Chapter Text
“We left you alone for two weeks.”
Batman let out a long-suffering sigh, but ultimately didn’t seem surprised by Red Robin’s exasperation. Danny peeked over his shoulder, curious about the other vigilante’s reaction, and Batman didn’t shake him off.
“Two weeks, B,” Red Robin emphasized, leaning on the desk in front of him. “Did you seriously get baby fever that fast? Do we need to assign Robin to you permanently so you don’t get lonely? And to help you remember what a terror kids are?”
“It’s a necessary measure,” Batman insisted. “His situation is too delicate to leave to the foster care system, and he needs somewhere to stay while his parents are on trial.”
Red Robin’s nose scrunched while Danny winced, sinking down behind Batman until he could barely see the screen of the laptop he was using to call the Batcave. “And his parents are on trial, why?”
Danny’s hip and back throbbed at the question, where his mom had tagged him with a particularly nasty ectophobic weapon that was doing its best to eat through his flesh faster than he could heal. It was failing, but not by much. It still didn’t hurt as much as the baffled look of affront on his mother’s face this morning, or his father’s honest confusion.
God, they really didn’t even know what they’d done wrong.
Batman had looked over it as soon as his parents left that morning, assessing the damage. Danny had been forced to admit that they hadn’t figured out how to neutralize the effects yet. Batman had let it go, but he didn’t seem pleased, which made Danny shrink with embarrassment.
“The Drs Fenton are being charged with persecution of non-human sapient beings, kidnapping with intent to torture, aggravated assault, attempted murder, gross criminal negligence, and felony public endangerment.” Batman didn’t even change expression.
“What the fuck,” Red Robin said.
“Most of those are gonna be hard to get,” Danny pointed out, hiding his grimace behind Batman’s shoulder. “Since ghosts aren’t legally sentient and all. You can’t assault an ectoplasmic manifestation. And there’s gonna be all kinds of debate on what constitutes a deadly weapon.”
“The Justice League has worked with less.”
“How do you always have a legitimate reason?” Red Robin complained, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ll let Agent A and Nightwing know. But I’m not telling Robin.”
Batman sighed. “I’m sending the security footage from the Fentonworks lab. Get Oracle to help you sort through it.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how traumatizing should I expect this footage to be?” Red Robin asked.
“It’s not that bad!” Danny said, defensiveness creeping into his voice despite his best efforts. “They almost never caught any sentient ghosts, and I released the ones that they did.” He grimaced. “But… I think they did get some ghost animals and some blob ghosts.” Red Robin gestured, and Danny bit his cheek. “I guess… six, maybe seven if you’re really sensitive to animal cruelty. Vivisection was kinda their thing.”
His voice went small toward the end, embarrassment and shame swirling around his head. Would Red Robin be more like Batman, and be horrified at the depths Danny’s parents sank to, disgusted that Danny had never spoken up? Or would he be more like normal, exasperated by the fuss and annoyed that he was being pulled in to deal with crimes that were only against ghosts? Would the video bore him? Would he pull Danny aside and remind him that it was dissection when the victim was dead?
“Great. You give the best presents, B.” Red Robin looked resigned as he accidentally pulled Danny out of his spiraling thoughts. “When are you coming back?”
“We’ll be back by dinner tomorrow.”
“I’ll tell the others. Hey, new kid, what’s your favorite food?”
Danny blinked, surprised to be asked such a- normal question. “Um, barbecue ribs, I guess? But I’m pretty happy with anything that isn’t reanimated?”
Red Robin stared at him for a moment, then laughed. “You’re gonna be a riot, I can already tell. Don’t let B push you around, okay? It’s good for him to hear ‘no’ once in a while. I’m Tim, by the way.”
Red Robin - Tim - hung up without waiting for a response, and Danny stared at the laptop before shifting to look at Batman. “Wait. Am I going to learn your secret identity?”
Secret identities were important. They were crucial, and dangerous, and there was no way that Batman-
“You’ll have to,” Batman deadpanned. Danny gave him a wide-eyed look. “You have much more to lose from disclosing our identities than you stand to gain. And as a Justice League candidate, you do have a certain amount of clearance.”
“I’m still a candidate?” Danny asked, hushed, as if speaking too loudly would make Batman realize his mistake. “Even though my parents…?” Are unethical at best and evil at worst, and I didn’t do anything about it?
“Your parents are the main reason that you won’t be given full member status just yet,” Batman clarified. Danny’s heart sank, and Batman continued, “Your handling of the situation shows your immaturity. You’ll be eligible for reevaluation in two years.”
