Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jazz carefully guided the shirt over Danny’s torso, keeping it off his chest, and he lowered his arms.

“Hey, at least I finally got the surgery I wanted.”

“Danny!”

“Right, bad time.” His eyes jumped around the room, unsure of what to focus on.

“Danny, you can’t stay.” Jazz’s tone was soft, careful.

“I know.” It came out as a whisper.

There was a pause between the siblings.

“Oh, Danny.” She set a hand on his arm, careful to not brush his wrist, knowing she couldn’t pull him in for a hug.

“Where do I go?” His eyes moved slower, taking in his room for the last time. Jazz bit her lip and his eyes snapped back to her.

“What?” He asked.

She hummed slightly.

“They never told you, because they wanted you as theirs, no questions asked. Danny… Jack had an accident after they had me, he couldn’t have another kid.” She bit her lip again.

“Jazz. What are you saying.” It came out flat.

“Maddie was a surrogate. If they had twins, she could keep one. They got to keep you. You’ve got another family out there. They were in Gotham, their last name is Drake. That’s all I know.” She rushed the words, each one breaking everything Danny thought he knew.

It made sense, really. He might have the blue eyes and black hair of Jack Fenton, but he never had the build of the man. Jazz shared in his height, at least, towering over Danny even now. Danny was slim and short, even with his lean muscles.

“Oh.” Was all he managed to get out, his thoughts racing about the possibility of another family. A twin.

“Danny, you’ve- you’ve got to go. You can go to Gotham. Look for the Drakes. I can come to Gotham, too.” Jazz was standing, picking up his already packed backpack.

“No, Jazz.” Danny shook his head. “You’ve got a year left on your Associates, it’s all planned out. You need to finish it. It’ll be better that way for you, less of a mess.”

“That doesn’t matter Danny, I don’t care-“

“Yes you do. I know you care about me more, but you still care about it. I don’t want you to throw that away for me. Finish your plans. Then you can move where you were going to continue your schooling if you want. But don’t change your current plans, please.” He pleaded.

Jazz heaved a sigh, nodding.

“Okay. Okay. We can make it work. You’ll go to Gotham. I’ll go back to school for now.” There was a pause again between the two, neither of them wanting the moment to end. Jazz still broke the silence.

“Danny, you have to go.”

He nodded, knowing he needed to go before the Fentons got back.

“Jazz, I-“ he stopped, looking at his sister.

She smiled at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes in the right way. She pushed his backpack into his hand saying,

“I know, Danny. I’ll see you again eventually. Go find your family.” And nudged him slightly towards the window. He nodded, taking the backpack.

“You are my family.” He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, and pretended to not notice the tears gathering in her eyes. White light flashed through the room and Phantom shot out of the window, headed for New Jersey.

———————————

Danny’s sweatshirt caught on the rough stone as he slid down the grimy wall in the alley, hitting the ground. His chest pulled and burned with each quick gulp of air. He didn’t have time to collapse like this, he needed to search for the Drakes before night fell, but he was too exhausted to move aside from the heaving of his chest, which only served to aggravate his wounds.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there in the back of the alley, hyperventilating. It took longer than he would’ve liked to get his breathing under control.

Danny lifted his head and took stock of himself. His knees were pulled up to his chest, but held just a bit further away than he normally would have them so as not to touch. His hands were now on his knees, trembling. When was the last time he had seen them steady? When he had taken his backpack from Jazz? No, they had been trembling then, too.

He pushed his legs slowly outward, wincing when his knees cracked as they straightened. He could feel the layers of grime under his legs but couldn’t bring himself to care. He had already been in grime for a while on his way to Gotham and knew this would be his life for a while now, if he couldn’t find the Drakes. If he could find them and they didn’t want him.

Danny’s eyes wandered from himself to the alley, drifting from the grime under his legs outward. He was pressed into the back of the alley, keeping away from the street itself. Between himself and the entrance of the alley were two dumpsters which were wafting off a stench he wished he couldn’t smell.

He needed to get up.

If that smell soaked into him, he would have a harder time going into places. Danny pushed his hands against the slime on the pavement, propping himself up enough to bring his knees back in. He gathered himself off the ground, stood, and wiped the grime from his hands onto his jeans. Leaned down to grab his backpack off the ground where he must have discarded it when he had first stopped in the alley. Slung the backpack over his shoulders and hauled himself towards the entrance of the alley.

Passing the dumpsters was worse than being near them. Holding his breath did little to ward off the stench as he tried his best to not gag and wretch as he edged as far from them as possible in the narrow space left in the alley.

At the edge of the alley, he could see into the street. The city’s smog hung low, creating a dampness to the atmosphere Danny could sense. Or maybe that was the high concentration of unclean ectoplasm, somewhat like Amity Park’s. While the ectoplasm here was high, it wasn’t fresh. More like city tap water than a fresh well like Amity Park’s access with the portal had. Danny took a deep breath and tried to steel his nerves. He needed to find the Drakes.

His family.

Where did he start with something like that? Jazz and him had decided it was best if he left behind his phone and got a new one when he was able, just in case his parents found a way to track it. He knew Jazz’s number by heart and would text her later. He had other Fenton tech in his backpack for himself. If he really wanted to get back in contact with anyone else he could ask Jazz, but he had gotten distant with Sam and Tucker in the last year anyway. Too much had been changing, or staying the same, depending on the person.

He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts. He didn’t have time to think about that, he needed to get moving. Night was falling soon, and he needed to find at least some information if he wanted to get a head start before night hit. Where would he find information? The police station?

Ha. In his condition? He didn’t need that. The library, then. He could use their computers for the internet, at least. He couldn’t expect a lot from searching for a random family, but it was a start.

Danny started walking, looking for something to guide his way to find the library in Gotham.

——

Barbara normally got a heads up before the boys visited her unless Dick really wanted to surprise her, or Jason was just there for books, so she wasn’t anticipating Tim to walk into the library. More surprising, was how disheveled Tim was. Usually in public he at least made half an effort to look decent. Being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises so young, he always felt he had to prove a point.

Today, not so much. His hair looked like he lost a fight with a bird, sticking in every direction it could, and she was pretty sure there was dirt in it. It looked like he had tried to pat it down, but it hadn’t helped. His Wayne Aerospace hoodie had a coffee stain down the front, no surprises there, but also looked like he had rolled in an alley outside along with his jeans. She remembered him mentioning that department working on some new projects, so he must have been trying to support them more. He had a backpack with him that didn’t look much better, and she would say it was his school backpack if she didn’t know he was already a drop-out.

“Tim!” She called out, watching his glazed eyes accompanied by his usual eye bags pass her by without sparing a glance and head towards the computer area.

“Tim?” No reaction. She sighed, shaking her head. What would Tim want with the computers here? There was nothing he could do on them that he couldn’t get done at home, or even at the office really. And the way he hadn’t even noticed her calling out to him, and the state he was in… when was the last time Tim slept? He was probably buried deep in some case he refused to set down.

