Catalyst: A Story about Change
Chapter 5: Danny and Danny
Author's Note Please Read: This chapter is where the "adult themes" start coming in. If you think it's too mature, please tell me, and I can bump it up to "M". I don't want to get in trouble with the staff here. I personally think it still qualifies as Teen, but I may be confused on this point. oO
Also, in order to avoid confusion, Dan Phantom thinks of himself as Danny- if I refer to him as such it's because something's from his point of view. :) Erm...and also, this chapter is longer than the average chapter, don't expect the following chapters to all be this length. Okay, thanks for reading, sorry for the longwinded author's note, and I would be extremely grateful if you would let me know what you think after reading! (Even if it's flames- something in me tells me I deserve a few for this.) Also, grammar errors and stuff, if you see them...please, please let me know. :)
August 2, 7 ½ months after
In Amityville
Danny glanced back toward Tuck to throw him a parting "bye" as their paths parted on the way home. They'd just been to a movie (Vampire Alien Monsters Attack III) they'd been putting off seeing for months. Normally, Sam would've been the one to drag them along, and knowing it was her kind of movie made the experience strangely nostalgic.
Not surprisingly, Danny found his thoughts once again turning toward Sam as he made his way home. Of course, he thought, she could've been to see the movie, for all they knew. As Jazz had pointed out early on in the summer, Sam had left well prepared to take care of herself. Danny shoved this thought away, not wanting to think that Sam could be enjoying herself somewhere far away, without a thought for the pain she had caused the people she had left behind.
This summer had been Danny's worst by far. Jazz had calmed him down slightly early on by saying that Sam would probably come back on her own. But now it had been over four months, and Danny's hope was once again faltering. He couldn't help it, but lately resentment towards Sam was slowly surfacing. How could she leave them all behind like that?
The only thing holding back a tide of angry emotions was the possibility, still, that Sam had to leave. In all honesty, Danny couldn't believe, deep down, that he had been so utterly in the dark about Sam's true character, and the Sam he knew wouldn't leave everyone and everything she knew behind on a whim. That meant there had been a very good reason for her to go. He just wished he knew what it was.
Danny found it difficult to believe that, if she had stayed, Sam's family and friends (specifically him) couldn't have helped in some way, whatever the problem was. Unless…the problem included them, somehow? Maybe she needed to get away from someone close to her for some reason?
Danny frowned to himself as he walked home. Was that it? She couldn't get their help because it involved them somehow? He didn't like this train of thought, because he knew the most threatening thing in Amity Park was the ghost population. The ghosts only knew her through him, which meant that the person she couldn't include, for whatever reason, was probably him. But what problem could Sam be having that involved ghosts that she couldn't tell him about?
Maybe it didn't have anything to do with ghosts at all? Yet her parents had said no when he had asked (it had been awkward, however delicate he tried to be about it) if there had been a family crisis or some problem in Sam's life he didn't know about. However, everything had seemed fine to them.
Of course, Danny knew that her parents, though very caring, were rather out of touch with a lot that went on in her life. Take her after school ghost hunting activities, for instance, or the fact that her best friend was half ghost. They were completely in the dark, and had been for years. (Of course, he thought wryly, his parents weren't any better, and they were ghost hunters.)
So that meant her reason for running away (assuming it was a good one, and he did) probably did have something to do with him. Danny had a feeling, as he walked along, that this thought had been simmering in the back of his mind for a while, but simply hadn't come to the surface until now. He'd been longing for a reason behind Sam's disappearance for months, and apparently his subconscious mind had been hard at work putting together an answer for him.
Jazz hadn't helped, Danny realized. She didn't know Sam as well as he did, and was convinced that she would come back before too long, and that whatever crisis Sam was going through wouldn't be big enough to keep her away from the people who could help her through it.
But Jazz was working from the assumption that Sam was embarrassed about something, or simply needed to be on her own for a while, or that this was simply some "adolescent phase" she was going through. Danny knew Sam better than that though, and after enough time passed by that he could think objectively about what had happened, he realized that she loved her friends and family too much to leave unless she had no other choice. He didn't think it would even occur to her to leave, otherwise. Danny had to believe that.
As this explanation began to take hold within him, Danny could feel the fear and anxiety gradually welling back up as well. These feelings had been like an unending buzz in the back of his mind all summer long, sometimes louder, sometimes softer, but never completely gone. Now they were crescendoing higher than ever before. He began walking faster, fists clenched in his pockets, and eyebrows drawn together in a deep frown of concentration.
If he had reasoned things out correctly so far, the only question left was whether Sam was protecting her friends and family, herself, or both by leaving. Danny didn't see how going off on her own was safer for her than staying here, which meant that she was protecting friends or family. Possibly she was even protecting…him specifically.
He stopped suddenly, feeling the need to fly, and burn off some of his frustration. He stepped into a side alley where he turned invisible and immediately took off into the sky, his thoughts already racing a mile a minute. Had Sam really left because of him specifically? He didn't know what he'd do if she was in trouble because she was trying to save him from something. He let out a frustrated growl and pushed himself as he flew, trying to go as fast as he could, and in minutes he was outside the city limits. He kept going, entire body tensed, as the wind whipped at near super sonic speeds around him. He brought up a shield in front of his face to deflect it.
