thunder rumbles and groans all through-out gotham, and even on the outskirts now as you've found yourself-- you're only slightly surprised the weather remains so vicious in her wake. droplets fall angrily onto the long drive-way of the wayne manor; unrelenting against the property's impressive expanse. the house itself, however, has become routine for you; no longer are you taken aback by its size or intimidation, your relationship with tim, one of bruce's sons, becoming a steady element within your life.
your car-- a shit-box you purchased only out of desperation (gotham's transit was unreliable on the best of days)-- came to a halt about a yard and a half away from the manor's front door. rushing out of the warmth of your vehicle and up the front steps of his house, you were greeted by, and this was just your luck, the manor's youngest master.
"you're here to see drake." damien said flatly. his grip on the large oak doors looked steady, and his brows were furrowed. "aren't you aware of the time? it is simply insulting to show up at another person's abode at such an ungodly hour," he tipped his head backwards, making a show of examining the large grand-father clock that was in the entry-way. it read eleven forty-six p.m.
your eyes rolled automatically at damien's comments-- another thing that had also become a steady element within your life. "yes, damien," you answered, stepping past the entrance and peeling off your shoes, "i am acutely aware of the time; that's exactly why i'm here, actually."
one of the boy's eyebrows cocked upwards, and his arms crossed over his chest. the glitter of a watch that looked far more expensive than you'd ever want to know almost blinded you.
"your brother hasn't spoken to me all day-- only once, like an hour ago, to apologize and say he's busy with homework." taking off your coat, you began your decent down a long hall-way to an even longer set of stairs going upwards, towards your boyfriend's bedroom. "i'm going to rip that computer from his cold, dead hands if i have to." you mumbled. behind you-- it sounded much like damien was groaning about not being that imbecile's younger brother, along with him skittering away to whatever he had been doing prior to your arrival.
good riddance, you thought (lovingly), now taking two-steps at a time up the stairs. if no one will stop tim from over-working himself, i will.
that task, you soon found out, was easier said than done; tim was practically hunched over his desk, fingers working at an inhuman speed against the keys of his laptop. papers were spread-out all across the expensive wood of the table-top, and you heard the boy inhale sharply and drag a hand down his face.
"tim," you tried again, crossing your legs from where you had sat down on his bed, "please jus' take a break."
"i can't." he said simply, going back to typing.
the sigh that fell from your lips was almost laughable. almost, because there was nothing humorous in the fact that your boyfriend had not gotten up from his desk in at least four hours. "why not?" you questioned, patience wearing thin. "it's not good, y'know, to constantly be working this much--"
tim reached a palm out to grab the energy drink in front of him. taking a sip, he glanced backwards at you-- underneath his eyes, it was clear, they were thick with exhaustion. blue irises squinted at you momentarily, before something flickered across his expression. "i know, baby," tim agreed, lips still pressed to the metal of his drink can, "but i just have so much shit to do, taking a break isn't feasible right now--"
"over-working yourself to the point of passing out is not feasible! ever!" you exasperated, leaning backwards onto your palms. his mattress barely creaked at the newfound weight against it, and his sheets felt crisp and warm underneath your touch.
"i don't pass out all of the time," tim grumbled, turning back to his laptop screen.
you scoffed, darting your tongue out to wet your lips. "oh yeah? when was the last time you went to sleep voluntarily? and not because your body was running on empty?"
tim's own lips pressed into a thin line, and his silence was your answer.
exactly, you thought bitterly.
another round of thunder cracked above gotham, and you watched tim flinch ever so slightly at the noise.
"this isn't healthy, tim." you said suddenly-- to the boy, your sentence was far more jarring than the weather outside. he froze, fingers hovering above his lap-top keys. "you go days without properly sleeping, or getting any sort of rest-- you're constantly working on," you paused, eyes squinting at your boyfriend's papers and screen, "god knows what--! that's another thing, too. you drown yourself in work and- and all i want to do is help you, but i don't even know what you're doing!" you hands flew out in front of you, now gesturing to underneath his desk. his trash-can was practically overflowing with energy drink cans. "you refuse to ingest anything without caffeine in it, and you barely leave this house." you swallowed, emotion suddenly washing over you. "i don't remember the last time you and i went on a date, much less hung out without your lap-top third wheeling us." you laughed bitterly.
that got tim's attention. the sound of his desk chair turning to face you reverberated off of the walls of his bedroom. "don't say that," he fought weakly.
"why not?" you asked, voice wobbling. "it's true."
"i know but--"
"why won't you let me help you, tim? i'm right here, and you won't even tell me what you're doing. it's like--" your throat closed up. "it's like i'm just here so you can say you have a girlfriend. you don't-- you don't actually want to put in the effort to have one."
all tim could think to say was your name. it came off of his tongue all crooked, his voice breaking-- due to exhaustion or something else, you couldn't tell. "that's not true, baby,"
"well then act like it." you replied sharply. "take care of yourself-- shit, just let me take care of you, so you can act like you want this relationship to last."
rain pattered against the large windows of tim's bedroom rapidly; each one leaving a trail, just to have it replaced by another's.
"act like i matter enough for you to trust me." you whispered, eyes boring into tim's. he blinked silently, dark lashes resting heavily against his pale cheeks as he breathed in and out. underneath his sweatshirt, you could see the soft rise and fall of his chest. "why do i have to drive to your house at midnight for you to even talk to me, tim? that's not fair."
there was a long stretch of silence before either of you spoke again; you could tell, the moment you had said the words-- something in the air of the room had shifted heavily.
tim didn't turn around and start typing again. he didn't speak, didn't breathe. just sat, watching you, for what felt like an eternity-- before he reached behind him and shut his laptop closed. it was slow, the sound of the screen meeting the lower half of it a stark contrast to the weight of your words. despite the speed in which he did it, there was no apprehension in his action-- as if, in it, he had made a decision. one that was final.
it looks like tim is thinking; his posture, the way he leaned onto his elbows and the way his forehead had crinkled-- it'd be almost impossible not to see the cogs turning in his mind.
it almost makes you upset, because even in moments like this-- tim cannot shut his brain off, cannot stop thinking, cannot let himself go.
suddenly, he stands. in a few strides, he's crossed the room-- lowering himself onto the bed beside you, tim cautiously brings a palm to the side of your cheek. his hands are cool against your flushed skin-- the contrast in your bodies making your head spin, and a rush travel down your spine. "i never meant to make you feel that way," tim starts, swallowing, "nor was i trying to push you away."
icey blue irises look deep into your own, scanning you-- trying to pick your brain apart; as if your emotions are a puzzle he can solve. there's an earnestness to this search, though, and your heart clenches.
"i just... once i get sucked into my work, i just don't know how to stop,"
you exhale, and some of the heat from your chest dissipates. despite yourself, you turn into his touch, pressing your face deeper into his palm. it isn't an acceptance of his apology, but it is an allowance to be close. tim looks almost startled at the fact that you hadn't pulled away.
his shoulders drop. like the weight of something has finally begun to be lifted from his chest, like something has finally given out. tim shifts closer, hesitantly, causing your thighs to press against each other's. his eyes glance downwards at the contact as if he's expecting you to push back; you don't.
"i'm sorry," he whispers so quietly, you have to strain to hear it. it's soft, not defensive-- quiet, honest, and drained.
"you don't have to figure everything out all at once," you offer, voice just as low. you have to look upwards, ever so slightly, to maintain eye-contact with your boyfriend-- and your words brush against his bottom lip. "just let me help you figure out whatever is going on right now."
tim pauses, his thumb stuttering against your cheek. when he breathes, it's intense in a quiet sort of way; "i don't know," he starts, "how to stop unless somebody tells me to."
an eyebrow of yours quirks upwards at his comment.
"i don't know how to do things that i really mean, unless somebody tells me how to do it," tim swallows, and you watch his adam's apple bob up and down. "i really, really, want to make it up to you-- because i hate that i ever would have made you feel that way in the first place, like you're not the most important thing in my life-- so tell me how."
"tim," you murmur.
"tell me how to apologize to you properly." tim's vision flickers to your lips, his grip on your jaw tilting your own head up closer to his-- to make it easier for him to slot his plump lips against your own. "i'll be--" the hint of a blush suddenly creeps onto tim's face, heat blooming and crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, "i'll be so good for you."
"you'll be good for me?" you question. your mouths now are so close, what little gap remains burns with a fiery anticipation.
tim nods, licking his lips.
wordlessly, your mouths connect-- and tim is kissing you like he's never done so before. it was hesitant, in its first few moments; practiced, respectful. but as your arms looped around your boyfriend's neck and you tilted your head further to deepen the kiss, tim groaned-- opening his mouth against yours to allow your tongue to entangle itself with his.
you can feel tim's breathing growing ragged and uneven beside you-- his hands wandering, once aimlessly, with a certain passion and purpose now across your skin. fingers hooking into the edges of your shirt, pushing past and onto the expanse of your stomach-- the nape of your neck, pulling you into him as if you're the only thing that he craves.
you pull away from him, only in search of oxygen-- tim's face falls with a certain desperation, his lips swollen and slick with saliva as he chases your mouth. a chuckle leaves your throat, and you lean forward to press open-mouthed kisses to tim's throat. his breathing stutters as you sigh against his skin, "you're so eager, baby."
tim whines at your actions, moving forward and into your touch. "god," he shivers, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he feels your tongue lick a singular stripe up from the base of his neck to directly underneath his ear.
"i know." you whisper against the shell of his ear, pressing a kiss to his temple before pulling away. "lay back," you instruct, pointing to the end of tim's bed.
your boyfriend listens wordlessly, scooting himself right up against his bed-frame; tim's face is flushed, a pretty shade of pink washed over his cheeks, nose and ears. black locks fall into his eyes softly, messily tangled from where they linger near the nape of his neck.
tim is beautiful.
you crawl up onto the mattress, slowly and tantalizingly, before stopping right in between tim's legs. his mouth was parted as he watched you closely, dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. "good boy," you praise softly, pressing your hands underneath his shirt. sitting forward on your knees, you're able to lean down and press kisses to tim's stomach and abs.
tim gasps softly, fingers threading themselves into your hair and holding your head steady. "i was going to apologize to you,"
blinking up at him, yet still remaining connected to his skin via your lips, you hum in question of his statement.
tim swallows as you hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants.
"well, uh, y'know," he states quietly, blushing furiously as his pants begin to fall past his waist.
you tap underneath his thighs to get him to tilt his hips forward, allowing you to take his pants off completely. "no, baby, i don't."
tim whines.
"say what you mean with your chest, or you're not getting anything."
"y-you don't have to do this," he stutters out, "i want to be the one to make you feel good, i don't deserve you doin' anything to me,"
tim's already hard as your eyes flicker down towards his crotch. beneath his boxers, the outline of his erection teases you-- and a low heart-beat within your cunt spurs to life.
"i think," you inhaled, pressing kisses to his lower stomach as you shrugged his boxers down, freeing his cock, "you're going to let me do whatever i want to you; that's how i want you to apologize."
you barely even give tim a chance to respond before you stick your tongue out and slap his dick against it-- the obscene sound, plap, plap, plap, echoing throughout tim's bedroom.
the boy gasped, hips jerking towards you abruptly. your name fell, broken, from his lips.
"don't you think that's what i deserve? getting to touch n' suck and make love to my boyfriend after him not paying any attention to me all week?"
automatically, tim finds himself nodding. "y-yeah," he replies breathlessly, watching you pop the tip of his cock into your mouth easily.
you suck on it for a few seconds, salty drops of pre-cum invading your senses already, before you take the rest of him-- inch by inch-- into your mouth.
tim shudders, jaw going slack as your mouth wraps around his cock. his moans, despite just starting, are already obscene.
tracing a vein with your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. tim gasps beneath you, moaning and whimpering, and you hollow out your cheeks in response.
"ooh, baby," he groans, legs thrashing as your head bobs up and down his length with a practiced precision. "you-- haah-- you're so good at this,"
you hum around tim's cock-- and he practically sobs at the sensation. the vibrations cause his whole body to tingle, his fingertips and spine numb with ecstasy. another set of moans rip themself from his throat, and you peel off of tim's cock almost immediately.
"shh!" you hush, fingertips digging into your boyfriend's hips. "i know for a fact alfred n' damien are home! you need to keep it down," you warn, before dipping down and tracing a flushed vein with your tongue from his balls to his tip.
tim sobs, back arching off of the bed. "i- i can't," he whines, his forehead glistening with sweat as he watches you-- feels you, entirely-- take his dick back into your mouth. "i haven't seen you in so long, i- i forgot how good you are,"
as tim continues to talk, you let his tip hit the back of your throat; your eyes water, tears spilling involuntarily onto your cheeks and down your face as your nose gets pressed against his lower stomach. tim's whole body shivers as you have him all the way into your mouth.
"i-- oh god-- m'sensitive!" tim cries, pressing one of his hands over his mouth to muffle his moans. hips rocking steadily to meet the way your head bobs up and down on his cock, the air has practically been stolen from tim's lungs.
when you take yourself off of tim's dick-- the tip flushed angrily, and leaking a pretty, pearlescent substance-- a string of saliva keeps you bound to the boy's appendage. "you're sensitive, huh?" you ask, mockingly, wrapping a hand around him to pump. the sound is nothing short of pornographic; your boyfriend's alluring blue irises fogging over with tears as your pace against his cock is absurdly fast-- far too fast for the boy to handle.
he yelps, head tilting backwards and hitting his bed-frame; a shiny layer of sweat coats his neck and face, accompanied by the blush against tim's pale skin. "yes!" he sobs, thrusting into your touch.
at his exclamation, you grin-- hand only pumping him harder, deeper, faster, as pleasure invades every sense tim has.
"i'm cumming," tim wails suddenly. his moans grow incoherent, head thrashing against the bed-frame and hips tilting and stuttering in tandem with your palm along his cock. his legs twitch, and your free hand goes straight to your boyfriend's neck.
it isn't painful-- but as you give a good squeeze to his throat, tim gasps, eyes rolling into the back of his skull. "that's right," you coo, panties practically drenched as you watch your boyfriend's orgasm wash over his entire body, "cum all over my hand like a good boy,"
your praises go straight to tim's dick, and his balls tense-- hot ropes of cum spurting all over your hand and his stomach. his jaw goes slack again, his mouth falling open into an 'o' shape as his cock twitches and throbs within your grasp. your touch remains unrelenting, the pace against his skin continuous, practiced, and evil, as tim continues to thrash underneath you.
"it's too much," tim manages, chest panting and fat tears rolling down his cheeks.
much to his dismay, his newfound tears only spur you on further. when you stop, tim thinks he'll be able to catch his breath-- until you sit up onto your knees and yank your jeans and panties off in one swift and urgent movement.
"the last i remembered," you began, straddling your boyfriend's hips and sitting flush against his lower stomach, "you're being my good boy, and apologizing n' letting me do whatever i want to you, right?"
tim nods, dick involuntarily twitching as he feels your slick meet his lower half. when you begin to grind subconciously, tim groans, his sturdy hands flying to your waist.
"exactly," you hum, the feeling of his rigid abs underneath your cunt only making you throb with anticipation. the sensation of it-- riding him-- causes short and yearning whimpers to leave your throat, "so you'll let me use your body i want to."
"okay," tim blubbers, hands gripping your waist as if his life depends on it. "please," he whines, "please just sit on my cock."
moans fall prettily from your lips as you continue to ride his abs, your clit being stimulated by every inch of his lower abdomen. "i know you can beg better than that."
the boy's cheeks flush deeper, and his mouth parts in desperation. "please, baby, please," tim groans, "i- i'm sorry i was a bad boy, sorry i didn't talk t'my pretty girl all week,"
"w-what else are you sorry for?" you question, hips stuttering as your cunt weeps against his belly.
"m'sorry i don't take care of myself, i will, please-- i'll be such a good boy, i'll take good care of myself for you,"
you sigh at his words, an easy grin spreading across your face-- in reward, you hover yourself above tim's groin, aligning his flushed and fat tip with your entrance. you give his dick a few last pumps, causing tim's hips to jerk at the stimulation, before you sink down on his member.
"ohh, fuck baby boy," you moan, hissing as he fills you up good, the stretch of his cock within your pussy divine, "that's right," you praise, "you'll take such good care of yourself for mommy, won't you?"
tim sobs as he bottoms out within your sopping cunt-- every fold and crevice of your wet pussy practically strangling his dick. "yes, yesyesyes, i will mommy."
a few moments pass as you adjust to his size, before you pull yourself up on tim's cock to slam yourself back down on him-- "good boy," you groan, hips tilting and grinding upon his cock steadily now.
tim cries, face contorting in pleasure as you ride him into the mattress. his mouth has fallen open, and drool carelessly seeps down his chin; clearly, he's far too fucked out already to care. "fuck, mommy, i--"
tim's moans are cut short as you reach behind you on the bed to grab your panties-- balling them up in your hands as you grind lazily along his cock, abruptly shoving them into his mouth. "i told you," you warn, gasping as tim's tip abuses your g-spot at your grinding, "you need to be quiet."
black locks cling to his forehead as tim nods, tears spilling onto his flushed cheeks; your panties, a deep shade of burgundy, contrast obscenely to the shade of tim's skin.
for the second time that night-- the thought floats through your mind: tim is so fucking pretty.
raising yourself up again, you start riding your boyfriend-- again and again and again, tim's cock pumps in and out of you. your underwear, whilst it compliments your boyfriend in the sluttiest of ways, does little to stop the boy's noises from seeping out. he moans loudly, each groan and whimper and sob echoing lewdly within the confinements of your boyfriend's room.
it doesn't take long for tim's second orgasm to approach-- a few minutes later, your riding becoming methodical and pleasure-inducing, tim's moans grow in decibels. blue irises widen, filling with a fresh set of tears, and his hands go from your waist to your thighs-- squeezing the plush fat of them in warning.
"it's alright," you soothe, huffing ever so slightly, "you gonna cum, pretty boy?"
tim nods erratically, his hips thrusting upwards to meet your own; at the action, the tip of his cock practically bruises your cervix.
"cum then," you instruct simply, letting your head loll to the side as his dick pulses inside of you at the command. his seed spills into your pussy, and you squelch and clench around his cock in response. unrelenting, however, your hips remain; up and down and up again, to the point of tim's legs convulsing beneath you.
your boyfriend sobs-- one of his hands, without your permission, reaching upwards to tear the panties from his mouth. he tosses them to the side and swallows, before he yelps. "it's too much--! i jus' came, i can't keep going, please mommy, i--"
"too bad," you hush, riding his cock with such vigor now-- he involuntarily throbs inside of you again. "i wanna cum all over my cock-- you're going to let me do that, right?"
"but i can't," tim tries.
your movements, much to tim's surprise, cease. you're breathing is labored, and despite the fact that he's bottomed out within you-- you're unmoving. "you can't?" you whisper.
a shiver shoots up tim's spine, the hairs on the back of his neck raising in both arousal and expectation. "well--" he fumbles.
"that's okay," you coo suddenly, mock sweetness dripping from your voice. you pull off of tim's cock, cunt aching with the desire to be filled again. tim's cum oozes out of your crudely, and you shift you entire body to hover over tim's upper chest. "if i can't ride your dick," you say breathlessly, dragging a fingertip against tim's bottom lip, "i'm just going to ride your face."
tim whines, nodding eagerly. "please, mommy," his voice is hoarse from all of its usage-- hands impatiently grasping your hips in an attempt to drag you down onto his face. "need your pussy on my face so bad-- please, i'll eat it so good,"
without a second more of hesitation, you take a seat riiight down on tim's mouth-- his moans at the contact muffled by your dripping folds. you gasp, back arching at the sensation of his tongue licking slowly along your slit. "i- i know you will, baby,"
tim groans at your taste, lips latching onto your clit and sucking harshly. more of his cum seeps out of you, dribbling onto his chin and into his throat. the taste of both of your arousals causes the boys hips to tilt and buck into the air, one of his hands leaving your hips to jerk himself off as his mouth continues to make love to your cunt. he continues to mumble incoherently against your pretty pussy, palms finding the flesh of your ass and kneading it greedily. holy shit, thank you, fuck mommy-- all muttered incomprehensibly against your pussy.
you're riding his face, hips bucking and grinding, with intensity now-- the way his tongue curls on the inside of you, against your walls, along your clit-- making you see stars. rocking forward further onto his face-- onto the bridge of his nose-- you moan whorishly. "t-tell me you'll take care of yourself,"
"i- i will, baby, i swear--" tim groans, mouth now freed momentarily as you grind yourself along tim's nose, "fuck, jus' like that, mommy, please fuck yourself on my face,"
his comments only spur you along further, a familiar knot beginning to form quickly within your core. your fingertips and toes tingle, and without warning, you sink back down onto tim's mouth.
tim's hand hasn't let up against his cock-- leaking and oozing embarrassingly with pre-cum, tim moans into your cunt as he latches himself onto your clit again. his voice is muddled and uneven as he speaks into your pussy-- the vibrations only causing that same bubble in your core to expand rapidly.
"yes, c'mon baby, jus' like that," you whine, grinding down harshly onto tim's face as your orgasm approaches. "you're gonna make me cum," you warn, head tilting backwards as ecstasy floods your system.
tim's head nods back and forth-- and the slick sound of him eating you out and his hand pumping his aching cock fills the room obscenely. "please," you're able to make out from beneath you, "please cum on my face-- please, please give it to me, i've been such a good boy,"
any energy you would've had to tease tim and contradict him flies from your chest as your orgasm rocks you-- cunt spasming and clenching around tim's tongue with such intensity your vision blurs. "oh, fuck, tim--!" you gasp, hand reaching down into tim's gorgeous black hair and tugging hard.
tim inhales sharply as you pull on his hair and it isn't long before you feel hot spurts of tim's cum splash onto your back-- his moans and whimpers into your cunt absolutely entrancing. despite his orgasm knocking the wind out of his lungs, tim still helps you ride out your high; his tongue continues to lazily lap at your pussy, milking every drop of cum (both yours and his) from your cunt possible. when your body begins to quiver from overstimulation, you pull off of his face and collapse next to him.
the silence that encapsulates the room, save for both of your labored breathing, is charged. it isn't until tim drags a hand down his face, licking his lips to gather what little slick and cum of yours resides there, that either of you speak.
"i really am sorry," tim says earnestly.
you tilt your head to the side to meet your boyfriend's gaze-- blue eyes clouded with little lust and a lot of guilt.
"i know, tim," you speak softly, reaching a hand forward to carress the boy's cheek. "i jus' care about you a lot. it hurts me to see you let go of yourself like that, when you get wrapped up in all your work,"
tim swallows, his palm coming to rest on top of yours. contrary to before, his hand is warm against your own. "i'm going to try n' be better for you, baby," he whispers softly. "'cause you and i both deserve it."
you nod, and lean forward to press a chaste kiss to tim's forehead. "good," thunder crashes loudly from above the manor-- but somehow, it sounds distant in the safety of your boyfriend's presence. "'cause don't think i'll fuck you this good every time you're on the brink of passing out again."
loren's thots: tim drake i need u so bad.. also my kinktober is SO backed up rn it feels shameful to even apologize but i really do mean it im sooo sorry yall i love yall sm im sorry im behind its js midterms szn rn so. ugh. but my inbox is open feel free to drop them drawls in them yall (aka THIRST pls dont acc drop them...........pls everyone keep ur panties ONNN)
Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!
"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."
Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.
"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"
But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.
"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"
An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)
"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"
"...Losers bet...."
Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.
"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."
He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.
Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)
"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"
Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.
Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.
"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."
"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."
"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."
"Talia."
Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.
So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.
It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...
Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.
After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.
And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.
He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...
The two sides were glaring at each other. Or at least, that's what Danny assumed. It was hard to tell when people's faces where half covered. Neither side moved watching the other.
