Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Part I. Fenton

Danny was tired of white. 

White sheets. White walls. White bandages. 

There wasn’t a speck of color in his hospital room to draw his eye. Nothing of note to spark an interest. It was quiet, too, except for the faintest dripdripdrip he could hear with his enhanced hearing coming from the IV and the gentle, slow (slower than normal) beeping of the heart monitor. The lack of stimulation was maddening in how it allowed for his mind to wander. He didn’t like the places his mind went. Places of blood and ash, regret and guilt. 

He had to get away.

Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan of pain. His ribs were still bruised. Better than their previous state of being pulverized into pieces, and he may have a high pain tolerance, but that didn’t mean he liked pain. Blowing out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed and found his footing. The IV pole, wobbling, was used to steady him as he stood.

Ah, right, the IV. His gaze flicked to where it was attached to the crook of his elbow. He knew it was a bad movie trope to just rip it out, but he couldn’t very well leave with it still inserted. Mindful to keep pressure on the skin around it, he pulled out the IV with a hiss. Red flecked with green welled up from the wound, and he let the IV fall to the floor. 

There didn’t seem to be any cameras in the room, so, with a slow, wobbling gait, he made his way to the window. He transformed into Phantom, but stumbled forward as the rings washed over him and caught himself on the windowsill. It felt like his head was spinning in dizzying circles. Inside him, he could feel a hollowness in his core. He felt… empty. That was disconcerting. Being Phantom usually caused his core to stretch with glee, like a cat unfurling after a long nap in the sun. 

Danny closed his eyes for a moment against the sensation. He knew what was likely causing the emptiness–a grief not yet settled in. His grip on the windowsill tightened, knuckles turning white.

He shoved the memories of the faces of his family and friends down. Deep down where they wouldn’t come up like bile in his throat every time he exhaled.

Gritting his teeth, he tapped into that determination to get out of this damned hospital. It didn’t even matter if the nurses noticed he was missing. 

(There wasn’t anyone left to care).

A growl of frustration bubbled in his throat. The windowsill was cracking in his grip, wood splintering under the pressure. The noise gave him pause, and he glanced briefly at the damage he had done. He sighed. This sort of fixation was why he needed to get out of the hospital.

He pushed off the ground and flew through the window, not bothering to turn invisible or watch the streets of Amity Park pass by below him. Danny didn’t even know where he was going, he just had to go somewhere. The route he took was subconscious, and one he had taken many times before. Surprise didn’t even register when he looked up and found himself floating in front of Fenton Works. He landed on the front step and tested the door handle, expecting to find it locked. 

The door handle turned. He raised a brow at that.

Now it was curiosity that settled in his chest, rather than the ugly tangle of feelings he wanted nothing to do with. He pushed the door open to find his living room empty and untouched except for one thing of note–the door to the lab was open. Cautious, he floated inside, feet barely an inch above the ground, in case there was any to hear his footsteps.

Danny froze at the sound of voices coming from the lab.

“Are you sure this was Enchantress’ doing?” 

“Mm, sure as I can be.”

“And where is June Moore in all of this?”

“Eh.”  

He moved closer and glanced down the stairs, seeing nothing. They must be further in the lab. Closer to the portal , he noted. Danny continued to listen.

“Forthcoming as always.”

“Can’t tell you something I don’t know.”

He turned invisible and flew halfway down the stairs. In the lab, in front of the closed ghost portal, were two men.The first was a blond man with the look of a stereotypical detective. He was even smoking. Danny’s parents would have hated someone smoking in the lab. But, what caught his eye was the other–Batman. Wide-eyed, he watched Batman turn from the portal to face the detective. Most of his face was obscured, but it was easy to see he was scowling. 

“What can you tell me?” Batman asked, voice a low growl in his chest.

The detective shrugged, “This place reeks of death.” 

“This is where the girl made her last stand against Enchantress.” Batman paused before adding, “To protect her brother, we heard.” 

Enchantress. There was that name again. Danny’s heart beat faster. Was that the name of the ghost–the thing –that took his family and so many others from him? 

“How two kids ended up here when the rest of their peers were in that collapsed school building is beyond me.”

He bit his lip hearing that. If either of the men thought too deeply about that, would they investigate him? What excuse could he give for how he and Jazz got out of the collapse the ghost–Enchantress–caused?

“Jasmine Fenton must have been exceptional to be able to take down Enchantress.” There was an edge in Batman’s voice that suggested that he meant beyond the standard definition of exceptional. That gave Danny pause. If they thought Jazz was the ‘exceptional’ one, maybe he could get out of a Batman encounter without his secret being found and tossed to the Guys in White.

“Shame it was to protect a dead kid, though.” 

Batman made a noise of disagreement. “Daniel Fenton isn’t dead.” The detective raised an eyebrow at that and took a long drag of his cigarette. Batman continued, “He’s recovering in Amity General as we speak. Miraculous survival, they say.”

“Miraculous indeed. Fenton girl really must have been something special to keep him from Enchantress’ claws.” The detective sounded almost impressed. 

“That’s what I’m looking into, yes.” 

“What of the other one?” He asked, to which Batman tipped his head to the side briefly to question his meaning. The detective sighed. “What’ll happen to the Fenton boy? Is your ‘friend’ going to take an interest?” 

Before the hero could answer, there was a faint beep and grainy sounds of muffled talking, presumably over some sort of communicator. Danny’s hearing was good, but not good enough to hear what was being said. Batman moved away from the detective as he said, “Very well, I’ll be there as soon as I’m able.” 

The detective huffed and dropped his cigarette, grinding it under the heel of his boot. Batman gave a pointed look, to which the other man gave an annoyed shrug. “Ditching me, then?” 

Danny, realizing the two men would be leaving the lab, retreated back up the stairs and out the front door. He didn’t want to be caught–leave it to Batman to have something that could detect him even while invisible. His heart was beating far too quickly for his ghost form, anxiety heavy in his gut. Overhearing the conversation had certainly shifted the churning of his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if it was better than before he left the hospital room. 

Had he been in a better frame of mind, perhaps Danny would have given pause to the black curling in the corners of his vision as he flew back to the hospital.

The next day following Danny’s escapade, he was deemed healthy enough to be discharged. That would have been great had it not meant that the vultures better known as social services would be picking at the remains of his life. He was only half listening to the harpy talking to him now. She was prattling on about wills and laws.

“You do understand, right, Daniel?” She asked after a long pause.

He made a noncommittal noise. 

The social worker he had forgotten the name of did not seem pleased. 

“We’re discussing serious matters of your future, Daniel,” she scolded in what Danny bet she thought was a gentle, maternal tone but sounded more like thinly veiled condescension.

He spared her a side glance and shrugged, sardonically saying, “Something, something, my parent’s will.” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes, your parents’ will. Did you listen to a word I said?”

“You certainly said words in an order.”

“Daniel,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “I was saying that your parents’ will designated your maternal Aunt Alicia as your guardian, but that she was deemed unfit.”

“I didn’t want to live in Spittoon anyways,” he grumbled under his breath. Danny didn’t have anything against his aunt, but he didn’t know her well enough to be too heartbroken at the news.

“Usually that means you’d become a ward of the state.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can just say foster care, ya know.” 

“However,” the social worker with a sharp look, “Vladimir Masters has offered to take you in. From what I understand–”

“Pass,” Danny cut in.

“ From what I understand ,” she repeated, “Mister Masters was a close friend of your parents. He has resigned as mayor of Amity Park in wake of the Casper High Tragedy and will be moving back to his residence outside of Green Bay, Wisconsin.” 

“I said pass. As in ‘nope, no way, not gonna happen’.” The last thing he wanted was to be stuck with Vlad for two years.

“Daniel, your only other option is to remain in foster care until you turn 18.” 

“I’ll take my chances,” he said, shrugging. “C’mon, throw me in the system already.” 

The social worker was looking at him like he had grown another head for turning down Vlad’s offer. He supposed that it was pretty nuts from the outside to so vehemently deny life as a billionaire’s charge. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by the shrill ringing of her phone. Looking at the caller ID, she muttered, “Let me get this.” The social worker stepped out of his hospital room, and Danny zoned back out, not bothering to listen in on her conversation.

He had already resigned himself to two years of being bounced around the foster care system. The moment he turned 18, he was going to find his way back to Amity Park. Hopefully things wouldn’t go to hell too much without him around to deal with ghosts popping through the natural portals that plagued the city. Phantom belonged in Amity Park, that much Danny was certain of. Anywhere he ended up, he’d have to be careful to keep Phantom hidden. If anyone made the connection between Fenton and Phantom, there wouldn’t be anyone to go looking for him when the Guys in White caught wind of it.

The door of the hospital room slid open, and his social worker stepped back in. Her lips were pulled into a tight line as if trying but failing to school her expression into something neutral. “There is,” she paused to take a deep breath, “another option apparently.” 

Danny said nothing and frowned. She waited a few moments to see if he’d respond. He didn’t.

Continuing, the social worker said, “Another party has expressed interest in adopting you.”

That was suspicious. Wracking his brain, he wondered who it could be. No way would the Mansons do that–they hated him. The Foleys? Maybe for Tucker’s memory, but he wasn’t particularly close to his parents. He didn’t think he made that big of an impact on their lives. Valerie and her dad only lived in a two bedroom apartment, so it couldn’t be them. No one else in Amity Park had ever taken an interest in his life. He furrowed his brow and asked, “Who?”

“Bruce Wayne.” 

Danny blinked.

What?

He glanced at his social worker’s face to check for any hint of a lie, but there was nothing except that almost neutral expression. 

Then, it clicked.

The conversation he had overheard–the detective had asked Batman about his ‘friend’. It made sense that Batman would be associates with Bruce Wayne, when he thought about it. Afterall, the superhero had to get funding for all his tech and toys somewhere. If Batman was looking into this Enchantress ghost that Jazz defeated, maybe he pitied Danny enough to ask Bruce Wayne to take him on as another charity case. It added up, but he felt like he was missing something. 

Still… he’d be lying if Danny said he wasn’t fond of Batman. The hero wasn’t his idol or anything dramatic like that–of course not! But, when he got his powers, he had sort of asked himself ‘what would Batman do?’ as a guiding principle. And, if Batman trusted Bruce Wayne, maybe Danny could trust the man enough to agree to the adoption. It’d keep him out of Vlad’s hands and out of the foster system. 

Danny looked down at where his hands were curled in his lap. He relaxed his hands and stretched out his fingers. There were crescent moon shapes on his palms from clenching them too hard over the past few days. The emptiness that had taken up residence in his core stretched in anticipation. 

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Tell Wayne I said sure.” 

The next two weeks passed in a blur of paperwork and phone calls. He was placed with a temporary family in Amity Park that he vaguely recognized from one time he saved their 6-year-old daughter from a building that collapsed during a fight with Skulker. They were nice enough and allowed Danny to spend his time there mostly in the small room they had set up for him. He learned, eventually, that his social worker’s name was Sarah (although he still was unsure of last name). 

He passed the days lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and letting his mind drift, or locking the door and going for a fly around town as Phantom. To his surprise, there really weren’t any ghost attacks besides a few blobs bothering customers at the mall. Danny wondered if word about what had happened to Casper High and his family had spread around the Ghost Zone. A sort of respect had been forged between him and most of his ghostly enemies over time, and it wouldn’t be completely out of left field for them to direct their attention somewhere besides Amity Park out of that sense of respect. It certainly made him feel better about leaving for Gotham if that was the case. 

The adoption process was being sped up from its usual timeline from what Danny understood. A combination of Bruce Wayne’s money and past record of successful adoptions, he figured. It only took a bit over two weeks for his departure to Gotham to roll around. His social worker Sarah had insisted on coming with him to see him off, so the flight there was full of uncomfortable small talk when Danny really just wanted to stare out of the window and wish he could fly alongside the plane.

Although he was trying to keep his mind off of it, he couldn’t help but think about the date. August 15th–the second anniversary of his portal accident. 

It was strange to consider how his life would be changing on this day a second time with his official arrival at the Wayne household. It wasn’t as dramatic as dying and having your DNA recoded with ectoplasm, but it was still significant enough that he was struggling to think of much else. Stepping into that portal was simultaneously the best and worst choice he had ever made. Danny wouldn’t trade his life as Phantom for anything. Or, at least, that’s what he thought before the events of the previous weeks.

Now, he wasn’t too sure that he hadn’t caused this chain of events with the portal accident. Were the ghosts his fault? Was this ‘Enchantress’ his fault? Was Casper High’s collapse and all of those deaths his fault? The possibility of that wouldn’t leave him. So many people died, and was it all because Danny Fenton, age 14, tripped over a wire? His family and friends died–was that because he had taken up the mantle of Phantom? Maybe if he didn’t let Jazz get involved in ghost hunting in the first place, she wouldn’t have taken the Fenton Peeler and jumped into that last fight.

Danny tapped his fingers on the armrest restlessly. Sarah glanced at him questionly, noticing the agitation, but said nothing. She had come to understand that Danny didn’t appreciate her incessant questions if he was okay. The rest of the flight passed silently, Sarah’s idle chatter tapering off as Danny switched to ignoring her or only grunting a response. 

When they landed and wandered the airport towards the pickup zone, it was a rather nice black car that came to pick them up. For all that Danny knew about car engines from years of watching his parents work on the GAV, he knew nothing about car brands besides that the car behind the man holding a sign with his name on it was very expensive. The man with the sign was an older gentleman wearing a three piece suit, although it seemed classier than when Vlad would wear something similar. 

Sarah walked towards the man, gesturing Danny onward with her, and called out to him. He had a pleasant smile and demeanor, politely inclining his head in greeting and folding the sign under one of his arms.

“It’s good to see you both got in safe,” he said, voice smooth and warm, “I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the butler at Wayne Manor. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Fenton.” Danny shrugged in response and dragged his luggage over to the back of the car, moving to open the trunk and throw it in the back himself. Alfred stepped up next to him and took the luggage from him with an easy smile. “Let me get that for you.”

Sarah made eye contact with Danny and gestured towards Alfred, saying under her breath, “Thank him and introduce yourself, Daniel.”

“Fine,” he muttered back to her, then cleared his throat and spoke louder, “Uh, thanks for picking us up. I’m Danny Fenton, but you already know that, I guess. It is Fenton, though. Not Wayne.”

Alfred took the abrasiveness in stride, not seeming too bothered, as he replied, “Yes, Master Danny, I assisted Master Wayne with the adoption process, so I am aware you have kept your original last name. You do not have to worry about being referred to wrong by me or any of the family.” 

“Oh, um, cool. Thanks, I guess,” Danny said. 

The butler opened the car door for him, and he slid into the seat. It was far more comfortable than any car had a right to be, he noted. Sarah and Alfred chatted for a few minutes, probably going over some sort of official adoption business nonsense, before his social worker redirected her attention to him. “I’ll be leaving you in Mister Pennyworth’s capable hands, but we’ll be in touch.” 

He just gave her a half-hearted thumbs up and buckled up. Sarah hesitated a few moments before shaking her head, and heading off in another direction. Getting into the car, Alfred lightly commented that the drive to Wayne Manor would be about an hour. At that, Danny popped earbuds in and turned on his favorite Dumpty Humpty album to listen to. A text from Sarah popped up on his phone.

Social Worker Lady: And remember, don’t be rude! Talk to him!

He typed back a quick ‘no’ and turned his phone on do not disturb so he wouldn’t be bothered by her response. 

The ride to Wayne Manor passed by in silence after Alfred, glancing through the rearview mirror, noticed that Danny had closed himself off to conversation. The only sound between them was the faint hum of the engine (probably some sort of hybrid engine judging by the sound, he noted) and the music playing through his headphones. The Wayne Manor was in a nice, sprawling neighborhood full of old houses that looked more like small castles. It put a scowl on his face, as it brought up imagery of Vlad's garish green and yellow mansion in his mind. The car pulled up to park near the front entrance–a grand wooden double doorway. The place reeked of old money. After the car rolled to a stop, Danny unbuckled and wordlessly hopped out of the car. He pulled out his earbuds and shoved them back in his pocket. 

“Are you ready to meet Master Wayne and some of his sons?” Alfred asked gently. 

Danny gave another half-hearted shrug. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

As they approached the doorway, Alfred pulled it open for him and gestured him into the entrance hall. If he hadn’t been used to popping into Vlad’s various mansions so often, he might have been impressed by the house as he stepped in. It was meticulously well kept and tastefully decorated. He analyzed the room, carefully cataloging every detail of the entrances, exits, and potential threats before he let his gaze land on the people gathered around a loveseat. 

There were three individuals–a man around his parent’s age and two teenagers. The man was obviously Bruce Wayne, but he couldn’t put names to the faces of the teenagers besides a guess that they were Wayne’s other adopted wards. The younger of the two looked like he’d swallowed a lemon as he eyed Danny up and down. Danny was curious to note that he looked quite similar to Bruce besides skin tone. The older one was much more relaxed, almost excited judging from how he was grinning and jittering his leg as he sat. Bruce and the older of the two teenagers stood up to greet him and Alfred.

“Daniel, I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Bruce Wayne said with a dazzling smile, reaching out his hand. It was the kind of smile that would easily win over anyone else, but Danny couldn’t help but wonder if it was just a mask. He certainly didn’t think Bruce was a bad guy judging by his working relationship with Batman, but he couldn’t be all sunshine and rainbows.

Danny cautiously took Bruce’s hand to shake. “It’s Danny. No one calls me Daniel.” Except Vlad, he added to himself.

Bruce nodded, taking that information in and then gestured towards the two teenage boys. “These are two of my sons–the older one is Duke and the younger is Damian. There’s also Tim, Cassandra, and Dick, but they no longer live at the manor.” 

The older teenager, Duke, waved from where he stood next to Bruce, and Damian merely inclined his head as a greeting. Duke said, “We also have a handful of family friends that are practically family you’ll see around the manor! Stephanie, Jason, and Barbara.” 

Danny nodded, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. He glanced back at Alfred behind him who had grabbed his luggage from the car. “Um, can you show me to my room?” He asked.

“We were just about to have dinner together,” Bruce interjected, “we try to have meals together as often as possible, since all of our lives are busy otherwise. You will not be required to attend, but there will be a spot saved for you.” 

Duke flashed Danny a hopeful smile, but he glanced back to where Damian still sat, scowling, on the couch. He got the feeling that he wasn’t actually welcomed by the entire Wayne family. It set him on edge. 

“Uh, usually I just eat in my room,” he said, “my family stopped eating together before my freshman year.” 

A flash of disappointment crossed Bruce’s face, but the man quickly hid it. “That’s quite alright. Alfred can bring you something to eat after showing you to your new room.” 

Danny mumbled a thanks under his breath and followed after Alfred up the stairs. He committed the hallways of the manor to memory as the butler explained what room each door led to. His room would be in between Duke’s and Damian’s rooms and have a bathroom of its own attached to the room. That aspect he was pretty excited about, since at Fenton Works he had to share a bathroom with Jazz. 

“Feel free to decorate your room however you please. If you want to paint the walls or get new furniture, you need only ask,” Alfred said. “I’ll leave you to unpack and be back with a meal for you in an hour or two.”

He watched Alfred’s retreating form before entering his new room. Cautiously, he circled the bedroom and examined it. It was large–easily twice the size of his old bedroom–but bland. That was to be expected, he supposed. Looking at his luggage, he sighed. He really didn’t want to unpack, so he shoved the suitcase into the closet to deal with later. The bed looked like it might be a king size and was covered in plush pillows and a nice quilt. Flopping down on it, he sighed and relaxed into the blankets. The blank ceiling was white. 

Danny frowned.

He’d have to change that.

Chapter Text

Danny spent the next few days in his room. Some might say he was hiding, but he simply wanted to be alone. He emerged only in the early morning and late night to creep down to the kitchen and pick up the food Alfred would leave out for him. After the first day that he caught Danny rummaging through the fridge to no avail, they developed an unspoken agreement. The silent understanding was appreciated, and it kept him from running into any of the other members of the household. He would pass his time playing around on his phone, staring at the white ceiling, or idly drawing constellations in a notebook. Part of him knew he couldn’t live like a ghost haunting the manor forever, but for now he went about his days like that. 

It wasn’t until that Friday that his little routine was interrupted by a knock at his bedroom door. He startled at the noise, having been too absorbed in thought to hear the approaching footsteps, and glanced over towards the doorway. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, whoever it was would leave him alone. 

No such luck, though, as he heard Duke call out tentatively, “Um, Danny? I brought you something.” 

Danny swung his legs over the side of the bed and approached the door, footsteps all but silent. His hand hovered over the doorknob for a few seconds before he gained the resolve to open it. Swinging the door open revealed Duke on the other side, fidgeting with something in his hands. Danny was intensely aware he hadn’t spoken since his arrival at the manor several days ago and cleared his throat before asking, “What is it?” His voice was creaky and dry. 

“I saw the NASA hoodie you wore the day you came in and thought maybe you liked space, and that your room must be awfully dull and unwelcoming, and that maybe you’d like something to make it more homey, and so I, um, got you this.” Duke said in a rush, uncertain and rambling as if he thought Danny would cut him off before he had the chance to get everything out. He held out his hand, and Danny saw that it was a package of glow in the dark stars. The slight smile that upturned his lips was involuntary, but it made Duke visibly relax. 

“Thanks,” Danny said in a quiet voice, taking the package of stars from Duke. He was already wondering what constellations he should arrange them in. Maybe Alfred would even let him paint the ceiling black for a better night sky effect.

Silence stretched between them, as Danny’s thoughts drifted towards considerations of stars and constellations. Eventually, shifting from foot to foot, Duke spoke up again. “So, I take it I was right, and that you like space?”

Danny nodded. “I’m really into astronomy. I wanted to be an astronaut when I was younger.” 

“That’s cool,” Duke smiled at him, “You know, Bruce has a telescope no one’s used in ages. I bet he wouldn’t mind if you gave it some love.” 

That made him perk up. A telescope had been one of Danny’s possessions that were left at Fenton Works, much to his chagrin.  The expression that lit up his face was one of eager excitement. “That’d be awesome!” 

“I’ll show you where it is later.” Duke said, then glanced at his phone. He sighed and continued, “I have to get going to dinner before Alfred gives me his disappointed look for making everyone wait. But, I’ll find you after?” 

Danny surprised both of them with his response. “I’ll come down to dinner with you.” The words had slipped out before he registered them, but he found that he didn’t regret saying it. He supposed that he couldn’t hide from the Wayne family forever if he was going to live here until he turned 18. 

“O-oh!” Duke intoned, “that’s great!” 

Danny wouldn’t call it great, but he gestured for Duke to lead the way to the dining room, and the two headed off.

Attending dinner hadn’t been a one off thing to thank Duke, apparently. As it turned out, the dinners with the Wayne family were actually enjoyable. Bruce, Duke, and Damian had a rapport with each other that was easy to slide into. The three Waynes were clever, with a quick wit that made conversation more engaging than Danny expected of a billionaire playboy and his wards. Enjoying dinner with them made his gut twist with an odd sensation of guilt scolding him for jumping into replacing everyone so quickly. That was quickly shoved down with the rest of the feelings he wanted to ignore.

Sunday night, Bruce casually slid a bomb into their conversation. “Danny, have you considered what school you’d like to attend in Gotham?”

“I dunno, probably the closest public school. Duke and Damian’s fancy private school wouldn’t want me.” Danny responded, stabbing at a carrot with a bit too much force. 

“Hmm,” Bruce considered that with a raised eyebrow, folding his hands on the table. “I talked to one of your old teachers at Casper High–a Mister Lancer–and he seemed to think your grades were for a lack of trying, not a lack of intelligence.” 

Danny blinked, surprised, at that. He hadn’t been aware that Lancer had survived the collapse at Casper High, nor that Lancer held that opinion. The teacher had softened towards Danny over the years, more often than not attempting to reach out to him and dig down to the root of his flakiness and ‘troubled’ behavior. It would have been endearing, had he not been hiding a huge secret double life he needed to keep Lancer from discovering. 

Duke spoke up in a light voice, “There’s no harm in at least taking the entrance exam.” 

Except for the embarrassment of getting rejected , he sardonically thought to himself, picking at the food on his plate. His appetite had left him with the talk of school. “It’s unlikely anything would come of it.” He said after stewing in his negative thoughts for a few moments. 

“Tt, you value yourself too little, Fenton,” Damian said with a derisive sniff. 

Danny glanced over. “You try having always been the idiot in a family of geniuses.”

The look that Damian was giving him was hard to parse. It wasn’t pity, or even scrutiny. It was a look he had sometimes seen in Vlad’s eyes when the older halfa thought that Danny had made a misstep. Never had he fully understood that particular look.  That put a lump in his throat. He looked away from Damian and spoke up in hopes of making the younger boy stop giving him that very Vlad-like expression. “I guess I can do the entrance exam anyways.”

Bruce gave a light smile, “I think that would be great, Danny.”

“If only just to prove that I’m not cut out for this fancy rich kid school, alright?” Danny said.

“I regret to inform you Danny,” Duke said gravely, “but you are now a fancy rich kid.” 

“Ugh,” Danny grumbled, to which Duke laughed.

At least it wasn’t Vlad’s money, though. Sam would always remind him there was no ethical way to make a billion dollars, but Wayne couldn’t be as cartoonishly evil as Vlad. He seemed a nice enough guy, and he funded Batman . That had to count for something. 

The next night found Danny finally using the telescope Duke had shown him to. It was a model of Celestron NexStar–a bit old, but still very nice and more than acceptable for basic stargazing. The problem was that one of the tripod legs was a bit janky, and he needed to find a wrench to adjust it to be less annoying to work with. Of course, the easy thing would be to text Alfred and simply ask where he could find a wrench in this ridiculous mansion, but Danny really didn’t want to bother him for something he could likely find on his own.

How hard could it be to find a single wrench?

It was that line of thinking that had Danny an hour into his "easy" search for a wrench with no idea as to where to find one. At Fenton Works, they had kept the tools in the garage, like sensible people would. That didn't seem to be the case in Wayne Manor. 

Grumbling and defeated, Danny stalked back through the hallways to return to the telescope with his tail between his legs. He'd just have to deal with the wobbly tripod and suck up his wounded pride of having failed his mission enough to ask Alfred next time he saw the Waynes' butler. 

He wasn't paying particular attention to his surroundings, and neither was Damian it seemed, as the two collided in the hallway. Both boys were sent tumbling to the ground with rather undignified noises of surprise. Meeting Damian's eyes, the younger boy seemed somewhere between annoyed, angry, and very sheepish to have been caught so unaware.

They stared at each other, both silent and embarrassed on the ground.

Eventually, Danny was the one to break the awkward silence. "Um, know where I can find a wrench?" 

"You aren't even going to bother apologizing?" Damian asked, a sharp edge to his voice.

He half shrugged and then stood, "Not really. I mean, you weren't paying attention either. Besides, I need a wrench."

"You need a wrench." Damian echoed, picking himself up off the ground as well.

"Is that really such a weird request? What, I'm not gonna beat someone to death with it. I just need it for, uh, wrench things."

"Wrench things," Damian repeated again, almost sneering. "What are those 'wrench things' you need to do?"

Danny threw his hands in the air. "Oh my god, what is this, 20 questions for a wrench?" 

"You can't deride me for being curious." Damian said. 

Skeptical, more like it , Danny thought, but caved, "I need to fix the tripod on the telescope." 

Damian raised an eyebrow, "I was not aware that father had a telescope in the manor, nor that you had an interest in such things." Danny could sense there was an unspoken or in anything that dug under his skin.

"I like astronomy, sue me." Danny said, dryly. "Duke showed the telescope to me. It's like maybe 7 or so years old from my guess on what model it is, so it needs a bit of love. Thus, wrench."

"Right, the wrench." 

He crossed his arms over his chest. "If you're not going to be helpful, then shoo." 

Damian looked offended at being told to shoo . The kid seemed to bite back a retort, before taking a steadying breath and instead saying, "I'll show you where the toolboxes are, Fenton, but I'd like to see this telescope."

"A-alright, yeah, whatever." Danny responded, taken off-guard by Damian's interest. "What, you want me to teach you how to use it or something?"

The boy examined him. "Yes, if you have the ability to teach such a thing." 

"If I have the ability –" Danny bristled but stilled the sudden rush of anger and stomped it down. It wasn't like him to be so antagonistic to someone extending an olive branch in the form of a shared interest. Usually, when it came to space, Danny was nothing if not an eager teacher. "Yeah, I can do that. I know tons about telescopes and astronomy." 

Damian nodded, said "Very well," and then curtly turned and walked in a direction, gesturing Danny to follow. 

"Soooo..." Danny began as he followed, tone a bit stilted and awkward, "Any particular reason you're making me trade the knowledge of where the wrenches are for being taught how to use the telescope?"

"Tt, as if I need a reason," Damian muttered in a way that seemed to be a knee-jerk response rather than meant to actually be rude. He paused, brow furrowed, and glanced back at Danny over his shoulder. "The night skies were very beautiful where I was born. I was not allowed to be interested in banal things such as stargazing, but I couldn't help but appreciate the sky from time to time. Gotham's skies are much less clear, but I still hold that childish interest, I suppose."

That piqued Danny's interest. "Oh? Where did you grow up? I've only had the chance to stargaze outside of a city a few times." 

Damian considered if he'd respond, before offering up, "Nanda Parbat, a city in the Himalayas." 

"Huh," Danny intoned. "That's a lot further than I was expecting." 

"Yes, indeed," Damian replied lightly but without further detail. 

A bit of wistfulness gripped Danny, so he felt bidden to say, "Amity Park wasn't quite so large as Gotham is, so it has better viewing conditions than what I think we'll get from Bruce's telescope."

"Maybe you'll have to show me sometime," Damian said in a tone of voice that didn't actually indicate much interest in visiting Amity Park. Danny let that slide, of course no one would want to visit the ghost capital of the world. 

"Anyways, learning how to use the telescope is pretty simple.The hard part is learning how to tell what you're looking at, but Bruce's telescope is pretty nice. It does a lot of the legwork for you." Danny offered up. Part of him liked using the simpler telescopes without the fancy computers, because the act of meticulously locating stars was soothing and enjoyable to him. 

"Hm, you said it was old, though?" Damian asked.

Danny shrugged. "I guess, but it does what it does and only needs a little bit of adjustment on the tripod to function fine." 

"You could always ask father about getting a new one, you know. He wouldn't mind, if you're so interested in astronomy." 

"Uh, I don't really see the point. The telescope works, it's just not a recent model." Danny said, his nose crinkling. The telescope was certainly nicer than his in Amity Park. Damian only made that derisive noise he sometimes made, to which Danny rolled his eyes and spoke up again. "Not everything needs to be brand new and shiny." 

"If you say so," Damian said with a wave of his hand.

Danny merely hummed in response, and the two fell into a more or less comfortable silence. Soon enough, they had trekked through Wayne Manor to the specific storage closet that Alfred and Bruce had deemed where the toolboxes would be held. Wrench in hand, they retreated back to the top floor where the telescope was out on a balcony. 

Working with his hands felt good, Danny noticed. Something about fixing the tripod and checking over the rest of the telescope to ensure it was in working order was satisfying. Having something tangible to be doing with his hands kept his mind from wandering, instead remaining focused on the current task. Now that he had a wrench to fix the piece that was causing the tripod to be uneven, fixing it was easy.

Danny found that he and Damian could settle into a surprising rhythm. The younger boy listened with a rapt attention that Danny’s space ramblings had rarely, if ever, garnered. It was clear that Damian didn’t know much about astronomy besides the very basics one would be taught in a general science course, but he was a dedicated learner, occasionally voicing questions to ask Danny to expand on his instructions on how to use the telescopes and the sorts of celestial bodies they could observe. 

Gotham City didn’t have the most spectacular night sky to look at–no, the city was far too large and full of light pollution for that–but to settle into one of his oldest, most dearly held hobbies settled Danny’s mind from the stresses and turmoil of the past few weeks. Damian asked about a few constellations he had heard the names of in passing, but most of them Danny had to tell the boy weren’t visible from Gotham either because of the light pollution or seasonal timing.

Eventually, the teaching died down and the two sat mostly in silence on the balcony. Danny had never been the most social person outside of hanging out with Sam and Tucker, so he was shocked to realize that he enjoyed his foster brother’s company. Damian definitely had some pent up issues along with social difficulties that Danny couldn’t quite put his finger on where they might be coming from. Even with that, he could tell that the two of them would mostly get along during Danny’s stay with the Wayne family. 

When it came time to pack up the telescope and turn in for the night, Damian told Danny to rest well so that he might ‘perform optimally’ on his entrance exam the next day. However, he noticed that when he wished Damian a good night, the boy had to suppress a subtle smirk. That was a look Danny definitely recognized from Sam’s face when she’d tell her parents they were going to do homework only for the trio to sneak out of her window for a late night patrol. Well, if Damian was going to sneak out of Wayne manor for a late night jaunt, Danny would be the last person to stop him.

Chapter Text

Danny’s entrance exam came and went without much pomp or circumstance. At least, until the results came in. Much to his surprise, the results of the entrance exam actually placed him a year ahead of his age in the senior class with Duke. Bruce, despite only having known Danny for a short while, had smiled at him with no small amount of pride and asked Alfred to make a special dessert for that night’s dinner. Danny was uncomfortable with all the fuss until the mention of cake had been made. 

He’d allow the fuss to be made if it meant he got a cake out of it. And a damn good cake it had been–dark chocolate with black frosting and white stars piped on top. It amused him that knowledge in his interest in space had spread throughout the house so quickly, but he wasn’t complaining about it. Having people to engage with his hobby was nice, actually. Before, only his dad had ever humored Danny’s interest in space and actually encouraged it. That line of thinking quickly put a pit in his stomach, however, so Danny shoved the memories of rambling to his dad about constellations aside. 

The stargazing with Damian continued most nights for the next week or so. The following Friday, however, the boy pulled Danny aside early in the afternoon to announce that they’d be unable to continue their lessons that night. “Dick is having a family movie night at his apartment in Bludhaven,” Damian announced. 

“Oh,” Danny said, “Uh, okay. Have fun.” He tried his best to not sound disappointed–he had actually come to anticipate their astronomy sessions with a bit of excitement. It was apparent that they’d have to do them much less frequently when the two boys returned to school. 

Damian scoffed and shook his head. “You do realize you’re an adopted Wayne, right? That means you are invited to this event.” 

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Danny said, trying to coolly play off the small twinge of eagerness he felt at Damian saying he was welcome to come. 

“Do you–” Damian paused and looked at him oddly, “Do you not check the group chat?” 

Ah, right. The Wayne kid group chat that strangely held a few family friends as well, but Danny wasn’t gonna question Barbara, Jason, and Stephanie’s inclusion too much. He had muted the chat pretty soon after joining when it became apparent that they talked a lot in the chat. Given that he had only met Duke and Damian out of the eight others, he felt a bit too awkward to say anything. 

“Nope,” he said, popping the P. 

Damian gave an exasperated sigh, “Well, Fenton, will you be coming tonight? The others are eager to meet you.”

Danny hesitated. It’s not that he didn’t want to meet the rest of the Waynes and their friends, but it was a bit of an overwhelming amount of people. The only time Danny had ever had attention from that many people as Fenton before was negative attention. His only human friends had been Sam, Tucker, and sometimes Valerie. Being in an apartment with eight people, most with their attention on him as the new one of the bunch… yeah, no. That was not appealing in any way to him. 

The younger boy picked up on his hesitance, and narrowed his eyes. “Tt, backing down?”

Was the brat going to challenge him on this? Danny was fully aware of his own faults that he could absolutely be provoked by a 14-year-old. He chose his words carefully, “I just am not a people person. Not my idea of fun.”

“Well,” Damian began in a way that Danny knew the rest of the sentence was going to be irritating, “I suppose I’ll let the others know that you can’t handle such a large group outing, and that they’ll have to meet you individually.”

The rational part of Danny was reprimanding himself, saying that he shouldn’t let himself be provoked into going to a social event out of pure spite by a 14-year-old. The petty part of Danny, however, was much louder. “Fine,” he snapped, “I’ll go to the dumb movie night.”

Damian turned away to hide the ghost of a pleased smile that upturned his lips. With a dismissive wave, he headed off towards his room in the manor, calling back, “Meet in the garage at 5, Fenton.”

He only shook his head, muttering under his breath about Damian being a rat.

Stepping out of the elevator and into the hallway, Danny could already hear the ruckus of the movie night and was filled with a vague sense of dread. He tossed Duke and Damian glances, and Duke sent back an apologetic smile. Damian merely tutted, squared his shoulders, and made his way down the hallway towards the source of noise. The oldest of the Wayne children, Dick Greyson, lived on the 15th floor of a very nice apartment building. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from a ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne, but Danny’s new normal had not yet fully sunk in.

Getting closer to the apartment, the noise grew, and he was able to pick out words with his sensitive hearing. 

“Jay, I thought the ‘no guns around Danny’ rule didn’t need to be explicitly stated.” One voice shouted accusingly. 

That shot Danny’s eyebrows up to his hairline. The argument continued, oblivious to the fact that their new adopted brother was a halfa that could hear them halfway down the hall. 

“Oh let off, Grayson, they’re concealed.” 

“Concealed? You mean carelessly shoved into the back of your pants?” 

“Kid’s not gonna notice.” 

“ I noticed.” 

“Is your name Danny?” 

Damian sniffed and shook his head. “What could they possibly be arguing about?” 

Danny bit his tongue to not make a blithe comment that it was about guns, of all things. The gun part didn’t bother him. He was a Fenton, after all, and had grown up around weaponry. He’d learned to shoot before he was even in middle school. Sure, that had been ectoweaponry and not traditional guns, but the idea was similar enough. 

“No clue,” Duke spoke up and then glanced at Danny, “But we’re really sorry that our brothers are about to have the world’s worst first impression.”

