Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Why did the ghost attacks had to happen when Team Phantom was already busy? It wasn’t like they had no other things to do. Talk about unfair.

At least the fight was over now, even if it took far longer than the trio of friends expected.

“Box Ghost and Lunch Lady?” Tucker asked incredulously, as Sam shook the thermos with the trapped ghosts. “Since when do they team up? And did they have to trash the Nasty Burger? I need my junk food!”

“I think they were on a date,” Danny replied, sounding equally incredulous and disturbed.

“Yikes,” the goth and the geek chorused.

“Actually, it’s more of an ‘ew’,” Danny said, trying to wipe various condiments from his jumpsuit. Honestly, couldn’t they wait until after the C.A.T. to hook up? Oh, duh! He had ghost powers! Danny turned intangible, the sauce stains splattering on the ground.

Along with a packet.

Danny picked it up and gasped, “Oh my gosh, the answers to the C.A.T.!”

“So, you really are going to cheat?” Sam asked and crossed her arms. “I thought you were better than that, Danny.”

“It’s not like I spent the last month playing video games!” Danny retorted. “I was hunting ghosts! I didn’t sleep for days and I still didn’t get enough time to study!”

Sam opened her mouth, ready to start an angry tirade, but paused and simply looked at her friend. Danny looked beyond exhausted, his eyes bloodshot and his skin nearly grey.

He made it look so simple – it was easy to forget how much the ghost fights took out of him.

“C’mon, man!” Tucker said. “It’s just a stupid test. You don’t need to cheat to pass it!”

“Well, I’m not smart like you, Tuck,” Danny replied tiredly. “And Lancer was pretty clear about how important it is.”

Sam rolled her eyes, “Lancer always says stuff like that. He’s dramatic.”

“If you think this test is so meaningless,” Danny snapped, “why do you even care if I cheat?” He held up the still closed packet, “Why shouldn't I open this up and study the answers, huh?”

Sam sighed. He did have a point. She didn’t want to condone cheating, but Danny was her friend and it was ultimately his decision. “Danny, listen,” she said. “How about you get some sleep and decide what to do in the morning? You are too tired to study and you are not thinking clearly.”

“You sound like Jazz,” Danny muttered. His shoulders slumped, “But I guess you are right.”

Tucker gave him a thumbs up, “Get some rest, man. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jazz ruffled through the fridge in search of breakfast, trying to remember which food was safe to eat and which would try to eat her, when her brother shuffled down the stairs looking half-asleep.

He was so not a morning person.

“Hey, Danny,” she greeted. “Ready for the big test?”

He yawned, “Not really. I didn’t get much time to study-”

‘Because of the ghost fighting,’ Jazz added to herself.

“-But I’m not completely stupid, so I guess I’ll be ok?”

Jazz sighed in relief. She knew that he had the answers to the test, but apparently, he decided not to cheat. Good.

“Of course you will, dear!” Maddie piped up, peeking into the kitchen. “All Fentons get A’s! …Or at least solid B minuses. Especially on a test that will determine your future!”

Jazz saw her brother’s eye start to twitch and fought an urge to facepalm, ‘Thanks a lot, mom. Now he is definitely going to cheat.’

The trio of ghost boy, goth girl and techno-geek didn’t even reach the doors of Casper High after the Career Aptitude Test was over, when Danny suddenly stopped, turned around, and headed back into the classroom.

Tucker and Sam exchanged confused glances. What was that all about?

“Did you forget something?” Tucker asked.

Danny shook his head, “No, I just need to talk to Lancer. Can you wait for me?”

“Sure, we’ll be here,” Tucker replied.

They didn’t have to wait long – Danny returned only a few minutes later.

“Care to share?” Sam asked and Danny gave her a tired smile, “I told Lancer that I cheated and gave the answers back. He said I could take a make-up test next week, but he’s still going to tell my parents. He called a meeting this evening.”

Tucker groaned, “Why did you do this, man? You either don’t cheat at all or you cheat and stay quiet!”

Sam stomped on his foot, “What Tucker is trying to say, you did the right thing. Want us to come with you for moral support?”

Danny nodded and smiled. His friends were the best.

Sam was right, Lancer was dramatic. Why else would he call their meeting near the half-demolished Nasty Burger?

Of course, Danny quickly stopped trying to decipher his teacher’s thought process once the story came out. His parents… well, he didn’t know how he expected them to react, but Jack and Maddie made a long, rambling speech, interrupting each other with every sentence and alternating between chiding Danny for cheating, apologizing for putting too much pressure on him and heaping more and more chores on him as punishment.

Judging from Lancer’s incredulous expression, he was solely regretting gathering a meeting instead of simply calling on the phone.

The Fentons had that effect on people.

Finally, Jazz decided that enough was enough and began herding her family to the Fenton RV, only pausing enough to whisper, “We all make mistakes, Danny. I’m glad you fixed yours.”

Danny didn’t reply.

He didn’t have the time.

…What happened?

Mom? Dad? Are you-?

No…

No, no, no!

…Jazz?

Somebody, help!

Sam?! Tucker?!

No, please, no…

…Mr. Lancer?

…Anyone…?

…Please…

…Help…

Chapter Text

If he was stronger, he would have beaten the ghosts before they caused too much destruction.

If he was faster, he would have saved everyone from the explosion.

If he was smarter (if he was a better person), he wouldn’t have cheated.

But he wasn’t.

And now he was all alone.

He still didn’t trust Vlad (how could he, after all the crimes that man committed?), Aunt Alicia didn’t care about him in the slightest (she only came for the funeral and then simply left), and Valerie still wanted to kill him (he feared that if they ever met as enemies, he would let her).

It wasn’t fair.

His parents didn’t deserve this.

His sister didn’t deserve this.

His friends didn’t deserve this.

His teacher didn’t deserve this.

It wasn’t fair.

The Foleys didn’t deserve this – they loved their son so much, why did they have to bury him?

The Mansons didn’t deserve this – they loved their daughter even if they didn’t understand her, why did they have to lose her?

Mr. Lancer… did he have a family? Friends? They didn’t deserve this either.

So why? Why, why, why did good people have to suffer?

Because the world wasn’t fair.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

Even getting out of bed was a chore, but Vlad Masters had to keep it together for Daniel’s sake.

Funny. Jack was dead, he got his revenge, even if it wasn’t by his hand, but what did it matter anymore when dear Maddie was gone?

And Daniel… the boy was his charge now, but what was Vlad supposed to do? How could he help?

…Was it even possible for the boy to pick up the shards of his life? Or would he one day find Daniel lying in a pool of his own blood?

Vlad squeezed his eyes shut, banishing the horrible image from his mind. No, it wouldn’t come to this. What happened was a tragedy, but Daniel was still young, he had his whole life ahead.

He would get better.

He had to.

Vlad had nothing to live for otherwise.

The threads of time stretched out into eternity, tangled and intertwined into an infinite web of possibilities. Few could look at the tapestry in all its complexity and not shatter under the weight of knowledge and even fewer could affect it.

Those who did were likened to gods.

Clockwork didn’t feel particularly godly as he traced the points of one particular timeline.

So many things had to fall in a row for it to happen – take any one out, and the timeline would simply merge with the others: the ones where Box Ghost and Lunch Lady didn’t damage the Nasty Burger or where proper precautions were taken to secure the explosives inside; the ones where Danny didn’t cheat or where he confessed before the test, not after it; the ones where Mr. Lancer chose to call the Fentons instead of gathering a meeting or picked a different place; the ones where everyone left the ruins just slightly earlier…

All those timelines wouldn’t differ for long, fusing back into a single future.

In that future Danny Phantom would keep fighting malicious ghosts with his friends and sister’s support, Vlad Masters would keep plotting the demise of his former friend, and Jack and Maddie Fenton would keep creating new inventions.

In that future the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep would be opened and Pariah Dark would be free. Danny Phantom would join forces with his enemies, steal the Ecto-Skeleton, and force the Ghost King back into the enchanted coffin, where he would be imprisoned once more.

