regular boy: daniel wayne - diamond_rozie (2024)

Chapter 1: breaking news

Chapter Text

Danny sighed, stepping through the front door and into the empty living room not bothering to turn on the lights and tossed his hoodie onto a nearby sofa. Normally Jazz would have berated him for being messy, or maybe Mom would have nagged about Danny being older and needing to clean up after himself. But Jazz was off studying neurology at Harvard. And his parents had gotten an “an amazingly irrefutable offer, Danno” to work at Dalv Co. under their new ecto-technologies sector, that partnered closely with the GIW. So they were usually busy with that.

Not that Danny wasn’t glad to have time apart from his parents. After what Danny only referred to as The Chicago Incident , he could barely stand being in the same room with them. Danny kept quiet about what happened. He hadn't told anyone, not Sam or Tuck or Val or Wes and especially not Jazz. He couldn’t. He’d only managed to survive thanks to the timely aid of Fright Knight and Firebolt (a ghost friend he made when he was stuck in the Ghost Zone during the GIW’s six-month Martial Law lockdown- but that was a story for another time).

Leaving his shoes somewhere by the door, Danny made his way into the kitchen, perusing through the remnants of edible material. The equipment in the basem*nt would have been collecting dust if Danny hadn’t taken his liberties with it. Apart from his newfound and unbounded freedom that he regarded with gratitude, Danny even began dabbling in cooking real people food. And it was definitely because he wanted to and not because he was sick of microwavable food, Jazz.

With Danny’s rendition of chicken alfredo ready, he ate in front of the TV. He flipped through a few channels before just landing back on the news. He half-listened to the anchor telling him about the incoming weather front before the screen abruptly changed, flashing a bright red Breaking News sign for a moment before panning over to a lady in front of what looked like a crime scene.

“I’m Jenifer Blair, reporting live from West Gotham City with Z News!” The reporter spoke urgently over the loud sounds of police and ambulance sirens in the background. “Here at the scene of the crime where Dr. Collin Kilye, renowned geneticist, and lead researcher at West Gotham General Hospital, has shot himself and has been declared dead by the paramedics. Dr. Kilye is suspected to be responsible for the purposeful switching of newborns of families under his care. It is estimated that over 500 babies have been swapped in the last 20 years of his employment here. Based on the information provided to the Gotham PD by Nightwing and Batman, the vigilantes investigating the crime, we have been told that Nightwing has been investigating this case after an anonymous tipoff of Dr. Kilye’s suspicious activities. After a reported month and a half of investigating, Nightwing had reason to suspect Dr. Kilye of malpractice and came to his office to investigate where--”

The sudden sound of his phone ringing brought Danny back to his living room. “Hey, Tuck,” Danny answered, lowering the volume of the TV.

“Danny! Dude! Have you seen the news story of Batman and Nightwing’s recent bust?” Tucker asked, his voice radiating fanboy excitement.

“Wasn’t it mostly just Nightwing?” Danny raised an eyebrow at his friend, even though he couldn’t see it. “Batman showed up later.”

“Yeah, well, Batman and Nightwing-”

“ Nightwing and Batman.”

“Okay, whatever- but isn’t this totally insane? It’s like Parent Trap- but illegal.”

“That’s not what happens in Parent Trap.” Danny pointed out for the sole purpose of being annoying.

“It’s the essence, Danny!” Tucker groaned. Danny could practically hear him rolling his eyes through the phone. “We’re still on for the new Doom game tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. The others come by yet?” Danny put his plate in the sink.

“I’m adding them to the call.”

On the third ring, “‘Sup Fenton ‘n Foley. Ready to get your nonexistent butts handed to you?” Val goaded, already hyped for their game.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I have a very nice butt. And Danny’s isn’t anything to scoff at either-” Tucker snapped only to be cut off by Danny.

“Okay! Thanks for the defense, Tuck.” Danny stepped in quickly before the conversation took a turn he did not want to witness.

---

Dick was alone in the BatCave, working out the final details of his case before sending it off to be released publicly. In all of Dick’s years as Robin to Nightwing, this case was easily one of the most disastrous to the general public. Given that it was his case, Dick wanted to make sure it went smoothly. Or as smoothly as telling a family their child isn’t biologically theirs can go.

Sorting through the files and pairing up the families with the correct child was relatively easy, thanks to the incredible details Dr. Kilye stored in his files. If the circ*mstances were different, Dick would have been amazed at how much data the doctor managed to keep collecting for 568 different subjects of his experiment. Silently praising himself for having already made his way through about half the files, Dick stretched his neck as he clicked the View Next button.

In his line of work, Dick had learned that people never know a person or situation as well as they thought they did. Dick had been confident he wouldn’t be one of those people. He was a detective, a Bat, the first Robin. He knew better than to assume anything. The file that showed up next was chilling proof that he was wrong. For a Bat, the past never stayed in the past.

File Number: 6678

Date of Birth: 12 February 20XX

Name: Thomas Wayne Jr

Assigned Mother: Clarissa King (missing)

Assigned Father: Bruce Wayne (alive)

Biological Mother: Madeline Fenton (alive)

Biological Father: Jack Fenton (alive)

Medical Conditions:

• Malformations of the heart and lungs
• Unidentified chemicals present in blood test

Updates and Notes:

• Deceased on 23 February 20XX (11 days old)

The memories he managed to keep buried for years seized Dick’s senses, and he was back in the hospital waiting room at age 9. None of the others had known about the time Bruce and Thalia had tried to work things out and had given having a family together a try. No LoA business. No Bat or JLA. Just regular(ish) people in a regular(ish) family.

It had gone well for the months before Talia had become pregnant. Even most of the pregnancy had gone smoothly. Dick got to be in an actual family again after the death of his parents. They had dinner together. Talked about their day. Watched movies together.

But then Talia had gotten sick, and the baby ended up coming out a little early. The doctors had told them it was normal and that the baby would probably still be healthy. So Alfred sat in the waiting room with a nervous Dick, excited to meet his first-ever little brother. He’d always wanted a little brother. Bruce came to the waiting room after making Dick and Alfred wait forever and told them they could come in now. Talia, under the alias Clarissa King, was asleep when they entered.

Bruce had told them the doctors had taken Thomas to get cleaned and do a few check-ups. Dick remembered the anxious but excited look on Bruce’s face as he kept glancing at the door, ready to pounce the second the doctor would come back with Dick’s new baby brother.

Except that never happened.

When the doctor came back into the room, he had a clipboard in his hand, not a baby. The Doctor told them to follow him, and they went inside a room with a bunch of machines in it, and in the middle of the room was Dick’s baby brother.

The baby was mostly bald, but he had little bits of black hair on his head, like Bruce and Talia. Dick wondered what color eyes the baby would have. Talia had green eyes, but Bruce and Dick had blue eyes. Alfred had said the baby needed a lot of rest and that’s why he was sleeping so much. Dick would be a good big brother and wait patiently until his baby brother woke up.

But the baby had to stay in the hospital for 10 whole days since Bruce had told Dick that his brother was really sick. Dick would check the nursery to make sure it was ready for his brother before Alfred would take him to the hospital to visit. Dick’s baby brother hadn’t been awake any of those days and Dick never got to find out what color his eyes were.

On the eleventh day, they didn’t go to visit. When Dick asked Alfred why, the butler had walked him to the patch of loose dirt in the backyard marked with a little piece of rock with his brother’s name on it.

Dick had seen that type of rock with his parent’s name on it before.

It meant that he was gone, and Dick would never get to see him again.

When Bruce had introduced Jason Todd and said he would stay with them in the manor, that was the first time Dick had truly ever been betrayed by Bruce.

Jason wasn’t his brother. Thomas was. But Thomas wasn’t here. Jason may get to say he was Bruce’s son too, but he didn’t get to know about Thomas.

Not letting his childhood tears deter him from his new goal, Dick quickly found the associated file. Dick’s heart pounded in his chest while his breath was still stuck somewhere in his throat,

File Number: 77563

Date of Birth: 12 February 20XX

Name: Daniel Fenton

Assigned Mother: Madeline Fenton (alive)

Assigned Father: Jack Fenton (alive)

Biological Mother: Clarissa King (missing)

Biological Father: Bruce Wayne (alive)

Medical Conditions:

• Normal Birth
• Age 12: Electrocuted
• Hospitalized for 24 hours.
• Developed Acute Bradycardia
• No follow-up medical procedures

Updates and Notes:

• Prefers “Danny”

Dick looked over the file again and again. His baby brother was alive. He had come back. Should he tell Bruce? Obviously, that was a dumb question. How should he tell Bruce?

Well, Richard Grayson was nothing if not tactful. He pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket, pulled up both files next to each other on the large screen of the Bat Computer, snapped a picture, and clicked send. Bruce was supposed to be having dinner with some important business people or whatnot, so Dick decided he should flee the scene before the Big Bad Bat found him, not wanting to know what his wrath would bestow on him. Heaven forbid, Bruce might even talk about emotions .

He closed all the files, stored them in a flash drive, and wiped them from the computer. After all, this was his case, and he’d be the one to see it through. Dick was right in front of the elevator when the doors opened to reveal Tim.

“You’re done?” Tim asked, raising a suspicious brow.

“I have a flight to catch.” Dick said, “I need to pack.”

“Is it for a case?” Tim asked, putting his phone in his pocket.

“Yeah. Be the bestest brother ever and cover for me?” Dick pleaded, flashing his signature smile.

“Why should I?” He huffed already a few feet away from where Dick stayed.

With a smirk, “‘Cause you don’t want Bruce to know what taking the Batmobile out for a ‘joyride’ was really for,” Dick said with a smirk.

Tim turned around, alarmed. “Fine, I’ll cover. But you better not tell.” Tim hissed at him.

“Scout’s Honor.” Dick winked before catching the elevator.

“You weren’t even a Scout.” He heard Tim complain before the doors fully shut.

Three hours later, Dick landed in Chicago, Illinois and hailed a cab to take him the rest of the 1-and-a-half-hour drive to Amity Park. Where Thomas Daniel Danny lived. Dick hadn’t exactly planned this whole excursion through, which wasn’t very trained-by-Batman of him. But Dick knew how to do things by the nose when he needed to.

He had used the time in the plane to finish the rest of the files, which he completed quickly with his ultimatum in mind. Dick purposely ignored every notification vibrating in his pocket knowing he would be facing the wrath of either Tim or Bruce.

But now he was sitting in a car for one-and-a-half hours with nothing to look out for except the darkness of the night and a relatively empty road. He opened his phone to 56 messages and missed calls. He scrolled through the groupchat, ignoring it when it was just talking about regular stuff. Next, he opened his messages from Tim.

Timbers: Dick.

Timbers: what did you do?????

Timbers: when you said cover I thought you meant for patrol or smt

Timbers: not whatever beef Bruce apparently has with you??

Timbers: I demand compensation!!!

Timbers: [1 video]

Dick opened the video Tim sent him. It was 90 seconds of security camera feed from right above the elevator. Bruce’s hair was disturbed from his usual well-done look he kept for business meetings and his tie was undone. He stormed towards the BatComputer where Tim was doing whatever Tim does on the computer. Despite being dressed in business attire, Dick could practically see the flurrying of the Batman cape behind him as he walked. Bruce whipped the chair Tim sat on around to face him so fast that Tim nearly fell off.

‘Where’s Dick?’ The camera was a bit far but still picked up Bruce’s echoing voice. To Dick’s surprise, and seemingly Tim’s as well, Bruce didn’t seem mad. Disgruntled, alarmed, slipping from sanity? Yes. Genuinely angry? Not quite. It made Dick feel a little guilty. Only a little, though.

‘I dunno,’ Tim said, still reeling from the surprise attack.

Bruce pushed Tim’s chair away from the computer, scavenging through the files, no doubt looking for the files on Thomas and Danny. Unfortunately for Bruce, every single one of those files was secure in Dick’s jacket pocket. Bruce would come to realize that soon enough, as he took a shaky breath and stepped away from the screen.

The video ended.

That explained the 12 missed calls from Bruce. Dick debated calling him back. No doubt Bruce would ask for an explanation. An explanation he still has yet to come up with.

Deciding this was a problem for future Dick, present Dick decided he would let himself doze off for the rest of the cab ride to his destination.

Chapter 2: amity’s gang problem

Chapter Text

By the time Dick checked into his room at the inn he had booked, it was late into the night. The inn was close to the center of town and got semi-regular foot traffic so Dick’s stay wouldn’t seem all that strange. Dick looked out his wall-length window to see the dark overlay of the town. A few street lights littered the streets like fireflies, as it seemed the town was already deep in its slumber despite it not yet being 11:00.

Dick looked at his phone, the missed calls from Bruce taunting him. Dick decided this was the perfect time to take a quick (very long) shower.

Was he avoiding the confrontation? Yes.

Unfortunately, the procrastination shower had to come to an end, and now Dick sat on his bed, clean, and with no more excuses. Dick braced himself as he clicked on Bruce’s number.

Bruce answered instantly. “Richard.” Richard? Oh. Dick was screwed.

“Brucie!” Dick said with exaggerated cheer, hoping some of it would rub off on Cold, Dark, and Brooding. There was a silence where Bruce said nothing. “I sent you a compiled list of all the files. Take a look when you can. I sent a copy to Agent Johnson to deal it to the public since it’s a domestic security case.” Dick added, knowing Bruce had already looked through the files, at least minimally.

“ All the files?” Bruce repeated pointedly, picking at the fact that Danny’s and Thomas’s files weren’t included in his copy. This is a textbook example of what Dick liked to call a Batman Conversation - minimal responses, maximum silence, and just waiting for the other guy to spill. Fortunately for Batman, it was a tried-and-true strategy to get information from criminals and other nefarious doers. Unfortunately for Bruce, it didn't work on Dick.

“I worked the case. I get to decide what files you get to see.” Dick paused; he knew how to play the game. “Your rules.”

“You want me to find out with everyone else,” Bruce concluded matter-of-factly. Dick knew Bruce wouldn’t exactly approve of his course of action, but Dick was playing the long game.

“Listen, we both know you have tendencies to… over-analyze things. I didn’t want you to jump the gun and freak the kid out. There’s no way he knows about anything that happened other than what was on the news.” Dick tried to explain.

“And what exactly is your plan?”

That was a f*cking good question. And one Dick wasn’t going to answer honestly. Activate skill: Reroute and Deflect. “The news will probably be out by the end of the week officially by the FBI and maybe some lawyers will break the news to the public. They’ll all probably jump at the chance of being the one to tell Bruce Wayne, so you’ll get a call soon enough.” Dick let out a sigh, “Just get your head wrapped around this, Bruce. I know that the baby not making it screwed all of us up. And then the thing with…” Dick trailed off. Talking about Jason was always like poking a freshly salted wound with Bruce. “We finally have a chance to get some of what we lost back. I just want you to be all there when we do.”

There was a long pause on the phone, where neither spoke. Dick checked to see if Bruce had hung up on him, but he was still there. When Bruce finally responded, his voice was low and delicate. Not delicate like Batman’s was when he was comforting child victims. But the way Bruce’s was when he felt like he was losing control of things around him. “Keep me updated.”

“Will do, B,” Dick responded softly. “Take care of yourself,” And after another beat of silence, this one loud and comforting, Dick hung up.

Not used to sleeping this early, Dick absentmindedly flipped through a few local channels. Most news and talk shows this late at night were about the baby-swap case, and Dick had his fill of that for the day. Both refreshed and extremely tired, Dick stepped onto the balcony for a bit of fresh air and grabbed a juice from the mini-fridge.

Although the town seemed mostly asleep, there were still people out and about. It was a change from the bustling unsleeping cities of Bludhaven and Gotham. Dick watched the serene sight of the occasional cars driving by and strange green animals going about their business in the nearby park.

Though the most interesting thing Dick spotted was a lanky-looking teenager, maybe 15 or 16, sneaking out from the window of a well-groomed mansion. Dick thought little of the kid’s behavior; he'd done his own fair share of sneaking out in the middle of the night, nonadjacent to his nighttime career. Dick saw a girl peek out from the window the boy had just snuck out of (Dick gave him a knowing smile, even if the kid couldn’t see it.) and was silently trying to get the boy’s attention. With his back to her, the boy was completely unaware, trying to get to the gated fence of the property. The girl, growing agitated at the window, decided in the name of subtly she would just call for him. Really loudly. When the boy turned around, reasonably alarmed, the girl tossed a filled book bag at him with impressive accuracy.

Dick watched the rest of their exchange, but the name the girl had called rang in his head. “Danny.” It was a common name. There could be a hundred Dannys in this town alone. That didn’t mean that this Danny was his Danny. When the boy turned around again, Dick couldn’t help but think he looked like an older, off-brand version of Damian.

Don’t jump to conclusions. Find evidence. Bruce’s voice echoed in his head from his Robin days.

---

Dick really shouldn’t be having this much of a hard time following around a civilian teenager. But not knowing where he was going was a pretty big disadvantage. At first, Dick had tried the rooftops in classic Bat style, but the roofs in Amity Park were not vigilante friendly. So here Dick was peeking out of the corner of some alleyway to spy on a teenager. Very upstanding citizen of him. And not at all creepy.

So far in his investigation, Dick had followed the “Danny” away from the girl’s house and tried to get close enough to listen to a conversation he was having with another girl in a more secluded but still public spot. Dick noted the inscription Manson near the entryway of the property Danny had just fled from.

“Did you get it?” A feminine voice asked. Dick couldn’t see either of them from where he stood.

“Yeah, here.” Said, Dick assumed, Danny.

“Okay, it’s already 11:30. We only have thirty more minutes, make sure you get to the clearing on time.” The girl told him, her voice serious.

“Have you guys finished setting up?” Danny asked. There was some shuffling.

“Yup, just gotta add some finishing touches. We’ll be done by the time he gets there.”

“Alright, I’m on it.”

Dick hid quickly in the shadows as Danny and the girl walked out of the alleyway. They both walked separate ways. Danny jogged past Dick, now backpack-less, as the second girl went further down the opposite end of the street.

As Dick followed Danny down the many turns and streets he crossed, he tried to make sense of the conversation he overheard. Was Danny involved in some kind of gang? He’d have to be pretty high up the ladder to have a say in the setup. Was Danny tasked with leading a rival gang member to the takeout spot? Dick had come out in civvies, so it would have been difficult for him to intervene. Maybe he would call the cops if things went south.

Eventually, Dick found himself in another neighborhood. The houses here weren’t as large as the Manson’s, but still comfortably middle class. Dick watched from a distance as Danny threw a small stick at one window and waited. A few seconds later, a dark-skinned African boy slid the window up and leaned his head out. The light from the room illuminated his inquisitive look. Danny gave him a hand gesture telling him to come here.

Dick waited, but nothing happened for a few seconds. The lights turned off in the boy’s room, and he slid the window down as he snuck out with practiced ease. Danny walked over to meet him in front of his house. Greeting each other animatedly, they continued to walk as Danny led them to their destination.

The more Dick watched them, the more confused he felt about his previous theory. The two boys were obviously close friends; they talked about school, video games, and who Dick figures were their other friends. Was Danny a good enough liar to fool both the boy and Dick? Maybe Talia’s side of the gene pool had been stronger than expected. Dick was getting ahead of himself, he wasn’t even sure if that was the right Danny.

When Danny led the three of them down a large dirt path, the boy didn't question him. Despite this clearing looking like a secluded ambush spot. He seemed to almost be following Danny in blind faith. All the while Dick grew more concerned. Fortunately, it was a lot easier to hide in the trees than in the alleyways. From his position, Dick could clearly see Danny pull out his phone and text “Wdre herfe.” to, assumably the girl he had rendezvoused with earlier. (Dick used his incredible Bat skills to decipher that as We’re Here .)

So it was an ambush. The poor boy did not know what he had gotten himself into. Dick pulled out his phone and had 911 typed out and ready to dial he could try to step in if things got messy before the cops showed up. Well-off towns like these rarely had the same issues Bludhaven did with law enforcement.

Further down the path, and Dick saw a little clearing with a small setup and could see a few teens hiding in the trees. Waiting for Danny to approach with their victim. Dick watched in anticipation as the two boys got closer preparing a plan of action. Danny reached into his back pocket pulling out an object he kept concealing in his hand, unbeknownst to the darker boy. Probably a switchblade or a small knife. The two boys made the last turn into the setup, and Dick’s finger twitched above the call button on his phone, unnerved by the new development of potential weapons.

And then it all happened at once.

One of the two girls jumped out from the trees, one pulled the trigger on their weapons to release- confetti? The other held out a cake with lit candles just as Danny skillfully unwrapped a banner to hold out in front of the unsuspecting boy.

“Happy Birthday, Tucker!” They all said in disharmonious unison as the boy- Tucker- looked around emotionally.

“Dude!” He said shaky and emotionally hugging Danny.

The girl that held the cake walked closer so Tucker could blow out the candles, “Do not make a wish.” She said sternly. It must have been some kind of inside joke and all the teens collectively laughed. The girl that had thrown the confetti went around and lit the lanterns they had set up, illuminating their midnight birthday picnic setup.

Dick watched them for a moment (no, it wasn’t creepy), long enough to learn the girl with the cake was the same girl whose room Danny had snuck out of, Sam. The other girl Danny had met in the alleyway and released the confetti was Val.

They all went around wishing Tucker a happy birthday and showing him their gifts. The mood shifted slightly when Danny spoke up, “Hey, where’s Wes?”, just in time for a redhead boy, who strangely looked a lot like Danny to stumble in.

The new boy looked around the site and pouted. “Don’t tell me I missed everything.” Dick assumed this was Wes, as they all went around teasing the newcomer light-heartedly.

“Hey, not my fault Fenton told me the change up at the last possible second.” Dick heard Wes retort to someone’s comment about being late. “You guys are lucky my parents are out of town for the rest of the weekend.”

“Honest oversight,” Danny said, putting his hands up defensively.

“Hot chance! You did it to get back at me for-”

Fenton. His name was Danny Fenton. That was his Danny.

Thank god he wasn’t in a gang.

Dick snapped a picture of the group of friends before heading back to his room. The picture was dark, illuminated only by the lanterns the kids had set up, the scene vivid with action and personality. Tucker was slicing the cake and handing a piece to Val who was in the middle of talking. Danny had his arm slung around Wes’s neck in a mock chokehold as they both laughed about something, Wes trying to look mad while Sam punched Danny in the shoulder, a laughing scoff on her face.

“I really need to get out of Gotham more,” Dick chuckled lightly at his misunderstanding.

Once he got back to his room, Dick duplicated the picture on his phone and cropped it so that only Danny’s face was visible.

Me: [1 photo]

Me: updates as promised

Dick waited a few seconds for Bruce to read his message before texting again.

Me: dont be a creep about it

When Bruce didn’t respond, Dick texted him again.

Me: he was at his friend’s birthday party.

Me: ill send you the whole pic if you swear you won’t try to batman this.

Dick knew it was a big ask, but Dick thought it’d be hypocritical of himself to not at least give Bruce a chance when Dick had come all the way to check it out himself.

Big B: Send it.

Me: wow

Me: so polite brucie

Before Dick could contemplate adding the picture, Bruce texted back.

Big B: Please.

Dick looked at the screen for a long moment before a smile cracked his face. Bruce was really taking this seriously, huh?

Me: [1 photo]

Knowing Bruce wouldn’t respond after getting what he wanted, Dick lay down and tried to fall asleep. But before he could get comfortable, his phone dinged with a text Dick picked it up to see who it was. And on the notification screen flashed a text Dick never thought he’d live to see.

Big B: Thank you, Dick.

Not sure how to respond, Dick went with a classic.

Me: :)

Dick lay back down and let sleep welcome him.

Chapter 3: nightwing the cosplayer

Chapter Text

Danny’s parents had made it very clear that they expected Danny to be present for the family dinner. Apparently, they had great big news to share with him. But family dinner wasn’t till, well, dinner so Danny would get there just then. After their night out for Tucker’s birthday, Danny had slept over at Wes’s since his parents were out of town for the weekend. They had both taken their time waking up, since it was Saturday, and had leftover pizza for breakfast (lunch?). The two of them had spent a while playing video games until Wes took it as a personal mission to sit Danny through ghost documentaries. Checking his phone, Danny realized he got a text from Jazz.

Jazz: Remember to get Mom something for her new promotion when you go to dinner.

Me: mkom goty a proimoptiom?

Jazz: She’s been talking about this for days!

Jazz: How do you not know? 😑

Danny tried to remember the last time he and his parents had actually had an actual conversation.

Me: fimwe ill gegt hefr somrtjing

“You good?” Wes asked from in front of the TV when Danny got up from his spot on the couch.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head out. ‘Parentaly Mom got a promotion so I gotta get her a gift before dinner today.” Danny sighed, defeated. Maybe he could use it as an excuse to be late.

“I would offer to go with… but I really don’t want to.” Wes shrugged.

“Thanks for the solidarity, man.” Danny huffed dryly, but Wes just waved him off from his spot on the couch.

“Lock the door on your way out.”

“I’m taking your bike,” Danny told him before stuffing all his things into his backpack and heading to The Mall. “And your headphones,” Danny added when he saw them on the counter.

As Danny biked to The Mall (official name), he let his mind wander. The ghost documentary made Danny remember the new absence of ghost attacks. At least for the past few days.

Ever since Danny finally accepted his (future) position as the King of the Infinite Realms’, most ghosts don’t bother attacking him anymore. He had brought it up with Pandora during one of their training sessions, and she had told him that although ghosts bond through fighting, there was the matter of respect, and most ghosts would not be so easy to challenge him anymore.

Though that apparently didn’t last long since ghost politics were just as bad as it was in the living realm. As word had spread of Pariah’s defeat and Phantom’s recent rise to the throne, Plasmius had taken the time to sow the seeds of a rebellion. His intent for the throne caused a faction to form. Fortunately, most ghosts were still on Phantom’s side since he was the first and only one to earn the crown from Pariah, who’d held it for the past several eons. For those that opposed him, Princess Dora had pointed out that they don’t necessarily believe Plasmius is a good fit either, and if they were to defeat Phantom somehow it would likely surge the Realms into another era of chaos and disorder.

During his time in the Zone with Firebolt, Danny had seen and experienced more of the Infinite Realms than during his mini-adventures with Sam and Tucker. Danny had no particular opinions about wanting to have the Crown for himself, but he knew better than to let Plasmius have it.

Plasmius would often send his goons to attack Phantom. Some unfortunate times Danny would be caught in public unable to transform, leaving him stuck to deal with the attacks without his powers. Thanks to the increasing number of those incidents, Pandora now insists that Danny be as proficient in fighting without his powers as he is with them. Fighting a 9-foot-something, four-armed Greek Warrior without powers? Not exactly a fun time.

Regardless, Danny was happy for the free time off from his Phantom business to just focus on his schoolwork and the essay he had due on Wednesday.

Though, maybe Danny should have known, with his luck, good things never lasted.

Barely 30 minutes into his shopping journey to find a present for his mom, Danny’s ghost sense went off. He only had enough time to grab the Fenton Thermos and wrist ray from his bag, before three vultures infested The Mall. They crashed through a perfectly good skylight, instead of just phasing through. A true show of their superior intelligence. The falling glass seemed to throw the vultures off their game, and Danny snagged one into his thermos pretty quickly. Danny zapped Vulture Number Two, but the distance between them made the impact of the ray feel more like a wrist slap than a gutting punch. Vulture Number Two apparently didn’t like that very much and took it upon himself to attack Danny.

As if the vultures weren’t bad enough, Razor Claw came crashing through even more glass (Danny could not stress how unnecessary that was) on his hover-board thing. Danny was pretty sure the guy could fly without it and really didn’t understand what it was for.

“Fenton!” Dash called because he was here too apparently, “Behind you!” Dash and Danny weren’t exactly best friends, but when push came to shove they had each other’s backs. So when Danny turned around he was expecting Vulture Number Three, maybe another rebel, maybe even Plasmius himself.

Not Nightwing. Like Nightwing from Gotham, Nightwing. Formerly Robin the First. Member of the Titans and Justice League Jr. Standing there, like, right in front of Danny.

“What the f*ck?” Danny heard himself say before turning to Dash, who was standing next to him now and felt validated by their shared confusion.

“Are you a cosplayer?” Danny heard Dash whisper-ask Nightwing.

Nightwing, who was just awkwardly and nervously(?) standing there, seemed taken aback by the accusation. “W-What?” He said gracefully, before regaining his composure. He sounded almost indignant “No, I’m the real Nightwing.” As if to prove himself, he pulled out a Bird-a-rang and displayed it to the two teens like it was some kind of rare YuGiO card. Talk about professionalism.

“Looks fake,” Danny said in a mock whisper to Dash, knowing Nightwing could still hear them.

“He’s totally a cosplayer,” Dash responds with a sage nod. Nightwing was about to respond, but the words were knocked out of him when Danny pushed both of them out of the way of an oncoming vulture attack.

Seriously, why in the Ancients was Nightwing here? If one of the Justice Leaguers had to show, then at least someone useful like Zatanna or Dr. Fate, heck even Constantine. But no , he has to get the guy that outgrew his Robin suit.

Razor Claw used his claw to slice at some of the merchandise in a nearby store, laughing in amusem*nt at the shopper’s terror. Danny slipped his bag off, opening up the middle zipper. “There should be three spectator-deflectors and maybe a few rays.” He told Dash, “The Ghost Shield Rooms are probably full by now, so just use that. You two stay here.”

“What? You’re not dealing with this on your own.” Nightwing protested, grabbing his arm before Danny could leave.

Danny gave him an unimpressed look, “And what? Wait for the Justice League to show up?” Danny scoffed.

Nightwing scowled in response, “Still-”

“Dude.” Danny said pointedly, “We do this like every week. This guy’s a small fry, compared to, like, Plasmius.” Danny reassures him before forcing his arm off to blast an incoming Vulture attack, the positing just right to leave him ready for Thermos Time. “Two down. Easy.” Danny told Nightwing, just as Vulture Number Three swooped down at Danny, knocking the thermos out of his hand, causing it to roll away from Danny’s line of sight.

Him and his big mouth.

Just then, Razor Claw launches an ectoblast at the three of them. Danny rolled out of the way, putting some distance between himself and the sitting ducks. Dash and Nightwing had already put on the specter deflectors, so the shield had popped up just in time to block the attack. “Dash, you’re on guard duty,” Danny said before heading to deal with Razor Claw and the Last Vulture and hopefully find the thermos.

“I’m doing it because I want to and not because you told me to,” Dash yelled back at him from inside the store. Danny could hear more protest from Nightwing, but not even a Gotham hero could defeat a ghost on their first try (especially one without any powers).

“Sure, dude.” Danny shot back, knowing Dash was probably flipping him off.

“I'll have you in my claws soon, pest.” Razor Claw sneered, turning around on his hoverboard to shoot a blast.

If it weren’t for Val’s insistence that Danny not smack talk the villains like he did when he was Phantom, because apparently it was kind of a giveaway when they acted so similar, Danny wouldn’t have missed the opportunity for a perfect comeback. But unfortunately, he had to keep his hilarious commentary to himself while shooting a high-voltage ray at Razor Claw.

The shot missed the ghost but landed a clean hit to the hoverboard, as the device tumbled down ineffective. Not that it really did much- the ghost just used his natural flying abilities to charge at Danny. Honestly, what even was this guy’s selling point?

“Kwan!” Danny heard Paulina call out somewhere to his left.

“Yeah?” The football player asked back. Danny looked over and noticed he had the thermos right next to him.

“Look! The thermos!” Paulina pointed out to their intellectually declined friend.

“Oh yeah, I have it” Kwan held it up to show her from where she was crouched down. Paulina facepalmed.

“Give it to Danny, you dumbass!” Star practically screamed at her boyfriend.

“Oh, Okay!” Kwan said before rearing to throw the thermos at Danny. Proving why he was a starter for the football team, the thermos landed squarely in Danny’s hands. Not wasting any more time, Danny scooped up Razor Claw and the incoming vulture.

“Good teamwork guys!” Danny called out to them cheerfully knowing they wouldn’t return the energy.

“Shut up, Turd Face,” Dash said, pushing the spectator-deflector into his chest roughly for no other reason than to be Dash. He went off to join his friends in doing whatever he and his friends did.

“That was pretty impressive,” Nightwing walked up to meet Danny, handing his bag and spectator-deflector back “With a little training, you could easily be on par with the Robins.”

Danny bent down to put his stuff back in his bag, “If this is your invitation for me to join Batman’s gaggle of furries, I’m gonna have to give you a hard pass.” Danny responded, looking up to see Nightwing look like he couldn’t decide if he should laugh or not. “Respectfully.” He added half-heartedly.

Nightwing watched him in amusem*nt. “I thought I was a fake?” Nightwing prompted as Danny stood up swinging on his backpack.

“They don’t exactly sell High-Density Reinforced Kevlar in your average corner store,” Danny said, knocking on Nightwing’s insignia lightly. The unique sound of the light impact confirmed his point.

Nightwing gave him an inquisitive look (Danny assumed). “Then why did you tell your friend-”

“Uh!” Danny stopped him abruptly, putting a finger in his face, “We’re not friends.” Danny started walking into a nearby store with Nightwing following him. “And to answer your question, Dash can keep a secret but not from Kwan. Kwan would try to keep it a secret but he'll probably let it slip to Star. Star tells Paulina everything. And Paulina definitely cannot keep a secret. So unless you wanted all of Amity in your business for however long you’re supposed to be here, I did you a favor.” Danny finished, looking through the rows of memorabilia the store offered. He picked up a snow globe with a little ghost inside.

Nightwing was quiet for a while, still following behind Danny as they headed to check out. “Aren’t you gonna ask why I’m here?”

“No,” Danny said, easily asking the check-out lady to gift wrap the globe for him. “It’s probably the Dr. Kilye case. It went pretty big. And if it’s not, then I’d rather stay not knowing.”

“Cool cosplay, dude.” Said the check-out lady, handing Danny his gift bag.

“Thanks,” Nightwing responded awkwardly.

“Anyway, see ya.” Danny waved as he walked out of the store. Danny squared his shoulders as he got onto Wes’s bike and rode home.

Chapter 4: the pizza guys is kinda weird

Chapter Text

Danny took his time putting the bike safely in the garage and left his bag in there too. In case he couldn’t stomach staying the night. Grabbing the gift bag, he opened the front door and headed inside.

"Oh-ho-ho! Dann-o!" His father ran up and gave him an enormous hug. Once upon a time, Danny would’ve run up to hug him back. Now, Danny tried his hardest to ignore the feeling of electricity running under his skin at the touch. Danny pulled away.

"Hey, Dad," Danny said, trying to make his voice cheerful. "How was work?" Safe topic.

"It was wonderful, Danny! You wouldn’t believe the new machine we’ve been working on-"

"Danny!" His mother came into the living room for a hug. "How was your day?"

"Was good," Danny said, the feeling coming back. He hated how he was starting to feel claustrophobic in his own skin. "I got you a present. Jazz told me about your promotion," Danny said.

"Oh, honey!" Mom kissed his cheek in appreciation. Danny felt a chill run down his spine. "I’ll open it right now!" Danny smiled at her, the same one he gave at his council meetings. Mom went on and on about how much she loved it and how she would put it in her room so she could look at it every day. Or something like that, Danny wasn’t really listening. When his mom finally turned away, he wiped the kiss off his cheek.

The oven beeped. "Oh, Honey, dinner’s ready."

"I'll go wash up." Danny headed to the bathroom. He scrubbed his cheeks with soap. It was red when he stepped out of the bathroom. Danny wondered if it had bruised. Maybe he should have rubbed harder.

"I was just telling Danny about the new machine, Sweet Fudge," Dad explained to Mom as they sat down at the table.

"Oh, the one with-" Danny tuned them out with the experience of the many years he had spent having dinners like this with Jazz. Normally they would have shared a look and rolled their eyes at their parents’ antics. But Jazz wasn’t here. And neither was the easy-going atmosphere he had taken for granted.

The duo kept talking as they ate, and Danny let them. It was better than him having to talk to them. His skin burned as they talked about their machine. Vaguely, Danny heard Mom say something about rearranging molecules, and suddenly his mashed potatoes felt too cold to eat.

"-which speaking of!" Mom turned to talk to him for the first time.

"We have big news— great news!" Dad said, practically climbing on the table to get Danny’s attention.

"Oh, what is it?" Danny asked, dousing his voice with enthusiasm to match theirs.

“We've got a new job offer!" Mom said, throwing her hands together, excited. Danny quickly put his hands in his lap in case she tried to hold them.

"One all the way in the Caribbean!" Dad added excitedly.

"What?" Danny asked, confused.

"Dalv Co. was so impressed with our work they offered us a leading position."

"Leading position, Dan-o!"

"They just finished building a new research facility. It’s where all the main ecto-research is going to be happening."

"Aren’t you so excited, Danny?"

Danny looked at them baffled, not knowing how to take any of this information. "We— are we moving to the Caribbean?" Danny asked, his brows mushing together as he tried to piece this all together.

"Well, your dad and I thought since you’re already in high school and you have your whole life set up here, it wouldn’t be fair for you to have to move all that way, just for us." She tried placatingly.

Danny let out a sigh of relief.

"We brought it up with Vlad, and he offered to take care of you for the rest of the time we’re gone!" Dad said excitedly.

Vlad . Danny felt himself stiffen. This was all a scheme to get Danny to be his son or whatever the Fruitloop was trying to get off him. Dalv Co gets a new department studying ecto-machinery with the GIW, and the first people they hire are his parents. Not even three months later, they get an offer to get shipped off to Central America for a new location there. Vlad would never offer to do something like that without having ulterior motives.

Nothing’s for sure yet, Danny reminded himself, he can still make this work.

"Vlad?" Danny asked, sowing doubt into his tone, "Why don’t I go stay with Aunt Alica? She could probably use a helping hand, given her age. Jazz and I already stayed there for a while before, so it won’t be anything too hard for either of us." Jazz had gone to stay with Aunt Alica while Danny had been in the portal during the GIW’s Martial Law Overtake, and they had a cover story of the both of them staying there while this whole thing blows over. Aunt Alica wasn’t exactly the most attentive and hadn’t even realized Jazz was there until a week before she had to leave, so Danny would easily have free rein there.

Definitely way better than staying with Vlad.

"Oh, well, I guess I could call up Alicia and ask. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the company. But are you sure you don’t want to stay with Vlad? You won’t be able to see your friends often if you stay all the way with her." Mom questioned.

"Yeah," Danny said, sounding morose, "I’ll stay with her. I wouldn’t want to bother Vlad. He’s already so busy with the town and running his company."

"Aww, our Danny is just so considerate, isn’t he Snookum?" His dad said, and the conversation delved in a different direction. Danny took this opportunity to head upstairs. Making his bed look like he was asleep, he grabbed a few things and snuck out the window.

Biking back to Wes’s house, Danny’s eyes stung with tears. Vaguely, he couldn’t help but feel like he was being followed. But his ghost sense hadn’t gone off, so he was probably fine.

---

Dick wasn’t stalking. He wasn’t. He was doing… recon. Yeah. Checking up on the victim, if you will. Vigilantes do it all the time - nothing weird about it.

Dick had learned his lesson about going around town in costume. Though, the only reason he had done it in the first place was to impress Danny and secure his spot as the favorite brother. Given his competition, he figured it would be an easy win, regardless. Despite Danny’s apparent aversion to “Batman’s gaggle of furries” - Dick could already tell Danny and Tim were gonna get along like a house on fire. After Danny single-handedly defeated the creatures with the power of thermos(?), Dick did some quick shopping.

Now dressed in regular people clothes and his suit stored safely in a book bag that seemed pretty common around here, Dick left The Mall just in time to see Danny biking off. Getting in his rental car, with his newly acquainted knowledge of the Amity streets, Dick subtly followed Danny. Dick would circle the block sometimes to avoid suspicion, and with the help of afternoon traffic, Dick and Danny made it home at the same time. To Danny’s home, that is.

Dick took in the house. On the front of the house, there was a large sign holder, but there was no sign- just weird metal rods sticking out of the house. Though it hardly distracted from the enormous blimp stored on the roof.

Dick watched Danny drag his feet to the door. Dick was curious to know how Danny’s relationship with his parents was and positioning himself with a clear view of the dining room was concerningly easy. Dick had already familiarized himself with all of Danny’s information and records from Dr. Kilye’s database, though he did so with a grain of salt. Having no basis to gauge the accuracy of the files, Dick decided he would gather intel on his own.

It proved to be a good judgment on Dick’s part, considering how the files had depicted Danny as having a good relationship with his family, which seemed hardly the case. Dick watched as the adults greeted Danny with a hug, which would have been normal enough if the boy hadn’t nearly flinched out of it. More concerning was how neither of the adults found it strange; either they didn’t care enough to notice- big red flag- or the behavior was normal enough for them that it wasn’t worth noting- bigger red flag. As Dick watched more of their interaction, he only grew more concerned for Danny. The couple seemed to be in their own world most of the time and hadn’t noticed Danny barely touching his food.

When they turned to talk to him, finally seeming to remember Danny’s presence at the table, they spoke in tandem. It would have seemed cute and romantic, if it weren’t for the way Danny seemed to brace himself at their attention- as if it were automatically a bad thing. Danny’s face went blank for a moment, a seriousness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It lasted only a moment before it morphed into a carefree expression. Danny was pulling a Brucie Wayne. It would’ve been hilarious if the circ*mstances were less grim. The conversation ended, and apparently so did dinner. Danny put away his food, still practically untouched, and went up the stairs.

Danny’s home life was concerning but Dick wondered if he would accept the offer to live with them if (when) Bruce- a proper stranger to the boy- offered it to him. The Wayne family lawyer had won far less favorable cases, the Fenton parents didn’t stand a chance in opposition to them. Legally or physically. But if Danny was the one to oppose, they could hardly force him.

Dick was pulled out of his thoughts when he noticed a familiar figure climbing the side of the house. Where was Danny going at this hour? Dick followed him to his apparent destination, to find the door opened by the redhead boy he had seen at the picnic party- Wes.

“You’re back later than I expected,” Wes said as Danny headed inside.

“Yeah,” was all Danny said in response, his voice small and defeated. Dick couldn’t help but wonder what his parents had talked to him about. From his car, Dick resisted the urge to go give Danny a Dick-Patented-Feel-Better-Hug.

“Adam and I were about to order Pizza. You want your usual?” Wes asked, pulling his phone out, sensing this wasn’t a topic Danny wanted to linger on.

“Sure.” Danny headed inside, out of Dick’s line of sight. “Dude, what is that smell?” Danny asked disgustedly.

“Adam tried his hand at cooking. Hence why we’re ordering Pizza. Again.” Wes said mournfully.

“Crack a window or something, man. It reeks.” Dick could distantly hear a window opening. Deciding to seize the opportunity to find out what Danny and his parents had been talking about, he scanned for cameras before sneaking into their backyard and positioning himself right under the window.

Dick watched (in a very not stalker way) as the two of them plopped on the couch. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, sitting in comfortable silence.

Dick watched as Wes nudged Danny with his elbows. “Video game? Movies?” Danny rubbed his chest as if it hurt but didn’t respond. “You sure you don’t wanna talk about it.” Wes tried again after the silence. Dick had only ever talked to Danny once and it was enough for him to know this was hardly normal behavior for him.

Danny leaned against the armrest, “Apparently they got an offer for a new job. In the Caribbean.”

Wes gaped, “Don’t tell me they’re making you go with them.”

“Told me I should stay with Vlad. Said he offered.” Danny said miserably with a groan. Note to self, Vlad = bad.

“Ugh! That Rat probably schemed this whole thing up.” Wes said, his distaste apparent. Update: Vlad = very bad.

“I tried to convince them to let me stay with Aunt Alica. But I don’t really know how they took that.” Danny finished with a sigh.

“Dude, c’mon, they’ll definitely let you stay with her.” Wes comforted, putting a hand on his shoulder.

If Danny’s parents seemed to be ready to let him stay with others while they planned to leave the country for near-permanent relocation, then it increased the chances in favor of Danny moving in with them. Dick was glad he had talked to Agent Johnson directly, and was able to find out the news was being released officially sometime tomorrow morning.

The boys’ seething silence was drowned out by another boy loudly flying down the stairs into the room, “Wes.” He called loudly, “Did you order the pizza yet?”

“Yeah, I did, fat*ss,” Wes responded, the solemn mood dissipating.

“Oh, Danny’s here.” the boy from the stairs said happily, squeezing himself onto the couch so that Danny sat in the middle of the two other boys.

“Hey, Adam. How’s college?” Danny asked, pulling himself out of his slump.

“Same ol’, same ol’. Y’know how it is.” Adam swatted his hand in the air dismissively, pulling his phone in front of them. “I was catchin’ up on the recent Phantom sightings, but ‘pparently he’s not showin’ up much anymore.” The older boy said, sounding put off. There was a faded accent in his voice- midwestern, maybe?

Phantom? Dick had never heard that name before.

“There haven’t been as many ghost attacks recently, though,” Danny said, placatingly.

“I guess,” Adam mumbled.

“There was one last weekend. He put a few regulars away, but no ones seen ‘em since.” Wes said this time, pulling out his own phone.

Dick noticed a car pull into the front of the house. Getting a closer look, he noticed the pizza sign on the door of the car. Knowing they couldn’t see him from their spots on the couch, Dick jogged over.

“Did you order the pizza for house 1234?” A tired teenager asked, from the driver’s seat.

“Oh yeah, you’re finally here. I’m so hungry!” Dick balanced preppy and mournful.

“Right, here’s your total.” She said holding out the receipt for Dick.

“You wouldn’t happen to have another face mask, would you? I ran out, and I needed to run to the store real quick. Germs, y’know.” Dick asked, seeing the face covering the girl wore.

“We’re not supposed to give them out to customers.” The girl responded, monotonously.

Dick slipped out a larger bill from his wallet, adding it as a tip. “Oh, that’s unfortunate.” He drawled purposefully.

The girl’s eyes widened at the bill. “On second thought, I think I have one in the back. Hold on.”

Dick smiled at her, as she handed him the pizza box and the extra face mask. “Have a nice night.”

“You too, Mister.” The teen said, much more awake as she drove off. Dick made a show of walking to the door before the car finally turned off the street.

Putting on the face mask, the pizza company logo printed on the front, Dick rang the doorbell. He waited, nerves thumping, hoping Danny was the one that answered.

A muffled “I got it.” came from the other side, easily recognizing the voice as Danny’s. Okay, Dick, first impressions are important, you screwed up Nightwing’s already. The door swung open, with a small click.

“Heya! Order for Wes.” Dick said, hoping he guessed the order name right.

“Uh, yeah.” Danny said with a formal smile, “How much do I owe you?” Danny asked, reaching for his pocket.

“Shoot kid, wait! Lemme grab my wallet.” Adam yelped from the other room.

“It’s on the house,” Dick replied, hoping his voice didn’t sound too cheery. Tim said it made him sound like an asshole.

“What?” Danny said, looking up from his wallet in surprise.

“You look like you’ve had a rough day, so it’s on the house,” Dick repeated softly, giving his best eye smile through the mask.

Danny continued to examine him as if something about the interaction was strange. Dick really hoped it wasn’t. This may have been strange in Gotham, but it happened often enough in nicer cities like Metropolis. Amity had seemed nice enough.

“Thanks,” Danny said after a pause, still examining Dick. Wes came to the door as Danny took the boxes of pizza from Dick.

“How much was it?” Wes asked.

Danny ignored his question, “Did I tell you about how I met Nightwing at The Mall today?” he asked Wes, finally looking away from Dick.

“What!” Wes asked, throwing his hands in the air, “You’re lying.”

“Thanks for the food, man,” Danny waved goodbye, and Dick waved back.

Finally getting back in his car, Dick let himself wonder if Danny had him made. That would be ridiculous. There’s no way Danny had figured out his identity with only half his face, and a cumulated 30-minute interaction with two entirely distinct personalities.

“I don’t think I was even that nervous when I asked out my first girlfriend.” Dick mused to himself, driving back to his room.

---

The Drs. Fenton had been having a quick breakfast before work when the phone rang.

“Jack, mind grabbing the phone, Sweetie,” Madaline asked, picking up the empty dishes to put in the sink.

“Grabbing!” Jack's boisterous voice echoed through the house.

“Hello, This is Agent Smith, with the FBI. Have I reached the home of the Fentons?”

“Yes, this is Jack Fenton speaking.”

Chapter 5: bruce’s teenage angst

Chapter Text

Tonight was the third night in a row Bruce spent in his study, staring into the monitor. Tim had noticed and asked why he hadn’t gone patrolling, and he’d even canceled all of his lunch meetings and had barely said anything for the entire Justice League meeting yesterday. Bruce had just told him he was preoccupied with other matters. Tim had inquired further, as he often did, but fortunately, he left it alone when Bruce didn’t give him an answer. Even during his toughest breaks, Bruce had pulled himself together enough to keep a semblance of normalcy. At least to the public eye.

In a way it never had before, it felt like Bruce’s world was truly ripping from the seams. He had watched - could do nothing but watch - his first-born child (not his first child - that was Dick) be struck and prodded with needles, and medical machinery Bruce had never seen before. Machines beeped, sometimes negative then other times positive, but never the answer the doctors and specialists- there were so many specialists- had wanted. A child so still, it had unnerved Bruce with anxiety even then. The child he had painstakingly awaited for 36 weeks - exactly 254 days - only to see him devoid of any life. He never got to laugh or smile or cry like every other baby got to.

He’d been born into a casket, is what one of the reporters had said.

Sending children into caskets and early graves seemed to be all Bruce was good for, anyway.

Closing his eyes, Bruce could see the memorial that still stood in the Cave. He took a breath. It was shakier than he would have liked. If Bruce had been asked if he believed in curses 17 years ago, he would have said no. Now, Bruce wasn’t confident that he was not cursed.

The first left. Driven away by Batman’s incessant need for vengeance disguised as justice.

The second lost. Buried in the smallest grave Bruce ever had the misfortune of seeing.

The third broken. Neither Batman or Bruce were enough to protect her, and now she was the one that had to suffer.

The fourth gone. The limp body plagued Bruce’s darkest dreams, he should’ve been faster, pierced it together sooner.

Bruce had sworn to Batman, and Batman had sworn back - no more children, no more loss, no more heartache.

Yet somehow, Tim had strapped himself into the Robin suit. And Batman couldn’t turn him away. Batman needed a Robin like Gotham needed a Batman. Batman was a selfish, selfish character, and had let another Robin roam Gotham with him. Then Tim had brought in Steph, then Cass joined them, and even later Duke and Damian. And Bruce had selfishly, selfishly taken them all.

The first had come back, a will to do good - be good - forged in the flames of Hephaestus himself, unyielding. And Bruce and Batman had hoped- hoped the world would let him be more greedy.

The third put herself back together and brought the tools of resoluteness back with her. Bruce held up Batman, and they waited - waited to be indulged further. The unlearnt lesson was forgotten again.

And now the second had found himself.

Bruce opened his eyes, the picture he had all but seared into his mind looked back at him- the picture Dick had sent him. Of his son, Daniel, and his friends. Supposedly at some type of birthday event by a local hiking trail. Bruce had examined the picture for all its layers, a picture was a singular moment of a larger event, but he read into it as much as he could, regardless.

Daniel had Thomas Wayne’s eyes. As a child, it had seemed to Bruce that his father’s eyes could see everything - pick up on every lie, and deception, see the true meaning behind things that others would not think to question, understand others before they even seemed to understand themselves. His father’s eyes - ones he thought he’d never get to see again after that fateful day in the alleyway- the ones whose skills he’d painstakingly tried to achieve as Batman- the ones he always seemed to fall just that much shorter of. The identical shade of deep, dry blue, mixed with a hint of stormy gray from his childhood memories, like a storm brewing in a clear blue winter sky, with the same sharp curvature of its almond shape.

Daniel’s smile in the picture was teasing, a light-hearted mirth molded in every aspect of his body language, and a deep care apparent even in a picture as he spoke to a red-haired teen. Bruce could pick up traces of Talia in that smile. The smile so naturally gave off a sense of devious mischievousness that it gave the impression that the person was always up to something sly- the dimness of the photo only added to its effect. Bruce knew from the 10 months he had spent with Talia in the comfort of his home, that was one of the most natural of her smiles.

There seemed to be some features of Daniel’s though that seemed entirely his own. Like the brush of suntan Bruce had never gained because of Gotham’s ever-present smog and heavy nightlife. The lantern placement around the teenage hangout spot seemed to have purposely been placed to perfectly illuminate the slightest scar Daniel had on his left eyebrow. Bruce wondered if Daniel had been a clumsy child.

Bruce couldn’t tell which of the children’s birthdays it was from the picture alone, but he examined the group. From his many years of learning about the physiological development during the various stages of life- for both Batman’s and Bruce’s purposes- he had learned that an underlying similarity in all members of the group was often what held together teenage friend groups. Bruce wondered what similarity the children shared with his son.

The same hobbies? There were half-opened presents set somewhere near the back of the frame, although difficult to see from the angle of the picture. The two that he could make out were a set of video games and a crochet blanket- the other objects not discernible enough for Bruce to make out. Did Daniel enjoy video games? It seemed to be a popular enough pastime for the kids his age.

1. His age was 16.

He was the same age as Tim, and only a year younger than Duke and Steph. So young yet so old. Bruce wondered if Daniel would get along with the other children. Duke had been one of their newest additions, but he seemed to get along pleasantly with everyone. Though Damian, on the other hand, had stayed with them for almost a year now and was only now seeming to lower the sky scraping wall he'd constructed, it was still very present.

Bruce wondered how Damian would take to the news of an older brother- an older blood brother. The chances of him taking it well were slim, Bruce couldn’t logically delude himself to think otherwise. But would Damian warm up to Daniel, like he had with Dick?

That and a billion other thoughts ran through Bruce’s mind. The world’s greatest detective they had called him. Well, called Batman. No amount of detective work seemed to be enough information now.

Dick seemed to have known that before even Bruce had. A type of insight that Bruce had envied even when the other was a child. The promise made to Dick to not deep dive into Daniel’s history was the only tether of sanity Bruce had left. All the training he had undergone before and during Batman seemed to deteriorate when his children were concerned.

A notification popped up on the corner of his screen. A new news article related to Dick’s case. Bruce clicked on it, to read the headline and maybe scan through the article if it at all seemed relevant enough, assuming it was another rendition of the dozens of others that the internet had published and devoured.

7AM NEWS: ACCORDING TO THE CAPTAIN OF THE FBI’S CRIMINAL RESPONSE DIVISION, ZACKARY JOHNSON, A SECURED LIST OF THOSE INVOLVED IN THE CASE HAS BEEN ISSUED.

So absorbed in his thoughts, Bruce nearly jumped out of his seat when his office phone rang. Picking up the phone, Bruce finally noticed the dulled rays of sunlight coming through his window and the now cold cups of tea and coffee Alfred had likely long since served to him. “Bruce Wayne speaking,” Bruce answered, mostly by muscle memory.

“Hello, Mr. Wayne. I’m Agent Carter with the FBI. Are you free to talk right now?” Agent Carter's voice held a healthy combination of politeness and authority.

“Hello, Agent Carter, what can I do for you?” Bruce asked casually in direct opposition to his thundering heart at the knowledge he had received only morsels of.

Chapter 6: what even is your life danny?

Chapter Text

Danny had been shocked awake by Adam practically breaking down the door to Wes’s room as he barged in. “Wake up!” He yelled frantically.

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked, sitting up at the thought of a ghost attack.

“Wha-” Wes asked, bleary-eyed from his side of the bed, drool still wet on his mouth. Adam in all his everlasting energy, practically pushed Wes off the bed, making room for himself.

“Y’know Nightwing’s recent case-” He started excitedly before turning around to face the two of them, his voice more serious, “You know about it, right?” Adam asked. When they both nodded- as if Tucker would have let them go this long not knowing about it- Adam continued in his original energy. “They finally released the names of all the kids that got switched.” Adam started in the same excitement someone would announce they won the lottery in a hallmark movie. “They made this mini-identity check thing, since, y’know it counts as personal medical history, and it legally can’t be free access to the public. It’s actually quite ingenious- yet simple.” Adam’s voice began trailing on the edge of mystification before snapping back to his original energy. “I thought we’d all give it a shot to see if any of us qualify!” He ended happily.

“Dude, how can you have so much energy so early in the morning,” Wes asked, bundling himself in his blanket, his voice heavy in a sleepy drawl even though he looked much more awake now.

“It’s 1:30. Regular people like me have been up for hours now,” Adam responded snottily, shoving a hand in his younger brother’s face. “Also Danny, your phone’s been going crazy all morning. You left it on the couch last night.” Adam said, handing the device to Danny. Opening the lock screen greeted Danny with a plethora of missed calls, all of them from his parents. This would’ve been much less concerning if it weren’t for the minor detail that Danny’s parents never called him. And also because Danny was very much not given authorization to stay at not his room. He really hoped they had been too busy to check and called him on their drive to work or something. Danny hesitantly opened his phone.

“Who was it?” Wes asked, looking over at him.

“My parents,” Danny whispered as if they would somehow appear in front of him if he spoke of them too loud.

“Oh, sh*t.” Adam gasped. Adam and Danny had hung out after he and Wes had become friends, sometimes even without the younger Weston, thanks to their shared interest in machinery and building things. Short of Danny being Phantom, there wasn’t much the older boy didn’t know about him. The hold-off on Phantom bit had only ever been because Danny never could find the place or courage to tell him.

“Did they say what for?” Wes asked.

Danny just shook his head, putting the phone on speaker. Two rings echoed in the still anticipation of the room before the familiar voice of his mom came through the other end. “Hi, sweetie!” She said happily, “Honey, pass the screwdriver.” She spoke to Dad, before instantly switching back to Danny, “Did you just wake up?”

“Oh, uh Yeah. I did. I was-” Danny didn’t even get the chance to come up with some half-assed lie before his mom cut him off.

“We got a call this morning and- no over to the left- you’d never believe who it was.” Mom started, her voice only marginally louder than the loud work of whatever she was doing. Danny had known whatever she was going to say was probably pretty important given that his mom literally never called. But no matter how important of a discussion it may be it would never be worth stopping work for them. Danny wondered how Jazz had known about Mom’s promotion. “The FBI! Can you believe it? Janice, hand me the revolver. They said you were one of the children involved with Dr. Kilye’s case-”

Danny looked up to share a look of shock with Adam and Wes, jaws loose, having pierced the puzzle together.

“-Apparently the child they swapped you with, mine and Jack’s biological child, had been born with an undiagnosable fatal condition, and hadn’t been able to make it past- I think 8 days - right Honey? Oh, it was 17 days. His name was… Philip.”

The strange juxtaposition between the harrowing news and Mom’s light and unsure tone as if they were discussing potential family vacation plans made the news sound all the more horrifying to Danny. He and Jazz had mused a few times about how it was a wonder they both made it this far given their parents’ lack of care for cautionary measures for their experiments. Turns out his parents (apparently they weren’t his parents) had failed, not just Danny but this other kid whose name was probably not Philip.

“We were quite sad about the news.” So sad, in fact, they had taken the time to mourn the loss of the child they never got to meet and take off from work. The sound of the drill echoed through the room. Yeah, she was definitely sad. “But apparently the agent- the FBI agent!- had already talked to your biological parents - you know Jack and I always wondered who it was you took after, and I thought it was my Great Aunt Sally, but Jack always said his late Uncle Bob. Ah! Carson, do the pipette with 8mm of the diluted liquid. Make sure you do it in increments of 10. Oh right, what was I saying? Oh! Your parents- right! They seemed pretty eager to meet you. Or at least your father, I think -or was it your mother, I can’t remember. The other one went missing a while after you were born. I don’t remember all the details- Scarlett, make sure you use beaker 14-5, the other ones have contamination on them and need to be cleaned. Yes, with Chemical Beta-87G. I sent you the phone number they gave me, I figured you’d want to talk to her.” And before Danny could even get a word out she hung up.

Danny wasn’t entirely sure how long he had sat there for before Adam seemed to not be able to take the atmosphere and barreled Danny in a hug. Danny slumped into the comforting embrace, a raspy “What the f*ck?” Escaping him. Wes gave him a comforting squeeze on his shoulder.

“Well, at least the Fenton’s aren’t your real parents,” Wes said, in a tone that was supposed to be comforting, but heavy with an unsure awkwardness.

“Is it bad that I’m kind of relieved?” Danny whispered.

“No.” Adam said, his voice confident, “It’s not bad at all.”

They sat there for a few minutes, Adam not letting go until Danny got up himself, with the excuse of needing a shower, which wasn’t entirely an excuse. Letting the shower help clear his mind, Danny felt fresher to tackle whatever was about to happen with the rest of his day.