He chuckled a bit at that. “Trust me, I’ve met people that have made worse first impressions.” Hell, even Clockwork had tried to kill him upon their first meeting.

“What kind of friends do you even have?” Duke asked.

Danny gave Duke a ‘do you really want to know’ look to which the other teen nodded. He sardonically said, “Well, they’re either dead or dead .” Duke’s expression became alarmed briefly and then apologetic and sheepish, his eyes not quite meeting Danny’s face anymore. He struggled with a response, so Danny took mercy on him. “Seriously, befriending ghosts is so stressful. I swear they’ve cut my lifespan in half just due to stress.” 

Damian made his characteristic derisive noise and stopped in front of one of the apartment doors. He knocked, sharp and clear, three times then opened the door without waiting. Duke and Danny followed the young teen into the apartment.

The scene in the apartment was chaotic, to say the least. A tall man in a leather jacket with a streak of white in his otherwise dark hair was standing on a couch, pointing at another tall, dark-haired man. Sat beside the couch in a wheelchair was a red-haired woman who looked exasperated. There was a blonde woman sitting cross legged in an armchair and standing behind the chair was a third dark-haired man, this one holding a bowl of popcorn and shaking his head. Danny almost missed the smaller woman crouched on the ground in front of the coffee table, shoveling chips into her mouth and watching the two arguing men with rapt attention.

What was it with this family and black hair? 

When Danny and the other two boys entered, the argument froze and everyone in the room turned to look at them walking through the door. There were a few beats of silence, before the blonde woman jumped up and ran over to them. 

“Ah! You’re so adorable!” She shouted, approaching Danny and going to dote over him. He scowled at being called adorable . Sure, he hadn’t grown since the portal accident but his height didn’t make him cute. 

Danny swatted away her attempt to ruffle his hair. “I’m pretty sure nameless women trying to touch my hair counts as stranger danger.”

“I’m Stephanie, the cool one of this lot. Don’t let Jay fool you, he’s actually a nerd underneath that leather jacket and combat boots.” She responded with a sunny smile.

“Hey!” The man with the white streak in his hair protested. Stephanie merely blew him a kiss with a cackle and a wink. 

“The leather jacket nerd is Jason,” Stephanie said, pointing at him. “Red-haired one is Barbara, or Babs if you feel like it. The rest are your oh-so-lovely siblings. Your sister is Cass. She prefers sign language, so we’ll have to teach you if you don’t know it.”

Before Stephanie could introduce him, the dark-haired man that had been arguing with Jason began to walk over to Danny and spoke up. “I’m Richard, but you can call me Dick. I’m the oldest of Bruce’s gaggle.” He stuck out his hand to shake, which Danny tentatively took. After releasing Dick’s hand, the man immediately went to ruffle Danny’s hair, which he nimbly dodged out of the way of.

“What’s with you all and touching my hair!” He complained, eyeing the last dark-haired man he hadn’t been introduced to yet suspiciously. If this one also tried to touch his hair, he was out of movie night.

“Steph and Dick are just like that. It’s unfortunately terminal,” the unnamed man said, voice serious but a smile quirking up his lips. “I’m Tim.” 

With all of the Wayne family and their friends introduced, Danny looked over the room again. The apartment was obviously very nice but looked lived in and cozy. He noticed that the windows had additional security bars that Dick must have added himself, and filed that information away. He also noticed that the front door had extra locks installed. 

While looking over the room, he found his gaze drawn to Jason. He furrowed his brow, trying to put his finger on why the man stood out to him. There was an… odd feeling surrounding him. It wasn’t quite his ghost sense, but there was a similar feeling that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He could feel something around the man. If he squinted, he could almost see a subtle neon green ring around Jason’s pupils. Was that–

Duke elbowed him.

That brought Danny back to reality enough to realize he had been staring intently at Jason for the better part of a minute or two. His cheeks heated in embarrassment.

“Seems like you got an admirer, Jay,” Stephanie chuckled in a good natured way. 

“I just thought he seemed familiar,” Danny mumbled. Jason narrowed his eyes for a moment, examining Danny. They met eyes and Danny felt almost like a spark jolt through his body. Something was off with Jason. He just hoped that whatever Jason had going on didn’t mean he could sense how off Danny himself was. He forced a smile. “It’s nothing, though.” 

The others shrugged and moved on from the topic. Dick gave Danny a brief tour of his apartment and told him to feel at home. Everyone settled into various spots around the television to get ready for the movie night, leaving Danny feeling a bit awkward at inserting himself into the situation. It was obvious that they all had their pre-established spots and roles and Danny was just an intruder. 

It left him on edge as he settled down next to Duke on one of the couches.

The feeling was pushed to the side as arguments over which movie to watch started. Danny observed, amused at seeing his adopted siblings and their friends interact in an obviously familiar way. Even with the arguing and targeted jabs, he could see there was a lot of love in the group. They had the sort of dynamic that felt good to even be an observer to. He was thankful that when it came time to order pizza, there were no arguments there. They had their pizza order down to a science, although Dick had to correct himself on the phone and add in some extras to account for Danny being an extra mouth to feed. 

The group settled on watching Into the Spiderverse, which Danny had never seen but seemed to be a favorite amongst the Waynes and their friends. What he didn’t realize immediately, though, was that by picking a movie familiar to them all, they had opened up the chance for them to assault Danny with questions about himself and his life with the movie acting as background noise.

“Soooo, Danny-boy,” Stephanie began, “What’s Amity Park like. Are there really ghosts?”

He laughed a bit at that. “Asking if there are ghosts in Amity is like asking if Venice has water.” 

“Really that bad?” Barbara inquired.

“I mean, mostly? My parents are ectobiologists, so I guess I had more exposure to it all.” There was a twinge deep in his gut as he remembered and corrected himself. “Ah, were. They were ectobiologists.” He did his best to ignore the sympathetic looks his siblings were shooting his way.

“Ectobiologists?” Cass asked, surprising Danny. It was the first time she had voiced something rather than sign it to her siblings and friends. Her voice was soft and gentle, more like a whisper than anything. 

“Ya know, ghost scientists. They studied the applications of ectoplasm and the biology of ghosts.” Danny said. “Although mostly they really liked to hunt ghosts. They were very gung-ho about the hunting aspects of their job.”

“Did you hunt ghosts?” Tim asked. 

Danny frowned, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the couch. There wasn’t a great answer to that, even outside of trying to keep Phantom a secret. His status as a ghost hunter was… complicated. So, he voiced that. “It’s not as straightforward as that. I didn’t agree with my parents on a lot of things they accepted as fact.” 

Jason looked at him with a strange sort of understanding, but asked, “What do you mean?” 

“Ghosts aren’t as easily boiled down to a core malevolence as they think. They’re just as complicated as humans, if not more so. Sure, some did come out of the Ghost Zone to cause problems, but most ghosts just want to live out their existences like anyone else.”

“Huh,” Stephanie intoned. “That’s interesting. We’ll have to pick your brain some more about ghosts later. We wanna learn about you , afterall, not just ghosts.” 

Danny half shrugged. “There’s not much to know about me. Just a loser that likes space.” 

“Tt, you say that.” Damian muttered.

“Bruce told us that you were skipped ahead a year with your entrance exam,” Dick pointed out, “That’s pretty cool.” 

Danny made a wiggly hand gesture to indicate that he didn’t really agree with that assessment. 

The conversation shifted from focusing on Danny into the siblings and friends lightly asking how Stephanie and Tim were doing in college, then diving into stories from each other’s college experiences. Duke and Damian didn’t look to feel too left out by the discussion, instead offering up some of their school experiences even if they weren’t as notable. Danny didn’t have much to add to the conversation, given that his school life had devolved into being shoved into lockers in between skipping class and late assignments. Any of his fun school stories were distinctly ghost related and couldn’t be shared. 

He stood up to go grab something to drink from the kitchen, only to hiccup with a gasp, a puff of cold air curling out of his mouth. Shit, he thought, ghosts here? Danny glanced back at where the others were engrossed in their conversation and figured they wouldn’t notice right away if he snuck out to deal with his little ghost problem. Quietly, he shut the fridge door and tip-toed to the entrance of the apartment. No one noticed when he slipped out the front door. 

With a quick glance around the hallway, he transformed into Phantom and invisibly phased through the walls of the apartment building to get outside. Following the tug of his ghost sense, he flew over the dark streets of Bludhaven. The city had similar vibes to Gotham, albeit on a smaller scale, and it made him want to try out a flight over Gotham’s streets. 

Eventually, his ghost sense led him to a dimly lit street a few blocks away from Dick’s apartment. Underneath the light of a flickering street lamp was Johnny, taking a drag from a cigarette. Danny landed in front of the biker ghost, arms over his chest, and in a commanding voice, asked, “What are you doing so far from Amity?”

Johnny didn’t startled but looked surprised at Danny’s appearance. He flicked the ashes off his cigarette. “Kitty and I broke up.”

“Again?” The words slipped out before Danny’s brain could catch up with his mouth, and that was very much the wrong thing to say. 

Johnny bristled and sneered. “What would you know about relationships?”

“I know plenty.”

“You and that goth chick never got together before she kicked it, freak.” 

Danny froze.

Johnny seemed to realize what he said as well, and began to backtrack. “Woah, woah, I did not mean it like that, kid.” 

A cold sort of anger washed through Danny like a tidal wave, intense and unrelenting. It was overwhelming and sudden, taking over any sort of sensible thought. He unfolded his arms from his chest and clenched his fists at his sides. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Johnny said quickly, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I was just playing.” 

“Playing?” Danny echoed, head tipping to the side. That cold anger coiled inside of his core, hissing like a rattlesnake. He could see dark, black tendrils creeping in to the corners of his vision. Licking his lips, he eyed Johnny. 

Johnny threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under heel, “I’m just gonna head out, okay kid? I’m out of your hair.” 

In a flash, Danny closed the distance, grabbing Johnny’s wrist before it could rest on the handle of his motorcycle. The other ghost stilled, gaze nervously flicking to meet Danny’s. He… wasn’t sure what happened next. One moment he had Johnny’s wrist in his grip, and the next there was the sound of a large crash and the smell of gasoline. He blinked, and saw that Johnny as well as the bike had been tossed across the street into another car.

Danny’s mouth was dry. 

Johnny groaned in pain, “Dammit kid, if you’re going to be like that, just shove me in the thermos and be done with it.” 

Wordlessly, he pulled the Fenton Thermos off of his belt and obliged. Johnny didn’t put up a fight as Danny sucked him into the thermos. 

What had just happened?

Danny wasn’t sure how long he floated there underneath the flickering street, staring at the thermos in hand. He had to return to Dick’s apartment before they noticed he was gone, though. Clipping the thermos back on his belt, he flew in the direction of the apartment and transformed back to Fenton. Carefully, he pushed the front door open. 

No luck as to getting back in unnoticed. 

“Danny!” Came Barbara’s surprised shout. 

That caught everyone else’s attention, all turning to face him.

He walked into the apartment and let the door shut behind him with a click . 

“Are you okay, what happened to your face?” Dick asked, rushing over to Danny’s side. 

His face? 

Danny reached up to touch his nose and when he pulled his hand away, his fingers were coated in blood–red with the faintest flecks of ectoplasm. He realized, belatedly, that his nose stung with the pain of being broken and his chest hurt as if he had bruised some ribs. That frightened him. He didn’t remember fighting Johnny. 

Dick went to put a handle on Danny’s shoulder, and he jerked to the side, slapping the hand away with his own. “ Don’t .” Danny said harshly.

There was something ugly and dark curled in his chest, and Danny did not like it. 

So, he did the sensible thing.

He lashed out.

“Don’t pretend you care,” Danny hissed at Dick. 

Dick stepped back, a hurt look flashing across his face. “You’re hurt,” he murmured. “We didn’t even notice you slipped out, and you come back with a broken nose. I’m worried.”

“Just–just don’t .” Danny spat, “Don’t pretend that you all want me here.” 

Duke had joined Dick’s side and was looking at Danny with obvious concern. His brow was pinched together as he spoke, “We do want you here, Danny.” 

He looked away from the Wayne kids and their friends, instead choosing to examine a particularly interesting wall. Yep, that was a wall.

“Danny?” Dick asked tentatively.

“No, like,” he began to respond without looking away from the wall. “I know I’m only here as a favor. I didn’t delude myself into thinking I was wanted here.”

Dick frowned. “What are you talking about?”

He wondered if the Wayne kids knew about their dad funding Batman. They had to, right?At least Tim had to–he worked for Wayne Industries. He gave a half shrug and said, “Ya know, Batman.” 

There was a tense silence in response to Danny’s words. At that, he wrenched his gaze from the wall to look at them. All of the people in the room were eyeing each other uneasily, some strange ripple of wordless communication passing through them. 

“What do you mean, Danny?” Barbara finally asked gently.

“Batman was in Amity while I was in the hospital. I heard him talking to some detective. They said Batman had a friend that might take an interest, and the next day Bruce Wayne offered to adopt me? Yeah, I can put that one together.” 

More silence.

Danny continued, uncertain now, “I mean, it’s fine. It’s whatever. Bruce Wayne funds Batman. I won’t tell anyone. But I’m only here ‘cause Jazz dealt with a problem of the Bat’s, and he probably asked Bruce to look after me. I’ll be out of your hair the moment I turn 18, don’t worry.” 

“Is that really what you think?” Jason asked dryly. Danny narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to parse the oddly angry expression on his face. 

“What Jason is trying to say,” Dick cut in, “Is that you’re not a burden or a problem or just a favor to someone. You’re here because we want you. You seem like a good kid, and we’re not gonna drop you like that.” 

Danny scrubbed a hand over his face, then turned away. “I’m just going to go back to the manor.”

There was an immediate overlapping of voices at that, as the Wayne kids and their friends all scrambled to try to convince him otherwise. Danny didn’t want to listen, though. He had made his decision and needed to leave . This odd, tight feeling in his chest and the darkness around the corners of his vision were scaring him. He couldn’t be around his adopted family. He just couldn’t.

Ignoring them all, Danny fled through the front door of Dick’s apartment and turned invisible the moment the door shut behind him. It was only shut for the briefest of seconds before Dick wrenched it back open and looked around the hallway, baffled. Looking past the invisible Danny, he muttered under his breath in confusion. 

Danny stepped backwards a few feet, then turned and flew through the wall. 

There’d be consequences to running from the Wayne family movie night, but those would be consequences for a later time. Little did he know how common that line of thinking would become.

Chapter Text

Fleeing from movie night wasn’t Danny’s best moment, but getting out and away from all the people looking at him and fussing over him made the darkness in the corners of his vision recede and the odd feeling in his chest fade to a dull hum. He knew that if he flew directly to Wayne manor and texted them to let them know he was fine, that they might be suspicious of how fast he got from Bludhaven to Gotham. Danny elected to invisibly float over Gotham and weave between the skyscrapers downtown, getting an aerial view of the city he had not yet explored.

It was different from Amity in ways he couldn’t quite put his finger on. There were the obvious things like the constant shrieking of sirens and the way people walking in the night looked on guard. He might attribute the different vibes to Gotham being a much larger city than Amity, but he almost felt like there was something missing in the air. Usually when he breathed deep in Amity, he could feel a pleasant buzz in his lungs. Here, he just smelled smoke and must. Idly, he wondered if the lack of a ghost portal had anything to do with it. Maybe he could sense that Gotham had less ectoplasmic energy. 

That probably meant that natural portals here were few and far between. It was unlikely he could just wait for one to open up to release Johnny back into the Ghost Zone, and he felt guilty about leaving him in the Fenton Thermos for too long. Amity Park was a long way from Gotham City–he was sure he could fly there in a night, but it would take several hours. None of Vlad’s portals were any closer to Gotham, either. 

Should he make his own portal? 

That thought seemed rather appealing the more he thought about it. He’d have to go to Amity Park to get the schematics from Fenton Works, but it’d save him from having to make the trip more than once. Maybe he could ask Bruce for supplies to work on recreating some of his parents’ inventions. He just didn’t have to specify which inventions. 

At some point during his musings, Danny spotted Batman crouched on top of a building overlooking Gotham. He gave the vigilante a wide berth, even if he was pretty sure Batman wouldn’t have anything to detect an invisible ghost. After an hour of flying through the city, taking in the scenery and the feel of the city, he headed back to Wayne manor. In the garage, he transformed back to Fenton and stepped into the house. Pulling out his phone, he sent an update in the group chat with the Wayne children and their friends.

Wayne Fam (NO BRUCE ALLOWED)

You: made it 2 the manor safe

You: if u were worried

Jason : wow great timing, Dick was freaking and about to call Bruce 

Dick: I wasn’t freaking.

Stephanie: U were freaking.

Dick: Never do that again, Danny! :( 

You: sry

Barbara: what happened that made you leave? 

Danny frowned. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that last text from Barbara. It wasn’t possible to tell the truth–after all, ‘Sorry, I apparently fought my ghostly enemy and don’t remember it and then freaked out when everyone was looking at me’ would only bring up more questions than answers. Should he outright lie? That made his gut twist. Maybe if he ignored Barbara’s text, they’d drop it. He could just go back to avoiding Duke and Damian in the manor to avoid the confrontation forever. That was totally healthy. 

Neither Alfred nor Bruce were anywhere in the manor, Danny noted as he headed up to his bedroom. Now that he thought about it, it was weird that Dick didn’t immediately call Bruce when Danny ran away to presumably walk in the middle of the night back to Gotham City. Maybe Bruce was busy with something and that’s why Dick didn’t. It was a mystery that didn’t need solving, so Danny shook his head free of the thoughts and threw open his bedroom door. He flopped onto his bed, sinking into the nest of blankets he had already accumulated. 

Glancing at his phone, he saw that he didn’t have the luck of the others dropping the subject and letting him get by without an explanation. 

Wayne Fam (NO BRUCE ALLOWED)

Tim: i think even damian was worried

Damian: Tt, he’s an outsider on the streets of Bludhaven and Gothan at night. 

Stephanie: I still cant believe u say tt over text.

Tim: thats damian talk for “i was worried”

Direct Message: Duke to You

Duke: Danny?

Duke: Are you alright?

Danny sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He really wasn’t sure what to say to the group, but he could at least try to give a (fake) explanation to Duke. 

Direct Message: Duke to You

You: hi

Duke: How are you? You seemed hurt when you left.

You: im fine

You: maybe a broken nose

You: but im fine

Duke: That doesn’t sound “fine”. What happened?

You: stepped out for air

You: sum guy was harassing sum1 on the street

You: got in his face 

You: got in a fight

Duke: Danny!!! You can’t put yourself in danger like that! :(

Duke: I get you maybe got spooked, but running off after was seriously reckless.

You: ugh u sound like my sister

You: which means ur right *eyeroll*

Duke: Don’t do that in the future!

You: no promises

Duke: >:( 

You: let the others kno that im fine?

Duke: …Yeah, sure. 

Danny switched back over to the Wayne family and friends chat to see that there were maybe thirty or so new messages. He didn’t bother reading through the entire backlog and scrolled to the bottom.

Wayne Fam (NO BRUCE ALLOWED)

Damian: I’m merely saying that Robin would have done a much better job at finding Danny than Red Hood would.

Jason: yeah, sure, demon brat

Stepahnie: I think Orphan would have done the best.

Tim: retweet

Cass: :) 

Duke: Talked to Danny and he’s fine. So, stop arguing. 

Damian: Why would he talk to you?

Jason: do you really think he’d talk to YOU, brat?

Damian: tt

You: ok so weird dami even texts tt

You: im fine tho

You: goin 2 bed

Danny laid his phone down on his chest and sighed, looking up at the ceiling. It had been painted a dark blue and the glow in the dark stars stuck on it in the patterns of some of his favorite constellations. He had subtly coated the stars in a thin layer of ectoplasm to make them glow more strongly, so the glow illuminated the room with a dim light. Raising one of his arms, he traced Cepheus with his finger in the air. It was a circumpolar constellation, but best seen between September and November. He’d have to look for it with the telescope in a few weeks. 

There was a knock at the door, and he dropped his arm. “Yeah?” He called out.

“It is I, Master Danny. May I come in?” Came Alred’s voice.

Danny considered for a few moments before affirming that Alfred could enter. He sat up on his bed and watched as Alfred walked in, holding a tray with a mug on it. Alfred set the tray down on the bed and sat next to Danny. Gesturing for Danny to take the mugs, he said, “It’s hot chocolate. I figured you could use some after your escapade.” 

He winced. “You heard about that already?”

“When Masters Duke and Damian came home without you, I inquired.” Danny carefully picked up the mug of hot chocolate, and Alfred gave a small smile, pleased. He continued, “Are you quite alright? They seemed rather concerned.” 

“Mhm,” Danny intoned while taking a sip. The hot chocolate was warm, creamy, and just what he needed for the nerves he still felt. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Alfred watched him before softly replying, “We all worry. Many of us have been through loss and grief, and we want to be there for you.”

“Oh.” Danny glanced away. That’s what this was about. Suddenly he didn’t feel like he wanted hot chocolate anymore. He held the mug in his lap, warming his hands and bidding them not to shake. “Like I said, I’m fine.” 

Saying that he was fine was easier than the truth. It was easier than admitting that Danny felt like he had something important and vital torn out of him. That know there were these jagged, sharp edges inside of Danny that he was scared would hurt other people. How could he explain the way his ghost core felt hollow and empty now, and about the blackout with Johnny? How could he explain how scared he was? How he wanted to fold himself into his parents’ arms and know everything would be alright?

Danny couldn’t explain any of those things, nor could he ever take comfort in his parents’ embrace ever again. And if he was honest, finding comfort from his parents was something that disappeared long before they died. Was he a bad person if within the pit of grief, there was a small measure of relief there? The weight of holding the secret of Phantom from his parents had been intense and frightening. Some days when his dad described how he wanted to dissect Phantom, it was all Danny could do not to react. With them gone, so too was that fear. 

He felt vile and sick for being even a little relieved his parents were gone. He loved them. He loves them. 

A hand gently laid on his shoulder. Danny looked up through watery eyes, and he was surprised to realize he was crying. Had he cried since the deaths of his friends and family? Or had the emptiness in his core hollowed him out until there weren’t even tears to shed?

Alfred took the mug from his lap, and set it on the tray to the side. Soft and gentle, like approaching a wild animal, he pulled Danny into a hug. “It’ll be alright, my boy. But for now, just let it out.”

At that, Danny felt like a dam had burst. All of the grief and anger and fear and, yes, even the relief inside came flooding out. He cried and cried, not even sure how much time was passing. All through it, Alfred held him and muttered soothing things, pearls of wisdom about loss and pain. Eventually, Danny felt his sobs stuttering to a stop, and he caught his breath. 

Pulling away from Alfred, he wiped his face. “Thanks,” he murmured, not meeting the butler’s eyes. “That was… embarrassing.”

Alfred’s voice was warm when he spoke. “It is my pleasure to help all who come to live in this house. It is not embarrassing to express your emotions.” 

Danny nodded, not sure he was going to take that piece of advice to heart. He looked down at his hands and considered some of what he had been thinking about before. He needed a reliable way into the Ghost Zone, and it felt good to work with his hands like he had fixing the telescope. Working on recreating his parents’ inventions would be two birds with one stone–three, if he counted that he could reason to Alfred and Bruce it was to feel closer to them now that they were gone. He met Alfred’s gaze, and tentatively asked, “Do you think I could use the tools and get some supplies to work on some engineering projects? My parents were inventors and it… it might help. To make something, especially something that they invented. I miss them and…” He trailed off.

Alfred looked thoughtful. “I am sure that can be arranged. I will check with Master Bruce, but it is likely we can set up space in the garage to work on such projects. For now, though, you should rest.” He stood up, gathering the tray and the half-drunk mug of hot chocolate. 

“Good night, Alfred.”

“Good night, Master Danny.”

Danny spent the next day pacing, mostly. He cleared out his closet and measured it to see if a ghost portal would possibly fit. It was the only place he could think of to hide a ghost portal, even if the idea was a bit absurd. He’d probably have to size down the portal and fiddle with the energy supply to get it to run more efficiently. His parents’ used ectoplasm harvested from blob ghosts to power their ectoplasmic energy generators. If he used his own ectoplasm, that would in theory produce more power and allow him to decrease the size of the generator needed. 

Already, he was sketching out ideas and jotting down notes in a journal. Over the years, he had learned a bit about his parents' work from helping them around the lab and, later, taking apart their inventions to figure out how they might affect him. He had gotten relatively proficient with reading their schematics and felt confident he could rebuild their inventions from scratch. He was less confident about modifying them and making his own inventions. It would be nice to have a Fenton Thermos that was more inconspicuous.

He was waiting for the rest of the Wayne family to turn in for the night, so that his disappearance went unnoticed. Slipping out of the house was the easy part, being a halfa and all, but if anyone went to his room to find him and he wasn’t there, that could end up messy if they decided to look for him further. He really didn’t want to worry the Waynes, but he doubted if he asked that Bruce would get him a plane ticket to Amity on such short notice before school started.

From doing quick math, he figured that it would take about 6 hours to fly there. He could be in and out of the house in an hour, and fly back in another 6 hours. Maybe a bit more if he was tired from the flight there. Danny had never attempted to fly so far before in one go, but he could always take a quick trip into the Ghost Zone to replenish himself with some concentrated ectoplasmic energy.

To his luck, Bruce had been called into work that night for some sort of emergency, so there was no family dinner to pretend not to be hiding something at. He waited until about 10 PM to transform, invisibly fly out through the window, and begin his journey to Amity Park. If his stamina held, he could be back by 11 AM the next day and just claim he had wanted to sleep in the last Sunday before school started. 

The flight was long and boring–Danny could only entertain himself by looking at constellations for so long before his mind started to drift. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the Wayne family and their friends. They were welcoming enough, and certainly went the extra mile to make him feel included. But could he really let them that close? Part of himself felt like it was replacing his family and friends to move on so quickly. Another part of himself (one that spoke with Jazz’s inflection) reminded him that it was natural to need social contact and he shouldn’t deprive himself of it. 

There was the matter of his half-ghost status, though. What would the Waynes think? They were from Gotham, after all. Batman notoriously did not want metas or nonhumans in his city. If the Waynes agreed with Batman, then he might be in trouble if they ever found out about Phantom. They wouldn’t understand if they knew. Worst case scenario, they told Batman and Batman handed him over to the Guys in White.

Danny shuddered at that. 

No, he’d have to keep being a halfa and being Phantom under wraps. 

He had just come to this decision when he reached the edges of Amity Park. From there, it was a short ways to Fenton Works. Officially, the house would fall to him when he turned 18, but it’s not like he was stealing anything. It was all now his, after all. He’d probably be in trouble if anyone caught wind of his excursion, since the house technically belonged to the state until he was old enough. 

The Fenton Works sign loomed ahead, albeit not illuminated as it had been when it had occupants. That made Danny’s core ache. Suddenly, he was less certain about this whole mission. Facing his house again after what had happened… 

No. Danny shook his head. He had to be strong. Visiting Fenton Works was something he needed to do. He steeled his resolve and flew into the house, immediately passing through the floor to get to the lab. It looked the way it did when he found Batman and that detective standing in front of the portal, although he had tried his best not to examine the lab at the time.

All over, things were knocked over and smashed from the fight he had with Enchantress. Many of his parents’ inventions were ruined or in a questionable state. Smashed beakers and vials and test tubes littered the floor. 

What hurt most was the smears of blood. Jazz’s blood. Danny remembered desperately trying to stem the flow of blood after Jazz used the Fenton Peeler to defeat Enchantress. Begging, frantically, for her to stay with him. To not leave him. He hadn’t known at the time everyone else was lost too. 

Jazz died in front of him, a minute before paramedics arrived.

She couldn’t be revived.

Danny bit his lip and found his eyes were watering. He blinked away the beginnings of tears and turned away from the blood. Getting lost in memories wouldn’t help. He busied himself by walking over to the computer and examining it for damage. The casing was definitely smashed, but he only needed the harddrive. Using a bit of ectoplasm to cut the casing open, he located and gently removed the hard drive. He had forgotten to grab a bag to carry it in, he realized. There’d be reusable grocery bags in the kitchen he could grab to carry it in. 

Heading back upstairs, Danny found a bag and placed the harddrive in it. He zipped it shut and moved to leave, until something caught his eye. Bearbert Einstein, Jazz’s favorite stuffed animal from her childhood, was sitting on the couch. He wasn’t sure what it was doing there, but it belonged in her room. The bag with the hard drive was set on the counter in favor of picking up Bearbert. He thumbed over the fabric of the old bear, and wasn’t surprised to find that it was soft and clean. Jazz was meticulous like that. Of course she’d take good care of her stuffed animals. 

With the bear in hand, Danny walked up to where his and Jazz’s rooms were. All he had to do was push open Jazz’s door, gently place Bearbert on her bed, and leave. That was it. Easy, right?

Danny entered her room, door whining on its hinges, and did his best to ignore anything besides the bed. He kept his gaze firmly locked on the floor, one foot in front of the other, and walked to the bed. Gingerly, he nestled Bearbert Einstein in between her pillows and stepped back. Then, he noticed something. Jazz’s diary, shoved underneath her pillow. He recalled once in middle school, he had stolen it and read it in hopes of finding teasing material. Jazz had been furious. 

He picked up the journal. It was handbound leather, the kind of thing that Jazz would nerd out over. Curious, he flipped to a random page.

I’m worried about Danny. I’m trying everything I can, but it seems nothing I do is ever enough. He tries so, so hard with no recognition, and he’s internalizing that as a fault of his own. Continually, he pushes himself to the point of exhaustion. What will happen when he has nothing left to give? 

He stopped reading, heart racing. Throwing the book down on the bed, he turned and ran out. This was too much, too fast. Across the hallway was his bedroom, so he flung the door open and rushed in. Slamming it shut behind him with ghostly strength, the room shuddered and something crashed to the ground from a shelf. 

Danny’s head whipped to the side to look at what had fallen and saw one of his models, having broken off its base, rolling on the ground towards him. It was the Apollo CSM-109, or Odyssey–the vessel used for the Apollo 13 mission. It was the last model he had added to his collection, gifted to him by his father for his 13th birthday. His father had been Danny’s strongest supporter of his love of astronomy ever since he, at age 7, declared he wanted to be an astronaut. The planetarium visits and model gifts had been pushed aside while his parents focused on building the ghost portal. That wasn’t what hurt though. What hurt was that they had never resumed. By the time the portal was complete and Danny turned 15, his father had given up on Danny’s dream of being an astronaut. 

No.

His father had given up on him.

He stopped the model from rolling by catching it with his foot and stared down at it. He knew everything there was to know about the Apollo 13 and could recite every recorded transmission. The world had held its breath as the four minute window communications were planned to be down during reentry stretched to six minutes. The Odyssey splashed down in the Pacific Ocean and was met by the recovery ship, USS Iwo Jima. The entire crew survived. Danny’s family didn’t survive. The Fenton family didn’t even die in July like everyone thought.  That might have been when Jack, Maddie, and Jazz passed away (murdered, he reminded himself), but their family had died long ago with the completion of the ghost portal. 

Danny glared at the rocket underfoot, a sneer lifting a corner of his mouth. Why had this dumb model been so important to him before? It was only plastic and glue, so fragile and easily broken. He rolled it back and forth with his foot, considering the Odyssey. Something dark was blooming in his chest. It was an ugly, slimy feeling. He wanted it gone. 

With the Odyssey squarely under his foot, Danny crushed it. The plastic model splintered under the pressure, cracking and crunching until it split apart. 

Ruined. Destroyed. Dead. 

Just like them.

Chapter Text

Danny arrived back at Wayne manor a bit before noon. He dropped off the hard drive in his bedroom before heading down to the kitchen in order to grab a bite to eat. He was famished after flying for over 12 hours, in desperate need of something to drink and eat before crashing for a nap. He wondered if Alfred had made anything for the others for lunch yet. 

Walking into the kitchen, he was unsurprised to find Alfred there. What was surprising, though, was the way Alfred looked at him sternly upon noticing his entry. The butler looked him up and down, as if checking him for any signs of injury, then relaxed a small amount. His expression was still very much one of parental disappointment as he spoke. “Where did you go last night, Master Danny?”

Ah, shit. 

Not expecting to be caught, he hesitated a moment too long before asking, “What do you mean?”

“You weren’t in your room this morning, nor anywhere on the manor grounds.” Alfred said, voice thick with worry and a hint of exasperation. Danny got the sense that this wasn’t the first instance of a Wayne kid sneaking out he had dealt with. He hung his head and fiddled with the hem of his hoodie. When it became apparent Danny was going to remain quiet on the matter, Alfred told him to follow him to Bruce’s study.

Danny obliged the butler and followed Alfred upstairs to Bruce’s office. Inside, there were several familiar voices talking in low, concerned tones. He was able to pick them out as Bruce, Dick, Tim… and Jason? That was odd, he wasn’t sure what stake that Jason would have in his disappearance if he was only a family friend as they all said. He filed away that oddity to deal with later and waited as Alfred knocked on and opened the door. The men in the room had looks of obvious relief upon seeing Danny with Alfred, which sent a little jolt of guilt through his gut. If he had known they’d be so torn up over him sneaking out once, he might have reconsidered. 

“Danny,” Bruce said, standing from where he sat behind the desk to approach him. For a moment, Danny thought his adopted father was going to hug him, but Bruce instead put his hands on Danny’s shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Where have you been?”

“He’ll know if you’re lying,” Tim piped up from where he sat cross legged on a chair with laptop in his lap. 

Danny didn’t see much benefit in lying at this point, so he shrugged and replied, “Amity.”

“You went all the way to Amity Park?” Bruce asked and, when Danny nodded, pulled back and scrubbed a hand over his face. 

Danny added, “I wanted to grab the schematics for my parents’ inventions, so I grabbed a night bus.” 

Bruce circled back to slump down in his desk chair and gestured for Danny to find somewhere to sit. Awkwardly, he plopped into one of the chairs pulled up next to Bruce’s desk and curled one leg under himself. “If you wanted to go back to Amity Park for that, you could have asked.”

He began, “I didn’t think–” 

Jason cut him off. “Yeah, you didn’t think, kid.”

Danny glared then finished his previous thought. “I didn’t think you’d bother letting me go.” 

“I know a lot has changed in a short period of time, Danny, but I want you to be comfortable and cared for here,” Bruce said. “If there’s anything you need, you only have to ask.”

“Really, it’s not–it’s not that big of a deal,” he argued.

Dick gave him a stern look. “You disappeared without letting anyone know where you were.”

“My parents stopped caring where I ran off to,” he tried to say lightly and with some degree of humor, “you guys would do good to follow after them in the art of giving up on me.”

There was a moment of silence as some sort of communication passed between the other men in the room. He had started to notice the Waynes were good at that sort of thing. It was a bit creepy if Danny was being honest. 

Eventually, Dick spoke again. “Gotham is dangerous, Danny.”

“So is Amity, and I was always fine there.” 

“You’re a billionaire’s adopted son,” Tim said, “you’re kinda a big deal here. You could be a target for people trying to hurt Bruce.” 

“Gotta use your head,” Jason grunted from where he was leaning against a wall.

Danny sighed, annoyed. This level of concern wasn’t even flattering, it was just overbearing. He wasn’t gone that long, and he hadn’t been hurt, so what was the big deal? His parents never cared this much when he missed curfew or just didn’t come home at all some nights. They’d assume he was at Sam’s or Tucker’s and not even bring it up later. Having someone–multiple someones–so torn up over where he was every hour of the day was uncomfortable. He vaguely knew that it could just be that they cared, but he doubted that after only being in their lives a few weeks. 

Bruce looked at him carefully, “This can’t happen again, Danny.” 

Danny waved him off, “I’ll just be more careful next time.”

Bruce frowned. That had been the wrong thing to say.

“More careful not to get hurt or not to get caught?” Jason asked, already knowing the answer.

“If you really don’t see what you did as wrong, I’m going to have to lay down some ground rules here.” Bruce said. 

Tim looked up from his laptop, fingers stilling on his keyboard. “Are you seriously thinking of grounding him?”

“I have no choice.”

“C’mon, Danny starts school on Tuesday. You can’t ground him right before school starts–how will he make friends like that?” Tim argued with Bruce.

“Then, what do you propose?” Bruce asked, halfway between amused and annoyed at being challenged in front of Danny.

“I heard from Duke that Danny’s basically been a hermit,” Tim began, “Why not let us drag him around on a tour of Gotham finally?”

Danny straightened up and snapped his gaze to Bruce. “Please just ground me.” He begged.

Jason barked out a laugh. “See, B, seems like a great punishment if the kid is begging to be grounded.”

“Uuuugh, this sucks.” Danny whined. “I haven’t slept at all.”

“And whose fault is that?” Jason asked, looking at Danny from across the booth.

Danny had spent all of that afternoon being dragged around by Dick and Tim, with Jason tagging along to laugh at his misery. They had brought him to two different malls on opposite sides of Gotham and no less than three Wayne Enterprise owned buildings. He didn’t know why Bruce’s company needed to own so many buildings, nor why Tim thought it was necessary that he see so many of them. He had begged them to take him somewhere interesting like the planetarium or even a museum, but Tim had only cheerfully informed him it wouldn’t be a punishment if he was having fun. 

Tim was evil, Danny decided.

His only reprieves were the several times Time would drag the group into a cafe for some coffee and Danny could indulge in caffeine and pastries. Dick finally got Tim to agree that a late lunch was in order, and the group was brought to Bat Burger despite Jason’s protests. The burgers weren’t quite Nasty Burger level of quality, but they came with little Gotham vigilante figures that Danny found fun. He had gotten a figure of Signal, Batman’s newest protege and the only metahuman of the Bat-associated vigilantes. 

