Phantoms: Ice and Fire--Chap 5

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing!!!
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Phantoms: Ice and Fire

Chapter Five: The Master

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Two Weeks Later

"....just a little bit longer, Daniel. You can do it..."

"Errgh...but...I....caaaan't..."

"Yes you can, Daniel, and you will. Now, keep your focus..."

Clockwork couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at the red faced expression of his young charge. Danny was floating a mere metre from where he was, but unlike the Time Master, his feet were not a safe distance from the ground. Clockwork, in the pretense of trying to look more imposing, had conjured up legs to watch as his pupil attempted to fly.

Hovering over the edge of a cliff that dropped off the side of his island into the nothingness that was the Ghost Zone.

Clockwork chuckled. While he was sure that Danny thought that this training was a matter of life or death (in a manner of speaking), Clockwork knew that, should he fail, the natural buoyancy of the Ghost Zone would only drop him a few metres before catching him again.

....not that he was going to tell Danny that, of course—fear was excellent motivation.

So, when Danny let out a squeak of fear as his concentration broke, Clockwork only panicked slightly. Nevertheless, he plucked the young halfling out of the air before he had a chance to fall more than three feet—no sense in letting a perfectly good training method go to waste, right?

Ignoring the fact that Danny's impromptu-near miss had gotten him more than a bit riled up, Clockwork placed the now-squirming-but-still-shocked Danny on the rocky ground, making sure his white-booted feet were firmly planted before letting go of his underarms.

Danny gave him a shaky pout that might have been hiding a smile before bolting off, giggling madly. It took Clockwork a moment to realize that Danny's training session was only half an hour in.

Really, children were a menace.

He thought for a moment whether or not chasing after the child was worth the effort, and eventually decided that, yes, training Danny "Phantom" so that he didn't run off and get himself killed was more important than a few minutes of peace and quiet. Mercilessly fighting away a sigh, Clockwork focussed his energy and—

Danny's face when he appeared suddenly in front of him in a swirl of light was well worth the energy drain that accompanied teleportation.

The young halfa squealed in surprise and skidding to a halt, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

Clockwork smirked.

"Can I learn how to do THAT?!"

The smirk disappeared.

"Perhaps you should learn how to actually fly first, Daniel. Or do you like your constant meetings with the ground?" He had said it teasingly, and Danny reacted as he expected: flushing red (Yes, red! It was astounding!) and mumbling incoherently.

"None of that, Daniel. Now, to that outcrop and back."

"But I–!" Danny panicked, eyes wide.

"Go!"

Clockwork would be damned if he wasn't a hands-on teacher.

With a frustrated little yell, Danny rose unsteadily into the air and floated spastically forward, using his small hands as a sort of propellor. As amusing as it was to watch his charge attempt to doggy-paddle air, Clockwork felt a warm glow at watching his progress.

Danny was a fast learner. Just a week ago, he had been waking up screaming every night, and flinching every time he had to use his powers. While the young boy had seemed excited enough about the...perks...of being half-dead, his whole life he had been taught to hate ghosts, to hunt them and fear them.

It was hard to break such an ingrained teaching, especially when it was one of the only things Danny had left of his parents.

But now, as Danny came floating back to him, a look of wide-eyed wonder on his face, Clockwork knew that something in him had been repaired.

He was strong. Stronger than he himself knew.

Danny floated unsteadily to a stop, his arms pin-wheeling to gain balance as he touched lightly to the ground. There was a pause, and then he looked up at Clockwork, his face in a wide grin of bewilderment.

"I did it..." he whispered, then laughed. "I did it! I did it! I FLEW!"  He was practically bouncing with excitement.

Clockwork smiled lightly and, swallowing what little pride he had left after a mere fortnight of the halfa's company, he ruffled Danny's white hair, the action for once not causing the boy to recoil in embarrassment. "Well done. Now, do it again, and see if you can without bouncing off the walls."

It was worth it to see Danny's face fall in horror.

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Danny glanced at the clock, noting with some frustration that the man-sized minute hand had barely moved at all. Clockwork's meeting with the "Pestering Old Eyeballs" (as Clockwork himself called them) was taking forever, and he was very bad at waiting. Letting out a little huff of irritation, he focussed on his reflection in the colossal glass face of the clock. Pale fingers toyed with the violet edges of the heavy material, ghosting across the metal cog above his heart that held the cloak together. Grudgingly, he smiled. It was warm.

In all honesty, he would have discarded the cloak without a second thought, preferring to just float around in his hazmat  regardless of what the Time Master said, but something had stopped him. And not just the comforting warmth that was so different from the rest of the Ghost Zone.

"See? You look very smart in that. It suits you."

Danny shivered slightly, recalling the words that Clockwork had spoken to him, shortly after Marla had fitted him.

His mother used to say things like that.

