#Next chapter not quiiiiite ready

[britcision]

Gonna try and sneakily post after dnd let’s see how fast I can yeet this up 👀 new chapter!!

(I was kinda considering pushing out the porn parody to push me over one million words on AO3, but I have to be in the mood to write good smut, whereas I’m damn near always in the mood for crack, so here we are

The porn parody has been started though, and the first chapter is edging its way to completion. I will be starting an entirely new taglist for the porn parody though, so do say in the comments here if you would like to be tagged in the first chapter of that!)

I got to use a little of my actual real life work knowledge for once in my life, instead of my unending stash of random knowledge 👀 it’s a bold new world and I bet you ANYTHING Bruce never documents his code

Eleven million backup plans for if marshmallows take over the world, but someone else sits to debug the batcomputer? Zip. Nothing. Fuck them if they can’t read Bruce they aren’t authorised to touch it

As may be rather obvious… We’re right up in the bats again this chapter, and Bruce is going to make some Inadvisable Decisions 😈

I’m sure this will have absolutely no consequences whatsoever! This chapter also came in a little short, since there’s not quiiiiite enough space left to squeeze in our next scene, Danny Attempts To Make Jason Kill Him In A Motorcycle Accident

This means we should not brick ANYONES’ tumblr! (Like that’ll happen, my poor mobile using fellows)

Note: there is a reason why I’m choosing when to use our various vigi’s human names while they’re masked, I didn’t miss one on the “edit” that is formatting this mess for Tumblr 😁

First Chapter and AO3 link:

Previous Chapter:

——————

One Fine Day In The Middle Of The Night

About twenty minutes after dropping Danny off at his dorm, Jason was suited up and ready to go.

Well, he’d stayed outside until he’d seen Danny shut the door behind him first. Jason had some fucking manners, though if pressed he couldn’t name who’d taught him them.

It was a habit older than the streets, watching to be sure his friends got to safety.

Danny’s dorm was about fifteen minutes from one of Jason’s better safe houses, as it happened. Jason had never been to a dorm, but from Danny’s stories?

A step below Teen Titans’ bunks, and those had sucked. Less privacy, smaller rooms, and more people? Who weren’t even part of the same team?

Maybe next semester Jason could offer to let Danny move in. He didn’t need need the safe house.

Red Hood could always buy the building. There were other apartments and while they weren’t luxurious, they beat half his other spots. The neighbourhood wasn’t bad either.

It’d be nice to pay Danny back a bit. Not have him closer. Just. Repay some of the debt by giving him a place to stay, rent free.

And maybe, just a little bit, the part of Jason that enjoyed the romanticism of his period novels kinda liked the idea. An estate for the king on your lands was a big deal back then.

A slightly more modern part of him thought being a landlord for his ruler would also be pretty funny. He figured Danny would enjoy that side too.

And it wasn’t like the guy could complain, since he’d literally given Jason back himself. Yeah, Jason was gonna pull that one out if Danny tried any familiar “oh I can’t accept this” on him.

Fixing his core was pretty damn god level on the favours spectrum. Jason could do whatever the hell he liked and Danny would just have to deal with it.

It cheered him up a little more, kept him in a good mood on the ride back to his safe house. It was more time where he couldn’t help Cass, but seriously?

Danny could change in a matter of seconds and be at her side not much slower. Walls, cars, goons, Jason had this feeling that none of it would slow Danny down.

And yeah, knowing that helped, but there was still a piece of him that only unknotted as he slid his helmet on and headed to the window.

“Hey, Black Bat. Busy?” He asked as the comms switched from earpiece to helmet display.

Of course he wore both. People kept trying to steal his damn helmet. That was also what the internal explosives were for.

The others all piped up when they heard him, Harper and Steph calling cheerful greetings around an ongoing conversation.

“Shit, Hood’s in, this mean I can go back to bed?” Bluebird teased. Spoiler cut her off immediately.

“Hell no, it can’t be a school night, Robin’s here! Great timing though Hood, we’re planning Red Robin’s eulogy and you have some experience there,” Spoiler chirped brightly, and Jason hesitated.

Sucked in a breath. He wasn’t gonna judge anyone else’s coping mechanisms until they got past “heads in a bag” levels.

Best to ignore it, since she wasn’t actually trying to set him off.

What the hell had Tim done since they’d left the manor?

Shaking his head, Jason settled into Red Hood and hopped onto the fire escape, scaling easily to the roof.

“Black Bat?” He repeated instead of answering, and half smiled when Spoiler groaned dramatically.

Black Bat answered in the considerate group pause.

“Not busy. Why?” She sounded amused, not even particularly tired, and Jason relaxed enough to slip all the way in.

“Thinking of going a little out of my way tonight. Wondered if you’d mind a tagalong?” Red Hood asked, hoping he sounded casual.

It wasn’t like he’d been planning to patrol the Alley anyway; his guys had already been told to handle it. He’d have to run around tomorrow night to keep the creepers scared, but he could have a couple off.

The tiny pause before her answer didn’t quite feel like judgement, but Jason muted before blowing out the sigh as she did. It wasn’t like the others needed to know he’d been stressing.

“Sure. Meet at library?” She’d had his tracker up. Hood nodded, turning and running for the edge of the roof.

“Sounds good.” And they’d probably wound Spoiler up enough, she’d start plotting vengeance for being ignored soon. “So what the hell did Little Red do?”

“Brought Too Fine to the Bat Cave,” Spoiler told him with relish, not noticeably put out by the delay.

Not necessarily a good sign, since she was also this enthusiastic while actively plotting against him.

Wait.

Too Fine was Tucker’s hacker name.

“But he doesn’t know about us,” Red Hood said with a frown, catching an outcropping and swinging on.

“Oh, now you tell me,” Tim groused while the others snickered, “what a shame you didn’t think to when it’d have actually been helpful!”

News to Hood that he was on, probably still in the cave.

“He knows now,” Nightwing chimed in brightly, probably also travelling from the slight strain in his voice.

Hood paused for a moment, letting that sink in before attempting the next jump.

“Is he on comm?” He asked warily, because if Tim brought Tucker to the bat cave, it was entirely possible that they were all outed.

And that Tucker might tell Danny he was Red Hood.

Shit, he still had to text Harley. Resolving to do it once he hit the library, he set back to running, throwing himself across another street.

Black Bat would probably take a little longer to get there.

“He’ll be back, he’s in the bathroom,” Tim explained with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “It’s not all bad, he’s given me the full story on what happened in Amity Park. Witness account and all.”

“From a witness you let down to the bat cave~” Spoiler sang sweetly across the air.

Red Hood could hear Oracle rolling her eyes as she cut in.

“Tone it down, Batgirl. Bluebird, if you’re still thinking of heading in, could you swing past one last site on your way?” She said firmly, then lightening her tone for their current guest.

“Batgirl who? I’m Spoiler,” Spoiler grumbled, but didn’t push beyond that. None of them did when Oracle invoked the name she’d had before any of them masked up.

Bluebird snickered at her before answering the question, a hint of exertion suggesting she was on the move too.

“I’m not actually in a rush to go home, O, I got all dressed up so I might as well enjoy one last hurrah.”

Right, because she’d be going back to school probably when Danny did.

Harper had always been a damn good hero in Jason’s books, but she valued her retirement and none of them really wanted to ruin it. Unless, apparently, seven bats just had to stalk Jason’s new friends.

Hood would have apologized, but frankly if she’d said no, some of the others couldn’t have come to the gala to be a pain in his ass.

And then he couldn’t have had so much fun fucking with them.

Fine. One cool fruit basket for the Row household, and some rainbow cupcakes for Cullen. He needed practice on frosting roses anyway.

Although that also reminded him.

“Hey Bluebird, have the others filled you in on Phantom?” He asked, cutting off some more background chatter from Spoiler and Tim.

Nightwing and the girls had had hours by now.

“What, your new boyfriend?” Bluebird asked sweetly, and Hood rolled his eyes.

Probably hit the important shit then.

“Sent you a picture?” He asked instead, decidedly not entertaining that question.

Nightwing and Spoiler snickered. Hood flipped off their general directions, settling himself comfortably on the roof of the library to wait for Black Bat.

There was a short pause, the others now wondering what he was getting at. Good.

“In and out of suit,” Bluebird agreed, curiosity tinging with mild suspicion. Being out of retirement clearly wasn’t good for her.

Hood nodded, pulling out his phone and shooting Harley a quick text. It might be moot now, asking her not to mention Red Hood shit in front of Danny, but he might as well.

He still had to ask if Waylon knew. Might as well ask. And see if Tucker knew when he got back.

“I know you’re outta the game, but keep the light show to a minimum if you see him around, okay?” He asked, scanning quickly over the list Danny’d cleared for public discussion.

He didn’t know if Tucker would have mentioned it, but he might as well. Cause of death was good, but Jason personally would veto “and the effects it may have now”.

Because fuck Bruce and his need for everyone to show him their weaknesses.

Bluebird definitely sounded curious now, and possibly like she was punching someone.

“Oh? He not big on the electricity?” She wondered aloud, and Hood grimaced.

Because if they were both at Gotham U in engineering… there was actually a chance Harper and Danny would run into each other.

Danny was older, but Harper skipped a couple years and he had no idea what year Danny was in. Fuck, they might be in the same classes. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought of that.

“Not exactly. You mighta seen him around actually, he’s an engineer too. But he’s not a fan of the electricity flying around,” he explained, Nightwing making background noises that told Hood he hadn’t put the pieces together either.

Good. At least he wasn’t alone.

Bluebird made an interested hum, and probably a finishing blow considering the satisfaction when she spoke next.

“I thought he looked familiar. But then, he’s total Wayne-bait. Yeah, I can keep the good stuff under wraps if I see him around. Gonna guess he’s had some bad shocks in the line of work?”

Hood hesitated and in exactly the same instant Black Bat landed on the roof. Sam had given them all the warning about talking about a ghost’s death, so he could leave it at that.

But…

The way Danny had looked when he explained about Vlad. Yeah, he’d rather they took this seriously. He didn’t want any of his family to hurt Danny, even by accident.

“It’s how he died. He won’t spontaneously combust or anything, but it’s a bad memory.”

Silence reigned while the others absorbed that particular detail, Black Bat crossing to crouch on the roof beside him. Hood leaned over enough to bump their shoulders together.

He could almost feel concern radiating off her, which was an extra weird experience after literally feeling all of Danny’s emotions half the day.

Guess that was where Cass’s liminality was going. It made sense, kind of; despite her occasional trouble speaking, she was pretty much the clearest communicator in the family.

Having another back up way to make herself heard would only fit.

