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Chapter Text

Danny never saw herself leaving Amity Park. She always thought that between her low grades and responsibilities to the Infinite Realms, she was there to stay. Dreams of going to college sizzled out the lower her grades went as her… extracurriculars took up most of her time. Jazz still tried to convince her to apply to nearby colleges or even colleges closer to Jazz in California. Danny didn’t even want to bother. It was clear that her future was heading in a different direction.

In Danny’s opinion, Jazz always had too much faith in the younger Fenton. It led Danny to feel like she was disappointing her older sister. The ginger never had high expectations, but Danny never felt like she could live up to be a person that Jazz would be proud of.

She’d often joke about winding up homeless on the edge of an island in the Realms with a sign reading ‘Will do tricks for $’. Tucker would laugh and suggest she could take up cleaning the barnacles off Youngblood's ship for some spare cash. Sam would shove at her shoulder and remark how Danny would never survive out in the world alone.

Well, Danny thought, she wasn’t wrong.

She had no choice but to leave Amity Park, and now, she was alone, she had no money, she was cold, she was starving, and she was in so, so much pain.

She had been flying for so long so had lost track of where she was. She could only pray and hope that she was going in the right direction.

Towards answers.

Gravity had finally won the battle, and she fell through the sky. When her body had finally healed just enough for her to regain consciousness, she realized she was in a dumpster covered in her own blood. There was so much blood she couldn’t figure out where any of it was coming from, and she really didn’t want to think about the hole in the center of her chest.

Once Danny was able to heave herself out of the dumpster, she made a mission plan for herself. Something to focus on. 

She’d deal with the trauma of it all later.

First, she would find out where she is. Wait, no, first, she should find something to stop the bleeding. Maybe find some clothes that aren’t torn to shreds? Okay, yeah, that’s first.

Second, she would find out where she is.

Third, maybe find some food and water.

Fourth- Well, she’d see if she made it to step three before she made another plan.

Luckily, Danny’s near-death-dumpster was just a block away from a used clothing store that just so happened to have a donation bin around the back. It was easy enough to sneak over and take what she could get her hands on.

She lucked out with an oversized hoodie and a couple of worn-out t-shirts. One of the shirts would be great for makeshift tourniquets. She also managed to grab a pair of jeans. They were too big, but some rolling at the waist and the ankle would do the trick.

After a bit of tearing and tying, Danny was sure the bleeding would stop. At least, for the time being.

The next order of business was finding out where she was.

She didn’t want to draw attention to herself by asking where she was and having people look at her like she had two heads.

So she did some wandering.

Eventually, she found herself in front of a large building with extravagant pillars and a marble staircase leading to two large doors. Large letters decorated the pediment above the doors, reading ‘GOTHAM CITY LIBRARY’.

Well, it's as good a place as any to find answers.

A drop of water lands right in Danny’s eye.

Then another on top of her head.

And by the time she lifted her head to the sky, it was as if a lake had been dumped on top of her.

Danny wasn’t sure what otherworldly being was laughing at her right now, but she’d like to blast them in the face with an ecto-blast.

The inside of the library was grand, to say the least. High vaulted ceilings with large windows overhead, which showed the heavy rain outside. Large six-globed chandeliers hung from long chains from the support arches that separated the sections of windows. The second floor looked like a maze that Danny would never get out of. Wall sconces were placed between each pillar, helping maintain the warm light. 

The first floor had far fewer bookshelves. In the center of the room were several rectangular tables, some of which had a few people reading books. At the far end were two tables dedicated to public computers.

Bingo.

Danny started to make her way there when a voice stopped her.

“Is there something I can help you find?” 

Danny looked over to her right and met the gaze of a red-headed woman in a wheelchair. If it weren’t for her green eyes, Danny might just think Jazz had a doppelganger. 

Jazz.

Danny tried to swallow the knot in her throat.

“Um, no, uh, I was just wondering if I could use one of the computers. For uh- Homework.” She attempted a smile, but it must have seemed unconvincing because the woman gave her a quizzical look. 

“Homework? The school year hasn’t started yet.”

The knot came right back.

So it was still summer then.

“I’m in summer school?” That had come out more as a question than Danny had intended. She spotted the name tag on the woman’s shirt. Barbara. Librarian.

Not Jazz , Danny reminded herself. 

“Uh-huh. What’s your name, kid? I have to add it to the log for the computer use.”

“Danny.”

Barbara typed something into her laptop on her lap, only pausing briefly to look at Danny with a suspicious eye once over. 

“Right then, right this way, Danny.”

She wheels off in the direction of the computers and Danny sluggishly follows, trying her best to hide her limp. She was hoping that is was only a sprain and that she hadn’t broken her ankle in her unceramonious fall. 

Danny almost missed Barbara’s glance at her left foot. She pretended not to have noticed.

They reach the computers, and Barbara jots something down on a sticky note. “Here is the password. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” She turns to leave, but stops and gives Danny a much softer look. “I mean that.” 

Danny nodded and watched Barbara the librarian roll back up to the front desk. Her heart ached. She misses Jazz.

Danny sniffs and wipes at her eyes. Right, she's got things to do. She sits down in the creaky old chair and looks at the sticky note. 

GCPL06!

Danny punches in the password, then looks at the computer’s time and date. Then all the remaining color in her face fades.

[5:37 PM, August 13, 2016]

Last Danny remembered before… before she was taken was that it was two days after school had ended for the year which was…

Two months ago.

Danny suddenly felt sick. She swallowed down bile, then opened the search engine. The cursor hangs over the search box as her mind races with nothingness. Theres so much she needs to know. Before her summer from hell had begun, she had found something that had flipped her whole world off kilter. 

A file in her parents’ lab.

Her file. Except, it wasn’t hers. It was under a different name but in it was everything about Danielle Jane Fenton.

Danielle Jane Fenton, who was adopted under a fake name.

Danielle Jane Fenton who was raised thinking her parents were hers. Who grew up thinking she had a big sister.

Danielle Jane Fenton was born in Gotham, New Jersey, on October 31st, 1999.

Danielle Jane Fenton, who was lied to.

There wasn’t much that Danny could read on the oldest papers in the file. Just small bits of information that painted a picture. She had done a mental catalogue of what she did know.

1. Whoever had made the file had gone to great lengths to make sure that none of the information could be helpful.
2. There was a birth certificate. The date and place of birth and the first and middle names of the mother and child were all that could be seen. The child: Elizabeth Marie, and the mother: Eliana Jordan. Born in Gotham, New Jersey on October 31, 1999, at 2:23 AM. The father’s name was completely blacked out.
3. There was a death certificate for the child. Elizabeth Marie (Last name blacked out) died at 6:16 AM on October 31, 1999. Only alive for 3 hours and 53 minutes. Cause of death: Heart failure as a result of a congenital heart defect.
4. This child was Danny. 

Danny had no idea how to deal with her reality. She had no idea how she was born to one family, died, and then ended up with the Fentons. But it was all there. 

She didn’t realize she was crying until she sniffled.

Danny shook her head and typed in her birthday.

A few articles came up.

‘STORM OF THE CENTURY: Power Outages Surge Across Gotham’

‘BATMAN AND ROBIN: Dynamic Duo Put Two-Face behind Bars’

‘GORDON RECOVERY: Commissioner’s Daughter Seen in Public for First Time Since Joker Attack’

‘WAYNE FUNDRAISING GALA: Date Finally Set! Guide on How to Donate’

There were even a few things about recent happens with the Justice League. But nothing seemed to connect to Danny. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for. The death of a single child wasn’t going to show up in the news. She tried searching her birth name. The top result?

‘Common Names for Girls and Boys’

Nada.

She searches for her birth mother’s name. The top result is someone’s LinkedIn page from the UK.

So, Danny decided to take a different route. Get to know her surroundings. She knew that Batman was the local hero so she started there. A few sources were speculating his identity while some opposed that he had an identity at all, believing him to be an ancient bat god of vengeance. Some sources stated that Batman hated metahumans and for anyone of the like to steer clear of Gotham, else they would be chased out.

Danny wasn’t sure if she fell under the metahuman umbrella, but she supposed she was close. She’d keep that in mind while in the city.

She learned that he had several sidekicks. An ongoing debate on Twitter almost made her chuckle.

@Dickiebird Nightwing is absolutely not a sidekick. He’s an equal. And a million times more handsome than Batman thankyouverymuch

@PurplePeopleEater Bruh you can’t even see half of Batman’s face 👁️👄👁️

@NotaZombie Need I remind everyone that Nightwing fell on his ass AND THEN his face last week?

@DickieBird Ok, in his defense the ground was covered in ice

@TiredandTrying Do you guys smell that? Smells like excuses to me

@PurplePeopleEater Yup, definitely smells like scuses to me

@TinyStabbyNinja I agree with @TiredandTrying I smell excuses

@TinyStabbyNinja Who changed my username? I demand it be changed back this instant.

@BabstheBoss I vote Spoiler and Black Bat as the best

@deadlydancer Ditto

@DickieBird Well, at least we can agree on one thing… Batman sucks

@TiredandTrying Batman sucks

@NotaZombie Batman sucks!!

@deadlydancer Batman sucks

@TinyStabbyNinja This is a statement I can agree with.

@TheDukeOfGotham Batman sucks

And then several others agreed. Danny stopped scrolling on the thread when one active member on the thread started talking about Nightwing’s ass. She really didn’t want to read about that.

A recent article went over how Red Robin had interrupted a supplies drop for Scarecrow and said villain, and the supplies had managed to get away before he could stop them. It seemed to be a big concern, and a lot of people were worried about an attack. Under the article was a procedure form for large-scale attacks, reminding people how to make sure gas masks are secured properly, where shelters are, what to avoid, etc.

She read about the rivalry between Red Hood and Batman, theories on how Joker had escaped Arkham two months ago, and then about how people were feeling safe with the Justice League watching out for them.

It all gave her a headache.

A growl interrupted Danny’s doom scroll on another Twitter thread. This one was about who was the worst Gotham villain. The consensus was Condiment King, and Killer Croc won in the category of most terrifying. 

She looked down at her stomach with pursed lips. Food. When was the last time she had any?

Maybe that should be her next order of business. Danny looked up soup kitchens and found one in the East End of the city. It was about a 30-minute walk.

Thunder rumbled overhead. 

Make that 40 minutes.

Danny heaved a sigh and stood up. She tested out her bad ankle and cringed when it resisted with pain. Less than likely a sprain now. The front of her fleshly stolen sweatshirt was suddenly feeling wet. Danny reached up to touch it and blanched. Blood. She needed to get out of here.

As Danny passed Barbara the Librarian, she pulled her hood over her head, wanting to feel a lot less visible. 

The rain outside hadn’t gotten any less heavy, but she had no choice; she couldn’t stay here. So, off she went. Hopefully, the soup kitchen would still be open when she got there

Once the doors to the library had closed after Danny, Barbara pulled her phone up to her ear. “Hey Dick, you’re working the kitchen tonight, right? Great, I need you to do me a favor.”

Chapter Text

Gotham didn’t pass the vibe check.

Danny knew that everywhere on the planet, there were traces of ectoplasm. Amity Park was known to be up to its ears with the pure stuff , as Danny liked to call it.

Because Amity was connected to the Fenton Portal, there was a consistent ooze of pure, thick ectoplasm filling the air, the ground, and even the water. It made the perfect environment for regular visits from ghosts from the Infinite Realms. While it wasn’t toxic to humans, it certainly affected the locals, especially their food. 

Danny still gets flashbacks from when her lunch tried to eat her.

But with the portal gone now, Amity was back to normal.

Danny hoped that it was, anyway.

Gotham, on the other hand, was polluted, and not just from your run of the mill human inflicted pollution, but from the dirty ectoplasm that filled the air. 

Danny couldn’t help but cringe when she took a deep breath, and the horrible feeling filled her lungs. 

Maybe not breathing for a while would be for the best.

And then there were the shades. 

Amity didn’t have shades, only core ghosts. And blob ghosts, of course, but those were just the bottom feeders of the ghost food chain. They were everywhere.

Gotham seemed to only have shades. Lots of them, too. Everywhere Danny looked, there they were. Some were clearer than others, some only visible as shadows passing in the corner of Danny’s eye.

But they all had one thing in common.

They were starving.

And to them, Danny was the five-star, full-course meal they’d been craving.

Danny was a pure-core ghost, and they sought her out like a shark hunted for its prey. She had what they lacked. What they wanted.

Hands grabbed and pulled as Danny trudged through Gotham’s dark streets. Silent wails to all but Danny begged and pleaded for more. More. More! MORE!

She cried quietly as they followed her. She felt their hunger. Their grief. 

Emptiness.

It left her feeling hollow and so incredibly weak.

They fed off of her. Not only her ectoplasm, but her misery. It felt like mockery as they poked and prodded. She felt them laugh as they found the part of her that was full of fear from her own parents. The part of that knew she could never go back home. They found the sliver of hope that had formed within her and stomped it out. 

She wanted them to leave her alone. 

To go away.

So, with what little strength she had left, she spoke.

Begged.  

“L̷͖̫͗̑̓̓͜ͅe̸͚̪̺͎̅a̸̡̘͚̞̰̺̍v̸̯͕̱̺͇̍͊̓̍͗e̷̯͂̃͆̐͘ ̴̩̘͔͝m̴̡͎͚̣͍̓͐̽é̶̝̫̱͎̐͠ ̵̼̩̼͗͘a̵̛̖̤̯̤l̵̪̪̾͘o̸̡̠͉͆̊͘̚ň̶̨͓͓̠̰̅̕ė̷̥̜̜͎.”

And they did. They shrank away in fear because Danny scared them.

“Monster.” They hissed.

They were right. Danny was a monster.

This hell she was half-living in was her punishment for what she was.

For what she had done.

Danny hadn’t realized how long she had been walking until she all but body slammed a light post with her face. She rubbed at her forehead and looked up, frowning at the utter rudeness.

How dare that light post be there.

She looked around, glancing at the lingering shades as she took in her surroundings. To her right was a two-story building with a small parking lot next to it. It was gated off, but there was a section of the gate that had been clipped and pulled back to allow someone to slip in.

Above the entrance was a sign. 

‘St. Lawrence’s Shelter’

It was the soup kitchen Danny had looked up! She did make it! Now she could eat and-

Danny’s entire form deflated.

‘CLOSED’

Danny supposed it was never too soon to give up. She could just lie down on the pavement and call it quits. The shades could take what little she had left in her core, and the vultures could take the rest.

She wanted to be 13 again. Maybe if she could go back, she could ruin her life differently. 

Maybe she could convince Clockwork. She's not sure what an immortally undead Ancient of Time could possibly want, but maybe he’d take chocolates as a bribe.

“Hey, Clocky, here's a box of chocolates! Can I back and un-fuck my life, please?” She’d say.

Danny didn’t know if the know-it-all was able to hear her thoughts, but she doubted that even if he could, it wouldn’t do her much good. She knew he was watching. He was always watching.

Danny stuck up a middle finger to the sky with meaning. Instead of satisfaction, all Danny felt was the sting of Clockwork’s knowing smile.

Damn him.

“That's not very nice! You never know, Superman might be flying overhead. Wouldn’t want to give him the bird, would you?”

Danny knew they had been there. Passively anyway.

She put her hand down and tilted her head over her shoulder to see a man standing behind her. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder and a cool smile on his face.

“Yeah, well, Superman sucks. Martian Manhunter all the way.” Danny said as she turned to him.

The man hissed through a cringe. “Oof, careful he might hear you. That could hurt his feelings.”

Danny gave him a dull look. 

“Maybe Superman should work on strengthening his fragile feelings, then.”

He was tall. Well, taller than her anyway. Maybe a few inches shy of being 6 feet tall, and his black hair was on the longer side, reaching a bit past his ears. His eyes reminded Danny of something, but she couldn’t quite place it. She recognized that blue.

Looking further, past his eyes and into the glow around him. There were undertones of yellow, orange, and a bit of green, but at the center, it was all blue. Danny was new to seeing souls like this, but this one was familiar. It connected to her own in a way.

Loyalty.

Protection.

The familial connection drew her in, like this soul was important to her somehow. She almost took a step forward when she snapped back, shaking her head, and the colors disappeared. Danny must have been staring for a long time because she realized he was giving her an odd look.

A haunted look. 

“Um, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. You just look familiar.” She said, rubbing her arm.

The man blinked out of whatever thought spiral he was in and gave her a sheepish smile. 

“It’s alright. You look a bit familiar too.” 

He cleared his throat and stuck his hand out. “My name is Dick Grayson.”

Danny didn’t move an inch; instead just stared at his hand.

He put his hand down.

“I volunteer at the soup kitchen. There are usually a few people who can’t make it in time, so I stick around.” 

Dick walks over to the stairs to the entrance and sits down, pulling out two soup thermoses out of the backpack and hods one out for Danny.

“Looks like no one else is coming, and I’m starving! Care to join me?”

Danny can’t help the suspicious glare she gives, but the man– Dick– Doesn’t seem to notice; or care.

“No worries if not. I’ve got plenty, and I don’t know if all of this would last until I get to Blüdhaven. Even at this hour, the bridge is a nightmare to get across with traffic!”

Danny watches as he puts the two soup thermoses out and sets them on the step next to him, then he pulls two to-go boxes out and a smaller paper bowl along with it.

Dick opens one of the bigger boxes and the smell nearly knocks Danny off her feet. She bites her lip as her stomach begins to beg. Dick also pulls some forks out and begins digging into the enchilada and brown rice.

The next box he opens makes Danny want to cry.

“Is-is that–?”

“Birria? Oh yeah. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat it, though. Between the soup and the enchiladas, it might go to waste.”

He looks at Danny with a small smile. “Unless you’d be willing to eat it for me? I’d hate to have it go to waste.”

Danny narrows her eyes at him and points an accusatory finger his way.

“That's cold, hard manipulation.”

He only shrugs and holds the paper bowl out to her. 

“You can call it that, or you can just enjoy the food.”

Danny gave in and sat down. You can blame her lack of will on the lack of… well, anything within her.

And so, the two of them sat in silence on the stairs of the soup kitchen, just eating their food. Danny felt bad for eating so much, but Dick insisted saying he wasn’t hungry anymore. She couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. She was too hungry to care.

Dick pulled a few napkins out of his backpack and she took one, wiping her hands and mouth. Then, she paused and looked at the empty food containers, and then at Dick.

“This wasn’t all from the soup kitchen, was it?”

He shrugs and leans back on his elbows on the next step. “No, but I had a lot of food and not enough stomach space to enjoy it all.”

Danny pursed her lips and looked at the soup thermos in her hands. It was almost ironic. Eating soup from a soup thermos. She was used to souping other ghosts with one, not eating soup from one.

“Did you get it at a restaurant? I can try to pay you–”

“Don’t worry about it. My brother made it all for me. I can get more.”

That only made Danny feel worse. She was a food thief. A horrible food thief who stole family food from a stranger.

“Are you new to Gotham–?”

Danny stayed silent for a moment before mumbling her name.

“Danny, that's a great name. Is it a nickname for Danielle?”

Danny scowled.

“Okay, definitely not Danielle. It’s okay, though, I hate it when people call me ‘Richard.’” Danny couldn’t help but smile at his tone when he said his name.

“Ha! A smile! I think that earns me a point in some competition somewhere. Well then, Danny, are you new to Gotham? It's a pretty scary place if you don’t know where it's safe. Do you have family here with you?”

Danny’s smile vanished, and she looked at the ground, thinking that maybe lying there wasn’t a bad idea again.

“That’s okay. Do you at least have a safe place to stay tonight?”

Danny nodded.

Danny was a liar.

“Good, that's good. Let me give you this, though, just in case.”

He pulls a business card out of his pocket and hands it to Danny. She takes it and looks at the information on it.

It was from the Blüdhaven Police Department. The front had information on how to make a report and what number to call, but on the back was a phone number, and under it was a little note saying, ‘You aren’t a bird-en, give me a wing!’

