Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Mother, what is a soulmate?” 

Damian was five years old when he first learned about soulmates. 

His mother froze, her hand tightening around the bone handled knife she held.

“Where did you hear that word, Habibi?”

“I heard it from one of the servants in the kitchens.” He answered immediately. He had been crawling through the vents and stopped to listen when he heard whispering voices.

Whispers usually meant secrets and secrets could be an invaluable resource to an assassin. 

“I see,” his mother sighed, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. “A soulmate is your other half, your destiny, the person whose soul fits with your own. They are often romantic pairs, but some people have more than one soulmate or a purely platonic relationship.” She explained briskly.

Damian wrinkled his nose. That sounded like utter nonsense to him. An assassin worked alone in the shadows. Why would he want someone else to get in his way? 

When he said as much his mother just smiled knowingly.

“You don't have a choice; everyone has a soulmate. You’ll appreciate them when you’re older. It is a bond stronger than even blood.” Then she paused, looking into his eyes seriously. “When you find them, be sure to keep them safe. The life we live is not easy and your enemies may see your soulmate as a weakness.”

“I will not!” Damian protested vehemently. “If they are too weak to protect themself, they do not deserve to-”

“Enough.” His mother interrupted. “You may not understand it now, but you will when you're older. Your soulmate is the person who will understand you the most completely, who will love you no matter what. Life isn’t worth living if you lose them, Habibi.” She stood as if the matter was dropped, striding to the door. 

Damian didn’t agree, but he knew better than to argue with her. 

“Is father your soulmate?” he couldn't help but ask.  

“No.” His mother didn’t even pause as she reached for the door handle.

The next day a certain servant from the kitchens was gone and Damian's tutor postponed their lecture on Roman battle tactics, instead giving a factual lesson on soulmates and the research that had been done on them. 

Over the years Talia periodically repeated her instructions to protect his soulmate and eventually Damian came to terms with the idea. He might not be happy about it, but he could accept that it was his duty. 

Damian was ten years old when he decided he needed to re-evaluate the idea of soulmates. 

He had been living in Gotham for almost six months when he met Grayson’s soulmate. Damian immediately disliked the idiotic speedster. He was loud, obnoxious, and had terrible manners. If Grayson weren't so fond of him Damian was sure Pennyworth would have banned West from the Manor entirely. Despite the frankly abhorrent number of crumbs that seemed to gather anywhere West stood for more than a few minutes, the way Grayson looked at him made Damian feel embarrassed, like he was intruding on something that was meant to be private. 

Perhaps a soulmate wouldn’t be as awful as he’d imagined. Even though Grayson deserved a much better soulmate, he seemed very happy with West. In fact, everyone he had met seemed to be very happy with their soulmates. The only question was why? 

Damian could not for the life of him find a compelling reason that so many perfectly capable people, vigilantes even, would be overjoyed to let themselves be shackled to another person. 

Damian was fourteen when he found that reason.

It didn’t come all at once, hitting him like a bag of cement. Instead the realization came to him one insight at a time so he hardly noticed the change until long after it happened.

It wasn’t until he was staring at Doctors Isley and Quinzel having their mid-morning tea that it became conscious.

Companionship.

That was the reason everyone wanted a soulmate. That was why Grayson put up with West. That was why Doctor Isley spent years protecting Harley Quinn despite her romance with the Joker. All those idiotic decisions made in the name of love that hadn’t made sense now had a clear purpose.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad exchange, protection for companionship.

Damian wasn’t adept at affection or endearment. Surely his soulmate would excel in the areas he was lacking. Considering his excessive training in the art of violence and death it stood to reason his soulmate must be an excellent companion.

They would be kind and understanding. They would be warm and friendly. His soulmate would be everything he couldn’t be.

It would be a challenge to protect them from all of the dangers Gotham presented, but it was a task he would take on willingly.

So, Damian threw himself into training with renewed vigor and a new purpose.

oOo

“Hey Melly,” Danny greeted, leaning against the front desk. “I brought coffee!” Melony would look exactly like any receptionist on earth, except that her skin was just slightly too purple to be natural and the wisps of red hair that escaped from her bun moved unnaturally like flames. If Danny had to guess, he would say she had died sometime in the twenty first century but it was nearly impossible to tell in the Infinite Realms. She had worked at the Labyrinth of Lost Souls as long as Danny had been visiting at least. 

“You’re the best!” Melony responded, holding the cup with two hands as if it were the most precious thing she had ever held. “Do you need me to grab you a file?” 

“Not today. I have a meeting with Nell in like ten minutes” Danny explained, glancing at his watch. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” Melony offered, gesturing towards the couch in the lobby. 

Danny didn’t hesitate to make himself at home. He’d spent a lot of time here since the defeat of Pariah Dark. He slipped on his earbuds and lay back on the couch, staring at the painted ceiling. Someone had taken the time to hand paint a mural on the ceiling. It was the history of the Labyrinth. He didn’t understand all of it, the Labyrinth was older than most recorded history even in the ghost zone.  

Billions of years ago before there were even any humans on earth, the first ruler of the dead ordered the construction of the first, and still one of the only, ghost-made structures in the Infinite Realms. Usually buildings like temples, homes, and offices simply appeared in the ghost zone as someone with a strong attachment to them died. It's how most objects in the Infinite Realms come to be. But The Queen wanted something permanent, unique, and secure. So, she had the best architects and magicians in the afterlife design the building to be built inside the largest volcano. 

It was beautiful when it was finished. Polished gold doors that tower over sixteen feet tall set directly into the side of an active volcano. Inside there are rows and rows of files on every subject known to the dead. The Queen appointed twelve of her most trusted advisors to guard over the repository of information and cast a spell so that anyone else would be lost in the maze of shelves if they dared to enter. 

Originally it had been meant merely as a way to save knowledge through the millennia, but as the old queen was usurped and the years actually went by the next rulers built on the idea. The twelve advisors became the council of ancients and eventually another building was built around the base of the volcano, hiding the doors from sight. Keepers were found to both add new information to the labyrinth and to retrieve authorized files for those who needed them. After the defeat of Pariah Dark, Queen Dora let the Office of Lost Souls expand the building to act as their headquarters as well. 

One of the main duties of the ruler of the Infinite Realms is to keep the peace between the living and dead. The office of lost souls, or Labyrinth of Lost Souls as some were calling it now, was in charge of keeping track of all the ghosts that were created outside of the infinite realms and helping them with whatever was keeping them tethered to the living realm. 

After years of neglect under the rule of Pariah Dark the Office of lost souls was barely functioning anymore. Luckily the damage wasn’t irreparable, but it had taken over a year to get it functioning as well as it was now, and that was with the liberal use of time travel Clockwork allowed Danny to use. 

 Everyone knew that technically Danny worked for Dora, but she mostly let him do whatever he felt like was the best use of his time. So, he usually split his time between helping out in Amity and doing whatever Nell asked him to do. 

Nellmuck was the current director for the Office of Lost Souls. They were personally in charge of assigning cases, training afterlife guides, and analyzing fixed events in addition to making sure everything ran smoothly. It was an important job and Danny didn’t envy them at all. 

“Lord Phantom” 

Danny took his earbuds out and wrinkled his nose at the formality.

“Come on Nell. When are you gonna start calling me Danny?” 

Nell smiled and gestured into their office. “It’s called professionalism Phantom, if I started calling you by your nickname people might start to think I like you.” 

“Ah but everyone already knows I’m your favorite.” Danny retorted, sitting in the wide cushioned chair across from Nell’s. “So, what’s up?” 

Nell sighed, pulling a thick folder out of the desk.

“I heard a rumor you’re going to Gotham?” 

Danny groaned dramatically.

“Don’t remind me. Vlad is sponsoring my parents ghost hunting expedition to Bialya this summer and convinced Dad that it will be a good ‘opportunity to network’ for me.” He complained using his most haughty voice to imitate Vlad's words. “It’s going to be like four straight weeks of dumb rich people parties, and I don’t know, champagne?” 

“I guess it’s a good thing I have a job for you while you’re there.” Nell responded, sliding the file across the desk to Danny. 

At first Danny was just confused.

“Nell … There's like a hundred names here.” 

Nell leaned back, a serious expression on their face.

“One hundred and thirty-three that we know of. Gotham is a breeding ground for violence and traumatic events. The ectoplasm is so corrupted from all the negative emotion that I haven’t been able to send anyone in yet.” 

Danny glanced down at the list. One hundred and thirty-three deaths that were so traumatic that at the very least the victims’ emotions were so strong they left an imprint of themselves if not more behind. It wasn’t going to be an easy job. 

 He wanted to say no. He wanted to tell Nell he was too busy and to send someone else. 

“Yeah. I’ll do it.” 

Nell’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Thanks Danny, let me know if there’s anything you need. I really appreciate this.” They ran their hand through their hair. 

“I’m gonna go see if Melly has anything on Gotham.” Danny mumbled, already making notes in the margins.

Melony had the equivalent of a small library on Gotham it turned out. Apparently being a hotspot for ghost creations would do that to a place. She cast him a pitying look as she settled back behind her desk. 

There were lots of regular things like newspapers, magazine articles and travel blogs but the Labyrinth also had classified timelines, last memories, and deathbed confessions which could only be accessed with authorization. Authorization that Danny had because of his rank in Dora’s court and assignment to the case in Gotham. 

By the time Danny was slipping through the ghost portal in his parents’ basement, he was ready to close his eyes and go to sleep right there. But he couldn’t because he had to go to stupid Vlad's house in stupid Wisconsin. Vlad had offered to let Danny use his portal while he was staying there but the last thing Danny wanted was to owe Vlad anything. Now that he was facing the flight, using Vlad’s didn’t sound too bad. 

He chatted with Sam and Tucker over the flight on Discord. Sam was invited to the same parties as Vlad, well her parents were invited but it was basically the same thing. She promised to tag along to some of them while Danny was in Gotham. 

“Maybe it will shock my mom to death if I go to one of those voluntarily.” Sam explained. 

Danny knew that she was doing it to keep him company though. 

“Hey, if you meet Bruce Wayne ask him how the WayneTech R&D team plans to fix the software bug in the-“ 

“Tucker!” Sam interrupted “we can’t ask Bruce Wayne that. Besides he doesn’t even work for the company anymore, one of his kids runs everything.” 

“Right!” Tucker exclaimed excitedly, “Timothy Drake-Wayne. Everyone thought he would take over Drake industries when he was an adult but one day Tim just folded the company, walked straight into WE and announced that he had taken over Bruce’s stocks. Then while all of the board members were freaking out, he put his skateboard on BRUCE WAYNES desk, sat in Bruce’s chair and started working. It was huge in the media, all the old white guys with stocks started throwing a fit about how he was under qualified and unprofessional blah blah blah. But THEN it became really obvious really quick that Tim isn’t just a competent CEO he’s a fucking great CEO and-“ 

“Tucker!” Sam tried again, “I know you have a tiny hard on for Wayne Tech-“ 

“Hey!” 

“Which is totally fine,” Sam continued “but you’ve already told us the saga of Tim Wayne three times since Vlad told Danny about going to Gotham.” 

“Oh, like Danny and me don’t listen to you talk about how much you love Michelle Obama once a week.” Tucker retorted in a sarcastic tone. 

“Michelle Obama is a goddess and deserves some goddamn recognition!” 

“Hey guys as much as I love the repeat of Freshman year meatapalooza,” Danny interjected, “I made it to Vlad’s. I should go inside and try to get some sleep.” It was only nine thirty, but he had left before dawn and spent a good portion of the day flying both in the living world and the ghost zone. 

“Yeah, let us know when you get to Gotham.” Sam instructed. 

Danny snorted. “I think I’m safer traveling than in Gotham. It has the highest crime rate in the world.” 

“Good point.” Tucker agreed, “you should text us at least once every hour while you’re there.” 

“Forty-five minutes.” Sam corrected. “You forgot to account for Danny’s terrible luck.” 

“Better make it thirty.” Tucker said. “Just to be safe.” 

“Whatever. I hate you both.” Danny responded without any real venom. 

“We love you too!” They chorused. 

He was already yearning for the trip to Gotham to be over. Just four short weeks and he would be back in Amity. Maybe he could get Dora to give him a few weeks off, she was always nagging him to work less. A relaxing staycation might be welcome after the corrupted mess that was Gotham. 

Danny turned himself intangible, walking right through Vlad’s front door. He didn’t bother to greet Vlad or even walk all the way to the guest room that was his when he stayed over. He just floated in a straight line through whatever was in his way. 

The last thing he wanted was to talk to Vlad right now. 

He wanted to collapse in bed and sleep until noon. Maybe later. 

Unfortunately, there was a surprise waiting for him. A glowing green post it note was sticking to his pillow. 

Clockwork. 

He just had to choose now of all times to send one of his cryptic messages. Danny thought about tossing it out. But then, Clockwork usually didn’t bother him directly unless it was important. 

You may want to appear completely human tonight. 

Clockwork had given him this advice before. Five months ago, when the GIW was canvassing Amity with close range ecto scanners. 

Shit. 

If the GIW was back at it again he’d need to neutralize his powers and help round up the specters that would get hurt if they were found. But Danny wasn’t in Amity and the GIW shouldn’t be here in Wisconsin. 

Clockwork’s notes were rarely straightforward. 

Danny pulled the neutralizer he had stolen off Vlad, a newer version of the taser like weapon Vlad used to neutralize his powers before. Danny had only used it a handful of times on himself, frostbite warned him that it would be less effective each time he used it which was good because it meant that Vlad wouldn’t have a way to neutralize his powers one day but also bad because if he turned into Dan the Justice League would have no way of stopping him. Just looking at it made his heart race. It was something like one hundred thousand times smaller than the shock that he got in his accident but even the idea of small electric shocks made him feel a little sick to his stomach. 

After neutralizing his powers Danny glanced at his bed and sighed. If today was going to get worse he should probably take a shower and wake up a little instead of sleeping, also he was covered in sweat. 

He knew he needed to be fast, but he couldn’t help but linger a little under the spray. Vlad might be a fruit loop, but he had great water pressure.

Chapter Text

“And then he had the audacity to tell me that I am emotionally unavailable.” 

“No!” 

“Yeah! Like what a fucking Jerkwad.” Brown made a despondent noise and Damian thought for one glorious moment that she was done. 

Then of course Gordon had to go and be empathetic. “I think I got the same exact talk the last time I tried dating a civilian.” 

Damian tried to tune them out and focus on his patrol. He’d expected Brown to be her usual annoying self when he saw they were scheduled for patrol, but this was too much. 

“I just don’t get it! I’m like the most emotionally available person on the planet!” 

Gordon snorted over the comm line. “Let me guess, you missed one too many dates chasing down Two Face?” 

The familiar clangs and grunts of a back-alley brawl interrupted the inane chatter. 

Damian peeked over the edge of the building, assessing the situation. Four men surrounded a trembling child while another held onto the wrist of a young woman, his mother perhaps. 

“Robin, responding to a disturbance downtown.” Damian moved quietly, using his grapple to dramatically drop down into the middle of the fight. 

“Batgirl, assisting.” Brown added over the secure line, dropping to the concrete ground next to him. 

Damian barely looked at her, occupied as he was kicking kneecaps and throwing elbows into the faces of his enemies. He would take a good fight over listening to the girls talk about feelings any day. In fact, he would take a good fight over most things. 

He ducked under a swinging fist, using his foot to sweep the man's leg. He springboarded off a nearby dumpster and-  In the blink of an eye everything changed. 

Damian was so shocked by the change of scenery and the hot water that was spraying him in the face that he slipped on the slick floor, hitting his elbow on the wall as he fell. 

He was in a shower. Not his shower at home or the one in the Batcave. He was in a stranger’s shower and he was naked. 

No. 

He wasn’t naked. That wasn’t him. 

He was in someone else’s body. Presumably the owner of the shower as well. 

Damian turned off the water, grabbing a fluffy white towel from the rod by the shower. With the sound of the water gone, he could hear what sounded like rock music quietly echoing off the tile. 

This must be his soulmate. He had less than thirty minutes before they would switch back. He needed to focus. With a deep breath Damian wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out onto the cool tile. He marched determinedly to the mirror and swiped his hand across the condensated surface in a smooth motion. 

Damian was ready for a stranger's face to be staring back at him, but he wasn’t ready for it to be so attractive. Fine black hair that was already starting to dry and curl around his forehead framed wide icy blue eyes. 

Damian leaned back. The stranger, his soulmate, was smaller than him. Probably around 5 '6 to 5' 7 it was hard to gauge without his own body to compare. He was slim but more muscular than Damian would have expected for a civilian. 

His eyes were drawn to the Lichtenberg scar that branched from his chest over one shoulder and down part of one bicep. Damian flexed the arm watching as the shiny skin went taut. Was his soulmate struck by lightning? Weren’t those scars supposed to fade? It didn’t seem to hurt at all. 

The phone on the counter stopped playing music momentarily as a notification went through. Damian looked at the lock screen. He couldn’t be sure of the exact time, but it had been after eleven when they switched, about thirty minutes into patrol. 

Patrol. 

If he was here, then his soulmate was on patrol. As Robin. In Gotham. 

No. He couldn’t think about that. Not right now. There wasn’t anything he could do about it. Right now, he needed to figure out who his soulmate was and if he was a security risk. And to do that he needed pants. 

The clock on the lock screen of the phone read ten fourteen. He must have switched time zones. Probably Central America but it could be Canada or Mexico too. He had to assume that they would switch back sometime around ten thirty at the earliest, ten forty-two at the very latest. 

It took Damian only a few moments to find a pair of mostly clean sweatpants in the laundry hamper and pull them on, trying desperately to keep himself from blushing. Then he was pulling open the door and stepping into a sparsely decorated room. 

Damian had noticed how impersonal the bathroom looked, but assumed it was a shared space now he was re-evaluating that assumption. This looked more like a guest room. A nice guest room with a queen-sized bed, a desk, and an en-suite bathroom but a guest room, nonetheless. He poked around the closet and dressers, half full as expected. 

He spotted a gray backpack covered in space patches and puns by the desk. He opened it, sifting through the clutter inside. Thermos, bracelet, laptop, sour gummy worms. Damian kept looking, he needed a wallet or an ID or even a piece of homework with a name on it. He thought about looking through the laptop but that seemed too far. And he might not have enough time to hack something with a password. Phone charger, dog treats, earbuds. Damnit. 

Finally, he found something. A hoodie with a name written on the tag. Sam M. That was it. A first name and a last initial. What kind of detective was he? Damian glanced at the door. It would be safer to stay in the room where there was no one to observe him but there might be clues somewhere else. He pulled on a shirt from the floor and opened the door. 

The hallway was a vivid contrast to the impersonal inoffensive guest room. The walls were dark green and covered in Green Bay Packers memorabilia of all things. It took a moment for that to process in his brain. 

“Danny? Is that you?” A voice called out from the partially open door across the hall. 

Damian froze. On one hand the owner of that voice could be a cornucopia of information. But there were also plenty of opportunities to give himself up. 

In theory he could just tell them that he was whoever-this-body-belongs-to’s soulmate. People did it all the time. Walk right up to one of their parents and introduce themselves. Or tell a friend they were with who they were. Even writing notes with their phone number or social media handle for their soulmate to find. But being Robin when they switched made things more difficult. He couldn’t afford to answer any questions anyone might have. 

“Danny?” The voice interrupted his silent debate and a young woman peered out at him “did you hear me? I was hoping we could talk before I leave?” She had bright auburn hair and was gazing at him almost paternally? 

“Ummm” Damian got out inelegantly. No, he did not want to talk to her. He recognized that look. It was the same one Richard gave him before talking about feelings. 

Her face was quickly morphing into a look of concern. 

“No!” Damian blurted. “Sorry, it’s just-“ he took a deep breath trying to find something to say. “I had something I needed to do.” 

She still looked confused, but she hadn’t realized she wasn’t this Danny guy yet. 

Damian kept going. “I was going to do something really important, but I forgot as soon as I opened the door.” It was a sentiment he heard from his brothers every once in a while (mostly Drake.) 

The woman snorted.

“Of course you did.” It sounded almost like a rebuke except her voice was too soft, too fond. She was clearly in a combination parent and older sibling role. “Cujo?” She asked. 

Damian just stared at her for a moment before he realized it was a suggestion. “No.” 

“Do you have everything packed? For Gotham? I know you usually wait until the last moment to pack but-“ she cut herself off, “No. You were headed out of your room. Are you hungry? Did you leave something in the zone? Maybe you needed to talk to Vlad?” 

“Yes.” Damian latched onto the suggestion. Anything to escape. This woman clearly knew Danny very well and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep her from figuring him out. “That’s it. I was going to talk to Vlad. Do you know where he is?” 

The concerned look came over her face again for just a moment.

“Yeah, he’s in his study I think. Danny, are you sure you’re feeling alright?” 

“Yes. I am feeling fine. I should go.” Damian responded, trying his best to look casual. He turned down the hall, luckily the room he had just come out of was at the end of the hall so there was only one direction to go. 

“Come back and talk to me when you’re done!” The woman called out to him, already turning back to whatever, she was doing before. 

Damian looked at the phone in his pocket. Ten twenty-eight. He could switch back at any moment now. He continued down the hallway to a staircase. It was grand and sweeping like the main staircase in the manor. Whoever owned the house should be easy to track down. He looked out a window, the landscape was covered with a thick forest. 

It was fine. Everything was fine. 

oOo 

It was pure instinct that allowed Danny to follow through with the flipping kick combo his new body had been aiming when they switched. Unfortunately, instinct failed to help him dodge the two inch diameter steel pipe one of the goons aimed at his head. 

A figure wearing a violent array of purples kicked the goon just before the blow landed, redirecting it onto his arm. It took a moment before Danny felt the sting of pain. 

Less than a minute into the switch and he was already getting his soulmate's body injured. 

Why was his soulmate fighting in some dirty alley? 

“Robin! Are you okay?” 

Danny blinked at the purple masked vigilante. Spoiler. 

No. Absolutely not. 

This couldn't be happening. 

His soulmate could not be Robin. 

“Rob?” Spoiler asked again, more concerned this time. “Did he get you in the head? I didn't see…” She trailed off. 

“He took a hit across his left forearm.” A distorted voice reported in Danny’s ear. 

Judging by the way Spoiler cocked her head she was on the same comm channel. It was a good thing Danny was so used to wearing his own comm during patrols, it could have been bad if he jumped at the noise. 

“I'm fine.” Danny responded shortly. The current Robin was known for being more brusque than his predecessors. Danny didn't exactly follow the Gotham vigilantes in the news the way some people did, but it was impossible to avoid all information on the Bat Clan. 

Spoiler gave him a hard look but was interrupted by a soft click over the comm. 

“I’ve got a possible sighting of Scarecrow at the docks.” Oracle's voice echoed slightly.

Danny found out the reason for the change when another voice sounded. 

“Red Robin responding as backup. I'm uptown though so I'm at least thirty minutes out.” 

“Oracle, who’s the closest?” And Holy fuck that was Batman’s gravelly voice. 

They must have switched everyone over to a group wide channel. 

“Nightwing was near Grant Park-“

“I’m approaching the docks now.” A smooth voice interrupted, “Switching to closed comms.” There was a faint click. 

“You're the next closest B, then Spoiler and Rob, then double R.” Oracle explained.

“Red Robin, standby.” Batman ordered. “Do a loop midtown and keep an eye out for anything unusual. Robin and Spoiler, continue your patrol. We don't know that Crane has anything planned tonight and I don't want to miss something else because we were all distracted.”

It took Danny a minute to figure out the grappling hook gun, but it was easier than it should have been. Muscle memory was probably responsible, ghosts experienced a similar phenomenon when overshadowing humans. Arcing through the air on the grapple line wasn't quite as fun as flying, but it was thrilling all the same. 

He couldn't tell any of the Bats he wasn't Robin. It would look too suspicious to the vigilantes; besides he didn't really want to answer any questions they might have and he definitely didn't want to talk to Batman or the Justice League. 

Danny stayed quiet as Spoiler and Oracle launched into the middle of a conversation about dating. Relying heavily on his limited amount of information Danny decided Robin probably wouldn’t interject, so it was best if he stayed silent as well. 

“Maybe it’s time to give up dating civilians.” Spoiler sighed despondently, and Danny was forced to smother the grin that threatened his face. 

Oracle just snorted in response. 

“No really! I mean it.” 

“That brings your dating pool down to like two people.” Oracle’s voice was accompanied by the sound of a keyboard as they multitasked. “And you’ve already dated one of them.”

“Who is the other?” 

Oracle was silent and Danny thought they’d gotten distracted with one of the other bats but then they sighed. 

“If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you.” 

“Pleeeaassee” Spoiler whined, dragging the word out. 

Their banter was comfortable and reminded Danny of his own team. He hadn’t realized how much he missed doing patrols with his best friends. Since Dora took over as Queen of the Infinite Realms the attacks on Amity Park had petered out. Anything that was big enough for the royal guards to request his help was usually too dangerous for Sam and Tucker. That's not to say they weren’t involved; they were both just as supportive as ever and perfectly willing to help out however they could. Ghost hunting just wasn’t a big part of their lives anymore. 

Ghosts would always be a part of Danny's life-  afterlife? Would Robin be okay with that? Danny wasn’t exactly a baggage free soulmate. 

It would be fine. Robin was his soulmate, his perfect match. The whole ghost thing might be a little weird, but Gotham was insane and Robin dealt with that every day. 

Okay so maybe being a dead half ghost sometimes vigilante was more than a little weird. He would have to be the ideal soulmate to make up for it. Starting with their introduction. If everything went perfectly then maybe Robin would overlook the whole dead thing. 

With a little help from his ghost powers Danny could make sure they had the perfect storybook meet cute. He couldn't be sure when they would meet of course, it could be any time in the next thirty days. After their first meeting Fate would continue to pull them together until they either fell in love or started actively avoiding one another. 

Would they be one of those pairs that gave up on falling in love? Some couples decided to ignore Fate. Did Robin even want a soulmate? Not everyone did. 

Danny followed Spoiler, barely paying attention to the patrol as focused as he was on his inner turmoil. Which was unfortunate because patrolling with one of the Bats was definitely in the top ten coolest things he’d ever done. 

Sam had been begging him to let her help him pack for Gotham for weeks. She thought it was the perfect opportunity to revamp his wardrobe. His style had been leaning more goth for the last few years, ever since he’d let Sam and Val dress him up like a doll for a ska concert and found out he liked how he looked in the dark aesthetic. Maybe he should let her give him some advice on his clothes for the trip. First impressions were important after all, and he couldn't afford to disappoint Robin. 

He would just have to make sure he was ready every moment of every day during his trip to Gotham. How hard could it be? They already switched places at the most inconvenient time possible. It’s not like Fate could expose either of them anymore than she already had.

Right?

Chapter Text

Reviewing his mask footage after patrol was one part amazing and two parts disturbing. It was amazing because Danny had been a nearly flawless replacement. If Damian didn’t know they had switched even, he might have believed it was him on the screen. Danny was strong and fast. It was amazing. 

It was wrong. 

Danny was a civilian. He shouldn't be able to do the things Robin did. Even with the advantage of Damian’s flexibility and strength he should have been discovered by the other Bats. 

Except he wasn’t. While Damian was busy blushing, looking for pants and stuttering out half assed explanations, Danny had been easily impersonating Robin. 

Something about his family not noticing he was gone made Damian feel unpleasant. Danny’s (presumed) sister had known something was wrong with him almost immediately even if she hadn’t realized they switched.  

Damian sat at his laptop and began a list of things he knew from the switch. Male, between 5’5 and 5’8, black hair, blue eyes, between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. That description only fits about a million people. 

The girl from the hallway had mentioned a trip to Gotham. Considering the timing it was more than likely they would meet on this trip. He likes space and rock music. 

He almost backspaced after the last entry. Danny’s hobbies and preferences weren’t likely to be relevant in his search, but he decided to keep them on the list. After spending years wondering about his soulmate, any information seemed vital. 

The house was likely owned by the “Vlad” character. It was located in the northern hemisphere, central daylight time, likely in midwestern America based on the football memorabilia. 

It was easy for Damian to find Vladimir “Vlad” Masters. All he had to do was automate a search through the Assessor's office records for every county in the right time zone to flag any property worth more than three million US dollars owned by anyone with Vlad in their name. Of course there are a few counties where the Assessor’s office still keeps those records as paper copies, but it would have been easy for Damian to simply walk into any of those offices and ask for the public records. It wasn’t even illegal! Luckily that hadn’t been needed. Damian recognized the house immediately after looking up the address. According to Zillow, which still had the inactive listing from six years ago, it used to be a castle owned by a dairy tycoon? 

From there it only took him a little while to find Danny. 

Masters didn’t have any children, and judging by the state of Danny’s room it wasn’t his permanent residence. In fact, Masters didn’t have any family at all. He was an only child, his parents died in a car accident shortly after he started college, and he had never been married. He was a fairly public figure but had rarely if ever been photographed with a date. He made his money through a weapons manufacturing and aeronautics company. It had gone through an unexpected boom about ten years ago that Batman had investigated so their system loaded the records automatically. He definitely had a few red flags. He had been a part of a few shady business deals with people like Luther and Damian’s grandfather Ra's Al Ghul. There was a suspicious lab accident in college that had rendered an entire wing of the science building contaminated for nearly a year while the government sent teams to clean it up. In the end they could never find any real evidence of foul play beyond a few CEOs making terrible business deals.

In addition to the Cheese Castle, Masters also owned a mansion in Amity Park Illinois where he was the former mayor. The only thing about Masters' time as mayor that Damian could find was the official campaign website which was still up. It had a bland statement about how Masters moved to Amity Park to be closer to his godchildren and felt called to public service. Now that he has retired from politics, Masters seems to be working on social climbing. 

Luckily even private planes had to submit manifests before a journey. Masters had a flight from Wisconsin to Gotham scheduled for eleven am Monday morning. There, under the passenger list, Damian finally found him. 

Daniel James Fenton. 

This had to be him. Damian ran a background search and pulled up the photo from his driver's license to confirm and familiar icy blue eyes stared at him through the screen. Daniel was smiling widely at the camera, looking for all the world like a completely ordinary sixteen-year-old who was excited to get their license for the first time. 

Damian scrolled through the rest of the information that came up in fascination. 

Daniel was sixteen years old, turning seventeen in just a few weeks, which made him barely older than Damian. His parents were scientists, although most of their work was hidden behind confidentiality agreements. Daniel was a student at Casper High School in Amity Park and had been since freshman year. In fact he was in the same school district now as he had been in since starting Kindergarten.

Damian took a moment to glance through the school photos that spanned that timeframe. For research. No other reason. 

Daniel appeared to be a completely ordinary, happy child that grew into a completely ordinary young man. He had a small social media presence that was mostly pictures of the night sky and group photos with a few recurring teens Damian inferred were his friends. He was smart too. Daniel went to space camp six years in a row as a child and was on the fast track to Nasa before an injury disqualified him from the program at fourteen. Was that the same injury that caused the scarring on his arm?

A shaky video posted on a classmate’s web page showed a very public shouting match between the former Mayor and Daniel in what looked like a greasier midwestern version of Batburger. (Was that even possible? Batburger was known for their excess grease.) The audio wasn’t good, and it picked up the whispering voices of the spectators more than the actual argument but it was enough that Damian could tell Daniel was furious. It was likely that Daniel and his Godfather weren’t close, or at least they hadn't been when he was the Mayor. So, Daniel likely knew little to nothing about any crimes Masters may or may not have committed. 

The light from the screen was starting to make Damian’s eyes burn and when he yawned they filled with moisture so he was forced to retrieve a handkerchief. It was late- or early technically, and he was surprised to find he had been researching Daniel for more than four hours. He only had a few more before the manor would be filled with the chaos of half a dozen vigilantes fighting over breakfast. (Pennyworth did his best to control them of course but they were a difficult group for even his management.) 

Daniel was coming with his godfather for a visit in Gotham. Maybe they would come into contact at some formal event or bump into each other in the street. No matter how hard either of them tried they would meet each other sometime in the next twenty-nine days. 

It was common knowledge that the switch always occurred less than thirty days before a pair of soulmates met face to face. Damian knew from his studies that it was most common for people to meet their soulmate on day seventeen and eighteen although there were plenty of cases that occurred earlier and later in the thirty-day timeline. 

The record for earliest meeting between soulmates after the switch was between Lady Cecilia Laufferson and her soulmate Edward Ballneg- Laufferson when they literally ran into each other in a monastery stable a mere six hours after the switch. That one had been considered quite scandalous at the time due to Edward’s position as a priory servant, but even in the seventeenth century it was considered bad taste (and even sacrilege in some areas) to keep soulmates apart. The whole affair was witnessed by the Archdeacon, who happened to be passing through the area at the time, even the couple’s soulmarks which were often kept private in those days bloomed on their exposed skin. With no way to deny the legitimacy of their soul bond the Baroness’ were forced to publicly approve their daughter’s nuptials and the two were wed long before the thirty days had elapsed. 

Not all soulmates were as lucky. Such as in the late nineteen eighties when Henry Miller didn’t meet his two soulmates until day twenty-eight despite going on a month-long, heavily televised road trip in the hopes of finding them. The whole country celebrated when all three of them met. Henry was ironically enough, attempting to drown out his sorrows at a rundown hotel bar when both his soulmates entered through opposite sides of the room simultaneously. 

Not every soulmate story ended happily of course. Marriages were sometimes disrupted after years of happiness when one of them switched with their soulmate later in life. Businessmen and women rejected their soulmates in favor of their careers and vain teenagers spurned theirs when the real person did not meet the fantasy they’d concocted. 

Then there were the missed connections, people who either never found the identity of their soulmate or found out too late. One woman in England had found herself unable to communicate with her soulmate’s family during the switch due to a language barrier, when her soulmark finally bloomed she was in a crowded airport and late for an international flight. Assuming fate would pull them together at a later date she had boarded her plane anyway. She later discovered her soulmate had been so shocked by his soulmark blooming that he spilled his coffee all over himself and fell down a flight of stairs while distracted by the stain. He died before emergency services even arrived at the airport. 

Maybe it would be better for Daniel if he never discovered Damian’s identity. Daniel would have his pick of suitors if he were so inclined and wouldn't have to deal with the dangerous reality that was dating a vigilante. He would probably be disappointed when he left Gotham without finding out the identity of his soulmate, but he would heal and move on. 

Damian wouldn’t. Losing Daniel would be like a broken bone that didn't set properly. It would be a dull ache that never went away, offering a limited range of motion despite never having any pain before the break. 

Sure, he could live with it. But Damian was selfish. 

No, Damian wouldn’t give up on Daniel. He would use the trip to Gotham as an opportunity to woo his soulmate. If Daniel rejected him then he would back off, but while he still had a chance, he was going to make the most of it. 

Mind made up, Damian turned off his laptop and rubbed his eyes. He could hear someone moving around downstairs and knew his peace would be disturbed sooner rather than later. He slipped out of his bedroom and down the hallway towards his father’s study. 

Damian had never spoken with his father about soulmates. Father seemed supportive of Richard’s relationship with his soulmate, but Damian had still been in Nanda Parbat with Mother when they met so he couldn’t be sure. Telling his father about the switch would have been difficult enough, but with it happening during patrol and Damian waiting to talk about it… 

“Father?” 

“Damian, come in. I was just looking through the expenses for last quarter…” he trailed off still looking at the folder with a slight frown. 

“I have a confession to make, Father.” Damian began. 

The effect on his father was instantaneous. Bruce sat up, sliding the folder physically away from his body. The tired expression was replaced by a carefully guarded one that was no doubt the result of spectacularly failing to provide adequate emotional support to his children in the past. Somehow the care that his father went through to listen to him made Damian even more anxious.

“Damian?” Father questioned after he remained motionless for a moment. “Whatever it is- I-” his words were broken and jumbled as if he couldn't find the ones he wanted. “That is- We-”

Listening to his father stumble over the words was pathetic. It was embarrassing. It made his face feel hot and his heart race in a way that he couldn't describe. 

“Father, it seems prudent to inform you that I will be coming into contact with my soulmate sometime in the next twenty nine days.” Damian interrupted. There. Calm, collected, expressionless, short and to the point. 

If it weren’t so serious or if he had been one of his brothers in this situation Damian might have laughed out loud at the look of shock that overcame his father’s face. It was likely that his father was expecting Damian to confess to some violent behavior as he had in the past. The idea of his youngest son meeting his soulmate was probably the last thing he had expected. Even though everyone had a soulmate, only about sixty two percent of people came into contact with them. Considering Damian's distaste for meeting new people it wasn’t an unfair assumption that he might never meet the one person in the universe that was his perfect match. 

“I see.” Father replied evenly. “So, you switched then? Do you know who they are?” 

“Yes.” Damian paused. This was the part he was the most nervous about. “Last night while on patrol. I’ve already gone through the footage; it appears although neither Brown nor Gordon noticed at the time, they also did not mention anything that threatens our security. I have begun compiling data on them and have a confirmed identity.” Damian explained like he was giving a report to Batman, which he kind of was. 

“Do you need backup?” Although his father was still in his house slippers, Damian could feel the shift from Bruce to Batman. 

“Not at this time.” He responded. 

“Damian,” He began “I understand this must be very difficult for you and no one would blame you if you would prefer someone else take the lead on this-“ 

“No!” Damian Interrupted. The last thing he wanted was for his brothers to find out. Besides, for some reason the idea of letting someone else look into Daniel made him feel unpleasant. “Thank you for your concern, however it isn’t necessary. The evidence I have examined thus far does not lead me to believe they are a security risk at this time. I will let you know if I find anything concerning.” 

“They know you’re Robin.” Father stated calmly. 

“No.” Damian disagreed, trying to match his father’s tone. “They know that their soulmate is Robin.”

“If you meet them as Damian Wayne-” He didn't end the sentence, he didn't need to. 

Daniel knew his soulmate was Robin. If he met Damian Wayne for the first time instead, he would know Damian’s secret identity the moment their soulmarks bloomed. 

“I will simply refrain from public gatherings until we have met.” If Damian only went out as Robin, he wouldn't have an opportunity to meet anyone new in his civilian persona. 

“The annual Gala-” Father began before Damian interrupted him yet again. 

“Is nearly four weeks away. It is likely we will meet long before it becomes an issue.”

“Okay then.” Father paused again, visibly searching for the right words. “There is a meeting at the Watchtower this evening.”

Damian knew that of course. He had been planning on attending, any information could be invaluable to a vigilante. 

“If you would like me to speak to Clark about having Jonathan visit for a couple of weeks, I can certainly arrange it.” Father continued. 

“That is also unnecessary. I am neither injured nor too busy for my duties as Robin. Besides, Kent is not familiar enough with Gotham to effectively assist in any meaningful way.” Damian was hurt by how fast his father had thought to replace him. 

“I wasn’t trying to suggest that you are incapable of performing your vigilante duties Damian.” Father clarified. “I meant that Jonathan could provide emotional support during this transitional period.”

Emotional support? 

“I suppose if you believe it is necessary.” Damian allowed. “Although I don’t see why Grayson or Drake cannot comfort you.” 

Damian had long complained about his father’s propensity for picking up strays. Jonathan wouldn’t make the worst new addition to their team though, as long as he didn’t think of replacing Damian as Robin of course. They would have to find a new alter ego for him, preferably bird themed if possible. Sparrow maybe? Or Finch?

“No, Damian. Emotional support for you. As a frien- peer.” An amused smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

For him? 

Damian pursed his lips, giving his father a look . 

He thought that Damian needed emotional support? 

Damian al Ghul- Wayne. Also known as Robin? Ibn al Xu'ffasch? The Demon’s Heir? Father thought that he needed emotional support?

His skepticism must have shown on his face because his father backtracked immediately. 

“It was only a suggestion.”

“A poorly thought through suggestion at that.” Damian spat. 

He wasn't some child who needed his hand held. He was a trained assassin, a successful vigilante. 

“Of course. I apologize if I hurt your feelings.”

Hurt his feelings! First Father believed he needed emotional support and now he thought that Damian was having feelings! As if anyone was capable of compromising his emotional wellbeing. It was a ludicrous idea.  

“Look, Damian- Son, I know you’re getting older and your body is going through some changes-“ 

Damian froze. This wasn’t happening. This could not be happening. 

“It’s completely normal to start having certain… urges-“ 

Maybe the talk about emotional support wasn’t that bad. 

Just as Damian couldn’t bear it anymore a loud crashing noise came from downstairs. The indistinct noise of arguing and laughter came immediately after. No one was hurt, Richard was probably “breaking in” their newest chandelier. 

Father stood, and for a moment Damian thought he saw his own relief echoed across Bruce’s face. “I should go keep them from burning the manor down.” 

Damian let himself relax for a moment. He would have to find some way to thank his siblings for the distraction. Richard had already given him the sex talk soon after Damian had moved to Gotham, not that it had been needed. His education in Nanda Parbat had covered many things including reproduction and sexual intercourse.

For now, though Damian had some affairs to put in order before Daniel arrived in Gotham.  Luckily school was already dismissed for the summer vacation. Still, he’d need to call the animal shelter and reschedule some of his volunteer hours for the next few weeks. Then he would take Titus to the pet store; he was almost out of his favorite treats, and it might be a while before he could go out as a civilian again. While they were out he would take Titus to the park, it was good for him to be around other dogs and people sometimes. Afterwards Damian needed to stop by a specialty art store to pick up some paints and a new sketchbook. He wouldn’t have time for much else if he was still going to make the meeting at the Watchtower.

Maybe he should contact Jonathan beforehand. Jonathan didn’t have any more dating experience than Damian, but he was well liked amongst their peers and could potentially have some advice for befriending civilians their age. 

Damian unlocked his phone and clicked on his best friend's contact. 

“Kent. I require your assistance.” 

Chapter Text

In Danny’s defense it had been a long day. Sure, he might have done and said some really dumb things but that wasn’t really his fault.

When Danny switched back into his own body, he found himself perched on top of the shiny stainless-steel refrigerator in Vlad’s kitchen like some sort of bird. Which shocked him enough to send him toppling off and into a heap on the floor.

Then Jazz rounded the corner with an ecto blaster. Apparently, Robin ran into her while they were switched. Jazz had assumed he was possessed again and tailed him while he was wandering around the mansion.

Danny ended up having to explain the whole thing to her.

Instead of being excited for him like he’d expected, Jazz pursed her lips.

Danny knew that look of course.

“But Danny, he’s Robin.”

“Yeah. So?” Danny asked, more defensively than he meant.

“Well.” Jazz began, treading carefully. “Robin means Batman too. They’re a package deal.”

Batman was a triple strike on the con list. He was a member of the Justice League, which was enough in Danny’s book to stay away from the man forever. Danny didn’t hate the heroes exactly, but he had plenty of personal reasons to avoid them.

But Batman was so cool.

Strike two, Batman was considered persona non grata around the Ghost Zone nowadays, especially in the hot spots. It could cause problems if anyone found out that he was hanging around him.

But Batman was Robins dad (Probably?)

Strike three, of course, Batman hates metas. Danny was basically a meta because of his powers and shit. It was common knowledge that the Dark Knight doesn’t like anyone with powers in Gotham, not even Superman or other members of the Justice League.

But Jazz was right. Batman and Robin were a package deal.

“Look Jazz, I’m not going to judge the man until I meet him- No really!” Danny giggled as his sister made a face. “Robin is my soulmate, Jazz. He’s mine. I want to make this work. If that means I have to give Batman a chance I will,” He finished earnestly.

Jazz raised one perfectly slanted eyebrow in response and Danny was forced to retaliate by sticking his tongue out at her (In a very mature and dignified way.)

“I’ll do anything. I swear to the Ancients I’ll become best friends with the entire Justice League if that is what it takes!” Danny declared dramatically, only joking a bit.

Jazz snorted and shook her head.

“Whatever you say little brother.”

That was one of Danny’s favorite things about his older sister. She was always there for him, always ready to help him with anything from homework to interdimensional battles. But she also knew how to give him space when he wanted it and (almost) never threw his mistakes back in his face. If he screwed this up, she would still be there for him with a box of tissues and a vice tight hug.

After retreating to his room Danny allowed himself some time to freak out.

No one could blame him. His soulmate was Robin!

