#Vlad will make him attend the gala anyway

[nelkcats]

Phantom Fever

When Danny left Amity he was pretty sure it would be a quick trip. He wasn't expecting a few days' visit to Gotham to check some annoying "co-workers" of Vlad's, a gala and a serious case of fever.

Being fair, Danny didn't know that ghosts could get sick, or how much damage this could do. His powers went completely haywire, activating and deactivating in the middle of the street, and it was only thanks to Vlad that he was able to come up with an excuse or two.

Vlad obviously didn't expect him to get sick either, if his disgusted face was anything to go by. The two had a truce of sorts but it was obvious they were only on friendly terms thanks to Jack Fenton.

Danny didn't feel like locking himself in a room and drinking soup. He wanted to call Frostbite, but he was too far away from the Realms, and the halfa refused to let Vlad check on him.

So he ended up on the streets of Gotham, spreading early winter and ice stalagmites in his wake. It was just luck that Vlad found him before the bats, who were obviously interested in the new development. Danny wondered how he was supposed to attend the gala in those conditions.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Demon Children Are Multiplying

This idea is still stuck in my head, and I might even end up writing something out of it, but for now, I just thought of something equally really, really stupid and really, really funny.

What if I combine that idea with Al Ghul Twins. I don't know how. Maybe Talia was cautious about Ra's not wanting to keep two kids for a position of Heir, or maybe she staged Danny's death, or maybe something else entirely happened. But anyway, Danny is Damian's twin.

Then, Dani is the same age as Danny in this AU. And Dan is de-aged to be the same age as both of them.

Now behold an absolute train wreck of a situation where Bruce attends a Gala hosted by Vladimir Masters. Together with Damian, of course, and maybe other batkids are there too. They all part their ways to make their rounds or whatnot. And they all keep seeing Damian wherever they go. Just everywhere.

Dick is talking to someone, and Damian walks past him, not paying him any attention. Which is not surprising, but a little rude, and, wait, wasn't he wearing a red tie? When did he change it to green one?

Tim is just going on the top floor to greet a lady he recognizes from some other event, and Damian all but storms in the opposite direction, only letting Tim catch a glimpse of his face. But when Tim turns around, he is really confused: the person running down the stairs is clearly a girl, albeit she is wearing a suit. Her long hair is up in a complicated braid. Why did he even mistake her for Damian?

But the ultimate confusion happens when Bruce is talking to Vladimir Masters, and a very familiar voice calls, "Father". Because both he and Vladimir turn to face the boy and ask, "Yes?" at the same time.

Damian is standing there, looking between Bruce and Vlad. He looks a little off somehow, but before Bruce can figure out why, the boy blinks and focuses on Vlad.

"We've been looking for you," he tells the man, and, wait, when was Damian looking for Masters? Furthermore, who is we?

But then another child comes closer. And-

That's Damian.

That's two Damians.

Wait, no, none of them are Damians.

"What is it?" Vladimir raises an eyebrow, not paying too much attention to Bruce's blanched expression.

A third child comes towards them, and this one also looks like Damian, only this one is a girl.

"Template's duplicate is here," she says, and Vlad frowns, turning to the Damian lookalike in the middle.

"Have you had another incident that I don't know of?"

Whatever answer the boy wanted to give is cut off by a n o t h e r child who looks like- no, this is real Damian, thank God, Bruce had started to wonder if the champagne was spiked with hallucinogens.

"Father-" he stops in his tracks as the three other children turn to him, and the four of them just stare at each other for a long moment. Then the one in the middle takes a sharp breath in and stage-whispers:

"Quick, do the meme!"

And all three not-Damians start pointing at each other.

Bruce is going to have an aneurysm. Judging by Vladimir's face, he is also not far from one.

Just my ramblings under the cut

I think you all know what meme I'm talking about, but I'm still gonna add it

This is so fucking hilarious to me, I'm sorry, I just can't

Danny is not missing this opportunity of a lifetime, even though Vlad specifically asked all three of them not to cause a scene. And yes, they all call Vlad "father" just for the spite of it or for shits and giggles. I'm going with Bad Fentons idea here, although I'm not sure to which degree they are bad, but anyway, Vlad is their legal guardian, and he is redeemed.

Yes, Dick took a picture. Yes, it's already in the group chat. Yes, other batkids are going wild.

Damian is greatly confused because, first, he thought there was a clone of him at the gala, but apparently, there were three of them, and second, why are they pointing at each other? Should he join them? He is under the assumption his brother is dead (he's not exactly wrong on that account), or he doesn't even know he existed.

This is as far as I got now, feel free to add anything!

[radiance1]

Danny is a ferret.

Do not ask how, do not ask why. The answer will never leave his lips so long as he swears it.

Anyways.

Danny has unfortunately lost his friends and family in the Nasty Burger Explosion a while before becoming a ferret, which understandable made him sad and in that sadness, he's been roaming around the ghost zone aimlessly (his family and friend's aren't ghosts).

Then he was thrusted into ferrethood.

A while later he finds himself a group of ferrets and, well.

Using his newfound power he go back to Vlad's mansion and causes CHAOS.

Vlad is, understandably, pissed at this. Not at the property damager per say. But because they interrupted his time where he just sat back, relaxed, let his hair down, pours himself a glass of wine and enjoys a cake for his own pleasure.

As well as mourning the loss of Madeline Fenton and, surprisingly, Jack Fenton.

He doesn't usually let himself relax and sink into grief, because he threw himself into work to avoid that most days. But today was the date of their death and, well, he sets aside a little time for that.

One of them has a far too familiar color scheme, and Vlad instantly clocks that it's Danny and asks why he's a ferret.

Danny doesn't answer.

So now Vlad finds himself living with a bunch of ferrets under his roof, his giant roof that could well hold much, much more than them.

But that's beside the point.

So Danny lives with Vlad here, mostly terrorizing the man on a daily basis while his ferret friends move in (and joining him on the grief day). Even funnier, the ferrets bring more ferrets over to Vlad's mansion, some ghosts and some others actually alive.

How did they bring alive ferrets over?

Don't question it.

Vlad has more than enough space for them, really, and no one told him anything until he actually saw one trying to steal his food. He then buys food for the alive ones, so they don't steal his food (and ingredients).

Vlad decides that, since Danny wants to be such a nuisance he might as well make himself useful. After all, a group of ferrets is called a business.

Danny gets placed in charge of a small portion of Vladco, then secretly starts buying up more ferrets to annoy Vlad. Somehow Vlad doesn't notice until it's too late and he's acquired a reputation for loving ferrets or something of the like. Danny does do actual work though, not as much as Vlad (since he's the CEO and all) but enough.

He also becomes a shareholder.

The second biggest shareholder in fact. Vlad is the biggest and Danny never actually thought Vlad had those but it made sense actually.

It was funny when the other shareholders realized that a ferret held more than them.

His work, while small, does get upgraded to of more importance than originally. Probably a move to try and give Danny less time to buy more ferrets.

It's for a good cause, Danny swears.

Then Vlad gets invited to a gala, one that has both Lex Luthor and the Waynes in attendance and Vlad yoinks Danny along, mostly to spite him. Because if Vlad was dealing with Lex, so will Danny because of the number of headaches he gave him.

He got him into a suit and everything, that was magical in nature so that, in case Danny suddenly decided he wanted to be human again the suit would fit itself accordingly (Would Danny have ferret ears and tail? Perhaps).

Danny? Didn't really see a problem with this (he's never met Lex Luthor) and decided that most people will probably just see him as some sort of pet Vlad really likes and such he won't have to talk with people. Though he probably won't be able to stray far from Vlad when he wants food, luckily, he can just poke at Vlad to carry him there instead.

[aph-mable]

dpxdc; My Uncle is Nuts.

My Uncle Is A Nut

Written by:

Aph-mable

@thegatorsgoose

Having been announced the heir and Co ceo of D.A.L.V co, Danny has gotten used to being dragged to formal events with Vlad against his will. Getting caught up in saving one of the many galas he’s forced to attend, Danny catches the eye of one Lex Luther. 

Chapter 1

Danny tries hard not to sigh for the umpteenth time as Vlad drags him towards another group of rich folks and reporters.

When his Godfather had publicly announced Danny as his heir during one of his mayoral speeches he thought he was going to die all over again from sheer embarrassment and frustration, especially when he started calling Danny out of class to work on ‘special’ projects or drag him to Gala’s like this one.  

Usually at least one member of team Phantom would come along, usually Sam since her parents often forced her to attend anyway, unfortunately this time everyone was busy.

Sure Danny could have asked, but he didn’t want to take away what little free time they had during spring break, so for now he was going to face this party on his own. After all nothing really interesting happens at these and he’s not going to end up socializing much anyways. 

At the moment Vlad had rolled him over to a group of men who were chatting away about their latest technology, a nerdy looking yet buff reporter taking notes on everything. 

Danny was only half listening to what was being said when the frootloop budged in, something about wanting to partner up with Wayne tech since DALV co was already partnered with Lex co.

He could only roll his eyes and cringe as his crazy arch nemesis wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the bald ceo who looked just as done as he felt.

Seeing Vlad finally to distracted with his deals Danny took his chance and snuck away, moving his wheelchair as fast as possible to make a break for it, away from the party and to explore the building. maybe even escape if he was lucky. 

Unfortunately as he reached one of the doors the pesky security stopped him, saying he needed to stay within the building, so he pulled out the oldest trick in his book. 

“I have to go to the bathroom, can you at least point me to it?” He even pulled out his pleading eyes to look as innocent as possible to make the security guards feel uncomfortable.

“It’s through those doors over there, just across from the kitchen… do you want-” before the guard could finish Danny was already zooming to the door and shouting, “No thanks, byye!” 

Once out of sight he at least made an effort to head towards where the bathroom was but stopped in front of the kitchen.

First double checking all sides of the hallway, he pushed himself into the kitchen in search of something to tinker with. Danny swears he will drop dead if he doesn't get some kind of technology in his hands. 

When he entered the place was completely empty of any staff. makes sense as they had set up a huge buffet in the main hall and had all the kitchen staff stand against the wall to show who cooked what, like it was some kind of grand show. 

This left Danny to ‘borrow’ a few appliances, they’re rich they can afford it!

He ends up taking a toaster, a blender, and some kind of cylinder air fryer, stuffing them all into his magic bigger-than-it-looks bag and bolting out of there as fast as his wheels could take him so as to not get caught. 

Once he re enters the gala he parks himself in the furthest corner near a window. He starts pulling out his mini tool kit and the items he took, trying his best to hide them by making them semi invisible so it just looked like he was messing with his tools as he gets to building an ecto gun. 

Danny tried to stay alert and scan the room on occasion but nothing much was happening, Vlad was still bragging to the group of men, and there were only three other kids around his age hanging out on the opposite side of the room. One looked ready to pass out while the other two stood next to the door arguing over who’s dog was best.

Danny pulled his goggles down over his eyes and rolled up his sleeves so his specialized gloves could start putting power into the ecto gun. He quickly starts to hyper focus as he tinkered with the homemade gun, his mind drifting off to play among stars that were just out of reach. 

Even with everyone talking around him it all faded to white noise, finally quiet enough he now focused his power to flow through the machinery as he twisted the screws into the right place. 

His very core sang with how peaceful it was as he finished making the home made ecto gun and set it down in his lap. 

Just as Danny turns it invisible to put it away, his chair is suddenly jerked as he’s dragged towards the now frightened guests, a group of men dressed in green and purple question marked suits threaten everyone into a corner as they start setting up strange equipment.  

Clutching his invisible weapon tightly in his lap one of the goons tries threatening him with a gun, but before Danny could react Vlad steps in front of Danny, letting out an instinctual growl to make them back off. 

The goon rolls his eyes before directing them to where he wants them to go, trying hard to not let his hands shake too badly as he thrust more people into the now overcrowded corner, keeping watchful eyes on Vlad who is seconds away from losing his temper and ripping someone's throat out.

Now most people in this situation would just listen to their captors, sit still, be quiet, all that jazz, especially with how many of the goons were now bringing in strange green canisters of gas that gave off the scent of pure fear.

Yet as Danny rams Vlad’s ankles with the wheels of his chair it's pretty clear he wasn’t like most scared civilians. For once he was siding with his godfather as he was very, very angry. Angry that they were targeting innocent people, angry that Vlad was treating him like he was helpless, angry that he had to show up to this stupid gala in the first place… He had noticed some of the other kids giving them the slip earlier, at least there’s that. 

Just as they bring in the last canister one of the goons trips and nearly brakes open the container, which got the already annoyed second incharge to yell at them. 

“For fucks sake! Be careful with those things, we don’t even know what they’ll do yet!”

The younger looking goon, who looks barely out of their teens, shrinks away as they whimper out an apology. He sets the items down as others around them either stare in frustration or sympathy. 

Yeah, no. 

 “Wow you people are pathetic.” 

The second in command turns at Danny’s outburst, taking a step forward and clenching his fists. “What the fuck did you just say?” Danny rolls his eyes before glaring at the goon “I said you’re pathetic, did you get that or do you need me to repeat myself again?”

The crowd looks on in half horror, half shock as the leader walks up to Danny, resting his hands on his arm rests and leaning down to stare at Danny threateningly. Danny leans back in his wheelchair and looks up at him with a bored expression, unphased. Vlad tries to shove his way to Danny, but is held back by several goons. Danny spares a quick glare at his godfather, he has everything under control.

“I may be a criminal, but even I don’t like kicking a kid when they’re already down.” The goon says, moving his eyes down to glance at Danny’s wheelchair and back up again, glaring into his eyes. “So I’m going to give you one last chance to take that back.”

Danny narrows his eyes at the goon as he clutchs the invisible ecto gun in his lap, it’s now or never. With near inhuman speed he quickly reaches for his bag and pretends to pull the weapon out, aiming it right at the goons temple. There’s audible gasps from the crowd as the goon stumbles away with wide eyes before gaining his footing and going right back to glaring.

“And I’m going to give you one last chance to reconsider what you’re doing with your life” Danny smirks at the goon, already reading up the lecture in his head.

“It’s 30 minutes past start time, what is taking you so-“ Danny’s smirk evolves into a full shit eating grin as the Riddler walks in to scold the goons, what perfect timing.

With the crowd distracted Danny uses his other hand to unlock his phone. With a few simple swipes, Danny has the gala on lockdown. With the main asshole inside.

Perfect.

_____________________________________________________________

Damian puts on his Robin suit with trained proficiency once they make it to the cave. Unfortunately he and Jon were the only ones able to leave on time, the rest of the family having been dragged away. Truly, this proved that he had good reason to not mingle with the crowd. It had nothing to do with the noise. Or the lights. Or the small talk.

Truly.

“Who do you think it is this time?” Jon asks, an excited smile on his face. But even while being carried, Damian could see the tension in his frame, the nervous tick in his brow. His friend was worried. “I mean, they have the question mark thing going on, but they also had the gas canisters which I don't think the Riddler does that? And the gas itself kinda smelled like lavender and hazelnuts like fear gas but it was also kinda minty? And not like candy cane minty but like straight mint leaf minty? I don’t know, I only know there’s a difference cus ma tried to make mint tea that one time cus she was super sleep deprived and she read online that mint tea could improve memory or something, that stuff reeked!” Another indication of Jon’s nervousness, rambling. By the time Jon had finished his rant, they had already made it to the gala.

Once he’s put down Damian dusts himself off and turns to Jon. “It is most likely a team up, then.” He pulls out his katanas and readys himself for the fight ahead. “Once you break down the door our job is to stall long enough for the others to get out. We don’t know what the gas can do, so keeping the containers safe is our top priority.” As much as it pains him to admit, just him and Jon won’t be enough to handle it themselves. There’s too many people, and they need some of the bats to disperse around Gotham in case the riddler has set up a larger plan.

Jon smiles at him and nods, hopping from foot to foot in excitement (which he doesn’t find adorable at all). “You ready?” Damian gives a sharp nod before Jon kicks in the door.

“-I mean COME ON, people would PAY you to have a chance at your game show! You could even do your whole “riddle me this!” Thing as it’s own segment! But noOOOOooo, you wanna risk the lives of countless civilians so you can get a fucking furry to answer your stupid riddles, most of which aren’t even original! And NOW you wanna partner up with a fear junky cus why?”

“I-“ a clearly startled Riddler tries to answer before being interrupted.

“Oh yeah, cus your BUDDY, your PAL scarecrow, thought it would be so FUNNY to release an UNTESTED gas in a gala for a fucking THRILL HIGH.”

But instead of a fight they walk into.. this.

