Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Danny woke up on his sixteenth birthday well rested for once. Apparently, in the Ghost Zone, a ghost's death day was important, and no one is allowed to mess with them. Since Danny wasn't yet dead they decided to hold his death day truce on his birthday. 

This decision may have come in part from a particularly creative threat Jazz had made towards Skulker after he literally crashed Danny's fifteenth birthday party, ruining the cake that she had spent the better part of a day and a half baking and decorating with tiny stars and planets. Danny still chuckles at the memory of Jazz, in all her five-foot-five glory, shouting down the seven-foot-tall hunter, both of them covered in frosting.

"Welcome home, Danny!" His mom greeted hIm from the kitchen. "I'm making your favorite for dinner, Shrimp Alfredo!" 

"Normal shrimp Alfredo, right? No experimental cooking methods, or anti-ghost parmesan, right?"

Mom laughed a little, "Of course, there isn't any anti-ghost parmesan in the Alfredo. But your father has been experimenting with the brussel sprouts."

"I'm sure it's ghosts that make them taste so bad and make you gassy." Dad boomed from where he was mixing brussel sprouts in an unnaturally green powder. "So I'm gonna make sure no ghosts get into these sprouts!" Danny made a mental note not to touch the vegetables and excused himself to his room. 

Dinner in the Fenton household was rarely a quiet affair. Between Jack and Maddie’s talk of their work, or Jazz’s talk of her latest thesis, or the occasional dinner that ends in them fighting their food into submission, there was rarely a night when dinner passed quietly. Danny’s birthday dinner was no exception. 

“Jazz, you are hogging all the shrimp!” 

“There is plenty to go around, Danny. Besides, you are what you eat. If you eat too much shrimp, you may not grow anymore.”

“Oh, attacking a man’s height? That’s a low blow.”

“You’d know all about low blows, wouldn't you, little brother?”

“Don’t worry about it, Danny! I was your height at sixteen. Us Fenton men are late bloomers. I’m sure you’ll hit a growth spurt any day now.”

“Now, now, kids. Danny is a perfectly average height. Doctor Foley said so herself at his last check-up.” Maddie’s eyes lit up with a sudden realization. “ OH, that reminds me! We need to do your annual Ectoplasmic Contamination Test. I completely forgot about it last year after Ghost X attacked.”

Danny and Jazz shared a quick look. She looked just as scared and unsure as he felt. 

"Mom, do you think it's necessary? We know ectoplasm isn't all that dangerous." Jazz said as she cleared the dinner dishes.

"I know, sweetie, but we should still keep an eye on it, just in case."

"Besides," Jack said, "there's nothing to worry about. Danny takes lab safety so seriously, there's no way he'd be contaminated!"

Danny nodded even as an icy weight settled in his stomach. “Yeah, sure. Sounds-sounds great!” Damn! Damn Damn Damn! There was no chance of ghostly intervention this year with all the ghosts making themselves scarce. Maybe he can destroy the sample? No, they’ll just take another one. Maybe he can corrupt the data in the computer before they see it? It’s not the best plan, but it’ll have to do. Nothing was stopping them from taking another sample, but he could cross that bridge when he got to it. 

“Okay! Cake time!” Jazz announced after the plates were cleared away. She pulled a three-layer cake out of the refrigerator. It was beautifully decorated with dark blue and purple swirls and dotted with edible silver glitter and pearlescent candy beads. “I tried to make it galaxy-themed, but I know it’s not accurate to the-” 

“I love it, Jazz, thank you.” Jazz's cakes were always beautifully decorated, and it settled something in his core. Even if everything went wrong, he'd still have Jazz.

After cake, he got to open his presents. Jazz had gotten him a remote-controlled model of the Curiosity rover, while his parents had gotten him a new telescope. Suddenly he couldn’t wait for it to be night so he could stargaze. It had been so long since he had any time to just look up. 

“Alright, Danny. Before you start setting that up, let's go ahead and get that blood sample taken.” Maddie said.

Ugh. The blood test. It’s okay. He just has to go in after the report runs and corrupt the data. Most likely they will blame it on ghosts and forget to take another sample from him. It will be fine.

“Since we couldn’t do anything yesterday, how about we go to the arcade after school today?” Sam leaned against the locker. “They have that VR Mortal Kombat game my parents won’t let me play at home.”

“I’m down for the arcade.” Tucker said, “It’ll give me a chance to try out my new look on the ladies.” He ran a finger over his budding mustache in a way that was supposed to be attractive, but just made Sam and Danny burst out laughing. 

“Is that supposed to be a mustache?” Sam asked.

“I thought he had chocolate milk on his lip.” Danny giggled.

“That’s funny, coming from you, Danny. You haven’t even started growing a beard.”

Danny was about to defend himself when he was shoved hard in the shoulder.

“I heard it was your birthday yesterday, Fenturd!” Dash growled as he blocked Danny in against his locker.

“Leave him alone, Dash.” Sam tried to put herself in between them, but Danny held out his hand. He had been sick of Dash for a long time, but now he was just done. “Yeah, so? What's it to you?”

“So, I want my share of your birthday money.” Dash sneered down at him. Danny wanted nothing more than to punch that look off of his face, but he knew that would get him suspended. He couldn't have another suspension on his record. 

“Okay, I’ll give you exactly your share of my birthday money.” Danny stuck his hand into his hoodie pocket and pulled it back out with his middle finger extended. 

“Mister Fenton!” Mr. Lancer’s scandalized gasp broke the tension. “To the principal’s office!”

“This isn't over, Fenton.”

“Get wrecked, Baxter.” Danny flinched slightly as Mr. Lancer’s hand came down on his shoulder, guiding him down the hall to the office. “Mr. Lancer, I didn’t do anything, he was trying to steal from me.”

“This isn’t about that. Although I do not approve of such crude gestures.” Mr. Lancer didn’t explain what it was about, only pushed open the door to the principal's office. 

“Mom, Dad? What’s going on?” Maddie’s face was pinched and red, the way it got when she was trying to work out a difficult problem, and Jack was unusually subdued. 

“Oh, Danny. You’re father and I have decided to pull you out of school for the day. Do you have everything you need?”

“Um,” Danny shifted the bag on his back. “Yeah, I think so.” This was weird, his parents never took him out of school. He always had to go, even when he was sick. 

“Good, we have already signed you out, so let’s go.” Maddie led the way out of the office without another word, and Jack followed up behind him. The drive home was silent. Danny sat in the back and tried not to panic. Maddie had the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip but was careful to follow every speed limit and stop sign, a far cry from her usual lead-footed approach to driving. 

“Just put your bag by the door and come down to the lab.” Maddie opened the door and led him into the house.

“Is something wrong?” He always got in trouble for leaving his bag by the door. It was usually the first thing his mom would say when he got home.

“Nothing’s wrong. There were just some… abnormalities in your blood work, that’s all. We want to run a few more tests, just to make sure everything is alright.” Maddie smiled a tight smile. Danny looked back at his dad. He still hadn’t said anything, his usually expressive face was held carefully blank. The pieces clicked into place. The computer finished the analysis quicker than he was anticipating. They had found the ectoplasm in his blood. Everything in him was screaming at him to run, but he stood rooted to the spot. Running would only confirm to them that he is overshadowed, and there was a chance that he could still talk his way out of this.

“What kind of abnormalities? Is something wrong with me?” He hated playing up the scared son act. It made him feel just as manipulative as his parents always claimed ghosts were.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. There’s just a high level of ectoplasm in your blood. We want to make sure you’re okay.” She was still smiling that tight smile, Dad still hadn’t said anything. 

“Okay, I mean I feel fine. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me.” He said, pressing a hand to his chest. If he concentrated enough he could feel his core humming, even in his human form. 

"I know, dear. It's just a precaution." 

Danny nodded and followed his mom down the stairs to the basement. 

"First I want to make sure there isn't any outside contamination, so go ahead and scrub up to the elbows." Danny crossed to the stainless steel sink and scrubbed with the orange decontamination soap. He hated that soap, it always made his skin prickle. He rinsed the suds off and patted his arms dry before heading over to the exam table. 

"Alright, pop up here and we will take another sample." Danny did so, careful not to touch anything with his clean hands. The second blood draw was longer than the first. Maddie took vial after vial of blood, all while Jack stood like a silent shadow in the background. 

Danny watched as his Mom put the vials into the centrifuge. As it hummed to life she turned to him with a blood pressure cuff and a stethoscope. "Alright, time to check your blood pressure." Danny nodded. That was fine, his blood pressure ran a little low, but not worryingly so. Sure enough, Maddie pulled the cuff off a few minutes later with a smile "115 over 60, pulse is 65." 

"Normal," Jack said in a small voice, so unlike the man who was usually brimming with energy. 

"Yep. Now, let's check your heart." He had never been so grateful for the fact that a ghost core hums at a pitch too high for humans to hear. 

Over the next few minutes, Maddie listened to Danny's heart, his lungs, and even his stomach, declaring every new sound normal. The centrifuge beeped just as Danny was pulling his shirt back on. 

Jack popped open the lid without a word and held one vial up to the light. "Mads, look at this." Danny glanced over at his serious tone. His blood was separated in the vial, the yellow plasma at the top, then the red blood underneath that, and under the red blood was a thin layer of bright green ectoplasm. 

Maddie choked off a gasp before shaking her head. "That just confirms that he's contaminated, Jack. Everything else is normal." She said, not quite quietly enough for Danny not to hear. She turned back to her son, the tight smile back on her face. "Danny, can you think of any time when you could have come into contact with a large amount of unfiltered ectoplasm?"

Every time I go into the Ghost Zone. 

He shook his head "I don't think so…" no, he had to give them something, or they would keep digging. "Except… except the accident with the portal." 

"The portal? But it was just a little shock." Jack said, shaking his head. Maddie, however, looked thoughtful. 

"Jack, can you get the light?" She asked as she pulled a small flashlight from a drawer. Jack turned the lights off, plunging the basement into darkness for a few seconds before the purple-blue of a black light filled the space. "Can I see your arms?" Danny held out his arms and Maddie shone the light over them. 

Danny wasn't surprised to see the Lichtenberg figure glowing toxic green up his left arm like a bolt of lighting. He had seen it before, but he gasped anyway.

After that, Maddie had declared them done with tests for the day and sent him up to his room. He went, but transformed into Phantom and flew back down. 

"He's not a ghost, Jack. You know that ghosts aren't capable of mimicking human vital signs." 

"I know, but I don't like my son being contaminated."

"I know, neither do I. But, it's been years, and nothing bad has happened yet. At least now that we know we can start a decontamination process." They were both quiet for a long time before Jack spoke up again. 

"Do you think… if Danny was so badly contaminated from such a small shock, do you think the portal may be leaking ectoplasm?" Maddie's posture stiffed at that, both of them eyed the closed blast doors.

"No… no, surely we would have noticed." But she didn't sound sure. "Hand me the Fenton Finder. I can modify it to detect ambient ectoplasm." 

A few minutes later Maddie turned the machine on. It immediately started a shrill beep, a computerized voice cut through the noise. "Dangerous levels of unfiltered ectoplasm detected in the area." Maddie and Jack both gasped before Jack slammed the emergency shutdown button on the portal. 

Danny expected things to change. He expected to be subjected to experiments and tests and pokes and prods and all sorts of uncomfortable things. Instead, life continued normally. 

Mostly. 

Jack and Maddie spent more time than usual in the lab if that was possible. And they wouldn't allow Danny or Jazz down. It was starting to bother him.

"They're taking this hard, Jazz. I'm afraid that they are going to do something dangerous." He said to her as they drove to school. 

"But you said they shut the portal down. That has to be good, right?" 

"They didn't just shut it down, they dismantled it. That was their life's work, their crowning achievement. And now it's in pieces."

"Alright, that is worrying. Still, no more ghost attacks. You might finish out the year with a B minus." 

"I'm serious, Jazz."

"So am I, Danny. There are only a few more weeks of school, and next year you are a senior. Take this opportunity to do your best on your finals, and you can get into a good college after that." 

Danny sighed. "Okay, I'll try, but I can't help but feel like something awful is going to happen." 

The rest of the school year passed in a blur of studying, and tests. Jazz, of course, graduated Valedictorian, and Danny managed to scrape by on Bs and Cs and one A in art due to a painting he did of the Andromeda galaxy. 

Before they could get settled into the summer, Jack and Maddie sat Danny and Jazz down to make an announcement. 

"Kids," Maddie started. Danny looked at her for what felt like the first time in months. He had never noticed the fine lines around her mouth and eyes, or the silver hairs peeking through the red. "Your father and I have been talking, and we have decided that it's best if we move." 

"What?" Danny felt like he had been punched in the gut by Skulker. 

"We can't move, what about school? Danny is entering a critical stage in the development of his social group. If his friend group falls apart at this stage, he may never make other friends." 

"Jazz, we think it's best for Danny if we move," Jack said. He didn't look at Danny. This was the longest he had been in the same room as Danny since the ecto contamination had been discovered. 

"Danny, we have been looking into it, and the safest way to decontaminate is to go to an area with very low levels of ambient ectoplasm. Over time, the ectoplasm will leach out of the subject and into the atmosphere." Maddie explained.

Danny wasn't sure how that would work for him since his ghost half can make ectoplasm using the energy from his human half. "How long?"

"Two, maybe three years, if our calculations are correct." 

"Three years? I can't move away for three years! What about Sam and Tucker?" 

"Danny, this is what's best for you. Your father and I have already accepted research positions, and have started negotiations for a house. This is happening, whether you like it or not." 

Danny glared at the table, angry beyond words. They sat in tense silence until Jazz spoke.

"Where are we moving to?" 

"Gotham City."

Chapter Text

There is a new kid sleeping at Tim's desk. Okay, so the school year just started and desks haven't been assigned yet, but the last seat in the row closest to the door was going to be Tim's seat. He had even gotten to class early to make sure he got it, and this kid was already here, and asleep? 

No.

The rational part of his brain said to let it go, to get the seat in front of him, that it wasn't a big deal, to just sit somewhere else. 

Instead of doing that Tim marched to the back row and tapped on the desk. The kid slowly raised his head until icy blue eyes, red-rimmed from exhaustion, peered out at him from under a mop of black hair, then quickly scanned the room and landed back on Tim. 

"What?" The kid asked, pushing the hood of his well-worn red jacket off his head.

"You're in my seat." 

The kids' eyes darted around the room again. "It doesn't have your name on it."

Tim bristled at that because he's right. But still, nothing had gone right that morning. He woke up late and missed breakfast because of it, broke his favorite coffee mug, and now the seat he wanted was taken. "Just sit somewhere else, it's not a big deal." 

"Then stop making it a big deal." He said before dropping his head back down on his arms, ignoring Tim's incredulous look. Other kids were starting to filter into the room, so Tim quickly took the seat in front of the new kid and waited for class to start. 

The teacher, Mr. Kirk, started class without any fanfare at exactly eight o'clock. He started with roll call, and the kid behind him didn't sit up until his name was called. Tim took note of the name (Daniel Fenton) 

Then they went over the syllabus, and Tim would have preferred Daniel remain asleep because the incessant click click clicking of the other boy's pen behind him was driving him up the wall. 

But all that wasn't the worst part of the class. No, the worst part was when Mr. Kirk announced that their mid-term project was a partnered project and pulled names out of a fishbowl to decide who had to work together. He listened in growing apprehension as each of his classmates were paired off, listening for his name until "Timothy Drake and…. Daniel Fenton." 

The clicking stopped for the first time all class and Tim heard a distinct "ugh" before the sound of a forehead hitting a desk.

***

Danny hates Gotham. 

He hates the Brownstone his parents bought when they moved. Hates the way his new bedroom always smells like mildew. Hates the way clouds block out the sun almost every day. Hates the way the light pollution hides the stars every night. Hates the way he has to look over his shoulder for muggers and pickpockets and insane people trying to take over the city every other week. 

The thing he hates the most is the way his powers decided that the ever-present noise of the city was a threat that needed constant monitoring. He could do without super-hearing in the middle of one of the noisiest cities in the world, thank you very much. 

He had settled into his first class in his new school and for the first time in weeks, it was quiet. The thick cinder block walls blocked out the sound from other rooms, and the bulletproof glass in the windows damped the sound from outside. He had just nodded off when a boy with more attitude than sense interrupted his nap, stomping up to his desk like he was trying to make as much noise as possible, and demanded he moves. 

Danny was not in the mood for it. He was going on day three of his migraine, and he was running on no sleep and he was not having it. Honestly, the kid was lucky he was as nice as he had been. 

Then the room filled with the noise of other teenagers, rustling clothes, and the teacher was droning on about the syllabus, and he could hear twenty-six hearts beating out of sync, Tim's stomach was gurgling in a way that Danny knew meant he only had coffee for breakfast and he just needed to be able to focus on something. He started fiddling with his pen.

Click

Click

Click

Yes… he could focus on that. He knew he was annoying everyone around him, he was annoying himself, but he didn't care. The steady noise was calming his nerves. And then…

"Tim Drake and Daniel Fenton"

Ugh. He was not looking forward to this semester.

***

After Mr. Kirk assigned lab partners and went over the rubric for the midterm project he allowed the class to get in their group and start on the project. It was already proving to be an issue. 

"We can't build a rocket engine, it's not one of the options on the rubric," Tim said.

"Those are examples. The rubric just says 'pick a physics topic, and design an experiment to prove the concept.'" Danny said, pointing out the relevant sentence.

"We can not bring a rocket to school," Tim argued. “there is no way the school's insurance would cover that.”

"Just a small one," Danny said, holding his hands a few inches apart. “Model rocket size.”

"No." Tim crossed his arms over his chest and stared down the other boy.

Danny sighed  "Fine, what do you think we should do?" 

"Electromagnetism,” Tim said. It was one of the topics listed on the rubric, at least. “We could build a scale model mag-lev train."

"Everyone has seen a mag-lev train, that's not interesting."

"It doesn't need to be interesting, it just has to meet the guidelines, and not catch the school on fire." 

Danny grumbled a bit more before sighing. "Fine, fine. We can do electromagnetism."

"Alright." Tim wrote 'Electromagnetism/scale mag-lev train' on the rubric. "When are you free so we can work on this?"

Danny shifted in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes focused on a spot on the ceiling. "My schedule is kinda hard to nail down." Danny looked away from the ceiling and looked directly at Tim for the first time since he sat down. "How about I give you my number, and we can work out a time when we are both free?" 

Tim was distracted by how blue Danny’s eyes were. "Yeah, let's do that." 

Danny grinned and scribbled a number on the top of Tim’s rubric just as the bell rang. Danny grabbed his bag and headed out the door quickly, and even though it only took Tim a few seconds to put his things away there was no sign of the other boy in the hallway.

Not that Tim was looking for him, or anything. Not at all.

***

Tim's second class of the day was Gym. It wasn't hard, really, given his night job. That didn’t stop the jock types singling out the smallest kid in class, which happened to be Tim. So after an hour and a half of dodging red rubber balls, he was ready for lunch. He was starving. He had woken up too late for a proper breakfast and had only had time to grab a cup of coffee. Alfred would be so disappointed in him. However, he had English Lit first. It was just an hour and a half. He could survive that long.

He got to the classroom well before the bell rang, but a familiar red hoodie was already slumped over the desk. Tim sighed but sat in the seat next to Danny without making a fuss this time. Tim's stomach gave a pitiful rumble, but he ignored it. There was nothing he could do about it right now. Instead, he pulled out his notebooks and pencils. 

Danny sat up in his seat and glanced over at Tim for a second before digging in his bag. Tim ignored him until Danny tapped him on the arm with… a protein bar? He gave the other boy a questioning look, but Danny just shook the snack until Tim took it. That seemed to satisfy him because he laid his head back down. 

Tim checked the ingredients. If he had to be rushed to the ER again because he accidentally ate walnuts, he would never live it down. It was, thankfully, nut-free, so Tim ate quickly before class started. It wasn't a large snack, but it was enough to tide him over until lunch.

After class, Danny disappeared in the hallway again and then wasn't in the cafeteria, either. That's not so weird, he thought, he could have gone to the library to check out the reading materials for English. What did it matter to Tim if Danny didn't take lunch in the lunchroom, anyway? It didn't affect him at all.

***

Danny walked into the empty house his parents had bought and tossed his backpack onto the coffee table and immediately went to check the fridge. He was starving. He never should have given Tim his last protein bar, but he didn’t want to listen to the boy’s stomach growl all class. It was hard enough concentrating with all the other noise going on. 

