#Danny’s going to have some trauma to work through

[kittyfrisk9]

The soup - Idea DpxDc

Note: I don't know English, please use Google Translate. Sorry for the bad translation.

Dead On Main - Danny having an eating disorder, and Jason being a cute boyfriend.

---

He's breathing deeply, trying to forget the fever that torments his body. Heat and discomfort do their thing, and Danny writhes on the couch that serves as his replacement for a bed. He has no energy to go to his room, nor does he want to move. His head pounds, each pain makes him dizzy, and the burning sensation on his skin doesn't stop. The fever consumes him, and with it, the helplessness of not being able to use his powers to relieve himself.

He grips the blanket tightly, that piece of cheap fabric he bought at a third-rate store, so thin that it barely keeps him warm. He curls up in it, but the warmth of the fabric doesn't manage to take away the pain that runs through his body, nor the emptiness that hurts in his stomach. Each shiver makes him feel weaker, more disconnected from himself. His gaze slides toward the kitchen, toward the plastic bag of instant food he bought a few hours ago.

“Maybe I should eat…” he thinks, but the thought disappears as quickly as it came. Just looking at that food disgusts him. At some point in his teenage years, food started to taste bad, like every bite turned into a tasteless mass that he couldn’t swallow. He suspects it’s some psychological shit, some trauma that his parents are responsible for, but he doesn’t want to think about it now. He doesn’t have the strength to face it.

With a sigh, he turns around, determined to at least get rid of that annoying headache. He reaches for the small table next to the couch, where he left the bottle of painkillers, but stops when he notices something strange. Why is he so light? He frowns, sure he bought it yesterday. He shakes his head, exhausted. It doesn’t matter, he just needs something to relieve himself.

Without thinking much, he takes a couple of pills and drinks from the bottle of water he left nearby. He barely feels the pills go down his throat, a disgusting taste filling his mouth, as bitter as the food he can no longer stomach. He grimaces in disgust, but then… something is wrong.

A stabbing pain shoots through his stomach, like an invisible blade is ripping him apart from the inside. He instinctively doubles over, his hands gripping his abdomen tightly as he feels the tremors. His stomach makes low but intense sounds. Panic mixes with discomfort, and when he feels the liquid rise up his throat, he knows it’s too late.

He leans forward, covering his mouth with one hand as the contents of his stomach rush out. It’s not much, just bile and water, but the burning in his throat and the smell make him shudder. The vomit hits the floor, a mess that only adds more weight to his exhaustion.

Danny stands there, panting, cold sweat sticking to his forehead. The nausea persists, but something else worries him. His eyes focus on the empty bottle that had at some point fallen to the floor.

"How many pills did I take?"

The realization hits him like a brick, followed by a deep sigh filled with frustration. Shit. He's going to have to clean this up. It's not like he has the energy, but there's no one else to do it.

Oh, he's crying, he wants Jason by his side

...

Something is wrong. Very wrong. Extremely wrong.

Jason couldn't ignore it, that nagging uneasiness that made his stomach turn. He'd had a rough few weeks, he knew. More work than usual, more chaos in his territory. The appearance of a new drug—powerful, dangerous, and all too easy to get—had forced him to be everywhere at once. His body was exhausted, and his mind, even more so.

But that wasn't what was keeping him on his toes. No, what really had him worried was Danny.

His boyfriend. That word always brought a small smile to his face, even now, when everything inside him told him something was wrong. He shook his head, trying to focus on something else, but worry was a tight knot in his chest.

He looks up at the sky as he walks across the rooftops. The night in Gotham is especially ugly: thick clouds cover the moon, and the lack of stars makes everything seem even more oppressive. A bad sign.

Yesterday, Danny had been mugged. He could still hear the casual tone Danny told him in, like it hadn't been a big deal. But to Jason, it was something. He'd dealt with the guy, sure, but now he wished he'd hit him harder. He should have been there sooner, should have protected him. And now, Danny hadn't gotten in touch all day. Not one call, not one text. That wasn't normal.

Jason clenches his fists, frustration and fear mixing like an explosive cocktail. He didn't have time for this, but he couldn't ignore it either. Something inside him told him he had to move, that he couldn't just stand there waiting for answers.

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but instead he makes a decision. With a quick movement, he throws out his grappling hook and begins to jump from one roof to another, faster than usual.

"Patrol can wait." His voice, barely a whisper, is laden with determination. First, he had to make sure Danny was okay. Everything else could wait.

Before long, Jason was outside Danny's apartment. The building was quiet, and the apartment windows were dark, not a single light on. Danny might be sleeping, but Jason didn't trust it. He needed to see him, to make sure with his own eyes that everything was okay.

Without hesitation, he slipped through the window, moving with the ease and stealth that came with years of practice. But what he saw upon entering left him cold.

Danny was on the floor, kneeling, wiping something down with a rag. His body was shaking slightly, and Jason immediately noticed how pale he was. Too pale. The fever was evident on his face, in the sweat that glistened in the dim light coming in from outside. But what caught his attention the most was the smell.

Jason looked away, and what he found made his hands clench into fists automatically. There was vomit on the floor. The acrid smell hit him hard, but it was the sight of Danny, weak and barely able to stand as he tried to clean up, that really ignited his fury.

Why the hell didn’t you call me? he wanted to scream at him, but the words were caught in his throat, choked by a mix of worry and rage. The reminder that he was Red Hodd right now and not Jason Todd hit him hard.

Danny stopped suddenly, noticing the presence of someone else in the room. He slowly turned his head, and his bright eyes—probably from the fever—fixated on Jason. There was confusion on his face.

“Hood?” he murmured, his voice hoarse and weak.

“Hey,” Hood greeted as he approached him, his voice deep and distorted by the helmet.

Danny let out a small laugh, though it was weak, and turned his head toward him, noticing his presence at last. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his mind still clouded by fever and disorientation.

“I was just passing by and came to take a look,” Jason replied with a smile hidden beneath his mask. He crouched down beside him, effortlessly taking the rag from Danny’s hand. “Why are you doing this?”

Danny, with no strength to fight, simply shrugged, the dizziness almost impossible to ignore. “The smell is disgusting.”

Jason didn’t answer right away, but he watched as Danny offered no resistance, his condition evidently more serious than he was trying to let on.

“Thanks for yesterday, by the way… you saved me, haha,” Danny said, forcing a tired smile. Danny’s laughter, even though he could barely stand upright, gave Jason’s stomach an uncomfortable twist. Danny’s eyes, disoriented and slightly glassy, ​​didn’t help matters.

Jason frowned as he noticed a purplish bruise beneath his eye. The mark was horrible, much worse than Danny was trying to let on. Anger grew in his chest, even more so as he saw how his boyfriend looked so… fragile. Why the hell didn’t I protect him better? He thought, gritting his teeth. Anger burned within him. To hell with hitting the guy harder, he should have killed him.

“Go get some rest,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.

Danny laughed softly, but it was more of a tired exhale than anything else. “I have to clean up.”

“I’ll do it,” Jason replied firmly. Danny’s response was a low snort, a trace of humor that seemed to fade quickly.

“Will you?” Danny laughed again, though harder this time, exhaustion still fighting to dampen his mood. “If your rogues knew I had you cleaning up my vomit, you��d be the laughing stock of Gotham.”

Jason gave him a steady look, not losing his composure. “It’s a reasonable price to pay for your rest.”

“I’m flattered,” Danny replied with a tired smile, and walked over to the couch, slumping down onto the cushion as if his body was about to collapse. He closed his eyes, trying to rest, but the pain coursing through him wouldn’t let him find relief. Every muscle in his body seemed to protest, and every time he moved, the pain intensified.

He groaned silently, gritting his teeth.

Jason watched him from the corner of his eye, still crouched in front of him. The concern did not disappear from his face, and his gaze remained fixed on Danny. It was obvious that something was not right.

“Why are you like this?” he asked again, this time with a more serious tone.

Danny did not open his eyes immediately, but his lips formed a slight grimace. “What?” he said, barely able to comprehend the question.

“Don’t you have anyone to take care of you?” Jason continued, the question laden with a hint of frustration. “If you’re that bad, you should have called someone.” Me, for example.

He thought about the last part silently.

Danny blinked twice and, after a while, opened his eyes to look at him. The doubt was palpable in his expression, and Jason couldn’t help but notice how much that simple look hurt him.

“I don’t have anyone…” Danny muttered, and for a moment, the sadness in his voice was all too evident. Then, as if trying to make the matter less serious, he corrected himself, “Well, I have my boyfriend, but he’s really busy with his job lately. I don’t want to bother him.”

Guilt hit Jason. “If you think that, he seems like a bad boyfriend,” he said, ducking his head, Danny’s words really getting to him.

Danny, barely lifting his leg, gave it a light smack. “Don’t say that about my boyfriend,” he said, somewhat annoyed, but with a weak smile on his face. “He works really hard at… whatever it is he works at.” He muttered, as if trying to defend him, but then added, more to himself than to Jason: “Old guys, his boss must be exploiting him.”

Jason couldn’t help but smile guiltily. Even in this state, Danny was still defending him, no matter how bad he felt. It was a sweet gesture, but it also made his chest tight to know that Danny was going through this alone.

Without thinking, he stood up suddenly, and with a quick, fluid movement, he lifted Danny into his arms princess-style. Danny, obviously surprised, let out a small cry of surprise.

“Hey!” Danny whined, as if he was about to protest, but Red Hood already had him well in hand.

“I’m going to take you to your room. You need to rest,” Hood said, not hesitating for a second. When Danny tried to protest, a strange sound, a rumbling from his stomach, interrupted them. Jason heard it clearly, and his face softened in understanding. “I’ll make you something light first. And you better eat it.”

Danny looked at him, a little confused but resigned. “You’re not giving me a choice, are you?”

“Nope,” Red Hood replied firmly, his tone almost amused now, as if it were a matter of fact.

...

Having a crime lord as a personal servant was not something Danny had expected for that night, but if he was to be honest with himself, he had to admit that it made him feel better. In an awkward and embarrassing way, Red Hood helped him change his clothes, brought him his phone, and even gave him water. Danny was sure that if he hadn't stopped him, Hood would have insisted on giving him a bath and even changing the sheets on his bed.

All this time, Danny tried to find the right moment to tell him something important: he couldn't stand eating other people's food. However, he didn't find the opportunity, and now he found himself in an even more awkward situation.

Red Hood, of course, was in his kitchen, making soup. Danny watched from the doorway, frowning.

Ah, what a waste, he thought, watching Hood move confidently around the kitchen. No matter how much he wanted to avoid it, his usual little eating problem was still a pain in the neck.

And then he remembered the anti-hero's words: “You should have called someone.” Danny let out a small laugh, true enough. In retrospect, even if Jason was busy, he would have come running if Danny had asked him for help.

Because Jason loves him. Maybe it's because his ghost half makes him more sensitive, but Danny can really feel it. Not just in his words, but in every action, every gesture. He knows that Jason loves him in a way that is deep and sincere, and that's why he can only eat what he prepares for him. Because he trusts him, more than anyone, and he knows that Jason would never hurt him. Unlike his parents.

Lying on his bed, Danny let out a low laugh and reached for his phone. What a fool I am, he thought as he began to type.

Danny: Are you busy? Please come. I'm kind of sick here and I really will turn into a ghost.

Just as he pressed "send," he saw Red Hood walk in, holding a tray with what looked like a bowl of soup and a hot lemonade. Danny frowned, curious. Where had he found the ingredients to make all that?

A smile appeared on his face as he looked at the tray. He figured it was too late to say anything now. He might as well eat some, pretend to like it, and thank him.

"I didn't expect the great crime lord, Red Hood, to know how to cook," Danny commented, smiling as he sat on the bed, looking at the tray curiously.

"I have some hidden talents," Hood replied, placing the tray carefully on Danny's legs.

Danny couldn't help but laugh. "Like sneaking into other people's apartments and spying?"

"Aside from that," Red Hood said without losing his composure, as if the insinuation didn't affect him in the slightest. "I've been your Prince Charming twice, you should be grateful." He shook his head slightly, motioning for Danny to eat.

