Choice of Prisoner ch 8
Everything hurt when Danny managed to peel his eyes open at some indeterminate time later. Psychosomatic aftershocks of electricity racing over his limbs as the cold dragged over his skin and scalp. He was staring at the ceiling of his cell with his breath fogging out in front of him. This was the result of having the cell next to Mr. Freeze.
He blinked. Under the blanket....blankets he'd been given. It dampened the agony between his skin and his jumpsuit. Shifting his head the ugly reminder around his neck dug into the tender skin. Swallowing harshly, he turned on his side to stare at the wall.
His parents had designed this new tool. Something they must have done with Vlad and has his request. It worked too. They were mad but their science was sound. It wasn't as if he couldn't feel his Other. It remained there but utterly muted. Even the Specter Deflector hadn't done such a thorough job. Just dampening his power for a limited time; but this felt...secure. As if his parents had put their best work into this collar before handing it off to Vlad.
Vlad. Vlad wasn't supposed to be allowed to visit him after Dr. Kingfisher had recommended it; but overshadowing was a powerful tool very few people could resist. It wasn't a surprise he'd gotten in or that he'd brought the collar. Danny was more surprised with how betrayed he felt by the whole thing.
"Danny?" Pamela spoke up as she turned the corner into his cell. "You're up?"
"Hi." Tucking every rough emotion away, Danny turned to face the supervillain.
"Thank God you're up. It's been three days, kiddo." She produced a protein bar and bottle of water. "I guess they wammied you good?"
He hummed, sitting up just enough to drink the water without spilling over himself. The bar went down like a rock, but it was food and he couldn't complain that much. "Three days?"
"Three days. Victor has been beside himself. I've been pretty worried myself."
"Anything happen?"
"Not really. Two-Face has been reciting Shakespeare. He's pretty good at it. You missed an appointment with the doc and you Classic Lit class. I guess that's about it. Honestly, you're the most interesting thing around here right now."
"You didn't take me to the infirmary?" Could he go back? Back where this thing had been forced around his neck, back when he'd felt Vlad's cold breath on his face?
"They dragged you here on purpose, kid. There's no fucking way." Pamela reached out, brushing back his bangs. Both jerked away from each other, blinking. "Sorry...don't know why I did that. Your hair...it's getting pretty long."
"It is." Danny reached for the collar. It was cool under his fingertips, thrumming with energy and...he paused over the logo. It wasn't just the shape was different now; there were bumps.
Bumps?
"I'm sorry." Pamela muttered, handing him another protein bar.
Danny shrugged. "So am I. I."
"Daniel!" Victor appeared at the door in his suit. "You're awake!"
"I'm up." He agreed. "Why is it so cold?"
"I believe your powers insulated you from the cold. This is as close as I dare get." He remained just within the door. "My friend. Are you feeling well?"
"No. I feel like shit." He ignored Victor's flinch.
"And your powers?"
"I can't....feel them." He squeezed his fingers around the wrapper. "I'm...tired."
"Ah, of course." Victor nodded at Pamela before retreating.
"You're not immune to his cold anymore. He's been really upset."
"Gee...poor Victor." Danny drew a hand through his hair, sighing. It was getting long and disgusting. "I.."
"I can take care of your hair." She gestured to her own, bouncing up when he gave a slow nod. Returning not much later with a few hair care products. It was calming, almost meditative as she ran a comb through his hair. Careful with the tangles and clumps. With a tie she worked it into a shallow pony tail.
"I look like a founding father." Danny smiled, almost dozing.
"A very cute one," Pamela offered, "Get some sleep, alright?"
"Sure." He let himself be tucked back under the blankets; dozing with the collar digging into his neck.
Over the next few days he wobbled around with unsteady legs and sudden racing aches over his limbs. He was cold and hollow but food did no good. When he finally made it to the mess hall for a meal a hushed silence washed out away from him. Goons, villains, and guards watched Danny proceed up the aisles toward the line.
Just like high school. He told himself and ignored everyone.
"Well. Well. WELL! Isn't that a shiny new toy!"
Fear washed through his system, then anger, which morphed into a white-hot fury totally at odds with his personality. Danny was turning before he knew what he was doing, bringing the tray up to catch the descending limb against the wrist. Pained cackling followed and increased as Danny dragged the tray back around dig into the flesh behind his elbow. It wasn't a strong tray. A thin plastic not designed for hand-to-hand combat or allowing injury; but Danny did his best until it broke under his fingers.