 A wheelchair bound boy with black hair and blue eyes (who he’s sure his siblings would call “adoption bait”) holding a strange silver and green gun that looked straight out of one of Damian’s sci-fi mangas, at a confused and startled Riddler. It seems the crowd used this as an opportunity, as the rest of the goons were restrained near the walls by a mix of his family, Kent, and various gala attendees, while the middle of the room was occupied by the armed boy.

“Huh?” Jon let his arms rest at his sides as his head tilted to the side in confusion (it does NOT remind him of a confused puppy, absolutely not). However before Damian could say anything, it seems the boy has finally noticed them.

“Oh, you’re here. Took you long enough.” The boy finally puts the gun down and into a bag at his side. “Have fun.” He says in a bored tone as he turns and starts pushing himself in the direction of a man with silver hair, Vlad Masters, who met him in the middle only to start fussing over him, seemingly much to the boy’s annoyance.

Finally shaking off their shock both Damian and Jon rush to detain the Riddler until the police show up, yet Damian’s curiosity keeps bringing his eyes back to Master’s and his ward. outwardly, the concern seemed genuine, but with how the boy was reacting to just being touched by Master’s… made him think otherwise. 

Even Lex Luthor was side eyeing the man instead of resuming his chatter with father or Mr. Kent, meaning something was happening and Damain was determined to find it out one way or another. 

For now though, they have their hands full because of Riddler and Scarecrow.

Domain knew he should have stayed back with Ace. 

____________________________________________________________________________

End of chapter 1

[luxaofhesperides]

those who serve.

CHAPTER SEVEN: a wound.

previous chapter. full fic on ao3.

14k.... finish what ure doing first before u read this. this is ur only warning.

cw for this chapter: violence, injuries, nongraphic medical procedures

. . .

Danny gets one week to adjust to the reveal of the Wayne family’s night activities, on top of getting learning more and more each day to help Alfred. Then everything upends itself in the face of a gala taking place in the manor in ten days.

Most of the preparations have been taken care of by Alfred months in advance; renting out extra tables, chairs, and tablecloths, hiring catering, getting together press passes for attending reporters, and so much more. He kindly goes over each thing for Danny, reviewing the specifics of each group so Danny can have an idea of what to look for in the future. The amount of information he gets makes his head spin, and the prices of everything make him break out into a cold sweat.

Technically, Danny is joining the ranks of the rich with his new paycheck, but no amount of time will make him comfortable with such large numbers being attached to his bank account.

Ten days to the gala, Alfred shows Danny how to get blood out of white and light colored clothes. Tim, apparently, pulled some stitches after getting stabbed the night before, and bled through his shirt. 

Hydrogen peroxide is a life saver. It definitely would have been useful to have while he still lived in Amity Park.

He also discovers a love of ironing; watching the wrinkles in the fabric disappear is deeply satisfying in ways he can’t put to words. 

“I’d certainly be happy to pass on all ironing duties to you,” Alfred says, when Danny mentions this. “Just be careful not to burn yourself.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not that clumsy!” he replies, moving the iron across another shirt. Looking at Alfred, Danny miscalculates how far he’s moved the iron, and the edge of the hot metal touches his palm, pressing the shirt flat against the ironing board. He yelps, yanking his hand back, then gives Alfred a sheepish smile. “That doesn’t count.”

Alfred shakes his head with a fond smile, holding out a hand. “Let me see.”

Danny holds up his hand for Alfred to inspect. There’s no burn, barely any redness in the skin, but Danny draws some ice across the area anyways to keep Alfred from worrying.

“You could always iron using oven mitts,” Alfred suggests. “I believe we have some spare Batman themed ones in the kitchen.” His tone is so dry and even that it takes Danny a second to realize he’s joking.

“I would have accepted that if it wasn’t Batman themed,” he jokes back. “Anyone but him.”

“He’ll be heartbroken to hear that, I’m sure.”

Danny snickers and goes back to ironing, carefully keeping it away from his hand this time.

He’s not laughing when Alfred teaches him about formal suits that night, showing him each piece to the suit and how to properly wash, fold, and iron them, as well as how to put them on. And then he drops the bombshell of, “You’ll be getting your suit fitted tomorrow as well,” in the most casual tone possible for him.

Danny chokes on nothing and has to spend a minute clearing his throat before he can say, “Sorry, what did you just say?”

“You need to get fitted for a suit. Tomorrow. I have already made the appointment with a tailor I’ve worked with for many decades.”

“Cool, that’s what I thought you said. Is this required?”

“Yes, as you’ll be attending the gala as well. We are the two permanent members of the Wayne Manor staff. There will be eyes on us as we keep the event running smoothly, so it’s important to be well dressed.”

It makes sense when Alfred puts it like that, but Danny still has to smother his instinctive refusal. He’s only rented suits before for school dances, and those were never super comfortable. He avoids events that require suits, like formal conferences his parents are invited to, with an extended invite for family. Suits and wealth will always make him think first of Vlad. 

Maybe in time, he’ll associate those things more with the Waynes, but for now, Vlad is the face that comes to mind and Danny has to shove away the urge to run and hide.

“Not to worry,” Alfred adds, as Danny struggles to smooth out his expression from the pained grimace it twisted into, “You will not be going to this appointment alone.”

That’s not the part that Danny’s concerned about, but he still appreciates it. He’s definitely not ready to be alone in the city again, considering how his first time out with the Waynes ended with a hostage situation and a mall full of violent gangsters.

There’s not much anyone here can do for his own hangups, especially when they originate in another dimension. 

So Danny pastes on an unconvincing smile and gets back to work.

Nine days before the gala, Danny finds himself in a car with Bruce and Cass. Alfred had offered to drive them, but Bruce grabbed the keys before anyone else could and cheerily waved Alfred away. He was then told to not get another speeding ticket and to try to be a good role model for Danny.

Danny, whose only good role model is Jazz, looked away nonchalantly and acted like he didn’t hear that. 

It’s not like he needs good role models anyways. He’s doing just fine on his own!

Alfred doesn’t count because Alfred isn’t a role model as much as he’s an ideal Danny is striving for. Alfred is who Danny wants to be when he grows up. Now that he has a chance to grow up (relatively) safe, that is.

Cass had snickered at the three of them, then bodily shoved Danny into the backseat before climbing in after him.

Now, they’re going down the streets of Gotham, driving over a bridge, through neighborhoods, through run down districts that slowly get bigger and cleaner and visibly more suited for people with money. Bruce doesn’t drive recklessly, thankfully, despite Alfred’s warnings. 

Even so, Danny still clings to the car door, ready to throw himself out at a moment’s notice. He’s learned to bail quickly with his parents’ dangerous driving. 

“You alright back there?” Bruce asks, meeting Danny’s eyes briefly in the rearview mirror.

“Yep!” Danny chokes out. “Doing great!”

He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to regulate his breathing, counting slowly in an attempt to settle the wild beating of his heart. 

He wasn’t this bad in cars before. Even with his parents. He’s not sure what changed, but being in Gotham, after everything that’s happened, makes the small space of a car feel suffocating. The rocking of the car as it goes down bumpy roads would have once lulled him to sleep, but now makes his stomach roll and his chest go tight with panic. None of this is made better by having two observant and dangerous people watching his every reaction, no matter how small.

The radio is playing softly, simple background noise as Bruce drives them through Gotham. Danny tries to pay attention to it, to listen to the songs that come on, but his focus is completely shot. The noise keeps fading in and out of his ears.

“It’s okay,” Cass says softly. Her fingers skate over the back of his hand, making him jump. He blinks his eyes open to look at her. 

At some point, she’s taken off her seatbelt. Which isn’t safe! She needs to put it back on! 

Danny’s gone through the lessons and powerpoints back in Amity Park, when teachers tried to make sure he and his sister would be better drivers than their parents. Seatbelts help prevent severe injuries in car crashes, and there’s a reason they’re required by law.

Weakly, he shoves her back against the seat. Then he leans forward to reach past her, taking hold of the discarded seatbelt, and fastening it around her again.

“Keep that on,” he says around a gasp, his breath catching in his chest. His voice sounds weak and thready even to his ears, which means its bound to be even more concerning to her and Bruce.

“Do you need me to pull over?” Bruce asks, glancing back at him. “If you’re feeling sick, I can stop until you feel better.”

“No, just keep driving. The sooner we get to wherever it is we’re going, the better.”

Cass is frowning at him when he looks at her, ensuring the seatbelt is still on. “Why?” she asks, pointing at him.

That’s such a vague question! What is he supposed to answer! 

‘Why is he like this?’ ‘Why is he worked up about a seatbelt?’ ‘Why is he a mess?’

The answer to all those questions are the same: he doesn’t know!

The most he can do is offer Cass a weak shrug, so that’s what he does. Cass squints her eyes at him, then grabs his hands and lifts them up to start a clumsy game of patty cake. It quickly becomes apparent that she doesn’t actually know how to play patty cake and is instead clapping their hands together randomly with a look of confusion on her face, so Danny takes over, humming the song under his breath.

It helps distract him from the unreasonable panic of being trapped inside a car. That was probably her intention, but Cass is so focused on keeping up with their steadily quickening game of patty cake that it doesn’t feel like he’s being coddled. It just feels like this is normal, like they’re two kids passing time on a car ride.

Like they could be anyone else. People who are safe. People who haven’t been so hurt.

It’s almost a surprise when the car comes to a stop, Bruce smoothly pulling into a parking space with a reserved sign in front of it.

Danny opens his mouth to ask if it’s really alright that they park there, but can’t say a word before Cass smacks his hands down. When he looks at her, she rubs her fingers together in the universal sign for money and gives him an impish grin.

That’s right, Bruce is rich enough that he can get away with anything. Who cares who that reserved sign is for? Bruce can just buy them a new parking lot. 

That won’t stop the whole thing from leaving a bad taste in his mouth, but at least it’ll be easier to ignore.

Cass hops out the car and skips around the open the door on his side, holding out a hand to help him out. 

He takes it and lets her yank him out of the car. She doesn’t bother waiting for Bruce before dragging Danny into a fancy looking store, the outside all black brick and large, reflective windows. He doesn’t get a chance to see the name of the store, pulled in too fast by Cass’s enthusiasm.

She all but throws open the door, the bell above them ringing merrily, and leads him inside. The dark wood floor and fancy lights immediately make Danny feel out of place. The racks of fancy clothing on display and the mannequins all dressed up in suits of various dark colors only make him feel more like he doesn’t belong in there. 

“Hello, hello, welcome!” calls out an employee. She wears a dark green apron with a notepad tucked into the front pocket and a pin cushion on her wrist. “Are you just browsing today, or do you have an appointment?”

“We have an appointment for Danny,” Bruce answers, somehow appearing behind them. Danny squeezes Cass’s hand to hold back his flinch; he’d really love if the man would make some noise when he moves. 

Did the bell over the door even ring when Bruce came in?

“Great! Follow me, I’ll get you into a fitting room and then let Mr. Brownstein know you’re here.” She leads them through a door near the back of the store, leading to a short hallway with three numbered doors in them. 

They’re given room one, which looks more like a lounge than a fitting room. Beyond the couch and armchairs is a round platform with floor length mirrors surrounding it on three sides. Past that is an area that looks like a large dressing room with only a curtain to separate it from the rest of the room. 

Bruce wastes no time in sitting down on the couch with a low grunt. Apparently not even vigilantism and constant training can save him from old man joints. 

Cass lets go of Danny’s hand to flit around the room, then grabs a few magazines and sits next to Bruce, flipping through them quickly. 

Left on his own, Danny stands near the door awkwardly before he forces himself to join them, sitting on one of the armchairs to keep some space between them. 

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks as soon as Danny’s gotten comfortable.

Danny shrugs. “Fine. Just… not used to this.” He gestures vaguely to everything around them and Bruce nods as if this makes sense.

“I understand that this can be a lot,” he says, “But we’ll do all we can to make things go smoothly for you.”

“Will be normal… time?” Cass adds, looking to Bruce for help.

She signs something and Bruce helpfully supplies, “Eventually.”

“Yes! Even-tu-ally.”

“I don’t know if anyone ever gets used to this. The being rich thing and your hobbies.”

“Plenty of us in the know have had to adjust to this life, you’re not alone in that.”

Danny squints at Bruce. “I highly doubt any of you were normal before doing what you do.”

Bruce opens his mouth to refute that, thinks about it, then closes his mouth and slowly nods. “That is a fair point. What’s normal for Gotham is hardly normal for anyone else.”

“No, no, this is not a Gotham specific thing. This is a Wayne and associates specific thing.”

“You are in that,” Cass says. “Not normal.”

“I think I’ve made it very clear that I am not normal. But I wasn’t insanely rich! That changes things!”

“No,” Cass says firmly, agreeing. “Not normal. Better that way.”

A knock on the door sounds through the room before they can get into it anymore. The door opens just a second later and an old man with heavyset wrinkles, white hair, and a fancy looking black cane with the handle done in gold, enters with a smile.

“Ah, Mr. Wayne, how lovely to see you again.” He’s got the same accent as Alfred, the same even, unflappable tone.

“Davey!” Bruce stands with a grin, his voice turning loud and energetic. It’s such a change from how Danny’s used to seeing him that he can’t do anything but stare at the man in shock. Bruce shakes Davey’s hand in big up and down sweeps, full of cheer.

Gone is the calm, steady, intimidating presence Danny is used to. In its place is some guy with a good attitude and not much else in his head.

“So good to see you again,” Bruce continues, dropping the handshake in favor of patting him on the back. 

“I do hope you haven’t wrecked any of your suits recently. I was hoping to go more than a few months between tailoring new suits for you.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll be happy to know all my suits are in perfect condition! We’re here for someone new, anyways.” 

Taking his cue, Danny stands up and gives a small wave. “Hi,” he says rather weakly.

Davey lights up, striding across the room to take Danny’s hand in his, giving it a vigorous shake. “You must be the boy Alfred’s taken in! Such a pleasure to meet you lad, I’ve heard only good things about you.”

“You know Alfred?”

“Know him? I grew up in the same neighborhood as him in England, and he’s the one who helped me set up shop here in Gotham back in the 80s. I’ve gotten ahead of myself.” He shakes his head and steps back, giving Danny some breathing room. “David Brownstein, at your service.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Brownstein. I’m Danny.”

“Call me David. Any friend of Alfred is a friend of mine. Now, I hear you’re in need of a suit?”

“Yeah, there’s a gala soon and I don’t have anything formal or like… professional to wear to it.”

“Make him pretty!” Cass demands, clapping her hands together in delight. 

David nods to her. “I intend to, Miss Cassandra. Let’s begin, shall we?”

In no time at all, Danny is standing on the round platform in a black suit, trying his best to be as still as possible. He’s stopped breathing completely so he doesn’t accidentally disturb David where he’s pinning his left pant leg to better fit him. The fabric is soft and smooth, higher quality than literally anything else he’s ever worn in his life. 

When he glances into one of the many mirrors around him, he has to admit that he looks good.

To be fair, though, everyone looks good in a suit. 

It’s just so far beyond his normal that it feels like he’s looking at someone else in the mirror. To think that just a few weeks ago, he as a homeless teenager living on the streets with only the clothes on his back. Now he’s getting fitted for a designer suit that probably costs more than his entire college fund.

Bruce left the room at some point and Danny has no idea where he could be. Cass is still around, though she disappears every so often, then pops back in wearing a beautiful dress that she presents to him for his opinion.

Danny gives her a thumbs up every time while also trying to keep his arms still. 

Near the end of his appointment, she walks into the room with a bunch of silk ties in different colors and patterns draped over one arm. She holds up each one in front of her face, looks between the ties and Danny, then either tosses them onto the couch or puts them back on her arm. The ones she keeps on her arms, she yanks at each one, then wraps them around her neck and tries to choke herself with them.

This, apparently, is part of the selection process, and she tosses a few more to the couch. 

He’s… not sure he wants to know why she’s considering which tie would be best to strangle someone with. That’s not a problem Danny has to deal with. It’s not in his job description.

Bruce conveniently reappears once Danny carefully changes back out of the suit. The thought of trying not to disturb the pins or chalk lines is so stressful that Danny just phased out of them once the curtain was drawn, so they’re all as untouched as they can be. 

He passes the suit to David, who leaves quickly with a goodbye tossed over his shoulder to the three of them. Cass hands three ties to Bruce, who stops by the register to get them paid for and packed up before they leave the store. 

They head back to the manor soon after. Danny’s grateful to be done, even as he spends the entire drive with his head between his knees, trying to pretend he’s anywhere else.

