Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The last thing he remembered was an explosion, a big one. Like the world’s worst firework show — minus the pretty colors and cheering. Unless you count the screams of his friends. After that, he’s pretty sure he got knocked out by the force of explosion and all that. Everything was silent, like he was just floating in space.

Until it wasn’t. The world came rushing back to him all at once. Sharp and very overwhelming.

The first thing he heard was cars. It was muffled at first, like he had just had his eardrums blown out… wait, he did.He could hear muffled sounds from all around him. He took some deep breaths, focusing on calming his racing heart and letting his hearing return.

It took a while. He counted at least ten minutes before the sounds got clearer. There was still a high-pitched ringing persisting but it was better than nothing. He cracked open his eyes, wincing at the harsh morning — or afternoon, he couldn’t be sure — light. He had to close them again. Taking a second, then opened and tried to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Once his eyes adjusted, he could finally see where he was — or wasn’t. Because he was absolutely sure Amity Park did not have an alley this dirty. There was cracked pavement that had definitely made people trip and bash their faces into the ground, overflowing dumpsters that looked scarier than any ghost Danny had ever seen, and so much graffiti that would’ve made Lancer faint.

This wasn’t Amity park. Not even close.

So then… where was he? And why was a kid staring at him as though he said no to ice cream before dinner?

“Uh, hello…?” Danny decided to speak. This kid was just staring at him, gaping mouth, pale face, and… a box cutter in hand? “...are you… trying to rob me…?” It was the only explanation Danny could come up with. That or he’d somehow offended a total stranger in the short amount of time he'd managed to stay conscious.

The kid nodded dumbly, his voice failing him in the moment. His hands curling around the handle of the box cutter were shaking, and he seemed to be getting paler — if that was even possible, the poor kid was already paler than any ghost Danny had seen.
“Uh… sorry, I don’t have anything worth stealing… unless you want a thermos full of captured ghosts.”

The kid flinched, tightening his grip on the box cutter. He looked at Danny like he had just said something offensive. Which… rude. He was just trying to liven the tense atmosphere while also trying to stay conscious.

His head was buzzing — probably not a good sign. He might have a concussion… Can he get a concussion in his ghost form? Well, aside from the dizziness, ringing in his ears and soreness of his body — he was totally fine.

The two ended up staring at each in silence. Complete silence. It was awkward.

“Soooo… are you gonna…” Danny wasn’t sure what was going on, he was still pretty confused. Should he prepare for a fight — not even because he could definitely take this kid even with how sore he was feeling — but he really didn’t want to unless necessary.

Finally, the kid dropped the box cutter, stumbling back as the weapon clattered to the ground. Except… he looked terrified. Well, more than before.

“You okay, kid?” Danny asked, shifting slightly to relieve the pressure on his aching arm — only to falter when the kid flinched away from him. Oh, the kid was scared of him.

“...ice…” The kid mumbled, shaking as he tripped over the cracked pavement — Karma, if you ask Danny — then ran down the street as fast as his little legs could take him.

Danny blinked, that whole interaction was confusing and very weird. Plus, what was that about ice? He did feel a vague coldness in the alley but not even to create ice. It looked around spring time, if he had to guess.

But then he shivered, rubbing his arm to warm himself up. Weird, it wasn’t that cold out, was it?

He felt his shoulder release the tension in them, letting his body relax against the brick wall behind him. He winced, his body throbbing in different places and aching no matter how he tried to adjust his position.

He braced his hands against the ground then paused. He looked down at the ice under his palm. At the ice spreading across the pavement and clinging to the wall behind him. Almost the entire alleway had been covered in ice — except for where Danny was sitting.

“...oh, that's not good.”

At least he knew why that kid was so freaked out. Good for him?

* * * * * * * *

Was it a good time to panic — that’s the question currently running through Danny’s mind as he stumbles down the street, bumping shoulders with people passing — thankfully they barely even notice him, too absorbed in their phones — weird looking one's— to care about the glowing teen limping down the pavement.

Bonus for him though — makes it a lot easier when no one is looking at him like he might lose control and hurt them any second.

Except that is what’s happening. He could barely control the ice in the alley, he can’t seem to de-transform from his phantom appearance, he doesn’t know where he is, if he’s even close to Amity park, if his friends had gotten hurt in the explosion, what actually happened…

Yeah, he thinks he’s earned the right to panic. Thank you very much.

… Except he can’t panic. He needs to stay calm. To figure out where he is. Maybe find a bus stop or something to take him back to Amity park.

He takes a deep breath, regretting it when his ribs throb in pain. Ouch. He holds his ribs, trying not to breathe and aggravate whatever wound he has there.

Once the pain faded into a dull ache that he could ignore, he focused on searching for a bus stop or at least something that could tell him his whereabouts. He had briefly considered asking someone, god knows there's plenty of people on the streets but… he didn’t want a repeat of the kid — the losing control of his powers part (the robbing part too cause this does not look like a safe neighborhood).

So he stumbled, glaring at the cracks in the pavement that tripped him up, and took breaks to breath through the pain that kept hitting him like rocks to his back, and eventually found a bus stop — ignoring all the grim and mysterious red stains. He sat down on the bench, wincing before his shoulders sag as the relief of being off his feet.

He looked at the map that showed the bus routes, there was one bus that headed out of here.

And it’s this moment that he finally learns the name of this place. This weird place where no one bats an eye at a glowing teen, where the sky is covered in so much fog that it’s almost impossible to see the sun, where the alleys are covered in so much graffiti that they overlap…

“Gotham? Where the hell is Gotham?”

…and more importantly, does it have cell reception?

* * * * * * * *

Danny had found a shop, it seemed to be selling those advanced phone-looking things he had seen people on the street using. He didn’t want to scare the worker inside so he tried to turn invisible.

It didn’t work.

He tried to go through the side wall.

It didn’t work.

None of his powers were working and yet he couldn’t de-transform no matter how much he tried to. He panicked a bit. It had happened before, his powers becoming unstable but add in the fact that he was in an unfamiliar place and it makes the situation a whole lot worse.

So what does he do?

He walks in through the front door, goes to the counter, and politely ask to borrow a phone or landline.

He got promptly kicked out, the worker calling him something along the lines of a ‘meta-human freak.’

Whatever that meant.

“Well, could have gone worse.” He told himself, “Least he didn’t try and hurt me. Not like he could.” He stood up, brushing himself off.

“Now, let's see if I can't find a phone booth.”

He stumbled off again, determined to find something to use so he can contact his friends and make sure they’re all right. Then he’ll worry about whatever injuries he might have sustained.

Chapter One: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>

Chapter Text

Tim POV:

“Weird. Very weird. Beyond weird.”

Tim paced in front of the screens, rubbing his temple as he paused to stare at the brightly lit computers. There was still steam curling from his ninth cup of coffee sitting on the desk that he had yet to drink.

He rubbed his eyes to make sure they were working correctly. They were, unfortunately.

The system was currently cycling through energy readings and bio-resonance data faster than he would like. He picked up his mug, trying to find comfort in the bitter liquid. Every few sips, he’d glance back at the fluctuating graphs and anomaly markers — readouts from at least four surveillance drones he had sent out and the city’s underground sensors.

He knew the machines couldn’t be mistaken. There was a very slim chance of that since they had just undergone maintenance.
Every sweep confirmed something that made dread pool in his stomach: Localized spikes in eco-radiation — essentially Lazarus type energy signatures but with some inconsistent thermal decay and… what looked like a cold signature?
He blinked, setting his mug down as he leaned in to pull up a spectral overlay.

“What the hell is going on?”

* * * * * * *

By the time he managed to pin-point the location of the cold signature — an alley in the Burrows — no one was around but he figured out the reason for the sudden cold spike reading.
The alley was covered in ice. Definitely not normal ice either. It was unnaturally cold, colder than ice should be — especially in this weather — it hadn’t even started melting yet. He managed to break a tiny piece off so he could analyze it when he got back.

He searched around some more but found nothing of note — aside from a box cutter laying near the ice.

So, with a sigh of disappointment, he headed back to the batcave to study the ice. Hopefully he would get some sort of answer.

* * * * * * * * *

Danny POV:

The only saving grace — the light in the dark, blah blah optimism — was finding a payphone on the side of the street. Ignoring how grimy, weird-smelling it was. Miraculously, it was still working.

He stepped inside, checking his surroundings. He took a breath, wasting a single second to decide on who to call. Jazz. He’d call Jazz.

Luckily, he had managed to scoop up some scattered coins off the sidewalk on his way here. Gotham may be dirty but hey, at least the streets were generous. He shoved the change into the slot, having a bit of trouble since it was slightly rusted from dis-use, then reached to dial her number — praying she actually had her cell on her (90% chance, he told himself).

His hand went right through the keypad.

He blinked, yanking his hand back. He stared at his hand and tried again. Same result.

“Oh, come on. Now is not the time to turn intangible.” He groaned, trying to grip the edge of the booth — but again, his hands only phased through it. Except, it was only his hand (up to his wrists) that were like this. Rest of him was still solid.

“Okay. Not freaking out.” He exhaled a few times through his nose, backing out of the booth. “This is fine. Totally fixable…” Even he didn’t sound convinced.

So, he sat on the nearest bench and waited. And waited… and waited.

By the time the sun dipped behind Gotham’s buildings, his hands were still ghosting through things.

“Great. Just great. This is fine. Completely fine,” He muttered, kicking a rock as he limped down the street. “...now what do I do?”

* * * * * * * *

Since it was getting dark, and fast, he decided to find shelter somewhere where he probably wouldn’t get mugged or thrown out of. So the options were:

A run down building that looked like it would collapse if someone even sneezed inside it.

A rooftop that would leave him open to any airborne attack but less likely to get mugged up there.

Trying to go ghost — if he even could.

First, he tried to Go Ghost — just to see if it worked. Spoiler alert: he couldn’t.

He didn’t feel too confident when he was in front of the run down building he had found, it was definitely on its last legs.
— A run down building that looked like it would collapse if someone even sneezed inside it.

So, that left the last option — finding a rooftop to rest on. Which was easy since there were plenty of buildings around him. He found a fire escape on the side of a building, probably an apartment complex if he had to guess and climbed up to check the roof for any threats. When he found none, he sighed with relief and climbed up fully.

He sat against the short wall, leaning his head back. He stared at the night — still foggy — sky. He had his hands on his lap, not wanting them to go through the roof and freak out whoever was on the floor below him.

He was really out of his element here. Tomorrow, he would have to ask around and find out whether Amity Park was near here. Maybe he could walk back home, if need be.

* * * * * * * *

Danny wasn’t in a very deep sleep — how could he? He had woken up about — don’t quote him on this, he’s very tired and the lack of proper sleep is probably messing with his head — thirty-ish times before he gave up sleeping.

He sighs, blinking slowly to try and keep his eyes open. He did not feel like passing out right now, thank you very much. He stood up, walking around the rooftop while swinging his arms back and forth. The cold air was doing a good job waking him up. It was so cold that he was going to get frostbite from it…
That was the first clue. Then he noticed the thin layer of frost spreading under his shoes.

Oh, well that's my ice…. covering the roof.

“Awesome…”

Is he gonna have to pay for that?

“Well… let’s find another roof.” He mumbled.

He jumped off the side of the building onto a nearby roof, and kept doing so until he was far enough away. He rubbed his arms, trying to warm himself up. No ghost powers — none that were working correctly — no help, no clue how to get home, he was tired, running on empty at this point. He missed his room. Even the weird creaking vent.

His head was working a bit slower than normal.

So when he sighed and blue mist followed, it took him a second to realize what just happened.

“...you’re kidding. I still have to work?”

* * * * * * *

He followed his senses, searching for the ghost that had appeared according to his powers. Hopefully it wasn’t a malfunction. That would be cruel. Making him go on a wild goose chase for nothing.

He found the ghost rummaging through a dumpster in a deserted alley — lucky him. It was… eating from the dumpster? Gross. He could practically smell the stench of trash from the roof.

It didn’t seem very powerful. Pale skinned, floating above the ground, all the usual stuff. Ignoring how it was chomping down the soggy cardboard and black plastic bags.

