Prompt from dp-marvel64: Danny comes into his bedroom to find a clone of himself, not Dani but one he's never met, asleep in his bed.
(I think you have a different name on here, but I can't remember what it is.)
.
.
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Fair
.
If he had a nickel for every time he'd seen a clone of himself in his bed, he'd have two nickels. Or three, if he counted the thing with the Ghost Catcher. Not a lot, but it was weird that it had happened so many times.
Not for the first time, Danny wondered if his life was, in fact, some kind of dying dream, and what it said about himself that his subconscious kept presenting himself with clones. In his bed.
Yeah.
Note to self: Never ask Jazz about that.
Which left him with the decision of what to do about the clone in his bed. Because, yeah. That was still a thing he had to figure out.
He eased the door closed, not wanting to either wake the clone or attract the attention of his parents.
The clone wasn't visibly injured, and there was no scent of ectoplasm... Well, no further scent of ectoplasm. Overall, Danny was pretty noseblind to the odor.
Nondescript clothing. Clothing pretty similar to Danny's. Actually, he had a shirt like that. So, either the clone had taken Danny's clothes, or had come prepared.
No obvious Vlad flags, but nothing that would immediately indicate that the clone wasn't from Vlad. Time travel was an option, too, as were shape-shifters.
Danny tilted his head. His first impulse, as always, was to help, and with the clone sleeping and vulnerable, it didn't seem likely that this was a kill-and-replace deal. Or, more likely, a kidnap-and-replace. But... He should probably give his friends and sister a heads up. Just in case. He pulled out his phone.
Hold up, was the clone not breathing?
"I told you he was cleverer than that," said a familiar voice.
Abruptly, Danny was overwhelmed with drowsiness, too intense for him to stay on his feet. His vision grayed out briefly.
When it came back, he was blinking up at a rather disturbing collection of ghosts. Clockwork. Frostbite. Nocturne. Undergrowth. Vortex.
Danny blinked, slowly, trying to process. "It was time travel, then?" he asked, fuzzily.
"I'm afraid not," said Clockwork, voice full of mirth. Frostbite bent down to pick Danny up. "Did your parents ever tell you how, in the oldest of stories, there is no distinction between ghosts and the Fair Folk?"
Danny forced himself slightly more awake and tried to squirm away. Nocturne made a gesture, as if throwing something, and lethargy slipped back into his bones. He relaxed against Frostbite's soft fur.
"Did they ever tell you how the Fair Folk would take children, exceptional and gifted children, leaving a changeling in their place? Or," and Clockwork glanced back to the bed, "a false corpse made of branches?"
"Don't," mumbled Danny.
"Don't be alarmed, Daniel," said Clockwork, kissing Danny's forehead. "You passed our tests. This is your reward."