“Oh look who it is!” An excited, female voice called out.

Danny looked up from where he was fidgeting with the Signal figure to see Stephanie and Barbara entering Bat Burger. Jason groaned and laid his head on the table, mouthing ‘kill me’ to Danny. He raised an eyebrow at that. ‘Aren’t you friends?’ Danny mouthed back.

“Babs! Steph!” Dick shouted back, standing up to greet the two women. Tim joined him, and the four were chattering away by the doorway. 

Jason turned his head to look at the four, then back to Danny. “There’s about to be too damn much divorced energy,” he complained.

Danny made a face, “Dick and Tim dated Barbara and Stephanie?”

“ Yeah, and it’s terrible that they’re all still friends. Means we have to put up with their weird vibes.”

“Should we ditch while they aren’t looking?” Danny asked.

“We should ditch while they aren’t looking.” Jason agreed.

The two gathered up all their things and headed for the back entrance to escape through. Jason ushered Danny on, whispering conspiratorially under his breath for him to hurry before they noticed. Luckily for the pair, the others were too absorbed in their conversation to notice Jason and Danny escaping. They exited into an alley and once the door closed behind them, burst into low laughter.

It felt good to laugh like that, but when Danny met Jason’s gaze, he paused. That neon green ring in the man’s eyes was definitely there. No normal person would notice it without using some sort of instrument to examine Jason’s eyes, but Danny was no normal person. The color of green was familiar like the back of his hand–it the color of ectoplasm. Danny quickly sobered up at that realization and glanced down to the ground, shuffling away from Jason.

Jason definitely noticed that, but didn’t bring it up immediately. He ruffled Danny’s hair–and what was it with these Waynes and their friends and his hair –and pushed him in the direction of the alley entrance. They fell into an easy silence as Jason led Danny down the streets of Gotham. Occasionally, Jason would point out something he deemed noteworthy. 

After half an hour or so, Jason finally broached the topic. “You keep giving me weird looks. What’s up, kid?” 

Danny shifted away and shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

Jason frowned. “A topic for somewhere private?” He suggested.

When Danny nodded, Jason abruptly pulled them into an alley next to a nearby apartment building. He grabbed something from his pocket that Danny quickly realized was a lockpick set of all things. Jason set to picking the lock chaining up a fire escape ladder and opened it in record time. Tugging down the ladder, he gestured, “Kids first. So you don’t think this is a chance to run off and avoid an awkward conversation.”

Danny scowled but obliged Jason, skittering up the ladder and onto the fire escape. They took the fire escape up a few floors before Jason stopped him and settled down on the ground, legs hanging over the edge. Danny followed and sat down cross-legged.

“So,” Jason began, jabbing him in the shoulder, “‘fess up.”

He wasn’t really sure where to start, so he thought about what he knew. Jason was supposedly a family friend of the Waynes and he had a high enough exposure to ectoplasm to subtly change his appearance. Maybe the white streak was also due to ectoplasmic exposure, when he thought about it. Jason didn’t set off his ghost sense, but the vibe that Danny got was very similar. The man was dripping with ‘I have a weird relationship with death!’ vibes. 

When he thought about it, Danny recalled in the back of his head that his social worker Sarah had told him about all of the Wayne adoptees. One of Bruce’s adopted children had been a boy by the name of Jason, but that the boy had been killed, so Sarah advised him to avoid the topic around the family. Strange, then, that one of their family friends was another man named Jason around the same age. 

Carefully, Danny eventually said, “I can feel death a mile away.” That was too vague and potentially giving himself away, so he added, “Being from Amity Park and all that, ya know.” Jason went very still but said nothing, so Danny continued. “It’s kinda weird that the Waynes have a family friend named Jason, and Bruce had an adopted kid named Jason who died years ago.”

“How did you..” Jason began to ask but stopped himself to ask something else. “What do you mean you can feel death?”

“Ghosts have this sort of vibe,” Danny explained vaguely. “They make your hair stand on end and your heart beat faster and all that. You’re obviously not a ghost , but people contaminated with ectoplasm can have a similar feel.” No one that wasn’t from Amity Park would be able to call him out on being able to feel this. Jason didn’t know that being able to sense that vibe would be weird even for an Amity Park resident.

“And I feel like that?” He asked, voice low. Danny half shrugged but nodded. “Huh. Guess Bruce is right–you’re a smart kid.”

“Pfft, I wouldn’t say that.” Danny said, swatting away Jason’s attempts to ruffle his hair again. 

“Not everyone puts it together that I’m an undead freak based on vibes alone.” Jason pointed out.

Undead freak. That hit close to home. Part of Danny wished he could reach out and let Jason know he wasn’t alone in his weird relationship to death. He wanted to let Jason know that he, too, had died but it didn’t quite stick. It wasn’t even just because he wanted to comfort Jason, he realized, but that Danny craved to connect with someone over this. The only other person he had ever met he could talk to death like this about was Vlad, and that was distinctly different. Vlad never died –his transformation to a halfa had been slow and gradual. It wasn’t like Danny stepping into a portal and being electrocuted with thousands of volts of electricity.

Danny remained quiet, though. He couldn’t even let Jason know that he was a halfa. Instead, he asked, “So how did you come back?”

“That, kiddo, is a story for another day.” Jason said, elbowing him. “Now, you tell me, why did you run off to Amity?”

“Like I said, I wanted my parents’ schematics.” 

Jason gave him a look of ‘come on’. “Yeah, I get that, but why the running away all alone and telling no one?” 

“Easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission?” He replied, although it was more of a question. Danny wasn’t sure why he had done that so impulsively. Of course, he had had his reasoning at the time, but there were probably some deeper issues at play that he did not want to psychoanalyze. 

“Keep doing that and you’ll get yourself killed,” Jason muttered. 

“Says the self-proclaimed undead freak.”

Jason gave him a sharp look, a hint of simmering anger there. When Danny met his gaze and didn’t flinch away, however, the anger washed away from the man’s expression. Instead, he deflated a bit and shook his head. “Do as I say, not as I do.” 

“Right soooo, don’t die?” Danny asked cheekily. A bit too late for that , he thought. 

“Yeah, Danny, don’t die.” Jason replied with a sardonic bite to his tone.

“I’ll try.” Danny told Jason, but the words tasted like ash on his tongue. He was already kinda dead–nothing could really hurt him without ectoweaponry. If he was at no threat of dying or ending his half-existence, then what was the point of going out of his way to avoid all forms of harm? 

That small bit of misguided resolve settled in Danny’s chest, next to his core, and he felt something inside him stretch.

Chapter Text

Starting at Gotham Academy was much more uneventful than Danny was expecting. It wasn't really that different from going to Casper High besides the uncomfortable uniforms. Maybe it was his fault for not trying to be more social and for encouraging it, but most students gave him his space and ignored him for the most part. Duke tried to rope Danny into his friend group, but Danny's aloof attitude at school was probably off-putting. After being dragged to sit with Duke and his friends at lunch for the entirety of his first week, he had politely started to decline and sit on his own.

He was better off that way, he supposed. Making friends had never been his strong suit. Tucker had been the one to make attempts to befriend him when they were in elementary school, and they both had let Sam into their group when middle school came around. Valerie, too, had mostly been the initiator in their friendship. His ghostly friends were different, since interacting with the ghosts was simpler in a way. Once you learned about a ghost, they were pretty easy to predict the behavior and reactions of. Teenagers, on the other hand? Not so easy.

It wasn’t that Danny wasn’t social or even that he was introverted. He thrived on social contact when it came to the people he was comfortable around, but so much time shoved into the category of ‘loser’ had him wary about new friendships.

Danny pretended that he didn't hear the whispers around school about him. Said in hushed tones and accompanied with sidelong glances, his peers talked about how he was another Wayne charity case or that he was a crazy ghost-believer from Amity Park. He pretended he didn't hear that and pretended that it didn't make something inside him curl and twist in on itself. It got particularly hard to ignore after word was passed around school that he wasn't just another crazy ghost-believer but that he was the son of Amity's premiere ghost hunters. Hearing people disparage him was one thing, but that toed too closely to speaking ill of his parents.  After listening to some of those rumors his vision swayed oddly, black spots forming. When he glared in the direction of the gossips, they had gasped and hurried away, muttering that he had creepy eyes.

It didn't hurt or anything.

Danny had spent a long time as a loser in Amity Park, and that was without going into his halfa freakiness. He liked to think he was comfortable with himself and okay that others tended to look poorly on him because of their preconceived notions.

He didn't need friends at Gotham Academy. That was what he convinced himself. Instead, Danny threw himself into his work on his version of the ghost portal and his parents' other inventions. Scaling down the portal to fit in his closet was definitely a challenge he wrestled with for a few days, but he figured it out before too long. He was right that using his own ectoplasm as a power source for the ectogenerators was key in sizing things down, as his ectoplasm was much more potent than the ectoplasm his parents could usually get their hands on. Producing enough of it for the ghost portal's generator had wiped him out on the day he did that, and although he tried to push through it, he had ended up falling asleep in the garage over pieces of scrap metal he was tinkering with.

Bruce had been the one to discover Danny passed out in the middle of working on things and had gently shaken him awake to check on him. After it became very clear that a long nap was in order for Danny, Bruce had scooped him up and carried him back up to his room. Looking back, he was pretty embarrassed that Bruce felt the need to do that, but it reminded him of the sort of thing his dad would have done for him. That thought stung, but in an oddly pleasant way that made him confused. Sure, he was grateful for Bruce taking him in when he did, but he never expected any feelings to extend beyond that.

Danny threw himself even more into the ghost portal project after that event and line of thinking threatened to consume him. He was not about to fixate on Bruce's unexpected kindness and the blossoming fond regard he had for the man. Nope, not gonna happen. Danny would switch between working on the portal and recreating some of his parents' weaponry and tracking equipment that had been destroyed, so that he'd have something to show off to Bruce and Alfred whenever they inquired as to his progress. The two always seemed genuinely impressed by the things Danny was able to create in their garage, but he stressed that for those he was only really following his parents' schematics. After every one had gone to bed at night, Danny would invisibly sneak the completed components of the portal from the garage to his bedroom and hide them in his closet.

He was lucky that his parents' schematics were so meticulously made. What had been a years-long process for them, Danny was able to complete in just a few weeks. It wasn’t due to any brilliance on his own part, since the building was the easiest component of his parents' invention of the ghost portal. The most difficult part for him had been sizing the portal down, but after that it was smooth sailing. There were few calculations for him to do once the generator was figured out, so all that was left was putting together the pieces.

On what Danny was hoping would be the last day of constructing the portal, Duke dropped by the garage to check out what he was doing. It was a good thing that the large, conspicuous pieces of the portal had already been hidden in his closet and the remaining work he had to do was on the ectogenerator. Duke was very curious about how ectoplasm was able to be converted into a near endless source of energy, so Danny indulged the older teen and set the practically complete generator aside to begin showing him how that part was made from scratch.

His parents used ectogenerators on different scales for a lot of their inventions, so Danny had been taking apart and putting them together since he was old enough to take even a passing interest in their work. He figured that he could probably make the power source for a small ectogun off the top of his head without digging out the schematics.

Duke watched with rapt attention as Danny deftly moved the pieces into place, soldering and welding as needed. He was most interested when Danny pulled out a vial of glowing green ectoplasm, his eyes going wide as he looked between it and Danny.

" That's ectoplasm?" Duke asked, brow furrowed.

"Mhm," Danny intoned and nodded. He slotted the tube of ectoplasm into place in the mechanisms of what would become an ectogun.

"I was expecting something less... intensely neon. Honestly I expected ectoplasm to look like–"

Duke cut himself off, sudden alarm crossing his face as he reached out to grab Danny's arm and tug him closer. He wasn't expecting Duke to be so strong or to grab him out of the blue, so he let himself be pulled. Duke was quick to pull him several feet from the power source Danny had been working on and shield the two of them behind one of the cars.

There was an intense hissing noise, like boiling water in a lidded pot, and then the mechanism imploded with a flash of green light.

Danny blinked dumbly. "How did you know–"

"That was a close call," Duke said, cutting him off and shifting nervously. "What happened?"

"Uh..." Danny glanced back to where the small explosion had happened, glad to see that it wasn't large enough to damage anything else in the garage, and thought. All he could think about was how odd it was that Duke was able to know it was going to explode before there were any outward indications. "The ectoplasm I'm using is stronger than what my parents would use. I guess I forgot to account for that." He finally said.

Duke bit his lip, but didn't seem to want to press. He wasn't meeting Danny's eye for some reason. "I'm sure the others are waiting for us to come up for dinner."

"Yeah, sure." Danny said distantly. He let himself be led out of the garage but looked back at the scorch mark on the ground, frowning. His innate sense for ectoplasmic energy should have made him the first to notice it was going to explode, so how did Duke know before him?

He got the sense that he wouldn't get an answer to that if he pressed, so Danny didn't bring up the subject any further to Duke's apparent relief.

Upon reaching the dining room, Danny immediately noticed that the other Wayne kids were there as well. Dick, Tim, Jason, Damian, and Cass were all seated at the table with varying degrees of interest in the conversation. Jason was the first to notice Duke and Danny and gave a half wave that caught the others' attention. "You both look like you saw a ghost." Jason chuckled.

Danny thought that Duke was going to say how he had blown something up in the garage, and that he'd have to defend that it was really only a very tiny explosion. Instead, Duke just plastered a grin on his face and seemed at ease with the company of his siblings. "Can't help it when I see your ugly ass."

Jason mocked being offended, a hand to his chest. "Duke! You wound me. I'm not a ghost, I'm everyone's favorite revenant."

Danny snorted and spoke before his brain could catch up to his mouth. "Favorite revenant is a funny way to say 'undead freak'."

Bruce and Dick shared concerned, tight looks at that. Tim looked thrilled, Cass contemplative, Damian annoyed, and Duke confused. Ah , Danny thought. Jason hadn't told the others that he had figured out Jason's identity.

"Don't look so constipated, B," Jason told Bruce with a wave of his hand. "You're the one that said Danny was a smart kid."

"So he does know about your, ah, condition?" Bruce clarified.

" Condition. You make it sound like I have cancer, but yeah, kid's aware."

"C'mon, Danny's from the ghost capital of the world–of course he can figure out weird death stuff." Tim pointed out.

"It wasn't that hard."  Danny muttered. 

Dick shook his head, "Usually it's too weird for people to figure out."

Danny took his seat at the dinner table, settling in next to Jason who, of course, made a pass to try to mess up his hair. He smacked Jason’s hands away with a scowl, much to the amusement of Cass who gave a breathy giggle from across the table. He stuck his tongue out at her, and she smiled but looked down at her glass of water. 

Dinner passed with as little fanfare as was possible with all the Wayne children present. Tim told him that he, Dick, and Jason would be leaving in the morning, but that he’d be stuck with Cass for a few more days. Cass seemed pleased but nervous at spending some time around the manor, but remained quiet as usual throughout dinner. He’d have to bother one of the Waynes or Stephanie or Barbara to help him learn sign language to communicate with her on a level she was comfortable with. 

What consumed most of his thoughts, however, was the nearly finished portal waiting for him. All he had to do was lug the generator up to his room, and he could finish assembling it and plug it in. He was excited to finally be done with the project, and he couldn’t help but let slip some of his excited nerves at dinner. The other Waynes didn’t comment on it, but he caught Bruce and Dick exchanging silent looks with a small gesture towards him. The damned Waynes and their silent communication.

As soon as dinner was done, Danny thanked his adopted family and ran back to the garage to fetch the generator. After a quick look around for any observers or hidden cameras in the garage, he turned invisible and hoisted the ectogenerator up on his shoulder. He flew back to his bedroom, passing through the floor, and hurriedly began to put the final pieces together. The power source slotted nicely into the control panel of the portal, and he stepped back to admire his handy work.

The modified ghost portal was all but finished–he just needed to connect a few wires, plug it in, and turn it on.

Danny smiled at that.

Then that smile fell.

He had to turn it on. His fists curled at his sides, pressing crescent indentations into his palms. Memories of tripping in his parents’ portal, of his hand landing on the on switch, and of pain flooded him. He couldn’t think of anything but the pain–of the agony of thousands of volts of electricity and the raw, pressing fear of I’m gonna die, I’m dying. 

His mouth was dry.

He–he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t turn the portal on. 

Danny took a few steps back from the portal in his closet, then slammed the closet door shut to hide it from view. He turned and flung himself onto his bed, sinking into the comforter and groaned. 

All that work for nothing.

Danny drifted in a sea of ectoplasm green and cat's eye yellow. The colors swirled around him in a way reminiscent of the Ghost Zone. It was devoid of any sense of up or down, left or right. There were no landmarks, no doors, and no other indication of where or even when he might be. He wasn't sure how long he existed in that haze, that stupor of little sensation. He wasn't breathing nor was his heart beating. The only feeling was that of a hand carding through his hair.

He supposed he should be confused or lost, but he figured this was merely a strange but pleasant dream of color and void and whispered words–for there was one thing he could hear, and it was a soft murmur spoken into his ear. The voice spoke of comfort and rest. It spoke of giving in and letting go. That something that had nestled inside of Danny next to his core was stretching like a cat after a long nap. He leaned back into the hand petting his hair and felt content listening to the murmuring. It was true that he was rather tired and could use a break.

With that self-admission, the gentle whispering stopped and the hand in his hair stilled.

A voice spoke, loud and firm but maternal, "You are so tired, dear. Wouldn't it be nice to let someone else step in for a bit?"

Danny hummed in response, his tongue thick in his mouth and unable to form words. He could feel his eyelids drooping shut, his body going limp. With his friends and family dying, moving to Gotham, starting a new school, and rushing into making the ghost portal–he wouldn't mind taking a step back from all of the stress and the pain. He tried to put on a brave face, but he hurt deep inside, and it was a pain he couldn't put into words. The sadness was overwhelming, so it turned to anger. Then the anger would burst out of him like some sort of vicious creature, and he hated it. He groaned and scrubbed his face with a hand.

"Shhhh, dearest." The voice hushed him, soothing and low. "Let me handle the portal."

And Danny thought that might be alright. He thought that making the ghost portal again would be easy, but standing in front of it and staring at the frame was too much for him to handle. It had sent him spiraling through memories of fear and pain and death . He wanted the ghost portal, but turning it on was too much too fast.

"I will help you, and you will see that I am only here to protect you, my child." It crooned. "I'm only here to love you like others can't. Like you can't love yourself."

So Danny, drifting in that void of green and yellow, let go. The presence with him left, and he was so very alone.

When Danny awoke, it was to a swirling pool of neon green. He gasped and stumbled back, eyes wide as he gazed upon a powered up and operating ghost portal. For a moment he thought he was back in Fenton Works, but then realized that this was the portal in his closet–the one he had gone to bed without plugging in. The realization hit him like a freight train, and he stumbled backwards out of the closet. He tripped and hit the ground hard.

How did the portal get turned on? Did he do that? He strained to remember, but found only flashes of sensations of drifting alone and a voice in a hazy dream.

Danny stared at the swirling green of the portal for a minute dumbly before he crawled forward and reached up to press the button to close the portal doors. With a grinding noise the portal shut, and there was only smooth, gray steel in front of him. His heart was beating rapidly, far too rapidly for a halfa, and his hands were slick with sweat.

The sensation of confused fear was not new to Danny, but he did not enjoy it one bit. He scooted back out of the closet without standing, and pushed the closet door shut, unable to bear to look at the portal even while closed. His mind was swimming with questions and fear and confusion and too much . It was too much . He thought his fear of turning on the portal had been bad, but this was something else.

Danny sat there, knees pulled to his chest, for a long while. There wasn't any light filtering through the window when he began his tense, fearful vigil, but eventually the sun rose to herald a new day. He vaguely recognized he should get up and head down for breakfast, but stayed still as if moving might cause the closet doors to spring open and reveal the green of the Ghost Zone once again.

A knock at the door and a voice, familiar this time. "Master Danny, will you be joining us for breakfast? Masters Dick, Tim, and Jason will be leaving afterwards and might enjoy saying goodbye.”

“Uh, yeah,” Danny called back, “I’ll be down in a few minutes. J–just start without me.”

Alfred’s footsteps retreated back down the hallway, leaving Danny alone in his room to get up off the floor. He had to get ready for the day. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to just barricade himself in his bedroom and brood–the Waynes had made sure of that with their constant pestering and inviting him to meals and whatnot. He didn’t bother changing his clothes before heading out, not wanting to open the closet door again.

Danny threw one backward glance at the closet before exiting his room. Whatever had happened that night with the weird dream and turning on the portal in his sleep would have to be a mystery for another day. For now, he had to put on a smile and pretend to his adopted family that everything was okay. 

Easy enough.

Right?

Chapter Text

Cassandra stuck around that weekend, spending most of her time playing with Damian and his pets. Danny got the sense not that she was avoiding him, but rather that she wasn’t completely comfortable around strangers she couldn’t communicate with effectively. He had been told that she could speak, but that sign language was easier for her to express herself with. Never before had he needed to use sign language, so even though Duke was teaching him basics, he couldn’t do much more than fingerspell yet. When Cass was with another member of the Wayne family, she was happy enough to talk to Danny through them. 

Now, however, Cass was alone in the entrance to the Wayne manor looking around frantically. Danny, walking down the stairs to head to the kitchen, paused and watched her flutter around the room, obviously looking for something. He considered a moment before speaking up. “Cass, do you need something?”

Her head snapped up to look at him, then she quickly looked down at her feet, uncertain. She was biting her lip. Danny felt a wave of uncertainty coming from her. It took him a few moments before he realized, if he focused enough that he could sort of get a vibe from her of what she wanted to communicate. He could tell she was looking for something she thought was important, so he slid down the banister and hurried over to her side.

“Let me help you look.” He offered.

Focusing on her, he could tell she wanted to ask, How? 

“We can basically do 20 questions?” He suggested with a shrug. She nodded. With a smile, Danny asked his first question. “Is it smaller than a bread box?”

What?

“It’s a classic 20 questions starter!” Danny argued. 

If you say so , Cass conveyed with a small laugh, then nodded yes. 

“Your phone?”

No. 

“Medications?”

A pause and then, no.

“So not medications, but something to help you?”

Yes.

Danny tapped a finger to his chin, considering what could be important to Cass and meant to help her. Maybe some sort of communication aid? But it wasn’t her phone, so perhaps– “A journal?”

Yes! Cass nodded enthusiastically

“I saw a black notebook in the library when I was there earlier,” he offered.

Cass threw her arms around Danny to pull him into a hug. Thank you! Then, she pulled back and was off in a blur to run up the stairs. 

He called out a goodbye to her retreating form, simply happy he was able to help his adopted sister.

The next week passed easily enough, with Danny splitting his time between school, working on his projects in the garage, and exploring the Ghost Zone at night. School was fine, if not a bit lonely without Sam and Tucker at his side. He had some classes with Duke, but he didn't want to intrude on Duke and his friends. For the first time in high school, he was actually getting good grades. Without ghost attacks to distract him, he was able to pay attention in class and get his work turned in.

With his parents' inventions, Danny was attempting to modify the Fenton Thermos to be either collapsable or entirely smaller. Attempt being the key word. Apparently downsizing a containment unit for extradimensional beings was harder than downsizing a portal to the afterlife. He figured that ghosts were so densely packed with ectoplasm that converting them to pure energy and storing that energy was incredibly difficult. Now that he was looking at the schematics and calculations, he was astounded by his parents' genius to be able to get the Thermos as small as it was in the first place. Something twice the size and weight of a car battery seemed more likely to be able to store the sheer amount of energy a ghost contained. But, if his parents had managed to make the Fenton Thermos, then maybe he'd be able to manage to improve upon it.

His favorite pastime, though, was mapping out the Ghost Zone. At night when he was sure that the others must be asleep, he headed through his closet ghost portal and into the expanse of the Ghost Zone. The first night, he had released Johnny, which hadn't gone over too smoothly. The biker ghost was understandably pissed at being left in the thermos for a month, complaining that Kitty must be either worried sick or angry beyond belief. There was a degree of wariness the ghost held himself with, though, as if expecting Danny to attack him. Johnny was quick to leave despite Danny's pressing to find out what happened the night of his first blackout. 

In the Ghost Zone he had the oddest sensation of something urging him on. It wasn't a normal curiosity, but rather a sense of longing and searching for something. During his wanderings, he had found where Pariah Dark's keep was located. Danny had been there once before, of course, when Amity was pulled into the Ghost Zone, but that was before he had developed any sense of direction in the Zone. Finding it again was strange. The keep was quiet, the swirling air around him still as the grave and air palpable with a sense of waiting. Danny felt a strange joy and eagerness blossom inside of him upon finding the keep that had frightened him, causing him to turn tail and fly away. 

He avoided that area of the Ghost Zone after that. 

Danny considered visiting some of his ghostly allies like Frostbite or Pandora, but he wasn't sure if news of Casper High's collapse and his family's deaths had reached those parts of the Ghost Zone. He wasn't particularly keen on answering questions about that and about where he'd been since disappearing out of Amity. He really hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him to fight ghosts coming through the natural portals. Vaguely, he wondered if anyone blamed Phantom for the tragedy. Sometimes, he even blamed himself.

A particular area of the Ghost Zone, Danny discovered, had the strangest version of the night sky. The green of the Zone swirled in with blues and purples in a dazzling display of color, with stars that appeared like small spots of void rather than points of light. Had he not recognized the arrangement of the black pits in the fake sky, he wouldn't have realized they were supposed to mimic stars. In this area of the Zone was an island with a lake that was such a dark purple it appeared nearly black. Flecks of silver glittered in the water, and when he cupped it in his hands, it was pleasantly cool to the touch. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he got the sense this island was just outside the influence of another ghost's lair. That island quickly became his favorite spot to bring his schoolwork and study away from the manor. He didn't really need to study for his AP Astronomy test, but the scenery certainly made it more fun.

It was after his AP Astronomy test that this brief period of easy quiet ended. When walking through the halls of Gotham Academy, Danny usually didn’t pay much mind to his surroundings. There were no friends or even bullies to keep an eye out for, so he retreated into his own thoughts of stars and celestial bodies, wondering how he did on his test. 

That was until he heard someone shout, “Hey, freak!”

Danny paused and glanced back, a knee jerk reaction to years of being bullied to see who it was coming to torment him. There was a student he recognized as a senior with dark hair and wearing a letterman jacket over his uniform. He braced himself for the worst, but the boy walked right past him and towards another poor soul. 

The letterman jacket wearing student grabbed another by the shoulder and pushed him into the lockers with enough force to cause the other student to nearly fall. The target of this wannabe bully was Jeremy, a stereotypically nerdy kid with big, round glasses that reminded Danny of Poindexter and was in his calculus class.

“Brad, can we not do this today?” Jeremy pleaded.

Most other students were passing by the pair, watching them out of the corners of their eyes but otherwise ignoring it. Danny was pretty sure that reaction was worse than in Casper High when students would stop and watch. The apathy was crueler than participating in the bullying, he thought. It didn’t sit right with him. 

Brad scowled, looming over Jeremy, “You think just ‘cause you think you’re smart that you’re better than me?”

“What? No!” 

“I don’t need some pathetic pity-case orphan showing me up in class,” Brad said.

Danny frowned at that, his gut twisted. He couldn’t just stand here and do nothing. “Shove off, meathead,” he called out, stepping closer to where Brad had Jeremy pushed against the lockers.

Brad’s gaze snapped to the side in a way that Danny was sure he thought intimidating but instead almost put a smile on his face with how pathetic the attempt was. “Oh, look, it’s one of the Wayne kids. Of course.” 

“Why don’t you let Jeremy go and tell me what the hell that’s supposed to mean,” Danny said dryly. 

To his surprise, Brad did. The jock removed himself from where he had Jeremy pinned to the lockers and stalked forward. He was probably almost a foot taller than Danny and built like a linebacker but was the least intimidating thing Danny had seen in a while. 

“You sad freaks gotta stick together and all that.” Brad sneered, “You’re only here because some pedophile billionaire took an interest. It’s a surprise Wayne didn’t leave you to rot on the streets of your crazy ghost town, I would have thought you’re too old for him.”

Danny’s vision swayed as anger flooded him, hot and sudden. Before he could stop himself, he pulled his arm back and decked Brad as hard as he could across the side of his face with a sickening crunch . The jock was thrown back, his head bouncing off the lockers and body sliding to the ground. Around him there were gasps and calls for a teacher. Figures that only now people would be interested in getting a teacher involved.

He watched Brad, sight still blurry, and waited for the other boy to get up. The jock didn’t and remained curled on the floor. For a horrifying moment, Danny wondered if he killed Brad. As soon as he had punched him, he knew that there was definitely ghostly strength leaking into his human half in that moment, but he hoped it wouldn’t be enough to…

No, Brad was still breathing, although it was shallow and rapid. 

And Danny felt good. Really good–like ‘downing ice cold water on a summer day’ good. 

That pleased feeling made him sick to his stomach. How could he be happy having attacked a defenseless human? Sure, Brad was a jerk, but Danny was supposed to be above that by now. 

“What is the meaning of this?” 

There was the teacher. He zoned out, as the teacher demanded to know what was happening. A nearby student gave an embellished account of events, but Danny couldn’t care to correct her. All he could think about was the disgusting sensation of satisfaction that curled in him. He let himself be led away to the principal’s office by the furious teacher, not bothering to throw Brad a backwards glance.

He didn’t bother to defend himself as the teacher recounted events secondhand, painting him out to be a violent bully in the situation. It didn’t matter whether or not he started the altercation to Danny at this point, he certainly felt like a bully–worse than a bully. There was still that slimy, pleased feeling that had his stomach protesting. When the principal mentioned considering expulsion for him, Danny just glanced away in shame. 

It was settled on that he’d be suspended for a week–as a warning–and he was left waiting outside the office to be picked up. The halls were quiet with everyone in class, so the sound of approaching footsteps had Danny perk up. He had expected to see Alfred, but to his horror it was Bruce that had come to pick him up from school. Bruce’s expression was tight but hard to decipher except for the slightest hint of concern. 

“H-hi, Bruce,” Danny greeted him weakly. “What are you doing here?”

Bruce did not look impressed. “I got the strangest call at work. Something about you sending another student to the hospital? Does that ring any bells?”

Danny sighed, collected his bag, and stood up. “Yeah, I fucked up, just take me home and ground me.” 

Bruce seemed to want to argue but held his tongue, instead leading Danny out of the school and to his car. Danny went to sit in the back seat to avoid an awkward conversation, but a sharp look from Bruce had him reluctantly sliding into the front passenger seat instead. As the car started up and they drove away from the school, the silence was unbearable. Occasionally, Danny would look over to Bruce and open his mouth to say something but lose the courage and fall silent. 

It was Bruce that broke the silence. “Why?”

“Does there need to be a reason?” Danny asked. “It was a stupid fight I picked.” The lie slid off his tongue easily. It was what he wanted his adopted father to believe, rather than know about the gross turmoil going on inside of him.

“Why are you hiding this from me?” Bruce looked over, worry creasing his brow, “I really think there’s more to this than you’re saying.”

Danny scowled. “I’m not hiding anything” He said, voice hollow. In his head, he was replaying that moment of impact and the way Brad’s jaw had cracked under his fist, searching desperately for the remorse and regret he wanted to feel. 

All he felt was that sick satisfaction of hurting someone that tried to challenge him. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the headrest. Danny figured Bruce didn’t believe him, but he was better off thinking Danny was a liar rather than a monster.

Jason found Danny a few hours later where he was hiding away in the library, reading a book on Greek mythology. He didn’t bother looking up from the book to watch Jason enter, instead knowing it was him by sense. “You’re not who I expected Bruce to send.”

“I know a thing or two about acting out.” Jason said, plopping down on the ground close to where Danny sat pressed between two bookshelves. “I’m gonna disappoint B, though, and tell you that sometimes violence is the answer, kid.”

Bewildered, Danny shot Jason a glare. “Are you trying to reverse psychology me or something?”

“Nope! Just think sometimes people deserve to get the shit kicked out of them.” Jason leaned over and snatched the book from Danny, snapping it closed without marking the page. 

“I was reading that.”

“Yeah, which means you weren’t listening to me.” Jason pointed out. “I think that kid you fucked up did something that made him deserve it, and you aren’t telling anyone that.”

“No one deserves–”

“Nah, sometimes people totally deserve a punch in the face or kick to the groin.” 

Danny drew his knees up to his chest. “By resorting to violence, I just become what everyone believes me to be.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Danny shook his head, not giving an answer. How could he explain it to Jason? There was no way to describe how he had spent his whole life being told ghosts were violent, evil, and hardly sentient. He knew that wasn’t true after being made half ghost, but now he was doubting himself again. What if everyone was right about ghosts–right about him? What if there was something terrible and wrong with him?

After a few minutes, Jason got the memo that Danny was done with the conversation. With a sigh, he hopped back up to his feet and exited the library. Calling back, he said, “When you’re done brooding, I’ll sneak you out for some fun.”

The easy, light-heartedness of Jason’s voice did nothing to assuage his worries. Danny was only left with the uneasy conviction that he was becoming a monster.

Chapter Text

Dinner that night had been awkward, to say the least. Bruce attempted to pry out the details of the fight at school from Danny, who remained stubbornly tight-lipped. Damian was annoyed about the whole affair, Jason kept saying the kid probably had it coming, and Duke tried to remain neutral between Bruce and Danny. It ended with Bruce reluctantly giving up and grounding Danny during his suspension. 

He had merely shrugged, said he didn’t go anywhere anyways, and excused himself from the table. It probably wasn’t the reaction Bruce was hoping for, but Danny’s parents had grounded him enough times since he became half ghost that the sting really wasn’t there anymore.

So, Danny sat in his room pouring over the schematics of the Fenton Thermos and the relevant calculations trying to unravel the genius that was his parents’ design. He was absorbed into the task, but his keen hearing and sharp awareness of his surroundings was enough to pick up on the soft noise of something small pinging off his window. Curious, he dragged himself to his feet and walked over. Something hit his window again–a rock about the size of a quarter. 

His brow furrowed and he pushed up the window enough to stick his head through. Looking down, he saw that standing on the yard below it was Jason, holding a handful of small rocks gathered from who knows where. 

“C’mon kid! We’re sneaking out.” Jason shouted up to him. 

Danny considered back and forth to himself. On one hand, if he was caught then his grounding would get extended most likely. On the other hand, he was half ghost and a grounding really wasn’t that big of a deal when he could turn invisible and walk through walls. Making his decision, Danny grabbed his phone and shimmied out of the window. There was conveniently a large tree close to the window that he could jump to and catch himself on a branch. Any normal teenager might be intimidated by such a feat, but Danny’s fear of heights had gone out the window when he learned the joys of flying.

Danny lept from the windowsill to the tree, deftly grabbing the branch and pulling himself up. Below him, Jason did a joking golf clap and shouted out wry encouragement. Rolling his eyes, Danny set to work carefully navigating down the tree and reached the ground with no problems.  Jason clapped him on the back, and Danny ducked out of the way of yet another hair ruffle. 

"Good job, little bird." Jason said.

"Little bird?" Danny asked, skeptical of the nickname,

"Eh, it's a family joke. You'll get it one day." Jason waved off Danny's skepticism and dragged him through the yard of Wayne manor towards the back entrance. Parked in the driveway was a sleek black motorcycle. Danny was slightly disappointed to find that Jason's motorcycle didn't have vanity plates.

Jason offered Danny the motorcycle helmet, which he took despite the fact he was pretty sure a car crash wouldn't hurt him that badly. He asked, "Where are we going?"

"Heard you like stars. There's a nice overlook about an hour out of Gotham."  Jason responded, getting onto the bike and patting the seat behind him.

Danny hesitantly got on the bike as well. The engine purred as Jason turned on the motorcycle, and, after a glance back that Danny was situated, they were off. 

Having never been on a motorcycle before, Danny found that he really enjoyed the ride out of Gotham. He certainly got the appeal of using a bike over a car now. If Jazz could see him now, she'd freak out about how dangerous motorcycles were and how likely Danny was to land himself in a hospital. The danger factor, even if Danny was a halfa, made the ride that much more thrilling. Jason took the speed limit as a light suggestion more than anything, so they were going at a breakneck speed. It was honestly over far too quickly. 

They pulled off the highway at an overlook where you could see Gotham below in the distance and all of the glaring lights of the city. He was pretty sure despite Gotham's reputation as dark and dreary, that the city never truly was dark. The night air was crisp and refreshing, as Danny pulled the motorcycle helmet off and shook his hair out. Jason laughed at the mess his hair had become, teasing him for helmet hair. Danny considered throwing the helmet at his adopted brother, then did so after a moment of hesitation. With surprising reaction time, Jason caught the helmet and smirked at him. 

Danny rolled his eyes and turned towards the overlook. There was a part where the railing had long since been damaged and removed, presumably to be replaced before it got lost in the shuffle. He headed over and sat himself down, legs dangling over the cliff and looked at Gotham, not yet sure if he was watching the city with any measure of fondness. His gaze drifted from the city to the stars overhead–still not as clear as they had been in Amity Park, but better than in the city proper. Jason joined him, and they sat in silence for a while. 

It was Danny that broke the silence eventually. "You know, I wanted to be an astronaut."

"That tracks." Jason said, tipping his head to the side, "What changed?"

Quietly, Danny replied, "I did. It could never happen now."

"I know your grades were kinda crap at your old school, but the old man takes any chance to brag about how well you're doing at Gotham Academy. You got time to bring up your GPA and get into a good college." Jason pointed out.

"It's not about grades." Danny shook his head, tone forlorn. "NASA would never want someone like me" Then, soft and almost to himself, he added, "No one would."

Jason's response was quick but with a surprising amount of gentleness, "I want you, kid. The whole family does." 