Barbara pulled out her phone and texted one of the group chats.

          - decaf brew -

BigBrother: Someone cut Tim’s coffee off and make him get some sleep, just witnessed a code yellow

BloodHeir: Drake is incapable of self-care.

Whelmed: I’ll check on him later

BigBrother: Thanks

Barbara set down her phone with another sigh, looking towards the computers. She could see Tim squinting at a screen like he did when he was disappointed with his findings, but focused and still searching. If she gave it a little longer, yup, there it was, his tongue was just barely sticking out now. She shook her head with a slight smile, attending to her own screen.

The real question was what in the world Tim would possibly be using the library’s computer’s for, especially with his focus he usually reserved for his more puzzling cases.

Things weren’t adding up.

She would have to check what he searched after he left. Since he seemed rather out of it, she figured he was likely to forget to clear his search history. Not that it was difficult to recover that unless he truly scrubbed it clean anyway, and Tim was in no condition currently to fully wipe his history. She would find out what he was up to when he was done with the computer. For now, she could get back to work while somewhat keeping an eye on him. Something was off. And maybe partially in case he fell over, he didn’t look too good, and he had done it before.

——

Danny tapped through the internet searches, sinking further and further into his seat. The Drakes were dead. His parents were dead. He really hadn’t been expecting much for results by searching for a Drake family, and was—at first—pleasantly surprised to immediately get results of a couple who looked like him. Turns out, the Drakes had been pretty big in Gotham. Unfortunately though, they were already deceased for a number of years. His twin wasn’t mentioned as dead, so likely he went into the foster system and was long-since disappeared. Scrolling through the information about the Drakes, there were a few articles about a Tim Drake-Wayne, but Danny knew of him. Son of Bruce Wayne and CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and so he disregarded those articles and links quickly. After all, he was currently wearing a Wayne Aerospace hoodie, so he knew who that was quite well. Wayne Enterprises was huge in Gotham, so there was no need to click on any Wayne-related links in the search for his family, especially when he had already found what had happened to the Drakes several years ago.

Now what was he going to do?

Danny slumped in his seat—if it was possible to slump further—and did his best to suppress his groan. It was late enough he should get out of the library before they had to kick him out, so he shuffled to his feet and closed his searches down. His backpack was dragged from the floor to his shoulder and he gave a half-wave to the red-head sitting at the front desk who seemed to want his attention. He didn’t give it to her.

Straight out the doors and down the street, Danny thought about his own red-head. He couldn’t tell Jazz yet. If he told her that he already knew his family was a dead end, she would drive to Gotham to pick him up. He couldn’t bum in her dorm room at college, and he didn’t want her to uproot her college plans for him, either. He could figure something out, he just needed a little time. For now, he needed some food and a place to sleep.

——

When Tim stood up from the computer and grabbed his backpack off the floor, Barbara straightened up and paid full attention to him again. As he passed by she waved at him.

“Hey, Tim!” She tried again.

He didn’t look at her, but he did wave while going past, so that was at least something. He was pretty out of it, she might have to tell Dick to double down on his check-in for Tim later tonight. Tim himself blew right out the door of the library, so Barbara shrugged off his ignoring of her.

She wheeled herself around her desk and over to the computers, pulling up Tim’s search history to see what he had been up to while here. He hadn’t even bothered to clear his search history, only closing out of everything, which was strange. It was easy to start at the beginning and see what he started searching, and what he opened from there.

‘Drake’
‘Drakes’
‘Drake Family’
‘Drake Family History’

That… was odd. What would Tim need to search his own family for? That didn’t seem right. Something was wrong with this picture, and it was more than what she was thinking was off about Tim before.

Barbara wheeled back to her desk to pull up footage of Tim to examine it again and save some of it to her own files to look at later.

——

Danny had been walking for a while when he found himself wandering into a park with a sign that read Robinson, which he found a bit ironic with the Robins running around.

After his journey to Gotham, his breakdown in the alley upon his arrival, his discovery that his parents he was searching for were dead, and wandering around a bit more, he was exhausted. He had been exhausted when he left home prior to all of that. Now that he was slowing down again and not actively searching for something, his chest was itching and burning again as well. It ached.

He dragged himself further into the park, looking for the most secluded area he could get. He could look for a better place to stay another day. The sun has already dipped beneath the buildings and staying out in Gotham at night on his first night in the city was probably another death sentence. And besides, he couldn’t keep dragging his legs along anyway. As he wandered further into the park, he spotted some other bushes and decided those would be good enough. He crawled down into them, trying not to get himself scratched, as he found a good opening under the bushes and settled down.

Danny drifted off curled around his backpack, hidden under the bushes of Robinson Park in Gotham.

Chapter Text

The sun attempting to blind Danny had him nearly hissing at Jazz to close his blinds. She would be the only one to open them. When he cracked an eye open to glare, he was met with wiggling leaves mere inches from his face, and his mind caught up to him.

The Fentons. The basement. Jazz. Gotham. The Drakes. He was under the bushes in Robinson Park in Gotham, having learned his real parents—who he had just learned of anyway—were already dead. Now he had to find out what he was going to do with himself. He wasn’t healed enough to travel far, in fact he probably couldn’t leave Gotham after his rush to get here.

He was afraid if he uncurled from his position, his chest would tear open and begin bleeding all anew. It felt stiff, and ached far worse than it had yesterday. He had thought he was already exhausted yesterday, but he must have still had some adrenaline in his system. Now he was exhausted.

Danny shifted his arms under him and slowly pushed off the ground, inching his way up. He stayed low and inched his way out from under the bushes, dragging his backpack along with him until he was clear. Once he was clear of the bushes he sat up fully, although his chest was somewhat slumped, and checked his surroundings. Nobody else was in his area of the park still. He brought his legs under him to get to his feet, and leveraged himself up carefully, trying not to pull at his chest. He remained hunched until he was upright, then slowly stood the rest of the way, hissing at the pull and burning across his abdomen and chest. His lips pushed into a flat line as he breathed out through his nose, holding still once he was upright.

He was okay. He could do this.

Danny eased his backpack onto his shoulders and picked the route that looked like it would take him out of the park. He didn’t remember the route he had taken the night before to get to the clump of bushes he slept in.

His ankles were angry, rubbing against his socks and jeans as he walked. He knew the skin was rubbed raw, just like his wrists. He hadn’t stayed in Amity long enough to benefit from the ambient ectoplasm there for his healing. The trip to Gotham didn’t have much for ectoplasm, and he burned a lot of it rushing here. Gotham itself had a lot of ectoplasm, but it wasn’t the same. He wasn’t absorbing it as fast, and it wasn’t speeding his healing the same as it did back in Amity. He also knew he was far more hurt than he usually was. The Fentons had—no, he didn’t need to think about that. Just keep moving.