Danny tried to fight to smile that formed. 

“Stupid pun.”

“Ah, yes, but didn’t it… quack you up?” 

Danny looked at Dick and finally broke when she saw his face and the stupid smirk he had.

“What can I say? I’m just winging it, one seed at a time.”

Danny shook her head and tried hard to hide her laughter.

“Oh, come on! Laugh! I’m a real hoot–”

Dick’s phone begins ringing. The woodpecker ringtone. He smiles at Danny as he stands up, and all she can do is shake her head with a smile. He looks at the caller ID and frowns.

“I’m so sorry I have to take this.”

He turns away, and Danny frowns at the sudden shift in his mood.

“B, this is a really bad time. Can this wait?” Danny watches as he tilts his head back in annoyance.

“What? Why now? Don’t you have the Hatter case?” Dick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, save the lecture for someone who cares. What about– What could be so urgent–” Dick growls and lets out another long sigh, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

Danny stands and slowly begins to back away, fading into invisibility as she goes. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll be right there. Just give me a minute.” Dick ends the call and rubs at the headache that had formed at his hairline.

“Sorry about that, my–” Dick turns around, but finds Danny to be gone. He looks around with a frown. How did he not hear her leave?

He sighs and shoots Barbara a text saying Danny had managed to sneak away, then calls Jason as he begins packing up the food.

“What.”

“Ouch. Not even a friendly hello to your brother?” Dick shoves the boxes and thermoses into the backpack. When he doesn’t get a response, Dick pulls a strained smile.

“Alrighty, then. Well, mister grouchy pants, I was wondering if you could make me more of that wonderful food–”

“The fuck? Did you already eat it all? You fat pig. I just gave it to you.”

“Yes, well, I ended up needing to share it so–”

“With who? You don’t have friends.”

Dick stood straight up, hand over his heart and face agast.

“Not true! I have lots of friends!”

Jason grunted. “None that are in Gotham.”

Dick rolled his eyes and swung the bag over his shouler and began walking back to where he had parked his car. “Okay, fine, you got me there. I was doing a favor for Babs, but now I’m invested. Maybe I could tell you about it at the manor while you make dinner?” 

Dick tried not to sound so hopeful but failed miserably.

“I’m not going there while B–”

“Well, you’re in luck. He just left town to deal with some JL business.”

Dick paused walking and crossed his fingers.

“...Fine. But if he shows up, I’m gone.”

Dick pumped his fist in victory. “Yes! Okay, I’ll call the team. Maybe we can finally do that game night we’ve been talking about.”

Chapter Text

Dick Grayson had what many people called “eldest daughter syndrome.”

Being the oldest in the Batfamily meant he had to pick up the slack where Bruce lacked.

Which… was a lot.

Dick always tried his best to keep everyone in the family happy and safe. He tried to split his time between civilian work, vigilante work, and family time, but he wasn’t always able to be there.

He wasn’t there for Damian’s 4th-grade project presentations because Stephanie had been hurt while trying to take down Kite Man, and he had missed Duke’s poetry night because Tim needed help prepping for a last-minute board meeting for Wayne Enterprises.

He felt like he was failing all of them. He didn’t have enough arms to hold them up and not nearly enough time to be there for all of them. 

Dick had two people who he had failed the most and for that, he could never forgive himself.

His first failure was 17 years ago when he wasn’t there when his other half died, and his second was when Jason was murdered.

Two people who needed him.

Two times he wasn’t there.

Three people dead.

The guilt was suffocating at times. It came in horrible waves that wanted to sweep him off his feet. He wanted to let the guilt win, but the thought of even giving in for a moment instead of being there for his family when they needed him… He wouldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let that happen.

Dick knew that Bruce wanted to do better, to be better but actions spoke louder than words and Bruce didn’t talk about anything feelings related. Everyone had grown used to Bruce being distant and unreliable, even Dick. 

If there was one thing you could rely on in the family, it was that you couldn’t rely on Bruce. 

Not for things that really mattered, anyway.

It was a rare evening when everyone in the family (minus Bruce) would be under one roof and not in the cave discussing Bat stuff or training.

So, when Dick saw an opportunity, he took it.

Dick stood back with a smile as he looked at his handiwork. The pillows and blankets were in the perfect position for all his siblings for game night. All the controllers were charged and ready, and the popcorn had only been burned just a little.

He was sure it was still edible.

Sort of.

It would be fine.

Dick frowned.

Right?

“Where is everyone?”

Dick turned to look at Jason. He must have snuck in.

He checks his watch and purses his lips.

“They should be here soon. I said 9:30.”

It was 10:13. Dick sighed, looking utterly defeated.

“I was hoping that baiting them with food would work.”

Dick sat on the couch, head thrown back. Jason lingered in the doorway for a moment, then joined him, staring at the ceiling.

“Tim is in the manor somewhere. Bruce has him on house arrest for not sleeping. Damian… I think he’s still mad that B left without him, so he’s in his room brooding. Everyone else…” Dick shrugged in defeat.

He hated how things were so tense all the time in the family. Even with Bruce gone, it was hard to have the dark cloud he left behind feel a bit brighter. Dick knew he was partly to blame for it too. Not being there all the time is enough to cause some underlying tension. If he could just… split himself, then maybe he could be everywhere he needed to be all at once.

“Stop blaming yourself.”

Dick looked at his little brother who had his eyes directed away from him.

“I’m not-”

“You get this pouty puppy look on your face. It’s obvious and pathetic.” Jason stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket. “‘S not your fault.” He mumbled.

Dick’s jaw twitched as he closed his eyes. He tried hard to believe it.

“Something else happened.” It wasn’t a question. Jason knew. Dick sometimes forgot how observant he was.

Dick leaned forward on the couch, pinching his left thumb. A calming habit he’d formed.

“...Nothing happened, so to speak. I just-” He sighed.

“I saw her face today.”

Jason looked at Dick with creased brows. “You saw her or–”

Dick shook his head. “No, I– I saw someone that looked like her. That kid Babs had me help.” Dick’s face contorted with grief and confusion.

“She just looked so much like her. It was like going back in time.”

The silence was heavy for a moment. Talking about her , about them , was a hard subject for both of them. It still stung, and every year around this time, it only got harder. It was only just the beginning of fall. Summer was still in gear, but you could feel the change in the air. Dick couldn’t enjoy the beauty of fall anymore because of what it used to mean to him. 

What it meant to her. 

Going for walks under the trees of changing leaves only left him feeling broken and empty now. The chill in the air felt cruel. The rain reminded him of the worst night of his life. The smell of pumpkins made him sick. And every Halloween, he’d lock himself away. 

He always felt hollow.

Like a part of him was missing.

“Tell me about the kid.”

Dick looked at Jason who was quick hide his own heavy guilt ridden expression. It only made him feel worse, knowing Jason felt the same.

“Babs said she came into the library looking like she’d been hit by a car. She was bruised, clearly bleeding, and possibly had a broken ankle. Based on her search history, Babs said she’d be heading to the soup kitchen, so I stuck around to see if she’d show up. And sure enough.” 

Dick chuckled. “I walked up to her and she was sticking the bird to the sky. My guess would be at the universe, but she definitely gave Clark a bruised ego. Said he needed to work on his ‘fragile feelings.’”

Jason laughed. “I like her already.”

Dick nodded but his smile quickly faded. “Talking to her, seeing her face… It was like someone put a hot poker to my chest. I was going to try to get her to a shelter and some medical attention, then B interrupted.”

Jason snorts. “That bastard has impeccable timing.”

Dick nodded. 

“When I turned back around, she was gone. Just… poof.” He sighs.

“This was at the soup kitchen near the Eastward Bridge, right?”

Dick hummed, nodding.

“It’s not my usual haunt, but I’ll keep my eye out.”

Dick smiles and ruffles Jason’s hair. “Thanks, Little Wing. I can always count on you.”

Jason smacks his hand away and tries to fix his hair. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, do you want food or not? I’m staying here forever.”

Dick jumps to his feet. “To the kitchen we go!” He parades out of the room, and Jason rolls his eyes fondly, but he stands and moves to follow.

“You're not helping this time. Last time Alfred was fuming, I let you near the stove. And we’re watching Pride and Prejudice while we eat!”

Danny was back at her near-death-dumpster.

The alley it was in wasn’t so bad. If you looked past the black mold in one corner and the horrid smell emanating from it, it was rather homey with a bit of imagination (and maybe a bit of delusion).

You couldn’t really blame her. She was trying to make something good out of something absolutely horrible. 

And right now, everything was horrible.

The food that Dick had given her boosted the healing process and gave her enough energy to use her invisibility to slip away. She did a full assessment of her injuries and concluded that A. She was fucked and B. she looked and felt like absolute shit.

If she wasn’t already dead (or half dead- Full dead? She still doesn’t know), then the extent of her injuries would have done her in.

Unfortunately, she had been correct; her ankle was broken. She was no yeti doctor, but she had a feeling that the way her ankle stuck out at an angle was not normal. One of Danny’s many stupid ideas was to reset it herself. It ended up with her biting her tongue with her sharper-than-normal teeth. Danny whined as the pain shot through her. 

Damn teeth. Since the pointy new ones came in, she has been constantly biting her cheeks and tongue.

Just one more injury to add to the list.

The cuts and bruises on her arms, legs, and torso were slowly working towards healing, but as she took stock of each one, she’d add a layer of frost to help speed up the process. The cut along her spine was the hardest to get to, but she managed somehow.

The worst of it all was the massive open wound in the center of her chest. She didn’t want to look at it. She knew it was horrible, but it needed to be treated. Bile was in her throat as she carefully used her ice to seal it up. It was a messy fix. Danny was never good at giving herself stitches. All her self-patch-up scars were gnarly, but they did the job.

This one, though, she had a feeling would be red and angry for a long time. 

They tried to take her core, after all. 

That will take more than just time to heal. Not all scars are physical, and this one was going to stay with her for a very, very long time.

Once all the open wounds were covered, Danny finally allowed herself to relax in the only semi-clean corner of the alleyway. She formed an ice brick and pressed it to the side of her face that hurt the worst.

If rock bottom had a basement, then she was definitely in hell right now.

Danny wondered what Jazz was up to.

Her junior year of college should start soon, but she might already be well into her first semester now. Danny remembered she was talking about studying over the summer.

Did she wonder about Danny?

What did Sam and Tucker think happened to her?

Were they looking for her?

Danny thought about the file she found and all the lies in it. Was it all fake? Why did they lie to her? If it was all true, then who was her real family? Were they looking for her? Was she missed?

All she had were questions, but Danny couldn’t answer any of them tonight. 

Maybe Nocturne would be merciful and allow her dreamless sleep.

But sleep wasn’t in Danny’s itinerary.

She heard a shout, so she opened her eyes, and just in time to see Red Robin jump from one rooftop to the next, miss, bounce off the bricks, and fall right into her dumpster with a heavy thump.

Danny blinked once.

Then twice.

Then sighed.

“Ow.” Red Robin wheezed

“Hey loser! Get your own dumpster to bleed in! This one’s mine!”

Chapter Text

Tim knew he was going to be in so much trouble. 

Bruce had left Gotham a few hours ago for League business. Something about Constantine needing to report something about something or another. Tim didn’t really care to pay attention to what Bruce had said.

Before he had left, he had set a few simple rules. 

Stay out of the kitchen. 

Do not so much as look at the Batmobile (Tim knew that one was pointed at him).

Don’t leave Damian unsupervised.

And the last rule, which Tim, at the time, had thought ridiculous and unnecessary.

Do not let Tim patrol until he sleeps.

Five hours ago, Tim thought he was more than fine to patrol. His head was on straight, and he could mostly keep his vision focused— if he tried hard enough.

Four hours ago, Tim had caught wind that Scarecrow had been spotted by the docks.

And four hours ago, when Tim was supposed to be sleeping or joining family night, he snuck out of the cave, comm off and all. 

Three and a half hours ago, Tim found the warehouse where Scarecrow was spotted. For the next three hours, Tim waited. And watched. And only occasionally nodded off.

Finally, Scarecrow showed up in a boat, along with several armed goons and nearly two dozen barrels full of unknown substances of unknown origin.

Twenty minutes ago, Tim messed up.

He, in his no sleep for four days mind, had decided to ambush them. Alone. With no backup. And no comm. With no one knowing where he was. Or how stupid he was.

(They definitely knew)

Obviously, that had gone over so well.

Tim heard Michael Scott in his head saying something about turntables as Scarecrow’s goons started shooting at him. As he fled the scene with two goons on his tail, he saw several box trucks take off in different directions with the barrels in their loads.

One more shit storm to add the list.

The chase continued until Tim tried to jump from one rooftop to another, but his timing was off, which resulted in him needing to grab onto the ledge. But he, in fact, did not grab the ledge. He bounced off the brick side of the building and fell.

Right into a dumpster.

The awful wheeze that escaped his mouth as he felt the pain in his ribs sounded like something otherworldly.

“Ow.” He managed, though his ribs screamed as he did so.

Maybe if he lay here, he could die and his ghost would be safe from Bruce’s wrath. 

He doubted it.

He’d be lucky if all Bruce did was bench him from patrol. 

“Hey loser! Get your own dumpster to bleed in! This one’s mine!”

Tim peeled his eyes open to see someone staring at him from the edge of the dumpster.

“Dick?”

The person who looked strangely like Dick scoffed. He could practically hear the hands on the hips.

“Rude. We only just met. At least give me a day before you start throwing names around.”

Tim blinked. And blinked again.

His head hurt. He’ll blame the blood loss.

“Huh?”

He sat up and shifted to look at not-Dick. 

Okay, yeah, definitely not Dick. A girl. Who strangely looks a lot like his brother.

She tilts her head at him. “You’re one of those wannabe furries. The red one. The less murdery red one.”

Tim narrowed his eyes.

“Rude right back at you. I’m way more than less than murdery.”

The girl nodded, seemingly unconvinced. “Sure thing, dude, whatever makes you sleep better at night.”

Tim wasn’t sleeping. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was his ego that was the source of his insomnia.

She looks up at the roof he had fallen from, then back down at him. “I have to say, I’m impressed. I had no idea a human could bounce like that. You should put that on your resume.”

Tim groaned as he reached up to his shoulder and pulled it back to see it covered in blood. 

“Do vigilantes even have resumes? Is there like a forum you guys go to see your skills? Or lack thereof? I’d say rooftop jumping is definitely one of your weaknesses. Human sized cornhole with dumpsters though— that’s definitely one of your strengths— I— Are you writing this down? You know what, never mind. I’ll handle your resume for you. Would you prefer a hard copy or email?”

There was shouting in the distance. Tim tensed, and the girl lazily looked over to the entrance to the alleyway.

“I think I heard something over here!”

The girl looked back down at Tim. “It sounds like your friends are looking for you.”

Tim pressed onto his shoulder. 

“If you consider friends crazy people with guns and intent to kill, then yeah, they’re my friends.”

“That's just pathetic, my guy.”

The shouting was getting closer.

Tim looked at her.

“You should probably hide.”

“And you should get some better friends, but I’m not here to judge. Besides, I’m not getting in there. I have some dignity remaining.”

Tim’s flabbers were gasted.

“I thought you said this was your dumpster to bleed in!”

The girl pursed her lips. “Did I? Or are you just delusional? Like I said, the one with dignity in this situationship.”

Tim was almost tempted to look around for cameras. This couldn’t be real, could it?

“Situation— what?” Tim shook his head in complete shock. “This isn’t a situationship.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Mm, well, we’re in a situation, this is between us, so—“ she twirled her hand. “Situationship.”

“Hey, you! You seen a weirdo in a suit run through here?”

Tim swore. “Don’t tell them I’m here.”

The girl turned to face the two guys with guns and pursed her lips, tapping her chin. “Depends. You got any cash?”

Tim’s jaw dropped. She was going to sell him out for a couple of bucks?

One of the guys grumbled, then handed her two bills. She glanced at Tim.

“Yeah, I’ve seen him.”

Tim flushed with dread.

“He ran off that way.” She pointed out to the street. “Looked absolutely ragged.”

The two guys took off, firing their guns into the air every few feet. 

“What a waste of ammunition and brain cells.” The girl says, shaking her head.

Tim struggled to get to his feet and was met by the girl staring at him. Her deep blue eyes bore into him, no, through him, as if she was looking into his soul. It was unsettling. He was towering over her because of all the trash under him, but if they were both on the ground, he’d guess they were about the same height.

“Some dignity you’ve got, taking money from crooks.”

The girl glared at him, then poked him in the side where his bad ribs were.

“Agh! What the hell!”

She crossed her arms and smirked. “Now we’re even.”

Tim shook his head in disbelief. “Even?! For what?!”

“You called me a dick.”

“That’s not— I didn’t—“ Tim took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, hoping to find his patience.

It must be on vacation.

“Just help me out of here.”

She leaned back on her heels and stuffed the crook cash in her back pocket. “Maybe. If you ask nicely.”

Another deep breath. “Please?”

She pursed her lips, as if it took great thought to decide. “I suppose.”

She took a step closer to the dumpster, and Tim sat on the edge. She smirked at him as she opened her arms. “Come on down, princess. Your Prince Charming awaits.”

Tim grumbled as he all but fell into her arms, which resulted in her holding him bridal style.

She looked at him and grinned. “See? Situationship.”

Tim was not impressed. “Just put me down.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

He sighed. “Please.”

She set him onto his feet, then stepped back, taking in his beaten and bleeding appearance.

“You look like shit.”

Tim unclipped his bo staff from his utility belt and pressed the button to extend it. Per usual, it gave some resistance, but eventually it extended to its full length. He leaned into it for support and gave her a once-over. She wore an oversized hoodie and jeans that were way too big for her. And her face, beyond looking like Dick’s clone, was covered in bruises and cuts. Black hair rested on her shoulder, which was tangled and looked messily cut underneath. She looked like she’d been hit by a truck and tossed into a blender.

“Sounds like projection to me.” He muttered.

The girl stuffed her hands in her hoodie pocket. She licked her lip where it was badly split.

“‘Least I’m not actively bleeding from a gunshot wound.”

“How do you know I was shot?” Tim challenged.

The girl gave him the most dull look that he’d ever seen.

“The hole in your shoulder is kind of a dead giveaway.” 

He nearly missed how her lip twitched when she stressed the word dead. She tilts her head, looking at Tim’s staff.

“Who made that POS? It looks ridiculous.” She cringes. “And barely functions.”

Tim scoffed. “Um, I did. And it looks and works perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

It didn’t, but Tim wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of being right.

Then something clicks.

“Wait, you said you were bleeding.”

“I never said that.”

Tim balked at her. “Don’t gaslight me! You literally told me to get my own dumpster to bleed in! You said that one was yours!” He gestured to the dumpster in question.

She leans against the wall opposite him with a cool smirk. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. I fail to see how it’s any of your business where I do and don’t bleed.”

Tim’s legs were getting weaker, so he carefully slid down to sit on the ground.

“I’m a vigilante. It’s my job to know.”

The girl’s eyebrows shot up. “Okay, and? Vigilantism is against the law, ya know.”

Tim didn’t have the brain power to make a retort. Everything was getting blurry, and he felt like he was floating.

“Oh shit, um, you’re actually bleeding bad.”

“No shit sherlock.” He whispered.

The girl, not-Dick, crouched next to him and began to press onto his shoulder, making him groan in pain. 

“Why haven’t you called for backup? Evac? Anything?” 

Tim looked at her with half-lidded eyes. She really did look like Dick. The freckles on her face reminded him of constellations. 

“Stars are nice,” Tim muttered.

The girl hummed. “Mm, yes, they are. Now, where is your comm?”

All Tim could manage was a small shake of the head.

“You don’t have one? What in the stupid– Ugh, never mind. At least tell me where your phone is.”

Tim pats his utility belt. The girl opens one compartment and pulls out his phone, shaking her head.

“Okay, so you forget your comm but remember your civilian phone. Congrats, you’re a certified dumbass.”