“How was it?” Alfred asks once Danny’s joined him in the kitchen to help with dinner. 

“Fine. David was nice. Also, I’m not sure if Cass wants to strangle me or not.”

“She’s like that sometimes,” Alfred says, then smoothly pivots the conversation into a new direction and they both silently decide to move on and pretend everything’s fine.

Eight days before the gala, Damian pops up while Danny’s removing dead leaves from the indoor plants. He hovers over Danny’s shoulder completely silent while Danny works, unaware, until Damian says, “Stop what you’re doing.”

“Shit!” Danny jumps, throwing dead leaves into the air, and goes intangible. His feet sink into the floor before he catches himself and flies up, floating in the air with a hand on his chest to keep his half-dead heart from escaping.

Damian stares at him, unimpressed. He looks at the dead leaves on the ground, then at Danny, and sighs.

“What?” Danny says, flustered. “You scared me! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“It’s hardly my fault you lack awareness of your surroundings.”

“Yeah, whatever. Did you need something?” Danny floats back down to the floor, tangible once again, and kneels down to clean up his mess.

After a moment of brief hesitation, Damian joins him, carefully gathering up the dead leaves closest to him.

Any annoyance Danny has at being scared like that fizzles away instantly with that little gesture. 

Damian is blunt and full of jagged edges, but he’s not unkind. 

“Has anyone shown you the emergency supply caches or escapes routes?”

Danny vaguely recalls Damian mentioning the caches but nothing else. And Danny hasn’t exactly been going out of his way to spend time with anyone but Alfred, who is busy enough teaching him how to handle all his new butler duties. 

He shakes his head, gathering up the very last leaves, the smallest of the bunch, then stands up. Damian follows suit with a disapproving click of his tongue. “I suppose I will have to do it then. Come, let us begin.”

“Woah, wait, we gotta throw these away first!” Danny tries to take the bundle of dead leaves in Damian’s hands from him, but he turns, keeping his hands out of reach with a scowl.

“Fine. You don’t need to do it for me. I’m not incapable of basic tasks.”

That was not at all what he meant by that, but okay! Danny decides to move on from that and dumps the dead leaves into the small trash bag he’s been carrying around for this task. Then he holds it out for Damian to do the same. 

Having taken care of that, Danny has no more excuses and is quickly taken on a trip around the Manor with Damian, who points out all the hidden emergency caches. 

There are so many. If Danny didn’t know about they’re vigilante activities, he would have been convinced that the Waynes were secretly doomsday preppers. 

Some are hidden in panels in the walls. Others beneath floorboards. Some behind large paintings. 

“You must carefully memorize which paintings are emergency caches. There are some paintings within the Manor that lead to secret passageways or panic rooms,” Damian says. 

“How the hell did this place get built that you guys have so many secret, hidden things in it?”

“Very carefully.”

Damian puts a hand on a panel in the wall in the next hallway and pushes against it. The wood falls back and opens silently, revealing a small space with a first aid kit, six gas masks of various sizes, and three tasers. Danny carefully takes note of the location and tries to memorize a few details around the cache so he can find it again later. 

They go through the entire manor, even unused rooms and halls, the attic, and areas that the Wayne family allows outsiders to access when they open their doors. 

Escape routes follow next, but take much less time when Danny reminds Damian that he can just fly out of the Manor whenever he wants. Danny himself is an escape route. Still, he memorizes some that go from the ballroom to the back of the manor in case he needs to evacuate people. 

“Now,” Damian says as they come to a stop in front of the grand staircase in the foyer, “Walk to every emergency cache you can remember.”

“Oh, come on,” Danny groans. “There’s no way I’m going to remember any correctly.”

“Which is why we’re doing this. If we put it off, then you won’t learn until it’s far too late.”

That doesn’t sound too bad, since Danny’s been learning on the fly since the Accident. Half the reason he managed to do what he did as Phantom was because he had no choice but to learn as he went, thrown into fights he wasn’t prepared for. It’s never gone too badly before, and he’s always been able to get out of things relatively fine. 

Then again, Gotham is much more dangerous than Amity Park. It’s not ghosts that are causing the problems here, but living people who have no qualms about killing. Danny rarely ever had to hold back his strength with ghosts; they were already dead, they could take a hit.

But here?

If Danny isn’t careful, he could kill people here. Even if he doesn’t mean too. 

He remembers how strong he felt when stopping that mugger from hurting Alfred. How fragile and small the gangster who attacked him and Dick in the mall felt trapped beneath his foot. 

In Amity Park, Danny was just another ghost.

Here in Gotham, Danny is a monster. 

Damian’s right. It’s better he be prepared so he can act more carefully, have more options at his disposal instead of just working off panicked instinct.

“Alright,” he sighs. “Just don’t be too upset when I can’t find more than one.”

Damian stares him down with hard, serious eyes, but something about the downturn of his lips makes him look more awkward than intimidating. “You are a civilian who has only just begun to learn everything about the Manor. I’m not expecting much from you.”

The words, by themselves, are harsh, but Danny can hear what he really means: You don’t have to get it perfect, you just need to know enough to be safe.

“Okay. Should we start from here?”

Damian nods, and so the roles reverse and Danny leads them around the Manor, trying to remember as many emergency cache locations as possible. He gets more than he expected, around seven correctly and six more with some hesitation and poking around in areas he knows something is hidden, but he’s not 100% sure where.

He expects that to be the end of it, but Damian just nods thoughtfully and takes the lead again, showing Danny all the caches he missed. It takes up the rest of the day, but Alfred didn’t mind when he rushed to the kitchen afterwards to help finish dinner.

The next five days are spent deep cleaning the Manor, mostly in areas where there will be high traffic, and making sure anything Bat related or generally suspicious is hidden away. He doesn’t see the Waynes much at all outside of meals, and even then it’s only Bruce, Damian, and Cass that show up regularly. Everyone else appears at random, no rhyme or reason as to when they decide to sit down to eat with the rest of the family. 

He overhears stern reminders to be careful on patrols, for the Waynes joining Bruce to make sure their clothes are ready and any needed cover stories are made and memorized. The others tease the poor souls forced to host the gala with Bruce, flaunting the fact that they get to go out and patrol like normal instead of pandering to the crowd of deeply annoying elite folk. 

None of what they say make Danny feel any better about having to work the gala.

He tries to channel his nerves into work, always finding something to do in order to keep his mind from wondering about all the things that could go wrong at the gala and spiraling. The giant crystal chandelier in the ballroom is sparkling from how thoroughly Danny’s cleaned it. 

Alfred handles all the logistical tasks, smoothing out last minute hiccups and answering questions from caterers and hired security. The ease with which he works through things has Danny in awe, hoping to one day be as capable as he is. 

Two days before the gala, his suit is delivered to the Manor. Cass somehow gets a hold of it first and ambushes Danny as he walks into the kitchen, holding a basket full of bell peppers and tomatoes. 

“Your suit!” she announces, suddenly in his face as he turns around from closing the door. One of her hands darts out and holds the basket up from the bottom, keeping any of his garden harvest from falling onto the floor as Danny freezes and tries not to jump back and bang his head into the door.

Once she’s sure he’s got his balance back, Cass steps back, presents his suit on a hanger to him, and says again, “Your suit.”

“Thanks, Cass. This couldn’t wait until I wasn’t holding stuff?”

“Nope. Go put it on!”

She smoothly takes the basket from his hands and replaces it with the suit. Then she uses her shoulder to push Danny away from the door and out of the kitchen, ending with a light, playful kick to his back.

Well. He’s no longer making spaghetti, apparently. 

With nothing else to do and no reason to deny Cass, Danny heads off to his room to get changed. He doesn’t quite remember all of Alfred’s instructions on how to put on a suit properly, so he has to look it up on his phone. It’s a long process to lay out the suit in all its pieces and then put them on in order, looking between his phone and the mirror to make sure he’s doing it right.

The only thing he doesn’t have is some sort of necktie. He’s pretty sure butlers wear little black bowties, but that could just be a movie thing. He’s pretty sure it’s what James Bond wears, anyways, which isn’t quite the look he’s going for. 

Once he’s got the suit on as well as he can manage, Danny takes a look at himself in the mirror.

He’s still pretty thin despite his appetite growing and his stomach being able to handle larger, richer meals. There’s a paleness to his skin that will probably always be there, making him look washed out and slightly drowned. His hair is a mess, as it always is, but in the suit, it looks more like a style choice than a consequence of his refusal to touch a hair brush in the mornings when he makes breakfast for himself and Alfred. 

He doesn’t look half bad. 

And the suit is fitted to him perfectly. Nothing is too tight or too loose. Everything falls where it should comfortably. 

Satisfied with his efforts to dress himself properly, Danny gets back to the kitchen to let Cass see him. It’s easier to fly through the walls than make his way down the winding hallways, so that’s what he does, passing by a startled Tim who must have just come up from the Batcave. 

Cass is sitting on the counter when he returns, kicking out her legs idly. She lights up when she spots him and claps her hands together in delight. “Nice!” she says, giving him a thumbs up.

“Thanks. I don’t have a tie or anything, so it’s not really a complete look.”

“We got ties,” she says.

“Uh, when?”

She waves a hand vaguely. “At the store. With your suit.”

Well. Bruce did buy some ties, but Danny hasn’t seen them since so he assumed they weren’t for him. For all he knows, they’re for Cass. She was the one checking them to see how well they could strangle people. He’s not really sure he wants those ties, if they’re going to be used as improvised weapons.

“I didn’t know any of those were mine. I definitely haven’t seen them since we got back.”

“Oh. I forgot.” Cass hops off the counter and says, “Stay here!” Then she’s gone, disappearing back into the depths of the manor.

“Sure, I guess,” Danny replies to no one. He stares forlornly at the basket of bell peppers and tomatoes on the counter. He would get started on the sauce if he could, but he doesn’t trust himself to keep his new and expensive suit clean while he cooks, so all he can do is look longingly at the work he should be doing.

He doesn’t wait as long as he expected to. Cass must have made use of those hidden passageways scattered all along the Manor to get back to him so quickly, three ties in hand. Or she’s just fast. One or the other.

“Here!” she says, presenting them to him. 

Danny looks them over, reaching out to feel them. They must be made of silk for how soft and smooth they are. 

One of the ties is a deep blue color with gold thread providing some embellishments. Another is a simple red, one solid color. 

It’s the last tie that holds Danny’s attention. Black with silver thread stars and planets and celestial bodies, carefully placed on the length of the tie. He’s never thought much about ties, much less about their designs, but he’s obsessed with this one. It’s perfect for him.

Cass must clock his interest in the last tie. She tosses the other two over her shoulder, then reaches out to flip his collar up. The tie goes around his neck and she ties it loosely, clearly unsure of how to properly tie it, but doing her best anyways.

Once done, she looks it over before she nods, satisfied. “Good.”

Danny looks down to lift up one lopsided end of the knot she’s made with the tie. “Thanks, Cass. This one’s great. Can I ask why you tested these three for strangling capabilities?”

She shakes her head. “Not for harming,” she explains. 

“Uh… strangling is very harmful. And that’s definitely what it looked like to me.”

She shakes her head again, stronger. With one hand, she takes one of the ties on her shoulder and loops it around her neck. “Picked the ones that won’t be bad. Hard to hurt with these. Try.” And Cass offers one end of her makeshift tie noose to Danny.

He stares. “No, thanks.”

“I’ll do it then.”

“Don’t!”

Cass grins at him, all teeth and challenge. “Stop me.”

And she yanks with all her strength, harder than she did at the tailor’s, genuinely trying to strangle herself with this silk tie. Danny chokes on his breath and scrambles to stop her, grabbing her wrist and struggling to pry the tie out of her fist. She doesn’t let him stop her, pulling harder, her grip iron and unmovable.

Danny, in a moment of panic, shoves his fingers between the tie and her throat, creating space, then makes the tie go intangible, finally freeing it from her grasp. 

“Please,” he begs, “Do not try to kill yourself in front of me.”

“Woah, what?” Tim asks, having chosen the absolute worst time to walk into the kitchen.

Cass waves at him. “Testing,” she says, pointing at the tie, the wraps her hands around her neck and mimes being strangled to death.

“Oh. I see.” Based on the way Tim is blinking at them, befuddled, he definitely doesn’t see. “Why silk ties? Those are the worst for strangulation. They slip too much.”

Danny stares down at the tie he liberated from Cass’s grasp. Slowly, he wraps on end around his wrist, ties it off, then pulls with what’s left of the tail. 

Sure enough, the tie slips along his wrist and against itself. It still pulls tight, but not as strongly as he thought it would.

So this is what Cass meant when she said these were safe. The ties she chose must be what she decided were least capable of strangling him.

It’s actually kind of sweet that she went out of her way to find something specifically so it wouldn’t be used to hurt him too much. As strange as the whole process was, he can’t deny that he’s touched by the effort she put into this.

“Unless that’s the point,” Tim continues, looking between the two of them. “Nice suit, Danny, you look great. Have you figured out where to hide weapons in it yet?”

“What? Why would I do that?”

“In case you get attacked. Always a risk at galas.”

“Are the rich people going to attack me or something?”

“No, no! Probably. But that many rich people in once place, especially in Wayne Manor, makes the gala a huge target for anyone wanting to rob us or take someone for ransom. But maybe be wary of the rich people too, there’s some really creepy old guys that are somehow still kicking.”

“Great,” Danny says weakly, “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be able to keep you safe. So, weapons?”

“I don’t think I need any. I have powers, remember?”

“And you can fight with them?” Tim presses.

“Fighting’s all I’ve ever really done with them, so yes.”

“I’ll take your word for it then. But remember, plenty of us will be there in case anything goes wrong, and we’ll have plenty of security around. I’m sure the gala will go fine.”

Cass points an accusing finger at Tim. “Jinx!”

He winces. “Ah. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have said that. My bad.”

“Well, as long as I don’t have to fight rich people,” Danny tries to joke, only to blanch when Tim moves his hand in a ‘maybe-so’ back and forth motion. “I don’t have to fight rich people, right? I thought we already agreed on that!”

“You probably don’t have to fight rich people,” Tim corrects, “But there was a cult situation years ago. Like, when I was in elementary school, but B took care of it so it’s not a problem anymore. Not that it would stop them from making more cults, but we haven’t seen any recently. So.”

Danny stares at him, a little horrified. “Man, what the hell is Gotham?”

Tim and Cass snicker, as if this isn’t the reality they grew up in. “Don’t worry,” Tim says, “You’ll get used to it soon enough.”

“Ancients help me when that day comes,” Danny mutters.

He leaves them to steal snacks from the kitchen as he changes back out of the suit and is graced with their company as he makes two pots worth of spaghetti, smacking their hands with a wooden spoon when they try to sneak a taste of the sauce. 

And then, suddenly, the day of the gala of here. Danny can only hope it doesn’t end too terribly.

. . .

“The first guests will likely arrive around seven in the evening,” Alfred says as they make their final rounds to ensure the ballrooms and sitting rooms are all ready for the elite of Gotham. “Preparations will begin at noon. Security will arrive first. They have all received instructions onto where they should be. Be on the look out for anyone going to places closed to the private; we have had many people in the past be bribed to steal from us while had them employed for an event.”

“What should I do if I do find someone out of place?”

“First, try to escort them back to where they should be. If they resist, then do whatever you deem necessary.”

“And when you say ‘anything necessary,’ does that include…”

Alfred stops to look Danny directly in the eyes as he firmly says, “Anything.” And then continues walking as if that didn’t just happen. Danny hurries to follow, putting into practice his newest, most important skill of moving right on past that shit.

“Tables and chairs for the ballroom will arrive at one. I’ve printed out the layout they need to be placed in. The rental company has a copy of these instructions, so all you need to do is oversee the set up. Catering will arrive at five to set up, cook, and have food out and ready for guests.”

“Do I have to greet any of the guests?”

“Not at all. Master Bruce has that responsibility. I will be taking care of coats and bags for guests. I will need you to direct cars to the drop off point in front of the ballroom entrance.”

“Everyone’s being dropped off?”

“That is correct. You don’t need to worry about arranging rides for anyone, as that is something they have to do themselves.”

Okay. Cool. It’s still stressful, still a lot that Danny has to be in charge of, but it’s not as overwhelming as he thought it would be. Alfred hasn’t given him too much to do, and all of it is easy enough for him to take care of with his current skill levels. As long as no guests come up to him demanding he do stuff for them, he should be fine.