And when years later the Sarcophagus shattered, no longer able to contain the King of All Ghosts, Danny would have enough power and allies with the brilliance of his parents at his side to defeat Pariah Dark once and for all.

But that wasn’t the timeline Clockwork was looking at.

In this timeline the explosion claimed six lives and irreparably damaged many more.

In this timeline Danny Fenton lost the will to live and took his own life, leaving Vlad Masters with nothing to live for either.

In this timeline when Pariah Dark broke free, there was no one left to oppose him.

Oh, many had tried – the Red Huntress, various government agencies, other ghosts – but it was all for naught. And the two worlds suffered under the tyrannical rule of the Ghost King for the rest of eternity.

And yet, as long as sentient life remained there, Clockwork wasn’t allowed to destroy that timeline… even if the inhabitants would have rather preferred oblivion.

He couldn’t even interfere directly – the Observants would never allow this.

Fortunately, he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

“Time out!” he proclaimed, hitting the button on top of his scepter with slightly more force than necessary. The blue wave spread, faster and faster, swallowing the entire world… including his employers. After all, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

The ghost of time teleported away, reappearing within a giant mansion, more specifically, a library where one Vlad Masters was picking up books that he hoped would interest his young charge if only for a few minutes. Clockwork grabbed another book from a shelf, pausing briefly as his mind explored the possibilities it could open, then simply added it to the stack, knowing full well that no one would be able to tell he had anything to do with this.

It was hard to believe that an action so small could have such far reaching consequences, but the butterfly fluttered its wings, and the hurricane was created.

“Time in!”

Chapter Text

Danny stared at the books piled on his table. Vlad tried so hard to cheer him up – video games, movies, travels to anywhere he wanted – but nothing interested him anymore. Everything felt so empty that often Danny found himself lying unmoving in his bed, day in and day out.

Still, Vlad tried… so maybe he should try too?

He got up with effort and grabbed a book from the top of the pile, opening it somewhere in the middle and flicking through several pages. It seemed to be an encyclopedia of sorts, except written about the Ghost Zone rather than the Human World.

Danny turned the pages, skimming through the names and titles of what seemed to be rather old and powerful ghosts he never met: Nocturne, the Dream Lord; Pandora, the Guardian; Pariah Dark, the King of All Ghosts…

Clockwork, the Master of Time.

Danny almost didn’t recognize the feeling that forced him to sneak out of his room and down into the lab where the Ghost Portal was.

Hope.

He didn’t think he would ever feel it again.

The chance was slim, he knew it, and that was if the book was even accurate, but Danny had to take it.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself otherwise.

Returning to the Ghost Zone felt strange after so long, and Danny hovered uncertainly, without any idea where to begin his search, but he had to do something. He picked a direction at random, flying through the green nothingness.

Danny paused when a familiar sound reached his ears and looked around, noticing a motorcycle speeding in the distance. Apparently, the ghost had noticed him too, changing direction and racing towards him.

Johnny 13 pulled a sharp turn and stopped, raising his hand in greeting, “Hey, kid.”

Danny frowned, “Do you want a fight, Johnny?” He would really rather not.

The ghost shook his head, “No, no! I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, “I heard what happened and- Damn, I’m no good with words but I’m really sorry you had to go through this.”

Danny looked away, “Yeah, me too…”

“Anyway!” the ghost continued. “I know we were enemies and all that, but if you need to talk or something-” he trailed off uncertainly.

For the first time in weeks a tiny smile found its way on Danny’s face, “Thank you.” He offered his hand, “Friends? Or at least ‘not enemies’?”

Johnny shook his hand, “Not enemies.”

Danny froze suddenly, “Johnny? Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Have you ever heard of someone named ‘Clockwork’?”

The ghost laughed, “Who hasn’t heard of him?”

“Really? Can you tell me something about him? Anything?!”

Johnny shrugged, “I know as much as the next guy. He’s the Master of Time and he’s supposed to be really powerful, but if anyone ever met him, they sure ain’t talking.”

“Oh… Is there someone who could know more?” Danny asked.

Johnny thought for a moment, “You could try asking the Ghost Writer. He collects old books, so he might know something.”

“Where can I find him?”

Johnny gave him the approximate directions to the Ghost Writer’s lair and added, “He’s an okay guy, kinda nerdy. Just be polite and don’t damage his books.”

“Thank you, Johnny!” Danny yelled as he flew away, the embers of hope burning brighter in his soul.

The Ghost Writer turned out to be friendly enough, if not particularly enthusiastic.

“It’s a fool’s errand,” he said. “Yes, I’m sure that somewhere in my library there is a book containing the information you need, but do you honestly think that even if you manage to find the Master of Time, he will agree to help you for no reason?”

“Like you are helping me now?” Danny asked, another pale smile gracing his face.

“Don’t get cheeky, I can still kick you out,” the ghost grumbled then sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “You have to understand, that even if by some miracle you convince him to help you, he might not be able to do what you want. After all, reality warping powers always come with restrictions. Take me for example: I can turn my writings into reality, but only for a very limited time. Desiree has similar problems with the wishes she grants. True, neither of us is as powerful as Clockwork is rumored to be, but you can’t help but wonder what rules he has to obey.”

Danny bit his lip, not letting the disappointment stifle the fragile light of his newfound hope, “I know, but I have to try. I’ll never forgive myself if I lose this chance.”

The Ghost Writer threw his hands in the air, “Fine, do whatever you want! But if you lose the remaining half of your life, I’m reserving the right to say ‘I told you so’.”

Vlad wasn’t particularly happy at his trip into the Ghost Zone, especially when Danny evaded the questions about what he was actually doing there, but he let it slide. It was the first time since the accident that Danny regained some semblance of his former self and Vlad didn’t have the heart to put a stop to it.

And so Danny spent his every waking moment in the Ghost Writer’s library, searching through the dusty tomes for any mention of Clockwork. The search was slow and mostly fruitless, the scattered fragments he found revealing the same information over and over again, but Danny couldn’t stop.

He had to do this, he simply had to.

Chapter Text

Danny could hardly believe his eyes. A map, an actual map! Yes, it was ancient and far from precise, but it was real, and even if it took him hours of flying through strange doors and forgotten lands, he found the place he needed – the legendary Clock Tower, home to the elusive Master of Time.

Heart beating in trepidation, he floated closer to the ominous building. The door opened before he knocked – and if that wasn’t an invitation, Danny didn’t know what was. He floated through the dimly lit corridors filled with massive interlocking gears and rhythmic ticking noise and into a large room, a round screen inside it flicking between different places and different times.

There was a ghost watching the screen, a staff in one hand and a purple hooded cloak concealing his form. “Danny Phantom,” he said evenly and turned around.

Danny gasped slightly at the sight. The ghost had blue skin and blood-red eyes and a dark jagged scar carved into his cheek.

It really was him, the Master of Time.

“I’d ask what brings you here,” Clockwork continued. “But I already know, for I know everything. You want me to save your friends and family.”

“Please,” Danny whispered. “I need your help. You are the only one who could do this.”

“And why should I help you?” Clockwork asked coldly. “You are not the first person to lose their family, nor would you be the last. Why do you consider yourself so special? Why is your grief more important than anyone else’s?”

Danny felt tears prickle his eyes at the ghost’s callous tone, “Then what do you want? Please, I’ll do anything!”

“…Anything, you say?” Clockwork drawled inches away from him and Danny flinched back. How did he manage to get this close so fast? And… was there something around his neck?

Danny looked down at the strange gear-shaped medallion that appeared seemingly out of nowhere and reached to remove it, but Clockwork grabbed his wrist, “Now, now, don’t be so hasty. We don’t want anyone to overhear us.” The ghost rubbed the smooth surface of the medallion between his fingers, “This will give us some much needed privacy.”

Danny squirmed, uncomfortable with how close the ghost was to him. He looked away, trying to get his nerves under control, when he noticed that the movement of the massive gears had stopped. The constant ticking noise had also disappeared and the air had a faint blue tinge to it.