She takes his hand and pulls off one glove to use for the fingerprint access. 

“Boom, I’m in. Okay, urm, I don’t want to like, find out your identity, but who do I call?”

Tim went through the list of people in his brain who would most definitely put him in an early grave. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone found out, but there was one person who wouldn’t immediately rat him out.

“Jas–” Tim frowned as his words came out slurred.

The girl scratches her head and presumably looks at his contacts. “Uhh, well, looking under J… There's a Jaybird?”

Tim nods.

“Okay, urm, I’ll just–” She dials him.

It rings once, twice, three times–

“Replacement, this better be important. I’m busy–”

The girl cuts him off. “Uh, sorry, I just was told to call you so–”

“Who is this?”

“Jo Mama. Sorry– Not sorry– Whatever– Anyway, I’ve got your,” She glances at Tim and the blood from his shoulder covering her hand. “Uh, coworker here. I’d appreciate it if you’d come and pick him up. He’s bleeding all over me.”

There is a moment of silence, and Tim worries Jason might hang up.

“Where are you?”

The girl looks around and purses her lips.

“Uh, in an alley.” She looks at the dumpster. “There's a dumpster.”

“So incredibly helpful. Give the phone to Red Robin.”

The girl holds Tim’s phone to his face, muttering about how saving lives doesn’t pay enough to be dealing with sarcastic assholes.

Tim’s breathing is becoming uneven. “The docks. Five miles from the docks.”

She takes back the phone. “That better?” 

“Tell him he owes me. Big time.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“Stay there until I find you. I’m seven minutes out.” Then the call ends, and Tim is struggling to hold onto consciousness. She puts the phone in Tim’s lap, then smacks him lightly on the cheek. 

“Oi, stay awake. I’m not about to have one of Batman’s birds die on my watch. He’d like, send me to Arkham or something. Or worse, he’d turn me in.”

Tim tilts his head back to rest it against the wall behind him. “‘S someone after you?” 

Why do his words sound blurry?

“Yeah, the IRS. They want the other kidney.”

Tim coughed out a laugh. “I don’t have a spleen.”

The girl chuckled and glanced over her shoulder. “How’d you lose your spleen?”

“The demon took it.”

“Ugh, demons. Hate ‘em. Met one once. Loved whiskey. Had a thing for crossroads.”

Tim was suddenly feeling very cold. Is this death? Is this the end?

“‘S cold.”

The girl hums. “Yup. You’re welcome, by the way. Should stop the bleeding.”

Huh?

Tim looks at his shoulder and finds it covered in a thick layer of ice.

Glowing ice?

“You’re a meta?” He can’t take his eyes off the ice. It feels… weird. 

“Uh, sure, yeah, let's go with that. Just don’t go and rat me out to Batman, yeah? He hates metas.” She sits on the ground across from him, her forearms propped up on her knees. “How’d you even get shot? Friends don’t usually shoot friends.”

Tim sighed and gave the ice another suspicious look. He wasn’t feeling as lightheaded anymore and wondered if the ice was the source.

“They're not my friends.”

“I’d sure hope not.”

“They’re Scarecrow’s goons. I tried to stop a shipment from the docks, but-” He swallows hard. “Didn’t go as planned.” Tim paused. “Why am I even telling you any of this?”

“The near-death-dumpster reveals all.”

Because, yes, that makes total sense. 

Tim runs through everything that happened in his head. How badly he messed up. How much he was gonna be in trouble. The endless teasing he’d receive. The lectures, especially on protecting his identity, because– 

“Shit, you were on my phone.” Tim clutched it in his hand tightly. 

The girl rolled her eyes. 

“Dude bro, relax. I didn’t like go through it. I just saw names in your contact list. All meaningless to me.” She ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair and cringed as she was met with tangles. Tim swore he saw the ends of what looked like fangs.

She couldn’t see it, but Tim narrowed his eyes behind the mask. 

“How do I know you won’t tell anyone? About any of this.”

She smirked at him and nodded her head to the dumpster. “What happens in the dumpster, stays in the dumpster.”

“That's reassuring.” He grumbles.

The rev of a nearby motorcycle approaches. The girl turned around to check around the corner of the alley. “Oh look, it's the more murdery red one.” 

Tim craned his neck to look out the alley to see Red Hood step off his bike and look around. Then the girl coughed, and Tim watched as a puff of icy breath escaped her lips. She gives Red Hood another glance, then frowns deeply.

“Huh.”

She stands up and glances between Tim and Red Hood. “That's my cue to leave.” 

“I’ll get you your resume eventually! And next time, we’ll talk about finding you some real friends. See ya!”

She slips around the corner, leaving Tim groaning and slamming his head back in defeat, only to wince in pain. He didn’t even know where to begin to describe what just happened, let alone write it all in a report. Tim scoots over to the entrance of the alley, mindful of the glowing ice on his shoulder. He waves down Jason, who begins walking over.

“I thought you were on house arrest.” He says, once standing in front of Tim, then crosses his arms.

“You’re an idiot.” 

Tim sighs in defeat. “I’m aware.”

Jason looks around. “Where's the kid who called me?” 

Tim nods his head in the direction she left. “She walked off. I’m surprised you didn’t see her.”

Jason glances down the street and shrugs. “No one was here when I got here.”

“She was literally right–”

Tim was cut off by a flash of light.

Jason laughs. “Ha! That’s a keeper!”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.” Jason pockets his phone, crouches down, then pokes at the ice on his shoulder. It sends an odd shiver down Jason’s spine and leaves a pit in his stomach.

“Mr. Freeze?” 

“No, the girl who was here did this. It stopped the bleeding.” 

Jason grabs Tim’s arm and heaves him to his feet. Tim holds his bad ribs with a scowl.

“What are you even doing out here?”

“Looking for someone.”

“Who?”

Jason smirked. “Jo Mama.”

Tim hung his head. “Not you, too.”

Jason crosses his arms when they reach his bike. “I’m gonna leave the lecturing for B, but let me stress how much of an idiot you are.”

Tim hangs his head and mumbles something about leaving the planet for a few years. Jason chuckles, then throws his arm around Tim, causing the teen to groan in pain. 

“Let’s get your dumbass back to the cave. Oh, also, I called Dick.”

“Traitor!”

Chapter Text

Stephanie had a long night.

Actually, make that a long week.

It all started when her Dad had somehow managed to find where she was staying and sent her a letter. In it were claims of great escape plan and getting revenge against Batman. Oh, and his promises to take her away somewhere Batman couldn’t “poison her mind” and where they could do “father daughter bonding.”

Barf.

She knew that his knowing where she was living was risky, though, so she spent a few days at a nearby safe house. She kept an eye on her apartment from a distance, and every six hours, like clockwork, someone would drop a letter at her door. It was always someone new. Some random kids looking for some easy cash. None of them could exactly tell her who told them to drop the letters. 

It was exhausting dealing with him.

Like, can’t a guy take a hint?

No, Dad, I don’t want “bonding time.” I want you in prison. Where you belong, and where you can’t hurt me anymore.

It wasn’t always like that, though.

She remembers a time when her father was just that.

A father.

He taught her how to play baseball and how to defend herself. She remembered how proud her father had been when she punched Johnny Becker in the face after he called her pigtails dumb.

She remembers when they’d take long drives out in the country. He’d put her in his lap and together they’d drive as fast as they could. It was thrilling and fun and crazy and downright dangerous, but it was with him.

He taught her to love the danger. 

To become dangerous.

He taught her how to shoot a gun, how to hunt, and how to survive in the wild alone.

Even at seven.

He taught her hard lessons.

To never rely on anyone but herself.

To never trust.

She wasn’t surprised when he turned bad, but it didn’t stop it from hurting. There wasn’t a single day she could point to when it all went south, it just became more and more frequent when he’d leave for days at a time. Then, finally, he never came back.

Her mother turned to drinking after he was finally arrested. Stephanie learned quickly to never be home when she took to the bottle. She blamed Stephanie for her father’s imprisonment.

She wasn’t wrong.

Being Spoiler made her feel invulnerable. It brought her back to the one thing she could rely on. 

Danger. 

But it also brought her to something more.

Family.

Bruce was a collector of sorts. He brought in strays, as Stephanie liked to call them. People who needed a place, a purpose. People who had nothing and who found everything in each other. Herself being one of them.

It wasn’t perfect, but nothing was.

So when her father was threatening the very thing she cherished most, she became angry. 

And distant. 

Cass had tried to talk to her, but Stephanie pushed her away. 

The letter deliveries eventually stopped, and once Stephanie felt it was safe to go back to her apartment, she packed her essentials and went straight to the Cave, and found chaos when she got there.

Tim had gotten shot while doing something stupid. No surprise there.

Dick was wearing his depression on his face. Which was never a good thing.

Bruce was quiet. He didn’t even give Tim much of a lecture. Something was definitely going on, something bad. He always got quiet when things were getting bad.

Damian was angry, presumably with Bruce.

Alfred, however, was just as welcoming.

“Miss Stephanie, what a pleasant surprise.” He walks up to her, arms out to offer a hug.

Stephanie melts into his arms. “Alfred. I missed you.” 

He pulls back, holding her by her shoulders, checking her over. Then he sees her bag.

“Am I correct to assume that you’ll be staying in the Manor?”

Stephanie nods and rubs her arm. 

“Yeah. Somehow, my dad found my apartment. I was lying low for a few days, and now here I am.”

Alfred smiles. “Here you are, indeed. I will take your bag to your room for you. It’s exactly as you left it.”

Stephanie mutters a thank you as he walks away. She’s just about to head towards the stairs, but stops as something hits the side of her head.

She looks down at the paper cup that had hit her. And then over at Tim in the medbay, who is giving her a pointed stare.

She scoffs and walks over.

Leaning in the doorway, Stephanie smirks. 

“You look like shit.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “So I’ve been told.”

And he did look like shit. He was shirtless, and almost the entire right side of his body was wrapped up. She could see some dried blood caked on his skin, and his suit was on the table to her right, also coated in blood. 

“What even happened?”

Tim looked away from her, red creeping up his neck. 

“I messed up. But I need your help.”

Stephanie’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I just hear Tim ‘I do everything myself’ Drake-Wayne just ask for help?”

Tim, once again, rolled his eyes. “Yes. Now, can you help or not?”

Stephanie was tempted to report or argue, but when she saw how serious he was, she decided she’d save her attitude for another time. Sitting in the chair by his bed, she nods. Tim sighs in relief.

“B banned me from anything to do with cases, especially this one, so I need your help to solve it.”

Stephanie leans back in the chair, crossing her arms with a smirk.

“What's in it for me? If Bruce finds out I’m helping you, he’ll have both of our heads. I can’t say the same for you, but mine’s lookin’ pretty cute right now.”

She sets her chin on her hand, posing at him with a smile.

Tim rolled his eyes and leaned in, as much as his wounds would let him, and gestured for Stephanie to lean in too. She does so.

“If you do this and help me solve this case… I will give you the 1902 Theodore Goldfinch.”

Stephanie can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips.

“But that's… impossible. The last one was destroyed by my dad years ago.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “How do you even know about that?”

Tim shows her a picture on his phone. Stephanie grabs it, holding it closely to her face.

“That's your proof. Do we have a deal?”

Stephanie stares at the picture of the stuffed bear, analyzing every bit of it. It indeed was the 1902 Theodore Goldfinch bear, right down to the red vest and the brown flat cap. She glances between Tim and the picture, then hands it back to him.

“We have a deal. Send me your report and I’ll start working on it next patrol.” She stands and begins walking out of the room.

“But if you’re lying to me,” She points at him, eyes dark. “I will publicly release the blackmail file I have on you.”

Tim gulps.

Stephanie’s smile is sickly sweet as she skips away.

Once she’s gone, Tim lets out a breath. He’d better get to work on actually finding that teddy bear.

To anyone who would ask, no, Danny was not stalking Red Hood.

She was simply observing while conveniently, coincidentally , going wherever he did.

Without him knowing.

Remember: coincidence.

Danny winced as she watched Red Hood elbow a thug hard on their temple, then spun around and kicked another’s kneecap in. One tried to sneak up behind him with a gun, but Red Hood dodged the bullet with ease and grabbed the gunman’s hand with a loud crunch .

It was almost mesmerizing to watch him fight, if you looked past all the blood and screaming. He knew what he was doing, and he moved like he could see his opponents' attacks before they came. Always four steps ahead.

Danny didn’t have to see how he fought to know he was angry. She could feel it looming over him. Part of her wanted to step in and stop him from beating those people to a pulp, but then she remembered why he was doing it, and then part of her wanted in on the action. It was a bunch of thugs who liked to treat women like punching bags.

Yeah, they definitely deserved to have their kneecaps bashed in with a crowbar.

Danny wasn’t stalking him for the past four hours, she just wanted to know what his deal was, that's all. 

He was like her, at least in some way. He didn’t have a core, just the beginnings of one, like it didn’t have something to form around yet. He had died; that much was obvious. The touch of death is unmistakable, and Danny knew it all too well. 

He wasn’t a ghost, though. Not really… But then again, Danny wasn’t a full ghost herself. They were both in the same liminal space between alive and dead, but he seemed to have more of a foot on the living side of things than her. She could hear his heartbeat, could see him breathing.

Things she struggled to do these days.

It sucked being more dead than alive and it was hard to maintain appearances. Exhausting even.

Red Hood also had the same icky stuff in his ectoplasm that filled the air in Gotham. It's like whatever it was clung to his ectoplasm and fed off it, like the shades wanted to feed off Danny’s ectoplasm.

She wondered if he had a fresh dose of ectoplasm that it would fix how wrong his felt.

 Like a system reset.

But she couldn’t exactly go up to him and ask, because that would be weird. 

And Danny wasn’t doing anything weird.

Or creepy.

Technically, she wasn’t even on the same rooftop as Red Hood.

She was invisible– therefore not there– and she was floating– therefore not on the rooftop.

Again– not stalking .

But the gaslighting must have only been effective to her, because Red Hood suddenly spun around, hand twitching over his holstered gun. He felt her there.

He’d left his helmet with his bike a while back, taking his patrol with his eye mask and half-face mask, and a hood over his head. Danny finally understood where the hood part of his name had come from. The front of his hair was visible, and Danny had noticed the white tuft in the front. 

Danny wasn’t breathing before, but she definitely wasn’t now.

She waited and watched as he scanned the rooftop. 

She was starting to wonder if he’d stay like that all night, waiting for whatever was stalking him (which wasn’t Danny) to show itself, but finally he turned around and leaped from the rooftop and onto the fire escape.

Danny let out the non-existent breath she’d been holding in and finally allowed her feet to touch the ground.

Maybe stalking the local anti-heroes was a bad idea, especially if they are ghost-adjacent.

Ghost-adjacent.

Danny pursed her lips.

Technically, Red Hood did fall under the category of Ecto-Entities, which meant that the GIW could take him if they wanted.

Well… Danny doubted they could. Red Hood was badass and willing to kill. He’d put up a fight if they tried to take him, even with their ecto weapons.

But that brought up another question: Why hadn’t the GIW tried to take him? Danny easily sensed him, and she was sure that the scanners the GIW had would have detected him. So why were they not here? Gotham was up to its ears in ectoplasm, even if it was polluted. 

Well… that could be the reason.

Polluted ectoplasm, while still ectoplasm, could theoretically scramble their scanners. If that were true, then maybe Danny would be safe here even with a strong ecto signature like hers. Maybe she could even become Phantom here.

That wasn’t a risk she wanted to take, especially if it could put Red Hood at risk of being found. She wasn’t going to allow anyone else to get hurt because of her.

Just to be safe, she’d keep an eye on him.

Just check on him from time to time.

A kindness.

Not stalking.

Chapter Text

Bruce Wayne didn’t know how to be a better parent.

It was days like these that he wished he could ask his parents what to do. They would know how to make it better. They’d know what to say.

But they weren’t here, and Bruce had no one he could turn to for advice. He was supposed to be the person his family turned to for advice, and now he seemed to be the reason they were distant.

And now, his children were hurting, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Jason refused to speak to him, let alone be in the same room as him. 

Dick was beginning his anual spiral. It happens every Fall. 

Tim was injured. Bruce knew he was trying to prove himself. He wished he didn’t feel he needed to.

Stephanie’s father was harassing her again, despite his efforts to cut contact between Arthur and the outside world.

Cass was struggling in silence. Anytime she was asked what was wrong, she’d smile and brush it off. She wasn’t fine. He didn’t know how to help her.

Duke was overworking himself. Bruce tried to tell him he has help if he wants it. The boy was too stubborn to take it.

And Damian?

Bruce knew he had hurt him the most.

He had a son for so many years and didn’t know it. He wasn’t there to watch him grow, and now that he was here, all Bruce did was push him away.

He never wanted any of his children to follow in his footsteps. The life of a vigilante is lonely and cruel. He blamed himself for a lot of their struggles. 

If Batman never existed, would any of them have had such hard lives?

Bruce had put Damian on house arrest after Tim had been injured, but clearly it didn’t do any good.

“Robin. You’re not supposed to be here.”

Robin stepped out from the shadows, arms crossed.

“Yet here I am. And I am not leaving.” 

Batman turned around to face him.

“Robin–”

“I know about the Infinite Realms.”

Batman was taken aback for a moment.

“How–” Then he realized. “Raven told you.”

Robin’s cheeks flared red as he sneered at him. “So what if she did. I shouldn’t have had to go to her. A threat of this level should have been debriefed–”

“I don’t need you telling me how to run this team,” Batman stated loudly and firmly.

Robin’s nostrils flared, yet he didn’t raise his voice to meet Batman’s.

“Tt– That is not what I am doing, and you know it. I am merely making a point.” His features soften. “You should have told us.”

Batman’s shoulder deflated, suddenly feeling guilty.

“We can’t be a team if you don’t involve us,” Robin continues. “Nightwing is right, there is no ‘I’ in team, and trust goes both ways.”

They stare at each other for a moment. Robin’s face is twisted with something Bruce hadn’t seen on him before.

Hurt.

Batman’s jaw twitches as he thinks. This is an opportunity, so why is he hesitating so much to take it? To protect them? 

They aren’t protected if they don’t know. They are vulnerable. 

Batman sighs.

“What do you know?”

Robin’s lip almost twitches into a smile.

“Not much. Raven told me something about ripples. Something big has happened, and many people attuned to magic felt it. She heard about a place called the Infinite Realms and that it's where the ripples originated from.” He paused. “I assume Constantine told you more.”

Batman nodded.

“He felt the ripples, too. After some digging, he discovered that the ruler of the Infinite Realms has been injured by someone in our world. And that it is means for war.”

Robin swallows hard.

“What are the Infinite Realms?”

Batman turned to face the city, and Robin stepped up to stand by him. Small drops of rain begin to fall.

“Constantine called it the glue. That is the in between and what makes all of reality, reality. That nothing exists without it.”

“And the ruler? What do we know about them?”

“Next to nothing, besides them having the power to wipe out worlds and realities with a snap of their fingers.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Hn. Constantine is looking into who could have injured this entity and where they are hiding.”

Robin’s brow furrows. “Hiding?”

“Hn. Constantine senses they are still on the planet, injured.”

Robin looks back out at the city, tapping his knuckle to his chin.

“This could be disastrous. We need to spread the word and have our people keep their feelers out. I’ll inform the team. I trust you’ll be informing the Justice League?”

Batman looks down at his son, a small smile of pride on his face.

“Yes, I will handle that.”

Robin nods. “Very well. I will get started.” He hops away from the building’s edge, then pauses.

“And father?”

Batman turns to him.

“Thank you,” Robin turns away, pulling out his grapple gun. “For trusting me.”

In an instant, Batman is left alone on the rooftop. 

Bruce is unable to stop the smile that forms on his lips and the relief that shows in his body.

Maybe being a father won’t be so hard after all.

But he still wonders…

What kind of entity has the power to wipe out worlds?

And where are they hiding?

Danny was back at her dumpster.

Or rather, the rooftop above it.