This park was huge. Had he really traveled that far to get in here last night? It seemed so far. Danny dragged his legs along, trying to ignore the mounting burn in his chest, and the irritation he could feel on his ankles and wrists. There, finally, the entrance of the park. Now if he could just find a coffee shop, that would be a better start for the day. There was probably a good one back in that older looking section of the city where the library had been, if he crossed that river again. Wasn’t Wayne Tower also in that direction? It would be cool to at least see the tower while he was still in Gotham.

——

Bruce sighed, eyeing the last text from his eldest before pocketing his phone. Tim was doing poorly again, according to what Barbara saw yesterday. Dick wanted him to be on the lookout for Tim at work in case he still looked bad, so he could be sent home to rest, because knowing Tim he would keep trying to work.

His first stop, Tim’s favorite coffee shop. Either Tim would be there, or Tim was already in the office and would appreciate a coffee from there. He would also be far easier to convince to go home if he was being appeased with his favorite coffee, even if Bruce would rather not feed his horrendous addiction. It was impossible to keep that child away from caffeine regardless.

He rounded the corner that would take him to the entrance of the coffee shop and collided with someone. His hands shot out, catching the short teen instinctively as he heard their drink hit the pavement. They grunted, and Bruce’s focus zeroed in on the tiny teen in his hands.

Tim. Tangled dirty black hair, baggy Wayne Aerospace hoodie, grimy clothes and a purple backpack that must have originally been Stephanie’s. The others were right, he wasn’t doing well. The bags under his eyes were as prominent as ever, and he had a grimace on his face that tilted into pain.

Bruce quickly retracted his hand from Tim’s ribs. Based on his shoulder’s dropping, that had been the culprit. He must have bruised them during patrol. Maybe he could have Alfred badger Tim into some more rest.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Let’s get you another one.” He gently steered Tim back into the coffee shop. Tim himself seemed almost in a daze, although recovering fast as he nodded slightly and let himself be led back inside.

——

Danny had found what he was now going to call the perfect coffee shop. The barista had thought he was one of their regulars for some reason, and he didn’t have the heart to correct her because she was so nice. So when she had said “One Spirit Manifestation, EMF Level 5 with seven extra shots, coming right up!” He glanced at the price of the drink, added up the price of the extra shots, paid it, and left a sizable tip in the tip jar, hoping it did his doppelgänger justice. That many shots in his coffee sounds amazing. Back in Amity, he couldn’t get any of the coffee shops to go past four shots total.

Standing off to the side and waiting for his drink, Danny could read the description of the drink labeled the Spirit Manifestation. ‘Strong enough to revive your spirit!’ It had listed ‘EMF Levels’ underneath, up to EMF 5, which were the number of espresso shots you could add to that particular drink. It was both unique and ironic, given the circumstance.

“One Spirit Manifestation strong enough to evict your soul!” The barista joked as his drink came out, and Danny couldn’t help the smile on his own face as he took it. She wouldn’t even understand why that was so funny to him specifically. Instead, he just thanked her quickly and left, pushing his way out the door and heading around the corner.

Turning around the corner next to the coffee shop, Danny collided with someone much bigger than him. It reminded him a little of running into his dad Jack Fenton, but with a lot more muscle instead. Danny grunted with the impact, his coffee slipping through his fingers. The man’s hands shot out and caught him, steadying him before he had the chance to topple over. One hand firmly held his shoulder, and another had caught his ribs near his chest, causing his chest to feel like it got doused in fire.

The man quickly retracted his hand from Danny’s ribs, and Danny let his shoulders drop.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. Let’s get you another one.” Left the man’s mouth, and before Danny could fully process what was happening, he was being steered back towards the door of the coffee shop. He nodded slightly as they made it to the door and the man held it open for him.

As they stepped into the coffee shop, Danny for the second time, he processed who was holding the door for him.

Bruce Wayne. He had run into Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne was replacing his spilled coffee. Bruce Wayne had steadied him, realized he was hurt and released his ribs carefully, and called him sweetheart. And he was wearing his Wayne Aerospace hoodie with alleyway mystery grime and coffee spilled down the front from before, not even this time. He looked like street trash, and Bruce Wayne was carefully ushering him inside the coffee shop to buy him a new coffee.

The barista nearly did a double take, seeing him and Bruce Wayne enter and stride up to the counter. Danny wouldn’t blame her, even mistaken for one of her regulars, seeing Danny—especially in his current condition—enter with Bruce Wayne himself had to come as a bit of a shock. Bruce Wayne spoke before she could.

“I accidentally spilled his coffee outside, so I’d better get him another. Same thing you just made him before, if that’s alright.” He flashed a smile at the barista and she was quick to nod and begin making the drink. There was a brief moment where she said that it was on the house since it spilled on accident, but Mr. Wayne insisted on paying for it anyway. He also left a very sizable tip in their jar, which Danny was pretty sure consisted of several hundreds.

They stood off to the side while the drink was being made, but it looked like it was in a longer line of waiting drinks now, and Danny didn’t want to bother the baristas to push it to the front of the line by any means.

Now it was just him and Bruce Wayne standing and waiting. Why was Mr. Wayne still here? To ensure he got his coffee? Danny pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down, making sure they were fully covering not only his wrists but also most of his hands, especially his left hand where his scar faintly etched into the back from his accident with the portal several years back.

“Are you doing okay?” Bruce broke their silence again. Okay? That wasn’t a safe topic. He was probably asking because of how bad Danny looked.

“Just have a lot to do. Busy.” He answered, now wishing the coffee would move through the line faster. This wasn’t a safe topic with Bruce Wayne. The man looked way too concerned right now, like he cared personally about Danny, and Danny knew about the Wayne adoption tendencies and how he fit those looks perfectly. He didn’t need another rich person trying to adopt him. One fruitloop was enough.

——

Bruce wasn’t sure what to do with Tim. He seemed uncomfortable with the attention he was getting from Bruce currently. Was he embarrassed to be caught doing so bad? Normally he didn’t care much. Maybe he was upset with Bruce for the spilled coffee. That was more likely, but he also wasn’t glaring at him. Maybe he was doing even worse than the others thought. When he asked if he was doing okay, Tim answered that he had a lot to do and was busy, so he was probably overworked with cases and work projects both. Bruce looked at Tim’s coffee stained, dirty Wayne Aerospace hoodie. Was he overworked watching over the new projects in that department?

“Aerospace?” He asked, arching an eyebrow slightly, inquiring if that was what was keeping Tim so busy. Rather than a response he expected, Tim actually seemed to perk up.

“Yeah! The new projects that Wayne Aerospace have been working on are great! With the new solar technologies for the space scout, we should have a lot more potential for short-range space examination.” Tim’s tired exterior dropped away a bit, and Bruce was certain there was a sparkle to his eye now. Since when has Tim been that interested in the Aerospace division?