All the worry and fear he'd been pushing down the past few months was back on the surface and twice as strong, but this time a sense of guilt was rising with it. If he didn't have these stupid powers, if he wasn't always including her in the ghost hunting, she might not be gone right now! Somehow this struck a deep nerve in him, and at the same time he was certain this was true. It just made perfect sense. Her leaving so suddenly was so incredibly abnormal, so something equally strange must've caused her to leave. And what was the only strange, abnormal thing in her life? Him! He was the problem. Somehow, some ghost had done something, or maybe a group of ghosts had done something, to make her leave. Had they threatened her? Was it a ghost he knew?
The urge to beat someone senseless rose up suddenly, and Danny found himself taking huge gasps of air. He stopped suddenly to get the surge of adrenaline under control, and hovered in the air. Distantly he could hear a sound that might've been a sonic boom overtake him, but the blood was pounding so strongly in his ears that he hardly noticed it. His vision, too, was tinged red; he knew he needed to calm down.
But it was hard, when he realized what was going on. Because somehow he was sure, though he didn't know how. It might've been intuition, but whatever it was this explanation just screamed at him that it was the right one. Sam was gone, and it had something to do with protecting him, or possibly her family, from a ghost or group of ghosts. His lips curled into a horrible grimace as he tried to picture whoever had driven her away. They were to blame, and, indirectly, her involvement in ghost fighting and with him.
The sense of guilt came welling up again, and with it rose a furious anger. Why the hell did he have to feel guilty for something someone else had done? It wasn't like he had a choice about fighting ghosts! Was he supposed to let them wreak havoc? And Sam was his best friend; it was only natural she'd want to help! She was even there when he got his powers! Danny let out a scream, his face toward the sky, and was aware that it wasn't a normal howl; it was instead the ghastly super destructive force of the ghostly wail, at its most powerful.
He wasn't the enemy here! The ghost or ghosts who drove Sam away were to blame, not him, and he wasn't going to feel guilty for them! Yet the guilt refused to go away completely, and the feeling was like adding fuel to the fire; it only made him angrier.
Well, they would pay. He'd find out what had happened, and make it right. Then he'd get Sam back here, somehow. With this thought, a sense of longing rose up in his chest for the way things were before, and his anger ebbed a little. He'd fix things, and then he'd let Sam know it was safe, and that no one would ever hurt her or the ones she loved. Things would be good again. And then…Danny paused for a moment in his thoughts, his whole face scrunching up with emotion, but he couldn't stop from finishing the painfully wistful thought. And then…he'd tell her about his feelings for her.
He let himself sink downward, all the energy draining out of him as a feeling of depression washed over him, and after a moment he landed in a lightly forested area. Now that the anger was under control, he realized how hard it would be to get things back to normal. Sam obviously hadn't thought he could help when she left, yet she knew what he was capable of better than anyone, besides Tucker and Jazz. Who or what was it she was so sure he couldn't beat? And what made him so sure that she wasn't right?
Danny let himself drop to his hands and knees, head hanging down, and looked down at the grass below. He could feel tears starting to form. The truth was he wasn't sure if he could do anything, really. Sam was very smart, and if she didn't think it was something he could fix, then maybe it wasn't. And who said that beating up a few ghosts was all there was to it? Maybe something else was going on, something that couldn't be solved with a few ecto-blasts.
Danny let out a shuddering sigh as he thought of all the time he had wasted over the summer. Had he really thought she was just going to show back up one day? And if she didn't come back on her own, how was he going to find her, even if he did make things safe back home? And even if he did find her, how did he know things could go back to the way they were between them, let alone…go further? Danny watched as a few tears dripped off the tip of his nose and fell into the grass, and let out another sigh. She wasn't a loner; she would've made some sort of friends, wherever she went, right? Maybe…maybe she even had a boyfriend. Danny's face screwed back up again at the thought. No, he couldn't think about that. Besides, he told himself, it wasn't like she was a fast moving person. Heck, she had to know someone for, oh, most of her life, before she'd be willing to date them.
A small smile surfaced on his face at that, and he sniffed loudly, sitting back on his heels. He looked up at the sky, and sniffed again, trying to clear away the tears. He needed to deal with one thing at a time, and sitting around worrying about how Sam might've changed wasn't going to help anything. And anyway, he didn't have any reason to think that she had changed. Besides, he could hardly worry about what she thought of him when he didn't even know where she was yet. Danny sighed, and finally felt a feeling of relative calm return as he gazed into the sky. After a moment he stood up, and started flying back home, more slowly this time.
Danny could feel the wind drying up his tears as he went, but his mind was a thousand miles away. He would have to find every ghost he had fought, and question them about Sam. This was something concrete he could start with, and he had to believe right now that it would lead somewhere. He'd questioned a few ghosts early on in his search for Sam, but he had been sporadic and disorganized about it. This time he would make a list and track them down systematically. No ghost would be left off, not even the Box Ghost. If there was some sort of conspiracy going on, even the Box Ghost might've heard of it (though Danny couldn't imagine him being involved.) He frowned in determination as he flew home. He would be nice at first, but if Danny thought someone was holding something back he wouldn't hesitate to rough them up. He did not have anymore time to waste.
Technus, Skulker, the Box Ghost, Johnny 13 and Kitty, Ember, Walker, Desiree…and the list went on. He hadn't even gotten to the really tough ghosts yet, like Fright Night, or Vlad Plasmius.
