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midnightenigmados · 1 year ago

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Okay, so I'm a bit late to the party, but I finally finished this baby from WWT. Just a heads up, it's a bit(a lot) more angsty than I initially intended so read with caution if that's not your gig. I promise it ends happy!!

Summary: Fresh from experimentation, Danny finds himself hiding in the walls of some old, dilapidated building. Feeling safe within its bounds, he succumbs to sleep, unaware of what is about to transpire. WC: 7,865

Cold.

That’s all Danny could feel.

The biting cold of the wind on his face as he flew around what looked to be a city. The empty pit in his chest as he held what little threads he had left of himself together. The chill of his blood that ran down his fingers, eventually fading into the night.

Once upon a time, the cold brought a certain comfort to him.

Now, it only brought him pain.

How long had he been flying?

Danny couldn’t recall. Time slipped past him like grains in an hourglass, the city lights blurring into one solid mass.

When did it get so bright? Was he not just in the countryside?

He supposed it didn’t matter, as long as he got away safely.

‘Safe,’ he scoffed to himself. He wasn’t quite sure he knew what that word meant anymore.

All he knew was cold.

And pain.

He yawned.

And exhaustion, he supposed, if Danny was making a list. Surely, he’s flown far enough now. Enough for a nap, at least.

Still, it was risky to stop. They had tools to follow and track him. Methods to stop him. Ways to force him out of hiding, if necessary.

It was best if they didn’t even get the chance.

And yet…

Danny blinked.

When he opened his eyes again, a mere moment later, his world had shifted. Tilted, racing past him as he fell down down down.

He came to his senses just in time to catch himself before crashing onto a roof, a cloud of gravel and dust puffing up around him as he laid spread-eagle, staring at the stars for the first time in months.

He couldn’t see them.

At first he assumed it was the city lights blocking him with light pollution, but that had never been an issue before. He glanced around, trying to discern his surroundings, but…

Oh.

Everything was blurry.

Could it have been the experiments? Danny wouldn’t be surprised. They had no reservations taking everything else from him, too. Why not take his vision while they’re at it?

The dust settles around him, dirtying his face and stinging his eyes. Still, he did not move.

The pain was nothing new to him, after all.

Something this small was hardly noticeable.

That was, until warm liquid trailed down the side of his face, settling within his inhumanely bright hair.

Danny blinked. He wasn't aware it had started to rain. Not that he could see the sky in the first place. And there was this obnoxious choking sound, as if someone was trying to cry out but couldn’t for some reason.

It hurt his ears.

Oh.

That was him.

He was crying.

That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t make noise. They would find him.

But, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t think. He could hardly move.

Everything was cold and pain and tired.

Danny just wanted to sleep.

He needed to be safe. Just for a moment.

Just for a moment.

Biting back an unnecessary gasp for air, he mustered up what little energy he could find and spread it through his body. Not enough to oppose the limits of this universe, but just enough to disregard them a bit.

He sank through the floor of the ceiling. Slowly, hesitantly, as if his body wasn’t quite sure where it belonged anymore, but eventually darkness overcame his vision.

A sense of nothingness overcame him as he became one with the building. It was a place where no one would be able to find him, at least for the moment. Sharing the space with the concrete walls of the building, where nothing, not even pockets of air, accompanied him.

In a way it was like being buried alive. How fitting, for a half dead kid, to find respite in a scenario like this. He almost wanted to be disturbed. To find himself uncomfortable as the walls crushed in on him when he no longer had the strength to hold his intangibility perfectly and had to resort to his unconscious instincts. He wanted to be afraid of something normal again.

But, he wasn’t. This was the safest he found himself in months and the adrenaline that had been holding him for the past few days was finally wearing off, weighing at his eyelids and beaconing him to sleep.

Holding himself together, hoping that with sleep, his body would also find the energy to stitch itself back together, at least partially, so he could continue on his way shortly, Danny succumbed to his exhaustion, unaware of just what was about to occur in his very location.

`~`

How did it come to this?

Rhetorical question. Nightwing knew exactly how it came to this, he was just frustrated that it did.

What had been a routine drug bust on his visit to Gotham had quickly turned into a vigilante family reunion as their various cases somehow seemed to collide at once to the same thread. Which, in this city, is never a good thing.

From there, the situation escalated too fast for them to regroup or retreat. A building collapsed, set off by some chemicals inside. The fire and debris cascading across the surrounding block like perfectly set dominos ready to fall. Each member faced with an impossible decision again and again. Themselves or the city. The civilian or their friend. An innocent child or their son.

It was too perfect to be an accident. Too intricately aware of their own weaknesses to not be the work of one of their rogues.

So, when they found themselves in the same building, corralled there by some shepard of fate, Nightwing knew they had something big was about to go down.