On a whim, he tried projecting comfort back to her. Black Bat didn’t seem to notice, though whether that meant more on her part or his was the question.

She leaned in and bumped him back, her expression unreadable between the full face mask and the shadows.

“Heard and understood, Hood,” Bluebird agreed after a minute, her tone unusually solemn. Hopefully Dickie would take it to heart too.

The odds of Danny running into Nightwing weren’t great if he stuck to Blüdhaven, but Dick was a nosy bastard and there was always one “emergency” or another.

Better than the odds of running into Bluebird, although Harper would almost definitely look him up at school.

Maybe Jason should warn him.

“Maybe you could build him a faraday suit,” Spoiler mused, and Red Hood snickered.

“Handy, but then we couldn’t contact him,” he reminded her and she groaned loudly.

“Hey, if we’re both techies he’ll probably have his own idea. I’ll look him up out of costume, it’s my turn to say hi,” Bluebird decided, and Hood shot Danny a quick text.

Just a heads up.

A picture of Harper, captioned “beware of sibling. May be looking you up in class”. Black Bat giggled beside him, head cocked to watch the screen.

Harper wasn’t technically one of the Waynes, but if Waylon counted she definitely had to, and it wasn’t like Bruce picked his family. Asshole.

A few minutes later he got a message back from Danny.

‘DannyP: !!!!! I know her! 😳😳🤯 She does the cool nanobots! Half our year is betting if she’s a rogue or a vigi 👀 inside info??’

Which was fair, since just knowing Jason wouldn’t be much of a hint either way.

“He knows you,” Black Bat reported to the others, Bluebird immediately bitching that she’d been ratted out.

Red Hood mostly ignored her, texting Danny back.

‘JTodd: Neither anymore. She was a vigi, but she’s retired and getting her degree. No idea if she’ll come back after.’

“Odds you’ll change sides and go rogue, Bluebird?” He asked into a pause, and very much enjoyed the momentary stumped silence. “Apparently there’s a hefty bet.”

Momentary, because everyone had an opinion on that and had to share it. Everyone except Bluebird herself, who seemed to be thinking it over.

“What’re the odds for rogue?” She asked thoughtfully, immediately defending herself as the group booed. “What! I have student loans!”

“You are my villain arc, Red Hood,” Spoiler declared as solemnly as she could through laughter.

“I’m my own villain arc thank you so much, go find your own,” he refuted with a half grin.

“Ask Phantom,” Black Bat advised Bluebird in the meantime, which was probably fair. They weren’t good at staying on topic.

She then gave Hood another gentle nudge, probably for the same reason. Flicked off her comm for a moment.

“Wanted to talk?” She asked, and yeah, they probably should get back to it.

He gave a shrug, hauling himself up and holding a hand back down to her. Definitely not feeling guilty.

They’d tell her before anything became relevant. It just.

Well.

They were a family of fucking detectives, who could never leave well enough alone, and Jason really didn’t want them questioning his humanity.

Just once, he’d like to know something about himself before anyone else did. To have time to understand and come to terms with what he was before Twenty Questions.

Cass was very good at not asking questions though. And Black Bat turned off her comm first. Tim was distracted, probably with Tucker coming back because he’d been quiet.

No better opportunity was likely to come up.

And really, she deserved the same courtesy. Knowing about herself before the others did.

Maybe she’d have some ideas on how to tell them.

Making up his mind, Hood tapped his comms and hauled Black Bat up with his other hand.

“Hey O, gonna be offline for a minute. Text if you need me or BB, we gotta be radio silent.” There were enough possible reasons for that, he didn’t bother giving one.

Just so long as they knew.

Usually he’d just turn the comm off and swear at her if she turned him back on if he wanted peace and quiet, but… well, it was nice to hear the background chatter.

Nicer when the big Bat himself wasn’t in the field to tell them to focus.

“I always need you, baby!” Nightwing called just before he clicked off, and Red Hood rolled his eyes under the helmet.

Dramatic bitch.

He looked back to Black Bat, wondering where would be the best place for this talk. She was watching him patiently, not moving.

It had been her patrol.

“Is there anywhere on your route we can talk privately?” He asked softly, a little surprised at himself. He’d been the one who wanted to wait.

But that just made it his call who he decided to tell what, and when. And Cass… he trusted Cass.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was liminal. It’d give them something to think until he was ready.

Black Bat regarded him for a moment longer, then nodded and made her way to the edge of the roof.

“Follow.”

**

The night was wearing on, but Bruce was darkly satisfied that they were finally making progress.

Constantine’s pacing (replacing his smoking; Bruce may not have bothered arguing in the cave, but even Constantine knew better than to light a cigarette in space) had finally slowed.

Something terrible had happened in Amity Park, but even the magician was grudgingly admitting it was probably over. Left permanent scars, but getting no worse.

Unless it was on a cosmic level and would be a slow seeping problem for millennia, but Alfred had Opinions about Bruce concerning himself with issues on that time scale.

There was only so much they could do in the moment.

Another survey of the city was required, and in person since even the League’s best couldn’t take clear pictures of Amity Park.

A fact which didn’t seem to have stopped the Amity Parkers from photographing and sharing pictures of each other, according to his children. Constantine hadn’t actually argued when Bruce compared it to background radiation, so it must be close enough.

He also hadn’t done more than grimace when Bruce asked if he wanted to undertake the survey personally. That was as good as an enthusiastic agreement.

First, though? First they needed to call a meeting of the Justice League, primarily the heroes located in North America.

They had been horribly uninformed of what was going on right under their noses, and if Constantine was right… Amity Park’s problems had begun to spread.

To Gotham.

To his children.

Constantine’s grumbling that it was the miasma of death that hung over the city drawing them in had not inspired confidence, and Bruce resolved to have Zatanna over at her soonest convenience to explain.

Helping Constantine put together a report on Amity Park itself had more than convinced Bruce not to ask Constantine, even if he could have done it today. The man was…

Well. Bruce wasn’t looking forward to having to run him through the JL’s classification system again. Maybe one of his children would want to go and handle the technical side.

All he had to do was finish preparing the presentation, call the League, and he could rest. It would likely take a day or two to put a full meeting together, but he could at least fill Clark and Diana in tonight.

He could sleep in between. Just for a little while.

Right after he showed Constantine how to configure the alerts from Amity Park to direct to the Justice League Dark, not the spam folder. They hadn’t sent one in years, but he was determined not to miss any changes.

That should have been the easiest part of this whole mess. It was just a simple form, with a basic test button to ensure it worked.

Nothing too complicated even for a man who’d decided “no reply needed” meant the same thing as “too dangerous for anyone but JL Dark”.

Fine. It was fine.

Bruce loved making training videos to highlight the most basic functions of a system and ensure that people actually understood what the various controls meant. Wonderful.

It meant that they could work in parallel for a while, Bruce on the presentation for the League, Constantine to fix his mistake. In a blissful silence, even.

It couldn’t last.

“It’s not working, Bats,” the magician declared, pushing back and away from his computer. Probably to pace again.

Bruce closed his eyes, breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, and made his way across to frown at the monitor.

“Did you save your changes?” He growled, doing his best not to let the irritation show. It was getting harder every time.

Constantine rolled his eyes, definitely not helping, and pointed at the screen.

“See for yerself. Look, JLD Top Priority, like ya said. And then ya hit the top button to save, and the red button to test it, and nothing happens.”

He waited impatiently while Bruce clicked through the buttons, seeing it for himself.

Constantine wasn’t wrong. That was unexpected.

Brows furrowing under his cowl, Bruce checked the deleted requests. Three test messages from “Amity Park”.

“Hn.”

“Someone’s fucked ya system,” Constantine commented dryly, sounding unduly pleased that it wasn’t his fault.

Something other than his haphazard filing had apparently been causing some of their problems. Bruce… just didn’t have the time tonight.

He nodded over to his screen instead, pulling up his wrist computer to send a private message to Tim in the cave. How long could a tour take?

Tim could find what was going wrong long before he’d have the time.

“I’ve compiled most of the presentation on creatures of the Realms. Is there anything important I should add?” He asked gruffly and Constantine sighed dramatically and flounced over.

Bruce firmly ignored Steph’s voice in his ear.

Not because he didn’t agree, whatever a “woobie” was.

He just needed Constantine’s once over to confirm he had all the pertinent information, and then he could call Clark and Diana.

Head home.

Get to bed.

“Looks fine. I should check yer damn revenant some time soon too though.”

Bruce froze, finger just above the send button on that tech request to Tim.

His fucking what.

**

Black Bat led them easily across the city, along what was probably her normal patrol route. Taking her cue from Red Hood, she didn’t rush, but soon indicated that they turn off into a small alley between two warehouses.

Hell, not even a proper alley. A gap where the buildings hadn’t quite smushed together.

Red Hood recognized the area from Nightwing’s bitching; there’d been a bust here last week, and something had cloaked the whole block from surveillance.

These days, he was almost tempted to check what Danny knew about it. Ghosts fucked with technology in ways none of the bats would find.

Black Bat stopped them half way down the gap, feet braced against one wall and her back to the other, leaving her “sitting” about twenty feet off the ground.

Hood matched her a little further down, grumbling a little at the crush. Almost a foot taller, it wasn’t exactly a comfortable position for him, but he’d held worse.

They were stable, and damn near impossible to observe. This was as good as they’d get.

“So,” he began, and immediately realized he had no fucking clue what to say.

Black Bat’s flat, expressionless mask was not helpful.

Hood wished he could pull his helmet off, just to run his hands through his hair. But they were on patrol.

Black Bat just waited, silent and patient while he wrestled with himself. Finally he decided to just spit it out.

“Danny died, and came back,” he said in a rush, glancing over to her.

Black Bat nodded.

“Like you.”

“Like us,” Hood corrected, groaned, and switched off the voice modulator. Actually, fuck it, he had his domino on.

He pulled the helmet off, balancing it in his lap. He could shove it back on if it came time to go.

Black Bat was beside him now, almost close enough to touch. Close enough to lean in and bump their shoulders together.

“One main difference,” she noted thoughtfully, then tapped her chest, “no skin change.”

Which, yeah, Jason had been hoping to emphasize before any of the family got too far down the right track.

“Right,” he agreed, leaning back to stare blankly into the smog of Gotham above them.

Fuck. How do you even say it? How do you tell someone they’re not fully human anymore?

Someone like Cass, who’d been raised to believe she’d never been human, by force. Just a weapon.

Her hand was in his now, and he couldn’t be sure if he’d reached out or she had. He stared down at their laced fingers instead.

“You know how people get when they spend too long around the pit water,” he began slowly, trying a different path.

Cass had been raised around the League of Assassins. She knew.