Danny perked up, both relieved and excited by the prospect. “I’ll do my best,” he promised. Maybe Jazz would be able to help him; she was always getting on him about being more mature anyway. “Um, am I gonna help you do Batman stuff?”
He nearly cringed at his own words. Batman stuff. But Batman himself didn’t miss a beat, though he did get the sense that the man side-eyed him for his phrasing.
“It’s not a requirement,” Batman said. “However, if you do join us on patrol, you’ll need to undergo some training first. You’re clearly unused to fighting humans or working on investigations, and those are our primary concerns in Gotham.” Danny nodded slowly, eyes wide, admittedly fascinated by the idea. “However, it would also be acceptable to spend the next two years focusing on your personal development. You’re still a minor, and education is as important for a hero as anyone else.”
Two years. The figure hit Danny like a truck, or maybe an entire jet plane. He wasn’t going to be living in Amity Park anymore. He wouldn’t be living with his parents, or working as a hero in his small town, fighting the ghosts he’d gotten to know pretty well. He would be (maybe) living with Batman, working toward being a full-time hero. Was that it? Was that his future now?
“I’ll think about it, if that’s okay,” Danny said quietly.
Batman nodded. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning. Pack up anything you want to take with you, including anything from your parents’ lab.”
That was a good point. Unlike the stuff from his room, he might not be able to get anything from the lab later. He stood up, wincing at the pull on his burns, and beelined there, thankful when Batman didn’t question it. He swept his gaze across the lab.
It was kind of surreal that everything looked untouched, exactly as his parents had left it. Danny took a deep breath and tallied up what he’d need, then went for the weapons vault.
From there, he grabbed half a dozen wrist rays, both spools of ectoline, the small stock of ecto-dejecto, a Fenton Peeler, and a spare thermos. Then he grabbed a mini-cooler and went for the filing cabinet where they kept their blueprints and formulas and started riffling through. Wrist ray, thermos, Specter Deflector, ecto-dejecto, Fenton Fisher ectoline, phaseproof coating, anti-ecto all-purpose cleaner. Finally, he iced the cooler and packed in as much purified ectoplasm as would fit, vial after vial.
He brought all of that upstairs and saw Batman move over to it before he went up to his room and started packing his actual stuff, grabbing his suitcase out from his closet. Something buzzed in the back of his head, a low, mournful protest at what he was doing and what it signified.
The front door opened and closed.
“Danny!”
Danny straightened up at his sister’s call.
“Oh God, you’re Batman,” came Jazz’s voice, sounding dismayed.
Danny abandoned his packing attempts and hurried back downstairs to where Jazz was staring at Batman, her hair frizzy and messed up from the obviously rushed drive back to Illinois. Batman, by contrast, seemed unfazed, one of the blueprints Danny had brought up still open in his lap.
“Jasmine,” Batman greeted calmly.
Jazz took a deep breath. “What did my parents do?”
Pause. Batman studied Jazz for a moment, then looked at Danny, who winced at his sister’s obvious lack of surprise. Well, it wasn’t like Jazz’s awareness outclassing his was anything new. He shifted, trying to ease the pull on his burning hip.
“Jazz knows about me,” he told Batman, wanting to avoid the runaround.
Jazz stared at him. “Batman knows?”
Okay, that was warranted too. Danny grimaced. “Things just… happened really fast,” he muttered, scuffing his feet on the floor. “We met in my ghost form and then we were talking about Mom and Dad, and then suddenly they were getting arrested and… and I don’t know what would happen in the system, Jazz, there could be doctors or lawyers or ecto-scanners or Vlad…” He trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Telling Batman seemed… safer.”
Batman looked at him like he was human. Like he was a kid. Danny didn’t get a lot of that in ghost form.
Jazz covered her face. “I hate that that makes sense. What happened?”
Batman considered them both for a long moment. “I came to assess Phantom’s suitability for a place in the Justice League. Intervention was necessary.”
Danny felt worse every time Batman explained. His life was such a dumpster fire that Batman felt obligated to rescue him from it, and now seemed to be stuck with him. Because his situation was delicate, because he was too messed up to send anywhere else.
“I… I understand.” Jazz sighed and fell onto the couch. Despite her resignation, she looked as upset as Danny felt. “…They really were loving parents, you know. Not good, or responsible, but loving.”
“I believe you,” Batman said quietly. “That’s a difficult combination.”