The very same rooftop that Red Robin bounced off of.

It was raining again– Danny learned quickly that it rained a lot in Gotham.

She tried to remain intangible, but as a human, her energy runs out quickly when using her ghost abilities. Add to the mix that she was injured, well, it was a recipe for disaster. 

So, she set out to find shelter. 

Which led her to the roof.

Because what better place to find shelter than a rooftop?

There wasn’t much up there with her, besides a water tower barrel. 

And bird poop.

Danny sighed and looked up at the rain clouds.

A particularly large raindrop hits her in the eye. 

“You’re sure this is it?”

Danny’s head snaps to the alley below so fast that she hears a small pop.

Below her is a figure with a hood and purple cape, holding a hand to their ear. Danny tilts her head, birdlike, as she watches.

The figure throws a hand out, exasperated.

“Dude, you literally gave the most vague directions. An alley with a dumpster. Like WTF?... What do you mean that's all you had to go off of? Jo Ma– Bruh– you did not just Jo Mama me.”

Danny bites her lip to stop herself from laughing, but a snort still slips out.

The figure in the alley snaps their head up to Danny, who goes invisible with a yelp.

“...Lemme call you back, Hood.”

Danny stepped back but tripped over her own feet and landed on her butt with a grunt. Then the figure pulled themself onto the roof, standing directly in front of Danny.

She realizes that the person is Spoiler, another one of the local vigilantes. Her blonde hair is braided, resting over her left shoulder, and her eyes scan over the rooftop with a glint of danger. Danny doesn’t move an inch.

Spoiler’s eyes narrow, and Danny notices she's holding her breath, waiting to hear anything.

Danny begins to panic as her invisibility begins to slip. Her faint heartbeat begins to pick up as she looks around for an escape. There weren’t many options besides–

Tilting her head backward, Danny looked at the water tower.

Her head tilts.

Death 2.0 by drowning seemed a lot better than being discovered.

So, by some miracle, Danny flies across the rooftop and straight into the water tower. 

Ugh, so much for staying dry.

But– 

Wait.

Danny rubbed her head where it had hit the inside of the water tower and peeked her eyes open. There wasn’t any water in it. It was damp and cold and incredibly rusted inside, but because of a sizeable hole in the bottom, it held no water.

Okay, no death by drowning after all.

But now there was a risk of death by tetanus.

Way to spice things up, Danny.

Footsteps approach the water tower, and Danny freezes. She looks down at the hole and sees two purple-clad feet.

“I swear I saw… Ugh, never mind. Must’ve been the lack of sleep. Ew– Am I turning into Tim? This girly isn’t about to give up her peace of mind for a boy. He owes me a spa day.” 

Spoiler twist on her feet, and Danny hears a snap of fingers, and once again, she's struggling to hide her laughter.

She’s decided she likes Spoiler.

Another pair of feet lands on the rooftop. Danny tenses again.

Spoiler turns and runs at the other pair of feet, presumably hugging them based on the thump Danny hears.

“Orphan. Oh god. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you away. I just– I didn’t know what to do! He found me and I didn’t want him to hurt you– Er– or anyone of the family– you included– cause you’re family, duh, I mean, not to say you’re anything else– or more. Ugh, I’m so sorry! Please–”

“Shh.”

Danny sniggers as Spoiler stops her rambling.

“But–”

“No. Shush. No apology. Not needed.”

“But–”

A brief pause.

“Right. Sorry. Ah– I mean– sorry. Sorry!”

Danny twists herself so she can see out of the hole in the bottom of the water tower.

She sees Spoiler and another hero, Orphan, in a tight embrace. Spoiler seems to be smooshed into Orphan’s shoulder as the darker-themed hero squeezes her, eyes turned up with a smile.

“Uh, Cass, Sweetie, you can let me go now.”

The two heroes pull apart, and Danny watches with glee as Orphan kisses Spoiler’s forehead. The purple hero turns bright red.

“Missed you.” She says as she pats Spoiler’s head

Spoiler nods stiffly. “Missed you, too.” She squeaks out.

Danny chuckles and slinks back into the water tower, shifting to get comfy.

“I ship it.” 

The heavy rain then slowly lulls Danny into a deep sleep.

Peaceful at last.

“Why did we have to meet here? You know I hate this stuff.”

Tim sat down in the booth with a scowl clearly on his face.

Stephanie seemed to be smiling at his discomfort.

“Because I enjoy watching you suffer. Plus, you’ve never even actually tried it, you wimp.”

Tim looked around the boba cafe and absentmindedly rubbed his bad arm. It was throbbing slightly, but he refused to take the pain meds Alfred offered. He was beginning to regret that.

“Give me your card. I’ll go order for us.” Stephanie stuck her hand out, opening and closing her fingers. 

 “Cass and Duke are on their way BTdubs.” 

Tim rolled his eyes as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket, but before he could get his credit card out, Stephanie took his wallet from him. She blows a bubble with her gum, and it pops loudly as she pulls the shiny black card out.

She stands and ruffles his hair. “Thanks, boo.”

“‘M not your boo.” He grumbles as he tries to fix his hair. 

Tim shrugs his backpack off his good shoulder and digs through the mess. He pulls his notebook out and a pen, tapping it against the cover. Spending the past week on bed rest in the manor left him stir crazy. Only so much reality TV and books could keep him entertained for so long. The boredom allowed him to get some sleep, though. He wasn’t allowed to use his laptop, and his phone use was monitored by Babs. Bruce was really determined to make sure Tim didn’t do anything with the case he screwed up.

Which is why he and Stephanie decided to meet off-site. It wasn’t suspicious for four friends to get boba at all. Just normal teenager things.

“Boom.”

Stephanie dropped a drink in front of Tim as she sat down, along with three others. He picked it up and cringed at the brown liquid.

“What the hell is this?”

Stephanie took a hearty sip from her own drink. It was milky pink with green and brown chunks at the bottom and a green foamy top.

“I got you a boring one. It's a brown sugar espresso boba. Drink it.” She throws a straw, and it hits him in the face, right between the eyes.

Tim pokes the straw through the lid and hesitantly takes a sip. It didn’t taste terrible… It definitely could do with more espresso, and he wasn’t fond of the texture of the boba, but he could deal with it.

He looked at hers. “What did you get?”

Stephanie pushes her drink across to him. 

“OMG, you have to try it, it's so good.”

Tim swirls her straw and takes a sip.

And suddenly he's coughing and gagging.

“What the shit is that?!” He shouted through a cough.

Stephanie takes her drink back, looking incredibly offended.

“Uh, FYI, it's a strawberry milk tea with green apple and coffee popping boba and avocado foam. You just don’t have good taste.”

Tim runs and grabs a water cup from the front and sits back down, chugging the water to help get rid of the taste. He runs back to refill it. Stephanie giggles and pulls her phone out to take a selfie with her drink. 

“So, I took a look at the warehouse. Found this.”

She pulled a vial out of her pocket and tossed it at Tim. He barely caught it and frowned as the liquid in it swirled up and down. It was red with a green sheen that caught the light.

“What is it?”

“I dunno,” She shrugged. “I thought you might. You said your friends took off with barrels. Maybe this stuff was what was in them.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Don’t call them my friends.”

Stephanie smirked. “Oh, right, you have a meeting to get that sorted out, huh?”

Tim wanted to bash his head on the table. 

Stephanie had called Jason, who was more than willing to share the details of his dumpster disaster.

“You’re horrible,” Tim grumbles.

“Mm, but I’m cute, though.”

“You are,” Cass says as she sits down, placing a kiss on Stephanie’s cheek.

Tim glances between them, and a small smirk tugs at his lips when he sees how red in the face Stephanie is.

“Thanks.” Stephanie squeaks.

“I’m still so sorry.”

“We are sisters. All okay.” She assures with a smile and turns toward the table. She takes the drink with her name on it and sips it.

“Right. Sisters.” Stephanie mutters into her drink. She looks away as the blush on her cheeks burns.

Duke slams into the seat next to Tim, out of breath and sweaty, knocking Tim’s drink over in the process.

Tim looks at him in disbelief.

“Dude.”

Duke takes Tim’s water and chugs it.

“Sorry, dude. Had to run here. Missed my bus. Hey Steph, hey Cass.”

The two girls wave at him, Stephanie still stiff as a board.

“‘Kay, awesome, you’re all here. Now, can we get this over with?”

Stephanie sticks her tongue out at him.

“Right, well, we need to get this vial tested. The sooner we find out what's in it, the better.”

Cass takes it from him and twirls the vial up and down. 

“Strange color.”

Tim takes it again. “I swear I’ve seen it before, or something similar. I just can’t quite place it.” 

Duke takes the vial. “It looks so freaky.”

Stehpanie, Cass, and Tim share a look.

“Like normal freaky, freaky, or you freaky, freaky?”

Duke gave Stephanie a dull glare.

“Me freaky.”

“That's what she said.”

Duke sighed.

“It's… glowing. Green.” He blinks and rubs at skin between his eyebrows.

“Hurts to look at. I can take it to Luke. I’m sure he’d do some testing under the table if I asked.”

Tim nods. 

“Thanks. Steph, Cass, do you guys think you can take the box trucks? They had to have been caught on camera at some point.”

Cass gives Tim a cheery thumbs up and Stephanie copies her action, although much more flustered and red in the face.

"Dream team!" Cass chirps, holding out her hand for a fist bump to Stephanie.

Stephanie, who was no longer a girl, but a puddle on the floor.

Cass looks at Duke and Tim, both of who look away from her quizzical expression.

"Dream team~" Stephanie garbles from the floor, reaching up to fist bump Cass.

Duke and Tim share a look.

"Totally hopeless."

Chapter Text

Danny knew she was dreaming when she opened her eyes.

She wasn’t sure where exactly she was. In front of her was a window, and around her, the walls were white. The smell of antiseptic made her feel sick, and the storm beyond the window left a heavy feeling of unease in her belly. The storm was violent and dangerous, but its movement was slow and somber, like an echo. 

The ground beneath her was cold and unwelcoming, yet she felt glued to the spot. 

Danny tracked the raindrops with her eyes as they slid down the glass, and a tear of her own, mirrored in the glass, slid down her cheek. She found her reflection and quickly looked away. Seeing herself, especially in this form, felt bittersweet. What once brought her so much joy and freedom was now something she couldn’t even face.

Shame couldn’t begin to describe how she felt.

As Danny, she felt a little more human, because in that skin she could hide what she truly was, but as Phantom?

The monster was on full display.

The blood on her hands could never be washed away.

Or forgiven.

Danny always feared the day someone discovered what she was. Speculations and fears would fill her mind every night before she slept. Dread flushed through her anytime there was a close call. 

Guilt ate at her most of all. For not telling her friends. Her family.

Family was something Danny never really got to have, though. Growing up with the Fentons, Danny felt just as invisible as she became after she died. Jack and Maddie Fenton were too obsessed with their work to look at their children. The countless school events and awards in Danny’s name went ignored. Meals were often made for three instead of four. Birthdays passed without acknowledgment. At some point, she had lost her ambition for a future, and a dream of becoming an astronaut died when she did.

Jazz tried her best to be supportive, but it could only go so far, and Danny wasn’t about to let her sister give up her life for her. She deserved to be happy.

Tucker and Sam didn’t understand.

Couldn’t understand.

No one knew Danny died that night in the lab, not for a long time. She began to become distant. Her friends thought it was because of the stress of being the daughter of ghost hunters in a ghost-infested town. Or that she was depressed.

Neither theory was entirely wrong.

Danny sometimes wondered what it would have been like if she had stayed dead that day in the lab. 

Would the portal ever have been opened? Would she have met any of her friends on the other side? Would certain enemies have come into play without her there?

Would she have been missed?

Was she now?

Was she ever?

Lightning branched across the stormy sky, and as the thunder rumbled in her chest, a breeze carried something past her ears.

“Danny.”

Danny spun around, searching for the source of the whisper, but the hall behind her was dark and empty.

“Don’t worry, ma’am, I’m here to save you.”

“Sorry, pal, but it looks to me like you’re the one who needs saving.”

Two voices echoed and twisted together. Danny frowns, part of her recognizing them.

“I’m totally winging it with love for you! Marry me!”

“Whoa, slow down, gorgeous. We haven’t even finished our first date!”

A woman’s laugh echoes off the walls as the hall spins, throwing Danny onto her back.

“I won’t let anything happen to either of you.”

“Do you promise?”

“I pinky promise.”

Two different laughs twist together and shift and contort into a guttural creaking sound that sends Danny to her knees, only to once again be thrown as the hall spins.

“Don’t do that. Don’t quit because of me.”

“I’m quitting for you. For both of you. For us!”

Danny begins making her way down the hall, grabbing onto whatever she can as everything shifts. The creaking morphs into a horrible groan.

“El, please, I want to help you.”

“You can’t. No one can.”

The shifts in the hall become more violent.

“She’s gone into labor. We need to take her to a delivery room now.”

“No! Not yet! He needs to be here. I– we need him!”

 Then Danny sees it. At the end of the twisted and mangled hall, stood a woman. Blood dripped from her hospital gown, pooling at her feet, and her eyes, dead and void of color, stared straight into Danny’s.

She slowly turned and walked through a door. Danny jumped onto her feet, and as she took one step forward, a head-splitting scream shook the walls, the floor, and deep within her core. Panting, Danny continued on, bracing herself on the wall. The screams continued to ripple through her, becoming more and more desperate.

The grief and fear within them grew the closer Danny got to the door.

When she stepped through, it was like her head had been pulled underwater. The room was empty except for a bed in the middle, but the echoes of cries filled the empty space. Danny finally knew where she was.

A hospital.

“I’m scared.”

Danny gripped her chest.

“Please, please, I need him. I can’t do this alone.”

Tears prickled in Danny’s eyes as she turned around, trying to find the source of the voice. 

“She’s bleeding out. We need to get her to the OR–”

A cry from a baby makes Danny sob.

“No! Please. Please let me hold her, please...”

Blood drips from the hospital bed. A song joined the echo. A song Danny didn’t know she knew until she heard it. She whimpered as it resonated in her core. The woman’s singing is quiet, but full of love and so much grief. So many feelings went through her, and so few words to describe them. Safe. devastation. Home.

But the song soon ended, and the silence that followed was cold and hollow.

The lights flicker in and out as a clear flatline fills her ears.

“Time of death, 2:42 AM.”

Danny fell to her knees as a woman appeared in the bed, dead, tears still in her eyes.

Unfallen.

“Where is she?! Let me through!”

The door burst open, and footsteps hurriedly entered the room. Danny turned to see a wispy figure standing behind her. His blue eyes vibrant despite his faint image.

“No. NO!”

He rushed to the woman’s side, holding her face in his hands. His sobs wrack his body, knees going weak and failing him. His cries hit Danny like a hammer, the grief holding her down.

Two more figures enter the room. They linger in the doorway for a moment, they slowly approach the bed. 

“Chum, you have to let her go.” The larger man places a hand on the grieving man’s shoulder. The younger man fights it, hitting the larger man in the face, who doesn’t seem phased. 

“Son, I’m sorry. She’s gone.”

He finally manages to pry the younger man away from the woman, holding his weak body in a tight embrace.

The larger man nods at the younger boy, who moves to take the crying baby from the woman’s arms. He bounces as he shushes the baby, tears falling down his cheeks.

“Hey, Ellie. I’m you’re uncle. I promise, I’m never gonna let anything hurt you. You’re safe.”

Everything shifts suddenly. The room changes, no longer a delivery room, but a hospital room for an infant. The storm still surges outside, the power is out, and the room is only lit by two candles. In the chair, faced away from Danny, sits a man. The same one from before and still barely visible. He shushes the baby as it fusses. His quiet cries can be heard.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t there. I broke my promise. And now…”

He presses his lips to the baby’s forehead, and Danny crawls to her feet and steps forward. She looks down at them, eyes blurry from tears.

The room shifts once again, but it settles into chaos. Doctor and nurses surround the infant bed, the man watches from the corner of the room, arms clutching his chest in desperation

“Charging. Clear!”

A zap of electricity. Flatline.

“Again!”

Zap. Flatline.

“C’mon! Again!”

Zap. Flatline.

No one moves. The father jumps to his feet.

“Please! Please, don’t stop. Save her!”

The doctor looks at him sadly. 

“I’m sorry, sir. Time of death, 6:16 AM.”

The father falls to his knees, and the room around him fades away, leaving only him and Danny in an expanse of white and linoleum floor. Then, slowly, he too fades away.

The cold linoleum floor is all that remains. Danny stares at it blankly as tears freely flow.

“What was that?” She asks.

“I think you know.”

Danny looks up at Clockwork, lips pressed into a thin line and tears in her eyes. She’d felt him there, watching distantly.

“Why?” Danny choked.

Clockwork looked out at the vast landscape of linoleum with contempt.

“You wanted answers. Your subconscious found them.”

Danny floated to her feet, body surging with anger.

“What? That my– my mother is dead? That– That I’m–” She can’t finish, the words unable to be spoken. 

Danny shakes her head, turning away and shoving her wrists to her eyes. “This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair! I came to Gotham to find family, and instead I found death!”

Danny punches the ground, a crater forming. A sob racks her body.

“Everywhere I go, there is death.” She sinks into a pile on the floor. “I don’t understand. Someone– someone help me understand.” She whispers.

Clockwork’s jaw twitches as his eyes remain forward, refusing to look at her.

“I once met a man who told me that our hardships aren’t sent to destroy us, but are sent to show us how strong we are.”

Danny looked up at him as Clockwork met her eyes, a small smile appearing on his aged face. She sniffled and looked away.

“Any other infinite wisdom you have to offer, Mr. Know-it-all?”

Clockwork’s smile softened as he shifted into a child.

Danny and Clockwork look up as several birds and bats fly overhead. A black and blue one swoops down as Danny holds her hand out. It lands on her finger, tilting its head at her.

She copies the action, then it takes off again. Clockwork turns to Danny.

“Follow the birds, Danny. They will lead you home.”

The linoleum floor faded away as dark clouds filled the space. Raindrops fell onto Danny’s face as she closed her eyes, and soon it was pouring and she was alone.

Again.

Chapter Text

It had been nearly three weeks since Danny had started observing Red Hood.

It had been a week since she’d started helping him, invisibly, of course.

Therefore, technically, not there.

It was purely a coincidence that there were a few times when a thug might’ve accidentally tripped on air, providing Red Hood with an advantage. One time, by some miracle, a gunman’s bullets simply… fell out of the magazine. 

Red Hood painfully noticed. He freaking thanked the air around him for Ancients sake!

Since that moment, he’d talk to her while on patrol. He started calling his invisible helper his ghost.

Oh boy, the irony tasted bitter.

Even with his outer monologuing, it proved difficult to suss out what Red Hood was thinking. His underdeveloped core didn’t send out the signals that Danny could understand. They were too covered in muck for her to make sense of them.

Danny still wondered what fresh ectoplasm would do for him.

She added that to her list of ‘Vigilante Mess’ to take care of, alongside getting Red Robin a resume and making her OTP between Spoiler and Orphan a solid, canon ship.

Tonight wasn’t unlike any other. 

It was raining.

Red Hood was itching for a fight. 

Danny was anxious.

The warehouse he and Danny sat across from was quiet. Any passerby would see it and think it was some old, rusty, unsuspecting mill that would give you tetanus if you even breathed within its walls.

But Red Hood knew better. 

And Danny knew too much.

The air around the building was heavy with agony. The humidity it gave off left both Danny and Red Hood in a cold sweat, making breathing difficult.

Red Hood hadn’t moved an inch since he settled on the rooftop across from the warehouse. He made no noise, except for the consistent click of his gun’s safety. 

On and off.

On and off.

On and–

Danny suddenly gets an overwhelming sense of recognition. It sends her reeling, stumbling back, silently, unseen. She whines as a burning settles in her chest, fear filling her up, and nausea slowly making its way up her throat. 

Her eyes find the warehouse as the world spins.

