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I hope you all enjoy!

One-shot summary: A far-future Dan Phantom going back in time to help Valerie means more than either could have imagined.


Deliverance

Shot 31: Tis the Season to be Forgiven (Part 2)


A few days after Christmas, Valerie searched out Clockwork. She paced in her room, eyes lit with an odd fire of curiosity and anger. Then she looked up at the ceiling and challenged, "If you're actually the Master of Time and watching me, then I know you can see me right now. Get your ectoplasmic ass in here so I can talk to you."

For a time, there was nothing.

Valerie's face screwed up. "Dammit, I know you heard me, and I know you're for real. Show yourself now."

Suddenly, the air before her began to vibrate, then shimmer. A powerful being cloaked in purple blasted into sight, and the tip of a heavy scepter tapped against the floor as his form solidified, walking toward her.

Valerie stepped back, a bit surprised. Even the air seemed to carry the heavy weight of this being's energy. It was a man with blue skin and red eyes—and an odd, black scar down the side of his face. He looked somewhat young and excessively powerful. "I will overlook your condescending tone," he said, "Valerie Gray. But yes, I am listening."

The sound of her name from his mouth—his voice was a deep gravel, like thunder—Valerie shook out of her daze. She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "And you must be Clockwork. Who the hell do you think you are to voodoo me at will?" she snarled. "Next time I find a time medallion around my neck and don't know how I got somewhere, I'm coming after you. Ya got that?"

Clockwork tilted his head, as if he were watching an ant squirm under sunlight. "Your tantrums will not guarantee you control. If I left everything to you, you would have killed yourself."

She sneered at him, "Yeah? Well…" She sputtered for a time. "It's not right to just spirit people away without asking them first. And I've heard some pretty bad things about you."

He raised a dark brow, almost amused. "Have you now?"

"Yeah." Valerie paced around him. Everything about this being seemed to emanate power, which made her skittish and worried. "I heard you could have stopped Dan Phantom from killing most of us ten years ago, and you didn't. I thought you were just some messed up legend, but if you're standing here and you're really the Master of Time, then that makes you look pretty bad right now."

"Does it?" he asked mildly, turning around to eye the human.

"Yeah, it does." Valerie stood before him and crossed her arms. "So what is this whole thing about a future Phantom healing me, then? Some new way of manipulating me and him to get your kicks in?"

Clockwork watched her curiously. Phantom was right—this woman was incredibly taciturn, her presence impossible to ignore. And her audacity! No one had ever insulted him so to his face except for Phantom. "I suppose I am manipulating you," he agreed. "Although not for my own kicks, as you say, but for the greater good of our two worlds."

Her jaw set. "The greater good?" she echoed finally in disbelief. "You call letting seven billion human beings die the greater good? Letting me get hurt to stop the ghost you chose not to stop is part of the greater good?" Her fist tightened. "Letting that future Phantom go crazy in a Wasteland is part of the greater good?"

"I understand your concern," he said slowly, "but I do not expect you to understand my reality or the circumstances that have resulted in these…trying times."

"Try me," she demanded.

The all-powerful ghost suddenly shifted into an old man, his face darkening with wrinkles, his red eyes growing a bit clouded. Valerie's eyes widened, and she stepped back again, in awe of how the being's once-strong body had shrunk into bony angles beneath his purple cloak.

He asked her, voice now old and tired, "Are you not satisfied with what has been given to you recently? Your hated enemy now suffers in chains and will serve you upon your every call. You have been told the future so that you could overcome challenges. You will be praised as a hero for millennia to come."

Valerie swallowed hard at that, her face slowly tinging with an odd blush. "Dammit, you're diverting. You're trying to make me forget that this is all just a band-aid for everything you failed to do before." She stood tall, ready to activate her battle suit if need be. "I think you are evil. Playing with people's lives like this. Promising me fame and a…a slave in exchange for what? Forgetting all the other seven billion lives you could have saved?"

The woman then thought back to the brokenness of the future Dan Phantom, who was bowed beneath chains for centuries—a sleek CW branded into his skin. She felt uneasy at the thought of him and of his willingness to serve her.

The Master of Time gave her a pitied look. "Phantom is not my slave. He begged me for annihilation, and I gave him an alternate path through which to atone for his sins. He has chosen, willingly, to serve you. As for your fame—that is only the natural result of defeating Dan Phantom. I am not in control of people's minds or heart. I can only rearrange events."

"And the seven billion?" Valerie demanded. "If you were really so powerful and good, why can't you save everyone?" Her voice broke a little. "What about them, huh?"

Clockwork fell silent for a time, mulling over Valerie's words. "I am not a god," he said. "There are some events out of my control that require me to make…decisions. As a military commander, you must know what this is like. Sacrificing the few to save the many."

"Seven billion is a few to you?" she deadpanned, her teal eyes narrowing.

Clockwork nodded. "In the grand scale of time, yes." He leaned his head against his staff, suddenly looking even older and more tired. "But I will not burden you with my job. All I need you to do is continue protecting your people and fighting Phantom."

The Red Huntress, still a bit skittish and suspicious, pressed her full lips tightly together. It seemed that this Clockwork was either unwilling or unable to turn back time even farther to save others. She did not know what to think of that. "You're probably evil," she still said. "I don't know if I can trust a ghost like you."

He walked forward, his cloak waving in an invisible wind. "And you are probably evil as well," he murmured lightly. "All humans carry two natures, and I have had to work my plans around your own moral weaknesses. I have even worried that you might abuse the Phantom I have placed beneath you."

She scoffed at that, her pride rearing up in a sharp whip and her face twisting with discomfort. "I can't believe you'd even suggest I would. The guy's a freakin' basket case."

"He healed you of his own free will, and you did not even thank him or consider how much energy he drained to perform that action," Clockwork pointed out mildly.

"Uh, was I supposed to thank him?" she retorted. "I thought this was all atonement and shit for everything he did before."

"Every action splinters the time stream into new possibilities," Clockwork explained. "You could possibly build Phantom into a strong and capable friend who will help you guard the world in the future, or you could make him continue to feel excessive guilt until he requests annihilation again, which I would be obligated to give him." He winked at her. "Do not think our meeting today was by chance."