And took the change of topic fully in stride, nodding and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Erratic,” she mused softly, her face tilted to the wall across, “unpredictable, especially if they went in.”

No one was going to say Ra’s Al Ghul was an unstable mess of a man, but no one had to. Still, how controlled he was was impressive, especially after you saw what mere exposure to the fumes did to other people.

Red Hood nodded, sighing softly.

“Danny’s parents kept it in the fridge. He was… exposed long before he died,” he explained quietly.

If he was talking about himself, he’d say “contaminated”. Hell, it was the word Danny used when explaining it to the bats.

Jason just couldn’t use it about Danny. It just wasn’t right.

Black Bat stilled, almost enough to be mistaken for a statue instead of a living being. Was that her liminality too? Or just her training?

Red Hood couldn’t stand it either way, giving her hand a gentle tug.

“He told me… being around it too long can change a person, even if they never get dunked,” he said slowly, trailing off again.

“We got dunked,” Black Bat said quietly, her hand curling more tightly around his. There was no hint of emotion in her voice, and Jason hated it.

Pulled her closer, doing all he could to project comfort-sorry-concerned-love you. Wishing he’d asked Danny to teach him to do that first.

Neither of them had really considered he’d need it, since Danny was so good at reading him. But he needed her to know she wasn’t alone.

Her shoulders hunched suddenly, body tensed to spring until her head snapped round to focus on him.

He could… he could feel surprise from her. Maybe it was working.

He gave a graceless half shrug, grinding his shoulders against filthy bricks.

Tried to project yeah it’s weird for me too, but wasn’t sure how well it came across. Anything beyond pure feelings was a little tricky for him to push, though he could usually work out what Danny was saying.

“We got dunked,” he agreed quietly, resolving instead to wrap her in love-protect-safe-safe-safe, “and sometimes… that changes you even without a flashy transformation.”

It was an awful explanation and he knew it, could practically feel her eyes darting all over his face, his posture, reading things he probably wasn’t aware he was showing.

Then she relaxed all at once, settling in and leaning part of her weight on him as well as the wall. He braced automatically to take it. He wouldn’t let her fall.

“He called it being “liminal”,” he explained softly, working an arm around her shoulders above the wall to coax more of her weight onto him. “I don’t know what it means for you yet, BB. But nothing bad. He was sure it wouldn’t be bad.”

Black Bat made a soft humming sound, obediently shuffling so he could wrap his arm around her. Looking down at their still twined hands.

“Can feel you,” she said softly, hand rising to tap gently against the red bat on his chest. “Big brother.”

It startled a bark of laughter out of him, because… well, yeah. A good way to sum up everything he’d wanted to tell her without words.

Felt a quick rush of satisfaction from Black Bat, and tried to answer it with relief-agree-protect.

“Yeah, that’s the fuckin’ weirdest part,” he agreed dryly, almost felt the rush of her giggle more than he heard it. “Apparently some liminals get this… aura around them. Sharing what they feel. I didn’t know if you would…”

What? If she’d notice? If she’d be able to feel the same things?

Black Bat nodded, head tipping up to meet his gaze once again.

“Robin? Batman?” She asked, and Jason hesitated.

He couldn’t talk to either of them about it. Not yet. Bruce would fucking push, he always did, and wouldn’t stop until he tore the secrets out of him. Damian would just run to Bruce.

But it was a valid question. And they did sort of deserve to know just as much.

For now he took refuge in what he knew, shrugging it off.

“Danny thinks they’re liminal, but… not as far along as we are.”

Not as close to death. Not as close to not being human, although technically they were both legally non-sentient, so that was fun.

“D’you really think either of them have the emotional bandwidth to share?” He tried to joke, covering the moment.

Black Bat just stared at him until he fell silent. Then nodded.

“Should tell them. No rush,” she added almost before Jason could tense, leaning back in and resting her head on his shoulder, “have been for a while, yes?”

Jason paused a moment longer, shook his head, and snickered.

“Cannot believe I ever doubted you’d be able to do the whole “emotional telepathy” thing,” he grumbled good naturedly, and Black Bat glowed with gentle amused.

“Better than you,” she told him archly, sounding for a moment like Steph when she was teasing Tim. Jason gave her a squeeze.

“Don’t I know it. But yeah, it’s not a new thing, and won’t mean anything to anyone unless one of us dies again.” Which he wasn’t going to think about.

Shit, someone said Robin was out tonight.

Nope. Not thinking about it. Robin had been patrolling for years, and as much as he whined about his solo patrol route, he never deviated.

Not after Oracle had highlighted his route on his wrist computer for him and proved she could see every footstep. She wouldn’t necessarily tell Bruce, but she’d always know.

Black Bat nodded, resting against him for a moment longer before sitting up again.

“You want to wait.” It wasn’t a question, but he felt compelled to answer.

Picked up his helmet, turning it over slowly in his hands. But of course she’d understand. She always did.

“I want to know what this means to me before I have B poking and prying into every part of my life,” he said quietly, staring into the eye slits of the helmet.

Black Bat ruffled his hair.

“Can wait,” she agreed gently, switching her position to have a hand and foot on either wall. Ready to move on. “No rush.”

Red Hood pulled his helmet back on and matched her, the pair climbing quickly out of the crack between the warehouses. It almost wasn’t worth saying, but…

“You can tell the others if they ask. I just…”

“Don’t want questions,” Black Bat agreed lightly, flipping up onto the roof. “Can ask Danny when the time comes.”

“Yeah,” Red Hood agreed, crouching beside her. “Mind if I stick with you on patrol tonight?”

He sort of hoped she’d think it was unrelated, but another moment of stillness passed across her as she regarded him.

“Until we die again,” she repeated his own words, and Hood was pretty happy she couldn’t see his face anymore as he grimaced.

Not that it mattered, another shot of amused shooting between them, followed by a much softer appreciated.

At least she wasn’t judging him for being a mother hen.

“Understand.”

**

Tim and Tucker had made quick work of the interview, and Tim was pretty much running out of questions when the batcomputer pinged with an incoming message.

Tucker gave it a longing look and Tim chuckled softly, wheeling himself over.

“Hang on. Might be one of the others out on patrol,” he explained, right clicking to pull up the monitor that tracked the bats’ various dominos out and about.

Tucker stared up at it politely, diverting his attention from what Tim was doing on the other screen, no matter how curious he was. Showing trust and all that.

It was actually really cool too; he’d not really seen a map of Gotham, and having one superimposed with little glowing lights of the various heroes on patrol was really cool.

It wasn’t really zoomed in enough to tell if Bluebird was actually in a fight, but the little blue dot seemed to be the only one standing still, so Tucker assumed she was.

How cool would that be? Watching just normal human vigilantes fight and take down bad guys?

Although off the top of his head, he could already think of a couple of things to add to the monitoring program. They might already be there, he hadn’t clicked around, but like.

Vitals were all well and good, down in the corner next to each hero’s name and the colour of their dot, but just the heartbeats? That wouldn’t tell you enough.

Tucker preferred brainwaves, because then you could tell if they’d been hit with something or overshadowed.

Although maybe it was because he’d spent his time keeping track of a guy who pretty regularly did not have a heartbeat. And it also gave him more data points for some of his cooler side projects.

Understanding the different brainwave patterns an individual made in different situations was a key part of neural mapping, and adding it to the bat’s routine would get him a ton of data.

And then they could really play Mariokart.

He’d have to ask Tim if they tracked any of that later. Not all the bats wore helmets or cowls that would support the electrodes, apparently. Although if Danny could get his hands on a domino…

Tucker was snapped back to the here and now as Tim pushed back from the batcomputer, a wry grin on his lips.

“Actually, I think this might be something you could help with, Tucker. If you don’t mind a little work on your night off?” He teased, back to Tucker’s complaints about a night of fun and tech.

Like getting to play on the batcomputer did not absolutely count as fun and tech.

Tucker beamed, excitement welling up in him and cracking his knuckles. It’d be pretty cool to assist a human vigilante too. And on a tech problem!

Gotham was fucking great. If Tim really meant it about getting him an internship, Tucker might have to see about switching schools.

MIT was great, but it wasn’t Wayne Enterprises, personal meetings, or personal tech demonstrations with Tim Drake Wayne!

“Sure! What’s going on?” He asked, shuffling over to look at the other screens now that he had permission. Making sure it was obvious he hadn’t been looking.

Resisting temptation had been hard. He deserved credit.

Tim nodded to the screen, and that? That was a message from Batman. Bruce Wayne. Batman.

Tucker scanned the message, eyes widening even as Tim spoke.

“Wanna help debug the Watchtower?” Tim asked, and Tucker clutched at the back of his chair as his heart leapt, swooning just a little.

The Watchtower. The actual Watchtower. In space. Oh he was shoving that in Danny’s face for not telling him he was friends with the Bats!

There was only one real question left.

“Will Oracle be here?” He asked eagerly, looking around the rest of the screen.

A soft chuckle played from a speaker in the bottom corner, and Tucker jumped half a mile as a masked voice spoke.

“You boys have fun with this one, I’ll keep an eye on the city. If you finish early you could walk me through that server of yours?”

Oracle.

The Oracle.

They were real, they talked to him, they wanted to talk about his locked down servers! Tim lunged to catch him as Tucker collapsed, knees giving out under the swell of emotion.

All of his dreams were coming true, all at once.

He’d never been happier.

**

Danny was having a pretty quiet night in. That didn’t used to be unusual while he was in Gotham; having time to himself was still pretty much a novelty, and he wasn’t exactly a party boy.

Of course, it was a night in with some of his parents’ inventions and recently one or two of his own, so the actual “quiet” part was negotiable.

Quiet enough not to piss off his dorm mates, but luckily most of them were engineers too. They may not always know what he was doing, but they were usually interested.

Tonight, he was alone, most of the floor still being home for the holiday. That had been one of the things he’d looked forward to most about staying behind, but…

Well, after his noisy and action packed few days… he was lonely.

He wished he’d asked Jason to stay. Just because he’d said he was going to bed didn’t mean he had to do anything of the sort.

It was just that Jason had been… tense. He’d not even gotten off the bike when they arrived, just pulling over and chatting for a minute before heading out.

Like he wasn’t fully comfortable going into Danny’s place, which was kinda fair. Unlike Jason’s apartments, Danny’s dorm was a communal space.

Even if most of his dorm mates weren’t home, there was still a chance one of them might turn up. And then Danny would have someone else bugging him about his “boyfriend”.

Nope.

Besides, he’d see Jason again at 11am (he had this horrible feeling Jason might be a morning person), so it wasn’t even all that long. He should probably just go to bed.

