Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Red Hood was on patrol with Batgirl (purple edition) when it happened.

He usually patrolled solo. But it was an all-Bats-on-deck situation for the past week after an Arkham breakout put fifteen major rogues on the loose. Things had been winding down the past few nights, but it was likely just the calm before the storm. The smarter ones were likely laying low and scheming.

So he didn’t normally patrol with Blondie. He didn’t normally patrol with anyone. But Batgirl (spooky edition) hated his guts, Robin (nerd version) hated his guts, he couldn’t stand B, Nightwing didn’t trust him with the baby bat, and Nightwing himself was in high-demand. Both Robins always fought to patrol with him whenever he was in the city, while also trying to give off the vibe that they didn’t particularly care one way or another. It was pathetic. Hood was so glad he wasn’t one of them.

But after patrolling with Nightwing last night and in a group of three the night before, B had put his foot down and forcibly separated the two Batgirls tonight, much to their displeasure. Blondie did not have a good opinion of him. However, she would probably spit on him if he was on fire, which was good enough to be patrol partners, in Batman’s eyes. So they had each other’s backs for the next few hours.

Maybe he was banking on Steph’s bad opinion of Jason being mostly out of solidarity with Tim and Cass. Or maybe the old man was hoping his two failure Robins would take each other out. Who knows.

So there he was, stalking across rooftops with Batgirl, when suddenly he feels like someone walked over his grave. Every nerve is alight. Every hair stands on end. A thrill of energy races down from his head to his toes.

Something is here.

There.

Red Hood turns to face north-northwest and fires off his grapple. He’s gone as fast as a bullet.

“Hood!” Batgirl calls. He doesn’t care. He can’t care. All he can focus on is that presence. Calling to him like a siren song. Heady and intoxicating like whiskey. Everything will be fine as long as he gets to it. He needs to get to it. Needs to drink it in like he needs air.

Fuck, it really was a siren song.

But unlike Odysseus, he doesn’t think stopping his ears up with wax will block it out. He isn’t even sure what he’s sensing. How he knows where to go. How it’s drawing him in like a bee to a flower.

He isn’t seeking so much as he is being pulled. All the same, he tries to race ahead even faster. He can feel himself getting closer. Can feel the presence getting stronger. An aura pulling him in, drowning him and sweeping him away like a riptide. A force of nature.

He was heading towards something powerful.

Hood cleared a jump between buildings that had been borderline at best. He sprinted harder than he had during an actual chase earlier that night. His teeth itched something wild in his mouth, and he snapped his jaw a few times beneath the helmet.

There. His prey, his savior, his salvation. The balm that would fix him. Make everything right again. Some lanky college kid in a hoodie and a beanie, bag slung over one shoulder. Hood dropped down off the roof next to him and landed in a crouch. The man had turned to watch his descent and he didn’t flinch at all when 200+ pounds of mob boss was suddenly in front of him. Utterly unfazed, like he had expected that, like he had been waiting for him.

Hood pushed him up against the alley wall and held him in place, fumbling with the finicky latches of his helmet with one hand. He hated the damn thing. But no way was he going to risk an explosion right now. He finally ripped the helmet off and tossed it down the alley. The man tilted his head back, exposing his throat, and Hood sank his teeth in.

Bliss.

Sharp iron and crisp citrus flooded his tongue. He lapped at the incision hungrily, drawing a breathy sound out of the man. His fangs (his fangs?) pierced deeper, fresh blood squirting out straight into his mouth. Venous. A slow bleed. Hood ran his tongue over both incision points, tonguing at them thoroughly to encourage more blood out. He sealed his mouth over one and sucked.

Not enough, it wasn’t coming fast enough. He pressed in harder.

The man squirmed where Hood had him pinned. He switched from a hand on his chest to two holding his arms. The man flexed like he was testing the grip, and there was strength there, like holding an alien and knowing it was merely because they were allowing you to hold them. He could shake Hood off like so much water. Instead, he seemed satisfied with the grip and arched under him, pressing his neck further into Hood’s mouth.

He could cry. It was like something inside him had finally clicked into place, and the release of tension was agony in its relief. A broken bone being set. Things had been wrong for so long, but now they wouldn’t be, not anymore, not since he found this angel and drank his blood like manna from Heaven.

He pulled back, blood dripping from his teeth, the side of the man’s neck covered in it—

A gasp.

Not from the man.

Hood turned to the mouth of the alley and there was a civilian, phone out and pointed at them. The new man clicked a button and booked it.

The video started with Red Hood holding a man in place against an alley wall and ripping his own helmet off. He tossed it down the alley and the camera jolted as the man holding it flinched. But the view stabilized just in time to see the Red Hood bite down on his victim’s neck.

“Holy shit?” the camera man whispered. He crept slightly closer, turning down the zoom as he went. The picture became that much clearer. It showed the pinned man struggling but unable to break Hood’s hold.

Hood feasted.

The man moaned—in pain? In fear?—and arched as if to stretch away from the monster’s teeth. Hood dove back in, not giving him any reprieve. Chasing after his throat.

“What the hell is he…?” the camera man whispered. “I never thought Hood was the type.”

What looked like a strange, heavy make out session drew to a close with Hood pulling back to reveal a mess of blood all over the side of the poor man’s neck. The camera man gasped, and Hood turned toward him—showing viciously big fangs in his mouth, coated in red blood. His eyes were glowing alien green under the domino lenses.

Hood pulled away from his victim to advance on the camera man.

The video clicked off.

Vicki Vale’s face was grim on the screen. “This video, filmed by an anonymous bystander, has shaken Gothamite society. For decades now, rumors have circulated that Batman is a vampire, and later, that his associated sidekicks were thralls, or vampires themselves. Now, seeing the Red Hood drink blood from an innocent man, those rumors seem to be confirmed. We now join Arnold Armitage down on the ground to hear what other Gothamites are saying. Arnold?”

“Thank you, Vicki. We’re doing live street interviews with passersby here on Park Row. Say, sir, what do you think of the video circulating of the Red Hood drinking someone’s blood?”

“I always knew the Bats were vampires,” the man said, still walking.

Again and again the question was asked.

“I thought we were safe from Hood. I guess not.”

“Seeing Hood assaulting somebody… you can’t trust nobody, I guess.”

“The Bat will take him out for good for being a meta in his city.”

“I’m scared. I thought we were safe from Hood. That he was protecting the Alley, not… feeding on it.”

“I think the whole vampire thing is hot. Hood, if you’re watching this, I’m down.”

“Did they find the body of that poor young man yet? Well, I mean, it was Hood. He probably deserved it.”

“If Hood wants to start straight-up eating bad guys, who are we to stop him? That’s community service. He’s cleaning up the streets.”

“Of [BLEEP]ing course Gotham has vampires now. That’s just what we needed.”

“I am forming a group to drive a wooden stake through the Red Hood’s heart. If you are interested in joining, we have flyers—”

Jason had many front businesses, but the boxing gym on 54^th was his favorite. The old owner had fallen on hard times and got blacklisted after he was caught fixing fights, and now he was a captain in Red Hood’s gang. Hood had bought out the business and hired the man back to run his underground fight ring and train up new recruits. He won’t have his people embarrassing him, breaking thumbs throwing sloppy punches like Maroni’s men are.

He hired in a different manager to run the legit side of the gym. It was a full time job, after all. Couldn’t ask Lee to do two of ‘em. So the two managers had a shared office—one working daytime hours, the other night. Hood himself had claimed the conference room as his preferred workspace. It was good—it was big enough that he could have meetings with everyone he needed to at once, if the situation called for it. He had four lieutenants, captains under all of them, and two very well-paid, separate accounting teams, and then the rank-and-file.

It was amazing just how much work there was to being a crime lord.

But the money ain’t gonna launder itself.

He sat down at the head of the conference table and opened his laptop. Emails. Oh joy.

Mickey came in and set down a briefcase on the table.

“What is this?” Hood asked.

“Protection money.”

“It’s not due for another week.”

Mickey shrugged. “They insisted. Also wanted me to give you their names, so you’d know who paid early.”

He rubbed at his brow. “Who all—Who all did this?”

Mickey listed off eleven names.

Hood’s protection racket runs on a pay-what-you-can basis. He’s gotten fruitcakes before. Some businesses give $25 a month, some families just give $5, too nervous to offer more and set a precedent, too nervous to offer any less. Some give a more hefty sum, some do it as a set percent of earnings for the month rather than a flat fee. It all goes right back into the community. It pays his goons, it buys their health insurance, it funds the shelters and soup kitchens run by the Red Hood gang. Mrs. Gonzalez cried a few months ago when she saw the casserole she offered being served to homeless kids.

She sent in three casseroles the month after.

“Did they say why?” Hood asked. There was $2565 in the briefcase. All cash. All fresh from the bank. Paid early.

Not good.

“Nope,” Mickey said. “But a lotta people saw that video, boss.”

Hood sighed. “I’m not a vampire. I don’t eat people.”

“Wasn’t saying you were. I’ll put this in the safe?”

“Yeah, sure. Make sure to tell Han and Ryan.”

“Right, right.”

Hood sighed. He turned back to his fucking emails.

Batman was a bitch as soon as he got to the cave.

“Hood,” he said. “Explain.”

“Explain what,” he bit out.

“The video,” he said. “You attacked a civilian and drank his blood.”

“What of it?”

“You don’t see a problem with that?” Robin (Tim) asked.

“What I do in my free time is none of your business.”

“It is when you’re attacking innocent people,” Batman said.

“I didn’t ‘attack’ anybody.”

“You very clearly did. Everyone saw,” Duke said. “What? It’s true. People at my school were talking about it.”

“Someone threw holy water at me on patrol last night,” Robin (Damian) said. “Your indiscretions are affecting my life now.”

“Indiscretions? Excuse me? You’re acting like I fucked the man.”

“Hey!”

“Language!”

“Well, why did you bite his neck, Hood?” Dick asked.

“Also, were you wearing fake fangs? What the hell?” Steph said. “Way to commit to the bit, but like. Why?”

“I wasn’t wearing fangs!”

“There were fangs in the video.”

“If they aren’t fake, then open your mouth and show us,” Replacement said.

“What the fuck. No.”

“Hood,” Batman said. “Have you grown fangs?”

“So what if I have! What the fuck is all of your deal?”

“If you’re mutating, then we need to run tests—”

“I am out. Call me if Gotham is burning.”

“But what if you’re turning into a vampire for real?” Tim called out after him. Jason flipped him the bird.

Chapter Text

He wasn’t actually a moron. He knew that something was fucked up with him. He grew fangs, for crying out loud. That was not normal. And he had honed in on that guy like he was possessed. He had somehow tracked him from miles away, when he hadn’t known he existed before. That wasn’t natural.

So he went to see the doctor.

He knocked on the greenhouse door and Harley Quinn opened it. She squealed and grabbed him in a bone-crushing hug—a legitimate concern, with her. Harley had the meta gene—just the slightest touch of super strength. Not enough to truly consider her a meta rogue, but certainly enough to make her more dangerous.

Not everyone could strangle a man with their legs or swing a giant mallet like it was a flyswatter, after all.

“Hoodie!”

“Hey, Harls. I came to see Ivy. Is she in?”

“Not me?” she pouted.

“You know I love you, Harley, but this is kind of an issue for a different type of doctor.”

“Ah,” she said. “The fangs thing?”

He nodded. “The fangs thing.”

Harley led him through the greenhouse up to her girlfriend. Ivy was taking soil samples with a collection kit from some overgrown plant monstrosity. She glanced up at their approach.

“Hello, Hood,” she said. “What brings you by?”

“Came to see ya, doc,” he said. “You’re the expert in mutating vigilantes, aren’t ya?”

She smiled, green lips stretching across green skin. “You could say I have some experience with that,” she said. “Tell me everything from the top.”

Hood did. Ivy ran tests. She took images, scans, samples. Ran bloodwork and various panels. Had him run on a treadmill for half an hour while studying his heartrate and breathing. Made him spit and pee into cups. She had a full medical laboratory attached to the greenhouse. There were currently no human test subjects (she preferred to run field tests, not lab tests. Ivy’s victims were always people she thought deserved it), but there were a number of carefully contained pollen strains, and plants that were a bit too animate.

Ivy would talk to them or pet them like they were animals, and they responded, disturbingly, like animals.

“Alright,” she said finally, putting a vial into a centrifuge. “Come back in one week, and send me any prior medical files you have. I should be able to get you some answers then.”

“You got it, doc.”

Jason had research to do. He had drunk a stranger’s blood and suddenly felt better, healthier, more at peace than he ever had in his life. The effect stayed, too. He was riding high, mind sharp and senses clear and focused. He had more energy. He felt physically stronger, and his workouts at his gym supported that idea.

His good mood was bleeding over. He was feeling downright civil. The other day, he had let Duke hide out in one of his safehouses to avoid the wrath of Alfred for failing to pick up his room. Helped the kid with his homework and everything. Even made dinner.

His people were relaxing, bit by bit, reassured that all was well and their boss wasn’t going to snap and maul them.

But that was no excuse for him to get complacent. Or ignore the very real concerns that that incident had raised.

His helmet cam had gotten clear shots of the man before he ripped it off. Black hair, blue eyes that flashed green when they met Hood’s, about 6’1” and 180-ish pounds. Wearing a baggy hoodie that held no identifying marks, equally baggy jeans, and a generic beanie. He could be anyone.

He was Daniel James Fenton, according to facial recognition. Age 21, nominally unemployed but making regular cash deposits into his bank account. He had dropped out of high school back in Ohio and later gone on to get his GED at a snail’s pace. Worked a handful of odd jobs back in his small town before packing it in and moving to Gotham. He had come along with his older sister, Dr. Jasmine Fenton, licensed clinical psychologist with a degree from Metropolis College of Medicine. Currently employed as a therapist at Arkham Asylum.

Daniel had applied for a job as a guard at Arkham when he first got here and gotten rejected. He didn’t pass the background check. A history of petty crimes as a teenager had disqualified him. Apparently he had some beef with his hometown’s mayor. Which is all fine and good when you’re a kid, but then he grew up.

And the background checks for Arkham guards were rigorous. Bruce had made sure. Not that it did any good.

But still, Daniel Fenton, with a petty juvenile record and a GED rather than a diploma, did not make the cut. With his under the table income, Jason quickly concluded that he had found some less than legal work to engage in. Probably the only type he could get. Certainly the only work that would pay him so well.

He and his sister had a nice two-bedroom apartment in a decent part of Gotham. That came at a steep price. One that even a doctoral psychologist employed by the top institute in the area likely couldn’t afford on her own. Not while first starting out.

Jason dove into his investigation. A few days of staking out their apartment familiarized him with both sibllings’ schedules. He carefully planted some bugs while they were away.

His bugs had constant interference while Danny was home, but worked fine when it was just Jazz. Must be some type of meta blocking ability. Maybe Danny emitted some form of radiation or other.

But three days of listening to Jazz revealed the Fenton siblings’ preferred names, Jazz’s favorite TV shows, her music habits, the fact that she could not fucking cook, and a minimal to nonexistent social life. No phone calls or video chats to friends here or back home. None to parents or other relatives, either. No going out to meet up with people. The only person Jazz had was Danny.

Which raised a lot of red flags.

So Jason went back to investigating their pre-Gotham life.

The Fenton parents were engineers who called themselves “ectobiologists” and made a living off their patents, while clearly wishing to be taken seriously for their research papers.

The research papers were shit. Jason forced himself to read them all anyway.