A strange chill goose-bumped Valerie's skin, with the odd thought that Clockwork had already anticipated this conversation and that he already knew her possible reactions to himself and the future Dan Phantom.

She sputtered at him for a second or two, struggling to keep up. "Well." She huffed. "Well, if you're so concerned, what do you want me to do, huh?"

"That is your choice," Clockwork told her seriously. "I cannot control your actions—I can only make suggestions."

"Like what?"

The old ghost shrugged. "Offer Phantom something to suggest you are…aware of his sufferings. A kind word. Anything."

Valerie narrowed her eyes for a second, slowly coming to understand this ghost. "So you want me to help you save Phantom," she accused slowly, "while he's also trying to help me stop his present-self?"

The ghost had the decency to smile in a grandfatherly way, a glint of mischief in his eye. "Something like that."

Valerie huffed. "It's not like he really deserves it."

"No," Clockwork agreed. "None of us deserve a second chance. But he has requested one, in his own way. I do not have the heart to deny him."

Valerie fell silent, feeling odd in Clockwork's presence. The crazy ghost seemed far too complex and far too human to be understandable. Despite having been the one to give Phantom his punishment, Clockwork still wanted to reverse Phantom's fate too? "You're weird," she said. "Really, really weird."

A merry, soft chuckle escaped his wrinkled lips. "Is that so bad?"

Valerie's face began to soften a bit, the edge of suspicion relaxing. There was something grandfatherly about Clockwork now that he had revealed his ultimate motives. To Clockwork's point, she knew the future Dan Phantom was a broken being in many ways, and that it was possible for her to feel pity for him. But Clockwork's suggestion of kind words was not quite her style—she was always brash with those. So she turned around, face determined. And from her bed, she pushed aside a few cardboard boxes full of presents and then found a slightly smaller package. She opened up the box and stared at its contents. "How about this?" she said. "I know it's gotta be cold in that Wasteland he's in. Even if he's a ghost."

Clockwork beheld the package, given freely by Valerie. "You would give him a blanket to cover himself?"

Her face tinged a bit red. "Hey, you said I could do anything. You sayin' this isn't good enough?"

The ghost's old face stretched into a kind smile. "No. This is perfect."

"Good." She fitted the box cover over the present again, then shoved it into Clockwork's hand. "You can give it to him from me."

His hand tightened on the package, and he asked her lightly, "Why do you not wish to give it to him yourself?"

Valerie turned around to hide her face, which began to grow red in an uncertain blush. "Because. It'd be awkward. I don't know…I don't wanna say 'thank you' to his face, and I'm pretty sure he won't want to say that to me either." She grew uneasy. "I don't even know how to call for him since the bastard didn't say how to do it."

Clockwork's lips twitched. "You called me easily enough."

"Yeah, cause you're the one watching and transporting." Valerie pointed her finger at him. "Phantom isn't."

Clockwork sighed patiently. "All you have to do is voice your request aloud. It will be heard. But since you have asked me to take this to Phantom, I shall do it as a token of my goodwill."

And then he was gone.

A new idea hit her, and she demanded softly to the ceiling, "And give it to him on Christmas Eve! You can do that, right?"


A few days later, the present-day Dan Phantom came to fight Valerie again. He seemed almost giddy with her now that he knew the weaknesses in her battle suit. Valerie attempted to hold her own, trying to remember the future Phantom and Clockwork's words. But her hope faltered once more as Phantom managed to tear away the armored paneling on her shoulder.

She winced when his steel fingers dug into her skin, and she gasped in pain when she felt him jerk her arm, dislocating it.

He laughed at her pain. "Now you look better!" he crowed, pulling away to watch her nearly stumble to the ground in pain. "A little less lively."

Valerie grimaced, tears burning her eyes at the agony in her arm, which hung uselessly. She stared at this strong and wicked Dan Phantom, whose red eyes were tracking her every movement with sick enjoyment. She was not going to cry. She was not going to give in.

She tried to hold onto the future-Dan's desperate gaze. You can save us both, he had said. You have the capacity to defeat me in your own time. But it was so hard in that moment to believe. Her hope faltered.

She instinctively activated an arm cannon with her good arm, raising it to shoot him. But Phantom dematerialized, and the next thing she knew, she was flying back—the world spinning—bam. She cried out, her back striking a rusted, metal beam.

All of her healing from the previous days seemed to unravel. And all she knew in that second was painpainpain

"Tch." Phantom crossed his arms, eying her. "What shall I do to you now? I spent the better half of this morning breaking the vertebrae in Pariah Dark's spine. You should have heard him scream." He chuckled, as if sharing an inside joke. "It was so pathetic."

She was pretty sure in that moment her back was already broken. A dazed look came over her, and she felt suddenly nauseated.

Phantom began to walk toward her, eyes alit with ideas. "What's the matter, Valerie dear? You looked exhausted."

With a grimace, she struggled to stare at him. "I h-hate you," she whispered.

He smiled. "Aww, are you tiring out already?" And then he leaned down to grab her.

The instant he did so, she clamped down on his wrist and activated her electric shock weaponry. The tips of her fingers pulsed with the shock, and it burned through his suit and into his blue skin. He hissed in sudden pain, letting her go.

It gave her just enough time to stand up. She felt wobbly, pain radiating down her back and useless arm. "M-maybe you can end Pariah Dark," she hissed, "but you w-won't end me."

He looked back at her, and his red eyes flashed hot with a mix of hatred and amusement. "Oh, really?" His injured arm began to repair itself before her eyes, his blue skin smoothing over and glove reknitting over his skin. "Shall I break your helmet again and bash your head against the rocks?"

Fear tore through her.

You can save us both, future-Dan had told her fervently. But it seemed so far away… It seemed even the power of her suit merely irritated Phantom instead of harming him.

"Try whatever y-you want," she challenged, "but you're not g-gonna win. I'm gonna s-stop you somehow." The pain in her body made her legs tremble. She knew she had to look pathetic.

And he laughed just as she expected him to. "Stop me?" he echoed. "I have already won."

In the blur of the moment, he was suddenly right in front of her, pulling on her dislocated shoulder. She cried out in pain as he hissed, "Your weapons are useless against me now. It is only your pain that entertains me now."

Tears watered in her eyes again, and she shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. Her tears began to slip down her face beneath her helmet.