Danny frowned down at the notepad in front of him. He was sitting cross legged in the middle of his bed, and was in the middle of compiling a list of ghosts to question. He frowned to himself. Vlad wasn't a full ghost, of course, but he was definitely an enemy, and Danny would need to include all possible threats, not just ghosts. Come to think of it, he wouldn't put it past that disgusting Circus Gothica freak to try something for revenge, even though he didn't have any special powers anymore. Was he still in jail? Danny made a note on the pad to check on that.
Danny put the pad down and stretched his arms for a moment. Some of these confrontations were not going to be fun, but at least he had strength on his side. Danny hadn't actually fought a lot of these ghosts for a while, but he felt sure most of them would no longer be a danger to him at all. He'd grown up a lot over the last year, and was now pushing six foot two in height. His voice had dropped over the summer as well, though it still cracked a lot. Overall he could be a lot more intimidating now when he felt like it, as compared to a few years ago. His powers had increased with age and use as well, including the ghostly wail. Danny could use it for longer periods of time now, and control its strength somewhat. He was finally putting on a little bulk, too. Actually, he thought, I'm finally starting to look a little like my future self.
Danny paused what he was doing, surprised at his train of thoughts. Slowly, he put down the pencil and got up from the bed, and then made his way over to the mirror to look at himself. His reflection was squinting back at him, looking concerned. He guessed it was a little freaky, but then what had he expected? In a way, it was a thought that popped up every once in a blue moon ever since his encounter with his future self. However evil he had been, his future self was still a reflection of what Danny would look like when he was full grown. Without the fangs, teeth, or smoldering hair, of course. Or the blue skin and snake tongue. As far as everything else went, though…they matched. In a way he begrudged his future self for having his face, since once in a while, as Danny had been growing into it, he would be put on guard (weirdly enough) whenever he looked in a mirror. He'd gotten over that quickly, of course.
The voice was the worst, though. He looked different enough physically, due to the lack of fangs and stuff, so his looks didn't bother him that much. But his voice, especially when it first started dropping a few months ago, was another thing entirely. For the first few days it had freaked out Jazz and Tucker as much as him. They'd gotten almost completely used to it over the summer, but still…he almost wished his future self had been mute, or something. Then he wouldn't have a negative reaction to the sound of his own voice. Of course, by now he'd gotten used to hearing his new voice, and its association with his evil self had dropped away.
Danny smiled to himself. His dad had been overjoyed, thinking it was the coolest thing in the world. He seemed to think it was an appropriately "manly" voice, and perfect for a Fenton, and his son.
"My son! The one with the booming, manly voice!" He'd even said once, and in a crowded area. Danny winced slightly and rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed at the memory. Some things never changed.
His mom had been less excited, not wanting to let go of her little boy so soon.
"Well Danny, you're a young man now, there's no denying it," she'd said with a sad glint in her eye. He hadn't known what to say at the time, and had just smiled.
He moved back to his bed, letting himself fall back onto it, and looked up at the ceiling, mind wandering further. What was his future self up to right now, anyway? He'd shown up out of the blue right before last Christmas, and Danny still didn't know what to make of it. Clockwork had shown up before they even started fighting, however, and had frozen his evil self in time. Apparently the Fenton thermos had given out, but Clockwork hadn't told him how he was going to hold Dan now. Maybe he'd use a bigger, better version of the Fenton thermos from the future? He was sure that something existed somewhere in time that could imprison his future self effectively, in any case.
But there were still a lot of unanswered questions Danny had about that day. The conversations with both Dan and Clockwork had been plain weird. Dan had threatened to ruin his life with three words, but wouldn't actually do it. Then Clockwork had shown up. They'd been about to fight, when suddenly there he was, everything else, Dan included, frozen in time.
Danny still remembered the feeling of immense relief as clear as day. He wouldn't have to fight his future self after all.
"Clockwork!"
"Hello, Danny." Clockwork had looked like a young man at the time.
Danny had straitened up from his crouch, and had attempted to relax somewhat.
"I thought you could keep him under control," he said, motioning toward Dan. He hadn't meant to sound so accusing, in retrospect, but Dan appearing out of nowhere had really shocked him.
Clockwork had raised his eyebrows and smiled secretively at him. "You're right. I underestimated the strength of the Fenton thermos, and he took the opportunity to escape when I was away on business. But I've caught up with him now, so there's no need to be afraid."
"I see." Danny couldn't help wondering where Clockwork had been during the escape, though, and why he didn't have more layers of protection in the first place. "I guess you'll have a better prison for him this time, though?" A thought occurred to Danny, one that should've been obvious. "In fact, couldn't you just keep him frozen in time?"
Clockwork chuckled, and spoke in a voice that, even after all this time, still seemed strangely ambivalent to Danny. "Yes and no. By staying in my home, he is already removed from time, most of the time." His mouth curled up into a smile, showing his amusement. "To freeze him in time within a timeless space would be very…tricky. Certain things could be thrown out of balance, and more problems would be created than solved, in the long run. Trust me on this."
"Then how are you going to keep him? Do you have something stronger than a Fenton thermos?"
Clockwork, still hovering in the air, had turned slightly to focus on Dan, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Put him out of your mind, Danny, and rest assured that things will be as they should be." He'd moved toward Dan, and had reached out to touch him, Danny following behind. As Clockwork had grasped hold of the phantom's wrist, he had turned to look back at Danny, and had held his eyes briefly in a piercing stare.
"Remember, Danny, everything happens for a reason." Then he had disappeared, and time had resumed.
