#ecto-american

Danny spiraled through the clock tower, lingering in places he was usually barred from.  If he had a fatal flaw, it was curiosity.  But his goal today wasn’t to sate his curiosity, so he moved on.  He might not be vulnerable to much in this form, as far as he’d been able to tell, but he didn’t want to push things today.  

Finally, he found what he was looking for.  Clockwork’s bedroom.  

Danny had never been in here, and he was, momentarily, taken aback by the space symbolism, by the planets and stars carved into the brass and blue gears.  It was beautiful, each placement and symbol precise, organized, and carefully stylized, but it also shared striking similarities to the guest room Clockwork had prepared for Danny.  

Clockwork curled on the bed, violet covers curled and knotted around him.  His tail twitched.  

Ha!  Danny had timed this right.  Clockwork was going to be so surprised.  And impressed.  Probably.  Maybe.  Danny wasn’t going to get his hopes up.  It was sort of pathetic how much he wanted Clockwork’s praise, but…  Sometimes it felt like Clockwork and Frostbite were the only adults who looked at him like he wasn’t a complete screw up.  

He circled Clockwork.  He’d only done this a few times, now, and never with Clockwork as his target, of course, but he was pretty sure he understood how it worked.  Still, he vibrated with nerves.  

This was, maybe, a slight breach of privacy.  However, Clockwork had access to Danny’s entire life, and Danny was just going to pop in and out.  He didn’t intend to poke around and intrude, just to stay long enough for Clockwork to notice.  

He took a deep breath, and dove into Clockwork’s dream.

A moment of darkness gave way to a long gallery of pointed arches.  The air felt cool, humid, with that hard-to-describe softness that made Danny think of summer nights spent outdoors.  The stones under his feet were arranged in patterns of dark and light, though the color was strangely hard to see.  

Danny turned in place, and caught sight of Clockwork standing where the walls between the arches gave way to open air, deep blue and purple foliage spilling onto the archway.  Clockwork looked out, his back to Danny.  

With some difficulty, Danny suppressed his urge to giggle before he rammed, affectionately, into Clockwork.  

“What–” said Clockwork, breathlessly.  He was surprised, then.  Success!

“Clockwork!  It’s me!  Guess what!  I have a new power!”  He swung around in front of Clockwork, still half leaning on him, and looked up at Clockwork’s face.  

On taking in Clockwork’s stricken expression and the eyepatch over his left eye, Danny froze, abruptly much less sure of his position.  

“Clockwork?  Are you alright?”

Clockwork blinked, once slowly, then twice more, rapidly.  He shook his head, as if throwing something off.  “Daniel?  What are you doing here?  This… you should not be here.”  Clockwork frowned.  “No, you cannot be here.  I am dreaming.”  He said this last with significantly less certainty than Danny was used to.  

“Yeah!” said Danny, recapturing some of his earlier enthusiasm.  “I got a new power!  I can astral project and go into people’s dreams that way, kind of like that time with Nocturne, except I’m getting sleep this way, too.”

“Oh,” said Clockwork.  “Oh!  Oh.  I see.”  He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder.  To Danny’s surprise, it was shaking.  

“Clockwork, were you having a nightmare?”

“Not as such, no,” said Clockwork.  “However, I must ask you not to do this again without my permission.  Unless it is an emergency.”

Danny let go of Clockwork’s cloak.  “Okay,” he said.  He looked down.  

“Daniel, how long have you had this power?”

“A couple weeks?  I wanted to surprise you.”  He glanced up.  “Were you surprised?”

Clockwork forced a smile.  “Yes, I rather was.”

This had not gone the way Danny had wanted at all.  Clockwork was really upset with him, wasn’t he?

The floor shuddered.  

“What was that?” asked Danny.  

“Oh, no,” said Clockwork, looking out through the garden.  

A tree fell, crushing something that may have been a building.  Slightly closer, more vegetation was crushed and felled.  Clockwork grabbed Danny’s arm and pushed him behind him.  

The last barrier of leaves was pushed away, and the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep towered above them.  

Danny tumbled out of bed, his hold on his projection broken.  That was… unexpected.  

A blue spark lit the empty space in the middle of the room, and a portal rippled into being.  A frazzled-looking Clockwork flew out.  His eyes first went to Danny’s bed,but quickly found him on the floor.  

“Daniel,” he said.  “That was not entirely a figment of my imagination, I see.”

“Um, no,” said Danny, picking himself up.  “Sorry.  I should have said something, I just…”

“It is…” started Clockwork.  He sighed and patted Danny’s shoulder.  “It was a learning experience.”

.

“Clockwork,” said Danny, “is… something wrong?”

“No,” said Clockwork, folding his hands in front of him, “everything is fine.”

Danny nodded, but leaned around Clockwork to see a duplicate in furs hurtle across a doorway.  There was a bang and shouting.  “Are those Observants?”

“No,” said Clockwork again.  “Now, I believe that last time we were about to look into the recent history of Agartha?”

“We were talking about Mahoroba, I think, and the Fifteen Empires of Japan.  But that was a sort of tangent.”

“Hm,” said Clockwork.  

“Clockwork you must–” There was a thump.  

Yes, that had definitely been an Observant.  Only they could manage that precise, annoying, tone.  

“I can come back later,” offered Danny.  “If you’re… busy.”  Or doing something that he didn’t want Danny to see.  Danny could understand that.  He did things like this enough.  

“You do not need to.  Everything is fine.  Normal,” insisted Clockwork.  

Danny bit his lower lip.  “Did you get enough sleep?” he blurted out.  He bit down on the last word, embarrassed.   

“I am quite alright.”

“If you’re sure.”

They went to the library, where Clockwork dithered and fidgeted over the books.  He didn’t, quite, drop anything, but it was close, and Danny felt like he might be cheating by rolling back time to erase real fumbles.  

It was worrying.  

“Clockwork?  Are the Observants…”  Danny struggled to put his question into words.  He’d never been sure what the relationship between Clockwork and the Observants was.  He knew they had some kind of hold over him and that they butted heads frequently, particularly over Danny, but Clockwork had never really gone into depth over it.  “Are they threatening you or something?  Making you do something?”

Clockwork laughed, making Danny jump.  It wasn’t a very happy laugh, strained and too high-pitched.  “No,” he said.  “I am fine, as I said.  Now, we were looking into the Horai and Penglai mountains, yes?”

Danny cringed.  Clockwork’s attention must be really divided.  “Maybe we could just take a break?  We can always pick things back up next week.”

Clockwork practically sagged in relief, but he seemed to rally himself.  “Daniel, we cannot neglect your education into ghostly history.”

“I know, I know,” said Danny, with a tiny touch of desperation.  “But it’s just this once.  Please?  I think we - I - need a break.  Please?”  He turned on the puppy dog eyes.  

“Oh, alright,” said Clockwork.  “We can take a break, just this once.”  He settled, curling his tail, on the armchair across from Danny.  “A small break.” 

“Sure, sure,” said Danny.  

The break evolved to be neither small nor particularly restful.  There was too much banging and yelling from the Observants for that, but at least Clockwork rested.  Danny was going to count that as a win.  

.

To Danny’s extreme discomfort, the strangeness of the week didn’t stop there.  

For one, there seemed to be Observants everywhere.  None got completely close to him, but that didn’t make their presence any less uncomfortable.  They had tried to make Clockwork assassinate him, once upon a time, and, good reason or not, Danny didn’t trust them at all.  

Plus, they were being mean to Clockwork right now.  To the point of making him a nervous wreck.  There was no reason for that.  

“It’s been quiet lately,” said Tucker, pensively, twirling a pencil between his fingers.

“What are you talking about?” asked Danny with a scowl.  

“You haven’t had to run out of class since Monday.”

“So?”

“It’s Thursday.  The teachers are starting to give you funny looks.”

It was true, on the surface, but, it was hard to appreciate the reprieve with the people who had taken out a hit on him watching him constantly.  The ghost he’d run out for on Monday had been an Observant, too, and Danny hadn’t exactly dealt with them so much as a Clockwork duplicate had materialized out of nowhere and clotheslined the Observant into another dimension.

