Time stopped for no man, or so they said. Clockwork knew better. He was styled Master of Time, but he often felt more like its repairman. A mechanic, perhaps. Or a janitor. Always putting things back together, cleaning things up, or patching holes. It was why he resented the Observants and their demands that always resulted in more holes and more work.

The fabric of time was a fraying patchwork quilt, and it was Clockwork's eternal task to keep one stitch from turning into nine.

But he was very good at it. He'd had a lot of practice. The last time he missed a stitch was... Well, it was, of course, difficult to say how long ago it was, but the effects of the mistake had long since passed from living memory.

At least, that was what Clockwork had thought. Seeing common time grind to a halt around him... Maybe not.

The Observants would be arriving to complain soon, doubtless, assuming this hadn't affected their own special temporal matrices. None of them understood the effort it took to keep time ticking over.

But regardless of the fact that time was standing still, he shouldn't stand around wasting it. He screens flicked to static, then started scanning for movement. Observants, another Observants, more Observants, Observants on the way to bother Clockwork, Clockwork himself, more Observants, Observants again...

Then, something different. A room he wasn't terribly familiar with, but an occupant he was.

Daniel Fenton, also known as Phantom, rolled over in his sleep pulling his blanket over his head. Clockwork frowned.

There were reasons Daniel Fenton could still be moving. His timeline could have been anchored to that of Clockwork's tower inadvertently. A portion of the medallion his older temporal counterpart phased into him may have broken off, giving him his own, small temporal field. Resonance with that older self, currently preserved in Clockwork's tower, might have transferred a small measure of temporal stability to Daniel.

Daniel could have developed his own temporal problems.

Except for that last, Clockwork could have easily removed the problem. Except for that last, it would not have caused time to stop.

He rewound the image. Daniel's alarm clock going off. A muttered five more minutes. A spark of light, of power. Time going away.

Goodness. No, Clockwork wouldn't be able to fix this. Perhaps it would be better to say it was not broken.

Best to take care of this before the Observants stuck their noses in, regardless. He stepped through the screen, into Daniel's room.

A thin stream of mist issued from the boy's mouth, and he startled, jumping into a fighting position on top of his bed. His eyes were wide and bright, but even Clockwork, as removed as he was from human existence, could see how pale he was, how dark the shadows were under his eyes.

The child was exhausted.

"Oh, god," said Danny. "Don't tell me he's gotten out."

"No," said Clockwork. "This is about a different matter."

Danny sank down, leaning against his headboard for support, looking relieved, but suspicious. "What is it, then?" he asked. "Not, I don't know, a different murderous time traveling version of me?" He grinned weakly.

"No." Clockwork became aware that he was looming over Daniel rather threateningly. He changed to his smaller, younger-appearing form and put his hand on Daniel's forehead.

"Uh, Clockwork?"

"This will only take a moment, Daniel."

Here, in person, it was easy to overpower Daniel's grip on time, delicately pulling his mental fingers back. Daniel breathed slowly, dazed.

This was not, Clockwork could see, going to be a one-time occurrence. He had never considered having a child before, but allowing this to go unchecked wasn't an option, to let the Observants handle this in any way would bring about abomination, and he admitted to some fondness for the boy.

He did not want to have to kill him, just to keep the clocks ticking.

So.

He reached in, to Daniel, and attached a slender tether to his core.

"What?" he said.

"Go back to sleep, Daniel," he said, "you can have that extra five minutes."