His hunch was proved correct when, not five minutes later, the fire had spread in such a manner that each field member ended up on the same floor. Close enough that they could see each other, and even talk without comms, if one could make their voice heard over the roar of the flames(a bad idea if the heavy smoke had anything to say about it), but blazing, fallen debris prevented any movement closer.

Nightwing grinned sardonically from his hunched over position, glancing back at his family.

A perfect recipe for his own downfall.

Nightwing also could not find it in him to be surprised when maniacal laughter drifted into his ear through the crackling of the fire. The children beneath him trembling at the sound.

“It’s okay. He won’t hurt you. I’ll protect you,” he whispered to them, plastering what he hoped to be a reassuring smile on his face as beads of sweat dripped down his chin.

“Batsy!! ….How about it..?” He could only vaguely hear what was going on the other side of the floor. The Joker’s shrill voice occasionally breaking through to, regrettably, find its way into Nightwing’s ears, “..ow’s this…one bad day,” the clown broke into giggles, maniacal and cruel.

He could hear Batman’s angry grunts as he protested whatever inane declaration’s the mad man was stuck on today. Red Robin’s frustrated exclamations as yet another piece of flaming rebar cut off his path to him. Robin’s rare cry of desperation as he is forced to choose between his ideal and brother.

A piece of debris fell from the floor above, managing to lodge itself across the wall Nightwing was currently supporting and ripping into his shoulder.

Distantly, he can hear his brother’s calling out to him, but everything is blinded out by the white, hot pain.

Still, Nightwing does not make a sound.

As much as he’d love to say it’s because he’s a super manly man that would never scream even under intense duress brought about by Joker’s pursuit, it's not.

It’s the children.

Shaking, clinging on to each other, the three of them couldn’t be more than five. Nightwing refuses to let them down.

They need to get out.

He glances around for some kind of path. Anything, anywhere that they could escape. Obviously, they can’t go towards Batman. They’d have to pass Joker to get to him. But Red Robin…

There. A small escape route. Much too small for any of the vigilantes present, but a perfect size for a child.

Seeing his brother glancing his way, Nightwing makes eye contact and nods down to his small shelter before glancing back up. He sees a look of indignation pass over Red Robin’s face, a defiance that only those who have served their time as Robin can master, but it passes in favor of acceptance as he calculates all the different ways the scenario could play out from here.

Ever the strategist, his baby bird.

“Hey,” he speaks softly, so as to not startle the already frightened children, “Do you see Red Robin over there? He’s a good friend of mine and he’s standing right next to a little hole you three can get through. On the count of three, I want you to all hold hands and crawl as fast as you can to my friend. Can you do that?” Muscles and torn ligaments screaming in protest, Nightwing shifts so he’s looking the oldest in the eye and waits until the boy gives a shaky nod, grabbing the two smaller girls' hands.

“Ready? One. Two. Thr-”

The fire that was blazing so bright, is extinguished in but a moment.

Silence overcomes the hall, unnatural and heavy.

Left blinking in the sudden darkness with only touch to orient himself, a chill creeps up his back, nothing less than phantom needles as they contrast with the scorching heat of the wall. Nightwing has to suppress the urge to shudder, afraid even that movement could spell his end.

He has to keep holding on. Until he can confirm the children’s safety at least.

He is so tired.

The air seems to only get thicker and Nightwing struggles to breath, eyelids pulling close as the world begins to crash down on him and tilts.

And then it’s gone.

The blistering heat is replaced by a cool sensation. Not too cold as to put him in sudden shock, but just enough to dispel the fire from before. The all-encompassing weight is left mercifully absent as he is left suspended by…something.

Is this what it’s like to die?

Did he…die?

Oh, his family is going to be pissed about that.

Nightwing opens his eyes.

This…has to be a hallucination.

`~`

Danny was warm.

It was an odd sensation, one that he hadn’t felt in a while. He barely even recognized it.

If he ignored the ever present pressure of the walls bearing down on him at all angles and the occasional intense rumble around him, he could almost pretend that it was comfortable. He yawned and instinctually flickered into intangibility as his mouth filled with concrete, taking advantage of the moment to wrap his arms around himself a little tighter before it dropped again.

Still…it was the most comfortable he’d been in ages. Surely a bit more of a nap couldn’t hurt, right?

…

A roar echoed through his shelter, reverberating and settling deep in Danny’s bones, shocking him into consciousness once again. For a moment, he thought he could sense the sensation of falling but then it was gone and he attributed it to his sudden change of awareness.

It was no longer comfortable.

This was…hot.

It was so hot he could hardly stand it.

It…hurt.

It hurt in such a different way than cold did.