Danny looked at the plate, mentally prepared to pretend to like it. "Eh, I'm grateful, your majesty, but sadly this young lady already has a prince." He played along as he brought the spoon of soup to his mouth.

Red Hood laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "I understand, I guess this gentleman's heart has been broken," he said in a dramatic tone, feigning sadness. He expected Danny to continue playing along, but Danny stood completely still. "Danny?" He asked, now visibly worried.

Danny was in shock. This taste… He took another spoonful of soup, then another, and another. Without thinking, he grabbed the plate and drank it all, then did the same with the lemonade. This taste, this delicious taste. It couldn't be anyone else but…

"Dan—" But he was interrupted.

"Jason, when were you going to tell me you were Red Hood?" Danny looked straight at him, not angry, but shocked.

His eating problem, that little big problem he'd had since his teens, instantly recognized that this taste could only belong to Jason.

Jason, on the other hand, wondered how his boyfriend recognized him.

---

Note: I don't know English, please use Google Translate. Sorry for the bad translation.

They are two men in love, your honor.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#128 Part 4

Danny could tell Jason was getting upset over the things he was telling him. He wanted to open up and tell him more about the past but it was painful. Eventually Danny might tell him the full story about how he died but for now focusing on what they needed to do from now would take priority. 

Jason took a moment to calm himself down before speaking and Danny was a little afraid of breaking the silence, “alright, here’s what we’re going to do.” Danny stayed silent waiting for Jason to continue, “I don’t like that belt, we’re getting rid of it, and then, I’m taking you somewhere safe.” 

Danny felt a little confused; it felt like Jason really cared about him even if they just met. The belt only shocked ghosts so he figured his soulmate would have little problems taking the belt off of him so he nodded his head. He was tired and even if he didn’t 100% trust Jason yet, if they were truly soulmates, Jason wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. 

Jason reached out and gently touched the belt. It gave him a little shock and he tossed it away as soon as it was off Danny, who felt his strength finally returning. He took a few deep calming breaths, it's been quite a while since he was able to just exist without something terrible happening. He had forgotten what it felt like to have full access to his powers and ectoplasm again that the feeling felt amazing no matter what pain he was in. He could finally tap into his powers such as accelerated healing, which was already working on the damage on his chest. He was trapped within that facility for only a few months but the damage was already done. Being forced under the knife for days at a time where they treated him more like a dead body than a person had really done a number on his psyche. 

“Damn, I hated that fucking belt… Thank you” Danny finally said, Jason was silent the whole time just watching his hand where the belt had slightly shocked him. 

Jason took a few moments to process everything that happened and then sighed, “Why’d it shock me? You said it was set to shock you right?”

Danny glanced away and took a moment to think of what exactly to say next, “I’m not 100% sure actually. The belt shouldn’t shock a normal person.”

“The fuck are you then?” Jason’s sudden harsh words shocked Danny and he knew he let something slip, “... I accidentally touched it when I was you. That wasn’t a light shock like I just got.” Jason was still looking at his hands but when he looked up to see how terrified Danny was his face softened a little.

Jason took a shaky breath before speaking again, “You’ve been through enough, I… know I can be… intense, I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.” When Danny stayed silent he continued, “You mentioned ghosts earlier.” Jason paused again waiting for Danny to respond. 

Danny wanted too but he felt himself a little too scared to respond. Jason’s raised tone reminded him too much of how the GIW agents would berate him over everything. 

Jason sighed deeply and leaned back on the sofa, “alright, I won’t pry, but I think I know why it shocked me… I’m just trying to figure out why it shocks you so badly.” 

Danny could tell Jason was just worried about him so even though he didn’t want too he spoke up a little, “I know the reason it shocks me…” Danny said slowly and softly, “and I want to tell you, but I’m honestly a little scared. I haven’t had to tell someone this before and it honestly isn’t a pretty story.” Danny’s words were genuine, he really didn’t know how to even begin to explain to someone. It felt like something he shouldn’t say, not that he didn’t want too but if felt wrong down to his core. 

Jason nodded his head, “I get it, I’ll be honest, my backstory ain’t too pretty itself.” 

Honestly Danny didn’t know how he felt about that, knowing he wasn’t alone in hardships was both alarming and comforting. 

Jason nodded again, “Alright, I get it’s a touchy subject, you can talk about it when you’re ready.” 

———

Jason was a little peeved but he got it, he doubted if he could keep his cool when talking about his own death and revival. He was wondering if maybe being thrown into the pits might have something to do with how he got shocked by that damn belt. Danny didn’t seem to want to talk about that and Jason wanted to know but he also didn’t want to pressure him into talking about something he didn’t want to. He was a little pissed at himself for how he scared his soulmate.

Jason was also pissed this was how they met, he wanted to be the one to pull that trigger and even though he thought it was kind of hot that his soulmate finished the job, he was also jealous he didn’t get to pull the trigger himself. Danny said he had a fear of clowns and he was determined to keep him safe.

Jason was a little bit of a romantic and he wished he had a proper meeting like most soulmates got but instead he got whatever the fuck bullshit life Danny had. 

Jason took a deep breath after realizing his thoughts were spiraling out of control. He still had to figure out what exactly was after his soulmate, romance could come after he knew how to keep him safe.

Master Post:

Previous:

[flwrkid14]

Why Tim Drake Sees the Bats as Co-Workers and Not Family (Tim Drake is a Fenton)

aka a follow up to this post, on why tim calls the bats coworkers because I think it's the funniest thing ever

It’s not that Tim hates the batfam. If anything, he has a grudging respect for them. They’ve saved his life (and Gotham’s) more times than he can count. But to Tim, that doesn’t make them family.

Here’s the thing: Tim already has a family.

Growing up as a Fenton, Tim knew what family meant. Jazz was the protective big sister who made sure he ate, slept, and survived middle school. Danny was the chaotic younger brother who still cared enough to make sure Tim didn’t feel overshadowed. Even his parents, as wildly eccentric as they were, loved him with the kind of unapologetic enthusiasm only Jack and Maddie Fenton could pull off.

Sure, they weren’t perfect. They panicked after Danny’s death-and-rebirth-as-a-ghostly-superhero and left Tim with Aunt Janet Drake, thinking they were protecting him. But they called. They checked in. And once they realized how bad things were with the Drakes, they worked to make amends.

Tim never stopped being a Fenton, no matter how far Gotham took him from Amity Park.

So when Bruce Wayne swept in with promises of training, teamwork, and trust, Tim didn’t see a new family. He saw an opportunity.

————

The Batfamily Dynamics:

The Batfamily operates on trauma and duty. Everyone has scars, and everyone has a mission. That’s how Bruce connects with people—through the shared pain of loss and the relentless drive to make Gotham better.

But Tim’s mission was never born out of personal tragedy. He didn’t lose his parents to crime or see Gotham as something he had to save. He joined because someone had to. Batman was falling apart after Jason died, and Gotham was suffering for it. Tim stepped up because it was the right thing to do—not because he wanted to fill some emotional void.

And that’s where the disconnect lies.

For Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, and even Cass, Barbara and Steph, being part of the bats means finding family again. It’s their way of healing. But for Tim, it feels like replacing the family he already has.

————

Tim’s Perspective:

To Tim, the batfamily is a job. A very dangerous, very complicated job, but a job nonetheless.

Bruce isn’t his father. Dick isn’t his brother. Jason isn’t his big-brother-who-died-and-came-back (that spot was already taken by Danny). They’re teammates, coworkers, and maybe even friends. But family? No.

Because family is Jazz sneaking him snacks during his stakeouts. Family is Danny sending sarcastic texts about “ghost-proofing” the Batcave. Family is Jack and Maddie trying (and failing) to make sense of his vigilante life while showing up with enough ectoplasm-based cookies to fuel an army.

Family is messy, chaotic, and full of love.

And while the batfamily might be chaotic, the love feels conditional—wrapped up in the mission, the masks, and the unspoken rule that Gotham always comes first.

————

Why Tim Doesn’t Want a Second Family:

And then there’s the second layer—the one Tim doesn’t say out loud.

To Tim, having a second family feels like betraying the one he already has. Like admitting that Jazz, Danny, and the parents who tried so hard to fix their mistakes weren’t enough. And they are enough.

Tim doesn’t need another family. He doesn’t want another family. The Fentons are imperfect, but they’re his. If he started thinking of the batfamily as his own, it would feel like he was erasing the people who already mean everything to him.

It would also make losing them hurt more.

The batfamily’s world is dangerous. Gotham is dangerous. And if Tim ever let himself think of them as his family—as more than coworkers or teammates—it would make every death, every injury, and every failure cut that much deeper.

Tim’s already had to grieve once, when Danny died. He barely survived it. He doesn’t think he could go through that again, especially not in a world where loss is inevitable. Keeping the bats at arm’s length is self-preservation as much as loyalty to the Fentons.

————

Does It Hurt the Bats?

Absolutely.

Dick wants so badly to be Tim’s big brother. Jason finds it hilarious, but even he bristles at being labeled a coworker. Damian sees it as a betrayal of loyalty. And Bruce—well, Bruce doesn’t say much, but the tight line of his mouth speaks volumes. Tim doesn't even want to think about how Cass probably already knew, and how much it had still hurt her nonetheless.

But Tim doesn’t change his stance. Because at the end of the day, the bats aren't his family. They’re his team, his coworkers, and maybe even his friends.

And that’s enough.

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp #45

Danny becoming Jason's mom!

Because picture it! Jason, though been out of the Lazarus Pits for so long, fought against his entire being-his core! And because all of the fighting and resisting his new self caused it to repress into a smaller state. Thus, he had the core of a child, despite being an adult. It also doesn't help that he died as a child and clung unto his trauma.

But Jason didn't know this and continued with his former crime lord/vigilante lifestyle. Thinking that the rage pits was the only thing he had to be wary of and not what happens if he meets someone else that was from the Lazarus Pits or something similar.

He experienced this phenomenon when he took a walk through the park in his civilian attire as a change of pace and to clear his mind for the moment. The last mission he had with Bruce

As he walked, the sound of children laughter caused him to look up and see what was going on. In the park, two kids-siblings no doubt, were having a ball in the park simply chasing each other in their own version of tag. It was domestic enough to smile softly at the sight, a quiet chuckle escaping him.

Jason looked around to see if their parents were around watching them. And right on a bench was no doubtedly their parent. With black hair that seem to gleam in the direct light and blue eyes that seemed to be an impossible shade of blue. And those eyes were fondly watching the children laying around the park on their own.

Suddenly, Jason found himself under the heavy gaze of those eyes. Fondness turning to curiosity and hostility to longer he stared.

Snapping out his thoughts, he believed it was best to make a bit of small talk after no doubt seeming like a creep staring at them so intently.

Casually, or trying to seem casual, Jason approached them keeping his shoulders lax as not to seem as not too much of a threat. But the closer he got, the more this unfamiliar feeling bubbled within his chest. It wasn't the blinding rage that he usually associated with the pit. No, it was something different. Something positive.

It felt like a bubbling warmth that had the pits screaming for more. That the warmth was there. This person would take care of them. This person could help with the pits. This person was his-

"Momma." Jason murmured as he stared at the male, eyes widening with mortification as he realized that he said that out loud for the person to hear. He also realized that the pits had him in such a daze that he didn't realize that he had walked right over and sat next to the mystery person without a second thought.

Jason waited for them to react. To be called a creep or for them to storm away after gathering their children from where they were playing. Hell, he even expected them to scream and hit him in some manner.

Instead, he was met with eyes of confusion as well. The person beside him tilting their head as if debating something.

Then, Jason would've thought he imagined it if he wasn't looking at them, his eyes flashed green. The familiar pit green that Jason hated seeing. But his green held no anger or hatred that he was familiar with.

After their eyes returned to their icy blue, the person gave Jason an understanding smile. As if they knew why he called them that.

"Well, you're a bit older than my kids, but I'm sure we could work this out." The person said with a chuckle, reaching up and affectionately patting his shoulder. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Jason felt as if his mouth dry as thought of how to answer. Was this weird? How could they be so calm about him walking up and calling them momma? Was this something pit related? How did this person know about the pits?

"Jason, mo-" He bit his lip as the name momma almost slipped out again. Instead, he coughed into his hand before looking at them again. "It's Jason."