He was pretty sure half of them could be submitted as evidence to court of extreme ethical misconduct and meta abuse. If anyone else had ever bothered to read this shit, they’d probably be in jail. They admitted to grave violations of the Meta Protections Act.

Apparently they had discovered some species they dubbed “ghosts” and immediately decided to go full mad scientist about it. They even openly admitted that the species had their own separate home dimension. And yet. They decided to capture and eviscerate a bunch of “subjects.”

There seemed to be no ethical or safety concerns from them. Jason was vaguely surprised their house hadn’t been wiped off the map yet—in either fully justified vengeance or just from plain incompetence. But apparently Amity Park had some ghost vigilante whose sole job was to try to keep the peace between the two species.

Or, had. Past tense. Phantom hadn’t been spotted in Amity Park in over two years now. Red Huntress—a human—had taken over his role. There were rumors online from locals that the Fentons had finally defeated him once and for all.

Jason hoped he had gotten away.

A history of 911 calls painted a portrait of a highly dangerous living environment. There were frequent fires, experiments gone wrong, noise complaints and concerned neighbors. Danny’s grades had been almost as good as Jazz’s until high school, when they took a nosedive and he started skipping classes and showing up with poorly-concealed injuries. A teacher had filed a report with CPS that had gotten lost in the system, never followed up on. The mayor’s name popped up.

Apparently Dr. and Dr. Fenton were very good friends with the mayor. They had history together that went back decades.

Jason was disgusted. It explained Jazz’s lack of social life, though—she was too busy being a teenage parent to her own younger brother. The fact that she was as accomplished as she was was a goddamn miracle. She had likely been forced to be Danny’s primary caretaker and advocate from far too young an age.

He had found notes about her attending parent-teacher conferences. Even scheduling those meetings herself when she had concerns about Danny.

She was only two years older.

Jason quietly took $10,000 out of Vladimir Masters’ account and ran it through a few dozen shell companies until it was clean and untraceable. Then he had it “accidentally” wired to Jazz.

The two of them deserved financial compensation. He knew she would do something good with it.

Jason had gone to great pains to learn Danny’s schedule specifically so he could avoid him like the plague and, hopefully, prevent another incident from happening.

So he was understandably surprised when he walked into his gym one morning and found the man waiting for him.

Worse, everyone in the gym had clearly recognized him from the video. It was near-silent in there.

Danny was leaned back against the ropes of the boxing ring casually. He stayed there, waiting, and let Hood approach him.

Jason planted his feet. He was in full gear, covered head to toe in bulletproof armor and leather. He had seven guns on him, a handful of knives, and his serpentine blade. Worse came to worse, he could summon the All Blades. He felt the pull of the meta working on him, but Jason was the Master of All, he had trained with the League of Assassins and the All Caste and fucking Batman—he could resist a bit of mental manipulation. If that was even what this was.

“What do you want,” he asked.

“To talk,” Danny said casually. “Can we go somewhere private?”

“No.”

“Really? Because you’ll feel better if you feed first and then we talk. I figured you wouldn’t want to do that in front of people again. I mean, unless you’re into that, which—”

“Stop talking,” he said. This man had no shame. He was a Dick Grayson level threat. Jason needed to tread carefully. “Follow me.”

Danny listened, as if that was in any way a safe decision. Then again, this was the guy who had walked into the heart of Red Hood’s territory and offered his throat up. If he had a sense of danger at all, it was twisted beyond belief.

His parents probably contributed to that, Hood thought darkly. He wouldn’t be a party to continuing the trend.

They went into his “office” and Hood gestured for Danny to take a seat. He unholstered one of his guns and pointed it at him as he took his own seat.

Danny didn’t seem to care.

“So, my name’s Danny,” he said.

“I know,” Hood said. “I know everything about you.”

“Really? Like, for real, or are you just saying that? Because that could drastically change how this conversation goes.”

Hood said nothing. He let the blank face of his helmet do the intimidation for him.

“Well, I’m gonna take you’re word for it, so I hope you weren’t lying. Anyway, you know how I’m Savior of the Infinite Realms? Because of that, I could sense how weak your ecto-signature was and that you needed help. You could also instinctively sense that I would be able to help and likely felt compelled to seek me out because of that. I have pretty much near infinite clean ectoplasm, and yours is all janky, pretty gross-smelling to be honest, so you clearly needed an infusion of the good stuff. There’s a pretty simple way to get it.” He shrugged.

Jason floundered.

He was suddenly so glad he read all those garbage articles and knew what ectoplasm and ecto-signatures were.

He stood there for a good minute, sorting through all those words and trying to process them.

“Why do I need clean ectoplasm?” he settled on.

“Because yours is rotten; I told you.”

“That explains nothing. Since when do humans have ectoplasm at all? None of your parents’ research said anything about that.”

“Well, you’re not a human,” Danny said slowly.

“Yes I am.”

“No you aren’t.”

“This isn’t a debate.”

“You’re right. It’s not,” Danny said. “You seriously believe you’re a human being?”

Jason stared at him.

There was no response to that. They were arguing over whether the sky was blue. Basic unchangeable facts shouldn’t be up for debate. Shouldn’t have both of them looking at the other like he couldn’t see the nose in front of his face.

“You died,” Danny said pointedly. “And now you’re back.”

“Typical cape bullshit.” He shrugged.

“Not for you. Your Rising was different. You were actually, truly dead,” he said. “And now you’re a ghost.”

Chapter Text

“I’m alive,” Red Hood said firmly. Danny actually felt kinda bad for him. He knew he’d have to explain things, but he hadn’t expected Hood to be ignorant of this.

“You are,” he said gently. “You’re also dead. We’re what’s called halfas. Half alive, half dead. Both and neither at once.”

“That’s impossible.”

“So is Rising from the dead in general, but like you said, for some people, it’s common.”

He folded his arms. “I thought ghosts were extradimensional beings.”

“We are! But ghosts is also a literal term. We are emotional expressions of post-human consciousness imposed upon ectoplasmic energy. Which you’re short on! Kinda like you’re starving, but also the only thing you’ve ever eaten is garbage.”

“What the hell.”

“Yeah!”

“So I need fresh ectoplasm? Or else what? I die again? How do you know all this anyway?”

“Again, Savior of the Realms, saving ghosts is literally my job. Also I can sense it on you. Like looking at a starving person and seeing all their ribs. Or smelling sickness. And, well, you wouldn’t exactly die again, because you can’t. But you would Fade. Cease to exist.”

“What?!”

“Fading is kinda like the ghost equivalent of a final death, I suppose—”

“What do you mean, I can’t die?!”

Danny shrugged. “Halfa thing. You have to actually be alive in order to die. And we both already did that.”

Hood stared at him. It was really hard to tell what he was thinking, what with the helmet. But his aura was reeling.

Oh, he was freaking out. Danny should do something about that.

“Um,” he said. Great start. “It’s alright?”

Hood swore. He paced around the length of the conference room.

He stopped and fiddled with the latches at the back of his helmet, ripping it off like he had done a week ago. His eyes glowed brilliant green. “You said I could drink your blood?”

Heat lanced through him. “Yes.”

Danny leaned back against the table and tilted his head. Hood descended on him. Fangs pierced his neck and sharp pain bloomed. Sucking pressure sealed over the side of his neck. Pain and suction. Hood’s breath on his neck. His venom pumping in, flowing into Danny’s bloodstream, chemicals flooding straight to his brain and giving him a heady rush. Ghost venom was a hell of a high. Had to give prey a reason to stick around and allow themselves to be bitten, after all. Nature’s incentive.

Danny moaned. Pleasure coursed through him. Ancients, this felt so good. The pressure was more than bruising—if Danny was a human, the marks would be visible for a week. He almost wished they would last. Who else could say they’d had this?

Hood tipped him further back against the table, holding him steady. Danny squirmed to find a more comfortable position. Hood cupped the back of his head, adjusting the angle.

When he finally pulled back, Hood had blood coating his lips. A drop fell loose.

“Thanks,” Hood rasped.

“Anytime,” Danny said sincerely.

“So,” he said. “You feel like lunch? I figure I owe you a meal.”

Hood could cook.

“Oh my god,” he said around a mouthful of soup. “This is so good. I’m gonna die again. Somehow.”

Hood grinned, looking pleased with himself, and Danny counted that as a win too.

“You sure it’s safe for me to be drinking your blood? You won’t run out of ecto now, will you?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Unlike you, I’m a healthy ghost; I produce my own ecto naturally. You, though, you’re running on fumes. I’m surprised you’re still standing, really.”

“I’m fine,” he said darkly.

Danny snorted. “Okay, big fella, whatever you say. Hey, you want my phone number? Um, so you can call me if it, uh—if you become un-fine?”

“I already have it.”

“Oh. Right. Crime boss. Got it. You spy on people.”

Hood said nothing, all mysterious-like.

Danny smiled into his soup.

He waited approximately 0.003 seconds after Red Hood left to text the group chat.

schrodinger’s boy: hey guess what

schrodinger’s boy: new halfa just dropped

Poison Ivy #1 Fan: !!!

in your (fire)walls: details??

in your (fire)walls: what happened

Not a Ghostbuster: There’s a halfa in Gotham?

Poison Ivy #1 Fan: well there won’t be for long. Batman will chase them out for sure

schrodinger’s boy: LMAO

schrodinger’s boy: i think batman tried that already hlkjasfjk

schrodinger’s boy: i mean he can try again but. lol. this guy’s here to stay

Poison Ivy #1 Fan: who is the new halfa????

Danny turned his phone off.

Danny expertly left for work before Jazz came home and lectured him. He knew his friends ran straight to her to tattle. And for information. Not that she had any. So a lecture was inevitable, for being a jackass (“Little shit” Tucker insisted, “There’s a difference.). And also for letting a crime lord into their apartment.

Yeah, she was probably going to get hung up on that.

But Danny was a pro at little brother-ing, so he put on his mandatory blue and white parka and other heavy duty winter gear and headed out. He had a gun strapped to his hip—not that he needed it, but it was policy. The standard issue freeze gun was also a big part of their gang branding.

Tonight was a simple bank robbery. The Bowery Credit Union, over on Amherst. Just past the edges of Hood’s territory actually.

Danny wasn’t particularly worried about Bat interference. Not with the big man himself coming along. And Freeze always came along. He was anal like that. Bit of a micromanager.

But, if you had to work for a Rogue, Danny figured he was the best of the lot. The man was truly only after money. His only neurosis was his absolute denial that his wife was beyond saving.

All the money in the world couldn’t buy a miracle. Not when the science he was looking for didn’t exist; wouldn’t for decades, if not centuries.

So yeah. Mr. Freeze was a decent boss.

And the cold never bothered Danny anyway.

Neither would any Bats, not with a real Rogue here to keep them occupied. No one ever noticed the goons.

Mr. Freeze shot the door frozen solid as soon as they were all inside. “Everybody on the ground!”

People screamed. Danny smiled under his ski mask. He didn’t like to tell his friends this, but. The fear was delicious.

Freeze barked orders and tellers began filling duffel bags. Danny was on crowd control, which meant standing around menacingly with his gun out. Pretty easy gig, to be honest, especially for how well this job would pay out.

And then Bats burst through the windows.

Danny was firing before he could think. Ancients, he was more like his parents with every passing day. Red Robin, Batgirl (the creepy one), and Red Hood spread throughout the bank, with Red Robin taking off to the vaults. Batgirl began systematically beating people to a pulp, and Hood shot at knees and wrists.

Fucking sharpshooter, to pull that off. Lethal hits would be much easier.

And then they locked eyes, and Danny felt Hood’s surprise in his aura. Oh, he recognized him. He had to.

His ghost sense was developing! Danny almost wanted to offer congratulations.

He shot at Hood instead. That seemed to snap the man out of it. That, or the ice coating his left side.

They danced. Hood pulled his shots. Danny took note, and did the same. Seemed like good sportsmanship.

Batgirl took out a lot of people, somehow faster than Hood’s bullets. She had to be a meta, right? It was both her and the Signal? There was no way she was a regular human. People shouldn’t be able to move the way she did.

But eventually someone who was already down inched their hand back to their gun and got a lucky shot in at her back, freezing her solid. Hood returned fired, and soon it was just him and Danny.

Freeze was yelling, or monologuing, or… Danny wasn’t listening. He didn’t think Hood was either.

The man gestured with his gun. Danny nodded, and ran.

Good sportsmanship.

“What the hell was that?!” Tim yelled. Nightwing, Batman, and Robin were here now too, hurriedly working to defrost Cass.

Cass herself had gone silent. But not her usual silent. This was a very purposeful, very pointed silence. She was also staring at Jason, just to make sure he caught onto it.

Cass’s silence was somehow the loudest voice in the room.

Police were clearing out hostages. Taking statements. Surreptitiously watching. This really wasn’t the place to be having this conversation.

Jason tilted his head back. “What?”

“You let that guy go!” Tim said.

“He got away.”

“Like hell!”

Cass stared at him even more aggressively. She still didn’t say anything, just stood there, frozen, knowing.

“Red Hood,” Batman said, and oh, now the big Bat was involved, this was officially a Thing. “Did you let one of the accomplices escape?”

“So what if I did? Is prison actually helping any of these people anyway?” He gestured widely with his gun, and people flinched. “What good are we doing here? How’s this helping my people?”

“We are getting violent criminals off the streets,” Batman growled. “People were shot, Hood. Some could suffer permanent damage from frostbite. Batgirl among them.”

Nightwing worked a bit faster.

“They’ll be fine. We got here in time,” he said. “No one’s seriously hurt. So what if one guy doesn’t go to prison for that?”

“Do you know him?” Batman asked.

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

B glowered. “We will discuss this further back at the Cave.”

“Like hell we will. I’m not going.”

“Hood—”

“No. I’m not gonna show up willingly to rehash useless shit and listen to you lecture me for over an hour. I’m not your Robin, B, I can do what I want.”

“Hood,” Batman said. “You will follow my orders or you won’t work with this team.”

You could have heard a pin drop. The cops and former hostages and cuffed goons were all blatantly listening in now.

“Then I guess I won’t work with this team,” he said.

Dick and Tim immediately began yelling. Cass continued to be loudly silent.

Bruce didn’t say a damn word.

Typical.

Jason huffed. He turned on his heel and walked out of the bank window, stepping on broken glass as he went.

Chapter Text

Valerie’s name flashed across Danny’s phone, trilling loudly. He groaned and swiped at it.

“Why?” he asked.

“Ghost incursion,” Valerie said instantly. She didn’t waste time. “In Star City.”

“Can’t you deal with it?”

“In Star City? How am I supposed to get there?”

“How am I supposed to get there?”

“You can fly.”

“Okay, you can absolutely fly too. You’re just deflecting responsibility.”

“You’re spending too much time with Jazz. And I don’t have unlimited fuel.”

“I don’t have unlimited energy!”

“It’s Star City! Grab some sushi while you’re there! I have class, Danny! You take this one.”

“Ugh. Fine,” he said. “But you owe me.”

“I so don’t. I took the last one, and you wouldn’t even know about this if I weren’t monitoring ghost sightings.”

“You’re the worst. I hate-love you. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

She hung up.

Danny closed his eyes and transformed.

The distance between Gotham and Star City was 2390 miles. Because they were on opposite fucking coasts.

Danny had to stop to eat five different times.

It cost a small fortune. He swore he spent like half his money on food. Well. A fifth of his money. But it felt like half.

Only to arrive in Star City—with its three-hours-ahead time difference—at five in the morning. It was dark. The vigilantes were out still, the cops were circling them with colored lights on all their cars, and Youngblood was glowing.

He seriously came all this way for Youngblood? He was going to kill Val.

