#trapped hearts

[filthyjoetini]

Trapped Hearts

a/n: Hello. Hello. Another Joe fic. This time a one shot! Thanks for coming to my Angst-Talk. Buckle up and enjoy the ride. I had some pent up angst in me and it needed to get out. Thanks as always to @barfightzanddiscolightz for beta reading and editing and generally being the best!

warnings: Joe's being a major dick. Like. For real. Cursing. Big emotions.

wordcount: 4.6k

“Are you fucking kidding me? Stop that!”

“What?! We have to check everything! Otherwise, we’ll be stuck in here forever!”

“This is not how escape rooms work, Joe!”, you practically shrieked with frustration. You rolled your eyes as you tried to pry his fingers off the clearly fake window frame adorned with the escape room company’s logo sticker. “Did you not listen to the instructor? He clearly said that anything with that sticker on it, does not belong to the riddles...let it go!”

“Fine.”, he hissed, quickly withdrawing his hand from the fake window and out of your grip, wiping it on his trousers as if you’d sullied it with your touch. He then took a couple steps away from you to the other corner before opening his mouth again. “And don’t fucking touch me again.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Quinn. I won’t.”, you promised, your eyes rolling in exasperation which he didn’t seem to notice. With a frustrated deep sigh, you turned to walk in the other direction to check out a cupboard that you hadn’t searched through yet. Joe immediately answered your sigh with a scoff.

You had already been 45 minutes in which meant you only had 15 minutes left and you hadn’t even made it out of the first room yet. You had Zach to thank for all this. Fucking Zach, man. He had invited you to play an escape room duel with him, his girlfriend Iris, the sweetest human being that had ever graced this planet, and a mystery friend. Now, an escape room duel was a face-off between two teams, with the first team to escape winning. Piece of cake, right? But Zach, that utter moron, had failed to mention that the mystery friend would be none other than your sworn nemesis: Joseph Quinn. Seriously, he could’ve invited anyone but him.

Honestly, Joe and you hadn’t always been at odds. There was a time, from waaay back in primary school up to the day you graduated from secondary school, when you used to be best friends. You had even harboured romantic feelings for him, which started around year nine, but you never really made them known because you hadn’t wanted to jeopardise your friendship. So, you had just sat on them and suffered in silence when he would show up with his new catch of the month. Then he had gotten accepted to his fancy acting school and never showed his face anymore. You had tried to reach out but every time you did, he would dismiss you because “he didn’t have time” as “he had to rehearse for a play”. You had always offered to help him, and he would decline because he usually rehearsed with his school mates. For some unknown reason, he had even neglected to mention his plays, let alone invite you to them. After about a year of you trying to stay in contact you eventually gave up. The only thing that had remained was your mutual friend Zach. For some reason Joe had stayed in contact with him but not with you.

In the beginning, the fact that all of a sudden you weren’t good enough for him anymore had hurt you immensely, but with each passing year that hurt had turned into sadness which had morphed into anger and ultimately graduated into hatred. Zach would invite you out to chill at a park with the lads and lasses and you would always have a great time until Joe had shown up. As soon as you would spot him, you’d pack up your belongings and would leave with an excuse that “something had come up”. This had worked fine the first couple of times but after the fourth time, Zach had pulled you aside and demanded to know what was going on. You had explained that you and Joe had fallen out and that you didn’t want to see him anymore. You also had asked him to inform you if Joe would be attending so you could opt out in the future and to please never ask you about it ever again. You had left a confused Zach standing there as you stormed off, not noticing Joe’s longing stare, which had been set on you.

Over the years, you had seen Joe less and less. This had mostly been due to the fact that he had spent a lot of time abroad or in different parts of the country fulfilling his acting duties. The only time you would see, and largely avoid him, was at mutual friends’ birthday parties which had luckily taken place less than a handful of times a year. When your paths had crossed anyway, you would either look in a different direction, or if you had accidentally looked at each other you would send him the vilest glare you could muster.

The last time you had seen him in person was back in 2019 before the whole pandemic and his sudden rise to stardom. God, that had been the worst. His face had suddenly been all over the tabloids and various social media sites. You had even cancelled your Netflix subscription because you didn’t want his mug showing up in your suggestions.

And now here you were, stuck in a tiny room with him, literally and desperately trying to escape, not only for the game’s purpose, but also from him.

Whilst Joe was still grabbing at anything and everything, you finally found a key to a tiny padlock. You triumphally turned around and went straight for the padlock you had spotted earlier, which was attached to a small treasure chest. Inside that chest, you hoped to find the big key that would open the door to the next room. You squatted down and eagerly opened the chest just to be met with disappointment as it only contained a small piece of paper bearing yet another enigmatic riddle. With only five minutes left for you and Joe to escape, the daunting realisation set in that there wouldn’t be enough time to decipher the clue. Groaning you let your head hang down in defeat, when suddenly, the scrap of paper was ripped from your fingertips.

“Hey!”, you protested loudly. The abrupt movement of him taking the riddle from your hands made you lose your balance, and your bum ended up ungracefully plopping onto the floor.

“I’ve seen these symbols. They’re in the books!”, Joe exclaimed, disregarding your current predicament on the floor, not even bothering to help you up.

“It doesn’t matter, Joe. We’re out of time anyway.”, you explained in defeat whilst slowly pushing yourself up. “They will let us out in two minutes.”

Joe sneered and rolled his eyes at you.

“Yeah, and it’s entirely your fault that we’re out of time.”

“My fault?”, you sputtered in disbelief. How dare he?! MY FAULT?! That! Bitch!

“Yes.”, he replied with a finality that held nothing but malice. “It’s because you aren’t a team player. You’re a selfish little cunt.”

“What did you just call me?”, you asked Joe, clearly taken aback. Joe only gave you a dismissive glare and turned his back to you. You let out a shaky breath which resembled an angry huff you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in and stalked over to him. When you came toe to toe with him, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face. Stunned, Joe slightly recoiled in response to the sudden impact of your palm against his cheek. Fuming but satisfied, you pivoted and marched purposefully towards the emergency exit. With a deliberate pause, you turned around again to give him the finger before rapping your knuckles against the door.

“Hello?”, you shouted with urgency. “Can you please let me out? I don’t want to be in here anymore.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the door frame, waiting for someone to open the door. As you glanced up at the timer that hung from the ceiling, its display confirmed that the time had officially run out. Your attention shifted over to Joe, whose face was redder than a tomato, amplifying the visibility of your handprint. He was waiting impatiently to be let out of the escape room’s main entrance. When a couple of minutes had passed and neither the emergency door nor the entrance door opened you started to panic a little.

