Chapter Text
Danny doesn’t walk straight into Gotham. Well, drive would be more accurate; Lois and Clark had loaded up the van and insisted on driving them to their new apartment, which was, apparently, courtesy of Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne. Billionaire genius playboy philanthropist who adopted stray kids like some folks adopted cats.
Honestly, he’s sort of glad Clark got there first. Freaking fruit loops.
Anyway.
He has Clark pull over a quarter mile before the city limits. It’s late enough there’s not much traffic, which is another thing he sort of insisted on, because this wasn’t exactly a daytime sort of thing to be doing.
A whispered “going ghost” kicks off his transformation; it’s different from his usual human one, ghost king regalia on full display (including crown and ring), and Danny hears a couple of shocked gasps from behind him. Oh yeah. Kinda forgot to tell them about that one.
“Danny,” Clark murmurs. “What is this?”
Danny turns and shrugs. “Long story short, I’m the Ghost King. Have been for what, three or four years now? Long story. Anyway, I asked you to stop because it’s rude to enter another ghost’s territory without permission, and Lady Gotham is extremely territorial.”
“Lady Gotham?” Lois’s question is answered a second later as a form coalesces in front of the group. Tall, regal, dripping in jewels made from oil and smoke, a gothic crown.
Danny nods. “I’ll explain later.” He steps forward. “Greetings, Lady. I see you received my summons.”
The figure bows her head in greeting, then nods once. “My sister and I wish to reside in your city. Do you have any objections?”
A shake of the head. No.
“Good. Anything I should know?” A swirl of smoke coalesces into a pair of figures. They’re vaguely familiar; Danny takes a moment to memorize them before a flick of Gotham’s fingers merges them together, along with another that looks very much like a gravestone.
“Oh. I see. I’ll take care of it.”
Another bow, this time in thanks. Lady Gotham disappears from view, and Danny turns back.
“We can go in now.”
“Daniel Fenton.” Oh no, that’s the journalist voice. “What exactly just happened?” Lois asks.
“City spirit. Literally, the essence of Gotham itself given form,” Danny says with another shrug. The cape and crown dissipate, leaving his normal ghostly outfit. “Gotham is her haunt. And, as Ghost King, she is one of my subjects. I could have just walked in, but that’s considered extremely rude and the haunt itself would’ve been fighting me every step of the way. Since the point of moving here in the first place is to find somewhere that’s easy for me to live, it’d be counterproductive at best.”
“Okay that makes sense,” Lois admits. “Why didn’t she speak?”
“Lady Gotham has been silenced for decades,” Danny replies. “She’s bound with curse upon curse- it’s one of the reasons Gotham will never be normal, despite all the charity work the Waynes do. The very ground is cursed, and it’s beyond my current skillset to fix that. I’m powerful but I’m still a baby ghost in a lot of ways, and I’m still trying to get the Realms back under control. It’s been basically anarchy for a century or two now.”
“I have so many questions,” Clark mutters. Danny grins at him. “What was that at the end?”
“Oh. A request.” The grin fades a bit. “Just one of my subjects in need of help. I’ll track him down as soon as we get settled. Might take a bit, it’s a big city and he’s apparently fairly elusive, but she gave me a couple of hints.”
Clark nods. “I see. Anything we can do to help?”
“Nah. Appreciate the offer, but this is Ghost King business.” A ring appears around Danny’s middle and splits; when it disappears, he looks human again. “Anyway, we should get moving. It’s late and I’m starving.”
The apartment is a third-floor walkup. Not bad, really, and in a half-decent part of town. Bruce had offered more, but Danny and Jazz had just rolled their eyes and said something about ‘rich fruit loops’, whatever that meant. The current place was a compromise; nothing fancy, but spacious, fully furnished, and Bruce was footing the bill for everything, including groceries.
Batman wasn’t about to let a member of the Justice League go homeless, especially in his city, after all.
Kon perks up as the van stops in front of the building. There’s a young man sitting on the front stoop, clad in a faded hoodie and jeans and typing away on his phone. Kon has the door open and is out of the van as soon as it’s parked. “Tim!”