The only thing to eat in the fridge was a Tupperware container of lasagna that moved when he opened the lid. 

"NOPE!" Danny tossed the container back into the fridge and slammed the door. He did not have the patience to deal with sentient leftovers tonight. That meant that he would have to go get food. That's alright, he needed to go for a fly, anyway. It had been a few days.

***

Tim sat on a gargoyle and stared out across the Gotham city skyline. It was a rare night with no clouds, and the nearly-full moon shone bright, cutting through the lights of the city. It was a slow night for crime. He had stopped a couple of muggings and an attempted kidnapping, but all the major players were laying low for now. 

His com crackled to life in his ear. “Red Robin,” Batman said, effectively breaking him out of his trance.

“Yeah, B?” 

“The new Meta has been spotted close to your location. Get close and see what you can see, but do not engage,” he said gruffly. 

“Copy that,” Tim sighed before taking one last look at the skyline. The Meta had been spotted by Orphan a couple of months ago and they had tried to keep an eye on him. It was all they could do since none of them could get close enough to talk to him. 

Tim made his way over to where the Meta had been spotted. They really needed to figure out a code name for him, maybe Ghost since he disappeared quicker than Batman. At first, he thought his info was bad, but then he spotted him sitting on top of a water tank eating a hamburger. 

Tim had never seen Ghost this close before. Pale, almost translucent skin seemed to glow blue in the moonlight, and snow-white hair rippled and moved on its own like a candle flame. Tim got glimpses of pointed ears through the flickering locks. 

"I can see the Meta," He said into his com. Toxic green eyes snapped to him before Ghost disappeared. "Shit, no, come back!" But Ghost was gone.

Chapter Text

Tim wasn't able to sleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Ghost again. There was a disconnect that he couldn't shake. Ghost was young, teens or early twenties at the most, but his eyes held wisdom beyond his years. He didn't know much about the Meta, but he was sure the boy had been through a lot. When his alarm went off at six he was already reviewing security footage from the night before. Ghost lived up to his name: he appeared out of nowhere, sitting on the water tower, a paper bag from Bat Burger in his hand. 

-Wait- 

It didn't take him any time at all to find a camera outside of Bat Burger. Tim watched the footage of the hour before Ghost appeared, but there were no green-eyed, white-haired teenagers in black and white hazmat suits visiting Bat Burger that night. 

With a heavy sigh, Tim got out of bed and started getting dressed for school. It was still early so he stopped by his favorite coffee shop on his way to school. Maybe with enough caffeine, he can forget about his lack of sleep.

Tim pushed the heavy door open and was hit with the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans and shouting. 

"All I want is a macchiato latte! Are you new?" A middle-aged woman yelled.

"I'm sorry," The barista, Blake, according to his name badge, responded evenly. "Can you tell me what's wrong with this one, so I can make it right?"

"It has milk in it!" 

Blake kept his face carefully blank. Tim was impressed by his control, he wasn't even the one being yelled at and he wanted to smack the woman. "So that's a macchiato latte with no milk. I'll have that right out." 

"Finally," She turned and spotted Tim. "Can you believe the service here? Who puts milk in a macchiato?"

"Considering 'latte macchiato' is Italian for 'marked by milk' I'd say everyone in the world but you," Tim said evenly. The woman sputtered out some rebuff before grabbing her original drink and storming out of the cafe. 

"Thank you!" Blake said "She's in here every week complaining about something stupid. Whatever you want today is on the house." 

Tim smiled and ordered his usual red-eye, and Blake put an extra shot in for him. He also gave him the woman's 'milkless latte' which was just a regular macchiato with no milk foam. In the end, he made it to school way too early, as the building wasn't even open to students yet. There weren't many students there yet, but one red hoodie stood out. Danny was sitting slumped against the wall beside the door. Tim walked over and Danny raised his head. He looked more tired than he did the day before. 

"Hey. The guy at the coffee shop gave me this, but I'm not going to drink it. Do you want it?" Tim held out the drink to the other boy, but Danny didn't make any move to take it, just gave him a calculating look. "It's a macchiato."

"Sure," Danny said, taking the cup from him. "Thanks." 

"Don't mention it." Tim leaned against the wall and sipped on his coffee. Danny took a long sip before breaking off with a sigh of contentment. "Is it good?"

"It's the first cup of coffee I've had in months that didn't come from a convenience store. It's amazing." 

"You don't make it at home?" Tim squatted down next to Danny.

"No. My sister convinced our parents that coffee can stunt academic performance, so they banned it from the house." Danny said before taking another long sip. 

"That must have been hard." There had been several attempts by Alfred to limit his caffeine intake while he lived in the manor, and none of them ended well for anyone. 

Danny shrugged "I keep taking all her good pens whenever she visits, so I guess we're even."

They fell quiet, both drinking their coffees until Tim turned to Danny and asked "are you doing anything this weekend?" 

"I don't have any plans, why?" 

"The proposal for our physics project is due next week. I was thinking we could do it over the weekend, that way we don't have to worry about it." He said it as nonchalantly as he could, but his heart rate picked up as he waited for Danny's answer. 

Danny cocked his head to the side and gave Tim a curious look. It felt strangely like he was being studied. "Alright, we can do that." 

Tim was about to respond when he was interrupted by the Vice Principal unlocking the doors. Danny popped up so fast Tim thought he might have been bitten. "See you later, rich boy." He said before disappearing into the building. 

The rest of the week passed by quickly, and soon he and Dick were suiting up for their Friday night patrol.

"You're in a good mood," Dick said as Tim smoothed the front of his costume down. "Did something happen at school?"

"No? I mean, not really. It's high school." Tim said. “There isn’t much to be happy about there.”

"I know, but you were so resistant to the idea of going back to finish your diploma, I expected you to be more upset," Dick said, sliding his escrima sticks into their holders on his back.

"Little brother has a crush," Cass said, her voice quiet but sure.

“Cass, when did you get here? I thought you were still in Hong Kong.” Tim did not jump at her sudden appearance, shut up.

Finished early, came home. she signed as she crossed the cave to hug both boys. 

“You have a crush? On who?” Dick asked excitedly.

“I don’t have a crush. I’m just… I have this partnered physics project thing, and the guy I’m working with actually seems smart. I’m just excited to not have to do all the work myself for once.” he defended. Tim didn’t have time for crushes. And he didn’t like guys, anyway, so he couldn’t have a crush on Danny.

Cass and Dick shared a meaningful look but mercifully decided to drop the subject. “Alright, if you say so, Red,” Dick said with a smirk. Tim scowled back at him.

“Come on, it’s alright. I just want to help.” Danny whispered to the Shade. For a city with so little ambient ectoplasm, Gotham had a large number of Shades. He figured it had to do with all of the tragic deaths that happened here over the years, and he wasn’t entirely convinced the city itself wasn’t cursed. 

“Please, I just want my momma.” the Shade cried. She was just a little girl, four or five when she died. Danny had found her while he was flying around the city. She had been hiding in the corner of what used to be an apartment building. A fire had mostly destroyed the building. Due to the location and the soot on the girl’s face and singed nightgown he didn’t have to wonder how she had died. Danny wanted to cry at the tragedy of it all, but not right now, not in front of the little girl that just wanted her momma.

“I know, do you know who I am?” The little girl shook her head. “My name is Phantom. I’m a…” no, he couldn’t say ghost, he didn’t want to send her into a panic. “I’m a friend. Can you tell me your name?” 

“I’m Cindy. Please, I just want my momma.” 

CRASH! 

Something slammed into the wall outside of the building with a metallic clang and Cindy disappeared. Danny tried to sense her, but she had fled. Danny cursed and phased through the wall and stopped. The vigilante that had spotted him the other night, Red Robin, was crouched against a dumpster clutching his side. He turned invisible before the vigilante could spot him and got ready to fly away when he heard the voice. 

“Where’d you go, little birdie? We were just getting started.” a rough voice called from the opening of the alley. Danny could hear Red Robin’s heart rate pick up and his breathing catch. He shouldn’t get involved. He deals with ghosts, not vigilantes and thugs. He doesn’t need to get on Batman's radar any more than he already has. He really should leave. Red Robin took his hand off of his side and gripped his bo staff, and Danny could see a smear of red on the shiny metal. He looked back to the thug and the knife in his hand and the gun in his pants and Danny knew. This was not a fight Red Robin was going to win. Danny ignored the voice that was screaming at him that ‘this was a bad idea’ and swooped down to Red Robin.

He pressed one hand against the vigilante’s mouth and grabbed the bo staff with the other. Red Robin jumped when Danny passed his invisibility on like he wanted to fight, but Danny pressed the bo staff against his chest, pinning him to the dumpster. 

“I know you’re here, little birdie. I saw you crash.” the thug said as he slowly made his way down the alley. Red Robin twitched again, Danny looked into the white-out lenses of the vigilante’s mask and shook his head. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” the thug sang in a mockery of innocence as he turned the final corner around the dumpster. “The hell?” Danny and Red Robin froze. Red Robin was looking up toward the thug and Danny was watching Red Robin for any signs that he was going to fight. “Shit.” the thug cursed before turning around and marching out of the alley. Danny waited until the thug was on the next block before dropping his invisibility and letting Red Robin go. 

Red Robin slid down the side of the dumpster when Danny let him go, one hand going back to the wound on his side. Danny wasn’t sure what he should do now, so he turned to leave, only to be stopped by a bo staff pointed at him. 

“Who are you?” Red Robin panted out through gritted teeth.

“No one you need to worry about,” Danny said before turning invisible and flying away.

Chapter Text

Tim could still feel Ghost's ice-cold fingers wrapped around his face, even hours later. Even after a long hot shower. Even through patching up the wound in his side. He still felt the phantom fingers pressing into his cheeks. He had been grabbed like that before, a hand over the mouth to keep him quiet, but it had always been rough, painful. Ghost had been firm, but gentle. And he had saved him from what would have likely have been a severe beating. 

He ran a hand over his face as he waited for his mask footage to upload. He hadn't recognized the thugs that had jumped him, and he wanted to get their faces into the database as soon as possible. And if he managed to get some good shots of Ghost, well, that would be alright. 

Four hours later, he had nothing but a headache. Something had interfered with his mask camera and corrupted the footage of Ghost, leaving only a blurry black and white impression of the meta. He groaned and stood up, hissing when the motion pulled on his wound. He needed more coffee before he could attempt to fix whatever corruption was going on with the footage. He was about three steps away from the kitchen when his phone went off.

Danny from Physics

im at the library

are you inside

Shit! He forgot about the study date with Danny. No, not a date. The study session. Whatever. 

I'm sorry, I'm running a little lateI

'll be there in fifteen

He tossed the phone on his bed and pulled on a pair of jeans that were mostly clean and hurried to brush his teeth.

its fine

i have some other stuff to work on

Okay

Sorry again

it happens

ill be in reference when you get here

Tim hurried through getting dressed and practically sprinted to the elevator. He slipped out of a side door when he got to the ground floor and ran down the sidewalk, earning himself some shouts of protest from other pedestrians. It's a good thing the library was only a couple blocks away from his apartment. Tim cursed under his breath at the red 'DON'T WALK' sign and hit the button. His wound was burning from the exertion. If he reopened it he'd have to ask Alfred to stitch him up, and then he would be benched for a week while it healed. 

Tim groaned and pressed the pedestrian walk button again. He knew they didn't work, but it helped him get rid of the nervous energy. He had been the one to suggest the library, and here he was, late.

Finally, the cross light turned green and Tim practically jogged across the street and the remaining half block to the library. He took the steps two at a time, texting Danny as he did. The answering text came as Tim pulled open the heavy door, and headed to the reference section. 

Danny was sitting at a large table with a newspaper archive open in front of him. He held his phone above the page and took a picture. Technically you weren't supposed to do that. You were supposed to ask the librarian for the page to be copied, but Tim knew Barbara didn't mind when patrons took pictures of the books. She’d rather they take a picture than tear the page out of the book.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Tim gingerly sat in the seat across from Danny, careful not to aggravate his wound anymore than he already has.

"It happens," Danny said, carefully folding the newspaper back and setting it aside. "Did you run here?" Danny asked, a small teasing smile on his face. 

"No. I walked really fast." Tim defended. He could feel his cheeks burning. 

"Right." Danny shook his head. "Anyway, I went ahead and got some books on electromagnetism, as well as books on the mag-lev trains in Japan and South Korea." He said, patting the small stack of books beside him. "They can give us an idea of how to approach the ‘city proposal’ part of the project.” Danny paused for a second, looking a little confused. “Isn’t it weird that they are having us write a proposal for the city?” 

“Not really. A lot of the people at Gotham Academy are in line to inherit their parent’s businesses. A lot of those businesses have contracts with the city or the government, so knowing how to prepare and present a project to the city is considered advantageous. It’s why so many of the Gotham elite send their kids there.” Tim said, pulling one of the texts toward him. Danny wrinkled his nose. 

“Gotham elite? Is that what the rich folks call themselves?” he said with distaste. 

“Yeah, it sounds a little stuck up.” Tim said apologetically.

Danny laughed. “More than a little.” he said with a smile. Tim found himself smiling, too.

The train set model was built by a joint venture of Siemens and Thyssencoo … Thyssencrop .. Theyshinec… ThyssenKrupp 

Tim rubbed his eyes as the words on the page blurred together. They had been working mostly quietly for about an hour, and his lack of sleep the night before was starting to get to him. His headache had progressed from a dull ache to a slow throb. He would kill for a cup of coffee right about now. 

Danny sighed and rubbed his neck. “I could really use some coffee, you?” 

“Are you a mind reader?” Tim asked. Danny laughed and shook his head. Tim closed the book he had been struggling to read and started packing up. “There’s a cafe about a block from here that has the best espresso.” Danny was quick to pack, too, and after they had put their books in the book return they headed out to the coffee shop. 

He ordered his usual Red-eye with two extra shots, and after a minute of deliberating, Danny ordered the same. Tim usually drinks his coffee black, but Danny took a minute to put sugar into his before they found a table in the corner. “So.” Tim said after they had settled with their drinks. “What made you want to move to Gotham?”

Danny stilled for a second before answering. “My parents thought a change of scenery would be good for me.” he said ruefully. 

“Most people go to the country if they want a change of scenery.” Tim took a sip of his coffee. “Not the most crime riddled city in the country.” 

Danny smiled at that. “My parents aren’t most people. What about you? What makes you stay?”

Tim shrugged. “Gotham is my home, and my family is here.” 

“Does your family include a blond in a purple hoodie, a girl with a bob, a male model, and the personification of ‘if looks could kill’ in the form of a twelve year old?” Danny asked, eyes fixed on something outside the window behind him. Tim turned around quickly. Stehphanie, Cass, Dick and Damian were seated at an outdoor table, surreptitiously staring at them through the window. 

“What are they doing here?” he hissed.

“They’ve been following us since the library.” Danny said nonchalantly. “Do you want to go say hi?” 

Tim sighed and rubbed his temples. “No, I want them to go away.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to happen. The one with the bob is coming in.” Danny said, not bothering to hide his grin at Tim’s frustration. Sure enough, a few seconds later the bell above the door chimed and Cass came right up to their table and took a seat. 

“Hello, I’m Tim’s sister, Cass.” she said, holding out her hand to Danny.

“Hi, Cass, I’m Danny. It’s nice to meet you.” Danny shook her hand. Cass looked concerned for a second. 

“You’re cold.” She said it like a fact. 

“No, just my hands. They’re always cold.” Danny said, tucking his hands into his hoodie pocket. The bell dinged above the door and the rest of Tim’s family came into the cafe.

“Cass, what are you all doing here?” Tim asked, his voice strained. 

“We were spy-” Cass was cut off by Dick placing his hand over her mouth. 

“Tim! I didn’t know you were here! What a coincidence!” he said, sliding into the fourth seat. Damian and Steph pulled chairs from another table over and squeezed in around the table, forcing everyone to squeeze in closer. Tim ended up brushing elbows with Danny. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend?” 

“No, Dick. Why are you here?” Tim practically growled, his face turning red.

“Like I said, I wanted some coffee.” he said with a grin. 

Danny leaned over to Cass and asked. “Did he just call him a dick?”

Steph snorted “No, that’s his name.” 

Dick’s grin widened. “Dick Grayson, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Steph, Tim’s Ex.” 

“I wish you’d stop introducing yourself like that.” Tim said, resigning himself to his fate. 

Steph ignored him “And the surly one is Damian.” 

“I am not surly.” Damian defended. “I was tricked into this endeavor with the promise of a smoothie.” 

“I’m Danny. It’s nice to meet you all.” Danny said. “Is this all of your siblings?” 

“No, there’s a few more, but they shouldn’t be showing up.” He hoped Jason didn’t show up, he didn’t know how he would explain his brother-who-was-legally-dead. 

“Duke said he had a lot of homework to do, so he couldn’t come.” Dick said like he was pouting. 

“Wow. Are you all adopted?” Danny asked before stiffening up a little. “Sorry, that’s not. I just had heard some rumors.” he mumbled.

“I am the blood son. Everyone else is adopted.” Damian said. 

“Bruce has a habit.” Steph said. “If he sees an orphan, he’ll adopt them if he can.” 

“Bruce Wayne?” Danny asked, a grin spreading across his face. “Your dad is Bruce Wayne?”

“Yeah?” Tim asked warily. Danny started chuckling. “Why? What’s so funny?” 

“Sorry, it's just… my parents hate him.” Danny said, still chuckling. 

“What? Why?” Dick seemed confused. Tim was a little confused, too. They all had their problems with their adopted dad, but to the public he was a generally affable person. Most people thought he was a little stupid, but most people liked him well enough. 

“He wouldn’t fund their research like, fifteen years ago. Practically laughed them out of the office, if you believe dad when he tells the story.” Danny took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “Plus, my uncle Vlad doesn’t like him, so dad doesn’t like him on principle.” 

“Maybe I can talk to him about revisiting their proposal.” Tim started. He didn’t want Danny’s parents to hate Bruce for no good reason.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. They do enough with the little funding they have, they don’t need more.” Danny sat back in his seat, brushing against Tim’s arm as he went. Tim shared a confused look with Dick. Usually people were begging for funding as soon as they found out about their relationship to Bruce. 

"So, what kind of work do your parents do?" Dick asked. 

Danny paused for a second before answering. "They're working on finding new sources of renewable energy." 

"And Bruce turned them down for that?" Steph asked.

"That's not what they were working on then." Danny said, but didn't elaborate. 

Tim was about to ask what they had been working on when Danny's phone buzzed loudly on the table. He checked it and his nose scrunched up. 

"Speak of the devil." He grumbled "I gotta go, Mom and Dad need an extra set of hands." 

"Oh, I could give you a ride." Dick offered. 

"Nah, I'd rather not hurry home." Danny said, gathering his things. "Thanks for the coffee, Tim. It was nice to meet everyone." 

Everyone said their goodbyes and Danny left, heading toward the train station. As soon as he was out of earshot Steph turned to Tim with a grin.

"I can see why you like him, he's cute." Tim buried his head in his arms and settled in for the teasing.

Chapter Text

I can see why you like him.

Steph's words rang in Danny's ears as he walked to the subway station. Steph thinks Tim likes him. The thought almost made Danny laugh. Tim doesn't like him. The first time they met he was ordering him around.

 A voice that sounded an awful lot like Jazz spoke up in his head. He bought you coffee. Twice. Once, he corrected the Jazz sound alike. The first time at school was a fluke. And he's rich. He could buy the whole school coffee and it wouldn't mean anything. 

You spent all morning at the library together. For a school project we were assigned partners for. 

But he's so cute. Danny sighed and rubbed his temples. That's the problem. Tim was cuter than anyone had any reason to be. He could pull anyone he wanted. Danny was average at best. The thought that Tim Drake would have any interest in Danny Fenton was hilarious. 

***

There was a coffee sitting on Danny's desk the following Monday. Tim was sitting at his desk, sipping from a similar paper cup and working on homework for another class. 

"Did you bring me coffee?" Danny asked, picking up the to-go cup. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tim said, but the half-grin gave him away.

"Thanks, but you didn't have to do that." Danny took a sip and sighed. Red-eye with two sugars. Delicious. 

"No one should have to study physics noncaffeinated." 

I can see why you like him.

Steph thinks Tim likes him, but Danny knows that is ridiculous. Still, the coffee is appreciated. 

"Hey, Tim." A blond girl who sits a few rows up called over. Danny thought her name was Sarah. "Did you do the reading for English lit? I didn't understand a word." Sarah's voice had a bit of a giggle to it, and the way she smiled and twirled her long blond hair around her finger reminded him of Star back in Amity Park when she flirted with Kwan. Not that Kwan ever picked up on it. 