Jazz nodded.
Danny sat down next to her, close enough for her to wrap an arm around him and pull him closer. It wasn’t something he normally put up with, but it was comforting now. “They’ll go to Arkham Asylum or Blackgate. Maybe Belle Reve,” he said, watching her mouth tighten in response. “Hey, if you transfer to Gotham U, you can finally get to work on figuring out what the hell is wrong with our family.”
Jazz swatted the back of his head, and he managed a grin at her exasperation.
“Is that where you’re going? Gotham?” she asked, glancing up at Batman in question. Batman nodded.
“Due to his… unique circumstances, Danny will become a ward of the Justice League,” he explained, rolling up the blueprint in his lap. “He’ll live with an associate, Bruce Wayne, until he’s of age. He’ll help you transfer to Gotham U if you desire.”
Wasn’t Danny supposed to be living with Batman’s civilian identity? Wait-
Jazz’s eyebrows rose. “So the rumors about him funding the Justice League are true?” Batman nodded. “And you trust him with Danny? Even though his needs are… complicated?” Inhuman, unnatural.
“He’ll look after your brother,” Batman stated. “And he’ll have access to the Justice League medical team.”
Jazz looked satisfied with that and turned her attention to the pile of blueprints and lab equipment. “What are you bringing? Did you get the Boo-merang?”
“Jazz, I’m not bringing the Boo-merang. I hate that thing.”
“That thing has saved your life a couple of times. I’m getting the Boo-merang.”
Danny rolled his eyes but didn’t move to stop Jazz from heading downstairs. Instead, he looked at Batman, who picked up one of the blueprints and showed it to Danny. Danny looked at it. “Ectoline. My blood is corrosive, so I need it if I want my stitches to last more than a day.” Formula. “Ecto-dejecto. It’s a good emergency booster. Uh, for me, not for humans.” Next. “Anti-ecto cleaner. For when I inevitably bleed biohazard everywhere. Um, it’s bad for me to touch though.”
Batman nodded and, apparently satisfied, set the sheets back down. “Will you need help getting these?”
“I can make them,” Danny reassured him hastily. “I know my way around a lab, and I have a lot of practice modifying my parents’ stuff.” He grimaced, half-expecting another jab about his overlooking his parents’ crimes, but Batman didn’t comment. “We have enough of these things in stock that I won’t have to make anything for a while, but I wanted to make sure that I could.”
“And the cooler? Is it necessary?”
Danny winced. He should have guessed that two quarts of radioactive sludge was a bit much to ask. “Not… strictly?” Batman stared at him impassively. “I drink it as like, a supplement. I go through about a vial a week normally, but if I’m not going to be using my powers much, I’ll probably just hold onto it in case I get hurt.”
Batman nodded sharply. “I’ll store it safely.”
“I have the Boo-merang!”
Danny ducked too late. “Ow, Jazz!”
Jazz grinned at him while he rubbed his head, then looked at Batman. “It’s a tracker that’s keyed in to Danny specifically,” she explained. “Throw it and follow.” She hefted the pile of things tucked under her arm. “I also grabbed a couple of Specter Deflectors, the Fenton Finder, the Fenton Peeler, and all of the Fenton Phones I could find.”
“Oh, shit!” Danny stood up. Jazz held out a rolled-up blueprint.
“I also grabbed the blueprints for the Fenton Phones,” she said with a smile. Danny grabbed them with a grateful, if sheepish grin and sat back down. “I know, I’m the best.” Danny rolled his eyes. Still, the easy banter lightened his mood, which he knew was what Jazz had been going for.
Jazz added most of the tech to the pile Danny had made, keeping the Fenton Finder, Fenton Peeler, and a Specter Deflector for herself. To Batman, she explained, “I figured Danny will want the essentials with him even if he won’t actually be fighting ghosts in Gotham. I just need enough to take care of myself.”
Batman nodded. “I’m sure Red Robin would be interested in the opportunity to study these.”
Danny brightened. “He should! The Fenton Phones are great because they can filter out sound-based mind control and other interference. You could incorporate it into whatever setup you have now. Um, if it doesn’t do that already.” He ducked his head, embarrassed. Why would he have any tech that Batman didn’t?
“Hn.” Batman picked up the Boo-merang. “Why did your parents have a tracker keyed to Danny?”
Both kids exchanged a look and burst out laughing.