"Danyal. Come here," his mother ordered.
Nah. He loved her, just as she loved him. She wasn't exactly the sanest though. Neither was his dad, since he was a surprisingly popular out and proud furry. Danny was waiting. As soon as the two sides went after each other, he was going to make a run for it. His mom stepped forward, and the batclan leapt forward.
Danny dodged and weaved as the two sides clashed, trying to prevent the other from getting to him. Once he was pretty sure they were all distracted, he jumped down onto a fire escape and made himself invisible, running away. He couldn't hold it for long, but it should hold long enough for him to lose his tails for a bit.
***
Danny was pretty sure he wasn't followed. He'd managed to make his way to the observatory. It was easy to sneak inside. He'd decided to use the techniques his mom had shown him. Danny was still tired from using his powers earlier. He paused at the gift shop, looking longingly at some of the posters, toys, and clothes. He could live without it, but it would be nice to have one of those.
Danny shook his head.
He didn't want to steal.
Sighing, Danny moved on. He wanted to check out the movie room. It would be a nice place to sleep for the night, and he could fall asleep listening to the stars. Following the signs, he made it to the theater room. It was easy to find the console. From there, he turned on a video about the Hubble telescope and the James Webb telescope. Those would be fun.
Danny started them up, then meandered down to the rows of chairs. He laid down in the first row, spreading himself out across two of the seats. They were cushioned nicely. He'd been taught how to fall asleep when in uncomfortable situations. Danny drifted off hearing the narrator talk about the galaxies.
***
He woke up hearing two people talking, asking who had been the last to lock up for the night, how could they have left the projector running. Danny scrambled to get up and hide. It was child's play to sneak back out. His stomach grumbled. He'd had to steal food this past year in order to say alive. He didn't like it, but it was necessary. Danny made his way to a fancy looking grocery store that wasn't that far away.
His mouth watered seeing the fruits and vegetables. He'd hated them in his last life, but he appreciated them so much more in this one, where he rarely got enough to eat. Danny went in, looking for an adult to hang around who he could pretend he was with. There. There was an elderly gentleman stocking up his cart, filling it full. Danny made his way to the man and hovered around him, but not too close.
Danny stole an apple and an orange, hiding them in his hoodie. He also snuck a chocolate bar. Life was tough. Some sugar would do him good. Not only that, but chocolate was full of magnesium. That was an important micronutrient. He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard the elderly man say to the cashier.
"Add an apple, and orange, and a kit kat bar. I'm afraid my grandson has squirreled them away. He refused breakfast, so of course he is hungry now." Danny's head snapped up, assessing the man.
He had white hair and was balding at the top. He looked stern, but there was a kindness to him. Afterall, why else would he have paid for Danny's stuff? He followed the man out of the store.
"Thanks. You didn't have to do that," Danny admitted, scuffing the ground with his toe, ashamed yet grateful.
"No. There is a a small bakery and coffee shop down the street. If you help me put the items in my car, I'm more than happy to get you breakfast," the man explained. Danny nodded. It was a good trade, not only that, but it was easy to help the man. He told Danny his name was Alfred Pennyworth. Danny just said his name was Danny.
At the cafe, Mr. Pennyworth got some tea and scones while Danny got hot chocolate and an egg quiche with vegetables. It was really yummy. Danny tried to savor the drink. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had something so yummy. Definitely not since waking up in this body.
"Some of my grandsons will be here shortly. They were in the area. I do hope you won't mind them joining," Mr. Pennyworth told him calmly.
"Okay," Danny mumbled. Maybe he should try to leave before that... he was kinda gross and stinky.
He didn't really have a chance to leave though, as it felt like just seconds later, three men entered the store. The oldest, silver just starting to enter his hair, sat down next to Danny. He shifted uncomfortably. It was going to be harder to leave now. He didn't want to act suspicious and attract attention though.
"Bruce! What a surprise. I'd thought it was just going to be Tim and Damian."
"I was the one who drove them out here! Tim wanted to check out the observatory," Bruce said joyfully before turning to look at Danny. It kinda unnerved him. It reminded him of his mother's gaze, picking him apart, looking for Danny's flaws. He hated it. He needed to get out of here!
"Hello there! I'm Bruce Wayne! Nice to meet you! Where did Alfred pick you up at?" Was this something Mr. Pennyworth did often? Danny thankfully didn't have to answer as the boys sat down. One was older, probably sixteen or seventeen while the other looked to be twelve.
"Here's yours," the elder one said sliding a cup to Bruce. He then sat next to Alfred, the twelve year old sitting at the end of the table.
"Thank you Tim." He was turning to ask Danny something again, something Danny didn't want. So he decided to jump in.
"Tim! You wanted to go to the observatory. What did you want to see there?" Tim blinked.
"Uh, they updated the documentary to include new information since the James Webb telescope was launched a little while ago."
Perfect.
Danny has spent all night listening to that on repeat. He could rant about that telescope till he bored them and made them leave him alone! He just needed to be as annoying and know-it-all as possible. Time to channel Jazz.
"Did you know that the James Webb was built to extend the capabilities of the Hubble telescope? It has a whole bunch of infrared equipment, that way it can be an orbiting infrared telescope. It's made with gold coated beryllium that way..."
Why werenât they getting bored? Why were they all listening as if this was the most interesting thing theyâve ever heard? Danny was running out of information to info dump on them about the telescopes. He had plenty of more facts about space and galaxies and all that good stuff, but the satellites and telescopes? Yeah, he was out. Tim had been surprisingly knowledgeable and had been a good listener. Heâd mentioned some a University in Arizona that was known for their optics program and made some of the best and largest lenses in the world. Also how they had a great astronomy and astrophysics program due to the fact that the sky was so often clear there and it was relatively easy to find an open patch of land in the desert that did not suffer from light pollution and view the heavens from there. Danny hadnât known any of that, happily drinking his hot chocolate while Tim explained. He was brought out of his thoughts when Bruce interrupted.Â
âWow. You know a lot about the stars. Would you like to come with us to the observatory?â Bruce was smiling, but it was softer this time and didnât feel as fake. It still felt weird. Why was this family accepting him? It was really suspicious.Â
âOh no, I couldnât. Itâs your family that you were going to do with Tim and Damian,â Danny protested.Â
He wanted to go. He did. But he shouldnât. Also, this was Gotham? Heâd heard so much about this city, who in the world were these people that they were like: ah, letâs take that street urchin in his ratty and stinky clothes to an observatory! Were they trying to kidnap him? Probably. Ah well, he could kick their asses when they revealed their hand and then leave. Danny was still trying to lay low and hide from his mother and his father, the Batman. Mother might suspect him of going to an observatory. She did know him, and knew that he liked stars. Probably? Was he giving her too much credit? She had him on purpose because her other son hadnât turned out the way she wanted. Mother hasnât been thrilled to discover his interest in space. No, sheâd just wanted the perfect soldier, the perfect heir.Â
Sheâd lost that when sheâd killed her son and revived him in the Lazarus Pit.Â
Older Dannyâs memories had meshed with his younger, reincarnated selves ones, but older Danny had so many more memories and a lot more life experience. Little Danny? Not so much. The love he had for his mother had stayed though.Â
âOh, I insist,â Bruce said, putting his hand gently on Dannyâs shoulder.Â
Danny bit his lip. He glanced around at the others. Damian hadnât said a word, just watching Danny. He had the same gaze as his father, Bruce, had initially. As if he was trying to look into Dannyâs soul. Alfred looked serene and calm as ever. Danny felt safer if both Tim and Alfred would come with.Â
âWill you be coming too, Mr. Pennyworth?â Danny asked, trying to give his best innocent and cute look at the older gentleman. He also subtly pushed off Bruceâs hand, not liking it on him.
âIâm afraid I must get the groceries home. They would not survive a trip to the observatory,â Mr. Pennyworth said. Danny frowned. That sucked.Â
âOh. Well, I wouldnât want to imposeâŠâ yes, nice and easy, get away from this nice but really weird family.Â
âYou wouldnât be imposing! Donât worry about cost either! I have plenty of money,â Bruce chuckled.Â
âYuck,â Danny blurted, then blushed. Okay, so he kinda hated rich people. He blamed Vlad. Tim let out a surprised laugh, although he tried to stop it as quickly as he could. Damian, however, bristled.
âHow dare you say that! Father is one of the most generous men on the planet and his charities help the people of this city and those all around the world!â Bruce put his hand on Damianâs shoulder.Â
âItâs alright, son. I donât think Danny knows who we are. Iâm Bruce Wayne, does that ring a bell?â It did, but Danny didnât want to tell him that.Â
âNo,â Danny told the man before finishing off his hot chocolate. It was a little cold at this point, but it was still good. Heâd finished the quiche during his discussion with Tim. Decisions though. He really, really wanted to explore the observatory while it was open and not at nightâŠÂ
âIâll go, but you have to answer one question first,â Danny told Bruce, looking up at him. He was going to have so much fun messing with this trillionaire.Â
âOf course!â Danny was going to make him regret that. They would either let him leave or still take him after this question. Probably let him leave.Â
âYouâre not a pedophile, are you?âÂ
Bruceâs eyes widened, and he looked stunned. Damian stood up and started yelling. Mr. Pennyworth looked perturbed. Tim looked like he wasnât sure if he was going to laugh or cry. What could he say? He was a bit of a chaos gremlin.Â
***
To Dannyâs utter amazement, the Waynes still wanted to take Danny to the observatory.Â
They had to have some sort of ulterior motive. No one would have taken Danny after he asked Bruce that so bluntly. Were they connected to the Bats? Or his Mother? Either way, Danny was just going to use them a bit, making them go with him to every single exhibit, check out all of the telescopes, and watch as many of the movies in the theater as possible. Tim though, Tim had been the one to surprise Danny by getting him a few items from the gift shop. A little model rocket, a poster of a few different galaxies, and even some astronaut food.Â
It was really nice of the teen.Â
Damian had been extremely bored and clearly did not want to be there. He kept trying to tell Danny what to do and how to act, which just made Danny want to do the exact opposite. It was honestly fun to make the other kid mad. When he did, he would hide behind Timâs leg and give the older teen the most innocent look he could manage. Bruce looked super tired from dealing with their squabbles.Â
If he couldnât handle it, he shouldnât have invited Danny along!Â
That led to the interesting conundrum. It was becoming dark, and the observatory was about to close. Bruce and his kids didnât seem to want Danny to leave. It was super suspicious. They were outside now, Danny holding his little bag of goodies. While he could be subtle when he wanted to be, now really wasnât the time for subtlety. Walking forward in front of the little family, Danny turned to face them. He was prepared to run if they made any weird moves.Â
âSo. Whoâs side are you on? My momâs? Or are you on the side of my dad, the furry?âÂ
âWhat makes you think we have anything to do with your parents? Whoever they are,â Bruce asked. Danny rolled his eyes.Â
âPlease. Any normal person would want to get away from me as soon as I asked if they were a pedophile. The fact that you didnât leave me alone right after that? Super suspicious. I may be five, but Iâm not dumb,â Danny told them, annoyed. Sometimes being so little was helpful, sometimes it really, really sucked!Â
The three people studied Danny. He fidgeted.Â
âWell? Are you going to answer my question?â Danny demanded.Â
âWeâre with⊠Batman,â Bruce reluctantly said.Â
âYeah, I thought so. None of you really seem like people my mom would associate with.â Apparently, that was funny, as Tim covered his mouth with a hand to muffle his laughter.Â
âWhy would you think that?â Damian questioned, crossing his arms and⊠pouting? Ancients, was the twelve year old kid really pouting? It was only because Danny had been taught how to read even the most subtle body language by his assassin mom that he could tell the other boy was upset.
âUh, youâre not all stabby and donât really seem super dangerous,â Danny explained. That seemed to get Tim even more, as he made a strangled sound and pulled out his phone.Â
âI need to tell Jason. Heâs going to love this so much,â Tim managed to wheeze out. Danny was not waiting around till Jason showed up. He was getting out of here.Â
âAnyway, good to know that youâre with the caped furry. I hope to NEVER see you again,â he told them cheerily.Â
âWAIT!â Damian yelled, grabbing Dannyâs hand. Danny frowned at the surprisingly strong grip. âDonât you want to meet your older brother?âÂ
âUh, no,â Danny told the other boy. Damianâs face went stony at the answer. âIâve been compared to my older brother my entire life. Mother said that once I beat my teacher, I could learn his name and once I beat her I could learn my fatherâs name. I donât want to know, though. Mother always said I was slower than him, I didnât learn as quickly as him. I wanted to yell at her so many times that I wasnât him! Iâm Danyal. Iâm Danny. I donât want to be my brother. I want to be nothing like him! Mother boasted how heâd completed his first kill at three. Iâve never killed anyone. I love my mom, but sheâs not exactly sane and really shouldnât be raising a kid.âÂ
âSo I ran away, and thereâs no way Iâm going to get involved with Batman, because if Mother picked him to be my father, then heâs probably not really sane either. I mean, he runs around at night in his fursona!â Danny argued. He tugged at his arm. âNow let me go!â
Damian wasnât letting go though. In fact, his grip just got tighter. Danny tried a few techniques heâd learned from his Mother, but none of them worked. Damian had a smug expression on his face as Danny struggled to get away. Bruce and Tim got closer, caging him in.Â
Well, screw that!Â
âYeah, no, bye!â Danny told them, turning intangible to Damianâs hand slid off him, his eyes ridiculously wide in shock.Â
Not bothering to see the otherâs reactions, Danny turned and ran, gripping his bag of goodies tightly. He heard them chasing after him. His legs were short, but all he needed to do was get to the shadows, then he could turn invisible and get away. It didnât matter if they saw he had powers at this point. He just needed to get away.Â
***
The bad thing about spending the whole day in the observatory was that Danny hadnât picked a nice, safe spot to sleep for the night. Once he was sure he was far enough away from the Waynes, heâd dropped his invisibility then wandered. Heâd received so many looks from others. Whatever. Danny could take care of himself. He could tell it was going to rain. He needed to find a place to get some shelter and keep warm for the night.Â
Danny found a nice little space to hide and keep warm, under the roof of a large building. The overhang was large enough that it kept him dry. The thick stone slabs on the⊠bank. It was a bank. The outside of the bank was warm. Well, warmer than elsewhere. From up here, Danny could watch the street and everything that was going on. The bag rustling, he pulled out the model rocket, admiring it. It was really, really nice of Tim to buy this for him. It was a model of the Javelin, the type of rocket that was a spaceship and a jet. It was used exclusively by the Justice League.Â
This type of technology hadnât existed in his old world. He really wanted to fly in one. Or look at the engine of it. Saw how it worked. The specs on it. Danny wanted to know about the aerodynamics of the plane, the material used to make it both sturdy and heatproof for reentry into the atmosphere. He couldnât always let his adult side take over, or dominate him. So Danny let his younger side out, making the Javelin fly around above him, making soft zooming noises. He thought about if he went with his dad, with Batman, maybe he could get to fly in one.Â
Danny shook his head, dispelling that thought.Â
It was a nice one, but he didnât want anything to do with the Bat themed vigilante or the bird themed ones that seemed to flock around him. Danny just wanted to be a normal kid. Well, as normal as he could be. It wasnât worth sacrificing his normalcy or his freedom to fly in a Javelin, as cool as it would be. Danny put the model on his chest and sighed. He tensed as he heard two people land on the ground by the entrance to the bank. It was Nightwing and Red Hood. Nightwing was hiding something behind his back, a smile on his face.
âThat sure was a big sigh! Are you doing alright up there, Danny?â Nightwing asked kindly, giving him a small wave.Â
Oh great.Â
âIâm fine. Go away,â Danny ordered.Â
âOkay. If you come down though, Iâll give you this!â Nightwing brought out what looked like a Build a Bear in an astronaut costume. It was tempting, but Danny wasnât falling for it.Â
âPass,â Danny told him. Red Hood snickered. Danny eyed him.Â
âAre you going to try and convince me to come down too?â He asked the anti-hero.Â
âNah,â came the robotic voice. A voice changer. âIâm just here to watch Goldie fail.âÂ
âLittle wing!â Nightwing complained. Wait a minute.Â
âLittle wing? Red Hood is bigger and taller than you. How is he little?â Danny asked.Â
âWell, heâs younger than me,â Nightwing explained, as if it explained anything!Â
âSo⊠Do you call people older than you Big wing?â Danny questioned. The logic wasnât really logicing for him. Red Hood started chuckling. It sounded kinda weird with the voice modulator.Â
âYouâre a riot kid. Iâm going to enjoy this.âÂ
Red Hood might be enjoying this, but Danny was not. He glared down at the two men. Nightwing just cooed at him. What was wrong with the man? Why was he all excited about a moody toddler? Red Hood was staying true to his word leaning against one of the bollards in front of the bank. Weirdly, a couple of them were damaged. Were people so bad at driving in Gotham that they kept running into them? Or were there seriously that many attacks from proclaimed villains.Â
Ancients, this place got weirder and weirder the more he learned about it.Â
This place wasnât going to work for the night. He got the feeling that Nightwing was like an overactive golden retriever puppy. Sorry Nightwing, Danny preferred Rottweilers and Doberman. They reminded him of Cujo. He really wanted to sleep. Itâd been such a good day at the observatory messing with Damian and hanging out with Tim. Heâd liked Mr. Pennyworth too.Â
Too bad they were all associated with his dad.Â
If only his mom had told him the names of his dad and older brother. All he knew was that they were Batman and Robin. Sighing to himself, Danny put his toy Javelin back in the bag, holding tight to it. He could climb out from under the overhang and then get on the roof, but with their grapples, theyâd get up there before him and would be waiting for him. Danny would be captured, unless he used his intangibility again. That wouldnât be good. His legs were hurting and he was tired, which meant he wouldnât be able to told onto any of his powers for long.Â
âDanny? You okay up there babbiest bat?â Nightwing asked. Red Hood snorted.Â
âBabbiest bat? Really?âÂ
âBaby Bat is already taken by Robin! Red Robin is Baby Bird and youâre Little Wing. Iâm running out of nicknames!â Nightwing defended himself, pouting but focusing on Red Hood.Â
Now.Â
Now was the time for him to briefly go invisible and phase on to the roof. Hopefully by only using his powers for thirty seconds or less, he could make his escape. Up he went, then running across the roof, holding on to his invisibility for as long as possible. Theyâd somehow seen him, probably on the cameras. Danny needed to be undetected getting into his next sleeping spot, otherwise theyâd find him. He really, really needed to sleep in order to regain his strength and his powers. He was running on empty, and they were bound to give out on him soon.Â
This time, even though it meant the vigilantes themselves might spot him easier, as the rooftops kinda made it easy to spot him. It kept him out of the line of sight from the cameras that were around the city. Heâd heard of the Oracle person, that was probably how Nightwing and Red Hood had found him. As long as he was invisible, they couldnât see where he was going, and he needed to get as far away as possible.Â
Danny stopped on an apartment building that was only a few blocks from Wayne Tower. He crawled into the space between the air conditioner and heater units that were bolted in place. There, he let his invisibility drop. It was cramped, and if it rained, which was likely, he would get drenched. Danny had to try, had to try and sleep for a bit. Shivering, he curled into a ball and tried to sleep.Â
***
Danny only got to sleep for three hours before the heavens opened above him, the rain soaking him to the bone. His entire body trembled. He was out of power, extremely tired, and cold. The younger part of him wanted to cry. The older part of him knew he had to get up, to go somewhere warm and dry otherwise he would die from hypothermia. Struggling, Danny got up and exited his hiding spot.Â
He stilled when he saw who was on the roof.
Red Robin was sitting on the edge, looking out at the city. Hearing Danny, he glanced back at the small boy before returning his gaze to the city.Â
âIâm done with patrol for the night,â the vigilante commented.Â
Dannyâs mind was whirring. How long had Red Robin been there? Why hadnât he told anyone? How had he found Danny?Â
âIâm about to head home. It would be easy to hide a small kid in my cape as I went to my apartment. The apartment I live alone in. Might even make two mugs of hot chocolate. You know. Just in case.âÂ
Some of the fight drained from Danny, his stiff and tense shoulders dropping. That sounded really good. A dry and safe space to spend the night and hot chocolate. It sounded too good to be true! Yet he couldnât stay out here. Danny had half died once and died twice now. He didnât want to die a third time and deal with whatever nonsense was sent his way that time. Slowly, step by shaking step, he approached the unmoving vigilante. Swallowing his pride and taking a leap of faith, he tugged on Red Robinâs cape.Â
âCan you⊠take me with you to your apartment? I could⊠drink that extra hot chocolate,â Danny whispered. Red Robin looked at him and nodded.Â
âYeah. Yeah, I can do that.âÂ
It was nice, but still really weird when he was brought under Red Robinâs cape and held tight to the manâs (teenâs?) body. The trek across the city was quick. Danny was able to warm up a little. Red Robinâs apartment was high up and had a ton of security. Danny was ushered to the couch, and given some clothes. They were big for Danny, but they werenât Red Robin sized.Â
âThose are Robinâs,â Red Robin told him. Danny stiffened, looking at the items. âHe stays over every once in a while, or sometimes he changes here after school. Itâs not often, but just enough that Nightwing insisted that I keep some spares here. The bathroom is over there. Iâll be right in the kitchen, starting the hot coco.â
Danny sat there, watching dumbly as Red Robin took off some of his outfit, but left the domino on. The man clearly didnât care that Danny saw him in his underwear during this. Once Red Robin was in sweats and a ratty tee shirt, Danny made his way to the bathroom. He stared at the clothes. He didnât want to be like his older brother, but at the same time, part of him was fascinated by the clothing in front of him.Â
It was 100% cotton, which indicated wealth. It was a solid green color. There was fur on it. That, Danny hadnât expected. Most of it was black, but there were some white strands as well. Likely a mostly black animal with some white patches? The cuffs were worn, and there were slight wrinkles in the elbows and lower half of the sleeves. Dannyâs older brother liked to roll up his sleeves a lot. The pants had the same type of animal hair and were of hush quality as well, not telling Danny much about his sibling.Â
Danny heard cursing coming from the kitchen. He exited the bathroom, finding Red Robin trying to mop up an overflowing pot of milk. Milk tended to bubble up quickly once it boiled. Did Red Robin not know that?Â
âUh. Just⊠give me a minute. I have this under control!â Red Robin told him flustered.Â
The kitchen was actually pretty bare except for a super shiny and well used coffee machine. The rest of it had a small layer of dust. What did the man eat? Take out? Said man was opening a dusty box with round chocolate orbs.Â
âNightwing gave me these. Said I should be able to boil milk and then just put them in a mug. They should still be good?â Red Robin questioned. Danny got the feeling he wasnât supposed to answer that.Â
After all of that mess, he got a mug that was filled with warm milk and one of the chocolate balls dropped in. Danny was ushered to the couch again. Red Robin gave him a ton of blankets to snuggle under. Then the man left him for his own room. Danny sipped his chocolate, thinking. Danny had taken a risk to trust the vigilante, and the vigilante had taken a risk to trust Danny. Wait, that was the sound of security activating. Okay, maybe not a ton of risk, but it was smart of Red Robin to try and keep a kid trained by the League of Assassins out of his room while he slept.Â
He yawned.