They split up after they leave the ballroom to put up the velvet ropes that will hopefully keep people from wandering into places they aren’t allowed to be. From what he’s heard, it shouldn’t be a problem except with particularly drunk guests. The Wayne family is big and important in Gotham, enough so that any and all guests will be careful to be respectful while attending the gala. 

Danny double checks the list he was given of where to place the rope barriers, double checking that he got all of them. 

After that, it’s a flurry of tasks to be completed, last minute details to fix, and preparing lunch for everyone so no one goes hungry until the gala begins.

In no time at all, security arrives and Danny is tasked with directing them to their positions, helping them review their routes to keep the venue safe. It’s off putting to be the one listened to when he’s so much younger than everyone, but none of the hired security guards act like anything’s out of the ordinary while with him. It’s probably just in his own head, but it still feels wrong.

Tables and chairs arrive after that, and Danny helps them get to where they need to be placed. He helps with moving some of the tables as well, putting his enhanced strength to good use so the other workers don’t have to struggle so much. Tablecloths are set out, carefully smoothed of wrinkles. Floral centerpieces follow.

There’s only one near miss with two workers crashing into each other and the centerpiece—with its glass vase—goes flying amid the horrified gasps of the others. Danny had just managed to catch it in time, moving on instinct honed from years of ghost fights.

The relief on everyone’s faces helped him feel more at ease working with them.

By the time they’re done and everything is where it should be, properly put together, the catering arrives, bringing with them another flurry of movement and energy.

Danny lets himself get swept up in it, helping where he can. He almost doesn’t notice how late it’s gotten until Alfred appears at the entrance to the ballroom and looks at him expectantly. 

Everything is as set up as it could be. The rest of the staff are now to act as waiters, basically, carting around drinks and finger foods for the elite. Danny will just get underfoot if he stays.

He leaves with a quick goodbye and is waved off by more people than he expected. 

Alfred falls into step with him as they make their way to the servant’s quarters to get changed into the gala suits. Before they part ways to go into their own rooms, Alfred gently claps a hand against Danny’s back.

“Well done,” he says warmly when Danny looks at him. He looks proud of Danny, so proud that it makes Danny’s eyes well up with tears he hurries to dash away. 

“Thanks!” he returns with a bright smile, and ducks into his room to try to get his emotions under control before he has to meet a bunch of rich people with red eyes and tear tracks on his face.

To think he can be undone so easily with just two words.

Jazz would probably have a whole lot to say about that. He misses her psychoanalyzing annoying big sister attitude so badly it hurts, a wound that will never heal. He hopes she’s doing alright wherever she is now. He’s ruined enough of her life, he’d like it if his disappearance doesn’t hurt her too much.

Taking in a deep breath, Danny shoves away all thoughts of home and family. He needs to focus. He’s here to do a job. He needs to make sure the gala goes smoothly.

Step one of that plan is to put on his suit and fix his hair so he looks more put together and less on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

He completes step one more or less successful. The only thing he can’t do is knot his tie nicely, and no video tutorials he watches really helps. With the time limit he’s on, Danny just gives up and decides to ask Alfred for help.

Alfred is already in the hallway waiting for him when Danny opens his door. He holds up his tie with a sheepish smile. “So, I don’t actually know what to do with this…?”

Alfred’s eyes soften and he waves Danny over. “Allow me.” 

He takes the tie from Danny’s hands and flips up his collar. With clean, precise movements, he has the tie around Danny’s neck and neatly knotted into what is probably a fancy shape that Danny will never be able to recreate. Then his collar is smoothed down again by Alfred’s hands, which quickly move to straighten out the lapels of his suit. 

“There we are,” he says. “And look at you now: a proper butler of the Wayne family.”

A warmth settles deep in his chest. There’s joy, rising on strong wings, that sweeps through him. 

He’s still an apprentice.  He still has so much to learn. But tonight, he will go out as the future butler of the Wayne family. That is how this world will know him. Alfred has carved out a place in this foreign dimension just for him, and finally Danny feels like he can take it, settle in, finally belong here beyond just a charity case taken in from the streets.

“Are you ready to work your first official event?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Danny replies, standing taller. 

“I’m glad to hear it. And Danny, if you ever need a break, you can hide away in the kitchen for as long as you need. I’ll be sure to join you in there eventually.”

“Got it!” And then, softer, “Thanks, Alfred.”

“But of course, Danny. Tonight will be busy. It may even be overwhelming. But I will be there for you should you ever need me.”

Danny nods, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn’t start crying. He had been doing so good too! But Alfred’s honest words always throw him off balance. 

He has no defense against Alfred’s kindness. That’s how he ended up here in the first place. Pulling himself together with nothing but stubbornness and sheer will power, Danny lets out a steady breath, then starts walking. Alfred joins him as they return to the ballroom and gives him one more pat on the back before splitting off to tend to his own gala duties.

Left alone in the ballroom, surrounded by the bustle of staff finishing up their last minute tasks, Danny takes in the glittering opulence of the place; this isn’t the warm, lived in Wayne Manor full of history and family and comfort. This is cold and sharp, all gold and bright lights, a stage for false personalities and masks to take the spotlight for the night.

A group of musicians in the back of the ballroom fill the air with the sound of strings and flutes as they tune their instruments and prepare to play for hours on end. 

Food is set up and serving stations all have someone behind them, standing with their hands behind their back as they wait for the first guests to trickle in.

It’s nearly seven. Danny hurries outside, ready to wave drivers towards him, directing them down the gravel path that branches off from the main driveway that goes to the front door of Wayne Manor. It takes barely a few minutes before he sees the first headlights make their way down the makeshift road. 

Danny waves a hand in the air and the driver stops right in front of him. An old couple dressed lavishly get out of the car and stand together, arm in arm.

“Oh, who’s this?” the old woman coos, looking at him. 

Danny gives her a tight smile. “Hello, and welcome! I’m Danny, the apprentice butler to the Wayne family.”

“How darling,” she says, pressing a hand against her chest. “It’s been too long since I’ve met a young man like you learning the art of butling. Why, my own family had an apprentice back when I was in college, and he went off to serve a family in Spain that was closely related to the Spanish royal family.”

“That’s cool,” Danny replies, trying to hide how awkward he feels. “I think I’m going to stay with the Wayne family, though. I’m not that ambitious.”

“Waynes are close to royals in Gotham. They’re the most important family in the city. Why, I remember when Martha and Thomas were killed in Park Row. It was a dark day for us all…”

Woah, what? That’s the first time he’s heard of any murders happening in the Wayne family.

Some of his shock must shown on his face, as the old couple suddenly look more engage, more eager to talk to him.

“Why don’t you escort us in, son,” the old man says, “And we’ll tell you about it was we walk.” 

The couple begin to slowly walk to the Manor, slow with age though they still hold themselves tall. Danny falls in step with them and the man begins to weave a tale about a much younger Bruce Wayne and the parents who loved him so dearly, and how the sudden, tragic loss of them rocked the world.

Danny doubts he ever would have found out about this on his own. And he certainly won’t have known the impact the Waynes have had on Gotham. The fact that their lives and deaths mold the city is a heavy realization.

The couple keep him at the door to the ballroom for a few minutes to wrap up their story. Danny glances out over the grounds every so often to make sure there aren’t any headlights in the distance coming his way until they thank him for the escort and go inside, leaving him to wait for more guests.

He never really thought about why the Waynes go out each night as vigilantes. It’s dangerous, thankless work and no one would do it without a reason.

He can see, suddenly, a young Bruce, just a child, suddenly lost and adrift in a world that murdered his parents. He can see that child decide to fight back in any way he can. He can see Batman rise from the heart of that child and swear to prevent anyone else from experiencing the pain he had to survive. 

And he can see Alfred standing behind that boy, carrying his own grief as he takes care of a child who grows up ready to throw his life away for a cause far greater than himself. 

How they can bear it?

Danny is both the one who left and the one left behind, running from his parents just as they turned their backs on him, and it destroyed him. He’s only just now building himself back up again, feeling more stable and steady despite the hole in his heart that will never close. At least he got the privilege of starting fresh in this dimension. Bruce and Alfred had to grow around the loss that is embedded into the city.

He really doesn’t know much about them, he realizes. This is the first time he’s really considered their histories. 

Maybe Alfred will be willing to talk to him about it later. 

With those thoughts heavy on his mind, it’s hard from him to be fully focused as he directs cars to stop before him one by one. More guests in fancy suits and elegant dresses step out and walk into the ballroom, only a few bothering to greet him as they go. His mind keeps drifting as he pastes on a smile and waves to drivers as they leave.

He stays outside for another hour before the last of the cars leave. The gala is in full swing when he ducks inside, sticking to the walls as Gotham’s richest mingle together in the ballroom. The low murmur of voices fill the air alongside the music, high strings playing a soft melody to fill the background as people wander around with glasses of champagne in hand, nibbling on finger foods.

Bruce is the center of attention, smiling jovially in a dark blue suit, the first two buttons of his silk shirt undone. 

It’s hard to see him as a once grieving child, full of rage and determination, ready to take on the world. Bruce as he is now looks like a perfect socialite, surrounded by a small crowd of people all vying for his attention as he talks loudly, gesturing with broad movements, keeping their attention. 

Tim is hanging off to the side near the musician, talking to a small group of people his age. They all look more relaxed and down to earth than any of the older people, so perhaps there’s hope for the next generation of Gotham’s high society.

Danny wanders a bit to make sure everything’s going well, checking in with the other staff members to see if there’s anything he can help with. But they have everything under control, so he can do nothing but try not to mess with the sleeves of his suit as he keeps circling the ballroom.

On his third circuit, Tim breaks away from his group and weaves around other guests to smoothly reach him.

“Is Damian here?” he asks, eyes darting around the ballroom.

Danny frowns. “I haven’t seen him. Did he come in with you?”

“He did, and then he left us as soon as we had greeted most of the guests. He’s supposed to stay out here for a few more hours, and I told him to just stick with me.”

“Where do you think he’s gone?”

Tim sighs, lowering his voice a bit. “He could be anywhere, honestly. He hates galas, which I get, but we needed him here because he’s Bruce’s bio kid. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if Damian went downstairs to get away.”

If Damian ditched the gala to go punch criminals, that would be bad, to say the least.

“I’ll go look for him,” Danny says. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I can get him back up here.”

“Thanks, Danny. I gotta get back to it. Also,” Tim adds in a whisper, “Don’t worry if Bruce seems like a different person or super drunk. He’s really good at acting.”

“Okay…?” 

Danny’s not really sure what that has to do with him, but he appreciates the heads up anyways. He’s been excusing all of Bruce’s weirdness as either ‘Batman-related’ or ‘none of his business’, so he’s fine ignoring whatever Bruce gets up to tonight as well.

Now that he has a task to complete, Danny gladly leaves the ballroom to find Damian. 

He starts off checking the sitting rooms, which already have a few of the guests lounging in, drinking wine and gossiping. The other areas that guests can access are all Damian-free, which is about what he expected. 

Danny moves on past the rope barriers, nodding to some of the security guards walk by on their patrol, ensuring no guests, invited or otherwise, go deeper into the Manor. 

The kitchen is empty. As are the living rooms on the ground floor. 

Maybe Damian’s in his bedroom? Or his art studio. Those are the only two other places Danny would think to find Damian that’s not the Batcave. 

He just really doesn’t want to go down there again. Especially not on his own.

Just as he reaches the top of the stairs to the second floor, Danny sees someone walking down the hall. It’s not Damian, far too tall to be a teenage boy, and they’re moving slowly, looking around as if searching for something.

“Hey!” Danny calls out to them, striding towards them quickly. “You’re not supposed to be up here.”

They turn, and Danny recognizes the uniform for the security guards that are meant to be at their positions around the ballroom. This man has taken off his jacket, leaving him in a simple button down shirt and dark pants, a gun tucked into a hostler by his hip. 

“Oh, sorry, I thought I heard something up here and went to check it out.”

“This is pretty far from the ballroom. It would be hard to hear anything here from where you were supposed to be. Wanna try that one again?”

The easygoing smile on the guard’s face disappears, replaced by a dark scowl and a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Listen kid, this will be easier for all of us if you just walk away now. Don’t make me do anything you’ll regret.” He puts his hand on the holster. The threat is clear.

But Danny’s had guns pointed at him from years. He’s dodged shots from his own parents. One guy isn’t going to scare him.

“It would be easier if you just went back to you post and did the job you were paid to do.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m doing exactly what I was paid to do.” He grins, sharp and mean, and pulls out his gun.

Okay! Great!

Danny’s not nice anymore. And Alfred already gave him permission to do anything he deems necessary.

In a blink, Danny’s closed the distance between them and tosses the man over his shoulder. He kicks the gun out of his hand and is about to try to flip him over so he can put the guard in a shoulder pin, but a knee slams into his stomach, knocking the breath out of him.

Danny wheezes and is kicked back, stumbling to keep his balance. The guard rises to his feet and lunges forward, throwing a straight punch. It’s easy enough to dodge it, ducking to the side and stepping closer to try to knock the guard down again, but he pulls his arm back a bit, bends it, and slams his elbow into Danny’s face.

Pain races through his skull as he falls back, hands flying up to his nose. It’s probably broken, already gushing blood, and it stains his teeth as he bares them in a snarl and grabs hold of his ghost powers.

Teeth sharpen into fangs. His eyesight gets sharper, the iron taste of blood stronger in his mouth, and icy fog wafts out of his mouth. 

“The fuck—” is all the guard is able to say before Danny tackles him. The force of it knocks them both to the ground, the guard’s head hitting the floor hard. He tries to force Danny off of him again, but Danny holds tight, blood still dripping off his face. “No one said the Waynes has a fucking meta with them!”

“Bad luck,” Danny says, a growl turning his voice into a low rumble, staticky even to his own ears, and the guard pales. 

All it takes is one hand to lift him but his shirt, the fabric of it held tight in his hands. And then Danny slams him back against the ground, making his head bounce, and the guard is out cold. 

He means to drag the guard someplace where he can be locked away until someone can deal with him, but screams rise up from the ballroom, stealing away his attention.

Shit, something must have happened!

As much as he wants to go racing back to help, his priority is Damian. 

The other guests will be protected by the guards (hopefully) and Bruce and Tim. But Damian is unaccounted for, and the longer Danny can’t find him, the more danger he’ll be in.

There’s no point in being discrete or quiet now. Danny runs down the hallway, shouting Damian’s name. 

He doesn’t get any response.

His nose throbs with dull pain each step he takes. His suit is a lost cause, covered in his blood and rumpled from the fight. None of that matters at all as he races down the halls, trying to find Damian.

Distantly, he hears gunshots and more screaming from the ballroom. 

Danny grits his teeth and gives up on running entirely to fly recklessly through walls, dreading every second that passes. 

The second floor is empty, save for the prone figure of the guard lying in the hallway near the stairs. He doesn’t have time to search any higher floors, so Danny goes back down to the ground floor, hoping that the noise from the ballroom would have drawn Damian out. He’s bound to have heard it, wherever he is in the Manor.

He drops back down to this feet and pushes his ghostliness away as he draws closer to the ballroom, wary of running into someone. It doesn’t seem like any of the guests had been able to get out of the ballroom. 

Every so often, there’s a single gun shot. The sound chills him to the bone.

Just as he’s getting closer to the open areas of the Manor, within the rope boundaries he set up with Alfred earlier, he hears a noise in a sitting room that makes him slow to a stop, listening intently. It’s a soft noise, at first. Just a few clinks of objects being moved. Then there are heavy footsteps moving slowly. 

Whoever it is can’t be Damian. He would never be so loud when he walks. 

The door is partially open, so Danny peeks in to see who it is.

It’s not a guard. It’s not any member of the staff that arrive to work the gala. 

In front of a broken window is a large man with a dark orange bandana tied around his nose and mouth, obscuring the bottom half of his face. He’s twitchy, pacing back and forth unsteadily, mumbling to himself. When he turns, the light catches on a glint in his eyes, the same drugged sheen that’s been present with other people who have attacked members of the Wayne household. 

Danny plans to creep in and knock him out so there’s one less person to worry about when a large hand grabs the back of his suit and lifts him up like he weighs nothing. A startled noise slips out of his mouth, making the man in the room whirl around, glaring at him.

“Caught a peeper!” announces the man holding up Danny. He’s large, bigger than a bodybuilding, like the one Danny fought in the mall. “Think Boss will give us more Venom if we drag this thing in?”

The other guy looks over Danny consideringly. “Nah. Bring him here. We can deal with him on our own.”

The not-body building walks into the room, unbothered by how Danny struggles in his hold, kicking out at the air. 

