How many times had it been?
He fell through the portal, slumping to his knees and gasping the acrid-sweet taste of ectoplasm that slid through the world. Concrete dust had turned his black suit nearly white, pale hair soft with clinging powder. He could feel Clockwork's reserved gaze on the back of his neck, but did not turn.
"Again." The word felt painful in his abused throat. His effort had not been enough this time. (Had it ever?)
He needed to try-
"Again." He repeated, softer.
The portal shifted, and Danny stood up on aching bones, head lolling sideways as he took a moment to breathe. He swallowed, throat protesting with pain, and peeled open his eyes.
He rolled his shoulders, lacing his fingers and arching to send a series of crackles down his spine.
One more time.
Just one, that's all he needed. Just to prove it to Clockwork, or the council, or - himself, maybe. Their conclusion had to be a mistake. There HAD to be a way around it.
The portal danced sparks over his skin when he pushed through, the staticky barrier stretching and tearing around him, cut by the gear in his hand. Time, space, it didn't matter. He needed this.
The streets under his feet were as familiar as they had been the countless other times he walked down them, FentonWorks sign casting green reflections from the windows around it. Details sprang up at him, and context filled in information on the long list of variables spinning through his head. Which one was it, this time? What was the turning point? What was the key?
He stepped through the door without opening it, boots silent as he tread across the entranceway.
Ghost Shield was crossed off his mental list, along with Ghost proofed walls and Ghost alarm system . Nothing even reacted when he flared his energy, light casting shifting shadows across the living room from the palm of his hand. His ghost sense curled in the back of his throat, the unique cold reminding him of his own strangeness in this time. This world.
Danny closed his fingers around the ball of light, smothering it as he walked deeper into his house. Familiar pictures lined the walls, familiar inventions lay scattered across tables and work desks, tools and cooking utensils laying side by side with magazines and a family portrait that had yet to be framed.
He paused, stepping backward and looking back down at it.
Was that the key, this time?
His eyes traced Jazz's forced smile, and his parent's weary eyes. His own face stared sullen to the side, expression set in more of a grimace than a smile. The shadow of a bruise splotched purple on the corner of the other-his jaw.
A soft clatter pulled him from his musing, and he slipped into invisibility. Danny felt his eyes narrow as his own body climbed up from the basement. No, not himself, but… a different-him. Another timeline, another world. This was a could-have-been, who still had a bruise on the side of his jaw, and smudges of sleepless nights tattooed under his eyes and over sharp cheekbones. The other-danny leaned against the doorway of the basement, wearily casting his eyes over the kitchen and living room before pushing himself laboriously forward. Danny watched as the other-him considered the kitchen, thin hands on his hips.
He stood aside as the boy fumbled with the oven, before abandoning it and reaching into the cupboard to pull out a pan. To the fridge, casting pale light across the kitchen as he opened it. Satisfied that the other teen was just looking for a midnight snack, Danny turned back to invisibly examining the contents of the house.
What was the key?
The last sign that he had to notice in this world. The last domino that could be stopped. The card to hold steady to stop the rest from toppling over. Where was it?
Danny frowned at the other-him mixing eggs, gliding silently up through the ceiling to check on the house's other occupants.
His other-parents were asleep in bed, and Jazz-of-this-world still slept with her Einstein-bear. Bearbert. Danny swallowed, exhaling slowly and closing his eyes. There had to be time still, right? He still had a chance to avert… whatever was coming.
Was it the CAT again? A new ghost?
Danny tested the air with a soft inhale, letting the lines of energy cross over his tongue and through a place in his chest that wasn't quite his lungs. His core didn't react, and no wisp of blue hinted at another ghost being present. The cold deepened for a moment, but that chill was only a reflection of the other half-ghost, downstairs tending eggs.
His other's room didn't hold many other clues. Walls were still plastered with space paraphernalia, and the old diagram of the Apollo Shuttle still took up most of his ceiling. He let himself trace the familiar lines with his eyes, silently naming each part.
Danny paused. Blinked.
This was himself, right? Of course he wouldn't leave anything out in the open. Not the important things, anyway.
Under the bed yielded no answers, and the map of the ghost zone he had found meticulously crafted in a dozen other rooms just like this was conspicuously missing. The closet was normal- Wait.
Danny squinted at the piles of identical shirts, reaching down to pull a few up to examine. Yep. That was his white NASA shirt alright. One rip here. Another little bloodstain there. He pushed his fingers through one of the hole, wiggling them to test the shape of the tear.
Yeah, that was definitely a knife wound.
What was other-him getting up to?
A clatter of a pan caught his attention, bringing his attention back to the present. He had been given less and less time lately, to figure out the trigger. An hourglass losing sand with every flip. Was it in the basement, then? The ghost portal? Was it set to explode or something?
What would kill his family in this world?
Danny sank down through the floors, emerging into the darkened basement and frowning at the utter lack of otherworldly light that usually caused it to glow. Even in other worlds, that faint light had always been familiar.
