I forgot to post this and damn this post is getting long but I am an idiot who is committed to this format. So anyway -
Really, it had only been a matter of time.
Danny had had many bad wake-up calls in his life, usually ghost or ghost-hunting related, but being woken from a dead sleep by slipping from his bed onto a cold hard metal floor was particularly unpleasant.
"Ow," he groaned eloquently, clutching his aching head.
Danny squinted his eyes open, looking around for the source of the voice. He grabbed the metal table leg next to him to help haul himself to his feet. Only once he stood, realized he hadn't landed next to a table.
It was a medical cot, and on it lay Bruce; battered, bandaged and unconscious. Danny gasped, his hands hovering over Bruce's prone form as though there was anything he could possibly do for him right now. His only consolation was the quiet, steady beep of a heart monitor, and the distinct lack of grey in Bruce's hair; whatever had happened, Bruce would survive it.
The second query reminded Danny that there was someone else present who was also conscious. His head jerked up, tearing his eyes away from his gravely injured friend to fall on Tim.
Tim was clearly younger than the last time Danny had met him, possibly even the same age as Danny. He sat in a chair next to Bruce's bedside, a larger version of Duke's weird flat PDA in his lap, its screen lit up with a mile of text. The bags under his eyes hung heavy, suggesting he'd been sitting vigil here for some time.
"Hey, Tim. Sorry if I scared you."
Tim shrugged. "It's fine. Can't ever really be surprised when you pop up around Bruce."
"Huh, I guess it makes since you guys would always kinda expect me," Danny mused, a little disheartened by yet another way this predicament affected not just Bruce but his family. His eyes drifted back down to Bruce's sleeping form. "What happened?"
Across from him, Tim straightened out of his slump, his exhausted eyes alight with sudden interest.
"Bane happened," he said, with emphasis on the name that Danny didn't understand. Danny blinked dumbly back in the face of Tim's laser-focused stare. After a moment, Tim slumped back in his seat once more, the hope in his eyes extinguished. "You don't know who that is, do you?"
"Which means you haven't slipped ahead of this moment yet."
Danny frowned, knowing for a fact that he had definitely slipped ahead of this moment.
"...was there something you were hoping I could tell you?" Danny guessed. Tim nodded.
"Leslie, I don't know if you've met her, she's Bruce's doctor, she said…she said he might not walk again."
Danny sucked in a breath through his teeth. "And you wanted to know if she was right?"
"Yeah. I'm not allowed to just ask you that though," Tim explained with a put-upon pout. "'The timeline is fragile, Tim! Danny's situation is already precarious, we can't risk irrevocable consequences, Tim!'. Like Bruce has never taken something you've said and run with it!"
"To be fair to Bruce, that definitely went horribly wrong when he did."
"I know, trust me, I know. But would it really hurt to have a little hope?" Tim's eyes fell on Bruce, naked worry on his face. "I've seen him when he has no hope." Tim looked up at Danny, his blue eyes once again sharp and assessing. "You will too," he stated with unsettling certainty that Danny hadn't yet. "I don't want to see him go back there."
Danny worried his lip, considering. If Bruce as he knew him had always known Danny, had spent his whole life having Danny pop in and out, then it stood to reason that anything he did early in Bruce's life had already happened when he saw older Bruce. By that logic, he didn't think there would be any harm in giving Tim a bit of hope. It wasn't as if stating it would undo Bruce's eventual recovery.
When their entanglement had begun, Tucker had spent hours going over all the theories around time travel and its many potential paradoxes. By the time he'd relayed this to Danny, it was a bit late to take back anything Danny had already done, but Tucker had simply used the knowledge of what Danny had done to discount some theories and add weight to others. By now, Tucker was fairly confident that Danny was in an 'inevitable' time travel scenario; his actions in the past wouldn't change the future he had seen because as far as the future was concerned, his past actions had already happened, even though Danny himself hadn't been to the past yet.