Back when Danny still followed superheroes, before Dan, Robin had been his favorite. New heroes popped up often and old ones retired just as frequently so it could be hard to keep up on all of them but there was always a Robin. The current Robin was around his age but had been a vigilante since before Danny was even in Middle School. Back then Tucker and him would watch compilation videos with titles like “Superman’s Top Ten Best Fights” and “The Justice League’s Toughest Take Downs: Ranked!” during their lunch breaks. It was a hobby they picked up again in Highschool, although that was more about teaching himself to fight after the ghosts started invading.

Now Robin was his Soulmate. Danny went on Patrol with the Bats. Robin had been in his body.

Robin had been in his naked body.

Robin had been in his naked body and didn’t even wash the soap out of his hair!

Danny grimaced at the oily, slightly crunchy, texture of dried conditioner. By the time he finished re-showering- seriously what kind of monster just leaves soap in someone else’s’ hair?!- it was past midnight, and he was starving.

The relatively easy mission back to the kitchen to retrieve a bowl of cereal or a quick sandwich was derailed in the form of a whining Cujo. Danny let him out the back door, just like he would on any other night. Instead of coming back when he was done, Cujo must have seen something he wanted to chase because he ran straight for the tree line. Catching him, a task that was annoying on a normal night, was a veritable nightmare without his ghost powers.

By the time he found Cujo in the dark, wrangled him, and got inside the sun was already rising and Danny had an email from Mr. Lancer.

Apparently, it was still technically final term until the teachers went home on Tuesday even though classes ended on Friday and Lancer was going to let Danny retake his English Final on Monday if he could make it in before his flight. That was awesome because Danny had completely bombed it the first time, but sucked because he would have to study all day and go all the way back to Amity tomorrow.

On the bright side studying would conveniently keep his mind off Robin. As much as he wanted to obsess over his soulmate, Danny knew that he was going to make himself anxious if he kept trying to script their first meeting. It was so convenient that Danny might have suspected Clockwork had something to do with arranging it, except he’d been unusually quiet the last few weeks and it wasn’t really his style.

Danny spent all of Sunday studying in his room at Vlad’s, taking small breaks when Jazz reminded him.

Jazz left to go back to Star City around noon. She signed up for summer classes this year and would only be spending a few days in Gotham during the trip. She was hoping to have her bachelor’s degree finished before Danny graduated high school.

When Danny finally laid down for the night, vocab words swimming behind his eyes, he found he barely thought of Robin at all. If he could just keep this up a little while longer, he might have a chance of passing his English Final. Then he could go to Gotham and obsess over Robin in (relative) peace.

It had been a really long day.

Danny was having a weird dream where Lancer was interrogating him on the new Wayne Tech line. He kept yelling at Danny to fix the software bug, but Danny didn’t know anything about it. When he asked for help Tucker said he was too busy hanging out with Tim Wayne. Danny was trying to convince Lancer to give him a different test when he accidently knocked over an antique candelabra and the flames spread across the floor, engulfing the entire classroom with heat instantaneously.

Danny rolled out of bed, landing flat on his back. He groaned and opened his eyes to see real neon green flames. Apparently, his day wasn’t over yet.

A familiar tugging sensation pulled at his chest and the flames grew higher.

Summonings weren’t an unusual occurrence for Danny. Since Dora became Queen and Danny her Fright Knight, he had been answering summonings for her whenever she was busy, which was often. It was a fairly small part of his job, all things considered, but one of the more annoying parts.

The floor under his back disappeared and Danny was falling. He closed his eyes and counted to twenty as the world spun around him. When he opened them again he was assaulted with bright colors and florescent lights.

More than a dozen brightly colored beings were surrounding the circle.

Danny felt a cold tingling sensation and looked down reflexively. A dark inky shape was blooming across his exposed abdomen. As he watched it twisted and stretched until three quarters of a bird with outstretched wings lay across the left side of his lower stomach. The rest was obscured where it stretched over one hip and under the loose drawstring pants he was wearing.

Robin.

Danny sat up and he couldn’t help but smile when his searching eyes found the iconic white out lens’. His soulmate was here! Just a few feet in front of him.

And so was the entire Justice League.

This was not how things were supposed to go.

Okay so maybe it wasn’t the entire Justice League, but it was a lot of them. And they were all looking at Danny. Robin was looking at Danny.

“You couldn’t have waited until after my English test?” The words were out of Danny’s mouth before he could stop them. He was still smiling; he couldn’t help it (It was Robin! His soulmate was here!)

The older heroes were looking at Robin now too. Nightwing in particular was glancing between them like they were playing a riveting tennis match that he didn’t want to miss.

“I’ll be in Gotham in less than twenty-four hours!” Danny continued, getting to his feet. “We could have bumped into each other on the sidewalk, or we could have had a coffee shop meet-cute. Imagine that!” he demanded, pointing a finger at Robin.

This was their first meeting. It was important! It was only the second time Robin had ever seen him and he was half naked. Even his hair was sticking up in all directions like some sort of walk of shame scene in a bad tv show.

“I’ll be a tourist in a strange city and Gotham is supposed to be like the most dangerous city in the world! You could have swooped in like a classic knight in shining armor and saved me from a mugger or something.” Danny continued, barely breathing. “There were so many cute ways this could have gone and you yanked me out of bed in the middle of the night for a wrong number summoning?” He knew he sounded indignant, but that couldn’t be helped.

“Tt. I am not the one to blame for this situation.”

Robins voice was deep and smooth, something in it reminded Danny of a peaceful graveyard. Just the sound gave him goosebumps.

“Wrong number?” Wonder Woman asked, latching on to the information. “What do you mean by that? Who are you?”

Danny took a long moment before reluctantly turning away from Robin’s gaze.

“Well I’m obviously not-“ Danny glanced at the still flaming circle at his feet.

What the fuck?

“Pariah Dark, The Tyrant King of Hell? Why is the Justice League looking for him?”

The room was completely silent.

“That is classified.” Batman growled when no one else spoke. “I am looking forward to an explanation for your presence here however.” He glanced at Robin before turning his attention back to Danny.

Okay, so Batman was clearly not thrilled with this turn of events.

The whole situation was starting to devolve into a disaster.

Fucking Clockwork. Why couldn’t he have warned him?

Probably because he was a giant asshole and enjoyed watching Danny suffer.

Danny forced himself to stay relaxed. The last thing he needed was to show Robin how anxious he was. This was supposed to be perfect and now it was ruined.

Fuck. He was tired.

What would Jazz do?

Danny thought back to everything she had ever said about forming healthy relationships, wishing he paid more attention. Communication and honesty were important, he knew that much. He could do honesty. He looked down at the summoning circle again.

It was for Pariah Dark but-

“This part here-“ Danny pointed towards a cluster of runes. “Names The High King of the Infinite Realms as the being you’re trying to summon. Pariah Dark was deposed years ago.” Danny explained with a shrug. “He’s not around anymore, so you got me instead.”

“Why you?” Someone asked before a familiar figure spoke over the top of them.

“Someone beat Pariah Dark?!”

Danny had never had the displeasure of meeting John Constantine face to face, but he’d heard more than enough to recognize the fractured soul and trench coat. Constantine was a decent enough magician and seemed to be on the right side of things more often than not, but he also had a bad habit of pissing off the dead.

“Yeah. Queen Dorathea took over.” Danny answered, distracted by the pale purple envelope clutched in Constantine’s bone white grip.

It couldn’t be.

“Queen Dorathea.” Constantine whispered, before raising his voice. “Queen Dorathea as in The Dragon of the Abyss? Former Queen of the Draconian Isles? Sister of King Aragon the Bloody?” Constantine confirmed, voice raising by an octave partway through.

“Yep.” Danny agreed nonchalantly, popping the p.

A tall man with dark hair put his hand on Constantine’s shoulder in a consoling gesture and- oh ancients that was Superman.

“And we got you instead because…?” Superman asked, trailing off.

Danny pushed his bottom lip out into a pout.

“You’re acting like you don’t want me here.” When no one rushed to assure him that they did, in fact, enjoy his company Danny sighed, dropping the act. “Queen Dora doesn’t have time to meet petitioners right now. She’s busy ruling the afterlife.”

It was true. The Office of Lost Souls wasn’t the only thing that Pariah neglected during his reign. Basically every branch of the ghostly government was falling apart at the seams. Dora was leading war meetings, sorting through decades of paperwork, hiring staff, arguing with the observants and presiding over disputes. She couldn’t be expected to show up every time a kid’s party accidentally stumbled upon a real summoning ritual.

Danny didn’t love being summoned in Dora’s place, but it was way better than her job, so he tried not to complain about it too much.

“Do you know how we can get into contact with her?” Flash asked, speaking at the same time as Constantine.

“Who are you?”

“Look,” Danny started, addressing Constantine directly. “You want to talk to her about being called to serve in the undead army, right?” he asked, gesturing towards the envelope.

“How do you-“

“She won’t let you out of it.” Danny explained gently.  “I mean maybe if you’d only sold your soul once or twice but-“ Danny ignored the uncomfortable look on Constantine’s face and forged on, “it was right there in the fine print- in the event of a violent dispute, the undersigned agrees to fight on behalf of the crown in whatever capacity is determined to be appropriate for a period no longer than one million earth years according to the sole discretion of the current ruler of the Infinite Realms- you signed that, what forty times?”

“Who are you?” Constantine repeated, his voice hard.

Danny felt a flash of wary-confusion-fear from the magician. That wasn't good.

So, Danny decided to stop messing with him and did the mature thing. He walked right up to Constantine and held a hand out.

“Hi, I’m Danny.”

Chapter Text

Robin had a certain reputation within the masked community. A reputation that was born from the misguided attempts at distinguishment made by a feral prepubescent assassin. That is to say, he was often still seen as a ruthless bloodthirsty child. Damian usually didn’t mind; the wide berth others gave him allowed for a lot more independence than others his age often received. Today, however it also meant that he was “left out of the loop” as his brothers would say.

Maybe if he’d been briefed about the purpose of the summoning ritual beforehand, he wouldn’t have felt so bewildered by his soulmate’s surprise appearance and the accompanying cold itch that spread across his right shoulder. Although judging by the look on Richard and Drake’s faces he might have been more so. Richard looked both confused and delighted (a combination that wasn’t entirely flattering in Damian’s opinion.)

Damian’s first instinct upon seeing Daniel was that there must have been a mistake. Someone must have messed up the ritual. Something was wrong.

Daniel was a civilian.

Perhaps not the most intelligent of civilians, Damian was forced to privately admit as Daniel completely ignored the flaming circle and room of heroes.

Instead, Daniel began to chastise Damian, smiling even as he ranted about coffee shops and sidewalks.

Daniel was smiling at him.

Daniel looked like he had just woken up. He wore a pair of dark colored sleep pants and a thick black skeleton key hung from a cord around his neck. His eyes were bright and animated despite the heavy bags that adorned them.

Damian had known Daniel was attractive. He had noted it first during the switch and again during his research. Damian had not realized how much that attraction would affect him physically until now. His heart thudded too quickly in his chest, and he felt an almost magnetic pull towards Daniel. Damian’s hand itched to fix the messy locks of black hair that stood on end, and he had to force himself to remain still.

Focus.

Daniel thought it was Damian who summoned him. As if he would purposefully pull his soulmate out of bed when he clearly needed the rest.

Damian would never do something so foolish. Even if it weren’t for the health concerns, he would never disrespect his soulmate’s time in that way. Damian had a plan to woo Daniel and this was certainly not a part of it.

What if Daniel decided having a vigilante for a soulmate was too much trouble?

When Daniel finished his tirade Damian assured him that this was not his doing.

Damian let himself fall into the role of an observer as Wonder Woman and then other members of the Justice League began to question why Daniel had been summoned instead of the being they were expecting. He mentally catalogued all of the relevant information for later. Observation was the best way to collect data on any target. (Not that Daniel was a target. He was a civilian after all.)

Daniel could read a summoning circle; he likely had a lot of experience with them. He also knew information about the Infinite Realms and their politics that had not reached Zatanna or Constantine yet.

The image that was being painted in Damian’s mind was not one he liked.

When Daniel walked right through the calf high flames that marked the edge of the summoning circle Damian was forced to abandon his role as an observer and intervene.

“How did you do that?” Constantine demanded, backing away from Daniel’s proffered hand.

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Damian hissed before anyone else spoke.

How dare he speak to Daniel like that. Constantine would regret treating Damian’s soulmate with anything less than the upmost politeness.

Daniel shrugged off the disrespect and answered anyway.

“Summoning circles don’t detain the living.”

“Yeah, and they don’t summon the living either!” Constantine yelled, verging on hysteria.

“He has a heartbeat.” Kent added as if it were even a question. “I can hear it. He’s definitely alive.”

“Of course, he is alive you dolts!” Damian rolled his eyes even though no one else could see it.

How could father bear to surround himself with such idiotic acquaintances?

“Robin.” Batman spoke his name like an order.

Damian looked at his father. After years of working with Batman, Damian could tell exactly what he wanted despite the lack of actual words.

“His name is Daniel Fenton.” Damian answered, before adding, “He’s a civilian.”

“What did you just call me?” Daniel looked startled.

“Daniel Fenton.” Damian repeated. “It’s your name.”

“No, that’s not- well, it’s Danny actually. I mean the venn diagram of people who want to kill me and call me Daniel is basically a circle so really Danny is a lot better.”

Damian’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Someone had attempted to kill Daniel- Danny? (Despite his distaste for nicknames, Damian would not call his soulmate by something he had explicitly expressed being uncomfortable with)

“A circle with another circle inside, a donut maybe?” Danny continued, oblivious to Damian’s panic. “But that’s not the point I-“

“Why would someone try to kill you?” Damian interrupted.

“You’re joking right?” Danny looked around the room for assistance and zeroed in on Drake “Is he-”

“Serious” Drake mouthed back obviously.

Danny opened his mouth and then seemed to think better of it and closed it with an audible snap.

Clearly Danny was not adept at stealthy communication. Damian would have to rectify that as soon as possible. He would have to test Danny’s proficiency in other areas as well. He needed to make sure Danny was trained in combat and first aid as soon as possible, in case something happened while Damian was otherwise occupied.

Perhaps it would be advantageous to procure Cain or Thomas’ assistance with that mission. It would be easier to teach Danny hand-to-hand combat with someone experienced. Damian would have to consider it. Out of all his siblings they were the most likely to exercise any sort of discretion.

Damian was pulled out of his thoughts by a giggle.

“Sorry I-“ Danny slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling a strangled sound that quickly turned into full blown laughter.

Damian felt his cheeks heat.

“What is so humorous?”

“I just-“ Danny tried again before doubling over with laughter. “I thought you knew!”

“Knew what?” Damian demanded.

“You know.” Danny gestured wildly to nothing in particular.

“No. That is precisely why I asked!”

“Boys.” Batman growled, interrupting whatever Danny was going to say next.

“What?” They asked in unison.

Danny crossed his arms across his chest defiantly. He stared down Batman for a moment before taking a deep breath and almost visibly deflating.

“Look, Dora is really busy. If you want I’ll have someone send you the forms to request an audience but-“ Danny shrugged. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

“How exactly are you connected with this Dragon Queen Dorathea?” Batman asked, his voice low and serious.

How dare he use his suspect voice on Damian’s soulmate!

“I work for her.”

Damian could hear the other heroes around them whispering their speculations, but he paid them no mind. It was exactly as he had feared. Without Damian to protect him, Danny had somehow gotten himself involved with the occult. He must have gotten into a desperate situation to resort to selling his soul. Now he was obviously being forced to serve the Queen as some sort of servant or secretary.

“You work for the High Queen of the Infinite Realms?” Batman repeated.

“Yeah.” Danny turned towards Damian. “And I wasn’t kidding about that English Test.” He explained apologetically. “I don’t know what time it is, but I’m supposed to be in Illinois at seven and I’ve got a flight to Gotham out of Wisconsin at eleven.”

Damian nodded. He could see Constantine whispering something into Kent’s ear with a grave expression. If he focused, he could read their lips.

“So how about a rain check on this whole first meeting thing?”

“A rain check?” Damian repeated.

Kent was frowning, it was an uncommon expression on his face.  What did Constantine say to him?

“Yeah, like a do- over.” Danny explained cheerily.

“But we’ve already-“

“So?” Danny interrupted.

Damian gave Danny his full attention, considering the idea. He wasn’t entirely pleased with their first meeting, but he wasn’t exactly disappointed either. It wasn’t the ideal first meeting he had been envisioning, but he didn’t have to worry about his civilian identity anymore. The most unfortunate part of this whole situation was Danny’s disappointment and obvious exhaustion.

“I accept your rain check.”

Danny grinned and for a moment Damian forgot how to breathe.

Then Kent moved towards them.

Damian stepped in front of Danny.

“Yes, I think everyone would benefit from a break.” Kent said politely, his voice barely edging on panic. “Thank you for coming uh- Danny. If you could get someone to send those forms to the Justice League Headquarters, we can get them from there.”

“Sure.” Danny agreed easily. “Do you have any chalk?”

When someone gave him a piece of the chalk they used for the summoning, Danny walked back into the now extinguished circle. He licked one hand and used it to wipe away a section of runes, re-drawing them in a different order.

“See you soon!” Danny waved as green flames erupted from the chalky lines.

Damian raised his hand in farewell.

Danny’s eyes turned bright Lazarus green. Then the flames grew obscuring him from view.

“Did you see that?” Richard murmured, a haunted look on his face.

Damian knew exactly what disturbed his brother.

Danny’s eyes glowed the exact shade of green as Todd’s when he was in the thrall of pit madness.

oOo

Danny arrived in Gotham approximately twelve hours after leaving the watchtower. He couldn’t really remember his English test retake, which was a bad sign. He’d been so tired and anxious; the whole thing was a blur. He barely made it to the airport on time, thank the ancients for private planes or he might not have made it at all.

Gotham City was gross. Danny could taste it in the air as soon as the doors opened; it was too sweet and had a rancid aftertaste that made him think of rotting fruit.

Gotham was out of sync with the Ghost Zone.

The symbiosis between the living and dead is a very delicate balancing act. It was one of the reasons Dora cracked down so hard on spirits that crossed to the living realm to cause mayhem.

When a living being dies, their spirit is supposed to move from the living realm to the dead. This creates a small rip in the universe and allows a small amount of ectoplasm from the Ghost Zone to escape into the living realm. When a large number of people live and die in one area it will eventually become saturated, and the ectoplasm will in turn absorb the emotions of the living.

The emotionally charged ectoplasm slowly bleeds back over to the Ghost Zone and the fabric between the living and the Ghost Zone becomes thin. This is referred to as a hot spot. Ghosts eat, sleep, breed, and speak with emotions. Emotions are everything to ghosts, which is why most major cities have a corresponding settlement in the Ghost Zone. Ghosts settle on the opposite side to the living, absorbing and processing the emotionally charged ectoplasm.

Gotham wasn’t a typical city though. With the amount of fear, sadness and despair it was basically a toxic wasteland.

Negative emotions usually aren’t a problem, but in high quantities they can make weaker ghosts sick. When the negative emotions became too prevalent for the positive to outweigh, ghosts started to leave their side of the hot spot. The High king should have fixed the imbalance, but Pariah Dark wasn’t the best ruler and eventually the ghost side of Gotham’s hot spot was abandoned.

With the high levels of ectoplasm and frequent deaths Gotham creates plenty of its own ghosts. Most form in the Zone and are happy to be as far away from the city as possible. Some get lost on their way though and others still are tethered to the living realm until their business is concluded. Those unlucky enough to form in the city become weak from the fermented ectoplasm that permeates every street of Gotham.

On the ride to the hotel alone Danny felt a ten-year unspoken hatred wafting from a dusty apartment building that looked like it had been vacant for a decade. The terror of a hundred mugging victims painted the wall of a dark alley. A wordless, heavy grief oozed through the low fence surrounding a graveyard.

It was less than a ten-minute ride, but it felt like an eternity.

Danny was more resistant to the corrupted ectoplasm than other ghosts; both from being half alive and being on the stronger end of the ghostly spectrum. No wonder Nell hadn’t wanted to send anyone else.

After dumping his suitcase onto the bed in his hotel room, Danny decided to explore.

The concierge at the front desk gave him directions to a nearby local café. It was less than a block from the hotel, tucked in between a plant nursery and an office building. The inside was warm and cheery. It still had an old musty sadness-panic, likely leftover from whatever occupied the space previously, but it was weak and overpowered by the comforting smell of coffee and quiet conversations.

Danny ordered an iced coffee and chocolate croissant to snack on, before snagging a table near the wall.

He pulled out the enchanted accordion folder full of files from his backpack. According to Melly it was slightly psychic and would know which files he was looking for in addition to holding way more than it should.

Danny wanted an easy simple case to get a feel for Gotham (It was never easy). He was too tired to do any real investigating, but he was planning on sleeping all day tomorrow until he had to get up for the party Vlad was insisting he go to and he had too much work to do in Gotham to procrastinate.

He’d already read all the files, there were a lot though and he couldn’t remember all the specifics. He had differing amounts of information for all the lost souls on the list Nell gave him. Some of them had next to nothing while others had files over an inch thick.

Zachary Parsons was solidly in the middle.

He was reported as deceased over twenty years ago, but never reported for intake in any of the afterlives. The Office of Lost Souls determined he wasn’t wandering around the Ghost Zone. So, his soul should still be tethered to Gotham somewhere.

The Gotham Police Department had gotten a missing person’s report but dismissed the case for a lack of evidence before it even got to a detective's desk.

Zachary’s sister, Elizabeth, called the GPD three times a week for over a year to beg for news. She still lived in Gotham, just a block from their childhood home.

That made things pretty straightforward. Any soul guide could have done this case if it weren’t deep in Gotham.

Danny looked up the sister’s address on his phone. It was about an hour walk. He could turn invisible and fly but the more he used his powers the more the other ghosts would be able to sense him. With the distinct lack of clean ectoplasm, his would be like a bonfire. In a pitch-dark arctic cave. In the dead of winter. Every Ghost in the city limits would know he was there immediately.

The weather wasn’t awful today though. Maybe it was a terrible idea to walk, all the travel guides said tourists should stay off the streets. Well all the travel guides said tourists should stay out of Gotham full stop, but to “take a car if you absolutely have to go to that god forsaken place for any reason.” Even the public transportation was said to be more dangerous than snorkeling in a pool of hungry sharks.

Danny licked the last vestiges of chocolate off his fingers and threw away his trash.

The Office of Lost Souls had many different departments, but they all work towards the same goal: Helping lost souls pass on to wherever their version of an afterlife was. Technically the term lost soul applies to all ghosts since they all failed to pass on correctly. Not all ghosts are ready to, or even want to move on though. So, the Office of Lost Souls keeps track of the residents of the Ghost Zone. When a soul enters the Ghost Zone, they send a soul guide to perform an initial assessment and explain the situation. If they don’t want to move on, they get labelled as a semi-permanent resident and are allowed to go about with as much or as little assistance as they want. If they do want to move on, the soul guide helps them work through whatever is keeping them from doing so.

It gets more complicated when a soul gets physically lost on their way to the Ghost zone or tethered to the living realm. For one, most ghosts that form in the living realm do so because they died traumatic deaths. Those ghosts are also sometimes very difficult to find, and their minds are often clouded with unresolved feelings about their death. To add to the difficulty, time in the Ghost Zone isn’t always linear and it’s not uncommon for a ghost to form outside of their own personal timeline. It might take a decade for a ghost to form after their death or they might get thrown back in time, forming as a ghost before their physical bodies are even born.  Clockwork sometimes intervened if the timeline became too unstable. That was actually how Danny had gotten involved with the Office of Lost Souls.

With an uncharacteristic show of luck, Danny made it across town without incident.

Danny could feel Zachary’s core as soon as he turned onto the street where he grew up. It was screaming protect-fear- defeat.

It didn’t take long to find the tiny blonde spirit curled into a ball under the sagging deck of his sister’s house.

“This is a pretty sweet haunt.” Danny commented conversationally.

The boy whirled around; he would have hit his head on the deck if he’d been corporeal.

“Personally, I’d go for a little bit more furniture.” Danny continued, ignoring the shocked expression on Zachary’s face. “Maybe a couch or some art? I know- I know, you don’t really need furniture, but I think it adds a little something to the ambiance.”

“You-“ Zachary broke off, his voice hoarse from disuse.  He coughed a few times and Danny felt his own core clench in his chest at the sight. “You can see me?”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed quietly to avoid spooking the Ghost. “My name is Danny. What’s yours?”

“Zach. I-“ The boy began to cry, “I don’t know what’s going on. I want my Lizzy but no one can see me and-“ He broke off again with a hiccup, tears streaming down his chin.

Danny reached out and Zach immediately barreled into him, tiny arms wrapping around his waist as his body shook with sobs.

This wasn’t the first time Danny had a dead crying child cling to him for comfort, and it wouldn’t be the last but that didn’t make it any easier. It was never easy. He pressed back against Zach’s distressed feelings with calm- safety- warmth.

“Shh.” Danny ran a hand through Zach’s short dirty hair. “Everything is going to be okay. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere until we’ve got this figured out. I promise.”

Even if Danny didn’t meet Robin ever again, even if he didn’t find a single other lost soul on his list, the trip to Gotham was worth it just for this.

Chapter Text

Batman looked at his reflection in the floor length mirror, frowning. He straightened his sleeves and fastened them into place with a pair of shiny black cufflinks Cassandra gifted him last Father’s Day. He was dressed in a custom suit, nice but not the most expensive in his wardrobe, and a pair of glossy impractical shoes that pinched his feet. He ached for the lightweight tactical boots he wore on patrol, the comforting weight of his utility belt, the familiar pressure of his comm unit in his ear.

This would be so much easier if he could just be Batman tonight instead of Bruce Wayne.

This wasn’t the first time a mission got a little too close to their civilian identities for comfort, but mixing Bruce Wayne and Batman always felt personal in a way that nothing else did.

Ten Days ago, John Constantine of the Justice League Dark called The Watchtower for assistance. He claimed initially to have received correspondence via an unknown source and needed help tracking the sender down.

After Batman agreed to help, Constantine showed up with the pale lavender envelope that had started this whole debacle. The letter read like an official document, addressing Constantine by name, birthdate, and dimension of origin. It informed him that a violent dispute requiring action had broken out in dimension 263- C and all reserve military personnel, medics, volunteers and all beings otherwise serving the crown in any capacity should expect to be called to active duty at a moment’s notice. Attached with a bright pink paperclip was a list of every soul contract Constantine had ever signed and orders to report in three weeks for assignment.

Constantine couldn’t do that of course. Even if the JLD could spare him for an indeterminate amount of time, which was unlikely, he needed to be sure it wasn’t some kind of elaborate hoax or a trap.

“What could have possibly convinced you it was a good idea to sell your soul forty-eight separate times?” Batman asked after skimming through the list.

“I don’t bloody know.” Constantine sighed tiredly, then added in a defeated voice, “I thought they would cancel each other out.”

“You thought they would cancel each other out.” Batman repeated, the same way he did when one of his children said something ridiculous.

“It worked the first time!”

Batman let the irritation show on his face. This was the problem with magic users. It was the first rule of crime fighting: Any weapon can and will be turned against the wielder given enough time. Magic was one of the most powerful weapons of all, yet all magic users seemed intent on acting as if they were invincible. That was why he tried to keep magicians and meta humans out of Gotham as much as possible.

“Some of this information is personal, who has access to the records of your soul contracts?” Batman asked, trying not to grind his teeth from the frustration.

Constantine was utterly unhelpful. He clearly hadn’t thought about the consequences of selling his soul and hadn’t done even the most basic due diligence.

The JLD was able to confirm the letter had traces of death magic but couldn’t trace the source any farther than that.

With the urgency, Batman was forced to involve most of the Justice League in the search. They sent messages to every mage, warlock, witch, shaman, and sorcerer they knew of. Despite the vast resources at their disposal, they could find nothing about the supposed interdimensional war nor who was fighting in it. Everyone they talked to was either as confused about the whole thing as Constantine or took one look at the innocuous envelope and fled in the opposite direction. It took days before they found anything even remotely useful, days that they didn’t have.

Finally, one of Red Robins contacts came through (well a contact of a contact, but he was still taking credit.) A gnarled old witch in New Orleans that looked like she could have stepped right out of a Disney movie had information. Instead of turning pale or running away upon seeing the letter she had started laughing hysterically.

“How’d a fancy magician like you get mixed up in soul magic?”

It took a trade of half a pint of human blood, three perfectly smooth rocks and Flash’s left shoe to get a summoning ritual that the witch assured them would bring them someone with the knowledge to identify their mystery sender, although she refused to elaborate farther and disappeared when Batman went back to pressure her for more information ten minutes after they’d left.

The only thing left in the empty work room was a glowing neon green post-it note.

Time can only postpone that which comes, and Fate does not forget those who cheat her.

That cryptic fortune-cookie-like warning was almost enough to keep the Justice League from following through with the summoning ritual. Almost. In the end paranoia over the unknown and a lack of other options won out over common sense.

The Justice League was alert and ready for anything when Zatanna and Constantine finished the summoning circle and began to chant in an unfamiliar language. Or they thought they were at least.

Then Robin’s soulmate appeared.

Batman still couldn’t make up his mind on Daniel Fenton.

If Danny was telling the truth, which at least Constantine thought he was, he was one of the few people in any universe with a direct line to the High Queen of the dead. But Daniel Fenton was just a kid, a teenager, like Damian.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous, like Damian.

If he was being honest with himself, Batman was more surprised with Robin’s lax research than the possibility his soulmate was dangerous. Robin was detail orientated and very rarely made mistakes.

Robin didn’t make a mistake.

Every piece of information available on Danny matched Robin’s report. Danny was, according to every veritable source, a perfectly ordinary teenager.

Barbara called out sick from work and spent the whole day looking into Danny while the boys tailed him from the airport. Well, the boys excluding Jason.

Bruce didn’t like lying to his children and while he might not have explicitly lied to Jason, he still felt guilty over the omission. Jason would be angry if when he found out.

He couldn’t tell Jason. Things were just starting to get better between him and the family. They couldn’t predict how Jason would react if Danny was connected to the Lazarus pits in some way.

What if Danny died and came back, like Jason? What would that mean for them? What would that mean for Damian?

Damian was hardly the most patient of his children. Could he navigate the mood swings and irrationality that would come with pit madness?

That was assuming Damian could navigate a relationship in the first place. Bruce was sure that Damian was capable, but he wasn’t exactly known for his patience or strong communication skills.

While the kids were occupied Batman did some of his own investigating. Unfortunately, it didn’t go much better for him than it did for Babs or Damian. Constantine had started drinking before Danny retreated through the summoning circle and, unless he thought liver failure would disqualify him from service, seemed to have given up. Zatanna had been spooked after the summoning and coincidently had to leave immediately after Danny’s departure for a personal emergency and was now ignoring his various messages.

In a last-ditch effort to get information, which he was now finding himself regretting, Bruce had sent a message to Talia. He couldn’t know for sure that Damian’s mother even got his message, it was an old contingency plan from when they were together so they could contact one another if they were separated. There was no guarantee she had checked those channels anytime in the last decade, let alone in the last 36 hours. If Danny was connected to the Lazarus Pits, if somehow, he’d been exposed to them the way Jason had, Talia would know. (She’d known about Jason)

Part of him hoped she didn’t see the message. Dredging up the past was always needlessly painful, and Talia in particular always seemed to know exactly how to cut him to the core.

If that wasn’t enough to worry about, Damian was also convinced that Danny must have sold his soul to this High Queen and was taking it as a personal attack. He probably would have stormed into the Infinite Realms and challenged her to a duel himself if someone pointed him in the right direction.

It felt odd to be grateful for a lack of information but in this instance, Bruce couldn’t help but feel glad Damian didn’t know how to find the High Queen any more than the Justice League did.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred interrupted his brooding with a knock at the door. “The cut off between fashionably late and just plain late is quickly approaching.”

Batman took one more look in the mirror. He might be dressed as Bruce Wayne tonight, but for the sake of his family this was one mission he couldn’t afford to screw up.

oOo

“What are you doing here?”

Dick smiled fondly at his youngest brother. Damian might have been a feral little gremlin when he showed up on Bruce’s doorstep six- almost seven years ago but he’d come so far since then and was handling the whole soulmate thing much better than Dick would have expected. More and more lately Dick felt the bubble of pride in his chest get so full he had to hold himself back from wrapping Damian in one of the tight hugs he claimed he hated.

“I thought I’d catch a ride with you guys. No point in taking two cars.” Dick answered brightly, pushing past into the foyer, “Oh hey Steph! What are you doing here?”

Damian's cute little frown solidified into a full-blown scowl.

“She was just about to leave. As. Are. You.” He hissed.

The entryway was fuller than Dick was expecting. In addition to Tim and Dami; Duke, Cass, and Steph all decided to tag along tonight.

No wonder Damian looked so stressed.

Usually, it took a combination of threats, bribery and long-winded lectures on responsibility by Bruce to get even one of them to hang up their masks for the night in exchange for a formal suit.

The reason behind everyone’s change of heart was obvious, they all wanted a glimpse of Robin’s soulmate. Tim texted the girls before Danny even left The Watchtower and with the exception of Jason (who still didn't know) and Duke (who was busy with patrol) they had all tried to tail Danny from the airport.

Tried being the key word. It had been really easy at first. In hindsight maybe that should have been a red flag.

There was a town car waiting for Danny and Vlad Masters that took them from the airport to the Grand Luxe Hotel and Spa on Main Street.

“Doesn’t Masters own a house in Gotham?” Steph asked as the pair entered the building. “Why are they-”

“Bristol. As far as we can tell Masters is in town for the social season.” Tim interrupted to explain. “It's not uncommon for socialites to stay in the city to avoid the traffic in and out, Mr. Cogsworth rents a suite downtown for eight months out of the year.”

Dick had stopped being surprised that Tim knew so much about the Gotham elite’s personal lives years ago, but it was still unsettling. He knew seemingly random facts about all of them although Dick knew Tim himself considered them all vital pieces of information.

“Wait what?” Steph looked dumbfounded, and apparently not from Tim’s stalking tendencies. “Over seventeen percent of the children in Gotham are homeless at any given time and you’re telling me those rich fuck-” She was shouting now.

Cass put her hand on Steph’s arm, and she visibly forced her voice back to a normal volume.

“Those rich fucks are renting a second place to avoid the traffic to Bristol?”

Tim grimaced and shrugged his shoulders.

“Father has a penthouse downtown.” Damian added, not taking his eyes off the hotel. “It’s more time efficient to stay in the city on occasion. It is only logical that they take advantage of the opportunity to do so when it's available to them.”

Dick tried not to groan.

“It's simple economics!” Steph argued back, “There's only so many residences in the city, if those idiots are taking up space they don't need it lowers the supply and-”

“Can we please not fight?” Dick pleaded.

They ignored him of course.

“I said it was logical, not that it was an ethically sound situation-”

“Oh my god. Why are you such a fucking robot all the time? Those are real people!”

Damian put his binoculars down, turning to face Steph with an irritated expression.

“Hotels and many other short term rental options downtown are zoned as commercial property, not residential-”

“Hey guys,” Tim tried, and failed to get their attention.

“Who gives a flying fuck how its zone-”

“You should! If people stopped using them and those businesses shut down they would be replaced with other businesses. If you really care about affordable housing you should be blaming the city, not the consumers.”

“Except those consumers.” Steph said the word derisively, “are the same assholes who are paying off the city!”

“Guys!” Tim shouted, startling a bird from the fire escape. “Danny is leaving,” he added in a lower voice.

They followed Danny across the rooftops as he strode purposefully into a coffee shop and then down the street. He kept his head down and earbuds in, looking down between his phone and a stack of documents in a way that screamed “I’m an easy target, come and get me!”

Did no one warn him how dangerous Gotham was?

Part of Dick wanted to swoop down and wrap the kid in bubble wrap. The other part wanted to track down Masters and shake him for letting Danny roam the city alone.

“Look.” Cass instructed, pointing to a man who was walking behind Danny.

“I’ll take care of it.” Damian announced, rising to a half crouch from his perch on the edge of an apartment complex roof.

“No.” Cass shook her head. “Look. Watch.”

Damian followed her instruction but didn’t relax.

They watched as the man sped up, obviously intending to intercept Danny.

“Cass, are you sure?” Dick asked. With all of them right there watching it was a fairly safe way of assessing Danny’s skills, but Dick was still wary. He hated watching. He wanted to do something.

Cass put a finger over her lips, shushing him.

The suspicious looking man closed in on Danny and in a practiced movement pushed him off the sidewalk into the mouth of a nearby alley.

Danny for his part stayed calm. He took one earbud out, not even looking up from his phone as he ducked under the man’s arm.

“Uh- not interested. Sorry.” Danny made a vague hand gesture as if he was waving the man away, still completely oblivious to the dangerous situation he was in.

The would-be mugger grabbed Danny’s arm and Dick saw Cass doing the same to Dami to keep him from interfering.

“That wasn’t a question kid!” The man in the alley sneered, flipping open a short knife. “Now give me your fuckin wallet.”

Danny didn’t flinch, in fact he didn't seem to have heard the man at all. His eyes were glued to his phone screen, using one hand to text as if he couldn't be bothered to look up at all.

“Yeah- Uh good luck with that Buddy,” Danny replied absently, shrugging off the man's grip with ease. He easily dodged the knife without even trying and slipped back into the street as if nothing had happened in the first place.

The failed mugger watched Danny walk away, frozen in shock? Or embarrassment maybe, if his flushed face was anything to judge by.

“That was-” Dick started.

“The coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen!” Steph exclaimed.

Beneath them the man still stood motionless, and Dick felt an unexpected surge of pity. The mugger didn’t know he’d gotten off easy. He’d been doomed from the moment he picked Danny as a target. Things would have been much worse for him if Robin had intervened.  

Dick looked over at Damian who looked miserable.

“Hey what's wrong lil D?”

Damian shook his head and Dick thought he heard a muttered “Idiot,” before Damian grappled to the next roof. 

They made short work of catching the mugger, even though he had failed to rob Danny Dick doubted the half dozen wallets, phones and assorted jewelry in the man’s pocket were obtained lawfully. In less than five minutes he was handcuffed to a fire escape and the GCPD was on their way to pick him up.

When they tried to catch up with Danny though he wasn’t there. At first Dick thought he must have turned down a side street but when they looked, they couldn’t find him anywhere. Even Babs came up blank when they called her and she ran a facial recognition search through the traffic cameras.

If the summoning circle and subsequent revelation about being Dami’s soulmate hadn't been enough to pique any of their attention the mugging incident was. Dick should have realized he wouldn't be the only one to tag along tonight. 

“I thought it was just Damian, Tim and I this evening.” B frowned, giving them an appraising look that was more Bat-Dad than Bruce-Dad as he walked down the imperial staircase.

Could he be any more dramatic?

It took Dick a monumental amount of effort to keep from rolling his eyes.

“Well, I was in town…” Dick drawled.

“I heard there was going to be free food.” Steph shrugged as if that was reason enough for her to go. (It wasn’t. Steph regularly complained about what she called rich-asshole-food and hated almost any event that was catered on principle.)

“Want to meet Danny.” Cass explained shortly.

“There is no way I’m missing this trainwreck.” Duke tacked on, already yawning even though it wasn't even nine yet. He must have had a long patrol today; Dick would have to ask Babs about it later just in case Duke needed some big brother time.

Bruce sighed, looking around with the kind of exasperated expression that only comes from years of experience with their unique brand of unhinged shenanigans.

“Who is patrolling tonight?”

Dick could tell B wasn't convinced by their assurances that it was supposed to be a quiet night and Jay would be fine on his own.

“He has O on comms, and we can sneak out if we really need to.”

“Yeah! Besides, if anything big is going to go down tonight it will probably be at the party.”

That comment did more to convince B than anything else. It was true too. Tonight’s party- or Soirée as the Warners were calling it would be a possible target.

Big parties, especially high-profile ones were always attacked by someone in Gotham. It happened so often that some of the more competitive socialites would actually brag about having their events attacked like it was some kind of competition. The Wayne Family Gala at the end of the month would be targeted by an A-lister for sure if past experience was anything to judge by.

Tonight’s party might be a target depending on how bored the various rouges were. It wasn’t a big enough event to be a lure for a major villainous plot, but any sizable gathering of wealth was bound to attract attention in Gotham.

Damian continued to glower at all of them as they shuffled into the limo and throughout the entire drive.

“I expect everyone to be on their best behavior this evening.” Bruce began as the limo pulled up to the curb. “Remember Dick and I will question Masters. Steph, Cass, one of Danny’s friends is attending tonight. Her name is Samantha Manson, find out what she knows. Duke, Tim, I want you two to keep an eye on the other Amity Parkers. We’ve got a few of them in town for the party tonight, see if you can get anything from them.”

The Warners owned one of the upscale downtown hotels, named The Warner (in case anyone was confused about who owned it.) Tonight’s Soiree was in the grand ballroom. It was the same party that kicked off the social season every year in Gotham and Mrs. Warner took great pride in it.

It wasn’t the first time Dick had attended; the Warner’s annual soiree was actually one of the first events he was dragged to with Bruce after moving to Gotham. People still talked about the awesome backflip he did right before the 17^th century crystal chandelier, complete with over a hundred lit candles ripped through the studs and crashed into the middle of the Ballroom.

“I still think I should go with Damian.” Dick whined as they walked up the steps. “He needs a wing-man.”

“You already met Danny!” Steph objected. “It's my turn. I should go with Damian!”

“No one will be accompanying me.” Damian reminded them sternly.

“But Dami!”

“You met Danny on Patrol!” Duke argued with Steph. “If it's anyone's turn it's mine!”

“None of you will be allowed to intimidate him.” Damian responded icily.

“But what if you need my-“

“Everyone settle down.” Bruce ordered. “Damian is perfectly capable of requesting assistance should he need it.”

The ballroom was already full of dancing couples, groups of gossiping socialites and caterers in crisp uniforms.

Dick fixed his public smile to his face and set his shoulders. He stuck next to Bruce as the kids fanned out in search of their targets. There was a familiar rhythm to their movements as the two of them scanned the Ballroom.

“Spotted.” Bruce whispered under his breath. “East corner next to the pillar, green tie.”

Dick glanced over surreptitiously. Masters was deep in an animated conversation with someone who had their backs to them.

“Who’s he talking to?”

“You don’t recognize him?” Bruce asked, surprised.

Dick narrowed his eyes; he could see a head of thinning brown hair and a thin frame that looked almost skeletal from under a tailored dark blue suit.

“You did make him cry once.” Bruce told him, teasingly. “I doubt he’s forgotten your face after you shattered his million dollar antique-“

“Oh my god Bruce! That was more than a decade ago!” Dick complained before he realized what Bruce was implying. “That’s Mr. Warner? He looks very- different.”

The Mr. Warner he remembered from his childhood hadn’t been exceptionally large or anything, but he had at least looked healthy. This man looked almost emaciated.

“Charles’ health took a turn for the worse a few years after you left. There are some rumors that its stress related.” Bruce shrugged. “I suppose it has been a while since you’ve been in Gotham for the social season.”

Dick laughed, shaking his head.

“It’s a lot easier to schedule conflicts now than it was ten years ago.”

“If I could get away with it, I would do the same.” Bruce pasted on his Brucie Wayne TM smile as someone waved to him.

“We should make a move before we’re swarmed with your admirers.”

“Hnn.” Bruce grumbled but they started moving more directly towards Masters. “You distract Charles, when you get a chance to lose him circle back,” he ordered.

Dick nodded and took the delicate glass of champagne Bruce passed him as they got close, taking a sip. It was a prop tonight, but he had to admit a very pleasant one.

“They were only five yards from the- Bruce!?” Masters stopped his conversation mid-sentence, almost dropping his glass of wine in surprise as Bruce slung an arm around his shoulder.

“Vladdie!” Bruce greeted him jovially. “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t realize you would be here this evening.” Then turning towards Mr. Warner he added, “Everything looks great Charlie, you really went all out this year, huh?”

Mr. Warner smiled at the compliment, but Dick could tell it was forced.

“You’ll have to tell Patty; it was all her doing after all. She’ll be happy to hear all her hard work paid off.”

“I definitely will when I see her!” Bruce assured him. “I’m glad we ran into you as well, Dickie here was just reminiscing with me about your chandelier. You had it shipped in from London originally, right?”

“My Father did actually.” Mr. Warner corrected him, looking a little suspiciously at Dick. “It has been in our family for generations.”

Dick took his cue and cut in.