“This’ll be easy then.” He mumbled, he could just use the thermos, or maybe convince the ghost to leave on its own. Maybe he could hitch a ride on the way.

He climbs down the rusty fire escape, dropping onto a pile of empty wooden boxes. He hops off, landing softly on the pavement, slowly approaching the ghost currently gobbling down trash — he had to suppress his nausea as the smell got stronger the closer he got.

He wanted to freeze the ghost's hands to the dumpster, maybe he could talk to this ghost and reason with him — unlikely but a guy can dream, can’t he?

Only problem. His ice powers all of a sudden won’t work. Because of course they wouldn’t. Fantastic. Where was this selective dysfunction when he froze half a rooftop?

So, he cleared his throat to grab the ghosts attention. It worked a bit too well. The ghost snapped it’s head toward him, glowing eyes narrowing on his figure. There was something ranging between hunger and irritation on its face.

So much for a friendly chat.

He still had the thermos, at least.

Chapter two: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>

Chapter Text

The situation quickly devolved into a fight. The ghost was quick. Quicker than Danny expected it to be. Can you blame him? It was eating from a dumpster, after all. But one should never underestimate a ghost.

Before Danny could even grab his Thermos, the ghost has zipped to the other end of the alley. All he could see was a blur of white and green, the trash from the dumpster scattering in the air like confetti.

Bright side: The ghost wasn’t running away. More like it was playing with him. Better than nothing.

It also didn’t seem too hostile. Good sign.

He tried to fire off a blast of eco-energy. Nothing. He sighed. Great. He dove to the side just as the ghost blitzed past him, clipping his shoulder. His sore shoulder. He sucked in a breath, trying not to let the pain bother him.

“Can’t you slow down for five seconds?!” Danny shouted, holding his shoulder as he launched an unstable blast that scorched the brick wall.

The only answer he got was a mocking laugh. Another blur. The ghost was circling him. Teasing him.

He had to come up with a plan. Like yesterday.

The ghost was still zipping all over the alley, bouncing off the walls like a pinball machine while laughing like a kid having fun. Danny ducked behind a dumpster, trying not to get hit again. The ghost flashed past him, searching for him.

Danny’s hand shot out, slamming into the ghost’s back. Finally, he landed a hit. Not that it was going to do much except irritate the ghost more.

It raced away from him, darting left down another alley. Danny followed. Right where he wanted it. A sudden turn — Danny skidded to a halt, panting as he smirked at the ghost now trapped at a dead end.

“No fair!” The ghost shouted, spinning around to glare at him.

Once Danny had managed to catch his breath, holding onto his knees, he let out a breath. “Look, we’ve both had a long night. Mine probably worse than yours — unless you just died recently.” He stepped closer. “You got your garbage, I got my unstable powers. Let's just wrap this up, yeah?” He raised the thermos, no longer in the mood to negotiate.

The ghost was panicking, clearly. It paced the small area, wringing its hands as it glared at Danny. It paused right as Danny got ready to use the Thermos, blurting out: “Wait! Don’t trap me yet! Don’t you want to know how I got here?”

Danny blinked, lowering the thermos slightly, “What do you mean? I’m not that dumb, I know where ghosts come from.”

The ghost sighed, like it was tired — Danny was the tired one. “The rift… there’s a new one! It just opened!” It’s voice was raspy but urgent.

Danny narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “A new rift?” He kept the thermos in his grip but had it lowered to hang at his side. “Explain.”

The ghost nodded, glancing around the dead end nervously. “It pulled me in — I was just drifting near the edge of the zone and then — boom — I’m here. There’s definitely more coming. I don’t think even the strongest ghost could resist that rifts pull. I got scared… and then hungry.”

Danny’s heart was pounding, which probably wasn’t good for his blood pressure. “A new portal? How? The Fenton one’s back in Amity…”

“Amity?” The ghost looked confused. “You’re far from Amity. This portal… feels wrong. Like it’s not supposed to be here.” The ghost shivered, “You’ll see.”

Before Danny could ask more — like what the ghost meant by “far from Amity” — the ghost turned intangible and sank into the ground, disappearing completely and leaving silence behind.

He stood frozen in the middle of the alley, thermos still slack in his hand. Everything was quiet again. He blinked, trying to process it all.

“...what just happened?”

* * * * * * *

Danny sighed, putting the thermos away. “No parting gift? Not even a map? Just the knowledge that there is an unstable portal somewhere that is pulling ghosts in?” He kicked a stray can, wincing at the loud sound it made as it hit the brick wall. He huffed, his breath puffed white in the air but it was only because of how cold it was.

He floated up, two inches off the ground before he wobbled and dropped right back down. “Great. Can’t even float. Cool. Love that for me.”

He spent the next half hour or so thinking because Danny had lots to think about. Lots.

If a new rift really existed — and it wasn’t just the ghost rambling nonsense to stall him — then Danny had a problem. A big, portal-shaped, possibly world ending problem.

This is really not good for his stress.

He spent most of the night canvassing the area, checking inside dumpsters, backstreets, rooftops — anything that even remotely reeked of ectoplasm or ghost activity. But there was nothing. No glowing slime. No shrieking banshee. Not even a creepy fog with bad vibes.

In all honesty, despite how tired he was, he wouldn’t have minded something. Even if it was dangerous.

Danny rubbed his arms, teeth chattering. He needed a new plan. Wandering around like this wasn’t going to cut it. He’d just tired himself out quicker.

“Okay, think. Use that brain of yours. If weird stuff is happening, or going to happen, someones got to notice, right?” His eyes lit up, you could practically see the light bulb above his head go off. “Police scanners. Dispatch radios. Something. They have to pick up something, anything that could help me.”

He dropped back down to the street, glancing around the dim streets. He could see the sun just barely peeking out over the buildings. He’d been doing this all night.

He walked around until he found a brightly lit convenience store tucked between two big buildings that didn’t have their lights on yet. A guy behind the counter slowly blinked as he scrolled through his cell.

Danny walked past, holding his breath as he found the small electronic isle — which was just two shelves near the wall — he scanned the stuff, most of which he didn’t recognize. It all looked pretty high tech to him. He smiled as he spotted a cheap police band radio. One of those, “as seen on tv” kind.

With a quick glance, he made sure the cashier wasn’t staring at him, he grabbed it and slipped outside. He let go of the breath he was holding, scurrying off to the rooftops again. He was finding comfort in being off the ground, high up so he could see everything.

“Borrowing. Totally borrowing. Gonna return it. Eventually.” He sat on the edge of a building, fiddling with the tuner after injecting some ectoplasm into it so it didn’t glitch out. The radio hissed to life with a burst of static.

There was a bunch of jumbled words he couldn’t make out, he kept listening to it until he heard anything that sounded remotely ghostly.

Finally, he heard:

“...unit six, report of cold spots and structural damage on 14th and durbin… could be a gas leak…”

Danny’s head snapped up. That didn’t sound like a gas leak. Worth checking out at least. Cold spots definitely meant ghosts. In his experience at least.

“Bingo. Hopefully.”

He tucked the radio under his arm and stood up, swaying slightly on his feet. “Alright, now… where’s 14th and Durbin?”

Chapter Three: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>

Chapter Text

Tim's POV:

Tim adjusted his belt, walking through the dim alleyway as his earpiece buzzed with static. The patrol had been relatively quiet — since he had changed the channel on his radio when Steph started ranting about anything and everything. The peacefulness was a welcomed change from all the chaos of the last few weeks. He’d had to deal with Gotham’s usual mix of chaos, add in the occasional gang fight, and one too many missing person reports.

Not even including all the chaos Damian and Jason cause when they’re on patrol.

But that was basically routine at this point. So he could handle it.

Then the radio chatter spiked.

There was a report of a cold spot and structural damage on 14th and Durbin. Potentially a gas leak.

But Tim had an odd feeling about it. He furrowed his brows, trying to reason with himself. It could mean nothing. It could just be a gas leak or it could be a trap.

Was it worth checking out?

He sighed, running a hand down his cowl. He would end up going anyway, might as well not fight himself about it. He activated the grapnel gun with a quick flick, soaring up towards the nearest rooftop.

A few swings later, he was there. He was standing on a rooftop to get an aerial view. He could spot the damage from there. Large cracks had spread across multiple brick buildings like a spiderweb.

He leaned over the edge, trying to get a closer look. The damage was bad too and not normal. A long crack snaked up the side of a run-down building, a thin layer of ice covered the crack and pavement, emitting cold air and frost.

The alley was quiet, he noted. A bit too quiet. There wasn't any police officers here yet, no civilians. Just the eerie silence that came with the dawn.

Then, there was movement.

All he could catch was the edge of their white hair as they raced down a different alley. Tim tried to give chase, but that person had quickly taken up flight, flying faster than Tim could run.

However, he was sure of one thing.

“Great.” He muttered under his breath, staring at the frost on the ground. It was like a trail that had come from the person he was chasing but had paused in the middle of the alley. “Looks like we’ve got a new meta in Gotham. One that likes to break buildings.”

And just like that, the hunt began.

* * * * * * * * *

The soft hum of the computer filled the silence of the cave. Multiple monitors had been pulled up, flickering with thermal scans, street cam footage, and even data logs, while the massive main screen displayed a zoomed in map of Gotham’s east end.

Tim sat in front of the console, arms crossed, still in his full gear but his cowl had been pulled back to reveal his face. He was already drinking a cup of coffee as he remained entirely focused on the footage he’d managed to isolate from a surveillance camera.

A grainy clip was played again: A white-haired teenager launching above the buildings from the narrow alley, a silver-ish glow surrounding his body.

Behind him, Bruce approached, his boots silent on the stone floor.

“What did you find?”

“Possible meta,” Tim said without turning around. “Young. Agile. Capable of flight and some kind of ice or energy manipulation. He left the scene of a structural damage report near 14th and Durbin. I got there too late to confront him.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed. “Damage consistent with an attack?”

“That's the weird part.” Tim tapped a key, bringing up a screen of still images of the building — cracked bricks, faint frost trails, thin ice covering a long crack that was almost half the height of the building and what looked like scorch marks. “It doesn’t match fire, ice or seismic activity. Cold spots were reported but nothing natural. I managed to get some samples. I also picked up ambient energy spikes but they were… unstable. Faded pretty fast.”

Stepping closer, Bruce watched the grainy footage carefully. The teenager looked like he would be easy to identify, white hair, black suit and all.

“Any ID on the meta?”

Tim shook his head, “Nothing yet. No matching metas in the registry. No hits in facial recognition. And…” He hesitated before continuing, “...I didn’t get the feeling that he was attacking anything. It was more like… he was fighting someone then bailed when he spotted me.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“I know how that sounds.” He added immediately after, “But the scene felt post-incident. No injuries, not that I could see, no civilian witnesses. Just some energy residue and a glowing kid flying away”

Nodding once, Bruce folded his arms. He was still staring at the screen. “Keep digging. Expand your search radius — look for irregular energy signatures across the city over the last seventy-two hours. If this kid’s new in town, he may have left a trail.”

Tim was already working on pulling up a new search criteria. “On it.”

* * * * * * * *

Danny's POV:

Danny stumbled as he landed on a random rooftop — with the grace of a bowling ball — falling to his knees almost immediately. He sucked in a shaky breath, peeking over his shoulder to make sure that man hadn't followed behind him.

“Okay,” he gasped, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm down. “What was that?”

One minute he'd barely been able to hover a few inches off the ground — and then bam! Full flight — just in time to escape some dude in a red suit and cape. Not a very friendly look, if Danny had anything to say about it.

He peeked over the legs, peering left and right to make double sure that man had lost him. When he didn't see anyone, like no one at all, he let out a relieved sigh and leaned against the chimney next to him.

“Great. Just what I needed. A creepy stalker on top of everything else!” He groaned, laying limply against the warm brick.

He could already feel the exhaustion seeping into his bones from using up whatever boost he had gotten from fighting that weird ghost.

Speaking of ghosts…

He lifted the thermos to eye level, staring at it. The fight from earlier — before that masked man had arrived — hadn't really been much of a fight.