“Not just the teachers,” said Sam, leaning in.  “I think maybe you’ve established too much of a pattern.  Everyone’s on edge.”

Danny crossed his arms and glared out the window to see, yep, an Observant down the street, flying towards the school.  A bus passed by, and the Observant disappeared. 

“Me, too,” said Danny.  He lowered his voice.  “Remember what I told you about stalkers?”

“What, they’re still here?” asked Sam.  

“They’ve been here all week,” said Danny.  “Clockwork keeps chasing them off, but I haven’t been able to talk to him, either, so I don’t know what’s going on.”

“He didn’t say anything over the weekend?  No mysterious hints?”  Sam picked up her notebook and put it on her knees, pen ready.  

“No.  He was acting weird, though.”  So had the Observants, in retrospect, but Danny had a tendency to file all his memories in the Pit of Oblivion until they became relevant to Problems.

… That’s probably why his friends called him Oblivious One and Clueless One.  

Unfortunately, all thoughts were banished from Danny’s head as class started.  English.  The bane of his attention span.  The Odyssey wasn’t terrible, but the version of it that had survived on Earth was far from the best.  Especially in the elderly translation Casper High had been able to afford fifty years ago.  

(Danny was not exaggerating about the books’ age.  He’d found one with Poindexter’s name in it.)

Plus, ugh, thematic analysis.  

Danny amused himself by watching the tag sticking out of Mr. Lancer’s collar.  It was third period.  How was it he hadn’t noticed it yet?  Had no one told him about it?  That was a silly question, if someone had told him about it, he would have done something about it.  Maybe Danny should tell him about it.  But would he be embarrassed by having it pointed out to him in the middle of class?  No, surely walking around with it out all day was more embarrassing.  Danny raised his hand.  

His ghost sense went off.  

Observants poured through the walls.  

“1984!” exclaimed Mr. Lancer, reaching for a bottle on his desk.  

Danny, thinking quickly, shot up out of the desk, caught his pant leg on the metal basket underneath the desk, and face planted.  

Well, his secret identity should still be intact after that.  

Mr. Lancer, meanwhile, was screeching.  He wasn’t the only one.  Except for himself, Sam, and Tucker, everyone was screaming.  Everyone, oddly enough, including the Observants.  

Wow, Danny had no idea whiteboard cleaning spray was that effective against Observants.  Or that Mr. Lancer had such good aim.  Observant after Observant went down, clutching their bulbous, green-shot eyes.  Danny was in awe.  He had to get Mr. Lancer some ectoweapons.  The guy might actually be effective.  

Speaking of ectoweapons– He fumbled for his bag where he kept a small blaster, for emergencies, and his thermos.  He started firing.  

This would definitely get him into trouble.  Sam and Tucker, would be, too, with their own weapons.  They weren’t supposed to bring anything that fired ammunition to school.  But between suspension, letting the Observants catch him, and revealing himself, he knew what he would take.  

But there were a lot of Observants.  Mr. Lancer ran out of white board cleaner, then out of both erasers and markers to throw, the ‘full’ light on the Thermos came on, and the sprayed Observants began to recover, restraining Mr. Lancer and most anyone else who had tried to fight.  

“Enough!” shouted one of the Observants over the screaming students.  “We did not come here to fight.  You!”  The Observant pointed a clawed finger at Danny.  “We need your help.”

The class fell silent.  

Danny’s jaw dropped.  “Are you serious?” he demanded.  

“We–”

“You tried to kill me!” 

“For good reason, boy!”

“There were so many things you could do before jumping to murder!  What makes you think I’d help you?”

The Observants looked at one another.  Evidently, they hadn’t considered that Danny would object to helping them.  Well, joke was on them.  He didn’t blindly help just anyone for anything.  That would wind up hurting people more than it helped!

“Why would ghosts want to kill Fentoenail?” said Dash at a volume far too loud to be a whisper.  

“Have you forgotten who his parents are?” asked Paulina.  “Duh.”

“Pariah Dark has been freed again,” said the Observant.  

Oh.  

Well.  

Yeah.  Danny would help with that.  He’d have to.  Odds of Pariah not attacking Amity Park were practically zero.  

But he didn’t have the suit this time.  

Heck.  

“Fine, I’ll come with you.”

The room exploded in protest and confusion.  

“Danny, you can’t–” started Sam, still aiming a wrist ray at an Observant.  

“I’ll be fine,” said Danny.  “I’ve got someone looking out for me, remember?”  He grinned, weakly. 

The Observants didn’t deign to wait any longer, seizing Danny and flying out and up. 

“Okay, who let him out?” asked Danny over the wind.

“We are unsure.” 

“Aren’t you guys supposed to have surveillance as a superpower?”

“Pariah Dark was released eight days ago.”

“Wait,” said Danny, “is that why you’ve been the only ghosts in town this week?  Everyone else is hiding?”

The Observants looked at each other.

“You’d better not lie to me,” said Danny.  

“We believe that may be a factor,” said one, younger-sounding Observant.  “However, Pariah Dark’s release has not been made public knowledge at this time.”

They dragged him through a shaky green portal and Danny transformed. “You mean he isn’t running around trying to conquer everything he looks at?”

“Unfortunately,” said the lead Observant.  

“Then what is he doing?”

“We are unsure.  When we attempt to find out, Clockwork stops us,” the last was said with incredible bitterness.  “Much like how he has been preventing us from speaking to you.”

So that’s what he’d been doing when Danny had visited him last, the reason he’d been so nervous.  

But why wouldn’t he tell Danny about Pariah Dark waking up again?  Why would he keep the Observants from watching Pariah Dark?  The timing of everything was strange, too.  That dream Clockwork had been having about the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep… could it have been a premonition of some kind?  Or maybe Clockwork having a nightmare about something he’d seen coming?  

Danny’s grades might have been trash, but he wasn’t stupid.  For some reason, he’d been actively hiding this from Danny.  Why?  Would Danny somehow have a negative impact on the outcome if he got involved, this time?  Was Clockwork trying to protect Danny?  That made sense, if he knew the Observants would contact and try to recruit Danny…

Still, he could feel the edges of a missing puzzle piece.  

“Have you talked to Clockwork?” asked Danny.  “Asked him why?”

“We have tried, but Clockwork is with the tyrant,” said the Observant.

Danny twisted, wide-eyed.  “Ancients, you could lead with that.” 

Clockwork being held hostage– Had Pariah been in Long Now at the same time as Danny?  Or was Clockwork only anticipating–  Why didn’t Clockwork escape?  Did Pariah have something over him, like the Observants did?

It didn’t matter!  What mattered was that Clockwork was in trouble and Danny had to help him.

He pulled sharply away from the Observants, ignoring their protests (where had they been taking him, anyway?) and flew for Long Now at top speed.  Even if he was wrong, even if the Observants were wrong, he should talk to Clockwork first.  Even if Clockwork couldn’t tell him anything.  Just to put his mind at ease.  

If nothing was wrong, the Observants could catch up later.  

Danny reached Long Now.  The doors that usually swung wide the moment he approached stayed stubbornly shut, even as he pushed on them.  The sick feeling that had taken up residence in Danny’s chest pushed higher.  None of this was right.

He landed on the threshold and transformed, his stance wavering slightly as the ground beneath him rippled, dithering on whether or not it should hold him.  He had never tried this on Long Now before.  He’d never needed to.  But it had to work.  

Putting his hands in front of him Danny stepped forward.  To his relief, his hands sunk into the thick doors as if they were an illusion.  He crossed the doors quickly, emerging into the great entry hall.

Shadows played against the walls, the light of his rings briefly providing greater illumination, but the hall soon fell dark again, leaving Danny’s uncertain, anxious aura as the main source of light.  Danny supposed Clockwork must only turn the lights here on when he expected guests.  It gave the room a much more foreboding atmosphere than it usually had on Danny’s visits.  

Which was stupid because Danny was a ghost.  He liked the dark.  

… Except the lights had been on when Danny had come in while astral projecting.  

