Hello, everyone. So. I haven't been updating my fics on here because of reasons (they're lame reasons, don't worry about it) for the past six months, but I'm going to try and catch up with everything. I won't be able to do it all at once, but I'll be doing my best. To see all the chapters I've added to multichapter fics, just keep going until you don't see this message at the top of the chapter anymore. Sorry about this!
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Hunger is something Clockwork has long been acquainted with.
Oh, he had been prey himself when he was newer. Few ghosts of his age and power could claim otherwise. But those encounters had been swift and impersonal. Even Clockwork would be hard-pressed to recognize those who had consumed him, all this time later.
At that time, he had eaten his fill as well, and preferred by far the strength gained through that method. But even in his youth, he had quickly realized the dangers of potentially giving so many ghosts power over time.
(Although, unfortunately, not before there were enough of them to form the society of Observants.)
Since then, he had refrained, sustaining himself on ambient ectoplasm, and chancing the pools near the Ghost Zone's core only when his body felt truly stagnant.
So. He had grown used to it by the time he had met Daniel. So used to it, in fact, that at first he hadn't noticed the signs of Daniel's stress, hadn't realized the source. Not until he looked ahead.
Then, well. Clockwork was fond of Daniel. Very fond. He spent more subjective time with him that he had with another intelligent being for hundreds of objective years.
It was easy to let that fondness grow into something more.
Less easy, once his choice had been made, to let Daniel have a choice of his own. There had been a part of Clockwork that had wanted to chase Daniel down then and there, to give into a rather atavistic prey drive, but the more civilized portion of his psyche won out.
He was rewarded. With a very satisfying meal.
And, perhaps more importantly, with everything that came after.
So, one might think that after all that, another several months' fast wouldn't bother Clockwork. One would be quite wrong. In fact, having experienced satiety, the hunger was all the more noticeable and acute.
Or, perhaps, that was the loneliness. Empty nest syndrome, as the humans called it. After the pleasure of raising Daniel, the current quiet of his home was… disheartening.
He could call Daniel, of course. Daniel had only been devoured twice, but he had taken well to resonance, and would come obediently if Clockwork called. Unless Clockwork ate him again, however, that would be only a short-term solution, and it was far too soon in Daniel's development to do that. He refused to harm his child.
Yet, he couldn't prevent himself from thinking about it. From fantasizing about it, even. The taste, the energy, the texture, the ever-so-lovely experience of digesting , of peeling away Daniel's out envelope, exposing the core of his being.
He even spent some time thinking about the forbidden fruit, so to speak. Of tasting Daniel's core. Just a sliver. Just a fragment. Just those pesky memories that took Daniel away from him, back to his assumed responsibilities.
But Clockwork would not do that. If Daniel's memories faded on their own, wiped away by the processes of consumption and rebirth, then that was one thing. It was another to do it on purpose. Clockwork did not even know how to specifically eat memories. He knew it was possible… he could learn…
But he would not. He would simply hope that chance and nature would conspire to lift Daniel's worries, and thus his own, sooner rather than later.
(No matter how easy it would be to do otherwise.)
(No matter how he craved it.)
A thread of possibility winding through time caught his attention. He traced it back and smiled. It would seem that he did not have to call Daniel. Daniel would be coming on his own.
He surveyed the timeline, looking for flaws that would require his attention, and, finding none, he twisted time, speeding it forward until Daniel burst through the doors of Long Now.
"Clockwork!" He practically threw himself into Clockwork's arms, stopping himself only at the last minute.
Clockwork reached for him anyway. "What's wrong?" he asked, gathering him into a hug.
Danny made a sound that wasn't a sniffle - he was too mature for that at the moment - but was in the same family. "I don't know what's happening to me," he said.
"Ah," said Clockwork, drawing him towards a large, comfortable armchair. "Tell me about it." In Daniel's last two childhoods, they had developed this as something of a private ritual. Of course, during those times such conversations tended to be short, as isolated as they were.
Daniel tucked his legs up against his chest and picked up a corner of Clockwork's cloak. "I don't know where to start," he said.
"I believe that those who are constrained by a linear perception of time say it is best to start at the beginning."
He felt, rather than saw, Daniel frown. "You're teasing me."
"Only to cheer you up," said Clockwork, gently. "Come, now, you must start somewhere."
"Okay," said Danny. "A few weeks ago… I started to feel… Not hungry, exactly, but, like, you know when you get a craving?"