Danny really needed to sleep.Â
First though, he opened the bag, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes seeing how the posters were ruined from the rain. The Javelin was fine, as it was made out of plastic. It was fine. Not all of his gifts from Tim had been ruined. Danny sniffled a bit, then sneezed. Setting his mug down on the coffee table, Danny wrapped himself in blankets and made himself comfortable on the couch, falling asleep almost immediately.Â
He was shivering and cold, his head was pounding, and snot was dripping from his nose. Heâd caught a cold. Danny coughed weakly. His immune system was pretty good, and it had always been good as a halfa. Not eating enough, not getting enough sleep, and being soaked for a while had taken their toll and how he was sick.Â
Weakly, Danny stumbled off of the couch, clinging to the blankets around him. They dragged behind him like a little cape. He made his way to the door that had to be Red Robinâs bedroom. Danny knocked. It was faint, way too faint. Gritting his teeth, Danny knocked harder so it could actually be heard. He waited, swaying slightly. Oh, there was movement from inside the bedroom. The door opened, and Danny was looking up at Tim. What was Tim doing - oh. Tim = Red Robin. If his brain was currently trying to boil itself to make him feel better, Danny would think that over a bit more.Â
âI donât feel good,â he announced sadly. Tim frowned, reaching out to feel his forehead. Alarm flashed across his face.Â
âYeah, youâre definitely sick. Um, letâs get you back on the couch. Iâll⊠call back up and get you some kids motrin or something. Chicken soup, thatâll⊠yeah.â
Danny went back to the couch, cocooning himself inside his blankets, not before he grabbed the Javelin. It was his only toy, and he was going to hold on to it and cuddle it, even if it was a bit pokey. Maybe he should have taken the time to swipe the bear from Nightwing. It had been bought just for him. No. Danny shook his head. He could not be bribed! Not with gifts or toys! That was what Vlad did! It was scummy! The only reason heâd accepted the stuff from Tim was because heâd spent the whole day with Danny talking about space and the stars. Heâd earned some of Dannyâs trust.Â
Tim came back, on the phone with someone, sitting down on the couch next to Danny. Danny wanted hugs. He wanted cuddles. He felt bad and icky and just wanted someone to hold him and tell him it would all be better. He couldnât remember that happening at all in this life, and it happening rarely in his other one. Danny sniffed, trying to hold back tears. Why were his lives always so crazy and bad?
â-heâs got a bit of a fever. Can you bring a fever reducer? Can I also bother you to make some chicken soup? I um. I have no vegetables or food in my fridge. I have milk and coffee creamer, but thatâs about it.âÂ
Tim was distracted. Maybe he wouldnât notice Danny shuffling closer. Okay, that was a lie. He was a vigilante, heâd totally know. Tim had taken Danny in last night and given him shelter. That had to mean something, didnât it? Tim ran his free hand through his hair, looking admonished. Whoever was on the phone was giving him a good scolding.Â
âI eat! I promise! You know I canât cook Alfred. Not like you and Jason can. Coffee is about the best I can do. I over boiled the milk last night. It was supposed to be easy, just warm the milk and then drop the hot chocolate bombs in there. Yeah they were good. See you soon Alfred. Thanks for everything.â
âAlfredâs coming?â Danny asked, his throat all scratchy from the nasal drip.Â
âYeah. Heâs on his way with food and medicine. Um. Do you want to watch cartoons?â Tim asked. âI can make you some tea. Pretty sure I have peppermint. Alfred says itâs good for when youâre sick.âÂ
âYeah. Sounds good.âÂ
Tim left, and Danny slumped in his pile of blankets.Â
He could hear the sounds of an electric water kettle and the sound of the coffee machine starting up. Tim came back to grab Dannyâs hot chocolate mug from last night, puttering around the living room. Tim was in a pair of boxers and an oversized sweater. Since the domino was off, Danny could see the deep circles under the teenâs eyes. Tim had to be a teen, right? Ages were hard to figure out with his brain a mix of old Danny and young Danny. Everyone was older than him, so it didnât really matter that much. It was just how much older than him they were.Â
The TV lit up, his companion using the remote to go to a streaming service. A show called Bluey was selected. He wasnât a baby! He didnât need to watch a show about dogs and their life! It⊠wasnât that bad though. It was much better than Paw Patrol, which heâd seen glimpses of while he was fleeing Nanda Parbat. It made his chest ache though. Heâd never had a family like that. Not in his past life, and not in this one.Â
It wasnât fair.Â
Heâd been reincarnated here, why was he given such a crappy hand again? Wasnât the whole thing about karma that you would reincarnate into a better life? Hadnât Danny been good in his last one? Heâd been a hero, heâd helped others! None of this was fair!Â
Danny was brought out of his thoughts when Tim set down two mugs. One was clearly coffee, and the other was the tea. Both were steaming. Tim left and came back with a damp cloth.Â
âCome on, we need to put this on your forehead to try and cool you down a bit. I donât have a thermometer, but it seemed pretty high to me. Are you okay? You lookedâŠ. Sad.â Tim said softly, folding the cloth and placing it on Dannyâs forehead.Â
âItâs not fair.âÂ
âWhatâs not fair?â
âThis. All of this. I just wanted a better life. I just wanted to be free.â He wasnât sure if he was making sense or not. He didnât care.Â
âIs that why you ran?â
âYeah. Mom wants me to kill. Dad makes people fight. Neither was good. I just wanted to be normal. I want to be an astronaut. I didnât ask for this,â Danny complained. Oh, he was a little dizzy now. The cloth felt nice, but he was still having the chills. So he still had a bad fever.Â
There was a sound elsewhere in the apartment. He should care, but all he could focus on was how miserable he felt. There were footsteps. Two people came in, but they were blurry.Â
âDid Talia give you the powers?â Danny shuddered. Weakly, he put his palm over Timâs mouth.Â
âSHHH. Mom doesnât know. She was dumb. Hired this - this guy who didnât like her. He killed me. So I got a bath in the green pool. Thatâs where the powers come from. But thatâs where the - the voice, the other me is from. Older me. He saidâŠ. He said mom wouldnât ever love me the way I wanted her to. She wasnât capable.â Danny hiccuped, the tears heâd been holding back starting to fall. There was a crash from the blurry people. Oh, Tim was looking blurry too.Â
âSaid mom would never let me go if she found out what I could do now. So I practiced in secret. She canât know,â Danny insisted.Â
âWe wonât tell her. What does this⊠other voice say about me? About your dad?â Tim asked. His voice was nice and calm. Soothing even. Ugh, he was getting tired of all the stuff about his dad though. Â
âHe doesnât mind you. You like to talk about space with us. So youâre cool. My dad⊠he thinks heâs weird. Who runs around dressed like a bat? People who arenât all there. But this whole place is weird. I donât understand a lot. Um. Tim?âÂ
âYeah Danny?âÂ
âEverything is spinning.âÂ
That was all Danny got out before everything went dark and he felt himself pitch forward.
When he woke up, he felt a lot cooler. He was in a bathtub filled with cold water. Danny saw a few pieces of ice floating in the water. There was a man with black hair and a white tuft of hair in the front reading a novel. Not just any novel, it was Pride and Prejudice. He was big and muscular. It would have been more intimidating, if he wasnât sitting clothed on top of the toilet.Â
âWhoâre you?â Thatâs what Danny tried to say, but it came out really mumbled. The black and white haired guy looked up. There were so many nicknames that were flitting through his head at this point. Magpie. Skunk. Cow. Panda. Penguin. Sebra. There were so many animals that were black and white.Â
âIâm Jason. Howâre you feeling?â Jason got off of the toilet, kneeling down beside the bathtub to feel Dannyâs forehead. He had to move a damp washcloth to do so.Â
âI feel yucky. But not as bad as before,â Danny reported. Jason nodded, removing his hand.
âSeems like your fever has gone down a bit.â That was good. âYou up to taking some Motrin? It will help even more. Your choice.âÂ
It was nice of them to give him the option. Little Danny had never gotten to choose what happened to him. Mom and Grandfather had always decided for him. Was giving him a choice a reverse psychology thing? Heâd be more likely to take it if he had a choice? Also, Jason was new. Danny didnât know this guy, didnât trust him.Â
âIâll pick after I talk to Tim.â Tim hadnât lied or done anything to make Danny mistrust him. He also hadnât pressured Danny. Jason nodded.Â
âOkay. Iâll get him. We took shifts watching you.âÂ
With that, Jason got up and left the bathroom. Danny sat up a bit, the washcloth on his head falling off into the tub. Heâd been propped up on some stacked towels. He was still in his underwear, thank goodness. The bathroom was sea themed, the walls a pale blue. The soap holder was shaped like a seashell and the toothbrush holder looked like red coral. There was a painting with palm trees and the beach on it. The shower curtain, which had been pulled back, was covered in fish. It was a cute little bathroom. He hadnât really focused on it last night when heâd changed clothes, more intrigued by what he could learn about his brother. Assuming it hadnât been that long since heâd passed out.
Danny brought up his knees, bringing them to his chest. Here, in the bathtub, he felt so small and alone. It didnât last long, as the door opened. Standing in the open doorway was Tim. Behind him, Danny could see Alfred and Jason. Tim left the door open and walked in. Like Jason had, he knelt next to the bathtub, leaning against the porcelain tub.Â
âJason said you wanted to see me.â Timâs tone was neutral.Â
âYeah. He mentioned Motrin, and that I didnât have to take it,â Danny explained. Tim nodded.Â
âYes. You can take some Motrin, if you want. It will help get rid of your fever and some of your symptoms. If you donât want to take it, you would need to get back in the ice bath the next time it spikes. We have a new bottle, unopened. I can open it in front of you, if that makes you feel better.â Relief flooded his body. Yes, that would make him feel a lot better. Never could be too safe after having grown up with assassins. Plus heâd been unconscious for a while. They would have had plenty of time to tamper with things. That did include the Motrin bottle, but it would be harder to hide that.Â
âThat. Can you open it in front of me and let me read the bottle before I have any?â Danny turned to the side, turning closer to the edge of the tub. It was faint, but he could hear Jason and Alfred whispering in the hallway.Â
âItâs ironic how he likes Tim. Demon Brat hated Timâs guts and loved Dick,â Jason mused.Â
âI would prefer if you did not refer to Master Damian as that around me,â Alfred scolded.Â
âSorry. Habit.â Alfred merely tutted in response.Â
Danny did not want to focus on that. Yet his mind was already whirring. Demon Brat. That could only be his older brother. Alfred had called him Master Damian. Which meant the Damian Danny had met the other day. Danny had met his older brother. He felt⊠conflicted. Older Danny lamented, as his older sister, Jazz, had been incredible, one of the best siblings someone could ask for. Danny hadnât like Damian. At all. But⊠Tim had been Damianâs older brother. So that meant he was Dannyâs brother too. Tim wouldnât replace Jazz, no one could. But Danny was looking forward to an older sibling, one that he wasnât being compared to.Â
This didnât mean that he was living with Batman!
Wait, this meant Batman was Bruce!
âDanny? Are you still with me?â Tim asked worriedly. He was holding the unopened Motrin bottle. One of the others must have brought it to him. Heâd missed that.Â
âHuh? Yeah. Can I see it?âÂ
Tim didnât answer, handing it over. Danny skimmed the ingredients on the back. He also turned it over, checking the seal. It all looked good, so he let Tim pour himself some. Danny tipped his head back and took it like a shot of alcohol. That came from older Danny. Tim kept a calm, expressionless face, but Jason had clearly seen Danny throw back that little cup of Motrin, and he didnât look thrilled.Â
Danny got out of the tub on shaky legs. Alfred brought him a towel, and he reluctantly let the elderly gentleman help dry him. Danny made his way back to the couch, where he was basically swaddled in blankets. Danny refused to let someone feed him, insisting he could do it himself. Tim sat on the loveseat that was diagonal from the couch. He was resting his legs on the coffee table. After finishing the soup, which heâd thanked Alfred for, Danny sneakily made his way over to the loveseat. He wanted to sit next to Tim, snuggle into his side.Â
Being sick made it harder than normal. He was so weak right now. Danny could tell Tim was keeping an eye on him. It would be okay, as long as he wasnât rejected. Pulling himself and his mess of blankets onto the seat was the hardest part. Tim didnât react as Danny slowly leaned against him, resting his head on Timâs left arm. He wasnât pushed off, so he counted that as a success. Tim kept working, fingers flying across the screen. Not that Danny could see it, as the brightness was lowered when he came closer. There also seemed to be a privacy screen on the laptop.Â
Tim probably had a lot of sensitive stuff on there, as Red Robin.Â
Jason stretched out on the couch, returning to reading Pride and Prejudice. Not before snapping a picture of Danny and Tim on the couch. Danny glared at the man, but he wasnât cowed by his best one. Darn. Thankfully Tim wasnât having it.Â
âIf you send that to Dick and he comes here disrupting what trust Iâve built so far, there will be glitter in all of your safe houses and you wonât be safe for months,â Tim threatened, not even bothering to look up from his laptop. Danny couldnât help but laugh a little. It came out raspy and ended in a cough.Â
âFine, Baby Bird. Iâll wait. I just want to rub it in Dickieâs face.â Jason didnât sound that put out.Â
Danny sighed and snuggled a little closer to Tim. He had a lot to think about. This was all good for now, but did he really want to give in and live with his dad? Tim was nice. How long would that last? How long would any of this peace and care last? It never had in his previous life or this one. Little Danny wanted to give in and have a family. Older Danny was skeptical. He was paranoid.
Tim turned Bluey back on, and Danny watched it listlessly. He was still half out of it. Alfred came by, checking Dannyâs forehead and talking to Tim and Jason. The rest of the day was spent mostly resting and eating the warm soup that Jason and Alfred had made. Eventually both of them had to go. After they left, Danny felt good enough to take a shower. Heâd had to promise not to lock the door, so Tim could get in if he got too dizzy or anything.Â
It was worth it though, to be able to stand under the warm spray. It had been a long time since heâd been able to shower. A few months? It was good to wash the grime from his skin and watch it go down the drain. Some of it had come off when theyâd put him in the ice bath, but not all of it. Danny probably needed a haircut, as the wet hair was getting into his eyes a little.Â
After he got out, Danny investigated the cabinets. There were a lot of interesting products in the bathroom. Timâs lotion wasnât as thick as the one theyâd used in Nada Panbarat. He⊠might have put too much on. There was a surprising amount of makeup in here. And perfume. Well, technically cologne because Tim was a man. It all smelled horrible though. Danny ignored the cleaning supplies. There was shaving equipment, but nothing else that was very interesting. It was only after his investigation that he realized he didnât have any clean clothes to wear.Â
Looks like heâd have to ask Tim for some.Â
Danny exited the bathroom in a towel, padding over to where Tim was still on the couch.Â
âUm. Do you have any more clothes for me?â Tim looked up.Â
âOh. Yeah, Jason brought some. Itâs in that box over there. Hopefully it all fits. We had to guess your size.âÂ
Looking through the box, Danny found some nice blue pjs with stars all over them. His heart clenched. These⊠had been bought for him. Bought because they knew he liked the stars. He went back to the bathroom to change into them. Once that was done, Tim seemed surprised that Danny crawled back on the couch next to him, snuggling back into his spot. Really, why wouldnât he? Tim checked his temperature and made him take a bit more Motrin. Tim was hesitating. There was something he was worried about. Older Danny advised him to wait.Â
âDo you⊠do you want to sleep in the bed with me? It will be more comfortable than the couch,â Tim offered. Ah. Thatâs what he was nervous about. Little Danny was practically screaming in happiness and excitement. Older Danny was trying to keep their cool and not potentially screw everything up.Â
âYeah. If my fever gets worse, youâll be right there,â Danny agreed.Â
He could pretend, just for the night, that Tim was his family, his big brother and he was Timâs beloved baby brother. Ancients, that fever was making him a bit delusional. One night would be okay.Â
***
Heâd been with Tim for a full day now.Â
Danny needed to make a decision. Was he going to stay or was he going to go? He was in limbo here. He couldnât really just stay here with Tim, could he? Was Tim even an adult? He looked like he was on the edge between being a teenager and an adult. Tim did have his own apartment though, so probably adult? If he did leave, where would he go? Metropolis? Central City? Star City? Those all had heroes though. Heroes who were friends with Batman. That would surely get his dad to come and try to catch him.Â
If he stayed here, with Tim, his dad might leave him alone? But heâd also have to see him. Was that a bad thing, little Danny wondered. Older Danny didnât know. They had judged Batman based on how he looked. Bruce⊠had been weird and a bit awkward, but older Danny had been so, so awkward when heâd been a teenager in their previous life. Maybe Bruce had never grown out of that? It would explain how he had no shame when it came to running around in his fursuit. It wasnât even that great of a fursuit, older Danny snarked. Their friend Tucker had made much better ones.Â
Danny sighed.Â
He was so comfy in the bed. He didnât want to get up, but he was getting hungry. Tim was still out, the covers wrapped around him, drooling on the pillow. Danny sat up, alert, when he heard the security system beep, allowing someone in.Â
âTimmy! Baby Bird! Are you sick and hiding? Alfred doesnât go and make soup for just anyone. Tim?â called out a masculine voice. Danny didnât recognize it. Worried, Danny crawled closer to Tim and started shaking him.Â
âWha?â Tim sleepily asked. It was too late though, as the door to the bedroom opened.Â
âGood morning Sunshine! Itâs -â the man halted in the door frame, his mouth open in shock. Timâs eyes widened.Â
âDonât!â The man didnât listen, running forward and leaping onto the bed. He was going to touch them! He was going to touch Tim and Danny! Panicking, Danny held onto Timâs arm, turning them both intangible and invisible.Â
âTim? Danny?â The man sounded surprised and shocked when he landed on the bed, the springs creaking.Â
âThis feels⊠weird.â Tim said. Danny could see his faint outline turn towards him. âItâs okay Danny. Heâs not going to hurt us. Dickâs just super physically affectionate.â Danny thought that over. He didnât want to turn off his powers, not yet.Â
âHeâs the one that you told Jason not to text yesterday?â Tim sighed. Dick sat up, looking to where the sigh had come from.Â
âYeah. Dickâs over affectionate. I didnât think that youâd⊠want to be smothered in his hugs and attention. Not yet. Weâre still building trust here.âÂ
Feeling better with the answer, Danny let go of his powers before crawling behind Tim, peeking out at Dick. Oh boy. He could practically see Dick vibrating with the urge to hug Danny. No thank you! Older Danny didnât trust it and little Danny wasnât used to hugs. So it was a no go for now. Tim accepted a hug though.Â
âI brought breakfast. Itâs only for two, but I can go out and grab some more,â Dick offered.Â
âThanks,â Tim sounded relieved. Dick laughed.Â
âNo sweat. I canât cook either. Iâll see you two again in about⊠oh, thirty minutes or so? Thatâll be enough time for me to grab the food and for you two to get ready for the day.â Dick ruffled Timâs hair. His hand reached for Danny, but pulled back after Danny leaned away. He left the bedroom. Shortly after the security system beeped.Â
Danny crawled out from behind Tim.Â
Heâd made his decision.Â
Danny would stay with Tim, even if it meant having to deal with Batman. Tim understood him and didnât push for him to do anything and gave him choices. He was also totally aware of where they stood, that Danny didnât fully trust him yet. It also meant Danny would be warm, fed, and taken care of. Yes, Tim was the best choice.
Tim and Danny changed into clothes. He allowed his older brother Tim to check his temperature. The coffee maker got turned on and he got a glass of water. While Dick had left the two portions of food behind, it wasnât nice to eat it without him also being there. Whatever was in there smelled greasy and good. Dannyâs stomach growled. He climbed up onto the barstool to take a peek in the bag. Hash browns, sausages, eggs, pancakes, and more. All carby and delicious.Â
âYou can start eating. Dick wonât mind,â Tim said, sipping on his coffee.Â
Well. He had permission? Hesitantly, Danny pulled out one of the hash browns. It crunched so satisfyingly, with a nice, warm mushy middle. Greasy food was something older Danny had all the time in the other world. Little Danny hadnât tasted it yet. This was his first time. He hadnât been desperate enough to dumpster dive for food yet behind a McDonalds. Danny finished the first one, then grabbed the second one savoring it. The security system beeped. Dick was back.Â
âBoys! I have noms!â Dick cheered. He was grinning as he walked into the open concept kitchen and living room. He was carrying three bags of food.Â
âDick, how much food do you think we can eat?!?â Tim protested.Â
âNot a lot. But I texted Jason, and heâll be here soon. Oh! Here! I got them to give me all of the Happy Meal toys! I have a few things in the car that I need to bring up, so Iâll be back in a sec. Feel free to dig in!â Dick placed two of the bags on the counter and handed the third to Danny.Â
âWait a minute. You canât just invite people over to my apartment! Dick!âÂ
âSorry Tim! Canât hear you!â Dick sang as he walked back out. Tim huffed.Â
âDid you get anything good?â he asked, looking at the bag Dick had handed Danny.Â
Honestly, he didnât know. Reaching in, he pulled out the first one. It was Wonder Woman, her lasso up in the air. Okay, that was kinda cool. Flash, Green Lantern, Hawgirl, Martian Manhunter, Superman, andâŠ. Batman. Annoyed, he passed Batman to Tim.Â
âCan you put this in the trash please?â Tim took the Batman toy, looking at it and biting his lip.Â
âHow about I hold on to it? For now?â Danny didnât have a chance to answer as Dick came back into the apartment.Â
âAlright! Food time!âÂ
The three of them ate. Danny didnât talk much, listening to the two brothers talk. He tried to squash some of his jealousy. It was so⊠normal and mundane. How was work? How were their friends? How was Timâs boyfriend? When would Danny have a nice life like that? Heâd really like some friends please. Honestly, some friends, a home, three square meals a day, and a nice normal kindergarten werenât much to ask for.Â
Oh, he needed to ask Tim if he could live with him. Permanently. That was a lot to ask though. Maybe he should do the long con. Ask Tim if he could stay for a bit. Then just just never leave. Yeah, that might work. Danny sipped from the chocolate milk that Dick had gotten him. Halfway through breakfast, Jason came. He slotted right in with the others. He felt⊠ignored. Unseen. Left out. Ancient' emotions were so much stronger when you were little. Danny tried so hard not to cry. Not to show how sad he was.Â
He slid down off of the barstool, ignoring the looks he got from the others. They didnât stop talking though. Danny went back into Timâs bedroom and climbed onto his bed. He spent a few minutes dragging all of the blankets into the corner, where the mattress was pressed against the wall. His little nest of blankets. Maybe he could pretend for a little bit that he was being held and snuggled by his older brother Tim. He was being stupid though. Getting so attached to some guy who had shown him kindness. Expecting to fit right in, when theyâd all been brothers for years.Â
It still hurt though.Â
He wished he could fast forward. To where Tim and the others trusted him and he trusted them. Then he could get the physical affection he craved safely. Danny was pulled out of his thoughts by a gentle knock on the open door. Tim entered, but stayed by the doorway.Â
âDanny? Are you feeling okay?â It was nice that Tim was checking on him. It was probably because heâd been sick.Â
âMâfine,â he mumbled. Tim clearly didnât believe him, crawling in bed to feel his forehead. Danny let him.Â
âYouâre not warm.â Tim looked into Dannyâs eyes. He squirmed. It felt like Tim was analyzing him, staring into his very soul.Â
Seeing something in there, Tim just⊠picked him up. Danny didnât protest. He wrapped his arms around his brotherâs Timâs neck, burying his face into the manâs T-shirt. Tim let out a short, surprised laugh. Danny got carried back out to the group. He turned to pout and glare a little at Jason and Dick. He wanted some alone time with his brother Tim! Dick in particular looked smug.Â
âTold you,â he said with a blinding grin.Â
âYeah. Yeah you did. I didnât fully believe it, but you were totally right,â Tim responded.Â
âYouâre the chosen one, Timbo,â Jason teased.Â
âOh, shut up.âÂ
Danny didnât mind anymore, that the brothers were talking. He was snuggled against Tim. His brother person.Â
***
The rest of the day wasnât bad. It also wasnât great. Danny played a bit with the toys except for Batman. He had the Justice League fly around in the Javelin. While Tim hadnât been willing to throw Batman, Jason had. Heâd done it pretty gleefully too. Dick had rescued the stupid toy from the trash though. Whatever. It was pretty clear Dick was Nightwing and Jason was the Red Hood. He was smart. Also, Dick had brought out the astronaut Build a Bear toy. Overall, the day hadnât been bad. Dick had left, but Jason was lingering. Heâd made a really nice sage and apple chicken dinner with peas and mashed potatoes. It had been really good.Â
Danny put down the toy Javelin.Â
Something felt off, felt wrong.Â
Little Danny had gotten it beat into him to always follow his instincts. He got up and went over to Tim, tugging on his pants.Â
âSomethingâs wrong. I donât know what,â he alerted his brother Tim. Immediately, Timâs hand went to his forehead. Danny batted it away.Â
âNo, Iâm not sick again. Itâs something else, I donât -âÂ
Danny didnât get a chance to finish his sentence as the security system went off. Next thing he knew, there was the sound of an explosion outside, and the living room wall became dented and discolored.Â
âFuck!â Jason cursed. âTim!â Danny yelped as he was lifted into the air.Â
âIâve got Danny! Iâm going to set off the emergency beacon! B, Nightwing, and Robin are on patrol tonight. My gearâs in the bedroom and in the hall. You think you can hold âem off?â Tim yelled over the sound of another explosion. The wall was buckling. It wasnât going to withstand another hit.Â
âYou got it. My gearâs downstairs on my bike. Thereâs plenty of kitchen knives though,â Jason responded with a vicious grin.Â
Danny felt like a football as he was carried into the bedroom. He was lightly tossed onto the bed, bouncing on the mattress. Tim hurriedly stripped and opened a panel in the wall, frantically changing into his outfit. Once he was dressed, Tim looked back at him.Â
âStay.â
Danny huffed. Yeah, no. Danny wandered out, behind Tim. The wall was broken, and there were ninjas. Specifically members of the League of Assassins. His mother was there too, looking as calm and poised as ever.Â
âTimothy. My father would be disappointed if you were to be harmed. Do step aside. I merely wish to collect my son,â Mother said.Â
âYeah, thatâs not happening. He doesnât exactly want to go with you. He wants to stay with Timmy,â Jason laughed. âGuess he takes after Raâs that way.âÂ
âReally Jason?â Tim complained, his bo staff at the ready, body tense and ready to leap forward. Danny approached, standing next to his brother Tim. âDanny! Get back in the bedroom!â Tim hissed at him.Â
Nah.Â
Danny was going to help in this fight. If needed. The fighting started. Tim and Jason were holding their own. For now. Mother hadnât joined the fight. She looked Danny in the eye. Little Danny wavered. This was his MOTHER. Sheâd raised him. Sheâd taught him everything he knew. Older Danny rebelled. Just because she was his mom didnât mean that she was good! Talia had been cruel to them! Sheâd gotten them killed! It was her fault, her fault that they remembered who they were before, that their conscience was split in two. Hadnât Tim been kinder to him? Heâd taken care of Danny when he was sick. Heâd tried his best to give him space and go at his pace. Heâd gotten him food and let Danny snuggle him as much as he was comfortable with.Â
Tim and Jason were losing. They were outnumbered. Mother was walking towards him. Tim growled, doing his best to keep all of the assailants away from Danny, uncaring of the wound he received. Seeing how Tim was fighting for him⊠they were in agreement.Â
âGoing ghost,â Danny whispered to himself, letting the transformation wash over him.