Something was really wrong.  

Danny held his breath, listening.  Ghosts could be utterly silent, and Long Now’s gears, pendulums, and bells weren’t quiet, but conversation always made noise.  So did fights.  Danny couldn’t imagine Clockwork as a cooperative prisoner, anyway.  

Cautiously, Danny drifted forward, hyperaware.  If Pariah was here, attacks could come from any direction.  

He picked open doors at random and followed hallways by instinct.  Half an hour in, and Danny started to wonder if Clockwork was even there, if Pariah Dark hadn’t literally spirited him away, if Pariah hadn’t somehow trapped Clockwork in a prison like the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.  

But then he heard something.  A clink that certainly wasn’t from the machinery of the tower, then something like a murmur.  Deep voices.  

He was off like a bullet from a gun, twisting down halls and through doors at speed.  

As much as he liked to forget, as much as he pushed it down and away, Pariah Dark had nearly killed him.  He wasn’t going to let him hurt anyone else.  Especially not Clockwork.  

He barreled into a room he’d never seen before.  A long table set for two sprawled across the space, the silverware glimmering in flickering candlelight.  Roses spilled over every surface, their petals flecked with wax from the candles floating above them.  

Pariah Dark sat at one side of the table, looming large and angry - although he was smaller than he had been the last time Danny had seen him - with knife and miniscule fork clenched in his hands like weapons.  Somewhat hysterically, Danny noted the crumpled remains of slightly-larger forks to the side of the plate.  

On the other side of the table was Clockwork, sitting small, hunched, defensive– but not looking particularly frightened.  

Whatever.  Clockwork was usually good at hiding his feelings.  It was annoying.  

Danny landed on the middle of the table and fired several ectoblasts at Pariah Dark in quick succession.

Pariah, perhaps predictably, batted them away.  

“Was your earlier victory not enough, child, that you must seek me out within a week of my freedom?”

“It has been more than a week,” snapped Clockwork.  “Perhaps if paid any attention to time–”

“Oh, now it’s my fault that someone has broken into your lair.”

“I’m not the one who’s broken in, king jerk!” said Danny, ignoring the fact that he had, in fact, broken in.  That was fine.  He had a standing invitation.  “Leave Clockwork alone!”

“Would that I could, child, but he makes it rather difficult to do so.”  

“Daniel–”

Danny threw a small iceberg at Pariah, and was gratified to see him swept off his feet.  

“Come on, Clockwork, we have to go–!” said Danny, turning.  

Clockwork had not gotten up.  If Danny didn’t know better, he looked rather defeated.  Or perhaps hunted.  

“Clockwork?” asked Danny, hating how weak his voice sounded.  His fear had, it seemed, caught up with him.

“Ah, I see now,” said Pariah Dark, freeing himself from the ice with a crack.  “I see why you were suddenly so eager to formalize our divorce.”  

“Divorce?” interjected Danny.  Maybe it meant something else to ghosts?

“You haven’t even told the child-” the word was said in a much different tone than before, “about us?”  He gave Clockwork a rather nasty grin, then looked at Danny.  “I will take my leave, as you insist.  We will, I think, finish this in court, dearest.”

“Wait!” shouted Clockwork, stretching out a hand.  

Pariah Dark pulled his cloak around him and vanished.  

That… hadn’t been what Danny had expected.  At all.  But it wasn’t what was important right now.  He flew to Clockwork’s side, even as Clockwork collapsed back into the chair.  

“Are you okay?” asked Danny, checking Clockwork over visually.  “Did he do anything to you?”

“Nothing he has not done before,” said Clockwork.  “Curse him.”

“Okay,” said Danny.  Then his brain finally caught up to what Pariah had said.  “Clockwork?  Did he…  Did he make you marry him?” he asked, horrified.  

“What?  No.  Despite his uncountable negative qualities, he never crossed that line.”  Clockwork’s tone was so bitter it made Danny’s mouth go dry.  “I was… Once, many years ago, I was quite willing to love him, more fool I.”  

“I don’t understand,” said Danny.  “He– You were married to him?”

“Unfortunately, I still am,” said Clockwork, slumping further.  “Curse the man.  And curse the Observants.  I was so close–  I assume they told you Pariah was out?”

“Well, yeah,” said Danny.  “They were kind of worried about, you know, the all-conquering tyrant king of ghosts getting out.”

Clockwork scoffed.  “Even in defeat, he was so self-aggrandizing.”

There was so much to unpack there.  “Clockwork, how did he get out?  And why did you decide to do…”  He gestured at the room.  “Whatever this is.  Is it really that important that you get divorced?”

“Oh, Daniel,” said Clockwork.  “You have no idea.”  Clockwork patted Danny’s hand.  “Perhaps I should have told you before.”  He laughed without humor.  “Then this could have been avoided.”

Danny sucked in his lips.  He’d never heard Clockwork sound quite like this.  “What happened, Clockwork?” he asked.

Clockwork covered his eyes with one hand, but, nonetheless, began to speak.  

.

Eight days ago…

.

Clockwork returned to Long Now and sunk to the floor.  What bad timing.  What poor luck, that Danny would stumble across that particular dream, even if it hadn’t quite taken the usual form. 

Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised.  Daniel did tend to warp probability into fantastic shapes, most likely a product of Clockwork’s time powers rubbing off on him.  Bonded ghosts tended to share powers, consciously or otherwise.  

Speaking of powers, when Clockwork was less unsettled, he would talk with Danny some more about his latest power.  It was one of his own, unique.  Neither Clockwork nor his… nor any other ghost Daniel was bonded to had something like that, although it was possible that Clockwork would develop one now; the sharing effect did not flow solely from parent to child.  Hah, he could just imagine Nocturne’s face on learning that Clockwork had such a power.  

He imagined other, less safe faces learning about such a power.  About Danny's power.  He imagined what they would do, what they could do with such a power.

It could not be allowed to come to pass.  

Clockwork sprung up.  He would need to make certain arrangements to even have a chance at success.  He flew from room to room, increasingly manic.  

The Observants would have to be managed.  They would see an acceptable risk and an unacceptable one, but they did not know him like Clockwork did.  

Daniel could not be involved.  Doubtless, what Clockwork was about to do would put strain on their relationship, but it was for the best.  If he became aware of Daniel…

The Observants would try to drag Daniel in, though, and Daniel would want to visit.  Barring him from doing so for as long as this would take would do far worse to their relationship than simply lying to him.  Daniel understood the importance of lies.  

He would have to be in two places at once.  At least.  Spacetime had to be maintained throughout all this.

Time twisted, folded, tore, and an even dozen of Clockwork's not-quite-duplicates popped into being.  He took a moment to close his eyes and ease away a slight dizziness.  

The amount and quality of sleep he'd managed before Daniel interrupted him were far from sufficient.  Nonetheless, he would have to make do.  Until he eliminated the problem he'd identified, there was no chance of him sleeping again.  

All the more reason to take care of this quickly. 

He dismissed his duplicates to their respective tasks and turned to the doors.  The place he was going had been engineered to reject portals, even his.  

Especially his.  

.

Although Clockwork had almost certainly been one of the beings in mind when the defenses of Pariah's prison were constructed, they did little to slow him.  Few traps were unavoidable, given proper timing, and Clockwork’s timing was impeccable.  As always.  

Far too soon for his liking, Clockwork looked up at the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.  It looked exactly like it had in his dream, unsurprisingly.  His dreams were, if not always coherent, then accurate in terms of symbolism. 

He closed his eyes, steadying himself.

The next barrier here was the key.  Clockwork had not bothered to get the Skeleton Key before he came.  There was no point.  The key had been here in the past, and therefore, for Clockwork, it was here now.  He held his hand up to the keyhole and tugged the key forward through time, just for a split second.  Neither the Daniel nor the Vladimir of back then would notice, each one too absorbed in their own worries.  

The lock clicked.  

Smoke poured from the crack between the lid and the back of the sarcophagus.  The hinges creaked, groaned, screamed.  