He seemed almost high from the sight, his red eyes staring at her face in glee. "Yes, cry for me, Valerie. Cry."

Her fragile hope began to crack a little more. It was only out of instinct that she managed to activate a small projectile. Before he could move away, the sleek metal shot down, searing through his knee and into his foot, pinning him to the ground.

Phantom snarled, a noise of pain ripping between his lips. His bright, green blood began to seep from his wounds, and he released her fully, only to stumble in an attempt to pull away from the metal now lodged in his foot. Valerie collapsed without him to support her.

"You bitch," he hissed. The metal of the missile was coated with a substance that Phantom was slowly building tolerance to, but it still managed to slow him down. His eyes sparked a hot orange, and with shaking fingers, he pulled the sharp projectile from the top of his foot. "You'll pay for this soon enough."

And then he dematerialized and left her shuddering in the silence.


Valerie returned, struggling to keep herself upright on her sled. Maybe he hadn't broken her back, but something felt wrong—and her arm was beginning to swell. That worried her. Tears fell freely down her face now that she was alone, flying unsteadily through the Shield back into Amity Park.

"Kwan," she cried out, breath hitching in pain as she tried to speak through her comm. "I need medical, stat."

Instantly, the young doctor's smooth and calm voice crackled in her ear. "You got it. Do you need us to pick you up on the edge of the Shield?"

"No, but I'm gonna need a lot of help," she shuddered, wincing as she lightly touched her dislocated arm. "I can still fly to infirmary."

"I'll be waiting for you," Kwan promised.

Her voice broke. "And when are my panel reinforcements gonna make it, huh? He tore through the patchwork on this suit like it was nothing."

Kwan sighed in her ear. "Maybe a few more days? You're just gonna have to hold on. Maybe he won't attack for a bit after this."

Valerie snorted, then winced in regret. "Yeah, right." She swooped her jet sled down, aiming for the large windows that opened to Kwan's infirmary. Sixty seconds. Thirty seconds.

Upon reading her incoming digital signature, the windows slid apart, allowing her direct entrance. She flew in, hobbling on the sled. Kwan was waiting for her, as promised, wearing his white coat and a worried expression.

"Fix me," she begged as she stepped off her sled, suddenly wishing she could just collapse. She retracted her battle suit with a wince, revealing her military pants and blank tank top beneath. Her whole shoulder was purple and swelling fast.

Kwan's warm hands gently guided her to the examination table. He hummed as he always did while he inspected her injuries, and then he looked up, and he started in surprise. "...Your face!"

Valerie turned irritated, watery eyes to him. "What?"

"Uh, what I mean is, you don't have a bruise on your face from the other day." He marveled at her. He had not been so physically close with her over the last few days, and she had spurned his calls to check in on her. "You should have had that for at least a week."

She closed her eyes. "I'll explain later," she moaned.

"But...?"

"Just put my damn arm back in."

Kwan gave her a curious look, then carefully placed his hands on her. "Well, alright. You ready?" And then without further warning, he jammed her shoulders up. Pop! She gasped, a noise of pain escaping her. She nearly collapsed against him entirely, her teal eyes in a daze.

"Ngh," she cried, tears slipping down her face. "God damn—!"

"—Worst part's over, you did good," Kwan comforted her, looking over Valerie's shoulder again. Her joint would be heavily swollen for some time. The woman was sobbing now, struggling to control her breath. "We need to get ice on this, and then get you on an anti-inflammatory."

She managed a terse nod, pulling away as she shuddered an inhale. Right. Anti-inflammatories—which she was becoming immune to anyway.

"Do you hurt anywhere else?"

For a time, she said nothing, still trying to breathe evenly. Then she whispered, "My b-back."

Kwan nodded and moved to the other side of the examination table. Then he gently raised up the back of her tank up and nearly winced himself when he saw the deep bruise streaking in a line across her back. "Well, it doesn't look like anything's broken." With great care, he ghosted his fingertips across the bruise. "Your musculoskeletal system sure took a beating, though. You're gonna be sore for a while."

She exhaled hard. "Tell me s-something I don't know," she retorted, voice full of tears.

Kwan was just about to pull her shirt back down, and then he realized with a start that the bruise was the only active injury on her back. The other day, she'd had a few other bruises—like a footprint—across her mid-back. He blinked. First the bruise on her face, and now this? "Actually, all of your injuries from the other day. They're…gone?"

She paled a bit and fell silent, knowing that this was Kwan—her first high school love, her first heartbreak, her now-doctor—from whom she could not hide a secret. He was savvy enough of a doctor to know that bruises did not heal so quickly. "The g-ghost Clockwork," she admitted roughly. "Know anything about him?"

Kwan lowered her shirt, staring at her in puzzlement for a second before turning around to find her a sling and several ice packs. "As much as anyone else," he said helplessly. "What does that have to do with your missing bruises?"

Valerie said hesitantly, "Clockwork wants Phantom s-stopped, so he g-gave me access to a…healing energy."

The doctor nearly dropped the sling. "Excuse me, what? You made a deal with a ghost?" He lowered his voice into an incredulous whisper, "Like Clockwork?"

"It was a gift," she defended herself. "All h-he asked is that I s-stop Phantom." Before Kwan could say anything more, she begged, "Don't t-tell anyone."

Kwan grew hesitant, eyeing her with muted concern. "Well…there is patient confidentiality." He walked over to her side and began to gently fit her arm into a sling. "And I know we have our alliance with some ghosts. But this Clockwork guy doesn't sound like a ghost to get involved with…"

She winced as her shoulder moved slightly, using her free and uninjured arm to wipe away the tears on her face. "I know, it's a risk."

The doctor watched his friend wince and felt pity for her as he adjusted the straps of the sling. "And…how exactly does a ghost with time powers have healing powers, anyway?"

Something in Valerie's face began to tinge red a bit, as if she were embarrassed. "I told you. He's g-got access to a healing energy."

Kwan grew more hesitant, knowing that Amity Park's ability to stand rested on Valerie's shoulders, which were strong but still obviously breakable. "What's the catch here? You're looking at about five weeks of downtime on that shoulder, and I know you're getting a tolerance to our pain meds. Was it a one-time thing? Would he heal you again?"