He should check his class schedule, actually. Work out what days he’d have free, work out when he and Jason could skip to the Zone for fight club.

Wait.

Would Jason be free.

What the hell did Jason do for a living? He’d have to ask at some point, Danny mused, logging in and taking a screenshot of his class schedule for the new year.

For now, it was probably best just to send Jason the picture so he’d know when Danny was free, and then Jason could work out a good time for them to go and it wouldn’t be Danny’s problem.

Excellent. Sheer genius.

Humming happily to himself, Danny pulled up Jason’s number and sent the picture of his schedule, with the caption:

‘Let me know when ur free for field trips 👊🏻💥👻’

Eyes closing for a moment, Danny let his awareness drift out across the city. It wasn’t something he’d done a lot; Gotham wasn’t his haunt and he didn’t want to step on any toes.

Usually he’d just expand his conscious aura if he was looking for someone, but knowing how much Jason didn’t like it… well, his passive aura covered most of the state, so reaching through the same city couldn’t be all that hard.

Right?

Frostbite could find anyone, anywhere in the Far Frozen with little more than a thought. And was convinced Danny would be able to do that with the entire Zone, some day.

Danny was a little less convinced. Past the background awareness that he was no longer in Amity Park that had taken months to fade, he’d never really paid attention to his passive aura.

It’d be too tempting to feel out the rogues, or at least react to the sudden surges of aggression and danger. But he hadn’t had anyone to protect before, and he knew Jason would feel better knowing Danny could.

That was kinda why Danny hadn’t mentioned how theoretical this particular ability was, although he had no doubt he’d recognize Cass’s energy if she came close to death.

Which meant he should totally recognize it while she was alive, well, and had more energy, right?

He had no idea where she was, which parts of Gotham fell on her patrol route, but that kinda helped. It meant he couldn’t trick himself by focusing on a particular area.

Surprising precisely no one though, he found Jason first. The other halfa almost glowed when Danny was focusing on his energy, a bubbling little ball of yellow and red.

He… was maybe with Cass? Danny’s brows furrowed, nose scrunching as he tried to focus without changing his aura.

He was definitely with one of the liminals. And that quiet little light, almost blue, felt sort of like Cass. When he forced himself not to be distracted by Jason’s brighter glow.

Eyes snapping open, Danny’s concentration broke and he frowned up at the ceiling.

Well, that explained why Jason was in a hurry to get going. He was no expert in Gotham herself yet and had no idea where the two of them were, but if he tried again he could probably work it out.

Did Jason still have a suit? Or did he call Cass in, find something he could do as a civilian to have her help?

Shrugging to himself, Danny dismissed the question and hauled himself up. Might as well get to bed; they’d be back together in the morning and he could always ask.

**

Tim was scrolling through the code for the alert messaging system itself while Tucker went through the sections that pertained to Amity Park specifically on his PDA when the other boy made a sudden, startled squeak.

Tim considered pretending he hadn’t heard, but there was a chance he’d found the answer. So he glanced over.

“Any luck?” He asked, noting Tucker’s sudden strained expression. Maybe the guy needed the bathroom actually. They’d been down here a while.

Tucker laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So… uh… what exactly does the bug we’re looking for do?” He asked in a small voice, looking more embarrassed than Tim had ever seen.

Which… was not a proportionate response for that noise. And a question that they both probably should have thought of sooner.

He’d meant to mention it, since they’d have to explain it to the Amity Parkers at some point.

“So… remember how the Justice League never responded to an alert from Amity Park?” Tim asked not a little sheepishly himself.

Tucker nodded, not actually looking any less embarrassed himself either. That was definitely a great sign.

Tim sucked in a deep breath and forged ahead.

“So, it turns out there’s a bug in the Watchtower’s systems, where anything coming in from Amity Park gets marked as spam and funnelled straight into trash. We fixed the marking as spam thing, which I guess was user error, but it’s still-”

“All going to trash,” Tucker finished with a sigh, grimacing and shaking his head, “aaaaand I think I know why. But the timeline doesn’t make sense?”

That… that wasn’t even on the same continent as what Tim’d expected he’d say.

“The timeline?” He asked, brows furrowing, sliding over to peek at Tucker’s screen.

Tucker shook his head again, angling it so that Tim could see… a section of code that shuddered faintly in and out, almost disappearing entirely every few seconds.

That.

That was not a thing that should be happening.

Tim would have loved for it to be a simple screen glitch, but it was only that one small section of code. The lines above and below were fine, and Tucker could move the flickering chunk up and down.

“Yeah, this is your problem,” the Black man sighed, wiggling the section demonstratively, clearly aware of Tim’s shattered hopes.

Heartless man. Genius man.

“You’ve had ghosts in your back end. Probably wouldn’t even show up on an uncontaminated device. Which, by the way…” he trailed off, and Tim shook his head immediately.

“Not tonight. No changes to the batcomputer without Bruce’s say so,” Tim said firmly, since he’d already fucked up once. Might as well limit the damage.

Tucker shrugged and nodded back to the section of code.

“Okay. But this… this was definitely Technus. And that makes no sense? He’s a spirit of technology, we’ve fought him a bunch of times, but if he got into the Watchtower’s code he wouldn’t just… hide,” he tried to explain, adjusting his beret fussily.

It totally wasn’t adorable.

Tim did his best to keep up though, nodding along and thinking back over everything they’d been told about ghosts so far.

“You think we’d have noticed?” He asked, and Tucker snorted.

“He likes making giant robot bodies out of toasters, you’d definitely have noticed him on your space station,” he agreed dryly, then sighed.

Frowned down at the tablet again.

“I mean, Danny could make him do it and behave himself now, but if these changes were active during the whole Pariah Dark thing… I dunno, Technus should have been a way bigger problem. He’s not subtle.”

Tim frowned, thinking about what Tucker had said and then pausing.

“Danny could make him behave now?” He asked and Tucker pulled another face. Like he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Well, yeah, Danny’s miles out of Technus’ league now,” he tried to brush it off with a laugh, “the guy knows he’ll lose any fight so he’s really not a problem anymore. We have hackathons,” he added and Tim really wanted to know more about that.

There was just. Something off about Tucker’s answer. Not the content itself, just the way Tucker clearly wasn’t saying something.

That was a problem for future Tim though. Present Tim had a job to do.

“So can you fix what he did?” He asked the important question, and Tucker made another face.

“Dude… whoever or whatever made Technus do this, will probably notice if we fuck with it,” he said warily, and Tim shrugged.

“Whoever or whatever made Technus do it couldn’t do it themselves. How would they know?” He shot back, and Tucker chewed his lip.

Shook his head.

“Lemme text Danny. He’s the ghost expert, he’ll know how much we should worry about this,” he explained quickly, pulling out his phone and shooting off a short message.

Tim gave him his very best deadpan expression.

“How much we should worry about technology ghosts getting into space and fucking with Justice League HQ. I have the feeling the answer is “a lot”?” He offered sweetly, and Tucker snickered.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see. Might actually be alright, if this is all he touched. And, since you won’t let me juice the big computer, we’d have to scan the whole thing through my PDA. Every line of code,” he added, like Tim wasn’t already dreading it.

Tim sucked in a slow breath, weighing his options.

Touching the batcomputer? Ultimate no-no. But Tim’s personal laptop… it had access to the Watchtower’s systems, and was under Tim’s personal control.

And would let Tim go through the sensitive data himself, which the core code of the Watchtower was full of. The question was, did he trust Tucker not to install anything dangerous?

That question had been answered the second he asked Tucker to help him debug though. Clearly the guy could already put what he wanted, where he wanted, and with their current tech?

None of the bats would ever know. At least if Tim’s computer got the update, he’d have a chance at spotting ecto-infused code.

There were other computers they could use of course, old or unnetworked computers that Bruce would probably insist they start with.

Which wouldn’t be able to access the Watchtower’s servers, and couldn’t hold the whole thing to be able to run a useful check.

The answer really was kinda obvious.

Tim looked to Tucker, who’d been texting away while he thought things through.

“We can’t do the batcomputer, but is there anything you could do for my laptop tonight, or do we have to wait on Danny still?” He asked, deeply regretting that they’d gone to video games instead of the tech upgrade.

At the time he’d been planning on having a burner laptop done though, so it probably wouldn’t have been as useful.

Tucker shrugged cheerfully and slid his phone into his pocket, cracking his knuckles.

“Well, I can’t give you the full infusion to let you open Amity’s encrypted data, but I can write you a little something that should expose Technus’s code even without it,” he offered, and Tim brightened up.

“How long?” He asked eagerly, wondering if Tucker would let him watch. It’d be fair if he didn’t, Tuck had been cool about not looking when Tim played on the batcomputer, but…

Tucker smirked, flicking open a new screen on his PDA.

“How long will it take you to get the laptop down here?” He asked smugly.

Tim booked shit to the elevator.

**

Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine

2:15am

‘TooFine: Danny when tf did u have Technus hack the JL’

‘DannyP: ……. 👀 u cannot prove i did that 🚫🚫’

‘TooFine: I’m helping Tim debug the Watchtower’

‘TooFine: double fuck u for not telling me about Batman btw’

‘TooFine: someone sent all the Amity alerts to trash’

‘TooFine: if we keep talking about this I might accidentally send something to the group chat 🤨’

‘DannyP: FUCK FINE DONT TELL SAM 🏳️🏳️🏳️’

‘DannyP: after the pd thing’

‘DannyP: cw called’

‘DannyP: they hadnt been reading the messages anyway i just’

‘DannyP: shitty people track the jl y’know? and i didnt want em knowing about us’

‘DannyP: let em all think its a joke and then no one else comes an tries to use our portal to harness the realms and blow up superman or whatever’

‘TooFine: dude u fucking told me to tell them what actually happened??’

‘TooFine: pretty sure anyone tracking the jl will work that out now’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP is typing’

‘DannyP: ok so maybe i didnt think that through 😔😔😔’

‘TooFine: no shit. I’m fixing the code in case any new alerts come through but it’s not like they’ll bother to call’

‘DannyP: not like they need to, frighty’s got em covered 🗡️🗡️🎃’

‘TooFine: yeah yeah. I’ll set it to ping u too’

‘DannyP: ur the best tuck 🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️’

‘TooFine: better than u deserve’

**

Across the city, Red Hood and Black Bat had stopped for smoothies. Patrol was quiet, and word on the street was that Bluebird was mostly to blame.

Nobody wanted to know why she was back and taking no prisoners, so even the docks were almost deserted.

Then again, with Riddler and Waylon snapped back off the streets, Penguin lying low in fear of Harley, and Batwoman making Two Face’s life a personal hell?