After Daniel defeated him, and he lost the Ring of Rage, the Crown of Fire, and, most importantly, the Mandate of the Infinite, the right of rule, Pariah Dark had lost much of his power.  Should have lost much of his power.  Clockwork would be more than capable of containing him.  

That did not make this any less nerve-wracking.  

The lid slammed the rest of the way open.  Clockwork stood his ground, even as Pariah, in his most annoyingly, overdramatically large form loomed over him.

“Clockwork, my dearest betrayer,” said Pariah, through gritted teeth.  The language he spoke had been dead so long that even in the Ghost Zone, few spoke it.  “What a surprise.  To what do I owe this dubious honor?”

The moment of truth.  

Clockwork took a deep breath.  “I want a divorce.”

.

“Why now?” asked Pariah, dangerously soft.  “Hundreds of years I have been imprisoned.  Why do you only seek me out now?”  He reached towards Clockwork’s face, but Clockwork batted his hand away with his staff.  

“Perhaps,” said Clockwork, “I only now feel safe enough to do so.  I have no desire to be your plaything again.”

“Please,” said Pariah.  “If anyone was playing it was you, Master of Time.  Playing with my trust, my heart.”

Clockwork bared his teeth.  “And you are stalling.  Will you divorce me or no?”

Pariah sneered and strode away from Clockwork, examining the room.  “You seem awfully eager for someone who has waited so long.”

“I do not want to drag this out.  Or resort to the court.”

“And I do not want to be forced back into that box as soon as you get what you want,” snapped Pariah, whirling and jabbing a finger at the sarcophagus.  “Is that not what happened last time, dearest?”

“Only you would think that any of that was something I wanted.”

“You certainly fought like it was.”

“I fought for my freedom,” said Clockwork.  “Do you really want to drag this through the court?  Put our futures in the hands of the judges?”

“For my freedom?  You can be assured of that.  But,” –he found a piece of rubble and sat on it as if it were a throne– “perhaps I can be convinced otherwise.”

.

Unsurprisingly, no one was happy about Clockwork’s decision.  Not Pariah.  Not the Observants.  Not even Clockwork himself.  He had never wanted this.  Preferably, Pariah would have been left to rot.  

“You must see reason, Clockwork!” said the Observants, again and again, whenever he was forced to interact with them through duplicates.  “Throw him back in the sarcophagus!  You are capable of it, now that he is no longer king!”

Clockwork didn’t answer, the last time he had listened to the Observants about Pariah had not ended well, either.  

At least Daniel did not know.  At least Daniel did not press.  

.

“I want you to tell me why you betrayed me,” said Pariah.  

“I did not betray you,” said Clockwork with ill grace.  They were repeating things now, and had been for days.

“I would say the years have made you dishonest,” said Pariah, “but you were always that way, even if I could not see it.  A treacherous little seducer.”  His lips curled.  “At least you kept your looks.”

Clockwork skin prickled with sickness.  He did not want to know that Pariah still found him attractive.  

“What do you want, Pariah?” asked Clockwork.  “You cannot possibly still want me, for all your,” he wrinkled his nose, “comments and denials.  But you have not even made a counteroffer.”  

He had been convinced that Pariah would demand his freedom, demand that Clockwork would swear off any support of future attempts to put him back where he belonged.  But instead they  had been having this labyrinthine conversation, over and over, pausing only when one or the other stormed away.

“What would you do, I wonder, if I did still want you?” asked Pariah, resting his cheek on his fist.

“That is hardly conducive to a divorce,” said Clockwork.  “Nor do I believe that is what you want.”

Pariah's eyes met his.  "Give me a reason, Clockwork.  Tell me why."

"Why what?"  Clockwork's hands tightened around his staff.  

"Why any of it?  Why help the Observants?  Why begin this divorce farce now?"

"I told you already," said Clockwork.  

“The corner of your mouth twitches when you lie,” said Pariah.  

Clockwork, stupidly, put a hand over the lower part of his face.  Pariah laughed.  

“What if,” said Pariah, standing to circle Clockwork, “I wanted it all back.  What we once had.”

“Impossible.”

“Impossible for the Master of Time?  How often have you turned back the clock?”

“Not my own,” said Clockwork.  

“Oh?”  Pariah’s finger tapped the glass door set in Clockwork’s chest.  “Perhaps I could help with that.”

Clockwork backed away, quickly, tail lashing back and forth.  “I think not.”

“Not even for just a day?” said Pariah, tone wheedling.  Clockwork was forcibly reminded of times past, when they were courting, when things had been happier.  “A memory of better times?” he asked in an echo of Clockwork’s thoughts. 

This.  This was why he needed the divorce.  This was why Pariah could never find out about Danny, could never be allowed that power.  

“A day as we once were,” said Pariah.  “Then, I will… acquiesce.”

“I could throw you back into the Sarcophagus,” said Clockwork.  

“Resorting to threats, hm?  No, I do not think you will.  You want this enough to let me out in the first place, and…”  He smiled, slowly.  “And you are in a hurry, my dear.  Let me have my fun.”

Clockwork hissed.  He hated the idea of even pretending to love Pariah Dark again.  “Surely,” he said, “you have other demands.”

“Oh, to retain my freedom? I have no illusions about whether you would truly agree to that.  You are a slippery little thing, and you would find the smallest loophole to slither through.  This, at least, I will get.  I think… that dinner we had, after the surrender of White Mountain.  I think that would be a good memory to revisit.”

“Very well,” said Clockwork stiffly.  “I will… begin the preparations.”

“See that you do, my dear.”

.

“And I messed that up,” said Danny.  

“It is not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I should have told you,” said Clockwork.  “This is my doing.”  He rubbed his hand across his eyes.  

“But… I don’t really get it.”

“Which part?”

“Well, a lot of parts, really.  How you and Pariah Dark could ever be a couple, for one, but also… I don’t understand how he has a- a bond with me at all.”

“My fault as well,” said Clockwork with a humorless laugh.  “I was… I never wished to deal with him again.  I thought I could continue as I had been.  I thought I could reach for the future without facing the past.”  He pushed a strand of hair back from Danny’s face.  “Alas.  Your bond with him is through me.  As I am still linked with him as his husband, your core could sense it, and forged a link of its own.  I did not think it would ever be relevant.”

“It…”  Danny hesitated, because this really was a crappy situation, and he couldn’t deny that.  “You were trying to do what you thought was right.  I mean, it isn’t any worse than some stuff I’ve done.  I guess I get it from you?  I sure don’t get it from him.”

“Goodness, Daniel,” said Clockwork with a bit of a laugh.  “I certainly hope not.”

“So… what is he going to do now?  Can you see?  He’s not going to run around and start conquering places, is he?”  

“As I said, he was substantially weakened by his defeat at your hands, so I doubt he will seek out any battles.  Unfortunately, the… closer I am to someone the less clearly I can see their future.  But from his comment, I would assume he is taking the matter to the courts, who will oversee our divorce.”

“And by overseeing, what do you mean?  Do you guys have, like, ghostly bank accounts?  He’s not going to try to get half of Long Now, is he?”

“There are certain assets that ghosts, when divorcing, must divide, and often there are conditions and such, bargaining for fairness, but the main purpose of such courts is severing the associated bonds, and determining if they should be severed.  Normally, both bonded must agree to the severance.  In any case…  I am more worried he will attempt to gain custody of you, Daniel, than for any of my other possessions.”

“But that’s the Observants, right?  They wanted me to come fight him, so I don’t think they’ll help him, right?”

Clockwork’s grimace spoke volumes. 

.

“Clockwork and Pariah Dark - the ghost king, Pariah Dark - are about to have a custody battle over you?” asked Jazz, after cleaning out her ears.  

“Maybe,” said Danny.  It had been a couple of days since he’d found out, and he’d been trying to figure out what to do about it, and he’d finally come up with something, but…  He needed Jazz’s help.  

“But didn’t you say the Observants wanted you to fight him?  Why would they let him sue for custody?”

Danny leaned against the bathroom door and folded his arms.  “Apparently it’s a different group that does family court.  Not Observants.”