Danny’s thrown unceremoniously onto the floor, where he turns into a roll and gets back up to his feet, carefully keeping both of them in his line sight.

“Oooh, he thinks he’s a fighter,” not-body builder cackles. 

Danny glances at the door. 

“Don’t even think about running,” the first man says. “You work here, don’t you? Why don’t you tell us all about the goodies we can steal from this place. Make us rich and I’ll let you walk away alive.”

All this just for a robbery?

The guns, the break in, the violence, just for a robbery?

That’s fucking insulting. 

Danny checks the open door one more time to make sure no one’s coming their way, then launches himself at not-body builder. His ghost strength comes rushing back into him just as he hits, sending the not-body builder stumbling back with a surprised shout. He wobbles, trying to keep his balance, then falls.

He doesn’t waste a second before kicking his head and knocking him out. 

That’s one down.

Danny takes a deep breath, trying to wrestle down his strength so he doesn’t accidentally do serious damage to the other man, who is much smaller, only to gasp, breath punched out of him. A sharp pain tears through his back, which was left open to the other intruder.

Stupid, stupid! he berates himself, trying to get away. 

But the man holds him still with a hand on his shoulder, and Danny, in his panic, goes intangible.

The knife and the man’s arm go right through his torso.

Danny looks down at the knife. Looks at the arm. Both of them are frozen from this sudden turn of events.

His mind goes blank and he desperately tries to think of what to do when an idea parades itself to the front of him mind, to say: IMPROV.

“What the hell did you do to me?!” Danny cries out, putting as much terror into his voice as possible. 

“What did I  do?” the intruder sputters, pulling back. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Yes you did!” Danny argues. “I’m fucking air! You made me not-solid!”

“That wasn’t me!”

Taking a chance, Danny recalls what the guard upstairs said, and says, “You’re a meta?!”

“I’m not!” the intruder denies, “I didn’t do this to you!”

Danny spins around to face him, trying not to wince when the movement pulls at his back. “Fix this!”

“I can’t! I told you, I didn’t do it! This must be your doing!”

“I think I would know if I could turn into air,” Danny refutes, channelling Paulina to give him a withering look that will, hopefully, make him feel small and stupid. She always was great at digging her heels in and driving people mad with her stubbornness while tearing down their self esteem. He tosses his head back to glare at the intruder, meeting his eyes. “This is clearly your fault so fix it!”

They’re just going back and forth, thrown off their rhythm and scrambling to work though the situation Danny created for them. He doesn’t know how to put a stop to it. He really doesn’t want to be stabbed again.

“I really didn’t do it!” the intruder insists. He looks down at his own hands, faltering. “Right? There’s no way that could have been me…”

He doesn’t get any more time to contemplate whether or not he has powers because his body abruptly tenses, twitches sporadically, and then his eyes roll up and he passes out.

Behind him, holding a taser and wearing a deep scowl, is Damian.

Danny is so relieved to see him that he feels weak in the knees. The blood loss is not helping with that matter. “Damian!” he says, “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you!”

“I felt that something was off so I went to investigate. I found some of the guards marking areas around the ballroom as entries for the gang that’s taken over the ballroom. I was trying to take them out before this happened, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

“What is going on right now?”

“From what I heard when I traversed the vents above the ballroom, the leader of a recently established gang has taken over to take the valuables of all the guests. He is recreating Venom and trying to replace Bane.” Damian shakes his head. “That fool is just going to get himself killed. Bane will stop at nothing to have his head now.”

“I take it this Bane person is a big deal?”

Danny purses his lips, then looks away. “We’ll catch you up on the villains around here later. Come with me, there are others still around.”

“Are we going to the ballroom?”

“No. Black Bat and Nightwing are already here to take care of it. They’re just waiting for an opening. We will be taking out the intruders outside the ballroom, then going to the Batcave to join Pennyworth.”

Damian tries to take hold of Danny’s wrist, but his hand goes right through. He stares down at it in shock, as though he was betrayed.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Danny drops his intangibility and pats Damian’s hand to let him know he’s solid again.

Damian looks up at him and squints. “Are you alright? You’re bleeding.”

Danny brings a hand up to his face. It’s clean of blood. He must have let it all fall off of him when he went intangible, but his nose is still bleeding and it’s quickly rolling down his face again. He can feel his back get more wet, too, the stab wound steadily pulsing with pain, blood spreading through his suit.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Danny says. He’s survived way worse than a broken nose and a small stab wound. There are people in danger and people trying to hurt them. That takes priority over him, any day.

“Your nose?”

Danny shrugs. “Probably not broken?”

Damian reaches out and prods at his nose, checking it. It brings up flares of dull pain, but it’s not enough that Danny can’t stay still during this. In a matter of seconds, Damian nods and pulls his hands away, so the damage to his face probably isn’t anything to worry about. Danny’s going to trust Damian on this one.

“Very well. Let’s go then. And take this.” Damian holds out his taser to Danny.

“Um. Don’t you need it?”

“I am more than capable of taking people down without weapons. You need this more than I do.”

That’s fair. Danny gingerly takes the taser, keeping his thumb above the switch that will flip it on and have it buzzing with electricity. He follows Damian’s lead as they creep down the hall, staying low and quiet on their feet. Damian keeps in the lead, checking that it’s safe to move before signaling for Danny to follow. 

They take out three more intruders before the lights in the Manor flicker and then go out. Noise swells up in the ballroom before another gunshot silences it.

Danny tenses, fearing the worst, but Damian reaches back to squeeze his hand and whisper, “It’s alright. That was the moment Black Bat and Nightwing were waiting for. They’ll take care of it.”

When he strains his hearing, he can just pick out the shattering of glass and muffled cries of pain. He doesn’t hear anyone’s voices, but as long as no one is screaming, it’s fine. Probably. He hopes, anyways.

They circle around the ballroom, checking room and hallways, but it seems that most of the intruders didn’t bother hanging around out here when all their targets were conveniently in one large room. Having cleared out all the intruders they could, Damian leads them to Bruce’s office.

“What are we doing here?” Danny asks, keeping his voice low as he keeps one eye on the door to ensure no one comes in.

“We’re going to the Batcave,” Damian answers absentmindedly as he fiddles with a grandfather clock behind a desk.

Danny blinks. “Wait, we go in from here?”

“Look.” Danny looks to where Damian has opened up the grandfather clock to reveal a dark staircase that leads down, deep beneath the Manor.

“Huh,” is all Danny can say to that. It’s definitely safer than just falling through the floor like Danny did, but somehow it feels a little anticlimactic. It’s just stairs. It’s very hard to make stairs cool.

They could have at least put in a fire pole. 

A giant underground vigilante cave and not a single fire pole to slide down on? What’s the point then?

Danny holds back a sigh, then grimaces at the heavy taste of blood in his mouth. His nose isn’t hurting as much anymore, just a dull throb, and it’s easily ignored when his back flares with pain with each minute movement. He looks down at the stairs as Damian begins his descent, already wincing at how much it’s going to stuck going down them with a stab wound. 

He could really use that fire pole right now.

Or, actually, why bother taking the stairs? Danny’s half-ghost. It needs to be good for something.

Danny promptly goes ghost, flies down into the cave completely invisible and intangible, then drops back to the ground in a quick flash of light, human again. He intends to stand up and wait where there’s more light, but his head suddenly spins as his vision goes dark. There’s a buzzing in his ears and he gets a strange, floating feeling, as if he’s no longer in his body, just drifting out into open air. 

The floor is cold against his cheek. The floor is…

The floor?

Danny blinks his eyes open, wondering when he closed them. It takes a moment to realize that he’s lying down, somehow, on his back in some dark corner of the cave. There’s a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

He tries to say something but his voice dies halfway out of his throat. A few more blinks has his eyes clearing enough that he can see Damian crouched in front of him, looking over his head, mouth moving as he speaks, though Danny can’t hear anything. His ears are still ringing. 

The world sways around him.

He closes his eyes trying to count his breaths so the world will feel more solid around him. Wayne Manor just got attacked. Now is not the time to be lying around.

But he can’t force himself to get up. His body refuses to respond to him. All he can do is lie on the floor of the cave, trying to get his head to stop spinning, feeling the heat of the wound in his back as it presses against cold stone. 

Arms wind around him, lifting him up, and Danny whines as it jostles him. More blood spills out of his stab wound, soaking his suit even more. Distantly, he hears someone curse as he’s moved into a more brightly lit area. It’s too bright, even with his eyes closed, and Danny turns his face, trying to hide from it. 

A hand runs through his hair, soothing him. He’s carefully set down on something—a bed?

So they can have soft, high quality beds in their vigilante cave, but no fire poles. The Waynes need to get their priorities straight.

He tries to say something about that, but just mumbles out some slurred, nonsense sounds.

Someone hushes him kindly. The hand keeps brushing his hair back soothingly.

And then—

His shirt.

They’re opening his shirt.

They’re taking off his jacket.

Danny is laid out, helpless, held down, and they’re stripping him of his clothes. Terror slams into him like a train, ice in his veins chilling him from the inside out. His eyes snap open and his  blurry vision catches sight of two heads bend down over him, features dark and unrecognizable, backlit by the light shining too brightly right above his face.

His breath stutters in his chest as he stares at them, horrified and betrayed.

What are they doing to him?!

Panicked, Danny beings to thrash, adrenaline surging through it. It dulls his pain, lifts the lead from his limbs, makes him gather enough strength to try to push them away. More hands appear, trying to hold him down and a hoarse scream tears out of his throat. It doesn’t have any power, can’t throw them away from him, and stutters to a stop a few seconds later. 

“No!” he cries, tears leaking out of his eyes. “No, stop! Don’t, please don’t do this to me…”

A sob catches in his chest so hard is hurts. 

The people above him speak over each other, their words melding together. He doesn’t know what they’re saying, just that they’re speaking, but it does nothing to calm him down.

How can he be calm?

They’re trying to cut him open.

He tries to go ghost and his entire body lights up in pain, back arching off the bed as he screams again. 

The lights go out. The hands disappear. 

The world goes still.

Danny heaves for breath, shivering. 

It takes a long time before he feels solid again. Less likely to shake out of his own body. He doesn’t know what just happened. He should be able to go full ghost, but he entire body refused. It hurt and hurt and hurt and he doesn’t understand why.

It’s not just a failure of his powers, but a betrayal.

Slowly, he begins to breathe evenly. His entire body still hurts, but it’s the pain of a bruise, not an electric current running through the whole of him. The world steadies itself and his vision clears up properly.

Something cold touches his hand.

Danny flinches back, then looks up to see Alfred. 

Alfred, who’s aged face is lined with deep concern. Who stands just close enough to hold out the water bottle to Danny. Who doesn’t crowd him or demand answers. 

Alfred, who is safe.

Without thinking about it, Danny sags towards him. Alfred has to step closer, steady him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Danny, my boy,” he says, “Can you hear me now?”

Now? Was Alfred speaking earlier? 

Danny nods, blinking up at him.

“Wonderful. Do you think you could drink some water?”

Another nod. He looks down at the water bottle and its unsealed cap, then his own trembling hands. He doesn’t think he can open it.

Before he can ask Alfred for help, another hand appears in his line of sight, from the other side of the bed. Damian grabs the water bottle and twists it open, then shoves it into Danny’s hands with a click of his tongue.

He doesn’t let go until he’s sure Danny has a solid grip on it.

Danny tries to thank him, but his throat clicks from how sore and dry it is. He drinks half the bottle in one go, clears his throat, and is able to say, “Sorry about that.”

“There’s no need to be sorry,” Alfred says, just as Damian says, “If you’re sorry, then take off your shirt so we can tend to you. You’re injured.”

Alfred turns to Damian with a severe look on his face and Danny hurries to intervene before things can get messy. Or, messier. 

“Right. Sorry. Again. It’s not a big deal, it’s just a small stab wound.”

“A stab wound?” Alfred repeats. “Danny, please let me tend to it. It may need stitches.”

“It doesn’t—”

“You don’t know that,” Damian hisses. “Let Pennyworth help you, or I’ll do it myself. And you won’t like it if I do it myself.”

Danny is ready to refuse again, but the clear concern in Alfred’s eyes stops him. 

He does need help. He doesn’t want to cause trouble for Alfred.

“Fine,” he bites out. “But don’t—don’t touch me if you can avoid it and don’t ask any question.” He doesn’t give himself a chance to second guess, just pulls at his shirt and suit coat, going intangible to get it off him without lifting his arms. Strangely, that doesn’t hurt the way trying to go full ghost did. 

Something to consider later.

The silence that follows is heavy. Danny can’t stand it; he wants to hide away, to rewind the last hour so he can undo what he’s just done, pretend he’s still fine. All his scars are on display. The arcs of electricity from the Accident that have embedded themselves into his skin, close calls from ghost fights that were bad enough to leave a mark in his human form, the burns from his parents inventions locking onto him before he was able to deactivate them.

Alfred lets out a slow breath. Then he says, “Master Damian, if you could get—”

“Of course.” And Damian is up and moving, the light above him turning on. It’s much dimmer than it was before.

“If you could please turn around, Danny. I need to see what I’m working with.”

Danny forces himself to turn, showing his back to Alfred. He’s tense, every inch of him ready to run. 

It’s Alfred, he tells himself sternly. Alfred won’t hurt him. He’s safe.

Damian returns, handing something off to Alfred. He can hear them move, hear things being prepped behind him, metal against metal, and another sliver of terror runs down his spine.

“Stop,” he says without meaning to. 

The cave goes quiet again, both Damian and Alfred freezing. Danny swallows roughly, then turns back to face them. “I can’t,” he chokes out. “I can’t—I need—I need to be able to see you.”

“Then I’ll do your stitches,” Damian announces. He rounds the bed, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. “I am more than capable. Even before I came to Gotham I had learned how to provide medical aid both in practice and on the field.”

“I’ll be right here,” Alfred reassures him. “Master Damian is very capable. He will do a good job at this.”

Danny nods, taking in a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay. Then, please, Damian.” 

“I’ll apply the local anesthesia now. This will keep you from feeling the stitches go in.” Danny tenses, and then the area around his stab wound goes numb, the pain dulling.

Alfred takes hold of his hands. “Breathe with me,” he instructs. Danny does his best, keeping his eyes on Alfred, matching him with each deep, even breath. 

He tries not to be too tense, to think about when Damian will begin, if he’s already started, all the questions they will ask him about his many scars…

“Done,” Damian announces.

…What?

“What? Already?”

“Yes,” Damian says, a pleased note in his voice. “I told you I knew what I was doing. I’m going to put the bandage on it now. Do not get it wet.”

His back and shoulder are still numb enough that he doesn’t feel the bandage get put on, so he just takes Damian’s word for it. That wasn’t as bad as he expected it to be. In fact, that went really well? Fast, too. Danny would have never been able to stitch himself in that time.

Alfred squeezes his hands, leads him through a few more breaths, then pulls away. He helps Danny lie on his side and pulls the blanket up over him. 

“Get some rest now, Danny. I’ll be here while you sleep.”

“Wait, the gala. Is everyone…?”

“Everyone is alright. The police had been contacted and will be here soon. Nightwing and Black Bat have the situation under control. There is nothing more you need to do.” A hand drops over Danny’s eyes, blocking out the light. “You can rest now, Danny.”

He’s sure that he won’t be able to sleep at all, let alone soundly, after all that. But his body has other ideas and in no time he’s pulled under into that deep darkness that shuts away the rest of the world and lets him drift away. . . .

(The scar map of Danny is being uploaded into the Batcomputer’s archives when Nightwing arrives, carrying a plate full of finger foods pilfered from the gala.

“Where’s Danny?!” he demands, sweeping his gaze across the entirety of the Batcave. He sees Danny curled up in a medical cot before Alfred can answer. “What happened?”

“He was stabbed,” Damian answers nonchalantly from where he’s going through sword katas to work out some of his more volatile emotions.

“Stabbed?!”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

Cass appears behind Nightwing, already shedding parts of her uniform. She steals something from the plate in Nightwing’s hand and is about to eat it when he hisses, “That’s for Danny!” 

She slowly puts it back on the plate. 

Alfred watches her stare at Danny in the medical cot, then turn on her heel to go to the lockers to change out of the rest of her suit. 

“Miss Cassandra, if you could please pick up all your clothes off the floor,” he says as she walks. Cass darts back to pick up everything she dropped behind Nightwing, then disappears into the locker room.

Nightwing finally shakes himself out of his stupor and makes his way over to Alfred, setting the plate down next to him. “Seriously, is Danny alright?”

Alfred places his hands on the desk, palms flat against it, and very calmly says, “Hunting down every person who has ever hurt him will be the last mission I ever go out on.”