He…wanted it to stop.

This isn’t what he meant when he didn’t want to be cold anymore.

Danny blinked open his eyes to find that his surroundings were no longer dark. Instead they glowed a deep orange, filling his vision and stinging at his eyeballs. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to close them as a thought struck him, freezing him in place more so than the concrete ever could.

Was this their doing?

Did they find him?

Were they trying to smoke him out, only to lay in wait to capture him again the moment he escaped his little safety net?

No.

He couldn’t risk it. He could withstand a little heat, if it meant his freedom in the end.

Pain was something he knew how to handle, after all.

He was not going back.

…

The rumbles weren’t dying down. If anything, they were growing in intensity and frequency as the heat rose. Building from the occasional thunderclap to the unforgiving and unending drum beat of war. It jostled and disoriented him as his surroundings were put into a constant flux. Even with little visual stimuli, he found himself growing nauseous as every sensation he was intaking pushed him to the extreme.

Still, he held on.

He would not give in.

Something let out a resounding pop near his stomach, directly over the still healing incision, and Danny instinctually curled inwards. He opened his mouth to scream but it was immediately swallowed up in the blistering material around him.

Pop!

His shoulder.

Pop!

Hip.

Pop!

Neck.

Right over where the inhibitor collar sat.

On and on it went. Small explosions all over his body. Sharp, piercing impacts that seemed to manage to dig past his skin into his very soul. Flickering his intangibility didn’t help. It just seemed to create even more pockets for the molecules to shift into.

Everything was hot and pain and-and

And he couldn’t think.

He couldn’t breathe.

With one final burst of intangibility Danny emerged from the wall, taking his first breath of air since he had entered, however long that was. It was only then, that he realized what he had done, immediately flinching back and generating a shield around himself.

But, he was wrong.

There were no guns.

Nothing was aimed at him.

They weren’t here.

What was here was a small group of whimpering children, shielded from a collapsed wall by some guy in a black and blue suit. The very same wall we had just materialized from, now partially impaling the guy as he tries not to be crushed to death under its weight.

What was here was a group of frantic individuals. Trying to navigate, not to safety, but to each other, even as any attempted route is cut off the moment any hope of making it is gained. As if some higher power is toying with the very lives below him.

What was here was some dude in a wild attempt at a fursuit facing off against a cackling clown.

…Danny wasn’t quite sure how to process that last one but it didn’t take a genius to figure out who was the instigator of the situation.

Ancients, Danny hated clowns.

What was here was a bunch of struggling and desperate people, not madmen intent on tearing his very being apart.

And Danny had just sat there, in a wall of all places as these people got hurt. As these children got hurt.

It was all his fault.

He’s nothing more than a coward and a monster.

With little thought to how much energy he had in his reserves, Danny flung out his arms, rapidly expanding his shield and coating it in a layer of frost. It passed over the humans harmlessly, but extinguished the flames and cooled down the air it swept over, quickly cooling from the unbearable sweltering that had permeated the air.

Floating down, he gently placed his hands on the fallen wall, careful not to place any extra pressure as he did so. Taking a deep breath in, Danny spread intangibility throughout the structure. The first time he consciously did so since that collar was placed on him in the middle of him using that power oh so long ago.

It…didn’t hurt.

He was fine and it didn’t hurt.

No shocks of electricity, no beatings, nothing.

Danny blinked down at his hands in disbelief, frozen for but a moment before a flash of blue below him broke him out of his head. He immediately spots three small children, staring up at him in awe as they hold hands, the only light in the room coming from his glow, muffled through the semi transparent wall. He shifts his eyes towards the movement that caught his attention before to find the man who was so well illuminated in the fire, now almost blending in the background with his dark suit. He stood there, swaying and dazed, facing the opposite direction of Danny. But, even with this lighting, he could see the nasty burns that ran throughout his body and through his ripped suit, the worst of them being on his side and shoulder.

Tossing the wall in the opposite direction, Danny floated down to eye level with the man, just in time to catch him as he finally lost his battle. He places a hand on each of the major injuries, gently casing them with ice. He’s careful with the temperature, trying to recall the lessons he used to have with Frostbite about healing ice and the different properties he could imbue into his. It's not perfect, but it's manageable.

He looks up just in time to see vibrant blue eyes open.

`~`

Standing- no hovering- mere feet in front of him, was a glowing child. With blinding white hair that moved as if he was under water and eyes reminiscent of the Lazarus Pits. For a heartstopping moment, Nightwing was afraid it was the ghost of one of the children he was urging to safety, but the kid is far too old to be one of them.

A meta?