Danny had stood thinking for a few minutes before heading back upstairs. He hadn't mentioned the encounter to anyone, for some reason. They didn't really need to know, since the problem had presumably been taken care of, and he guessed he hadn't told them because it would've made them worry for no reason. Danny had been tense and worried for a few hours afterward, even though Clockwork had said to put Dan out of his mind. That was just the effect seeing his future self again had caused, rational or not. And then there was the way Clockwork had said things. He'd never said exactly how he was going to deal with Dan, something Danny would've liked to know. Also, Sam had been sick at the time, and she was normally the first person he confided in. By the time she was better he'd already moved on from it.
Actually, Danny was almost sorry for his future self, at times. It was true he'd done horrible things, but then he'd also lost everyone who was dear to him. Deep down, he wasn't sure...he hated to even think it, but…Danny wasn't sure he'd be all that different from his future self if the Nasty Burger explosion had taken his family and friends. So in a way, he could almost understand some of the things about his future self, though he'd never, never admit it to anyone. It would be like giving away his deepest, darkest secret…
Danny shuddered. He'd promised during the fight never to turn into that horrible future self, but he'd done it with the conviction that his family and friends would come out alive. If they had died…he didn't want to think about it, but couldn't stop the subtle thoughts from leaking through. If…he had lost everything, and even gone to live with Vlad, as his future self had done, what would have happened? He wouldn't have been stupid enough to split his ghost and human halves apart, but that didn't mean, even with his human half, that he wouldn't degrade over time into something evil.
Danny got up from his bed suddenly, and walked briskly back and forth to clear his mind. He did not like where his thoughts had wandered. There were certain things he didn't want to think about, and that dark future was one of them. He ran his hand through his hair, and took a few slow, deep breaths of air to get some oxygen to his brain. He let the last one out in a whoosh and plunked back down on the bed, scooping up the notepad in the process. Right now he had other things to worry about, like getting Sam back.
The Ghost Zone
He was floating, alone, in a vast empty space. It wasn't completely empty, of course, but he had made his way to one of the truly peaceful areas of the ghost zone. Contrary to what some people might think, this place wasn't heaven or anything like it. It was simply a place for people to live, or at least exist, when they were too attached to something to truly move on after they had died. That meant, of course, that it wasn't a place for normal dead people. Everyone here had something that held them there, though everyone moved on, eventually. Of course, sometimes a person was just plain obsessive about something, like Walker, for instance. He'd probably be around forever. And the Box Ghost too.
Danny snorted, and folded his arms together. Who was he kidding? He didn't know what this place really was, or if there even was a heaven for that matter. He sighed, even though it wasn't something he had to do; it was just a comforting habit he still clung to, like so many others. In many ways he still felt human, and so in a way that meant he was. Or something like that. He wasn't the philosophical sort, but when you have no one else to talk to, your mind goes the strangest places…
He hadn't seen another ghost for several days now. And no one had seen him in months. It was part of the agreement with Clockwork. He'd promised to stay invisible at all times, and to not "interfere" in any way. Or else. He hadn't known at first if he could do it, but in a way, being stuck in that thermos had taught him a lesson he'd never forget. Patience, and how to be calm when he needed to be. You just couldn't stay angry for two years straight, not when you were trapped in a space as small as the Fenton thermos!
Danny pushed himself forward languidly, and thought back, once again, to the last time he'd talked with Clockwork. He'd been seconds away from fighting his younger self, or running away, or something. He hadn't known what he was going to do, actually. But it hadn't mattered, because Clockwork had intervened, and suddenly he'd found himself floating with him in the ghost zone. Clockwork had begun speaking before Danny even had time to register the abrupt change of scenery.
"If you try to fight me, I'll have to lock you away again, and this time I might not let you back out." He looked serious, but calm at the same time, as though he didn't feel threatened in the least.
Something about Clockwork's attitude unnerved Danny, and the idea of being trapped in the thermos again hardly appealed, so he let his arms drop unthreateningly. He had been holding the fighting stance meant for his younger self.
"You didn't let me out. I escaped." Clockwork smiled and bent his head slightly in acknowledgement.
"My mistake. You escaped, of course." Clockwork raised his eyebrows. "And you picked the perfect time to do it." Suddenly his form shifted to that of an old man, and Danny was reminded of how ancient this creature in front of him was. He found he wasn't sure what to say or expect, so he simply watched the old ghost carefully.
"Danny, I don't want to put you back in the thermos, but you're my responsibility. I can't let you wreak havoc in this realm or the human world." Danny looked off to his left, avoiding the other ghost's gaze, and fought down a sudden wave of guilt. Clockwork was wrong; he'd already done damage. Still, he was not going back in that damnable thermos. Clockwork went on speaking.
"I propose a truce. I'll let you roam free, but you cannot show yourself to anyone, or do anything to alter this world in any way. You must hide your existence completely from everyone. I suggest you simply stay invisible at all times." He raised a finger and his eyebrows to stop Danny from interrupting. "If you behave yourself, I will allow you to enter fully into this time stream. You'll able to start from scratch, build a life for yourself, all the things a human being should be able to do."
A dark cloud descended over Danny at the last comment. He felt the need to correct Clockwork. "I'm not human."
Clockwork gave him a strange look. "Of course. But you're still a person, and I'd like to see you build a life for yourself." His eyes narrowed and his voice grew suddenly harsh. "However, if you don't follow the rules, there is nothing I can do for you. I will be forced to remove you from this time stream permanently."