She whispered, her teal eyes sliding to the floor. "It was an open-ended offer. I think I'll t-take him up on it again tonight."

"And the only catch is you have to defeat Phantom?"

"…Yep."

"And what if you don't? What happens then? What if Clockwork gets tired of you?"

Valerie tiredly reached for Kwan's hand and wrapped her dark fingers around his large, pale palm. "Clockwork s-sees the future." She squeezed his hand lightly in comfort. "He already kn-knew I wouldn't win. Tonight."

Kwan swallowed hard and gripped her hand right back, cradling her calloused fingers. They'd always had a unique friendship after Phantom's rising, with several words unspoken between them. "I worry about you a lot."

"I know," Valerie whispered.


She trudged to her room, speaking little to anyone beyond grabbing a bag of food from the cafeteria. She was hardly hungry, but she knew once she collapsed on her bed, she wouldn't want to leave. And then there was the matter of calling upon that future Dan Phantom to heal her injuries. Nervousness ticked through her pain for a second, her spine chilling.

What was this? Anxiety? Anticipation? The fear of looking into his eyes again and seeing nothing but pain?

Her room was dark when she entered it, and so she turned on the overhead light. Everything was just as she left it—the bed undone with sheets twisted everywhere, her pajamas in a pile on the floor. She sat down on her own bed, feeling sore. Then she said tiredly to the air, "I don't know how this works. Are you listening now? Do I just say your name?" Her breath hitched when she touched her arm in the sling. "Do I have to go to the future first, or do you come here?"

Instantly, the air began to waver.

The Dan Phantom of the future appeared before her, link by link, his form slowly solidifying into Valerie's time. He looked worn and oddly frail, as if made of glass. The heavy blanket curled around his form made him look all the smaller and his chains all the greater. "Valerie," he breathed. His blood-red eyes searched her form, taking in the dirty black tank top and her arm in a sling, and the way her face was tight with pain. "…You sought a human doctor?"

"Can you reset a dislocated shoulder?" she challenged. "No offense, but this arm was swelling big time. What did you want me to do, call for you in the middle of Amity Park? Everyone would think I'm crazy."

He hobbled forward, reaching out to her. Clink. Clank. "I see." She noticed that the fingers on his one hand were heavily scarred, as if he had once fought against his chains. "Are you in pain now?"

"What do you think?" she retorted, breath hitching. "You only just tried to tear my arm off." Suddenly, her mind seared with the image of the present-Phantom's psychotic eyes and twisted smile as he dug his fingers in hard. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hide the wave of fear and tears that threatened her. "Among other things."

Dan hesitated, slowly retracting his hand. "I do not remember our every fight," he admitted, his baritone voice edged with pain. "But I know I was cruel."

"Cruel?" she whispered. "That doesn't cut it." She wiped her tears away with her good hand, giving him a miserable, haunted look. "There ain't a word in the dictionary for what's wrong with you. At least, in this time."

Hell, Valerie thought. Nothing like complaining to your enemy about your enemy.

Dan's hands fisted into the warm blanket, as if he were suddenly uncomfortable or uncertain. The blanket was a solid reminder that Valerie had thought of him kindly once. "Take satisfaction in the reality that I am here now to serve you," he said hesitantly. "And that I do not gain enjoyment from your pain anymore."

"Then take it away," she whispered.

The ghost of the future tilted his head. "Do I have your permission to touch you?"

She managed a nod, even though it pained her.

Clink. The chains and ash boxes trailed after him like an unholy cloak, fluttering the blanket's edges around his legs. Clank. He reached out a hand to her, his chains brushing against the edge of her bed. "It will feel as it did before," he told her. His fingertips gently touched her swollen shoulder, which pulsed hot with injury.

His cool hands were a welcome ice, and she closed her tired eyes. "I'm okay with that," she said.

Dan's lips twitched. Then gently, he activated his healing abilities. His present-self had undone all of his previous healing of her body. He could feel the rips in her muscles and ligaments—a sharp request for relief down her spine…

It took longer than before to heal her more extensive injuries. Valerie began to relax against him more, all of her tension leaving her. But as a moment passed with his glowing hand clasped around her shoulder, his red eyes began to dim further as his power left him, something in his face becoming more gaunt, as if he were malnourished. Eventually, he had to stop for fear that he would collapse.

Dan pulled away a shaky hand.

Valerie's eyes were half-lidded as she leaned into him, her head resting against his strong torso. She was too tired to hold herself upright, exhausted from the fight and from fighting the pain. "Feels good," she mumbled into the loose material of his shirt, as if half-asleep. She was completely relaxed, without pain or cares.

He stiffened in surprise, his blood-red eyes widening a fraction. "Um." He swallowed hard, gently wrapping an arm around her to keep her from falling over. "Valerie, if this has affected you so, perhaps you should lie down."

But her eyes were fully closed now, her breath evening out in great peace.

Dan's face began to tinge green in a blush. Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, was falling asleep on him. Had his increased power been too much for her body to handle? Had he accidentally hurt her in some other way? He stood there awkwardly in his chains, mind racing.

Surely, Clockwork was laughing somewhere, or perhaps he would appear soon to berate him for using power without understanding its full effect on himself or others. Dan knew that it was not right for him to touch a vulnerable Valerie so, his arm protectively swept across her shoulders, his chains spilling down her side and back.

"Valerie," he tried again, "you are falling asleep on me."

She gave a noncommittal noise, as if bordering between consciousness and sleep.

His voice strained. "This is not—I shouldn't—" And then he realized with full cognition that he was in her bedroom, his chains resting against her bed. A small panic fluttered in his stomach. Clockwork was going to disapprove. Clockwork was going to question his intentions, believing that Dan would be more likely to kill Valerie or worse while she was down.

The thought of her dying made him instinctively cradle her closer, his scarred fingers weaving against her messy curls. "I would not hurt you," he whispered aloud. His red eyes flickered to the bed, and he began to think that he could lean her down without jarring her. "But perhaps you should lie down?"

"…Nnh," her voice mumbled against his shirt, too tired to care about anything.

Desperately attempting not to clink his chains or trip over them, he tightened his grip upon her shoulder and leaned sideways. Valerie's body leaned with his, her dark hair spilling over his arm and chains. He swept his arm out from under her the instant her body met the bed.