"Uh, yeah. I can let you read my notes. Shakespeare can be hard." Tim said, pulling a composition book from his bag. Danny set his head down on the desk and closed his eyes. 

I can see why you like him.

Please, Tim Drake could get anyone he wanted. There's no way he'd be interested in Danny.

***

"Cindy? Are you here?" Danny whispered into the dark of the burnt-out apartment complex. It didn't take long for the ghost to show up. They tend to be stronger when he's around due to the ectoplasm that he puts off. 

"You came back." There was a bit of a waver to her voice. 

"Of course I did. I said I'd help you." He said as reassuringly as possible. 

"People say that all the time. The police say that then they take daddy away." Cindy was glowing an eerie red with her anger.

"Your daddy was arrested? Do you remember his name?" Danny asked before thinking. Cindy's face twisted in thought before a slow dawning panic set in.

"No, I don't remember daddy's name. I can't remember mommy's name, either." Cindy was floating now with the force of her panic.

"Okay, it's okay, Cindy." He said as calmly as possible. "It's okay to forget things." 

"NO!" Cindy screamed. If there were any glass in the windows, it would have shattered. The sound knocked Danny out of the air and into a wall. When he got back to his feet he saw a ball of fire floating in the middle of the burnt-down apartment complex. At its center was Cindy. 

"Cindy!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, but she couldn't hear him. Lost in her panic, the flames, a physical manifestation of her fear. 

Shit shit shit. This is bad.

"What the hell is that?" A voice called from a broken window on what used to be the first floor.

Great, Red Robin was here.

"You should leave." He said without looking at the vigilante. "It isn't safe." 

"If it isn't safe for me, then it sure isn't safe for a civilian," Red said landing on the ground beside him and extending a bo staff. 

"Do I look like a civilian to you?" Danny indicated his pointed ears and black and white suit. 

"You're not any hero I've ever heard of." Red Robin said, looking him up and down.

"I'm not a hero, I'm a ghost. This is out of your jurisdiction." 

"Watch!" Red Robin called before shoving Danny backward out of the way of a tongue of fire. "What is that?"

"A little girl who misses her mommy," Danny said, not feeling inclined to explain more.

"What? It's attacking us."

"She's scared. Look, I deal with this all the time, if you aren't going to leave, then you need to take my lead and trust me." 

"I don't even know your name." 

"Call me Phantom," Danny said after a second of thought. It's not like Red Robin could find anything after Tucker purged the internet of any mention of him.

"Is that your name, or-" Red Robin was cut off as a whip of flame came hurtling towards them. Danny barely had time to raise a shield bubble around them. 

"Okay, here's the plan," Danny said. Cindy was getting more distressed the longer her powers were out of control.

"I usually come up with the plans," Red said peevishly. 

"Have you ever fought an out-of-control ghost child with a fire core? You got a plan for that? I'd love to hear it." Danny snapped. The longer this the more likely someone is going to get hurt. 

Red Robin opened his mouth, then shut it looking embarrassed.

"Thought so. Now, you go get the fire department, make sure the fire stays here in the building. I will try to calm her down." 

"You just want me out of the building." 

"That's exactly what I want. You can't help, you'll only get hurt." The last thing he needed was Batman on him for getting one of his partners injured.

Red took a few seconds to think about that. With one last look at the growing fireball, and the building slowly catching fire around them he nodded and grappled out of the building. 

With the human out of danger, Danny turned back to the fireball. He had an idea on how to calm her down, but he wasn't going to like it. He let the ice building in his core out, coating his skin with a thick layer of unmeltable ice. The ice spread out across the floor and up the walls in fractals. It sparkled with the flames, reflecting red and orange back at him. He started walking towards the fireball slowly. The ice followed him as he went.

"Cindy." He called when he was just outside the fireball. The child's eyes, glowing bright red, locked on to him. "Is it okay if I come in?" 

He couldn't hear anything outside of the roar of the flames, but he could see Cindy's mouth move in a silent cry for help.

"Okay." With one deep breath, Danny stepped into the flames. 

The heat was unbearable. Even with his ice covering every surface of his body he still felt like he was being cooked. He was being buffered on all sides by swirling flames, and it was a struggle not to get blown away by them. 

"Cindy." He reached out his hand. "It's okay. I know you're scared. I was scared at first, too. I can help you." Danny finally reached the child and grabbed her wrist gently. His ice steamed away immediately, and burning pain shot up his arm. Still, he didn't let go. Instead, he pulled Cindy into a tight hug and rubbed her back the same way he remembered his mom doing for him when he was little. 

Slowly, so slowly Cindy calmed down and the flames lessened. The vortex of fire disappeared and deposited the pair on the ground.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't want anyone to get hurt. I was so scared. I'm sorry mommy." Cindy kept mumbling apologies and Danny shushed her. Slowly her form changed from human to a silvery translucent shape. A form shades only take when they are completely drained.

"If I knew your plan was to walk into fire, I wouldn't have left." Red Robin said. He had never left, just waited outside the window. 

"That's why I didn't tell you my plan," Danny said as he stood, wincing as his newly acquired burns pulled. 

"Is that…" Red Robin stared at the lump in Danny's arm. "What is that?" 

"A child." He said, pulling the shade closer to his chest. "She's going to stay with me."

"We need to make sure it won't hurt anyone," Red said, extending his staff, readying for a fight. 

"She is under my protection." Danny ground out between clenched teeth.

"You don't have the authority to-"

"I am Phantom." Danny cut him off. "The ghosts of this realm are under my protection, and as such are my responsibility. Cindy is staying with me. If you don't like it, take it up with the Ancients." Danny said before lifting off the ground and flying away. 

Chapter Text

Tim likes lists. When things get overwhelming, lists help him organize his thoughts into easy-to-accomplish tasks. So, after his encounter with the meta, with Phantom, Tim makes a list. 

1. Find out who Phantom is.
2. Find out who Cindy is.
3. Find out who the Ancients are.

Okay, so it's not the best list, but it's a list. 

"You let the meta get away again." A voice echoed through the cave. 

"Shut up, Damian." 

"This is the third time. Are you that much of an idiot that you can't catch a single meta?" 

"I found out his name. What have you found out about him?" Tim challenged.

"Tt. It's not like his name has been helpful." Damian said, going back to the mats.

Tim hated that the demon brat was right. There was no record of a Phantom mentioned anywhere. Not one picture, video, or even a blog post mentioning the meta. It was suspicious. Someone was hiding Phantom, but until he could figure out who, he'd have to move on. 

Cindy was marginally easier. There was a Cynthia Howe who was reported among the missing in the apartment complex fire six years ago. Her mother, Michelle, had died in the fire. Her father, Cole, was in jail serving a life sentence. 

As far as Tim could tell, Cynthia's body was never recovered. And yet, Phantom had said she was a ghost. The ghost of a little girl who missed her mommy. 

After a little digging Tim came away with a plot number and a plan of sorts. All he needed to do now was implement it. He stood up quickly and had to sit back down again as the world tilted around him. Right. He hadn't slept since he woke up late on Saturday.

"Master Tim? Are you still down here?" Alfred called from the stairs leading to the manor.

"Yes, Alfred. I was just about to head out." 

"Perhaps," Alfred said after a second of observing him. "It would be better to stay the night here. It is almost a quarter to three." 

Tim tried and failed to suppress a jaw-cracking yawn. Perhaps it would be better to stay here. He'd get to grab one of Alfred's egg sandwiches for breakfast. 

"Alright, Alfred. I think you're right." 

The pleased smile, small though it was, was not missed. "Indeed."

Right before Tim settled into sleep he wondered if Danny would like Alfred's egg sandwiches, too.

***

Alfred drove Tim to school the next day. He was taking Damian to the middle school across the street anyway, and saying 'no' to Alfred when he uses logic is impossible. But he does get to enjoy his egg sandwich and coffee on the way. Alfred didn't say anything when he grabbed two from the freezer and popped them into the microwave. 

The drive to school was quiet. Damian didn't speak to him, which was a nice change of pace to their usual spats. He had been hanging out with Jon Kent, and the other boy had been good for mellowing out his little brother. Tim wondered if it was a little bit of Ma Kent's influence, as well. 

In any case, the ride to school was almost pleasant. Tim spent it staring out the window sipping his coffee. As they drove through the Bowery he was distracted by a familiar purple backpack and red hoodie. 

"Is there something wrong?" Alfred asked from the front seat. 

"That's my lab partner, Danny." He said, "in the red hoodie." He added unnecessarily since Danny was alone on the sidewalk. Alfred pulled the car over toward the sidewalk. "What are you doing?" 

"There is no sense making the young man take public transportation if we are heading in the same direction. Invite him to ride with us." 

Tim blinked once before rolling down the window and calling out. "Danny." Danny's head swiveled around and when he spotted Tim a bright smile spread across his face. 

"Hey, Tim. What's up?" Danny said, crossing over to the car, and taking headphones out of his ears. 

"Do you want a ride to school?" Tim asked. He heard Damian scoff something about 'picking up strays' but he ignored him. 

"Sure! Thanks." Danny said. Tim popped the door open and slid over to make room for Danny to clamber in after him. "Hey! Damian. Nice to see you again." He said when he spotted him in the front seat, Damian only answered with a click of his tongue.  

"Hello, Daniel. I'm Alfred. As soon as everyone is buckled we can go." 

"Oh, sorry Alfred. Thanks for the ride." Danny said, securing his buckle. 

"So, do you live around here?" Tim asked. For some reason that caused Danny to laugh. 

"Yeah, up on Ellis," Danny said, grinning. “I’m guessing you don’t.”

“No, well, I usually stay at my apartment in Somerset, but I stayed at the Manor last night in Bristol.” Tim said. “oh, I brought something for you.” he said, pulling the second egg sandwich out of his lunch bag. “Alfred makes these amazing egg sandwiches. I thought you might like it.”

“Wow, coffee yesterday, and breakfast this morning?” Danny said, accepting the sandwich. “You’re spoiling me.” 

“Can we cease the incessant chatter?” Damian demanded from the front seat. “I, for one, prefer to begin my day in peace.”

Danny cleared his throat as a blush crept up his neck and stared out the window. 

They rode the rest of the way to the school in silence except for Danny telling Alfred how good the sandwich was. Damian was dropped off first, and then Tim and Danny were driven across the street to the high school. They split up for their first class, and Tim was in a great mood for most of the morning. It was as he was heading to lunch that things started to go bad. 

“Hey, Fenton!” Tim paused putting his books in his locker and looked around. He didn’t see Danny, but Alex Duncan must have. There was a crowd forming down the hall, and he could see Alex’s red hair among the crowd. Tim crept closer to the crowd, wary but ready to jump in if necessary. The crowd was surrounding Danny and Alex, blocking all escape routes. From where Tim was standing he had a pretty good view of the scene. Danny had his back against the wall, lockers at his back, and Alex was standing close enough that he could probably grab him without too much effort.

“Saw you getting out of Wayne’s car this morning,” Alex said. “You’re spending a lot of time with him?” 

“What are you talking about, Duncan? I’ve never even met Wayne.” Danny said, adjusting the straps on his backpack. 

“I saw you at the coffee shop with his kids. It won’t be long before you’re one of ‘em.” Duncan said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Tim felt anger building in his chest as the crowd laughed. He had heard the rumors that people had spread when Bruce had taken in Dick, and again with Jason. He thought that kind of talk had died. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny asked, a dangerous quality to his voice. 

“Just that Wayne has a type and a pretty little thing like you? Well, let's just say you’ll fit right in.” Alex said with a smirk. 

Danny went eerily still. Tim wasn’t sure he was even breathing. His eyes flicked to Tim’s for a second, searching for something, before going back to Alex. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“What? What are you, some kind of fag?” Alex said with disgust. 

“You’re the one who called me pretty,” Danny said, a feral grin stretching across his face. “Which, I’m flattered, but you aren’t my type. I prefer guys with two brain cells to rub together.” 

The crowd 'oohed at that. Alex’s face twisted in anger. “What did you just say to me?” 

“I said if brains were dynamite, you wouldn’t have enough to blow your nose.” 

“I will end you!” Alex yelled. Tim saw it happen as if in slow motion. Alex threw a right hook, Danny flinched, and the punch landed squarely on Danny’s cheek. His nose immediately began to bleed. Danny’s feral smile became even more sinister as blood dripped down his face and onto his jacket. Alex reared back for another blow when Tim stepped forward and put a hand on Alex’s arm. 

“That’s enough, Alex.”

“What is going on here?” the Vice Principal’s voice echoed down the hall. The crowd scattered, leaving Danny, Alex, and Tim square in his sights. “Come with me, the three of you.” 

Vice Principal McBride said.

Danny, instead of following Mr. McBride, headed in the opposite direction. 

"Mr. Fenton, where do you think you're going?" 

"To the bathroom. I don't feel like bleeding all over my jacket." Danny said without turning around. 

Mr. McBride mumbled something before turning to Tim. "Mr. Drake, would you keep an eye on him? And bring him to the office when he gets that under control." 

Tim headed after Danny with a nod. He found the other boy in the first boy's room he came across. Danny had a wad of paper towels pressed against his face, already soaking through with red. There were splatters of blood on the counter and darker splotches of red on Danny's red jacket. 

"Danny? You okay?" Tim asked, taking in his shaking hands.

Danny met his eyes in the mirror and nodded. "Yeah, it's not the first time I’ve been punched in the face. Won't be the last.” Danny pulled the paper towel away from his face and cursed as blood dripped into the sink. "Hey, in my backpack is a red first aid kit, can you grab it?" He asked, wadding up some more paper towels.

"Yeah, sure," Tim said, unzipping the bag. He found the kit easily enough, since it was about the size of a lunch box, and handed it to Danny. He opened it one-handed and pulled out a nasal spray. Danny stuck one end up the nostril and pressed down, his face scrunching up in discomfort. When he pulled the device out, though, the bleeding had stopped.

"What is that?" Tim asked as Danny cleaned the tip with an alcohol swab.

"It's a styptic spray. It stops bleeding, but it burns like hell." Danny put the spray back into the kit and closed it before washing the blood from his hands and face. "Do you know how to get blood out of clothes?" 

"Uh, no. I could ask Alfred." Alfred could get anything out of anything.

"Right. 'cause that wouldn't be a concerning text to get in the middle of the day." Danny snorted. "I'm guessing McBride sent you to come and get me?"

"Yeah. He wants us to go to the office." Danny put the first aid kit back into his bag and tossed the bloody paper towels into the trash.

"Right," Danny said, holding the door open for Tim. They started walking back to the office.  

"So, you're gay?" Tim asked awkwardly after a minute.

"That's what you're worried about?" Tim shifted awkwardly. "No, Not exactly." Danny said "I like guys and girls. I think Pan describes it best." Danny stuck his hands in his jacket pocket.

"And your parents...when you came out..." Tim trailed off, unsure where the sentence was going to go.

"I didn't exactly come out. When Jazz brought home her first boyfriend, she didn't have to have a conversation about it. So when I brought home a boy for the first time... I didn't realize coming out was something people had to do. I didn't know anyone had a problem with it until Dash's parents freaked out when they caught us holding hands."

“What happened?” 

“Well, Dash didn’t want to play with me anymore. He’s a lot like Duncan now.” Danny said, shrugging his shoulders. "So far in the closet that he's almost in Narnia." Danny was quiet for a minute before he spoke up again. “What he said wasn’t true, right? About Wayne?” 

“No, of course not,” Tim said. “Bruce would rather die than hurt a kid like that.” Danny nodded. They had reached the office and the secretary waved them through into the vice principal's office. Alex was already there, arms crossed over his chest. 

"Now that we are all here." Mr. McBride began. "We can discuss what happened. As you are all aware, Gotham Academy has a zero-tolerance policy for fighting. So you will each be receiving a three-day suspension." 

"What?!" Danny half yelled.

"Mr. Fenton. Please…" 

"No, I will not!" Danny was on his feet now. "I get assaulted in your school, and I get suspended?"

"It's school policy for everyone involved in the fight to receive the same punishment." 

"I'm on scholarship! If I get suspended, I lose it. How's it fair that the guy who assaulted me gets three days off, and I lose my scholarship?" 

"The school has nothing to do with your scholarship."

"And Tim didn't even do anything, except try and stop the fight. He shouldn't get punished for that!" 

"Mr. Fenton." Mr. McBride stood up quickly, apparently done with being shouted down at. "That is enough. The punishment stands as is. Now, the three of you will go out to the front office and wait for your guardians to come to get you." 

Alex was the first to leave the room, practically bolting out the door. Tim stood, but Danny was still staring Mr. McBride down as if he were trying to set him on fire with his eyes. Then, Danny let out a long breath and turned around sharply, and marched out the door, Tim following behind him. 

It took ten minutes for Bruce to get to the school. When he walked into the office his eyes zeroed in on Tim, surreptitiously checking for injuries. "Are you alright, Tim? They said you were in a fight."

"I'm fine," Tim said, waving away Bruce's concern. "I tried to stop a fight." 

"Then, why are you in trouble?" 

Danny snorted. "The school has a zero-tolerance policy." 

Bruce eyed Danny's cheek, which was already starting to bruise, and the dried blood that he hadn't managed to clean off with the school's cheap paper towels. Then to Alex's bruised knuckles, no doubt putting the scene together from context clues. 

"Wait here, I'm going to have a chat with the Vice Principal." Bruce disappeared into the office. 

"Alright, I'm out," Danny said, standing up and heading out the door.

"What? You can't go." Tim said, chasing after him. "Danny, wait." Tim reached out and grabbed his jacket, holding him in place. "What about your parents?"

"They're at work. They won't be able to check their phones until around six tonight. I'm not staying here until then." Danny said. "Your dad will get you off suspension, so I'm going home." Danny tugged his jacket out of Tim's grasp and headed out of the school. 

Danny had been correct about Bruce getting his suspension lifted, and an apology from the Vice Principal to boot. No one mentioned Danny's disappearance. 

Tim started a new list on the ride home. 

1. Get Alex Duncan expelled
2. Make sure Danny doesn't lose his scholarship.

Thanks so much to anikuja for the chapter art!

Chapter Text

Danny didn't go home after leaving school. He had way too much pent-up rage to even think about going to that house. Instead, he found himself wandering around the Bowery and Crime Alley. The buildings here were older than in other parts of the city, and he hadn't had the opportunity to see them from the street. He has spent most of his time in ghost form flying above the city, but Cindy had been feeding off of his ectoplasm and he was feeling drained.

Danny had been wandering for hours and had been almost mugged three times. On one hand, it was good to be able to work out some of the aggression he was feeling. On the other, fighting was making him more drained. He needed to find a source of ectoplasm. Which is how he found himself in the cemetery just as the sun was setting. 

Cemeteries and graveyards were a good source of ectoplasm even away from thin spots like Amity Park. Battlefields were better, but any burial place would do. Danny walked among the stones, trailing fingers along the tops as he wandered. The ones closest to the gates were old and ornate. He had heard somewhere that Crime Alley, or Park Row as it's actually called, had once been the 'good' part of town. He could see the evidence of that in the gravestones and mausoleums that obviously belonged to the rich. He even recognized the last names of some of his classmates. 

As he got further into the cemetery the stones became smaller and cheaper. As death dates became more recent, the stones were becoming less well maintained. Danny sighed and bent down to clear the weeds that had overtaken a small headstone. "Dahlia Ruperts" he could read when he was done. He looked down the row of overgrown stones and shook his head. He might as well do something useful while he was here. 

***

"204…205…206… there. 207." Tim shifted his camera bag around to his side and knelt down next to the grave and brushed the leaves and debris away from the stone. The inscription was simple, as all city-funded graves were. Just the name, Michelle Howe, and a birth and death date. Not even a mention of a daughter. 

"No, come back! Where are you going?" Tim looked up. Danny was running over the crest of the hill but pulled up short when he was Tim.

"Danny?" Danny's eyes widened at the sight of him. 

"Tim! What are you doing here?" Danny rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, his eyes shifting between Tim and a spot a few feet to his left. When Tim looked, though, there was nothing there. 

"I was taking pictures for my photography class," Tim said, holding the camera bag up. "What are you doing here, it sounded like you were chasing something." 

"Ah, yeah. A…raccoon stole my granola bar." It was an obvious lie, but Tim let it go for now. 