Danny couldn't help feeling unnerved by this. He had never found a way to kill a ghost, but maybe Clockwork had? Danny pursed his lips and crossed his arms, trying to look unconcerned.
"You'll kill me?"
"No." Clockwork met his gaze coolly. "It would be much worse than death, in my opinion. You would be confined inside a practically indestructible device even smaller than the Fenton thermos for a very, very long time. The past two years would be like the blink of an eye in comparison."
Danny's cool persona slipped a little. The thought of going back inside that damnable thermos was far from a pleasant one. Still, he hadn't been given any indication that Clockwork could actually get him inside one, at least by himself. This could be one huge bluff for all he knew. Still, better safe than sorry, he thought.
"What proof do I have that you can do anything to me, Clockwork? My past self was the one to put me in that thermos, not you. You're no more than some crazy meddler for all I know." He waited for a reply, eyes narrowed in case Clockwork attacked.
He gasped as he suddenly felt the cool touch of metal to his neck, and it took him a second to realize what was going on. Clockwork had his scythe pressed against his jugular! Before Danny even had a chance to do something about the blade at his throat, however, Clockwork was back in front of him, once again at a safe distance. Danny clenched his jaw, feeling distinctly powerless. He hated feeling powerless.
"As you see, I can take you anywhere or do anything to you, and you would be powerless to stop me. Sometimes I may appear to be more inept than I am, if the situation calls for it, but in truth my control over time makes me more powerful than you can imagine. Normally, I'm not supposed to directly intercede, Danny, but in your case I can do whatever I want. I've been given personal responsibility over you."
Danny found he couldn't look Clockwork in the face, and wished he was standing on firm ground if only to feel something under his feet. Somehow he couldn't make himself get angry, though the feeling of helplessness was growing fast. He had already spent two years trapped inside a space the size of his fist. He couldn't go back there, and was nearly willing to concede that if following the rules would keep him free, then he could follow the rules.
Still, Clockwork didn't seem to catch everything. Danny looked at him out of the corner of his eye, wondering. He had escaped nearly two days ago, yet Clockwork was just now catching up to him.
Some of his thoughts must've shown on his face, because Clockwork seemed to answer the unspoken question.
"No, Danny. I'm aware of everything that you've done since you escaped the thermos." His eyes were hard, and as cold as ice. "Everything." Then he knew about…? A wave of guilt washed over him, and he looked away again.
"Then why are we having this conversation?" His voice was rough with more emotion that he was comfortable showing. He clenched his fists, waiting for the game to end and Clockwork to come to his senses. He obviously had no intention of letting him go anywhere if he knew about that.
But the attack he'd been expecting never came. Instead, Clockwork continued speaking, his voice slow and steady. It wasn't cold like before, but it wasn't compassionate either.
"Feeling guilty, Danny? Don't answer. I can see it on your face. She was your best friend once; you should feel guilty. What did she ever do, except love you?" Danny couldn't believe it, but somehow this was worse. A fight, or even a beating, he could've handled, but this quiet reprimand was tearing him to pieces. He was actually coming close to tears, and didn't trust his voice enough to speak.
"The reason I'm giving you a chance isn't because you've proven yourself to me in the last two days." He snorted. "Far from it."
Suddenly Clockwork was in his face, only inches away. Danny flinched backward, but the other ghost had grabbed hold of his shoulders. His eyes were eerily intense, and when he spoke his voice dropped to a harsh whisper.
"Never forget this guilt, Danny. Never. And with that feeling in your heart, look over what you've done with your life for the last decade, and tell yourself if you really like what you see." Clockwork moved back after a moment, giving Danny back his personal space. "Then think about this world, and how things could be different. Think about your true feelings for Sam, and your family. Maybe someday, if you behave, you might even be a part of that again, in some form or fashion."
Danny looked away, face twisting. He'd blown any chance at that two days ago, when he...when he hurt Sam. He wanted to collapse and bury his face in his hands as despair suddenly welled up inside him, but couldn't let himself in front of Clockwork. What had he done? Ashamed of the tears he was dangerously close to shedding, he turned to face completely away from the time master.
Clockwork continued speaking to his back. "You have the chance to change, Danny, and perhaps someday make amends. Don't throw it away. I'll be watching you, and if you follow the rules I'll return to give you your complete freedom." His voice became harsh again, and cooled to glacial standards. "I you don't, I pity your existence. Death would be more kind."
After a moment he went on, and it seemed to Danny that his voice was fading. "Be patient, and follow the rules. You must not interfere, and you must not be seen. You have ten years of bad deeds to think over, Danny, and coming to terms with that will take some time. But rest assured that I will return." Danny turned back around, sensing that Clockwork was finished speaking, but when he looked the master of all time (and, now, his master too) had already gone.
That had been at least half a year ago, maybe longer. Danny wasn't really keeping track, not that it was an easy thing to do in the Ghost Zone. He wasn't confined there, of course, and had been to the human world several times, always remaining invisible and intangible. The only place truly off limits was Amity Park. He wouldn't go within two thousand miles of that place. He couldn't.
He couldn't stand to see Sam, and the others. To see his younger self when he realized what his "evil future self" had done. No, it was better that he stay away from them, in order to avoid the stronger emotions. He knew he lost his temper too easily, and couldn't risk showing himself in anger. Or in remorse, perhaps. He didn't know what he'd do, actually, and wasn't about to find out.