“It’s supposed to track the nearest ghost,” Jazz explained, hiding her snickers behind her hand. “But they always calibrated it near Danny, because they knew it kept tracking him, and they wanted to check if they’d fixed the problem yet. But they never did. Obviously, since it’s doing exactly what it’s supposed to. So it just tracks Danny.”
“And they didn’t question this?” Batman asked.
Jazz’s smile turned a little strained. “Nope!”
“They didn’t question it with the Fenton Finder either,” Danny muttered. “Or the Ghost Gabber. Or the Specter Deflector, or the Fenton Auto-Trigger Ghost Trap, or the Anti-Ghost Doorknobs, or the automatic home security system…” Ancients, those burns hurt, sizzling and sensitive as the compound tried to eat through his skin. He shifted in place.
“Really.”
Danny shrugged. “They just think I’m really ectocontaminated.”
“Do their inventions often trigger around ectocontaminated humans?”
“No.”
Danny was saved from that line of questioning by the return of Constantine, who burst through the front door unannounced, looking haggard and overworked as he normally did. Jazz jumped, blinking at him owlishly, and Danny chose to step in.
“This is the guy,” he told Jazz unhelpfully. Jazz raised an eyebrow at him, and he elaborated, “Sad trenchcoat man. The one from Justice League Dark. Remember, he promised to handle my PR problem?”
It was the latest in a long line of increasingly frustrated promises from Constantine, but the first where he’d actually been able to follow through. More or less. Danny didn’t hold it against him; Amity Park was a garbage fire and JLD had a lot of responsibilities.
“Oh. Yes. I approve,” Jazz nodded. She looked at Constantine. “Is this what you meant?”
“Nope,” Constantine sighed. “But since when does anything work out the way I meant?” He nodded at Batman. “Zatanna agreed that closing the portal is the best thing, doesn’t think there should be any backlash because of the way it was constructed. Kid, do you have a problem with that?”
Right. Because they couldn’t leave it unattended, but Danny couldn’t stay. “Well…”
“Ah, hell,” Constantine muttered. Danny shrugged helplessly.
“It’s not the end of the world, I just have a lot of friends and allies on that side of the portal,” Danny said, disappointed by the thought. He’d miss being able to look for Clockwork to seek advice or reassurance or just a quiet place to spend a few hours. “And Frostbite’s the only doctor familiar with my physiology. He lives in the Ghost Zone.”
That could be a problem. Danny’s body did new, weird things all the time, and Frostbite always seemed to have an explanation for them. He wasn’t eating ectoplasm like he should, or he needed to use his ice powers more, or he’d made himself sick by repressing his emotions too much. What was Danny going to do if his powers started fritzing and he couldn’t ask Frostbite about it? Or if his core started to act up, or he started getting exhausted again, or his ghost half got hurt-
A book dropped onto his lap. Danny looked down, blinking in surprise. The Stitching of the Veil: Crossing Over Under Your Own Power. There was a neon sticky note pressed to the front.
Everything is as it should be.
Danny relaxed. “Oh… I guess it’s all right.”
“Where did that come from.” Batman’s stare bored holes into the book in Danny’s lap. Constantine looked almost as perturbed. Danny smiled sheepishly, hugging the book against his chest.
“Clockwork’s reminding me that I’ll eventually be able to open temporary portals on my own,” he said. If he figured that out, he had no reason not to leave Amity Park, technically. (Except that he kind of didn’t really want to.) “I’ll still need to get some stuff before we close it though. And I should warn everyone that it’s going to be closed from now on.”
“They’ll be disappointed,” Jazz said, with some sympathy.
“They’ll get over it,” Danny shrugged. “They’ve gone decades without access to a portal, losing it won’t be the end of the world.”
“Clockwork, the Master of Time?” Constantine demanded. “Why do you know him? Why is he giving you books?”
Danny smiled awkwardly and shrugged. “Um, it’s a long story. But he likes me.”
Constantine muttered acerbically under his breath. It was pretty funny.
“You should get going,” Jazz said, nudging Danny. “You want to retrieve your medical information from Frostbite, right?” Danny nodded. “See if you can get some equipment too. I remember he used some stuff I’d never seen before when we met last time.”
Danny glanced at Batman. “Should I?”
Batman nodded. “I’ll make sure it gets to the right people. Include instructions.”
Danny gave him a relieved smile. “Thanks. Medical care is hard to get when you’re a freak of nature.”
Constantine snorted like it was a joke and not a perfectly sincere complaint. Jazz just sighed.
“You and the Kryptonians can bond over it,” Batman deadpanned.