Danny holding the lantern ring: this shit is ugly as fuck
Hal: Why can't I Summon it back?!
The pickpocket
Hal: Why isn't coming back!? I can sense it! But it won't come back.
Meanwhile, Danny slaps the ring off his hand after the third time the thing launched itself onto his finger. Thankfully, his intangibility lets him smack his palm against his hand, like he's squishing a bug to get it off without hurting himself.
The ring hit Danny’s finger for the fourth time that afternoon. And for the fourth time, Danny slapped it off like it was a radioactive cockroach.
“Quit it!” he snapped, shaking out his hand. “I don’t need more powers—I barely manage the ones I have!”
The ring hovered in the air, humming with offended purpose.
You have been chosen.
“Nope. Absolutely not.” Danny backed away, palms raised. “I’ve been chosen enough times in my life, thanks.”
The ring launched itself again with a determined shwip. Danny phased; it passed through him; he batted it aside like a dodgeball. It hit a wall, wobbled indignantly, and went right back at him.
Above the alley, Hal Jordan hovered, increasingly panicked. “I can sense it—it’s right there—why isn’t it listening to me?!” he hissed, gripping the air like he could yank the ring back through sheer willpower.
Batman, on a nearby ledge, crossed his arms. “Because it wasn’t yours to begin with.”
“What does that even mean, you furry fuck???”
Down below, Danny grabbed the ring mid-lunge, holding it between two fingers like a cursed Cheerio.“That’s it. We’re done.” He swung his arm back. “Be gone from me, you clingy space parasite!”
And with the strength of someone who had absolutely hit his limit, Danny yeeted the Lantern ring straight into the sky.
It shot upward—past the rooftops, into the clouds, out of sight.
Hal stared. Speechless.
Batman said mildly, “Jordan, a teenager with ghost powers just threw your replacement ring into low orbit.”
Danny dusted off his hands and muttered as he walked away, “If one more magical object tries to adopt me, I’m filing a cosmic restraining order.”
:::
Hal stood before the Council, shoulders tense. The Guardians hovered, robes glowing, expressions identical blends of disapproval and cosmic dread.
“So,” one Guardian began, voice echoing, “you allowed the ring to be taken.”
“I didn’t allow anything,” Hal protested. “The kid didn’t steal it—the ring chose him.”
A ripple of alarm passed through the chamber.
“Impossible,” another Guardian said. “The new prototype rings do not choose without our approval.”
“Well,” Hal said, rubbing the back of his neck, “this one did.”
The Guardians stared at him, then at the ring floating innocently in containment.
The ring emitted a plaintive choooseeeen, vibrating like a lonely Roomba.
“And the candidate?” the eldest Guardian asked.
Hal winced. “Rejected the ring. Violently.”
Silence.
Then—
“He—he threw it?”
“He threw the ring?”
“Into space?”
“Does he understand what he rejected?”
“Does he understand the sacred significance—?”
“He called it,” Hal said reluctantly, “a ‘clingy space parasite.’”
Utter horror.
One Guardian actually clutched their chest.
Another fainted mid-hover.
“We must retrieve the child,” the eldest declared. “Someone who can overpower a power ring’s insistence is either a galactic threat—”
“Or,” another whispered, “the greatest Lantern of the age.”
Hal sighed. “Or he’s just a tired teenager with ghost problems.”
The ring, quivering in its field, whispered longingly: Choooseeeen…
:::
Danny was brushing his teeth when the bathroom mirror flickered neon green.
He froze.
Then a hologram burst out of the mirror—an ancient blue figure with giant eyes and robes that looked too expensive to touch.
“Greetings, new Lantern!” it boomed.
Danny spit toothpaste. “WHAT—NO—”
“You have demonstrated great willpower,” the projection continued, oblivious to his panic. “Your training begins immediately. Please refrain from physical violence toward your ring. It is deeply traumatized.”
Danny stared.
The hologram flickered. “To begin, please recite the Oath.”
“No?” Danny said, voice cracking. “What part of I threw it into space did the ring not understand?!”
The hologram ignored him. “In brightest day—”
Danny slapped at the light like it was a bug. His hand phased through it.
“STOP,” he groaned. “I’m not joining your intergalactic Boy Scout troop!”
“…in blackest night—”
“I HAVE SCHOOL TOMORROW!”
The projection paused as if buffering.
“Student… obligations detected. Recalculating assignment. You will be contacted soon.”
Danny slumped against the sink. “Please don’t.”
The hologram vanished.
From somewhere in his backpack, muffled but unmistakable:
chooooseeeen…
Danny covered his face with both hands. “Leave me alone,” he whispered, “I just want to be a normal half-dead teen.”
Red Robin knocked the futuristic gun out of the perpetrator’s hands but not before it fired into the fight and hit Robin square in the chest. There was a rush of chaos and confusion immediately following. Nightwing takes the unconscious teen into his arms and retreats while the rest of the bats take down the rest of the thugs with brutal efficiency.
Red Hood and Spoiler stay behind to question the criminals and do some more investigating while Red Robin examines the gun used.
It’s hours later, with Robin still unconscious in the Batcave medbay, they figure out it’s an alien device originally used to find others of the same endangered race. Frankly, it didn’t at all explain why Damian was still unconscious, or why he fell unconscious to begin with. From the research they found, it shouldn’t physically alter or affect the individual. Which leads them to believe the device had been tampered with.
Tensions were high. Answers were scarce. Doubts were increasing as well as fear and anger.
It came to a head almost twenty-four hours later when Damian violently wakes up.
From one moment to the next, the teen goes from being completely unaware to gasping awake. Dick, who had been by his side through this ordeal, is so startled he shouts in surprise. He jumps from his seat to keep Damian from hurting himself as the boy thrashes in the bed.
Tim comes running in from where he was stationed at the Bat computer to see Damian screaming and struggling against their older brother’s calming hands. The heart monitor is going ballistic and if Damian keeps flailing he’ll rip out his IV.
“Tim!”
He already knows what Dick wants and dashes toward the medicine cabinet for a sedative. It doesn’t take long for the drug to do its job with Dick holding down Damian.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. I got you. I got you,” Dick reassures as Damian loses his strength and sags into the bed.
Tim is already texting Bruce about the situation, not wanting to leave Dick by himself.
“What was that?” Tim asks out loud.
He had never seen Damian act like that except for when he got fear gassed. They had run every test they could think of when he came in, he was clean.
Dick is running his fingers through Damian’s hair soothingly even though the teen is out of it.
“I don’t know. Something’s off.”
They only gave him a small dose, but Damian is out for another six hours. In that time they had ran all the tests again to find nothing abnormal and Jason had pulled in about four hours in to park his butt at the work bench to clean his weapons in front of Bruce and within hearing distance.
When Damian wakes again, it’s sluggish from the drugs. He blinks and groans. Dick is at his side immediately.
“Hey, Baby Bat. How you feeling?”
Damian pulls at the cushioned restraints around his wrists. The teen wrinkles his brows in confusion and looks down.
“You want them off? The first time you woke up you almost ripped your IV out,” Dick explains as he carefully unlatches the Velcro.
“Oh,” Damian mumbles and then thinks about the words. “What?”
Bruce walks through the door. Jason lingers in the doorway peering in to check on the kid.
“There you are. You had us worried,” Bruce says. He stands at the side of the bed to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder while his eyes scan the monitors.
“Sorry.”
That got their attention.
“‘Sorry’?” Jason asks incredulously as he pushes off the doorway to stand at the end of the bed. “Since when have you ever apologized for anything?”
“Jason,” Dick hushes. “He just woke up. Give him a break.”
Damian rubs his free wrists as he looks around at them and the room. The longer they watch him they can see the lack of recognition in his eyes.
“What- what happened?”