This relatively deserted part of the Ghost Zone was good for collecting his thoughts, and for calm contemplation. He would always come back here after being in the human world, in order to reclaim emotional balance.
He had been doing what Clockwork had suggested, on and off. With only himself as company for months, and with violence or any other action that could change something in this world strictly off limits, Danny was left with his own thoughts. He'd thought through a lot of his past actions over the past several months, and had come to one conclusion so far.
He'd been acting, almost instinctively, out of anger and pain for the past ten years. Actually, he didn't think he'd had a clear thought in his head until he'd been trapped in the thermos for a good while. And that was only because the confined space had forced him to stop and think…eventually. It was ironic, really. He'd been proclaiming himself free from human emotion all this time, and that was what had been ruling him.
He had been angry and upset when separated from his human half all those years ago. He had a vague recollection of what had been left behind, and it seemed to him that he'd gotten all the harsher emotions while his human half had gotten the softer, weaker ones. Anger, resentment, a little fear, the urge to hurt something- these were strong in him, while his human half must've gotten the sadness and that overwhelming sense of loss he remembered feeling before the separation. He still felt the so called softer emotions, and he still felt the sense of loss. But it was muted enough that he could tune it out by destroying things. A good solid rampage had never failed to destroy the lingering sadness, if only for a little while.
So was that what the past ten years had been? His attempt at avoiding the pain of loss that, deep down, was still present even in his ghost form? Of course, there had been Vlad as well. He wasn't sure what had happened there, though he knew that he was still him, and Vlad was still Vlad. Only now he had Vlad's ghost powers as well as his own.
Things had gotten darker with the merge, though. He'd felt less in control for several minutes afterward. It had been painful, and he had felt the need to lash out at anything and everything for a while. That was the reason he'd killed his other half that day. It hadn't been premeditated; it had been instinctual. Seeing himself there sniveling on the ground had disgusted him for some reason, and the urge to destroy was already pumping through his veins.
Vlad was incredibly lucky that the urge to escape coupled with the urge to fly had taken precedence over the urge to kill again. Otherwise, Danny knew Vlad would've died that day, next to Danny's other self.
He had been wondering lately why his ghost half seemed so much harsher than his human half, and was curious on some level about whether, if it could be done again, the two halves would always split the way they did. If he had taken the majority of the sadness and despair, instead of the anger and hurt, would he still have attacked Vlad and his other self? He didn't think so. Things might've been very different.
Danny sighed to himself, and let his mind wander. How much longer would it be before Clockwork showed up? He would have questions for him when he did. There were many things that concerned him directly that he knew nothing about. He had never bothered to explore the nature of his ghost body (beyond training it into a weapon), or what exactly had happened when he overshadowed Vlad's ghost half all those years ago. It was amazing to him that he was only asking these questions now, but then he'd only now gotten past his need to destroy things.
It had been a pathetic existence, really. And at the time he had nearly convinced himself that what he had was better than what he had lost. How utterly delusional- he'd had it completely reversed! Now all he felt was a sense of regret. He'd been blind and selfish, taking out his pain and anger on countless innocents in the process of his self denial.
If there was one thing he had decided in these months of solitude, it was that he was never going to kill again. He'd had enough of it. It was something he would never do, even if it was in self defense. Somehow, he felt this was an iron clad truth. It wasn't something he promised himself; it was simply something that would never come to pass. That part of his life was over forever.
Clearly he was no judge of who should live and who should die. For all he knew, no one had the right to judge that. But he had proved that he personally wasn't qualified beyond the shadow of a doubt. He had tried to kill off his own loved ones, for goodness sake!
This was a subject Danny had spent a long time on, and the further away he got from the mindset he'd been in during that time, the more crazy his reasoning at the time seemed. He had been absolutely convinced that the future he knew had to happen. You couldn't change the past; that was simply impossible. As such, that meant the Nasty Burger explosion would have to kill his family and friends. There was no escaping it. It had been inevitable. In a way, he was obsessed with that accident, and had been for the past ten years. The idea that it could be stopped was simply unthinkable.
Therefore, he'd done everything in his power to make sure it happened, and happened how he remembered it. He'd had multiple chances to simply kill family members before the explosion, especially Jazz, but then it wouldn't have been the same. In retrospect, he had been obsessed and illogical. He'd been changing things right and left by even being in the past! What made him think the future wouldn't be completely different in any case, regardless of whether the explosion killed his loved ones or not? At the time, though, he had been certain of how things worked, while at the same time working off of emotion more than logic. And, irony of ironies, he'd boasted back then about being emotionless.
There had been another factor driving him. There was the fear, hardly even acknowledged, that if things were changed in the past, he would cease to exist. The person he knew to be himself, at least, would be replaced with someone else. And where did that leave him?
In short, he'd been one seriously crazed up fruit loop. Danny grinned to himself. He used to call Vlad that, years ago. The grin faded after a moment. He was better off now, though. Danny knew that being able to see his faults was a good sign, so things were finally heading in the right direction. He didn't want to go down the road of the past ten years ever again, whatever the future held for him.
Danny let his mind relax again, and could feel that familiar sense of guilt welling back up, though it wasn't as sharp as it once was. Over the months, it had broadened to include the misdeeds over the past decade, though the focus had initially been on Sam.