“I’m glad you’re excited about it.” Bruce smiled.

“Excited about it? The Wayne Aerospace scouts can travel millions of miles entirely by sunlight. With the solar sail technology the Aerospace division is working on, we could devise new methods of transport for space that would allow for more effective travel for people as well. With the small size of the crafts mixed with the solar sail’s technology, we’re breaching whole new avenues of technology for transportation and travel in space. We-“ Tim stopped. His hands, which had been moving around as he spoke, dropped and wrapped carefully around his middle. A blush was creeping over his face, and Bruce could only smile softly at his boy. He hadn’t seen Tim that excited about something in a while, he had been too stressed.

“I agree,” Bruce started, saving Tim’s embarrassment, “The new technologies have a lot of potential for future space travel.”

Before he could continue, their last name was called out and Bruce grabbed Tim’s coffee, handing it over to his boy. Tim latched onto the coffee with inhuman speed, like he usually did with coffee, and began slurping some of it down. Now that he had his coffee, it was time to convince him to go home and get some sleep. Tim’s pupil’s had blown wide as he sucked down some of his coffee, and Bruce gently ushered him towards the exit of the coffee shop before he finished the coffee and demanded another one on the spot.

“Are you sure you’re doing alright, sweetheart?” He asked carefully. At the very least, it stopped Tim from downing his entire drink in one go.

——

Danny’s face burned as he realized he had started rambling to Bruce Wayne about his own Aerospace division’s recent work. He probably sounded like a fool. He carefully wrapped his arms around his waist, but couldn’t do it fully with his wounds. He was saved by ‘Wayne’ being called out and the man grabbing his drink, handing it over.

Danny may have grabbed it a little too fast. Nobody could prove it though, so it was fine. He began slurping at it to cover his embarrassed face, and woah.

This was amazing.

How did they make this so good? He could tell Bruce Wayne was guiding him back towards the exit, but he didn’t mind. The taste of the coffee was a bit distracting.

“Are you sure you’re doing alright, sweetheart?” Bruce Wayne said as they stepped outside, and that got Danny to stop sucking down his heavenly coffee. Bad topic. Unsafe topic.

“Um.” Great response Fenton. Or, well, Drake?

“Yeah, just tired.” That’s better. Bruce Wayne didn’t look entirely convinced.

“Are you headed home?” He asked. Oh, is he asking because he thinks Danny might not have a home? Because he wants to adopt him? Better lie.

“Mhm,” he hummed slightly, eyeing his coffee as though it held the answers to the universe, “I’ll head home. Get some rest.”

Bruce Wayne seemed to relax at that. Nailed it. No adoption by a fruitloop today.

“Sounds good, sweetheart. Go get some rest.” Bruce Wayne was smiling at him in a way that made Danny’s heart and core ache. When was the last time Jack or Maddie Fenton had looked at him like that? Like they cared about him? Like they were worried about him? Like they loved him?

He quickly gave a tiny wave to Bruce Wayne and started walking, rounding the closest corner. He gave it a bit, but it looked like he wasn’t going to be followed. Danny walked a few more paces, darted into an alley, and let the tears that were threatening his eyes fall.

He pushed himself up against a wall halfway down the alley, curling around his coffee as his shoulder shook. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been looked at the way the complete stranger, Bruce Wayne, had been looking at him. The last time his own parents had looked at him like that had been years before the portal accident. The last time he saw them?

Danny sobbed. His breath hitched. He stayed in place, picturing the final looks on his parents’ faces. The look on Bruce Wayne’s face. Care. Concern. Love. The way his own parents should have looked at him. Instead, he got a metal table in the basement. Instead, he had to flee.

A hiccup. A deep breath that led to a cough that led to a low groan. His chest burned again. A different burn. Something felt wrong. He pushed his knees away from his chest, hands still wrapped around his coffee, and tried to take even breaths. He wished his healing would kick in like it did in Amity.

Danny used a sleeve to wipe at his tears. He took a few more breaths, as deep as he dared with his chest, and looked towards the sky. He should move. He shifted, getting his feet under him again, and started walking. Now, at least, he had a good coffee in his hands.

Chapter Text

Coffee in hand, Danny made his way back towards the park he had slept in. Bruce Wayne likely headed in the direction of Wayne Tower and he didn’t want to run into the man again, especially when he had told him he was going home. A lie, given that Danny didn’t have a home anymore, but a needed lie none-the-less. The man had been too concerned about him, and that couldn’t lead to anything good on Danny’s end he was sure.

He sipped at his coffee as he made his way across the river again and this time right past the entrance of the park, traveling into a new area of Gotham. Danny needed a place to stay for a while so he could heal, which meant he needed to look for somewhere he wouldn’t immediately get kicked out of. The area where the park was located was too nice. If he got spotted sleeping there, he was sure he would get reported to the police.

That was the last thing he needed.

Danny kept to the edges of the streets, dipping into alleys and dodging through back streets as he navigated through Gotham to find somewhere he could camp out for a while. Every time he entered a particularly deep back alley, he felt as though someone were watching him, and he was quick to leave. He didn’t need to infringe on someone else’s area, if that’s what was happening. Although he had a feeling it had more to do with the spectral inhabitants of the city. After the fifth deeper back alley feeling like the same set of eyes, he decided to keep out of the deeper alleys altogether, because whatever was watching him seemed to be following him. He wasn’t sure what to think of that, but knowing his luck and track record it wouldn’t be good. Best to avoid it.

It was a long while of walking and the disappointed slurping as he hit the end of his coffee before Danny crossed another river and entered a new area of Gotham. This area wasn’t as fancy or nice as the area he had been in, and he figured he might be able to find somewhere to stay in this section of the city. The further he went, the worse it got.

Pretty soon he was dodging around corners not to get spotted by people who might report him to cops, but in order to not get picked up by other sketchy looking people. Older rundown buildings lined the streets and Danny knew he could find somewhere to tuck himself away and heal if he was smart about it.

He pushed farther into the streets, getting to an area of the city that looked even worse. As he entered that section of the city, a feeling crawled up his throat and shivered down his spine. Another ghost’s haunt. He quickly backpedaled into the slightly better but still not great streets. Some type of ghost had laid claim to the worst part of Gotham he had seen, and he didn’t want to step on their toes. The feeling had felt funny, though, like something was off about his usual ghost sense.

Danny didn’t want to cause any upsets with other spirits in Gotham. He couldn’t fight in his condition. And besides, these ghosts weren’t his responsibility. They weren’t let loose by the portal he opened in his basement. His parents the Fenton’s basement.

Danny shuddered. His chest burned again. He needed to find somewhere to rest and heal more. He couldn’t keep running around if his chest kept flaring up like this. He wished Jazz and him had found some ecto-dejecto to pack with him, but there hadn’t been any made up in the lab when he fled and he didn’t want to risk carrying pure ectoplasm with him on the run.