More like a scuffle. It was over before Danny could say “boo”.
The ghost was very similar to the dumpster ghost, translucent skin, glowing eyes, ect…

Except this ghost refused to tell him anything. About the portal, about itself, about Gotham. It just hissed something that sounded eerily like, “you shouldn't be here” before Danny had taken a risk and used the thermos to capture it.

Thank his lucky stars it worked.

So, he was back to square one.

“No answers. No clues. Not even a small hint! Just, ‘hey, there's a portal somewhere, in the very large city, that is forcefully dragging ghosts in and dumping them out but I won't tell you where’, like come on! Give me something!” Danny slammed a fist against the roof, wincing at the pain that followed quickly.

Sighing, he rubbed his hands together. It was morning but it was still pretty cold out. He was almost ready to give up, what else could he do?

But he can't. He has to get back home. He has to make sure to close his new rift so that no one more ghosts can come and terrorize civilians.

“...but how? What do I even do now?”

Chapter Four: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>

Chapter Text

Danny's POV:

It had been a week. Seven days. Seven very long days to Danny. Long enough to feel like a year. Long enough to make him start to alleys. And rooftops. And ghosts. And the smell of old hot dog water steaming out of the sewer grates.

Another night. Another ghost.

Or in Danny's case, another five.

Today — Sunday, as he learned a while ago after finding a calendar inside of a convenience store — he had located another ghost. This one was much more hostile than the others he had faced.

Plus, his powers were still pretty unstable. Very unstable, actually. Last night, he has accidentally phased through the roof he was resting on and scared the tenants so bad they fainted. He was out of there faster than you could say "Ghost."

"Okay, you—" He got cut off, dodging a swipe from the ghost that looked like it just crawled out of a haunted Laundromat. "—You're going to answer a few questions and then I'm going to trap you in the thermos. Sound fair?"

The ghost snarled — because obviously, not even Danny would agree to be peacefully captured — and threw a shopping cart — half-hazardly sitting in the middle of an alley — at him.

Danny caught that cart. His hands flickering, glowing faintly with unstable energy. "I'll take that as a no." He sighed, tossing the cart behind him before he dropped it.

A few missed eco-blasts, a lot of dodging, ice covered walls, and a blue of Green-and-whirr later, the ghost was safely sealed inside the thermos.

Danny let out a relieved sigh, wiping the non-existent sweat off his forehead. He gained no answers. Again. He floated above the cracked pavement, scanning the area for witnesses. None. Good. Except...

He swore he saw a flicker in the corner of his eye. A cape flowing in the wind made him shiver. It was coming from a roof in the distance.

"Aw, come on!" He groaned, already tired from his ghost fight. Hopefully he has enough energy to fly away — without crashing and nearly busting his face. Again. He took off quickly, flying crookedly as his energy sputtered and flickered before stabilizing.

His powers and been working in bursts lately — which was good and bad as he never knew when and which ones would be working and not working — almost like a dying flashlight.

For a week now, this had been his routine. Find ghost. Fight ghost. Ask questions — usually get useless or zero info. Capture ghost. Spot guy in red suit. Run.

Danny had a rapidly growing collection of ghosts in his thermos. He wasn't sure how much more space was left in it. He still didn't have anywhere else to put these ghosts as he had yet to find the rift.

Plus, his patience was shrinking. Incredibly fast. Everytime he thought he might get some real answers — how he got here, more about the rift, where it was — they bailed, lied or just attacked him.

His energy plummeted quickly, making him stumble clumsily onto the edge of a water tower. He took a second to catch his breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he scanned his surroundings for Gotham's resident masked stalker in red.

"Why are you so fast? Do you have a tracker on me or something?" He muttered, glaring at the buildings. "And who even are you? Are you with the rift? Do you have the rift? Are you the rift?"

Forgive him, he was dangerously close to passing out from exhaustion and sleep deprivation.

A strong gust of wind nearly knocked him off the tower.

"Great! Now I'm yelling at the wind!" He grumbled, leaning back. He still held the thermos, the worth reminding him to keep an eye out and not let his guard down.

He still had a long way to go.

Yay?

* * * * * * * * *

Tim POV:

Tim yanked off his mask, his gloves went next as he tossed them onto the polished table in the Batcave. He took a deep breath, exhaling through his nose a few times. The screen in front of him was lit up with videos of a paused video — you could see a blurry, glowing figure darting between buildings chasing something.

"A week." He muttered, scrubbing his hands through his hair. He needed coffee. Like yesterday. "Seven days in a row. Seven. Days. And he just keeps slipping away."

From his side, Barbara chuckled as she took in his frustration. Her voice present with that dry, ever present sarcasm.

"Sounds like someone's getting outrun by a teenager."

Tim groaned, "He's fast, Babs. Like 'physics is optional' fast. Glows green. Can fly — sometimes. I've seen him crash before. And the weird part? He doesn't attack me. He fights some ghost looking things, captures them with some kind of vacuum bottle and then leaves."

"Ghosts?" Barbara repeated, amusement clear in her tone. "You've been spending too much time with Constantine."

"I know how it sounds." Tim fought the urge to roll his eyes. "But I've checked every meta database we have, nothing that matchs his energy signature — or the thermos he always carries with him." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "And I swear he looks younger the closer I get to him."

Barbara was silent for a beat, the she spoke a bit more seriously. "Send me the footage. Any footage. I'll scan local networks, traffic cams, security feeds — anything I can ping. If he's on camera, I'll find him."

Tim didn't tell her that he had done most of that, maybe she could find something he hadn't. He'd take basically anything at this point. So he uploaded the files, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

In a matter of minutes, Barbara had the footage dissected and augmented. The enchanted images of the teen flying across the screen — clearer now, giving them a good look at the teens face — still flickering green around the edges but enough for now.

"You didn't tell me he was this young. I was thinking he was around your age, Tim." Barbara said, pursing her lips as she stared at the screen.

"I did too. He looks like he's Damian's age. He's a kid." Tim whispered.

They could see dark circles under the kids glowing eyes. His jumpsuit looked pretty worn, he was slouched like his hadn't slept, even floating mid-air he reeked of exhaustion.

"He doesn't seem like a threat to us. More like he's chasing something." Barbara's voice had softened.

Tim sighed, taking a seat next to her. "Then what's he chasing?" He didn't expect and answer. Barbara didn't give one.

* * * * * * * * *

Barbara POV:

Barbara sat in front of the computers, still down in the Batcave even after Tim had left to go make coffee — instead of sleep. His words about the teen he had been chasing kept echoing in her head, especially after finding out how young he seemed.

Tim was convinced that this kid wasn't just a rogue meta, then there was something about Ghosts — she didn't take Tim as the supernatural type.

So she searched. Hoping to get rid of her concerns as well as his.

Seeing as the Meta database hasn't given them anything, she checked civilian records. Missing persons database. School records. Juvenile registries. Hack-level deep.

It took hours. Hours of nothing.

She was about to give up as she was combing through entries, when something caught her attention. A picture.

She clicked on the file. The name on it was Daniel James Fenton.

Daniel James Fenton
Age: 14
Last known location: Amity Park, Illinois.
Status: Presumed deceased.

Barbara narrowed her eyes, leaning forward to get a better look. The kid in the school photo next to the info wasn't glowing, nor did he have silver hair or glowing green eyes but there was a clear resemblance.

"Gotcha." She whispered. She began pulling files — family details, school records, address logs, anything she could find — and then paused when she reached the most recent entry.

Amity Park — Classified Incident report
#1031-A
Status: Collapsed
Cause: Unknown Explosion
Casualties: 87 confirmed, 132 presumed missing. City declared inhabitable.

Her fingers stilled on the keyboard, "What the hell..."

There were a bunch of redacted reports. Energy readings flagged by the Department of Energy, something about Ghostly spikes flagged by fringe science groups, a completely blacked out line from the GIW — Who the hell were they?

She kept digging. She felt like she had to. Most of the files were scrubbed. The media trail went cold. Like someone wanted Amity Park to be forgotten.

She vaguely heard Tim came back — there was a 99% chance there was a coffee mug in his hand — and let out a sigh.

"Tim, you were right. He isn't just some rogue meta. I found something. A possible match."

Tim paused, shuffling closer while sipping his coffee. "Who is he?"

"Daniel Fenton. From a town called Amity Park." She hesitated, her nails tapping against her table. "The towns gone. Destroyed. A month ago but there's nota single news report about it anywhere."

"Also, he's... presumed to be dead."

Another pause.

"...what the hell is going on?"

Chapter Five: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>>

Chapter Text

Danny's POV:

Danny's breath fogged the air as he darted through the alley, chasing after the tail of a ghost who was laughing maniacally the entire time. The ghost wasn't particularly fast — it just that Danny was slow.

There were a number of reasons for that — ones he won't get into or have the time to think about while chasing a ghost.

In front of him, the ghost passed through a stack of pallets, causing them to fall in Danny's path — he luckily phased through them and skidded to a halt as the ghost zoomed up the side of a building.

"Hey! Just one straight answer!" He shouted, chasing after the ghost via fire escape.

The ghost glanced back once it was at the time of the building, sticking it's tongue mockingly. "Ask someone else, Phantom! I'm not the only one slipping through the cracks!"

Danny attempted to fire an echo-blast but missed as he held onto the rusty railing. He winced as he hit the side of the building. He only succeeded in making the ghost more hostile.

"You think it's bad now? The rifts getting bigger by the day! Soon, this whole place will be crawling with ghosts!"

Danny blinked, his grip slipping. "Wait — What?"

Too late. The ghost disappeared over the edge. Danny climbed up the remaining way and stumbled onto the roof. The ghost noticed him, picking up the pace as it started crossing over the roofs.

Danny followed in pursuit, his energy flickering but he paid it no mind. His energy crackled around his hands, unstable. He prayed it wasn't what he thought it was. Wind whipped his face as he jumped across a few gaps, right on the ghosts tail.

Just as he grabbed his Thermos, jumping across another gap, this close to catching the slippery little imp, his powers sputtered, his glow fading before completely disappearing.

Not good.

"No no no — NOT NOW!!"

Danny had expected this sort of thing to happen, he had been using his power a lot with no way to turn it off. He figured sooner or later, he'd use to much and de-transform but he didn't think it would be now. Why now?!

Everything seemed to go in slow motion. His flow flickered, like a bulb that wasn't screwed in properly. His form phased between ghost and human until ultimately he was flesh and blood again.

Right above a gap. The sudden momentum and weight startled him, making him flail before he plummeted. He crashed into the fire escape, barely managing to grab onto something to slow his fall. The force had flipped him upside down and his legs got tangled in — conveniently placed laundry hanging on the railing — stopping him fall right before his head hit the ground.

Leaving him dangling in the breeze, like the laundry he had fallen into.

He took a second to breath, blinking a few times to make sure he hasn't actually died and that he was safe.

Once he had confirmed that, he let himself relax a bit.

"I hate my life." He muttered, his eyes spinning and all the blood rushing straight to his head. Everything felt worse now that he was human again. Everything hurt worse. Especially all the smells that were suddenly surrounding him. At least the laundry smelled clean.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming from deeper in the alley. He snapped his head to the side, wincing at the nausea that followed and saw a man wearing a red helmet and black leather jacket standing half-way in the shadows with his hand resting on the pistol in its holster.

"You good up there, Spider-Man?"

"Yep, never better. Can't possible imagine a better situation right now." Danny deadpanned, his voice monotone as he stared blankly at the new person.

The man chuckled, stepping closer and taking his hand off the gun. "Well, you planning on hanging there all night? I heard these streets get pretty cold."

"Honestly, I might just sleep here. This laundry is better than where I'm staying currently."

And it was true. Anything beat the bird poop infested rooftops he had been sleeping on. Even laundry that he wasn't sure was clean was a far better choice.

Red Hood shook his head, "I have no problem leaving you here but you're a pretty easy target right now. You got anything valuable on you?"

"Nope, I've got literally nothing but I am getting a headache and I do not feel like passing out here. You know what, I've changed my mind. Please help me down."

Red Hood lightly chuckled, reaching up to untangle Danny's legs. Making sure Danny had a grip on his jacket so he wouldn't crash into the pavement.

