Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: Don’t own Danny Phantom or anything to do with DC and the bats

So, 8 out of 10 time, Damian in my fics is unredeemable. Very rarely I have him be okay, like how he gets better in For Sale. This one is a good Damian fic.

I don’t know what’s up with this new trend of PMing to offering artwork for fanfics but please, stop. It’s annoying and silly.

Prologue

He made his way down the alley, following the trail of green. It was hard, being so quiet, but this was his chance! But as he moved, he found the trail shifting colour a bit, red mixed in with the green? Was there an injured human as well?  Finally, he had the ghost boy cornered and damaged enough to hopefully catch. And there he was! Trying to act human as it curled up against the wall, hands pressed against its side where ectoplasm was leaking steadily. Its head was against the wall, slumped to the side, eyelids fluttering as if struggling to remain conscious. It coughed, more ectoplasm drippling past pale lips. If it was human, it’d have internal damage and bleeding then, but it wasn’t. But…where was the red coming from? It was mixed in with the green, making more a brownish colour.

He moved in, but Phantom showed no signs of realising he was there. Jack took his time to study the ghost boy, it was so much more human looking than most, more detailed. They had theories on why, the best was that the boy was a newer ghost than the rest. The way it interacted with the kids at Danny’s school and spoke seemed to back that up, the fact it was often found at the school too. But it couldn’t be the ghost of a local child, no one had died at the school in a long time.

So close, he could see the smattering of freckles across its face, the individual eyelashes…it was so human looking. And then those toxic green eyes opened, staring right at him, but they weren’t really focused, half looking through him as Phantom whimpered in fake pain. He raised his ectoblaster and Phantom stared at him, eyes widening, hands weakly coming up defensively.

“No…please Dad…don’t…please,” he gasped out brokenly. “S’me…”

Jack hesitated, Phantom didn’t seem to be seeing him and there was something about it that just…felt real. The way he was pleading, ghost or not, evil or not, it was a child…that other ghosts even called it…him one. Begging his dad…he felt his heart sink. Had Phantom been killed…by his own dad? He felt sick, the thought of something like that happening to Danny…

He looked down at the blaster in his hand and then up at the ghost…the boy. He holstered it and then moved closer to Phantom who just whimpered and begged his dad to not hurt him. It was far too easy to pry a skinny arm off the wound and…those were bones…organs… and the ectoplasm was brownish which probably wasn’t good. He took a deep breath and then scooped the glowing child up into his arms, running back to the GAV. He lay the kid out in back and then raced home, hoping the kids were still out and glad Maddie was away at that conference.

He pulled into the drive and picked the very light weight form up, carrying him down to the lab to lie on the table. He grabbed the medical equipment but he wasn’t sure what would work on a ghost. And Maddie was definitely the more knowledgeable about the more medically based sciences. If Phantom was human, he’d need to stop the bleeding, to close the wound so he’d start with that. He got out the antiseptic to clean the wound, Phantom whimpering softly before going quiet, eyes closed.

He threaded the needle and went to work trying to seal the wound. It was insane but well, if they were going to learn then better Phantom was in one piece to start…right? Glassy green eyes fluttered open as he worked and he paused in case he lashed out. The restraints were there, ready to activate, but for some reason he was reluctant to, the longer he looked, the more…familiar those features were.

“Da…ad?” Phantom slurred. And then he began to panic, babbling incomprehensibly, trying to weakly get away.

“Phantom lie still, you’ll pull your stitches.”

Thin arms lifted, reaching out to him, and he tensed, but then the ghost whimpered and he realised…but…a hug? Why would a ghost be asking for a hug? “Da…h’rts.”

And Jack found himself reacting to the plea before he could think twice, leaning in so the ghost boys’ arms were over his shoulders, gently lifting him into a hug.

“Dad pl’se…s’me…not ev’l…” Phantom went limp again, and Jack realised his heart was racing. No…it was impossible…wasn’t it?

He settled the ghost boy down gently. Then he grabbed his phone and called his son only to hear it ringing…from the table. Did the jumpsuit…no…hazmat suit…and it did have pockets. He found it and pulled out Danny’s phone, mind racing. How did Phantom have his son’s phone? It couldn’t be…it wasn’t possible…was it?

He took a pale face in his hand, studying it closely and there…just at his hairline, a familiar scar. Danny had fallen of the swing when he was seven and cut his face, had needed stitches…but how? He had seen Danny just that morning, he had been alive…hadn’t he? He shook off the thoughts, he needed to ensure Phantom would recover…Danny?

He checked him over and he seemed paler somehow. He got a container of ectoplasm and then looked around, setting up an IV. Okay, he just had to get it into him, did he have veins? With how detailed and human like he was, there probably were. So just find a vein and put the needle in, how hard could it be? It took a few tries but he was pretty sure he managed to get it in the right place.

He checked the ghost boy over, covering a few more injuries, splinting a seemingly broken bone. Jack then went upstairs and grabbed a pillow and blanket, taking them downstairs to make Phantom comfortable and hopefully keep him from panicking when he woke. He had questions and he needed answers. It couldn’t be overshadowing since that was like possession, it would be Danny’s human looking body with Phantom controlling him. some ghosts could look human but not for long. And Phantom had been around for three years now…there was no way he could have faked that. So how?

He sat at the computer, bringing up files…photos. Going back to before the portal opened and then after, seeing as Danny changed, he’d become withdrawn, skittish, showing up with injuries all the time… what had they missed?

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There was something cold and hard under him, except his head. What had happened? Where had he been… a fight? Da…Jack, Jack had been there. The GIW…Box Ghost? He forced his eyes open and froze in terror, the lab…no, please no. He shifted, surprised to find he wasn’t restrained and…there was a pillow? Blanket?

He glanced to the side, finding the heavy IV tubing glowing green…ectoplasm? And then he saw him, sitting at the table with papers spread out, Dad. Except he was Jack right now. He went to move, feeling the pull in his side. He carefully lifted the blanket to see stitches in his side. Had…had Jack stitched him up? Why?

“You’re awake,” Jack called, moving towards him, and Danny tensed. Jack raised his hands, showing they were empty.

“What’s going on?” he asked warily, carefully and slowly pushing himself into a sitting position.

And then Jack held out his phone, no…Danny’s phone.

“This was in your pocket,” he said, and Danny tensed.

How the hell could he explain that? Had someone called him? It was stupid to carry it as Phantom but it was the only phone he had.

“You have a scar…” Dad looked so tense, torn… “Danny?” he asked, and Danny paled, feeling sick. “Are you my son…are you Danny?” he asked.

Danny opened his mouth, terrified, trying to say something, anything. “I…I…Dad,” he choked, cold tears falling from his eyes.

A warm hand brushed his tears away, Dad staring at him. “How? How can you be my son?”

Danny had dreamed of and dreaded this moment since the accident. He took a deep breath and triggered his transformation, feeling the extra pain as he returned to human, his Dad catching him as he wavered. “The portal…you guys put the on switch inside it.”

His Dad went white. “You…you were inside?” he stammered, and Danny nodded.

“The electricity killed me…and the ectoplasm brought me back. I’m a halfa, half human and half ghost, stuck between life and death.”

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Jack felt sick. They’d…they’d killed their son. Their life’s work had… that much electricity… he must have been in utter agony. He wrapped his arms around his son, hugging him tight, feeling Danny cling to him. How many times had they attacked their own son? No wonder he’d pulled away over the years, he’d had to sit at the table with them as they threatened to rip him apart molecule by molecule.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Danny.”

“I wanted to tell you…but I was scared.”

“It’s our fault,” Jack assured him. “You are our son Danny, no matter what. And Phantom…all the times you’ve helped and we just wouldn’t listen. I want to hear everything, all the good and bad. I want to know you, Danny, both sides of you.”

He felt Danny shaking in his arms, tears soaking into his hazmat suit. How close had they come to killing him over the years? If he had died as Phantom, what would have happened to him? Would he become a full ghost? Cease to exist?

How was he meant to explain this to Maddy? Would she understand?

“Dad?” Jazz called, frozen on the stairs as she stared at them. “Danny?” she asked in alarm.

“It’s okay,” Danny answered, a shaky smile on his face even as he reached an arm out to her. “Dad knows.”

“Dad?” She stared at him and Jack nodded.

“It’s okay Jazz.”

She rushed to them, joining the hug. They were the Fenton’s; they would deal with this. Everything would be fine now. They would explain to Maddie and then they would work to re-learn their kids trust. The house defences would need a serious overhaul, it should have been done years ago when the weapons started targeting Danny. Did he even feel safe in his own home?

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Maddie stared from her husband to her children, something had happened while she was gone, but what? They all looked alright, just very serious. Even Jack and that was concerning. He was always so light-hearted, even when hunting ghosts.

“Maddie, take a seat, we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he told her.

She felt the comforting weight of the lipstick laser in her pocket, eyeing them all. Danny was shifting nervously, Jazz holding his hand comfortingly. Oh, was he finally going to come out to them? Surely, he knew they wouldn’t be mad, no matter who he liked. She relaxed and sat down. Obviously, Danny was very nervous and so Jack was being serious to show to him that they would take his words seriously and accept him for who he was.