With great exertion, he managed to untangle himself out of his chains enough to lean down and gently lift her legs onto the bed. Then he noticed the way her skin was goose-bumped (likely because of touching him), and so he unwound his brown blanket from his body, straining against his chains to lay it across her.

He stood up with satisfaction. And for a second, he was fine. Then an odd feeling grew within him, and he became dizzy again. I used too much energy? he thought, placing a hand over his power core. Perhaps, with his restrictive chains, he had. His body was beginning to shut down in the void—and his eyes widened in panic, then unfocused. Oh no. He opened his mouth to call for Clockwork, but only a shaky exhale came out. He felt himself begin to collapse to the floor, and he was blacked out before his shoulder hit, all of his chains and ash boxes twisted around his body.


Dan awoke to the feeling of hands fluttering around his face. "—antom?" came in a worried, raspy voice. Female. "Hey, come on."

Blearily, he opened his eyes to the sight of a terrified Valerie Gray staring down at him. "This isn't funny," she said, patting his face. "Come on. Answer me."

He blinked, entirely confused as to why a Valerie Gray of any kind would be patting his face to wake him up. And then he realized that he was on the floor of her bedroom, his body covered again with the warm, brown blanket, his chains humming in a pleasant sort of acceptance that he had yet again been brought down.

"Ngh," he said, face twisting in confusion. Valerie's own expression began to relax with relief. Her warm hands slipped from his gaunt face.

"You okay?" she asked him hesitantly. Her memories were fuzzy from the night before, her last thoughts having to do with how comfortable this future Dan Phantom's body was to lean against. Her face was tinged a bit red. "I think I fell asleep on you, and then…I don't know what happened."

He instinctively tried to move one of his arms, only to remember his heavy shackles. He groaned, his red eyes squinting a bit at the sharp sunlight that was spilling in over Valerie's shoulder. "Too much," he moaned.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Too much what?"

Dan felt as if he had been run over by a truck. "Power," he clarified. With a wince, he began to force himself to sit up. Clinkclinkclink—"I gave too much…"

Valerie's strong, healed arms wrapped around his, and she helped him up, then began to pull off some of the chains from his body, trying to untangle him from himself. Perhaps it was her way of thanking him. Her eyes were dark with curiosity. "Is that why I fell asleep?"

"I think," he nodded tiredly, leaning on her. Embarrassment swept through him, and he was suddenly unable to even look at her. How pathetic was he. Saying he could heal her when in fact he had limits. "Your injuries…they were more structural and complex. It took more."

The woman seemed to accept that, although something tightened her face. "Yeah? Well, you look like shit now," she told him, almost fretting. "Is this what's going to happen whenever I'm really injured? You're gonna collapse from healing me?"

Dan looked down at his hands, which were as pale as the rest of him and just as shaky. "My chains restrict my powers," he admitted slowly, "so I am deserving of this…side effect."

Her face tightened further. "And what will happen to you if I need you for something even more serious?"

"It is of no consequence. I will do anything to ensure your victory over my past self," he told her, voice rough. With a wince, he began to stand, grabbing onto the wall. His chains clanked hard against each other, a few ash boxes turning on their sides. He nearly stumbled. "I am your servant to command at all costs."

Valerie beheld the brokenness in his body and the aged look about him, and suddenly she felt ill. This was what Clockwork had been talking about. Dan was practically suicidal in his desire to atone.

She stood up as well, grabbing the brown blanket from the floor with uncertain hands. "Look. I'm not so good with words, but we can figure out ways to get around your restrictions. And you can cut the servant talk. That's…weird." She gently pushed the blanket into his scarred hands. "I don't want a slave, okay?"

He blinked at her, as if in disbelief that she would show such mercy toward him. "I have been given to you as one," he whispered, voice exhausted.

She backed away, biting her lip. "I know." Clockwork wanted her to enlist him as a friend, but that word seemed too sacred still. This was still her enemy, who had killed her in his future. "But it's just…not right."

Dan tightened his grip on the blanket, his knuckles almost bleeding white. He seemed almost anxious, and for a time, he said nothing. Then he was gone, his body quickly fading out of the time stream before Valerie could say another word.


Soon enough, Dan knelt into the snow 500 years in the future, his long, white hair flinging out over his face, his chains stretching out on the snow. The winds were sharp against him as he curled in on himself, burrowing into the brown blanket that caught the small peeks of sunlight above. He was exhausted, his power core aching.

But Valerie had rebuffed his willingness to serve her without question. Something about that—he could not stop thinking of it—

He hid his face in the blanket, feeling warm in strange ways. She did not want a slave, even though she deserved for him to be one. He resituated himself in the snow and ice bank, right next to where he had buried Valerie's box of ashes. Then he fell asleep again, not even noticing that a small chain disappeared from his arm.


Hours later, Clockwork woke him up, curiously poking at him with his scepter.

Dan's eye opened in half-hopes that it was Valerie, then his eye sharpened and narrowed. "You?" he moaned. With great difficulty, he managed to pull the blanket over his head. "Go away."

The old ghost said wryly, "...Good morning to you too."

"Fuck off," came a tired, muffled snap.

Clockwork's face twitched in disapproval. It seemed the Dan Phantom of the future held too many grudges against him to be as docile as he was with Valerie. Clockwork raised his scepter again and this time jabbed a bit harder at Dan's ribs. "Are you irritable simply due to your energy transfer to Valerie Gray?"

The younger ghost twitched beneath his blanket. "I'd be happier if you weren't here," he muttered.

The Master of Time tilted his head and sighed. "I did think to warn you about the amount of energy it takes to heal various human injuries. But the alternative was far more entertaining."

Dan groaned pathetically but said nothing more, knowing that Clockwork was simply reminding him of yet another past mistake—enjoying others' pain.

Clockwork stared at the brown lump of a man on the snowy ground, unimpressed. Then he leaned down, and with a quick jerk, pulled the blanket off of the younger ghost's face. "I wish to speak with you."

Dan nearly hissed, his red eyes glowing hot. He swiped out at Clockwork with sudden strength, grabbing onto the blanket's edge and pulling it back over himself. "Dammit, don't you dare," he said, voice desperate. The blanket was his. His. Not Clockwork's.