"That sounds…frustrating. How's the nose?" Tim asked, pulling out his camera and fixing a lense to it. 

"Uh, it's fine," Danny touched the bridge of his nose as he came closer. "I heal fast. What kind of photography project are you working on?" 

"The piece is called 'Gothic Gotham'. I thought a graveyard would be a good place to start."

"Cemetery," Danny said, almost on impulse. Tim tilted his head to the side. "It's a cemetery, not a graveyard." Danny continued.

"What's the difference?" 

"Graveyards are attached to churches." Danny came to stand beside him, looking down at the stone he had cleared off. "If you're looking for Gothic, the older graves are probably your best bet. These are all pretty plain." 

“I was going to get some photos of the rows of headstones here since they are all identical.” Tim pulled out his camera. “I thought it would look a little spooky.” 

Danny laughed quietly at that. “Yeah. It’s a great night for spooky, what with the full moon.” 

“Full moon?” Tim looked up but couldn’t see anything past the cloud cover. He finished setting up the camera and focused the lens on Danny.

“Yeah, it’s a full moon tonight.” Danny was squatting in front of the grave Tim had cleaned off now. “A great time for ghosts, if you believe in that sort of thing.” Danny glanced at Tim over his shoulder with a wry grin. Before he had time to think about it, Tim snapped a picture. “Did you just take my picture?”

“My finger slipped, sorry.”

“It’s alright. Let me know how it turns out.” Danny stood from his crouch and brushed dirt from his hands. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get home. I’ll see you… well, not tomorrow.” Danny said with a grimace. “I’ll see you,” Danny said, turning to leave.

“Danny,” Tim called before he thought about what he was going to say. Danny turned halfway to look at him and Tim swallowed. “Can I text you later? We still need to work on our physics project.” 

Danny didn’t say anything for a second, then “Of course, you can. You have my number.” Then he walked away, back over the hill.

***

<<You can’t run off like that, Cindy.>> Danny hissed in Ancient. Cindy, still in her silvery-white shade form curled around his shoulders. He was always surprised by how cat-like ghosts were. Some could even purr when they were happy.

<<Momma was there, but she's gone now.>> Cindy said. Danny sighed.

<<Yeah. She's moved on to the Realms, I think.>> Danny said, running a finger over the shade's head. <<We'll have to wait for a portal to open, then we can go to her.>> 

Cindy answered with a trill and fell silent for a minute.<<He was familiar.>> 

<<Tim?>> Cindy answered with a core rumble that Danny figures meant 'yes' <<He was at the school today.>> Danny said, glancing for cars before jogging across the street.

<<No, that’s not it.>> 

<<Maybe you knew him before?>> He didn’t think Tim would have met Cindy before her death, but Tim was in the news pretty frequently for his charity work and Wayne Enterprises stuff, so she may have seen him before.

<<No.>> Cindy laid her head on his shoulder and he could feel her core calming down as she went into a deeper rest. Danny sighed, he wouldn’t be getting any answers out of her tonight.

***

Tim did have a project for his photography class, so he spent a good few hours taking pictures in the cemetery. By the time he got back to his apartment, it was almost two in the morning, getting late, even for vigilantes. He’d develop the pictures tomorrow. He still had some casework to look at, and he needed to check with Justice League Dark's files to see if they had anything on the Ancients or Phantom. That search was going to take the longest, so he started on it first. 

Two hours later, Tim was ready to bash his head in, or Constantine's head in, either way. He wasn't picky. Somehow the wizard had been put in charge of the Justice League Dark's records, which consisted of reports written in barely legible script and severely lacking in relevant details. After sifting through another in a long list of handwritten reports scanned into a PDF document that resulted in nothing but a worsening headache, Tim gave up his search and sent Constantine a message and shut down his computer. 

He should try to get a couple of hours of sleep, at least. He had to figure out how to keep Danny from losing his scholarship. It should be easy, just figure out who holds his scholarship and make a case for keeping him on. 

***

There were benefits to being the majority shareholder of an international multi-billion dollar fortune 500 company. One of them is never actually having to show up for work. As long as emails get responded to and papers get signed no one cares that Tim spends most of his time not at the Wayne Enterprises building. In fact, the board insisted on Tim finishing his high school diploma instead of getting a GED as he had planned. 

In any case, Tim still goes into the office on Tuesdays and Thursdays as a work/study arrangement with the school. So, after third period Tim headed over to the Wayne Enterprises campus and rode the elevator up to his office. The first thing he did was log into the scholarship system. Technically he wasn't on the scholarship board, but he did have access. Or, rather, he gave himself access. After a quick search, he sighed with relief. Danny did have a Wayne scholarship which had been marked for review due to disciplinary action. Well, that just won't do. It would be too suspicious if he un-marked it for review. Instead, he changed the report from the school to more accurately reflect what happened and added himself as a witness. With that done Tim set about doing his actual job.

***

Danny From Physics

>Danny:

>>I got a message from the scholarship board.

>>Apparently they aren't going to suspend my scholarship.

>>And there is a "pending investigation into the unfair treatment of scholarship students"

>Tim:

>>That's great! 

>>That you aren't losing your scholarship.

>>They opened an investigation?

>Danny:

>>yeah. I don't know much about it, that's all it said in the email.

>>Thanks

>Tim:

>>For what?

>>😇

>Danny:

>>Alright then, keep your secrets.

>Tim:

>>Are you quoting Lord of the Rings at me?

>Danny:

>>😇

***

Tim sighed and resisted the urge to rub his temples. It had been a long day. He had to put up with three meetings that could have been emails and four phone calls that should have been meetings. Being Tim Drake-Wayne; businessman, was somehow more exhausting than being Red Robin. Speaking of which.

"Red, do you have eyes on the shipment?" Batman spoke in his ear.

"I see it, B. Three crates. They are about to open one."

"Place your bets now," Jason said. "I'm hoping for weapons." Tim could hear the glee in his voice.

"It's drugs," Nightwing chimed in. 

"I agree with Nightwing," Robin said. "I believe it is drugs."

"It's stolen artifacts," Tim said. "From Lebanon or Syria." He adjusted the zoom on his mask to get a better look at the crates. "Survey says…" the men finished prying the nails off the crate and shoved the lid off. Inside was hay and straw, which was pulled out and strewn about until a small statue was pulled out. "It's artifacts."

There was a round of groaning on the coms and Jason said. "I don't think Red should get to play."

"None of you should be playing. This isn't a game," Batman said. "Let's go, on my signal."

The fight was over quickly. In the end, it turned out the artifacts were being used to smuggle drugs, so Tim, Dick, and Damian got the first pick of Alfred's after patrol snacks. 

They sat at the kitchen bar, a mix of cookies, and cupcakes as well as healthier options like fresh-cut fruit laid out before then. Tim was checking his phone for messages, and to his surprise, he had one from Danny.

Danny had sent him a picture of a model train at a hobby store.

>Danny:

>>This would be cool to modify for the project.

After that was a picture of the price tag, marking the kit at over two hundred dollars.

>Danny:

>>Nevermind. That's ridiculous.

>Tim:

>>I could buy it. 

>Danny:

>>I could make it from titanium for less than that. 

>>I have a soldering iron, and I'm not afraid to use it.

>Tim:

>>Where would you get that much titanium?

>Danny:

>>I know a guy. 😇

>Tim:

>>That reminds me!

>>I found my special edition box set of LOTR. We should watch it.

"Tim!" Dick yelled as a cookie hit him in the forehead.

"What was that for?" Tim growled. 

"For not maintaining your situational awareness," Damian said, another cookie in his hands poised to throw.

"Who are you texting at one in the morning, anyway, your girlfriend?" Jason said, a note of teasing in his voice.

"No, I don't have a girlfriend," Tim scowled. 

"I bet it's that Danny kid," Dick said, picking at a cupcake. "Timmy has it bad for him." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tim said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I don't have anything for Danny."

"Who's Danny?" Jason asked.

"Tim's lab partner. Who he took on a coffee date the other day," Dick said, conspiratorially. 

"We also gave him a ride to school several days ago, and Tim gave him one of Alfred's breakfast sandwiches," Damian added.

"The ones with the feta, egg, and bacon?" Jason asked. Damian nodded solemnly. Jason whistled. "You're right, Dicky, baby bird has a major crush."

"I do not! I'm not gay," Tim said. "I like girls. I dated Steph for like, three years."

"You don't have to be gay to like boys, Timbo". 

"I don't have a crush on Danny!" Tim could feel his face heating up at the accusation.

"So if he kissed you, what would you do?" Dick asked, a shit-eating grin stretching from ear to ear. 

Tim’s breath caught in his throat as the image clarified in his mind. He could feel his heartbeat speed up and his face grew hot. “I…” Tim swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. “I don’t know.”

Dick sniggered. “Tim and Danny, sitting in a tree. K.I.S.S.I.N.G.”

“If this conversation continues, I shall be K.I.L.L.I.N.G. you all,” Damian huffed, earning him a laugh from Jason and an affectionate hair ruffle from Dick. Tim’s phone vibrated in his pocket and his stomach did a flip when he read it.

>Danny:

>>That sounds awesome!

He was in trouble.

Chapter Text

Tim was woken up too early by one of his phones ringing, it took him a minute to find it in the dark. It was his vigilante line, the caller ID marked it an unknown number. He answered it anyway.

"This better be important," he grumbled.

"You messaged me, kid." Tim placed the accent and the smokers growl immediately.

"Constantine?"

"Yeah. Listen, I don't have a lot of time, but you need to stop looking into the Ancients. The more you look for them, the easier it will be for them to find you, and that is nothing but trouble." He said cryptically.

"What does that mean?" It was too early for riddles.

Tim heard the wizard sigh on the other end of the line. "Ancients are powerful beings, and as the name implies, they are old. They have power over the very concepts that govern our lives. Time, space, life, death, even dreams."

"Like Greek gods."

"Older than Greek gods, they are more like the Titans. How did you even hear about them?” 

"There's a…well, he calls himself a ghost. He mentioned them." Tim sat up and checked the clock. He'd only gotten a couple of hours of sleep.

Constantine was quiet for a while before he spoke again. "Phantom?" 

"You know him?"

"I know of him. He's powerful, but only dangerous if you piss him off. My advice? Stay away from Phantom and the Ancients. Leave the ghosts to the ghost hunters." With that Constantine hung up. 

Ghost hunters, huh? Tim pulled his laptop closer to him. He had some research to do.

It took Tim no time at all to find people calling themselves ghost hunters. It seemed like most of them had websites. Horrible websites that were hard to navigate. One, in particular, caught his eye: “FentonWorks, LLC”. They were temporarily closed, but under the About Us page, Tim was met with a family photo of a large man in an orange jumpsuit next to a red-haired woman in a teal jumpsuit. They must be Dr. and Mr. Fenton. Standing in front of them was a girl with long red hair and a boy Tim recognized as Danny Fenton.

Ghost hunters showing up in Gotham at the same time ghosts do? It could be a coincidence, but Tim hadn’t believed in those for a long time.

It looked like Red Robin was going to visit the Fentons. 

But first, he had school.

***

School was boring without Danny. Tim tried hard not to think about why that was too much, but since it was boring it dragged on and on. The only plus side was he got to use the school's darkroom to develop the pictures he had taken the other night. 

The darkroom didn't see much use; most kids used digital cameras for their photo projects. Tim owns and uses a digital camera sometimes, but there was something unique about film cameras that digital cameras didn't quite capture. 

Developing film had become something of a meditative practice when he was a child, and he found himself falling into the same rhythm as he developed his graveyard pictures. It was a calming hobby that required him to pay careful attention to timing and measurements for the negatives to be usable. He also enjoyed the thrill of seeing if his hard work had paid off, or if he had wasted a roll of film on blurry pictures. Tim finished fixing the negatives and rinsed the film before carefully removing the negatives from the film tub and hanging them to dry. As he squeegeed the water from the strips he studied the tiny images. 

Headstones backed by the Gotham skyline. A full moon shining from behind the cloud cover above the old Wayne Tower. A tree in the cemetery that had just started turning colors for autumn. He had taken two dozen photos of Gotham for this project, but only seven or eight had the look he was going for. He'd have to take more at some point. He stopped at the bottom of the strip and sighed. It’d didn’t look like his picture of Danny was going to turn out. It was blurry and looked like he had red eye. He could fix the red eye and sharpen the image in photoshop, but he had hoped for a clear photo. 

He hung the negatives in the drying cabinet and made a mental note to pick them up before he left school. He’d scan them into his computer at home rather than use the school’s computers. Just as he was finishing up cleaning the darkroom the bell rang for his next class. 

***

Finding Danny’s house was pretty easy; all it took was looking up his scholarship information and Tim had it. It felt strange to knock on the door— Tim was sure Batman would have just let himself in and waited in the shadows, but the Fentons hadn't done anything wrong, and breaking into a civilian's house seemed unnecessary. 

So Tim knocked and waited for an answer.

“Who’s there?” a familiar voice called through the door. Of course, Danny was new to Gotham, but even he must have learned not to open the door to strangers. 

“Red Robin. I need to speak to the Fentons.”

There was a long pause before Tim heard Danny unlocking the door. He yanked the door open a crack and glared at Tim. “Why?” 

“There’s a ghost in town, and I heard they were ghost hunters.” 

“You don’t want to talk to them about ghosts,” Danny said, stepping out onto the stoop and leaning against the door jamb. “Trust me, nothing good comes from getting them started.” 

Tim noticed Danny wasn’t wearing his hoodie. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Danny without it. Danny had more muscle definition than he was expecting, and in the light spilling from the house, Tim could see faint white scars on Danny’s left arm, partially hidden by the way his arms were folded across his chest. All in all, Danny struck an attractive figure.   

He was also standing between Tim and potential information. 

“And why is that?” Tim asked, standing up straighter. He and Danny were usually the same height, but the Red Robin boots gave Tim a couple of inches, and he was going to use them. 

“Because Dad will never shut up once he gets going. If you have things to do tonight, I advise against going to them for ghost stuff.” 

“Danny,” someone called from inside the house. “Who’s at the door sweety?” A red-headed woman wearing a teal jumpsuit came into view. 

“Dr. Fenton,” Tim said. 

“Oh, you’re one of those vigilantes! Cardinal, right?” 

“Mom, oh my god. It’s Red Robin.” Danny said, holding his face in his hand. 

“Oh, that’s right. What are you doing here? It’s almost eleven.” She said, checking her watch.

“I wanted to talk to you about ghosts if you have the time.” 

Dr. Fenton brightened considerably at that. “Of course, we have the time!”

Dr. Fenton was only too happy to lead him into the house. She insisted he have a seat in the living room while she made tea. Danny followed close behind, arms still crossed over his chest. 

As soon as they were alone he turned to Red Robin. “Is this about Phantom?” Danny whispered. He had his head tilted toward the kitchen as if he were listening to his parent’s movements.

At Tim’s nod, Danny continued. “He hasn’t hurt anyone, or done anything wrong.” 

“We don’t know him, what he’s capable of, or anything about him,” Tim said, noting how Danny’s fingers drummed a nervous tattoo on his upper arms. “If you know something about him, you should tell me.”

Danny huffed in amusement. “I can tell you two things. One: Phantom has never willingly hurt anyone, and two: they,” —at this Danny jerked his head back towards the kitchen— “can’t know Phantom is here. If they find out, it will be bad for him and me.” 

“You’re protecting him? Why?” 

Danny opened his mouth to respond, but before he could a loud voice reverberated through the house. “I get to blather on about ghosts?!” 

“I warned you not to get him started,” Danny said, glancing over his shoulder toward the voice. “He hasn’t been able to talk about ghosts for months.” Tim gave Danny a bewildered stare, which Danny responded to with a fanged grin. “You brought this on yourself," Danny said just as Maddie and Jack Fenton came into the living room. “You guys have fun,” Danny said. “I’ll be on the roof.”

Maddie set down a tray of tea, cookies, and fudge, which Tim declined. “So,” Maddie said, “What do you want to know about ghosts?”

***

Two hours later, Tim made his way to the roof. Danny was still there, a half-eaten pizza sitting on top of the air conditioner and a telescope set up, pointing at the sky. He didn't acknowledge Tim's presence at first, busy adjusting the telescope. 

"Can you even see anything in Gotham?" Tim asked. He never was one for astronomy, and there was so much pollution, both light, and smog, that it was hard to believe there were stars up there at all.

"I can get a pretty good look at Betelgeuse. Sometimes Sirius is out, and Polaris is always visible on clear nights,” said Danny. "But you're not up here for stargazing." 

"No, I'm not." 

"You didn't tell them about Phantom," Danny said it like it was a fact. 

"No, I didn't." How Danny knew that was beyond Tim. All the Robins spoke quietly so they aren’t accidentally overheard. He knew it was almost impossible for someone outside of the living room to have heard his end of the conversation. Danny could have guessed based on his dad’s overzealous replies. The way Danny had spoken before, mentioning Phantom would have gotten a major response from his parents. 

"Why not?" Danny’s quiet question broke him from his musings. 

"They said ghosts were non-sentient, just ectoplasmic imprints of post-human consciousness. That they are inherently evil and bent on the destruction of the human race." Tim was watching Danny carefully as he repeated the speech he'd heard no less than three times over the past couple of hours. 

‘I’m sure they did.” Danny said bitterly. He looked down at this telescope for a few quiet seconds before asking “Do you believe them?”

"The first time I met Phantom he saved me from a thug who would have put me in the hospital. The next time we met, he put himself in danger to comfort a young ghost. An evil being wouldn't have done that." Tim said. Danny kept his gaze on the telescope. “A non-sentient imprint of post-human consciousness wouldn't sit on a water tower eating a cheeseburger staring at the moon." 

Danny did smile at that, turning towards Tim so his too-sharp canines caught the light. So he hadn't imagined the fangs, interesting. "So, are you going to lay off Phantom now?" 

"It's not safe for metas in Gotham. They can be taken advantage of or used to hurt people."

"Phantom's not a meta, he can take care of himself. There are metas all over the city, hell, one of them works for Batman, same as you." Danny said, poking at the Red Robin insignia on his bandoliers. "You should be looking for the metas that could actually use your help." At that Danny glanced over Tim's shoulder before taking a deep breath and stepping back. 

"I'm not aware of any metas in Gotham." If there were metas, they'd have to find them and–

"You wouldn't be. They're too scared of getting kicked out of the city or arrested to ask for help." Danny crossed to the edge of the roof and looked out across the city. 

Something was nagging at Tim. Something about the hurt in Danny's voice, combined with the fangs. "Are you a meta?"

Danny laughed, caught off guard by the question. "I wish. It would make a lot of things easier." 

"Powers don't always make things easier," Tim answered automatically.

"No, they rarely do," Danny said. 

"Danny," Tim said, switching tracks. "You know Phantom, you're in touch with him." Danny gave him a guarded look, arms crossing his chest again. "I want to set up a meeting with him."

"Why?"

"Just to talk, maybe open a line of communication. We want to find out more about him and the other ghost, Cindy." Danny shifted his weight, glancing behind Tim again. It took everything in him not to look, to pretend not to notice.

"I don't know. I'll have to talk to him first." Danny said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Okay. When you talk to him, contact me on this." Tim handed over a communicator. "We can set up a meeting place."

Danny took the device and turned it over in his hands before popping it open. He typed something into the device and Tim's wrist computer beeped with an incoming message. 

>>Why are there emojis on this? 👻

"Really?" 

"I'll talk to him, see what he says," Danny said, slipping the communicator into his pocket. Danny went back to his telescope and started breaking it down. "I can't guarantee he'll want to talk." 

"Okay, just let me know what he says." 

Danny nodded but didn't turn from his task, and Tim took that as the end of the conversation and grappled to the next roof. 

He wondered about the metas Danny had mentioned as he made his way across the city. Were there kids out there who were scared of being arrested because they had powers? He'd have to look into that. And Danny. The son of ghost hunters was in contact with and protecting a ghost. There was something between Danny and Phantom, it shouldn't make a dark, jealous pit simmer in his chest but it did. Tim mentally shook himself and pushed those dark feelings down. He and Danny were friends, nothing more. He had no reason to feel jealous over a ghost.

Chapter Text

Danny was back in school on Friday. Tim's stomach did a stupid little flip when he saw the familiar red hoodie slumped over the last desk in the first row of his first class. Danny lifted his head when Tim came in, giving him a brief glimpse of the yellowing bruise on his cheek; the only remnant of the fight to remain; before setting it back down on the table with a groan. 

"Good morning to you, too," Tim said, suppressing a laugh. He set one of the paper coffee cups he was carrying on Danny's desk and took his seat. 

