Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Danny was thoroughly exhausted. Ever since he died, he could never seem to catch a break. At all. Even as a 20 year old civilian, life wanted to punch him in the face- repeatedly. Sure, he may have been stealing from labs at night (Wayne industries included) but they had tons of money for replacements! Look, ghost hunting without using his ghost powers was tough, especially when the entirety of the Fenton labs went up in flames. The only thing he had on him when he left was a blaster and a thermos, not enough for the jobs he was trying to accomplish. He really wasn’t a criminal! It was all for the greater good! He swears it! Heroes break the law to save people all the time, how is he any different? (They’re not fugitives with entire government branches after them).  

Still, he didn’t want to leave Gotham just because the Bats were getting closer on his tail. He was doing so well at not using his powers, even learned how to lock pick so he avoided walking through walls! Sam would 100% be proud of him and his hard work at fucking over large corporations and unethical research. 

Anyways, his little Bat problem is what led to his current situation, moving apartments into Crime alley, specifically Red Hood’s territory. When he first got to Gotham and accidentally hobbled inside he immediately ‘Noped’ right out of there. First off, the vibes were retched. Second, he knew a warning sign in aura if he ever saw one, and the border between uptown Gotham and this was blaring red lights and sirens screaming “ STAY OUT ”, and Danny knew how to listen to directions like that. Sadly, now he was left with no choice. 

Batman had been patrolling around where he lives a little too much recently. Normally, the clan would take turns patrolling certain areas at certain times for safety, but not recently. Danny knew they were catching onto him. His ghostliness messed with cameras when he let his aura loose, but it didn’t erase the fact that the footage existed. He knew they didn’t have a clear picture of him or his abilities, but they knew he existed and knew he was a phantom thief, and that was enough. Danny no longer questioned their titles as ‘best detectives in the world’. After all, they were giving him a run for his money.

Moving to Crime Alley was indeed the best option, though. Danny had analyzed the bats and their movements ever since he moved here a year ago at 19. He knew that after Red Hood had his whole war with them, they backed off of the area and the haunt finally settled as the vigilante’s territory. Now, a few years after that, the bats left the area alone except for special circumstances during major events. That meant that the safest option for the halfa right now, was to walk into the lion’s den and pray he wasn’t hungry. 

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Danny had worked his ass off ensuring no one would question whether or not he was a human. It was to the point that his ghost half was desperate for some reprieve. He had to eventually go ghost, but not yet. He hadn’t finished building the device he needed to test the levels of ectoplasm he or the city omits. He had gotten the idea for this new mission a few months ago, hence the start of the heists. He knew that after he had closed the portals, there were still ghosts of all levels in the human world. They had no way of returning or going to the ghost zone now, so Danny set off to personally help all of them do so. 

His current works in progresses were the ecto-signature locator, the ecto-level reader, and an improved thermos that didn’t feel so unpleasant to ghosts. He didn’t know when another portal would be up and running, including the one he was inevitably going to make. He had tried using the natural portals, but they weren’t stable enough for him to use. It was honestly such a headache. Natural portals had a variable of locations and time lapses. He didn’t know if the portal would close right behind him if he went in, and that meant that he could never use them but ghosts not tethered to the human world could. The problem there is that most ghosts outside of Amity Park hadn’t ever been to the infinite realms, so that meant they all were tethered to the human world. Once Danny was properly equipped he had to start going around and severing these relationships before the GIW could catch wind of these ghosts existing. 

It was a severe pain in his ghostly behind that’s for sure, but what can ya do? You know? Danny had finished packing up all of his normal stuff, the only thing was to carefully wrap and cover his stolen goods in clothing and such. By the next day he had completely finished. The halfa had to move during the morning and very secretively. Night was off limits, they’d suspect him right away. Unless he used his powers to fly back and forth invisibly, but that could be a bit troublesome. The GIW had a base just outside of Gotham, how that slipped past the Bat’s eyes was honestly commendable. They hadn’t come into the city for fear of the vigilantes residing in it (they gained some brain after all), but that’d change the second they felt Phantom. 

Danny sighed as he moved all of his boxes to the bottom floor. Currently his entire building is empty. The apartment complex was next to a few businesses so most of the people residing inside worked there. That meant that Danny had the whole place to himself during their work hours. Moving the boxes into his car without anyone seeing was a bit difficult. He had stacked the boxes as high as he could and held them in one hand, making them invisible, then placed a small bag in the crook of his elbow. To everyone else he was just holding a handbag weirdly. Doing it like this and holding in his aura as much as possible wouldn’t tick off the Bats. It was still time consuming though. Luckily the amount of cameras downtown was less than where he currently was. The place he chose to live in had very few, meaning he could move in without any use of his powers. 

By the time he was settled in, he had given himself a high five at another quest completed.

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Maybe he shouldn’t have started thieving this soon- 

Currently, he was being chased to hell high waters by Red Hood and his two guns (Danny assumed were) affectionately named. To be fair, he didn’t even get to actually steal anything, so technically he wasn’t breaking the law. Sure, he broke into a VladCo. Lab and went rummaging through the computers using tuckers parting gift to him- but that didn’t make him a criminal . Honestly, he was offended, didn’t even get to trash the place as a ‘fuck you’ to Vlad. The man deserved it after the shit he pulled ever since Danny turned 14. The man had disappeared like his parents, and while it was concerning, Danny couldn’t help but be glad he was gone. 

“Stop!”

A robotic voice called after him from a few feet behind. How Red Hood was so large and still this fast was beyond him. Nevermind the fact that he felt dead, but not. He wasn’t necessarily a halfa, but he did have that ‘totally died and didn’t revive right’ vibes to him that just gave him a chill. 

Danny didn’t answer him, just continued running for his life and jumping between buildings. Maybe he did use his powers a bit to make landings easier and make up for his obvious lack of experience or skill, no one could call him out on it. 

He had just wanted information on where the man had gone. While he was thankful for the somewhat peace, Vlad disappearing always meant bad news. Worse if he was in danger and caught by the GIW. There were reports of Vlad being seen at some of the Wayne Galas, but that was half a year ago, no word since. He’d hate to say it, but he was worried. Sure, he hated the man’s guts- he was a total fruitloop and only got worse over time, but he was the first halfa, and whether Danny admitted it or not he learned a lot from him. Sue him for being a little concerned, if not for Plasmius, then for himself. The GIW having any ghost was bad news for him. Live research only spelled bad news. 

The lab was practically no help. The only thing the computers contained were some schematics for his equipment in the basement, but none of it was the real dangerous stuff like the portal or even cloning pods. Danny was still happy he got the chance to destroy the lab and all the tech in it, he loved Dani, but he didn’t think he could handle another clone dying or destabilizing. Dani was in the Ghost Zone, exploring and mapping out all of its locations. He didn’t know what he’d do if she got caught in the crossfires of this war. 

Danny jumped from one roof to another, he had to keep to buildings close to each other. Unlike Red Hood, he didn’t have a grappling hook to bring him across streets. He didn’t want to alert Batman of his not-totally-human status. Best case scenario he thought he was a meta who could fly and would do his whole ‘no metas in Gotham’ spiel. Worst case scenario he figured out Danny was a powerful ghost who happened to be a fugitive from the government and would turn him in. From then on Danny didn’t know what they’d do to him, but he’d never tell them how to build the portal. That information died with him and him alone. 

By the time he heard bullets going past him and a rubber one hitting him square in the shoulder, he knew he had to get gone. Danny had already ran past his new home, any farther and he’d have to use his powers way longer than normal. Slowly the two had gone up in height between buildings, by now if he fell off the side he’d get at least severely injured, but that height was nothing to his flight. Danny waited another minute before speeding up and widening the distance between them before ‘slipping’ and falling down the side of the building rather ungracefully. 

By the time Red Hood caught up, Danny was gone. 

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Danny hissed in pain as he held ice against his ribs. After ‘falling’ from the roof he had twisted his body and caught on to one of the emergency escape railings, but his torso hit against it quite painfully. He had quickly pulled himself up before swinging a little and propelling himself forward against the brick. The walls didn’t have much give to them, hard to hold onto, but Danny abused his super strength and gravity control and moved to the other side of the building as fast as he could. 

Now, in the safety of his home, he was feeling all the sore spots from his little endeavor. If he was a ghost, he wouldn’t even break a sweat, let alone bruise, but alas he was as human as he could be after death. This whole instance just told the halfa that he needed to speed up plans. He didn’t know how much longer he could parade around using as little of his powers as possible. Invisibility had to be in use whenever he used any of his other abilities that could be seen, like flight or intangibility. Luckily, he could get away with the strength, agility, and endurance, but it was risky with the bats down his neck. 

Maybe Danny could ghost proof his apartment from himself. After Danny makes the ecto-signature reader, he could try to make his apartment block out signals. Meaning if Danny went ghost, no one but him would know. Yeah, that was a thought for another day. Right now he just wanted to sleep and get to work tomorrow morning, college didn’t pay for itself. 

Chapter Text

Danny was going to cry. Why was his half life like this? He can’t even get a cup of coffee without his bad luck trying to ruin it for him. First off, who the hell in Gotham robs a coffee shop in the morning? Second, why did the guy gotta do it today? The one day Danny decides to try the coffee shop closest to Gotham University in comparison to the one close to his old apartment. 

The halfa was annoyed beyond relief. Just a few days ago Hood had almost got him, even shot him! He just wanted to live and protect the ghosts from the humans, a switch from when he first started out (he knew who the real monsters were now), he knows. If he could live in literally any other city safely, he would, but Gotham was second in ectoplasmic energy, and he kind of needed that to live, so- 

“Everyone! Put your valuables in the bag!”

Right, he forgot he was getting robbed right now. Danny discreetly shoved his phone and wallet into his thigh, before taking off a bracelet he had on. The jewelry cost him like 2 bucks but it looked worth something to someone otherwise. Maybe if he just went along with it and they got what they wanted, then he could move on with his merry day and get to class on time. Physics waited for no one.

“Really? A bracelet? No cash? A phone?”

“My phone broke last week and I just used all the cash I had for the coffee, had a coupon and everything.”

Not the best lie, but it’d work. 

“You can check my pockets if you’d like?”

He was supposed to sound scared right? The guy was waving a gun in his face, but normal bullets never did as much damage to him as the ecto-guns of his parents so he didn’t really worry. 

“Get up!”

And he was up, hands above his head and everything. The guy in all black proceeded to pat him down along his pockets while pointing a gun at him otherwise. 

“How do you not have a wallet on you?”

“I’m a college student, I can barely afford tuition.”

That’s a lie, he was on a full ride scholarship, but they didn’t need to know that. 

“Oh you too?”

Did this bitch just say ‘you too’ ? No way.

“‘You too?’ Are you doing this to pay for college???”

Ancients, the school system sucked if he had to resort to crime for this.

“Yeah- you wouldn’t believe how expensive my major is, the textbooks alone cost more than my rent!”

“Holy shit, no kidding. Yeah, why are textbooks so expensive? Why am I paying hundreds of dollars for something that could have been a 2 dollar pdf?”

“Right! I tried asking my professor instead, but he said he’d fail me if I didn’t have the right materials! It’s driving me nuts. Like how am I supposed to pay for all this?”

How he started making conversation with his own robber, he didn’t know, but he was happy to finally complain with someone. Danny hadn’t exactly made friends since he got here.

“Personally I buy used books, and the more trashed they are, the cheaper. Then, you can just use the pdf version but still have the textbook in class. It’s honestly so much cheaper too. Or you can see if you can borrow it from the library and just bring it in for the classes he checks it, then return it after to avoid the fees. That option is a bit more troublesome though.”

“Oh shit, no way! That’s awesome, I never thought of that, thanks man! Man, I wish I talked to you sooner.” 

“Yeah, it’s all good, maybe just avoid the crime after this? There’s tons of online jobs you can do during class and stuff. I don’t know, there’s always another option than crime. You sound like a good guy, just desperate.”

The robber turned friend (?) lowered his gun and sighed before returning the items in the bag to everyone. He then apologized to the cashier and then to everyone else before giving Danny a hug (how long had it been since he’d gotten one of those?) and leaving. Danny was so proud of him he almost cried (again). 

He still wanted his coffee though. 

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Meanwhile, Tim sat there in the corner wondering what just happened in front of him. 

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Danny was back at it again with his theft. Currently he was by the docks. Apparently, before Vlad had gone missing he sent a shipment to the Gotham labs, but he disappeared before it could get transferred. Danny was desperate to know what Plasmius was sending over, it’d give a huge hint to what he was doing in Gotham in the first place. 

For some reason, however, the docs were heavily guarded today. The outskirts of Gotham had way less ectoplasmic energy in comparison to the heart of the city, so he had to be a lot more careful. That meant that he couldn’t let his aura loose too much. At best the cameras would be a little fuzzy, not fully distorted as usual. This meant Danny had to put as much skill as possible into this sort-of raid. While powers that kept to his being (invisibility, flight, strength) didn’t up his ectoplasmic levels too much, extended use so close to a base was dangerous. Meaning they were a last ditch option, only used together to escape should things go south.

And did things go south indeed. 

Turns out the multiple armed guards were here because a famous rogue in Gotham called Penguin was striking a deal with a gang from a neighboring city, Bludhaven. Just Danny’s luck. Really, he should get it checked out with a specialist or something, the amount of times things like this have happened to him is way more than normal. Sam used to joke that he used up all of his good fortune coming back from the dead, and this is just his karma, he believed her the more the days passed. 

Anyways, the boxes he needed were hidden somewhere in one of the warehouses here. The problem was that he can’t really get to them without someone seeing him. Which meant this raid was a bust before it even started. Plus, he had a feeling the bats were here, and after his run-in with Red Hood he wasn’t too keen on making a second appearance. But then again- when would he get a chance like this again? Surely the bats will be distracted, there’s enough men here to keep at least five of them occupied. The bat clan had 8 members in it, and one of them was a day time hero, so he wouldn’t be here, and another was stationed in Bludhaven. However, he knew it was highly likely that Nightwing would be here considering the fact that the gang making the other end of this deal was from the sister city. 

Overall, if Danny played his cards right, used his limited power availability smartly, kept to the shadows, and avoided everybody in the area, maybe he could pull this off. It’d be a little bit more difficult to pull off than his other heists, however. Usually his aura lets him feel the presence of specific people around him, especially the bats since they all have a special kind of feel, most having been touched by death in some way- Red Hood especially. Now, though, with his aura spread thin out of fear of the GIW, he couldn’t tell when one was near, meaning he couldn’t tell when he’d be attacked or caught. You know what, Danny always told himself he needed to live a little, what’s the worst that can happen? He dies again? Been there, done that, not worth the hype.

With that final mental push, Danny crept forward, sticking to the walls and using his strength to help him climb the outer walls. He entered through one of the higher windows and used a little flight to make his drop in completely silent. Step 1 completed, step 2 underway. He had never been so thankful to have night vision before in his life. It’d be impossible to dodge all the furniture and boxes laid about without turning on a light if he didn’t have the ability, and that’d for sure give him away. 

He opened every crate in the room before leaving and moving down to the end of the hall. He’d start from the end and work his way down to the stairs. The crates never had the same theme. Some held weapons, others drugs, some even had pottery, and one had artifacts. Danny made a mental note to check that last one again, just in case any of them were death related. It was his job to take care of them of course. While he wasn’t crowned king just yet, he practically already had the role before he shut down all the portals, making the realm his domain and responsibility, but that was for another time. 

Each room on the second floor was a complete bust. None of them had the tech Danny was so used to, none of them even gave him that feeling. Years of being surrounded by tech meant to kill him gave him that sense for it, and so far nothing was hardly ghost related. The warehouse was two floors, so he prayed that what he was looking for was on the main level. 

He picked up sounds of fighting outside. The bats had made their move, and soon enough he’d be caught in the crossfire. If he was in his ghost form, he could probably hear a lot better, but alas, he had to stick to muffled screams and gunshots. All this meant though was that he had to hurry up and find something soon. 

Most of downstairs was a bust. He had sped up his process, being quick and less thorough, even leaving the crates open. He hoped the bats wouldn’t notice his meddling, but he knew that was too much to ask for. Those vigilantes snuffed out every change, no matter how miniscule. 

By the time he reached the last section of the main floor, he was in the back corner, far from the entrance and exit. The fight outside was quieting down, which meant he was practically out of time. He needed to get gone before they were done outside. Luckily, it seemed these boxes had a Vlad. Co. logo burned into the wood. He found what he needed. He practically ripped open the cover, finding a metal case surrounded by packing peanuts and mini black boxes. He didn’t know what this was, but he took a couple of the small boxes and shoved them around into his legs or stomach. He then held the case, too big to fit in his frame, and closed the crates to how they were prior to his meddling before making a run for it. 

His anxiety was on the high, he knew that it was far quieter outside than he’d like for a fair get away. The lack of cameras in the area was a blessing in disguise to him, as he was far too careless in his escape. If anyone had been watching him leave through the upstairs window, they’d notice the way gravity didn’t quite take a hold on him as he tumbled to the ground. He hadn’t been seen though, not yet. 

Of course that streak had to be broken. Merely minutes after he had leapt from the window and made his way further in the city he got the feeling of something not-quite dead on his tail. A quick turn around let him know that Red Hood was running after him. Danny must have missed him as he jumped between buildings. He had lost track of the fight once he’d gotten further away from the docs, but clearly that was a mistake. He knew the vigilante couldn’t have seen him at the warehouse, but somewhere between a little after his landing and now.

It didn’t bode well for him. The briefcase in his hand was large and well noticeable, it was impossible for it to miss the vigilante’s eyes. While the other was still pretty far away, Danny could only sense him because of how strong his connection to death was. If any other members of the bat clan were also here, he wouldn’t feel them until they were a few meters away. This was bad. 

Danny wasn’t used to something so large and clunky on his person, at most he’d have a thermos or a small weapon, so this case was knocking into just about everything. The halfa’s usual style of parkour included bending and twisting his body out of the way, but with the extra space on him he had to adapt. Sadly, he wasn’t adapting quick enough. Hood was catching up to him, making his next few actions frantic. 

Danny knew he had made a mistake when the rooftop he landed on was basically isolated from all other buildings apart from the one he came from. This meant he had reached a dead end unless he let Red Hood know he was a meta- adjacent. Though Danny would argue that being dead is a medical condition, and not a genetic advantage.

He stood with his back towards the drop. The building was pretty high up, but luckily they’d made it pretty deep into Crime Alley, meaning he could get away with a little bit of power. Sadly, he didn’t think he’d be getting away from this looking completely human. 

Just then, a robotic voice rang out, 

“You’ve got nowhere to run, so how about you tell me what’s in that case.”

Danny was freaking out. He didn’t have a voice changer on him at all, and he knew that he'd eventually meet red hood out of costume (just his luck). Is there a way to alter his voice as is? Maybe he could mix in some ghost speak in order to make it sound distorted instead of natural. Maybe they’d believe he has a voice changer instead. 

“H̷̪̩̒o̵̟̐w̸̞̲̓ ̸̪͇̑ả̷͈b̶̥̕o̵̯̎̐ͅũ̷̬͠ͅt̷̨̑ ̷̢̉n̷̜̑͑ỏ̴̡̒.̵̞͆̌ “ (How about no)

“You don’t really have many options here, so why don’t you just hand me the case and surrender.”

“Y̸̰̕e̸̱͝ȃ̴̡ḩ̶̏,̷̻̆ ̴̻̐h̵̗̏a̸̗͒r̶͎̋d̵̰͌ ̸̻͘p̷̟̂a̷̟͂ș̶͊ś̸̯ ̴̨̓o̷̜̐ṅ̸̬ ̴̳̈t̵̗͋h̷̞͝a̷͈͝ť̷̠,̵̦͑ ̶̟̕b̴͍̚ư̸͎t̷͕̑ ̸̧́n̸̮͆ỉ̴̮c̵̳͌e̷̩͗ ̸̱̀t̶͍̏r̴͆͜ỵ̵̅.̵̙̀ ̶̖̀M̸͙̋ȧ̴͜y̶̮̚b̵̟͒e̸̻͝ ̸͖͌i̵̧͐t̴͇̊’̸̣͊l̷͔̀l̴̫͌ ̶͘͜w̴̫̄o̶̳̍r̶̹̀ǩ̶̭ ̶̺͆t̸̮͊ḧ̴̟́e̴̞̋ ̷̡̾n̷̰͝ĕ̴̡x̴̺̏t̴͇̓ ̷͓́ẗ̵̗́i̵̾ͅm̵͚̈e̵̡̋ ̵̦͛w̶̗͐ē̴̹ ̴͖̊m̸͚̎ẹ̵̐ê̴͎t̴͍̉ “ (Yeah, hard pass on that, but nice try. Maybe it’ll work the next time we meet.)

“As if there’ll be a next time, maybe when you’re behind bars.”

Oh no, Danny was beginning to like the Red Hood. None of his rogues ever bantered back, only screamed about wanting his pelt on their walls. Totally not fun, do not recommend. 

“A̴͓͝w̵̋ͅ,̷̨̽ ̷͕̊ỹ̵͔o̴̹͑u̴͚͋’̸͚̾d̶͓̏ ̸̡͐v̸̗̅i̷̪̚s̴̥͆ī̵̫t̷͚̏ ̶͚͋m̶̫̅e̴̥͊ ̴̤̐ȋ̷̺n̶̲̿ ̵̳͠ṕ̶̨r̶̲͋i̷͕͐s̸̘̑o̵̯̓ṅ̴̢?̵̘̎ “ (Aw, you’d visit me in prison?)

Red Hood did not have the same feelings as Danny, if the bullet to the shoulder wasn’t a hint enough. What was with the vigilante and shooting him in the shoulder? Ouch. 

Red Hood ran towards him before Danny could really escape. This was getting dangerous. He didn’t know whether or not the other would have a reaction from touching him. He knew Red Hood had died, it was obvious, but was he aware of the whole truth? Was he like Danny? He wasn’t a halfa, that’s for sure, he didn’t feel like Vlad, but he felt awfully close to it. If he managed to touch him, would he be able to sense him from now on, like Danny could to him? Or would he not react, and the halfa would be left with this skill alone. Either way Danny didn’t want to test that theory. 

Red hood aimed for his head, swinging his right hand. Danny freaked and ducked, avoiding the other all together. The fight continued like this. Danny remained on the defensive, trying not to touch the other at all. They were going in circles. The halfa backing away and the vigilante closing in, over and over the cycle didn’t stop- until eventually Hood managed to kick him across the chest. Ow, first off, his bruises from last time had just healed, but that’s not what he focused on. No, what he was distracted with was the pure feeling of wrongness from Red Hood.

Danny skid back a couple of feet from the pure force.  He was near the edge of the roof now. Red Hood, taking advantage of his hesitance, sweeped his legs, making him fall back and nearly off the building, had he not caught himself at the last minute with his free hand on the ledge. Red Hood was nearing, Danny felt it, so he made the decision any good halfa would in this situation. He let go.

And just like last time, when Red Hood reached the edge, Danny was nowhere to be found. 

Chapter Text

Getting home took far more effort than he'd ever admit. His entire body was just aching by the end of the night and he knew come morning it'd be worse. Was it his fault this happened? Yes, yes it was. Was he still going to complain out loud to whatever being will listen? Also yes. His vigilante days are over, why is he still getting injured? The most dangerous guy in the city was a man dressed as a bat, that's got to be a sign or something. 

Danny groaned as he collapsed on his mattress. Mattress not bed, he hadn't gotten his frame set up again. He pulled off his ghost face mask and threw it across the room, even going so far as to phase out of his shoes. He was dead tired (haha) and no one was going to catch him tonight, so he might as well just sleep like this and hide everything in the walls later. 

Was it a good idea? No. Was he still going to do it? Yes. The consequences of his own actions could shove itself into next week for all he cared, right now he just wanted to sleep the bruises off. 

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Jason was so pissed off. First, Dick gets shot during the raid, next the demon brat kept yelling at him, and then he finds the thief from last time and he gets away again. This time he was close too, only for the piece of shit to disappear the same way as last time. It was getting frustrating, especially with the amount of nagging he got from the others over letting ghost face get away. They couldn’t even say anything though, they hadn’t even seen the guy in person, let alone manage to hit him. 

This criminal was becoming annoying very quickly. Jason couldn’t remember the last rogue that took this long to catch or even meet. It’s been six months since he’s been on their radar, they don’t know whether or not he’s been active since before then. The whole situation was infuriating, and Jason knew it was eating Bruce up. Ghost face wasn’t stealing gold or jewels or even artifacts, he was stealing tech, equipment, and even raw pieces. That meant he was building something, what? They didn’t know, and that was what made this so scary. 

He had reported everything to the rest of the bats. Ghost face was an interesting character for sure. Modulated voice, tall and lean but wearing full coverage baggy clothes that made his figure non distinguishable. He (they’re assuming he’s a he) was fairly tall, but he was wearing gloves and shoes that added to his height- making him around 6 foot? Plus or minus 2 inches. At least he wasn’t boring, going so far as making banter with Red Hood. People like him, skills and motive, didn’t really talk, remaining completely silent. Although, Catwoman existed, so he couldn’t really hold a stereotype. 

And that brings a whole new problem to Jason’s mind. What was in that case? While fighting he noticed a certain logo on it, though because of the movement it wasn’t too clear. He had sketched out its general shape for Bruce, it being a circle with a V on top. He wasn’t too sure what the inscriptions in the circle were, but there were tons of engravings. The second he had finished his report and updated it directly to the bat computer he high tailed out of there. Any more time with Batman after that frankly embarrassing encounter would have sent him in a rage, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. 

Jason sighed as he practically collapsed on his couch, affectionately named flora. The piece of furniture had seen better days, now riddled with tears and blood stains, he thinks there's a bullet somewhere lodged in its frame too. Still, he didn’t want a new one. This one was the first thing he bought for his apartment when he returned to Gotham, it's been with him through thick and thin. Getting rid of it now was practical betrayal, worse than in his books. 

He knew this wasn’t the last meeting he’d have with Ghost face. He hoped the next time they’d meet he’d get answers- real ones. 

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The next time they meet it’s at a dumpster a week later. Not the best place, he knows, but Danny was in need of scrap metal and what better place than dumpsters and trash piles. He was even going to go to a landfill in the morning under the pretext of one of his college projects if anyone asked, but now his plan was ruined. How Red Hood found him so fast was unknown, he hadn’t even let out his aura to disrupt the cameras. It took about two seconds of them just staring at each other before Red Hood came in swinging. 

Danny was really starting to worry about the guy, this amount of corruption could not be healthy. He’d heard stories about stuff like this from Frostbite and knew the symptoms were downright terrifying. He didn’t know what he’d do if he lost control like that. Things like irrationality, recklessness, fits of rage, nightmares, phantom pains, heightened negative emotions, and in some cases a final death. Hey, maybe that explained the whole 8 severed heads in a duffle bag thing that Hood did when he first got here. Yeah, that probably explained it. 

He knew that the corruption was down to one's core, and it was always there, fighting against the person. Though, that did mean that Hood had amazing self control. If what he’s heard about the ghosts who’ve been corrupted before was true, the second Red Hood saw him again he’d be out for blood, not answers.

“What was in that case?!”

Danny did not miss that robotic voice at all. Once again he was at the defensive, dropping the backpack he was using to collect materials earlier. What if he got distracted and hit too hard and killed Red Hood. Sure, the guy was always after his ghostly behind but he wasn’t GIW level bad, he didn’t want him dead . Well Danny didn’t want Red Hood dead, he only thought the feeling was mutual.

“I̶͙̍f̵̰͝ ̵̨̕ỵ̵̕o̸̞͆ú̴͎ ̸͓́f̶̠͛ỉ̴̠n̶͓̿d̷̹̈́ ̵̭̇ő̷͍ū̵̧t̶͇̅,̵͉̽ ̶͉͋l̸͇͋ȇ̶̯t̸̫̿ ̸̛̮m̸̢̓e̸̮͋ ̴̥͊k̷̡̂ṅ̸̬o̵̤̅w̷̨̎!̴̢̊” (If you find out, let me know!)

“You don’t know what’s in it?”

He aimed a round kick to Danny’s head, Danny dropped to the ground and sweeped his legs. 

“D̸̜̊o̶̽͜ ̵̟͗Ḯ̷̧ ̶͖̕h̵̨̆ä̶͎́v̶̭͝e̷͔̚ ̴̗͌t̵̊ͅo̴̭̽?̴̫͘” (Do I have to?)

“If you steal it, yes. Do you not have a motive?”

Danny took a step back and ducked as Red Hood swung over his head. Jeez, this guy was not playing around. 

“Í̶̬ ̵̹̉ẃ̸͜o̸̝͛ṋ̷͊d̶͕̎e̴͙͒r̷͔̿” (I wonder.)

The crime lord couldn’t see it, but Danny was smirking, even having fun. Ancients, he missed fighting. He went from multiple attacks a day to none. He’s been itching to get his hands dirty for months, especially after starting this new gig. 

“Don’t bullshit me. I want answers, Ghost Face.”

“G̷͉̏h̷̯͗o̸̪̾s̶̉͜t̸͕̉ ̶̥͝f̴̯̒ả̵̺ć̵͈e̶͕̔?̵̾͜ ̵̯͝A̵̩͌w̸̡̌ ̵̱̒y̶͖͆o̷̻̊u̵͓̽ ̸͔̒g̶̹̓a̵̹̕v̴̯͘e̴͙̕ ̴̦̋m̴̑ͅẽ̷͇ ̷̫̈́a̷̟̍ ̸̞̀n̸̮̍a̷̝͑m̶̬͋ẻ̶͙?̵͖̕ ̷̫̆U̶͎͆n̷͉̒o̷͓̕r̷̥̚i̷̜͋g̵̦̉i̸̘͒ñ̷̝ả̸̟l̸̼̑ ̷̮̉t̴̰͐h̴̗́o̶̬̒u̶̪͝g̴̪̑ĥ̸͜ ̵̧̽s̷̤͐i̶͉͒n̷̬̾c̵̜̕ḛ̸͘ ̴͍̅y̸̫̾ọ̶̆u̸̟͆ ̵̟̓g̸̩̿o̵̧͆t̷͉͛ ̴̭̒ȋ̷̩ẗ̴͖ ̸̙̅f̵̈͜ȑ̷̥ǫ̵͘m̸͇̃ ̸̻͘ṭ̸̏ẖ̸̒ë̴͕́ ̶̗͂m̶̻̏a̷͍̎ś̸̤k̶͕̉.̶̘̚” (Ghost face? Aw you gave me a name? Unoriginal though since you got it from the mask.)

“The others have been calling you Phantom Thief, but that seemed too special for someone like you. Now tell me what’s your angle, what are you after?”

Red Hood punched him across the face, it hurt, but Danny’s had way worse. Danny stepped back and used as little strength as possible kicking the other against the chest like he had to him before. The vigilante managed to block with his forearms, but still stumbled back a bit. 

“T̵̡̈́ȍ̵̞o̴̗̒ ̴̛̘s̶̫̐p̵̢͌ȅ̷̞c̸͖͗i̷̖̅a̶̬͊l̵͎̍?̵͔͘ ̵̘͗P̵̺̂h̸̲̒a̵̻̚n̸͇̿ṱ̷͒ȏ̶̹m̴͔͑ ̶͉͝t̵͔̓h̸͉̋i̶̻̽è̶̼f̴͉̌ ̵̬̊ị̶̈s̷͖̉ ̷͓̃p̶̰̕ě̵̙r̴͎͗f̵̜̒e̸̡̚c̴̡̎t̵̯̐,̵̬̋ ̶͍̉a̵̯̔n̴͕̋d̸̥̆ ̴̜̈́I̴̛̲ ̶̺̂a̶̼̔m̶̱͘ ̷̞͘p̸̝͂l̴̗̈ẹ̵͝n̵̜̏t̸̙͐y̵̥̔ ̷̰̔s̴̬̀p̴͉̑e̴̐ͅċ̴̳i̸̛̙a̸̡͌l̶͎̾ ̶͈̐e̵̦̎n̷̪̒o̴̝͂u̴̱̾g̷̲͗ḧ̸̺.̶̠́” (Too special? Phantom thief is perfect, and I am plenty special enough.)

Danny blocked a kick to his side with his right arm before grabbing Hood and kneeing him in the stomach. He had to give the man credit, he didn’t even waiver. Maybe Danny could use a bit more strength. 

“Enough games, ghost.”

Oh wow, that was bringing back memories for sure. Though, the term coming from Red Hood’s mouth didn’t feel as derogatory as when it came from his parents’. 

“M̸̩͘ë̷͈́?̸̡͑ ̶͔̄T̴̜̔ḫ̷͛ḛ̵̃ ̵̲͘g̶̮͋h̷̼͒ó̶͉s̷̲̚t̵͖̓?̵̣̚ ̸̘̊Y̴̡͌ơ̵̱u̴̗̐'̴͜͝r̴̭̆e̵͉̓ ̸̤̃t̵͎̾ĥ̷̰e̶͉͌ ̴͍͛o̴̗̅n̸͝ͅẻ̸͜ ̴̮̋w̴̪͋h̴̡̆o̴̬̕'̷̜̈́s̷̫̈ d̵̼̤́̎̎i̴̧̛̟̙̥̖̜͑e̷̢͕͕͊̈́̌͛̅̚d̸̜̼̠̯̞̗̿̊̒̎.̴͉̱̳̬͍̌̅͛͛ ̵͕̈̆̅ ̶͍̓ “ (Me? The ghost? You're the one who's died. )

And just like that, the corruption in the air became dense, a heavy weight to his supernatural senses. His mind was screaming at him to retreat, danger, but he couldn’t escape. Red Hood had switched, the aura around him becoming sharp and volatile. Danny was brought to the ground in seconds, pinned against the dirt floor. Red Hood was on top of him, his thighs holding him in place on each side. Danny’s left hand was pinned down by the other’s knee, his right held in place by the vigilante’s hand. A gun was pointed to his head, and he had the feeling this one was loaded with real bullets. 

“ How did you know? Who told you? ”

Oh Danny had to be careful here. It’s a common rumor that Red Hood was the second robin, but no one believed he’d actually risen from the dead, and no one had ever dreamed of saying anything about it to him before. Danny was so used to ghosts and their acceptance of the fact that they were dead (were not how) that he forgot humans could be touchy about it. Ancients know he was still touchy about it. 

Red Hood tightened his hold against the other, Danny’s wrist was starting to ache from the pressure around it. He didn’t know how exactly he was going to get out of this situation. Red Hood had a right to know about the GIW, after all, he was one of their potential targets, but then again it’d put Danny in so much danger. The vigilante had a support system, he had a backing, Danny didn’t. If the GIW got to him, he didn’t have anyone in his corner to save him. Red Hood would be fine, but Danny wouldn’t.

“ Answer me. ”

The gun pointed at his head knocked against his skull, pushing into the thin layer of skin there. 

“Į̷̂̇͜ ̸̬͈̓h̷̤̾̇a̵̧͓͠v̴̤̠͠e̷̙̅ ̸̗̥̒e̸͖̠̒͝x̶̯̒͝p̵̪̂ë̸̯́͝r̵̾̈́͜i̷̟͉̽̓e̴̪̜̒n̷͑́͜c̵̦̿ḙ̶̾̌ ̶̬̍w̵͗͒ͅi̸͍̎ț̴́͒h̸͕̳̓ ̵͍͕̐̐t̴̛̳̞͝h̴̡̘͠o̵̩̔s̴̭̫̓ė̵̮̱̇ ̴̱͎́t̷̳̀̓o̷͍͂̀u̶̟̣̍c̸͖̿͜ȟ̵̺e̷̼͍͒d̴͍̃ ̸̳̒̍b̴̛͇ÿ̵̜ ̸̘͗d̸̉͜é̵̺a̸̻̒̕t̵̞̂h̷͒̐͜ͅ ̴̯̀b̴̒̕͜e̴̼͑f̶̩̅͗ò̸͕͈̃r̷͚̥̕ë̶̖͌.̶̣̈̕” (I have experience with those touched by death before)

Danny flashed his eyes such a vibrant green it shone through the mesh in his mask. Red Hood flinched, loosening his hold on Danny. Danny quickly released his hands before gripping the man’s shoulders and flipping their positions. Red Hood landed on the ground with a thump, the halfa grabbing his bag and making a run for it, leaving the other on the ground with the corruption seeping over. 

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.

.

Okay maybe Danny felt a little bad. He’s only been in crime Alley for a month and a half and he’s already pissed off Red Hood so much he had an episode. To be fair, Danny hadn’t been in contact with another human-who’s-died in years. Dani was in the Ghost Zone, hopefully with Frostbite to help in case of destabilization. Vlad was quiet after his parents went missing, searching for Maddie instead of harassing Danny, and then 7 months ago he dropped off the map. So excuse Danny if he was a little out of touch with communication and social situations. Though, his meeting with Hood wasn’t exactly normal by any of society’s standards.  

Danny had mainly stayed inside since his meeting a few days ago. Hood hasn’t been seen anywhere for the last two days, completely holed up wherever he is. Danny wouldn’t be too worried if it wasn’t for the fact that he could feel the air in the haunt become dense and violent. Normal people probably wouldn’t chalk it up to anything, maybe a bad feeling, like anxiety or a bad omen, but Danny wasn’t normal. He could tell what was going on with Hood just from the state of his haunt. 

Crime alley was filled with the darkest parts of Gotham. It was known for being the worst of the worst in the city with the most crime in the country. Danny understood that you couldn’t take control of such an area without being one of the rogues here themselves. Fighting fire with fire, being a lesser evil. Red Hood was a crime lord more than a vigilante, although now he’s teetering along the edge of both worlds. Danny could respect it, even if he wasn’t one for murder, but he couldn’t really say anything to it, all of his rogues were already dead. 

To control a place with such strong death energy, you had to be a little ghostly. That’s just how it worked. Danny’s haunt was filled with ectoplasm in the air, although his was pure, a human couldn’t control it the way he could if they were as lively as he was at 13. Hood’s haunt was corrupted, their ecto levels were from high death rates, abnormally high death rates. The vigilante was so in touch with the area that everything he went through was reflected in the haunt. Danny now knew why he couldn’t find any spirits, shades, or ghosts here. The area was a rough patch and practically suicide for any low level ghost. Danny would be fine, but eventually the corruption would get to him, make him sick. He already felt his energy being pulled out and it hasn’t even been 2 months yet. 

If even Danny was feeling the effects of Hood's corruption, what was the man himself going through? How had he come back to elicit this much damage? To the core of his soul, to the core of his haunt, his being. If Danny didn’t find a way to cure him soon, the state of the area would continue to erode. 

Sooner or later one of them would be eaten whole in its wake, their death reaching a finality never before.

Chapter Text

Jason groaned as he woke up. He was uncomfortable and his whole body ached. Two days had passed since his run in with Phantom Thief and he was still feeling that take down. He slowly got up from where he layed, which happened to be the wood floors of his apartment. That explained the back pain. The last two days were a blur. One minute he was holding a gun to Ghost Face’s head, then next thing he knew he was back at his apartment with his helmet in his hands and his vision going green. 

He hobbled over to his bedroom and changed out of his gear, taking a shower and cleaning himself up before going back to the living room. There were broken plates on the floor, books scattered in a corner, and the couch had a brand new tear in it. He sighed as he started to clean up. The shattered glass was swept up and put in the trash, the books were rearranged in their rightful place, and the couch was sewn back up for the millionth time since he got it. 

Luckily, it seemed like he didn’t kill anybody or do anything too bad, judging from the lack of spam calls or texts on his phone from Batman. There were a few messages from Dick and surprisingly Tim. Dick basically just asking if he was okay and that he didn’t check in after. Tim’s message was more interesting, though. 

Replacement: 

You good? Your comms kept on breaking out at random times, whoever you were talking to couldn’t be heard from our end, just static- It was seriously distorted

Replacement: 

Text back when you’re okay and we can figure it out. I didn’t tell Bruce yet. Waiting for your confirmation. 

Moments like this make him regret his attempted murder on Tim way more than usual. He’d never tell him that though. He quickly messaged him back. Seems like Tim made the decision for him. Bruce would be left in the dark. 

Zombiewithagun:

I’m fine. Do you think you can come over to talk in private?

He didn’t have to wait long for a reply. What did he expect from Tim? Kid was chronically online. 

Replacement:

Yeah. When do you want me over? I can come right now

Zombiewithagun:

Don’t you have school? Aren’t you in school right now?

Replacement:

Technically Timothy Drake Wayne is in school

Zombiewithagun:

No way. You hacked the school system again? Bruce will find out you know

Replacement:

Not if you keep your mouth shut. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him

Zombiewithagun:

It’s Bruce. If he doesn’t know everything he’ll explode

Replacement:

Do you want my help or not Jason?

Zombiewithagun:

I never asked for your help

Replacement:

Oh really? So you just asking me to come over and talk in private so that no one knows what is going on with you and going MIA the last two days is not asking for help? 

Zombiewithagun:

Are you coming or not replacement

Replacement:

Let me just loop the cameras and I’m there

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Note to self, do not make a list of all you have to do, it will overwhelm you so much you will not do what you have to do. Danny was struggling. With the amount of shit he did at night he honestly forgot he was in school. Here he was, writing up his English paper for a class he took as extra credit, and utterly failing. He couldn’t get past the second page because his mind was too busy being occupied by his night activities. He hadn’t even started on any of the things he’s supposed to make.

Danny groaned as he covered his face with both his hands and slowly dragged them down. He wasn’t getting anywhere on this paper. No way. He sighed before getting up from his floor and making his way to the spare room he had in his apartment. The floors were covered in random bits of metal and machinery, toasters and blenders taken apart piece by piece, as well as different tools and screens. Danny walked around each thing though, maneuvering his body in a practiced ease. What he wanted was hidden in the walls of the room. 

The case from Vladco. It had been covered in anti-ghost technology (apart from the handle), and while it didn't affect Danny too much as a human, it still shocked him- an experience he'd rather leave behind at 14. 

He couldn't get in the case and didn't want to resort to breaking it because what if anything was fragile? What was inside was a major clue to Vlad, or at least what he was planning. The man never went without a fight, and his scheming capabilities were one Danny had experienced more often than not. His disappearance wasn't as simple as it seemed. 

And that just reminded him of his parents. They've been gone for two years now. He had no clue as to where they could have gone, or who could have taken them. He had searched endlessly for them the first 3 months. Every single bit of Amity park was scanned and checked, even underneath it. His house was scoured for clues more times than he could count. His search had come up fruitless, even with the help of Jazz, Tucker, and Sam. By the time it had been 5 months, Jazz had convinced him to move on. 

She was living her best life in Yale getting her Phd. She had gotten in on a full scholarship and was in her freshman year when their parents disappeared. She moved on. She loved their parents, and he knew she was still searching till this day, keeping an eye out on the news, but she had a life. Jazz had insisted he let their disappearance become secondary. He had already run away long before they went missing, but the news had dragged him back to that empty house once more. 

His parents hadn’t even noticed he’d been gone. Even with the portal closed, they remained as obsessed as before. Danny didn’t know why he even thought they’d be any different. Jazz had been right. She had told him they didn’t deserve his protection or his case. She had said that letting them go was the best for him. She had told him that even if he found them, even if they were alive and safe, he wouldn’t live with them. 

She was right. She was always right, and oh how he wished she was here to tell him what to do. He missed her, but he knew it was his fault. 

She had moved on. She was doing better. She wasn't cleaning up after Danny and his messes. She wasn't covering for him or protecting him. She was allowed to do things she wanted, and Danny would never get in the way with that. He cut contact. He stopped talking. He ignored her. He left Amity and never told anyone where he was going. 

Sam and Tucker helped him out a lot. They were also going around the country for college. They knew they couldn't help Danny like they did their entire high school career. He didn't tell them what the GIW were truly up to. He didn't tell them the actual danger he was in. He didn’t tell them a lot of things actually. He said it was to protect them, but they’d call him selfish, selfish and stupid and kind. 

He treasured their parting gifts. They had all repurposed some Fenton phones and made them practically impenetrable, untrackable, and far distanced. They were for emergencies. Locations can only be sent to the other phones. There were 5 in existence, Dani had the remaining one from the list. Tucker had given him tons of gifts: a new identity (Daniel Nightingale), the virus he had used on the Vlad Co computers, and an encrypted server and system for him to keep track of everything he could possibly keep track of. He used the last gift to keep track of all his abilities and their limits (as well as weaknesses). 

Sam had given him money, so much money it had kickstarted his life after Amity. He still did odd jobs along the way while on the run, getting into some situations that Jazz would surely have a heart attack over, but he needed the cash and they paid well. Still, Sam had given him enough to last a while. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t even used all of it yet. She had apparently made so many deals with her parents starting from Junior year in order to get the amount. Danny now had an explanation for the amount of weekends she spent across the country in pink frilly dresses. 

Jazz had cried when she went off the college. She had parted with the group a year prior to the main trio. The hugs alone had made them all a mess of babies. She had kissed each of them on the head, giving them individual letters she wrote and whispers full of promises. When the two siblings had a time alone, Danny had been given a family album Jazz had made on her own, pictures from their childhood that she had been responsible for getting when their parents were off chasing a pipe dream. Not only that, he had been giving all of his credentials: social security, birth certificate, identification, birth records, hospital records, the whole nine yards. He was in possession of his whole life just in case it ever went astray. 

