Amity Park: The Last City Standing

"Some of the best lessons we ever learn are from past mistakes. The error of the past is the wisdom and success of the future."

Warnings: language, timey-wimey fuck ups, seriously a lot of fuck ups, #Dashwhyareyoulikethis, season 3 has been slowly roasted for the good bits, TUE affected Danny more than canon showed, I have been wanting to write this story since 2010

Summary: Dash always knew, sooner or later, that the consequences of his recklessness would catch up with him. Danny always knew that a single mistake could cost him his family, friends, and future–he just never realized it didn't necessarily have to be his mistake. TUE AU

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"You know," Tucker pointed out, eyeing Danny as they walked through the stalls to catch up with the other students, "the last time we went to something like this, I ended up a green, jealous blob of artificial half-ghost."

Danny made a face at the woman trying to place necklaces on him. He dodged to the left to avoid her, bumping into Tucker who stumbled slightly. "Just avoid making any wishes and you should be fine."

Tucker laughed when his friend had to jump backwards to evade another eager seller. "At least this is good training for your reflexes. I can hear the reporters now: 'Danny Phantom, how did you manage to get this good at fighting ghosts?'" Tucker imitated, changing his voice to mock those of Danny's eager admirers. "'Oh, you know, just dodging old ladies in a market square. You see, their necklaces never seem to match the beautiful green of my eyes.'"

Danny punched his shoulder, snickering. "Shut up, dude."

Amity Park's newest idea was something both boys could get behind. Even better, Sam was supportive as well, but for different reasons. Their town was adjusting to the ostracization that came with claiming to be the "most haunted city in America," but they still needed the trade and income that came from tourists to boost their economy. The haunted appeal brought weirdoes looking for quick video proof who never contributed to the town no matter how long they stayed; so, the state of Illinois took pity on the small city and arranged a Cultural Fest to be held twice a month.

It was a time when Amity Park would invite anyone and everyone to bring their trade, food, and crafts to sell in their town. The festival also attracted neighboring shoppers into their boarders and soon the mayor preened like a peacock at his ingenious idea while the economy flourished.

"Isn't it wonderful that our town gets to experience the cultural and unique diversity of the rest of the world?" Sam expressed, eyes sparkling in a way that only happened when she imagined being adopted.

Danny eyed a rag made out of what looked like human hair in the stall next to them. "Yeah, I'm feeling the diversity."

"You know, they're only doing this for the money," Tucker pointed out, bluntly. He held up his hands in surrender when Sam glared at him. "Sorry, but Amity Park really does need it."

Sam huffed, turned her gaze to Danny. "Of course they do, Danny keeps leaving body-like imprints on the streets and buildings."

"Ah, yes," Danny answered, "because my body keeps throwing itself into walls."

They were currently a little way behind the rest of their classmates from Lancer's English replacement credit course in order to avoid the ire of the A-listers who were forced to join the course as well. Danny's grades were improving since Jazz aided his studying, but the ghosts were relentless and not even a full week of studying could help Danny if he kept falling asleep during the tests.

The students forced to take Lancer's replacement credit course during the first two weeks of summer were very few people the trio got along with. The A-listers were, of course, asked to join–as they spent too much time on extracurricular activities to balance their schoolwork–Valerie was here because ghost hunting got in the way of her studies as well, and Mikey was here, despite his straight As, because he loved school enough to sacrifice more of his summer to continue it.

The Junior students followed Lancer as he diligently checked the group to ensure they stayed together. His eyes were mostly on the trio in the back trying desperately to remain unnoticed so his lack of focus allowed two of his other students to slip off with ease.

Dash and Kwan snickered to each other as they separated from the group to explore the market. "Where to first?" Kwan asked, bouncing like a kid as he took in the colors of the surrounding plaza.

"See that old lady? Heard she has a fortune telling booth," Dash tugged on his sleeve and pointed behind them where the old woman in question was setting up her booth.

Kwan laughed and made spooky sounds to tease his friend, waving his fingers in his face. "Daaaaaaash, your future is meatbaaaaalls for dinneeeeer."

The blond shoved his friend. "C'mon, I want to know if I make Captain next year for the football team."

Kwan rolled his eyes. "Of course, it would be about football," he grumbled, following Dash anyways as they dodged various shoppers. "I wonder if I can ask about the answers to Lancer's upcoming test?"

"As if that would help you pass."