Danny grumbled something but took a sip of the coffee with a sigh. "I could get used to you bringing me coffee," Danny said with a grin. Tim noted a distinct lack of fangs in the smile. Weird, he was sure last night–

"Mr. Fenton." Mr. Kirk said as he entered the room. "Come get your make-up work." 

"Shoot. I forgot about that." Danny headed up to the teacher's desk and accepted a thick stack of papers before heading back to his seat. "This is going to take all weekend." Danny flipped through the stack before a look of dawning horror came over his face. "This is just one class."

"If you want," Tim said before he thought about what he was going to say, "you can come over to my place tomorrow and we can work on it together. I take excellent notes." 

“You don’t have to do that, I can manage,” Danny said, flipping through the packet. 

“It’s fine. We can have a movie day and watch Lord of the Rings while we work on it.” Tim couldn’t help the part of him that desperately hoped Danny said yes.

“Alright, if you’re sure you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all.” Tim smiled wide.

___

Things about Danny that Don’t Make Sense

      1. Sometimes he has fangs, other times his teeth are perfect straight

      2. Always wears a hoodie, even when it’s hot out.

          2a. Cover the scars?

     3.Scars

     4. Is built

     4. Son of ghost hunters; associates with ghosts.

          4a. Is dating a ghost?

      5. Carries a first-aid kit in his backpack.

          5a. Has been punched in the face multiple times?!

      6. Hangs out in cemeteries.

          6a. Knows the difference between cemeteries and graveyards.

      7. Bad liar.

          7a. Lies a lot.

Tim sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. There were a lot of things about Danny that weren’t adding up, but not much to be a major cause for concern. After all, Tim lies a lot, he's just much better at it than Danny is. He read down the list again. All of it added to Danny being more involved with ghosts than he lets on. Unbidden, Danny's words from the cemetery came into Tim's mind: "It's a great night for ghosts if you believe in that sort of thing." 

Phantom called himself a ghost. 

Tim scrambled across his living room to his bag and pulled out the envelope with his film negatives. It was difficult to see anything on the tiny square. Where did he put his film scanner? It had been a while since he needed it. 

He found the film scanner in his bedroom closet and wasted no time plugging it into his computer. It didn’t take him long to scan the film into his computer and pull the pictures up into his photo editing software. The first few pictures on the roll were pretty good, composition-wise. The full moon was peeking out from behind the Gotham skyline in the background and the foreground was a line of identical headstones. Early fall leaves had gathered around the stones and some had flowers that had long since withered laying on top. Altogether, the photos were good, not his best work, for sure, but passable for a school project. Tim scrolled through the photos searching each one for…something. 

When Tim got to the first picture on the film his breath caught in his throat. It was Danny, but what he had taken for red-eye in the negative was a vivid, unnatural green. A familiar green. Phantom’s eyes glowed with the same vibrancy. The rest of the photo looked normal except for a dust orb over Danny’s shoulder. Tim stared into the photo’s eyes. What could it mean that Danny’s eyes showed up green in the picture? His eyes were icy blue, like looking into the depths of a glacier. Was Phantom there in the cemetery, interfering with the camera? But why make Danny’s eyes green? What’s the point? Tim rubbed his hand down his face again and pulled out his phone to add another note to his list.

      8. Green eyes in photos.

          8a. Was Phantom involved?

Tim’s phone buzzed in his hand as he re-read the list, reminding him it was almost time to meet Danny at the coffee shop. They were going to look at model trains to use for their project before starting on Danny’s make-up work. He looked around at the disaster that was his living room. It had been clean before his impromptu photo scanning session. Good thing Tim had years of practice hiding things he didn’t want people seeing. It only took him a minute to put everything away, the slide scanner going back into the closet and the photo negatives went back into his backpack.

He made it to the coffee shop on time and spotted Danny waiting outside. 

“Sorry, I’m late.” He said, breathing a little heavily. 

“You aren’t, I’m early.” Danny smiled and Tim found his eyes drawn to his mouth. Still no sign of any fangs or sharper-than-normal teeth. He wasn’t willing to admit he may have imagined it. Tim led the way into the coffee shop and Danny started describing different model trains he had seen and how easy or difficult each one would be to turn into a mag-lev train. It turns out Danny had spent most of his suspension doing research into model trains, so the conversation lasted through the line at the coffee shop and well into the walk to the hobby store. Tim’s heart beat a little faster whenever Danny turned that excited smile onto him. He decided to blame the coffee. 

At the hobby shop, Danny was drawn immediately to the model rockets. 

“Most of mine from back home are packed up in storage,” he explained, a Curiosity rover in his hands. “I don’t have room for them here.” Danny put the Curiosity model back and ran his fingers over the box.

“Do you have a lot of models?” 

“I’ve been building them since I was four, so I have a fair few.” Danny moved over to the model trains as he spoke. “I want- wanted to be an astronaut.” 

“Wanted? What changed?” Tim asked.

“I did.” Danny offered with no other explanation and grabbed a model train off the shelf and held it out to Tim. “I think we should get this one.” 

Tim took the box and studied it for a second. “This is a freight train. Wouldn’t one of these commuter trains be more accurate?” He picked up a three-car commuter train that was based on a Japanese bullet train. 

“Well, yeah, but those are all over two hundred dollars. This one will prove the concept and it's just over a hundred.”

“Okay, but I’m buying it. You don’t have to get the cheaper one.” Danny knew he was rich, right? 

Danny waved the comment off. “I’m not going to ask you to get the more expensive one just because you have money.” 

“But why not? I won’t even notice spending a few hundred. Hell, it’s not even my money; it’s Bruce’s, and he makes money faster than anyone can feasibly spend it.” 

“Tim,” Danny said before sighing. “I don’t want you to think I only hang around you so you’ll buy me things.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck and turned away from Tim, but not before he saw the blush creeping along Danny’s cheeks. “Besides, it’s just a dumb school project, there’s no sense dropping hundreds of dollars on a model train.” 

Tim sighed. He'd have to try a different approach. "It's not just a dumb school project, it's worth a quarter of our grade, and part of that is showing the concept like we are presenting to a board of directors. We should get the model that will best represent our proposal." He held out the commuter set for Danny to check. 

"Fine." Danny conceded after mulling over Tim’s words for a minute. "We'll need magnets, too. And paint. If you insist on full-assing this project, we'll full-ass it." 

___

Back at the penthouse Tim and Danny spread out the pizzas, snacks, and drinks they had bought on the kitchen bar. 

“Okay, I’ve already finished my history and English make-up work, so all that is left is physics and calculus,” Danny said, pulling two slices of pineapple and sausage pizza onto a plate. 

“You didn’t miss much in physics, honestly,” Tim said, carrying his plate and drink to the living room. “So it shouldn’t take too long to finish that.” 

Tim set his plate down and picked up the remote. “I’m going to go ahead and start the movie, alright?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Danny pulled his homework out of his backpack and took a seat on the floor. 

Tim sat back in his usual seat on the couch, only noticing afterward that it was right next to where Danny was sitting on the floor. If he moved his leg over a bit he would be pressed against Danny’s side. Instead, Tim pulled his legs up onto the couch and sat sideways, leaning against the armrest, and started the Lord of the Rings. 

For a while, the only sound was that of Danny’s pencil scratching on the paper and the movie. Until. “I can remain unseen if I wish.” Danny quoted alongside Aragorn quietly. “but to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift.” Danny froze and turned slowly to face Tim. “Sorry. I just love that part.” 

Tim smiled. Danny quoted movies? That was adorable. “Don’t apologize.” Danny smiled at him and turned back to his homework, but Tim found his attention being drawn to Danny. How he would quote the movie, almost line for line in between scribbling physics notes. Usually, it annoys him when people talk during the movie, but Tim found himself enjoying it more, watching with Danny. 

Halfway through the second movie, the pizza was gone, and Danny had long since finished his homework but was still sitting on the floor and leaning against the couch. Leaning against Tim’s leg.  It was more than a little distracting. 

Tim was just starting to relax into the weight of Danny’s head against his thigh when Danny’s phone rang. Danny checked the caller ID and groaned. Tim couldn’t see what it said from where he was sitting. 

“I’m sorry, I have to answer this,” Danny said, holding the phone to his ear and standing. 

“Should I pause this?” Tim asked. 

Danny waved his hand in a gesture that could have meant “Yes, pause it,” or “No, that isn’t necessary.” but what he actually said was “Hey, what’s wrong?” and walked into the bathroom that was just off the main living room. 

Tim paused the movie, anyway. From the couch, he could hear Danny’s voice from the bathroom, but couldn’t make out the words. Tim picked up the empty plates and went to drop them off in the kitchen, which happened to take him closer to the bathroom. So he couldn’t be blamed for overhearing Danny’s half of the conversation.

“I’m at Tim’s like I said I would be. — No, I will not send you a picture. — I’m not turning on my phone location. — Because you don’t pay for it, I do. — You never used to care where I went. — I’ll be back later. — I don’t know, before dark?” 

Okay, maybe he spent more time outside the bathroom door than was strictly necessary. Tim quietly snuck away to the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher. He felt bad about listening in on Danny’s conversation. It was an invasion of privacy. It wasn't really his business. But, Tim couldn’t shake the worry that settled in the pit of his stomach. The conversation was full of red flags.

“Hey, Sorry about that,” Danny said, coming into the kitchen. 

Tim hummed and waved Danny’s apology off. “Everything alright?” 

“Yeah. Do you need help cleaning up?” Danny didn’t wait for an answer before taking off his jacket and tossing the empty pizza boxes and snack bags into the trash can. Tim tried and failed not to notice the way Danny’s shoulders had lines of tension that weren’t there before his phone call. 

___

After they finished cleaning the kitchen Danny moved to the other side of the couch, mirroring Tim’s position. The couch was big enough that they could both stretch out and be almost close enough to touch, but not quite. He wasn’t sure who nodded off first, but at some point during the third movie, Tim woke with a jolt, eyes immediately seeking Danny. 

Danny, who was snoring gently in his sleep. Danny, who never put his jacket back on. Danny, who had half-healed fingerprint-shaped bruises on his arm. 

Tim could more clearly see the scars that he had glimpsed the other night. They looked like burns but were shaped like blast marks from a cartoon laser gun. Why would Danny’s arms be covered in burns? Why did they all look months old? Tim shifted to get a better look, but Danny woke up blinking. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to nod off,” he said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What time is it?” 

“Uh. Almost seven.” Tim said, checking the large clock above the tv. 

Danny jolted and looked out the large balcony window where there was a beautiful landscape of the sunset over the skyline. 

“Shit, I have to go.” Danny jumped up and grabbed his backpack. “I’m sorry for running out like this, but I'm going to be late.” 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Tim said, but Danny was halfway to the elevator already. The door slid closed on Danny’s panicked face, and Tim was left feeling a little lost. He looked around the room and sighed. Danny’s quick exit had left him feeling a little cold. He should make some coffee and brush up on his cases before patrol. When he stepped into the kitchen he froze. Danny’s red jacket was still hung on the back of the chair where Danny had left it. He would have to give it back to Danny on Monday, after he washed it, of course. 

___

Danny waited until the elevator doors closed before transforming into Phantom and flying out of the building and heading toward home. 

Not home. 

The brownstone. 

He can’t believe he fell asleep on Tim’s couch. It was just so quiet. Tim’s apartment had thick walls and he couldn’t hear the city. He couldn't even hear the electricity in the walls. Once he got comfortable on the couch with a familiar movie playing and the steady beat of Tim’s heart he just– “Ugh! How pathetic are you, Fenton?” Danny groaned at himself. He landed a few blocks away from the house and practically ran. He hoped his parents were too busy in the lab to notice that he was a few minutes late. He unlocked and opened the door as quietly as he could and made his way toward the stairs. 

“You’re late, young man,” Maddie said. Danny froze and turned slowly toward the living room. 

“Sorry, mom. We got caught up in the movie and I didn’t notice what time it was.” His eyes flicked to Jack. His dad rarely talks to him anymore, and tonight was seeming to be no exception. He was too absorbed in his needlepoint to look up at him. 

“That’s no excuse. We still have to take your weekly sample.” 

“But, why? My contamination levels have been the same for weeks, no change up or down.” 

“That’s the problem. You aren’t losing contamination as you should be. Your father and I have both been clear for a month. We need to continue to monitor you and try to figure out why you're not decontaminating as you should.” 

“But-” 

“Danny,” Jack said, putting down his project and standing up to his full height. “Don’t argue with your mother. Go to the lab and get the equipment ready.” 

Danny nodded and headed down to the lab. Jack hadn’t laid a hand on him yet, but the threat was there. Clear in the way his fist clenched and unclenched whenever he spoke to Danny. Clear in the rough way he handled him when he had to hold his arm steady to draw blood. Clear in the way he never spoke to him, except when needed. 

Danny knew Jack’s patience with him was holding on by a thread. Knew Jack didn’t think of him as his son anymore. Because the levels of ectoplasm in his blood were too high. Because they weren’t dropping as they should be. Jack already thought of him as a ghost and was already treating him like a ghost. If he ever had thought Jack and Maddie could accept Phantom, that belief was well and truly squashed. Danny got the equipment ready for his parents to check his blood for ectoplasmic contamination and tried to remember the steady beat of Tim's heart.

Chapter Text

D.F. 👻:

   Still want to know about ghosts?

Danny sent the message halfway through patrol while Tim was in the middle of breaking up an attempted burglary. He sent back a quick message while blocking a punch with his staff.

Red Robin:

    Yes 

A quick sweep of his staff landed the last of the thugs on his back. 

Red Robin:

   Did you talk to Phantom? 

While waiting for a reply he zip-tied the thugs together for the GCPD to find and made his way to the nearest rooftop 

D.F. 👻:

   He agreed to meet you at Old Gotham Cemetery tomorrow at midnight.

Tim frowned at the time and place. Talk about cliche.   

Red Robin:

   I can be there.

___

Tim landed on the roof of a building across from Gotham Cemetery at 11:30 pm Sunday. His comm crackled in his ear. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any backup?” Nightwing asked.

“I’m sure. Phantom is flighty. If a pack of vigilantes shows up it will scare him off. There’s no telling when or if he’d agree to meet again.” Tim said. Gotham Cemetery stood empty, the large iron gates were chained shut. It didn’t look like Phantom was there yet. Good. 

“If Drake allows the ghost to get away again, someone else should be in charge of this case,” Damian said. Tim could almost see the sneer on the demon brat’s face.

“Codenames,” Batman said over the comms. “Red Robin is the only one who has been able to get close to Phantom. We need information on ghosts to be prepared if anything happens, but Phantom is not our enemy.” There was a pause as Batman allowed those words to seep in. “That being said, I can be there in three minutes.” 

“It will be fine.” Tim stood to get a better view of the cemetery. 

“Isn’t it a bit on-the-nose for a ghost to hang out in a graveyard?” Nightwing asked. 

“It’s a cemetery, actually,” Tim said, switching from the regular vision in his mask to infrared. If Phantom had ice powers, maybe he could see him as a cold spot.

“What’s the difference?”

“Graveyards are attached to churches,” Tim responded, “Cemeteries aren't.” There wasn’t anything on thermal vision.

“Did Phantom tell you that?” Damian asked, his derisive tone clear even over the comm. 

“No, actually. Da- uh… someone else did.” 

“It was your physics partner, wasn't it?” Damian asked.

“Your boyfriend knows the difference between graveyards and cemeteries?" Dick asked. "That’s kinda creepy.”  

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Tim shot back. 

“Not yet,” Dick sing-songed.

“Chatter on comms,” Batman warned. 

“Oh, come on, B. You have to admit, he’s the son of ghost hunters, is in regular contact with ghosts, and hangs out in cemeteries. That’s creepy. All he needs is fangs and he could be a full-on vampire.”

Tim felt his face flush as he was reminded of the sharper-than-human teeth he knew Danny sometimes had. “He’s not a vampire.” 

“You wouldn’t be talking about me, would you?” 

Tim spun around and found himself face to face with Phantom. Tim wondered if he had had a bad night since the ghost was looking rough. His white hair, which usually floated around as if blown in an invisible breeze hung limp, and there were dark blue bags under his eyes that showed in sharp contrast to his paler-blue-than-normal skin. Even his pointed ears seemed to droop. He had a lumpy black duffle bag thrown over one shoulder and it sat heavily against his hip, or where his hip would be if his body didn’t end in a wispy tail. 

“No, of course not,” Tim answered quickly. Phantom hummed, looking unconvinced, and shifted the duffle higher onto his shoulder. “What's in the bag?” 

Phantom set it down and pulled out a thin silvery rod, about a foot long and covered in green markings and copper wires. Tim took it from the ghost. “What is it?” Tim turned the rod around in his hands. If he had to guess, it was a lightning rod of some kind. 

“Let's head into the cemetery and I’ll tell you about it.” Phantom took the rod back and stuck it into the bag. He floated over to the edge of the building. “After you.”

Tim eyed Phantom; the ghost looked like a strong wind would blow him away, but he gestured for Tim to go first, so he shot off his grapple and landed inside the gates to the cemetery. Phantom joined him just a second later. 

“So, what are those rods?” 

“It’s why I wanted you here.” Phantom was digging in his duffle bag again. “I’ve been waiting for a natural portal to open between here and the Infinite Realms so I could send Cindy home, but it’s been weeks and there hasn’t been one, which is odd.” Phantom finally found what he was looking for, a device with a small radar dish on the front. He powered it up and a green grid popped up on the screen. “See?” Phantom turned the device so he could see it better. 

Tim squinted at the device. There was a line that was rotating and a steady slow beep, but nothing on the screen stood out to him. “I don’t see anything.” 

“Exactly! There is supposed to be ectoplasm everywhere," Phantom said, pulling the device back to himself. "It gathers in certain places: ley lines, graveyards, cemeteries, battlegrounds, war zones." 

"Places where there is a lot of death," Tim supplied, trying to figure out the line of thought Phantom was on. 

"Yeah. Gotham should be an ectoplasm hot spot, what with all the…" Phantom waved his hand in the air in a vague gesture before he shrugged. "Everything about this place." He stopped his explanation long enough to tap some buttons on the device. "But it isn't." 

Phantom continued to fidget with the machine but didn't continue his explanation. The cemetery grew silent around them, the only sound was the breeze in the yellowing leaves. Tim shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Any ideas why that is?" Tim raised his eyebrow in question. 

"Theories, not anything concrete." Phantom studied the device in his hands and ran a thumb along the surface. "Most likely, there is a– well, it doesn't translate well from ghost speak, but a kind of natural ectoplasm filter here." 

"A filter," Tim deadpanned.

"As I said, it doesn't translate well.” Phantom floated away from Tim a little until he was settled cross-legged on the top of an old headstone. “They form naturally when there is a high concentration of ectoplasm in one spot in the mortal realm. It's part of the natural ectoplasm cycle." 

“Ectoplasm Cycle?” Nightwing asked over the comm. Tim ignored him.

"If they form in places high in ectoplasm, why are the levels in Gotham so low?" 

"Because they soak up all the ectoplasm like a sponge and filter it back into the infinite realms.” 

Chatter exploded over the comms about the Lazarus pit somewhere in the caves under Gotham, but surely not. The pits were mysterious, but they didn't have anything to do with ghosts, surely. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “What does this filter look like?” the comms went silent.

“I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen one, just read about them.” Phantom put the device back into the bag and pulled out a rod. “In any case, to send Cindy home, I need to force a portal to form. That’s where this comes in.” Phantom held out the rod. He looked pleased with himself, so much so that Tim hated to ask. 

“Right." Tim crossed his arms over his chest and nodded toward the rod. "You still haven’t told me what that is.”  

“It’s an ecto-rod.” Phantom turned the rod around in his hands. “It gathers ambient ectoplasm and channels it to a single spot. Once the ectoplasm levels in the area get high enough, a portal forms. Then I can send Cindy home.” Phantom tapped the end of the rod twice on his shoulder. “So, that’s my deal. You let me put these where I need them to go, and I’ll answer any questions about ghosts you may have while I’m doing it.” Phantom held the rod in his lap and watched Tim, waiting.

“Is it safe? We aren’t going to have zombies running around Gotham cemetery, are we?” Tim asked. The last thing they needed was more zombies, Solomon Grundy was enough.

“Oh, yeah, no, yeah,” Phantom waved his hand in the air, “it’s perfectly safe. Ectoplasm doesn’t create zombies, only ghosts and the occasional overly aggressive food item.” 