Jazz lowered her head to rest against the counter.  “On one hand, I can understand that.  On the other…”

“Yeah, I know.”  Danny sighed.  “So, anyway, I’m going to try and find him before any trials start.  Mom and Dad should still have his ectosignature on file, but I need help with the boo-merang.”

“Find him and…?”

“Beat him up.”

“Did you talk about this with Clockwork?”

“Not really,” said Danny.  

“Danny…”

“I know, I know, but Clockwork is really torn up about this whole thing.  I don’t want to make it worse.”

“Pariah nearly killed you, Danny.”

"I know, but he's weaker, now.  I think I can take him."

"And then what?  He's already in the Ghost Zone."

"Put him back in the Sarcophagus?" suggested Danny.  

"Won't he still be able to learn your power like that?  If he's still… bonded?"

"Yeah, that's the term Clockwork used."

"Bonded to you."  She made a face.  "I don't really like the idea of all these ghosts making 'bonds' with you and then saying they have custody of you, you know."

"It's just Clockwork."

"Who didn't tell you that you'd be bound to Pariah Dark through him.  I don't suppose you know if ghosts have anything about the emancipation of minors."

Danny straightened, aghast, and let his arms fall to his sides.  "No, I don't know," he said, "and I don't want that, anyway."

"Okay, but you can use it as a bargaining chip.  In case things don't go Clockwork's way.  How much do you know about the Ghost Zone's legal system, anyway?"

"How much free time do you think I have?"

Jazz sighed.  "I don't know.  I thought Clockwork might be teaching you something about it."

"We're mostly going over history."

"Great.  Do you even know where to find this stuff out?"

"Clockwork's library?"

"Okay, then.  As soon as Mom and Dad are asleep, we're going."

"W- what?  But Pariah could be there!"

"What happened to you being able to take him?"

"Yeah, but you being there is different!"

"How?"

"Because then you're there, and you could get hurt!"

“He could very well come here, too, couldn’t he?  He dragged the whole town through, last time.  This way, I’ll be with you.”

Oh, sometimes he hated how easy it was for Jazz to argue with him.  She knew him too well!

He groaned.  “Fine.”

.

Jazz chewing out Clockwork made Danny, in a word, uncomfortable.  If he got two words, then he’d say anxious and uncomfortable.  

He pulled out another book and skimmed over the title, not entirely registering it.  It might have been on ghost law… but probably not.  

“You metaphysically bound my little brother to a murderous megalomaniac!”

Danny itched to help, but…  He wasn’t nearly skilled enough to stop the argument, and he wasn’t sure what side he should take.  None of this really seemed fair.  

But maybe…  “Guys?” he called.  “I need some help over here!  I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

A pause.  Silence.  

“This isn’t over,” said Jazz, quietly enough that Danny could hardly hear her, even with his sharper-than-human ears.  

“Quite,” replied Clockwork.  

.

“So, it’s just based on the judges’ opinion?  There’s no- no precedent or rules?”

“Ultimately,” said Clockwork, “all social laws are a matter of opinion.  That those with the power to enforce them think that they are right.”

“Or they’re agreed on,” said Jazz.  

“Is agreement not simply a method of expressing an opinion?”

“But it shouldn’t be too hard to convince the judges that you’re better off divorced and that I’m better off with you, right?  Everyone hated Pariah, right?”

“Hm,” said Clockwork.  “Not exactly.”

Oh, that did not sound auspicious.

.

In the end, Jazz and Danny went home unsatisfied and tired.  There really were no loopholes or tricks.  It was simple, almost brutal in its straightforwardness.  

Danny… he couldn’t say that he wasn’t worried.  Clockwork had spoken at length about ‘interregnums’ and ‘old loyalties’ and ‘sleepers,’ and Danny knew that he was trying to be reassuring as well as truthful, but it hadn’t really worked.  

There didn’t seem to be anything he could really do, however, until the trial started.  Both Clockwork and Jazz were in agreement that Danny facing off against Pariah was a bad idea.  

So, he went to sleep in his bed.  

He woke up somewhere else.  

He blinked at the light his tired eyes were assaulted with.  Flashes of green and red danced beneath his eyelids.  This wasn’t the first time he’d woken up in a strange place with no memory of how he’d gotten there, but it sure was annoying.  

“Ah, the point of contention wakes.  What is your preferred name, little apple?”

“Mh?” said Danny, squinting at the ghost floating in front of him.  

“A strange name, to be sure.”

“What, no, that’s not my name.  Who are you?”

“I am the one who presides over matters of failed love,” said the ghost.  She smiled, rather toothily.  “You may call me Eris.”

“Uh,” said Danny.  “Okay.”  He pushed himself up in the chair he was sprawled in and looked around the room.  

It was medium-sized.  Almost cozy.  It was roughly divided into four sections.  One was raised up a bit, with a long, altar-like desk on it.  Two of the other sections were separated from one another by the fourth, the one that Danny was sitting in, and walled off.  

Clockwork and Pariah Dark were sitting inside them, arms crossed and sulking, inside spherical, glittering, golden shields.  Mirrors of one another.  

“Um,” said Danny.  

“We’ve been at this nonstop for a few days now,” said Eris, circling around behind Danny and then leaning forward so that her golden hair tickled his shoulder.  “We’ve gotten them to agree that they despise each other, but each of them wants you.  My favorite circumstances.”

“Nonstop?  A few days?” asked Danny.  “But, Clockwork, I just saw you yesterday.”

Clockwork shifted guiltily inside his bubble.  “I did not want you to worry,” he said, “and there is little point in being able to duplicate if one does not use the ability.”

“Ha!” said Pariah Dark, pointing.  “So, you admit to being untruthful to our child!”

“My child!”  

“Soon to be my child!”

“Don’t act like you had anything to do with raising him!”

At this point, they shifted into a language Danny didn’t know.  However, from the tone, Danny could conclude that the ‘conversation’ was pure invective.  

“Now, now,” said Eris, gleefully, “we want our little apple to be able to understand what’s going on, now don’t we?  Let’s keep it to English, shall we?”  She floated away, and settled behind the raised desk, just slightly off center.  “So, little apple, what is your name?”

“Danny Phantom,” said Danny, finally getting himself sitting up straight.  He looked to his left, then his right, at Clockwork and Pariah, both of whom were glaring venomously at one another.  “Look, I don’t want to go with Pariah Dark.  I don’t know him.  I don’t like him.  He tried to kill me once.  Can I go?”

Eris raised a hand and tilted it back and forth.  “A truly moving speech.  Alas.  It is, how should I put this?  Insufficient.”

At this point, a side door, one that Danny hadn’t noticed, opened and a ghost wearing a dress made out of peacock feathers floated through.  “The child is awake, then?” she asked, before sitting next to Eris.  

As she spoke, the door behind her smoothed back into a wall.  Danny looked around.  The room had no doors.  

“Yep, I’m awake,” said Danny.  “Awake, and wanting nothing to do with Pariah Dark.”

“Danny Phantom, Hera.  Hera, Danny Phantom,” introduced Eris.  

Hera frowned, her brow wrinkling.  “You want nothing to do with your other parent?  One of the two who nurtures your soul?”

“Nope,” said Danny.  “Barely know him, plus, he tried to kill me.”

“A grave accusation indeed,” said Hera, turning sorrowful eyes on Pariah.  “What say you?”

“At the time,” said Pariah, “he was yet to be bound to my once-beloved.  But he proved himself a worthy adversary, and I found myself intrigued.  In any case, it has been difficult, getting to know him whilst locked away.”

Clockwork hissed.  “As if you weren’t locked away for good reason.”

“Oh, dear,” said Hera, raising her hand to cover her face.  “What anger between two ghosts bound in sacred matrimony.”  

Was she crying?

“I know,” said Eris, grinning.  

“What a horrible disconnect between parent and child!” Hera wailed.  “This is why divorces are such terrible things, and why we should all work towards blessed reconciliation.”

“Not my parent!  He’s really not my parent.  Even if Clockwork weren’t here, I still have two perfectly fine human parents!”