The walls the floor everything spinning spinning–

Rationality forgotten, Danny runs, leaping off the rooftop and half-flying down to the ground in front of the warehouse. She runs in, mind blank except for the desperate cries to protect– protect– protect! PROTECT!!

It needed to be saved. She needed to save it. Someone needed to save her it.

It's cold. And Dark.

She can see her breath. Can hear her heart in her ears. Can feel the tears on her cheeks.

Sharp metal and lights–

The clouds shift, allowing a sliver of moonlight to light up the warehouse. Her eyes find barrels in the corner of the space. She takes one, heavy step forward.

Begging and screaming and–

Danny swallows down bile. It comes right back up, burning her throat.

Jars lined up in a neat row, organs in each one–

She reaches the barrels, placing one shaking hand on the lid.

Blood on the floor, the walls, the ceiling–

She pulls, but it resists. A whimper fills the space. She tries again.

A mirror. They put up a mirror so she can watch–

It opens. A puff of freezing air hits her, frost forming on her face.

Ribs. She can see them. She can see everything–

Danny shakes her head in disbelief. This– This can’t be true. It can’t. 

She counts. Seven barrels. She didn’t need to look to know what was in them. She could sense it. The one before his has layer upon layer of vials filled with the same, angry, sickening green substance.

It can’t be true.

It can’t–

“Freeze. Or I’ll freeze you.”

Danny turns, and two glowing red eyes watch from the shadows. It shifts, stepping forward, a gun raised directly at Danny. Mr. Freeze reveals himself, a scowl on his face. Danny blanches as his gun surges with power.

“Those don’t belong to you.” He sized her up and glowered. “You’re with Batman, aren’t you? One of his little spies.”

Danny desperately searches for an exit, but the only one is the way she came in. The door behind Mr. Freeze.

“Chill out!” He says cooly, gun raised higher. “I’ll send Batman your regards.”

The gun goes off, ice filling her vision.

“Get down!”

Danny screams as she's thrown to the ground. Gun shots ring out, and when she opens her eyes, she finds Red Hood in front of her, sending a barrage of bullets at the pillar that Mr. Freeze hid behind. He looks over his shoulder at her, pausing only for a split second before turning back to the fight. 

“Get behind cover! I’m about to run out of rounds, and the moment I do, he’s going to hit hard. Brace yourself!”

Danny looks around, deciding that the best cover is behind the stack of barrels. Red Hood swears as his guns run empty. Mr. Freeze steps out, firing a line of ice, but Red Hood manages to get behind the barrels in time. Red Hood huffs as he reloads and peeks over the barrels.

“Ha! Smart. He won’t want to damage whatever he’s got in these.”

Danny goes stiff as Red Hood looks at her. “Nice to finally meet you, Casper. Been waiting for you to show your face.” 

Danny doesn’t have time to process before Red Hood hops up again, sending a barrage of bullets, forcing Mr. Freeze to back away.

“Casper.” Danny looks at Red Hood. “I’m a little busy, so I can’t find us a way out. Think you can handle that?” He glances down at her.

Danny gapes for a moment, then sets her head straight and begins to search for an exit route.

Behind them is a reinforced wall, next to them, more barrels. On the other side is another concrete wall. Below them, wood flooring. Danny looks between the cracks. There's a space under there.

Danny bites her lip, eyes darting between the barrels, Red Hood, and the floor. She doesn’t want to leave the barrels here, but Red Hood could die if he doesn’t get out of here, and it would be her fault.

She has to protect him.

“I found a way.”

Red Hood drops down by her side, reloading and tossing the empty mags away.

“Where?”

Danny doesn’t have time to answer. Mr. Freeze jumps on top of the barrels.

“Got you now!”

“No!”

Danny throws herself over Red Hood as the freeze gun goes off. She pulls on her intangibility, and together, they fall through the floor.

Jason sat down at his dinky kitchen table with a sigh. With a pop, he opened a beer and leaned back, rubbing his face. He took a hearty swig, then looked into his bedroom across the room. The door was open, and on his bed was a girl.

A girl who looked too much like his brother, and eerily similar to someone he used to know.

Jason took a swig of his drink and pulled out his phone. His finger hovered over a name, twitching as he struggled to decide. Should he call him? 

The girl stirred in her sleep, a quiet whimper that subsided as she settled.

He should.

Right?

This girl had been following him around for almost three weeks and didn’t even question it. It was stupid and a massive risk, but all he knew was that whatever invisible force stuck by his side during patrol calmed him. It made the pits shrink, and it washed away the anger. He didn’t want to say anything and ruin it, but now, more than anything, he wished it had never happened.

He was okay with not knowing who was helping him. He was okay with them following him into danger.

He was okay with the fact that, somehow, his invisible friend had died too.

He wasn’t okay with it now.

Fuck , he hated it now.

Jason sighed and downed the rest of his drink.

He needs something stronger.

The moment he saw her, the world stopped spinning.

Everything from her black hair, the freckles across her nose and cheek, to the piercing blue of her eyes screamed echoes of them. That determination spark in her eyes, despite being full of fear, reminded him so much of her , but that unmistakable flare of Lazarus green in them reminded him too much of himself.

The self-sacrificing predisposition seemed to be genetic, too.

He should have been faster. Maybe if he had seen it coming, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Maybe if, all those years ago, they had all been there sooner…

Jason squeezed his eyes shut; the memories still burned there, haunting him.

The guilt gnawed at him every day and terrorized him every night.

He should call him.

His eyes find the girl again. He shouldn’t stare. 

But how could he dare to look away? What if she disappeared again? Would he ever find her again?

Everything about her was impossible. She was here and alive. 

She was alive. 

Alive.

She had found Jason. She had abilities, and somehow, she wasn’t in critical condition after taking such a hard hit from Mr. Freeze’s gun.

He wanted to take her to a hospital, but the fear and desperation in her eyes when he suggested it made him hesitate.

But it was the screams for mercy, for them to stop don’t touch me please I’m sorry please don’t do this I’m good I swear I’m good–

That's what solidified the decision to keep her by his side.

Jason shook his head, swallowing the bile that had built up in his throat.

He should call him.

Why can’t he bring himself to do it?

Jason stands, pacing twice before pulling out his phone and–

He turns, swiftly and silently shutting his bedroom door.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Jason turns to face Batman, not even attempting to hide his disgust.

Batman grunted.

“It’s been six hours, and you have failed to report on the incident at the old mill.”

Jason scoffs, striding across the room to grab the bottle of the good stuff, as he liked to call it.

“I don’t answer to you.” He took a long swig, then pointed at Batman. “I called Babs to send someone–”

“Hood, need I remind you that we only use code names–”

“Oh, fuck that!” Jason slams the empty bottle down on the table. He glowers at Batman, jabbing him in the chest with a finger. “And fuck you.”

Jason turns, taking another beer. It was times like these he wished alcohol affected him.

“Hood, you need to debrief.”

“The fuck I do. I–”

“Someone is here.” 

Jason halts, eyes darting between Batman and his bedroom door, which had slowly crept open. He quickly stood between him and the door, shutting it and making sure it clicked shut this time.

“Hood–”

“You need to leave. Now.” Jason could tell his eyes flared that sickening green by the way Batman’s jaw tightened.

“This isn’t up for debate–”

“You’re right, it’s not. Leave. Now. I will debrief with Dick later. Now leave, before I make you.” This time, Jason can see the flare reflect off the lenses of Batman’s cowl.

“Hn.” Batman’s gaze lingered for a moment, then he turned, leaving out the same window he came in.

Jason waited until he was sure he was gone, then rushed to the window, slamming it shut and closing the blinds.

He sighed, dropping into his couch with a heave.

The ceiling taunts him as he thinks, then, finally, he makes the call.

“What do you mean it's gone ?!”

“I dunno man! Luke said the moment he opened that vial, whatever was inside corroded into nothingness. Just gone!”

Tim was going to have an aneurysm. 

It was the middle of the night. He was just a hair away from falling asleep when Duke called on the phone Tim had hidden from Alfred. He’d argue this was a valid reason not to sleep.

“Things don’t just become nothingness , Duke.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. If you’ve got a problem with it, you can call Luke.”

Tim rubbed at the migraine that had formed on his head. He set his phone down and dug in his sock drawer to find his hidden stash of Excedrin. He pops two pills, praying that the caffeine kicks in fast.

“Is there any good news?”

“Uh… Oh! Steph and Cass went to a warehouse that Jason called in. There were more of those vials. I guess Mr. Freeze had some of those barrels, and that's what's in them. He must’ve missed some when he packed up shop.”

Tim’s eye twitched.

“Why the hell didn’t you lead with that?!”

Chapter Text

Danny woke with a start, clawing at her neck to get the collar off, but–

It wasn’t there.

And neither were the chains around her wrists.

She wasn’t in the lab. She wasn’t trapped in that small cage that burned every time she touched it.

There were no people in white lab coats. No screams of agony.

She was alone. She was in a bed. She was warm. She was in Gotham. 

The ache in her back radiated through her as she shifted. She bit down on the whimper that tried to claw its way up her throat, carefully turning her body to slip off the bed. She gave it a nasty glare. Who has their bed that high off the ground?

She’d need to make sure Red Hood knew he was a total weirdo.

Danny froze as the floorboard under her creaked.

Where was Red Hood?

What had even happened?

She remembers Mr. Freeze. She remembers the barrels. She remembers the barrels–

Danny shook her head and took another step forward, lighter on her feet this time, making no noise. As if she weren’t even there.

She supposes Red Hood would be returning soon. Beyond the obvious of the circumstances, Danny knew this was his home. Or part of it anyway.

The dinky dirty apartment was bare minimum. The overly tall bed was all that sat in the bedroom, and the living area, if you could even call it that, only had a small, possibly moldy loveseat. 

The kitchen seemed to be in the best shape, Danny noted. Newer appliances, clean-ish walls, and counters. Her nose picked up on mouth-watering smells from the fridge, and she had to force herself not to walk over.

She held her sore shoulder as she stood in the middle of the space, taking it in, in its entirety. A bookcase sat against a wall across from the bedroom, and next to the door to which Danny assumed was the bathroom. She stepped closer to the bookcase, noting the wear on each book. She recognized some titles, a twisted expression settling on her features. Nostalgia, annoyance, or sadness. She wasn’t quite sure.

The Great Gatsby.

To Kill A Mockingbird.

Pride and Prejudice.

She picked up the last one, thumbing through the worn pages. This one seemed to be the most well-loved. The spine was nearly broken, being loosely held together by some tape and a prayer. She was just about to put it back when she saw the note scribbled on the very back page.

Semper recordabor, 

Acta non verba

-B

Danny pursed her lips at the words, silently wishing she had paid more attention in Mr. Lancer’s Latin lessons.

But she had more important things going on back then.

Like trying not to die… more. Or running from vivisection-hungry scientists.

That worked out so well for her.

Danny let out a breath, setting the book back in its place. She blinked the tears from her eyes and bit her cheek to distract herself from the memories.

Her eyes slid to the bathroom door, mulling over her options.

She could run. Leave without a trace. Never show her face to anyone ever again. Maybe see if the Arctic still has Yetis. Maybe lounge around in the snow with penguins. Surely her human half could handle the cold, right?

Space seemed like it could be a homey place. She could hitch a ride on an asteroid to the next galaxy. Then again, it was much too crowded up there for her now… She’d want to go to space to be totally and completely alone.

Did she want to be alone?

She could never go home. 

Never see her friends again.

Never see Jazz again.

But she did have friends on the other side. She could try to find her way back into the ghost zone, but that idea didn’t seem particularly appealing either. The moment she’d go back there, her half-life as a free spirit would be over. The crushing responsibility that was waiting for her over there wasn’t something she wanted.

Even though she knew it was inevitable.

Danny itched at her middle finger to get rid of the tingle of anticipation.

She huffed and looked back at the bathroom door.

She had another option…

She could stay. She could take a much-needed shower and scrub away all the grime that had built up over the months of torment. She could eat real food and not the scraps she finds in dumpsters. She could sleep in a real bed, and not just from being unconscious. 

Ancients, maybe she could even find her family.

If they even wanted her.

Danny swallowed the lump in her throat and squeezed her eyes shut.

Breathe, she reminded herself.

And so she did.

Danny decided a shower was a good first step.

She’d figure the rest out when she got there.

Danny swiped at the mirror, clearing the condensation. Her face was paler than she remembered it being a few months ago, and her skin was sunken in around her cheeks and eyes. Which, given the situation, wasn’t a shock, but it didn’t lessen the sting. She knew she didn’t look good, and in all honesty, this was probably an improvement from when she’d first crash-landed in Gotham.

The cuts and bruises around her face were nearly gone; only faint undertones of purple and yellow were visible. The cut on her lip was lightly speckled with blood, which she carefully dabbed at with the towel. It should heal in the next day or two.

Hopefully.

Her eyes slid down the Lichtenburg figures that crept up her neck. She followed them down to her left hand and she traced the center point with her finger, sending a shiver down her spine. Her hand clenched around the mark.

A portion of her hair fell into her face. She moved to tuck it behind her ear. It's longer than she’d normally let it get in the past. Danny’s eyes met her reflection again, pulling her still-wet hair over her shoulder. 

While she was with… them , they took so much of her. Danny could only be grateful they didn’t take her hair. She knew how stupid it must be, to be glad she still had hair after… everything, but she’d think she’d be forgiven for having some semblance of vanity.

Danny began to braid her hair.

The towel was tied around her chest, but Danny could still see the beginning of the angry scar in the center of her chest. It radiated heat, like it was battling some sort of infection. Danny didn’t think it was possible for her to even get infections. Human ones, anyway. Her body was suspended in the space between the freshly dead and the beginning of decay.

She still feels bad for the times Sam and Tucker would complain about the stench of death, how it seemed to follow them everywhere they went… 

They apologized after they discovered the truth. Danny still felt bad.

With her braid tied off with a piece of fabric from her too-far-gone shirt, Danny tossed it over her shoulder.

Slowly, she pulled the towel away. At first, all she could do was stare. It was a whole other experience to see it on full display. She didn’t want to see it at all, but it needed to be treated.

With shaky hands, she touched the skin around the injury. It was hot and spread out with an angry red. It hurt. It hurt so much that she couldn’t stop the tears.

Or the whine that sounded from the back of her throat.

Danny pulled on her core, ignoring the way it cried and ached as she did so. Her hands radiated with a cool blue as the ice eased the pain. She breathed out in relief. She wished she could just keep it like that, but she knew the moment she stopped feeling was the moment her body would go beyond repair.

So, she pulled open the first aid kit she’d found in the cabinet under the sink. It was well stocked, far beyond any in-home first aid kit she’d seen. Which made sense. Red Hood frequented this apartment. He’d need supplies if he got hurt.

Danny used to have safe zones. Way back in the beginning, when she did everything alone. Before Jazz found out. Before she’d have someone be there to help her if she got hurt. To hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay.

It wasn’t okay now.

And Danny didn’t have anyone to hold her.

So, she was back to doing it all alone again.

The hydrogen peroxide fizzled as it came into contact with her skin. Danny ended up making her split lip worse from how hard she bit it due to the pain. But she carried on. Once it was clean, she added some antibiotic cream, then carefully added a few layers of gauze pads.

Her back was mostly healed. Red Hood must have treated it while she was unconscious. She didn’t know if she should find comfort in that.

Once she was satisfied with her patch job, Danny pulled the towel back around her and peered her head out of the bathroom door. The apartment was just as empty as when she’d woken up. It was getting light outside, too.

Danny didn’t know if that meant she’d been out for a few hours… or days.

Silently, and with a bit of levitation, she made her way to the bedroom quickly. The door shut behind her with a click. Her eyes found a dresser against the wall on the other side of the bed. She must have missed it earlier.

Danny crept over and carefully pulled a drawer open. It was a mess of clothes, but each drawer seemed to be dedicated to a different person. Danny figured this was for if any of the other vigilantes had to crash here.

A couple of drawers seemed to have clothes more geared to Danny’s size. She took a black long-sleeved shirt, along with some jeans and undergarments.

She tried not to think about how she’d be wearing some heroes’ underwear.

Out of curiosity, she opened another drawer, and the first thing she saw had her eyebrows knitting together. Danny pulled out the black hoodie with lines of blue. She knew these colors. From where she couldn’t quite place. It still felt important, though.

Danny pulled all the clothes on, relishing in the feelings of being clean and warm. She held the hoodie to her nose and breathed in the smell. It had hints of cologne. A warm, misty smell. It was a comforting smell.

She looked through the small closet and found some shoes that were close enough to her size that they wouldn’t hurt, and took an empty backpack from the top shelf. Danny traced over the red arrow iron-on patch. It looked familiar.

She shrugged and threw it on the bed along with a jacket from the closet. She grabbed a few more things from the drawers and stuffed them all into the backpack.

The kitchen was the next thing to be raided. She shoved a slice of pizza in her mouth as she looked through the cabinets.

Maybe this was stealing. 

Maybe Danny didn’t care.

Being what she was was technically a crime in itself, Anti-Ecto Acts and all. In the grand scheme of things, stealing was probably the smallest thing on her future rap sheet.

Destroying everything and everyone in an alternate timeline was somewhere high on that list.

An old box of stale Frosted Flakes was stuffed into her new backpack, along with a stick of jerky and a box of instant mashed potatoes. There was a lot of food in containers in the fridge, but Danny didn’t feel like stealing someone else’s food again.

She finished off her pizza and grabbed a couple of bottles of water from a cabinet, tossing them into the backpack. Danny also grabbed an empty notebook from the back of one of the drawers. 

She’ll definitely use that later.

Danny went back into the bathroom and threw all of her medical trash into an old garbage bag, making sure to wipe down any surface that had her blood on it. She was already stealing; she didn’t want to destroy Red Hood’s bathroom with her corrosive blood, too.

She tied off the bag and stuffed it and some extra medical supplies into her backpack.

Danny scanned the room and nodded to herself.

The window behind the moldy loveseat was easy enough to open, but much to Danny’s disappointment, it was four windows over from the fire escape. 

She was too high off the ground to attempt jumping down. In this state, she’d only end up hurting herself more. She eyed the distance between her and the fire escape and shrugged. 

Should be easy enough.

She buckled the strap across her chest to make sure the backpack stayed, then shimmied out onto the windowsill. Danny moved her body until she was comfortably perched there, hanging on the top of the open window with one hand.

Danny rocked back and forth, testing the strength of the window. It should hold.

Danny swung once, then twice, and launched off the windowsill. She just barely reached the bottom of the fire escape, and her chest screamed in pain as her body was stretched uncomfortably. Danny gritted her teeth and swung her legs harder, the momentum giving her enough power to swing backward and up. Her landing was far from perfect, but she still stood on the platform all the same.

She rubbed at her chest, rotating her bad shoulder. That wasn’t as easy as she remembered it being. Back in Amity, before the accident, Danny did competitive gymnastics. People used to call her a Flying Fenton, like it meant something more than just a silly name. Jazz had explained that there used to be a family called the Flying Graysons that were acrobats in a circus.

Danny thought it was funny.

Until she learned that the parents had died in a tragic accident.

After her own tragic accident, her parents pulled her out of gymnastics. They had insisted she go through extensive testing until they deemed her safe.

Now that Danny thought about it, they probably wanted to make sure she was still human.

They didn’t check enough, Danny supposed.

They definitely knew now.

Danny finally made it to the rooftop. Her gaze lingered on the sunrise for a moment, but she turned and continued on.

Her rusty water tower was calling her name.

And she had a resume to make.

Chapter Text

Danny felt like she was melting.

And honestly, she probably was, ice core and all.

Today, according to a passing car’s radio, it was in the mid-80s. It was humid and sunny and hot. All things that added up to a puddle of half-dead goo.

She woke up feeling sick because the humidity and heat were doubled in her little water tower, so she was left to find shelter somewhere cold.

The sewers were a no. She tried that last week. 

How was she supposed to know a monster lives down there?