Danny didn't know what to think about Clockwork. He was scary—not in the threatening, School-Bully way, but in that he was just so big. Clockwork's ghostly form radiated power, his whole body glowed with it. It was difficult enough to stand in ghost form, but the aura was almost suffocating when he was human, like he was now.

Danny studied his reflection more closely. He really did resemble his...his Dad, didn't he? He bit his lip and forced the tears away. Determined, he flung the cloak back over his shoulders, freeing his hands completely. Raising them halfway and flexing his fingers, he let out a long breath—it condensed quickly in the cool air—and felt for his power.

The smallest jolt of pain went through him–his heart stopped beating. That was what had truly frightened him in the beginning, but it was old news, now. A rush of strange iciness filtered through his veins, and a brilliant halo of light exploded at his waist, travelling upwards with a painful slowness.

Danny forced himself to keep his eyes open and glued on his reflection instead of letting the power roll them back in his head. The discomfort would pass. He was getting better at it. He watched as his new red jumper and jeans faded into the familiar sight of his black and silver hazmat suit. The cloak remained the same, which Danny had to admit was so cool.

The light passed over his face, obscuring his view for a millisecond, and then it was over. A boy with neon green eyes and powder-white hair was staring back at him from behind the glass.

Danny smiled. Then grinned. Soon he was laughing, the sound echoing out and drowning out the muffled voices that came from down the hall in the "Meeting" room. Only a month before, he had hated the feeling of transformation, the awful sting of all of his cells dying, but now he was used to it. And Clockwork said it would only get easier.

Giddy with a new energy, Danny spun on his heel and flew out the hallway at top speed. He was proud to say that he only smacked into a wall once, and he could've sworn it hadn't been there a second ago.

Finally making it out into the grounds, Danny cut a quick left and flew straight for the large pile of rusting cogs at the edge of Clockwork's territory. It was a good fifty feet high and covered the entire back end of Clockwork's territory like some bizarre dumping ground,  laced with wires and pipes and cables and creating a semi-sturdy and completely hazardous maze of metal that was Danny's absolute favourite place in his new home.

Except his room, of course, but that was only because of the glass ceiling.

Danny floated to a stop and hovered near the spindly skeleton of a tall tree, a sad smile on his face.

Jazzy would've hated it there, but she would have played hide-and-seek with him and Tucker anyway, or help them build a fort, or even just watch the two of them play video games and eat pretzels. Danny sniffed a little, forcing back tears. There was no Jazzy to share pretzels with, anymore. No Tucker, either, really.  He wondered if his only friend in school missed him. He had been gone for weeks....would he ever see him again? Were they even still friends?

At least he knew Dashel's opinion on him wouldn't change. It was strangely comforting.

Danny looked up from where he had been staring at the ground when he heard a noise from within the cog-pile. A trill of fearful excitement ran through him, making him shiver. He always HAD liked horror movies.

The ones without ghosts, that was.

The noise came again, louder, and Danny realized that it was a strange 'pinging' sound, like metal on metal. It echoed menacingly, and Danny shivered again, this time in anticipation.

Maybe it was a ghost? The thought was enough to send him into a fit of laughter, for what else COULD it have been? He floated forward, pushing his cloak back and peering into the main tunnel of the pile. He noted with some amazement that the tunnel lit up with his green eyes, something he hadn't noticed before. The sound came again, bouncing along the metal pipeline eerily.

Danny felt his chest clench, felt that same irresistible pull that had led him into the arms of the portal, and knew with the same sickening certainty, that he would follow that urge to the ends of the Earth.

So it was only natural that Danny climbed into the pipe and crawled along, a wild smile on his face and his ears pricked to the metallic pinging deep inside the junk heap. Only the pale green glow of his eyes lit his way, creating strange shadows with every movement.  His breath came unnaturally hot in such tight confines, and any light from behind him was obscured by his cloak. As his neck began to ache and his knees were bruised, Danny would wonder about turning back, going to wait for Clockwork like he had promised he would, and he couldn't help but wish that he had perfected that "intangibility" that Clockwork could do. It sure as hell would've been handy, now. But then that pinging would start again, and Danny knew that he would have to continue, lest he burst with curiosity.

Maybe it was an animal—there WERE ghost animals, right? Or maybe a strange machine...or a robot!  A grin split his face at the thought, and as a faint, flickering light began to shine from the end of the tunnel, Danny increased his pace as much as he could while on his abused hands and knees.

The pinging was louder now, almost too loud, like someone beating a metal drum with an equally metal drumstick. His sensitive ears protested at the sound, made only worse by the echoing pipeline around him, but he was intrigued.

What on earth was that sound?

Realistically, he should've known that crawling half a mile into steel wreckage in a land where death isn't exactly a big deal was NOT a good idea, but the larger, rebellious part of his mind—the ADHD part that would get him pushed down in the playground after a particularly bold remark—was repeating a mantra in his head.

Gotta see it.

Gotta see it.

Gotta see it.

