Chapter Text
John sat with his head in his hands for a while after Phantom- Chthon, whoever- was led out by Wonder Woman and one of Batman’s brood.
He was so, so fucked.
Not only was this Realms Ghost absurdly powerful, Death Magic as thick in the air as humidity in the swamp, even while he was in his muted, "human" guise, but he truly was as old as he looked. This wasn't a child-shaped entity, as he had assumed when he first looked into Amity Park. Phantom was truly a child. He wanted to hang out with his friends and get his homework done. Instead, he was struggling to maintain an Underworld portal, and it was all due to John foisting the responsibility onto the first person who offered to handle it. Clearly, Isaac, whoever and wherever he was, didn't actually have the Realms Ghosts "under control".
And the thought of the red-eyed occultist brought up Batman’s debrief on the recent events in Amity. Phantom had called the enemy magician mind-contolling his acquaintance(? neighbor?) "Freakshow" and "Showenhower". The surname sounded uncomfortably familiar. Was Isaac's last name Showenhower? He couldn't remember for sure. Was John's complacency also indirectly responsible for the Ending of this Vlad guy?
John was damn lucky Phantom showed as much restraint as he had. There was more to his little tirade than non-magicians could perceive, like how the shadows in the room had become darker, how there had been so many eyes glaring out at him from that darkness. A circlet of light had flickered in and out of existence above Phantom’s head as he delivered his ultimatum. His power had been so thick in the air John had almost choked.
John dealt with powerful supernatural entities on the regular and he could tell that despite his age, Phantom had authority. He absolutely had a chance of fulfilling his promise. Phantom could've smote him where he sat and not a single occultist or magician would feel all that sorry for him. He had not done his due diligence when dealing with a new, powerful supernatural entity. He had fucked around, and now John was going to find out.
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"So are the Infinite Realms largely matriarchal?" Diana asked. Danny had been excitedly telling her and Red Robin about the constellations and space objects he could see from the Watchtower's largest window, but Red Robin eventually had to leave, and Danny had trailed off into silence a while ago.
He turned to look at her, visibly pulling his attention back to the world around him. "Not really? Why do you ask?"
"There are two queens among the Infinite Realms delegation. I was just wondering if that's a regular occurrence there?"
Danny tilted his head, thinking about it. "A lot of the Realms are still patriarchal, but that's because a lot of dead folk tend to be traditional and set in their ways. It's more that the Realms are ruled by the strongest fighters. There's no right of succession when everyone's dead and eternal, so power and possessions get passed around through right of conquest."
"And Pandora?" Diana pressed. Danny smiled, seeing where her interest stemmed from.
"One of the most fearsome women in all the Realms. She's been the default leader of the Ancient Greek Sector since its beginning. I think her Acropolis and Labyrinth formed around her, rather than her settling there. Frostbite says she was already Ancient when he was young. She's a wonderful friend to have, but Ancients help you if you ever piss her off."
"It's rumored that Pandora was once an Amazonian, like me and my sisters, before she was given charge of her Box. That was long before even my mother's time, though," Diana shared.
"I'd believe it! She’s nice to those she likes, but she's pretty ferocious too. Ellie liked her." Danny went quiet again, sorrow painting his features.
"Ellie?" Diana inquired softly.
"She was my… family. My sister. My daughter." That last word came out quiet and choked. His face twisted in old anguish.
"What happened to her?" Diana burned, mourned, for this boy that had already faced so much. A daughter? How? And she was gone already? It just wasn't fair.
"She wanted to help me free ghosts from the GIW. She went in without telling me. She got out but they landed a few shots and," he had to clear his throat to stay audible. "She destabilized. I was too late." He turned to Diana suddenly, grief written clearly across his face. "I'm the only one like me left. Dead and Alive."
She didn’t have words. So she pulled Danny to a couch by the window, and held him. He curled up into a tight ball, head to his knees, and let her hold him. He was silent, like he always was when he cried.
I'm the only one left, he said. She cried for him, and for Ellie, too.
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Bruce sighed as leaned back in his chair at the Watchtower computer terminal. He was currently keeping an eye on Chthon and Wonder Woman on the observation deck via security cameras. He had overheard the entire conversation, and he, too, ached for the boy. But he had to stay careful, attentive.
It had been a wake up call when the temperature had dropped, when the lights flickered. Though Chthon didn't mean them harm, he was far from harmless. Bruce had been allowing himself to only see the overwhelmed child, but that same kid was also a being of dangerous power. Even more dangerous than Bruce could see with the naked eye, if Zatanna and Constantine could be believed.
They had approached him, wide eyed, after Diana and Tim had led the visibly distraught boy away. Zatanna told him that "Death Magic" rolled off of Chthon in waves even when he was calm and at rest, and that it had been absolutely suffocating when he had been threatening Constantine. She warned him, saying Realms Ghosts were not known for their reason or willingness to hold back. The boy currently in their care was dangerous, and already exhibiting more restraint than they thought his species was capable of. If he snapped, they were sure he was more than capable of making his threat to Constantine sound like a mercy.
But Bruce didn't know if he could take their warning at face value, despite Chthon's show of power. He was not any more aggressive than any human or meta his age. Hell, his own kids wouldn't have shown such restraint. Damian would've launched himself over the table, blades flying. Jason would probably have already committed several murders. Even Dick, if in Danny’s situation, probably would've had Constantine by the collar and feeling very, very sorry for himself. As it was, Tim had sent a mean, narrow-eyed look over his shoulder at the wizard as he led Danny out. Bruce had no doubt his third son was planning something embarrassing and incredibly inconvenient for the blonde magician.
The magicians' warnings echoed the Fentons' prejudiced views just enough for Batman to see a pattern. Either there was something to it, and the Realms Ghosts weren't to be trusted, or the misconceptions and distrust just ran that deep and wide between the realms. All he could do at this point was watch, collect what information he could, and hope.