Hammering your fist against the door you started yelling.

“HELLO?! TIME’S UP! LET US OUT!”

Nothing.

“HELLO?! IS ANYBODY OUT THERE?!!! LET US OUT!”

Still nothing.

Oh no. OH FUCK.

Oh shit. We’re stuck.

You were stuck in a tiny room with Joseph Quinn of all people, the man you despised the most.

Slowly, you let your body slide down the wall next to the door and buried your head in your hands. Your breathing became shallow and erratic, and your vision blurred. Joe, who was still shouting for the employees to let you two out, was blissfully unaware of your impending panic attack.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening...”, you muttered breathlessly. Your fingers began to shake, and you unsuccessfully tried to choke back a sob.

When Joe heard it, he instantly turned around with the most annoyed look on his face.

“Are you seriously crying right now?”

“Shut up.”, you managed to gasp. Your breaths were coming in ragged bursts and each moment that passed seemed to steal more oxygen from your bloodstream, leaving you increasingly lightheaded. “I need to get out...before... bef-ore...”

It was now very hard to breathe, you couldn’t even form complete sentences anymore. Joe fortunately noticed the alarming shift in your demeanour and frowned.

“Hey...are you OK?”

You shook your head, your trembling fingers pointing to your chest as it rose and fell rapidly.

“Can’t... br-eathe.”, you choked out. As Joe realised what was happening, he immediately went into helping mode, taking quick steps towards you and dropping to his knees in front of you.

“OK. Come on. Look at me.”, he demanded quietly, and you slowly lifted your head, trying to focus on his face; it was a challenge through the tears that were uncontrollably flowing down your cheeks. You blinked rapidly, trying to get the tears out of your eyes. Once your sight had somewhat began to regain clarity, you noticed how close Joe’s face was to yours. His rich chocolatey orbs were staring right at you.

“Here you are...OK. Now breathe with me.”, he instructed, as he slowly breathed in through his nose and out again through his mouth. He did that with you until your breathing steadied.

“Thank you.”, you whispered, still hesitant to use your regular volume. You were genuinely amazed by how effortlessly he had managed to calm you down. His eyes radiated assurance, it was as if you could grasp the tranquillity they held, and you were suddenly able to breathe again. No one had ever had this effect on you. “Where did you learn that?”

“Learn what?”, he questioned, leaning back on his haunches and placing his hand flat on his thighs.

“The breathing technique.”, you replied, pushing yourself up a little to sit straight against the wall.

“Oh...uhm.”, he started, lifting one hand to the back of his head, scratching it lightly, “Well...you used to have panic attacks at school which I guided you through...I guess it was just muscle memory?”, the skin of his face suddenly held a faint hue of pink.

“Ah...”, you acknowledged. You both were still staring at each other. “Yeah...that must be it...thank you again.”

“No worries.”, he nodded, quickly averting his eyes as he pushed himself up into a standing position. “I think we’re stuck.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”, you muttered with a tired sigh, finally rubbing the tears from your eyes.

Joe didn’t respond to your comment but walked over to the opposite side of the room and sat down on floor.

---

After about fifteen minutes of you both trying to get whoever was out there’s attention while not speaking to and basically avoiding each other as best you could, you were the first to throw in the towel and decided to take matters in your own hands. You walked over to where you’d seen Joe put down the small piece of paper with the symbols and picked it up. You had seen some of the symbols too, they had been in the books on the shelf. You were able to find four out of the five symbols and their appointed numbers, which sure enough gave you the code to one of the padlocks, but you just couldn’t find the fifth symbol and it frustrated you to no end. Joe, who was moping in his corner, was staring at you the whole time and it wasn’t helping at all, it made you incredibly nervous.

After trying and failing for the umpteenth time at retracing your steps to find the missing symbol, you accepted your fate and gave up. You had to admit to yourself that you couldn’t do it without Joe, who had made no attempt to help you. So, you sat back down into what you decided was your spot. Leaning forward, you buried your head between your knees and let out the deepest sigh.

“I think they’re doing this on purpose.”, he finally spoke.

“Huh?”, you asked, lifting your head a little to look at him.

“Keeping us both locked in here.”, Joe elaborated. “It’s on purpose.”

“You think so?”, you asked defeated, “Why would they do that?”

“Dunno.”, he replied with a shrug, which you returned with a hard eyeroll.

“You think they’re doing this on purpose, but you don’t know why? Wow. Way to go Joseph. Your suspicions really contributed to finding a solution to this whole fucked up situation.”, you scoffed, and he gave you the finger in response.

“At least I’m trying to figure out what’s going on, unlike you who’s just sitting there and feeling sorry for yourself.”, he accused with a sharp edge to his voice.

“They locked us in here and aren’t letting us out! That’s what’s going on! I’m sure there are no ulterior motives behind it. They simply forgot about us.”, you rambled, and Joe shook his head.

“There’s CCTV in here. They have not forgotten about us, you idiot.”, he replied as if he were talking to a child. “It’s on fucking purpose.”

“Ugh. Please stop talking. You’re giving me a headache.”, you groaned and placed your hands over your ears, so you didn’t have to listen to his delusional words anymore.

In response he crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared daggers at you before he mopingly turned his back to you again.

---

Another 30 agonizing minutes crawled by, the deafening silence growing even more stifling, and they still hadn’t let Joe and you out of the room.

Boredom hit you like a freight train, so you tried to find different riddles to solve inside the room. After all, what else was there left to do? Joe, who had turned around once more when you had started making noise, was picking at his fingernails and began silently observing you roam around the room.

You were sitting on the floor, in the middle of the room, just about to complete a jigsaw puzzle when he suddenly spoke up from his designated corner.

“What happened?”

“Are you stupid?”, you questioned him, without looking up from your puzzle. “We’re obviously trapped in here...”

“No...”, he retorted whilst slowly standing up and making his way over to you. “What happened to us?”

You looked up at his towering form, eyebrow furrowed in curiosity. He sighed before he sat down opposite you and spoke again when you remained silent.

“Back then... after we graduated, what happened? You suddenly didn’t want to hang out with me anymore. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”, he stated, picking up a puzzle piece and placing it in its rightful position.

You scoffed and snorted at his statement. Was he fucking serious? You couldn’t believe the words he had just spoken.

“Are you fucking serious, Quinn?”, you seethed, your voice grew louder with each sentence, “I didn’t want to hang out with you anymore? Oh, that’s just fucking rich...YOU were the one who went off to your fancy little acting school and didn’t want to hang out anymore. I tried...oh and how I tried, to keep in touch with you. I offered to help you rehearse and you always declined. You didn’t even invite me to your plays!”