"Tell me," he said, "if healing Valerie from massive injuries were to mean the end of your existence, would you still heal her?"

"Why do you ask?" Dan snarled, shakily forcing himself to sit up, still holding the blanket around him. "Afraid to lose your favorite toy?"

Clockwork asked, "Is that what you think you are?"

An angry fire lit against Clockwork in Dan's heart. His shaking hand grabbed onto the blanket tightly as he struggled to stand. "Just…leave me alone," he said roughly. "Have you not already won against me?"

"I ask again. Would you heal Valerie if it meant the end of your existence?"

Dan was still trying to crawl out of his chains' tangled mess, frustrated that it seemed every movement caused another chain to pull short on him and further restrict his movements. His face twisted, and his voice broke. "I'd do anything to escape this."

"And why is that?" Clockwork asked curiously.

The younger ghost narrowed his eyes. "Are you deaf? I requested annihilation centuries ago," he snarled. "And yet you have seen fit to keep me aware. Yes, I would heal her. I'd give everything to her if it meant reversing this and ending my misery."

"You did not answer my question." The Master of Time leaned on his scepter tiredly. "Why do you wish to reverse this and end your misery?"

Dan laughed a short, bitter bark, finally managing to stand on shaky legs. "What else is there for me?" he demanded. "This world is desolate. These chains are permanent. I cannot escape from my past mistakes, and you—oh Master of time—you dig every last barb in." He turned away, attempting to trudge into the Wasteland. "Now leave me to suffer in silence until I fade away once Valerie fixes the timeline."

"Would you have still killed all those people, knowing what you do now?"

The younger ghost paused, his eyes squeezing shut. "Dammit, what does it matter," he muttered brokenly. "They are all dead, and nothing I say will bring them back."

"Would you resurrect them if you could?"

Dan turned around, his eyes sparking hot with irritation. "Leave me alone," he demanded. But as he hobbled forward, every line in his body shrunk closer, bowing under the weight of Clockwork's question. He longed to reverse his entire afterlife. "It is too late for me."

The old ghost then raised his scepter and said, "No, I believe this is simply the fullness of time saying that you are ready. I have something I need you to see."


The next thing Dan knew, he was standing in a dark room with no light, his blanket still tightly clutched around him. He blinked, then became fearful. "What is this?" he breathed, narrowing his eyes. He slid his eyes to Clockwork. "Where have you taken me?"

"A place I promised to the council I would not reveal to you," the ghost said, a merry glint in his eye.

Dan grew more suspicious. "And why is that? Is there something here that can end me?"

Clockwork tilted his head. "As a matter of fact, yes." He raised his hand, and suddenly the room exploded into light.

Dan's face twisted as he shielded his eyes, tired of being jerked around. Clank—clank— The smallest spark of hope entered him at the thought of an end to his existence. But when his eyes adjusted, he paused in confusion. The room seemed to be never-ending, its walls shifting in optical illusions. Large, pod-like structures stood in rows, all piled atop each other. "What…?"

Clockwork waved his hand, and suddenly all of the windows on the pods pulled back. And there inside were perfectly preserved humans, their physical stats and identification showing up in green text along the edge. "Behold," he said. "Amity Park."

Dan blinked, and his head tilted in utter confusion. "…Amity Park?" He feebly struggled against his chains to trudge forward, his hand reaching out. He touched one of the nearest pods. The window showed a small girl, her dark hair wiry like Valerie's. "Humans."

"Yes," Clockwork said with dry amusement. "Humans. Living ones, even."

Dan fell silent, and something bloomed in his chest. "They are alive?" he asked incredulously, voice hitched with something unnatural to him. He ran his shaky fingers down one pod, his chains clanging softly. "How? I watched them die."

"You razed Amity Park to the ground so quickly, it was easy enough to snatch them away from your explosions."

Dan hardly heard Clockwork, he was so focused on the pods themselves—the fact that living beings were preserved. "How many live?" he whispered.

Clockwork smiled. "Over 10,000. It was the council's contingency plan to save a few so that a race would not be permanently extinguished. I saved the whole city."

And a soft, shaky exhale broke from Dan's lips. "You bastard," he accused suddenly. "You absolute bastard." For the first time in 500 years—for the first time since he had split himself—he began to cry. His face twisted up, and his red eyes squeezed shut. His breath came in shudders. "They are not dead?" He'd carried these people in every painstaking step he'd taken for 500 years, moaning his decision to annihilate them.

"No," Clockwork confirmed again, almost amused. "They are not dead."

The younger ghost hid his face in his hands as silent tears slipped between his fingers. He could not stop them suddenly. His breath came in shaky gasps as he knelt before his tormentor and the sleeping city of Amity Park. It was a release of regret—a catharsis.

He hadn't killed them all. They weren't all dead. That meant the Wastelands—his future—was a construction. He inhaled shakily, his dark heart cracking hard.

Without anything to hold him up, he sank to the floor. "They are not dead," he whispered, trying to wipe away his tears. "Valerie's legacy is not dead."

The little girl in the pod before him—she had Valerie's hair. A heartbeat. A life. She was not ash in a metal box he bore across his back. Something about that was so suddenly beautiful and strange to him, he did not even know what to do with it.

"All these years," he breathed, "thinking that I would not speak to or see anyone again…"

The Master of Time watched him, his red eyes deep with an odd understanding. And then, with an aged groan, he sat on the floor beside Dan, laying his scepter across his lap.

"I know think me evil for all that I do to you," he said slowly, his deep voice calm and gravelly with the rumble of a grandfather's tongue. "But I hid sensitive information from the council and from you in hopes that I could save the future."

Dan tentatively pulled his face away from his hands, and his watery eyes slid to Clockwork. His face was flushed with emotion and tears. "What?" he demanded simply.

Clockwork looked away, growing hesitant. "Had I not allowed you to die and kill, an even worse tragedy would have occurred. In the timeline where you did not become evil, both the Ghost Zone and the Human World were at risk of total destruction. This path where you become evil was the path that salvaged the most life." He was worn with an odd agony. "It is…difficult to choose the best path sometimes, as certain events are not in my realm of control. I had to choose between allowing seven billion humans to die in this world with a hope for repopulation, or twelve billion humans to die in the other time with no hope for repopulation. I must exist forever with my choices."