“…What did you do?” he asked with trepidation.

Clockwork shrugged, “Like I said – privacy. Now, about that ‘anything’ proposition of yours…” The ghost disappeared between one moment and the next, reappearing behind Danny’s back, arms wrapped around his waist, and whispered into his ear, “I do have a few things in mind.”

Danny screamed and flailed wildly to the Time Master’s amusement, forgetting that he could go intangible. Thankfully, Clockwork let him go and floated to the screen. He gestured with his scepter and the image changed to a dark foreboding castle.

“Pariah’s Keep,” the ghost said. “What used to be a fortress for the King of All Ghosts and now contains his prison – the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”

The image changed again, showing a large coffin atop a staircase.

“Several years from now,” Clockwork continued, “Pariah Dark will break free and lead his army to conquer both the Ghost Zone and the Human World.”

Danny watched transfixed as on the screen the coffin shattered and the monster walked free. He watched as the skeletal hordes marched through the streets of human and ghost cities, slaughtering everyone in their way. He watched as buildings burned and lairs crumbled, as living and undead alike stood shoulder to shoulder against the King of All Ghosts, only to fall before his might. He watched as the survivors were captured and chained and tortured, years of slavery turning to decades, to centuries, to millennia, endless nightmare of blood and pain…

When would it stop?!

“It won’t,” Clockwork said. “If Pariah wins, he will rule until the stars turn to dust. Which is why I want you to prevent this from ever happening.”

“How?! How am I supposed to do this if no one in the world could stop him?!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Clockwork smirked, once again disappearing from sight to reappear behind Danny’s back. “In the hands of a good player any pawn can become a queen.”

Danny trembled as the Time Lord whispered into his ear, poisonously sweet, “It’s not a hard bargain, is it? You will save the world from a fate worse than death and I will bring your friends and family back. Everybody will get what they want.”

“…Then what’s the catch?” Danny asked because there was always a catch and Clockwork laughed in response, dark and malicious.

“Power always comes with a price and for this you will have to pay with your soul.”

Danny hated how much his voice shook when he said, “I thought your name was Clockwork, not Satan.”

“Oh, I don’t mean some esoteric contract,” the Master of Time said dismissively. “I mean the crimes you will have to commit, things so vile, that even in the lawless lands they had been taboo for millennia. And you will do them, because that is the only way you will ever see your family again and I have already shown you the alternative.”

His voice once more dropped into a whisper and Clockwork calmly described what had to be done, his quiet words painting the visions of hell.

Danny thrashed in his grasp, horrified beyond belief, and rapidly shook his head, “No, no, no! I’ll never do this! Never!”

The Time Lord tightened his grip and purred, smug and condescending, “Of course you will. It’s only a matter of time.”

Chapter Text

It hurt, hurt, hurt! Worse than any weapon or ecto-blast, worse even than the accident that half-killed him!

Mouth open in a silent scream, he grabbed the source of his agony and pulled it out of his chest. As his sight cleared, he could see the startled face of Vlad Masters, half-covered by a surgical mask.

He twisted around and stared at his unconscious human self.

It worked then. Good.

Before Vlad could get over his shock, Phantom gripped the Ghost Gauntlets, yanked them away and quickly put them on. A second to concentrate – and he buried the metal claws into the body of his former enemy, ripping him in half.

Phantom didn’t know whether he managed to split him the right way but there was no time to hesitate. He flew into Plasmius, willing to overshadow him, and-

There was nothing to overshadow. The ghost was an empty shell without mind or memories, and Phantom easily claimed that power for himself. He could feel his body warping, liquid fire spreading beneath his skin. Almost splitting it apart. His hair ignited into white flames – only a pale imitation of the supernova trying to burst out of his body – and he screamed, hovering in the air as waves of destructive energy radiated from his form.

Finally, it was over, and he fell down.

“…Phantom?”

He jerked up and stared into the blue eyes of his human self.

“Danny.” The name tasted awkward on his tongue. He stood up and glanced around, taking note of the ruined lab, his gaze sliding without pause over the fully human form of Vlad, crumpled in the corner. Was he still alive? Phantom didn’t care enough to check. He got what he needed from the man already.

“Did it work?” Danny asked, his expression flickering between guilt, sorrow, and hope.

Phantom tilted his head, analyzing his new existence. It didn’t feel the same as their experience with the Ghost Catcher. Intent was everything, and this time their goal was much different from a ghost-free weekend of fun with their friends.

Their friends.

The memory of Sam and Tucker brought no pain. No happiness either. Mom, dad, Jazz – he could remember them all, clear as a day, but the memories simply existed in his mind, devoid of any emotion.

…No, not quite. Even though his memories felt empty and hollow, the images of his friends and family burned with unrivalled intensity. They were his purpose, and he would do anything to get them back.

Phantom felt his lips stretch into a smile, some pale remnant of emotion coiling in his chest as he stared at his other half, “Yes. All according to the plan.”

Danny smiled too, though his was far more gentle, his shoulders slumping in relief, “I’m glad…” His smile wavered when he saw the still unconscious Vlad, “Is he…?”

“Why should it matter whether he is alive or dead?” Phantom asked without pity. “We got what we wanted.”

“I’m sorry…” Danny whispered, his voice breaking and tears sliding down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry…”

Phantom wavered uncertainly, not knowing what to do, when Danny pulled him into a desperate hug, still whispering the litany of apologies.

“Why are you apologizing?” Phantom asked, awkwardly hugging him back. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything, yet seeing his human half so distraught was… uncomfortable. How odd.

“…How can I not?” Danny whispered. “The things you’ll have to do…”

“We made our decision,” Phantom said. He put his hands on the sides of Danny’s face and pressed their foreheads together, “I will bring our family back, no matter what. I promise.”

Danny gave him a shaky smile, “I know you will. I believe in you. I’m just sorry that you have to exist like this.”

“It’s what I was created for,” Phantom replied. “Just like we planned. There is no going back.”

Danny sighed and something in his expression eased, as if some terrible burden was lifted from his shoulders, “No, there isn’t.” He leaned back and let his arms fall to his sides, looking into Phantom’s red eyes without hesitation, “It’s time for the next step in our plan.”

The ghost nodded in agreement. Danny was his other half, his humanity, his weakness. But for their plan to succeed, Phantom couldn’t afford vulnerability.

But most of all… he remembered how much it hurt to have their whole world shatter into pieces.

The least he could do for his human self was to end his pain.

Phantom tugged him into another embrace, gently stroking his back, and rested his chin on the human’s shoulder. Danny clutched him back, his black hair tangling with white flames.

Neither could tell how much time had passed, but ever so slowly Danny relaxed, his grip slackening and his eyes closing.

It was time.

With a translucent shimmer, intangibility covered Phantom’s right hand. He dipped his fingertips into Danny’s back and the human shivered slightly from the ghostly chill, though he didn’t move away.

He was more than ready.

Phantom pushed his hand deeper, until his fingers brushed the heart. It felt so warm, so alive, that for a moment he hesitated, something inside him protesting at the thought of ending this life.

Danny sighed, his voice so quiet, it was almost impossible to hear, “…Please.”

And in a split-second move Phantom turned his heart intangible and tore it out.

Danny shuddered, his body seizing up – and then it slackened, falling utterly still. Phantom held him close for a moment and then carefully laid him down.

He didn’t look dead, as if he was merely sleeping with a sad smile on his face.

Phantom felt a twinge of something that might have been guilt or sorrow if he was still capable of feeling it. He stared at the bloodied heart and called fire to his hand, burning it to ashes.

He looked away and noticed Vlad, now awake and staring at him in horror. Phantom bared his fangs at the man, “Stay away from me and don’t try to interfere or I will kill you.”

With that last warning, he tore through the roof, flying away from the place he never learnt to call home.

He didn’t look back.

Chapter Text

The Ghost Writer was getting a little worried, even if he didn’t want to admit it. The last time he had seen Danny, the halfa found something that might lead him to Clockwork, but he hadn’t appeared since. What could’ve happened to him?