“I’m glad you were able to get it repaired, it looks amazing Mr. Warner, really better than it did before if I’m being completely honest.” Dick rambled moving just far enough away that it forced the other man to turn away from Bruce and Vlad. “Bruce has had a few replaced, so I know how hard it can be. Luckily building codes are a lot stricter now. I bet they reinforced the base when they hung it up, didn’t they?”

“I’m not sure actually.” Mr. Warner was starting to get flustered, and Dick smiled wider, pretending not to notice.

He had all of Mr. Warners attention now and he could see Bruce pulling Masters into a conversation over his shoulder.

“I’m sure they did.” Dick assured him. “Nowadays you could probably swing a good two hundred pounds from it without any issue.” Dick looked up at the chandelier like he was assessing it.

“Well now- I don’t really know about that-“ Mr. Warner stuttered out looking between his prized possession and Dick’s slightly crazy look.

“Oh no.” Dick’s eyes widened innocently, “I wasn’t suggesting we test it out or anything.”

Mr. Warner relaxed a fraction.

“Unless…” Dick trailed off wistfully.

Mr. Warner turned red and squeaked out something about needing to attend to an emergency.

Dick wondered if he was going to make sure there were no maintenance ladders left out that Dick could use to climb up to his chandelier and put on a repeat performance. He had to cover a laugh with a soft cough at the picture of a red-faced Mr. Warner interrogating some poor custodian instead of greeting his guests.

“I’m getting a weird interference from the cameras in the sub-basement.” Babs’s voice sounded deep in his left ear via the discrete comm unit they all wore for undercover operations. “It could be nothing but given the circumstance and our usual luck…”

“It's probably not a coincidence.” Dick finished for her under his breath.

So much for questioning Masters about Danny.

“I can ask Hood.” Babs offered.

“No, that’s okay. Dick sighed.

They had already decided that he would be the one on call tonight in case one of them needed to suit up. Bruce wanted to keep Jason away from the party and Bruce always gets what he wants.

It only took him a few minutes to slip into an empty room and strip off his formal wear. The others might make fun of his Nightwing suit for being skin-tight, but he could get away with wearing it under almost anything so take that.

He gave a wry grin that she couldn’t see when Oracle sent him a map of the ventilation system.

“No other routes?”

“One main entrance, a service elevator. I can’t be sure what you’d be walking in to with the cameras out though” She explained.

He looked at the narrow vent and sighed again.

God. The things he did for this family.

Chapter Text

Cass let the babble of overlapping voices wash over her as she took stock of the ballroom, intentionally tuning out the non-vital information.

Their target, Samantha Manson, was to their left chatting with another young woman. Their body language said they were peers. Friends.

Manson was the shorter of the two, although judging from her stance; the platform boots she wore under her long skirt were shorter than the heels the other wore. Her skirt was purple, not Purple like Steph Purple, but a purple that verged on blue and it was long enough to almost brush the ground with every step.

Cass appreciated that the skirt was straight unlike the poofy, flaring, mountains of fabric that obscured the bodies of so many women tonight. Petticoats and hoops and underskirts. So many words for such uselessness. 

The Woman speaking with Manson had dark curly hair and a sunset- orange dress that vaguely resembled an upside-down tulip.

They didn’t have a plan for tonight, not exactly. There were too many moving pieces and variables for a real plan, but that was okay. Steph and her always worked well together even if they were improvising, sometimes better when they were improvising.

Cass would mostly be observing tonight. She was known well enough around Gotham that no one would question her silence. Steph knew how she felt about these kinds of things so she would take on the more active role in interrogating their target. After they would debrief and Cass would tell her what she picked up from their body language.

Steph was the perfect partner for this mission. Cass wouldn’t have chosen anyone else.

“-listening to me? Cass!”

Cass turned to Steph guiltily.

“Sorry.” She apologized.

“What is going on with you? Are you feeling okay?” Steph asked with a concerned note in her voice. Her body was tense with worry. With protect. Care.

“Yes. Found her.” Cass nodded towards Manson and the friend she’d been observing.

Steph frowned. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear; she wanted Cass to tell her what was wrong. Cass couldn’t tell her what was wrong.

Cass didn’t know what was wrong with herself. She didn’t feel sick, her body didn’t ache with hunger or exhaustion. No, this was something different. Something new.

It started right after Cass came back from Hong Kong this last time. She was curled up with Steph on their couch in the warehouse-turned-apartment they shared near The Hill, when she lost focus on the story Steph was telling her for the first time. Cass found herself lost in the smell of Steph’s favorite shampoo, a smell that was achingly familiar yet brand new from their time apart. It wasn’t the last time either, more and more lately she found herself losing focus, relaxing around Steph so far as to impair her spatial awareness. Even worse, Steph was starting to notice, and Cass had no idea how to explain it to her.

They both watched Manson in silence for a minute.

A third girl, this one in a sparkling pastel pink dress joined the other two.  She spoke with them briefly before grabbing Manson by the hand and pulling her towards the dance floor.

Those two girls were together. Manson and Pink Dress. Cass didn’t know what they called their relationship, but they were clearly in one. Whatever they labeled it, it was new. There was still plenty of the nervous energy new couples had when they touched.

Orange tulip dress stared after them just long enough to see Manson put her hands on the others hips, then she walked away.

Part of Cass wanted to follow her instead, to find out what that look meant but she reigned that part in. They had a mission.

“Come.” Cass asked, offering her hand to Steph.

Steph’s hand was warm against Cass’s palm and the rough calluses were comforting in their familiarity. Cass could have identified Steph from those calluses alone.

Cass dragged Steph onto the dance floor, almost mirroring the scene they’d just witnessed. There was none of the nervous energy though, when Cass pulled Steph into her arms or when Steph looped hers around Cass’s shoulders.

Of course, there wasn’t. There was nothing to be nervous about. Steph wasn’t her girlfriend. Her Lover.

Steph was her best friend. They were closer than sisters. They shared everything; secrets, clothes, even Batgirl. They were confidants. Companions. Partners. There were so many words for what they were to each other but none of them fit right. There aren’t words in any language for the way she felt about Steph.

“Cass, you’re doing it again.”

“Thinking.” Cass explained shortly, leading their slow waltz in the general direction of the other pair.

“Yeah right. I might not be an expert in body language like you but I know what your thinking face looks like.” Steph insisted. “If you don’t feel well, we can go home.”

“The mission-“

“Fuck the mission.” Steph hissed, nearly halting their dance. Her body said she was angry now in addition to the concern from earlier. Not angry at Cass. She took a deep breath relaxing fractionally, “Cass, it’s not a real mission and even if it was it wouldn’t be worth killing yourself over. B wasn’t even planning on us coming tonight until an hour ago. We can just go home and watch a movie? Or we could get Thai from that place you like next to the bookstore?”

They were getting close to Manson now, too close to continue this conversation.

Part of Cass wanted to give in and go home with Steph, to spend the next six hours eating takeout and cookie dough until the early hours of morning. But she really was fine, and she did want to meet Danny and make sure he was good enough for her little brother.

“Trust me.” Cass asked.

Steph didn’t say anything, she didn’t have to. Her body relaxed in Cass’s grip.

Steph always trusted Cass.

As the music picked up, they seamlessly transitioned into a faster box step. It was almost a Viennese waltz except Steph couldn’t help but add her own freestyle spins and Cass couldn’t help but indulge her.

Cass loved dancing. It was her first real hobby when she came to Gotham. Dancing was the first time she felt truly free and comfortable in her own skin. Dancing was Freedom, it was simple, it was beautiful. Dancing made Cass feel beautiful, it allowed her to add more beauty to the world. For someone whose hands hand so often been stained by the ugly gore of violence and death, creating beauty was a magic she had never thought was possible.

Cass dipped Steph low to the ground and someone off to the side of them clapped. Steph smiled and spun in a tight circle, showing off for their audience.

The applause drew more eyes and in a few short minutes they had something of a crowd surrounding them. Some of the couples stopped their own dances to observe. Manson and her partner seemed unbothered by the extra attention on their section of the dance floor, if anything they grew more bold, copying some of Steph and her moves.

Manson kissed her partner on the cheek when she copied their dip and the other girl flushed a more vivid pink than her dress, pulling Manson close against her when she regained her footing.

Steph tucked her own head under Cass’, concealing the movement of her mouth with Cass’s shoulder. 

“What do you say we do an Icebreaker?”

It was code for a strategy they used with targets to orchestrate a first meeting and Cass hummed her agreement against the top of Steph’s head.

“Be advised: I’m pulling Wing out for some reconnaissance.”  Barbara’s electronic voice crackled just slightly in Cass’s ear.

“Acknowledged.” Steph whispered, using her hair as a curtain to hide her lips this time.

“Good. He is far less bothersome when otherwise occupied.” Damian responded over the line scathingly.

“Ouch. Come on lil D, you don’t mean that!” Dick whined quietly, his voice echoing strangely.

“No arguing on comms.” This voice wasn’t any more electronic than the others, but it was strangely devoid of tone; Cass identified it as the computer-generated voice assigned to Batman.

Bruce created the program for her originally when she joined the Bats, although they all use it from time to time now. It would allow the user to type, or if they were wearing a domino that was set up for it even sign, and relay that into a generated voice so the others could hear it. Cass still used the program the most when she was nonverbal, but the others also used it as well when they couldn’t verbally respond. Bruce must have been too close to civilians to speak out loud.

Steph made eye contact with her, barely raising her eyebrows and Cass gave her a short nod. She was ready.

Manson and her partner were the only other couple in the area still dancing, the others had all either joined the crowd of observers or gone somewhere else to avoid the scrutiny. The two were excellent dancers, they must have had lessons at some point.

Cass and Steph stepped to the right in perfect synchrony then Cass stopped as if the dip Steph again and Steph continued moving, tangling her legs with Cass’ and toppling them both into Manson and her dance partner.

“Oh my god, we are so sorry.” Steph had barely hit the floor before she was apologizing. “Are you guys okay? Are you okay?”

Steph looked down at her with exaggerated concern, checking for injuries they both knew she didn’t have. Then she resumed her hurricane of motion, jumping to her feet and pulling them each with her in turn.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Manson laughed lightly at Steph’s apparent panic, “Right, Pauls?”

“Saaaam,” the girl in the pink dress protested the nickname, flush returning but she smiled and answered.  “It takes more than a little fall to wrinkle me- although” She frowned looking at Manson, “I can’t say the same for your dress and- oh no.”

On one side of Manson’s dress was a four-inch tear near the hem.

“Shit, I am so sorry.” Steph tried apologizing again.

“No no. It’s okay, really, its not even that bad.” Manson insisted. “No one will notice.”

“They’ll notice.” Pink dress deadpanned.

“Oh, I know! We can go into one of the side rooms. Cass has a sewing needle for emergencies, and we can just patch it up real quick.” Steph suggested as if the idea had just now occurred to her. “It won’t be perfect but hopefully no one will look close enough to notice. “

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” Manson insisted again.

“Yes.” Pink dress answered, “That’s a great idea- Sammy stop looking at me like that, you know I’m right.”

“I’m Steph by the way, Stephanie Brown but call me Steph. And this is Cassandra- Cass.” Steph introduced them, leading the group towards a door set across from the refreshments.

“I’m Sam.” Manson replied, “ This is my girlfriend Paulina.” She gestured towards her partner.

“Paulina Sanchez.” The second girl- Paulina clarified. “You’re Bruce Wayne’s kids, right?”

“She is.” Steph explained, gesturing towards Cass. “I’m just a friend of the family. What about you guys? I know you’re not from Gotham, I would have noticed someone almost as good at dancing as us.” She added with a wink.

Cass frowned. Steph was not just a friend. She wasn’t just anything.

“Almost?” Paulina asked in an offended tone. Her body said it was fake. Pretending. Teasing.

Once they passed through the door the noises of the party almost disappeared. This side of the ballroom was against the main body of the hotel and insulated against noise. The floors were covered in a thick plush carpet that nearly erased the sound of their footsteps.

“You guys were good; I’ll give you that much.” Steph retorted, smiling widely.

Paulina made a mock offended noise.

“Come on Sammy, back me up here.”

“I don’t know Pauls.” Sam had a glint of mischief in her eyes that reminded her of her brothers. “They were pretty good.” When Paulina went to object Sam added, “Although at least we didn’t fall…”

“Or run anyone over.” Paulina tacked on.

Steph laughed at their teasing, a snorting half cackling noise, and Cass couldn’t hold back the way her own lips twitched into a smile at the sound.

“Yeah okay, we deserve that.” Steph conceded, opening a door on the right side of the hall and peaking in. “Come on, let’s go in here. So, where are you guys from?”

“Middle of nowhere, Illinois.” Sam answered.

Despite the derision in her tone, Cass could see that Sam loved her hometown. There was something in her that Cass recognized. It was a sort of fond heartbreak, the kind you have for a family member who has hurt you or a child who has grown into a monstrous adult. The kind of love you feel guilty for because you love them even if you hate the things they do.

Sam loved her hometown even as she hated it. It reminded Cass of Jason, the way he both loved and hated Gotham.

“We’re just here for a few days,” Paulina elaborated. “Then we’re going to Puerto Rico with my parents for a week. Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Technically these meeting rooms are meant for the hotel guests to do their business stuff in I think but its late and we aren’t bothering anyone.” Steph shrugged. “Besides, if we get in trouble we’ll pull the old ‘do you really want to tell Brucie Wayne his only daughter is in trouble?’ card.”

“Favorite too.” Cass added.

Steph pulled a few chairs from the table in the middle of the room while she talked, gesturing for Paulina and Cass to sit while she crouched to the side of Sam. The needle and thread Cass gave her was technically for sutures, but Steph didn’t seem to care as she started pinching the edges of the fabric together.

“So, Puerto Rico, that’s a big trip. How long have you two been together?”

“A year, this last May.” Paulina answered and when she looked at Sam it was a soft look that Cass was sure was obvious to more than just her.

Sam slowly flushed under her pale make-up at her girlfriend’s stare.

Observing them made Cass feel odd. Wanting. Sad. But also happy?

Wistful? Was that the right word?

“You must have-“ Steph began.

“Have any of you located Danny?” Damian’s demanding voice rang in her ear without warning.

Steph covered her surprise with a cough.

“Excuse me- you must have known each other for while though, right? I’m sensing a best friends to lovers romance arc here? Huh?” Steph needled at them teasingly.

“Isn’t he in the Ballroom?” Barbara asked.

Chatter was strongly discouraged on undercover missions for this exact reason. Normally they all wouldn’t be set to a groupwide channel, but Oracle was spread thin tonight.

Paulina and Sam shared a look before bursting out in laughter.

“If he was, I would not have asked.” Damian retorted.

“Yes, and no.” Sam answered, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. “We’ve known each other for fourteen? Fifteen years?”

“Longer I think,” Paulina looked thoughtful.

“Give me a minute and I’ll run a scan for his face through the cameras.”

“My Abuela was close with Grandma Manson before she passed.” Paulina explained. “And we grew up in the same tiny town, so we’ve known each other for like ever.”

“We uh- were not friends until recently though.” Sam added a little awkwardly.

Under Steph’s encouragement the pair told them about the years of bubbly outgoing cheerleader versus alt goth environmentalist.

Cass had a hard time picturing the two girls at each others throats.

“I should have seen it when you tried to steal my ‘boyfriend’ back in Freshman year.” Sam concluded with a sigh, “It would have saved us a lot of trouble.

“What changed?” Cass asked suddenly.

Sam hesitated, looking at Paulina.

A secret? Or un uncomfortable story perhaps? Maybe Cass shouldn’t have spoken at all.

Paulina gave a sad smile and rolled one of her gloves back far enough to expose the image of a tree with knotting twisted branches right below her wrist.

“My soul mark bloomed when I was eight months old.” Paulina explained. “It took Dash and me a really long time to figure out what being soulmates meant for us. I-“ She paused looking a little hesitant.

“You don’t have to tell us anything personal! I wasn’t trying to pressure you or anything.” Steph assured her.

“No, its okay! Really. Its just hard to explain I guess.” Paulina insisted. “I always knew soulmates didn’t have to be romantic, I mean its probably the first lesson my mom drilled into me but- well Soulmates are supposed to be perfect. Me and Dash, we were perfect for each other. We were neighbors and we had the same friends, and he was going to be the star quarterback and I was going to be the head cheerleader. It was like a movie, and we got to be the stars.”

“Danny is not in the Ballroom.” Oracle’s clinical voice was out of place in this room with such a heartfelt story.

“I thought that if we just played our parts everything would fall into place.” Paulina sighed, and Sam put her arm around her in a half hug.

“Where is your nephew tonight Vladdie? I was looking forward to meeting him.” Bruce’s annoying playboy voice nearly whined.

Cass wanted to pull the comm out of her ear and grind it beneath her shoe. She didn’t.

“Instead, we made each other miserable.” Paulina gave them a wry smile. “We didn’t even know we were doing it. It wasn’t until it got so bad that we were shouting at each other that we realized how unhappy we both were. Turns out” Paulina gave Sam a real smile this time, “we both had a bad case of comp-het and were taking it out on everyone else.”

“Robin, rendezvous with Batman.”

“That’s rough.” Steph commented sympathetically. “Good for you guys talking it out though.”

Now that her hem was done Sam sat down with Paulina, pulling her into a hug.

Steph steered the conversation towards safer topics for a while and eventually ended up on comparing Gotham to Amity Park. Amity supposedly had better fast food, but Gotham definitely won out in the shopping department.

“So, you two are” Paulina hesitated for a moment during a lull in the conversation, “just friends?”

Cass frowned at that phrase again.

“No. not just.” Cass answered at the same time as Steph.

“Yeah we-“ Steph gave Cass an odd look. “No? We’re roommates.” She explained.

“Looks like we might see some action tonight, team.” Nightwing’s voice came through this time, “Be on the lookout for anything suspicious. Suspects are Riddler and Clayface.”

That was an interesting combination to be sure. Those two don't usually run in the same circles.

“We should probably go back before we’re missed.” Steph sighed, “Can’t hide out here forever, right?”

“I guess not.”

Before they entered the ballroom again, Steph grabbed her phone from Cass’s pocket, opening a new contact and handing it to the other two girls.

“Let me know when you guys are free, we’ll show you around the Gotham Mall before you leave town.”

After securing their contact details. Steph opened the door for them back into the Ballroom and they were met with an odd spectacle.

A man in an ill-fitting suit was trying to coax a beautiful woman in a ballgown down from the top of a maintenance ladder. As they watched she adjusted some of the hanging decorations and climbed down, ignoring the man all together. Then she set the ladder up again a few feet away, the man still following her like a headless chicken.

A black-haired boy slipped into the ballroom through a door that led to the kitchens so fast Cass almost missed the movement. His body screamed Casual. Nothing to see here.

When the woman with the ladder almost bumped into him Cass saw his face.

“Found Danny.”

oOo

“Where is everyone?” Danny stopped in his tracks and Vlad bumped into him from behind.

The Ballroom of The Warner was decked out in what he recognized as signature Gotham Gray and everything from the ginormous chandelier in the center of the room to the delicately filigreed tulip champagne glasses were adorned with gleaming gold. Around the room a few guests mingled in small groups, outnumbered by the caterers roaming with their gold serving trays.

“We’re early.” Danny realized, turning to shoot a glare at Vlad. “You said we were going to be late! I could have slept for at least another hour!”

Vlad had been in a huge rush when he came to check on Danny and found him still asleep. He had practically shoved Danny into the bathroom with an order to get ready and when Danny came out twenty minutes later, he was actually pacing.

“We are hardly early, Daniel. The invitation clearly outlined the start time. We are-“ Vlad glanced down at his watch “Three minutes late!”

Danny groaned.

Vlad and Danny had always had a… complicated relationship. Considering how it had started, it’s no wonder things were still a little bit tense. Since Dora took the crown things had gotten much better between them though. Danny couldn’t be sure what she had said to him, but she had said something and Vlad’s schemes had mellowed out a lot. Really getting his parents to agree to the trip to Gotham was the most devious thing he had done in over a year. He was even trying to be nice and offered to pay for Jazz’s college classes, ostensibly string free.

“No one actually shows up to these things on time.” Danny complained thinking of all the sleep he could have been getting.

“Showing up late would be rude to our hosts, Daniel. Oh, look. There’s Charles now. Charles!” Vlad waved someone over; his wide billionaire smile looked too big for his face. “It is so nice to see you. This is my nephew, Daniel. Daniel, this is Charles Warner.”

Danny tried not to grimace.

“Hi, its nice to meet you Mr. Warner.” Danny offered the man a dutiful handshake, just like Vlad had instructed on the way here.

Charles for his part seemed nice enough, even if he was a little bit boring. Danny guessed that he didn’t get out much. He looked tired, like someone who was chronically missing sleep.

Maybe owning a hotel was really stressful?

Vlad nudged him with an elbow, and Danny realized he had lost track of the conversation. What were they talking about again? The décor?

“The party looks really nice. I-uh like the chandelier.” Danny complimented, looking around for something to say.

Charles floundered for a moment.

“I- uh Thank you. It was very expensive. Family heirloom.” He gave Danny a slightly suspicious look, “Tell me, do you have an interest in Acrobatics?”

“No sir.”

“Hmm.” Charles gave him another suspicious look. “Well good. Be sure you stay out of trouble.”

Danny blinked. What was that even about?

“Did you catch the last Packers game Charles?” Vlad asked, redirecting the conversation.

And now Vlad was going to be talking about football for at least the next hour.

Danny took a step back. And then another.

Vlad didn’t say anything.

Danny ducked behind a waiter carrying a tray through a swinging door. The waiter continued immediately through another swinging door on the left, leaving Danny behind in a short hallway.

The hallway, if it could even be called that considering it only had three doors, had a different flooring than the ballroom and the kitchen and only a single lightbulb dandling naked from the middle of the ceiling. It gave the impression of a forgotten space. If Danny had to guess, he would say they did an addition to the Hotel and this spot was too awkward a size to be incorporated correctly.

The light and chatter coming from beneath the kitchen door was enough to keep the weird hallway from seeming creepy though.

“Darren, Are those crudités ready? Mrs. Warren is on a warpath tonight.” A ringing voice cut over the sounds of dishes and water.

“Yeah, an’ Poison Ivy likes plants.” Someone else snarked and a chorus of easy laughter followed.

Danny couldn’t help but lean towards the sound. He could feel the happy -friendship- contentment of the people inside. They must be close. Maybe the caterers were a family business? He could see a sliver of the kitchen floor through the gap under the door, white tile flecked with gray and stainless-steel appliances.

“Ah come on chef! If she wasn’t upset about the hor’ dours she’d be barkin’ about somethin’ else.”

“He’s right you know. She had Mare change the linens on the Banquet table four times.”

“Yeah! An she made Terry throw out that whole crate of champagne this mornin because she thought it looked too cloudy.”

The voices started to overlap as the conversation split.

“Yeah its almost ready I’m just adding the vinaigrette-“

“I heard that Mrs. Warren threatened to file for divorce if he wouldn’t let her get the ice imported from Sweden.”

“I thought he was just stressed out because it’s the anniversary of the chandelier incident.”

“I heard from one of the girls in housekeeping that-“

“It wasn’t Sweden it was Ontario.”

“Stress? With how much weight he’s been losing and the hair loss? He has cancer or something and they’re covering it up.”

“What were you doing with the girls from housekeeping?”

“It wasn’t Ice, she threatened to divorce him if he didn’t buy her that new car. The one that matches her pink driving gloves!”

“Ontario, like Canada? Why would she want ice from Canada?

“Darren I’m serious!”

“Look we’re just friends- it doesn’t matter the point is-”

“You can’t just suggest that people are hiding cancer!”

“They got in a huge fight last week; Mr. Warner got a room upstairs because she won’t let him stay in the house.”

“I thought Ontario was in Oregon?”

“That was what I was going to say-! not the Ontario thing.”

“The party almost didn’t happen this year.”

“Darren, I swear to god if you are not out that door with food on your tray in ten seconds you will be out on your ass looking for a new job in ten minutes!”

There was a chorus of oooohhhs from the kitchen that sounded exactly like when someone got sent to the Principal’s office in Danny’s class.

“I’m going! Jeez.”

Danny started when he saw the gleaming tray moving towards him. He’d almost forgotten that he was eavesdropping, nose nearly pressed against the door. He scrambled to his feet, backing into the opposite wall.

The kitchen door swung towards him, and Danny slipped through the third door in the weird little hallway before he could be spotted.

Instead of the little maintenance room Danny had expected to find himself in, he was in a passageway?

Danny couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. It really was just like those servants’ passageways they had in really old castles, so they never had to look at the maids or whatever.

Was The Warner that old?

Honestly Danny had no idea.

There was a chute to the right labelled Laundry but otherwise the walls were bare from the door Danny walked through until the end where a small elevator “for authorized use only” resided.

Something tugged at Danny, and he perked up, it was an indistinct sad- melancholy- defeated. It made him immediately think of a forgotten grave.

How likely was it that the hotel was built on a grave? Well this was Gotham.

He eyed the ancient elevator.

More importantly, what were the odds of someone hearing him if he started this up?

The elevator was surprisingly silent as it descended towards the sub-basement. Whatever the Warners were paying their maintenance team was clearly not enough.

The elevator doors opened onto a brightly lit corridor with a barely there ding.

Danny blinked at the florescent lights, eyes adjusting.

He was in a corridor, there were about a dozen doors set equal distance apart and another at the end. Despite the bright lights and surprising cleanliness, the corridor felt eerie and wrong, like walking into school in the middle of the day and finding it empty or an abandoned hospital.

Danny trailed a hand over the wall as he walked down the corridor. The emotion he felt earlier was gone now. Maybe it wasn’t a grave after all. He had only sensed some emotion after all. It could have come from a guest in the hotel or even farther. The corrupted ectoplasm in Gotham could probably carry them for miles.

Danny opened the closest door idly; it was filled with dark shapes hidden under protective white sheets. He lifted the corner of one to reveal a deep mahogany dresser.

The second door revealed a scene similar to the first, the third however was different. The third door barely opened, and Danny had to push against it hard to shove whatever was on the other side out of the way. Like the other two this room was filled with furniture but unlike the others these were not placed here with care. The furniture in here was broken and scratched, thrown together haphazardly and stacked to the ceiling as if whoever was moving them just cared that they were out of the way.

Maybe they ran out of storage space and got frustrated?

Danny’s hypothesis was proven incorrect when he opened the other doors. Every other door in the corridor, except for the one at the end was completely identical and empty. They had smooth concrete walls and a large grate for drainage in the middle.

There was nothing sinister about the rooms. No suspicious stains or creepy chains but something made the hairs on his arm stand on end. Something was wrong here. This place was wrong.

Suddenly Danny wanted to leave. Even listening to Vlad talk about football was better than this place. This wasn’t a fun adventure anymore.

Danny was halfway to the elevator when he heard a soft metallic clanging noise and detoured into the closest room to hide. It was the one with the haphazard furniture and he tucked himself into a giant wardrobe, leaving both doors cracked so he could hear and see a sliver of corridor.  

He carefully avoided disturbing the ancient coats still hanging on their velvet hangers as he peered through the crack.

There was a muffled thump like something or someone falling a short distance. Then a pair of light footsteps almost too quiet for even Danny to hear.

Did someone break in? Ancients, that was just Danny’s luck, wasn’t it!

A set of hinges gave a quiet protest as a door opened further down the hall.

“I’m not seeing anything O, are you sure the interference is coming from down here?” A familiar voice spoke.

Where did Danny know that voice from?

The footsteps got closer, and he heard the sounds of a few other doors being opened and closed.

“No, I guess not.” The voice sighed.

Then the door to Danny’s hiding room opened. He took a step back behind the coats in the wardrobe. It was okay, everything was okay.

Danny jumped, nearly hitting his head on the back of the wardrobe as a loud clang echoed, reverberating through the floor.

“What was that? Shit someone is here.” The voice whispered.

Then to Danny’s horror Nightwing climbed into his wardrobe.

Danny pressed himself harder against the back of the wardrobe, not even breathing as he stared at those broad shoulders in the spot he had previously occupied.

Fucking Clockwork!

What were the odds Danny would find himself the witness to Nightwing witnessing a break in?!

The sound of a small group echoed through the hallway. Where had they gotten in? Nightwing he understood, the guy must’ve crawled through the vents but a group couldn’t have done that.

Why would anyone break in down here anyways? Why was Nightwing down here? Hell, why was Danny even down here?

Ancients! He wished he could turn invisible and melt right through the wall right now.

After what felt like an eternity Nightwing finally slipped out of his wardrobe.

The other group must have left.

“O, did you get all that?” Nightwing asked. “Looks like we might see some action tonight team. Be on the look out for anything suspicious. Suspects are Riddler and Clayface.”

Nightwing’s footsteps barely made a sound as he poked around the abandoned basement again.

“I think they were just using it as a way to get in- No I don’t think so. Maybe an inside job?” Nightwing’s voice faded as he walked farther away.

Thank you! Finally, something was going right!

Na Na nana Na nana

And he jinxed it.

Danny shoved his phone physically through his chest in his haste to stop anymore of the Ghost Busters theme song from reverberating through the previously quiet basement.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was so close.

“Did you hear that? No, it was like… music?” NIghtwing’s shadow fell across the front of the wardrobe.

Danny closed his eyes as hard as he could, waiting for Nightwing to open it, waiting to be discovered.

“WHAT?”

Danny’s heart physically skipped a beat.

“I’m on my way.”

Then to Danny’s surprise and delight, Nightwing left. Judging by the sound of his retreat he climbed back into his vent and shimmied away.

Danny didn’t move, still waiting. Was that enough of his powers to give himself away to the other ghosts in Gotham? He couldn’t be sure. His body didn’t produce very much in human form but when he used his powers it was enough to turn his eyes green.

Slowly, Danny checked his phone. It was a text from Vlad.

Fruitloop: Where are you?

Fruitloop: You promised you would mingle tonight.

Fruitloop: Daniel. This is important.

Danny tried to ignore the guilt that ate at his conscience. He was not feeling bad for Vlad. Right?

Either way it would be best if he got out of here as soon as possible. Danny sprinted to the elevator and crept back through the creepy passageway which seemed almost inviting after the sub-basement. 

The Ballroom was full to the brim with socialites and their children now. Part of him was tempted to find Sam and Valerie instead of Vlad. But his ghost sense went off just as he was re-entering the Ballroom, and Vlad made a beeline for him.

Danny almost ran into a woman in a blue ball gown who stepped in front of him carrying a maintenance ladder?

“Patty! Will you please put that away!” Charles Warner hissed as he followed her. “We have guests!”

“I am almost done dear; I just have to fix one more streamer.” She answered in an imperious tone. “Honestly! Can you believe how sloppy this looks? I would think a five-year-old hung these if I didn’t see the fools doing it wrong.”

 “Daniel, there you are. I have been looking all over for you.” Vlad grabbed onto Danny’s shoulder, pulling him along.

Danny had almost forgotten about Vlad.

“This is my nephew, Daniel. Daniel this is-“

“Bruce Wayne.” Danny whispered as he came face to face with The Batman.

Chapter Text

“Got anything for me tonight, Barbie?”

“That depends,” Barbara teased, rolling her eyes at the nickname. “Are you gonna behave tonight, Helmet Boy?”

Jason groaned dramatically and the speaker crackled in her ear. Maybe it was time to harass him about letting her upgrade his equipment, or at least his microphone, it should have been clearer than that.

“For you?” Jason asked, dropping his voice into an over-the-top sultry tone, “Babygirl, I am always good.”

“Yeah, sure. We’ll go with that.” Barbara snorted.

“You don’t trust me?” Jason asked pretending to be hurt, “After everything we’ve been through together-“

“I seem to remember an incident involving thirty pounds of explosives that suggests trusting you would be a bad idea.” She interrupted.

“That was weeks ago!” Jason complained, “Come on, Oracle, the Big Bad Bat is taking the night off. We don’t have to pretend to be emotionless harbingers of Justice tonight, He’ll never know if we have fun for once.”

Barbara laughed, already booting up her workstation. She had a setup with a whole bank of monitors so she could see everything at once .

“Oh, look at that you can use code names.” Before Jason could give her another sassy response she added, “I’ve got a B&E for you on the east side.”

With the click of a key she sent the relevant information and route to his helmet display.

Jason was surprisingly easy to work with. With the way Bruce complained about him being difficult Barbara had been expecting much worse when The Red Hood joined the Bats. Sometimes Jason still went a little rouge, especially when the Alley kids got caught up with drugs or gangs, but he was doing much better. Besides the tension with Bruce, Jason was honestly doing great. When Bruce went out of town for League or WE business Jason even reminded her of the way he used to be. Before the Joker.

Babs missed the little Robin who followed her around on patrols like an overexcited shadow when she was Batgirl.

With Hood enroute to the robbery, Oracle took a moment to send a message to GCPD. They would send officers to collect the culprits from Hood. Then she patched herself into the security system at The Warner.

Despite Damian’s assurances that he was a civilian, there was something off about Danny Fenton and she was going to find out what it was.

On the surface level the Fenton family was clean, too clean even but as soon as she started digging deeper the discrepancies started to pile up. The first thing she noticed was Danny’s missing medical records. His school records showed they received proof of vaccinations, but she couldn’t find the actual paperwork in their system. The medical records Danny’s GP had on file were also confusing. She found the records for some sort of electrical injury Danny had received a few years ago, probably the one that caused the scarring across his chest, but entire sentences were blacked out including the source of his injury.

When Oracle looked, she found similar smaller discrepancies in the rest of the family, although Danny’s was the worst by far. They all had unexplained injuries and suspicious redactions that she traced back to some Government Agency she had never even heard of. The same agency that was apparently paying for the Fenton parents classified research if the money trail she discovered was any indication.

She set up a program to search for any mention of the GIW in the various international intelligence agency databases they had access to and a separate one to continue sifting and compiling information on Danny while she worked.

Oracle’s computer setup had a wall of screens almost as large as the Batcave so she could see the security footage from The Warner while simultaneously tracking Hood’s route via traffic camera and the camera feed from his helmet. It took years of study, continual upgrades, and generous donations from Bruce to get the old clocktower outfitted for her base of operations but it was worth it. She even had a state of the art satellite (design co-opted from the W.E. Aerospace Department) that scrambled their comm signals.

It didn’t take long for Hood to get to the scene and begin dealing with the robbery, which was good because it looked like a fight might be brewing in the north end of the Bowery.

Her computer pinged when the Wayne’s arrived at The Warner, automatically keeping track of each of them. She watched as they fanned out across the Ballroom, toward their various targets.

“Got anything else for me, O?” Red Hood interrupted her.

“Looks like a fight is breaking out in front of Sergio’s.” Oracle informed him. “At least two handguns and a switchblade.”

“No problem.” Hood responded, already grappling towards the Bowery.

With Jason busy again, Barbara flipped through the security feeds from The Warner. The Ballroom was crowded, but nothing looked out of place. Similarly, the kitchens, front desk, and hallways were clear. Everything looked right except for a weird blur that made the cameras in the sub-basement useless. As far as she could tell the equipment was working fine, it was like the signal was being interrupted.

Oracle patched into Dick’s comm unit.

“I’m getting a weird interference from the cameras in the sub-basement. It could be nothing but given the circumstance and our usual luck…” Oracle trailed off.

“It’s probably not a coincidence.” Dick finished for her. Even through the security cameras he looked disappointed and suddenly she felt guilty.

“I can ask Hood?” Oracle offered.

Dick declined, just like she knew he would and while he changed, she tracked down a map of the ventilation system.

“Be advised:” Oracle informed the rest of the team in the Ballroom. “I’m pulling Wing out for some reconnaissance.”

It was important that everyone else know when one of them was pulled in or out of costume in public. This way they could cover for each other and avoid drawing any attention to whoever was missing.

“No other routes?” Nightwing asked, now fully suited up.

“One main entrance, a service elevator.” Oracle responded regretfully, “I can’t be sure what you’d be walking into with the cameras out though.” She did feel bad about it, although it had been awhile since she had crawled around in a vent her shoulders still ached at the memory of navigating those hot, cramped, claustrophobic, tunnels; and her shoulders had never been as wide as Dick’s were now.

When an alarm sounded, Oracle swiveled to face the police scanner.

“Hood, I’m getting reports of gunshots down Ninth Avenue.”

“On it. You know-“ Hood sounded a bit out of breath as he grappled. “This isn’t exactly what I meant by fun.”

Of course, the night that B wasn’t on the streets would turn out to be a busy one, that’s just vigilante luck for you.

“Aww are you having trouble keeping up Hoodie?” Babs asked in a sugary tone, and Jason barked out a laugh.

“With you Barbie? Never.”

“Names.” She scolded him.

Hood didn’t respond, but she hadn’t really expected him to with how close he was getting to the reports. Just another two blocks.

“Approaching the sub-basement.” Nightwing informed her, and she could see the ventilation grate through his mask feed.

The quick focus changes were the hardest part of being Oracle. She had to be on top of everything, she had to see everything, know everything and she had to do it before anyone else did.

“That vent should let you out in one of the storage rooms.” Oracle instructed Nightwing, “There shouldn’t be anyone downstairs right now but- Shit.” She swore.

The feed from Nightwing’s mask went blurry just like the security footage.

“What? O?”

Oracle flinched at the static that came through with Nightwing’s voice over the comms.

“It looks like whatever is blocking the security footage is affecting our equipment as well. I lost visuals,” She explained. “Audio is still operational but I’m getting some feedback. Keep going, I’ll see if I can boost the signal.”

“Are you sure?” Nightwing sounded confused through the static, “I can wait here if you-“

“I don’t know what's blocking the camera signal, I might not be able to fix it until you find out what's down there.” 

She listened as Nightwing easily unscrewed the vent from the inside and even though she couldn't see it, Barbara could picture the way he dropped headfirst into a handstand and then cartwheeled nearly silently to his feet. The same way he did every time he dropped from a vent since they were kids.

Nightwing crept along the corridor, his breathing even and steady in her ear.

The group wide comm channel let out a crackle of feedback.

“Have any of you located Danny?” Damian asked without preamble.

“Isn’t he in the Ballroom?” Oracle frowned; He should be there with everyone else. She glanced at the security feed, she didn’t see any black haired blue eyed boys obviously acting out of place.

“If he was, I would not have asked.” Damian responded scathingly.

“Give me a minute and I’ll run a scan for his face through the cameras.”

While her program was running the search for Damian, Oracle checked the feed from Hood’s helmet to make sure everything was still going smoothly. The camera feed showed Hood stalking towards a group of armed men. Good, he’d be busy for a while. 

“Danny is not in the Ballroom.” Oracle reported a minute later.

Bruce, Tim, Duke, and Damian were all still in the ballroom. With the exception of Damian they were all busy with their civilian targets. 

“Where is your nephew tonight Vladdie? I was looking forward to meeting him.” Brucie’s obnoxious voice asked for Damian over the line. 

Oracle flipped to Bruce’s personal line so she could hear Masters' response. 

“He’s somewhere around here.” Masters shrugged on the camera feed, “you know how teenagers are. I’m sure he’ll check in soon.”

“I know all about raising teenagers,” Bruce laughed, “They always seem to come up with new ways to surprise me though. Your nephew is around Damian’s age, right?”

Barbara wanted to keep listening, but Nightwing’s distorted voice hissed through her headset in a rushed whisper. 

“What was that?” He asked. 

“Robin, rendezvous with Batman.” Oracle ordered; B was just going to have to keep the kid from going mental while she was busy. “Nightwing. What's going on?”

“Shit. Someone is here.” 

Oracle watched his blurry feed, trying to get some hint of what was happening. She could hear Dick’s breathing pick up but no other signs of distress. 

“Nightwing. I need a sit-rep. What's going on down there? Do you need backup?”

Barbara stared intently at the screen, ears straining and eyes unblinking, for the entire twenty-three seconds it took Dick to respond. 

Nightwing: Hiding. 

Nightwing: No backup. Just wait. 

The messages popped up on her screen one after the other. 

“Message acknowledged. I don't like you down there alone with unknowns while I’m blind though.”

NIghtwing was peering through a doorway? The sliver of light she could see through the blur definitely gave that impression at least. 

“Finally… Get your… up here.” Oracle barely heard the voices in the basement through Nightwing’s mic. There were some shuffling footsteps and the sound of metal scraping against concrete. 

“You… tell me… to do!”

Nightwing: Riddler and Clayface r here

Nightwing: plus a dozen goons?

Nightwing: R and C are fighting.

Nightwing’s messages came in quick succession, while the footsteps got louder.

“Let's just get this job over with already.”

“I am an Actor. An Ar-Teest if you will. I will not rush.”

“I cannot believe I agreed to do this.”

Nightwing: They r getting in the elevator. 

A moment later Nightwing spoke aloud again. 

“O, did you get all that?”

“I think so, I should be able to track them as soon as they exit that elevator.” She was already pulling up all the exits. 

That elevator only had a few stops so it shouldn't be hard. 

“Were they looking for something down there?” She asked. 

“I think they were just using it as a way to get in.” Nightwing murmured. 

“Do you think they had something to do with the cameras being out?” Oracle asked, she hadn’t heard them mention anything about it.

“No, I don't think so.” Wing answered slowly, “Maybe an inside job?”

Nightwing poked around the basement for another minute, looking for the source of the signal. 

“Did you hear that?” He went still. 

“What? Are they coming back?” Oracle asked. 

Why weren’t they exiting the elevator yet? They should have been able to get to any floor by now. 

“No, it was like… music?” 

“Music?” She repeated. “Like from the ballroom?”

Before Nightwing could answer the elevator doors popped open on the third floor. 

“Wing, Riddler is going towards the security office on the third floor. I need you to head him off.” Oracle ordered.

The Warner had four security offices total: One on the ground floor, one just under the penthouse, one on the twelfth floor and one on the third. With all the extra security guards in the Ballroom tonight only the third and ground floor were staffed. 

“...ut?” A string of feedback and Nightwing’s grainy voice responded to her. 

“Wing, Can you hear me?” Oracle looked at the audio signal, it looked like it should be working. “Nightwing come in.”

“I’m….n…..ay” 

What the hell.

It should be working. Everything was green, all her signals were strong.

Green.

There was a green light pooling on her desktop, reflecting on the corner of the screen.  

Oracle froze.

When did that get there? She’d been so busy watching the computer feed and tracking the others she hadn’t even noticed.

It was as if simply acknowledging the light in her mind triggered something. All at once her computer screens, overhead lights, and lamp shut off at the same time.

Barbara could feel as well as hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she stared at her own silhouette on the wall of screens, shadow cast by the eerie green light. With a fortifying breath she swiveled her chair to face it.

oOo

“And of course, the numbers are up by sixteen percent this quarter, a whole seven percent higher than we projected in the planning phase-”

Tim nodded dutifully, resisting the growing urge to down another glass of expensive champagne as Jeremy Manson droned on. Normally Tim had no problem following even the driest of business discussions, he wasn’t a stranger to them after all, but Mr. Manson made the semi-annual shareholders meeting at WE feel like a school pizza party in comparison.

If Tim had known how excessively boring Mr. Manson was, he would have kept Duke with him as a buffer or an escape excuse. But Tim hadn’t known and had suggested, like an idiot, that he and Duke might gather more information if they split up. It made sense at the time; Duke would have an easier time getting the teens from Amity to open up and Tim was better at navigating the social elite. It was a great plan right up until Mr. Manson opened his mouth, now he seemed uninterested in ever closing it again and Tim was starting to get worried he would literally die of boredom.

Right around the point Tim was considering how mad Bruce would be if he set himself on fire right there in the ballroom, someone interrupted their conversation.

“Jeremy, sweetie.” A little old lady with white hair and glasses interrupted Mr. Manson mid- sentence. “Pam was looking for you over by the ice sculpture. She said something about Mike Cogsworth wearing the same ascot as you, I think?” She shrugged while Mr. Manson floundered. “I’m not really sure dear, my hearing isn’t nearly as good as it used to be, you know.”

Jeremy Manson opened and closed his mouth twice like a fish out of water while his face turned red before he finally excused himself.

After scaring her son away, the old woman had introduced herself and Tim found himself embroiled in one of the most interesting conversations he’d had in a long time. Ida call-me-Grandma Manson had probably never been described as boring in her life. She had started her foray into environmental activism in the sixties and was involved with charities across the globe.

When Tim noticed that Ida had a prosthetic arm she smiled and proudly rolled up her sleeve to show it off.