There was a palpable silence as the three boys all met in the kitchen. “I’ll make us some food,” Adam said, being the first to leave his spot.

Wes jumped up instantly at the declaration, “No!”

“How about I make us some food.” Danny offered, making his way to the kitchen.

“Yes, that is the better option.” Wes nodded sagely, plopping onto the barstool as Danny took inventory. Adam hauled himself onto the counter, letting his long legs dangle right above the floor as he watched Danny cook.

“Everyone good with guac and egg toast?” Danny asked, grabbing a few ripe Avocados from the fridge. Getting both boys’ approval Danny pulled out a few tomatoes and bell peppers from the fridge to wash.

“You got your bio mom’s number, right? Are you gonna talk to her?” Adam asked his hyper attitude from the morning replaced with a still-eager yet more restrained and slightly somber one.

Danny let himself consider it before responding. “I don’t even know her name or anything though. What would I even say?”

“We could look it up on the thing Adam was tellin’ us about.” Wes offered. “I’ll grab my laptop.”

“Your call,” Adam added.

“Yeah… I think that’d be good.” Danny looked up from the food he was preparing, “Thanks, guys. I dunno how I would’ve taken this without you.” He smiled softly.

“You’re the one cooking for us, man. We should thank you.” Adam laughed.

“Yeah, thanks to you, Mom and Brandon will still have a house to come back to,” Wes said pointedly at Adam, dodging the measuring cup Adam threw in retaliation. Sticking his tongue out tauntingly, Wes headed back to his room to grab his laptop. Adam used the excuse of grabbing the glasses from the cabinets to take a moment and ruffle Danny’s hair fondly.

Plates wiped clean and in the sink, they all huddled around Wes’s laptop as Danny put his information to the FBI’s server.

File Number: 77563

Date of Birth: 12 February 20XX

Name: Daniel Fenton

Assigned Mother: Madeline Fenton (alive)

Assigned Father: Jack Fenton (alive)

Biological Mother: Clarissa King (missing)

Biological Father: Bruce Wayne (alive)

Medical Conditions:

• Normal Birth

• Age 12: Electrocuted

• Hospitalized for 24 hours.

• Developed Acute Bradycardia

• No follow-up medical procedures

“Dude,” Wes gasped reading the file, placing his hand on Danny’s shoulder as he leaned in closer from behind him.

“Your dad-” Adam spluttered, “Your dad is Bruce Wayne?” He practically yelled, turning to look at Danny for confirmation. As if he had any idea what was going on. “Bruce Wayne.” He said, again amazed.

“What even is your life Danny?”

“You just got Cinderella-ed.”

“Did my mom just casually send me Bruce Wayne’s personal phone number?”

“Tucker’s so going to lose his mind.”

Chapter 7: the deadly combo of the cowboy emoji and the murder smile

Chapter Text

“Whenever you’re ready Mr. Wayne.” Danny groaned at Tucker, who plopped down next to him.

Sam, Val, and Tuck had come over to Wes’s place under a code blue. Code blue was for non-Phantom related emergencies that required all hands on deck. They didn’t exactly need code, but it was nice for the ‘hero aesthetic’. They had kept it simple; there were blue, red for classic phantom/ghost-zone emergencies, usually meaning someone needed backup, and yellow. Code yellow meant nothing on its own, but they used its lack of meaning as a failsafe to check if someone was being mind controlled or overshadowed. And because it was kinda lame to just have two codes. They had all gotten there within 30 minutes of the message, ready for anything.

Except this apparently. Chaos ensued after the rest of the group (and Jazz on call) had found out. After they had all taken turns freaking out, they hunkered down to help Danny figure out what he should say to his bio dad, Bruce Wayne(!).

Danny sat, phone ready, to text the number his mom had given him, Sam perched right over his shoulder to make sure he spelled everything right. The others sat around for moral support.

“Just go for it, Danny.”

With a gulp, Danny’s fingers moved across the keypad of his phone.

---

Dick had told Bruce that he should wait to come to Amity Park until Danny’s- Dick told him he preferred Danny instead of Daniel- parents had set up when and where they would meet. Bruce had agreed for only the purpose of cordialness and had berated Dick for abusing case-related information for personal reasons.

So here Bruce was, sitting through the Wayne Enterprise Tech Expo surrounded by reporters, hand itching for his phone ready for any vibration of notifications. His heart leaped when he felt the motion against his chest in the middle of a conversation with a company ambassador.

“-And not to mention the lowering of production cost. We can focus more on the set and props now. In recent years-” Mr. Raptor said as Bruce’s phone vibrated another time.

“I look forward to seeing these changes in your production team, Mr. Raptor.” A third vibration, Bruce could hardly contain his nerves, “I’m quite peckish, I’ll show myself to the hors d'oeuvre.” Not the most tactful exit but it made his intentions clear.

“Oh yes, I heard they hired an acclaimed Michelin chef from Brazil.” It must not have been clear enough. Mr. Raptor walked next to him all the way to the table as Bruce pretended to be enamored by the selection. Raptor continued his speech as Bruce caught Lois Lane’s eyes, giving her a meaningful look.

Finishing up her conversation with another company’s representative, Lois walked purposefully over to Bruce. “Mr. Wayne, it’s great to see you here.” She started eagerly, successfully cutting Raptor off. “You’ve given us such a diverse selection of devices this season. Which would you say you were personally most excited for?” She continued not giving Raptor the time to cut her off, Bruce shifted his attention seamlessly, Lois walking him to a more open area as Bruce supplied her with media-friendly responses.

“Thank you, Lois.” He breathed, once they were in the clear.

“Looks like even the big timers need to be saved sometimes.” She joked knowingly, before leaving Bruce to himself.

Bruce finally pulled out his phone, the curiosity eating away at him. The notification is from an unknown number, having already saved the number of both Drs. Fenton, Bruce was disappointed to see that they still had yet to respond. He opened the messages.

Unknown Number: Hello Mr. Wayne

Unknown Number: This is Danny

Unknown Number: Daniel Fenton, sorry. I guess you wouldn’t know who I am.

Bruce stared at the screen. He blinked. Blinked again. He looked around the room scanning for a familiar figure. His phone vibrated again. Bruce nearly snapped his neck in half with how fast he looked down.

Unknown Number: I got your number from my mom. She told me the gist of what happened. I thought I’d message you myself since my parents are usually busy with work for most of the day. They work in a lab so they don’t really have their phones with them.

“Clark,” Bruce whispered with urgency, knowing the man would be quick to respond.

“Bruce, what’s wrong?” Clark said, appearing from the coral of reporters almost immediately.

“Look.” Bruce shoved the phone in Clark’s face. He read the messages and looked at Bruce with confusion for a few seconds before gasping in realization.

“The case Dick’s been working on?” Bruce nodded.

“What should I say?” Bruce and Clark poured themselves over the phone coming up with the perfect response.

Saving the contact in his phone, Bruce began texting back.

Me (unsent): Danny, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Bruce, Mr. Wayne is too formal.

Bruce hesitated. What now?

Me (unsent): Danny, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Bruce, Mr. Wayne is too formal. I was eager to hear from your parents, but I understand that they may have prior commitments.

“You're being too formal.” Clark chided.

Coming up with a few changes, “Should I send it?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, it looks good.” Clark nodded, Bruce’s fingers snapped away from the send button only thanks to his skills as Batman when Clark backpedaled, “Maybe you should add an emoji.”

“What?”

“Kids use it all the time.”

“I see,” Bruce said, looking through the plethora of emoticons provided by the keyboard. “Which one?”

“How about a smiley face?” The recommendation would’ve been more helpful if there weren’t over 3 lines of different smiley faces. “Ooh, this one has a cute hat. Or you can go with the classic one, here.” They pondered between their choices for a moment. “How about you do both, to show that you're extra happy.”

Bruce nodded, that seemed like a well enough idea.

Me: Danny, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Please call me Bruce, Mr. Wayne is too formal. I was eager to hear from your parents, but I understand they would be busy around normal working hours. 🤠 😀

“Now we wait for him to respond,” Clark said, as they both stared at the screen as if their apt attention would make a difference.

---

“Wait, why did he-?”

“Oh no! What do I say?”

“Bro, he just cowboy emoji-ed you.”

“Went for the double kill with the murder-face emoji.”

“Oh my god, he hates me.”

“Dude he’s old. He definitely doesn’t know what that means.”

“Do I respond?”

“Are you seriously about to ghost Bruce Wayne because he cowboy-faced you?”

“Okay. Okay. Don’t get your ecto-blobs twisted. Ask him what he was talking to mom about.”

---

Tim walked over to where Bruce and Clark had been standing for the past however long. “What are you guys doing?”

“Tim.” Bruce said, looking up at him surprised. “What are you doing here?” Bruce’s screen was pointed away from Tim, it wouldn’t have been weird if not for the strangely tight grip Bruce seemed to have on the object.

“I work here.” Tim responded easily, rolling his eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

“Expo’s done, old man. Alfred’s been waiting for the past half hour.” Tim raised a brow at him. Bruce had been acting really strange since Dick left. Not to mention how strange it was that no one knew where Dick had gone to, not even Bruce (he hadn’t said so, but Tim could tell). Tim had his suspicions that the radio silence and Bruce’s self-isolation had something to do with Dick’s case. Something personal. But Tim wouldn’t make a claim like that without proof, and all his proof was with Dick. Dick had wiped the computer clean before he left. Though that may have been proof enough.

“Oh yes.” Bruce nodded, “I’ll see you later, Clark.”

“Yup. See you. Later.” Tim’s suspicions only grew.

In the car where Tim had nowhere to hide, Bruce turned to speak to him “Tell everyone that we’re having a mandatory meeting in the Batcave after dinner.”

Oh, ho! “Got it,” Tim said casually, keeping his thoughts to himself.

“You too, Agent A.” Bruce added, turning to Alfred.

“I quake in anticipation, sir.”

Tim laughed.

/ Batsh*t Crazy /

Me: Apparently there’s some big reveal today guys

Me: Bruce says mandatory meeting post dinner

Steph: abt what?

Me; Didn't say

Me: But I’m pretty sure it’s about Dick’s case

Duke: Didn’t that hit the news already? Why are we having a meeting now?

Steph: OMG IS DAMIAN ONE OF THE SWITCHIES???

Brat: Father had my DNA tested when I first came to the manor.

Brat: I am his blood son.

Me: Okay Dracula

Tim ignored Damian’s rebuttal in favor of literally everything else.

Needless to say, Tim was right, as he often was, about the subject of the meeting. Unfortunately, he hadn’t shared his theory so he lost gloating privileges. The meeting had gone well enough. Damian had stormed into his room without changing out of his Robin costume. The rest of them would figure out what to do once this “Danny” got here. For now, it was time for patrol.

Bruce had been very clear about the strict no research/stalking their potential newest comer.

---

“Damian.” Father called from the door. “Can I come in?”

Damian pointedly didn’t respond for a while, petting Alfred the Cat who had come to comfort him of the betrayal.

“Damian,” Father said more pointedly but not authoritatively.

“You may enter.”

Father came and sat next to him. Neither of them said anything.

Damian refused to let the silence nip at him. “If you just came here for a nice place to sit, Father, I'm sure there are many places you could’ve chosen.”

Father turned to him and sighed. Damian felt his lips twitch. Father had been the one to come to him, yet he was the one who seemed disinterested in this conversation. Damian’s alleged “brother” had yet to even make himself known and still managed to win father’s affection. Something Damian hadn’t managed over the past year. A formidable enemy indeed.

“Damian,” His father started, gloved hand heavy on Damian’s shoulder. “I know you’re not happy about Danny coming here. But he is your brother.”

“Forgive me for being shocked to learn that I was simply a replacement.” Damian crossed his arms over his chest, Alfred the Cat leaping out of his lap at the sudden motion. Damian huffed, it seemed many had an aversion to him these days.

“You’re not a replacement, Damian.”

“A placeholder then.” Damian’s eyes dripped with rage.

“Damian,” Father said pointedly.

“Tell me, Father.” Damian’s tone grew colder, letting it resemble Batman’s when he interrogated the criminals. “When Daniel comes here and learns of our identities. Will I not be kicked out of the position as Robin just like Drake to accommodate your firstborn son?”

“Tim was not kicked out of being Robin,” Father said. Damian did not miss how he chose to defend Drake instead of trying to convince Damian that he would not be removed from his position as Robin. As needless as it may have been, the lack of sentiment was evident.

“Then perhaps I will be the first of something after all.” Damian huffed, storming out of his own room. It didn’t matter where he went, it was not as if he’d be missed.

Father said nothing else.

Chapter 8: meeting the parents

Chapter Text

Bruce checked into his hotel room late into the afternoon, giving himself a comfortable two hours to get ready for dinner with the Fentons. After much debate with Dick, who had switched from his room at the inn to stay in Bruce’s suite (Bruce had gotten one with an extra room knowing this would happen), they both dressed in a dress shirt and slacks. Dick was the one to drive since he was more familiar with the town.

“I did some digging, and he doesn’t seem to have a great relationship with his parents.” Dick told him in the car, “The parents also took a job that takes them out of the country soon and Danny doesn’t seem too happy about who they want him to stay with.”

Bruce hummed, taking in the information. “That’s concerning.”

“I did a quick background search. Lead researchers at Dalv Co’s new research department. A little spotty on the criminal record, but nothing concerning, mostly DUIs. We can get a read on them today.” Bruce nodded at the information. A few moments passed, “Danny’s got a mouth on him, though. Sarcastic, sassy, and pretty funny. He and Tim would make a dangerous pair. Got some skills too, saw him take out a few petty rouges on his own.” Dick said, cracking a smile.

“He has rouges?” Bruce asked, surprised.

“I don’t think they were after him, specifically. He just happened to be there. I looked into the local vigilantes to see if he could be one of them. One’s a girl with a teched-out suit and a killer hoverboard called Red Huntress, and the other’s a quote-on-quote ghost boy named Phantom.” Dick made air quotes as he spoke, “They seem to have a grudging alliance from what I could tell.”

“Ghost Boy?” Bruce asked incredulously.

“Ghost boy.” Dick confirmed pulling up in front of the Fenton house. “I’m getting the jitters,” Dick said, fixing his hair in the rearview mirror. Bruce empathized, his own nerves bouncing in his stomach.

“Let’s go.” They stepped out of the car.

It seemed like they stood there for both an eternity and barely a passing moment before someone answered the door. At the door stood the boy Bruce had thought he’d never get to see. Messy black hair, (his father’s) blue eyes, and an awkward smile on his face. Bruce remembered the picture and felt it had been a wholly accurate representation while still not doing the boy any justice.

“Hello, Danny. I’m Bruce. I’ve been excited to meet you.” Bruce smiled warmly at the boy, letting himself take the initiative. “This is my oldest son, Richard Grayson. He insisted he come with me.” Bruce said, laughing.

“You would’ve been lost without me, Old Man.” Dick shot back easily, before turning to Danny himself, “Nice to meet you, Danny. You can call me Dick.” Bruce didn’t miss the way Danny’s eyebrow arched up as he shook Dick’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Danny- you already knew that.” Danny fumbled awkwardly. Bruce couldn’t help but find it endearing. “Uh, sorry! Come inside.” He said moving out of the doorway, as Bruce and Dick stepped inside. “The food’s nearly ready, you can come sit.” He said, stringing together his words, as he led them to the dining table.

There was a bit of a commotion coming from the kitchen. Making the turn into the dining room having an open view of the kitchen Bruce could see the various cooking instruments and ingredients piled on the counter and in the sink.

“Oh my, our guests are here, Jack.” Madaline said, her face surprised to see them, “I hadn’t even heard the door. How rude of me, I’m Maddie, this is my husband, Jack. You’ve met Danny. Thanks for grabbing the door, sweetie.”

“We didn’t mean to cause you so much work.” Bruce apologized, looking into the kitchen, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Bruce, this is my oldest son.”

“Richard Grayson, call me Dick.” They all exchanged handshakes, Jack’s was quite firm.

“It was no problem, really.” Maddie waved dismissively at their concern.

“We haven’t had guests in so long, we couldn’t help but go all out for the occasion,” Jack said, beaming at the two. “Take a seat, please.” he implored, pulling out his own seat.

“Danny be a dear and set the table,” Maddie called back in the kitchen.

“Okay,” Danny said, grabbing setting mats and utensils from various places in the kitchen. Bruce noticed the place mats had various birds on them as Danny passed them around the table. Bruce and Dick shared a look of amusem*nt when Dick had been passed one with a blue feathered bird captured mid-flight over a black background.

“Jack, I hear you’re a scientist.” Bruce inquired, making polite conversation. Danny, who had just returned with a stack of plates, sent him a thin-lipped grimace. Bruce soon found out why.

---

Danny was having dinner with Nightwing. It was a bit of a wild guess, sure, but Danny could just tell that the guy who was sitting across from him, the fake-pizza guy from the other day, and Nightwing he had met in the mall were all the same person. They all had the same not-exactly curly, jet-black hair, the same summer ocean blue eyes, the same skin tone scattered with faded acne marks, and the same voice and build. Danny was sure.

Danny remembered the look Bruce and Grayson (Danny was not about to call him dick) had shared and knew that Bruce knew his son was Nightwing.

Bruce was Grayson’s dad.

Grayson was Nightwing.

Batman was Nightwing’s dad (dad figure?).

Did that make Bruce Wayne Batman?

Danny choked on the sip of water he was trying to take. “Are you okay?” Grayson asked, concerned.

Danny nodded, “Yeah.” Bruce seemed to have fallen victim to his parent’s monologues about their work and research. Grayson had taken to watching Danny pick at his food. It was a little unnerving, but Danny tried to act as if he hadn’t noticed. “So, uh” Danny racked his brain for something to say, “What do you do?”

Grayson smiled happily at Danny, seemingly just excited that he had started the conversation, “I’m a cop.”

Danny tried really hard not to look too appalled, “Oh,” his voice betrayed his lack of enthusiasm. Danny noticed Bruce trying to hide his snicker.

“There’s a lot of corruption in the police in Bludhaven, where I live, so I thought I’d try to make it better from the inside,” Grayson explained quickly, his hands waving around as he talked.

Danny blinked at him. “Right.” He said, dragging his words. He noticed Bruce’s shoulder shaking with laughter, as he stayed feigned interest in his parent’s conversation.

“What do you do?” Grayson asked flustered, trying to move the conversation along.

“Are you asking ‘cause you’re a cop?” Danny asked inquisitively.

“No,” Grayson denied quickly, “I just-”

Danny cut him off “I was joking, dude.” He chuckled. “I’m still in high school, but I help around at this mechanic place.”

“Oh, I never had a job in high school,” Grayson said, intrigued at the tidbit of information. Danny was a little surprised at the genuineness apparent in his voice.

“Obviously,” Danny remarked.

Grayson gave him an unimpressed look, losing his scampering attitude from before. “How’d you land a job like that? They don’t normally hire high schoolers for something like that.”

Danny shrugged, “My friend’s older brother used to work there, and he told them I’d be a good pair of hands to have around.”

“That’s so cool.” Grayson smiled. Danny couldn’t help but wonder why this guy seemed to care so much about what he had to say when Danny was just some snarky kid to most adults. “I used to be in a circus.” Grayson offered, “Before I moved in with Bruce,”

“Really?” Danny asked surprised, “Oh wait- the Flying Graysons right? I knew your name was familiar.” Danny recalled.

“Oh, you know about the Flying Graysons? It was before you were born, I’m surprised. How’d you hear about it?”

“There was this traveling circus that came around a few years back called Circus Gothica.” Danny started slowly, ”My friend, Sam, really wanted us to go and explained how they were going to be doing a bit on legendary Flying Graysons, and it was gonna be this whole big thing. She made us watch the videos of a few of their shows so we’d know what it was supposed to look like. Some moves were straight wicked,” Danny said earnestly looking up at Grayson, “I can’t imagine how insane it must’ve been to see them in real life.”

Danny watched as Grayson absorbed the story, “Yeah, they were pretty cool.” He said wistfully, “So how’d you and your friends like the show?”

Danny hesitated before answering, “It was uh- I don’t really think you would be interested.” Danny remembered his friends falling from the line he had been forced to cut, their terrified faces burned in the back of his eyes. Grayson had watched that happen to his parents, and that time there hadn’t been someone to swoop in and catch them at the last moment. “The ringleader ended up getting arrested for using mind control on the people in the circus.” Danny said, letting the fact they were ghosts stay hidden.

“Oh.” Grayson said, alarmed, his brows knitting together.

Changing the topic, “You said you live in Bludhaven right? What’s it like?” Listening to Grayson explain, Danny remembered his theory about Bruce being Batman. He tried to think of a way he could confirm whether it was true. If Nightwing had really been the first Robin, it would align pretty closely with when Bruce had taken Grayson in. Not to mention the obvious father-son dynamic the two of them had. Bruce, although famously a flirt, had claimed to not be romantically interested in men many times, so it would be unlikely that Nightwing/Grayson had multiple father figures in his life. Fortunately, Grayson had brought up how he’d see Nightwing around sometimes, and he worked with the police sometimes.

“Oh, that reminds me of something me and Tucker were talking about yesterday,” Danny said, fabricating a story. Grayson hummed in interest, “He thinks all the Robins are actually the same person,” Sorry Tucker, “which is totally bogus, there’s been at least two. One of them was literally a blonde girl.” Danny said, sewing annoyance into his tone. Danny knew there had actually been five Robins, but he said two to bait Grayson to jump at the chance to fix it. “You grew up in Gotham, right? Then moved to Bludhaven. What do you think?”

“Anyone could tell you there have been five Robins,” Grayson said indignantly. “The first one, my favorite, upgraded to Nightwing. You can only be the boy wonder for so long. I’d imagine.” Hook, line, and sinker. Danny almost felt bad at how easy that was. “The second one… well didn’t make it.” Bruce flinched at the mention. “The third Robin’s kicking around as Red Robin. The fourth one was the girl, and she’s Spoiler now. And then we have the current Robin. Anyone from Gotham could tell you as much.” Danny seriously doubted that claim, but he nodded sagely at the explanation. “There are the other ones too, Red Hood, he was never a robin though.” Dick continued, “Oracle, Ophan, Signal, Batwoman…” He drawled, “The list is pretty long.”

Danny’s suspicions confirmed, and his parent’s conversation over, there was a small lull over the table.

Bruce (Batman!) turned to Danny. Danny found it strange how his smile changed from polite when talking with his parents to a lighter and more genuine one as he spoke to Danny. “I’m curious to know what your first impression of us was, Danny.”

“Well, today wasn’t the first time I’ve met you, so I don’t know if you’d call it a first impression,” Danny said jokingly. He quickly regretted it when both the guests stared at him stunned, as if he had just told them there was a bomb hidden in the mashed potatoes.

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked, blinking slowly.

“There were a few times when Vlad took me to a few galas with him, so he could introduce me as his ward to people. Honestly, the main reason I remember you guys were there was how insistent he was that I behave and make a good impression on The Waynes .” Danny could barely hold in his animosity at the Fruitloop but definitely tried harder with the glare his mother sent him. “The first time was in Washington D.C. for an Independence Day thing, about a year ago. I’m pretty sure you were there too.” Danny said to Grayson, who looked like a second wave of shock hit him at the accusation. “And then there was the one a few months ago in Virginia. There was another kid with you at that time, I think he was my age.” Danny had hoped the explanation would appease whatever issue the two seemed to find with Danny’s answer. But their intense looks persisted, if not heavier, and Danny couldn’t help but squirm in his seat as his mother joined the two.

“Vlad?” Grayson inquired after a long moment.

“He’s a good friend of mine from back in my college days.” Dad answered, “Good ol’ Vladdie.” He reminisced.

“I didn’t know you two were acquainted with Vlad Masters. The world really is a small place after all.” Mom laughed.

“Yes,” Bruce said, scraping the words out of his mouth, “A small place indeed.”

The silence felt deafening, as Danny tried to think of what exactly had gone wrong.

Dick stood up, a strained smile on his face “It’s getting late,”

“Yes, we should head back.” There was a strange hollowness in Bruce’s tone.

Anxiety thundered in Danny’s chest. Screw up .

As Bruce and Grayson shared their ‘nice to meet you’s, and ‘goodbye’s, Mom asked Danny to walk the guests out.

Danny stood at the door, Bruce was already on his way to the car when Grayson turned to say goodbye again. Danny spoke quickly, not wanting the chance to leave or his nerves to stop his voice, “I- uh-” He fumbled, “I didn’t mean to say anything wrong. I’m really sorry if I did. I was just joking.” His hand wrung around the hem of his shirt, his voice not raising above a whisper, knowing that Grayson could still hear him.

“What?” He asked surprised, he stepped closer to Danny, “I’m not- neither of us were mad at you.” He said, surprise still lingering in his tone. Danny’s face was carefully neutral as he looked up at Grayson. “You did nothing wrong, Danny.” Grayson said more sincerely this time. “It’s just that, well we were both really excited when we found out that we could get to meet you since, well, we thought you had died as a baby. And we were just really surprised that you’ve been under our nose the whole time and neither of us knew.” Grayson explained.

Danny tried to tell if he was lying. “Well, I remember thinking he was shorter than I expected when I first met him.” Danny tried.

Grayson burst out laughing at that. Danny wasn’t sure why but he didn’t mind. “That’s exactly what Damian said when he first met Bruce too.”

“Damian?”

“Bruce’s other biological son. He would be about 3 years younger than you. He moved in with us a year ago. You two have the same mother, too.” Grayson explained, between small chuckles.

“Oh,” Danny breathed, “I’ve always wanted a little brother.” Grayson grinned at him, his hand coming down to ruffle his hair. Danny felt a familiar tightening in his chest; his core seemed to feed off the action. He hoped it hadn’t shown. “Um I was wondering, there’s this burger place, it’s pretty popular. If we could go, maybe. If you guys are still here.”

“Of course!” Grayson said enthusiastically, “You probably have school tomorrow, how about we meet you there at 6?”

“Okay.” With a last goodbye and a promise to get his number from Bruce, Grayson drove away.

Chapter 9: oh hey, danny. what a strange coincidence

Chapter Text

/ Authorized Users Only /

Wes: we’re totally crashing right?

Tucker: obvsly dude

Valerie: I wanna meet these ppl for myself

Valarie: Danny’s decision making skills are questionable at best

Sam: yeah somehow he’s wicked smart and the dumbest guy i’ve ever met

Sam: we need to shovel talk them

Valerie: So in 💪🏼

Wes: Adam says hes coming too

---

Me: Hejy im amlost thnelre

Grayson: me and b r in the booth to the right

Danny sent him a thumbs-up emoji before walking inside. He found them easy enough, “Sorry, I didn’t know you guys were already here.”

“Ah don’t sweat it. Bruce just wanted to memorize the menu before you got here because he’s insane like that.” Grayson said, lightly.

“He’s exaggerating.” Bruce said.

“But not wrong.” Grayson said sagely.

Bruce scoffed light-heartedly before turning to Danny again, “We left on a bit of a sour note yesterday,” He said apologetically, “I was upset that even though I was introduced to you, I failed to recognize you. If I had been more attentive then maybe we could’ve had more time together.” As Bruce said all this, he looked straight at Danny, regret and a strange sense of attentiveness in his eyes as he spoke. As if he genuinely cared whether Danny forgave him. “You did nothing wrong, and I apologize for giving you that impression.”

Again Danny was struck by how much weight Bruce and Grayson seemed to put on his opinions and thoughts. Usually, it took a painstaking amount of work on Danny’s part for adults to even take him half-serious, but he had only met them once (not counting The Mall and pizza thing), and yet they spoke to and treated Danny’s words and ideas as if he were an equal. There was a clenching in his chest again, like from last night, this one was a bit stronger. Danny felt like he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“You don’t have to forgive me, until you feel like it, Danny.” Bruce added, a sad smile on his face. Why? Danny didn’t understand. Were they trying to trick him into something? Danny’s skin burned at the thought.

“No, it’s okay.” Danny said quietly. Danny studied Bruce for deception or trickery. If Danny was right and Bruce was Batman, then what would Batman want with Danny? They probably didn’t know about Phantom. At least that way Danny could have an ace up his sleeve if things did go south.

“Why don’t we order? What’s good here?” Grayson asked, taking Danny’s attention.

---

Dick had gone up to order their food, and as he stood in the decent-sized line he thought about Danny’s reaction to Bruce’s apology. Dick had made it very clear to Bruce that he needed to give the boy one before they’d come to meet him.

Danny was all around a snarky, and sarcastic kid, probably pretty smart too, given the job he landed at 16. But thinking back to when Danny had revealed to them that they’d met before, his demeanor had seemed to drop entirely when, from Danny’s perspective, they had been angry with his answer and therefore at him. After seeing Danny interact with his parents they were probably dismissive, and abusive emotionally and maybe even physically. Danny had probably never had a stable or trusting relationship with most of the adults in his life growing up, if his apparent association with Vlad was any indication of that. From what Dick could see, there wasn’t any adult that Danny felt comfortable around. The clear animosity at Vlad and the bristling and quietness with his parents made it apparent.

Then after Bruce had apologized, Danny seemed almost on edge or at least suspicious of Bruce and probably Dick by association. Dick couldn’t understand why or what had led to that. Did their reaction leave that bad of an impression? No that couldn’t be it, he had seemed fine after Dick had explained it to him. Did Danny think they were trying to manipulate him or get something out of meeting him?

“Next in line.” The cashier called. The cashier gave her a number for their order, and when Dick got back to his seat Bruce and Danny seemed to be deep into a conversation about the intricacies of having the Justice League’s base be in space.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Dick asked teasingly, slipping in next to Bruce.

“I was just telling Danny how having a space station as a base of operation is a tactical call.” Bruce said, pointedly.

“As if. It wasn’t a good idea when the JL was just the main seven, but after their expansion project, it’s a liability if not a straight out disadvantage.” Danny scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“How is it a liability?” Dick asked intrigued.

“Whenever there’s a huge invasion or something, where do you think the evil aliens are going to attack first? The huge space satellite with at least a handful of heroes on it at all times, with state-of-the-art weapons and tech, full of information about literally everything worth having information on probably has no external defenses because no one would think to sneak into a space station, seems like a pretty good start.” Danny explained, Dick watched Bruce appraise his information. “I bet I could get in if I figured out how to get to space.”

Bruce raised an amused brow at him, “You think you could break into the Watchtower?”

“Easy.” Danny proclaimed, sporting a wicked grin.

Before Dick could say anything, someone came up to their table. “Danny!” The boy, Dick recognized as Tucker, said with an exaggerated fake surprise, “What a surprise seeing you here. At the Nasty Burger. Around 6 o’clock. Today.”

“Tucker? Why- What are you doing here?” Danny asked surprised.

“I was just passing by,” Tucker said, shrugging dramatically. Danny gave him an accusing and disbelieving look. “My, my who are these people here with you, Danny?” Tucker asked, sliding into the seat next to Danny.

“Tucker, you know who they are,” Danny said exasperated.

But it seemed like they had more guests. “Danny! Wow, I wasn’t expecting you here. Small world, huh?” Sam (?) walked over preppi-ly which didn’t match her grunge aesthetic. Her hands hooked with Val’s as they walked together.

“Small world,” Val repeated with a fake smile. The two of them sat down next to Danny and Tucker.

Danny put his head in his hands, “I should’ve known.”

“You should’ve.” Sam nodded.

“But you didn’t.” Val chastised jokingly.

Next another boy comes dashing into the restaurant wearing a basketball jersey.

“You’re late,” Val says, admonishingly. Tucker and Sam shake their heads, and Danny sighs in exasperation.

“I literally ran here.” Wes said in between huffs of air, slumping in next to Val.

The group of teens who had been teasing each other, in a very strange synchronous action, turn their heads to look at Bruce and Dick. Dick was really regretting watching Anabelle last night.

“I think we’ll need more food,” Bruce commented lightly.

---

“So, dick .” Sam started, munching on a fry. “Tell us about yourself.”

“Like what?” Dick asked

Valerie (“Do not call me Val.”) answered, “What do you do?”

“I’m a cop in Bludhaven.” Dick was met with four pairs of dubious eyes. Danny sent him a small-lipped look of disappointment, he wasn’t sure whether it was for him or at him. Maybe Dick should look into getting a new day job.

“Write that down.” Sam gestured to Tucker.

“Already on it,” Tucker reported, scribbling something with a stylus.

“You guys are taking this very seriously,” Bruce commented, smiling.

“It is serious.” Tucker responded.

“What if you guys are in some child trafficking ring?” Wes commented.

“Why would they be-” Danny started, before Wes turned to him and very seriously said,

“That’s exactly the question, Danny. Why would they?” Wes thoughtfully turned to look at Bruce warily.

“Y’know, let’s just dive into the important questions shall we?” Sam asked, her preppy attitude from before gone, replaced by a hard glare at the two of them. It reminded Dick of Titus. “What’s your opinion on the basem*nts?”

“Basem*nts?” Bruce repeated, confused.

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first eccentric billionaire to insist Danny be their son. And we’ve noticed a few patterns.” Tucker informed them as if they were talking about something completely normal and mundane. Though, Dick couldn’t really argue. Bruce was also an eccentric billionaire with a secret basem*nt.

“Well, we have a basem*nt,” Dick said hesitantly. “Does that dock us points?” He asked Tucker, half-joking, half-concerned.

“Tentative.”

“So what do you do in your basem*nt?” Wes asked, sipping on a milkshake.

“Normal basem*nt things.” Dick lied.

“Such as…” Valarie implored, eyes suspicious.

Dick hesitated thinking about what to say. Bruce hadn’t said anything either. But Danny took the time to tell his friends, “Guys I really don’t think that should be a problem. I mean, would someone like Vlad really go for the ‘let’s have dinner so my family can meet your family and we can get to know each other’ approach when the ‘let me drug and kidnap you and stick you in a cloning pod’ approach was right there.”

His friends seemed to consider this before they all nodded and agreed.

“Vlad Masters drugged and kidnaped you to put you in a cloning pod?” Bruce asked, concerned.

“No,” Danny said, offhandedly, not bothering to elaborate. Someone should really look into that guy.

“O-M-G, is that Paulina?” Wes said pointedly, a menacing grin on his face as he looked at Danny, who in turn looked alarmed.

“Aw, Danny you should go say ‘Hi’.” Tucker cooed, teasingly, Danny groaned, his ears flushing in embarrassment.

“Guys, stop.” Sam said finally, “We wouldn’t want another spoon incident.” A grin cracked on her face. Danny buried his face in his hands.

Dick looked over to see who they were talking about. There were two girls, one was a blond girl with her arms hooked around Kwan from The Mall, and the other was a darker skinned girl wearing a pink crop top. Dick wasn’t sure who Paulina was, but it didn’t really matter, as he took his chance to tease his brother. “You have a crush on Paulina?” He asked teasingly. Bruce was smiling next to him.

“No.” Danny denied it fervently. “I mean- I did. Like forever ago. But not anymore.”

“He’s since moved on to more attainable targets.” Tucker nodded. Received a smack from Sam and a spoon to the face from Valerie. “Ow. What? It’s true.”

“Y’know what they say. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.” Wes added with a snicker.

“Wes,” Danny groaned at the same time as Sam and Valarie hissed his name.

“I sense a story.” Bruce commented, sipping his drink.

“It all started when we were fresh little freshmen. Danny had his little crush on Paulina. I was just trying to get by, y’know. Not all of us have Wayne genes.” Tucker started pointedly.

“What- we didn’t know about that till this week.” Danny pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t there, dude.” Wes spoke up. Sam and Valerie stayed suspiciously quiet. Dick’s smirk only grew.

“As I was saying, we’re just doing normal freshman things, when Sammy here,” Tucker points to Sam with his head, “starts crushing. Big time.”

“It was not that bad.” Sam points out.

“It was, in fact, that bad.” Tucker said, looking at Bruce and Dick, “But at the same time Danny and Val have a little enemies-to-lovers thing and then they both start crushing on each other. And they dated for a while, but then they broke up cause Val had a lot on her plate at the time. Danny was all mopey and heartbroken. And then Sam swoops in like his little knight in glowing armor, then they start dating. And all the while I’m here single and alone.” Tucker shakes his head mournfully.

“I was not all mopey and heartbroken.” Danny defends himself.

“You so were dude.” Tucker says.

“Yeah.” Sam agrees.

“But then Sam and Danny decide that they’re better off as friends because Danny kinda had a lot to deal with. And now we’re all best friends.” Tucker concluded, cheerfully.

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh, Bruce.” Dick says slyly. Bruce huffed.

“Then what about the spoon incident?” Bruce asked.

“Oh, that was back when there were a lot of ghost attacks, and the school had my parents come in to run security. And this one time we were having lunch outside, and they just showed up out of nowhere. And I got kinda spooked and…” Danny’s voice trailed off into a mumble, and Dick couldn’t catch the last bit.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“He said he swallowed a spoon.” Wes spoke up.

“What?” Bruce asked, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, I got it out.” Danny waved dismissively.

“How?” Dick asked, confused.

“Uh, I just did.” He waved again. Before Dick could ask any more questions, someone else decided to show up.

“Oh good, I thought I missed you guys.” Another red-haired boy showed up. “Hi, I’m Adam, Wes’s brother.” Dick recognized the accent the boy had. He stuck out a hand for Dick to shake,

“Dick, Nice to meet you.”

“Bruce.”

“I should apologize for intruding, these guys probably just barged in.” Adam said, looking at the kids pointedly, no real heat behind his eyes.

“It’s no problem really. I’m glad to meet Danny’s friends. They all seem to get along great.” Bruce smiled at him, as he pulled up a nearby chair to join the group.

“I wasn’t sure how long you guys would be staying so I thought I'd show my face before I had to leave for college. I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” Adam said, pleasantly.

“Oh, where do you go to college?" Bruce asked.

“Gotham U. I’m going to start my second year for mechanical and chemical engineering.” Adam munching on a stolen fry from Wes’s plate.

“Is that why we’ll be seeing a lot of each other?” Dick asked, with a laugh.

“Oh, I guess that too.” Adam nodded, “I meant ‘cause Danny and Wes are dating.”

There was a singular beat of silence before the aforementioned boys looked at Adam with absolute shock. “What?”

Adam blinked, “Well, I mean you never told me, but it was pretty obvious.”

“What? What was obvious?” Wes asked in indignation.

“It’s okay. We don’t mind or anything-” Dick started

“We’re not dating!” Danny cut him off. Danny turned to look at his other friends for support, but they seemed to recede into themselves. “You guys thought we were dating?”

“Well, you never exactly told me that you and Sam started dating. I thought we were just gonna roll with it.”

“Dude the entire school thinks you’re dating. Or long lost twins.” Valarie interjected to Danny and Wes’s horror.

“Or twins that were dating.” Sam added helpfully.

“Wait so you’re not dating?” Adam asked, confused.

“No!”

“But Danny comes over all the time?”

“To hang out!”

“And to avoid my parents.”

“You used to follow him around everywhere. You specifically wrote in your calendar ‘Danny Time’ so often that you abbreviated it to D-T. I thought you just had a crush on him.”

“You wrote that in your calendar?” Danny asked, turning to Wes.

“Well- I.” Wes tried “That’s not- I don’t have a crush on him,” His face lit up in embarrassment.

“Well, I mean there’s nothing wrong with-” Adam tried,

“I. Do. Not. Like. Him.” Wes stressed, “I barely tolerated him.”

“For the record, Danny and Val hated each other too.”

“Not helping, Foley.” Wes glared.

“Ok.”

“Hm.” Adam nodded thoughtfully, “I sense that I’ve made an error.”

“ Error? ”

“I have to go… do things. Somewhere else. Bye.” Adam said standing up, “Nice meeting you.” And bolted out the door. Wes glared at his brother.

“So…” Valarie whistled.

Danny and Wes looked at each other, shuddered, and looked away.

Dick couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, the others soon joining in.

---

“Is there somewhere else you would like to go, Danny? I’d be happy to spend more time with you, you can invite your friends if you’d feel more comfortable.” Bruce asked him, as they walked out of the Nasty Burger after everyone else had left.

Danny hadn’t been expecting that, he looked at Bruce who had stopped outside the door. “Uh, when do you guys have to go back?” He asked tentatively.

“When you get sick of us.” Dick joked. There was a meaningful look in his eyes that told Danny that he meant it.

“Or you decide that you’d like to come stay with us.” Bruce offered softly, “But it’s your decision.”

Danny had been suspicious earlier, but there was definitely something strange happening. Not only are they skipping their day jobs for a seemingly indefinite amount of time, but they’re skipping their hero-ing too. For what? It couldn’t just be for him. Last time someone had decided to take that much time off for him, they went to Chicago.

“There’s a planetarium, a while out of town. I like to go there sometimes.”

“Sure we can go.”

“It’s a bit of a trip,” Danny added.

“Should we pick you up then? After school tomorrow?”

Danny thought for a second, before answering. Vlad had tried the generous rich guy approach, and how did that turn out? He’d feel them out, maybe push their button. If there was one thing rich people hated, it was someone wasting their time.

“I have work tomorrow, so I don’t think I can.” Danny lied, letting his voice sound regretful. “They’re kinda strict, especially since I’m kind of the youngest.” Bruce frowned slightly. Bulls-eye.

“That’s too bad.” Grayson said, “When are you free then?” A bit of a hard nut, but even diamonds break under pressure.

“The day after should be fine.”

“Then we’ll pick you up from school since it’s far. Where do you go?” Bruce asked. He was probably jumping at the chance to get Danny to an isolated place to do whatever he was planning.

“Casper High.”

“It’s late, how about we drive you home?”

---

Richard Grayson stepped out of the shower, the sun shining beautifully through the half-parted curtains of his room. Richard picked up his phone to check for any notifications. There’s one from Danny.

littlest duckling: hedy i just takjled to my boiss n he saifd im goohf for todsay ⭐

Richard chuckled at Daniel’s code-adjacent text, and let Daniel know that they would be there to get him from school.

“Bruce, Danny said we’re on for today.” Richard announced as he stepped into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee.

“Hm. I was doing a round search of all the mechanic places here and found the one Danny works at. We should have an inspection run to make sure that everything there is up to code.” Bruce Wayne spoke from his spot on the dining table.

“Good morning to you too.” Richard sighs, before sitting down next to Bruce.

“Do you think they discriminate against Danny for being the youngest? He said his boss was hard on him,” Bruce spoke again, busy on his laptop.

Richard and Bruce go about their morning completely unaware of the invisible spirit of Phantom spying on them.

Chapter 10: a low stakes game of hide and seek

Chapter Text

Danny’s day started a lot earlier than he would’ve liked. It was the price he had to pay for his investigation. He would need to pull out all the stops if he wanted to get the drop on Batman and Nightwing. Danny pulled out his phone and texted Grayson that his boss changed his mind and he actually could go out today. If there’s one thing rich people didn’t like was a change of plans and wishy-washy people.

While the rest of Amity Park got ready for the day, Danny went ghost and headed off to find Bruce and Grayson’s room. Peeking over the attendants shoulder, Danny easily found the room his biological father and his adopted son were staying in. Double checking his invisibility Phantom snuck in to spy on them.

Hearing some shuffling in one of the rooms, Danny decided to investigate. Grayson had just stepped out of the shower, his hair unusually flat from being wet. Not bothering to dry it, Grayson headed to the bed where he left his phone, he scrolled through his notifications before he found Danny’s text from earlier.

Danny watched for Grayson’s reaction. If he thought he was alone then there would be no reason for him to fake it. With a partial view of the screen Danny could see him click to open a conversation. The corner of Grayson’s lip twitched up almost like a smile but not quite. He clicked at the keyboard of his phone for a few seconds before tossing the phone into his back pocket with a quiet chuckle. Danny felt the silent vibration of a new text in his thigh.

Not sure how to interpret that, Danny left the room and headed back to the main room. He found Bruce at the dining table in front of a bagel and a laptop. Being more wary now, Danny didn’t shuffle around as much and stuck to one corner of the room. Unfortunately that did not give him a view of what Bruce was doing on the laptop. The intense focus led Danny to believe that he must be catching up on whatever CEO work he had missed because of Danny.

A few moments after Danny, Grayson made his way to the kitchen. Fixing himself a light sandwich, “Danny said he’s good for today.” The taller man informed Bruce with minimal thought.

“Hm. I was doing a round search of all the mechanic places here and found the one Danny works at. We should have an inspection run to make sure that everything there is up to code.” Bruce shared with Grayson. Why was Bruce sourcing his stories? He must not trust Danny, afterall.

“Good morning to you too.” Grayson sighed, not at all questioning his lack of faith. He must be in on it too.

“Do you think they discriminate against Danny for being the youngest? He said his boss was hard on him,” Bruce added after a series of typing and clicking.

“Have you considered, maybe, you’re going overboard?” Grayson asked in a playfully chastising tone, giving a light eyebrow raise at the older man.

“I am perfectly on board.” Bruce responded in a deadpan monotone matching his expression.

Grayson scoffed, as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Give him a chance to tell you things on his own terms instead of digging into anything he offhandedly mentions.” Danny brows pinched in confusion. Why would Grayson be advocating for him? Grayson and Bruce were the ultimate duo, the original Batman and Robin. Sure they had their hiccups, but they were always on the same page. Had they somehow managed to figure out he was watching them?

Maybe Danny was being too optimistic. Grayson just wanted Danny to fall into their trap unprepared, but on Danny's own terms so he would have to take responsibility for whatever happened. The elite always knew their way around the legal system, it was their system after all. “That's kinda how the ‘getting to know you’ thing works, in case you forgot.” Grayson said, as he sat down next to Bruce at the table.

“Hm.” Bruce hummed after a moment, and continued to do more tapping and typing on his laptop that Danny couldn’t see. As much as he wanted to move to be able to see the laptop screen, his current position gave him a view of the entire common space of the 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom suite that could more accurately be described as a fully furnished apartment. Danny couldn’t risk being caught in between those large berths of movement. The Batman and Nightwing weren’t opponents to underestimate. So Danny stayed still as Bruce munched away at his bagel in silence in front of his laptop screen.

There was a small moment where Grayson peeked over to get a view of the laptop screen, and reacted with a small shake of his head as he walked back towards the kitchen. A few hours passed with Bruce busied on the laptop, and Grayson picking a much more visible spot on the sofa going through follow ups on his case, and a few phone calls between the both of them.

It was nearly 12:45 when Bruce finally shut the laptop. He got up from his seat and lightly stretched. If ghosts had muscles, Danny’s would’ve been aching by now, but he stayed glued to the same spot regardless. Bruce walked the short distance to the couch Grayson was sprawled on, “Let’s get a feel for the area before Danny’s out of school.” There were 2 more hours. Perfect, this was exactly the action Danny wanted to catch them in.

“Alright, we can grab a coffee on the way out.” Grayson turned to him, typing away without checking the screen.

“You already had coffee earlier.”

“And?” Grayson asked, raising a daring eyebrow. Bruce only sighed before heading to get ready.

The duo was at the door within 15 minutes, ready to leave. Bruce checked his pockets to make sure he had everything he needed, Grayson doing the same. Phantom decided this was the time to make the trek to the other side of the suite, staying as close to the ceiling as he could while making sure he didn’t phase into the surrounding rooms. Danny had been so preoccupied with keeping his eyes on the two of them, and not phasing away that he completely forgot that the light fixture above the dining table Bruce had been at. The dainty metal rods holding up the flower shaped light weren’t entirely stiff, easily set into a rocking motion by light wind. Or in this case, a ghost phasing through it.

Phantom noticed the motion at the same time as the suite residents, their heads snapping towards the light in terrifying sync, a piercing analytical gaze calculating all the possibilities. Danny stood as still as he possibly could, very aware of the lack of a beating heart in his chest.

“Dick.” Bruce called in a voice that Danny had heard on the news so often as a child. This time there was no cowl concealing his features.

“Maybe their ghost stories about this town were actually true.” He said in a tone that made it obvious that he didn’t believe in the so-called rumors. Bruce’s eyes didn’t leave the moving fixture until it was completely stilled, as if it too were intimidated by the Dark Knight of Gotham. When Bruce started moving closer to Danny’s hiding spot, Grayson spoke again, “It’s probably just the upstairs guests, we already checked the room for bugs. If we don’t hurry we’re not going to make it in time to pick up Danny.” He said the last line more pointedly, as if it held more weight than the rationale preceding it.

Danny knew how the drill went, he learned it the hard way with Vlad. Bruce was no different, other than the higher rate of success of collecting children. He would find out what they were up to, and play them at their own game.

---

Danny sat invisibly in the back of the Mercedes-Benz Bruce drove around town. The car ride was silent, neither Dick nor he said anything. Bruce had put some kind of GPS-adjacent device on the infotainment system, where half the screen displayed the map like a regular GPS, and the other half of the screen instead of showing directions to any specific location, had the name of the current road they were on printed out, and the road would get highlighted on the map. Danny stayed as silent and still as he could, deciding he couldn’t rely on just his ghost abilities to carry him when his opponent was one the Justice League founders. Bruce drove the car around the streets and local roads of Amity Park, Grayson’s eyes filtering through all the surroundings like he was trying to memorize the entire city. He probably was.

Grayson was the one to break the silence, “1:15” was all he said. The sudden sound nearly scared Danny the rest of the way to death.

Bruce didn’t seem to need any more instruction, turning on the actual GPS to Casper High. “Let him know we’re on the way.”

“Already on it.” It only took a moment for Danny to feel a small vibration in his thigh where he had stored his phone.

The silence reigned again until they pulled into the school parking lot 10 minutes before dismissal. Bruce parked the car, and Grayson took a quick snap of his surroundings. Danny looked carefully over his shoulder to see what the message Grayson was drafting.

Me: We’re heading over to come pick u up!

[20 minutes later]

Me: [picture]

Me: Bruce and I will wait in the car to not attract too much attention

Me: Black Mercedes

Me: Unless u want us to make a nice dramatic entrance 😏

Me: just give the word

Grayson chuckled lightly at the last few texts as he sent, leaning back leisurely in his seat as he put his phone down but still held it ready. Bruce looked calculatingly at the school building. “This building doesn’t look like it would pass a health inspection.” Bruce commented. Danny couldn’t help but raise an incredulous brow at him even if the man couldn’t see it.

Grayson half-heartedly rolled his eyes at him, “I bet the building’s just going to fall on him in the middle of class.”

Now Bruce fully turned to look at him, “That does seem like a possibility, doesn’t it.” He said with unparalleled conviction.

“I was joking,” Grayson clarified, much more mildly disturbed by the statement than Danny was. “I’m sure the school is fine.”

“I should have a word with Mayor Masters.” Was Bruce in cahoots with Vlad? He probably wouldn’t know about his vampire halfa status, but even being business partners with someone like that was a red flag in Danny’s book. Politically and socially, Bruce Wayne had more power than Vladamir Masters. But how well could Batman hold up against Plasmius? “What have you found on the local Phantom?” If Phantom had a beating heart, it would’ve leaped out of his chest.

“Not much. Public opinion can't decide whether he’s a hero or a villain. You could scroll for hours on his fan pages, plural. But there’s just as many articles about how he’s a menace and should be,” Grayson put up air quotes for the next part, “ Dealt with .”

Danny examined Bruce for every expression and micro-expression. If Batman was still unaware that Phantom was in his presence, he would have no reason to hide his intentions with his human or ghost persona. There was a slight down turn of his lip, displeasure, his eyebrows stitched themselves together into well creased folds, considering. Bruce’s shoulders tensed and he scanned his surroundings as if he would go up to Phantom and demand the truth from him, himself. A second later Bruce turned back to Grayson, “And what do you think?”

“Most of the articles against Phantom don’t have any sustainable proof other than destruction of property that, by the sound of it, he didn’t cause. They tend to use similar language and phrases of what I can only label prejudice against,” Grayson hesitated for just a moment trying to find his next word, “er- ghost-adjacent creatures.” Grayson paused, letting Bruce take in the information before continuing. “Contradictory, the fan pages have whole sections of first hand accounts, some anonymous, of how he helped them. There are pages of analytical dissections of his fights, with video evidence, though most of them are heavily corrupted. I cross-checked, and most of the stories seem to align with each other. Most of the accounts and posts are from younger people, most under the age of 27.” Grayson concluded, professionally. The tension between Danny’s shoulders eased slightly. Of course, they were heroes too, members of the JLA. They would know how to find other heroes, not that Danny would consider Phantom a hero. But it was comforting to know that he wouldn’t be on the Justice League's black list. Or the Bats.

“Evidence seems to point in the same direction. I’ll trust your judgment.” Bruce conceded without too much thought, and Grayson nodded in understanding.

Danny analyzed the interaction. By the sound of it, Bruce hadn't done much of his own research on Phantom, preliminary at best. But he seemed to take Grayson’s words and conclusions as presented. Batman and Nightwing had always been a dynamic duo, equally as iconic as the infamous Batman and Robin. They fought often, especially in Nightwing's early days, but their teamwork never suffered for it. Ever since Nightwings debut, there were only a few times they worked together, and usually it was circ*mstantial rather than purposeful. There were no attacks, no villains, no threats in Amity Park. Yet here they both were. Danny wasn’t entirely sure what that implied, but he needed to make sure he didn’t end up on the receiving end of it. On the other hand, Richard Grayson, wasn’t hardly as secretive as Bruce, less defensive, and marginally easier to read. If he could find Grayson’s angle, he could find Bruce’s.

Phantom was brought back to the present when the short breath of silence was broken by Grayson again. “I found most of Danny’s friends there.”

Bruce’s attention was caught. Danny couldn’t help but feel unnerved how quickly he grew attentive at his name. Bruce’s eyes were slightly wide in intrigue and surprise, and based on Grayson’s knowing smirk, it was exactly what he was fishing for. “Where?” Grayson’s expression seemed to have no effect on him as he walked right into the obvious mouse trap.

“Online, on the Phantom Phorums.” Grayson didn’t elaborate any more than that. But Bruce still leaned into the conversation.

Not wasting a second, “What did they say?”

“Phantom’s adoring fans.”

Bruce nodded at the information, as if Grayson was simply confirming that the sky was in fact blue, “What did Danny say?” He asked, in what was the closest Danny had ever heard the adult man sound eager.

“I couldn’t trace any of the accounts back to him, it didn’t look like he ever posted anything. But his friends mentioned how Phantom saved him a few times from ghosts and the like.” Grayson turned back to look at the school entrance, the line of cars had grown to stretch down the street waiting for class to be let out. “By the sound of it, I wouldn’t imagine he’d disagree with them.”

Bruce turned forward. Danny could see the new intel soak through his pores, and melt into his flesh. “I suppose I should speak with Phantom in person then.” Grayson chuckled at his remark.

---

When the bell rang in Danny’s school, the students filtered out through the doors. The assortment of teenagers filed into their designated yellow school buses, some beelined to various cars, and others loitered on the grass lawn of the school grounds. Dick looked around eagerly for their teenager, the mop of black hair that would make his way to their car.

Minutes passed slowly. Dick checked his phone, his texts still left on delivered. He glanced over at the man in the driver's seat, finger dribbling against his thigh. Dick’s own nerves were starting to get the better of him.

“Did he say anything, yet?” Bruce asked, voice controlled and bordering monotone.

Dick glanced at his phone to double check before shaking his head. Scanning what remained of the still thinning crowd of adolescents, Dick found a group that looked familiar. “I see his friends, I’ll go ask them. Maybe he got stopped by a teacher.” Bruce had a conflicted look on his face, and Dick could understand why. “I’ll step out and call you, and you can hear exactly what they say.” Dick offered, unstrapping his seatbelt. Bruce could only sigh as he conceded.

Dick put his phone in his pocket with the microphone just exposed to catch the conversation unnoticed. Dick approached the group, Sam, Valerie, Tucker, and Wes standing together. They hadn’t spotted Dick yet, deeply engrossed in their conversation when Dick caught a throw away line.

“Danny totally made the right decision skipping today.” Wes commented with an exhausted sigh.

Dick could practically feel Bruce’s anxiety radiating off of him even from this far. Or it might have been Dick’s. “What do you mean Danny skipped today?” He asked the small crowd who jumped at his intrusion.

“What?” Sam voiced, confused, “Wasn’t he…” She looked around at the others confused, a silent conversation passed between their eyes. Valerie looked at him appraisingly, like Dick was testing them. He did not like the implications of that.

“His parents called him out to go visit his aunt.” Valarie said. If it weren’t for the uncertainty in her friends eyes, and the defensiveness in her voice, Dick might have believed her.

“Oh, he didn’t say anything to us about that. Why did they go visit his aunt on such short notice?” Dick kept his voice easy and light, leaning into his airhead persona to conceal his suspicions. By the self-satisfaction in Valerie's eyes, she believed it.

“She got sick and couldn’t take the train to the hospital, so his parents were taking her.” Tucker offered, trying to sound empathetic about the fake scenario.

Dick let the ends of his eyebrows arch down for a sad expression. Wes took his chance to add on to their skit, “He had to go to help on the farm.” Sam and Valarie gave him an incredulous side-eye, but Tucker nodded solemnly. Dick stuck his hand into his pocket, tapping twice on the speaker of the phone knowing Bruce would recognize the signal.

Not only had Danny not been at school today, or checked any of his messages which he had previously been replying to quite aptly, his friends did not know where he was either. Things were escalating. The last time Danny had messaged him had been 7:26 that morning, 7 hours and 19 minutes ago.

Dick’s mind raced at the possibilities, but he plastered an understanding smile on his face, “That’s unfortunate.” He sighed, “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Yup.” Tucker chirped a little too fast, nodding along animatedly.

“No problem, man.” Wes waved as Dick walked back towards his car.

The tension in the car as Bruce sped back to the hotel room was palpable. Not bothering to break all the way before shifting gear, Bruce quickly made his way to the hotel room, where he had access to the satellite servers and security cameras. Dick buckled himself into the driver's seat taking off through the streets to where he knew Danny’s parents worked. Dick’s phone connected to the car, Bruce’s analysis echoing through the speakers.

“Drs. Fenton arrived at Dalv Co. Research Center 7:38 AM, and have not exited the building since.” Bruce reported the loud clicking of his keyboard parading through the car speakers. “Security footage shows they have been in the building since their arrival.” There was a pause, “Footage is secure.”

“I doubt his parents know where he is either. Are you going to tell them?” Dick swerved into the highway back to town, not caring about the car behind him honking for cutting them off.

“That would be the most responsible course of action.” Bruce concluded after a moment, “Standby.”

“Copy.” Dick scanned his surroundings as if Danny would appear on the side of the road because they were looking for him. He pressed the accelerator to well above recommended speed.

Bruce switched lines but Dick could still hear the other call through the phone speaker. “Dr. Fenton speaking.” A feminine voice rang through the car.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Fenton. This is Bruce speaking,” Bruce paused to let Dr. Fenton respond.

“Oh, Bruce.” Dr. Fenton said with affirmation, “Honey, it's Danny’s father.” She said to, presumably, her husband.

This time Bruce didn’t wait for the pleasantries, “Dr. Fenton, Danny had previously affirmed meeting with us today, but he hasn’t been seen since 7:20 this morning, and his friends seem to not know where he is either. Would you have any clues to where he might have gone?” Bruce's voice was controlled. Enough to show that he cared, but just barely managed to real in his spiraling anxiety.

“Oh,” Dr. Fenton laughed, “Please, call me Maddie, everyone does.” She laughed pleasantly, not worried in the slightest. Dick grinded his teeth, these two didn’t seem to be suited to be parents at all. “Maybe he skipped school to go on a date with his girlfriend, Sam.”

“I always liked her,” Jack added from the side. Not seeming to know that they had long since broken up.

“She didn’t seem to know where he was either.” Bruce said voice going completely monotone now, “Does Danny skip school often?”

Jack was the one that offered this time, “Oh no, Danny has a stellar attendance,” he chuckled, now closer to the phone. “Maddie, dear, pass Chemical TyD.” Dick could feel his blood pressure rise in anger. Jack turned back to the conversation, “I suppose there was freshman year, he started skipping pretty often. But y’know how kids are.” Dick did know how kids were. And he knew uncharacteristic school skipping was highly concerning behavior.

“So you don’t know where your son is?” Bruce asked again to clarify, and possibly point out how un-parental their behavior was.

“Maybe Vlad’s house. They always did get on splendidly.” Jack said humorously. Danny had made his animosity for the man pretty clear, chances were slim.

“Other than that, we have no idea.” Maddie hummed easily, already preoccupied with something else. Bruce didn’t bother with a farewell before ending the call.

“Dick, go check his house.” Bruce ordered, “ Security footage doesn't show him leaving in the last 12 hours.”

“Check his friends' houses as well, he seems to be more comfortable there. Danny's made it clear Vlad isn’t to be trusted.” Dick supplied, running a fresh red light and turning onto Danny’s street.