With one arm wrapped around his stomach and the other supporting Nightwing, the kid steadies the vigilante, ensuring that he won’t collapse again before backing away and turning around. He still doesn’t touch the ground. The fluidity of his movements seem to portray that he belongs in the air, as if gravity was a mere suggestion to him. Nightwing has known plenty of people that viewed the ground as an option, but even in these few movements, he could tell that this was something else.

Suddenly, the temperature in the room, already having rapidly cooled down, plummeted further as the boy's hands glowed a brilliant blue, that of frost in the morning. His brothers cried out, weary of the mysterious newcomer but Nightwing could only look on in awe as the kid slammed his hands to the floor. Icy fractals spread out in a radial direction, smothering any wayward embers. It danced around his feet, fully avoiding him and the children as it continued on its journey. Even as the children laughed and cheered below him. On further inspection, the ice seemed to display intricate patterns as it glittered and glowed, casting a light blue hue over everything in the room. A great contrast to the blinding orange that had overtaken it not moments before.

Shouts of indignation broke him out of his reverie as Nightwing looked up to see the ice rapidly encase the Joker. He was mumbling something about the kid ‘spoiling his fun,’ even as the ice grew over his mouth.

It seemed that the clown had broken away from Batman and had attempted to go after the teenager only to find that the ice wasn’t so friendly to the man as it was to everyone else.

And just like that, it was quiet again.

No more mad men, trying to worm his ways into their brains. No more manic cackling eating at their eardrums. No more raging inferno, burning down what little stability they have left.

It was all just…frozen.

Still.

Like a lake hidden in a forest, mid-winter.

That was, until the Big Bat himself stepped forward, presumably to interrogate the new meta kid in the middle of his territory.

Even floating a couple inches off the ground, the teenager looked miniscule in the Bat’s shadow. Nightwing couldn’t tell if he actually was that small or if it was just the way he was holding himself, scrunched up like that.

Hang on…was he injured?

Nightwing surged forward, deftly stepping between the kid and the Dark Knight himself, ��B…” He started cautiously, soft enough as to not scare the actual injured child behind him, who seemed to be shaking more and more by the second. “Let’s not jump to conclusions here.”

Batman went to respond, getting as far as to open his mouth before a small noise behind him had Nightwing whipping around. Reaching out, he catches the kid as he finally succumbs to whatever injuries he accumulated before coming to their aid, gently cradling him in his lap as he settles onto the icy floor.

“B, I know what you’re thinking. But, this kid just saved our asses from this situation and he was already injured. Probably from one of the buildings collapsing. That’s on us. The least we owe him is some help and respect, not interrogation.” Nightwing stared down Batman.

He could try to pry the teenager from his fingers if he wanted, but he was not about to sacrifice the kid to the whims of the Bat. They could figure out his deal over time, later, if necessary, but there was a time and place for that and right now, right here was not it.

“Um.” Nightwing startled at the sudden presence of his younger brother bending over him to inspect the kid, “I don’t think he got those injuries from a building collapse.” Red Robin declared.

Nightwing furrowed his eyebrows at his brother in confusion. After all, if not from the fire or destruction, then from where? Following his line of sight down to the unconscious boy he was holding, Nightwing was granted a gruesome sight. There were injuries everywhere, some more telling than others. Some, very obviously more recent than others if the burns had anything to say about it. But two very prominent injuries stood out amongst the rest.

The first being a blackened ring around his neck, the majority of which Nightwing suspected to be hidden beneath his jumpsuit. It was hard to tell if the ring was so dark due to bruising or an even more sinister charring of the skin, but it was obvious something heavy and restrictive had laid there for quite some time.

A meta collar, if Nightwing would hazard a guess. A particularly cruel one at that.

The second was a sight that had the vigilante swallowing back bile, recalling the moments the kid had held his arm across his chest and stomach. He had assumed it was some sort of defensive measure, a way to keep his guard up, not a way to literally keep himself closed. Because the most telling injury of all was one that spanned the teenager’s midsection, from the collar bones to his stomach, still sluggishly bleeding even as he laid there in his lap.

A Y-incision.

Like that of a cadaver.

Oh, hell no.

`~`

Danny woke up to an odd mixture of quiet deep mumbling and monitors. Sounds that would typically set his anxiety on the rise but, for some reason, did not seem to register for him at the moment.

Instead, the first thing he noticed was just how light he felt. It had been ages since he woke up without a throbbing headache for one reason or another.

It was odd. He didn’t recall falling asleep…

His thoughts came to a screeching halt as he replayed the last few moments before his exhaustion overtook him.

Did-

Did he get captured after all?

A spike of fear washed over him but Danny squashed it immediately, knowing that any semblance of life could set them off. It would be more productive to take stock of his surroundings and prepare himself for what’s to come.