“...what? That’s not true.”, he tried to defend himself.

“Shut up! I’m not done yet.”, you snapped, holding up your hand to cut him off. Now it was your turn to glare daggers at him. “After a year of trying, I finally gave up. I told Zach not to invite me when you were around because I couldn’t stand seeing you. It hurt like hell at first because I didn’t understand why you would still want to always hang out with Zach, yet you acted like I meant nothing. I was so unbelievably furious. You hurt me so damn much, and yeah, I fucking hate you for that! I hate you! I HATE YOU!”

Angry tears were now cascading down your face and your body was visibly shaking. Joe, who was too stunned to speak, suddenly leaned forward, and pulled you into his arms, destroying the almost finished puzzle in the process of hugging you.

“Don’t touch me!”, you shrieked. “Let. Me. GOOOO!”, You tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t budge, only tightening his arms around you even more, holding you in place. You kept on squirming in his arms, trying to get out of his hold, yelling, shrieking, calling him all the names you could think of for what seemed like forever, but he still didn’t cave.

“Please.”, you eventually chocked out, your voice a defeated plea as you sobbed, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Please let go of me...it hurts...I hate youuuu.”

“Nuh-uh.”, Joe finally whispered into your ear, pulling you up a little. Hiccoughing, you let your head rest in the crook of his neck, feeling Joe’s word vibrate through your body, as he spoke again, this time in a normal volume.

“It’s true, I didn’t really hang out with you after I started drama school. But you have to understand, I was the new kid and I had to prove myself in order to be accepted by them. I had to rehearse with them, even though I would’ve loved to do it with you. But then you didn’t show up to my first real play and I got so disappointed and angry with you. I don’t know why you said that I didn’t invite you because I did. Zach and I had been out at Clapham Common skating when my mobile slipped from my pocket and got damaged. I had specifically asked him to forward the invitation to you, but now I see that he didn’t... that fucking dimwit, I’m gonna kill him.”

He took a deep breath before he continued, absentmindedly rubbing his hand up and down your back, and you allowed it. You didn’t have the strength to fight him anymore, so you let him.

“After I got my mobile back from the repair shop, I tried to contact you, but you had blocked my number. I even tried to message you via Facebook, but you had unfriended and blocked me there too which pissed me off big time. Stupid young me then decided that two could play that game, so I just started to ignore you even more than you ignored me. I had this plan, that you’d eventually give in and come back to me if I kept it going, but it backfired horribly. When Zach pulled me aside right after you’d left the park, once again just when I had arrived, and told me that you didn’t want to hang out with me anymore, it hit me hard. I realised I went too far, but I was young, full of anger, and stupid. I didn’t know what to do to fix things. So, I ended up doing what you did on those rare occasions we got to see each other and interact – either throwing insults or avoiding you altogether... what goes around, comes around, you know.”

Taking another deep breath, he moved his hand that had been rubbing your back to your hair and started massaging your scalp. You had long accepted that he wouldn’t let you out of his arms anytime soon, so you just listened to him and let him do what he needed to do.

“It was never my intention to make you hate me, you know.”, he was now back to whispering. “Knowing that you do hate me hurts a lot because...because...’cause I could never. Even after everything. Even after trying to and oh, how I tried. I just couldn’t. I...fuck. It’s the opposite, actually.”, he chuckled humourlessly.

This revelation suddenly sparked some left-over strength in you and leaned back, staring at him, mouth agape.

“The opposite?”

“Ugh. Yes. The opposite.”, he repeated.

“But the opposite of hate is love.”, you stated, mind totally blank.

“Yes.”

“You love me?”

“Yes, silly.”, he groaned, closing his eyes. “I’ve always loved you. At first it was strictly platonic, you know, being best friends and all...but when I went off to drama school, I noticed how much I missed you. I missed your hugs, I missed your smile, I missed being close to you. I even missed things we never even did together. Well, missed is the wrong word here, I longed for them. But you not wanting to be friends with me anymore put a spoke in my wheel and I just let it go.”

“You can’t love me!”, you sputtered astonished. “I... I hate you a-and you hate me.”

“Wrong. I just said, I tried to hate you, but I couldn’t. Because I LOVE YOU.”, he declared, tightening his grip on you once more.

“Joe. You called me a cunt mere hours ago.”, you argued, letting out a confused laugh, new tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You were frustrated with all the new information your overstimulated brain had just received. How could he love you when he treated you like shit? You knew that he had just explained it to you, but you couldn’t fathom what was happening. He had hated you and now he didn’t, and you had learned to hate him...or had you? You instantly started to doubt yourself. Was it really hate you felt for him the past ten years or was it more about the deep hurt, anger, and sadness that had consumed you when you lost your best friend – the person you’d hoped would become your boyfriend? Maybe...you weren’t sure. You just continued staring at him, with a blank face and reddened eyes. A thousand thoughts spinning in your head.

“...and I’m really sorry for that, because you are not a cunt...you’re far from being one.”, he apologised wholeheartedly, hand still gently stroking your hair. “I’m so very sorry...for everything. The way I treated you was beyond cruel. I was young and dumb. But mostly I was hurt because of your constant avoidance, and instead of being the bigger person and seeking you out to find the root cause of it all, I treated you like shit.”

You just kept staring at him, blinking slowly. A few stray tears escaped the inner corners of your eyes and Joe looked back at you expectantly. A couple of moments passed where neither of you said a thing. With each passing second the tension between you increased and Joe grew more nervous, his unease became almost palpable. He had just bared his soul to you and your lack of a reaction lead him to believe that this whole thing was a grave mistake. Panic started to etch onto his face, and he suddenly seemed so vulnerable. You could practically read his thoughts - You really, really must hate him - which made your own blank expression soften slightly in response, and you knew what you needed to do in order to dispel his thoughts.

“Joe...”, you started slowly. “I...thank you...uhm, for apologising. It really means a lot to me. I want to apologise too. God, this is so stupid.”, you paused, letting out a quivering breath because you started to get all choked up again. “We were so stupid. Why are we so stupid?”, you asked, mostly yourself as you shook your head once, twice, three times. Joe was sitting still, waiting for you to continue with bated breath.

“I’m sorry. For immediately thinking you hated me and didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I’m sorry for being mean and treating you like shit. I'm sorry for not reaching out to you to talk about it...I was just so hurt and confused...I’m sorry.”, you were now full on crying again and Joe pulled you closer to his chest once more, muffling your speech. “...Also, I’m sorry I said I hated you because to be frank, I don’t...I was just so very angry with you and the whole situation. I don’t hate you, Joe...I actually love you too and I have for so many years.... fuck, this is just a huge fucking misunderstanding because two dumb, insecure teenagers didn’t know how to communicate properly. I’m so sorry.”