"I have been known to have one now and again. Specifically for a certain small, edible ghost. A very small ghost."
"I'm not that small." Danny shook his head. "I started having cravings, but I couldn't figure out what for, so I tried a bunch of stuff. Then I started… Sometimes, I go out to the Nasty Burger with my friends, you know? But what I usually get started to taste… bad. And Tucker and Sam said theirs tasted normal, and I gave Tucker mine a few times, and he said it tasted normal, but it still tasted bad to me. And it wasn't just there. Like, the school food always tastes bad, so I thought that they'd just gotten especially bad meat, but…" He huffed. "I can't eat meat anymore. At all. When I tried one last time yesterday I threw up. I've been eating vegetarian. At least Sam is happy about that," he mumbled. "I was going to see you about that, anyway, because it didn't seem like it was going to get better."
"Wise," remarked Clockwork.
"But then I also noticed…" He trailed off. "There are things growing on me. On my back. I don't know what they are. If I've got, like, some kind of disease, or if it's a parasite, or another weird ghost power, but I have no idea what kind of ghost power would do that. I told Sam and Tucker, and they said I should ask you. Well, not you you, but I told them that I'd made a friend who was helping me with my, um. Body changes."
"Can you show me?" asked Clockwork.
Daniel froze for a moment, then nodded and shuffled forward. He unzipped his suit, pulled off the top half of it, and leaned forward, revealing the pale, silver-freckled, purple-tinted curve of his back. It wasn't an entirely unbroken curve. His spine and ribs both stood out far too much for Clockwork's peace of mind… and future diet… and, of course, the outline of his death scar traced jagged patterns all over his skin. But more notably at this particular moment were the two wing buds growing from just under his shoulder blades.
"Do you know what they are?"
"Yes," said Clockwork. "You are growing wings."
Daniel twisted to look at Clockwork, incredulous. "Why? I can already fly."
"These wings have a different purpose." Clockwork touched one bud delicately, and then started massaging the base. Daniel immediately went limp. "The fast growth has been causing some tension, I see."
"Mhm," said Danny. "But what, mm, purpose? Is it connected to the meat thing?"
"It is," said Clockwork. "You are aware that ghosts grow in potential when they are consumed."
"Mhm, you told me."
"Some ghosts who are under pressure to increase in potential - for example, ghosts who are protecting large territories - or even ghosts who are simply under a lot of stress, will develop strategies to be consumed more often, or more efficiently. They specialize, losing the inclination to eat other ghosts, instead subsisting on plants or ambient ectoplasm. I believe that particular change was transferred to your human half as an inability to digest meat."
"Aw, man, that sucks," said Daniel.
"Do you want to eat meat?"
Daniel gagged audibly. "Not now, but I remember I–" He gagged again. "Don't make me remember that, actually. What about the wings?"
"You are aware that many plants spread their seeds by convincing birds and other animals to eat them, that when they are ripe, many fruits and berries take on bright, attractive colors."
"Sure," said Danny.
"And you know about photosynthesis."
"Yeah."
"And filter feeders, such as clams."
"I… don't know where you're going with this."
"For ghosts, wings fulfill those roles," said Clockwork. "When they first bloom, they are drab, similar in color to the Zone background, but allow the ghost who has them to absorb ectoplasm from their surroundings much more rapidly than before, using mechanisms similar to photosynthesis and filter feeding. Then, when the ghost is at the point where they are completely ready to be eaten, the wings become highly colorful. Eye catching. Appetizing."
"Like those slugs with parasites that make them get eaten by birds," said Daniel.
Clockwork sighed fondly. "I was attempting to avoid comparing you to such things, but yes."
Daniel reached over his shoulder to rub gingerly at the bud Clockwork was not giving attention to. "Any other changes I should know about?"
"On occasion, the changes to the ghost upon their, ah, maturity are not limited to their wings. The changes might extend to their skin, their odor, the sounds they make." Clockwork moved to massage Daniel's other forming wing. "Ghosts who are preyed upon by a specific ghost or group of ghosts may develop traits that those particular ghosts find appetizing."
"Mm," said Daniel, shifting to lean his forehead against Clockwork's knee. "Clockwork?"
"Yes?"
"What do you find appetizing?"
Well, Clockwork hadn't had much of an opportunity to explore his palette - human foods hardly counted - but there were certainly things he found aesthetically pleasing which were within Danny's capabilities. "Oh, a few things."