He could feel the lines carved into his chest burning under his hoodie, just like he could feel the raw skin on his wrists and ankles rubbing against his clothes. Something deep in his chest ached, too, though. It was different than just the injured flesh. Deeper than the Fentons had managed to dig into him.

Danny’s foot caught on a crack in the sidewalk and he nearly went down, stumbling to keep his balance. He needed to stop and rest. He moved slower, looking at the buildings and scanning the streets and the people around. He needed to find somewhere he could hide out for a while to heal.

——

It took Danny a few hours of wandering this area of Gotham before he found somewhere he thought he could lay low for a while. Just off the edge of the ghost’s haunt he had stepped into before, there were some abandoned buildings. The one he picked out looked ready to collapse on itself, but after doing a thorough search he thought it would hold while he was there.

The building looked like it had been on fire at one point not terribly long ago, which Danny figured was likely due to the many rogues in Gotham. Part of the roof was caved in on the upper floor, but he wouldn’t need that anyway. The bottom floor had enough coverage, and the doors and windows were all boarded shut. Danny had to climb the fire escape to get to the second floor to get in, and the fire escape felt like it would give out under him as he went.

It was perfect. Nobody else would be trying to get in because it wouldn’t be worth it to them. He would be able to camp out and hopefully take some time to heal. Danny set his backpack on the floor next to a tattered couch, and gently lowered himself onto it. He held back a groan as his chest pulled and burned again. He should probably change his bandages, as much as he didn’t want to look at his chest.

He unzipped his backpack and pulled out the first aid kit. It was the one he used to store under his bed. Jazz had packed it for him, saying he would need to change his bandages often while healing at first probably, especially if the ectoplasm wasn’t high enough in Gotham. He was glad it seemed to be high, but it definitely wasn’t healing him as fast as in Amity Park.

Danny slowly shrugged his hoodie off, and then his shirt. He paused then, staring at the bandages wrapped around his chest. They were stained red and green already, and he didn’t want to see how bad it was underneath. He could see the blatant Y shape where his blood had soaked through. He couldn’t stare forever. Finding the edge of the bandages, he began slowly peeling them away, being as slow and careful as he could.

When he had peeled it all away from his skin, Danny stared down at his bare chest. A jagged, ugly Y sat there. The skin was red and inflamed, the lines raised and uneven. It hadn’t been a clean cut due to a mix of the Fentons not caring that much, and him being awake for it. Jazz had done her best to sew it up evenly, but she had been crying and her hands shook, so the stitches weren’t perfect either.

He couldn’t blame her.

The stitches were all intact and although a fair amount of blood had been in the bandages, everything looked like it was holding currently and no longer bleeding. It had probably all been from his travel to Gotham. Danny turned to the first aid kit, popping it open and finding the antiseptic bottle and some cleaning pads to wipe himself clean.

He made quick work of wiping down his chest as carefully and gently as he could before bandaging and wrapping himself back up. He pulled his shirt and hoodie back on and closed the first aid kit, shoving it back into his backpack.

The bloody bandages were taken upstairs to where the fire damage was and burnt up with a small, careful ecto-blast. Using his ecto-blast caused the spot deep in his chest to burn again. Danny grit his teeth and marched back downstairs to the couch, flopping down.

Danny curled up on the ratty couch, feeling more exhausted than he wanted. It wasn’t that late in the day yet, but he found himself drifting off anyway.

——

Danny woke with a jolt, the sound of gunfire nearby. He was used to blasters and many types of different weapons his parents the Fentons would shoot at him, but real gunfire had a different ring to it. A louder bang. He moved to sit up and groaned as his chest pulled. He was stiff. The lengthy travel to Gotham had fully caught up to his muscles, it would seem.

“It’s probably best if I stay in.” He muttered to himself as he set his feet on the floor, looking around the dingy room. Low light filtered through the boarded over windows, creating eerie lines of light that highlighted all the dust in the air of the room. The sun was still up, but it looked like it was setting fast and would be blocked out by the skyscrapers soon. Not that it could be seen much behind the clouds and smog anyway, but the light from it could be seen regardless.

Danny pulled his backpack between his feet, opening it back up to take a look at everything Jazz had packed him. He had been a little out of it for some of her packing, and wasn’t entirely sure of everything she had stuffed into the thing. He pulled out the first aid kit, setting it on the couch, followed by his usual Fenton thermos. A Fenton blaster, two wrist rays, a boo-staff—collapsed still. He set all the Fenton tech in a pile on the couch and kept looking in the bag. He wasn’t sure why Jazz thought he needed so many ghost weapons when he normally didn’t use them at all, but with how drained he was currently maybe she was on to something. He was sure he couldn’t fight a ghost in his current state if one showed up in Gotham and picked a fight.

Digging into the backpack further revealed a change of clothes, although Danny didn’t have anywhere to wash them or money to do so. He left the clothes in the backpack and kept digging, looking for anything else that might be useful. A notebook and pen, which could come in handy for later maybe. In the smaller front pocket, Danny found a teal headband that was stained with ectoplasm. He pulled the headband out, staring at it in his hand. The neon green clashed with the teal in a horrible way, and stained nearly the whole thing. It had to be the one Jazz was wearing when she had pulled him out of the lab. No other time would it have gotten so coated. The ectoplasm on her hands as she pushed her hair back, readjusted her headband to get it out of the way.

“Danny! Danny keep your eyes open! Danny keep looking at me! Don’t you dare close your eyes! Please!” Jazz’s own eyes were frantic, jumping around as she slammed her hand into various buttons to get the table to release. The cuffs clanked when they snapped open, allowing her to pry him off the table.

“Danny don’t stop looking at me. Don’t you close those eyes.” Jazz was crying. Danny was crying too, he knew, but the pain searing through his chest mattered more. Jazz’s hands were everywhere, trying to push things shut. There was green everywhere.

Danny closed his eyes, his fist tightening around the headband. He sucked in a deep breath, and then winced when it pulled on his stitches. The headband was shoved back into the front pocket and zipped back up, to be looked at again later.

He needed to focus on something else. What had he been doing? A glance to his side revealed the stack of Fenton tech.

Right. Inventory. He didn’t have much in the backpack, but maybe there were still things left over in the house he was in. If he was going to stay here to heal, he was going to need more than what he currently had. Blankets, food, a shower if he could find one.

Danny set his backpack to the side and pushed away from the couch, taking a closer look at the building he was in. A house of sorts, although it has originally been attached to other houses. Not an apartment, but he didn’t know what those houses were called. Duplexes? But with more? He had come in from upstairs through a window with the fire escape which had nearly fallen down, and come downstairs via the somehow still intact staircase. Most of the upstairs was buried from the caved in roof, what looked like fire damage. Downstairs contained a small living room—where he had slept on the couch—with little in it, a small kitchen, and the front door. The door and the windows were all boarded shut, and there didn’t appear to be anything else. The bathroom must have been upstairs where the ceiling had caved in, meaning he wouldn’t get to have a shower here. If Danny could find a blanket and a place to find food, he would be set at least for a little while.

He looked through the kitchen, hoping for some food that wasn’t expired. In the back of one cupboard he found a few soup cans he could probably make use of. He set the cans up on the counter and then moved back to the couch.

A plan. He needed a plan. He grabbed the notebook out of the backpack and started making a list.

Blankets, more food, somewhere to shower if he could find it. How long he would need to stay would depend on how long it would take to heal more, so he would just have to see. Danny spent the rest of the evening working on his recovery plan in Gotham and what he would need.

Chapter Text

Tim groaned as he dragged himself upstairs. He had lost track of time and spent the rest of the night and morning in the cave after having gone down to the batcomputer around five in the morning. Barbara and him were currently in a hacking fight that neither was seeming to win. She had looked into everything he had researched recently—all his cases and personal searches—and refused to explain why. So, in retaliation, he looked into why she might have done that. Only he couldn’t find a reason for it. When he had looked into her stuff, she looked at his recent history even deeper, and so he—of course—returned the favor. The last round he had spent on the batcomputer instead of his personal tech, trying to get the upper hand as they counter-hacked each other. Really they had no reason to hide things from each other. He wasn’t sure why she had checked his recent research without asking in the first place, or why she wouldn’t talk to him about it. It was puzzling, but he didn’t have the energy to keep fighting her on it. He had other work to do. The new projects from the Wayne Aerospace department that he was overseeing were taking up more of his time at WE than he expected, and he needed to get back to them.

Passing through the kitchen once he was upstairs, Tim planned on making himself some coffee before he headed out for the day. Running his hands through his hair, he glanced around for Alfred.  The man somehow hadn’t dragged him out of the batcave, meaning he likely had his hands full with something else. He didn’t see him now, either, but that didn’t mean the older man wasn’t just around the corner somewhere. Tim opened the cupboard to pull his coffee out.

“TIMMERS!”

Tim cringed, letting the cupboard fall shut at the voice of his oldest brother.

“Dick. I didn’t know you were in town,” he answered, turning around slowly.

“I swung by. I’m glad I caught you actually! Good timing! You’re not making more coffee are you?” Dick looked at the coffee machine directly behind Tim, which Tim had been trying to block with his body. Dick was too upbeat. Too pointed. Something was up.

“More? I haven’t-“ Dick didn’t let him continue.

“Good! Come, I’ve heard a rumor that you haven’t been getting enough sleep.” Dick slung an arm around his shoulder and began practically dragging him towards the stairs. Tim stumbled when they started, but quickly righted himself to keep up.

“Is this because of the thing with Babs? I swear I-“ Tim started, but Dick cut him off again with a grin.

“So you admit to it! Off to bed with you, Timmers.”

“But-“

“Nope! You can’t keep neglecting your sleep! You don’t want me to go get Alfred, do you?” Dick’s grin turned sharp when Tim grumbled at him and didn’t resist as his brother corralled him back to his room.

How did Dick already know about his early morning hacking fight with Barbara? He just got done with it a few minutes ago, and since he and Barbara didn’t actually talk about it, he didn’t expect her to already talk to anybody in the family about it. Much less send them after him. And Dick just happened to already be in town for it?

Tim let Dick usher him into his room and agreed to cooperate when he was threatened with Alfred again if he didn’t get some sleep. Once his door closed, he changed and crawled into his bed to get some rest. He had been sleeping a decent amount lately, so he wasn’t sure what they were so bothered about. And why had Barbara looked into his research secretly in the first place? Things weren’t adding up. They were up to something behind his back. He would find out what it was... After he got some sleep.

——

Danny groaned as he dragged himself up off his dingy couch. The notebook he had been scribbling in the night before was laying on the floor next to the couch where he had dropped it before going to sleep. He pushed it aside with his foot as he stood, shuffling over to one of the boarded over windows. He squinted out one of them, taking in the light from the street outside. Not as bright as he was anticipating, although with the ever-present smog of Gotham he probably should have expected that. It was still far brighter than he wanted to be staring at. He stepped away from the window and ran his hands through his hair, cringing at the grime he could feel.

He needed a shower. Bad. He probably wasn’t going to find one of those anytime soon, and he really didn’t want to fight his stitching in the shower either. Instead, he returned to the couch and packed his things back into his backpack. Scooping up the notebook last, he looked over his notes from the previous night before shoving it into the bag as well and phasing the entire bag into the nearest wall for safe-keeping.

His chest burned again.

Was that little bit of power enough to exhaust him in this state? A deep ache resounded, near his heart. The Y itched, searing the skin around his stitches. Danny hissed lowly as he held a hand softly against his chest. The Fentons cut into him and caused this. They were to blame for how he felt now. They did this to him, and they deserved to pay for what they did.

Danny shook his head. Squeezed his eyes shut. Moved his hand from his chest to the side of his head. Where did that come from? He couldn’t say it was wrong, but he didn’t usually feel particularly vindictive about what the Fentons did. It wasn’t like they hadn’t hurt him plenty of times before, even if it had never been this bad. He shook his head again and headed up to the second floor to slide back out the window upstairs.

Out the window—sliding it closed behind him—Danny clamored down the sketchy fire escape to the alley below and set out to see what he could find for food. He wasn’t sure how he was going to survive on the streets in general, but food was something he was used to scavenging for more than anyone back in Amity Park realized—even Jazz sometimes. He started towards the areas he had passed the previous day where he knew there were some fast food places and some grocery stores, keeping an eye on the other people on the street he passed them.

When they were younger, Jazz and him quickly realized that the Fentons weren’t going to feed them consistently. That they were going to be forgotten in favor of projects in the lab. It’s not that the Fentons hadn’t cared, after all, the Fentons weren’t feeding themselves either. By the time they emerged from the lab to eat, Jazz and him were already off to school or tucked away in bed, depending on the time. So they learned to get food themselves. When they were younger, that meant Jazz and him spent more time than anyone realized scavenging outside the house for food.

The young Fenton children were no strangers to fishing food out of dumpsters to eat for the day.

What Jazz didn’t know was that it didn’t stop for Danny. When they got older, Jazz got a job and spent time cooking in the kitchen with food she bought, or brought food home for them. When Danny spent more time out of the house hunting ghosts, or more time over at Sam and Tucker’s, he supposedly ate out with them at Nasty Burger or at their houses.

He didn’t. But he couldn’t bother Jazz with that. Sure, there were a few times he ate with them. But Sam’s parents hated him, and he didn’t like to bother Tucker’s parents too much because they always got a bit too worried when they saw how skinny he really was. Like they knew he wasn’t eating at home. And he didn’t have the money to eat at Nasty Burger, and didn’t want to leech off of his friends or Jazz’s income even more. After he drifted from his friends and still spent time away from the house, he just kept it up. He spent enough time in alleys between ghost fights and hiding to change into Phantom, it wasn’t a stretch to add in grabbing food while he was there. He just didn’t tell Jazz about it.

Now, he had even more dumpsters at his disposal. A bigger city meant more options. If anything, he might even be able to eat more. Although he doubted that. There really wasn’t anyone else in Amity Park digging in the dumpsters for food. In Gotham? He would likely have some competition for the food.

Danny edged into an alley behind a fast food joint ironically named Batburger, sliding up the hood of his Wayne Aerospace hoodie as he made his way towards the dumpsters. All he needed was something small for breakfast. His stomach growled and lurched in protest. Okay, maybe something larger for breakfast. He hadn’t eaten supper. Normally he had better luck at night, after places closed. But this place, Batburger, looked like the type of place that never closed, so maybe he would get lucky with when they threw out older food and there would still be something for him.

He sidled up to the dumpster and flipped one of the lids open. He knew he should probably cringe at the smell, but really it was pretty similar to the Nasty Burger dumpster and he had fished through that too many times to count. He pushed himself onto his toes, reaching over the edge of the dumpster to begin rooting around to see what was in there. Just leaning up against the dumpster pulled at his stitches, and he hissed in annoyance. His stomach growled again. Danny pushed himself further onto his toes, doing his best to ignore the burning—searing—of his chest as he leaned against it.

He hadn’t been digging for more than a few seconds when someone else’s footsteps made him fall still, listening to them come closer on the street next to where he was. A teen walked past the opening of the alley. They looked at each other. Locked eyes. The darker skinned teen’s eyes went a bit wide, taking in Danny’s appearance. Danny himself was leaning over the edge of the dumpster, one foot barely touching the ground still as he leaned in to grab at a bag. The teen began to talk, and Danny leaned back, dropping onto the ground instead of half into the dumpster.

“Oh hey, Ti-“ When Danny’s feet hit the ground and his hood fell back, the other stopped his sentence, squinting at Danny as if he was looking at something bright.

“Sorry,” the teen continued instead, “I thought you were someone else.” There was a pause between the two of them.

“Oh.” Danny hesitated. “Okay.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer, the other still squinting like Danny was hard to actually look directly at. Danny felt like he should bolt, but also like he was frozen in place. He couldn’t move. He stared back.

“Sorry again, I’ll get going.” The other said, taking a half step back before turning and walking away. Based on his clothes and the time of day Danny figured he was probably headed to school. He wondered what Casper High would think of him going missing. What Mr. Lancer would think. He shook off the thought and turned back to the dumpster, climbing back over the edge and snagging one of the bags to drag closer. His chest screamed at him. He ignored it still, grimacing. He was pretty sure this bag had a discarded meal in it. Someone must have made an order wrong. Perfect.

——

Duke paused, hearing scuffling noises in the alley behind the Batburger he was walking to. He was at the entrance to the alley. When he looked down into the alley, he locked eyes with someone. Vivid blue eyes. Flattened—yet somehow still unruly—black hair under the hood of a Wayne Aerospace hoodie, short stature hunched over the dumpster as he leaned in, only his toes of one foot still on the ground. What in the world was Tim doing digging in a Batburger dumpster? Tim leaned back, stopping his hunt through the trash to deposit himself on the ground—with all the grace Tim usually used when lacking caffeine—and Duke figured he was about to get his answer.

“Oh hey, Ti-“ He stopped short. When Tim’s feet hit the ground—hard—his hood was knocked back and with it, Duke realized that he was not looking at Tim. When the other boy’s hood fell back he lit up, glowing a bright white tinted with faint icy blue and green that reminded him a bit too much of Jason’s eyes when he was pissed.

“Sorry,” Duke said instead, “I thought you were someone else.” There was a pause as they stared at each other for a moment. Or, really, the other boy stared at him and Duke did his best to try to see through the bright light to identify what the other actually looked like. He really had looked just like Tim, but now he was too bright to tell. Duke couldn’t stop squinting.

“Oh.” The other boy hesitated. “Okay.” He fidgeted, and Duke realized he was probably making him uncomfortable. This was a random street kid, digging through the trash. They were filthy—he could tell that even through the blinding light—and likely now spooked, unsure of what to do while he stared at them.

“Sorry again, I’ll get going.” He offered awkwardly, taking a half step backwards. When the icy blue inside blinding white seemed to lose its sharp edge, Duke figured he made the right choice to back off. He turned and walked away, heading for the front of the building instead of the back. A random meta kid, probably homeless by the state of him. Duke didn’t need to make the other uncomfortable. Something about him struck a chord, though. He really had looked just like Tim. Duke shook his head as he headed inside to pick up the Robin Nuggets he was grabbing for himself and a friend for breakfast before school.

It had to be a coincidence. After all, there was no way for a meta to look just like Tim. Tim didn’t have the meta gene, and clones never looked like metas either. He could think about it after school.

——

Danny came back up from the dumpster clutching a to-go bag in hand which felt like it had food in it, grinning victoriously. Breakfast. He dropped back down to the ground, swung the dumpster shut again, and clamored on top of the dumpster to use it to get to the roof. The roof would be a safer place to eat his meal. He didn’t know Gotham’s streets well enough to tuck himself into a corner and eat comfortably, but he bet the rooftops were often left alone.

Danny stuck the top of the to-go bag in his mouth, holding on with his teeth, and found his way up the side of the building. The Batburger wasn’t tall, so it didn’t take him long. He flopped down on the roof, leaned himself up against some of the restaurant’s ventilation, and opened up his meal to see what he got. His chest was still screaming at him, but he was doing his best to ignore it. He probably should’ve been thinking about it more before leaning over the edge of the dumpster in the first place, but the growling of his stomach had taken precedence and nobody had ever blamed Danny for thinking things through before. He would probably have to double check his stitches after this. Opening the bag revealed a wrapped burger and some fries at the bottom of the bag. He dug for the fries first, ignoring the taste of cold oil as he chomped on them before unwrapping the burger. He didn’t bother looking at what was on it. It wouldn’t matter. It had been wrapped, and food was food.

Danny tried to lean back into a more comfortable position for his chest as he ate at a steady pace, watching the city from the low roof of the Batburger.

----
(Note: There is fanart for this chapter!)

Fanart by this lovely individual: https://www.tumblr.com/reverse--necromancer

Chapter Text

Danny crumpled up the Batburger bag, and set it beside him as he continued to look out over the city. Gotham city looked nicer from a rooftop than the alleys he had been spending time in. He wasn’t very high up, only being on top of a Batburger, but it was still better than the ground. He wished he could go for a fly, but knew he couldn’t tap into that type of power in his condition. He didn’t know when he would be able to use powers like that again. He should probably get moving. Find out more about his new area he was calling home while he healed. Think of a longer-term plan.

Knowing that the Drakes were dead already really ruined any chances Danny had in Gotham. His only hope now for the city was the ambient ectoplasm and the fact that an orphan might go overlooked in the area he had chosen to stay in. He would have to touch base with Jazz soon, and he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep it from her that he already knew the Drakes weren’t an option. He had to heal, though, so he couldn’t go anywhere else. He was stuck. His only option was to gather supplies, make a plan, and settle in for a while. Jazz was going to be furious when she found out.

Danny sat there, watched over the city for a little longer, before he finally stood up on the roof. He couldn’t stay here forever. He pulled up his hoodie and shirt, checked his bandages, and was happy to see that nothing had bled through. He went back to the edge of the roof and carefully scaled back down the side of the small building, ending with himself in the alley behind the Batburger again. He mentally noted to keep this Batburger on his route when he made one for picking up food. For now, he headed back out onto the streets.

He started walking a pattern, zig-zagging the streets in the areas surrounding where he was now staying. He needed a good idea of what the area looked like as a whole as the day was kicking off, so he could be aware of as much as possible. He spent the next several hours doing this.

——

In the middle of Danny’s wandering pattern he had made as he looked at everything he could, a boy a bit taller than him but in a similar condition of grime by outward appearance spoke.

“Hey, fresh meat,” the boy called casually, as if that was a reasonable thing to call someone. The boy was leaned up against the corner of an alley with his arms crossed over his own dirty clothes, as he stared Danny down.

“Yeah?” He questioned, and stepped closer to the boy but still kept his distance.

“What are you doing in the neighborhood?” The other asked as he looked Danny up and down like he was judging him in some unknown way.

“Trying to find somewhere to lay low. Somewhere to live for a while.” He answered carefully. It was the truth, and it didn’t reveal too much about himself he figured.

“Alright, name’s Colin, how ‘bout you?” The boy pushed himself off the wall with a jerk of his shoulder, but kept his arms crossed. They wouldn’t be shaking hands, and that was alright to Danny.

“Danny.” He was glad the boy hadn’t produced a last name, because he wasn’t sure what he would say in response. He certainly wouldn’t be going by Fenton, and he wasn’t sure it was smart to go by Drake when they had been a well-known rich family in Gotham before their passing.

“Well, Danny, us alley kids outta stick by each other. We got a small group right ‘ere, if yer up for being a part of it. We help each other out.” Colin continued as he glanced around the street like he expected someone to pop out at them now that he had said something more.

“I don’t know…” Danny trailed off and frowned slightly.

“Us alley kids gotta stick up for each other. Ain’t no tellin’ when a group will come through and try to push us inta Crime Alley.” Colin pushed on, undeterred by Danny’s hesitance.

“Crime Alley?”

“You dunno Crime Alley? It’s right up ‘gainst ‘ere, thatta way.” Colin gestured towards the rougher area which Danny had sensed was a ghost’s lair. Colin continued,

“If you wander alone yer gonna get caught for sure. Ain’t nobody wanna get caught by others ‘round ‘ere.” Colin paused, letting Danny take it in.

“I suppose that makes sense. Looking out for each other is a good idea, then.” Danny finally agreed and he nodded slightly as he looked back at Colin.

Colin broke out into a wide grin and he clapped a hand onto Danny’s shoulder.

“Perfect! Meet me ‘ere when the sun goes down. I’ll show you where we talk.” With that, Colin strolled into the alley behind him and promptly disappeared.

Danny wasn’t sure, but he might’ve just joined a gang. The information from locals would be invaluable if he was to continue to stay here, however, so it would have to work out. He didn’t want to stay standing around with nobody else there, so he moved on and finished his pattern of scanning the streets around his place. It had gotten close to lunch at this point, and Danny knew he was likely to keep being hungry more consistently in his stay here.

Danny circled back to a grocery store he had seen. He checked the large dumpsters behind the store for anything thrown out, taking his time to look carefully and not try to pull on his chest too much. It took him a considerable amount of time to do it carefully, and he found almost nothing. He had located a jar of peanut butter, though, and stuffed that into his hoodie pocket. He was too tired to keep looking past that, so he headed back to his little burned down apartment to rest.

In his apartment, Danny set the peanut butter on the floor next to the couch and curled himself up, not bothering to get his backpack out. He passed out immediately.

——

Tim woke later than he would have liked, but maybe it would appease his family. He grabbed his laptop and checked to see if Babs had done anything else, but it didn’t look like she had. He sighed and pulled up his recent casework. He would have to keep an eye on what his family was up to, but for now he had other things to get done.

It was some time later when Damian slammed his door open. Tim grit his teeth but didn’t feel like starting a fight over it.

“What?” he questioned.

“Pennyworth told me to fetch you for lunch,” Damian stated before he turned and left. Of course, he left the door wide open.

Tim scowled after him. Since it was Alfred who had sent him, he didn’t waste more energy on it than that. Tim closed his laptop and dragged himself off his bed. He stretched, groaned, and headed out the open door. He actually closed it behind himself, unlike some people.

Down at lunch most of the household was gone, but already at the table were Dick and Damian. Tim sat himself down at the same time that Steph popped into the room with Cass and they also sat.

Alfred had little sandwiches on platters for lunch, and Tim dug in the moment he was able.

“So,” Dick started, “How’d your rest go? Feeling better?” He questioned Tim.

“I was fine , thank you. And I’m fine now.” Tim rolled his eyes, he wished his family wasn’t so dramatic sometimes. But, they all dressed up at night to beat people up, and he willingly joined in on that, so he couldn’t say much.

“That’s not what Babs said.” Dick arched an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, whatever. She could’ve just asked me if she was worried about something.” Tim muttered, eating more of his sandwiches.

Cass seemed to look him up and down slightly before she turned to Dick.

“He is okay.” She stated, and Dick accepted that. Figures that he would listen to everybody but Tim himself about how he was doing. But Tim also knew it wasn’t worth starting an actual fight over. He had too much else to get done to also start a fight with his older brother.

“Hey Cass, Steph, are you guys busy? I could use some fresh eyes on a case I’m working.” He turned to face the girls better.

“Busy.” Cass gave him a small smile and he nodded slightly back.

“I can help. What’re we looking at?” Steph asked while simultaneously shoving a whole sandwich into her mouth.

Tim grimaced at her talking partially through a sandwich and turned back to his own food.

“Some stuff has been buzzing around down by the docks, and I can’t find the connecting string.” He admitted.

“We can go look at it right after lunch, if you want.” Steph suggested, and he nodded along again.

“Yeah, that would be great.” He agreed. He went silent as he went back to eating, but he could feel that Cass still had her eyes on him.