Suddenly, you felt something wet on the crown of your hair and you slowly looked up and saw silent tears dripping from the tip of Joe’s nose. It was now your turn to tighten your arms, which had snuck their way around his torso.

You returning his previous affection made him sob faintly and he slowly opened his mouth, his scared, big brown eyes set on yours.

“I missed you so, so much.”, he whispered, now suddenly afraid someone could listen in on your conversation.

“I missed you too, so so much.”, you replied equally as soft. “I missed your hugs, and your smell, and your stupid fucking grin… but most of all I missed your useless facts about random places in London.”

The last point made Joe chortle out loud.

“Shut up, you didn’t miss those, you hated them.”

“Yeah, I hated them...still do.”, you replied, letting out a tearful chuckle.

Both of you let out a simultaneous sigh, leading to another round of giggles. As the laughter subsided, you shook your head once more and finally looked up at him. His eyes held a foreign sparkle. Not foreign in the sense that you hadn’t seen it before, because you had, but it had never been directed at you. The sparkle paired with a broad grin on his lips made your cheeks grow hot and you tried to avert your gaze. Before you could turn your head, his hand had snuck from your back to your jaw and held it in place.

“Can I kiss you?”, he inquired softly, caressing your jaw with his thumb.

“Yes.”, you responded firmly.

His lips met yours in a needy, salt-stained kiss which you eagerly reciprocated. A soft moan escaped your lips, encouraging Joe to deepen the kiss further. When you both ran out of breath, you reluctantly pulled back, your foreheads meeting in an intimate pause. The remnants of your kiss lingered, leaving Joe’s and your lips tinted rosy red and slightly swollen, small smiles of happiness gracing your mouths.

Just as you were about to lean in for another kiss, the door to the escape room opened, causing both you and Joe to quickly turn your heads towards it.

An obviously very pleased Zach, accompanied by a blushing Iris, stood in the doorway, holding up a sign that read:

CONGRATS, YOU MADE (IT) OUT!

THE END

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @xlilithb @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @miserybeans @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey (thank you for helping with the title.) @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @hollster88 @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @fromasgardandback @captainonaboat @josephquinnsfreckles @emilyslutface

crossed out = couldn't tag.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Vanessa loves the Vanny “animatronic”

[deadpoets]

DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) dir. Peter Weir

[dykestache]

new heart bong 🫀

[shittysawtraps]

guys help i was on a date with a guy i’ve been going out with for a couple months and we were talking about saw since we’re both horror fans. and he mentioned that he and his friends have a bit where they make up their own jigsaw monologues. so i said “oh i have a blog that does something similar” and he asked me what the name was, and he looked this blog up. and then he yelled, “THIS IS YOU? OH MY GOD. THIS IS WHY WE DO THAT BIT! I LOVE THIS BLOG. I’M SO INTO YOU. OH MY GOD. THIS IS YOU?” right in the middle of the mall food court. i know this sounds like a fake tumblr story but this really fucking happened to me today. holy fucking shit.

[gleafer]

LOGI NOOOOOOO!

Logi YES!

[starjunkyard]

Obsessed with the degrees to which james wilson is a messy bitch. Primps and preens himself whenever he realises his boy best friend is stalking / sabotaging / psychological-warfare-ing him. Slept with his terminal patient. Immedicable people pleaser. Chronic adulterer. Three ex wives. PROPOSED TO HIS GIRLFRIEND AT SOMEONE ELSE'S WEDDING? Fuck you doin in the oncology wing my boy. Psychiatric ward is on the left corner

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I *need* to get pregnant by him.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[taytei]

trios of assholes are my favorite - especially of the sibling variety

[respectthepetty]

Do you think the reason Joke wouldn't take off his shirt is because all his tattoos are basically an ode to Jack?

Because his heart is on full display when it comes to Jack and he can't hide it even though he tries?

And do you think Joke would've made a good doctor?

Or is he only being this gentle because he doesn't want to hurt Jack more than he already has?

[hyuckonia]

epel makes world famous harveston apple popcorn for entertainment and then jade leech proceeds to annihilate their sorry asses 🤯🤯💪💪😱😢😢😢

[filthyjoetini]

soon...

[recycledraccoon]

Burrows End is SO SO good and Aabria is such a master of story telling. This season, despite being genuine DnD vs other systems Aabria has used, hasn't actually seen all that much full blown combat. Like, of course they've fought things throughout, but it's been so much more information hunting and puzzling together all the lore. But this obviously means those scenes we do have such full blown COMBAT with sets so much more important, which was obvious in the reactor....but the bear....so obviously it's been focused on in reference to Tula's reveal, or as a show of how fucked up biology wise this world they live in is and how dangerous it is in the forest.

But it's also Aabria laying such incredibly subtle groundwork. It's showing us "this is possible in this world. This happens. They can get inside of you, burrow into you, and you will be their walking warren. Parasite and host intertwined."

And then we move on...we focus on the secrets of the first stoats and learning of all these human things, and the chipmunks and bear are just fun tidbits to throwback to about how scary and fucked up things are, but no longer relevant.

Last week we heard those tapes, and I thought "that voice change there...the 'they're so sneaky'...was that a first stoat, who we only heard as squeaks, instead speaking through Dr. Wenabocker as he died?"

And I forgot about the bear too.

But the SECOND it was revealed that Wenabocker left, that his body was gone and that Phoebe left too? It all clicked.

The Bear wasn't just a fun, really cool fucked up battle set for an episode, it was incredibly important foreshadowing. The foundation, the trap, the big bad all at once hidden behind a cool, fucked up bear in the second goddamn episode of the season.

[emblazons]

"You will answer for what you've done!" "You cannot control us!" "And you will not claim us—ever!"

Clive Rosfield, Dion Lesage & Joshua Rosfield in FFXVI aka: the Tri-Disaster Trio (Hellfire / Megaflare / Revelation) + full eikon set

[maedhrus]

it strikes me once again in episode 10 when crozier says that he "knows little's nature" and that he would be there with men and guns at day's end, he's absolutely right. he does know edward's nature. it's almost exactly what little said to rally the men, "we have hickey's camp outnumbered and outgunned." edward is ready to march all the men he can gather to rescue crozier, just as francis thought he would. what crozier doesn't know is le vesconte's nature. he doesn't know the nature of the men. he isn't aware that edward himself is being mutinied against because he's once again unable to see the similarities between himself and his second. because, just like in terror camp, he's placed expectations on edward without realising that the context in which edward is operating has very drastically changed. he's thinking of edward's loyalty but not edward's own duty to the men (a duty crozier shares!) and that edward's orders don't exist in a vacuum. it's just the debate about arming the men played out again but with debatably worse consequences

[nanenna]

Title: The Parent Trap Fandoms: Batman (DC Comics) and Danny Phantom Ships: None AUs: Demon Twins Warnings: Character injury, discussions of death.