Once Danny was right side up again — wobbling a bit to the side, holding onto the brick wall — he made completely sure he was human again without making himself seem weird.

"Thanks, that was... honestly not my worst moment." He sighed, patting down his clothes.

Red Hood tilted his head, "You always climb buildings like this or you just running from something?"

Danny blinked — coming up with the best excuse he could think of — "Uh... Cardio?"

Yeah. Cardio was the best he could come up with. Not suspicious at all. Nice going.

There a awkward best of silence. Danny sweating as he stared at Red Hood, praying for him to believe the excuse.

Not pressing the issue, Red Hood gave a slow nod. "Gotcha but next time, maybe keep your feet on the ground, kid. I won't always be around to help untangle you."

With that, he turned and disappeared into the shadows again.

"...who was he and why was he dressed like it's Halloween?"

* * * * * * * * *

Danny was human again. It was good but also bad. It was easier to get hurt like this. But he could at least use a phone now and he wouldn't get called a "Meta" — still no idea what that means.

He immediately went to find a phone booth, excitement, worry and anxiety mixing in his heart, giving him butterflies in his stomach as he closed the glass door behind him. He took a few deep breaths, inserting the coins he had saved till now and putting in the right number.

The phone rang, and rang and rang. He was slowly losing hope the longer it took. Was Jazz alright?

He was about to hang up, full of worry and instead was going to try Tucker or Sam but then....

Click.

"Hello?"

Pause. Take a breath.

"Who is this?"

Danny almost couldn't speak, all the worry and anxiety and the terrible things he had imagined disappeared and all he felt was relief.

"Jazz." His knees almost bucked from underneath him, holding onto the wall as he sighed.

There was a gasp.

"Danny?! Oh my God, is that you?" Jazz exclaimed, sounding close to tears. "Are you okay? Where are you? We've been — everyone's been freaking out!"

Great. That's gonna be fun when I get back. Danny groaned, running a hand down his face. "I'm okay. Pretty much." As long as you don't count left over soreness from the explosion, exhaustion from chasing ghosts for a week, testing my limits by using my powers, falling off a roof, ect...

"I'm somewhere called Gotham, I don't know how far that is from Gotham but I don't think it's anywhere close."

"Gotham?" Jazz repeated, "I've never heard of it."

"Yeah, figured. Neither had I, well until I somehow wound up here." He ran a hand through his hair, "Long story."

Jazz paused for a second, like she was debating whether or not to continue speaking. Ultimately she did, hesitation clear in her voice as she lowered it. Like she didn't want anyone listening in.

"Look, Danny, the explosion wasn't as bad as it seemed. Thankfully the news hasn't gotten a hold of the news yet, it was isolated pretty fast but... it shook things up. Badly. The GIW got involved, again. They believe that Phantom caused the explosion, that it was his way of threatening them. They're searching for you. Well, Phantom."

Danny felt his stomach sink. "Of course they are." Well, I guess the only good thing about finding myself in Gotham is that the GIW probably have no idea where I am.

Jazz added on, a little more cheerful. "Oh, Tucker and Sam are okay. The blast radius wasn't that big, and they managed to get out of the way in time. They're really worried about you though. They're helping cover for you. They managed to convince our parents that Phantom is in the Ghost Zone right now helping with the after effects cause by explosion and that you are staying at their house for now. Don't know how long that'll hold up though. Probably not for long."

Danny let out a groan, sliding down to the floor and hugging his legs. "Wait, so... The Ghost portal is what exploded? Great."

"Danny, just.. be careful." Jazz said, "I know you're trying to fix things. But if the GIW learns of where you are... it'll be bad."

"I know but they won't. Not anytime soon at least." He said, leaning his head back against the glass. "I'm... well, I wouldn't say laying low but I've only alerted one person so far and he's not much a threat." He chuckled, trying to ease the mood.

It didn't work.

There was a pause, a very loud one that made Danny's laugh fade. He distracted himself by watching a rat scurry across the street, taking refuge in a fallen metal trash can.

"When are you coming home?"

Danny pursed his lips, "I'm not sure. When I can make sure that we're all safe. I can't just leave this city when its full of ghosts."

Jazz didn't argue, "Okay. I'll see you soon then."

"See you soon."

"Oh, do you want to talk to—"

The line clicked, hanging up automatically as his time had run out. He was tempted to call again, talk to Tucker or Sam but... He was tired. That phone call had taken a lot of energy out of him.

He just wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted to go home.

Chapter Six: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>

Chapter Text

Danny's POV:

Danny was a mess. Literally and Figuratively. However, he couldn't give up hope. Jazz was fine. Tucker and Sam were fine. Sure, the GIW was hunting him but hey, what's new?

He had some renewed determination to find the rift, close it and go home.

Then deal with all the issues back home.

Sigh, When would he get a break?

So, for the next week or so, he focused on capturing more ghosts. He knew it would do nothing if the rift was still open, more would just keep coming. So, if he thought the ghost wasn't a threat, he would leave them be after asking his questions.

He only captured the hostile ones. The Thermos was definitely running out of space, so he had to be careful with it. He didn't want to experience another explosion.

There was one or two issues still present. One was that he seemed to be getting caught up with more thieves and muggers lately. Human ones. Luckily he knew his way around fighting so it wasn't a big deal.

The second was that his ice had yet to stop working even though he was human again. So... he tended to leave alleys and roofs coved in ice. It also worked its way into his fights — helpful sometimes, terribly inconvenient others.

Also, it seemed like others were staring to notice but he hasn't seen the stalker in red around lately. So, from one thing to the next.

He kept the police radio close, tuning in whenever there were reports of cold spikes or icy rooftops or destroyed buildings. He hasn't sure if the lingering ice was a side effect of the explosion but it made it difficult to hide in one place for long.

It helped him avoid places where he may get caught but also lead him to places where ghosts might be lurking. He had heard passerbys on the street talking about it one day, saying something along the lines of:

"Have you heard? There's a new Meta around here. They say he's been freezing alleys and roofs, destroying buildings and tying people to dumpsters."

Apparently — from what he'd gathered — a 'Meta' was Gotham's catch-all term for people with powers or at least something like that. And it wasn't a compliment.

Still, he didn't care what Gotham and it's residents thought of him. He had bigger things to worry about. Like not starving to death.

"Also, it's not like I tie up random people! They tried to mug me! And I'm not the one destroying those buildings, it's the ghosts!" Danny grumbled, chewing on a granola bar. "...okay, I guess it's really not fair of me to be saying that I when I took their wallets."

He had been starving. He hadn't eaten since before the explosion — when life was normal, or as close as it could get. Thankfully he had been in his ghost form all this time so he didn't feel too hungry, once he was back to his normal form, he felt like he would pass out once all the adrenaline wore off so he resorted to stealing from the people who tried to steal from him. That's a tongue twister.

He had already had a full meal at a fast food place, he barely tasted the food, he was so hungry he's pretty sure he just inhaled it all. After that, he bought some snacks.

"Okay." He brushed the crumbs off his hands and stood up. "Time to get to work."

* * * * * *

He caught a few more hostile ghosts, a few he had let go once he made sure they weren't a threat to people, and some had given him bits and pieces of info regarding the rift and Gotham.

He welcomed any and all kinds of info. Even useless stuff like where the best dumpsters were or which humans to be cautious of.

So far he had learned that the rift was constantly changing positions — because of course it would — and that it's energy was faint which is why it's so difficult to find.

Good to know, not exactly helpful but it was useful info for later.

Additionally, Danny had been running into that guy with the leather jacket — He's called Red Hood, he learned. Very creative. Luckily, they had been meeting while Danny was in his human form so it wasn't the case of the red stalker again.

"We have to stop meeting like this, kid." Red Hood sighed, his hands on his hips as he stared at Danny with amusement.

Danny found himself hanging from the edge of a building, his hands sweaty and aching as he tried to keep his grip on the edge, his feet dangling below him and Red Hood standing underneath him.

"You're telling me. You always just hang around dark alleys, or is that just for me?"

"Clearly you're fine if you're able to make a sarcastic remark in this situation." Red Hood chuckled, reaching up to grab a hold of Danny's legs.

"Would you rather me be screaming bloody murder?" Danny slowly let go of the edge and let Red Hood help him down.

"Fair enough." Red Hood checked Danny, making sure he wasn't injured. He patted the boys head, "You got a death wish or you just clumsy? Try and be more careful unless you want a trip to the ER."

Danny nodded, ducking under Red Hood's hand. "You got it, I'll be more careful." He grinned, his hands behind his back as he crossed his fingers.

He got an unimpressed stare in response.

"At least stop falling from roofs." The man shook his head, feeling exhausted already. He could tell this kid wouldn't stop whatever he was doing. He was just like Damian in that aspect.

"Gotcha, I'll try." Danny gave a two fingered salute, "Welp, see ya later Hood." He casually walked out of the alley, checking over his shoulder to make sure Red Hood wasn't following him or anything before he took off and went back to the rooftop he was currently taking refuge on.

Settling down, he opened the plastic bag of snacks he had been slowly accumulating. He was still "stealing" from the people who try and come after him. He was mainly using the money for food. He could find an inn or something to stay in, but liked the rooftops more.

He picked up a freshly bought apple, biting into it as he sat cross cross applesauce. He was thinking out his next move.

"I need a map."

* * * * * * *

"Wow, this place is big." Danny whistled as he stared at the map he had purchased from a small street stand. He also learned that Gotham was in New Jersey — he was really far from Amity Park.

"We aren't in Illinois anymore, Toto."

He has asked the lady at the stand where this street was. Can you guess? Yep, Crime Alley. Fantastic name. Not worrying at all.

He crossed off all the places he had checked for the rift already — making sure notes to check them again later — and decided to venture deeper into Gotham.

"What could go wrong?"

Oh how he wishes he just kept his mouth shut.

Chapter Seven: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>

Chapter Text

Jason's POV:

Lately, when he was on his patrols, he often swung by crime Alley. Even when he didn't need to. A few of the others seemed to have caught on to this but said nothing. He was grateful. He wouldn't have known how to answer. He still doesn't.

The reason had to be the kid he kept seeing around there. He looked around Damian's age. Maybe it was just his (non-existent) brotherly instincts kicking in when he saw the kid. He didn't seem to be able to leave the kid alone.

Of course, every time he saw the kid, he was either hanging from the roof or stealing from people. He couldn't blame the kid though, the people he was stealing from had also mugged others before. Karma, he thought.

The problem came when Jason found the kid sleeping on a roof in the middle of the afternoon, snoozing away while clutching a thermos to his chest.

It was then that a thought popped into his head. Was this kid homeless? He should report it right? A kid sleeping on a roof? He really felt like he should report it but he didn't. He woke the kid up instead.

"What's going on, kid?"

* * * * * * * * * *

Danny's POV:

Everything's fine. Everything is perfectly fine. It's not like some stranger he kept meeting had figured out where he had been sleeping. Or seemed extremely concerned about him. Or asked him if he was homeless. Fine, right?

Who is he kidding? Nothing is fine!

All Danny wanted was a small nap. He hadn't slept the night before and was tired. So he stopped to take a nap before he went on his way to find more ghosts.

And then this happened.

Was he unlucky? Or just unlucky?

"I'm not homeless! Or Orphan! I didn't run away from home! I have parents. I'm just.... visiting relatives and I got bored so I slipped up here." The half-truthful lie slipped easier than he expected. Granted, he had gotten good at lying ever since he became Phantom.

Red Hood didn't look convinced but Danny wasn't going to say anymore. He couldn't afford to go into child services or whatever they were called.

He hugged the Thermos tighter, trying to keep a confident look in his eyes like nothing was wrong. Because everything was wrong.

He heard the man sign, his hands clenched into tight fists. He wanted to lighten the atmosphere, maybe find some way to make the man leave.

Red Hood beat him to it.

"Are you eating properly? Are your relatives nice to you?"

Danny didn't know why this man cared so much. From what he had gathered, Red Hood was a vigilante. Who took care of the bad guys in the dark, had a mysterious personality or whatnot, all the dramatic stuff that Danny did back at Amity Park except with Ghosts.

