Chapter 6: All In the Family
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or any of its characters. Strike, however, belongs to me.
"Auuuuuuugh!" Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all screamed as the RV dropped into the endless oblivion of the Ghost Zone.
"Augh!" Danny yelled, for a different reason. He'd dropped through the vehicle to underneath and was now trying to hold it up. It was still hot from the escape, however, and the burning metal components were searing his hands.
Abruptly, the RV stopped its descent. Immediately Danny withdrew his hands and began to blow on them, muttering, "Hot, hot, hot!" Still shaking them, he flew up to see what had happened.
Strike sat on top of the RV, looking smug. She spun her stick lazily in one hand. The knob on the top glowed, showing how the vehicle was managing to stay suspended.
Jazz stuck her head out the driver's window. "Nice move, Strike. For a ghost, you rock."
"Hey, I'm the one who got his hands burned trying to save your behinds," Danny complained.
"It's not that we don't appreciate that, Danny," Jazz added hastily, "It's just that—"
"It was a good thought, don't get me wrong," Strike interrupted. "But sometimes you have to know when brute strength won't get the job done and apply the right tool instead." She spun the stick one more time, then straightened abruptly. "We have to get out of here. It won't take your other self long to come after us. Now would be a good time to apply the brute strength."
"What?" asked Danny.
Strike rolled her eyes. "We're going to have to carry this thing to Clockwork's tower, ghost-kid. You're the one who wanted to bring it along. So unless you have some other brilliant plan on how to get us all there in one piece…"
"Oh." Danny thought hard for a minute. Nothing occurred to him. He flew over to join Strike on top of the RV, taking a firm grip on the front overhang. "Let's go, then."
Strike gave him a nod of approval, a cop to a civilian who has done something right. She went to the back of the RV, also bracing herself to take its weight, albeit with one hand. With the other, she tapped her stick against the RV itself to push the button.
"Time in."
Immediately Danny could feel the weight of the vehicle dragging them down. Straining, he managed to hold up his end and keep them from sinking into the Ghost Zone even further.
"Which way?" he called.
"Left!" ordered Strike. "No, your other left!" she shouted when Danny started to turn. "Not so far! A little right."
"Maybe you should have been in the front," Danny hissed.
"Too late now," Strike growled. "Go!"
"Bossy," Danny muttered under his breath as they started off. He was Danny Phantom—it came hard taking orders from anyone these days. Except for Sam—but of course she could order him around. She was his girlfriend, and his best friend before that. From Strike, the constant commands were starting to grate. He liked the female ghost, as much as it's possible to like a cop in her professional capacity. Certainly she was much easier deal with than Walker, the other ghost-cop he knew. She had already proved to be very handy to have around and good in a fight. But he was so used to being his own boss he was having some trouble following her lead.
After that he really didn't have much energy to spare for thinking. Privately, he was glad Dash had designed that workout regimen, and that Sam had talked him into following it. As she pointed out, superpowers were all well and good, but the stronger he was as both human and ghost, the less likely it was that enemies would return for more punishment. Thus far she had been right in more ways than one.
Strike was also surprisingly strong. Danny had yet to feel her waver. He could hear the strain in her voice when she gave directions, so he was reassured it wasn't easy for her either, but she never complained or grumbled despite her initial comment that bringing the RV had been Danny's idea.
At last, Clockwork's tower came into view. Between them Strike and Danny lowered the RV onto the slight patch of ground not taken up by the hulking structure. Danny collapsed and slid down to lean against the vehicle, breathing heavily. Sam popped out of the side door and came immediately to help him up.
"I'm fine," Danny said, trying to shake her off. However, he was too tired to do more than shrug one shoulder.
"Sure," Sam said, ignoring him, as she always did when he overextended himself. She draped one arm over her shoulders and hauled him up.
"You've been working out, too," Danny muttered irrelevantly.
"Never know when it might be useful to be able to carry your boyfriend's weight," Sam replied, managing to put some sarcastic cheer in her voice.
"Ugh," Tucker grumbled from behind them. "Images I do not need just popped into my head from that."
"Not my fault," Sam answered. "I didn't even think that could be considered dirty. Did it sound dirty to you?" she asked Jazz.