Dick and Jason give each other a look at the stutter, but it’s Bruce that responds.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Damian looks down in thought, a hand coming up to fiddle with the IV site. Dick reaches over to pull his hand away. Surprisingly, Damian lets him.
“Um, I was- I was-… sorry,” he says in frustration.
“That’s okay. Take your time.”
Damian rubs at his face in a nervous mannerism he’s never shown before.
“I think I was doing homework? I- There’s this stupid project in history class that’s due in like two weeks and I’ve been procrastinating,” Damian shrugs.
Damian hadn’t once mentioned a history project.
He looks up at Bruce.
“Did I pass out or something?”
Bruce squeezes his shoulder before letting it drop. Dick was right, something is wrong.
“First, can you tell me your identification code?”
Dick shoots him a look that he ignores.
Damian blinks up at him.
“My what?”
Tension immediately seeps into everyone present.
“Your identification code, Dami, you remember it, right?” Dick pushes.
Damian turns to him in confusion.
“What are you talking about?”
“Did he hit his head when he went down?” Jason demands. He turns to Bruce. “I thought you checked for a concussion!”
Damian actually shrinks away from the aggressive tone. Bruce raises a hand for silence. He bends to get eye level with the teen.
“Do you know where you are?”
Damian glances around with cautious eyes.
“…The hospital?”
Dick puts a hand over his mouth in disbelief. Damian sends him a look.
“Not the hospital?”
“No,” Jason answers. “Not the hospital.”
“Do you know who I am?” Bruce asks next.
Damian studies him too closely, looking for context clues. It didn’t leave a lot of confidence.
“My… doctor?”
Dick stands abruptly to pace.
“What is happening?” He demands to no one.
“That’s what I want to know,” Damian chimes in.
“Damian,” Bruce calls to get his attention. “Damian, look at me.”
The teen turns to him in bewilderment.
“Who’s Damian?”
That question freezes them.
“What?” Jason asks. “Who the- If you’re not Damian, who are you?”
“Me? Who are you?”
Dick intervenes with raised hands. He approaches the bed like the teen is a scared animal.
“Okay. We’re starting over. Hi. I’m Dick. What’s your name?”
Not-Damian looks him up and down suspiciously.
“I’m Danny. Fenton. Danny Fenton. You- I thought you called me by my name earlier?”
Dick thinks back and gives a tight smile. “I said ‘Dami’, short for Damian, not Danny.”
Danny slumps back into the bed. “Oh.”
“We’ll figure this out, kiddo. Don’t worry-“
Bruce’s phone rings with an unknown number. He glances at the teen and shows him the screen.
“Do you recognize this number?”
“Yea, it’s mine,” Danny confesses.
Bruce puts it on speaker.
“Damian.”
“Father, it seems I’ve switched bodies with a civilian,” comes the voice.
“Wait, what?” Danny pats himself down. “Switched bodies?!”
Danny wakes up in a cage in the Batcave as a human and thinks to himself “well that’s not a good sign.”
Big bad bat encountered him in the caves near the Batcave by finding him half dunked in the Lazarus pits under Gotham during a routine check. He put the boy in a cage as a precaution, but was otherwise planning on investigating then returning him to his rightful place.
Danny does not know that.
He proceeds to search his pockets (phase his hand into his body disguised as reaching into his pockets) and pulls out a tool kit, systematically disassembles, exits, then reassembles the cage.
And walks out.
Now the bats are hunting the streets for this engineering escape artist while Danny is just hanging out at a newsstand reading up on the universe Clockwork had sent him to check out.
"Woah! What happened here?" Duke gasps from the staircase. He is wearing his school uniform, but upon checking his backpack, he realizes his chemistry textbook is missing, likely somewhere in the Batcave after his latest monitor duty.
He had been multitasking by shooting out questions to the rest of the bats as they patrolled. Due to an injured wrist, Duke had been benched from his regular day shift (Jason offered to cover for him), and watching screens had been the only way Bruce had been willing to let him participate.
That quickly became boring, however, since Oracle was much faster than he was, and Duke had a tough time focusing on screens. He's never been one to enjoy too much screen time - he didn't have the attention span for it.
This meant that Duke had not been in the cave for the past three nights, after he struck a deal with Bruce to let him catch up on some much-needed rest instead, provided he could continue his civilian work during the day.
Imagine his surprise to find the Batcave in disarray, with almost everything taken apart, piece by piece, including the Batcomputer and the dinosaur. Bruce, Damian, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Cass were currently attempting to gather the pieces and reassemble everything, which seemed hard given all the little pieces that had shattered about.
"Some kid with a screwdriver," Jason grunted, holding up various nails towards the light. In front of the anti-hero were five distinct piles of nails and bolts, each separated by type and size, which he carefully sorted from a large bucket.
"What?"
Tim looked up from a mountain of wires, some of which were dropped over his shoulders, around his head, and a few were entangled with his leg, as he tried to untangle everything. He looked as crazed as he did the year he decided he was going to put up all the Christmas lights by himself, only to realize how large Wayne Manor really was. "Two nights ago, we found a civilian unconscious in cave sector T-Y13. He was practically radioactive with Lazarus pits water, so Bruce had the bright idea to put him in a cage as a precaution. The civillain woke up while Bruce was away so he couldn't explain that he was not kidnapped, realized he was in a cage, and deassimbled it with a tool set he pulled from his ass-"
"Tim. Laugauge" Dick scolds, leanign over metal tubes to cover Damian's ears. The twelve-year-old huffs, but doesn't shake off Dick's hands as he stares at a different buckets of lightbults, sorting them like Jason was doing to the nails.
It was a little darker than what Duke was used to.
"-And then, he decided to reassemble the cage once he was out." I'm continuing as if he weren't interrupted, nodding his head to the only part of the cave that looked normal. The contamination unit seemed to shine in the untouched spotlights. "Then the civilian thought he was going to take apart everything in the cave. He systematically disassembled everything and mixed up the pieces. The only things he left alone were the railings!"
"It's pretty impressive," Bruce praises. He was checking over technology boards with a critical eye. A headlight strapped to his forehead shines brightly on the pieces as he smiles. "I wonder where he is now."
"If he has any brains, he's probably applying for a position with a pit crew in NASCAR," Cass laughs, picking up different boards of metal. "He took the whole place apart in less than twenty minutes."
"He even got the Batpens" Dick sighs. "Why was he so passive-aggressive about pulling out the pen's springs?"
"If I woke up in a cage, after unfair imprisonment, I would also cause my captors as much chaos as possible," Damain comments casually. "We are lucky he decided to leave nothing harmful behind."
"He just took everything else!" Steph's voice calls out from a dark patch of the cave. Duke knows it's in the direction of the showers and the changing room. "Does anyone see any shower heads over there? The kid took them off every shower!
"I have one!" Cass calls back, holding up an item in her hand. "Are any pipes missing? There are five long metal cylinders that I can't figure out what they are for."
"No, he left the pipes along, but I think he took the mirrors and the doors."
"Which door?" Bruce yells back. There is a moment of silence before Steph replies.
"All of them! "
"Of course. That's what these ones are for." Jason says in an Ah-ha voice, holding up a few black bolts. "They're the ones from the shower heads!"
Duke stares, then sighs. He lets his backpack slide off his shoulders, landing on the stairs with a thump. Looks like he's calling in sick to school again.
Rolling up his sleeves, he moves over to Cass and helps her lift the long cylinders she had mentioned. "Do we know anything about this civilian?"
"Before he took the Batcomputer apart, we were able to get that he wasn't in any of the local government records. He isn't from Gotham or this state." Bruce says while carefully placing pieces back on a large computer board with a pair of tweezers. "My guess, he's not going to be in any system, either."
"Why?"