It didn't mean Danny couldn't affect the future, more that he didn't know entirely how he had affected the future as he saw it.
"He won't," Danny settled on, "well, not because of this, at least." He offered Tim a hopeful smile. "I may not know who Bane is, but I know he'll recover. I promise."
"You're sure?" Tim asked with barely restrained hope.
"I've seen him schmoozing around a ballroom with grey hairs. He'll be okay."
Tim slumped again, though this time it was clearly relief instead of defeat.
"Thank you," he said quietly, "I know you're not supposed to tell us much, so, thank you."
"Don't sweat it. It helps me too, sometimes. Knowing no matter what craziness I slip into, he's gonna be okay."
Tim eyed Danny speculatively.
"You must have a lot of crazy stories about him, huh?"
"A few, and you're gonna have to work harder than that to get blackmail material outta me."
"Worth a shot." Tim shrugged, unrepentant.
With both their fears for Bruce assuaged, Danny's exhaustion returned and he fought to reopen his eyes with each blink. He indicated to the empty cot next to Bruce's.
"Mind if I get a couple hours shut-eye while I'm here? I was actually sleeping when I slipped here."
"Go ahead," Tim waved him off, lifting his PDA back up. "I can't imagine how annoying it would be to lose sleep to random bouts of time travel."
"Yeah, it's not the greatest," Danny agreed with a grimace, hopping up onto the other cot and getting comfortable. "You should get some sleep yourself."
"I…might have been napping in this chair when you got here."
"Then I bet your neck hates you. Find a bed to sleep in, I'll be here if Bruce wakes up."
Tim seemed to deliberate for a moment before nodding. "I guess you're right. I'm not much help just sitting here." He got to his feet, his limbs notably stiff. "I'll be back down in a few hours to wake you. G'night, Danny."
Tim had barely left the medbay before Danny was asleep once more.
He was woken a few hours later by Alfred, who was pleased to see him, but Bruce remained stubbornly unconscious. After a quick catch-up and light breakfast with Alfred, Danny slipped home with a squeeze of Bruce's hand.
Returning to his room, Danny lay in bed, trying to fall back asleep. The glowing face of his alarm clock stubbornly asserted it was 4am, despite his rested body's claims to the contrary. Instead of getting an extra long night's sleep like he'd hoped, Danny lay there staring at the stars on his ceiling, willing them to wipe away the image of Bruce laying battered and prone on death's door.
Bruce would be fine, Danny knew; he'd said as much to Tim. But that didn't stop the worry, nor the aching desire to help somehow. So as irrational as it was, it was a relief, the next time he slipped, to see Bruce whole and hale, standing tall and pacing next to his desk, an earpiece of some kind in one ear that he seemed to be talking to.
It took Danny less than a second of listening to realize that Bruce was probably on some boring business call, so he left him to it without bothering to reveal his presence. He took the opportunity to explore Bruce's mansion while he could, drifting invisibly through the rooms, feeling very much like a museum visitor as he inspected the antiques and experienced the harsh shifts between Old world extravagance and modern practicality.
The only other living souls he passed were Alfred and someone he assumed was a maid or housekeeper, largely based on their conversation around adjusting the cleaning schedule of certain rooms. He had explored most of the house without seeing anyone else, until he finally found the library.
Danny had to hold back an audible coo at seeing the little boy curled up with a pile of books. His small body was almost drowned by the ratty red hoodie he was wearing, a sharp contrast to the tall, broad man Danny knew he would grow into.
"Hey, Jason! What ya reading?"
Danny had maybe been trying to startle the boy in a harmless little prank. To his great surprise, Jason responded to his words like a threat, a knife appearing out of nowhere in his hand and striking out towards where he'd heard the voice. Danny backed up and dropped his invisibility, his hands up and open in surrender.