All heads turned to look at Danny as light engulfed his body. He wasnât going to have much time, so he needed to make every bit count. Gathering the ectoplasm Lazarus magic in his hands, he sent it towards all of the attackers. It pinned them to the walls and the rubble around them, acting like a sticky glue. Danny stepped out from behind Tim, trying to look as confident as possible. He was going to need everything heâd learned in this life and the previous one to confront her and talk this through peacefully.Â
Shoulder back.Â
Head held high.Â
âMother.â She was looking at him in awe. He figured he still looked like he had in human form, just inverted. He also had no idea what clothes he was in. Danny was⊠taller than his mother. It dawned on him that his ghost form was the age of her older aspect of him. That both made sense and did not. It was older Danny at the forefront at this moment in time.Â
âDanyal,â she breathed. âYou have been blessed.â Oh boy. Right, the League of Assassins was basically an ectoplasm Lazarus Pit cult.Â
âBlessing. Curse. It depends on your perspective,â he told her, doing his best to sound mature and like an adult.Â
âBeing revived in the waters of the Lazarus Pit has given me clarity. They have given me a maturity I donât want and one that has shown me the path you had placed me on. Mother. I love you. I know you love me. It is not enough. I desire companionship. Friends. Siblings. To feel safe and carefree. To be able to play. That is something I will never have while living with you.â Danny saw a muscle in her jaw twitch at his words. He kept speaking, injecting some of his power, making his words stronger and resonate with power.Â
âChildhood is precious. The innocence that you seek to rip away from me can never be restored once it has been lost. The League claims to be for a better world and to rid it from corruption. Yet you would sacrifice a child? Your own flesh and blood to do so? Not only that, your desire for me to be strong caused you to have me train with a man who sought vengeance on our family; who ran his sword through my heart.â Out of the corner of his eye, Danny saw Nightwing, Batman, and Robin arrive. They were cautious, yet confused as to what was happening. Nightwing stopped to help Jason patch some of his wounds.Â
âYou are the cause of my creation. Yet you are also the reason I died. You are the reason I was blessed. The reason I have been cursed. You have soured the relationship between my biological brother by constantly comparing us. It will likely take years, potentially decades, for me to unpack and unwind the hate that I feel for him. There is a chance our relationship has been permanently destroyed. While I love you, this⊠power that I have been given warns me away from you. It speaks to me, telling me how toxic you are and how I will never be happy or at peace with you. Being with you will only make me miserable.â
âI love you, Mother.â Danny took a shaky breath.Â
âBut not enough to doom myself to a life of pain and suffering.â
âIt draws you towards your father?â she asked quietly. Ancients, he hated this. Talia was hiding it as best she could, but Danny could see her hurt and pain.Â
âNo. Someone who would willingly have children be vigilantes is not a healthy parent either.â Danny heard the muffled gasps and intakes of breaths from around him. None of them mattered at this point in time besides his mother and Tim. He stepped forward and cupped her face.Â
âMother. This does not mean we cannot ever see each other again. Nor does it mean that I hold less affection for you. Nothing will ever change the fact that I am of your blood. I beseech you to reconsider your path. It is never too late to take a different one.â Danny rested his forehead against hers.Â
He hated that he had to be this cruel and to hurt her with his words. He had to do it so she would let him go. Mother had loved his brother enough to let him so, so it only made sense that she would love Danny enough to separate from him too. Talia stepped back from him.Â
âGoodbye Danyal. I will stop my pursuit of you. Till we meet again, my little star.â She turned and walked away from him, jumping off the edge of the broken and ruined wall into the dark night.Â
OH.Â
She did know him well enough to know he loved the stars.
Dannyâs core throbbed and he released his hold on his ghost form, shrinking back to that of a child. The bonds holding the assassins faded, and they sprinted away, following his mother. Danny sniffed, tears falling down his cheeks. That had sucked. He hadnât wanted to do that. It was necessary. Older Danny had done a good job. He wiped his eyes. Tim gently touched his arm. Danny turned and flung himself at his brother the older boy, sobbing. He felt bad. Timâs apartment had gotten destroyed because of Danny.Â
Danny clung to Tim. He didnât let anyone else take him. Tim grappled them to the Batcave. His Javelin toy had been destroyed. Danny decided to ignore the fact that there was a smaller tracker in the body of the plane. It was obvious that was how Tim had found him a few days ago when heâd hid between the air conditioner units. The astronaut bear had survived though. Dick - Nightwing - wanted to take him, but Danny refused to let go of Tim. He even turned intangible a bit so Dickâs hands would go right through him. Danny didnât want to leave his older brother person.Â
There was a lot of arguing. None of them knew what to make of Dannyâs affliction. Thatâs what they called his ghost form. Theyâd apparently dealt with ectoplasm Lazarus Pit water before. Jason especially. They hadnât become half ghosts like Danny though. It sounded like they didnât even know what that was. Tim tried to convince Danny to talk, to speak up and explain what he knew. He just grumbled and told them not now. He was still hurting. He didnât want to sleep yet. But Nocturne was calling for him, dragging him under. He let himself succumb.Â
***
He had nightmares. Could they be called that, if they were just repeats of what had happened that day? His harsh words to his mother and her walking away. Danny woke up a few times that night, tears falling down his cheeks and a whimper stuck in his throat. Each time he was encouraged to fall back asleep by a large, warm hand that would stroke his hair and tucked a soft blanket around him. After the fitful night, he woke up.Â
Danny was still in the cave. He was on a cot, surrounded with soft blankets. During the night, someone must have given him the bear, as he was cuddling it. It was soothing, to cling to it. To bury his face in its soft fur. He ignored the man in the chair next to the cot. His father.Â
âHow are you feeling?â His father, Batman, asked. He wasnât in his Batman gear anymore. Just a dark turtleneck and slacks. He looked tired. Danny shrugged, not wanting to talk. He looked around. Where was Tim? He wanted Tim.Â
Danny didnât answer his dad. He really didnât know what to make of the man. Bruce had been okay, if a bit overbearing at the observatory. Heâd spent a lot of the time watching Danny and Damian and keeping Damian from exploding when Danny pressed his buttons. Batman had chased and chased after him. Just wanting to catch him and keep him. What did he want with Danny? He just wanted Tim. Tim was safe and nice and would explain things. He would give Danny a choice instead of just forcing him to do what he wanted.Â
That was why Danny liked Tim.Â
âDanny?â Batman asked, watching him carefully.Â
âWhereâs Tim?â Danny asked softly. He had regained some of his strength. He could turn invisible and intangible for a bit. Probably. The problem was that he didnât know where Tim was.Â
âTim is upstairs in his room sleeping. Did you want to see him?â Danny blinked in surprise and nodded. âFollow me.âÂ
He hadnât been expecting that. Grabbing the astronaut bear, Danny followed Batman/Bruce through the cave and to an elevator. He stood on the opposite end during the ride up, glancing at his father often. They exited through a clock? It was a cool secret door. He followed Bruce down some halls and up a set of stairs. He knocked on a door.Â
âTim? Are you awake? Thereâs someone who wants to see you.â There was a groan from within.Â
Danny perked up. That was totally Tim! Turning intangible, he ran through the closed door and into the dark room. He jumped on the bed. Sure enough, eyes barely open, that was Tim. Danny crawled up towards his brotherâs personâs face. He laid down in the crook of the other manâs arms, nuzzling into Timâs chest. Danny felt better here. Safer. The door opened and a triangle of light fell onto the bed. Tim groaned, and hand flying up to protect his eyes.Â
âItâs way too early for this,â Tim complained. There was a light chuckle from the door.Â
âChum, itâs nearly noon.âÂ
âLies,â Tim said with a sigh. He sad up a bit, jostling Danny. Tim looked down, seeming to realize Danny was there. âCoffee. I need so much coffee.â
Right. Heâd only been with Tim for a day or two, but he already knew that his brother didnât function very well without his caffeine. Tim staggered out of bed, fumbling to get into his slippers. Danny slid down to follow him. Should he go for Timâs hand? Yes, he wanted to hold it. Using a burst of courage, he took Timâs hand. Tim stopped in the hallway, looking down at their joined hands. Oh no. Did Tim not want to hold hands?!? Dannyâs face burned and he tried to let go. Except⊠he couldnât. Tim gripped his hand tightly, then resumed walking, Danny following in surprise. There was a hum from behind them. Right. Bruce. He was still there. Danny had kinda forgotten about him.Â
The dining room was empty, so they went into the kitchen. Tim still held his hand as he began to fill the coffee machine with ground beans and water. It was rather funny watching. Mr. Pennyworth came out from what Danny suspected was a pantry.Â
âMaster Timothy. Wonderful to see you up and about. Iâd feared we wouldnât see you until supper.â Oooh. Mr. Pennyworth had some sass and snark to him! Danny giggled.Â
âMaster Danny. Wonderful to see you. Would you like some hot chocolate? Lunch will be ready in half an hour. Can you boys wait that long?â Mr. Pennyworth asked this as he confidently strode through the kitchen; checking in the oven, stirring a pot on the stove, and washing lettuce for a salad.Â
âYes, I would like some hot chocolate. Thank you,â Danny responded. He liked Mr. Pennyworth, so heâd be polite.Â
âI can wait till lunch is ready. Although I wouldnât mind a small snackâŠâ Tim said, sitting down at the table.Â
Danny sat down next to him. Bruce sat across from them. Before he knew it, hot chocolate was placed before him. He sipped on it and Tim drank his coffee. Bruce was just watching them. Danny did his best to ignore his father. He still had his bear. He wished he had his javelin. It was sad that itâd gotten broken the other day. Alfred gave them a plate with some crackers, cheese, and little meats. It was basically a charcuterie board. It was yummy and he kept going. He stopped when heâd eaten about half of the board. Tim had eaten some along with him.Â
The silence was awkward.Â
He wasnât going to break it though.Â
When Mr. Pennyworth told them lunch was ready, all three of them walked to the dining room. Danny made sure to grab Timâs hand again. Danny wasnât expecting others to be there. He saw Dick, Jason, Damian, and two women. One had blonde hair, the other black. That could only mean Spoiler and Black Bat. Dick got up as they walked in. He had a large grin on his face. He pulled back the chair Tim had been heading towards. Dick patted it.Â
âThanks?â Tim sounded confused. Thatâs okay, Danny was confused too. He didnât see a whoopie cushion or anything on the seat, but that didnât mean there wasnât some sort of hidden prank. Tim sat down. Danny let go, as he was going to sit in his own seat. Even if he would have a hard time looking over the edge of the table. Danny was rather small for a five year old. Heâd been taller at five in his previous life.Â
Danny got what Dick was doing when he felt himself get picked up. Except. Danny didnât want to be touched by Dick. He didnât want to be picked up by Dick. He only trusted Tim right now. So he unleashed some of his freeze powers to make Dick let him go! He growled, angry at being picked up without his consent. Danny stopped as soon as he was placed in Timâs lap.Â
Oh.
Okay, maybe he could somewhat forgive Dick for that. Danny turned to look at Dick, wincing when he saw the blue and purple hands. There were even little ice crystals on there. The entire room was tense, and there were tears in his eyes as he was trying to hold onto a smile.Â
âIâm sorry. I didnât know what you were doing,â Danny explained guiltily. âIâll fix it.âHe reached out, to try and draw the ice and cold back into him. He could do that.Â
Probably.Â
Thankfully it worked as Dickâs skin returned to normal.Â
âNote to self. Donât pick up the baby without getting his consent,â the blonde woman muttered.Â
âItâs alright, I know you didnât mean it. Iâll know better for next time,â Dick said. Danny wasnât sure if he really was forgiven. He cuddled closer to his brother. Dick pushed the chair in, so Danny and Tim were in the same seat.Â
***
When Tim had gone to sleep last night, heâd acknowledged that Danny, Damianâs biological little brother, was attached to him. It was becoming all the more clear how attached to Tim he was. The selfish part of him loved it. Heâd always wanted a little brother. When Damian had first arrived, heâd been so excited. That feeling had been killed quickly. Danny though. He trusted Tim, and no one else. Tim was the first person he looked to. Danny had tried to protect Tim, when Dick had come in unannounced the other day, using his powers to density shift both of them.Â
Tim felt sorry for Bruce, that there was another son that wasnât really accepting him. But he couldnât help feeling happy that Danny loved him and no one else. Heâd been jealous of the closeness between Dick and Damian. Now though. Now he had a chance to have that relationship with Danny.Â
A close brotherly relationship that heâd always wanted but hadnât really gotten with Dick, Damian, or Jason.
Jazz: Don't make that face at paying customers. Do you want to make a portal back home?
Danny rolling his eyes: Yes
Jazz: Then we need to get enough money to buy the parts. If that means waiting tables at a barely legal dinner, where idiots hit on us, then we wait those stupid tables. Now go over there and get the Waynes to leave us a 200 tip.
Danny: Fine, but only if you do too!
Jazz: *Tighten her apron straps into an hourglass figure* Way ahead of you.
Danny: *Rolling eyes but does the same*
Meanwhile with the Waynes
Bruce: It's so nice to go out to eat with you all
Alfred: Indeed. It's a nice change, don't you agree, children?
Wayne kids: *hyperventilating*
Bruce Not looking up from his phone: The Fenton siblings?
Alfred: Indeed, sir. It seems like Master Dick, Master Jason, and Miss Cass are going to attempt to speak to Ms. Fenton today. Master Tim, Master Damian, Master Duke, and Miss Steph don't seem mentally ready to look Mister Fenton in the eye. Bets?
Bruce: Dick chokes on his fork again. Tim face plants on the table, and Steph once again speaks in gibberish after forgetting the entire English language.
Nither Danny nor Jazz were big flirts, but they learned together that flirting and a bit of skin led to bigger tips.
Danny tucked in his shirt, rolled up his sleeves to expose his forearms, tousled his hair, dabbed a bit of clear lip gloss on his lips, and strutted towards the Waynes with a try full of waters held in one hand. People had types, and the Waynes all seemed to like subtle strength.
"What can I get you this morning?"
He flashes Tim a smile, who slumps behind the menu. Dick snickers at him, but his own ears go red when Jazz flicks her fingers at him in a hello from across the cafe.
"Pantoast," Steph says confidently.
"You got!" Danny pulls out his pen with a twirl and writes both pancakes and french toast on his pad. The Waynes can afford the extra plate, and a bigger bill means bigger tips. "Toppings?"
Danny scratches at his chest, feeling four set of eyes follow his fingers.
"Pecs, eh, pecans," Steph sputters. Danny graciously ignores the flob, even as Damian scoffs at her.
Steph's flusters are always cute.
"Blueberry pancakes for Damian?" Danny asks. It's not what Damian always orders, but its favorite and the youngest Wayne always seems to preen when Danny remembers.
Damian nods, and Danny goes around the table. Most of what they order is heavy on the protein, omelets and skillets and eggs benedict for Duke, with extra tomatoes. Alfred simply orders orange juice and a fruit cup.
Danny touches Tim's hand, just to watch him blush. "Gonna try decaf today?"
"N, no."
"Double latte it is then."
Danny knows they have shit coffee, but the machine latte is okay. Danny also knows the Waynes can afford much better. They're here for one, okay, two reasons only.
He delivers the food with a smile, leaning farther than needed over Tim's lap to place down Duke's plate. He bites his lip while doing so for Damian. Brushes fake crumbs off his chest for Steph as he double checks he hasn't missed something.
Bruce Wayne smiles into his mug of bad coffee.
It's all fun, teasing the Wayne kids. Danny enjoys the tips, the family enjoys poking fun at each other. And when they're dining, the other patrons behave better. Jazz gets less taps on her rear, Danny less pulls on his apron ties.
Jason tried once, to ask Jazz out. She pretended confusion, not recognizing it for what it was.
They can only tease and play, after all. They will be out of here as quick as they can be.
Jazz volunteers to take over the coffee pot for a refill to get in some face time, and Danny sees Tim elbow Jason and Steph waggle her eyebrows at Cass, who ignores it all as she watches Jazz pour coffee without a single drop.
In another life, in another dimension, maybe Danny would be more open to one of them making a move.
Instead, he rings up the order. $300 for brunch at a three star restaurant. The Waynes can eat. And drink. Drip coffee is 0.25 a refill, and Tim's three lattes add up too.
$60 for a 20% tip, a round hundred cuz they're Waynes, an extra fifty for the flirting. It's not much, but it'll do for a guy with no papers working under the table.
He places the check on the table near Bruce's hand. He doesn't rush them out, and any coffee refills Danny is willing to pay for with his tip. Tim's not on the edge anymore, he's traded spots with Duke, and Danny smiles at him.
"Good luck with midterms. They're coming up soon, yeah?"
"Yeah." He's not as shy and squirmy as the others, but his voice is so soft around Danny. He likes being seen.
"Tell me how they went next week."
He flutters his eyelashes just a bit. Holds his gaze as he picks up plates.
The Waynes will be back, and next week Jazz will take the table. Week after week after week. Until the Waynes get tired of their current status quo or Danny finishes the portal.
When the portal first turns on, all the lights in the apartment flicker. Later, they will cause the largest blackout in Gotham's recent history. For now, the momentary darkness is illuminated by a sputter of green. Danny's shitty miniature closet, now covered in metal gadgetry and wires, crackles with contained lightning. Their breaths catch.
And then - silence. The lightning zaps against metal. Green fades out, and the lights turn back on.
"No," Danny breathes out, stumbling into the portal as if to grasp the swirling ecto with his hands. He fails, same as when he'd tried to rip open a portal through his own powers, and his gloved fist slams against the metal as he lets out some truly vitriolic curses. Gotham had been educational in that regard.
For her part, Jazz's knees go limp and she slums to the floor. Her teeth bite into the meat of her cheek and she listens, mind blank, as Danny paces.
" - the safety switch is on, I'm not that dumb. Voltage was good - maybe the building cables are too old? How are we supposed to replace that?"
"It wasn't the cables," says Jazz, finding her voice calm. "We bypassed into the grid - "
"I guess we're going to have to change that back before we get found," Danny rubs a hand down his face and sprawls beside her, staring up at the portal's ceiling covering his closet. His voice is small as he admits, "I don't know how I fucked up."
He'd grown up so much this past year, his voice deepening and stubble needing to be shaved off with such frequency he'd spent a week preening about it. In the mirror he looked increasingly like their father, shoulders broad and strong. Jazz stretched out beside him and grabbed his hand, and together they numbly observed their hopes and dreams sputter around them.
"Do you think this is how mom and dad felt when their portal failed?" Jazz asks.
"Theirs didn't fail," said Danny. "The safety switch was turned off."
"Ambient ecto levels match Amity," said Jazz, forcing her brain to think mechanical analytics instead of psychoanalyzing herself and her brother, or worrying about going back to their boring, unfulfilling waiter jobs as they hustled for money.
At least they'd see the Wayne family again. Maybe if they were stuck here she'd flirt back for real.
"It's not enough," said Danny. "It was never enough to be a power source, that's why they blew out all the blocks. The calculations don't match - I know the blueprints of the portal and I know I matched it. Maybe they added an extra power source besides electricity?" He starts muttering calculations and possible fuel sources. Jazz tunes him out when he starts wondering where to get uranium.
A horrible thought had occurred to Jazz and she squeezed her little brother's cold hand tightly. It wasn't only ghosts who existed in the Infinite Realms, but they made up a majority of the creatures found. How did they get there? Ambient ecto, strong emotions -- that created shades, like the countless they'd encountered in Gotham. How did they cross over?
This dimension had been thrilling and concerning all at once. So many heroes, and so many insane villains to match, and aliens and gods and the safety of the planet got threatened every other week. At least it didn't fall to Danny to fix things, but. She's pretty sure at least some of those doomsday scenarios involved odd magics that sucked out the soul to power something else.
"Does death give off energy?"
Danny cut himself off and gave her a look. "Duh, ecto."
"There's the missing link," said Jazz. "It's gotta be, right?"
"What, death? I can't exactly build this on a graveyard. Can you imagine the headlines? Actually, can you imagine the bats?"
She sat up. "I mean. You."
"Me," said Danny. Then, "Oh." A nervous laugh escaped him, eyeing the portal in his closet the same way a mouse watched a feral cat. "You think. I created the portal?"
"You must have," said Jazz. The triumph of certainty forced her to stand up, pulling Danny up and clutching both his hands now. "That's the missing link. The extra energy!"
"And how is that going to help us?" Danny cried, giving their clutched hands an incredulous shake. "Do you want us to kill someone just to get back home?"