Bruce looks up, his eyes shining. "His DNA matched eighty-five percent with Themyscira's genetic make-up. No proof of cloning either. We may just have a genius male Themysciran on our hands."
Duke didn't like how excited Bruce sounded when he made that statement. He opens his mouth to snap, "You can't adopt him, Bruce!"
It's validating that his voice wasn't the only one that said it, but that it echoed by literally everyone else in the cave. Bruce purses his lips but doesn't agree or disagree with the accusation as he turns back to his computer board.
Duke hears him mutter under his breath, but he's too far away to figure out what he said. "
How long do you think this will take us to put back together? He asks Cass as they compare metal pieces- he's holding a triangle-looking thing that he can't figure out where it came from.
She kicks aside a circular metal slate, raising a brow at him, then nodding her head toward the left side of the cave. Duke turns to look in the direction of the third Robin, who was wiggling around.
"What are you!?" Tim screams at a blue wire, shaking it like he was strangling someone's neck. Somehow, in the time Duke looked away from him, Tim had his right arm tied to his left knee, with a red wire thread running through his shirt, and his right leg was no longer visible because the rest of the wire pile had consumed it.
"Oh, so it's going to be a few hours," Duke sighs as Cass nods sadly.
"Does anyone have any eyes on the light switches?" Dick yells out. "Damian and I almost have all the pieces to turn the lights back on."
"Oh gods -He took the lockers!" Steph screams in angst. "I had a snack stash in there!"
Bruce telling this story to Diana later, to ask about any nephews she might know about? Is going to get him so very laughed at. As well as a slap on the back of the head. What sort of fool chooses a cage when they have perfectly good isolation rooms!!
The isolation rooms had been gutted for updates to the security measures (like upgrading the super strength resistant and/or phase proof materials as well as the observation equipment) and the cage was literally supposed to be a temporary - like hour max - measure in case he woke up while they were putting one of those rooms back together.
Which is, of course, exactly when something must happen to pull Batman out of the cave for an unexpected while.
Also, cage is probably a bit unfairly unspecific. It wouldn't have been like an animal cage. More like a wrestling cage match cage. A decently sized area of the cave that had been securely caged off as a temporary holding area.
Still a cage of course. Entirely fair to wake up there and be immediately sus; escape as fast as possible. Especially given that Danny is from a different universe here and therefore would have no knowledge of things like heroes and vigilantes. (Although even knowing about them might have only made Danny more inclined to get out and away.)
Diana: I do not believe that excuse for one minute! You have multiple rooms set aside. At least two rates to contain super powered beings. Tell me the real reason you put the Poor boy in a cave!!
Bruce does not have any good excuse beyond he wanted to be able to keep a close eye on him in case he had an adverse reaction to the pit chemistry. But he knows Diana will still point out isolation rooms are also good for that. No, his general over preparedness is his undoing this time.
Side note, Danny absolutely made off with at least 16 random knuts and bolts. The batfam are going to be going crazy trying to find them when he just had them in his pocket. Probably took a handful of wires as well. Damian is impressed at the lengths the older teen went to for petty vengeance. He is implementing this against his grandfather in future.
Duke after about 30 minutes: Why are we doing this? *loudly* Hey Bruce!
*everyone looks up*
Why. Are. Weeeeeeee. *makes hand motions at ALL of them* doing this? You can sweep everything unimportant off this chasm edge and buy a whole new cave. Even the damn dinosaur, the coolest thing in here. There I said it!
Bruce looks up laughing. 32 minutes. You pass. Everyone else has to help set up the new cave when it arrives. Duke, you get to hang out with Alfred while he makes your choice for meals until everything is fixed down here.
Bruce then goes back to stacking computer memory in the corner. Going to be a long night.
*he pushes his earbud intercom* Alfred, Duke won. *pause* 32 minutes, 42 seconds. *Sure he'll be right up. Gonna be a long night of, "dump this off the chasm, including the dinosaur" *pause as Bruce smiles* yeah, he did. Can you get us some coffee? *pause* yeah, Tim's good stuff. Thank you Alfred.
Then he goes back to work like nothing os going on behind him. *cricket stares from EVERYONE else*
If you find the computer boards from any of the vehicles let me know. They were hard to source, and I've had new ideas that Lucius has been quietly working on.
Aquaman, Aqualad, Mera, and any other underwater hero’s and creatures don’t exist in this.
||-→ I tried to make each pov a different style of writing ||
There was something so captivatingly beautiful about observing the humans from below the surface, as they went about their daily lives, traversing the Metro-Narrows Bridge. The elders had always warned you to keep your distance from the world above, but you couldn't resist sneaking glances at the peculiar, moving metal boxes zooming across the streets, or the striking figures donning vibrant spandex who soared through the skies at night.
The bridge, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon, cast an ethereal light across the water of the river. This sight, enhanced by the night, would always catch your attention, especially when they appeared. Moving in and out of the shadows, darting around or simply standing on the railing, lost in their own worlds.
You had grown fond of observing them as they soared through the night sky, reminiscent of the graceful movements of swans. Their elegance was effortless, seemingly defying gravity as they traversed the air. It was in those moments, watching the sky people glide past, that you were struck by the rawness of their beauty.
You never dared to come too close to the surface during the day, the haunting tales from your pod serving as a constant reminder of the horrors that existed above the water. But the night was a different story; it’s when you were more willing to take risks. The darkness provided the perfect cover, shrouding you in obscurity as the humans slept.
Though you supposed that the real reason you continued to venture up to the surface was because it was the time that they emerged, gliding through the air and gracefully traversing the buildings. Their shadows, illuminated by the silvery light of the moon, seemed to dance in perfect harmony with the night. Always seeming to captivate your attention in a way that no underwater creatures could.
However, on this particular night, you noticed something out of the ordinary. One of the usually lively land creatures was sluggish and listless, moving with none of the fluid grace that you had come to admire. A deep crimson liquid seeped through the fabric of his suit, spattering across the spandex and staining it a dark, ominous hue.
You cautiously approached the surface, swimming closer than you had ever dared to before. Slowly, you emerged, peering just above the water's edge.
You couldn’t see the human clearly, obscured as he was by the sizable drop between the bridge and the water below, but the scent he carried was undeniable. There was something utterly alluring about his aroma. It was a stark contrast to the familiar scents of salt and oil you were used to underwater. You haven't come across anything even remotely similar to it before.
The land dweller was undeniably beautiful.
A loud crash shattered the silence, jolting your attention back to reality. Your gills flared out in alarm, and in your surprise, the soft bioluminescent glow of your tail dimmed down, a natural response to the potential threat.
You backed away, submerging yourself down into the safety that the depths of the water provided. Your gaze fixating on the figure in the distance, decorated in his familiarly vibrant red and yellow attire. This one hastily making his way to the blue-clad human's side, concern decorated across his face, his actions imbued with urgency. Mask torn from his face.
With a heavy sigh, you turned your back from the scene unfolding above, releasing a flurry of bubbles that rose to the surface. Your pods stern warnings echoing in your mind, a constant reminder of the dangers that lay in the world above.
You make it no more than fifteen feet before a thunderous splash shatters the silence, the seawaters ripples rolling across your skin and triggering an involuntary shiver, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your tail instinctively sprung into action, propelling you back with a rapid, powerful flick.
With a sudden movement, your arms encircled the man's sinking frame, securing a firm grip on his sides. Your eyes widening in shock at the contact, your webbed fingers digging into his flesh, anchoring him in place.
For a moment, you paused, studying him. Your eyes absorbing every little detail. From the man's soft, almost spongy flesh under your touch, how soft and almost squishy his land dwelling arms were, how they seemed to just give way to the touch of your webbed fingers. Then to the way the baby blue suit of his that clung to him, was torn and tattered, ripping away underwater. Your gaze lingering on the deep red liquid seeping out of his torso, staining his skin and leaving a trail of ominous scarlet. And then, your gaze travelled to the two bizarre, elongated limbs extending from his waist. A stark contrast to the streamlined grace of your own tail.