The person chuckled affectionately at his hesitance. "Jason." The repeated with a fond smile. The way they said his name causing a familiar warmth to flutter in his chest that he hasn't felt in a while.

"I bet momma is a bit sudden since we just met and all." The person teased, smiling up at him. "But instead you're free to call me Danny if you want."

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation

Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.

It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.

Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.

The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.

Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”

He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.

“Robin?”

“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”

“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”

“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”

“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”

“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.

“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”

“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.

“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”

Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.

“…Danny?”

Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”

“Yes.”

Just one word. A simple answer.

“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.

“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”

“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”

“Even if…”

“Even if anything.”

Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.

“Can I show you?”

“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.

“It might be bright, close your eyes.”

The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.

“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.

It was good he did.

He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.

-

“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.

Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.

“Badly.”

Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.

The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.

Cass was as worried as the rest of them.

“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.

“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”

“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.

“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.

Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.

He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.

“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”

Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”

Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”

Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.

Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.

“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”

Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”

“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”

“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.

It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”

Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”

“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.

“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”

Jason flinched.

Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”

Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.

Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.

Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.

Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.

Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.

Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.

Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.

They’d be okay.

It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.

Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.

They’d be okay.

-

Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.

He tried not to make a noise.

He tried to stay quiet.

They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—

There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.

Oh, he was crying.

“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”

That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.

He wasn’t there.

He could make noises.

He was safe.

“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”

Danny nodded as much as he could manage.

“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Danny shook his head.

“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it’s really bad.”

Danny squeezed it three times.

“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”

One squeeze.

“Okay, let me go—”

Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.

“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”

Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.

“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”

“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”

“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.

Danny squeezed his hand again.

“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”

Danny trusted that.

It was surprising.

He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.

The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.

---

AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....

...Stay delightful, darlings?

[starwrighter]

The first out of three prompts I'm throwing out this month

Featuring my favorite trope of de aging the ghost boy for trauma and angst purposes :D

Okay! So Danny gets captured by the G.I.W or the Fenton's he's experimented on until his body can no longer take it and he retreats back into his core. Since he is still in the G.I.W's/ the Fenton's lab this doesn't exactly help him escape. With Sadistic Joy the G.I.W/ Fenton's start experimenting with Danny's core. They don't manage to break his core fortunately (whether it be because halfa cores are hard to break or the sheer powerhouse that is Danny you decide!)

Danny reforms before they could figure out how to use his core as a weapon and this causes some side effects. Both halves of him were balanced with each other, instincts clicked into place. New organs and features of his body worked perfectly with his newly enhanced human ones. Only problem with this was that he was now a baby. A literal baby like a little under a year old! And worse news he was still in the lab, his memorys blurry and his thinking process babyfied. He didn't know much about the people keeping him captive right now but he knew they hurt him and he wanted out.

The G.I.W/ Fenton's are furious that Danny reformed before they could create the perfect weapon and are now trying to make him retreat back into his core yet again. They do their worst but do to Danny's new balanced forms He. Does. Not. Give. Danny doesn't retreat back into his core he's unable to; his body healing the damage faster than they could deal it. Eventually they decided they'd kill Danny again the same way he died the first time.

They put the now officially 1yo halfa into the portal chamber. He's cuffed and muzzled to keep him from escaping or making any of those ghostly chirps, clicks, and warbles at them. (They think Danny is threatening them but he's just showing distress and calling for an adult to help him)

They quickly turn the portal off and on again with Danny inside but when they look into the chamber there's no Phantom or ghost core.

The portal didn't kill him though. No, it blasted the infant through the infinite realms so fast he clips into a different universe and crashes directly into Bruce Wayne's living room.

The batfam are very startled because they were just having a movie night, they even got Jason to show up! Now they're trying to coax a terrified baby out from under a piece of furniture so they can get the cuffs and muzzle off him.

Everyone's gone from laughing and cringing from embarrassment from the stupid movie made about their vigilante persona's to being concerned, sad, and angry on behalf of their unexpected guest.

Damian leaves the room for a second and returns with a stuffed animal from his room, offering it to the baby. The baby doesn't have the free hands to grab it but crawls out to reach for it. Damian takes the opportunity to scoop the little boy up and removing muzzle and cuffs.

Danny immediately let's out an avalanche of repressed chirps and trills, excited to be free from his chains and happy with the toy he was given. Danny decides the angry child is okay, he didn't know about the bigger people though.

The entire fam has already decided he's theirs now and they're going to destroy whoever had the balls to do something like this to a child.

(Damian would make a great older brother and you can fight me on this! >:(

[mokulule]

Trauma Tuesday

This week in Trauma Tuesday I figured why not give Jason some dissection trauma for a change. So warning for that.

DP x DC, dead on main

Next to his parents a man’s body laid on a steel table, chest cut open, ribs broken and sticking up. Everything was glistening red.

“His heart’s not beating,” Nightwing said faintly in horror as they all realized they were too late.

“What have you done!” Danny exclaimed in despair. “Why? He’s human!”

There were lines. Lines he’d hoped his parents wouldn’t cross. Liminal or not, somehow Danny hadn’t expected they’d kill him. Experiment yes, but cut him open so he bled out?

“He’s no more human than you!” His mother snarled.

And that had Danny’s head snapping to the body. Could it be?

He zipped over and pushed his parents away with a shield, instantly they started shooting at him and his shield. He willed it to hold against the ectopowered blasts. Then focused on the body.

If he was no more human than Danny, that would mean- a tiny wisp of cold air escaped his lips as he found it, his core. Small and malnourished and somehow running on the worst ectoplasmic slough-off he’d ever seen; it was fucking beautiful.

“Hey,” he whispered reaching in intangibly cradling his hands around it where it was inside the heart itself. A consciousness shifted inside and Danny felt a wave of relief and he choked on a laugh or a sob, he wasn’t sure.

“He’s alive,” he shouted over the blasts against his shield.

“His heart’s not beating! Even if you could start it-“ Nightwing didn’t have to continue; they could all see what had been done.

But they didn’t understand.

“He’s not gone,” Danny snarled, “Deal with them.” He tossed his head towards his parents. “And I will deal with this.”

He had a core. He wasn’t just liminal. He was like Danny; that was why they’d cut him open.

-

Jason felt floaty, cradled safely in a way that was hard to explain. Distantly in his chest there was pain. It made no sense what was going on?

There was a flash of relief and then a soothing hum met the question, and an echoey voice spoke:

“Try to relax, you’re very bad off.”

Bad off? What had happened?

A shudder of grief ran over him, was the voice crying?

“I’m so, so sorry, they hurt you because you’re like me.”

There was more to the story, a complicated knot of feelings: grief and disappointment, loss, betrayal.

“But look at you, you’re so amazing.” There was a wave of pride and love, large and encompassing and Jason had no clue what to do with it. He felt- he didn’t know how to describe it: Full? Bursting? Like he was about to cry. What had he done to warrant that?

Why? Why would you?

“You are of mine, and that in itself is enough. But you are even like me.” There was a sense of wonder and longing, tickling at the edges of his awareness.

“You are so resilient, somehow you’ve managed to survive even crippled by poisoned ectoplasm.”

He got the distinct impression of a feral smile.

“Let’s see what your core can do with the good stuff.”

It felt like a shock to his chest. A jumpstart and suddenly he felt it. The ball of energy that was him, his essence, his core, and the steady stream of energy being poured in. He was more his core than he was his body.

His body, which he knew wasn’t supposed to be like this, cut open, bleeding, dying. But his body was human and human bodies required so much more than just energy to heal, how was he-

“Don’t worry. Trust, Jason. I’m giving you the energy, just trust your core to know what’s right.”

A frisson of worry shot through him.

What about you?

He felt another smile, and beneath that more affection. Somehow, despite not quite feeling the pain from his gaping chest he could feel fingers tenderly running through his hair.

“It won’t hurt me, I’m also quite resilient.”

-

So as implied here there’s a reveal gone bad in the past between Danny and his parents. They now work for the GIW.

The rest of the story you’ll find out later, there’s probably some other bits here and there that would be good for Trauma Tuesday.

[thenewgirl76]

I'll Make You Believe

While the whole "asking a ghost how they died is the worst taboo ever, so don't do it or you'll be in a world of hurt" headcanon is always fun to implement to either create temporary conflict or simply move the story along, I think it'd work just as well on both ends if it was only a minor offense.

Like if you were to ask a once living ecto being how they died the most negative response you'd get would either be some variation of "None of your business puny mortal" or an explanation using the most vividly graphic, stomach turning details as an act of petty revenge as well as insurance you never ask again.

So what could possibly be a way more serious, far more dangerous no-no when it comes to ghosts instead? Well, how about stating ghosts don't exist/there's no such things as ghosts? The reason why being you're invalidating the trauma they've experienced in their last moments.

Makes no difference whether you were aware of this or not. If they find out or worse, it's said to their face? You better hope they'll settle for beating you black-and-blue. Because the alternative is becoming a ghost yourself by the time they're done with you.

Now in dpxyj fics when Danny interacts with Wally and the whole "ghost are/aren't real" argument between them comes into play it's usually depicted as a trivial disagreement. But what if you were to make it more angsty by inserting this take on lack of ghostly etiquette?

Let's say after getting to know his teammates better Danny starts talking about his origins (in vague detail) and exploits, only to eventually be interrupted by Kid Flash declaring that he can't possibly be a ghost as they don't exist. And Robin, Aqualad, Miss Martian, and Superboy all become quite alarmed watching Danny go from easygoing to looking ready to beat Kid Flash to a pulp, as he's now fighting back his ghostly nature. To avoid giving in to the urge he abruptly leaves with a dismissive attitude, much to KF's confusion.

From there it spirals. KF, not realizing he's poking a hornets nest continuing to voice his skepticism whenever the opportunity comes up and each time Danny barely manages to keep it together. Until one day Danny in an explosive rage snatches up KF and in a tone colder than ice tells him he knows what he is, what he went through to reach that state, and that he has no need to justify any of it to him.

Then he leaves once more before he really loses it. Before going after him Miss Martian informs KF of how Danny opened his mind to her and that for his sake she hopes he never shares those memories of what he went through with him. Feeling bad now, KF tries to apologize once Danny returns. Which results in failure again and again since Danny keeps giving him the cold shoulder.

After having yet another apology disregarded KF, in mounting frustration blurts out that he wishes he understood what has Danny so convinced he's a ghost, unaware a certain wish twisting genie he was warned about had been invisibly lurking in the vicinity the instant Danny was elsewhere. Along with the rest of the regulars, as soon as KF's denials had spread to the Ghost Zone Desiree was on the warpath, intent on showing just how real ghosts truly were. By sheer spite and determination she beat everyone else to him, just in time to hear him say the forbidden word, presenting her with the perfect means of retribution.

With a "So you have wished it so shall it be" KF is magically transported to an underwater submarine, occupied by Black Manta. Unable to run as freely without potentially damaging the sub and causing it to flood, the fight upon his unexpected arrival is drawn out to the point KF starts to feel his hyper metabolism weakening him. It's when he's close to dying of starvation that one of the more incompetent goons sends him crashing into the stash of ectoplasm Manta had smuggled with the intent of using it to pollute the waters of Aquaman's Kingdom. The last thing KF sees before blacking out is Desiree looming over him with a smirk of satisfaction.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

What Fades, and What Never Will

After Danny's accident, he starts acting strangely, and after exhausting all their other options, Jack and Maddie call upon a long-time friend who once had a portal accident of his own to try and get Danny to open up.

For the Prompts: In another universe, Maddie and Jack did visit Vlad in the hospital, and stayed in contact. What happens when Danny has his accident 20 years later? [from @kinglazrus]

After the accident, the Fentons can't help but notice something wrong with Danny. And since Danny also has that terrible symptom of "being a teenager", he refuses to tell them anything. So they reach out to the only person who could possibly help: an old friend in Wisconsin. [from Mimca]

And Like Danny, Vlad also has an unfading death scar—several of them, actually. Dozens of pock scars mar his skin all over his body, a permanent reminder of his slow, painful death from ecto-acne. [from me :)]

Read also on Ao3

[Warnings for mentions of past trauma/death, and past hospitalization]

Danny's accident had given his parents quite the scare. Their son nearly dying put a serious damper on the excitement of their portal working properly, to say the least.