His doorbell rang suddenly, and the Ghost Writer hurried to open the door. Was it Danny…?

…It was.

And it wasn’t.

It sure looked like him – same features, same clothes – but the Danny he knew didn’t have blue skin or red eyes, his ears weren’t pointed and his hair wasn’t on fire.

“May I come in?” he asked, and the voice was all Danny, even if the fangs and forked tongue weren’t.

“What happened to you?” the Ghost Writer asked, stepping aside. He knew, of course, that ghosts were capable of changing their form, sometimes drastically, when they hit a certain threshold of power, but he didn’t think it applied to halfas as well.

“I got more powerful,” Danny replied. “I didn’t expect it either.”

The ghost closed the door and smiled at his guest, “Well, getting more powerful is good, isn’t it?”

The Ghost Writer led him down the corridor into the library, not that Danny needed to be shown the way, considering how many times he had been there already.

“It is,” Danny replied, lagging behind him. “And I will become even more powerful.”

There was something strange about the way Danny said those words, but the Ghost Writer didn’t have the time to realize it when something hit him in the back. He felt the impact more than the pain…

And then he felt nothing at all.

Phantom pulled his hand out of Ghost Writer’s ribcage and looked at the brightly glowing core in his grasp. The ghost’s body stayed solid for barely a second and then melted into ectoplasm with nothing to sustain its form.

And with nothing to shield it, the core began to dim.

No time to waste then.

Phantom shoved the core into his mouth and forced himself to swallow it, the taste making him nauseous. It felt like hot coals going down his throat, the burn nearly painful, and Phantom shuddered when he felt it slowly dissolve in his stomach, its power spreading through his body.

One down, more to go.

Desiree fell quickly, unable to put up much of a fight with no wishes to grant, and Phantom tore out her core as well. He quickly swallowed it, adding her energy to his own, and began plotting his next step.

Plasmius gave him enough of a power boost that the majority of the Ghost Zone was well beneath him in strength. And with Desiree and Ghost Writer, whose reality warping powers were capable of rendering his advantage useless, out of the picture, few could pose a threat to him.

Still, that only accounted for one-on-one fights. If the ghosts teamed up, he would be in trouble. That meant he had to quickly and quietly eliminate the strongest, preferably without leaving any witnesses before the news spread and his enemies banded together.

…So who should he start with?

Low and mid-level ghosts were disappearing and no one knew why.

Ember fidgeted slightly, her fingertips hovering above the strings of her guitar. The rumors made her uneasy. After all, she was a mid-level ghost too.

The rock star scowled and shook her head, letting anger wash away her fear. She wasn’t going to sit in her lair, jumping at shadows! She had a date, dammit!

She still couldn’t hide a flinch when a somewhat familiar voice called her name. Ember scowled, starting to turn around, “What-”

She choked as a hand blazing with green ecto-energy clamped around her throat, rendering her unable to speak or even scream at the burning pain.

She hit the strings of her guitar, directionless sound waves slamming into both herself and her attacker, the impact stunning him enough to release her. She quickly turned around, hands flying to her injured throat, and stared in disbelief at her assailant.

No… it couldn’t be him… could it?

Phantom flicked out his forked tongue, tasting the air in contemplative silence. He didn’t expect Ember to fight back, so what went wrong?

Ember stared at him in shock but then something in her expression hardened and she sent another blast of sound at him. Phantom dodged, realizing his mistake. The injury to her throat would have been lethal for a human but ghosts didn’t need to breathe, so while painful, it wasn’t as debilitating as he thought.

He really should have taken it into account.

Phantom flew forward, getting closer and charging an ecto-blast in his hands. Unable to evade fast enough, Ember had to block the blast with her guitar, the force of the blow pushing her back. Phantom seized the opportunity to get even closer and wrapped a solid length of ecto-rope around her wrists, tearing the guitar from her grasp.

Ember glared at him, angry and terrified, and lit up an ecto-blast in her bound hands. Phantom simply electrocuted her and drew ecto-energy around his hands, preparing to rip out her core, when something slammed into him, knocking him away, and a glowing net snapped around him.

…Skulker? How odd.

Phantom strained against the durable net, noting the angry expression of the robotic ghost and the unusual lack of banter. Was there some emotional involvement between the two? It was rather hard to tell. The difficulty at discerning the feelings of others was an unwelcome side-effect of removing his humanity and a blind spot he had to be aware of.

The hunter turned to Ember, getting even angrier at the sight of her wounded throat, and extended a blade from his wrist, glaring at Phantom. “I’m going to skin you alive and enjoy every second of it,” he promised darkly.

Phantom didn’t bother to reply. His hair flared wildly as he called upon his fire powers and the threads binding him began to melt.

“Don’t!” Ember rasped. “Just get us away from him!”

Skulker hesitated for a second but obeyed, extending his wings and flying away with Ember in his arms.

Phantom tore the net open but didn’t try to pursue the retreating ghosts – there was no point. Skulker was surprisingly fast and he knew the Ghost Zone well.

Soon, the news would spread and everyone would know that he was the one who destroyed so many ghosts. It was bound to happen – Phantom was by no means perfect and sooner or later someone had to escape his grasp.

He glanced at the guitar floating where he ripped it from Ember’s hands and picked it up with something that might have been curiosity if he was still capable of feeling it. There was some sort of energy within the object, thrumming like a ghost’s core. Could he absorb it too…?

Phantom tightened his grip and the guitar shattered in his hands. The glowing splinters dimmed, releasing their energy, but it dissipated before Phantom could grab it.

Hmm. Promising, though he would need to practice.

But that could wait. Right now he had a small window of time before Skulker and Ember warned anyone, so he should use it to his advantage. Since he was ousted anyway, there was no point in slowly creeping through the shadows. It was time for an all-out assault.

He should pay Walker a visit.

Chapter Text

Hunting weak ghosts was becoming less and less effective. They hid from him, requiring far too much time to catch, and the energy of their cores was but a drop in the ocean. High-level ghosts were harder to kill if much more rewarding but they refused to fight him, their lairs hidden behind the defenses he struggled to break through.

He was running out of time and he needed another strategy.

Well then, if he couldn’t get stronger, he had to weaken the enemy.

The first half of that plan was already underway, ever since he learnt how to create portals. He carried out multiple attacks across the Human World, casting a spotlight on the existence of ghosts so that the humans could prepare for the oncoming war. He couldn’t accurately track their progress, but the world’s militaries were mobilizing and sporting quite an amount of new tech. Several cities, including Amity that became a leading center for ghost research, were surrounded by ghost shields.

Humans should be able to distract and perhaps even weaken Pariah. And if by some miracle they managed to defeat him, Phantom certainly wasn’t going to complain.

But there was still something he could do.

Searching through the dusty books in the Ghost Writer’s former lair wasn’t an unfamiliar task and it didn’t take long for Phantom to find the necessary information.

The location of the Skeleton Key.

Oddly enough, the place had no guards, unless one counted the ever-present crows, though Phantom didn’t particularly care, grabbing the key and leaving quickly. He twirled it between his fingers as he entered Pariah’s Keep, flying through the dark corridors and up the long stairs to the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. The coffin was still closed but a long crack running down its side reminded him that time was an issue.

He turned away and looked at the two skeletons at the base of the stairs holding two treasures. What he needed to do was to deprive Pariah of as many advantages as possible.

Phantom floated down and used the key to open the lock over the Ring of Rage. Of course, he didn’t put it on. It was an artifact created by Pariah Dark personally and it would respond only to him.

Fortunately, Phantom had gained a bit of experience in breaking artifacts.

He flew away from the Keep, just in case (the chance of damaging the Sarcophagus was far too high for his taste), and called lightning to his hands. He kept the ring in his grasp, steadily increasing the charge coursing through it.

The Ring of Rage flared in response, the ancient artifact fighting back, but Phantom was stronger, and eventually it began to crack.