“Alligator bite last year.” She explained cheerily, “Doc had to take the whole arm. Gators aren’t exactly keen on oral hygiene.”

“Crocs either,” Tim quipped without thinking, but thankfully Ida just laughed and didn’t question him about it.

The prosthetic was different from anything he’d seen before. It was made of a shiny dark metal, or maybe it was carbon fiber, and the seams leaked an eerie neon green light. The hand was made of dozens of small plates that shifted, giving the illusion of natural movement from a distance.

Tim wanted to touch it, to tear it apart and piece it back together like an old computer. He wanted to figure out how the prosthetic worked and make it better; it was like a mystery that needed to be solved or an operation that needed to be planned. 

No. Bad Tim. It was weird, but acceptable, to daydream about tearing apart computers. It was downright creepy to do it with someone's arm, even if it was a machine.

“I was on a mourning hike after Harold’s funeral- I do some work with a preserve just south of Bhutran and Harold was my favorite elephant and a friend of many years,” She explained, misinterpreting Tim’s interest. “Anyway, I was taking a solitary hike to give myself a chance to grieve when I heard a group of voices. I thought it was poachers at first, the preserve has had issues with them before, so I followed their trail to check it out. Imagine my surprise when I found a bunch of lost tourists huddled by the side of a swamp with an overturned jeep. So, I introduced myself of course, turns out they’d been stranded for hours already. Their guide broke his leg during their crash into the swamp and was in and out of consciousness.”

Tim gave a low whistle when she paused.

“We’ve had our share of vacation accidents, but that sounds like a nightmare.”

“Yeah, poor folks.” Ida shook her head. “I gave half the group directions to the preserve, and I stayed with the guide and anyone else who couldn’t make the hike while they got help. It wasn’t until almost an hour after they’d left that someone realized they had a satellite phone in the car,” She gave a humorless laugh, “The jeep was over halfway submerged in the swamp by that point, and it started sinking faster when I swung onto it from a vine. I managed to get the phone and we got an emergency chopper to rescue the tour guide, but I must’ve gotten a little too close to one of the Gators pups because one of their Mommas decided to make sure I knew to stay away.” She gestured vaguely at her prosthetic arm, turning it so Tim could see the other side. “Luckily everyone made it out alive in the end. And Nora from the preserve owes me a bottle of moonshine to boot.”

“That’s…” Tim trailed off awkwardly. Amazing? Insane? Unbelievable?

Part of him thought the old lady had to be fucking with him.

“It’s quite the story.” She laughed, “I’m sure you're getting tired of hearing from an old woman though. I meant to save you from Jeremey’s rambling and now here I am talking your ear off.” Ida sighed. “I guess he learned something from his mama after all.”

“No, it was interesting. Really.” Tim assured her. “I must admit I’m curious about your prosthetic though, I hope you don't mind me asking where you got it? We don’t have any prosthetics projects at W.E. as far as I know, so I’m not an expert but I thought we would have heard of something like that on the market.”

Ida smiled and laughed again. 

“Ah, that would be because I didn't exactly buy it.” She said mysteriously with a wink.

“Don't tell me you stole it,” Tim joked, leaning in conspiratorially. “I think the mayor is here tonight and I don't want anyone to think I’m an accessory.”

“No of course not,” Ida assured him. “It’s just a one of a kind. My Granddaughter and her friends made it for a school project.”

“A couple of Highschoolers made it?” Tim asked.

“Three, Sammy and two of her friends. I paid for all the materials of course but the kids did the rest all by themselves.” She explained.

Samantha Manson was one of Danny’s close friends. If he hadn’t been one of the teens constructing the prosthetic, he knew them at least.

“That’s amazing, please tell me they got an A? They deserve it based on aesthetics alone. Do you know what the exterior is made of? And the green light, is that-“

“All I know” Ida interrupted him with a rueful smile, “is that it works a hell of a lot better than anything the doctors had for me.”

Tim had to physically restrain a disappointed sigh.

Ida chuckled and patted his arm with her non robotic hand.

“Sammy, Darling, come over here for a minute.” She called towards a knot of teens a few yards away.

A dark-haired goth girl extricated herself from the group and joined them.

“What’s up Grandma?” The girl, who was in all likelihood Samantha Manson, asked.

Tim could see the brief flash of recognition in her eyes before she turned her full attention to Ida.

“I rescued Tim here,” Ida gestured towards him “from your father and we got to talking about the arm you and your friends made.”

“Rescued is a strong word.” Tim joked, holding a hand out to Samantha, “Hi, I’m Tim Drake-Wayne its nice to meet you.”

“Sam.” She responded giving him a critical look. “Did you ask him about his suit?”

“What?”

“My dad.” Sam clarified. “Molly Winehouse complimented his pocket square at a charity ball last year and he kept her there for almost three hours before she started crying and said she couldn’t listen to him for another second.”

Tim couldn’t hold back from snorting at the mental image. He knew Molly Winehouse, she was a very sweet and reserved woman, exactly the type to worry herself into tears over social etiquette.

“No, business actually.” Tim explained, “I think I could go the next ten years without hearing ‘projected net gains’ again and it would still be too soon.”

Despite obviously knowing who he was Sam didn’t act awed or intimidated the way some people did or even morbidly curious. When Tim brought the conversation back to Ida’s prosthetic arm Sam declared they needed Danny for the conversation and marched away to find him.

Tim and Ida entertained themselves by judging the other socialites while Sam was gone.

Tim was only a little surprised when Sam returned with Danny and Damian in tow.

Other than the clothes Danny looked much the same as he had that night in the watchtower. He had a wide grin and was… flirting? With Damian. Or he was smirking at Damian over his shoulder as Sam dragged him towards them at least.

Damian on the contrary was meeting Danny’s wide smirks with a typical (for him) scowl.

“Danny,” Sam introduced, “Meet Tim Drake Wayne. He had some questions about the prosthetic we built.” She stressed his name.

“Oh- Oh fuck. Tucker is going to kill us.” Danny’s eyes went wide.

“What?” Damian asked, while Sam laughed.

“Sorry,” Danny apologized, looking a bit flustered. “Our best friend,” He gestured towards Sam “Tucker, he’s a big fan of yours.” Danny explained.

“Ahh a tech nerd?” Tim asked.

“Definitely.” “Yes!” Danny and Sam answered at the same time.

“He’d cry if he knew we met you.” Sam continued. “Hey, do you think I could get a selfie to send him?”

“Sam!”

Sam laughed and Tim found himself smiling too. Neither of them was what he’d expected and somehow that made it even better. Despite Sam’s gothic looks and Danny’s association with the dead they were both animated and easy going.

Tim did end up taking a selfie with Sam and watched her gleefully send it to a contact labeled KingTuckt before turning off her phone.

Almost immediately Danny’s phone started making noise.

“Don’t answer that!” Sam demanded, snatching the phone from Danny’s hand to turn it off herself.

“Is that-“ Tim paused, he wasn’t embarrassed exactly but this definitely wasn’t the venue he usually talked about these kinds of things. “Was that the Doomed loading screen music?”

“You play Doomed?” Danny asked with a note of disbelief.

“What Danny means to say,” Sam rolled her eyes as she spoke clearly teasing him. “Is no. It’s the level thirteen Doomed music and he has it set as Tuckers ringtone because they are both giant nerds with nothing better to do than play nineties videogames.”

Doomed hadn’t been popular since before Tim started playing it as a kid although the Titans went through a phase where they played it obsessively for almost six months.

“You are such a hypocr-“ Danny started only to be cut off.

“I never said I didn’t play. I just have better things to do.” Sam insisted.

“What better things? You love playing Doomed with us!”

“Danny, shut up.”

“Why? So you can pretend to be cooler than us?” Danny asked.

“No Danny, shut up. Look.”

The teasing grin slid off Danny's face as he followed her line of sight and Tim turned around to see what they were looking at.

“Is that Poison Ivy?”

For a moment none of them spoke, all staring at the figure.

“It certainly looks like her.” Damian responded evenly, breaking the silence.

Tim had almost forgotten Damian was here with how silent he was during the conversation.

“I suppose it must be her then.” Tim replied in the same tone as Damian, making eye contact with him.

Doctor Isley wasn’t in Gotham right now, she was in South America with Doctor Quinzel.

Tim sent a discrete message to Oracle. He didn’t know how she had missed Clayface pretending to be Poison Ivy of all people but she needed to know. They needed to do something.

“I don’t think so, She certainly looks like Pamela but-“

“Grandma, you know Poison Ivy? And you didn’t tell me!” Sam interrupted her grandmother.

“Of course, Darling, we met at an animal rights rally- oh when was it? Twelve years ago, I think?”

Tim looked from his phone screen to Damian as Ida started to tell them about meeting Ivy. It wasn’t that he was uninterested, in fact under normal circumstances he would have been very interested in hearing the story but as the seconds ticked by and his comm stayed completely silent the heavy feeling in his stomach grew.

Where was O?

Tim only had to endure the building dread for a minute before gunshots began to echo through the room.

Chapter Text

“Robin, rendezvous with Batman.”

Damian bit back a comment about not actually being under Oracle’s command. Robin worked for with Batman.

And maybe Nightwing sometimes… But that was beside the point!

Oracle had no authority to tell Robin what to do. Sure, he might sometimes follow her advice given her unique viewpoint and when necessary for team coordination but that didn’t mean she could just casually order him around.

 He knew he wasn’t actually upset with her though. No, his frustration stemmed from his idiotic siblings.

Why couldn’t they leave him alone for one night?

Damian took his time meeting up with his father, scanning the room as he did, looking for any trace of Danny in the crowd.

He was supposed to be here!

“Damian, champ! We were just talking about you.”

Champ? Really? Did his father think he was five?

Not that Damian would have put up with the nickname at five either, but it certainly would have been more appropriate for a younger child.

“Vladdie, this is my youngest, Damian.” Father continued, wrapping an arm casually around his shoulder.

Damian consciously relaxed into the embrace in a way he knew would look natural to any casual observers.

Masters barely glanced Damian’s way at the introduction.

“Yes it’s very nice to meet-“ Masters cut himself off when his eyes finally landed on Damian, widening almost imperceptibly. He cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“No. I do not believe we have.” Damian replied.

Masters was looking at him like he was a mildly interesting puzzle, like he was trying to place where he’d seen him before. The stare made Damian feel oddly exposed, as if Masters could see past his expensive attire, skin and muscles right down to his bones. If Damian weren’t sure he had never interacted with him as Robin he might have been worried about his secret identity.

“Of course,” Masters expression reverted to his previously unconcerned smile almost too quickly for even Damian to capture the change. “I’m sure I would remember such an introduction. I suppose you look familiar from the tabloids. I don’t read that drivel of course but one cannot escape them all together.”

“Of course.” Damian echoed.  

“Now Bruce,” Masters turned back to his father, looking just as airheaded as the other. “Did you catch the last Packers game?”

Damian ignored them as they started to discuss sporting teams. He’d never cared for watching sports. In the League, when he was a child, Damian enjoyed battle scenarios and occasionally even competitions; but something about the western proclivity for worshipping their athletes while simultaneously removing danger seemed almost sycophantic and the excitement left a metaphorical bad taste in his mouth.

Instead of listening Damian took the opportunity to observe Masters. His body language was relaxed and his tone almost jovial as if he was legitimately passionate about the subject matter. It was a stark contrast to the way he had looked at Damian.

Why though?

Damian was interested in Masters because of his connection to Danny and his past crimes, Masters shouldn’t have any interest in him, certainly not in Damian Wayne. It was possible of course that Masters was simply racist, it wasn’t uncommon especially for people in his age demographic but the look he had given Damian wasn’t one of disgust or distrust.

Although his father looked comfortable and unconcerned Damian could tell the exchange had bothered him as well. Perhaps he would have some insight Damian had missed during their debrief.

“Oh, there he is!”

Damian might have been startled by the sudden change of tone if he was capable of such things, as it was he merely watched as Masters spotted someone in the crowd.

“Daniel, there you are.” Masters chastised, steering a young man by the shoulder to their group. “This is my nephew, Daniel” He introduced. “Daniel this is-“

“Bruce Wayne.” Danny finished for him, looking at Damian’s father with wide eyes.

Danny looked surprised, which wasn’t unusual for someone who was nearly ambushed by the presence of a billionaire. He looked good in his suit, (not as good as he looked in his pajamas) although his hair was still disheveled and there was a damp patch near the back of his collar Damian was sure came from not properly drying his hair. Gotham nights could be chilly, Damian would have to teach him how to dry it properly so he didn’t get too cold. The hand Masters still had on Danny’s shoulder was tight, as if he thought Danny might run off again and yet Danny didn’t move away from it even as he shook Fathers hand.

Damian gave Masters a hard look. Something here wasn’t right. For one Danny wasn’t actually his nephew like he said and for another Masters had called him Daniel.

“The venn diagram of people who want to kill me and call me Daniel is basically a circle”

Surely not. Although Danny had already shown a startling lack of self-preservation he wouldn’t spend time with someone who had tried to kill him before, right? Perhaps it had been one of those statements meant more for dramatic effect than accuracy? And yet something about the way Masters was still gripping Danny’s arm, and the forced edge to Danny’s own smile made Damian feel uneasy.

But then Danny caught sight of Damian and the uncomfortable expression shifted into something closer to excitement. His grin was almost mischievous as he stuck out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Danny.” He introduced himself with the same grin he’d been wearing when he said those words on the Watchtower.

Damian had to smother his own recognition of the gesture; It was almost identical to the moment in their previous meeting down to Danny’s expectant posture. Damian accepted Danny’s hand and immediately noted how cold it was. Perhaps the weather in Gotham was too cold for him, Damian himself preferred warmer climates like where he’d grown up.

“So,” Danny started, and Damian realized he’d once again gotten so caught up in looking at Danny that he’d forgotten to speak. “Do you have a name? or should I just call you mine?”

“Daniel!” Masters chastised immediately while Bruce made a choking noise.

Why on earth would he want to call Damian by his name?

“What?” Danny asked innocently.

“Apologize.” Masters demanded.

“Damian,” he interrupted, ignoring Masters. “My Name is Damian Wayne.”

“Let me guess, your middle name is triangle?”

Damian blinked.

He had already come to terms with the fact that Danny was an idiot but now he had to consider that his soulmate might also be slightly insane.

“Because I am only seeing acute angles.”

What- oh.

Oh.

Danny was trying to flirt with him.

Damian opened his mouth to say something, anything. Instead of the clever response he knew he could come up with given enough time nothing came out. It was like someone was gently squeezing the inside of his chest, filling his head with static. His stomach felt both hollow and impossibly full, like he was soaring through the air a hundred feet from the ground on patrol. His face felt hot and his body off balance.

“Okay.” Damian finally choked out breathlessly.

Idiot! Damian was an imbecile. Danny must think him an absolute fool after that show of eloquence. Damian wasn’t a giggling schoolgirl confronting his crush, he was a vigilante! He was Batman’s partner. He was Robin!

Wait.

That’s when the implications finally hit him. Danny was flirting with him, Damian Wayne.

Why would Danny flirt with Damian Wayne when his soulmate was Robin? Was he uninterested in Robin? That was hardly fair. He didn’t even give Robin a chance! What did Damian Wayne have that Robin didn’t?

Damian stayed silent when his father pulled Masters back into conversation, ignoring Danny’s attempts to engage him. His mind felt cluttered and disorganized in a way it hadn’t since moving to Gotham.  He employed some of the mind clearing techniques he’d been taught in his childhood. An assassin must stay silent and unseen until the optimal moment to strike. They could not be distracted or preoccupied. The only thing that mattered was the mission.

“Hey, Danny!” A young woman Damian recognized as Samantha Manson called out as she approached their group. “Vlad.” She greeted Masters shortly before turning back to Danny. “Grandma needs you, it’s about her arm.”

“Please don’t tell me she broke it dancing again.” Danny stressed the last word as if it was a common occurrence.

Manson snorted as if her grandmother breaking her arm was a humorous memory but shook her head.

“No- or at least not when I left her. Who knows what she’s getting up to now.”

“Well,” Danny began cheerily, “We’d better not leave the Dowager Queen of the cellophane toothpick fortune waiting. Damian?”

“I’d rather you stay here where I can keep an eye on you.” Masters interrupted, giving Danny a stern look before Damian could respond.

“Ahh come on Vladdie, the kids don’t need us ‘cramping their style.’ Let them go.” Bruce laughed in that annoying air headed way he always did at social events and Damian could see Masters barely hide a cringe. “Go ahead Damian.”

Manson took Masters lack of opposition as permission and immediately clamped her hand around Danny’s arm to pull him away.

“Sam this is Damian, Damian this is my friend Sam.” Danny tried to introduce them, still grinning despite the man handling he was being put through.

“Yeah. We’ve met.” Manson responded without breaking her stride. “The Wayne Family Gala five years ago.”

Damian forced himself to focus on her instead of Danny. They had met before. Now that she’d mentioned it he could vaguely remember meeting her. It had been at one of his first events after being deemed safe enough to enter society following his unorthodox upbringing. He had met many people in that year, mostly the parents of children his age trying to encourage advantageous friendships before his reputation had began keeping them at bay. Manson hadn’t been as intolerable as some of the other children, although she had been fairly angry at her mother about her wardrobe if he remembered correctly. That was probably why he didn’t recognize her before. In addition to the five years of growth she looked much more relaxed tonight in her dark makeup and clothes.

Damian silently berated himself for not recognizing her in the photos of Danny he’d looked up. He needed to stop being so distracted. It was just so hard to focus when Danny was looking at him like that.

“Danny. Meet Tim Drake Wayne. He had some questions about the prosthetic we built.”

Ugh. Of course, it was Drake standing with Manson’s grandmother.

“Oh fuck. Tucker is going to kill us.” Danny responded, eyes going wide and surprised.

“What?” Damian asked immediately, already looking for the threat.

“Sorry,” Danny apologized to Damian sincerely before addressing Drake. “Our best friend,” He gestured towards Manson “Tucker, he’s a big fan of yours.”

Ah. An expression rather than an actual threat. Although a threat might have been more welcome than Drake and listening to his drivel. Especially when Danny seemed genuinely excited to meet him. If Damian believed in such superstition, he would think the universe was out to get him. Everything was going wrong.

Jon had advised Damian that he should “just be yourself.” Which was supremely unhelpful advice, and even more so now. Damian couldn’t just be himself. He was rude and abrasive and short tempered. Even if that was not a consideration there was still the issue of Robin.

Why wasn’t Danny waiting for Robin? Was it because he was a vigilante? Danny hadn’t seemed bothered by it when they met before but perhaps with time he had realized how difficult and dangerous it really was. After however long he had spent being forced to serve the Queen of the Infinite Realms it would make sense if Danny was wary of being involved in any more dangerous situations.

Damian pointedly ignored the prying glances Drake kept shooting his way in favor of observing Danny. It may have been illogical but he felt as if the answer to all of his questions were right there in front of him, if only he could see it.

oOo

Like the other Bats, Steph didn’t notice when her comms went out right away. They should have given an alert when the signal was lost, it had happened to her once before when she and Tim fell down an old mining shaft that was lined with something that interrupted the signal. To be honest she hadn’t paid much attention to Tim’s explanation at the time considering the painful way she’d landed. 

There were contingencies for this kind of thing. If their comms lost signal they were supposed to automatically switch to a local channel, connecting from one to the next directly. It was less secure and wouldn’t allow Oracle the kind of control over their channels she usually had, but it was at least something. Or it would be if it was working. 

Unlike some of the other bats Steph didn’t notice when Clayface-Ivy entered the Ballroom. Maybe if she hadn’t been so preoccupied all night, she would have seen Clayface-Ivy walk into the center of the ballroom. Maybe she would have noticed the goons, poorly dressed as security, that positioned themselves around the room. 

As it was, she didn’t notice any of those things, at least not until it was too late. 

When the gunshots rang out she sprinted through the crowd to and exit and made a beeline for the cache of spare suits Bruce (cough paranoid) always stored in a back room of whatever event they were attending. 

Unless he was only expecting Tim and Damian. 

Shit.

She changed directions abruptly. She would have to get her spare suit from the safe house on this block. It would take too long but it was her only option. 

Steph ran as fast as she could towards the safehouse, ducking into alleys and sticking to the shadows in an attempt to stay inconspicuous. The streets were usually empty in the nicer parts of town this late at night. Walking around after dark was asking for trouble and anyone with any sense who could avoid it would. That meant there were less people to see her, but also no crowds to hide her movements in.

The safehouse was only two streets down but on the fourteenth floor. Steph almost cried in frustration when she saw the out of order sign on the elevator.

They all had spare gear stashed around the city for emergencies. The extra suit she had in this safehouse was made up of pieces of the previous version of her current regular Batgirl attire. They were always repairing and replacing pieces of their vigilante gear. The sleeves were a bit stiffer than her new one when she raised her arms above her head and the tread on the shoes were worn down far enough that B insisted she replace them despite their comfort.

Each one of the Bats could suit up in under five minutes, Steph could do it in three minutes and forty seconds on a good day. She didn’t time herself today but if she had to guess she would have put it around the four-minute mark.

Getting back to The Warner was much faster than the run there. One of the many benefits to a grappling gun was speed. Still, by the time she made it to the Ballroom the action was already over. Nightwing was just securing the last of the Riddler's goons.

It was only later when they were debriefing that she found out just how much she’d missed and lamented the fact she hadn’t stayed in civvies.

oOo

Duke wouldn’t say he liked playing hostage, but it didn’t grate on him as badly as it did the others. Maybe because he’d been older when he started hero work, or maybe it was because he lacked the borderline obsessive crime fighting compulsion the other Bats seemed to have. Regardless of the reason he didn’t really mind when he was forced to stay in civvies during the rouge attack, in fact, with hindsight he would come to appreciate the unique position he was in for the ensuing events.

If he had gone to get a suit like Steph he might have ended up missing what was honestly looking like one of the best moments of his life.

At the beginning of the night Tim and him had split up to investigate the Amity Parkers. They’d all been prepped with photos of their targets but even if he hadn’t, Duke wouldn’t have had any trouble picking out the Amity Park residents. Each and every one of them had a weird green aura like he was staring at them through colored glass. When he caught his first glimpse of one he had assumed they were metas but as he saw more and more of the Amity Parkers that seemed less likely. Some of them were more green than others, but even considering that it was unlikely powers would manifest so similarly.

Despite being older than the teens, Duke had an easy time integrating himself into the group. Rather than setting up an elaborate scheme he had simply walked up to the first two teens from Amity he saw and introduced himself. They were already deep in a conversation that was almost an argument about a movie that had come out recently and seemed more than happy to include Duke.

After only a few minutes a girl with dark curly hair that introduced herself as Valerie joined them, explaining that their other friends were dancing.

“Have either of you seen Danny? Sam was looking for him earlier.”

Duke perked up at the mention of Damian’s soulmate. (Those two words still seemed weird in the same sentence. Damian’s soulmate.)

“He’s probably off getting himself into trouble.” Dash, the broad-shouldered blonde shrugged unconcerned.

“Vlad’s gonna flip if he causes another scene.” Valerie responded with an amused smile, like she wouldn’t mind Vlad being upset.

“Oh, look Paulina is back.” Dash pointed across the room to a girl in a sparkly pink dress. “Hey Polly! Over here!”

The girl, Paulina, and her companion made their way over to them.

“I told you to stop calling me that Dash!” Paulina scolded, punching him on the arm.

“Ouch! Polly, be nice. We have company.” Dash pouted, rubbing his arm.

“Hi, I’m Sam and this is my girlfriend, Paulina.” The last girl introduced them rolling her eyes fondly as the two continued to squabble.

“I’m Duke, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He shook her hand automatically, slightly surprised by how strong her grip was.

Sam gave him an assessing look.

“Etiquette lessons kicking in?”

Duke flushed. Bruce had made him take etiquette lessons before his first gala. Tim was more critical than any teacher Duke had in school and had been twice as annoyed at teaching Duke than Duke had been about learning. Safe to say it was not a fond memory for either of them.

Sam snickered at his expression.

“I-“ Sam started.

“Sammy, Darling, come over here for a minute.” A voice interrupted.

“Excuse me,” Sam kissed her girlfriend’s cheek quickly. “I’ll be back.”

“Tell Grandma Manson I said Hi.” Paulina responded absently before turning back to the conversation she’d been having with the other teens.

Paulina and Dash were squabbling in the lighthearted but brutal way that siblings usually did.

“They’re always like this,” Kwan, one of the original teens, mock whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

“Not always, sometimes they’re worse.” Valerie corrected with an eye roll.

Duke laughed. They reminded him a bit of Tim and Steph.

Of all the Amity teens he’d met Sam had the strongest green aura by far although all the teens seemed to be more affected than the adults from Amity Park he’d glanced at other than the one with Bruce. Something about it was reminiscent of the way Jason’s aura flared green when he was having a pit episode except in Jason’s case the light seemed to shine through him. That made sense in a weird way, its not like all the Amity Parkers could have died, come back, and been dunked in a Lazarus pit afterall.

Duke’s powers let him see a lot of different kinds of energy signals. Usually he used them to read electromagnetic signatures, effectively letting him see the shadows of where people or objects had been a few minutes prior and where they would be a few seconds into the future.

He peeked into the future, curious about how the Amity teens auras would look as shadows. He was surprised to find they were brighter than their auras in real time. He watched as they moved and-

Oh. Oh Fuck.

He quickly unlocked the secure app on his phone connected to Oracle and typed out a warning.

Attack incoming!

At least five guys. Maybe more.

Duke waited for Oracle to acknowledge the message, but nothing came. He looked around the room. Tim and Damian were only a few yards away, standing with Sam, an old woman he assumed was Grandma Manson, and a dark haired boy he thought was Danny. He tried to catch Tim’s eye but the other wasn’t looking his way.

Fucking Fuck.

There was nothing he could do. Despite all his powers and training there was nothing he could do but stand by and wait for the sound of gunshots to fill the room.

The crowd of partygoers immediately surged into a mob of pushing and shoving as they tried to escape.

Someone grabbed onto his arm and when he looked it was Valerie. On her other side was Kwan and Dash similarly linked together like a human chain. Sam and Paulina were farther away, pushed back by the crowd but had also grabbed onto one another to stick together.

They were trying to… protect him? Like he was one of them. It didn’t matter to them that they’d just met him or that he was older, they were looking out for him like he was one of their own.

Duke had no choice but to pretend to be just another scared civilian.

When the doors around the ballroom slammed shut the crowd of now hostages were ushered to one side of the room against the wall underneath the high windows that showed off the Gotham Skyline.

He didn’t know where Valerie had gone or even when she had let go of him, but Duke ended up sandwiched between Dash and Kwan near the side closest to the buffet tables.

“Alright you know the drill. Phones and jewelry in the bag!” Riddler announced as two of the goons walked down either side of the line collecting stuff in canvas bags.

Duke frowned. This was a simple robbery? That couldn’t be right. For one, simple was not the Riddler’s M.O. and neither was working with Clayface for that matter. Were they trying to frame Ivy for something?

Duke looked down the line of assembled hostages. Cass and Tim were a few yards away and Bruce was farther down near the other end of the room. It looked like Steph, Damian, and Dick would be playing rescuers tonight.

When the goon got to Duke he dropped his phone in the bag without complaint. He’d get it back when the others swooped in to save the day, his only job right now was to stay under the radar as much as possible.

The chorus of a hyper pop song started playing somewhere down the line and Dash swore from next to him.

“Hang up, Polly.” Dash whispered under his breath.

“Excuse me, I’ve gotta take this.” With a dazzling smile, Paulina held up one hand to the goon in front of her and put her phone up to her ear, “Hello?”

The goon paused for a moment but recovered quickly.

“Excuse me. I don’t think you understand sweetheart, this is a robbery.” The goon sneered in an over-the-top sugary tone like he was explaining something to a toddler.

“Tucker. I’m going to need you to hold for a minute.” Paulina said calmly into her phone, then she looked at the goon and in a tone of ice asked, “What did you just call me?”

“Shit.” Dash swore again and moved like he wanted to do something, but he was too late.

Paulina pulled her arm back and punched the goon squarely in the face, then in a smooth motion that showed way more practice than a simple self-defense course, she stepped forward and kneed him in the crotch while he was still doubled over.

“You bitch!” One of the other goons yelled as he rushed at Paulina in retribution for his hurt companion.

“Don’t touch my fucking Girlfriend!” Sam yelled, elbowing him in the solar plexus.

Dash jumped into the fray without hesitation and Kwan joined a second later.

Less than a minute after Paulina answered the phone nearly all the Amity Park teens were brawling with the Riddler’s goons. Only Danny, who was leaning against the wall unconcernedly, and Valerie, who Duke still didn’t see at all, were absent from the fight.

The group of teens moved in harmony with each other. It would have reminded Duke of the Bats except the teens were fighting dirty. Like way dirtier than even Tim and Steph. Paulina actually bit the Riddler when he got involved in the fight.

“What the hell Fenton? Aren’t you going to help?” Dash called out to Danny as he hit Clayface-Ivy over the head with a folding chair.

“Nah.” Danny responded with an amused grin, offering the other boy a thumbs up. “You’ve got it.”

Duke could only stare. They were all insane; and coming from a Gothamite that was saying something.

Chapter Text

In the chaos directly following the beginning of the rouge attack, Damian expertly slipped away from the party, making it through the doors only seconds before they slammed shut. It was easy after that to grab the spare suit his father had stashed in the hotel for emergencies and shimmy into the ventilation shaft directly above the main ballroom. Robin almost literally ran into Nightwing there as he struggled to navigate the shafts without any guidance. After a brief whispered conversation Nightwing agreed with him that they should proceed to the scene as quickly as possible. Reinforcements would be helpful given the number of hostages but with the comms out and no other way to know if anyone else was coming a swift response would be best.

The two of them crawled to the closest grate and peered through the slats to view the situation unfolding beneath them. Instead of the typical scene they had been expecting with the hostages quietly clumped together while some idiot monologued, there was already a fight happening.

For a split-second Robin thought that one- or multiple- of the other Bats had somehow beaten them to the scene. Then his brain caught up to his eyes. Those weren’t trained vigilantes.; they were teenagers in party clothes that he quickly identified as Danny’s peers. (Although Damian was pleased to note his soulmate had been wise enough to avoid the fray.)  The teenagers obviously had some sort of self-defense training, although it was nowhere near the level Robin had received of course, they possessed a brutal efficiency that he admired. Damian couldn’t help but feel a small burst of pride in Danny for surrounding himself with such an adequate group.  

When Nightwing recovered from his own shock and managed to hinge his dropped jaw the two of them carefully popped the vent cover off their hiding spot and dropped down into the ongoing fight in a show of true Bat dramatics.

The fight was easy and quickly resolved with their assistance. While disarming the last of the criminals Robin took note of the oddity of their situation. It was out of character for both the Riddler and Clayface to attack a party of this caliber for a simple robbery. The Ridler was known for his convoluted schemes and puzzles. Even if they simply needed money for a more ambitious criminal venture this couldn’t be as lucrative as robbing a bank or some such plot. Besides, for what reason would Clayface impersonate Poison Ivy? She was even less likely than the Riddler to be involved in something like this.

While the two vigilantes began restraining the criminals the teens from Amity Park congregated together, praising each other on their fighting prowess and laughing as if they’d just won some sort of game rather than fighting two of Batman’s rouges.

“So, what did I miss?”

Robin whirled around to find Brown, late as always, peering over his shoulder.

“Tt. Nothing of consequence.” He responded shortly, with a disapproving glare. “You are late.”

Nightwing finished securing the last of the Riddler’s goons and joined them.

“Are your comms out too?”

When Brown answered in the affirmative, Nightwing swore.

“Someone should check on Oracle, she should have been able to get the systems back up by now.” Nightwing worried.

“Or at least texted one of us if there was an issue.” Brown added.

“We’ll all go to the clocktower after the GCPD get here.” Nightwing decided.

Robin rolled his eyes under his domino mask. It was ridiculous to wait. Grayson obviously wanted to stick together so neither Brown nor Damian were on their own with the comms out, yet he was still shifting from foot to foot out of anxiety for Gordon. Tactically speaking it wouldn’t make sense for the two of them to remain behind, the less dangerous of the two prospects, while Grayson checked on her though.

“I am completely capable of supervising the prisoners on my own until they arrive.” Robin informed them.

“Are you sure? I know you can but if something happens-“

“Yes. Now go.” Robin insisted.

Nightwing hesitated and then patted him on the shoulder.

“See if you can hang around when commissioner Gordon questions the kids,” Nightwing motioned his head towards the group Danny was once again a part of. “The comms going out, Riddler and Clayface partnering together, the civs jumping in; it’s all too much on top of everything that was already going on tonight. Something about this all feels-“ He paused as if he couldn’t find a word that fit.

“Wrong.” Brown finished for him.

Robin scoffed to himself after they left. Of course, it felt wrong, crimes were wrong.

If Damian had known what was going to happen after his teammates left, he might not have been so annoyed with his older brother’s caution. Paranoia was a trait all of them shared to some extent, and it was warranted on occasion.

oOo

Danny, as a rule, didn’t fight the living. The living were fragile, they were squishy and easily injured in a way that ghosts simply weren’t. A few months after the accident that half killed him, Danny had accidently broken a burglar’s ribs when he caught them breaking into a house during his patrol. After that firsthand experience with the ease humans could be injured, he swore off fighting anyone that was still breathing as much as he possibly could.

Leave the living criminals to the wholly living to deal with.

The Gotham Rouges were not an exception to Danny’s self-imposed rule. He wouldn’t go as far as to say they were harmless, but compared to the threats Danny and the rest of Amity Park regularly dealt with? Well, let’s just say even the Box Ghost would be more of a challenge than some of the more powerful villains in the living world.

So, when the Riddler and the Poison Ivy Cosplayer started rounding them all up as hostages, Danny went along without complaint, content to wait for the local heroes to swoop in to the rescue. Damian had made it out of the ballroom before the doors were sealed so he was actually a little bit excited about the prospect of getting to play damsel in distress when Robin showed up. Danny relinquished his phone, which was still turned off from the selfie incident, to one of the goons in an ill-fitting security uniform when they got to him in the line of hostages.

Tucker was going to be upset when he heard they got taken as hostages without him, especially if they were treated to a bat-rescue. He had an obvious crush on Red Robin although he insisted it was just “professional appreciation” whenever Sam or Danny teased him about it.

Tucker was going to have a field day when if he found out about Danny and Robin.

He smiled to himself as he thought of the possible scenarios where Robin might scoop him up into his arms like a princess. Maybe Danny would be injured and Robin would have to carry him- no that wouldn’t work. Okay maybe there was acid all over the floor or something and Robin had to carry him with his grappling gun (yeah much better) one second he’d be wrapping his strong arms around Danny and the next there would be a rush of wind in his hair as they raced trough the air. Robin’s feet would hit the ground softly, barely making a sound after his years of practice. Robin would hesitate to let him go and their eyes would meet in the silence- shit no that wouldn’t work Robin was wearing a mask.

Danny’s daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of music and he suddenly remembered the ongoing robbery.

In hindsight Danny should have known his classmates wouldn’t just sit by like good little hostages during a rouge attack. As it was, he wasn’t really surprised when Paulina took it upon herself to teach the Riddler’s lackeys some manners or when the others jumped in to help her. He had to force himself not to laugh too loud when the Riddler himself tried to hit Sam, and Paulina retaliated by biting his arm hard enough to draw blood.

It was times like these that made Danny wonder how much of the Amity Park trademark feral response to threats was because of their liminality or a conditioned response to dealing with ghost attacks nearly every day for as long as they had. As far as he could tell almost every resident of Amity was at least a little bit liminal. Frostbite had a few theories about the topic, apparently the town had already had higher levels of ambient ectoplasm than most places in the living realm for decades before the portal even opened. The portal opening might have made it worse, but so could half a dozen other ghost related incidents afterwards. They may never understand exactly why the Amity Park residents were different from humans who grew up near other ecto hotspots or if teenagers were affected so much more than the adults because of their higher exposure to ghost attacks or some other factor all together.  

Danny cheered his classmates on, giving encouragement from the sidelines as they beat the pretend Poison Ivy and Riddler with brutal efficiency.

By the time Robin finally appeared, dropping down from the rafters alongside a stunned looking Nightwing, the situation was mostly taken care of.

Despite his disappointment at not being rescued by Robin, Danny congratulated Sam and the others while the two vigilantes worked on securing the now prisoners.

“I can’t believe you just stood there and watched!” Dash complained, pointing a finger at Danny.

“I wasn’t just watching.” Danny argued. “I was cheering you on. You’re welcome.”

“That is not the same as helpi-“ Dash began to argue back before he was interrupted by Paulina.

“Are you trying to say Cheerleaders aren’t important, Dash?”

“Fenton is not a cheerleader!”

“He does look great in a miniskirt though.” Sam added in with an evil smirk towards Danny.

“Hey!” Danny whined, trying to figure out what he could have done to deserve this. “You promised not to talk about that!”

“Pics or it didn’t happen.”

“Nooooo,” Danny cried halfheartedly, more for dramatic effect than because he really minded.

Batgirl- or was she being called Spoiler again?- came in just as Nightwing was finishing up and made her way to the other two vigilantes. Even from halfway across the room Danny could feel the upset- concern- fear that was practically rolling off her in waves. He watched as the three of them had a brief hushed argument conversation. Eventually Nightwing and Batgirl took off, leaving Robin behind.

Danny turned back to his friends, ignoring his questions.

‘Not my monkeys, not my circus. Not my rogues, not my town.’ He told himself.

Paulina was leaning on Sam; Dash was congratulating Kwan on his takedown of one of the goons. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, they were beginning to yawn around their easy smiles.

Danny looked around the room, searching for Valerie. He wasn’t surprised that she sat out of the rouge fight, but he would have expected her to join them by now.

“Did any of you see where my phone ended up?” Paulina asked, craning her neck to see around Sam.

“Nope.”

“No. I’d call it but I don’t have mine anymore either.” Kwan shrugged in an unconcerned way.

They had all had to replace plenty of phones in the aftermath of ghost attacks over the years. It got so bad eventually that Tucker had made new ones for Sam and Danny that were infused with enough ectoplasm to keep them from dying every time they got a little too close to an ectoblast or going sentient after a few hours in the Ghost Zone. Paulina had just gotten her unofficial team Phantom phone a couple of months ago.

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere.” Dash tried to console Paulina.

“When do you think the cops are gonna show up and give us back our stuff?” Kwan asked the group.

Where the hell was Valerie? Without their phones they wouldn’t be able to contact her. What if something happened?

“It’s Gotham,” Sam sneered, “The cops will probably just take it all and say they never recovered any of it.”

“ACAB.” Paulina agreed immediately.

“Oh man that was a new watch!”

BOOM

A loud sound reverberated through the air, shaking the floor.

Danny glanced towards Robin and the still restrained criminals. Robin shifted into a battle-ready stance automatically.

BOOM

It happened a second time and the lights flickered once before turning off. The room went quiet as if the people gathered were afraid to speak under the weight of darkness.

BOOM

Someone screamed.

The high windows along one side of the room shattered. Sam pushed Paulina to the ground, shielding her girlfriend from the glass that rained down on the bystanders, glinting green in the light filtering through the windows.

Danny recognized the ecto-signature of the ghost before he saw them.

Technus peered into the building. He was wearing a giant battle suit made of pieces of tech he must have collected on the way there. He stepped through one of the now empty windows, knocking loose a few of the bricks with his bulky frame.

What could have made Technus come to Gotham? Dora had been strict with Dannys ex-rouges about causing mayhem in the living world and besides everyone knew how gross Gotham was.

“Bring me the human called Bruce Ween!” Technus demanded in an echoing voice.

For a moment no one even moved. The Gothamites were clearly still processing the sight before them. Then Sam snorted, covering her nose and mouth with one hand to muffle the noise.

“Do you uhm- mean Bruce Wayne?” A tentative voice asked from the crowd.

Technus visibly bristled.

“That is what I said.”

“No, you definitely said Ween.” Sam corrected, her face flushed from pretending not to laugh.

Dash looked at Danny, trying to catch his eye, looking for some sort of direction.

Being the most involved in ghost shenanigans, Danny and Sam were the unofficial experts and leaders during ghost attacks even when they were caught as civilians.

Why would Technus be here to attack Bruce Wayne? He couldn’t just attack Batman without some sort of justification. How would he explain that to Dora? No, he had to be upset enough about something to outweigh logic. But what? What could Bruce have done to anger Technus?

Before Danny could signal the others, before he could tell them to hold off until he knew what was going on Robin jumped forward to attack Technus.

“No!” Danny cried.

He was too late.

Robin passed right through Technus’ intangible form and hit the wall with a soft thump. Danny was relieved when he immediately rolled to his feet, looking uninjured.

“What do we have here?” Technus began, looking at Robin with a dangerous grin.

“Ah- Excuse me.” Mr. Wayne interrupted with a sheepish expression, diverting Technus’ attention back to himself. “I’m actually Bruce Wayne. I’m sure there’s no need to involve anyone else in- whatever this is.”

Damn it. Danny needed to come up with a plan. He needed to do something, and he needed to do it fast. Sam was giving him a look that he was sure was a mirror of his own right now. They needed to get this situation under control before more of the local vigilantes showed up or the Gothamites made things worse.

Valerie must have gotten a message from Tucker about ghost activity, which meant she would be here any minute. The rest of them just needed to keep all the civilians safe until she could get there.

“I’d be happy to give you my secretary’s phone number if you’d like to talk this out over a lunch appointment? On me of course.” Mr. Wayne continued to ramble, obviously trying to keep Technus’ attention off the rest of the room. “Then we can discuss whatever it is I can do for you in a more private setting.”

“Do?” Technus asked in a dangerously quiet tone. “Do?” He repeated getting louder with every word. “This is about what you HAVE ALREADY DONE!” As his voice turned into a shout tech from around the room started to glow, lifting off the ground.

The pieces of floating tech started to converge into groups, fusing together to create half a dozen spider-like robots, each the size of three large men.

“Dash. Kwan. Keep the drones away from the civilians!” Danny ordered. “Paulina, keep the Waynes out of the way. Sam, I need a distraction.”

Danny barely paid attention to the others as they moved into their positions, one of the miniature robots was skuttling towards Robin on its long spindly legs. Robin shifted back into a fighting stance, holding his Katana as if he were about to begin a duel.  Normally Danny would think it was very hot, but right now he didn’t exactly have time to drool.

What was Robin thinking! He wasn’t equipped to fight the ecto infused tech, he didn’t have any ghost training-

Oh shit. Danny was going to have to teach his soulmate how to fight ghosts at some point, wasn’t he?

Danny pushed the thought to the back of his mind. One problem at a time. And right now his problem was saving Robin.

With Technus gallivanting around it was possible that Danny could use his ghost powers for a couple hours without alerting the Gotham ghosts of his presence but there were too many witnesses to get away with it.

This was hardly the first time Danny was caught off guard by a ghost without time or a place to transform. Luckily, nearly all Amity Parkers, including Danny, carried some sort of anti-ghost weaponry. Although maybe luck wasn’t the right word for it considering the years of ghost attacks they’d endured to build the habit.

Already moving towards Robin, Danny pulled a short metal cylinder from his coat pocket and tapped the button on one end four times in quick succession to turn it on. A two and a half foot neon green energy blade burst from the opposite end if the hilt just in time to intercept the spiderbot that was after Robin. Danny hit it twice in a row, first a sharp blow to the side of its head to get its attention and then another harder one to the chest to push it back a few feet.

“I had that-“ Robin began haughtily.

“Your weapons aren’t even gonna touch those things.” Danny interrupted, getting ready to hit the spiderbot again. He stabbed it in between two circuit boards and it made a high-pitched staticky noise as the pieces of tech detached and fell into a glowing pile.

Danny turned to face Robin directly. There was an odd look on his face, like Danny had hurt his feelings but-

Oh.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, Danny could feel the emotions seeping from Robin. He wanted needed to help. It wasn’t exactly the same way as Danny needed to help, it was more prideful and proving, but it was similar enough that Danny could almost see it spelled out on his face. With only the barest hint of hesitation, Danny pushed his own weapon into Robin’s hand.

“Keep the Spiderbot things away from the civilians. I’ll deal with Technus.” Danny motioned towards where Sam was already struggling to keep Technus’ attention. Before Robin could object Danny kept going, “We’ve dealt with him before. Just- please” he pleaded.