Dan sat quietly. The tear tracks still shined on his gaunt face where he had missed them. "You captured me and turned me into this," he accused. "What was so wrong in the other timeline that you could not stop?"

Clockwork hummed. "There are anti-ecto substances you wouldn't know about in this timeline. It is called ectoranium. At the age of fourteen, you would have stopped an asteroid of it from decimating the earth. But increasing tensions between ghosts and humans would result in a ghost massacre against our world. Within 600 years, a larger asteroid would appear in the way of Earth—but at that time, there would not be enough ghosts left to power a defense. All sentient existence between the two worlds would have been snuffed out." Clockwork gave a wry, pained smile. "My ability to see beyond that point is black, which suggests that I would no longer exist either."

Then, the old ghost shrugged, "Luckily, I can see far beyond what others can, and so here we are." He waved his hand to the pods. "This was the path that, for all of its pain, carried the greatest hope." His red eyes tilted sideways. "And you have forced me to do fairly complex acrobatics to get you back in a coherent mind."

Dan's chains bled away, dissipating into smoke that wisped back to Clockwork's scepter. The young ghost nearly collapsed backward without the weight, his worn body unbalanced. He caught himself, his free wrist planting on the ground. The bare air stung the half-healed cuts and blisters that had collected from the shackles on his body.

He pressed his lips together tightly, eyes watering until his entire vision blurred. There was no weight. His heart was light, his body was light. A shaky exhale ran through him as he pulled his hands closer for inspection. For the first time in 500 years, his body lifted from the ground, levitating freely.

His long, straggly white hair began to flicker. He touched his hair, fingers shaking. "You have freed me?" he whispered.

Clockwork raised a brow. "You freed yourself."

Dan felt his power in full force now, his abilities pulsing deep. Relief relaxed his tear-streaked face. "You son of a bitch," he whispered, face twitching with a sob. He touched one of his wrists. "You bastard. Putting me through this for your own agenda."

"You needed the fullness of time to regret your actions," Clockwork said wryly. "Had you shown such remorse and joy at the sight of humanity on the second day of your sentencing, your chains would have been released instantly."

A blush of shame tinted Dan's cheeks, and he turned away, holding for security onto the blanket Valerie had given him. He felt unsteady. He needed something solid and real to prove that everything else was real.

"But we still have much work to do to reset the past," Clockwork said, "so that these people might yet live as they were meant to, with a far greater appreciation of what can be done when humans and ghosts unite." He paused. "And I believe it is time for you to assist Valerie Gray once again."

Dan blinked. "How much time has passed?"

Clockwork shrugged. "We are outside of time here. In the human world, days."


Valerie was crawling along the cold ground, leaving a trail of blood behind her. "Ngh," she cried, half in confusion from her injuries. Her jet sled was just out of reach, shattered on the rocks. She knew she was not going to make it back on her own power and would likely have to call for a reinforcement team to pick her up. But that required pushing her comm button. And this time, Phantom had broken her hands, now curious of how she was managing to heal so quickly. Her eyes were watery with tears as she stared down at her mottled fingers before her. Pain radiated up her arm every time she moved.

She collapsed fully, her body sinking into the wet mud. "H-help," she pleaded weakly. Even though she was outside of Amity Park and had not called for human reinforcement, she figured that her deal with the future Dan Phantom would perhaps at least help her to get home. "Please." Tears streaked down her face as she grew more dizzy. "H-home."

Every word burned her throat. She did not know if she would have the energy to call for him in any coherent way. So far, she did not hear the typical clink clank of his hobbled walk. Perhaps he was too far. Perhaps Clockwork had not heard to even transfer him.

"H-help," she mouthed the word desperately, losing hope. The pain of her body was making her vision pixelate to black. The ground was feeling more comfortable—the mud like a bed—She leaned her head down, her helmet sinking into the mud.

And then she saw him. A flash of black, a bare, blue foot, scratches and scars on his strong ankle. "Valerie," she heard him breathe in panic—his voice so like the other Phantom's, but far more rich with expression. He kneeled and gently turned her over by her shoulders.

She stared at him, eyes dilated. She blinked at him, as if not quite recognizing him. "N-no chains?" she rasped, fully confused.

The Dan Phantom of the future stared down at her, his gaunt face streaked with what appeared to be drying tear tracks. "I shall explain later," he told her, scanning her for all of her injuries. He saw that her hands were broken, each finger angled strangely and swelling. Her battle suit had been shredded at the stomach, welling red beneath the mud she'd dragged herself in. He blinked in horror, realizing that this had been happening to Valerie while he'd been distracted. "Let me take you out of here."

Her breath hitched, and Dan noticed that her breath was shallow, as if her ribs were bruised. "Okay," she whispered shakily.

Dan carefully undid her helmet, the cold air of the winter blasting against her sweating face as he pulled it off of her. She closed her eyes in a pained relief, gasping for air. Then he gathered her up in his arms, lifting her beneath her back and knees. Her limbs were shaking in pain, her head limp against the crook of his neck.

Turning them invisible and intangible, he flew out of the valley, holding tight to Valerie's body. A deep fear was in him. He did not remember doing this to her in his time. Was this a timeline fluctuation based off his previous interactions with her? A consequence Clockwork had not told him about healing her now? Or were these injuries just something he had forgotten because, at the time, it had not mattered?

Valerie was bordering on unconsciousness. Considering the dilated look in her eyes, he began to worry. "Do not fall asleep," he demanded fearfully. "Valerie, I need you to stay awake."

"Hurts," she whispered, voice weak.

He was searching desperately for an area to set her down that would be better than mud and away from where the present-Phantom had defeated her—in case he came back out of curiosity. There. His red eyes honed in on a place, hidden away in a cocoon of a half-collapsed warehouse. The metal sheeting would provide just enough cover from the elements.

He swooped in, the light of his body illuminating the dilapidated wall. It appeared moss and various grasses had invaded its once-concrete floor, but it did not look comfortable. And so he carefully repositioned her in his arms, twisting about and crossing his legs so that she would rest on his lap.

Valerie groaned at being jarred. By that point, he had lowered them against the concrete, her legs limply hanging off his knee with one sliding down to the floor. He carefully lifted one of her broken, swollen hands with his. "I am going to heal you," he told her quickly. "Hold on."