"Yep! You wouldn't believe how good food can taste when it's cooked on a real stove and not the sewer grate." He chuckled, throwing in a joke to help liven the tension in the air.

Red Hood let out a light chuckle, rubbing Danny's hair despite the shout of protest. "Just take care of yourself. I really don't want to have catch you if you fall from the roof again."

"That only happened once!" Danny exclaimed, groaning swatted the hand away from his head.

It has happened a day or two ago, Danny had been chasing a ghost across the roof again — you'd think he'd have learned not to do that but... Danny was being Danny — and he tripped over the edge, was unable to grab the edge to catch himself and landed right on top of Red Hood — who had been passing by.

Neither of them were too hurt, thankfully but he got a good scolding from the vigilante about how dangerous that was.

That didn't stop Danny from doing it again, of course.

"But seriously, kid, you need to be more careful. You're gonna get hurt one day."

Danny was aware, he was doing all this in his human form now so it was a bit too easy to get hurt now. But he can't stop. Who knows when his phantom form would come back. Would it come back? He didn't know, so he had to do what he could right now.

Even if he got hurt. Getting home was more important to him than that.

"You got it, Red man." Danny shot him finger guns, grinning. He could almost feel the glare the man gave him through his mask. He ignored it. Like always.

Red Hood didn't reply for a moment. He still looked tensed, leaving Danny to feel awkward with his finger guns still on the air. Slowly, he relaxed, like he had realized that Danny wasn't going to listen to him, no matter how many times he scolded him.

"You're lucky I don't mind troublemakers." He muttered, crossing his arms. "Don't make me regret trusting you."

Danny nodded, giving a two finger salute again. "Gotcha! You won't regret it!"

* * * * * * *

Jason regrets it. He severely regrets trusting the kid. He should have known he was lying earlier. He did know. But the look on the kids face, in his eyes, made him feel like he wouldn't see the kid again it so he didn't question him.

He didn't entirely believe the whole "visiting relatives" things but again, he didn't want to scare the kid away.

Now, he wished he had said something, called out the lie, took the kid back his place, something. Anything.

Going back to a few hours ago....

He had just finished his patrol. He had changed back into normal clothes in the Batcave. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head as he shut his locker.

He noticed Tim still sitting at the desk, the screens still lit and illuminating his face. He figured he'd surprised Tim, scare him maybe, since it wasn't often he came back.

The reason this time was for a family dinner, Alfred had asked him to come back and everyone knows he can't refuse Alfred, so here he was.

He snuck up behind Tim, smirking as he caught a glimpse of the screen. His smirk fell instantly.

"What the hell?"

He vaguely heard Tim tumble out of the chair but he paid it no mind, his eyes focusing on the screens. Specifically, on the surveillance image of a glowing teen standing on a rooftop which was side by side with a picture of... Can you guess?

If you guessed the kid Jason had just been with. The kid that Jason had just scolded for sleeping on a rooftop. The one who said he was fine. Then you were right.

God damn it.

Chapter Eight: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>

Chapter Text

Danny's POV:

Danny had been avoiding Red Hood lately. Ducking behind walls, running away as soon as he spotted the masked vigilante, you name it, he probably did it. The reason? He was 99% sure the vigilante had caught on to him and his little white lie — how he was visiting relatives and all that.

The vigilante had been very persistent the last few days, trying to get Danny to talk more about himself, or more about his "family" and all that. It was pretty obvious.

So, Danny had decided to move to a different area. He figured he'd explored Crime Alley enough. He had checked everywhere, his map was practically all red now with crosses.

The rift still hadn't been found.

"Time to move on." He said, holding a plastic bag with all the small things he had bought, "I'll miss you, Crime Alley... Well, probably not but hey, we had fun times."

• * * * * *

Jason POV:

Jason was thoroughly confused. It hadn't been even a week since Tim and Barbara had caught him up on recent events — the fact that the glowing teen and the non-glowing smart-mouthed kid were the same person.

So, he had tried his best to get closer to the kid and try to find out how bad his situation was. Only problem was, he was being avoided. It had been three days and he had only caught a small glimpse of the boy before he disappeared.

He told Barbara and Tim, they were sure that the kid probably realized that Jason was getting suspicious of him.

"So, what now? We just let the kid vanish again?" Jason said, tapping his foot against the ground as he ran a hand through his hair.

Tim was sipping coffee, Jason wasn't sure how many cups he'd seen Tim go through — it had been at least three.

Simultaneously he was typing away at the computer, eye bags and pale skin galore.

"I may have a way." Tim said, setting his mug down and leaning back in the swivel chair. "Multiple, to be exact."

That doesn't sound good. Jason thought, Tim's way to wound up on coffee, no sleep and adrenaline.

Sorry, kid.

* * * * * * *

Danny POV:

Danny wasn't sure where he was going. Not that he really cared — as long as he got away from Red Hood and that stalker, he was fine with anywhere. So, he walked and walked and walked until he got tired and then got on a bus.

He managed to take a short nap — he didn't want to get mugged on a bus, that would be pretty pathetic — and by time he woke up, he was somewhere called Coventry. It certainly looked nicer than Crime Alley so he couldn't complain.

He got off the bus and started walking around again. He first needed somewhere to stay, like a rooftop again then, he needed to start searching for the rift.

He had a busy day ahead of him.

He found a random rooftop and set his plastic bag down. He once again tried to go ghost. It hadn't been working, ever since he transformed back into his human form when he met Red Hood.

He couldn't keep going on like this. He needed his powers if he was going to take care of the rift, plus he didn't think his thermos could take very many more ghosts but he had no where to dump them.

"Hah, stupid red Hood. I was perfectly fine in crim alley but he just had to try and get to know me! How did he even find out? I haven't been able to transform ever since I met him." Danny ranted, tossing a rock off the roof and grinned when it hit someone on the head. They shouted something rude — Danny was too far to hear but it made him grin wider.

"Oops. Oh well." He shrugged. "Maybe he's in cahoots with that red stalker guy. That would make sense."

He sighed, kicking the gravel in the roof. Every day without his powers made him feel powerless, wrong, like he was trapped.

Which... he kind of was since he really couldn't leave Gotham in this state of runaway ghosts and unstable rift.

He kept an eye on his surroundings, he half expected to see Red Hood pop out of a trash can or see the red stalker standing ominously behind him.

They were weird like that.

He rested for a while — feeling safer on the root than a bus — before he went out looking for ghosts to question again.

Conventry was very different from Crime Alley, he realized. Crime Alley was dirty, dangerous, and chaotic. Conventry was relatively clean, quiet and eerie.

It was a breath of fresh air, honestly. He could walk the streets without worrying about being mugged.

There were only a few people on the streets. He saw an old woman sweeping her porch, a man in a suit walking down the street hurriedly. He rarely saw a car pass through. Barely any noise. Just the soft wind.

"Creepy." He muttered.

It was around late afternoon now and the sun was setting slowly in the distance. He explored around for a bit but surprisingly didn't come up on any ghosts. He could barely even feel one. It was weird.

Confused, he headed back to his rooftop for now.

"I'll try again later. Maybe they like the dark better." He commented, pulling out something to eat from his plastic bag. He'd have to find some way to get more money or he'd run out of food. He was able to mug other thieves but he wasn't sure Conventry had thieves seeing how well taken care of it was.

- - - - -

It has been around three weeks since Danny wound up in Gotham. Three weeks since the explosion. Three weeks since he had seen his family and Friends.

He wouldn't lie, it was getting pretty lonely just talking himself. In crime Alley he had Red Hood to talk to occasionally.

But he didn't have that now.

So he went back to talking to himself. At least it wouldn't be quiet.

He suppressed his loneliness pretty well, he thinks. It'll only be for a little. He'll solve the rift. Get rid of these ghosts. Then go home. And everything will go back to normal. He'll be able to use his powers again. He won't have to worry about food. Money. He knows it.

- - - - -

It happened while he was sleeping. Dreaming about his family. About Amity Park. About when things were normal. Well, as Normal as they could get.

What exactly happened, you might be asking. Don't worry, Danny was asking himself that question too.

Danny had somehow transformed back into his Phantom form. Phased through the roof he was on and... He wasn't exactly sure how to explain the next events.

He had woken up after hearing shouts and whispering. He briefly wondered if he had gone back home but then he opened his eyes and saw a crowd of old people staring at him.

He blinked, they blinked.

He looked around the room, there weren't any lights on, instead they had lit candles in a circle on the ground. In the middle of the circle was plate of waffles.

Again, probably not the weirdest thing he has seen but it's certainly up there.

"Uh, did I interrupt your... ritual?" Danny asked, not sure how he should word this.

The old people were still staring at him, wide eyed and pale. They were whispering to each other, except they were old and their ears didn't work as well as they used to so their whispering was more like yelling.

Meaning Danny heard everything they said.

"We actually did it!"

"We summoned the king!"

"It finally worked!"

Needless to say, he was more confused than ever.

Chapter Nine: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>>

Chapter Text

Dick POV:

Dick was on a mission. He'd been in Bludhaven when he'd been contacted by Barbara and asked to help out with something. Apparently, there were signs of a cult taking place in Coventry.

So he headed over to Conventry as soon as he could. He'd been there for about two weeks now and he had found barely anything. He almost gave up, thinking it was just baseless rumors circulating.

Until he did find something.

...but what exactly was he looking at?

A circle of candles, a plate of waffles, a crowd of old and a glowing kid with a crown of .. was that tinfoil?

* * * * * *

Danny was sitting at a dining table, a plate of waffles in front of him, wearing a tinfoil crown surrounded by old men and woman who were staring at him with expectation in their eyes.

He still had no clue what was happening but he could gather that they believed he was some sort of king. Maybe of waffles? They certainly had lots of waffles.

"...uh, look, I think you've got the wrong guy." Danny said, pushing the plate away. "I'm not .. a king or whatever you were trying to summon."

The old crowd whispered — yelled, they really needed hearing aids or something — and one man stepped up to the table. He looked like he was the leader of the group by the way he presented himself.

"Your highness, we are your humble servants!" The man bowed dramatically, shouting as he spoke. The crowd repeated the man's words and actions.

Danny had a group of old folks bowing to him like he had just saved them.

"We have tried for ten years to summon you and we finally have!"

Ten years? Danny's eyes widened, what was so important that they had tired ten years to summon some king? Danny felt the need to cover his ears from how loud they were being. He sighed, waiting until they finished shouting before he spoke again.

"Like I said, I'm not a king. I was just sleeping on your roof when I fell through and happened upon this scene." Danny said, standing from the chair. "Also, why waffles?"

The man cleared his throat, "Because they are tasty! And the prophecy said our king would rise or fall where the syrups runs golden and true!"

Danny blanked, "...right."

So they were crazy. Good to know.

Danny took a second to really think about what he should say next. The old people didn't look harmful or like they could even hold a spoon properly so he probably wasn't in immediate danger. But it was best to be careful.

"Uh, okay... well... why exactly did you summon me?"

Might as well have some fun with it, plus free food. Well, waffles. Maybe they'd even let him sleep on an actual bed.

* * * * * *

Dick's POV:

He was currently perched on a the edge of a building, using binoculars to staring into an open window of an apartment building.

He was trying to work out what he seeing. It seemed like there really was a cult in Conventry. He was used to cults. Blood cults, cults that worshipped the devil, or killer plants, but never a waffle cult. This was new.

And they actually summoned someone. Was that a meta that just happened to teleport to the wrong place, wrong time? Or... Did those old folks actually summon someone?

He was full of questions, full of curiosity. He decided to tell Barbara first, let her know the situation then take action.

This mission was finally picking up.

* * * * * *

Danny's POV:

The cultists were currently explaining their prophecy about their king. They were sitting in the living room, the circle of waffles and candles still in the middle of the room.

"It's states that our king will rise where the syrup flows, the stars must be aligned, a golden brown, and the king would eat what arose from the smoke of a machine."

"...you mean the toaster?"

"Yes. Exactly." The old man nodded seriously, kneeling in front of Danny. The crowd behind him nodded as well.