That snapped her triumph back to reality. She and Danny stared at each other. "And what if you're wrong?" Danny's eyes gleamed green around the edges. "We'd have just -- I refuse. I can't. And I can't exactly die a second time."
He paused. "I mean, I probably could, but - "
"No," said Jazz sharply. She was not as strong as Danny but he was unresisting as she hauled him out of the portal. His room was a mess of abandoned clothes around their packed belongings, strewn with metal parts and tools. They went to the very edge of the room, to the curtained window, and she spared a thought to hoping the green glow and flickering lights hadn't been spotted. The last thing they needed was the bats descending upon them now. Not when the portal was done. Not when they were so close.
"Maybe I'm wrong," said Jazz. Her body was between Danny and the portal, and it's gaping maw was not, objectively, hungry. It was just a trick of the mind. Her own racing heart acknowledging mortality. "And I mean, there's no guarantee it would work again the same way."
"It probably would," Danny muttered, looking out the window. "I did die again, before, when Sam - it worked again. And there's Vlad."
"Okay," said Jazz. "Okay. We can - "
"We won't," said Danny, sharply.
"Of course we won't," said Jazz. "But if we don't, then - "
"We could ask the Justice League for help ," said Danny without much enthusiasm. They shared a mutual grimace. "Like, 50-50 odds they do help us out. Batman isn't as much of a creepy fuck as he seemed at first. And Superman is downright cool! And an alien! They got to understand wanting to return home."
"And what are they going to do?" Jazz crossed her arms. "Stop saving the planet from Darkland - "
"Darkseid - " Danny corrected.
" - Just to help out two random people who can't even prove they're from another dimension punch a hole in reality? I refuse to be to be stuck here labeled as a supervillain just because there are actual curses on this horrible city with fantastic welfare resources that makes everyone with ambition go evil!"
"Shh," said Danny. He pushed the curtains to more fully cover the window. "Don't tempt fate. Or the bats. Or like, Justice League Dark."
Silence filled the apartment. "It's not the worst thing," said Jazz. "Being stuck here."
"Bats haven't yet figured out it's me doing lowdown vigilanteism," said Danny, without enthusiasm.
"You can get your GED!"
"I think American History is different here and I'll fail miserably."
"You can study for your GED," said Jazz, pointedly. "And me too. And Gotham U has pretty good scholarships."
"I bet we can seduce the Wayne's into paying tuition."
That made Jazz laugh. "We could. I think they've offered it, actually." She'd pretended at ignorance the first time, then demurred the next. They hadn't offered thrice, but it was only a matter of time.
"I can convince them to give me a job at Wayne Tech," said Danny. "Behold: I build portals that don't work."
She elbowed him lightly. "No guys in white to hunt you down."
"No crazy ghost hunting parents," said Danny, but his voice wavered.
"Yeah," said Jazz. She turned back to the dark, silent portal and bit her lip. "No parents."
"No friends."
"We haven't been very friendly."
"I miss them," Danny's voice cracked. "I miss them so bad. I want to go home!"
Even though he was taller than her now - an absolute travesty of genetics - he burrowed his face in her shoulder as they hugged. "We will," she murmured fervently. Maybe there was truth to the curses driving people evil here, because an insane idea took root in her mind. "We will. I promise." She hugged her little brother tighter.
When they separated and she calmly walked into the portal, Danny said, "What are you doing?"
"Turning the safety switch off," said Jazz, doing just that. It was a small thing, nothing like the original portal. Danny kept all the cables securely tied to the sides. After the accident he'd always been careful about lab safety protocols.
Accident. She can't call it that anymore.
"That's probably smart," said Danny. He rubbed his fist over his wet eyes. "I'll just. Unlatch from the power grid before someone realizes what we did."
"Okay," said Jazz. Her fingers were tight against the switch. "Hey Danny?"
"What?"
"I love you."
"Jazz? Jazz!"
The portal switched on. The swirl of green caught her abdomen, turning her entire body weightless. Then, the next second, while her senses struggled to reorient and her stomach realized it abruptly did not exist - displaced, moved into another dimension, ecto filling her senses like she could taste the color green - the electricity hit.
When she comes to, Danny is hunched over her. Her ears keep ringing long enough for him to start crying, and Jazz lifts a tired, heavy arm to wipe his tears away only for her hand to pass through his flesh. Her skin was blue, tinged green from the light of the portal behind them. He'd pulled her out of there. He'd pulled her out of the portal.
"It worked," said Jazz, her voice hoarse and barely a whisper. "It worked!"
"You fucking idiot!" cried Danny, dripping snot at tears all over her. "You - you - "
Jazz's tired hand falls to the ground. She can't feel her heartbeat. Her entire body aches, nerves dull and firing at the same time. A faint scent of pork mixed into the ecto in the air like an army of ecto-weenies marching out of their fridge. Maybe she'd gone full ghost and her body was still in the portal, eternally suspended in the ecto with electricity running through it's veins: the conduit. The missing link.
Was it like this when her little brother had died?
"We can go home," she told Danny. It was what mattered now. He'd have to carry her body into the portal, but by all the Ancients, they could go home.
"You died!"
"So did you!" Jazz forced her upper body upright. "Come on, Danny." If she was a ghost, why did her limbs have to ache so much? "Hey, how do you 'go human'?" A nervous laugh of pure hysteria escaped her. "I mean, I should probably check - "
Danny sucked in a large, desperate breath. Then he cracked again. Jazz ached to comfort him. She focused on the humanity of him - slipping back to life, her heart beating in her chest, the exhaustion in every one of her muscles -
The window shattered. Her elbows slipped and cracked into the floor, through the floor, and half her body followed until Danny's arms hauled her back up and pressed her to his chest. Past his shoulder she could barely see the dark shadow of one of the local bats, illuminated by the green portal light because every other light was dark. Could barely hear those affected gravely voices say, "Holy shit --? Danny? Jazz?"
"Don't come closer!" ordered Danny through the snot and tears, hauling her further upright and ready to bolt.
The sudden movement reminded her of her stomach that didn't exist anymore. Her body fought between passing out and throwing up.
And it was that: the darkness tinging her vision that forced her out of it, less a gentle slide into being alive and more like tumbling down a slope. Gravity slammed into her and forced her back down, her hair turning red again, skin going from hypothermic to pale.
"Fuck yeah, I'm not dead," wheezed Jazz, newly human and alive again, and then threw up at the mouth of the portal her death created.
"Okay," said Steph, pulling her cowl off and sprawling back on the debrief room couches. "Who bet for 'interdimensional beings'?"
"I said aliens," said Dick, through the comms. He was back in his Bludhaven apartment and, by the sound of it, burning pancakes at 3 am. "I think I ought to get at least some of the pool - "
"Perfect guess or bust," retorted Steph and Tim simultaneously.
"There's a death portal," said Jason, his voice crackling over the comms. "I get brownie points."
"Before or after you failed at asking Jazz Fenton out for the third time?" Steph shot back.
Jason scoffed. "Like you had any more luck? At least I got the fucking words out."
"I was working myself up to it!"
"We'd all be in the geriatric ward by the time you accomplished anything," said Damian.
Steph flopped her hand at him. "Shut up, puppy crush."
Damian scowled at her. His hair was sticking up hilariously, so Tim discretely angled a camera at him to snap a picture. Bruce caught him, but was a mark of the many screaming fights and occasional crying sessions this family had that Bruce only twitched at this rather than retreating to the rafters to brood over his many kids whilst they pretended to not have stabbed each other, repeatedly, in places that hurt. Tim sipped his coffee and turned back to monitoring the multiple cameras they had set up.
The one outside Danny and Jazz's room crackled with erratic static. It was actually an infirmary, in Leslie's clinic, because that was as close to medical care as a Danny's paranoid snarling had allowed them to provide for Jazz, who kept alarmingly sinking through solid objects and passing out and twitching from electrical burns. It said something that Danny's glowing green eyes and sharp canines did not make him less attractive, but Tim was nothing if not a champion of assessing his own mental state and moving the fuck on. After growing up surrounded by aliens and demigods and ghosts, a little inhuman snarl putting him off would be insulting to his friends and various previous paramours at this point.
Which meant: "I win," said Tim. "I did put down 'another dimension'."
"The fuck you did," said Steph, finally pulling out her phone to find the betting pool.
Tim swiveled his chair around dramatically to find his entire family scowling at him. He crossed one leg over the other and lounged back. "My evidence: their knowledge of history and pop culture is inconsistent, occasionally wrong, and if you trace the camera static that follows them long enough you find their early attempts at learning more about our dimension through library visits and setting up their false identities." How exactly that had been accomplished was still to be determined. Tim's bet was 'mind control' or 'magic' or 'both'. 'Both' was usually a fair guess.
"That fits for savvy aliens too," protested Dick, followed by the sound of his fire alarm turning on.
Duke lifted his head from a pillow to mute Dick's comms. Then he put it back down, huffed, and said, "Now that we aren't in crisis mode, I also win because they are, in fact, meta humans."
"No they aren't," said Jason. "Have you all forgotten the interdimensional death portal? It's right there. If they have the meta gene and aren't some fucked up pit demons I'll pay for the shitting betting pool."
"You're the one who volunteered to watch it," said Steph, throwing her phone down the couch, which meant she did not want to announce her loss. "Cass, just muffle him if he's going to freak out over the interdimensional death portal."
"I think he should get a pass for that one," said Duke. "I think we should all freak out over the interdimensional death portal."
"We are," Steph assured him. "In like, one business day."
Bruce let out a disapproving grunt.
"Don't take that tone with me," said Steph. "We were all understandably panicked about Jazz nearly dying and turning purple - "
"I thought she looked more blue, actually," said Tim.
"- and Danny pulling out the usual glowing green eyes of doom and anger and Jason having a freak out over a pit portal - "
"Fuck you," said Jason.
"So B, you can handle the usual logistics freak out, and I am going to just be happy we managed to get them medical attention for now and Jazz is not actively dying anymore."
"Already dead," said Cass, quietly, over the comms. "Danny too."
"That's a two business day's from now type problem," said Steph, but her expression was as grim as the rest of them.
"Is it though?"
"We have programs for this," said Bruce, broodingly.
"We know, B."
"They did not need to make a hole in the fabric of reality," continued Bruce, even more broodingly.
"B, all your wellfare programs and 'beings stuck on Earth get home' initiatives with the JL don't mean shit if people who need them don't know about it."
"They do know about it," said Bruce, downright morose. "It's always filled with prank calls."
Damian perched besides his father and tentatively patted his back. Tim snapped another picture and sent it to the Young Justice group chat captioned 'murder gremlin attempts to comfort progenitor, exhibit D'.
"Maybe they did send in an application," said Barbara over the comms. Her voice was filled with extreme exhaustion; like Tim she was pushing twenty-six hours of being awake. She was just worse at hiding it than he was because she did not drink her bodyweight in caffeine. "Maybe it just got mistaken for a prank."
"Or lost in the queue," said Tim. At any given moment on Earth there were at least three wayward aliens, one time traveler, and two beings from not quite this dimension looking to go home. The aliens were usually the easiest of the lot to fix, the time travelers were a hit or miss depending on whether their version of this reality still existed, and the interdimensional beings were often a JLD problem.
Which meant --
"'The ripples of dimensional weakness have been felt and must be investigated'," said Bruce, obviously quoting someone and hating every word. Steph started muttering under her breath 'please be Zatanna, please be Zatanna, please be Zatanna - '
"Constantine is coming," declared Bruce, with all the drama he denied possessing.
Danny's found a way to dodge GIW trackers, as well as his parents.
Their equipment hunts ghosts, ghosts run on emotion; so as long as he keeps his under a tight lid and doesn't feel anything ever, they won't be able to track him.
It works!
He's able to run from them, and goes as far as New Jersey. The plan was to stow away on a ship, and go to literally any country that wasn't America. He goes to Gotham, which hosts the one harbor he knows where no one will ask any questions.
But because of how weird he acted (completely emotionless during a Joker attack), he was fingered by police immediately.
He's handed over to CPP. CPP doesn't know what to do with a teen literally so traumatized that they don't show any emotion at all, ever. He keeps just...walking out of his placements. Just leaves without a sound.
Luckily, he's always caught, due to those placement houses having quiet alarms and him refusing to run.
They call the one foster parent they know who does.
Bruce Wayne takes in the strange, nameless kid who refuses to talk.
On paper, they gave him the filler name of 'John Doe', for lack of anything better to do.
Bruce does everything he can to make the newest arrival feel at home. Damian, for as territorial as he is, actually breaks out of his shell sooner than expected just to try to get the new kid to speak. To emote. To do something. Duke tries the open approach, then tries the 'no one will ever know, everyone thinks I'm an innocent goody-two-shoes' approach. Nada.
Tim even tries to trick him into talking, but nothing works.
Enter Dick; Dick heard about Bruce's new ward, about the situation, and decided to see if he could get the kid to open up.
Danny though. Danny's in trouble.
The Wayne Manor is weirdly secure, and he can't just walk away like he did his other placements. He can't use ghost powers or the GIW and his parents will immediately know where he is.
He really, really wants to take Bruce up on his offer and just spend the day relaxing. Respond to Damian's attempts to provoke him. Overshare about space facts with Tim.
But most of all, he really, desperately wants to get in a Pun Competition with Dick. He wants to laugh at Dick's jokes, and learn coolass gymnastic tricks!
But he can't!
If he relaxes with Bruce, he'll be content, which is an emotion. If he argues with Damian, he'll get annoyed, which is an emotion. If he sneaks out with Duke and breaks the rules, he'll get happy, which, again, emotion. If he overshares with Tim, he'll get excited, which is, yet again, an emotion!
The worst sin of all, he can't even show proper appreciation of the food the Butler keeps making him!
And now there's even more people coming over!
There's a quiet girl who keeps reading his body language and trying to get him to dance ballet, a blonde girl who keeps trying to kidnap him to take him to BatBurger, a guy with a stripe of white who wants to take him to a shooting range, and it just...he really, really wants to!
The Waynes are a multi-millionaire family who own an international companyâŠ.
Now imagine that for some reason a member of the family has a mandatory trip abroad (check some offices, go to a gala, investigate something like civilians, etc.) and you decide that perhaps a tourist trip with new experiences can help your family. new brother, so they take himâŠ
Danny doesn't know where they are going, only that they leave on a private jetâŠ.
Now imagine the bats that accompany him seeing how an emotional switch turns on in his little brother the moment he knows they are in another countryâŠ
They test this theory out a few times. Like any respectable bat, they can't go off the statistics of just a one time thing.
...
Tim has the brilliant idea of pushing and pulling Danny in and out of the American border. Danny's emotions turn on and off like a fucking light switch and Tim feels vindicated. He TOLD the others it would work.
-
Alternatively, meta collars block the ghost signals. Doesn't affect danny negatively but like maybe limits his powers a bit. The Wayne's figure this out. Somehow.
One of the bats had the theory that the lack of emotion came from a meta-gene activating during the Joker attack and decided to try the meta collars (All the lab results were inconclusive so who's to say that isn't a probability?), just in case, they needed to try everything.
Danny feels like he's ecto-signal is being blocked by the meta collar and risks letting go of his emotions, just a bit, to test it's limits, but the collar doesn't block much, and is easier to just don't feel at all than trying to control how much he feels. So the bats get to see Danny's face gain some emotion (nervousness? Anxiety? Hope? Fear?) for a fraction of a second before he goes completely emotionless once more.
- Theory one: The meta-collar isn't strong enough somehow, let's try with one more powerful. -> Danny doesn't want to risk it again, so he stays emotionless.
- Theory two: Since Danny doesn't react with stronger meta-blockers, then something about the meta-collar gave Danny an emotion strong enough to come through for a second. Maybe it brought memories of something... something before the Joker attack? Was... Was Danny a victim of meta trafficking? Did they just re-traumatize their new little brother multiple times?
Duke feels especially guilty about this because as a meta, "he should have known better". The bats are not as eager to keep experimenting after that, but Danny continues to be emotionless, so eventually they have to try something else, right?
Thereâs a plate in front of him that he didnât put there. Itâs good foodâeggs and pre-cut slices of ham and, ugh, toastâ
Danny clamps down on his automatic reaction. Nope. Suppress it. Toast isâfine. He canât afford to hate it right now. It's fine. He'll choke it down.
He canât afford to feel anythingâ Not anymore.
The chair across from him scrapes against the hardwood floor. Someoneâs joined him at the table for early breakfast. âMorning, John!â they greets him cheerily. Danny refuses to look up.
âŠHe think the voice is probably Dukeâs. Dannyâs been trying to resist the urge to get to know anyone, but, wellâŠfamiliarity with the foster family comes whether he wants it to or not.
Itâs whatever. It is what it is.
Duke makes one-sided conversation about his plans at school and his friend group heâs headed out with later. Danny refuses to listen. If he listens, heâll miss doing the same with his own friends. If he listens, heâll want to ask if he can come too, just to break the monotony inside his head.
And he canât.
So he just. Pushes food around with the silverware. Occasionally takes a bite.
Chews.
Swallows.
The next person to break through Dannyâs carefully cultivated lack of awareness is the smallest foster sibling. Damian. He walks through every interaction as if heâs the Gotham Royal his father pretends to be, and always ends up reclining at the table with a cloth napkin in his lap and impeccable posture. Meanwhile, Dannyâs seen his foster father pick chips off his shirt and eat them during required movie nights.
âDoe,â Damian greets Danny. Danny doesnât respond. âThomas, has Doe eaten an appropriate portion of breakfast yet?â
âAsk him, man,â Duke lobs back lazily. Damian glares. âSay, John, have you tried the pool yet? Itâs going to be summer soon; itâll be something to do that wonât have you fried up like an apple fritter.â
âWe will not be joining you at the pool, Thomas. I have enlisted Doe in the morning feeding routine for the barnâs occupants. We are otherwise engaged for the morning.â
âOh, those were your plans? Glad to know your afternoonâs free, then. Iâll tell Alfred to have your bathing suits ready at two.â
The kidâs glare is potent enough that if he was a ghost, Danny is certain he would have already fried off most of Dukeâs hair with his eye lasers.
They argue (or, well, Damian argues) about what Danny is meant to do today, but Danny has no intention of providing input. Bruce told Damian that animal therapy might be beneficial for his deeply traumatized foster sibling, and, wellâŠwho is Danny to say otherwise?
âŠNot that Danny is traumatized. This is on purpose, so itâs not trauma. Itâs just. What it is.
His fingers twitch. Danny specifically does not see when both of the other table occupants move their focus entirely to him in the hopes that Danny might have another reaction.
He doesnât. He stops eating.
Someone comes up against his side. âA jacket, Master John? The report indicted that the weather is still rather chilly this morning.â
His arm is half-slid into a sleeve. Oh. Right. Danny shrugs the rest of the jacket onâand then has to suppress the urge to be grateful that everyone is doing their best to take good care of him.
He goes limp.
Alfred is too familiar with Dannyâs tendencies to make a fuss. Damian takes Dannyâs limp hand, orders Alfred to prepare lunch for their return, and trots them both out of the house towards the barn.
Danny lets himself pet the animals for exactly how long it takes to threaten to improve his mood.
He gives up on the activity right on the cusp of something that should have been contentment.
*
âIs it safe to take John out of the country?â Dick asks, perplexed. âBarring the fact that heâs still a foster, and Iâm pretty sure that itâs illegal to cross the borders with himâŠâ
Bruce sighs, and crosses his legs underneath his desk. âThereâs nothing for it. Thereâs been a direct, public threat against the manor, and everyoneâs safety is at riskâespecially Johnâs, considering that heâs unable to defend himself. The best solution is to take the jet, publicly and visibly visit a nice resort overseas, and wait for the whole affair to blow over.â
âŠDick chews on his lip. He fights the urge to pace; half the items in the office are antiques, and if he gets too heated in the momentâŠwellâŠheâd been at risk for knocking items off of cluttered shelves before. âAlfred will be stuck here, though. Wonât that destabilize Johnâs routine? Thereâll be a lot of novel stimulus, and we donât want him to shut down the way heâŠâ
The way he had been when John had arrived, Dick is careful not to say. The micro-expressions and placidity John displays now are leagues ahead of the unsettling blankness, lack of engagement, and constant attempts at elopement. The only conclusion that they can draw is that John is, if not happy and content, comfortable in the here and now.
Which means that disrupting that here and now might have long-term detriments for their teenage foster.
âNo choice,â Bruce decides, which. Dick doesnât know what heâd expected. Batman would never pick someoneâs mental health over his expectation of their operative safety. âItâll be your vacation, plus whoever you think will be available to be taken out of the public eye. Tim will be sheltering with me to maintain his work schedule, and Cass has already elected to visit Hong Kong for the remainder of the year. Pick a resort and get back to me. You leave tomorrow night.â
Dickâs salute is as sarcastic as he is bitter.
So. He packs for his upcomingâŠvacation. And he asks Alfred to pack a bag for John for a week.
And he hopes this wonât be yet another setback for John Doe, who didnât deserve being subjected to Batmanâs whims any more than any of Bruceâs other children.
But he sighs. And Dick packs.
*
Dannyâs on a plane and he doesnât know why.
Damian and Duke and Stephanie are all here, but not Tim, and not Cass? And not Jay? And Dick isâŠsomewhere here? He thinks?
Thereâs cards. There are even cards in a little pile for Danny, even though he isnât super sure what theyâre playing. He points at one when prompted and tries to zone out for the rest of it.
The urge to have play along and fun is so strong. The world is surging in motion outside of their plane, and theyâre cozy inside, with soda cans and cards and chatter and laughter, andâŠ
Danny goes to sit at the back of the plane. Thereâs nowhere to hide from his longing. Thereâs nowhere to hide from his misery.
So he just. Hides.
He curls up his legs, puts his head in his knees, and waits for the ride to be over
âŠThatâs enough.
*
Dick gets off the plane first, and helps everyone else get down. Dannyâs not really afraid of either heights nor falling, so he doesnât let Dick touch his arm the way he touches everyone elseâs.
Dickâs nice, and that's the entire problem at hand.
Still, the man lets him goâand smiles, and gestures out with a hand. âAlright, everyone; this is nicest spot in the Caribbean, apparently. Welcome to Necker island!â
Damian grumbles, as heâs wont to, although Duke and Steph look suitably impressed by the greenery, andâŠ
âŠSomething in Danny unfolds. Wait. Are theyâŠoutside the US?
For one, Dannyâs pretty sure thatâs illegal. Isn't he a foster?? Holy shit.
On the other hand⊠Danny takes in more of the scenery, glancing around at lush green foliage and blue waters. HeâsâŠtheyâve got their own government, right? They probably wouldnât have any ties to the Guys in White.
So. So maybe. Maybe DannyâsâŠsafe, here.
(Heâs almost too afraid to believe it.)
(Or. Maybe he is too afraid to believe it.)
They meander down the tarmac until they make it to a golf cart; Dick loads up their suitcases and makes chatty conversation with the driver as Duke and Stephanie haul themselves on board.
Damian does his level best to drag a stunned Danny up into the cart and onto a seat. Still. Dannyâs a bit too perplexed. Is he safe? Is the Caribbean far enough away from the people hunting him down?
Something gets shoved into his hand. Danny looks down.
âŠIs that a pineapple?
Anyway. Rich people are whack. Vlad might have Fuck You money, but the Waynes have Fuck You and Your Whole Neighborhood money, since it can apparently let them buy out the whole island and their staff and meals and the beach and everything else for two straight weeks.
Two straight weeks.
And. Somehow. Danny hasâŠa bathing suitâŠ?
He definitely spends like twenty minutes staring at it. Itâs no one elseâsâno one else wears a Menâs Small, as far as he can tell. Not even Damian. Itâs in white and red, like his favorite NASA tee. Just. Who bought this for him? Who knows what size he is??