Danny wanted to take comfort in Jason's words, but he couldn't help but think if they knew the truth that everything would change. He met Jason's eyes and gave him a fake smile, as if to convey to him that everything was alright and the words did comfort him. Then, he turned his gaze back heavensward and wondered what it'd be like to get lost between the stars. 

Danny was heading to the library the next day when he overheard voices. Namely, voices talking about him. He could pick out that it was Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Jason. 

"I just don't know what to do." Bruce was saying.

Danny crept forward towards the open door of Bruce's study. He paused outside it, pressing himself to the wall to listen.

"He's lost a lot B, he's kinda going through it." Dick said.

"I know that, but he's backsliding into dangerous territory." 

Alfred considered, "You're worried that he'll continue to act out?"

Bruce sighed. "Between the disappearing act, this, and refusing to actually let anyone help him, he's just going to destroy himself."

"You're overreacting, Bruce." Jason argued.

"The kid's parents contacted me and wanted to press charges before I talked them down. He'll need multiple surgeries to repair his jaw."

"So, Danny has a good right hook. What of it?" Jason said.

"He has a practiced ' right hook' . What if he's hurt someone like this before?"

Dick made a concerned noise of consideration, but Jason laughed. "You can't be serious."

"Most of the teachers at his previous school seemed convinced he was involved in something unseemly. I thought they were wrong. Danny seems like a nice kid, but..." Bruce trailed off.

"Sometimes people are what they are," Dick said. 

Danny had enough of listening to this conversation, something dark and ugly threatening to burst out from inside him. He stepped into the doorway and cleared his throat. The four men looked up to see him with varying degrees of worry. 

"Master Danny, we were–" Alfred began to say.

Danny cut him off. "No, I heard. Heard enough to know I should just stop being your problem."

"Danny, we're just worried–" Bruce tried to get a word in, but Danny wasn't having it.

"No, I see how it is. You never wanted to deal with me in the first place, so I'll do us both a favor and go." He said, words all but a hiss. Part of him said he should stop and listen to Bruce, but he shoved that part down. He had heard enough to know how they truly felt.

Danny turned and ran. He could hear the sounds of someone going to follow him, so when he turned a corner briefly out of sight, he slipped into invisibility and stepped to the side to stand against the wall. Jason ran right past him, the sensation that came with the man's presence sending a prickling sensation up his arms and the back of his neck. Then, he was gone. When the sounds of footsteps were distant, Danny intangibly flew through the roof and fled Wayne manor.

Danny flew aimlessly over the city of Gotham long enough for day to turn to night. Floating over a part of the city that he did not recognize, he realized that he was famished. He hadn't eaten lunch before running off, and flying all day had worn him out. He checked his phone for the time, and was surprised to see it was well past 2 AM. Most fast food places would be closed by now, but maybe he could find a convenience store. There were also about a million missed calls and texts from the Waynes, but he just swiped those notifications away to ignore. 

He descended into an alleyway and ducked behind a trash can to fade back into the visible spectrum. Hopefully no one would think too hard that he had never walked into the alley when they saw him walk out of it. Danny wandered the streets for a bit, sticking to the more well lit ones, in search of somewhere still open to grab anything to eat. He was lucky enough to find a corner store still open, so he ducked inside, the door chiming as it opened. 

The tired looking cashier greeted him in a dull tone, and Danny grunted a greeting. He quickly checked the wallet in his back pocket to see how much cash he had with him, and found a crumpled 10 dollar bill. Good enough, he figured. 

As he browsed the chip aisle, the door chimed again. He glanced up to see someone in a dark hoodie and jittering hands enter. The vibe he got off of the person wasn't great–anxious and anticipating something. Danny slowly backed up to the back of the store, his back hitting the glass of the refrigerators. 

The man in the hoodie was standing in front of the cashier, who looked up, confused. "Can I help you?" 

Danny watched as he clutched something in the pocket of his hoodie and spoke nervously. "G-give me... all your money." 

It was a bit of a pathetic demand, but still enough to set Danny on defense. He was pretty sure that the man hadn't noticed him when he entered, so he could just intangibly slip out and save his own skin from getting involved. A glance at the fearful expression of the cashier had that plan thrown out immediately. 

"I can't do that." The cashier squeaked out, voice choked by fear.

A quick movement had the man in the hoodie reveal a gun, and he stepped forward, waving it in the direction of the cashier. Danny could hear blood rushing in his ears. He had to do something. Careful and slow, he approached the turned back of the man. He was almost certain he could knock the man unconscious before he hurt the cashier. Unless–

The cashier's gaze flicked to Danny. 

Big mistake.

The man in the hoodie caught on and spun around with a shout. They both moved to act at the same time, the man squeezing the trigger on his gun and Danny jumping forward to try to grab him. Danny felt the impact before he heard the gun fire–something tearing through his chest with a burst of pain. He cried out, and stumbled. The man in the hoodie turned to flee, but Danny felt his eyes flash in determination.

He lunged and grabbed the man around the waist, tackling him. Ignoring the screaming pain in his chest, Danny balled his hand in a fist and punched the downed man in the temple. There was a grunt of pain, and he fell limp. 

Danny unsteadily got to his feet, stumbling back until he hit one of the shelves and slid back down to the floor. 

The door burst open and entering in was one of Gotham's vigilantes–Red Robin. 

"I heard a gunshot, are you alright?" He asked the cashier in a firm but gentle voice.

"S-someone got shot–he saved my life–I..." The cashier choked out.

Red Robin's gaze snapped to where Danny sat on the ground, clutching his chest with a hand. The hero's expression widened into one of shock, and he moved quicker than Danny thought possible for a human. Without hesitation, he scooped Danny up into his arms and made a beeline towards the entrance, saying, "We can't afford to wait for an ambulance this time of night, I'll bring him to the hospital myself." For some reason, Red Robin's voice shook. 

"N-no," Danny groaned, "No hospital."

But, Red Robin ignored him in favor of darting out onto the streets and pulling out a grappling hook. Then, they were swinging through the air. Had Danny been in his right state of mind and not going into shock, he might have admired the athleticism of Red Robin, holding Danny in one arm and supporting both of their weight on the grappling hook in the other. The world was tilting and spinning in Danny's vision, and he felt something grasping and squirming inside of him, clawing to be let out. He fought to keep conscious and fought against the grasping sensation 

"S-stop." Danny ground out. 

He couldn't go to a hospital, not in Gotham. In Amity Park it had been tough but doable to explain away his odd blood and weird vitals by being ectocontaminated, but here he doubted that would fly. Everyone would know he was something else and his secret would get out–what if press got involved? What if Danny was outed to the whole world? He shuddered thinking of that. 

He couldn't let Red Robin bring him to the hospital.

"I said–" he gasped for a breath, "I said, stop." 

"Can't do that, Danny," Red Robin replied. 

His blood ran cold at that. Red Robin knew who he was. Red Robin worked with Batman. Batman worked with Bruce. Bruce would find out about this one way or another. 

They landed on the roof of a building a bit harder than Red Robin probably intended, but it was enough of a jolt for Danny to tear himself out of the vigilante's grip. He hit the roof and rolled away, groaning in pain as he did. He pushed himself to his feet, shaking like a leaf. 

Red Robin approached him, "I have to get you to a hospital."

"No!" Danny shouted, "I won't go." 

Red Robin was stepping forward–he was too close and Danny needed to get away. Danny stumbled back, and Red Robin froze. 

The vigilante put his hands up in a placating gesture. "Easy there, Danny."

The use of his name did not calm Danny from his state of panic, but rather stirred up the confusion and fear and that dark, ugly feeling even more. He stepped back again and again and–

Again.

His foot didn't hit solid ground, but rather air. Danny teetered back, unable to recover his footing and fell. 

All he could hear besides the rushing of air was the heart-wrenching scream of Red Robin calling his name.

Chapter Text

Danny hovered outside the kitchen, listening to the low, somber voices of his adopted family discuss him. Or rather, discuss finding his dead body. This was going to be so awkward when he walked in and very clearly was not dead. 

What was he even planning on saying? Maybe he’d just play dumb and play it off like Red Robin had misidentified him. Afterall, he had never met Red Robin before nor has he really appeared on any sort of news outlet as the new Wayne child. Red Robin could have mistaken any black haired, blue eyed teen for him. 

He pushed the door open and tried his best to walk casually to where the coffee pot was. The hushed conversation came to a halt, and there was dead silence as Danny poured himself a cup of coffee. Then, the screeching of a chair scraping against the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tim was rushing across the kitchen towards him. 

Setting down the mug of coffee on the counter, he braced himself for the bone crushing hug that Tim swept him up in. The man actually lifted Danny off of the ground and spun him around, blubbering something incomprehensible to him. 

“Um, good morning, Tim?” Danny said, trying to sound as confused as possible as if he didn’t know that the entire Wayne family had just been discussing matters of his missing corpse. 

“You’re alive!” Tim gasped, resting his chin on the top of Danny’s head and holding him close. 

Danny patted Tim’s back stiffly. “Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked innocently.

The rest of the family was standing to come greet him, all trying to compose themselves and succeeding to varying degrees. Jason looked thoughtful as he pulled Danny out of Tim’s grasp and gave him a one-armed hug. Danny was passed around the family, giving each one a hug much to his bewilderment. Damian was the last, standing there stiffly before briefly wrapping his arms around Danny and pulling away. 

“Um, thanks for the hugs, all?” Danny said, voice rising in a questioning note.

“Red Robin told us you had been shot and…” Bruce began but trailed off.

There was a particularly pained note in Tim’s eyes as Bruce spoke, almost like a measure of shame that confused Danny. Tim wouldn’t meet his gaze, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

“Safe,” Cass quietly said, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

Danny gave her a strained smile. “Yeah, I’m safe. I just had to blow off some steam yesterday. I got back sometime early this morning. I–uh–I obviously didn’t get shot.” 

There was silence, a ripple of confusion and silent communication passing through the Waynes. He shifted uncomfortably and met Cass’ gaze. She seemed somber but thoughtful, he got the sense she was quietly asking, Are you really okay? 

“Where did–” Danny began then stopped as everyone’s eyes snapped to look at him. He cleared his throat and stepped back a bit. “Where did, uh, Red Robin, you said? Where did he say I got shot?”

Dick was the one to answer in a low voice, “In the chest–the heart, maybe.”

Danny hooked a hand around the collar of his shirt and tugged it down. There was nothing to indicate he had been shot the night before, so maybe it would soothe his adopted family’s nerves to see he wasn’t hiding any injury. 

“But–” Tim said, voice wavering and halting. “I saw–there was–video.” 

Shit. Video? Why hadn’t he considered that. Of course Batman’s protege would be wired into some sort of surveillance system. What was he going to say in response to that ? Danny was careful to not show his bit of panic on his face, instead schooling his expression and raising a brow. “I’m probably not the only lazily dressed black-haired, blue-eyed teen in Gotham.”

Tim didn’t seem particularly comforted by that. Dick put a hand on Tim’s shoulder and pulled him aside, whispering quietly enough that Danny shouldn’t be able to hear if he were a normal human, “We’ll look into this later.” 

Of course they weren’t going to drop this. 

Danny’s secret was so fucked. 

They’d all know he was some half-ghost freak. 

He plastered a fake smile on his face to hide the dread forming inside. “But if you all are done being weird about something that did not happen, I have coffee to drink.” He grabbed his mug of coffee from the counter and walked backwards a few steps, waiting for them to protest, then turned and hurried out. 

Danny did not run away from his adopted family in the kitchen, thank you. It was just walking as fast as he could without spilling his coffee. That’s all it was. Retreating to the garage where he could clear his mind working on figuring out the mystery of shrinking the thermos was a tactical decision to avoid suspicion and definitely not to avoid the uncomfortable feelings that had begun to crop up.

He slipped into the garage and settled in amongst the scattered schematics and half-built weapons and inventions. Duke was constantly bothering him about the clutter of his work area, but the messiness had its place. He had never been a very organized person, and trying to give order to the mess in his head was never successful. He was able to think better amongst chaos. 

Danny took a long sip from his coffee before setting the mug down in favor of the blueprint of the Fenton Thermos. He had spent ages staring at the specifications of this damned device, trying to unravel how his parents had made it in the first place. It still baffled him that a storage container shaped like a soup thermos was what was stumping him and not the literal portal to hell. 

Before he could get too engrossed in his work and thoughts, the creaking of the door to the garage opening caught his attention. His head snapped up and over to see who it was, but he relaxed slightly when seeing it was just Jason.

Then, he tensed again. There was no way Jason wasn’t going to talk to him about the maybe being shot situation. 

Danny gave a half-hearted salute in Jason’s direction, rolling up the blueprint and setting it aside. Jason didn’t say anything as he pulled up a crate next to Danny to sit on. 

The silence was choking.

Danny cleared his throat. “Did you need somethi–”

“You got shot.” Jason cut him off. A statement and not a question.

He bit his lip and shook his head but couldn’t trust his voice to remain firm if he voiced his dissent. 

“That was you that Red Robin found.” Jason said, head bowed slightly forward, a curtain of hair shrouding his eyes from Danny’s view. 

What could Danny say to dissuade Jason? He seemed pretty set on this and much less prone to the uncertainty that had plagued the others. Maybe the rest of the Waynes didn’t want to admit that things weren’t adding up and that Danny being shot made the most sense. Or maybe, they just didn’t want to push Danny on it and risk pushing him away entirely. He knew they were all smart–scary smart, actually–but half-ghost was a leap of logic most people didn’t make. They wouldn’t figure anything out without Danny’s confirmation, he was certain of that.

But Jason was different.

Jason was like him. They had both died.

Sure, Jason was more like a zombie or revenant rather than a ghost. But they were similar in a strange sort of way. Dying was weird like that. It brought people together, Danny morbidly thought.

Maybe Jason, of all the Waynes, would understand.

“Yeah.” Danny eventually admitted.

Jason looked up, brow furrowed and eyes brimming with concern. “How are you…” 

“Alive?” Danny finished for him.

He nodded.

“I’m not.”

Danny let that sink in for Jason, watching his face for any hint of reacting poorly to this knowledge. Instead of anger or fear or disgust, there was just sadness. The sort of sadness so deep and raw that it made Danny uncomfortably aware of the sadness that he was trying to ignore within himself.

“We shouldn’t have let you run off.” Jason said, voice scratchy as if pushing down emotion, “We should have–”

“I didn’t die last night .” Danny said, cutting him off. “I’m… not exactly like you, but I’ve died before. Two years and two months ago.”

“How?”

Something in Danny’s core flared up. An anger that threatened to spill out of him and lash out at Jason. It was an instinctual response, he figured. Another way the ghost side of him reared its ugly head. He cringed, but reigned the anger in and tried to smooth it over. This was Jason. He wasn’t asking to be rude or to hurt him–he just wanted to understand.

“My parents… they made a portal. It didn’t work at first.” He explained. “I went in to take a picture, tripped, and… it turned on.”

“With you inside.” 

Danny nodded. “I died–but not really? It’s hard to wrap my head around but something about the electricity killing me and the ectoplasm keeping me alive. So now I’m in a weird sort of quantum state where, like, I’m both and neither and one or the other depending on when you look at me.”

Jason frowned, obviously not getting it.

“I don’t understand it, so I doubt you’ll get it anymore than I do.” Danny said with a shrug. “The ghosts call me a ‘halfa’–half a ghost, half a human.” 

“I thought that my relationship with death was complicated.” Jason muttered. He reached over and placed a hand on top of Danny’s head, much to Danny’s chagrin. “Guess I’m not the only undead freak in the family.”

“Nope.” Danny said, popping the ‘p’. He swatted away Jason’s hand. 

Jason shook his head. “And let me guess–you don’t want the rest of the family to know.”

“They–they wouldn’t get it.” Danny tried weakly.

At that, Jason just gave Danny a look . The sort of older sibling look that Jazz would give him where she thought he was being ridiculous but would leave him to think the way he did. It made his core ache for something he couldn’t have anymore. Jazz was gone and she wouldn’t ever come back. 

Jason stood, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, and looked down at Danny. “I know a thing or two about keeping secrets from B and the others.” He said, then held out one of his pinkies. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

Danny linked pinkies with Jason for a brief moment. Satisfied by that, Jason nodded his head, and turned to go. He watched the retreating form of his adopted brother and exhaled a sigh of relief when the man had exited the garage.

That had gone over better than he hoped. One of the Wayne family was now in on the secret. Kinda. Jason still didn’t know about Phantom, but he didn’t need to. No one had to know about Phantom–Gotham didn’t need or want his ghost half. 

But, there had been something rather exhilarating about helping out without relying on his powers. He had been able to help that cashier not because he was half ghost, but just because he was himself. Fenton was able to do something good with himself and make a difference. 

Danny looked down at his hands, bare but calloused from working with tools and metal. Getting shot and falling off a building hadn’t been ideal, but it had turned out alright. Hadn’t it?

He…

He wasn’t sure what happened after slipping from the roof. 

His memory after that moment was blank. Like with Johnny. Like with turning on the portal. He had only come back to his senses a few hours later, standing in his bedroom at Wayne manor in different clothes. His bathroom waste bin was full of ash and his bloodied clothes missing, so he guessed that he destroyed them while blacked out. 

Something was wrong with him. Very wrong with him.

Danny clenched his fists. 

Something may be wrong with him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to help still. And, Gotham may not want Phantom, a ghost, to help it, but that didn’t mean Fenton had to sit on the sidelines. No, Danny was determined to do something.

Gotham had a plethora of powerless black-haired masked vigilantes. 

What was one more added to the mix?

Chapter Text

Part II. Orpheus

Danny avoided visiting the Ghost Zone for a few days to avoid any suspicion following what he had begun to dub as “the Red Robin incident”. Even with suspicion deflected from the reality of events due to his lack of injury, the Wayne family still seemed on edge. They were all looking for any excuse to spend time with Danny, which wasn’t bad. It just was very odd for Danny to have someone–multiple someones–go out of their way to include him and enjoy his presence. He’d only really had that sense of camaraderie before with Sam and Tucker.

A week following the Red Robin incident, he was able to make some time to disappear into the Ghost Zone. Queen Dora had a seamstress that she had given him open access to, and Danny was going to take advantage of that offer to get a costume commissioned for his new vigilante persona. Despite having been a sort of vigilante for over two years, that word still rolled off his tongue oddly. After being roped into a great feast by Dora, which he insisted he did not have time for, Danny was finally leaving the Ghost Zone with his new costume in hand.

Returning through the closet portal, he ducked into his bathroom and transformed back into his human form. Quickly, he changed into the new costume, eager to get a look at how it turned out. Dora’s seamstress had insisted her craft was so perfected, he need not even try it on. The costume, by request, was simple and mostly in tones of black, white, and gray. The seamstress had added some blue lining for a pop of color that Danny wasn’t sure was necessary, but could admit looked good. There was a sturdy belt to hook on various tools and a pouch on his thigh. Unlike the domino masks of most of Gotham’s vigilantes, the mask that Danny had received covered the bottom half of his face. 

All in all, it was distinct enough from his hazmat suit to not be connected with Phantom and simple enough to not draw too much attention like a bat suit might. 

Staring at himself in the mirror, Danny exhaled.

Was he really going to do this? Run around the streets of Gotham without any powers to back him up? 

He shook his head to clear himself of the second-guessing thoughts. 

Danny had made his decision– no, Orpheus had made a decision.

He had considered names for a long time over the week since the Red Robin incident, before settling on Orpheus. It was a combination of Sam’s and Pandora’s influence that had gotten Danny into ancient Greek mythology, but he would admit to finding some of the stories and cults fascinating. The myth of Orpheus and his resulting infamy and cult-like following was one that oddly resonated with Danny.

Orpheus, who had gone into the underworld, failed, and emerged still lauded as a hero by those who would look to him for guidance on their own journeys into the underworld at the end of life. Danny… felt similarly often. Time and time again, Danny stumbled and failed and fell flat on his ass. But his friends and Amity Park still looked to him for guidance and for comfort. They wanted to know that at the end of life, that there was mercy and justice and purpose. 

He could put on a brave face and become that justice as Orpheus. 

Orpheus would help people where Fenton couldn’t–even where Phantom couldn’t. And there was no time like the present. A quick glance at his phone told him it was a bit past 1 AM. Tomorrow was a Saturday morning, so there was no school to be concerned over. Careful, he left his bathroom and moved over to the bedroom window. This would be the only time he used his powers as Orpheus–getting in and out of Wayne manor without being seen. He knew there were cameras on the grounds, so it was important that he use his invisibility to go undetected in his expeditions into Gotham as Orpheus. Bruce and the others would flip if they knew what Danny was planning on getting up to in the small hours of the night.

Danny, clad in his new costume, headed out of Wayne Manor and into the night. After a bit of debate, he made his way towards Park Row–better known colloquially as Crime Alley. It was a short flight, the fall chill pricking pleasantly at his skin as he flew over the streets of Gotham. Upon arriving, he alleyway, checked for any observers, and faded back into visibility. 

For a moment he hesitated. He wasn’t a stranger to patrolling Amity Park as Phantom, but this was different. The beginning of something new–helping on a small scale rather than focusing on any big picture threat. He steadied himself, taking a deep breath, and exited the alley. 

Sticking to the shadows of the streets, Danny began his life as Orpheus. He was surprised how little attention people paid him, despite the manner of dress he wore. Their eyes would linger, then dart away as soon as they realized that Danny had noticed the attention. The wariness was not unexpected–Orpheus was new on these streets, a wildcard for Gotham to observe until it became apparent what side he fell on. The anticipation of making it clear what he stood for buzzed inside him.

After slinking through the shadowed streets for some time, Danny saw two individuals up ahead talking on a street corner, holding hands. At a first glance, there was nothing remarkable, but his core thrummed oddly and bid him look again. A tall, broad-shouldered man and a petite woman were discussing something with great intensity. They both looked to barely be able to pass for 20, and he noticed that they weren’t holding hands like he first thought. The man had the woman’s wrist in a vice grip.

Scowling, he approached as subtle as he could.

The man, with dark hair and pale eyes, was talking in rambling circles, begging for the woman–Honey–to come back with him. She insisted again and again that they were done, and she didn’t want to see him, but the man wasn’t letting go of her. Honey was trying to pull away without causing a scene to no avail. 

“C’mon Hal, please don’t be like this.” The woman begged. 

He glowered down in response. “Like what?” 

“Like a mindless brute, taking what you want and no concern as to what I want!” She snapped.

That hadn’t been a good response. The man speaking with her, Hal, twisted her arm behind her back, and she cried out in pain.

Danny had seen enough. “I think maybe you should step away and reconsider.” He called out, voice firm and clear in the night. 

The pair froze and looked at him–Hal with barely contained rage and Honey with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

“Oh what is this some vigilante crap?” Hal complained. “Keep on moving, this has nothing to do with you.”

Danny ignored him, making eye contact with the woman. He could tell why she was named Honey–her eyes were nearly the color of liquid gold. A bit unnaturally so. Briefly he wondered if she was a meta, but brushed it off as something that didn’t matter. “Do you need help?” He asked her softly.

She nodded, afraid to speak.

Without needing to hear more, Danny dashed forward. Hal reached into his pocket, producing a knife, and tried to hold it to Honey’s throat threateningly. Before he could finish the gesture, Danny had grabbed his wrist in a reversal of fortune. The other man reversed the grip on the dagger to try to swipe at Danny’s forearm. It nicked Danny’s skin, a bit of blood welling up, but he couldn’t even feel the sting past the adrenaline rushing through him.

Danny brought his knee up to impact with the man’s groin, and Hal staggered back. His grip on Honey loosened, so Danny gently grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her behind him. She made a surprised, but not hurt, noise and let herself be moved. He was keeping an eye on the woman out of the corner of his vision, and she was slowly backing off to get out of the way. The look in her eye was not panic or fear, though, but calculating and looking for some way to help.

Hal dropped low and moved as if to tackle Danny in a display of pure force and strength. Sure, Danny looked a bit small and scrawny, but he was much stronger than the average person. He could have easily stood his ground if he wanted, but instead he twisted out of the way and let Hal’s momentum pitch himself forward without a target to impact.

Before the man fell flat on his face, Danny stepped in to grab him by his collar and hoist him up. “This isn’t really much of a fight.” He said, letting a touch of fake boredom leak through. “Why don’t you just head on your way and leave the lady and I alone?”

Hal growled, an obvious indication that he would not be rolling over and giving up, but before he could try to free himself from Danny’s grasp, something impacted his head. It was the woman Honey, holding a loose brick. She looked just as shocked as Hal did as the man went limp, unconscious.

Danny lowered the unconscious body closer to the ground then dropped him. He glanced at Honey. “Do you want the cops to come pick him up?” He asked.

She frowned. “No point in it. They don’t do anything to help domestic violence besides suggesting couple’s therapy.“

That statement wasn’t particularly surprising to Danny, but it still was quite sad. 

“Do you have somewhere to go that he can’t find you right away?”

Honey nodded and hummed, threading fingers through her blonde hair. “I got a new place with a couple of other girls that he doesn’t know about. I don’t know why I agreed to speak with Hal tonight. He seemed so sorry…” 

“We should get you out of here before he wakes up.” Danny said. “Do you want an escort home?”

She shook her head. “Some of the girls should be close by. I’ll just send them a text and meet up to walk home with them.”

“You best be on your way. I’ll stay with him until he wakes up–might be a prick, but still don’t want him to get mugged or something.” Danny nudged Hal’s unconscious body with his foot as he spoke, vaguely wondering how long that would be. 

A bit of surprise crossed Honey’s expression, and that morphed into a thoughtful look. After a brief pause, she exhaled in a light chuckle and moved forward to ruffle Danny’s hair in a way reminiscent of the Waynes. “Don’t know who you are, but I don’t really care, ya know? I can tell you’re a good kid.” 

His chest tightened at the small bit of praise and he ducked his head, before mumbling, “Orpheus.” 

“That’s a hero name if I’ve ever heard one,” Honey remarked, her voice joking but warm. “I’ll let the other girls on the streets know they can trust you if they need help–don’t let me regret that, alright?” 

Behind his mask, Danny smiled. “I’m just here to help where I can. You won’t regret a thing.” 

Honey stepped back and looked him up and down, committing her savior to memory before she nodded. She looked as if she was going to leave before she paused a moment, realizing something. “I’d like to think I had it handled, but I’m not ashamed to accept help when it’s offered. So, thank you, Orpheus.” 

For the rest of that weekend, Danny spent as much of the night out on the streets of Gotham that he thought he reasonably could. Every morning when he crept back into his room to flop on his bed, he thanked the small miracle that his half-ghost nature meant he could operate on less sleep than a full human. It wasn’t until late Monday night into the early hours of Tuesday that his small routine was disrupted. 

He was sitting on the edge of the rooftop of a low apartment building, taking a much needed break after intervening in various petty crimes throughout the night when he felt a pressure in the back of his throat not too dissimilar to his ghost sense. The first thought that jolted through his mind was that Jason was somehow nearby–it was the same ‘not quite a ghost but touched by death’ feeling he could sense. Only this was far more potent than it was with Jason.

Not to mention the rage and vitriol that curled around the edges of his senses with the not-ghost sense. 

This wasn’t Jason. 

He jolted to his feet and spun around the moment before there was the click of a gun being taken off of safety. Behind him, there was a figure that briefly registered surprise at his early reaction in a subtle tensing of their shoulder. It wasn’t hard to identify the figure immediately.

Red Hood.

Danny was wary of the anti-hero. Vigilante? He wasn’t quite sure. Before starting work as Orpheus he was more inclined to view Red Hood through the lens of an anti-hero rebel without a cause, but after having his boots on the ground in Crime Alley and hearing the gossip, it seemed that Red Hood did take genuine care in his work with common folk. Maybe his methods left much to be desired, but Red Hood definitely wasn’t the unhinged criminal that Gotham media might want you to believe.

Wary but not wanting to bolt and risk a chase, Danny held his hands up in a surrendering gesture to show he was unarmed. He could never truly be unarmed when his body was a living (dying? half-living?) weapon, but Red Hood didn’t know that about Orpheus. 

“Who. Are. You.” Red Hood ground out, voice low and with a hint of a growl. It wasn’t a question, but a demand.

“Call me Orpheus. I’m not here to get in your way or cause any problems.” Danny responded slowly.

“You’re a new, unknown variable on my turf. I’ll be the one to decide if you’re not in my way.” 

Danny tilted his head and risked a bit of snark by saying, “Well, if you’re going to shoot me, can we get this over with?”

A long pause.

“Not going to shoot you.” Red Hood finally saide, then clicked the safety back on his gun. He lowered his gun slightly, but didn’t put it away. “Needed to see how you’d react.” 

He hummed. “I know better than to get into a fight with Red Hood.” 

“Don’t think you’d win?” 

“Nah, I just think the people in this part of town would fucking hate me after.” 

Red Hood, much to Danny’s surprise, laughed at that. It was restrained and breathy, but a show of genuine amusement. “Smart kid. You listen to them.”

“Can’t help someone if you don’t listen to what’s wrong.” He said with a shrug. 

The other vigilante–and Danny was sure it was vigilante rather than criminal or anti-hero–regarded him for a few moments before giving a single nod. “You do fine work. The working girls already trust you.”

“Just fine?” Danny asked.

“Don’t push it.” Red Hood said, and Danny imagined there was a glare underneath that helmet. The vigilante stepped forward and pulled something out of his pocket with his free hand. Holding out a post-it note, he continued, “Stay out of my way. But just in case, get a burner phone–something cheap.” 

Danny took the post-it note and glanced down to see that there was a phone number scrawled on it. It was unfamiliar besides the obvious Gotham area code. When he looked back up, Red Hood was already gone. 

Well.

That had gone pretty good, all things considered. 

He let out a sigh of relief and pocketed the post-it note with Red Hood’s phone number. It was getting rather late, and Danny did have school in the morning, so he figured he might as well make his way back to Wayne Manor after that encounter. He stopped by a convenience store on the corner and picked up the cheapest phone and data plan he could find. Everytime the door opened and rung the bell, Danny found himself tensing slightly and glancing over to see who had entered. It seemed like he had picked up a new nervous habit after the Red Robin incident.

Not wanting to dwell on that too deeply, he paid for the cheap flip phone and made quick work of activating it. Danny entered Red Hood into the contacts and messaged the other vigilante to give him the new number. 

Direct Message: RH to You

You: its orpheus

RH: k.

With that, he slipped into a dark alley and turned invisible so that he could fly back to Wayne Manor. He spent the flight debating whether to keep the phone on silent with his Orpheus costume intangibly in his wall or to keep the phone on him in case Red Hood needed to get ahold of him. The problem with the second option was that if any of the Waynes noticed, they would definitely question why he had a second, shittier phone. It’d definitely be suspicious. For the time being, Danny figured that Red Hood wouldn’t need to get in touch with him for anything time sensitive and decided to keep the phone with his costume when he wasn’t using it. 

Arriving back in his bedroom, he found that he wasn’t tired enough to just fall in bed like he usually was. The meeting with Red Hood had him buzzing with an odd sort of energy. Or was it anxiety? Regardless of the cause of his restlessness, he stripped and changed into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee. Danny decided he’d sneak down to the kitchen to grab some snacks from the pantry. 

A quick check of the time showed it was well after 3 A.M., so he was careful to creep along the staircase as silently as he could. He didn’t want to wake anyone up at this time. Slipping into the kitchen, though, he was surprised to see Damian already standing in the walk-in pantry. A small noise of surprised slipped past his lips before he could stop it, and Damian jerked backwards, head snapping to the side to look in his direction.

For a tense moment, they stared at each other. 

Eventually, Damian spoke, “We haven’t had many astronomy lessons since classes started.” 

Danny blinked and thought back, realizing that Damian was right. “Yeah, we haven’t.” A thought briefly flitted through his mind wondering if he was a bad adopted older brother for that. He shook it away.

“I was considering joining the Astronomy Club at school.” Damian said carefully, in that tone of voice where he was pretending to be unaffected and detached but really did care about something. “Maybe you would like to join as well.”

Oh . Damian was reaching out to him in his own, stilted way. This wasn’t just an off-handed suggestion, Danny realized, but a genuine attempt for connection. He’d be an ass to say no. So, despite wondering how he’d make time for it with his new Orpheus responsibilities, Danny nodded and said, “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

Damian ducked his head to hide the pleased smile that threatened his neutral expression. 

“You know,” Danny began, “One of my favorite constellations has some pretty good viewing this time of year. I could show it to you?”

“You may,” Damian agreed and stepped out of the pantry to stand near Danny. “What is it called?”

“Cepheus.” 

Chapter Text

The next few days passed easily, all things considered. Learning how to juggle his responsibilities as Orpheus was easier than the learning curve with Phantom, Danny discovered. He had more control over when and where he put on his hero persona, unlike as Phantom where he was victim to the whims of ghosts. The young woman from the other night, Honey, had become a sort of friend to Orpheus. She sought him out when he was around Crime Alley and let him know about the going ons of the streets. Her information was surprisingly thorough and insightful.

Outside of Orpheus, school was dull with the exception of joining the astronomy club with Damian. He wouldn’t say he was growing close to any of the other students in the club, but he had to admit it was fun to talk about his hobby with other enthusiasts. He’d have to make the time to go on some of the trips outside the city with the club. Either that or think of a good excuse as to why he couldn’t come, but Damian was keen enough to see through any excuses Danny could think of.

When he wasn’t busy with being Orpheus or school, Danny went on short trips into the Ghost Zone to explore. He couldn’t get very far in the time he allowed himself, but it was still interesting to map out the Ghost Zone around his closet portal.

It was after one of those little journeys into the Ghost Zone while he was doing homework that Danny got a call. Not just any call–one on the burner phone he had picked up for Orpheus. He jumped at the noise and scrambled to pull it out from where it was in his pocket. The narrow screen on the front of the flip phone showed that it was Honey calling. Danny had given her his number in case of emergency.

His stomach dropped.

He answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear. “H-hello?” He asked uncertainly.

“Orpheus, I think– shit– I think Hal found out where I live. He–he was talking nonsense on the phone and… Orpheus, I’m scared.” Her voice was a tight but soft whisper, as if she was trying to keep from being overheard.

“Fuck, uh, I’ll be right there. Okay, Honey? Hang in there.”

Before he could ask any other details, the call cut out. Danny snapped the phone shut and all but fell out of bed in a rush to grab his costume from inside the wall. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, he couldn’t change and get out of Wayne Manor fast enough. He couldn’t get to Honey fast enough. 

No. Danny steeled his determination as he leaned out the window. I’m fast enough, he thought, although the sentiment leaned closer to “I’m enough”. Invisibly, he shot off into the night. The flight wasn’t long on a regular night, but he must have cut that time in half on his way to Honey. 

He landed in the alley around the corner from her new apartment, crunching the street a bit underneath himself with the force of momentum as he didn’t slow. A quick check around later, he flickered back to visibility and darted out onto the street. A few passerbys stared at him with open surprise at his sudden appearance and tense aura, but he ignored them to make his way to the building he knew Honey was in trouble in. 

The front door of the building hung open awkwardly in a way that Danny could tell it had been damaged while being forced open. Swearing mentally, he hurried inside and up the staircase. Shit , was Honey on the third or fourth floor? Before Danny could try to answer that question for himself, angry but fearful shouting caught his attention.

“Don’t– don’t come any closer!”

That was Honey. He wasn’t too late, but judging from her fear he had to be quick to intervene. Danny found her apartment on the third floor, door already wide open and inviting him in.

He burst in, tense and ready for a fight. “Get the hell away from her, or I’ll show you what happens when–” 

His line of thought was cut off by the sudden sense of wrongness that hit him. It took a quick deep breath to keep from stumbling back at the sensation, and his gaze fell on Honey’s ex, Hal. Danny knew it was him and it looked like him, yet… 

His eyes were vacant. 

Danny didn’t have much time to consider that as the empty stare that made his skin crawl focused on him, and Hal moved forward in a lumbering lunge. The man impacted against Danny, who only shifted back with the weight of the blow. After fighting ghosts for two years, that sort of hit was not even close to knocking him off his feet. Hal’s arms were wrapped around his midsection though, which presented a problem without using any powers. 

Bringing his elbow down on Hal’s head with a crack , Danny would expect the man to drop his arms and recoil in pain. There wasn’t even a grunt of acknowledgement though, as if the feeling didn’t register. 

“Okay buddy, I’m not really a hugger,” Danny quipped as he hooked a leg around Hal’s and pulled to disrupt his balance at the same time he yanked one of his arms back. 

Freeing himself, Danny reversed their positions and pulled Hal into a headlock. He wasn’t expecting to be bit, however, and hissed in pain. Honey, crouched behind a couch across the room, also hissed in sympathy. She called out, “Should I like, call the police now?”

“What do you mean you haven’t called the police?” Danny asked, voice raised in exasperation. Hal thrashed in his grasp, having let go of the bite but not making any noise or attempt to speak.

She shrugged. “I don’t know what laws their are about vigilantes!” She defended herself. “I’d rather have your help than theirs!” 

“Well, like, unless you want me to snap his neck–which is a joke, I’m not doing that–then, uh, yeah!” Danny said.

Honey gave him a thumbs up and pulled out her phone, still remaining crouched low to the ground as she dialed 911. 

Before she could complete the call, there was the low thunk of something hitting glass. Danny’s gaze snapped to the window, and he blinked, surprised to see something attached to the middle of the window on the outside. Before he could react, the device exploded with enough force to shatter the glass and–

“Batman?” Danny and Honey shouted in shock at the same time?

For a brief moment, his grip on Hal loosened in his surprise. The man’s thrashing intensified and he tried to burst out of the grip. “Oh no you don’t!” Danny scowled, tightening his elbow over Hal’s throat again and pulling the larger man flush to him. 