"Hey! I'm better than you at English, Mr. How-do-you-spell-'choose?'"

"The double o's are very confusing and you know it!"

The teasing slowed as they approached the old woman's stand, but Kwan continued to snicker at his friend's expense even as they stopped in front of the psychic. She paused, wrinkled hands raised above a stereotypical crystal ball.

Dash puffed up his chest as he introduced himself, trying to appear more mature than the juvenile 17-year-old surely looked. "Well, beautiful lady, it's your lucky day!" he expressed, grinning at the woman and leaning forward. "You get to read the fortune of The Dash Baxter."

From the moment those eyes glanced over at them, Kwan knew this was not going to go as well as Dash planned. The old woman hummed, eyeing Dash's smile with a disappointed look. "Inflated sense of self-importance," she voiced, hands carefully placed over her mouth as she tapped one finger on her upper lip. "How…. thoughtful of you."

Kwan watched as Dash's smile froze on his face. Knowing how his friend could get when people didn't act the way he wanted them to, he placed a hand on his shoulder to try and pull him back. "Excuse me?" Dash questioned with a level tone, ignoring the hand gripping him urgently.

"Leave," the old woman said, dismissing them with a wave. "I am preparing my booth and would enjoy a moment away from teenagers."

Stepping forward, Dash bent to the woman's level. "I said I wanted my future read, you crazy old bat."

The woman's old eyes gazed doubtfully at the teenager, a sneer tugging at her lips. "Your future," she hissed, turning around, "is plain as day."

Dash jerked out of Kwan's grip. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" he shouted at her, slamming his hands on the table.

Before the situation could escalate any further, Kwan thanked the heavens when Sam Manson kicked Dash in the side. Surprised, Dash stumbled and took a minute to regain his footing, allowing everyone else to recover from the tense encounter.

Still standing with one steel-toed boot poised in the air, Sam looked to the shopkeeper. "Sorry my classmate was bothering you," she apologized, turning to Dash and gritting her teeth. "He was supposed to stay with the group."

Peeking out from behind her stood Danny Fenton. "Uh, Sam? Maybe you shouldn't kick the guy who likes to beat me up," he said warily, watching as Dash turned to glare at them. "Just a suggestion."

"Lancer sent us to get you both," Sam said, pointing at Dash and Kwan like they were dirt on the bottom of her shoes. "I hate babysitting."

"What was that, Manson?" Dash roared, already recovered from the kick. Danny made a squawking sound as he stumbled behind his friend once again. Kwan could sympathize, knowing that it wasn't pleasant to be on the receiving end of a larger foe.

Sam was hardly phased. In fact, she raised an eyebrow and made a 'come hither' motion.

Watching all of this occur from behind her stand, the woman bowed deeply in thanks when Sam grabbed the A-lister's hand to drag him outside. Dash's muscles clenched angrily as he was manhandled, but he suddenly allowed the change and smiled thinly at the old woman on the way out.

The woman's eyes narrowed, following the group that had disturbed her peace. She noticed the shortest one eyeing her inventory cautiously. "Is there a problem?" she asked.

Danny startled, eyes raising to address the old woman. "Ah, no," he said, stumbling over his feet as he backed up. "Sorry." He hesitated briefly, looking down at her items. "Actually, well–can I ask where you got these?"

Her gaze narrowed as she watched the nervous child while Danny tried desperately not to be worried about the objects glowing an ectoplasmic green only ghosts could see.

The old woman smiled–a grin so wide the teenager could see her teeth–and laughed. "You're not the only one with weird parents," she whispered, a finger pressed over her smile as she winked.

Danny couldn't help but smile back. The Fenton family was well known as the running joke of anything ghostly, even outside of Amity's walls. Although, he still wondered how this obviously human woman had obtained ghostly items, especially since she wasn't a resident of Amity Park. Culture and diversity were one thing, but actually being able to get your hands on some pretty ancient ghost relics? Did some parts of the rest of the world know about the supernatural?

It was something he would have to talk to Tucker and Sam about later. Maybe even Jazz as she was still very interested in ghost psychology and history.

With one last cautious look at the woman, Danny exited the booth. What greeted him outside was even less thrilling.

"-if you payed any attention to the people around you!" Sam yelled, fists clenched at her side, glaring upwards at the jock. Several shoppers were watching them with cautious looks as Dash and Sam fought in the middle of the festival. Being outsiders, they weren't aware that these two teenagers were caught in fights that sometimes escalated psychically quite often so the current proceeding was mildly disturbing to them.