Sam. He had…never done that to anyone before. She had been the first. In all his years of rampaging, he'd never turned to that for comfort. It had always been a lust for violence he'd had, and nothing else. As he found himself looking back at the encounter he'd had with her, he realized that one strange coincidence after another had led into what had happened between them.
The first coincidence had happened shortly after he'd escaped from the thermos, which had been a fluke in and of itself. (Every once in a while he would bash against the walls as best he could, and on that occasion, amazingly, he had hit something just right to actually get out.) He'd flown through Clockwork's time portal without doing much more to it than setting the location somewhere in Amity Ville, and upon arriving he'd realized he was only about a block away from Sam's house.
He wasn't actually sure what he wanted to do first, or even what day it was. The only thing he had known for certain at that point was that he wanted revenge against his younger self for locking him away for over two years. As such, he had decided to check things out at Sam's place.
He'd turned intangible, and made his way over. Upon flying through the front door, he'd thought the house was empty, and had made his way up to Sam's room, almost out of habit, strangely enough.
She'd been in the shower, which had been the second coincidence. This had caused a few goose bumps to rise, but he'd ignored that, and had taken the opportunity to hop on her laptop and find out what day it was. It seemed unlikely that his other self was at school if Sam wasn't. And he was right. It had been a Saturday morning, a little after nine o'clock, and it was the start of the winter break. Her e-mail had been open, and he'd gone ahead and perused it as well. Her parents had just left the day before, and would be gone for a week. They'd sent her an e-mail late last night letting her know they'd arrived safely. Her Grandmother, who had wanted a change of scenery, was with them. So Sam was alone for a week.
That was when he had first started concentrating on her, instead of his other self. He had gone through her other e-mails, suddenly interested to find out what her plans for the day were. Knowing his other self and Tucker, they wouldn't even be up until past ten since it was a Saturday. And this was the first day of the break, too, so they were pretty much guaranteed to be asleep for the next few hours. As this thought had been running through Danny's head, he'd heard the water cut off, and had quickly put things back the way they were, going invisible in the process. Then he had waited for her to come out, still not sure what he was doing there.
It had been a few minutes, during which time his thoughts had roiled in his head. What was he doing here? Sam had been…special to him, but that was a long time ago. In a way, she was the ghost here, not him. But still, he couldn't deny a certain longing to see her again, and a sudden pang of jealousy towards his other self had surfaced when he realized this. What had he been up to in the past few years, anyway? Were he and Sam still best friends, or were they something more? Suddenly he had been certain that the Danny in this time period had stepped up the relationship, or would soon, and his jealousy had quadrupled.
He didn't know what would happen, if Clockwork would find him again, or if his past self would beat him again. It was a possibility, especially since the other Danny had had time to train and grow stronger over the past two years, whereas he had been trapped and unable to train. He had to be weaker than he was two years ago, come to think of it, and for all he knew, he could be getting his butt kicked in a few hours, or a few days!
And his other self would still be here, to enjoy his life. To enjoy his family and friends, and Sam, while he would be trapped, miserable and alone. Something had cried out inside of him at the injustice of it. He'd lost everything, and yet here it was being held tantalizingly in front of him. It was like fate was saying "this is what you can never have". Why did his other self get the perfect life, and not him?
Sam had come out of the bathroom just then. She'd been wearing a towel on her head, presumably the one she'd used to dry off with. Because besides that, she was naked.
He had stared openly at her, embarrassed and mesmerized at the same time. She had matured in the last two years, her angles turning into curves, and was glowing from the shower. She was beautiful. He'd known it on some level before, but now…it just screamed at him. And he had wanted her, he realized, as he'd watched her walk over to her chest of drawers. He had looked around at that point, surreptitiously, to see if all the windows and doors were closed.
And somehow, at the time, he'd justified to himself what he was about to do. He'd told himself his other self would have her for the rest of his life, while he would have nothing if he didn't take it then. He'd told himself that he deserved this, after everything that had happened to him, all the losses he had suffered. And there had been one thing he could take that his other self would never get back, and that was Sam's first time. He would be her first, and nothing could ever change that. This had wiped out the fact, temporarily, that she wouldn't be willing.
He'd moved forward to close her laptop, and she'd turned around at the sound. He'd stayed invisible as he moved the laptop off her bed and over to the desk. Her jaw had dropped, and she'd run towards the dresser. He hadn't noticed it before, but there was a Fenton thermos sitting on top of it. He'd cut her off, becoming visible in the process. He could still see her look of horror in his mind's eye as he had pulled the towel away from her and backed her toward the bed. She'd known what was coming.
It wasn't much, but he had been gentle with her. He'd gone slowly and carefully, wanting her to enjoy it too, even while knowing it wasn't going to happen as he would've liked. She didn't want him, and there was nothing he could do to change that. Still, her body had reacted, against her will, to his delicate caresses. Her subconscious mind had accepted what was coming even if she hadn't, and had prepared her body for the intrusion as best it could. So at least he could take comfort in the fact that he hadn't hurt her much, at least physically. The mental scarring, however, would probably never disappear completely, and for that he was miserable every day.
Afterwards, he remembered, when they were lying in bed together, and he had been enjoying the afterglow of the experience, his conscience had finally started catching up with him. He'd tried…he'd actually tried justifying himself to her, and looking back he could only cover his face in shame.