His lips parted, releasing a stream of bubbles, each one ascending to the surface before vanishing from sight. You watched as his body suddenly went limp in your arms, reminding you of the dire situation you had inadvertently involved yourself in. With a powerful flick of your tail, you swiftly propelled yourself to the surface, bringing him up so that he could breathe. Your gills flared out, working overtime to filter oxygen from the water while you waited, your hearts hammering in your chest.
When the human made no attempt to improve, limp and unresponsive, you couldn't suppress the deep hiss that escaped from the back of your throat. Your grip tightening around his frame, your tail coiled tighter around his legs, an attempt to stabilise and bring some form of response from him. Your eyes grew large in desperation as you shook him back and forth, each movement growing more frantic with the passing seconds.
You directed your attention to the deep red liquid that was oozing out of his abdomen, its thick, almost oily consistency spreading out in little waves around you in the water. Coming out in shallow pulses. You tilted your head slightly, noting that the fluid's flow didn't seem natural. It felt wrong, a gut feeling of sorts. You hastily reached for the pouch tethered to your hip, pulling out a woven bundle of seaweed and a salve prepared by the elders of your pod.
You delicately began to layer the salve over the gaping wound, taking care to press the woven seaweed into the lesion. The salve, a rich green and purple, had a cooling effect as it made contact with the human's skin. A crucial aspect due to its high iodine content, which helps to close the large gash. As the ointment came into contact with the blood, it began to congeal and bind the tissue together, halting the bleeding.
However, you were acutely aware of the human, who remained unresponsive. His chest, which should've been rising and falling with each inhale, lay still. A sudden panic clutched at your hearts, threatening to overwhelm you. You weren't sure what the proper human anatomy was, but it was abundantly clear that he needed to breathe.
You placed a webbed hand on his chest, the flesh there surprisingly firm. You pushed down, then up again, attempting to mimic the breathing motions you had seen him and others do. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pleaded for him to respond, a silent mantra running through your head. With urgency, you placed a firm grip on the back of his neck, tilting his head back, the gills on your neck flaring out to pull in as much oxygen as they could. Your tail coiling tightly around his waist to keep him afloat.
Despite the pressure you exerted, there was no response from him. His chest remained still, no signs of life. Your breath hitched at the sight, a sense of desperate desperation washing over you. You were frantically trying to keep his head tilted back while the water was washing over his face, the cool liquid creating small ripples that mirrored the urgency of the moment. His body remained motionless, unresponsive to your frantic attempts. You could feel the pressure building in your own chest, your gills working overtime to extract oxygen.
In a final, desperate attempt, you lean in closer, positioning yourself to allow your webbed fingers to forcibly pry open his parted lips. You took in a deep breath and expelled it through the opening, pushing every ounce of air you could manage into his unresponsive lungs.
You repeated the action multiple times, exerting every ounce of effort to force air into his trachea. Each breath, heavy and laboured. You finally pulled back, allowing yourself a moment of respite. Your breaths came out ragged and sharp, a stark contrast to the steady, undisturbed water around you.
As he remains unresponsive, his body frighteningly limp, your body goes slack, a wave of disappointment washing over you. Reluctantly, you release your grip on him and let him go, his body now floating eerily close to yours. You close your eyes tight, trying to swallow the lump in your throat that was rapidly forming.
You flinch at the sudden and unexpected contact, your eyes fluttering open. An alarmed hiss escaped once again through your lips, more out of surprise than anything else. Just as you were about to submerge yourself underwater, a firm hand grasped your shoulder, its grip strong and unwavering.
"Y-you're...alive.", you stuttered out, a mixture of disbelief and awe laced in your raspy voice. The hand on your shoulder felt firm and real, a stark contrast to the nightmarish scenario you had just been a part of.
“Nightwing?” Red Robin's voice cuts through the quiet night, bouncing off the empty alleyways. Frustrated, he takes off his comms, readjusting them to try again for the sixth time in the last ten minutes.
"Dick, come in," he practically growls out, tapping on his device with a little more force than necessary.
“Where the hell are you?” he mutters, staring up at the tall buildings. Dick’s always late, but this was getting ridiculous. With a sigh, he leans back against the wall, crossing his arms as he waits.
A low, familiar voice crackles on the other end of the comms. “Stalker.”
Tim rolls his eyes, recognising the voice immediately. It was too late in the night to put up with him. “Jason.” he sighs, “What do you want. Have you heard from Dick?”
“Not a word.” The response is curt, and the annoyance in Jason’s voice is obvious. He rarely joined in their patrols, preferring to stick to his own methods of dealing with things.
Tim lets out a frustrated huff, tapping his fingers impatiently against his arm. Of course Dick would pick now to go radio silent.
He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment to let out a frustrated groan. He was stressed enough as it is, none of this was helping.
“You’re patrolling the Narrows?” Jason’s voice breaks through Tim’s thoughts, pulling him back to reality. He looks around, taking in the surroundings with a frown. The Narrows was never a good place to be alone.
“Yeah.” he responds, not taking his eyes off of the shadows. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to know, Dick’s nowhere to be seen. In or out of uniform.”
There’s a pause on the other end, and Tim can practically hear the smirk in Jason’s voice.
“Need backup?” he offers, amusement clear in his tone. The elder boy mocking him.
Tim scowls, shaking his head even if he knew Jason couldn’t see him. “No.” he replies curtly. “I’m not a child, I can handle this myself.”
“Sure, kid.” Jason’s response is just as dismissive. “I’ll come check on you in a bit anyway. Make sure you haven’t gotten your ass kicked.”
Tim’s scowl deepens at Jason’s reply, not appreciating the offer of help — or the nickname. “I don’t need a babysitter.” he grumbles. “I’m going to find Dick, and I don’t need your help.”
There’s a pause, and Tim can practically hear the eye roll from Jason. “Whatever you say, Replacement. I’ll be there soon.”
“No—” Before Tim can protest, the comms go silent. Damn it, Jason.
He lets out a frustrated sigh, biting at the inside of his cheek. The last person he needed to see right now was Jason. The last time he’d come face to face with the man, things didn’t go so well.
Tim grits his teeth and pushes himself off of the wall. He had better things to do than get into a fight with his older brother. Like finding his other older brother.
With a huff, Tim starts walking, making his way through the narrow alleys of the Narrows. It’s quiet, eerily so, and his instincts are on high alert.
Everything feels off. The air is still, and he can’t shake the feeling of being watched. His breath stutters in his chest, but he pushes the feeling down. He had work to do.
“Dick?” he calls out, his headset’s blinking green light signalling the message going through. He glances around cautiously as he moves. “Nightwing, come in. Can you hear me?”
There’s no response, and Tim tries again. Nothing but static. His shoulders tense, the unease growing in the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t like Dick. The man was always on top of communication.
Tim continues forward, his footsteps quick and light. He keeps his eyes scanning the shadows around him, but the silence is deafening. Where the hell is he?
A muffled crunch breaks the silence, and the boy freezes, his breath hitching. It was faint, coming from somewhere off the alley in front of him. His heart rate quickens, and he carefully shifts on his feet, trying to pinpoint the source.
There was something across the street. Someone.
Tim squints, his eyes trying to make out what it was. It was too dark to tell. Damn it, why can’t Dick be here to deal with this..
He’s too used to working in a team, having the security of someone else there to watch his back. The someone’s in question usually being Batman or Nightwing.
He steels himself, slipping into a fighting stance and taking slow steps forward. He can’t let his guard down, not now.
As he moves, the shape across the street shifts. It’s still far away, but from the size and height, he could tell it was definitely a figure.