Summary: It was just an ordinary night on patrol until...

“We need an evac,” Dick said, cutting the chatter off, “bird down.”

“Spoiler, you’re the closest to the cave. Nightwing, who’s with you?” Barb asked, “And how bad is the injury?”

“Robin,” Dick replied with some confusion before adding on with confidence, “a leg injury, we’re pretty sure it’s broken.”

“Robin?” Tim couldn’t help blurting out, looking over at Damian next to him, perched on his bike in full Robin costume. “But here’s right here, with me.”

---

Damian had been acting strange for the week or so. Rather, Robin had been acting strange for the last week. Not many people actually lived full time in the manor anymore, but everyone agreed that during the day he was his usual self. During patrols, however, he was simply a little… off. Like tonight for instance: Batman was away from Gotham on official Justice League business and Nightwing had agreed to cover his usual patrol route; normally Robin would tag along with Nightwing, giving the excuse that he needed to make sure Dick did the route correctly while everyone knew the demon brat really just wanted to spend more time with his favorite brother. But tonight…

“I will be joining you on your case, Drake.”

“You will?” Tim asked skeptically. Dick had already suited up and left, yet instead of scrambling to go catch up here Damian was, already all suited up, demanding to join Tim of all people.

“You are doing a stake out for street racers, correct? What will you do when they inevitably split to lose you?”

He sadly had a point, having someone else there would help. “Are you going to stab me?”

Robin didn't say anything, simply stood there and stared Tim down.

After standing there for a full minute, Tim sighed and headed for the vehicle bay, Robin hot on his heels. Without another word they donned helmets and slung legs over their bikes. Weird, but not unheard of, just another thing that was a little off. Not that Tim was entirely unhappy, he wanted a chance to observe Damian’s behavior. Even if he thought Dick was more likely to get Damian to open up.

…

And Tim was bored. The first half of patrol was quiet and uneventful, the street racers hadn’t shown up at their usual time/place yet, and Damian hadn’t said a damn thing the whole night. It’d just been the two of them riding around, not finding anything that needed their attention, and just being… normal. At least the usual chatter from the others was there to keep him company.

“We need an evac,” Dick said, cutting the chatter off, “bird down.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Spoiler, you’re the closest to the cave. Nightwing, who’s with you?” Barb asked, “And how bad is the injury?”

“Robin,” Dick replied with some confusion before adding on with confidence, “a leg injury, we’re pretty sure it’s broken.”

“Robin?” Tim couldn’t help blurting out, looking over at Damian next to him, perched on his bike in full Robin costume. “But here’s right here, with me.” The shadows around them grew deeper, seemed to sharpen.

“What? No, I’m looking right at him.”

“Well so am I!” 

“I’ve got your cams up and… well shit,” Barb murmured.

“Oracle,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? said into the quiet comms, a hand up to his helmet, “send me Nightwing’s location.”

“Robin,” Oracle started, only to be interrupted.

“We’re in sector 36,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? replied, going so far as to give longitude and latitude coordinates and a description of the building roof they’re on.

“Copy that,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? said before revving his bike’s engine and taking off.

Tim would never admit to nearly losing him due to sheer shock. Too busy screaming “What the fuck” in his own head to remember he needed to follow, but follow he did. This… this might explain Damian’s strange behavior over the past couple weeks. If there was an imposter running around with them, but they would have surely noticed, right?

“We can’t have everyone abandoning their patrols!” Barb said in clear frustration. Heard clearly because the chatter was still gone, nothing but dead silence. You would think everyone would be demanding answers, peppering the Robins with non-stop questions. Hell, Tim wanted to, but he was too busy keeping his bike under him as he chased after his Robin.

“Red Robin and I are on motorcycles,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? told Barb, “which means we have the small vehicle first aid kits, including analgesics, splints, and extra bandages.”

“We could use the splints,” Dick said faintly.

“And doing first aid before evac arrives means less time faffing about once Spoiler arrives.”

Tim nearly crashed, barely righting his bike. To hear Damian’s voice say “faffing about” was just… weird. Does that mean Tim’s Robin was the imposter?

“You all are faffing about right now,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? grumbled before hissing.

“Stay still,” Dick chided.

Okay, so maybe “faffing” was a phrase Damian had recently learned from a classmate or something, Tim sure didn’t know. And oh thank god, they must have arrived. Damian? Robin? Some imposter? was parked on the sidewalk, helmet already off and just pulling the field kit from the bike’s storage. He didn’t even spare Tim a glance, simply looked up at the very tall building, looked down at his grapple, shrugged, put the grapple away, and then lifted off the ground and into the air.

“Shit,” Tim said softly but with feeling.

“What?” Barb asked, clearly very tense.

“I think my Robin was the imposter, he just flew up the building. Like Kryptonian flew.” Is this Jon? Were he and Damian pulling a Bruce and Clark? Except it couldn’t be, Jon had started packing on muscles while Damian was still in the lanky growing-taller-before-filling-out stage.

“Really, akhi?” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? asked in exasperation.

“Hey, the jig is well and truly up at this point,” Damian? Robin? Some imposter? replied.

Okay, that was really weird to hear in Damian’s voice. And oh wait, maybe Tim should get up there too.

“Oh shit, there really is two of them!” Dick said in shock. “Uh… hello there… other Robin?”

“Hello Nightwing, I brought the kit. I…” Damian paused, then sighed into the comm, “akhi, what did you do?”

Damian tsked, “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Your leg is broken!” Damian yelled.

“Did you see that with your x-ray vision?” Damian asked.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not Kryptonian,” Damian replied. “I don’t have x-ray vision.”

“Sure sound Kryptonian,” Tim muttered under his breath. The Robin that flew had slipped into a faint Midwestern drawl that reminded him of Clark.

“Can you just give me the kit?” Dick asked both warily and wearily.

“Right, yes. Here.” 

Tim had made it onto the roof by that point, just in time to watch one of the Robins hand over the kit to Nightwing before kneeling next to the other Robin, who had his leg stretched out in front of him while he sat half propped up on his elbows. The laying down Robin (the real one? The one that hasn’t shown any meta powers yet, anyway. Is one of them the real Robin or were they both imposters?) let himself fall fully on his back and held a hand out. The meta(?) Robin kneeled next to him and took his hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

“I am more worried about you, you’re not used to this.”