He was lucky he could see him. Phantom had lost the ability around age 19 and freaked out, but he had since gotten it back. It took a few seconds each time. He just had to put himself in his most immature mindset.

“Stop ignoring me!” Youngblood stomped his little foot. “You have to play with me!”

“This is not a game,” Red Arrow said. Green Arrow whirled around, looking for whoever his—daughter? Niece? Apprentice?—was talking to. He wouldn’t be able to see or hear the ghost. Green Arrow was definitely an adult.

“I want to play Robin Hood!” Youngblood shouted. Sure enough, he was dressed like a medieval archer. He actually matched the Star City vigilantes pretty well. Including the dangerously real bow.

Ghostly arrows were lodged in several nearby buildings and objects. And one cop’s leg.

The guy couldn’t even see it, or feel it, but it didn’t make the blood and the wound any less real.

“Youngblood!” Phantom called out. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

“I just wanted to play Robin Hood!” the kid yelled. “It’s not fair! They get to, why don’t I? I just wanna play.”

“I know, buddy, I know. But that’s a real bow you’ve got there. You hurt somebody.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“I know. But just because you didn’t mean something doesn’t mean you didn’t do it. So you still need to apologize.”

“No! You’re not my dad! You’re supposed to be my friend!”

“I am! Youngblood, of course I’m your friend, but there are some activities that aren’t safe to play as games. That’s a real bow you got there, bud.”

“They have real bows too!”

“They also have years of experience. And training. This isn’t a game, Youngblood. This is real. Not make believe.”

“No!” He drew back his arrow and shot without looking. An invisible arrow whooshed into a cop car’s tire, deflating it. Cops screamed, pointing their guns around at random.

“Youngblood!” Phantom snapped. “Put the bow down!”

“No! I’m just playing! There’s no rule against playing!”

He lunged and physically wrestled the bow away. Youngblood struggled and tried to shoot.

He succeeded and Danny sucked in a breath.

Red Arrow rushed towards him, Green Arrow following on her heels. Phantom waved them off, but Youngblood screamed.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I—”

Danny grimaced and tried to smile. “It’s okay. I forgive you,” he said. “Just put the bow down, kiddo.”

He dropped it like it was fire.

Phantom closed his eyes and vanished.

“—the being was not able to be seen or heard by myself or any of the police present. Red Arrow could see him.”

“He was, like, ten,” Emiko said. “Green hair and green eyes. Freckles. Buck teeth. He was dressed up like Roy’s old Speedy costume, but in green.”

“Another person was also there,” Oliver continued. “Him I could see. And hear. Looked like a regular kid, but with white hair. Costumed. Had his own symbol and everything.”

“Not a kid,” Emiko cut in. “He was definitely an adult. Like, in his twenties.”

“Still a kid.” Oliver folded his arms.

“Anyway, then, I tried collecting the ghost arrows, but my hands slipped right through them,” Emiko said. “They really were ghost arrows.”

“I still couldn’t see the damn things,” Oliver said. “That was when I called Constantine.”

“Shoulda called me as soon as you realized there was a damn invisible fucking ghost attacking.”

“Language,” Clark said tiredly. “There are kids present.”

Emiko rolled her eyes.

“It’s fascinating that this young man was able to see the assailant when no one else was,” Diana said. “Perhaps he can typically only be seen by his own kind.”

“Or he has vision-related abilities,” Arthur said.

“It could be another factor as well,” Bruce said. “A similar trait they share that we can’t perceive, or haven’t thought of.”

“Or,” Constantine drawled. “It was a being of the Infinite bloody Realms, and could have any powers imaginable, and we’re all buggered.”

“How so?” Diana asked.

“We don’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. And in return, they kindly don’t turn their attention to Earth and incinerate it.”

“Constantine,” Bruce growled.

“It’s true,” he said. “Realms ghosts aren’t like Deadman or Secret or Phantom Girl. They’re extradimensional impressions of consciousness. Some of them were never even alive to begin with. They have no loyalty to humanity at all. Right pissed at us all, in fact. And over-powered fuckers too. The only reason they haven’t destroyed us all is because they’re too busy fighting each other to notice us.”

“Are they actual ghosts, though?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah. Those myths about ghosts? Invisible, intangible, screaming, haunted and vengeful things? Those all come from stories about Realms beings. There’s a lot of ‘em. More people are dead than currently alive, after all.”

“How come we’ve never encountered these beings before?” Bruce asked.

“Because we’ve been damn lucky. And like I said, ghosts are more interested in their own kind than in us. You said there were two of them?”

The Arrows nodded.

“That explains it. The only reason a Realms being would come to our plane is if they were here for one of their own. Only question I’ve got is if they’ve gone back home or are they still kicking around. Portals are finicky things. Hard to find, only open for short bursts, and they’ll pop you out someplace at random.”

“Is there any other way for them to return to their plane?” Bruce asked.

“Well.” Constantine leaned back in his chair. “There’s something you should know.”

AMITY PARK: THE MOST HAUNTED TOWN IN AMERICA
By Lois Lane

Amity Park, Illinois, is a small town in America’s heartland and known widely for its supposed ghost epidemic. For years, this has been considered a hoax used to drive up tourism. But new information from the Justice League has put the situation in a different light.

“Creatures known as ghosts, or ectoplasmic beings, are actually denizens of the Infinite Realms—a dimension that runs parallel to ours,” Catherine Cobert, official United Nations liaison to the Justice League, reports. “Our resident magic expert and occult detective of the Justice League Dark, John Constantine, has confirmed that the ghosts of Amity Park are Infinite Realms beings.”

One might be inclined to wonder why so many are in Amity Park, of all places. After all, most other towns and even large cities have had zero ghost attacks—the recent incident in Star City being a notable outlier.

Amity Park is the headquarters of FentonWorks, Inc., the business of Drs. Madelyn and Jack Fenton. The Drs. Fenton are the world’s premier experts on ectobiology and the Infinite Realms, which they call the Ghost Zone. Seven years ago, they completed construction on a stable, permanent, artificial portal to the Ghost Zone.

“The portal doesn’t work,” Dr. Madelyn Fenton told me. “The ghosts attack Amity because they are targeting us. They’re getting in through natural portals and hunting us down.”

“We are not responsible for the ghost attacks,” Dr. Jack Fenton said. “We’ve been saying this for years. Ghosts are malicious, evil beings. They attack Amity because all the hunters and experts live here. They know we have the power to stop them. They’re lashing out like the cornered animals they are.”

Other Amity Park residents disagree. “We didn’t have any ghost problems at all until after the Fentons built their portal,” Chief of Police Andrew Gilbert said. “We can’t prove anything because no one else understands the science behind it. It’s unconvictable, but we all know. They did this to our town.

“In my opinion, the Fentons are just as culpable as the ghosts.”

Ghost attacks on the town have run the gamut, ranging from giant bunnies digging up the town’s namesake park, to the whole incorporated territory being transported to the Infinite Realms seven years ago. One of the earliest attacks was also the most devastating. A powerful ectoplasmic being known as Pariah Dark, the Ghost King, stole the entire town out of this dimension and held it hostage in his own.

Pariah Dark was eventually defeated by a number of other ghosts who allied themselves against him. They were led by Phantom, Amity Park’s own ghostly vigilante. Like a true vigilante, opinions on Phantom are mixed, and the ghost often finds himself on the wrong side of the law. He is also known for tangling with the Red Huntress, another young hero in Amity Park. Red Huntress is a human outfitted with advanced ghost-hunting tech of unknown origin.

How does an entire town disappear off the map without anyone noticing? I asked the town’s mayor, Vladimir Masters, CEO and majority owner of DALV Co., why outside help wasn’t called in.

“The National Guard couldn’t be reached,” he said. “Regular human aide would have done us no good either way. I tried contacting the Justice League, of course, but they never responded to my distress call.”

“There was never any distress call,” Superman said. “I checked the logs personally. I don’t know how we missed this, but Amity Park never called for help.”

What is the truth? The further I dig, the more complicated the story of Amity Park becomes. In the end, emergency calls through to the Justice League are classified information. Only elected officials and Leaguers themselves have access to those records. Essentially, it’s Superman’s word against that of Mayor Masters. But the truth never rests, and neither do I. I submitted a Freedom of Information Act request to…

CLICK HERE TO READ FULL ARTICLE

Danny’s phone was already buzzing. He swiped at it with lightning speed. “Hello? I’ve read the article.”

“Holy shit!” Tucker yelled. Danny pulled the phone back from his ear.

“Danny, do you know what this means?” Sam asked. “It was Lois Lane, oh my God, it was Lois fucking Lane, the woman who revealed aliens were real and named Superman and exposed Lex Luthor and tanked his presidency and—”

“Danny, Lois Lane knows who I am!” Val shrieked. Val was not immune to Lois Lane fangirling. “She wrote about me in the Daily Planet! That shit’s international, Danny, do you know how—”

“Dude, she talked about the rumors of you being dead!” Tucker said.

“Tuck, man, I think everyone knows I’m dead. My name is Phantom and I’m a ghost.”

“No, I mean, about you being faded or whatever. ‘Cuz you haven’t been seen in two years. Everyone’s gonna think your parents killed you.”

“Tucker!” Sam yelled.

“What? She kinda implied it!”

“She so did not!” Val said. “She said Phantom was missing in action. Like a soldier or something.”

“Damn. All I did was move to Gotham. That makes it sound like I got shot.”

“You did get shot. Repeatedly,” Sam said dryly. “And literally that’s what everyone here thinks. It’s weird, Danny. Heroes don’t just disappear for good reasons. They’re always dead.”

“Except for me! I beat the odds.”

“Danny, my man, I get where you’re coming from, but you are very much also dead. Like yes, congrats on retiring, but you did die. I was there and everything,” Tucker said.

“All my friends are so mean to me,” he whined. “I can’t have one win?”

“No.”

“How’s your arrow wound doing?” Sam asked.

He sighed. “Healed. Achy when I move, itchy when I don’t.”

“Doesn’t sound healed,” Val said.

“Mean! Let me have nice things!”

“Your ‘nice things’ are just denial.”

“Okay, Jazz.”

“I’m telling her you said that.”

“No!”

Chapter Text

Jason sat down at the little kitchen table in Harley and Ivy’s house. A mug of herbal tea steamed in his hands. The kitchen was overflowing with potted plants, and he suspected the majority were herbal or edible at the very least, if not outright medicinal.

And only harvested in the most humane of ways. If it were possible to be an outright carnivore, Ivy would be. Unfortunately, she was at least mostly human.

“So,” Dr. Isley said. Dr. Isley, respected ecologist and biologist, now; not Poison Ivy, the ecoterrorist villainess.

“Give it to me straight, doc,” he said. “No beatin’ around the bush. Lay it on me.”

“You’re not a vampire.”

“How do you know?”

“No skin or other abnormal reaction to garlic, or sunlight. You’re no more nocturnal than any other Bat—” she smiled “—and you didn’t show any craving to any other regular human blood, of any type. You also displayed no health benefits from ingesting it.”

“So what do you know?”

“The fangs do appear to be permanent. The mutation had to have been triggered by some external stimulus. Likely environmental. You said you were on patrol?”

“Yeah. Felt pulled towards the guy, then. Like a magnet.”

“And you instinctively knew where to go?”

“Yeah.”

Dr. Isley nodded, like that made sense. “I believe it was all related. Likely that individual, whoever they are, either was or was carrying the catalyzing agent. I would need to meet them in order to draw more conclusions, or course, but I have been able to analyze your data. Your resting heart rate is 15 BPM, compared to 40 BPM a month ago. Your central blood pressure was inversely affected, of course, while peripheral blood pressure had a minimal change. Your oximetry is at 76%, but you show no ill effects, even on the treadmill. Which makes no sense. For humans, anyway. I no longer believe you count.”

“Wow, you really didn’t hold back, did you? Damn,” he said. “Okay. Not human. So what the fuck am I?”

“I don’t know,” she said. She took a sip of her tea.

Martian Manhunter touched down in Amity Park. Phones were already out and recording long before he landed. He had flown slow. The local news was there, too.

As was the Red Huntress.

“Red Huntress,” the Martian greeted genially. “I’ve come to extend an invitation to you to join the Justice League. This would be on a probationary basis, of course, for two—”

“I’m not interested,” she said. People murmured. Val stalked over to the newscasters and grabbed a microphone. “In fact, I have something to say. Screw the Justice League. Screw the Justice League so much. Where were you when the town was sucked into the Ghost Zone? Where were you when Pariah Dark, the Endless Tyrant, took over? Where were you when Vortex nearly killed us all? When Nocturn nearly killed us all? When Undergrowth nearly killed us all? Where were you?

“For years, it’s just been me and Phantom. And now it’s just me! You’re too late! The GIW has been locking up ghosts and experimenting on them, the Fentons have been locking up ghosts and experimenting on them, and where have you been? And now, now that Lois Lane has said something, now you suddenly care? Because the world knows about Amity Park finally? Screw you. Screw you!

“I’ve done just fine protecting this town all on my own and I’ll continue to do it. I’m the hero of Amity Park. Me. So thanks, but no thanks, and please don’t come back.”

People cheered.

The video was picked up by regional news, national, the Daily Planet.

It went viral.

The Justice League launched a formal investigation into the Red Huntress’s claims. Within three days, the Dr. Fentons were dragged out of their house in cuffs and the GIW was systematically shut down, every base at once in a massive sting.  Ghosts poured out of opened cages and flew free.

Danny Fenton pounded on the door to a penthouse in the heart of Crime Alley. It was flung open immediately. The Red Hood, sans helmet, stared down at him.

“How did you find this place?” he asked.

“Not important. Do you wanna drink some of my blood?”

Hood hesitated. “I want you to answer my question.”

“Your whole haunt is soaked in your aura. It’s like a fingerprint, or a voice. And this is the center of it, literally the seat of your power. Anyway. Blood?”

“Yes.” Hood moved out of the way and pulled Danny in. He kicked the door shut and flipped seven locks into place. He cupped Danny’s face with both hands and leaned in, then hesitated. Readjusted and settled his mouth on his neck instead.

Fangs pierced in. Blood bubbled up, and venom flowed from Hood’s teeth into Danny. Icy cool and exhilarating. Pleasure thrummed through him. He moaned shamelessly. Danny arched up under Hood’s teeth.

God, he didn’t even know his name. He shouldn’t be doing this. It felt wrong, felt scandalous. Also felt a little bit like he was the protagonist in one of Sam’s crappy vampire romance novels that she always denied reading.

Hood’s hand tightened in his hair, tipping him back. He crowded him further against the wall. Danny closed his eyes. His entire face and neck felt hot, and not just from the blood. Hood’s body was thick, bulky muscle against him, wrapped in leather and denim. He smelled like smoke and wind.

Danny wound his arms around Hood and pulled the man closer. He rocked against him, and one of Hood’s hands moved down to his ass. Danny hooked his leg around his hip and grinded. Hood bit down further, drawing out a cry of pain. Blood dripped down his neck, onto the collar of his shirt. Danny breathed out evenly.

“You gonna do something about this, big guy, or are you all talk?” he asked.

Hood raised his head from his throat. His eyes glinted bright green. “Who’s talking?”

“Take me to bed.”

“Forward.”

“You’ve been drinking ectoplasm straight out of my neck. I think we’re past shyness by now.” He hesitated. “Unless, I mean, do you not want—”

“No! No, I want.” And then Hood finally kissed him, with bruising force. Danny loved it. He was soaring high right now. Life had never been better, not since the portal. His people were free, his city was safe, his obsession fulfilled, and he was in the arms of a beautiful man, about to be ravished. He smiled into the kiss and bit at Hood’s lips, just a bit, just as a tease.