“The Fentons seemed like they couldn’t be more unconcerned. Is it a reaction to the swap?” Bruce asked, annoyance and anger obvious in the tightness of his words.

“Not sure, but my guess would be no. Danny doesn’t seem to trust them, to put it lightly.”

“I’ll let my lawyer know. We should get him back to Gotham.” Bruce decided, before considering, “Would he like Gotham?”

“We can ask him when we find him.” Dick said firmly. Danny would be alright. There was a beat of silence as Dick pulled into Danny’s driveway.

“I found his phone’s location, it shows that it’s at his house.” Bruce said again, with urgency.

“I’m heading to the door. I’ve got comms.” Dick didn’t bother turning the car off as he rang the doorbell. If Danny was home, Dick would give him the control of answering the door. An uncharacteristic gust of cold wind blew past Dick as he stood at the doorstep. Minutes passed, the door was still locked and Dick couldn’t hear any movement in the house. He knocked this time, and only waited a few seconds before easily picking the lock to get inside. “Danny?” he called.

No answer. Dick pulled out his phone and called the missing boy. He could hear a phone vibrating in the living room. Making his way over with urgency, Dick found the device abandoned on a coffee table. To double check, he turned the screen on, the notifications and texts he received lining up his lock screen. Dick’s head snapped towards the lamp next to the sofa, it shook as if it had been bumped into. Not having the mental space to worry about strange furniture, Dick clicked on his comms, “His phone is here, but he’s not answering. I’ll check upstairs before I leave.”

“His friends' homes don’t show Danny’s arrival or departure in the last 12 hours. They would have had a more coherent story if Danny had informed them of this beforehand.”

“House looks empty.” Dick hurried down the stairs not bothering with subtlety. He took the time to lock the door before heading back to the car. “Any updates?”

“Manson and Foley’s phone locations are headed in the direction of Masters's home. Gray is en route to city hall. Wes Weston is still on school grounds, it seems there’s basketball practice. Adam Weston was last seen checking into the airport headed for Gotham.” Bruce rattled off while Dick set the GPS to the location of the mayor’s house. “Looks like they seem to have their suspicions.” Bruce theorized uncharacteristically optimistic.

Running out of ideas, Dick headed into the wealthier side of town. Bruce clicked his tongue in agitation. “I see his friends. Interaction imminent. I’ll tell them we had dinner plans since we were in town.”

“I’ll schedule one with Masters and Manson as a cover up while you investigate.” Bruce affirmed, the line clicking meaning he was talking to someone else.

Dick prepared himself to act in a calm and relaxed manner before he stepped out of the car. He wouldn’t be painting a good picture of himself if he showed them he was suspicious about his plans. With a mask of leisure, Dick walked out of his car, taking the time to shut the door behind him. He pretended he hadn’t noticed the two teens rushing towards the large gates of the mansion in front of him, and made a show of surprise when they turned the corner.

“Oh hey! What are you guys doing here?” Dick asked with a pleasant smile.

Sam and Tucker seemed startled to have run into him, stumbling over their words before Sam declared, “My Grandmother lives down the street, we were going to go visit her.” Sam's Grandmother lived with her parents, Bruce had checked up on that earlier, their property was about half a mile away from here. Sam eyed him with suspicion, “What are you doing here?”

“Vlad invited Bruce and I for dinner later. Since Danny was busy, I thought I’d spend some time scouting the area.” He smiled easily at them, making a show of looking around, “The houses here seem nice.”

“Vlad invited you to-” Sam started, her tone already prodding before Tucker interrupted her.

“Phantom!” He said pointing upwards behind Dick.

There was another clicking sound in Dick’s comms, Bruce was back. “Reservations secured.” Dick cleaned his thought as a secret affirmation, eyes spinning to catch the mysterious ghost boy.

“D- Phantom! What are you doing here?” Sam asked, anger rising in her tone. Confused, Dick looked between the two curiously. He was under the impression Sam had been a fan of Phantom, one of the first to defend him in the comments of people who didn’t approve of his actions. Yet, now, she seemed ready to pounce on him.

“Oh, hello. Citizens.” Phantom waved, noticing the three of them, the fake gruffness of his voice only added to his teenager-like appearance. Dick felt like the toxic green eyes would burn holes through his skull.

“Sam,” Tucker said pointedly after a long second of eye contact with the local vigilante, “I think we should hurry to your Grandmother’s before she gets too snappy.” Dick wasn’t sure what exactly they were trying to escape from in this situation, but he was glad he no longer had to keep on the cheery act.

“Right.” She nodded belatedly, giving Phantom a hard look before turning back down the street. “Later, Dick.” She waved as they walked off. He heard Tucker snicker before they had both retreated out of his hearing range.

“Uh, well, see you lat-” Phantom said, about to make his departure as well.

“Wait.” Dick called urgently, “I need your help.” Dick let his true emotions show on his face now, the facade of ease and cheer melting like the ice caps.

Phantom turned to him, curious. He(it?) approached Dick, the wispy tail he had molding into legs as he found his footing on the pavement. He was as tall as Danny and looked around the same age, too. The whole look meshed really well with the characterization of the ghosts. The concept left a sour taste in his mouth, the memory of Thomas passing him briefly. Phantom eyed him carefully, pools of lazarus green in place of irises. His floating white hair drifted as Phantom studied Dick. “What’s wrong?” He asked sincerely.

Dick would try his best to handle this without needing to air his vigilante secret, but he kept in mind it was still a card he could play. “Do you know Danny? Daniel Fenton.” Dick prompted, honest concern drowning his voice.

Phantom co*cked his head to the side slightly in intrigue, his hair following the movement like gravity wasn’t real. “Yeah. We’re friends.” He nodded after a moment, taking in every movement Dick made like he was trying to gauge how much of a threat he was. They must be close if Phantom was this protective of Dick just bringing Danny up. That was good. “Why?”

“He’s missing.” Dick confessed, “Last I heard from him was this morning, presumably before school. We were supposed to pick him up, but it turns out he never made it to school, neither his parents nor any of his friends know where he is. And he left his phone at home.” Dick absentmindedly fiddled with his fingers. He didn’t like playing the helpless civilian, but there wasn’t much else he could do right now.

Phantom took in the information, nodding along to Dick’s explanation. “You think he’s missing?”

“It was the only logical conclusion.” Dick paused, “Unless he ran away.” Bruce breathed in, still active on the comms.

“Danny doesn’t run away.” Phantom defended quickly.

Dick brows twisted, “Do you think he was kidnapped?”

Phantom blinked at the response, “Why are you trying so hard to find him?” He asked instead of answering.

Dick blinked at the strange question, lips twitching in confusion. “Because I’m worried about him, he might be in danger.”

“And if he was in danger?” Phantom stepped closer. Not menacingly or threateningly, the defensiveness in his shoulders eased just a smidge. Dick was doing something right, even if he didn't know what it was. He wasn’t going to stop now.

“I’d do whatever I could to help him.” Dick answered, holding his chin up as he answered, letting Nightwing’s confidence flow into him.

“Would you help him?” Phantom echoed thoughtfully. Another step closer. Dick could feel the dangerous aura wafting off the Ghost, but he held his ground. “What if you’re the danger?”

Dick flinched at the question. If Danny agreed to come live with them, he would be the only civilian in the Manor. With what Dick had seen of his fighting skills at The Mall, Danny would be fine on self defense against the regular thugs of Gotham. He had made it pretty clear he had no interest in being a vigilante, which would lower his chance of constantly being in danger. But as a Wayne, and an al-Ghul, along with the impending association with the Bats and maybe other heroes, Danny couldn’t stay out of the eyes of nefarious rouges for long. What could Dick do then? What could any of them do then? They were the ones putting him in danger, but he was far too selfish to let Danny go. He was a danger to Danny. There was only one choice, “I’d protect him from myself then. It doesn’t matter who or what. They’d have to get through every Wayne to get to him now.” Dick answered with more honesty than he’d shown anyone today.

Phantom seemed surprised at the answer, physically stepping back. He studied Dick again for deceit, before he finally conceded and answered. “I saw him at the park earlier.” He said quietly, “He likes to hang out there to clear his head.”

Dick sighed as relief quenched him, “Is he still there?”

“Yeah, the one on Anderson St. You’ll know it when you see it. He’ll be by the pond.” Phantom said, pointing in the direction Dick needed to head.

“GPS says 7 minute drive.” Bruce informed in the comms, his tone much more relaxed now.

“Thank you.” Dick said graciously making his way back to his car.

“Hey,” Phantom called, his legs melting into a wisp as he became airborne again, “Don’t tell him we met yet or anything.” Phantom said with a nervous smile on his face as he rubbed the back of his head, “He doesn’t like people digging into his business.”

Dick smiled back with a playful wink. “Sure thing. Our little secret.” Dick got to Anderson Park in 4 and a half minutes. Spotting Danny sitting easily on a thick tree branch, “Found him. He’s okay.” Dick said into the comms, before shutting it off.

Chapter 11: the father, the son, and dick

Chapter Text

Bruce looked at Danny through the rearview mirror as he drove through the empty highway. “We’re not mad at you, Danny.” He said stabbing through the thick atmosphere. The teens eyes snapped up from his lap to look at the man.

“Yeah, we know you didn’t mean to leave your phone at home. I’ve forgotten my wallet so many times before work.” Dick turned to smile at Danny meaningfully.

“Okay.” He said quietly, obviously not believing either of them. He turned to look out the window at the outstretched of nothingness that passed by them.

Dick turned to give Bruce a defeated expression. This was the most quiet Danny had been since dinner with his parents. Bruce looked at him again. Danny looked lost in thought, finger dribbling on the seat rhythmically. Bruce couldn’t help but be reminded of the nights he would sneak into his father’s study as a child and watch the man wandering through his own mind. Alfred never had the heart to wipe away the finger stains that marred the mahogany desk, despite keeping the study pristine since his father’s death. Not sure what else to do, Bruce turns back to the road with a quiet sigh.

“So, you like astronomy Danny?” Dick tried again putting on a cheery attitude.

“Yeah.” He said barely above a mumble, not bothering to look away from the green abyss of trees and grass.

“Any particular exhibit you're excited about?” Dick pushed, turning painfully in his seat.

“The working model of the first manned spaceship to land on the moon, and the duplicate of the Pathfinder.” Danny answered easily, a smile creeping slowly on his face, as he finally turned to Dick. Bruce didn’t miss the small relief in Dick’s eyes, and how his smile grew with authenticity.

“A working model?” Dick gasped, eyes growing wide. “Are you allowed inside?”

Danny, fully forgetting any reservations he had about them earlier, moved closer to where Dick sat in the passenger seat, leaning into the conversation, “No,” He smirked, “But I happen to know a guy.”

Dick laughed, “Spoken like a true Wayne.” Danny scoffed in response, the full blown smile unbudging from his face. Bruce sat a little more comfortable in his seat for the rest of the drive, content at just witnessing the conversation.

Once Bruce parked the car Dick unfastened his seat belt, attentively listening to Danny talk about the intricacies of the spaceship as they both stretched in the open space of the parking lot. Before stepping out, Bruce dipped his hand into the console for the box he had stashed there earlier. Dick and Danny stood at the hood of the car waiting for him.

Based on the half-empty parking lot, there probably wasn’t too large of a crowd inside. “Danny,” Bruce called quietly.

“Hm?” Danny turned to him, as they walked closer to the entrance.

Bruce hesitated, fiddling with the box in the hand Danny couldn’t see. Dick raised a curious brow at him. “I..” Bruce took a steadying breath. “I got this for you.” He handed Danny the neatly wrapped box.

Dick gave him a look of unconcealed exasperation, and Danny looked up at him in shock as he numbly took the box, seemingly confused. “What is it?” He asked carefully, looking at the wrapping of the box.

“Why don’t you open it?” Bruce tried an encouraging smile.

Danny braced himself as he carefully removed the decorative paper to reveal a glass watch case. Danny’s jaw slackened at the sight, an expression matching Dick’s. Bruce gulped, hoping he hadn’t made the wrong choice. “It’s a watch.” Danny stated, studying the crystal top that displayed the watch carefully stored inside the otherwise frosted sides.

I’m not really sure what your taste in accessories is,” Bruce prefaced, hoping his face didn’t look half as constipated as his head felt. “This was my father’s favorite watch, and I wanted you to have it.” Bruce tried for a smile. Danny’s face had gone from surprised and shocked to blank all the while Bruce spoke. Not sure how the teen had taken to the item, he continued nervously, “That being said, if it’s not up to your standards, don’t feel pressured to accept it.” Maybe now had not been the time to do this.

The long seconds of silence before Danny responded picked at Bruce. “No.” he started finally. Danny’s voice is quiet but sure. “I was just not expecting that.” He confessed, finally looking up from the box to Bruce. “Why are you giving this to me?” He asked hesitantly.

“Because you’re my son.” Bruce answered easily before words were lost on him again. Danny looked at him with pure bewilderment at his short explanation. Bruce turned to Dick for a sign of how this interaction was going, but he was no better help than a civilian during a plane crash. “Your,” Bruce cleared his throat, finding his nerve. “Before you were born your mother and I had decided on the name Thomas, after my father. And I had planned to give you his watch on your 15th birthday, as his namesake. I know you don’t have his name, but I still wanted you to have a part of the family with you.” Bruce paused to take a breath, “I know I’m a bit late, but Happy 15th Birthday, Danny.”

Danny absorbed what Bruce had said, looking back down at the vintage Patek Philippe watch. It had been personally designed for Bruce’s father as a 300th year anniversary of the founding of Wayne Enterprise, (then Wayne Corporation) by acclaimed designer Yusof Hadi. Danny looked at the hand stitched leather band and diamond rimmed watch. The watch was older than Bruce, and had never been appraised, so even he was not sure of its market value. Not that it would ever be seen in one, when not on the wrist of a Wayne.

“Thank you.” Danny smiled, a heartfelt emotion in his voice.

Bruce returned the emotion, “Always.”

The trio made their way to the entrance of the Planetarium when Dick leaned into Bruce’s ear. “Damian is not going to be too happy about that.” He gestured lightly to the car where Danny insisted the watch be kept for now.

“I doubt Damian even knows about the watch.” Bruce countered easily. It was not a topic of conversation they broached often.

“If you say so.” Dick said disbelievingly, “Damian may be Talia’s son, but he’s yours too.”

“And so is Danny.” Bruce said stubbornly.

“When this blows up in your face, I reserve the right to say I told you so.” Dick said before walking faster to catch up with Danny.

Bruce considered his words. Damian had never had much interest in watches and accessories of the like. Besides, Damian was still far too young to understand the value of such things. Bruce had made the right choice giving the watch to Danny.

---

Dick stored away the interaction between Bruce and Danny to be better dissected later. Dick wasn’t entirely sure what part of Bruce’s little speech had struck a chord in Danny, but even Dick’s question about the exhibits didn’t seem to get him more than a few word responses. Danny seemed lost in thought, an expression Dick had seen on Bruce numerous times when he almost cracked a case but was still missing a crucial detail.

As they walked up to the counter to buy their tickets, a young woman smiled excitedly at them. They were a long way from Gotham, but a Grayson was a Grayson no matter where he was. Dick added a little bit of a bounce in his step, raking his hair back. He infused charisma in his every action, as he stepped up to the counter.

The woman was in her early 20s, if Dick had to guess, 23 at the latest. She had dark hair that except for the front bangs were secured in a neat ponytail. The woman was tall, almost at Dick’s shoulder, he noticed as she walked around the counter excitedly. “Hi th-” Dick started, his signature smile ready to go on his face, before he was cut off.

“Danny!” The woman exclaimed, rushing over to hug the teen. Not to greet Dick. Because that would be a strange thing to assume. And Dick had not thought that the pretty woman was going to ask for his number or anything. Dick subtly cleared his throat and regained himself. Bruce gave him a knowing look that he ignored. “I missed you. You haven’t been around as much recently.”

“Hi, Olivia.” Danny smiled back, his version of Brucie Wayne activating. “Yeah I’ve just been kinda bogged with school. How’ve you been?” He asked cheekily.

“Fine, nothing new.” She sighed solemnly, before turning to smile pleasantly at Bruce and Dick, “Who’s this?” She asked Danny.

“Um.” He hesitated for a moment, “This is Dick, and this is…” Danny looked at him again before answering, “Bruce.”

“Nice to meet you.” Olivia extended her hand to Bruce, who shook it. She did not do the same with Dick.

“You as well. How do you know Danny?” Bruce inquired, as Olivia walked back behind the counter to check them in.

“I used to be his babysitter back when I was in highschool.” She said cheerfully, “He would go on and on about how he would be an astronaut when he grew up.” She added, giving Danny a pointed look of victory.

“Hey, that was a long time ago.” He protested, embarrassed.

“2 years is not a long time, Danny.” She laughed, entertaining him as she typed into the computer.

“A lot can happen in 2 years.” Danny’s cheerful attitude, even as a facade, couldn’t hold up to that comment apparently.

Olivia seemed to catch what she said too late, her face instantly morphing into a somber one, “Danny, I’m so sorry.” Danny just shrugged, but said nothing else. Olivia turned to Bruce this time, “Um, Bruce right?” She asked hesitantly. Bruce nodded at her, not wanting Danny to be under more attention than he was comfortable with.

“So, how do you guys know Danny?” She prompted, typing into the computer again.

“Oh, well…” Bruce hesitated, Dick turned to Danny for a sign of how they should answer.

Danny looked between them, then Olivia seemed to have already sensed the tension. “Y’know the baby swap case. In Gotham.” Danny started. Olivia nodded, waiting for him to elaborate. “He’s my father.” Olivia gasped so loud her colleagues turned to look.

“Holy sh*t, Danny. No way.” She looked between Danny and Bruce, analytically. Dick didn’t miss the way Bruce had stood up slightly straighter when Danny had said their relationship. “Wait, I heard your parents are moving next week, does that mean…” She trailed off looking between Dick and Bruce like they were going to answer her.

Neither Dick nor Bruce had properly brought up Danny moving in with them and Dick held his breath at the insinuation. But Danny didn’t seem to have the same reservations, “Gotham? Yeah, probably.” he said easily.

“You’re moving to Gotham?” She repeated, surprised.

Danny turned to Bruce hesitantly, “Um…”

Bruce was quick to step closer and put a reassuring hand on Danny’s shoulder, “We’re happy to have him.” he said confidently.

“You so need to tell me these things, Danny.” Olivia chided, “Be careful, I don’t wanna see you turn into a Batman villain.”

Danny looked affronted, “What makes you think I’m going to-”

“People as smart as you in Gotham have a streak of turning to villainy eventually.” Olivia insisted, humorously.

“We’ll take good care of him, don’t worry.” Dick laughed easily, nudging Danny playfully.

“Besides, Adam lives in Gotham, so it can’t be that bad.” Danny snarked back easily.

A blush crept across Olivia’s face. She turned to Bruce. “Can I have your last name please? For the forms.” she asked, slipping back into her work to avoid the direction the conversation was taking.

“Ah. Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat. Dick coughed to hide his growing smile. “W-A-Y-N-E,”

Oliva typed the letters as Bruce spelled out his name. Dick waited for realization to click. “Wayne?” She read outloud, laughing lightly to herself, “Just like Bru…” Her smile fell, “You said you're from Gotham?” She asked hesitantly. Bruce only nodded. “Oh.” She squeaked.

Dick thought the exhibits were quite fun, especially listening to Danny excitedly explain all the displays and diagrams. Danny snuck him and Dick into the life-size model rocket like he had promised, while Bruce was the look out so they wouldn’t get in trouble.

It was pretty late into the night when they were finally ready to leave. Bruce and Dick walked on either side of Danny as they walked through the dark and only slightly creepy parking lot to where Bruce had parked the car.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Fenton .” A voice behind them snarked with venom in his tone. Dick jumped at the sudden voice, not at all having noticed anyone behind them, instinctively slipping into a fighting stance. Bruce, next to him, seemed just as alarmed as Dick. Danny, ironically, seemed like he had been expecting the boy, carelessly turning around to face his potential assaulter.

“Hey, Dude.” Danny raised an amused brow at him. Surprising, the boy’s venomous demeanor seemed to slip away instantly.

“Where have you been?” He drawled weepily, his firetruck red hair waving dramatically in the night wind. “You haven’t been around in forever.” He complained. Dick, assessing the boy enough to reason he wasn’t a threat, relaxed into a more casual stance.

“I literally saw you last week.” Danny sighed.

“Last week was forever ago.” The boy insisted stubbornly, the spiky haired teen finally seemed to notice Dick and Bruce as he eyed them curiously. “Who’s that?” His tone was more regulated now, wary.

“This is Bruce. Dick.” Danny pointed to each of them as he introduced them to his friend. The boy eyed them both. It was a look Dick had seen many times when they tried to figure out if the people in front of them were the same ones from the cover of their magazines.

Realization dawned on him soon enough, “Holy crap, Danny! That’s-” Danny quickly intercepted his rather loud announcement with a firm hand over the other boy’s mouth.

“Keep it on the down low man.” Danny hissed quietly into the amber eyed boy’s ear. Bruce and Dick chuckled at the exchange. Danny said something else in a lower tone, but neither of them could catch what it was. After the brief exchange, they turned back to Bruce and Dick.

“Nice to meet you, I'm Dick.” Dick smiled, holding out his hand to shake. Danny’s friend took it, starry eyed.

“I’m Bruce, as Danny told you.” Bruce followed his lead.

“Cool.” The boy whistled, looking between the two.

Danny turned to him after a long beat of silence. “This is the part where you introduce yourself.”

“Ah- Oh. Right, I’m,” a momentary pause, “Michael Schumacher.”

“Like the F1 driver?” Dick asked, confused.

“Yup.” Clearly not-Michael Schumacher said proudly, puffing his chest.

“Dude, seriously?” Danny facepalmed, “You're not even German.”

“You don’t know that.” The teen huffed back.

“His name is Lucas.” Danny supplied, with an exhausted sigh.

“You can call me Luke.” The teen said happily, forgetting his earlier disappointment of not being the legendary racer. “Anyways, I gotta go. Catch you later.”

Dick made the mistake of blinking. Luke seemed to disappear into thin air. “Where’d he go?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” Danny waved easily, already walking to the car. Bruce looked around alarmed before hesitantly joining them.

Meeting Luke had definitely been a strange encounter. Though many things about Danny seemed quite strange. But none as weird as the dinner they had found themselves at in Vlad Masters’s estate.

Chapter 12: dinner drama

Chapter Text

When Bruce had told Dick he scheduled visits with the Mansons and Masters, Dick had assumed they would be on different days. He had been very wrong. Both on the same day. Back to back. This would be So Much Fun.

The Masons had invited Bruce and Dick to their estate for Brunch and to “catch up”. Dick had been mostly indifferent to the meeting, but still held onto his pleasantries with the couple's constant flattery. The only unexpected part of the visit had been when Danny had walked into the room to both Bruce and Dick’s surprise. Danny had cited that he owed Sam a favor and said he couldn’t stay long, and left Dick to wither under the glowing attention of the Manson hosts.

Fortunately, Bruce had not extended the stay longer than it needed to be to seem polite. Danny had caught them on their way out where he learned of their plans with Masters. He asked to tag along, and Dick, always welcoming his company, accepted instantly.

“Is it alright if we stop by my house first, though?” Danny asked as Dick and Bruce got in the car.

“Of course.” Bruce smiled easily, the first real one of the day.

“Thanks.” Danny slipped into the back seat. Amity was much smaller than Gotham or Bludhaven or any of the cities Dick had grown used to, and the trips were pretty short regardless that it was on the other side of the city.

Promising he wouldn’t take long, Danny disappeared through his front door. Rushing back a few minutes later, his sweats had been traded out for easy slacks and a semi-formal shirt and he had a small bag in his hands.

“Ready?” Bruce asked, turning to look at the younger boy as he closed the car door behind him.

Danny rummaged through the bag and brought out two devices. They were small enough to fit in the palm of Danny’s hand, and had a thin and subtle design. They almost looked like tech-ed out, green and silver cards. “Um,” Danny started hesitantly, "You know Amity’s ghost problem right?” He looked nervously between the two.

Dick had seen a few of the aforementioned “ghosts” before the time at The Mall, though he had only taken to using that term based on what the locals referred to them as. Dick wasn’t exactly a believer in the dead coming back to haunt you trope, even if his brother could be cited as proof. Dick cast a subtle look at Bruce. His face was perfectly neutral as he listened to Danny, and nodded along. Bruce had his suspicions about “ghosts” even if the local Phantom claimed to be one. Just because Batman was referred to as a Bat didn’t make him a flying, furry, cave creature. (Even if the only untrue part of that was the flying.)

Danny seemed to believe it though. “This is a deflection device my parents designed a while back. I tweaked it a little but it’s mostly the same concept. It’ll stop most ghosts from being able to attack you. Almost everyone in Amity has one.” That was one hell of a marketing ploy from the Fentons, even their son seemed to be sucked into it. Danny pressed his lips into a thin line nervous by the contemplative silence of the two men, still holding out the device in his hands.

Dick was fully aware that they didn’t have Danny’s full trust. If this little device, as much of a gimmick it may be, helped them gain more of it then, “Thanks, Danny.” Dick smiled easily, taking one and slipping it into his phone case.

Bruce took Dick’s signal with grace, “We appreciate it.” He smiled, storing the little device on the inside pocket of his blazer.

Satisfied, Danny’s face relaxed as he leaned back into his seat and buckled his seat belt. They drove to the estate with an easy flow of conversation. “Do you know when you want to leave for Gotham, Danny?” Dick asked, remembering the comment from the planetarium.

Danny fiddled nervously at the question so Bruce added, “Whenever you're comfortable.” He turned the corner smoothly, “I’ll have Alfred send the jet over.”

That got Danny to stop fiddling, he looked up at Bruce jaw-smacked, “Jet?” Danny echoed quietly. Dick could smell where the conversation was heading, and held on to his laughter.

“I can ask for the plane, instead. If you prefer. The jet is faster, so I figured it would be the most convenient.” Bruce tried to amend. Danny blinked at him, eyebrows flying in shock. Bruce cleared his throat nervously when Danny said nothing. “Tim takes the helicopter out sometimes. Is that what teenagers like?” Bruce asked Dick this time, trying for some semblance of support. Dick’s shoulder shook silently and he refused to meet the man's eyes.

After a beat of silence, “What? You don’t own a spaceship?” Danny mumbled, slouching back in his seat.

“Well, we don’t have one currently. I’m not sure how long it would take to get one. I hear they’re only made to order.” Bruce reached for his phone in the console space, “I’ll call Alfred to see what we can do.” He said as he pulled into the driveway of their destination.

Danny looked at him like he had grown a second head and transformed into an ogre. Dick decided to do the fumbling rich man a favor and step in before things escalated,“Bruce. He’s joking.”

Bruce turned to Danny, disbelievingly. The teen just nodded at him, mute and blank faced. “Oh.” Said the wealthiest man on this side of the hemisphere, embarrassed. “Of course.”

“Of course.” Danny repeated, judgment heavy in his tone.

Once Dick had gathered his bearings, the three made their way to the front entrance, where a feminine(?) robot stood. Once it noticed the three, it turned to them mechanically initiating a greeting. “Good afternoon. My name is M.A.D.Y.” Strange, that was the same name as Danny’s mom. “Who might you be?”

Bruce eyed the machine, intrigued. “Bruce Wayne.” Its red hair moved slightly, as it turned its head to face Bruce.

“Welcome Mr. Wayne. Vlad has been impatiently awaiting your arrival. Please follow me into the foyer.” The robot’s voice was monotone and inflectional, as its body turned to have its back facing the guests.

Remembering the reputation of their host, Dick leaned into Danny not sure if M.A.D.Y. could hear them. “Is it just me or is that thing kinda creepy?”

Danny chuckled sardonically, “You have no idea.” Their footsteps echoed on the marble floors as they walked through the museum of Packers memorabilia leading into the foyer.

Dick didn’t have much time to absorb the decor choices before Masters walked through another entrance way. “Bruce,” He greeted familiarly as he walked up to them. “It’s been so long, how have you been?”

“I’m well,” Bruce gave a practiced smile as they shook hands. “How about yourself?”

“Fantastic.” Masters smiled, a hungry look in his eyes as he looked at Bruce.

“This is my son, Richard Grayson.” Bruce introduced, gesturing to Dick.

"Dick." Dick corrected, sticking out his hand to shake.

Vlad blinked at him, affronted, "Excuse me?"

"My name." Dick explained, hiding the growing smirk on his face, "I prefer Dick."

"I see." Masters grimaced, before melting into intrigue, “You must be the one who’s been leading Wayne Tech Industries. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Dick forced a light chuckle, his stomach twisting at the tone Masters was speaking in. “No, that would be my younger brother. I’m not in the family business.” Not the one Masters was talking about anyway.

Dick could see in real time Masters losing interest in him. He didn’t even bother to address Dick after his disassociation with Wayne Enterprise, and turned back to Bruce. “You must be famished, leading a company like yours.” Vlad smothered, “I’ll show you to the dining room.” Masters didn’t wait for a response as he turned around, expecting them to follow his lead.

Bruce braced himself behind Masters back, already knowing how the rest of the evening would go. It was pretty obvious Dick’s presence was not welcome here, so Bruce would have to do most of the heavy lifting for information gathering.

Vlad had led them out of the foyer and into another hallway full of Packers jerseys, each signed and on full display. Danny scoffed loudly from behind them, Dick couldn’t help but be reminded of Damian at that moment. “Don’t tell me you’re lost in your own overgrown house.”

Masters's head swiveled on his body, almost inhumanely as he turned to Danny’s voice. “Daniel?” He looked at the teen confused.

“‘Sup.” Danny crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

“What are-” He started enraged, starting to walk towards Danny menacingly when his eye caught Bruce's. Masters cleared his throat, and straightened his suit, “What are you doing here?” He asked in a much more pleasant tone. Dick clenched his jaw at the way Danny squared his shoulders and planted his feet defensively as soon as he caught the man's attention. Masters didn’t let Danny respond, immediately turning to Bruce. “Daniel, my ward, must have welcomed himself inside. I had no idea he would be here.” Masters chuckled easily as if they hadn’t witnessed his display earlier. “He’s quite the free spirit." His tone grew thicker as he turned to Danny, "Daniel, come introduce yourself to our guests properly.”

Bruce interjected quickly, “Actually, Danny and I have become quite familiar with each other the past few days.” Bruce kept his tone light, feeding into his air headed persona. “Perhaps I should be the one to introduce him to you.” Bruce said pointedly, fury basked his tone, “This is my son, Danny.” He placed a hand on Danny's shoulder.

“Excuse me?” Masters asked, stepping back in shock, peering disbelievingly at the man. Danny stuck his tongue out at him in defiance. “Daniel is… your-” He seemed to still be computing the words, “Your son?” Dick studied the look of enragement at the claim.

Bruce nodded.

Masters looked at him disbelieving, “Biologically?”

“Yes.”

“Daniel is your son?”

“As I said, yes.”

Masters turned his head slowly from Bruce to Danny, who stood there uninterested as they had their conversation. “So Maddie-” he started before Danny cut him off, disgusted.

“No.” Danny sighed before speaking again, “The whole case in Gotham.” Was all Danny said, but the gears twisted in Masters's eyes.

He turned to Bruce again, “I see.” He said thoughtfully. “Well isn’t that something.” He said to himself as he turned around. The walk to the dining room was silent, and the unprompted house tour Danny had called him out for earlier was not broached again.

M.A.D.Y. guided them to their seats, food lining the length of the table. “Mr. Masters,” Bruce started as they were seated.

“Call me Vlad.” Dick wondered if he imagined the sharp fangs in his smile as a chill ran through his spine.

“Ah, yes, Vlad, then. I hear you’ve launched a new project, funding research. May I ask what that’s about?” Bruce asked presently, taking a fork and knife to his steak.

“I’ve gotten a recent interest in the paranormal. Some may think it’s facetious but I think ghosts are a real cause of concern to us living folk.” Masters dragged his knife through the tender meat of his meal.

“It seems many people in Amity seem to take ghosts seriously.” Dick commented, curious how such a large group of people could be so entranced in a business scene so far fetched.

“Well as most of our locals have been victimized by them personally, it is only natural. As mayor, I truly believe it is my responsibility to the people to ensure their safety.” Masters looked up, his eyes locking with Danny’s, who sat across from Dick. Masters’s demeanor was drowning in contempt and challenge, while Danny returned the exchange with defiance and firmness.

Dick couldn’t help but remember Jack Fenton’s words from a few days ago about how Danny and Masters got on famously. How disengaged did a person have to be with their environment to see this interaction as anything but venomous?

The atmosphere did not fare much better for the rest of the dinner. Not that Dick was complaining about the short stay. He had never breathed as freely as he did once he left the gates of Masters's estate. They dropped Danny off at his house, planning their departure to Gotham on the drive there, and returned to their hotel.

Comfortable in his bed was when Dick noticed the little device Danny had insisted they keep had cracked from the sides. It looked almost like the wear and tear of a well loved photo kept in a wallet. Only, it had not been 6 hours since Dick had received the device, and it was made of metal and wiring, not flimsy paper. He must have not been as careful with it as he had thought. Dick hoped Danny wouldn’t mind too much as his mind wandered off to sleep.

Chapter 13: chill out, danny

Chapter Text

Danny’s parent’s flight was on Friday night, and Danny was leaving early Friday morning. Naturally, the house was in exceeding levels of chaos. Packing had felt so surreal to Danny. He’d lived in Amity for as long he could remember, and he had fit it all into a suitcase and a book bag ready to be shipped off to some house that Dick couldn’t even give him a room count of.

His friends had all come by at their own times throughout the week to “help him pack”. They did the opposite of help, but Danny still cherished their company. They were probably the hardest to leave behind, especially after everything they’d been through together. With innumerable promises to call and text and video chat and photos and doom sessions and visits over breaks and always keep them updated, Danny was buckled into the back of Bruce’s car as they drove off to the airport.

Danny had gone to his parents to wish them a safe trip before they left, but they had “Of course, sweetie.”(unattentive) and “Be a dear and pass me that device, honey.”-ed their way out of the conversation. Dick had been the one to help him get everything into the truck of the car.

Their drive to the airport wasn’t noteworthy. Danny had been to the Chicago airport a few times with Vlad, so he figured he’d know his way around. Fortunately for Danny, the airport was outside of the city and most of the highways took you around the city to avoid the traffic. The unpleasant memories that were threatening to erupt had nothing to latch on to.

Danny watched Bruce take the exit to the airport, merging smoothly into traffic. Danny spotted the domestic departures before the car had approached it. Danny waited for Bruce to make the turn into that exit. Any second now. Danny gripped at his seatbelt. Bruce didn’t take the turn. He didn’t take the next one that allowed them to u-turn, either.

Danny’s mind raced at the possibilities, anxiety gripping at him. Was Bruce sending him to some new kind of detainment center? Wait- did that mean Bruce knew he was Phantom? Bruce had never met Phantom before. He had tried, sure, but Danny had shut it down almost immediately. But Dick had met Phantom that one time. Had he somehow strung everything together and told Bruce?

Dick was on his phone, Danny noticed. He could see the screen with a little bit of maneuvering, if he knew what they were planning he could counter accordingly.

Dick: We’re almost on the plane.

Dick: We’ve secured the package.

Dick: remember NO capes.

Dick: im looking at u duke

Danny’s hand latched to the strap of his carry-on backpack, ready to run the second either of them made a move. What did he mean by “package”? Was he referring to Danny? Probably. They were going to ship him off like a package? Bruce finally making a turn caught Danny’s attention. Every nerve in his body was taut, ready to spring into action as the car slowed to a smooth stop.

Bruce stepped out of the car with no urgency. Danny wanted to believe that Bruce wouldn’t do anything to hurt him on purpose. But he had thought that about his parents before too. What if it was all an act, and Danny had played the fool the whole time? Again. There were people in coordinated uniforms walking around the car in a practiced organization. Danny held his breath. Bruce was talking to one of the people whose uniform stood out among the others. The person in charge, likely. Bruce turned to Danny between the exchange and smiled at him.

Dick who was still in the passenger seat when he turned to Danny, gestured with his head towards something on the other side of the car. “That one's ours.” He said. Danny stepped out of the car, and examined his surroundings.

They were in a meadow of concrete, the large building Danny knew to be the Chicago Airport a long distance away. The sight of the whole building was blocked off by a sleek black and gold plane. It was slightly smaller than the other commercial planes a safe distance away, the gold embossed W on the tail was explanation enough why it stood alone.

Maybe Bruce and Dick weren’t trying to kidnap and experiment on him, Danny considered. And maybe Vlad wasn’t really as rich as he said he was. The jet, just from the outside, looked magnificent. Danny eyed the propulsion system with interest, it revved rhythmically waiting for its passengers to board. “If you stare at them like that I think the plane might just take off without us.” Dick joked, noticing where Danny’s interest had landed.

Embarrassed, Danny peeled his eyes away and followed behind Dick to the entrance of the jet. Only to find that the embellishments on the outside were only a teaser for what was inside. A leather sofa on the far side of the plane, and dimmed lights around the top and bottom rims of the carrier cart. There were, apart from the large couch, 3 tabled areas that could seat 4 people each, 2 on each side of the table, with still enough room to walk comfortably in the middle aisle.

Danny had barely taken in the sight when the air hostess greeted him, “Hello Mr. Fenton. I am Mia Matthews, and it’s a pleasure to meet you and an honor to be able to contribute to your first flight with us. Your father has already informed us of the circ*mstances of your arrival to Wayne Manor, and we will be preparing accordingly.” The circ*mstances of his arrival? “During the flight if there is anything you require, do not hesitate to ask any of the crew members and we will provide for you to the height of our abilities.” Ms. Matthews smiled at Danny with a primed perfection he didn’t know was capable of anyone.

“Thank you, Ms. Matthews.” Danny smiled back politely, hoping it wasn’t too stiff or awkward.

The hostess blinked in surprise before she spoke again, “Would you like a tour of our amenities before the flight?”

---

After he finally got settled in his seat, Danny thought of the text he had spied on between Dick and, he assumed, the others at the Manor. If Dick was Nightwing and Bruce was Batman, did that mean the others they usually were seen with were also different members of the Bat Brigade? Pulling out his phone Danny did a few cross searches in a secure tab. If his theory was correct, that meant that Tim Drake was probably Red Robin, and Damian Wayne was probably Robin the current, since the age and general build seem to align the best. That was four out of how many ever of them there were. Four that Danny was about to be living with.

Processing that, Danny wondered exactly how he was meant to act on that information. By the sound of Dick’s texts, Danny wasn’t supposed to know. They would all probably try to keep it a secret from him. Danny supposed he could play along until they decided to tell him. After all, he had access to public (and not-so-public) information about them, so they deserved to at least get a read on him before he loaded that piece of knowledge over their shoulders. Besides, it would probably be fun to mess with them. Based on what Dick had said about them, Danny hoped they could get along. He missed Jazz and Elle.

“Don’t we need to get our bags?” Danny asked as they walked off the plane with nothing but what they had brought on with them. And by ‘them’ Danny meant just him. Half the flight in, Danny realized neither Bruce nor Dick had brought anything more than what they could fit in their pockets. Though, having experienced the flight, Danny could understand why.

Bruce brushed him off easily, as a sleek black car with tinted windows slowed to a stop in front of them. “Alfred will take care of it.”

“Who’s Alfred?” Danny asked curiously, already having heard that name thrown around in conversation.

“That would be me.” The door to the driver's seat opened to reveal a gray haired man in a pristine suit. If the flight staff were perfectly put together, this man was the one who put them together to begin with. “You must be Young Master Daniel, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” The man- Alfred said, his words doused in a thick British accent.

“This is Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler.” Dick introduced the man in front of him.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Mr. Pennyworth.” Danny returned the greeting with a smile, feeling a little embarrassed about the title he had been assigned, “You can just call me Danny.”

“Alfred will do just fine, Young Master Danny.” He retorted cheekily, as he walked in pace towards where the luggage had been boarded earlier, before Danny could retaliate again.

“Pick your battles Danny, this isn’t one you can win.” Bruce chuckled lightly, stepping towards the car. Danny turned around to watch Alfred almost effortlessly load the bags into the car, and couldn’t help but be impressed.

Slipping into the seat next to Dick, Danny leaned in to whisper “Do you think Alfred is secretly Batman?” He asked, eyeing the ease he seemed to carry the last of the bags to the car.

Dick eyed the man curiously from next to Danny as he walked back to the driver's seat, “Maybe we should look more into that, Bruce.” He said in a serious voice, humor twirling in his eyes.

“I’ll write it on the to-do list.” Bruce said dryly, a small smile threatening at his lips.

Between the Fenton kids, one couldn’t keep a secret to save a life, and one died keeping one. Or well- Danny wasn’t technically a Fenton anymore, was he? Regardless, it was clear they had no idea he knew. Messing with them was going to be so much fun.

“I do hope you three are not conspiring back there.” Alfred huffed, as he buckled his seatbelt.

“We wouldn’t dream of it, Alfred.” Dick said sagely, giving Danny a dramatic wink. Danny laughed silently to himself, as he turned to memorize the drive to their destination.

The city’s sky scraping buildings faded into the clouds behind them as the stretches of primed grass and blacksmith gates increased. All of the uniquely designed yet equally extravagant entryways passed before the car took into its pick. Large black ribbon gates opened with a grandness Vlad only daydreamed of, a signature W woven into it. A gold plate on one of the pillars holding the gate read ‘Wayne’. Inside the gate's territory the car drove down a smooth road surrounded by primped flower bushes and lakes. The trees seemed perfectly positioned, even the colorful fruits and flowers it bore seemed expensive. Eventually they approached a mansion that fit the grandness of the gates as the car slowed.

The feeling of having walked into a movie scene was only settled in more when the car came to a smooth stop perfectly in front of a short series of stairs that lead to a building that was definitely some historic architect’s masterpiece.

Trying to act as normal as he could, Danny reached for the car door, before it seemed to open on its own. Alfred stood perfectly by the door, “After you, Young Master.” Maybe Danny should have worn a ball gown to finish the Disney princess feeling. Just one step at a time dude, not like this is the craziest moment of your life er- month. Craziest moment of the month. So far.

---

“Oh my god, he’s here.” Steph shrilled, dragging Cass into the living room where they were all hunched on the floor checking for hidden weapons like very normal people.

Everyone jumped to their feet at the announcement, everything being set into motion. “Duke, where's your helmet?” Tim asked, going through his last minute checklist. They had been preparing for this moment for the past few hours but it still felt like there hadn’t been enough time.

“In the cave. I checked. Like 8 times.” Duke said, pulling out his phone for a picture of his helmet next to the BatComputer, time stamped for a hour ago.

“We wouldn't want another incident.” Steph joked. Cass nudged her at Duke’s guilty expression.

The clock was ticking, they were embarking on their most difficult mission yet. “Okay, Steph, take the third corridor to the left. Cass you take the right. Duke second hallway and chandeliers. I’ll check the main hallway. Jason’s not showing up till dinner, cause he’s at work .” Tim emphasized their cover, “Check for weapons that aren’t house appropriate, and any left over equipment. T minus 4. Meet in the main hall. Go.” They all scattered. Damian was holed up in his room since Alfred had left for the airport. They had already double checked and triple checked for weapons and non-civilian equipment. Yet Tim still managed to find an unidentified cowl under the couch, two Baterangs near the shoe rack and a grapple gun on the coat hanger.

Steph was the last to join back up in their meeting spot, but just in time to hear Dick chatting away animatedly a few feet away from the stairs. He laughed at something, louder than normal. The door unlocks, and Alfred steps through.

“You all seem quite excited.” Alfred commented, a slight edge in his tone. Alfred hung his jacket on the rack, and migrated further down the hallway.

“Ta-da!” Dick widened the door in a sing-song voice, and displayed jazz hands for their newest arrival.

Okay Tim, make sure you assert yourself. Do not make this another Damian situation. This kid was a civilian so if he did jump him or something, Tim couldn’t fight back like he’d been trained to. But he wasn’t not going to need to fight back. Because he would make himself so hardcore, the new kid wouldn’t even think about it. Be hardcore, Tim.

Dick side stepped at the door, revealing the notably shorter boy behind him. The kid's deep blue-gray eyes took in his surroundings and categorized it. That wasn’t very civilian of him, Tim considered. He was Talia’s son, even if he wasn’t raised as one, some things just had to be genetic.

Okay, Tim, now or never.

The others seemed to have had the exact same idea, and there was an ill-timed chorus of “Hey.” in the entryway. The kid flinched back so hard, he bumped into Bruce behind him. Even Dick looked alarmed from the side of the door.

“Sorry.” They all said at the same time again. Dick and Bruce gave them a wary look. Maybe team work did not always make the dream work. The kid looked around the room part horrified, and part confused. At least Tim had intimidated him(?), like he’d planned.

Tim cleared his throat lightly as a signal for the others behind him. He stepped closer to the other kid slowly. “Sorry about them.” He jabbed light heartedly, Steph and Duke huffed in indignation, “I’m Tim Drake. Nice to meet you.”

“Danny um-” He hesitated, looking at the people in the room, and steeling himself. Was this kid really Damian’s biological brother? “Hi, I’m Danny.” He said more confidently, smiling easily at Tim.

Whatever restraints the others had put on themselves crumbled as they all rushed to greet him like a pack of golden retrievers. “This is not what I meant by warm welcome, guys.” Dick chided lightheartedly from the side.

---

Alfred had taken all of Danny’s things to the room “he’ll be staying at for the time being.” Tim had been asked to help him find his way, while Alfred headed to the kitchen. Steph, Cass and Duke had also been given tasks to complete, so Danny was left to follow the black haired blue eyed teen up the grand staircase and down the hallway.

“Here we are.” Tim announced as he opened one of the many identical doors in the hallway Danny couldn’t see the end of. The room was double the size of Danny’s entire first floor, with ceiling to floor windows staggered on the wall, with delicately carved furniture placed at calculated positions throughout the room. The large turkish carpet depressed under Tim’s feet as he walked around and showed Danny the fully stocked bathroom the size of a 3 bedroom apartment, the closet larger than his bedroom, the TV that faded into the the wall when not in use, and a hundred other things Danny didn’t even know existed.

After the tour, Tim turned to Danny in a way that Danny knew meant he was trying to get a read on him. Red Robin(probably), watched him carefully. “How old are you?” He asked Danny curiously,

“16.” Danny answered, “What about you?”

“16.” Tim nodded, “When’s your birthday.” He peered at Danny as if he could foresee his answer if he focused hard enough.

“February 12th.” Danny smirked, instantly knowing he’d won by the look in Tim's eyes, “When yours?”

“July 19.” He sighed, shoulder hunching in defeat.

“Hah.” Danny laughed victoriously, “I’m older than you.”

“5 months isn’t that bad.” Tim retorted, pathetically.

Danny nodded sarcastically, “Sure, kid .” Tim gaped in mock offense, turning away from Danny dramatically. “What do you think Alfred meant by ‘for now’?” Danny asked after a moment and looked around the room.

“Bruce didn’t tell you?” Tim asked surprised, “Alfred was talking about how we each get to design our own room, and you just stay in a guest until the reconstruction is done.” Tim explained easily as if that wasn’t the most rich-person thing Danny had heard all day. (It wasn’t.) When Danny didn’t say anything for a while, Tim added, “You don’t have to, of course, Damian never changed his room all that much. Dick and I were definitely the ones who altered our rooms the most.” Tim hesitated for a second, “You can come by and take a look after you unpack. If you want.”

Danny nodded, wondering what exactly “reconstructing” a room looked like. “Sure.”

Tim seemed nice. It was impossible not to notice the difference between the suburban kid and the “sorry this room is small, I promise that the actual one is way bigger” kid. But in spite of that, he and Danny seemed to almost click instantly. Tim asked a lot of questions all the time, not that Danny minded very much since he was asking just as many.

They talked about everything that came to their mind while Danny unpacked. They had made decent progress, and everything was going smoothly until Tim spotted Danny’s sketchbook. “Oh, what’s this?” He asked, picking it up.

Danny had made sure to not bring any Fenton tech that he could manage to survive without. A wrist ray, and two thermoses were stashed in his toiletries bag he had tossed under a bathroom sink earlier. But his sketchbook had been much harder to part with. His collection of prototype sketches, some more technologically realistic than others. Fortunately not all of them were ghost related, in fact, most weren’t.

Though at that moment, the ghosts weren’t his concern. Danny gulped silently. Tucker and Adam had been the only ones he’d ever shown his designs to, and they had always been super supportive. But Tucker and Adam weren’t world class prodigy rising in the tech field. And Danny actually realized that regardless if this guy was Red Robin or not, he was still Timothy Drake-Wayne.

“Oh, that’s um-” Danny hesitated, scratching the back of his neck.

Tim caught Danny’s nerves instantly, “It’s cool, I don’t wanna pry.” He put the book down, curious eyes not leaving it. He totally wanted to pry.

It’s not a big deal, Danny. Sure, Tim could come up with those designs in his sleep, probably. But, like, no pressure. “It’s just some random stuff I came up with. You probably wouldn’t care too much about it.” Danny tried for offhanded, busying his hands in the threaded count of the silk pillowcase.

If Tim hadn’t been interested before, he sure was now. “Really?” He asked, “Like what?”

C’mon Danny. He’s literally 5 months younger than you, that’s like half a year. So basically one year. Danny wasn't going to be intimidated by someone a whole year younger than him. “You can look at it if you want.” Danny shrugged. Totally cool, totally unbothered.

Tim took the sketchbook, not giving Danny a second to reconsider before eagerly flipping to the first page. He eyed the design critically, Danny hadn’t even felt so vulnerable when he duked it out with Dan. Tim flipped to the next page. Danny could hear his pulse in his neck. At least he was breathing.

Next page. Did Tim decide to go mute in the last minute- “You think Carbon fiber would be the best option for this?” Tim asked inquisitively, showing Danny the design he was looking at.

Danny cringed at the sight, “That’s from like two years ago,” He explained, flipping somewhere towards the last few pages, “I redesigned it a few months ago. Carbon would be fine,” Danny pointed at the device, and Tim nodded at his explanation, “But Lithium-Titanium would be the better option if you consider the conductivity.”

Tim considered the idea, “If we go with that, we could fully remove this portion of the design, and focus more on the-”

---

Bruce walked the hallway to the room Alfred had told him Danny was staying in for the time being. Bruce gathered himself, as he knocked on the door to the room. He waited. No response. He knocked again, louder.

“What?” Tim answered from the other side of the door, sounding preoccupied.

Concern and curiosity opened the door to find Danny and Tim pouring themselves over what looked like a sketchbook, murmuring back and forth to each other in conspiratorial voices. Bruce cleared his throat to get their attention.

Tim looked up at him “What?” He snapped again, irritated. Danny blinked at him.

“It’s time for dinner.” Bruce explained.

“It’s barely 2?” Danny commented, checking the clock on the wall. He blinked in shock to find that it was actually 7:30.

Not commenting further on that, Bruce continued, “The others were pretty excited to meet you.”

“Others?” Danny asked, “I thought I already met everyone?”

“Not really. There's Barbra and Jason. You met Duke, Steph, and Cass earlier.” Tim explained to Danny, “Damian will probably show up too.”

The two started walking towards the dining hall, Bruce left completely forgotten behind them. The man couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. One of his sons couldn’t stand Tim, and the other one already seemed inseparable.

---

Danny had been too preoccupied in his conversation with Tim to notice the slight shift in the air as they got closer to the dining hall. Barbra’s greeting and introduction had finally brought Danny back to the present enough to realize. The central part of the Manor was older than the hallway Danny was staying in. It wasn’t the decor or build quality that gave it away, since they both seamlessly blended into each other.

Wayne Manor was a generational home, Danny had read that it was one of the oldest homes still standing in North America. And what came with generational homes? Generational ghosts. Danny felt the cold chill of his ghost sense creeping through his spine, the uncontrollable huff of frost threatening his lungs. The ghosts weren’t strong enough to elicit a full response from Danny ghost sense. So probably no gruesome murders, but their history with the Manor gave them a strong anchor to stay.

Dinner just got a lot more intense.

“Nice to meet you.” Barbra smiled at Danny as they both made their way inside the large entrance to the dining hall, Tim only a step behind them. The room was crowded with people talking and joking around. Emotions were a magnet for ghosts. The chill crept around Danny’s lungs.

“Look alive.” Tim whispered to him.

Danny was totally alive. What was Tim talking about? Ghosts? What ghosts. Danny didn’t know anything about ghosts. When Danny finally looked over to Tim, ready to feign confusion, Tim gestured to the wall away from the table. There was a kid, 13 maybe, leaning snottily on the wall. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his forest green eyes locked on Danny. Danny made his way over, trying for approachable and open as he smiled at the boy, “You must be Damian. I’m-”

“I’m fully aware of who you are.” The teen stood up from the wall. Damian's posture was already perfect, but he stretched his neck up seemingly at the height difference between him and Danny. He huffed, and stomped away after a split second of uncertainty, purposely pushing Danny’s outstretched hand as he did so.

Danny watched Damian walk away, and noticed everyone in the room pretending not to be watching them. “Huh?” Tim remarked, “That went a lot better than I expected.” He nodded to himself impressed, as they walked to their seats just in time for Alfred to bring out the remaining dishes to the overflowing table.

What exactly had Tim expected to happen? Danny didn’t have too much time to ponder on that, as the chill began creeping again. He cleared his throat quietly. The ghosts fluttered around the room, jumbling nonsense of their time. Unnoticed by anyone else. Danny didn’t look at them either.

Different dishes lined the table perfectly sized to fit at least 10 people. 12 if you squeezed. At the head of the table was Bruce, who only watched everyone else. Dick sat on his left, Barbra next to him. Then Steph, Cass and Duke. On the other side, Damian sat to Bruce’s left, there was an empty seat for Jason according to Tim. “Work must have run longer than he expected.” Next to Jason’s spot was Tim then Danny.

Steph smiled at him energetically as he sat down. “So what do you think of the Manor so far, Danny?”

The chill gripped his intestines. Danny forced it down, hoping he could get through dinner. “It’s really big.”

Duke snorted at that, “You have no idea.” Steph and Tim’s head snapped at him, “Because you haven’t had the full tour yet.” He added quickly. “We should totally do that. After dinner. Right guys?” He looked to the others for support.

“Definitely.” Steph nodded. Cass watched him quietly from across the table. Maybe she was the one sending a chill down his spine and not the ghost sense.

“Wow, I’m so hungry.” Duke looked around at the food animatedly, “Do you like food, Danny?” He grimaced as soon as he heard his own words.

“Yeah,” Danny laughed, “Love food.” Alfred came around to fill each of their glasses.

Duke nodded. He opened his mouth to say something else. “Anyways-” Steph cut in, “You play video games?” Cass chuckled quietly as she took a bite of her food.

Dinner was going pretty well, everyone took turns asking Danny random questions in an effort to “get to know him better”. The ghost chill fluctuated from almost gone to threatening to explode throughout dinner. But Danny was pretty proud of how long he’d managed to keep it in check.

Distantly, Danny heard the sound of a motorcycle engine. The chill crept up his spine again. Don’t go ghost. Don’t go ghost. Danny reached for the glass of water next to him, hoping to use it to cover up the frosty breath. The motorcycle was getting closer. Just drink the water Danny. Danny could feel Cass’s eyes following his every motion. Stay casual, Danny. The engine was getting closer.

The motorcycle engine cut off. And all of Danny’s effort’s for the night crumbled. The chill broke through the barrier and into the open, the puff of icy breath in the comfortably warm room turned heads. All the conversations stopped. Danny could feel every eyeball looking at him. Danny wasn’t sure if it was his nerves or a malfunctioning ghost power, but the sound of ice crystals shifting through the glass of water in his hands had not been subtle.

Moments stretched into hours. Danny tried not to collapse into himself. Duke was the first to react, practically jumping across the table. Instinctively Danny snatched his hands off the table, but that didn’t deter Duke in the slightest. He grabbed the glass of one liquid water, holding it up in the air triumphantly like it was a trophy, a grin splitting his face. “Yes!” He hollered. “Finally!”

“You’re a meta?” The previously silent Damian accused, eyebrows arched disbelievingly.

“No.” Danny answered too fast, rejecting the perfectly crafted cover.

“Danny, it’s alright.” Bruce tried, freaked out by Danny freaking out.

“It’s way more than alright, dude.” Duke intervened, no regard for the delicacy Bruce was groping for. Excitement washed off of him in waves, “You’re an ice meta?” He asked again, leaning in as far as he could.

This time Danny’s mind actually processed the words. Metas were more common than not-a-ghost-but-still-kinda-dead-half-ghosts, and far more easily explained. Not trusting himself to speak, Danny nodded.

“I’m a meta too.” Duke confessed. Dick’s head snapped at him, alarmed. But Duke continued undeterred. “It’s kinda like light and shadow, but sometimes I can kinda see the future.” Duke said, pausing to think.

Before he could continue, the one who had undoubtedly ignited Danny’s ghost sense sauntered in. When the room continued to stay silent, Jason, presumably gave an annoyed and confused look, “Am I interrupting?” He snapped, “Last I heard I was supposed to be here under Martial Law.”

Chapter 14: damain and the enemy

Chapter Text

Daniel may share Damiam’s blood, but that didn’t mean that Damian was required to acknowledge him as his brother. Damian didn’t need a brother. And more importantly Damian didn’t want a brother. Richard and Drake had tried their hands at it, and Damian had left his mark on them. Literally. Daniel’s parentage would make him no different than them. If he attempted as such.

After the dramatic reveal of Daniel’s meta-abilities and Todd’s untimely entrance, dinner had gone a bit stiff. For some reason Todd seemed quite bothered by Daniel’s pressense, and Daniel, in turn, kept a watchful eye on Todd. When Father had confronted Todd, he had confessed he had never seen or met Daniel. Drake had given his confidence in Todd being a stranger to Daniel as well. It was a peculiar occurrence. Not that Damian cared for their mysterious slight of each other. He had far pressing matters to be concerned with.

Daniel had not stayed longer than deemed socially polite at dinner, and had come up with some excuse to scamper off to his room. Drake and Thomas had been quick to trail him. Damian saw no reason to stay any longer and had excused himself as well. After parading around his room earlier that day, no one would deem it suspicious if he had simply returned.

Damian did not doubt the honesty with which his mother had presumed her first born deceased. It was believable that Daniel truly had no affiliations with the League of Assassins as he had none with the Bats. Damian had honored his identity as a civilian to not attempt to initiate an act of physicality on Daniel. He had learned that much restraint in his time as Robin. Though if Daniel so much as brushed his arm in the hallways, Damian was not sure his integrity on the matter would remain.

Father and the other’s had taken to underestimating Daniel. But if he truly was Mother’s son, he would be an utter disgrace on the bloodline to suspect nothing. Especially after the stunt Thomas pulled. There was a reason no one questioned his stay as the only day time hero. Richard had claimed that they would eventually come clean to Daniel about their vigilante identities once they were confident he could handle it. But Damian suspected Daniel would come to the conclusion long before they considered the trail of honesty. Damian needed to know exactly what intentions Daniel had with the new information when (if) he managed to discover their secret.

Entering his room, Damian slipped into more subtle attire. Daniel’s room was not far from Damian’s. Damian turned the shower on and left the bathroom light on and slipped out his window. He crawled on the uneven stoning of the outside wall with practiced ease, and found his way into the room right of Daniel’s. Damian had long since memorized the floor planning of the Manor, like any of the residents, but perhaps unlike all of them he was still small enough to fit through the air filtration ducts. In the unoccupied guest room, Damian made sure to leave no traces for Alfred to know of his escapade.

He scurried down the pipe into the corner he knew led to Daniel’s room. Damian carefully checked that Daniel was certainly absent before sneaking an audio monitoring device near the air vent for easy recovery in the future. He had contemplated opting for a camera, but he would show Daniel at least that much decency. The design of the device was purposely subtle to avoid detection. Not wanting to risk getting caught, Damian quickly made his escape.

Damian had cleaned up his cover and changed into a fresh set of pajamas and took to his easel. He had been having a bit of a slump in his usual artistic process. Damian had done his research to find the cure. Some had suggested that he take a break and reevaluate his view of the project, another suggested that he try a new angle, another that he simply give himself a break. Damian had tried them all, yet here he was, unable to even draw a single line correctly. Frustration gripped at him, and the blank canvas stared at him tauntingly. Checking the time Damian realized it was time for patrol. Another day of no progress in overcoming the block on his art. Damian huffed to himself as he headed to the Cave.

Damian had kept in the earpiece that allowed him access to Daniel’s room while he followed after Father on patrol. It was a largely uneventful night, bar the usual discrepancies to be expected from the city. The sound of a far away door creaked in Damian’s ear.