His comms device beeps, startling the boy and nearly causing him to stumble. He quickly scrabbles to check it, hoping for some sort of answer or communication.
“Red.” Jason’s voice comes through, static breaking up some of the message. The device was clearly reaching a limit. “Can you hear me? Dick’s in trouble.” The voice, as crackling as it was over the broken comms, sounded dishevelled and panted. Jason rarely called for help.
With a final glance at the figure across the street, Tim’s eyes flicker back down to the comms in his hand. Jason found him.
“Where are you?” he asks, not wasting a second as he sets off at a sprint. He didn’t care what kind of trouble Nightwing had gotten into, he just needed to get there.
“Don’t worry about me. Get to Metro-Narrows Bridge.”
The urgency in Jason’s voice has Tim’s heartbeat racing. He doesn’t question it, just continues sprinting. He knew the bridge, and knew it was far.
“...” he grits his teeth. “I’m on my way.”
Tim hits the wall with a pained gasp, eyes squeezed shut as he doubles over coughing at the impact. His vision swims. Shit.
He lets out a sharp gasp, the breath knocked out of him as he’s smashed against the hard bricks. The pain doesn’t have time to register, as his mind is sent into a panicked frenzy.
He sucks in a low breath, trying to clear his head and figure out what the hell just happened. There’s a shuffle of feet, and the distinct sound of metal being unsheathed.
The attack was too precise, too sudden. He grunts, trying to push himself back away from the wall, but a large hand keeps him pinned.
His head finally stops swirling, and he can focus on the large figure in front of him. Not good.
He’s a towering wall of a man, arms bigger than Tim’s head. He’s muscular, clearly built like a brawler. The metal that had unsheathed was a knife, the sharp, gleaming blade being held firmly in the man’s large hand.
“No more running.” the man growls, his other hand still keeping Tim pinned against the wall.
Tim glared up at him.
He’s been in situations similar to this before. He’s fought and won against opponents bigger than him, more experienced than him. He needed to stay calm, and assess the situation.
With a pained grunt, he pushes against the man’s arm, struggling to break free. The man just leans closer, his breath hot in Tim’s face.
The smell of smoke and old alcohol fills Tim’s nose, making him want to retch as the man sneers at him. “Struggle all you want, kid.” he drawls. “You’re coming with me one way or another..” Tim clenches his jaw.
He analyses the situation quickly. His equipment was in his belt, but pinned tight against the wall left him with very little mobility. He had to find a way to get away swiftly, before the man could do him any serious harm.
Tim’s mind races, trying to work out a way to get himself out of this. He’s too close quarters to the man, and any attempt to get away would lead to him getting a knife in his gut.
The man’s grip tightens, making him gasp as the knife is held closer to his skin. His eyes darted around, searching for anything useful. He would have to time this right. “Stop squirmin.’” The man’s gruff voice rang out.
Tim ignores him, grunting as he struggles against the hand pinning him. There had to be something he could use to—
A gleam of something metal catches his eye, and he glances down, spotting a metal pipe sticking out of an open garbage bin. It wasn’t much, but it might be enough.
Tim takes in a shallow breath, his mind racing for a second. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, trying to keep the man talking and distracted.
“Don’t try any shit, sidekick.” He tightened his hold on the boy, using his other hand to get out a walkie-talkie from the pouch on his chest.
Sidekick? Tim’s teeth gritted, a spark of anger flaring up in the back of his mind. He wasn’t just a sidekick.
Tim’s eyes glance down again at the pipe, trying to calculate his next move. He watched as the man brought the walkie-talkie up to his mouth, his heart rate increasing as he prepared to act.
“I got a bird out here,” the man grunted into the device, keeping his eyes fixed on Tim. “Found him in the-“
He barely had time to react before Tim acted. With a sudden burst of strength, he jerks forward, wrenching himself free from the man’s grip. He immediately drops down, grabbing the metal pipe and brandishing it like a weapon. Flinging it into the man’s hand that held the radio. The impact caused him to drop it, as he let out a cry of pain, stumbling back.
Tim didn’t hesitate. He quickly used the momentary opening of shock and pain to his advantage, striking the man hard in the stomach with the pipe. The man grunted, his hand instinctively going to where he’d been hit.
He wasn’t about to give the thug any time to recover. He brought up a leg and kicked out fast, nailing him hard in the knee. The man yelled out again, staggering back.
He raged, stumbling forward and landing one hard punch against Tim’s face.
The younger boy’s head snapped to the side from the hit, the force of it knocking his mask askew, cracking and splitting as he reeled back. His vision swims from the impact, but he can taste the distinct taste of blood in his mouth.
He stumbled back, bringing a hand up to his face and cursing, blood seeping down his face.
His head hurt. A lot. That one hit had left him dizzy, and his cheek stung like hell.
The pain is enough to clear his mind though, and he refocuses on the man in front of him. His lip is split, and his cheek feels like it’s on fire. His mask hangs half off of his face.
Tim grits his teeth, glaring at the man with a new found fire in his eyes. He wasn’t going to let some random thug take him out.
The perpetrator lets out a huff, spitting out a glob of blood onto the floor next to him. An ugly sneer plastered his face, and he stepped forward, reaching down for the knife that had been discarded on the ground. “You little shit.” he spat. “I’ll make you pay for that.”
His eyes flickered down to the knife held flimsily in his hand. He needed to get out of this. The man was bigger and definitely stronger, but obviously nowhere near as experienced as Tim was. He’s surprised that the thug had even managed to get in a decent hit to his face.
His mind is too preoccupied, caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts, and he fails to notice the man’s approach until the moment he's already upon him. The thug's fury makes him careless and ill-prepared, the sound of his stumbling footsteps betraying his presence due to the injury on his knee.
Tim quickly raises his arm instinctively, attempting to shield himself as the man’s towering frame comes charging at him. He’s tackled to the ground in a single swift move, the impact crushing his ribs against the concrete floor.
His back hits the ground, the air getting knocked out of him for the second time that night. The man’s weight pinned him to the ground, the air leaving his lungs in a loud gasp as he struggled.
The man had the knife clutched in his hand, the gleam of the blade reflecting the lights of the city as it was raised up, aimed to strike.
Drake nearly sneered at the sight. He’s an amateur. Over confident in himself and relying solely on force.
Tim’s eyes darkened, his glare locked on the man above him. He was not going to be defeated by some two-bit mugger.
He kicked out at the man, aiming for his still injured knee. The man grunted as he took the kick, shifting off balance for just a second.
It was enough of an opening for Tim to react. He pushed up on the man, using the momentum to roll them both over, switching their positions and taking the top. He wasted no time in smashing the man’s head against the ground, knocking him out stone cold. Blood pooling down against the pavement.
He paused, breathing heavily as he stared down at the man. His lip stung as blood still trickled down his face, the adrenaline in his system beginning to wear off.
Tim sat there for a moment, letting out a hiss of pain as he lifted a hand and gently touched his split lip. He gingerly moved his fingers through his hair, grimacing as he felt the beginnings of a bruise on the side of his face.
Dick was still in trouble. That was the thought at the front of his mind, the reason he was out here and why he had to get to that bridge.
With a wince, Tim pushed himself up, staggering for a moment as a wave of nausea passed over him. He was pretty sure he’d developed a minor concussion from being thrown into the wall.
Everything ached, and his body was screaming at him to just stay down. He ignored it. Nightwing was his priority.
He swayed for a moment, his vision going white around the edges as his head spun, before he managed to stay standing and start moving again.
He didn’t think, he just ran.
He’s still panting as his feet hit the concrete, his body protesting the movement. The nausea from his concussion was becoming very real, and he had to stop to take a deep breath to steady himself.
Fuck, he was going to throw up, wasn’t he?