Phantom bit into the ring, shoving one of his fangs through the crack, and inhaled deeply, sucking in the freed energy. He nearly choked on the amount of power contained within but he ignored the burning pain and kept draining the artifact until it was nothing but dust.

His hair flared brighter and his core pulsed stronger as the energy settled inside him. Then Phantom turned around and headed back to the Keep.

He circled around the second skeleton, holding a purple pumpkin with a sword stuck in it. From what he remembered, removing the sword would summon the Fright Knight. So what should he do first? Summon the ghost and tear out his core or destroy the sword?

For that matter, could he destroy the sword without unsealing the ghost? He tried to recall the memory from when he was still whole, but Phantom simply didn’t know enough about this particular ghost to tell whether it was the sword itself or the act of its removal that freed the Fright Knight.

Oh well, it didn’t particularly matter.

Phantom carried the two objects outside the Keep, gnawing on the hilt of the sword, but his fangs slid off without leaving a single scratch. He gave the weapon an experimental jolt of electricity, noting the way it traveled down the blade, causing the pumpkin to smoke slightly. Then he clamped both hands around the sword, increasing the charge yet trying to keep it contained.

It didn’t take long for the sword to crack, and Phantom absorbed its energy, causing the green metal to crumble. He waited for a few seconds, allowing the energy to settle inside him, then blasted the pumpkin into smithereens, waiting for the Fright Knight to appear.

Minutes passed one after another yet nothing happened. So destroying the sword was enough to neutralize the Fright Knight? This wasn’t what he expected, but as long the Ghost King’s minion was out of the picture, he didn’t particularly care.

Phantom turned away, flying back to the Keep, and unnoticed behind him the broken pieces of the pumpkin burst into purple flames.

And now for the big decision.

Phantom stared at the damaged coffin then at the Skeleton Key in his hand. Was it better to have time or control?

He tasted the air with his tongue, deep in thought. Pariah Dark was going to break free soon – there was no going around it. The question was whether the remaining time was worth the element of surprise.

Phantom weighted the odds. On one hand, he was aware that his power level was still subpar, considering that he hadn’t even changed his appearance, stuck in the same shape he had on the day of his creation. On the other, he was also aware that there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had mastered the powers stolen from Plasmius and the ghost cores no longer gave him much energy compared to what he already had. On one hand, opening the coffin would put him far too close to the Ghost King at full strength. On the other, this confrontation was going to happen sooner or later anyway, and this would give him an element of surprise he might never get again.

Decision made, Phantom put the Skeleton Key into the lock and opened the coffin. He didn’t waste precious seconds to gawk at the giant form of the King of All Ghosts, instead snatching the Crown of Fire from his head and flying away with all the speed he was capable of.

An angry roar of the awakened monster behind him made Phantom fly even faster, when a purple fireball slammed into his side, sending him skidding onto the floor, the Crown of Fire flying from his hands. He lunged at the artifact, ignoring the sudden appearance of the Fright Knight, when a massive hand clamped around his body.

Phantom twisted his neck, turning to look into the crazed eye of Pariah Dark, and for the first time in his half-existence he felt something approaching fear.

Chapter Text

Phantom was tired of hiding, but he was out of options. He couldn’t defeat Pariah, he couldn’t destroy the Crown of Fire, and he barely managed to survive, using a combination of duplication and invisibility to fool the Ghost King long enough to form a portal and escape into the Human World.

Pariah chased after him, dragging entire cities into the Ghost Zone, opening massive portals through which his armies marched, while Phantom hid from him in the world’s most dangerous game of cat and mouse.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the humans joined the fray, distracting Pariah and giving Phantom time to lick his wounds and plan his next move.

Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do. The situation hadn’t changed – his power level was too low to fight Pariah yet he was unable to increase it. Phantom could only play the waiting game, allowing others to take on the Ghost King, and hope they were successful enough to tip the scales in his favor.

Frostbite felt far too old for his age. The situation was grim already when the fallen hero Phantom went mad, hunting down and devouring ghosts (he shuddered in disgust), but even his atrocities paled in comparison to the nightmare that awaited the world.

Pariah Dark had returned and there was nothing that Frostbite or anyone else could do to stop him. Oh, many had tried and the warriors of Far Frozen were still holding the line, but the skeleton hordes seemed endless. And in truth, it was only because Pariah was too busy wreaking havoc across the Human World that there were still the pockets of resistance left within the Ghost Zone.

The ice elemental walked through the complex cave system to the very heart of Far Frozen where its greatest treasures were kept. Most relics were used in the never-ending fight against the Ghost King’s army, but there was one treasure left – a conglomerate of translucent ice, lit from the inside by the blue light of the ghost core contained within.

The core simply appeared one day, formed from the ambient ectoplasm and post-human consciousness, as was the way of the afterlife. It entered the chrysalis stage and since then it was kept under the watchful eye of Frostbite and his people.

The ice elemental felt a stab of guilt at the sight of the complex machinery surrounding the frozen core. It was cruel to subject an unborn ghost to this but they were rapidly running out of options. The experimental procedure allowed to infuse a core with more energy, but there was only so much an already formed ghost could absorb.

But the core in chrysalis didn’t have such limits, allowing them to turn it into a powerful weapon against the enemy.

Frostbite sighed, looking at the core in sadness, “I hope you can forgive us for what we did, little one.”

He turned away, ready to leave, when a frantic beeping noise came from the machinery. He quickly checked the readings and gasped. The ghost was about to manifest!

He watched as the core pulsed brighter, the ice around it cracking, until all he could see was the brilliant blue glow.

Eventually, the glow began to fade, revealing the figure within.

The ghost was tiny and frail-looking, more akin to a human rather than an ice elemental, though its blue clothing, so similar to what Frostbite himself was wearing, marked it as one of the Far Frozen. It seemed confused, its translucent talons scratching the icy floor and its long wispy tail swaying back and forth, though this was to be expected – there was a high chance that it remembered nothing of its old life.

Then the ghost’s long pointed ears twitched and it looked up, noticing Frostbite. It stared at him blankly, until some semblance of sentience came to its blue gaze. Then it opened its maw, revealing rows upon rows of glimmering fangs, and let out a piercing screech.

Phantom didn’t expect to see Clockwork again, at least not until his part of the deal was fulfilled, but the Time Lord appeared nonetheless. He came out of nowhere, his power freezing the whole world, one of his medallions protecting Phantom from the same fate. He didn’t linger for long, only enough to berate Phantom for requiring so much time to deal with Pariah and suggest he visit Far Frozen. Clockwork didn’t offer any explanation, disappearing into the ether just as suddenly as he arrived, but Phantom wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It didn’t take him long to reach his destination. The powerful defenses around the land of Far Frozen that kept the skeleton army at bay were in tatters, the last remaining ice elementals steadily losing ground. Was he supposed to help them? Somehow, Phantom doubted this. Perhaps there was something within that he needed? That seemed more likely. He knew that Far Frozen was home to many powerful relics, after all, how else had its inhabitants been able to hold their own against Pariah Dark?

Phantom carefully slipped through the crumbling defenses, assessing the situation. Oddly enough, there weren’t many thralls inside, yet the land was utterly ruined, as if a powerful bomb had gone off, tearing open the ice caves and turning the inhabitants into nothing but green smears of ectoplasm.

What could have caused this?

He flew towards the ground zero, his fire melting through the barricades of broken ice, but his movements became much more cautious once he managed to detect a faint ecto-signature ahead.

Whichever ghost survived such destruction was likely to be a danger, so Phantom had to move quietly and strike fast. His form shifted into green mist, creeping between the shards of ice, but once the ghost became visible, he couldn’t help but transform back to solid state, the emotions he wasn’t supposed to feel freezing him into a state of shock.

The ghost looked up at him, blue eyes glowing between the frozen black icicles of his hair, and smiled, showing translucent needles of teeth.

“H-h-hey, Phantom,” he stuttered, his voice high and trembling. “G-guess what? Y-you killed me, b-b-but I’m still here!”

“…Danny?!”