Daniel had returned to his room. There was light shuffling, a deep sigh, and the sound of Daniel plopping into bed. Perhaps not installing a camera was a bad call. Robin trailed after Batman on their usual route, while Damian listened to their newest resident.

“Oracle, what is Red Robin’s status?” Batman asked into the comms.

“Danny has returned to his room for the night, but he agreed to keep the fort down on his end. He’s available for standby.” She reported back faithfully. “Signal has retired for the day.”

Daniel stayed quiet in Damian’s ear. There was a ringing sound, Daniel had called someone. After a moment- ‘Hi, Jazz.’ Daniel greeted, brightly. This must be the sister Daniel had claimed he had always been close with.

‘Danny!’ A feminine voice exclaimed back. Ridiculous. Did she not know who she was answering the phone to? ‘How is everything going?’

‘Great, everything is good.’ There was a pause indicating for the woman to speak. When she did not, Daniel continued, ‘Okay, maybe good wasn’t the right word. Crazy, definitely. Bruce picked me up, casually on his private jet that has a fully stocked fridge on board, and a game room. Jazz, their private jet has an onboard game room .’ Danny explained animatedly. His sister responded with sounds of astonishment and socially appropriate adlibs. ‘Then when we get off, Alfred, their butler, comes to pick us up. The ride was pretty chill, and everyone was super nice when we got here.’

The specification of the people who had come to greet him rather than including all the residents was not lost on Damian. Neither Damian nor Todd had been present at his arrival. Perhaps Damian would be able to discover the reason behind his distaste of Todd if Daniel confessed it to his sister.

‘What about the little one? What was his name? Donatello? No, um-’ The woman began, but Daniel cut him off.

‘It’s Damian.’ He supplied, quickly. Damian couldn’t help but freeze at his name being said unexpectedly. Batman turned to him at the unexpected stop. Robin quickly continued in pace, Damian’s attention elsewhere. ‘We didn’t really talk much, but I kinda get the feeling he doesn’t like me too much.’ Daniel understated with a nervous chuckle. At least he had managed to deduce as much. ‘He seems like a cool kid, though. Maybe he’ll warm up to me.’ Damian blinked at the honesty in his tone. As if it were truly Damian he wanted to please, and not Father. Or some unreasonable desire that everyone approved of him. Perhaps Damian had simply interpreted the wording wrong.

‘Well Ellie warmed up to you, I’m sure Damal-’

‘Damian.’

‘Right, Damian, sorry. But I’m sure he’ll warm up to you soon enough.’ The woman encouraged, ‘What about the others?’ She prompted. The perfect opening to speak about Todd.

‘There’s Tim. It was a little awkward at first, but we ended up looking through some of my old sketches.’

‘Danny, that's amazing!’

‘There’s also Duke, Steph, Cass. They were super fun. Well Cass is a little intimidating, but Tim said everyone else thinks so too. I met Barbra and Jason, but we didn’t hang out that much.’

‘That’s a lot of people.’

‘Yeah, then um…’ Daniel’s voice trailed off in hesitance.

‘What?’ His sister asked, concerned.

‘Well, I kinda iced a glass of water at dinner.’ Daniel confessed in a small voice.

‘Danny!’ His sister exclaimed in an outrage of shock, ‘Did anyone see?’

‘Full house.’

‘Oh no.’ She gasped, ‘What- How-?’ she couldn’t seem to find the words.

‘I went surprisingly not as bad as it totally could’ve.’ Daniel admitted.

‘Really?’ His sister asked disbelievingly, ‘That’s- that’s good. It’s great. What about-’ She started but Daniel cut her off. Damian noticed Daniel did not mention Thomas’s meta status despite the possibility that it would make the explanation more seamless.

‘No one was harsh about it.’ He said with a finality that Damian found strange.

There was a beat of silence, ‘Are you sure you’re okay with them knowing?’ She asked instead this time, ‘You didn’t even tell mom and dad yet. You’re usually really good about keeping your powers on the low.’ Daniel had not informed his previously assumed birthparents of his abilities and had pointedly kept it hidden from them. That warranted some investigation, and if Damian cared about Daniel’s well being, which he did not, he may have been concerned. It put the lack of mentioning Thomas’s confession as a meta to his sister in a new perspective. It was obvious his sister knew about Daniel’s meta-status. Had Daniel told her of his abilities willingly, or had she simply stumbled onto the fact like they had at dinner? Would Daniel have continued to hide his meta abilities from them if it weren’t for that incident? Damian could hardly consider it unfair considering they were keeping many things from Daniel.

‘I don’t know, I guess I just got a little spooked.’ His sister made a thoughtful sound. ‘How’s college going?’ Daniel bated. Like a donkey to a carrot the conversation diverged, and Damian instantly lost interest. Daniel was hiding something from even his sister that he claimed to tell everything to. Perhaps the Fentons required further investigation. As did Daniel.

---

The night's patrol had been a lengthy one and Damian was more than ready to be rid of his uniform for the night. Damian took a quick shower in the changing rooms, and returned to his sleep wear from before. Confident Daniel was now fast asleep, Damian headed to take the main exit out of the Cave.

“Damian.” Father called from behind him, “I’d like to speak with you.” He had also undressed from his Batman attire and sported much lounge appropriate wear.

Damian frowned. He did not wish to discuss the anomaly that Daniel was presenting to be currently. “Is it urgent? I’d like to scavenge what time I have left to sleep for the night.” Damian crossed his arms.

Father considered for a moment. “You were distracted on patrol today.”

Damian made sure to maintain the annoyance in his body language. If Father found out he had been spying on Daniel he would surely be in very deep trouble. “I simply had a lot on my mind, Father.” Damian said dismissively.

It was hardly a believable lie for Father, but fortunately he took Damian’s disinterest in the conversation as a sign to conclude. “I see. Sleep well.”

---

The search on the Fentons showed nothing out of the ordinary for two people whose life’s work involved publicly researching and hunting ghosts. Though Damian did happen upon the Anti-Ecto Acts that were passed two years ago right under the nose of the Justice League in clear violation of the meta right acts at least 10 years old by now. As well as an alleged government funded organization that hunted ghosts called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or more commonly GIW.

Daniel’s records were very standard for a public school student. His grades were only above average, in contrast to his highly praised athletic achievements. It seemed Daniel had tried his hand at many, martial arts, swimming, tennis, track. But as he aged into middle school there were only two that were constantly recurring: hockey and football. (Soccer, but Damian would never stoop so low as to refer to it as such.) But even the remaining sports seemed to disappear before Daniel’s transition to highschool.

The timeline coincided perfectly with his emergency visit to the hospital 4 years ago. Based solely on the medical notes Damian couldn’t conclude what exactly had transpired.The repercussions they caused on Daniel records was evident. His grades previously averaging around 90 took a swoop to a generous 70 and the only time he was spotted near athletics was as a spectator.

With that information perhaps Damian should not have been so surprised to see Daniel in the garden kicking around a football. Damian had been returning from a walk with Titus when the inevitable encounter occurred. For the 10 days of Daniel’s residence at the Manor, Damian had made a point to not run into the other. On occasion their paths would cross, but Damian made no effort to stay. Daniel had no doubt taken notice of this.

Now in this large expanse of freshly pruned shrubbery, Damian had no escape. Even if he did not rejoice in Daniel’s presence, he must show him that he was the superior sibling. As such must present himself with respectable manners.

Dribbling the ball easily from foot to foot, Daniel looked up surprised to find Damian only a few feet away. Snubbing any chance of a seamless escape. Daniel smiled at him with sickening cheer, “Damian.” He waved, walking over. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” Damian responded flatly, hoping Daniel would flee from his prickliness like the others.

Daniel only grimaced, “Right, sorry, that was dumb.” He laughed awkwardly. His eyes landed on Titus, “You have a dog?” Daniel asked, surprised, waving a greeting at Titus.

“Yes, this is Titus.”

“Hi Titus, nice to meet you.” Danny’s hand hovered over Titus’s head as he looked at Damian for permission to pet him. Damian looked at him consideringly. Was Daniel pretending to view Damian as his equal despite his obvious favor from Father, and subsequently the rest of the brood, as the elder son? Titus lifted his head to sniff the palm of Daniel’s unmoving hand. When Damian refrained from giving Daniel permission, he simply removed himself without so much as a speck of disappointment. “Uh, anyway it was cool seeing you. I won’t bother you if you don’t wanna stay.” Daniel added, kicking the football to his hands with a practice ease. Titus tilted his head curiously at the smooth movement.

Damian could have just walked away. After all, Daniel had given him the perfect exit. Father had informed Damian that his turn of staying at the Manor to deter Daniel from discovering their absence was fast approaching. It would do well for Damian to foster a semblance of a relationship so his intervention would not raise suspicion.

Daniel had already taken a few steps away, releasing Damian from the conversation. Damian steeled himself for the elongated interaction. “Daniel.” The teen turned around to face Damian, surprised. “I was unaware you enjoyed football.” Damian lied easily.

“Football?” Daniel questioned, confused. Damian nodded towards the ball in his hands. “Oh. Soccer, football. Right.” He laughed awkwardly again. “I forgot you grew up in the Middle East.” Daniel commented, likely to himself.

Damian bristled at that, “Is that a problem?” His grip on Titus’s leash tightened.

“I mean not really. It threw me off for a minute, but I’ll remember next time.” Daniel waved off, misunderstanding Damian’s question with ernest. Damian raised a brow at that but said nothing. “Do you play?” Daniel asked.

“No. I had more important things to focus on during my upbringing.” Damian huffed, “Though, I can’t imagine it takes much to kick a ball around.”

Daniel tongued the inside of his cheek to hide a growing smile, “You think so?” He asked curiously.

“Of course. If a bunch of oafs can do it, why can’t I?” Damian had often seen children playing football at the park or during mandatory physical education. Damian did not understand the appeal.

Daniel dropped the ball from his hands, and let it roll around his legs, “Why don’t you prove that?”

Damian took offense, “You think I can't.” he accused.

“Well, personally, I’ve never seen you do any sports, so pardon me for being a little suspicious.” Daniel shrugged animatedly. “If you really are that good, then stealing the ball from me should be a piece of cake.”

Quickly Damian unfastened Titus’s leash, releasing him. A victorious smile crept on Daniel’s face as Damian turned back to him, accepting his needless challenge. Damian was, after all, the superior brother. But just as the spar was about to begin, Daniel stepped on the ball firmly, restricting any movement.

“Before we start, there's one thing we need to make clear.” He stared dramatically, putting a finger in Damian’s vision. “It’s Danny not Daniel.”

“Daniel.” Damian defied.

“Danny.”

“Daniel.”

Daniel huffed at Damian’s defiance. Victory was always sweet. “Then, Dami.”

“What- do not call me by such a childish nickname.” Damian insisted, stomping his foot to make clear his stubbornness.

“I’ll only call you Damian if you call me Danny.”

Defeat was bitter, but it tasted better with your enemies. “Daniel.”

“Let’s start the game then, Dami.” Ignoring the slight at the nickname, Damian ran for the ball. He had enough exposure to the sport to know use of hands was prohibited even if it seemed like a needless handicap. Daniel changed the ball’s trajectory last minute, and Damian’s foot skidded through the dirt. Daniel turned to him concerned, but Damian was quick to recover and went for a secondary attack.

It took an un-numbered amount of tries before Damian managed to score the ball from his adversary. But Daniel had been quick to snatch it back, and tried to form some distance between himself and Damian. But Damian was fast, quickly made way after him. For his unsportsmanlike behavior of taking the ball from Damian, who had earned it after a significant amount of hard work, Damian pushed all his body weight into Daniel. Successfully knocking the older boy off balance, Damian took the ball from between his fumbling feet and made a safe distance before turning to declare his victory.

“Still think Soccer’s for a bunch of oafs, Dami?” Daniel snarked between breaths of air, not bothering to pick himself up from where Damian had knocked him. For some reason the nickname didn’t bother Damian as much as it had before.

“Perhaps my opinion had been ill conceived. But I managed to get the ball from you twice, so I was not completely mistaken.” Damian retorted, his own chest beating rapidly.

As if this had been a scheduled activity, Alfred comes around, pushing a cart of refreshments and snacks. “Hello Alfred.” Daniel greeted when the butler came into view.

“Good afternoon to you, Master Danny. Master Damian. It seems the both of you have worked up quite the sweat. Do replenish yourselves.” Alfred left the cart in between the both of them.

The chilled glass of lemonade beckoned for Damian. “Afternoon?” Damian asked, making his way to the serving.

“Yes, you both have been about for the last 2 and a half hours.” Alfred elaborated.

Had it truly taken Damian that long to steal the ball from Daniel? Perhaps Daniel was a formidable opponent indeed. Damian would require practice to best him.

Chapter 15: midnight hospitality

Chapter Text

“Make sure to actually sleep and not just work on another one of your projects all night, Danny.” Jazz chided through the phone.

Danny rolled his eyes, “Yes, ma’am.” He snarked, “Good luck on your midterms.”

“Call me soon.”

“Bye, Jazzy.” Danny hung up the phone, silence echoing in his too-large-but-apparently-still-small room. Danny sighed as he pushed himself off the plush bedding knowing he wouldn’t feel safe enough to sleep in the Manor for a while. Stretching his back, he eyed the new listening device placed on the corner of the air vents in the ceiling. The device was nearly unnoticeable, easily passable as a screw. It would’ve gone completely unnoticed if it weren’t for the ability most ghosts shared to sense recording and transmission devices. That was how most of the visual fry from ghost sightings happened. Sensing was easy enough, but Danny had to make sure to keep his powers at bay so he didn’t accidentally fry its circuits.

Danny wasn’t sure who had placed the device there. It had appeared after he had returned from Tim’s room after a tour and a video game session with Duke. Duke, who was definitely Signal. Naturally it couldn’t have been Tim or Duke because they were with him the whole time. Based on where the device was hidden, the culprit’s point of entry had to have been the air vents. The only people small enough to fit through there were Cass and Damian. Either was a fair game, as far as Danny could tell. He decided playing dumb was the best bet concerning the device.

Playing dumb could only get him so far though. Like with Jason Todd. Jason’s vigilante alias was a bit more difficult to conclude, if there even was one. Red Hood was the only plausible option, but that seemed like a bit of a stretch. One thing Danny did know about Jason was that he was dead. Was, past tense. As in not dead anymore. Jason had previously died but was no longer dead. Danny could sense it the second he had walked into the dining hall. He probably sensed it before that. Someone who simply had heart failure or woke up from a long coma wouldn’t have that notable of an ecto-signature on them like Jason did. The fact was Jason had died. Fully. And came back a little less fully. Not that anyone really came back fully from the dead.

Jason was of the un-dead. Like Danny. And Vlad.

The possibilities of how were endless. Had the Waynes conducted some sort of necromancy to get him back? That was highly unlikely. Not because they didn’t seem the type, but rather Jason was incredibly well put together to have been brought back by necromancy. Had it been another natural rift like Danny’s un-death? Off vibes alone, Danny couldn’t figure anything else out right now. Based on the heavy side-eye he was getting at dinner, Jason knew something too.

Pandora had once told Danny that, as the only holder of the crown, the residents of the Infinite Realms would all instinctively recognize him as such. It was a factor of the ecto-signature… or something. Danny didn’t quite remember. But there were also those that stood against the order of things. And in this case it was the faction that aligned themselves with Vlad to take the Infinite Crown for themselves.

Danny wasn’t sure how much Jason knew about his un-death, and subsequently where his loyalties lay in that sense. He would have to be careful.

Beginning to feel really claustrophobic in his room, Danny decided to explore some more of the Manor. Maybe grab a snack. Danny wandered around until he finally found the kitchen. Everything in the kitchen looked practically untouched, it was unbelievable after the variety of dishes that had been prepared for dinner. Danny wasn’t even sure if he was allowed in here. Not wanting to get into unnecessary trouble, he decided to take the safest option and leave.

“Is there something I can help you with, Young Master Danny?” Alfred suddenly appeared in the doorway.

It took all of Danny’s self-restraint not to flinch, “Uh- Alfred. Sorry, I was just looking around.” Danny moved to quickly leave the red-zone of the kitchen.

“I do not bite, Master Danny.” Alfred said with a pleasant chuckle. “Unprovoked.” He added after a thoughtful moment. Danny blinked at him. “Is there something you need?”

“No, I uh- couldn’t sleep so I thought I could look around. Sorry, Dick told me we weren’t allowed in the kitchen.” Danny confessed honestly, taking the remaining step to be out of the butler’s dominion.

“Master Dick would be mistaken.” Aflred smiled at him easily, “He simply is not allowed in the kitchen because of previous displays of inaptitude. The ban stretches to Master Tim, Miss. Stephanie, and Master Bruce, respectively.”

“Oh,” Danny nodded, wondering what qualified as displays of inaptitude , but did not question the older man.

“What is your opinion on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?” Alfred asked, walking deeper into the kitchen.

“Um, it’s good?” Danny answered, unsure.

“Perfect. And crust?” Alfred asked, beckoning Danny closer.

Hesitantly, Danny neared the counter Alfred had almost magically prepared the sandwich at. “I’m good with crust.”

“I do hope sourdough does not sour your appetite.” Alfred joked, handing Danny the plate with two triangle shaped slices of the sandwich.

“Thanks.” Danny laughed, taking it with gratitude.

“In the future do not hesitate to go as you like. Or if you prefer, feel free to ask me. You are a resident here, after all.” Alfred put away all the supplies, leaving the counter looking as sparkling as it had when they had come in.

Danny nodded, taking a bite of the sandwich. “Woah,” his eyes widened, “This is really good.”

“It is one of my expertise.” Alfred tilted his chin up in pride. “If you’re interest in exploring the Manor still stands, I would welcome some company on my final rounds.”

“I wouldn’t be in your way?” Danny had already downed a triangle, and was half way through the second.

“A welcomed distraction, if it were the case.” Alfred responded honestly. Danny nodded smally at him, embarrassed. Alfred smiled at the accepted offer, “Let’s make haste.” Alfred turned and walked at a steady pace through the halls. Danny trailed after him like an apparition.

They went through the maze-like rooms and halls that Danny tried to memorize. Alfred made conversation by explaining some of the relevance and importance of the things in the room. Danny listened attentively, asking questions when they arose, to show interest.

“This next room is one of the lesser used libraries. It mostly serves as an informational archive, as opposed to the more functional libraries on the upper floors.” Alfred explained, leading the way into yet another grand room. Arrays of bookshelves lined the floor, filled to the brim with aged catalogs. Glancing at one, Danny realized it was dated 1746 by a C. Wayne. Alfred made his way around, dusting the vintage furniture in the corners of the room. Danny perused the room waiting for Alfred to finish, the man already declining his help multiple times by now.

Turning into another row of bookshelves, separated with a small couch in the middle, Danny’s eyes caught in the portrait hung up on the wall. It was large and hand painted, but unlike the other portraits that lined the archive, this one seemed more modern. Based on the outfits of the people in the portrait, it was maybe around 50 years old. There was a man and a woman, presumably husband and wife. On the lap of the woman was a small child, maybe six. The portrait was so striking, the rest of the room seemed to fade away. Even the wisps and ghosts seemed enamored with the painting. Danny would have mistaken the child for Damian if it weren’t for his sky blue eyes as opposed to Damian’s forest green, and the additional fact that the man in the portrait held little resemblance to Bruce.

The man’s eyes stared into Danny’s. Deep and steel. He had been a stubborn man. His posture was at ease, leaning into the woman and the child. Eyes twinkling at Danny, a stormy sort of blue. His hand was on the woman’s shoulder, rather than the more comfortable position on the rim of the chair she sat on.

There was an unprecedented amount of emotion linked to this painting. Art tended to hold at least a morsel of the creators intent and emotions, but the emotions on this painting were mushing together. Like they came from different sources. Danny could feel his core pulse at the painting, not realizing he had begun walking closer to it. His hand reached out, almost grazing the delicate gold frame of the portrait.

These people- they suffered. No. Grief and tragedy. It couldn’t be theirs. The painter’s? Someone else entirely? It was hollowing. Unending.

Danny felt like it was dragging him in. Like he was meant to be in the portrait. Go inside . Yes, he could go inside and- “Young Master Danny?” Who was there? Phantom’s head turned- “There you are.” Alfred. Danny was exploring the Manor with Alfred. “For a moment I thought boredom had influenced you to run off.” Alfred said lightly.

Danny was in the archives. It was a painting. “Who are they?” Danny asked quietly, hoping he hadn’t done anything strange in his stupor.

Alfred seemed hesitant to turn his attention away from Danny, but he looked up at the portrait. A distant memory played in his eyes. Danny realized he could see Alfred’s breath in the cold of the room. It hadn’t been that cold before. The ghosts and wisps were long gone as well. Danny let the chill dissipate at a steady rate. “That is your grandfather, the late Master Thomas. He was to be your namesake. And your grandmother, Mistress Martha.”

Danny eyed the golden pearls around the lady- his grandmother’s neck. She was beautiful. Cheerful and bright, and the lightest brush of pink on her cheek gave her an innocent glow. Her eyes were the same swirls of blue as the child, and now that Danny knew, he could see the child’s resemblance to Bruce. . “Yes she was.” Alfred smiled, turning to him as he said that. Had Danny said that outloud?

“Then that kid-” Danny looked at the painting.

“That would be a childhood photo of Master Bruce.” Alfred nodded. “The painting was commissioned just a month before Young Master Bruce’s fifth birthday. It was your grandmother’s favorite.”

“How come it’s hauled all the way up here then?” Danny questions, eyes locking with his grandfather’s again.

“After the death of your grandparents- a tragedy you’ve heard of, I trust?” Alfred questioned. Danny nodded, everyone in the world probably knew. “Yes, well I’m sure you can imagine how devastated Master Bruce had been then. The pleasant memories he’d once associated with this portrait haunted him.” Alfred paused, tearing his eyes away from the portrait and looking at the bookshelves blankly. “At the time he asked me to get rid of it, but I did not have the heart. Instead I stored it away, in hopes that it could grace the public, when Master Bruce allowes.”

Danny looked at the portrait again. They had been the perfect family.

They could have been the perfect family.

Alfred had already made his way back into the intricate decorated hallways. Danny waved goodbye to the giggly child in the portrait and trailed after him.

“I’ve concluded most of my cleaning for the night. All that’s left is to prepare breakfast for tomorrow.” Alfred explained as he stored the cleaning supplies.

“I can help. I’m not an amazing chef, but I know my way around a stove.”

Alfred continued walking, in a direction Danny was quite confident did not lead towards the kitchen. “I assure you, Young Master, I am quite capable. But before I begin my preparations, there is one more location I would like to share with you.”

Curious, Danny followed the elderly man through the maze of trees and expensive bushes into a secluded corner near the larger of the two lakes on the property. Alfred walked deeper into the seclusion, Danny only a few paces behind. The butler stopped on the boundary of an approaching cleaning. “This is where Master Bruce, Master Dick, and I had believed you lay until the discovery two weeks ago.” Alfred explained softly. “It may be true that it is not your body that was buried here, but Master Bruce, and Master Dick would often come visit you here.” The look in Alfred’s eyes made it clear that they had not been the only ones. “The others tend to steer clear of this area. But I will leave you to make your own decision on the matter.” Alfred paused.

Danny blinked, not sure how to process the emotions erupting in his chest. They visited his grave? He had a grave? “Thank you, Alfred.” Danny said, meaningfully.

Alfred smiled. Unlike the other smiles from before, always behind a mask of professionalism and hospitality, this one was raw and unfiltered. He reached for Danny’s shoulder and placed a gentle hand. “For as long as you decide to reside under the Wayne name, I am always at your service, Master Danny.”

For the first time since Danny had arrived at the Manor- for the first time since Danny had met Nightwing at The Mall- he did not doubt the honesty of the words spoken to him. “Thank you, Alfred.” Danny whispered, leaning in the calloused hand.

“Good night, Young Master.” Alfred bid, letting Danny visit the grave sight alone.

Danny took a stabilizing breath, as he stepped through what was left to conceal the grave.

Danny’s grave.

It was his grave Danny realized. Even if his body hadn’t been buried underneath it. It was his grave in emotion and thought. It was him that they mourned.

Danny had been mourned.

Thomas Wayne Jr.

Beloved Son

February 12, 20XX - February 23, 20XX

Beloved son. Would his parents have put that on his grave? Had Danny been a son to them?

Danny had been somebody’s son. Somebody’s beloved son.

Danny looked at the patch of thinning grass. He had learned that only happened when people took the same path for a really long time back on Aunt Alicia’s farm during summer breaks in grade school. The grass thinned because people walked on it a lot.

Danny had been loved. And he had been mourned.

Danny had a grave.

Danny had a grave all this time.

“Hey, man.” Danny greeted, his voice croaking out of his throat, as he crouched into a squat. The grave marker was in pristine condition, nothing but the wear and tear of the weather marred it. Danny dusted off some loose dirt from its surface. His voice cracked, and streaks of water poured down his cheeks. “Crazy meeting like this, huh?”

Danny had a home this whole time like all the other ghosts.

---

Danny knocked on the dark wooden door. “Come in.” Bruce’s voice came muffled from the other side. The door didn’t so much as creak as Danny shoved it open. Bruce looked up from his stack of Important Papers and Danny walked in. “Danny, good morning.” Bruce smiled at him. The blue eyes of the pearled lady crinkled at the corners, as Bruce beckoned him to the plush chairs opposite him.

“G’morning. Alfred said you wanted me?” Danny explained, sinking into the cushions.

“That’s right. Nothing serious, don’t worry.” Bruce rummaged through a separate stack of papers, “Well, it’s a little serious.” He laughed. Danny wondered if he imagined the nervous edge to it. Finally finding the ones he had been looking for, he turned back to Danny. “Well since your parents handed over full custody of you to me, there's a few technical things to iron out. So to say.” Bruce explained, fidgeting with the expensive looking pen in his grip.

“Oh, yeah. For sure.” Danny nodded, trying not to let the older man’s nerves rub off on him.

“For- legality purposes, that is- and well, a Wayne by birth, if you er- which name you would like to use? Surname, that is. On your documentation. You could hyphenate if you liked.” Bruce rambled, before quickly adding, “Of course, I understand if you would like to keep Fenton as you have currently. They did raise you.” The pen twirled like a ballerina between Bruce’s fingers. “You can take some time to decide, if that's what you need.”

Danny considered the words. Danny Fenton. Danny Fenton-Wayne. Danny Wayne-Fenton. Danny Wayne.

Alfred’s words from the night before echoed in Danny’s mind. Danny was confident Alfred had not meant the phrase under the Wayne name literally. But even still, “I think Wayne is good.” In silent homage to those words.

Bruce breathed, tension immediately withdrawing from his body, a pleased smile playing at his eyes. He positioned the paper and clicked the pen, ready to write. “Were you thinking of Wayne-Fenton, or Fenton-Wayne?” He asked, much more confidently now.

Danny stood up a little straighter in the chair he was drowning in, “Just Wayne.”

Bruce blinked at him, as if he had misheard. “Pardon?”

“Wayne. Daniel Wayne.” The pearled lady from the portrait eyes lit up, and the giggling child smiled widely at Danny.

Chapter 16: jason’s uber services

Chapter Text

There was a light knock on the door to Bruce’s study. “Come in.” He said, finishing up the stack of papers he was reviewing. Knowing it would be Danny, none of his other kids would have knocked, he smiled “Danny, good morning.”

“G’morning.” He walked to Bruce’s desk, “Alfred said you wanted me?”

“That’s right.” Suddenly breakfast wasn’t sitting so well in Bruce’s stomach. Trying to hide his nerves, “Nothing serious, don’t worry.” He should’ve separated those papers. Realizing what he said, “Well, it’s a little serious.” he tried to amend, adding a laugh to add to the casualness. Here. He pulled out the folder his lawyer had sent to him. Okay, Bruce, don’t stress him out, make sure he knows he has options. “Well since your parents handed over full custody of you to me,” he started, “there's a few technical things to iron out. So to say.” Bruce kept his voice steady, using his skills he’d mastered during his many years as a CEO.

“Oh, yeah. For sure.” Danny nodded, looking uncomfortable in the chair.

Bruce’s muscles tensed. “For- legality purposes, that is- and well, a Wayne by birth, if you er- which name you would like to use?” Ugh, “Surname, that is. On your documentation.” Good save. “You could hyphenate if you liked.” Tim had hyphenated his name when he moved in with Bruce. “Of course, I understand if you would like to keep Fenton as you have currently. They did raise you.” Dick and Jason kept their names. Though Bruce had never really brought up the matter with Dick, and Jason… had considered it for a time. This is Danny, not Tim, Dick or Jason, Bruce reminded himself. Bruce fiddled with the pen to help direct his attention. There was a long beat of silence where Danny didn’t answer. “You can take some time to decide, if that's what you need.” Bruce added.

Danny had a thoughtful expression on his face, a memory playing in his eyes. “I think Wayne is good.” He said quietly.

Finding the calm of the storm, Bruce finally felt like he could breathe. “Were you thinking of Wayne-Fenton, or Fenton-Wayne?” He asked, facing the paper.

“Just Wayne.” Danny said easily.

Bruce must have misheard. “Pardon?”

“Wayne. Daniel Wayne.” Danny repeated, holding his head up proudly.

“Daniel Wayne.” Bruce repeated, writing the name carefully on the documentation. Daniel Wayne.

He chose Wayne. He chose Bruce.

Even though Bruce had failed him for 16 years of his life, Danny still picked Bruce.

Danny Wayne. Just Wayne .

Bruce couldn’t stop the smile that cracked through his attempt of seeming calm and collected. Not wanting to lose himself, Bruce turned back to Danny (Wayne), “Once this gets filed we can have you enrolled into school and have your bank cards sent out.” Danny nodded to the first half before the understanding melted into confusion.

“Bank cards?” He asked.

“It shouldn't take too long to get it made,” Bruce explained, “They should be done by the end of the week at the latest. Tim has a weekly allowance of 950,000, and since you’re both around the same age, yours will be the same as well.” Bruce examined Danny’s face of disbelief. Was that too little? Maybe he should up it to- No. Put your foot down, Bruce. You can’t just buy your children’s approval.

“950,000?” Danny echoed hollowly.

“You’re right, there’s no point in being so frugal. I’ll have my secretary change it to 1,500,000.” Bruce nodded to himself. Danny was a growing boy, what could he possibly buy with just $950,000. Especially in this economy. Bruce made the right choice. Danny stared at him blankly. Leaning into his drawer, Bruce found some of the light cash he kept with him. “Until that gets worked out,” He handed the small stack to Danny, “If you run out, you can just ask. Unfortunately, I don’t often carry cash.”

Danny stayed quiet in his seat contemplatively, before he asked, “What school will I be going to?”

“The others seem satisfied with Gotham Academy. It’s usually around a 30 minute drive from the Manor, I imagine Tim and Duke can tell you more about that.” Bruce explained, “Though, if you had a different school you were considering, I wouldn’t mind looking into it.”

“I’ve heard of Gotham Academy before.” Danny nodded, “It’s supposed to be really competitive academically, right?” He asked, concerned.

“I’m confident it’s nothing you can’t handle.” Bruce encouraged.

Danny nodded, “Do they have any athletics?”

Bruce blinked surprised. “I don’t think so.” He hesitated, pulling the school up on his computer where Danny could see. “It doesn’t look like it.”

“Oh,” Danny said disappointed, “Okay.”

“Do you enjoy sports?”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny fidgeted with a pillow that had made its way into his lap, “I used to play hockey, but then I kinda got into an accident and wasn’t clear for, uh,” he put up air quotes “ physically demanding activities .” Concern coursed through Bruce, “My sister took it really seriously, so I had to quit.” Danny looked up to see Bruce’s expression, “Honestly I feel fine! She was just being dramatic.” Danny rolled his eyes in a manner Bruce suspected was meant to console him.

Bruce considered it for a minute, “Can you tell me about the accident?” He asked carefully, not sure if Danny felt comfortable enough with him to disclose that.

“Uh, my parents would have me and my sister help out in their lab sometimes.” He started hesitantly, “They asked me to clean up a little while they headed out to grab some stuff,”

“They left you in their lab unsupervised?” Bruce asked, trying to not let his condemnation of their behavior show.

“Yeah,” Danny shrugged, not understanding the severity of the situation, “Me and my friends- you remember Tucker and Sam, right?” Bruce nodded, “They were over, so they decided to keep me company while I cleaned. And there was this thing they were working on, I kinda messed around with it.” Bruce held his breath, “There must have been something off with the circuiting, I tripped on some wires, and got electrocuted.” Bruce stared at him, unmoving. “It sounds way worse than it was.” Bruce seriously doubted that. “Anyway, I’m fine now.” Danny said cheerfully. “That’s how I found out I was a meta.” Danny added, excitedly.

Bruce took a careful breath, trying to keep his emotions in check, “I’ll schedule a doctor’s visit, and we can see what they have to say.”

“I don’t need to go to a doctor.” Danny protested with a frown.

“I can’t imagine any respectable hockey organization would be willing to take you in without proper medical documentation.” Bruce countered easily.

A look of defeat flashed on Danny’s face, and Bruce knew he had won, albeit bitterly. “What about…” Danny trailed off, letting the ice creeping around his fingers speak for him.

“That won’t cause any problems.” Bruce smiled placatingly. Writing a note for himself to call Dr. Tompkins later, “How old were you when the accident happened?”

“Around 12,” Danny shrugged,

Bruce quickly gripped his reaction from leaking into his features. Bruce remembered Danny’s careful demure that he only seemed to hold around the Fentons. Bruce would never be referring to those people as his parents again. Not trusting himself to linger in this conversation, “Once we have the medical documentation, we can have you signed up for your pick of the sports organizations Gotham has to offer.” Bruce forced a smile.

Danny grinned excitedly, “Okay.”

“One last thing, and I’ll be out of your hair.” Bruce tried appeasingly, not sure how Danny would take the following direction. “Since you’ve moved in with us, it will only be increasingly difficult to hide you from the public eye. Especially once you get started in school. I’ve learned from previous experiences that it’s generally best to get a lid on it before the press can, so to speak.” A small grimace found its way on Bruce’s face. Danny nodded understandingly, lips pressing into a line. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much any of us can do on the matter.”

“I kinda figured as much.” Danny laughed quietly, not seeming too fond of the idea.

“I could have an interview scheduled with the Daily Planet.” Bruce explained, “A close friend of mine works there. You may know of him, Clark Kent.”

“He’s Lois Lane’s husband.” Danny laughed more genuinely now.

“That’s right.” Bruce smiled along, not sure what Danny was reacting to. “I trust his integrity, he will do everything in his power to keep things in your favor.” Bruce said confidently, “He’s a close family friend and the kids are quite fond of him as well. I’m confident you will feel the same.” Danny considered Bruce’s words. “Tim and Damian are quite close with his two sons, Konner and Jon.”

“I think I’ve heard of them,” Danny nodded in thought. Konner had appeared with Tim many times in paparazzi photos, as well as the other Teen Titans members. There was a long pause before Danny finally spoke, “If it’s unavoidable, then I guess.” Danny shrugged.

Bruce gave him an apologetic look, “Do you know when you’d like to go?”

“Sooner the better. I think I’ll get psyched out if I had to keep thinking about it.” He said nervously, hugging the pillow.

---

The mid-day sun that bore through Jason’s curtains was only slightly less irritating than the alarm ringing on his phone. Jason didn’t even remember setting an alarm. “Shut up,” He groaned at it, missing after blindly trying to reach for it.

Forced to sit up from his comfortable bedding, Jason’s morning only got worse when he saw it was a call. “This better be f*cking important.”

“Good morning, Master Jason.” Alfred greeted from the other end, undeterred by Jason’s animosity.

Surprised, “Alfred?” Jason asked, taking a better look at the caller id.

“Yes,” The butler responded easily, “Master Bruce has attempted to get a hold of you numerous times, but there seemed to be something wrong with the line. I’m glad to see you’ve finally gotten around to fixing it.” Alfred chastised.

“Yeah,” Jason drawled, getting off the bed knowing he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now. “Technical problems.” He cited lamely, knowing Alfred wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important.

“Seeing as you seem to have had technical problems all week, I can’t imagine you have any plans for Saturday that you won’t be able to reschedule.” Alfred said with an immovable finality.

Knowing it was pointless to try to argue his way out of this, “What’s on Saturday?” Jason sighed.

“Master Bruce has scheduled a meeting for Young Master Danny with Mr. Kent at his workplace.” Jason knitted his brows together. Danny, huh? “Unfortunately, Master Bruce, Master Dick, Master Tim, and myself seem to be tied up with other matters on that date, and would not be able to take the Young Master. Seeing as you don’t seem to have any plans, Master Bruce asked that I check with you before attempting to reschedule the meeting.”

Jason hadn’t seen Danny since dinner almost a week ago, not that he would call it much of a meeting. He hardly knew the kid, but there was something off about him. Not necessarily bad, but Jason couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “What’d the kid say about it?” He asked, opening the fridge to scour for a meal.

“The Young Master had no reservations on the matter.” Alfred stated.

Jason sighed with more indignation than he truly felt about the matter, “When is it?”

“The appointment is this Saturday at 5 PM, in Metropolis.” There was a satisfaction in Alfred’s voice. Jason knew he’d lost when he answered the phone.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Jason huffed.

“I’m sure Master Bruce will appreciate it.” Alfred said, “Good day, Master Jason.”

“Bye, Alfred.” Jason said, hanging up. If the thing was at 5, and Metropolis was 2 hours away on a good day, they’d have to leave by 2 just to be safe. Jason was not going to take the kid and deal with the backlash of being late ‘cause of traffic. So Jason would have to leave for Bristol by 1. That meant they would get back around 8 at the earliest.

He sighed. Saturday was gonna be a long ass day. He was tired just thinking about it.

---

Jason couldn’t understand what was wrong with him. He had his goons doing rounds around the Alley so he didn’t need to worry about patrolling for the night. But something was still itching at him, and he couldn’t figure out why. He’d checked his bike at least a hundred times. He’d gone through all his helmets and arranged them in order from most to least protective. Checked his bike again. Found one of his old leather jackets that would probably fit the kid.

Jason had driven around the other brats before, not voluntarily obviously, but he’d never thought about it for more than the five minutes before he left with them. But he’d been planning and checking everything for this random ass kid. He might be a civilian, but he sure as hell wasn’t helpless. Jason would’ve known that without Dick’s fanboy explanation of how he apparently took down a whole gang of rogues back in his hometown, or Duke going on and on about finally having another meta around the house. There was something in the air around him that made Jason pay attention, like that stupid kid was someone important.

That wasn’t the only thing either. Now that Jason had gotten everything ready even though there was still an hour before he even needed to leave for Bristol, he had nothing to distract himself. His mind wandered back to dinner, and how the kid only picked at his food. Sure, Jason had been late and the kid might have eaten his fill before, but he wasn’t buying it. The food obviously wasn’t the problem, since Alfred made it. Maybe the kid just hated Jason and couldn’t stomach eating with him there. Had the kid seriously gone off hungry just ‘cause of Jason? What the f*ck Jason, that sh*t doesn’t even make any sense. Maybe he should go to the gym. It’ll help him warm up in case they get attacked- NO!

Jason checked the time. It wouldn’t be too unreasonable for him to head out now. Yes it would. No way he was about to give any of the brats ammo to make fun of him with. Especially not Dick. He might not be there right now, but he didn’t trust a person in that house to not get it back around to him. Grabbing both helmets Jason, locked the door behind him. He’d just chill out at a cafe. People did that. Jason was a normal guy, he could hang out at cafes.

How the hell do people make this look fun? Jason has been here for a whole 20 minutes, he’d ordered, gotten his order, ate his food, drank his drink, now what? Sit here and look bored out of his mind? Check. Honestly, why did Jason give two sh*ts about what some rich brats thought of him. He was the one doing them a favor. He doesn’t need to spend his whole morning being a prissy mom about it just so they would, what, not make fun of him? Bull. He was going to go to the Manor, right now. He didn’t care what anyone had to say about it.

“Master Jason.” Alfred greeted him at the door, surprised to see him so early, “Young Master Danny hasn’t come down yet.” He explained, walking with Jason to the kitchen.

Jason shrugged, trying to seem way more chill about it than he felt, “We got a minute. I thought I’d grab a bite while I waited.” Jason said rummaging through the fridge, already haven eaten twice today and definitely not having the space for a third time. He settled on a glass of orange juice under Alfred’s watchful gaze.

“I see.” Alfred watched him pour the glass, “I’ll inform the Young Master of your arrival.”

“‘Kay.” Jason sipped at the glass as the butler walked off. Maybe Jason should go watch some TV. There was a strange sense of comfort Jason got once he’d actually arrived at the Manor. Not that he’d ever say that to anyone, ever. But for some reason the thoughts that had been orbiting Danny and the trip to Metropolis, although not gone entirely, seemed calmer. Scrolling through his phone while the TV played in the background, Jason checked for any recent major fights in Metropolis. So that he could avoid those roads. That was the only reason.

Orange juice gone, and bored out of his mind, Jason was relieved his time bumming around was over. Wait, how did Jason know that Danny was coming downstairs? He hadn’t heard anything. Alfred appeared at the door of the movie room Jason was in. “The Young Master is waiting for you in the kitchen.” Jason blinked at the man. How could Jason have already known that?

“Alright, let's get this show on the road.” Jason huffed, faking his annoyance, and making a show of stretching as Alfred turned to walk away. Jason needed to give this kid an earful for making him wait a whole, he checked his phone, 25 minutes? Impressive. No it wasn’t.

When Jason got to the kitchen, like Alfred had said, Danny looked up at him just as he entered the room. “‘Sup.” Jason said, immediately wanting to kick himself afterwards.

“Hey.” Danny tried to smile, but it was too nervous and awkward to be considered as such. The kid was obviously nervous, leg bounding in anticipation, creased forehead, hands fidgeting with his phone even though he was looking at Jason. Was he nervous about Jason? If he was hanging out with Tim it wouldn’t be a too far gone conclusion. Jason usually liked being able to intimidate people by just being there, in fact, he took pride in it. But for some reason there was a sour taste in his mouth. He could also be nervous about the interview, Jason reasoned.

He should say something encouraging. “You got a haircut.” What the f*ck? On second thought, who allowed Jason to speak anyway?

Danny’s hand brushed the ends of his hair, “Yeah?” He gave Jason a look of confusion. Obviously. That was a wacky ass thing to say in your first conversation.

Alfred, who had been standing on the side observing the height of human social interaction, cleared his throat. Jason suspected it was to hide a laugh. “Master Jason has volunteered to take you to your meeting with Mr. Kent, Young Master Danny. Are you both prepared for your departure?”

Danny nodded. “We should get going then.” Jason tipped his head toward the door.

“Have a safe trip.” Alfred bid, walking them to the door.

“Bye, Alfred.” Danny waved as the door closed in the butler’s wake. He followed Jason quietly to where he had parked his bike. Jason pretended not to notice Danny’s eyes go wide in awe at the sight of his bike, which in Jason’s humble experience was pretty dope.

Jason fought the smirk that threatened his lips, tossing Danny the helmet he would never admit to having painstakingly picked out. “You don’t have a problem with the bike, right?” Jason asked coyly as Danny shoved his head into the helmet.

“No.” He said easily, glee lacing his words. He blinked, leaning closer to Jason to whisper, “You think I can drive it?” He tested.

“No.” Jason said sternly. Like he would ever let some grimy kid anywhere near the driver’s side of the bike. Did he have any idea how dangerous- “You know how to drive?” Jason said not wanting to get locked in another one of weird spirals.

“A friend of mine taught me,” Danny said, as Jason put on his own helmet. Throwing his leg over the bike he steadied it before gesturing Danny to board.

Knowing the between-helmet mics would activate on their own, “You look way too scrawny to be able to hold up a bike on your own, let alone drive one.”

“I’m stronger than I look.” Danny huffed, the Manor disappearing behind them. “You have mics in your helmet?” Danny appraised.

“Yeah.” Jason tried for offhanded.

He could feel Danny nodding against his back, “Cool.” After a moment, “Does that mean your helmets have aux?”

Jason laughed, “Driver picks the music, kid.”

“You look like you listen to Lana Del Ray.”

Jason spluttered, “What, like I would listen to-” he started defensively, “And even if I did, why does it even matter? Do you have beef with Lana Del Ray?” Danny only laughed at his defense, Jason realized too late what just transpired. No way he just got played by a 14 year old.

Chapter 17: wes's celebrity crush

Chapter Text

Danny watched with awe as the plains of nothing bled into the buildings that now surrounded them getting taller and grander. He’d been in Gotham for almost a week now, but the only time he’d left the Manor was when he went to school. Not that he minded, exploring the Manor had been adventure enough to satiate him for the time being. But Metropolis was nothing like Amity Park. There were crowds of people walking around in the downtown area, and the people slowly lessened as cars increased on their way deeper into the city. Danny could spot the tall building with ‘Daily Planet’ inscribed on the rotating globe on its roof even though they were still pretty far. Danny wondered if he would spot Superman dashing around in the sky.

“You're leaning.” Jason chastised lightly.

“Sorry,” Danny straightened in his seat.

“First time in the big city?” Jason teased.

“Kinda, yeah.” Danny admitted shyly.

Jason’s helmet inched towards him, “Wait for real? No one’s taken you through Gotham yet?” Genuine surprise laced his words. Danny shrugged, comfortably leaning on Jason’s wide back. He pushed his visor up to watch the people of the city. The ride had started off in unorganized conversation and slowly tapered into a comfortable silence.

They talked about the small stuff like music, and hobbies, sure. But that wasn’t what Danny needed to know. Danny was certain Jason was a Bat-affiliate even if he wasn’t sure which one. Jason told Danny stories of his new brothers, and the trouble they got into when Bruce wasn’t looking. Maybe Danny wouldn’t have thought anything of them, but knowing that they were Nightwing, Red Robin, current Robin, and so on, gave Danny a clue that Jason was trying to cover up a much bigger picture. Considering that Jason had died at one point, it made the most sense that he was the second Robin who‘d been murdered by the Joker. Danny suspected Jason may not be as aware of his ghostliness as Danny was.

But the drive had proven something else to Danny. Much more valuable than knowing which Gotham Vigilante Jason was, was knowing where his allegiance lined for the Crown. Ghosts were not creatures of deceit. Naturally there were exceptions, but Danny was confident Jason wasn’t one of them. He’d had many opportunities to corner Danny during their drive through corn fields and expanses of farm lands on their drive, where the only witness would’ve been the occasional cow. But it seemed to have not even crossed his mind. Ghost’s were never the type to hide their cards when they had the opportunity to strike. They were always eager to bare their fangs (only sometimes metaphorically). After all, fighting is one of the most common pastimes in the Realms. For ghosts, power showed status, and status was respect and honor. Ghosts were always easier to understand than humans, and between the two, Danny found one much easier to trust than the other.

Being able to pass his weight onto Jason’s unbudging shoulders was a comfort Danny hadn’t experienced since he was little.

The city passed by in a beautiful blur and Danny kept his eyes peeled for the famous Kryptonian. He was disappointed but not surprised to not see Big Blue before the cement ceiling of the parking deck obscured the sky. Storing both their helmets away, Danny followed behind Jason into a fancy lobby in a building too tall for Danny to see the title of.

“Hello,” the attendant greeted when they approached them with a professional smile, “What can I help you with?”

“We have an appointment with Clark Kent.” Jason told the attendant. Danny took in the magnificent stairway that led into the offices, and the array of people in fine suits. Jason looked at the elevator just as it dinged open.

“Looks like Mr. Kent is ready for you,” The attendant said with a small laugh, looking as a large man approached them from the elevator. When the man finally met them at the desk, the attendant returned to her work with just small pleasantries.

“Jason!” The man greeted cheerfully, going in for a warm hug.

“Hey, Clark.” Jason managed in the crushing grip.

Mr. Kent turned to Danny, releasing Jason. “You must be Danny. Bruce has already told me a lot about you.” He stuck out a hand to shake. “I’m Clark Kent.” His bright and genuine demure was a stark contrast to the cloud of death that hovered around him. Danny didn’t remember ever seeing one as heavy and dark as the one attached to this man.

“He spoke pretty highly of you too. Nice to meet you, Mr. Kent.” Danny hoped he hadn’t stared too long, trying to smooth over the interaction with a nice hand shake. Danny eyed the man more closely. There was something… different about him. Danny could feel Mr. Kent control his strength as he shook hands with him. Danny had a feeling this man was not entirely human. Not ghostly, or of the Realms. Maybe an alien.

“Please, Clark, is just fine.” He said distractedly, his eyebrows scrunched as he watched Danny carefully. “Are you feeling alright, Danny?” Concern was heavy in his voice. Jason’s head swiveled at Danny.

“Yeah?” Danny answered confused, “I guess I’m a little nervous.”

That wasn’t the answer Clark had wanted. “Danny, if you’re feeling unwell, we should go to the hospital.” He said seriously, hands coming out like he was readying to catch Danny. “We can reschedule the interview.”

“Danny?” Jason asked, stepping closer as well.

“I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Danny looked between the two men confused, nerves dancing in his stomach. “I feel fine.”

Clark glanced over at Jason with a meaningful look, Jason stared back in all the confusion Danny was feeling. “Let’s head to my office.” He said pointedly.

“Okay?” Danny nodded, sticking closer to Jason as they headed into the elevator.

“You sure nothing’s up?” Jason asked quietly, leaning in to whisper in Danny’s ear.

“Yes.” He hissed back, “Are you sure this guy’s not completely,” Danny made a coo-coo sign. Clark stiffened at the comment, like he was forcing himself not to react. The elevator was quite large, with Clark standing almost at the other end of Jason and Danny. Danny had spoken too quietly for Jason to have been able to hear what he said if he hadn’t had his ear right next to Danny. But somehow Clark had heard him.

Danny remembered the doctor visit with Bruce a few days ago. His lower than average heart rate, attributed to his “meta abilities” by Dr. Tompkins. Danny glanced over at the man nervously fidgeting next to him. Did Clark have super hearing? The elevator dung as it went another floor up. Danny weighed his options.

Danny stopped his heart, in his human form he could do it for only minutes at a time before his body started feeling the effects. Clark’s head snapped in his direction “Danny!”

Jason only responded seconds later, “What?” He asked, alarmed, looking the boy up and down for any signs of… signs.

Danny let his heart return to its usual pace. “You have super hearing.” He concluded.

Clark spluttered unconvincingly, “What, no I don’t.” He laughed nervously, about to turn the conversation back to Danny.

Danny decided to clear the air before the elevator exposed them to the public, “I’m a meta.” He said, showing the ice crystallizing over his outstretched hand, “Lowered heart rate kinda comes with the territory.” He shrugged. Super strength. Super Hearing. Alien. Metropolis. Close trusted friend of Bruce aka Batman. Looks like Danny got to meet Superman after all. The elevator doors swung open.

Jason laughed in both relief and annoyance, “Seriously? Didn’t Bruce tell you about that?”

“About the,” he lowered his voice a very conspicuous whisper, “powers” before looking around obviously and trying to act casual for the rest of the conversation, “but not about the” again to a whisper, “heart rate.”

Jason blinked at Clark’s attempt at subtlety, “Sorry about the scare, big guy.” Danny tried not to laugh when Jason patted Clark on the arm consolingly, as they finally made it to a room marked KENT on the outside.

Clark took a moment to collect himself in the chair behind the desk. His brows scrunched in confusion as he turned to Danny again. Crap, having ice powers and stopping your heart didn’t exactly go hand in hand. How was Danny going to sell this? “Bruce spoke highly of me?” Clark asked, voice touched.

Danny blinked at him, “Uh, yeah?” Confused why that was being brought up again. Jason snorted a laugh next to him. “He said he really trusted you and that you were one of his close friends.” Danny added after a moment.

“He said I was his close friend.” Clark said to himself, like he had won the lottery. A knock at the door interrupted them. “Come in.”

“Hey Clark.” A short, fierce looking woman entered. “Hello boys.” She smiled at Danny and Jason easily.

“Hey, Lois.”

“Hi, Lois.” Clark smiled. Lois Lane. Wes’s inspiration, idol, and celebrity crush all wrapped into a neat package of a pressed pastel pink suit and black stilettos. Had Danny read every single one of her articles to be published? Yes. Had he sat through lengthy explanations on why she was the best journalist to walk this earth? Yes. Was it voluntary? No. It was not.

The mythological woman turned to Dannywith a smile. Wes was so going to lose his mind. “You must be Danny.” She reached out her hand to shake. “I’m Lois Lane.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Lane. I’ve heard a lot about your work.” He said honestly. “My friend’s a huge fan of yours.”

Ms. Lane smiled flattered, “Your friend has great taste.” She laughed, “And please, Lois is just fine. I do hope Clark isn’t making you too nervous.”

Jason spoke up this time “We were just doing some icebreakers.”

Clark chuckled at that, “Because-” He cut himself off, turning to Lois almost robotically, “for no particular reason.” His voice was completely devoid of its earlier humor.

Danny looked over to Jason, both cringing in second hand embarrassment. Lois, to her credit, had no reaction to Clark’s attempt of subtlety. “Well, Danny you have a pretty high-profile interview lined up today. Have you ever done an interview before?”

“Um, I’ve done a job interview.” Danny tried.

Lois gave him an encouraging smile, “It’s not too different from that. I’m sure you’ve seen other celebrity interviews, it’ll be like that.”

“Try not to be too nervous. We’ll try to make it as comfortable as possible.” Clark assured, filtering through a file. “Are you comfortable in front of a camera?”

“Yeah.” Danny nodded easily, the memories of 12-year-old Jazz forcing Danny to make “vlogs” with her resurfacing.

“Okay that's great.” Clark smiled, more professionally now.

Lois took her turn to speak, “Bruce told us about your Meta abilities. Are you comfortable being public about it or would you like to keep it a secret?”

“Um,” Danny considered his options. He had only spent a week in the Manor, which was a week since the dinner his ‘meta powers’ were exposed. At first Danny had been terrified of the possible repercussions, but everyone had been surprisingly nonchalant about it. Except for Duke, he was very chalant. It was refreshing to be able to use his powers with little thought, even if it was only a sliver of them. Danny owed it to Duke, and every other meta for that matter, “I don’t mind people knowing.” He decided.

Clark nodded, “Here’s all the questions we’ve prepared. If there's any you aren’t comfortable answering, you can mark them off or edit them to how you see fit.” He slid Danny a small packet. Jason busied himself on his phone, while Danny read through all the questions.

---

“In 3, 2, 1…” The light signaling they were recording lit red.

“Hello, welcome to the Daily Planet. I’m reporter Clark Kent here with Lois Lane.” Lois and Clark were sitting on two chairs next to each other on the set, a cityscape backdrop behind them. Danny sat on a third chair, currently out of frame. He’d changed into the suit Bruce had sent over earlier, and fiddled with the cuffs nervously, periodically glancing over to Jason behind the camera.

“Thank you, Clark.” Lois started gracefully, “About a month ago, there was a startling discovery of Dr. Kilye’s illegal and unsanctioned research conducted on non-consenting families. Dr. Kilye was a renowned gynecologist, when his research was discovered by Gotham’s Nightwing and Batman. The doctor, employed at West Gotham General Hospital for all 26 years of his so-called experimentation as one of the lead obstetricians, was guilty of swapping 568 babies under his care.

“Due to his esteemed reputation, many of Dr. Kilye’s patients were high profile. One such patient was Clarissa King, former wife of Bruce Wayne. 16 years ago today, they sorrowfully announced to the public the loss of their long-awaited child and subsequently the annulment of their marriage. Ms. King has not made any public appearances since the marriage was broken off. During the investigation of Dr. Kilye’s victims, one was found to be the child they had supposedly lost 16 years ago.

“As I’m sure all our viewers are aware of the title of this video, this is an interview.” Danny took a breath as the Camera panned to invite him into the frame. “Today we have with us Daniel Wayne, formerly thought to be the son of Drs. Madaline and Jack Fenton.” Lois turned away from the camera she had been speaking to, as she and Clark faced Danny.

Jason gave Danny an encouraging thumbs up from across the room as Clark took his cue to enter Danny into the conversation. “Well Mr. Wayne, it’s a pleasure to have you on with us today.”

“Pleasure to be here.” Danny smiled at him, sitting pristinely in his chair. The teen had said he was okay with the camera, but his ability to conduct himself so professionally at such a young age still impressed Clark. “Danny’s fine. Mr. Wayne’s kinda weird.” He joked lightly. Clark noticed the stiffness in his jaw as he spoke.

“Of course, I’m sure it’ll take some getting used to.” Clark tried to ease, “I can’t help but ask, how does it feel to find out that you're the son of one of the richest men in America.”

Danny laughed politely at Clark’s description, “Well it definitely wasn’t on my bucket list that’s for sure.” Lois offered him a smile at that, “Um, honestly the whole experience was bizarre. I don’t think I’ve still totally wrapped my head around it. Growing up, I’d say we were somewhere in the middle to upper middle class. We were pretty well off, but compared to that, everything here is just so,” Danny paused to find the word, “grand. It’s very grand.”

“There's a lot that comes with the territory, I’m sure.” Lois nodded, taking a quick glance at her cue card. “Wayne is an elusive name, and a lot of the public will want to get to know you.” Danny nodded. “So let’s kick off the interview portion, if you're ready.”

“As I’ll ever be.” Danny’s smile was more of a grimace. Clark tried to give him a comforting look.

“We’ll start off with the basics.” Clark smiled, “How old are you?”

“16.”

“And your birthday?”

“February 12th.” Danny seemed to get more comfortable as the questions continued.

“Favorite food?” Lois asked,

“Anything that’s not toast, and edible.” Clark blinked at that response. Maybe it was some strange teenager lingo, Konner was always using strange terms and phrases.

Lois, ever the professional, was undeterred by the answer, “You said you grew up mostly middle to upper middle class, can you tell us more about what it was like growing up?”

“Well my parents,” Clark wondered if Danny’s hesitation at that word was because of nerves or something else, “were usually pretty busy with their research and stuff, so growing up they put me and my sister in a lot of extracurriculars. But other than that,” Danny shrugged lightly, “I just hung out with my friends and went to school, I guess. There's not exactly a lot to do in middle-of-nowhere Illinois.” Clark had grown familiar with Danny’s heart rate during their pre-interview process, but the slight irregularity in the heart rate told Clark he was lying. Or hiding something. Clark let it slide, it probably wasn’t anything criminalizing, just regular teenager activity. Whatever that was.

Looking at his cue card, Clark saw the question, What kind of research did your parents do? Marked out in large DO NOT ASK one of the few ones that Danny had marked off. Clark figured it was fair enough, Danny might not have been too involved in it to know exactly what his parents did. Most of Bruce’s kids knew nothing about his day job, despite their tenacious need to be over-informed on any matter. “What extracurriculars did you do?” Clark asked instead, “Or what were your favorites?” He amended.

“I mostly did a lot of sports, my sister did artsy stuff like piano and violin and stuff. She would always try to drag me into them with her. Piano wasn’t too bad, I guess.” Danny said offhandedly, before a genuine smile crept onto his face, “My favorite was definitely hockey. I like soccer too, it’s more accessible, since all you really need is just the ball as opposed to ice and skates and all that stuff. I’ve tried a bunch of sports, but those are definitely my favorites.”

“Did you play competitively?” Lois asked, easily noticing Danny’s passion for the sports.

“I used to.” Danny’s smile faltered, “I had to take a break for a while ‘cause of health reasons.” The excitement from before returned twofold, “But I went to the Doc the other day, with Bruce. I’m all clear to play now.” He huffed proudly at the last part. Danny was quite charming, Clark could already tell the public would take to him nicely.

“We can’t wait to see you on the ice.” Clark smiled, Danny’s excitement rubbing off on him.

“Speaking of ice,” Lois started delicately, “I’ve been told you're a meta.”

”That’s right.” Danny nodded. His excitement had melted away, but he was more comfortable in his seat than when they had first started. Danny’s shoulders were relaxed and his chin was forward in silent confidence. To be public about his meta status was a huge step for Danny to take, especially as someone not used to the pandering reporters he was bound to face. The Meta Human Rights Act had were passed almost 11 years ago, but there was still a stigma surrounding it, ironically those who used their powers publicly to help were idolized, while those who kept to themselves were vilified and thought less of. The law stepped in when it could, but most of the behavior against Metas were still not taken seriously, trafficking rings running rampant in almost every major city.

“If you're comfortable, can you show us some of your abilities?” Lois asked, going off script as she often did.

“Sure,” Danny said, taking a moment to think before a boyish grin broke his air of professionalism, “Okay, there's this one I’ve been practicing. It’s a pretty cool party trick.”