Batman had indeed swung through the window of Honey’s apartment, followed by Spoiler and Red Robin. The sight of Red Robin had Danny shift nervously. He really hoped the vigilante wouldn’t think to recognize his voice from the incident. The three bat vigilantes were looking directly at Danny, gazes boring holes into him.

“Wellll,” Spoiler began, “I guess our target has already been caught.” 

Honey stood up with a shout, “Nuh- uh, I don’t want Bats in my living room! Things are handled, and you ruined my window.” 

The two younger vigilantes turned their heads slightly to regard her. Red Robin spoke up with an apologetic note, “We were tracking this man here.” He gestured to Hal. “Figured we’d lend a hand, but–”

“It seems you already had help.” Batman finally spoke, eyes locked on Danny. He tried his best not to wither under the intense glare.

“Yep, uh, handled. Yep.” Danny awkwardly said, keeping the unruly form of Hal locked in place. 

“ Shit is that Orpheus?” A voice crackled to life over some sort of comm that the Bats had. Red Hood.

“You know him.” Batman said flatly.

Red Robin and Spoiler shared amused looks. Honey, hands on her hips, continued to stare the trio down with as much bravado as she could muster. 

“ Must have forgotten to mention I met a new vigilante. Oops.” Red Hood said lightly. Danny got the impression that he didn’t simply forget.

“Yeah, hi, I’m Orpheus.” Danny gave a little two fingered wave without loosening his grip on Hal. Which, if the Bats were tracking Hal then that meant his weird behavior was most definitely not normal. Which worried him. “Is this like a zombie movie, ‘cause the fucker bit me.” Danny said warily. He was not in the mood to die again.

Spoiler snorted. “I like this one.”

“Thanks, but that doesn’t answer my question.” Danny gave a dry response.

“Are we just going to stand in my living room all night?” Honey complained. “I don’t think Orpheus should just be restraining H–my–the man for that long.” She stumbled over how to refer to Hal in front of the Bats.

Red Robin and Spoiler looked to Batman, some sort of silent communication passing between the trio. After a tense moment, Batman moved towards Danny. “We’ll take care of things from here.”

Danny passed Hal off to Batman, then stepped back to examine the bite on his forearm. Luckily it hadn’t gone through the thick fabric of his sleeves. He put his arm down and looked back up, speaking, “Do I really not get to know what the hell happened?”

“ Unlikely, ” Red Hood snorted over the comm’s speaker.

Batman fixed him with a steely glare again, saying nothing, then turned away. He made some sort of hand gesture to the two younger vigilantes, and they reluctantly moved to leave. 

“Wait, what about my window?” Honey complained. “My roommates are going to kill me when they get home.”

Her complaints fell on uncaring ears, and the Bats took their leave. 

She glanced back towards Danny. “Can you believe this, Orpheus?”

Sighing, he silently agreed. He couldn’t believe he just met Batman. What he could believe was the obvious dislike for Orpheus that the hero had. It figured that Danny’s vigilante persona would have to work for any sort of approval there.

There was another attempt at a movie night at Dick’s the next day. Danny was hesitant to go based on his outburst at the first one, but Duke and Damian insisted that the others wanted him there. It meant he probably wouldn’t be able to go out as Orpheus, but after the last night he was fine with that. He needed to get his mind off the sting of meeting Batman–who was most definitely not Danny’s favorite hero or anything–and being summarily dismissed.

He couldn’t get his thoughts to stop circling back around to that line of thinking, however. All through the night at Dick’s, he kept drifting back to thinking about Batman. Not even the truly horrendous argument over burger toppings that erupted when Duke suggested ordering burgers could wrench his mind out of the proverbial gutter. 

The movie was picked by Babs, who wanted to watch some newish Disney movie called Encanto. Danny was more of a horror and thriller movie fan, but he begrudgingly admitted that the movie was fun, colorful, and tugged at some heartstrings he didn’t realize were there. He wasn’t the only one either, judging by some of the sniffling he overheard. 

During the credits, Dick turned to Babs and pointed at her accusingly. “You picked that on purpose!”

Babs, amused, gave him a wry smile. “I heard the music was good, of course I picked it on purpose.”

“Oh and nothing about the themes of toxic family dynamics and impossible expectations drove that pick?” Jason snarked dryly. 

Babs put a hand to her chest in mock offense. “I’d never do such a thing.”

“Well, I think you’re cruel.” Stephanie complained from where she was tucked up into a ball on the couch. She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes, the obvious emotion the movie provoked still lingering.

“Really makes you realize how much it sucks to work your ass off for approval you probably won’t get.” Tim pointed out.

Damian opened his mouth as if to argue but snapped it shut and pulled his knees to his chest. Tim must have struck a chord.

“That’s unfair,” Dick said softly, “You know that Bruce cares–he just has trouble showing it.”

“Of course he cares ,” Duke said. “But caring doesn’t mean he doesn’t place the bar impossibly high.”

“Yeah, we all know he cares. He’s still a stoic ass” Jason elbowed Dick’s side where they sat next to each other. “Besides, you can’t tell me that you didn’t ghost write Louisa’s song.”

“Hey!” Dick shouted, grabbing a nearby pillow and smacking Jason with it. 

The bickering between the Waynes and Stephanie continued on, but Danny tuned it out to focus on his own thoughts. 

Danny really wanted Batman’s approval for Orpheus–it was something he had been avoiding directly considering, but there was no getting around it now. The worst part was, he had a sick realization in his gut that he’s always done that–always chased after approval he’d never get. The bar was raised too high for him to ever hope of getting it. Not from his parents or peers at school. Hell, not even from other ghosts. 

Danny would never be enough for anyone.

“Hey,” Babs whispered, leaning forward to whisper in Danny’s ear as he sat on the floor in front of her wheelchair. “You doing alright?”

“Mhm.” Danny intoned absently.

“It’s okay if you’re not.” She added.

“‘m okay. Don't worry about me.” 

Babs put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. He got the sense that she knew he wasn’t okay. She may not be able to tell the details of his inner turmoil, but from her gentle tone of voice and careful, guarded touch, he could tell that she knew. She knew like he now knew. He wasn’t okay.

Fenton would never be enough. Phantom would never be enough. Now, Orpheus too wouldn’t be enough. He, deep down, would always be chasing after approval that would remain forever out of arm’s reach.

Danny could never hope to be enough.

Chapter Text

Danny holed himself up in his room the following day, citing homework as a reason to avoid his adopted family. He was more or less brooding over the feelings that the movie night had dredged up, wallowing under his covers and restlessly tossing and turning in bed. Even with the lights off and the curtains drawn, he still was annoyed by how bright the room seemed to be. He could faintly hear music coming from Duke’s room, and it was grating against his ears. 

Eventually, he got tired of feeling pity for himself and dragged himself out of bed to put on his Orpheus get up. Part of him felt bad about how much time he spent as Orpheus now compared to the time he spent with his adopted family, but he dismissed the thought. He knew that he was only in the family as a favor to Batman in the first place, so it’s not like any of them truly cared. 

Danny was just… He wasn’t anything to them. 

But he could be something to the people of Gotham. 

That was the thought that powered him through the night despite the heavy weight on his chest. Skulking around the backstreets and alleys of Gotham wasn’t the most glamorous way to pass the time, but it allowed something useful to come of him. He helped where he could in small but impactful ways. He was enough of an asset in Crime Alley that his name passed between whispered lips to others who might need his help. Before last night, he’d also boasted that he’d managed to stay off of the Bats’ radars.

The night went easily enough that Danny stayed out long past his usual turn in time–late enough that some of the more ambitious cafes were starting to prepare for the day to come. He realized the time belatedly after escorting one of those early morning baristas past a particularly rowdy group of drunken individuals. The man he helped had given him a smile and a wave, wishing him a good morning that had Danny blinking in realization.

Before he could make the decision to return to Wayne Manor, he picked up the sound of footsteps pounding across a rooftop. His gaze flicked in the direction of the noise, not entirely surprised to see the figures of Red Robin and Spoiler. The female vigilante caught his eye and waved, yelling out for him to join them up top.

Danny, sighed, then began a running sprint towards the alley wall. He bounded a few feet up the shear wall until he could grab the bottom of the fire escape and hoist himself up. Spoiler gave a joking golf clap at the show of athleticism, which had Danny chuckling to himself. The Bats didn’t have to know that maybe their buddy Orpheus used some gravity defying tricks to keep up in certain regards.

Red Robin and Spoiler waited for Danny on top of the building, but moved to go right away as he approached them. “Hi to you too, I guess. No explanation as to where you’re taking me?” He asked, eyeing the bat symbols on their uniforms. He was very aware that these were Batman-trained vigilantes, and Batman very much did not seem pleased by the presence of Orpheus in Gotham.

“We gotta engage in a post patrol tradition we like to do when we’re all out in spandex and body armor far longer than any one person should be.” Spoiler explained with a wave of her hand, head tilting back to catch Danny’s eye.

“So you stretch out your long nights even longer so you… what? Die the next day?” Danny asked with a fair bit of skepticism, but he didn’t make any attempt to break away from following the two Bats.

“Pretty much,” Red Robin snorted, “Considering we’re taking you to the most heart-clogging burger place in the city.” 

His stomach growled at hearing that. He really could go for a greasy, hearty meal after the day of moping he’d had. “I’ll follow strangers anywhere if it involves burgers.” He admitted in a joke.

“That’s what we like to hear.” Spoiler grinned. “Just be sure to keep up now.”

Danny narrowed his eyes playfully. “Was that a challenge?”

“Could have been.” Red Robin said with a smirk.

With that, the trio of vigilantes picked up the pace running across Gotham’s rooftops. Red Robin and Spoiler had grapples that they used to jump over the gaps between buildings, but Danny had not yet acquired that kind of hardware to use as Orpheus. Good thing that gravity didn’t mean much to him–all he had to do was judge the distance between buildings, give himself a boost halfway over, and do a convincing enough stumble when landing on the other side. 

There was something exhilarating about leaping over the alleyways and streets below with no equipment to save him from dropping. He would pretend, for a moment, that he was a regular human and any fall from that height would be deadly. The wind whipped across his face and stung tears into the corner of his eyes. There was that second where his gut would drop as his body realized he was falling–that second before the muscle memory of being a halfa would kick in and threaten to expose him. That second of adrenaline was becoming one of his favorite sensations.

Living life on the edge was so much more exciting when he pretended to play human.

Red Robin and Spoiler took Danny closer to the downtown area of Gotham, but still a bit aways from where the buildings became towering skyscrapers. He did a doubletake when he noticed that they were rapidly approaching a blinking neon sign screaming “BAT BURGER”. Surely the Bats didn’t actually frequent the tourist trap burger place? The grin on Spoiler’s face when she noticed him looking confused told him otherwise, however. 

The three descended from the rooftops and hopped down into a brightly lit alley. There was actually a public side entrance to the restaurant in the alley, which Danny questioned for all of two seconds before figuring it must be part of the mystique that appealed to the overdramatic vigilantes. Neither Red Robin nor Spoiler made any moves to remove their masks or look less like they jumped out of a comic book before entering, so Danny cautiously followed behind. Upon entering the restaurant, they were greeted by an over enthusiastic cook who bellowed out a welcome to his favorite heroes. 

“Oh, you say that no matter which of us comes in here!” Spoiler complained light-heartedly. 

“That’s because you’re all my favorites.” The man said, empathically shaking a spatula in their direction that shook off bits of grease. “Now, who is this new baby bat you have with you?”

“Not a Bat,” Danny said quickly, glancing at Red Robin and Spoiler to see if they took offense to the fry cook’s assumption. The pair looked relaxed and easy-going. No offense taken then, Danny noted. “You can call me Orpheus.”

With that, the man was satisfied and went about asking Red Robin and Spoiler for their orders. When he got to asking for Danny’s order, Red Robin cut in, saying to get a classic combo. Not one to turn his nose up at a food recommendation, Danny nodded in agreement, and soon enough the three had paper bags laden with burgers, fries, and plenty of grease. They didn’t end up eating in the diner with the other patrons looking at them wide-eyed, but rather retreated back to the roof tops to sit there and enjoy the early morning breeze and impending sunrise.

Danny asked the pair for a spare domino mask to cover the upper half of his face when he ate, which Red Robin handed over without any fuss. Digging in to the delightfully greasy bag of food, he was surprised to find that there was a plastic-wrapped toy of some sort. Plucking it out, he turned it over to see it was a palm-sized figure of Batman in his first costume.

Huh.

Gingerly, Danny removed the figurine from its plastic wrapping and examined it clsoer. It was typical, cheap quality he’d expect as an extra from a burger joint, but had a charming and stylized quality to it. The Batman figure had a scowl pulling down its lips–an all-in-all iconic look for the vigilante. 

Holding the figure dredged up the memories of watching that movie with his adopted siblings. He had come out here tonight to throw himself into vigilante work and forget about the awful, terrible feeling of Batman disapproving of Orpheus. It was smacking him in the face now, though–the universe waving its arms and screaming ‘Hey remember when you felt like shit?’

Suddenly noticing the figure in his hand, Spoiler gasped and leaned forward. “Oh! That’s a rare one! All of the classic combos come with Gotham vigilante figures, and Nightwing is trying to collect them all–he’s missing that one.” 

Danny scowled and held it out of Spoiler’s grabbing range. “He’ll have to trade me for it himself.”

“Don’t worry, Orpheus,” Red Robin said with a knowing smile. “Batman has a track record of adopting or pseudo-adopting pretty much every young vigilante and vigilante wanna be that crosses his path.”

“Eh?” Danny’s face flushed red. “That’s not what I was thinking about–I have somewhere to stay. I don’t need adopting .”

“But you want his approval?” Red Robin stated more than asked.

“I don’t need anyone’s approval, thank you very much.” Danny scoffed. 

Spoiler elbowed him. “Need is different from want.”

Danny jumped to his feet, slipping the figurine into his back pocket. “This was nice and all, but it’s way too late to deal with this sort of joint harassment.” He pulled his lower face mask back over his nose, then removed the borrowed domino mask and tossed it back to Red Robin.

The two vigilantes verbally stumbled over each other to try to get Danny to stay a bit longer, but he tuned them out and gave a two finger wave. Then, he ran towards the opposite edge of the rooftop and flung himself off it and towards the alley below. He could hear Red Robin and Spoiler shouting after him, alarmed. By the time they were looking over the edge, Danny had turned invisible and was flying off towards Wayne Manor.

Danny didn’t drag himself out of bed until well into the afternoon hours of the day, skipping both breakfast and lunch when Alfred came knocking on his door with a gentle inquiry. The butler had given a light quip about a long night and a well-deserved lazy Sunday that put him a bit on edge, wondering if Alfred clued into more than he let on. Eventually, Danny figured he couldn’t keep snoozing his alarm and got ready for the day. Or, as ready as one could be in Casper the Friendly Ghost pajamas–a gag gift from Tucker for his 15th birthday. 

With a yawn, Danny headed down to the garage to put some work in on his neglected projects. He didn’t have any homework not yet finished, so it seemed a fine enough way to pass his time and keep himself from falling back asleep. Danny was so lucky being a halfa let him run on less sleep for longer than a human, otherwise he’d feel like death warmed over considering he hadn’t gotten to sleep until well past sunrise. 

He considered the options of projects to work with before eventually pulling the schematics for the Fenton Thermos back out. Not much progress had been made on tinkering with that particular invention, but maybe his tired brain could put pieces together his awake brain couldn’t. Danny settled in to his spot on the floor in the corner of the garage, surrounded by tools and bits of scrap metal and glowing vials of ectoplasm.

Before he could really engross himself in the work, the sound of the door to the house opening caught his attention. Not wanting to broadcast that he could hear such a slight noise, Danny didn’t turn until a voice called out. Bruce, greeting him in a warm and pleasant tone.

They hadn’t talked much since the Red Robin incident, despite Bruce obviously wanting to reach out but floundering on how. Danny hadn’t been quite sure on how to make that connection, either, especially amidst Orpheus responsibilities. So, the two had more or less quietly ignored each other in an awkward ‘we should talk, but we don’t want that talk’ way. 

Danny gave a little wave to let Bruce know that he had heard him but didn’t look up from the schematics he was pouring over for the millionth time, trying to decipher the genius behind his parents’ work. 

“Do you mind if I join you for a chat?” Bruce asked, pulling up an empty bucket to sit on near Danny.

He shrugged in response. “Depends on what kind of chat .” 

“I just wanted to ask how you were doing, Danny.” Bruce said gently.

Resisting the urge to scowl, he replied, “I’m fine.” 

Bruce drummed his fingers on the empty bucket, a noise impossibly loud and echoing in the quiet of the garage. “I want to know how you’re really doing,” he said after a long moment of consideration. “Not just today, but in general. We haven’t… talked about things much, but I lost my parents when I was a few years younger than you.”

“Oh,” Danny intoned. That’s what this was about. His grip on the blueprints tightened.

“They were killed in front of me in a senseless act of violence,” Bruce admitted with no small amount of pain. That surprised Danny–it happened so long ago, yet Bruce was speaking with a raw, fresh pain.  

Did things truly never get better? He wondered gloomily.

His adopted father continued when Danny didn’t respond. “I was angry for a long time–at anything and everything there was to be angry at. I was angry at the man that killed my parents and my parents for leaving me and at all of Gotham for gawking as I stood surrounded by this storm.”

“Why were you angry?” Danny asked in a small voice. He knew why, but he needed to hear someone else say it to settle the tightness in his chest.

Bruce considered, observing Danny with a thoughtful look. “It was easy. Or, easier. To feel that much grief and pain and loss . The knowing that my parents weren’t coming back, and there was nothing that I could do… Feeling all of that hurt more than anything. Instead of waking up and crying everyday, I woke up and wrapped those emotions in a layer of anger to protect myself from them.” 

Danny bit his lip. Hearing that from someone else, validating his own anger and rage was… good? Maybe. It was hard to really place any terms relating to enjoyment on hearing that there were other people in the world that hurt as much as he did. It wasn’t like he was happy that Bruce had also gone through such a wretched experience, but rather that the fact he wasn’t alone was comforting–like stars in a constellation, light years away and still drawing shared comfort from the beauty they can create together.

“I don’t have anything to be angry at.” Danny admitted. “The ghost that killed my family and a lot of Casper High is gone. Jazz made sure of that.”

“I know, but that doesn’t make the feelings go away any faster. It just directs them to places less productive.”

Danny frowned. “I have an outlet for it.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that, glancing around the garage with a keen eye. “Working here?” 

“Yeah.” The lie came easy to Danny, just as so many other lies have since he stepped into that portal at the age of 14. He did enjoy working on recreating and adjusting his parents’ inventions, but he wouldn’t quite call it an outlet for misplaced aggression. No, that would have to go to his vigilantism as Orpheus if Danny was being honest with himself. “Working in the garage on all this makes me feel closer to my parents.”

“I’m glad,” Bruce said with a fond smile that turned Danny’s gut in guilt. His adopted father stood and clapped a hand on Danny’s shoulder, announcing that he’d leave him to his work and get out of his hair. 

Danny tried to return the small smile, but wasn’t sure he quite succeeded with everything that was coiling and twisting in him painfully. This conversation should have been nice, but it was too much too fast. 

Between the blackouts, the getting shot, being Orpheus, getting rejected from Batman, and now this… 

Danny exhaled when Bruce left.

He was a bit overwhelmed. He needed to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. 

Well, he had just admitted to himself that vigilantism was his outlet for all these ugly feelings. There was no point in denying that he wasn’t being entirely selfless going out as Orpheus. He hadn’t planned to suit up and run around rooftops tonight, but he needed something to settle the feeling in his gut and the crawling over his skin.

He retreated to his room, giving Alfred a wave goodnight as he passed the butler, and threw on his Orpheus gear in record time. When he flung himself from his open window, he let himself fall further than usual before catching himself with flight and heading towards his usual stomping grounds.

Danny didn’t have any goal in mind for the night, so he mostly kept an eye on notoriously dangerous areas of Crime Alley and chatted with people on the street as they greeted him and gave him local news. He liked that he was forging a sort of bond with the people he was trying to protect here. 

It wasn’t until a bit after midnight that his phone rang–or, rather, Orpheus’ phone rang. He hauled himself over the edge of the building he had been climbing and dug out the burner phone, frowning at seeing an unknown number. Maybe Red Hood had passed his number on to one of the other Bats? 

Curious, he answered and pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?” He asked, tone flinty and guarded.

“Great, you answered!” Came a female voice on the other end. “Robin is in a bit of a spot of trouble, and you’re the closest to his current location.” 

Danny blinked, surprised. “Huh? Who is this?” 

“Not much time, you should get moving to his current location.” The woman said, almost scolding. She gave Danny quick directions towards Robin, and he set off where she was leading him after some hesitation.

If this turned out to be a horrible trap, well, Orpheus wasn’t just another black-haired human vigilante in Gotham.

The woman was pleased that Danny was getting a move on and introduced herself. “The name’s Oracle. I’m the one behind the scenes for all of these Gothamites climbing buildings in nothing but spandex.” 

“They have body armor.” Danny protested in the Bats’ defense, although he wasn’t sure why.

Oracle barked out a laugh. “Do you?”

“N-no.” He said, glad Oracle was only on a voice call and couldn’t see the way his cheeks pinked at that. “I don’t need it, though.”

“Everyone says that until they get shot.” Oracle said in a tone that hinted to Danny that that was an actual occurence. 

“Uh–so, what kind of trouble am I saving Robin from?” 

“You remember when you helped out that woman and Batman, Red Robin, and Spoiler showed up?” Oracle asked and, after Danny made a noise of affirmation, continued. “Basically that’s a whole mess that we’ve been trying to figure out, and Robin is dealing with a couple of the… affected.” 

Danny had so many questions to ask for more details, but didn’t have the time to do so judging on how quickly he was approaching Robins location. He sighed into the line. “I so deserve a proper explanation later.”

“You do,” Oracle said easily to Danny’s surprise. 

Danny could hear the sounds of fighting and frowned. Robin was definitely outnumbered and against an apparently unfamiliar foe. “Well, I see the alley up ahead, so I’m gonna hang up.” He told Oracle, then did so, snapping the flip phone shut with a click . 

Shoving the phone back into his pocket, Danny leaped over the last rooftop to peer into the alley below. Robin was looking haggered, leaning to one side, and surrounded by five burly but blank-eyed men. Danny had seen worse odds.

He bounded down a fire escape then jumped the last story to land directly on the back of one of the pseudozombie men. Before the man could react, Danny cracked his elbow across the back of his head with enough force to probably do more than just send him unconscious. With the sort of number advantage these men had, Danny wasn’t taking any risks.

Robin looked momentarily surprised when Danny glanced up to check over the teen’s wellbeing. The young vigilante looked a bit worse for wear, but not in any immediate danger. Danny had arrived in time to prevent serious harm, it seemed. 

“Need some backup?” Danny quipped, rolling backwards in time to avoid a blow from one of the remaining four.

Robin sniffed almost derisively, as if he hadn’t just been in serious trouble a minute ago. “I was handling things,” he said and spun around with his katana, drawing a long slash up a man’s chest. 

The rest of the fight went disappointingly fast–not quite exciting as a ghost fight to really get Danny’s misplaced aggression and upset settled inside of him. He ended up taking down two more of the mentally zombified men, and Robin subdued the remaining two. 

Danny gently nudged one of the unconscious men’s cheeks with his foot. “Oracle said I’d get an explanation after helping you.”

“So, Oracle sent you,” Robin said, sour note in his tone of voice. Danny got the sense that his pride was a bit wounded. 

“Who else, I–” Danny began to speak but was cut off by the sound of fabric catching the wind. His head snapped up to see Batman descending from the rooftop on a grappling hook. Pushing his luck, Danny joked, “Look who’s late again.”

Batman glowered at Danny, his expression steel. It definitely stung a bit to be looked at that by one of his heroes and role models, especially considering the turmoil Danny’s head and heart were already in. Batman looked to Robin behind Danny, his expression softening. What really surprised Danny, was that the glare didn’t return to the man’s face after he returned his gaze to Danny.

“You helped Robin.” Batman stated. 

Danny hesitated, then nodded. “Oracle called me. Was I–was I supposed to say no? Was this a test? Sorry if I failed, I didn’t get the forewarning to study.” A touch of humor entered his voice at the end, trying to lighten the tension.

“This wasn’t a test.” Batman said after a long moment. “You proved to be valuable help tonight.”

Oh. Oh. Was Batman… praising Danny as Orpheus? Shit, he couldn’t let that go to his head too fast. He still had to be mad about being kept in the dark after their first encounter. 

Danny put his hands on his hips and gave Batman one of his own, patented Fenton glares. “If you want me to keep being ‘valuable help’, then I need to know what the hell is going on in this city.” 

Robin moved to speak, but Batman held up a hand in warning. The older vigilante looked thoughtfully at Danny, before nodding. “Oracle will fill you in on the need to know. She’ll keep you in line.”

Chapter Text

Wind whipped through Danny’s hair, as he sat on the edge of a skyscraper in downtown Gotham, clad in his Orpheus costume and flip phone pressed to his ear. He was listening, rapt, to Oracle as she explained what had been going on in the city unbeknownst to him.

“There’s something weird going through the city–an infection, a disease, a poison… we aren’t sure yet.” Oracle began to explain. Her voice was neutral, professional, and did not betray any hints as to her concern or worry over the situation. “There’s no known connections between any of the victims yet besides behavior and an unknown substance in toxicology reports.”

“So, there’s some sort of toxin or whatever making people go all aggressive zombie-like?”

There was a bit of a chuckle over the phone. “The boys have been arguing whether or not we can use the term zombie.”

“I dunno, it’s kinda been in my running dialogue in my head throughout my two encounters.” He admitted.

“The problem is, without knowing what’s causing these changes, there’s not much we can do after we subdue the affected individuals.” Oracle said with a sigh.

Danny frowned. “If it’s a toxin, can’t you just… wait it out?” 

“Not in this case, it seems.” Oracle paused, then elaborated. “After a few hours, their hearts just seem to give out from stress. We checked out the brain activity of some of the affected that attacked Robin the other night, and it’s eerily similar to brain activity during REM sleep.” 

“So they’re, what, sleepwalking?” Danny mused, thinking aloud. “If they’re dreaming and their hearts give out, maybe they’re like trapped in some sort of nightmare and get scared to death. Or, something.”

“Could be.” Oracle commented lightly. There was the sound of typing from her side of the call, then she spoke up again. “I’m sending you headshots of all of the victims so far. There’s been 21 as of the night Robin was attacked.”

“21?” He echoed, stomach dropping. “Since when?”

She hummed in thought before answering. “Early September. The man you encountered before first meeting Batman was the 13th.” 

Lucky number 13 , Johnny would be thrilled. Danny thought with an eye roll, then winced upon remembering Johnny and their last interactions with the blackout. His mood quickly soured.

His phone buzzed with the incoming pictures, and he told Oracle to hang on while he looked. Most of the pictures were unremarkable. Relatively average looking individuals in their late 20s to early 40s, it seemed. Some had interesting tattoos on their faces or peaking out from under the collars of shirts. He was scrolling quickly past the picture of Hal with an uncomfortable feeling, then paused.

One of the other pictures was surprisingly familiar. 

Staring back at him from the grainy photo on his flip phone screen was a woman he had met once, but only for a few seconds. Broad shouldered with short cropped hair, a dazzling smile, and eyes wrinkled with humor. The picture labeled 10 was the partner of one of Honey’s roommates and friends, Mimi. He recalled Honey telling him that her friend was devastated after her partner went missing with no help from the police. Mimi had sworn up and down that her partner had gotten a good job recently and was gonna take them out of Crime Alley. Danny bit his lip in concentration. That couldn’t just be a coincidence.

“I know one of these people. The 10th.” Danny eventually told Oracle with a bit of hesitation. “Not personally, but I could get in touch with someone that does and ask some questions. Maybe I could find some connection between her and Ha–I mean, the 13th.” 

“Look at that,” Oracle said with a warm note to her tone. “Already playing the part of a little detective.” 

Danny almost asked what she meant by that, but let it slide. He gave her a brief goodbye and thanks for the information, then closed the phone to shove in his pocket. 

He had to talk to Honey. 

Finding Honey wasn’t too difficult that night to Danny’s surprise. He stopped by her apartment first in hopes of asking one of her roommates where she was, but she apparently wasn’t working that night. Honey answered the door dressed in a comfortable tank top and sweatpants, long hair pulled into a messy bun. She greeted him with a smile and ushered him inside without much fanfare. 

After turning down the offered tea or coffee, he got settled on Honey’s couch with a leg tucked under himself. She poured herself a glass of wine and sat down on the opposite end. “So, Orpheus, what do you need?” Honey asked with a knowing smile.

“Why do you think I need something?” Danny complained, annoyed to immediately be sussed out. “Can’t I just visit a friend?”

“You could,” she began then took a small sip of her wine, “but you don’t” 

Danny crossed his arms over his chest, a bit flustered to be called out like that. Maybe it was true he only ever visited Honey when it came to Orpheus work business, but he was busy! 

“Oh, don’t pout.” Honey scolded him with a half roll of her eyes. “It makes you look way too young and adorable to be doing this hero nonsense.” 

His cheeks heated more at that. Eager to escape any further teasing, he opened his mouth to ask, “Do you know what Hal was doing leading up to him… ending up like that?” 

Honey’s expression shifted from playful to steely. “I tried to have no contact with him.” She reminded him, shaking her head.

“I know, but if there’s anything he got across to you, it could be important.” Danny pleaded.

“There was one thing” She admitted. When Danny urged her onward, she sighed and continued, “Hal was swearing up and down that he had got a new job down by the docks that would ‘change everything’.” She put air quotes around that.

Danny considered that. It was oddly similar to the sentiment he remembered hearing from Mimi about her partner the one time they interacted. “You know how Mimi’s partner went missing?” He asked. “I think that the two situations are related.”

Honey seemed displeased but not surprised by that. “Do you want me to shoot her a text to see if she can come tell you what she knows?” 

Nodding, he replied, “That would be appreciated.” 

The blonde woman pulled out her phone and began typing away to contact Mimi, while Danny leaned back into the comfort of the couch to turn the thoughts over in his head. He was dreading that the situation with Mimi’s partner and with Hal wasn’t a coincidence. The idea that someone was taking advantage of people desperate for better lives made him feel sick. How many people of Gotham could be reached with this? How many people would jump at even the slightest chance to claw their way out from destitution? It wasn’t right.

Eventually, Honey let him know that Mimi was on her way back to the apartment to talk with them. Danny hummed in affirmation, but kept ruminating on the possibilities. Ghosts were usually simpler than this–dangerous, still, but their motives and actions easy to understand once you knew what a ghost’s deal was. Humans, metahumans included, were messy tangles of wants and desires and motivations. It was something he had underestimated when taking up the mantle of Orpheus.

Honey chattered to him absently to fill the silence, and he listened enough to interject when needed. She didn’t seem bothered by his distraction, but just uncomfortable enough with them sitting in brooding quiet to talk mostly to herself. 

When Mimi arrived, Danny glanced at the door to take in the sight of her. She looked a bit worse for wear compared to when he saw her prior to her partner going missing. Her voluminous black curls were still beautifully maintained, but there was a tiredness and sadness to her face. The polite smile she gave Danny didn’t reach her eyes, bruised underneath from lack of sleep. He could almost feel the grief radiating off of her in waves. It set him on edge. Was this how people looked at him?

“Hello, Orpheus.” Mimi said quietly, taking a seat in an armchair near the couch. She sat daintily, legs crossed and back straight. 

He gave an awkward wave. “Sorry to call you in from work, Mimi, but thanks for coming on short notice.”

“No problem,” She replied, “I heard this was about Jess?” 

Danny made a mental note of Jess’s name–keeping the affected in his memory was the least he could do for the victims of this situation. “Yeah, it is. Can you tell me about what happened around the time she went missing? Have you heard anything from her or the police?” He asked.

Mimi scowled. “The police never believed that she was in any danger in the first place. As if she’d just abandon me.” She sounded distressed by the idea.

“I don’t think she left you of her own volition.” He told her, hoping that knowing for certain that her partner hadn’t wanted to leave her might alleviate some level of worry. The care that Mimi had for Jess was clear in her speech and sad, tired demeanor. 

“Who would hurt her?” Mimi asked, tone almost pleading.

“Not sure yet,” Danny said slowly. “But her picture came up in a group of victims of something going around Gotham.”

A hand went to Mimi’s mouth in either shock or pain. “Oh,” she intoned. Then, thinking, she answered the previous line of questioning. “Jess had gotten a job at one of the harbors. It paid really well and under the table, too. We would have had enough to get a place of our own in a better neighborhood within a few months.”

“Do you know where this job was?”

Mimi nodded, then got up from the arm chair to find a pen and some paper. Returning shortly, she handed Danny the slip. “This was the address. She told me not to come by at all, but for emergency purposes gave it to me.” 

Danny pocketed the paper with the address. “This will be a huge help.” He told her. “I promise that I’m going to do everything I can to find out what happened to her.” 

Standing, he moved to leave. Mimi grabbed his arm before he could move too far. With an intense look, she asked, “Do you know if she’s dead?”

He hesitated. From what Oracle said, it seemed like none of the affected had survived. Not all of them had been able to be identified either. Jess had probably been buried as a Jane Doe, with no loved ones knowing to mourn her. That didn’t feel right. Mimi deserved the truth. “She is. I’m sorry.” 

Mimi’s face crumpled in a moment with raw agony, and Honey stood up to wrap an arm around the other woman’s shoulder in a side hug. Trying to swallow down the pain, Mimi wiped at the corners of her eyes. “No, thank you. I’m glad to know for sure.” Then, her expression hardened. “Give whoever is responsible hell for me, Orpheus.” 

His stomach turned watching the rollercoaster of emotions that Mimi went on in those few seconds. He was entirely too aware of his own recent losses to go unaffected by seeing the woman’s despair so close up. Not trusting his voice to remain steady, he only nodded.

Mimi let go of his arm then turned inward to Honey, who met Danny’s eyes and flicked her gaze towards the door. Getting the message, he hurried out. When he closed the door, he could hear muffled sobs start up with Honey’s smooth, gentle voice giving comfort. 

Desperate to escape the situation, he all but ran out of the building while grabbing his phone from his pocket. He dialed up Oracle and only had to wait for one ring until she picked up.

“Find something?” She asked. Danny could almost hear the satisfied smile in her voice.

Taking a deep breath, he begged his voice to not shake and said, “Yeah. An address.” 

It was decided that the entire Bat family would investigate the address in two nights with Danny tagging along. That left Danny to be preoccupied with thinking about the situation through school on Friday, barely paying any mind to his classes. He expected Saturday during the afternoon to be much of the same, but it seemed that his family had other plans. Tim had knocked on Danny’s bedroom door and demanded accompaniment to a coffee shop downtown for some “brotherly bonding”, which was totally suspicious to Danny. 

Not wanting to bother with downtown parking, Tim had Alfred give them a ride there. The two others talked lightly with each other, while Danny remained silent and watched the passing city scenery. Occasionally, Tim would turn to look at Danny in the back seat and ask something, hoping for a response. Danny, not paying attention, would stumble over giving an answer and hope Tim gave up on including him. All in all, not Danny’s favorite car ride.

Eventually, Alfred dropped them off in front of a chic looking coffee shop with a minimalist black and white sign. He couldn’t really read the name of the shop on the sign because of the font and shrugged. Tim urged him inside and took him to the bar to order. Danny, more of an energy drink person rather than coffee drinker, hesitated before ordering a vanilla latte. Tim gave a drink order that was far too long and involved far too many shots of espresso. When Danny shot his adopted brother a look, Tim shrugged and claimed a caffeine addiction.

The two settled down at a small table with their drinks, and Tim didn’t wait long before pouncing on the topic of conversation he dragged Danny out for. “So, dear brother of mine, where is it you sneak off to at night?”

Shit , was Danny’s first thought and fuck was the second thought. He could have sworn he was being careful leaving the manor invisibly and only at hours the others would be asleep.

Tim pointed an accusing finger, “I see that look on your face where you’re looking for a good lie to deny the accusation with. Don’t even dare. I’m a middle child, so I perfected the art of lying to family.” 

“My parents didn’t ask enough questions for me to get good at lying,” Danny admitted sheepishly. 

“Concerning,” Tim noted, “But not the topic of conversation.”

“Why do you even want to know where I go?” 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Tim gave him a deadpan look. “You’re 16, newly adopted, and already have a habit of giving us all heart attacks.” 

Danny groaned, putting his cup down on the table hard enough to spill some on his hand. Shaking his hand out from the pain, he complained, “I don’t do anything dangerous.” 

“If I don’t get a good answer, Alfred and I are going to tell Bruce.” Tim threatened.

“What’s Bruce gonna do about it?” Danny asked.

Tim furrowed his brow, staring intently at his cup of coffee before looking up. “I dunno, put one of those baby locks on your door?” 

“Does that–does that work?” 

“It worked on Damian for about four hours.”

“Does Damian sneak out?” Danny asked, sipping his coffee again and looking at Tim over the rim.

“This isn’t about Damian.” Tim said.

Dany scowled. “Did you sneak out?” 

“This isn’t about me either.” Tim frowned, continuing, “Point is, Gotham’s dangerous and we don’t want you hurt.”

Danny wondered, briefly, if he could give a convincing enough lie that Jason could back him up on. They had a sort of comradery with Jason somewhat in the know of Danny being… not normal. He dismissed the idea, however, knowing that it would only make Jason start to badger him about where he went at night too. 

“I’m being careful!” He settled on protesting. “My mom was a ninth degree black belt. She taught me a thing or two about taking care of myself just in case.”

Tim let out a puff of breath, frustrated. “You shouldn’t be putting yourself in those situations in the first place.”