The ghost giggled, “Wh-who else? Just my luck, r-right? H-h-how did this even happen? I should be dead!”

“You are a ghost,” Phantom pointed out, the remnants of his humanity fading back into nothingness. “You are dead.”

Danny swayed slightly and dug his oversized talons into the frozen mess of his hair, “That’s n-n-not part of the plan!”

A strange noise came out of his throat, not unlike that of tearing metal, and Danny quickly slapped both hands over his mouth, stifling the sound. He shivered, small patches of ice creeping over his snow-white skin and giving it a faint blue tint. He coiled on the frozen ground, too long tail wrapping around his seemingly frail form, and looked up at Phantom, “Are you going to kill me again?”

Phantom flicked out his forked tongue in an unconscious gesture of contemplation and looked down at his formerly human other half, “Do you want me to?”

Danny let out another noise, this one more like a knife over glass, “Does it matter what I want?”

Phantom flicked out his tongue again, “No, not really.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Danny smiled, lips stretching grotesquely wide, and spread his arms, welcoming his second death.

Chapter Text

Pariah Dark pressed a hand to his side, where his ectoplasm dripped through the cracks in his armor, and ground his teeth in rage. The wound refused to heal, sapping his strength, and to think, it was measly humans that managed to injure him so!

He tore off the damaged plates of his now useless armor, melting them to slag in his anger.

No matter. The humans had paid for this humiliation hundredfold. He made sure of it.

The King of All Ghosts stalked through the dark halls of his castle, a vicious grin on his face as he remembered the wide-scale destruction caused to the Human World. Now he could finally turn his efforts to the Ghost Zone and crush the resistance of the pitiful fools who refused to accept his rule.

He had barely settled on his throne when his servant arrived, dragging along an unknown ghost.

“My lord,” the Fright Knight bowed and shoved the creature forward. “This one was found in the ruins of Far Frozen. It wants to pledge its allegiance to you.”

Pariah Dark leaned forward, studying the oddly familiar ghost, when it looked up at him, blue eyes burning with hatred, and screeched.

Phantom crept through the castle, following the secret passages the traitorous knight told him about, when a piercing, nails-on-a-chalkboard sound tore through the air. He immediately abandoned all discretion, bolting towards the maddeningly loud scream.

He blasted through several walls, flying into the cavernous throne room, and paused for barely a second to assess the situation.

The Screech had disintegrated the ancient walls, but Pariah was still standing, weathering the onslaught of destructive energy, though any thralls remaining within the wide area of attack were nothing but dust.

The Fright Knight was curled on the floor, hands clamped over his head, playing up his weakness. Plausible deniability – he wouldn’t pick a side until the victor was determined.

It was just the two of them against the King of All Ghosts – Danny and Phantom, alone together as they were always meant to be.

Danny was drowning in his own feelings, missing half of his self and too much humanity crammed into whatever remained. His fear, grief and anger tangled into a painful mess that tore out of his throat in a shrieking wave of destruction, and he barely acknowledged his surroundings, only aware enough to note that Phantom was right – he was more useful as a weapon rather than food.

But Danny couldn’t use his power indefinitely. He stuttered, coughing painfully, and tasted ectoplasm in the back of his throat.

Thankfully, his other half had accounted for it, flying towards the somewhat dazed Pariah and snatching the Crown of Fire from his head. Once Phantom was out of the way, Danny Screeched again, ignoring the lancing pain in his throat and the steady drain of energy.

Phantom hit the crown with electricity, steadily increasing the charge. He had to hurry – Danny was weakening and Pariah was fighting his Screech, walking towards the ice elemental with slow but steady steps.

The Crown of Fire cracked and Phantom quickly bit into the artifact, absorbing its energy until it turned to dust.

Pariah noticed. He bellowed in rage and lunged towards Danny, one massive hand closing around him in a crushing grip.

His Screech stifled, Danny lashed out with ice, long shards piercing through Pariah’s hand, forcing him to drop the former human, and Phantom added his own power, first a barrage of ecto-blasts then a massive bolt of electricity colliding with the Ghost King.

Pariah responded with his own blood-red blasts and the battle began in earnest.

Phantom created several duplicates, all working in sync to keep the constant barrage of attacks, Danny taking cheap shots with his ice whenever he got the opportunity, but Pariah wasn’t the Ghost King for nothing. Even with the debilitating injury inflicted by the human weapons, even after weathering the Screech and losing his crown, he was a force to be reckoned with.

His duplicates were destroyed one by one and Phantom himself was cast down, crashing painfully onto the cracked floor. Pariah towered over him, bleeding from numerous but mostly superficial wounds.

“Why do you fight me, child?” the Ghost King asked as Phantom struggled to stand up. “Do you not understand how futile it is?”

He didn’t see a point in exchanging words with the enemy, but a stray glance at his formerly human other half compelled him to answer, “Because I promised.”

Pariah laughed, dark and unamused, “Naïve child. You promised?”

Phantom bared his fangs, the remnants of his humanity igniting his core, “Yes, I promised!”

An ethereal howl tore out of his throat, powerful and destructive, and Pariah stumbled back in barely disguised shock. Phantom didn’t let up, pouring all his remaining energy into the attack.

A towering wall of glowing blue ice slammed into the Ghost King from the side, forcing a muffled cry out of him. Danny grinned, ectoplasm dripping between his fangs, at the sight of a long spike buried into Pariah’s already injured side, and an almost metallic sound of his Screech joined Phantom’s Wail.

The Ghost King fell, his ectoplasm pooling on the cracked floor, and more ice appeared, trapping him underneath. Phantom lunged forward, seizing the opportunity, and buried his fangs in Pariah’s throat, tearing it open. Pariah thrashed, shattering the ice, but Phantom Wailed again, right in his face, knocking him out.

The ice receded, showing the deep wound almost piercing him through, and Phantom tore into Pariah’s body until his hands closed around the Ghost King’s burning core.

He pulled with all his strength, frantic and desperate, until something broke and the massive ghost melted into ectoplasm. With a faint feeling of something that might have been triumph, Phantom shoved the core into his mouth and forced it down his throat.

The core burned inside him, its energy so much more than he expected, but the feeling of liquid fire beneath his skin was painfully familiar. Phantom doubled over and screamed, the stolen energy pushing him over the threshold and into a different form. His body rippled, growing in height and bulging with muscle, his outfit shifting as well. His jumpsuit stretched, black and white crawling into a different arrangement, and a ragged-edged cape fluttered down his shoulders.

“We did it?” Danny rasped, coughing up ectoplasm. “We… won?”

“It appears so,” Phantom replied, his new voice dark and low.

“Not quite,” a third voice interrupted, and the world froze in a haze of blue.

“Clockwork?” Danny asked apprehensively, claws twitching over the Time Medallion that suddenly appeared around his neck. “W-what do you mean?”

“You have won the battle but lost the war. Humanity is on the brink of extinction.”

“What?!” Danny shrieked, his voice dipping into the metallic tones of the Screech.

“Despite the time the humans had to prepare, there was never enough anti-ghost tech,” the Time Lord explained. “And they were starting to get desperate. Desperate enough to unleash nuclear weaponry and destroy their own world with radioactive fallout.”

“…No,” Danny whispered, shaking his head in denial. “It can’t be… We won!”

“You defeated Pariah,” Clockwork replied. “But you can’t defeat nuclear winter. This world is about to end and there is nothing you can do about it.”

Chapter Text

Danny watched the falling snow with half-lidded eyes. It was no longer white, mixed as it was with ash and smoke, and the war-torn sky with its heavy grey clouds looked equally dirty.

When was the last time he saw the sun?

“You could always fly above the clouds,” a deep voice rumbled, and Danny slowly turned his head to look at his other half.

Phantom looked as apathetic as ever, his face lacking expression – he rarely bothered to fake emotions.

“I don’t want to,” Danny replied and pressed a bit closer to Phantom’s side. “I feel-” he paused to take an unneeded breath, trying to keep his grief and sorrow from bleeding into his voice and warping it into a Screech. “I feel like the sun is dying too. The sky is nothing but poison.”