“Alright,” she smiled at her son, “I’m listening sweety.”

“Mom…” Danny took a deep breath, looking from Jazz to Jack for support. “I’m Phantom.”

Her mind went blank, body acting on autopilot.

TBC…

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: Don’t own

Chapter 1

Bruce glanced at his calendar, seeing he had a meeting with one of Wayne Enterprises newest hires, one Jack Nightingale. The man had been with them for a few months now and while his ideas were…unorthodox, they worked. He looked up and smiled as Tim walked in, a tray of coffee cups in hand and his tie half undone. “Busy morning?” he asked, and Tim groaned, setting the tray down.

“The busiest,” his son groaned, collapsing into the chair beside him. Looking at him, it was hard to believe he’d just turned twenty-three, he still had something of a baby face, looking younger than he was.

Then again, in a few months Damian would be eighteen. Where had the years gone? It was hard to believe it had been eight years since Damian had appeared on the doorstep, dropped off by his mother. He’d only seen Talia a handful of times since then and in the last few years she’d been busy locked in a war with her father. He suspected Tim had helped her a few times but had never asked, he didn’t know what had happened between Tim and Ra’s while he was lost in time and he doubted either would ever tell him the full story. But Tim had enraged him enough to be literally kicked out a window and have the occasional ninja show up, Bruce had assumed in warning but that didn’t seem right. Some of them seemed…almost deferential to Tim…had his son managed to steal away some of Ra’s loyal men?

“Tie,” he murmured, and Tim grimaced but did it back up.

And was that…no, he wasn’t asking, his son was an adult, Bruce didn’t know what he got up to with his boyfriend. Though he was kind of hoping for news of an engagement soon, they’d been dating since they were eighteen after all. Then again, Babs and Dick had been on and off again since they were Robin and Batgirl. Were none of his children ever going to marry? Not that he was old enough to be a grandfather, not for many years yet.

“What do you think of Nightingale’s work?” he asked, and Tim opened his laptop, checking some files.

“Very innovative, especially the ideas on green energy alternatives.”

“But?” Bruce looked at him, and Tim leant back in chair.

“I don’t think it’s all his ideas. Some things seem as if someone else is behind them,” Tim admitted, and Bruce nodded. Hence todays meeting.

He hadn’t actually met the man so finding himself facing someone even taller and more broadly built was a shock. But there was a jovial air to the man, nothing threatening at all, despite the grief buried in his eyes. Right, a recent widower and he’d lost his daughter at the same time. Had his wife been an inventor too, maybe that was why his work was the way it was?

“Good afternoon, Mr Wayne…s?” the man greeted and Bruce saw Tim blink at the greeting. Well, it was confusing with the two of them there.

“Please, take a seat Mr Nightingale, coffee?” Bruce indicated the remaining cup, almost blinded by the man’s grin.

“Thank you.” He took the cup and sat. “And Jack’s fine.”

“Jack then, call me Bruce,” he gave a Brucie smile, enjoying the slight grimace Tim gave in response.

“Tim,” his son offered, waving a hand tiredly.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked, looking at Tim in concern.

“Late night call with the Hong Kong office,” he admitted, covering a yawn. Not to mention several hours of patrol. Sometimes his children seemed to forget that they were human.

“Ah, glad I don’t run a company then,” Jack shook his head.

“It has its good points,” Bruce stepped in. “So, Jack. You’ve been working here for four months now; how do you like it?”

“The labs are incredible!” the man gushed about the labs, equipment, even the safety measures!

“If I can ask,” Tim spoke up when he paused, “some of your ideas seem as if they are a collaboration?”

“Ah, yes,” Jack paused, taking a deep breath. “My son, Danny, is rather brilliant himself. He likes to help out when he can,” he explained, a soft yet sad smile on his face.

“How old is he? Would he be interested in an internship?” Bruce asked.

“He’ll be eighteen soon,” the proud smile faded a little. “Danny…he was in the accident that killed his mother and sister,” he whispered, and Bruce hid a wince. “It left him permanently injured, getting around is very hard for him now. He does school online and is catching back up. He can’t even manage leaving the apartment so thank you for the kind offer, but it wouldn’t be possible.”

“Is your building handicapped accessible?” Tim asked in concern.

Jack shook his head. “No, we couldn’t afford one.”

Bruce scowled. “Well, we can fix that.”

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Jack didn’t like lying, but it was the best explanation and one he had practiced a lot so that no one would question it. It’s what their records said after all. Danny had arranged it all through some Ghosts! They had been so wrong about everything. If only…but no, they had to continue on with their lives. He had a son to care for and protect. They still had too many enemies searching for them, but despite the high ectoplasm levels, Gotham had very few Ghosts. It did have a lot of vigilantes though, and they would not like it if things happened in Gotham like they had in Amity.

Danny was half human, he needed access to both worlds to be healthy, otherwise Jack would have urged him to move to the Realms. Surely, he would be safer there and maybe even heal fully from what those monsters had done. His baby boy who once dreamed of Nasa now never left their apartment.

The offer to help them get an accessible one was nice, but he knew Danny would still remain inside. He didn’t like the stares now and Jack understood, as much as it hurt to have him so isolated. The events around his injuries played a part in his unwillingness to leave the apartment and see others. Sam…he never would have imagined.

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Tim watched as Jack Nightingale left the room and then looked at Bruce. “There’s something about the son,” he murmured, and Bruce nodded.

He brought up the boy’s last id and Tim snickered, making Bruce stare at him

“No empty nest adoptions B, he’s Damian’s age and already has a dad,” he teased but yeah, he was definite Wayne adoption bait. Black hair, blue eyes, a crooked grin, he’d fit right in. though from what jack had and hadn’t said…the photo was no longer accurate.

Bruce brought up the accident report and Tim read it over, feeling a mix of sadness and anger. A drunk driver had hit the Nightingale’s car on their way back from a school event. Danny had been in the front passenger side and the car had hit on the driver’s side, where his sister was sitting behind their mother as well. He’d been left, trapped in the car, for hours before rescuers could cut him free. It must have been horrifying…and his mother had been killed on impact so he’d been trapped next to her corpse while listening to his sister die.

And then Tim grinned as Bruce gave the man a raise, increasing his company health coverage as well to ensure that Danny was well cared for. The teen was obviously very smart, he must have fallen behind with school while recovering from the accident and then in moving to Gotham. It was always nice to help a struggling family. Hmm…Danny was the same age as Damian…

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Black Bat followed Red Robin across the rooftops, handling the small crimes that popped up, but her brother seemed to have a goal in mind. He finally stopped on a fire escape, peering into the apartment across the way. So, she signalled a question to him but he shook his head in response.

She spotted a massive man, bigger than B, moving around the apartment. He then turned towards a corner she couldn’t see, two plates in hand, a soft smile on his face. They watched a little longer but the other person never moved into sight.

They left and she shot a curious look at Tim who sighed. “The man is Jack Nightingale; he works for WE. The other one would be his son, Danny, he’s Damian’s age. His mother and sister died in a car accident that left him disabled.”

She frowned at that, saddened for the poor family.

“Seems Danny’s locked away in the apartment since the building isn’t accessible but his Dad said he won’t leave even if it is.”

“You want to help.”

He nodded. “B’s upped the health insurance and pay.”

She smiled at that, of course he had.

“Even got to tease him a bit, Danny’s pre-accident photo is what is commonly known as adoption bait.”

She giggled at that as they raced across Gotham. He did have a rather interesting habit after all. Though there had been no new siblings since Duke, which meant Damian was the last baby of the family. So sad. Maybe Dick would give B grandkids? That question had Tim laughing.

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Damian wandered through the building, wondering why Father had asked him to come today. There did not seem to be anything special happening. Had there been a security threat? Doubtful. He spotted Timothy in one of the labs, working on something but he couldn’t tell what from the hallway and he knew better than to enter without gear. His brother looked up and saw him, waving, and Damian nodded.

It was strange, thinking of Timothy as his brother, but it had become more natural as time passed. He had been the one in the wrong back then, but Timothy had forgiven him and they had moved on. He was actually closer to him than their other siblings, his relationship with Richard was different, complicated, due to him being the adult responsible for Damian when Father was ‘dead’. They couldn’t just go back to trying to be brothers after that so it had left them in a kind of limbo, with Richard fluctuating between trying to be a father-figure and an older brother.

Timothy left the lab, safety goggles shoved up into his hair, gloves removed. “Hey Dami, not like you to be here on a weekday. Everything okay?”

“Father asked me to come today but did not say why.”

“Huh,” Timothy frowned. “He didn’t say anything to me either. It’s time for lunch, anyway, want to help me annoy him into taking a break?”

“Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle?” he asked, keeping his face straight, getting a laugh from his brother.

“I’m not as bad as I used to be,” he argued, and that was true. Bernard had done wonders for Timothy’s health and sleep habits. Damian approved of the blond, even if he was a little too fond of strange conspiracy theories.