Yeah, no wonder the smaller players were lying low.

Hood had pulled his phone out to check in on the Alley in case they’d be more useful there when he noticed a message from Tucker’s private chat app.

It was from Danny.

Danny had sent him his class schedule. Told Jason to let Danny know when he was free. Like class was the only thing that’d stop Danny from wanting to see him.

Jason was so lost in staring at his phone, utterly swamped in the implications, that he didn’t even notice Black Bat finish her smoothie and swap out her empty cup for his.

Danny wanted to see him again.

He’d have to work out a proper schedule of his own.

**

Bruce was having a Bad Day. An extended bad day, one that was fast approaching 48 hours long.

As if everything with Amity Park wasn’t already bad enough, both in the past and the present, now Constantine believed there was something wrong with Jason.

That his son wasn’t fully human anymore.

Now, Bruce’s best friends weren’t even a quarter human between them, and no matter what everyone seemed to think he was perfectly happy with meta humans.

So long as they kept themselves safe.

Preferably where they wouldn’t be mind controlled, kidnapped, or held hostage every few days. Frankly being a meta was probably stressful enough even in a normal city.

But he’d keep Gotham’s metas as safe as he could, just like Duke.

But Jason… Jason had been born human. Had lived as a human, died as a human, and Constantine seemed so sure he’d come back as something else.

“Revenant” the man had called him. An animated corpse that haunted the living, powered by rage.

Bruce might even have believed it two years ago, when Jason first returned. Jason had been so angry, intent on destroying Tim when the other was just a child.

When Jason was little more than a child.

But… that wasn’t all he was. He was himself, truly Jason Todd in ways Bruce hadn’t wanted to believe. He’d fought his rage and won every day.

Most days.

And being around Amity Park, being around Daniel James Fenton, might be enough to push him back over. To drag Jason closer back to death.

Halfas could act as psychopomps, bringing lost souls safely to the other side.

Jason had only just become himself again. They had only just begun healing the rift between them.

Bruce couldn’t lose him again.

They had to keep him away from Amity Park. It was as simple as that really; something in Jason’s resurrection had gone wrong and they all knew it.

Even Jason himself wouldn’t argue with that. Something about his death clung to him, poisoned him with that violent green rage.

His children’s reports told him that Danny was claiming to help with the pit rage because he had also been exposed. But what if he was just helping the pit?

Even if he didn’t mean to, exposing Jason to that much power that closely tied to death couldn’t be good. Constantine hadn’t exactly said as much, but Bruce could read between the lines.

Death magic was contagious between those who’d been infected. Who’d died and come back.

That wasn’t fun to know. Not with how many of his children, his friends had all died before.

Even he himself had. He’d have to investigate Amity Park personally. Take the risk himself, to keep it from the others.

Tim and Duke could help, but they were both so busy with their own lives. He would have to wait and see.

His meeting with Clark and Diana hadn’t gone well either. They’d both been gratifyingly concerned with what he’d learned and had recognized the threat.

Clark had promised to keep an ear out for Jason, to listen in on his heartbeat and make sure he was okay. Bruce would have been grateful, if Clark hadn’t also told him that Jason’s heart was noticeably slow.

Easy to pick out, even if they hadn’t spent much time together.

Just how close was his boy to dying again?

Diana had advised caution. Wanted to speak to Danny herself, see the hero who had shouldered the burden of this small town. See if he had turned under the pressure.

Pressure that should never have been his. Pressure they should all have shared, protecting the child and the town together.

It would be his fault if Danny had broken. Had given in to whatever in the Infinite Realms had stolen a whole town away.

Bruce knew that with a leaden certainty, felt the weight of it settle in his chest. The same way he knew he was responsible for most of his rogues.

He could see the wisdom in letting Diana talk to the man first. She was wiser than most of the League, and a good judge of character. Even without her lasso, it was hard to lie to her.

But if what Constantine said was true, he didn’t want to tip their hand. Zatanna and Shazam had both agreed to attend tomorrow and give their own opinions.

They could afford to wait one night. Perhaps two, if Danny couldn’t be found tomorrow.

Just about the only thing Bruce wasn’t worried about was Danny running. If he had ill intentions, he wasn’t the sort to give in and disappear so easily.

He’d threatened Bruce to stay out of things between him and Jason. And certainly wasn’t afraid of a fight.

Bruce was also quite sure that he and Diana could take the boy if it came to it, even with the abilities Constantine ascribed to the realms. He would find a way.

But not tonight, he reminded himself firmly as he strode into the zeta tube. Tonight he would go home, update his children, and get some sleep.

Maybe waiting a day or two to speak to Danny directly would help. This concussion had passed frustrating and was beginning to affect his decision making.

Shaking his head to clear it, Bruce hit the button to send him home. Soon he could rest. At least for a little while.

**

A gentle buzzer went off in the cave and Tim yelped like he’d been stung, clutching at Tucker’s arm in an entirely unmanly way.

“SHIT he’s back hide the candy canes!”

Tucker stared at him wide eyed, but to his credit the other man didn’t hesitate to sweep the pile of different flavoured canes off the desk and into the front of his shirt.

“Where?!” He asked, and Tim hesitated for half an instant.

The zeta tube was down by the cars. Bruce would be up in less than a minute. Spinning Tucker by the shoulders, he shoved him towards the infirmary.

“Get in there! Don’t come out til I say!” He hissed, already hearing the zeta tube’s door whoosh open.

Tucker obediently scurried away, and thank fuck he was quick on the uptake enough to drop his voice below a whisper.

“What?! Tim, what?! Am I not supposed to fucking be here?!” He hissed, and Tim pulled the infirmary door almost shut before darting back to the table.

He’d cleared it with Bruce, had texted about giving their guests a tour, but since it turned out that Tucker hadn’t already been in the know… well, he wanted to prime Bruce with the good news first.

The tube only pinged once though, so Constantine hadn’t come back with him. That was probably good. Bruce would be less cranky.

Tim wasn’t exactly back in his seat by the time Bruce reached the batcomputer, but he was close enough to watch him note the second chair.

Tim didn’t let him ask.

“I have a first hand witness account of what happened in Amity Park.” That was the important thing, right? That they had answers.

Bruce stared at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed and the whiteouts narrowing with them. Tim stared him down, refusing to look away.

He’d fucked up just like, a tiny bit. But he’d gotten results. Better results than anyone else. So was it really a fuck up?

He watched Bruce’s eyes widen as he realized, and was a little surprised when the man’s shoulders slumped. He dropped gracelessly into the swivel chair, elbows propped on the table and his head cradled in his hands.

Tim was growing a little alarmed now, hurrying forward to Bruce’s side. Was he injured? Had something happened?

His hand was just reaching out to touch when Bruce sighed and sat back up.

“Tim. Who did you bring to tour the cave?” He asked in a tired, heavy voice, and Tim’s brows furrowed.

What? He’d said, hadn’t he?

“Tucker Foley?” He said cautiously, wondering if he should call Alfred. Maybe switch out Bruce and Tucker and get the big guy into the infirmary.

Bruce was very still. Tim forged ahead, hoping to get to the good news.

“He was a vigilante back in Amity Park, part of the support team. I have his statement going back to the beginning of the ghost attacks, and he’s already answered most of our questions.”

Leaning past Bruce, he hit a couple of keys and brought up the sound file of Tucker’s interview.

Bruce was still a little slow as he turned to look, but it seemed to hearten him. Which was when Tim realized.

“Wait. Who did you think I was bringing?” He asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

Bruce shot him a sidelong frown, pulling off his cowl.

“Not a stranger,” he growled, though his heart clearly wasn’t in it. He just sounded tired.

Tim carefully patted him on the shoulder, still thoroughly confused.

“What? But I said…” he paused, pulling out his phone and staring at the texts.

Nope. No he didn’t.

Oops.

Groaning, Tim let his head drop.

“Ah fuck, and I thought we were doing so well!” He sighed heavily and Bruce made a grunt that might have been a laugh. “Alfred’s going to be unbearable.”

That shut Bruce right up, as it should, and then Bruce sighed again. They were moving past it then. Probably for the best, since Alfred would lecture them both on the importance of communication later.

At least it wasn’t only Tim’s fault. The only person who wasn’t a stranger or a bat had been Harley, and he wasn’t actually sure if Harley had cave privileges.

Well. She did now. Since that was what Bruce must have thought he was asking.

Then Bruce straightened, eyes determined and steely.

“I have new information from Constantine. The risks of the Infinite Realms.” It definitely heartened him to talk about, skipping straight to the debrief part of the day.

Maybe they could just skip right over the Tim-fucked-up-and-brought-a-stranger-to-the-cave.

“I need you all to keep away from the Amity Parkers until I know more.”

Ah.

No then. Nope, not skipping over it, because Tucker was actively still fucking in the cave. It was for the best that they’d hidden him then.

Tim shook his head firmly, hoping that if he seemed certain that would help.

“That’s not gonna work, Bruce. I couldn’t have fixed our Watchtower problem without Tucker, and we can’t look at any of the Amity Park data without an Amity Park device.” It was the theory they’d been running with, but they’d had it confirmed now.

Never mind that Tucker had already downloaded most of what was publicly available for them. Bruce would always want a primary source anyway.

Tim pretended it didn’t affect him when Bruce’s head jerked, eyes narrowed as he scowled at Tim.

“You let him into the code for the Watchtower?!” He exclaimed in a hiss. Which was interesting, since Tim had kinda figured the bat cave thing would be more personal.

Then again, the Watchtower could compromise more than that.

“Bruce, read the report on Tucker. We literally couldn’t stop him if he wanted to hack in, because his tech runs on levels that slide right past ours. Tech he’s already sharing,” he added sharply, reaching behind him without looking to hook his laptop forwards.

Bruce, mouth already open to argue, quieted at once. Yeah, new toys always helped. Tim nodded to the batcomputer.

“The update’s ready to go live, but I waited because you need to see this. Open the third window,” he nodded over, pulling up the corresponding section of code on the laptop.

Bruce’s expression pinched but he did as requested, clearly not willing to put another step between himself and the answer. A quick glance up to confirm, and Tim nodded to himself.

Fuck, he needed a laser pointer.

“So it all looks good up there, right?” He pushed and Bruce frowned, but nodded, eyes scanning quickly across the screen.

“Is this your update?” He asked but Tim was already shaking his head, pushing his own laptop towards the man.

Bruce’s eyes widened at the glitching sections of code. Tim nodded, satisfied he’d gotten Tim’s point.

“Tucker Foley wrote me a program so that I could access this ghost code. In half an hour. From scratch,” he added for emphasis, and yeah, he could already hear the lecture about “compromised tech”.