And then he shot his energy into her through her hands, the immense pull of her broken bones drinking it all up. Her teal eyes widened and re-dilated, and her lips opened in a gasp. All of her bones and ligaments in her fingers popped tightly back into place, his green light resewing them together and smoothing out the bruises.

The deep laceration across her stomach had bled against his own clothes, but now the green power stitched up the muscle and skin. As he healed her, she curled her fingers around his, otherwise growing limp in his lap. She tiredly listened to the rev of his power core beneath her ear. "Your chains," she whispered, voice exhausted.

Dan narrowed his eyes distantly, struggling to focus between healing her and talking. "Clockwork," he said. But in that moment, it almost felt as if he were wearing them again. His heart was heavy with the memory of a dead Valerie—and the knowledge that he (some part of him) had done this to her even now.

"Gonna pass out?" she asked, growing more sleepy from the work he had done to heal her.

Dan almost seemed to freeze, uncertain of Valerie's reaction to him. "…I do not think I will with my restrictions gone, but you might."

Valerie moaned in complaint. She was growing more tired by the second. Dammit, she thought. "I don't…usually fall asleep…on people." She nuzzled her face against the soft cloth of his shirt, almost petulant.

His face softened. He moved to pull his hand from hers, having healed the last of her injuries. He almost waited for it all to end—for her to somehow transform into a box of ashes and the warehouse beams to turn into fallen trees from his time. For his freedom of movement to return to maddening insanity.

But it didn't.

"I do not usually heal things," he murmured, "so perhaps we are even."

Her tired lips twitched up. And as Valerie began grow limp in his arms, fully trusting this odd copy of Phantom, an odd thought came into her mind. Too bad we can't just put this one in the other Phantom's body.

Then, Valerie blinked, suddenly reawakening from the calm of healing.

Wait a minute.


"Or can we?" she asked him a few days later as he worked to heal bruises on her arm. She was fully comfortable in his presence now, his brown blanket a typical addition to be found in the corner of her room. Her voice quickened, her eyes growing more alert. "Once I defeat you—the present you—could Clockwork put you in your old body?"

The Dan Phantom of the future said hesitantly, "Clockwork said I must bear my chains until the time stream is altered."

"Well, maybe those weren't the chains he was talking about," Valerie said, reaching up to run her fingers over the permanent brand of CW in his muscled arm. "Think about it. I capture the old-you. We get Clockwork to put you in your old body before your time stream disappears." She stroked the raised scar. "Then the old-you would be gone, along with this body."

He stared at her, somewhat surprised at her. "Is that even possible?"

She gave him a dry look. "I opened Pandora's box once and saw a flying pig."

"…Good point," he muttered, pulling away from her. Her minor bruises were a welcome change from the last several days.

Valerie was energized from the healing instead of sleepy. "Think about it," she demanded. "I don't know how to defeat you yet—but this could be why you still saw yourself in the new future. Because we figure out a way to keep you here."

A strange chill ran through his spine, as he suddenly felt he was witnessing prophecy unfold through Valerie. The possibility that he might find freedom in Valerie's company—it was an attractive thought. "But…perhaps that was the version of me you redeem here. Now."

She stared at him hard. "You are the version I've redeemed. And we're here. Now."

"You are endangering yourself on my behalf," he argued. His voice strained. "Your plan could go horribly wrong. And I have requested annihilation for so many years—perhaps it would be best if I simply faded along with—"

"—No," she said, releasing him. She crossed her arms, something in her shoulders tight with a righteous justice. "You're not a bad guy anymore. I don't…" Her voice trailed off. "I don't want you to go away forever."

He blinked, staring at her hard.

She swallowed back emotion, then raised her chin. "I want you to stay here."

"…What?" The Dan of the future sputtered. "B-but I deserve to—"

She turned around and began to pace. "Too late!" she said, mind in a frenzy of thought. "You're staying. I want you to stay. Now I just have to figure out how to capture the old-you…and maybe I should talk to Clockwork about this face-to-face—the old bastard's probably listening in now anyway…"

He watched her for a time, jaw dropped. Surely, Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, was not concocting some way to keep him existent. Him—who had killed her. At least his present-self had only tried, which was a vast improvement.

"Why do you wish me to stay?" he asked curiously. "You must tolerate me only for my healing abilities—which you would no longer need upon defeating me."

The question made Valerie go silent, which was something of an odd thing by itself. He'd grown use to her constant, demanding antics and opinions and had merrily resigned himself to such.

Valerie softly challenged, eyes hard, "And do you only tolerate me cause I make you feel less guilty for killing a future-me?"

His face twisted at the snap, and in response, he grabbed some of the crackers from her bed stand and began helping himself to them. "I do not simply tolerate you," he said, biting down on a cracker and looking disgruntled. "You would not understand what nothing but silence and solitude for 500 years can do. I feel that I am dreaming when I speak with you."

"You wanna wake up?" she retorted, grabbing the sleeve to steal one for herself.

He blinked at that. "…No," he admitted.

"Well then," she said, crunching down on a cracker, eyebrow raised. Her voice was muffled. "Don't ruin the dream. I'm kinda liking this new you. If you disappeared forever, I'd have to wake up."

And as his eyes caught hers, both of them silent in vulnerability, he came to a strange realization.

More so than fading out in his long-desired oblivion, he actually wanted to stay. With her.


A/N: Okay, now we're done! I had a few reviewers ask questions or request that this storyline be continued. I hope this sequel helps to answer any remaining questions you might have. I kinda surprised myself with how this one turned out—it was supposed to be like, 5 pages, for one, with a lot less closure. This is probably the closest so far that Dan has achieved redemption in this whole collection. Only…31 uploads later…

Speaking of which, I heard that a story can get deleted for excessive length? Does anybody know what excessive length for a story is? Because I was totally planning on uploading to Deliverance until I ran this collection into the ground. And now I'm not sure if I can.

By the by, it appears that the next miniseries update from me will be Karma, followed by Aftermath. I might tackle a new/funny one-shots beforehand as an intermission to more miniseries updates….hmm….

Anyway, please review with your thoughts, comments, questions, critiques, or ideas! Thank you!