“Kon!” Tim looks up with a grin and puts his phone away as Kon comes in for a kiss. “Hey. Missed you.”
“Missed you too. I’m surprised to see you. I thought Bruce was meeting us here?”
Tim grimaces. “B took a hit to the knee last night. It’s not bad, but A wants him off it for a couple of days, so I volunteered.”
“Fair.”
“Who’s this, Kon?” A tall- very tall, Tim has to look up nearly as far as he does with Jason- young man with black hair and blue eyes joins them. He’s dragging a pair of heavy-looking suitcases and has a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
Kon grins at him. “This is Timothy Drake-Wayne, aka my boyfriend. Tim, this is Danny Fenton and his sister Jazz.”
Tim reaches out a hand. Danny drops a suitcase and takes it in a firm handshake. Quietly enough that only Danny and the Supers can hear him, Tim says, “Hello, Phantom. Yes, I know who you are. No, I don’t care that you’re essentially a meta and neither does Batman, or he wouldn’t have offered you a place here.”
Kon blinks as the air temperature drops, then stabilizes as Danny takes a deep breath. “You’re Red Robin,” he says, almost as quietly.
“Got it in one.”
“Fuck, Wes was right,” Danny says with a sigh. “Also, my best friend is going to want to meet you at some point. He’s a huge fanboy. Of you, not your nighttime persona.”
Tim chuckles. “That’s a nice change. Come on. Your new domicile awaits.”
Danny nods. “You know, Bruce Wayne getting involved makes so much more sense now,” he says casually, hefting the suitcases easily as they ascend the stairs. “I figured it was just to spite Vlad. I mean, I know he and Clark were friends for some reason, but if they’re coworkers…”
Kon shoots his boyfriend a quick, apologetic glance, then ducks back to the van. Jazz and Jon have extracted themselves from the van and are pulling boxes out of the back; Jon hands him a few and Kon makes his way upstairs, following Danny’s voice.
“- and now I owe Wes fifty dollars because he was right about all of you, which also means I’m sort of looking forward to the next time Vlad tries to show up at one of the Wayne galas, because now I can give Batman Fenton tech and he won’t be able to just slip away like he did last time.”
“Is that why he got away?” Tim asks, one eyebrow cocked. “Bruce was certain he’d gotten a hand on the guy, but next thing we knew he was gone. And it’d be more like sell him the tech. I’m assuming it’s patented? If not, we can fix that and you can make some money off it.”
Danny pauses mid-step. “You know,” he says, looking back at Tim, “I have no idea. Jazz might know.”
“Jazz might know what?” comes from half a flight below.
“Did mom and dad patent anything?”
Jazz snorts. “They tried. Dad kept missing deadlines and Mom would get involved in techspeak and only half fill out the proposals. That, and since no one ever proved ghosts exist, they could never demonstrate anything actually worked.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” Danny grumps, resuming his trek up the stairs. “Grants only go so far.”
“Amen.”
The apartment is huge. Danny stops dead (hah) as Tim unlocks the door and hands Jazz two sets of keys. There’s an entry way with a half-open door off to the left; the right is the living room, which is big enough for what looks like a 75” TV and absolutely massive couch.
He’s got to get the gang over for a sleepover soon. “You have three bedrooms,” Tim says, walking further in. “We wanted four, but the only decent ones we found all needed renovation and we didn’t have time. There’s also two storage rooms in the basement- one for boxes, and we set one up as a basic workshop since Clark said you like to tinker, Danny. Speaking of which, if you need anything complex or bigger equipment, we keep a lab or two at WE for visiting scientists. You’re free to use it whenever if no one else is, just keep track of what supplies you use. I’ve already added you to the approved list.”
Danny’s fingers twitch. He drops the suitcases in a corner, along with the duffel, and concentrates very hard on not freaking out because holy shit Tim Drake-Wayne just gave him free rein of WE and Tucker is gonna freak-
“Breathe, Danny,” Jazz says, poking him. “You can fanboy later.”
“Tucker is going to have a stroke.”
“Probably.”