Robin looked from Danny to the glowing energy sword.

“Tt. Fine, however I will expect an explanation for all of this later.”

“Later.” Danny agreed.

The sound of an ecto- blaster interrupted their hurried conversation and a burst of green light streaked between them to hit the robot that had begun to reform from its pile of discarded junk.

“Stay in your lane birdboy!” Huntress taunted as she flew over them on her hoverboard and towards Sam. “Leave the ghosties to the professionals.”

Danny motioned towards the once again inanimate pile of tech.

“They won’t stay down permanently until Technus is dealt with. Don’t put your back to them.” Danny instructed.

Robin nodded and swung the energy sword back and forth a few times as if he was getting a feel for it.

Danny maintained his position next to Robin long enough to make sure he knew what he was doing and then he let himself go back to worrying about the rest of the battle.

Everyone was sticking to their assigned tasks. Dash was fighting off another one of the spiderbots with a collapsible Fenton TM creepstick while Kwan corralled some socialites into a more defensible position. Paulina was fighting two with the help of a girl Danny was pretty sure was Cassandra Wayne, with a shout she stabbed one of them through one of its eyes with her high heel. The rest of the school may have thought she was insane when she asked Danny for help reinforcing half a dozen pairs of shoes specifically for fighting ghosts, but you couldn’t argue with success.

Technus normally wasn’t too hard to defeat. Technically speaking, he was in the stronger half of the ghostly population, but he was also predictable, and he gave up easily. In their last fight in Amity, Danny had taken down Technus in less than ten minutes.

Today was different though. For one, Danny was operating as a human. Not having the luxury of his ghost powers was a bit annoying, but not the biggest impediment Danny had to deal with. The other two issues were a bigger problem. While the levels of ectoplasm in Gotham were a little bit weaker than Amity Park they were also charged with a lot of emotion, a lot of very strong negative emotion, which could theoretically boost Technus’ powers. He’d have to be weakened a lot before they could capture him in a thermos. Which was even more problematic because they didn’t have the right equipment to weaken Technus.

In the early days of Danny’s vigilante work Sam, Tucker, and him had used an old copy of Portals XL that they knew had a bug to freeze up Technus’ operating systems. By the time Danny had hung up the metaphorical mask they had standard protocol for a number of Danny’s rouges including Technus. Tucker wrote a special computer virus just for him. Danny didn’t know exactly how it worked, he was more of a hardware guy than software, but Tucker had spent nearly two straight months working on it after school and on weekends before he declared it finished. When uploaded the code shorted out Technus’ systems much like Portals had except it also shifted and changed from moment to moment so Technus couldn’t find a work around. Danny suspected that Tucker had used more than mundane computer skills to create it.

The point is: Danny didn’t have a copy of that program and Tucker was all the way back in Illinois.

Okay, think Danny.

Maybe Val had a copy of the program? She was usually more prepared than him except- no. she would have used it or said something by now. If she still had her phone, she could get in contact with Tucker except that she couldn’t use her civilian phone in front of witnesses and their comms wouldn’t reach all the way to Amity Park, they had relays set up in the ghost zone, but they’d never had to reach that far in the human world.

Danny dove out of the way as a chunk of what he would guess used to be a vending machine crashed into the spot where he’d been standing. He took the brunt of the impact on his shoulder. He was about to get up from his prone position on the floor when he spotted it.

Five feet away, underneath one of the buffet tables, half hidden in the shadow of the tablecloth, was Paulina’s phone. The screen was sporting a thin spiderwebbing crack but underneath that was a clearly visible photo of Tucker on an ongoing call screen.

Jackpot.

Danny slid himself across the floor and snatched the phone, putting it against his ear.

“Oh Tucker, don’t worry about us” Tuckers annoyed voice, badly trying to imitate one of them came through the speaker. “We’re only in the most crime ridden city in the fucking world. We’ll call and check up on-“

“Tucker.” Danny interrupted his tirade. “I need your help.”

“So, now you want to talk to me? What a coincidence that it’s when you need my help instead of twenty minutes ago when I was trying to warn you.” Tucker responded icily.

“Tucker! Please don’t make me get on my knees and beg in the middle of a ghost attack.”

Tucker sighed into the speaker, but when he spoke again the annoyance was gone, and for the moment replaced with a businesslike tone.

“Alright, what are you working with and what do you need?”

Danny looked around the room, hoping that someone had miraculously left a phone cord plugged into the wall somewhere, while he explained his plan to Tucker.

“I can send the code to Paulina’s phone but it’ll fuck up her systems for a minute, so it’ll have to be plugged in already.” Tucker instructed over the clattering of keys in the background.

oOo

Damian was good at multitasking. It was an essential skill for any combat situation, and Damian was amongst the best after all. He was able to admire Danny’s fighting prowess while being attacked by some sort of glowing electronic bug creature. He could appreciate the weapon Danny thrust into his hand while simultaneously fighting said glowing bug creature with it. He was capable of compartmentalizing, shoving all his questions to the back of his mind while he kept track of the fight going on around him.

When the glowing robot thing had first arrived, Robin assumed it was connected to the peculiar rouge attack. He’d thought it must have something to do with the Riddler and Clayface’s anticlimactic attack, however it was starting to seem like just bad timing.

The figure in red, (the vigilante?) had called the creatures they were fighting ghosts. They didn’t seem like any sort of ghosts Damian had met nor heard of, and he had actually met a few before but if they were ghosts it could explain Danny’s involvement with them.

Damian watched as Danny climbed a ladder that had been left out in the ballroom for some reason. From there he leapt towards the chandelier in the center of the room, grabbing onto one of the lowest arms.

Without any sort of verbal coordination as far as Robin could see, Manson and the vigilante advanced on Technus, redoubling the ferocity of their attacks and making him back up towards where Danny was hanging. When Technus was close enough Danny swung off the chandelier, landing gracefully on his back. Danny quickly plugged a phone into one of the many ports covering Technus, and said something that Damian missed into the phone.

 Technus froze almost immediately, his form flickered like an old television set for a moment. In front of Damian the spiderbots were similarly afflicted. Then all at once the tech fell apart, pieces of the giant robot and its miniature minions cascading to the floor and landing in disheveled heaps. In the center of the largest pile, near where Danny had somehow landed on his feet stood a slightly transparent figure in a lab coat.

“No.” It cried, falling to its knees in a dramatic fashion and Robin recognized it as the voice belonging to Technus although some of its mechanical quality was decreased.

Manson strode towards Danny and Technus with purposeful steps, uncapping a large metal thermos. When Danny took a step back, she aimed the opening towards the seemingly distraught ghost. Green light spilled from the interior of the thermos, enveloping Technus. When it faded, he was gone, and Manson recapped the thermos.

Robin waited, not quite believing it was over. After everything that had happened, he wouldn’t be surprised by anything.

“-ink the disturbance is gone.” Nightwing’s voice crackled to life in Robins ear.

“Nightwing, this is Robin. I take it you have located Oracle?” He asked.

“Affirmative,” Nightwing responded. “Be on the lookout for an unidentified hostile. According to O it glows and has some sort of powers that allow it to control technology.”

Robin scoffed.

“I am well aware. The hostile in question has been dealt with.”

Nightwing was silent for a moment and Robin imagined he was speaking to either Brown or Gordon.

“I look forward to hearing that report later. Batgirl is already enroute to your location and I’ll be headed that way momentarily. GCPD should beat us there though. From what I’m seeing on their channels it looks like they were being held up by a jurisdictional dispute. The Feds are interested in our glowing friend.”

“Feds?” Robin repeated feeling thoroughly confused. “But why would they-“

Before Robin could finish his thought, he was interrupted by a shout.

“GIW incoming!” The shout came from one of the teenagers that had been involved with the fighting.

Manson tossed the thermos (Supernatural containment device?) to the vigilante in red who caught and clipped it to her belt.

Half a dozen people who Robin had to assume were the federal agents Nightwing had warned him of burst through the doors followed by a red-faced commissioner Gordon and half of the GCPD.

“Huntress, hand over the ecto-entity.” The one leading the group ordered, looking at her through the sights of his weapon.

“Sorry boys,” The vigilante- Huntress apparently- responded without a hint of remorse, backing away with careful steps. “I totally would, except- oh yeah, I’m actually not a fan of genocide and torture.”

Without giving a warning, the agents fired their weapons on the vigilante.

Chapter Text

 It was only the knowledge that intervening would be worse in the long run and Danny’s complete confidence in Valerie that allowed him to remain still when the GIW opened fire on Red Huntress.

She was fine of course. Valerie, on her worst day, could avoid the GIW with ease. She pulled the hoverboard off her back and tossed it into the air in front of her before leaping onto it to make her dramatic escape with the thermos still safely clipped to her belt.

Sam did not keep quiet. She marched right up to where Agent O was already arguing with a Police Officer and joined in.

“You can’t shoot at people!” Sam shouted.

Danny followed Sam more to protect the bystanders than to protect her.

Now that Red Huntress was gone half of the agents were pointing their weapons warily at the crowd of partygoers as if they expected the socialites to turn feral while the other half watched their leader.

“Under section three point eight of the anti ecto acts the scene of any crime by an ecto entity is under our jurisdiction!” Agent O was arguing passionately.

“That doesn’t mean you can fire on civilians!”

“Vigilantes,” Agent O said the word like it was something dirty. “Choose to put themselves in harm’s way. Red Huntress is a criminal and chose to harbor another criminal’s escape.”

“While vigilantes may choose to put themselves in danger,” The Police Guy argued just as passionately. “You chose to put everyone here in danger- including at least a dozen minors when you ordered your men to discharge their weapons in a crowded room.”

“Do you have any idea how much chaos could be unleashed if even one of those creatures escapes back into our world?” Agent O whispered in a dramatic tone that made Danny cough to avoid laughing. “They wont stop until the universe is devoured. They are evil incarnate. They-“

“Their only weakness is teenagers with glowsticks?” The Police Guy quipped sarcastically, glancing at Danny and Sam.

“Oh great,” Agent O sneered when he spotted them. “If it isn’t Fenton and the Scooby Gang.”

Agent O had been assigned to Amity Park before he moved to a different department, apparently whichever one gets called for ghost attacks in Gotham. So despised was he in Amity in general and Casper high in particular that Danny’s grade had a party when Agent O was reassigned. The whole thing was like a school wide truce and there were no fights or anything.

“Do you mean the Mystery Gang?” Sam asked.

Someone laughed and another voice behind him mock whispered,

“Wait I thought we were Ghost-kateers?”

Danny glanced behind him to see that the others had followed them. Out of those who participated in the fight only the vigilantes were missing and after a brief moment Danny located Robin loitering close enough to listen in but partially hidden by a statue of a goose.

“What brought you to Gotham, Mr. Fenton?” Agent O asked unkindly.

“A plane.” Dany answered flatly, enjoying the way Agent O’s face flushed with anger.

“I don’t care if you are with the federal government.” The Policeman butt in to Danny’s defense, “But you can not question a minor without a guardian present.”

“If you will not allow me to do my job.” Agent O said frostily to the Policeman. “I’m going to have to insist you leave Gordon. As I have said, this is a matter of national security.” Then he whirled around on Danny. “Am I supposed to believe you and your little friends just so happened to be here?” he asked in a tone that clearly conveyed that he didn’t believe it. “Ready to play hero?”

“Friends?” Paulina screeched in horror. “You think I’m friends with those losers!”

“You think Fenton saved the day?” Dash yelled at the same time as Paulina in nearly the same horrified tone.

“Hey!” Danny protested weakly “That seems kinda harsh guys.”

They ignored him of course.

“He barely did anything!” Dash continued. “Me and Kwan were the ones that saved Wayne!”

“Yeah!” Kwan agreed enthusiastically. “We kicked those ghosts’ butts. They were tryin to get Brucie Wayne and we were just like-“ He mimed a karate chop that looked nothing like how they had actually fought the spiderbots.

“Are you kidding?” Sam scoffed. “You barely scratched those things; Paulina and I did all the hard work.”

“To be clear,” Paulina added. “I did not fight those things. I simply charmed the ghost and they surrendered immediately. Also- if we are going with the Mystery Gang, I want to be Velma.”

“Well shit Pauls, I wanted to be Velma!” Dash complained.

As the teens began to each call their member of the mystery gang Agent O began to look more and more angry.

“I call Daphne.” Kwan added.

“Fine. But I get to be Fred!” Paulina gave Sam an apologetic look. “Sorry Babe, you’ll have to be Shaggy.”

“Why can’t I be Shaggy?” Danny whined just to watch the vein in Agent O’s forehead throb a little bit longer.

“You’re definitely Scooby.” Sam and Dash said in unison before looking at each other with twin looks of disgust.

“Okay that’s enough!” Agent O shouted, finally getting fed up with them. “We are taking you all in for questioning.”

“Excuse me.” Vlad cut in, suddenly appearing to Dannys right in that silent way that really drove home the vampire rumors. “I assume you have a warrant to interrogate my godson?” he asked in a honeyed tone. “No? Has he committed a crime I am unaware of? No?”

Agent O took a literal step back at Vlad’s tone. He had met the warm polished Mayor Masters; he had likely never seen how piercing Vlad could get when mad.

Danny just watched on in amusement. It was odd to have Vlad actually defending him for once.

The Policeman, Gordon Agent O had called him, also watched on. Danny wished he had a bucket of popcorn for the two of them to share.

“Destruction of property.” Agent O answered at once. “Hunting ghosts without a license, carrying uninspected ecto-weaponry, colluding with vigilantes-“

“My Godson.” Vlad interrupted, raising his voice above the Agent. “Is well within his rights to defend himself and his classmates from ecto-entities.” Vlad explained icily. “And even if he were not in fear of his life, Daniel and all of his peers are licensed to hunt ghosts in thirty two states- including this one. A fact that you should know, as your office was sent triplicate copies”

If Vlad being helpful for once wasn’t enough of a shock, another surprise defender came out of the woodwork, emboldened by Vlad’s public defense.

“My daughter has the right to a lawyer and will be exercising them if you want to ask her anything else!” Mrs. Manson butted in.

Dash’s dad objected next and then Kwan’s. No one from Amity Park liked the GIW, even Vlad had only ever allied with them for practical reasons instead of any belief or care in their ideals. The average Amity Park resident would rather sit down to a candlelit audit with their local IRS representative than get within spitting distance of one of the guys in white. The GIW caused more property damage than Danny’s parents did, but unlike the Fentons the GIW never felt remorse and even belittled the townsfolk for suggesting they pay for damages.

As the other parents began voicing their own grievances against the GIW Vlad pulled Danny aside.

“Was that really necessary?” Vlad hissed.

“What?” Danny asked innocently, without bothering to lower his voice “Should I have just let him get Bruce Wayne? Aren’t you guys like buddies or something?”

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.” Vlad spat back.

“Do you really want to do this here, Vlad?” Danny asked in a more serious tone. “In front of all these people?”

When Vlad glanced around the room Danny knew that he’d won. Vlad’s borderline obsession over his social status wouldn’t allow him to risk one of the shouting matches he and Danny were famous around Amity for.

“I think you’d better go back to the hotel.” Vlad said flatly and Danny could almost see the internal struggle to tamp down his ghostly qualities as Vlad’s emotions spiked.

Danny glanced towards where Sam and the others were still verbally eviscerating the GIW. At some point the Policeman in charge had whipped out a recording device and a notepad which Agent O spotted and subsequently tried to confiscate.

“I will make sure none of your little friends face any repercussions for this.” Vlad assured Danny, misinterpreting his look. “As long as you stop getting into trouble tonight and go.”

Dannys very core rebelled at the idea of backing down but in the end, he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t very well fight the entire GIW tonight and he could see Dash’s mom trying to collect their coats from the attendant. There wasn’t anything else for him to do and everyone was going to be leaving any minute.

“Fine.” Danny agreed with a sigh. “I swear I’m sleeping in till noon though.”

oOo

To be clear, Robin was not afraid of the agents. In fact, he was quite disdainful of them from the very beginning.

The Federal agents were all dressed in white from head to toe, even their thick soled boots were bright white. Robin would have disliked them simply for their assault on his eyes alone even if they hadn’t proven to be much worse by the end of their first encounter.

When the vigilante, Red Huntress, not so much implied but outrightly stated the agents were committing genocide and they responded with immediate violence Robin’s disdain quickly solidified into the beginnings of hatred. He would have stepped in right then, and perhaps responded in kind, if it were not for the discrete look his father was giving him and the order over the comms that came at almost the same time.  

“Do not engage, Baby Bat.” Richard ordered.

He must have gotten Oracle’s setup of the surveillance cameras back on, or perhaps he had simply accessed Robin’s own mask feed remotely.

Commissioner Gordon was already arguing with the lead agent. His mustache looked bushier than normal because of the way his lip curled back in anger, and his usually levelheaded gaze was blazing with righteous anger. Gordon would likely fill them in on anything important he knew later, but it would be bad if he were seen interacting with Robin right now.

“Let the GCPD handle it from there.” Richard continued. “You’ve done your part, now come home.”

Logically, Robin knew why he was supposed to walk away right now. Vigilantism was a delicate balancing act where one had to weigh the legal wrongs of acting versus the moral wrongs of inaction. Although the Gotham City Police Department had cooperated with all of the bats at one point or another, vigilantes were still technically illegal and getting in the middle of a jurisdictional dispute before gathering intel on an unknown was an easy way to attract the wrong kind of attention.

Robin didn’t argue with Nightwing, but neither did he obey orders strictly speaking. Instead, he let himself fall into the shadow of a nearby statue, watching Danny as the agent who he’d dubbed their leader began to harass him.

Damian was pleased by how quickly the other teens came to Danny’s defense. They may have done so in an unorthodox way, by teasing him, but they effectively shifted some of the attention to themselves. It reminded him of the way Richard would behave childishly and prattle on during interrogations as a tactic of distracting his adversaries.

When Danny was finally extricated from the situation from Masters, Robin followed Danny via rooftop stopping only to snag Danny’s battered cellphone from an evidence bin before anyone could stop him.

Danny was half a block away when Robin caught up to him on the rooftops. Danny walked at a comfortable pace with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

What was that Idiot thinking!

It was one thing to walk around in the middle of the day, but at night? Even around the suburbs you didn’t walk any further than the parking lot after dark and even then, you did so with one eye over your shoulder and a firm grip on your keys.

“Hey assholes.” Red Hood greeted them over the emergency groupwide channel. “Where the fuck is Barbie?”

“Language!” Nightwing chided automatically.

“Please keep your arguments off the emergency channel.” Robin hissed.

“Oh, fuck off, both of you and answer the damn question.” Hood demanded.

Robin wished, not for the first time, that there was a way to mute the emergency channel. Unfortunately, it was impossible to mute partially for that very reason.

On the street below Danny ducked into a side alley and Robin mentally prepared himself for his soulmate to once again do something incredibly idiotic and dangerous.

“Oracle had an incident-“ Nightwing started before raising his voice to continue speaking above Hood, “She’s fine! She’s all good! Just taking a break. Jesus Christ. Anyway, I’m filling in the rest of tonight.”

Danny started climbing the fire escape to the building adjacent to the alley.

“Could you please take this to another channel?” Robin tried again.

Danny neared the roof of the building so Robin ducked into the shadow of an air conditioning unit, letting the darkness hide him from view.

“Why? Are you too busy to listen to us?” Hood teased. “Is wittle wobin on a mission from Batdad?”

“It is a personal matter if you must know.” Robin snapped back, glad it was a warm night and the air conditioner was there to cover the sound of his voice.

Danny had climbed over the lip of the roof. With confident steps he strode towards the rooftop access door. Instead of going in like Robin expected, Danny leaned up against the wall and stared right back at Robin.

“Really?” Hood sneered, “A personal matter?” Then in a more considering tone he tacked on, “If you’re hiding a body, I’m down to help but let’s leave Wing behind- He gets squeamish.”

“Robin, I think you had better come back to the Batcave ASAP.” Nightwing ordered.

Robin wasn’t listening though. He was staring back at Danny.

It wasn’t possible. Danny couldn’t possibly see him from that distance in the dark, and yet Danny was staring right at him. Posture expectant as if he was waiting.

Robin took a step forward and he swore he could see Danny’s lips twitch up into a smile. His next footstep took him out of the shadows and into the moonlight.

Danny didn’t move as Robin made his way to the other roof. He was in a daze, if Damian hadn’t been mind controlled in the past he might have likened it unto that but it was actually a distinctively different experience. He felt like he did at the end of a long battle when his mind was slow with fatigue and his body moved by itself out of habit.

“Robin, I mean it.” Nightwing’s voice warned but he ignored it the same way he was ignoring Hood’s laughter.

Danny looked smug. He looked like he’d somehow won something by forcing Robin to come to him.

Suddenly Robin realized he had no idea what to do or say. He had been trained in a hundred different subjects from martial arts and blacksmithery to advanced mathematics and botany and yet for all that he found himself lost in the situation before him.

“I have your phone.” Robin blurted as he got close.

Robin regretted the words immediately, but dutifully held out the phone. He forgot for a moment in the excitement that he was mad at Danny, but now it came back in full force.

“Oh wow I didn’t even realize I’d left it behind.” Danny giggled as if it was a silly mistake instead of a gross safety oversight on his part, “Thanks- Uhm, are you okay?”

“Yes.” Robin lied evenly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Danny’s brows furrowed and smoothed in quick succession.

“You’re mad.” Danny corrected him confidently. “I don’t understand why- wait, are you mad at me?”

“No.” Robin lied again, much less convincingly.

“You are.” Danny argued. “You’re mad at me! Is it because of Constantine? I really can’t do much else about his case-“

“No.” Robin repeated, “Shut up.”

Danny stopped talking. He just stood there looking so much like a sad puppy that Robin felt guilty for a second before he remembered why he was mad.

“You were flirting with Damian Wayne.” Robin spat.

Danny opened his mouth. Then he closed it again as if he was at a physical loss for words. He didn’t look abashed or guilty on the contrary he was looking at Robin as if he was being nonsensical.

Did Damian misinterpret things? Perhaps Danny hadn’t been flirting afterall and Damian had imagined the whole thing out of wishful thinking.

Then Danny nodded.

“Yeah?” He half said half asked.

“You-don’t like me.” Robin clarified, certain that was the only other explanation.

Except Danny only grew more confused.

“Of course I like you.” Danny insisted. “I didn’t think I was being subtle. I like you a lot actually.”

Robin was vaguely aware of Nightwing and Hood continuing their argument but he ignored them.

“Then why were you flirting with Damian Wayne?” Robin asked, trying not to be distracted by the sudden rush of blood to his face.

“What does that have to do with-“ Danny started to ask before a soft crunch sent both their heads swiveling towards one side of the roof.

Red Hood had barely rolled to his feet before Nightwing landed beside him breathing hard.

“I told you not to-“ Nightwing tried to chastise hi but Hood just spoke right over him.

“Does the little demon brat actually have a little boyfriend?” Hood jeered.

“Hood, go away.” Robin demanded.

Hood didn’t move though, he stayed as stationary as if he’d sprouted roots. He was frozen, and as Robin and Nightwing watched on in horror his helmet began to glow a toxic green that was a sure sign of a pit episode.

Before Robin could warn Danny or more likely push him behind him, Jason spoke.

“Dan?” Jason’s voice was soft, so much different from anything they had ever heard from him during a pit episode that it took a second for Robin to process what he said.

Did Jason… know Danny?

Even if he did, Danny wouldn’t recognize Jason with the helmet and voice modulator. Robin would have chastised Hood for the breech in protocol if he wasn’t already in such a fragile state.

Danny’s eyes shifted to green the same way as they had in the Watchtower and Robin saw Nightwing tense out of the corner of his eye.

Then, proving Damian wrong once again tonight, Danny spoke in a small voice that could only be described as heartbroken.

“Jace?”

Chapter Text

Now.

Jason was cursed.

He knew that because it was the only possible explanation for the hellish week he was having.

First Jason broke his favorite mug, which may not seem like a big deal, but it was one of those custom ones from one of those specialty pottery places where they let you glaze it yourself. He’d put up a fight, years ago when Dick took him as a “brotherly bonding activity” but secretly he’d been sort of pleased to do something so normal and frivolous. After his sort of reconciliation with the family Jason had pilfered it back from the manor and its shattering had felt a lot worse than simple broken pottery.

Then Jason caught a couple of runners from the Girvase Cartel hanging round the Narrows, they’d been trying to get a foothold in Gotham back when Jason first became the Red Hood. Apparently, the duffle bag incident hadn’t scared them off as permanently as he would have liked. He ended up letting them go with a menacing message to take back to their bosses.

Then he heard from Missy that two of the girls went missing. The working girls in the Alley were free to come and go as they pleased but Peach wasn’t the type to leave without saying goodbye and Dixie has a four-year-old at home she wouldn’t have left behind. Worse, these weren’t the first disappearances from the Alley he didn't have any leads on. It hadn't been obvious at first, especially with all the people who came and went on the streets, but the occasional reports of missing persons were starting to look more sinister now as they piled up without even a rumor of a culprit. 

To top it all off Batman and the rest of the aviary assholes were keeping something secret from him and with everything else going on Jason didn’t even have time to investigate.

Jason was an anxious mess, waiting for the next shoe to drop when- oh yeah! the fucking pit got worse. It had been there, simmering under the surface, since the moment he woke up in Nanda Parbat but over the years it had lost some of its edge. Sometimes it waned, the first time the rage cooled for a few weeks he’d foolishly thought- hoped it might be gone for good, but it always came back. This was the worst it had been since he stopped his initial murder spree through Gotham’s underground though. He’d almost forgotten how it felt in the beginning. His chest felt hot and his skin prickled, itching to fight. His vision turned everything green with the slightest provocation and his head filled with an all-encompassing rage. It felt as if he was drowning, like he was buried alive, he wanted to kick and claw his way out, he wanted to cut down everyone in his way and use their corpses in a pile to escape the rolling waves.

Yesterday Jason had finally broken down and decided to call Roy before he did something stupid that he’d probably regret later. Roy was the only person in this world he trusted to listen to him without judgment or disgust. He’d been halfway through dialing Roy’s current number when the other man called him frantically with his own emergency.

Roy switched with his soulmate yesterday and was freaking out about it. Which really just highlighted how shitty this week was.

Jason couldn't tell him about the pit, not while Roy was rambling about his tall, hot, co-ed soulmate. He couldn't make the call about him while Roy needed reassurance for once.

Soulmates could be an intimidating change for anyone and even more so for vigilantes. Even if the girl- woman really- was trustworthy and open minded about their night jobs there was still a lifetime of violence and blood on Roy’s hands that haunted him nearly as much as Jason's past did him.

Jason told Roy the truth, he reassured him that everything would be okay. She was his soulmate. Jason knew that soulmates don't always work out the way they did in romance novels, he wasn't naive, but Roy of all people deserved a happy ending; He deserved someone smart, beautiful, and normal.

Roy was nice and supportive; he was attractive and caring. Anyone would feel lucky to have him as a soulmate. From the sounds of things, they’d switched while Roy was with Lian, but if anything that was a bonus. Lian was one of the sweetest kids in the world, it was impossible not to love her.

It was all going to work out. Roy was going to meet his soulmate sometime in the next month and she was going to love him and Lian.

One big happy fucking family.

Jason was happy for him. Really. He definitely wasn’t still desperately, hopelessly in love with Roy Harper. Nope. Not at all. That would be a little bit pathetic after all these years.

Suffice to say Jason was having a bad week already when he suited up for patrol. He tried to keep things light, to hide the simmering despair and anger under a sarcastic facade the way he knew from experience he could.

Patrol was a shit show. All of the Bats decided to take a personal night for some fucking reason, and no one bothered to tell the criminals. Or maybe they did and that's why Hood had to stop half a dozen in progress muggings before eleven. Every time he turned around there was another. Which was a good outlet for the anger, but it was building inside him, wanting to escape, making it harder to keep from snapping bones beneath his fists.

On the bright side with the bats off who the fuck knows where, tonight was shaping up to be quiet on the comms. Oracle was running some sort of op and kept switching to whatever other channel she had going to help out, so Jason didn't have to put too much effort into his act.

“What's next, O?”

There was no response.

Jason checked to make sure his comm was set to the right channel.

“Oracle? Come in.” 

There was no response. Jason tried the emergency channel and when it didn't work, he tried the direct link to the Watchtower. Nothing worked, his comms were out. 

Great. Just fucking fantastic. 

There was a shout to Jason’s left, and he altered his direction to head towards it. As he got closer, he heard more people screaming in terror. Perched on the edge of a roof, Hood watched the civilians for a moment before approaching. 

At first Jason suspected Crane of being the cause of the mayhem. Gothamites weren’t easily rattled and the terror the civilians were displaying was a little extreme for anything less than fear toxin. None of the civilians showed any other symptoms though, and by the third time Jason heard something about a giant robot he knew something else was going on. Fear toxin caused hallucinations, but they were always different for each person. 

A car crashed into the store front across the street and Hood responded without thinking. After he helped the driver and passenger out of the destroyed car Hood made sure the building was vacant. Then he was distracted by a house fire two streets over, and then a lost child. Every time he turned around there was some new time sensitive crisis.

When Jason finally had a chance to catch his breath he tried his comms again. Oracle didn't answer but the interface showed that two of the others were out in masks. He switched to the group wide emergency channel.

“Hey assholes. What’s going on and where the fuck is Barbie?”

“Language!” Nightwing nagged and Jason had to fight not to pound his head against the wall.

“Please keep your arguments off the emergency channel.” Robin complained.

How was that in any way important right now? Sometimes Jason wanted to grab them by the shoulders and shake until they stopped being so fucking dense. 

“Oh, fuck off, both of you and answer the damn question.”

“Oracle had an incident-“ Nightwing started and Jason felt his heart leap into his throat.

“No-“ Jason started but before he even knew what he was going to say Dick was reassuring him that everything was alright.

 “She’s fine! She’s all good! Just taking a break. Jesus Christ. Anyway, I’m filling in the rest of tonight.”

“Could you please take this to another channel?” Robin whined again.

“Why?” Jason teased, trying to calm his still thundering pulse. “Are you too busy to listen to us? Is wittle wobin on a mission from Batdad?”

“It is a personal matter if you must know.” Robin snapped back viciously, and Jason knew he must have hit a nerve.

Thinking about the kind of trouble he and the other Robins had gotten into around Damians age, Jason pulled up Robin’s tracker info and started grappling towards his location just in case.

“Really? A personal matter?” Jason asked, not really expecting Robin to give anything juicy away, he was too well trained. “If you’re hiding a body, I’m down to help but let’s leave Wing behind- He gets squeamish.”

“Robin, I think you had better come back to the Batcave ASAP.” Nightwing ordered, with a strained note in his voice.

Interesting. Big Bird was trying to keep Jason away from whatever the kid was doing. Maybe there actually was a secret mission from Batman.

Jason couldn’t help but laugh when the kid straight up ignored Dickie

“I have your phone.” Robin word vomited in a very un-robin like way. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Since they were all on the emergency channel Jason heard half of whatever conversation Damian was having. At first it seemed like he was arguing with a civilian, but Damian’s voice sounded off and then Jason heard, 

“You were flirting with Damian Wayne.”

No fucking way.

A wide grin spread across Jason’s face that no one could see under his helmet. This was gold! All of the difficulties of the night were a small price to pay to see the Demon Brat flustered. 

“Then why were you flirting with Damian Wayne?” 

Jason saw DickWing out of the corner of his eye, but it was too late because a second later Jason landed on the roof with a soft crunch. 

The Demon Brat was half in front of someone with dark hair. They abandoned their conversation and looked at Jason.

“I told you not to-“

DickWing tried to grab Jason’s arm but he moved out of the way, closer to the kids.

“Does the little demon brat actually have a little boyfriend?” Jason teased.

“Hood, go away.” Robin demanded but Jason barely heard him.

He had finally seen the other teenager’s face and it was the last person he was expecting to see.

“Dan?”

Time seemed to almost stop for a moment. Jason couldn't breathe, couldn't think over the insistent buzzing that filled his head as the pit reared.

“Jace?”

At the sound of his voice the pit seemed to crumple in his chest.

Danny.

It was Danny.

oOo

Then.

Jason woke up on the ground. He could see enough light through his eyelids to know he'd slept until past dawn, an impressive feat given how loud Gotham’s streets were during the morning rush. They were quiet right now though, almost too peaceful. The only other time Jason had heard the streets so calm had been when he’d gotten stuck downtown during one of Ivy's worse bio attacks. Half the city was evacuated but Jason’s mom hadn’t been in any state to move from their apartment, and he wasn’t going to abandon her.

Mom.

Jason’s eyes snapped open at the thought.

Catherine wasn’t actually his mom. Sheila was. Catherine had loved him at least but Sheila had- she sold him out to the Joker. The Joker killed her just before-

He couldn’t finish that thought, not even in his own mind.

Jason died in that warehouse. Jason was dead. 

Or maybe Batman had rescued him in time and-

No. He had to be dead. Jason didn't know how he knew it, but he did. 

Jason clambered onto his feet, stretching to ready himself for a fight if necessary. His body moved easily without any pain or even the kind of discomfort that came from sleeping on the hard concrete of a back alley, something he was well acquainted with from his time on the streets. He didn’t recognize anything around him, it was a nondescript standard back alley. The only thing that was at all surprising was how clean it was.

If B had come to rescue him, Jason reasoned, he wouldn’t be lying in some strange alley. He’d be in the med bay of the cave with his favorite Wonder Woman blanket and a cup of Alfie’s miracle chicken soup even if the old butler had to carry Jason there himself. 

Jason peaked around the mouth of the alley and was surprised to find he recognized the street. In fact, he recognized the alley now with context. He hadn’t recognized it before, no street in Crime Alley was as clean as everything was now, but he actually knew this particular spot well. It was the same street where, nearly three years ago, he tried to jack the tires off the Batmobile.

For a second Jason expected to see the Batmobile pull up and park right there beside him. He’d read enough books and seen enough movies to know this was some sort of reliving his life kind of thing like in the last Harry Potter book. But nothing happened. After a few minutes of just standing there like an idiot Jason walked down the street.

Jason wasn't really surprised that his afterlife began in an alley. His first life, as Jason Todd had been full of back alleys and violence; His second life as Jason Wayne, as Robin had been similarly afflicted.

The city that wasn’t really Gotham was laid out exactly the same as far as he could tell. It would have been identical if it weren't for the complete lack of other people. Mr. Fulber’s convenience store, Mama D’s Thai restaurant, the thrift store Catherine bought him school shoes at when his started rubbing through on the soles. It was all there. Jason considered checking to see if his old apartment was in not-Gotham too, but he wasn’t sure he could go in. He hadn't been back since Catherine died. Since his mom died. Catherine may not have been the one to actually give birth to him, but she was his mom. She raised him and cared about him, not that bitch Sheila.

Jason wandered around Not Gotham for a while, trying to decide what to do next. He wasn’t hungry, which was another point in favor of his being dead theory. He kept walking for what felt like hours, wandering wherever his feet took him. Past his old elementary school, the street corner he used to beg cigarettes off the working girls, the public library he used to hide from Willis at. He let his mind go blank as he walked, never stopping for more than a few seconds. He should have been tired; he should have needed to rest but he wasn’t, and he didn't.

Was this all there was? Jason knew he’d done some questionable things in his life, but he didn’t think any of them constituted spending eternity in this solitary hell.

Batman would-

Jason stopped walking abruptly.

B would probably think he deserved it. He would probably say that Jason earned a lifetime of solitary confinement for his sins. B never believed Jason; he never took Jason's side.

Jason was surprised at the sudden anger that flooded his thoughts. He’d always been quick to anger but did Batman really deserve-

Yes. Of course he did. This was all B’s fault.

Batman benched him for no fucking reason. He didn’t listen when Jason tried to explain. He didn't believe Jason and in the very end he hadn't even saved Jason’s life.

The city felt like it was pressing in closer to Jason, suffocating him. He was just so angry. 

What kind of asshole picks kids up off the street and promises to keep them safe and then lets them fucking die in a warehouse across the globe?

Jason should have known it was too good to be true. The big house, the warm food, the soft bed. He was too old to believe in miracles.

 What kind of idiot believes in heroes?

Jason’s emotions felt palpable, solid and painful. He wanted to scream, he wanted to punch someone, he wanted to cry.

Why did it hurt so bad? 

Jason opened his eyes. There was a crack in the brickwork less than an inch from his nose. He must have slumped against the wall for support, but he couldn't remember when. He felt hollow and weak now.  

“Dammit Johnny! Just forget about it, let’s go home!”

Jason dived behind an empty dumpster as a woman's voice rang out, all angst over Batman disappearing as quickly as it’d come. The quick switch in emotion made him a little lightheaded. 

So much for being completely alone.

“Just one more, I know it’s around here somewhere.” A masculine voice responded in a placating tone.

From around the side of the dumpster Jason saw a young man with blonde hair and combat boots trudge down the street with a green haired woman in a red jacket trailing after him. The woman had pale blue skin and they both faintly glowed.

“This place gives me the creeps; we can get you a new bike when we go home. You don't even know where in this stupid city Skulker stashed it.”

“A man’s bike is like his child, Babe! I am not leaving without her!”

“Oh, my Ancients Johnny, it's just a damn motorcycle!”

After the couple turned the corner Jason slipped out of his hiding spot and sprinted in the opposite direction. It was instinct that drove him away, as much as he didn’t want to be completely alone, he’d learned not to trust strangers long ago. The couple had looked like young adults, but plenty older than him and although Jason didn't know exactly where he was, he knew how the world worked. On the streets the strong took from the weak, the bigger kids from the little ones. It was survival of the fittest and as much as he loathed to admit it, even just to himself, Jason wasn’t in any position to fight for his spot in the food chain right now. He needed more information, he needed to know how exactly this new world worked.

Jason kept to the shadows in a way that was as much a product of his years on the streets as it was his time as Robin. He knew how to avoid the main roads and stick to the back alleys. How to move through the city without being seen. He just needed to get out of the city, it sounded like there were other people somewhere. He could find them and watch, figure out what he'd need to barter for help in this place.

He was just trying to calculate how long it would take him to walk out of the city when he saw it. A motorcycle lying on its side.

Bingo.

Jason hefted the bike upright and gave it a quick once over. There wasn’t anything leaking from it but depending on how long it had spent on its side the engine might’ve flooded anyways. He knew how to hotwire a bike, or a car too for that matter but it wasn't something you could just do. Even if he had the small bundle of pilfered tools he used to keep wrapped in an old rag in his pants pocket when he was on the streets it would take a minute.

Silently mourning his hands, which had only recently begun to soften from their painful dry and cracked state with the use of all the fancy soaps and lotions Alfie bought, Jason set to work stripping the wire connecting to the starter with his nails.

“You’d better hurry.” A voice behind him said.

When Jason looked up for the source, he saw a kid sitting on a second story fire escape, directly across from him swinging his feet back and forth as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked Jason’s age but had glowing green eyes and hair so white it almost hurt to focus on. The boy was grinning at him in a wild way that made Jason immediately think of the Cheshire cat in Alice and Wonderland. 

“Johnnys gonna be here in-” The boy paused looking at his bare wrist in a pantomime of checking a watch. “Oh, probably about two minutes.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Jason responded, his voice barely soft enough to not be considered a snarl. “I’ll make sure I’m long gone by then.”

“Not if you keep going at that rate you won’t.” The kid replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Unless you’ve got the keys, I don’t really give a fuck what your opinion is.” Jason spat, willing his fingers to move quicker. “I’m gettin out of here, an this is my ticket.”

The kid laughed, a bright half cackling sound that reminded him of Dick, and Jason spared a glance at him. Then he stopped.

Dangling from the kid’s fingers were a set of keys.

Jason looked at him suspiciously. He knew better than to trust some random kid. Especially with the way he’d coincidently shown up in an empty city right next to Jason with exactly the thing he needed.

“Who are you?” Jason asked, not bothering to hide his wariness.

The kid shoved the keys into a pocket and slipped through a gap in the rusted bars, letting himself hang by his fingertips for a moment before dropping to the ground in a way that solidified the cat analogy in Jason’s mind. 

“Hi, I’m Danny.”

Before Jason could decide whether or not to trust Danny his decision was made for him by the sound of familiar voices.

“I am so going to kick Skulker’s ass for this. Why did it have to be fucking Gotham?”

“Not if I get to him first, Babe.”

Jason took a few quick steps towards Danny and grabbed him by the wrist.

“Fine. Let’s get the fuck outta here.” He whispered, already pulling Danny to the bike.

Jason got on first, sitting in front so he could steer, and Danny climbed on behind him without complaint, reaching around Jason to shove the key into the ignition.

The bike started with a cough, spluttering for a second before the engine started fully. Black smoke poured from the exhaust as the oil that leaked into the cylinders started to burn off.

“Hey! What the fu-” Someone started to shout but it was quickly drowned out by the roaring of the engine and the peal of Danny’s laughter. 

Later, Jason would find out that he’d been right about Danny’s appearance not being a coincidence. It wouldn't be a shocking revelation, Danny hadn't tried to hide the fact that he knew exactly who Jason was from the beginning and Jason found that he couldn't be very angry about it. Everyone he ever loved had kept secrets from him. 

Maybe Jason should have been more wary after B basically kicked him to the curb but even from the beginning Danny seemed completely different from B.

Batman was a partner who hadn’t believed Jason.

Bruce was a father who hadn’t saved Jason.

Danny was a stranger who’d helped Jason steal a motorcycle.

After that day it felt like Danny never left Jason alone. For the entire time Jason was dead, Danny was there ready to answer his questions or distract him with a story. Time moved weirdly in the Ghost Zone and as the days blurred together into one stretch of seemingly endless and equally pointless childish adventures their relationship changed as well.

For the third time in his existence Jason found himself in what felt like an entirely new life, as if someone had simply plucked him from his story like the character from a book and then plopped him into a foreign genre he’d never read before. The first time, after Catherine died, leaving Jason alone and homeless had turned out alright in the end but Jason was self-aware enough to know he had escaped the streets more due to luck rather than any particular skill on his part.

The second time, when Bruce adopted Jason, he’d foolishly hoped that Dick would help him ease into all the weird high society crap as well as give him some tips on filling Robins pixie boots, but Dick had been young and angry. Instead of being a mentor, guide, or even a slightly disgruntled older sibling Dick had been Jason's biggest critic. Dick never failed to point out when Jason failed a mission objective or got his cape caught on the edge of a security tape.

Jason knew now that Dick had been haunted by guilt about the way he’d treated him after he died, but back then all he knew was that Dick had no interest in being his brother.

Danny had been the opposite. From the very beginning, Danny was almost annoyingly eager to be around Jason even when he was in a bad mood and tried to purposely pick fights. Danny would just forgive him and move on like nothing happened. 

Jason realized in the first week that Danny didn't really like people changing his name so he made a point to give him a new nickname every day until he ran out of ideas. Danny decided that Jason was acting out because he wanted a nickname of his own and badgered Jason about it constantly in revenge. 

Day by day, between committing petty crimes, sneaking into The Ghost Writer’s library, and whatever else they decided to do for the day Jason started secretly thinking of Danny as his real older brother. For one moment in time- or maybe an eternity- it felt like everything was perfect.

Eight years ago, that peace ended, and Jason's world was thrown into chaos a fourth time, this time without Danny to ease the way.

Eight years ago, Jason woke to blinding pain, splintering wood and suffocating dirt.

Chapter Text

Then.

Danny was late for Homeroom when it happened. It was already the third time he was going to be tardy that week. You’d think with the ability to turn invisible and fly at high speeds, Danny would be more punctual, but he’d been up all night chasing Skulker around Amity. Skulker had gotten ahold of Johnny’s bike somehow and was joyriding all over town. It was a nice break for Danny from being hunted by the other ghost but still unwelcome considering all the property damage and the broken foot Mrs. Schneider was sporting after she was knocked over while crossing the road. Then after that late night, Danny had slept through his alarm. Still, he could’ve made up for his late start if it weren’t for the dumb Box Ghost attacking.

One second Danny was watching the Box Ghost disappear into his thermos with the usual shouted farewell of “Beware!” and mentally preparing himself for Mr. Lancer’s judgmental look when he came in late again, the next he was standing in the center of Clockwork’s workshop, in his clocktower, in the Infinite Realms.

Danny groaned. Why now?