Most of his siblings had found someone…except him. Jon was his best friend but he had no romantic interest in him at all. And he was three years younger than Damian, he wanted someone close in age and maturity. Those of his class in Gotham though…well, they left a lot to be desired. He didn’t want some vapid heiress or some young man who only wanted Father’s money. He wanted a true partner. Like Richard and Barbara or Timothy and Bernard. Bernard was a civilian but he was not helpless, he had fought at Red Robin’s side before and he was now a trained paramedic and so helped them in the medical bay when needed. And Barbara had been the first Batgirl before becoming Oracle. She had not let her disability stop her, something he admired.

There were few within their community of his age, he fell into an odd gap, it was why he had joined Timothy’s generation of Titan’s. A new group looked to be coming up but they were all in their early teens. He would rather mix with those older than him if he had to than so many years younger. But it meant he was unlikely to find someone who had the same night life as them, the only one there who had yet to pair off was Bart Allen…and he would drive Damian insane within hours should he even contemplate trying to court the speedster. Kon-El and Cassandra Sandsmark were together again and it seemed this time they would last. There were few others even in that age range and most were retired fully or were not interested, or vice versa.

He did not wish to be like Father with a different woman on his arm at every gala. The very idea made him shudder. But he wanted companionship beyond friendship as well.

He followed Timothy up to Father’s office only to find him working away at something. He was glad Father had come back to WE eventually, it had been far too much stress for Timothy to run it at seventeen and without even finishing high school. It was much better for the two of them to work together and share the load. And Damian hoped to join them within a few years.

“Father, we have come to collect you for lunch. You will join us,” he stated firmly, ignoring Timothy’s amusement when Father started slightly. It was always amusing to sneak up on him. Timothy and Cassandra were the best to work with when trying though, the three of them were the quietest of their siblings.

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Bruce smiled at the sight of his sons standing together in the doorway and not a weapon or any blood in sight. He’d once thought that an impossible dream but then one day, the hatchet had been buried and neither boy would speak of it. He saved the document he was working on and stood.

“Alright boys where are we going?” he asked, he’d never say no to lunch with any of his children if he had a choice.

“How about that Mediterranean place down the road, they have some good vegan options.”

“That would be agreeable.”

And one day, maybe Damian would learn to speak like a teenager and not an old man. Thankfully, no one really took offence at it anymore. They entered the elevator, the boys discussing meal options, and Jack Nightingale got on as well on the lab level, grinning at them in greeting.

“Jack, this is my youngest, Damian. He’s the same age as your Danny.”

“Nice to meet you Damian,” Jack sounded genuinely happy to meet the teen who simply nodded where once he would have scoffed at the greeting.

They were on the second floor when the elevator stopped, alarms blaring, the building going into lock down. And with a civilian witness there was nothing the three of them could do, wonderful.

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He watched as the news cut to the Wayne Enterprises building where the Scarecrow had attacked with a bunch of goons…no, he couldn’t lose another…

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Tim moved to the control panel, hacking in to bring up the security cameras on the small screen. “Scarecrow,” he announced once he spotted the man. “Good sized crew too. We’re between floors so relatively safe from the gas, unless they throw some down the shaft.”

“They likely to do that?” Jack’s question was a reminder that he wasn’t a native.

“It’s possible,” B admitted, even as he opened the panel that held emergency gas masks. “Attacks during the day in the middle of the business district are rare though.”

“He must be after something specific then,” Damian pointed out.

“That new delivery system?” Tim murmured. It wasn’t really meant for gassing people but with a little alteration…he’d be able to gas half a building in one go. Had they added the features to keep it from being altered that way yet?

“So do we try and get out or sit and wait?” Jack asked, leaning against the wall.

For someone so new to Gotham he was pretty calm, which was good for them. Between him and Bruce, the elevator wasn’t feeling all that spacious at the moment either. Bruce realised that and leant against another wall, giving him and Damian as much space as possible. Good thing Jason wasn’t with them, he was still claustrophobic, not that anyone could blame him.

“For now, we wait. If things change then we reevaluate. But the alarms will alert the police and Signal, the daytime Batclan member. He can deal with the Scarecrow pretty easily while the cops handle the goons,” Bruce explained. “You’ve been through the evacuation briefings?”

“First day, but they had different instructions depending on how the attack was going?”

Looked like they might need to overhaul them again, they had to every couple of years at most.

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Jack didn’t like being stuck in an elevator with the two Co-CEO’s and the likely heir. They were way too tempting a target. What Fenton…Nightingale tech did he have on…Spectre deflector altered to ignore Danny, no use…fifth gen thermos which wasn’t really a thermos anymore but they kept the name for the memories… the wrist laser hidden in his watch likely wouldn’t help much, unless they ended up needing to cut their way out of the elevator. He missed his old goggles and hazmat suit sometimes. He could hide so much tech in that.

And then his other wrist beeped and he frowned. A ghost…oh no. Danny…

TBC….

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter 2

He flew fast, right for the WE building which thankfully was a very obvious landmark. And finding his Dad was easy too, he was the only one there with Ghost tech after all. It seemed he was…stuck in an elevator? But that meant he was safe enough for now. That left him free to deal with the issue, namely the idiot who thought he could compete with Fright Knight. Yeah right. Maybe he should let them meet? No…too much power was not good.

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Damian was not at all happy to be trapped in the elevator with a civilian. Without the man there, they could be doing something. But they could not do anything that might give away their identities. Distant screams reached them and Damian frowned, staggering slightly as the elevator shook, surprised when Nightingale steadied him, the man shifting his body to act as a support and protection. He should feel embarrassed by such a thing, he didn’t need it, but it was such an automatic move that it was hard to feel bad…right, he had a son the same age as Damian. Therefore, he would allow the actions.

The elevator shook again, Father catching Drake when he bounced off the wall, a hand going to his head, coming away with blood. A head wound was not good but he was still conscious.

“How good are the breaks on this?” Nightingale asked softly.

“The best,” Father answered, holding Drake close, checking on Damian who nodded, he was fine.

Nightingale looked down at him, something he was no longer used to as he had inherited Father’s height. He was taller than Timothy and Richard now, though not as tall as Father or Jason, yet. “Alright?” he asked, sounding concerned, and Damian nodded.

“Thank you,” he said as politely as possible.

And then there was a loud boom above them, Father lifting Timothy right off his feet, shielding him with his body, and Damian found Nightingale wrapped around him protectively. Then his stomach dropped as the elevator began to plummet…the emergency breaks…

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Jack did his best to shield the younger Wayne but a falling elevator…if the breaks didn’t catch soon then they were going to die. And then he felt the alert on his watch grow stronger, an approaching ghost. Even with all of them in it, Phantom could easily catch and save the elevator. But could he do it without being seen? His son would be able to track his location due to the family tech, it had an ecto-signature different to that of a living being…and he was pretty sure his son could track him without it. Looking back, their lab safety had been non-existent, they weren’t as badly contaminated as some due to their hazmat suits but they were contaminated.

He could see the well-hidden fear in Mr Wayne’s eyes, not for himself but his children. And then their descent slowed before reversing, the elevator rising. He heard the elder son mutter something but it wasn’t loud enough for him to make out, and then the elevator was moving sideways, being pushed out of the shaft, coming to a stop. He felt the brush of a ghostly presence, saw the younger Wayne shiver slightly, seeming confused.

Phantom had reached them in time and saved them, but then young Tim slumped fully against his father, eyes rolling back in his head.

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“Tim?” Bruce called in alarm as his son went limp. He hadn’t thought he’d hit his head that hard. “Tim, Sweetheart, can you hear me?” He supported Tim’s head, seeing his eyes roll.

“He needs medical attention,” Jack stated firmly and then moved to the doors. He gripped them and pulled.

Bruce was shocked when, despite the lockdown protocol, the man managed to pull them open. How strong was he? Was he a meta? He wedged his body against the door to hold it open and waved Damian forward.

“Out you go kid,” Jack ordered, and Damian hesitated but Bruce nodded so he slipped out.

“I shall find aide,” Damian announced and took off. They were back on the floor where Bruce and Tim’s offices were, which meant emergency stashes, Damian would likely change and then return to ‘rescue’ Tim and take him to help. With careful manoeuvring, he managed to get out of the elevator, reluctantly handling Tim’s limp form to Jack for a moment. Once he and Tim were clear, Jack stepped forward, letting the doors close behind him.

Bruce carefully lay Tim on the ground and Jack helped perform first aid, checking Tim’s spine just to be safe while Bruce checked his pupil response. Thankfully, it seemed to be a mild concussion but where was whichever Super who had saved them? Surely, they knew Tim was injured.

And then Robin ran into view as if he had come from the stairs. “Mr Wayne is everything alright?” he asked, hand on his sword.

“Robin,” Bruce managed a relieved look. “My son is hurt, he needs help.”

Robin nodded and knelt, pulling out a first aid kit, working to stabilise Tim’s head, bandaging the wound. “I can get him to the paramedics faster.” He drew a birdarang and threw it at the window, breaking it to give him an exit.

The windows were made to break under those circumstances, and Bruce made sure to hesitate before carefully helping Robin lift Tim. Jack held Tim in place, leaving Bruce and Robin to strap him to Robin’s chest. And then they were out the window.

“He’ll be alright, he seems a strong boy and the bone was intact.”