Tim bit his tongue and started running again, forcing himself to push on and ignore the pain. He had to keep moving.
The cold, night air hurt his lungs, but he didn’t stop. Not even as the pain from the beating began to make itself known with each hard footstep against the concrete. He had to get to the bridge.
He kept going at a brutal pace, ignoring how his vision swam and how every breath he took just made him feel like he needed to puke.
He’s not sure how long he had ran, his mind focused entirely on just moving. One foot in front of the other, he just kept going.
As he rounded the corner, he noticed the bridge in the distance. His eyes widening, watching Dick stagger back against the railings edge.
Tim stumbled for a moment, but pushed himself back up, keeping himself moving forward. He could barely see straight, but nothing else mattered. Nightwing’s tall and dark silhouette was leant against the night light of the bridge. Even from a distance, he could see the blood on Dicks skin, staining the side of his face, his suit’s front ripped open, a large gash in his abdomen pooling out onto the ground.
Tim’s speed quickens, every muscle in his body crying in protest but he continues on. All he could focus on was the sight of Nightwing. In the low light, he could see Dick’s shoulders moving with each heavy breath, looking seconds away from collapsing.
In a desperate attempt to save his mentor, Tim lunges forward and grabs onto Dick's arm. However, the fabric of the torn and damaged suit simply tears further under the force, causing Dick to slip free from Tim's grasp and fall into the dark, ominous water below.
"NO—!" The cry escapes Tim's mouth in a choked rush, the sound filled with anguish and fear. With a desperate burst of energy, he lunges forward, his hand reaching out in a desperate attempt to cling to Dick's suit, to anything that would keep him from falling.
But it was too late. He was too late.
His heart hammers frantically against his chest as he gazes down into the dark depths below, his eyes wide and searching desperately for even a glimpse of Dick in the river's deep murky water.
His breath hitches, a silent sob wracking his frame as he slumps over the edge of the bridge, his hands shaking as he brings them up to his face. His blood-slick fingers thread through his hair, his eyes wide as they stay fixed on the dark water where Dick had fallen.
The sound of a vehicle approaching in the distance catches his ears, but he doesn't acknowledge it. He doesn't turn to see who it is or check to see if it's a threat. He just keeps staring down into the water, the sound of the river below the only thing he can hear over his panicked breathing.
Jason came to a crashing halt at the side of the bridge, the panicked urgency in his voice clear. He stumbled off his bike, nearly falling as he yelled out.
"Where is he--” His hollow eyes darted around at their surroundings. "WHERE IS HE?!"
Dick.
Tim's eyes widened as Nightwing's head broke the surface of the water, his body floating limp against the current. He's alive.
His shoulders tense as he quickly scrambles to his feet, his body protesting in pain with each movement.
The relief he feels is quickly drowned out, however, as he notices the large bioluminescent tail wrapped around his older brother's lower half, keeping him from crashing with the harsh currents.
Jason quickly approached the bridges railing, his heavy boots thudding loudly against the concrete, his heart racing thunderously against his chest, deep sapphire eyes following Tim's wide gaze down into the water. As he saw the sight in front of him, his eyes widened in disbelief.
He gripped the rough stone ledge, leaning over to get a better look at his brother. "What the fuck is that?" The older boys voice cuts through the ringing in Drake's ears.
Tim couldn't respond, his eyes glued on the large tail, his jaw slack. He took in the sight of the long powerful appendage wrapped around his brother's waist. It was beautiful. The long black scales seemed to glow a soft purple even in the dim moon’s light, as if the creature attached was glowing itself. The bioluminescence was something that one could only describe as ethereal.
Tim's heart raced as he took a step closer to the edge of the bridge, his eyes darting around, trying to catch a glimpse of the creature. He couldn't believe his eyes. Neither of them could.
Tim's mind reeled, trying to comprehend what they were seeing. His heart was pounding, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to process the situation. He knew that he should be scared. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt heavy and thick as he finally managed to speak, his voice low and shaky. "I..I don't know." He croaked.
A ragged breath escaped his lips as the sea creature met his gaze.
He was frozen as he locked eyes with the creature. His mouth went dry, everything around him seemed to disappear into the background. The only thing he could focus on was the deep piercing eyes peering up from the darkness of the river.
Everything about the creature was attractive – its long shimmering scales, bioluminescent glow, and even the large dorsal fin along its spine.
The flutter of the creature's gills when its eyes met theirs didn’t go unnoticed by the brothers. Jason's lips parted into as much of a smirk as it could given the situation.
The Mer's features slowly disappeared under the surface, as it made a sudden exit. Both of the boys' eyes flicked towards the water, but the sudden gasping from their elder brother drew their attention away once more.
Dick was struggling, coughing up water as he attempted to pull himself up and out of the water. His large hand was grasping desperately to the creature's shoulder, as he pulled himself up.
Tim's heart leapt into his throat as he watched Dick gasping for air, his body shivering as he struggled to grapple himself out of the water. He was so focused on his older brother's struggles that he almost missed the flicker of glowing purple as the creature’s tail disappeared beneath the surface of the water.
Tim moved forward to help Dick, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Jason with a grimace on his face.
"What are we going to do?" Tim asked, his voice filled with worry.
Their conversation was cut short, however, as Dick's coughing subsided, replaced by a strangled gasp for air, his eyes wide and frantic.
"I'm fine," he rasped, his hands trembling as he tried to pull himself up onto the bridge, his body shaking violently. His sharp ocean eyes focused on the crushed seaweed-looking salve used to treat his wounds.
Tim was about to respond when they heard a shuffling from the water, the faint sound of something scratching against the concrete. Tim's gaze snapped down to the water, his heart starting to pound against his chest.
Jason had already stepped back and drawn his weapon, his eyes fixed on a spot in the water a few feet below them. The sound of sloshing water echoed around them again, the dim light from the moon making it difficult to see anything except the faint bioluminescence.
And then, you were gone.
This is the result of the poll -> link.
Don’t judge my random fighting scene with Tim I was trying something out🦖🦖
All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and encouraged!
I rewrote everything, so I apologise that this took so long to come out💚
Danny gets into making teddy bears. He didn't start that way; honestly, he was mostly trying to fix Bearbert Einstein after his mom accidentally burnt him with a misfired ray gun.
Jazz had broken down into tears, and it had ripped apart his heart and his core to see her so distressed. He went to the local- and only- fabric store in Amity Park to find materials and try to repair his sister's beloved teddy bear when his mom's attempts to fix the bear only made him look worse.
Just his luck that the only fabric shop for miles around was Weston Fabrics and that the person manning the cashier was Wes himself. The other boy had nearly thrown him out when Danny walked in, but thankfully his older brother Kyle had talked Wes down and helped Danny find fabrics for Bearbert.
Surprisingly, Wes had even helped him set up one of their sewing stations to get started on Bearbert.
The strange part was when Danny turned the machine on and found his hands moving independently. As if he had been doing it for years, he expertly put together the bear and even went through the other fabrics to make him new outfits. Wes had watched the whole time, raising a brow when Danny got up to pay.
"Thought you didn't know how to sew?"
"I thought so too. Must be a ghost thing." Danny replied then smirked as the redhead glared.
"A ghost thing?" Wes all but sneers. He still trying to expose Danny as Phantom and had yet to get proof, even with Danny teasing him in the open. As it were, Kyle, who was unpacking new needles rolled his eyes behind the red hair teenager.
"Yeah, since I have a protection core as Phantom, it sometimes transfers into my human side. Do you know how teddy bears guard children at night against bad dreams? Same thing"
Wes pauses, then slowly blinks; he whispers with a small baffled smile, "That's kind of adorable. A teddy bear to keep you safe through the night."
And Danny? He didn't mean to, but he found Wes sort of hot at that moment. Not the Wow, that guy is a celebrity hot but a Be careful who you call ugly in middle school because Puberty made them delicious over the summer break hot.