Security was a little way down from the aisle and Danny could already picture them running here to escort the group away.

"Fuck off, Manson!" Dash screamed back, just as ready for a fight as Sam.

Standing behind his friend, Kwan, the ever-faithful peacemaker, turned wide eyes to Danny. Noticing his pleading look, Danny sighed, running a hand over his face. "I'll grab Sam if you grab Dash," he offered. The jock nodded in agreement and the two quickly snatched their friends by the arms.

"Let go of me, Danny!" Sam hissed, struggling against his hold. Her ponytail was falling in her face as her motions increased. "He's had this coming for a long time!"

"Dash!" Kwan tried, turning his friend around. "You're going to get us kicked out."

The blonde paused, shrugging off his friend with a snort. "Who cares," he said, smiling as he reached into his jacket pocket. "I got what I wanted."

The other three gasped at the white orb Dash held in his hands; even Sam stopped trying to pull away. The jock looked extremely smug as he tossed it up and down. "Stupid old lady, she didn't even notice when I swiped this," he bragged, looking at the orb with pride, one gentle finger running over its surface.

Danny relaxed his fingers in his shock and Sam was able to slip out. "You stole that," she gasped, anger once again swelling beneath her black and purple exterior.

Dash hummed, turning around and walking towards the direction of the class. Kwan followed him hesitantly, looking both curious and upset about his friend's current possession. "No," Dash reassured, "I borrowed it."

Sam plowed ahead of the jock. "You stole it," she accused again, blocking his path. "You have to give it back."

Dash wasn't on the football team just for show. He easily bypassed the angry teenager, sending a look over his shoulder. "Or what? You're going to call security on me?"

"Yes!"

"Sam, please don't," Danny begged, gripping the back of her shirt. When Sam turned around to send him a betrayed look, he wilted. "You know he's just going to blame us for it. Tucker and I really don't need any more time trapped in our own lockers."

Sam pulled her shirt away, still frowning. The two followed Dash and Kwan in silence for several minutes before she finally said, "You can phase through the wall."

Danny winced, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but his friend's face. "Ah, well, not if he stays to watch."

Violet eyes sharpened. "It's Junior year and he's still pulling this shit," she voiced, tone even with well-disguised contempt. "We live in a town where the actual souls of dead people torment the living, and he's still pulling this whole 'schoolyard bully' routine."

She narrowed her gaze on the back of the jock who was still bragging to Kwan about his grand steal, voicing the words no one else had the courage to say, "Grow up."

Danny was extremely grateful they were too far away for the jocks to hear.

Sam watched her friend, expression betraying nothing. After a moment of Danny sweating under her intense gaze, she ordered, voice uncharacteristically soft, "You have to stop protecting him from facing the consequences he deserves."

"I give as good as I get," Danny argued, pointing out the toilet paper and teddy bear incidents. "Dash may shove us in lockers and toilets, but I humiliate him too, he just doesn't really know it's me all the time."

"Those are pranks," Sam emphasized, jabbing a finger into her friend's chest. "You're a hero–and a good one at that–but you've made mistakes, sometimes irreversible ones, and you learn from them." Her finger stopped digging into Danny's chest to flick towards Dash. "That guy? He's a jerk. He may not be as bad as the ghosts you face, but one of these days his reckless actions are going to hurt somebody because he's never had a consequence for any of his big screw ups."

She stepped back from Danny, making sure he was looking her in the eye. "Stop protecting him or he's never going to learn."

"I thought you were the one who said protecting people was my thing?"

The purple of Sam's eyes darkened. "Save that kindness for the people who deserve it."

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

"Hey, idiots!" Sam called suddenly, startling both Danny and the jocks. Danny tried to tug on her sleeve to get her to stop provoking them, but all she said was, "Lancer said to meet him at the garden square."

"We knew that, Manson!" Dash snapped, teeth barred.

"Then you must also know you just passed it?" Sam asked, head tilted and a smirk on her lips.

Dash twitched in anger, muttering several choice words under his breath as he backtracked. His feet dug deep indentions in the ground when he passed them, making his anger clear to the two shorter teens.

Kwan followed slowly, but stopped in front of them. "He'll, uh, put it back. Later," he reassured.

"Right, you mean you'll put it back and cover for him," Sam huffed. Kwan didn't say anything, but his eyes betrayed him. "Just go. Make sure he doesn't break it or we will be telling Lancer."