“Which I’m not ,” Danny said firmly. A complete, bold-faced lie. “But just in case trouble finds me, I’m not defenseless.”

Tim didn’t look pleased exactly, but seemed to resign himself to that. “We’re at a stalemate, aren’t we?”

“Yep.”

“You’ll keep sneaking out even if Alfred and I tell Bruce?”

“Yep.” 

“Fine, keep your secrets.” Tim relented. “But just know, if you don’t let anyone in to help you with whatever is going through that head of yours, everything’s just going to keep getting more twisted.” 

“My head is completely sorted out” Danny promised easily. “I don’t need anyone’s help ‘figuring things out’.”

Tim made a noncommittal noise but looked at Danny with a sad expression. He opened his mouth to say something else then shut it and shook his head instead. 

Neither of them were convinced by Danny’s insistence that he wasn’t drowning. 

Miserable, Danny briefly wondered how deep he’d be pulled under the water before he wanted their help. Then, he pushed that thought down. Why would he want their help when nothing was wrong with him? 

Danny was completely and entirely okay. 

Chapter Text

Green. Neon green.

All Danny could see was green .

His back was pressed to something cold and metal, and there was the sound of dripdripdrip . Something green sliding off of him and onto the floor. Hitting that floor with incessant noise. 

Where was he?

He couldn’t look around. Couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe–

Why can’t he breathe, why won’t his lungs fill with air?

Desperation, panic, fear.

Fear, fear, fear. 

It clouded his head and crowded out all rational thought until he was hollowed out with it. What was he scared of? The green, dripping in slow, deliberate trails down his chest? Or was he scared of–

Silver. The glint of light on metal. The scalpel .

Someone, something had cut him open like a frog pinned on a lab bench. Slow, deliberate, dragging cuts until he was flayed open. His vision sharpened, focusing in on a hand that was wrist deep in his open, bleeding chest. The forearm was stained in that green , and, vaguely, Danny wondered where the green was coming from. Shouldn’t everything be red if the source was him? 

Then, it hit him. He can’t breathe and not because he was choking. Danny wasn’t supposed to breathe. Green, as in green ectoplasm. 

Ghost. Dead. 

“Ghosts are unfeeling post-human manifestations.” A voice whispered in his ear. “They can’t feel pain nor fear, sweetheart.” 

Danny was dead. If he was dead, why was he afraid? Why did he hurt? He wanted to ask that to the hand in his chest–it had to be attached to a person, afterall. 

The hand retreated from his chest, clutching something in its fist. A heart. 

No, his heart.

With great effort, he forced himself to tear his gaze away from the green-stained arm holding his heart and upward. Up, up, up–dragging up the form of a broad-shouldered man and to a sick, satisfied smile. Further up, dark hair. A shock of white. 

Jason . 

“No!” The scream ripped from his throat as he surged forward, air suddenly filling his lungs.

The green was gone. The hole in his chest was gone. Jason was gone.

The helmet of Red Hood stared back at him. Around them were wooden crates, the sounds of fighting, and the salty smell of sea air. Danny scrambled away until his back hit wood. “G-give it back.” He demanded weakly of Red Hood, although he wasn’t sure why. The vision of Jason holding his heart rattled around his head uneasily. Was that real? He asked himself.

“Give what back?” Red Hood asked, gruff but concern creeping into his voice.

One of Danny’s hands went to feel his chest. There was only fabric. No ectoplasm. His heart thudding heavily. He was… okay?

“I-I’m okay.” Danny uneasily told Red Hood, although he voiced it more to comfort himself. “Where are we? What happened?”

“What do you last remember?”

Meeting up with Tim , Danny thought. Instead he said, “Getting coffee on Saturday afternoon.” 

“It’s the same night.” Red Hood began, “We started investigating the warehouse to find it was a Joker-run operation making some sort of… fear venom.”

“Fear venom,” Danny echoed, thinking to the blurry visions of being cut open on a metal table by Jason. 

“It’s what’s been driving those people crazy. You’re lucky the Joker didn’t seem to dose you with a complete version, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Danny didn’t feel lucky. He wanted nothing more than to curl in a ball and shut the world out.

Oracle’s voice crackled to life in Danny’s ear, “ Get back in the fight, boys.” He startled at that–he didn’t remember being given a comm. 

Red Hood ignored Oracle, asking, “Are you sure you’re okay, Orpheus?” 

He nodded. What was another lie added to his life? He could swallow down his fear and confusion enough to help out the others. Shakily, Danny rose to his feet. Red Hood did the same, then pulled out a gun with each hand and darted out from behind the stacks of crates they were hiding behind.

Danny followed, taking in the scene of the warehouse. There were crates and equipment of some sort scattered about, interspersed with the Bats fighting a variety of opponents–coherent hired goons, incoherent individuals dosed with the fear venom, and the Joker himself. Scattered about were others, hiding and cowering. Likely workers of the facility that had avoided being hit with Joker’s new concoction.

The Bats were easily outnumbered three to one, but Danny got the sense they had seen worse odds. 

What caught Danny’s eye was the Batman facing off against four of the Joker’s armed goons, fighting with practiced ease and precision. He knew that Batman likely had things handled, but in that moment he wanted nothing more than to help the vigilante that most definitely was not his idol. Approaching, staying low to the ground to avoid any stray gunfire, Danny noted how incredible the fight was to watch before something else caught his eye. The Joker, slinking around with a gold revolver in hand and avoiding the notice of the preoccupied Bats. He, too, was staring directly at the fight that Batman was involved in.

Batman was going to get shot, Danny realized. He had to do something, but it wouldn’t be quick enough to give voice to the warning. Thinking fast, he dove forward and grabbed onto the fabric of Batman’s cape. Letting his ghost half bleed over, he pulled down as hard as he could. He got the sense no normal human would be able to tug Batman off his feet, but Danny was no human. He put enough ghostly strength into it to pull Batman down the second before the Joker squeezed the trigger. 

The bullet whizzed past where Batman’s head had been a moment earlier. 

Snapping his head to the side to look at Danny, Batman looked startled of all things before smoothing that over. It was an odd expression to see on the hero’s face, no matter how brief. Danny barely met Batman’s gaze before he turned and ran towards the Joker, alight with a new determination to get that hell-damned clown. 

The Joker scowled at Danny and fled towards the warehouse entrance. A coward’s move to flee the fight, maybe, but he supposed that’s part of how Joker has gone uncaptured so many times–let the hired help and witless puppets handle the fights when it seemed the odds weren’t in his favor. Danny hated that spineless behavior.

Something had him holding his tongue from calling out Joker’s escape over the comms. Danny could do this and finally prove himself to the Bats, especially Batman. The older vigilante called out Orpheus’ name, but Danny ignored him. None of the other Bats seemed to divide their attention from their fights enough to notice him. Batman went to follow him, but was intercepted by several individuals affected with Joker’s fear venom.

It was just Danny, now. He steeled his determination, as he stepped foot outside the warehouse and into the chill of late autumn. Joker was making a beeline for a boat on the docs, but Danny was faster–he could cheat with just that little bit of ghostly power to gain an advantage on a more or less normal human.

The Joker paused at the end of the dock, glancing between the fishing boat and Danny approaching him. A wide, unsettling grin was plastered across the villain’s face. Almost like he was pleased with this outcome.

“Give up, Joker,” Danny said, voice hard as steel, “You can’t hotwire that boat fast enough to get away from me.”

“Perhaps I can’t.” The Joker let go of an an over dramatic sigh and pulled something from a coat pocket. “But what I can do is this: press this pretty, little, red button on this here remote and send a nearby children’s hospital sky-high.” 

A chill went down Danny’s spine. His eyes darted to the remote that the Joker held. The Joker had to be bluffing, surely? It was almost a cartoonish detonator with a comically large red button in the center. There was no way it was connected to actual bombs.

But, could Danny risk it? Could Orpheus risk it? Would the Joker even give the remote up if Danny let him escape? Indecision assaulted him in waves. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of doubt and fear and uncertainty. 

Danny had to play this smart. Careful. If he let the Joker escape, he’d continue making this fear venom concoction and harm countless others. But, if he risked apprehending him, that was putting an entire hospital of unknowing, vulnerable innocents at risk–were their potential lives worth it?

What would Batman do? Danny asked himself, eyeing the Joker who was wiggling his eyebrows exaggeratedly. He thought to what Red Robin said about Batman adopting younger vigilantes and about Batman’s soft expression when he realized that Robin was safe. 

Batman would certainly not risk the lives of hundreds of children.

Danny took a step back and put up his hands in a placating gesture. 

The Joker let loose a cackle and gave a waggle of his fingers. “Good choice, my little Grecian hero.” The clown hopped onto the fishing boat and made quick work of getting the engine to turn over. Danny could only watch as the Joker began to pull away in the boat. He turned around towards Danny and tossed the remote in a big arc towards him. “As a treat for our delightful first meeting.” 

Danny caught the remote easily and looked down at it, thoughtful. He couldn’t bear to watch the Joker escape with little resistance. The only shred of hope he could cling onto was the hope that the Joker hadn’t been bluffing, and that Danny made the right choice.

He reached up to activate his comm unit, as he jogged back towards the warehouse to rejoin the lingering fight. “The Joker got away.”

“Shit, really?” Spoiler asked over the line.

“Fucking clown bastard.” Red Hood grumbled, obviously displeased. That made Danny wince.

Nightwing informed him, “We’re just finishing up in the warehouse.” 

“Rendez-vous on the docks?” Tim suggested. The others voiced their agreement.

Danny paused his retreat to the warehouse and plopped himself down on the dock, sitting cross-legged and leaning forward on his elbows. He was exhausted between being hit with that weird Joker fear venom, seeing Batman nearly shot, and the encounter with the Joker. Turning over the remote in his hand, there was a heavy sense of shame and guilt building in his gut, aware that he might have colossally fucked up by letting the Joker go. 

After five or so minutes, the Bats joined him on the dock one-by-one. Each greeted him lightly but tiredly. Most chose to follow after him and sit themselves on the dock, sprawling out in various, exhausted positions. When he asked what happened with the combatants inside the warehouse, Red Robin told him that they were all tied or cuffed and most knocked unconscious. 

Batman was the last to emerge, fixing his gaze on Danny. 

Danny looked away, the shame coming to a head.

“What happened out here?” The Batman demanded.

“The Joker… he had a remote,” Danny said, brandishing the black box. “He said it was tied to bombs at a children’s hospital. I didn’t know for sure… I thought it could be true…” He trailed off uncertainly.

Batman was unreadable and silent for several moments. Then, he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Huh?” Danny voiced.

“Are you injured? Any lasting effects of being dosed?”

“Oh–” Danny didn’t know what to make of that. He thought back to the image of his ectoplasm staining Jason’s hand, his heart curled in his adopted brother’s fist. “–I’m fine. Just… worried.” 

Batman frowned, and Danny’s heart dropped. Then, the older vigilante said words that shocked him to his core. “Good job.” 

Danny blinked, confused. “What?” 

“You did well under pressure, Orpheus,” Batman continued. “You had good information to lead us here and had our backs. Beyond that, you made the right call with the Joker.”

Danny swallowed, hard, some sort of heavy emotion blossoming in his chest at the praise. 

Oracle chimed in, “Tracking the signal now, and it really does seem like the Joker was telling the truth. There’s probably bombs set up all throughout the foundation of the closest hospital.” 

“That hospital houses hundreds of   patients–most under the age of 15.” Nightwing commented, brow creasing in concern.

“It’s a good thing Orpheus was didn’t let the Joker set off that remote.” Signal said. Danny glanced at the meta, who gave him a smile. “Hope you’re not feeling too bad after that stint with Joker’s weird, new fear venom.” 

“Lucky,” Orphan added, voice quiet. “You’re still here.” 

Danny shut his eyes against the voices of the Bats as they continued to talk and make a plan for dealing with the bombs in the hospital. He couldn’t handle anymore action. Not after everything that had happened in such a short period of time. He was barely even aware that he was trembling until Robin put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t push yourself,” Robin said flatly. “We might still need use of you in the days to come.” 

Right , Danny thought, this is about being useful. I don’t mean anything else to them . 

I don’t mean anything to anyone. 

Danny’s own face stared back at him in his bathroom mirror–tired, haggard, and worn. He had pulled his hoodie and t-shirt off to examine his bare chest. His skin was smooth, free of scars thanks to his advanced healing factor. There was nothing to indicate that he had ever experienced violence at another being’s hand. He almost looked normal. 

His hand reached for the sharpie he had brought in, laid on the bathroom counter. Popping the cap off, he considered the visions that had assaulted him while dosed with Joker’s weird toxin. Slow and deliberate, he brought the sharpie towards his chest and let it hover over his sternum. 

He knew some surgical terms, vaguely, out of a morbid sense of curiosity. A common method to do heart procedures was a median sternotomy–a line straight down the sternum. 

It disturbed him that his skin was so clean of any indication of a life of fighting. Danny brought the sharpie to his skin and dragged a line down his sternum where the scar would be if Jason had actually cut him open to dig his heart out. That was… better, almost. 

He looked intently at his reflection.

Since becoming half ghost and taking up the mantle of Phantom, he had heard his parents and the Guys in White make countless comments about dissecting him or other ghosts. What would that scar look like? He knew that there were a few ways dissections or autopsies were done, but the one that came to mind first was the classic Y incision. 

Morbidly curious, he put the sharpie to skin again and extended the line across his sternum then gave it two flares out at the top to make a Y . 

Danny exhaled slowly.

If someone were to finally dissect him, that’s what it would look like. 

There was a knock at the door. Duke’s voice rang out clearly, “Dinner is ready, if you want to join us tonight.”

Quickly, Danny tugged a hoodie back over his bare chest. He walked to the door of his bedroom to greet Duke with a fake smile plastered on his face. “I can come with.” Danny said, voice even and not betraying a hint of the turmoil inside.

Duke nodded and turned, not even vaguely aware that underneath the hoodie was the black sharpie-drawn Y. 

A promise of what Danny deserved in life.

Chapter Text

Danny spent Halloween visiting in the Ghost Zone under the guise of attending classmates’ Halloween parties. Pandora and Dora were overjoyed to see him and catch up, listening to his adventures as Orpheus with rapt attention. Even Clockwork, with all his foresight and knowledge, had inquired about how things were going. Danny was careful to avoid lingering too long on his brush with the Joker’s fear venom. He was still a bit shaken by that and the thoughts that had taken root in his mind.

Perhaps that was what had led him to approaching Frostbite for more than a social visit. 

“How have things been, Great One?” Frostbite inquired while Danny settled down with a mug of ectoplasm infused hot chocolate. They were seated comfortably in a lounge in Frostbite’s house, away from the prying eyes of the other yetis.

He sipped on the hot chocolate while he debated how much to say. Danny yearned to be honest with someone and get help untangling the knots in his head and heart. Carefully, he admitted, “Things have been… weird.”

“Weird? How so?” Frostbite said with a slight frown.

“Um, well, I got a new vigilante identity besides Phantom–long story short, some stuff happened and now I like, I don’t know, fantasize? But like I fantasize about being dissected and stuff. It’s off in the back of my head though, kinda separate from all my other thoughts.”

Frostbite examined him for a long moment. “Are you seeing a therapist?”

“Huh?” Danny tipped his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“It’s possible you’re experiencing a form of derealization where you dissociate yourself from reality–like a daydream, almost.” Frostbite added the last part when he saw confusion in Danny’s eyes.

Something clicked in his head. “Are memory blackouts another form of dissociation?”

“Elaborate,” Frostbite urged.

“Well, like, I’ve been having this… thing… lately.” Danny began awkwardly. He shifted in his chair before continuing, “I’ll get really overwhelmed or mad or something, then, poof! It’s just all gone until a bit later, and I’m somewhere else with no memory of what happened.” 

Frostbite considered, a low hum building in his throat. The yeti ghost was silent while he thought, leaving Danny to squirm uncomfortably where he sat. Eventually, Frostbite spoke up, words slow and chosen carefully, “It is possible that could be an example of extreme dissociation, but not without some sort of underlying human psychiatric condition.”

“Oh.” Danny sighed and looked down at his hot chocolate. “Well, that doesn’t help me–I’m half ghost.”

“You’re half human, Great One.” 

“What?” He wasn’t sure what Frostbite was getting at with that statement.

“A half human can still have human psychiatric disorders.”

“ What? ”

“You’ve been through many ordeals through these two years.” Frostbite said gently. “It is nothing to be ashamed of if your trials and tribulations weigh heavy on your mind. I’m not a human psychiatrist, but Depression or even Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder wouldn’t be too far-fetched for you to be experien–”

Danny interrupted, “Look at the time, I really have to go!”

“Please, Great One, this isn’t something that will go away if you ignore it.” Frostbite pleaded.

Danny shook his head, standing and placing his mug of half-drunk hot chocolate on the nearby side table. He stopped long enough to give a polite bow to Frostbite, then dashed for the exit of the yeti ghost’s house. Frostbite's prodding had pulled something loose, and Danny was intensely aware of the flood of emotions and thoughts that stormed around him. He wasn’t sure how long he flew through the Ghost Zone before becoming aware that he had gotten turned around without realizing. 

Alone and adrift in a sea of green. 

He landed on a small, floating island and let himself sink to his knees. 

Alone. Alone. Alone . 

The world around Danny moved at a snail’s pace, dragged to a crawl by its own weight and his thoughts circling like sharks around the word.

Alone.

His family, friends, and countless others were gone. Dead , an unhelpful part of his head reminded him. Gone and dead and not coming back. Danny didn't know how to live in a world without them. He didn’t know why the world continued to move on or the earth continued to rotate without them on it.

Every day, city streets would bustle with people going about their lives. 

Didn’t they know the people Danny loved most were gone? Didn’t they care?

The grief was a quiet but violent thing, sitting with him now. It settled on his shoulders, heavier than any cape or cloak had a right to be. As he turned the thoughts over in his head, could he even put words to the way that grief made colors look dimmer or his presence feel smaller? It was as if a world without the others expanded and grew, a hungry monster not yet sated by blood. 

There was the tiniest of urges to scream, to hit something, to throw a tantrum. Within that urge, Danny imagined himself splitting the little island apart. That urge, however, was dampened by how impossibly small Danny felt and how impossibly heavy the weight on his shoulders was. He couldn’t bear to move from his crouched position. How could he possibly throw a fit like he wanted?

No, he was alone , and none of the ghosts or the Waynes or even the Bats could change that. So, Danny continued to stand, still and silent as a tree in a forest–surrounded by others and yet too far to reach out to touch them. Inside he was hollowed out by the loss. None of anyone’s efforts to fill him back up would ever succeed. Not when his very being was riddled with holes, letting any substance leak right back out.

Danny lifted his head and gazed out over the expanse of ectoplasm, and his stomach twisted.

The green of the Ghost Zone might have well been gray for all the nothing it made him feel.

Visiting Frostbite had done nothing to undo the mess of knots inside him. In fact, it was like his emotional state had been run over by a truck after that. The only thing that soothed the coiling stress was running across rooftops with the autumn chill of night prickling across his face. He fell into a surprisingly easy routine with the Bats, working with them on a semi-regular basis.

Danny would deny all claims of Orpheus being taken under Batman’s wing as his newest protege, though. That hadn’t yet been formally addressed, and so Danny wasn’t going to get his hopes up. Not to say that he hoped Batman would make him his protege. He didn’t need to get that close to the Bats for fear of them discovering more about him, particularly his powers. There was still a measure of wariness he had towards Batman due to the vigilante’s view on outside metas. Signal was a meta, but Danny got the sense that he was pretty strongly tied to Batman. 

The easy dynamic was enjoyable. The Bats didn’t yet trust him enough to let Orpheus run around alone, but he found that he didn’t mind the patrols and missions with the various Gothamite vigilantes. The casual rapport between the vigilantes and their readiness to pull Orpheus in was eerily familiar, however, in a way that made his hair stand on end. If he had to put words to it, then Danny would admit that the Bats’ dynamics reminded him of the Waynes.

The realization had sent shivers of guilt up his spine. First he had begun to replace his family and friends with the Waynes, but now it felt as if he was jumping to replace the Waynes with the Bats. The Wayne family had done a lot for him, even if he held them at a distance. It wasn’t right to just push them away in favor of vigilante life. 

Danny decided to spend more time with the Waynes and tried to hold himself to that promise. Between school, visiting the Ghost Zone, and working as Orpheus, though… Well, he was already exhausted juggling those three things. A social life on top of it was a daunting task. 

Things were compounded when Batman, voice tight with a poorly hidden concern, had called him and informed him that Red Robin had been quite severely injured investigating a lead. He went on to explain that no one would be allowed to patrol alone until things settled down, Orpheus included. Part of Danny buzzed with resentment at being told what to do when he was capable in his own right, but another part of him was thrilled to be included under the umbrella of concern. So, when Batman told Danny he was to join Orphan on a stakeout that night, he had no desire to turn the vigilante down.

He was about to prepare to leave for the stakeout when there was a knock on his bedroom door. Damian’s voice filtered through, refined but warm with the casual bond the two had been growing, “If you have not yet turned in for the night, would you like to join me for an astronomy lesson?” 

Dread pooled in Danny’s stomach. Shit. He had just promised himself to not push the Wayne family away, and here a situation was presenting itself where he’d have to do just that. If he agreed to go stargazing with Damian, then he’d be letting Orphan–and Batman–down. But, turning him down meant lying to someone who only meant well despite their sometimes bristly exterior. 

With a sigh, Danny walked over to the door and cracked it open to see Damian’s expectant face. The younger teen’s features were smoothed into a mask of neutrality, but there was a glimmer in his eyes that Danny didn’t miss. He frowned and made a show of rubbing at his temple. “I would, but I have a hell of a migraine.” Danny lied smoothly, pitching his voice in a cracky whisper to try to sell it. 

Damian glanced down and away from Danny’s face, a flicker of a frown nudging his lips before the expression was gone. He looked back up and nodded. “Very well, I hope that you recover swiftly.” 

The teen turned on his heel and continued down the hallway, each step perfect and practiced. 

Danny exhaled and pulled the door closed. Before the guilt could swell, he quickly busied himself with changing into his Orpheus costume and hurrying towards the meeting spot with Orphan.

The stakeout was by the harbor for another potential Joker venom location, and Orphan greeted him with a silent nod. Settling in, he examined Orphan subtly. The vigilante was an odd one amongst the Bats–preferring to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary. Orphan wasn’t unfriendly by any stretch of the word, but seemed content to keep to herself or silently bask in the presence of the other Bats. She moved with the grace and elegance of someone trained in dance or perhaps gymnastics, every movement of her body careful and calculated. The way she fought was distinctly different from Batman and most of the other Bats, which had him wondering if she hadn’t been trained by him. 

Sometimes Orphan would watch him, head cocked slightly, as if trying to puzzle him out. That was a bit unnerving, if Danny had to admit, but he supposed Orpheus would be a curiosity to the Bats. 

The cold of night settled between them, a heavy blanket weighing down. Time was ticking away with no sign of activity from the warehouse they were watching, and Danny was starting to get fidgety. Patience had never been his strong suit, particularly being patient with nothing to occupy him. 

He bit his lip, considering, then asked, “So, Orphan, were you trained by Batman?” 

She moved her head slightly to look at him at the noise of his voice, but did not verbally respond. With a half shrug, Danny understood her to be saying Not entirely. 

Ah, Danny could hone in on her similar to the way he had with Cass when she was looking for her journal. Frostbite had once mentioned that Danny could develop the ability to see auras, and he filed away that this might be that power developing. For now, he let himself tentatively open himself up to what Orphan was communicating.

“Where did you train before coming to Gotham?” 

Orphan shifted, averting her gaze and chin lowering. Something she didn’t want to discuss–perhaps painful or shameful in her eyes. 

“That’s fine,” Danny said soothingly, and offered up, “I’m pretty much entirely self taught.”

The other vigilante seemed thoughtful at that–weighing that detail with their previous assessment of his skill. After moments of consideration, she tilted her head to the side as if to ask the validity of the statement.

He didn’t see any harm in being vague about his past experience, so he told her, “I’ve been at this for a while. Alone. Had to learn quick or get the shit kicked out of me.”

Something akin to amusement blossomed around Orphan. It was vibrant and comforting, despite her initially subdued and cautious demeanor. Her quiet was not for a lack of caring nor for any unpleasantness she held, but rather she was content with being an observer for the world. The way that Orphan watched him, now, was with such open and soft curiosity that Danny couldn’t hold it against her like he might have for fear of being discovered. 

It was familiar–oddly so. 

The hot and cold interaction and asking probing questions to examine her reactions was so reminiscent of his interactions with Cass, that suspicion coiled in his gut. Danny bit his lip and glanced away, a question on the tip of his tongue.

Have you ever played 20 Questions? 

He wanted to ask it.

If Orphan was Cass, then he figured that she’d have a very level-headed reaction to finding out his identity. She might even be willing to keep the secret for him. 

But what would Cass be doing as a vigilante? A Bat, no less? 

The words were thick in his mouth and caught in his throat like cotton.

Before he could swallow the nerves down and ask, the comms crackled to life. Oracle’s voice was clear and calm, “ Spoiler and Signal got caught up in a bank robbery they could use another set of hands with. It’s close by. ”

Danny watched as Orphan gave him a firm nod, then stood with the fluidity and elegance of a ballerina–or perhaps simply someone trained to be very, very dangerous. Without another look back at him, the other vigilante slipped into the shadows. Orpheus would follow, of course, but he couldn’t help but wonder who it was underneath that mask.

Chapter Text

Danny usually drifted through the day at school, minding his own business and keeping his head down. He didn’t make any particular effort to make friends, and that didn’t bother him. It did, however, seem to bother Duke and Damian. His adopted brothers would periodically try to get him to interact with their friend groups. He had willingly joined the Astronomy Club with Damian, but that was the concession he was willing to make.

Of course, Duke had managed to lull him into a false sense of security with the claim he had a friend that needed help with AP Astronomy homework during lunch. He had a surprisingly good time joking around with Duke’s friends while coaching one of them through their homework. It wasn’t until lunch was over and he and Duke were walking through the halls to the library for their shared free period that a realization came to Danny.

Turning on Duke, he took on an accusatory tone, “You tricked me into socializing!”

“You’ve been too dreary lately,” Duke said, bumping shoulders with Danny.

Scowling, Danny replied, “I have not.”

“Just look at your face, dude!” Duke chuckled. “Total grump.” Danny rolled his eyes, and Duke continued, “Besides, I had to see if you’d been replaced by an imposter after you gave Damian the slip when you were supposed to stargaze together.”

“How’d you know about that?” Danny asked, brow furrowed.

“You do know we talk to each other, right?”

“Well, yeah, but–”

“Damian might seem prickly, but he looks forward to the time you spend together.” There was a softness to Duke’s voice when he spoke.

Swallowing the guilt, Danny said, “I know that.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“Why’d you do it?” Duke glanced over, as he opened the door to the library.

Danny was silent while they found an empty table tucked away in the corner of the room. “I told him I wasn’t feeling well.” He said eventually, crossing one leg under himself.

Duke gave him a look that said he didn’t believe that.

“Jeez, what is this? An interrogation?” Danny complained, voice whining slightly.

“Just some brotherly worry.”

Ah, worry, Danny thought sourly. He hated when people worried over him. It felt so patronizing–as if he couldn’t take care of himself.

Duke noticed his expression and added, “We are allowed to worry about you, Danny. You’ve kinda been through it lately.”

“I’m not a baby.” Danny protested. “I can handle myself.”

Duke exhaled slowly, as if containing frustration. “We know that, but–”

“Can we change the subject?” Danny asked, looking away and shifting in his seat.

Duke was quiet a long moment, before nodding and easily launching into some bit of school gossip. Danny half listened, but was more preoccupied with Duke’s line of questioning. Letting himself miss out on time with Damian because of Orpheus hurt.

It was an easy thing to let vigilante life consume his mind. With Phantom, he had let it eat at relationships with others. It strained things with Jazz until she revealed she knew his identity, but had successfully crushed his relationship with Valerie. They had a good thing going–if only there weren’t so many secrets between them as Phantom and the Red Huntress. That wasn’t to mention how being Phantom and the dishonestly that came with affected him and his parents.

His parents had been concerned at first, expressing their worry and reaching out in their own ways. Gradually that concern gave way to disappointment, and the disappointment gave way to apathy. They had just… stopped caring, it seemed. Him disappointing them became the norm, so they didn’t bother setting expectations. Danny couldn’t even blame them–Phantom took up so much time that he let school and family obligations fall through the cracks.

Was that happening here?

Was he backsliding to old habits and letting his life as Orpheus ruin the budding relationships he had with the Waynes?

He wondered idly when they’d realize he was a lost cause and stop reaching out to him. Duke smiled and joked with him now, his expression and kindness radiant in the dim light of the library, but how long would that last?

An uncomfortable feeling tightened his chest. Danny wasn’t certain if being Orpheus would be worth that. A selfish part of him didn’t want to lose the Waynes–he wanted so desperately to lean into the easy comfort and camaraderie that they offered. These people were welcoming him in with open arms, and it was tempting despite how horribly selfish it was to not only replace his family but to forgo his responsibility to do good in the world.

The uncertainty sat heavy in his mind.

He wouldn’t come to a conclusion anytime soon, so he pushed the thought to the side and let himself listen to the prattling story that Duke was telling.

It was supposed to be a movie night with the Waynes and their friends at Dick’s apartment. Danny had no reason to stay away, so was ready to go along and try his best to enjoy himself. That was, until Batman requested that Orpheus join him on patrol.

Could he say no?

Did he even want to say no?

He ended up telling Duke that he had too much homework to focus on that weekend, pushing the guilt down as he made the excuse. Duke’s response, however, echoed in his head, as he met up with Batman for patrol.

“Y’know, we’ll all be there when you’re ready to join us.”

Something twisting in his gut told Danny that Duke hadn’t just meant movie night. He was turning that over in his head when Batman cleared his throat and spoke up.

“You’re not from Gotham.”

Danny glanced over at the sound of Batman’s gruff voice. It wasn’t a question, but instead a simple statement of fact. He looked away again, continuing to peer out over the city and gave a half shrug. “Nope.” He said, popping the p.

Batman’s gaze was hot on the back of Danny’s neck. Scrutinizing. Intense. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.” His response was automatic, the lie he had practiced slipping easily off his tongue.

Batman grunted, not believing it for a moment.

Danny was careful not to look back at the vigilante for fear of watching him for any signs of disapproval. “Seventeen.” A pause. “Almost.”

Silence stretched between them, the cloak of night weighing heavy on Danny’s shoulders. The smog of Gotham clung unpleasantly to his throat. Glancing up, he noticed that the thin, wispy clouds hid the dim stars of the city sky. Danny missed the night sky.

He missed a lot of things.

“I’m… sorry.” Batman eventually said, voice tight and not as rough as usual.

“What do you have to be sorry to me about?” Danny asked as lightly as he could, ignoring the slow and painful pounding of his heart in his chest.

“I wish...” Batman began, then stopped and started over. “I’ve gathered that you’ve been at this for much longer than we’ve known of you. Young people like you shouldn’t feel so betrayed by the world that you go out and do what it is I–and others like me–do.”

“You have your Robins.” He commented, straining to keep his voice even.

Batman’s response was firm. “They’ve been supervised and trained. You admitted to Orphan that you were self-taught.”

The surprise barely registered that Orphan had shared that detail with Batman. Of course the Bats would be comparing notes against him, but it making sense did not detract from the bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

“It’s not about being betrayed by the world or anyone.” Danny grumbled, picking at a loose thread on his costume. “It’s about having the power to stand up for what’s right. If the only people with the resolve to do something were the corrupt, then we’d all suffer.”

Batman made no verbal reaction to the declaration, setting Danny’s mind on edge. Weariness was heavy in the vigilante’s voice, “That’s what drives Orpheus, perhaps. What of the young man behind the mask? Given your extracurriculars, I question the supervision you receive.”

Danny watched cars pass on the street below, headlights flaring in the dark of night. The constant purr of car engines and hum of electricity in power lines buzzed in his ears. He curled his fingers into his palms, mouth dry around the words, “My family is dead.”

A sympathetic noise of acknowledgement came from Batman. “I lost my parents at a young age.” He began. Danny knew that the vigilante was reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, so he rose to his feet and balanced on the edge of the roof. Batman continued, “It led me down this path.”

A bitter laugh passed Danny’s lips, the noise cracked and broken. “They only died recently–I’ve been doing this since I was 14.” He muttered, bitterness curling inside him.

He leaned forward, feeling his balance wobble as his toes curled over the edge of the roof. Pushing himself forward, he leaped without taking a running start. Any normal human would be plummeting towards the street below, but Danny propelled himself forward with a small burst of energy. Wind rushed past him, buffeting his face, and the feeling was exhilarating.

Down, down, down.

He caught himself on the building across the alley.

And the rush was gone, leaving him hollow.

Chapter Text

“Do you think this was targeted?”

Danny glanced up at the sound of Signal’s voice. The two of them were checking out the office of an event security firm exec in a highrise after he had turned up dead due to the Joker's fear venom. It had yet to be seen whether the man had been a random victim or not.

“Dunno.” Danny said unhelpfully with a shrug, running a hand along the edge of a bookshelf filled with books on finance and event planning. “Possibly? He’s not working class like the others, so it’s a change of pattern. That has to count for something.”

“Exactly.” Signal murmured from where he was dusting the windowsill for fingerprints.

Danny wasn’t quite sure why he had been picked to go along with Signal for this particular mission, but he wasn’t about to complain about being included in the investigation.

“What do we even know about this guy?” Danny asked, turning away from the bookshelf to approach the desktop computer. He began to make short work of powering it on to check it out.

“He does security for conferences, concerts, and so on.” Signal responded. “Not super high up on the corporate ladder, but manages decently sized projects.”

Danny frowned. The desktop was password protected. He began to rummage through the desk in search of any indication of the password. While doing so, he mused, “Maybe the Joker is going to hit some sort of event coming up.”

“That’d be bold–even for him.” Signal added, but his voice was tight with concern.

Aha. Danny pulled a green sticky note off of the desk from where it was hidden underneath a stack of invoices. He typed in the password that was written down and was pleased to see the home screen begin to load up. Fishing an external harddrive out of his belt pouch, he plugged it into a slot in the desktop and pulled up the command console to begin transferring the PC’s data.

He tapped his fingers on the desk as the data transfer ticked away. “This isn’t a victim of opportunity.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Signal agreed.

With that, the silence stretched between them. Signal continued to look for clues of a breakin, and Danny observed the desktop computer as it transferred its data to the external harddrive. He leaned his elbows on the desk, turning his head to glance over at the vigilante to quip, “You know I’m starting to think Red Robin’s computer genius stuff is all just nonsense. See, this is easy.”

Signal glanced away from the window to shake his head at Danny. “You never know when he could be listen–” He paused, a look of sudden alarm crossing his face as the words died on his tongue. The other vigilante surged forward and grabbed Danny’s arm, pulling him away from the desk.

The intensity of Signal’s expression and action gave Danny pause, so he let himself be moved. After a few moments passed, the PC began to whir and hum, giving off heat until it exploded outwards. Bits of the casing and circuity from the inside showered them, but the blast was relatively low power.

Danny, however, was shaking.

His eyes didn’t leave the spot he had been standing next to the desk.

“That was a close call.” Signal said. His voice took on a worried note, and the vigilante began to check him over for injury. “Are you alright? You seem rattled.”

Unbeknownst to Signal, it wasn’t the fact the PC exploded that had Danny shaking.

Duke’s voice was nervous and uncertain, as he cut Danny off. "That was a close call. What happened?"

Signal knew that the computer was going to explode before it did.

Duke knew that the ectogun was going to explode before it did.

Signal pulled him away.

Duke pulled him away.

“That was a close call.”

“Orpheus?” Signal asked. When he got no response, he reached out for Danny’s shoulder. “Orpheus? Did you get hurt?”

Danny jerked away from the touch, blinking owlishly at Duke–no, Signal–or… Duke?

“No.” He said after a long moment of silence. “Was that—was that part of your meta abilities?”

“Mm?” Signal intoned, tipping his head to the side.

“You knew it was going to explode before I did.”

“Oh, that.” Signal sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I call my ‘Ghost Vision’. I can see where light has or will be.”

“Have you…” Danny’s mouth felt dry. He forced the words out, begging his voice to stay steady, “done that before? Seen an explosion before it would happen?”

“Of course.” Signal replied easily, as if he wasn’t sending Danny’s whole world crashing down around him.

Danny needed to leave. He needed to think. Time–he needed time.

“Getting that data’s a bust. There’s nothing else here though, so, uh, I guess we’re done.” He said, words coming out quick and jumbled.

Signal shot him a look, “We can still–”

But Danny wasn’t listening. He pulled away from Duke and walked towards the window. His limbs felt like jelly or like he was a baby fawn walking for the first time. Tugging the window open with more force than necessary, he crawled through it and was gone.

The Signal was Duke Thomas.

Danny turned that fact over in his head as he paced his bedroom. He hadn’t bothered removing his Orpheus gear yet, too restless and flustered to even consider doing that.

But… Duke wasn’t the only one.

Cass and Orphan–they both had that same way of communicating. The silent observation, the quiet wit, and the poised grace of a dancer.

He let out a shaky breath.

This was absurd. It shouldn’t be possible.

And yet–Red Hood. His presence curled around his ghost sense in a way reminiscent of Jason. He had dismissed it at first on account of the Red Hood’s vibe being tinged with rage and violence, but it’d make sense for someone to tap into those feelings while fighting crime in the dead of night.

Danny felt sick. He remembered a flash of Jason holding his still-beating heart in hand reflected in the visor of Red Hood’s helmet, as he woke up from being dosed with the Joker’s fear venom. It was maybe a coincidence but maybe a moment of subconscious recognition.