“Oh,” said Eris, “should we bring them here as well?”

“NO!” shouted Danny, Clockwork, and Pariah.  

“Eris, dear, we only have dominion over the affairs of ghosts.  What happens between humans is beyond us.”

“Oh, alright, alright.  You never let me have any fun.”

“Wait,” said Danny, pointing at Pariah, “why does he care about whether or not my real parents are here?”

“Your parents were the ones to build that suit, yes?” asked Pariah.

“Yeah,” said Danny.  

“Because they are insane, that is why.”

Danny scowled.  He got that from everyone in Amity Park.  He didn’t need it from Pariah Dark, too.  “That–”

“Perhaps this child can mend what we cannot,” said Hera, interrupting.

“I hope not,” said Eris.  “But, sure.  Let’s give him a chance.  What were you thinking?”

“The child should know both sides of the story,” said Hera.  

“Yeah, okay, that sounds like fun.”

Hera nodded solemnly.  “I think it is something we would all benefit from.  Including these two sadly estranged lovers.  Perhaps by seeing the other perspective, love will again blossom in their hearts, and they shall reconcile.”

“If we have not done so yet,” said Clockwork, audibly gritting his teeth, “we are not going to do so now.  We have been going over this so-called ‘other perspective’ the entire time we have been incarcerated here.”

“And what do you know of incarceration?  You’ve been running free with those pests you call a legal system for centuries, while I have been imprisoned, and for what?”

“You know for what, you tyrant!”

“Now, now,” said Eris, “if you go like this, he won’t understand.  You two have to start from the beginning.”  

.

Shadows played across the Zone as Clockwork led his merry band of traitors forward.  He, the very image of Delilah, had told his accomplices all of his lover’s weaknesses, and intended to make use of them.  His forbidden powers would serve them well in the coming battle.  

Behind them, a pair of lesser ghosts carried the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, the dread prison that would–

.

“That’s not the beginning,” complained Eris, leaning back to examine her nails.  “That’s not even the beginning of your breakup.”  There was a glint in her eye that indicated that she was far more invested in this than she was acting.  

“Well, it was the beginning for me,” said Pariah with a huff.

“I cannot believe that you would continue this farce of not knowing what you did even after all this time,” said Clockwork, leaning forward out of his seat  “It’s infuriating!”

“I’m not a mind-reader!  How am I supposed to know what you think is justification for stabbing me in the back?”

“Fine.  I will start, if you cannot manage to reflect on yourself.”

.

Clockwork paced anxiously through the galleries of the palace.  It was far from any of the battlefields.  Safe, Pariah had said.  But distant, too.  Distant, and isolated.  How long had it been since Clockwork had seen anything beyond its walls?  How long would it be before he would be able to travel beyond them?

He lifted a hand to feel the expertly tooled leather of his eyepatch.  How long?  How long would he be forced to be like this?

“Prince-consort,” said a familiar voice, making Clockwork jump, “may we have a word?  There is something you should–”

.

“That isn’t the beginning, either!” said Eris.  “You guys are bad at this.  No wonder you’re breaking up.”

“Then what do you think is the beginning?” asked Clockwork.  

Hera sighed.  “The beginning is the beginning,” she said.  “The beginning of you.  As a couple.”

“Yeah,” said Eris, holding up a finger on each hand, “in order to split, you have to be together,” she brought her hands together, “first.”  

“So,” said Hera, “please, start at the beginning of your relationship.”

.

Clockwork twitched at his slate-gray robes.  It was an honor to be here, to be chosen from all the other seers to accompany their speaker at the convocation of lords.  But he was nervous.  His order was growing weaker, he knew, the Observants gaining favor, and his performance here would determine much.  

He could see several outcomes, closing his eyes, both good and ill.  It was impossible to tell which one would win out.  

The meeting place was a huge, circular atrium, pointed at both the top and bottom, the attending ghosts in balconies inset in the sides.  Clockwork floated to the middle, behind his mentor, and cast his gaze about.  His eyes lingered here and there, catching first on Lady Pandora, then the intimidating Lord Thunder, and finally a relatively young ghost with milk-white skin and long curving horns.  That last ghost met Clockwork’s eyes directly, and he looked away blushing, before–

.

“No,” said Pariah.  “That wasn’t you!”

“What do you mean, that wasn’t me?  Of course it was me!”

“You looked completely different!”

“So did you!  I still knew who you were!”

“I don’t think meeting eyes across a crowded room counts as the beginning of a relationship unless you’re Romeo and Juliette.  Try again,” said Eris.  

“I will do it this time,” said Pariah Dark.  

.

He pressed his lips to Clockwork’s passionately–

.

“Oh, Ancients,” said Danny.  “No.  No, that is not a beginning, and I don’t want to hear this.  Oh my gosh.”

“You didn’t think our relationship started until we kissed?”

“What else starts a relationship?”

“Oh, I ought to–”

“Friends,” said Hera.  “Perhaps you ought to begin with when you first started courting?  And why?”

“Oh,” said Clockwork, “that’s easy.  We were formally introduced during Pariah’s ascension ball.”

“That’s the term you translate it to?  Ball?”

“What would you translate it to?”

There was silence.  

“Yeah, Pariah, what would you translate it to?”

“Just go on,” grumbled Pariah.  

“We were formally introduced then, and the Observants had just launched an attack on my order, so us remnants were very interested in alliance and protection with the new king.”

“Wait, are you telling me it was entirely political?” demanded Pariah.  

“Of course not!  You are– were also possessed of various… qualities.”

Danny covered his face.  This was the worst thing ever.  All of this.  

“In any case, that is when we were introduced, and when Pariah started to pursue me.”

“And your opinion of things, Pariah?” asked Hera.  

“He was attractive, at the time.”

Eris cackled.  “That wasn’t too hard, was it?  And how did things progress?”

Pariah opened his mouth.

“Not with a child here!” interrupted Clockwork.  

“Wow, that is already more information than I wanted,” said Danny.  He wondered if brain bleach actually existed in the Ghost Zone.  It had to.  Please.  He wasn’t sure he could half-live without it.

“And then what happened?” asked Hera.  

“Then I found out he was only using me for my foresight!”

“Using you?  I gave you everything!”

“You shut me away in a tower and stole my eye!”

“You gave it to me!”

“For one battle!  One!  And then you never gave it back!”

.

It looked like a jewel under the shifting light of the ghostly firmament.  Pariah Dark raised his gaze from it to the ectoplasm-covered hole in his lover’s face.  

“Clockwork…”

“It’s fine,” he said.  “It’s fine, my love.  But… You will need this.  For the next battle.  It will let you see what is to come.”

“It is your eye, Clockwork.”

“And if you will not let me be by your side, at least let me send this token with you.  You need it.  One battle, then come back to me.  Promise?”

“I promise,” said Pariah, swallowing back unease.  “One battle.”

Clockwork smiled, then hissed, covering his empty eye socket.  “I will need to get this covered, hm?”

.

Pariah Dark rode out to battle.  Once.  Twice.  Again.  

Clockwork could not see, but he could still hear the words of messengers, still listen to the news brought by travelers.  He knew that Pariah had broken his promise, but… there had to be a reason for that.  

A battle he could not leave.  A foe so great as to be insurmountable.  

.

He left the palace in the night.  If Pariah would not come to him, he would go to Pariah.  

He traveled in the dark, in shadows, under assumed names and faces, across countless realms.  He traveled, unceasing, to the side of his love.  To the one ghost he knew would always love him.  Who had sworn to always do so.  

He stood by Pariah’s tent, having come this far undetected.  Pariah’s sentries left something to be desired.  

He stepped past the door, his love’s name on his lips.  

Pariah whirled and pinned Clockwork to the rocky ground by his throat.

It lasted a split second, but the rage painting Pariah’s features branded themselves in Clockwork’s remaining eye.  Pariah released him, and called for the guards to take Clockwork back to the palace.  

This was no place for him.  

.

“And with my eye, he knew I was coming,” said Clockwork.  “He knew, and still he attacked me and put me away.”