Danny glances back at Tim, who’s watching them with an expression that translates into something very much like “ah yes, he is indeed one of us”. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Anyway. Kitchen is this way. It’s fully stocked- Bruce has a recurring delivery set up. I’ll give you the login so you can adjust it. Don’t worry about the cost, either. It’s coming out of the League budget. There’s a fund for living expenses because so many of us don’t do well with day jobs and gear gets expensive. I’ve seen the Flashes’ grocery bills. Believe me, this is nothing.”
Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Danny feels a little better- this wasn’t Bruce paying for Danny and Jazz, this was the JL funding Phantom. Or, at least, this is how the public would see it, which kept their connection with the Waynes on the down-low.
Of course, everyone knew that Bruce Wayne funded a good chunk of the Justice League, but details.
Oh, look. Tim was still talking.
“Bedrooms are down here. The furniture’s pretty basic. We figured you’d want to decorate, so there’s a card for that, and clothes, and whatever else you two need. Guest bathroom in the entry, two of the rooms have ensuites. Washer, dryer, linen closet. Most of the appliances are relatively new, so there shouldn’t be issues, but the building has a decent repairman on retainer. Barring that, there’s a list of alternative providers on the fridge.”
Behind them, Lois and Clark listen attentively while Jon and Kon bring up the last few boxes and stack them neatly in a corner. “What about schools?” Jazz asks.
“You mean college, correct?” She nods. “There’s also a fund for members of the League and their families that want to attend college. You both qualify, so if you decide to use it I’ll be happy to walk you through the paperwork. It’s fairly simple.”
Jazz smiles widely at that and thanks Tim, who waves it off. Kon comes to stand beside him and whispers something in his ear that makes Tim’s eyes go wide, as if he’d almost forgotten something important. “Yeah, right. Thanks.” Kon nods and leans into his boyfriend’s side as Tim speaks again. “One last thing before questions. I’m sure you’ve noticed that my family and yours are fairly close. I’m dating Kon, Jon is my little brother Damian’s best friend, and Clark and Bruce have been working together for years now. Which means, not only do you have most of the Wayne family on call should you need us, but the Kents have a standing invitation at Wayne manor. Dinner, movie nights, game nights, birthdays, holidays. You’re invited, if you want to come. If not, that’s fine, but B has asked that you attend at least one family dinner in the next couple of weeks. Both to meet you, as Bruce Wayne, not Brucie or Batman, and to make sure that you’re settling in okay.”
“Brucie?” Danny asks before he can censor himself, and Tim grimaces.
“B’s gala persona. I’m sure you’ve seen the videos. Believe me, that’s not who he really is. At all.”
“I should hope not. I’ve met Batman, after all. He’s very much not that.”
Kon snorts. “He’s not Batman either, although that’s closer. Most of the time he just gives tired dad vibes.”
“He does that in the suit, too,” Tim says with a chuckle. “He just hides it better with the League.”
“No,” Clark says, “no, he doesn’t. Most of the others are just too oblivious to notice.”
“Yeah, that too.”
“It’s not all that terribly surprising,” Kon adds, grinning. “There are what, seven of you?”
“If you count Steph, yeah.” Tim shrugs. “Whether or not she counts herself as one of us really depends on whether or not she wants something. It’s less she’s our sister and more that she’s dated two of us now, so I think Bruce sees her as more of a daughter-in-law than anything, sort of like Babs, even if she and Dick aren’t dating anymore.”
Danny blinks at him. “Your family is confusing.”
“Only from the outside. It makes perfect sense to us.” Tim shrugs. “We may look a lot alike, but we’re vastly different people with very different backgrounds. About the only common factors are the tragic backstories.”
Jazz cocks her head. “I know most of you through the news articles, but who’s Babs?”
Tim grins. “Barbara Gordon. AKA Oracle.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Danny whisper-screams the words, his eyes wide. “Oracle’s REAL?”
“She is.” The grin widens. “You’ll probably get to meet her at dinner, if you come. She pops in most Sundays if she’s not doing anything with her dad. And you’ll definitely meet her if you decide to join us on patrol.”
“Tucker is gonna implode,” Danny whispers. “Holy shit.” Then he blinks. “Um.”