Bruce nodded, there didn’t seem to be a skull fracture or anything, so Tim should be fine. But his lack of spleen made everything riskier. If he could get Tim to retire to a roll like Babs’, he would, but Tim would never agree.

“We should go,” Jack put a hand on his shoulder, and Bruce grimaced.

But he was right. “This way,” he led him to the secondary staircase, it was the better secured so more likely to be safe.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Jack was exhausted when he got home, unlocking the door and kicking off his shoes. “Danny?”

“Here,” the soft answer came, and Jack approached the couch to see Danny sprawled there, an ice pack on his head.

He reached down to gently ruffle bi-coloured hair. “How do you feel?” he asked softly.

Danny mustered a tired smile. “Okay. What about you?”

“I’m good. You did great kiddo, I’m proud of you,” he praised, watching Danny blush slightly. “You saved Bruce, Tim, and Damian Wayne as well.”

“Really? Huh. Did they ask?” he yawned.

“No, I think they thought a local hero stepped in and Robin showed up just after we got out of the elevator. Tim Wayne was injured as the elevator began to fall and passed out so Robin took him down the outside of the building, it looked fun.”

That got a tired smile, his son drifting to sleep. Jack sat down on the couch, sliding under Danny’s head, gently stroking his hair, ignoring the permanent chill to his skin. He was so proud of his son, he just wished…he closed his eyes, pushing back the tears.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Dick stared at Tim as he lay in the hospital bed, he always looked so small when asleep. Getting the call had him racing to the hospital, terrified for his brother, but the doctors didn’t seem to think he was in any real danger, though they had put him on a course of antibiotics given it was an open wound. He took a limp hand in his as he sat in the visitors chair, Bruce and Damian were caught up with the police so that left him in charge. Damian had dropped Tim with the paramedics and then dashed back inside since they’d been with a civilian.

“Dick?” a familiar voice called softly, and he waved Steph in. “How is he?”

“Doctors don’t think it’s serious,” he assured her, seeing her relax. “He’s probably just grabbing the chance for a nap,” he teased, and she laughed.

“Did you call Bernard?”

“He called me, saw the attack on the news, he’s on his way as soon as his shift’s over,” Dick explained. Being a paramedic, it wasn’t easy for him to leave mid-shift unless it was truly dire. At least he was based out of the same hospital…and there he was, still in uniform. Dick immediately moved out of the way, letting him approach.

Bernard checked the chart, scanning over it, relaxing as he did. “Oh Tim,” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Tim’s forehead. “Is everyone else, okay? We got stuck on a bridge accident.”

“A few injuries have been brought in, mostly from fear gas exposure. A handful were caught in the explosion but no deaths,” yet at least, burns could be touch and go. “Scarecrow was caught pretty quickly thankfully.”

Bernard nodded absently, mostly focused on Tim so they slipped out of the room to give them privacy.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Bruce wanted to be with Tim, but Dick was there and had just messaged that Bernard had arrived, so he was well looked after. With that covered, he had a puzzle to solve. Scarecrow. He looked at the man who stared vacantly at the wall, eyes glazed, pulse too high. He’d suspect he’d gassed himself except the man was mostly immune to his own concoctions.

“Batman.”

“Commissioner,” he answered.

“We found him like this, all his men out cold around him. Not your lots doing? Robin was spotted.”

“No, he was there on evacuation duty. His orders were to not engage due to numbers,” he lied. “Signal was also present and working his way inside.”

Signal had been there as soon as he’d gotten the lockdown alert and they had thought Clark, Kon, or Jon but a call had proved their saviour was not one of the Kent’s. So, who had caught them and taken them to safety? An unknown Meta? It was possible, it wasn’t like they blood tested employees. A strong telekinetic could have theoretically saved the elevator without the need of flight or superstrength.

“Do we know why Scarecrow attacked the building?”

“A new gas delivery system the R&D department was working on,” Bruce answered.

“Good thing he was stopped then.”

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

“Welcome home Master Tim,” Alfred greeted him, despite the fact that Tim didn’t actually live in the Manor anymore, sharing the apartment with young Master Bernard.

“Thanks Alfie,” he murmured, head still bandaged and a little wobbly.

Happily, he’d been cleared of any bad effects from his wounds, it appeared that the sudden drop of the elevator had been what caused his unconscious since he had taken a mild concussion from hitting his head on the wall. If it hadn’t fallen then, Timothy would have been alright with just a concussion watch at home.

Master Dick flashed him a grin and then helped Tim up to his old room to rest. They wanted him under observation which was why he had come back to the Manor since Bernard had three days of shifts and couldn’t get off after an attack.

“Hey kiddo,” Jason’s voice sounded, something that had become more common in the Manor as the years passed, much to Alfred’s happiness. He knew it pleased Master Bruce as well, as little as he seemed able to show it.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Damian studied all of the information carefully. It did not make any sense. No known super or Meta had been on sight and yet the elevator had been saved and Scarecrow dealt with. Blood work ruled out any drugs causing the man’s ongoing state, another Meta ability? What could scare Crane into catatonia? Some kind of telepath perhaps, was there one on staff without Father and Timothy knowing? That could be dangerous, but if they hadn’t revealed their identities by now than they would likely continue to remain quiet.

He found Nightingale’s reaction to it all to be odd for a non-native Gothamite. He had remained remarkably calm despite the fact that they had been plummeting to their deaths. His move to protect Damian could be excused due to his age and the man’s son, but the calmness in the face of certain death? Unless he was the Meta who had saved them somehow? Or perhaps knew who it was if not him? Though the way he had forced the doors suggested beyond normal strength levels, it should have taken a Super to force them.

Looking into the man, he seemed completely normal, a widower with only his son left. He studied the photo of Daniel Nightingale; it was a few years old and he was glad that they had not come to Gotham earlier. Then again, Daniel had a living parent…though that had not stopped Father from taking Stephanie on.

It was strange that there were no more up to date photos of the boy though.

“Wonder what he looks like now,” Timothy murmured, and Damian spun to glare at his brother.

“You are meant to be resting,” he stated, arms crossed.

“Left my favourite hoodie down here last time, I’m heading right back to bed,” Timothy promised.

Damian eyed him warily but he didn’t appear to be lying. Wait. “What did you mean?”

“Daniel was in the accident that killed his mother and sister. He’s disabled now, permanently scarred too. It’s why we’re working to get them moved to better housing but apparently his Dad doesn’t think he’ll leave the apartment even if it is accessible.”

That was concerning.

“He actually helps his Dad with some of his work, apparently he’s very smart, B offered an internship, but…” Timothy shrugged, and Damian nodded. His brother slipped into the changing room and came back out with an oversized Supernova hoodie. Not that it was much different to the old Superboy ones as Conner had not made many changes to his look with the new identity. He pulled it on and then the hood up, proving that he did not feel well.

“I shall retire as well,” he shut down the computer and moved to walk with Timothy, ignoring the small smile on his brother’s face. He was not doing this to ensure he made it upstairs in one piece, he had simply finished for the night since he was not on patrol.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

He watched out the window as people went about their lives, missing being a part of it. How much worse would it be if he lived before the internet? He would be finishing high school soon and hoped to attend GU online for aerospace engineering. His Dad had been given a raise and with scholarships, they could easily afford it which was nice. They’d never been poor but before, most of the money went into their research. Dad wasn’t very good at budgeting so it was left to Danny, but his Dad did the cooking and it wasn’t all Fudge.

With just the two of them and Danny’s…limitations, they’d had to work a lot out. From chores to Danny’s therapy, it hadn’t been easy. And Danny knew the early days had been really bad, when he’d woken every night screaming, his Dad holding and rocking him.

But he wasn’t Danny Fenton anymore, he was Daniel Nightingale. Fenton had died strapped to a lab table and cut open.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Gotham was strange but also far more used to the crazy than even Amity Park, likely because it had been happening for longer. So, they were all back to work within days, just having to take the stairs since the elevators were all being overhauled to be safe. Those who could not use the stairs were either working remotely or being given paid leave.

The Waynes seemed to truly care for their employees in a way that was rarely seen. He’d gotten a raise after meeting them and he’d also noticed his health insurance had been improved as well. All because of Danny? His son would love the labs in the building, it was a pity he would never come and work there. No, it would be too dangerous. If they were found…

He was glad Tim was alright, he even made it back to the office a day after most of the staff, a light bandage over the wound. If Phantom had not arrived when he had…he supposed they could have screamed for Superman? But his actions had obviously raised questions though the Wayne’s didn’t seem to be doing anything about it. He knew forcing those doors had been risky but he’d been worried for the young man. How had they never realised how contaminated they were and the effects it was having?

Sometimes, he thought of finding a job that he could do from home but Danny had made it clear that he was not doing that. And Danny deserved his privacy. He was proud of his son, of how far he’d come in recovering from what had happened. He just wanted him to be healthy and happy, but was that even possible? If only Jazz…she’d know what to do. He missed his baby girl so much and he knew Danny missed her as well. She had been his closest confidant after all, more a mother to him in many ways than Maddie had ever been after they had gotten caught up in their work.

All he could do was look after Danny and keep working to support him.

TBC….

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter 3

He gently stroked his son’s hair back off his face even as the kid coughed wetly. He couldn’t scold him for what he’d done, not when he’d saved them all, but his body hadn’t needed the extra strain. He whimpered, and Jack gently gathered him into his arms. “It’s alright Danno, I’m here,” he murmured.

So far, the miracle with the elevator seemed to have been brushed off and the Wayne’s hadn’t mentioned his opening the doors. He’d had to use all his considerable strength to do so, not something he often had to do. He understood now what their lax safety measure had done to their whole family. It was only because the wore the hazmat suits all the time that the home defences hadn’t targeted them as well but they’d been blind to it all…too obsessed.

Once, going Ghost had been as easy as breathing for Danny but now…it had been a week and he was still suffering. His son, the hero no one could ever know about.

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“Hello Bruce,” Barbara greeted the man with a smile. It was odd for him to seek her out like this and it had her concerned.

“Hello Babs,” he leant down and kissed her cheek. “Busy day?”

“The busiest,” she teased, waving a hand at the mostly empty library. “What brings you by?”

“I was hoping for help on an employee project.”

“Okay, I’m curious.” She leant back in her chair.

“A recent hire has a son the same age as Damian. He was recently left disabled to the point that it is all but impossible for him to leave their apartment,” he explained and she winced, that could cover a lot of things, even just being permanently on crutches given the state of a lot of Gotham apartment buildings.

“And?” She had a feeling she might just know where this was going.

“I want to being working on affordable housing for those with disabilities. I was thinking of renovating an apartment building to start with.”

“Start small, for you anyway, and see how it goes,” she nodded. “So, you want my input on the changes I’ve had done, what works well and what needs better designs?”

He nodded.

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

Honestly, she was surprised he hadn’t done something like this before. He’d given money to help with her rehab and the fixing up of the Gordon home and then her apartment after all. And the Clocktower was all Wayne money too.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Danny smiled as his Dad presented him with a cake, sparklers on top of it. He’d done it! He’d finished high school. It wasn’t how it was meant to be, no walking across the stage with his family cheering…no friends…nothing but him and Dad. Sometimes it felt like his Core would shatter under the weight of his grief, but he couldn’t do that to him. His dad promised that even if he became a full ghost, he would still love him, that it wouldn’t change anything. But a shattered Core? He would cease to exist; he would be Ended.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dad grinned at him, ruffling his hair, and Danny leant into the touch.

“Thanks,” he whispered, he only ever whispered anymore. “Cake now!” he demanded and his Dad laughed.

He loved seeing his Dad happy again. He’d wondered if he ever would be, after Mo… Maddie. Jazz would have known what to say, how to help, but she was gone now. Tucker and Val were protecting Amity, he was her guy in the chair now, though he’d fried her tech at first in warning apparently. He wondered how they were doing but they didn’t dare look into Amity Park, it was too big a risk. As far as they knew, Vlad had bought the cover story but Danny would never really feel safe from the older halfa. Surely, he’d lose interest in him though if they ever met again. Sam…Sam made his Core ache in a similar way that Maddie did. He’d trusted her!

No! Not thinking about that. Tonight was a happy night.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Tim blinked and then popped his head into the other lab, seeing Jack Nightingale practically dancing on the spot as he worked away. “Good day?” he called curiously.

The man turned, flushing slightly in embarrassment. “Oh, Mr Wayne…I didn’t see you there.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Tim shook his head.

“No intrusion. Are you feeling better now?” the man’s gaze went to his head, and Tim found his fingers brushing over where the wound had been, thankful that his hair hid the scar.

“All healed,” he promised. “Thanks for protecting Damian, he’s a prickly little thing but he’s my little brother.”

That got a chuckle. “Siblings.”

Tim just shrugged. “So…good day?”

“Uh, we had a little party last night. Danno has officially graduated!” he stated proudly.

“That’s great!” Tim grinned at him, happy for the family. With all the tragedy they’d gone through, they deserved some happy news.

“He’s already planning his application for Gotham University.”

“They’ve got some really great programs,” Tim told him, though he’d probably already looked into it. He’d considered going a few years back; to try something more normal but he just never had the time. “With him working with you on things, do you think he’d like to try something new?”

The look in Nightingale’s eyes was wary now though most probably wouldn’t notice. “Like?”

“Well, would he like to work on other projects as well? From home,” Tim quickly assured him, even if the thought of someone so young stuck at home made him feel horrible. Did he have a counsellor of some type to help him? He had to be a huge risk for depression. “It could be an internship till he starts class then he could drop it if it’s too much or keep going if he’s comfortable.”

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Jack stared at the young man he worked for. A paid internship that he could work on from home. It…it sounded perfect. He understood why Danny refused to leave the apartment but he hated how cut off his son had become. But if he could connect with some of Jack’s co-workers, at least it would be something, even if outside of the Wayne’s, they were all considerably older than Danny.

“I’ll talk to him,” he finally answered.

“I’ll write up an official offer so he can see what he’d be getting into. Have a good day.”

Jack shook his head, it still felt strange to have such powerful people trying to help. He’d heard about the apartment building the elder Mr Wayne had bought and was having renovated for the disabled.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Danny stared at the official paperwork in shock. Tim Drake-Wayne himself had written the contract, Tucker would be so jealous if he knew! Did he want this? Could he do it? Helping Dad was one thing, but an official internship? Was it safe to have them both working for the Wayne’s? They were meant to be laying low after all.

“It’s your choice Danny, but this could be good for you. Start building a reputation, working with the people who could be your peers. Wayne Enterprises has an aerospace division after all.”

“Yeah,” he agreed and then coughed, rubbing his throat.

He read the contract again, no hidden clauses that he could spot…so he signed it and sent it back. He was now officially employed… Ancients! At least he didn’t need a suit? Or did an internship count as actual employment.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Tim grinned as he went over the latest work coming from the other labs, seeing the name Danny Nightingale on several very interesting projects. Seemed he was just as talented as his work with his Dad had suggested. He was glad he’d thought of an at home internship for him. It would give the teen something to do while waiting to hear about his college admission and let him earn his own money too which most teens appreciated. Sure, his dad was making a very nice wage (even better than normal thanks to Bruce’s meddling), but Tim knew from his siblings that most liked to have their own money. Money had never been a thing for him being the Drake heir and then taken in by B so he didn’t see it the same way, the same as Damian since he’d never needed it in the League.

He was honestly surprised B hadn’t done something like the apartment building remodel before. When Tim converted the Theatre, he’d made sure the apartments met all standards which included accessibility and earthquake but he hadn’t thought of buying more buildings to do the same with. Maybe he should start, or should he leave that as a Brucie thing to be involved in?

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Damian followed his father as they inspected the newly renovated building. It appeared to be good work but it was always best to check themselves. With the Wayne name involved, construction had mostly gone smoothly, for Gotham at least. The apartments were simple, clean and easy to maintain, secure as well.

“Will you be vetting applicants Father?” he asked, taking in the accessible bathroom.

“To a point, yes. We want to make sure these apartments go to those who truly need them.”

Damian nodded, glad that they would be ensuring no one snuck in who didn’t need this kind of help. They wandered into another apartment and Damian moved to the windows, taking in the view. “This one.”

“Damian?”

“This is the one that should be allocated to the Nightingales. His son will surely appreciate the view,” he explained. If he had not left the apartment they were currently in since they moved in then such a view of the Gotham skyscape would surely be something he would enjoy.

Father moved up to see what he had and then smiled at him. “Agreed.”

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Danny was wary, unsure, Vlad still a warning against the rich. But Bruce Wayne was known for doing this kind of thing. And it wasn’t just for them, the whole building had been redone as housing for the disabled. He hated taking one of the places but it would let him be more independent.

He remained hidden in his room when the movers came, the apartments were furnished so they didn’t need to pack anything except their personal belongings. He listened closely to the men as they worked, it didn’t take long and then they were gone again. He slowly wheeled himself out into the main room and his Dad smiled at him.

“Ready?” Dad asked, and Danny nodded.

He got onto the couch and Dad collapsed the wheelchair, taking it down to the car. When he returned, Danny had his jacket on, the hood pulled up to conceal his face.

“Up we go,” Dad grinned, and Danny rolled his eyes but let Dad lift him, curling into his chest.

He’d never gotten another growth spurt, never would now, and it made him feel like a kid when Dad picked him up and carried him around. The drive to the new building wasn’t bad, even with Gotham’s traffic, but it still felt strange being in a ‘normal’ car and not the GAV. Though, they had added some upgrades and extra security to it. The engine was completely green thanks to Danny, sadly it wasn’t a workable option for the world at large since it required Ectoplasm. He knew that was part of what the GIW was after, or their backers anyway, ‘green’ energy, literally. But it couldn’t happen, not without risking destabilising the Infinite Realms or taking Ghosts to drain theirs. But upgrading one car that Danny had access to? Piece of cake.

The new building had its own underground parking which was wonderful and soon he was being settled into his wheelchair. The elevator even played nice music! He was tired and Dad knew, pushing the chair for him.

Danny stared in shock at the apartment, everything was brand new and so clean…of course it was, this was all just finished but still…

“This is your room Danno,” Dad cheerfully pushed him to the second bedroom and Danny took in the space, the bed designed with wheelchair users in mind, the large windows, study desk, tv….

“It’s great,” he whispered, smiling as Dad ruffled his hair.

“Get settled in and how about Pizza tonight?”

“Sounds good,” he grinned.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

“Jack,” Bruce approached the other man who smiled at him.

“Mr Wayne.”

“How’s the new apartment, all settled in?”

“Yep, Danno loves it. I think his room is the biggest he’s ever had. The new bed is a real help, gives him more independence.”

Bruce nodded, that suggested the teen might be in a chair which would explain his issues at their old place. “That’s good. Today’s your first board presentation, ready for it?” he asked, he always checked in with people before their first presentation, made sure they knew they had someone in the room on their side. It helped eased nerves a bit.

“Got it all…fudge,” the man grimaced, and then looked to the clock. “Uh…there’s not enough time to get to the apartment and back, is there?”

“No,” Bruce admitted after checking the time. “You left something at home? Is it vital?”

“Yeah,” Jack grimaced.

Bruce frowned and pulled out his phone, checking the location of his children. “Damian is close to the building. He could grab it and make it here in time,” he offered.

Jack hesitated but then grabbed his phone making a call. “Hey Danno. Yeah, everything’s fine kiddo. Can you see the second bag anywhere? Yeah, no…Mr Wayne’s son, Damian is going to come pick it up. No, you don’t have to let him in, you can pass it through the door. It’s okay,” he soothed.

Bruce swallowed but called Damian.

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Damian stood in the elevator, annoyed, but also curious. He knew Timothy wanted to meet Danny Nightingale due to the work he’d been submitting. Would Damian get to meet him? Father had said he likely wouldn’t be admitted to the apartment. A fear of social situations, Anthropophobia, or was it simply that he did not wish people to see whatever the accident had done to him? This was Gotham, it was unlikely any scars would get a second look. But they weren’t from Gotham so it would take time to realise and accept that.

The elevator arrived on the top floor and he stepped out, heading for the correct apartment where he knocked firmly. “Danny Nightingale? This is Damian Wayne, I am here to collect your father’s bag,” he announced at a volume he hoped would be heard through the door.

There was silence and then the sound of the door unlocking. It opened slightly and a pale hand appeared, the rest of the arm covered by a long sleeve. Damian reached out for the bag.

“Thank you. There is a very nice but not expensive Italian restaurant just down the block, would you like to join me for lunch?” he offered. He knew Father and Timothy were concerned for the boy and the fact he apparently never went out.

And then he heard a familiar soft sound, ah! A wheelchair. Was he perhaps still self-conscious about it? “Or perhaps I could bring you some take out from there once I deliver the bag?” he suggested instead. He wasn’t sure why but the idea of someone his age, having been trapped in a car with his dead mother and dying sister…it was a nightmare.

He had grown a lot since coming to Gotham, he saw the worth in others and loved his family. If he lost any of them…compassion, that was what he felt for Danny.

“’Kay,” came a soft whisper from the apartment.

Damian smirked, pleased to have gotten a response and soon he was on his way to hand over the bag.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

What was he doing? Danny stared at the closed door. Had he really agreed to that? No, it would be fine. Why would Damian Wayne actually bring him food? It was silly, he’d forget all about it once at the office with his dad. He seemed very different to how the papers said, but those were old papers. It had been what, eight years? Of course he’d be different to how he seemed then, plus the press didn’t always show people in the best light. He knew that well from all the horrible articles on Phantom.

He wheeled away from the door and got himself onto the couch, grimacing at the pain. Today was not a good day. He reached for the injection kit, the soft green glow reflecting off his face as he carefully measured a dose and then injected it. It was a stopgap measure at best. He knew what he actually needed, he just…had no way of getting it. Even gathering enough for the injections was difficult. A few days in the Realms would do a lot for his healing, time in the Far Frozen would be for the best. Why hadn’t Clockwork intervened? Was this how it was meant to be? The best timeline? What could be wor…no, he knew what would be worse.

Danny relaxed back into the cushions as the filtered ectoplasm went to work, moving through his body, pushing his healing just a little further, dulling the pain.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

He stared down into the lab where everyone was working diligently. They were making good progress. It was a pity they had lost Jack Fenton; he was the engineer of the two but Maddie thankfully had a good memory. She remembered a lot of the necessary schematics and she was determined to make it work. Ghosts had taken her family from her and she was very eager to make them pay. She was too fanatical even for them though. He wanted Phantom to study, she wanted it destroyed for her family. It was understandable but would not be allowed to happen. If she got in the way, then she would be removed, as simple as that.

TBC…

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter 4

Damian made his way back into the apartment building, bags in hand. It had not taken overly long to deliver the bag to Wayne Enterprises and then pick up the food. It was strange but he found he felt somewhat nervous. Would he open the door? He would not be surprised if the other teen doubted his promise to return with food. He knocked on the door firmly.

“Danny? It is Damian, I have returned with lunch,” he called out, listening intently for any movement.

It would take time to move around the apartment in a wheelchair, was it manual or electric? And he might be in his room or even the bathroom and need to transfer first. Damian was very patient when he needed to be and sure enough, a few minutes later he heard the locks on the door. It opened a crack and he held the bag out for Danny to take.

“I purchased a selection as I was unsure what your preferences are,” he explained, plus he didn’t know if he had any food restrictions or allergies.

Slowly, a pale hand slipped through the gap to take the back, Damian ensuring he had a good grip before releasing it. “Thanks,” was whispered to him. Shyness? Or something worse?

“I hope you enjoy the food,” Damian answered, sitting on the floor. “I will remain out here and we can have lunch together.”

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Danny felt rather bewildered. He’d come back which was shocking enough but then Danny looked in the bag to find a crazy number of different foods. And then he sat on the floor outside of the door and Danny could hear another bag rustling. He was going to sit and eat out there? Damian Wayne, the most formal of the Wayne kids eating on the floor?! He knew he should invite him in but…he couldn’t. Part of him really wanted to but he was too scared.

So, he pulled out some of the food and listened as Damian Wayne talked as they ate. It was strange but…nice.

“Would you like to do this again? There are many good restaurants around that we can try.”

Danny bit his lip, thinking.

“You do not need to speak or open the door to me; I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

It was so tempting but also very, very risky. Damian Wayne was a public figure, especially now that he was almost an adult. Soon the press would have no restrictions when it came to the youngest Wayne. If he came over then someone could get curious and begin looking into who he was visiting…would their id’s hold up to that kind of scrutiny? Even if they did, his Dad was rather distinctive, if a photo was printed…if they found them… but to have someone willing to visit…

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Damian finished his lunch, waiting for any response to his offer. It was strange, despite his childhood training as an assassin, he had lacked patience when he had come to Gotham. Years of stakeouts and waiting for results though had tempered that impatience. He was much better at waiting now, no matter the reason.

And then a pale hand appeared once more, holding an older style phone with a phone number displayed on it. Damian smirked, taking the phone to copy the number to his own phone before adding his number to Danny’s.

“Is this the best day for you or would another be better? I am unavailable on Monday and Thursday though.”

“It’s good,” was the soft answer, and Damian detected a rasp to his voice.

“Then I shall add it to my calendar,” he promised, handing back Danny’s phone.

A second later his own chimed with a text alert. The text was a single word, why?

“Because…I know what it is to be isolated. The first ten years of my life was spent with my Mother. She loved me, in her way, but it was very lonely. There were no other children and I spent all my time in study. It was not until I came to Gotham that I was allowed to be a child, to have a real family and friends. Though it did take me many years to adjust. Many would say I still have not.”

His phone chimed again – you want to be my friend? You don’t know me.

“I know you are an inventor smart enough to gain praise from Timothy and Father, I know that you have suffered greatly as well. I know that your Father tried to protect me that day in the elevator as well. I would like to get to know you.”

And a final message chimed – next week.

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Jack watched Danny move shakily across the room, gripping tightly to the bars. Any day when his son could get out of the chair was a good day and they were too few and far between. He wasn’t paralysed, there was no spinal damage which he might have actually been able to heal. The damage they had done though…if they could lessen the scars, it would at least help Danny’s self-confidence, maybe help convince him to leave the apartment even if just to come to the office with Jack.

He was glad that the youngest Wayne’s visit had gone so well. He understood Danny’s hesitance but the thought of him making a connection with someone gave Jack hope. The Wayne’s had decades of experience avoiding the press and ensuring they had privacy. Mr Drake-Wayne was dating and yet his partner was only ever in the press when they attended events together, very little was known of the young man. So, it wasn’t as big a concern as it would be with most other well-known families.

The Wayne’s seemed too good to be true, he knew his wages had gone up, as had his health coverage, once they knew about Danny. And this building suddenly being refitted when they found out that the one they’d been living in was inaccessible? Why? Why them?

“Dad?” Danny asked, and Jack smiled at him.

“What do you think of pizza tonight?” he asked, and Danny nodded, mouth pulling up in a half smile. 

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Bruce was surprised when the family calendar updated for Damian, blocking out two hours every Wednesday for a luncheon. Right after he’d met Danny Nightingale on a Wednesday…was it possible? Well, if he was spending time with a new friend, that was something to be encouraged. He didn’t really have any civilian friends; it would be good if he could make one. And Bruce would make sure none of the family pushed about Danny’s condition. Yes, they were curious, but it was none of their business.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Damian found himself looking forward to his weekly lunches with Danny, despite the lack of true conversation. The whispering seemed to be his voice which suggested an injury from the accident. He didn’t mind that Danny mostly communicated via text; he was at least willing to communicate. Given everything that he had been through, many would simply pull away entirely and cut themselves off from the world.

While he hoped that, one day, Danny would open the door, he did not expect it to happen. He was not waiting expectantly to be the first to see Danny Nightingale. He was not looking to get anything out of his visits, he just wanted to help.

Father owned the building so perhaps…would a pet help? Many people with disabilities found comfort in having an animal companion for company and even help. Dogs could be trained to pick objects up and retrieve things for those in wheelchairs. He would do some more research and present it to Jack Nightingale first.

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Bernard stretched out on the couch, exhausted. He loved his job, he did, but sometimes, the things he saw… Tim had been on the streets since he was a kid, sometimes he wondered how he had handled it all, especially before he became Robin. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head. “I love you,” he whispered, and Tim twisted enough to look up at him, a soft smile on his lips.

“I love you too.”

He loved Tim like this, soft and open in a way so few ever saw him. This was the real Tim; awkward and sometimes a bit shy, affection starved for so long, no masks. He brushed some hair back from Tim’s face before kissing him tenderly. He then reached around Tim for the coffee table drawer where he’d hidden something a while back. He’d been waiting, nervous, for the right time and right now…just felt right. His hand closed around the box and he pulled it back, opening the box before putting it where Tim could see. He smiled at blue eyes went wide.

“Ber?”

“Marry me?” he asked, heart in his throat.

Tim stared at the subtle silver band in the box, a ruby set flush into the band, the stone a close match in colour to his suit. No one outside of hero circles would know why Bernard had chosen a Ruby but no one would really question it. After all, non-diamond engagement rings had become more and more popular over the last decade. And he wasn’t worried about Tim’s silence, yes, his boyfriend could be very spontaneous and do things without thinking. But something like this? He was definitely thinking hard.

“You’re sure?” Tim whispered.

Bernard moved, sitting up and then getting off the couch to kneel in front of Tim. “I’m sure,” he promised. “I want to be with you, forever.”

Tim smiled and held his hand out, letting Bernard slip the ring on. “It’s perfect.”

“Three stores with Dick and Jason. Not sure if I was scared or excited,” he admitted, and Tim laughed. “And Damian was texting suggestions. He’s the one that snuck to size your finger.”

“That actually explains a lot,” Tim laughed.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Jason set a plate down on the table, smirking as Steph and Cass pulled Tim’s hand around to get a better look at his ring. It was simple and understated, perfect for Timmy. The kid might dress smart in those business suits but away from the office he was a very casual kind of guy. Little Timmy…all grown up and engaged. He still remembered the tiny kid who had stared into his helmet and refused to back down, even knowing Red Hood’s reputation and the threats he’d made against Robin.

Tim eventually got free of the girls and surprised Jason with a hug which he returned. “Ber said you helped with the ring. Thanks Jay.”

“It was a lot of fun.” He smirked and then wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulders. “Congratulations baby bird.”

“Thanks.”

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

He didn’t flaunt his ring but the whispers spread through the building quickly despite that. Jack was happy for him when he heard the news. The times he’d met the young Drake-Wayne, he’d like him. He’d given Danny something to do, to get proper experience and even pay. He was the kind of young man who would make any parent proud.

Jack had always thought one day, maybe Danny and Sam, but that was impossible. He might even shoot her himself if he ever saw her again. And with Danny’s condition…. Maddie had been the love of his life, he’d been blind to how obsessed she had become, how unthinkingly blind to evidence against their research… and it had cost him almost everything.

He had no plans of ever looking for another relationship but it hurt that with how Danny had cut himself off from everyone, that he would never have that. Although Danny was communicating with Damian Wayne, the youngest Wayne was going to the apartment every week and bringing Danny lunch. It must be so strange to eat through a barely cracked open door but it had been three months now and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Damian carried the bag of Mediterranean food up to the apartment, looking forward to another quiet lunch. He knocked on the door like he always did, Danny was usually waiting…but the door remained shut. “Danny?” he pulled out his phone and texted him but there was no response.

“Danny!” He called more urgently. He knocked louder but there was nothing. He tapped the first name in his phone, listening to it ring. “Father,” he said as soon as it was answered.

“What is it, Damian?” he asked, able to tell from his tone that something was wrong.

“I am at the Nightingale apartment; Danny is not answering the door or his phone. I am unsure how I am meant to proceed. Should I use the override code?” All the apartments had a code lock rather than the traditional key, one that had a Bat override in case of emergency.

“Hold on, I’ll call his Father. He might be at a doctor’s appointment or something and forgot to tell you.”

“Very well.” He didn’t like waiting, something felt…off.

“Jack said he should be inside.”

“I’m going in.” he hung up and entered the code, unlocking the door. “Danny?” he put the bag of food on the nearby counter. The open plan main room and kitchen were empty, the apartment silent.

And then he saw the fallen wheelchair…a sock covered foot. He moved closer and saw the teen sprawled on the floor, breathing but seemingly unconscious. Damian knelt down and carefully began searching for injuries…. new injuries.

TBC…

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter 5

“Danny, can you hear me?” Damian called, but the other teen didn’t stir at all.

He reached out and carefully took a thin wrist, pressing his fingers in…his pulse was slow but present, his chest rising and falling slightly. He wasn’t dead. Damian moved and very carefully moved the fallen wheelchair away, holding Danny’s legs and then straightening them as he set them back on the ground. He felt along his skull but nothing felt out of place or soft, no blood, so he probably didn’t have a head wound. Damian actually nearly jumped when his phone rang.

“Father,” he answered it. “I am in the apartment. Danny is unconscious, I am unsure if it is due to falling with his chair or if he passed out and the chair fell with him. He is breathing but his pulse is slow. I can find no signs of a head injury or any broken bones,” he reported.

He heard muffled speaking, Father likely relaying the information to Dr Nightingale. “His father said that his pulse is naturally slow due to a heart condition, his body temperature is also lower because of that. Does he seem to be in any pain?”

“No. Should I call an ambulance?”

More muffled speech and then Dr Nightingale was on the line, Father must have called him up to his office while Damian was getting into the apartment. “There’s a medical kit in the pantry. Inside is a small, padded container and inside that is an injection ready to go. It goes into the thigh so you’ll have to move his cloths. If you can move him onto the couch that’s fine, if not then a pillow and blankets on the floor. If he doesn’t start coming around five minutes after the shot, let me know. I’m on my way.”

“Understood.” He hung up and went to the kitchen, opening the pantry to find a larger than normal first aid kit but it made sense given Danny’s injuries.

He opened it and found the small, cushioned container, removing the injector, surprised to find it was solid metal. He moved back to where Danny was lying and carefully pulled his trousers down enough to reveal his thigh. He pressed the metal to skin and pressed the top, hearing the soft hiss as whatever medication within was administered. He looked over at the couch and then at Danny, easy.

Damian put the injector back in its case and then carefully lifted Danny, moving him to the couch, arranging the cushions to support his body and keep him from rolling over. He forced himself to not investigate the apartment, he would not violate their trust in such a manner, despite his curiosity. He was not the impulsive child he had once been.

His phone rang again, Timothy’s ringtone. “Timothy?”

“Are you okay?” his brother asked. “I saw Dr Nightingale run out of the building.”

“I am fine, it is Danny. I found him unconscious.”

“Is he alright?” the concern in Timothy’s voice was…nice.

“I have given him the medication his father specified and am waiting until the man arrives to ensure his safety.”

“Take a deep breath Dami,” Timothy murmured. “I know it’s scary, it’s the downside to civilian friends. We always worry more about them, even when it’s an illness or long-term condition. We’re too used to aliens and magic.”

He took a deep breath as his brother said, mulling over his words. He had never worried about Jon like this, but Jon was half Kryptonian, there was little that could harm him. He did worry when his first friend was injured but Timothy was right, this felt different.

He looked at Danny, so still and pale…scarred. He was used to scars; they were very common given their nightlives. They had been badges of honour before coming to Father, proof of survival. But Danny’s…were they why he would not leave the apartment? Children could be very cruel to anyone who looked different, he had faced some of that when he started at Gotham Academy. While he looked a lot like his Father in build and facial features, even hair colour, everything else he got from his mother. That meant her darker skin tone and green eyes. And the Gotham elite were all rather pale, Jason had once asked if it was genetics or Gotham’s horrible environment, Timothy had thrown a dinner roll at him.

And then he realised. “He’s rousing.”

“Talk to you later, just stay calm.”

He put his phone away and then forced himself to lean back, assuming a completely relaxed posture, one that would hopefully indicate that he was not a threat. He was growing into Father’s height and shoulders; he knew that he was beginning to look rather threatening. Part of why he was looking at taking on a new identity soon. Timothy had been right when they talked last year, Robin…was something they all grew out of or were kicked out of. And these days, that brought a flash of guilt over how Timothy found out, he should have remained hidden that evening until Richard had explained.

“It’s alright Danny, you’re safe. Can you hear me?” he called softly, watching Danny’s hand flex against a pillow.

He twitched, half rolling to his side, legs moving. So, it wasn’t paralysis or at least not complete paralysis.

“Try and relax, your father is on his way.”

Slowly, blue eyes opened.

The burn in his thigh said he’d been given an Ecto-Dejecto shot, fun. He was on something soft…not his bed, the couch? He heard a soft voice nearby and felt a flash of fear, that wasn’t Dad.

“Try and relax, your father is on his way,” the voice said, it was familiar.

Danny slowly forced his eyes open and felt his heart begin to race, Damian…no, how had he gotten inside? Why? No…he could see…Danny turned his head, trying to hide.

“Don’t move too much Danny,” Damian chided, there was no disgust in his voice that Danny could hear. Warm hands helped him move so he was lying more on his side. “Better?”

“Mmm,” he responded. “H…h’re?”

“Shh, don’t try to speak. I found you unconscious on the floor. I gave you the injection that your father said to and he is on his way home,” Damian explained. “Today’s lunch can thankfully be reheated, I will leave both servings here, your father can have mine. Are you in any pain? Here, squeeze my hand if you are.”

To Danny’s shock, Damain took his hand. But he didn’t squeeze, he wasn’t in pain. No, he was confused and scared. He…he liked Damian coming with lunch every week but now, surely that would stop. Now that he’d seen Danny.

And then he heard the door open. “Danno?” his Dad’s voice was tight, scared.

“Over here Dr Nightingale, he’s awake now,” Damian answered.

And then Dad was there, kneeling beside the couch. “Hey kiddo,” he murmured, and Danny relaxed as his Dad stroked his hair. “Bad day, huh?” he let himself drift, Dad would keep him safe.

Jack gentle stroked his sons’ hair, seeing him begin to doze. He then looked up at Damian, finding the young man watching them. “Thank you.”

The boy seemed surprised by his words.

“Danny’s been so alone since the accident but he looks forward your weekly lunches.”

“Will he be alright?”

“This happens sometimes; he’ll be better by tomorrow. Well, as better as he gets now.” Jack smiled sadly.

“Are his scars the reason he won’t leave the apartment?”

Jack nodded. “Partially.” A good part of the reason actually.

He hated the fact that he hadn’t gotten free sooner and he had no guilt over snapping that bastards neck. What they’d been doing was not ethical, even if what they thought about ghosts had been true it would have been monstrous. You couldn’t legally treat an animal the way they’d treated Danny. The strange mix of chemicals they had used had scarred his human form though not his ghost one.

“This is Gotham, scars are very common, and while his are worse than many, there are residents who are worse,” Damian stated, watching Danny. “The Joker especially is fond of marking his victims.”

He’d noticed more people with scarring but had never really thought of that.

Damian moved away and picked up a bag, their food? “I will place this in the fridge, you can reheat it once Danny is well enough to eat. Tell him I will return next week but he can contact me if he wishes.”

“You’re a good kid, Damian,” Jack murmured, seeing the teen’s ears redden slightly in response.

“He…is my friend, I do not have many of those.” And then he was gone.

Jack sighed and moved to sit on the couch, settling Danny’s head in his lap. Would Damian’s acceptance help Danny accept himself? He wanted better than this for his son. Danny whimpered and Jack got the pain pills he’d been prescribed. Getting Danny treatment had been terrifying, driving with him in the car in such bad condition had been worse though. He’d driven right of out Illinois before taking him to a doctor, one that Angela had given him the information for. The man had once worked in Amity Park, had left before the portal was opened, and with her name mentioned had been willing to see Danny off the books. Treating him was difficult but without the portal, they couldn’t contact who Tucker had said was Danny’s ghost doctor.

He had said that Danny could have surgery to try and reduce the scarring but that it’d involve a lot of skin grafts and the recovery… Danny had refused once conscious enough. He would never trust a doctor enough to go under anaesthetic, not after what he’d been through. Not that Jack could blame him.

“Hey baby bat,” Dick greeted, spotting Damian getting ready for the night. “Everything okay?” he asked, taking in Damian’s expression.

“Danny Nightingale,” Damian murmured. “I found him unconscious in the apartment today.”

Dick grimaced; he hadn’t interacted with either but had heard about them given the aid Dr Nightingale had given his family when Scarecrow attacked. “Is he alright?”

“He was conscious when his Father returned. He did not appear overly alarmed and there was medication on hand. How…how do I convince him that I am not bothered by his appearance? He is still the same person to me.”

“Is it that different?”

“The scarring is intensive and very obvious,” Damian admitted. “I do not find it hard to see but others may, I can understand his hesitance in leaving the safety of his home. But if any city won’t pay attention, it is Gotham.”

“Don’t treat him any differently, continuing doing what you’ve been doing,” he finally said after considering it. “It might take longer for him to be willing to let you in now that you’ve seen him before he was ready. He might lash out or withdraw,” he warned, and Damian nodded.

“I will not take any words to heart.”

“I’m proud of you Dami.” He slung an arm around his shoulders, having to almost reach up a little to do so now.

He missed the kid being tiny and he knew Tim did too, poor kid was looking to be the shortest of them, the boys at least, Duke was the same height as Tim and still growing. Cass and Steph were still shorter than Tim and it was obvious the kid was relieved about that. Even his fiancé was taller than poor Timmy now. Not that he was actually overly short, there was nothing wrong with being 5’9” though Tim claimed there was a half inch in there.

“Come on, team up for patrol!” He grinned and Damian sighed but nodded. They walked to their bikes and headed out. “So, any ideas on the new idea?” he asked over comms as they rode into the city.

“Nothing feels right,” he admitted.

“You’ll work it out.”

Damian perched on the fire escape, watching as Dr Nightingale walked down the street, shopping bag in hand. The man’s size alone would likely discourage most of the muggers in Gotham but it was better to be safe than sorry. Danny had lost so much already, losing his father to a lucky attacker would be too much. So Damian kept to the shadows, following the man back to the apartment building. A birdarang discouraged the one person who seriously considered going after him, sending others who saw running. 

Once the man was safely inside, he took off to rejoin his brother who just smirked knowingly.

Bruce smiled widely, one hand on Tim’s shoulder and the other on Bernard’s. Photos were taken and then he stepped back for the couple to be photographed together. He was honestly surprised the press hadn’t caught wind of the engagement faster, perhaps people had kept quiet thanks to Tim’s history with the press, Tam, and the ‘engagement’ back when he was seventeen. It had given them plenty of time to organise the party without interreference though.

The party thankfully went well, no interruptions though Jason and Steph were on standby, just in case. He wished Jason would let him bring him back to life legally but it would have been easier when he first returned. More questions would be asked now that it would be very difficult to answer. Steph didn’t mind missing the party, she wasn’t an official Wayne but she had been connected to Tim as an ex so her presence could cause whispers.

And there’d been no comments on Bernard’s social class or gender yet which was amazing. He’d expected one of either at least by now. The Dowd’s weren’t poor but they were on the lower end of the well-off scale, barely above ‘middle class’. He’d expected more looks and comments over that, about Bernard being a gold digger and the like. Maybe because he’d been seen on and off with Tim for years despite their efforts to keep him out of the press.

Watching Tim and Bernard dance together, he couldn’t help the soft smile. He was so happy for them. He’d always worried about Tim, they were so much alike, he’d been afraid that Tim would follow in his footsteps regarding relationships. But Tim was better with people than he’d ever been, able to offer his trust in ways Bruce couldn’t. His first relationships had been a mess, too many secrets, but Bernard had worked it out from clues when Tim saved him from the cult, even if he hadn’t told Tim. No, he’d waited for Tim to feel ready to tell him, had trusted he would one day.

Now, if only the rest of his kids would follow Tim’s example, well, except Damian. Dating sure, but he was too young to think of marriage yet.

Danny stared at the message on his phone in shock – genuine Italian pizza? But…why? He’d seen, why was he bothering to come again? Pity? He didn’t want pity, he wanted to go back to before, when Damian didn’t know.

Another message appeared, asking if he liked garlic bread. He took a shaky breath and carefully answered with his own question – why? He waited, barely breathing and then the response appeared – because you are my friend.

Danny didn’t know what to do. He wanted to believe him but…he’d thought Sam was his friend. He’d thought his mother’s love would overcome her bias and hatred, like it had for Dad… and he’d ended up strapped to a dissection table.

His fingers hesitated over the phone screen and then he slowly typed his answer.

Damian knocked on the door as normal. “Pizza,” he called. He waited and then smiled as he heard the sound of Danny’s chair and the door opening. He carefully passed the small box and roll of garlic bread through the gap before sitting down with his own. He poured two glasses of soda and passed Danny’s through to him. “Richard raves about this place, says they have the best genuine Italian pizza in Gotham. We shall have to see for ourselves.”

He smiled when his phone beeped with a message – okay.

TBC…