A loud grumble has Danny pausing. She’s somewhere in Crime Alley. She thinks. Everything is spinning.

Her hand goes to her stomach as she lets out a whine. She can’t remember the last time she ate. 

Danny looked up and down the street and swore. Not even a pretzel cart in sight. In fact, she hasn’t seen anyone in a while. Even the shades cling to the shadows.

She shrugged and continued on. 

Must be the heat.

After crossing the street, a smell reached her nose that had her mouth watering.

“Is that…” She sniffed, turning. “Movie popcorn?”

Danny remembers the last time she went to the movies.

It was the last time she, Tucker, and Sam hung out before…

Danny shook the memories away as she stopped walking. She stared up at the entrance to Monarch Theater and tilted her head.

It looked abandoned. 

It didn’t feel abandoned.

She didn’t care.

She wanted popcorn.

The doors were chained shut.

Lucky for Danny, doors didn’t apply to her.

The inside of the theater was dusty and thankfully, not hot. Her core gave a shuddering sigh of relief as Danny sighed. A puff of cold air escaped her lips as her ghost sense alerted her to someone behind her.

Tense and ready to fight if need be, Danny turned, but was taken aback to see a normal, seemingly kind lady standing there.

Her back was to Danny, but her clothes reminded Danny of something she had seen in an old movie. Her hat was the same color as her dress and coat, and the pearls that hung from her ears and around her neck made Danny think she was, emphasis on was, wealthy.

“Uh, sorry. Did I intrude on your haunt? I can leave–”

The woman turned, shock evident on her face. Her form flickered, revealing a bleeding wound on the left side of her chest and a face of pure horror and fear. A scream had Danny’s eyes ringing as she averted her eyes.

“You– You can see me?”

Danny shrugged and scuffed her shoe on the ice that formed at her feet.

“But I’m–”

Danny looked at her, eyes flaring a familiar green.

“Dead? Me too.” Danny huffs. “Sorta.”

The woman looks at Danny with pity. They stand in silence briefly before–

“Would you like some popcorn?” The woman extends a popcorn bag out, a warm smile on her lips.

Not long after this, Danny and the woman, now known as Martha, sat in one of the top boxes overlooking the theater. They both ate the popcorn as they watched other shades dance across the stage, flickering in and out of visibility. 

It was oddly nostalgic.

It was oddly… comforting.

Danny used to do this, with her mom– with Maddie. Before, they hated her. Before, they wanted her dead. Before–

Danny flicks away the frozen tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Martha, what do you miss the most?” Danny’s voice was quiet, barely a whisper.

“About being alive?” 

Danny nodded.

Martha’s sigh was heavy. 

“My family. My husband– He is rarely able to visit me now. I think it’s harder for him to come back. It’s hard… after resting for so long. I can’t really blame him. The rest is nice, but–”

“Something is keeping you here.”

Martha nods at Danny with a sad smile.

“What about you? What do you miss most, Phantom?”

Danny pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

What did she miss the most? Jazz. She definitely missed Jazz. And her friends.

And–

Her parents.

There was a time, a long time ago, that they loved her. At least, she thought they did. 

Her dad took her to the park once. He pushed her on the swing. Then there were their fishing trips. He taught her to fish, in between his attempts to track ghosts. Danny couldn’t really blame him much. It was his life’s work.

Her mother was good to her. Taught her how to defend herself and how to wire a circuit board. She’d even allow Danny in the lab and color while she was working. Always working. It wasn’t so bad when they forgot to feed her. Jazz always brought her something from dinner.

Danny had her own little hideout in the coat closet. She would spend hours in there, imagining she was an astronaut in outer space on a mission to save the world. Jazz would join her sometimes, and, most of the time, while they were together, the distant shouting was easier to ignore.

Danny was certain they loved her. It was just the ghosts that changed things. They took her to the space museum once. It was just a coincidence that they went on Jazz’s birthday; she was sure of it.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker had great fun as kids before Danny’s accident. They had this epic treehouse deep in the woods, deeper in than the lab where the Fentons lived. They’d spend hours out there. Playing on their Game Boys, making plant potions that Sam was certain would give them powers. It was perfect there.

Danny would go there sometimes.

To escape.

She barely remembers those days when her parents would bring her down to the lab. It was so long ago.

But sometimes, Danny would still get jolts of pain in her spine. The needles they’d use were so big, and the gas from the tank made her feel like she was flying. It helped. Sometimes.

It was for her safety. She was sick. 

They just wanted her safe.

That’s all.

They loved her.

…right?

“-antom? Sweetie? Are you alright?”

Danny’s eyes snapped open. It took her a moment to pull herself back to the present. When she finally collected herself, she saw that the entirety of the top box was covered in a thick layer of ice, and Martha was on her knees in front of Danny.

She looked very concerned.

Why?

Danny was fine.

“I’m– I’m fine. Sorry. I just– sorry.” Danny willed the ice back into her and wiped away the tears frozen to her face.

Martha didn’t look convinced.

“Sweety, is there someone who can help–?”

Danny froze as the door to the theater swung open. 

Martha stood, ready to defend Danny, but as she saw the person entering, a smile spread across her features. “He’s here.”

Danny leaned over the edge to see the man walking in, popcorn spilling out of the bag as she did so.

“Shit, shit–”

The man turned, and Danny ducked just a second too late. He saw her.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

Danny didn’t so much as breathe, hoping he’d leave.

But, much to her dismay, she heard him step closer. “I see you got into the popcorn machine. I have to say, I’m surprised it still works!”

There is a pause, and then–

“I’m sorry if I startled you. It’s okay to come out, I promise I don’t bite.”

Danny wasn’t convinced. Every ghost that said that to her had bitten her before. How was this any different?

Danny looks at Martha with a frown. The woman crouches next to Danny. “It’s okay. He’s a good man.” Martha’s eyes glimmer with unshed tears, that sad smile back on her red lips. “I should know. He’s my son. His name is Bruce.”

The man, Bruce, speaks again. “You know, popcorn isn’t all that filling. Are you hungry?”

Martha nodded her head to the side as a sign of encouragement. Danny grumbles, but stays hidden.

“I’m fine.”

Her stomach lets out an ungodly noise.

“...Are you sure?”

Danny hung her head. Betrayed by her own stomach.

“Phantom,” Martha starts, startling Danny. “You can trust him.” 

Danny looks at her with pursed lips. 

Trust. She says it like it's so easy.

But… 

Danny’s head turns to where she senses Bruce below her. She doesn’t sense any malice. More… Concern.

What’s she got to lose?

Well, everything. 

But…

“There wasn’t anything else to eat.” She says, hesitantly.

Bruce chuckles. “Well, the theater has been closed for many years.” He pauses. “I’m actually quite shocked there was popcorn in the machine.”

Danny averts her eyes, even though he can’t see her. She wasn’t about to admit it was ghost popcorn.

“You know, there is a Bat Burger not too far away from here. Would you care to join me?”

Danny’s stomach growled again. Martha was no longer next to her. She was now standing by Bruce.

“It’s too hot outside. I don’t… I don’t do well in the heat.”

“Ah, I see. It was smart to come here then! It’s rather chilly.”

Then, Danny hears him mutter, “I’m positive the AC went out last summer.”

Danny’s cheeks heat up, embarrassed. She didn’t mean to make it frigid in here. Her body was just overcompensating for how hot she got earlier.

“I have an idea! I can have my Butler Alfred grab us some to go and bring it here.”

Butler? 

Danny scowls. Ancients, she hopes this rich guy isn’t like Vlad.

A pit forms in Danny’s stomach just thinking about him.

Does he know what she did?

Footsteps.

Danny whirls around just in time to see Bruce walking up the stairs. She scrambles into the shadows, willing them to hide her.

Her eyes squeeze shut as memories of a large, black haired, blue-eyed man standing over her. He has a knife– a scalpel, and she's screaming and begging and–

“Is it right if I join you? These are the best seats in the house.”

Danny lets out an ice breathe, heart skipping beats and jumping around sporadically. She looked to Martha, who gave her a reassuring smile. Danny looked between Bruce and Martha, weighing her choices. She didn’t have many. Martha trusted him. He wasn’t the man holding the knife. She wasn’t there anymore.

“I suppose.”

Bruce smiles and moves to sit towards the top of the box.

“This okay?” He asks.

Danny slowly wills the shadows to recede as she nods.

“S’fine.”

Bruce nods and looks out at the theater. He lets out a heavy sigh with a sad smile.

“I haven’t been up here in… 39 years.”

Danny glances at Martha, who now sits next to Bruce. She can see the similarities. They have the same eyes. Martha’s form flickers again.

Danny looks away. 

One of the many downsides of her powers.

“What’s your name, kiddo?”

Danny raises her eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m a kid?”

Sarcasm was a good defense mechanism, right?

Jazz would say otherwise.

Jazz wasn’t here.

Bruce chuckles, glancing at her. He’s not fully looking at her. Maybe because of the shadows around her. Maybe because he knows she’s scared.

“I have five of my own and I’ve raised a few others. And, apologies, but I don’t think many adults would break into a theater just to have popcorn.”

Danny looked away and grumbled, caught out.

“I didn’t break in.”

Bruce hums. “I suppose that is true. I got the motion alert, but none of the doors or windows were breached. Rather impressive.”

Danny perks up at that. “Do you… own this?”

Bruce nods, looking at her. “I bought it years ago, and after restoring it, I had it registered as a Historic Landmark.”

Danny looks at Martha. Bruce notices her looking beside him, but doesn’t say anything.

If this is Martha’s haunt, then that means she died nearby. It’s important to her. And based on the haunted look in Bruce’s eyes, he was there when it happened.

A man steps up the stairs and clears his throat. The shadows soak up Danny once again. Bruce and the man notice, but don’t say anything.

“One of everything, as requested, Sir.”

Danny eyes the man with the posh accent. He’s wearing a fancy suit and looks very much like your stereotypical butler.

Bruce takes the take-out bags. “Thanks, Alfred.”

“Of course. Shall I wait in the car?”

“Please. Thanks again, Alfred.”

Alfred turns and leaves quietly.

Bruce holds out a bag to Danny. “Help yourself!”

Danny hesitates, but the growl in her stomach pushes her out of the shadows. She stands, arms crossed over her chest. Bruce stares at her for a moment, his features full of emotions that Danny can feel in waves.

Recognition. Fear. Grief. Confusion.

Guilt.

She hangs her head and steps closer, taking the take-out bag from him and sitting three seats down from him. The silence is only broken by rustling as Danny digs through the bag.

She frowns, then almost smiles.

“Night-wings? Batmanwich?” She bites her lip to fight a laugh as she pulls out another box. “Jokerized fries?”

Bruce chuckles as he pulls out an Ivy Salad. “It is rather funny. I’ve heard rumors that Robin is campaigning for more vegetarian and vegan options.”

Danny takes a hesitant bite out of her Jokerized fries and is surprised by how tasty it is. She continues to eat, and then Bruce breaks the silence.

“I don’t think I caught your name.” 

Danny slows chewing, not looking at him.

“My name is Bruce.”

Without thinking, Danny speaks.

“I know.

Bruce pauses, eyes shifting to her with that strange glint of recognition.

“Martha told me.”

Bruce’s body goes rigid, and Martha looks at Danny in shock.

Danny quietly picks the tomatoes off her Batmanwhich.

“Who– Who told you?”

Danny shrinks in on herself, feeling all too seen. 

“Martha.” She whispers. 

Bruce stares at the seat next to him. Martha turns to her son, tears in her eyes. She looks to Danny. “Can you– Can you tell him– I miss him? His father and I both miss him so much. We’re so so proud–”

Danny stands, panic rising in her chest.

“I should leave. Thanks for the food–”

She turns, but Bruce catches her hand. Her eyes flare brightly as the fear in her chest seizes.

“Don’t touch me.”

Her hand is free from his grasp, and she stands away from him.

“I’m sorry, I just–”

Danny looks at Martha. “He just wants to understand.”

Danny’s eyes dart between them, panic continuing to rise in her chest.

“Here!” Martha pulls the flower that was pinned to her coat. “Give him this. Please. If nothing else, just give him this.”

Danny stares at it, and then at Bruce. He’s talking, but the panic has reached her ears, and all she can hear is ringing.

The lights flicker.

Then Danny is gone. 

Bruce whips his head around, searching for her, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Where she once stood is a white rose, covered in a fine layer of ice. Bruce tentatively picks it up, and a chill runs down his spine. It’s delicate. It’s cold. It’s alive.

It’s impossible.

Bruce closes the door of the car, eyes locked on the rose in his hands.

“Are you quite alright, sir?”

Bruce shakes his head. “I think… I saw a ghost.”

Alfred raises an eyebrow. “Metaphorically?”

Bruce shakes his head again, then lifts the rose for Alfred to see.

“Oh, my. Is that…?”

“It is.”

Alfred gives Bruce a knowing look.

“Shall I prepare the adoption papers, sir?”

“...I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

As Alfred pulls away from the curb, Bruce takes his wallet out and pulls an old photo out of one of the hidden pockets. In the photo are three people. Jason is a victim of a noogie at the hands of Dick. Both are smiling. Behind them is a girl. A girl with brown hair and blue eyes and a face Bruce never thought he’d see again.

Chapter Text

Danny was not doing well.

Not by a long shot.

She had royally screwed up at the theater, and to put it lightly, she spiralled.

And spiralled bad.

A section of the subway tunnels was now frozen solid, but Danny didn’t have a panic attack. It was just a strategic release of her powers. She’d unfreeze it later and issue a sincere and anonymous apology.  She was fine.

Everything was fine.

At this point, even she was struggling to accept the gaslighting. But what other option did she have? She’d survived this long ignoring her problems.

“This isn’t surviving, Danny.” Jazz would say.

Yeah, well, Jazz isn’t here right now. 

Needless to say, it had been a long 24 hours, and the night was still young. 

She had been making her way back to her water tower when she saw it. 

Gotham City Archives

Danny would have continued walking by without giving it a second thought, but the logo had caught her eye.

A bird was in the center, wings outstretched, with a scale above its head. 

Danny stared for a long time. The bird stared back. 

She could have sworn it smirked at her.

Taunting her.

It probably was.

Danny thought back to what Clockwork had said, and got that familiar tug at her core when she found the meaning in his warnings. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, Danny knew something bad was going to happen.

“Follow the birds, Danny. They will lead you home.”

Home. What even was home anymore? It certainly wasn’t the lab where she grew up. It wasn’t the Infinite Realms. Would they even welcome her there again? She sealed off the portal for good. 

She could try to portal there, but she was too ashamed to face them.

Was she even reading into this correctly? The birds he referred to could very well have been a random city pigeon, but Danny didn’t particularly want to follow one of those around.

Danny read the building name again and pursed her lips— city archives. 

Answers. 

If it were true, and she was born in Gotham, then wouldn’t her birth records be stored there? Maybe she could find the original of her birth certificate. Maybe she could find her father.

Maybe find a home. If there was even one waiting for her.

Hope. 

What a pathetic feeling.

With a sigh and a glare at the sky, Danny began walking up the stairs to the building.

It was much past business hours, so going in invisibly was the best course of action. She’d learned her lesson from the theater.

It didn’t take long to find the store room in the basement. It had rows and rows of rolling shelves. They were alphabetized, thankfully, so at least Danny wouldn’t spend the next 10 years searching.

But where to begin?

She didn’t know her last name. But she knew her birth mother’s middle name. It was a start.

Danny rolled the shelves open under the letter J and began her search. The birth records had nothing, which led Danny to believe her mother wasn’t born here. But this was her place of death, so Danny switched over to the death records and found the binders of the month and year her mother died.

October 1999.

It took a while, but she finally found it.

Eliana Marie Jordan, DoD, October 31st, 1999, 2:42 AM.

Danny traces the letters of her mother’s name, vision blurry from tears. She knew her mother died from giving birth, but seeing it in print was like a knife to the chest. She died because of Danny. It was her fault.

There was so much she wanted to know. So many questions and so few answers. It wasn’t fair. None of this was. Her mother should be here, not Danny. It wasn’t meant to be like this. None of it was. Danny was supposed to be dead twice over, it seems. She should be with her mother, not here, somewhere between alive and dead. She was a freak of nature. She was cursed. She had to be. 

Before Danny put the binder back on the shelf, the lights switched on with a crackle of electricity. Heavy footsteps made their way towards her, and in her panic, Danny dropped the binder. She couldn’t leave it there; it wasn’t right. She had to put it–

“Freeze! Drop the binder! Hands on your head!”

Danny had nowhere to run. Nowhere a human could run to, anyway. How did they know she was here? There’s no way they’d know– she was careful! She really was–

“I said drop the binder! Now!”

She heard a click of a bullet entering the chamber of a gun. She could take a bullet, right? She’s dealt with worse. She’s had worse, right?

Right??

“I said–” The binder was ripped from her arms, and before she knew it, handcuffs were tightened too tightly on her wrists, and she was being read her rights.

Ha.

Rights.

That’s funny.

If only she had those.

Dick was not doing well.

Not by a long shot.

At this point, he was struggling to pretend, and his siblings were beginning to notice.

Damian especially. 

Last week, he demanded an answer from Dick as to why he was acting so, in his words, “pathetic.” Dick certainly felt pathetic. He wanted to tell him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. What was he supposed to say, anyway?

Hey gang, sorry for the depresso extresso, I’ve just been grieving the death of my dead fiance and daughter, who you never knew about. Oh, did I mention that said dead daughter may be alive and exposed to the pits and injured somewhere alone and scared in Gotham? Did I mention how I failed them both multiple times, and I’m still failing? 

He was exhausted.

He’s been searching every day and night, but just two people searching could only do so much. Jason was working himself ragged. The violence was beginning to remerge. He was blaming himself for losing her. He had only been gone 30 minutes, and by the time he got back with Dick in tow, she was gone. 

All she left behind was a bloody piece of gauze under the bathroom counter. 

They tried to have the blood tested, but by the time they brought it to the Batcave, it had literally melted. Just gone. Which wasn’t concerning in the slightest.

It made Dick feel sick.

He needed help. He knew he did. But talking about it was like reopening an old, painful wound. 

He knew Babs would help, but he didn’t want to drag her down the road again. He didn’t want to upset her. He wasn’t the only one who lost a lot that year.

Bruce was… Bruce. He never spoke about that night. Dick couldn’t really blame him. He was the target of Dick’s anger as he went through the grief. And he took it. He was the punching bag Dick needed. It meant a lot to him, in hindsight.

Dick was gearing up to go out and patrol when his phone rang. He ignored it, but when it went off again, he frowned and grabbed it out of his coat pocket.

His frown only deepened at the name on the screen.

Comm’r Gordon

A pit formed in his stomach. He never called, especially on his civilian phone.

Dick answered.

“Hello?”

“Get to the precinct ASAP. You’ll… You’ll want to see this.”

The moment Dick arrived at the Gotham City Police Department, Gordon wordlessly guided him to the observing side of an interrogation room. Before they entered, Gordon stopped and turned to Dick.

“Just…” The look in his eyes was tired, haunted even. “Prepare yourself.”

Dick frowned, but entered the room regardless. 

“Listen, kid, we’re trying to help you.”

“Uh-huh, sure, and I’m Batman.”

He froze, letting out a shuddered breath. 

“You know, it’s against the law to interrogate a minor without a guardian present.”

Dick couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Well, if you’d be so kind, then give us their number so we can get them here.”

After all his searching.

“Sure thing. You got a pen? Great, it’s 1-800-YOUR-MOM.”

A laugh of disbelief. Here she was. 

Gordon knocked on the glass to stop the detectives. As they left, the girl stuck her tongue out at them.

The detectives entered the observing room, clearly annoyed. 

“Good luck with that one. She’s a pain in the ass.”

Gordon grunted and took the manila file from them. They left, leaving Dick and Gordon alone.

“You’re seeing it too, right?” Gordon asked hollowly as he stood next to Dick. The latter nodded.