“Is it your turn to lecture me on my responsibilities?” Danny asked, without even bothering to turn around. “Or are we at the intervention stage now? I gotta say, I expected a fuller house for that one.”

“I didn’t bring you here to talk about the coronation.” Clockwork responded in that calm, expressionless way he always seemed to use. “I’m sure you know that I am not permitted to sway the course of the succession. I’d be happy to listen to any of your concerns after our discussion if you’d like a sympathetic ear of course.”

Danny didn’t know that actually, but he didn’t let it distract him.

“Hard pass.” Danny responded shortly before sighing. He turned to face Clockwork with a sarcastic grin, “So what did you want me for then? Oh, let me guess- I skipped breakfast this morning and now the timeline is falling apart because I’m going to hurt Wes’ feelings with a hangry comment in English which is obviously the first step to me becoming an evil supervillain?” Danny asked sarcastically.

“No. Your skipping breakfast will not turn you into a villain, although for your sake I still wish you wouldn't.”

“Oh damn, it’s Wes’ supervillain origin story instead? I didn't see that one coming. He doesn't have any powers, but I guess not all villains do, I mean look at Lex Luthor. That guy definitely has a rich guy evil layer under his mansion, you know?”

Without even addressing Danny’s honestly hilarious, musings Clockwork turned on his heels and floated out of the room.

“Hey!” Danny shouted, jogging a little to catch up with them. “Come on Clocky, send me back! I’m sorry for not taking you seriously or whatever. I’m just exhausted.” Danny admitted. “There have been at least two ghosts to deal with every day for the last month and I have to get to Homeroom before I get another detention for being late.”

“That is one of the things I brought you here to discuss.” Clockwork replied evenly, opening a door and leading Danny into a circular room with an already lit fireplace and two oversized armchairs sitting on either side of a short table laden with a tea set and a plate of those tiny fancy sandwiches that Danny had only ever seen in movies.

“I don’t have time for a tea party and lecture about attendance right now.” Danny argued stubbornly. Even if he committed to skipping school, he couldn’t be away from Amity for very long in case of another ghost attack.

“So long as we remain here, time will not be a hindrance.” Clockwork stated sagely, sitting in one of the chairs.

“What does that even mean?” Danny groaned, not expecting a real answer.

Clockwork often spoke in riddles. Danny was never sure if it was because they were so old or if they did it on purpose just for shits.

“It means,” Clockwork surprised Danny by explaining “That we are not currently residing within the flow of time. I will ensure you are returned to the moment you left when our discussion is complete.”

Danny sat in the other chair, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Fine. Let's discuss then.”

Clockwork didn't speak for three full minutes. Instead, he picked up the plate of sandwiches and wordlessly offered one to Danny, who sent him a glare in answer. Nonplussed, Clockwork poured tea into both cups on the table, placing one in front of Danny and picking the other up to take a drink. It was only after he’d finished half his tea and eaten one of the tiny sandwiches that Clockwork finally spoke.

“I find myself worried about you.” Clockwork said slowly. Before Danny could respond he continued. “I understand your hesitation to take up the crown, however it is clear to more than just myself that this is not sustainable.”

“I fucking knew it!” Danny exploded. “This is a fucking intervention. I told you- I told everyone. I. Will. Not. Do. It. I don't want to be the goddamn Ghost King.”

Less than a week after Danny had defeated Pariah Dark, observants and council members from the King’s Court started harassing him about being crowned. Apparently by sealing Pariah back in the sarcophagus Danny had earned the right to take the throne. After about the hundredth time Danny told them he had zero interest in ever becoming king they finally announced his decision to the rest of the zone. The results were chaotic to say the least. Half a dozen ghosts had decided to pursue the crown themselves, which Danny wouldn't mind except things in the zone were starting to look suspiciously like a civil war. On top of that Danny’s rogues had apparently decided to channel their efforts into annoying Danny in an effort to convince him to change his mind. It didn’t matter how many times Danny told them that he didn’t want to be king, that he wanted to finish high school, that he wanted to go to college and actually live his fucking life. They just wouldn't leave him alone.

“Yes, you made that very clear.” Clockwork agreed. “Calm yourself. I did not bring you here to change your mind. I may have seen a solution to some of your problems.”

Danny gave clockwork a skeptical look, before finally picking up his own tea.

“Fine. I’ll bite. What’ve you got?”

“Not what, who. There is a lost soul forming in Quadrant six between the Forgotten Forest and southern reflection caves.”

Danny frowned but didn’t interrupt. That wasn’t a super safe place for a new lost soul to form but it wasn’t anything that should involve either of them.

“He has a stage three time-displacement and I need someone to look after him for a while.” Clockwork continued, pulling a dark red folder from out of his robes and placing it on the table. “I would like you to take on the task.”

“No.” Danny rejected the idea immediately. “What does that have to do with me? I’m not like a soul guide or anything. I don’t know how to help someone pass on!”

“That is one of the reasons I think you’re not only the best option, but the only one.”

“Can you please drop the riddles for once?”

“There is a possibility- albeit a slim one that he may return to the living.” Clockwork explained flatly, and Danny was to stunned to interrupt. “If he is to be truly resurrected, he will need all the mental fortitude he can muster.”

Danny imagined adding something else to his already packed schedule and he suddenly felt like crying.

“Why me?” Danny asked almost desperately, “Jazz is the one who knows how to help people like that. I’m sure she’d be thrilled. Or-“

“He needs someone who understands what he has been through, and what he will go through in the future.” Clockwork answered, still in the too calm voice that made Danny want to hit them. They motioned towards the folder on the table between them again.

Danny didn’t budge. Clockwork couldn’t guilt Danny by showing him the file if Danny never looked at the file.

“I’m too busy.” Danny insisted. “I can’t just leave Amity. Not right now.”

“I will take care of that. Both of you will be in a self-contained time field. You will be able to interact with the other residents of the Infinite Realms but when you are finished, I will return you to the living realm and you may complete your journey to Home Room.” Clockwork paused, looking into Danny’s eyes in a way that made him feel like the old ghost could see right into his core. “Consider it like a vacation. It will be hard work of course but it would be a chance to step back from your other responsibilities for some time.”

Danny let himself consider it.

“You said this was a solution to my problems. How?”

Clockwork actually considered what he said before they spoke. Their form shifted until he appeared younger than Danny.

“There are certain rules that forbid even concepts as ancient as I from overstepping our bounds. If there were not Fate would already have her way with you- she is not happy with your refusal to heed her call to glory.” Clockwork explained in a high childish voice. “I cannot meddle in anything that does not fall strictly within my purview.”

Danny knew when to read between the lines, especially considering how many times the old man had put him through this before. Somehow doing this mission for Clockwork would put him on the path towards the future that he wanted. He couldn’t see how helping some lost soul was going to change the fate of the Ghost Zone, but Clockwork’s “help” never made sense- until it did.

A stage three-time displacement meant that the lost soul had to be forming more than seven years before or after their physical death, Clockwork was probably allowed to intervene because of the possibility they would return to the world of the living. It would be disastrous if they made it to the living realm and created a paradox or whatever.

Danny finally picked up the file from the table. He knew that Clockwork had him the moment he opened the cover and saw the sad blue eyes of the dead teenager, but Clockwork ran it home anyways.

“Meet Jason Todd, the second Boy Wonder. Killed in action nine years ago, forming as a lost soul in thirty-five minutes.”

It was Robin. Not Danny’s Robin, not any of the ones he had watched on the news or YouTube growing up but the one that had been famously dead for as long as Danny could remember.

“He needs someone who understands what he has been through, and what he will go through in the future.” Clockwork’s words from earlier came back to Danny with a sickening sort of clarity.

Well, you know what they say; dead teen vigilantes gotta stick together.

oOo

When Danny agreed to help, he didn’t realize it meant becoming a fully-fledged soul guide- or accepting the responsibilities that came along with it, but he had already committed and Danny never was one to back down from a challenge.

He had known that soul guides helped people pass on, but knowing in abstract what they do didn’t prepare him for the real thing in the least. In reality their job was so much more than that. They take on the role of mentors, older siblings, and best friends. They are supposed to be a lost soul’s most important advocate. They help however they can to carve out a small space of peace for spirits who are often literally driven to exist by their own suffering.

It was weird. Being a soul guide was simultaneously the easiest and hardest thing Danny had ever done. The work was heavy, especially when they visited some of Jace’s core memories. Those days were dark and suffocating. At the same time, it was somehow the best time of his life. He wasn’t busy fighting ghosts every second of the day and Jason was an easy kid to be around. They spent countless hours relaxing in the library and playing in the woods around Pariah's keep. For the first time since his death Danny got to experience what being a normal kid was like- or as much as he could while still taking care of Jason.

That first night, after they got away from the Gotham hotspot Danny took Jace back to his haunt. It was an old observatory that had belonged to another ghost ages ago but hadn’t quite faded when its occupant moved on. Remembering how awful it had been in the beginning, Danny explained everything he could to Jason so he wouldn’t have to deal with the same uncertainty Danny had.

Surprisingly, it had been the concept of “Not Gotham” as he called it that perplexed Jason the most.

 “I don’t get it. It’s Gotham but it’s not Gotham. The streets are the same but they’re different, like clean an shit.”

Danny had to think about how to explain it.

“Okay so ghosts are made of emotion. Well ectoplasm but animated and motivated by emotion. Right?”

Jace nodded his head; Danny could tell he still wasn’t really solid on the ectoplasm thing, but it was one of those concepts that’s easier with experience, so he didn’t backtrack.

“Well, Not Gotham and all the stuff is the same way. Basically, everything around us,” Danny gestured to the roof beneath them and the islands in the distance. “The buildings, the stuff in the buildings, even a good portion of the clothes and food are all objects that were seeped in so much emotion that they bled over to our side. When there’s a lot of different emotions in the same place, like a city that’s been around a long time it all kinda solidifies on this side and since they aren’t linked to a particular ghost it just sticks around as long as the emotion. “

“But that must be like- a lot of cities.” Jason objected. “That would make the Infinite Realms like-“

“Infinite?” Danny finished for him with a teasing grin.

Jace’s face flushed and he punched Danny on the arm

“Shut up, asshole.”

It took Danny a while to get used to Jason’s constant swearing. He’d never been one for swearing himself (frustrating conversations with ancient concepts aside) but it only took a few days around Jason to start changing his vocabulary.

Similarly, Jace quickly started picking up some of Danny’s mannerisms. It was sweet, Jason was like the little brother he had never had, but it was also terrifying. What if Danny messed up? What if he disappointed this tiny person who looked up to him?

Danny didn’t know how he’d survive.

So he tried not to think about it.

It was never hard to find something to do in the Ghost Zone. Jason was generally pretty happy to just see more of the Infinite Realms and there were always plenty of people to annoy or convince to play with them.

Children weren’t rare in the Infinite Realms. It was an unfortunate reality of death that children were more likely to hold on past their mortal bodies than adults. Luckily most children move on swiftly, shorter lives are generally quicker to work through but those that don’t move on within their first few weeks almost always remain in the Infinite Realms for centuries.

Ghosts are social creatures and the kids almost inevitably end up separating themselves into little gangs that spend their afterlives playing games to their cores content. Youngblood led one of the three biggest such groups but there were dozens of them at least,

Almost two months after they met each other, Danny and Jason ran into one of those gangs while they were out looking for a waterfall made of ice that Jason read about in a book.

Their leader was called Lindie, a green skinned girl that wore a sparkling crown even though the entire group was in racing gear and perched on bikes. Danny had never met her before, but he had heard enough to recognize her.

The gang challenged them to a race, which ended up evolving into an entire tournament with brackets and different terrain. When one of the ghosts asked for their names to add to the board Jason had casually responded with, “I’m Jace and this is my older brother Dan.”

Danny just rolled his eyes at Jason’s antics.

Jason knew how much Danny hated nicknames, especially that one, but it stopped bothering him so much when it came from Jason. Sure, Jason used the nicknames because they annoyed Danny, but he wanted to annoy Danny because he loved him and that softened the blow. Maybe he was trying to get Danny to give him one back? Danny knew that Jason didn’t like being called Jay because it reminded him too much of his older brother and assumed it applied to all variations.

Danny and Jason were both eliminated from the race before the third round, but they stuck around because they were just having so much fun. So many ghosts in one spot with so many similar feelings almost created a feedback loop with each of them amplifying each other’s excitement. It was an amazing feeling that made Danny want to join the gang on their adventures forever, and he might have if it hadn’t been for Jason. Danny might have been able to abandon his other responsibilities for the promise of an eternity to make up his missed childhood, but he couldn’t abandon Jason, and he didn’t have an eternity.

Jason was already running out of time.

It had only taken a few weeks to realize the real reason Clockwork wanted Danny to be the one to mentor Jason. It wasn’t because Danny was the only one who could help Jason like they had implied.

Jason was already almost ready to move on.

Jason wasn’t like Lindie or Youngblood or any of the other children who stuck around in the Ghost Zone for what seemed like forever. His death had been extremely painful and traumatic, but he didn’t have any issues coming to terms with it like some ghosts did. Jason was mad at his living relatives for the way they had treated him, but it wasn’t the scorching anger that could keep him tethered to the living realm.

Clockwork didn’t want him to help Jason move on, he wanted Danny to hold him back.

oOo

Now.

“Jace?”

Jace. Jace. Jace. Jace Jace Jace JaceJaceJace

Danny’s core was almost physically buzzing. He knew that his eyes must be glowing, but he couldn't care about that right now.

Jason was wearing some sort of helmet so Danny couldn’t see his face, but he could see the ectoplasmic green spilling from slits where his eyes should have been.

A moment later Jason’s emotions slammed into Danny like a freight truck.

Anger. Relief. Anger. Hope. Nostalgia. Anger. Anger. Joy. Fear. Anger.

Danny couldn’t tell which ones were his and which ones were Jason’s. The anger made his already spinning mind feel heavy and dull. He felt suddenly confused like an animal caught frozen in the middle of a busy road.

Shock. Anger. Anxiety.

Danny listed the emotions to himself automatically, a technique that Jazz had once suggested when his empathic ghosty stuff got too big.

Danny couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t remember how to breathe. He opened his mouth- to gasp for air or maybe to say something but all that came out was a stuttered wheeze.

What was he supposed to say?

How did Clockwork expect him to explain this?

Ancients! Danny could already feel Jason’s anger strengthening, pressing up against his core.

Danny looked from Jason to Damian and then did the only thing he possibly could in a situation like this.

He ducked under Jason’s arm, ran three feet towards the edge of the roof and hurled himself off.

oOo

Then.

“He’s going back.”

The words fell flatly out of Danny’s lips, his tone limp as if his mouth was protesting the words.

“I told you it was a possibility.” Clockwork responded and to Danny’s surprise he actually sounded remorseful for once.

“I know. It’s just-“ Danny couldn’t figure out how to explain how he felt.

Clockwork, the bastard, was right. Danny had known from the beginning that Jace might return to the world of the living, he had in fact actively helped make it happen, but he hadn’t really thought about what that meant until now.

Jason was from a different part of the timeline than Danny, his resurrection would take place before they had ever met. Back when Danny was just a clueless little kid.

“How long?” Danny asked finally.

How long until they would meet again? How long until he would see his little brother?

“I can’t tell you that.” Clockwork answered and Danny felt a bubble of panic begin to grow in his chest.

What if something happened to Jason? Danny remembered how awful coming back had been, it wasn’t fair that Jason had to do it alone. What if he forgot about Danny before they met again? Or worse what if they never met again? Danny shouldn’t be able to cross over until his soul guiding was complete but what if one of them were ended before then? Oh Ancients, what if Jason went back to being Robin? Danny didn’t know anything about the Robins after Jason besides what he’d guessed and the stuff he’d seen online. Obviously, the newest Robin was too young to be Jace, but he could have gone back to Batman.

Would he though? Jason still had a lot of resentment for Bruce. Then again, he also craved his father’s approval.

“Danny.” Clockwork was in his elderly form, and it was surprisingly comforting when he put his hands on Danny’s shoulders. “While you do not need to breathe in this form, it would help you calm down.”

Danny tried to focus on his breathing.

“Promise I’ll see him again?” Danny asked, ashamed of the way his voice sounded- like a child pleading for comfort.

They hesitated.

“I promise.” Clockwork’s face twisted in a way that could be interpreted as pity or amusement, but Danny ignored it on purpose.

Someday, somehow, Danny would see Jace again. That was enough for today.

If only because it had to be.

Chapter Text

Catching people before they plummet to their deaths was a bit of a specialty for Nightwing (No, he doesn’t want to talk about that in therapy. Thank you very much.) So, when Danny ran past him and jumped off the building without any sort of gear or support, Dick jumped into action without even thinking about it. Being the closest and reacting the fastest to Danny’s stunt, Dick was only a second behind Danny and yet the teenager seemed to fall faster than him, plummeting too fast for Dick to catch up.

Halfway down, when Dick’s heart was starting to pound in fear for what was coming, Danny grabbed onto the fire escape and in an oddly graceful move that Dick could never seem to replicate later, he flipped over the railing. Danny didn’t remain still for even a moment; he ran to the other side of the fire escape and began to climb down so quickly that Dick would have thought he was falling again if it weren’t for the obviously controlled nature of his descent.

Dick could hear someone behind him, either Hood or Robin but he didn’t look away from Danny long enough to check which.

As soon as Danny hit the ground he started running, sprinting out of the alley and back into the still crowded streets.

For a moment Dick was confused by the crowds until he realized they must still be cleaning up after the ghost attack earlier that night.

The ghost that crashed into the Warner’s Ballroom had first physically crawled out of Oracle’s computer setup in the Gotham clock tower. According to Babs the ghost ranted about them encroaching on his haunt before he started gathering materials for his mech suit thing. Luckily the ghost had left most of Barbara’s equipment alone, seemingly preferring arcade and vending machines from storefronts along his path.

Oracle would probably be putting in double shifts for however long it took to figure out how to keep the ghost from taking over her equipment again, although Dick couldn’t blame her for her paranoia on this one.

Danny ran through the crowds easily, ducking under arms and leaping over small obstacles. Dick tried to follow but the crowd was too dense, and it only got worse when people started to recognize him.

Hood plowed past Dick and after Danny, giving Dick a quick view of the green still pouring from the slits in his helmet. Robin followed half a step behind Hood, focused only on slowing the other.

Dick swore as he fell into the back of the pack. Thinking quickly, he shot his grapple gun off and swung onto a nearby roof. It would be easier to follow them by rooftop, although harder to intervene should violence break out.

Jason looked like he was in the middle of a pit rage, intent on nothing less than hunting his prey.

Why was The Red Hood hunting for Danny?

Hood usually protected children, even in his more intense episodes. Once upon a time, years ago, Tim had triggered Jason’s pit episodes- specifically Tim when he was dressed as Robin. This wasn’t like that though, or at least Dick didn’t think it was.

How did they even know each other? According to all records Danny should be just some teenager from the Midwest, Jason was an ex-vigilante crime lord for fucks sake.

Below him the boys were still dodging through the streets and Dick had to take a second to marvel that they hadn’t caught Danny yet. Jason knew these streets intimately, that Danny could keep ahead of him was nothing short of a miracle. The only reason Damian could follow so close was that he was right on Hood’s heels.

When the three of them were far enough out of the crowd that Dick didn’t have to worry about hitting a civilian, he launched himself across the short distance to the ground. Dick found his target, hitting Jason squarely in the chest and sending them both and Damian tumbling to the ground.

Danny didn’t look back, disappearing into the night before Dick could do anything to stop him.  

Jason shook them off and rolled to his feet. He looked around, searching with pit-green eyes for his target.

“He’s gone Jay.” Dick told him, hoping that Danny’s disappearance would end the pit episode.

Instead of calming him, Jason grew more agitated, he put his hands to his helmet and flexed his fingers as if he wanted to rip out his own hair and then paced back and forth twice- then a third time. He looked like a caged animal, like he wanted to move and run but couldn’t.

Damian ignored the obvious danger and stalked right up to Jason, grabbing his older brother by the wrist like one might a misbehaving child.

“Leave him alone, Todd.” Dami hissed in a deadly tone.

“No.” Jason snapped back just as viciously, and Dick imagined that the light flashed brighter in his fury. “I have been searching for that asshole for the better part of a fucking decade. He is not getting away from me now.”

Dick felt cold and exhausted. He wished that someone else was here to help him, anyone.

Damian snarled and launched himself at Hood. They grappled on the ground for a minute. Hood wasn’t being nearly as violent as he usually was when the pit madness hit but Damian was being doubly so with his soulmate on the line.

“Stop it!” Dick yelled. “This isn’t helping anyone!”

Dick thought maybe he could reason with Jason; it was normally a vein endeavor, but this episode seemed to be different from the other times Dick had seen Jason enthralled by the influence of the pits.

“It’s been a long night. Let’s go back to the cave and talk this out.” Dick tried.

Hood gave a short bark of laughter that was almost an insult in and of itself then in a practiced move that looked deceptively casual he grabbed Robin by the arm and pressed a semi-automatic pistol to the back of his head.

Damian stilled automatically at the sensation and Dick raised his palms in surrender.

“Hood-“ Dick started.

“He won’t do it.” Robin sneered, succeeding in sounding much less frightened than Dick was. 

Dick shared none of Damian’s confidence, but he did relax fractionally when Hood lowered the gun only to press the barrel firmly against the base of Damian’s spine instead, in an obvious threat.

Jason might not be willing to kill Damian tonight, even with the influence of the pit madness but Damian had recovered from a spinal injury before.

“Careful Dickiebird, we don’t want another broken Robin, Do we?” Jason’s voice didn’t sound like his, it was deeper and had an almost crackling quality. It happened when the pit got especially violent.  “I see you again and next time I won’t be threatening anythin.”

Dick tried to smile reassuringly but he imagined it came out closer to a grimace.

Damian was squirming in Hood’s grip like a worm on a hook despite the weapon still aimed at him.

“Come on Jay, you don’t really mean that.” Dick tried to calm him down with a soothing tone. “Why don’t you just put the gun down and we’ll all figure this out together.”

Dick couldn’t help but flinch when his heartfelt plea was punctuated by the firing of Hood’s grappling hook. The extra second it took Dick to switch mental gears was all it took for Hood to lose them in the still crowded streets.

Robin tried to follow Hood even though it was futile, but Dick managed to grab him before he could. The last thing he needed was Robin trying to hunt down Hood tonight.

“I’m going to skin him,” Damian threatened, his voice shaking with barely controlled fury.

Dick took a deep breath and prepared to make another attempt at defusing an emotionally challenged family member tonight.

oOo

“Why didn’t you warn me?” Danny demanded, staring into the smog filled sky.

Clockwork didn’t answer.

Danny had run without thinking. It was all too much. Jason’s emotions still lingered around him, thick and volatile, making Danny’s head spin. The stagnant emotions in Gotham flared, reacting to Danny’s panic. Danny felt too much- he couldn’t think. He just had to go. There were people following him, pursuing him through the streets. He had to escape. Flee. Run. Run RUN.

And run Danny had- until the feeling of being chased had long faded and he couldn’t feel the press of people around him anymore. Then he slowed to a walk and began to think.

How had his night turned into this?

Every time Danny thought he had things under control something else happened to mess things up. It was like he was cursed with bad timing or something. Which is how Danny had ended up blaming the asshole of Time.

If there was anyone who could or would enjoy nudging time just enough to fuck with Danny’s life, it would be Clockwork.

When they didn’t respond to his question Danny scowled.

It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Danny had so many plans both for his eventual reunion for Jason and for his romance with Damian and everything had fallen apart in one night.

Danny was in a small, wooded area, small enough that he could still hear the sounds from the road but set back enough to give him the illusion of privacy. It looked vaguely familiar, it was probably somewhere Danny had visited in Jason’s memories although he couldn’t think where.

Danny thought about searching for Jason after he left the Infinite Realms but with the differences in their timelines it had already been years for Jace. Who was he to interrupt whatever peace Jason had been able to find for himself? Besides, Danny had no idea where to start looking. Danny had kept up with Batman just enough to be certain Jason didn’t go back to being Robin but he hadn’t even considered that Jason might take on a new name or become a crime lord- although maybe that was more for a lack of creativity on Danny’s part because now that he knew Jason was the Red Hood it made complete sense.

Ancients! No wonder Jace was so angry at him. Danny had done everything wrong.

On one side of the little line of trees, opposite the road, was a short stone wall that Danny absently climbed. Something about balancing there, slowly walking with deliberate steps, made it easier to think.  It felt peaceful.

He should have known that Jason would be drawn back to Gotham despite all the bad associations. Danny should have looked for him- or maybe he should have come up with a better plan to save Jace, one that didn’t involve him returning to his original timeline.

“Damnit Clockwork I know you can hear me!” Danny shouted at the sky, not as loud as last time but with just as much outrage. “Are you enjoying this?”

With a small, familiar pop an ectoplasm green paper airplane materialized a foot in front of Danny’s face. Before Danny could grab it, the airplane was snatched up by the breeze and it flew away from the trees and into the darkness on the opposite side of the wall.

Danny reluctantly followed.  He knew what would be written inside the note, what was always in Clockwork’s notes. It would have some cryptic warning or fortune cookie like advice that Danny would have to agonize over for who knows how long- until the “time was right.”

Sometimes Danny hated Clockwork.

The paper airplane had travelled a few yards and landed in a cluster of small shapes that left long shadows across the neat grass. As he approached Danny was surprised to recognize the shapes as gravestones. Normally Danny could sense cemeteries and graveyards for miles but all of the fear and excitement in Gotham tonight blanketed the deeper emotions in the city.

Danny plucked the paper airplane from the grass and unfolded it to read Clockwork’s message.

In this I cannot assist.

Rest assured you need only think back to the beginning when you fear for the end, for all you need has been within you since then. - C.W.

Danny rolled his eyes and folded the paper into a eighths. He was just about to say something snarky to Clockwork again when he finally noticed the grave the note had fallen on. The headstone was in good condition like it was routinely cleaned, and somewhere in Danny’s mind he noted that someone must visit often. The rest of Danny’s mind was busy freaking out again because he knew the name on the headstone.

Jason Peter Todd.

Below the name were the dates of Jason’s birth and first death, as familiar to Danny as his own from the countless hours he’d spent pouring over Jason’s file and later discussing the events with Jason himself.

This was the grave Jason had been buried in, the one he had probably woken in when he was resurrected. The thought of it made Danny feel an odd mixture of pity and jealousy.

Danny had been resurrected almost immediately after his death, so quickly that it had almost been as if Danny hadn’t died at all. Danny never had to deal with the legal or social repercussions of dying the way Jason did, he didn’t have to dig himself out of a grave. Instead, Danny’s death had passed with barely any notice in the living world at all, hardly even acknowledged for years until Jazz had initiated the conversation.

With only a small hesitation Danny let himself fall onto the grass in front of Jason’s headstone. He lay flat on his back and stared into the sky. Danny could feel the emotions from Jason’s grave now. There was some anger there and plenty of grief, but they were stale and overlaid with love- happiness- relief and Danny wondered if whoever visited the grave knew Jason was alive.

If Danny had a grave, he liked to think it would feel something like Jason’s- although hopefully without the anger. Many ghosts felt very strong attachments to the place where their physical bodies were laid to rest and almost all of them were drawn to visit even if they didn’t choose to haunt their burial plot. Danny wished, not for the first time, that the smog and light pollution in Gotham didn’t cover the stars. He knew what the sky should look like, Danny could name a dozen constellations that were above Gotham, invisible to even Danny’s above average eyesight.  

It took longer than Danny thought it would for Jason to show up, instinctually drawn to his grave by Danny’s presence.

Danny didn’t say anything at first, letting Jason take the lead when he heard the soft sound of his footsteps and felt his presence.

Instead of breaking the silence like Danny thought he would, Jason took off his helmet and let it fall into the grass. His eyes were glowing bright enough that it created eerie shadows in the cemetery. Then, still without a word, Jason lay down next to Danny on top of his own grave.

For over a full minute they were both silent.

Jason’s emotions were less volatile than before, and Danny was ready for them, so it was less jarring this time when they pressed up against his core. Jason was a tangled ball of emotion and Danny almost physically itched to help him pull them apart. There was still anger thrumming through Jason but there was also confusion, longing, hope, and joy.

When he couldn’t stand the silence anymore Danny finally spoke.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted.

Jason opened his mouth, and Danny could feel his surprise at the apology.

Danny sat up and turned to look at Jason directly.

“I didn't think you would be in Gotham,” Danny explained, trying to justify himself just a little. “Even if you decided to go back to hero stuff, I didn’t think you would want to be so close to- you know. I didn't know where to look- C.W. wouldn't tell me anything of course. And then well- I thought it’s been so long anyways, and I didn’t want to interrupt your second life or even know if you would remember me so I thought you’d be better off witho-“

Jason interrupted Danny’s word vomit with a hug that Danny couldn’t help but flinch back from at first, Jace felt so angry, but he was still Danny’s little brother, and after only a moment of hesitation he returned the embrace with enthusiasm.

“I missed you.” Jason whispered into Danny’s hair as if he was worried that speaking louder would somehow break the peace in between them.  

“I missed you too.” Danny whispered back.

The hug was different from any of the ones they shared in the Infinite Realms, Jace was taller and more solid now, but to Danny it felt the same. The only thing out of place was the bone deep anger that seemed to boil inside Jason.

“I’m sorry.” Danny repeated.

He knew that it wasn’t enough. He could never apologize enough but Danny didn’t know what else to say. Tears gathered in the corners of Danny’s eyes and Jason gripped him tighter in response.

“No.” Jason shook his head. “Don’t be. Everything is okay now. I can’t believe I finally found you.” He said the last sentence with a tone of awe but Danny knew it was false.

“You don’t have to pretend.” Danny sniffed, feeling guilty about the way his tears must be influencing Jason. “It makes sense that you would be mad at me after everything-“

Jason cut Danny off again, this time by squeezing him so tight that he was unable to finish his sentence.

“I’m not mad at you.” Jace lied.

Danny let himself pretend for exactly twenty seconds. He counted the time in his head, hiding his face against the leather of Jason’s jacket. Then he stepped back and admitted the truth.

“Yes, you are.” Danny told him. “I can feel it, Jason. You’re basically swimming in rage.”

Jason frowned and as Danny watched he could both see and feel the understanding wash over him.

“You can feel the pit madness?” Jace asked.

Pit madness. That couldn’t be good- it sounded familiar. Danny wracked his brains trying to remember where he had heard that term before. Pit Madness.

“Pit?” Danny asked, more to say it out loud than for actual confirmation.

Pit. Madness.

Ancients. Danny felt a spike of adrenaline, of cold fear.

“Please tell me you aren’t talking about a Lazarus Pit.”

Jason looked at Danny with as much horror as Danny was feeling.

“How do you know about the Lazarus pits?” Jason demanded. “Is that why you were hanging around the Demon Brat? If you got mixed up with the League of Assassins, I swear by all the ancients I’ll kick your ass.”

“Who?” Danny asked. “Do you mean the Demon’s Head? I know-“

Jason slapped a hand over Danny’s mouth and looked around the cemetery as if he expected someone to jump out from the shadows. Although, knowing Ra’s Al Ghul it wasn’t a completely unfounded fear.

“Don’t!” Jason warned Danny before releasing him, “and no, although I expect you to explain that to me later, I was talking about the kid.” When Danny continued to stare blankly at Jason he tried again. “You know, Mc-Stabby?”

Danny couldn’t help it. He started laughing. Everything was confusing and complicated and uncertain but maybe that’s what made it all seem so absurd to Danny.

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” Danny wheezed between huffs of laughter.

Jason rolled his eyes, trying to play off the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.

“Let’s get out of here.” Jason said suddenly. “Theres stuff we should talk about.”

Without the prying ears and eyes of whoever might be following them was implied.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Danny agreed.

oOo

“It’s going to be okay. Calm down Babybat.”

Damian made sure Grayson regretted those words.

Damian was Not going to calm down. His soulmate was missing, being pursued by a well-known mass murderer who had been trained by The Batman himself! Damian needed to go find him, save him, rescue him before Hood could do whatever nefarious deeds he had planned for Danny. He did Not need Nightwing to drag him back to the Batcave like an overreacting child.

Danny obviously had history with The Red Hood- or with Jason he supposed. Things must have ended on very bad terms if just the sight of him had sent Jason into a pit rage episode.

Even as Damian came to those conclusions, he knew they didn’t make sense. He couldn’t think of anything that would indicate such a situation in the last few years. Jason had been stable for years, he hadn’t dropped off the Bats radar without an explanation since right after Damian became Robin.

Damian flat out refused to go back to the cave while Hood was hunting Gotham for Danny. He was aware of his siblings making plans to canvass the city, but Damian ignored them in favor of his own search. First, he checked the hotel Danny was staying at as well as those at which his peers were lodging. When that didn’t produce any answers, Damian started checking Hood’s usual haunts. Finding Danny would be better, but finding Hood would serve Damians purposes as well.

“I’ve got Hood on a traffic camera.” Oracle told Damian after what seemed like an eternity of searching. Damian couldn’t recall when she had gotten back on the comms, he must be more tired than he thought. “He’s heading east on MackeBar towards the Bowery.”

“He is mine.” Damian hissed.

“Nightwing and Red Robin are enroute as backup.” Oracle replied calmly. “Hood isn’t alone, he has an unidentified passenger, possibly your-“ She hesitated. “Person of interest. Although they don’t seem to be resisting if Hood is abducting them.”

Damian grappled towards the street, he would double- no triple any pain Todd had caused Danny when he took his revenge on the man.

It wasn’t hard to spot the bike once Damian arrived in the right location. They had turned since Barbara last spotted them, getting closer to crime alley as expected but Todd’s obnoxiously bright helmet was easy to spot under the streetlights. The smaller figure on the back was definitely Danny, Damian couldn’t see their face, but he was completely certain.

What had Todd threatened Danny with to force him to comply?

Damian continued to imagine his revenge as he stalked his prey. Todd would rue the day he had decided to even look at Damian’s soulmate. Todd didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Danny!

After only three short blocks Hood pulled off the main road behind a small Greek restaurant. Damian recognized it as a front for one of the criminal organizations in Gotham although he couldn’t remember which, this part of town was in Red Hood’s territory. Regardless, the restaurant didn’t have any exterior cameras and the alleyway was empty except for the two of them.

Hood had obviously chosen this spot for a confrontation after he spotted Damian tailing him. Instead of rushing in blind the way he wanted to, Damian forced himself to slow down and assess the situation. He used his domino mask lens to zoom in on Hood and Danny on the ground.

Danny looked calm enough, but his face was splotchy and there were faint tracks down his cheeks as if he’d been crying. Danny tried to say something, and Todd shushed him, pointing in the general direction of Damian.

Damian unsheathed his Katana and crept towards the edge of the alley, dropping down onto his feet only a yard from the others.

“Hood step away from Danny.” Damian demanded.

“Don’t tell me what the fuck to do.” Hood snarled back.

“I think there’s a misunderstanding here.” Danny interceded, stepping in between them. “You see I-“

Danny never got to finish his sentence.

The back door to the restaurant banged open, surprising the two vigilantes and almost smacking Danny in the head.

Damian could only see a part of a torn shoulder seam from around Danny but he could hear the way the person in the doorway was panting as if with exertion or pain- and the way they gasped, just as surprised as they were to find them in the alley.

Danny took a step forward closer to the figure, there was another bang and Danny tried to say something but all that came out was a gurgle.

Time almost seemed to speed up for Damian, everything moving too fast for his brain to understand.

Hood raised a weapon and shot the figure three times even as Danny started to fall.

Why was Danny falling?

Damian couldn’t make sense of what was happening, he felt like a bystander. There was a tight feeling in his chest that made it hard for Damian to think.

Jason was shouting and swearing. He kicked the corpse of the man he’d just killed.

Blood seeped across the asphalt from a wound in Danny’s chest, mixing with the dirty puddle of water he had fallen in.

No.

No No NO

Damian fell to his knees. He had medical training, had performed first aid on hundreds of civilians and other heroes alike but he felt out of his depth as he put pressure on the wound. He couldn’t remember what he was supposed to do. A million years of training wouldn’t have been enough to make a difference.

Danny’s blood was already starting to cool down on his skin. Damian tried to convince himself that the bleeding was slowing due to his own ministrations but deep down he knew the truth; It was because Danny’s heart had already stopped.

Danny was gone.

Chapter Text

Danny’s blood turned the dirty rainwater on the ground from grey to a muddy reddish orange. There was more blood on Jason’s face, blood spray from the man who had killed Danny. Usually, Jason’s helmet would block the blood splatter from reaching his skin, but he had left it in the bag on his bike when he and Danny had driven here, not wanting to draw attention to the two of them. 

Robin seemed to be in shock. He was kneeling over Danny and Jason watched as more of Danny’s blood soaked into Robin’s uniform. The sight made Jason feel like laughing- it wasn’t funny but there was so much blood and Jason was reminded vividly of his own Robin costume tattered and bloody in a display case.

It’s just the shock.

Jason must be in shock too, he thought slowly.

Then all at once as if by some unseen trigger, Robin stood and whirled around to face Jason.

“This- This is your fault.” Robin spat, his voice full of hatred.

The ever-stoic Robin had tears running down his cheeks and a line of liquid snot that dripped from his chin down to his breastplate. 

If he hadn’t been so busy trying to decide what to do next Jason might have wondered at Robin’s obviously strong emotions, but as it was he couldn’t seem to do more than glance between the corpse of his older brother and the grief stricken face of his younger.

Maybe Jason should have tried to lose Robin instead of confronting him when the little shit started tailing them.

Don’t hurt him. A little voice in Jason’s head nagged. He’s not thinking straight.

So, when Robin flung himself at Jason wielding his Katanna Jason didn’t shoot the gremlin like he was itching too, like the constant pull of green haze urged him too. Instead, Jason wrestled the kid into a headlock, squeezing his wrist to force him to drop the sword and then carefully cutting off his air supply just enough to force him into unconsciousness.

Jason looked at the three bodies in something of a daze. His eyes were drawn like a magnet back to Danny’s corpse.

Take it with you. Don’t leave it here.

Jason stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around Danny’s body trying to cover up the worst of the blood before scooping him into his arms. They were close to one of Jason’s safehouses- one of The Red Hood’s technically, as a few of the members of his gang knew it existed, but it would do for now.

Jason’s memories of the Infinite Realms were hazy, it was something he had to concentrate on remembering and even then he knew there were big things that were missing like how or why he’d come back to life.

Did Danny know Jason was being revived? Or had Jason simply disappeared one moment, leaving Danny behind to wonder?

Why did Danny run? And why did Robin and Nightwing chase him?

Danny was tiny in Jason’s arms, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was possible Danny had gotten smaller even though he knew it was only his own massive growth spurt that made it seem that way.

With the blood hidden and his eyes closed Danny looked peaceful, almost like he could be sleeping. His face was smooth and carefree, he looked younger like this.

Why did he still look so young?

Danny looked almost the same as Jason remembered from eight years ago, his hair was a little longer, but he was definitely still a teenager and not the adult man he would have expected.

Jason’s mind whirled as his body mechanically walked down the street. In a city like Metropolis Jason wouldn’t have made it a block carrying a seemingly unconscious teenager without someone asking questions, in Gotham it didn’t even raise an eyebrow.

Keep going. You just need to get somewhere safe.

Jason knew he wasn’t good enough to hide completely from Barbara’s gaze, Oracle was the best for a reason, but the safehouse they were going to was in a densely populated apartment block and the city hadn’t bothered to replace the traffic cameras on that street after they broke for the third time during a rouge attack last year.

Danny’s body was already cold in Jason’s arms. He idly wondered if Danny’s normal body temperature was still as cold as it had been in the Infinite Realms.

Jason shifted Danny’s corpse in his hold so he could use one hand to hit the button to call the elevator in his building.

He would have preferred to enter through a window, but it would be a difficult maneuver with his arms full and although it was late now- or early morning actually- someone was still liable to see something if he took longer than a minute to get inside- hence the elevator.

Jason smiled at an elderly woman who got in after him, carefully ensuring Danny’s wounds couldn’t be seen by the civilian.

“Which floor?” She asked in a hushed voice.

Jason knew she was trying to be kind, he obviously had his arms full, but he felt the familiar bat paranoia creeping up.

“Five.”

“Poor kid must be exhausted.” She commented, looking at Danny with curiosity. “You’re a good big brother to carry him home.”

Jason felt a burst of warmth at the compliment, no one had ever said that to him before. At the same time it raised a bigger question: If Danny really was still a teenager did that make Jason the big brother? It was a strange thought, even though Danny was only a little older than him when they were in the Infinite Realms he was always the strong one.

“You two look just like my two boys when they were young.” The woman misinterpreted his expression as confusion over her knowledge of their relationship and explained. “My Gerry used to carry around his baby brother like that too- until he blew out his knee playing football.” She laughed in a nostalgic way. “I think he was more upset he couldn't carry Artie around than he was about losing his scholarship.”

I am not the baby brother here! Jason could hear Danny’s voice protesting in his head and he laughed out loud.

At the old woman's questioning look Jason explained.

“Danny would hate that. He likes to think he’s all mature and wise.”

“All teenagers think they are more mature than they are. He’ll miss being the baby soon enough.” The old woman laughed warmly and winked at Jason.

She got off on the third floor and Jason couldn’t help but feel relieved when it was just he and Danny again. As polite as the old woman had been, Jason was still carrying a corpse and he couldn’t relax until he got somewhere safe.

The hallway on his floor was thankfully empty and Jason managed to get into the apartment without running into anyone else.

Jason glanced from the couch to the carpeted living room, then he considered the kitchen floor for a moment. Nah, the tile would be a bastard to clean. So Jason dumped Danny’s corpse unceremoniously into the bathtub before finally turning to face the ghost himself.

I still need that, you know. Phantom’s voice rang inside Jason’s head, it was distant and strained as if he was struggling to be heard.

“It’s not my fault you got yourself killed again.” Jason spat back, although he felt a pang of guilt over his harsh tone before he even finished. He knew he was just feeling guilty for letting something happen to Danny so soon after finding him again.

Now that they were alone Phantom was trying to be visible, although he was still little more than a hazy outline in the shape of a lanky teenager. He was still reforming after his newest brush with death. When Jason moved out of the way Phantom leaned against the edge of the bathtub almost curiously.

“You are going to be okay- right?” Jason confirmed.

Phantom nodded and Jason relaxed a bit.

Danny had explained his not-quite-dead status to Jason back when they first met but a lot of things had changed since then and Jason had never seen him actually die. Still, Jason took him at his word and slid down the wall onto the floor to wait.

Jason found his mouth suddenly dry as all the questions he’d been buzzing to ask Danny vanished into thin air. It was surreal after all these years searching to finally be sitting across from his big brother.

“So,” Danny broke the silence after only a single tortuously silent minute. His voice sounded stronger now- more physically audible although it still had an echoey quality. “When did you touch a Lazarus Pit?”

Jason automatically reached for his gun and Danny gave a questioning hum. Jason almost shoved it right back into the holster but something stopped him, it's not that he thought he would need it but talking about his resurrection always made him feel a little bit on edge and the weight of a weapon in his hand made him feel more in control.

“After I came back.” Jason finally answered, pulling the clip out of the gun instead of looking at Danny. He knew what he would see, pity. The same pity that everyone felt when he spoke of his death. “You?”

“Ancients no! those things are nasty!” Danny sounded like Jason had suggested he swam naked in the sewers.

“How the hell do you know about them then?” Jason asked. “Ra’s doesn’t even tell most of his people about the Lazarus Pits.”

“He summoned me.” Danny answered as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

“What.”

“Well technically I guess he summoned Dora.” Danny explained with a slight frown. “But I’ve been answering her calls for her. Ol’ Raisin Bran wants someone to skim his pool.” Before Jason could wrap his mind around Danny nicknaming The Demon’s Head Raisin Bran, he kept talking completely oblivious to the effects of his words. “He calls every couple of months usually, sometimes his daughter. Have you met her? Sometimes I get this feeling like I should recognize her, ya know? Anyways Dora doesn’t really want to deal with them and even if she did, she’s pretty busy so.” Danny shrugged again.

“Why Princess Dora?” Jason asked. He had met her before, with Danny.

“Dora was crowned High Queen of the Infinite Realms.” Danny answered.

Jason was stunned into momentary silence again. Then a wide grin split his face. Of all the contenders for the throne Dora had been the best by far.