He'd been relaxed, and so had she; at least, she hadn't been noticeably tense. What was done was done; there had been no more reason to struggle. He'd had his head buried in the space between her head and her shoulder, one arm flung lightly over her waist. For a moment he could pretend that this was their wedding bed, perhaps, and that she had wanted this. He'd pushed the fantasy too far, though, when he had suddenly wanted to look into her eyes, hoping against hope to find something wonderful there. He could still remember the conversation that had followed word for word.
He had moved up a bit, resting on his side, and had propped his head up using his right arm, bent at the elbow. Then he'd reached up with the other arm to cup the back of her head and turn her face toward his. She had refused to meet his eyes.
"Look at me." She had slowly brought her eyes up to meet his. At first they were distant, but after a few moments they really focused in on him, and when they did it had been horrible. They were accusing, and cold, though he could see a burning resentment boiling up through the icy exterior. Against all reason, he had been surprised and hurt.
"Don't look at me like that." His tone had been soft, but the mild anger in it had caused a slight flicker of fear in her eyes.
"How do you expect me to look at you?" Her voice was equally quiet, and a little hoarse. She'd cried some earlier, and had yelled for help.
He hugged her to him then, and spoke into her ear. In retrospect, his voice must've sounded desperate, but he couldn't remember.
"Sam…Sam…I know I've changed a lot, but I'm still Danny. I'm still the kid you grew up with. If nothing else, just acknowledge that. I don't expect you to love me," even though he did. He'd pulled back from her and looked her in the eyes. Her mouth had been tight, and her eyebrows were furrowed. Then, slowly, as her eyes darted back and forth between his eyes, a look of betrayal had risen to the surface.
She'd looked away then, trying to mask it. "You're not…you're not Danny. Maybe you were once, but not anymore." Her voice wobbled slightly on the last word.
He'd gotten angry suddenly. Of course he was Danny! That was his name, damn it! And she'd better recognize that! He'd shaken her slightly, and spoken loudly.
"Say my name, Sam." He had shaken her again, once, when she didn't respond. "Say it!" His lips were pulled back in a grimace. How dare she!
The tears he'd seen hints of finally started to fall as she lost her cool in return and yelled back at him. "Then how could you do this to me?" She'd let out a pathetic sob, which was a sound he'd never forget, and had whispered once again, "how could you, Danny?"
She'd said his name. He'd gotten what he wanted, hadn't he? Then why did he feel like crying all of the sudden? At that point, he'd had to justify himself to her, explain his actions. His voice had been shaky, and he'd spoken fast and with intensity, but still quietly. He didn't want to yell at her anymore; he just wanted her to understand.
"He'll have you for the rest of his life, Sam. He has everything, and I have nothing. I had to live through your death, and I'm going to have you taken away again, I'm sure. Is it so wrong that I want to be with you like this, if only once? I'll never have this again!" He'd stopped, his face twisting into a mask of misery, and he saw that finally their faces matched. She was still crying, letting out tiny sobs.
"You're dating him, aren't you?" She'd looked away, her misery temporarily replaced with embarrassment.
"I…not really."
"But you like each other a lot." She looked back at him, suddenly looking distraught.
"Yes." Her eyes were begging him to stop, and he looked away.
"Then what I said is true. He'll probably enjoy you for the rest of his life, and when I saw you this morning, I couldn't stop myself from taking a little of that for myself." He looked back at her, and his eyes asked for the forgiveness he could not. Her eyes begged him not to ask, though. After a moment, she looked away again, eyelashes wet with tears.
He'd realized then that nothing more could reasonably be expected of her, and that he was being a fool. A sense of gloom had quickly descended over him, and he was already beginning to feel nostalgic about their encounter. He began wondering how much time had passed; an hour perhaps? He would need to get going soon.
But he wasn't quite ready to leave, and had hugged her to him one more time, trying to memorize the feeling.
"Sam, please just give me my name. Please." It came out almost a whisper, and she had tensed under him at the request. He waited nervously for her response.
"I already have, Danny." He'd pulled back to look at her, but she was looking off to the side, eyes sadder than he could ever remember seeing them. But the acknowledgement was good enough. It had to be. It was certainly better than anything he had a right to hope for, he knew.
He'd leaned forward to kiss her one last time, and then had gotten up from the bed. He'd been tempted to use the shower, but decided the quick fix of intangibility would work until he found somewhere else to bathe. He'd wanted his last memory of this place to be of Sam. After going intangible briefly, Danny had gone about getting dressed. After finishing, he'd gone back over to the bed, and picked up Sam's hand. She had looked up to briefly meet his gaze, her tears having finally stopped. She'd looked tired and deeply sad, but the hate from earlier was mostly gone.
"Goodbye, Sam." Other words stuck in his throat. He'd almost said 'thank you', but couldn't do it. It had seemed cheap, somehow. And deep down he'd almost wanted to say 'I'm sorry'. Instead he'd just held her hand for a moment before letting go, and a moment later he'd flown up through the roof of her house. He hadn't seen her since.
Danny sighed to himself as he continued to float aimlessly through the ghost zone. Someday he wanted to make amends, as Clockwork had suggested. If that wasn't possible, then he'd at least try his best to make up for what he had done in some way.
At the very least he would tell her he was sorry someday, and promise never to hurt her again. And…if she wanted…if she wanted, he'd promise to stay out of her life completely.
Author's Note: Comments are extremely appreciated. If you've got to choose a chapter to review, make it this one:) Oh yeah, if you were thinking about saying it...I already know I'm evil. :)