He will admit that he returned to Weston Fabrics to flirt more with Wes and made so many teddy bears as a disguise. The good news was that all his works were a hit, and even some kids at school started asking for special commissions when word got around about the special Nightmerica teddy bear he made for Sam's birthday.
He makes money, gets a boyfriend, and when he donates the teddy bears to a local hospital, he discovers a new power. Through items he made himself, Danny can send waves of comforting energy to the people around the item, like a miniature zen distributor. The patients that have his toys start to show greater rest from both nightmares and lower anxiety, depression, and general sadness.
He lets Wes name this power, which later becomes the name of his teddy bear business- Phantom Relief. After dating for two years and graduating, both boys agree the spark had been lost but remain good friends. Danny takes his thriving teddy bear-making skills to his new college in Gotham while Wes leaves for Star City.
In Gotham is where things get....stranger. See, Danny knows someone new to the city will never truly understand a city's problems. But the rapid amount of homeless kids is so shocking he starts making clothes and blankets to try and give them out because they shouldn't be out there freezing like that! He even tries passing along some teddy bears to them, hoping to soothe their pain with some Zen waves.
The key word is tries.
Gotham kids do not trust or like free handouts. Danny burst into tears when a thirteen-year-old asked if he wanted the kid to use his hand or mouth in exchange for the new blanket. The street kid seemed surprised when Danny was horrified by the question. No one else found it strange, the kid said, wrapped in a Superman blanket that Danny made only a day before, it's just how things are done around here.
The worst part is the homeless thirteen-year-old is right. Everywhere he looks, Danny finds more people needing protection- physically, emotionally, and mentally. Gotham is just filled with people suffering. He couldn't keep up. It's tearing him apart trying to help everyone.
His core feels like it will burst from all the overloaded cries of help it can pick up. One night Danny can't take it anymore, so he shifts into Phantom and flies out to the old Drake manner, abandoned since Janet Drake's murder, where the cries are muffled, and dials Wes' number with shaking hands.
His ex picks up listens to his sobs and tells him "You can't save people who don't want to be saved. But you can try to reach them in a way they understand."
It's precisely what he needs to hear.
Ancients, but he misses the man sometimes. Why did Danny ever let Wes Weston go? Well, as they say, Right person, wrong time. Maybe that was why.
So Danny decided the only way to get to Gotham was to be like Gotham. And who were the people that dramatically changed the city with every random plot? With every random heist?
Gotham Rogues.
So all Phantom had to do was become one, which shouldn't be too hard since people in Amity Park still debated if he was good or not years later. He fixes up his Phantom suit to something more Gotham villain, keeping the colors but removing the jumpsuit and adding a suit and vest alongside a mask and two giant needles.
He appears in Crime Alley- because that's where the most cries come from- and just challenges everything and everyone to take the area from him. He fights off so many gangs- even Red Hood, who puts up a great fight- but after the dust settles, he now runs the place.
He then starts- fixing the place. Starts sending out clothes for the homeless, starts fixing up buildings, gives Phantom Reflief out-teddy bears to kids, fake emulates to adults, starts sending the gang kids back to school, forces landlords to lower the housing, and illegally makes everyone get along.
He spreads his tyranny to the rest of the city, fighting the good and bad sides of the law. The bats give him one hell of a challenge, but Danny beat the Ghost King when he was an untrained brat. This is nothing. Batman gets better with every fight, and so do his associates.
Things look good until the Joker tries him too much when the clown somehow gets to Wes. Has the love of his life tied to a bomb with enough Joker Venom to fill half the city, and Danny sees red.
When he comes to, it's to Wes holding him in his arms, whispering reassurances, and Joker nothing but a smear on the ground. Danny can't live with what he's done; he runs away, shifts into his human side, and vows to never be Phantom again.
After four years of peace due to Phantom's hostile takeover, Gotham mourns the loss but doesn't fall into so much crime now that the ghost crime lord is gone. Danny thinks he's done his job and chooses to melt into the background. He opens a little shop for fabrics and custom-made teddy bears.
Wes finds him, agrees to try and rekindle their love, and a year later agrees to the marriage.
All is well until seventeen-year-old Tim Drake strolls into his fabric shop. Clutching a superboy teddy bear, he gave a shivering fourteen-year-old the first week as Phantom Gotham Villain with a stern look in his eye.
"Phantom- I need you to help me find Batman, who is lost in time, or I will expose your secret identity to the rest of Gotham."
Danny doesn't know what he should be doing in this situation. There are many issues and he's not sure what to address first, but it sure would help if his husband would stop laughing.
"Why don't we sit down before unpacking...any of that. Would you please stop laughing"
"I'm - I'm try--- OMG he's me!" Wes joins them 3 minutes later still giggling.
Sitting on the couch, drinking some tea, Danny looks at this non-aging, maybe-probably Robin and thinks about the fact that Batman has apparently been lost in time. Then Danny realizes that maybe-probably Robin should have no idea about his connections to a Time God and that he should have resources like the Justice League who should be higher on the list than an ex-rogue living in a teddy bear store. He'll start with that.
"So, if I were Phantom, which I'm not saying I am, but if I were Phantom, why are you coming to me for help?"
"I did some research on you when you first came became a rogue and you have the same name and some of the abilities as a small time menace in a place called Amity Park" Danny is a little bit offended, he's not sure if it's the fact that he is still labeled as a menace or the fact that definitely-Robin thinks he was small time. "-and they're supposedly connected to the afterlife so you would know that Batman isn't dead."
Danny looks at Robin, who is holding the well-cared for Superboy plush way to tightly - yikes- and thinks he isn't didn't answer the question. "Ok sure. I, if I were Phantom, would maybe have connections to the dead, but what I meant was. Why are you asking a potential ex-rogue with connections to the dead rather than say, Superman or Martian Manhunter or the Justice League in general which have to have a member that has connections to either time or the dead. Why-?"
"Despite being a Rogue, you never hurt anyone innocent. You did a lot of good and helped a lot of people. You-"
"Oh he really is a little me isn't he?" Wes sighs out as he sits next to Danny. "No one believes you do they? Batman had a funeral, but you think Batman isn't dead and despite having evidence no one believes you. So you came to the friendliest Rogue who, even if he doesn't believe you, could check if Batman really is dead and then would believe you and help."
Tiny-Robin doesn't say anything, but both hands are on the Superboy plush now and Danny hasn't doubted Wes for years.
Jazz: What are you doing?
Danny: I got bored waiting for you to finish your class, so I figured I might kill some time by offering my cleaning services to my fellow college students.
Jazz: ....Danny, you don't go to Gotham U.
Danny: I know, but someone left this table with the school's tablecloth out, and I had my tablet. People assumed I was with the college, but it's just dorm housekeeping, so it's no big deal.
Tim: *Walking up* Hi, my brother Jason said you accepted dorm housekeeping requests?
Danny: Sure do! Could you fill out this form with your information?
Tim: *Taking tablet* Thanks. Are you the one who cleans the rooms?
Danny: That's right!
Tim: Interesting.
Later
Danny: What does it mean when one of the students asks for me to wear a maid outfit in the special requests section?
Jazz: It means you have the chance to get that Drake-Wayne family money.
Jazz: What are you doing?
Danny: I got bored waiting for you to finish your class, so I figured I might kill some time by offering my cleaning services to my fellow college students.
Jazz: ....Danny, you don't go to Gotham U.
Danny: I know, but someone left this table with the school's tablecloth out, and I had my tablet. People assumed I was with the college, but it's just dorm housekeeping, so it's no big deal.
Tim: *Walking up* Hi, my brother Jason said you accepted dorm housekeeping requests?
Danny: Sure do! Could you fill out this form with your information?