Clark, Lois and the set crew watched Danny in anticipation. He took in a careful breath, holding it for a few seconds, before turning towards the camera. A puff of chilled air left him and a delicate snowflake danced in the air, large enough that its detailed intricacies were easily caught by all the onlookers. The looks and whispers of awe echoed through the room, embarrassing their performer.

“That was amazing,” Clark said honestly. Not able to stop himself from leaning forward to touch the ice crystal as it drifted towards the floor. It vanished after Clark let go. “I’m curious, is there a reason that you decided to be so publicly open about your meta status?” Clark prompted.

Danny considered his words carefully before speaking, “I feel like most people, when they find out a person is a meta, expect them to, y’know, do something amazing. The Justice League, the Young Justice League, the Teen Titans, and y’know all the other hero teams, are full of metas, and I think a lot of people feel pressured to do more than their peers because of their meta-ness. Which is, honestly, unfair. Meta or not, a person is just a person, and they shouldn’t be pushed into a role that they might not fit. It takes a lot to be a hero, and I think it’s okay for not everyone to be one. And that’s who I am. Just a regular guy that happens to be a meta.” He paused, “Well I was regular.” Danny laughed lightly before continuing. “And although there are a lot of metas that are heroes, not every hero is a meta, and not every meta has to be a hero. Batman, Robin, and all their friends, they don’t need powers to help.” He concluded. Clark heard Jason give a small offended huff at being grouped in with ‘all their friends’.

“That’s quite contradictory,” Lois commented, “I suspect you might have become a hero just by not being one.” Danny rubbed his neck in embarrassment.

“That’s a very eloquent response,” Clark praised. “I’m sure our viewers are curious as well, you’ve mentioned you enjoy hockey. Does that in any way tie in to your affinity for ice?”

“Well, I only found out I was a meta when I was around 13, which, uh,” Danny hesitated, “Was when I couldn’t really play.” At Danny’s reaction, Clark decided he wouldn’t pursue the topic any longer. “I played a bit with my old teammates back in Amity when the lake would freeze over. Honestly, the only actual difference is that I don’t get cold as easily.” Danny tried to go for a casual laugh.

“A bit off topic,” Lois picked up on Danny’s uncomfortableness with the topic as well, “What made you decide to move in with Bruce?”

“Honestly, it just kinda worked out that way. My parents' boss was having them move out of the country for work, which coincidentally was the same time I found out about Bruce. And well, Gotham’s a lot closer to home than the Caribbean.” Danny said easily, happy to leave the topic behind. Danny was clearly unwelcoming to the discussion of how his powers activated. Which was not necessarily concerning on its own, but compiled with the aforementioned health problems led to some unsavory conclusions. Clark would have to discuss it with Bruce later.

“You’ve mentioned that you enjoyed sports, but are there any academic subjects that interest you?”

“Honestly, school’s always been kinda boring to me. I guess if I had to pick astronomy, and maybe physics.”

“Astronomy, like the study of space?” Danny nodded in confirmation, “Then I suppose you would know a lot about the planets, do you have a favorite?”

“A favorite?” Danny repeated surprised, “Um,” He said thoughtfully, before looking up directly into Clark’s eyes. The look wasn’t intense, and Clark couldn’t sense any hidden meaning behind the look. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Danny was seeing a lot more than he was letting on. Like his bluish-gray eyes were a vortex sucking in all the tells Clark himself wasn’t aware of. Like a bucket of ice had been poured on him, Clark remembered that the boy across from him was not just Brucie Wayne’s son, but he was also the son of the Batman, the World’s Greatest Detective and the grandson of the Demon’s Head, Ra's Al-Ghul, and the son of his heir Talia Al-Ghul. “Maybe, Pluto.” Danny answered after having divulged all of Clark’s secrets from under him.

“Pluto’s not a planet.” Lois remarked, shuffling to the last card without looking at the deck.

Danny gave an affronted gasp, “Pluto is too a planet.” He insisted, indignantly.

Lois laughed lightly at the behavior, and let it slide. “I believe we’re at the last question of the day.” She announced, glancing at her cue card. Instead of asking the question written on there, she did a double take, brows scrunching in confusion. Clark leaned over to get a look at the card.

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked, confused.

“Konner must have gotten a hold of these.” She chastised the boy even though he wasn’t present, “ Someone left the interview questions on the dining table. Again.” Lois gave Clark a sharp look.

Clark looked away with a grimace. Jason laughed quietly in the background. “How bad could it be?”

“I don’t even know what this means.” She mumbled, holding the card up to read. “Do you…” She squinted, “ Mew ?”

Danny blinked at her, processing the statement before laughter burst out of him.

---

Danny was exhausted by the time he and Jason walked back to the bike. The night had set in around them, but the city was just as busy as it had been when they arrived. “Wanna go grab a bite?” Jason asked, passing Danny his helmet. Fortunately, Clark had said he would send the suit back later, and Danny was free to wear his much more comfortable clothes.

“Yeah,” Danny sighed, “I’m starving.”

“I know a burger place not too far from here.”

There was a comfortable hum of conversation in the clean diner Jason had brought them to. Well, it was cleaner than the Nasty Burger, which, in retrospect, was a pretty low bar. In the booth they shared, there was a tray of five warm burgers, and an order of fries and a drink each between Danny and Jason.

“So how do you think it went?” Jason prompted a burger into his meal.

“Not bad,” Danny shrugged, “It was a lot more casual than I thought it would be.” Danny flopped a fry into his sauce repeatedly without taking a bite.

Jason sipped at his soda, “Something’s still bothering you, though.” Danny looked up from the tray of fries to face Jason. The attentiveness in the way Jason looked at him expectantly but without pressure was still an unfamiliar feeling to Danny. Danny had made sure that he answered the question with an uncaring casualness so that the knot of nerves in his gut stayed hidden. Was Danny easy to read or was Jason actually, genuinely, paying attention to him. Before Danny had the chance to figure out what exactly was wrong, or why the ball of nerves in his stomach still hadn’t untangled, Jason spoke. “Y’know if there is one thing any of us have learned, it’s to not give a sh*t about what the internet thinks. Anything, anyone who’s ever been in the same room as Bruce always gets analyzed and scrutinized just cause those little asses like to pretend they know all about what’s going down. They don’t. And you don’t need to act like they do.” Jason looked Danny in the eye, “You got that?”

Danny stared at Jason. How had he known what to say before Danny even knew what he wanted to hear? The silence stretched for a while, “Yeah,” He croaked, “Thanks.” Jason shoved Danny’s shin with the hard toe of his boot under the table. Danny huffed and threw a fry at his face in retaliation.

Jason cursed Danny lightly under his breath as he wiped the oil off his forehead. The action ruffled the white tuft of hair that lined his soft widow's peak. Danny knew very well what that white hair meant. But he remembered his earlier suspicion that Jason might not entirely know. It was actually quite common for ghosts to not know they had died, and when you weren’t dead all the time, it wasn’t exactly the easiest conclusion. Danny internally debated whether or not he should ask. “Spit it out, kid.” Jason said lightly munching on a fry.

“I was just-” Danny was unsure how to broach the topic, “I mean your hair, how come there's just a chunk of it that white?” Topics related to death were always sensitive for the dead, and many refused to ever talk about it. Most took it in great offense.

Jason seemed surprised by the question, hand going to fiddle with the colorless strands. “Dunno, it just turned white one day.” He shrugged. Danny tried to read if Jason was telling the truth or if he just didn’t want to tell Danny. “I tried to dye it back, but the color never sticks to it.”

“I had a friend back in Amity whose hair was like that too.” Danny nodded at Jason’s explanation, hoping his little lie would be believable. Jason hummed as he spoke. “Well- He wasn’t exactly alive though.”

“What?” Jason said disbelievingly. So he really didn’t know.

“I mean my parents were ghost researchers, I was bound to meet some.” Danny shrugged, lightly.

“And you were friends with them.” Jason enunciated every sound as if to chastise Danny.

Danny peered at him, “Just ‘cause they're dead, doesn’t make them sub-human.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jason backtracked.

“Anyway, my point. One of my friends used to have black hair like yours when he was, y’know, alive, but it turned white after he died. And well, you did kinda publicly die, so I just figured…” Danny trailed off in favor of taking another bite of his burger.

Jason considered his words, “Your friend got a name?”

“Phantom.” Danny made sure his voice was even. “Why?”

“How’d you know what he looked like before he died?” Jason asked instead, the look in his eyes told Danny he already had an answer.

Danny raised a brow instead of answering, not wanting to contradict whatever conclusion Jason had come up with, “That’s not the point. We’re talking about you.” Danny pointed a limp fry at him, sauce dripping onto the table.

“I’m talking about you.” Jason countered easily. The feeling from earlier returned, but Danny shoved it away. There was an obvious concern in his eyes as Jason leaned in, as if to be closer to him, “Danny,” Jason started easily, “Did you… Were you there when your friend died?”

Danny blinked, not expecting that question. Danny wasn’t sure why he answered honestly, “I guess so,” He shrugged. He didn’t want Jason to know he was talking about his alter ego just yet.

“sh*t, Danny.” Jason leaned back in his chair, forearms resting on the rim of the table. Danny couldn’t decipher what the emotion Jason’s whole body seemed to express was. But a solemn air hung over him, Danny wondered how exactly Jason had been interpreting this conversation. “I mean I guess I did die,” Jason finally answered Danny’s original question, “But only by technicality.”

“Technicality?” Danny questioned disbelievingly, “You had a whole funeral and everything.”

“The technicality” Jason said snidely, “being that I’m not dead anymore.” Danny knew there had to be more to the story, but he decided not to push the matter. He was surprised when Jason spoke up after the chattering group of teenagers a few tables down left. “I was dead for six months.” Jason whispered, lowly. Danny almost missed it, “I’m not really sure how it happened, if I’m being honest. I died, and next thing I know I’m digging myself out of my grave, like something out of a zombie flick, and I’m completely out of my mind. Someone,” Jason hesitated like he was debating adding a certain detail, “Someone found me, one of Batman’s rogues,” Danny made sure not to react to that, “and they dunked me in this murky green water thing and I guess I was a little more alive after that.” Green water thing that made him a little more alive sounded suspiciously like ectoplasm. Though, the murky part was a bit concerning. Problem for future Danny.

Jason looked away from Danny after the short explanation, busying himself with slurping the remains of his drink. “That’s kinda what happened to my friend too.” Danny nodded comfortingly, cleaning up his side of the table. “Except, the six months part. I’m not really sure how long he was dead for, but it definitely wasn't six months.”

“I guess I’m just an overachiever.” Jason huffed, shoulders relaxing when Danny didn’t prod for more information. Danny rolled his eyes as they walked to the door, maybe Phantom ought to pay Jason a visit soon. “Danny.” Jason called lightly as the night breeze chilled the air, turning to look at him outside the glass doors of the diner. “Bruce,” he sighed, picking his words carefully, “He has this thing about not telling people things until the last possible moment.” Danny blinked at him, “It’s his way of trying to protect you.” Jason said, obviously in disagreement with the concept. He didn’t elaborate, and Danny got a sense that he wasn’t supposed to ask more.

Danny wasn’t sure what Jason was talking about, but he nodded at the information anyway. “Okay?” Confusion was obvious in his tone, but Jason didn’t elaborate. They walked in pace to where Jason left the bike, when Danny took the chance and grabbed the driver’s seat before Jason could. “I’ll drive,” He declared.

“No way kid.” Jason denied instantly, grabbing the handle of the bike. “Do you even know how to drive this thing?”

“Yes.” Danny crossed his arms indignantly, “Johnny taught me.”

“Who’s Johnny?” Jason raised a brow, their heights even since Danny was sitting on the bike while Jason stood on the ground.

“A friend of mine.”

“You have a lot of friends.”

Danny laughed, “What can I say?”

“Wait.” Jason looked at him, “This Johnny guy, is he a ghost too?”

“Yeah.” Danny nodded, confused why Jason sounded so scandalized.

“You learned how to ride from a dead guy?”

“Okay, if you put it like that-”

“What other way is there to put it?” Jason threw his hands in the air.

“Y’know,” Danny drawled, remembering a conversation Tucker's parents had with them once, “I’m probably going to do this anyway, so would you rather be there when I do or not?” He gave Jason a challenging look.

Jason looked at him appalled, “You’re definitely Bruce’s kid.” He conceded with a huff, pulling his helmet on. After a thorough 45 minute lesson on what every single button did, and every standard safety maneuver, Jason hesitantly crawled onto the back of the bike. Unfortunately, Danny only lasted 15 minutes before Jason forced him to pull over because, apparently, it was too obvious that he learned from a guy who wasn’t worried about dying a second time.

Whatever that meant.

---

Twitter

Daily Planet: Check out our latest video interview with a surprise guest! [link]

[5 minutes later]

Wes: 3 missed calls

Wes: Danny

Wes: Daniel.

Wes: NO f*ckING WAY IM FINDING OUT LIKE THIS

Wes: LOIS LANE????

Wes: U WERE INTERVIEWED BY THE LOIS LANE

Wes: AND THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT

Wes: f*ck u

/ur main man/

Wes: [tweet link: Daily Planet: Check out our latest video interview with a surprise guest! [link] ]

Wes: @danny

[15 minutes later]

/ur main man/

Tucker: DUDEE

Val: U TOLD THEM UR A METAAA???

Sam: wtf danny

Wes: I mean it's passable. No one’s gonna question that, especially after that snowflake thing

Tucker: That snowflake was dope af

Val: NO IT WASN’T

Tucker: but that was still a risky move

Danny: (typing…)

Chapter 18: jason gets The Talk

Chapter Text

Red Hood was having a regular patrol. About as regular as it got in the darker hours of Crime Alley. Muggings, robberies, human laundering, murder. Nothing out of the ordinary. Seemed like his one day off wouldn’t uproot his position as the Crime Lord of Crime Alley. Who knew? He had his men stationed around the area to intervene if they could, or alert him of any matter that may need to be taken care of. Compared to the other nights, things were going incredibly smoothly. Minimal deaths and minimal damages. Allowing himself to just be a shadow on the rooftops, Red Hood surveyed the area.

Despite the relatively easy night, something made his chest churn, and the hair on his neck stood on edge. A sense of danger and foreboding drenched the air around Red Hood. Drifting through each channel of his comm to check for any disturbances, he was surprised to find everything in his area clear. The feeling in the air seemed to thicken by the second. Even the night wind seemed to stop in its tracks at the unknown danger.

The feeling, or the source it was coming from, seem conflicted. It told him to run away, that he was no match for whoever- whatever was approaching. His feet felt ironbound to the floor he stood on. At the same time, he felt a need to approach, to gauge and welcome him. Him? Red Hood, never one to back away from a fight or from curiosity, made his way to the source. How did he know where to find the source? There was a strange magnetic pull that seemed to serve as an internal GPS for Red Hood to find him. Who was ‘him’?

Nearly into the Borrows, Red Hood deserted the rooftops and dropped down hard onto the cement floor. Letting his loud descent announce his presence, he followed the pull as it got stronger like a magnet. All the while the strange feeling of reverence piled into an entirely different feeling of fear. Something seemed to supply him with the unquestionable knowledge that this person, whoever he was, was powerful. Immeasurably so. Forcing one foot in front of another, not sure what he was heading towards, Red Hood turned the street corner.

Hovering right above the ground was- Red Hood wasn’t sure what he was. There was a faint whisper in the back of his mind, be it was stuffed away far in the crevices hidden beneath the pit rage. The thing- the whisper tried to tell him what it was- had white hair that drifted around his head, the faintest hint of a glowing ring surrounding it was overshadowed by the literal green glow the creature seemed to give off. The eyes that bore through Red Hood’s helmet were large and green. It reminded Jason of the Lazarus Pit, in its toxic glow, but he registered that the green was different. Purer. On his forehead there was a crystal, like shards that seemed to perturbed from his pale ghostly skin; smaller crystals that were near his brow line gathered together to form a cusp that held back his hair. The blue hue of the crystals almost made it seem like it was an unmelting formation of ice. The creature- the whisper was louder, but Jason still couldn’t decipher what it was trying to tell him- was wearing a black and white suit, with a P stylized on his chest.

The creature was already looking in Red Hood’s direction before he turned into the street, but his head tilted to the side as if he hadn’t been expecting him. The strange feeling in Jason’s chest twisted in apprehension. The buildings and structures around them faded from Jason’s mind and all he could focus on was the creature. Colors warped around him, green tilted in his vision. Jason tried to fight it, but it was different from the Pit Madness he was used to, and he wasn’t sure he could control it. It gripped at his mind, the green protruding into it like spores.

The creature almost seemed to blurt out, “Jason?” And the green vanished, the colors of his surrounding were their familiar grays and darks. His heart beat in his chest. An immediate sense of relief flooded through him, the nerves from before evaporating. Jason couldn’t help but think the voice sounded familiar. He would’ve entertained the thought more if the whisper hadn’t gotten louder. He could almost hear it now.

Phantom .

The creature drifted closer to him with more ease than Aquaman swam in his underwater castle. He studied Jason appraisingly, or rather the area around him. Trying to gather his bearings, Red Hood squared his shoulder, “Who are you?” It was supposed to be a demand for ( Phantom ) the entity that had figured out his secret identity on sight. Without the voice modulator, he would’ve sounded more like a mystified child.

The being seemed to remember himself at the question. The quiet distant whisper turned into an incessant buzzing. The creature drifted a reasonable distance away, still at arm’s length but no longer in Jason’s breathing space. Normally the invasion of personal space would have earned the trespasser at least a punch to the gut, but for some reason Jason didn’t seem to mind the intrusion. “Sorry,” The creature chuckled apologetically. The buzzing went silent at his voice. “I’m Phantom.” Phantom . Wherever the whispers were coming from, preened at the name. “Danny told me that I should talk to you. Y’know ghost to…” He looked at Jason questioningly. Jason not Red hood. “Kinda ghost?”

“You’re a ghost?” Jason asked curiously, Red Hood persona long forgotten. Phantom hovered around him, trying to gauge something Jason couldn’t understand.

“Yup.” He said absentmindedly, “Hey, what’s all this?” Phantom gestured around him.

Jason should’ve bluffed and pretended that he knows to try and get more information out of this alleged ghost. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think.

That only seemed to confuse Phantom even more. Carefully he reached a single gloved hand out, Jason stood still as it made a clear trajectory to his shoulder. The next moments blurred into a flurry of greens, purples and blues that weren’t there, his mind racing to keep up. He had pushed the pits away, how had it managed to take hold of him so quickly? He needed to fight it off before he did something unspeakable again.

Fight it off Jason. His vision blurred again, taking his consciousness with it. Phantom said something. Jason tried to hear what his words were, but the green was blinding, overshadowing the purples and blues from before. If Jason had the time to notice it, he might’ve been surprised by the lack of aggression and pure anger that usually accompanied the green. He tried to grasp for his consciousness, but it slipped away like a squirming fish.

When Jason opened his eyes he was accosted by an all-too-familiar brown that had once been white. He blinked, and rubbed his face absentmindedly, hand dragging across his clammy forehead and cheek. Forehead and cheek? Where had his helmet gone? He was on patrol. Then he met Phantom. But how come he was in his apartment lying on his sofa helmet-less? Why was he sweaty?

Jason pushed himself up. Despite all the confusion and burning questions, he didn’t feel alarmed. Jason was no stranger to keeping a level head under stressful circ*mstances. But whatever his head was doing, it had forgone level. Jason tried to gather his thoughts, and the vision of green rushed to his memory like a dog to a stick.

He was calm. The sort of calm that made him feel lethargic, like right after a stressful mission. The kind of calm that Bats never felt, because there was always something. The next case, the next bust, the next Arkham breakout. But even that didn’t seem to break the even stream of nothing in Jason’s brain. The effect seemed to travel through his whole body. Jason, for the first time since he had dug himself out of his own grave, felt well rested. Relaxed even.

There was an air about the apartment that seemed to reflect Jason’s internal mood. It reminded him of his birthdays in the Manor, back when he still had birthdays in the Manor. Alfred would make all his favorite food. Bruce would ask what he felt like doing today, and when Jason would say the most outrageous thing, Bruce would agree without question. Dick would grumble about being there, but he would always bring Jason a gift. But today wasn’t his birthday, and he wasn’t in the Manor. Jason didn't get birthdays in the Manor anymore.

It took Jason longer than it should’ve to realize there was someone in the kitchen. There was the light clinking of pots and pans, and the occasional running of water. Making his footsteps as light as possible, Jason approached the kitchen, turning around the wall that was blocking his view. Jason blinked in surprise at the sight before him. Phantom was there, busying himself with something on the stove, ingredients and spices floating around him like gravity was a recommendation. Glasses full of water hovered above the counter, not spilling, and empty bowls waited within hands reach of Phantom but not resting on any surface.

Maybe Jason should’ve been alarmed. There was an unknown in his house, making himself fully at home in his kitchen. Jason was still sweating like he had run a marathon, and his helmet had been removed. All without him knowing how or why. But every danger response he had learned in his life seemed to be on vacation. The air of ease and calmness made no moves of disappearing, and Jason couldn’t find it in himself to be wary of this strange ghost-creature.

He cleared his throat lightly, bringing attention to himself. “What are you doing?”

Phantom turned to him, pleasantly surprised to see him coming into the doorway. “You’re up.” He cheered lightly, floating closer to Jason. “Hm, looks like you still haven’t broken through your fever yet.” Fever?

“I don’t have a fever.” Jason denied, despite the clamminess and sweat slipping down his forehead.

Phantom gave him an unimpressed look, “I made some food, it should help you recover faster.” He floated back to the pan, scraping the substance into the bowl. The glass of water floated behind him to the dining table as Jason could only watch the sight. Setting the bowl down, Phantom turned to Jason, his own words interrupted by a clarifying blink, “You, uh, don’t mind that I used your stuff, right?”

“Kinda late to be asking that, don't you think?” Jason laughed lightly, surprised by his own leniency.

“Sorry.” Phantom apologized shyly, “Uh, you should eat though.”

Jason approached the food carefully. “What is it?”

“Veggie soup. It’s a little unconventional, but I did what I could from your ingredients.” A piece of broccoli bounced in the buoyancy of the soup, accompanied by evenly sized carrot slices, and cabbage that Jason didn’t remember buying. There was a faint green tinge to the soup, probably from the assortment of greens in it.

“How long was I out?” Jason looked up at the floating ghost. This wasn’t exactly something you could whip up in a few minutes.

“About two hours.” He said drifting closer to the floor. “You passed out in the street and I brought you back to your apartment. No one saw you though, I made us invisible.”

Two whole hours? “You took my helmet off.” Jason sat at the table, still watching the ghost.

“I mean, it looked kind of uncomfortable.” Phantom shrugged, “Besides, you already knew that I knew who you were.” He took the seat opposite to Jason.

Jason eyed him suspiciously, “How did you know that I was Red Hood?”

Phantom was about to answer without much fanfare, but he stopped himself. “I’ll only answer if you eat your soup.” He said pointedly.

“How do I know you didn’t poison this or something?” He mixed the soup around with his spoon. It was only the bat training that had been ingrained into his DNA that made him ask that. Jason wasn’t sure why he was so comfortable and trusting of Phantom. Sure Danny had mentioned him, and they were friends. But that shouldn’t be enough to make Jason trust him.

Phantom looked like he hadn’t been expecting that question and seemed unsure about how to answer. “I can take a bite of it first.” He offered.

Based on what Danny had said about Phantom, he had been human before he died. Even though he didn't look so human right now. How possible would it be that, if there was a substance in his soup, that it would affect him as a human and not Phantom as a ghost? If Phantom was already a ghost, what would he get out of killing Jason? But something in his chest made him believe Phantom, despite all rationality. Not wanting to seem like he was giving in too easily, he pushed the bowl towards the ghost.

Phantom took an easy spoonful of it, under Jason’s watchful gaze. Swallowing it, Phantom looked away thoughtfully. “I think it needs more salt.” He mumbled.

Jason took a small sip, surprised to find that it was actually quite tasty. There was an ingredient that Jason couldn’t recognize right away, but he knew he’d tasted it before. The warmth felt good against the inside of his throat, and warmed up his whole body. “Answer my question now.” He pointed a spoon at Phantom. “How did you know who I was? Or where I lived for that matter?”

“Oh, uh I asked Danny for your address earlier. I was gonna make my way over here to find you, but you found me first.” Jason wordlessly accepted the saltshaker from Phantom. “And about the identity thing. It was pretty obvious.” Jason bristled at that, but Phantom quickly followed up, “For ghosts.” He defended, “It’s easy for ghosts. Just cause everyone is pretty distinctive by their ecto-signature. Humans have one too, but it’s a little harder to notice it than it is for other ghosts.”

The explanation didn’t seem to explain anything away, “Ecto-signature?”

Phantom took a steadying huff of air that he probably didn’t need. “You really don’t know anything, huh?” He said to himself. He turned to Jason, his voice delicately broaching the topic, “Are you aware that you died?”

Jason coughed in surprise at the question, “What?” He choked. Gathering his bearings, “What kind of question is that?”

“Do you know if you have?” Phantom pressed urgently.

“Yeah?” He shrugged, if Phantom was already a ghost, no reason to hide this from him. “I was buried and everything.” He took a bite of the broccoli.

Phantom seemed to relax at the admission, “Ok, that makes things a lot easier.” He drifted into his seat. “So you’re like part ghost. Not exactly half, judging by the fact that you didn’t know that I was a ghost. Which means your core is still pretty underdeveloped. But still, like, kinda ghostly.”

Jason ogled at him, “I’m” he gestured to himself, “part ghost?” Phantom nodded earnestly. “Wow.” He laughed sardonically, “And here I was thinking I was a zombie.”

“Oh no, zombies are completely different.” Phantom explained earnestly, “The media interpretation kinda does them dirty, but honestly their ghosts aren’t all that accurate either.”

“You’ve-” Jason stared at him,” You’ve met zombies?”

“Zombies, ghosts, apparitions, spirits, vampires, mermaids. I could go on, but I think you got the idea.” Phantom looked at Jason’s almost empty bowl of soup. “Do you feel any better now?”

Deciding he didn’t want to talk about the supernatural more than he had to, Jason introspected on his alleged fever. “I’m not sweating as much.” He started, “And my head feels clearer.” Clearer than he remembered it feeling in a long time.

“Ok, I was worried the dosage was too small since, by the looks of it, you’ve had it for a while now.” Phantom nodded to himself.

“Dosage?” Jason asked, alarmed, “Of what?”

“Of ectoplasm.”

“f*cking what?” Did Jason just consume a whole bowl of some random medicine? Was he drugged?

“Oh, crap. I forgot to tell you about that.” Phantom tried to start placatingly, “Okay so ectoplasm, is, uh. It’s basically what ghosts are made out of. Wait- I never explained that either. Okay, okay. Ghosts are beings that have died surrounded by a lot of emotion, usually their own, but it can be someone else's too. Ring a bell?” Well, being tortured by your mentor's arch nemesis might make a lot of emotions. Jason was definitely feeling a lot of emotion when he came out of his grave. “Sometimes, but not all the time, death is unnatural and maybe even a little brutal. If not that it can be that there was something left unfinished.”

“I think I recall.” Jason huffed, “What does this have to do with you drugging my soup?”

“Right so, the emotion that a, uh, freshly dead person emits, turns into ectoplasm. It’s like concentrated emotion, and if there's enough of it, then the ectoplasm helps create a core to make a ghost. If there's not enough, then the ghost won’t form. Most often, but not always, ghosts require some time post-death to find enough ectoplasm to sustain themselves for the rest of their death.” Phantom paused to see if Jason was following along, “Ghost-formation-ectoplasm is different from the ectoplasm found in nature. Environmental-ectoplasm usually isn’t strong enough to sustain core development, but it helps create a healthy ghost.”

“Core?”

“Oh right, sorry. So ghost-formation-ectoplasm has to make the core. Since ghosts don’t have conventional organs, it serves as the heart, brain, and soul of the ghost. As you can imagine, it’s pretty important, and is heavily influenced by the emotions at death. Each ghost has a distinctly different core, which is where ecto-signatures come from.”

Jason filtered through the information, trying to understand. “So you think I’m a ghost.” Jason knew better than to take any one source of information without cross checking it with something else. Whatever inside of him that was causing his irrational trust of Phantom, and the unusual calmness at the whole situation, including being drugged, seemed to drink up the information like it made everything click together.

“Part-ghost.” Phantom corrected, “They’re not common, but there are a few. I think in your case the most accurate term would be liminal. You’ve visited both sides of the veil, but you’re still pretty firmly living.”

“How do I know you’re not just making this all up?”

“Well,” Phantom rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “The soup would’ve killed you if you weren’t already at least a little dead.” Jason’s jaw dropped at the admission, but Phantom continued before he could say anything, “But I already knew you were, y’know, liminal. So the chances of you dying were very slim. I even made the dosage of ectoplasm really low, in case you couldn’t take it.” He defended. “Besides, whatever that creepy thing haunting you was couldn’t have stayed so long on a human without killing them.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Jason screamed.

“Yes?”

Jason took a calming breath. He thought back to the conversation he had with Danny at the diner in Metropolis. Danny had admitted that he had been friends with Phantom before he died, and after too. By the sound of it, they were pretty close, so it wasn’t a wild assumption that Danny had told Phantom about him. Phantom had said earlier that Danny had given him Jason’s address as well as sending him to talk to Jason about his apparent liminal-ness. “Your friends with Danny, right? He was the one that told you to come here.”

Phantom seemed surprised by the change of topic, but nodded in confirmation anyway. Now that Jason was getting a good look at his face, and Phantom had decided to let his wispy tail form into legs to pace around as he spoke, there was a strange familiarity about his face. Phantom was the same height as Danny, but considering they seemed around the same age, it wasn’t too strange. The same build, muscle proportion, and uncanny facial features weren’t so easy to explain. If it weren’t for Dr. Kilye’s case, Jason might’ve thought they were twins. Phantom’s eyes weren’t the same blue-gray Danny’s were, instead a vivid green, and his hair was an anti-gravity white instead of Danny’s much more gravity-abiding black.

Thinking that Danny was somehow Phantom seemed almost illogical. The thing that kept whispering- his core (?)- seemed to like them both. But Danny had admitted to having many ghost friends so maybe it was some kind of side effect of hanging out with the undead. Perhaps the rationality was in the irrationality. God damn it, he was starting to sound like Constantine.

“Are you going to tell him that I’m Red Hood?” Jason asked instead.

Phantom was thoughtful before speaking, “He already knows.” He admitted quietly.

“He knows?” Jason spluttered, “He knows what?”

“That Bruce is Batman, Dick is Nightwing, your Red Hood, most of the others too.” He paused, “Like I said, secret identities don’t mean much to ghosts so it’s not like he outed you guys to me. I would’ve known, anyway.”

Jason blinked in surprise. Danny knew? Jason thought back to how quickly he had managed to find out Clark had super hearing. Sure, Clark had started freaking out, but even Jason hadn’t figured out why before Danny came clean. Jason had only spent one day with the kid, separate from how much everyone else kept talking about him and he couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised. “How come he didn’t say anything about it?”

Phantom shrugged, “Dunno.” Jason could tell he was lying. He wasn’t sure how, but the same thing that told Jason to trust him, seemed pretty disappointed at the fact.

Letting the subject change again, “So you put ectoplasm in my soup.” Jason raised a brow. “Wanna explain what that was about?”

“Well, I explained how ghosts need environmental-ectoplasm to stabilize themselves.” Phantom started, happy to change the topic, “Yeah, so whatever envio-ecto you happened to find was, like, gross and decrepit, and it was disturbing your homeostasis, basically. Taking straight shots of ectoplasm can be kinda gross, most ghosts just absorb it, which you can’t do ‘cause you're not ghost enough, or they mix it in with their food. The one I gave you was medical-grade, because believe me, you needed it. I’m sure you're starting to feel the differences by now.”

Was he talking about the Pit Rage? Was Jason just- Did Phantom just cure the pit rage? This whole time, Jason just needed some medicine? Was the universe enjoying making a fool out of him?

“By the way…” Phantom started cheekily, “Mind telling me where you got your alive-juice from? Because it’s not exactly authorized for public use. Or any use, honestly.”

The Lazarus Pit? “I can’t tell you.” Jason said firmly.

“Like, you're cursed to never speak about it, or you're choosing to not tell me?” Phantom asked, concerned.

Jason gave him a judgemental look, “I’m choosing.”

“Oh, ok.” Phantom said, relieved, but not pushing the topic. “So are we good here, cause I can leave.”

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re staying here until I get all my questions answered.” Jason grabbed him by the arm as he was trying to leave. Phantom grimaced but abided by the request. “Do you know a guy named Johnny 13?”

Phantom looked at him confused, “Yeah?”

“He seems like a bad influence.” Phantom balked at him, “Does he hang around Danny a lot?” Jason interrogated.

“Johnny is so not a bad influence.” Phantom huffed.

Jason peered at him, “Your friends with him too aren't you?” He pointed an accusatory finger at the ghost.

Chapter 19: timothy drake’s guide to making friends

Chapter Text

Sure, Tim had had his reservations about Danny. More accurately Tim had reservations about Damian’s blood brother, as the Dracula-spawn would phrase it. But the week and half Danny’d been here, Tim was more conscious of when Danny wasn’t with him than when he was.

Pattering down the stairs, Tim made his way to the kitchen. It had been the first weekend in a while that he had gotten to sleep in, and Tim had enjoyed every moment of his slumber. He walked past Bruce at the head of the table reading his newspaper to grab his breakfast.

When Tim took his usual seat, food in hand. Bruce looked up from his paper. “Good morning, Tim.” He greeted. Tim just nodded in his direction. He looked to the empty seat on Tim’s left. “Where’s Danny?”

Tim looked at him indignantly, “What am I? A Danny tracker?” Bruce said nothing. Tim huffed, “Do you not pay attention? He’s meeting with his hockey team today.” He’d told them at the dinners that had become more frequent since his arrival.

“Oh yes, he mentioned that.” Bruce nodded, returning to his paper. Tim rolled his eyes. Danny wouldn’t be back till later in the afternoon, meaning it was the perfect time for Tim to work on some new software upgrades to his suit.

Long since finished with his project, Tim wandered the Manor bored. Based on traffic around this time of day and distance from the Manor, there was still 43 minutes left until Danny arrived. What did Tim usually do with his free time? Maybe he should go train.

Tim found the nearest gym and pushed open the double doors, surprised to find Damian already inside. He wasn’t wearing his usual training gear, opting instead for a more casual approach of athletic pants, t-shirt, and running shoes. He was drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead instead of its gel spiked style. Damian’s head snapped in his direction at the sound of the door opening. Tim barely had time to notice the soccer ball a few feet away from him, and the goal set up in the corner in the gym. “Leave.” Damian demanded. Tim was saving the picture he had snuck of Danny and Damian in the garden the other day for the optimal moment of revelation. Without another word, Tim left.

Danny had gotten home 14 minutes later than Tim had predicted because he had stopped to grab a milkshake on his way home. Tim should’ve accounted for that. Danny never turned down milkshakes. Tim had already paced in front of the main entrance 16 times before he caught sight of the car that had driven him off in the morning.

“Oh, hey Danny.” Tim waved casually.

Danny looked up from his phone, surprised to see Tim there. “Hey, Tim.” He smiled, “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing. I was just walking by, y’know. Daily dose of sunshine.” Tim stuffed his hands in his pocket.

Danny looked up at the cloudy sky. He nodded in acceptance of the information, “I’m gonna hit the showers.” Gesturing towards the front door.

“Cool yeah. See you later.” Tim nodded, “We can hang out if you're free. And I’m free. Cause I totally have, like, a ton of stuff to do.” Danny waved with a laugh as he disappeared down the hallway.

Okay shower, 19 minutes. Then he’d probably grab some food, based on his average eating rate, Tim estimated another 23 minutes. Today was a Saturday, so chances were Danny would probably postpone his homework till tomorrow. But on the off chance that he did a portion of it today, then that would be another the sound of slurping behind him distracted him from his mental calculations.

Turning around Tim faced Steph who sat leisurely on a lawn chair sipping lemonade. Tim blinked, “How long have you been there?” They didn’t have lawn chairs. Alfred hated lawn chairs.

“Long enough.” She said, a large smirk on her face. “Big world out there, little guy.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Tim said, annoyed, heading back inside.

Tim plopped himself on the sofa a few seats down from Duke, who was heavily engrossed in his video game. Tim watched the screen absentmindedly until Duke either finished the level or died. The other boy turned to him, the controller limp in his lap now. “I thought Danny was home?” He asked.

“He is.” Tim tried to sound offhanded.

Duke gave him a confused brow, “You guys get into a fight or something.”

“What gives you that impression?” Tim smiled cheerily.

The confusion on Duke’s face proved he had not been convincing enough. “Y’know,” He said, changing the topic, “When you and Danny first started hanging out, I’ll admit I might’ve been a bit… annoyed.”

Based on his averted eyes, and hesitant posture, “annoyed” was not the most accurate word. Instead of pointing that out he asked, “What are you talking about?”

Duke shrugged easily, “I mean you have like the Teen Titans, and the Young Justice. You're kinda friends, y’know. I kinda thought, meta to meta, that Danny would be, like, my guy.” Tim wasn’t entirely sure what Duke was talking about. “Like my backup, guy in the chair. But I guess he would have to y’know,” Duke gestured to his chest, alluding to the yellow bat shaped insignia that wasn’t currently there, “know.”

“Duke, we can’t involve-” Tim started, spouting the same explanation he’d been giving himself like a mantra for the past few days.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Duke waved him off dismissively, “But I get it now. You and Danny,” His hand waved in the air like he was trying to grasp the word, “you guys are, like, the same kind of unhinged.” His dreadlocks moved slightly with the self-satisfied nod he gave Tim. “I guess I never noticed, before, how often you would have to stop to explain things, or defend your ideas until you didn’t have to.” Tim blinked at him, “It’s nice that you have a friend like that, Tim. I’m happy for you.”

Tim digested Duke’s words, cross-examining it with the conversations he’d had with Danny before. Was that the reason talking to Danny about his ideas was easier than if it were Konner or Bart? Tim told them almost everything, but discussing his concept ideas or random theories was just tolerated, not explored, like with Danny.

A moment passed, and Duke returned to his game. Tim turned down the controller he’d been offered.

You guys are like the same kind of unhinged. It’s nice that you have a friend like that, Tim.

It’s nice that you have a friend like that.

It’s nice that you have a friend.

Friend.

Were Tim and Danny friends? Tim had been so concerned with trying to establish himself so that Danny wouldn’t try to take advantage of him the way Damian had. Looking back, Tim couldn’t pinpoint the moment he stopped. Tim hadn’t even noticed that Danny had become his friend. Like, an actual friend, and not the various teenagers he used to maintain his public image. Tim thought back to the hours they spent in his lab working on various projects.

Tim was Red Robin, the previous Robin. He knew how to keep a cover, how to pick out clues from people to know things about them they didn't know about themselves. Tim knew how to keep the mask on even when he wasn’t physically wearing one.

You guys are like the same kind of unhinged.

Tim only now realized he hadn’t been wearing a mask. The reason he had never told Danny that he was Red Robin, other than the very heavy rule that Bruce had hung over all their heads, was because he didn’t need to. It didn’t matter that Tim was Red Robin. It didn’t matter that he was Timothy Drake-Wyane. Tim, for the first time since he had picked up the camera and followed Batman and Robin through Gotham, was Tim. Just Tim.

Danny was Tim’s friend. But Tim needed to make sure he was Danny’s friend too. He would need to figure out how to seem reliable and trustworthy without relying on his alter-ego. One of Tim’s best skills was research, and his newest mission required it. By the time Danny joined Tim and Duke, Tim had successfully come up with a step-by-step plan to ensure that Danny would be his friend.

Step 1: Be Inclusive

According to Tim’s research, people liked to feel appreciated and wanted even if not required. If done successfully, then the other person would be more likely to feel comfortable in each other’s presence. And thus more likely to establish an amicable relationship.

When he heard Danny’s footsteps wandering down the hallway, Tim knew it was go time. Quickly, he pulled the plug on the console before plugging it back in again.

“Dude!” Duke gasped shocked when the screen suddenly went black, “I was about to win.”

“It’s for the mission, Duke.” Tim hissed quietly. Just in time as Danny turned into the game room, the logo of the console danced on the screen.

“Hey guys,” Danny greeted with a smile. He waved at Duke, who only stared at Tim dumbfounded.

“Oh, hey, Danny. You're just in time.” Tim grabbed the first controller his hand reached from the drawer, “We were just about to play um-” Tim tried to find the title card.

“Doomable 4.” Duke supplied dryly from the couch.

“Doomable 4.” Tim nodded, “Would you like to join us?” The research had said to leave the invitation open but assertive so they didn’t feel like an afterthought. Hence why the restarting was required. Now Danny would feel like he had arrived at the best time to join, and be inclined to join.

“Sure.” Danny nodded slowly, “I’ve only played 1 and 2 though. Is it a lot different?”

“Not really.” Duke shrugged, as Danny made his way to the extra controllers, “You’d miss a bit of the lore from 3, but I can fill you in.” Duke was a good ally, but Tim wouldn't be upstaged.

Agreeing, Danny grabbed the first controller his hand landed on. About a year and a half ago, the controller wars had gotten to the point of no return and Bruce had invested in custom controllers for each of their personas so they wouldn't fight. Tim looked at the blue controller Danny had in his hand, Nightwing’s version of the bat symbol etched into each joystick, and black accents on its handles.

Tim looked at Danny with a carefully blank face. Danny blinked at him in confusion, as they both looked back down at the controller in unison, and then back up at each other. Danny’s lip twitched, “What?” He asked innocently.

“Nothing.” Tim forced a smile, eyes darting to the controller in his hand. Silently, Danny put the controller back, and shuffled around for a while before finding one with Wonder Woman’s logo etched into it. He showed it to Tim, appraisingly. Tim wordlessly returned to his seat, Red Robin controller in hands. “Let’s just start the game.”

“You aren’t playing, Steph?” Danny asked to the top of the bookshelf.

“No, I’m good up here.” Steph waved with a laugh, Cass huddled in next to her.

“How long have you guys been there?” Duke asked, surprised.

“Long enough.” Steph threw a chip into her mouth. Tim refused to address her.

Step 2: Listen and Show Interest

According to Tim’s research most people enjoy being listened to and feel like their interests are shared. Tim predicted this would be easy enough considering that he and Danny already shared many interests. They both enjoyed video games, building things and designing new projects. Danny had shown Tim how he had planned to have his new room designed, Tim had given him a few pointers based on his experience with the Cave, Borrow, and various other secret bases he’d visited. Danny took them in stride, not questioning how Tim was privy to that kind of information. They spent hours in Tim’s workshop building things together. There was only one thing that Danny was really passionate about that Tim had never been very interested in. Hockey.

Danny, Tim, and Steph were waiting for Alfred to come pick them up from school. Duke had already left for patrol, and Cass… Tim wasn’t sure where she was. Steph was busy typing away on her phone, and he and Danny stood in a comfortable silence. This is the perfect time to strike, Tim. “So,” He drawled, trying to sound candid, “How’s hockey going?”

Danny looked up at him, shielding his eyes from the fall sun, surprise clear in his blue-gray eyes. “It’s good.” He said hesitantly, waiting for Tim to elaborate.

Crap. What do you do in hockey? Tim should’ve done his research. “Do you um…” Think, Tim. “Have games?” He tried. Steph snickered from her spot a few feet away.

Danny blinked at him, before a smile cracked his look of confusion. “Not yet.” He explained, “Qualifiers start this Friday.” He explained, “Qualifiers mean you compete against all the other Gotham teams. After that the team that wins plays for Gotham, against all the other cities, so for state champion.” Tim nodded along, “Then if we can get that far, its national championships.”

Tim bobbed his head trying to digest the information, “What team do you play for then?”

“Arctic Foxes.” Danny said, “Friday’s match is against the Gotham Bats.” After a moment, “I play number 17.” Maybe the Foxes will see an anonymous donation soon. Not that it would be Tim, because Danny definitely wouldn’t appreciate him doing that. Tim wouldn’t do something Danny would be opposed to. His research was very clear about that. Danny continued, as a familiar black car rolled closer to where they stood, “Apparently the Bats usually win state, so it’s a pretty intense qualifier.” They slid into the car.

Tim blinked at that. Somehow he had forgotten that Danny had only been in Gotham for two weeks. He wouldn’t know about the local teams like the other players would. Well, Tim didn’t know either, but that was more of a lack of interest. He would need to do a thorough background search on all the players to make sure they weren’t… suspicious. Maybe he should ask Danny’s opinion first, to see how he feels about his new team members. “How’s your team then?”

“They’re pretty good. I got to be center forward, so we’re practicing on, like, team integration and all that. Honestly, I was kinda surprised they put me in the second line. Figured I’d have to be a fourth or something for a while since I haven’t played in a few years.” Danny prattled on easily, fixing his bag by his feet before turning to face Tim. Danny laughed at the confused expression painted on Tim’s face, “Forwards are like the offensive position, we strike and try to score and stuff. Defenders, pretty obvious, defend against the opponent. And then goaltender. There's 6 players on the ice at a time.” He explained easily.

“Oh, so you play offense?” Tim summarized, not correcting Danny’s misunderstanding of his question.

Danny nodded, there was a quiet nervousness when he spoke again. “You can come to the game on Friday. If you want to see.” He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.

Tim did want to see. “I’ll be there.”

Step 3: Share Information

Tim’s research had clarified that only one person sharing information to the other was a sign of emotional imbalance and was something to be avoided as much as possible. Tim was extra aware of this because of the length everyone had gone through to hide their vigilante personas.

As the car pulled up to the front entrance of the Manor, Danny invited Tim to his newly finished room after school. He had helped Danny design the room, so he was excited to see how it had turned out. The ceiling in the room was about 40 ft high and Danny had used that to his advantage by installing a faux second floor to his room. The bottom floor had the usual set up: bed, TV, and a showcase of various space themed memorabilia Danny had collected. The second floor though was a complete switch up to that, its flooring was of tinted glass, so from above the entire bottom floor was visible but the top floor was nearly hidden from view. There was a ring of floorless area where a ring around the stairs led upstairs, and also the only spot that gave the bottom floor view of the top. The top floor was rigged with all the lab equipment Tim had, like a 3D printer, large wall computer, holographic table on one end and a regular work table on the other.

The tour had concluded with both boys sitting on Danny’s floor, divulging in all the minor details Danny had thought to include. “So,” Danny asked after a lull of silence, “What are you thinking?” Eyes absentmindedly taking in the intricacies of the avant garde ceiling.

This was the perfect opening Tim had been waiting for. Taking the opportunity, “When I was little my parents were always busy with work. They were archaeologists and I never even knew what country they were in,” Danny’s head turned to his brows scrunched in confusion, blinking slowly, “They hired help to manage the house while they were gone, but I was mostly on my own. I didn’t have a nanny or anything. And I was homeschooled so the tutors would all just come by when they were scheduled.” Danny nodded slowly. “I don’t think I ever left Drake Manor until I was like 7 and just decided that I could leave. I mean there wasn’t really anyone to stop me. Which in hindsight was totally something a 7-year-old should not be allowed to do.

“But I would go around Gotham on my little bicycle and over-hyped camera to take pictures of the city. I remember the first time I saw Batman and Robin fight off some thugs. I tried to take a picture but my flash was on, and they totally saw me and the thugs got away. I kinda felt bad about that, but I was way more scared that Batman would arrest me or something. But he just asked Robin to take me back home while he went to catch the thugs. Pretty sure that was Nightwing before he became Nightwing.” Tim tried to play into the uncertainty, “He took me to get fries and a milkshake and it was the first time I ever had fast food, and then on the way home he gave me a huge long lecture about how Gotham’s not safe out at night and I shouldn’t be out on my own.” Tim took a breath, thinking of ways to conceal how this led him to his own Robin costume. Danny listened intently.

“I listened for like a week.” Tim paused, “Actually I think it was like 3 days. And I’d done all the research I could on all of them. Looking back, I was definitely obsessed. It went on for years, and I even tried to crack a few cold cases to get their attention. Which I totally did.” Tim puffed his chest out in pride, “They were like years old, too.”

“Did you ever get a chance, then?” Danny whispered, taking in all the details Tim had offered him.

“Chance for what?”

Danny didn’t answer right away, “A chance to work with Batman and Robin?” Tim turned to him, eyes peered into Danny’s eyes, searching. His eyes wandered around, not looking at Tim’s, but there was a look on Danny’s face that he couldn’t ignore. Like he was waiting for the ball to drop.

Did Tim have to lie? He either lied and preserved the secret Bruce had explicitly told them to keep, or he told the truth and Danny would know that he was Red Robin. And by consequence, air out all the others too. Originally they agreed to keep the secret because they hadn’t fully trusted Danny, which was not the case anymore. And Tim agreed with Bruce’s point that if Danny knew they were the Bats and got seen with them too often, it would put a target on his back, or worse he might try to join them. And from what Tim knew of Danny, he would definitely try to join them. But if Tim denied it, it would be a lie.

Was Tim ready to lie to Danny? Lying had never been difficult for him, in fact, sometimes it came easier than telling the truth. But in the whole two weeks they’d known each other, Tim was vividly aware that this would be the first proper lie he told Danny. He wondered how sustainable it would be. Would he have to go the rest of their lives not telling him? What if they eventually told him? Then Danny would know they had all explicitly lied to him. That Tim had lied to his face, point blank.

The tension of the matter weighed on Tim, and the silence of him not answering had almost become deafening. Danny pushed himself onto his forearms, with a laugh that ripped through the swirling thoughts in Tim’s mind. “What are you even talking about, man? I meant what you think of, like, the room.” Danny loosely gestured around them.

The laugh didn’t have the airiness that Danny’s laugh always had. Tim didn’t comment on the fact, “Oh,” He let himself look embarrassed.

Danny’s fake laugh turned genuine for a moment before he was somber again, “I get it though.” He said quietly, “My parents were pretty busy all the time too. It was part of the reason they put me and my sister into so many clubs when we were younger. It changed when I was 15 though.” Danny’s voice was delicate, and Tim knew it wasn’t something he enjoyed talking about often.

The invisible guilt chewed at Tim, but he pushed it aside. “What happened?” He asked curiously, letting the conversation trail away from his dilemma.

Danny pressed his lips together, looking anywhere but at Tim. “We took a trip to Chicago. It was after my sister left for college. So, y’know, just the three of us.”

Tim could hear the emotion Danny was fighting back, and he wanted to ask. Tim wanted to ask what happened to Danny in Chicago. He wanted to ask why Danny looked terrified just at the memory of it. He wanted to know what his sister leaving had to do with it. Tim wanted to know what happened when Danny was 15, but he couldn’t ask because he was Red Robin and his research said that information imbalance led to a deteriorated relationship. Tim wanted to know. But more than that, Tim wanted Danny to be his friend, so he didn’t ask.

Step 4: Pick Up On Their Mannerisms

According to Tim’s research, people often feel appreciated and “seen” when their mannerisms are noticed and, if applicable, accommodated to. With the success of step three still questionable, Tim would have to double down for step four. It shouldn’t be too difficult considering that noticing things was Tim's “thing”, in Dick’s words.

Ever since the dinner where Danny’s meta abilities were “exposed” ,Tim tried to figure out how his ice powers worked. Tim had met other ice metas before, and their usual handicap revolved around external temperatures. Killer Frost, for example, needed to absorb heat to maintain homeostasis, a common theme with most other ice users. According to Danny’s medical file, like other ice users, he also had a lower body temperature, and, concerningly, a slow heart rate. Tim had noticed, unlike the other users, external temperatures seemed to have little effect on Danny’s powers. Tim was itching to run some tests to see just how capable Danny’s powers were with the unprecedented advantage over other ice powered individuals.

The matter had come again when Tim kept Danny company while he put together some ramen after school. The disaster that Tim was in the kitchen, he had simply taken up a seat on the counter while Danny boiled the noodles and prepped the ingredients. When the noodles were deemed sufficiently boiled, Danny strained the water like Tim had seen Alfred do.

“-That’s what Ash said,” Danny explained, reaching his hand into one of identical looking cupboards and pulling out a pan.

“Ash?” Tim questioned, “Asher McGinnis?” Lining up the strips of garlic in an effort to seem useful.

“Yeah, he’s graduating next year.” Danny put the pan on the stove, just a little off the circle where the fire would ignite. “He’s team captain,” Tim nodded, remembering that information from the background search he had done. “Coach said that- Agh!” Danny yelped, jumping away from the stove.

Garlic left forgotten, Tim was instantly on his feet, “What?” He asked, alarmed.

“I burned my hand.” He hissed through the pain, gripping his burnt skin.

“Do you need some burn cream?” Tim’s mind went immediately to the meta-grade healing ointment in the Batcave.

“No, I can just ice it.” A thin layer of light blue crystal spread across the burn, “Pretty handy, huh?” Danny boasted, showing off his work.

“Are you sure?” Tim surveyed the wound, “Doesn't the heat go against the ice power?” He asked curiously, the burn already seeming less inflamed.

“Not really,” Danny shrugged, repositioning the pan and letting the dribble of oil roll around before scraping in the ingredients. “If it’s hot on the outside,” He lightly gestured to his burn, “My ice isn’t as strong, but I can keep going for longer because I won’t, like, freeze.” The spatula clicked against the metal of the pan as the noodles slurped in the sauces. “If it’s colder, then the ice is a lot stronger, but I probably couldn’t maintain it for too long.” Danny leaned on the counter opposite of Tim as the lid on the pan fogged up.

Committing that to memory, “What do you mean, ‘freeze’?”

Danny left to grab the bowls, “I guess, well, things get slower when the environment is cold.” He stated delicately, “If the environment ,” Danny gestured to his whole body, “gets too cold then things ,” He pointed to his heart, “would get slower.”

Danny’s heart was already slow thanks to his powers, by getting even slower it would be life threatening. Tim stayed silent at the solemn thought. He had been curious to know how far Danny’s powers could go, but now he felt a sense of dread at the thought. On one hand knowing its limits would show them the boundaries not to cross, but at what cost? Tim remembered Bruce’s hesitation to tell Danny about their secret identities.

“It’s just a theory, Tim. Don’t get so glum about it.” Danny nudged him lightly, handing Tim the steaming bowl of ramen. “I’ve used my powers a lot before and I’ve been fine.” He said cheerfully.

---

Tim and Danny worked together on their model plane design in the second floor of Danny’s room. The idea was to see if the plane could function properly if it had a more eco-friendly source of power as opposed to the jet fuel. They worked in silence, already used to each other’s company and work style, the quiet hum of the shuffled playlist filled the air.

Finished with the new sketch of his redesign that accounted for all the unsavory parts of their last design, Tim called Danny to get his input. Absorbed in his work on the other end of the table, he didn’t react to his name. After the third unsuccessful try, Tim made his way over with the sketch. “Hey,” He said lightly, grabbing Danny’s stationary wrist.

In a flash of aggression Tim had long since disassociated with the older Wayne, Danny whipped his hand out of Tim’s non-constricting grip. Head snapping in his direction, and the sharp tool that was strewn just a little while from him had found its way into Danny’s grip. Tim stepped back in shock, the practiced defensive position kicking in as his book thumped to the floor.

Danny clenched jaw slackened after he finally seemed to register his surroundings. His eyes went to the small blade in his hand and he immediately let it roll out of his reach. Gulping lightly, he took a breath. “Sorry, I thought-” Danny cut himself off with another steadying breath, “Sorry.” He rubbed the wrist Tim had tired for.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me.” Tim said lamely, picking up his sketchbook off the floor. In his peripheral vision, Tim caught the displayed watch on his display case next to some model spaceships. Tim had easily recognized the watch as the signature Wayne Watch, made famous by its constant appearance on the late Thomas Wayne. Tim watched it rotate on the small display device Danny had made for it.

Tim remembered Danny’s comment about “not really being a watch person” when Tim had first brought that up. Back on his feet, Tim noticed Danny’s sweatshirt sleeves folded just above his wrists. He recalled all the times he had seen Danny roll his sleeves to that height. Or how repeatedly Danny would push up the sleeves to his uniform sleeves after being explicitly told he wasn’t allowed to fold it because of school policy. Tim couldn’t remember a single time Danny had allowed his sleeves to cover his wrists, especially the ones that cuffed in.

“Sorry,” Danny said again, quietly, refusing to look at Tim.

“It’s not your fault, Danny.” Tim said reassuringly. It was definitely someone’s, though.

---

Danny, Tim, Jason and Duke were sprawled on the many sofas and plush carpets of the game room. The board game they had been playing for the last hour was left forgotten in the corner.

“Should we watch a movie?” Broke the stretch of bored silence.

“Which one?”

“A chick flick?” That earned a pillow to the face, “Ugh, it was just a suggestion. Anyone know a good comedy?”

Duke reached his hand to grab the remote, pressing it a few times. “It’s not working?”

Danny peered over, “Oh, the plug’s not in all the way.”

“I don’t wanna get up.” Tim whined, still sore from last night’s patrol.

“I’ll get it.” Danny huffed, shoving Tim’s arm out of his way with his foot.

Tim stuck out his tongue at Danny in an act of rebellion, turning his head away. Something he instantly regretted when the calm silence was broken by a harrowing scream of pain. All Tim saw was Danny's head hitting the floor as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“What?” Jason asked confused and alarmed, quickly making his way to check on the now unconscious Danny.

“What happened?” Tim reached for his neck instead of his wrist to find a pulse.

“I don’t know.” Duke was the only one to answer, “There was a spark of light?” He offered helplessly.

“He got electrocuted.” Jason held up Danny’s limp hand. Tim was about to refute, the outlet hardly had enough volts to cause any harm above a light shock. But the jarred black lightning shaped mark that originated from his fingertips and stretched into his sleeve made him eat his words.

“Maybe the heat from the spark didn’t mesh well with his ice.” Duke hypothesized.

“His pulse seems uneven.” Tim said quietly, counting the beats per second. He reminded himself that Danny’s heart was supposed to be slow. He was fine. His heart’s supposed to go like that. It’s supposed to be like that, Tim. “His heart rate is speeding up.” Tim breathed in relief, when the number he was counting slowly met the numbers in his file. Danny’s hand fidgeted under Jason’s calculating gaze. “It wasn’t the heat.” Tim finally said, “The temperature doesn’t affect his powers. Said so himself.” he cited, saving the details. “I think it was the electricity itself. Danny’s ice works a little differently to the other ice metas we’ve met.”

Danny groaned lightly on the floor, and the tension between them evaporated. As he sat up, Jason jumped at his chance, “You wanna explain what just happened?”

Danny blinked slowly, trying to orient himself. He rubbed the back of his head where he fell, “Ugh, that was so embarrassing.” Danny groaned more emotionally than in pain now.

“Explain.” Tim pressed again.

“I’m just really sensitive to electricity.” Danny paused, letting his hand drop onto his knees, pushing himself onto his feet. The other three stood up with him. “I think it is the conductivity of ice or something.” Another pause, then he said more quietly, “I was electrocuted when I found out I was a meta.”

The entire Manor was checked for faulty wires and insulated within the week.

Step 5: Be supportive

Of all the steps, this one seemed the most arbitrary to Tim. His research had only shown him examples of being supportive and not steps to do so. It had more than explained the need for it though. It was the foundation of building a friendship. Tim had waited for the opportunity but he did not expect it to arise with Danny on the edge of the roof of Wayne Enterprise, and him on patrol.

---

Bruce had called an emergency meeting for an ongoing case that he was finally able to crack into. Usually they all worked on their own cases, but this one had grown too big for even Batman to take on without any help. There was a smuggling ring that was using some kind of drug embedded into their weapons, causing the spread of an unknown toxin. Gathered in one of the lesser used lounge rooms, not wanting Danny to notice their absences if they went to the cave, they spoke in hushed voices, sharing information about the case.

Cass was the first to react to the pitter patter of well-paced feet coming closer. By the time the only possible culprit came into view of the doorframe, the entire room had gone into a suspicious silence. Danny’s eyes filtered quickly over the room, the excitement that had been radiating off him in waves dissipated and a look of understanding flashed in his eyes. His smile hadn’t faltered, despite the sudden tenseness in his shoulders as his blue-gray eyes locked in with Jason for only a split second. All that passed within the shortest second, “Have you guys seen Alfred?” Danny asked, trying to match the cheer that had been on his face. He slid the item in his hand discreetly into his back pocket.

“I believe he said he would be tending to the garden.” Bruce gave him a cheerful smile, but the dismissal was abrasively apparent. No one spoke up.

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded, walking off. The purposeful steps that had approached them were lighter and disappeared quickly. The obvious fact that he hadn’t been looking for Alfred pricked at Tim.