Still, it was odd. He was obviously in a new place, likely reinforced after his last escape, but there was no collar on him. His limbs weren’t chained down. Even the object that he laid on was much softer than any of the tables they usually had him restrained to.

He didn’t get it.

Why be nice to him now, after so long treating him as nothing more than an experiment to be used as they please?

It had to be a trick.

Leave him unshackled so that he has hope to escape again, then take it all away once he tries. They probably have guards standing at the ready, or maybe the walls themselves are reinforced to electrocute him the moment he touches them.

A loud and sudden bang nearly has Danny giving up the ghost right there, but years of practice allows him to remain as steady as a cadaver. Even as a new anxiety floods through him.

“So, I heard we caught another one?” A feminine voice calls out near where the bang sounded. It must have been a door.

“Spoiler!” A male voice this time. He sounds a little young to be doing experimentation like this.

“What?”

There is a moment of silence where Danny presumes some gestures are exchanged before a new voice adds in.

“He’s dead, Brown.”

Okay, who let a child in the inhumane experimentation laboratory? Danny understood apprentices and all that but wasn’t this a little too young to be forcing them to lose their innocence?

“He’s not dead.” Another new voice. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Danny couldn’t place it. Based on the direction, it sounded like it was the source of the mumbling that he woke up to so he attributed it to that.

“He doesn’t have a heartbeat, he’s not breathing, and he hasn’t moved since we placed him on the bed, Grayson. He’s dead.”

They…have really conditioned this kid well, huh? His speech patterns are very close to theirs. Though, it was odd that he still called him a ‘he’ and not ‘it.’ Danny supposed he would take what he could get.

It was odd how different the others spoke, though. He was struggling to comprehend it. Maybe it was their sadistic way of building up hope for him?

It was all a trick, after all.

“He’s clearly an alien. Maybe we’re just not looking at the right things. We’re detecting brain waves so he’s alive, at least.”

“He won’t be for long if we don’t figure out how to stop his bleeding.” The first male voice added in, voice surprisingly soft for how brutal his words seem to be.

“Is he…bleeding Lazarus waters?”

The girl’s voice had an odd mixture of shock and glee. Another thing Danny wasn’t quite sure how to comprehend, given the specific words she used. Would she not know this already?

Danny was confused.

Maybe they didn’t need to trick him into getting his hopes up. He was getting a headache trying to figure things out already.

“We’re not sure. All the tests have come up inconclusive, but every time we’ve tried to stitch him up, they’ve just dissolved almost immediately. Agent A tried to patch him up without it, but it’s not ideal.”

Patch him up…? Why would they try to patch Danny up?

Something seems to capture the occupant’s attention as the conversation suddenly dies down for another length of silence before the man with the familiar voice picks it up again, “What’s up, Orphan?” There’s more silence. “He’s awake?”

What.

“Hey kid, are you awake? Can you hear us?”

How did they know? He hadn’t moved at all! What gave him away?

“It might be hard, but if you can hear us, can you give us a sign?”

They were much closer now.

Shit.

He needed to get away. He needed time to think.

Would it be better to play dead?

No, they already knew he was awake. They’d just begin their work if he just laid there.

But they were clearly testing him on whether or not he’d escape. He didn’t know this base. Where it was located or what its layout was.

He was just going to fail.

He still had to try.

Even if this was a trick. Even if the walls were electrified and they would get some sick satisfaction from his downfall, this was the best shot he had.

He wouldn’t go back to having that damned collar on.

He opened his eyes.

White.

That’s all he saw.

The white of those too-bright lights as they beamed down at him from their spots on the ceiling. Shadows covered his peripheral but he paid them no mind. He wouldn’t be able to fight them in his condition anyway. He shot up out of his position until he hovered over their heads, careful not to touch the ceiling as various shouts rang out below him.

His eyes swept the room. He needed an escape route. He needed one now.

His eye landed on a black and blue suit. A familiar black and blue suit. With ice encasing the shoulder and side.

What?

Why is he here?

Was he a part of them this entire time?

Was it all just some massive trick?

Danny was so tired.

“Hey.” The man’s voice cut through, soft and gentle. “It’s okay. We won’t hurt you.”

That was a lie. They always lied.

“We’ll give you space, if that’s what you need. Just…come down from there, okay? You’re injured. You need to rest.”

That was a trick. They were just trying to get him back into place so that could hurt him again.

But then…why were they actually backing away?

“Please, you’re going to strain yourself more. You need to lie down so you can heal.”

He sounded desperate.

Would they hurt him if he didn’t do as he asked? Did they get him because of Danny, too?

Danny’s eyes shifted to his shoulder. Or was it because he was already injured? But, his ice should have healed that already.

Did he not know?