“Absurd,” Phantom replied. “The planet is dying, but it can’t affect the sun.” He crafted his expression into a mocking smirk, baring the tips of his fangs, “Aren’t you supposed to be a space nerd?”

For a moment Danny stared at him incredulously and then burst into laughter. It wasn’t particularly funny but still he laughed, doubled over and clutching Phantom’s shoulders for support, his unstable emotions overtaking his mind yet quickly burning up into nothingness.

Calm again, Danny leaned back against his other half and pulled on his cape, wrapping the fabric around them both. Of course, neither felt cold, if for opposite reasons – Danny had the chill of Arctic winter in his core while Phantom was hellfire incarnate.

Danny dug his too long fingers into the white fire of Phantom’s hair. It felt warm and almost solid to the touch and Danny smiled, mesmerized by the sight of his translucent blue claws amidst the white flames.

It was hard to believe they used to be the same person.

Phantom didn’t mind his scrutiny – or rather didn’t care – merely waiting until Danny snapped out of his reverie.

“What now?” Phantom asked, his forked tongue flicking out in what might have been nervousness if he had enough humanity left to feel it.

“Now we wait,” Danny replied, the blue glow of his eyes dimming slightly.

They stayed in silence, watching the snow fall from the poisoned sky, and waited for the world to end.

If Danny Phantom had stopped Pariah Dark from taking over the world, Clockwork would have shifted him into a timeline, where he was the one who died while his family and friends stayed alive. It would have been a fitting reward for saving the world while placating the Observants – Clockwork could have merely said he was ensuring that another timeline didn’t fall victim to Pariah. 

Unfortunately, he had only succeeded in part. The Ghost King was defeated, but the damage inflicted upon the two worlds was too numerous. Still, even destruction was preferable to eternal slavery. Clockwork merely had to wait until his employers realized that this timeline was doomed, giving him permission to erase it. He could have still honored his end of the deal, if more subtly – a transfer of consciousness rather than a physical transport into the past.

But Clockwork didn’t account for the secrecy of the deal having such an effect on his employers’ opinion.

“To save the future Danny Phantom must perish,” one of the Observants proclaimed haughtily and Clockwork fought the urge to bash it over the head with his scepter. So in their eyes it was Danny at fault for this mess of a timeline?

Even worse – if they had only ordered him to kill the current version of Danny and Phantom, he could’ve simply faked it, fulfilling his end of the bargain. But no, his idiotic employers wanted to meddle with the past.

This was going to complicate his plans but he refused to be outmaneuvered. They wanted him to intervene, to make sure that Danny Phantom never went down this path?

Fine then. He will.

“Time out!”

Phantom flinched at the sudden weight around his neck, lighting up an ecto-blast in his hand, but he let it dissipate when he recognized the Time Medallion.

“Clockwork?” Danny asked curiously as the Master of Time materialized before them. “What happened? Are you finally going to erase this timeline?”

“Not yet,” Clockwork replied. “It has to exist for a little longer.”

“Then why are you here?” Phantom asked. “We had a deal.”

The Time Lord gave him a flat look, “My employers in their infinite idiocy decided that you are the one responsible for the destruction of this timeline rather than Pariah Dark. And now they want me to destroy your past self ten years ago, before the split in the timeline.”

“WHAT?!” Danny shrieked, rising into the air. “I will end them!”

“Tempting,” Clockwork sighed, “but no. They do have a role to play in the grand scheme of things.”

Danny didn’t calm down, the distilled humanity of his existence turning his anger into a blinding rage. His back arched and he screamed into the heavens, the piercing shriek climbing higher and higher until Phantom matter-of-factly clamped a hand around his throat.

Danny choked and clawed at him, ice-blue talons leaving long bleeding gashes, but Phantom much preferred dealing with physical attacks rather than the destructive and barely controllable Screech.

Clockwork merely waited until the unstable ice elemental calmed down, which didn’t take long – Danny tended to swing wildly from one emotion to the next, unable to sustain any one of them for longer than a few minutes.

“So what now?” Phantom asked, releasing his other half who promptly settled on his shoulders. “Are you changing the deal again?”

Clockwork shrugged, “It is perfectly within your rights to refuse, but I was going on the assumption that you would prefer to not be erased from existence.”

Danny snarled at him, gnashing his teeth, but otherwise stayed quiet.

“Do you have a plan?” Phantom asked and Clockwork smirked in response.

“Of course I do. Now listen closely…”

It was so strange to see them again – a blast from the past indeed. No wonder Clockwork demanded that Danny stay away. His unstable, formerly human half would have promptly had a breakdown and destroyed everything in range with either his Screech or his ice powers.

Even Phantom, for all that he lacked emotions, felt somewhat uneasy when he saw Sam and Tucker trying to shield his past self from Valerie.

“It was all your fault!” the Red Huntress yelled, ready to shoot the halfa, blaming him for the destruction of this world.

Well then, time to get in character.

Phantom sent a flash of green flames at the Red Huntress, knocking her away, and smirked at the trio of teenagers, “Actually, that was me. And you, eventually.” 

Chapter Text

Pretending to have all those emotions, be it anger, malice or anything else that fell under the umbrella of ‘evil’, was exhausting, but at least Phantom had enough experience with monologuing villains to fake it. But spending this whole day in the past, surrounded by the people he saw die ten years ago was too much even for him.

He was making mistakes and things were getting out of hand. He didn’t expect Jazz of all people to know Danny’s secret, much less to attack him and destroy his disguise, and his past self hadn’t even returned yet (what was taking him so long? getting the Time Medallion out wasn’t that hard or was Phantom overestimating his skills?).

But this was the final act and the scene was already set, so he could do nothing but play his role.

He rose into the air and made a mocking speech to his parents, calling them out on their ignorance (then again, was he any better to underestimate his sister this much?). He wrapped his parents, friends and teacher in solidified ecto-energy, chaining them to the vat of explosives. Next he created five invisible duplicates and sent them to overshadow the humans – it didn’t matter what games Clockwork played, Phantom wasn’t going to put them in danger.

But where was Danny?

Then Jazz attacked him (brave girl, if inexperienced) and Phantom had to continue the show (are you watching, Observants?). With his sister tied and gagged too, Phantom created another invisible duplicate, sending it to overshadow her.

He hovered before the trapped humans and faked a laugh to keep up appearances.

Where was Danny?

“Hey there, old man! Ready for a blast from your past?”

Ah, there he was.

As he was thrown away, Phantom shifted his original consciousness into one of his duplicates, and watched through his sister’s eyes as his past self promised to never become him.

And that was the whole point of this charade, wasn’t it? But his past self really needed to hurry.

The visible duplicate had to remind Danny that time was an issue as they fought (not that it was trying particularly hard – it was supposed to lose after all). The overheated vat was shaking and cracking and Phantom strengthened the invisible shield around Jazz, commanding the duplicates overshadowing his family, friends, and teacher to do the same. He was running out of time… This ruse couldn’t continue for long.

Danny had to win, no matter what.

His duplicate said something mocking and it seemed to be enough to give his past self a second wind. He screamed, his voice melting into a Ghostly Wail and if Phantom had his humanity still, he would have laughed at his choice of words.

They really were one and the same, weren’t they?

But he miscalculated again. The Wail required too much power, forcing Danny to revert to his human form, and Phantom cursed himself for not going easier on him. Even though the duplicate allowed itself to be sucked into the Fenton Thermos, it was already too late.

They ran out of time.

Danny stumbled and screamed in despair and the overheated vat exploded, the shockwave throwing him away.

The moment stretched for far too long though Phantom knew why – the medallion around his neck was more than enough confirmation. He dissolved the ecto-ropes and stretched the arms of his borrowed body in a far too human gesture.

Phantom floated closer to his past self, still frozen in time. Up close he looked… defeated. Beaten and bloody, his face twisted into an expression of pure horror. “I’ve really overestimated you, haven’t I?” the ghost muttered softly. “A single duplicate using only a fraction of my power and you still couldn’t defeat it in time... Though I admit, I was much older than you when I got my Ghostly Wail.”