“The fighting is over then?” Jason asked. “When? How”

“Almost a year.”

Danny briefly explained how Dora had gained the support she needed ascend to the throne, glossing over the details in favor of the parts he deemed important, like the look on Plasmius’s face when he found out.

Somehow Jason found himself laughing at Danny’s stories like they were fifteen and dead again, like nothing had changed despite the literal corpse in the room.

It took almost two hours for Phantom to finish reforming. During that time his hazy outline solidified slowly, like a figure rising out of a pool of water. His hair was white, like it always was in his ghostly form but his eyes didn’t look as bright of a green as Jason remembered.

Phantom’s head snapped towards his corpse as if reacting to something that Jason couldn’t see.

“What’s wrong?”

Phantom shook his head.

“It’s time.” He didn’t sound happy about that fact, he sounded almost resigned.

“What do I do?” Jason asked, suddenly feeling unsure about the whole situation. What made him think he was qualified to help Danny with this? He needed a doctor. Or a priest.

“Just stay back.” Danny instructed. “It might be a little uh- bright.”

Phantom reached out towards his corpse as if to touch his own cheek, a few inches away his hand slowed as if meeting some sort of resistance, but he pushed through with some effort. The instant his immaterial fingers finally brushed against his bare skin Phantom yelped as he was pulled forward into his body like a magnet that has just come into range.

Danny’s skin, which was already looking very pale, turned almost translucent as it was backlit with a bright light. When Danny’s eyes flicked open an instant later, they were filled with the same white light completely blocking out the sclera. Then the light intensified, a beam shone from a spot on his chest before crackling like electricity and scattering out along his limbs.

Jason had to close his eyes as the light grew impossibly brighter, but it didn’t stop the sickly-sweet scent of burning flesh from reaching his nose.

oOo

Solving a crime was like riding a motorcycle, or throwing a batarang, or punching a creepy immortal assassin in the face; as soon as you’ve done it once you never forget how and you never stop itching to do it again.

The break in at the Warner was almost too easy to solve, if there weren’t a million other things that needed his attention Tim might have been disappointed at the speed with which the case resolved itself.

No one involved seemed to be satisfied with how the operation had gone and the Riddler and Clayface both happily sold out their employer.

Patricia Warner folded before Red Robin could even question her. She hired Clayface and the Riddler to break into her own party for the buzz she thought it would generate amongst the other ladies.

“I told them how to get into the basement levels.” She sniffed, “The cameras haven’t worked down there in ages. No one was supposed to get hurt, they were just supposed to give everyone a little fright.”

It made Red Robin furious to think of vigilantism being trivialized into a silly dinner show.

It was merely a case of bad timing that caused the ghost to attack at the same time. Technus seemed to have some sort of power over technology and somehow tracked their search on Danny to the satellite Oracle used to route the search. The satellite had originally been designed by Wayne Enterprises, thus the ghost's grudge against Bruce- although Tim still couldn’t be sure why exactly it upset the ghost so much. Maybe it had something to do with his technological powers?

By the time Tim had finished cleaning up the mess downtown Spoiler, who was assisting Oracle, ordered him to meet up with Nightwing to provide backup to Robin.

On the way Nightwing filled him in on all the important details.

“I just can’t think of any reason why Hood would take Danny.” Dick concluded.

Tim could think of a dozen although he didn’t share, each was less likely than the one before and he needed more data.

They were too late to the alley. By the time they arrived there were two bodies lying in the mud and evidence of a third being removed.

Robin was just unconscious, but the second body had been shot at close range, most likely by Hood. The pool of blood where the third body must have been was big, it was too much blood for someone to lose and survive without urgent medical attention.

Wing called for the Batmobile to transport Robin back to the Batcave while Red Robin started gathering evidence from the alley.

Red Robin unconsciously began fitting the evidence in front of him into a theory. The last they had heard from Robin he was tailing Hood on a motorcycle, and he had cut the video feed himself in retaliation of Oracle sending backup. Hood must have noticed Robin following him and pulled over to confront him before they reached their destination. Robin had blood on his hands and knees, there wasn’t any evidence that the body had been disturbed so it must have come from the missing body- presumably Danny. Could Hood have shot the stranger and Danny and then knocked out Robin? Well yes. He was certainly capable but why? And why take Danny?

When the Batmobile pulled up to the alley, Nightwing got in the back with Robin and Tim took the driver's seat. The car drove itself automatically while Tim used the computer embedded in the dash to start a search on their mystery corpse. By the time they pulled into the cave he had a name.

Ivan Bates was thirty-two years old and a career criminal. He had been caught up with a few small-time busts in Gotham but never anything that would earn him real time. He was either very good at staying under the radar or out of the more nefarious plots that many others fell into out of desperation.

On the Batcomputer Red Robin switched gears to helping sweep the city for Hood. Oracle and Spoiler were already looking through traffic cameras and trying to trace Hood’s retreat, but it was obvious that he was laying low for now. He had left his bike near the alley they found Robin, so Hood must have travelled on foot.

Jason had a few safehouses in that area that Tim knew about. Two of them were already out, all the Bats knew about them. Another was across the street from the library, whose cameras Barbara had already checked. That left two possible locations. Of the two Tim picked the one he thought more likely because of its position and although it was slightly less private Tim thought Jason might be drawn to the relative anonymity of slipping into a crowd.

“Red Robin.”

Someone else might have flinched at Batman’s sudden appearance, but Tim was used to people appearing randomly behind him in the Batcave.

“I think I know where Hood went.”

There was a pregnant pause while Batman made a decision.

“Take Nightwing with you.” Batman ordered.

“Robin?” Tim asked. 

Batman sounded awkward when he answered.

“He woke up ten minutes ago. We had to sedate him. For the sake of his injuries.”

And Gotham; Tim added on silently in his head.

“He indicated that Danny was mortally injured in the alley.” B added. “It would be better if you were back before he wakes up.” He didn’t explain why, and Tim didn’t need him to.

If Danny were dead and Jason was responsible, they would have a hard time keeping Damian and Jason from tearing each other to shreds. On the other hand, if Danny was still alive, they would need to get him medical attention as soon as possible and find a way to keep Jason away from him- which wouldn’t be an easy feat. As many had been dismayed to discover, there were few prisons that could hold a Bat or Bird.

Why did Jason hate Danny so much?

Tim had once been the object of the Red Hood’s ire. He had been a bit younger than Danny was now when Hood hunted him down and beat him nearly to death. Hood had been angry that Tim assumed the mantle of Robin after his death, as far as Tim knew Hood had only ever gotten physically violent with kids that were wearing his former colors. Hood usually protected kids. So why was Danny different?

Convincing Nightwing to leave Robin wasn’t an easy feat but they’d all been trained to put the mission before their personal feelings.

The safehouse Tim thought Jason was in was an apartment just a few blocks from the Greek restaurant whose alley they had found Robin. It was one of the tallest buildings on the street which meant Hood would have a good view of them if they decided to enter through the window- and so would anyone else who happened to be looking up. Instead, they threw on hoodies over their suits and walked up the staircase, hoping to avoid anyone who might look at them with more than a cursory gaze.

Tim was a little bit embarrassed at the way his thighs began to burn near the top of the fourth floor. Maybe he should add stairs to his exercise routine. With all the running and jumping, vigilantes rarely bothered to use the stairs.

“Remember, our first priority is to get Danny out of there.” Nightwing reminded Tim, not adding the If Danny is still alive that was implied. “If it does come to a fight, I’ll distract Hood while you get him out.”

Damian would never fully recover if Danny was dead. Even though Damian didn’t know Danny very well yet, it was obvious that he had taken the whole soulmate thing to heart and Tim was inclined to believe he would become just as angry and unhinged as his mother if he were to die at Jason’s hand. Would it be better than for Damian to watch Danny struggle to recover after being rescued?

When Hood tortured Tim, years ago before he started to recover; Tim never wished he was dead. Hood had taunted him, telling Robin to beg for his death but he never had. Tim had survived that night solely on spite. He wasn’t sure he could do it again.

Was Danny undergoing the same sadistic treatment as Tim had? He could almost feel the white-hot pain of a knife carving into his already abused skin. He could almost smell the way his skin blistered and bled against the glowing end of a steel brand.

A small yelp scared Tim, he might have thought he imagined it with his morbid thoughts, but Dick reacted as well. Then a deep laugh reverberated through the floor. It came from Jason’s apartment. 

Dick looked at Tim. Tim looked back.

“No, Jason!” A young voice pleaded.

“Shut up!” Jason snapped back. “You asked for this.”

Oh God Danny was still alive.

Nightwing wasted no time, he took two steps toward the door and kicked it hard enough to splinter the frame and send it crashing into the apartment.

Once inside both vigilantes froze.

Tim blinked at the sight before him.

Danny stared back, apparently alive and well although oblivious of the pancake that was slowly falling off his spatula.

“Dontcha know how to knock?” Jason asked, barely glancing up from the fridge he was rummaging through. “You’re fixin that door before ya leave.”

“Wait. What is going on?” Dick asked.

“I’m making breakfast.” Danny answered, although the way he gesticulated with the spatula sent the undercooked pancake to the floor. “Oops.”

“You said you could handle pancakes!” Jason complained.

“I didn’t say I could cook them!” Danny shouted back.

Tim’s mind was reeling. Danny was alive- but he looked different. Most noticeably there were thick glowing scars travelling from somewhere under his shirt down one arm and up his neck and face through one eye which was now a milky green color. It was as if the old injury Robin had described in his report was fresh and oozing Lazarus water. In addition there was also a stripe of pure white through his hair that looked nearly identical to Jason’s.

“Can you cook anything?” Jason asked, barely paying attention to his brothers in favor of Danny. 

“Yeah! Just not breakfast.” Danny tried to defend himself. 

“Why not breakfast?” Tim asked, trying to remind them that he and Dick were still there. Their bickering was starting to unnerve him. 

“I don’t know.” Danny answered thoughtfully. “You know what they say, Breakfast is the most vicious meal of the day.”

“What the…” Jason trailed off with an exasperated expression. “No Danny. Just no.”

“Yeah, they do.” Danny argued. “It's like a saying or whatever.”

“I’ve never heard that before.” Dick cut in.

“You.” Jason pointed at Dick. “Door.”

Dick pretended to pout but obediently replaced the door, fitting it awkwardly back into the broken frame while Jason continued to rib Danny about his cooking skills. It wouldn't hold up to more than a light knock, but it was better than nothing. 

“Lunch and dinner aren’t nearly as bloodthirsty!” Danny declared.

Both Tim and Dick watched Jason in amazement as he laughed and actually ruffled Danny’s hair. Jason didn't do things like that. Ever. 

“So, what are you guys doing?” Tim asked, taking a seat beside where Danny had been banished to a stool at the island. 

“Starving to death!” Danny answered dramatically, hunching over the bar as if he didn't have the energy to hold his own weight.

“You’re going to be fine.” Jason dismissed him without even looking. “If you’re so hungry then make a piece of toast while you wait.”

Danny cried out like a wounded animal. 

“What the hell are you two doin here?” Jason asked, directing his question (and ire) towards Dick. “Besides breakin my shit.”

“We’re here for breakfast!” Dick answered cheerily, plopping down on Danny’s other side with a sunny smile and pretending not to notice when Danny scooted closer to Tim in response. 

Tim expected Jason to tell them to fuck off. That's what he usually did when Dick came around asking him to join a group movie night or get food after patrol. Instead, to Tim’s astonishment, Jason pulled out two more plates and set them on the island with only a soft annoyed sigh that was almost fond.

Chapter Text

When Damian came to awareness there was no moment of ignorant bliss where he could bask in naivety. He woke the same way he had gone unconscious; to the worst pain he could imagine. It was worse than anything Damian had endured in his childhood. Damian would have taken anything, any of the creative and excruciatingly painful punishments inflicted by his grandfather over the slow but incessant ripping feeling currently coming from his chest. He had never realized that heartbreak was a literal sensation. Damian thought he would have preferred an actual wound to his heart, a dagger would surely be a faster way to die than this slow suffocation by grief.

“Are you awake?”

If Damian had been in any state to be surprised he might have been when he realized the steady presence beside him was not his father there to attend to him in his time of need. Neither was it Grayson, whose absence was perhaps even more shocking. It wasn’t even Pennyworth or one of Damian’s less than appealing siblings.

“Don’t cry, Dami.” Jonathan whispered, putting one hand lightly on his shoulder.

Damian hadn’t even realized there were tears dripping steadily from his eyes, the stream felt cool against his flushed face. His eyes felt swollen and his head pounded as if he had been crying even in his sleep. Even Damian’s dry mouth tasted foul and coppery like blood.

Jonathan kept speaking but Damian couldn’t hear him. He didn’t need to listen to Jonathan’s over earnest condolences.

For once Damian wished that Jon would try to wrap him in one of those bear hugs that made his bones creak and which Damian usually protested vehemently. He didn’t have the pride to pretend to hate it right now.

Damian tried to focus on something else, but he found himself making a list of things he’d have to do next. He’d need to inform the Fentons of course, it was something he knew he should do personally although he had no idea what he would say to them. Damian would have some time to prepare for that confrontation at least as they were currently overseas. Danny’s parents would likely return early for the funeral service, something else Damian would deal with personally. Danny might not have technically been a Wayne but Damian was sure his father would allow him to be buried amongst the family plots.

“Damian.” Jonathan had his hands on either side of Damian’s face.

What a pathetic sight he must make right now. If Damian’s grandfather were here he would have had Damian strung up for such an emotional display.

Damian felt his breathing pick up again as another round of sobs wracked his body.

”Damian!” Jonathan said again, louder. Had he been speaking again? Why couldn't he understand that Damian didn’t want to talk.

Once, Damian had seen a movie where the main character pined after her lost love listlessly for months. At the time Damian thought it was unrealistic. He told Richard, who had insisted on watching it, that the heroine was pathetic. What good could possibly come from succumbing to grief to such a degree? He felt like he could understand her actions now though. Something about the idea of never moving again just felt right to Damian. How could he possibly continue with Danny gone?

Logically Damian knew that he would have to get over this eventually. He couldn't grieve for someone he hardly knew for the rest of his life. Wasn't that what his mother had done though? Held on to her grief for the life she wished she had gotten to live.

It wasn't fair. Although Damian had despised the idea of a soulmate in his youth, he couldn't bear to imagine being alone for the rest of his life. Some people were able to move on after the death of their other half, some even got married and had families but that would never happen for Damian. He wasn't like any of those people. Damian was abrasive and brash, he was rude and sometimes had a temper. Who would put up with him if they didn't have to?

“Damian!” Jonathan practically screamed in his face. “Are you listening to me?”

Damian blinked. Was he?

“Danny is alive.”

Damian’s heart physically stuttered in his chest. He knew he should be concerned about that but he was too stunned to be concerned for his own health. Then he felt an unexpected surge of anger.

Why would Jonathan say that? Damian knew that Danny was dead, He’d been there. It was uncharacteristically cruel of Jonathan to lie about something like this.

Then the rational part of his mind caught up. Of course, Jon wouldn't deceive him about this, and neither was he shortsighted enough to speak on it unless he was certain.

“Tell-” Damian’s throat burned as if he’d swallowed a handful of tacks. He coughed and the taste of blood on his tongue got stronger. “Tell me everything Kent.”

Jonathan showed Damian the live feed streaming from Nightwing’s domino cam.

Danny looked different on the screen. The lichtenberg scars had spread farther and the skin around them was red and irritated as if he’d only just received the injury. The center of the scars and the eye that was now intersected by the injury glowed an eerie lazarus green, giving Danny an inhuman appearance that was only punctuated by the sight of fangs a moment later.

Damian rewound the footage to see what he’d missed

He’d missed a lot.

oOo

Danny felt distinctly uncomfortable sitting with the two vigilantes in Jason’s apartment. Part of the reason he felt on edge was his most recent resurrection. Danny’s skin still felt raw and his death scar was more prominent than ever, the edges of it tingled painfully like an exposed nerve. The other source of discomfort was Jason’s tumultuous feelings that still rushed at him, crashing into Danny like waves.

Having someone invade your haunt would make any ghost uneasy but Jason’s complicated history with his brothers made it worse. Jace was clearly torn between anger for their poorly timed invasion and hope that his family might still be repaired.

After Danny came back to life, his body stiff and cold from its time unoccupied, Jason insisted they eat before discussing any of the more serious topics that still needed to be addressed. Danny was pretty sure Jason just wanted a chance to think before he started asking his questions, not that he would get it now that Nightwing was here.

Jason wasn’t the only one having a lot of feelings though, everyone was tense despite the outward appearance of a friendly meal. Danny could feel the way Red Robin’s anxiety ratcheted when Jason moved as if in response to some past trauma.

Did all the Robins have issues with their predecessors? If Red Robin had hurt Damian in some way Danny wasn’t sure he could remain amiable, it was hard enough to be around Nightwing.

 Behind his affectionate smile Nightwing was as uneasy about the situation as Jace, he was a whirlwind of anxious movement; bouncing his leg when he sat, playing with the cutlery and shifting his weight incessantly when standing.

What had they expected to find when they barged in?

Danny had been able to feel their shock, obviously the line about breakfast was a lie. Danny knew that the Bats were paranoid in general, it made sense that they wanted to check up on Danny with how close he and Jason were. That understanding did nothing to ease the uncomfortable feeling Danny got sitting so close to their suspicion.

Danny tried to ignore his discomfort for Jason’s sake. Despite his anxiety it was obvious that he longed to be closer to his brothers. Jason had always been someone who needed companionship, he had spent too much of his life alone and Danny couldn’t, in good conscience, make things worse.

“How many do you want?” Jace asked, flipping a pancake like one of those fancy chefs on cooking shows.

Danny sized up the steaming plate of ready pancakes on the side. They were big but not unmanageably so, just the way he liked them

“Three.” Danny finally answered after some consideration.

The pancakes seemed docile for now.

When Jazz cooked she always made the pancakes tiny, she said it made them easier to fight off when they decided to bite back but Danny preferred the larger ones. It was more of a challenge to take one down but it just meant a better payoff in the end.

Danny poked at the plate Jason handed him before adding a generous amount of whipped cream and diving in. A quick breakfast is a finished breakfast.

Nightwing and Red Robin eyed him oddly, although Jason only rolled his eyes at Danny. Their attention only lasted until they got their own plates though. Red Robin who had looked at his breakfast almost as cautiously as Danny had hummed with pleasure when he tasted his.

“Oh mygod Jay thisissogud” Nightwing said, although Danny secretly questioned how much he could possibly have tasted with the way his pancake was swimming in maple syrup.

Despite the cheery tone of Nightwing’s voice Danny felt a pang of discordance from Jason.

Danny was just feeling thankful that neither of the vigilantes were trying to interrogate him when Nightwing ruined that too.

“So uh- How do you two know each other?” Nightwing finally just asked, trying to act like it was an idle curiosity.

Danny froze. He wasn’t upset with the question and considering their night jobs he couldn’t really be surprised that they couldn’t just let it go.

It was a long story and even Jason didn't know all of it. Danny had explained some of it last night- or early this morning actually. Jason had met other ghosts that were displaced in time while in the Infinite Realms although he hadn’t known he was among their number, so the concept wasn’t nearly as difficult as it could have been to explain. Still there was a lot more to that story and Danny was too tired to go into it now even if he had been willing with Jason’s brothers right there.

“None ya fucking business.” Jace answered shortly, saving Danny from attempting any sort of explanation. “Better question is why the fuck you were chasin us?”

“You ran.” Red Robin said flatly around a mug of coffee that Danny hadn’t even noticed him acquiring.

Danny stared. As far as he’d been able to tell this morning, while rifling through his cabinets, Jason didn’t even own a coffee maker. Danny’s eyes zeroed in on the steaming mug of happiness.

“Robin wanted to make sure Danny was okay.” Nightwing was explaining. “He‘s all worked up about Danny because of- you know.”

Danny kept his focus on Red Robin as the vigilante shifted, leaning forward in his seat. The mug was loose in his grip, held onto one side away from the handle with the bottom resting on the counter. It was still three quarters of the way full.

“The Demon’s Brat recognized-?”

Danny didn’t pay attention to Jason’s words as he struck. In a swift move he had used a hundred times before, and which Sam liked like to call the Beverage Burglary, Danny swiped Red Robin’s mug out of his hands and tipped it to his own lips before anyone could stop him.

Red Robin lunged towards the cup and Danny.

“What? No Jay I meant because they’re soulmates.”

Danny froze as Jason’s shock slammed into him. Red Robin took the opportunity to snatch his now empty mug from Danny.

“No.” Jace and Red Robin cried at the same time, one in disappointment and the other rejection.

Red Robin sat heavily on Jason’s couch with a sigh as if he’d been the one to receive a shock.

Jason turned his attention to Danny. He squinted a little as if he was searching for something.

Danny knew that his aura had shifted after meeting Robin, it seemed obvious to him as if it must be written across his face, but Technus apparently hadn’t been in any state to notice. Liminals like Sam, Jazz and maybe even Jace could see it if they were concentrating.

“No that’s impossible.” Jason insisted although the protest didn’t have any conviction behind it and Danny could tell he already knew the truth.

“It’s true.” Danny confirmed. He tugged up the hem of his shirt to show Jace the bird on his abdomen.

“Danny’s is a Robin and Robin’s is like a galaxy constellation thing.” Nightwing informed them, surprising Danny with the information.

Danny had sort of wanted to ask what Damian’s soulmark was yesterday, but he hadn’t wanted to come across as rude. Some people preferred to keep soulmarks private and he didn’t know what Damian’s boundaries were yet. Still he couldn’t help but wonder what constellation it was even as he was pondering how to correct Nightwing.

“It’s not a robin.” Red Robin piped up in a matter-of-fact tone, saving Danny from being the one to do it. “It’s a crow. In black and without a size comparison or decent look it might look like a robin, but the beak is bigger and the body more muscular. Plus, the shape of the tail isn’t right.” When his brothers just stared at him, Red Robin got defensive. “What? It was important for a case.”

“No.” Jason repeated, louder this time, “This isn’t happening. That has to be like- a conflict of interest or something!”

“Jace,” Danny tried, but Jason wasn’t listening anymore.

“I’m not losing you again!” Jason’s voice was high, and Danny could feel his panic. “You can’t. I won’t- I’ll complain to Nellmuck.” Jason threatened sounding like a terrified child.

Danny tried to ignore the way Jason’s threat stung- he knew that Jace didn’t really mean it.

“I’m not going anywhere Jace.” Danny tried to reassure him, “Unless you really do complain to Nell. They’ll reassign me if you want.”

Ancients! Danny wished they could have this conversation somewhere else, preferably far away from Nightwing, Red Robin, and the listening ears of every bat in Gotham that were probably all pointed towards them right now.

Jason gave Danny a hard look and then deflated. The hurt and confusion was still there but he’d lost the will to fight.

“Platonic?”

Danny couldn’t help the grin that split his face.

“Definitely not.”

Jason groaned and dropped his head to the coffee table with an audible thunk.

“Whhhhyyy?” Jace lamented, barely audibly against the table.

“Ancients! Where to start?” Danny replied dramatically, “I mean his muscle definition alone is-“

“Ew! No.” Jason interrupted him. “Stop it! I don’t wanna hear this!”

“Speaking of super hot fights-“ Danny turned to Red Robin, internally delighting at the look of mortification that passed over both his and Jace’s faces. “Could you tell Dami I want my sword back?”

“Wait, you know who-“ Nightwing started, only for his panic to be interrupted by loud music jingling out of Danny’s phone where it was laying plugged into the wall on Jason’s kitchen counter.

Normally Danny would have been elated for the reprieve, but he recognized the ringtone as belonging to Vlad. The decision between talking to Nightwing and Vlad was a difficult one but practicality won out- he would have to play nice with Vlad for another four weeks.

“Fruitloop.” Danny answered flatly.

“Where are you?” Vlad’s voice came back with a crackle of interference that made it hard to judge his tone.

“Why do you care?” Danny spat back. “It’s like-“ He looked at the screen of his phone. “Eight AM? What the fuck?” Danny definitely remembered telling Vlad he was going to sleep all morning.

“I care because your sister has been haranguing me since dawn. You aren’t in your room, you didn’t come back last night. Where are you?” Vlad asked again.

“Jazz?” Danny asked. Why would she be bothering Vlad? She was supposed to be getting ready to start classes next week, she’d just gotten to Star.

“Daniel.” Vlad said, this time his tone was very clear.

“Ancients! Fine!” Danny responded only a little bit sarcastically. “I’m having breakfast with Batman’s kids. Is that what you wanted to know?” Without waiting for a response Danny asked, “What’s going on with Jazz?”

“She decided to come to Gotham last night,” Vlad sniffed, ignoring Danny’s explanation. “If she had decided a few hours earlier we might have all come together.” He sounded annoyed about that.

If Jazz was as petty as him Danny would have thought she’d put off telling Vlad for exactly that reason- but she was usually the responsible one and besides flying all the way to California just to turn around and fly to the other side of the country would be extreme even for him. When he checked his phone Danny saw that he did have a bunch of missed calls from her and a text telling him she’d boarded a plane just over four hours ago. She must have called Vlad when she couldn't reach Danny.

“When’s she landing?” Danny asked.

“In about thirty minutes. I have brunch plans but I have arranged for us to all have dinner together tonight.”

Danny wrinkled his nose in distaste but didn't argue, as much as he’d rather do anything else Vlad had been oddly civil so far and Danny didn't want to antagonize him if he could help it.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you then.” Danny relented.

“Try to stay out of trouble today. I’m still dealing with your mess from yesterday.” Vlad instructed before ending the call.

When Danny glanced up from his phone it was to Nightwing’s suspicious gaze.

“It was you!” Nightwing cried. “In the basement at the Warner! I knew I heard music.”

Danny opened his mouth automatically to refute the accusation and then closed it again. He didn't want to lie to them. Besides, it's not like he was doing anything wrong.

“What were you doing down there?” Nightwing asked and this time Danny could hear the way his voice shifted towards the one Jason had witnessed him use in interrogations.

“Would you believe me if I said I was looking for the bathroom?“ Danny replied.

Nightwing didn’t even hesitate.

“No.”

Danny couldn't help but smirk when he felt the echoes of Nightwing’s frustration. He leaned towards Jason with a conspiratorial look just to piss Nightwing off a little more.

“You can’t get anything past Officer Grayson, can you?” Danny mock whispered.

Jace snorted at Danny’s jab but he looked preoccupied. Before he could pick apart the reason Nightwing was talking again.

“I knew it! You do know who we are!”

Danny paused. What? That almost sounded like.

“Wait- why wouldn't I know?”

Danny looked from Nightwing to Jason.

How could he not have known it was a better question. Time travel shenanigans, deathbed confessions, Jason’s memories, the unique feeling of their auras, all of it spelled out the truth so glaringly that Danny hadn’t even considered that Nightwing, or any of the other Bats, would be oblivious to the fact he knew their identities.

“You didn’t tell them?” Danny asked Jason, feeling a little lost. He’d known that Jason was surprised to see him but-

“Danny. I wasn't even sure you weren’t a figment of my imagination until like six hours ago.” Jason replied unemotionally.

Ouch. Danny tried not to let the sting of hurt show on his face. Realistically this was better than Danny had feared when Jason came back, but that didn't make it any easier.

Jason must have seen or sensed it anyways though because his face softened.

“I looked for you, you know?”

Oh ancients. Now that really hurt.

Danny couldn’t tell how much of the pain was his or Jason’s at that moment. Danny had wanted to find Jason- his core had physically ached from the grief of losing him when Jace went back but Clockwork had insisted that he wait until their timelines intersected naturally. Even if Danny had looked for Jason he never would have started in Gotham.

As for Jason he’d never had any real chance of finding Danny, he’d been looking for a half dead teenager while Danny had still been little more than a toddler and the portal that killed him had still been in its conceptual stages with only a few small prototypes having been actually made.

“Besides, these dingbats,” Jason pointed towards Red Robin and Nightwing with a gruff voice, “didn’t tell me nothin about runnin into you.”

Danny frowned. That didn't make any sense. Batman might be prideful but he wasn't the kind of guy to leave a source of information unturned like that.

“Batman didn't ask the only person in Gotham that’s actually been in the Infinite Realms for help?”

“You’ve been to the Infinite Realms?” Nightwing asked Jason immediately, as if this was the first he was hearing of it.

How could they not know? Batman definitely knew that Jason had died, right? I mean obviously he wouldn't have buried him or anything if he’d been alive. So how-

“More importantly,” Jason straight up ignored Nightwing’s question, in favor of asking his own. He was still looking at Danny. “Since when are you and the fruitloop on speaking terms?”

Shit. He’d forgotten that Jason knew about Plasmius.

“You know I really should get outta here soon.” Danny hedged, looking around the room for his shoes. “My sister is gonna land soon and you know how dangerous cabs can be.”

It wasn’t that Danny was unwilling to explain exactly, he just didn't want to do it right now. The whole situation with Vlad was complicated and Danny wasn't even sure if he really understood what happened.

“Please don't tell me youre giving that Asshole another chance?” Jason asked and Danny grimaced in response.

He really didn't want to have this conversation right now. He wished, not for the first time that morning, that Nightwing and Red Robin would have just stayed away.

“Damnit Danny!” Jason chastised. “He tried to kill you!”

“What's a little attempted murder between family?” Danny quipped back before thinking.

Jason looked at Danny with something like shock.

“Family.” Jason repeated flatly. “Are you feeling okay Danny? Did you completely scramble your brain doing something stupid since the last time I saw you?” His voice got louder as he spoke.

“Hey-” Danny tried to protest but Jason just kept talking, looking over Danny as if he was searching for injuries.

“Did you sacrifice all your brain cells when you died again?” Jason asked, going so far as to look in Danny’s ears.

When Jason tried to pry open his mouth Danny finally cracked.

“Oh fuck off.” Danny snapped, automatically baring his fangs to Jason the way he would to any other ghost if they were bugging him. He didn't realize his mistake until it was too late.

“Oh my god! When did you grow fangs?”

Danny could feel himself flush at the question. He tried to keep his fangs out of view since they had started coming in a few months ago for exactly this reason. Luckily they were usually impossible to see in his human form, they must have bled through with the streak in his hair when he came back. Danny hadn’t realized they would do that.

“They're new.”

Jason reached out a hand as if he was intending to touch one of Danny’s fangs and Danny couldn't help but growl in response.

“I can't believe this!” Jason guffawed, making Danny turn a darker shade of red. “You’re going through Ghost puberty!”

“I hate you.” Danny spat.

He didn't mean it though.

oOo

Damian sped through the footage, taking careful mental notes on every interaction and word until he caught up with the live feed.

On the screen Todd was trying to follow Danny out the door like a lost puppy despite- or perhaps because Richard signaled him the order for a debrief.

Neither Danny nor Todd deigned to explain how they knew each other but Damian thought it was safe to infer it had something to do with the Infinite Realms and Todd’s death.  From the way they interacted it seemed they were quite close.

Todd slammed the door behind himself and Danny but the audio picked up one last snippet before Danny was gone.

“Is that my Jacket?” Todd‘s gruff voice asked, clearly affronted.

“Maybe?”

“Give it back you little-“

“But Jace,” Danny whined. “I got blood all over my shirt! Jazz is gonna kill me if she sees!”

“Then die.”

Nightwing and Red Robin turned towards each other as the voices faded away.

Damian turned off the feed. He didn’t want to hear their speculations yet, it was important that he come to his own objective conclusions first.

The mention of blood brought back the image of Danny’s blood staining his gloves and Damian looked down at himself as if he expected to see the evidence of Danny’s injury still painted across himself. It was an illogical reaction, Damian could remember someone, maybe Pennyworth, practically dressing him the first time he’d awoken while Damian threw what could hardly even be considered a tantrum as he’d been too distraught to do much more than sob. After that Damian could remember his father and the sharp sting of a needle as someone sedated him.

Damian had been certain that Danny died in that alley.

What happened?

Without an explanation from Danny or any conclusive evidence Damian feared he’d have to wait for that information. He could think of plenty of possibilities but none of them were very likely. Damian had already gotten Danny injured once because of his own impulsive actions, and he couldn’t bear to be responsible for another mishap.

If Damian couldn’t investigate more, he considered following Danny and his sister. If Todd weren’t already accompanying them Damian could justify it as protecting Danny- but even as Damian thought that it seemed wrong. Danny had so far not needed Damian’s protection at all, in fact he’d done more than his fair share of protecting Damian during the ghost attack.

Damian considered Danny’s words from Todd’s kitchen. He’d clearly indicated that he was interested in Damian in a romantic sense but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t change his mind. Damian suddenly felt like a leach. How had this happened? Damian was supposed to be strong and in control but ever since the moment they’d switched Damian had been on the defensive- reacting to Danny and their circumstances. Perhaps it was time to take a more proactive role if he was to secure Danny as a romantic partner.

Damian abandoned his thoughts of following Danny from the airport and instead turned to Jonathan who was still patiently waiting. This was not an area that Damian was particularly adept at and as much as he loathed to admit it he wasn’t entirely confident in his own ability. Unfortunately, it was the only recourse Damian had available in his arsenal.

“Kent. It seems I will require a romantic gesture.”

Jonathan grinned, obviously thrilled with the mission objective although Damian remained stoic, still deep in thought.

The stakes were too high to take this on lightly.

Chapter Text

Danny spent almost five minutes in the bathroom of a convenience store trying and failing to get the white streak in his hair to turn back to black faster. He had hoped he would be able to hide the evidence of his newest brush with death from Jazz, but he didn’t have the time to spare and was running even later now. Danny had no doubt Jazz wouldn’t hesitate to walk herself to their hotel if she thought Danny would be too late regardless of the danger. Luckily Danny’s fangs had retracted easily without issue but the hair and scar would give him up for sure. Although it had already started to heal Danny’s scar still looked raised and irritated as if it were only a few weeks old.

Danny pulled the hood forward on his stolen jacket and blinked at his reflection in the grimy mirror.

Yeah that didn’t really help. Jazz would see through him in like half a second.

Something else caught Danny’s attention though. Between the white streak in his hair, the greenish tinge that wouldn’t completely leave his pupils, and the rough leather jacket Danny looked like Jace. Not like Jace now or even when he was dead but how Danny imagined he must have looked when he came back, outwardly older and more confident but still with the tangible, almost vulnerable, look of youth.

Ancients! Danny was technically older now than Jace had been when he came back and most days he still felt like a little kid playing dress up in his moms hazmat suit.

He leaned in even closer, his breath fanning out across the mirror leaving behind icy patterns. Danny couldn’t imagine being alone like Jace must have been. He’d had Sam and Tucker right there with him when he came back the first time. Sam’s hands left bruises on his from how hard she held onto him, afraid of letting go for even one second after his heart had miraculously restarted and Tucker’s tears drenched the front of his shirt making the fabric stick to his clammy skin; tangible proof of their grief. What would it have been like to come back without them?

Sam and Tucker were always there for Danny it seemed. Even last night in a foreign city hundreds of miles from home they’d been there for him, to help hunt ghosts, to hide Dannys powers from the government. When Danny finally confronted their many text messages this morning, Sam and Tucker had been understandably irritated with him. He told them he was busy doing some soul guiding stuff last night, which could technically be the truth- kind of. They wouldn’t press Danny for details about a case, soul guiding was always a very personal experience and neither Sam or Tucker would pry.

That honestly just made Danny feel guilty about hiding things from them. He’d never told them about Jace, the whole story of Doras succession, or now about Robin being his soulmate. It felt like they were drifting farther and farther out of Danny’s orbit and he was helpless to stop it.

With a sigh Danny forced himself to leave the tiny, dirty bathroom, trying to touch as little of the door handle as possible.

Jace was leaning against the counter, talking to the cashier in the distinctive rough accent that marked him as a Gotham native. When he saw Danny he straightened up.

“You ready to go?”

Danny nodded, trying to avoid the cashier’s eye. What did she see when she looked at them? Did they look like friends? Brothers? Danny’s heart thudded painfully in his chest as if the uneven beat was a warning not to get too attached.

It was too late for that though. Danny wasn’t willing to give up Jace again, even if that meant coming clean about his own involvement in Jason’s resurrection.

Danny felt exposed and oddly vulnerable outside of the relative privacy of the bathroom. Part of it was probably just his nerves being extra sensitive after dying yesterday but he felt the weight of eyes on him, as if someone was scrutinizing his every move under a microscope. Maybe their was a ghost following him? It would hardly be the first time, besides every ghost in Gotham probably felt Technus’s frenzy last night and any of them that hadn’t definitely felt Danny’s resurrection this morning.

Actually, now that he thought about it, Danny was surprised he hadn’t seen more ghosts this morning searching for the cause of the ecto spikes last night. They must have been more sluggish under the influence of Gotham’s rotting ectoplasm, or perhaps Danny wasn’t giving them enough credit. Gothamites were generally cautious and intuitive. Maybe the ghosts in Gotham could sense the danger of the GIW and were laying low.

Clockwork, at least, was watching Danny right now. Danny knew he couldn’t physically feel the ghost’s eyes on him from here but the thought still made him walk a little faster out of the store.

“To the airport then?” Jason asked, easily catching up with Danny on his longer legs.

Danny hesitated to respond. Its not that he didn’t want Jason and Jazz to meet. Its just- Okay, so Danny didn’t really want them to meet. Or at least not right now.

Jazz knew that Danny did some work for the Office of Lost souls and was serving as Dora’s Fright Knight but he hadn’t exactly explained to anyone how all that started. Jazz had been away at college and every time she called to check up on him he’d told her he had everything under control. If he’d let her know just how much he was drowning she would have dropped everything and come back for him. Danny couldn’t be the reason Jazz gave up on college, she’d been looking forward to it since she was old enough to read the brochures. By the time her schedule calmed down everything in Amity was over and Dora had taken the crown. It had been too long now, telling Jazz would feel like a confession, like he’d kept it from her instead of just omitted a few details.

Okay so maybe a part of Danny was also reluctant to admit just how easily he’d been manipulated by Clockwork with the promise of a break to catch his breath.

Jace knew who Jazz was, or at least he knew some of it. He’d heard stories about Danny’s older sister when they were in the Realms but the two of them had never met.

“That might not be a good idea, Jace.” Danny started carefully, keeping his eyes on the stained sidewalk.

“I thought we were picking her-“ Jason stopped walking. “Wait. Are you trying to ditch me?”

Danny could feel more than hear the hurt in Jason’s question.

“Jace I-“

“You have got to be kidding me Danny!” Jason whirled on him and the abrupt fury that almost exploded from his core made Danny’s head spin. “You can’t just show up out of nowhere, refuse to answer any of my questions, and then just up an fuckin leave after eight fuckin years.”

“I told you it-“

“It’s a long story!” Jason finished, cutting off Danny again. “Like I haven’t heard that one before! Luckily I have all the time in the world.”

“Jace-“ Danny paused on his own this time, half expecting Jason to talk over him again. “That isn’t fair, I tried to answer your questions- it’s not my fault your brothers showed up, and I’m not leaving. I’m going to be in Gotham for weeks still. You’re going to be sick of seeing me all the time.” Danny tried to joke and was rewarded with a half-smile from Jason although the knot of anger around him didn’t dissipate completely. “We can do whatever you want. I promise. I just can’t explain all this to Jazz right now.”

Danny knew he said something wrong even before Jason’s face froze.

“Right.” Jason agreed gruffly, "wouldn't want to give her the wrong impression.”

“That is not what I meant!” Danny insisted. Fuck. He didn’t want Jason to think he was ashamed of him! “Jace- She- Jazz.” Danny fumbled over the words, trying to figure out how to explain it without giving away anyone’s secrets.

Jason rolled his eyes, frustration and hurt radiating off him in thick waves.

“Jazz is Liminal.” Danny finally admitted in a rushed whisper.

This was not the kind of conversation he wanted to be having in the street where anyone could overhear. Once again Danny had the desperate feeling that the entire universe was conspiring against him.

“She’ll know Jace. She’ll be able to tell.” Danny tried to explain, he could feel the confusion now, mixing in with the cocktail of emotions flitting through Jason.

“Know.” Jason repeated. “Know what?”

“About you.”

“What about-” Jason cut himself off and Danny felt the wave of realization. “Wait what? No.” Jason didn't even pause to let Danny explain. “Thats impossible.”

“I’m serious Jace, you need to be careful around anyone from Amity.”

“They all know?”

“No, but any of them could.” Danny ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Look most of the kids from Amity and some of the adults are liminal enough to be able to sense your.” Danny gestured to Jason vaguely.

Jason's death clung to him like a shadow, it filled the space around him with every step he took. Any ghost would be able to see it as clearly as if he’d been wearing the information on a name tag. Someone who was as liminal as like Dash or Paulina probably wouldn't be able to pinpoint what about Jason felt wrong but that wouldn't keep them from guessing. A liminal as strong as Tucker or Sam would be able to tell Jason had died if they concentrated on it but Danny was confident he could keep them away until Sam left for Puerto Rico at least.

That only left Jazz and Vlad. Even if she didn’t figure it out immediately, Jazz was too discerning to be allowed around Jason or any of the other Bats by extension. She’d had too much experience discovering Danny’s secrets for him to trust she would remain oblivious to Batman’s. No, Jazz couldn’t be allowed within a block of Batman’s kids.

Jason was silent for a second, his emotions flitted from one too the next too fast for Danny to take stock before finally ending on something.

“So what?” Jason finally asked.

Danny searched his face hoping for some sort of hint to where this was going, luckily Jason saved him from having to guess. 

“I mean I don’t want to talk about it. But.” Jason explained choppily as if he was chewing on each word before letting it out. “Well. Your sister is hardly gonna give me a hard time abou it. Right?” Then Jason gave a flat smile, the kind he used when he was feeling self conscious but wanted to hide it.

Danny nodded dumbly. He was in shock, Danny knew from their discussions last night that Jace hadn’t really talked about his death with anyone since coming back. Sure, the hero community at large knew he’d been resurrected but it wasn’t a subject he felt comfortable breaching when it came to specifics.

That wasn’t surprising, a lot of ghosts could get touchy about their deaths. Some ghosts loved to discuss their own demise, especially those who passed on to the Infinite Realms because they’d died with such strong positive emotions but that was rarely true for those like Jason who had stuck around due to their own terror and grief. Jason might not technically be a ghost anymore but he definitely had more ectoplasm running through his system than any liminals Danny had ever encountered and that ectoplasm would shift with any emotions that grew too strong. Discussing his death likely felt physically painful to Jason. Danny hadn’t been able to talk about his own death for a long time after it happened, hadn’t even really let himself think about it.

That Jason was willing even just to meet Jazz knowing she might be able to tell, well it was huge. Danny knew just how exposing it could feel to acknowledge your death in front of a stranger, especially one who had never been through it themselves.

“Well then.” Jason started walking again as if the matter were settled. “We’re gonna be late. Come on.”

Danny had to jog a little to catch up. He was surprised when Jason veered off the street and into an open parking garage but didn’t object, Danny could feel playful anticipation coming from Jason now and he was eager to push aside the tense death talk even if it meant a detour.

Jason hesitated, looking down a few rows cautiously as if he wasn’t sure which way he wanted to go.

“What are you even looking for? We’ve gotta go Jace.” Danny tried.

“This.” Jason declared dramatically as he found what he wanted. He slapped the dark shape of a car under a dusty tarp.

Before Danny could ask for more clarification, Jason pulled the tattered edge of the plastic sheet, and it slid off to reveal a surprisingly nice car. It was a dark blue four door sedan and unlike the rest of the garage it was actually in great condition. The outside was a little dusty and there were a few empty wrappers on the floor of the front passenger seat but otherwise everything was clean.

Jason slid something into the frame and the driver’s door popped open. He looked at Danny and grinned. Then Jace climbed into the drivers seat and unlocked the rest of the doors.

Danny couldn’t help the slightly wild way he grinned back as he climbed in the passenger side to meet him. Once again, he felt almost transported to the past.

“Are we stealing a car right now?”

“We’re borrowing a car right now.” Jace corrected although he was clearly delighting in the minor crime. “Without permission.”

Danny laughed, watching while Jason easily hotwired the car.

“Why?”

Jason sat up as the engine engaged, he glanced at Danny and then at the rear view mirror as he backed out of their spot.

“Well for one that asshole deserves it for breaking my fuckin door an for two we need a car.” Jace explained, still looking at the mirror.

“Jazz doesn’t have that much stuff-“ Danny tried to argue but Jason cut him off with his laughter.