"Okaaay," Danny drew out the word, tapping his lap as he looked around the apartment. "Soooo, what exactly did you summon me for?"

The old man looked excited now, "We humble servants ask your king to help us!"

"Help you how?" Danny raised a brow. If it was something simple like getting rid of ghosts or fighting off bad guys then he could do that easy peasy.

"We cannot make anything other than waffles!"

"..." Danny paused, "What?"

* * * * * *

He had been summoned to help these old people learn to cook something other than waffles. Instead of... You know, hiring someone to cook for them! They certainly had the money to.

He told them that he needed to rest for a day before he could do anything. Being "summoned" took a lot out of him. So they let him stay in a spare room, one they specifically prepared for their king so it was decked out in black and fancy furniture.

Wasn't really his taste but hey, he'd take literally anything at this point. It was better than the laundry he had landed on when he first met Red Hood.

He sank down into the bed, finally relaxing with a deep sigh. It took barely a second for him to pass out, snoring as he was sprawled out like a star fish.

He didn't even care that ghosts were still roaming around, that there was a rift out their spewing out ghosts like candy. All he cares about was getting some sleep.

* * * * *

He slept for a full day. An entire day. Like... 24 hours. He didn't even realize how tired he was until he woke up to find it was early morning on a Tuesday. He remembered it being afternoon on a Sunday when he had encountered the cultists.

He was still in his Phantom form but he wasn't phasing through things like crazy anymore so that was good.

Stretching his sore body, he stumbled to the only window in the room and peeked through the black curtains. It was early morning and the streets were empty at this time.

However he thought he saw the glint of something in a window across the street before it disappeared. He narrowed his eyes, making an mental note to keep an eye on that window.

Just then, he smelled...

Smoke?

He blinked, rushing out of the bedroom into the hallway. He noticed black smoke coming from the kitchen. He rushed through the door — too worried to even take into account that he just phased through the door without thinking — and saw a handful of old folks scurrying around the kitchen trying to put out the fire that had started.

One of the old woman was fanning the flame with a paper fan, another was trying to work the fire extinguisher, and another was praying to the ... waffle gods?

"..." Danny could barely even process what he was seeing. I can see why they tried to summon to help them. They're gonna burn the house down at this rate.

Chapter Ten: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>>

Chapter Text

Dick's POV:

A day passed without incident from the cult, Dick used this time to report back to Barbara. Needless to say, he got laughed at after explaining that the cult was actually a waffle cult that may have summoned a meta. He had to listen to Barbara laugh for at least five minutes.

Once Barbara had finished her laughing, she told him to just keep an eye on them for a day or two longer than she needed him back at the Batcave. It sounded important. So, he was determined to not stay for much longer.

He just needed to confirm that the cult was harmless. And that the Meta wasn't a danger either.

It was early morning when he noticed something off about the apartment. It was mainly the fact that there was black smoke billowing out of the window.

He was about to go help when he felt eyes on him. He looked at one of the windows across from him, noticing a slight glow behind the glass. He quickly put away his binoculars, ducking behind the curtain until the gaze went away.

He narrowed his eyes, "that Meta's still there, are they being held captive?" He wondered, hurrying out of the apartment complex he was holding up in. He raced across the street and up three flights of stairs to the apartment door that had black smoke coming from under the door.

He burst in, immediately taking count of how many people were inside and started dragging them out, two at a time. Just cause they were cultists didn't mean they needed to die.

"Ahh! The fan isn't working!!" An old lady was shouting, still trying to fan the fire away. Her paper fan caught on fire and she tossed it away, only for it to land under a curtain which then caught on fire.

The only fire extinguisher there was currently being thrown out a window in a fit of anger from an old man who couldn't get it work.

"Please, waffle gods, bless up and hear my prayer! We weren't trying to anger you by making different food, we were simply trying to feed our king!"

And there was an old woman praying to what sounded like Waffle gods.

He didn't have time to question anything — as much as he wanted to — the whole thing went by pretty fast. He had managed to drag all the old folks out — he had checked the place out when he first got assigned this mission and he knew that only the old folk lived in the building so he didn't have to worry about the other floors — just in time as the fire got worse. He set them down outside on the pavement, hearing the law enforcement getting closer.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, looking around to see if the Meta had gotten out yet. He was about to rush off to look for them when an old woman grabbed his wrist.

"Wait! Young hero, where is our king!" She shouted, her face covered in black soot.

"Uh, your king? The one that glows? He's still inside?" Dick asked, briefly wondering about the title they used.

The old woman nodded, "Yes! He is our waffle king and we need him to help us! You must save him!"

Dick blanked for a second, "...waffle king, right." He judged the time he had, the building was collapsing fast. He ran back inside the building and into the burning apartment.

"Hello?! Is anyone inside still?" He shouted, coughing as the smoke entered his lungs. He could barely see, and the fire was nearly scorching but he didn't once think about leaving until he rescued the Meta still inside. Though, he had to be careful where he stepped, otherwise he would go tumbling through the weak floorboards.

"...waffle king?" He tried, not expecting an answer.

He got one.

"I'm not the waffle king!" A voice shouted from further into the apartment. He could practically hear the annoyance in the voice.

Dick rushed down the hallway, seeing picture frames hanging on the wall. There were pictures of the old folks and their families, he frowned but saving others was more important than pictures.

He ran into a room at the end of the hallway, it had black furniture and looked considerably more expensive than the rest of the apartment. Also, very gloomy. Definitely not fitting for a waffle king.

"Are you in here? I got everyone else out, we need to leave!" Dick shouted, searching for the person. He waved away the smoke in his face, the fire wasn't too close to the room but they needed to hurry before the entrance collapsed.

"Look, as much as I appreciate you trying to help me, I can handle myself. A bit of fire won't hurt me." The voice said, Dick couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from exactly.

"Come on, don't make this hard for me. Those old folks down there are worried about you." Dick said, trying to avoid a beam that fell down behind him. "Also, this place is about to collapse."

There was sigh, and then a head peeked over the bed. The boy had silver hair, green glowing eyes and had a slight glow to him. He was wearing a black jumpsuit that had the letter D on the front.

Definitely a Meta, Dick thought.

"Okay, we really have to go. I don't feel like explaining to those people that their waffle king refused to come out and got crushed to death."

The boy rolled his eyes, "I'm not refusing to come out, I'm trying to grab something." He paused, looking Dick — who was currently in his Nightwing outfit — up and down. "Hey, you can touch stuff, come help me."

Dick furrowed his brows but walked over, "Well then let's hurry." The building was collapsing around them at a hurried rate, so they had to be quick. Like someone you're butt on fire and you need water quick.

"It's under the bed, but I can't get it." The boy explained, pointing under the bed to a thermos that had rolled all the way to the back.

Dick sighed, pushing the bed out of the way and grabbing the metal thermos. "Here."

The boy stood up, grabbing the thermos. At least, he should have grabbed it but it fell through his palm and landed with a thud on the ground.

"Ugh! Seriously!" The boy groaned, gripping his hair. "I just want to pick it up! Why won't you listen to me?!" He shouted at his hands.

Dick silently picked up the thermos, "Let's just go, I'll hold it for you." He ha Danny questions, as anyone probably would, but they could wait until they were safe and not standing in a crumbling building.

Obviously, the boy did you really trust him but had no other choice at the moment. They nearly couldn't get out of the front of the door with how bad the fire was. Luckily, they made it in time. A second after they stepped onto the sidewalk, the building collapsed behind them with a loud crash and debris flew everywhere.

"...that was my room." Danny frowned.

"...oops?"

• * * * * * *

Danny's POV:

Danny wasn't even sure what was happening right now. Things have been so messed up ever since he arrived in Gotham that he really hadn't had a good chance to think. Think about everything that happened. Sure, he had passing thoughts but he never really sat down and worked through it all.

He wasn't sure if he really wanted to but he guessed now was a good opportunity to really think about what led him to this point.

So let's review!

First, he had been in Amity Park, messing around with his parents ghost portal after something happened to it. Sam and Tucker were with him, they had been trying to fix it before his parents found out.

But then, the machine exploded and sent Danny tumbling into Gotham, some place he didn't even know existed.

Then, he found out about the existence of an unstable rift throwing ghosts into Gotham at random but even better was that Danny couldn't sense this rift and had to actively search for it.

Not to mention the fact that he had to take care of the hostile ghosts he encountered, a stalker in red, Red Hood, and now....

Now he had to worry about this waffle cult that he stumbled onto, a burning down building and a man in a black and blue costume that was holding his thermos.

Why can't he catch a break?

• * * * * *

He Really couldn't catch a break, apparently.

After the building collapsed, the police and fire fighters arrived soon after. Luckily, the building was only occupied by the old folks and thus was empty when it went down.

The man in the black and blue costume began talking to the police and seemed to have a positive relationship with them.

But then, one of the officers spotted Danny. And everything just devolved from there. That officer assumed that Danny had been the one to cause the fire, seeing as he was a Meta.

Danny wanted to argue that he wasn't but by these people's terms, he technically was.

"Why would I start the fire? These people gave me a room to sleep in! And waffles!" Danny argued, staring at the officers like he was crazy.

That was the bed he had finally managed to acquire after three weeks of sleeping on roofs. He'd have to have been crazy to have started the fire.

He eyed the alley, taking a single step back. Should he run? Go invisible? Could he go invisble? He was already intangible but who knew how long that would last.

But before he could take another step, the man in black and blue stepped forward with a frown on his face.

"You really think he'd stick around if he set the fire? If it was me, I'd be running for the hills. He was staying with these... kind folk who took him in. He didn't start the fire."

Huh, surprising. Danny thought, he didn't expect anyone to defend him.

"Yeah, our waffle king would never dare start a fire!" One of the old woman shouted, encouraging the others to start shouting out praise for Danny, their waffle king.

"He is our Savior!"

"How could he ever harm us!"

"We are his loyal followers!"

"Long live the waffle king!!"

Danny... Danny wanted to disappear. He wanted to dig a hole and hide. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him just so he could escape this situation.

He had become the king, the leader, of a cult. Sam would be proud.

• * * * * *

Good news: due to the man in black and blue, Danny avoided going to jail as a suspect. Bad news: The man was now following him. He has gained another stalker. Why was he so popular lately? Was it a Gotham thing?

"Uh, look, I appreciate you helping me out of a tough spot but could you maybe stop following me?" Danny turne around, facing the man behind him, folding his arms over his chest.

The man chuckled, holding out Danny's thermos. "I figured you'd want this back. Unless you don't?"

Danny immediately tried to snatch the thermos back but his hands phased through it again.

"Agh! Stupid hands!" Danny shouted, glaring at his intangible hands. He heard the man laughing, so he turned his glare towards him.

"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. Do you have someplace to stay for the time being? I'll take you back and drop this off."

The cultists had — unfortunately — had to go back to their actual homes. They didn't live in the apartment building but had just rented it out to summon their king. Apparently, they had run away from their families — who tried to get the old folks psychological help because they kept going on and on about a waffle king.

So, Danny was out of a bed and waffles.

"I've got a rooftop." Danny said, sighing as he started walking down the alley again. But then he paused. "Wait. Oh no. Nononono! Come on!" He shouted, attempting to kick a wall in frustration. His leg phased through.

"Let me guess, that apartment building roof was where you were staying?" The man behind him guessed.

A shout of frustration from Danny confirmed the man's guess.

"Double oops?"

Chapter Eleven: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>

Chapter Text

Danny POV:

So, say a stranger in a weird costume invited you to his apartment because your previous rooftop collapsed after a fire that had been started by waffle cultists... Would you agree?

Normally you wouldn't, right?

Well, normally, you wouldn't be in a weird city, have unstable powers, have a sore back from sleeping on roofs or be so done with literally everything.

Can you really blame Danny for agreeing to go back the stranger?

It's his fault if he gets killed, chopped up and buried in some place.

Plus, this man still had his thermos so he really didn't have much of a choice.

• * * * * *

Dick POV:

He really didn't mean to sound like a creep when he invited the Meta teen to the apartment he was using to spy on the cult.

He just felt bad that the teen didn't have anywhere else to stay, plus the kid looked around Damian's age and he just couldn't ignore him.