But after that, even though Danny insisted he was fine, and the doctors said he was in the clear, medically—they couldn't help noticing that there was something wrong with him. Maybe that was a bit harsh, maybe it would be kinder to say there was something off with him, or something different about him. But whatever it was that was different about him... it seemed very wrong.

Maybe it was like Jazz said, and he was just traumatized from the accident and isolating from his family as a coping mechanism after his parents' invention had caused him so much distress. But if that were the case... why was he going into the lab so often? Much more often than before, and it didn't seem to bother him at all to be in a place where he'd experienced so much... distress.

They tried several times to talk to Danny about it, but he also appeared to be exhibiting unrelated symptoms like 'being a teenager', which of course meant he refused to tell them anything and suggested that they, 'butt out of his business' when they pressed even a little bit.

After about a month of trying and failing to get through to Danny in any way shape or form while whatever was going on with him only seemed to get worse, they decided to call in some back-up. As it happened, Danny wasn't the only person they knew who'd had an... unfortunate experience involving an experimental ghost portal. 

Maybe... hopefully, their old friend from Wisconsin could help.

After a month of complete failure to connect, Jack and Maddie started to think that maybe he was the only person who possibly could.

Although they stayed in fairly regular contact with him, they still hesitated to ask him to come all the way out to Amity Park from another state entirely. But Vlad seemingly thought nothing of making the trip out to see them and have a chat with their boy.

After his own accident with the proto-portal, they were the only friends of his who didn't cut ties with him because they found him too grotesque to look at. They'd visited him in the hospital often, and gave the doctors all their research in the hopes that it might help cure him. Although the doctors hadn't asked, and Jack and Maddie were pretty sure they'd just thrown all the research away.

Eventually, Vlad's ecto-acne went away, although it was years before it vanished entirely. He was always terribly self-conscious about it. He refused to be in any of their wedding photos because of it, even though he was the best man. 

And even when the ecto-acne itself finally went away, it left scars, dozens, maybe hundreds of them. Vlad often complained that he had to spend a small fortune on foundation and concealer to keep them covered, even though Jack insisted they made him look cool and mysterious. Vlad argued that they made him look sickly and unkempt.

It would be good to see him again after so long. Oh, sure, they called and e-mailed each other all the time, but they hadn't seen Vlad in person since they moved to Amity Park. Danny had only been four years old at the time, so he almost certainly didn't even remember the man, even though Vlad was his and Jazz's godfather.

Two days after reaching out to him, late Saturday morning, there was a knock on the door. Jazz was the one who answered. It took her a moment to recognize the tall, gray-haired man in a fancy suit standing there, but eventually she did.

"Uncle Vlad?" she asked. "We haven't seen you in ages. What are you doing here?"

"Your parents called me the other day and asked me to come down," he replied easily. "I heard about poor Daniel's accident. They were hoping I might be able to commiserate with him, since I was in a similar unfortunate accident myself with our prototype portal many years ago." 

Jazz nodded slowly. "That... could be good for him. Personally, I'm pretty sure it was a traumatic experience for him, but he won't talk to anyone about it."

Vlad's expression was sympathetic. "It would be a traumatic experience for anyone. May I come in?"

"Oh, right," Jazz stepped aside to let him through the door into the house. "Sorry."

"Think nothing of it," Vlad said. "Are you parents around? I'd like to say hello."

"Down in the lab," Jazz told him, pointing to the basement door.

He nodded his thanks, remarked how good it was to see her, and what a lovely young woman she'd grown into since he last saw her, and then headed down into the lab to talk to her parents.

"Maddie?" he called down. "Jack?"

"Vladdie!" Jack shouted.

As soon a Vlad reached the bottom of the stairs, he was tackled in a massive bear hug. His arms were pinned to his sides and the breath squeezed out of his lungs.

"Let go of me you big oaf!" he wheezed out.

Jack dropped him with a good-natured laugh, and Vlad gasped for air for a bit before chuckling with him.

"It's good to have you over, Vlad," Maddie said, though she didn't move from where she was standing over a laboratory apparatus. "I would walk over to greet, but I'm holding volatile chemicals at the moment. Just give me a minute to stabilize the experiment." 

"It's quite alright, Maddie, dear," Vlad said. "Don't rush on my account; especially not where volatile chemicals are involved."

"Thank goodness you're here, Vladdie," Jack said excitedly. "I'll finally get to show you all the new inventions we've made since moving here."

Vlad gave him blundering old friend an amused smile. "And approximately what percentage of these inventions actually function as intended?"

Jack looked sheepish, though the excitement didn't fade from him.

"Oh, but here, I thought you asked me to come all the way down from Wisconsin to talk to your Daniel," Vlad added. "Perhaps seeing all your hundreds of failed inventions and a dozen or so working ones can wait?"

"I guess so," Jack agreed, though he seemed very reluctant.

"Yes about Danny," Maddie said. 

She'd apparently finished at the apparatus and was carrying a rack of test-tubes to the nearby freezer to be stored until the next phase of her experiment.

"We told you he had an accident in the new ghost portal," Maddie said. "I thought we'd disconnected the power source before leaving it unsupervised, but I guess not. The doctors say he'd fine, physically, and Danny insists he's fine, too, but... something just doesn't seem right with him anymore. Jazz says he's traumatized, but he doesn't seem anxious in the lab at all, so we're just not sure. 

"Obviously he won't talk to us, but we were hoping, if you told him about your own experience, that he might be willing to talk to you."

Vlad nodded thoughtfully. "You know, he probably doesn't remember me," he pointed out. "To him, I'll be a stranger prying into something he probably doesn't want to even think about, let alone discuss."

"We know it's probably a long shot, but we had to try something, you know?" Maddie looked more worried than Vlad had seen her since he was still laid up in the hospital. "I'm just... I'm worried about him. We all are. He's been acting so strangely lately, cagey and short-tempered, maybe it is just stress, but it can't be healthy for him to keep it all bottled up. You'll at least try, won't you?"

Vlad looked at her distraught expression and nodded once, firmly. "I'll try," he agreed. "But if Daniel does talk to me, and he asks that I not relay what we talk about to his parents, I won't violate his trust."

Maddie shook her head, a sigh of relief escaping her. "That's fine," she said. "We don't need to know everything. We just want him to have someone he can talk to, so he doesn't have to bottle everything up. Right, Jack?"

"Absolutely," Jack agreed. "Whatever's best for Danny is good enough for us."

"Alright then," Vlad said. "Is he here now?"

"I think he's out with his friends right now," Maddie said. "He'll be back for dinner though. At least, he'd better be."

He removed his jacket and hung it on a hook next to a lab coat, which he put on in its place. It must've been Jack's judging by the way he practically drowned in it, but he rolled up the sleeves without complaint and ignored the way the bottom of it touched the floor when he bent his knees even a little bit.

"Then, for now, how about I give you both a hand in the lab," he suggested. "Where might I find a spare set of safety goggles?"

—

Danny was late for dinner, but he didn't miss it at least. The Fentons weren't really a regular family dinners kind of household, so when they told Danny they would be having a family dinner tonight, he knew there would be consequences for skipping out. Still, he was surprised to see a mysterious, well-dressed guest at the table when he hurried into the kitchen.

"Uh... hi?" Danny greeted, awkwardly taking a seat between his dad and his sister.

"Daniel, so nice of you to join us," the stranger greeted with a smile. "You know I think this is the best chicken casserole your mother's ever made."

"Not that it's a very high bar," Maddie joked.

"Don't say that, Maddie," the stranger said. "You're a... perfectly adequate cook."

Maddie laughed out loud.

"Um, not to be rude or anything, but... who's this?" Danny asked, jerking a thumb over at the stranger.

"Oh, that's right, you wouldn't remember Vlad," his mother told her. "He's our friend from college, and you kids' godfather. He was really close with the family when we lived in Wisconsin, but since we moved, he mostly just talks with me and your father over e-mail. I'm sure we've mentioned him before."

Danny did vaguely recognize the name Vlad. This was probably the same Vlad his dad called Vladdie and gushed about while his kids tuned

"Yes, the last time I saw you, Daniel, you were only four years old," Vlad said. "At risk of sounding like an out-of-touch old man, you've certainly grown since I saw you last."

"Yeah, that tends to happen in ten years," Danny pointed out. He narrowed his eyes at Vlad, scrutinizing him. "What brings you all the way out to Amity Park?"

"Oh, I was doing some business a couple towns over, and figured since I was so close, I might as well pay a visit to some old friends."

It was a perfectly plausible excuse, especially since Danny was pretty sure his parents had mentioned their Vlad was some kind of businessman. It didn't ease Danny's suspicions at all.

Throughout dinner, Vlad maintained a casual, friendly conversation with the rest of the family, easily defusing Danny's loaded, accusatory questions. When dinner was over, Danny went straight up to his room. He'd had a long day and was hoping to turn in early, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to actually fall asleep until well after midnight, if he slept at all.

He wasn't expecting a knock on his bedroom door a few minutes later.

Vlad being on the other side of it was less of a surprise. He glared at Vlad, but the man seemed completely unperturbed.

"I have a confession to make," he said.

"Oh yeah? I'm shocked," Danny replied sarcastically.

"I didn't want to bring it up in front of everyone and put you on the spot," Vlad said. "But the truth of the matter is that your parents asked me to come in the hopes that I might be able to talk to you, commiserate, I suppose, about your recent accident in their lab."

"And why on earth would I talk to you about about it?"

"Because I know what you're going through," Vlad replied.

"No offense��actually, yes offense," Danny said, "but I'm pretty sure you have no idea what I'm going through."

Vlad raised an eyebrow, and then his blue eyes glowed a sinister red. Danny gasped and his eyes blew wide in shock.

"No offense, Daniel," he said, "but I'm pretty sure I do." He let the light fade and smiled, a little smug, but not unkindly. "May I come in?"

Danny nodded mutely and let Vlad through before closing the door behind him.

"You're like me," he said incredulously. "How?"

"The portal in which you had you own accident was not the first your parents made," Vlad began to explain. He straightened up Danny's blankets before taking a seat on his bed. "When we were in college, the three of us formed a paranormal science club, and we made a prototype portal. It didn't work, but it did turn on and... badly injured me when it did so. 

"Your father turned it on, actually. He got a little over-excited and hit the button prematurely. I was very angry at him about it for a while, but... bygones." He shrugged. 

Danny continued to stand in the center of his room, staring openly at the man who'd already made himself comfortable and was casually describing what must've been a horrific accident—if it was anything like Danny's, that is—as if it were nothing more than another boring anecdote about his past.

"I spent years in the hospital after my accident," Vlad continued. "Your parents were the only people who ever visited me. I was so unsightly after my own accident that all my other quote-unquote 'friends' couldn't stand to look at me."

"You look alright now," Danny observed.

"Ha!" Vlad barked a short laugh. "Not without effort, I assure you."

"Do my parents know you're—"

"Oh, heavens no, can you imagine the embarrassment?" Vlad scoffed. "Of all the things to do me in, ecto-acne was what did it. No, bad enough I had to suffer the nasty condition for so long, nobody needs to know how much it truly affected me."

"Ecto-acne?" Danny questioned.

Vlad waved him off. "Never mind that. Now that I've told you my story, would you care to share yours?"

"I..."

Vlad patted the empty space on the bed next to him. "You can lock the door if you're worried about someone coming in."

"No, you'll just tell my parents," Danny said. "You're their friend, not mine."

"If you don't want me to tell them, I won't tell them," Vlad refuted. "In fact I said as much to them earlier today. Death, even half-death is a very personal thing, and no matter how close I am to your parents, I would never disregard your privacy in such a matter. I may be their friend, but I'm your godfather."

"You promise you won't tell them anything?" Danny asked.

"I promise," Vlad confirmed, then smiled lightly. "Cross my heart and hope to die." 

He patted the bed beside him again, but this time Danny sat. He didn't speak at first, but after a long moment of getting his thoughts in order, he opened his mouth an began to tell his story.

"My friends and I were just... messing around I guess," he said. "I told them about my parents portal, and how they were upset because it didn't work, and they wanted to see it, so I showed them. Sam wanted to get some pictures, and she asked if she could get one of me inside. At first, I said no because I thought it might be dangerous, but... I figured the portal didn't work anyway, and it would be kind of cool, so I did it.