âNeed any help changing?â Duke finally asks, baffled by Dannyâs bafflement, and Danny is startled all over again by the pure concept of feeling bafflement.
What a headrush. Fuck; acclimating back to the states is going to be horrible, he can already tell.
So Danny just. Goes into the bathroom. Puts on the bathing shorts.
Stares at himself in the mirror.
âŠPuts his NASA shirt back on, because looking at the Lichtenburg lines trailing across his chest makes him nauseous.
Danny takes a deep breath in. A deep breath out.
He feelsâŠnervous. Scared. Happy. Excited for vacation. He hasnât been excited for vacation since he was seven, he thinks. Where had they gone? Chicago? A conference?
Danny pushes himself out the bathroom. Heâs scared out of his wits. Heâs tired from the flight. Heâs nervous to interact with people without his self-imposed emotional barrier.
And heâs so, so relieved, that he doesnât have to shove it down before he feels it.
Duke and Stephanie are already in their swimsuits at the door, teasing Damian for his full-body suit and swim shoes combo that he insists is âtactically soundâ.
Dick taps Dannyâs arm. âAre you ready to go?â he asks, cheery as ever.
Danny, carefully, nods. Itâs the first intentional gesture heâs done for anything non-vital.
Dick beams.Â
The giant luxury house locks behind them. Steph hauls the towels, Dick hauls a picnic basket, and Damian insists on both the umbrella and Dannyâs hand.
They go down to the beach. It is a brilliant, blue afternoon.
*
Duke collapses on the towel next to Dick, which is. Fair.
âThose two give you the runaround, huh?â Dick asks knowingly. He'd watched Marco Polo slowly turn into a death match just off the island shoreline. The exhaustion is warranted. Damian, who had insisted on the wet uniform heâd worn in the League, and Steph, who would only let a twelve-year-old defeat her if she was dead, make, uhâŠformidable opponents.
Duke groans into the towel. Fair. More than fair.
Dick lets the air cool him off, perfectly happy in his place under the dying light of the beach sunset, the virgin piña heâd ordered, and some sappy beach romance heâd found on Bruceâs Kindle account. Itâs been pretty interesting so far, which means that it was probably one of Selinaâs purchases back when they were dating.
Well. Not the first time they were dating. Maybe the. Third? Wait, which time had she moved in again??
âDick.â Duke mumbles into the towel. âDick. What the hell. Why am I exhausted.â
âLow stamina,â Dick identifies correctly. He takes another sip of his smoothie, and watches Steph bodily grab Damian in the hopes of chucking him further into the sea. âGet in more cave laps and practice your endurance when we get back."
Duke grooooans, which is the luxury of being young. When you start hitting your thirties, everyone acts like a complaint about your bad shoulder is a sign you ought to think about retiring your uniform.
Dick sits, and listens to the dulcet tones of children fighting and the roar of the ocean. Still, someone has to keep an eye on John, so he resists the urge to take a nap.
John, waist deep in the water, watches the sun slowly hit the horizon.
âŠIt is a peaceful sight, if a kind of unusual way for the kid to behave. The ocean doesnât allow for a lot of options for elopement, though, so maybe the behavior is an adaptation to his current environment.
âJohn made an expression in the house before.â Dukeâs statement comes apropos of seemingly nothing. Dick looks down from his chair to see Duke watching him watch his foster brother. âHe didnât seem to understand why he had a bathing suit. So. You know. Stuff is firing on at least some cylinders.â
âŠHuh. Dick sips more overpriced smoothie. It may be the best thing heâs ever tasted. There have been other micro-expressions before from their enigmatic John Doeâbrief moments of lucidity in the occasional odd momentâbut full on confusion? Really?
âWe should break him out of his routine more often, then,â Dick admits. Fine. This time Bruce got lucky, and no one died or wanted to kill each other, and John didnât immediately shut down upon yet another change in scenery. This is a success. Maybe, next time, he can get Tim and Jason to ditch work and join in.
Heâs sure that forcibly dragging Cass to an island for family vacation wouldnât work per se, but maybe, if Dick gets Tim to bring in Lady Shiva in town for another brief tĂȘte-Ă -tĂȘteâŠ
âŠMan, Dickâs really desperate for family time if heâs thinking about bringing in Lady Shiva into his plans. The second piña he orders should probably have rum in it.
So Dick watches Steph and Damian practice breath-holding exercises (carefully not retraumatizing each other by pinning the other down underwater), content with the new chill in the breeze and the spotty pinks making their debut on the horizon. Theyâll have maybe another hour outside before needing to towel off and find an outdoor shower.
Duke rolls over, taking in the last of the sunlight.
âAnd then the kid bolts upright. âDick!â Duke hisses, eyes on the shore in front of them. Dick snaps to attention. âHoly shitâlook at him!â
Dick quickly scans the scene. Nothing wrong with Steph. Nothing wrong with Damian. Johnâ
âJohn looks like some marine thing risen above pink-tinged waves, copper-green fire freckles glowing across his cheeks and exposed arms like drops of liquid flames. Thereâs something in the hot vestiges of sunset that makes his hair look white where the light hits it, and John looks brightâtoo bright, as if thereâs no shadow being cast beside him.
He looks see-through. He looks like frosted sea glass against the surf.
But John looksâŠhappy. JustâŠhappy to see the sunset. Happy to listen to the sea-birds and Steph and Damianâs squabbling and to run his fingers through the waist-high waves, barely buffeted even when the waves break against his chest or pull the water back down to his hips.
âHoly shit,â Duke admires.
Dick can barely breathe. âHoly shit is right.â
ââŠSo now we get to ask why heâs so comfortable here, as opposed to the manor,â Duke rationalizes, and, augh, heâs right. Dickâs not looking forward to that. Still, they have two weeks to try and untangle the knot of mysteries around their John Doe, and more than enough resources to do it with.
Dick slurps the last of his smoothie down and sets it aside. âText the staff line and tell them that weâre upgrading to a completely hands-off experience, please. No staff are to be around except for scheduled cleanings and laundry service, and the occasional meal and restaurant visit.â
Duke holds his hand out for Dickâs phone, which, fair. Dick supervises the text, and his foster brother shoots it off into the atmosphere when prompted. And Duke gets up, brushes the sand off his shorts, and darts back off to the shorelineâalready glowing faintly in the fading light.
Dick snorts with a smile.
John, at least, takes to Dukeâs suddenly-brightly-lit appearance with little more than clear surprise. Duke hops under the water, his light giving away a clear locationâand swims around John once or twice before John carefully lowers himself in after him.
There is, thankfully, no need to play lifeguard for his siblings. Dick watches them anyway. John takes to the water with a sort of placid playfulness, and Duke follows his lead; as soon as Damian notices that John is actually paying Duke real attention, swimming becomes a real free-for-all.
The sun tucks itself away until the sky is red and weeping. Dick will call them all into dinner for a minute. For now, though, he watches his sibling get along, and he wishes it could be this easy for them forever.
It won't be. But for now, Dick can appreciate his vacation.
Why the hell would Danny allow them to take him back to the US? If he actually is safe when heâs out and away, heâd be literally fighting for his life to stay
And all heâd have to do is tell them the States are dangerous for him
So clearly itâs angst time đ
**
Danny felt the pit falling out of his stomach, a dread he still habitually almost squashed. Maybe he should squash this one.
Two weeks hadnât been enough to fully break through the walls heâd built up, to get him used to feeling anything at all again, but heâd almost been feeling human. Almost been feeling like a person.
And then, just to be sure (because obviously he was working up to how to explain to his new foster âfamilyâ that he just. Couldnât go back to America with them. Heâd even dared hope that since they cared so much⊠theyâd let him without question)⊠heâd looked up extradition treaties.
Of course the US had an extradition treaty with Bermuda, Antigua, every bloody island government he could have been hiding out with. Of course the GIW could still get him.
All he could do was hope that the sheer distance, the unlikeliness of them having global scans out just for him rather than focusing on the States, had meant they hadnât triangulated him yet. That he hadnât accidentally outed himself by just daring to feel, for once.
The disappointment on his siblingsâ faces when he came down for dinner his blank and emotionless self would have hurt, if he let himself feel anything.
Heâd dared to smile at them these last few days, dared to offer more than just a few words to conversation. Dared to greet them with a nod or a wave.
No more of that now.
Although⊠it was the Waynes. There was, just maybe, the smallest possible chance that theyâd let him choose the next vacation. And they were still far enough from the mainland US.
Dick could be, well, a dick when he wanted to, but he was the oldest. Indisputably in charge of this excursion and the responsible one even if it was largely against his will.
So once the concerned flapping and attempts to coax him to do more than blink had finally subsided in the rush to pack the car, Danny stole off to one side and took Dick with him, by dint of a simple brush on the back of his wrist.
(Ancients, they were so kind. So considerate, so caring⊠why did he only have this when he couldnât let any of it matter?)
He didnât even want to risk the words, to risk how his voice would break and heart would ache to speak it. So he typed out the words, turned them towards Dick, watched his eyes widen and hope relight his face as he read.
âCan I pick the next vacation spotâ
Of course, Dick immediately began assuring Danny a hundred ways that they could totally stay on the island longer, theyâd buy it out for the rest of the month, the year if he didnât want to return to Gotham that badly, but that wouldnât work.
Danny knew about the extradition treaty now. The island, which had seemed like a paradise⊠wasnât.
But Dick had already been so enthusiastic.
So he chanced a shake of his head, raised the phone again, even pointed to ânextâ. And Dick fell over himself promising to take Danny wherever the hell he wanted to, on Earth or off it.
(and. That. That nearly broke him. He knew the Waynes were richer than any six gods you cared to name, but Dick offering to fly him to space? How could that be a real offer?
But Dick looked so completely certain. So sincere.)
Clamping down firmly on the nugget of hope, Danny left as quickly as possible so Dick couldnât wear him down. The guy had already begun to suspect Danny actually did like his puns, and since the very first time heâd let his lips twitch in a smileâŠ
He thought Dick made a lot of puns before, but if Damian was to be believed thereâd been a defined exponential growth in the number heâd been making every day since.
Danny couldnât risk enjoying himself. He had a lot of research to do on extradition treaties with the US.
I would like to point out, there's no way the Bats aren't hyper-vigilantly monitoring Danny. For even the tiniest clues of what he might want or need or like. So there's no way they don't notice the research Danny is suddenly doing. And it's probably not enough to actually answer even one of their questions about John Doe. But it's a lead. Their first genuine lead.
Of course, now they have to wonder; what did John do (or think he did) that he needs (or think he needs) to flee the States?
Dick, Duke, Damian, and Stephanie are going to debrief everyone on what happened on the island.
But, before that, everyone who wasn't on the island is going to panic, when they come back and it seems Danny regressed. Especially Bruce. He's kicking himself that his new kid, 'John', is no longer even doing micro expressions!
When they do do the debrief, they get questioned why they didn't just text anyone and stay longer? The four deadpan at the others, then say it's because they knew the others would come to the island and overwhelm the boy when he was just getting out of his shell.
Duke brings up that when John showed emotions his powers reacted. John wasn't afraid of his own powers, nor was he afraid to use them around the Wayne's. But he was afraid to use them in Gotham.
Dick brings up Danny's research of the US territories. When he found out the island was a territory, he stopped showing as much emotion. So maybe he's afraid to use his powers in the US in general?
Tim blurts out that maybe John's powers are traceable and that's why he hides his emotions. If he is a trafficking victim, knows that he's still being hunted after escaping, then maybe John is more afraid of these traffickers than he feels safe in the Manor? He doesn't trust that the Wayne's are able to protect him.
Damian brings up that John's powers being activated felt like the Lazarus Pits. Everyone goes stock still.
Duke brings up that John's eyes has glowed green when he was showing emotions. So Damian continues on that line of thinking. John has scars all over his torso that looks like Lichtenburg scars. Which wouldn't make sense cause those are supposed to fade away after a while.
If you survive.
Which brings up that he must have been thrown into a Pit or was given the water. Ra's wouldn't have done this, unless John had been an amazing assassin or something. So, they either have an enemy in their home, or someone else found a Pit and used John as an experiment. đ§Ș
I did, like, five minutes of research into this, but lets GO!
---
Danny was on a plane. Another plane. This time to a country he got to pick.
Kind of.
Most of the countries with non-extradition treaties to the US had their own issues. Countries like North Korea were an absolute no. Jason had looked horrified at the mention of Ethiopia, so Danny tossed out most of Africa just to be safe. The Middle East also seemed to have everyone worried, even as Damian was from there?
If Danny could emote, he'd have sighed in relief when Cass had mentioned Hong Kong. The family had a rather large penthouse there, as it was one of the major hubs for the various Wayne Enterprise and subsidiaries. Tim and Bruce agreed that an in-person walkthrough would probably be well overdo.
There was then some sort of side organization going on as the rest of the extended family seemed to decide who was going, though Danny hadn't even had to ask. Alfred was already helping prepare Danny's suitcase.
Danny also asked about his passport. He somehow had one with the John Doe name, which, huh. The Waynes must have pulled some strings being Richer than Six Gods.
Anyway, Danny was in the air on the Wayne Enterprise jet towards the back once more. The ride was long - nearly sixteen hours in the air, direct - so everyone was in various states of activity as they reached the mid-way point.
Cass, obviously, with the most knowledge of Hong Kong was along for the ride. She was in the front of the craft with Jason and Dick, who were all huddled around a table - because this jet was so big and spacious that it had tables, benches, and full lay down beds for the occupants - and were seemingly playing Poker.
Tim was a little farther back and in his own table section, typing away at his computer like a mad man. He'd seemingly clonked out for all of twenty minutes about an hour prior before shooting up, looking like he'd suddenly cracked a major code, and now was on his computer chatting with Barbara over something Danny couldn't quite make out unless he wanted to use some of his ghost powers or move closer, neither which felt right.
Damian and Duke had claimed two of the laydown chairs after playing some racing game on Duke's Switch, and both seemed to be passed out. Bruce was the closest to Danny in one of the more normal seats that could be converted to a bed across the aisle from the teen, the reading light above him on as he wore a pair of spectacles, seemingly perusing something on the tablet he held.
Danny had been mostly staring out the window the whole flight, bouncing back and forth between observation, listening to whoever tried to engage him (he'd been pulled up to the table to eat and play Uno at some point, though he'd only eaten the food and watched, and Duke had sat next to him for a good portion of the early flight so they would watch a movie - the movie was atrocious in that way a bad movie could swing around to being hilarious, but Danny had held in his laughter even as Duke was snorting and pointing out all the plot holes), or looking down at the tablet he'd brought with him.
He'd been looking again and again at the US extradition laws and Hong Kong's stance on various entities.
China wasn't the paragon of human rights, but, after a debacle between the Chinese Ministry of Self-Reliance trying to form a "Justice League of China," that League clashing with the actual Justice League, and the eventual absorption of some of the members into the League, China had been forced to adopt some of the League Doctrine in relation to metahuman and non-human beings.
And, for some reason, they had specified in their examples of acceptable entities including ghosts, amongst other beings like demonic and deity, as those that fell under the acts.
In accordance with Chinese Law, a ghost on their soil, so long as it abided by the other laws placed by the government, would be treated like any other human under the same circumstance.
Granted, there was still some hinky stuff kept under wraps, with the media control and how some speculated that the Ministry of Self-Reliance had just gone underground, but, well, that was a different story. Hong Kong, while part of China, was also constantly fighting with its oversight, seeking more freedom and, in fact, had further local rulings that would protect those seeking asylum.
The GIW, his parents, the US government... none of them could touch him there.
Danny realized that someone was approaching him. He flicked his tablet to the home screen as Bruce approached, having gotten out of his seat to go talk to the elder Wayne Children at the front. He had a blanket and pillows in hand.
"You should probably get some sleep, too, before we land." He pointed out. Danny glanced forward, seeing Dick having disappeared into the bathroom while Cass was having what looked like a staring contest with Tim. Jason simply flopped down on one of the sofas while kicking off his boots, getting comfortable for some sleep. "Do you need help with the chair? They're a bit older style, so some of the controls can be a mess." Bruce expressed sincerely, his voice soft.
Danny shrugged and stood, opening his arms to accept the items Bruce had brought over. Bruce smiled as Danny held his own things - Danny may not know how these stupid chairs worked, but he wasn't going to not help - as Bruce got the chair to lie flat. Danny was able to take the rest from there, shaking his head when Bruce offered further.
Danny huddled himself into the corner of the chair, back to the window so that he could keep eyes on the other occupants. He checked his tablet's app that kept track of their flight.
Estimated time of arrival: 7 hours and 23 minutes.
Danny felt his emotions simmer under the icy glass walls he'd placed around his heart, his mind, his core.
He dozed off, praying that the Fenton Luck wouldn't rear its ugly head.
---
It wasn't all fun and games as the Wayne Family packed up for Hong Kong. Tim and Bruce did have to actually attend to Wayne Enterprise while there, and Cass was enlisting Damian to help with a smuggling operation - it would be impossible to take them down and out in the Chinese ports, but the two were planning on doing a lot of intel, planting trackers, and freeing any endangered species should need call.
Jason had largely come with as he'd missed out on John's opening up on the last trip, and, well, once he'd pointed out how John might have had his own dip into a Lazarus Pit, he'd been insistent on coming, claiming something along the lines of "us undead guys gotta stick together."
Dick, having been the one to organize this, had also been a no-brainer.
And Duke? Well, Duke had pointed out that, as the only (known) meta in the family, he also had some unique insight into what that meant and how that could weigh on a person.
Steph had complained about not coming, but she was also swamped in cases. Barbara was had been offered an invite, but she, too, had too much on her plate to come along.
Bruce had been hesitant to leave Gotham, as he always was, but, really, if he needed to be back, the Zeta in Hong Kong could have them back across the world in minutes, not the hours it took for them to fly traditionally.
The plane had a variety of sitting areas, some with tables or chairs facing one another, two sections with couches, and a set of seats near the rear that wouldn't be uncommon on a first-class commercial flight, with one large seat to one side of the row and two on the other. There were nine chairs in this back section with plenty of walking space so that, even if all beds were laid flat, no one would be walking over another.
John had claimed the single in the furthest back row, so Bruce had settled in opposite, hoping to keep an eye on the whole lot from there while also not intruding on the foster's space.
Bruce had made sure to sleep some at the beginning of the flight, not wanting all of them to be out at the same time. While he had staff onboard and trusted his pilots, it was always good to have Bat eyes and ears in case of emergency. With everyone settling down for the last part of the flight to alleviate jet lag, he made sure to stay sentinel.
A body dropped into the seat next to him. Bruce, ever aware, was glancing over as Dick popped his head onto Bruce's shoulder. Bruce had once been a person who had shied away from touch when given the choice, having few who he felt comfortable having in his personal space bubble (though he faked otherwise well), but, well, Dick had always shown a lot of love through physical affection. The young man whom had swung from his antique chandeliers (and still, sometimes, to this day - there was a reason he'd either replaced or reinforced them all to hold human weight) and tried to run around Gotham in a aerialist's unitard (Bruce thanked whoever blessed him with Alfred, because Bruce certainly had trouble convincing his young ward that pants with Kevlar or some other light-weight armor was a requirement to be in the field) was always welcome in Bruce's bubble, as were his other kids.
"You should get some rest, chum." Bruce said, looking back at the tablet in his hands. He was reading over the Budget Report for the Watchtower, something that would be both shocking (the amount of money spent on rare herbs and volcanic ash, while not exorbitant compared to some of the other costs, would certainly cause questions if it wasn't for the fact that they had magic users and, therefore, needed magical defenses) and mundane (three new Speedsters had fallen out of the multiverse/timeline/whatever in the past year, and the food budget was in need of adjustment as they were brought on to various teams).
"Hm." Dick hummed. He was an adult now, well on his way to thirty, but there was something about setting his head on Bruce's shoulder that still made him relax just a bit. He could be fiercely independent, but he also had moments where he would just regress back to being nine, and Bruce's larger than life persona would shield him from the worst of the world for a little bit. "You think this is going to work?"
"I hope so." Bruce returned. "Any luck on finding out more details about John?" Bruce added, but he shifted to Romani so that, even if John woke and somehow overheard their conversation, he'd have, hopefully, no clue on what they were saying.
"He's a ghost." Dick returned in his first tongue, so much smoother than Bruce's accent. "Oracle found some traces of his path to Gotham, but his tracking was all over the place. We've tried using face ID, but we haven't found a match yet."
Bruce sighed through his nose. "I'll keep an ear out for updates from Oracle, then. We will also need to keep an eye on him to make sure that he doesn't bolt when we land."
Dick nodded before pulling out his phone. He switched back to English. "Want to video call Haly and Alfred with me?"
Bruce couldn't help but smile. "You call your kiddo, chum."
"She's the cutest little baby, and you can't convince me otherwise."
"Wasn't going to, Chum."
---
Danny's passing through customs was a bit of a blur. They'd landed at a private landing strip before being whisked away by a half a dozen local passport control agents. Danny kept close to the Waynes, still, because, well, he still felt like he couldn't break.
But the longer he was there, he could feel it.
The ice melting.
Cass had taken the lead once they'd settled in, showing them around her favorite haunts of the city and having Danny try much of the local food. Before the Waynes, he'd never been able to really travel and just be a tourist. Sure, there was one memory of him and Jazz in Toronto when they were very little, and he'd gone to freaking space to stop Technus, but he'd always been too young or in Hero Mode otherwise.
Bruce and Tim had taken him around Wayne Enterprise's main headquarters there the following day, though Jason and Duke had later "broken him out" to go to a local market and laugh at all the poorly worded shirts with bogus English on them.
Danny had cracked a snort when he saw a particularly bad shirt. He still didn't want to allow too much to spill, what with so many people around, but, well, the ASSA shirt with a poor man's Nasa logo had nearly broken him.
He wasn't really allowed to be alone outside of the Wayne Penthouse, where everyone got their own rooms for the trip, but Danny didn't mind. Everyone seemed to have a much better understanding of Cantonese compared to him (which was pretty much anything as Danny spoke none of the language, not that he felt secure enough to speak much anyway), so having everyone else translate was a blessing.
But then, about two weeks in, Danny finally felt the last of his ice break away.
Because Duke had asked him if he wanted to climb out to the rooftop deck, a telescope in hand, and try to find stars through the Hong Kong light polution.
"I think that's Sirius? The dog star?" Duke said as he pointed to a spot in the sky. Only the brightest stars could pierce the night shadow, much like with Gotham on its rare cloudless nights.
"You're pointed at Vega."
Danny was almost shocked as his own voice seemed to claw its way out of his throat.
Duke jumped, swirling back on the younger teen, before seemingly pulling himself together. He looked back at the night sky. Playing calm, Duke added, "Huh. You know your stars?"
"It's the brightest star..." Danny trailed off. He tried to keep his small joy down, his face contorting, but... he was so tired of keeping even his littlest delights down. Of keeping his interests at bay. Of crushing Danny. "...in the constellation Lyra."
"You want to take the bad boy for a spin?" Duke gestured to the telescope.
Hesitantly, Danny approached. He looked into the telescope, adjusting his knowledge based on where they were in the world.
Danny felt himself just... lighten. He could feel his ecto energy rise from his Core for the first time in so long, and he didn't have as much fear. Even if he somehow spiked Ecto now, he was an ocean and continent away from the people looking for him. He was somewhere that would treat him like any other tourist.
He could just... be.
Danny had gotten so caught up in the moment turning to minutes, dropping stifled facts about the stars that he'd always loved, that he forgot about his situation as he looked back, staring at the sky without the telescope.
The ecto flooded his eyes, and the darkness dispersed, revealing the cosmos overhead.
And, then, he noticed the white, floating hair in his perifery.
Danny grasped the hair, and he felt the tug on his head.
And he crashed back into himself.