“I sent you back to where it was safe!  And do you know how many times I was attacked by someone impersonating you?  I had to develop reflexes for it eventually!  There were reasons I didn’t want you on the front lines!”

“Excuses!  You sent me to a prison where you did not have to put your eyes on me!”

“If only I could put you in such a place now!”

“And what was this time like from your perspective?” asked Hera.  

.

Pariah’s head ached.  Was this how Clockwork saw the world at all times?  It was too much.  Reason enough for Pariah to understand why the seers only taught the secrets of foresight to those trained for it.  Pariah would be glad to return his eye to him after this battle.  

He put the eye aside and sighed in relief.  He could not sleep with it whispering visions directly into his mind.  

When he woke, he sought the eye out, but it was gone.

.

Clockwork was gaping.  “You mean to say, all of that was because you lost my eye and didn’t want to tell me?  How stupid are you?”

“I did not lose it!  It was stolen!  And I… did not wish to lose you, with it.”

“You would not have lost me over that,” said Clockwork, then he seemed to remember himself.  “But you have certainly lost me now.”

“Oh my gosh,” said Danny, burying his face in his hands.  Neither of them could admit they’d messed up, could they?  No wonder they’d broken up.

“Wow,” said Eris, echoing Danny’s thoughts, “no wonder you guys broke up.”

“I was going to get it back,” said Pariah.  “That’s why I needed you to wait.  Instead, what do you do?  You stab me in the back!”

“I did wait!  I waited years upon years as you ignored me and kept secrets from me and became crueler and crueler to even peaceful peoples!”

.

“Prince-consort,” said a familiar voice, making Clockwork jump, “may we have a word?  There is something you should know about.”

Clockwork turned away from the plant he was pruning to face Frostbite, emissary from the Far Frozen. 

“Something I should know about?  You know I have very little power.”

“You are the last of the true seers.  You have more power than you think,” said Frostbite.  

“Not anymore,” said Clockwork, resisting the urge to touch his eyepatch as he stood.  “What do you wish to speak of?”

“King Dark launched an attack on Caer Crys a fortnight ago.”

Clockwork stilled.  Crys was an ally.  Had been an ally.  What Frostbite said was far from impossible.  

“They are not the only ally he has attacked in the past months, claiming that they betrayed him, or that they are hiding his enemies.  We believe he will break his faith with us within the next month.”

Clockwork spread his hands.  “What do you expect me to do?  As I said, I am powerless.”

“We have opened a dialogue with the Observants.”

Clockwork bared his teeth.  “Those faithless monsters who murdered my kin?”

“Most of those are gone, now,” said Frostbite, “but they wish to speak with you.  They say they have something of yours that you may wish to regain.  Something that Pariah traded to them for their loyalty.”

This time, Clockwork didn’t stop himself from reaching up.

.

“And you believed that?”

“Frostbite did, and I saw no reason to doubt him,” said Clockwork.  “Perhaps, if I had word to the contrary from you I wouldn’t have believed it!”

“Hey, little apple.  You’ve been quiet through all of this.  What do you think?”

Danny looked up.  “I think you haven’t said anything about why you were attacking your allies.”

“Oh, yes.  Well.  I did that.  But that has no bearing on our marriage or my relationship with you, my child.”

“Still not your child.”

“You kind of are, though,” said Eris.  

“Oh, come now.  You expect me to believe you didn’t have a reason after all of that?” demanded Clockwork.  “After all your other excuses?”

“Ah, you defend your husband, your other half.  I knew you could heal the rift between you,” said Hera, clasping her hands.  

“I take it back,” said Clockwork, throwing himself back down into his seat and shifting into his ‘infant’ form.  

“Ah!  That!” said Pariah pointing. “He always does that when he wants to put me off!  Shouldn’t we talk about that, instead?”

Danny narrowed his eyes.  Something about the flow of the conversation…  “Did you… attack your allies because you thought they were hiding Clockwork’s eye from you?”  No, that would be too ridiculous, even for this stupid couple.

“No,” said Pariah, drawing out the word unconvincingly.  

“Unbelievable!” hissed Clockwork.  “You did!  You caused this whole mess because you couldn’t be honest and say you made a mistake.  You could have gotten help!”

“Who would have helped me?”

“I would have!  Your allies would have, if you were not so intent on turning them into enemies and destroying your own work!  Everything gone to ruin and for what?”

“It was for you!  Because I loved you more than any hope at empire!”

Clockwork blushed a deep green.  “It was for your own pride!” he spat.

“Why did you even think your, um, allies had it, though?” asked Danny, curious despite himself.  

“I had intelligence that indicated it was so.”

“Intelligence from who?” asked Clockwork.  “No one trustworthy, obviously.”

“Obviously, since they joined you in stabbing me in the back.”

“Oh my gosh,” said Danny, “are you saying you were taking cues from the Observants?”

Pariah Dark opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.  “They were getting their information from the Observants,” he said.  “That makes so much sense.”

“You’ve had literal centuries to think about this and come to this conclusion,” said Clockwork, incredulous, “and obviously more information than I had.  What have you been doing?”

“I was asleep.  It is called the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, not the Sarcophagus of Nuanced Introspection.”

“You were both taking cues from the Observants,” said Danny, with something in-between awe and disgust.  

Clockwork sniffed.  “I did what I thought was right to stop a tyrant.”  

“I was no tyrant, I–”

“Clearly you were, if you attacked innocents for such little cause,” said Clockwork, but Danny could tell that his heart wasn’t entirely in it.

“Okay,” said Eris, “I’ve heard enough, I think.  Split them up, but also split custody.”

“But the only problem they’ve had is miscommunication,” said Hera.  “They should work together to repair their marriage.  We should help them with that.  I hear that humans have something called ‘marriage counseling.’”

Clockwork and Pariah Dark started shouting.  

“Huh,” said Eris.  “Actually, I’m coming around to your way of thinking.  Guess they should come back here?  Air their grievances?”

Hera smiled.  “Oh, I knew you would come around to my way of thinking, dear.  We’ll be seeing all three of you in a week, yes?”

.

Next thing Danny knew, he was floating in the green of the Ghost Zone, next to Clockwork and Pariah Dark.  

He heard Clockwork inhale, and, explosively, say, “Fu–”

Pariah slammed his hand onto Clockwork’s mouth.  “The child, Clockwork!”

.

Danny went home.  Before he did this, he had to convince two stupidly powerful and combative ghosts not to follow him home.  

.

“Danny!” said Jazz, running down the stairs to greet him.  “You’ve been gone for days!  What happened?”

Danny groaned. “Ghost adoptions suck.”

.

Six months later…

.

Danny followed the pull of his core through the Ghost Zone.  This was the time of the week he was able to visit Clockwork and learn about the Ghost Zone… and cuddle.  He had to admit he really liked the cuddling part.  

Apparently, that was part of the ‘bond’ thing.  Danny really would have liked it if Clockwork had told him about that before the whole ‘custody battle’ thing.  As it was, he sort of understood why he didn’t.  Pariah was scary, and Clockwork had clearly been traumatized by his experiences.

But as he flew on, he noticed that the bond wasn’t pulling him towards Long Now, but somewhere else entirely.  Somewhere that had become far too familiar to him over the past few months.  He noticed, also, that the weaker bond he shared with Pariah pulled him in the same direction.  He groaned.  

‘Marriage counseling’ had a horrible and unfortunate effect on Clockwork and Pariah, and although they were insisting on being ‘separated,’ well…  

If Danny ended up at Pariah's Keep while trying to visit Clockwork one more time, he was going to go insane.

Pariah’s Keep came into view and Danny sighed.  Insanity here he comes.  

As Danny flew closer, he began to hear shouting, and Clockwork flew out.  

“So,” said Danny.  “Date night not going well?”

Clockwork wiped a sour look off his face.  “As well as can be expected, I suppose.”

He opened his eyes and saw nothing but white. White ceiling. White walls. White sheets.

He wrinkled his nose finding it all very unappealing.

He tried to sit up but a sharp pain in the crook of his left arm stopped him.

There was movement to his right, a nurse walked into the room and stopped when she saw him looking at her.

