[you see yesterday I got this idea in my head for a song about being a Church Grim and that somehow led to this fic idea having me in a chokehold]
Thereās only so long you can be afraid before the mind finds a coping mechanism, a way to protect the mind. For Danny, it became sleep. When heās asleep, he doesnāt see the lid of his coffin inches from his face. When heās asleep, he can pretend heās somewhere else, something elseā¦
Heās not sure exactly when he first realized his new form was real and not a dream. Perhaps when he couldnāt leave the gates of the cemetery. Of course, he wasnāt entirely certain this wasnāt just some elaborate hoax his mind made up. But whatever it was, his massive paws and the way he melted away into shadows as he pleased felt like freedom.
Only select people could see him. Those who have died and been resuscitated, those who ha love defiled a grave, and those who are about to die.
It begged the questionā¦
What purpose does his existence serve?
The answer came in the form of the unresful. That is, the souls of the dead who cannot cross the veil to the infinite realms, but also lack the ability to manifest a full form. Mostly they haunt their graves, but sometimes other things try to take them, to eat, to keep, the reasons are endless. Danny may not have much power over the living like this but in the domain of shadows and spectral power he is able to protect and guard the cemetery and the souls residing within it.
With time (days? months? years?), Dannyās original predicament became more of a blurred memory. All that matters, all that he needs to be is The Black Dog. He settles into a routine of patrolling, checking, and fighting off interlopers and the occasional grave robber.
Danny doesnāt sleep, or maybe heās always been asleep, he doesnāt remember. He doesnāt need to rest when heās not anything close to alive and especially not when the souls of the dead never sleep.
This night is different somehow. A new moon, heās not sure why heās so aware of that when he canāt ever see it through the smoggy haze and light pollution of Gotham. But thereās something off. Something that sets him pacing the shadows of the cemetery like a vengeful wraith. He finally pinpoints it when a soul, more like pieces of one, tears through the veil into the cemetery. Itās like someone punched it back through. And the soul returns to its body.
Thatās not supposed to happen. Not like this.
He follows, tries to follow. He canāt touch the earth beneath his feet. He cannot impact it in a way that matters. His ears perk. He can hear the faint thumping from the coffin and his efforts to reach this soul intensify.
If only! If only he could reach through and pull them to safety! He has to protect! He canāt protect!
His howls of anger, of mourning pierce the Gotham night, rousing the dead, the dying, and the Other. There is not a one who dares disturb him this night. Not a one who wants to get between The Black Dog and whatever he is failing to protect; not this one.
In what is an eternity for Danny, hands make it through the soil of the grave. Danny waits. He can't hinder this soul's movements, but as soon as that head pulls free, he darts forward. His teeth don't pass through the clothing of this boy. This boy is one of his. Danny helps pull the boy the rest of the way from his grave. He hovers. He licks the boy's face free of dirt as memories of his own sweep over him. They wash Danny away into his mind.
He knows. He remembers...
His own body waits, trapped beneath the ground of his unmarked grave. Danny's form flickers as he remembers that he is more than just The Black Dog. As he remembers that he can't escape.
He can't escape. He's not dead. He's not dead!
The boy ignores him, doesn't seem to register his presence, although the boy doesn't seem to register much of anything. He stumbles to his feet. Danny hovers. Danny follows.
He's like me...
Just because he's still there, still in the ground, doesn't mean he will stop protecting.
He's like me!
But the boy stumbles out of the cemetery despite Danny's best attempts at herding him and Danny can't follow.
Danny cannot follow.
The night fills with his howls once more as he mourns the shell of a boy he cannot not protect.
@violetshade4 this won't let me go!!!! ļ½”ļ¾ļ½„ (>ļ¹<) ļ½„ļ¾ļ½”
Here's the list of those who wished to be tagged. I think I got everyone: @my-perfect-storybook-love @gunebugfic @thegatorsgoose @thewondersoflebanon @bobred18 @emergentpanda-blog