He tried to shut that one off too, pointing up at the screens.

“That? That’s apparently the work of a ghost. One called Technus, who likes to possess technology, and now Tucker and I are going through every line of the Watchtower’s code looking for changes.”

Bruce’s lips thinned to a tense line and he gave a short, harsh nod. He very obviously didn’t like it, but the presence of a bigger threat did wonders for calming him down.

Tim patted his laptop.

“We’re waiting on you to upgrade the batcomputer, but we’re gonna need to check every program on that too. Everything, Bruce. These ghosts could have been rewriting everything. And we’d never know if I hadn’t asked Tuck to help me with the Watchtower.”

Honestly, Tim was just hoping none of their rogues had made any ghostly connections. The implications made his head spin, but he stubbornly kept himself on track.

They needed Tucker’s help. Never mind that the ghosts themselves were reportedly allergic to subtlety and would always go big over going home; that was a tendency, not a guarantee.

Hell, if Tim had a say, he’d get Tucker’s upgrades for the ghost code, improved firewalls, and Danny’s ectoplasm into all his own gear by tomorrow.

He wasn’t going to, Bruce’s paranoia being what it was, but he was already uploading Tucker’s program to his suit’s wrist computer. It wasn’t like there’d be any hidden malware.

Tim had watched over his shoulder as Tucker wrote it, direct on the PDA. And watching him work had been… it was just…

He so rarely got to talk to anyone that was actually on his level. Rarer still that they weren’t a direct member of the family.

And Tucker, for all he currently had a tech advantage? He’d invented that advantage himself. All on his own, he was incredible. Maybe even better with some aspects of software than Tim himself.

The things they could do together… even the internship was pretty much a formality at this point. Just get Tuck through college and see if he’d accept a job at WE.

Hell, if he wanted to found his own company Tim would invest. That kind of brilliance deserved everything it needed to grow.

He had to wrench himself back to the present moment, the “introduce new genius to Batman” step still looming large, but honestly? Tim wasn’t worried. Bruce would see the potential.

Here and now Bruce’s gaze had gone distant, and Tim could easily have kept going, but he stayed quiet. Let the man absorb new information, stop and think.

And if he still wanted to make dumbass decisions, well, Tim could argue with him literally all night. They’d all picked up Bruce’s stubbornness too.

**

It was hard to focus on the screen through the throbbing of his head, the lights too bright even at their lowest setting. He’d checked.

Luckily, it was an issue he’d been dealing with for years, and Bruce pushed it aside with the resigned acceptance of long practice.

He’d pay for it later. That night of sleep was probably going to be a day of sleep at this rate, but he’d get at least six hours. More if Alfred caught him.

For now… Tim felt very strongly about this. Had good reason to, if he was even half right about the scope of the problem, or Tucker’s uses as a solution.

After hearing from one member of the Justice League Dark, Bruce was desperately hoping Tim was right. They sorely needed an ally, one they could trust to guide them through these dangerous waters.

Of course, Fenton and Foley were close. That may skew his judgement, but it could be accounted for. Wasn’t worth more than an ally whose skillset Bruce understood, and could trust.

Tucker Foley was a tech expert, which put him above any occult master in Bruce’s book. Magic had no rules, not that could be relied on, and Bruce wouldn’t touch it if he didn’t have to.

And Tucker’s tech would work with his own.

There’d be a review period of course. He’d have to meet Tucker himself, speak to him a little, get a sense of the man. See how far his opinions would be based in fact, not feeling.

Tim’s vouch was a good first step. As little as Bruce liked that Tim had brought an outsider down to the lab. And then let him use Tim’s computer.

And honestly, it certainly wasn’t Tim’s fault that Bruce hadn’t asked. He’d been lax, not checked properly, and it was that damned concussion slowing him down.

He needed sleep. His thinking was dangerously clouded. But one thing was always true: he trusted Tim’s judgement. Probably more than he trusted his own at the moment.

They could review the situation in the morning, come up with some suitable punishment and protocol to introduce new vigilantes to the cave (which they’d never needed, because other heroes usually came through the League and were already vetted).

A thought struck and Bruce almost smiled. It would be a fitting solution on three separate sides. Maybe the punishment would be easy after all.

“Alright. I’ll need to speak to Foley first. And you will be writing out fresh protocols to address when a new hero but not a league member can be introduced to the cave,” he added, and Tim groaned loudly.

Bruce ignored him. That was just the start of his troubles.

“You will also be responsible for running John Constantine through the full reporting system, and updating the training materials so this doesn’t happen again.” It was a weight off his shoulders, really.

And a fitting punishment, because Tim would definitely think twice before pulling this stunt again. The man himself threw both his hands into the air.

“What?! Bruce! You said you fixed it!” He whined, and Bruce resisted the urge to smile.

“And I fixed Amity Park. But I highly doubt this was his only error, so the two of you will have to review every case he’s reported on before you go back on patrol.”

It was probably several hundred since they’d had the new system alone. Tim groaned like Bruce was sucking the soul from his body.

Bruce levelled him with a stern look.

“I take the secrecy of the cave seriously, Red Robin. This will not happen again.”

“Because I’m gonna die of old age sitting at a desk with Constantine,” Tim grumbled, folding his arms and scowling.

It wasn’t even something he could write a program to fudge for him; every case would need Constantine’s personal input to be sure it was filed correctly.

Bruce was quite pleased with this solution. But he made sure to hide the smile from Tim, who wouldn’t appreciate it right now.

“Tucker Foley may end up working out for us all, but that’s no guarantee a future mistake won’t be fatal. And Tim…” even if it was a formality at this point, he had to ask. “Do you trust him?”

The answer was obvious, this was Tim’s personal laptop, this was the Bat Cave, and as expected Tim nodded immediately, the sulk from his punishment vanishing.

“He’s a good guy. He’s even made a clean set of Amity Park data you can look through until Danny fixes the batcomputer.”

Ah. And there was the problem. With a solution wrapped around it though, so Bruce focused on the cleaned set of data.

If Tucker was anything like Tim, it’d be extensive enough to keep him busy until the Justice League came to a decision.

Until he could speak to Danny. Speak to Jason.

He was so tired.

Bruce nodded, leaning back in his seat.

“Alright. Tucker Foley is exempted, but I need you and the others to stay away from the rest, and particularly Danny Fenton until the League has made a decision.”

It was just a little heart breaking watching Tim’s face fall from hope and happiness straight back into worry.

“But Bruce… he’s helping Jason with the pit, he might need to see him,” he argued, arms folding again.

Bruce shook his head. That was exactly what he was afraid of.

“I know… and I know how Jason feels about following orders. I’ll tell him myself, tonight.” Luckily he was still in the batsuit, if not the cowl.

Raising his wrist to his face, Bruce activated his secondary comm on the group channel. He’d turned both off when his children headed out, fully aware Oracle would override it if they needed him.

He didn’t need to be distracted by the noises of a normal night.

“Everyone, return to the cave before heading in please. There have been developments I need to update you on.” Nothing to worry them, but hopefully interesting enough that Jason would still drop in.

No talk of protocols or anything. No, that was Tim’s future.

Tim, who was looking at him oddly.

“Who told you Jason went out tonight?” He asked, and Bruce frowned. Looked up at the batcomputer, and realized that the tracker screen wasn’t open.

That could be a problem.

“Didn’t he?” He asked, really not looking forward to asking Dick to ask Jason to drop by tonight. If Jason was actually home, actually sleeping…

But Tim shook his head, that odd expression still on his face.

“He never said he would, but he called in after taking Danny home. He’s out with Black Bat,” Tim added, and Bruce frowned.

Why even bring it up if Jason was out? What did it matter?

Tim, clearly seeing and understanding his confusion, groaned and tugged at his hair.

“Bruce. Please, just… listen to me. Danny isn’t the threat here. He’s been nothing but helpful. He’s the one who picked up the ball when the League dropped it, who dealt with all the ghosts we can’t. He saved that town-”

“We don’t know that, Tim,” Bruce cut him off, shaking his head sharply. “We can’t take that risk.”

He could see Tim getting frustrated, temper flaring, and in an odd way, it made him feel better. Calm. In control.

“Bruce, you stubborn… so what? We just tell Jason to keep away from the only person who makes him feel better?” Tim asked sarcastically, and Bruce could see exactly how he’d missed the point.

This was what he’d have to watch for with Tucker Foley. But the technical advantages would be worth it.

“We don’t know that he’s making the pits better,” Bruce said darkly, and fuck it felt good to even voice the thought aloud.

Made it feel real, less like paranoia.

Tim gaped at him, but didn’t argue.

Bruce raised a hand, counting the points off on his fingers.

One.

“None of us heard anything about him a week ago. Not even a few days. Fenton has been here over a year and only just ran into Jason?” It wasn’t possible.

It didn’t make sense. Gotham was a large city, sure, but for two people apparently so closely linked? No.

A second finger rose.

“Danny himself claims that he is helping with the pits.”

“Jason agrees,” Tim cut in, clearly looking to break his train of thought. Bruce silenced him with a stern glare.

“Danny claims he is helping with the pits. Jason claims to have noticed the same thing, but we already know the pits affect his mind. He may not understand what’s being done to him.”

That? That made perfect sense. The pits had driven Jason into those uncontrollable rages, made him do things he’d never have wanted to.

Who was to say they couldn’t have a more subtle influence? More dangerous? More like Ra’s himself.

Even Tim couldn’t argue with that, and Bruce nodded his satisfaction at the boy’s silence, raising a third finger. This… he wasn’t looking forward to this one.

But its weight had been sitting in his chest since the possibility came up, and he didn’t want to hide anything from his boys. They deserved to know the risks.

No matter how much he’d rather protect them from it.

“The little f… Constantine believes there is a chance that even being close to Danny may have dangerous side effects for Jason, purely accidentally.”

Tim’s eyebrow rose at the aborted description, and Bruce was glad he’d clamped down on it. Couldn’t quite meet the boy’s eye as he continued to explain.

“Danny’s connection to… his death,” the words were hard to even speak, another child lost, “is what gives him his power. It’s strong, and may have radiating effects Danny doesn’t even know about.”

Because that was kind of the worst part. There was a chance that Danny truly meant everything he’d said in earnest. That he was Jason’s friend, wanted to protect him.

Wanted to help Jason come back to himself and be free of the pit rage. That they did truly care for each other, and wanted to make each other better.

And none of those good intentions would matter if Danny’s mere presence risked Jason’s soul.

He could see Tim realizing it too, eyes widening and the aggression slumping from his shoulders. But he’d decided to be honest.

Clear, open communication. They could try.