A thick fog of guilt hung on all their faces, as Bruce concluded his findings.

“Y’know it’s only a matter of time. He’s not stupid.” Jason was the first to break the silence. When no one spoke, he added, “He found out Clark was a meta before we even got to his office. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already on to us.”

“He knows Clark is Superman?” Bruce asked.

Jason looked at him irritated, “Seriously? That’s your takeaway?” He huffed, crossing his arms. “He found out Clark has super hearing, because someone forgot to tell Boy Scout that Danny has a slightly irrregular heart rate.”

“You’re making a mistake underestimating him, Father.” Damian spoke unexpectedly, “He may be your son, but do not forget that Daniel is also my brother.” The room turned to look at the youngest in surprise, “Todd is right, it is only a matter of time.” He finished, turning away in indignation, and, by Tim’s suspicions, embarrassment.

“He’s not going to find out, guys.” Dick tried to reason, “And besides, it’s for his own good. We talked about this.”

Jason scoffed at the audacious statement, and Tim had to agree. “Whatever, I’m out.”

“For his good?” Tim took his turn, “Or yours?” For all the heroing Tim had done, he didn’t have the courage to face Danny after that. When they had all been called down for dinner, Tim found Danny returning from the garden even though the sky had already darkened. Tim wanted to ask what Danny had been doing out there for so long, and why there was dirt on the back of his pants.

Neither of them said anything, the full table only taking turns to speak when Dick insisted they talk about their day. Steph sent out her college applications. Cass had scored a lead for a ballet she had auditioned for. Duke got a test back and scored the best in his class. Bruce had a meeting with some conglomerates. Dick had found a dollar at a gas station he had stopped at on his drive from Bludhaven. Damian had been working on an art piece he wasn’t willing to share any further details about.

“What about you Jason?” Dick prompted with his too-cheery attitude.

Jason shot him a dirty look, likely a residue from their sour exchange earlier. “I didn’t shoot anyone today.” He said pointedly.

“C’mon Jay, give us something juicy.” Dick prodded. When the dual-hair man said nothing, he moved on to his next target, “Alfie,” He called the butler who had finished refilling everyone's drinks. “How was your day?” Tim wondered when he’d grown unused to the dinner table being so silent.

“I’m quite disappointed that I wasn’t able to get around to tending to the garden.” Alfred sighed to himself. Bruce took a sharp intake of breath, his grip on his fork tightening. Danny didn’t react. Alfred sent the oldest Wayne a confused brow, but continued with his work.

Dick’s eyes shot in Danny’s direction, and when he didn’t react he continued. “It’s okay, Alfred. There’s always tomorrow.” Turning to Tim. “Timbers, your turn.”

Tim stabbed his food with the fork, “Was fine.” He muttered, guilt still twitching in his stomach.

Tim was glad Dick didn’t prod anymore, “Last but not least,” Dick began grandly, Tim suppressed a groan. “Danny!”

At his name, Danny looked up at Dick. “Huh?” Tim finally realized who’s comedy and unnecessary remarks had been absent throughout the meal.

Dick blinked, “How was your day?” Duke pressed his lips in a line on the other side of the table.

“Oh, uh, it was good, I guess.” Danny shrugged.

“That’s good.” Dick said lamely.

There was a quick beat of silence, “Uh, do you guys have any plans next Thursday? The, uh, 24th.” Danny tried, keeping his voice even. The 24th was the day the bust was supposed to happen. Batman had made it clear they all needed to be present unless otherwise stated.

“That’s the day I have a meeting with the Marrtown Foundation.” Bruce was the first to come up with an excuse.

Dick not far behind, “I got a full shift that day.” He let out a practiced sigh. “Why?” Dick asked after everyone had rattled off their excuses. Jason had stayed silent, and for probably the first time in his life, a lie had seemed too difficult for Tim.

“Just wondering. No reason.” Danny dismissed easily. Danny’s team was facing the regional semi-finals on the 24th. He’d heard all the excitement Danny talked about it with. And everyone had just said they were too busy to come.

“Food was great, Alfred.” Jason stood up, “Can’t say the same for everything else.” He snapped to the head of the table, “Long day or whatever. I’m out.” It was nearly time for Red Hood to make an appearance. Slowly the room emptied itself and they all took their usual rooftops.

It was well into the night, and a few thugs (that Red Robin may have taken his frustrations out on) later that he saw a sight that he couldn’t punch his way out of. On top of the tallest building in Gotham Central, was the silhouette of a boy probably not much taller than Red Robin with his feet dangling over the edge. Red Robin wasn’t sure how the teen had managed to get to the roof of Wayne Enterprise after the building had long since locked up for the day, but that was hardly his main concern. Into his comm, “I have a code 7. Turning off audio.” He informed Oracle on the other end.

“Copy.” And the line went completely silent. Red Robin let his feet fall loudly on the cement of the rooftop as he approached the familiar-looking teen.

“I’m not gonna jump.” He said at the sound of feet, “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Danny?” Red Robin couldn’t help but blurt out surprised.

Danny turned to look at Tim’s masked face. “How do you know who I am?” He asked, confused.

Crap. “I saw you on the news.” Play it off, Tim. “The Daily Planet.” Red Robin turned his cameras off before the boy came into view.

“Oh, right.” Danny laughed lightly, “I forgot about that.”

“Mind if I join you?” Red Robin asked, stepping closer. Danny gestured to the open area next to him. Taking the wordless offer, he took a seat letting his feet dangle the hundreds of feet up in the air. “What are you doing up here?”

“The objective was stargazing.” Danny laughed dryly, eyeing the smoggy Gotham sky. Even the moon was blurred behind the layers of chemicals and pollution. Red Robin stayed silent for a while, and Danny spoke again. “I’m just clearing my head. You don’t have to stay.”

“Why wouldn’t I stay?” Tim asked.

Danny turned to him, surprised by the response. “I mean don’t you have to go, I don’t know, save the world or something?”

“My next appointment to save the world isn’t until,” Red Robin dragged out the word as he made a show of checking his wrist computer, “Oh would you look at that. Not a single one.” Danny laughed at that. An actual laugh. Tim couldn’t help the satisfied smile that spread on his lips. “It’s just us, Danny. You can talk to me. Or don’t. Whatever you want.” Red Robin offered the faceless void many took him for.

“It’s nothing serious.” Danny shrugged, letting his breath fog in the chilly air. “I guess, when I moved here, I just thought things would be different. Y’know, new city, new people, new… family.” Family. “But,” he sighed deeply, “It’s like I’m stuck in the same show with a different cast.”

Tim remembered the time Danny had told him the reason his parents had put him in so many sports when he was little. He remembered how surprised Danny was when Tim actually made good on his promise to come to the preliminaries Danny had invited him to, and how excited he'd been to talk to Tim about it after. Danny had told him that his parents never had time to come to his games.

“I guess I should be grateful, though.” Danny started after a while, “Things are definitely better here. There’s no…” His voice trailed off into a memory he wasn’t sharing, “They’re not horrible people.” Danny said defensively after a while, seemingly hearing himself. “They’re great, honestly.” The distant look in his eyes overshadowed a genuine smile that tried at his lips. “It’s just,” The thoughtful silence turned into a gutted sigh, “I don’t know.” He concluded, defeated.

Red Robin thought about his response. “Why don’t you tell me about them? So we can try to find the root of the problem.” Tim was already aware what the root of the problem was.

“Tell you about my family?” Danny asked, finding the question hilarious.

“Only if you want.” Red Robin prefaced.

Danny was silent for a moment, laying down on the hard cement and gazing up into the cloudy sky. “Well I guess, the first person I met was Dick. I can’t believe he went his whole life being called that, like, on purpose.” Both boys shared a laugh at that, “He’s fun to hangout around, he keeps things pretty light.” Danny paused for a moment, and Red Robin thought that was all he had to say. “I think he has a hard time with confrontation, though- or not confrontation.” Danny backtracked quickly, “He doesn't like emotional conflict.” Danny considered it, and so did Tim behind the mask. “Yeah, I think he gets stressed out when other people fight. Like he’s responsible for it.”

“Hm,” Red Robin nodded, Tim was more intrigued with what else Danny had to say about the others now.

“Then there’s Bruce.” Danny started, thinking, “I really hope he doesn’t expect me to call him Dad or something.” The boy grimaced. Red Robin crossed his legs, facing the civilian now. “He’s kinda standoffish. I feel like he thinks people notice less about him than they actually do. Or like he’s always the outlier in a crowd. Which, I mean, being, like, that well known, it makes sense.” Danny kneaded his lips together, “But he acts like he’s an observer too. Like his… like his actions only affect people in the way he wants it to.” Tim wondered if Danny knew the full extent of how correct he was in that assumption.

“You don’t seem too fond of him.”

“That’s not it,” Danny denied easily. “Back in- er, when I was growing up, everyone always said my sister looked exactly like our mom.” Then he amended quietly, “Her mom. They look really similar, but they have a lot of the same mannerisms too. Like it was obvious she was their kid, y’know. People would always try to say that I looked like,” he hesitated for a moment, “Her dad. But it was only because we both had black hair and blue eyes. We weren’t really that alike.” Danny took a breath, “I guess it’s strange to see who I finally do act like after so long. It’s a little uncanny.”

“Alfred’s pretty cool too.” Danny continued past not bothering to ease the emotional transition. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was secretly, like, Superman or something. Maybe the gray hair is just to throw everyone off his tail.”

“I can neither confirm or deny that statement.” Red Robin said in faux professionalism.

“I knew it.” Danny said to himself, jokingly. “Next,” He stretched the word out, a smirk stretching on his lips. “I met Tim.” Red Robin tried not to show his explicit interest, and nodded. Danny stayed silent in thought for a moment, “I think of all of them, Tim was the only one I actually knew about. Like before the case broke and stuff. I thought he was pretty cool.”

Don’t react. “Past tense?”

“Y’know the whole never meet your idols thing.” Danny sighed morosely. He turned his head to look at Red Robin after a moment of silence, “I’m joking.” He shrugged with a grin. Red Robin wondered for a moment if Danny had done that on purpose, if he’d somehow found out who he was. Tim hoped he had. “Tim’s definitely one of my best friends in Gotham.” Don’t react. “He’s really easy to talk to, and I feel like we’re always on the same page.” Don’t react. “He’s one of the brightest minds in his field, everyone knows that. So I kinda thought, y’know in comparison, I’d be kind of the fool. But he never makes me feel like that.”

“I’m sure he never thought you were a fool.” Red Robin tried to make his voice sound distant, “I bet he thinks you’re really smart too.”

“You do?” Danny asked curiously.

Red Robin schooled his features carefully, “Yeah.” he said confidently. “He probably really appreciates that he has someone who he can share his ideas with. even if he might not say so all the time.” Red Robin paused, and more quietly, “You never know you might be one of his closest friends too.”

Danny stared at the sky, “You think so?”

“It’s just what I think.” Red Robin added, “I mean, I don’t know him personally or anything.” There was a beat of silence, “What about the others?” Red Robin prompted gently, not wanting Danny to dwell on this too long.

“Hm? Oh. Um, Jason and Damian.” Danny sat up, “Jason’s actually surprisingly easy to talk to. He puts up this uncaring facade, but I feel like he just gets things a lot faster. Like, I don’t know how to explain.” Danny chuckled lightly, “That sounds kinda dumb, huh?”

“No, I get what you mean. It’s nice to have someone like that.”

Taking the encouragement he added, “He’s totally the type to take on a lot more than he should. Just pile on responsibilities that aren’t his and then refuse to let them go. It’s admirable in some ways. But also, like, super concerning. Damian’s kinda like that too. He doesn’t treat himself like a kid. But I think it’s just ‘cause no one else ever treated him like one.” There was a sense of understanding and empathy in his tone that made Tim think Danny was calling from personal experience. “They’re both people you can count on, though.” He added confidently.

Red Robin sat through his view of Cass, Steph and Duke and remembered Jason’s claim that Danny was bound to figure it out, eventually. It would definitely be sooner rather than later. For him to be so observant without any training or experience, Red Robin couldn’t help but imagine the competency and potential he would with it.

Danny turned to him when there was a rhythmic beeping on his wrist computer. “You probably have to go, huh?”

“Evil never sleeps.” Red Robin quoted with a weak laugh.

“Thanks for staying with me.” Danny said genuinely, “I feel a lot better now.” He sat up to face him.

“All in a day’s work.” Red Robin smiled, “Or nights, I guess.” He looked around, “You need a ride down?” He displayed the grappling hook in his hand, gesturing to the side of the building.

Danny eyed the grappling hook curiously. “You're, like, pretty good with that, right?”

“I’d think so.” A familiar sound of steel-toed boots and heavy armor hit the rooftop in the shadows.

“What if I jumped off the building?” Red Robin’s head swiveled to him concerned, “You could probably catch me right?” There was pure excitement on Danny’s face, and it rubbed off on Tim who couldn’t fight the quirk of his lip.

“Oh yeah, I could definitely catch you.”

“Absolutely not.” A new voice came from the shadow. Both boys turned to look at Red Hood who stepped out of the dark shadows, making his way to them quickly.

Danny turned to Red Robin, betrayed, “You wouldn’t catch me?”

“No, dude. I would totally catch you.” He pointed a finger at Red Hood, “I don't know what he’s talking about.”

Danny took a step closer to the ledge, but was quickly stopped when Red Hood grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket. “How stupid do you have to be to jump off a 96 story building for a f*cking giggle?”

“How else are we gonna get down?” Red Robin asked, throwing his arms up in exasperation.

“Your only solution is to jump?” Hood shot back, annoyance bleeding out of his voice modulator. Grabbing Danny in a careful grip, Red Hood took him down in a careful zipline from his own grapple gun. Red Robin following behind. After the long trip down because they were, apparently, not allowed to have any fun, Tim was surprised to see the motorcycle Bruce had gotten for Jason. Jason of course had refused to touch them, and it was left forgotten in the garage. Until now, because it was, here, outside of Wayne Enterprise.

The masked face turned to him demanding an explanation in silence, “Surprise!” Danny gave Red Hood jazz hands.

“Last I checked, you weren’t allowed to have one of those. You need a license, in case you were unaware.” Red Hood’s shoulders rolled back, tensed. They were easily 50 minutes away from Wayne Manor, and he didn’t seem too keen on the idea that Danny had come all that way alone on that bike.

But all the older vigilante’s concerns were met with a sh*t-eating grin splitting on Danny’s face. “Looks like your sources are outdated.” He pulled something out of his back pocket, “Check again.” Danny pulled out a motorcycle license and shoved it into Red Hood’s helmet.

Hood took it from his hand, and gave it a careful look over, “Is this real?”

“Unlike your job,” Danny snapped, “Yes.” He snatched the card back from Red Hood and slid it back into his wallet. “I was gonna tell them earlier, but I, uh, didn’t get around to it. So hopefully I won't get in trouble.” Danny’s head pointed to the bike behind him. Tim remembered when Danny found them during their impromptu debriefing, and the thing he had stored into his pocket seemed suspiciously license shaped now that he thought about it.

Hood said nothing for a while, “I’ll drive you back.” He headed for the bike.

“I can drive.” Danny said defensively.

“Like sh*t. I don’t care what your license has to say.” Hood turned to Danny, “For all I know, you coulda bribed them.” Danny gave him an affronted expression, but before he could say anything else, “Mine’s around back. I’ll tail you and make sure you actually get home.” Jason added quickly.

“Tch. Whatever.” Danny huffed annoyed, excitement twinkling in his eyes, “You’re such a helicopter.” Red Robin wondered when Danny had become so familiar with Red Hood’s persona.

---

“Any new developments in our case?” Nightwing asked, leaning on the computer table. Red Robin noted everything onto the file. “Anything else?”

When finally no one had anything else to add, Tim took his chance. Putting in all the urgency he could into his tone, “I think there’s a location we need to check out before we jump to the bust. I think we’ll find something pretty important there.” He put the coordinates in pulling up an arena, “One of our main POI will be there. 27th, 5 PM.” There was a chorus of agreements, and Tim’s eyes momentarily locked with Jason’s on the other side of the room. Accepting the nod of approval, “Dress casual, day persona will be the best course of action.”

“Do we have an ID on our suspect?” Batman questioned, not doubting Tim’s words.

“Not anything we aren’t already aware of,” Tim fibbed, “I got a ping they might be there.”

Eventually Thursday the 27th rolled around. The day of the bust, Danny had left early in the morning and wouldn’t be returning until late in the afternoon.

They all pulled up to the sight and met up in the concession area. “Why do you think the perp would be at a junior league hockey game?” Dick asked, munching on some popcorn. Bruce waited expectantly for an answer next to him.

Damian raised a brow at them, likely already having figured out the plan. Tim spoke before the brat could expose him, “Keep your eye on number 17 on the Foxes.” He said cryptically, leading them to their seats.

Chapter 20: damian and the mission

Chapter Text

Damian’s case had been going fine until he ran into a roadblock he could not overcome himself. After looking into the Fentons, Damian had done his research into the anti-ecto act. Familiar with these types of cases from observing Father and the others, Damian was able to do much of the research without requiring any guidance. The acts on its own had been reason for much concern, deeming those with a traceable “ecto-signature” subject to capture, detainment, and in some cases to be used as research subjects. Damian had looked deeper into the GIW server to find exactly what their “research” entailed. In a word, it was harrowing. Statistically, most test subjects were not able to make it out “responsive”, to use their own terminology. Damian could not help but notice the peculiar terminology used in the reports, it went further than considering those with an ectoplasmic energy sub-human, as if they were not to be considered sentient or even alive.

Damian may not be as proficient in bypassing firewalls as Oracle or Red Robin, the information he was able to uncover was harrowing. Even his natural curiosity was repulsed by what more could be hidden behind the ones he had not managed to decode. To consider a subject not appropriate for public knowledge, while the ones that were deemed acceptable were already in such dire conditions was a terrifying bar. The GIW’s research was partnered closely with the Drs. Fenton, though Daniel's association was to be determined. Considering he was still a student, he likely did not have the qualification to be welcomed into their research. But the Fentons themselves did not seem so rule-abiding when it came to their research, if their papers were anything to go by.

In his search, Damian had found that in the last two years, the Fentons were offered a position as researchers for the ecto-biology division Dalv Co. had recently funded. Then roughly 6 months ago, construction began in the Caribbean for another research facility despite the current one not producing enough funds to make it a reasonable business venture. The founder of Dalv Co, was Vladimir Masters, an alumni of the same PhD program as the Fentons, and their former research partner. Damian thought it was quite crass that he named his company the inversion of his moniker, Vlad. The association between the three was only made more suspicious by Masters sporadically running for mayor of Amity Park when he had previously been residing in Wisconsin.

Whatever scheme was underway, there was nothing Damian was able to find from his research online. The primary objective of the case was to bring legal attention to the anti-ecto laws, not uncover the strange relationship between Masters, the Fentons, and the GIW. If Damian’s suspicions were correct, Daniel would pose some relevancy as well, though how was still undetermined.

Painfully aware that his age would cause some hindrance in seeing out the case on his own, Damian thoroughly considered who he should partner with on this case. Richard was not an unfathomable choice, but his expertise did not lie in legal work. Todd was inconsiderable, as were Thomas and Cain, for a variety of reasons. Brown was an odd choice and did not know her way around the law as this case may require. That left his options Drake or Father. As much as it pained Damian to admit, Drake had a considerable amount of experience dealing with the legal system, and may be able to bring light to this case despite his age.

Of course, Damian could ask Father. With his public influence, the case would be over in a matter of weeks if not days. But the consequence of that was that he would simply be handing it over to Father. It would not be a collaborative effort, not that Damian wanted to collaborate, but he was not keen on the idea of relinquishing his credit to the case simply because Father had taken it up. If it were Drake, then Damian was confident he would still be regarded as the owner of the matter. If not publicly, then at least where it mattered.

Damian’s chair creaked as his weight shifted. The case had taken up much of Damian’s free time, as well as his football practice. He had set aside time for his art projects, as he made a habit to always do, but the blindingly blank canvas that had sat on his easel untouched for the past week and a half seemed to only taunt him. Damian fiddled with the bristles of his brush, the water tinted his dark skin. It was still quite early in the day, he had planned to spend a substantial portion of it working on his art but it seemed the universe was unwilling.

Putting his supplies away, Damian opened his laptop to work on his case instead. From what Father and Richard had shared of their experience with the Fentons, it seemed they were quite chatty and quick to share information that should otherwise not be so easy to obtain. Not having met them himself, Damian was unsure how successful he would be in retrieving data that might be more personal. His objective was to first figure out if Daniel had been involved in their research practices, and shared their ideologies. Perhaps it would be more convenient to confront Daniel himself, but Damian could not yet risk him being aware of the case.

It was easy enough to find the website for the new facility the Drs. Fentons were assigned to. Their profiles were conveniently on the home screen of the website, as well as their qualifications and contact information. Damian blinked at his screen, unable to believe the information he thought would take him upwards of an hour to hack and receive was served to him. A little unnerved, Damian brought out his phone and dialed the number, testing his luck.

The phone rang two times before there was a beep. “Hello, you’ve reached Dr. Madeline Fenton.”

Damian cleared his throat lightly, “Hello Dr. Fenton. I am Damian Wayne and I’m calling to-”

He was instantly cut off by a shrill voice, “Oh, Mr. Wayne is calling Sweetie, looks like our grant is finally approved!” Dr. Fenton said to someone else. Damian’s brows knitted in confusion, surely they had met Father multiple times in the two weeks he had stayed in their town. They ought to know the owner of Wayne Enterprise was Bruce Wayne, not his thirteen year old son Damian Wayne. Furthermore, their association through being parents of Daniel should incline them to believe there could be other reasons for the Waynes to contact them. Dr. Fenton spoke through the phone again, “Mr. Wayne, if you don’t mind me asking, which of our research papers proved to you that your investment would be in good hands?”

“I am not calling about any research grants.” Damian corrected. He waited for the doctor to say something, when the other end of line remained silent, he continued, “I was calling to inquire more about your research practices.” Damian hesitated at the proclamation, testing the waters with how blunt he could be. If they questioned him, he could use his age as a defense.

“I see.” Dr. Fenton nodded, her tone much more maintained now. “Well, go ahead.” They hadn’t questioned Damian’s intentions, and did not even seem suspicious about it.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been working with Dalv Co. for two years now.” He began, confident they wouldn’t question how he was privy to this information.

“That’s correct.” Damian could hear some shuffling through the phone.

“You seem to have no other employer before that, but you and your husband still have many published research papers dating further than your current employer. How were you able to conduct your research without an employer?” Damian tried to add some authority in his voice so they wouldn’t disregard him from his age.

There was a breath of silence before Dr. Fenton spoke up again, “Oh yes, we conducted our own research. We had a research facility in our basem*nt, an at-home-office of sorts.” She laughed lightly at her own comparison. Her voice was distant and away from the phone, like she was indeed in something else. The light dismissal irked Damian, but he continued on.

“You have two children who lived with you during most of that time, correct?”

“Hm.” She hummed affirmatively. Obviously losing interest in the conversation.

“Most of your research is done with various chemicals that could very potentially have lasting impacts on developing children.” Damian recalled Daniel's medical file and his development of premature bradycardia. “Were your children involved in your research?” He asked finally.

“Oh well, we always made sure to take the proper precautions. And of course, Jazz never even went down there even though we had plenty of hazmat suits made for her.” Dr. Fenton explained graciously without getting mad.

Damian waited for her to speak of Daniel but his turn never seemed to come. So he prompted, “And your son. Daniel?” Not able to stop his lips from twisting down in displeasure.

“Oh yes, well he did love to explore and we couldn’t keep him out for long.” She sighed into the phone, “We always made sure he wore his equipment whenever he was cleaning or looking at stuff so it was fine. Why do you ask?”

Based on Dr. Fenton’s tone, Daniel likely was not actively involved in the research. But having actually conversed with the woman who had raised Father and Mother’s first born, he wondered what Daniel’s upbringing had been like. Had their behavior simply turned dismissive only after it was revealed that Daniel was not their real son or had it always been that way? “I was simply curious.” Damian answered dryly.

Dr. Fenton chuckled at that, “You're quite the charming fellow.” She paused, “What did you say your name was again?” She was much closer to the phone than she had been for the majority of the conversation.

“Damian Wayne.”

“What a coincidence. That was Danny’s dad’s last name too.”

Damian peered at the phone like it had been the one to concoct that absurd statement. “Yes, that is my father.” He managed to say, civilly.

“You and Danny have the same father?” Was this woman truly a researcher?

“Yes.” Damian gritted.

“Oh.” Dr. Fenton stretched in recognition, “For a moment I thought you meant ‘Wayne’ like Wayne Enterprise.” She laughed to herself.

“Yes I did. My father owns the company.” Damian was not sure who was granting him this patience, but it was spending it at a rapid rate.

“Danny’s father owns Wayne Enterprise?” She repeated, surprised. How could she have not known this? Father had not hidden his identity when meeting them and had even gone the lengths to appease the Mansons and Masters while he was there. If she, despite that, had truly not known who Father truly was, had not made any effort to dull the mystery, effectively letting two unknown men take their son away. It had only gotten cleared up when Damian had called her. “Well it was lovely talking to you. Tell your father to look into our research grant-” Damian would do no such thing. “-when you see him.” Without waiting for any confirmation on Damian’s end, the call ended.

“Ridiculous.” Damian could not help but remark to the dark screen of his phone as he turned off the recording device. To conclude Damian’s initial query, Daniel had not been included in the research by the Fentons, but they hardly seemed to have a close enough reign on matters to make a trustworthy judgment. Luring that information from Daniel himself would require more finesse than he had needed with Dr. Fenton, lest he become suspicious of Damian.

A knock at the door disrupted his thoughts. “Dami, Alfred says it’s time for dinner.” Daniel’s voice filtered through the door. He had yet to stop calling Damian by the infantilizing nickname despite his insistence.

Damian huffed as he pushed himself off his bed, and made his way to the door. “Daniel.” He said venomously, looking up to meet his blue eyes.

“Dami.” Daniel smiled pleasantly, not backing down. “Alfred’s waiting.” He gestured to the direction of the stairs.

Brushing past him, Damian walked the familiar path to the dining room. He heard a light chuckle behind him as Daniel’s footfalls echoed lightly behind his. Father was the only one in the dining room when they arrived, apart from Alfred, of course.

“Looks like it’s just us.” Daniel commented quietly, electing to sit next to Damian instead of his usual seat further down the table or Richard’s empty seat on Father’s other side. Damian frowned at Daniel as he took his next to him as he would have if it were anyone else, but Damian found that he was not as repulsed by his presence as he might have previously assumed. Not that he enjoyed Daniel sitting next to him, he would much prefer if he took his usual seat. It did not escape Damian that Daniel made a choice between him and Father, even if it were just seats at the dinner table.

Dinner went as usual, Father asked about their day and shared his own. The rule of not discussing cases at the dinner table had been implemented lengths further than before Daniel’s arrival, much to Alfred’s pleasure. With no one for Daniel to continue his usual chatter with, the table fell into silence. Alfred came around to dutifully collect their plates once they had finished their meals. Damian was about to take his leave when he noticed that Daniel had made no moves of leaving the dinner table yet.

“What is it Danny?” Father asked, eyebrows digging into each other as he faced the boy curiously.

Daniel hesitated to speak, hands wringing nervously in his lap. Perhaps Damian had misinterpreted the source of his silence. Daniel looked up to meet Father’s eyes, “Um, I was just wondering- if, um.” He kneaded his lips together trying to find the words.

“I’m listening.” Father prompted softly.

Damian watched curiously as Daniel firmed his shoulder, “Well since, you said before, that Damian and I had the same mother.” Father took in a breath sensing where the conversation was headed, but maintained his face of open attentiveness. “I mean, I haven’t really seen much of her, I guess, or she’s not really around.” Daniel tried hesitantly, “I was just wondering, I guess, um…” He finally trailed off, knowing Father had understood his sentiment.

“Mother is not dead.” Damian said quickly, before Father could potentially sully her name in the lies he was about to concoct.

Father looked at him in what Damian knew to be a silent warning. “Yes, your mother is not dead, Danny.” He laughed lightly, trying to brush off Damian’s possibly insinuating tone. “We, simply,” Father paused trying to find the words, “don’t see eye-to-eye on many things. Of course we knew that before we got into a relationship, but, well, emotions are as blinding as they are fleeting.” Damian frowned at that, but kept his silence as Father continued. “Your mother lives in a different country, which is where Damian grew up before he moved in with us. It would be difficult for her to make the trek here and back repeatedly as you can imagine.” Father tried in a tone of sympathy.

Daniel reminded Damian of their mother in the way that he studied Father; memorizing the mannerisms their opponent spoke and moved with. Damian could not understand why Father and Richard insisted on underestimating Daniel for his lack of formal training, it only served to show how much larger of a threat Daniel could pose. Damian needed to remain vigilant. Daniel nodded at Father’s explanation, and asked no further questions. Daniel always asked questions. It was the basis on which his disastrously budding relationship with Drake had been founded. But unlike every lesson Father had given Damian in his time as Robin, he did not account for this and remained blindly unaware of Daniel’s potential suspicions on his explanation of Mother.

Father excused himself to the Cave not much later after dinner, his most recent case seemed to be providing him some grief and he had implied that he would be conducting research instead of patrolling. For that reason, Damian had been the one assigned to divert Daniel’s attention from the slue of absences in the Manor as well as make sure he did not put himself in harm's way. Father had left Damian and Daniel in the foyer as he made his way up the stairs to take the secondary entrance to the Cave that Father had installed in his office.

Daniel stood next to Damian, the suspicious silence from earlier still clinging to him. Deciding to take the initiative, Damian turned to Daniel, “I challenge you to a rematch.” He declared, chin tilted up to show his confidence.

Daniel blinked at him owlishly, “Rematch for what?” He asked confused. Damian had successfully distracted him from his thoughts concerning Mother.

“I will admit, the football match you challenged me to last time had not gone as leisurely as I may have anticipated.” Damian crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. “I have since reflected on the experience,” Daniel could do without the information of Damian’s training for the past 10 days. “I would like to challenge you, formally, to a rematch.”

The side of Daniel’s lip curved in an expression that would have been self-satisfaction if it had not been betrayed by the look in his eyes- almost akin to excitement. Of course that couldn’t be right. Daniel was a threat to Damian’s position in the family as much as Damian was to Daniel. Perhaps Damian could not challenge him to a duel like he could with Father’s other potential heirs, but he would still prove his superiority to Daniel while maintaining the guidelines of the mission. “You think you can beat me, huh?” Daniel questioned challengingly, the smile not leaving his face.

“I know I can.” Damian insisted.

Daniel laughed in response. Damian did not sense any mocking in his tone so he decided to let it pass. “I’ll go grab the ball.” He said heading to the stairs.

“That won’t be necessary.” Damian interjected, “I’ve already prepared beforehand.” Setting up the battlegrounds, when possible, was one of the best advantages one could have over their opponent.

Daniel seemed to take in stride, “Lead the way, Boss.” He stood at attention with a mock salute. Damian scoffed at the show, lips threatening to tilt upwards. How insolent.

True to his word, Daniel followed a few paces behind Damian, while Damian retrieved the equipment from where he’d kept it. Despite the coming winter, the sun still provided sufficient light to see their surroundings despite the incoming clouds. “I’ve considered the perimeters of our duel.” Damian began, letting the ball drop to the ground before his feet. Daniel nodded attentively “Since it will be only us, we can conduct a one on one match following the regular rules of the sport. I trust you’re already familiar with them. I’ve set up goals for us beforehand and the first to 5 points will be deemed the victor. Any objections.”

“Nope.” Daniel grinned.

The duel was a challenging one for Damian, indeed. Despite all his practice and training beforehand, there was still a clear disparity in their skill. Daniel was faster than Damian, and his precision with the ball was much more advanced. A marker of his time and dedication to the sport, no doubt. Nevertheless, Damian kept his eyes glued to the ball, following Daniel’s foot movements and pacing evenly enough to keep up. Despite Damian having the ball in the beginning, Daniel had been quick to swipe it between his feet when Damian had kicked it out from his reach. It had taken Damian some time before he had been able to regain the object from Daniel, but he fared much better than the first time they had competed. Careful to not repeat his mistake from earlier, Damian dribbled the ball between his feet while blocking Daniel from stealing it again. The net clear in front of him was unobstructed, and Damian took the shot. The black and white blur of the ball spun into the back portion of the net marking Damian’s first point on Daniel and the first point of the match.

Watching his victory, pride flooded through Damian. The sprint both sons had been locked in slowed into a light jog at the point both stopping a few feet from the net. Damian turned to Daniel as they both caught their breath, intent on declaring his superiority in skill, but Daniel spoke before he could. “That was amazing, Damian. Good job.”

The jeer on Damian’s tongue died at those words. “Tch,” He turned away from the older boy and his happy smile despite his loss to retrieve the ball. Before he had made it to the net a bright flash went off, blinding Damian. Alarmed Damian turned to it, only to find Alfred with a small camera in his hands. A pleased smile was on his face as examined his handiwork. “Pennyworth.” Damian acknowledged, intending an explanation.

“Master Bruce asked that I keep an eye on you two, lest you engage in anything less than safe. I am simply gathering proof that he need not be worried. I’m sure the Young Masters will understand.” There was a mischievous twinkle in the butler’s eye as he spoke, and Damian suspected that his explanation may not be entirely truthful.

“I wanna see.” Daniel proclaimed. The curious look on his face seemed to have infected Damian as well. Alfred handed the camera to Daniel without fuss, who held it low enough for Damian to be easily able to view the picture. It captured the scene right after Daniel congratulated Damian’s on his score, both of them standing close, hair tousled in their movements. Damian had not realized he had been smiling.

“We don’t have time for a photoshoot, Alfred. This is a serious battle.” Damian proclaimed as he turned away from the camera and headed to retrieve the ball.

“Of course, Young Master Damian. I apologize for the intrusion. Would you like for me to return with drinks?”

Damian’s ear burned at the teasing tone in the butler’s tone. “Do as you wish.”

“I will return shortly then.” He turned to head back inside the Manor.

The duel was reignited when Daniel’s foot moved to steal the ball from Damian again. This time Damian managed to deflect the attack, trying to shoot for another score. Daniel was quick to block the ball before it made it into the net, redirecting it to be his own point.

The duel was cut short when rain began pouring quite heavily. Thunder had threatened the sky earlier and it hadn’t been completely unexpected. Regardless, Damian couldn’t help but be disappointed at their unfinished battle. “I had four points and you only had two. But since neither of us were able to meet the requirements of victory, I suppose it shall be concluded in a draw.” Damian proclaimed as Alfred shut the door behind them, the sound of the storm being muted behind the barrier.

“Well you clearly had more points than me, so that means you win. Even if we weren’t able to get to five.” Daniel offered, taking a sip of his apple juice.

Damian considered his words over his own glass of milk, “That would be dishonorable.” He explained, meeting the blue eyes of his rival. “We will simply need to duel under a more welcoming environment.”

Daniel seemed surprised by Damian’s answer, but it melted into a much softer expression. “It was an honor to duel with you, Dami.”

Damian looked away at the words. It was still quite early in the night and it would be irresponsible of him to leave Daniel unattended. Damian had a mission to accomplish after all. Pushing aside any personal reservations he may have held (Damian was not yet ready to admit that there had been no reservations), “We could duel another way. The media room should be empty during this time, there are many online games to choose from.”

“A video game challenge, huh?” Daniel considered tentatively. Damian’s stomach churned at the potential of being turned down, but he kept his face neutral. “I’m pretty good at video games, so it might not be so easy for you to win.” He said confidently.

Damian peered at him, “Let’s see how that claim holds up under scrutiny.” he smirked, making his way to the media room. Damian grabbed two controllers from the drawer before Daniel had made his way to the room. “Here.” Damian absentmindedly handed the boy the red and black controller with Robin’s signature R etched into the top center of it, taking the Batman one for himself.

Daniel blinked at the controller owlishly, “Did you mean to give me the other one?” He asked after a while, making a gesture to display the colors on the controller to Damian.

“Do not do Robin a disservice with a miserable loss.” Damian huffed instead of answering.

Daniel looked at Damian for a long moment, “Since you were in the lead for the soccer match, why don’t you pick the game.” He finally said.

The screen displayed Damian’s third win, marking it their discrepancy duel a tie. The animation danced on the screen as Damian finally declared he was bored of this game. “Do you wanna pick a different one?” Daniel offered placatingly.

“No.” Damian sighed, not making any movements to leave despite the excuse of needing to go to bed was easily applicable given the time. “Daniel.” Damian called quietly.

“Yes?” His hair scratched against the leather of the couch to face Damian.

Damian braced himself, “Are you aware of the Anti-Ecto Act?”

If Daniel had been surprised by the question he didn’t show it, “Yeah.” He admitted, waiting for Damian to elaborate.

“What do you think of them?” Damian tried to ask innocently, as if he had only come across the term and had not spent hours researching them.

Daniel’s expression lacked the usual ease and warmth Damian had grown used to seeing when he spoke, “They’re just a way for the government to excuse their research on non-human creatures. It deems anyone with an ecto-signature non-sapient, which is ridiculous because every living thing has one. Just because it’s not traceable, it doesn't mean it’s not there.” How would Daniel have known that? “They’re in direct opposition of the meta-rights act that was passed a few years before them. A work around for people who know where to look.” Disdain was obvious in his words.

“I looked into the Fentons.” Damian found himself admitting. “They didn’t have the same reservations as you on the matter.”

“They don't.” Daniel's voice was quiet.

“They had a research lab in your basem*nt.” Damian said, not sure why the conversation suddenly turned so directionless on his part. Daniel just nodded, knowing Damian understood the implications.

Daniel refused to look at Damian when he admitted it, and the slight frown on his lips and sadness in his eyes made it clear to Damian that the attitude that the woman who claimed to be Daniel’s mother seemed to have on the phone with Damian had not been reserved for strangers who integrated them about their work. Despite the confirmation that Daniel had not been directly involved in the research, an annoyed irritation swam in Damian’s chest at his new realization. He would have to share his findings with Drake by the morning.

When Damian finally returned to his room, he had no intentions of sleeping despite what he may have told Daniel. The case could not be furthered much more on his own so Damian was forced to wait until Drake returned from patrol to not raise suspicion from the others. Aimlessly sitting on his bed, Damian’s attention was caught by the blindingly white canvas in the portion of his room he dedicated to his artistry. The picture Alfred had taken came to his mind. Paint and charcoal marred the version of the image in Damian’s mind; the football nets buried behind bushes of pink camellia and day-lilies with the point Damian had scored still sitting in his side of the net.

That was amazing, Damian. Good job.

Sleep did not seem keen to welcome him, but the canvas beckoned for his attention.

---

The next morning provided the perfect opportunity for Damian to enlist Drake into his case. It was no secret that Daniel and Drake tended to spend many hours of their free time together, but when the ex-Robin entered the dining room for breakfast alone, Damian knew it was his best opportunity. Alfred had easily explained that Daniel had prior arrangements that morning and would not be returning until afternoon. Pennyworth was not keen to explain what the “prior arrangements” were despite Drake’s questioning. It seemed Daniel had not responded to the calls or texts he had been sent either.

Damian slowed his eating pace so that he and Drake would finish their meals at a similar time despite his earlier start. It took Drake to be halfway up the stairs to notice that Damian had been shadowing him. “What do you want, Brat?” He asked with annoyance.

Damian clicked his tongue in irritation, “I’ve noticed Daniel’s absence from the burden of your presence.”

“You heard Alfred. He had somewhere to be.” Drake frowned at him, using the added height of the stairs to look down on Damian, “You can ask him when he gets back, if it’s bothering you so much.” Drake glanced back to his phone, likely to check if Daniel had responded to his attempted communication yet.

“Daniel is capable enough to handle himself, he does not require you as his proxy.” Damian crossed his arms in indignation. This was proving to be more difficult and humbling than Damian had intended for. Drake raised an expectant eyebrow at him but did not refute Damian’s statement. With no one nearby, “I would-” Damian gritted his teeth, “like to request your assistance on a case I am working on.”

Drake blinked at him in surprise, “You want me to help you?” Suspicion heavy in his tone, “Why not Dick or Bruce?”

Did he truly have to spell it out for him? “You have the most applicable expertise on the matter.” Damian admitted, annoyed.

Drake tilted his head in shock, amusem*nt playing at his lips at Damian’s words. “What’s the case about?”

“It’s only on a need-to-know basis. You must agree to my conditions first.”

“Yeah whatever, Brat. I’ll help if you need me to.”

“I do not need your help.” Damian balked. How dare he assume as such. “I could do it on my own, if I so desired.” He lied.

Drake waved his hand flippantly in the air, as if shooing away Damian’s words, “Tell me what the case is.” He pressed with a laugh, “I’ll work it with you.”

Their work continued with minimal arguing (in comparison to their regular amount) until Father had summoned them all for an emergency meeting. It seemed he had finally managed a breakthrough on his case and required their assistance to neutralize the new threat. Alfred had informed them that Daniel was due to return any moment, so Father had made their meeting point one of the Manor’s lesser used rooms instead of the Cave, as was protocol.

Everything had been going as planned until footsteps approached their meeting place with a vigor Damian had never known Pennyworth to possess. A silence draped the room as Daniel came into view in the doorway, excitement ready to spill from every ounce of his presence. No sooner had the room registered his presence that it all seemed to evaporate from him and a much more restrained smile was pushed onto his face. Daniel’s eyes flashed in Todd’s direction for a moment before he spoke with an artificial cheer, “Have you guys seen Alfred?” Whatever contents had been in his hand was deposited smoothly into his back pocket.

“I believe he said he would be tending to the garden.” Father said unapologetically dismissively. The room remained silent.

“Oh, yeah.” His footsteps were paced faster than normal, but the anticipation that had weighed them earlier were notably absent. Damian felt uncomfortable in the plush chair he had chosen as Father continued with the briefing.

“Y’know it’s only a matter of time. He’s not stupid.” Todd spoke when no one made any movements to leave the room once Father had finished. “He found out Clark was a meta before we even got to his office. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already on to us.” Todd pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on for the majority of the meeting.

“He knows Clark is Superman?” Father's eyes widened in shock. Damian did not find himself empathizing with Father’s surprise

Annoyance resonated in Todd's words, “Seriously? That’s your takeaway?” He crossed his arms with a glare. “He found out Clark has super hearing, because someone forgot to tell Boy Scout that Danny has a slightly irregular heart rate.”

“You’re making a mistake underestimating him, Father.” Damian finally added, remembering the conversation the three shared about Mother the day before. The words spilled from Damian before he was able to ponder on them, “He may be your son, but do not forget that Daniel is also my brother. Todd is right, it is only a matter of time.” The weight of the wide eyed stares his statement had earned him made Damian’s ears burn and his stomach churn with a feeling not unlike nausea.

“He’s not going to find out, guys.” Richard was quick to ease the rising tension in the room, “And besides, it’s for his own good. We talked about this.”

Todd scoffed, “Whatever, I’m out.” He left, having had enough of the conversation.

“For his good?” Drake stood as well, “Or yours?” He sent a heated look in Richard and Father’s direction. The meeting was adjourned without the air of confidence they often shared before their missions.

Chapter 21: < a very in depth recap >

Chapter Text

in amity:

• • Chicago Incident?danny was saved from unmentioned event by fright knight and firebolt
  • Firebolt: a ghost friend danny made while staying in the ghost zone for an extended period of time
  • Dr. Collin Kilye: geneticist; was the one who swapped danny from wayne to fenton; og fenton baby is dead by mysterious causes; bruce and talia (publicly: clarissa king) divorce
  • nightwing was the one investigating the case; he’s sorting through the files and finds danny’s and is like ?! and immediately books it to amity without telling anyone; bruce is not happy about this
  • dick gets to amity and tells bruce it’l be mad sus if he shows up and bruce is all huffy about it; dick ends up seeing danny sneaking out of sam’s house and follows him around to see if it was his danny; thinks he’s in a gang but were actually throwing tucker a surprise party; sends bruce a pic of him
  • after the bday party, danny crashes at wes’s place to avoid his parents until dinner that he has to be at; jazz tells danny that they got a present so he has to go The Mall to get them a present
  • at the mall danny is attacked by some rouges and nightwing is there; figured out nightwing was there bc the kilye case and does not want to be involved
  • “Ever since Danny finally accepted his (future) position as the King of the Infinite Realms’ most ghosts don’t bother attacking him anymore. He had brought it up with Pandora during one of their training sessions, and she had told him that although ghosts bond through fighting there was the matter of respect, and most ghosts would not be so easy to challenge him anymore. Though that apparently didn’t last long since ghost politics were just as bad as it was in the living realm. As word had spread of Pariah’s defeat and Phantom’s recent rise to the throne, Plasmius had taken the time to sow the seeds of a rebellion. His intent for the throne caused a faction to form. Fortunately, most ghosts were still on Phantom’s side since he was the first and only one to earn the crown from Pariah who’d held it for the past several eons. For those that opposed him, Princess Dora had pointed out that they don’t necessarily believe Plasmius is a good fit either, and if they were to defeat Phantom somehow it would likely surge the Realms into another era of chaos and disorder.” - chap 3
  • after the mall dick follows danny to his parents place where it’s revealed that they’ve been offered a postion by vlad co in thr Caribbean and are going to accept and want danny to live with vlad since he offered; danny does not want to and tries to say he’ll stay with his aunt until then; immediately leaves back to wes’s house
  • in an effort to cheer him up and “meet” him; dick pretends to be their pizza guy; the next morning calls go out about the swap
  • meanwhile bruce is hella in his feels about finding out thomas (danny) isnt dead; thinks he’s cursed to ruin his kids lives but for some reason they keep coming back; has been obsessively cooped in his office and tim is kinda sused
  • morning calls go out: fentons called danny a bunch and are kinda uncaring(/neg) about the switch and send him parents phone number; gang freaks out when they find out it’s bruce’s
  • danny texts bruce and bruce (and clark) - does not go covenantally; bruce decides to break the news to the others; damian does not take it well (thinks he’s supposed to be a placeholder for whenever danny shows up as the first born to take his spot) and everyone is a little unnerved
  • bruce and dick get invited to dinner w the fentons; danny clocks dick = nightwing immediately and eventually figures out that bruce is probably batman; bruce finds out that he’s met danny before (vlad brought him to galas w him) and is not taking it well; danny freaks out bc he thinks they’re mad at him
  • danny is hanging out with bruce and dick at the nasty burger; bruce apologizes; team phantom crashes their little party and interrogate bruce and dick; adam thinks danny and wes are dating. they are not
  • danny is incredibly sussed out by how nice bruce and dick are being to him; and decide to try and get on their nerves; is washy about plans and then flakes without telling them while spying as phantom
  • dick and bruce’s over protective dad/brother mode goes into fight or flight when they find out no one knows where danny is; in an effort to find him they go to vlad’s where dick runs into sam and tucker and has to make the excuse of having dinner with him soon and bruce makes plans so that they don’t seem weird. phantom shows up and tries to gauge dick
  • dick realizes that danny and phantom are probably friends and once phantom finds out dick isn’t a threat tells them where danny is
  • they end up going to the planetarium; and bruce gives danny his father’s favorite watch as a late 15th birthday present; dick warns him that damian probably wouldn’t take that info well but bruce doesn’t see the problem
  • “Why are you giving this to me?”; “Because you’re my son.”; “Thank you.”; “Always.”
  • “Damian is not going to be too happy about that.” ; “I doubt Damian even knows about the watch.”; “If you say so.” Dick said disbelievingly, “Damian may be Talia’s son, but he’s yours too.”; “And so is Danny.” ; “When this blows up in your face, I reserve the right to say I told you so.”
  • in a convo with danny’s old babysitter: danny brings up that he’s moving to gotham
  • meets danny’s friend names “lucas” who’s very strange
  • the three of them go to dinner with vlad; vlad finds out danny is not bio-fenton and actually wayne’s son; the spector deflector danny designed for dick is broken by the time they go home

in gotham:

• • danny does not like being in chicago while they go the airport; danny starts freaking out when he can’t tell where bruce is going (bruce has a private plane)
  • on the plane danny hypothesizes the rest of the waynes are the bats; and is quickly proven right; they still are completely unaware danny even has an inkling
  • tim is decidedly going to be firm and intimidating when danny comes so there is not a repeat of the Damian Incident; are left alone for less than 5 minutes and immediately end up becoming friends
  • they have a full house (by alfred’s decree) at dinner. Danny is getting along with everyone and is able to keep his powers on the down low despite the ghosts that come w every generational home.
  • until jason arrives, and he tries fighting his ghost sense. it does not work. he ices a glass on accident. everyone: omg ur a meta!; danny: what do you mean- yes! i am infact a meta, that is a perfectly reasonable conclusion to a person havign powers and it’s not bc im part ghost.
  • danny isn’t sure what jason’s deal is
  • damian is initially very suspicious of danny and does not like him; he bugs danny’s room and listens to his convo with jazz
  • damian is looking into the fentons (for research purposes only) and finds the anti-ecto acts. decides to take the case opon himself until he reaches a roadblock and forced to parter with tim.
  • damian and danny run into each other in the garden; and damian in an effort to have a seemingly amicable relationship converses with danny; danny tricks damian into playing soccer with him
  • “Before we start, there's one thing we need to make clear. It’s Danny not Daniel.”; “Daniel.” Damian defied.; Daniel huffed at Damian’s defiance. Victory was always sweet. “Then, Dami.”; “What- do not call me by such a childish nickname.” ;“I’ll only call you Damian if you call me Danny.”; Defeat was bitter, but it tasted better with your enemies. “Daniel.”; “Let’s start the game then, Dami.”
  • damian may have possible potentially not completely hated it the whole entire time
  • the first night danny stays at the manor he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep and goes downstairs; runs into alfred; danny ends up joinging him for a tour/ keeping him company while he cleans up
  • danny finds a really old pic of martha, thomas and baby bruce. the emotions in the painting start effecting him and he’s almost lost in a trance until Alfred manges to ground him in reality; danny accidentally started icing the whole room
  • alfred takes danny to a very secluded location in the garden, where Thomas Wayne Jr.’s grave is kept.
  • Danny’s grave.; It was his grave Danny realized. Even if his body hadn’t been buried underneath it. It was his grave in emotion and thought. It was him that they mourned.; Danny had been mourned.; Thomas Wayne Jr. Beloved Son February 12, 20XX - February 23, 20XX; Beloved son. Would his parents have put that on his grave? Had Danny been a son to them?; Danny had been somebody’s son. Somebody’s beloved son.; Danny looked at the patch of thinning grass. He had learned that only happened when people took the same path for a really long time back on Aunt Alicia’s farm during summer breaks in grade school. The grass thinned because people walked on it a lot.; Danny had been loved. And he had been mourned.; Danny had a grave.; Danny had a grave all this time.; “Hey, man.” Danny greeted, his voice croaking out of his throat, as he crouched into a squat. The grave marker was in pristine condition, nothing but the wear and tear of the weather marred it. Danny dusted off some loose dirt from its surface. His voice cracked, and salt water poured down his cheeks. “Crazy meeting like this, huh?”; Danny had a home this whole time like all the other ghosts.
  • danny’s interaction with alfred + the grave influences him to go full Wayne with his last name
  • jason has very conflicting feels about danny and he does not like it or understand where they’re coming from; alfred asks jason to take danny to his interview with clark
  • on the drive to metropolis, danny decides that jason is trustworthy and is very relaxed around him
  • danny meets clark; clark freaks out abt danny’s heartbeat; danny is confused until he realizes that clark has super hearing and immediately clocks him as superman; danny goes public about his ice
  • post-interview; jason takes danny out for burgers; jason gives danny peptalk, danny feels comforted and seen
  • danny asks jason about his hair and finds out that jason fortunately is aware that he died, and tells jason about his friend phantom
  • jason tries to tell danny about talia; danny doesn’t realize and gets distracted
  • post metropolis trip; danny sends phantom to visit jason and tell him all the deets of being kinda ghostly; phantom’s ghost-kinglyness has an effect on Jason
  • phantom tells jason that danny knows abt their ids already; jason does not confront danny about this information and proceeds to act as if danny didn’t know; because f*ck bruce and dick for not telling him
  • “Ghost-formation-ectoplasm has to make the core. Since ghost’s don’t have conventional organs, it serves as the heart, brain, and soul of the ghost. As you can imagine, it’s pretty important, and is heavily influenced by the emotions at death. Each ghost has a distinctly different core, which is where ecto-signatures come from.”; danny finds out abt the lazurus pits
  • tim feels bad that danny doesn’t know they’re the bats; but understands why the need to keep it a secret for now
  • tim learns more abt the capability’s of danny’s ice; “If it’s hot on the outside, my ice isn’t as strong, but I can keep going for longer because I won’t, like, freeze. If it’s colder, then the ice is a lot stronger, but I probably couldn’t maintain it for too long.” ; “What do you mean, ‘freeze’?”; “I guess, well, things get slower when the environment is cold. If the environment,” Danny gestured to his whole body, “gets too cold then things,” He pointed to his heart, “would get slower.”;
  • tim and danny are working on something together; when tim tries to get danny’s attention and danny doesn’t notice tim grabs danny by the wrist; danny freaks out and his first reaction is to attack tim; tim realizes danny has a thing about his wrists being touched
  • danny get’s electrocuted barley and passes out; tim checks his pulse on his neck instead of his wrist
  • danny is kinda put off by how he was brushed off for a case they were all working on; and tim finds him later as red robin and they have a little heart to heart
  • danny took one of jason’s old motorcycles; tim notices that danny is close with red hood
  • tim tricks the bats to show up for the game danny tried to invite them to
  • damian is deeper into his research with the anti-ecto acts and the GIW, and decides to call the fentons to see what they would tell him; he is not happy with how they talk about danny
  • danny, damian and bruce are the only ones at dinner. danny brings up the fact that thier mom is never around; bruce tries to cover it up they just had a bad break up; danny is a little sused
  • damian has been practicing soccer so he could beat danny
  • damian is able to overcome his art block after his day with danny

Chapter 22: all for the games

Chapter Text

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After much back and forth, an hour long group call Danny had finally convinced Sam, Tucker, Val, and Wes that telling people he was an ice meta was not a suicidal decision. Well, Tucker and Wes had mostly been on his side from the beginning, it had been Sam and Val who thought he was trying to pin the GIW on himself. Sighing to himself, Danny collapsed into the bed, sinking into the plush mattress. His phone vibrated in his hand with a call.

“Seriously guys-” He mumbled to himself, pulling the phone up, surprised by the caller ID “Adam?” Answering, Danny puts the phone up to his ear. “Hey Adam.” Danny started cheerily.

“How ya’ been Danny?” Adam greeted happily, the sound of cars whistling past on his end of the phone. He must not be home yet.

“I’ve been great! Supposed to start at some rich kid school in a few days, I’ve been kinda nervous about that.” Danny admitted honestly sitting up now.

Adam's laugh blended in with the sound of a door opening, “Don’t ‘chu go worryin’ about those kids. I met enough of ‘em to know you got twice the brain any of them have.” The cars were more distant now, but Adam’s feet hit the floor heavily. He must’ve going up stairs.

“You think so?”

“Know so.”

“You on your way home now?” Danny paced around the large open space of his room as he spoke, periodically eyeing the listening device that was still in the vents.

“Yeah.” Adam sighed heartily, “Had a project I needed ta’ start crackin' at.” Keys jiggled distantly and there was the sound of a door unlocking.

“Already? Didn’t classes start two weeks ago?”

“Ain’t it just the life?” Adam laughed sardonically, there was some shuffling before he spoke again. His tone shifted away from the jovial chipperness that almost seemed like a permanent quality in his voice, to a more tentative and serious tone, “I saw your interview with ‘em Metropolis folk earlier.”

“Oh, yeah.” Danny laughed, “Wes gave me an earful about that.” He waited to see what Adam was poking at.

“I got my share of it, believe me.” Adam huffed in a fond annoyance that made Danny smile. “Listen, Danners, I got the morning off tomorrow. No class, no work. Think you wanna catch the sights with me?”

The old nickname sounded strange with the nervousness that Danny could sense in his tone. Adam was never nervous, in fact, he had a faulty calmness about him. Danny couldn’t help but wonder what had him on edge like that, “Yeah. You got a place in mind?” He agreed easily.

“I’ll come pick you up. How’s 11 sound?”

“You sure? I heard we’re kinda outta the way.” Bristol, where Wayne Manor was, Danny had learned, was outside of the city but still considered in Gotham for more of the symbolism of it, something about the Royal Gotham Family or something. It had become pretty evident the few times he had gone out.

“It’ll be my excuse to see your place. Heard some crazy things about it, y’know.” Adam said more chipper now, but there was still something off about his tone that Danny couldn’t quite catch. With a promise of spending the day together tomorrow, Adam ended the call.

Danny knew that Adam wanted to talk to him about something. In the way his tone shifted, it was obvious it was something Adam thought required some face to face. Danny was thankful for it, given the ears and eyes he had to hide from in the Manor when certain topics were broached. Danny explained to Alfred and Bruce that a friend of his would be coming by and they were gonna spend the day in the city over breakfast. They were fortunately pretty easy going about the matter, and told him to call them if anything went wrong or felt like it was gonna go wrong or if he needed money, or if he needed a ride back, or if he was hurt, or if- “There’s an Adam here for you, Young Master Danny.”

Grabbing his phone from the table, “Don’t take things from strangers,” Bruce tried to prattle on as he and Alfred followed him to the door, “Even if they tell you it’s safe, and steer clear of anyone wearing a mask that’s not for medical reasons, and if there's a gaseous substance in the air- do you have a gas mask?”

“I’m going downtown, Bruce, not a war zone.” Danny tried to placate, unable to hide his laugh, taking the spare gas mask from Alfred, as he opened the door for him.

“Have a safe trip, Young Master Danny.”

“See you later.” Danny waved, making his way to Adam’s car.

“Alfred, do you think-” Danny caught Bruce starting before the door was fully closed and before he made it all the way down the stairs.

Alfred cut him off pointedly, “May I remind you of your job, Sir. One that you were meant to be present at an hour ago.” And the door closed with a light click.

“Your carriage awaits, Young Master.” Adam snickered in a fake-british accent as Danny slid into the passenger seat.

“Shut up.” Danny huffed, embarrassed as he clicked his seatbelt into place. Looking up, Danny realized he recognized the car. “You fixed her up?” Danny asked surprised, running his hand along the center console.

“Yup.” Adam puffed his chest in pride as they left the Manor gates. One of the clients at the mechanic shop they both worked for back in Amity brought in a car that was on its last limb. Most the guys in the shop were surprised he even managed to bring it in. The owner said he couldn’t afford the fix and it’d probably just be better for him to get a new one. Adam had gone up to him and told him he’d take it off his hands for a couple hundred. Considering the guy was gonna scrap it, he was more than happy to give it to Adam. They spent the summer before Adam left for college fixing her up. He’d taken it off with him even though a few more things needed doing. They talked about the specifics of it, and how she was doing for most of the ride into town. The conversation was light and they decided to grab a drink from a cafe and walk around near the park for a while.

There was a small lull after Adam told him about his classes while they sat on the park bench and under the shade of the smoggy clouds. “Danny.” There weren’t many people at the park even though it was midday now. Maybe it was a Gotham thing.

“Yeah?” There were a few shades and shadows floating around, that was definitely a Gotham thing. Metropolis didn’t have half as many shades, probably ‘cause the crime rates were lower there and-

“You never told me you're a meta.” Adam didn’t look at him, instead staring at the empty cup of slowly melting ice in his hands.

Danny wasn’t sure what to say. Danny trusted Adam. Just the way he trusted Jazz and Sam and Tucker and Val and Wes. “Listen Adam-” Danny tried, guilt heavy in his chest. Danny never told Adam that he was Phantom, cause it never mattered. Sure Adam would gush about the stints Phantom would pull off, but so did everyone in his class, and that just seemed so showboding. And Adam deserved to be told properly, not for some extra cool points.

“You’re Phantom aren’t you.” His Tennessee accent mixed with a bit of a Gotham twang, his tone even and serious.

He didn’t look at Danny, it would be easy for Danny to lie his way out of it, making it just a coincidence. After all, Phantom was a ghost, and Danny, to the knowledge of many, was very much alive. Phenotypically, they looked less and less alike and as time passed, it would be an easy sell. Plenty of people were metas, ice wasn’t that rare of a power. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.” Danny admitted quietly.