He flitted down and gently closed the bottom basement door, green eyes casting faint light, his own muted aura making a tiny halo of visibility. Danny lit up his palm again, tossing the shining orb of ectoplasm up to float above his head. The shadows constantly shifted, but he could see what he needed to.
A half-finished portal lay strewn in pieces across the lab, cords and electronics piled in haphazard locations. He frowned, lifting his face and scenting the air again, not sure exactly what he was getting a whiff of. The lab always smelt faintly of ozone and machine oil, sometimes of gasoline when his dad got a bit adventurous with blending technologies.
Danny floated around the room, going down his list and checking things off, making notes in his head, trying to figure out the point that he could interfere and stop what was inevitable . Surely, nothing was truly inevitable. Surely, there was a way to avoid his future.
Surely, every world couldn't have the same fixed point in time.
He just needed to believe it.
He needed to prove it.
There was always some outside force, some driving factor that would result in tragedy.
The smell was growing stronger.
A prickling of anxiety slipped up his spine. It was gasoline, yes, but… also something else. The odors were strong - too strong. He examined the floor more closely, striding forward and stopping abruptly when he heard the soft 'plop' of his boot hitting liquid. Danny summoned his light, and frowned at the oily sheen swirling from its disruption. Maybe this was it? He should clean this up, before an accident-
Tired eyes.
Old bruises
Too-thin hands
Cheekbones that only showed that sharply when he had been exhausted, on the run, hunted .
The clatter of pans had gone silent, and Danny realized what the smell had been.
He lunged up toward the ceiling, mind tumbling with possibilities. Was it from school? Bullying? Was Vlad tormenting them with ghosts released from his own portal? There was no time, he couldn't-
Danny choked on the smell of gas, holding his breath as he reached the oven to turn off the unlit burners. He almost flew across the house to open a window, but before he could reach it, he saw himself sitting on the living room couch, lighter in his hands.
No.
"I know you're there, ghost." Danny jolted at the soft voice, the other's tired blue eyes never lifting from where they stared at the floor. He could sense- ? Then, something with ghosts. Pieces in his head rearranged, clicking and sliding like a waterfall of
"You don't have to do this." He murmured, flickering into visibility. The other Danny… looked utterly unsurprised to see him. One of the pieces wavered, pulling away from the picture he thought he had completed. Cold blue eyes hardened at him, and Danny tried to remember what he had told another-world's version of himself, when confronted with a doppelgangar. Before he could open his mouth, the other-Danny cut him off.
"You're too late. I've given up. I don't know if I'm the real original anymore, and frankly I don't care."
Danny felt his brows furrow in confusion, but anger and bitter determination spread across his mirror's face, showing in the clench of his jaw, narrowing of his lips, and the tight muscles of his neck.
"Tell Vlad I'm tired of playing his games." White teeth bared at him as the man's name was spat like a curse, and Danny took a small, startled step back. His gaze darted down to the lighter, calculating how fast he'd have to be to rip it out of the teen's hands before it could spark.
"Easy, easy, I just don't want anyone to get hurt." Danny lifted his hands, patting the air like he was trying to calm a spooked horse.
"Send another clone to take my place, I don't care. They know something's wrong with us - with me. " The boy's fingers tensed, and Danny felt himself tense in return. "But there won't be a place to take over, anymore."
He dove for the boy, pushing him back on the couch and smothering a cough as he accidentally breathed in some of the thick gas. Surely, that didn't all come from one oven. The other-Danny fought back, snarling against him and beating ineffective fists against his black-suited body. Smaller specters had hit harder.
"I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS! WE CAN'T, YOU UNDERSTAND THIS IS WRONG, WHY ARE YOU STILL HELPING HIM!?" Danny winced from the volume of the furious shriek in his ear, finally yanking away the lighter and flying up and backward out of reach.
Just as he moved to open the window, he heard the tcch-slide of a metal wheel. He turned, just as the boy's thumb slid on a second lighter, fierce blue eyes staring defiantly at him.
"Tell Vlad 'Fuck you'"
A spark flashed.
Fire exploded outward.
The whirl of confused puzzling spiked, still trying to figure out what exactly was going on in this world. What had driven him, this time, to…
Again.
He had to try again.
Even as flames billowed around him, and the other-his body incinerated in the blast, Danny was peripherally aware of the house being consumed. His family being consumed.
He should have moved to save them, first.
But no, he had to try to stop it at the source.
Because for all the times he tried to save his family, no matter how many timelines he jumped, the root cause always seemed to remain the same. Clockwork's soft words, like a death bell on his heart.
Despite changing worlds
Despite changing circumstances
He knew the name of the domino. He knew the card's face.
And once again, they all fell down.
He clutched the gear and stepped backward into a portal, dropping the lighter to be melted to slag with the rest of the burnt-out husk of a house. He didn't bother checking the other-family's bodies for life. He knew what he would find. In this world, and in every world, there was one thing that was constant. One killer that would end his family too early in their lives.
Despite everything, it's still you