He'd been glowing. His hair had turned white.
Duke was right there.
Danny tried to clamp down on his emotions, try to think, but the panic rose, his eyes no doubt flashing green, as he turned back to the teenager who was staring right at him.
---
Duke had played calm when John had spoken, desperately hoping not to scare the boy off.
And Duke had somehow hit the jackpot, it seemed, because the boy began to, hesitantly, speak facts about the stars as they looked into the night sky.
If Duke was honest, he didn't need the telescope to see past the darkened sky. His powers allowed him to manipulate the light and shadows around him, and it took barely anything to swipe away the darkness in his own vision to bring the stunning galaxies into focus. He could do the same for others, but, well, he didn't know how John would react if he had done so.
Still, as John took on that eerie glow again, that lightness in his body that seemed to give him a sense of antigravity, his hair turning almost celestial as white dots glowed into white bands, Duke tried not to stare.
But, this time, it seemed that John had become aware of what was happening.
It happened in a blink. One second, John was looking into the night sky, readying the telescope to show Duke another cluster of some kind, but then he stopped. He tugged his own hair, realizing the color shift, and spun on Duke.
Duke had half expected John to shut down, but, this time, it seemed that the walls had fallen away, because John was going into a full-blown panic attack.
John's eyes were the same eerie green, his clothes and hair floating with that unearthly glow and his eyes flickering - sky blue, toxic green, icy blue, and back - and, worse, the ground around John's feet was turning to ice.
"Oh shit." Duke threw, throwing up his hands. "John! John, it's ok. It's fine. I get it."
John looked down, up, down, a hand going to his chest like he was having a heart attack. The air around him seemed to spark and simmer with some kind of energy.
"Look, it's going to be ok. You're not alone."
Duke had lead the We Are Robins movement back in the day, and he had his fair share of helping kids through panic attacks now and through today. He'd learned a lot with Bruce, but patience was one of them.
"No one here is going to hurt you." Duke tried to assure, but the young man before him kept panicking. "Just..." Duke got an idea.
He pulled his powers, using broad body strokes. He didn't need to, but the act both helped him focus on what he was doing and project his movements for John to see.
John looked up as Duke wiped the darkness away from the sky, the galaxies now appearing to them like it did in the areas of the world where light pollution was a distant nightmare.
"I have powers, too. The family knows, and they have helped me through a lot of stuff." Duke reassured. Duke kept an eye on the ice that had been forming at John's feet. It had been seemingly climbing up his legs, across the rooftop (thank goodness that they had glass protectors around with the tall protective bars - they both acted to prevent people from scaling up there - ha, really, because all the kids could jump them - and create barriers that stopped anyone staring at the roof from seeing anything clearly; to an observer with a telescope, they would just see random lights on a penthouse rooftop). "You're safe here."
---
Danny felt his heart stop. Full stop. In his ghost form, he still had one, but it was sluggish and, of course, inhumanly slow. He could stop it like holding one's breathe, but that had never happened in his human form before.
But the shock must have done him in.
Because the sky was so beautiful, and Danny didn't have to fight anything to see it.
Duke was doing it.
Duke was a meta.
Did... did that mean the Waynes would help him? He'd been thinking about how and what he'd do when they planned to load up back to Gotham. They had only planned to be there for three weeks, though Tim had been talking about staying longer and inviting the others to do so if they had the time.
Could they just... help him stay? Cass had her own apartment in the city. She lived here. Could he stay with her?
Wasn't that aiding and abetting? Wouldn't they get in trouble?
Then again, Richer than Six Gods Combined.
Danny felt his heart clench, beating once more.
"I'm going to approach you, ok?"
Danny looked down at the ice then back at Duke.
He didn't want the other teen hurt.
Duke took a step forward and, looking at the ice and Danny's worry, he used wide strokes, once more, as his shadow reached out over the ice.
Danny watched as Duke stepped over the ice, like he was creating his own little Shadow Bridge.
He was like Johnny, in a way.
Heh, and they thought I was the John here. Danny thought vaguely.
Duke made it to Danny without touching the ice. "Can you breathe with me, dude?"
Danny did. He forced his breathing to match Duke's, watching as the other teen breathed in, held, and breathed out.
Danny felt his powers, trapped in a cage of his own making, slowly come back under his control, though bits stayed at the surface with his emotions. He wasn't sure how he'd fix that, but at least he wasn't freezing the floor anymore and managed to dismiss the ice he'd been forming. His glow settled some, and his hair had white mixed in with his black. While Danny couldn't see it, one eye was green while the other was his human blue.
"You feeling more grounded?" Duke questioned.
Danny, feeling like he just flew from Wisconsin to Amity and back, nodded, but he felt wiped.
"Can I take your hand? You look unsteady."
Danny hesitated, looking Duke up and down.
Danny wasn't like Duke. He wasn't sure what Duke was, but Ghosts were not part of the Metahuman protections. He'd looked, and the laws hadn't allowed it. It was the small loophole that the GIW and his parents worked through.
But, as he looked at the other teen, and with what he'd learned about the Waynes, he hardly thought any of them would truly distinguish it.
Danny took the hand offered to him.
And then he stumbled.
"Woah!" Duke rushed forward, grabbing Danny before he could hit the ground. "I think you should lay down. You're freezing, man."
"That's... normal... ish." Danny mumbled. Then, because he hadn't in oh, so long, he added, "I'm... a pretty... chill... guy..."
Duke stopped, startled, before staring at Danny for too long.
Danny thought he'd made the wrong move.
Then, Duke spoke, "Oh my gods, we have another Dick."
Danny couldn't help it. A small, wheezing laugh shook loose of his lungs.
Duke slung the offered arm over his shoulder, hefting most of Danny's weight onto him. "You need to eat more, dude. You're light AF."
Danny shrugged as best he could, feeling his exhaustion stomp down on what emotions he had allowed out. He felt his glow waver.
"Hey, I know you're tired, and, like, panic attacks suck, but, also, glowing? Seriously, are you gonna be ok? Do you need a doctor?" Duke questioned.
"Mm... fine..." Danny ground out. "Sleep."
Danny was out like a light before they got off the roof.
âOh, did you want me to walk beside you? Hold your hand?â
You abruptly stop walking and shoot a glare up into the shadows of the nearby alley. You currently canât see him, but you know heâs in there somewhere.
âI am trying to go home. After a long day,â you reply, âAlone.â
Nightwing melts out of the shadows, lips in a pout. âCome on, babe,â he whines, âI said sorry!â
You just shake your head and continue walking. âStop following me, Nightwing. I wonder what the media would think, a vigilante stalking an innocent civilian and not leaving them alone?â
Some clicking and a whoosh of the air lets you  know heâs on the chase again. Gotham has never been a particularly safe place to walk alone after dark, even after the Bats rose to the occasion. The goons and villains made it hard, for sure, but the crumbling infrastructure of the city was just the icing on the cake. Buses and the train donât run late, leaving a long walk in uncomfortable shoes after being stood up on a date.
âThe media,â comes the reply, voice dripping with pride, âwould simply see one of their beloved vigilantes doing their job! Nothing wrong with that.â
God, you hate he isnât even out of breath keeping up with you. Not like youâre walking that fast, but still. You hope he trips.
âMaybe if the media knew what a dick you are, one that stands up their partner on a date theyâve been planning for months, specifically to not be interrupted!â You snap, unable to keep the simmering anger down. Fuck, if you werenât angry about it, youâd cry. Inhaling slowly, you curl your hands into fists with determination to not make a scene. You stomp on.
Itâs silent for a moment. For two. You would have thought he left if you didnât know any better.
When Nightwing speaks, his voice is heavy. âLook, I know. I was looking forward to tonight too, butââ
You shake your head. When you breathe out, all the fight you had left. âI get it. I do. I justâ let me be upset about it. Okay?â
You donât get a reply or hear anything, but you know heâs still keeping pace. Itâs nothing he can refute anyways. The both of you kept this day clear for months. Itâs not often your dates can be more than a relaxed one at home, or spur of the moment. Not that you didnât love those kinds of dates, of course you did, but itâs nice to dress up and show up for each other. You continue on your path on the crumbling side walk, only thinking about how nice itâll be to be out of these shoes and in comfortable pajamas, maybe drink a glass of wine or two while ignoring your idiot of a partner.
As you pass through a darker portion of the street, a figure flips down in front of you. You stop abruptly lest you crash into them, but it doesnât matter when you trip on a stray pebble and tumble right into waiting arms.
The arms curl around you tighter, rather than letting go.
âIâm sorry,â Dick murmurs into your ear. âIâm really sorry. I told them not to call me in but, fuckâŠâ
You stand still as he digs his face into neck. A small crackle distracts you, talking too muffled for you to make anything out, though you know what this means. A hefty sigh runs through your body and you lean your head onto Dickâs shoulder briefly before prying him off.
âDuty calls,â you say softly, staring into lifeless white lenses. You look over him. Heâs tense, body standing firmly on his feet in a way you know means heâs going to be stubborn. Suddenly, he clenches his jaw and looks away from you, yet he still doesnât leave.
Lifting a hand, you softly trace his jaw up to his mask. With a small smile, you whisper âGo.â
âIâll be as home as soon as I can,â Dick kisses the palm of your hand, and then like a tornado, flips away in a flurry off to whatever disaster is wrecking Gotham this time. You shake your head softly and start moving again.
Before you know it, youâre in bed, eyes blinking blearily as you turn on your phone. 4:43. Whyâre youâ?
âDid I wake you?â
Hands crawl over your waist, gently tugging you back into a chest. You can barely register the kisses on your neck before turning around to face Dick to croak out âDâya jâs git hâme?â
You arenât even sure your eyes are open, but you can still see Dick Grayson through the low lighting. Even while exhausted, he radiates light. He stares at you, hand brushing hair out of your eyes. âGo back to bed.â
âHm.â is all you can manage before darkness takes over you.
The next time you wake up, a dim light shines through the blinds and you feel significantly more awake. You yawn and stretch out your body. Sitting up, something catches the edge of your eye. You look over and jump. Leaning against the doorway with coffee in hand, stands Dick Grayson. Oversized shirt, sweatpants, barefoot with eyes still half-closed, he looks beautiful.
You narrow your eyes and look to his side of the bed. Empty. You look over at the doorway. Dick. Bed. Doorway. No Dick. Dick. âYou,â croaking, you point to the figure, âWho are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?â
Dick only raises and eyebrow and walks over, hand brushing messy hair of of your eyes. âAm I not allowed to get up early?â
You shake your head. âAbsolutely not. Youâre supposed to still be in bed until noon,â
âWell,â he smiles before pushing a thumb on your forehead, tilting your head backwards. You straighten up and give him a look. âGet up. We have somewhere to be,â
Standing up, you reach your hands above your head and stretch. âIs it important?â
You wander to the bathroom, flipping the lights on and yawning. Dick drifts over and watches you brush your teeth from the doorway as he takes another sip. âSuper important. I have a full day of making up to do with my very angry partner.â
The statement makes a wave of butterflies go through you. Washing your mouth out, you look at his reflection in the mirror. âAre you being serious?â
Dickâs reflection nods. âVery serious,â he replies, bright grin overtaking his features, âFunded by Bruce, too. As an apology.â
Now that statement makes you smile. You quickly turn around, affection bubbling within you and threatening to spill over. Stepping towards Dick, you gently push the coffee out of the way and capture his lips in a long kiss. Just as it starts to get seriousâ invoking a different kind of butterfliesâ you pull away.
Dick stares at you with a dazed expression. Â âIâll be quick,â you promise.
âI mean,â he mumbles, leaning towards you presumably to finish what you started, âWe donât have to leave right away⊠We could take a minuteââ
A peck cuts him off. Dick immediately tries to deepen the kiss, but you just pull away and push him out of the doorway so you can close the bathroom door.
âSave that for later, Grayson,â you smirk. Just before the door shuts, you lift on eyebrow. âBy the time Iâm out of this bathroom, you better be ready to go. Iâm not wasting a single minute today.â
The door clicks shut. You hear him chuckle and call out an affirmation. Turning back to the mirror so you can finish your morning routine, you look at yourself. Bright eyes, blushed cheeks, wide grin. You werenât lying to him, you werenât going to waste a single minute today. That included after you get home from your outing together. Dick definitely needed a punishment after yesterday, and you intend to make him learn his lesson all night long.
âOh, did you want me to walk beside you? Hold your hand?â
You abruptly stop walking and shoot a glare up into the shadows of the nearby alley. You currently canât see him, but you know heâs in there somewhere.
âI am trying to go home. After a long day,â you reply, âAlone.â
Nightwing melts out of the shadows, lips in a pout. âCome on, babe,â he whines, âI said sorry!â
You just shake your head and continue walking. âStop following me, Nightwing. I wonder what the media would think, a vigilante stalking an innocent civilian and not leaving them alone?â
Some clicking and a whoosh of the air lets you  know heâs on the chase again. Gotham has never been a particularly safe place to walk alone after dark, even after the Bats rose to the occasion. The goons and villains made it hard, for sure, but the crumbling infrastructure of the city was just the icing on the cake. Buses and the train donât run late, leaving a long walk in uncomfortable shoes after being stood up on a date.
âThe media,â comes the reply, voice dripping with pride, âwould simply see one of their beloved vigilantes doing their job! Nothing wrong with that.â
God, you hate he isnât even out of breath keeping up with you. Not like youâre walking that fast, but still. You hope he trips.
âMaybe if the media knew what a dick you are, one that stands up their partner on a date theyâve been planning for months, specifically to not be interrupted!â You snap, unable to keep the simmering anger down. Fuck, if you werenât angry about it, youâd cry. Inhaling slowly, you curl your hands into fists with determination to not make a scene. You stomp on.
Itâs silent for a moment. For two. You would have thought he left if you didnât know any better.
When Nightwing speaks, his voice is heavy. âLook, I know. I was looking forward to tonight too, butââ
You shake your head. When you breathe out, all the fight you had left. âI get it. I do. I justâ let me be upset about it. Okay?â
You donât get a reply or hear anything, but you know heâs still keeping pace. Itâs nothing he can refute anyways. The both of you kept this day clear for months. Itâs not often your dates can be more than a relaxed one at home, or spur of the moment. Not that you didnât love those kinds of dates, of course you did, but itâs nice to dress up and show up for each other. You continue on your path on the crumbling side walk, only thinking about how nice itâll be to be out of these shoes and in comfortable pajamas, maybe drink a glass of wine or two while ignoring your idiot of a partner.
As you pass through a darker portion of the street, a figure flips down in front of you. You stop abruptly lest you crash into them, but it doesnât matter when you trip on a stray pebble and tumble right into waiting arms.
The arms curl around you tighter, rather than letting go.
âIâm sorry,â Dick murmurs into your ear. âIâm really sorry. I told them not to call me in but, fuckâŠâ
You stand still as he digs his face into neck. A small crackle distracts you, talking too muffled for you to make anything out, though you know what this means. A hefty sigh runs through your body and you lean your head onto Dickâs shoulder briefly before prying him off.
âDuty calls,â you say softly, staring into lifeless white lenses. You look over him. Heâs tense, body standing firmly on his feet in a way you know means heâs going to be stubborn. Suddenly, he clenches his jaw and looks away from you, yet he still doesnât leave.
Lifting a hand, you softly trace his jaw up to his mask. With a small smile, you whisper âGo.â
âIâll be as home as soon as I can,â Dick kisses the palm of your hand, and then like a tornado, flips away in a flurry off to whatever disaster is wrecking Gotham this time. You shake your head softly and start moving again.
Before you know it, youâre in bed, eyes blinking blearily as you turn on your phone. 4:43. Whyâre youâ?
âDid I wake you?â
Hands crawl over your waist, gently tugging you back into a chest. You can barely register the kisses on your neck before turning around to face Dick to croak out âDâya jâs git hâme?â
You arenât even sure your eyes are open, but you can still see Dick Grayson through the low lighting. Even while exhausted, he radiates light. He stares at you, hand brushing hair out of your eyes. âGo back to bed.â
âHm.â is all you can manage before darkness takes over you.
The next time you wake up, a dim light shines through the blinds and you feel significantly more awake. You yawn and stretch out your body. Sitting up, something catches the edge of your eye. You look over and jump. Leaning against the doorway with coffee in hand, stands Dick Grayson. Oversized shirt, sweatpants, barefoot with eyes still half-closed, he looks beautiful.
You narrow your eyes and look to his side of the bed. Empty. You look over at the doorway. Dick. Bed. Doorway. No Dick. Dick. âYou,â croaking, you point to the figure, âWho are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?â
Dick only raises and eyebrow and walks over, hand brushing messy hair of of your eyes. âAm I not allowed to get up early?â
You shake your head. âAbsolutely not. Youâre supposed to still be in bed until noon,â
âWell,â he smiles before pushing a thumb on your forehead, tilting your head backwards. You straighten up and give him a look. âGet up. We have somewhere to be,â
Standing up, you reach your hands above your head and stretch. âIs it important?â
You wander to the bathroom, flipping the lights on and yawning. Dick drifts over and watches you brush your teeth from the doorway as he takes another sip. âSuper important. I have a full day of making up to do with my very angry partner.â
The statement makes a wave of butterflies go through you. Washing your mouth out, you look at his reflection in the mirror. âAre you being serious?â
Dickâs reflection nods. âVery serious,â he replies, bright grin overtaking his features, âFunded by Bruce, too. As an apology.â
Now that statement makes you smile. You quickly turn around, affection bubbling within you and threatening to spill over. Stepping towards Dick, you gently push the coffee out of the way and capture his lips in a long kiss. Just as it starts to get seriousâ invoking a different kind of butterfliesâ you pull away.
Dick stares at you with a dazed expression. Â âIâll be quick,â you promise.
âI mean,â he mumbles, leaning towards you presumably to finish what you started, âWe donât have to leave right away⊠We could take a minuteââ
A peck cuts him off. Dick immediately tries to deepen the kiss, but you just pull away and push him out of the doorway so you can close the bathroom door.
âSave that for later, Grayson,â you smirk. Just before the door shuts, you lift on eyebrow. âBy the time Iâm out of this bathroom, you better be ready to go. Iâm not wasting a single minute today.â
The door clicks shut. You hear him chuckle and call out an affirmation. Turning back to the mirror so you can finish your morning routine, you look at yourself. Bright eyes, blushed cheeks, wide grin. You werenât lying to him, you werenât going to waste a single minute today. That included after you get home from your outing together. Dick definitely needed a punishment after yesterday, and you intend to make him learn his lesson all night long.
You try to swallow the lump thatâs appeared in your throat. You know you must look stupid with your open-mouth stare, but you couldnât help it. ReallyâŠ
âWhat the fuck,â you repeat, scanning the figure in front of you. In the dingy hallway of your apartment complex, stands an out of place person. Red helmet scratched up, black tactical suit torn, and the most startling of all, the amount of blood pouring out from behind a hand.
âHey, I donât mean to rush this⊠but do you mind likeââ the figure jerks his head and all you can do float aside to allow him to hobble through. You bite your lip and peek into the hallway. All that stares back at you is flickering LED lights and dingy wallpaper.
Letting out a shaky breath, you stare at the blood spots left on the floor as the door closes, latching it as quietly as possible. You turn the lock.
The injured vigilante you let in has made their way to your couch, draping themselves across it with legs falling off the sides. Itâs silent, air tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You open your mouth, ready to start complaining when glistening liquid catches you eye. Clicking your tongue, you go to retrieve the first aid kit from the bathroom.
Flipping on the switch, you squint to adjust to the sudden brightness. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Mussed up hair from sleep, wrinkled pajamas, and a deep frown. You take in a deep breath to collect yourself. Right. Nowâs not the time to be distracted by anything other than the problem bleeding out on your couch.
You rummage in the cabinet underneath the sink for a couple minutes, noises too loud for whatever fucking time it is. Behind a stack of toilet paper is where the med-kit is hiding, so it's quickly snatched up and you hurry back to the living room. The idiot is still in the same position, sans the red helmet, which has been tossed aside on the floor.
You shake your head and sigh. âYou actually have to take off your suit for me to do anything.â
Blue-greenish eyes swipe to look over at you. They look distinctly glassy and out of focus. Concussion?
âYou tryinâ to get me in bed already? At least take me to dinner first,â the mighty Red Hood responds, trying to smile but winces and carefully remains still. You bite your lip.
âThink you can move, or am I gonna have to cut the suit?â you ask, settling on the small sliver of couch left for you, pressing against his thighs. Opening the med-kit, everything gets set out in preparation.
Thereâs a groan and instantly you zone in on Jasonâs face, twisted in pain.
âJust take it off. Trying to replace this shit is too annoying,â he grunts, slowly sitting up. You watch him closely, taking in every small twitch and tense muscles. Gently, hands are placed around his waist, slowly peeling back the top half of his suit. Jasonâs been through this a lot. Too much, you think sourly. He forcibly relaxes and doesnât move when his shirt finally pulls away from his wound. It takes several minutes, going slow and checking over everything, before his top is finally off of him and tossed on the floor somewhere.
His chest is littered with bruises and small scratches, but none of it compares to the gaping knife wound spanning from his ribs to waist. Youâre not going to lie, the amount of blood along with how deep the wound is disgustingâyou donât want to know what muscle youâre seeing behind his peeled back skinâbut you hold your breath.
Neither of you say anything. Youâre focused on cleaning, disinfecting, and wincing as you feel and hear loose skin squish against the needle held in bloody hands. You only fully relax when everything is safely bandaged behind white gauze. Eyes dart up to Jasonâs face, becoming slightly startled and embarrassed when you find him already looking at you. Maintaining eye-contact, you reach a hand up to his face, gently brushing over his cheek.
âAnything else I need to know?â you ask quietly, afraid to break whatever comfortable silence the two of you have. Jason takes in a deep breath and shakes his head, leaning into your hand. You donât want to disturb him. He finally looks somewhat peaceful and not in too much pain after the many pills you shoved at him to take. âIâm going to get a washcloth and some clothes, okay? Donât move.â
Jason flinches and wide eyes meet yours. âI was, uh, I wasnât planning on staying,â he says, obviously confused. You stare into his eyes. He only stares back.
You quirk an eyebrow. âDo you honestly think Iâm letting you leave this apartment in this state?â
âIâve had worse, nothinâ to worry about your pretty head about, doll,â he grunts. Heâs in the process of sitting up, but doesnât get too far before a hand is pushing him back down.
âThat doesnât exactly make me feel better,â you dryly respond, âNow, youâre going to sit here and wait for me to come back, okay?â
There must be something showing in your expression because Jason takes a moment before relenting with a sigh. âHurry it up then, Iâm tired and want to sleep.â
You scoff. Honestly, the audacity of this man is astounding. You quickly gather clean clothes for him, random stuff heâs left here from past visits. Armed with a bowl of water and a washcloth, youâre ready to tackle the problem of wiping him down. By the time you make it back to the couch, Jasonâs already discarded his pants and shoes. He smiles widely as soon as he sees you, wiggling his eyebrows. The washcloth you were holding is now hitting him in the face.
âWhaâHey!â Jason pouts, âWhat was that for?â
The bowl of water is set down on the table, a little splashing over the sides. You look up to him. âYou woke me up at an ungodly hour, bleeding out, made me fix you, and then expected me to wipe you down myself? Are you kidding me, Jason?â
Youâre actually a little upset. Itâs not that you havenât seen him covered in blood before, but usually itâs not his blood heâs covered in. You knew what you were signing up for when you got together, but it doesnât make it any less terrifying. A warmth wraps around your clenched fist and squeezes. You focus back into the present.
Jasonâs looking at you with furrowed brows and a frown. You look down at your hands before youâre suddenly exhausted. Stumbling, you sit down next to Jason and deflate into his side.