"Aggressive food items?" Dick asked.

“What do you mean, aggressive food item?” 

“Hmm. That falls under ‘questions about ghosts’" Phantom gave him a fanged smirk.

“If there isn’t any ectoplasm in Gotham, how are the rods going to gather it to form a portal?” Damian asked and Tim hated that he made a good point, but he repeated the question anyway.

“Oh, in a few weeks, it will be Samhain. The barrier is thinner then, so more ectoplasm than usual is going to leak across. The filter won’t be able to keep up with it and there will hopefully be enough to make a portal big enough for Cindy to slip through.” 

“And if there isn’t enough?”

Phantom grew still and his voice was nearly a whisper when he responded. “I can supplement if there isn’t enough.” 

“What does that mean?” Tim and Dick asked at the same time.

“That falls under ‘questions about ghosts'," Phantom repeated. There was no grin this time.

“Let him set them up. We can increase patrols in the area until we know there isn’t a threat,” Batman growled over the comms. 

“Hood isn’t going to be happy about that. This area is right on the edge of his territory,” Dick responded. 

They kept talking, their chatter an annoying buzz in his ear. Tim reached up and turned off his comm so he could focus on Phantom. The ghost had his head cocked to the side, watching him curiously. With his glowing green eyes and black-and-white coloring Tim was reminded of a tuxedo cat. 

“Okay, you can set up the ecto rods.” Tim hoped they weren't going to regret trusting Phantom.

Phantom smiled brightly and floated down from the headstone. “Great! This way.” 

Tim walked beside Phantom deeper into the silent cemetery. The older ornate headstones gave way to smaller stones and placards. The light from the crescent moon shone down in mottled spots, ever-shifting due to the cloud cover. It was still early enough in the season for the leaves to start changing colors but not late enough for them to fall. A cool breeze ruffled his hair bringing with it the scent of fresh-cut grass and gasoline, along with the ever-present stench of the city. He was quiet for a bit, mulling over his thoughts. To his surprise, Phantom broke the silence first.

“So, before you get started interrogating me about ghosts, I have a few ground rules.” Phantom rubbed his shoulder and looked up toward the moon. “Don’t ask about a ghost's death. It’s…rude.” Phantom paused. For a long moment, he was silent, but Tim could tell he wanted to say something else, so he kept quiet until Phantom continued. “You have to understand, ghosts don’t form from nice deaths.” The hand that had been gripping his shoulder that had been on his shoulder came down to squeeze at his hand, his thumb digging into the meat of his left palm. 

“Is that-” Tim caught himself asking about Phantom's hand, but the subject of conversation was painting a picture of his days, a death that Tim didn't like the look of. He switched gears instead. “Okay. Anything else?” 

“Some things aren’t my secrets to tell. Don’t push for answers if I tell you ‘no’.” 

“Okay,” Tim said. “Can I ask you to elaborate on what you meant about supplementing ectoplasm?” 

“Ghosts are mostly ectoplasm, in the same way, humans are mostly water. If there isn’t enough ectoplasm to trigger a portal, I can use some of my own.” Phantom held up his hand with the palm facing up. 

"Isn't that like using your blood?" Tim felt sick at the thought.

Phantom shrugged. "Sort of."

“There has to be another way.” The last thing he wanted was for Phantom to have to use his own blood, or life force.

Phantom sighed, a thin mist forming from his breath. “Not without sneaking into a highly secured vault with advanced anti-ghost defenses, twenty-four/seven armed guard, and a one-way trip to a holding cell If I'm caught.” 

“Maybe I could–”

“No.” Phantom stopped in front of Tim and pinned him with a sharp look. It was the most serious he had ever seen the ghost look. “I don’t want you any more involved than you already are. It’s hard enough keeping Cindy out of danger, I don’t need you poking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. Okay?” 

"Okay," Tim said. Phantom nodded and started down a smaller path. He was starting to get an idea of where they were going.

“Speaking of Cindy," Tim spoke up after a few minutes of silence. "Where is she?”

“She’s with me.” Phantom looked over at him and his eyes trailed down toward his left leg. “Or, she’s with you right now.” Tim looked down but he didn’t see anything. He tried switching to infrared, and even ultraviolet views.

“I don’t see anything.” 

“Yeah, most people can’t see ghosts when they want to stay hidden.” Phantom stopped to dig into his bag and pulled out a large copper ring wrapped in a thin green wire. The ring could easily fit on Tim’s finger. “Try looking through this.”

Tim took it and held it up to the sky, squinting one eye to peer through the hole. “What is it?” 

“It’s like a hag stone but it actually works.” Phantom crossed his arms and waited. Tim sighed and pressed the metal to his eye and immediately pulled it away. 

“What the hell?” Tim blinked at the stone in confusion while Phantom smirked at him. He put the ring back to his eye and tried to make sense of what he was seeing. Phantom was still Phantom, same blue skin and white hair, but there was a mist surrounding him, green like his eyes. It seemed to pulse, growing brighter and dimmer in a steady beat. Most of the mist swirled around his torso, but some of it was floating toward Tim. He followed it and found himself looking into the face of a child who was clinging to his leg like a toddler. She smiled and Tim noticed a few missing teeth. Where Phantom was in full color, Cindy’s color was muted grays and pinks. 

“She used up a lot of her ectoplasm in the fire. She’s been subsisting on mine since then, but it’s not a permanent solution.” 

“Why is she on me?” 

Phantom smiled down at the girl and when he spoke his voice was fond. “She likes you, says you feel familiar.” 

Phantom made a strange chirping sound and Cindy reluctantly let go of Tim’s leg and settled on the ghost’s shoulders. Her small size reminded Tim of how young Cindy must have been when she died. He didn’t have to ask how she had died, he could guess. Her mother had died in a house fire, and Cindy’s ghost was haunting the burnt-out remnants of an apartment building. Tim clenched the ring in his fist and closed his eyes. 

A child had died scared and in pain and his first instinct when meeting her was to think of her as a monster. 

“Can she hear me?” Tim asked. At Phantom’s nod, he put the ring back up to his eye. Cindy was still on Phantom’s shoulders watching him with interest. She was much less defined than Phantom, sort of fuzzy around the edges, though no less there. “I want to apologize for the way I acted when we first met. I will help Phantom get you back to your mom if I can,” he said, speaking directly to her. 

Cindy’s face broke into a large grin and she flew off of Phantom’s shoulders and crashed into him. Tim could actually feel her. He was surprised by how warm she was for a ghost, how tightly something non-corporeal could squeeze. 

“Aw, that’s nice. Well, we’re here.” Phantom turned to the small grave marker. Someone had put fresh white lilies on the grave and it had been recently cleaned of leaves. Tim knew without looking that the grave marker would say ‘Michelle Howe’. Cindy’s mother. 

Tim felt Cindy shift her hold on him until she was settled against his back. “What’s the plan?” 

Phantom set the duffle bag on the ground and pulled out one of the rods. “I’m going to put these around the grave.” 

Phantom floated to the headstone and sunk the rod far too easily into the ground beside it.

"How did you do that?" Red Robin asked. "Density shifting?"

"No,” Phantom pulled another rod out of the bag before answering. “Phase shifting." He pushed the second pole into the ground on the other side of the headstone.

"What's the difference?"

Phantom gave him a look like he should know the answer before shaking his head. "Density shifting is changing the distance between atoms so the atoms in object A pass between the atoms of object B. Phase shifting is moving object A out of phase with the current reality." 

"That sounds complicated."

Phantom snorted a laugh. "Ghosts exist on a different plane of reality. The complicated part is staying on this plane." He sunk another pole into the ground several feet away from the first two and in line with the second one. "I can't tell you how many times I fell through the floor before I got the hang of it."

“According to the Fentons, ghosts can control their powers instinctively, but you can't?” Tim asked. Phantom shifted uncomfortably and Cindy seemed to hold onto Tim’s shoulders tighter. 

“Most ghosts can, but not all.” Phantom fiddled with the fourth rod. “I can send you some actual research on the different types of ghosts.” 

He turned away from Tim and pressed the rod into the ground, completing a large rectangle around the gravesite. There was no evidence of the area being tampered with at all. Phantom pulled the last rod out of the bag. 

"How do you know so much about density shifting?" Tim asked.

"Popular Mechanics did an article on some of the Justice League's powers a few years back. I always liked Martian Manhunter the best, before… well, before." Phantom gestured to his wispy tail and pointed ears. Red Robin could finish the thought himself. Before Phantom died. 

Which opened up a whole new avenue of questions. According to the Fenton's research ghosts couldn't remember their lives before they died. But Phantom remembered that he liked Martian Manhunter, and Cindy certainly remembers who she was. If they were wrong about that, what else could they have been wrong about?

"What about Martian Manhunter did you like?"

Phantom's eyes lit up, "He's from Mars. He's an actual real-life Martian. We only just developed sustainable space travel, and Martians had that technology before humans even existed. We could have learned so much about space, technology, and the history of the universe from them!" 

Red Robin could swear he saw literal stars in Phantom's eyes as he continued to talk about Martians and space travel and the universe at large, and was it his imagination, or was his glow getting brighter? Phantom had started to talk about the formation of the Crab Head Nebula when he suddenly stopped and gave Red Robin a sheepish look. "Sorry, I got carried away. You don't care about any of that." 

"You don't have to stop on my account. You seem to really love space." 

"Yeah." Phantom fiddled with the last pole in his hands. "I wanted to be an astronaut. Before. I used to read scientific journals about space for fun." 

Tim remembered the first time he had seen Phantom, eating a burger and staring up at what little of the stars he could see. "You spent your life studying aeronautics." Red Robin couldn't help the grief welling up like a spring in his chest. For maybe the first time he realized Phantom had been alive once. A human with passions and dreams and hobbies. He had a goal and was never able to achieve it because he had died. 

Phantom's hand clenched around the pole, his white gloves made no sound, even though they were made of some sort of rubber. Neoprene, or a chemical-resistant PVC. In fact, his whole suit was a kind of rubberized hazmat uniform similar to the ones the Doctors Fenton had been wearing.

A thought, half-formed, flitted through his brain, and the spring of grief in his chest turned to ice. "When did you meet Danny?" 

Phantom turned to face him. The guard that had dropped while he spoke of space was back up, reinforced with wariness. "A long time ago." 

"Did you know him before?" 

Instead of answering, Phantom narrowed his eyes and sunk the final pole into the center of the grave. "I'm all done here. I shouldn't need your help again." 

"Wait!" Tim yelled, reaching out to the ghost. If Phantom disappeared now he may never have the opportunity to speak to him again. But it was too late. Phantom was already gone. 

Chapter Text

Danny set a quick pace away from the cemetery without a backward glance and didn't stop until he had crossed half the city. He landed in an abandoned office building somewhere near Robinson Park with a thump and a groan, his transformation falling away as soon as he came to rest on the dirty floor. He tried to ignore the sounds of the city all around him, the gunshots and sirens and arguing and screaming, but his head was pounding, and each new sound pounded against his eardrums like waves against a rocky shore. The lack of ectoplasm in Gotham put Danny under constant strain, his body unable to keep up with the demand of using his powers and supplying Cindy with ectoplasm. He may not be able to transform again until she was safely in the Zone. Speaking of which…

He sat up quickly, regretting it immediately when the world spun and his head throbbed. He hadn't even checked if Cindy had followed him from the cemetery, but there she was, floating by the window looking out into the city. Danny breathed a sigh and let himself fall back to the ground and close his eyes. Idly, he felt his left arm pulse in time to his slow heartbeat. He held it up and inspected the purple and blue bruise that radiated out from the crook of his elbow and covered half his arm, broken up by the white lines of his Lichtenberg scars that were normally hidden in this form. Blood didn't pool in them like it did the rest of his skin. 

They had taken so much blood from him, and they weren't gentle about it, digging the needle in when it missed his vein. Worse, the lack of ecto in his system had slowed his healing down to near-human. There was no way to hide the bruise since he had left his only jacket at Tim's.

Fuck

Tim.

He'd run out and hadn't even texted him. He'd have to apologize at school in the morning. Danny lifted his head and let it fall back against the threadbare carpet with a dull thud. He had to get up soon, head back to the brownstone, grab a shower, and hopefully a little sleep before school. But he knew his bed was never going to be as comfortable as Tim's couch. His room would never feel as safe as Tim's living room, with a familiar movie playing in the background and Tim sitting close enough for Danny to reach out and touch– if he were braver, bolder. If he had any indication that Tim liked him back or would welcome his affection. 

He could still hear Tim's heartbeat in his ears. It was strong and steady, like a drum thrumming a soothing rhythm, grounding him in a way no other sound did. Danny let himself drift a little, Tim's heartbeat in his ears and little moments flitting in his mind. Tim's smile, the little sigh when he takes the first sip of coffee, the way his hair falls in his face when he's embarrassed. How he looked with the moonlight glinting off his domino mask. 

What?

Danny sat up with a curse. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," Danny berated himself, digging his knuckles into his hair and scrubbing viciously. He should have known! He should have put it together earlier, but no. He was too stupid. Too slow. Too absorbed in his own stuff that he didn't even see it. He should have. 

Because Cindy was right. There was something familiar about Red Robin. Some nagging sense that this was a person he could trust. He had felt safe with Red Robin. Safe enough to blather on about his obsession. Something… something he'd only done with one other person.

"Phantom?" Cindy's quiet voice cut through his train of thought. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Danny let out a breath. "I think I know why Red Robin feels familiar."

***

Tim cursed himself as he made his way back to the Nest. His shoulders were cold where Cindy had left him shortly after Phantom had flown off. He had tried to find the ghosts with the hag stone ring Phantom had given him, but he couldn’t find even a wisp of them. The other bats had come to inspect the gravesite after Phantom left, but there didn’t seem to be anything different about it. If Tim hadn’t seen Phantom putting the rods into the ground no one would know they were there. 

Tim was sure Phantom and Danny had known each other before Phantom died, and Tim… Tim needed to know how. He had to be someone with access to the Fenton’s hazmat suits, who would know a lot about their research. 

Someone who Danny would feel inclined to protect. A brother? 

Except Danny had told him he only had a sister. He had never mentioned a brother at all. Tim was so distracted by his thoughts he didn’t notice the little annoyance before he spoke.

“So, you let him get away again.” Tim just barely managed to stifle a groan. Damian smirked at him from Tim’s computer chair. He had not changed out of his Robin uniform, and judging from the heat coming off of his bike he must have booked it to make it back here before Tim. “I guess that means someone else should be in charge of the ghost threat.” 

“I haven’t been trying to catch him; he isn’t a threat,” Tim said. “And I’d like to see you keep a ghost anywhere they don’t want to be. You know they can fly and phase through solid matter, right?” Damian answered only by sucking his teeth. Tim rolled his eyes. “Anyway, tonight was about getting info on ghosts.” 

“Which you also failed to do.” He said it without pause, flat and direct as ever.

“Not quite,” Tim said, ignoring the jab. “We know there are few ghosts in Gotham, we know why that might be. We know the leading research on ghosts isn’t accurate. We know ghosts have rules and customs that they abide by, which suggests they have a societal system and aren’t non-sentient creatures who exist by instinct alone. We know ghosts can have interests outside of causing havoc, and can actively work to help other ghosts in need, even if that means sacrificing their own lifeblood to do it.” Tim waited for Damian to respond, and when he didn’t he continued. “Now, did you need something, or did you only want to annoy me?” 

Damian met his gaze, the computer chair creaking as he leaned back, fingers laced together like a villain on their throne. “You have failed to find any way to combat them, should they become a problem,” he assessed. 

Tim narrowed his eyes at his brother. He was right, of course, but he didn’t have to like it. “I’m looking into it,” Tim said through gritted teeth. 

“I’m sure,” Damian sneered, lifting out of the chair. He still stood a head shorter than Tim, but that gap was closing fast. “I hope nothing happens while you dawdle.” With that, Damian hopped on his bike, the motor revving as he left the Nest without a backward glance. 

Tim took a deep breath and pushed his irritation down. It would do him no good. Damian always knew how to get under his skin and no amount of glaring after his bike tires would change that. Right now, Tim had better things to occupy his mind and time. He had to know more about how Danny and Phantom were related. 

***

Tim woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. He cracked open one eye, finding a steaming mug in front of him. He downed half of it before even realizing he wasn't alone in the room. Bruce was leaning against the desk reading a newspaper article Tim had printed out, he wasn’t sure which one it was, but it must not have been relevant to the case since it wasn’t pinned to the walls. He waited for Tim to put the mug down before speaking. 

"I received a call from your school today. Apparently, you were absent," Bruce said, his tone even, giving Tim no hint as to what he was feeling.

"Shit." Tim groaned. "I'm sorry, Bruce, I got caught up in research." he clicked his computer mouse to reactivate his monitor. It opened to a page about ghosts on FetonWork's public website. He had been trying to install a backdoor to their database when he crashed. 

"I can see that." Bruce nodded toward the walls Tim had filled with papers and red string. "I told the school you had the flu. Now, run me through what you've been working on."

Tim groaned again, rubbing at his eyes before taking another sip of his coffee. “I don’t know where to start.” 

“Okay, why don’t you start with how Vlad Masters is involved in this?” Bruce said, nodding to a picture of the billionaire pinned to the wall with a red string attaching him to the Fenton parents. 

Tim squinted at the picture of the man, hoping the bags beneath his eyes weren’t as bad as they felt. “I was trying to see if the Fenton’s ever had a lab assistant who was in an accident, but all I could find was a report from the University of Wisconsin that their lab partner, Vlad Masters, had been in an accident and transferred to a university hospital with a condition they named ‘ecto-acne’, tachycardia, and a higher than normal body temperature.”

“Vlad Masters?” Tim knew Bruce had been keeping an eye on the billionaire turned small-time politician. His rise to wealth was suspicious, as was his sudden decision to become the mayor of a mid-sized city in Illinois. Tim had even looked into him himself, but he hadn't found any wrongdoing they could prove.“I didn’t know he had any health conditions.”

“All this happened before he made his millions. The ecto-acne cleared up, and the tachycardia and temperature weren’t causing problems so he was released.” 

Bruce made a thoughtful humming sound, leaning in closer to the board to look at an article pinned beneath the photo of Masters. “Why were you looking for lab assistants in accidents?” he asked.

“I thought Phantom might have worked for the Fentons before he died.” Tim stifled a yawn.

“What made you think that?” Bruce was slipping into what Tim liked to call ‘training wheels mode’. It was a tone his mentor had used often when he was learning detective work as Robin. Letting Tim work through the problem while he asked guiding questions without letting any of his own thoughts or emotions show. Usually, the kid gloves would chafe, but this time Tim was glad for the space to work through his thoughts. 

“Ghosts stay in the clothes they died in, I think, or at least some semblance of them. Cindy wears pink pajamas and I know she died in a house fire, and Phantom’s suit…" Tim got up and started searching through his web of information, tracing a finger across the intricate lines of string. "I didn’t realize it until I saw it up close last night, but it’s the same material as the Fenton’s hazmat suits.” He tapped a form pinned to the wall. “They order in bulk, orange, and teal, but they used to order white ones, too.” 

“But Phantom’s suit is black.” 

Without a word, Tim went back to his desk and clicked a browser window on his computer. It was a website selling discount PPE, on the listing was a white suit with a black neck guard, gloves, and boots. Bruce leaned in, squinting at the monitor. “It’s the same suit, but the colors are reversed. Do they–” 

“They don’t sell black ones. As far as I can tell, no one sells a suit like that in black,” Tim said, cradling his cup of coffee to his chest. The warmth radiated against his skin, a far cry from the cold that persistently radiated off of Phantom.

Bruce studied the image for a little longer. “So, Phantom knew the Fentons, and you think his death is attributed to an accident.” Part of Tim felt crass speaking so bluntly about someone’s death, especially someone so young, but another part of him, the part that had been Robin and Red Robin, the part that was desensitized to the horrors of the world knew that sometimes the only way to help was to compartmentalize. So, he pushed those feelings down and locked them in a box so he could get the job done. 

“Yeah.” Tim took a sip of his coffee. “He said he had known Danny for a long time, so I was thinking he could have been either his twin, brother, cousin, or lab assistant, but none of those routes panned out. Danny was a single birth, he only has one sister and no cousins, and his parents have never hired anyone to work for them. So, I still don’t know who Phantom is. Was. Whatever.” Tim sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. If this were a case he had no doubt Bruce would pull him off of it for being too close. He was emotionally invested in Danny and Phantom, and to some extent Cindy, too. It was dangerous in their line of work, but if he tried to pull back now… He didn’t think he could.