Hood picked him up the rest of the way and Danny wrapped his legs around him helpfully. They continued kissing on their way down the hall, stopping only to shed clothing and toss it away. Danny wriggled out of Hood’s grip and out of his pants in the same motion. Hood was already undoing his fly. Danny pushed him back against the bed and the larger man fell, eyes wide.

“Stronger than I look,” he said. He crawled on top of Hood and went back to kissing the life out of him. Well. Kissing the lifeforce right back into him, more like. Hood lapped at this neck whenever he got the chance; little kittenish licks, needy and hungry.

He rolled them over so Danny was underneath him, and Danny allowed it. He had always had a thing for strong people. In all senses of strength. Sam, Valerie, Paulina even. The regrettable crush on Dash before things turned sour.

Danny was man enough to admit that he liked someone tough enough to put him in his place. And the Red Hood, feared crime boss and halfa-in-development, was just his type.

He palmed the man’s cock to get a feel for it. Thick like he was, and long.

Tonight was gonna be a fun night.

Jason pulled out all the stops at breakfast. Pancakes from scratch, real maple syrup, omelets, toast on homemade bread with like ten types of jam available, sausage links, fried tofu patties just in case, hash browns, fresh-chopped fruit. He even used the matching plateware.

He was not nervous. He was going to burst into flames if Danny didn’t like everything, though.

It was… So important. That he like the food Jason made him. It just was.

Inexplicable.

No, you know what? Jason was a good chef, and he was proud of that. There was nothing wrong with wanting a little recognition for hard work.

He was plating everything up when Danny came out of his bedroom, tousled and beaming, wearing only his boxers. Jason’s mouth went dry.

He was beautiful.

Danny smiled even brighter, somehow, when he saw the food. He lit up even brighter when he actually tasted it. Pride warmed Jason’s chest.

“This is amazing, Danny said. “Why do you bother being a crime lord? You could quit your job and be a professional chef.”

“Not really the type of job that one quits.”

Time. “Still. Damn.” He dug into cutting up the pancakes, piling on fruit and whipped cream and syrup. “Mmm. Ancients, this is so good.”

“Ancients?”

“Like. Gods, kinda.” Danny swallowed. Jason tracked the movement. “Beings that embody certain concepts within the Realms. Usually really old, obviously, given the name. Did you read the article by Lois Lane? You know about the Infinite Realms, right?”

“Not familiar with the term, but you talked a bit about some Realms last time.”

“Another name for the Ghost Zone. Ghost Zone is the name my parents made up for it.”

Jason nodded.

“So yeah, some ghosts represent concepts that they’re Obsessed with. Every ghost has an Obsession, but not every ghost literally embodies it, ya know? Like Clockwork literally is Time. Whereas Johnny 13 is just super into his motorcycle.”

“Respectable.”

“Right? Anyway. I actually kinda have a favor to ask.”

“Shoot.” To the half of his kingdom, or however that Bible verse went.

“You have connections to the Justice League, right? Can you put me in contact with them?”

Jason stilled. He set his fork down. “Why?”

Rings of light circled Danny from the waist, rising up and down. His hair turned white and ephemeral, his eyes brilliant green. His ears tapered up into points. Constellations of glowing freckles appeared on his skin—what left was visible, anyway, because he was suddenly clothed in what looked like a black-and-white SCUBA suit with an emblem on the chest.

Sick dread settled in the pit of Jason’s stomach. That was a hero emblem, for sure.

Danny opened his mouth and confirmed it. “Because I’m Phantom. And I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Danny materialized in the zeta beam capsule aboard the Watchtower, and he was not mentally comparing it to Star Trek because he was a cool adult hero who was mature and shit. A professional. Not a space geek living out his greatest fantasy.

He was totally chill and casual walking past the view window, too.

He settled into a chair at the conference table with the seven Founders. The actual for real Founders of the Justice League. These people were the real deal.

Danny schooled himself.

“Phantom. On behalf of the Lantern Corps, welcome to Earth 0. We offer our sincerest apologies for how your people have been treated so far, and for their suffering,” Green Lantern said.

“I am not authorized to accept or reject your apology,” Phantom said. “I am not a leader of my people. Not a politician or a king. I’m just the champion. I fight for them, that’s all.”

“I see. We serve much the same purpose, in relation to Earth,” Superman said. “We’re not politicians either. Most of us, anyway.”

Aquaman gave a nod. Wonder Woman extended her hand, and Phantom clasped it. “It is an honor to meet you, Phantom. I am Princess Diana of Themyscira.”

“Phantom, Keeper of the Veil. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“I will be frank with you. We want sincerely to put this business behind us and start anew. Do you think that is possible?” Wonder Woman asked.

“Yes. The Ghost King is currently indisposed, but there are other leaders that govern smaller regions, and there’s also the Council. If it would bring peace, I could put you in contact with them. I’ll even mediate, if necessary.”

“Thank you. That is most gracious.”

“Of course.” He was totally nailing professionalism and diplomacy and shit. Jazz would be so proud of him. He was going to give her the entire play-by-play when she got off work tonight.

“Is there anything that we should know to expect from your people?” Green Lantern asked.

“I can’t speak about whether they’ll ask for reparations or anything, but as far as manners go, do not ask about a ghost’s death. It’s strictly taboo—” look at him, using vocab words. Take that, Mr. Lancer “—and just not a good idea, trust me.”

“Anything else?”

“Nah, not really. Most of us used to be humans, ya know? Or, well, living people, I mean. There are alien ghosts. Like Kryptonian ghosts. Atlantean ghosts. Amazonian ghosts. If it lives and dies, it can become a ghost. There are even animal ghosts. Lots of ‘em, in fact.”

“What are your cultural mores surrounding violence?” Batman asked.

Ooh, he didn’t know what that word meant. “Um. Normal?”

“I believe what Batman’s trying to ask is if we should expect a brawl to break out,” Aquaman said.

“Oh! Yeah, probably, but don’t participate. Trust me. That’s a ghosts-only event.”

“How exactly do you know Red Hood?” Batman asked.

“We’re fucking. Ghosts love to fight, very social, practically how we hang out with each other, but you have to actually be a ghost for it to—Are you okay?”

The Flash had seemed to choke on air and was now as red as his suit. Superman pounded him on the back.

Green Arrow leaned forward, rapt. “So you and Red Hood?”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s purely physical. I’m not killing people or joining his gang or the Outlaws or anything. Um. Do you guys have any more questions about ghosts?”

Green Lantern was grinning from ear to ear. Only it looked kind of… evil? If that made sense? “I will give you… ten, twelve, thirteen dollars to join the Justice League and stay forever.”

“Um.”

“You don’t have to respond to that,” Superman said quickly. “I apologize for my colleagues’ behavior, Phantom. It is a pleasure to meet a new, young hero such as yourself. Let us know if you ever need any additional support.”

“…Sure. Uh, so like, are we done now, or—”

And that was when everyone in the room’s eyes flashed red.

Chapter Text

Danny cursed mentally.

“Plasmius? Is this you?” he asked. He was already tired of this.

Wonder Woman grinned, eyes glowing maliciously. “However did you know?”

“Why are you doing this? What do you gain here?” he asked.

Flash huffed. “I am not Technus. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

And then the fight began.

Half an hour later, the founders of the Justice League were disoriented, bruised, and missing time. Their shiny new diplomatic contact was also looking worse for wear.

“What happened?” Superman asked.

Phantom smiled wanly. “Nothin’ much. Just a little scuffle with one of my rogues. Sorry about that, by the way.”

“What?” Green Lantern asked.

“Mind control incident. Nothing to worry about! He’s gone now,” Phantom said.

“I’ll be reviewing the security tapes,” Batman said darkly.

Phantom nodded. “’Course.”

“Someone mind-controlled all of us?” the Flash asked. “Again?”

“How often does this happen to you people?”

“Not often,” Batman said shortly.

The Flash made a face that indicated otherwise.

“You fought all of us?” Wonder Woman asked. “You are lucky to be alive. Who aided you?”

“No one,” he said. And this was bad, he knew. He knew.

There was a moment of silence as the implications of that settled in.

“So I think I’ll be going now,” Phantom said. “If that’s alright?”

“Sure,” Green Lantern said. “Um. This way to the zeta beam.”

Bruce was furiously investigating back at the Batcave. Jason had been behaving erratically for almost two weeks now, ever since that thrice-damned video.

The facts:

Red Hood took off mid-patrol with Batgirl. He moved at a high rate of speed with a clear, yet unknown, destination in mind. He ceased responding to calls via comms. He refused to return to the Cave for debrief or to explain his actions when he was finally located. The next day, the video surfaced, showing him attacking an innocent civilian and drinking his blood.

The civilian was identified as Daniel Fenton, a new Gotham transplant with a suspicious amount of assets given his unemployment. He was almost certainly doing work under the table. And with his sister employed as a psychologist at Arkham, that was a huge red flag.

Four days later, Hood let a bank robber working with Freeze get away. He refused, yet again, to explain himself, and this was too far. If he wasn’t going to work cooperatively with them, then he was only a liability or worse. There was no room for a loose cannon here. Batman told him as much. Hood still refused to explain. And that was that.

The goon in question had been masked. Unidentifiable. No one else in Freeze’s gang was talking, either. Most had made bail or escaped or been released by crooked cops by now, as well.

The next day, the ghost incursion in Star City. Phantom, thought deceased, was present. The debrief with Constantine had revealed a massive systemic problem right under their noses, unnoticed for over seven years. Clark had run to Lois about it, and Lois had told the world.

Then their failed recruitment of the Red Huntress. The investigation that resulted from her claims. The even bigger problems that uncovered. The mass arrests of the Fentons and GIW agents, freeing their hostages and shutting down the labs.

And then the next day, Red Hood putting Phantom himself in contact with the Justice League. Phantom, hero to his people, offering a diplomatic connection while at the same time saying his relationship to the Red Hood was purely carnal in nature. One of his rogues showing up to mind control the entire roster of Founders, fight him, and then leave, with motives unknown.

Phantom was capable of defeating the Founders singlehandedly.

Phantom was a Realms being and therefore capable of mind control, or overshadowing.

Phantom had a suspicious and sudden connection to the Red Hood, which seemed to be beneficial to only one of them.

Red Hood—Jason, Bruce’s son—had been behaving erratically, distancing himself, mutating, and seemingly compelled by unknown forces.

Red Hood had died previously and that might appeal to ghosts when considering potential victims.

A theory was taking shape and Bruce didn’t like it.

Hood changed into workout gear and his domino and headed out to the ring. Everyone knew this was the Red Hood’s gym. Seeing him out in the ring during normal business hours would surprise no one.

Lee was walking some goons through take downs and other forms. Hood stood outside the ropes and watched for a bit. His goons were good. Better than the average hench. Which wasn’t saying much, but still, Hood took pride in it.

His people weren’t totally helpless when they lost their guns. Lots of crews couldn’t say the same. Red Hood gang members were capable of defending their territory without any fire—without drawing police or Bats to their location. Which was a damn good thing whenever Hood was on the outs with the Bats.

Like now.

He watched Pat and Gil tussel a bit, going on for just a few minutes before Gil got the upper hand and Pat tapped out. Hood hoisted himself up over the ropes and into the ring.

“My turn,” he said. He gestured to Pat. “Up.”

He let Pat attack first.

“Keep your feet planted; a real fight ain’t a show,” he called out. “Centers your balance. Remember to use your legs! You got more than two limbs. Your body is your weapon; act like it. Use my size against me. You’re small enough you should be fightin’ like a Robin. Move fast, in and out, quick strikes—”

Aaaand Pat was down.

Jason repressed a sigh.

“Gil, you’re up. You better last longer than two minutes this time. I’m paying Lee to coach you all for a goddamn reason.”

Han clapped Pat on the shoulder consolingly. More goons were starting to fill out the crowd around the ring. They liked fighting the Hood; took some pride in it. He should really come by more often. Lee could only teach them so much, after all.

“Whooo! Go Gil!”

“Yeah, kick his ass!”

“I have such a loyal crew,” Hood said wryly. Mickey outright laughed.

Hood drew the fight out again, calling tips the whole time. Gil managed to last two minutes fifteen seconds before a bad turn left him exposed and Hood had to go in for the takedown. He basically tripped over his own feet. The crew took him back in in good humor, calling out pot shots at Hood as they did.

“Lee! You’re up,” Hood called out. His crew cheered, ready for a fight.

Danny stepped into the gym. Hood spotted him out of the corner of his eye. The ghost smiled. Waved. Came over.

“Can I have a turn?” he asked.

“After this,” Hood said gruffly. Excitement thrilled through his chest. Without access to the Batcave, he hadn’t had a real spar in days. He couldn’t afford to get rusty.

He took Lee down in thirteen seconds and the crew went quiet.

Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. He usually went real easy on ‘em, stayed in teaching mode, let them lead the fight. Taking down their instructor in the blink of an eye didn’t exactly build camaraderie. But. He was really excited to fight Danny.

“Let’s go,” he said. Danny grinned ferociously, eyes flashing green. Hood felt his own eyes mirror the action under his domino lenses.

Danny struck like lightning. He fought like a viper. Hood had faced metas before, had faced Amazons and Kryptonians while running with the Outlaws, had fought Cass on multiple occasions, and was prepared for a similar level of challenge. Danny had no technical skill, relied too heavily on his powers. Once Hood had those same powers…

But he didn’t. Not yet.

The fight was over fast.

“Again,” Hood said.

“Your funeral,” Danny said.

“Been there, done that. Wasn’t much to write home about.”

Danny laughed. He swung a punch at Hood’s chest that flung him through the air and sent him sailing back into the ropes. Hood leapt back to his feet and charged like a bull, putting his full weight into knocking Danny down. Danny braced with one foot behind him and tanked the hit. He grabbed Hood by the shoulders and flipped him, kneeling quickly with a knee on his chest.

Hood tapped out.

“We go again.”

Danny just grinned.

They fought.

For five more rounds. Before Hood was sweaty and panting, smiling wide the whole time. His crew was murmuring to each other and watching, rapt. Danny held out a hand to help Hood off the floor and he took it, hauling himself up.

He slapped a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Listen up!”

His crew quieted.

“This here is Danny. You may recognize him from a certain video,” he said. “He’s one of Freeze’s and he is off-limits. We clear?”

“Yes Boss!”

Danny leaned in to whisper in Hood’s ear. “As fun as this is, how about we go back to your place, hm? There’s some things I wanna do in private.”

Jason’s jaw clenched and he was sure that he was blushing.

God damn it.

Fangs bit into flesh, skin piercing open and blood gushing out. Jason licked at Danny’s throat needily. He felt like he was burning up. Like there was fire trapped just underneath his skin.

Danny’s blood was cool as ice. Refreshing like a blast of cool air. An oasis to Jason’s desert.

He was cheesy as fuck, god damn. But Danny made it all feel true.

“Mm, you’re hot,” Danny said. Jason huffed against his neck.

“You aren’t too bad yourself, ice king.”

“Not the king.”

“Sure.”

“No. You’re like, really hot,” Danny pulled back. Blood pulsed from the wound in his neck. “Like, actually burning.”

“What?”

“I think you’re coming into your core.”

“My what now?”

“Your core?” Danny said. “Oh. Did I not explain cores?”

“No. No, you didn’t.”

Danny cupped his cheek and his touch was a balm. Cool like snow. And Jason was fever-hot.