“What happened?” Dick asked, voice quiet. The girl was staring at the one-way glass, not blinking. It was almost uncanny. She couldn’t see them, though.

Right?

“She somehow managed to get into the archives without setting off any alarms. We received an anonymous tip.”

Dick wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or worried.

“Anonymous tip?”

Gordon grunted. “Green sticky note on my desk. Just said, ‘break in at the archives’ and under it was the time she was arrested.”

Dick’s frown deepened. He’d have to look into that later.

“What are her charges?”

“Unlawful entry. She didn’t try to take anything. She was caught with a binder in her hands.”

“What binder?”

The girl still hadn’t blinked. Dick could have sworn her eyes were going between him and Gordon.

“...Death records. Under the letter J.”

A lump formed in Dick’s throat. 

“How did you know to call me?”

“Beyond the obvious? She had this in her pocket.”

Gordon handed Dick a business card. A small bittersweet smile tugged at his lips.

On that back was a familiar note.

You aren’t a bird-en, give me a wing!

“If you release her into my custody, will you drop the charges?”

Dick looked back at the girl. She wasn’t watching anymore. She wasn’t in her cuffs anymore either.

Huh.

“I can make this whole situation disappear. Just… feed the girl. And find out what the hell is going on.”

Dick nodded and put the card in his pocket.

“Thanks, Gordon.”

Dick walked out and stood on the outside of the interrogation room door. He took a long, slow, deep breath, then entered.

The moment their eyes met, Dick momentarily forgot how to breathe. 

“Oh.” Is all she says.

Dick quickly pushed aside his feelings and sat down in front of her.

“Aw, don’t sound so disappointed. I thought we were friends!”

Danny gave him an unamused look. His heart took a hit. That was a very familiar look from a face he missed every day.

“We met once.”

Dick shrugged. “True. But we bonded over food, and in my opinion, food is a one-way ticket to the soul.”

Danny grumbles as she slouches in her seat, muttering something under her breath. Took this as an opportunity to look her over. The bruises and cuts that littered her face when they first met were faded now, but the circles under her eyes were still dark. Her cheeks were a little fuller, which was good. It meant she’s been eating, even if it's just a little. His eyes landed on the Nightwing hoodie she wore, and his heart skipped a beat. It was definitely her. Jason checked his safe house, and that was one of the few things she took with her.

“I was going to come in here and remove those cuffs, but it seems you beat me to the punch.” He nodded at the cuffs on the table and Danny’s hands, clearly not in them.

She pulled her hands off the table and sat up straighter. “They weren’t on tight enough, I guess.” She muttered, rubbing at her raw wrists from where the obviously tight cuffs were. Dick will have words with the arresting officers. And the detectives. And anyone who put her in pain.

Unfortunately, that list may be longer than he thinks.

From what Jason told Dick, she was a meta with an array of abilities, invisibility and density shifting among them. It could explain how she got out of the cuffs.

But.

Those were meta cuffs.

One more thing to worry about.

And of course, the exposure to the Lazarus Pits, but that was a can of worms Dick didn’t want to unpack. 

“...Am I going to jail?” She asked, voice quiet. Dick took notice of her pinching at her left thumb.

It made his heart ache.

“No, you’re not going to jail.” He offered a small smile, and her eyes shot up to him. “But, I can’t just let you go either. They agreed to drop the charges if you are released into my custody.”

She gave him a suspicious side eye.

“Why? I don’t know you.”

Dick shrugged. “No, but it’s not safe in Gotham, and you’re a minor.”

She grumbled about her words being used against her.

“Or, you can tell me where your parents are.”

Danny crossed her arms over her chest and averted her eyes. Defensive body language. She’s nervous.

“Dead.”

She doesn’t seem convinced by her own words.

“Do you have any family we can call?”

A heavy sigh. Her eyes look anywhere but at Dick. “No.”

His lips press into a thin line. “What’s your last name, Danny? Maybe we can look–”

“No!” Danny slams her hands on the table, eyes full of fear, and Dick swears, for a split second, flare a hauntingly familiar green.

“Please– Please don’t, I can’t– I can’t go back.” Danny stands and crosses her arms, breathing sporadically. Dick raises his hands and offers her a small smile. “Okay, alright, no problem. We won’t.”

Danny stops pacing in the corner and stares at Dick. He doesn’t move, making sure his posture is relaxed. He doesn’t want to spook her. He feels very spooked. All of this is adding up to a scarier picture, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Danny slowly nods.

Dick’s frown deepens. “Danny, is there someone after you?”

She froze. Dick noted the temperature change in the room. He shivered.

“There are people who can protect you.”

She scoffs and looks up, blinking away tears. “No one can save me.”

Dick barely heard her say it, but at this point, he needed her to trust him and feel safe. It was a priority, not only for her safety, but… This was very likely his daughter. He was sure of it. 

“How about we get outta here, yeah? I know a great coffee place nearby that has the best hot chocolate.” He offers a laid-back smile and nods at the door.

Danny glances at the clock. “It’s nearly 1:30 am.”

Dick smiles and slowly stands. “Lucky for us, it's open around the clock. What do you say?”

Danny’s eyes scan her surroundings, sighs, then nods. 

“Okay.”

Danny wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but she was too tired to think.

And hot chocolate did sound amazing.

The Magic Beans & Brews Café was indeed open late. And it was decorated to the nines with Halloween decorations. There was a ghost animatronic decoration by the entrance that made crackling noises that must have once been your stereotypical ghost noise, but lost its voice to time.

Little bats and ghosts hung from the ceiling, and the windows had fall leaf garlands mixed in with orange string lights.

The menu was Halloween-themed, too. It almost made Danny want to enjoy the holiday.

Almost.

“It’s still September,” Danny muttered as she eyed the cupcakes that looked like cauldrons. 

Dick places a hand on her shoulder, making her jump. He quickly removed his hand.

“Freya, the owner, she’s big into holidays. Pretty sure she celebrates SamHain.”

“How many times must I remind you. It’s pronounced, saawn, Dick.”

A woman walks out from the back, drying her hands on a rag. She had darker skin than Danny, and her salt and pepper hair was twisted up in a messy bun and had streaks of pink, purple, and orange. One of her eyes was a striking blue, while the other was a dark brown. Danny couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows.

“Freya, lovely to see you as always.”

Dick guided Danny up to the counter with Freya. She looked at Danny with a smile, then a frown pulled at her lips. “Is she your–?”

“Do you mind whipping up two of your hot chocolates? With extra whip?”

Dick gave Freya a meaningful look. Danny didn’t catch the meaning. Freya glanced at Danny again, then her smile reappeared. 

“Sure thing. Can I get you anything else, hon?”

Danny shook her head.

“Alrighty then, two hot chocolates, extra whip comin’ right up.” Dick tried to hand over a bill, but Freya stopped him. “No, it’s on the house.”

“You’re sure?”

“Take it as a thank you.”

Dick heaved a sigh and nodded. “Thanks, Freya.”

Danny and Dick picked a booth in the corner of the café. Danny eyed Freya working with pursed lips. She’s met a witch before, granted, the one she met was centuries dead. Freya wasn’t exactly trying to hide what she was. Danny sensed it the moment she came in. 

But in this world, maybe she didn’t need to hide it. There was a superhero who was a witch, right? 

Gee, must be nice, not being hunted and hated for just being what you are.

“After this, we can head over to my apartment in Blüdhaven and get some shut-eye, then in the morning we can talk.”

Danny nodded, looking anywhere but at him. She didn’t like that look in his eyes when he looked at her. It was off-putting, like he was looking at a ghost. Which, yeah, he was, but he didn’t know that. 

“Where have you been staying? We can stop by on the way so you can grab whatever you need.”

Danny didn’t have much to her name. Certainly nothing that she hadn’t stolen. It was tempting to grab that backpack and her notebook at least, but she didn’t want to reveal her hideout to Dick. She’d have to get it some other time.

“No, it’s fine. We can just… go to your apartment, I guess.”

Dick frowned. Danny pretended not to notice.

“Here ya go, sweets.”

Freya placed their hot chocolates in front of them. Danny muttered a thank you and sipped her drink. It was the best hot chocolate she's ever had–

“Ugh, damn spirits invading my shop. I just saged yesterday!”

Danny’s hot chocolate was suddenly coming out of her nose as she coughed. Dick and Freya stared at her in disbelief. Freya handed her a napkin.

“You okay, there? Do you sense them too? Oh gosh, you must’ve. Poor soul. Let me get you some black tourmaline. It’ll help.”

Danny tried to say no, but Freya was already walking away.

“You okay?” Dick said with a chuckle.

Danny could only give him a thumbs up as she rested her head on the table. 

“Don’t mind Freya. She’s always going on about ghosts and vibrations. I know not everyone believes that stuff.”

Freya comes back with burning sage and a crystal for Danny. “There you go, hon. It’ll fix you right up.”

Danny was now sneezing.

“Oh dear… That’s not a good sign. Have you been experiencing any symptoms like chills or loss of time? I can help. Ghosts tend to lock onto vulnerable people, but it’s nothing I can’t handle–”

Danny couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up and rushed to the bathroom, locking it behind her and falling to the floor.

Great, the coffee witch thinks she’s got a bad case of the spooks.

Just what she needed.

After Danny was able to stop sneezing and coughing– who knew she was allergic to sage– she got up and walked over to the mirror. It had those little window sticky things on it. There were ghosts and a few boo’s among a mummy and a zombie. This place was mocking her.

She sighed and splashed some water in her face. She looked a little better than the last time she saw her reflection. That was what, two weeks ago? Danny couldn’t remember. The days were a blur. She wondered if Red Hood was okay. She’d jumped in the way of the blast in time. She hoped she did at least. She should check on him. From a distance. 

She’s also been meaning to find Red Robin and check on him, too. She’s checked, but hasn’t seen him yet. Maybe while she looks for Red Hood, she can look for Red Robin. Two birds with one stone. One bat, one bird with one stone? Nah, the first one was better.

But first, she’d have to deal with Dick. Maybe she could sneak out while he was sleeping. That could work. But… maybe one night of sleeping in a bed wouldn’t hurt. And maybe some food?

Yeah that was the plan. She’d leave after food and rest and then–

Danny’s brow furrowed as she got closer to the mirror. She lifted her upper lip and stared in shock at her teeth. When had they gotten so sharp? Did they grow out, too? How long have they been like this?

She pulled her bottom lip down.

“Shighht.” She grumbles as she moves around her lips. The bottom teeth were sharper, too. She knew as Phantom her teeth were sharper, but she’d never have thought it would happen to her human half, too.

She poked at her upper canine and pulled her finger back to see a bead of blood. Just one more thing to add to the growing list of–

Knock knock.

“Danny? You okay?”

Dick. Danny sighed and turned the faucet on to wash away the blood.

“I’m fine. Can we just– Can we leave? I think I might be allergic to Freya’s ghost repellent.” 

She heard Dick chuckle. “Yeah, we can go. I’ll ask for to-go cups.”

She waited for him to walk away, then she let out a breath. Then, after one more splash of water to the face, Danny walked out with her hood up. Dick was waiting by the café door, and with one goodbye to Freya, they left.

Dick did not have a car. He had a motorcycle. And only one helmet.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I can call for us to take a cab. I wasn’t expecting company.” Danny sized up the motorcycle with a shrug.

“‘S’fine. I’ve ridden as a passenger before.”

Dick blinked at her. “Really? With who?”

“Johnny 13. He’s got killer road rash.”

“What?”

“What?”

Danny needs to get better at keeping her mouth shut. 

“Heh, kidding!”

Dick didn’t seem convinced.

“Let’s just go. Please. I’ve had a long day.”

Dick sighed and nodded. “Fine. But you’re wearing the helmet.”

“Home, sweet home,” Dick said as he flicked on the lights.

Danny’s eyes scanned over the open space. Simple. Nicer than Red Hood’s apartment by a long shot. It was much more open than his, too, but Danny couldn’t help but notice that there wasn’t much personality to it. Like one could grab and go if need be. Then again, what did Danny know? She lived in a laboratory her whole life.

There were some family photos on the walls. They looked happy. Looks can be deceiving. Danny knew this better than anyone.

“Here, you can wear these if you want.” Danny looked at the folded clothes in Dick’s hands. “They’re my sister’s, but she won’t mind.”

She tentatively took the pajamas. The pants were soft and had little teddy bears on them. The top was a purple long-sleeved shirt. 

“Thanks.” She mumbled, once again feeling guilty about stealing people’s clothes.

“If you want, you’re welcome to shower any time. The guest room has its own.”

Danny nodded.

Dick stared.

It was awkward. 

“Can I get you anything–”

“I think I’m going to–”

They paused. 

“You go ahead–”

“Sorry, you can–”

They paused again.

“I was going to ask–”

“Can I maybe–”

This was torture.

Danny bit her lip, and Dick laughed, and zipped his lips, gesturing for Danny to speak.

“I’m just going to go to bed. I uh–” Danny met his gaze, and quickly looked away. “Goodnight.”

She hurried off to the guest room and shut the door. Danny waited until the lights in the main room were turned off and Dick’s footsteps receded before sighing and collapsing face-first into the bed.

After lying there for a while, Danny eventually got into the PJs and crawled into bed.

Before she fell asleep, though, she faintly heard Dick speaking. She had to strain her ears to hear, but she was certain she heard him say, “I found her.”

She could be wrong. She was too tired to care.

Just one more thing for her to deal with later.

For now, sleep.

Chapter Text

“Honestly, O, this is a bit of overkill,” Tim grumbled as he fussed with the camera on his chest. 

“Red Robin, I stuck my neck out for you to go back out on patrol. Instead of complaining, you should be thanking me.”

Tim rolled his eyes and crossed his arms while grumbling, “Thanks.”

This isn’t how he imagined his first day back on patrol would go. He should have been out here weeks ago, but Bruce insisted he get more rest, as if 5 hours of sleep wasn’t enough. That was like, a whole 3 hours more than he’d normally run off of!

Tim would try to get information about the city and cases while he was grounded by his siblings, but no one would budge except, shockingly, Damian.

Last week, his younger brother had let it slip that if anything, things were slow. It wasn’t much, but it was more than anyone else was willing to offer. Slow was good. Slow was safe. Manageable. 

But it left a sour taste in Tim’s mouth. Gotham was never slow. Ever. That familiar feeling of dread in his belly was only growing day by day.

He was hoping it was Bat Paranoia™.

“Besides, the camera isn’t for you. It’s for me. I’m sending you on a recon mission.”

Tim perked up at that. “What for?”

His wrist computer pinged with a location and satellite imaging. It was on the Gotham docks.

“I’m not entirely sure. There were reports of suspicious activity around the docks two days ago, then all movement stopped. I need you to go find out why.”

Tim was already on the move, hopping on his motorcycle and riding off.

“Have you checked the cams?”

Babs scoffed, annoyance lacing her tone. “I’ve tried, but all of them within a two-mile radius have gone offline. All at the same time.”

Tim frowned as he maneuvered through the midnight traffic. If there was one thing you could rely on Gotham to have, it was traffic. And villains. And crime.

“Are you thinking signal scramblers?”

Babs hummed. “Initially, yes, but this is different somehow. I can see on the cams, but it's like the image is heavily distorted from fogging.”

“Fogging? You mean like–?”

“Radiation? Yeah. I checked on the BatSat, and while there has been an uptick of radiation in the city, it’s nothing that can cause harm. Or cause cameras to do this. It’s different.”

“That’s still concerning.”

“Believe me, I know. I’m hoping it's just a signal scrambler. Okay, as you approach, I need you to go in stealthily. We don’t know what's going on in there. Be prepared for anything.”

Tim slowed his motorcycle into an alley before the docks access point, then shut off the engine. He checked over his gear to make sure everything was secure, trying not to get bitter about his staff. Ever since his interaction with dumpster girl, he couldn’t stop thinking about improvements that he had no idea how to make. 

She made it seem like it would be easy.

As if she could do any better than him.

As Tim made his way deeper into the harbor, he made sure to cling to the shadows. So far, there wasn’t anyone around besides the harbor master doing his rounds and a drunk making a ruckus on his boat. Further, Tim found a larger shipping boat. Around it was dark, like the light didn’t want to touch it.

“Okay, dark, suspicious boat, let's see what you have to offer.”

Tim began scaling the side of the boat with the help of the climbing claws on his gloves. It was harder with his ribs still recovering, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to say that. When he was finally on the boat, however, it was as if he had stepped into a vacuum. The air was cold and stale, and he couldn’t hear the sounds of the harbor. Even his own breathing sounded distant.

That's not good.

“O, I’m on board.”

Static.

“Oracle, do you copy?”

Nothing. 

That’s extra not good.

Tim frowned and adjusted the camera. Hopefully, she could still see. 

He knew he should probably turn back and regroup to make a better plan, but he was already here. He couldn’t turn back now. Not for his own sanity.

The top deck of the shipping boat had four armed men on guard. They all wore stark white suits. Tim noted the normal firearms on their hips, but he couldn’t recognize the weapons in their hands. They seemed bulky and heavier to hold. He saw accents of green and silver from a distance.

They all seemed to have their eyes towards the sky, rather than at the dock. Perhaps they were expecting an aerial attack? They seemed to be guarding a small box of a similar color scheme that emitted an eerie whine that had Tim’s arm hair standing straight up. It reminded him of something he couldn’t quite place. Something dark and disturbing.

It sent a chill down his spine.

He continued on and found a door that led to stairs going down. It was faint, but he could almost hear the sound of shouting. Talking? Screaming? It was too distorted to tell. Tim debated going down, but decided that not being boxed in with who knows what down there wasn’t a good idea. Contrary to popular belief, he did have critical thinking skills.

A further search of the boat ended with Tim finding an open shipping container. Tim slipped in and turned the night vision in his mask on. Large crates lined the walls. An open one to his left had a layer of filler on top, but after he swept it aside, that horrible pit in his belly dropped.

Gingerly, Tim lifted the item out of the crate. A collar. It was heavy and smelled of ozone and burning chemicals. Two prongs on the inner ring were black, and Tim was sure they were designed to deliver a shock. The connecting joints were bent and snapped. It reminded Tim of when Conner would break and bend metal like it was rubber. 

He traced his finger along he corrosion that had formed on the rims. It looked almost like acid had chewed away at the metal alloy. His eyes landed on an engraving. 

PZ40-1

Tim’s heart was beating rapidly in his chest, but he set the collar down and continued to the back of the container. With no way to contact backup and the looming unknown beneath his feet, he knew he had to gather all the information he could before leaving.

A crate in the back caught Tim’s eye. It was smaller, and this one was locked. With a glance at the entrance, Tim stuck his staff between the lock and bolt and twisted. It left his staff at a bad angle. Just one more thing to improve.

Tim removed the lock and pulled the crate. In it were files, labeled by date and some other code he didn’t understand. He grabbed three from the middle. The first one he opened had a transcript from a dissection. It was graphic and ruthless. It went into detail about body parts, responses to stimuli, and much more that Tim didn’t have the stomach to think about. The worst part, though, was the ignorance from the examiner as the subject seemed to beg for mercy.

As he went on, the more concerned he grew.

The second file had something far more horrific. Photos. His hands shook as he looked from one photo to the next. Organs in jars, smears of what Tim believed to be on the floor. Hands. Teeth. Hair. One horror after the next. One of the last ones Tim grabs has bile rising in his throat. A figure floating in a vat of liquid, tubes connected to various body parts. Tim could almost make out the face. Pure terror. Pain. 

Tim swallowed the bile and shoved the photos back into the file, then folded the three files in half and stuck them under a layer of his Kevlar. 

Outside, the boat lurched, and a loud horn echoed and warped through the air.

“Shit.” 

He checked for any other open crates and found another on top of the rest. He opened it and pulled out the first thing he could get his hands on, then ran out. 

“Double shit.” He muttered as he saw several men turn towards him. Tim ducked behind the containers as bullets began to fly.

"Shit shit shit!"

He eyed the burning bullet hole by his head. “Okay, bullets have acid in them now. Great. Fucking awesome.”