Slowly, Danny drifted down, ready to dart back up at a moment's notice. The lower he got, the more relief became visible in the man’s eyes.

That was, until Danny reached out.

It was a slow, tentative thing. One that the man allowed, even if the shadows of the rooms seemed to jump into tension at it, but confusion blossomed in his gaze that followed Danny’s hand.

It was a simple matter, to melt the ice once he touched it. It would have gone away on its own later once Danny released his connection to it, but given that he would have to melt the clown in the same breath, it likely would have stayed longer than necessarily comfortable for the man.

What lay beneath the expanse was smooth, unblemished skin. A sharp contrast to the burnt, bruised, and bloodied mess that it was before.

Danny pulled back, just enough to catch the man’s wide eyes and flick his gaze down to his side, silently asking for permission. The man offered a slight nod, his awe-filled stare unchanging as Danny went about it quicker this time, darting a healthy distance away once he was satisfied with his work.

There. That should help the man’s tension. Danny showed him that he was no longer injured and without his ice on him anymore, there should be no sense of concern.

Right?

Then why was he looking at Danny so strangely still?

“What’s your name? Do you have something we can call you by?”

They weren’t just going to assign him some group of letters or numbers? Or maybe they’ll disregard him once he gets comfortable? Some weird attempt to maximize his hurt?

Danny supposed it couldn’t hurt at this point. He didn’t really have high expectations out of these people but the most this could do is humanize him a bit to make their experiments a little more difficult to go through.

He opened his mouth to respond but no noise came out.

Danny frowned. It’s been a while since he’s even attempted to make a noise, much less talk, but surely he didn’t forget. He tried again.

Nothing.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself,” the man took a step forward as Danny floated back further, shaking his head.

Again.

This time he succeeded in making some noise.

It wasn’t words though.

He curled in on himself as his body convulsed, protecting his center and catching any ectoplasm he coughed up. It seems speaking wasn’t going to work for the time being.

It’s fine. It’s not like the man really wanted to know anyway.

Though he could use Danny’s refusal to answer as a reason to punish later.

Slowly, the fit died down. Allowing Danny to unwind his body again and catch sight of the man and the other occupants of the room.

He didn’t get it.

That was not the cold and uncaring looks he had grown so used within his time at the other facility. What were they getting at acting like this?

Danny almost wished they’d go back to the other way. At least he was familiar with that. At least he knew what to expect and could prepare himself accordingly.

This? He didn’t know.

He didn’t know what to do with the various looks of concern around the room. The tight grasps around whatever object they held. The wide eyes.

He didn’t know how to handle the man in front of him, one hand on the sidebar of the medical bed- a bed- as he visually stops himself from jumping to Danny’s side after he had retreated before.

It was all fake. An act. It had to be.

It had to be.

But.

If none of this was real and it was all inevitably going to end anyways, Danny supposed it couldn’t hurt reaping the benefits of their weird methodology in the meantime.

Glancing around the room revealed nothing for his immediate issue, so instead he wiped his hands free of any residual ectoplasm and hesitantly floated closer to the man. When the man did nothing but offer an encouraging smile, Danny angled his body to protect his center and reached out to grab his hand. Flipping it around, he spelled out the letters of his name on his palm, listening as the man breathed them back to him.

“Danny?” He asked, eyes lighting up, burning brighter than the fire Danny had doused not so long ago.

He nodded. Slowly, but sure.

The man beamed, “It’s nice to meet you, Danny! My name’s Nightwing.”

Danny had never seen a person so happy to know another’s name. He was practically outshining a star with how bright his smile was.

“I’m a hero in a nearby city, but I was visiting when everything went down,” he dropped his voice a bit as if he was trying to broach the next topic carefully. “Why were you in that building, Danny? It was quite dangerous.”

He froze.

Why?

Why was he in the building?

Wouldn't-

Wouldn’t he know that if he was with them?

Danny looked around the room, at the shadows hanging in the edges of the room. It took a bit of concentration, but slowly, the blurry edges focused into more familiar shapes.

Not all of them could be recognized, but some of the colors and patterns were reminiscent of those he saw with Nightwing before.

Danny narrowed his eyes.

Where was he?

Gripping Nightwing’s hand with a little more force than necessary, if only in a poor attempt to hide his own shaking, he hastily wrote ‘WHO ARE YOU’

“Who..?” Nightwing muttered before realizing Danny wasn’t exactly looking at him and whipping his head around behind him at the other occupants of the room. “Oh, these are the actual heroes of Gotham! There’s a few that are in the field right now but here we have Batman, Red Robin, Robin, Spoiler, and Orphan,” he gestured to each one in turn. It seemed that Spoiler wanted to introduce herself, but the girl next to her held her back, much to her chagrin.

They were…heros?