"She got her picture, but then, on my way out... I guess I put my hand on the wall. I don't know what happened, I felt something move under my fingers and then... the portal turned on."

"You were inside it at the time?" Vlad asked, sounding surprised. "Standing fully inside?"

"Yeah," Danny confirmed. "You weren't?"

Vlad shook his head. "No, the prototype portal was only about as big as a desktop computer monitor. I couldn't have stood inside if I wanted to. I was standing in front of it when it turned on, and it... well, I suppose you could say it quite literally blew up in my face."

"Oh..." Danny got real quiet for a moment, and then asked, "Do you still remember how painful it was when it turned on?"

Vlad stiffened, and he got a faraway look on his face. "Every day," he replied. "That agony has stayed with me for twenty years."

"That's comforting," Danny grumbled.

Vlad tilted his head in acknowledgement. "I wish I could give you better news, but something that changes you on such a fundamental level was never going to simply fade away."

"The scar will, though, right?" Danny asked. "He pulled up his sleeve to reveal an angry red Lichtenberg figure sprawling across his forearms and disappearing under his sleeve. "The doctors said it should fade in a day or two, but it's been a month now and.... But you said the portal blew up in your face, and I don't see any scars there, so it will fade, won't it?"

That scar felt like it was staring at Vlad even harder than he was staring at it. His eyebrows drew together in sympathy and anguish. He reached into his pocket and his fingers closed around the small make-up kit he always carried around for touch ups.

"I'm afraid not, my boy," Vlad said apologetically, and pulled up his own sleeve to reveal the pock marks scattered on his forearm. "I use make-up to cover the ones on my face, but death scars never fade. Be grateful you only have the one."

Danny stared down at the marks with despair written all over his face.

"If it's any consolation, you do get used to them," Vlad assured him, pulling his sleeve back down to cover the marks. "It will always remind you of what happened every time you see it, and the memories will always hurt, but the pain, like all pain, gets boring after a while, and starts to carry less weight."

"Really?" Danny covered up his own scar again, but looked up a Vlad hopefully.

"Yes, really," Vlad said. "Humans are the most adaptable creatures on the planet, and, despite everything, you are still human to some extent. As am I."

Danny smiled a bit at that. He'd be ruminating on the fact that he wasn't fully human anymore for the past month, and the reminder that he was still human, at least in part, was more than welcome. It was a nice reprieve, actually.

"How long did it take for you to realize you had changed?" Vlad asked. "Not long, I suspect."

"No, not long at all," Danny said with a slight laugh. "I went into the portal human and came out a ghost, so that was my first clue. When Jazz and my parents came down in a rush after hearing my screams, I was able to change back just on impulse, although I had no idea how I did it at the time. I think maybe I just passed out and turned human automatically.

"Then I got rushed to the hospital."

"So... it was instantaneous for you?" Vlad asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah... it wasn't for you?"

"No, it wasn't," Vlad said, his shoulders slumped and his face fell. "My... condition took much longer to kill me than that. It was years before it had run its course and I discovered how it had changed me and what I could do."

As soon as he saw the pity on Danny's face, Vlad averted his gaze. It had been twenty years since his accident. He didn't need pity anymore. He never had.

"That sounds awful," Danny observed.

Vlad almost laughed at how obvious the statement was.

"Yes, quite," he agreed. "But I've had plenty of time to come to terms with it. You, on the other hand, are still in the existential angst part of your journey. 'What am I? Where do I belong? What do I do with myself? How should I use these powers? Did I even deserve to half-survive? Should something like me even exist?' these questions and more keeping you up into the wee hours of the night. Am I close?"

"Dead on, actually," Danny said, his shoulders sagging. "I haven't been sleeping very well lately."

Vlad put his hands behind him and leaned back slightly on the bed.

"Well that's in part because you simply don't need as much sleep as you once did," Vlad noted. "The more time you spend in your ghost form, the less sleep your human form needs. It's all to do with the delegation of energy. 

"Ghosts and humans regain energy and use energy in ways that are too different to be compatible with each other. Your human brain, body, and internal functions can't consume energy when you're in ghost form, so you don't need to recharge as much in human form, and vice-versa. You may have noticed you don't get hungry as much as you used to either."

"Yeah, actually," Danny confirmed, a little incredulous.

Vlad smiled at him. "I had to figure all this out on my own, but if you accept my help, you won't have to go through all the trial and error that I did. I'm more than happy to teach you. 

"I'm only planning on staying in Amity park for a few days because I do have to get back to my business eventually, but I'll give you my contact information, direct line so you won't have to go through my assistants. That way, if you have any questions, or need help with anything, you can reach out to me, and I'll do my best to answer any question you may have."

For a long moment, Danny just stared at Vlad, like he was trying to see through the thick layer of make-up on his face to the scars beneath. Vlad inhaled deeply and tried not to squirm under the teenager's gaze.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Danny asked. "Just 'cause you're friends with my parents? You barely know me."

"For the same reason you were willing to open up to me, even though you don't have any memories of me before today, I suppose," Vlad answered with a shrug. "It's... it's a relief to know that I'm not alone anymore, especially after all the years. It's terribly lonely to be one-of-a-kind, isn't it?"

Danny nodded and looked down at the floor.

"Besides, even if we don't know each other very well anymore, I'm still your godfather," Vlad reminded him. "I do rather have a responsibility to be nice to you, even if you were a wretched, awful boy, which, thankfully, you don't seem to be."

The not wretched, not awful boy chuckled softly.

"Now, is there anything else you want to talk about?" Vlad asked. "It's getting fairly late."

Danny shook his head. "But uh... thanks for coming all this way just to talk to me."

"I would have flown in from another country," Vlad assured him. He stood up from the bed and straightened his clothes. "Would you uh... like a... hug or something? Physical affection isn't really my forté, but—"

"No," Danny cut him off. "No hugs, thanks."

"Good, good," Vlad agreed awkwardly. "Ah!"

He reached into his pocket and took out one of his business cards. On the back, he wrote his personal phone and email address, along with the words 'direct line', so that Danny would be able to reach him directly.

"Hold onto that, reach out whenever you need to," he said, handing the card to Danny. "Might I suggest that, now that you don't need as much sleep as you used to, you use the extra time to work on your homework? Your parents tell me your grades have been slipping since the accident, and while that's perfectly understandable, you really ought to try to maintain at least a 'C' average. 

"Trust me, you don't want to be in high school any longer than is absolutely necessary, I assure you. Your life will improve dramatically after high school graduation, and anyone who says 'high school is the best years of your life' is an idiot of the highest caliber. I spent a good portion of my college years hospitalized, and it was still better than high school. You do not want to be held back a year."

"Noted," Danny said, looking vaguely horrified at the prospect. "I'll get going on that homework."

Vlad nodded curtly and left the room. He headed down the hall to Jack and Maddie's bedroom, but of course they hadn't gone to bed yet, so instead he headed down to the lab to say goodbye before he went to his hotel for the night. They had offered him their couch, since they didn't have a guest room, but he had politely refused. It wasn't as if he needed to save money on this trip, and the four-star hotel he'd found was much more comfortable than their old, stained couch.

"Still working into the wee hours, I see," he commented when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Vladdie!" Jack greeted, boisterously as always. "How did it go with Danny."

"It went very well," Vlad replied. "After I told him about my experience, he was willing to open up to me about his—although as I expected, he asked me to keep it between us. Still, I think you'll find his demeanor will start to improve now that he had some one he can relate to. He'll probably never be exactly as he was before, but no one ever is."

Maddie stepped over and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "Thank you Vlad, truly," she said into his ear, and he blushed so hard he feared that Jack might see it through his many layers of foundation. "You're a life-saver."

He cleared his throat when she let him go. Even after all these years of being happily friends with her and Jack, his feelings for her hadn't gone away entirely. They probably never would.

"Think nothing of it," he said. "I'm always happy to come to the aid of my god-children, and to you."

She smiled at him, and Jack gave him a hearty pat on the back that nearly bowled him right over. Another thing that hadn't changed after all these years was that Jack still didn't know his own strength.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I only came down for a brief chat and to say goodbye—"

"No! You're leaving already Vladdie?" Jack looked positively crestfallen.

"Relax, Jack," Vlad said. "I'm only going to my hotel for the night. I'll be back tomorrow. The three of us have a lunch appointment, remember? And I agreed to go bowling with you on Saturday. I'm staying in town for six days, you dope." He shook his head, though he couldn't deny it was just a bit fond.

"Oh, hehe. Right," Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "We'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Wouldn't miss it, Jack," Vlad said. "And it's been a delight as always, Maddie. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Vlad!" they both called up after him as he ascended the basement stairs with a hidden smile.

[alanaartdream]

Ok some more drawings and ideas I’ve got with nicktoons unite with fairy Timmy au

Totally see Danny having fun being the big brother to both fairy Timmy and toddler Poof/peri

He could totally help Wanda & Cosmo help teaching Timmy to learn to fly (( also I see that being as Danny’s sister and friends were great at keeping his ghost powers a secret during his teenage years he can trust them not to tell about Fairies or that missing Timmy is now a fairy; also if I recall Jazz Danny’s sister was studying to be a therapist so she could help Timmy with any trama his birth parents caused and being as she’s so good at that I could see other fairies going to her for that kinda help or advice on helping their god children probably my fairy oc felicity would end up talking to her about her past childhood trauma of before she became a fairy and was taken in by Jorgen’s nana boom boom ( probably really helps Jazz out with her studies)

Also see felicity wanting to visit Jazz a lot to try to find ways to make sure Timmy will hopefully be last of human children being turned into a fairy because it’s extremely dangerous because not all humans make it through the change (and it mostly only works when they’re young) (Jimmy overheard this while Danny was too busy flying with Timmy & poof/peri at the time; Timmy already knows the dangers they did let him know before the change so he’s very understanding of why fairies don’t change humans into fairies too often and only in extreme cases) (Jazz will talk to Danny about it later once they’re back in their universe so they talk to Sam and trucker about it to get ideas on helping fairy world set better rules on the subject) totally seeing Jimmy having a few nightmares of losing Timmy forever over news of how things could’ve gone wrong with change from human to fairy

Now as much as they’d like to share information with Carl and Sheen they haven’t yet proven that they can keep secrets yet (some events will happen 1st but then once they prove themselves to fairy council they get approved and after that I’ll bet the girls Cindy and Libby want to ask questions like was half fairytales about fairies true or was some things misunderstood;; Jimmy getting a little overprotective of Timmy/ and in some cases poof/peri being as he’s like Timmy’s little brother and will go anyway Timmy does of when Cindy / Libby is around trying to get them land on their hands in fairy form because most fairies are tiny and cute aannnd Timmy & peri/poof are fairy children witch makes them super tiny compared to adult fairy’s; can totally see the girls wanting to watch them fly around in tiny fairy forms much to Jimmy’s annoy

Also totally see Danny/ Jazz and fairy felicity being the first one to pick up on Jimmy developing stronger feelings for Timmy witch felicity lets slip to them just don’t let Cupid hear about that and them shocked Cupid exists in their universe and same thing about the tooth fairy or that tooth fairy engaged / married to Jorgen then because they asking so much has to let on about the other holiday spirits in fairy universe as well as about anti fairies and pixies

[star-anise]

reading supercut: disability, body image, and trauma

A glimpse into the clothes thrashing around in the washing machine of my mind, with apologies that it is still a wet lump and not an actual synthesis of ideas.

From Easy Beauty: A Memoir by Chloé Cooper Jones:

[This event] embedded a damaging idea in me, one I’d recognize deeply when I read Scarry years later: beauty was a matter of particulars aligning correctly. My body put me in a bracketed, undercredited sense of beauty. But if I could get the particulars lined up just right, I could be re-seen, discovered like the palm tree is discovered. To be deserving of the whole range of human desires, I had to be extraordinary in all other aspects. In this new light, I started to see my work, my intellect, my skills, my moments of humor or goodness, not as valuable in themselves, but as ways of easing the impact of my ugliness. If only I could pile up enough good qualities, they could obscure my unacceptable body. [...] accepting the argument that beauty was malleable came, for me, with a cost. The Platonian view rejected me cleanly, but Hume and Scarry left a door ajar and I’ve spent a lifetime trying to contort my form to see if I could pass through it.