Adam let out a relieved sigh, either because he had been right or Danny hadn’t lied to him. Finally looking at him, “Nah, I get it. You can’t go ‘round tellin’ just anyone.” Adam tried to laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“No.” Danny said quickly, Adam blinked at his outburst. “No, the reason I didn’t wanna tell you isn’t ‘cause you were just anyone.” Danny looked at a group of boys crawling together under a tree a few feet away from them as he tried to find his words and his spine. “I told Jazz, and Tucker and Sam- well I never told Jazz she kind of figured it out- but there was always something Phantom or something ghostly happening. Y’know.” He tried weakly. “It wasn't like that with you, and I didn’t have to think about what I wasn’t doing, I guess. It was just us and cars and hockey and school and whatever else.” The excuse sounded pathetic even to Danny’s ears, and guilt twisted in his gut, but Adam took in his words.

“I had my suspicions, y’know. Never seen you two in the same room and all that, and Wes went on for hours. I figured he had some kinda weird crush on you so I didn’t think too much ‘bout it.” He grimaced at what had gone down at the Nasty Burger when the topic had finally exploded, “Guess he was right, huh?”

“You’re not mad?” Danny asked hesitantly, ignoring the teens’ conversation that only got louder.

“Nah, but you totally owe me for that.” He shoved Danny playfully with his shoulder, an easy smile on his face.

“Name your price.” Danny agreed happily.

“Imma save it for a rainy day.” Adam gave him a wicked grin, and Danny rolled his eyes.

“Ugh! I can’t believe that sh*tface-” One of the teens from under the tree yelled, outraged. His voice was loud enough to make both Adam and Danny flinch in their spots a decent distance away.

“How could he just quit like that!” Another piped up, fuming. There were sports duffle bags and other equipment carriers spread around the group.

Looking closer, Danny could notice some of their hoodies were the same with an orange and white fox design on their black hoodies. “And Right before regionals!” Danny realized he recognized the equipment carriers. He had a few of them back in middle school. When he played hockey. They were hockey equipment. Meaning those were hockey players!

Danny listened intently to their conversation. One of them said something too quiet for Danny to hear but the first guy seemed rowdy, “Don’t you tell me to calm down, McGinnis!” He pointed an accusatory finger, “He knew what we put into that line up. We could’ve beat the Robins this year.”

“He made us toss!” The second one added on. McGinnis said something again, and both boys lowered their voice, but their irritation at the situation was obvious.

Danny looked over to meet Adam’s eyes. He raised a questioning brow at Danny, who just grinned in return. Fortunately the hockey team was easy enough to find even though none of them were wearing their jerseys.

Gotham’s Arctic Foxes. They were one of the older teams in Gotham, citing to have been around at least 90 years, which explains why they didn’t stick with Gotham’s bat and bird themed mascots the other teams Danny had looked into had. After the doctor's checkup, Bruce had given Danny the go-ahead on joining whatever team he wanted and left it up to Danny to find one that he wanted to join. The only problem had been that there were so many teams in Gotham. It had been a bit intimidating, if Danny had to be honest.

The team’s gym wasn’t far from the park, which is probably why they were there in the first place. Adam tagged along as Danny asked if they had any openings for the hockey team. They handed him some paperwork to fill out.

“Figure you gotta ask your folks?” Adam asked, eyeing the forms in Danny’s hands.

Well Bruce had said Danny could join, but he wasn’t entirely sure how far that permission went. Tim had assured Danny many times that Bruce wouldn’t be so hard on him about the things he wanted to do as long as he could keep tabs on him. Gotham was a dangerous city, so it made sense. But Danny had only stayed with them for a little over a week, and he didn’t want to push any hard boundaries. It was better safe than sorry, so Danny pulled out his phone. It barely even rang before Bruce’s frantic voice came through the other side. “Danny? Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt? I’ll send Alfred- actually I’m probably closer. I’ll come get you.”

Danny sent an alarmed look to Adam who raised a curious brow since he couldn’t hear Bruce, “Um, no. I’m fine. You don’t have to come-”

“Are you sure? It’s no problem. Would you prefer someone else come? I can have Jason come get-”

“Bruce.” Danny tried to sound grounding, not sure what exactly the man was so stressed about. “I was just calling to tell you that I was going to sign up for a hockey team. Or, like, try out, I’m not sure I’ll get in yet. I just heard they had an opening.”

Bruce was silent for a moment, and Danny could hear someone try to get his attention with a “Mr. Wayne.” Was he at work? But he’d answered Danny’s call so fast?

“Oh,” Bruce sighed with a relieved laugh, “You can join any team you like, Danny. You have my card, you can put whatever payment you need on it. I can have Alfred order whatever gear you need, if you’d like.”

“No that’s fine, I'd rather pick them out myself.” Re-considering his words, “If that’s okay?”

There was another “Mr.Wayne” it was the same voice, but closer and more urgent sounding.

Bruce's voice was muffled when he spoke next, “Mr. Sher, I’m speaking to my son.” He sounded annoyed, and his tone was harder than it had been a second ago, “And if you like your position in the company, I suggest you wait until I’m done.”

There was a quiet “Yes, sir.”

So he was at work. “I didn’t know you were busy.” It’s 12:47 PM, of course he’s busy. “Sorry.”

“Oh I’m not busy. You can call me anytime.” Bruce said confidently and easily, and Danny couldn’t help but think of all the unanswered calls he’d left the past few years. “There’s no need to apologize. I hope you do well in your…” he paused, “audition.” He tried questioningly. Danny laughed lightly knowing he’d used that since Cass and Steph both did performance arts.

“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“Yup.” Danny looked down at the forms in his laps, and gave Adam a silent thumbs up. The redhead returned with all the silent cheer Danny knew him to hold. “I’ll see you at home then. Bye.”

“See you at home, Danny.” Bruce said warmly. It wasn’t until the call had already ended when Danny realized he had referred to Wayne Manor as his home.

Danny filled out the form, and remembered to correct his last name before he gave it back to the lady at the desk. She looked over it bored, until her eyes squinted suspiciously. She looked up at Danny analytically, typed something into her computer. Then she looked back and forth between the form, the computer and Danny, eyes going wide. “You’re- uh” She cleared her throat, and Danny couldn’t understand why she was suddenly so flustered. “Interested in the hockey team. Here? The hockey team here?”

“Yes.” Danny had already told her that, and he couldn’t help but feel confused. And Adam’s knowing look wasn’t helping.

“The uh- team went on a break.” She checked the watch on her wrist, “They’re not due back for another 40 minutes. The coach is still here. Mark Adrian. That’s his name- the coach’s I mean. For hockey. Um- I could give him a call and see if he’d want to see if you’d uh- be a good er- fit for the team.”

“Oh, yeah. That would be great.” Danny smiled, happy this was working out so well.

“Of course, Mr. Wayne.” The lady smiled nervously. “If you’d like to um- take a seat there, I’ll let you know.”

Wayne. Of course. Danny had completely forgotten in the mundanity of seeing Bruce so regularly, that he was Bruce Wayne. Like the richest most influential guy ever, and basically owned Gotham. Which was where Danny was now. And he was also, very publicly, Danny’s father. Because Danny was Daniel Wayne. Brother to Dick Grayson (the IT boy of the century, second only to Bruce himself), Timothy Drake-Wayne (The fastest growing name in tech since computers were invented), and Damian Wayne (the mysterious and elusive heir to Wayne Enterprises).

“Right.” Danny finally squeezed out. “Ok.” He turned away before the lady could add anything else, Adam easily catching his mood shift and was right behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked softly, sitting in the same spot he had before. The seats were far enough that Danny couldn’t catch the conversation the lady was having on the phone, which meant she couldn’t hear them either.

Danny kneaded his lips together, “What if they’re only letting me try out cause,” he trailed not finishing the sentence. His shoulders hunched inwards, and Danny’s earlier excitement of playing hockey again was already muddled.

Adam hummed thoughtfully, “They might be.” Danny frowned at the confirmation, “But they’re try-outs, Danny. If the coach, whatever his name was, only lets you on the team ‘causea who your dad is, then you ought to know this in’t the team you need to join.” He gave Danny a light shove, “‘Course I’ll be watchin’. And if your coach in’t gonna give it to ya for sucking at a sport you haven’t played in 4 years, I sure as hell will.” Danny had actually met Adam a lot earlier than he’d become friends with Wes. The Weston brothers moved to Amity when Danny and Wes were in fifth grade, and Adam was in seventh with Jazz. Danny and Wes knew of each other, but they never saw each other enough organically to become friends. Until Wes figured out that Danny was Phantom and began trailing them. Not that that was entirely organic either. Danny had met Adam earlier than that because he worked at the ice rink Danny’s team used to practice at. Eventually, Adam somehow managed to become one of the coach's assistants even though he was still in middle school, and they had a pretty decent friendship until Danny was forced to quit.

The lady’s heel tapped closer, and Danny settled for a thankful smile, and turned to see a shaggy looking man with deep gray eyes and a windbreaker in the same colors as the jerseys he’d seen earlier. He trailed behind the woman with a tired and annoyed look in his eyes, and seemed very bothered to be here. The lady reached a reasonably distance, and turned to address the man behind her, “This is Daniel W-”

“Danny, actually.” Adam was quick to cut in, leaning back in his chair easily.

“We don’t need introductions, Linda.” The man was clearly annoyed to be there, “He says wants to play hockey. I’m not gonna bother learning a useless name if he can’t even skate.” The lady, Linda, seemed horrified at the way the man was behaving.

“I know how to skate.” Danny didn’t like how childish his voice sounded. Trying to amend, he stood now that he was addressed, “I played hockey before, I was a defenseman.”

The man, presumably the aforementioned Coach Mark Adrian, eyed him appraisingly. “You said ‘played’.”

“I got into an accident a few years back and couldn't play.”

“Hm.” He nodded thoughtfully, “We happened to have recently acquired an opening.” He turned, with a small gesture for Danny to follow him, “You better be good enough to deserve ruining my break, kid.”

“My name’s Danny.” Danny jogged lightly to keep in pace.

“I don’t care if your name’s Budda.” He glanced back at Danny, “You didn’t bring any equipment.” They walked through a pair of double doors, and the temperature cooled.

“Uh,” Danny said dumbly, glancing at his empty hands as if they would appear.

“What’s your foot size?” The man walked behind the counter of the skate rentals, and handed Danny the one he needed. Once they confirmed they were the right fit, he said “Here’s a stick. You break it, and suffer the consequences. Noah’s not very forgiving.”

Despite the years since the last time Danny had played hockey properly, the warmups and exercises Coach Adrian made him do seemed to come to him naturally. Adam watched quietly from the stands. After the laps and the traveling with the puck and half court shots, Adrian finally stepped onto the ice. Tennis shoes switched out for skates, and a hockey stick in hand. “You score on me, you got the spot, no questions asked.”

Goal in mind, and in view, Danny was determined. Now that he’d actually tasted the ice shavings, and the momentum of skating that had made flying as Phantom almost second nature, there wasno way he was going to be denied. The puck was placed center court, a sharp whistle sounded, and Adrian was in motion.

Danny had intended to have the puck first, but Adrian had managed to snag it, sticks colliding. Adrian skated towards his goal, but Danny was on his tail. Within moments, they were locked in a close battle of ownership over the puck, the short seconds it was in Danny’s possession wasn’t enough for him to be able to switch to defensive. Adrian was clearly a seasoned player, but he was a veteran. And while Danny may have also been a veteran only minutes ago, he was a lot more agile and faster than the taller, larger and older man. In a split second decision, Danny, instead of attempting to steal the puck back for the umpteenth time, knocked it away from both of their reach.

Adrian was thrown off by the unorthodox and very risky play, but in the time it took him to register what had happened, Danny had slipped right under his outstretched arm towards the stray puck. Adrian spun fast, gaining on Danny, but with his headstart and speed, the puck was clean in the net before Adrian made up the distance. Pulling that play in a game with multiple players would’ve been an incredibly risky move. But since this had been a 1v1, the move had ensured Danny’s victory.

He spun around, chest heaving lightly as Adrian approached him. “Welcome to the team, Danny.” He said instead of commenting on Danny’s decision.

Danny couldn’t stop the grin that split his face.

“Is that my f*cking stick?” A boy yelled outraged from off the ice, dirty blond hair strewn messily on his head, an accusatory finger aimed at Danny.

“Stand down, Noah. I gave it to him.” Danny’s new coach vouched for him, giving him a light head gesture to follow him to the stands where the group of boys from the park had gathered,all eyeing Danny suspiciously.

Danny had barely made it to the barrier at the ice when Noah snatched the hockey stick out of his hand, “Get your own sh*t.” He hissed, green eyes venomous and turned away.

“Sorry.” Danny mumbled, the ecstasy of his victory evicted for shaky nerves and nauseous anxiety.

One of the taller boys, with dark hair and dark eyes, looked at Danny like he was a complex physics problem. He turned to coach Adrian instead of addressing Danny personally, “You let him score on you.” His voice was calm and even but that only made the accusation hit harder.

“I didn't let him do anything.” Adiran said almost offhandedly, sitting down to take his skates off, giving his calves a small massage. Turning to Danny, “Practice is everyday ‘except Tuesday and Thursdays. 11 on the weekends, 5 on school days. Have your gear by tomorrow, or don’t show up. Leave your skates on the counter, I’ll see ya when I see ya.” Coach Adrian said all in one breath, while wordlessly telling the others to gear up and hit the ice.

Danny nodded, and Adam followed him away from the crowd of at best curious, but mostly annoyed and angry eyes.

“Coach, you can’t be serious.” One of the boys said appalled, initiating the chatter of backlash.

“He’s built like a dried up fry, he's gonna crack before the ice does.”

“Prelims are in two weeks, you can’t expect him to be any good before then.”

The tall boy from earlier spoke up, and they stopped to listen. “We’ll see if he’s any good when he shows up.” A pause, his back is turned to Danny but his words are pointed like Artemis’s arrows. “If he ever does.”

Coach added after a while, his indifferent voice seemed almost gentle amongst the animosity, “We’re short a player anyway. If you want to stand any kind of chance at the preliminaries, shut your yapping and hit the ice.” There were grumbles and groans, but they were muffled by the sound of blades skidding on ice and flying shavings as the double doors swung close behind Danny.

Danny showed up to practice Sunday morning at 10:26. He’d gone to get all the gear he would need. It felt surreal to be walking into the ice rink with a bag full of hockey gear, and Danny thought that maybe things would be good for him now. Maybe he could put Chicago behind him. Maybe he could forget what it was like to feel his core crack at its seams, and the horrible sight of green dripping into his arms. Maybe Waynes didn’t have Chicagos, and maybe Danny could be like them.

The guy driving the zamboni parked the large machine to the side, dipped his head in a silent greeting and headed off. Leaving Danny alone until practice actually started. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Danny put his skates on, lacing up the too-stiff material in the pattern he always did, and waddled onto the ice. After the GIW had the martial law lockdown a few months after the Pirah Dark incident, flying around as Phantom was a risk, even invisibility wasn’t enough to cover him anymore. After the months Danny had spent in the Realms with Firebolt, he saw exactly what he would be risking when he put his neck on the line for stunts he wouldn’t have given a second thought to before. It wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. Not anymore.

But the freedom that came when gravity would finally let go of its reins was something Danny sorely missed. Every feeling, every worry would melt away lost in the dust behind him, while they were bound by the rules of physics's dictatorship, he was free. A feeling that Danny could most closely replicate on the ice. It wasn’t the same, but it was close.

Danny had been so entranced that he hadn’t even heard the doors of the ice rink open, and hadn’t realized he wasn’t alone until he spun around and was met face to face with the dark haired guy from yesterday. The curious quizzical look hadn’t seemed to have left him, his sudden presence freezing Danny in surprise. Hoping to make a good first impression, Danny decided to try to be amicable with a greeting. The boy beat him to it, sticking out a hand, “I’m Asher, or Ash. Either’s fine.” His voice had an easy drawl to it, now that he didn’t seem repulsed by Danny’s presence. His accent didn’t match the ones the others on the team had.

“I’m Danny. Nice to meet you.” Danny took his hand to shake.

There was a little laugh, “Yeah, I know. Wayne, right?” Danny nodded again, “I’m the captain, and I play for defense. My number’s 23.” Ash turned easily to face the doors when they sounded, and introduced the team members as they walked in minutes after each other. A boy almost a head taller than Danny, with unbrushed brown hair and equally dark eyes and pale skin, “That’s Benjamin Henderson, call him Benjamin or Henderson. If you call him Benji before says you can, prepare to get stabbed. He is one of the forwards for the second line, your line up.” Henderson headed straight for the bleachers and strapped his skates on, and didn’t even look in Danny’s direction when he got on the ice.

The ice rink only got more crowded with time, “That’s Keith Kartman,” Ash pointed out a dark skinned boy with ear length beaded dreadlocks, “He’s the goalkeeper. And over there,” Danny looked over at the pale kid, green eyes glaring at Danny, dark blond hair pulled out of his face in a half-updo. “Levi Evans, 65. He’ll be in the lineup with you.” Danny was becoming very aware as what looked like the whole team was notably taller than him, including the ones Ash had pointed out to be freshmen. Danny wasn’t short, he evened out with most kids in his grade, but he felt like a sapling next to the tall heaps of muscles he had decided to share a team with.

Ash had named all the other players, their positions and numbers but they had only landed in a jumbled mess in Danny’s head as he nodded along to the explanation. Most of the boys, a total of twelve not counting himself, were standing around lazily on the ice and doing familiar stretches until Coach Adrian walked in, coffee in hand. Moments later another boy ran into the room, his hopeful expression dropping as Coach turned around lazily to address him, “Y’know the drill, Hess.”

With a groan, the blond boy slipped his bag off his shoulders and dropped into a plank position. Danny must have seemed confused, since Asher leaned his head down the distance to match Danny’s height, “Coach has a hard rule that you have to show up before he does, or you plank for every minute you're late.” Danny grimaced at the thought as he followed the rest of the team through their stretches and drills.

Danny would’ve had to be deaf and blind to not notice that his new teammates weren’t particularly excited to have him on the team, but none of them had outwardly expressed anything. Mostly just sending him annoyed or dirty looks and the occasional middle finger, and kept a wide breadth between themselves and him like they wanted to make sure Danny knew he was still an outsider. Message received.

“Danny,” Coach gestured for him to come closer, singling him out from the crowd of boys. He easily skated over to him, nerves bundlinging in his stomach. Once Danny stood by his side, he silently beckoned to the crowd again. Danny hadn't been sure who it was at first, but the look of annoyance on the Henderson and Evans, who Ash had already pointed out to be his potential line members, painted the picture clearly to Danny. “You said you played defense on your old team?” Coach questioned.

“Yes, sir.” Danny put his hands behind him so his nervous fiddling wouldn’t be obvious.

“I’m putting you on the forwards, second line. We’ve recently had an opening.” Henderson clicked his tongue at that, and Evans frowned. Danny remembered the conversation from the park. He gestured to the two boys on his other side, “Get comfortable, we’ll be having a practice round.” None of the three boys moved their spots on the ice after Coach skated towards the center of the small crowd and announced the mini-teams for their practice match.

Danny, Henderson, Evans were the forwards for their team, with Samuel Hess, and Harper Barton as their defensem*n. They were playing against Ash, and his co-defender, Logan Meadows, along with Noah Skinner, Liam Waterman, and Theo Velasquez. Keith was the goalie for Danny’s team, while Ethan Hudson, one of the forwards from the third line up, was the goalie for Ash’s team. Ethan’s other line-members had been assigned to work on their drill off the ice while they played.

As the puck ran its course around the ice rink, Danny was able to pick up on the particular skills of all his teammates. Ash, he had quickly noticed, had an almost unbreakable defense and was only made better by Logan’s steady hand and back up. Danny hadn’t been able to get the puck past them easily, Keith’s incredible skills as a goalie was all that kept them at bay. Despite their incredible defense, though, Noah, Liam, and Theo had a shaky line-up. Liam had a tendency to hesitate before passing which would lose them precious seconds, and leave him open to get the puck stolen from. Noah tried to overcompensate for that by always trying to keep the puck to himself which, naturally, could only get him so far. Between the two of them, Theo, who seemingly had the most amicable distribution of ability of the lineup but lacked Noah’s ferocity, often was left in back of the pack. Ethan was clearly new to being a goalie, and while he managed to deflect a few attempts at the puck getting into the net, his movements weren’t optimal.

On his own team, Danny noticed that Evans and Henderson seemed much more comfortable passing to each other than their opposing forwards, but there was a large gap in their plays where Danny suspected a third member was expected to perform. Danny hadn’t yet learned of their planned maneuvers or attacks, and was lacking in cohesiveness with them. Hess and Barton, who did not have the same teamwork disparity as Danny's line-up did, were no match for Ash and Logan in terms of defense.

The mock-game had come to an end when one team reached 3 points. Danny’s team huffed at their loss as Danny followed them as they gathered for the debriefing. Danny was pleased to find that most of his earlier observations had been mimicked by the Coach, as he pointed out their mistakes and told them how they should fix it. For the rest of practice, while Benjamin and Levi weren’t exactly singing his praises, they seemed notably less scornful of his presence on the team after the match.

Danny stood with Tim and Steph, waiting for Alfred to come pick them up from school. It had been a little over a week of Danny having joined the Foxes, and their first game of the season was coming up soon. And while Danny was no longer treated like dead weight, he hadn't exactly earned their favor yet. Of course, this wasn’t the most optimal outcome of Danny’s first time playing hockey after four years, but he was willing to accept his losses. If they really disliked him so much by the end of the season, he’d just look into joining another team. Even if the orange, black and white jacket had quickly become Danny’s go-to.

Danny was dragged back into reality by Tim’s hesitant voice, “So,” He started, “How’s hockey going?”

Danny blocked the sun behind Tim with his hand as he looked up, surprised by the question. Tim hadn’t really brought up sports before, mostly sticking to video games, and various projects for filling conversation. “It’s good.” Danny answered, not sure why Tim had asked.

Tim paused before, “Do you um…” He tried unsurely, “Have games?”

Danny blinked at him, before a small smile formed, realizing Tim had just been curious about his team. “Not yet, qualifiers start this Friday.” At Tim’s lost expression and scrunched brows, Danny elaborated. “Qualifiers mean you compete against all the other Gotham teams. After that the team that wins plays for Gotham, against all the other cities, so for state champion.” Tim nodded along, “Then if we can get that far, it's the national championships.”

Taking the explanation, “What team do you play for then?”

“Arctic Foxes.” Danny said, “Friday’s match is against the Gotham Bats.” Deciding to be more open with Tim, “I play number 17.” Alfred’s black car came into view a few feet away, as Danny continued. “Apparently the Bats usually win state, so it’s a pretty intense qualifier.” They slid into the car.

“How’s your team then?”

“They’re pretty good. I got to be center forward, so we’re practicing on, like, team integration and all that. Honestly, I was kinda surprised they put me in the second line. Figured I’d have to be a fourth or something for a while since I haven’t played in a few years.” Danny prattled on easily, fixing his bag by his feet before turning to face Tim. Danny laughed at the confused expression painted on Tim’s face, “Forwards are like the offensive position, we strike and try to score and stuff. Defenders, pretty obvious, defend against the opponent. And then goaltender. There's 6 players on the ice at a time.” He explained easily.

“Oh, so you play offense?” Tim summarized, after a moment.

Danny nodded, the thought of inviting Tim to come to his game on Friday filtered through his mind. Nerves that Danny had long since disassociated with Tim, danced in his chest at the prospect. Tim might be busy, he had school, and his cases as Red Robin to work on. Why would he want to come to a random qualifier on some of his only down time to watch Danny? Despite his hesitancy, Danny decided to bite the bullet, trying to inject all the ease he could into his next words. “You can come to the game on Friday. If you want to see.”

Tim’s answer came easier than Danny had been prepared to receive. “I’ll be there.”

Despite the confidence Tim had assured Danny of his presence with, when Danny left the Manor after school that Friday, he accepted the inevitable disappointment knowing Tim was sure to be busy with something else and not be able to make it. The first game of the season was in a stadium in central Gotham, Levi had taken the time during their bus ride from their usual training rink to the stadium to catch him up on what they knew about the Bat’s Hockey Team.

They were a relatively new team, only about ten years old, but they’d been Gotham’s final contestants, usually against the Robins. They were an incredibly well-funded team. And even though Levi didn’t seem happy about admitting so, the Foxes hadn’t given them too much of a fight in the years he’d been playing with them. Logan, Danny had learned, was essentially the unofficial co-captain, and had done his best to boost morale on the ride over by going over strategies they’d been practicing for the past few weeks. Coach had given them the promise that dinner would be on him if they won this game.

Inside the stadium, the large seating capacity looked disparagingly empty with a few people scattered around in the closest two rows. Danny pointedly didn’t look at their side of the bleachers, not ready to be faced with Tim's absence Danny was sure would be there. They geared up while the Bats were already on the ice, warming up.

They didn’t seem too curious about their opponents, many of them enamored in their own conversations. The Bats, Danny noticed, had more team members than the Foxes. Each of them already had their own jersey; black with yellow lettering and numbers on the back, and a play on Batman’s original Bat log pasted on their chest. The Foxes, lacking in such funding, had been reserved to older jerseys, with numbers and the team name instead of their individual last names in the back.

Coach had sent in Ash and Logan in for defense in the start of the game, the third line-up of forwards despite their own hesitance. The forwards consisted of Ethan Hudson, a sophom*ore and oldest of the three and the only one that had any experience playing hockey. Parker Colon, and Meteo “Matt” Mathews were freshman in highschool, and had only been able to play thanks to a program that Bruce had enacted for financially struggling families with “at-risk” youth. They did well in practice and tried their best, but of all the forward line-ups they were the weakest.

“Why are you putting us in first?” Parker asked, holding his hockey stick with a vice grip after Coach had told them to start the game. Noah frowned at the decision, but waited for Coach’s explanation.

Logan was the one that answered instead of Coach, “Starting a game isn’t any different than joining in the middle,” He said encouragingly, “And the experience will be good for you guys.”

“You’ll be setting the mood for how they perceive the rest of the team.” Ash said in direct contradiction to Logan’s placating work, earning him a look from the boy. Undeterred, Ash gave Parker and Matt an encouraging pat on the shoulder pushing them towards the gates of the bleachers and towards the ice. “It’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

The referee gave the signal that the game was about to start, and the five headed on the ice with Keith taking his spot silently in front of their goal. When they were out of earshot, Samuel was the one that spoke up first, “If they do sh*t, we can use them thinking we’re bad to our advantage.” He concluded. Coach gave him an easy nod, not moving his eyes off the players on the field.

Sitting in the bleachers, Danny tried to focus on the game and pick up on the other team’s play strategies, but the small voice in his head stroked his curiosity. And he wondered for just a sliver of a moment if Tim had actually found a seat in their end of the bleachers. And that second was all it took for his earlier resolve of not checking to crumble. Danny felt like the world had slowed down as he peeled his eyes off the movements on the ice where the Foxes were essentially getting bodied, with Ash and Logan doing their best to defend the freshman and Ethan.

It only took half a second for Danny to find the boy that had been on August’s cover of Forbes at the young age of 16, and who Danny had only known through Twitter posts and youtube videos before a month ago. The black haired blue eyed boy was dressed in a casual hoodie (it was designer and easily cost more than a high-end computer) and slacks. A combination only Tim would think to make, and one only his popularity and influence could pull off. Behind him like a shadow, was one Stephine Brown, as they both looked around the large stadium in search of something.

Daringly, Danny waved at them and fortunately Steph caught the action, waving back with twice the enthusiasm, she dragged Tim to the bleacher closest to where Danny sat. The unsuspecting middle-aged man that they sat a few seats down from, did a stunned double take at the model-esque teens next to him, eyes going wide. In the chilly stadium, Steph zipped up her oversized jacket over her crop top, and tried to tuck her exposed legs into it. A tennis skirt probably wasn't the best choice of outfit for an ice rink. Greeting them with a cheek-aching smile, Danny turned back to watch the ice. Danny could feel the blood pump through his body with a new found excitement to show off his skills to his new siblings (Steph was basically a Wayne even if she hadn’t officially been adopted, but that was mostly because it would make her and Tim being ex’s really weird).

Parker, Matt and Ethan couldn’t really hold their own against the beast of the players number 56, 72, and 41 had turned out to be. Danny listened to Coach’s explanation of how they were planning to switch the third line up of forwards with the first once they reached the half point of the first half of the game. Noah and Theo nodded in understanding, and Liam didn’t protest despite his visible hesitation. Samuel and Harper were eager to join the plays as well, and would replace Logan and Ash to recuperate before they would go in for the last half. Levi and Benjamin hadn’t been assigned a play-time yet, and would need to wait until after halftime. Danny wasn’t oblivious enough to not know that it definitely had to do with his late joining of the team. Holding his tongue, Danny waited for his turn to join the ice and prove that he wouldn’t drag his team down.

56 and 72 were hulks of teenage boys, easily over powering the smaller and less experienced Foxes line up by sheer force. That coordination with the puck itself left much to be desired in terms of skill, especially since 41 was much more adept and intermediate maneuvers. The Bat’s decisive players, 37 and 28, were easily able to stop any of the Foxes attempts at a point, and by the time Coach signaled the Ref for a play change, the scoreboard had somehow managed to remain a 0-0 thanks to Ash and Logan’s backup and Keith’s fast responses.

The Bat’s players pulled off to the side with easy smiles and content laughs, not bothering to switch out themselves. Theo took the time to give the younger players a nod of acknowledgement as his own line-up took up the ice. The nervous and dejected players took the empty bench spots, as the whistle continued the game with the new set up on the ice. Danny glanced over at Matt who had ended up sitting right next to him, hands wringing together, and nudged him with his elbow. Matt looked up at him confused and startled, “You did good.” Danny said easily, giving the boy a small smile. Matt didn’t respond and turned back to look straight ahead, hands sitting easily in his lap.

The disparity in skill that had been glaringly obvious in their first collage of players had been eased after the sub out. Noah, Theo, and Liam were much more seamless than the third line, thanks to the experience that the latter still lacked. Liam’s hesitance was still a hindrance and contrasted Noah’s decisive and aggressive plays. Theo and Liam were much more skilled at driving the puck than Bat’s 56 and 72 who’s heavy reliance on strength rather than ability only became more apparent. Noah’s sharp drives helped them against the more skilled 41. The forwards were much more matched in skill, and the same could be said for the defensive line up. Neither of them let the puck come close to the goal.

The time on the clock was dwindling, and it looked like Danny’s earlier conclusion on the Fox’s defense line-up being equally matched had been sorely miscalculated. The puck was coming dangerously close to the goal Keith stood guard at, 37 and 41 driving it against Samuel and Harper’s cracking defense. 56 came up ready to take a shot that made Danny’s stomach sink with anxiety, he took the clear shot and Noah managed to slip in a deflect it before it made it to Keith. But that hadn’t been enough to deter them, the clock down to only seconds. 72 stole the puck from Noah, and took the shot into the goal. Danny held his breath as Keith dove at the circle of black, and knocked it against the barrier just as the halftime horn blared.

Danny went to meet Benjamin and Levi where they stood. It was his turn to try to turn the tides. The Bat’s returned to their bleachers. Normally a team wouldn’t have the same players through the whole game, but as Danny watched the other team converse, it was clear none of the other line-ups were willing to go on the ice, likely citing that the Foxes weren’t a threat.

Proven right when the same numbers slid back on the ice in their black and yellow jerseys, Danny made a silent mental goal to score their first point in the time he’d been allotted on the ice before the first line up would be placed back. Samuel and Harper would be playing their defense, and Keith took his spot in front of the goal, his stoic ferocity contrasting the Bat’s easygoing air.

The beep sounded, and Danny could hear the distant cheer of his name, as he flew across the ice, in the shadow of his teammates. The Bat’s snickered and jeered, to try an intimidate them, fake-yawning dramatically as the clock began ticking. The referee placed the puck and moved out of the way and they were going. Levi aimed for the puck, but 56 snatched it up, passing it to 41. Samuel had been nearest, and went to snag the puck as Danny raced after it with the pack. Samuel caught it but couldn’t keep it for too long, passing to Levi.

Levi drove the puck closer to mid-field, trying to bring it closer to their goal. 72 was coming in to take a steal, his movements loudly projected, and Levi took the pass to Benjamin who was nearest, but 36 dove in to intercept the pass. Cursing, Benjamin took off after him to reclaim the puck, with Danny and Levi following close behind. Samuel and Harper tried to block the players from being able to receive.

The game leaned in no one's favor, and the few times Danny had gotten the puck, he’d immediately had to pass it off in favor of keeping in his team. Sometime between getting on the ice and that very moment, the loud sound of the overhead air conditioning melted away along with the rest of his surroundings. It was just him and the puck. Filled instead with the sound of blades scratching the surface of the ice, the puck slamming against sticks and barriers but never the net.

There was a split second standoff when Harper had passed the puck to Benjamin, 56 coming in hot, Harper on his tail, and 72 chasing behind. Levi was blocking 28, but was covered by 36. Danny being the smallest had been overlooked, and they had taken to covering the larger, taller and bulkier players. Benjamin had a clear shot to Danny, and as soon as the puck landed against his stick, he started moving. 28 was the quickest to realize where the puck was heading, but was the furthest away.

Danny glided across the ice. The Bat’s goalie was unassuming, and if his posture was anything to go by, he wasn’t paying attention. 28 was barely a hair behind him, and when Danny took a split second glance, he caught an unidentifiable cloud of orange too. 36 pawed at the puck, Danny evaded easily, curving around so that he was behind him as well.

Danny looked at his goal, eyes zeroing in at the small opening the goalie had left. Any amount of logic would prove that taking the shot was a risk. The puck would have to slide past the long opening when any of the Bats could snatch it if they managed to be fast enough. And the opening Danny had been eyeing was only millimeters larger than the size of the puck, not only making it incredibly easy for the goalie to block it, but even an ounce of misdirection would likely give the Bats the perfect opening to have the puck in their court.

The logic of the discussion flashed through his mind, but the puck was already on a blinding trajectory before Danny could think to reconsider. The world froze as the puck went for the opening. The back of the net was all that stopped its momentum.

Danny had scored. There was a moment of deafening silence. The buzzer rang and the scoreboard was updated from the old 0-0 to a 1-0 in their favor. Danny had scored! There was a rioting cheer from the Foxes bench, and behind them Steph and Tim cheered just as jovially.

The referee blew the whistle, meaning the other team had decided to switch out their players. 56 skated past Danny as they both retreated to their sides of the court, shouldering Danny harshly, knocking him to the floor. The referee sounded a warning whistle at the act. Samuel and Levi stared the players down as they returned to their bench.

Danny huffed, annoyed with himself, and was about to push himself back to his feet. Silently, Benjamin offered him a hand. Surprised, he stared at it for a moment, and then gave him a thankful smile as the other boy helped him to his feet. Not exchanging any words, Danny was led to be showered with pats on the backs in the benches, as the first-line up of forwards and defensem*n took the ice.

The game was won with the Fox’s victory, 1-0.

---

Noah liked to think he was a pretty sensible guy. He grew up in Crime Alley, he had to keep a level head if he wanted to keep his head. He knew Crime Alley before the Red Hood got around in it, and now he knows it after. Noah could tell the difference, it was a good difference. But no matter how much one guy tries, no matter how many guns he had strapped to him, he couldn’t be everywhere all the time. Noah wouldn’t blame his scuffle with some up and coming gang in the Alley on Red Hood. He walked into that hell all on his own, and he’d own up to it.

For the record, Noah was not running away. It was a tactical retreat so that he could get some back up. He could throw a punch, but it takes one hell of a guy to win a 1v… like 20? He didn’t exactly have the free time to stand and count, but there were a whole bunch of voices shouting at him and twice the amount of feet hitting the pavement.

He’d call Theo. He’d get there before Noah started losing, and Noah trusted him to have his back. Noah pulled out his phone, familiar enough with the route to not have to keep looking, and dialed him. If he didn’t pick up, Noah wasn’t sure his phone had enough battery in it to call again. But Theo would answer, and he’d come. Noah was certain.

So when the phone made the sound it did when the other person answers, imagine Noah’s surprise when it wasn’t Theo who answered. “Hello?” The voice was familiar, only slightly distorted by the phone and Noah’s running.

“f*ck.” It only took a glance for Noah to realize his mistake.

“Uh,” He called f*cking Danny. “What’s up, man?” The gang was on his tail. Noah didn’t skip out on cardio, but sh*t he couldn’t keep going.

“Nothing, f*ck. I meant to call Theo.” There was no way Noah’s phone was gonna last for an explanation or a redial. “I’m kinda in a situation.” Noah tried to be quick, and told Danny his location. “Tell-” And the phone died. f*ck. f*ck. Dead end. f*ck. No f*cking way the kid who lived all the way down in f*cking Bristol was coming to Crime Alley at ass o’clock. And even if he did try, he’d only ever get here in time to host Noah’s funeral. sh*t.

With more confidence than he had, “Who wants to go first?” He smirked, balling his fists. He should have brought a knife. What was he thinking, leaving it at home? Noah held up a fight. Two of them were down, but his bruises were nothing to cough at. Breathing f*cking hurt. Holy sh*t, he was actually about to die.

“Who the hell is that?” Noah heard one of the gang kids say, he was further in the back so it was hard to hear.

“What the fu- ugh.” There was the sound of a body hitting the floor. Noah only caught black hair, and thought that maybe Danny had somehow known to call Theo. But unless he’d shrunk half a foot since last they met, that wasn’t Theo.

Noah didn’t have time to look the gift horse in it’s suspicious f*cking mouth. One of the guys came at him with a knife, and it only managed to nick his forearm as he knocked it out of the guy's hand. Noah easily beat him, despite the very sore ribs that were making it hard for him to twist left. But not even having time to gather his breath, Noah was back at throwing punches at the next guy that came at him. This guy had some pretty heavy punches, and after Noah managed to knock his eyes to the back of his skull, all he could do to keep himself upright was to lean on the brick wall behind him.

Clutching his side, Noah looked at the battlefield in front of him. He’d managed to knock out at least 7 of the guys, and Not-Theo, who still had his back turned to Noah, was taking on the last two that were still on their feet with plenty scattering the floor around him. One of the gang dudes came at Not-Theo with a punch to the face, but he saw it coming and moved with the punch. Instead of moving to the side, the guy dropped to the floor. Noah wondered for a moment if he had actually taken the hit. But the fall was too clean, and the guy landed securely on his forearms and pulled off a wicked-ass maneuver with his feet that managed to pull both guys to the ground and put him back on his feet in a matter of seconds.

And just like that, it was him and Noah.

The guy turned around, and Noah, despite the pain, pushed himself off the wall to see what the guy’s deal was. Crime Alley kids got into fights all the time but not for other guys. Not for someone they didn’t know. And definitely not against people that ran in crowds that could pull an easy 20 count chase on one guy.

It took Noah a minute to recognize the kid. Because, hell, he was the last guy he was expecting to show up. “Are you alright?” Danny asked, leaving the bat he’d taken up as a weapon on the floor. Because Danny had been the one to take down the majority of the group when Noah had only managed 7. What the hell? He didn’t even look winded or hurt.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Noah asked more confused than accusatory, despite the edge he tried to put into his words. What was Rich Boy Wayne’s Mystery Boy doing in America’s most dangerous city’s most dangerous district? Alone. In the middle of the f*cking night.

“You called me?” Danny tilted his head to the side like that was the most obvious conclusion.

“You showed up because I called you?” What the hell was this kid’s deal? Why would he come all this way just cause some asshole from his f*cking hockey team accidentally called him.

Danny was about to answer, but there was the sound of something hitting the pavement in the shadows. Noah’s blood ran cold. He’d never heard that sound in real life before, but everyone in Gotham knew what followed that sound. A Steel-Toed Bat. And there was only ever one Steel-Toed Bat that showed up in Crime Alley.

When Noah’s head snapped to the sound in alarm, Danny turned around in curiosity.

Heavy steps came closer to them, and Noah’s balance began to falter from his injuries. Danny was quick to heave an arm around him and hold him upright. Red Hood came into the light of the streetlight, his faceless mask looking over the littered bodies on the floor. He pushed the one closest to him with his shoe, and when the kid groaned in pain but didn’t wake up, he looked at the two that stood above.

When the Hood didn’t say anything, Danny, the f*cking genius he was, “Are you just gonna stand there or actually do something?” He rolled his eyes. Yes, Danny, please, provoke the guy that usurped all the underground networks in Gotham in a matter of days.

“What are you doing here?” Red Hood finally asked Danny.

“ACAB.” Holy sh*t. Is he suicidal? Sure Red Hood didn’t hurt kids, but the classification of kid was still up for grabs. Noah was very aware that he, 6’ 1”, broad shouldered, age 17, could easily fall out of that classification. Danny was shorter and smaller, but he still looked an easy 15-16.

Red Hood, to his credit, didn’t immediately put a bullet through Danny’s head. His shoulders shifted, and his head moved and he still looked at Danny, “I look like a cop to you, kid?”

“You want me to answer that?” A sound came out of the Red Hood helmet, it was distorted, and sounded static. Danny was about to get them both killed.

“Who’s that?” Red Hood nodded at Noah, walking closer to them. The guns on his belt came fully into view.

Danny looked at him, “That’s Noah.” Good, no last name. “He’s on my hockey team.”

Red Hood seemed surprised by this, “You’re on a hockey team?”

Danny shrugged, “Yeah. We had our first game on Friday.” Why were they talking about Friday’s game with Red Hood in Crime Alley, surrounded by unconscious bodies?

There's a pause, then a grumbled sound again distorted, “You win?”

Danny smiled wickedly, and Noah huffed at the snotty answer he knew was coming, “Duh.”

Red Hood nodded in approval, then switched his attention to Noah, “You hurt, kid?”

“No,” Noah tried to evade Red Hood’s incoming hand, but the movement caused a hiss of pain.

Red Hood conceded, “That doesn’t sound like you’re not hurt.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a bruised rib.” Danny was the one that answered. For how quiet he was around the team at first, Danny’s a real chatter when it came to Gotham’s nefarious, apparently.

Red Hood nodded, and tried to get in a good look at Noah. “You’re Skinner’s kid?” He asked. Noah nodded at the title most people called his dad. “You want a hospital? Or I could ship you off home.”

“I can get there on my own.”

“You can’t even stand on your own.” Danny snapped, and Noah kicked him in the shin. There was a small “Oof” from Danny but he stood firm despite the hit.

---

Red Hood and Nightwing sat perched idly on the rooftop watching the gang-of-the week take stock of their weapons before their “clients” showed up. It was nothing unusual for them, and the boredom had started settling in after the first 5 minutes of nothing happening.

Jason remembered the call that Danny had gotten after he had crashed at his place a few nights ago, from his apparent hockey teammate. Jason, curious to know if had been the only one to not know about the development, asked, “Have you been to any of Danny’s hockey games, yet?” Because no way was Jason about to let it be known he had been blindsided by the fact he was even on a team if Dick had known the whole time.

Dick turned to him, head sideways. The surprise in his features was confirmation to Jason that he wasn’t the only one in the dark. “Danny joined a hockey team?” He whisper-yelled in shock.

“He didn’t even tell me until one of his teammates called him.” Jason huffed in admission, glad to know he alone hadn’t been singled out, eyes keenly watching the exchange that was beginning under their watch.

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell us.” Dick pouted, then after a moment a grin cracked his face, “We should totally crash his next game.”

---

There was a knock on the door to Bruce’s study. A smile tipped at the corner of his lips knowing there was only resident that would still knock before entering. “Come in, Danny.” The large doors parted, just enough for the boy to comfortably slip through, still in his school uniform. “How was school?” Bruce placed his pen down to give Danny his attention.

“It was good.” Danny said easily, “I think I can actually make it to class without getting lost now.” He laughed lightly.

“That's good to hear. And classes are going well too, I presume.”

“They’re actually not as bad as I thought they would be.” Danny answered honestly, finally standing at the other side of his desk and taking a seat. Danny had been tested for his class placements and the results had been pleasantly surprising, and he had placed in many classes higher than the average 16 year old, letting him share classes with Duke who would’ve otherwise been a grade level above him.

Danny knotted his fingers together in a manner Bruce had learned was a nervous tell for when he was preparing to say something. Letting him have the space to open up to him, Bruce waited patiently, happy to simply be in his son’s presence.

“We had our first game last Friday,” He started, looking up from his lap to Bruce, hesitant to absorb every ounce of his body language. Bruce opened his shoulders, and relaxed his face to make sure Danny knew that his company was always welcomed.

“That’s right,” Bruce nodded at the memory of Tim and Steph telling him they’d be going. Bruce had considered accompanying them, but Danny had asked Tim personally to attend, and Steph and Danny had a relatively easy relationship and it made sense that she would attend without an invitation. Bruce, not wanting to test the acceptance of his presence there, had instead elected to wait until Danny would let him know that he was welcome there. “I heard from Tim that you were the one to score your team’s winning point.” Bruce smiled happily at the reconciliation.

The tension in Danny’s shoulders seemed to lessen just a sliver, and eager excitement swam in his eyes. “Well, it was a team effort. But I do think I did pretty good.” He said humbly. The matching smile on Bruce’s hopefully prompted Danny’s next words to come out sooner. He cleared his throat, “Um, so.” His eyes filtered through the piles of papers and files that littered Bruce’s desk no matter how proactive he tried to be with the company work. “This, uh, Friday,” he began, “Do you have any plans?”

Looking at his digital calendar, “I do have a lunch scheduled with a few potential investors.” Bruce answered honestly, making sure to keep his voice neutral about the plan. Lucious had put that on his schedule only for his presence there to help his public profile be seen more pleasant. He could easily cancel or reschedule if his suspicions were correct and Danny had been intending to invite him to his game.

The hopeful look in Danny’s eyes vanished at Bruce’s words, and he nodded in understanding. “Oh, okay.”

Bruce forced away the confused frown that threatened his features at the reaction. “Why do you ask?” He prompted, trying to project his interest in Danny.

“Oh, no reason.” He dismissed it easily with a smile. There was a beat of silence where Bruce tried to recall which part of the interaction had not gone in Danny’s favor for the change in demure. “Um, Duke’s probably waiting for me. I asked him to help me catch up in one of our classes.” Danny said as a blatant excuse.

“Oh of course.” Bruce tried to be amicable, “My doors are always open for you Danny.” He tried to say encouragingly. Danny only nodded as he left, and closed the door to Bruce's entrapment behind him.

---

Danny had been helping Alfred in the kitchen, when he’d deemed dinner ready and sent Danny off to get Damian from his room. With a quick salute, Danny headed up the stairs to where he knew Damian’s room to be and knocked “Dami, Alfred says it’s time for dinner.” He called through the door.

After a moment, the door opened smoothly with Damian looking absolutely peeved to see Danny, glaring up at him. In turn, Danny smiled easily. “Daniel.” He hissed.

“Dami.” Danny was not one to back down. Then after a moment, “Alfred’s waiting.” He gestured his head to the direction of the stairs.

Damian pushed past him, pointedly unhappy about being forced to follow Danny’s direction. Danny couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the pre-teen’s behavior. They both walked into the dining room, empty except for Bruce, Alfred by his side. “Looks like it’s just us.” He commented quietly, taking a seat next to Damian instead of his usual spot further down the table or the empty seat on Bruce’s other side. Damian frowned at Danny, unhappy that he was sitting next to him, but there was just the smallest sliver of curiosity in his green eyes that made Danny not change seats.

Dinner had gone smoothly and quietly now that there were notably less people, and Danny’s mind wandered in the silence. Danny and Damian were full siblings, biologically. Meaning they had the same dad and mom, and they were a few years apart despite the very public news that they had split up after what had been understood as the death of their child. They had, clearly, despite the split kept in touch, if Damian’s existence was anything to go by. And given the open information that Damian had stayed with his (their) mother for the first decade of his life somewhere in the Middle East, it made sense that Danny had yet to run into her in New Jersey.

Danny knew that different couples dealt with divorces and splitting up differently. Adam and Wes’s parent’s despite being divorced, living in different states, and seeing different people, still had a relatively amicable relationship and Wes would often leave during the longer breaks from school to visit his dad in Tennessee where he grew up. Val, on the contrary, knew neither hide nor tail of her mom after her parents had a pretty nasty split in elementary school. Danny also was very aware that what people told the public, especially people as closely followed as the Waynes, may not always be the real truth.

In conclusion, Danny had no idea what to make of the glaring absence of the woman that was supposed to be his mother. Given the shared-to-everyone-except-Danny information of their secret identity, it wasn’t unreasonable that his mother may be involved in that lifestyle as well. Which only extended the possibilities of her whereabouts.

“What is it Danny?” Bruce’s voice snapped Danny out of his spiraling thoughts, he looked up to see both Bruce’s and Damian’s attention on him as Alfred retreated with their dishes.

Danny wondered if he should ask Bruce. Naturally, he would be the most reliable source. But how would Bruce react to the question? The topic of exes wasn’t exactly something most people were eager to discuss. Danny tried to get a read on Bruce, and prepare for any reaction he might have and be ready to deal with it. “Um,” He started “I was just wondering- if, um.” Danny picked at his lips unsure of the best way to ask a possibly intrusive question. Was he even allowed to ask? Was this one of those we-never-talk-about-this-ever category topics every family seemed to have?

“I’m listening.” Bruce prompted when Danny stopped talking. He gave Danny an encouraging smile, and a prompting nod.

He can’t do anything to you that you can’t handle Danny. You grew up with ghost hunters. So what if he’s the Batman? Danny squared his shoulders, Damian watched the exchange. Deciding to start from the beginning, “Well since, you said before, that Damian and I had the same mother.” Bruce took a sharp breath at the topic, but didn’t immediately stop Danny, so he kept going, “I mean, I haven’t really seen much of her, I guess, or she’s not really around.” Danny wasn’t really sure how to phrase the question, “I was just wondering, I guess, um…” He trailed off, the look of constipation of Bruce’s face clearly meant he understood what Danny was trying to ask.

Immediately, before Bruce could even string together an explanation, “Mother is not dead.” Damian blurted, a pointedness in his voice directed at half a set of their parents. Bruce turned to level Damian with a quick look, but didn’t discipline him verbally.

That was more of an explanation than Danny was expecting to receive from Bruce now. Clearly they had some form of a sour relationship, and Damian was fully aware, yet Danny was pointedly being kept in the dark. Meaning this had something to do with their Furry Brigade and Accomplices. Their mother was not dead, if Damian’s reaction was anything to go by, but that was a coverup that Bruce would have been willing to use in Damian’s perspective. Knowing how astute he could be, it was likely a fair conclusion.

Bruce turned to Danny now, “Yes, your mother is not dead, Danny.” He tried to sound lighthearted, injecting an artificial ease in his tone, but his shoulders were not as lax as they had been before the topic had been broached. “We, simply,” He paused, thinking, “don’t see eye-to-eye on many things. Of course we knew that before we got into a relationship, but, well, emotions are as blinding as they are fleeting.” Danny watched Damian closely as Bruce spoke. And he clearly wasn’t happy about the explanation being provided to Danny, but didn’t intercede. Either the explanation was close enough, or Damian wasn’t willing to argue about it in front of Danny. “Your mother lives in a different country, which is where Damian grew up before he moved in with us. It would be difficult for her to make the trek here and back repeatedly as you can imagine.” Danny already knew that, but it seemed Bruce was willing to wager that to be a satiating explanation.

Danny didn’t say anything else, or ask any of the followup questions that were falling like shattered glass in his mind. He nodded, thanked Bruce for the explanation, the man accepted then excused himself from the table. Seemingly unaware of Danny’s suspicions. Batman was mysterious and notoriously hard to follow as Bruce Wayne’s every action was echoed through endless social media forums. It would be near impossible for Danny to find out who Batman had had relations with to cross reference with Bruce’s innumerous ones. Near impossible for anyone who wasn’t Phantom that is.

But Danny considered the other aspect of this. Of course he could go scouring the dimensions for the woman who had birthed him and his brother. But if she wasn’t keen on finding him, then it would all be for naught. Danny wondered if Damian ever talked to their mom, and if he had ever mentioned him to her. What had her reaction been? Would she have cared? The grave in the garden flashed in Danny’s mind. Beloved Son. Was he her beloved son? Was he her son in anything other than blood? If he was, then why hadn’t she come to see him? What if she just didn’t know- no, surely Bruce would’ve told her. Maybe since she had Damian, she didn’t need Danny anymore. After all, since the Fenton’s had Perfect Jazz, Danny had only blended into the foreground.

Damian’s voice broke through the silence of the foyer they had been standing in, and broke Danny out of his thoughts. “I challenge you to a rematch.” He declared, crossing his arms and looking up at Danny with a confidence that seemed to be permanently embedded into his being.

“Rematch for what?” Danny asked, confused.

“I will admit,” Damian started in exasperation, “the football match you challenged me to last time had not gone as leisurely as I may have anticipated.” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. “I have since reflected on the experience, I would like to challenge you, formally, to a rematch.”

Had Damian really liked their little game of soccer that much? He’d even gone to practice, it seemed. Danny couldn’t stop the smile that creeped at his lips. The many sports Danny had been enrolled in when he was younger had been, now that he was looking back, his saving grace. Damian had Robin, sure, but Danny had given him soccer. Danny could still remember the anger that had poured through him those years ago, how he knew no one understood what he was going through. Not even Jazz, his own sister. But sports had always been different, his teammates didn’t need to understand, because just for those moments it didn’t matter. “You think you can beat me, huh?” Danny prodded challengingly.

“I know I can.” Damian insisted.

Danny laughed at the response that made it seem like a younger him had simply gone through a bout of time traveling. “I’ll go grab the ball.” Danny headed to get the one that sat idly in the corner of his new room.

“That won’t be necessary.” Damian’s words stopped him, “I’ve already prepared beforehand.”

“Lead the way, Boss.” Danny stood at attention with a mock salute. Damian scoffed at the show, fighting a smile as he stomped to the backyard.

---

“Three tickets please.” Dick gave the elderly lady behind the booth a pleasant smile, as he handed over his card. Jason eyed the distant concession menu hoping he could snag a burger before the stadiums filled. Damian, next to him, had a bored frown on his face like they had forcibly dragged him there. Which they had not. Jason wasn’t even sure how the brat had found out he and Dick were planning on crashing, but he had strapped himself in the backseat of the car and refused to explain why. In fact, Jason had told him many times that he was welcome to not come, but the kid hadn’t moved an inch.

Snacks in hand and seats secured, the trio scanned the array of orange and black jerseys they knew to be Danny’s team colors. The matching helmets made Danny’s hair and eyes negligible as an identifier, but the W-A-Y-N-E lettering on the back of jersey number 17 could probably make up for that. Danny hadn’t seemed to notice them despite Dick’s pointing and jittering. “Look, there he is. Aw, he looks so small compared to his teammates.”

“He can use that to his advantage.” Damian concluded analytically, “The other team already seem to be underestimating him.” There was a deep frown on his face when one of the blue jersied kids purposely pushed against Danny as they skated past each other, and the trio snickered at something Jason couldn’t hear. Danny hardly reacted at all but the two of his teammates closest to him leveled the blue guys with a glare. “It would be in Daniel’s best interest to not smear an embarrassing loss on the family name.” Damian crossed his arms and slumped into his seat as it looked like the warmups were ending and the actual game was starting.

The crowd was pretty thin, and Jason figured since it was still a pretty small game, only family and friends had come to watch. Jason was happy to know that they could easily be loud enough to cause a disturbance in the crowd and probably get Danny’s attention when the game started. Through the pointing and whispering, Jason figured many people were curious to know how a Wayne ended up on the ice, and it was only a matter of time until they noticed the ones in the stands too.

With a sharp whistle from the buzzer, the players on the ice snapped into movement, Danny still in the benches with some of the other kids. The Polar Bears, the opposing team’s name according to some of the memorabilia Jason managed to spot while surveying the arena, seemed to be holding the puck easily in their grips from Danny’s active teammates.

A few minutes into the game, Damian huffed dramatically and plopped his head into his propper up hands. “How long is this supposed to be anyway?” He asked with every ounce of irritation he could manage.

Jason raised an incredulous brow at him, “Don’t complain when you basically kidnapped yourself here.” He chided the younger boy.

“Don’t worry Damian, I bet Danny will get his turn any moment now.” Dick smiled encouragingly, leaning back lazily in his seat for their cue to be Annoying As Possible.

“Tch.” He snapped his head away from both of them.

Just like Dick had predicted, it took until halftime for Danny to finally be allowed on the ice with his accompanying two teammates switching out the team with Noah. While they got into position so the game could resume from their halftime pause, the members of the Bears very visibly jeered and mocked Danny from the stands. “What’s their f*cking problem?” Jason hissed under his breath.

“Tch, those peasants better be prepared for their due retribution.” Damian snarked, finally perking up in his seat when Danny started skating on the ice.

The referee blew the whistle to start the game and everyone on the field snapped for the small black dot, “Go, Danny!” Dick cheered at the top of his lungs right after the whistle, “Woo!” The scream must have distracted Danny, and he got shoved out of the way by a Blue Jerseyed Bear, his head snapped at where the sound had come from in shock.

He stood still for a moment, and blinked at them before an excited smile seemed to break his features, before he sped off after the puck, “Tch, he’s such a child.” Damian groaned, feigning disinterest.

“Head in the game, Danny.” Jason snapped at him when he made too many unfavorable moves, and Dick finally gave his lungs a break. Danny got shoved out of the way, this time not by accident, by one of their opponents coming in for the puck, “Hey, watch it.” Jason’s anger only flared when the Ref stayed silent in his corner, “That had to break some kind of rule.” He pointed an angry finger at the striped shirt, “They pay you off or something?”

“Jason calm down,” Dick grabbed his arms, when Jason was finally about to go give the man a piece of his mind.

“We should wait until there's less attention on us before we strike.” Damian added, when Jason finally took to grumbling in his seat. Dick subtly disengaged the knife that Jason hadn’t noticed he’d slipped into his hands.

“Guys, this is a sports game.” Dick told them carefully, “I don’t like how he’s getting treated either, but maiming them is not an appropriate reaction.” Dick was about to say something else when Danny finally started dribbling the puck closer to their goal, and Dick watched with rapt attention, as did Jason and Damian. “Go, Danny!” Dick cheered happily as he got ready for his shot.

Danny got ready to go for the goal with a left sliding shot, and the goalie prepared for impact as the other Bears came in close. The puck went in from the right side, and slid smoothly past the goalie and into the net. Danny’s teammates' cheers were drowned out singularly by Dick and Jason, but the game wasn’t over yet and each team was eager to break the 1-1 tie.

The game finished with a too-close-for-comfort second point for the Fox’s, and Jason, Dick, and Damian, huffy as always, made their way to where the team was standing about making light conversation right outside the doors of the ice rink, taking off their exterior gear and drinking water.

“Dude, do you like not sweat?” Jason could hear one of them say.

“Uh, no, actually.” Danny answered awkwardly, sipping at his water bottle. “Ice meta and everything, y’know.”

The first boy looked personally offended by the response, and another, “f*ck you, man.” He said without any real heat. The two boys with Danny noticed Jason and the two others approaching before Danny who had his back turned to them. “Looks like your cheerleaders are here.” He laughed sarcastically.

“Aw, you didn’t bring the pretty blonde this time.” The first guy commented, before walking off.

“You were so cool, Danny.” Dick was the first to gush, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.” He pouted lightheartedly.

“I didn’t think you guys would care,” Danny laughed lightly, and Jason noticed the shift in Dick’s mood in the split second it took him to cover it up. “I was really surprised when you showed up.”

“Of course we care.” Dick said animatedly, then with a smirk “Actually, this was all Jason’s idea.”

“Really?” Danny asked, surprised, turning to Jason for confirmation.

“No it wasn’t.” Jason denied, “But I can’t believe I had to find out that way.” Dick gave him a curious look, but Jason wasn’t about to let loose that Danny knew when Dick was so vehement about keeping it a secret despite what should’ve been his better judgment. The fact that he and Bruce seemed to agree on the matter should’ve been the first red flag.

Danny had the decency to look a little embarrassed, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by one of his other teammates, “Coach’s calling for post-game debrief. We’re getting fried chicken after.” The boy, Noah, turned his head to look at the three intruders, “You gonna be joining?” He asked after a beat. He seemed much more comfortable around them than he had with Red Hood but that was only natural.

“Uh,” Danny looked between them, and Dick gave him a small nod, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

Noah took a survey over them, eyes landing curiously on Damian, “I didn't know you came in a smaller size.”

The dark haired boy on Danny’s other side snorted at that, finally looking round the two older ones to peek at Damian. “Hey, if you skate anything like your brother, we got first dibs on you, kid.” He joked, lightly.

“Tch. As if I would ever need to know something as trivial as skating around on artificial ice. At least Daniel has yet to embarrass us with a depraved loss.”

The boy blinked at the reaction, “...Right.” They nodded, unsure.