“Shit.”

In any other case, he would have reprimanded Nightwing’s language. In this case, it’s the only appropriate response.

“Once the police are gone and the guests seen off, we need to have another family discussion. Danny is a very brave and very strong lad, but he’s gone through far too much. We must do better.”

“I’ll call the war council then.”

“See that you do, Nightwing.”

Alfred nods to him, then pulls the chair away from the Batcomputer to Danny’s medical cot, and sits with him. Looking down at his thin, worn face, Alfred is reminded of Bruce, in the aftermath of his parents’ murder, of Dick’s first nights in the Manor, of Jason and his nightmares, Tim and his loneliness. Now, Danny and his fear will join the expressions he never wants to see on his family again.

He is so young, so fragile, so bright and wonderful despite it all.

Yes, war council is the only appropriate way to move forward. It is the least he can do for Danny, so do it he will.)

[helloilikepurple]

DC X DP - Danny Drake

Tim's parents didn't intend to have another child. One was plenty. And then an one drunken night resulted in Janet getting pregnant. It's a bit of a predicament, seeing as neither of them want another child (who will need to be fed and raised and stuff) but are also both generally against abortion. So, she rides out the pregnancy, limiting public appearances so it remains secret. She doesn't want to deal with the publicity her being pregnant would get her. It's too much drama. So she keeps it secret from everyone but her husband, and gives birth in a private hospital.

She refuses to sign the birth certificate. She doesn't want this baby tied to her. She doesn't even bother thinking of a name. She gives him away as soon as he's out. A yet-to-be-named newborn Danny is handed off to an orphanage as soon as he can be. The Drake parents go through medical procedures to ensure another pregnancy won't happen.

He stays there for a only a few weeks before an over-eager, excitable couple comes by with their young daughter, in search of a son to teach all their ghostly hunting ways to because for all Jazz, even so young, is smart, she has no interest in their research. Also, Maddie doesn't want to go through another pregnancy since her first one wasn't very enjoyable (she was in a lot of pain for most of those 9 months, basically unable to work on her research).

They see Danny and are quick to adopt him (well, as quick as you can be, but, with it being a Gotham orphanage, it's a lot quicker than it should be). Jack claims he can see the ghost hunter potential in him and Maddie thinks he's adorable. She's excited to have a little baby again to take care of and hold. She'd always wanted a big family, and while 2 children isn't really a lot, it's enough for someone as busy as her. Jazz is excited to have a little brother, and takes to reading books about babies and parenting to better take care of him. She loves holding him, and brags to all her friends about her baby brother, who's undeniably the cutest baby ever.

Danny grows up with the Fentons, not knowing he's adopted. Everything happens as it does in the show. And then, when Danny is 15, his parents take him to Gotham for a ghost hunter convention, Jazz busy with university hunting. Going to Gotham should've been a nice vacation for him. No ghost attacks for a good two weeks. Just Danny in Gotham - with free reign of the most crime ridden city in the world. Yeah this wasn't gonna' go well.

Gotham is dark. The air smells like sewage, death and bitter hope. The people feel like candles flickering in a storm, stubbornly refusing to go out. Danny decides he likes it. The hotel his parents choose is fancy (paid for by Vlad at the insistence that Maddie couldn't stay in some random, run down place after catching wind of their trip). Danny thought it suspicious but figured he'd deal with it when he needed to.

Anyway, Danny has his own room right across the hall from his parents. It's got a queen sized bed, full sized bathroom with a jacuzzi bathtub, a walk-in closet, a tv and a balcony. It's very nice. Danny sets his bags down and collapses onto his bed with a huff. He lays there for a minute, and then reaches for his phone to text Jazz, Sam and Tucker that he made it to the hotel safe (something they insisted on).

And then he stews.

Mum and Dad, for all their brilliance, can be forgetful when it comes to their children. Danny basically has free reign to do whatever for most of the 2 weeks they'll be in Gotham (which is his whole winter break and a little of the first week back).

Vlad's invited the Fentons to a few galas he's attending, insisting they'll be able to show off their inventions to a bunch of people. Danny knows its an excuse for Vlad to spend time with Maddie, make digs at Jack, and show him off as if he was his son. He's not looking forward to it, but the offer came with free, great hotel rooms so it could be worse.

(Plus, with Vlad paying he can spurge on room services and bleed him dry.)

Besides, Danny could do whatever he wanted the rest of the time. He could go to the planetarium and stuff. All he had to do was not out himself as a meta-adjacent person in a meta-hating city. Easy peasy.

All in all, what better time for all this to happen than on Christmas?

Honestly, even with the galas, the garish Christmas decorations all over the place, the music, and Vlad, this is seeming like a better Christmas than usual.

[tanglepelt]

Falling into the Zone

AO3

Danny gets lost in the ghost zone having entered via natural portal. The one good thing out of it is he catches a vigilante likely saving them from death.

Tim was not originally in my plan. It was just going to be Danny seeing new sites. Then Tim fell into Dannys arms.

It was meant to be an uneventful trip into the ghost zone. Danny just needed to get to Amity and then back before the fruit loop noticed. Danny was not attending that gala with Vlad without a way to defend himself if he could help it.

Vlad wanted his little badger to attend a gala with him. Of course, his dad agreed right away and sent him off. No matter how tired he fought against it. Vladdy knew best Afterall. Who cares if it makes Danny extremely uncomfortable? Not his Parents.

Even his mom knew he didn’t like Vlad. She just went along with it of course. It would be a good bonding experience for the two.

It couldn’t even be a day trip. No. Vlad had a suite in some hotel in Gotham. They would be there two days early. There was no need for it. The fruit loop is only doing it to make him even more uncomfortable. To rub his wealth in his face or something.

The first day was spent just being lectured on proper etiquette followed by threats if he didn’t behave. He wasn’t going to risk Vlad releasing his experiments on Amity when he wasn’t there. So, he would behave at the gala. Only the gala got specified in that deal.

Danny couldn’t even contact his friends to warn them. The fruit loop had “accidentally” knocked into Danny causing him to drop his phone. Only to “accidentally” step on the phone breaking it.

There is no way the outfit Vlad had specially made didn’t have some form of anti-ecto properties. He was starting to think there was more to making himself look better. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

If Plasmius made an appearance at the Wayne Gala. That was on the bats. Danny wouldn’t need to get involved. If Amity doesn’t need help, he’s sure an experienced vigilante could handle it. He had no experience and handled it himself.

Danny was set to behave, be good and stick around. He was trapped in the hotel room anyways. Anti-ecto shields keeping him stuck.

Then a glowing green portal opened in front of him. Which Is odd. Now he wasn’t at the Gala so why behave? Was it a bad choice? Probably. He didn’t care, better than staring at a wall.

He went through it. Right into the ghost zone. The portal closed behind him. At least he didn’t have to worry about Vlad following. All he had to do was make his way to the Fenton portal warn Sam and Tucker and be back within an hour. Should be easy.

He’d have to find an excuse for how he got out. But that was future Danny problem.

Current Danny problem was being lost in the zone. Nothing here looked familiar. It was all new, with different islands and different doors.

The farther he flew the more he saw.

Floating islands made of candy, waterfalls in thin air, floating rivers with glass walls and flooring you could see ghost fish swim, and the massive number of flying animals.

He had seen dragons, unicorns, rabbits using their ears to fly, there was even an emu. They all just were chilling in the zone. Now he knew animals resided in the zone. Cujo was proof of that. He just didn’t expect there to be so many.

The sheer size of the zone shouldn’t surprise him. It was officially known as the infinite realm for a reason. A place that connected every universe and every dimension to the afterlife. Even if you believe when you’ll die you go to the void you must pass through the realm first. Anyone who dies travels through it. Only around 2% ever stay. Yet 2% of an infinite is too much to count.

Those who remained in the infinite realm had tragic deaths or had business left to attend to.

Take ghostwriter for example. He died in the fire that took down the library of Alexandria. It’s why he was so protective of his books. His human life ended trying to save the books of the past. He couldn’t protect them so now he can write books his own way. On top of having a library of all the past books to ever exist. Danny destroying his book reminded him of his death.

No one wanted to relive their death day.

Danny was content to take in the sights. See a whole new area of the zone. Once he figured out where he was this area would go on their map. Better than no map but certainly not the infimap.

This area of the zone was astounding. So much better than by the prison.

An island of floating water with what appeared to be mermaids and mermen.

An island with large trees and a giant nest. Humanoid creatures with wings resided there.

Did the zone have property value?

The Fenton portal was right near walkers’ prison. Maybe they just opened the portal in a bad area.

Danny had even passed a few ghosts while flying. He had prepared to be attacked. Yet none came. The ghost just looked at him and left. He wasn’t sure but Danny is positive one called him a baby. Which rude. He is 15.

Around an hour in, he was about ready to ask someone for directions. Someone had to know where the prison, the far frozen or even the river of revulsion was. He was interrupted before caving.

A bright green light came from above.

Another natural portal. He was tempted but knew better. He could end up in the wrong time. No, he needed to get to the Fenton portal or frostbite.

While he was considering what to do a body fell right into Danny's arms. A human. Black hair red/black/yellow cosplayer outfit and a black mask. There wasn’t much time to process.

The screaming from the portal was overwhelming. Then a boomerang hit him square in the face. A tracker?? Listening device?? something attached. Something was being shot through then with a woosh the portal closed. A grappling hook??? Yea, that’s a grappling hook. Well, half of it got cut off when the portal closed. Thankfully it wasn’t a body part.

Danny did crush the device. He didn’t want Technus to get his hands on that technology. It was far smaller and more advanced than what he had. Regardless of what it was. Not worth a potential headache.

Either way, it’s not like it would work.

Tucker had specifically made stuff to work here. Which Danny didn’t have. Man, maybe he should have thought twice about rushing into the portal. No, his impulsive thoughts were of use. Regardless of if Danny was here, the guy passed out in his hands would have fallen. Which means who knows if he would have survived.

It was more important than ever to get to frostbite.

Danny went to investigate the wounds it all clicked. The boomerang, grappling hook, and tiny device. This was Red Robin, one of Gotham’s Vigilantes.  One of Gotham’s Vigilantes was unconscious in his arms with a bleeding head.

That wasn’t good.

Thankfully Sam had made him read up on all the vigilantes in Gotham. She stressed not to reveal himself as Batman seemed to have a bad reputation with metas. Which was funny.

Danny was half-dead not meta.

Batman shouldn’t have a problem with him.

Unless he hated the undead.

Back to the problem at hand. Well, three. First, a human was in the realm. Secondly, the human was injured. Thirdly he had no idea where he was. Bad odds.

There wasn’t even anyone to ask for directions from.

Danny had never been more relieved for Cujo to show up. It was at least some sense of normalcy in the zone. When Cujo grabbed him by the ankle and dropped him and his guest off at the far frozen he could have cried tears of joy.

Frostbite took one look at the situation, and it was off to their medical bay. All the wounds were superficial, well, and apparently a sedative. Red would be awake soon. Now Danny just had to figure out what to say and how to explain the bracelet now on his wrist.

Humans were the ghost here. Red could just fall through the island into the zone if he wasn’t careful. Sam and Tucker each had their own devices in case they weren’t in the speedster.

Red bolted awake. Checking his mask then looking around the obvious med center. Not even double looking at the yetis. Then he made eye contact with Danny.

“Where am I”

“The afterlife!”  the look on Red’s face said that was the wrong thing to say. He probably assumed he died or something.

“You didn’t die first off. Secondly, stop messing with that bracket, take it off and you’ll fall through the floors.” Danny gave him his best-pointed look. He didn’t think it was effective. Red did stop messing with it. “You fell in a natural portal. Guess you fell for me, right into my arms. You're actually very lucky most who fall don’t make it out alive.”

Red then started messing with his sleeve. “Tech doesn’t work here, has to be specially made.”

The vigilante kept fidgeting with gadgets and gizmos. Even pulling stuff out of his belt. It wasn’t a surprise when nothing worked.

“How do I get home”

“I can take you once Frostbite gives you the okay. Well, frostbite and I. I’m not trusted with the infimap alone. Accidentally travel through time three times and you get deemed a problem. It's not my fault the fruit loop stole it from me.”

“Don’t leave out how you failed to return it Great one” Frostbite boomed as he walked in. Evidently letting in a chill as Red shivered. “Let me look over the human and then I can return you both to the human realm.”

The checkup went well. All Frostbite did was make sure he wasn’t going to pass out again. Nothing else. Frostbite grabbed the map.

No warning given frostbite grabbed the vigilante’s wrist and asked Danny to place his on the map.

“Take us to where they need to be”. There was a trick to the map. Not specifying a place.

Only frostbite landed nicely in some dining room. Danny and Red slammed into a wall. Red’s mask was gone; Danny’s ghost form was gone. There go secret identities.

“Welcome back to the human realm young ones. I shall take my leave. Do try and avoid the natural portals that spawn. You both were lucky.” Frostbite spoke voice full of humor. Frostbite used the map to return to the far frozen. Leaving Danny alone with a bunch of strangers.

He took in the faces around him.

Red Robin was timothy drake Wayne. Alrighty… how was he getting out of this situation. All the black-haired blue eyes people were just focused on him.

After a lot of explanation and a lot of Danny’s personal information being shared, it wasn’t that bad. He was at least able to warn the bats about Vlad.

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 3 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 3

“You heard me. They’re saying he’s dead,” Dash clarified as he watched Danny for his reaction. “And from what Kwan said, his body was really messed up.”

Danny rolled his eyes as Tucker stuttered in fear. Dash was known for trying to scare his ‘victims,’ so most likely he was just trying to get a rise out of them. “Yeah, yeah, and what’s your proof?” he asked as he sat down on his bed.

That caused the jock to back track. “Well… Kwan said…”

“Dash, I get we’re in the middle of the woods, and you’re in a prime position to tell ghost stories, but unless you have proof, this is not something you should joke about,” Danny scolded which drew a few surprised looks.

“What? It goes against your morals?”

The teen’s sneer was enough to cause uncharacteristic anger to flood through him. After taking a deep breath to calm himself, Danny glowered at him. “I’m only going to explain this once,” he warned as he tried to sound deadly serious, “I’ve seen the aftermath of what happens in a family who has someone go missing, especially when there’s no explanation as to what happened. It’s not pretty, and when it comes to people who get out here all sorts of terrible things can happen, so you shouldn’t be spreading rumors that could reach the family.”

“Wait, hold on. Fenton, you had someone in your family go missing?” one of the other jocks, Zach, asked. Danny was actually surprised he caught on to that. “Did they at least find them?”

“Luckily, they did, but that’s the reason my parents were so vocal against me going, and while I think they’re way too extreme about it, I, at least, understand their concerns.”

“But, no offense, your parents go on and on about weird creatures, ghosts, and other weird crap.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what happens when you try to rationalize what happened when nothing else makes sense. They were already involved in fringe metaphysics and stuff before that happened, so it was a logical jump for them to consider time slips and other dimensions with how bizarre everything was.”

A silence fell between them as they let Danny’s words sink in. It seemed that Zach wanted to say something else, but decided against it. Dash did eventually mumble something about how he’d drop it for now. That by itself was enough validation for Danny.

“Hey,” Tucker hesitantly spoke up after several minutes as all of them began to lay down, “do you think that kind of thing is real? I mean like falling into other dimensions and stuff.”

Danny didn’t answer him immediately. “To be honest with you, I really don’t know. I know there are a lot of legends regarding things like this, and my parents’ research at least suggests the concept of other dimensions is possible. I know the concept of wormholes are mathematically supported, and that some astronomers think wormholes could possibly bridge dimensions, but we don’t have the technology to get close to one or survive it. But random rips appearing in the woods? It sounds more like sci-fi horror movie stuff, but sometimes, as stupid as it sounds, that’s the only thing that makes sense.”

…..

“Maybe Kwan was right,” Tucker mused when he and Danny exited their cabin the next morning.

There were police officers present, and an ambulance with closed doors was on the far side of the camp. Danny briefly caught sight of an officer speaking to the driver of the ambulance until he noticed the markings on the ambulance were off. After a moment, he realized it belonged to the local Coroner. If that was the case, then there was a body retrieved.

“Well, I don’t know if it was that missing camper, but something definitely happened to someone,” Danny agreed as they made their way to the mess hall for breakfast.