From Til We Have Faces: A Myth Retold by CS Lewis:

I now determined that I would go always veiled. I have kept this rule, within doors and without, ever since. It is a sort of treaty made with my ugliness. There had been a time in childhood when I didn't yet know I was ugly. Then there was a time (for in this book I must hide none of my shames or follies) when I believed, as girls do — and as Batta was always telling me — that I could make it more tolerable by this or that done to my clothes or my hair. Now, I chose to be veiled.

From Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy of Borderline Personality Disorder by Marsha Linehan:

Inhibited grieving is understandable among borderline patients. People can only stay with a very painful process or experience if they are confident that it will end some day, some time—that they can "work through it," so to speak. It is not uncommon to hear borderline patients say they feel that if they ever do cry, they will never stop Indeed, that is their common experience—the experience of not being able to control or modulate their own emotional experiences. [...] In the face of such helplessness and lack of control, inhibition and avoidance of cues associated with grieving are not only understandable, bur perhaps wise at times. Inhibition, however, has its costs. [...] Volkan (1983) describes an interesting phenomenon, "established pathological mourning", which is similar to the pattern I am describing. In established pathological mourning, the individual wishes to complete mourning, but at the same time persistently attempts to undo the reality of the loss.

From How to Respond to Criticism by Danny Lavery:

Apologize, but don’t really mean it, and plant a seed of secret resentment so deep in your own heart that years later you can’t even remember that you’re the one who nurtured it and made it grow, it seems that much like a native part of you.

From Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed:

[After learning that state child protective services had made a budgetary decision to only intervene with children under 12, to one of the teenagers that regularly shared stories of abuse at home] I told her it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell her it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told her it would likely go on and she’d have to survive it. That she’d have to find a way within herself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it [...] I told her that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if she wanted to not make her mother’s life her destiny, she had to be the one to make it happen. She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she’d ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal.

From Essays in Aesthetics by Jean-Paul Sartre:

Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you.

From "I Know What You Think of Me" by Tim Kreider:

if we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Memory

whumptoer24 day 15- childhood trauma fandom- dp x dc tw- neglect, implied torture summary- Danny remembers so much, he wishes he could forget so much more

masterlist ao3 part 5 of TFR

Danny remembers that when he was little, his parents were more involved in their lives. He can remember his father swinging him around and his mother holding his hand as they walked through the park. He can remember going to the playground and playing hide and seek with Jazz and their parents. He remembers family meals and playing board games. He remembers hugs and kisses and being tucked into bed. He remembers bedtime stories and his mother singing while she cooked, and his dad telling terrible jokes. He remembers being loved.

But he also remembers Jazz standing on a step stool as she tried to cook mac ’n cheese. He remembers walking to school in the snow with Jazz. They are already late, they waited too long for their parents. He remembers being hungry when there wasn’t food in the house. He remembers not seeing his parents all day. He remembers sneaking down the basement stairs to ask his mom to read him a bedtime story. He remembers how she scowled at him and told him to go to his room, that they were busy. He remembers Jazz telling him bedtime stories and tucking him in. He remembers Jazz taking him to the park, and doing odd chores for neighbors so she could buy some groceries so they’d have food to eat. He remembers her hugs and how she’d hold him close and kiss his forehead and tell him that she loved him.

He remembers being loved. He remembers being lonely. He remembers wishing his parents would pay him more attention. He remembers feeling selfish that he wished for their attention when they told him they were doing important work that will help the whole world.

He remembers growing up not knowing if today he would be loved or ignored. He remembers Jazz’s steadfastness.

But he remembers when his parents spent more time downstairs than upstairs except to sleep. Things changed then. His parents were no longer geniuses who were trying to save the world. He remembers when he stopped fighting his classmates who said his parents were crazy. He remembers bitterly thinking that they might be.

He remembers his parents forgetting to pick him up from school or from friends’ houses. He remembers them accidentally locking him and Jazz out of the house, and they were too afraid of what would happen if they broke a window so they slept outside.

He remembers that he ran away once. He took his backpack stuffed with clothes and a few granola bars and his stuffed rabbit. Instead of walking to school he went into the small woods near Amity, thinking that he could live with the animals like the characters in his stories.

He remembers getting lost, being cold, being hungry, being scared of every little noise. He remembers crying out for his parents, hoping that they’d rescue him. He remembers finally stumbling out of the woods and making his way home. It was dark already, and when he stumbled inside Jazz was there, crying and pulling him into her arms. His parents hadn’t noticed.

And then the portal opened. And everything changed but nothing really did.

His parents were obsessed, they had been right, ghosts were real.

There was never food in the house now. Not unless he or jazz brought it in. When his parents noticed they complaid and said he and Jazz had to start ‘pulling their own weight.’ They didn’t realize that jazz worked hard to try and pay the bills that accumulated and that Danny had started taking care of neighbors’ yards when he could to try and help put food on the table. It wasn’t consistent. It couldn’t be, not with ghost fights and escaping his parents.

And it was hard, but a year went by and he was getting the hang of it.

Then they found out and everything spiraled.

He tries not to remember the looks on their faces. He tries not to remember the cold metal table and scalpels laced with ectoranium. He tries not to remember them shoving Jazz when she tried to free him, then locking her in a cage ‘for her own good.’ He tries not to remember Sam and Tucker bursting in and fighting his parents. He tries not to remember them stitching him back up after they’d knocked his parents out. He tries not to remember Sam shoving a credit card into his hand and telling him and Jazz to run.

He remembers so many things. He wishes he could forget so many more.

[impyssadobsessions]

Prompt/Relationship Analysis/Headcanon DPxDC

Okay This can be taken as a prompt~ As I love to dive into possibilities of WHAT IF- Basically after becoming friends/adopted by the bats and entering the hero circle he starts to become insecure in his place as a hero. Not feeling good enough.

So I can imagine after Danny befriends/gets in touch with the batfamily in some way. Like they've pretty much adopted him and now he's surrounded by heroes- (Both from Gotham and outside of it) That he starts to get insecure about his heroics as phantom. He starts to get to know other vigilantes, some with similar struggles and then it just dawns on him that they're better at it then him.. in every way. There is always someone who has one of his powers and does it better. Who can do the only thing he has been dedicating himself to- way better. And it hurts. Danny who grew up with a "perfect" older sister and being known as the failure of the two-I can see his insecurity eat at him. The feeling of not being good enough. Which is bad if mixing his trauma and guilt of a future that never happened or fear of losing everyone. ESPECIALLY because he's close to the bats.. The batfamily are perfectionist- because they have to be but Danny can't see that. Even rougher if the bats don't even realize they're doing it. Yeah they're better at sneaking, duh. They're highly skilled, because they've trained on it to be that way. Even if they don't hold the standard on Danny's head- it kills him to know he with all his powers is struggling to be as good as them. Can see only ones really about to notice are like Duke and Steph, or like Kon and other YJ members. Those that know how it feels to be next to them. Kon or Steph having to basically spell it out for Tim- which Tim like what? Then realizes and feels dumb because its so obvious. (plus having felt that way before just feels like a double whammy) (Can see all the bat members having felt that pressure too so its like an OOF how did I not notice moment) Or Step and Duke spelling it out for the rest of the family.. like DUH =w= Babs probably figures it out too. Imagine a cute heart to heart with Duke and Steph, and Alfred. Those picking up on the reason WHY Danny's acting strange. Danny pushing himself harder- feeling guilty about making it a competition but also not wanting to fail- ends up breaking down a little. Because he feels not enough. Even if he had reconciled with his parents and everything- still lingers that he was failing school.. struggling as a hero, struggling with relationships. Now he with other heroes and the doubts are so heavy. But he has no choice to pull through. So he does as he always does and keeps going even if he's crashing. Danny just not realizing his worth, despite everyone seeing it. Idk just seem like a perfect bonding moment for after Danny enters the dc world, for the bats to be like OH fucking right. Because they just accepted him as their own- Like setup for each bat to have their own one on one with DAnny. Each relating in different ways. Learning each has their own motivation and they all worry about not being enough- but how they cope. Danny rethinking reasons why he saves ppl- and in the end its just because he CANT let things happen when he has the power to stop it.. And even if he's not enough- he's there. And that can make such a difference. ......IDK if any of this made sense btw- couldn't focus properly at work because many scenarios of this was popping in my head. Still can't focus enough to keep a consistent thought- BUT I wanted to get this out <3 Because the scenarios in my head are so cute.

[illya-roma]

DC X DP

https://www.tumblr.com/autumnmercy/714761304587550720/alexunlawful-what-if-each-yamask-had-a-unique?source=share

This gave me the best angst idea ever.

So what if people who died painfully and became ghosts would carry with them a palm sized emblem that showed how they died and give the same feelings of whatever caused them death for however long it took in a blink of an eye with its trauma when it's touched.

And the only reason they have that is to tell older ghosts and only the living touched by death that this is a TRAUMATISED newborn/ baby.

Practically, it's telling the surrounding ghost to play nicely and to let the baby win. Because see how they died? Oh you don't think that was painful? Will how about you come and touch it then? Go on, see how that is not painful at all.

Aka don't be a dick to the baby ghost

And older ghosts aren't allowed to tell them why they have it not because of an oath but to make sure that the baby gets better at ghost communicating, ghost emotional bonds, and stronger abilities while making it their idea to keep them getting better.

Because ghosts specifically children ( or teenagers) will not do something with enough care unless it's their idea. And will just say that it shows how you died and that it disappears after getting somewhat comfortable with the fact that you died ( when you become comfortable as a ghost/ become old enough to take care of yourself while dealing with other old ghosts but they won't say that)

Enter Danny going on a month school field trip/ family trip/ vacation by himself visiting a measum with Wonder Woman feeling a shit ton of death energy and "innocently" asking what this emblem is cause she never seen something like this before.

Danny just says that his friend is interested in occult and goth things (true, Sam) bought it (not true, but the thing attaches itself to what ever he's currently wearing so Sam took the fall for the team) because the seller said that it shows the wearer what they will die from (half truth) but for some reason it worked with only him and attached itself to him. And that they could not find the seller to ask them about it.

He says that death by a five lightning bolts doesn't sound too bad in jest.

Daina believes him and wonders what happened to the occultist that just had an item of future death telling and why it only worked with him.

She asks to inspect it.

Daina Prince a being who is touched by death/ related to death itself.

Wonder Woman, who can handle getting thrown through 12 building and stand up like it's nothing.

The amazon warrior, who repeatedly fought powerful entities that almost destroyed the entire universe and came out victorious.

...

Daina, the strong amazon warrior, experiences what it feels like to be a human, a small human child filled with so much curiosity and so much hope for the future, getting electrocuted for forty five minutes.

(And being ripped apart molecule by molecule and put together into something new but they focus more on the pain that will be given to a small teenager.)

Danny blinks, holds her steady and asks if she's okay?

She says she's fine, just didn't take her medicine. (Daina doesn't take medication, Daina doesn'tget sick, Daina doesn't get sick Diana doesnt get sick Dianadoesn'tgetsickDianad)

Danny tells a joke to make her feel better, brings her water to help her and asks if he should bring her anything while holding her hair up.

Daina vomits in the trashcan but tells him it's just the consequences of not taking her medication and thanks him.

Danny stays with her, comforting her,distracting her by talking about the beautiful constellation in the night sky, telling her that she'll be okay and help is on the way until her coworkers come with a mid kit.

Daina thanks him.

Danny wishes her health and safety with his large hopeful eyes and leaves.

Danny forgets about the interaction.

Daina did not.

___________________

[quadrantadvisor]

Danny Phantom Crossover Angst Week: Prompt - GIW Experimentation

Fandom: Marvel "Team Red"

Words: 2,550

Read on AO3

The new government offices in the Kitchen were suspicious, simply by virtue how un-suspicious they were. Matt, Foggy, and Karen had poured over their documentation, and found it to be squeaky clean and overly banal. Not that it mattered, really, when Matt was going to stake out their building regardless. Newcomers on his turf had to prove themselves.