Jason was staring at him, wild-eyed, his body trembling with fear and tension, ready to spring at the first wrong move. Danny felt terrible. He hadn't meant to actually scare him. He'd clearly gotten far too used to the easy acceptance everyone in the manor had shown to his ghostly side, it hadn't occurred to him that a Jason this young might not have even been told about him yet, much less met him.
"I'm Danny!" he introduced himself hastily, "I'm sorry, I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise! I was just trying to be funny and was accidentally an asshole instead. I really am sorry!"
The shaking tip of Jason's knife got slightly steadier as Danny rambled his apologies, but Jason still looked one twitch away from stabbing and bolting.
"'the fuck do you want?" he grit out, not letting his guard down an inch.
"I…honestly, just to say hi? I'm sorry, I should have realized you hadn't met me yet."
"What are you, stupid? How the fuck would you not know if you'd met me?"
"Well, uh, because I have, actually. Met you, that is. You just haven't met me." Unfortunately, that seemed to be a terrible explanation as Jason's breathing sped up rapidly.
"The…the fuck are you talking about?" Jason asked between gasps, his mind clearly jumping to worst-case scenarios Danny couldn't even fathom. He could, however, recognise the symptoms of a panic attack.
"I kinda time travel?" Jason didn't appear to have heard him. "Damn it, I should get Bruce, he can help. I'll be right back, okay?" Danny didn't wait for an answer, he just flew off straight through the wall before he could put his foot any further into his mouth.
Bruce picked up on Danny's panic the moment he flew through the wall of his office.
"Sorry, Lucius, I'm gonna have to call you back," he said hastily before hanging up on his unfortunate colleague. "What happened?"
"IdunnoIsawJasonandIwasjustplayingbutwasaccidentlyadickandnowhesfreakingoutwhatdoIdo?" Danny babbled, tripping over his own tongue.
"Where?" Bruce's response was clipped and efficient.
"Okay. Stay here." With that, Bruce strode quickly out of the room.
Danny flopped dejectedly down onto the couch in Bruce's office, berating himself. How could he have gotten so complacent? At home, he was far more careful with his powers. But here, he'd let his guard down and forgotten a fundamental truth; people were scared of ghosts. Now he'd accidently traumatised a kid. It was a miracle that Jason would ever talk to him again.
He lay there for a while, contemplating the feasibility of smothering himself with the couch cushions, when a voice from the hallway startled him.
"Might I offer you a spot of tea, Master Danny?"
Danny sat up and attempted to look less sorry for himself.
Alfred stepped into the room, apparently prophetic as he was already carrying a tray with tea. Danny accepted the cup, gratefully mostly for the warmth of it in his hands.
"I hear you met Master Jason," Alfred stated, making Danny cringe into his teacup.
"Yeah, and immediately scared the crap out of him. I'm so stupid; of course he's gonna be scared if a ghost pops up right behind him!"
"Well, if that's the case, you are in good company. Both Master Bruce and myself have managed to scare the poor lad since he came here. Fear, I'm afraid, is likely what has kept him alive until now. So don't take it too much to heart, though I'm certain Master Jason would appreciate an apology."
"Yeah, I should do that." Danny agreed, staring into his tea as though he might divine the future in it's depths. "Alfred…have I ever scared you?"
The butler blinked, apparently taken aback by the question.
"I would say so, but perhaps not in the way you might expect. I take it you have not yet experienced our first meeting?"
Danny shook his head, curious yet dreading what Alfred might say.
"That day, I did not know you to be a ghost, only a stranger. I feared you not for myself, but for my young charge. The truth is that fear is a mundane thing. It is simply our subconscious minds alerting us to the possibility of danger. It is the work of our conscious minds to identify the reality from possibility. The reality is that you are no threat to us and the only time since our meeting that I have been afraid in your presence, it was because I feared for you.
Jason will learn that you aren't someone to be feared, just as I did. Don't you worry."
Danny sipped his tea, feeling warmed by it and by Alfred's words.
"I am dangerous, though," he admitted into his tea, hunching in on himself and carefully not looking at Alfred.