“Yeah, normally I’m the only one getting hurt, and I usually don’t have bones when that happens.” Imposter Robin laughed at that.

“What the fuck?” Tim said under his breath, what does that mean?

“Focus,” Dick chided as Tim came to join him in tending to Damian’s(?) injury.

“Batcopter ETA five minutes,” Barb said. “Agent A has the medbay prepped.”

Imposter Robin flinched at that. Odd.

“Focus,” Dick hissed. “Save the mystery for after we get our downed bird home.”

Tim almost pointed out they couldn't be sure either Robin was even the real one, but a scathing look from Dick that burned even through the domino white outs had Tim snapping his mouth shut. Instead he nodded and set about helping Dick set and splint Robin's leg.

Steph arrived right on time, between Dick, imposter Robin, and Tim they got the real(?) Robin loaded onto the batcopter. Then the imposter pulled something from his costume and tossed it at Dick.

“Keys?” Dick asked.

“We gotta get Robin's bike back to the cave somehow.” He hopped into the batcopter and settled next to the injured Robin.

Dick held out the keys, “And as Robin shouldn’t-”

“No,” the imposter interrupted. “I’m not leaving him.”

Seems it was Tim’s turn to be the voice of reason. He put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “Robin trusts him, we’ll meet them back at the cave in a minute.” If the injured Robin even was the real Damian, if the imposter didn’t use his unknown powers to escape, if any slew of unpredictable situations. Holy hell, Tim could see why Bruce was so paranoid about knowing everything about everyone. He’d be in the middle of three panic attacks and an existential crisis on top of a heart attack if he were here right now. But he wasn’t, thankfully. Instead Tim pulled Dick away from the batcopter so Steph could take back off and head to the cave.

Soon Dick and Tim were on their respective bikes, Nightwing looking ridiculous on Robin’s candy apple red paint job, and were zooming through the streets at a pace that was while fast still gave Tim time to actually think. He went back over everything the two Robins had said since Nightwing had called in for an evac. And then it hit him.

“Akhi.”

“What about it?” Dick asked.

“It’s what they called each other.”

“Brother,” Cass added in her soft voice.

“Right, in Arabic. They called each other brother. And recently Robin told us about his twin brother.”

“Are you telling us that Robin’s twin brother came back from the dead and decided to just… join us on patrol?” Dick asked in disbelief.

“He told us several weeks ago, and has been acting odd on patrol for nearly two weeks now. If when he told us was when he found out, or at least started planning this, then they had a few weeks for Robin to give his twin a crash course on us before pulling this stunt.”

There was muffled laughter in the comms, but Tim wasn’t sure who.

“But why?” Oracle asked.

“A prank?” Dick asked.

“A test of some kind,” Tim said in a monotone. There was a double tap on the comm, Cass’s form of nonverbal agreement.

“The batcopter has arrived back at the cave,” Oracle informed them. Everyone else grew quiet, waiting for whatever was about to happen to happen.

“... -nk went too far,” Damian (or his twin?) was saying into the comm.

“TT, it did not,” Damian replied.

“You couldn’t taste their emotions,” okay that was the twin, and what a weird way to phrase that, “they were really scared.”

“You like the taste of fear.”

Wow, Damian, really not helping with how creepy your long dead twin is being.

“Well yeah, obviously, it’s delicious. That doesn’t mean it’s okay to go around purposefully scaring your family.”

Fear is delicious?!

“What does it matter? As you said, ‘the jig is up’ and the prank is over. We will have to explain ourselves when the others arrive.”

“Others like me?” Steph asked cheerfully.

“Great, time for the great bat interrogation,” the twin said with exactly zero enthusiasm.

“Not until Master Damian has been seen to,” Alfred said. Tim could just see the raised eyebrow.

Tim tuned the rest out as those actually in the cave set about the logistics of getting Damian moved to the medbay.

“He can taste fear?” Tim asked incredulously.

“You know as much as the rest of us,” Dick said back.

“Does that make him an empath? He said he’s not Kryptonian, would that make his power suite closer to a Marian? Wait, neither Talia nor Bruce have the meta gene, how’d he even get powers?”

“Maybe he got them from the Lazarus Pits?”

There was a snort in the comms, “Then why didn’t I get powers?”

“Hood? What’re you doing on our comms?” Dick sounded far too delighted.

“I have an alert set up for whenever your chatter stops, it’s always a bad sign.”

“Fair enough, you heading to the cave to meet the demon brat’s long lost twin?”

There was a scoff from Jason, “Of course!”

“Everyone’s headed for the cave,” Oracle said with a tone of defeat.

“Stuck in ops?” Dick asked.

“Well someone has to keep an ear on things while the rest of you get to go have fun.”

“We’ll keep our comms on.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Tim and Dick both laughed at that. Fortunately they arrived back at the cave at that point, quickly parking their bikes and all but running over to the medbay. Steph was standing just outside the door, clearly keeping an eye on things while Alfred and the twin fussed over Damian. Tim and Dick went to go join Steph at the door, none of them willing to risk Alfred’s wrath should they get in his way. Cass joined them shortly after, all four staring as Alfred finished up what he could do for Damian. The demon brat was laid out on a medical cot, his costume set to the side, down to just the thin layer worn under the armor, mask already removed.

“Leslie has been called, she’ll be here in the morning with the necessary supplies. I’m afraid you will have to remain here until then, Master Damian.”

Damian tsked, but otherwise said nothing.

“And now I do believe we are all owed an explanation.” Alfred turned ever so slightly as his attention turned to Damian’s twin.

Damian responded by struggling in his bed.

“What are you doing, akhi?” the twin asked, clearly exasperated.

“I will be sitting up for this,” Damian snarled.

Without a word Alfred handed Damian the bed’s controls, allowing him to slowly raise himself into a reclined sitting position. Alfred raised a brow as if to ask if that would do, Damian only glowered at the wall.

The twin started pulling his domino off. Damian tsked yet again and handed his twin a wipe to help pull the mask off. “Ancients,” the twin said, which Dick mouthed in confusion, “you lot sure do love your theming. And I thought the ghosts had it bad.”

“Ghosts?” Tim mouthed, exchanging quick, confused glances with Dick.

“So yeah, hi. I’m Danny, Damian’s long lost twin.” The twin, now known as Danny, said with a little wave after he got the domino off. And there was no denying that he was Damian’s twin, he had Damian’s face in every feature save his eyes. While Damian clearly had Talia’s eyes, Danny’s were all Bruce.

“Everyone, this is my brother, Danyal Al Ghul Wayne.”

“Legally not my name anymore.”

“Legally?” Tim asked.