Danny let out a little giggle and thought that maybe he shouldn't have had that last piece of chocolate cake that evening, but he just couldn't help it if Clockwork sometimes forgot that humans—especially eight-year-old humans—unlike ghosts, needed to be fed. He had to stock up.

The extra sugar REALLY didn't help his attention span, though, nor his rationality.

Wind blew like the breath of a giant beast across his face, and Danny stopped giggling instantly, all giddiness replaced with awe.

The pipeline had ended, opening up into a vast cavern of steel, lined with cables that strained to hold back the weight of the mountain.  Wide beams lay haphazardly and cogs the size of minivans lay stacked in piles. Danny's hair blew back as that unnatural wind floated through the space once more, hot and rusty, like burning metal. The warm glow from before radiated from a gas fire in the centre of the chamber.

Immediately, Danny knew something was wrong. Ghosts had no need of mortal fire—why would they, when they were cold and dead themselves? But it was obviously real fire, with acrid smoke and everything. And a figure was knelt at it, holding a metal rod like a fire poker.

It 'pinged' again as the figure rapped the rod against the metal rim of fire leisurely. The man looked up, then, and the first thing Danny noticed was the ice blue skin and stark black hair that swept upward in menacing spikes.

He smiled, and called out in a deceptively warm voice,

"Ah...a visitor."

Danny's blood ran cold.

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Vladimir Masters smiled up at the young ghost, his thoughts whirling. He didn't understand. He didn't know where he was. And he had thought for sure that he was aware of every ghostly being, and every territory  in the Zone.

How wrong he was.

"Ah...a visitor." he said mildly, beckoning the youngling to come towards the fire. When the child didn't move, Vlad toned down his powers just a tad, letting the heat in the air dull slightly and calming the winds that the clashing temperatures of his energy and the Zone had created.  He needed the child. He could tell him where he was.

It had been an accident. An experiment. Vlad had been trying out one of the newest powers he had developed: teleportation. He had been sure that he could perfect it.

Unfortunately, he was wrong, and he was in an unknown territory,  buried under fifty feet of rubble.

Hurray.

The child floated downward warily, and Vlad immediately zoned in on the crest on his cloak, but it was unfamiliar. Cursing mentally, Vlad smiled and put down his makeshift fire poker, noting when the child relaxed. "My name is Plasmius, child, and who might you be?"

"I-it's Danny Fe—just Danny." he stuttered, looking intently at him with neon green eyes. He was very small, Vlad noted, and if he had cared more, he might have asked how he had died. But alas, the fates of ghosts did not concern him. He smiled again.

"Hello, Daniel."

"It's Danny" the child insisted, eyes narrowing comically. Vlad chuckled, even as a small part of him shuddered slightly with nostalgia. He had sounded just like...

Just.....like...

Vlad's eyes widened, causing Daniel to lean away quickly, but he didn't care.

Daniel.....Danny......Danny Fe–?

"Y-you said your name was Daniel? And your surname, your last name...is it...Fenton?"

Daniel's mouth dropped and his eyes widened in fear. "H-how did you know that? Are...are you a friend of Clockwork's? Do you know where my parents are?!" his voice pitched dangerously, echoing through the chamber. Suddenly, it was much colder, but Vlad didn't care.

"Clockwork...." he breathed in fascination. "This is....this is wonderful. I may have lost Maddie, but you, my boy, you are the key to my desires, dead or no."

Danny let out a scream as Vlad lunged forward, grabbing the young ghost's wrist in a firm grip. His smile only widened as the boy just struggled fruitlessly, a small scream ripping from his lips. "You cannot yet 'Phase'....this is turning out much more in my favour than I could ever have hoped! With you for ransom, I could bargain with the Time Master, I could do it all over! I could have Madeline...."

"WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH MY MOTHER?!" Danny screamed, jerking his body uselessly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Who are you, you Fruit-Loop?! What are you doing?!"

Vladimir smiled ferally, causing the boy to squeak in fear and quiet. "I am someone you know very well, my little badger, and while I am very sorry for your untimely demise, it was all for the best, because that fool is dead and still re-forming, and  I. Have. You."

He shook Danny's body roughly with every word, and Danny gasped at the heat that was building in his arm, in his head, everywhere. His vision was going fuzzy, and the man kept shaking him. In a flash, he understood what Plasmius had said. His eyes filled with pain and he gasped out, even as the darkness devoured him,

"Un...cle....Vl...ad..."

Plasmius grinned, looking quiet deranged with a young boy dangling from his hands, but his triumph turned to shock when a bright light erupted from around the boy's waist, and travelled.

Silver boots became red trainers. Black became jeans and a red jumper, and Daniel's powder white hair turned black once again.

Vlad Masters stared in shock at the breathing, human boy that dangled from his wrist in his hand, before laughing.

Once he began, he couldn't stop.

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A mere mile away, the Observants cried out in panic as the Mater of Time, Clockwork himself screamed in agony and collapsed to the meeting room floor, a mass of twitching limbs and flickering energy.

The Time had come.