So, they entered the empty apartment that has no owner at the moment. The teen immediately started looking around, like he was looking for weak spots or for anyone hiding waiting to ambush him — which was fair.

Dick set the thermos down on a coffee table and wondered what he was supposed to do next. He was still wearing his Nightwing suit, should be change and explain to the Meta about his identity? That seemed stupid, he just met the kid.

"Hey, uh..." The boy came back from a random room, looking hesitant.

"Yeah? Something wrong?" Dick asked, trying to appear approachable.

"You're not gonna kill me, or anything right? Or like, kidnap me?"

There was a beat of silence. That escalated fast.

"Sorry?" Dick smiled, confused.

"Well, you have binoculars, throwing weapons, a grapple line, and a lot of other things on the table in that room, plus the window is right across from the apartment building I was staying in." The kid said, staring at Dick like he had just admitted to stalking him.

Which... Wasn't entirely wrong.

"...about that..."

• * * * * * *

Dick finally explained everything to the kid, about how he had been spying on the waffle cult, not the him. He saw the kids shoulders finally untense.

"Oh, well you really should clean up before inviting strangers over." He said before walking over to his Thermos. He tried to grab it, unsuccessful. He tried again. No luck. The kid groaned, frustrated.

"So, do you mind me asking about..." Dick gestured to the kids hands, that were see through at the moment.

"Ah, right. Forgot. You guys in Gotham probably don't know much about Ghosts, huh?" The teen stood up again, looking up at Dick with a glint of something in his eyes.

"Ghosts? Well, can't say I do. But my Brother may know more about them. He's really into research." Dick said, trying to liven up the atmosphere.

"You have a brother? You seem more like the loner type, honestly." The kid scoffed, chuckling.

"Hey! I have a great family, I'll have you know! I have adorable brothers who may or may not try to kill me for saying that." Dick huffed, flicking the kids forehead playfully.

"Ouch." The kid deadpanned, instantly kicking Dick's shin and then ignored the man who groaned in pain as he held his leg.

"So then you just live alone instead with your 'adorable brothers'?" The kid used air quotes, like he didn't believe Dick.

"...only for a bit. I was keeping an eye on the waffle cult, so I may have broke into this place. I'll be leaving soon though, I've already sent in a report to my sister." Dick rubbed his aching shin as he watched the boy walk around the sparse living room.

"Ah, you've got a sister too." The kid said, he sounded more sincere this time. "I have one too. An older sister."

Dick blinked, surprised by the sudden admittion. "Oh yeah? Where is she? I could probably take you to her If she's close enough." He offered, glad the kid had someone at least.

"Ah, no. It's fine." The kid shook his head, a frown on his face. "She lives far away. Plus, I've got stuff to do here anyway." A vulnerable look in his eyes made Dick feel bad, worse than before, but it disappeared just as quickly as it appeared.

"So," the kid turned to Dick, "you got any food?"

• * * * * * *

Danny's POV:

Danny couldn't complain about the apartment, at least it had walls and not like — an open sky and pigeons that could very well poop on him while he slept. Plus there was a bed. What more could he want?

"So, ghosts?" The man brought the topic back to what Danny said earlier. He was talking pretty softly, like he was scared of scaring Danny, which was weird — Danny didn't scare easily these days.

Danny shrugged, this would be a long talk if they got started. "It's a long story. And I tell it bette with fries. You got any money?"

The man chuckled, "Fine. Stay here, I'll get some food. I doubt you can even help me carry it right now."

Before Danny could bite back a response, the man had left the apartment.

"...does he know I could just, like, rob him right now? He just left a stranger in his apartment alone. He's probably not very smart." Danny muttered his breath, wandering around the apartment again.

The walls were empty, the floor was wooded and cold, there was sparse decor and furniture. There was a coffe table, a bed in one of the rooms, a fridge and a stove. The whole apartment was pretty cold, in fact.

"Does he actually live here? I'm starting to doubt it now." Danny scoffed, rubbing his cold arms. Was it always this cold?

Suddenly, he breathed out and blue fog came out. He paused, looking around as he tried to sense for ghosts. He found one in the bathroom. Trembling in the corner of the bathtub.

Well, that was less than intimidating.

"Well hello there." Danny said, leaning against the doorway.

The ghost froze, turning it's head. It was shaking like a leaf, staring at Danny like he was predator. He was towards ghosts at least.

"You gonna cooperate with me or are you gonna make me use force?" Danny asked, stepping further into the bathroom.

The ghost hiccuped, shaking its head. "I-I'll cooperate!!"

Danny grinned, "Good. Now, what do you know about the rift? Did you come through it too?" He asked, keeping his back to the bathroom door — not like it would do much good since the ghost could just phase through the walls.

"Th-The rift? You mean... The big, glowing crack thing?" The ghost slowly uncurled itself and sat in the middle of the tub.

"Uh, sure. I haven't actually seen it so I don't know what it looks like." Danny crossed his arms, "Tell me more."

"Well, I-I was just... minding my own - own business when I-I felt my-myself get sucked through th-the crack and I... I found myself here... There were rr-really pretty bathrooms in th-these apartments so... I chose an unoccupied on-one."

Danny nodded through the explanation, Ghosts really have weird haunting spots. One likes dumpsters, one likes bathrooms.

"But then... That gu-guy in black and bl-blue showed up and - and started li-living here. I've been hid-hiding for a few days..."

"Any idea where the rift is?"

The ghost said it had disappeared after it dumped him out, so... it was definitely moving. That wasn't good for Danny.

After getting all the information he could, Danny sent the ghost on its way to find a new apartment. He sat on the toilet lid, sighing as he stared at the ceiling.

He closed his eyes, relaxing against the back of the toilet.

He had dozed for a minute and next thing he knew, he heard, "Do you always nap on toilets? Is it comfy?"

Danny fell off the toilet with a yelp, feeling like his heart was about to burst out his chest. He glared at the man who was smiling from the doorway with a few bags of fast food.

"Do you always scare your guests like this?"

"Nope, you're special." The man grinned.

"Great." Danny rolled his eyes.

Chapter Twelve: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>>>

Chapter Text

Dicks POV:

Dick had been getting to know the young Meta boy over the last three days. They had been staying in the empty apartment together. Dick had learned a few things — most notably, the kid slept like the dead. Not even the end of the world could rouse that boy when he was sleeping. Dick often had to check on him to make sure the he was still breathing.

Another thing he learned was that the kid couldn't control his powers. They were unstable, sometimes he could hold things, sometimes he couldn't, sometimes he could fly/float, sometimes he couldn't. There wasn't any rhyme or reason to the pattern of his abilities and when they were working.

He also learned that the kid wasn't from Gotham but he sure fit in perfectly. The kid said he was from somewhere called Amity Park but Dick didn't know of it. So, Dick had gotten a whole presentation about this Amity Park — minus the slideshow.

The one thing he had yet to learn was the kids name. He seemed adamant about not telling Dick. Though to be fair, Dick hadn't revealed his identity yet either and told the kid to just called him Nightwing. The kid had told him to call him Phantom. Not to mention, they never mentioned the ghosts the boy talked about even after having his fries. Dick felt cheated out fries after that.

Neither of them wanted to be truthful yet. Maybe they were just waiting for the other to go first.

• * * * * * *

It was on the third day that Dick suddenly remembered that Barbara had told him she needed back at the Batcave soon. It hadn't even crossed his mind. He'd been too busy trying to get closer to the young Meta he was rooming with.

So now, he had to make a choice.

Leave the kid here and go see Barbara.

Or

Tell Barbara something came up and it'd take a little longer for him to arrive.

He had a feeling the kid wouldn't come with if he knew where he was going so ...

• * * *

"Hey, kid." Dick walked into the living room, where Phantom was sitting in front of the coffee table, staring at his thermos like he was afraid it was about to blow up. "We need to talk."

Phantom looked at him, instantly looking a bit worried.

"Oh, it's not a bad talk. More like ... I have to go see my sister in a cave... which sounds weirder out loud than I thought it would." Dick trailed off, hearing how odd his words sounded. "Well, I have to leave for a bit. But you're free to stay here as long as you want." He clarified.

He saw Phantom give him a weird look before he fell into thought. He felt a bit hopeful that the kid would want to stay here. He would feel absolutely awful if the kid went back to being potentially homeless.

"Sure." Phantom said, nodding to himself. "I've got stuff to do anyway but having a bed to sleep in and a roof over — em>and not under — my head would be pretty nice."

"Great! I shouldn't be gone long." Dick smiled in relief, his worried finally leaving. "I'll make sure the fridge is stocked too so you don't starve."

"Oh how kind, mighty Nightwing." Phantom chucked, rocking back and forth on the ground.

"Yes, exactly. I'll even buy you waffles." Dick played along.

"Ah, my favorite. I can finally rule over my subjects." Phantom raised his head high, acting like a king over waffles.

Dick ruffled the kids hair, getting his hand smacked away in response. "Alright, see you later waffle king."

"Or never!" Phantom shouted playfully as Dick left.

• * * * * *

Apparently Dick had a good reason for being worried about Phantom.

He had to rub his eyes a few times to make sure he was seeing things correctly. The screen in front of him didn't change, so it must be real.

"So, what you're saying is that the kid I found is actually... what? A ghost fighting Meta that had managed to get slip on both Tim and Jason?"

Even Barbara seemed a bit surprised that Dick knew the kid.

"Wait, you know him? Dick, we've chasing him for weeks. Tim is going on a week of no sleep, Jason is so worried he's been coming here voluntarily. And you just... what, stumbled upon him?" She sighed, "This feels like a repeat of when Jason found out."

Dick paused. He now had a choice to either make up a story or tell Barbara all about how the kid had become the king of the waffle cult he told her about.

"...he became the king of a waffle cult." He blurt out.

"..." Barbara looked at him, "the same waffle cult you told me about? Those old people who couldn't cook anything other than waffles?"

Dick nodded, "Yes. He had been sleeping in the rooftop abd his powers went out of control and he fell through tht ceiling right in the middle of their ritual."

Trying to surpress her laughter, Barbara motioned for him to continue.

"...they wanted him to teach them how to cook, and made him wear a tinfoil hat. But then a fire broke out because they tried to cook, the building collapsed, no one was hurt, and they had to go back home. So I took the kid in since he didn't seem to have anywhere else to stay."

"Wow." Barbara burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "I've just got a meet this kid! He sounds like a riot."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

• * * * * *

Danny's POV:

Danny decided to call Jazz again. It had been a week or so since he last spoke to her. He was getting worried. He was sure she was getting worried.

Plus, Sam and Tucker. He wasn't sure if he was ready to talk to them yet. Who knew how long they would scold him for. And he was almost certain they would try and come to Gotham to find him. As much as he cared for them, he didn't need that on top of everything that was happening.

Luckily, Nightwing had left some money for him — he didn't ask where the money came from — so he took the change and headed to a phone booth. He prayed his hands worked this time.

"Okay.... so what exactly am I gonna tell her?" He muttered, "Not the waffle cult. Nope. Taking that to my grave." He mumbled to himself, ignoring the weird looks was he was getting as he walked down the street.

But of course, nothing can be simple for Danny Fenton.

He hasn't even done anything — unless you consider walking down the street with a slight glow around him — but that didn't stop someone from yelling—"Hey!! You!! Rogue Meta!!!"

He heard a voice scream from behind him before multiple screams erupted around him. He could barely make sense of what was happening, he felt people running away... from him.

"You know, I'd run but I'm mentally and physically exhausted." He sighed, slumping his shoulders as people screamed and ran from him.

And just like that, he was left alone on the street. Expect for one other person. He was now standing face to face — give it or take a few feet — with... a girl. Just a girl. His age but she looked younger cause of her height. Wearing a hoodie way to big for him and worn out sneakers.

Danny blinked.

"Yeah, I really don't have time for this." Danny turned and started away. He needed to find a phone booth before his hands turn intangible again.

Chapter Thirteen: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>>

Chapter Text

Danny's POV:

A hand grabbed his wrist, jerking him back. He groans, looking back at the girl — who was considerably shorter than himself — who had a determined look on her face.