Tim: *Taking tablet* Thanks. Are you the one who cleans the rooms?
Danny: That's right!
Tim: Interesting.
Later
Danny: What does it mean when one of the students asks for me to wear a maid outfit in the special requests section?
Jazz: It means you have the chance to get that Drake-Wayne family money.
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.
It happens the day of his high school graduation because Casper High is cursed, and the curse personally targets Danny. Danny doesn't care what anyone says. He will die on that hill.
The school is cursed, which is why he turned into a halfa in his freshmen year, throwing his life into chaos all throughout sophomore and junior year, and now that he was finally leaving it, this happens.
An attack by a ghost he has never seen or met before. She calls herself "Lady Gotham," and her name doesn't hint at her power or obsession, unlike other ghosts.
He finds it rather rude of her to burst the graduation ceremony just as they called his name.
Danny knew he could take her- she felt more like a city spirit than a ghost, which means she was terribly weak against Phantom- but with so many witnesses, he hadn't been able to transform. Instead, he was blasted with black tar paste that reverted him to the age of ten, and while he stumbled on tiny legs, she took him and threw him into a portal.
He had attempted to shift into his ghost side as soon as he landed, but something was anchoring his core. It felt like he had been hit with the Plasmius Maximus- his powers were out of reach.
He would not be able to take her in a fight after all.
Thankfully, she had been distracted by his parents attempting to rescue him, so she got trapped on the other side of the portal. Still, he felt it would be safer to get as far away from the random field she kidnapped him to before she could return.
So he was running in an unknown storm, to an unknown location from an unknown city spirit instead of having his graduation party with his friends and eating cake.
"Casper High just couldn't give up even on the last day," Danny grumbles while running through the pouring rain of a terrible storm, trying to see through the water and the howling wind. He was drenched head to toe in the water, and he could feel even his bones shaking. He hasn't been this cold since the day his Ice core materialized.
Up ahead, he spots a building. Praying they will take pity on him, he pushes himself to go faster until he's at the door, banging on it with his tiny fists.
"Is someone there? I need help!" He yells as the wind picks up again, almost throwing Danny off balance. "Open the door, please!"
The door cracks open, and one tiny blue eye peeks up at him briefly before it swings open. "Come in! Hurry!"
Danny doesn't need to be told twice as he all but throws himself into the giant building, away from what he is starting to suspect is a hurricane. He turns around to find a little boy- he couldn't be older than nine- struggling with closing the garage door. Danny is quick to help him, and together, after tucking and grunting, they get it shut.
"Thanks," Danny says trying to gather his breath. He glances around, startled to see he's in a big fancy house that reeks of money, maybe more than Vlad or Sam. It is also deadly silent and bare as if someone only attempted to make it look lived-in but forgot to get humans.
"Don't mention it." The kid says almost under his breath. Danny would think of him as shy if the boy wasn't staring at him without so much as blinking.
Kind of creepy.
"Are you here because of my poster?" The kid asks, and Danny has no idea what he's talking about, but he's not about to make the creepy kid angry.
"Sure am."
The boy beams. "This is the first time anyone has responded! Come this way. I have everything in the main ballroom!"
Danny follows eyes taking in all the tasteful decor of various cultures and the complete lack of any other person present. After getting stranded, he found a mansion tucked away from human contact in search of shelter. Strange how that has happened to him twice
The boy leads him to two large double doors which he proudly opens up with a loud "Ta-da!"
Inside the ballroom are rows and rows of bed cots, blankets, and pillows. On one side of the room are tables with water bottles, bowls of snacks, and even little goodie bags. There are board games on a nearby table and clothes folded neatly in various sizes. Next to the tables are piles of teddy bears.
It looks like a movie set of a makeshift shelter that could easily fit a hundred people. Again there is no one else but them. Double creepy.
The boy skips between the first two cots, gesturing to the room. "You're the first one here, so you can first pick! I have board games, food, and clothes for you to burrow at the front if you want! I'm sure we'll have more people soon if you come!"
Danny offers the kids a weak smile. "Thanks."
"You're welcome! I'll go wait for everyone at the door. You make yourself comfortable."
While Danny cautiously explores, the kid races back to wait at the door for who knows who. The first thing he does is change into a warm set of clothes- picking a grey set of sweat pants and long sleeve that fits his tiny limbs. He grabs a water bottle and a bag of chips before his eyes land on a pile of brightly colored posters, likely forgotten on the table.
Strom Shelter for free at Drak Mansion
Everyone Welcome!
Sleeping, clothes, food and entertainment are provided!
Kids are invited to Tim Drake's birthday party on the same night!
Doors open at 5pm.
Oh gosh. Oh no.
He looks around the completely empty room and, for the first time, notices a small corner with a very sad "Happy Birthday" banner and a few party hats. At the edge of the table sits a folded half-sheet cake with a lopsided candle in the shape of a nine.
Above that little corner is a large clock that reads ten o'clock.
He puts his things down on a random cot, carefully returning to the front door where the little boy- he assumes Tim Drake- is waiting. He's leaning back and forth on his feet, and Danny can barely pick up his soft words.
"It's okay; they're all just really late. One person came this time so more could be on their way! Don't be sad, Tim. Things are looking up!"
Bless his heart.
Danny tries to reach for his ghost powers and grins when his ice core responds. He glances back at the little boy before he slips into the ballroom. He quickly re-decorates the party corner using his ice, making it look like actual decorations.
He even goes out of his way to open bottles of colored juices- he doubts anyone would drink them- and freezes the liquid so it adds a bit of color to the room. He's left with a winter wonderland with ice sculptures of animals- kids like animals, right?- and he gathers a birthday boy.
"Hey, Tim?"
The kid hurries to his side. "Yes? Did you need something?"
"Yeah, I need the birthday boy to cut his cake!"
Danny strong-arms the kid into the room and is delighted by the absolute happiness that blooms over the boy's face once he sees the room. "Wow! Did you do this?"
"Sure did, kid."
"Are you a wizard like Harry Potter?" The boy asks, and Danny has no idea who that is, but he nods anyway. Maybe it's this world's version of Santa Claus? Who is he to deny the kid's sense of wonder.
"Don't tell anyone." He says with a wink.
"But-But- but I'm a muggle!" The boy cries, suddenly horrified. Danny wonders if that's a slur, and if so, he won't allow him to use it to describe himself with it. "You'll get in trouble for using magic before me!"
"Why?"
"Cause muggles can't know about magic unless they are family! They'll throw you in Azkaban!"
Ugh, okay, he can work with that. "Well, I guess this makes us brothers, doesn't it?"
Tim's eyes practically pop right out of his skull. "Really?!
"Yeah, I'll be your big brother. My name is Danny and we can do something you always wanted to do for your birthday. How does that sound?"
"We can do....anything?"
"It depends on what you want to do, as long as it's legal and safe."
"Will.....you read me a bedtime story? I always wanted to know what that's like."
Danny's heart shatters. "Sure of course. What book do you want to read?"
Tim's face goes slightly pink. "The new Harry Potter book just came out. The goblet of fire? Can we read that?"
Oh, so Harry Potter is a book series! "Sure, Tim. Let's cut the cake and then we can pick a cot to pile blankets on to snuggle down and read."
Danny had never seen a kid look so happy in his life "Okay!"
Later, as Tim is tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder, fast asleep after the exciting chapter of Harry Potter outflying a dragon Danny is visited by Lady Gotham.
It is only because Tim is too comfortable that he doesn't start swinging at her. She explains Tim's life and the obvious neglect before she bends down until her forehead touches the ground and begs Danny to care for him in her stead.
By morning, the Drakes suddenly acquire a new family member, and no one notices how he appeared overnight, but he's in the system, and no one can fault the documents. Lady Gotham made them herself.
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