Matt didn’t like what he heard.

It may, in fact, be time to call in the cavalry. No matter how deeply, desperately, Matt did not want to do that.

-

“You hear that, Spidey?” Wade Wilson crooned. “Ol’ Hornhead needs our help.”

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Spiderman said mirthfully, shaking his head.

They’d been like this for several minutes. Matt was cataloging and systematically shuffling through his life choices, trying to decide which one in particular led him to this moment (so that if he ever had the opportunity to time travel, he could prevent this.)

“Listen,” he told them. “I called you because I have reason to believe this situation is urgent, but my source has been unable to retrieve certain necessary information.”

“Like what?” Spiderman asked before Deadpool could get a word in edgewise.

“Like the dimensions of the building. I know that they don’t match the official schematics, but not what they actually are.”

“That seems very unlikely,” Wade cut in. “I thought you had like, a psychic connection to every part of your kitchen. How does anyone build something without you knowing about it?”

“I’m not psychic,” Matt deadpanned. Who needed a sixth sense? Matt did just fine with the ones he had. “But the answer is, very carefully.”

“Sure, sure,” Spiderman said. “And what’s the actual emergency?”

“They’re holding someone against their will,” Matt told him, glad to cut to the chase. “I have reason to believe that this person is in a great deal of danger, and has been tortured and experimented on for a significant amount of time.”

“The US government is doing this?” Spiderman asked, surprised. “After how many human rights scandals we’ve had in the past few years? Are they stupid?”

“Yes,” Matt answered immediately. “But there seems to be some question of this person’s level of sentience. My source said the attitude of the agents was, ‘Don’t worry if it’s screaming, that means it’s working.’”

The cold slide of a katana being drawn made Matt realize that he should’ve been paying more attention to Deadpool, who had become strangely quiet.

“DP, you good?” Spiderman asked, because he was naive enough to ask questions he already knew the answer to. Matt had gotten caught up in his own urgency, and completely forgotten to take Wade’s history into account. He’d stumbled into a thorny web of traumas, and had no one to blame but himself.

“Doing great, Spidey!” Deadpool said with a cold cheer, and Matt fought the urge to shiver. “Feeling very ready to teach some remedial lessons on human/alien/magical and/or mechanical construct rights! C’mon, team, time’s a-wasting!” And he was off.

Spiderman turned towards Matt and paused, presumably trying to share some sort of look (which wouldn’t have worked regardless, did he forget he wore a full face mask?) Then he tensed to leap, and Matt followed suit, the two of them determined to clean up whatever mess Deadpool made.

-

Deadpool had been made emphatically aware that, if he killed on their watch, neither Spiderman nor Daredevil would ever work with him again. Matt guessed that that promise was the only thing keeping him from further brutality. The stench of blood grew quickly cloying.

“HEY!” Spiderman shouted on his left.

“What?” Deadpool asked in front of him. “It’s not like he needs both hands.”

Spiderman’s webbing thwip-ed out, staunching the wound. “You guys picked a really bad day to wear white,” he said to the swearing agent.

“Lay off the suits, freak!” another one said, aiming his strange weapon at Matt’s friend. Matt quickly disarmed him.

Their suits were entirely white? No wonder they smelled so strongly of starch and bleach. Another point towards government stupidity.

The three of them made their way deeper into the facility, and white suits were replaced with white lab coats, though the scientists still carried the little noisy pistols, powered by something Matt couldn’t identify by smell. Whatever kind of energy it was, it left strong taste on his tongue, like citrus and metal and sparking electricity.

Then, finally, they found what they were looking for.

As soon as he opened the door, Deadpool’s tone changed, from frightening mania to a solemn sort of despair. “Fuck,” he said under his breath.

Matt was in an unfamiliar building, having to feel his way through as he went. He’d had to navigate combat situations while ignoring a great many assaults upon his senses, from loud alarms to overwhelming scents to a completely unfamiliar power source that made his skin tingle. But the inside of that room was worse. Matt resisted the urge to plug his nose against the air saturated with bleach, old blood, and rotten… whatever it was.

Spiderman, seeing into the room, gasped, then composed himself, following Deadpool inside.

“Hey, kid,” Deadpool said softly. This was why, despite all the instincts telling him otherwise, Matt trusted Wade. Wade cared about vulnerable people, in a way that was both obvious and experienced. He wore his care on his sleeve. Matt couldn’t help but admire it, and felt a kinship he couldn’t quite deny. “We’re gonna get you out of here, okay?”

A mumble responded, drawing Matt’s attention, and he drew short. There was certainly a structure in the center of the room, and upon that structure (gurney?) was…

It was unlike anything Matt had ever experienced. It was in the shape of a person, yes, but it was almost like the absence of a person. Cold emanated from the space, but air seemed to pass right through it. Sound was drawn in by the shape, muffled. Was there really someone there? Matt’s skin prickled. (Matt still wasn’t psychic. But something about it didn’t feel right. Like it wanted him to be afraid.)

The figure wheezed.

“He can’t be older than sixteen,” Spiderman whispered.

“Hey, kid, hey, they really did a number on you, huh? Can you hear me?”

This time, there was no response, just the same shallow, painful breaths.

“Alright, up we go then,” Deadpool said, reaching for the figure. Matt almost called out, almost told him not to touch it. He half expected Deadpool’s hands to fall right through. But contact was made, and Deadpool hefted what apparently looked like a young teenaged boy into his arms.

“Alright besties, you clear the way and I’ll cart the kid out of here,” Deadpool said, tone comically sweet.

Again, Matt wanted to protest. Now that they had the captive, the rescue seemed less urgent. He wanted to know just what was going on here, what the subject was, why he was being studied. He had a bad feeling, was all.

Matt held his tounge. Deadpool and Spiderman’s hearts were both racing, and they radiated fear and concern. Something was leaking from the boy, something that smelled like the power source of the agent’s weapons but somehow more organic. Matt’s bad feeling didn’t matter, not until something bad actually happened. He could come back later and collect the information he needed, especially since he’d be able to use actual stealth to do it (thank you, Wade, for barging in.)

They went out the same way they’d come in, mowing through agents much less brutally now that Deadpool’s hands were fully. The number of people working in this building was frankly ridiculous.

The agents were not shy about targeting Deadpool, seeming unconcerned about any harm that may come to their captive. As they passed, they shouted at them, telling them to “Drop the subject!” or “Give up the Ghost Kid!”

(Ghost Kid? No, he couldn’t be a ghost. That was ridiculous. That wasn’t what ghosts were like, it couldn’t be.)

(Oh sweet Mother Mary.)

Spiderman started webbing the agents’ mouths shut.

When they had nearly reached their goal of escape, the figure began to murmur and shift.

“Hey kiddo, you with us?” Deadpool asked.

“Who’re you?” was the slurred response.

“Just your friendly neighborhood mercenary!” Deadpool chirped. “And I’m getting you out of here.”

“We’re leaving?” croaked the boy.

“Yep! Me’n my buddies,” Deadpool moved his head, gesturing to Matt and Spiderman, “we’ll keep you safe. These creeps aren’t gonna touch you, never again.”

The being moved suddenly, lurching up in Wade’s grasp, maybe meeting his eyes or grabbing his arm?

“The research,” he gasped, “the containment devices, the weapons, you have to destroy them! What they’re trying to do, it’s-” he broke off, coughing weakly.

“Kid?” Deadpool asked.

“An entire dimension,” the boy answered weakly. “They want to destroy an entire dimension.”

The alarms were still blaring. The number of agents coming in from different parts of the building hadn’t slowed. As bad as that sounded, and as much as Matt wanted to get their research away from them and into more capable and ethical hands (Karen), they didn’t have time if they didn’t want to take huge risks.

“We’re leaving,” Matt said, the full gravel of the devil in his voice. “We’ll stop them, but not tonight.”

“Yeah buddy, don’t worry, we’re gonna take care of it,” Spiderman assured him.

“You don’t understand,” the boy said, distraught.

Their group had reached the first floor. Matt was bruised and exhausted, but none of the combatants were experts in hand to hand. They were going to make it out of this, mission complete, none the worse for wear. It could’ve gone a lot worse.

“I’ll do it myself.”

The figure in Deadpool’s arms suddenly, inexplicably, dropped. No struggle, no loosening of Deadpool’s grip. It was like he fell straight through them.

Despite his weakness, the boy slipped away when Wade reached out for him. Then he, if Matt’s senses weren’t playing tricks on him, started floating.

“Back up,” he said, “and cover your ears.”

Matt didn’t like to muffle his senses, but he wasn’t an idiot. When a being like that said to protect your hearing, you did it. He pressed his palms tight to his ears and moved away.

It wasn’t enough.

What came from the thing could barely be called a sound. The sensation was almost physical, air distorting worse than the concussive blast of an explosion. He directed it down, down, through every level of the building, and the floor pushed back in waves as it fought against its own destruction. Inevitably, it failed, and Matt hugged desperately against the wall, hoping he wouldn’t lose the very ground beneath his feet. He sincerely doubted any electronics could survive the onslaught, meaning that whatever records and weapons were being stored here would be just as gone as the boy had wanted.

Matt didn’t know how long the attack lasted, maybe just seconds, regardless of how long it felt in his pain. The ringing in his head didn’t stop with the onslaught, and he removed his hands cautiously, hoping he wasn’t bleeding. Matt rose from his crouch, and tried to figure out what to do next. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t hear anything over the ringing, could only stand there and wonder if a single step would send him plunging to his death, if the ringing was just too loud or if his hearing was gone for good (he could do it, he could, but please, God, he didn’t want to, didn’t want to adjust, to lose such a huge part of the world around him, please, not again.)

He startled when someone touched his arm. “-hear me?” they asked, and Matt realized it was Spiderman, because he could feel his heartbeat through his fingers, knew the resonance of his voice in his chest, and Matt resisted the urge to cling to him for some sense of normalcy, because yes, even though he couldn’t hear him, he knew the vibrations of his body and could still interpret them.

“There you are,” Spiderman said. “Just mouth stuff at me, my ears are shot after that. You good?”

Matt grunted, and was disturbed by the lack of feedback within his own skull. “Can’t hear a thing,” he reluctantly admitted, doing his best to turn towards where he figured Spiderman’s eyeline was. He paused, uncomfortable, but added, “A bit dizzy, too.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Spiderman immediately replied, getting a better grip on Matt’s arm and starting to pull him somewhere. It wasn’t easy guidance, like Foggy would offer, it was a firm lead, something Spiderman would use to pull civilians away from danger. Matt suffered the indignity, seeing as he could barely stand straight and had almost no idea where the holes in the floor were. “Man, that kid scared the shit out of me. I’m so glad I managed to catch him.”

Catch him? That made sense, maybe, if whatever power that had kept him suspended gave out after that display. Spiderman didn’t have the boy now, though, so he must’ve handed him off to Deadpool, or maybe he’d used his webs.

The air changed, and Matt figured they’d made it outside. He expected Spiderman to let go of him, and felt both relieved and embarrassed when he didn’t.

Air moved, the ground vibrated, and Matt could tell someone approached them. Spiderman didn’t react negatively, so likely it was Deadpool. The mercenary stood in front of them, speaking, but the breeze whisked the vibrations away and Matt couldn’t make out his voice.

“Don’t ask me,” Spiderman replied. “Hey, you paying attention Double D? What the heck do we do with an incredibly powerful, partially human, transforming kid who may also be bleeding out?”

Transforming? Bleeding out? Matt had thought the blood smell was just Deadpool. Without thinking, he reached forward, seeking more information. After a moment, he made contact, and felt relieved at the familiar heart and breaths. Thus oriented, he moved his hand down to the figure in Wade’s arms.

It was a normal human boy. No uncanny not-there-ness, no hum of energy and power, just a kid with blood pumping through his veins and dripping from a poorly treated would along his torso.

“I don’t know,” Matt said. “Hospital?”

“I am not just dropping him off at a hospital,” Deadpool said. “If that’s your plan, I’ll just take him back to my place and-”

“Hey, Daredevil, didn’t you say you couldn’t hear?” Spiderman interrupted.

Matt nodded absentmindedly. “Not a thing.”

“We’re wearing full face masks,” Spiderman pointed out. “How do you know what we’re saying?”