âIâIâm sorry. JustâŠâ you close your eyes and take a moment to collect yourself. âItâs just scary. Seeing you like that.â
Your chin is gently clasped and turned to look over to your lover sitting next to you. A thumb brushes against your cheek. âNo, doll, Iâm sorry. I know itâs a lot to ask of you,â Jason whispers, regret filling every word.
Shaking your head, you cover his hand with yours to keep him from pulling away. âDonât. I would rather you come to me like this than I not knowing, with you in some dirty alley or safe house,â you reply and press a gentle kiss to his palm. âI just donât like seeing you hurt.â
The exhaustion has finally caught up to you, dragging you down. You didn't really want to leave him alone, but a large yawn seizes you. Giving him another once, you deem it okay to leave him by himself.
âIâm gonna go to bed. Join me when you're clean,â you lean forwards and press a gentle kiss to his lips before silently making your way back into the bedroom. Too much has happened too early in the morning. Collapsing onto the bed, you take in a deep breath. You wonât go to bed without him, but your eyelids are heavy and begging for you to close them, so you do.
The next thing you know, the bed is dipping next to you while the blankets slowly cover you up. Not opening your eyes at all, you blindly reach out your left hand and wave it in the air until it makes purchase on something. A hand catches yours. Even with your eyes closed, you can basically feel the guilt he has for worrying you rolling off in waves. Gripping his hand tightly, you drag him down and press your body to his, keeping him in place. You're not chancing him leaving as soon as you fall asleep.
Your head rests on his chest, the gentle thump of his heart and rhythmic breathing is quickly lulling you back to sleep. In your last moments of consciousness, you feel his arm wrap around your back and a pressure on the crown of your head.
âGânight, doll,â he whispers. With him safely wrapped around you in the comfort of your home together, sleep is quick to find you.
youâre an awesome writer !! i finished reading the quackity one shot and a part of a wilbur one and theyâre so good! have my support !!â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïžđđđđ€đ€đ€đ€
omg thank you :(( this means a lot to me <3 i hope you enjoy everything else i have published!
The Dream SMP isnât kind to people. You go in, bright and beautiful and wonderfully you. It starts slow, but itâs sure. Seeping into your pores, it crawls and twists and sneaks, infecting your soul. Turning from someone youthful and full of life to something grotesque and ill. When you come out the other side, you are an empty husk of what you use to be.
You wish it didnât have to be this way. You wish you didnât have to watch countless people you love turn to beasts without any sympathy. At least you can recognize the ways itâs changed you. From someone always laughing and smiling at something, you are much less gracious with your emotions now; projecting apathy or smugness at bestâin public at least.
Behind doors, you can be yourself. Show any emotions you want, show any desire you want, any semblance of an attachment. Thatâs what you think, as you lie in bed with the early morning rays of sun hitting your bare shoulders and warming you up.
Itâs nothing compared to the warmth you feel when you look at your sleeping lover's face. Your hand strokes her delicate cheek tenderly, careful not to apply too much pressure. Watching in awe at how strong she is. How short little breaths come out, how her eyebrows furrow before settling again, how she shifts forward further into your embrace. It makes your heart fill with joy and love and contentedness.
On any other day, you would spiral into your emotions, confused on how someone so perfect could love you. But today isnât that day, and youâre content to lie here and stare at her for hours.
âStop starinâ at me,â Puffy grumbles, turning her face into the pillow. You laugh and press your forehead to hers.
âGood morning, my sleeping beauty,â you coo.
Puffy scoffs and peaks an eye open. âItâs creepy. Stop,â
You hum in thought beforeâ âNope. I quite enjoy basking in your presence.â
âOh my god,â she grumbles, âWhatâs gotten into you this morning?â
You watch her sit up and yawn, arms stretching up above her head and into the sky. She rubs at her eyes before standing up unsteadily. You prop yourself up on one elbow and watch as she starts towards the bathroom.
âNothing, my sweet little pumpkin pie,â you smile, âWhy canât I admire you?â
Puffy stops at the threshold of the en suite. Turning her head around, she gives you an unimpressed stare. âNever say that again, or I swear to God I will kill you,â
With that, she flips you off. Clutching at your heart, you fall back with a pained noise, as if you got shot. You hear her giggle and then the door shuts. Rolling your eyes, you guess you should also get up and start the day. You go through the motions, with fatigue dragging your body down and begging for you to return to bed. You just finished getting dressed as Puffy exits the bathroom, looking sufficiently more refreshed.
Perking up, you remembered the plans you have for today.
âPuffy!â you interrupt the silence, causing Puffy to jump. She turns to you with an alarmed face. âGet dressed and meet me down stairs! Hurry, hurry!â
Puffyâs face twists. âUh, okayââ
You donât wait for her to finish before hurriedly exiting the bedroom, practically skipping in excitement. Itâs been so long since youâve had a day to yourselves, away from everyone else and you were determined to make today a rest day. You've been planning this for weeks now!
In the kitchen, you reach for a basket thatâs kept in the very back of your cabinets, one that was reserved for happier times. Pulling it out, the faint hint of dust makes nostalgia wash over you.
Setting the basket gently on the counter, you start to gather everything you prepped the night before. Crackers, check. Cheese, check. Chocolate, check. Wine? Double check. You just finished packing everything in and closed the lid when Puffy enters the kitchen.
She still looks confused, lips tilted downwards and eyebrows furrowed. She meets your gaze, scanning your body before moving to the object next to you. It takes a minute, but as soon as she realizes whatâs going on, her lips part in an âoâ shape.
âAre weâare we going on a picnic?â she stutters, shuffling closer to you. You smile and nod, holding out a hand. Absent-minded, she puts her hand in yours. You pull her in and kiss her knuckles.
âYeah, thought we could use a break,â you reply, âWhat do you think? Me and you, away from here for a little?â
You can see the uncertainty bloom in her. Puffy tries to take her hand back, but you simply keep it in place. âButâbut what if someone needs me? What ifââ
âShh,â you hush, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. She sighs into you, kissing back with a little more passion. Smiling, you pull back. âLet me take care of you today. Nothingâs going to burn down because youâre gone,â
Puffy quirks an eyebrow but smiles back at you anyway. âI actually think thatâs quite possible, with the people here,â
You laugh but agree. âCome on, why donât we head out?â
And so you go, packing up some other things like a blanket and some pillows. Itâs a surprisingly nice day, like it knew to put on itâs best performance for you two. Your hands are locked in an embrace, and you look over to Puffy. Sheâs wearing a woven sun hat, but underneath her hair is loose, flowing freely in the gentle breeze. She looks absolutely divine with the sun gleaming down on her. Sheâs glowing. Love bursts in your heart and you canât resist leaning over to kiss her cheek.
Puffy only smiles in return, continuing whatever she was talking about beforeâyouâre a little to caught up looking at her to really hear what sheâs saying.
Finally, when you reach the end of the path on onto nature, you come across the perfect spot. A soft gentle hill, with the perfect decline. Flowers cover the hill, bees buzzing and birds chirping. You settle down a blanket and get comfortable. The lunch is delicious, the food is good but the company is great. Laughing and smiles dominant the conversation.
When the wine gets drained and stomachs filled with food, Puffy yawns and shifts.
âDo you want to take a nap?â you ask, brushing a stray piece of hair off her shoulder. She ponders it for a moment before nodding. Thereâs some readjustment, a few curses let out as rocks poke her, but eventually she settles with her head in your lap. She closes her eyes and you get lost in her features again.
âThank you for doing this,â Puffy says, softly rubbing her thumb over your hand.
You canât properly express your love. âYou wonât take care of yourself, so someone has to.â
âStill,â she insists, eyes straining with some kind of emotion you donât wish to decipher.
You lean down to kiss her. Itâs a little awkward, and your back is straining from the weird position, but the kiss is sweet and totally worth it. For a while, nothing can be heard besides the chime of grass and song of birds. A calming feeling settles over the hill.
âI love you. I want you to be happy,â you murmur against her lips. âIâm happy when youâre happy.â
Puffy laughs and kisses you again before you pull away. Her eyes are sparkling. âGood thing Iâm delighted right now, huh?â
You feel your lungs inflate with a rush of the sceneryâair, flowers, grass, and Puffy, oh Puffy. You love her so much, and she smiles because she knows.
tw: suggestive content (talk of nudity, kissing) ; hurt/comfort
The setting sun disappeared behind towering buildings as you walk steadily towards your destination. Your exposed arms shuddered against the chill of the cool evening breeze. Glancing down at your wristwatch, itâs barely visible in the fading light. 8 o'clock sharp. Taking a moment to marvel at your punctuality, you turn a corner. That's when you heard your name being shouted from somewhere in the distance.
You look around in all directions, finally meeting the luminescent green of the one and only Charlie Slimecicle. A grin splits your face from itâs usual pensiveness. âWhatâs up, Charlie?â
As soon as he reaches your position, the two of you start to continue walking. âOh, I am up nothing! Just doing normal human activities,â he replies, pointing to the ground. âLike walking!â
You nod. Charlie is the epitome of quirky and endearing. âWalking is perfectly normal,â you agree. The sun has now disappeared, leaving nothing to chase away the cold that seeps into your bones. Shivering, you cross you arms to conserve body heat. You glance up to the nearest street sign and almost sigh in relief. Between the aching in your feet from uncomfortable shoes to the increasing chill and darkness, you cannot wait to be home. Next to you, Charlie is babbling about something or another, but you couldnât really listen, letting the noise wash over you instead to offer a backtrack to the emptiness of your mind.
You hum and offer small input when needed, but mostly you let your mind drift as your body runs on auto-pilot. You barely noticed Charlie even stopped until you almost ran into his back. Flinching back in surprise, you look up to see what stopped him.
âQuackity from Las Nevadas!â Charlie shouts, âHow are you?â
Sure enough, Quackity stands just ahead of you speaking to someone in a suit you donât recognize. At the shout of his name, he turns at catches sight of the two of you. Walking closer, you catch a glimpse of a smile before itâs smothered into a neutral expression. He nods his head at the business man, muttering something quietly to them. The man doesnât seem too pleased, but he nods his head back anyway and walks away.
As soon as the man disappears from sight, a smile graces Quackityâs features. As soon as youâre in reaching distanced, youâre pulled into his chest. âHow are you, mi amor?â he questions, pulling back to observe your figure. You roll your eyes and shove him lightly.
âIâm goodââ you pause. Quackity raises his eyebrows. You lick your lips. âMaybe a bit hungry. My feet hurt and Iâm cold,â
Quackityâs smile only grows and he makes to remove his jacket. âWell we canât have that, can we?â He drapes his suit jacket across your shoulders, a sigh escaping you as the layer warms you up a bit.
âI can also feel cold!â Charlie interjects, smile large and with teeth. âIâm just human like that!â
Quackity tuts. âWe should get you inside then. I donât need two frozen people under my watch!â
He slips an arm around you waist and then the three of you are off. You press closer into his side. âOh, so one icicle is fine?â
He looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows. âYes.â
âHowâre we gonna break the news to Slime?â you stage whisper, a conspirator smile on your face.
âOh no, please do not make me freezeââ Charlie worries. Quackity also has a large grin on his face.
He tightens his grip and pulls you in closer. âWho said Iâd save you?â
He laughs, high-pitched and careless while you can also stare in astonishment. After a few seconds gaping in disbelief, you scoff and nudge your shoulder into his side. He only nudges back harder. Narrowing your eyes at the challenge, you shove back harder. You assumed Quackity wanted to retaliate, but the front doors of the casino popped into view and while Quackity is an absolute menace, he also has a reputation to upkeep. You can feel in take in a deep breath before squaring his shoulders. You walk through the lobby, occasionally acknowledging people you nod at you first.
You guys and Charlie parts ways, him off to do whatever it is he does. The elevator opens up to your suite and you shuffle inside. Taking off your shoes make you audibly groan, stretching out the sore muscles. Quackityâs jacket slips off your shoulders, you hastily running to the bedroom to hang it up. Quackity had the same idea, albeit less rushed. He walks into the bedroom a minute after you first appeared. The large closet was opened as you mess around with the innards to find what you were looking for.
âIâm going to take a bath,â you say, hearing Quackity hum in acknowledgment. âWanna join?â
You turn around, robe and pajamas in tow. Quackity gasps, hand over his heart as wide eyes stare at you in surprise. âMi amor! Are you trying to see me⊠naked?â he dramatically states. âIâll have you know, Iâm saving myself for marriage and donâtââ
âSo thatâs a yes?â you cut him off, hip popping to one side. Quackityâs paused mid-sentence, mouth opened wide. He opens and closes it for a few seconds before he sighs, moving to the drawers where he keeps his pajamas.
âOf course, mi amor. Iâll meet you in there,â he says. You give him a quick peck on the way out, turning on the bathroomâs lights and set your things down. You pad over to the tub and let the water run for a few moments to get it hot before you plug it up. Making a split-second decision, some soaking salt was splashed in as well as some essential oils. A little recovery night never hurts someone. You just got done searching around for a candle when the man of the hour walks in. You light it and observe your work. Deeming it alright, you turn to find your lover staring. He wiggles his eyebrows and walks closer.
âAm I allowed to disrobe thee?â he asks. You roll your eyes and lift your arms up, a silent âyesâ providing consent. He takes his time to be gentle, making sure you barely feel his hands or your clothes being taken off. Some might say the act of taking clothes off is sexual, but in this moment, all you feel is tender love filling up your body. As the last pieces hits the floor, Quackity presses gentle kisses to your shoulders while you return the favor. You reach up to his neck, a cold piece of metal meets your hand, and youâre met with the sight of his ex-fiancesâ ring.
Quackity lifts his head and stares at you. You donât blame him for keeping it around, in fact it would bother your more if he just discarded it. You can tell he always worries about your thoughts of it from the way his lips purse to his body being angled more towards you, as if he could distract you from seeing them. Thumbing the ring, you smile at him and kiss his cheek to sooth his worry. Instantly, he relaxes and you almost have to toss the ring onto the counter before youâre dragged towards the tub.
You sigh in bliss as you sink into the hot water, letting your eyes slide shut. Water sloshes around you as Quackity starts to sit behind you. As soon as you feel heâs fully seated, you lean back into his chest, hands automatically wrapping around your midsection. With the gentle smell of relaxing oils, and the hot water massaging tired muscles, you let yourself be enveloped by it.
-
Not everything is so peachy. Itâs late at night, lights turned off yet no one asleep. No one ever falls asleep in Las Nevadas. Youâre currently laying in an empty bed and staring at the wall, the spot next to you long past being warm. The penthouse is very luxurious and more than you could ever ask for, but the sheer size of it makes you feel more alone than ever with no one to buffer empty space. You turn to look out the wall length windows. Bright lights assault your eyes, distant shouting can be heard from the streets. Youâre starting to get a headache already.
Making a split second decision, you get up, wrapping your robe around you and slipping your feet into slippers. Padding out the bedroom and into the main room, you spot a shadowed figure out on the balcony, smoke billowing away from them.
The door handle makes your fingers go cold from how freezing it is, but you slide open the glass door anyways. Youâre greeted with harsh winds that tousle your hair and weave through your robe.
The figure turns around, dark eyes glinting in the night. Quackity opens his mouth and smoke rolls out of it, polluting your eyes and the second-hand smoke burns your nose.
âWhatâre you doing out here? You should be asleep,â he says, leaning against the balcony railing. You shuffle closer, pressing into his side.
âI could ask you the same thing,â you reply. Down below, people run around shouting at each other, bells occasionally going off. LED lights makes the city a living rainbow. Itâs quite beautiful. Returning your eyes to Quackity, you watch with lazy attention as he takes a long drag before letting out an even longer breath. He drops the cigarette to the floor and stamps it out, twisting his foot on it. He smiles at you and opens his arms, to which you immediately burrow in.
Something cold hits your cheek and you pull back, catching sight of glinting metal. You bring your hand to it and gently clasp the ring.
âIâŠâ Quackity starts. You look up with a noncommittal hum, still thumbing the ring. He breaks eye contact, staring out into the city that never sleeps.
âYou know I⊠Iâm with you now, right?â he whispers.
You hum. âI know.â
âI only have my eyes on you.â Quackity insists. You smile at him.
âThen why do you still carry this around?â
To emphasize your point, you tug on the chain. Hurt flashes on his face and he looks away. Your eyebrow quirks up and you lift a hand to his cheek and force him to look back at you.
âIâm not mad, okay?â you begin, âI know how much they mean to you,â
He scoffs but covers the hand on his face with his. âMeant. How much they meant to me, you mean,â
âNah,â you hum, tugging on the chain again for affect. Quackity leans in closer to where your faces hover against one another. âHow much they do mean to you. Youâre not over them,â
And with that, you seal the deal with your lips pressing gently into him. You try and focus all your emotions into this one kiss, hoping he can understand what needs to happen. Letting go of the chain, you wrap your arm around his neck to bring him in closer. He readily follows, both hands dropping to grasp your hips. Once the need for air becomes too put, you pull away giggling when he chases your lips.
You stare into his bright eyes. One is dark and reflects bright lights back at you, like thousands of little stars. The other one is a glassy white, the moon who watches you. He rests his forehead against yours with a small grin.
âWhyâd we stop?â he asks, pushing your body until youâre pressed between the railing and him. His knee prods in between your legs, making you feel like jelly. Quackity makes a move to lean back in, but you stop him with firm pull at his shirt. He follows your lead, but looks at you in confusion. Trailing a finger down his scar, you savor this moment. It could be the last.
âI think you should talk to them,â you whisper. For a second, nothing happens. You see the exact moment he makes the connection, because he jerks back with wide eyes and an open mouth. You purse your lips and hold onto him tighter to stop him from leaving. Both of you know he could easily overtake you, but he doesnât. The thought makes you warm inside. It doesnât overpower the guilt, however. âI think you need to talk. You deserve closure. Explanation,â
He closes his eyes before his features twist into a scowl. He pulls away just enough until the only part of you touching is your hands on his shoulders. âYeah?â he bites out, âWhy donât you just tell me you want to leave too,â
âAre you serious right now?â youâre astonished. âIâm just saying, itâll help you figure out your emotions!â
He rips your hands off. You feel hurt crawl up your throat, making the temporary anger dissipate. Quackityâs lips are pulled into an almost-snarl. You shake your head and cautiously take a half-step forward. He doesnât move, only clenches his jaw and crosses his arms, which you take as a win.
âDonât you want to know?â you speak softly, âArenât you curious?â
You close the distance again, slowly wrap a hand around his elbow. âI think they owe you at least that, donât you think?â
You watch his eyes, as they search your face for something. Quackity sighs and drops his arms, shoulders hunched in on yourself. You thought heâd put up more of a fight, but it doesnât mean you arenât thankful. He mumbles something and you frown in question. âWhat was that?â
He embraces you, taking you by surprise but without hesitation to cling back.
âI donât want to get hurt again,â he whispers. You can hear the quiver in his voice. You press a kiss into his hair.
âI wonât let you,â you declare.
-
This was always going to happen. Maybe you didnât realize in the beginning, but as time went on, it was really inevitable. You were doomed to fail.
He could have been madly in love with you, but he was already wholly and tragically in love with his fiancesâ. Love arrives exactly when itâs supposed to. Sometimes it stays, sometimes it canât. And as you pack your things, you look out into the penthouse and realize: this was a temporary visit.
Footsteps draw you out of your wallowing. You turn and meet the sight of your once-was lover. You appraise him. He looks the same, black hair stowed away in a beanie, scar raised against freckled skin, and attire fit for a man whose on-top of the world. But you also see something differentâthe lightness in his shoulders. The small curve of his lips, as if heâs seconds away from breaking out into a smile. Heâs a sight for sore eyes.
âWhere are you going?â he asks.
âAway,â you answer. You canât look away. His features fall into despair. It makes you want to apologize and comfort him, running your fingers through his hair and promise you never meant it.
He takes a few steps forward. âWâwhy?â
âQuackity,â you smile. âI canât stay here.â
He looks like he wants to resist, like he also wants to come over and make you feel better. All he does is reach a hand out before letting it drop. He nods slowly, like heâs trying to convince himself to be okay with it. He walks closer and wordlessly tugs you into a warm embrace. A burning feeling creeps up your throat with effort as you try not to cry. Your head is laid against his chest, ear to his steadily beating heart. You needed to ask him something. You needed to know.
âAt least part of it was real right?â you choke out, eyes rapidly clouding with tears.
âOh, mi amor,â he sounds heartbroken, âAll of it was real.â
A sob breaks through and a hand flies to your mouth to stop. Quackity only tightens his grip and cradles your head. More footsteps interrupt you. You push him away, frantically wiping at your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you give a shaky smile to the three of them. Sapnap and Karl look worried, shyly walking up to Quackityâs side. Their eyes dart from you to Quackity, trying to decipher if they need to step in. Your entire being longs to be there instead.
You clear your throat to draw their attention. Bending down to reach your bags, an awkward pause fills the room. âI guess this is goodbye,â you call out. Quackity frowns.
âCome visit okay?â Quackity calls out desperately. âDonât be a stranger!â
His eyebrows are furrowed and eyes wild with grief. Itâs not fair how much you love him. Youâll remember the early mornings, where his breath is stained by coffee and where the world has yet to ruin his mood. Youâll call upon how he always valued your opinion, from what will be for dinner or what the new floor in the casino should be decorated like. Youâll miss the gentle hands the took you apart, the heart that was opened up to you. Youâll miss him for the rest of your life.
Next to Quackity, Sapnap wraps an arm around his waist with a gentle squeeze. Karl hovers behind his other shoulder. This is a necessary evil, you remind yourself. Heâll be taken care of and loved for the rest of eternity.
âOh, my dear,â you respond. âYou wonât see me ever again,â
You walk out with your bags grasped tightly in your hands, lip quivering and tears that flow down your face. Youâll miss him indeed, but youâll miss who you were with him more.
Iâm watching Hunger Games atm and I wanna talk about a Gen Z Hunger Games. Like if the games had been going on for 73 years prior to now. This year was the 74th where the story starts.
*watches someone get shot in the neck*
*shrugs* *looks into camera* It be like that sometimes Carl.
âWhoâs Carl?â
âThe camera. I named that camera Carl.â
~
*during the bloodbath* *bell rings* *we continue to stand unmoving*
Tribute: âAlright fuckers, which of you Slytherins is gonna move first?â
~
More suicides than other games. But we get creative.
*makes bowls from rocks or whatever* *mixes poisonous berries with bad water* *toasts with friend* Cheers!
*drinks* mmmm bleach *dies*
~
Some theatre geeks: *cannon sounds* Boom! Goes the cannon! Watch the blood and the shit spray! Boom! Goes the cannon! Weâre abandoning this bay!
~
Tribute: We should team up⊠Follow me:
Tribute @ â: Nah nah nah sister! You ainât getting me to no secondary location! Street Smarts!
~
Tribute: *realizes theyâre dying* Mr. Stark⊠I donât feel so good.
~
Tribute: *about to fight so people* Maximum Effort.
Same tributeâ: *searching for someone for revenge* Whereâs Francis!?
~
Thereâs some are millennials in there with us. Maybe a Gen X. And thereâs one or two baby boomers.
Nothing, I repeat nOTHING could ever replicate both the absolute chaos and unity created by Kahoot. But the question is, which kid are you?: The kid panicking over wifi signal? The kid going âbUT I CLICKED THE OTHER ONEâ? The kid sighing in defeat? The kid screaming in pain? The kid shouting in joy? The kid whoâs like âwas I toooo fast? no. kashoot yourself bitchâ? The kid whoâs lost their soul to Kahoot? Every single one. You are and have been every single last one of these and if you say that you arenât, youâre a fucking liar.
i didnât watch 17 (and soon 18) interconnected superhero films just for tony stark to get smushed by a ugly alien grape in the 19th, reblog if you agree