“Yes?”
“Is there… is there a chance I could have a friend meet Poison Ivy?”
Tim blinks as Danny fidgets nervously, then shrugs. “I mean, yeah? Probably. Pam’s chilled out a lot since she and Harley started dating. Why do you ask?”
“I have a friend. Sam. She, um, got overshadowed by the Ancient of Nature and nowshehasplantsuperpowers.” Danny blushes as he mumbles the last part. “Ivy’s been her idol for years.”
Tim stares at Danny for what seems like an eternity, then pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Sam. I’m guessing you mean Samantha Manson?”
It’s Danny’s turn to blink. “Wait. How do you know about Sam?”
“We’ve met,” Tim sighs, “although she might not remember. It was years ago, before I joined the family, and I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. My parents were not impressed by her parents. Her parents were not impressed by my parents. Sam and I spent half the night hiding in an alcove discussing vegetarianism vs veganism and why most people’s justification for the latter is absolute idiocy.”
“Who won the debate?” Jazz asks curiously.
“No one. Her parents found us before the closing arguments,” Tim replies with a shrug.
“Oh, Ancients.” Danny shakes his head and pulls out his phone, then tilts his head and glances at Tim. “Sam told us about that, but she never knew who her debate partner was. How did you know who she was?”
“I always knew everyone at events.” The words are matter-of-fact, if slightly bitter. “My mother made sure of that. Galas and charity auctions were just networking opportunities to my parents, and I was the heir to Drake Industries, so it made sense. I hated every minute of it, but it came in handy later on, so it wasn’t a total waste.”
“You still hate every minute of them,” Kon says, elbowing Tim.
“You’re not wrong.”
“I rarely am.”
Danny chuckles as he types something on his phone. Thirty seconds later, a series of pings come from it, but he tucks it in his pocket and ignores them. “Alright. I have ghost business the next couple of days, but I should be back by the weekend.
“Meanwhile,” Jazz adds, “I would appreciate help with the college forms, Tim. Gotham U. has a really good psychology program and I want to see if I can start with the fall semester.”
“That can be arranged.” Tim taps a few icons on his own phone. “Wednesday? I have off patrol that night and this week is actually fairly slow at work, so barring a major attack I should be available that evening.”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay.” Tim puts the phone away and glances at Kon. “Now, I believe you were promised dinner. Dine in or takeout? It’s on me.”
Danny and Kon share a grin. “Chinese. And yes.”
Jazz sighs as Tim shakes his head, a hint of a long-suffering but fond smile on his lips. “Right. Chinese takeout, one of everything on the menu. Just remember to keep the shrimp away from me this time, okay? I’d rather skip the ER trip, thanks.”
“Yeah, yeah. Trust me,” Kon replies, his smile dipping a little, “once was enough. That was terrifying, Rob, and we’ve fought Darkseid together.”
“That you have.” Clark places a final stack of boxes in the corner of the apartment and glances at Lois and Jon. “Speaking of dinner invitations, we’re dropping Jon off at the Manor for a sleepover with Damian, so we’ll be off. Call us if you need anything, Jazz. Danny, try not to get in too much trouble, okay? Kon, we’ll see you at home.”
Jazz nods and hugs Lois goodbye while Danny rolls his eyes. “I’ll try, Clark. Thanks for the ride. Have fun, Jon.”
Jazz watches them leave, then makes an interested noise. “Rob?”
“Hmm? Oh.” Kon shrugs. “Back when we first formed Young Justice, Tim and the Batkids were under strict orders not to share their secret identities. Tim was Robin, then, and his alias was obviously fake- I mean, who calls their kid Alvin in this day and age?- so we called him Rob for short. It stuck even though we know who he is now.”
“Makes sense, I suppose. Danny, I’m going to grab a shower while we wait for food. Do you remember which box the towels were in?”
Danny blinks. “We packed towels?”
“Danny!”
Tim chuckles. “Don’t worry, Jazz. There are new ones in both bathrooms. I had Cass pick them out, so they’re very soft and fluffy.”
Jazz nods. “Thanks, Tim.”
“Don’t mention it.”