“What’s this ‘rejected grant proposal’?” Bruce asked, leaning over to read a page half hidden under a grainy newspaper photo of Phantom under the headline Inviso-Bill Strikes Again! Apparently, no one told Phantom not to let the media name you.

“They applied for a Wayne Tech grant for emerging science, and you denied it.” Tim sat back down and spun in his computer chair, careful not to spill his coffee.

Bruce gingerly pulled the note off the wall without disturbing any of the surrounding papers. Tim had practically memorized the decade-old proposal. If his suspicions were correct it may have something to do with what had killed Phantom. “I remember them. They had proposed some kind of portal to a hypothetical dimension where ghosts come from. I didn’t believe in ghosts at the time and thought they were crazy.” 

“And now?” 

Bruce paused, considering. “I’d still deny the proposal but would be sure to keep a close eye on them. The security risk of an unprotected portal to another dimension is too high to properly account for. We have no idea what these beings want.” It was true, if the ghosts wanted anything they didn’t know what it was. But if what Phantom had said was true then ghosts just want to exist. 

“I think—” Tim took a deep breath. He didn’t really want to say it, as if he would speak it into being. “I think they built one, and I think Phantom was created in the process and somehow attached himself to Danny.”

“Why do you think that?”

Tim pulled on a string and Bruce followed it to its end. It was a patient chart written by Doctor Foley, diagnosing Daniel Fenton with bradycardia and Raynaud’s disease. “Slow heart rate and cold hands?” 

“Cass mentioned how cold his hands were when they first met. I didn’t think anything of it at the time but—”

“But Phantom is cold, too.”

“Freezing.” Tim gripped his warm mug more tightly, remembering the ice-cold fingers on his face when they first met. “He can make ice.” 

“That isn’t a lot of evidence.”

Tim sighed. “It's more than that. They move the same, talk the same, have some of the same quirks, and —” Tim hesitated. “And Danny has fangs sometimes.” 

Bruce frowned at the mention of fangs but didn’t say anything, instead, he went back to studying the evidence and didn’t speak for a long time. “So, Vlad Masters was in an accident with Jack and Maddie Fenton, resulting in a fast heart rate and high temperature, and Danny was possibly in a similar accident resulting in a slow heart rate and low temperature. Is there a ghost attached to Masters, too?” Tim tapped a newspaper article printed in a conspiracy paper: The Wisconsin Ghost Got Me Fired written by Harriett Chin. “The Wisconsin Ghost?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“He shows up everywhere Vlad goes eventually,” Tim said. “And has been implicated in robberies that seem to coincide with mysterious windfalls that benefit Masters.” Tim pulled out a grainy photo of a man in a white and black suit with a red and white cape. The suit wasn’t too dissimilar to Phantom’s. 

“That would explain so much about Vlad Masters," Bruce said. Tim could practically see the gears turning in the man's head, no doubt already planning on how he could investigate the man. “Phantom doesn’t seem to be like him, though.” 

“No, they are very different.” Tim finished his coffee and put the empty mug on the desk. “And none of them are anything like what the Fentons say ghosts are like.” 

“What do they say ghosts are like?” Bruce looked up from the picture, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Evil, manipulative, and non-sentient.” Tim scrubbed his hand through his hair and stood up, the chair shooting out behind him. “I’ve read their research, B," Tim waved an irritated hand at the computer. "It’s all bullshit. They’re bad scientists, and on top of that, their hatred for ghosts is obvious. It reads like hate speech with data tables inserted to make it look sciencey. And they make weapons to use against ghosts, you should see some of the test footage, B, they’re like sci-fi blasters. If they knew that a ghost had attached themselves to their son—” Tim cut himself off, not wanting to think of the implications.

“Is he safe there?” Bruce asked, standing to the side as Tim paced. 

“I—” Tim swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I don’t know.” But he did. Danny had bruises on his arm that looked like a large handprint. Danny carried around a medkit to rival his own. Danny had scars on his arms like he had been hit by blasters. Just like the weapons his parents make. “I don’t think so. He has bruises and scars and he hides them.”

Bruce’s face took on a dark cast. “Can you get him out of the house? I can talk to his parents.” 

Tim let out a shaky sigh, considering. “I can invite him over to the penthouse on Friday. We have to finish our physics project, anyway. It’s due next week. I might be able to convince him to stay the night, maybe even until Monday.” 

“Invite him to the manor.” 

“No,” Tim said quickly. “If I invite him to the manor everyone will show up. We don’t want to scare him off.” Tim could only imagine the chaos that would occur should he bring Danny or anyone he was interested in back to the Manor, for their protection or not. Damian was getting better around people but still defaulted to violence when he felt uncomfortable or out of step. Dick would for sure make an excuse to come over and the man did not know when to quit. He liked Danny, as a friend and maybe as something more, later, in the future after he figures out what is going on and makes sure Danny is safe. He did not need to introduce him to the family in the middle of everything else going on. 

“Just the two of you, alone all weekend?” Bruce gave him a suspicious look. 

Tim groaned, rubbing between his eyes. He was too tired for this. “Nothing is going to happen, Bruce. Just because I like someone–” 

“So you do like him. I thought Dick was just teasing you.” Bruce said, his face softening.

Tim paused, thrown off by his tone. He stammered to find his words, feeling his face flush as they landed on the truth.“Yes, okay, I like Danny,” he admitted, his throat feeling bone-dry despite all of the coffee.

Bruce gave him a rare smile. “Thank you for telling me. Don’t do anything irresponsible.” Tim groaned and regretted saying anything. He should have just lied. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Danny was early to school on Monday, as usual. He didn't get any sleep that night, despite his exhaustion. His mind kept running back and forth all night over what had happened in the cemetery. 

Tim Drake was Red Robin. He wasn't sure how to face him now that he knew. Or at least thought he knew. He had no proof besides his gut feelings, but his instincts were rarely wrong. Should he say something? Or should he let Tim tell him in his own time? Danny knew better than most how important secret identities were, especially since it wasn't just Tim's identity on the line. Because if Tim was Red Robin, then it would make sense that the other vigilantes were his family. What did a man like Batman do to people who figure out his secret identity? Danny didn’t want to find out.

One thing he knew for certain, though, was he didn’t want Tim to find out that he was Phantom. Sure, Red Robin had said he didn't think Phantom was evil, but he was also trying to get Danny to put him in contact with Phantom. Was Red Robin the kind of person to lie to get what he wanted? And what did that mean for Danny and Tim? Had Tim been nice to him this whole time to get more information about Phantom? To what end? He doesn't think so. Tim hadn't mentioned ghosts to him, so surely he wasn’t using him…

Right?

Danny scrubbed his hands in his hair and laid his head down on the desk. This line of thinking wasn't getting him anything but a headache. He just wanted to see Tim. He hoped he would bring his jacket back. But would he? Danny hadn't texted Tim all weekend. True, he’d been too busy being used as a pincushion, but they usually texted at least once a day and the silence now felt deafening. Danny pressed his forehead into the desk and tried to refocus his thoughts.

Tim wasn’t anything to him. They were just friends. At least, Danny thought so. In any case, Tim didn't owe him a text. He didn’t owe him anything.

Danny groaned and closed his eyes. He needed to stop thinking and get a little sleep before class started. He wouldn't know anything until Tim came into class, anyway. 

Except… Tim never showed up for class. Danny kept glancing at Tim’s empty seat and wondering… Did he do something wrong? No, why would Tim skip if he was mad at Danny? Was he okay? He tried to remember if he had heard any news about Red Robin after they had met up in the graveyard but he pulled a blank. He didn’t think so, but he didn’t usually follow the news very closely. Gods, he hoped Tim was okay.

Danny usually hid on the roof during lunch to take a nap, but he didn’t want to be at school right now. He made his way to the front desk and signed himself out, claiming he had a doctor's appointment. The secretary told him to get a doctor's note and let him go without any fuss. Danny left with a slump in his shoulders, wandering around the city for the rest of the day.

***

Tim got to school early on Tuesday and wasn’t surprised to see Danny already there with his head on the desk. Tim set the paper cup of coffee down next to Danny without saying a word. It had become a sort of ritual to bring him coffee every day. Danny looked up, first at the cup, then at Tim. 

He had to stop himself from gasping. 

Danny looked like a walking corpse. Dark bags were under his eyes, and his skin looked pale and sallow. He remembered how bad Phantom had looked the other night and wondered just how deeply their connection ran, wondering if Phantom’s condition was affecting Danny.

“Are you okay?” Tim asked before he could stop himself.

“Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well.” Tim tried to ignore the stiffness in Danny’s voice and his movements as he reached for his coffee. It was almost forgotten when he saw a large yellowing bruise on his forearm before the arm was tucked against Danny’s stomach, hiding the mark. When had he gotten that? How? 

Tim was pulled out of his musings when Danny spoke. “I think I left my jacket at your place.” He said, rubbing his arms. “Could I come by after school and get it? It's kind of my only one."

Tim mentally shook himself. “Oh, I have it.” Tim slung his backpack off and pulled the red hoodie out, handing it over. “Alfred washed it, sorry."

Danny slipped the jacket on, effectively hiding that god-awful bruise. How had he managed it yesterday? And what did he mean—it's his only jacket? Surely he had a heavier coat for winter? It was only halfway through October, and already it was getting close to freezing in the early morning. Tim added it to the list of questions that needed answered about Danny and took his seat as more students filed in. He turned around to see that Danny had already laid his head back down.

“Danny?” Tim asked, suddenly nervous. Danny tilted his head so he was looking at Tim with it still nestled in his arms. “I wanted to ask if you could come over on Friday. Our project is due next week, and we still have to build the train.”

Danny’s eyebrows furrowed. “Sure, but we will have to go by mine first to get the prototype I built."

“Prototype?” Tim asked. Danny hadn’t mentioned a prototype.

“Yeah?” Danny sat up and tilted his head. “I knew it would take the longest to get it working, so I started on it first. It’s almost done.”

Tim couldn’t decide if he was impressed or scared that Danny had built a mostly working maglev train prototype in less than two months. Probably impressed. “Yeah, I can bring a car on Friday, and we’ll go by yours first."

Danny nodded and drained the last of his coffee right before the first bell rang.

***

Friday rolled around, both too quickly and not quickly enough. Patrol had been going smoothly, which in the leadup to Halloween was not normal. The disconcerting quiet put everyone on edge. Tim had swung by the graveyard a few times but hadn’t seen any trace of Phantom or Cindy, even with the help of the hag ring Phantom gave him. There was a bit of a green mist over Cindy’s mom’s grave, visible only with the hag ring, but no other discernible differences. 

After school on Friday, Tim met Danny by the front gates of the school, and together they walked the block and a half to the parking garage with free parking for students and staff. Danny was quiet on the walk, shoulders hitched high and his hands busy fidgeting with the sleeves of his jacket and picking at his cuticles. As they pulled up outside his house, he visibly relaxed. No lights were on in the brownstone. Instead of going in the front, Danny led him around the back of the building and up a set of stairs that led to an attic apartment.

“Mom and Dad don’t come in here,” Danny said as he flipped on a light. The apartment had been transformed into a sort of workshop, with one large dinner table in the middle of what would have been the living room serving as a worktable. “So I took it over."

“I can see that,” Tim said, approaching the table. There were all sorts of things spread out: half-disassembled microwaves and computers, spools of wire and tools haphazardly tossed on the table, and grease-smeared sketches littered about, supposedly near the projects they went with. Tim saw about a half dozen rods that could have been prototypes of the ones Phantom used in the graveyard, as well as a sketch showing the inner workings of them. Against the walls, there were metal panels that looked like they had been taken from a dozen different washers and dryers.

“The prototype is in here,” Danny said, heading down a narrow hallway and into what would have been a bedroom. A folding plastic table was shoved against the wall under a small window, littered with magnets, wires, and sundries. Most of the floor space was taken up by a second dining room table, this one round with the varnish long since worn off, and the wood beneath it scratched and dented. On the table was a track nearly as big as the table. It stood six inches tall, and Tim could see wires bundled up and running around the full length of it, connecting to circuits and computer chips. In the middle of the track were dozens of other prototypes. Some were as simple as magnet strips glued to a track and train cars made from cardboard, and others were more complex, like a circular one with bar magnets and a large neodymium magnet suspended above it. Tim was sure any one of them would have been enough to prove the concept of the project. “I still have to make the casing to hide the wires, but it works. Want to see?” Danny was nearly bouncing on his feet, his excitement barely hidden.

“Yeah, of course,” Tim said. He needed to see this thing in action.

Danny grinned, grabbed a toy car from the mess of stuff on the table, and set it on the track. Then he flipped a switch, the track buzzed with electricity and the car lifted a few millimeters. Danny twisted a control dial, and the car inched forward bit by bit, gaining speed as Danny pushed the dial further. “I usually only go this fast,” Danny said as the car raced around the track. “It tends to get unstable if I go any faster."

“This doesn’t look like a maglev track.” Tim pointed out as the car sped past him.

“It isn’t. Traditional maglev tracks need to be purpose-built, so I tried to make it so the original infrastructure could be used as much as possible. It’s slightly less efficient than traditional models, but it should be cheaper and faster to build.” Tim only realized he was staring at Danny when he shifted. “What?”

“We were supposed to show how maglev trains work, not revolutionize the technology."

“Well, yeah, but this is better.” Danny shifted again and looked down at the track he had built. “Do you think we will fail?”

Tim breathed deeply through his nose. “No, Danny, I don’t think we’ll fail." Danny’s grin was brilliant.

It took them about two hours to break down the track and get it packed into Tim’s trunk. By the time they finished, the sun had started to go down, and Tim noted there still wasn’t any sign of Danny’s parents. When he asked, Danny shrugged.

“Sometimes they spend the night at work,” Danny said offhand as he placed the last bit of track in the trunk and gently closed it.

“They’re scientists, right?” Tim couldn’t miss the way Danny tensed at that question.

“Yeah-” he straightened his jacket and suddenly found the sidewalk fascinating. “Sometimes they get wrapped up in their experiments, or it can’t be left alone overnight."

“What are they working on? You had said it was clean energy, right?” Tim had his suspicions about what ‘clean energy’ source they might be working with. He thought it must have something to do with ectoplasm, but it would be nice to have confirmation.

“Yeah, but they don’t talk to me about it much,” Danny said quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. He went to get in the passenger seat and Tim followed him to the driver's seat and started the car. He got the distinct impression that Danny knew exactly what his parents were working on and didn’t want to tell him. Did it have something to do with Phantom? He knew Danny's parents were obsessed with ghosts and thought they were evil. Unbidden, the image of Danny’s arm, covered in a three-day-old bruise, came to his mind. Did they already know that Danny and Phantom were linked?

“Are they going to be okay with you coming over tonight?” Tim asked. He still remembered the conversation he overheard last week.

“Yeah. As long as I’m home on Saturday, they don’t care what I do during the week."

Tim tried hard not to, but he couldn’t help but compare Danny’s parents' situational neglect to his own parents' demands when they were home compared to their uncaring attitude when they were away. He wanted to ask if Danny was okay with it or if he wanted more attention like Tim had as a child, but instead, he asked only “Thai or Mexican?” and pulled out into the street.

***

Batman watched as his son drove away from the brownstone with Danny Fenton safe in the passenger seat. The Fenton parents were still at work, and the tracker he had placed on their van— if you could call it that— would alert him when they left. When he was sure no one was watching, he dropped down into the alley and let himself into the house. He didn’t bother turning on a light, relying on the night vision built into his cowl. It didn’t take long to find the door to the basement and slip down the steps. The first thing he noticed was the large computer sitting against the wall. He plugged in a dongle that would upload all the information to the batcomptuer to go through later.

Batman turned his attention to the rest of the space. There was a large workbench against one wall with glass vials set in wooden holders, beakers, and paper notes spread out. He carefully lifted one vial and nearly dropped it. It had about three milliliters of glowing green liquid at the bottom. There was a handwritten label on it, “D.F.” and then a date, last Saturday. He put the vial back and checked the one next to it. It had about the same amount of green liquid and the same initials, but it was dated for the previous week. Batman picked up what should be the first vial in the series. “D.F.” and a date from the end of May. This vial was nearly filled with the green substance.

He spread out the paper notes and skimmed them as his cowl scanned the images. D.F., just as he suspected, stood for Danny Fenton. The green was what his parents called ectoplasm and had come from blood samples that they had taken from the boy over the last five months. On the last page of notes, he stopped, his blood chilled by what he read. In what he had come to recognize as Madeline Fenton’s neat writing were the words, “No change over three weeks. Plan C to be enacted should no change be seen in week four.”

Chapter Text

Batman made his way through the house slowly. The Fentons were still at work even though it was nearing eleven pm. The kitchen was in a dismal state, the pantry nearly empty with only a few jars of pasta sauce, some half-empty boxes of spaghetti, and a can of beans. The fridge contained only to-go containers from half a dozen restaurants and a carton of milk that was turning into sour cream.

The living room held only a large couch and a television that wasn't even plugged in. A thick layer of dust coated every surface, as if the room hadn't seen regular use in a long time. Heading upstairs, Batman found two bedrooms and a small bathroom between them. He entered the master bedroom first, which proved to be just as messy as the rooms below. The bed was a tangle of sheets, stained orange, and teal jumpsuits were piled up around the laundry basket, and dirty dishes and fast food containers covered nearly every surface. 

Wrinkling his nose, Batman shut the door and slipped into the second bedroom. It looked to be an extension of the parents' lab or a workroom. Wire shelves lined the walls, covered in a jumble of spare parts and devices that were in various states of completion. There didn’t seem to be any sense of organization to the clutter, as if things were stuck on the shelves at random. Batman carefully lifted what looked to be a revolver with the cylinder missing. It had no hammer or any visible way to fire a bullet. Judging by the wear pattern on the barrel, it seemed to be used to fire semi-solid, high-energy charges. That could be dangerous if it worked. 

Why weren’t these people on his watch list? An oversight that he was going to be correcting immediately. 

So far, he had yet to see any trace of Danny living in the house itself. Then again, when Tim and Danny were here they hadn’t gone into the house proper, they had gone around back. Batman swept out of the house and rounded the side. An old metal staircase led to a flimsy door that was only secured by a deadbolt. Easy to pick. Unsecured. 

The attic had been transformed into an apartment sometime in the early twenties judging by the electrical wires attached to the walls rather than installed into it and the exposed outlet boxes. There was no way it was up to code. Someone had wanted to make a single-family home into a duplex without giving up any of their own living space. Two tiny bedrooms and a kitchen had been squeezed into the space. Is this where Danny has been living? Batman cast his eyes around the space. The living room held only a round dining table cluttered with a mess of parts and pieces similar to the parent's workspace downstairs, but with much more of a sense of organization. 

The tiny galley kitchen showed signs of frequent use with seasonings and cooking utensils in easy reach of the stove and a mini fridge stocked with milk, butter, eggs, and a few Tupperware of leftovers. Where had Danny learned to cook? Judging by the state of the kitchen downstairs, it wasn't from his parents. 

Most of the space in the first bedroom was taken up by a large, empty table. Against the wall was a smaller table scattered with cardboard models and scribbled notes detailing plans for a larger, more complicated train. Well, that explained the boxes Tim and Danny had been bringing down. 

The second bedroom was spartan compared to the rest of the apartment. There was no clutter, no knickknacks, or pictures, or posters, and barely any furnishings. A neatly made, bare-bones bed had been pushed against the wall and a small desk was squeezed into the space below the dormer window. Sitting at the desk he could just see the sky over the roofline across the street. Batman cataloged the water damage on the drywall, the smell of mildew that permeated the attic, and the lack of personal belongings in Danny’s room. Was it Danny's choice to live in the attic, or had he been pushed out of the house due to his parents–he hesitated to call what they did work? It seemed like he had been taking care of himself for a while. Danny was still in high school, he shouldn't have to live alone in this moldering attic. Not when there were other options. Batman stood from the desk. He was going to head back to the cave and start going through the data they had gotten from the computers. He could start building a case against them for human experimentation at a minimum. Child neglect and child endangerment would be easy to prove to CPS, as well. 

He was shaken from his musings when his wrist computer beeped. The Fentons were on the move. 

Batman hadn’t taken a single step when he heard the explosion, far off but distinct in the way it resonated. Several miles away, at least. His cowl HUD lit up with notifications, incoming emergency calls, and dispatch. The explosion was located toward the south. He was on his way to the Batmobile before Oracle patched herself into his commline. 