"Oh! You're awake!"

He tried to talk, but his voice cracked and died on the way out. He had so many questions bubbling inside him but all he could do was make faces and grunt in a vain attempt at being understood.

She nodded as she checked the different machines and equipment around him as if he was actually making any sense. "Don't worry dear, your doctor will be here soon and explain everything."

He was surprised that worked.

It wasn't long before the doctor came and informed him that he had been in a coma for a month.

Then the doctor asked what he remembered.

He thought for a moment.

Then a little longer.

He figured falling into a coma would be more memorable. Since he had nothing, he just shrugged at the doctor.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember what happened.” the doctor reassured.

He nodded then bit his lip as a question popped in his mind that he wasn’t sure how to answer. Or how to ask.

“Something on your mind?” the doctor asked as if he could read his thoughts.

“It’s just,” he hesitated as he tried to word it right, “someone is waiting for me right? Someone’s here that can take me home?”

The doctor looked concerned, "Your parents are just outside. Did you want me to get them now?"

He nodded and the nurse took the opportunity to remove the IV in his arm.

A couple walked into the room and they smiled at him.

He looked from them back to the doctor.

"You don't recognize them do you?"

"I'm sorry." He felt awful. What kind of son forgets his parents. As if he didn't put them through enough already with the coma.

The nurse placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze.

“I was worried about that.” the doctor muttered to themselves before addressing the room, “It’s not uncommon for cases like this to lead to memory loss. But luckily ‘loss’ is a bit of a misnomer.”

His parents, he supposed, relaxed, but he was still confused. He didn’t know what that word meant. He figured he might as well ask.

“In this case, it just means that ‘loss’ doesn't mean ‘gone forever’. It’ll take time, but your memories should come back to you.”

He relaxed into the bed. That was really good news. “Is there a way to make it work?

“Not exactly. This isn’t something you can force.”

He slumped into the pillows more.

“But, I can give you some advice.”

He perked back up, hopeful.

“It will come in bursts and waves. The things around you will trigger memories. Sometimes it’s smells, other times it’s sounds. The memories might just be feelings or vague impressions and other times they might be full-on movie-style productions. It all just depends.” The doctor pulled up a chair next to the bed, “Your memories are like puzzle pieces that got knocked to the ground from a high table. It’s going to take time and a little help to find them all and make sense of the picture they make, but it’s not impossible.”

Then they asked if he remembered his name.

He didn’t.

His mom told him it was, Danny.

“Danny,” he repeated a few times with different inflections just to see how it felt. If it fits.

He nodded, satisfied that it did.

==============================================

It was odd that he needed a tour in his own house when he got there. He’d been expecting it, but he had been a little hopeful that it would at least seem a little familiar once he saw it again.

On his first night home, he had a weird dream. It wasn’t scary, just odd. He decided to tell his mom about it in the morning. The doctor had mentioned that his memories could surface in dreams and it was important to talk them through.

He sat at the kitchen table while his mom made coffee.

“There was this girl in my dream last night. She knew me. I guess I knew her too. I knew her name in the dream, but now I can’t quite remember it.”

“Oh?” his mom turned to him as she stirred her sugar in her mug. “Do you remember what letter it was? Or if it rhymed with another name?”

“I think it had to do with music? But that doesn't make sense, does it?”

His dad came in, kissed his mom on the top of her head as he reached for his mug, “Maybe it was Melody?” he guessed, “That’s a musical name.”

“Do I know a Melody?” he asked despite the name not sounding right at all.

“I don’t think so. Unless you met them at school.”

“That or you saw them in a movie.” his dad sat down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know the doc said you might have dream memories but that doesn't mean they all are. Some dreams might just be dreams.”

“Yeah I know,” Danny sighed, “But it just felt so real, you know?”

==============================================

It wasn’t until a few days later that he heard his parent’s names. They were waiting in the doctor’s office for a check-up on his progress when it happened.

“Matilda and James Fairchild,” The receptionist called, “the doctor is ready for Danny now.”

He dropped the magazine he was holding as the names buzzed around in his brain.

Matilda?

“Maddie.”

His mom turned to him confused, “What?”

“I thought your name was Maddie?”

She hesitated for only a second before recognition lit her eyes, “That’s what my mom called me. You remember Grandma?”

He shook his head. So far he hadn’t remembered anyone. “Just the name.”

His dad picked up the magazine off the floor, “It’s okay, Champ. These things take time. I’m sure you’ll have it all back soon.”

He knew that. He really did.

It just didn’t stop it from being so frustrating to be so close and yet so far.

==============================================

It wasn’t until he was alone with his therapist that she asks how it felt to hear his parent’s names. If they felt familiar like his own name had.

“Sort of. Like I’m trying to watch a 3D movie without the glasses on. I can tell what it is but it’s still a little off.” he leans back in his seat and continues, “the weird thing is when I have dreams about my parents I don’t see them as they are. I just see colors.”

“What colors do you see?”

“Teal and orange. Orange for dad and teal for mom.”

“That’s an interesting way to see them.”

“Yeah, but I really don’t like those dreams.”

“Why not?”

“Because they aren’t dreams.” he pulls his knees up to his chest in the chair but knew he couldn’t back out now. He has to just power through it so he can get better.

So he can remember.

“They’re nightmares.”

“Nightmares?”

“The orange one always towers over me. He’s so impossibly tall. The teal one has sharp hands, claws like razors. They’re always so angry. Always yelling at me. Calling me a monster.”

“Those two don’t sound like your parents at all.”

“I know! That just makes me even more confused.”

“Well, why don’t we try to reassociate your parents with something nicer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well if you’re dreaming them as colors, why don’t we pick new colors. Or maybe something else altogether?”

“Books,” he said simply. “Mom’s like a library full of books.”

“Nice, safe, and quiet. That’s a good comparison.” she notes it before looking up at him again, “and your dad? What’s he like?”

“Peaches? No, bugs.” he corrected then added quickly, “but not in a gross way, in a friendly way.”

The therapist squeezed her lips together in a tight line to suppress herself. She quickly covered her mouth and apologized. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I think I know what you’re thinking of.” she composed herself, “you’re making literary associations. Which is fine, and honestly still works for what we’re trying to do here, but I wasn’t expecting it is all.”

“Literary associations? What do bugs have to do with books?”

“Your parent’s names are the same as book characters in a couple of children’s stories.” Then she smiled fondly, "you know both of those stories have some themes in common. They're about kids who are raised in not-so-nice places, with bad caretakers, who escape from their dangerous homes and find new families. Find people who love them just as they are. Like family should."

He smiled and wondered if it meant anything that his parents' names were the same as stories with happy endings. "Do you think they love me like that?"

He wasn't sure why he was asking. He certainly hoped they did.

She laughed good-naturedly, "of course they do."

"But how do you know?"

Why was he so uncertain?

"It's the little things. You'll see."

==============================================

After he talked through his nightmares he stopped having them.

He was really glad he gave this therapy thing a try. Even if a part of him is still a little uneasy about it. Almost like he’s done something like it before.

But he knows he hasn’t. He had asked his mom and she said no.

Even if he was still having dreams about Melody. Or whatever her real name was.

He also had dreams about another person. Someone else who seemed to know him and dream him recognized. Although he wasn’t sure if they were one person or two. He wasn’t sure what to call them. Eventually, he called them Sawyer.

He figured he would continue with the literary theme. He wasn’t sure why he was so familiar with titular characters, but it felt right.

He didn’t tell his parents about Sawyer.

He wasn’t sure why.

Why he had an urge to hide this from them even though they’d done nothing but love and support him.

But keeping a secret from his parents felt familiar. He just wasn’t sure what secret he used to keep.

==============================================

It had been months and his memory was still a little spotty, but he was managing. He may not be sure about everything in his life but there were things he was sure of.

His name was Danny Fairchild.

His parents were Matilda and James. He got his dark hair and fair skin from his father while his mother passed on her blue eyes and button nose.

They lived in the small town of Salem City.

Due to his memory loss, he was home-schooled.