This…had to be a lie.

Right?

‘WHERE’

“We’re in Gotham right now, but we brought you to the Batcave after you collapsed for treatment.”

Danny nearly choked.

Instead, breaking into a fit of coughs as Nightwing frantically tried to support him.

‘BATCAVE’

Nightwing snorted, “Yeah, it’s a whole thing. You should see how many bat themed things we have around here. There’s the batcave, batmobile, batarangs.”

“Batplane.” Spoiler added in, causing Danny to whip his head towards her.

The tension in the room climbed again as everyone stared at Danny, waiting for his next move.

“Batshield,” Robin joined in, prompting everyone in the room to turn towards him instead. The child crossed his arms in response with a scowl, “Tt, were we not giving examples of bat themed items? Just because you cannot think of any, does not mean I am so inferior.”

This seemed to set the room off as suddenly Danny was surrounded by a myriad of voices that seemed to grow louder with each shout.

“Batclaw.” “Batpoon.”

“Bat Flyswatter!”

“Bat Shark Repellant!”

“Bat pom poms!”

What…was going on? This was nothing like their behavior.

What would a bat shark repellent even entail?

Was it a repellent for a certain type of shark similar to a bat version of the tiger shark? Did it use bats in the ingredients? Was the bottle shaped like a bat? What does this mean?

Danny wanted to know.

But first…he needed to make sure.

Grabbing Nightwing’s hand, a bit more gently this time, he diverted his attention back to him as the chaos continued to surge around him, “Hm? What’s up, kiddo?”

‘BATCAVE.’

“Yeah, we’re in the Batcave right now. Well, to be more precise, we’re in the med bay section of the Batcave. There’s more. It’s much more cave-like out there, though.”

‘SHOW’

“You want to see?” Nightwing quickly glanced around the room, then back down at Danny, expression complicated, “I guess, since we couldn’t hook you up to anything, it wouldn’t hurt…What do you day, B?”

There was a grunt from the corner of the room, which Danny assumed was good enough of a response for Nightwing because he continued as if he completely understood, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be careful. Look at him. Kid couldn’t hurt a fly. Besides, it’d be good for him to see things other than this room. He’s not imprisoned here, after all.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. Were they actually going to let him out of this room? Surely not.

“But!” Nightwing turned back towards him and Danny shrunk back, fully expecting the inevitable backlash, “You are still very injured. So, you will sit in the bed and I will wheel you around. And no floating either. You need to rest.”

He was actually going through with it? With the entire bed at that? Do they not have wheelchairs?

Danny waited for him to take back his offer, or someone to shout “Jinx!”, or something.

It never came.

Slowly, he glanced back up at Nightwing, who gave him an encouraging smile and nodded towards the bed. Tentatively, with the movements of one sentenced to capital punishment, Danny floated back onto the bed. He squeezed his eyes shut and held himself close to subdue his shivering as he laid down, but found himself duly unsuccessful.

If it was going to happen, it would occur now.

They would strap him in and that would be it.

His fate sealed as he foolishly walked right back into it.

“I’m going to lift your head up now, okay, Danny?”

That was it. They were going to lift his head and snap the collar back on. Danny took a deep breath and prepared himself, determined not to make the same mistake as last time.

The bed made a mechanical whir and his upper half was lifted into a semi-sitting position.

What? Where was the collar? The restraints? There’s no way Nightwing was actually going to give him a tour of this ‘Batcave.’

Danny peaked an eye open.

Nightwing grinned down at him, remote in hand. “Ready?” He handed Danny the remote. It…really was a control for his bed. That’s all. Nightwing put a hand on the bed frame, always in Danny’s frame of vision. “Do you mind if Red Robin helps on the other side? It might be a little difficult to do this alone.”

Danny stared at Red Robin. He was at the fire, too. He…had been trying to get to Nightwing. To help the kids.

He nodded.

“Alright! Then let’s get on with the tour!”

Within seconds, he was flanked on either side with the two vigilantes. Danny was expecting to bristle with the second presence towering over him, but he found himself much more relaxed than he expected.

It's a little difficult to be afraid of a man who just shouted ‘pom poms’ with such fervor.

What did get Danny to tense up was the initial jolt of the bed as the trio, as well as the rest of the Gotham hero’s at a much farther distance, began to make their way out the door.

This was it.

This would tell Danny if they were truly telling the truth, or if they were just going to transport him to his next location to be torn apart.

The air changed around them as they entered a room much larger than the previous. He heard a deep chuckle from Nightwing as they came to a brief stop, “You can look, you know? That’s kinda the whole point of bringing you out here.”

Danny blinked up at the hero blankly, only now realizing that he had shut them. It was in this action that he was able to glance at the stalactites hanging high above them.