“Yeah, I got adopted!” Danny grinned again, all sunshine and cheer that was so wrong when he had Damian’s face.

Tim snorted, Bruce’s kid had been adopted. Oh things just got complicated but the irony of Brucie being on the other end of a kid getting adopted was still a fun kind of irony. Or maybe Tim had gotten to the everything-is-hilarious stage of sleep depravation.

“So what is your legal name?” Dick asked.

“Um… I’m not sure I should tell you that.” Danny fidgeted nervously. “Not yet anyway. I mean, Bruce… uh… our father? Isn’t here and like… shouldn’t he be told? Too? Or first? Honestly I’d rather just be able to tell everyone at the same time rather than having to go over the whole thing every time someone new walks in the door.”

As if he had timed it to happen that way, Jason came roaring into the cave on his bike. There was a collective sigh as everyone crowding around the outside of the door knew they’d have to wait for Jason to get there before things could continue, even if he had been listening in along with Oracle on his way in.

Danny’s face lit up as Jason, still wearing his full Red Hood gear, came into view. He whooped and threw both hands in the air as he ran out the door, somehow not even touching any of the vigilantes crowded in the way.

Jason stopped dead, his own hands raised up halfway in front of him as if unsure what to do. Danny just slapped both of Jason’s with his own in a kind of low five, then bounced excitedly in place. “Undead solidarity, yeah!”

“Uh… what?” Jason’s modulated voice asked in its usual monotone.

“I’ve been dying to meet you!”

“Heh, have you? Were you dead set on meeting the best?”

Damian groaned, “Stop encouraging Danyal’s insipid sense of humor.”

“Yeah, you’re the best!” Danny continued as if Damian hadn’t said a thing, “My favorite new brother!”

Dick gasped and clutched his chest.

Jason pointed at him and laughed as he slung an arm over Danny’s shoulders. “I see you are a kid of taste. How do you feel about Jane Austen.”

Danny winced, “My dude, I’m a guy in high school.”

“And so was I once, but we can’t all have my impeccable taste.” He started walking Danny back over to the medbay. “Anyway, Bruce shouldn’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, we really going to wait that long for the whole story?”

Danny winced, then cursed quietly under his breath. “We’ll have to, something just came up.”

Everyone frowned at that, “What do you mean?” Damian asked.

“The real deal got into a fight and uh… they’re pretty strong. I think I’m gonna need to recombine.”

“What?” Jason said, it was hard to tell if the flatness was his own voice or the modulator.

“Oh uh… I’m a… what’s that word again… doppelganger! That’s it. The main body’s back home and,” he winced again, a bruise blooming across his cheek in real time. No, in double time, it was like watching a time lapse of a bruise blooming and slowly starting to heal. “Look, having my attention and powers split like this is normally fine, a good way to keep my powers in check for fighting normal humans actually. But uh… let’s see… I think I’m fighting Plasmius?”

“We don’t know who that is,” Damian said with a sigh. “He keeps saying names of people or things like I’ll know what it means.”

“It means I can’t afford to have my attention and powers split over two bodies, so I’m about to poof. Sorry. But I’ll be back tomorrow, summon me after school Dami?”

“Summon?” Everyone but the twins asked in confusion.

“Of course, Danyal. Good luck fighting your rogue.”

“I think the fruit loop counts as my arch nemesis, unfortunately. But I gotta sorta slide back, can’t have all of tonight’s memories and my half of the power hit me all at once. This might look a little freaky, but it’s normal and I’m fine I promise.”

Jason unslung his arm from Danny’s shoulder and took a step to the side. They all gawked as Danny closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, his breath frosting in what should be warm air. His face, the only part of him not covered by the Robin costume, started to go invisible at the same time his skin and hair started to gray. Then he was gone and the costume was left behind, slumping to the floor in a pile.

Everyone stood there for a moment, staring at the colorful pile of armor, then they all turned to look at Damian.

“TT, don’t ask me. I still don’t have a full list of everything he can do.”

---

Tim, along with everyone else, was at the manor the next afternoon. And he did mean everyone, even Kate, Harper, and Cullen were there. Hell, even Jason was there, on time no less. Damian had put “17:30 sharp” in the family (minus Bruce) chat and they knew he meant it. They were crowded into one of the larger sitting rooms, every chair filled save a chaise lounge that had been reserved for Damian. The boy of the hour arrived right on time, with five minutes leeway to set everything up.

“So tell me again who you want to introduce us to, chum?” Bruce asked as he followed behind Damian. Alfred brought up the rear, a plate of fresh cookies in hand.

“I haven't told you yet, Father. Have some patience, it will all make sense soon.” Damian settled on the lounge, setting his crutches to lean against it before pulling something out of his pocket. It was a small metal container, he popped it open and pulled out what appeared to be a bright green handkerchief. Very bright green, possible letting off light, neon toxic green. Duke made a soft surprised sound. Damian spread the cloth out on the coffee table in front of him and smoothed it out.

“Damian,” Bruce said carefully, “what is that?”

“A summoning circle, obviously.”

Wait, Danny was serious about being summoned?

“Can… can you even summon living people?” Dick leaned over from where he was perched on the couch’s arm to whisper to Cass, who was perched behind Tim on the couch’s back. Tim and Cass both shrugged.

“Damian, dealing with the occult is very dangerous.”

“It’s quite safe, Father.” Damian pointed down at the white markings on the handkerchief, “Since all the sigils are on here permanently there is no chance of making a mistake drawing them by hand. This group here is his name, this circle can summon one person and one person only. The rest of these are for protection. And this spot here,” Damian tapped on a small circle within the outer ring, “is to activate it. It does require a single drop of blood, it was the safest way to make the circle.”

“Blood?” Bruce asked flatly.

“It will make sense when I call him, do you trust me?”

“I’m not sure I trust whoever this “him” is,” Bruce grumbled.

“But do you trust me, Father?”

Bruce sighed, “You promise whoever this is means us no harm?”

“Of course, I promise.”

“I met the young man last night,” Alfred said as he placed the plate of cookies in the circle. “I found him to be polite and sincere.”

“So this is to do with whatever happened last night that I can’t get any of you to tell me about?”

“We want to explain it ourselves,” Damian said firmly. Then he pulled out a batarang and carefully poked a finger. “Blood of my blood, I call forth the spirit of my brother, Danyal.” He touched the drop of blood to the handkerchief, which lit up as the air around them shifted. 

A figure began floating up from the circle, glowing white hair that waved as if they were under water, ashen skin, glowing Lazarus green eyes, a wide smile filled with sharp fangs. This… this wasn’t Danny, was this? The figure seemed to be wearing some kind of black jumpsuit, white gloves picking up the plate of cookies as they passed through the plate. They had no legs, after the belt the body just continued in a long tapering tail that ended like whisps of smoke. They were glowing, they were slightly see through! What was going on?