Deadpool gasped dramatically. “He IS psychic!”

Matt sighed heavily, wishing he could drop his head into his hands, but that would necessitate letting go of his friends. “Claire is going to hate me for this,” he lamented.

“Who’s Claire?” Spiderman asked.

“He didn’t deny it!” Deadpool crowed.

“I’ll explain on the way,” Matt said, ignoring the mercenary. “You’re going to have to guide me though, I’m practically useless right now.”

“Sure thing,” Spiderman said, not needing more than that, and Matt knew that there was a reason he liked him.

Their group, much worse for wear and plus a new member, headed off again into the night.

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 29

WC 2500, Masterpost

A Press of the Button:

An Exclusive Interview with Jason Wayne and Danny Nightingale Following the Infamous New Years Eve Choice

By Clark Kent

“I’m going to throw up.”

I’m sure that I wasn’t supposed to overhear that; it’s not exactly an auspicious start to an interview. Here inside of Wayne Manor’s stately halls the noise of the crowd of press outside of the gate has fallen away and the words from the other side of the door are clear. The voice isn’t one that I recognize, so I place it as the young man at the center of the event: Daniel Nightingale.

“Danny, please, I’ve never liked Daniel,” he’ll introduce himself to me once I’m inside the sitting room. Jason Todd is at his boyfriend’s side, looming like an avenging angel. Or, since we’re in Gotham, a very large bat.

When I was assigned the interview, I hadn’t been sure where it would be held. As readers may know, Jason Todd hasn’t lived at the Manor since his miraculous return from the dead. There were, as he said, too many memories in the Manor for him to return. At the time he had still been struggling to overcome the unfortunate amnesia that he had suffered during his brutal abduction as a teenager.

Whatever trauma is still lingering, it’s clear that both young men are taking comfort being in the manor. The proverbial wagons have been circled inside of the family home. Even cleaned up the sitting room shows signs of a rotation cast of family keeping the pair company: a plethora of blankets, stacked board games, feel-good food, and, of all things, a plush trilobite.

As we take our seats, Danny leans unconsciously into Jason’s space like a flower to the sun. His nerves are clear in the way that his fingers fidget restlessly with the edge of his sleeves. The red sweater is far too large for him and hangs off of one thin shoulder. I have to guess that it’s Jason’s sweater and worn today for comfort. I doubt anyone could blame Danny seeking comfort wherever he can find it.

Less than a week ago Danny was abducted from the Wayne’s New Years Eve party by a Gotham villain known as Two Face. The villain came into being after Harvey Dent, a district attorney in Gotham, was traumatically exposed to a toxic chemical. (More about Two Face can be read in the article ‘A Flip of a Coin’.) Danny had been taken off site while a handful of party goers were strapped to an explosive device.

Presented with the horrifying choice between his boyfriend or his father and youngest brother, Jason had pressed the red button connected to Danny’s trap.

Danny Nightingale had been electrocuted to death.

And survived.

It’s the perfect sort of awful story to capture the attention of the public and press alike, and it’s the reason that I’m at Wayne Manor now.

Hoping to make Danny feel more settled, I start off with some pleasantries before going in with a soft question. How is he doing with all the attention that the event has been getting? It must be overwhelming.

Danny glances towards the front of the house where outside lies the front yard, the protective gate, and the press. “It is. I feel like I’m still getting used to living in a city as big as Gotham, so all of this suddenly… yeah, it’s a lot.”

Danny grew up in a much smaller city in central Illinois called Amity Park. He moved to Gotham in the late summer of last year to continue his education at Gotham University. It’s a change that he describes as good, even as overwhelming as it is.

“Gotham has been surprisingly easy to fall in love with. I can see why Gothamites are so protective of the city,” Danny explains with the first hint of a smile on his face that I’ve seen since I came through the doors.

When I ask him if he hopes to stay in Gotham long term, Danny glances at Jason and blushes faintly. “I’d like to, if I can find work. There’s a lot here worth staying for and the city is just part of that.”

The words cause the first blush I’ve seen on Jason’s cheeks since he was new to the Wayne family and a little overwhelmed himself. Clearly Jason is one of the things worth staying for.

We talk a little about how Danny likes the Wayne family. He admits that he’s still getting to know them. He’d only been introduced to most of the family at the end of last year, right before finals. Already, though, there are stories to be told about board games and good food. Beyond the Waynes, Danny has someone else very important in Gotham.

“Your sister is in town, isn’t she?” I ask. “I imagine having her here during this has been nice.”

“It is. I was actually supposed to go and see her after New Years, but obviously…” Danny clears his throat and Jason takes one of Danny’s hands in his. Danny instantly relaxes into Jason’s side. “But yeah, having her here is really nice.”

“I take it you two are close then?”

“She was my anchor growing up,” Danny says with a little smile that’s tinged with sadness. “I wish she hadn’t had to be. Now that I’m older I know how unfair that was to her, but I’m so lucky that she did. She could so easily resent me for it, but she doesn’t at all. It makes it really easy to love her.”

“Not that it’s hard,” Jason adds with a chuckle. “I think her and Dick have already made an oldest sibling club and Damian thinks both Nightingales hung the moon, I swear.”

“Speaking of Nightingale, that isn’t your original last name, is it?”

It’s been an item of note in the recent write ups on Danny that both of the siblings had changed their last name to Nightingale from their birth name of Fenton. Their parents, doctors both, still go by Fenton. In Gotham, at least, the Doctor Fentons would be described as mad scientists. The so-called ‘ectobiologists’ have made their life a study of ghosts. In Amity Park, ‘the most haunted town in America’, they’re just part of the atmosphere.

Danny sighs and glances away. “No. Jazz and I both changed our last names when we turned eighteen. Jazz had wanted me to change it and go with her when she turned eighteen, but she had this great scholarship for college and she’d taken care of me enough. I couldn’t put that on her too, so I refused to until I was eighteen.”

“So you didn’t actually emancipate yourself?”

“Nope. One day late for that. But I moved out the same day I changed my name.”

“How did your parents take that?”

A wry smile twists Danny’s lips. “They didn’t notice until months later when the lab had gotten too dirty.”

“The lab?”

“It was one of my chores to clean it; another thing that I get was messed up now that I’m older and away from there. We, um, think that it was my exposure to all those chemicals that made me a meta.”

By all accounts, Danny’s meta status is how he survived the electrocution. It’s a label that he looks slightly uncomfortable with.

“It’s not that I mind being a meta,” he’s quick to assure me. “It’s just that… what actually made me one was an accident in the lab. I was electrocuted.” He raises his left arm up. The overly large red sleeve pools down to reveal a branching network of faint silver scars tracing his skin. “It’s hard right now to think back to it, after what happened. I really didn’t know if I would survive… either time. I’m lucky that all I have are scars.”

“But you thought that you might survive.”

“I did,” Danny says with a little shrug. He seems almost at ease with that question, unlike Jason.

Jason has to take a moment to press a kiss to Danny’s temple.

“After the first time I was electrocuted,” Danny explains, “I became a little more resistant to electricity— little shocks and things. It’s not like I ever tested it out with anything big. I guess it was just a feeling I had.”

When I ask Danny if he’s alright to talk about the night of the party he looks stressed by the idea but still gives a little nod. As he points out, it is why I’m there.

“I was getting some fresh air,” Danny explains. He’s picking at the sweater again. “The night was really lovely, but it’s just not the sort of thing I’m used to, you know? So I just wanted a moment to gather myself. I guess… I guess they were already watching me, because they knocked me out before I even really knew they were there.

“I woke up strapped to a metal chair. They’d taken my shoes and socks off. I couldn't understand why, but then,” Danny has to pause here and take a moment. Jason pulls him closer. “Then I noticed that my feet were in water and there was a wire in the water too. The wire wasn’t live but it’s… I mean it wasn’t hard to put it all together.”

“That must have been terrifying.”

“Yeah.” Danny looks over at the windows and the gray winter day beyond them. “I didn’t know who had taken me or why. I could hear some people close, talking about waiting for a signal, but it wasn’t much. When my eyes adjusted I could see a camera on a tripod and a laptop. I didn’t know what was going on, not until it turned on.

“Two Face was on it. I guess you know I’m not a native Gothamite that it took me a moment to recognize him,” Danny said with a weak laugh. “He explained what he was doing.”

I ask Danny what his first thought was when hearing the plan.

“Worry for Jason. Which I know sounds insane, but I guess… I guess I had already accepted the circumstance I was in. I just didn’t want Jason to have to go through that choice.”

“And then Jason was on the screen.”

“Yeah.”

“Jason, what were you feeling at seeing Danny on the television?”

“What do you think?” Jason asks, frustration lacing through his voice. “I was pissed off. I was scared. I was… I hated myself.”

“Why?”

“Because Danny was only in that situation because he was dating a Wayne. Because he was dating me. And there he was, a few seconds from death, bleeding, and… and telling me that he loved me.”

While Danny sounds almost detached talking about it, possibly a coping mechanism, Jason sounds like every wound is still fresh. It paints a terrifying picture of what it’s like to be the one to die versus the one who presses the button.

I turn back to Danny. “You said something to Jason in the video after that. There's been a great deal of debate about your words. Do you feel alright discussing them.”

Danny nods. I read out the quote: You know what you have to do, don’t you?

“Danny, what did you mean?”

“That Jason had to press my button,” Danny says with surprising ease. It’s clear that the order was one that he still stands by.

I ask about that certainty.

Danny gives a little shrug. He tucks himself back further under Jason’s arm, but I'm certain that the move is more for Jason’s comfort. “It was me or a group of other people. That would have been enough. I would never put myself first like that, but then you add in Damian and Bruce being part of that group? I couldn’t ask Jason to choose me over his family and Jason knows I wouldn’t.”

What about the chance of survival?

“Jason and I had talked about my accident before. Death… it’s something we both get, you know? So we both knew that there could be a chance of me surviving, but there was never any guarantee.”

“Are you going on record that you told Jason to press the button, knowing it could kill you?”

“Absolutely.”

And how did that insistence make Jason feel? Right then it seems all Jason can do is curl up around Danny, as if he can shield him from the past.

“Fucking horrible. Danny just looked at the whole situation and made the choice for me. I don’t know, maybe I should think that was freeing, but I still had to press the button.”

I point out that he could have made the other choice and he just shakes his head. “And make Danny live with that? He had made his choice. He didn’t want to trade his life for theirs. I hated it, but what sort of person would I have been if I didn’t let Danny take control of his own life? I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with either choice, so at least… at least I could listen to Danny.”

So Jason had pressed the button, Danny had been electrocuted (he refused to speak on the experience), and Jason had attacked Two Face. The man had ended up with a broken jaw and fractures in the orbital rim. It was while Jason had been sobbing in his father’s arms that they had gotten the word from one of Gotham’s local heroes: Danny was still alive.

“What did I feel? Hope,” Jason said with an almost despairing laugh. “I don’t… hope and I don't do well these days, but I felt hope. I don’t know if I believed it until I was actually holding his hands.”

“I was a little out of it when they got there,” Danny admits, which seems more than fair considering everyone else would have been dead. “But I’m so grateful to Nightwing and the paramedics taking care of me and letting me see Jason before the hospital. I really… I really needed him right then.”

And now?

“I’d like to say that I’m alright, but,” Danny shrugs, “it’s a lot to go through. But I know I’ll be alright. Jason and his family are amazing and I have Jazz here. I’ll keep healing, physically and mentally, and so will Jason. I know the internet has a lot to say about it all, but I think they need to understand that this turned out the best way that it could have.”

Jason kisses Danny’s temple again with a slight smile. He seems to be in agreement with everything his boyfriend said.

“I suppose I have just one more question,” I say after a moment of looking over my notes. “Why do you call Danny ‘fish’?”

I don’t get an answer, but maybe hearing those two able to laugh so soon after such a traumatic event is better than a story.

---

AN: *flops dramatically* darlings, this chapter is finally done! Thank you to @chromatographic and @mokulule for cheer/beta reading for me. This one was really hard to write since it's out of the normal style wise for me, but it felt like the best way to tell the story right there.

I hope you enjoy it!

I no longer tag, you can subscribe at the masterpost!