None of this was to forget Red Robin’s comment about Batman adopting vigilantes and Bruce’s gaggle of adopted–and pseudo-adopted–children. There was… It lined up perfectly.

Batman. Bruce.

Nightwing. Dick.

Oracle. Barbara.

Red Hood. Jason.

Red Robin. Tim.

Spoiler. Steph.

Orphan. Cass.

Robin. Damian.

Signal. Duke.

How had he not seen it before?

The Waynes were the Bats.

Damian’s fifteenth birthday was on the 13th, so the entire family along with Steph and Barbara were all in and out of Wayne Manor. That was a fact that Danny had forgotten up until the point he received a text from Duke telling him to come down for breakfast, since Alfred made it special. A glance at the time and date said that it was 9:26 A.M. on the 12th.

He hadn’t even realized the morning had come so quickly. Danny had spent the night switching between tossing and turning in bed and pacing his bedroom. He was sweaty and gross and still clad in his Orpheus costume minus the lower face mask.

Impulsiveness seized him.

Grabbing the mask off his bedside table, he pulled it back over his face and headed downstairs. The walk across the hall and down the grand staircase felt like it stretched on for miles. Thoughts thundered around in Danny’s mind, his confusion and guilt and elation at the realization of who the Waynes were all twisted up inside. Approaching the kitchen, he could hear the overlapping, bickering voices of his adopted family. Of the vigilantes he had come to call allies.

Of two groups of people who were one and the same.

Danny didn’t have to choose between the Waynes and the Bats or Danny and Orpheus anymore. Right here and right now, he could selfishly and impulsively grab the chance to be both. His hands were shaking with anticipation, his heart beating in his chest with hummingbird beats.

He stepped into view of the dining room.

One by one the Waynes–the Bats–his family looked up.

Barbara and Alfred were the first to smile, wicked glints in their eyes. The Wayne family’s butler inclined his head, voice warm and inviting, “How nice of you to finally join us.”

Danny hadn’t planned what he would say, so it came out in a stuttering mess. “Are you… You’re Batman, aren’t you? Not just Batman, but you’re all…”

“Orpheus–” Bruce began to say, pushing himself up from his chair to stand.

“N-no.” He interrupted sharply. “It all lines up too perfectly. You’re all–you’re all…” He couldn’t say the words aloud.

Barbara sipped on her drink–something orange and fizzy in a champagne glass–and spoke up, sounding like the cat that caught the canary, “Right on track for when I thought you’d piece things together.” Dick elbowed her and whispered something harshly to her, but Danny was too fixated on Bruce’s approaching form to pay it any mind.

He watched as Bruce closed the gap between them with purposeful, careful strides. His adopted father spoke slow and low, as if talking to a feral alley cat, “You could be a part of the family–a true member, if you’d have us. No pretenses, no masks. Just you.”

Danny looked up, wide-eyed. All words and any breath had left him. He was still–so very still in case this was a dream and the slightest movement would startle himself awake.

He didn’t want to wake up.

He wanted this to be true.

He wanted to be a–

“But you’re not a new addition to the Waynes. Isn’t that right, Danny?” Bruce said with a smile so soft and warm that no one outside this room would believe it came from Batman.

With shaking and reverent hands, Danny reached up and pulled his mask off to reveal the rest of his face. He didn’t look past Bruce to examine the rest of the family’s reactions–he didn’t want to know the varying levels of surprise or lack thereof. All he wanted to see was the way that Bruce looked at him with such open, raw acceptance.

There was no hint of rejection or cruelness in the man’s gaze.

Danny took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and allowed himself the courage to say, “Well, if you’d all have me.”

End of Part II. Orpheus

“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.”

-Brené Brown

Chapter Text

Part III. Wayne

Danny and his newfound family fell into an easy routine over the next few weeks. After Damian’s birthday was thoroughly celebrated, Danny had been gifted an updated costume for Orpheus with the bat logo emblazoned on the chest in a reflective white material. The change to his vigilante getup marked his official induction into the Bats as Bruce’s newest apprentice, and the thought of it made his heart and core swell with joy.

Things were… good?

The blackouts and the strange dreams were gone for Danny. The Joker’s fear venom seemed to have vanished off of the market. It was quiet, and the family was given some time to enjoy the turning of the seasons and a predictably hectic Thanksgiving. Such a large family full of so many distinct personalities meant trouble when they all were together, but the camaraderie and genuine care they all had for each other was obvious. More than that, they all were more than happy to drag Danny along with them into their dynamic.

All through the quiet and the blossoming care Danny had for the Waynes, he found himself dancing around the matter of Orpheus with Bruce and the others. He couldn’t take back some of the comments he had made regarding his past vigilante history, and Bruce was determined to wrangle the truth out of him as to why he had been running in the shadows since he was 14.

“The Waynes aren’t the only family with a legacy.” Danny had settled on saying and left it at that.

That small bit of tension between Danny and Bruce–or, rather, Orpheus and Batman–wasn’t enough to come close to ruining the genuine good mood that Danny had settled into. It had Danny even shyly admitting during Thanksgiving dinner that he was thankful to be adopted by the Waynes. That admission caused Bruce’s eyes to mist over, and Jason and Stephanie to lay into the man immediately with teasing about going soft.

Black Friday proved to be surprisingly fun, too–a day of shopping and sightseeing the city with the entire gaggle of his adopted siblings, Barbara, and Stephanie. Danny, despite his lingering misgivings about the Christmas season, had found himself picking out gifts for everyone during the shopping session. It was easy enough to hide his purchases from the intended recipients of each gift, given that they were so hung up over him not seeing their mountain of gifts for him. Apparently, Alfred had let slip the little detail that Danny’s birthday was on Christmas Eve and none of the Bats wanted to let Danny’s birthday be overshadowed by the holiday.

The good mood carried over to his patrol that night–just him and Batman while the others were taking the night off since things had been quiet.

Maybe Danny should have been more vigilant.

Maybe Danny should have realized that quiet was never good.

Maybe Danny should have been better in any way to see what would happen that night.

Instead, he was running across rooftops with practiced grace, each leap across alleyways as if he was flying. He, as always, subtly boosted himself with his powers, but had found himself letting go of them sooner and sooner during those jumps to feel the rush of adrenaline and the drop in his stomach.

In that moment, he thought he loved falling more than flying.

He had yet to realize how low a fall could take him.

“C’mon old man, can you keep up?” He cackled, voice in part drowned out by the wind whipping at his face but still carried through the comms to Bruce.

Bruce’s classic grunt crackled through the comms and into Danny’s ear, which pulled another peel of laughter from his chest. “Winning isn't about who gets there first, Orpheus.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Don’t go off trying to teach me moral lessons or whatever.”

“Keep going with that attitude, and I won’t introduce you to Commissioner Gordon.” Bruce said, letting his voice carry both the hard edge of a threat but the softness that let Danny know it was in jest.

Finding out that Bruce had a sense of humor, albeit incredibly dry, had been one of Danny’s favorite discoveries following the identity reveals.

“Don’t be like that, B.” He complained, stopping on a dime at the edge of a building and spinning around on his heel. He teetered back slightly, his weight wanting to pull him off the edge of the building but his natural defiance of gravity preventing that. “I’ve been dying to meet Gordon.”

His lips quirked up in a smile under his mask. Making death puns was a favorite pastime of any half-dead freak, as Jason would say.

Bruce, of course, had no intention of going back on bringing Orpheus to meet with Commissioner Gordon for the first time, so the two continued on their way to the rooftop of the Gotham City Police Department. Danny would be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that he was more than a little excited to see the Bat-Signal and meet Gordon.

The Police Commissioner was waiting for them by the time they arrived, looking out over the city with a thoughtful expression. He noticed their arrival in record time for a non-vigilante, which spoke to his familiarity with Batman and his presence.

Danny had to restrain himself from waving like a sheepish kid. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and did his best to act aloof and not like he was sneaking furtive glances at the Bat-Signal every five seconds.

“So it’s true, huh?” Gordon said, examining Orpheus up and down. “Thought you said the newest addition to the bunch wasn’t getting involved in the life.”

Danny barked out a laugh before Batman could say anything. “I’ve been running around in spandex long before I met Batman–he didn’t get me involved in anything new.”

Gordon tipped his head to the side, taking in that information and flicking his gaze to Batman. Some sort of silent communication passed between the two, before the quiet of Gotham at night was broken by a soft sigh exhaled by Gordon. “That statement aside, I actually have something for you, Orpheus.”

Perking up, Danny asked, “Huh? What do ya got?”

“I have a message for you.” Gordon said, voice tight as he pulled a pale blue envelope from his coat pocket. “This was put in my office, addressed to you.”

A low grunt came from Bruce–an obvious indication of displeasure at that turn of events. Danny frowned, too. That was incredibly odd. Stepping forward, Danny plucked the envelope from Gordon’s grasp.

It was the size of a greeting card with Orpheus :) written on the back in a messy scrawl. He opened it, careful not to tear the contents inside, and found… a card for a baby shower? It was something you’d give to parents congratulating them on their newborn son. A teddy bear holding blue heart-shaped balloons was on the cover with text printed in blocky, cartoonish letters–Congrats on your bundle of joy!

Hands taking on a slight shake, he opened the card.

In that same scrawl, was a note addressed to him.

Welcome to the family, baby bat. I hope you like music as does the Orpheus of myth. It’s a shame you can’t lead anyone out from the underworld.

Enjoy my welcome gift. :)

“What?” The words slipped from Danny’s lip before he was aware of them, the bewilderment and anxiety budding in his core. Bruce took the card from him and read it as well, face stony underneath the cowl.

A welcome gift? From who? Certainly it couldn’t be–

As the realization hit, it was as if a bucket of ice was dumped over his head.

That one victim that he and Signal had been investigating worked in event security, and Gotham was buzzing with excitement over a Dumpty Humpty concert happening that night.

The Joker was going to strike the concert.

The panic bubbled up and his head snapped over to Bruce. “The Joker–that concert–he’s going to hurt people. We have to–”

His frantic rambling was cut off by the distinct noise of a phone ringing, which Gordon hastily dug from a pocket and answered with a sharp, “Commissioner Gordon.”

Oracle’s voice came through the comms link moments later, “Joker’s back. He released a new batch of the fear venom at a concert. Thousands of people have been dosed with it.”

Danny’s heart fell, but there was no enjoyment to be had in that freefall.

Looking back, Danny remembered little of what happened at the concert.

He and Bruce arrived on the scene, meeting up with the Bats besides Barbara and Tim. Danny took his orders and shut down mentally. They had to incapacitate everyone affected by the fear venom, but the short time between the initial dosing of the crowd and their arrival meant that many had already died.

His mind felt detached from his body and everything was fuzzy and far away. Danny was aware of going through the motions of fighting the affected and helping get other civilians to safety. Every dead, broken, or bruised body he saw barely registered as the body of a person in the moment. Even those affected by Joker’s fear venom barely registered as people.

Danny knew if his mind made that simple connection, that he’d shut down completely–that couldn’t happen. He had to help. To save people. Even if his chest was tight and his mind faraway and that slimy, alien sensation in his core surged periodically. Even if Danny wasn’t all there, he still had to help.

Danny didn’t know who he was if he couldn’t be of any help to others, so his body went through the motions when his mind couldn’t.

In the end, they were only able to save a fraction of the concert attendees.

A very small number had managed to come out of the Joker’s attack unscathed and unaffected, but an even smaller number survived the ensuing panic and chaos.

It was yet to be seen if those affected by the fear venom and carted off to hospitals across Gotham would ever wake up to be themselves again.

Being paired with Bruce for the night, they were the last to leave the scene. Danny had lurked in the background while Bruce discussed things with Gordon and some other officers in a low, growling tone. He didn’t care to listen in, as his mind slowly drifted back to his body.

Danny was aware first of the wind on his cheeks and second of the scent of sweat heavy in the air. When Bruce finally seemed satisfied, he turned back to Danny and made a motion that they’d be leaving. The return to the Bat Cave was silent–neither Bruce nor Danny wanted to open their mouths in fear that what came out would make the tense air worse. They were the last back to the Cave, entering in to the sounds of the rest of the family bickering and worrying about the events of the night.

Stephanie’s voice was clear but tight, “Now everyone is going to know about Joker’s newest endeavor.”

“We’ll have to work twice as hard as before to get this under control and solved.” Duke responded.

Damian tutted, “You say that as if we weren’t taking the threat seriously enough until now.”

“Maybe we weren’t.” Tim considered, spinning in a chair by one of the computer setups. His face was upturned to stare at the ceiling, expression carefully neutral. He hadn’t been back in the field since being injured weeks prior, and Danny couldn’t imagine the what-ifs running through his adopted brother's head.

“Regardless,” Bruce cut in. He pulled the cowl off and ran a hand through his dark locks while trying to hide the stormy look in his eyes. “Time is of the essence. People will begin to panic after tonight.”

Danny listened in silence. Their worries and concerns wrapped around him, suffocating him. The card Joker had left him was tucked away in his jacket, all but burning a hole into a pocket. He tugged it out, glancing down at it for a brief moment.

Was this his fault?

Danny couldn’t help but wonder if the Joker would have been so inclined to tip his hand this early if Orpheus hadn’t been around to pique the bastard’s interest.

His fingers tightened around the card, as he brought it up to clutch to his chest.

Welcome to the family.

If he had kept his identity as Orpheus from them all and kept his distance, then would this have happened?

A gift, the Joker called it.

Hundreds–no, thousands–dead and Danny was in the middle of the carnage.

“Danny? Earth to Danny?” Steph was saying, but her voice was fuzzy and distant in Danny’s mind. He barely registered her reaching out until it became clear she was reaching for the card from the Joker. That snapped him out of his fugue.

“Get away from me.” He spat, turning away slightly and taking a step backwards to put some distance between them. “A-all of you need to get away.”

Jason was the first to speak despite the shocked air that sparked around the family. “Why would we need to do that?”

No matter how he fought them back, tears sprung to the corners of Danny’s eyes. They rolled down his face, hot and angry, and the pathetic feeling piled on top of the already wobbling tower of emotion.

“I just–I just cause death and destruction wherever I go. Whatever I touch–it gets ruined.” The words were like bile. Danny needed them out, because that was the truth–

Danny didn’t need to be Dan to ruin the world.

Danny does it just fine, too.

“Oh, Danny,” Stephanie breathed out. “None of this is your fault.”

“Like hell it isn’t!” He snapped, trying to take a step back in case she got any closer. He stumbled and slipped, falling flat on his ass. The tears wouldn’t stop and the patheticness and humiliation thundered in his head. A hiccuping sob was drawn from him with the words, “Everything around me gets ruined.”

Why? Was Danny just fundamentally that broken that he couldn’t help but break everything nearby? Was he so toxic and poisonous that the venom had no choice but to seep out? What fundamental flaw of Danny caused him to be the center of tragedy after tragedy?

Through the tears, he could see Stephanie step back and whisper something to Jason–something his sensitive hearing should have been able to pick up, but his mind was scrambling to pull his broken pieces back together. Jason nodded, then closed the gap between himself and Danny in a few, long strides.

Dropping to his knees, he settled a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Kid, you aren’t some monster or fuckup or whatever else your head is trying to convince you is true.” There was an uncharacteristic gentleness to his voice, tone stripped of the usual airy and aloof nature. This was Jason, lowering his walls to show genuine care, and that made him cry harder.

His shoulders shook with the effort, and his face was sticky and wet. There was no way he’d live down this childish tantrum to any of the Bats–they were probably regretting bringing Orpheus into the fold already.

Jason, almost as if he could overhear Danny’s spiraling thoughts, sighed and tugged him into a hug. One of the older man’s hands cradled the back of Danny’s head and the other snaked around his waist. Danny knew that he could easily overpower a human to escape if he wanted to, but he so desperately craved this contact at the moment.

He wanted to believe Jason–he really did. No matter how selfish it was to throw himself into the proffered comfort, Danny decided to lean into the touch. He tucked his head into the crook of Jason’s neck and let himself cry.

“I’m sorry.” Danny sobbed, unsure of what he was apologizing for besides himself.

“Let it out, kid.” Jason mumbled, voice rumbling in his chest. “Let it all out now, and we can think about picking up the pieces later.”

Chapter Text

Danny was drifting—restless and lost in his own dreams. All around him was the swirling green of the Ghost Zone and the yellow of that something else. He jerked his head to the side at the sound of a voice.

“Why do you deny your purpose?”

There was no one around him. The voice was rumbling from his own core like a purr.

Pressing a hand to his chest, Danny took a stuttering breath. “I–I don’t want this. I don’t want my purpose to be all this death and destruction.”

“Hush child,” it murmured. “This only happened because you didn’t take a stronger stance and firmer action before.”

His brow furrowed—he didn’t know what he could be doing differently. He was a vigilante, doing what he could. Maybe he was pretending to be a powerless human as Orpheus, but he didn’t need powers to do the right thing. Batman didn’t.

Continuing to drift, he found himself approaching one of the many purple, floating islands that the Ghost Zone had the offer. He landed on it, falling softly to his knees to peer into the pool of water that dominated the land mass.

The reflection of his ghost half stared back—tired and weary. Nothing new. Nothing special.

He sighed and began to turn away, when there was a flash in his peripheral vision. Glancing back to the reflective surface of the water, he could see now that his face had changed. Instead of the exhausted and beaten down half-ghost was an expression of smug triumph. What truly caught his attention was the flaming crown floating over his head.

Danny jumped back with a gasp. “I–I don’t want that.”

The voice in his core surged in anger. “It’s not about what you want, it’s—”

“Now, what dreadful nightmare do we have here?”

The second voice rumbled in the air around Danny, familiar and heavy. A cool wind blew past Danny, and when he looked up the green of the Ghost Zone’s sky was swirled with blues and purples. Pulling from the sky was a starry form, amorphous and filling his vision. It took a few moments to register the forming ghost as Nocturn—a once enemy and the Ancient of Dreams.

“What are you doing here?” Danny asked, tension pulling his back straight as a rod. Last he had seen Nocturn was his attempt to take over Amity Park.

Nocturn’s solid red gaze regarded him coolly. “I have reason to speak with you, so I saw fit to find you in your dreaming world.”

“I’m dreaming?” Danny frowned.

Nocturn didn’t respond to the question. Instead, he drew his face close to Danny’s. “Have you heard of the humans who dream awake?”

He blinked, tipping his head to the side in confusion. Vague as it may be, the description stirred something in Danny’s gut. It was almost like… “Are you referring to what happened in Gotham?”

Nocturn hummed, pulling away. “Correct, and I need you to investigate this matter. I cannot stand by this mortal perversion to the nature of dreams. Be as it may, you have bested me like no other has in millenia, and thus I defer to you on this matter.” With a gesture, he continued, “I’ll even consider myself in your debt should you agree to help.”

It wasn’t even a question for Danny.

“Of course.”

“There’s a plant grown in the furthest reaches of the Infinite Realms that has a similar effect—trapping one in a state of waking slumber—but no mortal should know of it. Datura phantasmatum.” Nocturn said and, with a gesture, produced a hazy image of a pale white flower.

Danny didn’t recognize it despite years absorbing knowledge of plants from Sam. “Well, if anyone knows anything about weird plants, that’d be Poison Ivy.”

“Hm, the mortal child of The Green? Very well, you have your task, and I leave you to it.”

And with that, Danny woke up.

Trying to get contact with Poison Ivy was slow progress. She was, to his knowledge, out of Arkham but lying low somewhere in Gotham. Of course, it would be much easier to find her if he bothered bringing the matter to the rest of the Bats. Danny hesitated, however.

After his outburst following the concert, he got the crawling sensation that they were all treating him pitiably like he was made out of glass. That was without getting into the fact that they would question where Danny got this lead from, and he wasn’t quite ready to let them know anything close to his weird dreams or his existence as a halfa. It just… wasn’t something they needed to know. He didn’t want to cause waves and risk his fragile status in the family with those revelations. If the New Year came without any progress, Danny promised himself that he would reluctantly approach Bruce and Barbara for help.

So, Danny sat on this knowledge and watched as the investigation made little progress as December passed them all by. The weather turned decidedly more towards winter, and he reveled in the cold and snow.

It took a decent amount of begging, but the family eventually relented and toned down their plans for his Christmas Eve birthday. Dinner and gifts was all the fuss Danny allowed them to make, even if he complained that the Bats really didn’t need to give him both birthday and Christmas presents.

He climbed the stairs after his birthday dinner slowly, a warmth settled in his stomach from good food and good company. It had been a nice night—the sort to melt away most of Danny’s worries and send them to the recesses of his mind. Opening the door to his bedroom, he was surprised to see something out of place on his bed. Danny was certain that Alfred hadn’t beat him upstairs to lug up the absurd number of gifts his adopted siblings gave him, so it couldn’t be that.

Caution tingled in his fingertips, as he approached the box on his bed. It was a long, narrow box, matte black in color and tied with a faintly glowing white ribbon. It pinged as ghostly in nature to Danny, but familiar and comforting in a way that made him subconsciously relax. Whoever left this on his bed was a friend.

With one hand, Danny pulled on the ribbon to undo it and lifted the lid off of the box. Nestled on top of tissue paper was a card.

A gift for our favorite Phantom from allies and friends.

Yours,

Frostbite, Pandora, Dorathea, and Clockwork

His eyes traced over the familiar tight, looping script of Frostbite and the signed names at the bottom. There was a subtle emotional signature attached to the card—like a warm hug at the end of a difficult day. He mentally reached out to brush against that ecto-signature and leaned into it. There was the smell of fresh snow and damp fur, of figs and wine, of incense and perfume, and of metallic clockwork and old parchment all intermingling yet distinct. These four ghosts were mentors, allies, and friends. He wasn’t sure whether this was a birthday gift or a Christmas truce gift, but that didn’t quite matter to him. What mattered is that they tried at all.

Danny set the card to the side, making a note to put it somewhere as a keepsake, and pushed away the tissue paper to reveal the gift inside the box.

He blinked and then blinked again.

It was a—

Sword?

A finely crafted longsword was nestled onto a cushion. The hilt was pitch black wrapped leather and the blade a pearlescent white that glinted rainbow as the light caught it. The guard seemed to be made out of obsidian if Danny had to guess from the smooth, glass-like surface and had a glowing neon green gem set into the center with 13 small diamonds encircling it.

It was a beautiful sword, Danny had to admit despite not knowing much about traditional weaponry. That it was being gifted to him confused him, however. A gift solely from Dora he could get—she had been wanting to knight him ever since he helped free her realm from her brother—but the inclusion of the others made him scratch his head.

He reached back over for the card, turning it over in hopes that the back had further explanation.

You’re to start weekly sword lessons with Fright Knight in Dorathea’s kingdom.

So much for explanations. Thanks, Frostbite.

“What’s that?”

Danny jumped at the voice and whirled around to see Duke and Damnian standing in front of his open door. It was Duke that had spoken, and Damian had a look of thinly veiled suspicion as he glared at the box on Danny’s bed, as if the unknown object inside was threatening his adoptive brother.

“A gift from some ghost friends, I guess.” Danny replied with a shrug, sitting down on the edge of the bed and gesturing for the two to come in if they wanted.

“Ghost friends?” Damian asked, voice wary. “You don’t talk about ghosts very often.”

Danny sighed. “I don’t, but I guess I just keep that part of my life separate from the manor.” He tossed a glance at the sword in the box. “Usually.”

“Well, what is it?” Duke pressed again, the curiosity getting the better of him as the two entered Danny’s bedroom.

“Uhhh,” Danny intoned then paused and frowned. “A sword? I guess.”

“A sword?” Damian perked up and walked over to the bed. He peered into the box, an appraising gleam in his eye. “Can I?” He asked.

Danny nodded and Damian lifted the sword out of the box, feeling the heft of the blade. He stepped back several paces and gave the sword some experimental swings. His face was thoughtful, expression almost soft in his enjoyment of testing the weapon. That made Danny chuckle a bit under his breath. Leave it to the demon brat Damian to be moved by the beauty of a sword of all things.

Then, Damian nodded and placed the sword back on its cushion in the box. “It’s a fine blade,” he commented. “Crafted by a master, no doubt. It may not be my particular style of blade, but I can admire it nonetheless.”

“Glad the sword has your approval,” Duke teased.

“Yes, what would we do without swordmaster Damian to let me know if I got a good gift or not.” Danny joined in.

Damian turned his head to hide the color on his cheeks. “Tt, I was just saying.”

Danny grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “It’s okay Dami, we both know swords are your one true love.”

“Why’d your friends get you a sword, though?” Duke asked, peering into the box at the sword. “Looks fit for a medieval knight.”

Shrugging, Danny simply said, “Dunno.”

“Fit for a knight?” Damian scoffed. “No, this sword is more like one made for a king.”

“A king?” Danny echoed, gut turning uncomfortably as he remembered the dream that Nocturn found him in a few weeks ago.

Damian gave a nod. “While it may be crafted to do well in battle, its obvious primary function is to be ornamental in nature.”

Danny twisted his body to turn towards the box and gingerly lifted the sword out, one hand under the blade and on wrapped around the hilt. Light glinted off the blade, and for the briefest of moments Danny could see his own reflection amidst the rainbow hues.

What he saw, however, was not his human face but that same, haunting image of Phantom with a flaming crown and cold eyes.

Chapter Text

On New Year’s Eve, Danny decided to take Damian out to Gotham city’s public zoo. The weather was decidedly nicer than it had any right to be in the middle of winter. The sun was shining and there was a warm breeze, so he was able to convince Damian despite all the snow and slush. Winter rarely bothered Danny anymore with his cold core, but Damian was particular about the weather. Some of the other Wayne kids tried to muscle in on the zoo outing, but a withering glare from Danny set them right. He just wanted to take his younger adopted brother out on a nice, quiet zoo trip.

The two strolled down the busy walkways of the zoo, ignoring the staring and whispering that followed any Wayne anywhere. It was easy enough to tune out and ignore, absorbed in their own world of chattering about animals and the finer points of zoo ethics and management. Apparently, the Penguin was no small donor to the public zoo such that even his name was on a bench somewhere. Damian mentioned this offhand before detailing the Wayne family’s own charitable donations to the zoo at his behest.

Danny had choked a bit when he heard how many zeroes were on the checks Bruce wrote Gotham city zoo every year. He’d never get used to the vastness of the Wayne fortune. But Damian, without even realizing there was an issue with that, continued on detailing how the zoo's careful ethical practices in maintaining quality of life for the animals and how they supported wild populations of endangered animals.

It was by complete coincidence that they found someone Danny had been looking for the past few weeks. Had Danny not looked up instinctively at hearing a shrill peel of laughter, he would have missed the two women by the hyena exhibit. The laughing woman was short and blonde, the ends of her hair tinted blue and red. She was relatively unremarkable besides a bold face of makeup, but next to her was a tall redhead with vibrant green eyes. What was striking about the taller woman was the feel she had about her. It was unlike a ghost’s signature, but stood out to Danny in a similar way. It felt like sunshine and damp moss. He searched for the title that Nocturn had used—the Green, maybe? If anything would feel like a cosmic force of the universe that connected all plant life, then this would be that feeling Danny guessed.

Damian, noticing Danny’s distraction, followed his gaze and scoffed.

Danny began to ask, “Is that—?”

“Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn? Certainly.” Damian cut in.

“They don’t seem to be bothering anyone.” Danny said uncertainly, hoping that Damian wouldn’t want to do anything rash and ruin this chance for him.

Damian gave a shrug. “You’re correct about that. I see no reason to ruin our day. Besides, Father would be irate to hear we did anything without his order.”

Danny raised an eyebrow, sensing that there were stories behind that last comment. He wouldn’t put it beneath Damian to run headfirst into things without any backup given Damian’s level of skill and confidence in that skill. Danny didn’t press, however.

Instead he steered Damian away from the hyena exhibit and back towards the nearby reptile house. While doing so, he subtly split off an invisible duplicate to shadow the two women. He felt a bit bad about stalking the two, but there was no way he could approach Poison Ivy in person about the plant Nocturn informed him of.

Maintaining the duplicate so far away for so long gave Danny a splitting headache that was hard to smile through and ignore, but he did his best for the sake of Damian enjoying the rest of his day at the zoo. Given Damian’s astute sense of observation, he didn’t think that he would do a good enough job hiding that to be totally in the clear, but Damian didn’t comment on it beyond a few side glances.

They ended their day as all zoo days should end at the gift shop, browsing through the selection of stuffed animals that they had on offer. Damian was holding a small stuffed okapi—some strange animal that the younger boy had earlier informed Danny was the only close relative of giraffes. He smiled despite the worsening migraine, watching Damian carefully inspect the plush animal for accuracy. Damian’s intensity was quite endearing whenever he focused it on something less violent.

Eventually, Damian nodded and made his way to the checkout counter with the stuffed okapi pressed against his chest. They paid for it and left, meeting Alfred in the parking lot where he had the car idling. Danny tuned out the small talk that Alfred engaged Damian in and, pressing his back and head against the seat of the car, focused on his duplicate.

The duplicate had followed Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn to an area of the city that Danny had not yet been to, as it was mostly residential there with few landmarks to draw his attention. He made note of the location and dismissed the duplicate, wincing at the sudden headrush of information that flooded his senses. Ugh, he really needed to work on reintegrating duplicates.

He leaned forward in his seat and asked Alfred to drop him off at a game cafe, citing that he wanted to spend some time playing games and not be bombarded by his adopted siblings. Damian had little interest in video games, so he didn’t request to come along, but rather thanked Danny for the time spent at the Zoo with a genuine softness to his expression.

Danny ruffled Damian’s hair much to the younger teen’s chagrin and hopped out of the car, waiting for it to turn the corner before he stepped into an alley and transformed into Phantom. It was a short flight to the apartment building that his duplicate had followed Poison Ivy to. It took a few minutes to find a spot to transform back that were out of sight of security cameras on buildings—this neighborhood was particularly keen on keeping an eye out for trouble, it seemed. Odd then that two villains—ex-villains?—would settle down there. But, who was Danny to judge?

The other Bats had gotten Danny into the habit of carrying around an extra mask with him when he went out as a civilian, so he carefully made sure that was secured before approaching the apartment building. The front door was locked and required him to buzz the apartment number, which Danny cursed at under his breath.

Glancing over the list of apartments and names, he eventually found apartment 411 for a P. Isley and H. Quinzel. Easy enough.

Danny shrugged and pressed the button next to their names. After a few moments, the speaker crackled to life with a, “Hello?”

“Hi, uh,” Danny sputtered and then stopped. He didn’t think this far ahead. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Yeah, It’s Orpheus. We need to talk.”

“We haven’t done anything wrong, so run along baby bat.”

He wasn’t sure which of the two was speaking, but her voice was low and even with the words.

“I’m not here to start a fight. I need to ask about a Datura phantasmatum.”

A long pause. Then, “Come in. Quickly.”

The door buzzed and unlocked, so Danny quickly headed in and up the stairs to their apartment on the fourth floor. By the time he ascended the staircase, Poison Ivy was already standing in the doorway, face drawn and expression serious. Wordlessly, she stepped aside and held the door open for him to enter their apartment.

Danny entered what seemed to be a one bedroom apartment covered in various potted plants from wall to ceiling. He was so fixated on taking in the sheer quantity of plants, that he almost didn’t notice that on the couch were two hyenas with collars. Startling at that, he heard a high pitched laugh coming from the bedroom. Harley Quin popped her head into the living room, examining Danny with a critical eye but a smile on her face.

“Ahh, he’s cute like a little puppy.” She giggled.

Poison Ivy sighed in a way that was tired but fond. “You can’t steal Bat’s kid.”

“Says who?” She asked, as she fully stepped into the living room and plopped herself on the armrest of the couch.

“Says me. We don’t need him pissed at us again” Poison Ivy said then turned her focus back to Danny. “Do you want any tea?”

He blinked, surprised at the offer. “Uh, I don’t drink a lot of tea, but sure?” It wasn’t like it’d be poisoned.

…Right?

Poison Ivy nodded and moved into the kitchen, setting a kettle on the stove before spending a minute or two perusing a cabinet to decide on a suitable tea. She methodically prepared some sort of floral smelling tea for the three of them, her expression almost serene as she did so. Harley Quinn was humming a faint tune, one hand lazily petting one of the hyenas.

Danny was left to awkwardly stand in their living room, acutely aware of Harley Quinn’s attention on him.

Eventually, she said, “You can sit at the kitchen table, ya know?”

“Oh.” Danny intoned, then glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Poison Ivy was pouring tea from a pot into three delicate porcelain cups.

Cautious, he picked a chair at the table and slid into it. His posture was stiff and uncomfortable—it wasn’t easy to relax when in the home of two women who should be his enemies by all rights.

Poison Ivy set a tray down on the table, gesturing for Danny to grab a teacup. She then sat down and took one for herself. Harley Quinn jumped up from her spot and joined them.

“Sooooo…” Harley Quinn dragged out in a drawl.

“So, speak, baby bat. How did you hear about that flower? It’s something not even the most dedicated botanists know about usually.”

That made sense. Nocturn had said that the flower only grew in the Ghost Zone, afterall. Still, Danny ventured to ask, “Why not?”

Poison Ivy pursed her lips. “It’s a flower from the realms of the dead.”

“Oh!” Harley Quinn straightened up, “His name is Orpheus.” She said as if that explained everything.

“Yeah, that.” Danny responded.

Poison Ivy looked at Danny, scrutinizing. Then, she looked at Harley Quinn and her face relaxed. “I’ll tell you what I know if you promise to help us.”

He furrowed his brow. They were in some sort of trouble? Danny wasn’t the sort to deny help to someone in need, regardless of their past actions, so he nodded. “Of course,” he told her.

“The Joker came to me and asked me how to cultivate this plant. I shut him down, but he threatened to kill Harley if I didn’t.” Poison Ivy’s voice was quiet. Regretful, almost, as she set the teacup down with a slight click. “I didn’t want to be a part of his plans, but I couldn’t put Harley in danger.”

Harley Quinn was silent and continued to sip on her tea.

“Blackmail?” Danny asked, gut churning uncomfortably. He was conflicted over Poison Ivy’s apparent involvement in what the Joker had done, but he could understand wanting to protect someone that you loved.

“I refused to grow the flowers myself, but I did tell him how to cultivate them in this world.” She continued.

He leaned forward. “How do you do that?”

“Absent of the energy of the realm of the dead, the flowers can only come to bloom when they are in an area where they are exposed to enough death—be it the death of plants, animals, or people.”

That would certainly narrow down the search for where the Joker was continuing to produce and distribute his fear venom. Barbara could make use of that information, and focus her search around places like slaughterhouses or hospices.

“Is there anything else?”

Poison Ivy shook her head. “I gave him soil, light, and water requirements. I don’t think that’d help you though.”

Danny pushed his chair out and moved to stand.

Harley Quinn held a hand up to catch his attention. “A moment.” She said, voice uncharacteristically smooth. Then, seeing him pause, she continued, “I’m disappointed in Bats to see him getting more children involved in his games.”

Rubbing at his forehead, Danny sighed. “I don’t need to listen to this. Besides, I was involved before I met him.”

“So, maybe it’s not Batman that failed you and pushed you down this path, but someone failed you along the way to make you think this lifestyle was worth it.” Her gaze was keen and piercing. “There’s countless other solutions to the problems plaguing the world rather than dressing up in spandex and running across rooftops.”

Anger bubbled up in Danny’s chest. His next words came out tasting like bile, “The only person who failed me was myself.”

Without waiting to hear another word, he stood and fled.

Danny had meant to tell the Bats what he had learned from Poison Ivy, but apparently they were taking the night off as a family for New Year’s Eve. There was a carnival on the pier with games, rides, other attractions, and fireworks at midnight. He had gotten home from his outing to Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy’s apartment and immediately been dragged into a car with complaints of how they had been waiting on him. Danny didn’t have a chance to get a word in edgewise with all of the commotion of the entire extended Bat family going out together.

So, he uncomfortable sat on the information he had learned and promised himself he’d bring it up before patrol tomorrow. He’d probably receive a scolding for not sharing it sooner, but Danny didn’t want to be the one to ruin the New Year’s Eve plans by sending Bruce into Batman mode.

Danny ended up grouped with Duke and Steph, the three of them laden with carnival food and tickets for games. The unease and anger from the day’s earlier conversation with Harley Quinn hadn’t entirely left him, but he still was able to smile and laugh along with his friend and adoptive brother. The two stopped in front of a funhouse mirror building while Danny kept walking forward.

Duke looked at it, exasperated. “No way, Steph.”

“What? C’mon, it’s stupid and fun!” She complained, voice raising in volume to be heard over the din of the crowd.

“It’s a waste of tickets.” Duke said, examining the sign. “Five tickets? Get real.”

Steph also glanced at the sign. “Ugh, that is a lot.”

“Could always get more tickets.” Danny said with a shrug, turning around to look at the two of them.

Something caught his eye beyond the sign. Along the sides of the building were rat traps—both spring traps and those big black boxes with rat poison inside. He could barely make out the shapes of a dead rat caught in one of the spring traps.

Danny wasn’t sure why that stuck out to him because Gotham’s rat problem was no secret. There was something scratching at the back of his mind as he thought back on the conversation with Poison Ivy. This was the only building he had seen with rat traps.

It was probably nothing, but Danny’s instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong.

“Danny?” Steph asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Huh?”

“You zoned out there,” Duke commented, side-eying him.

“Oh, just remembering something.” He said vaguely. “I think I’m gonna go into the funhouse. You guys can go do something else and meet back in 30 minutes.”

Duke and Steph looked at each other and shrugged. Steph shook her head, “It’s your tickets to waste. Just remember that the ticket booths are only at the entrances, which is a hell of a walk from here.” Her tone of voice suggested she would not accompany him on any walk back to get more tickets if he needed them.