Despite the company he kept, Kwan's moral compass was slightly less skewed. He was thankful that Sam and Danny wouldn't cause a scene and force him to take a side. Dash had been his best friend since elementary, and he wasn't sure he was ready to put that relationship to the test.

Lancer noticed the small group before the other six students did. He looked disappointed in the jocks for running off, but a sharp glance was all they received. Maybe due to favoritism or possibly because Kwan glanced at him full of guilt was a punishment not given; either way, it made Sam send Danny and very pointed look.

Danny shrugged his shoulders, looking very tired.

The four of them settled amongst their peers at the park benches–Sam and Danny finding a spot next to Tucker and Mikey while Dash and Kwan joined the A-listers. Valerie sat somewhere between the two groups, looking as if she would rather be anywhere but here.

"Now that we're all together," Lancer announced, sending yet another glare to Dash and Kwan, "we can take a lunch break while reviewing your books for tomorrow's test." The students groaned, knowing that Lancer's tests were never easy.

"Don't give me that! This is your absolute last chance to earn credit for the start of your Junior year," Lancer scolded, hands on his hips. "You're lucky Mayor Masters thought it best to provide you all with this opportunity. I will agree that ghosts are disruptive and make it difficult to turn in work, but that is no excuse for failing grades!"

"My excuse, 'Skulker burned my homework,' stopped working on him months ago," Danny whispered to Tucker who snickered.

"It wasn't really an excuse," Sam commented, recalling all the times Skulker actually had burned Danny's backpack and all of his work. "You probably should have blamed Cujo eventually to change it up a bit. Everyone knows how much he loves to hang around Casper High."

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "The classic 'my dog ate my homework?' Lancer would sooner believe Dracula stole it than an actual representation of everyone's favorite excuse."

"Hey, there's no need to bring Vlad into this," Danny teased, high-fiving Tucker once the statement registered.

"If you three are quite done," Lancer cut in, annoyed. The trio suddenly noticed that everyone was glaring at them. "I would like to continue this discussion so everyone can begin eating."

"Sorry, Mr. Lancer," the three of them chorused, looking sheepish.

Lancer ignored their apologies, turning to pull several textbooks from the cart he rolled around with him. Mikey jumped up eagerly to aid the teacher in passing out the English Language Arts textbooks, dodging the foot Dash stuck out as he passed the A-listers.

"Here you go," Mikey said as he handed one to Danny.

The youngest Fenton took the book and flipped it over to the front cover that had a picture of some dead poet. "I bet I could find this guy in the Ghost Zone," he whispered to Sam and Tucker, a grin on his face. "This assignment would be a piece of cake!"

Sam smacked him with her book. "No cheating, we'll just have to suffer this together."

The three sat in silence while reading through several sections, knowing that Lancer would ask them to create vocabulary words from memory later. Sam tried to focus–honestly, she did–but something felt off about Danny as he curled up in between them.

Discretely, she looked up to watch him while hiding behind her bangs. Her friend was biting his lip with unfocused eyes. Leaning backwards slightly, she noticed Tucker eyeing her from Danny's other side. His eyes asked her what happened, but she didn't know either.

"Danny," she asked, carefully, "look at me."

His teeth let go of his lip, but only his eyes raised to meet hers; his head remained bowed. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but the words weren't needed.

"We know you wouldn't cheat, Danny," Tucker said, having figured out what bothered him. "Sam didn't mean anything by that."

Sam closed her eyes. The CAT had affected Danny in ways not even they could understand. After a few months of talking in out with Jazz–that he demanded everyone knew were not, in any way, therapy sessions–he was recovering from reoccurring nightmares, but Sam and Tucker still caught him staring at them for too long or trying to avoid their traditional meals at the Nasty Burger.

Every so often, something they said would set him off in a spiral of worry: the edges of his vision darkening the more he thought about what his future could have been and everything he would have lost.

One of Tucker's arms found its way around Danny's waist. Sam opened her eyes to join them in the embrace. "You okay?" she asked after several seconds where Danny's breathing began to slow.

"Guy's I'm fine," he shrugged them off, smiling. "It was just a joke."

"I know," Sam reassured, poking him on the nose and ignoring his squeak as he batted her hand away. "But I still shouldn't have said it."

Danny acknowledged her and Sam took the time to admire how much they had grown since the encounter with the future. They were still kids–if Tucker and Danny ever stopped acting like idiots, she just might strangle them for worrying her–but there was a weight over each of their shoulders now.