He didn't have his strength. He didn't have his ghost half and betrayal sat hot and sick in his stomach. Taking his anger out on the Joker was the easiest decision he'd made since waking up. "JUST BECAUSE I'VE GOT THIS DOESN'T MEAN I CAN'T KICK YOUR SORRY, PATHETIC EDGELORD ASS!" The Joker was a monster. Hideous and wretched and cruel with a soul splashed gleefully about in a bathing pool of blood he'd spilled; but he was still a man. Mortal, with flesh which could rip and bone
They weren't given heavy shoes as a matter of principle; too many dangers when angry patients wore weapons. Years of training and ghost battles and bullies left him with an intimate knowledge of where to stomp to get someone to stop moving. It didn't even take that much force to hear the crack he'd been aiming for.
It didn't take long for a the guards to converge. Jolted out of their stupor by a pitched screamed.
Without his powers and strength he really didn't have the ability to fend off anyone. Surprise and skill over true strength; but when he was hauled out of the mess it was with blood sprayed over the base of his pants and clean, white socks.
This time, solitary was interrupted by an unexpected figure. Warden Valery with his guards and secretary; sputtering hopelessly. "Danny! You just recovered! You shouldn't be starting fights!"
Danny stared down at his fingers, hairline cuts from flying plastic just red enough to show they'd broken skin. "You're awfully concerned, Warden."
The man nearly flapped his arms around, sputtering. "Young man! I know you're not from Gotham, but this is a serious matter!"
"You know. I can count on one hand how many fucks I give." Danny flipped the older man off. Taking immense satisfaction with the way his eye bugged.
"Mr. Fenton!"
"I feel like you're more worried about what Bruce Wayne is going to say rather than my actually getting into a fight. And, for the record, I didn't start that fight. I finished it."
"He hadn't even done anything!"
"So? His existence is a declaration of war, and fuck you for yelling at me especially after you fucked up and let Vlad fucking Masters in."
Warden Valery blinked. " I What?"
Of course. Vlad had covered his tracks. The Warden was pathetic and stupid but he was decent enough that Vlad would have had to overshadow him to gain access into Arkham."
"Are you stupid? Where do you think I even got this?" Danny flicked the collar with a fingernail. "It's sure as not shit standard issue."
People overshadowed rarely remembered anything they'd done. If they noticed, the memory gap was enough to alarm and upset them. For someone with security access and concerns, Warden Valery would be deeply worried. Or Danny hoped he would be. "Right. Yes....well. I'll....look into that. You know the consequences for fighting, Mr. Fenton."
"Fighting goons or that lunatic, because when the goons jump me no one does a damn thing. So it is about Wayne."
Valery pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mr. Fenton. You'll be out in the morning. Get to class once you do, alright?" He was gone a moment later and Danny let his head sag back against the wall. His fingers traced over the logo again, and curiously, he traced them out on the wall. Seven dots outlined in the sweeping calligraphy. Seven dots and in a moment he was staring at the distinct outline of a constellation smeared into the all.
Ursa Major. The Great Bear. The Big Dipper.
Danny stared blankly at the quickly fading sketch, grappling with a confusion he couldn't place. Why? Why would it be there? They'd designed this. Locked away Phantom and his powers and....his parents didn't know he was Phantom.
Did they?
If they'd designed this for a meta then it wouldn't have been half as effective. Designed for a ghost it was brilliant.
But they didn't know. He'd been arrested and tried as a human. Vlad had been perfectly clear and deliberate about that. So...why did this work? This wasn't Vlad's design, that much was clear. His dads nano-tech was groundbreaking.
Vlad wanted to be brilliant. He was good, but nothing compared to Danny's parents. He couldn't have designed this collar and Danny wouldn't have trusted him not to put an extra bit of torture in there for his own amusement. A shock collar. A tracking piece. A camera....something.
So, now...what did that mean?
Danny shifted onto his back. It wasn't as if he forgave them...but this didn't make any sense.
Ursa Major....probably the easiest to fit in this new logo and; but why?
It was still bugging him in class and then when he saw Bruce Wayne. It wasn't until he'd gotten a few moves into their chess match when the man finally spoke. "Something on your mind, chum?" He'd been quiet aside from the general greeting. Apparently reading Danny's expression and acting accordingly. Danny wondered what his kids were like.
"A lot of somethings." Danny admitted, peeking up from his arm to glance at the board. He'd put the rules together during their last match."I guess it's more of a mystery."
"Oh?" Bruce had brought some cookies with him. A batch made by his butler, and milk from a cow he kept on the manor grounds. He'd laughed when Danny had told him that rich people were crazy. "Well, if you read Sherlock Holmes, "when you have eliminated the impossible whatever remains, However improbable, must be the truth."
"You just know that?" Danny muttered, toying with the captured knight. "Which...I guess still confuses me."