“The way Jason came back… we still don’t know how it happened, or why. But anything half living and half dead can have side effects on the world around them, especially for those who have already died.”

Danny might be here to take Jason away. Back to the dead.

He’d meant to say the words, to lay it bare, but in the end he choked on them. Couldn’t even face the thought.

Tomorrow. After he slept. If they still needed convincing, he’d try again tomorrow. Which did neatly bring them to point number four.

Steeling himself, Bruce shifted his gaze back to Tim, raising his pinky finger.

“And if you are right, if Danny really is helping… it’ll only be for a few days. I meet with the League tomorrow. Zatanna and Shazam will both be there to give their opinions.”

Suddenly Bruce just felt tired. Tired of arguing, trying to make people see things his way. All he wanted was a couple of days. Just to be sure. Just to be safe.

Tim raised an eyebrow again, shifting slowly to lean against the other chair.

“Then why will it be a few days? Why not tomorrow?” He asked cautiously and Bruce chuckled.

Of course Tim knew him well enough to know there would be something else.

“I’d like to talk to him myself first. Perhaps have them meet him directly. Just to be sure what his intentions are in the city.”

“And with Jason,” Tim put in flatly. Bruce just nodded. The boy was right.

“With the city and with Jason,” he agreed, looking back up at the large screens of the batcomputer.

Pulled up the location tracker for his bats and birds, watching their little trails of light run across the city. He wouldn’t let any of those lights wink out.

Tim sighed and shook his head, coming to lean against the back of Bruce’s chair instead. Not quite tall enough to rest his chin on the top of Bruce’s head, and not likely to grow much more at nineteen.

“I still think it’s a bad idea,” he said bluntly, eyes tracking the Red Hood dot in particular. “You’ll only push Jason further away by trying to control who he sees.”

Bruce shook his head, leaning back just a little more into the presence of his son.

“I don’t care if Jason hates me for the rest of his life, so long as it’s a long and healthy one,” he said softly, and Tim snorted.

Pushed away from the chair, and for a moment the distance ached.

“Yeah, well. When it blows up in your face, I told you so. Did you wanna see Tucker tonight or tomorrow?” He asked, and Bruce’s head snapped suddenly around, scanning the cave.

“He’s still here?”

**

Shaking his head, Tim made his way across the cave to the infirmary, pulling out his phone where Bruce couldn’t see it. He shot off a quick text, not looking down.

‘J. Don’t come back to cave. B has mega bitch face just let him cool down’

**

Across the city, the message flashed in the corner of Red Hood’s helmet visor. Groaning to himself, Hood kicked a goon’s gun into Gotham bay and waved to Black Bat.

“You good? I gotta send a text.” He called, deeply offending the eight goons still standing, armed with knives and fucking pipes, and tussling with Black Bat.

Which only got worse when she shot him a quick thumbs up, sat on a particularly tall goon’s shoulders before throwing herself back so far the guy toppled, twisting them in the air so she still somehow wound up on top.

Hood nodded, pulling out his phone one handed.

“Hey! You can’t just text! We’re not done!” A goon protested, rushing in at Red Hood.

Who pulled his gun and shot him in both kneecaps, sending him sprawling to the slick planks of the dock.

This was why he always took out their shooters first. Batman could preach hand to hand all he liked, it was way safer when the bad guys had holes in their hands and no guns.

“Anyone else?” Hood asked rhetorically, pointing the last gun on the dock at the remaining goons in turn. In unison, all six focused their attention solely on Black Bat.

Not because they thought they’d win, but well. She didn’t have a fucking gun.

“Yeah, thought so,” Hood grumbled, sending a quick message back to Tim.

Paused to take a picture when Black Bat actually got three heads at once into a leg lock, because that had to be a record.

‘Is it to do with your big fuck up?’ Cuz honestly, what else could B be pissed about?

The answer came back though, fast and weird.

‘As hard as I also find it to believe this, no. Magician’s got him all twisted around about Phantom. Wants to forbid us all from seeing him.’

The phone creaked in Jason’s grip as he read the last words, a low rumbling growl spilling from low in his chest.

The remaining standing goons whipped around and exchanged startled looks.

That. That definitely wasn’t fucking good. No way.

Black Bat took another to floor as they paused, and the last three fled. Didn’t quite make it to the door.

Jason didn’t notice until her hand landed gently on his shoulder, concern radiating off her. His head whipped round, and he was suddenly glad the full helmet covered his face.

Couldn’t see the way he fucking snarled at her.

Black Bat didn’t move, her head cocked to one side as she regarded him.

“Eyes. Glowing,” she told him carefully, reaching up to touch the side of his helmet.

Jason jerked back in shock, but he could already feel the green rushing away. Receding until his vision purely his own again.

He hadn’t even noticed the green haze.

Black Bat inspected him again, then nodded, going on tiptoes to pat him on top of the head.

“What’s wrong?”

Red Hood sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to recenter. He’d never felt the rage come on that fast, from nothing to all consuming before he even felt it.

Even thinking of the messages made angry green tides again.

We will not be kept from the King!

And it was talking to him again. Lovely. Why couldn’t that part have been his imagination?

Shaking his head, he focused on Black Bat’s question instead.

“Just B bein’ an asshole again. I’m gonna pass on the cave tonight, tell him I went to bed.” It was about as much as he thought he could talk about it without screaming.

Almost forgot that Black Bat could read him too, her aura still soothing and open to him as she nodded. Rested a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Go now. Rest,” she told him firmly, turning back to the downed and groaning goons.

Red Hood hesitated, looking around the dock. It was getting early, nearly time to turn in anyway, and they were done here. Just a routine drug shipment.

The last lot too dense to be cowed by the mood on the streets, or counting on the hour to mean the bats went to bed. Cuz that went so well for them.

He nodded and moved to help her, flipping the biggest goon over and zip tying his wrists to his elbows, and then his ankles.

“After I help you wrap your presents,” he agreed, heard Black Bat let out a soft huff of laughter.

One of the still conscious goons shot him a glare.

“Y’could at least pretend to take us seriously,” she grumbled, then yelped as one of her fellow goons kicked her in the shins.

Clear message: do not push the crazy bat.

Red Hood snorted.

“I’ll take you seriously when you’ve fuckin’ earned it,” he told her, going for the next biggest body.

Black Bat could take every one of them out of the fight, but bagging and tagging a dead weight was much less fun for her. He could handle that part before turning in.

He had a big day tomorrow.

**

Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine

4:30am

‘TooFine: dude Tim just shoved me in a closet I don’t think Batman knows I’m here?????’

‘TooFine: dude’

‘TooFine: dude wake tf up I might need emergency evac 🚨🚨’

4:35am

‘TooFine: that fucking Constantine guy’s put a bug in Batman’s ass’

‘TooFine: told u we shoulda hunted him down 😤’

‘TooFine: and after all I did to help!! Ungrateful bat!!’

4:46am

‘TooFine: okay Batman fucking hates u specifically ur screwed 😳’

‘TooFine: I’m good tho 😇’

‘TooFine: I think he likes me now 😏’

‘TooFine: he wants all my sweet tech upgrades’

‘TooFine: they’re gonna let me play on the batcomputer!!! 😳😳😳’

5am

‘TooFine: u are missing vital updates bitch’

‘TooFine: he’s gonna fucking ground Jason from hanging out with u’

‘TooFine: AH SHIT HE KNOWS IM HERE ABORT ABORT ABORT’

8am

‘TooFine: u may have been right going to bed early man this shit sucks’

‘TooFine: didn’t even get to see what happened’

‘TooFine: they sent me to bed like a naughty child! 😤’

‘TooFine: I’m changing all his ring tones to Funky Town’

10:59am

‘DannyP: okay miette’

11:02am

‘HalfBitch: OKAY IM SORRY TUCKER AT LEAST TAKE THE MAGIC MIKE THEME OFF’

��—————————

Next Chapter:

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778

[platypanthewriter]

Stories of the past:  Billy

The Keg-King of Elfland’s Sword, Ch. 8 for @ihni​

Here are links to the other chapters

As they approached the docks, they could see flashes lighting the night sky up dark blue from across the lake, showing the the legs of an enormous spider crab overarching the lake, silvery in the ferry lanterns, but black against the sky. The gleaming light shone off the flank of Wheeler’s white deer, tiny against the backdrop of waves, mountain, and lightning.

“The Lady of the Salt Lake,” said one of the boys, pointing, and Max stared. “She rides it, when she fights against the Nuckelavee.”

“Now she rides against us,” said the little one, Will Byers, the one who ought to sound angrier, Billy thought, after escaping with a body full of crustaceans.

“She can try,” said Max, readying her sword.

“They’ve been herding us here,” said the curly one, with the club. “Because we’re children. Makes it easier to find her, at least.”

Harrington snorted, and held a hand out for his club.

“I can stop her,” said the little girl—Ellie, Billy remembered, the one who’d been held captive by the men with cannons. The spindly-legged crabs spilled over the stones at the river’s edge as they ran, and Ellie turned, set her feet, and whipped her hand through the air at them. The crabs scattered like a glittering pile of mica in wind, and Billy’s mouth fell open. He nearly tripped, then registered Harrington’s voice in his ear.

“She may be one of the Fair Folk herself,” Harrington whispered. “That’s—that would be why she believes she is the child. The one the Lady seeks.” She’d escaped, somehow, and Billy abruptly wondered whether it hadn’t been the Nuckelavee, but her, causing the skeletons. He would have been tempted to ask, if the children, even Max, hadn’t been sending him glances like he was some storybook bogeyman: He Who Strikes From Behind.

“You can’t go with her,” one of the assorted boys took Ellie’s hands. “She can’t make you leave—”

Billy, who was trying to place him, thought he might have been at the Ball. There were too damn many children, as far as he was concerned, though he was fairly certain this was neither the one who puked crabs, nor one of the two who had held weapons on him, so if he needed to save any, he decided, he’d be the first after Max. Ellie, apparently, could handle herself.

“I’m the one she stole,” said the one Billy believed to be a fellow William, the crab-puker. “It’s me she wants, Ellie, you don’t have to—”

“What would she want with any of you,” Steve groaned, and Billy resisted the urge to nod.

“The Fair Folk like children,” said the one with Billy’s sword. “She’s not hunting one of us. She hasn’t given Callie back. She’s herding us all here—”

“We do not— we don’t all steal people—” said the hitherto Least Objectionable Child, and Billy raised his eyebrows, wondering who he was.

“She’s never taken children before, either—” Curly said, and Ellie spun on her heel to yell “I will stop her.”

Harrington set his jaw, swallowing. “They were coming anyway,” he told Billy, under his breath. “I—I couldn’t let the little goblins come alone.”