Jazz had been the start to his run away plan. She had been the first step to his plan B, to his last resort. His friends- no, his family , had given him his survival. They had given him a second chance, a third, even. Leaving his house the minute he turned 18 wasn’t something he did on a whim, no, he’d been planning it for years, and had only actually got a start at 17. 

Though, he did wonder what would happen to his parents had he stayed. He left 2 months before they disappeared. If he had been home, would he have prevented it? Could he have saved them? Could he have protected them from an unknown entity? Done his job as a hero, and just helped his own parents? His selfishness, his desire to leave, had cost him his parents. Was it his fault? Could he be selfish enough to blame himself, to declare it his own fault for reaching for something out of what was given to him. Sam, Tucker, Jazz, even Dani, they had all been able to leave with no consequences, but they weren’t Phantom. They didn’t hold the responsibilities he did. Amity was his haunt, his home, he was supposed to protect it and everyone in it, that included his enemies, that included his parents. 

But he hadn’t done that, had he? 

He had left. He had abandoned them. He had closed them off from the rest of humanity and shut the portals. His stay there had left the city in shambles. He had been the cause of their despair. If he just didn’t touch that portal. If he just stayed outside and said no to Sam when they were young and stupid. If this, if that, if, if, if, if, if he had been better . 

But it never really was about that, was it? He never wanted this life. What was there to be better at? Logically he knew. He knew that he deserved a life where his own bedroom was safe. He knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent their disappearance. He knew that after two years finding them was unlikely. He knew their death was at a higher chance than anything else. He knew that if they had left, rather than been taken, there was no way he’d find them, and no way he’d want to. He knew, he knew , that it wasn’t his fault, so why did he feel like it was? 

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.

.

“Okay, what did you need so bad that you called me over here?”

Tim dropped his backpack at the entryway and closed the door behind him. The room was in a mess, cleaner than when Jason just woke up, but still a mess. The walls had blood on them, dried, of course, but the smell was tell alone. Jason was sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees with his head in his hand. He rose and rested his chin on one of his hands, giving Tim a sideways glance. 

“Woah, what happened here?”

“Just sit down.”

“Where? The floor?”

“No, the fucking cieling.”

“Fine, Jesus.”

Tim plopped down on the floor criss cross, looking at Jason expectantly for an explanation. The other sighed before dropping his arms and resting them against his knees. 

“Okay fine, but none of this reaches the rest of the family, you hear? Not a single soul can know.”

“Jason, you’re worrying me over here.”

“Look, I’ve come into contact with Ghost Face more than once.”

“Well yeah, there was the time at the raid and the one before it, right?”

“There was a third time.”

“I’m guessing this was a few days ago?”

“Just- something about him didn’t sit right with the pit. Every time I’ve seen him, been in his presence, I had to hold myself back from shooting first and asking questions later.”

Tim gave him his full attention, picking at his nails to avoid any distracting movement. Jason nearly laughed at how intrigued Tim seemed. This case had gotten him up the walls in curiosity, and he knew Tim was only better than the big bat himself in this regard. 

“This time it was different. He wasn’t doing no big steal or major crime. He was rummaging through a dumpster.”

The younger remained silent, letting Jason get all of his thoughts and memories out. Jason appreciated it. 

“He was just minding his business, I wouldn’t have realized it was him if the outfit and mask weren't so familiar. I stopped him and we just stood there. Tim, this was the dumpster of my apartment building. This one. We didn’t talk before I just attacked him. I don’t know, it was just a strong feeling of ‘fight’. The pit wasn’t like the rage it usually was. Usually, it’s this overwhelming anger, this seething feeling fighting and fighting for control at all times. It’s never felt like that before.”

“Like what?”

He uttered with a bated breath. Jason had his whole attention, now especially.

“Like fear ”

Chapter Text

They sat in silence as Tim digested the information. Jason hadn’t even gotten through the whole story, but he still let the other sit and take everything in before he added more. 

“Okay, okay do you want to unpack the part with the pit now? Or later.”

Jason wanted to say never, but he knew that if he wanted Tim’s help he’d need to be as honest as he could manage. 

“Later, let’s get through the events first.”

Tim nodded and changed his seating to on his knees, his hands intertwined and resting against his thighs. 

“We fought, and as we fought we bantered? I don’t know, Dick would have the time of his life with him though.”

“Were you flirting with the new rogue, Jason?”

“I wasn’t flirting, Tim.”

“Oh my god! You totally were! My two older brothers have such shitty taste.”

“Hey! Kor’i was a great choice on Dick’s part.”

“Really? You know what, I’m not going to unpack that, and you didn’t deny you have shitty taste.”

“Shut it.”

“Fine, fine, let’s move on. What was he flirting- I mean saying to you?”

Jason let that bit slide.

“It seemed like he didn’t know what was in the case either. His motives are all over the place.”

“He doesn’t know? Then why would he take it?”

“Like hell I know.”

“It’s strange though, isn’t it? This entire time he’s been stealing very specific items, parts or tools, never random stuff. He only stole what he needed, leaving the expensive pieces alone. Money isn’t his angle, so what is?”

“I tried asking-”

“Demanding.”

“I tried asking him, but no dice. He kept maneuvering the conversation away from it. I think we should look into Vlad Co a little stronger. Because he’s been stealing from seemingly anywhere with what he needs, we didn’t think too much about VladCo, but when I found him there the first time, he wasn’t stealing anything. He was glued to a computer, typing around on it. Somehow, he sensed me and closed out of everything and just ran for it before I could even enter the room. He wasn’t stealing anything, at least nothing physical. Strange, don’t you think?”

Tim had his hand on his chin, holding it with a concentrated look on his face. Jason gave him a moment once more, knowing he needed to sort through all his thoughts. 

“Could it be revenge? Or is he looking for something? It feels like more than just a scheme. It feels like we’re missing so much information. Like if he hadn’t stolen from Wayne Industries we would have never caught wind of him. He’s good, too good, so why risk himself like that for a case he doesn’t even know what it contains? He knew we were there, of course he did, he could have come back at any time, so why risk it and do an extraction then?”

“Think he’s on a time limit?”

“No. It can’t be that. He takes too much time in between his heists. The items are specific enough that he knows what he’s doing with it, it’s not like he's figuring out the schematics on the way. If he was in a rush, we wouldn’t still be tracking him down 7 months later. He’s smart, and skilled. 7 months is too long for whatever he’s building.”

“You seem to hold him in such high regard. “

“It’s the facts.”

“Well, this next bit might take you out.”

Tim inched closer on the floor. Oh no, he was fully invested. 

“He knew I died, and not the way that the rumors think.”

“What?”

“I mean he told me I died, and when I finally got him to talk, he said he had experience with people like me.”

“What did he say exactly?”

“I don’t know for sure, but he said ‘beings touched by death’ when referring to me, but Tim, his eyes flashed green, lazarus green. ” 

Tim seemed to flinch a little, though if anyone else had been there they wouldn’t have noticed it. Once again, Jason gave Tim time. 

“Do you think he died?”

“Isn’t there another way his eyes could flash green? And even then, he felt different. If he did die, the lazarus waters didn’t bring him back, something else did.”

“On what grounds?”

“It’s just a feeling.”

Tim ignored Bruce’s voice in his head that insisted he argue more, interrogate, and insist. A feeling wasn't solid evidence. Your gut can get you far, but not far enough. Tim knew that Jason was different now than before, his growth was astronomical, it was why he was sitting in that room with him now. He knew that Jason’s ‘feelings’ were more than just anxiety, they were real, they were credible. Tim couldn’t sweep it under the rug, and despite their differences and disagreements he trusted Jason. More importantly, he trusted his gut, sometimes more than the facts presented in front of him. 

“Okay, I believe you, but what other way is there? Magic?”

“Would the pits react that way? They don’t react to other magic users. It has to be something similar to the pits themselves. Tim, that fear was more than just- I don’t know how to explain it, but it triggered my fight or flight response, and when he said I had died? I couldn’t hold it back anymore until he flashed his eyes and it brought me back for a second. The two days after that are a blur. I got back here, but after that? Nothing. I woke up and texted you back right away.” 

“Oh wow.”

Tim went silent and started to space out. Jason let him, his part was done. They could converse after on what to do, but right now he’d let Tim sort through it all. 

Jason got up and walked to his kitchen. It was mainly barren, but he kept enough of the basic ingredients for back ups. Things like flour, sugar, oil, items that came in large quantities were usually stocked. He sighed before cleaning the dishes and using the bowl to make some low ingredient pancakes. They were a staple when he just started out and didn’t have time to waste on cooking. They weren’t the tastiest thing on the roster, but they were quick and easy and Jason had found cheap alternatives in making them good enough. 

Tim still sat on the living room ground working through just about everything possible. Jason never knew what was in that kid's head. He was only 3 years younger than him, but so much smarter. 

Jason sometimes wondered what their relationship would be like, what he would be like, 

had he lived, 

had he survived, 

had he stayed . 

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“Go into science, Danny! You have the genes for it, Danny! You just have to apply yourself, Danny!! Those liars. Stupid engineering class, stupid physics course work, stupid expensive textbooks that make people resort to crime!”

Danny grumbled as he paced his room. He had gotten nowhere with the case or the little black boxes. The boxes were luckily not ghost proof, but he didn’t know how to open them or if they could even be opened. He slid his hand inside and tried rummaging around, but came blank. It was getting late and he had more than enough homework to do, he was just avoiding it as much as possible. 

He had been switching majors constantly since last year. He had taken a gap because of how he’d been jumping from place to place before finding permanent residence in Gotham. Starting college at 19 was a bit of a social struggle, he could converse well enough but didn’t necessarily make any friends- dying did that to you. Sam and Tucker had been his ride or dies, they would understand his death jokes and puns, or his weird habits and tidbits. Amity Park was weird in general if he really thinks about it. 

Hey, at least he didn’t have a random red head accusing him of being a vigilante. No one here was calling him a rogue, well, apart from the bat clan, to them he was a rogue now that he thought about it. O my ancients, was he a villain? Was that saying true? ‘Either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain’ ? Had he had his character arc? Wait, he couldn’t die a hero because he became a hero from dying, is he even really living?

See, this is what he did instead of his homework. He no longer had an excuse for the missed work. In highschool, it wasn’t his fault that he was attacked multiple times a day (including night), but now? Now he had no reason. In fact, he was the one attacking- ish, committing crimes. Wow, he half-lived long enough to become the villain, huh, wouldn’t ya know. 

Anyways, he got off track again. English, physics, math, stuff like that were important. The only class he liked having homework for was astronomy and he only got big projects every month. He got too excited when he got the one for this month and finished it the week of, now he didn’t have any more to do and it was eating him inside out. 

He sighed as he sat down on the floor next to his coffee table. He hadn’t gotten a desk or anything, keeping his apartment bare. Getting his basic furniture here was a struggle enough, he’d stick with the table, bed, and couch. He had to finish at least something seriously, it was getting ridiculous. He had classes tomorrow afternoon anyways, and while he did work better in the school environment, he needed to get stuff done beforehand. The semester was almost over, and leaving it all last minute was educational suicide. Mr.Lancer couldn’t get him out of it anymore.

After about twenty minutes he deluded himself into taking a break. He got up, walked to his empty as can be kitchen, and started making himself coffee. Depending on where he was, certain cafe’s had a limit to how much espresso they’d put in a cup, and it was never enough. He had ended up resorting to making his own coffee in some areas, making a new concoction every week for the hell of it. Normal caffeine amounts didn’t work on his ghost biology, most stuff didn’t. Alcohol? Doesn’t stay in his system long enough. Medication? Tough luck. Any anesthesia? Solid no, learned the hard way! 

He poured some of the ectoplasm he kept in the freezer into the cup. Every Time he had come across a natural portal he had stocked up on as much ecto as possible, it helped on the run. Still, he was getting low, and there was no good supply in sight. After defeating Pariah Dark he had gotten way more in tune with the zone, so he could just feel natural portals opening up, but  they were too dangerous to use, too unstable. The corruption in Gotham messed with his  senses a bit, though. 

The coffee reminded him of Fenton works and the reanimated food. Oh ancients, the fun memories he had fighting off turkeys and hot dogs. Nothing says a strange childhood like killer food. Though, there were some good memories from that kitchen, like him and Jazz learning how to cook together and finding new recipes to eat each night. Ancients, he missed her, but no, not going down that rabbit hole again. 

Despite popular belief (there was no popular belief about him other than the fact that he was weird), he did in fact know how to cook (and bake!). Now, had he sat down and made a legit meal for himself in the last two years? Absolutely not. Could he do it? Yes. He just might once he was done with the portal and figuring everything out. 

Ugh, the portal was another headache on his list. He needed it to survive, the ambient ectoplasm in Gotham was enough to keep him going, but it was corrupt, sooner or later it’d make him sick. He was getting weaker, and with the lack of use of his powers his ghost half was fading little by little. But a portal would be a practical beaker to the GIW and he couldn’t take them on at full power. He needed the portal to be powerful, but he needed to be powerful to make the portal safely. It was a horrid cycle. He already knew how to build it, he could do it at any time, but the question was how to do it without ticking his location off. 

He needed to create brand new machines to hide ecto signatures, and his parents’ research wouldn’t be as helpful as destructive. All their work had been biased and for the harm of ghosts, and while he could usually alter or reverse engineer it to his advantage, what he needed to hide his ecto signature was more than a backwards ecto locator. He was a powerful ghost, he knew that, he feared that. He needed to hide his signature specifically, because that is what the GIW was tracking- not ghosts- him . 

He almost entertained the idea of making him invisible to their tech, but that would be a temporary solution, and temporary solutions were a waste of his measly amount of resources. Plus, there were other ghost hunters out there, freelancers, some had come to Amity while he was there. What was stopping the GIW from hiring outside help? Pride? Pride only lasted so long against desperation. If he could hide his signature completely, then he wouldn’t have to worry too much. 

But the research for that was going slow. Experimenting on himself was a lengthy process. Plus, first he had to make a locator linked in on his signature (thank ancients for the boo-merang). 

His time was running shorter though. Moving into crime alley, the heart of the corruption, had been a bad (but necessary) decision on his part. It extended his freedom, but lowered his chances. His body naturally filtered the ectoplasm he took in, but with no new source he was stuck cycling the bad stuff. He wouldn’t die for good, but he’d be at a lower capacity, and he’d rather not when going against the government. If he couldn’t figure this out soon, he’d have to resort to asking for help, Tucker being his best bet, but would he help him after all this time? Last contact he’s had with him was two years ago. 

Danny checked in on them. He’d used alt social media accounts to follow them and just see how they were doing. Sam had a public account, so it was easy to check in on her. She was the head of an activist group over in California. Her page was filled with pictures of protests and vegetarian food, her popularity was honestly quite high. Tucker, on the other hand, was privated. Danny just followed his main account. Tucker had started gaming competitively for quick money, and he was good at it. Though a deeper search did show that good ol’ Tuck was doing some underground business in information for some heroes. 

At least his oldest friend wasn’t completely out of the business. While his man in the chair wasn’t his man in the chair, it was nice to know that the other’s skills hadn’t gotten rusty. Neither had Danny’s. He still fought his fair share of bad guys, though human, and not as often. He really needed to get back into it, soon enough Tucker would have more experience than Danny, and that is just plain embarrassing. 

Danny sat back down on his floor and picked up his laptop. He had a shit ton of work left to do, and reminiscing about his past over some good ol’ ecto kill coffee wasn’t helping anyone. 

He’d figure out his ghost issue another day. He just hoped his procrastination didn’t get him killed.

Chapter Text

“Done! Ahahahah! Yes!!”

Danny jumped in the air, going a bit higher than a normal person could and staying for a few seconds before dropping down, as if he lagged. He had proceeded to spin around and laugh. He had finished all of his homework, including the assignments he got extensions on. He had put on horror lets plays in the background on his laptop and kept it in the back page. Something about hearing comedic youtubers go through a horror game they were wholly unequipped for just made him work better. Though, he couldn’t explain why. 

He had discovered this in highschool. Tucker had invited him over so he could do all his course work without the threat of his parents and their built- in security system. Danny had been on the floor with a mini table in front of him cramming out all of his algebra two homework and Tucker was playing this new video game he had gotten. It was a horror one, and of course Tucker missed that fact because of the lady on the front. He had started playing it and 3 minutes in was already screaming and talking to himself over every creak, noise, and worry. It did wonders for Danny's work speed.

Tucker had been his safe haven starting sophomore year. His parents had slowly descended into full blown obsession, worse than the box ghost. With their inventions only getting better and better, their determination holding new traction, Danny’s home life wasn’t ever going to be safe. Danny’s homelife was never safe he’d come to realize.

The group's summers were filled with learning next year's curriculum, studying ghosts and all involved with it, reverse engineering his parents’ tech, and fighting more ghosts (with the addition of ghost hunters). They had even made a home base to run away to if they needed it. Sam’s attic was uninhabited and abandoned by her parents. The group had built a hidden entrance for the humans (mostly humans*) meanwhile the halfas just flew in. The space was huge (‘stupid rich people’ Tucker would complain), they all had their own designated area for their separate interests, while the middle of the room had a circular table with comfy chairs surrounding it. Jazz would joke about how it was like the knights of the round table, even going so far as to make them all their own swords. 

Danny chuckled at the memories. Dani had gone ballistic at the sword, swinging it around right away and nearly destroying the place. Sam was silent in her craziness, turns out she owned her own mace and brought it in just to show the clone. Jazz had said that her lifetime was being cut short from stress, and Danny just smiled and rubbed her back in consolation. 

He missed his group so much, but he had work to do. He had work he needed to do- not just for him, not just for ghosts, but for them . Danny slapped himself on the face with both hands. He can’t keep getting into fits of memories. This mission of his was important, and thinking about his (chosen) family wasn’t helping anyone. A sad ghost isn’t a successful-thief-taking-down-the-government ghost. A sad Danny is a distracted Danny whose tears are radioactive to the general populace. 

He dragged his hands down his face and sighed. He got up from the floor he’s made home of for the last couple of hours and stretched out all of his limbs. He thanked the ancients for his understanding professors. He put away all his class work and closed his laptop, returning everything to his backpack (the school one) and returned to the extra room in the back of his apartment. The items he collected from the trash earlier (before Red Hood so rudely interrupted him) could get him started on the ecto-tracker. Simply going in and stealing one from the GIW was dangerous. All of their equipment was locked in on him, so unless he found a way to shield himself, a mission like that would be suicide. 

He sighed as he sat on the ground once again. He had a couple hours left until he needed to sleep if he wanted at least 3 hours. He’d be exhausted in class tomorrow, but it’d be worth it, if he could get even a little bit of progress done. 

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.

.

Tim had risen from his place on the floor and walked over to where he sensed the amazing smell. Jason was just about done with the pancakes. Tim smiled softly to himself where the other couldn’t see him before walking over and setting the table. Two plates (paper), two forks, two cups, and maple syrup and sweetened condensed milk. The house had just about the bare minimum, so finding syrup was a surprise, let alone the sweetened condensed milk. 

“Almost done?”

“You done with your mental sorting?”

“Did I really take that long?”

“I made pancakes while waiting, so I’d say so, yeah.”

“Okay, whatever Jason.”

“Just sit down and eat, replacement.”

There he goes again with that stupid nickname. Tim realistically knew why Jason called him that, it’s hard not to know when he was almost killed over it. Though, that didn’t change the fact that he hated the name. He could handle it from Jason now, but he didn't know what he’d do if anyone else called him that. He almost found it funny, in a way, the replacement that got replaced.

“Hey? You there?”

“Huh?”

“You got trapped in your own head again.”

“Oh, do I do that a lot?”

“What?”

“Get lost in my head?”

“I don’t spend too much time with you, but never in the field, if that’s your worry.”

“What about outside of the field?”

“Sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not a bad thing. You only do that at ho- the manor. Sometimes when you’re in the batcave. It’s just how you process. Dick always joked that your brain holds so much information finding the right pieces must be hard.”

Tim didn’t note the slip-up. He remained silent, finally eating his pancakes and letting Jason return to his normal self (his front). He didn’t realize he spaced out. He was so used to always speeding up his thoughts, if he can’t think fast enough, if he’s not useful enough , what would happen to everyone else? He could hear Bruce telling him it’s a horrible habit, getting lost. The danger he’d be putting himself in is astronomical- but Jason said he didn’t do it on the field. Jason said that he only did it at the manor, at home. Jason said it was okay. Why did he care about what Jason said? 

The sound of snapping knocked him out of his inner brain. Jason was giving him a look, confused, annoyed, and worried? 

“Are you with me? You never space out when you’re over here. Is something up?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hey-”

“Just eat.”

Tim didn’t even want to unpack the potential conversation that could have stemmed from that. He chose to just sit and finish his share. He had forgotten to eat something before coming over here anyways. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t tell anyone he was coming here. Oh right, he skipped school, telling them he’d be going anywhere was just asking for an interrogation and a punishment. If he was benched one more time he’d actually go insane. Rogue’s didn’t have to do homework [somewhere else a certain thief was crying over English]. 

Once he was finished, he threw away his plate and washed his fork and cup. Jason followed right after him. The two of them proceeded to clean the kitchen in silence.  Tim had never spent this much time alone with Jason for anything other than a mission, so this was all new territory. Still, he was glad to be here for Jason’s new rogue crush, even if the other would insist that the thief was just an insufferable criminal who happens to be flirtatious. Jason wasn’t fooling anyone. Tim knew his brother got around enough with all types of people that Phantom Thief would be one of his better options, truly. 

“So, what do you plan to do about Phantom Thief now?”

“Well I’m going to start actively looking for the bastard. Might spread word around my connections and gang about him.”

“Oh, you’re taking this pretty seriously.”

“Yeah well Ghost Face pissed me off, and I need to know more about his connection with the lazarus pits.”

“Which, I get, but please keep me posted. I have a bad feeling about this, we’re missing more than just a bit of information. It feels like we hold a cup of sand to a whole beach.”

“I got it. Don’t do this alone, talk to the guy in the chair, and try not to go into another pit rage.”

“And that just brings another problem. Are you sure I’m not bothering you by being here?”

“No, you’re fine. Right after one is usually mellowed out. The pit goes quiet after a rage, but it’s way too dangerous to have them at all, even if the silence is amazing.”

Tim sighed. He almost didn’t want to leave, but he had to thoroughly go through this case for Jason. The thief was bringing up way too many concerns for the other, and Tim wasn’t just going to sit by and let it happen. Jason trusted Tim with this. Tim, not Dick, not Bruce, not any of the thousand other options that would be better than him in any way. 

“Jason, I’m going to go and sneak into the batcave, I’ll try and figure out more about Phantom Thief-”

“Ghost face.”

“Phantom Thief.”

Jason had this grin on his face, one that smelled of trouble. At this point he knew he was doing it just to piss him off. Tim sighed before dragging his hand down his face.

“I sneak out, I come here, to help you, and this is how you repay me?” 

“It’s not my fault you're using the wrong name.”

“Did Phantom Thief tell you his moniker was Ghost face?”

“Yes, he did.”

Now Tim just knew that wasn’t the truth. It didn’t matter how good his siblings were at lying, he could always tell, even when Bruce couldn’t.

“You fucking liar!”

Jason almost laughed.

“I wonder.”

Tim groaned before banging his head against the wall.

“You’re horrible.”

“And yet you got here in under 10 minutes cus I asked so nicely-”

“Rudely- and it was 10 minutes 23 seconds, actually.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, your highness, let me atone for my sins through hell- oh wait, been there done that.”

“I’m done. Bye Jason.”

Tim flipped him off before leaving and slamming the door behind him, leaving Jason alone in his apartment once more. 

.

.

.

No information was coming up on Phantom thief. Literally nothing. Tim tried going over the footage, and doing everything in his power to make it easier to see, but nothing. Not even the whites of the scream mask could be seen through the grainy footage. 

Whoever this guy was, his ability to mess with tech this way was unmatched. Tim didn’t know if it was tech or a meta ability. Though, if it was a meta ability, isn’t it weird that it only affects recording equipment? All other tech that came into contact with him were unaffected. Maybe his control was just unnaturally good? But if so, why only hear about him now? There’s no record of any meta with that kind of power, let alone such skill with it. Plus, the distortion lasts quite a while, and using abilities as a meta is tiring, wouldn’t this be quite the feat? 

If it was a machine, Tim could counter it, but even that was tricky. It had to be home made, nothing on any market worked quite the way the tool Phantom Thief was using did. And that laid the same problem as a meta ability- it only affected recording equipment. 

Was there a hidden 3rd option? For some reason Tim had this feeling that it was neither machine or power, there was something else. He just couldn’t figure it out for the life of him. 

Tim decided to start from the beginning. 

7 months ago, a lab at Wayne Industries was broken into, undetected, and stolen from at 4 am. The only evidence of its occurrence was the distorted and frankly unusable camera and recordings, as well as the missing items themselves. The break in was not noticed until afterwards, meaning the bats hadn’t even realized the issue until the next day.

From then on forward, more labs and buildings with machinery or other technological parts were broken into and stolen from, all with the same tricks and methods. Wayne Industries had set up a marker for when the cameras went out, but whenever it did go off, the suspect in question had already fled the scene. The items taken had gone from a motherboard (not in use) to a 3d printer. The sizes of the items seemed to show no problem or obstacle to the thief. 

Phantom Thief was previously an unknown subject, someone (or something) untouchable, intangible almost. No one had ever even gotten a glimpse of him, until Red Hood. 6 months of nothing, absolute nada, just for his brother to spot him and even come into contact with him. It didn’t help that Jason was the least detailed in his reports compared to the rest of the family. 

For some reason, Phantom Thief didn’t run away when faced with Red Hood in comparison to the rest of the bats, and Tim was starting to believe that it was linked to that ‘experience with death’ thing. Phantom’s thing with those ‘touched by death’ made Jason someone he let his guard down against. Whether the new rogue realized it or not, they’d be taking advantage of it. Maybe that connection was why Jason had come into contact with him 3 times the last month, despite no one else having that same pleasure over half a year. 

Tim didn’t know whether the connection between the Phantom Thief and the Red Hood was good or bad, but he hoped for his brother's sake that it wouldn’t end with one of them dead for good.

Chapter Text

He stretched his arms above his head, cracking all his joints in the process. His knuckles were soon popped after, including each part of his fingers and even wrists. The chair beneath him creaked in the dark room, the only thing lighting him up was his laptop screen in front of him. It was late, but he had to get this done first. The faster he was done, the quicker he could go to sleep, amen.

Taking one more sip from his juice (not coffee, that was reserved for someone else) he set the cup down and started typing once more, this time faster than his usual pace. He kept repeating the mantra in his head, desperate for sleep so late in the night (at this point early morning). 

With a final click, he closed his laptop, sighed, and took off his glass, rubbing the eyes beneath them. How much longer would he be doing this? These jobs gave him money, but he wasn’t in the action like he used to be. 

He missed Danny and he missed Sam and he even missed Jazz and Dani. Tucker scooted his chair back. He knew Danny was okay, or at least, from the little information he could find he was okay. Danny Nightingale applied for and attained a full ride scholarship at Gotham University (Tucker had nothing to do with that *wink wink*) and was attending classes when he had them without fail. 

Danny Nightingale was an absolute ghost (haha) outside of that. Did it worry the tech geek? Absolutely. Did that make him dig further and risk Danny’s current life? No. Danny left for a reason, he had to, Tucker didn’t want to ruin it for him. The halfa had been through hell and back and deserved some normalcy for once in his goddamn half life. It didn’t matter that his best friend since forever wanted to contact him or missed him or still checked in on him or tried his best to be uninvolved so he didn’t accidentally ruin everything. It didn’t matter because Danny mattered. 

He mattered more to Tucker than anything really could, maybe his PDA could fight for that role, but let’s not get into specifics. Still, Danny was still his best friend, even if it’d been 2 years since they’d last spoken or seen each other, even if Danny had seemingly moved on without him. No, Tucker couldn’t get into that mentality. He just had to trust the other, after all, they’ve always been there for each other, even through death. 

He’d leave Danny alone, because that’s what best friends do. They let their best friend move on and thrive even if that didn’t include them, and Tucker was Danny’s bestest best friend.

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Tucker's leave-danny-alone-policy changed the second he got a ping on his work computer. While he had gotten pretty famous over the last year and a half he decided to do this, he didn’t think he’d be getting a ping from Gotham of all places. The people who usually called for his services were small time vigilantes that Tucker approved of after checking them out. He had a fucked list. People on the fucked list didn’t get help from him, and he’d always figure it out when one was trying to use a different name. He always would, so when a ping from the Oracle of Gotham, he nearly had a heart attack and joined Danny right then and there.

Oracle didn’t need outside help. They were the best of the best, at least in Tucker’s fanboy opinion. There were a few people that made it to Tucker’s would-make-a-shrine-if-i-could list - Oracle being near the top. Their work had been something to look up to on his end. Oracle was a rumor amongst the hacking community, but Tuck knew better, he knew they were real. He followed the trails, he noted the patterns and the technique. His fanboying was to the point that he could recognize their work from a mile away, so he knew this was legit. 

And the legitimacy of this call had him blinking, rubbing his eyes, blinking again, walking out the room, walking back, looking at the laptop once more, and then promptly falling to the floor tearing off his hat and staring blankly at his desk. It was well past the point of disbelief, he genuinely thought he was dreaming before pinching himself, hard, and promptly yelping and realizing this was in fact reality and that was in fact Oracle asking him for assistance. 

It took him collectively 14 seconds before he got up, hurried over, and sat down in his office chair. His hands were practically shaking as he opened up the message ping on the forum he created for his underground work. 

UserSS3890

Technus. How much in order to get the maximum information of one Vlad Masters as well as everything on his company Vlad Co.

“Shit.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit”

Tucker stood up so fast his chair rolled halfway across the room. He put his hands in his hair, remembering the hat that laid crumpled on the floor in his surprise. He tugged at the coiled strands and mumbled profanities to himself. 

“Fucking fruitloop I swear to the ancients.”

He sighed before grabbing his chair and sitting back down at his desk, the message board still open.

“Okay, you got this Foley, just breathe, probe for more questions, find out what you need, and then decide whether or not to take the job.”

He couldn’t possibly take the job. Vlad Masters led to Amity park which led to ghosts which led to the Fentons which led to Danny, and Danny was doing so good . Why were they even interested in Vlad, what had happened? 

He switched tabs and started his research on Vlad, last sighting 7 months ago at a Wayne Gala. There was no way they were searching for Vlad. It had been 7 months, they wouldn’t resort to his help so late. Something else must have come up, resurfaced their interest, brought their attention, and looking into it themselves didn’t work. 

Anything past the normal searches of Vlad Co. would bring up an impenetrable block, the GIW had made sure of that, even using ectoplasm. No device without ectoplasm engraved in it could even dream of hacking into the strong firewall. It was the reason Tucker was so protected doing this work. The only one who could hack into his stuff was the GIW, and none of them were good enough. Tucker didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he was pretty sure no one could even dream of hacking into his systems except for Oracle and Red Robin (another person on his shrine list). 

It made sense why Oracle had asked him for help, but the problem was that he didn’t know if he should help them. They had no way of getting any other information unless they got it from him, but his refusal to find anything would be suspicious. Any information he could give would be a problem, so he couldn’t tell them anything, even if he idolized them beyond imagination. Amity park led back to him too, after all. 

Still, if Oracle couldn’t find anything on Vlad, who’s to say he could? 

Technus

All I can find are the basics, there seems to be a firewall hoarding any deeper information. I can’t work at it so far. I could try more, but with how it’s currently going, it’s unlikely. Unfortunately, I may have to pass this job down unless I get a lead outside of technology. I can offer you what I have currently found, but that of course comes at a price. 

UserSS3890

I see. I was aware of the block but was wondering if you would be of greater help. I don’t need any other information, I was able to get a hold of the basics through my own effort. Don’t put in wasteless effort. 

Technus

I understand. I do apologize for my lacking services.

Tucker prayed to the ancients that they didn’t find that suspicious. He did waste a couple of minutes since the ping, so maybe Oracle would be under the impression that he actually tried? He did do a quick search, but that was on what he could find as to why they’d need to know about him. Still, the suspicion on Vlad’s company was something he had to look into privately. It was almost stupid how he had let the entire company slip past him once gone from Amity.

The other pressing issues took over his mind. The fentons had gotten worse and so did the GIW, and then Danny closed the portals which led to all ghost forces focussing on him, that plus school, and then more. It had been hectic, and that wasn’t even counting when the Fentons went missing. Danny had been torn, and Tucker had tried, he really did, to find anything he could, but they dropped off the map. Whatever happened that day, there was no footage of them even leaving the house, strange considering the whole building lacked any dark spots. 

Cameras showed nothing, the tech inside showed nothing, scans showed nothing, he couldn’t do anything and his best friend was suffering for it, again. Why was it that he was never able to help him? Tucker hadn’t helped him when he died, or when his powers acted up, or when he was hunted, or when he was bullied, or when he was failing school, or when he fought ghosts, or or or or- 

Tucker was getting distracted. He had a job to do now. Oracle wouldn’t stop looking, and if that meant going to Wisconsin and then Amity Park themselves, Tucker knew they’d do it. This meant he had to remove all traces of Danny possible as well as look into it himself. Vlad had gone missing, and Tucker needed to know why. That man being quiet was always bad news, and usually the one getting hurt was his best friend. 

Maybe Tucker could use this as an excuse to know more, to look further than the basic college attendance, and finally, actually look at his friend and how he was doing. Tucker knew it went against his promise, but this was dangerous, he reasoned. If Oracle was looking into Vlad, they’d eventually look into Danny, and Tucker couldn’t have that happen. He was doing this to protect his friend, and if he managed to check in and watch over him like in their  highschool days- well, no one could stop him. 

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Oracle banged her head against her table. That lead had been a dud too. She had even succumbed to asking for help from other hackers, something she has never had to do before, but this case was just infuriating her. Bruce had asked her to look into the company (after figuring out which one it could be), and she was! But she couldn’t find jack shit on it. It was as if the company didn’t exist apart from the one or two articles made public about it from the CEO himself- and that brought upon another issue! Vlad Masters was a missing man. Had they not known about him through the new rogue, he’d have slipped through their sights and remained missing. 

How had they not noticed this elite vanishing? It wasn’t publicized, sure, nothing had been of this man (apart from his obsession with the Green Bay Packers- why?), but his whole disappearance? What’s worse is that his last appearance was at a Wayne Gala! A Wayne Gala and not a single member of the Wayne Family even realized he was there, let alone went missing right after. Seriously, Barbara was going to scream. 

Technus had been useless. Why did she assume some underground hacker with an at home set up could find something out that she couldn’t? She knew the chances were low, but any shot was better than no shot, sadly, this one missed. 

Technus had offered her the basics, but she declined. She knew the basics, she has known them since she was presented the case in the first place. Though, she was glad Technus had denied the job rather than trying to scam her and offer fake information. She might ask for his assistance at a later date when she’s stretched far thin, Bruce’s pockets weren’t shrinking anytime soon after all. 

She sighed as she wheeled herself away from the desk. Her hands were cramping, patrol was in a few hours, and she hadn’t eaten enough yet. This case was slowly taking over her life, now she understood how Tim felt. She took back every time she made fun of him or nagged him for his obsessive behavior. She didn’t deal with nearly as many cases as he did, and this singular one was exhausting her while simultaneously taking all of her attention. It was like a child. 

She nearly banged her head on the wall once more from thinking about it. She needed a break, a reprieve, a breath of fresh air if you will. She wheeled herself to her kitchen (adjusted to her new height) before finding the other half of a sandwich she made the day before  and eating it while listening to the movie she left playing in the other room after thinking of a new lead. 

She seriously needed a vacation.

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Tucker was going to kill Danny for a second time- no- for good. 

Best friends didn’t keep being government fugitives on the run from each other, and Tucker was going to make damn sure Danny knew that.

The undead prick had it coming. 

Chapter Text

Gunshots rang out, hurting the halfa’s sensitive ears. 

Danny was screwed, oh so so screwed. He was backed into yet another corner with Red Hood blocking his exit. How had he gotten 6 months without any Bats seeing him? It felt like every time he left his house for anything other than school he was bumping into the crime lord of the area. Seriously, he can’t go dumpster diving without getting shot at. Well, this time he wasn’t actually dumpster diving, he was breaking into a well known bar in the area. Well, the bar wasn’t well known, but the shady business they did in the basement was. 

To be fair, he didn’t know that he needed holmium. That metal was hard to come by, so why a mini black market in Gotham had it was beyond him, but all the more opportunities for him! Listen, if they got it illegally, would stealing it really be a crime? He stole from a thief, that’s like karma! It was a quick little operation, just get in through the back walls after damaging all the cameras past the point of function, and then steal the fancy radioactive case and get out. 

It was simple! But then he found other stuff, like people. Not workers, no, people being sold , trafficked . So of course he had to release them all, and that kind of blew his cover. Well, not kind of, it totally did, but it was worth it! He couldn’t just sit and watch, most of these guys were kids , and by the special cuffs, metas. He wasn’t going to just allow that shit! 

But of course the second he starts fighting off all the guys (who have guns!). Red Hood comes in and starts shooting up the place. Look, Danny really didn’t want to be there, and he knew that if he just left after getting what he needed he’d be fine, but he used to be a hero goddamnit. He couldn’t leave them there, but he couldn’t use his powers to get them out like he had gotten in, so he had to fight his way through. Did he know Red Hood was going to be there? No, no he did not, and he was so focused on the kids because oh my ancients they were injured and frail- that he failed to feel the marker of another sort-of-dead being coming near. 

He really hated how focused he got sometimes. It’s just that Danny was so used to feeling ghosts or liminals around him, that the mere presence was ignored and sort of comforting. It took him years to upgrade his ghost sense to feel halfas like Vlad had, but Red Hood didn’t feel like a halfa. It was hard, okay? The corruption in the air didn’t help, and Danny was pretty sure that it was shielding Red Hood from detection. Maybe that’s how he stayed safe for so long despite being clearly liminal at the least.

It didn’t matter though. Red Hood had seen the children at the front and knew what was going on. Danny had felt the pure rage. It was horrible. The corruption was thick in the air, and Danny’s senses were flooded with pure anger, vengeance, fury. He knew that Red Hood was having one of his moments like before, and if he saw him, Danny was sure to take the brunt of the other’s state. 

Escaping wasn’t easy though. He couldn’t leave out the back anymore, too many witnesses. He couldn’t go through the front, Red Hood was there. He remained standing in the back room, just watching it all unfold. He had been attacked by some of the criminals here, but they now laid unconscious on the floor, bruised and bloody. Danny may have gone a little hard, but at least they were alive. He needed all the victims away from him if he wanted to make his escape. 

“C̵͓̑̉̎à̴͓̌̍͜n̸̡̼̈ ̷̲̦͗ẻ̵͚̼v̴͓̮͗̽e̸̥͠ȑ̴͚̬̕ÿ̵̛͍o̸̭̿̀̔ǹ̵͕͕̔͠ḛ̴̖̓̅ ̵̟̉ẖ̴̨̊e̷̜̘͆a̸̛̫̫͒́r̴͈̗͛̋̔ͅ ̶̧̹̇̌̕m̸̫̖̞̎̀̈́e̶̛̙͖̜?̴̨̬̪̔͗” (Can everyone hear me?)

The children flinched back at his voice, Danny winced under his mask. He didn’t want to reveal his true voice, but this one was scary. Maybe he could lessen the issues?

“R̸ed̵ H̸ood̷ ̵is̶̶ u̴p ̸fro̵n̵t, h̸e'̵l̴l ̷p̷r̵ot̶e̴ct̶̵ y̸o̵u̶. I ̴ne̴ed̵ ̴y̷ou ̴t̴o g̴o̷ ̸to ̵h̵i̷m̴, ̵bu̸t ̸hid̸e ̵i̷n th̷e̵ ̸co̴r̴ner̸ ̵u̷nt̴i̶l he̴'s̶ ̵d̷o̴n̷e. ̵D̴o̴n'̸t ̴g̷o ̴t̵o t̴he ̸mai̵n ̶ro̶o̷m̴, ̵st̷ay̴ ̸in̵ ̵t̷h̶e ̴h̴allw̸a̷y̶. C̶a̷n ̶y̴o̷u̴ ̶d̷o̴ t̴h̴a̷t̵ f̶o̴r̸ ̵m̵e̴?̴” (Red Hood is up front, he'll protect you. I need you to go to him, but hide in the corner until he's done. Don't go to the main room, stay in the hallway. Can you do that for me?)

Multiple of the children there nodded, albeit shakily, before going forward. A man stood up from the ground just as the children and others left. Danny sighed before turning around and dodging the punch aimed for his face. He simply stepped to the side before grabbing the other’s extended arm, turning so his back faced the man’s chest, and flipped him over to the ground. The man’s back hit the concrete ground hard, having the wind knocked out of him. Danny proceeded to kick the guy’s head and knock him out once more. He may have kicked a little too hard, but bastards that sold children didn’t deserve all their bodily functions, now did they. 

And just as Danny was about to leave again, a gun was fired at him, hitting him near his shoulder. It was just above his collar bone, nothing too drastic, but he was bleeding. He turned to the assailant, only to see a bruised man wearing a fancy suit. He must have gotten past Red Hood. That was good though, it meant the vigilante was still occupied, and if Danny played his cards right, he could escape (mostly) scott-free. 

“You bastard! You’re the one that ruined this! You released them!”

His finger pulled the trigger, but this time Danny had moved out of the way in time, the bullet missing. Danny moved forward, grabbed the man’s wrist and pushed it upwards as the gun fired once more. He punched the other in the face, hard, but not enough to knock him out. He held the man there and punched once more, this time in his stomach. He squeezed the man’s wrist, making him drop the gun. Danny kicked it away, before grabbing him by the head and kneeing him in the chest. The man wheezed and curled into himself, Danny didn’t care, simply elbowing him in the face. The man stumbled back, but Danny grabbed his head and kneed him in the face once more, breaking his nose and knocking him out. 

The sound of a whistle knocked him out of his thoughts. There Red Hood stood, at the main entrance, blocking his way. Shit. 

“We meet again, Ghost Face.”

 “I̶̙͑ ̵̲̃p̴̧̅r̵̲͝e̷̹̽f̶̣̍e̸̜͠r̵̢̈ ̶̛̼P̸̹̑ḧ̷̙́a̵̘͘ń̴̗t̶͉͝ỏ̸͓m̵̧̈ ̸̧̃T̴̝̈́h̸̠͐i̵͔̽ḛ̵̊f̴̱̏,̴̯̏ ̴̢̈a̸̲̒c̵͇̑t̴̯͘ǘ̴͕ả̴͖l̷̟̆l̵̗͠ẏ̸͜.̵̼̉” (I prefer Phantom Thief actually)

“Don’t care. Why don’t you finally answer my questions then, hmm?”

Danny was so screwed. With his chest bleeding out, and his energy leaving him, he wasn’t in the best shape. He was tired, injured, and his aura was becoming unstable in reaction to his injury. While he could make it steady, he had to concentrate, and the situation was anything but calming. His heartbeat was reaching dangerous levels (for him) and he couldn’t let his blood touch the floor. Currently, his multiple layers were helping him, he didn’t even think Hood thought he was shot, but he couldn’t risk it. At least the rage wasn’t so suffocating anymore.

“I̵̯͘ ̶̮̐w̶̰͝ó̴̘n̷̻͂d̴̛͖e̴̫͑r̶̬̈́.̸̝́” (I wonder.)

“Ha. Ha. Hands up Ghost Face.”

Danny suppressed his urge to wince as he lifted both arms above his head. Luckily the holmium was safe inside of his chest, rather than being held in his hand like last time. His bullet wound pulled painfully as he lifted his arm. He could feel his skin tear slightly. The bullet was still lodged inside. 

“Now walk over to me.”

Red Hood had a gun aimed towards him, Danny knew he’d get shot if he didn’t comply, but complying meant a worse fate. He inched forward slowly, taking careful steps. Red Hood didn’t relent, holding his hand firm. 

“Just like that.”

And when Danny was a foot away, he ducked and went straight for the man’s throat. He punched him, hard, in his neck, even using a bit of his strength. He turned around, grabbed the gun, and yanked it so hard Hood had to let go. Danny kicked the gun away and elbowed Red Hood in the throat once more. The helmet would protect him, so Danny had to resort to other, more creative, targets. 

Hood flinched back and stumbled. Danny collapsed to the floor and swept his legs. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Hood quickly recovered and stabilized himself, cursing through the mask. Danny flew back as Hood kicked him across the chest. The halfa tumbled backwards, regaining his balance and reaching for the gun on the floor. He quickly grabbed it, steadied it and aimed it at Hood. The man in question stopped, before running forward. Danny shot him twice in the legs. 

Red Hood winced but kept going, Danny almost made a noise of surprise. He quickly rolled out of the way before firing 3 more times, this time some bullets hitting the man’s ankles. Hood slowed down and Danny took this as his chance to run. 