“Cores are a ghost’s only organ. It functions a lot like a liver, filtering toxins. But also producing ectoplasm. Except yours wasn’t doing that. Halfas are different, though, we develop our cores later. Mine took a few days. Yours probably will too. Maybe longer, with the ecto starvation.”

“Maybe less if I feed?”

“Maybe less if you feed.”

Jason dove back in.

The next few days passed in a blur. Jason was burning up, hotter than he had ever been, skin scalding to the touch. He stripped down naked and stayed that way. Took cold showers periodically. Was constantly drinking something fresh from the fridge. Was constantly drinking from Danny.

It was heaven.

On day three, he felt it. Something settled deep in his chest.

“You’re ready,” Danny said.

“Ready for what?” Jason asked.

“To transform.”

Danny demonstrated, switching between both forms in a flash of light. Phantom floated before him.

“Okay. Okay. How do I do that?”

“Um. I don’t know? Just kinda.” He transformed back. Transformed again.

Jason pursed his lips. “That’s not helpful.”

“Um. Reach from your core?”

“And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

“Look, man, I’ve never had to teach this before, okay? I am doing my best.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a prick,” he said. “Alright. Uhh, here goes nothing.” He blew out a breath.

Closed his eyes. Centered himself. Settled into the breathing patterns he had learned in the All Caste.

And pulled.

Rings of light circled him. They shot up and down, weaving transformation in their path. He was wrapped in white and green, the shortsleeve Red Hood uniform inverted in color. Flames crackled above his head, and he saw blue light being cast. The few visible scars on his skin rippled with contained red fire. Green ooze dripped from his chest in the shape of a Y, in the shape of a Bat with outstretched wings. It glowed.

Jason panicked. He transformed back.

“What the hell? What was that green stuff?!”

“Uh, ectoplasm? What’d you think it was?”

Lazarus Water.

“…I don’t know,” he said. “Should I be bleeding that stuff? Doesn’t it need to, ya know, stay inside me?”

“Oh! You aren’t actually bleeding. That’s an illusion. All the ectoplasm will stay with you, don’t worry.” He waggled his eyebrows. “There’s no ecto-sucking vampires around other than you.”

He laughed. “Okay. Okay, I trust you.”

Danny smiled like the sun.

Jason just felt warm.

Chapter Text

Jason took a zeta to Star City and broke into Roy’s apartment. He started cooking immediately. Banh xeo. Lian would appreciate it.

Roy was a serviceable cook at best. The best dad a kid could ask for, don’t get him wrong, but. His best dish was box macaroni with frozen dino nuggets.

Roy and Lian got home from school around three.

“Jayjay!” Lian squealed and ran up to him. He swung her around in a hug.

“Hey, pumpkin. How was school?” he asked.

“It was great! We have caterpillars! They’re gonna turn into butterflies!” she said. “And we’re reading Charlotte’s Web! It’s about this pig and a spider and—”

Lian babbled on about her day at school and her recent exploits. Something in Jason’s chest settled.

All was normal.

Jason plated up the food and they ate, sitting at the small kitchen table. Roy talked about his latest jobs, about how his siblings were doing, about Ollie and Dinah’s latest drama.

Jason didn’t talk about much at all. At least, not until, Lian was happily coloring in the living room, watching TV and humming.

“What’s on your mind, Jaybird?” Roy asked.

Jason fiddled with the band around his wrist. Roy was doing the dishes.

“So I might not be human anymore,” he finally said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“I saw that video,” Roy said.

“So it turns out I never came fully back from the dead after all,” he said.

“What’s that mean?”

“You know those Infinite Realms beings that are all over the news? Turns out I’m one of them. Something called a halfa. Half dead, half alive.”

“What, like Schrodinger’s cat? You know that was a thought experiment meant to prove it was impossible, right?”

“You fuckin’ nerd. Anyway yeah, like Schrodinger’s cat but real. So I can, like, switch between forms? And I have fangs?”

“Yeah, that tracks. Always knew all you Bats were vampires deep down.”

“Fuck off, Harper.”

“Make me.”

“Anyway,” he said. “So I’ve been needing to drink ectoplasm for my stupid health or whatever, but it’s been helping. A lot.”

“That’s great, Jaybird,” Roy said sincerely. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Have you told anyone else yet?”

“No. Of course not,” he said. “How do you just say ‘hey, I’m not human anymore’?”

“You just did. Right now. Pretty easily.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “You know how Bruce is. He’s been on my case lately about keeping secrets. Like I need to tell him everything. Kicked me off the team over it even.”

“Shit, really? I’ll kick his ass.”

“Don’t bother. He isn’t worth it.”

Roy huffed. “Well. He’s your dad. If you ever change your mind…”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Danny was drafting at the kitchen table. The Fenton portal was now the center of an active crime scene, but obviously he and so many others needed passage from Earth to the Realms. Especially with them trying to open up diplomatic relations.

So he was drawing up his own blueprints for a portal. One with a working ecto filter and a switch on the outside only. Groundbreaking, he knew.

He was gonna need parts. Some he could buy. Some were too rare and expensive, though. His parents had had grant funding, but Danny had a feeling no one would be tripping over themselves to give him the same. Something about his parents being dragged out of their lab in handcuffs on national television just didn’t seem to inspire confidence with funders, especially when the ask would be coming from their own shady son, wanting to continue their research.

Not that Danny’s take on ectoscience was anything at all like his parents. But he could just see the headlines now. Even in Amity, everyone had thought he agreed wholeheartedly with his parents. Their shame was his shame. Inescapable.

So, that left theft.

Wayne Enterprises and LexCorp were the main tech companies in Gotham. Either or both would have the harder-to-source parts that he needed.

He started drawing up heist plans, in addition to his blueprints. Jazz wouldn’t recognize them out of the stack. She had never been much of an engineer, always gravitating towards the soft sciences instead—much to their parents’ despair.

Danny’s phone lit up and buzzed. He swiped it open to a video call.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” he asked. He chewed on the eraser of his pencil.

“Do you have time to talk? We haven’t all had time in days,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I’m good right now. Got forty-five minutes before I have to get ready for class.”

“Great.”

“Hey, Danny,” Val said.

“Hey, Val,” he said. “I saw your bit on the news! I can’t believe you told off the whole Justice League!”

“Yeah! It felt really good,” she said. “I’m glad I did it.”

“They fucking had it coming,” Sam said darkly.

“I actually—I had a meeting with them,” Danny said. “A few days later? As Phantom?”

“Why,” Sam said flatly.

“Diplomatic relations! They brought down the GIW! I had to say something,” he said. “I told ‘em I could put them in contact with the Council, that’s it. I’m not joining them or anything.”

“Good,” Sam said. “You know how I feel about the Justice League.”

He rolled his eyes, smiling. “Sam, the entire world knows how you feel about the Justice League.”

“They’re a bunch of fascist sock puppets who never do anything to—”

“Listen, we all hate the Justice League, but we don’t have time for a rant right now. My break ends in fifteen minutes,” Tucker said. “Danny. Your parents were arrested.”

“Yep. Sure were.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“How are we feeling about that?” Val asked, clearly exasperated.

“I… don’t know,” he said honestly. “Jazz keeps asking me that too, but I just… I don’t know.”

“You know you’re probably gonna be called to testify, right?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. The DA already got in contact with me.” He twirled his pencil around. “Me and Jazz are being subpoenaed, actually. Got no choice. They want us to talk about the conditions in the lab.”

“Bastards,” Sam bit out.

“You could…” Val started. “Danny. I don’t wanna pressure you or anything. But this could be your chance to talk about your accident.”

“And say what? ‘Yeah, by the way, I died’?”

“Yes,” Val said. “Yes. You could say exactly that. Danny, what happened to you isn’t right. You deserve justice too.”

“…They’re already going to jail,” he said. “The best they can hope for is a plea deal. They don’t—I don’t need to drag their names through the mud just for…”

“Danny,” Tucker said. “You aren’t ‘just.’ Your death matters. What happened to you matters. It’s okay if you wanna… If you want to tell people about that. You don’t have to hide anymore. Not if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I get that. I—I’ll think about it, okay? I’ll think about it.”

Val nodded. “That’s all we’re asking. It’s your decision, Danny. For like the first time in your life, you actually have a choice.”

Tucker cleared his throat. “And now that we’ve got that out of the way,” he said awkwardly. “What’s this about a new halfa?”

“Okay, so! I can’t give you details, because secret identities, not my secret to share, blah blah blah, but! He’s about our age, a little older I think, and built like a fridge, like hot damn. And he fucks like a dream.”

“Danny—”

“Man, what the hell—”

“With everything that’s been going on, you somehow find time to screw the new halfa? Really? Was that seriously a priority for you?” Val asked. “It’s Red Hood, isn’t it?”

“What? Why would you say that?”

She rolled her eyes. “The entire internet saw that video. Everyone in Amity recognized you, Danny, probably a lot of people in Gotham too. And then immediately after, you show up and announce there’s a new halfa? We’re not stupid.”

“So you’re sleeping with the Red Hood,” Sam said.

Danny’s lips thinned, but honestly, he was repressing a smile. “I’m a pretty lucky guy, aren’t I?”

“Oh my God.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“He kills people, Danny!”

“No! Past tense! He killed people, but he hasn’t, in like, a while! He’s an antihero and I respect that.”

“You mean you’re horny for that,” Tucker said.

“I am respectfully horny. In a respectful way.”

“Are you actually dating him?” Sam asked.

“No I am not. But we’re friends! And I like him.”

“Like, like-like him?” she asked. Val rolled her eyes and muttered something.

“Uhhhhh…”

“Danny!”

“He’s hot! Sue me! And he can cook, and he cares, and his haunt is—”

“He’s still legally classified as a domestic terrorist,” Tucker said.

“So is, like, a third of this city, okay?” Danny justified. “Cut me some slack.”

“I suppose he has dated worse people,” Sam said. “Paulina. Dash.”

“I never dated Dash! And I’m not dating Hood.”

“This can only end in disaster. Every other halfa has tried to kill you, Danny. And this one is a professional at it,” Val said.

“Hey! He’s not, like, an assassin. He kills people for free.”

“That’s not better.”

“It kind of is.”

“No, it is not, and I’m telling Jazz.”

“Traitor!”

“See! He admits it! You know you shouldn’t be fucking around with the Hood,” Tucker said.

Danny stuck his tongue out.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton was no stranger to crisis situations. She had lived in a high-stress environment her entire childhood. She had fought ghosts and ecto-reanimated food since she was a kid. She knew jiu jitsu and knew it well. She had been trained in non-violent crisis intervention and de-escalation techniques. She knew how to provide mental first aid.

These weren’t empty certifications, either. She used those skills daily. Kept up her training. Refreshed her skills. Stayed sharp and ready.

So she wasn’t phased when there was a patient uprising at work and she was taken hostage by the angry mob. In fact, Jazz Fenton was the calmest of the staff hostages.

She despaired a bit of her colleagues. It was just unprofessional. Crying and sobbing and the affairs and illegal experiments—listen. She was fully aware that Harley Quinn and the Scarecrow both used to be employed here, and were fired for severe ethical misconduct.

She knew the reputation that Arkham doctors had. The supposed “curse” that was on them.

But that would not be happening to her. No, Jazz Fenton was going to change the system from the inside.

One hostage situation at a time.

“What do you hope to gain from this?” she asked.

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” Scarecrow said, not even looking at her.

“Why? You were a trained psychiatrist, once. You know everything I’m about to say. What do you have to be afraid of?”

“Just shut up.”

“Trying to silence me won’t silence your own conscience. I think you know that.”

“I don’t have a conscience. I’ve been reliably informed.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I think—”

An explosion rocked the asylum. Inmates gestured with guns, moving their hostages. A good handful of guards were helping them.

And yet Danny couldn’t pass the background check.

Jazz walked with her hands up as instructed. There was chaos and shouting, inmates prodding hostages along, people starting or trying to run and getting trampled. Someone stepped on the back of Jazz’s ankle and she fell, tumbling forward into the nurse in front of her. Someone kicked her ribs. She pushed up off the nurse, trying to help the other woman up as well.

Gunfire erupted, a sharp rap-rap-rap bursting through the air. Jazz dove down to the ground again, tackling the nurse down with her. The nurse swore. Elbowed her.

New people were shouting, and someone whistled. Everyone was trying to yell over each other. Jazz risked a glance up behind her and red. Arsenal, Artemis, Starfire, Bizarro, the Red Hood. Blasts of fire and arrows and bullets. An axe swung through the air. Jazz ducked back down and covered her head and neck.

Stay out of the way. Let the heroes do their job. She knew the protocol.

Until someone grabbed her up by the elbow and pressed a gun to her side.

The Riddler.

“This riddle should be fun. Which organ do you have two of, but will soon have to do with one?”

A giant axe went flying through the air, taking the Riddler’s hand off at the wrist. He screamed.

“None of them,” Artemis said flatly. “She will be fine.”

Jazz stripped off her lab coat and began tearing at the end, peeling off strips to use as bandages. “You’re going to be alright,” she told the Riddler. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“You are a kind soul,” Starfire said. Jazz spared her a glance.

“Thank you,” she said, applying a makeshift tourniquet. “All behavior is communication, you know. Defiance is about exerting control when you feel you have none. These people need sympathy and care, not to have their rights stripped away in a prison.”

“This whole place should be torched,” Red Hood said. “No one is getting better here.”

She pursed her lips.

She knew that.

“You ever think about getting a different gig?” Arsenal asked.

“No. I’m going to make a difference here. These people deserve good doctors.”

Arsenal shrugged. “’Course. Just like you deserve to not have your life threatened at work.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I chose this field. And this facility.”

Arsenal backed off, hands up. “Not doubting you. But I think Black Canary would kill me if I didn’t at least ask if you ever considered working for the Justice League?”

“What?”

“As a therapist on retainer at the Watchtower? It’s part of this new push for ethics in heroism.”

Ethics in heroism.

“I…” She swiped her hair back behind her ear. “I might have some experience with that.”

“Really?”

“I’m from Amity Park,” she said. “I… I helped our heroes there.”

Red Hood stopped rounding up inmates and glanced over at her sharply. She could feel the weight of his gaze. She didn’t react.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton knew what she was doing, after all.

Chapter Text

Her interview was conducted with Superman, Batman, and an HR rep.

“So, Dr. Fenton, Arsenal tells me you have experience with ethics in heroism?” Ms. Hofbauer asked dubiously.

“Yes, that’s correct. I provided psychological support and mentoring to the young heroes of Amity Park for two years.”

“Which young heroes?” Ms. Hofbauer asked.

“Phantom and Red Huntress.”

She nodded. “How exactly did you support them?”

“I offered counseling and advice on problem solving and stress management. I was a sounding board for the issues that came up in their heroic and personal lives. I also subbed in as a supportive fighter on occasion.”

“How do you know Phantom?” Batman asked.

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid that’s confidential. I will be respecting Phantom and Red Huntress’s privacy as much as possible here. I’m sure you understand; having a secret identity yourself.”

Batman grunted.

“Did you ever conduct an intake?” Superman asked.

“Of course, many times. I’ve been professionally employed at Arkham since I started grad school—first an intern, and then I was hired on as practicing psychologist once I completed my doctorate. My first intake, though, I designed the questions myself for use with Red Huntress.”

“And are you a licensed psychiatrist as well?” Superman asked.

“No, I can’t prescribe meds. Is there anyone else on staff who can?” she asked.

“Yes. We have ten surgeons on call for emergencies. You could work with them when it comes to prescriptions,” Ms. Hofbauer said.

“Assuming you’re hired,” Batman said.

“Well, Dr. Fenton, it’s been a pleasure talking with you. Do you have any questions for us?” Ms. Hofbauer asked.

“Yes. Are there other psychologists on staff whom I would be working with?” she asked.

“As of today, we have two others hired. Drs. Miller and Westphal. Would you be interested in meeting them?”

“I’d be delighted.”

Ellie slammed the door into the wall. “Danny what the hell!”

Danny shot up from his nap. Jazz sighed.

“You didn’t have to slam the door,” she said. “You’re intangible, Ellie. Now there’s a hole in the wall.”

“Your parents were arrested?!” Ellie shouted as if Jazz hadn’t spoken.

“They’re your parents too,” Danny said.

“I’ve literally never met them, but go off I guess,” she said. “Also! There are ghosts everywhere? Like, just flying around? Have you noticed that, or is it just me?”

“What are you talking about?” Jazz asked.

Ellie shrugged. “There’s ghosts. People are coming through the natural portals. I hear talk that visiting Earth is safe again thanks to our exalted ‘Savior of the Infinite Realms.’” She did air quotes and everything.

Danny would have rolled his eyes, but Ellie already did, so like. Touché.

“You aren’t using natural portals, though, right, Ellie?” Jazz asked.

Ellie rolled her eyes again, because she was very much a teenager. Nineteen still counted. “Of course not, I’m not dumb. Geez.”

“Alright, just making sure,” Jazz said, the same way she always did after asking if they slept or ate or wore a seatbelt. As if that mattered.

She was trying so hard to keep alive people who were already dead.

“Great. More problems for me,” Danny said.

“Who cares! Why didn’t you call me when your parents got arrested? I had to find out from the news!”

“Again, your parents too. Also you don’t have a phone.”

“Ancients, like that’s an excuse. Coulda done a séance. Also I have a name sigil specifically so that I can be summoned.”

“You said that was for emergencies!”

“This is an emergency!”

“It’s not even a big deal!”

“Danny,” Jazz chided. “I’m sorry, Ellie, we should have thought more about how this would impact you. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes!” She threw her hands up. “That’s why I’m here!”

She stomped over to an armchair they had thrifted and flung herself down, immediately slouching. She was practically half out of it.

“I, personally, don’t see what the big deal is.”

Jazz stared at him. “Mom and Dad are facing multiple life sentences. Some people are pushing for the death penalty.”

“That’ll never happen. Vlad won’t let it,” he said confidently.

“Danny, I don’t know if Vlad can get them out of this one.”

“Vlad always gets them out of it.”

“It’s never been this big of a problem before. This is… this is a pretty big deal. The whole world knows what they were doing in that basement.”

“They’ve never hidden that they’re ghost hunters. All of Amity Park already knew. I don’t see how this is different.”

“It’s very simple, Danny: people are massive hypocrites and only care when other people are watching,” Ellie said. “Lois Lane wrote an article, Red Huntress told off the Justice League, and now people feel bad and are pretending to care.”

“That is not what is happening,” Jazz said. “People are fundamentally good, and, when this injustice was brought to light, the community came together to stop it.”

“But nobody ever cared before,” Danny said. “Why do people care now? Why didn’t they just read Ms. Lane’s article and shrug about it? Why did she write it in the first place?”

Jazz frowned. “You understand that what Mom and Dad were doing was wrong, right?”

“Yeah, of course. That’s why I fought them.”

“So you can see that there was an immoral situation happening,” she said. “Other people are starting to see that now too.”

That made no sense.

“But why now?” he asked. “Why not seven years ago? Why couldn’t this have happened when I was fourteen?”

“The world sucks,” Ellie said.

“…I don’t know,” Jazz said. “I’m sorry Danny. Maybe if I had tried harder to get someone’s attention—”

“No. No, Jazz, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the only one who didn’t.”

“So you admit the gene contributors should be behind bars?” Ellie asked.

“Uh,” he said. “Well, that’s a whole other topic. And not my decision. It’s up to the courts.”

“We should talk about what we’re gonna say at the trial,” Jazz said. “We are under oath to tell the truth. But it’s up to you two how much you are comfortable with sharing.”

“Didn’t the subpoena say otherwise?”

“You mean it’s up to Danny,” Ellie said. “I haven’t been called to testify. I don’t legally exist.”

“We have a chance here, to… change that. If you wanted.”

“What?!” Ellie straightened. “You think I could be a person?”

“Ellie, you are already a person. Your legal status has nothing to do with that. But if you wanted to, you could have a legal identity. A social security card. You’d be able to get a job, get an apartment. Get married, if you wanted. You could have a future.”

Ellie gaped.

Like the idea of being her own person, of having a real future, had never even occurred to her. Like she had just planned to be a homeless wanderer until she eventually destabilized. Because she would destabilize. She didn’t even have a phone to call for help. The portal was unusable. The lab was a crime scene.

“Do you have enough ecto dejecto?” Danny asked. “Three spare shots at all times, right?”

“Oh, I’m out,” she said casually. As if that medicine wasn’t the sole catalyst keeping her from turning into a pile of goop.

“Ellie!” Jazz said. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Uh, because I haven’t seen you guys in six months?”

“How long have you been out?” Danny asked. Clones melting. Glass tubes shattering. A quickly-dissolving hand reaching out to him. Pain and sobs and Ellie, only twelve, not even named yet—

She shrugged again. “Like, a month? Maybe a little longer? I dunno.”

Danny stood up and started rearranging his lab equipment at the table.

“I don’t know what you plan to do about it. Not-Mom and Not-Dad were the only ones who could make it, and now they’re in jail.”

“Ellie,” Danny said tightly. “I am a chemist. I know the recipe. I was the one who fixed it in the first place.”

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know that.”

Jazz’s face was carefully schooled. Sympathetic, understanding, but revealing nothing. A very dangerous expression on her. “What was your plan?”

“Die, I guess?”

Danny opened the science mini-fridge they kept for chilled samples. He started pulling out ingredients with shaking hands.

“Without even asking if we could help?”

“I just figured you couldn’t.”

“It’s always worth it to ask for help. No matter what. Even if you’re certain someone can’t help you, just the act of asking can bring you closer.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden though.”

“Your life is not a burden. We’re glad to have you here. We love you, Ellie. You’re a part of our family.”

Danny rinsed off beakers and flasks in the sink. Wouldn’t do to have any contamination. Not for his little sister’s medicine.

One hour later, he had whipped up a fresh batch of ecto-dejecto and Jazz had talked Ellie into crashing on their couch for the near future.

“Mr. Freeze. What’s this about?” Red Hood asked.

“Your boy Danny. Only he’s supposed to be my boy.”

“Is he now?”

“In a strictly professional sense,” he said. “Which is precisely the problem. I don’t want there to be any conflicts of interest.”

“Of course.”

“But I’m starting to have some concerns about where exactly Danny’s loyalties lie,” he said. “I am not a mob boss, Mr. Hood. I don’t have a real gang. When I hire henchmen, it’s for one gig at a time. I understand that your organization has a much more centralized structure.”

“Danny ain’t a fucking mole, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Never thought he was. If you sent a mole, he’d be subtler,” Freeze said. “I called this meeting because I wanted to know if you’d be interested in hiring Danny yourself.”

“And what do you get out of this?”

“Money,” Freeze said. “$15,000 and I tell the kid he works for you now.”

“Are you trying to sell Danny to me?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m negotiating his employment contract.”

“He’s not under fucking contract.”

“Nevertheless,” Freeze said. “I won’t pretend I understand what your relationship is to him, but I hear he’s been lurking around your gym. And he was the only one who got away from the Bats after the Bowery Credit Union job, for which I am grateful. I think this would be doing the both of you a favor.”

“A favor I’m paying $15,000 for.”

He shrugged. “Nothing in the world is free.”

That was fair. And it wasn’t like Jason was strapped for cash. He made so much money selling drugs. Seriously, so much money. It was a bit ridiculous.

However.

“Gonna have to pass,” he said. “I think Danny working for me would make things weird for us. I don’t wanna be his boss, you get me?”

Freeze sighed.

“I also don’t want anything to happen to him, however. Now, Danny’s a capable guy. But I’d like some assurance that he won’t be harmed doing any of your dirty work.”

“I assume the same goes for his little sister?”

His fucking what.

“Of course,” Red Hood said smoothly. “Perhaps we could make a deal to that effect.”

“Nothing would please me more, Mr. Hood.”

Red Hood was straight-up allied with Mr. Freeze now. Acting like it was an official peace treaty and everything. Not that either of them had ever had beef before, each sticking to their own operations. But still.

They were having a party to celebrate and everything.

There were a lot of ice decorations. Extremely out of place in this warehouse that was used for weapons trafficking.

Also, ice cream.

Hood was seated at a back table with full visibility of the event. Some of his most trusted guys were around him, speaking quietly, some of it business, most of it not.

So he had a perfect view of Danny catching sight of him, almost literally brightening, and waving excessively. He trotted on over like he had no reason to be afraid.

“Hood! Hi,” he said. “Oh, this is my little sister, Ellie.”

Coming up behind him was a slightly younger looking girl who otherwise was a damn photocopy of Danny.

“You don’t have a little sister,” Hood said, because he had to.

Danny shrugged. “Not legally, but we decided we’re siblings.”

“You look fucking identical,” Waterson said. Waterson had no concept of privacy.

“We do!” Danny said, not addressing the implied question at all. Which. Hood had to admit, he and his siblings did the same thing all the time when people implied they were Bruce’s secret bastards whom he had “adopted” to save face.

They did all look suspiciously similar to each other, varied ethnicities notwithstanding.

Ellie was glaring at him fiercely.

Great.

“You working for Freeze, too?” Hood asked, very politely.

“Am now,” she said. “I’m gonna be sticking around town for a while.”

“Good. Always nice to have family around.”

“Well, not always,” she said.

“Hm?” Hood asked.

“The asshole who created me is an asshole,” she clarified. “And the gene donors have never been worth meeting.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Hood said. “We should get drunk together.”

Danny leaned in, resting his hip on the table. “Sounds like a plan, but what exactly would you be drinking, big guy?”

Hood twirled his gloved finger over the back of Danny’s hand. “I have someone in mind.”

Ellie made a loud retching sound.  “Gross! Don’t flirt where I have to see it!”

“That was flirting?” Nicholls muttered.

“You wanna find somewhere more private?” Danny asked. “And celebrate our newly-minted peace?”

“Oh,” Nicholls said.

Hood lifted Danny’s hand so that he was just holding it. “Hm, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I can’t just leave my crew,” he said forlornly.

“Not even for me?” he pouted.

“Well,” he said. “Maybe if you convinced me.”

“Convinced you?” he said. “You should be thanking me for the privilege.”

“Mm, should I? What makes you think I even want your blood?”

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a bit late to play like you don’t. I seem to recall you losing your mind the first time you felt my aura.”

Fuck. “It’s a good aura.”

Danny twirled the white lock of his hair. “Have I convinced you yet?”

“Maybe try me one more time.”

Danny smiled. He leaned in and whispered.

Hood didn’t visibly react. He was too well-trained.

He did, however, stand from his seat and circle around the table, wrapping an arm around Danny when he reached him. Some of the goons wolf-whistled, and he couldn’t care less. Not when he had Danny.

Naturally, this was when Ellie threw an ice cream cone at the back of his head. Red Hood whipped around to face the attack. She tilted her chin up proudly, and Danny laughed—a bright, tinkling sound.

Hood hated that he wasn’t even mad.

Chapter Text

Jason thrust into Danny, burying his teeth deeper into his neck as he did. He disengaged his fangs, letting the blood rush up into the wound and spill over. He drank from Danny’s fucking throat, then lapped at the remaining blood. Licked over the punctures and kissed them, once, before piercing in again.

Danny gasped. Jason’s cock pulsed. He pushed in harder, with his cock and with his teeth. Piercing Danny from both dimensions. Swallowing down his very lifeforce.

Iron and citrus. Blood and ectoplasm. A doubly sharp tang.

The most delicious thing that Jason had ever tasted.

He closed his eyes, for just a moment, behind the domino lenses. It was overwhelming. There was so much. He felt like he was drinking life itself.

He was.

He breathed, hips still driving in and out steadily. He reached down between Danny’s legs. He needed to make him feel so good. Danny gave him his life back. Gave him his soul back. And all Jason ever did for him was fuck him.

He felt like a lech. Like a true vampire from the old stories, preying on someone so perfect.

He wanted to drink him in until there was nothing left. Until there was no space between them at all, no differentiation between one and the next. Until Danny was stored, safe, inside Jason’s very bones. He wanted to kiss the life right out of him.

He bit down hard on his savior’s neck. Tried to focus. Stay in the moment.

He had a goddamn job to do.

He pounded into Danny single-mindedly, working his hand in rhythm. Danny arched his back when he found one particular spot, and so Jason devoted his attentions to it. Danny moaned, and Jason kissed the sound from his lips.

He was sweeter than the blood.

“Danny…” he said, pistoning his hips. “Danny, Danny, Danny.”

“I’m here,” he said. “I’m right here, boss. Not going anywhere.”

“I…” He bit his lip.

He wanted to say so many regrettable things. They were just fuck buddies. He had to remember that.

“Drink me,” Danny said. “Drink me some more, big guy. You still need it. C’mon.”

He bent his head down and sucked. Metal bloomed on his tongue. It felt like it seeped through the very core of him, purifying him down to his soul.

This was fucking medical.

Danny was resetting his soul, washing away the rancid Lazarus water, reforming him into the halfa he was always meant to be.

And then Danny came.

Beautiful. Glowing. Pleasure exploding all around him. Blinding, the world slipping away.

His dream had come true. He and Danny were intertwined. More than just their bodies. More than just their blood. Their minds were mixing, shifting, twirling together.

Jason saw a childhood in Amity Park. He saw the expectations of such a bright future. He saw a lab accident and the most brilliant flash of light, the light that killed Danny. He saw fight after fight, injuries mounting, grades slipping, sleep missed. He saw the pair of siblings slipping away to Metropolis and then to Gotham. He saw a small apartment and a sense of safety for the first time in their life.

He saw everything.

Someone gasped.

Jason felt like he was floating.

“…Jason. Jason, come back to me.”

“Mm.”

“No, c’mon, I need you. Please.”

He blinked his eyes open and the haze retreated. Danny was above him now, tears slipping down his face.

“I’m here,” Jason said. “I’m here. Did you—”

He nodded. “I saw everything. I’m… We need to go see Frostbite.”

Jason knew who Frostbite was without even thinking about it. “Okay,” he agreed. “How?”

“I have schematics for a portal,” he said. “But I’m missing some parts. I was…” He laughed. “I was planning on robbing Wayne Enterprises.”

Jason kissed his forehead. “We’ll do it together.”

Freaking Batman and Robin crashed their heist date.

Hood honestly didn’t know what he had expected.

“Hood,” Batman said. He sounded tired. “Why.”

“Why what,” he said, just to be petty.

“Why are you robbing Wayne Enterprises?” Robin asked, arms folded.

“Think that one’s pretty obvious.” He held up his newly-pilfered quantum splicer. “I needed some tech.”

Batman cast a glance at Phantom beside him. “There are easier ways you could have gotten it. Legal ways,” he said. “Phantom, if this is related to your official duties, you could have requisitioned the Justice League.”

“Seriously?” he asked. Robin nodded. “Well, nobody told me that.”

Batman didn’t sigh. He looked like he really wanted to though. Hood considered himself an expert on that particular look.

“Put the items back,” he said. “You can pick them up from the Watchtower a week from now.”

“No can do, Batman,” Hood said. “We need this shit tonight. We’re on a bit of a time crunch.”

“What time crunch?”

“We’re building a ghost portal,” Phantom said. “Since the only stable one is currently in a crime scene, I need a new one in order to move back and forth between here and the Infinite Realms. So does every other ghost. It’s the only safe way to travel.”

“…Fine,” he conceded. “You can meet me on the Watchtower tomorrow at 1100 hours. But we’re handling this legally.”

Hood looked to Phantom, who shrugged and nodded. “That’ll work.”

Building the portal took all day and all night. By the time they were done, Jason wanted nothing more than to crash into bed, preferably with Danny.

But there was no rest for the wicked, and so into the Realms they went.

The Far Frozen was, despite the name, actually pretty close. The benefits of having a portal that could open anywhere, he guessed. It was, however, extremely frozen.

Jason had had to transform into his ghost form before they entered the portal. It was the only thing keeping him from dying a second time, he mused. The benefits of a fire core.

Though he did contemplate strangling Danny for making him, a fire ghost, traipse into the Far Frozen without so much as a coat.

The Far Frozen was a mix of modern and anachronistic. Everything was made of ice and snow, and the buildings tended towards round, organic shapes. Everything was also way bigger than human buildings and infrastructure. The yetis they passed on their way varied from eight to twelve feet tall.

Finally, they found the government center and waited with their ticket to speak to the secretary. She paled when she saw Danny.

They were quickly ushered into Frostbite’s office.

“Great One!” A giant yeti with an ice-prosthetic arm boomed. “What brings you to my haunt today?”

“So,” Danny said. “Um. This is Jason. He was low on ecto so I’ve been letting him drink some of mine—”

Frostbite’s face darkened. Already a bad sign.

“—And, anyway, two days ago something happened? We uh, saw each other’s pasts or something? It was weird.”

“Did this happen after consuming more of the Great One’s ectoplasm?” Frostbite asked.

“While,” Jason corrected.

“…I believe I know what happened. However—” Danny groaned. “Just to be certain, we should run some scans. If you two would follow me?”

An hour later, they were back in Frostbite’s office with the old yeti pouring over printouts.

“This is quite fascinating,” he said, and Jason grimaced. Never good to hear a doctor say that. “I don’t the Infinite Realms has ever had a case of such a thing happening on accident.”

“On accident? So it does happen? It’s normal?” Danny asked.

“Quite so. This is a very common occurrence, and yet a happy one! You two have bonded your souls to one another.”

“What?” Danny said. “Frostbite, that doesn’t sound good.”

Jason flushed. Figures. It fucking figures this would happen to him. He should have turned Danny away the second he showed up in his gym. Now the literal sanctified hero of the Infinite Realms was soulbonded to a monster. And it was all his fault.

He knew. He fucking knew. He’d had a feeling deep in his gut that what they were doing was wrong, that he was taking advantage, and he had ignored it.

Now Danny was paying the price.

The man had just wanted to help him.

“You do not desire to be wed?” Frostbite asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“Wed?! Are you saying we’re married?”

“Quite so,” Frostbite said.

“Is there a procedure for divorce?” Jason asked. “Or annulment?”

Danny shot him a sharp look.

“No. I’m afraid binding one’s soul to another is a permanent procedure.”

“So we’re just ghost-married forever now? How did this even happen?” Danny asked.

“While you were correct in that young Jason’s core was starved for ectoplasm, feeding him from your own core should have been used as an emergency measure only. The ectoplasm you produce contains your personal ectosignature. When Jason consumed it, he absorbed it and his own ectoplasm binded to it, creating a hybrid signature between the two of you. Your souls now beat in rhythm to this new, combined signature.”

“Well what was I supposed to do? Just let Jason starve?”

“On the contrary! Had you simply visited the Infinite Realms, you could have supplied yourself with clean, unbonded ectoplasm that would not have caused this effect.”

Jason glared venomously at Danny. “Oh really,” he said flatly.

“The portal was down,” he defended himself.

“Not until recently. And I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of slipping into a crime scene undetected if there’s a need for it.”

“Well,” Danny said. “I didn’t know?”

“Clearly.”

This was on Jason. He should have figured Danny didn’t know shit and was just talking out of his ass. Just because he knew the very basics of his own biology did not make him a doctor.

They should have traveled here on day one.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry,” Danny said. “I never meant to do this to you, to like… trap you. I thought I knew enough to help you, but I clearly did more harm than good. I’m sorry.”

Jason winced. “No,” he said. “This is on me. I’m the one who’s sorry. You deserve… better, and now you can never get married for real, to someone you actually want, all because you were trying to save my life. You’re a decent guy, Danny. I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick.”

Danny bit his lip hesitantly. Jason wanted to suck on it. He felt regret-sorrow-shame coming through from their bond. He took a chance and took one of Danny’s hands.

Danny stared at him. “I don’t regret it. Not if you don’t.”

“…Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He nodded. “I didn’t even know ghost soul-marriage was a thing. I certainly wasn’t planning on getting hitched with anyone. But it did happen, and it happened with you, and there’s no one else I would rather be soulbonded to. I’m glad it was you.”

Jason felt light. Dangerously hopeful. “I’m glad it was you, too.”

When they stepped back out of the portal, Jazz was there, waiting, arms crossed.

“Heeeeey Jazz,” Danny said. He gave his best innocent smile.

“Danny,” she said evenly. “Would you care to explain what is going on here?”

“So I built a portal.”

“I see that.”

“And I took Ja—the Red Hood to the Far Frozen. For a medical check-up.”

“Mhmm. Hello, Mr. Hood.” She held out a hand. Jason shook it, stupefied.

He was still in ghost form, which included a helmet for him, thank God.

“Hi,” Jason said.

“Why don’t we all sit down and chat? I think we have some things to discuss.”

Jazz was already walking away to the kitchen table. Danny and Jason shared a look, then followed. What else could they do?

“So, Mr. Hood, am I correct in assuming you’re a newly discovered halfa?” Jazz asked.

“…Just ‘Hood’ is fine,” Jason said. “And yes.”

“And I understand you’ve been drinking my little brother’s blood?” she asked. It was not a question.

“Yes.”

“Danny explained to me that this was a medical procedure necessary to save your soul from complete cessation. So what was this trip to the Far Frozen about?”

“There were complications,” Danny said quickly. “I fucked up.”

“No, I did. I shoulda known it was too good to be true—”

“I didn’t realize that—Okay, so there are certain aspects of ghost biology that I might not be 100% informed about—”

“Boys,” Jazz cut in crisply. “What. Happened.”

“We’re soul-married,” Danny said. “Bonded. Whatever. From all the blood drinking.”

Jazz was very still for a moment.

“Are you going to reverse it?”

“That’s not possible,” Danny said. “Permanent alteration to both of our souls, but we’re rolling with it.”

“I see,” she said. “So as my new brother-in-law, Mr. Hood, do I get the pleasure of knowing your name?”

“Uh.” Fuck. Normally this would require Batman’s permission. Authorization had to come down from on high for every identity reveal.

Then again, Jason was apparently no longer one of the Bats. Fuck Batman.

“Yeah, I’m Jason Todd,” he said. “I was Bruce Wayne’s adopted son until I died.”

“Bruce Wayne who owns Wayne Enterprises?” Jazz asked.

“Technically, Tim is the majority shareholder now, but yeah, that’s the guy.”

“And does your father know that you’re the Red Hood?”

“Yes. He knows.”

“Does he know that you’re a halfa?”

“No,” he said. “Only my best friend knows. I’d… appreciate it, if you exercised discretion.”

“Of course,” she said smoothly, and Jason believed her. “Just like I’m sure I can count on you to be discreet regarding Danny’s various secrets.”

He nodded. “I’m good at secret identities. Been doing this a long time.”

“My research said the Red Hood has only been active for four years.”

“…I was the second Robin before that. Before I died.”

“My condolences.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, Jason, I’d like to have a word with Danny alone.”

“It was so an accident!” Danny burst out. “Anyone could have done this!”

“Oh really? Anyone could have assumed there would be no long-term consequences to swapping bodily fluids with a stranger?”

“Frostbite told me I could!”

“As an emergency procedure! For first aid, to keep someone alive! You should’ve taken Jason to the Far Frozen right after the first feed, Danny. If I’d had any idea you were still doing this, I would’ve—”

Jason made himself scarce.

Chapter Text

Danny was sitting in a coffee shop, studying, minding his business, when easily a dozen goons flooded in. Followed by the Joker himself.

He started scarfing down his scone faster. He would not get to finish it after.

“Hello, hello, everyone! Boys, lock the place down, would you? Make sure no one sneaks out the back.”

The goons started doing as they were told. Danny chewed faster. He gulped down some coffee.

Other civilians were cowering and crying and reaching for phones, which were being rounded up and stuffed into a bag. Joker was monologuing. Blah blah murder blah blah bad jokes blah blah blah.

He even fired off a shot at the ceiling, laughed when people jumped, and then waved the little white “bang!” flag around.

Danny wiped his mouth and stood up. “Alright, let’s roll.”

He put his fists up.

Joker laughed. “You’re gonna fight me? You, alone? You’re not even a Bat.”

“How do you know that? I could be a Bat. That’s not the point. Fighting you. Fighting you is the point.”

Joker smiled. He pulled out a new gun and aimed straight at Danny’s head. “Why shouldn’t I kill you right here and now?”

“Because that’s boring,” Danny said, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that? Don’t you wanna fight me?”

“No! I wanna kill you!” He fired, and Danny let the bullet phase through him.

He grinned, teeth sharp. “You missed.”

Joker’s eyes widened with delight.

Danny didn’t give him any more time. He lunged. One punch sent the Joker sprawling into the brick wall of the café. Danny grabbed him by the suit lapels and dragged him up to his feet. One more punch, two, three.

Bats burst into the café.

Danny was pulled off of the Joker by several Bats.

One of them was Red Hood. “I love you,” he said.

“What?!” Nightwing shrieked.

Danny felt the truth of Jason’s love pulse through their bond. It was warm. It was beautiful.

“I love you too,” he said on instinct. On automatic, as natural as anything.

“What?!” Nightwing said again.

“Wanna get outta here?” Hood asked.

“Sure. Your place?”

“What?!” Nightwing asked.

“’Course.”

“He knows where you live? I don’t even know where you live,” Nightwing said.

“And you never will,” Hood said. He extended a hand. Danny took it.

They left the café together.

They laid in bed together. Jason propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at Danny, tracing patterns onto his chest.

“Wanna go on a date?” he asked.

“Sure,” he said. He grinned. “We do need to have our first date. You know, now that we’re married.”

Jason pressed a kiss to his lips, pushing up off the bed. “Let’s shower first.”

Jason kept their date simple: dinner and dancing. They went out to a Mexican place in Tricorner, and then to a nightclub in the Diamond District.

Danny was funny. Danny was smart. Danny was beautiful.

Danny was so far out of Jason’s league it wasn’t even funny.

Jason sat down at the table and immediately panicked. They knew each other too well for this, thanks to the mind meld, too well for normal first date chatter and getting-to-know-you questions. Fuck.

It occurred to him, at that exact moment, that he had never actually been on a normal regular date in his life. The closest he had ever come had been a singular undercover op with Blondie last year. They’d made fun of Bruce the whole time, over open comms and with the other Bats chiming in.

Danny dipped a chip into the queso while examining the menu.

“So how’s that court case coming?” Jason blurted. Danny froze. “With your parents?”

Danny set his chip down. Oh no.

For a moment he just stared at him.

Jason’s blood pressure was skyrocketing.

“Jazz and I have been subpoenaed,” Danny said. “We’re being literally forced to testify.”

“…Huh.” He didn’t know what to say. Why didn’t he know what to say?

Jason now had many opinions about Danny’s bastard parents, thanks to everything he had seen, but who knew if Danny shared those opinions? Family was complicated. Parents were complicated. Jason knew all too well how common it was for people to love their abusers. Just because he, as an outsider, was able to recognize and categorize that as criminal neglect didn’t mean Danny saw it in the same light at all.

Even trained vigilantes had their own personal blindspots. Jason’s many siblings could attest to that.

“What are you gonna say?” he asked.

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know! I have no idea what to say! It’s not like I can say the truth!”

“Why not?”

“Because—” He glanced around and leaned in across the table. “The truth is my parents spent every day of my entire life wishing out loud that they had a ghost to butcher down in that lab, and they described exactly what they wanted to do in very graphic detail. The truth is I was the one they were hunting, but it’s not their fault, because they didn’t know. I never gave them a chance to do better because I was too scared. The truth is the conditions in that lab were so completely unsafe that it killed me, and I kept that a secret. Because I was scared of something worse than death if my parents found out. The truth is, I have no idea if those fears were unfounded or not,” he said. “And now I’ll never know.”

Jason reached for his hand across the table. “They weren’t unfounded,” he said. “It’s not unfounded. You weren’t being unreasonable to take them at their word. When someone makes a threat, the safest thing to do is to believe them. Keeping it a secret? That was how you kept yourself safe. So don’t feel guilty about that,” he said. Caught Danny’s eyes. “You weren’t being unreasonable.”

Danny looked away. He gave a fake little laugh. “Anyway,” he said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Danny—”

“Nope! Changing the subject,” he said with false glee. “Did I tell you how Ellie landed the job as a Freeze goon?”

“No,” he said. “What’d she do?”

“Okay, so. She bursts into the warehouse, right? Immediately tackles me to the floor and starts wailing on me. Naturally I couldn’t let that slide, so now we’re brawling, everyone’s watching, and that’s when Ellie snatches my freeze ray—”

They were rudely woken up by Bats. Freakin’ Bats. Inside Danny’s apartment, in his bedroom.

It was like four AM. The tail end of patrol.

“Daniel Fenton, you are under arrest,” Batman said.

Jason had already shot up in bed and grabbed a gun off the nightstand. He leveled it at Bruce. “What the fuck?”

“Ja—Citizen. Don’t do this. Put the gun down,” Nightwing said.

“Wha’s goin’ o—Oh,” Danny said blearily. His hair was sticking up in every direction.

“Daniel Fenton, you are under arrest,” Batman repeated.

“For what?” Jason snapped.

“Burglary in the first degree.”

“You follow up with all alleged bank robbers in their homes like this?” Jason snarled.

“Fascinating. We never mentioned it was a bank robbery,” Nightwing said.

Jason rolled his eyes. “I have the major criminal charges memorized same as you, Dickwing.”

“I’m just saying! What if it was burglary of like, a convenience store or something?”

“There was a bank robbery less than a month ago. One guy got away. I’m not stupid.”

“And how exactly did that one guy get away, huh?” Nightwing asked.

“Oh, screw you.”

“What the fuck is going on here,” Danny said.

“My idiot family wants to arrest you just for knowing me.”

“What the—”

“Jason Peter Todd, you were not at liberty to divulge any classified intel to civilians, much less to Rogue-aligned villainous goons. You will be reporting back to the Batcave immediately for a full debrief.”

“Thought I wasn’t a member of your goddamn team anymore.”

“Maybe we should all just calm down,” Danny said.

“Stay outta this,” Nightwing said.

“It’s my arrest?”

“It’s my arrest. You’re just the perp.”

“You can’t just arrest people for knowing me,” Jason said. “That isn’t fair.”

“As I said earlier, Daniel is being arrested for burglary in the first degree,” Batman said.

“That’s utter bullshit and you know it. You never follow up with goons.”

“We follow up with goons when they have concerning gang ties and unknown personal vendettas,” Nightwing said. He turned to Danny. “What is your connection to Phantom?”

Danny blanched. “Uh, Phantom?” He laughed nervously. “Who’s Phantom?”

Everyone stared at him for a moment with the same flat expression.

“Danny doesn’t owe you shit, Batman, much less an explanation. Ask someone else from Amity Park.”

“Very well,” Batman said. “I suppose I will.”

“Wait!” Danny shouted. “No, don’t do that, leave them alone. I’ll talk.”

“What?” Jason asked. “Don’t say anything!”

“They’re threatening my family!”

“No we aren’t!”

“If Danny refuses to cooperate, there will be consequences.”

“This is why I never tell you shit. You get that, right?” Jason asked. “You are never normal about anyone getting close to me. God forbid I have a relationship without the Batman seal of approval! If you arrest Danny, I will personally see to it that he doesn’t spend more than an hour in a jail cell.”

“You can’t say things like that. That’s a confession,” Nightwing said.

“To what? Being willing and able to provide bail money?” he asked. Nightwing rolled his eyes. “While we’re on the topic of admitted crimes, how’s that double life vigilantism going, hm? You know, your little arrangement with Gordon isn’t that different from the arrangement that say, Maroni has with a number of crooked cops in his own pocket.”

“Okay, fuck you—”

“Boys,” Batman cut in. “This is irrelevant. Danny, will you come quietly?”

“Uhhh---” He looked over to Jason, who shook his head. “I guess not?”

“Great. Now we have to fight,” Nightwing said. “Danny, go stand in the corner.”

“What the fuck.”

“He’s a civilian! We can’t have him getting hurt! I though you would understand that at least.”

Danny laughed. “I ain’t no civilian.”

Rings of light flashed over his body, leaving a color shift behind in their wake. Ears tapered up into points, teeth grew down into fangs. Glowing constellation freckles appeared on his skin.

He put his fists up and grinned.

“Phantom,” Batman said. Nightwing cast his eyes heavenward.

“The one and only,” Phantom said.

“Explain yourself.”

“What’s there to explain? I was sleeping peacefully in my bed before you two invaded my home.”

“Why are you working as a Mister Freeze goon?” Nightwing asked.

“Um, because I need money? Why else does anyone work as a goon?”

“Phantom. The Justice League offers a stipend to all heroes who need it.”

“They do? Since when? Wait, how much is it?”

“It’s not a full living wage, but you could supplement it with the right part-time job.”

“I already have a good part-time job!” Danny said cheerily.

Jason laughed. Batman and Nightwing glowered.

“You know, Wayne Enterprises is always hiri—”

“No,” Danny said.

“No?” Nightwing asked.

“No, I’m not going to work for your family.”

“Why not?” Nightwing whined.

“Because it’d be weird! I don’t wanna be employed by Jason or Jason’s family; that’s a weird dynamic! It’d be awkward! It would change things! I don’t wanna be indebted to you guys in that way.”

“I already tried hiring him, B, he said no.”

“And I stand by that.”

“Just stop committing crimes, okay?” Nightwing said.

“No. You stop committing crimes.”

“Daniel James Fenton, you will either abide by the laws of this land or you will face justice for your crimes,” Batman said.

“Fuck you!” Jason shouted. “You don’t get to give ultimatums to him! You wanna fucking fight me, B, let’s go!”

“Hey now, I’m sure we can all solve this like rational adults, without any fighting or going to jail,” Danny said. “Batman, Nightwing, why did you really come here?”

“To arrest you?” Nightwing said.

“Really? Because this is the most made-up bullshit charges against a fellow hero that I have ever seen in my life,” Jason said. “You’re gonna drop this and leave my husband alone or you’re gonna have a war on your hands.”

“Husband?” Nightwing shrieked.

Jason folded his arms. “My husband.”

Batman glared at Phantom harshly. “When did this happen?”

“Nu-uh. You don’t get details. You don’t get shit. You’re lucky you even get to know I’m married. So fuck you, fuck off, and get out of this house."

Chapter Text

“Is there a reason I was woken up at 4 AM last night by loud shouting?” Jazz asked. She looked exhausted.

“Batman broke in,” Jason said.

“What?”

“Batman broke in and tried to arrest Danny.”

She blew out a breath, moving a strand of hair in front of her face. “Was there a fight?”

“No, we talked him down.”

“I talked him down,” Danny said. “You told him to square up.”

“End result’s the same. He left, no one got arrested, and there’s no property damage.”

“Alright,” Jazz said. “You realize I start my new job on the Watchtower today?”

He cringed. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, Jazz,” Danny chimed in.

“It’s alright. It’s fine. It just-- woulda been nice to get a full night’s rest before my first day,” she said. “Also. Does Batman know we’re related?”

“I have to assume so?” Danny said.

Jason shrugged.

Duke showed up, in civilian gear, at his gym that day.

Red Hood folded his arms and stared the kid down. “What are you doing here, Narrows?”

“Well, I live in the area—”

“You live in Bristol.”

“I used to live in the area, and Crime Alley will always be my home,” he said firmly. “And I heard about this fantastic gym down here, so I just had to check it out.”

“You’re spending too much time around Brucie. It’s affecting your speech patterns.”

Duke grimaced.

“Anyway,” he said, soldiering on. “Is Danny Fenton around? I’d like to congratulate him. I heard he recently got married.”

“Touching,” Hood said. “I didn’t realize you knew Danny Fenton.”

“Yeah, somehow I know him but I’ve never met his husband,” Duke said, with a completely straight face. “Don’t even know his name.”

“Neither do I.”

“Really.”

“Really,” he said. “How do you know Danny, anyway?”

Duke’s eyes widened, just slightly. Then he puffed out his chest and tilted his chin up. “We’ve done work together.”

“Really,” Hood said, in the flattest tone the modulator could do.

“Yes.”

“Wow. You might be the youngest professional goon I’ve ever met.”

“Oh. Uh… yeah. Yeah, I might be.”

“Get out of my gym,” he said. “Go do your homework or something.”

“It’s Saturday!”

“Go!”

Hood was in the greasiest 24-hour diner in the Alley, getting lunch, when purple Batgirl walked in.

“Red Hood?” she said, entirely too loudly, drawing the entire diner’s attention. Jason scowled under his domino. “OMG! As I live and breathe. It’s been so long! Tell me everything.”

“Get the fuck away from me.”

She sat down in his booth. Flagged down the waitress and ordered a coffee.

“I hate you,” Hood muttered.

“I’m your favorite Bat,” she countered.

“You so aren’t.”

“Yes I am. You hate everyone else more.”

Not Signal, he thought, but he wouldn’t dare say that out loud. It would just give them all ammunition. Never let the enemy know that you cared about them.

“Where’s your other half?” he asked. “Lurking across the street, I assume?”

“We don’t actually go everywhere together, you know.”

“You didn’t bring any backup?”

“Oh wow. Okay, first of all? I don’t need backup. I can handle myself. And second of all, I don’t actually feel threatened by you? Came here to bother you, even.”

“Antagonizing Rogues is part and parcel of being a Robin.”

She gave the world’s most exaggerated eye roll. “You wish you were a Rogue.”

He spluttered. “What the fuck?! No I don’t! And what the hell else would you call me, then?”

“The Bat currently beating out all the others for the title of Most Broody.”

“This is why I hate you.”

“Fascinating. Anyway,” she said. “How’s your twink?”

“Get out of here before I start shooting.”

“You would never shoot up a family-owned small business. This place is an institution. I just wanted to offer my congratulations! Shiny new relationship, I know how exciting that is.”

“Please don’t compare you and me.”

“Aww, but Hoodie! We have so much in common.”

“Now you sound like a Rogue.”

She sat with that thought for a moment.

“Okay,” she said. “Yep, I hear it now. Uh. Anyway, I also came here to give you a warning.”

He tensed. “What is it?”

“Nightwing was running his mouth in the Cave last night and I’m pretty sure the entire Batclan will be popping in on you today. You know. To meet your new beau.”

“Great.”

She finished her coffee and slapped a bill down on the table. “Alright. That’s it. See you around, Hood!”

Robin appeared-- during daylight hours-- while Hood was standing on the corner talking to some of the working girls.

“Hood,” he greeted curtly. “Where is your new paramour?”

“No,” he said.

“I must judge his worthiness. Someone needs to test his mettle as a warrior.”

“Absolutely not. That will not be happening.”

“You intend to hide him away from the family for the rest of your natural lives, then?”

“And beyond.”

“Tt. You are unreasonable. I will fight him eventually.”

“Why do you need to fight him?”

“I told you! I must assess his skills and ensure he does not stain our family honor!”

“I’m pretty sure I ruined the family honor. Ages ago, even.”

“Despite your numerous flaws, you are at least passably competent,” he said. “Yet I have no guarantee that this Phantom can even hold his own in a simple spar.”

“He’s been an active vigilante longer than you’ve been alive.”

“Not true. Also, having observed footage of his past fights, I believe his skills and sense of dignity are severely lacking.”

That was… probably a fair assessment, to be honest. Danny’s fighting style was most generously described as scrappy.

“And so what? You’ve decided to appoint yourself as his new trainer? For the sake of family honor?”

“If necessary, yes.”

One of the women cooed. “That’s so sweet!”

“No it isn’t,” Hood said. “It’s really condescending.”

“Oh, but he cares about you.”

This was such a load of bullshit. Getting adopted was a mistake. Jason should never have let the Bats know he came back to life in the first place. He could’ve had a clean slate.

“Look,” he said to Robin. “Phantom can hold his own, alright? You don’t need to worry about him.”

“I was not--!”

“Just because his style is different doesn’t mean that it’s wrong. It works for him. Like how me and Nightwing fight differently, and yet we can still both kick your ass.”

Robin frowned.

“I shall take this under advisement,” he said. He nodded. “Hood. Ladies.”

The women waved and called out goodbyes.

Red Robin manifested out of the shadows while he was on patrol. Hood didn’t jump, thankfully, because he never would have lived that down.

And then he noticed that spooky Batgirl was with him. Silent and menacing in the shadows.

“We’ve come to talk to you,” Red Robin said.

Batgirl punched a fist into her open palm, a clear gesture of threat.

“What’d I do,” he asked.

“You know,” Batgirl said. Hood absolutely the fuck did not.

“Daniel James Fenton,” Red Robin said.

“What about him.”

“What does he have on you?”

“Nothing! It’s a consensual relationship!”

“Doubt,” Batgirl said.

“I can date people!”

“Nightwing reported that you were married,” Red Robin said.

“Yeah, married, whatever!”

“However, there’s no record of a marriage certificate being registered to any of your aliases.”

“You don’t know all my aliases.”

“I do, actually.”

“God,” he said. “It was a purely spiritual marriage, okay?”

“What does that mean?”

“Weird psychic ghost shit. Leave me alone.”

“I actually have many follow up questions—”

“No.”

“—if you don’t wanna answer, that’s perfectly alright,” he said. “Number one: could this quote-unquote ‘weird psychic ghost shit’ produce a coercive or mind-control effect?”

He glared at Red Robin venomously.

“Yes,” Batgirl fucking read him.

“Okay. Question two: are you able to—”

Hood grappled away.

“All day. All day I have been plagued by Bats,” Jason complained. Danny made a faux-sympathetic face. “You don’t understand. They are manifesting out of thin air. Just to annoy me. Like that’s their sole intent.”

“Tragic,” Danny said.

“I’d like to see you deal with a billion annoying siblings.”

“Ellie counts for one billion annoying siblings.”

“She’s literally you but with a ponytail.”

“Yeah, have you met me? I’m the number one source of Jazz’s stress.”

Jason chuckled. “We should buy her flowers or something. To congratulate her on her new job.”

“Oooh, good idea. Could we have them delivered up to the Watchtower?”

“Danny, it’s in space.”

“Yeah, I’ll just drop them off myself,” he said. “Apparently there are monthly all-League meetings and my presence is required at the next one.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “The Anti-Ecto Act, I guess.”

“They’re gonna try and repeal them?”

“Yeah, the argument is that the Meta Protection Acts are a higher law, because they’re federal and the AEA is only a state law.”

“There’s a good chance of them getting struck down, then.”

“Allegedly. I’m not exactly holding my breath.”

“It’ll happen,” Jason said. “And if it doesn’t, I’ll burn every GIW base to the ground myself.”

Danny scoffed.

“For real,” Jason said. “Me and the Outlaws? No matter what happens with the government, we’re gonna put a stop to this.”

“Jason, no. They’d start hunting you then. You can’t destroy a government agency without backlash; they’d come for everything that you’ve built.”

“They can try,” he said.

Danny smiled sadly.

When Danny woke up the next morning, Sam and Tucker were there in his and Jazz’s apartment. He drew them both into a big, sleep-warm hug.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked.

“We came for the trial,” Sam said.

“Yeah, dude. We gotta support you.”

“The trial is gonna be held in Springfield?”

“And we’re going to be right there with you every step of the way,” Sam said. “I got us a hotel suite out here, and I’ll do that in Springfield too. Where you go, we go.”

He hugged them back again. “I love you guys so much.”

“We love you too, Danny,” Tucker said. Sam had trouble saying the words, but Danny knew she felt the same.

“Have you guys met Jason?” he asked, nodding towards his husband, who was grouchily making omelets at the stove.

“Yeah, dude, we did. Out of mask,” Tucker said pointedly. “Would’ve appreciated a warning.”

“You could have just as easily warned us that you were coming over,” Jason said.

“Didn’t realize we suddenly needed permission to drop in on our friend,” Sam snapped back.

“Alright, let’s cool down,” Tucker said. “What’s done is done. The important thing is that Batman can never know.”

“Agreed.”

“Amen.”

“Wait. What’s going on?” Danny asked.

“You told them you were involved with Red Hood,” Ellie-- who had been awake for longer-- explained. “Now they come here and you’re married to some random guy who happens to be a halfa. Blew his secret ID in one fell swoop.”

“...Oh,” he said. “Oh, shit.”

“It’s fine,” Jason lied. “It’s whatever. What’s done is done.”

“Shit, I am so sorry, Jason, I—”

“It’s fine,” he said, cutting him off. Danny let his guilt and regret flow unobstructed through the bond.

“Anyway,” Tucker said. “What’s all happened since we last talked?”

“So, Clockwork owes me a few favors,” Danny said.

“Yeah?” Jason asked. “You got a plan for one of ‘em, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I was thinking we could go on a honeymoon.”

“Now? Danny, we kinda got stuff going on. I can’t just pack up and leave with no notice.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I thought we could do it in a time suspension bubble.”

“...What.”

“So that no time would pass on Earth while we had our honeymoon in the Realms?”

“You wanna go to the Infinite Realms for our honeymoon?”

“Yeah? Of course. I was thinking the Greek afterlife, the Underworld, but if you have somewhere else in mind, I’m totally open to that.”

“No, that sounds cool as fuck. Let me pack a bag and we’ll go.”

“Great! I gotta tell everybody we’re leaving first. Do you wanna do the same?”

“I thought you said no time would pass?”

“Well, it won’t, but we’ll still perceive it as passing. If we’re gonna be gone for a long time, at least metaphysically, I wanna give my people a heads up. Standard procedure for all Clockwork-related bullshit.”

Jason thought about that.

“Nah, I’m good. The Bats don’t need to know shit about my life, and my men generally wanna stay far away from cape bullshit. I’d say time dilation falls firmly in that category.”

Well, that was fucking sad. Danny smiled at him anyway.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m gonna talk to my family then, and you can pack your things.”

“Want me to pack your stuff too?”

“Sure, just throw whatever in a bag.”

“Got it.”