“You don’t know how to skate?” Danny asked surprised, wide eyed at Damian. Damian didn’t correct him, and turned away in what Jason knew to be embarrassment, “We’re totally gonna fix that.” Danny nodded to himself.

Deciding to take his chance, “You guys weren’t too bad either.” Dick smiled at the other teens.

The dark haired boy preened at the compliment, “Yeah, well, y’know.” He shrugged without a shred of humility.

Noah just gave Jason a wordless nod, and turned to give Danny a playful shove, “sh*t face.” he said unprompted, without any malice. And turned back to where the coach was talking to one of the other players.

Laughing at the exchange, “Well, Noah seems nice.” Jason commented sarcastically and immediately realized his mistake when the aforementioned boy, still in hearing range, turned to look him dead in the eyes. Noah had met Red Hood not Jason. sh*t. That was such a novice mistake. He ought to know better than that.

At Noah’s reaction, Dick immediately caught on, but kept his composure. “How do you know my name?” He asked daringly. He could just say Danny told him, but Jason didn’t recognize any of the other players and it would definitely be strange if Jason only knew Noah. Unless he and Danny were just that close, which he doubted. sh*t.

Danny looked between the two, and just as Dick was about to talk their way out of this, Danny fortunately decided to step in, “Red Hood probably told him,” What? No- “They’re actually dating.” Danny shut the f*ck up right now. Of all the things he could’ve said!

“What!” Dick gasped, unable to stop himself. Jason’s jaw fell slack. Their reactions though seemed to only prove Danny’s lie. “You’re-” Dick pointed a finger at him, letting his laugh sound shocked, “You’re dating the Red Hood?” He said loud enough for the entire swarm of teenagers to stop dead in their tracks and stare at Jason.

What the f*ck was Jason supoosed to say to that? No? Well, yes that is what he should say, but his mouth could only gape like he was a fish out of water. “It’s kinda on the downlow.” Danny added at the beat of silence, facing Noah but speaking to the whole room with a fake f*cking innocence in his face, “I only found out because-”

Knowing this could only go downhill, Jason decided to intervene. “Shut up.” He snapped, and Danny immediately put his hands up in surrender, a shine of victory in his eyes as Jason realized what the implication of that was.

Dick, the performer he was born to be, gasped. “Jason.” Everyone's eyes still on them.

Jason pointed a finger shaking in anger at Danny, “We’ll talk about this later.”

Danny pushed his tongue into his cheek to fight a smile threatening his face, “Okay.

“We’re leaving.” Jason shoved Dick to the door, the silence of the room grating at him.

“So all those nights you kept sneaking out-” Dick started, laughter dripping from his eyes now that his back was turned to the kids but knowing they could still hear. The little sh*t did this on purpose.

Despite his embarrassment and shock at the time, with the day’s activities Jason eventually forgot about the encounter by the next dinner where he had made the mistake of showing up. Everything had been going fine. The food was great. Always was.

“Guys, I think Jason has an announcement to make.” Dick started loudly, and the table hushed to hear what it would be.

“Jason?” Bruce turned his head in intrigue.

Jason blinked at the mirth dancing in Dick’s bright blue eyes. The too long silence promted Tim to ask, “What is it?”

And it took until Danny added, “It’s more of a personal development.” In his pretend-encouraging tone, for Jason to realize what was happening.

“It’s nothing.” Jason gritted out.

“Aw, no need to be so shy.” Dick teased, coyly. He hated this family so much.

“What?” Steph prodded, always eager for drama.

“It seems Todd has become involved. Romantically.” Damian, who had silently witnessed the entire encounter, spoke up.

“What? Who would date you?” Tim asked, truly shocked. Jason could totally date someone, f*ck you, Tim.

“Who is it?” Bruce asked, genuinely surprised.

Jason refused to answer.

“C’mon Jason.” Danny smiled encouragingly. This all started because of him. Everything he would do for that little sh*t, he really decided to just push him off the deep end, huh. Knowing full well Jason would be the last to let them know that Danny already knew their identities according to Phantom, and make their lives even a shade easier.

“Tell us!” Steph now, eager, “Is it someone we know?” Meaning a vigilante.

“I’ll tell them, since you're obviously so shy about it.” Dickface had a sh*t eating grin on his face, all heads turning to him, “It’s the Red Hood.”

“What- but Red Hood is-” Duke started confused, before looking right at Danny and realization dawned on him, “Oh my god.” He breathed in realization, turning to point an accusatory finger at Jason, “You’re dating the Red Hood.” He breathed.

f*ck him, and his life.

---

Danny and Damian had originally made plans to go to the ice rink in the park when it first opened on Monday, but it seemed Damian had not been aware that they only rented out used ice skates. He vehemently refused to even come close to that, citing sanitation, and their day had instead been busied in finding Damian his own pair of ice skates. Danny had decided to make a day of it, and they instead would go to the ice rink the next day.

The next day, Danny already had plans to meet up with his group for a project they’d been assigned in one of their classes after school, and wouldn’t be free until around 5. So Danny had taken both of their skates with him to school, in case Alfred wouldn’t be the one to drop Damian off later, and ignored the curious looks his schoolmates were sending him.

After his group disassembled, Danny was quick to make his way over to Gotham Central Park, Damian due to arrive any minute. But of course nothing ever went smoothly for Danny. Just as he had been making his way to nab a spot in line to get a ticket, a volley of lasers were sent up around the perimeter and a deep resounding static echoed through the loudspeakers. Someone just hijacked the park. Who even hijacks a park?

“Hello, afternoon goers.” The voice said as the static subsided, Danny wasn’t sure he recognized it, but it didn’t seem to matter, “This is your favorite Rouge here,” a pause for dramatics, because he was a Gotham rogue, “That’s right, the Riddler. And well, by the looks of it you all are out for a little bit of fun, and I thought, ‘hey, why not join in, and have some fun myself’.” The people in the park stood carefully still, not sure if it was even safe to run, many of them snapping on their gas masks preemptively. In his peripheral view,Danny caught a streak of yellow and another of black and red swing by, “And it looks like my friends made it here just in time. Welcome, Signal, Robin. Please, join us.”

As the Riddler explained his genius game to the hundred of captees, Robin made his way from speaker to speaker scanning the crowd for, by Danny’s assumption, goons or any potential explosives. But to his surprise, Robin jumped to switch from a few speaker posts, until he decided to stand a messy few feet away from him. He didn’t acknowledge Danny throughout the whole not-exchange, and Danny probably would’ve chalked it up to coincidence if he hadn’t had the opportunity to know the boy under the mask.

Signal had busied himself with corralling the civilians to a safe location away from the ice rink, which evidently had been made center stage by Mr. Riddler himself. The crowd had quickly thinned, and Danny couldn’t think of a suitable excuse to not follow them. Signal seemed quite hesitant to approach Danny, and Robin even refused to look in his direction.

“D- er- Mister,” Signal finally had to bite, as Robin went to go inspect for clues. “It’s not safe here, you should evacuate with the others.” There was a pause, and his hand went up to where his earpiece might be, “I’m sure your family, whoever they are, not that I- um- know them personally, are very worried about you. And your safety.” Then a beat passed, Danny was about to speak, but Signal quickly started again, “I would assume that they were worried, because I assumed that you have a loving caring family. And loving caring families don’t keep secrets from each- I mean they’re definitely very worried about you. Not that I asked. Because that would be silly. Ha. Ha. So- So silly. You should go. Person. Who I definitely don’t know personally.”

Danny decided to intervene, for Singal’s sake more than his. “He said the clues would be hidden on the ice, I can skate.” Danny pulled up the larger of the two pairs of skates in his hands to show, “I’m pretty good, and I can go fast. I can definitely help you guys.”

“No-” Signal said almost immediately, “They’d definitely kill me if I- I mean um- It’s too dangerous to involve a civilian.”

Danny frowned at that. “I’ll be fine.” Already fastening the last belt of his skates. The Riddler was hardly a real threat to Danny, even with having to pretend to be fully human.

“Do not overstep, this is out of your jurisdiction.” Robin spoke up for the first time since he’d clearly been following Danny.

“And you, what, have a warrant?” Danny snarked, when neither of them could refute that, “If it means that much to you,” He let out a sigh when Signal was clearly fretting the situation, “I do have another pair,” He showed Damian’s brand new skates with the tag still on them. “They’re my brother’s, and he doesn’t really like other people using his stuff, but I guess I’ll just have to make it up to him later.” Robin’s footing shifted slightly at the admission, “If they fit,” and they would, “You can wear them for the time being.” Damian had gone through the store's entire selection of ice skates before finally landing on the ones he’d liked. It had red stripes in various shades identical to Danny’s except his were blue.

Robin was hesitant to accept the skates from Danny, but he relented, and slipped them onto his feet. “It’s such a coincidence that Robin just so happens to have the exact same size as your brother?” Signal said loudly, a nervous laugh in his voice, “Your brother, who may possibly be scheduled to be here any second now. Not that Robin-” Robin tried to stand up in his new skates, and stumbled, Danny suspected on purpose, elbowing Signal right in the gut, effectively shutting him up.

“Don’t stray too far from me.” Robin said in an authoritative tone as they both made it onto the ice.

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Danny nodded, and then paused in thoughtfulness before turning to Robin in projected curiosity, “You do know how to skate right?” he asked pretending like he didn't already have the answer.

Robin's head turn was only a little rigid, “I suppose it never came across in my training.” he admitted quietly.

“Really?” Danny feigned surprise, “My brother doesn’t know how to skate either. You guys have a lot in common.” Robin stayed silent, but followed Danny prompts on how to skate as they found the clues on the ice while Signal searched everywhere else. Robin was quick to pick up the skill, and was able to keep up with Danny’s slower pace as they searched. Danny had been quick to catch Robin when he inevitably lost his balance. He made sure to keep the mood light with conversation and jokes, since Robin was clearly getting uneasy staying with him for so long.

Robin and Danny had finished searching before Signal had made his way back to them, and were left to wait for him. Robin, who had stayed a lot quieter than Danny knew Damian to be, “You seem to speak of your brother often.” He finally said, his voice quiet.

Danny tilted his head thoughtfully, “I guess I did.” he admitted easily.

There was a thick silence before Robin spoke again, “You,” he started, a nervous edge in his voice that made Danny listen closely, “seem fond of him.”

“I am.” The words left Danny without much thought. The speedy answer seemed to not be what Robin had been expecting, his head snapping at him and eyes trying to decipher Danny’s tells, “He’s my brother.” Danny shrugged without any further details, unbothered by the heavy gaze on him.

Robin blinked at him, body locked in place, and any emotion hidden by the whites of his domino mask. Signal landed softly in front of them, ending the conversation. They shared their findings, and the riddle was solved easily enough.

A few short moments passed before the spots next to Danny where the vigilantes had been only seconds earlier were filled by Damian and Duke. “I didn’t see you during the Riddler attack.” Damian said in lieu of a greeting, “Are you hurt?”

“No, I'm alright. Funny story, actually, you’ll never guess who I just met.” Danny pretended not to notice Duke squirm behind him, and quickly said that he had to leave to do something else.

Damian and Danny were quick to get on the ice with a still-thin crowd, “Woah, Damian I thought you said you didn't know how to skate.” Danny complemented easily.

“I don’t.” Damian answered defensively, and a little too insistent.

Danny decided to ignore it, “I guess you must just be a natural then. C’mon.” Challenging Damian to go faster, knowing he would have to listen to Tucker debrief him the internet’s version of what went down during their bi-weekly factimes.

---

Tim had arrived at the designated stadium about 30 minutes before any of the teams were scheduled to show up, right as the cleaning crew was finishing up. He snuck into the supply closet while no one was watching and slipped on a discarded janitor's uniform and confidently made his way into the stadium Danny’s game would be playing at. A few of his “co-workers” gave him quick “hurry up”s and “make it quicks”s since the news crew would be setting up soon. Tim nodded, and quickly went to the benches he knew Danny’s team would be assigned, and planted a little listening device there, and wired it to a secondary frequency he could sync with their comms. Making quick work, Tim left the stadium and waited at a nearby cafe until the others showed up.

They reconvened in the open concession area before going into the stands together. Since they had come in their civilian identities, per Tim’s recommendation, it would make more sense for them to be seen arriving together than separately. Most hockey games lasted around 60 minutes, and then assuming it took them 30 to get geared up, they’d still be able to make it to the sight of their case in time.

“Why do you think the perp would be at a junior league hockey game?” Dick asked, munching on some popcorn. Bruce waited expectantly for an answer next to him. Neither of them have caught on to Tim’s scheme yet.

Damian raised a brow at them, likely already having figured out the plan. Tim spoke before the brat could expose him, “Keep your eye on number 17 on the Fox’s team.” He said cryptically, leading them to their seats. He’d wait to connect their comms after they realized who they actually came here for.

At the hint, Dick just widened his eyes in realization. Jason, Damian, and Steph had no reaction, already knowing of Tim’s scheme. Bruce, still none the wiser, watched the players skate around the ice warming up as more of the crowd filtered in. He found the player wearing number 17 before he saw the lettering for the last name above it, and immediately swiveled his head to Tim demanding an explanation.

Tim crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the ice in front of him and his voice low so no one else could hear, “I said that ‘one of our main POI will be there’” He gestured vaguely to Danny, “I didn’t say it was a POI for the case.” He let that settle in before, “I wasn’t gonna let you guys blow him off for a second time.” He said pointedly, alluding to the time Danny had caught them in their impromptu briefing about the very case they were busting in a few hours.

“I didn't even realize…” Dick muttered to himself, a look of guilt heavy in his features as Bruce sat rigid in his own seat.

Tim supposed that he could understand where Dick had been coming from. If any of the rest of them had wanted the family to show up for them, which wasn’t often but not never, they would be loud and boisterous about it. Demanding even, knowing their right to be supported despite whatever case may be brewing in the background. And when they received explanations or rationale on why someone couldn’t make it, it was honest and usually had lives at stake, not obvious lies about business meetings and displaced butlers. Even apart from that, Tim had noticed how Danny seemed to assume that he would be a plus one to their plans, an addition that while welcomed wasn’t always warranted. Tim had noticed, because he knew what that was like.

Bruce had been given everything he could’ve ever wanted growing up, just by mentioning it in passing, because everyone was always watching him. Dick had gone from an only child buttered up in a circus to an only child buttered up by the entire country. Jason, while maybe not having the most attentive parents, had always been easy to declare when he wanted something. Damian, it was needless to say, but he grew up with the opposite problem to Danny and Tim, having more attention than he would be healthy, as an heir to the League of Assassins.

Tim had to fight to get any attention. He had fought his way into Robin, and fought his way onto the Young Justice. Tim had fought and won, so he kept fighting. But Danny hadn’t won enough to make him keep fighting. So Tim would just fight for him until Danny knew that there was something to fight for.

This game was different to the other ones Tim had gone to, the stadium was at least double in size and all the seats were filled. They had luckily managed to get seats close to the ice, right behind the camera crew who had yet to notice their presence. The camera crew was also a new addition, and the announcers that came with that. It was clear this game was a bigger deal than the others had been. Which was probably why Danny had attempted to have them there.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Gotham’s Regional Semifinals where we find the hockey team that will be representing Gotham in the upcoming Statewide Championships. For the past 3 years we’ve had matchups for the same teams in the semifinals, but it seems this year things are a little different.” Tim hooked the others into the listening device he planted in the sands and the hushed voices of Danny’s teammates filtered into their ear.

“That’s right, James. This year's line up has been usurped by a new team, the Arctic Foxes, who knocked out the usual competition of the Gotham Bats out in their very first qualifiers. And there have been a few interesting rumors going around about the Foxes and Wolves.”

“Word on the street is that one of the Wolves star players was originally a player for the Foxes. And if my sources are right, it’s the Wolf’s new number 71, Blake Green,” The crowd listened intently to the explanation, “But wouldn’t that mean that the Foxes are down a player? How did they manage to get all the way to the semis then, Scott?” The large camera panned over to show off the teams.

“Well James, it seems like luck was on the Fox's side. They managed to not only find a player to fill their spot, but it’s none other than Bruce Wayne’s most elusive newest addition.” The camera shifted to Danny, who looked surprised to be mentioned, “The lost son seemed to have found his way right in the ice rink.” Some of Danny’s teammates jeered at him jokingly and tried to get themselves in front with him, but the camera was quick to move away. Tim and the others could hear the kids joking around with each other while the announcers talked and got the crowd invested in the game.

“We’ll show that jackass not to mess with us.” One of the boys hissed angrily after the camera left.

“No way we're gonna let that deserter have the satisfaction of scoring on us.” The others make sounds of agreements. They must've been talking about their ex-teammate. His leaving must not have been amicable then.

“You gotta play twice as hard, Wayne.”

“Yeah, show them what you’re made of.”

“Alright.” Danny laughed along easily.

“Oh look, Ethan,” Tim could make out one boy pointing to somewhere on the stands. Another boy, presumably Ethan, looked in the direction, and waved at an older woman and a girl in the stands.

“Crazy they could make it.” A boy from before spoke, his words pointed, “To what may or may not be our biggest game yet.”

“Benji, let it go.” Danny said, annoyed in a way that made it clear that they had discussed this before.

“I just think it’s pretty wild how all of them just had a perfectly crafted excuse to not come.” Benji said gruffly, and the look of guilt that was plastered on all their faces as they listened to the conversation didn’t seem like enough retribution.

“Even after you literally asked them, too.” Another one piped in.

“You guys are more pressed about this than I am.” Danny laughed dryly, “Besides, it’s not like I actually expected them to show up, anyway.” A gut punch, but well deserved.

“Dude, who hurt you?” Them, apparently.

The announcers began concluding their introductions, “-and without any further ado,” at the cue, the camera panned over the crowd to get their reaction, coincidentally gliding right in front of the full house of Waynes. “Was that the Waynes?” The announcer’s voice shifted into pure shock forgetting whatever he was about to say. At the words, Danny’s head snapped around to look at the screen, and even from his seat, Tim could see the surprise on his face. As Danny turned to scan the crowd, his eyes snapped to Bruce and Dick then the others. The announcer cleared his throat, “Well, let’s get this game started, then.”

“Surprise, I guess?” Ethan laughed lightly.

They couldn’t see Danny’s reaction since he turned around with the beeper signaling the start of the game. Their coach instructed the first batch onto the ice, and Danny and a few of his teammates headed through the gate and onto the ice. The game had started off like any other, and the whole line of Waynes made sure to show their favorite player their support.

Number 71 from the Wolves, was always on Danny’s tail, which Tim thought was a little strange since he was an offensive player like Danny. He supposed it had been some kind of strategy the other team had cooked up since 71 seemed to be so much larger and bigger than Danny. But Danny had easily managed to out maneuver him. As the timer ticked, number 71’s plays only seemed to get more and more aggressive and targeted.

Tim had only noticed the buildup in hindsight. 71 had the puck and was surrounded by the Foxes ready to steal the puck from his team, and intercept the pass. From Tim’s spot, he calculated that the most safest pass would likely be to the Wolve’s number 53, since he was the least guarded. While Danny was squarely blocking the third offensive player. The other Foxes were ready to speed off in any direction, and the offensive Wolves were watching them like prey.

71 took the shot. But he didn’t aim for 53. And he hadn’t tried to get it to any of the other Wolves either. With what might have been a show of skill in any other context, the puck landed squarely and hard at Danny’s face. So hard, in fact, that it sent not only Danny down, but also the Wolf behind him.

The referee was quick to step in, stopping the game. Danny’s team outraged, the ones in the stands throwing curses and threats, while the ones on the ice were actively behind and held back by some other people in uniform. 71 looked down at the stunned Danny with a mocking smile, clearly proud of himself despite the penalty. The hit had been aimed cleanly at right under where Danny’s helmet ended, so it made direct contact with his nose. It was probably broken.

The announcers expressed their shock as both teams were made to return to their benches. The Fox’s coach met Danny right in front of the team’s benches, and talked to him while the medic made his way over. The whole line of off-duty vigilantes watched in a quiet anger, knowing there wasn’t much any of them could reasonably do in the situation. Most had just taken to yelling curses and threats (Jason and Dick), while others took to quietly plotting the demise of his entire lineage (Steph and Tim).

They listened closely to what Danny said to the coach and medic. “I’m fine, really.” He sounded more exasperated than anything.

“Your nose is clearly broken.” The coach, presumably, insisted.

“Sit down so I can take a look at it. It’ll probably need a stint.” There was some shuffling.

“You’re gonna put me back out there.” Danny said, insistently, “Right?”

There was a pause, “Let’s see how bad it is first, kid.”

“Pretty sure I heard a crack.” Someone said despairingly, sounding worried.

“Shut up.” Someone else hissed.

“Sorry.”

“This will need an x-ray, but I suspect at least mild fracturing. Danny, I'll need you to come to the on-site exam room with me.”

“No, really. It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Danny tried again.

“You can’t play with a fractured nose, Danny.” the coach said firmly. The other boys listened with a hushed whispering Tim couldn't catch.

“I suspect the lack of pain is simply from the adrenaline rush.” Danny didn’t say anything. And Tim watched from the cameras as Danny was led away from the bench by the medic. “You can leave your gear here for now.”

Danny handed his gloves to the coach, his stick still by the bench where he had been sitting. “Your helmet.” the coach reminded Danny after a moment. And without any of the calmness he had been expressing before, he threw his helmet into the bleachers, a silent anger growing in his face, obvious even in the distant camera.

The resounding thud made them flinch to the comms, and there was static for the duration of Danny leaving the rink. The announcers chattering away in their mics, and the crowd joining in.

“He’s pissed.” A teammate whistled.

“Obviously.”

“Well, it’s just, I’ve never seen Danny pissed.”

“Nose-goes for whoever tells him to turn the chill off.”

“It’s not even that cold.”

“You’re literally shivering, Noah.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Are you gonna let him play again, Coach?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, now do I?” there was an edge of eagerness in his tone. The game continued despite Danny’s absence.

Bruce, Duke and Dick had gone to see Danny in the infirmary, while the rest of them watched the match, not wanting to overload the staff, and were promised updates. By the time Danny had returned to the game, nose clearly stinted and bandaged, the Foxes were in the lead with an unexpected 1-0. And by the end, they won with a blistering 3-0, both of the others earned by Danny with a point to prove. The crowd loved it, and the absolute defeat the Wolves clearly felt gave Tim a little satisfaction.

Only a little, though.

After the game, Jason, Dick and Tim hung back while the others went to suit up, the unexpected turn of events in the game messing with the original plan. They would join him after a quick congratulations. That had been the plan at least. When they got down to where both teams were filtering off the ice, casually conversing among each other about whatever was reasonable to speak about after a match.

Number 71, it seemed, had not been able to take out all of whatever vendetta he had against Danny on the ice. And while Danny’s back was still turned to him, and none of the Foxes paying the Wolves much mind, aimed a full fisted punch at Danny’s head.

Jason, Dick and Tim had all noticed just as 71’s plan was launched into action, but still much too far to be able to intercede without their gear. Dick tried to warn Danny, but there was nothing they could do but watch.

Watch as Danny moved his head clear out of the way, circling back up to punch 71 square in the jaw with a nasty uppercut. 71 stumbled back in shock and the force of the impact, a bruise blistering on his chin now. Danny grabbed him by the collar of his jersey, and dragged him down from the notable height difference to have them nose to broken nose. “If you wanted a fight, you could’ve just asked.” Danny smiled sickly sweet, voice dripping in a vicious sort of anger. And Tim saw the Danny that was Talia’s first son, the one, who if it were known he was still alive, would have been the heir to the Demon’s Head.

“Replacement.” 71 spat in Danny’s face, despite the hesitancy in his eyes.

Danny let go in disgust, but before he could react, his teammate stepped up, the name Henderson across his back, shoving 71 out of Danny’s face. “You have no right to say that. Deserter.”

“Benji,” 71 started, startled “you’re seriously defending him?”

“Don’t call me that, like we're friends.” He snapped back. “We’re not.” The Wolves and Foxes both watched the interaction, waiting for their sign to jump in.

71 looked like he was going to say something else, but he saw the three had made their way right behind the Foxes. And even if Tim wasn’t as physically intimidating as some of the players, anyone would think twice before leaping into a fight with Jason and Dick. 71, understanding he couldn’t win even with the other Wolves willing to step in, took a retreating step back.

71 looked at Danny, blue-gray eyes clear and stormy with a rage hidden just under the surface, fist balling into a fist before remembering their surroundings and turning around. “Freak.” He muttered.

Tim saw Danny’s shoulder twitch back at the word, a reaction so small he almost missed it. Dick already held Jason back from getting into a fight with a volley of kids much younger than them, but Tim didn’t hold the same reservations. Jason was not far behind as the other players moved into action. With mobility that likely wouldn’t be expected from him, Tim landed a punch square in 71’s jaw with a satisfying crack, not caring about the cameras watching.

Helen of Troy may have been the face that launched a thousand ships, but Blake Green was the jerk that launched a thousand punches.

---

The case had gone as planned, and the gang had been dealt with. The bats had one final meeting in the cave before they would head upstairs to check on Danny.

“Why’d it take you guys so long to meet up with us, anyway?” Steph asked, absentmindedly braiding her hair, and her gear half removed. She didn't really care what Bruce had to say about procedures of uniform in the cave, she was not going to risk getting another acne breakout for his stupid rules. Sweat, and a full face mask were a diabolical combination for teenage girls. Not that anyone else except Damian had been wearing their masks anyway.

Much to her surprise, it was Babs who answered over the speaker of the BatComputer, “Oh, let me answer that.” Her tone filled with barely hidden agitation that told Steph the answer was juicer than she had been expecting. The screen shifted away from the case file and onto a video with thousands of views. Bruce sent a look of ‘What did you do now’ to the three that had stayed behind, since they clearly knew a renewed scowl on their faces.

The video started off with all the hockey players filing out of the ice rink when the game was over. Neither team acknowledged each other. The Foxes, happy with another victory, were playing around, while the Wolves stayed in a forlorn silence at their loss. Steph wasn’t sure what exactly had initiated the action, but one of the Wolves, she recognized him to be the one that had smacked Danny in the face at the start of the match, went in for a punch while Danny’s back was still turned.

Bruce seeing the action before Danny at the time, stiffened. As the video played out, Steph let out an impressive whistle at the move Danny pulled, righteously angry at the wannabe assaulter. Words were exchanged, and clearly the Foxes had some long standing beef with the guy. But it hadn’t been anything of note outside of a team to team aggression that was common in many sports, especially hockey.

That was until the bastard called Danny a freak. Duke, who had been fighting to remain conscious during their whole debrief, flinched. Even the boys behind Danny, with matching jerseys looked stunned at the comment. Danny’s face was fully visible on the screen, and it had remained unshaken by the word. If it were anyone else, Steph would’ve thought it didn’t bother him.

But Steph knew how an unbothered Danny would react. The unwavering confidence, and unending self-assurance gave Steph a lot of leeway in the things she could say to Danny without either of them being seriously hurt. And Steph took full advantage when she realized how large her new playground was. No matter what she said, she’d just earn a scoff, or a laugh-along, an eye roll, or a “Seriously, Steph?” along with various sarcastic comments or some combination of them. But there was always a response. And the carefully still face that didn’t react wasn’t it. And sure Steph said some pretty bottom of the barrel sh*t to him, but she got that right because she was Steph and he was Danny.

Who the hell was this Sid the Sloth Cursed Version to talk to Danny like that? If she had been there she would’ve-

Well it seemed like her presence hadn’t been required. The crack of Tim’s punch at the guy echoed through the still room, satisfyingly. The other players joined in soon enough and it was a whole brawl with the match officiants needing to step in while the Fox’s coach pointedly did nothing to stop his players.

The video ended with the silence echoing in the cave. The urge to go out in her Spoiler suit and give that piece of sh*t a piece of her mind was strong. Acne be damned. But Danny was upstairs by himself after the whole day of events. It seemed they had all reached the same consensus, wordlessly changing out of their uniforms quickly and going upstairs, not minding the mass in which they appeared.

Within moments, they were face to face with a frazzled (by Alfred standards) Alfred with a plate of cookies in his hand. “Alfred, what’s wrong?” Dick asked, eyebrows etching together.

“It seems… that Young Master Danny has been displaced.”

“What do you mean, Alfred?” Bruce asked, worry heavy in his face.

“Young Master Danny returned a little over an hour and a half ago to the Manor,” He recounts, “and he seemed quite disengaged despite his reported victory.” For reasons obvious to any of them, “He’d returned to the kitchen while I was still preparing these,” He gestured to the cookies, “And informed me that he would be going out to clear his head. The gates haven’t been opened or tampered with by any measures, and none of the security details indicate that anyone has left or entered the Manor. Yet, the Young Master seems to have disappeared.”

A heavy silence loomed over all of them. “Do you think Mother took him?” Damian asked.

“If Talia took him, she would’ve made it known.” Dick said, looking through his phone to double check if the gates had been opened or if any of the walls around the Manor had been infiltrated.

“We should split up,” Tim suggested quickly, eyes glazing over something on his own phone screen that Steph couldn’t see. Looking around, they took a head count. Cass was still in Hong Kong, and Duke had gone off to bed already. “Steph, Jason, Damian and I will go look around outside.” It made sense for more of them to be sent outside since there was more ground to be covered, “Bruce and Dick, look around the house. Babs is trying to keep an eye on street footage around Gotham.” No one argued with the pairings, and headed off to look for their missing brother.

Jason and Damian had gone off to the west, while Steph and Tim looked east. “Why is this place so god damn big?” Steph muttered after 10 minutes had already passed and they hadn’t heard anything back or found any trace of him. Worry thrummed in her chest. The bastard that said that sh*t to him was definitely going to get his fill of the consequences. Tim, who had already given the guy bruises to last a few days, looked like he was on the same boat.

A few feet away they heard some rustling. Not checking to see if Tim was following, knowing he was, Steph rushed to the sound. Steph let out a breath of relief when she saw Danny walking around, leaves stuck in his hair, dirt on his hoodie and sweatpants, but no more harmed than he had been when he’d come home. “Danny!” She jumped him with a hug.

Danny, surprised, turned to the sound of his name just in time to catch her. “Steph?” He asked, confused by her behavior, but hugged her back nonetheless.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Her worry turned into a (justified) fury, “You just disappeared!”

“Alfred said he couldn’t find you anywhere.” Tim explained, texting the others, and examining Danny for any injuries.

“Oh,” Danny said, genuine surprise in his eyes, “I didn’t know he was looking for me.” The words chewed at Steph’s heart. Did he really think they wouldn’t care if he just disappeared like that?

“We were all looking for you.” Tim offered, his voice distant with a delicacy that told Steph that he understood where Danny was coming from.

Danny looked at Tim, wide eyed, trying to tell if he was joking. “Oh.” Was all he said. Steph knew about Tim’s childhood, and how his parents were preoccupied with other things to really be there for him. Danny never really talked about the people that raised him. The friends he grew up with, his older sister, his aunt who he spent the summers with were easy topics. But the people who he’d called Mom and Dad were never things he broached or lingered on more than he had to.

Steph wondered what about the comment had bothered Danny so much. She had first assumed it had just been the clear degradation of him being a meta. Danny had been quite sensitive to their reaction when they had found out, and it had taken many reassurances for him to be comfortable using it as freely as he now did. But to keep such a still face, and hold his reaction enough to make it seem like it didn’t bother him at all came with practice.

The same instinct she had honed over her many cases told her it had something to do with those very people. “Where’d you go, anyway?” Steph asked, not wanting her thoughts to show.

Danny looked behind him at the bushes he had pulled himself out of. “I uh,” He started, seeming embarrassed, “I can show you, I guess.” He said after a moment with an awkward laugh.

Steph agreed out of curiosity, as they followed Danny through the bushes that unexpectedly led down a mulled down path through the grass. They walked in a silence that Steph wasn’t sure ever existed with Tim and Danny in the same room, but with both of them lost in their own heads, Steph decided not to disturb the so-called peace. After a few minutes, they came to another burst of shrubbery that Danny climbed his way through. No wonder his hair was covered in leaves. Whoever designed this spot clearly did not want it to be found easily.

Once Steph made it through the bushes, she understood why. In the center of the circle of bushes was a little tombstone with the name “Thomas Wayne Jr.” Engraved into it, ‘12 February - 23 February 20XX’ right under it.

It was the kid that Danny had been switched with. But why would he come here? Her confusion must have been evident, “Alfred showed me this place the first night I stayed here.” He explained looking at the pristine headstone. Steph tried to imagine looking at a tombstone with her name that wasn’t hers on it while she was still very alive in front of it. It was clear Danny came here often, both with the ease he navigated them here, and the way his shoulders slumped in a familiar comfort.

“Do you…” Steph started, trailing off because ‘talk to him’ sounded like a weird thing to say.

“Yeah.” Danny said quietly. Steph knew that Danny was friends with ghosts thanks to his parents' research, so she supposed this was his way of reaching out to the kid whose life he was forced to take up.

They stayed there for a moment, before Tim broke his streak of silence, “The others are waiting for us, we should head back.”

When Danny was expectedly shrouded with a thousand “Are you okay?” and “Where did you go?” and “What were you thinking?” Despite his look of surprise at the concern, he didn’t actually tell anyone else where he had been. Dick suggested they have a movie night as a reprieve from their day’s worth of events, and they all huddled into the closest movie room and quickly dissolved into arguments about what to watch.

Steph had gone to grab a sip of water, where she saw Tim standing right outside of the dining room doors. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he gestured for her to join him.

“-you’d gone off to?” Alfred was saying.

“I was just by the grave, Alfred. I didn’t mean to worry you, sorry.” Danny responded, sincerity in his tone.

“I see.” Alfred responded, “I’ve told you before that you are allowed to come and go as you please, Young Master Danny. There is no reason for you to be ashamed of your actions.”

“Thanks, Alfred.”

“It is my pleasure.” There was a pause, and with a hesitancy that Alfred didn’t often show, “Master Danny, if you don’t mind me asking.” Danny hummed for him to go on, “Young Master Thomas’s resting site was one of the first places I’d checked after I noticed you weren’t in the garden.” Steph shared a look of surprise with Tim at the admission. There was a beat of silence where Danny didn’t say anything, “The others are likely impatient for your arrival, let's make haste.” Alfred said, easily sidestepping the conversation.

“Okay.” Danny said easily, not addressing the other topic.

It would’ve been impossible for Danny to have snuck out and back in without any of them realizing, none of the sensors or alarms going off, and be back in time for them to have found him in the backyard. But how else could he have gone right under Alfred’s nose, and nearly disappeared right in the house he’d been working in for longer than even Bruce had been alive? Something was definitely strange here, and Steph could tell Tim thought so too.

Two days later, a boy with gravity-less white hair, green eyes with constellations shifting about in them, and a black and white suit claiming that he was a ghost named Phantom that “lived nearby” and “was just out exploring” when he happened across the Batcave. Steph came to her own conclusions on who he may have been when he was alive. He looked the same age as Danny, similar builds, and the same height, and maybe they would’ve looked more similar if Phantom wasn’t blue-skinned and nonhuman in ways that were impossible to ignore. He floated around the cave like he was swimming through a pool of water. The way Bruce’s eyes followed him everywhere and hadn’t immediately chased him away told Steph that he thought so too.

---

Danny had been excited for their championship match, eager to show off another victory and earn the title of Gotham’s Team. Dick, Tim, and the others had made their support apparent, and cheered him on even before he’d left the Manor. Bruce had profusely apologized for not being able to come, and had promised that he’d be watching the broadcast the whole time. Danny had appreciated the sentiment, and told Bruce as much. Duke had also been apologetic about not being able to make it, and Danny knew it was because of his job as Signal and had assured him it was fine.

But the cheer had only evaporated as the match grew nearer. “I have a really bad feeling about today, guys.” Danny said again, his nerves on edge with a sense of foreboding notting in his stomach.

“You’re just nervous, Danny.” Ash said, putting the last of his gear on.

“Yeah, dude, just relax.” Keith tried, already prepped in all his gear while they waited for the others.

“I mean this is the championship, and the Robins have a winning streak of almost six years.” Liam chewed at his lips, the only one more nervous than Danny by the looks of it.

“Shut up, man.” Logan hissed, elbowing him, “It’s gonna be fine. Just play like always and we’ll have a win in the bag.”

Danny didn’t know how to tell them that his nerves definitely weren’t for the game, but something bigger. Like there was some kind of threat looming over the horizon. The striking awareness that Vlad nor any of the rogues had tried to attack him ever since he’d come to Gotham made his hairs stand on edge. The thought that Vlad had given up bidding for the seat as King was laughable. Danny, knowing he couldn’t keep an eye on Vlad all the time, especially since he was in Gotham while Vlad had remained in Amity (he checked), had assigned ghosts to keep watch. He’d considered sending in a spy to get a closer look at whatever he was up to, but ghost spies were notoriously hard to come by or train, and he didn’t want to send them in unnecessary danger when the situation still seemed manageable.

Benji clasped Danny on the shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. “It’s a hockey game, not a fight to the death. I know you're set on winning, but it won’t be the end of the world if we lose.” He said encouragingly when Danny looked up at him confused.

“Wayne, Henderson. Get a move on.” Coach snapped from the door, and Danny realized they were the only ones still left in the changing rooms.

Benji gave him another encouraging look and led the way into the blinding lights, and cameras following their moves, and cheering crowds. Danny had thought their last game had been crowded, but this was next level. Wes and Tucker had not let him forget how viral his last game had gone after he took the puck to the face then proceeded to punch the guy later (he deserved it, they’d agreed). Fortunately, his nose was almost entirely healed now with only a sliver of a bruise left.

As they got on the ice, Danny wondered why the crowd was chanting in sync, all saying the same thing. He ignored it until Samuel had come over to nudge him, “Dude they love you.” He laughed. And Danny realized they were cheering for him. “I’m a little jealous.” Samuel added, lightheartedly before skating off for the rest of the warmups.

As he left, one of the players in the Robin’s yellow and green came up to Danny, “Sorry, miss. Figure skating’s not until Tuesday.” He bit sarcastically, making a jab at the fact that Danny wasn’t as muscular or large as the other guys. Being half-ghost made muscles hard, okay.

Danny turned to him, catching the 36 on his jersey, as he circled around Danny like a bird of prey. Danny leaned his head closer to the guy, and he came to a stop, “Did you say something? I couldn’t hear you over the crowd cheering my name.” He said pointedly louder than the guy had been just to drive his point of f*ck Off. Noah and Theo who’d been close enough to hear, laughed as 36 could do nothing but skate away. A satisfying look of annoyance on his face.

The game started, with Danny’s nerves only getting worse. But as soon as the hockey stick was in his hands and the puck was gliding with him, he ignored it. Everything had gone fine until the third quarter of the game when Danny had been put in with the scoreboard displaying a 1-0 for the Robins. The puck slid, glided and skated between the players as the clock ticked away.

Danny had been locked in a face off with 36, a formidable player. Danny had held the perfect shot to aim for a goal and even the scoreboard. But 36 had the puck, and had gone for an escape. Danny had managed to lock him in still near to the goal, and found the perfect opening to gain the puck back.

In any other situation, Danny would’ve snatched it away and started racing towards the goal. But the familiar twinge of his ghost sense in his gut that flared out through his teeth dictated his moves. With the skill and instit* he’d honed through his many fights with the Rouges, he maneuvered his hockey stick to not grab the puck, but pull 36 away from his spot on the ice. The sudden momentum and force caused him to lose his balance.

The announcers and crowd were blindsided by the move, “What the fu-” 36 started angrily, but the ceiling crashing down in the exact spot he’d been standing stopped him in his tracks. He was half standing, stunned at the sight.

Danny pulled him up quickly, eyes locked on two of Vlad’s vultures screeching into the high ceilings of the stadium. No doubt here for him. “Go!” He snapped at him, punching him towards the gate where the other players were quickly being filtered out by the coaches and referees. Danny looked at the Robin’s goalie, whose fearful eyes tried to find a way to get over the rubble that was blocking him. Danny sensed the Vulture dive for him from behind, and he ducked just in time for it to only grab his helmet. The vultures were never the brightest and Danny knew it would take both of them a few minutes to realize they hadn’t been successful. A few minutes that Danny used to unhook the goal from its spot on the ice, and get the goalie out of his confines. The crowd in the stands were in chaos as the personnel tried to evacuate from a threat none of them had encountered before. Once the goalie was free, he was quick to skate away to where Danny was being called to, most of the players also being shooed to safety.

Before Danny could get off the ice, one of the Vultures flew right at him from the front and he quickly skated off to the side, only to notice he couldn’t see the second one. He turned around just in time to watch it come straight for his ankle. Danny yelped in surprise as it took him by the foot, eager to fly away from the skylight it had created.

Danny, glad he had made the decision to make his ice abilities public, sent follies of bladed ice at the vulture. It screeched as it dropped him on instinct when one landed squarely in its stomach, only for the second one to break his fall by catching his arm seconds later. Danny tried to throw more ice at it, but the vulture pointedly had more mobility to dodge than Danny had to aim, and none of the shots landed. Danny could hear the familiar voices of Jason and Tim shouting for him, but he didn’t have the time to give them any reassurance.

The vultures were intent on kidnapping him for whatever business they had been sent on. The one Danny had injured had already retreated, relying on his partner to get the job done. Danny raced through his options. There was no way he could get out of this with just his ice and human limitations. He could impale the vulture, but he wasn’t willing to go all out in public where no doubt his abilities would garner unwanted attention. After all, there was only so much a meta would be expected to be capable of, especially one who was allegedly noncombatant. Danny had more than enough experience in using his ghost powers without getting caught, after all he did get through all of three grades in Amity while ghosts were not shy about attacking him in daylight.

But he’d already used his ice, so any additional ghostliness would leave side effects. As the sky only got more and more closer, Danny was running out of options. Calculating the most subtle choice, Danny twisted his body up and used the blade of his skates to strike a dangerous blow at the mindless creature. He put only just enough ectoplasm that the attack would have its intended effect but not enough that its trademark green hue would be visible to onlookers.

A painful screech erupted from the vulture, and it let go of Danny’s arm as it fled behind its counterpart, leaving Danny to fall the space between the ceiling and the floor. Ice, being his core’s main affinity, gave Danny almost indefinite use of it without having to go ghost. The more he used it, the more his body would try to push him to a death-like state, since it was after all, a ghost ability. And ghosts were, by definition, dead. But it would take a full-fledged fight for Danny to have to go ghost just using his ice. But his other powers didn't give him that much leeway. They required him to go ghost. And sure he could use the more simple ones like intangibility and invisibility almost instinctively, but ectoplasm manipulation was a hard call, no matter how little he used it. Which had been the whole reason he had been forced to learn to fight without his powers.

As Danny’s body was enveloped in gravity’s embrace, rather than focus on catching himself, or finding a way to break his fall, he only had one mantra repeating in his head.

Don’t go ghost.

Don’t go ghost.

Don’t go ghost.

He hit the floor hard on his back, and an unfamiliar pain shot through him as his efforts to not shift caused his mind to go foggy and his vision to blur, the sounds around him muddled together barely distinguishable.

---

Dick, Damian, and Steph had rushed off to go change so they could stop the new rogues, while Jason and Tim had gone off to where the players were gathered to check on Danny. Jason wasn’t sure how he’d been able to sense the incoming attack in time to move the other player out of the way, and for just a moment, Jason wondered if Danny had felt the same sense of uneasiness that had been shrouding him since he’d gotten to the stadium.

He didn’t have time to linger on it though, as he pushed through the crowd to get to his brother, Tim not far behind. They’d alerted Signal, but according to Babs, he was on the other side of the city and it would take him at least ten minutes to get there. 10 minutes they might not have. None of them had ever seen these zombie-vulture things that looked like they were aiming just for Danny.

That didn’t make any sense though, why would the weird rogue be after Danny. There was a heat in Jason’s gut when they finally got close enough to watch the vulture come for Danny’s feet as he tried to follow the goalie out of the rink. Some of the other players had refused to leave until Danny had gotten out, despite the workers telling them they needed to evacuate.

The heat felt a lot like the pit rage, just minus the rage. No, that wasn’t right. The anger and need for- for something was still there. But it was different. It wasn’t undirected rage at the world that pushed Jason to the brink of no return every time he wasn’t able to push it back. It was deeper and hotter and sharper, more directed. But at what? He couldn’t tell.

Jason yelled for Danny, as the vulture tried to fly away. Danny, resourcefully, shot ice at the vultures. Edges sharp and cutting through their wings and some parts of their skin. One hit managed to be aimed well enough, despite his awkward angle, to actually injure the freaky looking bird, and it let him go in pain, and flew away without its prisoner.

The other vulture, still mostly uninjured, grabbed him by the arm before he could get away. Where the f*ck were Nightwing, Robin and Spoiler? The safehouse wasn’t far, they should’ve been here by now. Were there more creatures outside? Still at least one of them should’ve been able to slip away to help. Tim was trying to get to Babs who was keeping them updated, a look of helplessness and fear in his eyes, unable to do anything while Danny fought alone.

Danny tried throwing more ice at his new captor but eventually stopped, and Jason wondered if that had been a stretch of his ability to use ice. After all, there was nothing but the moisture in the air for him to freeze. The sharp hotness in Jason’s chest grew stronger with the sense of helplessness, and a need to move. To do something. He didn’t know how to stop the vultures. He was so f*cking useless.

Danny, not giving up, contorted his body impressively, and slashed the vulture in its stomach with the blade of his skate. The second vulture screeched loudly, and it echoed through the stadium. It retreated, leaving nobody to catch Danny in his descent to the hard surface of the floor. Tim, not waiting any longer, rushed through the open door, onto the ice.

Jason’s attention, though, was caught on something else. As the vulture flew away in its pain, and Danny fell there was white that bled into his roots, slipping slowly to the tips of his hair. A white that Jason associated with the skunk tip of his hair. And Phantom. Phantom, Danny’s close friend. Friends so close, they were constantly and accurately up to date on anything that may have occurred to the other. Friends with physical similarities so close, that one may, without color or the ghost-factor, would’ve assumed them to be twins. Perhaps even the same person.

They were the same person. Danny was Phantom. Phantom was Danny.

The realization hit Jason with such surety that he wasn’t sure how he’d never connected it before. Danny was Phantom. The not pit-rage, was strikingly similar to the feeling he got when he was with Phantom. His core, Phantom had said, it reacted the same to both of them. Secret identities don’t really work on ghosts. That’s what Phantom had said. He’d always associated Danny with Phantom. Just in the wrong way.

Pushing the realization aside for later, Jason followed Tim and the other player relieved of the danger of the vultures thanks to Danny. None of them were able to get to Danny before his body slammed against the hard surface of the ice. Stark white hair, in place of black framed his face. The impact knocked the air out of him, and Tim scrambled to try to check his pulse before disregarding it and going for his phone.

“This isn’t the time to be texting the group chat.” Jason snapped at Tim, trying for a pulse that had to be there. How could Danny be Phantom, if Danny was alive, and Phantom was a ghost and ghosts were dead?

“I’m checking his vitals.” Tim screamed at him in a fear induced panic they had long been trained out of, a vivid panic in his eyes as he pressed buttons on his phone.

“You put a monitor on him?” Jason asked surprise, demure slipping, “Does he know?” Jason couldn’t find a pulse. Danny’s hair had gone white like Phantom’s but his skin was still its usual tan, and not Phantom’s blue-ish hue. What did that mean? Why couldn’t he find his pulse?

“Of course he f*cking knows, Jason.” His voice only grew more agitated. His eyes scanning across his phone screen, “sh*t.” He hissed, putting the phone down.

“Is he dead?” The kid Danny had pulled out of the way, asked, voice horrified.

“No.” Jason snapped quickly, “Tim, what did it say?”

Tim hesitated, and horror set into Jason’s gut. “Shut up.” A voice groaned, “Why are you guys so loud?” Danny's words slurred together, squirming uncomfortably. All the heads snapped to him, ignoring the vigilantes that started pooling into the room.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked, helping him sit up.

Robin rushed to them, scanning him with the holographic monitor that was in all their suits. The bat version would be more accurate than whatever Tim had managed to get on Danny. Robin’s jaw clenched at whatever he saw.

“He has a concussion.” Tim told them, not waiting for Robin to share his findings. “We need to keep him conscious.”

Spoiler came up next, “The ambulance is on the way. 2 minutes.” Horrible f*cking day for a Jutice Leauge meeting, huh, Bruce.

“Uh, what color is the sky?” One of the kids asked him, in an effort to stop Danny’s eyes from closing on them.

“Green.” Danny answered, neck seemingly unable to hold the weight of his head steadily.

“Holy sh*t, we lost him.” Another boy cried.

“Ask him something else,” Tim said raptly, “What’s the square root of 657?”

“25.632.” He said easily, voice meshing. Jason gave them both a look, but he saved his comments for later.

“Okay, we’re good. For now.” Tim breathed.

“Who’s the president?” One of the kids tried.

“Lucius Fox.” The beats between each syllable of the name getting longer and longer.

“What star system are we in?” Nightwing forced his voice to stay even and professional, and lighthearted in the way Nightwing always was. But the only response he got was Danny’s head falling limp in Jason’s hand, as the paramedics rushed through the door.

-Aftermath-

When Danny woke up, he found himself in Clockwork’s Tower, in the room he knew to be the most secluded, in the heart of the tower. He was first faced by the wall gears that would continue to rotate for as long as time passed, a gear for every reality, and a piece for every dimension in it. It was infinite, and a sight almost as magnificent as the infinite constellations. Danny next realized that he was in his human form, and one of the more reflective gears showed that his hair had gone white. As the gear moved, he saw the row of people standing behind him.

He turned. Or rather, the room turned for him. The wall of gears were to his back, and the line up of some of his most trusted and close friends faced him. They were on one knee bent with their hand resting on their core, weapons laid out at their feet, and head bowed to their destined king. “Rise.” Phantom said, immediately knowing the severity of whatever information was about to be offered to him. Danny tried to shift himself into his Phantom form as a show of respect to his Court, something that usually came so easily, but now seemed unfeasible.

They stood in front of him, heads straight and at attention. “I’ve summoned you to a dreamscape, My King. Your physical form is confined to the form of your body currently.” Nocturne explained, noticing his efforts.

In the reflection on Pandora’s helmet, Danny could see his hair slowly seeping back to its usual black. “I see.” He nodded. Even if this may have been a room of his friends, Pandora and Princess Dora had both explained the importance of displaying the proper behavior while the Court was in session.

“We apologize for summoning you without forewarning, Your Eminence.” Clockwork bowed, his form remained to his older self.

Knowing not to show too much familiarity, “Go on.” Danny said, brows blending together as he tried to think what could have possibly happened for an emergency hearing like this. Even his entire Court had not been able to be present.

“As you’ve instructed us, we’ve sent only our most qualified to scout the actions of the Rogues who threaten your throne, and their current leader, Plasmius.” Fright Knight began.

“I’ve received your reports as scheduled.”

Firebolt, who’d he’d itoduce to Dick and Bruce as ‘Luke’ at their chance meeting, “Our most recent reports show that their forces have nearly doubled within just our last check in.” Danny’s stomach twisted at that, “We have reason to suspect that within his human persona as Vladimer Masters, he’s been amassing some form of weapon, and we’ve received no signal for almost a fifth of our scouts since their incidental encounter.” Plasmius is working on something strong enough for it to wipe out an entire fraction of some of their most trained combatants. Bolt always took great pride in having the most suitable squadrons for missions and patrols, he wouldn’t have sent out anyone who was less than overqualified for the job. By his already astronomically high standards.

“What do we know about the weapon so far?” Danny asked, ready to commit everything to memory. This wasn’t information they could write down and risk it getting compromised. Even within the walls of the Keep, they couldn’t assure its security.

“Next to nothing. There’s split reports. Some say it’s a beam-like weapon. Other’s called it an indestructible armor, reminiscent of the one you wore during your duel with the previous High Lord. Those who were able to get away, were only able to do so by their distance to the weapon, it seems.” Firebolt concluded.

“Send me a copy of their individual reports, and health evaluations.” Maybe Danny could find something from their recounts.

“Understood, My Liege.” Firebolt bowed, his sword pointed to the floor with his hilt over his left shoulder. A warrior’s sign of servitude and respect.

“Was that all?” Danny asked, his mind already racing at what Vlad could possibly be up to. His silence, his parents relocation, and now this?

“If I may, Your Highness.” Pandora spoke up for the first time.

“Speak.” What more could there be?

“I empathize with your reason to not send spies into the enemy’s hold previously. But I fear, if we do not proceed in haste with arranging them, it will prove to be far too late.” Pandora was Danny’s mentor in almost all aspects of being the predestined ruler of the Realms, and one of those many aspects was strategy. She found it integral that Danny learn from multiple teachers, but she was the one he turned to the most. And what she could not teach him the Princess Dora would, but she was not present at the moment.

“I see.” Danny said, contemplating the decision.

“My Prince, I need not remind you that Plasmius is showing signs of launching an attack soon. I would put little trust in his honor and integrity for he is much unlike you, we must start preparing for his assault now. While there is time to prepare.” Pandora added, urging Danny towards a decision.

Danny stayed silent for a moment. The people of the Realms were his responsibility. One he would have to shoulder and bear even if Plasmius was somehow able to defeat him in battle and earn his position of King of the Realms. He saved his people from a tyrant and he would have to prepare them for another. “Prepare the residents of the Realms for an evacuation. I’ll name you in charge of the matter for now, Pandora. You have my authority on any matter pertaining to it, and you will respond only to me.”

“Understood, My Prince.” She bowed like Firebolt had. Pandora, while Danny was not old enough to wear the Crown in its entirety, acted as his Regent in all matters of domestic dimplacy, along with her selection of the Court Members. She would have it handled excellently.

“Fright Knight,” Danny turned to the King’s Knight, “Have daily patrols sent out around our borders through all the Realm. Ensure our safety until all residents are evacuated within measure.” The Fright Knight and his Knights of Fright were the best of their respective fields, and it was one of the highest of honors to serve as an extension of the King’s Knight. They would complete their tasks with nothing but the utmost sincerity.

“Understood, My King.” He bowed, kneeling at the order, unlike the others.

“Firebolt,” While Fright Knight was loyal to the Crown, Firebolt was Phantom’s Knight and he was loyal first and foremost to Phantom. And with his position as Phantom’s Knight, he was the Commander and Chief of all militant groups acting in loyalty to the King, or in this case Prince. “evaluate the best candidates for an undercover mission, and I’ll select from your list.” If Bolt approved of them, Danny would trust in their abilities.

“Understood, My Liege.” He bowed again.

Danny stood before his court, the weight of his decision settling onto his shoulders. He turned to Clockwork, a mentor, like Pandora, and close advisor. “You act with honor and the Realms are grateful to have you as their sovereign.” He smiled, and bowed. His simple, just bending at the waist and a handset on his left shoulder, a sign of respect to his ruler, but not one of a warrior.

Danny let out a breath. His decisions hadn’t destroyed too many realities. Yet, at least. “Was that all?” Danny asked again.

When no one spoke up for an acceptable amount of time, Noctume took his sign, “Thank you for welcoming us despite the ill planning. It was an honor to be in your Court as it is an honor to serve you.” They bowed in synchrony, and the room of Clockwork’s Tower faded away into a blissful darkness. A gift from Noctume, no doubt. And Danny relished in what may be his few remaining semblances of peace.

The next time Danny opened his eyes, it was to an unfamiliar white ceiling, mechanical beeping, and arguing in the background. And holy sh*t, his body hurt.

-Elsewhere-

The room was dark, its decorations majestic. The king’s of old would have looked upon in jealousy at the carpets older than countries, and walls that were lined with fabrics the common people had never even dreamt of. The man that sat alone in the magnificent room had many heirs come and go, but none were able to win his favor or blessing to sit upon his seat. He was their unattainable aspiration, a god among their painful mortality.

The room, large and magnificent, was lit only by a large screen, given the undivided attention of the man. His brilliant green eyes watched the newest addition of his bloodline. He showed promise. But promise, alone, was not enough to best him. He moved with agility, and elegance. He showed pride in his abilities. Traits good in practice, yes, but would they withstand the test of a true battle?

The servant’s door open was the only disturbance apart from the sounds from the screen. The broadcast showed an unexpected turn of events. The man held up a singular finger, and the servant knew to not disturb him until he deemed it acceptable. They revered him, and when they did not, they feared him. The man watched as the boy moved quickly and effectively. But eventually, the assailant had him within their grip. But before the man could completely disregard the boy on the screen as yet another failure of his lineage, he fought back. His moves, while unfitting of his position as an heir for his throne, had managed him success over one his captors, but there was a second who was not willing to let him go. But the boy emerged victorious, but not without repercussions.

The boy, while being the first born, had not received even a fraction of the teaching and training his brother, the younger, had. If he were to show signs of talent that Damian had been so keen to display, perhaps he would not be a waste of flesh. The man put his finger down. “The Lady Talia has returned.” The servant informed him.

A smile splintered across the man’s face, the white peppering his beard and hair reflected the light off the broadcasting of Gotham’s most recent junior league hockey match that ended on an unexpected note. “Tell my daughter, she is to dine with me tonight. Prepare all her favorite meals.”

The meal could not come fast enough, in the man’s opinion. And he awaited every moment until his daughter was to be sat in front of him eagerly. She had been one his favorite heirs, as of yet. Her abilities were astounding, and her marks were never off, her assignments completed with a beautiful delicacy. But trumphing all those feats, she had given him two more potential heirs. The man had always favored his daughter more than his sons for that very ability.

The doors of the dining hall were opened, and Talia’s presence was announced to the room of one. “My Liege, you’ve summoned me.” She bowed, approaching him, and placing a kiss on the back of his hand, then placing it to her forehead.

“I simply wish to have a meal with my daughter since I have been deprived of her presence for so long.” The man smiled.

Talia acted easily, the unending calculations hidden behind her eyes, as she stood. “It would be an honor to dine with you, Father.” The servant pulled out her chair as she sat, “I have missed your company as well,” Talia had always been a wonderful diplomat, “My most recent assignment required that I have no contact with the present world for quite some time.”

“Yes, I recall, three months exactly.” The man took a bite of his still bloody meat, and chewed slowly. Relishing in the information his daughter had seemingly remained unaware of.

“Those three months have only allowed my adoration of you to grow, Father.” Talia smiled, chewing her own food. No doubt suspicious of him, despite the calm she poised.

“Yes, I suppose three months are nothing with the intrinsic relationship between a father and his most beloved daughter.” Talia said nothing, knowing he had yet to finish speaking. She would not dare interrupt him, “Do you feel the same after the elongated separation between you and your son?”

Talia could not hide the shifting of her grip on the fork she held, setting it down. Talia had possessed no weakness until 17 years ago when she had stumbled into the embrace of the man she referred to as her Beloved. She’d become so illusioned with his lies that she had abandoned the League she was set to inherit had she proved her merit, and ran off to carry the man’s child. When her firstborn had not lived to see even his first birthday, she had returned to the League in humility and asked to be allowed to prove herself to him again. Mortals were often weak, and knowing as such, the man had conceded with mercy.

Her only weakness now was her second born. The boy that was known by millions by the name Damian Wayne. But she’d always been tarnished by her most devastating loss. The boy’s whose image she shaped Damian with, the boy Damian was never allowed to become. A boy so weak and frail, he had been a smear on the Al-Ghul title. But it seemed they had been mistaken.

“My adoration to my son will know no bounds, regardless of the regularity of our interactions.” Talia said, defiance in her tone.

There was a string of silence, and the man waited until Talia took up her utensils to eat before he spoke. “I’ve been following your son’s activities for the last two months. He’s shown his adequacy of his title of Al-Ghul, even if he does not wear it.”

“Damian has always been regarded as a prodigy among his peers. There is no reason he would not continue to show forth the same abilities as he ages and lives under his father’s guidance.” Talia responded, much more controlling of her actions now. Her eyes met the man’s, matching in its hue and distinction, daring the man to move disfavorably against her son.

“I was not referring to Damian, my dear daughter,” The man put down his utensils, finished with his meal. He looked up at his daughter with a pleasant smile, “but rather your firstborn.” Talia stared at him, trying to decipher what his words could possibly mean, “Has your Beloved not informed you?” The servant, following the instructions the man had given beforehand, placed a singular paper next to Talia. A paper that held the picture of a boy that had long been thought dead, and had taken the world by its reins in just the two months he’d been rebirthed as his father’s son. “I’m sure you recognize him. They say a mother can always tell.” It was time that he was rebirthed as his mother’s.

Talia stayed silent, drinking up the picture. “What is his name?” She asked with a softness that only echoed the man’s failure.

“Daniel.” Knowing his daughter would bring him to his rightful home, the man left the ding hall without another word.