"I've got you, rogue Meta! No more causing trouble!" The girl shouted, dragging Danny down the road somewhere.

Was glowing a crime here? Why was she acting like he did something unspeakable?

"Ten bucks says this ends badly. Fifteen says it’s my fault.” Danny muttered to himself, too exhausted to even struggle. "By the way, where are you taking me?"

"To the police station! Where else?" The girl shrugged, "You know, you really shouldn't be doing this! It's bad but you're lucky it was me who caught you and not someone like Batman."

Furrowing his brow, Danny asked, "Batman? Sounds corny. Who's that?"

He knew he messed up when the girl paused, looking over her shoulder at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

"You don't know BATMAN?!"

There goes his hearing.

• * * * * *

“He’s only the single most iconic vigilante in the known universe! He’s a legend! He has a theme! He’s got a cave! And you—” she jabbed a finger at his chest, “—don’t even know about the grappling hook!”

The girl had been rambling for at least twenty minutes about this Batman guy. Danny had just learned to ignore her. She didn't stop but he'd save himself the headache of replying.

"Great, I've been kidnapped by a eccentric fan girl." He muttered, sighing at his bad luck.

The girl had yet to let him go, steadily dragging him as she rambled about this vigilante. Actually, speaking of Vigilantes...

"Hey, do you know someone named Red Hood?" He figured he'd try his luck and learn more about the stalkers he had. Though, Red Hood wasn't as bad as the red stalker guy.

"Oh! Red Hood? He's like—okay, picture Batman, but if he listened to rock music, wore a leather jacket, and wasn’t afraid to break a few rules. He’s super intense, super cool, and kinda terrifying in the best way possible! He uses guns—which is, like, a big Bat-no-no—but he also has this tragic backstory and does that whole broody antihero thing. He’s basically Gotham’s edgy bad boy vigilante. 10/10 drama points."

Danny stared at her blankly after she finished her big speech, "Right." He took a breath, "Okay, look, I really can't afford to go to jail or whatever you guys have for "Meta's" so could we just... forget this ever happened?"

The girl stared at him, her hand on her hip as she looked him up and down. "Fine but you have to answer my questions and promise to never ever do anything bad!"

"Promise." That was a lie. Danny thought, smiling amicably.

"Great! Let's go then!" The girl started dragging Danny again. She already launched into her question phase, Danny knew today was going to be a long day.

• * * * * *

The girl was called Maps, obviously just a nickname so Danny told her to call him Phantom. He received a whirlwind of questions regarding his name in return.

They were walking down Gotham's streets, receiving odd looks. It's not every day they see a glowing boy and chaotic girl throwing questions left and right.

Danny wondered how much longer this would go one for.

"Do you have super strength? Or is that just ghost adrenaline?"

"Only strong enough to carry the weight of my bad decisions."

"Are you haunted? Do ghosts haunt you? Are you like… reverse haunted?"

"Yup. I haunt the ghosts. Real plot twist."

"What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever phased through?"

"My will to live."

And so on.

By time they realized it, the sun was setting and Danny had no clue where they were.

"Where are we? Did I really just get kidnapped?" Danny asked, looking around the area. They were on a main street, cars passing, passerbys eyeing them, brightly lit buildings on either sides of the road.

"Oh! We're in the Upper East side now! Sorry, sorry. I didn't realize we had walked that far!" Maps apologized, rubbing the back of her head with a smile.

"Uh-huh, well I need to get back... where did we come from?" Danny asked, looking at the girl. "I have, like, no sense of direction here. And I lost my map a long time ago."

So, Maps decided to bring him back to Coventry. Just in time too.

For a ghost attack.

Because why not?

The first sign of the ghost was the blue fog that came out of Danny's mouth as they got closer to the apartment building. He instantly felt a chill, Maps did as well and wondered why it was so cold out all of a sudden.

"Duck." Danny shoved the girls head down quickly just as a ghost zipped out of an alley and attacked Danny head on.

He dodged the attack, shoving Maps away to a safe distance as he sized up the ghost. It was a normal looking one — minus the furious look on its face.

“You’re gonna regret picking this fight. Or I will. Fifty-fifty.” Danny hyped himself up, clenching and unclenching his hands.

"WOW!! ITS AN ACTUAL GHOST!!" He heard Maps squeal from the sidelines, and clutched his head. He felt a headache coming on. "That's the COOLEST THING EVER!! Wait, are we in danger?"

The ghost — Nor Danny — gave a response, only zooming towards Danny again. Danny's fist connected with it and threw it a few feet away.

“I see we’ve all committed to bad decisions today.” He commented, "So, what's your deal? I capture one of your ghost friends?"

The angry ghost glared daggers at him, "You ruined my art!!" It jabbed an icy finger at the alley it had come from.

"..." Danny tilted his head, "your art?"

Inside the alley was layers of ice covering the walls, and the graffiti that was painted onto the brick. Danny didn't even know when that had happened.

"Oh, oops? Would it make you feel better if I said I didn't mean to?"

The fist he nearly got hit by told him the answer was no.

Chapter Fourteen: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>>

Chapter Text

Danny's POV:

The fight wasn't a big deal. Danny was used to fighting with ghosts, and this particular ghost wasn't that strong. The issue was... Maps squealing about the ghost and trying to cheer on Danny — it was not working.

"Go Phantom!! YOU'VE GOT HIM!! WATCH OUT! WAH, HE'S THROWING ANOTHER PUNCH!"

Danny wanted to freeze her mouth shut just so he could focus but if he did, he may not be able to unfreeze her so he didn't risk it. As much as he wanted.

"Look! I'm sorry for ruining your art! I didn't em>mean to! I'm sure it was good — as good as graffiti can be — so can we stop this already?" Danny tried to ask, dodging a punch.

"No! You deserve to die for ruining my precious art!" The ghost shouted, throwing another punch. This one connects with Danny's face.

"Ow! Wait, actually that didn't hurt." Danny rubbed his cheek, smirking. “You call that a punch? My math tests hit harder.” One of these days, he'd learn to stop provoking ghosts mid fight. But today was not that day.

The ghost only got more heated, and it's focus seemed to shift from the graffiti onto something else. Something Danny didn't expect.

"Phantom, you shouldn't even be here! This is all your fault!" It wailed, shooting ectoplasm energy Danny's way.

"Oops," Danny turned to the side to avoid the attack, "Okay, that one felt personal." But then, something the ghost said caught Danny's attention.

"Wait, you know me?" He stopped attacking, dodging any attention thrown his way. "Are you from Amity Park? And what's my fault exactly? There's one too many things that have been my fault." He was full of questions, feeling like Maps right now.

"If you hadn't caused that explosion, everything would be fine! You caused this! You opened that rift!" The ghost shouted, running out of energy to attack.

Well that's news to him, Danny thought. "So the explosion did make the rift. I thought so, but I had no proof." He muttered, holding his hands up to show he wouldn't attack anymore.

"Why don't we just all calm down and talk this out?" Danny asked, "I didn't mean to cause the rift. I'm trying to find it right now and fix everything."

Luckily for Danny, the ghost was too tired to attempt another attack. It floated mod-air, glaring at Danny. "It's too late. Soon, they will merge and then there's nothing the great Phantom can do." The ghosts voice took on an eerie tone, creeping Danny out.

"Merge? What's merging? You're not making much sense, buddy." Danny said, crossing his arms. "Just tell me, where is the rift? Do you know?"

The ghost spit out two words before it disappeared, "Wayne Manor."

• * * * * *

After the fight, Danny sat on the curb, rubbing his face where he had gotten hit a few times. The ghost may not have lots of strength but it kept targeting the same spot over and over.

He felt Maps sit next to him, her hands tapping her lap like she was about to burst out thousands of questions again but was clearly restraining herself. He was going to regret asking but he had no choice at this point.

So, he bit the bullet and asked.

"What's Wayne Manor?"

He instantly regretted it.

“Oh, you sweet clueless cinnamon roll. Wayne Manor is only the most mysterious, historically creepy, Gotham-famous mansion in existence! Like, legit haunted-house-core. Old money, weird architecture, a billion rumors!”

sweet clueless cinnamon roll?> Danny briefly wondered about that before she kept rambling. He said a bunch of words he didn't understand but he got the gist of it all.

“People say it has secret tunnels, underground catacombs, maybe even a crypt! And did you know the whole estate is built on top of ley lines? Like, magical energy lines? That's gotta mean something, right?? It just screams 'spooky dimension portal' if you ask me!”

“Oh! And it’s home to Bruce Wayne! You know, Gotham’s favorite reclusive billionaire orphan! The dude vanished for years then came back like nothing happened — sus. Honestly, if anyone’s got a secret cursed rift in their basement, it’s him.”

“…You don’t think the Wayne's are involved in ghost stuff, do you? Like, secretly running a haunted underground ghost lab? I KNEW IT. I KNEW rich people were hiding stuff.”

Finally, she was out of breath and had to stop talking. Danny wondered just how fast she was actually speaking and that she probably had the lung capacity of a blue whale.

"So it's basically the equivalent of Amity Park high school. Got it." He said, ignoring all the questions he had. He started thinking about his next steps. He knew where the rift was. After three — or was it four now? — weeks of searching, reaching dead ends, getting stalked by weird vigilantes, becoming the king of waffles, and finding this weird girl who never stopped talking... He had finally gotten some progress. Hopefully the rift would still be there by time he arrived.

"Right, so where is this Wayne Manor?"

He had a bad feeling as he stared at Maps smiling face, this is gonna be troublesome

• * * * * *

Tim's POV:

He was entirely sure he was hallucinating right now. He had to be. He was running off ten cups of coffee, no sleep, and being around his idiotic family — Mainly Jason and Dick. So, it wouldn't a surprise if he had started hallucinating.

Except he wasn't. What he was seeing was real. Extremely real. So, so real that it physically hurt him to keep looking.

He took a deep breath. His hands shaking as he rubbed his forehead, a terrible throbbing making his head pound.

"What am I looking at?"

"Well not a cake." He got a smart-mouthed reply in return that made his head throb harder. He took a breathe, calming himself.

"Why... just why?"

"You want that actual answer or the one I made up?"

Tim took another breath, he didn't have the patience or energy to deal with this. He turned around, typing away at his phone and then looked back at the two kids caught in a net, hanging upside down from a tree. They were tangled up with their arms stuck to their sides.

The trap was courtesy of Damian — along with Jason who suggested the idea. No one actually thought it was necessary or would work but it did. No could refuse since it was something Damian suggested and it wasn't lethal — for once — but it had actually managed to catch these two kids trying to sneak in.

"How did you get past Motion sensors, infrared cameras, electrified fence, and pressure plates?" Tim asked, rubbing his temple tiredly.

"You want the shirt or long answer?"

Tim grit his teeth, "You know what? You just wait till Batman arrives and answer to him."

The glowing teen — Tim identified him as Daniel Fenton, he finally had a name to put to the face — had crossed his arms upside down and looked at Tim blankly.

“Okay? And am I supposed to cry now or something?” He didn't seem worried, at all in fact. Tim found it odd. Just the name Batman could make even the hardest of criminals panic yet this kid was reacting like Tim had just threatened him with a spoon.

Meanwhile, the girl trapped beside him was freaking out but not in the way Tim expected.

“WAIT. You’re calling BATMAN?! I’m not dressed for a Bat-meeting! Do I bow? Should I salute?? Oh my GOSH, I’ve been caught breaking into Wayne Manor and now Batman’s gonna put me on a No Sidekick List!”

Why couldn't have normal kids tried to break in?

"I'm not equipped to deal with this." Tim sighed, “You two are the worst criminals I've ever caught. You literally broke into Batman’s house. What did you think would happen?”

"I don't know, I didn't expect to get caught!" Daniel said, shrugging upside down. "I thought my plan was fool proof, even with this loud mouth beside me. You have all these high powered traps, why do you have such a stupid trap like a net on the ground?"

"You're the ones who got caught by "such a stupid trap"" Tim blanked, raising a brow at the proud teen who went silent.

"....still a stupid trap."

Chapter Fifteen: END
TO BE CONTINUED>>>>>