The two gave waves and headed off in the direction of a stand with skee-ball. Danny watched them walk away for a few moments before turning and jogging to the entrance of the funhouse of mirrors. He soon found, however, that a paper sign posted up near the ropes where a line would form declared Attraction Closed. Odd that it wasn’t clearer on the attraction sign closer to the boardwalk that the funhouse was closed.

The gut feeling worsened.

Danny surreptitiously glanced around for any watching employees before he approached the entrance anyways. There was a set of double doors that he was surprised to find was unlocked. He had been expecting to need to find a back entrance to phase through away from prying eyes. Instead, he cautiously placed a hand on the doorknob and turned it.

The door opened, and a yawning dark void awaited.

Apprehensively, Danny stepped in.

The lights snapped on to reveal a hallway of distorted mirrors. However, one was out of place and moved to the side to reveal one of the back passages of the funhouse. Danny walked forward, caution tightening in his chest but not enough to dissuade him from his curiosity.

Slipping past the out of place mirror, he saw that there was a faint glow at the end of the hallway. His eyes adjusted to the light and the source of the glow became clearer.

A single white flower on the ground illuminating a propped open greeting card.

Almost everything screamed at Danny to turn around and walk away. But that vicious sense of curiosity, lack of self preservation, and need to prove himself beckoned him forward. Each step sounded like it thundered in the dreadful silence as he approached the glowing flower. Leaning down, he picked up the greeting card.

Get Well Soon!

He opened it.

It was empty.

Then, there was a crash overhead followed by a hissing sound. His head snapped up to see a pipe split in two, releasing a familiar smelling gas. Fuck! was his only coherent thought as footsteps and awful, cackling laughter filled his hearing.

Danny turned back towards the hallway of mirrors and ran.

Chapter Text

Laughter danced around Danny.

He was dizzy—his head light and his body heavy as he ran through the mirrored hallways of the funhouse. His reflection distorted and warped in his vision, making his head swim with a sense of pervasive wrong. At every turn, Danny could see his own face distorted by the mirrors, and he hated what he saw. The violent hatred and vitriol bubbled inside of him until he, too, started to laugh.

“I was surprised to find out that the babiest of bats could survive my fear venom.”

A voice echoed in Danny’s hearing, tumbling through the hallways doing cartwheels just like his stomach. He felt as if he should know who the voice belonged to, but the name eluded him in the haze. All he knew was that he should be afraid, and so he was.

Danny was so afraid it made his head hurt and his heart hurt and his core hurt.

Everything hurt.

That thought wrenched a sob from Danny, as he ran face first into a mirror. When he backed away, the face staring back at him was cold and angry with cat yellow eyes. “Pathetic.” His reflection spat at him.

Danny spun around and picked a different direction.

The echoing voice continued to taunt him. “I just had to send you a gift to welcome you to our city’s little family of Bats. The big Bat and I practically have shared custody over his little birdies—he gave you the symbol, and I gave you an enemy.”

An enemy? What enemy?

Danny clawed through his thoughts for something coherent, only to be met with a mush of fear and pain and the overwhelming self-loathing that washed over him with each glance of his reflection he caught.

“It’s your fault they’re all dead.”

No.

“If you were better, faster, stronger—they’d be alive.”

No!

Danny screamed and swung at one of the mirrors, his fist impacting over the reflection of his face and the glass crunching beneath it. He could barely feel the shards of mirror slicing into his skin and took no notice of the crimson red that blossomed from his skin.

“You’re such an interesting little birdie. Finding that wretched gardener? Knowing to ask her about the ghost flowers? I wonder…”

His hand hurt like it was being stung by hundreds of bees for some reason, but Danny didn’t look down to see why. He kept running and running and running. With each deadend he reached, he was brought face to face with his own reflection—wide-eyed, wild, and panting.

“Afraid to face the truth?”

“I–I know what’s true!” Danny yelled at his own face, watching it twist with rage.

“Do you? Then you’re afraid to face yourself.”

Danny’s heart dropped into his stomach and he turned, stumbling and falling to the ground. A jolt of pain shot through one of his arms, and he looked to see it smeared with vibrant red blood, flecked with neon green glowing faintly in the dark.

“Giving up so easily?”

His head snapped up at that. No. He refused to give up without a fight. Danny just had to get out this damned maze of mirrors. Getting up, his legs shook under the strain like a baby deer walking for the first time.

“That’s the spirit.”

There was something he could do, wasn’t there? To get out of this building faster? Something was itching under his skin, begging to be let out. The thought wouldn’t come to him though, and he was acutely aware of the heaving of his chest as he struggled for air. Still, something drove him forward.

Step after step was laced with agony and confusion. No longer was he running, but instead bracing himself against one wall of mirrors with his injured hand. It left a streak of blood that Danny took no notice of.

The voices taunting him were momentarily quiet, leaving him alone in this merry-go-round of misery and fear and loathing.

Then…

“Danny?”

This was a new voice, young and boyish. Danny turned and was face-to-face with a teenage boy with black hair wearing a white jumpsuit. This was… no… no…

“Why did you kill me?”

Danny’s mouth went dry. “Did I?”

“You did.” The figure said, voice poisonous.

His vision was swimming. He couldn’t grasp any line of thinking, any train of thought. Any sense of coherency and self had left him

“But—but who am I?”

“You’re Fenton. You’re Orpheus. You’re Wayne. You’re Phantom. But want to know why none of that matters?”

“Why?”

“Because Orpheus looked back.”

Danny turned to look behind him, only to see a flash of metal as something impacted onto his head.

Chapter Text

Danny woke slowly at first, and then all at once as a shock ran through his system. He belatedly realized that a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over his head, and he sat shivering.

In front of him, the Joker loomed with a cheek-splitting smile and shoved a video camera into his face. “Our Orphic hero finally wakes up.”

He moved to swat the camera away, only to notice finally that his arms were tied behind him to a chair. Danny paused to take in the situation fully, shaking his head to clear away the lingering brain fog from being once again dosed with Joker’s fear venom. He was in a warehouse of some sort—empty except for stacks and stacks of wooden crates. The scent of rotting wood and mildew lingered in the air. It was obvious this place hadn’t been used for quite some time.

As coherent thoughts returned to him, Danny remembered duh, he’s half ghost. Grousing at that, he cursed that he hadn’t used his powers in the funhouse to get the hell out. That Joker venom was one hell of a drug, it seemed.

He glanced back over at the Joker. It would be easy to phase out of these bonds and simply leave. He didn’t even have to fight the Joker. There was unlikely to be any anti-ghost technology that could stop him at this point. But…

Danny warily eyed the camera and asked, “What’s with that.” His voice was hoarse and the words painfully clawed out of his throat.

“A live feed direct to the eyes and ears of Gotham’s caped crusaders,” the Joker cheerfully announced. “All while they’re desperately looking for their babiest of bats, of course.”

The Joker spun around with a flourish and placed the video camera on a tripod. After adjusting it for a moment, face one of exaggerated concentration, he then picked something up from a steel side table. Danny’s blood turned to ice in his veins.

It was a fancy golden revolver, almost ostentatious in its ornamentation.

“Let’s play a game.” The Joker said, gaze burning into Danny. He procured a single bullet from a pocket on his jacket and held it up in front of the camera. Then, he placed the bullet in the revolver and spun the chamber before snapping it shut with a flick of his wrist.

Danny knew what was about to happen.

He was fully aware of the implications of this game.

All he could feel though was a sense of eerie calm, the chill of it sweeping over him and leaving his expression neutral. Danny wasn’t afraid of death. He knew what was on the other side.

Just leave. Phase out and leave. He told himself. It doesn’t matter who sees. Just do it. Save your life, idiot.

Danny didn’t move a muscle, though. He simply watched the Joker approach, the heels of his shoes clicking against the stone floor of the warehouse. The clown circled the chair Danny was tied to several times, the barrel of the gun grazing against his cheek occasionally. The metal of it was cold.

“I’m going to give you two names.” The Joker began to explain. “Either you choose one to die, or I shoot.”

He was silent, eyes fixed looking at a spot on the ground.

“So choose… Spoiler or Orphan?”

Danny glanced up. He thought of the two young women he had come to consider like sisters.

Steph turned her head to beam at him. “Is that really all you got?”

Danny rolled his eyes. He was firmly in second place in Mario Kart. Steph, playing Dry Bones, was far ahead of him in the game and had been trouncing him soundly all afternoon. It’d be a lie to say that it wasn’t starting to grate on his nerves, just a teeny bit.

“Awww, is someone a sore loser?” She teased, mischievous glint in her eye.

“Of course not,” he bit out. “I’m the most gracious and accepting loser there ever was. I have awards for loser.”

Steph barked out a laugh, her head tipped back and blonde hair falling around her face. She was always the most radiant when she was laughing, joy alight on her face.

Danny could never hurt Stephanie. But…

He was hiding in a willow tree in the garden overlooking a pond, one leg tucked under him and the other freely dangling. Resting his chin on his knee, he watched the smooth surface of the iced over water. It was one of those days where the apathy snuffed out any sense of joy or even melancholy he could possibly feel. There was nothing except a stark hollowness in his chest.

Footsteps crunching in the snow.

Danny flicked his gaze to the side, lazily searching for the source of the noise. Cass was approaching, her dark eyes searching the garden for him. Most people didn’t look up, Danny figured.

Cass wasn’t most people.

She paused and tilted her head up, chin delicately raising. Every movement was with the grace of not only a trained assassin, but a ballerina. She looked directly at Danny’s hiding spot in the tree. Her face was smooth like porcelain, expression not betraying a hint of upset or even pity. She simply seemed pleased to see him and gave him a firm nod. Then, Cass sat herself down on a bench at the edge of the frozen pond and pulled out a leather bound journal.

The older girl began to write, pen scratching against paper slowly and methodically.

She was great like that—understanding his unspoken needs. The rest of the family was probably worried about his well-being and wanting to find him after his disappearing act following breakfast, but Cass knew that pestering him with pointless chatter and sympathy wouldn’t solve any of his problems. She found him to soothe the anxiety of the others, but politely kept her distance and her words to herself.

The small gesture of Cass’ patient sensitivity and perception caused something in his chest to loosen, and a ghost of a smile formed on his lips.

He could never cause any harm to come to Cass either. Defiance blazed in his chest. “I won’t choose.”

The Joker said nothing except with the press of the gun to his forehead.

The trigger pulled and nothing happened.

Danny let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, but the Joker continued on without pause.

“How exciting!” He gloated. “Now, then, Red Robin or Nightwing?”

Tim caught him as he was returning to the manor from a day of school. Danny startled at the older boy catching his arm, having been on auto pilot and absorbed in listening to his music.

“Can we talk?” Tim asked, voice tight.

Danny, cautious, nodded. He shrugged off his backpack and kicked off his shoes, then followed Tim into one of the living rooms where he threw himself down on a couch. Looking up at Tim, he asked, “Sooo?”

“I wanted to…” Tim trailed off, eyes unfocusing briefly before his gaze sharpened, and he took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize for back when you got shot at that convenience store.”

Confusion bubbled in Danny’s chest. “Huh?”

Tim did a double take. “I—I’m sorry?” It came out as more of a question.

“For what?” Danny asked, tilting his head like a clueless puppy.

“For—for not being able to help you. For failing you. For—”

Danny waved off the rest of his words. “None of that was your fault. You’re okay, Tim. I’m okay.”

Tim nodded, but seemed uncertain still and excused himself.

Danny didn’t even realize until later that night that that was the first time he had outwardly confirmed to any of the Waynes that it had actually been him that got shot that night.

Well, fuck.

Tim took a lot of responsibility for what happened around them onto his shoulders. But Dick…

Danny slammed the manor door shut behind him, relishing in the awful noise such a large door made when thrown back with ghostly strength. He began to stomp up the stairs without bothering to take his shoes off when he heard a low whistle.

“That’s some display.” Dick was on the second floor, elbows resting on the banistering and gaze looking down at Danny. He continued, “Someone must have pissed you off.”

“Yeah, well, big surprise there. People suck.” Danny snapped. He could barely even recall what had put him in such a mood at school anymore. It was all hazy with the boiling rage.

“C’mon, then.” Dick gestured for Danny to follow him in the direction of the home gym.

He wanted to tell Dick to just fuck off, but he swallowed the words down and reluctantly followed. Upon arriving in the gym, Dick made a beeline for the boxing equipment and picked up a pair of strike pads. Dick then waltzed to the center of a large mat and simply said, “Hit me.”

Danny didn’t need to be asked twice.

Dick was a big brother to all of them—even when they didn’t want it. He never faltered in taking care of each of them, and Danny couldn’t spit in the face of that.

“Fuck you,” he ground out, vitriol obvious in his voice.

The barrel of the gun stroked his cheek, and the Joker pulled the trigger again to no avail.

“Stubborn one, aren’t ya?” The Joker purred with delight. In some way, Danny was probably giving the hell-damned clown what he wanted by refusing to choose any of his adoptive family members. “Nightwing… or Signal?”

Duke never gave up on trying to coax Danny into being social at school. Not even when Duke’s own friends grew tired of being dragged along to sit with a stubborn, antisocial asshole. He kept coming to find Danny during their shared lunch period and plopped down right next to him, seemingly unbothered by the fact that his friends had stopped joining the two of them.

Part of Danny did feel bad for it. The other part was… stupidly annoyed.

One day, Danny snapped at Duke as he sat down, “Don’t you have better things to do?”

Duke simply said, “Nope,” and opened up his milk carton to take a long drink from it.

Duke was stubborn like Danny was—persistent and loyal with a resolve of steel. He would never give in to the Joker’s games.

So neither would Danny.

“Go to hell,” he spat instead of choosing between his two brothers.

The Joker shrugged and pulled the trigger. Nothing. With a sigh, he said, “Aren’t you getting tired of this? Why don’t you just choose—Signal or Robin?”

Danny couldn’t help the angry gasp that escaped him.

The two of them had climbed onto the roof, bored of their usual stargazing spot on the balcony. “A lot of the constellations have stories behind them,” Danny mused idly, hand tracing over the shapes of Andromeda.

Damian turned his head from where he lay, curiosity sparking in his gaze. “Tell me, then.”

Danny gave a breathy chuckle. “They aren’t happy stories, Dami.”

“Not all stories have to be happy.” Damian had said simply. “Some stories are happy, some are sad, and some simply are. I still want to hear them all.” A pause. “Especially when they come from you.”

Damian’s understanding of the world was stark from the other Waynes. He had grown up with such a black and white view of things, but was growing wonderfully into his own person as time passed. Even in the months that Danny knew him, he could see Damian blossoming into a bright young man. So much had been kept from him, that Damian just wanted to understand the world.

Danny couldn’t take that chance for Damian to grow up into someone so spectacular from him.

He didn’t speak this time and only shook his head, tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes.

Trigger pull.

Click.

Laughter.

“Fine, fine, fine. Two more rounds at best, so maybe you’ll yield with an easy one: Red Hood or Robin?”

“Help me fix my bike, kid.” Jason had ordered him one day. His tone was such that Danny could deny the request if he really wanted to, but Jason liked to seem tough and no-nonsense.

With an eye roll, Danny agreed and let himself be dragged to the manor’s garages where Jason had commandeered a space for his bike. Whatever Danny had been expecting, it wasn’t for all that was wrong to be missing tires.

“How’d you even get it here?” Danny asked, circling the bike.

“Very carefully,” Jason answered dryly. “Alfred banned me from fixing my bike here until I ‘talk to Bruce’, so we’re getting around the rules.”

He snorted at that. “Okay, fine, but where did the tires go?”

“Eh, some kids jacked them to sell.”

“Why didn’t you stop them?”

Jason had only shrugged at the time, but Danny knew looking back that he hadn’t wanted to speak the truth.

Jason may have a hard exterior and tendency towards violence, but Danny knew he was a good man when it counted. He knew how to make hard choices and live with the consequences. Jason maybe had made some mistakes in his time (okay, a lot of mistakes), but Danny would never call it an easy choice in letting him die just so he could live.

“You have a few more screws loose than I thought if you think that’d be an easy choice.” Danny growled.

The Joker leaned clean, grinning and staring Danny directly in the eye as he pulled the trigger a fifth time.

Nothing.

The gun was pressed against Danny’s forehead. “Round Six, little bat.”

Danny didn’t bother looking at the Joker, didn’t bother expending an ounce of fear for that clown. Instead, he leveled his gaze with the camera lens that had been a silent observer. “I’m not afraid of death. Why do you think I’m called Orpheus? I know what’s on the other side. I’ve walked there.”

“He always fails. Just like you’ll pick a bat to take your place, Orpheus always looks back.”

He smiled a soft, sad smile. A dry chuckle passed his lips. “I’m surprised you don’t get the point of the name. You see for centuries, Orpheus was worshiped by fringe cults for giving them directions in the afterlife. He may have failed himself by looking at Eurydice, but he never failed them. Time and time again, he guided them to the underworld on their final journey. Orpheus’ story was always bigger than himself.”

The Joker, of all things, was silent.

Danny tipped his head to the side and broke eye contact with the video camera to direct his attention to the Joker. “So let’s play your little game. Round Six.”

The Joker obliged. “Who do you choose—Red Hood… or Batman?”

Danny hated crying.

It made him feel pathetic and weak and pointless.

He made a point to not do it.

Sometimes in the dead of night, he couldn’t help the tears that welled up and lolled down his cheeks in thick, wet globs. He thought he was being quiet with his watery, gut wrenching sobs, but either he wasn’t being quiet or Bruce had some sixth sense for this sort of thing.

There was a rap at the door.

“Danny?” Bruce’s soft voice filtered through.

He stilled, thinking for a moment to pretend to be asleep. Then, he sighed, and responded, “Y-yeah?”

“Do you need something?” He asked, voice softer than anyone could imagine Batman's voice could be. “Company? A distraction?... Hot chocolate?”

Danny sniffed, pondering those options. “Hot chocolate would be nice…” His voice trailed off and he found the strength to ask the next part. “A–and some company, maybe.”

“Okay, Danny, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Danny exhaled, slow and low. “Okay, I’ll choose.” He finally said to the camera in the most even of a voice he could manage.

Joker let out a peel of laughter, and the gun left his forehead. “I see even so-called heroes finally break—”

“Guessing wrong, Joker?” He tried to quip weakly. “I choose myself.”

“What an unexpected twist to this tale, isn’t it my dear Bat?” Joker said, addressing the camera. He spun the golden revolver in his hand with a flourish and put it under Danny’s chin this time, forcing the boy to look Joker in the eye. “Any last words?”

Danny turned his gaze to the camera, pretending it was Bruce he was staring at. “I’m sorry, dad.”

The Joker pulled the trigger, and it all.

Went.

Black.

Chapter Text

“Aren’t you tired of it all?” The voice was smooth and slick like water on a rock—one misplaced step would send you tumbling. “Of being used? Betrayed? Tossed aside? Used like a pawn in a game?”

Danny stared at the yawning yellow void around him. This… dream… Why did it keep coming to him? It was always the same calm and eerie voice that came from within rather than from anywhere around him. Always the same sickening yellow.

His stomach turned in knots.

He was tired.

Danny was so tired that he felt it in his bones. It was the kind of weary heaviness that never went away, never fully. Even the good days had him dragging his feet, plastering on a fake smile and quipping the same regurgitated lines he rehearsed to seem normal. It was a dizzying pattern of falling apart at night and putting himself back together in the morning to get out of bed and face the day.

“You don’t have to be used like that any longer. No longer betrayed, no longer cast aside. You won’t be a pawn in a game, but you will be playing the game.” The voice paused before it swelled, thundering inside of him. “We—we can work together.”

Danny closed his eyes against the pounding of his heart, nodded once, and awoke.

He became aware of his surroundings all at once like hitting a brick wall. The cold stone floor and the stickiness of blood matting hair to his face. The sharp metallic tang and the sound of combat—of gunfire and the impact of punches. Sensations crowded his head before the anger surged up and smothered their importance.

Danny was still tied to a chair, although it had fallen over likely with the impact of a gunshot. He didn’t bother to phase through his bonds but rather tore his arms away from his side and relished in the sound of ripping rope. Shakily, he got to his feet, eyes scanning the warehouse and looking for one thing and one thing alone.

The Joker.

As soon as he saw that fucking clown, he rocked back on his heels once and then rocketed himself forward. Gravity was a suggestion to him, afterall, and his top speeds clocked well over 200 miles per hour. He could feel the blazing cold fire of ectoplasm forming around his first without him even beckoning it. His fist connected with the side of the Joker’s face, and a sickening crunch echoed through the warehouse.

“What the—”

“Danny?”

“Fucking hell!”

The Joker’s body crumpled to the ground from the impact, and Danny wasted no time in throwing himself onto the clown and swinging down with another punch. Fury flooded his veins and clouded any rational or coherent thoughts that could possibly hold him back. All he could think about is the sheer, raging hatred that was spilling over. He was barely aware of the hot tears burning tracks down his cheeks.

This man that was cowering underneath him had caused so much destruction and agony for years throughout Gotham. This walking, living, breathing monster killed thousands and called it a welcome gift. This thing tormented him and tried to force him to choose which of his family would live or die and shot him.

Despair, pain, humiliation, and anger. So much anger that Danny could barely breathe because the anger was the easiest thing out of those feelings to let himself feel. He wrapped himself in a cloak of anger and ignored the rest and seethed.

He didn’t know what he was saying, but he knew that words poured from his mouth—vitriolic and poisonous and wrathful.

Something grabbed at him, trying to pull him off of the bloodied form of the Joker. Danny slammed his head back, headbutting whoever it was. It was enough for the Joker to scramble out from under him, though. The clown was crawling away pathetically, smearing trails of blood as he did.

Danny moved to follow when a figure stepped between him and his prey.

Red Hood—Jason.

“Taking a life stains your hands forever, Orpheus.” The altered voice (cold, detached) of Jason came through the helmet.

The tears continued to roll down Danny’s face. “He deserves to die.”

Red Hood tipped his head back to look at Danny through the visor of his helmet. He held up the golden revolver the Joker used earlier, opened the chamber, and placed a single bullet inside. “Good thing my hands are already stained.” He said gravely.

Turning away, he spun the chamber and snapped it shut.

Click.

Click.

Bang.

The gunshot rang clear in Danny’s ears.

No one moved, attention on the form of the Joker.

He did not stir.

Danny stayed rooted in spot, breathing heavily and trying to will the tears to stop. That only served to stoke the upset inside him even more, and he crumbled to the ground with heaving, shaking sobs. When Nightwing went to lift Danny off the ground and carry him, he didn’t fight back. He bonelessly flopped against his oldest adoptive brother’s chest and sobbed.

He sobbed for all of the people that the Joker had killed and for the ways he tormented the Bats over the years and for himself. Danny let himself be held as conversation went on around him, the words uselessly buzzing in his ears. Some sort of agreement was reached, and then the return to the Bat Cave was mostly in silence. No one dared speak and break the spell.

Barbara and Alfred were waiting, red-eyed and quietly speaking with each other until they caught sight of Danny in Dick’s arms. Alfred rushed forward, Barbara wheeling herself quickly behind him.

“H-how?” Alfred gasped out. “How are you still alive?”

Bruce’s voice shook as he spoke, “That’s what I would like to know.”

Danny’s mind blanked of any excuses. He pressed his cheek into Dick’s chest and sighed.

“It–it wasn’t just a blank.” Duke stuttered, “We saw your dead body and the blood—” He cut himself off, choking on the words.

Jason unlatched his helmet and leveled his gaze with Danny. “Tell them.” That caused an uproar as the Bats clambered over each other to berate Jason for apparently knowing something and not sharing. He sighed, and explained a bit flippantly, “It was never mine to tell.”

Dick set Danny down gently, making sure that he could support his weight before stepping away. “Danny?” The older man asked gently.

“Can I have some hot chocolate?” Danny’s voice was small and hoarse.

He felt small.

Alfred agreed and swept out of the Cave, leaving Danny in the center of the rest of the family. His chest was tightening with anxiety. He’d have to tell them something. What if this was it? What if this was where they left him?

What if they abandoned him?

The edges of his vision were spotting with black, and there was a hazy film over the room. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and the black receded. He found a chair to plop himself down in until Alfred returned with a tray of cups and metal carafe. Danny was the first he poured a cup, which he thanked the butler for and began to sip on the drink. It was hot and scalded his tongue, burning down his throat. The sensation grounded him.

Eventually, he began to speak. “I’m alive now because I’m already dead.”

A beat of silence, and then again with everyone talking over each other. Danny held a hand up and the room quieted again.

“Let me explain. I died over two years ago because I got zapped by one of my parents’ inventions. Buuut, I was kept from actually dying during the accident because ectoplasm has great regenerative properties. So, I just kinda sorta exist in a state of both life and death but also neither.”

Jason sighed. “You got worse at explaining this.”

“Wait, so you’re like, Schrödinger's cat?” Tim asked.

“Schrödinger's cat isn’t real.” Damian butted in, looking frustrated with a pinched brow and scowl.

“I… I try not to think too hard about the state of my existence and mortality, but I’m pretty sure I can’t be killed in normal ways after getting shot and coming back. Twice.” Which reminded him that he had a splitting headache and could feel the bullet still lodged in his head. Frowning, Danny turned a hand intangible and reached up to pull the bullet out.

The rest of the Bats stood there in horrified silence for a few moments before Danny realized that what he just did could count as disturbing. A heat flushed through his cheeks in awkward embarrassment.

He pocketed the bullet.

“Why…” Cass attempted to speak up, but her voice petered off.

Steph picked up the line of thought, “If you can do that phase-y thing, then why did you get shot by the Joker?”

Danny frowned.

He had been expecting this question. That question seared in his chest, sinking uncomfortably into his core. Why? Why? As far as Danny knew, being shot in the head would kill him. He could have escaped at any time, so why didn’t he?

Did…

Did Danny want to die?

The thought sent a jolt of terror through him.

He quickly brushed it off and instead shrugged, finding an easy lie, “Fear venom messed with my powers, I think.”

Duke perked up. “So you do have powers?” He didn’t sound surprised.

Had they known the entire time? Danny tightened his grip on the cup of hot chocolate at that thought. He had been worried and agonizing over whether or not they would all accept him, but they just knew. Damned family of detectives—they were more observant than anyone in Amity Park had ever been.

Alfred, off to the sidelines, must have noticed something off with Danny’s continued silence because he straightened himself and stepped forward while clapping his hands twice. “I think everyone needs some rest and time to process the events of the night.” He paused and swept a look over the Bats. “And a shower for you all, really. We can discuss things more tomorrow.”

Grumbling, the collected family began to disperse and filter out of the Bat Cave.

All except Bruce, who stood staring at Danny with his cowl clenched in one fist. “Danny…” He said, slow and low. Danny watched Bruce approach then fall on his knees in front of where he sat, grasping Danny’s hands in his own. “I’m so sorry.”

Danny’s mouth went dry. “O-oh?”

“I told myself I was done dragging children into this lifestyle, yet I allowed you in. Even before I knew it was you, I knew Orpheus was young, and I did nothing.” Bruce’s voice wavered and pitched on the words, as if speaking was terribly painful but he forced himself to do so anyways. “I’ve let you get fatally shot twice on my watch.” Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he said, “You need a father and all you have is me.”

Danny frowned, glancing down at their intertwined hands with concentration. His head felt heavy and slow after everything that had happened, but he knew that what he said next was important. Piecing words together, Danny spoke haltingly, “I didn’t choose to be here, I guess. Didn’t choose to be a Wayne or even a Bat. But I found you all—it wasn’t a choice to think of everyone as family. It just happened. I didn’t choose for you to be my father, but… when I called you Dad, it was because I didn’t want that to go unsaid when I thought I’d die.”

Bruce exhaled, eyes wet with emotion. “I would love nothing more than to be your father. Not just a guardian and not just a mentor.”

Danny threw his arms around Bruce’s neck and allowed himself to be pulled into a tight hug. He melted into the touch, any lingering traces of anger and rage smothered like embers being stomped on. They stayed like that for several minutes before Bruce pulled away, softly telling Danny to wash up and get some rest.

As Bruce walked away, Danny spoke up. “Oh, and dad?”

“Hm?”

“Happy New Year.”

Chapter Text

Things settled down quickly after the death of the Joker. They still had to track down the production sites and clear them out, but they were easier for Barbara to find with the information Danny had gotten from Poison Ivy. It was soon that things faded into a new normal—school, patrol, and time spent with the family. It should have been nice.

It really should have.

Danny was restless and felt on edge constantly since being held captive by the Joker. The strange dreams returned stronger than before. He never felt rested after that hazy dream of colors and voices, so he was irritable and snapped at everything and everyone. More than anything, Danny wanted to simply let himself be happy about his newfound family and his place in it. Nothing stopped the ugly, overwhelming guilt from squirming in his gut though.

He felt slimy. Dirty. Ugly.

Some far flung part of himself was constantly screaming at him when he tried to relax. It was a self loathing that made his chest clench. He didn’t deserve to be happy and comfortable and content. Not when his family and friends and so many others had died leaving him behind. Alone.

(Not alone, not anymore. Danny tried to repeat over and over until he believed it. He never believed it).

Duke was the first person to breach the topic of Danny’s powers after New Year’s Eve.

Danny was wrapped in a blanket, curled up in an armchair in a corner of the manor’s library in the very hope that no one would find and bother him. Duke slipped through the library doors quietly, but Danny still raised his head to look at the soft noise of the door shutting with a click. He sighed seeing his adoptive brother, and then felt bad for the spike of annoyance that drove through him. Stop taking shit for granted, he thought in a treacherous part of his mind.

That train of thought had Danny attempt to perk up some and throw a polite smile in Duke’s direction, hoping it didn’t seem strained. The last thing he wanted was company through his brooding, but he wouldn’t turn Duke away with no reason.

“Hey, Danny.” Duke greeted, flopping over into a matching armchair placed on the other side of a small table.

Danny threw back a, “Hey.”

Duke fidgeted. “Sooo…” He began.

“Sooo?” Danny echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Powers, huh?” He said in an attempt to be casual.

Danny chuckled at the awkward breaching the subject. He hummed, thinking if he’d take pity on a very curious but very uncertain Duke, then said, “You wanna know about my powers? Sure.”

“Oh thank god,” Duke muttered under his breath as he exhaled in relief. “It was so weird being the only person with powers. I’m just dying to get to know more about yours. Wait, shit—”

Danny waved a hand and cut him off, “Death puns are fine, dude. I’m, like, so over it—like Jason.”

(Danny wasn’t sure if either him or Jason were truly “over it” or just using gallows humor to seem unaffected).

“Well, uh,” Duke cleared his throat, “We saw you do the phasing through things. And there was green fire? Or something. What else is there?”

“A lot, honestly.” Danny admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Flying, intangibility, and invisibility are the basics, I guess. Any ghost can do those.”

“Any ghost? But you’re not a ghost.” Duke then looked panicked, “Right?”

Danny stared at Duke for a few moments. “Well, kinda. What did you think the ‘I’m dead but also alive but also neither’ thing meant? I’m not… I’m not really human anymore. Maybe not fully a ghost either, but definitely not entirely human.”

“Oh.” Duke shifted in his seat, considering that.

He didn’t give Duke much chance to recover before the bitterness swelled in him, irritation coming bubbling out, “I mean, you’re still human. So, it might be ‘oh cool powers’ for you, but I’m something weird and freaky and different. Like ‘could end up in a lab’ different.”

Duke blinked, a hurt look morphing his face. “I just thought that—”

“Sorry.” Danny cut Duke off, heart clenching uncomfortably. Why did he say that? “I’m just… on edge lately. Dunno why.”

Duke swallowed and gave a strained smile. “You’ve been through a lot, Danny. It’s okay to not be 100%.”

“Yeah, right.” Danny replied blandly. Then, trying to drag the topic back to something less uncomfortable, said, “Powers, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Duke repeated.

“So walk through walls, disappear, and fly. That’s easy. I can also manipulate that green energy you saw—sorry, it’s not fire because I’m more aligned to the cold so making ice and snow and stuff. Enhanced strength and senses, I think. Crazy regenerative factor. Then, uhh… some stuff I don’t use as often, so it’s not worth mentioning.” Danny finished with a shrug.

Duke’s brow peaked. “That’s a lot.”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “Your powers are pretty versatile.”

“Versatile, yeah, but not quite so varied. It all stems from the same light-slash-shadow stuff.”

“I dunno, mine all stem from the dying stuff. I bet if I think real hard about it, it’d all make sense in a weird sort of way. But I don’t really bother with that line of thinking.”

Duke winced at the mention of dying.

Danny looked over at Duke. “Does it make you uncomfortable? That I died?”

“Uncomfortable isn’t the right word,” Duke denied with a shake of his head. “It’s hard to think about people I care about being hurt like that.”

“I find it quite easy.”

Duke balked. “Huh?”

“You said it’s hard to think about people being hurt—but it’s easy, for me. I think about it all the time.” Danny admitted, and he wasn’t lying. The thoughts of his family and friends dying in Amity Park plagued him for months. He also circled around worries and nightmares about his adopted family being hurt. They all lived dangerous lives. It wasn’t hard to think about what could happen. It was easy to imagine what one bad fall or one stray bullet could do. “It’s so easy to die, isn’t it?”

The way Duke was looking at Danny tightened his chest. There were equal parts concern and wariness, as if seeing an emaciated feral cat in obvious need of help but still ready to strike. It took a while for Duke to find his voice and say, “The world is dangerous, but I don’t often think about people dying.”

“You should,” he responded, gaze boring into Duke’s. “What if someone is gone tomorrow? What if today is their last day? Don’t you want to be prepared? Death is a reality. It happens all the time.”

Duke’s hands were curling into fists in his lap and his jaw was tensely set.

Danny continued, emboldened and intoxicated with the moment. “I died when I was 14. I tripped over some wires, hit a button, and was electrocuted. It was a simple accident on an otherwise normal day. Everyone dies—I just happened to get back up. It’s where my powers come from. I’m not going to sugarcoat that fact. I won’t shy away from saying that everyone dies, that everyone—”

“Stop.” Duke’s voice rose through the room. Silence. “Just. Stop. That’s not—this isn’t healthy.”

Danny looked towards the ceiling, eyes tracing a patched over crack. “It’s honest.”

“I can’t just sit here and listen to you—”

He cut in, “Then don’t.”

More silence stretched between the two. Danny didn’t look away from the crack in the ceiling. Not even when he heard movement as Duke got up from his chair and left the room. He didn’t even look over as the door opened and shut with a harsh thud.

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. Not that it had been coming easy at all since the Joker died. But, that particular night had Danny tossing and turning in a cold sweat as sleep continued to elude him. It was made worse when there was the plink plink of rocks being thrown at his window. He laid in bed for a few minutes in an attempt to hope that the rock thrower—probably Jason—gave up and went away.

His luck wasn’t good enough for that, though.

With a groan, he threw his sweat-slicked duvet onto the floor and rose to his feet. Opening his window, he peered down at Jason below with a sigh. “What?”

“Duke talked to me.”

Danny should have just shut his window and drawn the curtains to ignore Jason. Instead, when his adoptive brother called out “C’mon kid”, he begrudgingly climbed through the window and shimmied his way down the side of the manor. Jason had two motorcycle helmets, one tucked under his arm and the other held outstretched. “Duke talked to me,” he said again simply.

Danny groaned.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Be like what?” Danny shot back. “I’m just—it’s just—no one gets it.”

Jason looked at Danny for a long while, then shook the held out helmet emphatically. “We can talk about this elsewhere.”

With a sigh, Danny took the helmet and slipped it over his head, locking it in place. Complacently, he followed Jason to his motorcycle and hopped on after him. Then, they were off. He let himself get lost in the breakneck speed, the wind against his skin, and the moon peeking out through clouds overhead. He let it melt away his worries and anxieties, leaving him hollow.

The ride ended too quickly, and they were at that same overlook they came to months before. The two of them settled, silence stretching between them as Danny tried to pick out constellations despite the cloudy night.

Jason was the first to speak. “I know what it’s like—dying, that is.”

Danny looked over but said nothing.

“The pain that never really fades, not in reality and not in dreams. Of taking that one last breath, knowing it’s your last, and then finding yourself taking another. I was a wreck after I was resurrected. Full of directionless rage and festering pain. It took a long time and a lot of awful decisions for me to settle down.” Jason’s eyes left Danny’s face to turn upwards towards the sky. “I hurt a lot of people. Family included.”

Something itched under Danny’s skin—a petty irritation almost like a splinter. The words sat on the tip of his tongue, and he wondered if he’d speak them into existence.

The simple truth.

He took a deep breath.

“You’re still human, though.”

Jason frowned. “Why does that matter?”

The irritation cracked and bubbled into frustration, the beginnings of anger. “Because you get the right to live, and a lab rat has more rights than me! I’ve spent these past years threatened and reminded that people out there—my parents included—wanted nothing more than to take a scalpel to my chest and poke and prod and figure out everything about how I tick.” Danny tried to unclench his fists when he realized that his nails were gouging lines into the skin of his palm. “Have you ever thought that this maybe being unkillable thing is really dangerous for someone with not a ton of legal rights? Ghosts are worse than pests in the eyes of the government.”

“We wouldn’t let something happen to you. I wouldn’t let that happen,” Jason tried. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

The gesture he made over his chest set Danny on edge. Flashes of memories of dreams flickered in his vision. Ectoplasm and scalpels and cutting and—Jason reaching into his chest and gripping his heart.

Something snapped in Danny.

“Stay away from me!” He shouted, rising to his feet and taking a few unsteady steps back.

“What the hell, Danny?” Jason stood too, but didn’t step forward to meet Danny. “What’s going on?”

His breathing quickened, catching in his throat with a wheeze. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

Everything was fine. Everything should be good. