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bundlofcigars · 2 days ago

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Hey I'm not sure if this is one of yours so feel free to ignore if it's not but justin case, I'd love to see the fallout of honeypot dick and danny after dick reveals that he was just using danny to gather evidence.

Tim remembers the day Danny Crowne came into his life. It was on one of his parents' rare trips home. They were always busy, but they loved him as much as possible. When they allowed themselves to remember about him.

He thinks he was four or five the first time someone uttered the phrase "out of sight, out of mind" around him. Tim believes it had been a nanny, one of the last ones before his parents deemed him old enough to handle things independently.

It took him some time to understand the phrase—he had to piece it together based on phrases in books since search engines online were not the best then—but when he did, Tim thought nothing fit Drake's parenting style more than that.

His dad and mom loved him, but they would get caught up in their work with every new discovery or issue at the company, and their son would fall into the afterthought category. They didn't mean to, and Tim had witnessed his father and mother's guilt when they could resurface long enough to remember that they had a son waiting for them back home.

Even inside the Manor, the Drakes were so used to being in their own rooms, with the doors sealed shut. Rarely would they all sit down and chat, believing if they existed in the same building, that was bonding.

Tim hadn't realized until Danny that he and his parents shared more of a roommate relationship than a family one.

He had tried to understand them when he was younger, as Tim definitely had the same issue. He knew what it was like to enjoy something so much that it took over every aspect of his life. He got so lost in whatever new hobby or interest he had that he forgot to accept the international calls his parents set up.

It crushed him to see the new voicemail blinking on his answering machine, but it's not like he could undo forgetting to sit near the phone since he was busy staring at bugs in the yard. (Tim was really into bugs at one point)

Tim doesn't realize how lonely he is until Danny Crowne randomly appears as the new sole hire for the crumbling Crowne company. A few years after Bruce Wayne took in Richard Grayson, he was taken in from the streets for his advanced mind after Mr. Crowne had stumbled upon him at a school fair or something.

People scoffed at Crowne's pathetic attempt to butter up to Bruce Wayne, especially since only a week after Danny was announced, his father bullied his way into a party invitation for Dick Grayson's birthday event.

He remembered it was supposed to be a birthday party, but the adults treated it like a birthday gala instead. They separated the children into another room full of games and music while they wined and dined in the main hall. It was a big event since Bruce Wayne only hosted three significant events of the season at the time, despite his party animal persona.

To get into a party hosted by Wayne was like getting the golden ticket to Wonka's factory. This also meant that if you were invited, you had to attend as it would ruin your chances of networking and it would also plump your reputation.

Tim's parents knew this very well as they had returned just to go to the event in honor of Dick Grayson, the boy who went from rags to riches. People whispered that he was shaping up to be Bruce's heir, as Bruce had taken him in when he was nine and no wife or other children to speak of.

Dick Grayson, at fourteen, was the gateway to Wayne's wealth and connections. Every teenage girl was told to make him fall in love with him and every boy to befriend him. Tim was no different.

His parents spoke non-stop about Tim needing to endear himself to Dick Grayson, but how could tiny little eight-year-old Tim do so? That was Robin!

He couldn't look at the older boy without becoming flustered, not that his folks knew about Robin.

His parents were in a foul mood because one of their digs was post-pond due to permit issues, and they were forced to attend the gala. They had been so upset that they had not noticed Tim was still strapped in the backseat when they handed the keys to the valet to park the car.

Thankfully, the employee quickly noticed the sleeping child and woke him for the party as he was parking. Tim had been insanely obsessed with NASA back then and had anciently stayed up all night reading about the space program- he hadn't even realized the time until he saw the sunrise behind his curtains.

The valet had walked him to the front door, worried about Tim being separated from his parents, but the young boy had convinced him to let him go to the children's room alone. He was very independent and could handle finding the party for his age group well enough alone.

He just wasn't expecting to take the wrong turn and end up in the main hallway, where the adults were performing their gala. It was slightly intimidating, as Tim had never been in the adult room.

All the elites like to separate the children right at the entrance of their parties- out of sight, out of mind- and he felt so tiny standing in the doorway of the gala.

He had been eight, wearing one of his best suits while clutching a NASA key chain for courage and trying to find his way around the fancy gowns and expensive shoes. That's how Danny had seen him.

The other boy had zeroed in on his keychain, gliding gracefully across the room to Tim's position that belied his roots. It was the first thing Tim noticed about Danny Crowne.

Everything he did was regal.

Despite being the youngest person in the gala attendees' room, he seemed far more respected, like a prince among his subjects. He was also beautiful, with features of nobility that many elites would kill for.

Tim remembered gaping up at him as the gorgeous teenager grinned. "You like space too?"

That was the first time someone older than him had asked about his interests, pulled him to the side, and let Tim ramble on about all the information that cluttered his head. Danny knew more about NASA and space than Tim had been able to find on his own.

The older boy eventually led him back to the children's room and vanished for the rest of the night. Tim's parents told him the following morning that Danny was found taking apart Bruce Wayne's home security, wanting to see the world's most advanced technology up close.

They laughed, dismissing the child, and Tim sat silently as his parents mocked the poor street urchin who thought he could understand what he was ripping apart.

People thought him odd because Danny had started doing that at every event. He was always in a corner, staring intently at some random machinery with a slight craze look in his eye.

His looks, mannerisms, and terminology were at odds with his upbringing, though, as they went against everything people said about him. Tim was enthralled by Danny Crowne's mystery, even when the rest of the elites dismissed him—until Danny started making decisions at his adoptive parents' company.

It made sense why the Crownes had adopted him. Danny's mind, talent, and looks were far beyond average. In only a year, his decision-making took the failing company out of the red, and with him spearheading the research and development department, the company broke ground in the technological world like a raging hurricane.

In one year, he regains all the wealth and honor of the crumbling Corwne family name. He was the ideal heir.

Everyone who used to mock him was now scrambling to befriend the rising star, but Danny Crowne kept to himself. He had gotten what he wanted from the various events he attended and was now focused on making his company powerful.

Of course, his adoptive father was still in charge, but everyone knew that Danny had really turned the company around.

His parents were among those who wanted Danny's influence, but they had no way of appealing to him. That is, until Danny's limo passed Tim, who was walking down the street late at night with his expensive camera, and the prodigy had the driver pull over.

Danny had been horrified to find out the little boy who loved NASA just as much as he was left unattended. His parents had scrambled to make up a story about their old nanny having a heart attack, and the company she came from did not send a replacement.

They were unaware that Tim had been left alone, or so they claimed. Tim thought Danny didn't buy it in the least, but the teenager had been happy to babysit him anyway.

Tim figured Danny would be like every other babysitter: He would show him attention for a few hours and then eventually ignore him. Tim just had to wait for him out.

Danny didn't even have his adoptive parents' attention, either. They lived in a different penthouse and called him once a week. Their conversations were stiff, like neither party knew how to converse with each other. If Tim didn't know any better, they didn't even remember they had adopted Danny.

Half the time, Mr. and Mrs. Crowne seemed unaware of their decision-making. Tim wondered if they were taking some substance because no one rapidly went from displeased to agreeable.

The odd thing about Danny, though, was how much he cared about the silliest things. Only a month after Danny became his babysitter, Tim's English class had a mandatory poem-reading event, during which each student wrote a dumb poem about education.

The parents and guardians were all invited to some cookies and refreshments afterward. Tim thought it was stupid for the assignment because it was in the middle of the day. If guests wanted to make it, they would need to ask their bosses for time off from one to three p.m., which smacks of the workday.

He figured he wouldn't be the only kid without someone there because of this, which made him feel a little better about not mentioning it to his parents. They weren't even in the country.

Tim was one of the first kids to read his poems because the class went by alphabetical order of last name; he was supposed to go third. He was sitting on stage in boredom when he heard the bang of the gymnasium doors swinging open.

Danny was standing in his Gotham Academy uniform, huffing and puffing. He locked eyes with the shocked eight-year-old Tim and gave him the warmest smile to every grace on his face. He quickly dodged one of the teachers, who must have realized Danny had walked out of his classes, scurrying to an open chair and waving at Tim the entire time.

Tim's poem was half-assed at best, as he wrote it ten minutes before the event, but Danny had still cheered like it was the second coming of Shakespeare.

After school, Danny took him for ice cream and chatted about how proud he was of him as if he had not received detention for skipping class to go to Tim's little event.

Since then, Tim's goal has been to protect his regal but gentle-hearted big brother. He's always been insanely intelligent for his age, and now that intelligence had a target, something guiding it rather than his mind wandering to whatever new thought appeared.

In his quest to protect Danny, Tim figures out Batman and Robin's identities and finds the location of the Court of Owls headquarters. He maps out the heavy hitters in Gotham's gangs, mafia, most of the Rouge's secret lairs, and their supplies.

Tim quickly discovers Danny's operation to relocate the poor and orphaned children into safer homes. What he was doing was well intended, but there were many risks to trusting the men and women taking child protective laws into their own hands.

All these threats were too big for Tim to handle alone—what if the Talons were told to take Danny out? What if the gangs and mafias thought they could threaten Danny? What if a rouge took him hostage?

Tim realized he needed a plan. He never told Danny any of what he knew. Not the Bats, not the court of owls, not the rouges, and not the tiny group of meta children that Danny had unknowingly saved from the streets and trafficking.

Another thing Danny needed to learn about Tim was that he was really good at hacking into other people's bank accounts. Lex Luther, Oliver Green, Bruce Wayne, and Jack Drake woke one day to find someone had run off with millions.

Those funds were used to hire Tim's two instructors.

"I will not be kind," Lady Shiva told him at the ripe age of nine. She studied him like a bug trapped under glass, and Tim knew he was one to her.

"Neither will I." Henri Ducard sighed, taking a drag from his cigarette. "But I will make sure you are ready."

Tim's training was harsh, but it made him strong enough that the night the court sent their Talons, Tim could dispatch them and capture one to reverse engineer its creation. He reminded the Court that they may be elites, but they were nowhere near the level of gods.

Lady Shiva was so impressed by him that she introduced him to Deadshot, a man who had a soft spot for children after what had happened to his son. Between the two, his combat training made him a very threat, and Henri marveled at his mind.

"I don't think I ever encountered a mind so advanced since...one of my last students. You'll give him a run for his money, boy."

Tim appreciated his mentor's words about his skills but saw no reason to join their world. He didn't want to be the best fighter in the world, nor did he need money. All he wanted was to be Danny's sword and shield in their corner of the world.

He realized that he needed more hands and eyes to do so successfully. To this day, he does not know what Danny was working on—out of respect, he never investigated his brother past his child relocation program—but he knew that he would support him no matter what.

Danny saved Tim from the sea of darkness he was unaware he was drowning in. The least Tim could do was ensure that Danny's efforts came to fruition.

Turns out he wasn't the only one.

"What can I do to help Danny?" Max demands of Tim when the heir of the Drakes ten. On Max's face are bruises that have only now started to heal. He was taken in by the Parkers the night before after Danny had nearly broken down the door to his old home.

Max had been discovered to have meta powers, ones that let him turn invisible, and his birth parents decided they could beat it out of him. Tim read the file that Danny had stored away in his notebooks.

"Can you fight?" Tim asked, as his new foster parents had discovered the twelve-year-old and relocated him.

"No, but I can learn"

"So can we." A girl, fifteen years old, announced from the group of children that had come to see Danny Crowne in the flesh. Security stopped them before they could see him, but Tim was close enough to give them a hand.

Her name was Heather. She lost her whole family in a fire, where a burn scar edged itself on the lower half of her face and neck. Once, she was a beautiful girl, but the wounds ruined her- or so she was told by people who felt she was dangerous because of them. Too much like Two-Face, they said.

She had been thrown into juvie because there had been no space elsewhere in Gotham's fostering jurisdiction.

It was meant to be temporary. She had gone in at age ten and was now fifteen, only released through Danny Crowne's paid-off guards who had helped her sneak out through the laundry.

Tim studied her, the children grouping behind her, and figured that one didn't become a master without having some students to teach. They became the Ghosts in honor of Danny. Tim had noticed that Danny was really interested in the paranormal, just as much as he was about technological advances, and one of the kids designed their symbol.

A green ghost, flying around a white stylized D so that other Gothamn children would know they were not forgotten even when the Bats and the government turned their backs on them.

"Leader?" Max calls from his computer station. They are deep underground, having taken over the old Court of Owls lair. The day Tim was able to create a weapon that turns the talons back into dead corpses, they had rounded up all the rich court members and erased their memories.

Danny was unaware that Tim stole one of his inventions meant to help the human mind see where he was going between this world and the next thing, and he changed it into a mind wiper.

The Ghost remained neutral in most conflicts, only taking action when someone made a move against Danny, Crowe Corp., or the children of Gotham.

"What is it?"

"Danny wasn't taken." Max's voice is rough with grief. He gestures to the big screen that towers over the city, young adults and children of various ages. Realizing Max was to cast his screen, Tim inclines his head to grant approval.

The screen blinks open to show Officer Black beating Danny on his way to his cell. It looks to be a camera in the hall of the holding cells. Tim's hands curl into fists to see his brother being attacked like that. Someone bites out a swear aimed at Officer Black.

The camera fizzes momentarily before Officer Black flickers to walk away from an empty cell. There are three other unknown men with him, and they are pushing a trash bin. "Someone edited this."

"Yes. I just finished getting it back to its original image." Max types something on his computer, and the video starts over. This time before their eyes, with the image nearly as clear, showcases Danny getting a heavy hit to his head, slamming against the wall with a tump.

He slides to the floor as Black turns away and does not move until a glowing figure rises from where Danny's body is lying. The figure looks alarming to Danny but has white hair and green eyes.

It stares down at its hands before it looks at Danny's body in confusion. It rises off the ground, leaving Danny crumbled on the ground of the cell and fades from view.

Officer Black finally looks back, having missed the whole thing before, kneeling and checking Danny's pulse. He doesn't need the officer to shake his head or attempt CPR to know the truth.

Ice runs through his veins as Tim stumbles back into his chair. His choked voice echoes through the room like a bomb setting off.

"Danny's dead."

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