Sam still worried she was the reason Danny died. She encouraged him to enter the portal even though the Fenton parents had warned them a million times how dangerous the lab could be. She also encouraged him to embrace how different he had become afterwards because it made him unique, but Danny never wanted any of this. He was more of the type to hide in the background, making sarcastic comments and slacking off like a normal teenager.

Tucker, she knew, worried about Danny's relationship with his family. Tucker and Danny were close friends before she met them, and he was the only one who truly had a great relationship with his parents. Sam had long since rejected hers before they met and Danny's were always too busy to worry about their youngest. Now that they were older, Tucker wanted to encourage Danny to bond with his family–as it was obvious the Fenton's loved their kids despite the neglect–but the new dynamic of the Fentons trying to rip their son apart "molecule by molecule" if they ever caught his ghost half only complicated matters.

Danny worried about his growing abilities. They could see it every time he developed a new power–ectoplasmic ice had been a bit of a shock–and each enemy he fought ended up going home with more bruises to their pride than their bodies. He was being careful with his enemies, his friends, and himself. Even the pranks Danny claimed he performed to get back on Dash must remind him of his vindictive older self because they slowed before finally stopping all together.

Danny had changed so much–Sam and Tucker following him–but the town of Amity Park and its citizens remained stagnant. After all, they hadn't seen what would become of them if a single, unassuming teenager made one mistake.

"Not every mess-up means the end of the world, Danny," she voiced with zero tact, causing Tucker to make cutting motions across his neck. "You're allowed to make mistakes. We'll always be here to help you fix them."

The comment seemed to cheer Danny up so Tucker changed his tune and added, "Clockwork too! I can't believe the closest representation of a ghostly God is now your guardian. Your personality is like wet toast so it must be my dashing good looks that drew him in."

Danny laughed, returning his attention to his book. "Thanks, guys."

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Lunch was far more eventful than it should have been. Ghosts didn't attack, but the consequences of Dash's previous thievery did.

The old woman from before must have finally noticed the missing object because she stormed the small group of students as if the Hounds of Hell were chasing her. Danny noticed her approach first, bringing his lunch box up to hide his head. "Oh no," he whispered as the woman stopped in front of Dash, knowing nothing would end well with this encounter.

"Thief!" she cried, laying a hand on the jock's shoulder.

Dash startled, having not seen her coming, but quickly recovered enough to jump up and shove her away. "Get off, you nut case!"

The woman hissed through her teeth, making another grab for the teenager. "You will return what you have stolen!" Her nails missed Dash's shoulders by centimeters.

Paulina and Star stood up to avoid the two of them, looking angry at the old lady who had dared to interrupt their lunch. "Would you just, like, chill for a second?" Paulina asked. "We don't even know you!"

The rest of the group watched as Dash dodged yet another grab for his pocket, quite unsure what to do in this instance. No one liked Dash–except the A-listers–but if he was being wrongly accused of something, then shouldn't someone put a stop to it?

Sam bit into her vegan sandwich. "Told you this would come back to bite him in the butt," she hummed through her enjoyment. The trio, Mikey, and Valerie watched the spectacle from the other picnic table, nobody making a move to help.

"He really took something, didn't he?" Valerie scoffed, not feeling very empathetic.

Mikey winced when Paulina shouted that she would call the police. "Shouldn't we get security? I really like it here and would like to be invited back."

Danny peeked his head up long enough to notice Lancer heading in their direction. He pointed this out as the teacher stepped between his student and the old woman.

Lancer placed his hands up, trying to calm down the woman he didn't recognize. "South Beach Diet, people, wait a second!"

"Your student has taken something very special to me," the woman accused, peaking over the teacher's shoulder at the jock whistling innocently. "I demand he return it to my possession."

"Now, I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding," Lancer reassured. Attempting to return order to the group, he placed his hands protectively between Dash and the woman.

Everyone watching knew Lancer had just made his first mistake: implying the old woman was wrong.

Her outrage could be heard across several aisles because suddenly a security guard raced in. The group of students watched as the situation only escalated further.

"Everybody calm down," the officer ordered, one hand on his weapons belt, half bent over in between Lancer and the old woman. As discretely as he could, the officer motioned for Dash to get away. The teen did as he was told and hurried over to the other students, ignoring their glares as he sat among them.