For a moment, the blue eyes were a sea-hairs shy of too-calculating. "I'm sorry. I'm no good with mysteries."
"Do you call up your boyfriend? I mean, Batman?'
With a suddenly aggrieved sigh, Bruce shook his head. "You know....sure. Yeah." It was funny and Danny managed his first smile in a few days. "I heard you got into a fight with the Joker."
"Oh yeah? Warden blabbing to like it's a fucking report card? Calling home to tell you your kids have been in a fight?"
"Something like that. Well, my children's school calls my secretary."
Danny flicked at his collar. "He was reaching for this. It didn't seem like a good idea to let him get within grabbing range."
"No...it was not. Well done." Someone made a choked noise in the background.
Well done. So far every had fussed and worried and scolded but being complimented....Danny looked away. "Thanks." He must have been feeling better. He wasn't as cold these days, even around Victor. Still, Wayne's smile managed to warm him further.
#$#$#
Bruce hadn't made it past the front door of Arkham when the wardens' voice called. "Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne!"
"Mr. Valery!" Bruce grinned, chess set tucked under his arm. "What can I help you with?"
Valery was panting faintly from the run to catch up with him. "Mr. Wayne....do you mind a private conversation?"
"Not at all!"
"Well...Mr. Wayne, I know you have a...relationship with...uh, the Dark Knight. No. No. I've heard the rumors; but listen. I need to talk to him...there was a security breach and as far as I can tell.....well. I think he might be able to handle it."
"Not you?"
"This seems...Justice League level, if I'm honest, but I know how your man feels about other heroes in the city. Listen, this is serious. Do you think he'd mind?"
Bruce thought about protesting, but he sighed instead. "I'll let the commish know. You know, he's got connections."
Warden Valery winked, "of course. The commish....just, it's urgent."
Was it urgent? To do with Danny's new collar? The sight of it had curdled his stomach and knowing just how effective it was alarmed him greatly. No one was sure how powerful Danny was; but his children were taking bets. He wanted to take this run himself but pulled out his phone. He needed plausible deniability.
#$#$#
Valery lived in an upscale section of Gotham. Being warden to the most notorious asylum in America netted him a tidy income as well as proportional death threats. Very few people had access to his apartment, so it was a nasty shock when he turned on the light in the kitchen to find Nightwing leaning against his counter and arranging the magnetic poetry strips into dirty limericks.
"Jesus Fuck!"
"Nope! Nightwing." The vigilante tilted his head, whites of his mask narrowing. "So? Security breach?"
"Your step-father works fast. well. I guess he's got everyone on speed dial. Look, I don't..." He waved for the man to take a seat on the couch and produced two sodas. Glass bottles like his grandmother used to serve. "I don't want to go to someone outside, but there's no one I can think of who could handle this threat. We had a security breach a week ago. My cameras are glitched out at the time and the men involved don't remember a damn thing. I don't remember a damn thing. The thing is, Vlad Masters is barred from seeing or visiting Danny Fenton. It used to be that the kid just turned him down, but then...well. Dr. Kingfisher heard some alarming things and we decided to ban him officially."
"Alarming things?"
"Best we can guess is that he's a creep to the kid. I know he was involved with his trial and is his Godfather, but even that doesn't negate what the doc said. He tried playing that angle a bunch of times to get a visit." God, he wanted a beer. He wanted something hard that would make the edge of the world go fuzzy.
"You listened to Dr. Kingfisher?"
He rolled the cold bottle between his hands, humming thoughtfully. "Yes. I mean. I know there's...I'm limited, but that I can do. That I could do, but a week ago...Vlad Masters got access to Arkham. By my permission and he came in with my men and he....he put that collar on Fenton. Apparently dragged him back to his cell by the sounds of it. I don't know how. I don't remember, but he got in and....fuck!" Valery ran his hands through his hair. If anything really unsavory happened to Fenton and the press found out? If someone explicitly barred from the teenager suddenly managed to barge in and slap a new debilitating collar on him? He would be crucified. His career would be over!
Nightwing hummed thoughtfully and thus began the longest and most intensive interrogation Valery had ever dealt with. By the time the younger man seemed satisfied the warden already felt like passing out on his couch. "We'll be in touch."
That was something. Better than nothing, he supposed.
"But...did he really break the Joker's arm?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah." Nightwing grinned and vanished off the balcony a moment later. Only once he was gone did Valery sink sideways onto the cushions. He wasn't sure if he dreamed or not. but the only thing he remembered was the ringing gong of a grandfather clock jolting him out of sleep just as his alarm might have gone off if his phone hadn't died.
pt7
https://www.tumblr.com/planningconquest/807130136434589696/choice-of-prisoner-pt-7
chapter 9