"Well, anything can be considered innuendo, from a psychological standpoint. If you—"
"Never mind. Should have realized who I was talking to," interrupted Sam. Danny and even Tucker chuckled as Tucker and Jazz went to help Strike up.
Strike huffed out a sigh once she was on her feet. "Come on."
They made their way into the tower. A hooded figure stood with its back to them, examining a scene in a glowing green frame on a stand. As they approached, the scene faded before Danny could tell what it had been.
The cloaked figure turned. It was Clockwork, Master of Time, clad in his usual purple cloak and carrying his own time staff. At the moment, he was in his young child form, looking like a squat blue five-year-old with red eyes. His staff was much more mechanical than Strike's, complete with gears and knobs.
"Welcome back, Danny, Samantha, Tucker," he said, nodding. "Jasmine. Nice to meet you in person. I take it my daughter has already explained who I am."
"Y—wait, daughter?"
"Daughter?" Danny, Sam and Tucker repeated.
"Dad," growled Strike. "I thought we agreed we were going to keep things professional?" If she hadn't been a cop, Danny thought he might have heard a hint of a whine in her voice. He and Jazz exchanged looks over Sam's shoulder. Both of them had used that tone enough with their own parents to confirm that Clockwork and Clockstrike were indeed father and daughter.
For his part, Clockwork gave Strike his characteristic tiny, secretive smile, showing off his baby teeth. "Very well, Enforcer. I'd ask what these four are doing here, but of course I already know. I will say you can't be here for very long."
"We figured out what his plan is," Danny said. "He wants to kill everyone who was supposed to die in the explosion three years ago so he can get back in the time stream. Then he'll kill me and Plasmius, since he won't need us around to exist anymore."
"He has the laws of the universe on his side on that one," Clockwork said.
"How do you mean?" asked Jazz.
Clockwork shrugged. "The universe has certain…preferences, shall we say. You call them laws; I call them guidelines. One of these 'guidelines' states that there cannot be two of one thing in existence at the same time. If something like that occurs because of an altered time stream, then things always transpire so that the versions continue to meet until one is destroyed or otherwise removed from the timestream. These meetings of Plasmius and Phantom, and Danny and Phantom, were fated to happen at some point so long as Phantom remains in this time stream. Phantom unknowingly removed one of his greatest threats by sending Plasmius back in time."
"So…wait." Danny's brain seemed to be moving at half its usual rate. "What you're saying is that he…and I…will keep meeting up until one of us…"
"Eliminates the other, correct." Clockwork aged to his adult form as he spoke. Now he looked like a man a little older than Strike.
"Wait," said Tucker. "So Danny, or somebody else, somehow has to kill…him? Or they'll keep meeting until one of them dies?"
"Or is removed from this time stream." Clockwork nodded.
"Oh, man. And how are we supposed to do that?" Danny demanded.
"The other choice is to get eliminated yourself, so that he's the only version of Danny Phantom. Of course the Enforcer and I would like to prevent that scenario. However, we're both at a serious disadvantage as long as Phantom has a Time Medallion. None of our time-manipulation powers will work on him."
"So our first job is to get it off him. Then what?" asked Jazz.
"He may vanish," Strike put in. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "We've never had a scenario like this before with the Time Medallions. Usually, taking one off while in a time period other than your own will return you to your original time. However, because his time stream no longer exists, he may also simply cease to exist. If not, then at least we have the advantage of being able to use time manipulation on him again. That might be enough for us to stop him."
"One question: why are you two so invested in this?" asked Jazz. "And why do you want us to win? Most ghosts would love to see Danny Phantom eliminated for good."
"This Danny Phantom is the better of the two alternatives." Strike replied matter-of-factly. "Believe me, we know."
"Thanks," Danny muttered.
"We're also responsible," Clockwork elaborated. "It's the price of meddling in time. It falls to us to fix any holes or anomalies we create, however inadvertently."
"But how are you—"
"Long story, Jazz. We'll fill you in on all the parts you missed later," Danny interrupted.
"Yeah. Right now we need a plan to get that medallion off the other Danny so we can beat him back to where he came from," agreed Sam.
"That means getting back to the human realm so we can protect Mom, Dad and Lancer," said Danny.
"Easy, from here." Clockwork gestured at his window. "This can return you whenever and wherever you want."
"Clockwork, I can do it," Strike said. "They brought that Fenton Vehicle."