“Of course you couldn’t,” Billy whispered back, with a snort, and yanked Harrington’s head closer to kiss his temple. “Hero Harrington. Max can be hard to—”

Harrington rolled his eyes. “I’m not trying to be a hero—”

“You aren’t,” Billy pulled him close again, licking his ear, and Harrington shoved him, laughing. “That’s why I—want you. Wanted you. When I heard about you, at the Ball.”

“...I thought it was my looks,” Harrington said, snickering, and the children stopped to glare back at them, white-faced, tight-jawed, and teary-eyed.

“I thought you two hated each other!” wailed Curls, and Max swiveled to fix her fury on him.

“Billy’s staying,” she hissed, and Harrington yanked Billy close, pressing warm kisses to his face.

“You intended to stay,” he whispered, laughing. “Even—even—after. Before.”

Billy hadn’t, and yet, he couldn’t imagine himself having left without fixing like a post under Harrington’s chamber window, standing in wind and weather until Harrington let him speak. “I could hardly leave without you hogtied over my saddle,” he whispered back, and Harrington burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the silvery night.

At just that moment, there was another crash ahead, and a scream. Little Will-of-the-crabs shoved away, running to the docks, and the others followed, their footsteps smacking loud against the paving stones over the sounds of the rushing river. Billy stopped, squinting, when his footsteps changed to hollow thuds on boards, but Harrington drug him forward across the dock, to where they could see Ms. Byers, Will, and Ellie trying to keep the Sheriff from sinking in the roiling foam. In the darkness, the dock looked too short, and Billy realized it was broken, the jagged edges breaking away as Ms. Byers tilted forward with another scream, and Max charged in, throwing her sword to the side.

Billy dodged back as Wheeler’s white stag clattered up, joined by Buckley and the others, and the children gathered around trying to help everyone out of the water as the ferry jutted up sideways and slammed into the docks hard enough that the horses staggered and reared.

Thomas fired off a crossbow bolt at the dark shapes above, then fell as the great silvery tree trunk of the Lady’s steed-crab’s leg came down on the docks, amid shrieks from the children. Billy nearly fell to his knees, supporting Harrington.

“I am here, children,” said the Lady, and the silvery light around them grew. It was bluish, and the small hairs on the backs of Billy’s arms and neck lifted. “This town that harms children will be washed clean. Come.”

“No,” cried one of the boys, and Billy wished him luck. “You’re the only one hurting anyone! Give Callie back! And my sister’s friend, Barbara Holland!”

Harrington hauled him closer, as Billy tried to find Max. Buckley was standing next to Wheeler, with another crossbow, and Carol alongside, the three of them placing themselves between the Lady and the panicked confusion over the disintegrating dock. It looked like everyone was out of the water, crawling away from the building waves.

“These people have frightened children,” the Lady told them, her hair lifting and crackling from her head. “They have stolen from me. Ellie,” she held out a hand. “Dear one. I saved you. Why did you run?”

Ellie shook her head, sniffling.

“She wanted to be with her real mom,” the boy holding Ellie’s hand yelled back.

“I will wash this place down to its stones,” the Lady told him. “I have fought for them. Every spring, for their sakes, I have fought the Nuckelavee back into its lair. I have—I have suffered for them. We—” she held a long, pale hand out to Wheeler, who shook her head, raising her crossbow. “We of the mountain have protected their fragile lives, and in return they captured a child—” she waved a graceful hand at Ellie, “—and threatened her into breaking a hole between worlds. Much sadness will come of that,” she whispered, staring over them all with fixed eyes that shone with their own inner light. “Many of their lives will be further shortened. Animals, running in fear. But come, it needn’t all be grief. Come, children. You shall be harmed no more.”

“No!” Ellie yelled back, trying to stand as the roiling sea shook the dock.

“Wait,” Thomas shouted suddenly. “What did we steal?”

“Shut your mouth, Tommy,” Billy heard Carol hiss, but he ignored her.

��No, really, we didn’t blow up her house, but I know what she means—but what exactly did we steal?”

“Me,” said Ellie, and Will nodded.

“Ellie left her, and then came with us,” Thomas yelled. “What did we steal?”

“My own child,” the Lady hissed, swiping her hand around her, and the deep, chill water pulled back to leave a sphere of crackling air around the docks, leaving only glistening rocks, mud, and gasping fish. The darkness was split by surges of light from the Lady, dazzling their eyes and reflecting off the wall of ocean growing taller than they could see.

“What did those letters say, Steven Harrington,” Thomas turned, holding his hands around his mouth to project his voice. It quavered. “Madness in his blood. Witchcraft, from a woman who thought she was a fae princess. He’s looking for his mother.”

“Shut your mouth, Thomas,” Carol yelled, raising her sword, and he bared his teeth at her.

“It’s important,” Thomas yelled, “Young Master Harrington. He’s lied about everything. He’s brought her on this town. Give him back to her.”

Billy felt as though he’d gone numb, his brain trying to take in the phosphorescent shape of a floating woman, and the towering cliff face of water, lifting over Hawkins.

“...Billy,” Steve whispered, clenching his hand on Billy’s shoulder.

“No,” Billy shook his head. “No. I can’t—Harrington—”

“What nonsense to you speak,” the Lady asked, with a snap in her voice they could taste. “The people of this place will hurt no more children—”

“When I was a child, a wave took the lower town,” Harrington whispered, staring at Billy. “When we were children. Billy, how old are you? When did your father move to Australia?”

Billy shook his head, swallowing. “No! I—I’m two and twenty—I was six, but—”

“She’s here because of you,” Harrington said, and Billy flinched, shaking his head. Harrington ran his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths. “She—she called the ocean, and sixteen years ago, she took the lower town. Because her lover took her child... very, very far away. She couldn’t find him—”

Billy shook his head, swallowing. He could hear Max yelling something, obscured by the rushing in his ears. “No. She—she tried to drown me, she—”

“She doesn’t understand humans,” Harrington stared into his face. “She thought she was helping Ellie. She’s the Mother of the Sea, Billy, she thought you’d be able to breathe water.”

“No,” Billy shook his head harder, feeling Harrington pull away as he stood. “No, Harrington, I can’t—”

Thomas hailed the Lady. “This is him. Your child,” he waved a hand. “He came back looking for you.”

“...no,” said the Lady, stepping off the crab to land in the middle of the ferry with a loud crunch of wood. She jerked her foot back out of the broken decking, and walked across the water and collapsing wreckage to stare into Billy’s face. “You are not he,” she said, and his eyes burned, as though, he thought, he’d wanted, just for a moment, to be claimed. He staggered forward at a grating blow to the back and sides of his neck, and she stepped back, a gleaming trail dangling from her hand in the uneven light, the chain of Billy’s necklace broken from his neck. “Yet you have my gift.”

“No,” Billy forced his voice through his raw throat. “No, the-that’s mine—”

“You are not my child, you are another thief,” she said, energy crackling around them, and Billy shook his head, unable to find his words. In the dazzle, he felt hands on his arm, and heard Harrington’s urgent voice.

“It’s the necklace you gave him! It’s been twenty years! Babies grow!”

“...that is so.” The crackling light dimmed, and Billy could see again, a little. His throat ached. “But it cannot have been so long. This stranger—”

“I’m sorry,” Billy breathed, reaching for the necklace, as she clicked it. Harrington’s voice came out, and she threw it down, leaving a blackened hole in the dock.

“You traded my voice,” she whispered, as Billy watched it fall, dropping to his knees next to the hole. “Was it so valueless, to you?”

“...he recieved it with no voice,” Harrington said, and Billy jerked back to attention, standing up.

“Lies. I sang to my child,” she said, stepping close, so every hair on Billy’s body lifted, and his clothed fluttered as though there was wind. “I could not keep him safe, but I told him of his home, and of my love.”

“...he—he must have—wiped it clean,” Billy whispered, shaking. “My—my father. I carried it as a gift from—from you, but I had no—I thought you had...nothing to say.”

“I had the world to say,” she whispered back, and his eyes blurred. Harrington’s fingers were bruisingly tight in his shoulder.

“I didn’t steal it,” Billy told her, glancing past her at the enormous wave suspended over the town. His voice shook. “I’ve always worn it—”

The great silver crab crushed another piling holding up the dock, and Hopper swore as the boards under them juddered and creaked. He and the Byers woman were dragging the children ashore.

Buckley shouted, “—we didn’t steal him. Can’t you—can we—take him back, if that—”

“Wait, we only have his word he didn’t know,” Thomas yelled over her. “He probably knew all along. Only the Lady can control the Nuckelavee, Harrington! The Sea Mither. His mother. He was never in danger at all, he probably called it—”

“Shut up, Tommy,” Harrington said through gritted teeth.

“Why have you never sent word,” the Lady asked Billy, reaching out. “I would speak with you, my own. Dear one. Where came you these bruises? Who has assailed you?”

Billy fought to talk, his muscles spasming at her closeness. His jaw wouldn’t open until she lowered her hand, and he wheezed deep breaths.

“I knew he was hiding something else,” Thomas laughed, and Harrington yanked Billy closer, but the Lady turned her gaze on Thomas.

“My child’s blood is upon you,” she whispered, floating higher, and raised her hand. The wave began to fall.

Everyone ran to get off the dock, stumbling, screaming, and swinging up on horses—except Thomas, who stared out at the wave, then swung around on Billy, grabbing his shirt. “You’ve killed him,” he hissed. "You've killed us all."

Billy swung at him, trying to free himself, but Carol, Robin, and Harrington started hauling them towards the town.

“There’s no time!” Carol screamed, shoving at Tommy’s hands.

Tommy reached past Robin to grab for Billy, teeth bared, and Robin staggered at the edge of the dock, when Carol shoved past Thomas to grab Robin around the waist, hauling her bodily back towards town. Thomas hung in the air for a moment, and then the water struck.

Billy heard a yell from Harrington as the air was smacked from his lungs, and tried to kick towards him. The roiling foam was white, and bright turquoise, and a green so dark it was almost black, and he was knocked sideways by the coils of the eels and the tree-trunk-sized leg of the Lady’s spider crab steed. He couldn’t find anyone, any frantic flailing arms, or limp, drifting bodies. Harrington’s voice rang in his head, saying ‘she took the lower town, one day.’ And Thomas’, ‘You’ve killed us all.’ The water numbed his skin, and the remaining air in his lungs went sour. It was as dark with his eyes closed as open, and he closed them against the sting, curling into a ball as his shoulder thudded and scraped against something else, knocking bubbles out of his mouth. He saw something glint, and reached out, feeling the shape of a shell, and the broken chain.

He kept swimming, though he didn’t know which direction to go.