"Not to Jason, not to me, and certainly not to Master Bruce. In fact, by certain metrics, I'd wager that I'm far more dangerous than you."
Danny doubted that, and the clear scepticism on his face made Alfred chuckle.
"I wasn't always a butler, dear boy. As a young man, I was a soldier, and after that I was a spy. I have fought in wars of every variety and though I had no love for it, I was very, very good at it. You should fear me. Do you?"
Danny looked at him, truly looked at him; the kindly old man in his perfectly pressed uniform, his immaculate mustache and receding hairline, the small scars on his face so faint you wouldn't notice unless you really looked, the crooked cant of his fingers that suggested a few had been broken, the unflappable, unbreakable bearing that he brought to everything he did.
"No," Danny decided, because he couldn't look at Alfred without remembering him barely hesitate before taking Danny's grotesquely glitching form into his arms.
"I'm glad to hear it. And if I am not to be feared, then why on earth should you be?"
Danny couldn't really argue with that logic, even if a small part of him rebelled against it.
"I see your point," he admitted.
"That is all I ask," Alfred responded warmly.
The low sound of a throat being cleared drew their attention to the doorway, where Bruce stood, a small shadow glaring out from behind his legs.
"Oh, uh, hi again, Jason," Danny greeted him awkwardly, still huddled over his teacup trying to look as unintimidating as possible, "I really am sorry I scared you before."
Jason seemed to get a little bolder at that, shuffling further out from behind Bruce as he shrugged his shoulders."S'fine. Sorry I tried to stab you."
"It's cool; you didn't try to shoot me, at least, so you're doing better than most of my family," Danny offered with an encouraging smile. The thunderous looks on the other's faces told him he'd missed the mark by a mile.
"Dude, what the fuck?" Jason was far more direct than Alfred.
"Hn." Bruce's concerned growl sounded pained.
"It's fine!" Danny insisted hastily, "they didn't know it was me…mostly?"
"Danny-" Bruce began, but Danny cut him off.
"I promise, it's fine, it's just complicated. Like I said, they don't know it's me, they don't know I'm Phantom, they just think they're hunting a normal ghost."
"Your family…hunts you?" Bruce asked weakly. Danny groaned.
"You make it sound so much worse than it is. They're not good at it. Heck, my best friends have a better track record for taking me down than them!"
"Your friends are hunting you too?!" Jason exclaimed.
"No, there was mind-control involved…mostly."
"Master Danny, are you quite certain you're safe at home?"
"Yes!" Danny snapped through his teeth. "I am handling it! And besides, for you guys my life is in the past, so there's nothing you can do about it anyway, so just leave it alone!"
Silence followed Danny's outburst and he realised he was breathing hard.
"Okay, Danny," Bruce said finally, "we'll leave it alone."
Danny's shoulders slumped. "Thank you."
"Bruce says you have ice powers."
Danny blinked at Jason's non-sequiter, along with Bruce and Alfred.
"What?" Jason scowled. "You said drop it, so I'm dropping it. Ice powers, yes or no?"
"And it doesn't melt right? Not 'til you let it?"
"And you can shape it how you want?" Jason seemed to be getting a gleam in his eye, his earlier fear of Danny forgotten.
"Can you make me an ice knife?"
"C'mon, Bruce! This way if I try and stab him, he can just melt the knife," Jason wheedled.
"Ha, I like your logic, dude," Danny said, a smile forming on his face now the tension in the room had been thoroughly bled by Jason's juvenile request. Danny's hands slipped behind his back.
"We already talked about this, Jason. I know the knife makes you feel safer, but stabbing can't be your first reflex in a tense situation-"
"Here ya go, kid, have fun."
Danny dropped a child-sized knife of pure ice into Jason's excited hands and then clapped Bruce on the shoulder with a shit-eating grin. Bruce just sighed tiredly as Danny slipped out of sight, leaving him to deal with his newly-armed child who was already running off down the hallway.