This…was an actual cave.

He tried to push himself into a proper sitting position to get a better look around him but found himself being held back. But, rather than thrashing or fighting back, he stared confusedly at the hands that were carefully pressing back.

This incited another laugh from Nightwing as he reminded, “You can look all you want. We’ll walk around. But, you have to remain in the bed, alright?” Danny nodded. “When you’re ready, just point where you wanna go, and we’ll head there.”

If Danny was being completely honest, looking out over the Batcave from the enclave the med bay was tucked away in felt a little like looking at a page in those iSpy books he used to read when he was little. There was no end to the interesting and absolutely random hodgepodge of objects that heroes had deemed worthy of decorating the base with. From the seemingly life sized dinosaur, to a very much not life sized penny, to the absolutely ridiculous amount of monitors that would have had Tucker drooling if he could be here to see them.

It was…a lot.

A little too much, if the energy fading from his body told him anything. Still, he wanted to try one thing. One thing that they would never let him do, even if they were going all in on tricking him.

Making sure Nightwing’s eyes were still on him, Danny pointed up.

“Upstairs?” Nightwing looked a little alarmed and heartbroken at this, “I’m…not sure we can do that, bud.”

Was it out of the question? It raised red flags that they couldn’t, but perhaps there was another reason? Danny figured he’d try again and clarify.

He reached over to write on the hand holding the bed, ‘STARS’

“Oh! You want to go outside?” Nightwing glanced at Red Robin who just shrugged. “I don’t see why not? It’ll be a bit of a trek, if that’s okay with you?”

Danny nodded, a little faster than necessary.

“Okay, then, we just need to gra-oh! Orphan’s already got some blankets. We’ll need to put these on you, if that’s okay, and we might not be able to go out there for long, but if that’s what you want to see, we’ll take you there!”

Giving yet another affirmative to the vigilante, Danny allowed them to tuck him in as they saw fit. The blankets were surprisingly warm for how light and unrestrictive they were. He found himself running his fingers over the materials as they wheeled him down some corridor, marveling at the first soft fabric he’s been able to feel in his recollection.

That path is long, with many turns and corridors. It occurs to Danny that this was rather impractical for a group of vigilantes. Meaning that the confusing route was purposeful. On one hand, they likely were trying to preserve their identities, something that he could very well understand. On the other, he was still being brought along to an unknown destination and he couldn’t guarantee his safety until he was physically outside, looking towards the stars.

Just as Danny began to rub the blanket a little too hard, Nightwing’s voice brought him out of his reverie. He wasn’t wasn’t anything of consequence. Nothing that warranted Danny to respond. Just stories of some of the knick-knacks they passed, giving context and a history to them.

A reality too detailed to fake.

And Danny listens.

For the first time, he listens and hears the stories the vigilante tells. It's a little too much to believe them as truth, but he doesn’t immediately dismiss them as lies and trickery. Each new hallway and door still hides monsters of the unknown from Danny. But with every subtle flinch from the darkness, Nightwing's voice fills the void, soft and constant. And when that final door opens in front of him, Danny isn’t surprised to hear the faint chirps of crickets in the distance. The cool sensation as fresh air fills his lungs unnecessarily. The musky smell of the earth fresh from a rainstorm.

They…really brought him outside.

Danny is looking before the bed even exits the building, wanting to waste no time looking at anything but the sky. As the trio finally crosses the threshold between structure and freedom, he does.

It's breathtaking.

Quite literally. Danny stops breathing, having no need for such functions in the face of such beauty.

Above them spans the entirety of the cosmos. Millennia recorded and displayed, right before their very eyes. Stories woven throughout time to create a masterpiece equal to no other.

Danny nearly jumps out of his skin when something heavy lands on his shoulders, but quickly calms down when he feels the fabric. The very same he’d been fiddling with the entire journey to this spot.

A blanket.

Breaking his vision away from the sky, Danny glances down to confirm that, yes, a second blanket was now wrapped around him. In the process he notices his hand, now fidgeting with the blanket, was shaking uncontrollably.

He glances confusedly up at Nightwing, who just smiles back, “Take all the time you need. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

That…wasn’t it.

Danny wasn’t cold.

But…

Danny peaks over at the vigilante’s shoulder, now healed, then at his side, not a blemish to be seen.

And, for the first time since he was taken oh so long ago, he believes he is safe.

Truly safe.

Pulling the blanket around himself a little tighter, Danny snuggles into the warmth thinking that maybe, just maybe, the cold wasn’t so bad after all.

Danny’s hiding in the walls when the Bats corner the Joker and the clown starts spewing stuff about how if they kill him they’ll be just like him, one bad day etc. etc. so Danny just… freezes him.

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