This wasn’t the boy they’d met last night.

“Father, my brother. Danyal, our father.” Damian paused, then added on, “And the rest of our family.”

“Hi,” the figure chirped, then seemed to shrink into himself as he looked around. “I uh… prefer to be called Danny. The only people who full name me are usually trying to kill me. Or send me to detention.”

That was Damian’s, or rather Danny’s voice alright. Even still had the faint midwestern drawal.

“Why do you look so different?” Dick asked in shock.

“It’s… a long story. Which I’m supposed to tell everyone.” Danny shrunk further into himself, looking miserable. “Please stop being so scared.”

“They are simply adjusting to your unfamiliar form, they will get over it,” Damian said firmly, glaring at everyone in the room.

“It’s not just fear, Dami, they’re horrified.”

“Sit down, eat your cookies. Alfred worked hard on those.” Damian patted the empty space next to him on the chaise lounge. 

Danny turned and spun in place to sit down, looked down at where his tail was curled up under him, made a sour face, then the tail was suddenly replaced by a pair of legs tucked under him. He shoved a cookie into his mouth, now sporting normal teeth from what little Tim could see. “S’good,” Danny slurred, glancing over at Alfred who merely nodded his approval.

“Some time ago,” Damian started, as if that wasn’t the most vague way to start, “I summoned Danyal the first time. I am aware it was foolish, I will not hear about it.”

“I called him dumb already,” Danny added in. “I mean, I had to go find someone to explain how the circles work and what makes them safe or dangerous first, but yeah, I called him dumb. Then I had some friends help me make this,” Danny reached over and tapped the handkerchief, “then I went to three trusted uh… mentors? I guess I’d call them? And made sure with each of them this thing is legit before giving it to Dami.”

Bruce hadn’t moved, still standing in front of the coffee table, slack jawed, staring blankly down at Danny and Damian.

“Is he okay?” Danny stage whispered to Damian.

“Perhaps keeping it a surprise was not the optimal option.”

That seemed to snap Bruce out of it, “I think I need to sit down.”

Dick hopped up to guide Bruce to the nearest open seat, which happened to be the chaise lounge. Danny quickly flew up and moved to float cross legged in the air just on the other side of Damian, as if he were sitting in some invisible chair. He munched another cookie before offering the plate to Damian, who took a cookie for himself.

Once Bruce and Dick had settled back down, Damian decided to continue the story. “More recently I needed to do a covert investigation, but I couldn’t allow any of you know.”

“You what?” Bruce asked, clearly upset.

“I know, he still hasn’t even told me what it was. And I had to cover for him!” Danny sounded so offended.

“I had Danyal take my place in patrol while I was away.”

“When?” Bruce asked, voice dipping down as he leveled a steely glare at Damian.

“You never noticed, I think that speaks for itself. So as a test-”

Cass and Tim bumped fists.

“-Danyal has been joining us on patrols for the last twelve days.”

“Almost made it the full two weeks too,” Danny said airily. “That reminds me, you owe me fifty bucks.”

“What? No!” Damian shot back angrily. “They found out before the two weeks were up, clearly I won that bet and you owe me!”

“They didn’t figure it out, that part of the bet is a draw at best for you. No, the fifty is because you’re the reason they found out. It seems awfully suspicious you got into some kind of accident right before the deadline, how did you break your leg again?”

“I did not break my leg on purpose just to win a meaningless bet!”

“Okay, both of you need to calm down,” Bruce said, looking unsure if he needed to step between the two squabbling boys. “You… had a bet?”

“I bet fifty bucks I wouldn’t give myself away before the two weeks were up, Damian bet fifty bucks you’d figure me out before two weeks. And they didn’t figure it out.” Danny turned to glare at Damian as he said that last part.

“Fine,” Damian conceded with a pout. “I shall venmo you your winnings.”

The ghost floating in front of them has a venmo. The ghost floating in front of them has a use for US currency. What is going on? Is Tim hallucinating?

Damian’s pout deepened, “I am still disappointed in you all for not noticing a whole extra person joining our patrols.”

“In my defense, I don’t patrol with you guys,” Duke joked.

“In our defense, we were suspicious,” Tim added.

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Damian, we had no way of even expecting you to switch places with your long lost dead twin.” Bruce paused, then looked over at Danny. “How did you pull that off? No offense Danny, but you are very easy to tell apart right now.”

“Oh, that’s because I can do this.” A bright flash of light washed over Danny, changing him back to the boy Tim had met the night before, only wearing baggy casual clothes instead of brightly colored armor.

Duke yelped and covered his eyes, “A little more warning next time? Damn, that was bright!”

“Oops, sorry.”

“Oh thank god, I was so worried,” Steph murmured from next to Tim.

“Well that was flashy,” Dick said.

Bruce seemed broken again, staring at the now living, black haired, blue eyed boy sitting cross legged in the air next to Damian.

“Okay, so what the fuck was all that?” Jason asked, motioning to Danny. “Are you dead or aren’t you? Because you don’t look dead right now.”

“Neither do you,” Danny snarked back.

“I’m not dead though.”

“You sure?”

“Not anymore,” Jason said stubbornly.

“No one ever comes all the way back, not anyone who was dead dead.”

“Please stop,” Bruce begged. Dick whimpered in agreement.

Danny ducked into his shoulders again, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Since it would be inconvenient for Robin to be missing at the same time I have a broken leg,” Damian said as a clear subject change, “and we have a perfect stand in who’s already proven himself in the field, Danyal has kindly offered to cover for me for the next few nights.”

“I managed to soup Plasmius last night, so that gives me two, three days max of not having to worry about his schemes. My friends can cover for me during the night so long as I’m still back home during the day. Unless a rabid ancient show up, anyway.”

“What does any of that even mean?” Tim begged.

“We could use some context,” Dick added.

“Right, I guess this is when the life story portion starts,” Danny said with a sigh.

“Perhaps you would prefer to talk over dinner?” Alfred asked from the room’s doorway.

“Dinner sounds great!” Danny cheered as he hopped to his feet, now firmly on the floor. “I’m not sure talking about dying and coming back is the best dinner conversation though,” Danny said absently as he and Bruce helped Damian to his feet.

“Alfred usually has a strict no work talk at the dinner table rule,” Tim teased.

“I think he can make an exception for someone’s life story,” Duke laughed. There were several murmurs of agreement.

“Alright, well I guess we can start with the first time I died,” Danny said as the group slowly filed out of the sitting room and towards the dining room.