The worst was confirmed as breakfast was finished. Rusty once again stood in front of them. His face was somehow bleaker than the previous day as he confirmed that the missing camper had been found deceased. After the murmurs of the teenagers quieted, he continued, “I know you’re supposed to be out here for fun, but unfortunately, this circumstance happened. We are going to do our best, after the police finish their investigation, to make sure you enjoy yourself here. However, the police have requested to interview each of you to see if anyone you may have seen or heard anything while you were out yesterday. They have also requested that no one go off by themselves while they were under investigation. Please go in groups of at least two. We rangers will also try to be with you when you’re outside of camp, but we may be stretched a little thin during the investigation.”

“I’m surprised they aren’t sending us home,” Tucker mentioned once Rusty was finished speaking and the roar of the students overtook the mess hall.

“I don’t think they can. I mean, the police need to talk to us, and since it’s an open investigation, they won’t want anyone to leave the area until they’ve determined there’s nothing else they can do here,” Sam pointed out as she checked her phone.

“Hey, are you able to get any service?” Danny asked her. “I couldn’t reach my parents yesterday.”

“It’s weird. Yesterday, I could, but I’m having trouble getting service this morning.”

“Now that you mention it, I noticed that too,” Tucker added as he brought out his PDA. “And that’s the thing, with how I modified this, that shouldn’t be the case. I wonder if there’s a disrupter somewhere nearby.”

“You mean a cell phone disrupter?”

He nodded as he leaned towards them. His voice lowered as he glanced around the room. “I’m not sure if anyone else noticed it. I think most of our classmates think it’s just because we’re in the woods, but that’s not really how it works anymore. This is something that should be brought up to the police.”

“I think you’re right,” Danny agreed as he checked his phone again. “And with everything happening, I think I won’t be able to use the ranger’s phone today either.”

….

About an hour after breakfast finished, the police began their interviews of the students. While Danny and his friends waited for their turn, they hung out near the front of the mess hall. They didn’t say much, but instead, they decided to watch the area.

A while later, a long black limousine approached from the only road fit for normal vehicles and came into the camp. A few minutes after it parked, a well-dressed man with silver hair exited. As one of the officers approached the man, Danny finally realized why he recognized him.

“Oh, that’s Vlad. I wonder why he’s here,” he mused as he watched. After a moment, he noticed his friends were gaping at him. “What’s wrong?”

“You know the Vladimir Masters?” Tucker nearly choked. “He’s one of the most influential billionaires in the world!”

“He is? I knew he had money, since he helps fund some of my parents’ experiments, but I didn’t realize it was that much. Anyways, apparently he and my parents went to college together. With how often he visited when we were younger, Jazz and I kind of view him as an uncle.”

“That’s actually pretty impressive. My parents know him due to some of the business galas they’ve attended,” Sam mentioned as a devious smirk crossed her face. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell them that Vlad is your parents’ benefactor. Mother dearest will have a conniption.”

Their conversation turned to what Danny knew of the man, and he answered the best he could. As he thought about it, he realized he didn’t know a lot of personal details about the man. Vlad tended to focus on the people around him and avoid talking about himself. He just figured Vlad was a very private person.

When Vlad finished speaking with the officer, he approached the trio. “Oh, Daniel! What a surprise! I never expected to run into you in a place like this with how protective Maddie is.” His tone was pleasant, but his exaggerated gestures almost made it seem like he was acting.

“We’re here on a school trip. I guess the PTA and teachers managed to convince her and Dad we’d be protected. But why are you here? No offense, but seeing you in the middle of the woods in a suit is weird,” Danny replied nonchalantly. He was used to Vlad’s over the top behavior.

“It’s unfortunate, really,” he explained as he glanced over his shoulder towards the officers. “The gentleman who they found dead works for one of my companies. I came out to see if the police officers required any assistance with resources, funds or otherwise, and offer my services.” As he turned back to face Danny, his eyes widened as he seemingly noticed Sam and Tucker for the first time. “Ah, you must be Daniel’s friends. Where are my manners? I’m Vladimir Masters, but you may call me Vlad.” He extended his hand towards them.

Tucker eagerly took his hand, but Sam was a little more hesitant. “I’m surprised that a big name like yourself personally looks in on their workers,” she told him.

A pleasant hum escaped the man. “I do try to keep tabs on those I employ. This particular incident, however, is extremely tragic and unusual, so I felt it was prudent to personally show my support for those investigating.”

“Yeah? I’ve also heard that killers like to inject themselves into investigations.”

“Sam!?”

“It’s quite alright, Daniel,” Vlad told him as he flashed a pleasant smile. “She does bring up a valid point, and it’s likely I will be asked a few more questions at a later time as a result. However, I can assure you that I was in my office a few states away when Mr. Aiden Jones was reported missing. Hmm, I also think I may have a word with your teacher. With a tragic event like this, it’s unwise to have you remain here when it is unclear if it is safe or not. Now, if you excuse me.”

As Vlad began to turn, Danny took a step closer as a thought crossed his mind. “Oh, Vlad, I hate to ask, but would you happen to have a phone I can use to call my parents? Mom left me a frantic message, but my phone’s not working, and I can’t use the Rangers’ phone right now…”

The man appraised him for a moment. “I don’t have a phone on me right now, but I do have one in my car. While I don’t think your teacher or the police would find it appropriate to let you in my car at the moment, I can at least give them a call for you.”

“Thank you!”

Vlad flashed him a large grin. “Anything for you, dear boy. But, I really must be off. Ta!” With that, he walked away, approached one of the nearby rangers, and struck up a conversation.

“So that’s Vlad Masters,” Tucker mentioned once he was certain the man was out of earshot. “I can’t figure out if I like him or not.”

“I don’t. It felt like everything he said and did was an act,” Sam told them as she crossed her arms. Her eyes never left the billionaire.

Danny just shrugged as he put his hands in his pockets. “He’s always been like that. I don’t really know if it’s because being involved in business, or because he lives alone.”

“He lives alone? No family or anything?”

“Nope,” he replied as he popped the ‘p’. “He’s never had anyone as long as I’ve known him. Both Dad and Mom like to ask him about whether or not he’s dating anyone whenever he’s stopped by, but he’s always answered that he’s too busy. I think Mom’s tried to hook him up with a few dates, but it never panned out.”

A frown crossed Tucker’s features as he glanced at the man. “You’d think he’d have people throwing themselves at him because of his wealth.”

“That might be why he isn’t seeing anyone. Anyways, any thoughts on what happened?”

“Not really,” Sam replied as she glanced towards some of the rangers and police. “If they thought it was just an accident, you’d think they’d come right out and tell us. I’m going to assume they aren’t sure, so they need to try to rule out a few things before they tell us anything.”

“Looks like we’ll have a chance to ask one of the officers. I guess it’s our turn to be interviewed,” Danny mentioned as one of the officers caught their attention and beckoned them.

A few minutes later, the officer took them into the mess hall. It was fairly routine. The officer, Malik, assured them they weren’t in any trouble or suspects. He just wanted to know if they had seen or heard anything while they were out on the trails the previous day. They explained that everything seemed normal, and they couldn’t recall seeing anything out of the norm. Tucker did mention that the three of them were having trouble with their cell phones.

Officer Malik made a strange expression at the new information, but did say anything regarding it. He just thanked them for their time, and sent them on their way.

Before he left the room, Danny spoke up, “Sir, do you know what happened? Should we be worried?”

He was silent for a few moments before replying. “We’re pretty sure he just had a bad accident, but, since we don’t have an official answer yet, we do have to investigate and take statements. Sorry this had to happen while you kids are on a trip.”

Danny thanked him and hurried out the door with his friends. “So, what do you think?” he asked as he checked behind him to make sure no one was paying attention to them as they walked behind one of the cabins.

“That’s pretty cut and dry, isn’t it?” Tucker asked as he scratched his head. “Accidents do happen.”

“Yeah, but the officer didn’t reassure us it was safe. Danny, you noticed it too?” When he nodded, Sam continued, “I think they’re trying to downplay what might have happened which worries me. And since our cell phones still aren’t working properly, it makes me more anxious. I guess Vlad was right. We shouldn’t be here right now.”

“Sam! Don’t say things like that!” The scared whine in Tucker’s voice almost made Danny laugh. “You’ll see, Dash and his jerk friends will use it to tell ghost stories tonight. I not going to be happy if I lose sleep.”

“And here I thought you liked scary stories.”

“Not when we’re smack dab in the middle of the beginning of a real life horror movie!”

[parad0xm0th]

Good morning (me when i lie) I’ve thought about it a bit more so One-shot under the cut

5k word count (AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55432786)

"Daniel-"

“Phantom.”

“I’m not calling you Phantom around our east side benefactors-”

“Dan then! you pompous asshole…” 

In the four weeks that Phantom’s been “living” in Vlad’s mansion under what can only be kindly called house arrest, this is a conversation that’s happened more times than he could count on all his fingers and toes.

Usually, it ends with Vlad’s exhausted sigh and resignation to just leave the subject again, but now with the old man’s eyes nailed to his office’s computer and a stiffness in his shoulders, he’s unwilling to drop the manor.

Phantom can’t bring himself to press on the bruise much harder anyway, he’s got his hands busy with a handheld game, some old version of Doomed playing on it, and he’s still trying to figure out a way out of this stupid thing.

“Your obsession makes you stupid old man, there’s no real reason to go parading me around at this thing when I could easily stay in the basement the whole time.” The pixeled animation on the screen roughly studders out the image of a demon getting its head torn from its body.

“We’ve-” “Pft” “... I have new guests attending for the benefactor gala this year, Dan. It’s best for both of us to just get introductions out of the way to avoid any future questions.” Dan just scoffs at that, teenaged clone body or no, it’s just a matter of time before Phantom regains his energy and puts the stupid vampire wannabe in his place. 

Evidently, Vald can sense the death glare cast his way and pauses whatever he was finger-typing out on the computer. With a heavy sigh that ages him by another decade, he swivels around in his chair to where Phantom’s been splayed out on the sofa.

“Thirty minutes, just thirty minutes of your time to make some introductions, to smile-” “Absolutely not” “-and nod and exist in the presence of the other children attending the gala.”

Vlad’s got a hand up to massage away the headache sitting between his brows, while Phantom’s sitting there like he’s just been forced to bite down on a lemon.

“I am not a child.” He growls it out more than anything else. Vlad just sighs and turns back to his computer.

“You are right now.” 

Phantom’s got that well-known anger brewing under his skin at that, and tosses the handheld with little regard for its well-being. He storms the other side of the heavy wooden desk with his hands slammed down on the dark stained surface. If he was just back to normal already the pine wood have splintered and cracked under him. 

Now, stuck in this shoddy version of his younger self, it did little more than echo a dull thud.

“Or- I could go along with this stupid plan, then use all the attention to ruin you and catch as many as your rich fuck friends with you in the flames of chaos.”

The eyebrow raise he gets back from the older halfa is good enough a signal to tell him that the words were falling flat coming from a fifteen-year-old.

“... Come now Dan, if you could do that you would have done it already.” Vlad’s eyes flick a blood red to match Phantom’s and it’s infuriating.

Later, Phantom will blame the fifteen-year-old brain working its stupid hormonal magic on him which leads him to try and throw a punch at the old man.

It’s sad and pathetic that he’s thrown against the wall behind him in what’s nearly record time.

Phantom thrashes against the invisible force field that Vald’s thrown against him, pinning him like a bug to the wall, and can feel the wristband around his left-hand jolt and tighten at even the thought of trying to reach for his ghost form.

There’s a tense moment of silence filled only by the quick ticking of a timer cranking backward at full speed. Vlad evenly meets his death glare with all the patience of a parent scolding a child.

When it goes silent Vlad lets him drop to the ground, where Phantom stays and glares at the ground, entertaining himself with imagining all the different ways Vald’s face could explode.

“I would have preferred not to, but I can’t be running this with a black eye can I?” Vlad waves him off and sits back down in his chair, and Phantom gets up and storms off before he can actually be dismissed.

From behind him, Vlad calls down the hall.

“Put on the colored contacts I put in your bathroom! Your suit is-” and he’s around the corner, either way, to go think.

Think, scheme, plan.

Not having a tantrum.

Later, he’s got no reason to regret not asking about the new benefactors, mostly because he knew no matter what fucking timeline he was in, was he ever going to willingly ask questions about Vlad’s high society involvements.

A heads-up could have been useful though.

As it is, currently Phantom stands in the shadow of the man who’s essentially his warden, stiff in a brand-new black suit (with a stupid red tie) and eyes itchy from the equally stupid baby-blue contacts that were last minutely stuffed in his eyes.

“-Yes, my godson is staying with me at the moment, interested in things at DALV co. he’s such a bright young man, the internship’s been going swimmingly!” The couple he’s talking to smile and nod along with Plasmius’s words, but with Dan living up to his name it’s probably pretty hard to match “bright young man” with the edgy teen in front of them.

Dan is not interested in helping with that.

Vlad somewhat awkwardly clears his throat and nods to the door across from them.

“Banquet halls right through there, plenty of hordurves.” Like a light flipped the couple is all bright smiles again and thank you very much for hosting and you have such a lovely home. Once they’ve gone through the doors and Vlad’s looked out the doors again to see nothing beyond them, he spins around with a glare leveled at the teenage twenty-something.

“Quit hanging around if you’re just going to haunt my shoulder, it makes for a bad impression.” 

Phantom, for his credit, gasps in a way that fun-house mirrors mock-hurt.

“But-But Godfather I thought you wanted me around for the next oooh 15 minutes was it.” Vlad scoffs at that, putting a hand on Dan’s shoulder and pushing him lightly to the door.

“Thirty minutes after start, Dan, we haven’t even gotten everyone here yet.” He waves him off again at the lights starting to shine through the heavy fence gate to the manor.

“Wonder around for a bit I don’t care so long at you’re back again after the toast.” Phantom huffs and very narrowly throws the bird at the old man before he can say anything about it.

He disappears, literally this time, though it makes him light-headed to do so and the stupid fucking watch tightens itself around him like a threat.

The way Vlad’s eyes track him as he stalks away is a tell that he can still see him, but attention is quickly turned away again.

“Mr. Wayne! So good to see you here sir, can I take your coat?”

Phantom phases through the wall a second too soon.

He has to take a breath behind the curtain as he returns to visibility, angry at the effort exhausted to do just that.

Wayne Wayne Wayne, where have I heard that name before?

The thing about coming from one timeline to another (especially when you essentially caused global destruction to the first one) is that things aren’t always 1-1, and Dan’s run into a lot of people in the last 10 years of causing said global destruction.

He didn’t always get the names of the people he killed, that’s for sure.

Stalking over to the snack bar after a moment, he thinks back some more.

If they’re rich enough, maybe I just heard about them on TV or something?

Ancients this food looks gross

Mulling over some rich people food that looks appetizing, Phantom can’t help but overhear from his side. Additionally, he really can’t help but overhear, it’s some kid talking at full outside voice volume.

“YEAH YEAH YEAH and-and then! Uh the uh the Bad Guy get’s THOWN through the WINDOW MOM!”

“That’s nice Jessia.” 

“And then SUPERBOY came and he- uh he uh did the THING!”

“Mhm, a little quieter sweetie.”

“And he FLEW AWAY!!”

“I’m glad you like watching the news with your father dear.” Yeah, fucking superheroes.

Listen, don’t get him wrong, there were supers in his world too, but this one seems to take to them a bit differently. 

TV shows, lunchboxes, and franchises all piggybacking off the existence of people who think that they’re the thing keeping the world from falling into chaos. Heroes in his world were a bitch to deal with because you didn’t even really know they were there until they were trying to stop your world-ending rampages.

Not that they were all that much successful.

The only place equipped to deal with ghosts was Amity it seemed, Valerie really gave him a run for his money there for a reason, and while sitting in his newly gifted prison watching the news with a pit in his stomach as Superman took down a guy from space who leveled a city block was a… less than fun surprise, he’s confident that once he’s back to full strength, he’d be able to take him down like any other hero he’s run into.

(body in front of him, piece of paper burning away in his hand, he doesn’t know these people- they don’t know him by anything else but death-)

(what’s one more dead parent.)

Sniffing, Dan starts making for the only thing that looks appetizing on the table that will similarly peeve off Vlad for taking it.

Yeah, he deserves cake.

(Danny’s known he was adopted since he was 6 and a half, it never mattered though, he didn’t remember any life outside of the one with the Fentons)

(He hadn’t even gone after them after they had died)

(He’s not sure what led Vlad to look for them)

Tink tink tink

“Hello, my esteemed guests! As you all very well know as your host, my name is Vlad Masters, and I would like to begin the night by letting you all know how very grateful I am for everyone’s attendance! Without your help, DALV co. would have a fraction of its glory,” Dan’s eyes try to make friends with the back of his skull as Vlad continues his stupid speech, leaving the food table to scout out a dark corner, and weaving around various guests all paused around the hall to watch Vlad talk his head off.