Jason shifted into drive and met Danny’s eyes for a moment.

“Danny did you think we were just gonna walk to the airport?” Jason asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling up with amusement.

“It’s not that far!” Danny insisted stubbornly.

Why was Jason laughing at him?

“God. Sometimes I forget you’re still a small town boy at heart.” Jason lamented theatrically. “Just a little country bumpkin-“

“Jaaaasssson.”

“Danny.” Jason replied. “Have you ever walked to the airport? Any airport?”

Usually when Danny flew with Vlad he always had a car take them to the airport. The few times he’d flown with his parents to visit his aunt they would ask a neighbor to drive them and then aunt Alicia would pick them up there.

“Well no-“

“That’s because you can’t walk to the airport Danny. Pay attention when we get close.”

“What do you mean you cant?” Danny asked.

“Look.”

As they got closer to the airport the lanes doubled once and then twice completely eradicating the sidewalk.

“Oh my god you can’t walk to the airport.” Danny breathed. How stupid was he? Was Jason right? Had he lost some braincells one of the times he died?

Jason just laughed.

Danny didn’t feel ashamed the way he might have if someone else were there to witness his stupidity- and it did feel stupid now that it had been said aloud. (Of course, you can’t walk to the airport) Despite the outward derision, Jason didn’t actually think anything less of Danny. It was hard to feel shame when you could feel how much the person you’re with loves you, it made Danny think of Jazz.

Maybe introducing Jason and Jazz wouldn’t be that bad, Danny had long considered Jace as his little brother. Maybe it would even be nice if his big sister and little brother got along. They were both literally the worst- but they were Danny’s. Besides, he was going to have to come clean to Jazz at some point anyways, maybe it would be better to rip off the metaphorical band aid.

Danny was still trying to convince himself that this was a good idea when they pulled up to the arrivals gate.

Jazz was easy to see on the nearly empty sidewalk, leaning up against one of the support pillars with a textbook in one hand and her bag in the other.

“Yeah pull over right here.” Danny told Jace, already opening the car door. As soon as the car had slowed down enough he jumped out. “Why didn’t you call me when you deboarded?” Danny shouted in lieu of a greeting.

“Danny!” Jazz ignored his question, throwing her arms around him as if they’d been separated for a year instead of a few short days.

“Eugh- Jazz stop”

She didn't stop. Jazz smushed Danny’s cheeks together, cooing like he was some kind of baby.

“I just missed you soo much my wittle cutie patootie” Jazz teased in a baby voice.

Danny glared at her.

Jace laughed from behind him and Danny felt his face flush.

Jazz stiffened and let go of Danny, sizing Jason up immediately.

“Can I help you?” She asked, her voice sharper than usual.

Jason raised his hands in mock surrender

“Woah there Red, I was invited.” Jason gestured towards Danny. Despite his stance Danny felt something else coming from Jace than the expected anxiety or even amusement. He was- not quite confused but maybe curious? The feeling he got when starting a new book. The feeling was a bone deep fondness but with an edge to it, like the adrenaline spike Jace felt in his pixie boots for the first time, looking down at the ground from the edge of a tall building.

Understanding dawned on Danny in a crash.

Jace was interested in Jazz.

oOo

The Gotham Airport smelled like bleach, that was the first thing Jazz noticed when she landed. It was an upgrade from the plane at least where she’d sat between a pre-teen wearing too much body spray and a little old man who, despite being very kind, had clearly eaten something pungent before boarding and his breath made her gag a little bit when she got a whiff head on.

Unfortunately, with the last minute nature of her flight, Jazz hadn’t had a lot of options when she booked the first flight to Gotham to talk to Danny and the seat had been the last thing on her mind. She needed to see Danny in person. Jazz had always advocated for clear communication and if she expected Danny, and everyone else, to take that advice to heart she had to “Practice what she preached.” Even if that meant she spent the whole cramped, migraine inducing flight wishing she had just a little more time to figure out how to talk to Danny.

When she landed, Jazz had a text from Danny letting her know he was on his way to get her- which in little brother meant that she didn’t need to hurry he was running late as usual. Danny always seemed to be running late for something. Jazz knew it wasn’t his fault, he had a lot on his plate, but she wished sometimes Danny would worry about himself instead of the entire world. She’d hoped he would take a break while he was in Gotham, but it seemed like that wasn’t meant to be.

Everyone else in the airport seemed to be in a rush. No one loitered around their gates or spent time chatting on their phones. Even the people who were greeting their friends and family at arrivals did so perfunctorily before loading their cars as efficiently as possible.

“Why didn’t you call me when you deboarded?”

Jazz heard Danny’s affronted voice half a second before she saw him.

“Danny!” Jazz gave her little brother a tight hug, he started squirming almost immediately.

“Jazz stop!”

She pulled back and looked him over. Danny was wearing a leather jacket that was way too big and looked strangely ragged for someone who was supposed to be on vacation. There was a white streak through his hair and Jazz could almost see the electricity still coursing through his aura.

Jazz put her hands on either side of Danny’s face and squeezed his cheeks together. Why couldn’t he manage to stay out of trouble? Even for just a few days? Sometimes she just wanted to squish him like a little bug.

Danny made an exasperated noise and tried to push her away, instead of letting go she doubled down.

“I just missed you so much.” Jazz laughed at the way Danny’s nose scrunched up at her when she used that voice on him. “My wittle cutie patootie.”

Danny gave her a withering glare but Jazz could read him like a book and just gave him one last squish.

Someone laughed at them and Jazz looked over to see the most devastatingly handsome ghost she’d ever laid eyes on. The mystery man had a streak through his slightly disheveled curly black hair that matched Danny’s and his dark blue eyes had a sheen of ecto green over them. His face sported a bit of stubble, like he’d forgotten to shave that morning.

“Can I help you?” Jazz asked, a little embarrassed of the high pitch her voice took.

The ghost raised his hands.

“Woah there Red,” The stranger drawled in a deep almost husky voice. “I was invited.” He explained gesturing towards Danny.

“It’s Jazz.” She introduced herself awkwardly, taking a step closer. He looked less like a ghost to her now, more solid although death clearly hung on him like a second skin. “Danny, who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is Jace.” Danny explained evasively. “He grew up in Gotham.”

“Jason,” The man clarified, holding his hand out to Jazz.

She took it with only a little hesitation. His palm was calloused and warm. He was clearly alive, at least partially although she’d never met another liminal like him.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad you could make it out to visit before your classes start.”

So Danny had told him about her. Jazz narrowed her eyes at her little brother before smiling at Jason.

“Thank you, it’s nice to meet you too.”

Jason insisted on helping Jazz put her one bag in the car and kept up polite conversation the whole way out of the airport.

“So Danny told me you’re a psychology major?” Jace asked.

“Yeah I’m doing my undergraduate in Star.” Jazz explained. “The summer semester starts in less than a week- on Monday. So I just have a few days.” She laughed a little at herself. “I shouldn’t have come at all.”

It was true she really didn’t have time for this trip at all. Jazz had carefully planned out her entire summer to maximize the amount of schoolwork she could get out of the way. If she was going to have any chance of getting an internship before Danny started college she needed to get in gear.

“Well I, for one, am very glad you made the time.” Jason responded politely with a teasing wink.

Jazz couldn’t help the startled giggle that slipped from her mouth. Ancients, forgive her!

Danny made a fake puking noise behind his hand and gave her a pointed glare.

Jazz laughed again, this time at Danny. He’d always been overprotective but it had gotten worse around the time of his accident. Jazz couldn’t be completely sure if it was a result of the physical changes he underwent, the mental trauma of his own death or if Danny would have always been an over protective younger brother as soon as she’d started dating.

“Thank you for taking the time to pick me up Jason, I really appreciate it.” Jazz touched his arm when she said his name and could almost hear Danny grind his teeth.

“It’s no problem, really.” Jason insisted, glancing away from the road just long enough to meet her gaze.

“So,” Danny interrupted loudly from the backseat. “How was your flight sis?”

Jazz rolled her eyes but answered anyways.

“It was really,” She paused, looking for something positive to say about the experience. “Insightful. I got through four chapters of my text on Macro Economics. I think it’s going to be a really interesting class.”

“Math credits?” Jace asked, crinkling his nose a bit as if he found it distasteful.

“Elective actually. I finished all my math last semester.” Jazz explained.

“Someone’s a smarty pants.” Jason teased her again with a low whistle.

“Of course she is.” Danny spat, interrupting again from the backseat. “Didn’t you ever wonder where I got it from Jace?” he asked with that mischievous grin he always got when he thought he was being clever. “Jazz taught me everything I know. She basically raised me.”

It was true, although neither she nor Danny often acknowledged it out loud. Jazz had taken a lot of the parental responsibility for Danny even when they were both very young. From the moment Jazz held her baby brother in the hospital room she knew he needed her and she would do anything if it meant keeping him safe.

“Not everything.” Jazz reached into the backseat to ruffle Danny’s hair, rolling her eyes at the way he practically squawked in indignation. She added, “I don’t know where you learned to be such a troublemaker.”

Danny stuck out his tongue but didn’t even attempt to defend himself.

“So why did you come to Gotham anyways?” Danny asked. “Not that I didn’t want to see you.” He added hastily.

“Oh you know.” Jazz deflected. “This and that.” She had almost forgotten why she had to talk to Danny and the realization sobered her of her good mood a little. Why was it that she couldn’t just spend a little time enjoying the company of an attractive man? Was that really so wrong?

Jazz ignored the tiny voice in her head that told her yes and forged on.

“I’d love to hear about your new friend though, Danny. Jason, what do you do?” She asked with a smile that she hoped looked a little less forced than it felt.

Oddly, both Danny and Jason reacted when Jazz called Jace his new friend. There was clearly more of a story there although neither of them decided to share it with her.

“I’m a mechanic.” Jason recovered quickly.

“Oh that’s interesting.” Jazz replied sincerely. “You work on cars?”

Danny and she had been around garages and workshops since before they could walk. Mechanical engineering wasn’t something that pulled her interest the way it did to Danny but she could appreciate a well built machine as much as the next girl

“Bikes mostly.” Jason explained. “I work at a garage down in the Alley.” He paused and then added. “I have to keep a pretty flexible schedule. I do some outreach work and teach self defense classes at the youth shelter.”

Ancients! That was not fair. He worked on motorcycles and he taught self defense to poor kids?

“Self defense?” Jazz asked.

Danny groaned from the backseat, obviously annoyed with her for stealing his friend.

Jazz was being polite though, she had to make conversation with Jason. She wasn’t flirting. Jazz was busy. Even if she was open to a relationship right now she certainly didn’t have time to flirt while she was in Gotham.

 How cruel was fate that she would serve Jazz the most delicious meal during her fast?

“Yeah.” Jace explained. “Just basic stuff. Most of em couldn't win a real fight but it gives them a chance to run away.”

“Thats really- noble of you.” Jazz said, wishing she had another word to use.

Jason didn’t seem to mind though, his ears turned red almost like he was blushing.

“Well I try” he responded in an odd tone that made Jazz certain people didn’t tell him they appreciated Jason’s efforts enough.

“Oh look,” Danny unbuckled his seatbelt and physically leaned in between them. “We’re pretty much here.”

“Damnit Danny! Put your seatbelt- sit back-“

“Look Jazz.” Danny talked right over the top of her and Jason laughed at his antics. “It’s our hotel. We’re here. Thanks again for stealing a car to drive us Jace! We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

“You stole a car?” Jazz asked, it was something she could definitely see Danny doing.

“Borrowed!” Jason corrected. “We borrowed my brother’s car.”

Jason pulled up to the curb and Danny started making a production of getting out of the car as if he thought that would make her move faster. He should have known better. Fentons were stubborn.

“Bye Jace. See ya later alligator!” Danny called.

“Well either way, thanks.” Jazz said, she looked over at where Danny was impatiently gesturing her over from the sidewalk. “For the ride and you know, keeping that idiot out of trouble.” She nodded towards her little brother.

“Of course, anytime.” Jason responded quickly. “It was really great to meet you, Jazz.” He held her gaze for a long time.

“You too Jason.” She answered back.

Jason opened his mouth like he was going to say something and then closed it again.

Jazz waited to see if he’d change his mind. He didn’t.

“I probably should go upstairs.” Jazz finally admitted. “Danny and I have some catching up to do.”

“Yeah.” Jason swallowed. “You should do that.”

“Bye.” Jazz gave an awkward little wave. Then she got out of the car.

Danny grabbed Jazz’s hand, practically dragging her towards the wide glass doors.

“I have so much I need to tell you about.” Danny started babbling and Jazz wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Wait! Jazz!”

She turned around to see Jason, he was a little out of breath and she could see the car still idling in the loading zone.

“Look I know you’re only here for a few days before you’ve gotta go back to Star but if you find yourself with a little extra time,” Jason said. He looked around and then grabbed a pamphlet from next to the elevators and pulled a pen out of his pocket. “I teach classes down at the rec center pretty much every Monday and Friday- unless there's a rogue attack bad enough to close the roads.” He explained scrawling his number across the paper. “If you’re interested I can give you some tips and everyone’ll be happy to see a new face.” Then he hesitated before adding, “I would be happy to see you again too.”

“I-“ Jazz wanted to say yes. Jason was exactly her type, he was handsome in a rugged sorta dangerous way but clearly very soft on the inside. She wanted an excuse to spend more time with him. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Jace.” She took the Pamphlet from his hand before she could second guess herself.

Outside a car honked. Jason turned around to look.

“Oh shit, I’m holding everyone up-“ Jason made deliberate eye contact and Jazz felt her chest tighten. “Seriously, Jazz. Text me.”

Jazz nodded before she even realized she was agreeing.

“Hey Asshole!” The driver in the car behind Jason’s had gotten out and was looking around for him. “Move your goddamn car!”

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Bye!” Danny called from where he had stopped and was still stubbornly waiting for her. “Again.”

“Bye.” Jazz echoed.

Another car started honking and Jason smiled ruefully.

“Calm your tits! I’m comin!” Jason shouted behind him. Then he met Jazz’s gaze once more and a softer tone he murmured, “see ya later.” Jason glanced once more at Danny and then turned around to face the angry drivers.

“Jazz.” Danny’s voice broke Jazz out of her haze. He sounded almost reproachful.

Jazz almost agreed with him.

Entertaining the idea of seeing Jason again was selfish. There were a million reasons she couldn’t get into any sort of relationship right now.

Would you still feel that way if you’d met Jason last week? Jazz couldn’t help but ask herself, sometimes she wished she could just turn off the psychoanalyzing portion of her brain.

“So, why’d you come to Gotham?” Danny asked again as soon as the elevator doors closed behind them.

Of course he’d picked up on her deflection earlier.

“Where did you and Jason meet?” Jazz asked instead of answering.

“Does it matter?” Danny asked too quickly. “You’re avoiding my question.” He accused.

“I’m not the only one.” She rebutted. “Danny.”

Danny looked a little bit sheepish, like the time Jazz had accidentally caught him behind the bleachers with Dash.

“Look Jazz,” He admitted after a short pause where they got off the elevator on their floor. “Jace and I met in the Infinite Realms, okay?” He didn’t stop to let her answer. “It was a while ago and the situation was… complicated. And it’s really not my story to tell.”

That just made Jazz more curious. Danny generally had no filter. His tendency to overshare disappearing overnight was actually the first thing that tipped Jazz off to Danny having a secret after he got his ghost powers. Once again there was obviously something else going on, something Danny wanted to keep from her.

On the other hand, here he was asking her for privacy, trying to communicate his needs. Jazz knew sometimes Danny saw her as overbearing and she had been trying really hard to let him have space. She trusted him but Danny always seemed to get himself involved in things that were much too big for her to fix, and it made her anxious. Danny was her baby brother; she was supposed to fix things for him.

Jazz sighed and waited for Danny to slide the little plastic room key into the door. She waited for him to get completely into the room and face her before she finally spoke.

“Fine.” She conceded. “But if you need help, I want to be your first call. Deal?”

“Deal.” Danny agreed. He flopped down on the bed, only relaxing for a minute before he sat back upright. “Shit I almost forgot. Gimme that.” He took the art museum brochure that Jason’s number was scrawled on from where she set it by the door.

“Hey!” Jazz objected. “What are you- Are you texting him? Danny!”

“Not about you!” Danny insisted. “It’s about something else. I meant to talk to him about it and then I forgot because-“ he broke off.

“Because you were busy being a jealous little pest?” Jazz offered.

Danny just shot her a glare from over his phone as he continued his text.

Jazz watched him. Was now the right time to talk to Danny? The longer she put it off the more nervous she got. She didn’t think Danny would be upset at her, or at least he wouldn’t admit it if he were, but she knew that change could be difficult for anyone and the longer he had to get used to the idea the better.

“Look, Jazz.” Danny started in an oddly serious tone before she could say anything. “You should probably stay away from Jason. At least you know- romantically.”

Jazz crossed her arms across her chest and didn’t say anything. She knew Danny could feel her indignation; she didn’t need to voice it.

“Not like that!” Danny defended himself. “It’s complicated. He’s just- You aren’t.”

Danny always stuttered like that when he knew he was wrong. It was always the first sign that Jazz would win an argument.

“He’s liminal.” Jazz interceded, feeling a little bit guilty for working Danny up. “I could tell.”

“No!” Danny objected automatically, “Well yes, but that’s not all Jazz. It’s really-“

“And he died.” Jazz finished for him. Did Danny really think she wouldn’t clock it? Or was she just faster than he’d envisioned? “Danny, He has the same skunk stripe you get after you come back.” She reached over and tugged at the end of one of the locks of hair that was still bright white at the tip in explanation. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that either.” Jazz could see splotches of what looked like blood under Danny’s jacket and intended to wrangle that story out of him before she left as well.

“He’s got a lot going on.” Danny insisted stubbornly, ignoring her implication. “It’s just not a good idea.”

“Unlike either of us?” Jazz asked sarcastically. “Or Robin for that matter?”

Jazz could feel Danny’s reaction to that. She wasn’t as sensitive to ectoplasm as a ghost or a halfa like Danny, but she could still feel it when her little brother’s control slipped a little.

“Robin is my soulmate!” Danny nearly shouted, his eyes flashing so quickly she wouldn’t have caught it if she hadn’t been expecting it. Then in a lower voice he added, “It’s different.”

Right. Soulmates pretty much made everything different.

Jazz sighed and sank down next to Danny on the bed.

“You’re right.” She admitted. “That is different, and I shouldn’t have equated the two.” Jazz paused and took Danny’s hand in hers. “I’ll leave Jason alone if you really want me to but Danny you need to ask yourself if you really think it would be better for him or if this has more to do with your feelings towards me.”

Danny groaned and fell onto his back dramatically. He covered his face and gave a soft scream into his elbow.

“Fine.” He mumbled barely audibly into his hands. “Jus be careful”

Jazz smiled and tried to tug him back up.

“Come on, I have more I need to talk to you about.” She told him.

Might as well do this right, she’d already begun this emotional roller-coaster, might as well ride it to the end.

Danny opened his eyes but didn’t move so Jazz flopped down next to him.

“So, I actually came to Gotham because I wanted to talk to you before my classes start.” Jazz began carefully. It was important she told Danny the truth and was reassuring but she didn’t want to sound practiced. “I know you are going through a lot of changes in your life, especially with me away at college and now Robin-“

“But you’ll always love me.” Danny finished for her in a half teasing tone before turning sincere. “I know Jazzy. And it means a lot to me that you’re being so cool. I know the ghost stuff was hard on you too and I really appreciate that you trust me enough to deal with Batman on my own.”

Jazz felt her eyes tear up a little. That wasn’t even close to what she was going to say but hearing her little brother not only express his appreciation for her but so articulately as if he was actually listening to her rants about communication- ugh she just loved him so much. She pulled Danny in for a hug.

“I actually was hoping to talk to you about the whole soulmate switching thing.” Jazz finally admitted.

Danny wiggled out of her hold and turned to face her.

“It’s the worst Jazz!” Danny complained. “I mean Robin is great but its like I’ve been cursed or something! So, at the party last night,” Danny launched into a story about Technus interrupting a robbery.

Jazz listened to Danny dutifully.

“Do you think it’s Clockwork? Is he trying to drive me insane? I already have like a million things to do for Nell while I’m in Gotham, not to mention trying to court Robin. Why would CW make everything worse?”

Jazz sometimes thought that she’d enjoy working with the Office of Lost Souls. It was entirely possible she’d become a soul guide for a while after she died. When Danny told her that he was doing some work with them the first time a few months ago she’d been interested but not nearly as surprised as Danny expected her to be. Danny had always been a very empathetic person and that had only grown more pronounced after his death with the addition of his ghostly abilities. It seemed like a no brainer to Jazz that Danny would feel called to help those ghosts who felt trapped like he had.

While Danny continued to complain about Clockwork, Jazz started unpacking. Vlad had offered to get her her own room, but Jazz declined. She’d only be here a few days, and she’d rather spend that time with Danny even if it meant taking the pull-out couch.

It was actually kind of nice to see Danny like this, rambling about his issues and the boy he liked as if he were any normal teenager.

Jazz had been doing her best to give Danny a normal childhood, but it had been a doomed project from the start. Normal teenagers didn’t have to check their food for radioactivity, normal teenagers didn’t have to hide a secret identity from their parents, normal teenagers worried about grades not the fate of the universe. Jazz tried to help; she tried to support Danny.

Sometimes, like now, Danny got so wrapped up in his own worries he barely noticed what she was doing but Jazz didn’t really mind. It might actually be better that Danny didn’t have to confront the things she sacrificed for him.  Unfortunately, it also made it harder for Jazz to bring the conversation back around to her own news.

Jazz was tired, she’d been on too many flights in too few days. First to Star and then from there to Gotham. She glanced at the clock on her phone. Ancients, she must be more tired than she thought, it was already well after two in the afternoon.

The worst thing about travelling was the way time seemed to move simultaneously too fast and too slow. Jazz and Danny were supposed to go to some dinner thing with Vlad tonight and Jazz was already ready to go to sleep for the next sixteen hours.

“I’m gonna need caffeine before dinner.” Jazz declared.

Vlad had some sort of dinner party thing planned nearly every night Jazz would be in town and wanted her to be there, probably to keep an eye on Danny.

“Oh, I know the perfect place!”

Danny took Jazz to a coffee shop that was across the street from the hotel. It was a short walk, less than five minutes probably but Jazz could see why Gotham had the reputation it does. Even here in what was one of the nicer downtown areas, everyone rushed as if one second could be the difference between life and death.

Well, maybe it was.

Amity hadn’t reacted to the ghost threat like that, not really. Even during the height of ghost attacks- when there were upwards of half a dozen ghosts a day for weeks on end people hadn’t reacted like that. The citizens of Amity Park had perhaps gone a little feral, they carried weapons and even fought literally tooth and nail when necessary to keep the dead from impacting their day-to-day lives. Unlike the Gothamites who seemed almost physically weighed down by the air of violence, the people of Amity had grown bolder under the attacks as if maintaining the status quo was an act of protest in itself.

When they walked through the front door, Danny made a beeline for the counter. He was like a bloodhound when it came to sugary caffeinated beverages.

Jazz glanced around the room; unlike the street the coffee shop was actually pretty cozy. She automatically began mapping exits and cataloguing the other patrons. Danny liked to pretend he was invulnerable, but Jazz knew just how wrong that was, and it drove her crazy when he just walked right into things without looking.

The coffee shop was warm and smelled comfortingly like Jazz’ favorite that she and Danny used to study at back in Amity when their parents’ experiments were too loud for them to work at home. Once, in high school during one of his more hectic weeks, when he was operating on the bare minimum amount of sleep, Danny had fallen asleep. Jazz felt him slump against her but hadn’t thought anything of it until she glanced up to see his mocha slowly tilting to the side in Danny’s lax grip. The owner of the coffee shop, a little old lady who called Jazz “Jesabell” and never remembered to refill the napkin dispensers, brought over a blanket and turned down the overhead lights in their corner so he could keep sleeping.

Jazz had to blink back a sudden rush of tears. Ancients! Thinking about that kind of stuff always turned into pain.

Danny, probably sensing her feelings, shot Jazz an inquisitive look but she waved him away. Sometimes it was annoying to have a baby brother who could physically feel your emotions, especially now. Jazz didn’t know how much Danny actually thought about their shared childhood, it was a topic they rarely spoke about.

At the time Jazz had only been annoyed with their parents for being loud but in hindsight incidents like that made her blood boil. She knew that if she described the situation to one of her psychology professors as a hypothetical, they would use words like insecurity, neglect, and even abuse. Jazz knew logically that her own delayed trauma response was textbook for victims of childhood neglect and that they often found themselves processing those emotions once they found themselves in a safe space. What she didn’t know was what to do about all of it.

Thinking about it made Jazz feel out of control, like she was about to frenzy. Jazz might not have as much ectoplasm running through her body as Vlad or Danny, but she had been exposed to more than her fair share of containment breaches even before Danny died. While most liminals didn’t have any powers beyond the ability to see lower strength specters and some increased strength they inherited the ability to frenzy much like a ghost did although from Danny’s accounts the dead seemed to be more consumed by it.

When a ghost had enough emotion about something, often their obsessions, their eyes would glow and the emotions would spread to those around them, growing in strength and echoing back in a seemingly endless loop- until it did end. Usually when they ran out of drive or lost focus, liminals absorbed less ectoplasm than ghosts and didn’t feel each other’s emotions as clearly as the dead so their frenzies rarely lasted more than a few minutes or got intense enough to completely consume one another but Jazz still had to struggle to keep herself under control sometimes when she felt too much.

Jazz forced her eyes back towards the other customers to distract herself. Surprisingly, since they weren’t particularly close to any college or high school campus’, the coffee shop had a lot of younger patrons. There was a big group of teenagers a little younger than Danny laughing and working on some sort of project in the center of the shop with three tables pushed together, a few feet away a couple who looked like they were on a first date leaned in closer to converse. The atmosphere made Jazz feel better and when it was her turn to order her voice sounded steady, which she counted as a win.

Three new people walked in and headed straight for a booth; Jazz followed them curiously with her eyes. The newcomers looked familiar, but Jazz couldn’t place them. They looked like they had each dressed for a different event, the oldest looked like he might be homeless in a patched sweatshirt pulled low over his head, with a blanket draped over one shoulder and dust caked hands but when he reached across the table Jazz could see a shiny gold designer wristwatch under his sleeve. Accompanying him was a gorgeous woman who, although she looked a little young, was wearing hospital scrubs as if she’d just gotten off a shift. Finally rounding out their group was a blonde teenager with a high ponytail and wearing oversized novelty glasses, the kind with a nose and plastic mustache already attached.

“Danny!”

Danny walked up to the counter to collect his drink.

Without context Jazz couldn’t place where she’d seen them before. Maybe there was some kind of convention in town? She wracked her brains, trying to remember.

Still thinking about the mystery in front of her, Jazz glanced at Danny to see why he was taking so long.

Danny was leaning against the counter, and he was talking to someone. No, Jazz corrected herself, Danny was giggling and making way more eye contact than normal- Danny was flirting. The guy he was with was familiar too and this time Jazz figured it out easily, that was Damian Wayne.

But why would Danny flirt with one of the Waynes? He had a soulmate.

Oh

Oh.

Jazz could see it on him if she concentrated, the way Damian’s aura was becoming stained with Danny’s. It would only get more pronounced the more they were around one another.

Trying not to interrupt, Jazz skirted around the boys to grab her drink. She thought about sitting by herself to watch, Danny would probably be annoyed with her later, but he couldn’t say anything since he’d totally blown her off for Robin. Then she got a better idea, she might as well sit with the rest of the spectators. Jazz sat down at the booth adjacent to the poorly disguised vigilantes and settled in for the show.

Jazz had been planning on finally telling Danny her news but it’s not like she couldn’t put it off for another few hours. It was hard to be annoyed with him when he looked so obviously happy with Robin, especially when she knew she’d be bursting his bubble soon. She didn’t know exactly how much time she had to come clean, but it would be better if she did it soon, right?

Either way Danny was bound to find out about her most recent development sometime in the next twenty-eight days.

Chapter Text

Their target entered the coffee shop at two fifty-seven pm, only three minutes ahead of schedule.

Superboy, who had been assigned to communications for this mission, informed his partner of the development.

“Target is within range.”

Robin had prepared for up to a forty-five-minute deviation today and had a contingency plan in place for tomorrow if the target hadn’t showed today. Luckily Robin’s theory that this would be their first stop was proven correct eight minutes ago when they had exited the elevator into the lobby of the hotel across the street and Superboy initiated the third phase of today’s mission.

“Tt. I can see that.” Robin replied testily, moving off to the side to make sure his face was hidden.

Phase one, as always, had been taken by research and planning. Usually, Robin tried to insist on doing it all himself, spouting some nonsense about being a better detective even though Jon was no slouch at investigating. Today, however, he actually got a chance to showcase his skills in the art of information gathering.

The initial plan was Robin’s although he personally thought Danny deserved at least part of the credit for inspiring the idea. Jon was the one who spliced together the meet cute scenes from a few dozen romantic comedies for them to study and answered Damian’s questions about them. If they had more time Jon would have insisted they watch the movies all the way through for context, but Robin said they didn’t have time for a movie marathon.

Robin remained stoic throughout the entire experience, his eyes trained on Jon’s laptop screen as if it might run away. Jon was used to him being overly serious, but the way Robin leaned towards the screen while making neat notes on the actors’ body language made Jon want to coo. (No one could blame him if he snuck a photo or two for Nightwing)

Phase two was prep work. For most missions this included negotiating with law enforcement, setting up traps or donning elaborate disguises. Today it was a few simple bribes that Jon honestly thought were unnecessary- The barista seemed happy to help them with their meet-cute before Damian slipped a hundred-dollar bill into the tip jar- and getting into position.

And now they were onto phase three, execution of the plan.

Danny got in line before the young woman Jon recognized from the briefing as his sister. He looked different than he had on the camera footage this morning, the giant scar that stretched across his body was smaller and the irritation surrounding it had faded. Danny must have accelerated healing.

Damian hadn’t briefed him on Danny’s meta status but that wasn’t really a surprise. Damian could be weird about information he deemed “tactically relevant” in general and was especially protective of his new soulmate.

It was weird for Jon, seeing Damian so concerned for someone else. If anyone had told him Damian would be displaying such obvious anxiety in public four years ago Jon would have assumed they were crazy- or very misinformed. Damian was usually unaffected by what other people thought of him, it was one of the things Jon had always admired most about him.

The barista gave Damian a wink as they deliberately placed two drinks at the pickup counter while only calling Danny’s name.

Everything was going exactly right. Danny picked up both drinks, obviously assuming one was his sisters.

“Excuse me, I believe that one is mine.”

Danny turned towards Damian nearly in slow motion, it was like the perfect scene from a romantic comedy. His face quickly shifted from surprise to glee as he realized what was happening. He looked down at the cups in his hand, one was clearly labelled with Danny’s name but the other had Damian’s.

“Iced Snickerdoodle mocha for Jazz!” The barista called out, right on time.

Hell Yeah! Jon did a silent fist pump. It was working!

“Sorry.” Danny said without any sincerity, a grin still splitting his face. He brought Damian’s drink to his lips and took a long drink. “Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” he asked with a flutter of eyelashes.

Jon had to struggle not to laugh into the comms at the look of complete bafflement that settled over Damian’s face. Gods! Jon liked Danny more and more by the minute. It had been hard to imagine what Damian’s perfect match would look like, once upon a time Jon would have guessed they would be just as stoic and serious as him but the more he saw of the two of them together the easier it was to picture Damian with someone so unlike himself.

Damian opened his mouth and then closed it again, apparently at a loss for words- something else Jon would never have believed if he wasn’t seeing it himself.

Danny handed Damian his drink gently.

“How about some company while you finish that,” Danny glanced down at the drink as if reminding himself, “Damian?”

“Yes, I- That would be-Of course.” Damian replied.

Jon zoomed in on his best friend’s face, was he having a stroke or could he be that nervous? Unless there was an equipment malfunction Damian was actually blushing. While he knew Robin wasn’t as emotionless as he tried to make people believe Jon had never seen him look as unsure as he did now. Of all the words that could be used to describe Damian Wayne, Robin, or the Demon’s Heir nervous had never been one of them and yet here he was clearly hesitating to follow as Danny sat at one of the tables near the door.

“Today seemed like a good day to cash in that rain cheque.” Damian blurted.

Jon did snort out loud that time. Damian didn’t say anything, but his fist tightened as he heard the sound through his comm.

Danny, however, didn’t call Damian out on the clearly rehearsed and out of place line. Instead, he still looked thrilled with the turn of events.

“This is so corny.” Danny remarked although his smile didn’t diminish. “Thanks.”

Damian nodded and started to say something that was lost to the static when he cut the feed to Jon’s computer.

No!

Jon futilely tried to pull back up the video stream. He’d known it was coming, it was always a part of the plan, but he’d been enjoying watching the show.

Oh well. At least he’d get to be the best man at their wedding.

oOo

“Calm down. Your nerves are setting me on edge.” Danny said the words in a soft tone that was teasing but edged with real concern.

Damian frowned. He was not nervous. Sitting across the table from Danny, with that sunny smile trained on him Damian felt something, but it wasn’t nerves. He knew what it felt like to be nervous. It might not be something he admitted often but Damian had once been small and prone to uncontrollable feelings. He had been nervous the first time he went on a mission for his grandfather; he had been nervous every time he was disciplined for failure in Nanda Parbat and he had definitely been nervous the day he had finally met his father. Damian could vividly recall the solid, heavy feeling in his chest, the way it compressed and twisted uncomfortably as if a thick band were wound around his internal organs.

So, no. Damian was not nervous. This fluttering panic that pulled him towards Danny was something else. Being nervous made him want to turn and run away but right now all Damian wanted was the opposite.  

“Tt. I’m not nervous.” Damian refuted automatically, regretting it immediately.

Pennyworth had given him strict instructions to be on his least contrary behavior for the occasion lest he inadvertently start a quarrel that could easily be avoided.

While Superboy had been able to aid with researching the ‘meet cute’ portion of this mission Damian had been forced to seek advice on interpersonal relationship etiquette elsewhere. Unfortunately, Wayne Manor was severely lacking in suitable candidates. Father or Richard would likely be thrilled to provide assistance however their current and past romantic relationships disqualified them for obvious reasons. Drake, while infuriating on a personal level, might have been a possible source of information if not for the poor judgment he displayed on choosing the clone of all his potential paramours. Danny was clearly perfect, which meant Damian had to be perfect. He could not settle for less. Which, of course, brought him straight to Pennyworth.

“Okay.” Danny voiced his agreement, but it was clearly more playful than acquiescing. “My mistake, you’re clearly very relaxed.”

“Are you always this sarcastic?” Damian asked. He mentally kicked himself for being so blunt, he hadn’t meant to say that.

He wasn’t offended though, instead Danny laughed as if he was delighted by the question. He leaned forward, setting his elbows on the table.

“Pretty much.” He answered laying his chin in his hands, “is that a problem Dami?”

Damian was suddenly very glad he’d turned off Superboy’s feed. Jonathan surely would have been able to hear the way Damian’s breath hitched. He didn’t know why the nickname affected him so strongly, he’d heard it hundreds of times before although never with such intensity.

“Of course not. I was merely curious." Damian replied after a too long pause. Then before his bravery could desert him, he added, “We will be spending a lot of time together. It seems prudent to obtain as much information regarding your personality and preferences as possible.” He was proud of how confident he sounded that he and Danny would have some sort of lasting relationship, but the second sentence came out too fast and undermined it.

“Alright then. Any other pressing questions?” Danny leaned back, his posture open and inviting.

Damian took a drink of his tea while he was considering. He had a lot of questions for Danny but most of them couldn’t be addressed in such a public setting. What did civilians talk about?

“Do you like dogs?” The question burst from his lips before Damian had properly considered a response. It had been on the very long list of topics prepared as a contingency by Jon against his will. He had scoffed at it originally but perhaps Jonathan had a point- it couldn’t hurt to begin on familiar territory. Given the dog treats in his bag at the time of the switch it seemed likely Danny would be amiable to such topics.

“Yes! I have one- well he’s not mine exactly but I take care of him.” Danny started telling Damian a story in which a puppy, who sounded stronger willed than even Alfred the cat, harassed the town's mayor on live television.

Damian relaxed as he his first mission objective; engage the target in conversation by opening a casual low-pressure dialogue.

“Do you have any pets?”

Damian showed Danny the photo of Titus that served as his phone's lock screen background image.

“Ancients! He is so cute!” Danny’s voice went high pitched, “what a handsome boy.”

“In addition to Titus I also have a cat, a turkey, and a cow.”

Danny insisted on seeing photos of each of Damian’s pets and cooed appropriately when they were produced.

“Her ears look soo soft! I always wanted a pet. We can’t have animals in the house- lab work, you know?”

Damian nodded although he didn’t see why the Fenton’s occupation precluded them from having pets.

“Right, your parents are scientists?”

Objective two: remember to ask personal questions even if you don’t care about the answer. Jonathan wrote that one.

“Ectobiologists.” Danny replied, with an eye roll.

Damian nodded again. Did Danny realize that half the things that came out of his mouth were incomprehensible? He almost asked but thought better of it.

“The mayor Cujo terrorized, would that be Mayor Masters?”

“Yeah. They get along a little better now, but Cujo has never liked him.”

Damian thought back to their encounter with Mayor Masters. There was something off about him. Something besides the usual high-class eccentricities.

“He isn’t your uncle.” He stated slowly. “At least not by blood.”

“Nope.” Danny agreed. “He’s not.”

“I noticed he called you Daniel.” Damian knew he was probably slipping too far towards interrogation mode, but he needed to ask. “Where exactly does that put him on the venn diagram?”

Damian could see understanding of his reference in Danny’s eyes, so he knew that wasn’t why Danny took a moment to respond. Perhaps it was a mistake to bring up that topic here.

“It’s complicated.”

“How?”

Danny smiled, it wasn’t the same one as earlier Danny had more smiles than Damian had swords it seemed, this smile was rueful and almost sad.

“He’s not my uncle, but Vlad is still family.” Danny explained simply.

Damian didn’t like that answer. He would have objected to it, but with the frequency his own family had attempted homicide he didn’t have any room to speak.

“I suppose I should apologize for my family’s behavior.” Damian said instead.

“It’s cool.” Danny brushed it off. “Mine is a little weird sometimes too. Did Tim tell you I want my sword back?” He asked the question with a hint of mock reproach.

Damian rolled his eyes but retrieved the aforementioned object from his coat pocket. When not in use the hilt was smaller than a portable charger and just as unobtrusive. It had been relatively intuitive to retract the energy blade and as far as he could tell it wasn’t low on power even after the fairly intense battle. He hesitated to relinquish it.

“Where did you get it?”

“I made it.” Danny explained, “Normal weapons don’t affect ghosts. It’s supposed to look like a lightsaber but obviously it’s not actually as dangerous to humans.”

“I’ve never seen it’s like.” Damian commented. It was true.

“Yeah. I’m very attached to it.” Danny replied, his gaze narrowing a little.

Damian finally handed it over even though he loathed the prospect of losing a tactical advantage. He knew what it was like to have an emotional attachment to a weapon.

“I was impressed.” He said, “with the way you handled the situation at the party.”

Objective three: Remember to compliment the boy for gods’ sake. That one had been Pennyworth’s.

“Yeah?” Danny asked, his face falling back into that oh so familiar flirty grin. “I was impressed with you. That was pretty good for your first ghost fight.”

“Pretty good?” Damian objected, leaning forward so they wouldn’t be overheard. “I was in excellent form.”

“Yeah. Your form is excellent.” Danny’s eyes raked up and down Damian’s seated body in a way that made him feel inexplicably warm all over.

Damian cleared his throat and leaned back again. Were they sitting directly below the heater?

“The party was interesting.” Damian commented instead. “Your classmates seem more than adequate.”

“More than adequate?” Danny repeated, laughing. “I don’t know that I would go that far.”

“No, I was truly impressed. They handled themselves quite well, especially Manson.” Damian hesitated again. How was one supposed to ask questions without interrogating?

Damian had always been proud of his education in Nanda Parbat. He knew that some parts would be considered less than savory by others, but he had always been confident that his education was considerably more thorough than his peers, now he wasn’t so sure. Although he had read through the curriculum Damian couldn’t help but wonder if there had been some sort of lesson on small talk or perhaps a workshop on flirting he’d missed. Why was it that it came so naturally to everyone except him?

“She is great!” Danny rescued Damian from having to elaborate. “We’ve been friends for like ever. You’ll like her.” He asserted confidently. “Tucker too. He’s a tech nerd but we love him anyways.”

“Tucker was the one on the phone last night?” Damian confirmed. “I would like you to elaborate on what happened last night at some point.”

“Yeah, I’ve actually got a few questions too.” Danny gave a small laugh, “We really went about this in the wrong order, huh?”

Damian wasn’t really sure how to answer that. They certainly had gone about things in a non-traditional way, but he wouldn’t use the word “wrong” to describe it.

“I guess we’ll just have to catch up.” Danny continued with a breathy sigh, before slipping into a slightly brusque tone. “What am I going to have to do to convince you to go out on a date with me?”

Damian didn’t respond at first. He was supposed to be the one to ask that, it was his final mission objective, secure plans for an additional outing. He wasn’t prepared for Danny to ask first.

“Like a real one.” Danny clarified when Damian remained silent. “Where we actually plan on meeting up. Maybe without any masks?”

“Yes.” Damian blurted. He needed to say something else, perhaps suggest an activity. What did civilians like to do? What do people do on dates?

Perhaps he and Jon should have watched more than just the meet cute scenes of those movies for research as Jon had wanted. Perhaps if they had he would know what he was supposed to do.

“Well, there’s an exhibit at the art museum I was thinking I’d like to see.” Danny suggested, once again metaphorically swooping in to Damian’s rescue.

It occurred to Damian that he was doing that a lot. It was almost as if Danny could sense when he was starting to feel panicked grasping for an eloquent response.

“That would be acceptable.” He answered, “would you be amenable to lunch after?”

“Yeah.” Danny agreed easily as if it took no thought at all. “I’ll pick you up? What do you think of like ten on Saturday?”

Damian tried not to grimace, he would have preferred to be the one driving. Damn just a few more months and he’d have his license as well.

“Or we could do some other time if you want?” Danny offered.

“No!” Damian replied hastily. “I mean ten is perfectly acceptable.”

Danny didn’t accept the explanation; he raised his eyebrows in a way that clearly conveyed his skepticism.

How could he see Damian’s thoughts so clearly?

“I’d prefer to meet there.” Damian finally explained.

He’d expected Danny to be annoyed, or at the very least perplexed by the request but he just nodded as if it were inconsequential.

“Yeah, that works.”

Did Danny not want to spend more time with Damian? Was that why he was so calm about this encounter? Because he was simply indifferent? He said he was romantically interested in Damian before, but it was possible he was simply being polite, or that it had started as genuine, but he changed his mind after seeing Damian’s inadequacies in the area of romance.

Perhaps he should have taken more time to prepare himself, obviously he was ill equipped to carry a simple conversation with a peer let alone half of a relationship. Danny, discerning as he was, could surely see just how much he was floundering in the new role.

“Five minutes Danny!” It was Danny’s older sister, Jasmine, that interrupted them from where she was sitting half a room away.

Damian glanced at his wristwatch; it was already past five in the afternoon. He had spent more than two and a half hours in the company of his beloved new soulmate. He should probably wrangle his ogling siblings before much later as well, Pennyworth would be cross if they weren't back at the manor in an hour. There had been something about a mandatory family dinner in the family group chat this morning.

“Can I give you my phone number?” Danny asked with a sheepish grin, as if he thought that Damian might deny such a prudent request. “Then you can text me. If you want. Or whatever.”

Damian handed over his cellular to allow Danny to enter his contact information and then sent him a message so he would have Damian’s information as well.

Danny’s fingers were ice cold where they brushed up against Damian’s, like he’d just been in a blizzard instead of a cozy coffee shop.

And then they were saying their farewells. Damian felt like he was in a dream as Danny and his sister left. He hadn’t planned this far, he hadn’t even thought beyond the date. Now he was untethered, floating in the breeze, light as air and as directionless as a plastic bag.

Fact: Danny asked him out again. He got his phone number.

Damian’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. He could do this. He could pull this off.

Probably.