"Feeling smug, Baxter?" Sam sneered at him from across the table. She motioned with a nod towards the officer. "You caused this."

Dash huffed, but Paulina came to his defense quickly. "Buzz off, goth freak. Just because some crazy old lady–" she stopped when Sam tackled Dash long enough to snatch the crystal orb hiding in his jacket pocket.

Sam held her prize up to the group, dodging Dash when he made a grab for it. The group was silent for a moment as they stared at the evidence of Dash's deception. Paulina recovered quickly with, "Okay, so what? That doesn't mean the lady gets to attack us for it."

"Oh, for Clockwork's sake," Sam groaned, tossing the crystal to Dash with enough force to make the jock grunt. "Return it, now."

The presence of the officer must have switched something inside Dash because he hesitated, looking down at the object and back at the fight escalating several feet away. The group truly believed he would return it until the officer called out loudly to both Lancer and the group.

"I'm really sorry about this," the officer explained, rubbing his face tiredly. The man was an obvious outsider, someone hired to work in Amity Park only during the cultural festivals. "We get complaints about her all the time back in our town. Runs in her family, honestly."

They could see the woman freeze, her face hardening into a practiced look of indifference while her fingers loosened their hold on the officer's shoulder. It was a look Danny had practiced since he was in grade school when his parents first moved to Amity Park. Suddenly the teenager was seeing himself standing there as officer after officer turned his parents away from social functions or malls or City Hall or whenever someone would complain about the ghost freaks showing up and occupying space.

Danny stood up. "He took it," he said, standing tall and ignoring the shock–pride in Sam's case–of everyone around him.

Dash hissed through his teeth, already haven hidden the crystal ball again. Danny knew this was a very bad idea that he would surely pay for later, but the image of an embarrassed six-year-old version of himself standing amongst screaming families and unsympathetic officers wouldn't leave his head.

The officer straightened, also ignoring the shock of the old woman and Lancer. "Look, kid, you don't have to feel sorry for her, this happens all the time."

Danny was too startled to respond as the officer went back to admonishing the woman. There was the familiar warmth of anger curling under his fingertips when the woman, growing more and more hysterical, was ignored. The item was clearly important to her and Danny could reason it might be something her family had kept in their possession for a very long time.

He could see Sam watching him from the corner of his vision. Danny curled his fists when Dash laughed to his friends, clearly knowing he was getting away with stealing. The uncaring laugh struck a nerve and the conversation with Sam about consequences teased the edge of his memory.

This is unfair.

Danny wanted so badly to turn ghost and grab the ball from Dash to return to its rightful owner. He wanted to see Dash's face when he realized what he had done, and that his hero–the person he admired most–was the one turning him in. He wanted to see the smile and relief on the woman's face that he never got to feel when no one stepped in to defend his family.

Despite what Sam believed, Danny was more than ready to show Dash what consequences meant, but unfortunately, this time Dash went too far.

He made an enemy of someone extremely capable of showing what consequences can come from reckless, indecent actions.

"You awful, awful, boy," the woman cried, eyes wet and face far angrier than any of the students had seen so far. Her frustration was written all over her body language as she glared across the park into Dash's indifferent eyes.

Lancer and the officer held her back far away from the students, possibly afraid she was going to try attacking Dash again.

The woman's face twisted into a smile. "Fine," she stated plainly, her eyes focused on the crystal ball sticking slightly out of Dash's pocket. The air was cold and every student tensed under the vengeful gaze of the fortune teller's rage.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker watched as every person in the park seemed to tense in anticipation–not just the ones watching the odd spectacle occur. It was how Amity Park citizens typically reacted before a ghost fight. The wakening of every human's greatest ability: instinct.

"You want to see the future so badly?" the woman sneered, the skin of her face wrinkling as she laughed. "Then see it."

There was a clock. Danny didn't know why there was a clock, but suddenly it was in his face and counting down the hour very quickly. He wanted to ask his friends if they saw it too, but he couldn't turn his head. Was he breathing? He couldn't tell if he was breathing, or alone, or even standing.

And the clock?

The clock kept counting.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

A/N: I am well aware that I need to stop making new stories and actually start finishing some, but this story has been in my head since I was a kid and I am finally getting enough motivation to write it!

There aren't that many time travel fanfics in the Phandom so here you go :D This story won't be long (maybe 5 chapters at most? But I'm not very well known for sticking to a schedule or keeping my word so who knows).