“It’s also my great pleasure to introduce our newest, and rather esteemed, benefactor to DALV co.’s committee, Bruce Wayne himself, all the way from Gotham.” 

The room erupts into a polite round of applause at the name, and Vlad has to wait a moment for it to die down.

“Yes, well, I’m sure everyone’s excited for some socialization, but before I let you go I’d like everyone to know the dinner will start being served in approximately one hour, and through the doors, to the east side you’ll find the Bleeding Hearts Orchestra will be doing some lovely live music for everyone. Enjoy.” Vlad raises the glass in his hand to the room, which is mirrored by every other multi-millionaire in the room.

Making his way to the back of the room, he nearly misses the intense, slightly wide-eyed stare Vlad gives him as he starts down the little platform he was making his announcement.

In fact, the old man seems to be on a bit of a warpath toward him, yeah, no thank you. Seems Phantom’s suddenly developed an allergy to old dudes with weird basements thank you very much. Fortunately, it’s pretty easy to lose Vlad in a room full of people who want to talk to him, and before Dan even knows it, he’s successfully sunk into the next room. 

He’s not given more than a glance from the few people in the ballroom, mostly made up of a dozen or so people dressed in a uniform setting up some stands, chairs, instruments, the works, for the orchestra. On the other hand, the only other people in here also seem to be younger than your average business person.

The lights are dimmed in here, most of the light coming from some fancy chandeliers that don’t seem to be doing their job very well, and it’s likely set up that way for some fancy reason that Vlad’s been briefed on by an interior decorator who’d have a heart attack one step into the basement. 

He’s really not paying attention.

“That’s gotta be a record.” 

Dan is a monster, a fiend of destruction, and the most powerful ghost on the planet, and he most certainly does not jump out of his skin at the voice that has appeared behind him.

“Pft, did I seriously get you this time?” The teenager, now effectively in front of him snorts out a laugh and Dan’s being a bit too busy with being offended to formulate a proper response.

“Ah- Can I help you?” He finally scoffs, wincing at how his voice came off as juvenile.

“I should be asking you that, considering how fast you ditched?” The teen nods to the door he just came through, with how dim it is in here it’s hard to make out many features, but Dan can tell he’s got black hair and dark blue eyes, only a few years older than him, at the very most 20.

“...If you’ve heard it once you’ve heard it a million times before.” Dan relents to the small talk with the way too-friendly stranger. He does snort a bit at his response though.

“I’ll give that to ya. Tell you what, let’s just ditch now for a bit of a look around and we can come back for some food and touch base with the others yeah?”

“You…Want a tour?” 

“A tour? Oh yeah a “Tour” perfect, you’ve already have a lay of the land?” 

“I mean, that’s one way to say it?” Alright, this conversation’s gone from awkward small talk to confusing nonsense. A random stranger wants him to walk around the mansion, did Vlad point this guy out to him at some point? He’s also talking weirdly, unless that’s just how teens talk and he’s lost the knowledge of why in his age.

Thirty minutes, Vlad wants him to play host for thirty minutes then he can go plot his revenge in the basement.

“...Follow me I guess.” 

Leading the teen out of the ballroom through a small service door by one of the curtains has him fleetingly wondering if he should be asking a name, but then decides if this kid wants to share that information he’s gonna have to do it himself. He also doesn’t know where to take the kid, they aren’t going to his ��room”, not over his recently revived dead body, and it’s not like he’s about to take him to the basement, so in awkward silence, Dan starts leading him through the walls in a path he knows is just going to be a circle. Or it should have been.

At some point, while passing a wall of gaudy Packers paraphernalia, the footsteps behind him stop. 

“Left over here, right Da-” The kids stopped and turned down another hall. Dan frowns.

“Uh, yeah sure? It’s just more rooms though.” And the basement entrance but you don’t need to go down there.

Leading the way again, Dan nearly doesn’t notice that the teen’s gone stiff.

What he does notice is that he’s pulled out his phone.

“So uh-” Behind him comes the kid's voice again. “What did you say your name was again?” 

“You didn’t ask, didn’t my ugh, godfather tell you already.” Dan slows his pace a bit to turn back, eyebrow raised. “I thought you rich kids had manors or whatever.” that might have a touch much considering the reappraising look he’s getting from said rich kid.

“You didn’t ask my name?” 

“I don’t care what your name is.”

“I’m Tim…?” the teen says, in a weirdly careful way, Dan glances down to where he’s got his phone held weirdly in his hand.

“Dan. Can we just get this over with?” Tim the teen is weird and Dan’s getting sick of dealing with him, Vlad be damned.

“Uh, yeah! Sorry I’m just a bit curious, what’s your opinion on Bruce Wayne being here?”

“Just another rich dude.”

“You don’t know him?”

“Nope.” Dan pops the p on that, he’s not jazzed with the route Tim wanted to go on, the basement door’s hidden behind one of the bookcases on this hall, and while it’s next to impossible for Tim to know that, paranoia has him wanting to walk fast.

“So your Godfather’s Mr Masters?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Why’s that?” 

The glance Tim gets in response is withering.

“Right, so you’ve lived here long?”

“Like a month.”

“You like it?”

“Worst month of my life.”

“Where were you before that?”

“...Juvie.”

“This is worse than Juvie?”

Dan has to stop and roll his eyes back into his head, stopping because obviously, this kid would want to stop walking right outside the fucking basement entrance.

He quickly regrets doing the eye thing though as one of the fucking contact lenses gets stuck.

“For fucks sak be.” He mutters out, rubbing his eye like it’s going to fix the problem.

“You good man?” Dan thinks he’s looking at the bookshelves, but with one eye down it’s kind of hard to focus on the dude.

“Yeah it’s these fucking contacts, give me a second one of these rooms has a bathroom.” Tim hums an affirmative and Dan can only hope he’s dumb enough to not actually start pulling books out of the shelves. Luckily one of the doors right across the door is unlocked.

It’s not until his fished the stupid thing out of his eye that he realizes that that is strange.

Vlad keeps basically every door in his dumb mansion locked, the exceptions being the rooms used on a daily basis.

There, in the mirror!

Shadow shifts in the darkness of the room behind him, and Dan has very little time to dodge out of the way of something being thrown at his skull.

It hits the mirror though, and it shatters, chunks of broken glass hitting the porcelain countertop with a racket. Dan gets enough time to think this was a fucking set-up before he’s scrambling out of the way of a blurry figure launching itself at him from the darkness.

As a ghost, you really don’t need to worry about dodging like 90% of the time, intangibility and physicality are mostly a big old suggestion that can make someone pretty used to not worrying about dodging a punch as much as to go through it.

When you are a certain Phantom Menace on house arrest and most of your powers put on the bench by the ghost of time itself.

Well, that’s all to say that Dan’s not exactly in peak shape to take on a teenager who’s been trained on How To Kill since before he could walk.

Which is to say it takes less than 30 seconds for Dan to get his nose broken by someone a decade younger than him. 

“Fuck! What the hell?!” Dan, leaned over the side of the bathtub is both caught between marveling at the red blood decorating the linoleum floor and catching up to what exactly he’s looking at.

There’s a fucking Katana leveled to his face, and attached to it is a suspiciously familiar-looking teenager.

Dan’s seen a lot of clones of himself- of Danny- recently, why he’s been cursed to forever be haunted by his own teenage face, he can’t say he’ll ever truly know. 

The person with his face glaring down at him through a domino mask is not a clone of Danny.

“Dan? I uh heard- oh.”

“I’ll take care of it, Timothy, retrieve Richard and debrief Father.” 

“Hey, slow down this whole thing is-”

“I’ve taken care of clones before, I’ll get the information and dispose of it.” “I kept saying it over the line, this seems different-”

Right, right I remember now

“Damian Wayne, fuck I must be getting slow.” Dan scoffs and lets himself fall back against the tub.

(They were both 15 then too, could see the hatred in his eyes even as he bled out)

(Not much for conversation then either, Phantom had to track them down to be sure, maybe if they had talked something different might have happened)

(As it was Damian died not knowing who killed him)

The sword jabbed roughly closer to his throat was a useless threat.

“Admitting it now, clone?!” the younger hisses out.

“Wait, hold up, why give me a fake name then?” Tim holds up a hand, still not gone to Damian’s displeasure.

“I didn’t.” Eh, Dan doesn’t break his dead-eyed stare-off with Damian, but he’s about to with the stupid itch from the remaining contact.

“Why is Masters making clones of me?” Dan scoffs, if that stupid paper was right, maybe he was lucky to be adopted with Jaz as a sister.

“I’m not a clone of you, Damian.” Then Dan’s face scrunches up and he regrets his wording because Tim’s eyebrows raise at least two inches up on his face.

“Uh, no offense man but have you seen the two of you? And what’s with your eye?” Tim says it, but Dan can see the gears turning in his head. He largely ignores him in favor of seeing if Damian can connect the dots better, which, honestly could be entirely impossible.

A minute twist of his frown says otherwise.

“There is no other explanation.”

“I didn’t give a fake name, it’s Dan, short for Daniel-” Suddenly that katana is making very close friends with the skin of his neck, and Phantom has to keep from hissing at its bite.

“That’s impossible.”

“Damian!” He can breathe again, as Tim’s taken the initiative to grab Damian by the back of his shirt and haul him backward, “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Daniel al Ghul died less than a day after he was born!” Damian spits out the words like a curse and Dan can’t help but give him a rueful grin at it.

“Yeah, like you could even remember.”

Damian’s silently fuming at that, but it’s Tim who’s got his eyes flicking back and forth between the two that’s got the right track with his next words.

“He’s really not clone identical? And-” Lowering his voice like it could keep Dan from hearing, maybe if he wasn’t what he was it would, “-could Talia have lied?” Damian’s face curls further down at the edges and Dan’s starting to consider just dropping through the floor to not have to deal with that dead face overlaying the one in front of him.

It takes a minute but Damian finally seems to steel his resolve with a readjusting of his sword.

“Take us to the basement.”

“Fine.”

It’s a book-pull lever because despite protesting the name, Plasmius is a Victorian vampire-wannabe and spends his money trying to make his home look as haunted as possible.

“Damian we should still wait for Dick-”

“There’s no point, Timothy, we can deal with it should things get ugly.” Dan loathes that implication.

The basement is pretty incriminating with evidence if any of them are real about it, the walls are lined in homemade technology and equipment, and it’s at the far end of the room that big people-sized tubes are situated along with the closed door to Vlad’s portal.

Quickly, Tim rushes over to the things, leaning down at the base with some kind of tool that came from nowhere.

Domain’s glare turns on him, weapon a threat Dan still can’t take seriously.

“So you’re my long-lost twin, who just so happens to be living in a house that has cloning tech in it?” 

“This is old CADMUS stuff dude,” Tim yells from where he’s ended up on the floor “But it’s been messed with to hell, what is Masters doing with it?”

“You want to know what a rich old Fruitloop is doing with cloning machines?” Dan scoffs at Tim looking a bit offended with the question.

“Why is he cloning me?”

“He. Didn’t. Clone. You.” God teenagers were exhausting, honestly, it would probably save this timeline’s Danny the trouble if he just killed him now, call it a favor for trying to shatter his timeline or whatever.

The watch tightens again, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from cursing.

“These are all empty, did he succeed with what he was cloning, Dan?” Tim’s almost certainly figured it out, well as much as he can with what Dan’s given him, he’s sure the ghost stuff and the timeline mess would be a surprise. 

“Eh, the old man’s intent on turning over a new leaf.” 

“Masters got tired of playing mad scientist down here? I’d have to assume there would be a reason, cloning’s a dangerous science.” Dan shrugged.

“I wouldn’t say that much, most of his attempts couldn’t last more than two steps out of those tubes without melting.” 

“Weird… Did they sell him shoddy tech? What could have made them so unstable?” Tim turned back to Dan for answers.

“You know I’m starting to feel a bit exploited here with a knife to my throat.” 

“Damian-”

“You want us to believe Masters is making clones of my dead brother?” Damian sounds almost offended as he says it.

“If it makes you feel any better he’s not doing it anymore.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Dan just shrugs.

Either way, it doesn’t matter, this isn’t his version of Damian, and he’s not this version of Danny, if he’s that inclined to get to the bottom of the matter he can try and chase down this version of Danny in Amity for all he cares. Maybe they’d get their own tearful reunion that Phantom ruined for himself. 

There are footsteps on the stairs.

Faster than he’d honestly expected, both Tim and Damian are gone.

Vlad comes down the stairs quickly, looking like his normal agitated self, and upon seeing Phantom huffs out an annoyed sigh.

“Thirty minutes, just a half hour was that so hard? You missed the start of dinner- oh ancients what happened?” Vlad harshly sucks in a breath and Phantom nearly forgot he had a broken nose.

“Obviously I just can’t get along with people my own age, huh old man?” Vlad reaches out like he’s going to take a look at the damage but sincerely, fuck that, and Dan pushes away with a scowl. 

“Don’t bother.”

“It’s got you distracted enough to leave the door open, the alarm went off.” Dan just grunts in response, he’s not sure where the other two went, or how much they could hear.

“Listen, I’m going to have you stay here for the rest of the night-”

“Suspicious-” 

“I was going to tell you after my initial announcement but you disappeared, but-” Vlad says with a frown, seeming caught on what to say. He’s moved over to one of the cabinets in the room, pulling out a large first-aid kit.

“It’s complicated and I don’t have answers for you-”

“The Waynes.”

“... You already know, of course, care to let me in on the know?”

“What, so you can run off and warn him?” in lew of an answer Vlad just hands him an icepack.

“You just want to know what’s gonna give you an edge in the custody battle old man-”

“I’m not- I don’t do that anymore, so long as Maddie and Jack are around Daniel is free to live his life with who he pleases.” 

“In contrast tooooo-”

“Do you truly want me to answer that question Dan?” Phantom scoffs.

Reaching up to his other eye, he plucks the remaining contact from his eye, throwing it to the floor. 

“You won’t be able to hold me here for long, Plasmius.” 

“I really don’t want to, but until you’ve learned anything from what you did in your timeline-” Vlad’s cut off as Phantom gets up from the chair he had been nursing his nose on in favor of getting up in the old man’s space.

“The only thing I regret is not killing you first.”

It’s the tragic thing about being a teenager, even with the red eyes, he’s still not coming off as an actual threat.

He knows this because Vlad just tells him to go to bed, looking at him with little more than pity and it’s disgusting.

After Vlad leaves, Dan is alone again, he’s not sure when the two other teens left but they weren’t down in the basement anymore. Maybe they’ve gotten enough evidence to try and shut down Vlad and he’ll be free to go. Or more likely Damian’s planning a new route to kill him with.

Either way, he’s massively unprepared to run into the man he’s only met once.

(He had managed to kill Bruce first)

(Maybe it had something to do with all that anger in him)

(Angry for even existing)

“You’re not supposed to be up here.”

“Ah, sorry, my bad! This place’s just woah, big enough I got a bit lost.” He’s got an apologetic grin on his face but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

Dan’s eyes used to be that color.

He grits his teeth, sharp enough to cut through the flesh of his cheek and his grip on the door tightens. The watch starts to burn his wrist.

“Daniel Fenton.”

“Sorry?” Bruce clears his throat a bit, he’s got a very analytical expression, studying Dan’s face like it’s going to explain himself more than his words.

“Daniel Fenton, he lives in Amity Park, a 4-hour drive west from here, at Fentonworks, you won’t need an address.” Dan spits the words. “He won’t know who you are, or what you’re talking about, he might not even know he’s adopted! So! Go ahead and show up and ruin his life for me please, and leave me out of it.” 

Phantom slams the door in Bruce Wayne’s face.

DP x DC thought:

I feel like (while maybe not a common fic premise) I’ve seen a few different versions of Danny&Damian twins AU where they run into each other at a gala (very fun and confusing fics 10/10 some of my favs) dragged along by like Vlad or Sam and her family.

I just re-read agit and with the ending that did give me an idea of that same kind of premise, oh no Danny’s been dragged along to a fancy Wayne gala with Vlad and runs into his long lost twin, but instead it’s Dan, 20(?) years older and running into Damian in his younger clone body.

It does bring up the question of what happened in Dan’s timeline with the Justice League and etc (I’ve seen a few where the authors say he’s able to take them down which, OOF) idk, it’s something that could have a really different view I was mulling over maybe I’ll get into it a bit more in the morning