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Jason groaned as he collapsed onto his couch. He was sporting all new types of bruises, courtesy of a certain Ghost Thief. The bullets were rubber, of course, he didn’t want Ghost Face dead, but getting shot still hurt like a bitch. Still, Ghostie had damn good aim. He was moving quite fast, and to shoot accurately at his ankles more than once, was a goddamn feat. It was impressive, that’s for sure. Though, if his aim was that good, why didn’t he use any guns? 

Wait, why didn’t he use any weapons at all ? Not once when Hood fought him did Ghost Face use anything other than hand to hand, and usually his goal was escaping, not taking Hood down. The more they met, the more Jason’s pride got damaged. It was getting embarrassing how often he loses his target. Even that night he had chased right after the other, and yet, when he got outside the bar, Ghost Face was nowhere to be found. 

Once again Jason had been so close, only to miss him by a hair. 

It was getting ridiculous. At this point he had to be proactive in his search for the other. If he had to put out a manhunt within his gang and his connections, then so be it. He wanted answers, and he was more than willing to go a bit further to get them.

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Danny nearly cried out as he cleaned his wound. The bullet was easy enough to get out, just go intangible, the problem was the tear. The wound had grown during his escape, and it was a lasting pain on his way home. Luckily, no blood had escaped his clothing, and if it did, not enough. He had to go back after and check, but he was fairly confident he was in the clear. 

His main issue was the stitches. Danny couldn’t move his dominant arm, so he had to use his left. While he usually just used some medical tape and left it overnight to heal, he couldn't do that here. His powers were weaker ever since the portal closed, and being in Gotham where the ambient ectoplasm was corrupted didn’t help him in any way. His healing speed was slower, which meant he had to be careful with the stitches for a few days. 

Ancients, he needed his own portal up and running. Danny grabbed a clean cloth he had on the side before biting down on it and starting his stitches. The bleeding had slowed down to a near stop, thank the ancients for his ghost physiology. 

He yelped into the fabric with the first stitch, it hurt like hell. He changed his mind, curse his ghost body for having too fast of a metabolism for pain meds. This was getting ridiculous. At least normal bullets were easier to deal with than ecto weapons. Their bullets were more like blasts and they always made such large injuries. He had the scars to prove it.

It took him a while to finish the stitches, but once he was done he relaxed against the couch. His whole body was tense with pain, he could go lax now that the worst of it was over. He dropped the scream towel and threw it in the pile along with his shirts that were stained with his blood. He was so thankful it was dark in that room, otherwise Hood would have noticed that his blood had a green shine to it. Well he would have also noticed Danny was bleeding, but that's besides the point. 

He needed to hand wash his clothes now, that included his pants and his shoes now that he got a closer look.  He could do that tomorrow. The Phantom Thief would be out of business for a while, maybe Danny could actually get a start on his projects now that he was forced to. College. He forgot about college. How is he supposed to go through his note intensive classes with a bullet wound next to his shoulder? 

You know what, Danny decided it’d be a problem for future Danny (Not Dan). With that final thought, he fell asleep on his couch, ignorant to the problems he’d have come morning.

Chapter Text

There had been no sighting of Ghost Face for the last three weeks. Jason was almost worried. Almost. He had written a thorough (for once) report for Tim after his last run in, and some things just weren’t clicking. Ghostie was a thief, so why was he in the middle of a trafficking ring? He must have stolen something, but if so, what? The criminals themselves weren’t talking, despite Hood’s Bat approved efforts, so were they missing something? Everything on the gang’s records was still present, so what was it? 

He thought at first that maybe he was here to save them, but Jason didn’t think so the more he thought about it. The victims told him that Ghost Face looked maybe even confused. They said that when he was going through searching for something, he had stopped in their presence, and proceeded to freeze before rushing to set them free. Ghost was definitely there for something else, and just couldn’t stop himself from saving the victims when he saw them. 

Maybe their new rogue wasn’t so bad after all. Jason hoped so, but he didn’t know for whose sake. Anyways, Tim was spying on the rest of the bats for him, turns out Oracle had found nothing apart from the fact that Master’s went missing 7 months ago. It didn’t seem like Ghost Face was searching for the billionaire though. If he were, then he would have hit up Axion Labs ages ago, and more frequently, but it seemed that he hadn’t gone as far as they know. Then again, Axion Labs didn’t have functioning cameras. 

They never knew if Ghost Face had been somewhere unless the cameras went out, which was concerning on its own. Maybe Ghostie had been to Axiom labs 100s of times, and they would have never known. Jason was only now considering himself lucky for coming across him during his patrol. If he hadn’t, then what would happen? 

Jason didn’t like the feeling that there was someone so capable working under their noses. They had only just now discovered any information, and that was purely because of Jason’s luck. Though Tim thought there was something else amiss. Some other reason Ghost Face couldn’t sense him the same way as the others, or maybe he just didn’t leave when it was Jason. He was clueless, and that was the problem. 

Jason prided himself in being the least curious out of his family. They all needed to know everything all the time, Bruce and Tim especially. Bruce was probably losing his hairs in underlying worry over it too. Serves that old man right. Still, Jason’s need to know had reached its peak. He had rarely ever put an actual manhunt on someone, let alone to everyone who he knew owed him something. He had told his members and connections to not come into contact with Phantom Thief when seen, but to report to Hood immediately. 

Every potential sighting of the ghost was time sensitive, and he couldn’t risk losing the man over his gang thinking Hood wanted the thief’s head. Though, since he sent out the hunt, he hasn’t gotten any sightings. If eyes all over Crime Alley didn’t see him, that meant he had truly vanished. That was concerning in its own way. 

Had he died? Gotten injured? Finished his job? Left Gotham? The man was unpredictable. One minute he was breaking into Wayne Industries, one of the most secured labs in the country, and the next he was taking broken toasters from a dumpster outside of Jason’s apartment. They didn’t know what he was after, but they knew it couldn’t be good. 

Ghost Face may have bantered or even flirted with Jason, but Jason was a vigilante first. While he could have probably gotten along with Ghost Face had the man been a vigilante like him, his danger scale was far too high and he was far too suspicious. Tim had reminded him that his communication with the other came second to finding answers, and dammit, Jason was trying. The man was infuriating at best, always omitting his questions and maneuvering his wording around each one. Getting answers was near impossible. 

And trust him, Jason wanted answers from the other more than anyone else in the goddamn City. He had more questions than the big bat himself, and he was determined to get what he wanted. The death thing made this personal, and Jason was always a go big or go home kind of guy. If Ghost Face showed himself again, Jason would be sure to catch him, however unlikely it may be. 

The Red Hood was on a hunt, and a certain ghost was his target.

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Danny should probably get a job soon. This was getting ridiculous. Sam may have given him more than he could count to, but with how many times he’s moved and the rising prices of college, it would never be enough. Luckily, the under the table jobs he did while on the run paid well for their lack of legality, he couldn’t exactly do that in Gotham, a place he planned to live in long term. He needed a job job, a job that wouldn’t get in the way of his studies. 

He could start searching tomorrow, today though he had to put the final touches on his ecto level reader. It had been a little tough to create his own blueprints, and trial and error was annoying, but luckily he had more than enough supplies after 7 months of… collecting. The trial stages were annoying and a bit destructive, but they weren’t so bad. He hadn’t really done any more than researching the first few days, waiting for his chest to heal completely. He once again thanked Tucker for the server. Every Fenton creation in existence was noted down on his laptop, it made the sketching stages all the more easier. 

He closed the latch and screwed it shut, turning over to the front and looking at the screen. The metals were of different colors and textures, but that’s what he gets for using broken kitchen appliances and old car parts. He took a deep breath before turning on the machine, praying to the ancients as the screen lit up. It was all black with bright green, white, and pink inscriptions. The green bars showed the levels, the different shades of pink showed the levels of areas apart from the one he was in, and the white bars were the levels in Amity Park and the Ghost zone. He hadn’t added one more bar yet, that one would be blue, and it’d show the level of him. He had to first connect another machine he made after he put in his data. 

It was going to be a lengthy process, but 3 weeks of investigating, creating, studying, and going to school wasn’t so bad. He wasn’t inventing 24/7, sadly, but 3 weeks is good progress considering he hadn’t made anything until now. Maybe he should have moved to Crime Alley sooner, it would have kickstarted up all his work way sooner.

Danny proceeded to grab a small reader, similar in looks, but this one came attached with an elastic band. Danny slid his arm through and let the make-shift watch sit comfortably on the inside of his wrist. This was a more advanced version of the large reader. It was going to take note of Danny’s levels at all times, and would notify him whenever he got close to the threshold of the surrounding area. If he went above it, the GIW might catch on to his location, and he’d rather not have that happen. 

Now all he had to do was test it. 

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Tucker wanted to scream. He thanked the ancients that Danny had ghostified all of his tech as a parting gift, otherwise finding out everything he did would be impossible. Now, Tucker had known about Danny closing the portals, what he didn’t know is that the GIW no longer held the means to build a new one and were hunting Danny for it. HIs friend had single handedly made himself the only person in existence with the knowledge of how to build the portal, and now everyone was after him because of it. 

Tucker was left in the dark, horribly so, and he wasn’t going to stay in the shadows any longer. He had a best friend to help, after all, whether the other wanted his help or not. He took a sip of his juice before typing away at his laptop. Cameras from all of Gotham were now under his jurisdiction (thank you ghost tech). Tuck set up a system to analyze all footage from the past two years for anything strange or ghostly. While he let that run, he went into the GIW. 

While investigating Danny's parents, the GIW had come up, but was unsuccessful. Now, however, Tucker had a different motive for his research. When they were 17, Danny closed the portals, and Tucker was now beating himself up over the fact that he never investigated how the GIW got their hands on a portal in the first place. 

As it turns out, the GIW had a contract with the Fentons. The Fentons built them another portal, this time with the help of the GIW’s own engineers and scientists- that explains how no one died in its opening this time. The Fentons continued to work with them. That was something none of them were aware of, not even Jazz. In fact, this partnership started when they were 16, this was also when the GIW started becoming an actual problem. 

The sudden competence had made it for any ghosts to come out of the portal, and the increase in injuries from the GIW was a start up for the plan to shut the portals. By the time they were 17, the GIW had managed to even capture some ghosts, making them perform rescue missions. Danny had told them in their hideout that he had to close the portals, for everyone’s safety. It took them a month to figure out how, and unfortunately they couldn’t do it without Danny’s electrokinesis. Tucker had tried at the time to everything he could to avoid the use of that power, after all, it made Danny reenact his death. Danny never said that, never told him that it did, but Tucker has been his friend since forever, Danny didn’t have to tell him, Tucker just knew. 

And that’s what made watching Danny take down the Fenton portal so painful. 

He was getting off track. The point is, the Fenton’s had a partnership, which explained why their skills had upped during their Junior year. Tucker had taken a deep dive in the GIW’s servers, even getting a hold of their security cameras. The cameras were normal, which meant that the GIW couldn’t watch what Danny did, but Tucker could. A silver lining. He watched as Danny broke in when no one was present, and watched him as he screamed and short circuited the portal and shut it off entirely. Then, he destroyed it, blasting it and tearing it apart until it was beyond repair or recognition. He took too long, though, because right after GIW agents entered. 

Tucker watched Danny fight them, getting injured in the process, but winning, and then he saw something new. Danny was overshadowing the agents. Not all of them, but a specific few. Once Danny had left the room, Tucker followed him on the cameras. Danny started to overshadow everyone with a lab coat on them, or anyone with a higher authority than a normal agent. None of them were told about this, about the clean up Danny did, and then Tucker watched as Danny imputed a very familiar hard drive into one of the main computers. It was the kill switch he had given the other for Fenton Tech. It was a last case scenario, in case his parents found out and were too dangerous, leading to that hard drive copying all the information and then destroying it on the servers it was originally from. Danny had not only destroyed the portal, but destroyed any way of rebuilding it- including the memories of the people working on it. 

Now Tucker knew the truth of what Danny did that day. He shakily covered his mouth with his hand. This was getting complicated. The trio had never kept any secrets from each other, seeing one of them die kind of did that, but this? This was next level. Danny was moving without them knowing, endangering himself with no back up. How much had he kept hidden from them? 

And then his computer beeped. The scans of Gotham were done, and with what Tucker just found, he didn’t know if he could handle anymore. Just what had Danny gotten himself into? How much had Tucker missed under the stupid excuse of letting his friend live normally?

He should have known. Danny has the worst luck out of everyone Tucker has come across, of course the halfa couldn’t live a normal life, not ever since he died. 

Tucker nearly sobbed at the familiar silhouette on the screen. He was dressed in all black, but Tucker still knew. He could recognize the way he moved any day.

That was his best friend. 

His best friend was the Phantom Thief.

His best friend was picking up his parent’s research, alone, and on the run. 

And Tucker just couldn’t let that happen.

Chapter Text

Danny sighed as he got changed, his hair still wet from his shower. He had to go job hunting today, a horrible experience, truly. The favors he did for cash around Gotham weren’t long term nor steady, so he had to actually get a job this time. He had written up his resume the day before and printed them out. He had worked his fair share of jobs since freshman year, but he usually didn’t stay for more than a few weeks (at max), ghosts did that to you. 

Walking around Gotham wasn’t something Danny particularly enjoyed. He’d much rather be flying over it. Speaking of flying- Danny could try that now. With his new watch he could see how far his powers could really go. Naturally, without any abilities, he lets off a slight signature. It would be considered large anywhere else, but Gotham has so much death in it, that he’s pretty much in the clear. He hasn’t gone flying outside of his home since he got here at 19, Ancients he missed it. Maybe now he could give it a shot, within reason and while being invisible of course.

Regardless, he had other things to do right now, his choppy job at staying hidden was a worry for another day. For now, he entered the coffee shop he hadn’t visited since it got robbed so long ago. He wondered how that guy was doing, after all, he returned all their stuff and walked out with a brand new purpose in line. Danny walked to the front and asked if there was a manager present. The man at the register nodded before calling out “Trisha!” to tha back of the building. 

A woman about 5’5, with dark brown skin, kinky hair, and round rimmed glasses walked out. Her black hair was tied together into a bun with a headband and her eyes were a dark brown.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

She had on a dark purple lipstick, though Danny assumed that was the only makeup she wore. He coughed before speaking.

“I was wondering if you were hiring? I have an application.”

Ancients, he was horrible at these situations.

“Wait, are you the guy from the robbery a bit ago? The one where you talked about being poor college students?”

“Uh… yeah?”

Trisha hummed before holding out her hand expectantly. Danny stared at it for a solid 5 seconds before his brain caught up and he realized she was asking for his resume. He fumbled into his backpack and opened up a folder before pulling out a paper and handing it over.

“You’ve worked a lot of jobs.”

Danny winced. He hadn’t even put all of them down there, choosing to ignore the less than legal ones he’d done for quick cash, and only putting the skills down that he'd gotten from them.

“I moved a lot when I was 18.”

“Are you going to move anytime soon?”

“Not planning on it, no. I’ve been here since I was 19. Longest stay yet.”

“Hmm”

Danny didn’t know if that was a good sign or not, but regardless there were tons of places in Gotham, and just because he didn’t want to do anything under the table didn’t mean he wasn’t ready to. He was just about ready to head out of there before Trisha spoke up once more. 

“Are you capable of de-escalating robbery situations like that again? I prefer my building not destroyed.”

“I can give it a shot. I’ve been told I had a way with words.”

“Hired.”

Danny blinked once, then twice, before it clicked in his head.

“Oh. Oh! Thank you! When do I start?”

“Come with me to the back and we’ll discuss a schedule and training. This job isn’t easy.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Danny quickly rushed after her, zipping up his backpack on the way.

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Jason punched his wall, his fist breaking through, leaving a hole in its wake. The pit was getting louder and louder by the day. When he had originally came back, it was always in control of him, and once he had gotten out of that muck, his episodes were few and far in between. When they did happen they were long. Now, though? Now, he felt it rising and pushing against the walls of his consciousness stronger than ever before. It seemed that his temper was harder to control, as if he was fighting a losing battle. His ‘episodes’ were shorter, but they were more frequent. It was driving him mad. 

It felt as if anything could set him off at any time. Granted, his self control now was way better than it used to be, but if it wasn’t? Jason didn’t even want to think about what could happen, about who could get hurt. The criminals of crime alley weren’t the only ones who’d take the heat, his family, his friends, Tim . Even thinking about his brother was getting him riled up. 

Tim was visiting more. He was here almost once a week, visiting and working on the case, but apart from that- just being here. Tim was becoming his first call in need. He was the first to find out anything about the Phantom Thief, though the teasing is relentless at times, he was glad for the change. Coming back from the dead changed everything . 

Coming back meant seeing how life had moved on. How the world kept spinning when his own stopped. Gotham remained the same, the stupid fucking clown- stayed the same . Robin existed, but it wasn’t him, Batman existed, but Bruce was different. It felt as if everyone moved on and he was stuck suffocating in his grave, stuck with his anger, his hatred, his need for revenge. It was and still is, horrible. 

He could just feel the pit banging and begging and yelling from just thinking about it. God, this was exhausting. You’d think that dying and coming back meant that he should, I don’t know, get some slack. Coming back to life is no normal feat, barely anyone does it, and yet, he’s stuck with a life even worse than the first one. He was getting depressed, and worked up. He needed to let off some steam, because who knows what’ll happen to him if he doesn’t.

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Tim wasn’t fooling himself, right? Because behind the counter of his favorite coffee shop, was most definitely the guy who stopped a robbery the last time Tim saw him. 100% that had to be him, and Tim was going to at least get his name, he had to state his curiosity.

“Hi, you’re new here.”

“Today’s my first day working, so what can I get you?”

“A black coffee with as many espresso shots as you can manage with 4 pumps of vanilla and 2 pumps of caramel. Quick question, you wouldn’t happen to be the broke college student who stopped the robbery here a while ago, would you?”

“Ah, that would be me, yes- and how’s 8 shots of espresso.”

Tim read the little sticker on the other’s shirt, Danny, it read. 

“Well, thank you Danny, I happened to be in that coffee shop and was having a bad day. Also, 8 is perfect, but are you sure? The legal limit is 5.”

“I feel like you need it, and you’re welcome, getting robbed would have ruined my week for sure, so I get it.”

Is it too early for Tim to tell this stranger that he loves them? 8 shots? Really? Most coffee places won’t go past 3, they don’t want to be liable for the customers when it goes past that amount. He was lucky to find this place, they offer 5 shots. Tim was trying his luck with the new guy, who knew the shot would hit. 

Tim thanked him then put like 30 bucks in the tip jar. It was practically nothing to him and his expenses, so why not? He then walked over to his desk and allowed himself to get some work in, for both of his lives. A company didn’t run itself, especially not Wayne Industries. 

By now, Tim was in a deep dive of looking over the schematics for the latest piece of bat tech. Something wasn’t working for some reason, and it had been driving him and Fox mad. He almost flinched when a person arrived at his side, he hadn’t even noticed them.

“Here’s your death day coffee! I might have to try it for myself.”

It was just Danny. Wow, Tim must have been really distracted if he didn’t notice him. 

“Oh hey, that'll blow up if you make it.”

“Huh?”

Danny was staring intently at Tim’s screen, the schematics for a new defense weapon in the cave was displayed. Bruce had gotten paranoid with the Phantom Thief’s abilities at remaining undetected, who knows if he’ll pop up in the cave sometime soon. It had become Tim’s job to ease that insecurity, making a new system of security measures to top the last one. It had been going well, until he got the blueprints for the new addition of an electric net. 

Danny brought up his hand and pointed at the screen, specifically at where the nets were to be transported from the holding carrier. 

“If you keep it as this material eventually it’ll run out and need repairs. It’s better to make a mix.”

“But that could be unstable.”

“Then just make it right.”

“But that-”

“Will make it so that this machine is self sufficient and won’t need replacements within the next year if used. Also, I’d make the barrel less coiled. The mass you’re propelling through is too large, think more like a bazooka than a gun. Oh, and the ridges need to be dull, not sharp. It’ll tear into the rope regardless of material.”

Tim noted down all that he was hearing on the little notes tab in the corner. Danny almost looked concerned for the design, moving his hand around the screen in accordance with his advice. 

“Lastly, work on the friction. Working with electric materials is dangerous, and if you line the rope with silver it’ll be more effective.”

“We don’t want to kill anyone with it.”

“Then adjust the power. Not that difficult, you know.”

“I- you know what. When does your shift end?”

Tim just made a new friend.

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Danny nearly screamed into his pillow. He couldn’t possibly let this go on any longer. He needed to meet with Hood. The aura of the haunt had become dense as of late, more so than usual. That meant that Red Hood was close to another episode, and Danny was sure he wasn’t making it any better. He had to act now. If it continued to progress like this, then the time that he could last in the area shortened drastically. 

Danny needed to be alive to complete his mission. His priorities had changed drastically since he got here. Originally he was trying to capture ghosts and ensure their return to the ghost zone until he finished dealing with the GIW, but now it was different. Now, he had to focus on the corruption and keeping hidden and finding sources of ectoplasm. Now, he had to choose what items he worked on wisely. Now, he had a time limit, or at least a stronger sense of urgency than before. 

It has been 3 years since he closed the portals, and yet, he still felt like he was fighting every day- every hour- against it. The fatigue, the worry, the juggling three lives and praying they come out okay. He didn’t know how long he could last like this. His body would intake ectoplasm, no matter how clean it was. He missed the pureness of the ghost zone, the shot of clean energy whenever he went through the portal. Gotham wasn’t like that. Gotham had some of the nastiest ecto he’s ever come into contact with, and he knew that it was going to mess with his ghost half. Ectoplasm was half of him, was what he was made of, he recycled it, and used it, and it was his practical being as a ghost. 

He was getting poisoned, and at the source of it was Red Hood himself. If Danny didn’t find a way to fix him, to fix the Red Hood, then he’d have to leave, and Danny knew deep down in his core that he wouldn’t be able to leave the other to suffer. So, if Danny couldn’t leave, then he’d just have to cure him- or buy himself time. 

Thus, leaving his house invisible in full Phantom Thief gear and practically flying towards the alley he knew had no cameras. Seriously, the addition of the watch had sung to him with freedom. Turns out, the power readings of the area were covering him nearly completely, using any of his basic powers did little to change his standing. The corruption completely kept him hidden, like hiding in a swamp rather than a clear lake. The lake is larger, but the swamp is darker. 

Still, he didn’t want to lose his parkour skills. His powers were almost like a safety net if needed. Being in Gotham had given him some new tricks, and he’d be damned if he let them slip away just because he got back his old ones. Wow, Jazz would be so proud right about now. Nope, don’t go down that route. 

Danny jumped across another alleyway. He let his ghost sense take control, guiding him in the direction of the center of the haunt. It was late, so chances are Hood would be out doing his job. It was rather quiet, so hopefully he didn’t interrupt him. Though, Danny knew he was unlucky. 

It didn’t take long to pinpoint and catch up to the other, but as he had predicted, Hood was busy. Sounds of gunshots bounced off the nearby walls and rang in Danny’s ears. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the sound. Ecto weapons didn’t make so much noise, and as the years went on they became practically silent to human ears. 

Another bang sounded out, and Danny couldn’t stop himself from running to the noise. There he was, Red Hood, fighting off 5 men at the same time with far more unconscious bodies surrounding him in the area. Some of the men were fighting each other, as if it was a three-way war. 

Danny waited patiently on the side. Hood had got it covered, and him getting involved would not only distract him, but also possibly mess him up. Danny could feel that Hood wasn’t as emotionally stable as he used to be, bothering him while he’s busy was asking to cause trouble. A few minutes later and the last man dropped to the ground, knocked out and in pain. 

Danny let himself be known, letting his steps make noise from where he was. He didn’t even have time to speak before the sound of a gunshot rang and pain bloomed in his shoulder. It was a rubber bullet, but still hurt. Danny winced before speaking.

“T̷̠́̍h̸̰͝a̸͎͋t̵͓̑͘'̴̮̯́s̸̨͝ ̴̣̜͐ẖ̵͈͛o̸̧̨͑w̴͙̲̔̈́ ̸̘̻̀y̶̨̿̽o̵̬̗͂͒ủ̶̢ ̶̝̆̑͜g̵̰̽r̵̡̓è̶̩̘ȅ̷̪͗t̶̮̝̊̒ ̶̖̀s̶̘͊͂o̵̺̒̀m̸̨̞̏é̴̲̈o̴̡̍̍n̷̙̋e̴̯̋ ̸̳̙͒y̷̧̽̊ǒ̸͍̗͆u̷̖͐ ̴̙͕͒̿h̶͌̓͜a̶̟̋͜v̶̤͍͑é̵̙̠n̵̩͘'̷͘͝ͅt̵͕͋͗ ̸̰͙̐̈s̸͚̖̚e̴̩̞̊̆ě̶̼̌n̷͚̗̽̌ ̵̝̐̓ị̶̒͑n̸̫̩͛ ̸͔̇̑a̶͖̝̅ ̸̘͐̕w̵̳̱͒͒ḥ̸͋͝í̶̲̑l̶̤̰͌͑e̸̙̒̎?̵̢̬̿̅” (that’s how you greet someone you haven’t seen in a while?) 

Red Hood spun his entire body to face Danny, the gun still aimed at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Danny held his hands up in a placating manner, as if he was getting arrested. 

“Ì̶͚͙̭̏̓ ̸̢̥̯̑j̷̬̎̕ủ̵̞s̵̻͓̒͘t̵̞̰̾ ̶͕̬̓w̷̱͌̇ȃ̴͈͚̓͘ͅñ̴̢t̶̹̖̅̆̈́ ̶̡̛͙̼̿t̵̪́o̴̞͑̕ ̵̩̜̭̒ṫ̴̮͐ă̸͙̕ḽ̸͝k̴̘̘̲̊̆.̸̭̏” (I just want to talk.)

The gun lowered.

Chapter Text

Red Hood didn’t know what to expect when Ghost Face showed up, but willingly offering up answers wasn’t his first thought. 

“Ì̶͚͙̭̏̓ ̸̢̥̯̑j̷̬̎̕ủ̵̞s̵̻͓̒͘t̵̞̰̾ ̶͕̬̓w̷̱͌̇ȃ̴͈͚̓͘ͅñ̴̢t̶̹̖̅̆̈́ ̶̡̛͙̼̿t̵̪́o̴̞͑̕ ̵̩̜̭̒ṫ̴̮͐ă̸͙̕ḽ̸͝k̴̘̘̲̊̆.̸̭̏” (I just want to talk.)

“Uh huh, just talk? Not going to punch me and disappear off the side of a building?”

The other was silent, almost moving his arm before putting it back in place. They remained in the air.

“S̸̘̤̀̆o̷̺͌r̷̝̚r̵̨̒̚ỳ̵̺̞̐ ̷̅͛ͅa̷͇͘b̵̠͖͑͂o̸͍͘ṳ̷̖̎̕t̸̖̼̃̐ ̸̦̼̄̈́t̴̞̍h̴͖̞͊a̵̧̙̋̒t̴͈̳̊̌-̶̫͠” (Sorry about that-)

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t want to hear it. How do I know you won’t leave?”

A crackled sigh escaped him. Ghost Face moved his hand slowly behind his back, and brought it back to view. It was a small black box. He then kneeled down, slow as ever, before sliding it across the floor to Red Hood’s feet.

“What’s this?”

“Ṡ̷̙̚ö̸̟́m̵̝̒͝e̵̠̘͆t̴̘̆h̵͔͋͗i̵̙̋n̶̟̲̊g̷̟͑͐ ̴͖̂͒ͅĮ̴̂́ ̴̢̑̚ḇ̵͛̈ǒ̴͙̼r̷̻̄̋r̶̡̄ͅö̴̠̟́͆ẇ̸̹̋e̵͖͑̑d̵͕̓͜ ̷̭̯͌̉f̶̗̐̅r̸̫̣̿ō̶̢̥͛ḿ̷̯̞ ̸͔̎̈́V̵̠̎l̵͚͉͘a̴̬̣̓d̷͔͝ ̵̜̏̕C̴̰̓ò̴̧̠̈.̶̫̼̄̀” (Something I borrowed from Vlad Co.)

“Borrowed? You mean stole?” 

Hood sighed before dropping to his knees and picking up the box. It was sleek, and clean, with no obvious opening. Ghost Face kept his hands up, Hood didn’t know why, his gun was sheathed now. He slid the box into his jacket pocket. It wasn’t particularly large, but it wasn’t too small either. 

“B̵̝̾o̴̧̹͑̈́ŕ̴̛̦r̶̫̰̆o̷̙͂w̵̰͘ė̸̹͍̚d̵͉̤̃̑,̶̝̟̋͝ ̵̮̋s̴͇͝ṫ̸͖̓ô̴̤͊ͅľ̸̳̠͆è̸̦͙͝,̶̐͜ ̴̹̂ͅt̸̛̜́h̶̙͛i̶̼̍̅e̶͓̩͒v̸̰̩͊e̵͚͂͒d̷͉̥̈́̋,̸̊ͅ ̵̬͚̐r̴̯̔́e̵̺̘͂n̸̹̹͋̃t̶̾̍ͅȩ̸͔͒̽d̵̛͈̩́,̶̬̭̔ ̵̻͍̂s̷͚̐a̵͎̻͐m̷̼͔͛ẹ̵̻́̚ ̵̦͋̿͜ẗ̷̞́h̸͔́̂ì̸͉n̶͚̏̉g̵̖̀ ̶̢̺̿͆r̸̛͎̉e̴͇͍̅a̷̘͊̽l̵̟͐͛ḻ̶̭͌͊y̶̌ͅ” (Borrowed, stole, thieved, rented, same thing really) 

“No those are not the same thing- are you serious right now?”

Ghost Face finally lowered his arms, muttering something about them being sore? Hood couldn’t hear too well with the volume and the distortion. He took note to remember as much as he could for the report with Tim later. He activated the voice recorder in his pocket and brought it into his hand. Hood stepped forward, the other stepped back.

“Do you want to talk or not? It’s hard to hear from over here.”

“Ḥ̴͉̉o̷̹̣͂w̸͍͠ ̶͙͆̀ď̴̯̫͠ȯ̷̖̩ ̷̨͒̚I̴̺̦͂̃ ̴̹̄̓k̷̢̗͂̏n̵̺͌͝ő̷̘ͅw̸̥̿ ̵͉̦̈ỷ̵̲̺̆o̷̧̍̚ȕ̷͉ ̶̺̙̈́w̸̺͉͐̾o̴͙͛͠ṅ̸͈'̸̩̀̆t̵̡̠̒͠ ̷̺̔s̷̗͖̃̽ḧ̵̭͘o̴̡͠ò̶̜̕t̴̯̓ ̵̜͕̃m̸̺̋e̸̻̱̓ ̴̯͛͐ă̸̖ġ̶̹̝̃a̵͕͇͒̒i̵̦̜͘ņ̶̮̈́̀?̴͔̐” (How do I know you won’t shoot me again?)

“Are you kidding me? You asked me to talk. You don’t get to complain about what I do,”

“Ÿ̷̝́͝ò̴͎̇u̵̙͗'̶̮̆r̵͕̄́ẹ̸͠ ̸͓͒̀ṱ̶͂̅h̷̢̫̚e̸̦͐̕ ̶̦̟̈o̵͓̹͒̔n̸̰̂̌ė̶̡͚͝ ̷͎́w̵͈͑̆h̵͉͒o̴͍̔ ̷̯̻̓̉w̶̪̕͘ȁ̴̗̞̿n̶̨̤̏t̸̘͎̊s̸̗̑ ̸̢̝͒ä̸̝̒ñ̴̻s̸͇̰̕ẃ̵̝͈̀e̶̖̗̐r̴͇̠̃̓s̴͍̬͐,̶̥̉̀ ̴̓̐͜à̸͓̲r̶̭͆ḙ̷̈́̏ǹ̸͓̿'̵̗͝ṫ̴̯͕ ̵̰͝y̶̻͠ò̵̻͗͜ụ̷͉̒͝?̴͍̰́́” (You’re the one who wants answers, aren’t you?)

Jason sighed before dragging his hand over his helmet. He couldn’t really put his hand through his hair, so next best thing. He made a show of putting both his hands up, before bringing down his right, slowly, and taking one of his guns out of their holster. He then crouched slowly and slid the gun over to Ghost Face. He picked it up and opened the cartridge. 

“R̵̢̹̕͝e̸̼͌̚ä̸͉͛l̸̗̼̔ ̷͎͕̊b̶̗̌ü̶͈̭l̷̩͊l̵̩̍̀è̷̳͝t̵͓̑s̴̯̀͒?̸̯̋͛” (Real bullets?)

Yeah, Jason didn’t know why he did that either.

“If I shoot you, you can shoot me back.” 

Stupid trust things. Though it was only fair, he was given a contingency, so Jason had to return the favor. Ghost Face seemed to take it well enough, nodding before walking forward until he was only a foot away from him. 

“Ŵ̴̹͐e̵̻͋l̶̩̾l̵̦̔ ̶̫̫̈́̈́t̸̨̼̚h̸̟̍ͅe̴̠̎́n̵̰̞̎ ̷̢̂̃Ȋ̵͍̼͋ ̵̯͙̏͊g̵̣͖̿͆u̷͎͓̎̓e̷̳̔̀s̵̬̝͒̆s̷̲̍ ̶̘͐ẅ̸̯́ë̷͍́̌'̴̞̊l̴̺̀ḻ̸̕ ̴͕̘̃̒j̸̠͠ṷ̶̹͒ś̷͓t̵̞̔̒ ̶͎͖̍̀ḧ̷̨͉́a̷̢͈̚v̴̘̱̒ẹ̴̈͝ ̵̛͇t̷̗̐̍o̴̳͐ ̸͓̩̿͝h̴̩̏a̴̙͙̕ṽ̵̽͜ẽ̶̬̂ ̷̅̃͜ä̴̡́̚ ̶͓̲̌̀t̴̥͒̇r̶͇̃͘ú̵͍c̶̯̊e̵̖̤̅̃ ̸̥̮̍̀f̶̼͕̅o̷̫̱͋͝r̶̡̒ ̸̧̛̌t̵͎̆̌h̴̖͠i̶̭̱̿s̴̬̱̋͝ ̸͓͔̂̏m̴̡̩̋̒e̴͖͊e̵̛̱̫͆ṭ̵͙̏i̴̝̓ṅ̶̜̇g̸͖̉̐,̶̹͛ ̴̡̻̅͘h̴͚͛u̶̡̫͋̔h̶̢̼͗ ̶̲̒H̷̞͆͘ö̷̝́̒o̷̤͂͘d̶̰̻̏?̶͇̤́” (Well then I guess we'll just have to have a truce for this meeting, huh Hood?) 

God, what was Jason getting himself into. They stood like that for a few seconds, before Ghost Face whipped around and ran, motioning for Jason to follow him. They ended up on a roof two buildings over. 

“Now, what did you want to say?”

More hesitation before he heard that cryptic voice once more. 

“Ẏ̷̖̜o̴̗͐u̷̞͔̔ ̶͕̍͋c̴̮͑a̵̢̐m̵̹͌̌e̶̜̯͛͆ ̶͙̒̉b̴̻͆͐ͅä̶̯̝́̀c̸͋͜k̵̂̅͜ ̸̤̮͑a̸̺̙̐ ̶̤̻̒͠l̴̻̘̏i̷̦̼͒t̶͈̬͗̈t̸̢́̑ľ̵̨e̵̩̰̒ ̴̮̽d̸̹̑͐i̵̖̭̓f̷̲̐̕f̸̣̪̈́è̸͇̭r̷̟̈̂e̵͎̚n̵̖̉͝t̶̻͘,̷̳͋̄ ̷̮͐͑ͅd̴̝͛͘ͅǐ̷̮̺̈́d̸̠̲̎n̷̝͋͝’̴̙͓̆ṫ̸͖ ̶͍̰͆̄y̸̮̣̅̉o̶̺̫̽̚ǔ̴̢̕?̶͉͌” (You came back a little different, didn’t you?)

He froze- flinched even. All these years and he still couldn’t handle it when someone knew, when someone figured it out. 

“Á̶̖̽n̸̗͗̄g̶̢̍r̵͚̽̌ÿ̶͍́,̵̘͙̈́ ̶͍̚i̴̤̿r̴̠̺̍̕r̷̤͍̈a̵̲͉̕t̷͇̭͒͊î̸̪̻o̶̧̐ṇ̴̆̒a̶̪͆ḻ̸̆̓,̷͍̬̓ ̸̱̹̈́̇ī̴̝̭̋ǹ̵͕̗̌ ̶͖̪͆̈́p̷̗̿͊ḁ̸̽̄i̸̟̊̀n̶̰̦̉͂?̷͉̋ ̴̧̜̈́̅S̵̭̮͘u̷͔̕f̸̮̣͗̄f̶̰͛̉e̷̥̎͠r̷̨͑i̴̦͐̚n̴̫̙̔g̶̭͊?̴̦̀͊ͅ” (Angry, irrational, in pain? Suffering?)

Check, check, check, and double check. Ghost was reading him, seeing him down to his soul and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“F̷̬̀̑ẹ̸̜͒e̵̳͐l̶̩͖̒ĩ̸̬̊n̵̯̓̀ḡ̵̤̺͊ ̶͖̤̅̚ạ̷̬̎̐ş̸̪̓́ ̴͓̩̃i̵̮̯̽f̷̖̈́ ̸͔̅š̷͙͕͝t̴̲͐͐à̶̹͈y̷̲͛̑i̵̮͒̔n̸͈͋̂g̵̼̘̉ ̶̧̬̎́d̴͎̔e̸̡̯̾͝á̷̲d̴̢̫̎ ̴̘̄͝c̵͍̃ǫ̴̔ų̷͇̍́l̵̬̗͝d̷̯̼̄̐ ̶͖͈͝h̴͖̋͝à̷̢v̸̖͂é̷̻̬ ̷̟̾b̴̬̌̆ė̷̪͝e̷͍̒̋͜ñ̶͎̱͋ ̵̫͖͝b̴̨̗̒e̶̡̞̎t̵̠̀͘t̸̖̭̄e̸͓͇̔r̵͔̝͛̽ ̶̧̺͛t̶̲̘̽ḥ̴͒͝ä̵̞́͜ñ̷̯̕ ̴̠̟̔t̷̞͊h̸̲͚̓i̸̩̘̋ș̶̈́?̷̧̽͌ ̵̙̖͝T̷̤̬͝h̷̯̺̀á̵̲̺̚n̵̪̄͠ ̵̦͒t̶̩͇͝h̶̬̚ͅi̴͔̎s̷̬̄ ̴͚̔͘͜ť̴̝͉̃ơ̴̝̈́r̴̡̋t̵͕̹͘ủ̸̢̕r̴͓̀ė̵̹͜͝,̵̮͒̆ ̷̧̝͂̎t̴̟͎̽h̶͔͘ì̴̹ͅs̸͎͒͌ ̸̳͍̑̽l̶͚̻͊̕i̶̛͔̬͑ḟ̸̰̈́ẹ̶̿͌ ̴̺̓͒t̸͉͑̎h̵̰̑̂a̴̛͉͉ṫ̸̞́ ̶̨̧͗̑d̶̙̟̈́o̴̖͗ͅe̴̛̟̐s̵̛̳͎̍n̴̘͂̍’̸̮̄͆t̷̫̐ ̴̗̆ẗ̵̗͙́͘r̷̺̹͗̚ǘ̵͚l̵͇͈̽̅y̴̩̍̚ ̸͖͎͆b̴͓̚͠e̷̲̓̚l̸̝͂́o̶̺͛͂n̷̪͔̉g̵͍̺͗ ̷̙̒t̶̤̀ö̴̟́͝ ̷̘͕̒͝y̷̹̪̓̀o̷̧̖̾̓ǘ̴͖,̴͓̊́ ̵̬̗͝t̸͕͗ö̴͔̩́̈́ ̴̮̊́w̵͎̮͝ḩ̶̝̀ỏ̷̞͝ ̵̤̐̿y̸̤̋ơ̷̘̲̎u̶̡͇̚ ̵̱͎̿ű̶̧̠s̴̤̾͠e̴̡̛͖̎d̵̢͗ ̸̧̬̊̎t̶̟͚͠ȏ̶͕ ̴̡̰̈́̾ḃ̷̦̎e̵̖̩̔ ̸̧͒̍b̴͇̩́̒e̶͖͕̊ḟ̷̣̩ő̴̖͚r̶͓͊ë̷͍-̶͇͉͝͝.̸”  (Feeling as if staying dead could have been better than this? Than this torture, this life that doesn’t truly belong to you, to who you used to be before-)

He paused.

“b̴̛̠͎̻͉̈́é̵̼̗̱͎̔̅͗f̷̼͚͔͖̄̅̓͝ọ̵̣̳͉̄̓̌̒r̴̛̟͋́e̴̞̪͖̙̓̒̈́̈́ ̵̮͌̓͋͆y̶͙̙̓͊o̵̦͕̕͝ͅư̵̮͚ ̸͍̱̋d̴̠̱̅̃̑͠i̸̱̘͉̊̊e̴̩̳͈͒d̸̪̬̔̔̈̕” (before you died.)

The other waited for a response from Jason for a bit, but Jason wasn’t going to give one. His inner turmoils were displayed to their own world on a silver platter, a light shining upon it. If he agreed, or even spoke, would it make it real? True? He didn’t think he was ready for that- for wishing he was dead again only for life to hold onto him stronger than before. 

“T̸̝͝h̷̲͊̍͜ả̷̡̈́t̷͔̲̋ ̵̜́͑c̸͔̉͐ǒ̸̥r̴̨̗̒͂ŕ̸̫̪u̴̹̪̐p̶̺͛t̵̢̳͒͐i̸̛̹ỏ̸̧͍n̸̨͌,̶̰̋̽ ̴̧̝̀Ḭ̷͒̊ ̵̧̈́w̶͉̺̅̈a̴̳̤͂̕ǹ̸͈͆t̵͚̃͛ ̶̨̩̇̇ṭ̷̍o̶̢̐ ̶͉͇̀́h̶̭͖́̎ę̷͖̆l̴̡̉p̵̜̥̀ ̶̻̗̇c̵͈̫̋ũ̷͕͚͝r̵̡̺͝ẹ̴̍ͅ ̵̨̮̑ĩ̵̼̻̈́t̵͈̓̈́.̶͚̿̔” (That corruption, I want to help cure it.)

Cure? No, Jason didn’t want to believe that. He didn’t want to hope. Disappointment doesn’t exist without expectation. There was no fixing him. There was no helping, no remedy to his poisoning. The mere thought of it had him reeling. It couldn’t be that easy. It was never that easy, not for people like him. 

If it was that easy- that simple- then why was he fighting for years? Why was he still fighting? Every breath he took was controlled, was monitored. No, it couldn’t be that easy, he knew, because if it was, then all of his efforts were worthless- useless. He didn’t think he could handle that. 

He had to make sure.

“Cure the- the pits? You mean the pits?”

“T̶͚͑ḧ̶̺̲́̀ẹ̸͂ ̷̠͂t̵̥̬̉͘h̵͖͆i̸͕̗͑͠n̶͔̙͛̏g̵̥̻̈́̚ ̸̡̣̓̑t̷̘̐̑ẖ̷͝å̵̡͓t̶̞̪͐̌ ̷̢̾b̴̌͊ͅr̵̨̰͒̾o̶̩̎̂u̴̡̦̐́g̵͙̒̅h̷͎̪̊t̶̺̿ ̶̼̒͠ͅy̸͉̻̎̀o̶̡̼̎͂ù̵̦ ̷̥̜͘b̵̰̾̓ͅâ̴̪̬c̵̗̏͜͠k̴̯̜̓.̷͈̱̓ ̷̨͛̆S̷̜̄ḩ̵̲̌͒ḯ̴̭͋ń̸̡͔̈́ḭ̷̣͘͝n̸̨̍̒g̷̱̿ ̸̹͘t̸̘͇͠o̵̞͛x̶̹̮̉i̵͇̕c̷̠͒͜ ̶̠̣̀g̷͚̒ř̶̫͎e̷̻̾e̵̗̕n̶̰̓͆͜,̷͓̌́ ̴̪̇k̷͈̊̍i̴̯͓͆n̷̼̚d̶̨̨̿ ̸̡̌o̴͓͗ͅf̴̛̥̔ ̷̳͕̑o̵̮̬͒t̵̟͚̾̓h̸̼͛͛ḙ̴̞̽͠r̷̜͛ ̸̟͆͑ẁ̴͕o̸̞̼͋r̶̘̞̀̂l̷̪͠ͅd̵̖͋̂l̶̲̯̚ý̸͚͍ ̵̩̒̇l̵̼̅̂õ̴͜ǒ̴̧̱̌k̵̭̺̇̎i̷͛̾ͅn̶̙͊ġ̵̺-̵̳̃͋” (The thing that brought you back. Shining toxic green, kind of other worldly looking-)

“Holy shit you mean the lazarus pits, you can cure that? Get rid of the pit madness?”