While using the shipping containers as cover, Tim noticed how far from the docks they were. Too far to grapple. 

“Oracle, do you copy?”

More static. Tim was now $60 in debt to the swear jar.

With no other option in sight, Tim looked down at the water below. “Here goes.”

Tim put his rebreather in his mouth and jumped.

Bruce was so gonna kill him.

Dick woke up to screaming.

Ear-splitting screams of pain.

“Danny.”

He grabbed his gun and ran to her room. Heart pounding, he flicked the light on and found Danny alone, clutching her throat in pain. He rushed to her side and grabbed her shoulders.

“Danny? What’s wrong?!” She shrieked at his touch and jumped, no, floated away from him onto the ground.

Dick stood, arms out and palms open to her. “Danny. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe. It’s just a dream.” He took a step closer, pausing when she began to fade from view, green eyes blazing. Dick turned the light off, then got on his knees to level with her and show he isn’t a threat.

“Danny, you’re safe. Breathe, sweetie, breathe.” Dick coaxed, but Danny was too panicked to hear him. Frost crept up the walls around her as she clutched her head, breathing erratically. Her eyes darted around frantically. 

Dick ignored the shiver going through his body.

“Breathe, kiddo. I’m here. Look at your surroundings. Can you do that? What do you see?” 

Danny’s eyes darted around, landing on a few things, Dick being the last. 

“Good, good job. Keep trying to calm your breathing, like this:” Dick took a slow, deep breath and exhaled slowly and steadily. “Can you try that for me?” Dick did it again as Danny tried, but her breathing was interrupted as another pain jolted through her.

Dick tried to swallow the ball that had formed in his throat. This wasn’t about him, right now.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we can keep trying. Alright? Feel. What do you feel, Danny?” She squeezed her eyes shut. Her arms went to her shoulders, then to her arms. She squeezed the sweatshirts. She shoved her face into her arms. “Good, can we try that breathing again? Try it with me, okay?”

Dick guided her through the breath. She got further into that one than the last.

“There you go!” Dick sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “Okay, next is hearing. What can you hear, Danny?” Dick inched forward, and when she didn’t flinch away, he got a bit closer again. Her eyes found his briefly, and he smiled.

“Me? Yeah, I’m right here. Just you and me. We’re safe. Breathe with me, ready?”

She manages three full deep breaths with Dick, and then he says, “Good, match my breathing, okay? Perfect. You got it, sweetie. What about smell? What can you smell? Try to see as you breathe in.”

Danny's eyes landed on his briefly before shoving her face back into her arms. Dick inched a bit closer, still guiding her breathing. She was still shaking, but now her breathing was more under control.

“Taste. Do you taste anything?”

Danny lifted her head, sweat beading on her forehead. She licked her lips. Dick’s eyes widened at the sight of blood. “Can I grab you a towel for that? And some water?” Danny nodded, hiding her face again. “Okay, I’m going to get up now. I’ll be slow.”

Dick slowly stood up, then rushed out of the room and grabbed a water bottle from his fridge and a kitchen towel. He took a moment to take a deep breath of his own to collect himself. He can’t help her if he’s upset.

“Danny? I’m back. Can I come in now?”

He waited, then Danny made a strained noise. Almost a whine. Dick took it as okay.

Dick slipped into the room and eyed the frost on the ceiling and walls. Ice had formed on the wall behind Danny. 

“Okay, I’m going to come close now, alright?”

Slowly, he approached her. “Water or towel first?” He held them up. Danny nodded at the water. Dick handed it to her, but it froze upon her touch. Danny whined and curled up on herself, snooching away from Dick. 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’ll melt, and I’ve got plenty more.” He set the frozen water bottle on the bed. Dick weighed the situation before him. Whatever had woken her up was causing her pain, and Dick wanted nothing more than to take it all away, but to do that, he needed to get her to a doctor or to someone who could help her. Based on her reaction earlier in the night, she didn’t want anyone looking into her past, so if Dick were to get her help, she would need to trust him first. Dick could call Jason again, but Danny knew Red Hood, not Jason. He couldn’t introduce a new person to her this soon. Maybe he could arrange a meeting between Nightwing and Red Hood.

The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. He’d found her this time, but there was no guarantee he’d be able to again. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not again.

“Danny, is it okay if I hug you?”

She peered at him from behind her arms. Her eyes weren’t green anymore. Dick took that as a good sign.

“Why?”

Dick’s brow furrowed. “I want to help you–”

“Why?” She stressed.

Dick’s mouth snapped shut. What kind of question is that? She’s his daughter, of course, he wants to help her. He may not have a DNA test to confirm it, but Dick can’t explain it; he just knows. He knows Danny is his daughter. Some way, somehow, his daughter is alive. But– Dick realized, she doesn’t know that. To her, he’s a stranger. Just the cop who gave her a get out of jail free card. 

Dick sighed and sat down, leaning against the bed.

“My daughter.” Danny peered at him with curiosity. “She… she died as a baby. I never got to watch her grow up. I didn’t get to–” Dick cleared his throat, blinking away tears. “I wasn’t there. It may sound selfish, but maybe I can be somewhat of the father I was meant to be for her, by helping you.” He turned to her and smiled, eyes full of tears.

Danny stared at him for a moment, eyes glistening with her own tears. Then, slowly, she scooted closer to him. Dick opened an arm, and after only a moment's hesitation, Danny leaned into his side. He smiled and rested his arm around her. He handed the towel to her, and she held it to her mouth.

Dick let out a slow breath, easing into a more comfortable, relaxed position. Danny seemed to do the same. For a few minutes, there was silence, besides the steady breathing Dick emphasised so she could match him. His mind was racing with so many questions. So many unknowns. He wanted to know everything and yet…

Those green eyes.

He didn’t want to know. No, that's not right; he didn’t want it to be true. Because the truth hurts too much. Everything hurt too much. None of this was fair. None of it is right. Dick didn’t know where to begin to find the truth, and he wasn’t about to betray the little trust Danny had afforded him. He promised not to look into her past, and he meant it.

Baby steps. He could do this.

“Danny?” She looked up at him. “I’m not going to ask any questions, and you don’t have to tell me. But if you ever want to, I’m always here. For anything.” He smiled at her, noting her eyes dancing between his chest and eyes. Whatever she was looking for, she seemed to have found it and relaxed further into his embrace.

“Sorry about your walls.” She looked up and then down. “And ceiling. And floor.”

Dick chuckled and tilted his head at the front. “Don’t worry about it. It’s actually rather pretty.”

Danny gave him that look again. That look that went past his eyes. Like she was looking into his soul. Then, she met his gaze.

“Really?” She asked quietly. “No one's ever said that before. I’ve always been told it's…” She paused, sadness settling in her eyes. “Dangerous. Scary.”

Dick looked at the frost again, then smirked at her. “A spoon can be dangerous or scary if you try hard enough.” Danny snorted. That’s a win in his book.

“My point is, whatever it may be, power, skill, knowledge, it all comes down to how we use it. Whoever told you your abilities were dangerous or scary is wrong. They just didn’t take the time to see the beauty.”

Danny stared at him, unmoving, unblinking. She almost looked confused, but then, she closed her eyes and rested her head against Dick. He smiled and closed his own eyes. He only opened them when he felt the tickle of something on his face. Snow. She made it snow. Dick held out his free hand to catch a snowflake. It was beautiful. Just like her. He saw the edge of a smile on her lips. 

They stayed like that the rest of the night, until well into the morning. Dick savored every second of it.

Chapter Text

Dick, carrying four large bags of groceries, gracefully and quietly closed the front door with his foot. His footsteps across the floor were silent and calculated, stepping in all the right places to avoid the floorboards creaking. After he puts the groceries away, he makes his way over to the guest room door and cracks it open just a hair.

He breathes a sigh of relief. She was still there, sleeping.

His quick trip to the grocery store was a last-minute decision after realizing he was out of just about everything, and his milk was more solid than liquid. Can you really blame a guy? It’s hard to remember groceries when 80% of your time is spent fighting crime. 

It felt wrong leaving her, but he knew he couldn’t exactly feed her without actual food. He could tell she was thin, despite how large his hoodie was on her. He got everything he could think of at the store, which was probably overdoing it, but better to be overprepared than under, right?

As Dick began prepping for breakfast, his mind wandered to last night.

And how scared she was.

What was it she said? “No one can save me.”

Eliana had said something similar to him while she was pregnant with their daughter. Dick remembered how she always looked over her shoulder, how she’d rather not sleep than deal with the nightmares that plagued her every night. He tried everything in his power to help her, to reassure her that she was safe, but even after she found out he was Nightwing, she was still scared.

She always talked about a them. How they would always find her. How she never safe. How no one could help her.

After they both died, Dick threw himself into finding answers. He became paranoid, even blaming the ‘them’ Eliana always feared for her and their daughter’s deaths. Babs dug into her past hoping to try and find answers but… nothing. Not even a birth certificate. It was as if the love of his life hadn’t even existed. 

Even to this day, there was a small part of Dick that suspected foul play. He and Bruce would argue about it. The Medical examiner had identified Eliana’s cause of death as postpartum hemorrhage, and Elizabeth’s cause of death as heart failure as a result of a congenital heart defect.

None of it was meant to happen. Eliana wasn’t meant to give birth at that hospital; she was meant to go to the manor, where a team of qualified doctors and nurses was going to help during the birth. The night she went into labor was the night Bruce and Jason took down Two-Face. She was meant to be with them, but she insisted she’d be okay. She insisted they go.

Then the storm took out the power across the city, and she was left alone and in labor. Somehow, an ambulance managed to find her and took her to the nearest hospital. None of the staff listened to her when she demanded to go to the manor. None of the staff called Dick. He found out too late, and by the time he got there, the love of his life was gone.

And his daughter was gone not too long after.

A heart defect. It didn’t make sense. They did all the screening. They checked everything. She was meant to be a happy, healthy little girl. She was meant to be alive. They both were.

He grieved them for almost 17 years, and he would have grieved for the rest of his life. But then Danny appeared, and once again, nothing made sense. 

This time, he was going to get to the bottom of this. He was going to find his answers, and he was going to make whoever did this pay.

But first, he had to take care of his daughter.

“Is that bacon?”

Dick whirls around, pancake mix splattering across the floor, counter, and Danny. 

How did she sneak up on him?

Danny snorts and swipes up a drop, licking it. “Not bad.”

“Danny, you scared me.” Dick breathes as he sets down the bowl of pancake mix.

She shrugs. “Sorry. I do that a lot.”

Dick chuckles despite his racing heart.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoy pancake mix. I can only hope they turn out good once they are cooked.”

Danny sat down in one of the kitchen island chairs as Dick placed the plate of bacon in front of her. She took a bite of one and moaned in delight at the taste. Dick beamed with pride. Can’t go wrong with bacon.

“Don’t worry about it too much. As long as the food doesn’t try to eat or attack me, I’ll be happy.”

“What?”

Danny only waved him off and ate another piece of bacon. “Long story.”

Dick wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear it.

“So Danny–”

Dick’s phone rings. He grabs it and frowns, seeing Baraba’s name flash across the screen. She doesn’t normally call, especially at this hour.

“Sorry, I have to take this.”

Dick walks into his room, Danny’s eyes following him as he goes.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“We need you at the cave now.”

“Is everyone okay? What happened?”

“Everyone is fine, just get here and we’ll explain.”

Dick ran a hand through his hair.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I have something going on right now. I can’t make it there. I’m sorry.”

“Dick, what–”

He hung up. He’ll probably regret that later, but he has more important things to worry about than Barbara’s wrath.

“Sorry about that, just work stuff.” He says as he walks back into the kitchen.

Danny shrugs. “S’fine.”

A beat of silence, then-

“Your pancakes are burning, by the way.”

Dick swore as he rushed to swipe the blackened pancakes onto a plate. He sighed and stared at them in contempt. 

“Oh well. At least we have bacon.” Danny offered.

Dick grinned and pointed at her. “Ah, but you see, I foresaw my disaster and planned ahead!” He opened the freezer and, with a flourish, pulled out a package of frozen pancakes. Danny blinked at them, then laughed.

“Foresaw it, did you?”

Dick started prepping the pancakes.

“Oh yeah. I’m a psychic. I’m all knowing.”

Danny snorted. “Uh-huh, sure, and I’m the queen of ghosts.”

Dick noticed the sour look on her face and raised an eyebrow at her. “What, do you not believe in ghosts, Danny?” 

She gave him a dull look and rolled her eyes. “I’m not answering that. Do you have any–?”

Dick opened the fridge and placed something in front of her.

“Orange juice?”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

He smirked. “All knowing, remember?”

She shook her head and looked down, trying to hide her smile. Dick grabbed two cups and filled them. She sipped on it and began cutting up her pancakes and pouring an ungodly amount of syrup on them.

It made Dick’s heart swell with pride. 

Just like her dad.

An idea sparked in his mind.

“Hey Danny, what do you say about a trip to the mall?”

“Dick isn’t coming.” Barbara spat.

“Hn.” 

“Just as expressive as always, old man.” Jason quipped as he sat down on one of the chairs in the Batcave. 

“What are you doing here, Todd. You weren’t invited.” Damian grumbled from next to Bruce, nose turned up in annoyance.

Jason shrugged and put his feet up on the table next to him. “What can I say? I see a party and I want to crash it.”

Tim sighed and held up a hand. “Can we please not argue? My head is still killing me.”

“I mean,” Stephanie loudly popped her lollipop out of her mouth. “You were MIA for like three hours. Who knows how many of your already depleted brain cells were killed?”

She blinked at him innocently with a stupid grin on her face. Tim flipped her off, receiving a lecture from Alfred.

“I still don’t get it. I swear I lost connection for only like 15, maybe 20 minutes.”

Barbara typed away at the Bat Computer. “After you entered the ship yard and I lost contact with you, I did an aerial scan of the area. It was distorted. Something was clearly strong enough to even mess with satellite imaging.”

Bruce grunted. “Tell us about the box you saw again.”

“It was maybe the size of a briefcase. It emitted an eerie noise. Maybe. I couldn’t tell. It felt like it was coming from everywhere all at once.”

“Eerie?” Cass asked.

Tim shrugged. “I don’t know, it had the hair on the back of my neck standing up. Sent chills down my spine. It was creepy. It was almost like–” He stopped, unsure how to phrase his next words. 

“Almost like?” Bruce repeated.

“Like…” Tim shook his head. “Like whatever was making it was in pain. It sounded like the cries of something in agony. Something otherworldly.”

Damian’s head snapped up to Bruce. “Father.”

Bruce nodded. “Hn.”

Jason looked around at everyone’s faces; clearly, he wasn’t included in whatever knowledge they all knew.

“Care to share with the class?”

“Constantine,” Bruce grumbled and ran a hand down his face, like the name pained him. “Came to me a few months ago to inform me that an entity from another world had been injured by humans and that it could be a means for war.”

“War?” Jason asked with raised eyebrows. 

“The entity is the ruler of this other world that is apparently the glue between all realities, multiverses, and dimensions, and also powerful enough to wipe out anything and worlds. Also, this being is still somewhere on the planet, most likely plotting revenge.” Tim clammered out. His hands were shaking. 

“That’s all we know?” Jason asked.

“Hn. Constantine is continuing the occult side of the investigation. If what Tim encountered is related, then the people he saw on the boat could very well be at fault for injuring the entity. We’ll be continuing to investigate.”

Several images popped up on the screen, and Barbara wheeled back to see them all. “You did good grabbing those files, Timmy. There’s a lot of information on here that we need to unpack.”

“White hair?” Cass asked as Babs pulled up the photo. 

Duke’s jaw dropped at the next one. 

“Are those organs?” 

Tim nodded grimly, rubbing at his abdomen absentmindedly. “That’s a spleen. I think the one behind it might be a heart.” He points. “And that looks like a kidney.”

Steph nods, morose. “Great, so let's put out an APB on a person with white hair, missing teeth, and no vital organs. This is crazy. No one can survive that.”

Bruce grunts. “Leaves me to believe this research–”

Jason cringed.

“Was used for some purpose. Perhaps alien? I will warn Superman. There is a chance a weapon could have been made–”

“Is that Lazarus Water?” Jason gritted out as he stood, eyes locked on one of the photos. Barbara brought it to the front of the screen. 

“Oh god.” Tim covered his mouth as the bile rose in his throat. “I didn’t see it before. The night vision on my mask– everything was green. I thought it was blood. This is–”

“Worse.” Jason was unnaturally still. 

Stephanie eyes Jason carefully. “Maybe they are alive, then.”

Bruce stepped forward, reaching for his shoulder. Jason jerked away from his hand. “Don’t touch me.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at him. The entire room was tense. If they were dealing with Lazarus Water, this investigation could set back all his progress. Jason was doing better, but they all knew it was just hard learned restraint holding him back. Sometimes, Tim would catch him looking at a photo. Meditating. Whatever was on it grounded him.

Jason glanced at the photos, then gritted his teeth, fist clenching and unclenching.

“You know something,” Damian noted.

Jason grabbed his helmet. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Hood, you need to–”

Jason pointed at Bruce. “I don’t need to do anything, old man. Stay out of this.”

“This?” Bruce challenged. “What is this?”

“None of your fucking business.”

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“Here we go again,” Stephanie muttered.

“None of my business? That isn’t how this works, Hood. You need to get over yourself.”

Jason scoffed, eyes narrowed with disbelief. “As if I’m the problem here?”

Bruce gestured to the cave and everyone in it. “No one here seems to have an issue. You aren’t 10 anymore, Hood. Grow up. Get over it.”

The air in the cave shifts. Cold and deathly silent. All eyes land on Jason as he quivers with retrained rage, eyes a striking green. 

“Get over it, huh?” Jason laughs, dry and bitter.

Everyone watching reaches for their weapons, ready to step in if need be. Bruce was poking a very angry, murderous bear. This was about to turn bad fast.

“Is that what you did? Got over it? Was it that easy for you?” Jason’s hand twitched over his gun. “Why am I not surprised. You never approved. Why would you? We were happy. He was happy. You don’t know how to function without chaos and angst, huh?”

“It was 17 years ago, Hood. I am always patient. I always am through your mood swings, but I’ve had enough.”

Jason nods, lip twitching. Tim swears he might have tears in his eyes.

“Enough, huh? Well, shit. So have I. Fuck you, Bruce. I hope you rot in hell.”

Jason grabbed his helmet, kicking the table next to him, and took off on his bike.

Bruce shook his head and walked away, Damian following after him. Cass and Steph went away in another direction. “What was that about?” Steph asked Cass as they went.

Tim nodded, taking in the empty space. “Right, yeah, good talk. Team bonding, am I right? This whole experience was great for morale, wouldn’t you agree, Duke, Babs?”

Duke checked his watch and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I should actually, I’ve got a thing, so I’m just going to–” He darted away.

Tim hung his head. So much for bro-manship.

Babs rolled up to Tim and placed a hand on his knee. She offered a rueful smile and said, “It’s not your fault. This family is just–”

“Dysfunctional? Broken? Problematic? A burning dumpster fire?”

Her smile thinned. “Hurting.”

Tim didn’t say anything to that; instead, he asked a question.

“Why didn’t Dick come? And what the hell was that all about?”

Babs’ smile faltered. “I’m sure you’ve noticed how he gets around this time of year–”

“Distant? Angry? Mopey?”

Babs gave Tim a look. 

“Right, sorry. No interrupting.”

She nodded. “It’s not just him. Jason, Bruce, Alfred, and myself included. This is a hard time for us.”

Tim frowned, only now realizing she’s right. They all change around this time of year. He always thought they hated the rain and Halloween.

“Why?”

Babs sits upright and adjusts her glasses. “It’s not my place to say.” She turns to wheel away. “Get some rest, Tim.”

He nodded. Once he was alone, he looked at his hands with a frown. He could almost feel the foreign fear eating away at his nerves. It was like a dull electric shock that wouldn’t let up.