“But the circumstances were quite similar, weren’t they?” Clockwork asked, finally deciding to show himself.

“Ironic, I know,” Phantom replied. “Well then, Clockwork, have I played my role well?”

The Master of Time smirked at him, “You make a very convincing villain, Phantom, and now I am well within my rights to unmake this mess, though my employers will find something to harp on, no doubt.”

Phantom crossed his arms, the metal of his sister’s battlesuit clanking far too loudly, “And what does it mean for Danny and I?”

“If you mean this Danny…” Clockwork nodded at the still frozen halfa, “I will reverse this timeline to a previous point in time, and he will continue on as the hero of his story, convincing the Observants that he will never turn to evil. And if you mean your Danny… Well, didn’t the two of you want to fuse back?”

Clockwork grabbed the thermos where one of Phantom’s duplicates was trapped and used it to capture the other five. Then he pointed the device at the original, not yet activating it, “And you will exist outside of time, once I erase your timeline. Of course, you have to be contained first, unless you want to disappear along with your entire world.”

Phantom eyed him warily, “For how long?”

Clockwork shrugged, “Until the Observants get off my tail. And you will need this time – reintegration will not be easy.”

Phantom held his gaze for a few seconds, trying to read those red eyes, but finally nodded and left his sister’s body, “Very well. But don’t try to double-cross me, Clockwork, because I will escape, and Master of Time or not, I will make you pay.”

Clockwork was right, they needed that time. Reintegration was slow, since neither had any idea what they were doing, but somehow they managed. They were two halves of the same person and they used it to their advantage, pulling on their shared memories as a starting point.

It wasn’t easy – he remembered all the death and destruction he caused with perfect clarity and his newfound conscience tore at him without end. But still he remembered that no matter what he did in his no longer existing timeline, the alternate was much worse. Still, it was a good thing that he was trapped in the thermos at the time – he shuddered to think what destruction he would have brought otherwise with his emotions running rampant.

But time went by and ever so slowly the two halves became whole again. Phantom- Danny- whoever he was now felt like a different person yet still undeniably himself.

He pressed against the metal walls of his prison, listening to Clockwork arguing his fate with the Observants, and wondered if he would ever be allowed freedom.

Time would tell, he supposed.

He had nothing but time. 

Chapter Text

Clockwork floated before the gathered Observants. Since the regular meetings only devolved into pointless arguments, they decided to bring the full brunt of the council down on him.

Took them long enough, really, but then again, what else could be expected from a bunch of bureaucrats?

“What crime are you accusing me of?” he asked, his voice calm, despite the anger he felt sizzling beneath his skin.

The speaker pointed a clawed finger at him, “You know exactly what you did! You meddled with the past!”

Clockwork tightened his grip on his scepter, “On your orders.”

“Your orders,” the Observant hissed, “were to destroy Danny Phantom!”

“No, my orders were, and I quote, ‘To save the future’, which I did. It wasn’t necessary for Danny Phantom to die in order to prevent his turn to evil. Allowing him to see the consequences of his choices ensured that he will never stray from the path of a hero.”

Another Observant rose to speak, “If that is true, then preventing the death of his family was unnecessary.”

Clockwork narrowed his eyes, “No matter what happened in the original timeline, the events of this one were caused by me acting on your orders. I will not have him suffer the consequences of my actions.”

“Do not try to confuse us, Clockwork,” the first speaker said. “Your meddling has caused more harm than good!”

“How?” the Time Lord asked. “I have prevented the world coming to an end and destroyed a corrupted timeline. Why does saving the lives of six ordinary humans somehow outweigh it?”

“Those humans are irrelevant,” another Observant said. “However, because of you Danny Phantom’s evil self now exists outside of time. What is preventing him from causing another apocalypse?”

“He is currently trapped in a thermos, kept under my constant watch. And even if he somehow manages to break free, Danny has defeated him once. He can do it again.”

“And what about his formerly human half? Do not think we haven’t noticed you placing him in the thermos as well!”

“Consider it a preventative measure,” the Time Lord said. “Reintegration with his humanity will lower the risk of Phantom going on another killing spree.”

“Or drive him even more insane!” the Observant protested. “Such evil is beyond redemption or rehabilitation.”

“We shall see,” Clockwork flatly replied.

The Observants stared at him silently then turned to whisper to each other. Clockwork waited until the whispers died down and asked with more calm than he truly felt, “What is your verdict?”

The speaker rose again, “The council has come to a decision – the boy is your responsibility now, as is his evil self.”

Clockwork bowed slightly, trying not to smirk, “I accept.”

“Then this meeting is adjourned. Do not make us regret this.”

“Regularly dealing with the Observants would drive even a saint to murder,” Clockwork sighed returning to his tower.

“Please, tell me how you really feel,” an all too familiar voice called mockingly from inside the battered thermos.

The Master of Time chuckled, “Channeling your sister, Daniel?”

The thermos shook slightly as the ghost inside shifted, “That’s not my name.”

Clockwork hummed, “Have you picked a new one then?”

“Don’t you know the answer already?”

The Time Lord shrugged, “Humor me. I need some intelligent conversation after dealing with my employers.”

“Fine,” his ally-slash-prisoner relented. “I was Danny for fourteen years and Phantom for ten more, but I’m not them. Besides, there already is a Danny Phantom in this timeline. And as for my last name… Well, I highly doubt that any of the Fentons would be eager to claim me as family. No, those names are part of my past, but I’m not that person anymore.”

“And what kind of person are you now?” Clockwork asked.

The imprisoned ghost laughed bitterly, “Not a good one, that's for sure. Call me Damien, Damien Thorn. It’s fitting, isn’t it, considering I caused an actual apocalypse?”

“You also prevented it from ever happening, so it all evens out,” the Time Lord said. “Don’t beat yourself too much – you tried to make the best of an already terrible situation where there were no good choices. Cheer up – I bring good news. The Observants are no longer baying for your blood.”

“…But I will remain your prisoner?”

Clockwork smirked, “Wait and see, Damien, just wait and see.”

Allowing his parents to keep their memories after rewriting the rest of the world with the Reality Gauntlet was the best decision Danny ever made. (As was destroying the artifact – it was too powerful and too… noisy, its endless whispers and poisonous promises sliding into his ears and mixing with his thoughts, making them nearly impossible to separate.)

It still felt incredibly weird to be in ghost form in front of his parents or have their usual enthusiasm directed at helping rather than attacking him.

And grilling him for information.

“So you’ve never met Santa?” Jack asked with disappointment but quickly perked up. “Maybe you were just looking in the wrong places!”

Maddie groaned, “Jack, please… Not this again.”

“Oh, come on, Mads!” Jack grinned. “What about the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future?”

“They are fictional, dear,” Maddie sighed.

Jack didn’t hear her, continuing to ramble, “I’d love to see the Ghost of Christmas Future! Or maybe just the Ghost of Future – that would be awesome too!”

Danny winced, “Believe me, dad, you really, really don’t.”

“Why not?” Jack asked cluelessly. “Don’t you want to know the future, Danny-boy? I wish I could meet my future self! Or your future self! Would it be cool or what?”

Danny paled several shades, “Uh, dad? Maybe we should… go eat something? Isn’t it time for dinner already?”

“It’s still-” Maddie started to say, but her words were lost in a stampede of feet when Jack barreled upstairs, Danny flying after him. She shook her head with a fond smile and followed her family to the kitchen – she was a bit hungry too.

No one heard an echoing feminine voice radiate from the open Ghost Portal, “So have you wished it, so shall it be.”

Chapter Text

To anyone who followed, faved, or subscribed to this fic: it is currently being REWRITTEN.

The new, improved, and significantly expanded version can be found here.

The main plot remained unchanged, but I tweaked some events and greatly expanded it in general. Plus, now it continues past the original endpoint. So if you liked the original fic, I hope you’ll like the new version too!