“I̴͙͘͝f̴̮͎͗ ̸̥̂p̸̭͎̃i̶̟̋̓t̵̜͘ ̵̪̬̒m̵̘͑å̵͈͆d̸̢͔͒n̷͋͜ȩ̶̌s̶̻͙̋͘s̴̠̜̈́̇ ̶̟̑ṟ̴̡̍e̴͙̎f̴̞͍̒̕e̴̩̮̋r̷̍͜ͅs̵̩̈ ̵͉̀̄t̷̡͑̾ò̵͙̍ ̴̭͉͒̂ṡ̵̓ͅy̶͇̎m̵͎̖̓͝p̵̻̊t̴̪͝ǫ̸̈́̿m̴̺̃͊ͅs̵̫͝͠ͅ ̶̮̑ļ̷̱̿̇ị̸̲̀k̵̨̪̑ĕ̴̩͘ ̷̧͑i̷̤͋r̷͓̟̒r̸̫̈́̕å̵̘̂t̷̻̽i̵̱͌̽o̸̯̳̊ń̷̻a̴̼̾̈́l̷͎̲͊i̶̥͒t̴̠̓̋ÿ̵̨̖́,̴̙̰̿ ̶̯̈͜r̵̤̓͛ě̸͜c̴͚͔̾k̵̤̇l̴̞̜̓e̸̦̕ͅs̶̩̩̓̓ś̴͇̫͒n̴͉̍͌ȇ̸̮͙s̷̹̾̈́ŝ̵͙͗,̴̢̼̽ ̵̞̀f̸̫̋ï̶̧t̶͕̓̿s̵͍͓͛̏ ̶̹͐͝ͅo̵̩̐f̷͉̝͂͛ ̴͖̫̄̂r̴̬̍ȁ̸̞͇͛ḡ̷̙̉e̶͎̺̐,̸̨̯͘͘ ̸̳̄n̴͇̩̊ī̴̛̗̖g̴̲̺͘h̷̦̿t̸͚̅͆ṃ̸̀a̶̬̒ȓ̴͇̕e̵̗͐s̷̡̄̈́,̴̱͈̂̚ ̸̩̽p̷͓̆̀ḧ̷͚̣a̶̡̿̀͜n̷̕͜ṱ̵̖͋̕o̸͕̕m̸̲͓̈ ̸͕͘p̶̦̘̉ạ̸̿̾i̵͉͙̽n̴͚͇̆̎s̸̛̝,̶̙̿͠ ̷̧͂ẖ̵̓̈e̸͙̒i̸͇̣̚g̵͔̋͒h̴̠͂͛t̶̤͈̀̾e̶̯̩̕ň̸͖̝̾ę̸̭̂d̴̙̲͆͘ ̴̻͂͝ǹ̷̗̲̈́e̶̤̓͒g̶̡̯̑̑a̴̹̅͝t̴͖̋͜ȋ̸̳̕v̴͍͆ê̵̻͝ ̴̝͙́͝e̸̟̕͝m̷̭̺̈́ò̵̘̝͆ť̸̰ì̴̠o̶̧̗͗͠n̵̫̍ś̵̲̔,̵̮̇͝ ̸̹͎͑a̸̡̛̹͐ǹ̴̨̦̌d̵̥̩̾ ̴̝̘̇́ị̵̽͠ͅn̶͙̜͑ ̵̨̟͠s̴͚̣̾o̶̞͌m̴͓̈́̃ẻ̵͕ ̵̳̮̅͊c̶̤̖͝͝a̴̰̔͜s̴͇̉ͅẹ̶́̈́s̸̲̥͋ ̴̻͚̃̚â̵̯͎̈́ ̸̛͉̻̏f̷̛͎î̴̢͠n̴͚̳͆́a̸̻͍͐l̴̺̯̀͌ ̸̲̖́̚d̴͚͆͘e̴͉̥̎a̵̘̠͆t̴͓̓h̷̻̎,̸̳̠͗͝ ̷͕̟̆̏t̴̘̿̀h̷͙͔͒͗e̶̛͓̩n̶̩̄̐ ̷̤͈͗̚y̵̲̙͋̕ẻ̷̳s̶͚̋́.̸̪̄ ̵̯̌I̵̙̊ ̵̢̃w̴͎̒a̵͕̙͗̍ṋ̴͘͜t̶̲̉̀͜ ̴͇̲́̈́ẗ̴̝͈́o̸̩͒̀ ̸̨̛̱ą̴̭̀̔t̶͖̘̓ ̴̜̈͂l̶͔͉̈́e̸͎͒a̷̮͙͠s̶̩̥̏̂t̵̫̒̓ ̸̥̎̚͜ț̶͒͝r̷͍͛̃ỷ̶̖̙.” (If pit madness refers to symptoms like irrationality, recklessness, fits of rage, nightmares, phantom pains, heightened negative emotions, and in some cases a final death, then yes. I want to at least try.)

“Some cases death? Are you telling me I’m dying again after just coming back?”

The other hesitated before seemingly trying to speak, that was all Jason needed to know. Verbal confirmation or not, he was dying .

“I̵͝͝ͅ'̸̹̲͝m̷̞͐ ̸̧̯͑͂s̸̡͋́o̵̧̹͐̋r̴̬͗ŕ̸͕̔ỳ̴̙͓͠ ̸̫̯͋b̷̧̰͂ǘ̷̥̐t̶͇̑͘-” (I’m sorry but-)

Jason held his hand up, shutting the other’s mouth effectively. He needed a moment to think, to sort through this. He was dying. He was dying from the same very thing that brought him back in the first place. God, what was he going to do? What about everything he’s worked for? His family? He was just getting them back, and now he’d have to force them through the grieving process once more? 

“h̵̦̥̅ô̵̤̓ō̸͈̜d̸̰̘̂̒!̴͈̳͋ ̴͕͎͐R̴̟̟̆ĕ̴̲͜d̸̻̜̐…̷̦̺̍͝.̸͙͠ ̵͉̇R̶̲̈́̀e̴̯̱̓d̵͕̐!̷͙̏” (hood! Red…. Red!)

What about everything he’s built? All that work, that time, that effort, just for him to die? And he wasn’t even going to go out in a heroic way, he was once again going to die a stupid death because of a mistake he made. When will life ever give him the benefit of the doubt? Wasn’t this enough? Dying had been painful, but returning had been far worse, and now, now that he’s finally gotten his feet steady on the ground, it began to crumble underneath him. 

Hadn’t he given enough?

“H̷̠͂͝O̸̡̻͂O̵͙͎͒̓D̷͎͠!̸̢̒” (HOOD!)

Jason snapped out of it, looking at the other. Was he on the ground? When had he sat down? And why was Ghost Face so close? They were mere inches apart, with the other hovering over him with his hand ghosting over Jason’s shoulder- there but not touching. 

“A̶̡̝̋r̴̪̀͠e̷̡̜̔̔ ̶̞̈͐y̸̭͘ȯ̴͜u̸̮̯͒ ̷͔͂o̷̲̦͝ḱ̵͎̤̃ă̵̻͔͝ỷ̶͖̞?̴͍̝͋ ̸͙̲̌̊Ì̷̝̓’̷̤͛m̷̮̹̾̕ ̷͚̩͗̌s̵͈͝o̴̤̐̿r̸͕̋͘r̷̈ͅý̷ͅ-̶͎͖̀̽ ̸̪͆I̵͍̓’̷̠̞̃m̶̹͆̅͜ ̸̘̙̅s̵̗͔͑͐o̶̞̦͑r̶̻͘ṛ̵͑̎y̵̗̖̐̿,̵̜̇ ̵̖̃I̸͔͐͝’̴̹̫̓m̸̭̯̓ ̶̠̆̿s̸͉͗̄o̴̝̻̓ ̴͎̐̀s̴͍̈́̐o̴̰͚̎̄ ̷̘̑̓s̷͔̚͠o̵̭̻̐͆r̶̖̳͆r̵̹͝y̷͔͠” (Are you okay? I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry)

He held up his hand once more, shushing the other again. Okay, thinking had proven to be a bad idea, but how else was he to sort through this? He was dying and this time he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, Bruce wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. 

“You said you want to help, so does that mean there’s a way to cure me?”

“Ẅ̷̙̼́̀ê̶͎͜͝l̴̍ͅl̴͓̿̒ ̷̢̺͗y̷̺̏̔ȇ̶͔̜͒s̸̟̓͑,̶̬̀ ̴̞̞͗̑b̵̲́̌ṵ̶̜̕t̵͔̄ ̷̦̉I̴̢͘’̶̩̒m̴̞̉̊ ̷̗̅̂ǹ̶̖̆o̸̼͌͌ţ̸̅ ̶̛̝̫s̷̘̫̊̕u̴̪͋͘r̵͕̉͜ẹ̵̛̆.̴͔͘͠ ̷̨̏I̵͈̜̽’̶̡̐m̶̢̻͌̕ ̶̯̆n̴̥̥̊̈ó̴̱t̸̗̆ ̸͇̅ȃ̸̡̩͛ ̴͕̤̀̚d̸̗̆̅ö̴̙̺́̉c̵̲͉͛̅t̸̲̱̚o̵̤̜͐͒r̵͇̼͆.̵͖̯̅ ̴̩̂̽I̴̙͆ͅ ̸̙̇k̶̨͍̍ǹ̷̗̏o̷̟͌͐w̶̝̅ͅ ̶͎̥̇ạ̸͆ ̷̪̩̓́g̶͍͠u̸̬͌y̶̤̿͐ ̴̧͌̏ẃ̴̺ȟ̶̪ȏ̸͉̗́ ̴̧͗c̴̯̾͋o̴̞͠u̴͍̗̽̕l̴͚̎͘d̶͚̎͜ ̷̢̢̓h̶͙̓e̸͍̩͝ḷ̵̢̎͒p̵͙̙͗̀ ̶̝̘̋ỵ̸̮̒̐o̶̜̐͑͜u̸͚̜̒,̴̢̠̈͠ ̶͍̀ͅb̴̼̎̒u̷̹̞̔t̴͚̉ͅ ̶̧͇̕ẖ̵̻̇̌e̷̞̓̃’̶̰̜͌s̴̼͑ ̴̛̝̽u̵̺̎n̵͇̆r̵̖̓ě̴̘ą̷̏̓c̴̮̈́̓h̷̗́́ą̸̲͐̍b̶͙̿̀l̸̼̹̚e̵̻͎͋͗ ̸͓̽̌a̴̭̿͂t̴̬̟̄ ̷̙̫̏ṱ̸͋̈́ĥ̸̖̈́e̵͎̺̓ ̸̦̌́m̸̮̅ő̴̺m̵̞͈͗̓e̸͖͓̽͆n̴͓̑͑ẗ̴̪́͜” (Well yes, but I’m not sure. I’m not a doctor. I know a guy who could help you, but he’s unreachable at the moment)

Ghost Face settled himself down right across from Jason, their legs making contact. The vigilante didn’t comment on it. 

“Why is that?”

The other was silent once more.

“Let me guess, can’t tell me?”

“I̵͈͛'̷̝͚͊̚m̴͙̈ ̴͉͂̉r̷̭͌̐e̷̝͋a̸̱͓͗l̷̘͑̓l̵̙̆y̷̺̞̾̒ ̵̊ͅs̵̲͉͛̌ò̷̟̞̂r̷͕͕͐r̶̖̟͐́y̶̹̩̐͂” (I’m really sorry.)

“Yeah, well what can you tell me?”

Jason was getting upset. He finally thought he’d be getting answers but now he’s left with more questions than what he started with. 

“Ț̵͉͗͗h̷͔͋ǎ̶̟t̶̻̻̓̅ ̶͔͝t̶̯̐̅h̶͉́ȉ̸͔̑n̵̜͛͒g̴͇̟͆͝ ̸͖̮̀̑t̶͈͆̕h̶͍̫͌̉á̷̙̽ț̴͎̓ ̴̯͓̉̈b̷̡̰̅̽ŗ̴̳̓̑o̸̧̜̿u̵͔̭̾̚g̷̘̅̔h̵̪̝̎ț̵̥̿ ̵̞͛̈́y̵̠̩̌́o̴͖͂́ṹ̸̢̘ ̵̰͍́b̵̨̂̓a̵̗͂̓c̸̲̊k̶̭̜̍̑?̶̘͓̑ ̸͋͜T̴̛̠̕h̵̜̟̓ä̴̰͚t̶̟̿ ̶͇͍̌̚ȋ̴͚̟š̶̻ ̵͔͗ͅw̶̮̃h̵̖́ạ̷̏t̵͍͐ ̴̬̃w̸͎̩̔e̷̝̱̐͝ ̷̫̞͌͝ċ̶̝͐͜ă̴̪l̴͎̱̆ļ̸̜̽ ̷̖̲́e̵̲͝c̷̙̄t̵͖̂ǫ̵͖̈́̆p̸̄͜l̸̥̿͌a̷̗͐s̴͚̥̈́̏m̷̧̹͘.̸͇̋ ̵̛͖̣̌Î̴̝͓̕t̴̡̓̏ ̷̜͊̏l̸͕͚̊ŏ̶͖̭ö̸̻́̒k̸̘̞͘s̵̙̾̉ ̶̘̓̒k̸̺͛i̷̧͠n̶͔͝d̷̮̮̂̕ ̸̪̈́͛ơ̵͙̇f̸͇͑̀ ̷̦̅l̶̬̜̏͘ì̵̢k̸̠̩̇e̸̡͌ ̷͓̔ẗ̴̰̦́̾ĥ̴͔́i̴͈̘̐s̸̟̻̑” (That thing that brought you back? That is what we call ectoplasm. It looks kind of like this)

Just then, Ghost Face brought his hand behind his back and returned with a thin glass vile. An all too familiar liquid swirled around the glass. The green had a glow to it, a certain ethereal shine. It was different from the lazarus waters, but he knew that it was one in the same. The pits were raging at him. He stumbled away from the vial, skidding backwards until he was a couple feet away. Ghost Face flinched at the action. The lazarus water disappeared soon after, surrounding them in darkness once more.

“S̶̽ͅḩ̸͈̂ĭ̵͙ͅt̴̥̻̔̌-̷̠̞͋̍ ̸̦̾ͅș̸̩́ơ̴̬͚r̶̥̺̆r̸̪͆y̷̨̥̒̿,̸͓̎͌ ̴̭͖͊s̸̢̚̕ô̷̮r̷͇͍̓͋r̷̯̫͗y̶̯̬̏,̷̣̀ ̵͈̀̌Î̶̬̯̊ ̷͙̗͝s̸̫͐͐h̷̢̀ö̸͖́u̴̧̟̓̽ḽ̴͐ḑ̶̤͋ ̴̳͌͋h̸̺̒͝a̵̩̓̒ͅv̷̖̈́͆è̵͕̬̍ ̵͚̖̚k̸̗̱̈́n̵͖̻̈́ǒ̵̞̙̑w̶͔̻̔̈n̴͖̼̈́̈ ̸̢̐͝y̸̫̓o̸͖̽ú̷͎̈́ ̴̳̽́w̴̤̿ǫ̵͎̾ǘ̸̡̈́͜l̴̪̎̚d̵͕̑n̶̗̒͒’̷̨͔̐͛t̵̬̝́͌ ̴̳̓h̵͇̀ä̴̜́v̶̼͕̌̕ê̵͖ ̶̘͍́t̶̨̥̕a̴̘̽̒k̶̰͘ė̴̺̽ņ̸̐̎ ̴̲̈t̷̲̀ȟ̷ͅa̶̲̾͛t̴͕̓̏ ̸̤̒w̴̭̅́͜e̵̹̹̾l̵̠̳͂l̵̰͗̏.̵̘͗ ̶̦͠I̵̯͗͌’̵̦̒̔ͅm̶̧̉ ̵̱̰̄͌s̵̹͖̽̏ȏ̸̜r̶̜͂ȑ̶͕̜y̷̯̕.̶̘̍” (Shit- sorry, sorry, I should have known you wouldn’t have taken that well. I’m sorry.)

He seemed to be doing that a lot today, apologizing. Jason forced himself to calm down, he couldn’t go into a rage now when he was so close to finding out more than ever before. 

“Go on. I’m okay, go on.”

The concern was nice, but some things were more important. Ghost Face seemed to hesitate before continuing, putting the vial away. Jason didn’t know if he wanted to even ask about how the other got it.. 

“W̸̼͛e̶͔͘l̵̤̔̄l̶̡̫̔̈́,̶̩̏̆ ̵̞̬͆̔t̵̫̍h̴̟̟͛̈́e̵̥͔̊ ̵͉̯͌́p̶̡̖̈́̾r̸̹̔o̷̟̅b̴̝͉̋l̸̥̏͊ë̴͕́̈́ṃ̷͆̑ ̸̬̖̈́̔ẅ̷̙́̈́i̴̲͌̋t̶̡͓͗̐h̷͍͝ ̵̬̠̃̀t̸̬́͝h̴̩̦͛͑e̵̻̒ ̷͕̖̓̕s̸͉̦͌ṫ̵̫̱ú̶̧̯̏f̶̘̈́f̷̥͝͝ ̷̩̈ỷ̸̡̝ȯ̸͉͉̔ư̵̼̔ ̴̤̩͋̕g̶͓͘ȍ̷̠t̵̡̬̒̌,̴̰̽ ̶̤͋͠i̵̛͕s̵͓͊͝ ̷͓͋͑t̶̢͘ḧ̴͉̦́ȁ̴͖͝t̶̠̏͊ ̵̬̅͌í̶͚̔ͅť̵̖̰̒’̴̠͐s̸̢̝̚ ̶͒̅͜c̴̢̐o̵̲͂̒ͅr̵̨̩̔̈́r̴͂̐͜ͅu̴͈͍͛̋p̷̺̿t̵͓͌e̷͑͘ͅd̵̤̟̔,̵̘̓͋ ̸̙̾d̸͈̊ỉ̴̼r̶̲̈́t̸̜̓y̷̞͗̾ͅ ̶̗̃̍e̴̝͊̂v̶̯̉e̸̩̪͐n̵̪͆.̷̘̠̄͋ ̷̭̽̒T̵͓̀h̷͖̓͜ã̸͕͠t̷̤̋ ̵̦̇͜ḿ̵̹̺e̵̛̙̝̚a̵̲͛ṅ̵̘̄s̴̟̞̅̽ ̸͙̾̍t̵͕̖̋̋h̷̘͑i̶̳̠̇̂s̵̢͍̅͐ ̶̳̿͝w̴̠̏̈h̶̗͗ö̵͖l̵̠̱͆e̵̗͌ ̵͙͍̋͘h̶͙̦̓a̸̝̪̒͝ư̵̯̹ń̶̳t̶͍͍̀-̷̯̾͆ ̴̦̎s̸̪̙̓͋o̶̅͜r̵̳̺̎̿r̸̲͇̒͠y̷̨̒̀-̸͇͌͛ ̴͉̳͘t̷͉̉̈́e̸̛͇̓r̶̞͆͠ͅr̷͕͓̀í̴̳͚̐ṱ̶̀̾ǫ̴͓͗̑r̶̯̙͂͆ẏ̵̧̟̈́?̴̩͑ ̴͉͕̒́I̷̮͎͐s̴̙̘̀͌ ̷̲̈t̶̬̎́ǒ̴̻͍̔x̵̗̉i̴̢͈̇ç̴̫̾͠ ̵͊ͅt̶͈͌̈́o̵̲͐ ̷̌͜ȇ̷͉̱v̷̗̘͗̄ė̴̢ṙ̵͖͈ÿ̴̦́͠o̴̥̼͝ņ̶̞̽̌e̵̱͕̒ ̸̯͌͝b̸͔̱́͠ü̴ͅt̵̨̹̚ ̴̦̋̿t̶͎̼̏h̷͖̀͛o̵̢̔͊s̷̨̆ḙ̸̮͊ ̸̰̂̅a̵̪̦̅̍l̵͙̅r̸̨̗̓͒ḙ̸͚̓̇a̸̙͌d̴̗̅ͅy̴͇̍ ̸̫̘́͒c̴̜̽o̸̩͉͐̾n̶̖̗̂̕t̶͎͌̒ḁ̶̯̂m̴̭̻̆ḭ̵̮̌̓n̸̻͔̈́ǎ̷͎̜͠t̷̨̠̑e̴͖̲̎ď̸͖̖.̸͚̪͐ ̴̺̥̓T̵̠̒̃h̸̦̔̂ę̴͉̓ ̷̗̖̀̉ȓ̵̲e̵̠̦̅͗ä̷̼̞́ś̵̪̆ó̸̪̎n̶̥͑̽ ̴̻͆w̸͔͂h̷͈̿y̸͔̆ ̸̩̀ţ̴̅h̷̼̍i̵̦̎̈s̵̪̬̒ ̶̞͙͑ì̴̹̊s̶̜̪̚ ̶̙͖́a̵̗͠ ̵͖̬̑́p̸̹̉r̵̮͑ö̶͙̯́̃ḇ̸͌̓ͅl̸̼̐̃ͅe̵͉̗̅̋m̶̬͊̓ ̴̪̑i̷͆͒ͅs̶̱̔̕ ̵͈͎͝ḃ̸̡̉e̷̛̩c̸̹̃ḁ̵̱̑u̴͎̥̕ş̶͋̓ẹ̴́͝ ̸̳̀̒y̸̪̿ȯ̶͈̉u̵̫͊͜ ̵̪̀d̴̼͉̕o̸͔̝̾n̴̛̼̳̏’̶̭̖̃t̴̫̰̃ ̶͚̫̏̾h̵̻͗̑à̷̡̕v̵͉̓̾e̴̩͐ ̴̨͙͌͠ạ̴͐̂n̴̢̛̦y̵̱͓̏̇ ̶̮̿͘ͅc̴͉͇̃l̷̳͓͌e̷̥̦̐̋ạ̶͈͘n̷̰͓͐ ̸̫̈s̵͇͆͐o̵̫͊u̸͇͐r̷̠̈̑c̵̛̰͎e̷̼͒ ̶̣̐o̷̼͒͝f̸̦̀ ̶̱̔͠ë̵̝č̷̫͘t̶͕̿͆ŏ̵͎̏p̶̢͗l̵̯̀̔ā̷̡͕s̴̙̦̾̿m̸̳̅ ̸̠̖̅t̴͍̖͐̕o̷̻̒̚ ̶͓̌m̴̥̈́́͜a̶̝͂̂k̶̠̹̈́è̶̲̪ ̴̬̊̇͜y̷̭̠͛͝o̸̗̱̓̽u̷̢̮̇ ̶̜͊̕s̸̳̦͑ṱ̵̑̍ä̷̳͓b̴̜͈̏l̴̦̿ȇ̷͚͍ ̴̫̜̎́a̷̛͉̖g̴̩̉a̵̝̖̕ī̷̞n̵̰̈́̈.̷̳͖͒ ̸̨̔͝W̸̹̆i̴̹͊ť̵̬͓h̴̻̅̑ ̷̘̯͑t̸͙̯͊h̶̗̋e̶̥̬̒̎ ̵̪̳̎a̶̝̣̿̈m̶̌ͅo̵̟͛̿ù̶̪̥̐n̷̯͋̆t̸̘͚̂̔ ̷̬̝͆̔ő̴̫͌f̵̧̛ ̶̫͇̈́ḑ̵̻͝e̵̫͆ȃ̴̦͂t̶̛̳h̷̞̒ ̵̯͋̆h̵̬̆ě̷͍̭r̸͈̥̎e̷͔̍,̸̧̃ ̸̙͈̆y̷̲̆̋ͅö̸̡͍́u̶̘̪͠’̵̛͎͝l̸͍͎̊l̶̗̄ ̶͍̥͛j̸͙̒ų̴̥̐s̷̢̪̈́t̷̩̟͋ ̵͈̭͆k̵̰̠̂e̵͍̩̿ẻ̵̢̜̿ṕ̵̨̀ͅ ̵̰̔͠ǵ̷̤̲͑e̴̘͛̏t̷̹͛t̸̬̾̊i̷͍̜̎ń̵̗ǵ̵̜ ̵̲̼̀ẘ̵̘̞o̴̘͍͛̎ȑ̵̬͓͗s̶̟̿́e̸̥͖̐ ̸̗͍͑̈ḁ̵̽͛n̶̳̓d̴̟̀̑ ̶͔͛͝w̷̯͗͐o̵͛ͅr̷̼̫̈s̷̞̋è̷̟.̶̲̤̎ ̵̝͑̈́Ę̷̂v̴̞̼̓e̷̙̳͆̐ǹ̶̼̯t̴͕̏͂u̷͎͔̇͠a̴̼̰͒͂l̴̨̯͘l̸͔͌y̷͓̍͝ ̵̙̺͛̚ȋ̷͇͠t̴̤̂’̴̢̣̋̕l̷̰͌l̵͔̟̊ ̷͕͛̿m̵͉̀ͅȃ̶̦ͅk̸̗̈́̈́e̴̛̙͋ ̵̱͛̒ÿ̸̘́̓o̷͓͌͆ų̸͈̂̚ ̷̩͒ṕ̸͕̍h̶̢̯̐̚y̵̢͛s̸͎̪̿͠i̴͖͂͆c̷̭̅a̵̘̙͐̾l̷̙͊l̸͔̈y̷͍͛͠ ̵̹̽̔ṩ̴ĭ̵͖̰c̸̢͕̏k̶͉̤͌-̶̜̜̃ ̸̝͌̒n̷̤̘̈́̒õ̴̥̕ţ̶̻̀̇ ̸̨͚̋j̴͚̈́̃u̴͙̾s̵̤͗ͅt̷̢͗ ̷̟̜̑͗ẗ̴́͜͠h̸̜̽͠e̸̖͋̉ ̵̜̀̚p̷͙̋h̷̫̰̆̅ḁ̷̥̇n̵̮͗̐ẗ̵̘́͌ọ̸͕͌͑m̶̳̮͛̓ ̵̗̐͒p̴̡͇̊ȧ̵͍i̴̪͎͌ň̷̓͜s̴̘̓ ̴̙͈̾͑o̵̮̗͝f̶̘͌ ̶̢͈̍̚ẙ̵̤̮͂o̵̹̩̔̾u̵͎̽̀r̴̺͍͑ ̴̩̔́d̶͙̽ë̶̝̝́̈́ä̶͍̏t̵̻̗̄ḥ̸͈̚.̶̰̓” (Well, the problem with the stuff you got is that it’s corrupted, dirty even. That means this whole haunt- sorry- territory? Is toxic to everyone but those already contaminated. The reason why this is a problem is because you don’t have any clean source of ectoplasm to make you stable again. With the amount of death here, you’ll just keep getting worse and worse. Eventually it’ll make you physically sick- not just the phantom pains of your death.)

God, Tim was going to have a field day with this information. Jason tried to memorize everything that came out of the other’s mouth- ignoring the parts that referenced his death. He didn’t think he could give Tim the recording without cutting it up, so it was practically useless now. His brother was too smart for anyone’s good really. 

“Y̶̯͋ó̸̝û̸̞̏ ̴͉̽m̵̞̰͂i̶̪͋g̵̢̈̌ḧ̶̼́t̵̙̼͒̅ ̷̝͗̂ĕ̶͈ͅv̴̡̜́ê̸̻͍n̸̺͉̍ ̵̮̮̈́͘r̵̩̱̓̋e̸̙̓͆-̷̢̲̀͌ḛ̴͑̒ẍ̶̹́p̴̈́ͅe̸̥͠r̴̻̎i̷̱͆e̶̤͠n̷͇̮̏c̸̤̗̆́ë̶̫́͌ ̷̯͑͑y̴̧͓̆͝o̷̡̯͆ù̵̳͙ŗ̴͉̈ ̷̹͂d̶͉̚e̴̖̅ã̵̯̙̆t̴̤̱̊h̴͎̤͆-̵͕̝͛ ̵̱̉w̸̗̏͗h̸̟́̇ì̴͕̐ͅc̶̡͖̑h̶̢̭͠ ̸̻̖́̌i̴̡͈͑ş̴̕ ̷̫͌̊p̵̟̂̍r̵̞̈́ȯ̴̯b̸̮͌ạ̵̛͉b̵̗͗͑l̵̞̮̈́y̷̡̿ ̷͉̂̄t̸̮̰́̈́h̶͈̄̽ȅ̸͍ ̴̹́̆w̶̧̪͊o̸̙̿̐ȑ̶̨͚̄s̵̯̖̕ṭ̷̌ ̴̬͔̚p̶̱̳̀a̵̝̹̒ŗ̵̜́͒t̷̢͌͝ ̸͚̅ā̴͍̯̀b̴̥̈́ő̴͇͠u̶̮͋t̵̩̋ ̵̥͋̑t̶̜̋́͜h̴͇̔i̷̯͌̆s̵͎̆͌.̷̙̓ ̶̡͎̐́I̵̥͗ ̸̫̈w̸̖͕̄a̴͉͚̍n̷̦͑t̵͖͆ ̷́̀ͅt̷̠̖̐o̸̱̐ ̴̯̝͌́h̴̯̚e̴͚͔̐ĺ̸̟̈́p̴͎̍ ̶͓̒y̸̯̾ò̸̢̜u̷̼̎̍ ̷̭͙͊ḇ̸̒̏è̸̝ͅf̴̞̻̈́o̴̱͈̚r̸̛̞̝̊e̶̖͛ ̵̲̏͠ỷ̷͉͘o̸̹̲͆͑ǔ̴̪ ̴͉̦̚g̴̥̱̈̐o̷̪͂͌ ̷͕̞̋b̷͍͑͜ȅ̵̠̗̃r̶̢̪̈́s̶͙̝͒e̷̺̓͒r̷̩̾͂k̷̡̖͐͘,̶̟͊̐ ̴̠̄̔b̵̜̰͐̋e̷̢̱̿f̵̨̪͋̍ö̴͕́͠r̴̮̯̀e̸͇͝ ̴̱͎̏y̶̛̜̎ŏ̸͚̯̓u̸͎̒’̸̲̔r̵̨̆e̵̺̅ ̷͓̓̕s̴̞̕t̴̫̑ų̷̏c̷̝̕ḱ̷̝̿ ̵͖̅̅i̵͇̽̽n̸̻͐́ ̸͕̻̋͐ȃ̶̡̡̚ ̸̣̍͝r̵̻̲͛̇a̸͔̓g̶͈̏̕ȅ̶̢̇ ̴̝͑ÿ̴͔́o̸̳̹̾͐u̵͖͐ ̶̘̂̎c̴̗̅å̴̘n̵̛͉̟̕’̷̭̉t̸͈̳̎ ̵͉͉͌͋e̴̝̒̈́͜s̷̩̓ĉ̸̩̦ả̷̯p̴̡͔̔è̵͔̚ ̷̯̹̒ọ̶̦͆͆r̴͙̈́͋ ̵̩̗̏ě̴̛̠v̶̛̱̚e̵̤̝͆͂n̷͙̽ ̴̓̏ͅr̶̜̐̇e̷̢̼͋m̸̱͓͐͌e̵͈̘̊m̶̙̝͆̿b̵͍̞̃ḙ̸̊͠ř̴̘̤͋.̵̀ͅ” (You might even re-experience your death- which is probably the worst part about this. I want to help you before you go berserk, before you’re stuck in a rage you can’t escape or even remember.) 

Huh, well isn't that a thought. All that work, all that effort, in making sure he’d had at least some control over his body, only to find out that it was inevitable he lost himself to it. 

“So what do I do? Do you even have any ways of fixing me? Huh?”

“Ṋ̴͛͝ọ̷̙̅͝ṭ̸̑ ̸̠̎͂f̶̖̾̋ḯ̸͖̘ẍ̶͜͠i̵̹̝̎͆n̶̥͙͌͘g̵̩̈́̓.̶̟̓̑ ̴̛͓Ỹ̶̝ő̵̯̦̉u̸̮̍ ̶͚̗̇̀ả̴̝̰r̵͈͚͘e̴̛̩̗̍n̸͉͌’̶͕̫̀t̸̢͠ ̸̱̤̓b̷͚̏r̵͇̅o̵̥͔͑̌k̶̝̾ẽ̸̗̏ͅn̵̬͓̋͘,̶̪̉̈ ̴̗͋H̷̛̤͖ö̶̡̘́̚o̵͗̿ͅd̸̮̭͊͑,̵͖͛ ̶̝̮̋͗j̴̢̫̓u̵̢̦̕s̵̭̑t̴̩̃̓ ̵̜̓s̶̯̈́́i̷̤͘c̴͉̙̓̇k̷͓̋.̷̘͝” (Not fixing. You aren’t broken, Hood, just sick.) 

A pause. ‘You aren’t broken, Hood, just sick’ Those words rang in his head. They strung true. They hit him in the deepest and darkest parts of his mind. Ghost didn’t think he was damaged. Ghost didn’t think he was broken beyond repair. Sick- he called him sick- someone ill who needs help- not something that is worthless or unable to ever be restored. 

“I̴̹̍͝ ̸̹̪͠d̶̹̱̄͠ơ̸̘̏ń̸̠’̴̘͗t̴̹̘͘ ̵̝̎͐ͅȟ̵͇̀a̶͔̐v̸͖͎̀e̷̪͑͝ ̸͓̳͂a̸̡͉̽ ̴͕́̾c̷̙̽̊ṵ̷͌r̶̬̓͗ě̸͈̜,̵̨̱͂͝ ̵̭͍̀̋b̷͖̙̾́ṳ̴̻͗t̴̰͛ ̶̘̋͝Į̴͗̌ ̶̖̓h̴̯̎̕ạ̴̡͗v̵͔͆̾ê̸͚͈ ̷͉͉͒s̷̳̳̃o̶͛̀͜m̶̟̞̉̿ḙ̷̑̚ͅ ̸̩͍̀̑b̷͕̳̑a̸͍͉̎͐s̷̳̮̎̈î̸̱̪c̸͔̣̅͘ ̷̳̤͋k̸̟̤̾n̸͔̙͑̍o̸͚̓w̶͓̲͆̿l̴̡̓̐e̴͔̊͒d̴̜͔̐g̴̢̜̓͛ę̶̮̏ ̵͉͕͝o̵͙̎ͅń̸̪̞̽ ̸̠͊ẖ̵͂o̸̜̎w̶̙̌̎ ̷̜̝̐t̴̪̊o̷̪̅ ̶̘̇h̴̄͐ͅe̶̩̓l̷̮͊p̸̹̥̈́ ̸̽̈ͅͅy̶͖̙̒͝ö̸̺̝́u̴̯̾͠,̷̯͇̊͊ ̵̢͘ͅĩ̵̠̕f̴̼́́…̷̧̀͌ ̴̡̛͗i̸̗̊f̵̼̑ ̵̱̀y̴͒͜o̵̟̜̾u̷̙̰͘’̶̥̥̓̔l̸͉̦͊̆l̸͖̟̔ ̸̲̣̕l̶̜͋ḛ̶̀̈́ṯ̷̑ ̸̞̓͝m̴̺͔̍e̵̱͙͑,̷̳̓̕ ̸̧́ẗ̵̝h̷̟͍͂̈á̷̦̥̎t̷̺͔̋ ̴̼͠ĭ̷̞̩s̶̫̅͘.” (I don’t have a cure, but I have some basic knowledge on how to help you, if… if you’ll let me, that is.) 

Jason didn’t know if he could refuse even if he tried.

“Yeah… yeah let’s do that.” 

God, what was Jason getting himself into? This is the guy he’s been trying to arrest and interrogate the last couple of weeks, his family have been trying for months. Was he about to make a deal with a criminal? What was Jason saying, at least Ghost Face hasn’t murdered anyone to their knowledge. Jason really couldn’t be talking. Sure, he reformed, but he was 10 times worse than the other. To hell with it, enemies or not, this was good for him. The real question was why was Ghostie helping him?

“What do you get out of this?” 

For some reason, Jason could just feel the other smiling. If the tilt in Ghost’s head was any indicator. 

“I̶̤͎͛̅ ̶͎͍̀̇ẁ̸̳͙̒ô̴̘̩̋n̵̮͐d̶̡͈̊̽e̷̙̼̐r̷͓͔̓̒.̷̥͒” (I wonder.)

Ghost Face had rearranged himself to a crouch, and Jason knew the other was about to bolt. 

“I̶̧̓’̸͕́ḿ̷͖͛ ̷̺̃̀ͅk̴̢̟͒͒e̸̦͗̐ë̸͓̰́p̸̢̙̎͝ḭ̸͋n̷͉̐g̵̛̤̮̅ ̵͈̗̓t̶̜͠h̸̳̍i̷̼͓̊̎ş̵̫͊̎,̵̙̠̊ ̴̹͗͘b̶̨̲͋͌ỵ̵͌ ̷̹̏͑ṭ̷̆͒͜h̸̡͓̊e̷̡̠͒̚ ̸̩̍̐ẇ̷̳̙a̸̠̹̍̚ÿ̶̜̳́̓,̵̰͛̃ ̷̗̒̃ͅò̷̝͇h̷̭͋,̴̗̬̍̂ ̸̥͑̅å̶̗̠̿n̸͉͠d̶͖͗ ̷̡̈̑ť̷̻̔ḩ̶̅̉a̷̟͗͑n̴͚̂k̴̗̳̐s̴̮̎ ̶͇͖͗͂f̷͇̉ỏ̵̝̣̅ȑ̴̘͜ ̵̡̦̅ȓ̷̝̭̓e̶̙͋̎t̴͓̑u̴̙̐̓r̴̙̎n̷̛̼͛i̶̺͌͝ͅn̶̥͛̇g̶̘̽ ̴͇̱̽̃t̴̡͔͊̊h̵͘ͅe̵̱͐̀ ̷̨̃b̸̘͗o̵̼͂x̸̛̙͝!̸̞̒͝” (I’m keeping this, by the way. Oh, and thanks for returning the box!)

 
Ghost Face held up his two hands, one held Jason’s gun, the other- the strange box. When did he even manage to get that from him? 

And just like that Ghost Face was off, leaving Hood behind. Funnily enough, the vigilante didn’t have the heart to chase him.

Chapter Text

Danny was exhausted. Talking with Red Hood had been draining, more so than it should be. It felt like his energy was being sucked out of him the longer he was with him, only worsening when he was really close or in contact with him. Danny didn’t know what it was, but he hoped he was just tired. Any more issues and he’d actually scream. 

He had work the next morning and was working a long shift. He had been stupid and took it on knowing he needed as much cash as possible- plus maybe the coffee could wake him up? He hoped- prayed even- that it did. 

And just like that, he placed the gun on the floor next to his bed and promptly collapsed on the mattress, effectively passing out. 

.

.

.

“Tim!” 

Tim rubbed his eyes as he held the phone up to his ear. It was 4 am and Jason was calling him. Now, any normal person would be asleep at this time, but Tim wasn't a normal person. No, he just had to be working on yet another case right now. Scarecrow had escaped Arkham and has been quiet ever since. If Bruce dealt with any more unknowns with rogues, Tim was sure the man would pop, thus leaving Tim to find their runaway. 

“Jason? It’s 4 am. What happened?”

“When is the soonest time you can come over?”

“Depends on the level of neces-”

“I just met with Ghost Face-”

“It’s Phantom Thief”

“Dammit- not now Replacement.”

Tim sighed. He was tired and overworked- not pissing off the brother who would shoot him when pissed wasn’t on the top of his mind right now.

“He knows more about the pits than we thought. Can you come over today or not?” 

“Fine, fine. Fuckin- I’m coming.”

Tim abruptly hung up the phone and packed up his laptop and the surrounding papers. He still had work to do, and maybe if he was lucky Jason would let him stay longer to finish it. Just as he had finished packing everything in his backpack and got up, Batman had entered the cave from the batmobile.

“Where are you going?”

Ugh. Tim nearly banged his head against the wall. Of course Bruce had to see him. 

“I found a lead on Scarecrow so I’m checking it out.”

“Alone?”

“No, Jason will be coming with me.”

“Jason?”

Tim nearly banged his head once more. Bruce and his inability to take a fucking hint. He knew that Bruce was going to get suspicious if he let this drag on longer. Tim took pride in the fact that he was the only one in the family capable of lying to Bruce, not that anyone else knew that.

“The lead is in Crime Alley. I told him he could either come with me and watch what I’m doing, or have you snooping in with me without him. You could guess what he chose.”

“Hm.”

And there Bruce went with the nonverbal responses. That meant ‘Understood.’ This meant Tim was in the clear now. Though, he’d have to hack the trackers in his suit. He walked past the bat and went to the changing rooms, changing quickly and removing them from his suit- even the hidden ones Bruce placed thinking Tim wouldn’t notice (he always did). 

“If I’m not back in 2 hours, assume that Jason had enough and put a bullet in my head.” 

Tim joked before sitting down on his bike and putting on his helmet. He was only kidding, but his tone of voice was as serious as ever. Before Bruce could say anything, Tim had zoomed off in the direction of Jason’s apartment. The other one, since the last one had been compromised by a certain dumpster diving ghost. 

The trackers sat heavy in his pockets, he’d have to stop somewhere before his destination to connect them to his laptop and reprogram them. Red Robin was going to be taking a few detours around Crime Alley, while Tim would be sitting on the living room floor of his brother’s 2nd favorite apartment. 

.

.

.

“What took you so long?”

“Bruce saw me leaving, had to get out of it.”

“Did he realize?”

“I told him you were helping me find a lead for Scarecrow. Luckily, there have been signs of movement in Crime Alley, so I’ll check it out before returning. If I come back with nothing he’ll be suspicious.” 

“Okay- okay”

Tim surveyed the room. Jason was a mess. There were papers scattered all over the floor, the lack of a coffee table must have had a part in that. There wasn’t even a sofa, just a love seat and a couple foldable chairs. Tim could actually sit down this time- though for some reason he’d rather the floor. 

Tim situated himself on the ground and unpacked his bag. He opened his laptop in front of him and accessed a specific server for this case. He had two- one for the rest of the batclan, and one for just him and Jason. He had to be extra careful because of that fact. He was honestly proud of the organization of it. It was even color coded. 

Facts were in green, suspicions in red, and information that wasn’t proven were in purple. Like the fact that Ghost Face was a meta was in red, but the fact that he had a relationship with the pits a little different from Jason was in green. Most of the things learned from conversation were in purple. Without evidence they were just hints or guides, untrustworthy but valued. This was going to be another one of those add ons. 

“Lay it on me, what happened?”

Jason seemed to hesitate, strange since he was in such a rush to bring Tim over. 

“He came to me first. I was dealing with a small gang fight, nothing too big. Just as I was wrapping it up he came to view, I shot first, hitting him in the shoulder-”

“What’s with you and shoulders?”

“God, why is everyone asking me that?”

“It’s just that everytime you talk about fighting with him you shoot him in the shoulder- I just gotta know-”

“Can I finish my goddamn story, Tim? Jesus Christ-”

“You’re an atheist.”

“Tim. I won’t hesitate to shoot your brains out.”

“Your gun’s in the other room-”

“ Tim. ”

“Got it. Shutting up now. Please, do continue.”

“Well he said he wanted to talk. We went over to another location before he started. Tim, he knows I died, he knows I was brought back wrong.”

“Well we already knew he knew you were dead- remember the whole ‘touched by death’ thing-”

“But this was different. This time he said it straight up, like it was a known fact, like I couldn’t hide it. It was like he was seeing through me, Tim.”

Tim remained silent. His brother was being vulnerable, something he has never seen. He wouldn’t stop him now. The pits were a touchy subject to everyone in the family, but especially Jason. He made sure his typing was absolutely silent, keeping his eyes on Jason the whole time. 

“He started listing all the side effects of the pit like he had it on paper. The rage, the irrationality, the nightmares- he even mentioned the phantom pains from my death.”

Tim didn’t know about those. Jason was spacing out, his eyes unfocused. 

“Then he- he brought out a vial of pit water. The lazarus pits were in his hands, in a fucking glass tube. He called it ectoplasm, and was even confused when I referred to them as the lazarus pits. He said that the stuff that brought me back was corrupted, and not pure like what he had with him. The thing in that vial was so similar- familiar even, but different. The pits knew it was like it, but it wasn’t. It looked slightly different. It was still a bright neon green, but the shine wasn’t dull or dark or anything such. It didn’t bubble or boil, and it had this ethereal feel to it. The pits reek of death and despair- but this? This had no smell, no feel, no aura. It just was. ”

Tim noted down the differences, he’d have to research ectoplasm later on. Another project added to the pile. If this substance was capable of bringing people back to life, but correctly, like it was implied, then he needed to know as much as possible. Something like that was dangerous and easily abused. 

“I didn’t get to see it for long, a minute at most, he put it away quickly. Then he told me that he wanted to help me, to cure me. That the corrupted stuff was what was-”

He paused.

“giving me all of these symptoms.”

Tim had a feeling that Jason had more to say on that, but he let it slide. Jason didn’t trust them, let alone Tim, so anything was what he could get. It didn’t stop him from worrying and putting that gut feeling in the back of his mind, however. He just knew that his brother was going to say something else, he just hoped it wasn’t too concerning. 

“He said he could help me, Tim, get rid of the pit madness.”

The typing stopped. Jason looked up, locking eyes with Tim. 

“He can… cure it?”

Now Tim understood why this was an emergency. This was big- major, even. Curing the pit madness? 

“He said he knows a guy who could, but he’s unreachable at the moment. He also said that while he doesn't know as much as him, he knows a bit. He said he wants to try helping me, curing me .”

Tim waited with bated breath for his next words.

“And I said yes.” 

“Jason-”

“I know. I know it’s stupid to hope, or believe him, or whatever because he could very well be just manipulating me into this, but this is a chance. A chance I haven’t had. No one knows anything further about the pits, not even Ras. Even if it doesn’t work out, I’m one step closer. The shit he had with him, Tim? It was legit, it was real . I could feel it. That was what the pits were supposed to be.”

Tim didn’t even know what to say. This- this was not something he was equipped to handle. There was far too little information to even think of agreeing, but this was Jason. This was Jason who was head strong, and reckless, and stubborn, and incapable of losing. This was Jason who would run straight into open fire just because he knew he could manage to take at least one guy down. This was Jason, who fought himself daily, hourly , to have some semblance of control of himself- who’s come so far since returning. 

Tim saw it. He saw his brother’s efforts. He saw the way Jason would leave them if he felt even a bit of anger. He saw how Jason stayed away from him, gave him space, never interacted first unless need be. He saw how much he’s changed, how much effort he’s put in. Tim wouldn’t be the one to take that all away from him.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“We’re finding out more from a 20 minute conversation with Phantom Thief than we have in the last few years. I just don’t want you going in with expectations only to end up hurt.”

God, he was being unnaturally sweet. When was the last time he spoke to anyone with clear worry? Scratch that, just his family. Wow, they all needed serious help (Bruce more so than others). It seemed Jason was also uncomfortable with the blatant show of care. Yeah, Tim didn’t know where he was going with that. 

“Right… well- he left soon after. Even stole my gun the fucking prick.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“Oh- right, there was that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The black box. Said he took- sorry- ‘borrowed’ it from Vlad Co.”

“But each sighting he didn’t have anything on him. The first time he was empty handed, the other he had the case. Were they in the case?”

“I don’t think so. He said he couldn’t get it open, and if he had, why would he hand something like that over to me, even if he stole it back after.”

“Wait, he handed it to you, then took it back?”

“A contingency so that he wouldn’t leave. He stole it from me and took my gun before leaving.”

“He pulled a Selina on you?”

“Don’t say a thing.”

“First it was the flirting, then the suspicious positions-”

“We were fighting!”

“And now this? What’s with our family and their taste in women- well- men, in your case”

“Tim-”

“And was it really necessary to pin him down like that? I saw the footage-” 

Wait. 

“Hello? Replacement what’s up? Spit it out.”

“I saw the footage… he doesn’t always mess with recording devices. That means he acts without us knowing-”

Tim grabbed his laptop which was starting to slide off his legs. He quickly opened up the Gotham street cameras and added on their checker. He instantly did a search for any suspicious activity with a Ghost Face mask in frame. He let it run.

“He’s hiding in plain sight half the time. Who knows how many crimes he’s committed with us unaware. The only way we have been telling whether or not it was him is if the cameras go out. Maybe that box was from another heist, or even one we were aware of.”

Tim set the computer down on the floor 

“So now what?”

“Now we wait.”

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.

.

8 hours. Danny slept for 8 hours. 8 fucking hours. Something was seriously wrong. 

Chapter Text

Danny was just about ready to cry. He hadn’t planned on seeing Hood so soon. Originally he was going to wait a week or at least 3 or 4 days, but it’s barely been 24 hours and here he was. 

Hood was surrounded once again, but this time he wasn’t winning. The numbers were greater and his opponents were reckless, damn near unfearing death or injury. Something was strange. Danny couldn’t just not help! He started to form a bond with Hood, something he’d never admit. Plus, he knew how to fight well enough without the ghost powers, he had trained in a bunch of places after all. His assistance would be helpful, especially if the blood he smelled was coming from Hood. 

So without another thought, Danny jumped into the fray, letting out his aura and knocking out a man swinging at the vigilante’s head with a crowbar. Hood swung at him, but Danny caught his fist.

“H̸̖͂e̸̊̇ͅr̶͇̞͊e̸͑̅ͅ ̵̤̻̓̚t̴̠̭̔̈́o̷̺̾͠ ̵̖́h̵͇͇͝e̴̝͔̅͠l̷̤̽p̸̟͆̅.̶͈͑” (Here to help.)

Hood nodded and seemingly went back to work. Danny didn’t hesitate any further. Did he cheat and use a bit of ghost strength? Yes. Was he going to tell anyone? No. Plus, they deserved it, and they didn’t seem in their right minds. Their eyes were unfocused and dilated, and were some of them screaming? One or two, okay, but 20 men? There was no way that was right. Hood voiced their thoughts.

“They’ve been drugged.”

He dodged another random weapon flying towards his face. Danny front kicked the guy with a bat and ducked before another- was that a tire iron? Hit him in the face. It was like they were never ending, he and Hood were slowly picking them off but there’s so much one can do. The screeches were becoming tortuous to Danny’s sensitive ears. 

‘Thank the Ancients for ghost flexibility’ Danny chanted as he dropped to the ground and flipped his body over, kicking the man in the chin. He landed on his feet and then grabbed him by his neck before bringing him close, jumping, and kneeing him in the same spot. Ghost physiology allowed a lot these days. One more down, like six to go. Hood was taking care of his fare share. 

Danny had been pushed back a bit when it became two on one, opting for dodging and redirecting rather than risky attacks. At some point he bumped into another, the two had ended up back to back, the contact making Danny flinch. Hood didn’t seem as bothered, however, opting to even staying a bit closer and swapping opponents with Danny. The halfa didn’t let this deter him, going after the singular man who was larger than the rest in comparison to two on one. Hood was more well versed in group fights, Danny was used to overpowered opponents. 

He palmed the guy in the nose, hard, making it break. The other didn’t even flinch, just continued fighting. This one’s eyes were worse off than the others. He was twitching, his eyes bloodshot read and unsteady. The dose must have been higher for him, but what was it? What caused this? These men were just swinging blindly, attacking without care. They were reckless. Danny had to knock each one out to get them to stay down, otherwise they’d keep fighting. At least pain would get some sort of reaction out of them, but this one wasn’t even blinking at the broken nose. Another thing, he wasn’t screaming like the rest. 

After he had managed to uppercut the guy and roundhouse kick him in the face with a little more ghost strength than he usually used, the man collapsed. He was knocked out cold. Danny allowed himself to catch his breath, surveying the area. His own aura was sharp. Danny let himself feel his surroundings- fear. Pure, and horrifying fear. These men were terrified, but of what? What was going on?

A thud notified him that Hood had finished the rest off. Danny sighed and dropped down to the floor sitting. His stamina was extremely low, strange considering it was usually way higher than any average human. Why was he so exhausted? Gotham had taken a toll on him, Crime Alley specifically, but it shouldn’t be this bad for at least another two months. Danny felt like a dead man walking (haha). What has changed recently? 

“I have a bone to pick with you, Ghost Face.”

Ah, Danny forgot about that.

“D̴̻̓o̸̦͖̓ ̴͖͐̀y̷̮͝o̶̥͋̏u̷͇̿ ̸̺͐̀ñ̷̗o̷̡̺̓͂w̵̬̔̈́?̶͓͛͝ͅ” (Do you now?)

“First off, I want my gun back-”

“D̸̘̅̄͜o̸̮̓n̶̟̫̂͠’̴̝͓͂̃t̵̙͆͝ ̴͓̐̕ḧ̸͇́a̴̰͓͗v̸̢̭͌ẽ̸̩̗ ̵̙̥͒i̵̜̎t̶̳̜̓.̸͓̕” (Don’t have it.)

“Don’t- you don’t have it? Did you sell it?”

Danny could just feel the rising anger- slightly, the fear was still overwhelming. It was making him anxious. Hood standing over him all menacingly wasn’t helping. 

“N̸͙̐̂ơ̶̼.̵̝̯̅ ̷͍͔̑I̸͙͙̽̋t̷͎͒ͅ’̸̳̗́s̴̩͌͘ͅ ̶̙͙͊a̸̠̞̋t̷̯͖̾̊ ̷͔̿̾a̸̙̬͆ ̸̧̺̀̀b̵̡͑́a̶̹̒ṣ̶̏́e̶̼͝ ̶͐͜ȯ̵̬͌f̸̰̱̄͘ ̷̧͕̑̓m̴͎̭̽i̴̥̒̒n̷͕̄̊é̶̫̎.̵̣̮̆ ̷̛͈̀Î̴̧ ̴̩̈d̶̺́̊i̴̫̹̊d̴̻̿̌n̴͙̬̚’̵̪̰͝t̷̢͙̿͒ ̸̬̽b̵̲̾r̸͔̔͝ỉ̷͍̅n̷̉͜ǧ̵̳̖̀ ̵̭̫̈́i̷̥̣͊t̵͈̎͜ ̶̡̾b̶̮͓̂e̶̠̺͒͂c̶͎͈̊ȧ̷̱͓u̴͙͒s̶͔͉͘è̶̗̈́ ̵̣̤̀I̸͖̗͆̀ ̶̘̌̽ḋ̴̟̹̈́i̶̻̜̔d̸̢̛͛n̴͔̲̒’̵̨̟̂͘t̷̡̟̄ ̶̬͑͗i̸̦͐͠n̵͔͓͋̈t̴̡̏̅e̵͔͌n̴͗̈́͜d̶̘̄͜͠ ̵̣̅t̴̯͔͆ȍ̴̗̝̓ ̵͖̿s̶̺̕e̵̢͒ĕ̴̤͆ ̶̠͋̀ẏ̵̙ò̵̺̥̅u̷̺͆̐ͅ.̷̭̿” (No. It’s at a base of mine. I didn’t bring it because I didn’t intend to see you.)

“You just coincidentally came across me fighting and decided to, what? Lend a helping hand?”

“Y̸̯̮̐è̸͖s̶͇̼͝,̷͕̥͛͌ ̴̧̼̃͛ấ̴͙͚c̸̖̘̚͝t̵͓͊͝u̷̞̚a̵̧̦͒l̷͇̞͌͝l̷̠̕y̴̜̿͆.̷̯̀͝ ̶̬̉̐Y̴̮̞̓̐o̶̻̍̈u̸̧̹͊̾’̷̜̊͒͜ṙ̵̨̼̈́e̶̩̊ ̵̠̫̌̇w̴̤̃̒ẻ̴̖l̶͚̮͑c̶̝̆̎o̵̢̦̚m̵̙̘̋͠e̶͙̚.̴̨̲̕” (Yes, actually. You’re welcome.)

“Oh wow, my knight in shining armor-”

“N̸̤͐ȅ̵̳͙x̴̒̾ͅt̵͍̓ ̵͖̿͠t̸͍͒i̸͎̭̽̒m̷̬̲̌͆ê̴͕̝,̷̺͈̀ ̶̪̩͝I̷̬̬̎’̴̢̺̄l̶̻̀̆l̴͉͎̏̊ ̴̠͙̈́l̸͉̾͆e̵̫̾t̷͈͙͛̂ ̴͇̏̿y̸͇̳͠͠ô̸̥̗̈́u̷̧̱͑ ̸̡͌̕ͅg̸̻͉͗͠e̵̊̊͜t̵̺̎́ ̸̢͇̈́̿k̷͔̆i̷̤̾̔l̴̠̽̈́l̶̫̂ĕ̷̙͌d̴̙̓.̵̠̒” (Next time, I’ll let you get killed.)

“Harsh. I thought we had a deal going.”

“I̷͓̮͂͠ ̴̞̚d̵͔̔ȉ̴̢d̸̳͊͊n̸͍̈́̃’̵̭̇ͅṱ̷̑͗ ̴̜͂̊ả̸̡͓g̴͇̭̓r̷̟̠̄e̶͔͍̔́ė̴̥ ̵̪̑͌ͅt̴͈̖͠o̴̫̊͒ ̶̨̋̃a̵̳̺̓n̷̨͘̚y̵̡̌̓t̶̡͚̀h̷̛̤̲͐ḯ̶̢͍ṋ̸̓g̸͓̭̊.̵̨̯͊” (I didn’t agree to anything.)

“Making the offer is a guaranteed agreement, you know that right?”

Danny shut his mouth. What was he doing conversing with Hood like this? Bad news. This guy was the cause of some of your misery. Granted, it wasn’t on purpose like all the other people in his life who hurt him, but it still sucked. He was allowed to be a little salty that he was dying again because he chose to live in this guy's haunt. 

“Silent treatment, really?”

Hood had sighed before sitting down right next to Danny, leaning against a stray crate. His hand was pressed firmly against his abdomen. Now that he got a look at him, the vigilante was seriously messed up. There were slashes on his arm that cut through his clothes and skin. His abdomen had it worse though, a long cut from his hip to his stomach. Danny wasn’t sure where, as Hood was covering it with his arm, but the bleeding was quite excessive. 

“C̴̭̀̅’̶̞͗m̴̨̤̄̂o̷̯̎͘n̴͚̖͌̿ ̷̮̎͝c̶̛̣o̸͖͊m̷̗͕̌̉ȅ̶̼̘́ ̸̝͖́͆w̷͈͑ȉ̴͕͍͘t̷͚̙͝h̶͇̼́͒ ̵̭̈̈́ṃ̴̒̐e̶̘̰͌͛.̶̹̋͊” (C’mon, come with me.)

“What? Fuck no-”

Danny ignored him and grabbed him by his free arm, and attempted to hoist him up. He tried to make sure he didn’t use too much strength, just slightly above the average male. He knew he was skinny, but he could always just say he trained a lot or something. Hood didn’t make it easy, but Danny got quite a bit of ground, lifting him a good foot off the ground before Hood helped him out. Hood’s arm went over his shoulder and Danny held onto it while his other hand was holding the vigilante by the waist. 

“H̸͉̖̚e̷̢͌̃ĺ̸̩̪͆p̴̢͈̑̍ ̴̠͉̕m̸̡̡̓́é̴̛̝̗ ̸̜̚ȏ̵͉̞͗u̴̞̩͌t̸̰͗͐ ̶̥͊͝h̷̰̾̄e̶̫̅r̶̰̹̂̇e̷̳̿͝,̷̎͑ͅ ̷̳̝͌ď̵̗̪u̷͍̪͠ḓ̸̺͐e̷͖͓̽,̶̳̦̏̇ ̸͎̜̐͝I̶͕͛’̴̢̊̈́m̵̨̤̈́ ̶̥͛͝t̴̟͐͠r̵̯̘͠y̶̡̼͊̉i̷͈̔n̶͔͒g̴̢̗̐͠ ̶̲̉̌t̴̖͈͘o̷̡̅̀ ̸̯̲̓̑ḵ̶̣͌ȇ̴̩̗ë̷̞́p̷̛̩͠ ̵̺͌y̴̲̗͒o̸̝͛̿ų̸̲͋ ̶̫̰͐ã̶̡ļ̷̱̍i̵̙͌v̵̫̟̀̚ë̵̝́͝.̵̡͉̋” (Help me out here, dude, I’m trying to keep you alive.) 

Hood groaned and readjusted himself so he was holding himself up more. Danny could feel the energy leaving him at the contact. No matter, Hood took first priority. He’d make it- somehow.

“Fine, but I want answers.” 

Danny wasn’t going to argue with a patient. 

.

.

.

Danny dropped Hood on the ground in a new location. He sighed as his body readjusted to the difference. They hadn’t gone far, just barely a building or two away. He hid behind a wall and took the med kit he kept in his stomach out. He returned and set himself down at Hood’s side. He was glad the vigilante didn’t question it.

“M̴̨͉̀̈́o̴͇͂v̵̜̈́͌ę̶̆͛ ̴̛͍͋ÿ̸̯̀ͅǫ̴̇ǘ̸̮́ȑ̵͈ ̷̧͂ȧ̵̹͠r̸͓̅̕m̴̺̲͊͛,̸̞̙͗͠ ̷̭̂̈́ą̸̞̆n̷̘̙͐̆d̸̛̩ ̴̣͋̿t̵̟̕ȃ̸̗͝k̶̹͉̑͘ẻ̸̺ ̸̟͈̀̎t̴̖̤̍̎h̵̪͙́ỉ̸̧̤ŝ̴͎͗.̸̛͇́” (Move your arm, and take this.)

Danny shoved a couple of pills into Hood’s non bloodied hand and began the process of cutting the fabric around the wound. It’d need stitches for sure, but not something he wasn’t experienced in doing. Was he the best at this? No, but he was pretty damn good for someone who’s only learning curve was their own body. He healed fast, yes, but some injuries were too drastic to sleep off. He practiced stitches on dolls, but he’d never known if they’d work if he didn’t use them on himself. Jazz was better at this than him, but she wasn’t always there. 

“What are these?”

“P̶̣̟̅a̷̲̬̓i̷̩̻̕͝n̸̮̤̾̉ ̷̛͕̈́ḵ̷̨̑i̷̦̎ĺ̵̞͓͛ḷ̵͑ẹ̴̫͆̓ŕ̸͇͍s̴̜̩̒͑,̵̹̾ ̶̢̓͊t̶̯̎̚h̶̹̙̉͑ȇ̷͙͈̏ỷ̴̹͉͊ ̴̲̌̀â̵̭̰c̸̹̔̊ṭ̶̘́͠ ̷̻̬̏̐f̷̺̓å̷̪̋s̸̟̠͝t̴͉͗ ̵̺̻͌t̶̡̜̋ǫ̷̹͠ ̷̹̐̈ḧ̸͎̬́ẽ̵̲l̸͖̲͌p̸̗͗ ̵̗͕͗ẇ̷͓̱͌i̴̞̎͘ẗ̷͇́̑h̶̰̉ ̴͍̠͗t̷̟͉̐̄h̸̜̓̽ę̴͠ ̵͔̇̈p̴͙̤̆̀ȃ̴̬̠i̷̛̠n̶̖̪̿ ̵̤̇͑͜o̶̬͈͋͋f̸̥͈̀͗ ̸̺̗̐̈́t̸̬̲̊h̷̜̾e̷͗̂͜ ̵̚̚͜s̶͉̆t̴̮̽ï̴̜͋ț̶̎́c̸̩̓h̸̯͍͌̓ǐ̶͕ņ̴̈́̐g̷̥̾̍-̸͇̎ ̷͉͋̈ẁ̷͉͝h̶̨̬̉̇i̷̭͒̚c̶͇̍h̵̥͙̀̇ ̸̡̬͑̑y̴͍͍̓o̴͓̓͗u̵̮̦͑ ̸̯͚͐ń̷͓͑e̴̔͜͜ȅ̴̙̋d̵̡̗͂́ ̶̹͎͋̔b̵̞̑ỳ̶̩̘ ̸̱͗̈́t̴͔̥͋̊h̵̭͋̑e̵̦̟͊͘ ̴̹̼̏͐w̸̢̏à̵̩̌y̸̼̐͜.̶̆͜” (Pain killers, they act fast to help with the pain of the stitching- which you need by the way.) 

“How do I know these won’t just kill me?”

Danny rolled his eyes under the mask. Bracing himself for the inevitable contact he’d have with the other’s bare skin. Exhaustion settled deep in his bones.

“I̴͔̦̚͝f̸̬̤͋ ̵̖͈̇̒I̶̠͒ ̶̢̈́w̵͍͙͌a̵͈̔n̴͍̤̒́t̶̘̹̆͑e̴̬̐̍d̸͍̪̑̆ ̷̣͌y̴͙̋̕o̵͕̍̈́u̷̺͒ ̸͇̐̃d̷̮̹͑ȩ̸̍a̴̭̒̚d̵͎̑ ̷̣̘̍Ḯ̵͖̱̆ ̵̥̀ẁ̷̮̄o̴͉̥̓u̴͓̪̒̆l̸̛̝̓d̵̗̄ ̸̪̈́h̸͖͊͜a̵̬̣̿͊v̷͙͙͌è̷͈̼ ̷͉̾ͅj̴̜̈́ṵ̷͌s̷̡̛̜̋t̶̠̻͂ ̵͉͐̏ͅs̴͚͐͝h̵̀̚͜ȏ̸̫̞t̴̝͋̈́ ̴̘̗͝y̷̝͜͠o̴̤̪͒u̵͎̅ ̴̰̟̀͠w̵̥͂h̵̯̅i̸̺͍͑l̶̥̈́ę̷̜̇͒ ̷̹̳̋̍y̶̰͝o̵̠͝ṷ̸͛ ̴̘̤̉w̵̢̒ẹ̵̍r̶͓̈́͠e̵̳̩͠ ̴̟͑f̸̛̪ị̴̲͋g̴̖̉͘h̸̦͌̏͜t̷̰͎̎ị̵̝̑n̶̗͉͑͛g̷͚͊ ̵͓̥́ṭ̶̣̇̕h̵̗̠̃͌e̷̬̅m̷̧̖͑.̶̲̟͒́” (If I wanted you dead I would have just shot you while you were fighting them.)

“You have a gun on you? Is it mine?”

Danny didn’t answer. Hood could take that as a yes, but Danny didn’t have it on him. He left it at home because he wasn’t supposed to be meeting the other today. Curse Danny’s horrendous luck. 

“I want my gun back.”

Danny ‘accidentally’ cut a bit of Hood’s skin with the scissors. The vigilante flinched and glared at Danny. The halfa was unbothered and simply did the rest of his job, pushing away the fabric to get a clear view of the wound. 

“W̵̡͔͛h̷̙͆̔o̶͍̒o̸͓̓p̸͇̏͝s̶͈̊̄.̴̢̓͐” (Whoops.)

“Whoops? You just cut me.”

“W̵̡͔͛h̷̙͆̔o̶͍̒o̸͓̓p̸͇̏͝s̶͈̊̄.̴̢̓͐” (Whoops.)

Danny didn’t take his eyes off the injury and simply began threading the needle. It wasn’t a struggle and he got through it quickly. Hood hadn’t taken the pills, letting them rest in his gloved hand. Danny sighed before mumbling out a warning and starting. He had to give the vigilante credit, he didn’t so much as flinch. 

They remained in silence as Danny did the first few, crossing over and in being as gentle as possible. He knew the other’s pain tolerance was probably high, maybe higher than his, but he didn’t want to be the cause of any more suffering than possible. 

“Did you mean it?”

“M̶̛̘̒ẻ̷̡á̴͔̒n̴̢̤̑ ̷̰́w̴̮̄h̵̺͛ạ̶̢̍̀t̵̯́?̴̰̲̉̌” (Mean what?)

“When you said you could cure me, did you mean it?”

And without hesitation:

“Y̷̫̒è̴̝̫̑ș̶̣̈́͒.̶̳͔̈” (Yes.)

Danny tried to put as much conviction as possible into that one word. The silence soon followed. Hood was surely thinking over his options, or maybe the pain of stitches without medication made him unable to focus. Either way, it was getting awkward on Danny’s part. 

“W̶̫̘͋h̸̔͒͜y̸̪̣͊̍ ̷̣̀͆c̷͕̏h̸̟̾ọ̵͒̌ö̴̫́ṡ̴̢͚̋ȇ̶̜ ̴̢̕ͅt̵̞̓̅h̶͎̳̉̀ḛ̵̰͋̀ ̴̭̇n̸̹͋a̵̮̕m̵͓͑e̵̫̙̾ ̵̦̮̈́̊R̷̢̋̍e̴̠͂͝d̶͕̣̂͑ ̵̫̼̐H̵̪͂͐o̵̙̚̕ŏ̴̳d̴͓̣͝?̶̛̱̽” (Why choose the name Red Hood?)

Sue him, it was the first question he could think of. He didn’t see Hood trying anything better.

“What?”

“W̵̪̝̑h̴͙͛y̵̺͖͛̈ ̷̯͐̅ḯ̵̢ş̵̮̂̇ ̸̯͆ͅt̵͍̓h̵͛̃ͅå̸̤t̵͕̻͒ ̴̗̫́y̵̗̲̆̂o̸̪̳͐̊ů̸̖̪r̸̥̺͆̎ ̴͈̑͠ṉ̴̛̕a̶͇͒m̸̜̲͆͝ę̷͎̃?̶͎̃” (Why is that your name?)

“Why is your name Phantom Thief?”

“B̴̦͛è̵̙͔͝c̵̜̯̈͘a̴̺̋̿ų̷̂s̴̰͎͆̓e̸̝̓ ̵̢̨̋ẏ̸̡̋õ̸͜u̸̟̾̔ ̴̘̱̀̃g̵͇͐͌a̷̮̔v̶̬̈e̶̠͔̒ ̷̪̬̈́i̸͊͋ͅt̴̤̯̽ ̵̠͠ẗ̴̳́̕o̵̪͕̐ ̴̞̣̊m̶̆͜e̴̘̿̓.̶̧̃” (Because you gave it to me.)

“Touche” 

Silence fell once more, but this time, Hood was the one to break it. A sigh.

“Red Hood used to be the name the Joker went by. It was his moniker.” 

Danny let him go on, focusing on finishing the stitches. He tried to hurry it up, an attempt to avoid or lessen the consequences of such contact.

“Taking on his name, knowing it’d mess with him, make him angry- was honestly the best fuck you I could give to the bastard. Joker is a possessive piece of shit, and seeing someone going around with something that was once his- well, that would be the most satisfactory part of this job.” 

Danny could feel the anger, the grief, the rage and pure feeling of vengeance in the air. He didn’t know if he wanted to let this continue. Clearly, the Joker was a sore subject, and the amount of hate radiating off of the man near him was more than enough reason to change the subject. Danny had a feeling that the Joker had something to do with the other’s death, but asking was considered taboo, and Danny was one to follow rules (no he wasn’t, but this was important). 

“W̶͔͚̓͑h̵̩͘͜͝o̵̙̎̄ ̶̻̓͗ẃ̴͚͔̄ĕ̷̥́ṛ̵̓e̵̗̙͂̑ ̵̥͉̎t̷̖͑h̴̤̫́͝o̴̞̹̓s̷̛͙̆e̵̻̒̊ ̸̡͔̆g̸̯̹͝ư̷͆͜ẙ̵̛̲s̸̨̫̄͐?̴͔̺̾” (Who were those guys?)

“Why do you need to know?”

“A̴͕̓̕p̵̠͌̆ả̶̠̕r̴͕̘͌̕ṫ̶̖ ̵͎̈f̵̡̥̎̄r̷͚̞̃̈́ȏ̷̟̋m̶͚̽ ̵̘̰͌t̸̞͋̆h̸̙̿́ḙ̸̽ ̵̡͒͆f̴͎͒̐ą̸̑c̷̭̈ẗ̷̗͠ ̷̳̓t̷̳̤̏̿h̶̢̬͐̎a̵̤̫̔t̷̫͚͝ ̷̖̓I̸͖̠̒ ̵̤́͑j̸͖̿u̸͝ͅs̶͇͛̌t̶̘̻̓ ̵̟̂͑f̸͋̎͜o̵͇͒u̸͖̍͠ĝ̷͖h̷̑͜t̶͈͎̎ ̶̲͝t̶̡̗̑h̵̗͆e̸͓̬͐m̸̙͉͊̌-̴͙̬͋ ̵̥̻͂ṯ̷̬̈́͋ḧ̶͇̬́̽ě̴̤ẙ̷͚̊…̸̫͋ ̸̭̱̄̄t̶͙̊͘ḩ̶̍͒e̷̤̯͗̅y̷̋̑ͅ ̶̰̫́̈́w̶̹̏̑͜ẹ̸͑̀r̷̬͌̐ë̸̞́ ̷̘̀a̶͚̩͘f̵͖͝͠r̸͚̆á̶̭i̷͇͑̊d̸̥͗.̸̟̆̓ ̴̦͂͜G̴̲͛́ḁ̴̃͝v̵̱̞́̕e̶̯̮͂̚ ̸̩͇̽͂m̴̦̈́͜e̶͍̔̽ ̵̰͈̚͘a̷̹̗͐͒ ̴̦͕̌ḃ̵̧ạ̴͊͆d̷̝̅ ̴̦͔̈́̕f̷̼̣͗e̶̩͛ȩ̵̪͊l̸͉̈ị̶̈́n̵̮͒g̷͇̙̉̈́.̵͍̒” (Apart from the fact that I just fought them- they… they were afraid. Gave me a bad feeling.)

“How do you know that?” 

“Ṫ̴̜͝ḧ̶̼́ḙ̸̾y̵͕̰̌͗ ̶̩̂ͅw̴̮͘e̷͚̚r̴̙̦̂͋ḙ̵͙̈́ ̵̡̅d̶̖̲̉r̵̰̮͒u̶͚̣̔ģ̸́g̸̞̮̎ḛ̴͒̈d̵̰̔,̸̛̟͍́ ̵͓̔u̵͖̅̈ͅṋ̵́̉s̶̮̼̉t̸͙̝͗̐ę̶̨́ā̵͈͔d̸̥͑͒y̶̨̪̿,̷̗͘ ̴͎̋b̵̮͋͜u̴͇̔t̶͖̎̂ ̴̱͆͠t̷̗̩͐ḥ̷̺͑e̸͍̟̓͋ ̴̠̝͗l̵͎̥͗͋ỏ̶͕̀ō̴̦̾k̷̼͂̒ ̴̘͙̓ĭ̵̳n̷͕̈̿ ̴̤͒t̸͐͜ḣ̸̑ͅë̶̙͇̄i̷̧̞͑r̸̛̠̎ ̷̺̑e̴̥͑̈ỳ̸̺̊ē̷̦̼̊s̷͈̐͌ ̵͛̈͜w̵̥̱̆͝a̷̧͌s̶̨̀…̸̘͘ ̸̟̒s̷̨̔̓o̶̞͆̆m̴̩͗͒ę̷͇̍͒t̴͙͛ĥ̸͓͓i̷̱͛̍n̶̳̈̉ǵ̴̺̹ ̴̡̀̎ẹ̶̮͊͗l̵̯̎̑s̴͍̤͌ë̶̫”  (They were drugged, unsteady, but the look in their eyes was… something else)

Danny may have lied, but what was he supposed to do? Tell Hood he could just feel other people's feelings? Fat chance. He already risked his identity by showcasing his involvement with death, which was a stupid decision on his part. Being an actual empath would just throw him in the meta category (if he’s not already there). Plus, while the likeness of Hood snitching everything to Batman is low, it’s not zero, and Danny doesn’t want the big bat himself on his tail. He needed to be sure of what he said to the other, he was sloppy before, but he can’t risk it. Especially being as weak as he is now. 

“Scarecrows goons. He escaped Arkham and has been pretty silent since. There were leads in Crime Alley, so I was checking it out. I ended up busting the place but Scarecrow was nowhere to be found. His fear toxin is different, so he must have done something to it.”

“I̷̠͆ ̴͔̼͋s̸̋͋ͅe̷̲̺͌ë̵͈́.̴̨̰̎” (I see.)

Hood was warning him, wasn’t he? Why would he openly tell him any information otherwise? Leads in Crime Alley meant that the other bats would be here snooping. This meant he had to lie low. He had to finish up all his preparations by tomorrow then. Any later and he’s sure to get caught. Outrunning Hood is one thing, out running Batman was something else. 

“Ṭ̵͖̊̇h̷̳̽͝a̷͇͗n̴͓͈͊̈k̴̳͍̑̅ ̶̓͜͝y̸͓̒̐ơ̴̟͈̆ǘ̴̈́͜ ̵̳̘́̒f̴̪̽̏ͅo̵̼͖͛r̷̺͇͐͘ ̶͉̆͝t̸̨͌͝ĥ̸̫͐ĕ̵͉̘͊ ̷̧̛̻͊ṯ̶̻̌i̶̺̘̽p̷̗͉͌.̷͚̙̅” (Thank you for the tip.)

“What tip?”

Danny allowed himself to smile. 

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“Did you find anything on Scarecrow last night?”

Tim sighed as Bruce asked him a question. They were in the Batcave and Tim was working overtime in order to hide the amount of time he wasted at Jason’s. It was inevitable that he would return to Wayne Manor coming morning, but he still wished he didn’t have to be on the opposite end of Bruce’s interrogation. 

“There’s signs of him. Even found some traces of his business. I’d be careful though, something feels wrong. Imports of different chemical formations than usual. It seems like he changed his formula. Jason said he’d check it out tonight, but I think we should move in as well soon just in case.”

“Understood, it will be made a priority. Find out what that new serum is, we need an antidote before going in.”

“Already working on it. If I had a sample it’d be much easier though.”

“We’ll see what we can do. For now, I’ll tell Hood to disengage.”

“He’s not gonna like that, Bruce.”

“He’ll have to.”

And with those final words, Bruce left Tim alone in the cave, heading out for patrol. Thank God, honestly. Tim didn’t know how long he could hold up with the family’s curiosity. One was bad enough, but all of them? He was glad enough that Dick was still in Bludhaven. There was no way he’d let that slide if he found out that Jason and Tim actively worked together. 

For now, he’d keep his promise to Jason. He couldn’t get in the way of his brother’s future relationship, now could he?

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Danny was beyond exhausted returning home. It was well past the point of danger. He could barely function. He still had work to do- but a self check was mandatory. He seated himself on the floor (he’d fall asleep if he even so much as thought of his bed), and tried pooling his ectoplasm in his hand. Key word- tried .

Usually in about a second or two his hand would be filled with no problem or trouble, now, however? He had gotten about a tablespoon’s worth, and what was there was dirty beyond comparison. It was rotten, almost. The clean pure green that he usually saw was murky and dull. This was worse than he’d thought. 

He tried bringing out any more ecto, but anything more than what came forth held the feeling of being pulled from him- it wasn’t supposed to do that. He shouldn't have that sense of loss from pooling it in his hand. It was far too small of an amount. For a being practically made of the stuff, he has excess. He has more than he could possibly need, so where was it?

Danny started to pace, his brain coming up with solutions. Gotham alone could explain the corruption, but what about the amount of missing ectoplasm? He was drained, physically and mentally. The halfa wracked his brain, going over everything he’s done since coming to Gotham. The little mini jobs he did on the side held no problem, neither did most of his night time adventures. What started the actual illness was coming to Crime Alley in the first place. Danny seriously underestimated how corrupted the place truly was, and how weak he was against it. 

The real problem came with his run-ins with the local crime lord/vigilante. Danny hadn’t noticed the decrease in ectoplasm in him until now, but he had that feeling of it way before. He didn’t know how to explain it. When he had first met Hood, he felt fine, but those meetings were short and anxiety inducing- now, however? Now, he was talking with the other for prolonged periods of time, and Danny couldn’t get rid of that sense of chill he got from mere contact with the other. 

That explained it then, Hood was draining Danny of his life force. It made sense though. He was the source of Crime Alley’s corruption. While it may have been bad before, the vigilante worsened it and molded the area to his own. Spiritually, the place was a mess. Of course Hood would drain Danny of his clean ecto, he was starving and sick in comparison. The halfa just wished it didn’t come with a price. 

Danny didn’t know whether one more meeting with Hood would end him for good or not, but the thought alone was enough to put him into action. It’s unlikely that the other was doing it on purpose, most likely it was subconscious in the first place. The side effects from taking something so strong and pure would surely hit the crime lord soon. 

One cannot start with a constitution as murky as sewage and then take in the purest form of it. The ectoplasm has to at least be diluted. It’s the same as taking laced drugs when only having vaped before. Two different ball pits of strength. You can’t compare an Advill to an Opioid, it just doesn’t work. Hood just took a strong dose of ectoplasm that his constitution won’t be able to handle, and while he would probably make it out of this alive, Danny might not. He was different from the other, he was made of this stuff, lacking in it in any way was detrimental to his health and power. 

Danny would get worse regardless of whether or not he saw Hood again. He could hide all he wanted, but that wouldn’t stop him from getting worse as the days went on. All of Gotham is corrupted, and leaving the city wouldn’t guarantee recovery, only detection. The GIW would surely catch on to his existence if he left, and he’d rather suffer like this than get caught by them, but at the same, he couldn’t die. 

Danny didn’t have any other option now, he had to build the portal. A source of pure ectoplasm would both strengthen and heal him, something he was desperate for now. He needed to protect the infinite realms, and he couldn’t do that if he was dying for the second time. The GIW would be a major problem, and while he wished he had more time before facing them head on- he didn't. Weighing the pros and cons, the risks and rewards, was enough to tell him he had to do it. 

He can’t protect anyone if he’s dead, and that thought alone was enough to make him down the remaining bits of ectoplasm he had on him and get to work on the portal. 

The GIW would be at his door the second the portal was up and running, and this time, he’d make sure he was prepared.

Chapter Text

Jason didn’t like false hope. False hope is what got him killed. Hoping and believing he’d get saved in time, when he knew deep down he’d never make it, made his death and resurrection all the more painful. One time. He allowed it one time since. 

Ghost Face gave him answers he never had before. He told him things and he believed them. All the facts were there, and that gut feeling of his was unmistakable, so how did it get here? 

It has been a little over one week since he’s seen the thief. At first, he felt oddly amazing. The pits were so dreadfully quiet- not a single knock. He was at peace . He was doing so well. The urge to kill, to hurt, wasn’t there. He didn’t know what it was, but he should have looked into it. Jason should have known it wouldn’t last. 

And now he sat on his bathroom floor throwing up blood and- … he was sick. He was sick and it wasn’t the average cold, flu, or even hangover, because he recognized what was in that water. Not only was he throwing up blood, no, because why would he ever have something as simple as internal bleeding, no, it was lazarus water. The shit that haunted him in his nightmares. The thing inside of him that he could never get rid of. 

He felt like shit. He felt like he was dying all over again. He was in pain, and couldn’t function. He couldn’t eat, or sleep, or move . He was stuck on the tiled floor with his flickering light emptying out his soul. That wasn’t even the worst part. It was the shaking, the headache- no- migraine, the short breathing and the fucking clown standing above him , flickering in and out of existence with his lights. Logically he knew it wasn’t real, but that didn’t stop the cold chill that ran down his spine. 

His rage was gone. His front was missing and all that remained was the pure terror he felt. That man- that monster was in his home standing above him, mocking him, and all he could do was stare with hazy unsteady eyes and try his damn hardest to fight it back. He was shaking, and he didn’t even know if it was from whatever was causing the rest of this or his murderer standing above him, taunting him. 

Jason was afraid to look down at himself- afraid to see the silhouette of his 15 year old self all battered and bloodied. If he lost sight of himself- his current self- how could he even dream of getting past this? And even still with all this going on, he was worried over that stupid fucking thief. 

They were supposed to meet again, a week after, and it’s been two days since then and those last two days have been absolute hell. Phantom Thief was missing again, but this time he was supposed to be somewhere, and even with this illness that could only be the other’s fault, he was worried, and he hated himself for it. Phantom Thief had left him to rot. There was no way the other didn’t know about this. What was even happening to him? 

The pits were engraved into his very being- he couldn’t just throw them up he tried. It felt as if a piece of him, a piece of his life, was being forcefully pulled from him. Was he dying? Was this how he was going to go out? Throwing up his soul in one of his shitty apartments in Crime Alley alone with that clown watching his final moments once again? As fucking if. 

He groaned as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. If he was dying he damn well wasn’t going to be found on his bathroom floor. He tried his best to ignore his… visitor as he grabbed onto the sink corner. Getting his arm raised enough to reach it was hard on its own, he didn’t think he could manage to get himself off the tiles at this rate. Jason tried once- putting as much strength into his arms and legs to raise him off the ground, no chance. It wasn’t enough. 

He was so weak. His immune system was strong, it had to have been growing up on the streets, and especially so after the poison training he went through with the league, so what the hell was this? Jason didn’t think he even had the energy to get angry, and what a thought that was. All these years and the only thing he was capable of was rage, and yet, now he couldn’t. He couldn’t find himself to feel how he should be in the situation. 

And Goddamnit he trusted that stupid thief and now he’s suffering the consequences. Where did Phantom even go? No sightings, no contact, no nothing. Jason was the fool for believing in anything, let alone that he could be fixed . Just him and his stupid luck. The people he thought they were weren’t, and the connections he thought he had were lies. Why is it that everytime he’s dying, his stupid decision of trust is what’s behind it? 

And yet, he couldn’t find himself to regret.

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Tim was worried out of his mind. Jason hadn’t contacted him in days. The last he heard about him was a little under a week ago, and that wouldn’t be so concerning had their relationship been like it was 3 months ago. Sure, his relationship with his older brother wasn’t the best, but Tim hadn’t exactly been close to his family. Look, him joining the business wasn’t perfect timing. Bruce had been in his whole depressive episode on way to murder, Dick actually committed murder (even if it didn’t last [dammit]), and Tim was someone who just stepped up. Dick was still pissed off at Bruce and they couldn't even talk about the other without getting upset or shutting down, Batman himself was gruff and rude and harsh and insistent on Tim never being good enough. 

Look, the point is that Tim wasn’t besties with his family. He didn’t share a connection with any of the members like they did with each other. Dick and Damian were as close as can be, Damian and Bruce, Cass and Steph and Duke, Jason and Dick (who’s relationship has improved greatly). These were all pairs he saw on a daily basis that had a certain connection he was jealous of, and while he knew that they’d do anything for him and vice versa, it didn’t erase that feeling. Point is that he had gotten to the point with Jason that they spoke often and not always about the Phantom Thief case. He enjoyed it, he enjoyed having a closer relationship with at least one of his brothers (especially since Damian was still out for blood). 

So sue him for being worried. He tried texting and calling but Jason wasn’t answering, and he was damn near about to go and drop by if he didn't know how much the other would hate it. He may have already tracked the phone and his suit to see where he was, but he hasn't made any move to go there. 

Bruce would get suspicious, Tim was leaving too often, and complaining less. Now, while he knew damn well no one noticed anything just yet, him leaving without making prior plans really only happened during large cases or certain events. Last time he used Scarecrow as an excuse, but it was back to normal crime levels (which was suspicious), so he didn’t have much to go off of. He could always just leave and refuse to answer any questions, withholding the truth wasn’t lying per say- but then again he has been lying otherwise so what was the point in trying to be better now? 

Screw it. He was going and dealing with Bruce would be another problem. He could just say he was scouting future investments. Wayne Industries hadn’t made any big plans recently. If it was night time he could have just visited during patrol, but he didn’t want to wait that long. A few days was enough to give Jason time, just in case it was an episode or anything, but he couldn't leave it. There were no signs, and Jason would have warned him or something. 

Tim sighed as he got up from his desk and closed his laptop. He went under his bed and grabbed his backpack kept for emergencies- no not the start-a-new-life bag, or the fake your death bag, but the hospital on the go bag. He put the laptop in the sleeve, grabbed his phone, an extra set of communicators, and some tech and weapons he kept hidden in his room. With one more check he went downstairs and over to the front door. Sneaking out otherwise would just make him look suspicious.

“Where may you be going, Master Tim?”

“I was going to scout out some new deals for WI, after the whole Phantom Thief incident, we’ve been a little too slow. It’s suspicious and if I see Vicki Vale outside of my office asking questions about it one more time I’ll give her a new front page article to match that hospital bill.”

“I see. Would you like me to drive you?”

“No, it’s alright, I’m going to try and stay as under the radar as possible. Pulling up in a Rolls Royce isn’t exactly subtle, Alfred.”

“Understood. Do be careful, and do return in time for dinner.”

“Got it Alfred, call me if anything happens.”

And with those final words he closed the doors behind him and went over to his motorcycle. Before going though, he made sure to trip up the trackers in it, and then he went off. 

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Danny woke up and stretched his arms. He was on the floor, the hardwood floor, not even a rug or something between him and pure flat wood. Wonderful. He had gotten pretty good progress, but he still had to go to work and College and stuff. A lot of his classes he could just do online, some didn’t even count attendance, but his job was a different story. He was still going in, though he did cut his hours to the bare minimum allowed. Trisha looked just about ready to kick him out and make him go home. 

He was self aware, he knew he probably looked as bad as he felt, which was insanely bad. It was nice that his boss cared so deeply about him, but then again he has calmed some people down that would have been problems otherwise so he’d say he's a valued member to the team. Still, he couldn’t just get fired from this job, and taking days off after getting it so soon was just asking to get kicked. Though none of that changed the issue of his physical state, he looked and felt like a hospital patient on their last run. Walking and breathing were becoming difficult. He was sleeping and eating way more to try and compensate for his other body’s failure, but it wouldn’t hold up long. 

His parents took years building the portal, more than a decade even, and now he was trying to finish it in a few weeks. He had the starting point, the blue prints, but the schematics were flawed and unstable. He had to change things around, like where the on button is placed first off. He also had to alter the built in wall that kept the portal closed when unwanted. These changes took time, and what he would usually get done in 30 minutes took him hours. He was working as fast as he could but when every step forward felt like he was struggling underwater- his productivity decreased. 

One week. It had been a little over one week and Danny wasn’t even a fourth of the way done yet. He had to pick up the pace. All he had so far was the frame, not even any of the inner workings and wires. 

He was running out of time, and he knew that if he didn’t succeed, no one would be there to save him. 

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Tim didn’t know what to do, and that was saying something. He had to break into the apartment because no one was answering the door. Luckily, every single bat was trained in the art of lock picking, and Tim had made sure he perfected the skill. Now, the problem didn’t arise with the door being unanswered, the problem was that his brother was passed out on the floor of his bathroom. 

The reasonable option would be to call in some help, but because Tim was sure that if anyone other than him or Dick entered this apartment he’d get shot, he decided to leave it to him alone. Thus, led to him dragging his brother completely out of the door, and then picking him up (trying to), and dragging him over to the couch to rest. This really let him know he was lacking a little too much in the physical department, truly. 

He then opened his bag and took out all needed supplies. First, taking his brother's temperature, and then a bit of blood for testing. Jason was out cold and wasn’t going to be waking up soon, but there was still a pulse so he could let him rest a little more. Tim would have to go back to the bathroom and test the substances there as he hadn’t actually gotten a look in the spur of getting Jason to a comfier surface. The beeping of the thermometer let him know that a fever was present. 

Then comes the caretaking protocol. He administered some fever reducers and painkillers before getting up and rummaging through the house. There was no A/C, but there were a couple fans and the water did run cold. Tim was ever so thankful for the few medical classes he took from Alfred and Doctor Thompson. Who knew what Jason had? 

After setting up the fans and putting a damp cold towel on Jason’s head, Tim left to clean up and run some tests. First off, the place was a mess. Items were knocked off of shelves and counters, glass was broken, and the floors were dirty. From the traces it looked as if his brother came in hazy and unbalanced. There were places where it was obvious Jason fell into, if the large hole in the wall was any indicator. 

He ignored it to go and look at the bathroom. The light was flickering, and the sink had blood on it, so did the floor, and then- and then he saw what exactly Jason had been doing, because right there in front of him was a mix of Lazarus water and blood. 

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Jason groaned as he got up. He felt infinitely better than he was 2 hours ago- wait. His head was wet, he was on a cushion not tile, and there was a breeze on him. Jason shot up, opening his eyes and grabbing the cloth as it fell off of him. He looked around, surveying the room. There were fans on him, a blanket too, his shoes were off and to the side and his jacket was resting on the hanger across the room. The place was clean, cleaner than he ever left it, and cleaner then it was before if his hazy memory served correct. 

Someone had been here, and just as he made move to get up and investigate-

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Jason.”

Tim. Of course it was Tim. He had nearly grabbed a gun. Jason allowed himself to relax on the couch, moving the blanket around as he let his feet touch the ground. 

“What happened?”

“I should be asking you that. No contact for days and I come here just to see you passed out on your bathroom floor? Jason, what the hell?”

“Aw, you care-”

“Jason. What is going on? Whatever you caught or something isn’t in any records, so the only known reason I got is from the lazarus pits. What did you do?”

He didn’t want to get into it. Granted, Tim was better than any other in this regard, and the fact that the two of them were the only ones in this room meant that he held up his promise and kept Jason a secret. Double points for Tim, but Jason didn’t even know what was going on himself, so how was he to explain this?

“ I didn’t do anything. My bets that it was Phantom Thief.”

“Phantom? What are you-”

“I saw him again. We had another meeting.”

“What?”

Tim, who was previously standing at the entrance to the living room, moved and sat across from him on a chair. He didn’t even remember having one in this apartment, which apartment was he even in? Besides the point. 

“He helped me out against Scarecrow's goons. I got injured during the fight and there were too many of em. They weren’t drugged with the normal fear toxin, no, this was different. I explained it in my report but they were reckless and no amount of pain would make them stop. It was hard to take them down without getting any injuries, and then they just kept coming. Phantom saw me and helped out, then patched me up and we talked.”

“How intimate-”

Jason threw the wet towel at Tim, though it was unsuccessful as Tim had caught it without even looking up from his laptop. Where did he even get the damn thing? 

“I’m pretty sure he’s the one that fucked me over so let’s not. Anyways we talked for a while. I asked some more questions and he answered to the best of his abilities, but eventually we spoke about things other than my condition and what he was doing as Phantom.”

Tim looked up at his brother and gave him a look, raising an eyebrow and conveying the thought of ‘are you serious?’ Jason ignored him. 

“What did you talk about?”

“Not relevant.”

“Jason-”

“Not relevant.”

He hated the look Tim had on his face. The look that said ‘I know something’ that just infuriated Jason beyond imagination. 

“Okay, whatever you say.”

“It’s not-”

“Okay, I said I believe you. Go on with your tale-”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Not wrong.”

“Dude- you know what? Not unpacking that. Anyways, the problem is that we were supposed to meet again two days ago, and we didn’t. He wasn’t there.”

“Oh- that’s worrying.”

“I know he has something to do with what’s happening to me, but the bastard is impossible to find so no dice.”

“What has been happening to you, Jason?”

He laughed before speaking, his voice airy and exhausted. 

“The real question is what hasn’t been.”

Chapter Text

He did it. He finally finished that horrid portal. It has been a little under a month, and Danny had no clue how he did it. He sighed as he steadied himself against the wall. His body was well past the point of exhaustion and he knew the sooner he pressed that on button the better- but he couldn’t. 

In front of him stood the very thing that killed him all those years ago. In front of him was the machine that changed his life (half) forever. This thing took over his city, forced him into roles he didn’t want, and led to the near destruction of the planet- but it also gave him friends. It also gave him Dani. It also gave him Frostbite and Clockwork and Pandora. It gave him life in the same way it took it from him. This portal had been his endings and beginnings. He didn’t know where he’d be without it, and despite the pain and the suffering, he wouldn’t change a thing.

This time, no one would die in its creation. This time, it wasn’t a 14 year old boy opening the entrance but a 20 year old adult. This time, Danny was alone . No biggie. No problem. He could do it, truly. All he had to do was plug it in to the generator he stole all those months ago, and hit the on button (that was now outside the damn thing). 

He took a couple deep breathes, something he was doing more often now that breathing was more than just a luxury. He held close to the wall as he walked around to the end of the room. The portal nearly took all of the space, using well over half from its size alone. Once he’d reached the back wall, he practically collapsed to the ground grabbing the wire and plugging it in. He did some final adjustments to the power outtake before hobbling back to the front and opening the glass casing around the button. 

This was it. Every switch was flicked, every wire was woven, every plug was in, the only thing left was that button. Just press it-

What if it doesn’t work? 

What if he just spent the last month of his borrowed time working on a portal just for it to fail? 

It couldn't fail. Failure meant he died. Failure meant Hood died. Failure meant that the GIW was going to get away with it. Failure meant that Danny wasn’t as special or as smart as he thought he was. Failure meant that the Ghost Zone was doomed. Failure meant that ghosts in themselves were doomed. 

If he was gone, who’d protect his kind? Who would save them from those cages, from those lab tables? Who would fight against their own government for a species no one cared or even knew about? Danny was alone in this fight. Danny was his own army. Danny couldn’t handle failure, not now, not ever. Too much was at stake here. He had to do it. He had to find out. Procrastinating ate away at his already borrowed time. 

He breathed, in, out. 

He could do this. It was just a button. He made it safe, no one would get hurt, he wouldn’t get hurt.

Danny steadied himself against the cool metal of the rim. He shook as his hand covered the button- and then he pushed. 

Right away he stumbled back. The inner workings of the portal flickering, electricity meeting in the middle. He fell, his back hitting the wall as he was left to watch. It was almost mesmerizing. Lightning dancing mid air, creating shock and sparks. 

He counted the seconds until he saw that familiar green. 

1

2

3

4

Boom. 

The sparks conjoined before dispersing out against the walls, the center then became a swirling mist of glowing green, turning and turning as it grew in size. Danny couldn't take his eyes away from it, his body instantly absorbing as much ectoplasm as he could. That feeling of pure energy that filled him- oh how he’d never take it for granted again. It was like coffee had just been shot into his veins, but not in the way as if it felt forced, pulling him through his exhaustion- no, this was different. This was more of being instantly healed. All of his aches and pains vanishing into nothing, his skin regaining color, and his eyes becoming bright. He felt rejuvenated in the most beautiful form of the word. 

This was what he was missing. He now realized how horrible the state he’d been in since closing the portals 3 years ago. How could he pass this up? He could feel his systems almost rebooting, purifying the contamination within him and cleansing his core. 

Phantom was back, and this time, it wasn’t the thief.

.

.

.

All at once multiple monitors dinged to life, a siren going off. They’ve gotten a ping. Just now a powerful source of ectoplasm reached their radars. Everyone ran towards the large screens. Gotham. Gotham held that source. They had to go and find it. It could be Phantom, but no- this was different. Phantom’s signature was specific, powerful and strong but balanced rather than chaotic. This was the truest form of ectoplasm- a portal. 

A portal has been made in Gotham, and where a portal formed, a ghost was behind its creation. They just found Phantom and their entry ticket to the Ghost Zone, and they weren’t about to let that go, oh no. 

Weapons were grabbed, tech was packed, and vehicles were started. 

That ghost wouldn’t get away from them again, they’d make sure of it.

.

.

.

Something was wrong. Jason could feel it. Something had happened in Crime Alley and he didn’t know what. He got up from his seat and ran to his room. He didn’t have patrol for another hour or two, but ignoring his gut wasn’t something he did in this line of work.  He quickly suited up and loaded his guns, this time, he only had one with rubber bullets. 

After doing a final check he opened his window and jumped out. It was dusk, not dark, but no one was out at this time, so he’d be fine. As he climbed up to the roof he used his comm to call Tim. 

Over the last few weeks Tim had been practically living with Jason. Especially when Bruce had been a little too much during patrol. The two’s relationship changed for the better. Jason liked the change, though he’d never admit it. Still, Tim has become his first call for business like this, and when some leads were in Crime Alley, he was the one to answer the phone. 

“What’s up Jason?”

“Bad feeling.”

“Not giving me much to work with-”

“Something happened in Crime Alley, I know it but I don’t know what.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll check cams.”

Jason sighed in relief, moving faster than his usual pace in order to scan the area as quickly as possible. This feeling of dread or anxiety that stirred within him- within the pit . He hadn’t felt the damn thing for a while. The pit had grown weak, maybe that’s because he threw up most of it. Still, his mind was clearer, and his chronic pain was dissipating. The only issue was that he was still getting sick, becoming out of commission for hours or days at a time. 

The pit was silent, but the effects of whatever got to him were still there. The first week after his collapse was absolute hell. He could barely leave his house, meaning he had to call in a few favors to keep Crime Alley in shape. He had a doppelganger patrolling in his place and Tim covering for him with the Bats. He was riddled with the same symptoms, but luckily they never reached that ultimate low from last time.

He didn’t know what it was, but after 2 weeks he felt way better, maybe even better than before he got sick in the first place. There still was that slight pounding in his head and the aches around his body from the unsavory wounds that caused his death, but that was still marginally better than when he was throwing up his soul in his shitty apartment bathroom. 

“Did you find anything?”

“I don’t even know what I’m looking for. Did your gut tell you anything else ?” 

Jason didn’t answer. Tim was right, he hadn’t given him any information, and there was only so much he could do online. If Tim got the streets covered, then he’d just have to go deeper- places where there weren't any cameras. With that thought, the vigilante changed directions and started his check once more. 

“I’m not finding anything on my end. Are you sure it even happened yet?”

“It has to have. I’m checking the docks right now, and then I’ll do searches on the ground. I swear Tim, something is up.”

“I believe you. I just can’t find out what.”

That belief meant far more to him than Tim would ever know. 

“Okay, if that’s all you can do then just go rest before patrol.”

“Rest? Me? You’re kidding yourself- I still have to-”

“Do jack shit.”

He jumped down between buildings and hung across the railings, leaping from one to another in a descent.

“Bruce has it covered till patrol. Plus, you hit a dead end in all your cases right now. There’s no more you can do.”

“As if. What if you find something?”

Jason scowled under his mask. His brother was infuriating at times. For someone so smart, he was idiotic far too often. Jason landed in the entrance to the docks, just behind a warehouse. He began sneaking in.

“Then I’ll call it in.”

“But-”

“I’ll call Alfred.”

He warned as he rummaged through each room and checked for people.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. Don’t test me, replacement.”

He descended to the bottom floor. It, like the other rooms, was empty as well. If something was happening, it wasn’t here. Jason continued his search, leaving to the other warehouses along the edge. There were little to no people here, only the occasional drug addicts looking to get their high in peace. It was a bust, but he kept going.

“Jason- we can talk about this-”

“Wow, how did my hand find its way to my comm! I wonder what it’s up to-”

“Fine, fine! I’m going to my room, but if you so much as open the chat, I’m down.”

“Deal.”

Jason smiled triumphantly as Tim called out and left the line dead. Finally some peace and quiet. He entered another building and scoured it. Nothing was there. His checks may have been a little less than thorough, but when the place was practically deserted there was nothing to scan for. No technology as he sees it, so no bombs or anything such. No hidden wiring or rooms or random rituals trying to summon the king of the dead- nothing.

Was he just imagining it? Was his anxiety just another symptom of the last few weeks? There was no way. That pit in his stomach was not just simple anxiety, something was happening- or something already did. There was no other explanation for the pure feeling of wrongness he was experiencing. 

Jason was going to find its source, and he prayed for the person who was the cause of it, because today was not the day to piss him off. 

.

.

.

The ghost zone was right in front of his face, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to go to it. He still had a job to do on this side. Touching the swirling ectoplasm and absorbing it was enough, bringing his arm through and back would be enough. He couldn’t leave it unattended- he couldn’t just keep it open when the GIW were still running rampant. No- he had to deal with them first. He could go and see Dani and FrostBite and Clockwork and everyone else later. He waited 3 years, he can wait a little more. 

His feelings weren’t as important as their safety, never was, never will be. So with that final thought, he grabbed all the empty canisters from his kitchen and filled each one with ectoplasm. The longer he kept this portal on the more dangerous it was for him. Who knows what the GIW was seeing on their end- if he gave them enough time they might just pinpoint his apartment . 

Danny sighed at the loss as he closed the portal and shut it down- a piece of him going along with it. 

.

.

.

“Jason- you’ll never guess who I just saw.”

“Who?”

“Phantom, he’s back, and he’s coming towards you .”

Chapter Text

Danny was on edge. He had managed to build a few weapons on the side during the process of the portal, but it wasn’t enough to stand against the GIW. He had altered the originals to work against humans, and especially well against ecto-contaminated individuals and liminals. It did damage to ghosts, but he tried to keep it to a minimum. The ecto weapons previously didn’t hurt humans too badly, only a slight burn or sting, though the severity would increase depending on the level of contamination. Of course, their true purpose was to harm ghosts, but Danny wasn’t in engineering and biochemistry for nothing. 

Before he set out in his Phantom Thief attire, he had stuffed every weapon somewhere in his build or in his clothing. He had to talk to Hood. He had taken the ectoplasm from the portal and diluted it to be as weak as possible. He had set up multiple vials, all varying degrees of concentration. They were in a special casing that was lined with lead. He placed the case within his back. The final thing he packed was a gun. Hood’s gun. 

Danny left his home with full intention of meeting the other, and he knew it wouldn’t be pretty. He knew about the effects, but at the time what could he have done? He knew the other was alive, he could feel it, but there was no way he hadn’t suffered from eating away at Danny’s ectoplasm. 

Hood wasn’t at fault. He wasn’t purposefully draining the halfa, but still, it happened, and they both suffered for it. Danny couldn’t hold the other at fault for it, even if the halfa was the one who almost died. Hood was clueless, he had no information, and Danny had been made painfully aware of that fact over the time of the portal's creation. The aura of the haunt was exuding pain, rather than wrath. The suffering was palpable- tangible, even- to Danny. 

Did he feel horrible? Yes, yes he did, but he was going to fix it. He had to. So he wasn’t going to complain against any reaction shot at him (even if it was an actual bullet). That final thought of conviction is what led him to the rooftops of Crime Alley, spreading his aura as far as he could in order to find the other, and once he had, he set out. 

.

.

.

Ouch. What a welcome he got. Once again, a bullet to the shoulder. Color him surprised, that was totally on the bottom of the list of reactions he had expected from the other. Seriously, what was with Hood and shooting him in the shoulder? This was like the 6th time, it was getting ridiculous. 

“Finally show your face, huh, Phantom?”

And didn’t that name make him feel even worse about what he’s done. 

“I’m sorry to inform you, but you’re about 3 weeks late on your appointment. You don’t get one now.”

Danny winced.

“L̷̡̻͗ǫ̶̭̜̋͆͘ò̷̩̤̓̄ͅḱ̴̡̋͊-̵̝̺̅ ̶̧̤̀Ị̶͍̀̇͘ ̵̯̙̾̊̿k̷͈͂n̸̲͓̿̎͜͝ȏ̷̡̟̞w̶̬̽̓͠ ̵͇̄̀Į̴̛ ̵̛̱̱͆͂m̷̢̱̤̊ī̷̤s̶̖̻̽͜s̸̤̖̓̅ḙ̵͓̔̍d̷̡̙̀̆͜ ̴͉͑̾͆ͅi̷̡̫̺̒̚ţ̸͎̩͛͒͌,̶̥́ ̷̘̱͇̈́I̴̜͑̃̃ ̶̧̺̪̔͛w̶̱̰͗̔̕a̶̺̽͛̿s̵͙̹̒͊…̷̞̞̃ ̵̞̓͘ͅô̵̱͜c̷̡̣͉͋̅̍c̷̘͍͓̓u̶͉͇̽̓̀p̴͙͕͆ī̸͚̭̪e̵̛͚̕͝d̸̬̯̱̆́͝.̴̰̤̇” (Look- I know I missed it, I was… occupied.)

“Hah! Occupied. Yeah, sure.”

The gun stayed on him, unwavering and steady. Danny could hear the other cock the gun, readying it for the second shot. Luckily, the bullet that hit was rubber, this meant he may have a chance. 

“Y̷̬͆̑o̷̹̬̐̑͜u̵̧͙͗ ̸̢̳̈̃ẇ̸͍̟̆̚ͅé̶͚̗̱ŗ̷͖̐͌e̶͔̽̿͝ ̸̫͛̄͌ṣ̸̢̓̀̊i̸̼̣͛c̸͇͆k̷̙̰̬̉̒ ̴̡̹̑r̵̛̲̈́i̴͎̙̫̓̕g̵̟͇̀́͜h̷͉̑̈͝ţ̵͕̞̀?̸͖͓̏́̓” (You were sick right?)

“Hah- sick? You son of a bitch-”

“I̶̘͈͊̒̕ ̵͍̯͍͗͗k̸̛̦͈̥͗n̷̳̑͠o̴̪̼̓͑w̷͓̥̝̃!̷̧̿̃ ̴̼͈̥̋̒̓I̴̧̧͙̓ ̸͘͘͜k̵̛̮͗͝ͅǹ̸̞̥͖͛̍ŏ̸̮͜w̴̩̺̖͊̐,̷̩͍̘̀̓͘ ̶̯̀́̓I̴̠̗̟̅́́ ̸̛̥̰̜͊͘k̸̺̲̿ͅn̴͕̹̹͑̍ǒ̵̧͙ẁ̵̬̀̚ ̵̥̝̏a̶̟͂̓̊n̷̜̻̓̐̚͜d̵͔̜̋ ̴̱̣̮̀̾I̷̺͚͆͝͠’̶̧̬̘̉̈́̋m̸̡͖͝ ̷̢̯̗̆͆̇s̸̩̺̘̏̾͝o̶̠̓̍ ̴̠̇ŝ̶͇͚̤̀͠o̶͎͎͐͑̚ ̵͎̲̼̽̇̏s̵̤̰̖̈́̋ȏ̵̺ͅr̴͇̐͝r̷̨̦̤̊y̷͙̠̒͋ ̷̠̥͎̈́H̸̨̯͎̑̐͘ő̴̯̩̤͒̊o̷̰̬̣̅́d̵͉̭̆͠” (I know! I know, I know and I’m so so sorry Hood)

The gun stayed on its target, on him. 

“Y̴̲̤̓̆ò̶͍̞u̵̢̜͎͌̐̆ ̶͕͝ẉ̵̝̗͒̚ę̴͓͇͛̋r̸̬̫͖̅ẻ̸͗̓͜ ̶̗͖̏͋h̴̺̽a̸̩̍̐͝ṿ̸͕͝͠ỉ̷̧̦̆͜n̶̖͙͚͑g̷͖͊̉ ̴̧͓͊s̶̺̄͘ý̶͓̄m̴͇͔͌p̷͎͈̐t̷͖͔̐̇͑͜o̸͔͊ṁ̸͍͚̈́s̷̝̟̪̄͋ ̴͓̱̈́̕o̷͙̜͋̽ͅf̷͕͐͋͘͜ ̷̺̫̃̑͝w̶̘̾̓͠í̴͜t̵̩͓͕̅h̴͓̰̳͊̀d̷̠̾̆̉r̷̺̱̹̄ą̷̘̗̽̈́̄ẃ̶̢á̶̤̘l̶̢̢̀.̶̰̘̍” (You were having symptoms of withdrawal.)

“Withdrawal? From what?”

“A̷̭̫̒͑c̵̭̊ͅh̵̤͔̏͝e̴̺̓́ṡ̵̖͙͖͌̄,̴̣̈ ̸̞̖̳̊ṕ̷̯a̸͔̚i̸͇̟̱̾n̵̩̿̽̈́ș̷̃̕͜,̴̪̗̿̂̿ ̵̜̖̀s̸̫̽͠h̷̜̖̒̈́i̶̮̺̥͂͋̄v̶̛̻̒é̸̮͎͉r̸̥̳͌͒ĭ̶͉͆n̴̢̧̩̈g̶̠͇͒͝,̷̙̠̮̿̎̕ ̴͔͑̏c̴͎̻̑h̷̻̗͌͋i̵̙̽̾̚l̶͇̒͘l̴̲̜̐̿̏s̸͍̖̏͐,̶͉̃̿̊ ̶̭̅̊c̶̼͔̬̽̽͝ö̷̺͓̲l̶͚̟̤̒d̵̻̻͎͒̏ ̵̠̗̓͒š̷̻̭w̶̘̃͒e̶̢̝̺̒ą̶̧̙̃t̴̘͍̮́̈̋s̴̛̫̑̑,̵̨͐͊̉ ̶̹̜̉́f̶̘̎̈́̍è̶̞͔̻v̸͚̄͒e̸̜̊̉r̸̢͈̽̕s̸̢̍͗͜,̵̙̒͆ ̵̧̗̈̒ͅẗ̶̯́̑h̶̥͈͈̿̍́r̵̪̂̚ò̸̭͊w̴̰͊̾i̶̳̩̼̚n̶̠̥̑̎g̶͖͓̍ ̶̟̃͆̃ủ̵̱p̸͔̦̺̈́͐,̸̛͓̜͉̉͘ ̵̺̓̕ã̷̗̃n̵͍̍̀́d̴̡̰̈́̀͝ ̴̢̛̭͊͠l̵͕̥̀̂̚a̴̘͉͒̂s̵̭͔̓͛̄t̸̞͗͜͠l̷̹̟̃̐͊y̸̤͉͙̓̒͝…̴̛͎̆̀ ̴̥̈́̂͝h̴̰̃̚ã̷̧̎̋l̸̺̖̔̉l̸̯̒̐͆ù̴̪̻̘̈́̚c̸̮̯̒ï̴̲̒n̵͓̝̓̏á̷̡̰̏ͅt̶̟͘í̵̝͉̎o̷̟͒ṅ̵̤̺̙̂s̸̢̡̗̐.̶̢̛̥̥̈́” (Aches, pains, shivering, chills, cold sweats, fevers, throwing up, and lastly… hallucinations.)

The gun faltered.

“So you did know, huh? Then why?”

Danny could hear the betrayal in the other’s voice, could practically feel it. 

“Ḯ̴̯̞̤̉͊ ̴̘̋c̸͈͆o̵̜̎̀u̸̗͋͑͝l̷̪̝͘d̷̛̞̋̈́n̶͕̭̤̽̔’̷̛͕̲͑t̵̪̏ ̵̳̚h̶͓͌̀e̴̤͊̏l̴̦̅p̶̥̈́-̷̝̬͋̑̕ ̷̖̤̀͐̚Í̸͚̜̈́̂ ̷̧̻͙̇̈̑w̶͚͇̐̋̌ǫ̸̩̘̆͋̊u̶͖͓̿l̵̺̯̮̽̂̕d̵̖̿͋ ̷̫͎̹͋̇h̷̜̾͊̚a̸̪̅v̷̜̀̏e̸̖͛ ̷̻̰̈̽m̸̼͛ą̷̏̿d̴̞͍͘ë̶̡͇ ̷̘͇͇́̚î̶̡̛͆ṱ̶̜͌̚ ̶͚͓̆̄ẃ̷͔̹͝o̶͚͒̾r̷̲̟͚̾̂̏s̴̡̨̹̅ẻ̴̻̀͝” (I couldn’t help- I would have made it worse)

“Worse how?”

The gun returned, it stood true but weak. Almost there.

“Ị̶̰̪͗̑̈́ ̷̹̗̬̀̊̚d̷̡̠͖̊̋̆i̶̙̭͗̌͊d̵͎́̔͛ň̶̢̪̞͝’̷͚̓̈͘t̴̩̎̀ ̸̧͙͑̄g̷͕͂̔̊ë̶̝̗t̵͓̳̖́̋̀ ̷̮̍̔ý̶̯̻̰͂o̵̫͜͝ú̶̧̞ ̵͓́͠s̴̜͚͂͌ḭ̵͔͌̓͐c̴̼̑k̸͕̲̮̑,̵͇̾͆̑ ̷̘̙̺̒̎H̶̎͜ǫ̸̱͌o̸̦͖̞͆̅͑d̵͇͝-̵̖̦̯̊” (I didn’t get you sick, Hood-)

“Then who did, Phantom!”

Anger. Anger and betrayal. Danny knew well enough he’d hurt the other, but he had no choice. Any more contact, even a little, would have killed him. Finishing the portal would have become a pipe dream, surviving a week alone would have been a stretch. Hood was shaking, seething, even. Danny couldn’t tell. He remained still, his hands in the air, tired and sore. 

“Ṉ̶̉̆o̶̩͓̥̾ ̵̻̻́͐͘͜o̴̧͆̐́ǹ̵̝̲ė̵̯̃͘ͅ ̷͙̝͌͗͌d̶̬͐́í̵̡͈̞̇̈́d̷̯͊̀-̷̪̻͚́̾͝ ̵̻̳̩͐̓͘ȋ̶̧͙͠ṭ̴̢̈́’̷̫̮͊͌͠s̸̖̓͘͝ ̴̭̭̠̃̾̓n̵̛̗̮͓̏̓o̶̙͕̽̒̒t̸͓̱̆ ̷̹̒s̵̼̗̅́̾ó̶̢̽̈͜m̴̮̺͂è̶̜̇̀ ̴̺̗̺̾̎ḋ̶̖̔̈́ŕ̶̝u̴̳͝g̷͇̗̎̐ ̴͚̤̓̉͗I̵̻͎̔ ̷̨͗c̶͕̒͌ȁ̵̘̩̟ñ̸̨̻̈́̄ ̷̖͇̖̈́i̶̾͆͝ͅn̵͒̎̓͜j̷̺͒̕̚é̸̥̤̹̌c̸̖̤̽̿ț̷̎̎ ̷̻͐y̶̱͝ö̶͖̻́͛̚u̷̢̹͓̐͠ ̷̥̓͐ͅw̷̜̖̾̕í̷̖̇̓t̴͓̓͝h̵͈͐!̷͍͕̯͊̾ ̶̺͐̄͝Ï̷̤̠͉t̴͇͓͆̈̉ ̵̨̥͍͗́j̸͖̮̃̉͘u̵̖̾s̷̪̪̕t̶̛̰͘ ̸͖͆͂h̶͇͍̤̏̍̋ǎ̸̮͑̅p̴̪̺̕͝p̶̢͉͉̀e̷̮͕͍̎̆͐n̸̼̭̦͠e̷̬͝ḑ̵̨͆̐-̵̢̭̟̓̒̄” (No one did- it’s not some drug I can inject you with! It just happened-)

“Don’t bullshit me! I want answers Phantom, no more of these stupid fucking games.”

He hoped the other could feel his guilt like he felt his hurt, his pain. He shouldn’t have left him like that. He should have realized what this meant for the other. He should have figured out what was happening sooner. Why was he stuck time and time again cleaning up after his own messes he caused from his lack of communication? His lack of trust? And yet, Danny knew he was never the one to suffer for it. It would always be those around him, those he cared about, those he loved . Hood was someone he had grown close to, and while he’d never entertain the idea of knowing him long term- those fights, those conversations of wit and banter, were fun . They were a distraction from the responsibility shackling him to the ground. 

Hood had become someone he cared about, whether the halfa noticed it or not, and maybe that’s why the knowledge of the harm he caused the other pained him. 

.

.

.

Jason was tired of this. He was supposed to be angry, furious even, and yet, he couldn’t muster up those same feelings when the cause was right in front of him. A month. A month since he’s seen that mask and every day since he had been searching- looking, even when sick. And now the very bastard just shows up unharmed, unaware, and ignorant to what he’s caused. The trouble Jason went through on his behalf. 

Being angry used to be so easy, rage was felt faster than any bullet he could fire, but now? Now, he couldn't find it within him, and he was just so so tired. 

“Please.”

He found himself asking, and not even the voice changer could hide the crack in his words. Phantom nearly wilted, his hands falling at the word. 

“H̸̩̒o̷͎͎͗̈́ò̶̭̕d̶̢̫͂͝-̷̝̟͍̂ ̴͚̑I̴̫̣̚-̴̳̭͉̊̂ ̶̭̓ͅI̵͔̰͒ͅ ̷̳̫͎́c̵̹̯̅̓ö̷͙́͠ũ̵̯̃̓l̸͍̺̞̾͝ḋ̵͉̊̈́n̷̯͈̯͋̑̕’̴̭͋̐̏ț̸̓̈ ̴̟̩̪́ĉ̶̱͗͜o̷͕̒͊m̵̯̜̈́ė̷̻͐ ̶̛̬̹̻͗â̴̞̓ń̵̼̭d̶̞͊͜ͅ-̷̧̙̱́͋͘” (Hood- I- I couldn’t come and-)

“Why? Why weren’t you there? One month, Phantom! A month! Of not seeing you anywhere!”

The searches he’d done, all under the guise of his job, of getting answers, when both he and Tim knew the truth. Tim himself was concerned, and he’d never met the thief. One month of no sightings, not even on normal cameras. He just vanished, like the ghost his name implies. Gone, like nothing. Like he was nothing.

Phantom’s arms lowered, but Jason’s gun remained. 

“We were supposed to meet 3 weeks ago. Did you do that on purpose? Make me wait a week? Because that’s how long it took the poison to kick in?”

“N̴̡̅̾͐̐̈̀̚ͅô̷̹̜̥̫͈̪!̵̨̾͗̀͂̕” (No!)

The distortion in his voice crackled, becoming near painful to the ears, but Jason didn’t waver. He was a vigilante, trained by Batman , he better start acting like it. 

“Then what, Phantom? Huh? Where were you!? Where were you after-”

“I̴̝̖͇̖͛ͅ ̵̹͛̿̅w̵̪̘̒a̵͉͙̰̯̋͌͐̔̋s̸͉̖̥̞̖͑͒ d̵̨͇̣͈̥̱̬̗̰̖̾͜y̶̢̧̪̤̰͚͙̼̮͙̗̲̌͘ĩ̵̬̇̐̀̑͛̾͛̋͘ǹ̵͚̗̠̻͎̪̝̉͋͘̕͠g̷̹̳͍͂̈̈́̏̏͆̉̅̐̏͝!̴̟̭̪̙͖͌͋̅ͅ ̵͙̻̮̳͍̈́̏̚” (I was dying!)

What?

“What?”

His hands shook, he knew it did, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The strength and determination leaving his body at those words. Words that sounded wounded and forced, and with the way Phantom flinched at them, he wasn’t meant to say it. Jason lowered his gun, but not voluntarily, he just didn’t have it in him.

“Dying? Phantom, what are you talking about?”

“ Ì̴͍͑-̵̨͖̓͌ ” (I-) 

And then Phantom ş̶̰̣̐̾̈́c̵͓̀͒r̷̺̤̺̓̽e̴̝͊̒̏a̷̛̫͚̎̽͜m̸̛͇̉̑e̸̳̫͉͋̃d̵͔̜̔̈̽ .  

Jason winced, dropping his gun and covering his ears as Phantom collapsed to the ground. He hadn’t seen it coming, barely having time to react. Phantom laid on the floor, clutching his side, whimpering in pain. Jason could see practical smoke rising from his skin, the wound red and burning, and the smell- no. 

He rushed to the thief’s side, instantly looking around for the assailants. Upon the rooftop across from them stood two figures, arms raised and aim ready. 

.

.

.

Mom? 

Danny sat up, clutching his side tightly. In front of his eyes were two figures he’d recognize anywhere. His parents. They were alive, and right there, and- and pointing guns at him. Wait, ecto guns? But he wasn’t Phantom at the moment- not the ghost one-

“I got him honey!”

His ears had to be playing tricks on him- there was no way, because if they weren’t, then that was his mother’s voice ringing in his ears.

“Don’t let him get away! That piece of ghost scum must pay for what he did to our Danny!”

What? What he did to their Danny? But he’s Danny. They wouldn’t say that unless- no- no way- they couldn’t. 

“Shoot again, Mads! He has a friend! That monster!”

He was shaking. Oh no- oh no- oh no oh no. There was no way- this had to be some sick joke. His parents were gone. They all knew the odds. 

“First he kills our boy! And now he dares to use his body!”

One, two, three shots fired. One managed to get him in the arm. He couldn’t find it in himself to even scream. He was frozen, stuck. This couldn’t be happening. No way- he refused to believe it.

They knew. They knew and they hated him and they wanted him dead and, and, and- 

They knew he was Phantom.

They thought he killed Danny.

But he was Danny.

Right?

.

.

.

“Phantom! Get it together!”

Jason cursed as he grabbed one of his back up guns and fired, managing to shoot the smaller one, he tried for another but the man next to them covered them. He shot the other in the back, but there was no movement. 

He tried to catch a small look at Phantom, but he wasn’t faring any better. The attackers moved closer and now Hood could get a good look. Two people, one male, one female, had a large difference in size, and wearing brightly colored suits. The woman raised her gun and fired a few more times, her partner doing the same. Hood tried his best to shield the other- but then a shot was close to him, far too close for him to dodge and not get hit. 

Jason flinched back, ready for the pain- but it never came. Phantom laid flat on top of him, his chest facing him. He was muttering, words Jason could barely catch with its volume.

“No… no, no no”

There was no voice changer. Another blast whipping past him let him know now wasn’t the time to even think about Phantom’s voice. 

“Dead- gone”

Jason cursed under his breath- Phantom was too injured to stay here and arrest the pair. He sent a distress signal to Tim and made haste in picking the other up, carrying him over his left shoulder and aiming back with his right.

A blast hit him in the shoulder, but he grit through the intense pain and fired his last rounds, managing to hit each of the two at least once more. His next stop? The nearest safe house he had.

.

.

.

Jason nearly collapsed to the floor once he set the other down on his couch. He took off his helmet (there was a domino underneath), and ran his hands through his hair. What the fuck just happened? 

He got up and walked to his bathroom, retrieving the extensive med kit underneath the sink and returned. Phantom was frozen still, when had he moved? He sat with his knees to his chest, mumbling and staring off into a distance. He was hyperventilating.

Jason cursed before rushing over, dropping the med kit on the floor near the couch and rushing to the other. He sat next to him and tried talking.

“Phantom!”

No dice.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… why? Why?”

Jason was ashamed to admit it, but hearing his actual voice was a bit of a shock- though he didn’t let it deter him. 

“No no- wasn’t me- he’s fine I promise”

He was losing him.

“Phantom, can you hear me?”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry- should’ve been me- me- sorry”

He was shaking, shivering in place but sat so still. Okay, maybe Jason was worried. 

“Phantom! Phantom.”

He grabbed the thief’s shoulder- if he didn’t calm him down soon he could bleed out- or pass out. He gently rubbed the others upper back in circles, trying to ground him back down. The mumbling was slower, less often, but present. Jason kept his movements, sitting a bit closer.

“I’m sorry… how? Me… I’m me…. No….”

Well that totally wasn’t concerning. 

“Phantom? Ghost Face?”

A pause. 

“Ghost Face- I need you to calm down. Can you breathe with me?”

The mumbling stopped, but he was still hyperventilating and it was getting to Jason. He’d never been good at things like this- Dick was, but he couldn’t exactly call the other, now could he? 

“I’m right here, and I want to help, but I need you to breathe . Can you do that Ghost Face?”

He didn’t stop rubbing circles and other shapes on his back, but he did move a little closer, their shoulders and thighs were touching. 

“There ya go Ghostie, c’mon, I know you got this.”

The breathing slowed down , but he was still staring off into space. Jason had to patch him up, but he couldn’t if he wasn’t movable. The quicker he calmed the other down, the sooner Jason could attend to his injuries. 

.

.

.

Why were they there? Weren’t they missing? Had he not been searching enough? Had he not been enough?

Danny tried to calm himself down. He knew- he knew he wasn’t doing okay- that he was having a panic attack. He was breathing but no air was getting into his lungs- he needed to just calm down , but he couldn’t . 

What was happening?

How- how did they know?

No- bad thought process, he corrected himself. He needed to just calm down . Someone was rubbing his back, and someone was touching his sides. He wasn’t alone, but who? Danny allowed himself to bask into the comfort and into the warm voice. Warm voice? Who- 

Danny stopped right there. It was comforting, he wasn’t alone, he could question later. He wasn’t alone, he wasn’t at fault, now if only he could just calm down . He knew what was happening- but his heart was racing far too fast and his breathing was far too shallow and he couldn't stop. He couldn't control himself. He needed to just control himself.  

“Breathe, Ghostie, I’m right here. Please-”

In. Out. In. Out. Danny tried to focus- focus on himself, on his lungs, on his heart. He knew what was happening, so he could help, but his limbs were stuck and his body was in pain and he just wanted to rest . Why couldn’t he rest? 

In. Out. Slow.

In. Out. 

In. Out.

“Come on, just a few more times. You got this. I’m right here.”

Right. He’s not alone. 

In. Out.

He could do this. Not breathing wasn’t hard- he did it all the time, but this was different. Why was it different?

“Almost there.”

He sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head on his knees. He let himself take a few deep breaths, letting the darkness console him. He could think a little more clearly now. 

His parents- no- the Fentons, knew who he was. That means they knew that Danny and Phantom (the ghost hero) were one in the same. Ancients, he was so screwed. He was going to die- they were going to kill him. This time for good-

“You there? Ghost-”

Danny raised his head so fast it made the other flinch.  He looked over at the man next to him. Who was that? 

…

Oops.

“Ow, shit! Calm down, Spooks, I just helped you!”

Danny may have freaked at the unfamiliar face and punched him- hard. He did feel kind of bad. He let himself calm down and realized that the man next to him was indeed in fact the Red Hood… who he just punched… in the face. That signature sign of death was specific to the vigilante- no way Danny wouldn’t recognize it. 

“God, why did you do that?!”

Danny flinched back.

“Shit, sorry, sorry-”

Right, Danny was supposed to speak-

“So-”

Voice changer! That was his real voice oh no-

“S̷̛͇̲ͅo̴̪̹̔r̷̝̈́͛͘ŗ̶͖̈́y̵̩̬͌.̷̧͍̿̈” (Sorry.)

“No point in that distortion thing, you were mumbling the whole way here. I know what you sound like.” 

Whole way here? And now Danny finally let himself take in his surroundings. He was on something soft, the lights were dim, and the place was- was this an apartment? 

“Here?”

Danny threw away the whole ghost speak thing, no point. To hell with it if his voice was already heard. He was too mentally exhausted anyways to care.

.

.

.

“Here?”

“One of my safe houses-”

“This is an apartment.”

“One of my safe houses.”

Oh sue him. He was kind of worried and the closest place to him happened to be one of his many apartments. This one just happened to be his most used apartment, because that was indeed Flora the couch they were sitting on. Still, the med kit he kept here was the largest one he owned, and it was always fully stocked (he blamed his brothers for that), so it was no surprise really. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Can you just move so I can patch you up? You’re getting blood on Flora-”

“Flora?”

Ghost Face tilted his head. 

“... the couch? Hood, you named your couch Flora ?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just move.”

Ghost Face slowly unwrapped himself from the ball he was in, but it seemed too rigid. Something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“Why are you moving like that? Your hand and feet aren’t moving.”

“Oh… it does that.”

“What?”

What does that even mean? Jason picked up the med kit and opened the latches. He rested it against the coffee table and picked out what he needed.

“When I have… those-”

“Panic attacks?”

“Those, yes. My limbs freeze up solid. It’ll go away.”

Jason looked down at the other’s hand. It was stuck in an awkward position, the thumb bent inside the palm, and the pointer and middle finger being held higher and a bit bent in comparison to the remaining two. His feet weren’t even touching the ground correctly, his heels being the only one making contact with the wood as the balls of his feet were raised.

“It looks uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.”

Jason nudged the other to turn around and show his back. Those injuries were worse than the one on his other arm. Jason didn’t know how he managed to miss some of the shots that hit him. There was the original one from his side, one on each arm, one on his left shoulder, and his back. Though, when Ghost Face turned around, he was expecting one shot, not three. 

“It’s not. Do you see yourself right now?”

“Oh let me just take out my eyes and throw em around, Hood. Of course I can’t see myself.”

He’s glad Ghost Face had seemed to cheer up a bit. The distraction proved useful. He should really take more care of Flora.

“It’s a figure of speech ghost boy-”

“Ghost boy? Really? You don’t see me calling you zombie kid.” 

Jason rolled his eyes, though it couldn’t be seen from the whites of his domino mask.

“Can you take off your shirt?”

“Take me to dinner first-”

Jason rolled his eyes once more. He almost wanted to grin, smile even, but he refused to give the other the satisfaction.

“Phantom.”

He said instead.

“Yeah, yeah, give me a second. I don’t want any comments though.”

Comments? He almost wanted to question, but it was caught in his throat when he saw the pure amount of marks on the other. Scars- though they looked a bit different, and far too faded. The wounds there were large and circular, with uneven spikes along the edges. Injuries from an energy blast, much like the current wounds they sported. There were more of course, slashes and different marks of all kinds. Jason couldn’t even tell what was the cause, but he knew some were years old. 

“They’re from weapons like the ones you saw earlier.”

“What-”

“They’re specific to my kind. Which is why they don’t heal correctly.”

“Your kind ?”

“Your kind too. You’re one of us.”

He said it almost as if it was obvious. Jason paused as he was cleaning the wounds. What?

“One of you- you mean dead?”

Ghost Face hissed as Jason left the alcohol pad there a little too long. 

“Sorry- sorry.”

“Well yeah. You died right? These weapons are specifically made for the people of the dead, though it hurts you way less than it hurts me.” 

Jason frowned, pausing his ministrations for a moment before picking back up, placing the bloodied pads to the side. 

“You’re telling me it hurts more than that?”

“You were shot?”

Ghost Face turned around, looking over him. He could just tell the movement snagged on his wounds painfully. Luckily, the bleeding had stopped quite a bit ago.

“My shoulder- it’ll be fine.”

He ignored Jason and just rummaged through the med kit, grabbing saline solution, burn creme, scissors, and bandages. The vigilante didn’t even have time to argue before there were hands on him. It seemed Ghost Face’s hand was back to normal, no longer caught in that uncomfortable position. His feet, however, remained the same.

“You’re the one who needs this medical attention, not me”

He was ignored. Ghost Face carefully cut around the wound under his shirt and jacket. There was no point, the blast had fried the fabric, most of it being gone entirely. He had to replace them entirely, still, he was thankful for the care. 

“You were shot 7 times, Ghostie, I only got it once. Now turn around.”

He tried to fight off the thief, but there was now strength present that wasn’t there before. Jason sighed and succumbed to his fate. 

“You’re too human-”

“You’re bleeding out!”

“I can heal.”

Jason didn’t move, and that was totally of his own volition and not because the other was holding him down by the arm with one hand. 

“That doesn’t mean you let injuries like that go untreated.”

“But it won’t go untreated. You’re here aren’t you?”

And if that didn’t shut Jason up. God, Tim was going to have a field day with this. He can already hear the annoying nagging from the other. 

“There. All done. Now you can do whatever you want, but I’m really fine.”

Ghost Face turned back around and brought his legs up.

“Your feet are still stuck in place.”

Jason returned to his job, picking up the remaining supplies and getting back to work. 

“I told you that happens. It wears off.”

“Your hand was fine.”

“I was massaging it to calm it down.”

“Is it common to your race?”

“No. It’s a human thing, it’s just specific. I’ve never seen it.”

“So how do you know it’s not a dead-but-not thing?”

“Does that happen to you?”

“... no. No it- it doesn’t. My panic attacks are a little more-”

“Ah… I get it.” 

Did he? For some reason, Jason felt that he did. 

And just like that the two fell into familiar conversation, with Ghost Face answering a little more questions than asking. 

.

.

.

He really should have known better, because on his coffee table lay a thin wooden case with a gun on top. 

And no sign of the Phantom Thief himself. Typically.

Chapter Text

The computer screen started to flash a pop up of bright green, a sound of a siren playing along with it. Tucker jumped up from his bed, nearly hitting his head on the back board as he scrambled to his… work room. 

“What the hell?”

He scrambled over to his embarrassingly pricey chair and sat down, swiveling it to face the screen. An almost aggressive window was blaring a new update. His scan of the GIW proved useful, but what were they up to now? 

Three quick taps was enough to access their recent data records. A large source of ectoplasm popped up in Gotham. Gotham. The same Gotham Danny was in. 

Shit.

Okay, okay Tucker can handle this. An energy signature like that- that had to be a portal right? Danny could give it off, sure, but he’s never had to let out that much power before. Either way the GIW had his location. A portal opening could only be Danny, no one else knew how to create it, but that brought the question of why did he create it. Tucker continued to mumble profanities under his breath as he worked into the GIW’s systems, tracking to see if any agents were sent. 

Cameras, door passcodes, everything he could monitor he checked, even each vehicle brought in and out. And through this checking, is what made him pause.

Because those weren’t two random agents, no, why would it be? He’d recognize those builds anywhere, those brightly colored hazmat suits engraved in his eyes. Jack and Maddie Fenton. His best friend’s parents who disappeared two years ago. Tucker was going to kill someone. 

.

.

.

Sam had been in her apartment. Her studying botany and biochemistry had taken a chunk of her time. College was rough, but at least she didn’t have ghost attacks every damn class period, she didn’t know how Danny managed. Oh right, he didn’t. 

She sighed as she slumped down on her swinging chair. She missed her idiots. They got her in  a lot of trouble, and she hated how much meat Tucker ate, but still. They were her first and only friends since she moved to Amity, hard to replace them, impossible even. The salad on the counter sat untouched as the goth took out her phone. Her account has gotten quite the following, she’s been working on it since senior year of highschool. The posts mainly consist of spreading awareness and such, but sometimes it goes into fashion, her life, and even her expert take on some super hero fights in the area. Her opinions are very strong, always have been, and Sam is honestly proud of herself for sticking to it. 

Just as she was about to take a bite of her lunch on the table, her phone dinged, and no, not the phone in her hand, the phone she kept on her TV stand so that she could hear it from everywhere in the house. The phone she exchanged with Danny, Tucker, Jazz, and Dani. The phone that meant a ring was trouble.

Sam jumped up from her seat, throwing her phone to the side and leaving her salad on the table. She can’t remember the last time she ran that fast towards something. She scooped up the phone, unlocking it as quickly as she could with her shaking hands and frantic eyes.  

TooFineTuck

I need your help with something

It’s Danny

They found him

“Who? What? Fuck.”

Sam cursed as she typed her reply, barely bothering to correct the typos. She hasn’t heard from either of her best friends in years, since highschool. 

GothicGreenPlant

What hapened?

Scratch that

Waht do you need me to do

TooFineTuck

How open are u to the idea of exposing the GIW and what happened in Amity on ur public account?

GothicGreenPlant

Already planning a post

How big does this have to be

TooFineTuck

I want the American Government on blast

Sam quickly ran to her room and retrieved her laptop, opening the server they made Junior year to be more secure. Tucker sent through multiple images and reports. She’d have to analyze all of them later, already she was typing out an email to call out of work. 

TooFineTuck

Danny’s been found by the GIW

Sam

She held her breath.

TooFineTuck

I found his parents

And just like that everything crashed around her. She collapsed, sitting down on her bed. Danny’s parents- no way- they couldn’t be. She shook her head. Impossible, no way, she was there when Danny found out, hell- all of them were minus Dani. They searched everywhere . 

TooFineTuck

There’s more

But i explained it all in the reports

Its a lot sam

Sit down

All this time and Tucker still knew her like the back of his hand. She let out a shaky breath, she was going to strangle that ghost boy. 

The reports were organized, something she’d never expect from her techno friend, but this was important. Sam let her eyes scan, reading thoroughly and not missing a single line. She allowed herself to digest the information. 

Danny destroyed the portals and erased everyone’s memory of it, but they know he knows how to build the portal. Well, phantom knows how to build the portal. Danny proceeded to go on the run, and each time they’d find him he’d change states and restart until he eventually landed in Gotham which concealed him well enough.

Danny was still running. It was naive of them to think otherwise, to think that once the portals were closed all their problems would be gone. No ghosts, no ghost hunters. Danny realized what they failed to, and he was suffering for it. The idiot was dealing with this on his own . He was running off all over the country avoiding everything and everyone for what? 

Sam hated how she knew he was doing it to protect them. Sam hated how she knew that they were the cause of it. They cut contact, they were the ones to spread out, to leave him. Danny’s choice ? More like he had to, more like it was what was handed to him. 

Only one report was on Danny and how he’s been living for the past 2 years, the rest, however, was on the GIW. Everything they’ve done, everything they plan to do, what they own and what they’ve made. It was so extensive, Tucker even had every single one of their sponsors by name. She had the list of every employee that has ever worked there or worked with them- hell the only thing she didn’t have in her hands was the boss himself. Though the old head had his own page. 

It was insane. The anti-ecto acts alone were something they hadn’t dealt with in Amity, and it didn’t seem like something they could’ve dealt with even if they tried. They were teenagers. Two painfully human, and one a fugitive with powers. Some group they were. Tucker even had information on the grid block they had on Amity and ghosts in general. 

If they wanted to go public, they’d have to take down their systems, and only at the same time of Sam’s confession. If they wanted to get this done, they had to do it right. First thing, they needed a script.

GothicGreenPlant

Tuck, got a script for me?

TooFineTuck

Honesty on the table, don’t include your personal involvement yet, stick to the story line our classmates would have

Speak of the Fentons, and how we knew their son

Don’t talk about the incident

Say Danny was a ghost supporter and that he knew Phantom closely 

Let them make their own assumptions as long as they dont piece together what Danny is

GothicGreenPlant

Got it.

No halfa business, insist that ghosts are the dead and sentient

Full drama

Full emotional works

Stick to the truth, but ease in 

Proof

We need proof tuck

TooFineTuck

Oh I’ll give them proof.

Here’s what we’re gonna do, you trust me?

.

.

.

Barbara banged her head on the table in front of the bat computer. She thought that if she used this setup instead of her own, she’d get further on the case, but no- nothing, nada, zilch. She was going to scream. Currently, she had multiple programs running in the background for just about anything she could: Vlad Masters, Axiom Labs, Vlad.co, hell even everything to do with Amity Park. They have been in use for weeks now, all with no progress. 

Maybe she should just move on, try and find something else to do. All her current cases were complete. The bats were on look out for Two Face after his recent escape from Arkham, but he hadn’t made any moves yet. It was worrisome, indeed, but Barbara had already pin pointed his general location so all she needed now was for them to make contact later tonight. 

A ping caught her off guard. 

There was new information on Amity Park, mentioned in a… live? She clicked through the link and was presented with an instagram video. A girl, young adult, late teens to early twenties, wearing a black crop top with purple designs, hair short and shaved on one side. A quick search led this to be Samantha Manson, an activist and protestor using her platform to spread awareness. Home town, Amity Park, Illinois- gotcha. 

“Try it, search up Amity Park and try to find out anything past the state it’s in, talking to all the hackers out there. I know some of you follow me. I’ll give you five minutes.”

Barbara grumbled at the direct hit. 

“Can’t do it right? You’re free to continue trying, but it’s not going to happen. Amity park is under a special government blockade. No amount of trying or special tricks will get you in, well, without the right equipment that is.”

The chat was spamming messages at her, she ignored them.

“I’ll answer any and all questions later, but first I’d like to explain. I grew up in Amity Park alongside my two best friends, Tucker Foley and Danny Fenton. Now, sounds pretty normal right? A small town in the middle of butt fuck no where Illinois, but no- we had ghosts , and not the shitty halloween decoration kind.”

Sam took a few steps back, letting her TV screen show. She turned it on and a video started playing, it was pure destruction. A man- no- a robot? He was destroying buildings, shooting at the ground with green energy blasts. People were screaming and running frantically. The worst part was that the video looked real . 

“This is real footage from my hometown, attacks like that happened multiple times a day, for 3 years. He is an example of what we call ghosts, and his name was Skulker.”

She pressed another button and the video changed, another attack, but this one was by a different being.

“Why only 3 years you ask? Because the portals were closed. 6 years ago when I was 14 a portal to the infinite realms, more known as the ghost zone, opened in my best friend’s basement. The ghosts came through there, and wreaked havoc for 3 years before he managed to help close them. I’d like to put it out there that not all ghosts are bad. Just the ones that came through. In fact, only like 10 of em ever caused trouble- some were friends of Phantom, the ghost hero we had. Phantom was the town hero, he fought off the ghosts and would put them back in the zone. He helped Danny out in closing and destroying all the portals.”

All? Barbara made sure to record the live, as well as take notes on her own. This was well past her expertise, meaning she’d need to make use of Batman’s contacts with magic users. 

“There were 3 portals. One in Danny’s basement, one privately owned, and one owned by… the GIW. The GIW were a government organization specialized in the capture, eradication, and experimentation of all ghosts- including the nice ones. The anti-ecto acts, another thing I’m imploring you all to research. Just try.” 

And Barbara did. Not a single mention of it. She knew it existed, but all leading links would block her from access, and no matter what she did she couldn’t change a thing. 

“The anti-ecto acts consider all beings with ectoplasmic levels as non-sentient and as property of the government.”

Sam took a shaky breath, her eyes closing before she looked back at the camera and spoke. The screen behind her turned off, cutting the footage of the various destruction that occurred within the town. 

“ That includes me . ”

Chapter Text

Danny cursed as he stumbled through his home, his bandages bleeding through. The room was spinning and he felt all light headed. Bad signs, truly. He rushed towards the room in the back of his apartment, the one he transformed to hold the portal. His arm remained ever so tight over his chest. His back felt like it was on fire and his body ached as if he really was long dead. There was only so much his risen corpse could take.

The pain was almost maddening. How he had escaped Hood’s apartment was beyond him. The bandages kept his blood to himself at least. The wrapping had been a pretty damn good job on the vigilante’s part, he was impressed. The whole thing gave him flashbacks to being with Jazz. When he was this injured, when his pain was unbearable and he couldn’t even grab the supplies from under his bed, Jazz had been there. She wasn’t here now, he had to remind himself. He shook himself out of it. 

If he could just sit and rest there, he’d heal up fine. Being that close to Hood tampered with his healing. Danny grit his teeth as he hobbled over to the portal and opened the gates, the ectoplasm leaking through giving him a burst of energy. He let out a content sigh as he slid down against the metal and sat on the floor. 

Soon, he told himself. Soon, when it was all over, he could go in. Soon he’d be able to tell them that it was safe, that no one else would be experimented on, captured, or killed. Take down the GIW, get rid of the laws, and destroy the facilities. He could do that, 100%, easy peasy. 

Yeah right, he wasn’t going to allow himself to fool- well- himself. Soon enough, he could move a little easier, his head a little clearer. Ectoplasm from the zone always did wonders to him, of course their miracles were second to that of ecto-dejecto, a somehow higher concentrated substance of the original thing. His da- Jack did wonders, truly. He couldn’t imagine anyone else seemingly attempting to make a drug only for it to have the complete opposite effect. It was honestly amazing. What was it they said? Poison is medicine if used right?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. Danny didn’t have any of that stuff on it, and making it took way too long for his limited time scale. Granted, it’d probably help a lot, but with how things were currently going, the GIW wouldn’t give him time to cultivate it. Still worth a shot, maybe he could find a way to shorten the time. He’d have to add that to his to-do list. Who knows, maybe it’d help Hood out better than the micro doses.

When he could start actually walking without too much pain or tear, he wobbled over to his makeshift work desk. It really was just a metal door he’d found on top of a filing cabinet and some boxes. He made due with what he could find in dumpsters and landfills, and plus it worked. If it worked, why fix it?

On top were his prototypes, but also the things he’d gotten from Vlad. 6 black cubes and 1 large metal case. Maybe it was about time he’d open it up. 

He’d tried to pry it open before, but he didn’t want to exert too much force and break what's inside. He thought of cutting it open, but alas that was to no avail. There was no key hole he could pick and he couldn’t tell what was in it when he ran his hands through, so no dice there. The only real option was just- using a laser maybe? Could he do that?

Danny checked through all of his projects and items. A prototype for the wrist rays his par- the Fentons made landed on his desk. He could use that, but his dexterity was not the best, especially using his arm and not just his hand. Maybe he could just make a handheld version? Like those laser lipsticks he always saw in the movies with Sam and Tucker. Sam always wanted one, and when she’d gotten the wrist ray she’d practically gone crazy with it- Paulina’s burnt hair was testimony enough. 

He laughed at the memory as he tinkered with the gadget, taking it apart and piecing bits back together. He’d taken one of his metal cased pens and replaced the ink with the original wiring of the wrist ray. It was an easy change, just switching the outer shell of the device itself. Soon enough, his little danger pen was finished.

Danny hummed as he threw it up in the air and caught it again, the weight was fine. He tested it on some stray metal he had lying around. All he had to do was click the top and it should activate, continuously going until he turned it off once more. The first test was a bummer, the second slightly better, but the third was perfect. He finally had a working laser pen, name pending.

Now was the real thing. He grabbed one of the black boxes and placed it in front of him, he breathed in slowly before turning on the pen and trying it against the pristine outer layer. He really should have worn glasses or something, what if it reflected and hit him in the eyes?

No matter, because it worked . The sides were sizzling and smoke was coming from the box as Danny angled his hand lower and lower with each passing second. He took his time, intent on making sure the contents within remained untouched and unharmed. If it was a bomb he was so thoroughly screwed, but luckily it wasn’t. He thinks. He hopes.

After about 5 minutes of panicked cutting, he had gotten an entire side off. Danny blew away the lingering smoke and cleared his table. If it did look like it’d blow up, he’d just use an ecto-shield to contain the explosion. He hoped that’d work- oh well, no going back now. He carefully peeled off the detached side and dusted off any remaining scraps or dust. Pure padding. The inside had that black styrofoam (?) thing. A bunch of fabric together to cushion whatever was inside. 

Danny took his scissors and started to gently cut bits out one at a time. Vlad was a tricky bastard, and dealing with anything that had the man’s name on it required precision and patience Danny didn’t usually have. Gotham was changing him, and not just the poisoning thing. 

When he’d finished and finally came across something other than padding, he’d nearly cried in happiness and relief. He’d taken damn near 20 minutes cutting around whatever it was, and he was going to pride himself in it. Of course, his moment was short lived when he’d seen the pure glow the object had. Danny carefully removed his gloves and picked it up as gently as he could. 

It was a ball, a small ball, about the size of a marble, but it was a bit heavy. It was green- ectoplasmic green, if not a little murky or dark. It glowed, but dimly, and it had a special red and purple shine to it that Danny hadn’t seen before. What was it for? 

He put it to the side and grabbed the briefcase by the handle and carefully slid it over in front of him. He could open up the rest of the boxes later now that he knew the laser worked on them. He’d have to run tests on one of them of course. Anything made by Vlad couldn’t be trusted- who knows what it was. 

The case wasn’t particularly heavy, whatever was inside must be light as hell. Then again, Danny’s super strength made him an unreliable tester. He grabbed the pen and clicked it on top of the lock on the case. He couldn’t grab it with his bare hands, but he had pliers that were fairly large so they’d do just fine. 

Maybe he could lessen the power of the laser in order to only cut off the lock, leaving the rest of the case functional. He took apart the pen and switched out the casing for one that twists at the bottom, repeating the process of removing the ink and tip and replacing it with the mechanics of the original wrist ray. He had to alter it a bit to make the power adjustable of course, but it wasn’t too hard. When he’d finish he simply put the pen back together and tested it out on the scrap metal from earlier. Okay, now the real thing. 

He moved over the case and turned the pen on to its lowest setting, going around the keyhole and the code insert, slightly cutting them out without touching the opening mechanism. He took about ten minutes from pure nerves. No word of Vlad and here he was opening the closest clue he’s gotten from him in months. It was frightening almost. 

Danny sighed as he set aside the pen and clicked the button on the case, the locks opening. He was in. He took a shaky breath as he grabbed the handle and willed himself to lift it upwards- and just as fast he dropped it. 

He collapsed to the floor, coughing and aching and rushing away from the case-

Because in there were pure blood blossom flowers , straight from the zone. 

.

.

.

Tim was frantic in his rush over to where Jason left his location. The distress signal was enough to get him zooming out of the cave without telling anyone- he’d deal with Bruce later. For now, he turned off his comms and location and ignored every possible distraction, focusing on getting there as fast as possible. 

When he got there, the place was deserted. The rooftop they were previously on was empty, but the floors had blood on them. Jason and Phantom were nowhere to be seen, but he’d recognize those empty bullet cartridges anywhere. 

Rubber bullets didn’t leave metal casings behind.

Tim started to look around at the surrounding area, completely empty. No one was on the roofs surrounding the area, so what had happened? No suspects, no witnesses, but most definitely a crime. It didn’t make sense for it to be Phantom, but what other options did that leave behind? 

He sighed as he took to inspecting the area. Maybe he’d find something he missed- like the green in the blood on the floor. Random pools and drops of blood were all over the area, concentrated in a specific spot. Tim crouched down and took a sample of the blood. He thought it was blood, the smell, consistency, and main foundations were all the same, but human blood didn’t have specs of bright green. Human blood didn’t have a certain shine- a certain glow . This wasn’t normal human blood- but it certainly wasn’t Jason’s. 

After he collected enough samples and cleaned up any hints of his brother being there, he went to individually check each surrounding building. All the casings were left in a similar area, a line facing either front or back. Considering the placement of each of them individually, Tim guessed the person- or persons- Jason was shooting at was in the front. 

One swing across and he landed on the roof. The flooring looked similar, with blood spots all over but mainly in one area. He took samples of this blood too, painfully human- if not a little weird. It looked much more normal in comparison to the other spots he’d seen, but it still had that itchy feeling in the back of his head. He knew it wasn’t normal- but it wasn’t quite like the greenish blood on the original building. He’d have to identify the owners soon. 

Apart from that, he found a few stray bullets, with one even holding blood on it. Jason had been the one to shoot, it had to be. Tim picked up each individual bullet, separating the ones touched with blood into their own bags. He had a crime scene to clean up, but only after he took as many pictures as he could. He was a photographer at heart of course. 

After about a thousand photos and a lot of patience, Tim had put away the mini cameras he’d hidden on him and went to a safe house he kept in the area. Returning to the manor in order to retrieve the supplies he needed was not possible, he wouldn’t be able to escape once more- at least not easily. He needed to clean up the scene and grab the footage of the area, and then alter it or delete it in order to cover up what exactly happened here. God, he’d even need to go into their individual body cams- and even vocal recordings. 

The amount of work was already making him groan and he hadn’t even started yet. Jason so owes him big time for this. Tim sighed as he hid his bike and entered the building through a back entrance. He kept his supplies hidden well throughout the place, no one knew he had it- not even Bruce. He had other safe houses of course, but this one was different. This one held things no one was allowed to see, it was almost a safe space of sorts, had he ever needed to run away for some reason. 

It was a raggedy old abandoned building that used to be a hotspot for crime, but after a fight with the joker the entrance was blocked off, making the only way in a small hole in the back. The opening was pretty high up, making it near impossible for normal people to get in- at least easily. Tim has had this place ever since he became Red Robin, no problems have arisen since, but even so, he was careful with what he had in here. He made sure to hide everything to the best of his capabilities, and with who he was, that was pretty damn good. 

He hummed to himself as he went up to the second floor janitor's closet. He kept his crime scene clean up supplies in there, pretty on the nose, right? It worked. Plus, people who’d come in here wouldn’t be looking for cleaning supplies, that’s for sure, so what’s the problem with that? 

A quick grab of everything he needed and shoving it in one of the multiple spare backpacks he kept here was enough for him to make his way out and return to the rooftop from earlier. He had some cleaning to do, and then he’d have to pay a visit to his delinquent brother. 

Seriously, he couldn’t stay out of trouble for the life- re-life of him, and didn’t that just drive Tim crazy. 

Chapter Text

Jason sighed as he sat down on the couch. Seriously, here he thought he and Ghost Face had gotten somewhere, only for the guy to disappear again. At least he got his gun back. The vigilante held the weapon in his hand, testing the weight, unloading it, and counting the bullets. A full mag. Jason didn’t know why that made him relieved. He sighed and sunk into the couch, slouching and wallowing in self pity.

He had to collect himself and organize all the information he found out anyways. Phantom hadn’t answered any personal questions, but he did talk about ectoplasm and everything he knew about Jason. Honestly Jason himself was offering more information in conversation. Nothing that would give him away, but he did tell him about the fact he had died as a teen and gotten revived a year later. And it was then that the vigilante spoke of how he’d risen from the grave before he ever touched the pits. How he had woken up in that coffin and clawed his way out before Talia had found him. Not even the ghost himself knew what awoke Jason in the grave. All Phantom could give him were some suspicions, but refused to tell him what they were until he was sure. 

They hadn’t spoken for long. Much of the time they spent together was in silence as Phantom let Jason patch him up. It was hardly uncomfortable all things considered, so much so that Jason refrained from asking the questions that have been in his head for the months they’ve been meeting. Answers came second to Phantom’s wellness of being, something Tim would surely chastise him for later. 

Oh my God Tim. He’d sent in a distress signal in order for Tim to arrive at the scene and capture the two assailants, but haven’t heard from him since and vice versa. He rushed off the couch and to his comm, going onto Tim’s line and calling out to him.

“Red Robin. Red Robin you there? It’s Hood.”

“Jesus Hood where have you been? I come to the scene and no ones here, just a shit ton of blood everywhere. Are you okay? Injured?”

“I got shot, but I’m fine.”

“Don’t tell me this blood is yours-”

“It’s not. It’s Ghost Face’s.” 

“Phantoms- is he okay?”

“Shot 7 times. Left shoulder, each arm, right side, 3 back.”

“Holy shit- and he’s alive ?” 

“These weren’t normal bullets, Red, they were energy blasts. Effective against our kind.”

“Our kind as in-”

“The dead.” 

“So he’s not alive.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Don’t say anything more. No one else is on this line but I’d rather not have to clear out even more audio from what I have to clear from tonight. I’m almost done cleaning up the scene, on both ends. I’ll be on route to you shortly. Where are you?”

“#1”

“Dammit Hood. Alright, on my way. We’ll be talking about this in person.”

“Figured.”

Jason sighed as he placed the comm down and returned to his seat. The case laid on the table the same as before. He hadn’t touched it, even after realizing Phantom was long gone. For some reason, the other knowing his main place of residence didn’t bother him as much as it should have. It didn’t matter though. 

He put the gun to the side and brought the case forward. If this was a bomb, it was going to be really awkward for him. Fuck it. He thought before just flinging the thing open. He had to take a double take at the contents inside. Lazarus water. Vials upon vials of lazarus water. 

He flinched back, standing so fast the table screeched backwards, the gun sliding off and hitting the ground. Jason got as far as he could from the case before he started to pace. He had to just calm down. He could feel the pit rearing its head at him, but he didn’t let it fester towards anything greater. He could control it way better now than before, but it still wasn’t gone. Jason was starting to think that it never would be, but no matter. He’ll take anything he could get. 

He tried the breathing exercises Dick had sent him once over text before giving up on the whole thing and resigning to just sitting on the ground and trying to think happy thoughts. It worked for a bit of time, allowing himself to fall down into memories with his family, but of course, eventually they’d reached a sour turn. If the distinct memory of his first meeting with Tim was anything to go by. Whatever, it worked mostly, so he could take a more analytical approach to what the fuck Phantom left for him. 

Now that he got a closer look, it wasn’t lazarus water, but it wasn’t exactly the pure ectoplasm he was shown before either. It was closer to the real stuff, but duller, each vial a little different than the last, albeit only slightly- very slightly. There was a paper on top of the second side of the vials. He had grabbed it and sat down, moving the table back in place and stiffening up. Who knows what was in the letter. 

Hey Hood,

I know you’ll probably be very pissed off at me when you see me tonight, and I’m very sorry about that. Truth is our bodies? Souls? Things- (idk) don’t really blend well, especially since what I was dunked in is different from you. If I had visited you one more time I’m sure you would have gotten way too sick, and I didn’t want to risk that. I need you alive, sadly. 

Jason huffed a laugh at the last bit. It took quite a lot to kill him. Seems like this was written before Phantom even saw him. This was prepared way in advance. 

Anyways, in here is the start of your treatment plan. There are 12 vials total, and you are to take one every week. Start from the top half and go from left to right, top to bottom. Be very careful you don’t take the wrong one. These are all diluted ectoshots, with each having a different level of concentration. Now, this won’t completely cure you, but it’ll help. Plus it’ll ensure that being in my presence won’t make you sick like that again. We’re going to be seeing each other a bit more now, so I’d prefer if being in my vicinity didn’t kill you. Thank you very much. 

Jason groaned at the instructions before going and grabbing some spare pieces of paper he had and writing them down. On the way he grabbed a couple highlighters and chose to annotate the paper. Highlighting everything he needed to know about the vials in yellow, and information about what happened to him and why he got sick in green. 

Next point. If you ever get sick like how you were before, the symptoms I will be mentioning when I see you, skip the vial for one to two weeks depending on severity. If it gets to the point of hallucinating and passing out for more than 30 minutes skip for 2 weeks. If it is just symptoms of a flu that won’t leave your system after 2 days, skip one week. 

I do warn you that you will feel shitty after each dose. You’re not used to cleaner stuff in your system, think of it like pouring a whole bottle of bleach into sewer water. Doing it like this means you’re attacking it in small parts at a time. Don’t take opioids for a small headache kind of thing. 

God, Jason wasn’t prepared for any of this. He felt like utter shit for the last 3 weeks, he didn’t want to do even a sliver of that. 

Oh, and before I forget you have to take this exactly a week after. Make sure it’s the same day at the same time you cannot do it on every Monday but drink it at 9 am one week and 3 pm the next. You have to be especially disciplined with it. 

Next on the agenda, when you start doesn’t matter, but the sooner the better. If you test it that’s fine and all but make sure not to remove more than 10mL from any of the vials. You need those dosages, and that's the max you can lose for the best product. I put in exactly 10 mL extra to each vial, so be free to test each one, but ensure you don’t remove more than 10. Seriously, I worked hard on making it exact, you know how annoying pipetting is? 

Regardless, those are the basics to the medication. Essentially I’m microdosing you so you get used to the real stuff. I give off the real stuff, and being around me is kind of poisonous for you, so- but don’t worry! It’ll get better after the first 5 doses or so. By then you’ll have a better handle on what’s happening and won’t absorb stuff willy nilly. 

Good luck! And I really am super sorry about what happened. I genuinely would have only made it worse if I saw you. I didn’t realize until our second meeting what was happening, and by then it was far too late to do anything. 

I hope for you health and prosperity,

Ghost Face  Phantom

Okay, that was a lot. He’d have to give this letter to Tim, and each of the vials. It seemed like Phantom really did prepare for everything. He knew Jason would want to test everything, taking it without any knowledge of even what it was would be insane, especially in their line of work. At least the testing would be done by Tim and not Bruce. If it was Bruce, Jason didn’t think he’d get the vials back for months to years. Who knows when Bruce would have learned enough for this? 

Regardless, his brother was coming by soon, in 5 to 10 minutes or so. He could explain everything then. Tim was the more thorough of the two, Jason didn’t think even the air would be left alone after the other was done. Still, he had complete faith in Tim’s judgment and ability, all he could do now was wait. 

.

.

.

Tim was a minute away from Jason’s apartment. Yes, apartment, because his older brother was stupid enough to bring Phantom to his literal home rather than anywhere else. God, if his brother didn’t realize his feelings soon Tim was going to strangle him. This was literally getting ridiculous. He sighed as he parked his bike in a hidden alley, covering it so it blended with the wall, God forbid he got his tires stolen. Making his way up to the top floor of the building served no problem for him and his grappling hook. Soon enough he was tapping against the window waiting for Jason to open it up for him. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

“Get in.”

“Move out the way.”

The two stared at each other long and hard before Jason rolled his eyes and actually took a step back from the window. Tim rolled his eyes too, but it couldn’t be seen through the mask. Though with the way Jason called him a little shit under his breath, Tim knew the message got across. 

“Alright. I need the report now, don’t miss a single detail. I’m talking A to Z with roman numerals after every letter.”

“Jesus Fuck replacement just sit down. We have time.”

“Actually, we don’t. I kind of snuck out of the manor.”

“You weren’t on patrol?”

“No? I was um well it’s not important-”

“Holy shit you were put on bedrest, weren’t you? Why?”

Jason laughed, tilting his head as the other froze. 

“The reasoning doesn’t matter-”

“I’ll text Dick.”

“You childish-”

Jason waved his phone in front of Tim back and forth, taunting the other. Tim wanted to strangle him.

“Rest is for the weak and a fucking stab wound isn’t enough to keep me out of action.”

“A stab wound? Kid, why the fuck did you-”

“ You called me. Distress signal, remember? Plus you promised you would call if anything happened.” 

“I can’t believe you got stabbed and didn’t tell me.”

“It was just my arm! I don’t know why everyone’s over reacting.”

Jason remained silent, opting to just cross his arms and stare the other down. He was well aware that there must be more to the story than something like that. Tim folded. 

“Okay okay- The last few cases may have kept me up a little more than I thought. Plus there’s this new department in Wayne Industries that was put together without me knowing and I had to go through every piece of paperwork for it because what if there was a mistake? And then-”

“So basically you haven’t slept for the past week or two and got sloppy on patrol which led to you getting stabbed and benched by everyone.”

“I may have also snuck out a few times to help Kon out.”

Jason sighed as he dragged his hand down his face. This kid was such an idiot. 

“But enough about me, I want the full detail of everything that happened!”

“Alright, do you have your tablet?”

“Always.”

Tim pulled it out from seemingly nowhere. Jason didn’t know how he did it, the Red Robin suit didn’t have large enough pockets- at least that he knew of. Plus, Tim didn’t have a bag on him. 

“Alright I’m ready.”

Jason could practically feel the excitement off of his brother. He was starting to regret involving Tim in the first place.

“There’s so much I don’t even want to talk about it.”

Jason sighed before he got up from his seat and went to his bedroom, retrieving a laptop and returning with it.

“I’d rather just play the audio and fill in for what Phantom was saying. I’ll explain as it plays.”

Tim nodded, getting comfortable on the floor. Jason almost felt bad, but if he wasted anymore time in telling him what happened, Tim would surely strangle him or something. So with that, he pressed play. 

“Finally show your face, huh, Phantom? I’m sorry to inform you, but you’re about 3 weeks late on your appointment. You don’t get one now.”

“Really Jason?”

“I will admit, not my best choice of words, but I was pissed off.”

“When are you not?”

“Listen to the fucking recording Replacement.”

Phantom spoke, Jason wracked his memory to translate.

“He just said he was occupied.”

“He told me I was sick- well more like asked for confirmation but whatever.”

“Hah- sick? You son of a bitch-”

“Then he just goes on to apologize and then says I was experiencing withdrawal.”

“Withdrawal? From what?”

“Be patient and find out.”

Jason ignored the noise Tim made, it was a mix of exasperated and annoyed, clearly Jason couldn’t care less. 

“So you did know, huh? Then why?”

Jason winced at how he sounded, even over recording it was pathetic. Tim didn’t comment. 

“He said that him being there would have made it worse, and then that he wasn’t the one who made me sick.”

“Then who did, Phantom!”

“No one did, it isn’t something he can just inject me with. Then he said it just happened, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

“Don’t bullshit me! I want answers Phantom, no more of these stupid fucking games.”

“Please.”

Jason refused to look up from his laptop. He’d forgotten the details of what happened, and now it was all crashing back into him- with an audience. There was no hiding the crack in his voice. 

“I still had my gun on him for reference. I shot him in the beginning I think, rubber bullets though. I kept a gun on him, he kept his hands up, but by now he lowered them.”

“Then what, Phantom? Where were you!? Where were you after-”

And then the sound pitched up with static, getting so loud. The sound was horrifying and it had both Tim and Jason flinching away from the source. It ended soon after, Jason paused the laptop. He took in a shaky breath before translating

“ ‘ I was dying’ , he said.”

Chapter Text

Tim shuffled a little nervously as he made his way down to the cave. Barbara had called them all down for a meeting, she had some leads on the Phantom Thief case and some concerning questions. It wasn’t possible that she had gotten any information from them- they’d made sure to be careful, so there was something that they’d miss. It was around 4 pm, hardly time for patrol or anything, but still after school. This was eating Tim alive.

He shot a warning text to Jason. 

coffeeisgod

Barb has some info on the Phantom case. Be careful.

2inabovethefingertips

I know. I got the message 

yk what it is?

coffeeisgod

Not a clue I was with you all night, remember? 

2inabovethefingertips

obviously

coffeeisgod

Well I'm about to find out.

Are you going to come in too?

2inabovethefingertips

wouldn’t they find that weird?

coffeeisgod

Not really.

You were the first to make contact

2inabovethefingertips

u right 

ill be there 

Tim sighed as he pocketed his phone and went down to the cave. It was unlikely that they found what Jason and him had been up to, after all it was a message to everyone to come, and neither Tim nor Jason were sent an urgent message. It simply said there was an update and to come down for a briefing. Jason was flaky, often didn’t show up for the actual meeting and just read the report later on, if they had wanted to confront them, they would have put some sort of pressure on him to attend, but they didn’t. There was no way Tim was going to even hint at what he had been doing. He would simply sit back and observe as he always had. 

“Oracle, report.”

Ah yes, the voice of Bruce Wayne himself. When Tim reached the main area, he noted how just about everyone was there, even Duke. The only person missing was Jason, though Tim knew he’d be coming in soon. 

“Right. On the screen is a girl named Samantha Manson, hometown Amity Park. The same place Vladimir Masters was the mayor of. A couple of hours ago at 12 pm exactly she started a live video on her instagram account talking about Amity Park, specifically the government sanctioned black out over it.”

Tim halted. This wasn’t something that had come across. These findings were leading away from the Phantom Thief himself, and more towards Vlad. He took out his laptop and started noting this down on both servers. 

“The reason I called you down is not because of the Phantom Thief himself, but rather what was brought to my attention outside of that.”

“Well spit it out then.”

What an entrance Jason.

“Todd.”

“Demon spawn.”

“How dare-”

“Okay there!” 

Oh look, Dick’s here too. Oh fuck, Dick’s here too . 

“Why don’t we all calm down and listen to what barb has to say, hmm?”

Ever the peacekeeper, his eldest brother. Tim remained silent, watching the squabble with a smile on his face. Jason sat the farthest away from him, good, they were still hiding a lot. 

“Right. As I was saying, during the live she showed videos of these… entities attacking the town. She called them ghosts, and I’m inclined to believe her.”

“Ghosts? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Damian spouted, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. 

“Well I thought so too, but during the live someone had lifted the firewalls surrounding Amity and the GIW and what I found was horrifying. The GIW, or the ghost investigation ward, is a government specialized in the capture, containment, experimentation, and eradication of ghosts- or ectoplasmic beings-”

Tim was the only one to notice Jason flinch.

“- which are these ‘ ghosts ’ as Ms.Manson calls them. They can do this because of a little thing called the anti-ecto acts, a complete opposition to the meta human rights acts.”

The screen changed to a couple of pictures of paperwork, the forms being the laws and all their sections. The other screens in the room showed footage of Amity Park’s destruction and attacks, as well as the GIW’s agents and information. 

“Wait-”

Duke commented.

“Who’s that?”

He pointed to one of the screens displaying a fight, his finger directed at a human figure with bright white hair and a black suit. The face was indistinguishable, scrambled and edited out. Though, the opponent he was fighting was in clear view. 

“That would be Phantom-”

Another flinch from Jason.

“He’s the town hero.”

Duke winced before covering his eyes.

“He’s too bright.”

“What?”

“The beings- or ghosts? In the video, they glow and not how humans normally do or even metas, no they have this- aura? Sort of? It’s kind of similar to Jason’s, but it’s just so bright . Phantom especially. He’s practically a star.”

And just like that all eyes turned to Jason, but his gaze remained on the screen- remained on Phantom. 

“‘ Like Jason’s’ ? What is that supposed to mean?”

Dick commented, glancing back and forth between the two. 

“Uh, how do I explain this- Jason kind of has this over looming darkness? Like a few black wisps surrounding him at all times, no sorry, more like a dark green- a really dark green. It doesn’t feel too nice either. The guys on the screen, they have it too, which is strange because I usually can’t see this stuff over a monitor, you know? For some reason they just go through the tech, it’s strange, but their aura is the same as Jason’s- though a bit different.”

Silence fell over the room as they all soaked that in. Tim knew what this meant, Jason was one of them, and while Tim knew beforehand because of the thief, no one else did. They had to act it out. Tim spoke.

“So Jason is one of them?”

“One of them? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jason gruffly commented, leaning against the stone walls. 

“Well, you aren’t a ghost but you- you know.”

Great, jumping around the topic.

“What? I died ? Is that what you’re trying to fucking say, replacement ?”

Jason spat out harshly, pushing himself off of the wall and putting his right hand near his holster, the holster Tim knew held real bullets. He replied in kind, getting up from his own seat and standing tall. Dick instantly jumped between the two, putting his arms up, one in each of their directions.

“Why don’t we just take a minute here, hmm? Let’s not assume anything-”

“But it’s true-”

Tim insisted. He knew Jason wasn’t actually pissed, but they had to do their best. Plus, it was granted that his death was a sore subject. He wasn’t afraid Jason would hit him or anything, though maybe he’d be a bit pissy the rest of the week.

“Look. You can’t fault Duke’s abilities. I’m not saying Jason is dead or a ghost, I'm saying he has a connection to death not everyone else has. Sure, some of us have died, but we didn’t have that touch that Jason had. I’m just saying it could be connected, and that the likeness of it is increased. Which makes the anti-ecto acts a larger problem than you guys think.”

Jason looked just about ready to argue, but Dick spoke before he could, keeping himself between the two. 

“Are you saying that Jason counts under this?”

“Hell- most of us could.” 

Silence surrounded them once more as reality sunk in. Bruce rushed over to the bat computer and dropped down into the chair, instantly typing away.

“Oracle I want access to everything you’ve collected or come across, any information on what exactly an ectoplasmic being is would be appreciated.”

“Already done.”

The screens changed to show more strings of words and information. Tim inserted everything quickly, typing fast enough to keep up with the onslaught of information. He’d prefer to be the one at the main computer, but he knew Bruce wouldn’t pass that up. 

“Ectoplasmic beings, otherwise known as ghosts or spirits of the dead. This includes but is not limited to- those with intense contact with ectoplasm, ectoplasmic poisoning, died and/or returned. I.e Jason and well- like half of us.”

Tim added unhelpfully. He knew that it wasn’t helping the situation, but Jason knew beforehand he was one of them. This meant that the people who attacked them had to be part of the GIW or at least know of them. Jason was now a target to them now that they knew of his existence. Ectoplasm, basically lazarus water, but pure. That was what made these creatures, so surely the entire family was somewhat infected. Especially Damian, Jason, and Cass. 

Dick gave him a look at his comment, almost telling him to shut up, but it wasn’t going to work anytime soon.

“From what I’m finding here they’ve been in existence for over six years, but quieted down three years ago after reaching an all time high of activity prior to that. They’ve been mostly underground since, something must have happened to them. The real problem is the footage I’m finding.”

Tim connected himself to the bat computers and showed what he found: videos of ghosts strapped to tables or in cages, screaming and crying, being experimented on and attacked. There were also images of weapons designed against these groups, and the injuries they caused. Jason had halted at the sight of a particular wound, Tim was quick to connect that they’re the ones he himself sported as well as Phantom. They had proof that Phantom was truthful about who he said he was. Tim highlighted the facts in green, changing the purple.

“This is insane.”

Dick breathed out, twisting his head in between screens trying to take in all the information. Tim sighed before showing more. Reports and notes of every single experiment or find, a log of each encounter with the various ghosts, sheets on each one which included their powers, abilities, weaknesses and character traits. Something about an obsession kept popping up, but they never carried similarities between each ghost. 

The most interesting, however, was Phantom’s sheet. It was completely void of information past the basic abilities all ghosts shared. The only other writing on the page was large bold letters insisting he was attack on sight, and to capture and/or kill when encountered. He was labeled highest on the danger scale, and even necessary to call in backup. 

“What the hell is all this? How are they even still up and running?”

Bruce didn’t even respond, in fact, most of the clan kept silent. Dick did most of the talking for them. 

“They’re funded not only by the government, but by private investors too. It seems they’re selling off ectoplasm as a natural fuel source, and a powerful one too. All their weapons are powered by it. The problem is that this stuff is what ghosts are made of . It seems that they were not only experimenting on these ghosts but extracting their life force from them. Despite their so-called purpose of researching them, they’re quite clueless on everything but how to kill and/or harm them.” 

“Tch. So? What are we to do? These are clearly pit demons.”

“What did you say?”

Tim tried not to reflect his expressions, Damian had said it for him. Tim spoke up.

“Pit demons- you think that this ectoplasm is just lazarus pit water?”

“Is it not obvious? I thought you were smarter than this Drake.”

“You just admitted you think I’m smart.”

Dick grabbed Damian before the knife in his hands could leave it. 

“Let’s calm down here. Tim, stop antagonizing him.”

Tim ignored him.

“Anyways. If this is lazarus water, then it can’t be the same thing. The images I’m finding are quite similar, but they’re slightly different. Lazarus water boils, and while they share the same neon toxic green, ectoplasm is a bit-”

“Purer?”

Jason finished his sentence for him. Tim allowed himself to look over at his brother, just to find him restraining himself. He was back against the wall, crossing his arms with a tick in his jaw. They weren’t at the point of no return yet, but they were certainly reaching it. The pits were a touchy subject to Jason, and knowing he counts as this and was indirectly called a pit demon because of it didn’t help. Tim was sure he was trying his hardest to calm down, and it seemed everyone else shared the same idea as they moved away from him, Cass and Dick edging closer. 

Tim hadn’t noticed that a picture of it went on the screen, he was still connected to the computer it seemed. That explained why Jason finished his sentence for him. 

“Yes.” 

Tim disconnected his laptop and let Barbara take over before going to the server held between just him and Jason and updating it with just about everything he could find. 

“One more thing I want to show you guys, is them.”

The monitor screen changed to show a family portrait. Two adults in brightly colored hazmat suits with a son and a daughter. 

Jason and Tim gasped. 

Jason recognized those adults, but Tim- Tim recognized their son .

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Danny groaned as he stretched his arms and legs out. He had an early morning class earlier and upon coming home collapsed on the floor and napped. He groaned as he got up from his resting place and stretched his back too, bending a little too far back for average human standards. The bag he had taken to school was at his feet, his shoes sprawled across what he recognized as his living room. Clean first, and then he could get to work. 

He sighed as he sunk down on his bed, flopping back and bouncing slightly from the force. He didn’t want to have to deal with what he was about to deal with… if that made sense. He opened the portal, the GIW was on his trail, his parents were on his trail- his parents, right. Two years searching just for them to pop up knowing his secret trying to kill him. At least he finally got his answer, they’d never accept him. They didn’t believe Phantom and Danny were the same person, and for some reason that realization hurt the halfa more than he thought it would. He always knew it was a possibility they’d throw their bias away and accept him- love him- but they didn’t, and Danny didn’t think they ever would. 

He sighed as he stared at the ceiling, going over the events from the night before. He turned and screamed into his pillow. Ancients, he was such an idiot. If Jazz were here she would have hit him upside the head. Not only had he let his real voice show, he even had a panic attack, got injured, and was even brought to the guy's apartment . He was so stupid. How could he let it get to that point? Dammit, they even patched each other up- he had his shirt off. Oh my Ancients he was shirtless. Nope. Danny wasn’t going to allow himself to touch that situation with a 10 foot pole. 

He had much more pressing issues to worry about than his bare torso full of scars. Injuries done by ecto-weaponry didn’t heal the same, they always left a mark. That was something Danny had come to realize thoroughly when he was 16. The longer the GIW was about, the more creative their weapons became. Instead of just guns or nets, knives and darts were ectofied, bo staffs and clubs and even throwing stars at some point. They had upped their power, and soon enough it would have been far too much to handle had Danny not closed the portals. 

Ancients, he was in a pickle. Point is, the GIW would be invading Gotham- his parents already had- wait… how did his parents find him? Where even were they beforehand? Two years, hidden out, when they’d searched damn near everywhere? He had scoured all of Illinois and even made routine checks while traveling across the country. There was no sign of them. He knew later on that a kidnapping was impossible. His mom was way too powerful for a normal guy to take em, and that wasn’t even mentioning the brute strength of his father. That added with all the weapons they kept in the basement- they were thoroughly protected. 

This hadn’t really reached Danny’s mind the first few months or even the year that Danny spent searching after they went missing. The anxiety of it all mixed with his sense of urgency and worry clogged his judgment past the superficial details. The point is his parents weren’t taken; they left . 

But where had they gone? The halfa wracked his brain. They had found him, but not on purpose. There was no way they found his ecto signature outside of Gotham. The only thing showing would be the portal. He was thoroughly hidden and it wasn’t possible for them to make an even better reader than before. They had to have come to Gotham for the portal, but that wouldn’t make sense either, because the only people who knew that Phantom was still in the human realm and knew how to build the damn thing was the GIW. 

Phantom went missing after the portals shut down- he made sure of it. He had never made a public appearance or tipped off their scanners since he was 17. He doesn’t even know what his ghost form even looks like now. 

The only people who knew he could build the portal were the GIW. 

His parents knew he could build the portal. 

Ah shit, his parents worked for the GIW. 

Danny covered his eyes with his forearm, allowing the darkness of his room to comfort him. His parents left him- well that wasn’t right, hadn’t he left them first? No. No point going down that route. The topic was added to the list of things he’d ignore until he got over them- another thing Jazz would have hit him for. 

He had work to do. First, he had to go back to the scene, see if he could find any evidence and get rid of his blood. He was perfectly healed now, only with scars remaining- that reminded him. He couldn’t see Hood for at least another week. Letting Hood know that he was completely healed so soon would be bad, at least until he could trust him. Oh- another issue, how trustworthy his partner in crime was. Ancients, he was getting off track. 

He had to first go to the scene and clean his blood, then he had to find hints of his parents, and then investigate the GIW, and then attack the GIW because if they’re gonna strike he might as well strike first- all while hiding his presence completely from the batclan- including Hood. Why was his life (half-life, he corrected) so complicated? And Hood- that was a whole other can of worms. He could think about the crime lord later, for now, he had to make a decision.

If he couldn’t investigate as Danny, and he couldn’t investigate as Ghost face, then he’d simply have to investigate as Phantom- and no, not the thief, the ghost . 

Chapter Text

Ancients, when was the last time he went ghost? It’s been ages. He sighed contently in his own translucent skin. He had missed this, truly. The feeling of being weightless, of gravity simply passing through him, not even applying to him, was exhilarating. Being a ghost was a freedom he couldn’t quite grasp as a human, even if he used his powers. His human half needed to breathe, his ghost half didn’t. Things that defined the survival of a human were a suggestion to him as a ghost. He was dead like this- but alive in a way that he has never been before. 

He let himself soak it in. The coldness of his skin, the slight glow, the airy feeling- everything. He hadn’t felt like this in so long. The closing of the portals meant the last of Phantom, and it was something that tore him apart for years after. The lack of ectoplasm had been an issue, of course, but Amity was so drenched in it after 3 years of an open portal as well as being a thin line, it hadn’t bothered him until he left. 

Now, however, he had an open source as raw as the prime years of Amity itself. He savored the moment once more. Eventually, he’d have to get moving. He looked down at himself, taking in the appearance. He was… smaller. And then the realization dawned on him. He hadn’t grown since he died. His ghost form was still 14- still that dumb freshman who meddled with things he shouldn't have. 

He hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t really gotten a growth spurt until junior year, and even then his aging was slower. While his friends and classmates solidly looked like adults, he still held features from his younger self. Sure he was taller now, but he lacked facial hair or rougher skin that he toned to older men- or men his age. Honestly, if he wanted to, he could probably go back to highschool and start junior year, rather than being in college. 

By the time he had closed the portals, he still looked relatively the same. He may have been taller as a human, but he hadn’t noticed as a ghost because he never really used legs later on. The more he was as Phantom, the more comfortable he got as a ghost. Things like legs were useless when he had a tail. And maybe that’s why it took him so long to realize, took him until this moment to really see what dying had done to him. 

He’d forever be stuck as 14, no matter how much he aged outside of it. 

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Danny sighed as he made his way across the Gotham skyline. He had wasted time over the new revelation of his, and he’d rather not spend any more of it stuck in his own head. The line between his humanity and monstrosity was thinning, and he didn’t know whether the line he balanced on would snap if he tilted too far. 

Anxiety didn’t stop the GIW, though, so off he went, promptly locking that question among the many others of his troubles in the far back of his brain. He didn’t have time to decompress, he didn’t have time to sort through his emotions, he didn’t even have any time to be normal . 

He sighed, being angsty over his situation did him no good. He had a scene to investigate and clean. After all, where his parents went, destruction followed. 

It took a small amount of time for Danny to reach the fated rooftops of the night before, it had honestly been exhilarating getting outside of his Ancients forsaken apartment. He loved it to bits, of course, but it wasn’t the most homey of places. His move had been a rush to get away from the batclan, hiding out in Crime Alley so they’d mind their business, and oh how wonderfully that worked out for him. Truly, Danny must be the unluckiest thing to exist. 

When he finally landed on the stone edges of the building, he allowed his eyes to scan the area. He was invisible, of course, he couldn’t have anyone knowing Phantom the hero was back, especially not the bat clan themselves. Though, something was definitely wrong with the crime scene. 

There was no proof.

There was no evidence of anything happening there. The place was stripped clean of all blood, bullets, and scuffles. There wasn’t even a hint of gunpowder. Danny had extra senses, and even using those he could only find small traces of the actions before. It was so faint, he’d nearly assumed he’d landed on the wrong roof, but he knew better. He didn’t think he’d be able to forget this place ever, let alone merely hours after the incident. 

The real question was who did it? Danny could just feel those hints of ectoplasm, could practically taste his blood that was left behind, and yet, it was nowhere to be found. The area was clean, a faint smell of cleaning products wafting through his senses. Any average human wouldn’t know a single thing, but again, Danny was not of that category. Whoever did this was professional, and efficient, and it terrified Danny- because whoever cleaned this place had his blood . 

Ancients, he was screwed. He’d been sloppy, once again. Fuck. He let himself rest in the air, his hands holding tight against a tuft of his hair, tugging it. He bit his bottom lip, picking at it with his teeth as his mind began to reel.

Had it been his parents? No, not possible. Danny knew that Hood had shot them. Plus, they never cared about the aftermath of their fights, why would they now? But then again- Danny didn’t really know his parents now did he? After all, they had run away and even found out about him, yet he never even knew. And the halfa didn’t even want to know about how they figured out his existence, let alone lead to the conclusion that he was possessing his own fucking body . 

Yeah, another topic he locked away in his subconscious no box. 

Back on point, was it Hood? That didn’t really make any sense either though. It was Crime Alley, surely seeing blood and bullets on a roof was something the folks were accustomed to. Plus, Hood made his notoriety through leaving a message, an example even. He had never really shied away his doing to anyone before, why start now? What made Danny special? Plus, all of his blood was gone . It’s not possible for Hood to have known that his blood had ectoplasm in it, and with all that had been going on noticing the slight glow wasn’t possible. 

It had to be a third party- it had to be, and that scared Danny far worse than any other solution he could come up with. 

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Tim sighed as he flopped onto his bed. Danny Nightingale, the college student who works in a coffee shop, is Danny Fenton, a missing highschool kid. Wonderful. Tim really knew how to pick em. Why could he never make normal friends, hmm? Is it because he’s not normal? What happened to opposites attract. Just once, a regular civilian. 

He held his forearm over his eyes, sighing into the darkness. God, he was exhausted. How had a simple thief led to all this? Tim didn’t think he could have ever predicted this . Ghosts? Really? And not only that, apparently the government knew and Tim didn’t . It was insulting, truly. Those lousy politicians managed to have an entire branch dedicated to the harm of an entire species and Tim was clueless. How could he have let that happen? 

That meeting with Oracle had been absolutely dreadful, truly. While he was thankful he and Jason hadn’t been caught, the relief was short lived when faced with the atrocities of the ghost investigation ward. Bruce had gone near catatonic at the news, locking himself up in the cave intent on finding out as much as he could of the situation. His family was now desperately searching the country for leads of the Fenton family and the main targets or figures from the heat of the ghost attacks, and Tim knew one was right under their noses. 

He didn’t tell anyone about Danny. In fact, no one even knew he had made a friend , let alone that he was a suspicious figure. It was strange, though. When he had looked Danny up and investigated, his slate was clear, albeit boring. He had everything needed for an identity as Daniel Nightingale, from birth records to even school marks. How much of his past was falsified? And how had Tim not noticed? 

There was no way the Danny he knew was not the Danny from the image. The photo may have been from a few years ago, the boy being a highschool teenager rather than the adult he knows now, but those features were hard to miss. First was the classic duo of black hair and blue eyes, and then the tan skin, round face but with sharper features, pointed nose, and larger eyes. Plus, there was just this sense of familiarity that Tim couldn’t shake. Even the way the boy in the picture held himself, the small smile and the tired eyes, his hand touching his other elbow- a pose he’s seen the barista do when uncomfortable. 

The similarities were uncanny, and Tim just knew it was him. Still, he’d have to make sure. The Danny he knew’s identity was professionally done at the least, with no flaws, and while the college student was intelligent, Tim knew his capabilities ended with machines. Forging identities and government forms wasn’t something Danny could do, so he had help. Tim had to be sure that they were the same person. After all, he had a primary source of information right at his feet, there was no way he’d let it slip past him. It wasn’t in his nature.

It was final, then. Red Robin would be paying his favorite barista a little visit after his shift. Cheers to that.

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Danny investigated the building, even searching through every room. At most, he only found hints of blood along the hallways where they ran. Hood had shot his parents, and clearly they weren’t faring well with it. Danny almost felt disgusted with himself over how little he was bothered over it. Was he worried? Terribly. He didn’t want them dead, not at all, not ever. He never wanted them to get hurt, and yet, he lacked that overpulling anxiety at his core. 

He wasn’t angry at Hood. The last ghost who messed with his family had been booted 6 ways through Sunday and back into the ghost zone, but Hood was fine. Hood had protected him. How could Danny betray him with his anger? When Hood did the right course of action. In fact, would Danny have fought back against his parents for Hood? 

He sighed internally. That train of thought wouldn’t lead anywhere. His relationship with Hood was complicated and served no purpose in the fight he was currently in. He didn’t want to drag the other down with him. At least if Danny ended up on a dissection table, it’d be him and him alone. Who knows what the GIW would do had they known of Hood and his… partnership? Back in Amity, they had attacked him as a human for being close to himself as Phantom. That was partly his fault, of course, he had gotten the hang of clones and even figured out he could detransform one. He had used that new little ability to stomp down all rumors of the two of them being the same (fuck you Wes). 

The GIW had seen him interacting with himself and deemed the relationship valuable to exploit. It was an incident that had him finally face to face with the trouble the GIW was and could be. Their potential for destruction was something everyone could see, and Danny wasn’t too keen on seeing it happen in real time. Memories of an alternate future flashed through his mind, having him quick to take action and ever more sure of closing the portals. 

Ancients, Danny couldn’t stay on topic. He had ended up just hovering in the dim hallway thinking for the last who knows how long. He hit himself on the forehead before dragging his hand down and shaking his head back and forth. Focus, Danny, he repeated to himself. He had a job to do, people to find, a couple to investigate. He didn’t have the time to be getting lost in his own thoughts. It was ridiculous. 

He had gone through a couple walls and followed the trail of blood to the basement. They had to be here. He checked to make sure he was invisible and stopped his breathing, putting his all into being as silent and undetectable as possible, reeling in his aura as much as his body allowed. It was harder as a ghost, because aura was what they were , but he had to do it just in case. He knew they had ecto readers, so as long as nothing gave off his true location, it’d be fine. He’d survive.

“How are you feeling Mads?”

“I’m fine, but that bastard-”

“I know.”

His dad comforted his mom, rubbing her back as she sat slouched in a foldable chair. The basement was barren, the walls and floors pure concrete. It was more of a bunker than anything else. Cheap metal shelving stacks were against the wall, filled with busted and old cardboard boxes with more spiderwebs than a Haunted house. His parents sat in the center of the room, surrounded by ecto weapons that made Danny shiver, many he didn’t recognize. Some were large, others small, and some even harmless looking, but Danny knew better. A fork was as harmless as the electricity that ran through it. He didn’t like that particular memory. 

“Phantom, how dare he parade around as a human.”

“That monster.”

Ah, Danny almost forgot what he was here for. Thank the Ancients his parents reminded him, lovely, truly. 

“Jack- Jack what are we to do? He-”

She sobbed.

“He took our baby! Our child, and we never even noticed. God, we’re horrible parents.”

If only they knew. 

“It’s okay. We’ll make it right. We’ll avenge him and save him and get Phantom to leave our boy alone.”

His mom turned to his dad, crying onto his chest, shaking with sobs. His dad hugged her, flinching slightly at the pull of his wound but continuing regardless. They sat there for a bit, just crying. Danny couldn’t find it in himself to look away. He was tearing up himself. Seeing them so broken, so wrecked , hurt him. It hurt him to know that he was the cause. That he was the reason for their suffering. 

He knew logically it wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t stop the uncomfortable tightness in his core. He thought he had finally moved on, finally detached himself from them. Forcing himself to refer to them by name rather than their titles, and yet, he finds himself calling them mom and dad. He finds himself feeling empathy- sympathy for these people. 

They didn’t get to stomp back into his life shooting at him and have him care for them. It wasn’t fair. 

“We need to make him pay , Honey.”

“Of course, we will. We’ll get him with the Fenton-Zapper and take him back to the labs. We’ll get our boy back, don’t worry Honey, we will.”

His dad comforted her, patting the back of her head and kissing her on the cheek. His mother sighed into it, nodding before cleaning her face up and slowly getting up from where they sat. She went over to the corner of the room and walked over to a large black box. Danny took a sharp inhale of breath. He recognized that box. It was simply a larger version of the ones sitting on his work table. He watched as his mom placed her hand on the top in the center and pushed down. The box clicked and a small panel rose. She flipped the panel up and clicked a few buttons before the entire top popped up slightly similar to the panel. Danny hadn’t been close enough to see what she typed in, but he had managed to get close enough to her to see what was in the box when she opened it. 

Danny’s heart dropped when he saw the contents. Vials upon vials of murky ectoplasm, dark and cloudy and bubbling. It was boiling . And then Danny knew what Hood was talking about before, because in that box wasn’t normal ectoplasm- it was lazarus water . 

Chapter Text

Tim hid in the shadows of the alley he was in, hiding perfectly. It was well past midnight, meaning Danny would be closing up shop right about now. He felt a little bad jumping the poor guy after how exhausted he looked today. He had paid his friend a visit as Tim earlier and couldn’t help but notice the signs of something being wrong. The guy looked rough in more ways than one. His hair was a mess, his eyes were tired and all spacy, his uniform disheveled, and he lacked the smile he usually had on his face. Plus, Danny was spacing out- and while he did that daily, he had been doing it far too often and for longer periods of time. Tim was talking to him and midway Danny just- left, going somewhere far away. It was worrying.

Tim sighed and relaxed. He heard the door rattle and the keys clink against the wood. 

“Fucki- please work keys. I pray.”

Danny cursed and continued to fumble with the keys. Tim took this as his chance to ease his entrance to be less stressful.

“Need any help?”

Danny damn near jumped. He was distracted. He hadn’t seen the other startle like that ever before, another sign of something being up. 

“Who- shit am I getting robbed? Listen man- I have less money than the-”

“I’m not here to rob you. I’m Red Robin-”

Danny seemed to pale, continuing to jiggle the keys around.

“One of those vigilantes?”

And then the door locked.

“Yes.”

The two stared at each other before Danny bolted in the opposite direction, running like his life depended on it. Tim cursed before chasing after him, taking to the skies. 

“Daniel! Calm down!”

Danny ignored him, simply twisting and turning into random alleyways he wasn’t even sure he knew the direction they led. God, why was Danny so fast? This was insane. 

“Calm down! I just want to talk!”

“Like hell you do!”

Danny screamed back before jumping through a random window and tumbling. Tim cursed once more before dropping down and following, catching onto his trail.

“Daniel! I seriously just want to talk!”

He was ignored, and at this point he was getting pretty tired of this chase. Why was Danny running anyways? Sure, the vigilantes were intimidating, but only criminals ever seemed to run. So that brought the question, what was Danny truly running from? What was he trying to escape?

“Fenton!”

Danny froze, tripping over some random item on the ground and tumbling. Tim took this as his chance to tackle the other and pin him down. 

“Can we please just talk? I promise you’re not in trouble. I need your help, please.”

Danny relaxed under his hold and Tim released him, sitting down and motioning for the other to follow his example. Danny grumbled to himself and leaned against a stray piece of furniture.

“What do you want?”

“Daniel-”

“Danny.”

“Danny Fenton-”

“Nightingale.”

“Jesus Christ- I was getting to that.”

“If you’re gonna tackle a guy and chase him down at least get his name right.”

“I apologize. There, you happy?”

Danny had this smug look on his face as he smiled wide and nodded.

“Very much so, yes. Now continue with the interrogation.”

“This isn’t a- I’m not even going to try and lie. I have a couple questions about Amity Park, care to answer?” 

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Danny was so screwed. How did he keep getting himself in these situations? It was different when he was parading around as Phantom Thief, at least then he had some animosity, some honest to Ancients cover. Now? As human Danny? Showing powers, especially against one of the bats, was suicidal. Plus, wasn’t Red Robin the smart one? Well, they’re all smart, but he’s like supreme smartness? Danny didn’t know. He was too busy panicking to think straight. 

“Actually I’d care not to.”

Ancients, why was he being snarky to a vigilante of all people? 

“That’s not how this works. Are you friends with Samantha Manson?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

Dammit, Sam, what did she get into? Red Robin stared at him, the whites of his mask practically shining.

“So when you and Sam would hang out after classes-”

“Objection. Leading.”

Danny interrupted. He didn’t care what Sam did or how that led back to him, he wasn’t about to snitch out.

“It’s not leading if it’s true.”

“Yes it is!”

“Do you even know what leading in a court sense means?”

“Isn’t it when you ask a question that makes the subject's memory alter?”

“Sort of but- you know what? We’re getting off topic. Samantha-”

“Sam.”

“Not friends, huh?”

Shit. To be fair, she hated being called Samantha, and made sure everyone knew that.

“Nobody called her Samantha, she hated it.”

“And how did you know that?”

“Because even the teachers referred to her as Sam, despite calling me Daniel. Choosy pricks I swear they had something after me-”

“It doesn’t matter if you say you’re not friends, because she already said you were.”

“What?”

“You don’t know?”

What was Danny missing here? He tensed against the furniture, staring at the vigilante imploring him to continue. 

“Give me your phone.”

“No. Use yours.”

“I don’t have one on me.”

“Why not?”

“... security risk. Did you forget I’m a vigilante?”

Danny almost retorted that when he was doing this work he always carried his phone on him, but he couldn’t just give that bit away like that. Instead, he sighed and took out his phone. It’s been going strong since sophomore year of high school! So it did look a bit busted. Red Robin winced.

“Alright.”

The other took the phone off of his hands and clicked around it. When Red Robin turned the phone back around, he was met with one of Sam’s newer posts. He had gotten the notification that she posted something and even went live, but he was kind of busy today, so clearly it missed his attention. Clearly that was a bad decision on his part when her voice started to ring out.

“I, along with my two best friends Danny and Tucker, have a bit of a secret we kept from the rest of the world.”

He flinched. Ancients, he hoped this wasn’t what he thought it was. 

“We were there when the portal opened. And we were there when Phantom, the hero of our town, came through the portal. We were friends with him… but Danny especially.”

He took a sharp inhale of breath, and distantly he felt someone’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t manage to tear his attention off of his phone screen.

“As I explained earlier, Phantom was one of these ghosts, but he was good . He’d protect us, and would never react to the cruelty of the humans here. They’d throw shit at him, attack him, even try to kill him, but he never hurt any of them- never seriously. It was hard not to like him. He was funny, and snarky, and confident, and caring in more ways than one. Danny and him became practically best friends, especially with how Danny would help him behind his parents’ backs.”

Danny couldn’t look away. Sam was twisting the truth, but being so on point it was hardly anything other than believable. When did she learn to lie like that? She was always the best out of the three of them.

“I said before that the Fenton’s were ghost hunters, but in actuality it was just the parents. Their children were on the ghost’s side, Danny especially. There were times when he’d… steal from his parents’ lab and give Phantom some equipment to help fight off the ghosts. If you watch the videos you’ll see some of it. Somehow, his parents never noticed, thankfully.”

Danny sighed, it really was amazing that they never noticed. Knowing what he knows about them now, he has no clue what they’d do to him had they known he’d been stealing, destroying, or altering all the tech they produced. 

“He- oh God- he would alter their tech- to be less harmful to ghosts. The stuff they would make was… horrible. It was far too painful, far too cruel to be used on any of the ghosts. No one had died from ghost attacks. Injuries, yes, but not a single death. Ghosts were never after the extinction of humankind, they were expressing themselves- something we learned from Phantom along the way.”

Danny didn’t know when he had grabbed his phone back out of Red Robin’s hands, but he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. He needed to know, needed to match their story. It seems the only thing they weren’t exposing was Danny being Phantom. Thank the Ancients for that at least. 

“The reason I’m talking about Danny so much is because-”

She seemed to have sobbed a bit, covering her mouth with her hand and leaning into it. Danny was finally starting to see the facial expressions she held, and even through the screen he could feel the pain, the hurt, the worry . 

“Is because he’s in danger.”

Danny flinched. How did she know? He had kept it hidden for a reason. He didn’t want them involved or in harm's way. This whole video was dangerous to do in the first place, outwardly going against the government? How had it not been taken down? No- wait- how did she find out? It wasn’t possible. There was no way this would get out from the government it was under- Tucker. Of course. Shit.

“The GIW, that government organization, had managed to build their own portal. Had managed to start their experimentation on ghosts. Danny found out, and with Phantom’s help they closed the portals 3 years ago, 3 years after they opened in the first place. The reason why he’s in danger is because Phantom disappeared. Now, we think that Danny knows where he is- but we also know that the GIW is convinced Phantom is the only one who knows how to build the portal. That’s not true.”

Oh no. There’s no way they were pushing the narrative that far-

“Danny is the one who taught Phantom how to build the portal.”

Ancients dammit Sam! She’s going to get him into so much trouble- 

“Look… earlier when I said that I was counted under the Anti-ecto acts, I meant it. That’s why I- and many others- left Amity park. Danny included. He’s on the run- and I’m afraid. I’m so afraid. I just found out that this was happening and I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. So, I’m begging everyone who got out of Amity, my classmates, my friends, and even my enemies- please help me. Help me help Danny. I know you all have your own stories. I know we didn’t get along, but this is his life . And he helped save your asses more than you’ll ever know.”

She took a breath, before wiping her tears and looking straight ahead.

“Please. Please help him. Please come forward and share your experience. I just want to make sure he doesn't get killed. I just want my best friend to be okay .”

The video ended there. Red Robin must have forwarded the video to the end. Danny hadn’t known, and from the looks of the video, it already went viral. There were hundreds of thousands of likes and thousands of comments. Danny wouldn’t be surprised if there was a news article soon. He needed to watch the whole thing later, it was an hour long and yet he only got the last 5 minutes. 

“We know, Danny. And now we want to help.”

Danny looked up to see Red Robin looking at him with a small smile on his face. He lowered the phone from Danny’s eye level and placed his hand on Danny’s shoulder.

“Let us help .”

Ancients, Danny was going to regret this-

“ Okay .”

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.

.

Tucker sighed into his chair. The first step was done. Sam had been getting non stop messages for ages now. She had posted the video mere hours ago, and Tucker did everything he could to make sure it reached every form of media he could find. Luckily, his efforts weren’t in vain. Everyone important knew, and he wanted to keep it that way. 

Sam would be posting a link soon along with another live video- at the same time as today. This time, she’d go in depth on her personal experiences with the GIW and such. They had discussed what path to go down, and are trying to get the most sympathy they could. Plus, they had to ensure that everyone knew that ghosts were sentient beings. Hopefully they could get the justice league involved, though Tucker had a feeling that Batman was already made aware. He just hopes Danny wasn’t caught. 

He knew his friend could take care of himself, but he also knew that it’s been 2 years since they’ve last seen each other, and if he managed to hide this even while they were together for a year, then who knows what was going on now. All Tucker knew was that he was alive, and was playing a dangerous game against the Red Hood. Danny knew how to pick em, that’s for sure. Really? He couldn’t have done that with any other bat ? He just had to go after the only one who’d actually fucking kill him.

Wonderful, great even, his best friend was suicidal. 

Anyways. Sam had messaged him, and after her direct call out to everyone else in Amity park, he could contact them all. The plan was to make everyone in on it. They especially had to talk to Wes and Dash. If they said anything negative or even put in the notion that Danny was Phantom, it’d screw everything up. They knew a lot of the class would help them, especially since they all managed to get closer by the end of high school, but he also knew they weren’t as trustworthy as Sam herself, and that was something he had to make sure of. 

With that thought, he opened up a brand new server and added just about everyone in his class. He was going to help Danny, whether the halfa liked it or not.

If Danny was going to stick to the shadows, they’d just have to take over the light.

Chapter Text

Tim sighed as he sat down at his usual seat in the coffee shop. He sipped his coffee and looked over at Danny behind the counter. It was honestly insane that Danny was working the morning shift after just working the night, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Tim had finally struck a deal with Danny as Red Robin and managed to set up a meeting tonight at 12. He now had to hide this from his family. He just hoped it’d be worth it.

Danny usually took a 30 minute break during when it was most quiet, so Tim would call him over then. Red Robin would find out information, but he didn’t know how sincere it’d be. He had to find out what he could for now, without giving away the fact that he’s holding hidden motives. Danny is smart, something Tim almost forgets due to his personality. Danny doesn’t hold himself as someone with capabilities, in fact, it seems like he is hindering himself- acting weak. Now he had a clue as to why. 

How had Tim not seen the signs before? No, maybe he had and just ignored it. Tim was working on minding his own business, he couldn’t get involved in Danny’s life until Danny actively put him in it, which he hadn’t. Amity Park was something Tim would probably have never known about had it not been for Sam. It seems both he and his new friend were keeping a double life secret.

.

.

.

Jason was naught with worry. He knew realistically that Ghost Face was probably just healing up, and that’s why he hadn’t been seen since. He got shot multiple times in multiple different areas, if he had been out and about Jason would have told him to go back home instantly. It was just something about knowing the other was struggling and in pain without him being there to help that itched his nerves. 

Tim had been right. Through all his teasing and probing questions, Jason knew he actually gave a damn about Ghost Face, and that did not help his situation. He paced inside his room. This apartment was a security risk, he knew that. Ghost Face had been in here, and this was the same one in which he had found the guy at the dumpster. So why was he here? Jason knew the answer, but didn’t even want to think it into existence. He shouldn’t be here. Bruce would 100% scold him if he knew, but Jason didn’t give a fuck. 

It was still day time. It had barely been a day since he had last seen him. It was better that he hadn’t caught Ghost Face out and about, that meant he was resting. With the extent of the injuries, surely he’d be out for at least two weeks. Then again, he and Tim had a running theory that Ghost Face was a meta and held at least sped up healing abilities. Especially since Tim had found footage of the man running about too soon after getting shot by Jason. Granted, they weren’t real bullets, but the fake ones hurt enough to call out a few days, even more so with the extensive moves the thief was displaying. Things weren’t adding up, and it was honestly getting to him. 

He had to talk with Tim. He may have told the other about the events of that night, but there was more to it. He hadn’t disclosed just how injured Ghost Face was, he hadn’t disclosed his own stakes in the meeting, or even the box he was left with. He had to come clean, at least more than he had before. There was something going on, and Jason needed all the help he could get with it. Who better than the true best detective in the world?

.

.

.

“Oh hey Tim!”

“Danny! Finally on your break?”

Danny sat down across from Tim, holding a large cup filled with some sort of monstrous concoction the man was known for making. Sometimes, the drinks intimidated Tim, though he had to admit they were good when he needed it. 

“Hah, yeah. I was going to take it earlier, but it was rush hour. I felt bad leaving Jimmy alone.”

Danny took a sip of his drink, setting it down again. Tim could see the thing steaming- how hot was that drink?

“I get it, I get it. Still though, you’ve been here since they opened… at 6 am. Don’t you think you deserve a break? It’s well past 12 you know.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say Tim.”

“Whatever I say- you-”

He was interrupted.

“Shouldn't you be in school right about now? It’s Thursday.” 

Tim shut his mouth. He should be in school right now, but this was more important. Plus, it’s not like it’s the first time he’s skipped. If Bruce found out, surely he’d understand the circumstances of the situation. Even if the situation he’d tell the other would be a lie. 

“Haha, I’m taking a mini break. I have a company to run and all.”

“Liar. You just didn't want to go.”

“What is this betrayal? From my own friend no less.”

“You’ll live.”

Danny smiled. Tim always found that expression odd. Don't get him wrong, Danny smiles often, but it’s this specific expression that always rubs Tim the wrong way- as if Danny knows something he’ll never be able to comprehend. Tim didn’t know what it meant, and that both terrified and excited him. 

“Hardy har har. You’re a cruel man, Danny.”

“Hah, you should’ve seen my Godfather. Nothing can compare to that fruitloop.”

Tim laughed along but it was fake. The Godfather Danny was talking about was Vlad Masters. Anyone else wouldn’t have put the two together, but now that Tim knew Danny was Danny Fenton, not Danny Nightingale, he couldn’t ignore it. Vlad was one tricky bastard. All traces of him either led to dead ends or didn’t exist. Places that should have his mark didn’t, and places that shouldn’t, did. Tim knew this wasn’t a joke. His friend could frame it as such with his light tone and airy expression, but Tim knew better now. Vlad was indeed a cruel and cunning man, but Danny didn’t know Tim knew that.

“Fruitloop?”

“Ah- it’s this nickname we have for him since he’s so batshit crazy.”

Danny smiled at the curse word, another inside joke it seemed. Did it have to do with bat? Or something else?

“Hah, I know a couple bastards I could give that name too.”

Images of Ras Al Ghul flooded his mind, a fruitloop indeed.

“Really? Anyone I’d know?”

“God, I hope not.”

Though Tim knew anything was possible. 

“Anyways, apart from the fact you should be in english right about now-”

“How did you know I should be in english?”

“I was right? Hah, lucky guess.”

Danny laughed again, Tim followed, though there was no hiding the suspicion in his eyes. Tim had a feeling there was more to his friend than meets the eye, he just couldn’t figure out what. It was something greater than his past in Amity Park, but if it wasn’t that then what? 

“Well anyways- listening to Mr.Lanter talk on and on about Shakespeare is something more suited for my brother than me. I could care less what a guy who's been dead for hundreds of years thought.”

“Your brother?’

“Oh, you don’t know my family?”

“No? Am I supposed to?”

“Danny, you’re telling me that throughout this entire friendship with me, you’ve never bothered to look me up? I told you I’m the co-ceo of Wayne Enterprises.”

“Well yeah but like if you didn’t want to tell me about them, why would I find out? Your family and past is something personal to you and your life. If you didn’t tell me, I don’t want to know. I don’t want you to know my family, so it’s only fair I give you the same respect. Though, I’m sure mine isn’t as interesting as the Waynes.”

Tim felt a little guilty now, but then again his parents did in fact commit crimes against an entire race of beings- so it’s not exactly like Tim would have found out about them otherwise. Though, it’s a little funny that Danny didn’t know his family. The Waynes were plastered everywhere at all times, was Danny just purposefully ignoring them?

“I appreciate the concern, Danny, but they’re already everywhere. It’s pretty impossible to escape em. Here, I’ll show you them myself.”

At least if Tim showed his family, he could control what Danny sees. It’s better if the theory articles didn’t show up. With that thought, he pulled out his phone and showed a picture in the saved files. It had the whole family in it, including members that didn’t exactly count, but hey, they were family, regardless of the legal ties. 

“Oh wow, black hair blue eyes a common theme? I’d fit right in.”

“It’s worse when you remember that most of us are adopted, and only Damian is blood related to Bruce.”

Tim pointed to Damian on the screen, and then moved his finger to Bruce. Danny nodded before spacing out at the screen. Tim didn’t interrupt him, simply following his gaze to see just who he was staring at. Jason? Danny was staring at Jason?

“That’s Jason.”

Danny blinked, seemingly coming back to reality. He looked over at Tim, tilting his head to the side.

“He’s the one who I said would appreciate the Shakespeare lectures.”

“Oh, huh. Say… is he-”

“Danny! We need you up front!” 

Danny flinched and looked back at the counter. Trisha had called him over. Danny quickly got up and apologized to Tim before rushing over and putting back on his apron. 

Huh, what exactly was Danny gonna ask him?

.

.

.

“Jason?”

“In here!”

Jason called from the living room, sitting on the couch with a wooden box laying in front of him on the coffee table. Tim looked a bit confused before sitting on the floor across from him and crossing his legs.

“You called? What’s up, I was busy.”

“Busy enough to skip class?”

“Why is everyone bringing that up?”

Tim groaned as he covered his face with his hands, Jason laughed slightly. 

“I’ll have you know I was looking into a lead-”

“You mean hanging out with your new friend at that coffee shop?”

Jason could practically feel the regret pulsing off his brother.

“God, why are you like this? Plus, he was the lead.”

“What?” 

“Yeah. Danny-”

“Holy shit, you met their son ? Wow Tim, you really know how to pick em- how lucky you must be for the main guy to be your bestie from work-”

“Jason.”

“I mean usually finding leads is difficult, right? But this? He’s been serving you your coffee everyday the last few weeks and-”

“Jason! I get it.”

“You didn’t tell Bruce did you?”

Tim looked to the side, rolling his eyes. Jason sighed. Of course, Tim didn’t tell B anything. Why would he? 

“You’re protecting him.”

“He didn’t even know what was happening-”

“How do you know that?”

“Cus I showed him, and he was genuinely surprised. Jason, he didn't know what Sam did.”

“But everything else? The GIW, his parents? He’s supposedly best friends with the government’s number one on their hit list, and you’re telling me he doesn’t know shit?”

“No. He knows about that. I’m sure.”

“You trust him?”

“Somehow.”

Jason sighed as he leaned back into his chair. He couldn’t really fault Tim for this. He had after all asked him to trust Ghost Face of all people, and that bastard was way worse of an ask than this civilian who got caught up in the wrong things in the past. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“If you trust him, I’ll put in faith. He’s got answers we don’t. I trust your judgment.”

Ew. Again being disgustingly sweet. Jason was getting flashbacks. The conversation being strikingly familiar. 

“I almost threw up.”

“You piece of shit-”

Tim covered his mouth and doubled over, faking it. Jason clicked his teeth before turning away and smiling. When he turned back, Tim was back to normal, in the exact position as before, Jason couldn’t help but chuckle a little, making his brother smile. 

“Okay, enough of that. Jason, what did you call me for?”

“Ah, right. It’s about your friends’ parents.”

Tim nodded before taking out his laptop (again- where did he hide that thing?). 

“They’re the people that attacked me and Ghost Face. I told you before I managed to shoot each of em at least once, so they’re still injured. They were clumsy, and meeting them didn’t seem planned. It felt like they had just stumbled upon us. I think they were looking for something else, and it had to do with Ghost.”

Tim took down notes, reorganizing everything he’s gathered so far and compiling a list of things it could be. 

“Ghost- he knew them. He was practically paralyzed when he’d seen them. He kept muttering apologies and that he was at fault. Whoever’s under that mask, they know the Fentons personally and intimately. More importantly, though, he was afraid of them.”

“Afraid?”

“He kept repeating that he’s him? Saying ‘I’m me’ and apologizing or saying no over and over. He was having a panic attack, and I couldn’t snap him out of it.” 

Tim nodded as he took notes, keeping his eyes on Jason. This scene happened a lot. Jason spilling his guts as his brother writes it all down and gives him his full attention. Honestly, he didn’t know if he wanted to get used to this setting or not. 

“I told you most of what happened back there, and even some of what happened when we got back here, but there's one more thing I didn’t tell you.”

“Is it about that case?”

“Perceptive as ever, replacement.”

Jason slid the box over, Tim caught it with his right hand and brought it over to himself. 

“What is it?”

“Find out.”

Tim rolled his eyes before carefully opening the case, his breath caught in his throat when he saw the familiar green.

“Jason this-”

“I know. It’s-”

“Ectoplasm. I get what you were saying earlier. It really is similar.”

Tim couldn’t take his eyes off of the vials, his attention altering between each of them. Jason waited. He wasn’t the most patient, but he could handle this.

“This is incredible. It’s so… pure.”

Jason knew that Tim didn’t get the same feelings he did when he looked at it. Jason knew for a fact that this was the real stuff, but Tim was different. He didn't have that feeling, he didn’t have that 6th sense, or that supernatural connection, all he had were his eyes and mind, and maybe that’s what made his brother so scary.

“That right there, replacement, is the cure .”

“ Holy shit. ”

Chapter Text

Tucker sighed as he took a sip of his juice. He had so much work to do, soon enough he’d be following down Danny’s path and drinking monsters. Ancients, he hoped not. 

“So how are we gonna do this, Tuck?”

Sam called out from over the phone. They were video chatting for the first time in 2 years, Tuck was definitely savoring it. All they needed was Danny.

“I think it’s time to host a highschool reunion, don’t you?”

“Ancients dammit, I was hoping you wouldn't say that.”

“Oh come on Sam. You know we need more witness reports. We can’t do this just the two of us-”

“Don’t lie-”

“Fine. We could, but it would take too much time, time Danny doesn’t have . We need to contact everyone from our class and make them come forward too, especially the A-listers.”

“Tuck- come on, please, anyone but them.”

“No can do Sam. You said you’d do anything. That includes talking to Paulina of all people.”

“Dammit. Why can’t you do it?”

“Because you’re the more sociable of us!”

“You lying piece of shit!”

“Oh come on Sam, please? They’re more likely to listen to you, especially after you blew up online and your heritage was exposed!”

“Are you saying that they’ll only listen to me because I’m rich and trending?”

“Are you seriously asking me that? Have you met them?”

Sam groaned as she slammed her head down on her keyboard, sulking. Tucker laughed as he took another sip from his straw. He missed her emo ass.

“Look. I’ll set the stage, make a private texting link between you and each of them. After you’ve convinced them I’ll put everyone in the same group chat and then bam! Operation save Danny is a hit!”

“Ugh, fine. Connect me to Valerie first-”

“Valerie?”

“She cares about Danny the most apart from us.”

“But she hates ghosts! Like- a lot!”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she wants Danny to die. Plus, who knows, maybe these years have changed her. I know she saw my stream. You made sure of it- sneaky bastard”

“Hey! Okay okay! I did, but that’s only because I needed those with the most influence to know! She has quite the following on her blog, teaching self defense and all.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever, I could care less if she created her own martial arts, I just need to know whether she’ll help Danny or not.”

“Feisty-”

“ Tucker .”

“Doing it! Doing it! Jeez.”

“You’re in, Sam. Try not to chew her out, will ya?”

And then she smiled in a way that made Tucker shudder.

“ No promises. ”

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.

.

Danny sighed as he cleaned the counters. Tim had left him shortly after his break was interrupted, he had gotten a text from his brother Jason that made him jump up and leave. Danny was curious, of course, but his friend is one busy teenager. He didn’t want to pry. Plus, he had his own things going on. He had a meeting with Red Robin tonight. Danny was still thinking over what happened with Sam. 

His friends were bringing their fight public, something he hadn’t been able to do. They were incredible, truly. Though, he knew that the video Sam posted couldn’t have gotten that much traction on its own. He recognized Tucker’s work- or should he say Technus’ work. Seriously, his friends were busy. He was glad, though, happy even. They were fighting for him. Him! He didn’t deserve it, but he was thankful nonetheless.

He couldn’t let all their effort go in vain, now could he? Maybe when he attacked the GIW, he could get a hold of some special information. First hand experience always offered more than what the computers could get someone, at least, when it came to ectoplasm. Danny was planning on attacking soon, though maybe it’d become more of a recon mission instead. Right it was better if he didn’t engage, at least not as a first resort. 

Of course, it’d be hard to avoid it since they have trackers with his signature. If he got in even a 50 feet distance they’d know his exact location… if he got within 50 feet they’d know his exact location- how did his parents not discover him? 

They had seen him the night of the rooftop, obviously the tracker went off then. Especially well since they targeted him, rather than Hood, but what about the day after? That night he had tracked them down, how come they hadn’t pinged on him then? What was the difference between those mere hours? What had happened?

It was impossible they didn’t have the scanners on them, his parents were fanatics and paranoid to the bone, they’d never leave it off or away- especially after coming face to face with him. After that meeting it was ensured that they’d be on high alert, if that package had anything to do with it. Hah, another problem. What were they doing with lazarus water? 

It was a bootleg ectoplasm. Sure, it could substitute it, but hardly. It was dark and dirty, the substance wouldn’t give the same effect as the pure stuff they were so used to working with. What did lazarus water do for them? Had they used it for their weapons? As an alternate fuel source? No- if they had the shots he’d taken would have had lasting damage and been harder to heal. 

If they weren’t using it for their weapons, then what? The effect the waters had on Danny and all ghosts alike was akin to poison- no way. Did they know? That wasn’t possible. Danny only just realized himself what lazarus water even is , let alone its effects on ghosts. How had the GIW discovered this? They didn't even have any ghosts at their disposal… right?

.

.

.

=Technus has added 23 people to server=

Sam

Alright listen up

We’re planning on coming forward with the truth of what happened in Amity

And we need you all to help out

Dash

Whats this gotta do with us

Sam

Who said you could talk, Dash? 

I’ll be dealing with you separately later

So shut the fuck up and listen 

Technus

He’s been silenced

Sam

Thank you, tuck

Now for the rest of you

Aren’t you pissed?

Aren’t you mad that we were left to suffer at the hands of ghosts for years?

With our only defense line being phantom and 3 kids?

Seriously?

The rest of the world got the justice league, but we got a ghost

A single ghost that looked like a teen fighting against an entire species

Valerie

I agree

Those bastards werent there for us for years

I hate to admit it

But phantom was our only help

Apart from red huntress of course

Sam

The reason why we never got help

Why we had to blindly depend on Phantom 

Was because of the U.S. government

specifically the branch known as the GIW

You all know em as the guys in white

Tuck give them everything you’ve collected

It's time amity park got its pay back

Technus

With pleasure 

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.

.

Danny sighed as he closed up shop. Once again, it was midnight, and once again he was faced with a vigilante hiding in the shadows. Danny could sense him, of course, but he would never let the other know that. The first meeting he’d been distracted, but now he was different. 

“Red Robin.”

“Danny.”

“Where to?”

Danny managed to lock the door first try, facing the vigilante who was leaning against the wall of the building next to them. 

“Follow me.”

Red Robin shot a grappling hook to the roof, hauling himself up. Danny resisted the urge to simply fly or climb his way up. He was playing human right now, he couldn't give anything away. Instead, he entered the alleyway in between the two and climbed up the emergency fire hatch ladder. Red Robin was waiting for him up top.

“Some of us don’t have fancy grappling hooks, Red.”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

Red Robin shrugged before starting to run, leaping between buildings and leading the way. How was Danny supposed to follow him without giving himself away? Sure, he had used a bit of skill back when the guy first saw him, but this was insane. He sighed before running and jumping as far as a human without experience could- which wasn’t very far. He ended up missing a tad and slipping, barely catching himself on the ledge before pulling up. 

“Woah there, I almost thought I had to save you.”’

Red Robin chuckled slightly as he stared Danny down. Hadn’t he been on the other roof? When had he gotten here? Ancients, these bats were gonna be the second death of him. He really couldn’t let his guard down, huh? Red Robin was way quieter than Hood, though Hood was way harder to notice because of his familiarity. It was honestly bull. Danny didn’t want to let loose his aura, even if it meant he could track Red Robin’s movements. If he did, and messed up his tech, then that was giving himself away. 

“You know, maybe next time take tracks that the average human can cross, and we won’t be in a situation where you have to save me.”

Danny rolled his eyes as he got up, dusting off his jeans. 

“But you’re not the average human, are you?”

Danny froze. Hah, stupid smart ass vigilantes. 

“I know you could jump it. It’s humanly possible. The real question is why are you pretending that you can’t?”

Red Robin pressed on, stepping closer to Danny, tilting his head to display his curiosity. Danny could feel him sizing him up. He had to stay calm. There was no proof that Red Robin was referring to the fact that he was Phantom Thief. 

“A sidekick-”

Ah, how could he forget? Red Robin knew he was Danny Fenton, and Sam had portrayed him as Phantom’s sidekick and best friend. 

“- of a hero. That’s what they said about you, yet you can’t jump an alley? Really? Hard to believe. Plus, the average human wouldn’t even jump .”

Red Robin already knew the truth. He already knew Danny could at least do some basic parkour. It was Danny’s fault for trying to hide it. Red Robin was testing him, and failing meant giving himself away. 

“You know, showing all your cards to the enemy is never a wise choice.”

“Enemy? And here I thought we had a partnership going.”

“More like you want something from me and offered something you would have done regardless of me.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Danny knew he was being egged on, but he didn’t care. Red Robin insisted he could help, but Danny wasn’t one to accept such a thing senselessly. Not anymore.

“Admit it, you were going to dig your noses into Amity regardless. You would have helped take down the GIW regardless. Would have helped Phantom out regardless. The wins that I gain from helping you out hardly make this a deal. You’re using me as an easy source of information to make this process quicker. I’m not a fool.”

Danny rolled his eyes as he moved past the vigilante. He chose to help out the other. He shouldn’t be complaining about it. Still, he didn’t like being tested, it was like he was back in the ghost zone trying to prove himself for just an ounce of help. His power would show itself, it always did. 

Red Robin sighed.

“You’re right, but we wouldn’t be able to help as fast or as sure. We need you Danny. No one else could tell us what we need to know. I don’t just need information on Amity, I can find that out myself. What I need is information on how to help. What I need is the knowledge of how ghosts work, of how they were attacked and put at harm's risk. The only person I can get that from is you , Danny.”