"The time window has handled worse."
Strike narrowed her eyes. "I'm fine, Dad."
Clockwork only regarded his daughter for a moment out of suddenly mild red eyes. He transformed into an old man as they watched. Strike glared, then deflated angrily. Her hair went white, then red again. "Fine. We'll take the window."
"That's my girl," Clockwork said fondly.
"Hrmph," growled Strike. She went back out, slamming the front door behind her.
Clockwork shook his head. "Kids."
"She's hardly a kid," Sam pointed out. Danny knew she sympathized with anyone who had a frictional relationship with their parents. "To hear her talk, she's been around the block a little. Unless she made that up?"
"She didn't. She's been on many, many successful missions in her relatively short existence. But, as you may discover if you survive this little adventure, no matter how old your children get, for you, they never grow up."
Sam flushed and looked away from Danny, despite having Danny still draped over her shoulder. Danny felt his own face heating up. They'd been dating for years, and quite happily, but they had never discussed such permanent things as marriage and…children. That seemed years away. Years and years and years. Danny forcibly shoved the thought aside before his mind started spiraling away from their current mission. If his alternate self got his way, there would be no future for any of them to contemplate.
"I'll go get the RV," he said.
Clockwork shot him a smug look, as if he knew he'd caused Danny discomfort. Danny glared at him as he left.
He found Strike leaning against the Fenton RV waiting for him. "I take it he said something disconcerting so you felt compelled to come out here," she said.
"How'd you know?"
"It's his way of reminding us all he knows everything." Strike rolled her eyes.
"Like a parade from above."
"So he used that one on you. He's got lots of other metaphors for how he sees time. He waxes most mysterious in the middle of a crisis. C'mon, let's get back to your house before he gives us all a headache."
Between the two of them they shoved the RV whole through the walls of the tower as if it were intangible—Danny and his friends had long since discovered that real-world objects could do that in the Ghost Zone. He and Strike followed it using the door.
Danny did his best impression of a train whistle. "All aboard. Next stop, FentonWorks."
"How cute," growled Strike. "Can we dispense with the childish antics and focus, please?"
Danny, about to feel embarrassed, was pleased to see Sam, Tucker, and even Jazz glare at the female ghost.
"Making light of a situation when one is about to embark into potential danger is a perfectly natural and healthy response. It relieves the pressure of one's own looming mortality," Jazz announced in her most haughty psycho-babble tone.
"Yeah, what she said," Tucker seconded. "Whatever it was she just said."
"You don't like the Phantom sense of humor, you either deal or you don't come. We can protect ourselves pretty well without you," declared Sam, crossing her arms.
"Guys," Danny said, taking pity on the bristling Strike despite the fact that she was the one who had insulted him. "Thanks, I appreciate the support, but it's fine. You're cool, right?" he added to Strike.
She gave a curt nod.
"But, Danny—" Sam began, obviously still angry about something. Danny shot her a look that said Not now. Sam went quiet, though her face still remained thunderously dark.
"Let's get going," Danny said. The others piled into the RV. Danny leaned up subtly behind his girlfriend and whispered, "Don't make her look bad in front of her dad."
"Oh! Right." Sam relaxed a little, looking abashed.
"Not everyone likes the Phantom sense of humor the way you do. But thanks for the defense."
"Always." Sam kissed his cheek and clambered into the RV beside Tucker.
Danny turned to Strike. Her scarred face was expressionless. "Shall we?"
"Let's rock," Danny agreed.
"I'll contact you if I need to," Clockwork said.
"He's immune to our powers, Dad," Strike reminded from behind Danny. "Be careful."
Clockwork gave a small smile. "I know. I will."
Jazz started the RV. Danny and Strike flew to lift it up to the window. Clockwork twirled his staff, and the pulsating green circle grew to accommodate the RV's size.
"Whoa, cool," Danny managed before straining with all his might to move the RV and its passengers through the now-enormous hoop.
Just as they went through, he realized he had no idea where they were going to end up. Yes, he presumed Clockwork was sending them back to FentonWorks, but where was the Master of Time going to put them? Outside the house itself? Inside the house, in front of the Ghost Portal? The edge of Amity Park? Or—gulp—the air over the town?
He took a firmer grip on the RV.