“B,” Oracle’s modulated voice cut in. “There’s been an explosion on Tricorners. Spoiler is on her way, but she’ll need backup.”

“I’m twenty minutes out.” The Batmobile pulled up with a near-silent hum of the engine, and he hopped in and took off before the door had even closed. “What do we know?”

“Not much. A warehouse went up a minute ago, owned by a shell corp, BloomPower. I’m working a trace to find who owns it but,” Oracle trailed off. He could hear her furious typing even through the high-tech headset so he let her find her words. “Preliminary reports on the explosion are… odd.”

“Odd how?” Batman asked as he cut the wrong way down a one-way street and jumped a curb onto the exit for the Madison Street Bridge.

“They say the flames are–are green? There aren’t many cameras nearby, so I can’t confirm.”

The word green hardly registered in Batman’s mind before another voice cut in. “O,” Spoiler said, sounding pained and out of breath. “How quickly can you get back up here?”

“Batman is on his way, can you hold out for fifteen?” Oracle asked. Batman pushed the Batmobile to go even faster. 

“We’re going to need more than that. It’s Ivy, and she’s pissed.” 

***

Tim tried hard to focus on editing the chart he was making. He was good at charts. Graphs, too. And PowerPoints? Easy money. Which was why it was so hard to focus on it: it didn't require enough brain power to distract from Danny. Who, it seemed, wasn't having the same issue. The other boy had been sitting on the floor across the coffee table focused entirely on building the model train for the better part of four hours. Tim didn't think he had ever seen Danny so still and focused. There was a small furrow between his brows and a tenseness around his mouth that suggested a frown but didn't quite make it all the way through. For a second Tim thought of reaching out and smoothing the lines away, trailing his fingers down Danny's jaw over his pursed lips–before mentally shaking himself and refocusing on his work. The chart was done in a matter of minutes and the PowerPoint only needed some stock images added. Was it cheating to use Wayne E’s license for them? Maybe. Was he going to do it anyway? Yes. 

Danny shifted on the floor in front of him and he glanced up to watch him stick a magnet to the underside of the train. Ignore him. Ignore Cindy, who he couldn't see, but could feel as a spot of heat next to him on the couch. Ignore the blinking red light in the corner of his laptop screen indicating that files were being uploaded to the Batcomputer. He itched to dig into them; he wanted to know what was going on, and he hated being out of the loop. Instead of giving in to his curiosity, Tim shifted and started to bounce his leg to dispel some of the nervous energy that was coursing through his body. 

Stock images were added to the PowerPoint, and Tim gave the final report a once-over and checked it against the rubric. They had hit on the major points and completed all the requirements, so all that they needed now was a working model. 

“There, that ought to do it,” Danny said as if he could read Tim's mind. He flipped a switch, and the little silver train started to float above the track and, with the turn of a dial, inched slowly forward. A bright grin spread across Danny's face as the train picked up speed around the track. Tim’s stomach flipped at Danny's excitement, he just looked so cute when he was happy.

“Awesome!” Tim said instead of something stupid like ‘You have a beautiful smile’. “I've just finished the PowerPoint, so that means we are done.” 

“Great.” Danny switched the train off and leaned back, arms extended and hands clasped above his head. Danny’s shirt pulled up, showing an inch of pale skin for a moment before Danny’s back popped loudly. With a sigh, Danny lowered his arms and looked out the large window showing the view of the Gotham skyline. “And it's only, what, ten o'clock?” 

Tim glanced at the clock on his laptop. “9:53.” Danny hummed in acknowledgment and stood, still looking out the window with something like longing on his face. Tim watched him silently for a few moments before setting his laptop aside. 

“Do you want to go somewhere? Just to get out of the city for a little while?” Tim asked. Danny turned and regarded him curiously. “I know a place. It's about an hour away, and the view is amazing.” 

A small smile crept across Danny’s face. “Alright.” 

***

The Gotham Observatory sat on a high cliff on the edge of Sheldon Park and looked out over the ocean. It had been built in the forties by Wayne Enterprises and was a marvel of engineering at the time. It had seen some upgrades over the years, as well as some villain attacks. Eventually, it was decommissioned in the eighties due to increasing light pollution from the growing city, and a new observatory was built farther from the city on the mainland, and the old one had fallen into disrepair. None of which Tim knew or particularly cared about. However, Danny informed him all about it and some of the more interesting discoveries that were made at the observatory after they dismounted Tim’s Ducati. 

The wind from the sea was cool, bordering on cold, and had Tim wishing he’d grabbed a heavier coat, though it didn’t seem to bother Danny at all. As soon as he caught a glimpse of the view Danny had gone quiet. It was a clear night for once, and the stars were more visible this far from the city proper. Tim stood next to Danny and wondered what he thought when he saw the stars. They had always been just pricks of light to Tim. Pretty to look at, but he could never really understand what captivated people. Why study the stars when there are so many problems on Earth they can’t solve yet? But Danny looked up at the stars as if they held the secrets of the universe. Maybe they did.

The silence between them widened, not uncomfortable but edging toward awkwardness. He should say something, right?

“Do you have a favorite star?” he asked, feeling dumb and slow. Who has a favorite star? 

Danny, apparently. 

“Beta Persei,” Danny said without hesitation, pointing toward the northeast. “Better known as Algol or the Demon Star. It’s in the head of the Gorgon in the constellation Perseus.” As he spoke, Danny traced his finger along lines that Tim couldn’t see and talked at length about what made Algol special. “It's an eclipsing binary star system, one of the first ever discovered…”

As Danny spoke they found themselves sitting on the cool, dry ground. Tim wished he’d had the forethought to prepare for their trip. This would have been a great first date, cuddling under a blanket and sharing a thermos of hot chocolate while they stargazed. He hadn’t seen Danny this excited about anything, the other boy practically had stars in his eyes as he waxed poetic about early astronomy. Gods, he was cute when he was excited about something. 

That thought was probably what had Tim leaning forward when Danny paused to take a breath, hand reaching out to cup his cheek and bring their lips together in a chaste kiss. Tim pulled back after a moment, but Danny surged forward and caught his lips; chilled fingers dug into his hairline, sending goosebumps down his back. A fire started in Tim’s core and he took control of the kiss, pulling Danny’s shirt up and sliding his hand across the smooth expanse of skin. Tim tilted his head and licked at Danny’s chapped lips, asking permission, but Danny gasped and pulled back. Tim only had a second to mourn the loss before Danny was up and pacing.

“Shit,” Danny breathes, hands pulling at his hair. “Shit”. 

“I’m sorry,” Tim starts, pulling himself off the ground. “I shouldn’t have–”

“No, I’m sorry,” Danny cut him off. “I’m—” He took a deep breath and turned to face Tim. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, it’s just I’m–”

BOOM!

Tim and Danny both whipped around to face the south where a large cloud of smoke rose into the night, lit from below by bright green fire. 

“That’s Tricorner,” Tim said, reflexively reaching for the comm that wasn’t in his ear tonight. He had to call it in. No, he should go help. Steph had Tricorner tonight, and the bats were already stretched thin with Dick in Bludhaven and Cass back in Hong Kong. 

“We should go, Red,” Danny said. The seriousness of his voice pulled Tim out of his thoughts. Danny was already heading back to where he had parked the bike. 

“Danny-what?” Something was wrong with what Danny had just said but Tim couldn’t even analyze it before his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a text from Oracle. 

‘Situation going down in Tricorner, all hands on deck.’ 

Danny tossed a helmet toward him and Tim caught it with barely a glance. He already had the spare helmet on, and visor down so Tim couldn’t see his face, but the set of his shoulders was grim. 

The ride back into Gotham proper went quicker than the ride out. It may have had something to do with the fact that they were going way above the speed limit. Tim called into Oracle when they were on the bridge heading toward Somerset and he was sure the wind would drown out any conversation. 

“Red Robin, checking in,” Tim took a corner at speed and Danny tightened his grip around his middle. He tried not to let it distract him. 

“Red,” Oracle came over the comm in his helmet. “Ivy is making a mess in Tricorner. Spoiler is on the scene and Batman is en route. How quickly can you get there?” 

“I need half an hour. I have to drop off a package in the East End first.” They were blowing past Crime Alley and Tim wondered about calling in Hood. He usually didn’t get involved unless rogues were in his territory or their cases overlapped. “Any idea why Ivy went nuclear?” It had been nearly a year since they had any problems with Ivy. She had been working with an independent lab to revive endangered and extinct flora, and attending therapy regularly. She and Harley had even talked about moving in together once Harley was released from Arkham.

“No clue yet why she snapped, but I’m sure she’ll tell you if you ask.” 

They were pulling up to Danny’s street so Tim slowed the bike to a more reasonable speed and let out a breath as Danny's brownstone came into view.

“I’ll be there soon, Red Out.” Tim disconnected the call and stopped the bike in front of the house. 

Danny hopped off the bike as soon as it stopped and Tim immediately missed his presence at his back. “Be safe,” he said seriously as he handed the helmet over. Tim nodded and took off toward his nearest safehouse without a glance back.

Chapter Text

Danny watched Tim’s red tail lights disappear around a corner at speeds that would have sent any normal bike into a wall. If he hadn’t been sure that Tim was Red Robin before, he was now. The conversation he had overheard while pressed tight against the other boy echoed in his head: Poison Ivy had caused an explosion. An ectoplasm green explosion in the same area of the city his parents worked in. It wasn’t a coincidence, it couldn’t be, not with his luck. People might be in danger, and his core longed to go help them, but when he pulled on his powers and tried to shift there was nothing except an ache in his chest like an overworked muscle. Danny leaned against the door and let his head thud against the wood. Ancients, he’d never felt so useless. He rubbed his face and his hand stopped over his lips. 

He’d kissed Tim Drake. He’d kissed Red Robin. Danny slammed a fist into the door. “Idiot!” He had a plan, damn it! He couldn’t afford to get any more involved with people. Not when there were only a few weeks before the portal had enough juice to open. Not when he was this close. 

Before he could get too far into his spiral, the door opened behind him. Danny just barely caught himself before he went sprawling into his dad.

“Dann-o! You’re home early, good! We can go ahead and get started now.” Jack grabbed him by the shoulder and tugged him into the house before Danny could gather himself.

“Get started?” he asked, eyeing his dad’s goofy grin as he led him into the basement. When was the last time he had looked at him like that? Like he was glad to see him? It made his throat go tight. “On what?” Maddie turned from the notes she was scribbling at the work bench.

“Oh, Danny. I thought I heard you.” she held up a plastic cooler like she was showing off a trophy. “We are going to start on Plan ‘C’, of course.”

***

“Pamela, can't we talk about this?” Tim asked as he dodged a Dodge Neon that Poison Ivy flung at him. “At least tell us what happened.”

“I'm through talking! I wasn't bothering anyone!” Ivy screamed from atop a parking garage. Tim and Steph were stuck on the street, unable to get close due to the vines.  “I wasn't doing anything illegal. I was minding my business, and those… idiots! Came in and destroyed months worth of my research. I just returned the favor.”

“You blew up a building,” Spoiler shouted, before letting out a gasp when a vine crept close and twisted around her leg, yanking her up into the air. 

“They killed my babies!” Pam screeched. “And I'll kill them for it!” 

A vine shot out of the pavement, wrapping itself around Tim’s middle and threw him into Steph. Tim recovered in time to grab onto the vine holding her up and sever it quickly with a knife. They hit the concrete in a roll and jolted to their feet, kicking away the cut remains of the vine. With a glance at each other and a nod, they took off in opposite directions.

“I understand you’re upset.” Tim shouted, extending his Bo staff to block more seeking vines. “But this isn’t rational.”

“If they killed endangered plants, we can get the EPA involved and charge them for it,” Steph said, starting to climb up the vines surrounding the parking garage. “Killing them isn’t the answer.” 

Another vine shot out of the pavement and Tim leapt over it, rounding the stairs of the parking garage. He was almost to the top now. If he could get close enough, he could subdue Ivy and end this. 

Out of the corner of his eye, just through one of the open windows, he saw the vine Steph was climbing shift. Her grip slipped as the parking garage groaned and concrete cracked. The vines were pulling the structure apart. Tim had no time to react. He could only watch as she fell, helpless, before a black shadow swooped down and back up, a flash of purple in his grip. 

Batman was here!

“Finally!” Tim exclaimed, pulling out his own grapple and following them up to the top. “Where have you been? I don’t know how much longer we could have stalled.” 

Batman, true to form, only grunted in response. With the three of them, it was easy to take Ivy down. The three of them worked together in perfect, practiced, synch. Spoiler went left, Red Robin went right, and Batman went straight for Ivy. A smoke bomb, some well-aimed batarangs, and one swift blow to the knee, and Ivy was on the pavement.

Batman hummed as he zip-tied Ivy’s hands behind her back. “Fire and rescue should be here soon to put out the warehouse fire. Red Robin, collect some samples from Ivy’s warehouse before they get here.”

“Samples of what?” Tim asked, but Batman had already turned his back. He left without another word, Ivy tossed over his shoulder.

“I can help,” Steph said. 

Tim paused. He could use an extra set of eyes to look for… whatever it was Batman wanted him to find. But– “No, you should return to the cave and get agent A to check out your ankle.” Steph opened her mouth to protest, but Tim shook his head. “Don’t think I can’t see how you’re limping. Go, I’ll meet you there.” 

Steph pouted, clearly wanting to argue more, but left. Without any other distractions, Tim made his way to Ivy’s warehouse.

Purple lights lit the inside, giving everything an eerie, sickly look. The warehouse was filled with pots and plants, their leaves dark from the light. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “Samples of what?” he muttered as he wandered through the plants. Hundreds of rare flowers filled the space, from tiny purple buds nestled among waxy leaves, to a large red plant with yellow spots that smelled like death, and many more that Tim couldn’t begin to name.

“Oh.” Tim stopped, looking down. Dirt covered the ground with broken stems and crushed leaves. Rows and rows of shattered pots, completely ransacked. Tim pulled out an evidence bag and scooped up samples of the various plants and soil. He left just as the first fire trucks arrived.

***

Danny watched with dread as the centrifuge spun his blood in circles. All the molecules were separating, the heavier ones being forced down to the tip and pulling the ectoplasm out of suspension. Six vials, ten milliliters each. Sixty milliliters. Two ounces of blood spinning round and round. The red numbers on the display counted down the minutes and seconds left in the cycle while the three of them watched in silence. He felt as if he were standing on a blade's edge, and the blood in those vials would determine if he stayed balanced on the edge for another week or if he toppled off. And if he did? What happens then?

He risked a glance at Maddie. What was plan C? The cooler she had been carrying was sitting just behind her, unassuming, with no outward clue as to what was inside. There had been nothing in their notes or on the computer about it. Not knowing was the worst part. It couldn't be anything good, not with Maddie taking the lead on it. She was always the better inventor between her and Jack. Her inventions always worked as designed. 

The chime of the centrifuge was deafening in the silent basement. The vials were removed and set into a tray and one by one Maddie removed the ectoplasm with a sharp needle and syringe. Six equal amounts of ectoplasm were placed into a separate vial to be measured by weight and volume and compared to the previous week’s sample. Complicated math was scribbled on a scrap of paper, parts per million were figured, more than this was bad, less than that was good. Danny couldn’t care about the numbers anymore. The lines around his dad’s eyes tightened, the furrow between his mom’s brows deepened, and a sigh escaped her lips. He knew before she said anything. The numbers were bad. 

“Okay, sweetheart, we are going to try something new,” she said, her voice high and sweet, but there was a predatory gleam in her eyes that spoke of excitement. It was the same look she got when presented with some new interesting specimen. It set his heart rabbiting in his chest. 

“What are you going to try?” he asked, arms crossed across his chest, weight shifting between his feet. It was taking everything in him to keep them solidly on the ground. To not take off up the stairs and fly away somewhere with no Plan C. No blood tests or labs.

She didn’t answer right away, too busy digging into the hard plastic cooler. It had been his, once upon a time. Stars and planet stickers decorated the surface, faded mostly to white with age, and his name, scrawled in permanent marker across the top, had mostly rubbed off leaving only a partial ‘D’ and one ‘n’ behind. A vial was removed, deep red, almost purple, liquid sloshed around inside. Jazz might call it burgundy just to get on his nerves. He knew what it was before Maddie said it. 

“Blood blossom extract!” She held the vial up to the light and twisted it this way and that, as if she were admiring the color. “We’ve been working with Dr. Isley for months to bring the species back from near extinction.”

“You can't give that to me!” Danny said, backing away from the vial. “It could kill me!” He had been exposed to blood blossom before, and it had been one of the most excruciating things he had ever endured. If that was injected into him, the pain alone would kill him. 

“Don't be so dramatic, Danny. It will only break the ectoplasmic bonds, it won't affect living cells.” Maddie set the vial down on the counter and started gathering needles and syringes. “You might feel some flu-like symptoms for a few days, but then you will be right as rain.” 

Danny shook his head and backed away from that vial, from the manic glee on his mother's face. He hit the table behind him, cold steel biting into his hands as he gripped it, trying to make the room stop spinning. He looked for the stairs, but Jack was right there, between him and the only exit. They were going to kill him. They were going to kill him, and he couldn't do anything to convince them not to. How could he explain to them that the ectoplasmic bonds they wanted to break were what was keeping him together? He looked to Jack, hoping his father would see the insanity of this, but he was met with a dark, grim mask. 

“Dad, you can’t just inject me with something untested. What if I’m allergic?” 

“Danny.” Jack said, voice low, mouth twisted and eyebrows furrowed. 

“You don’t have any allergies, Danny,” Maddie said, not looking at him, too focused on drawing up a dose of the blood-red liquid. Danny's throat felt tight at the memory of the last time he had been around the flower. He swallowed hard.

“But– but blood blossoms are extinct, right? I might be allergic to them, we wouldn’t know.” He was grasping at straws. He knew it, but he couldn’t let them put that stuff in him. 

“It’s just a little shot, it’ll hurt more if you fight it.” Maddie turned, and the sharp needle caught the light, a bead of red at the tip. Danny inched along the table away from them. Away from the blood blossoms.

 “Jack, hold him still.” Jack grabbed Danny’s arm and pulled him, thumb digging into the bandage on the crook of his arm where they had drawn blood not an hour ago. Maddie readied the needle, yanking his shirt sleeve up over his shoulder.

“Get away from me!” Danny yelled. There was a pulsing beat in his core, too slow, too strong, to be his heartbeat. “GET–” he felt his core squeeze painfully in his chest, “AWAY!” 

An explosion of light burst forth as his core expanded, knocking his parents back. Away. The syringe lay cracked on the ground, the heady, unmistakable scent of blood blossoms filled the air. He had a second to gasp a breath, hold it. Jack was already stirring. In a leap, Danny crossed the lab and grabbed the vials of ectoplasm from the bench. His ectoplasm, taken from him and measured like a science experiment. He’d need the boost from the ectoplasm to get away from his parents. Away from Gotham. But first he needed to get Cindy home. 

***

“So,” Steph said, leaning back on the medical cot, “how did your date go?” 

Tim shook his head, but didn't pause wrapping her ankle. “It wasn't a date, we were doing homework.”

“If you were doing homework, why were you all the way in Sheldon Park?” she asked with a smug grin.

Tim paused, the bandage pulled tight in one hand, Steph's foot held still in the other.“What — how did you know that? Oh,” he groaned, “Oracle, right?” Tim sighed. Sometimes he really hated how little privacy he got in this family.

“Yeah, so, what happened?”

 “Not much,” Tim shrugged. “We went up to the old observatory.” Tim finished wrapping her ankle and sat beside her on the cot. “I thought he might like it, and he did…” Tim trailed off, playing the rest of the date in his head. “I kissed him.” 

Steph let out a high-pitched squeal and clapped her hands. “Finally! Did he kiss back?”

“Yeah, at first. Then he pulled away and started apologizing.” Tim sighed and ran a hand through his hair before leaning back on the cot with a thump. It was narrow, so his head and shoulder hung off the edge and the world was upside down. Steph matched his pose, her long blonde hair just barely sweeping the floor.

“Is he with someone else?” 

“He's never mentioned anyone else, but it's possible.” Tim closed his eyes and replayed the event again. Right before the explosion, Danny was going to say something. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, it’s just I’m–” what? He had looked so morose, but also…determined? Then the explosion, and then Danny…

“Shit!” Tim jolted up to sitting so fast his head spun, heart racing in his chest. 

“What?” Steph asked, sitting up much slower. 

“Danny called me Red.”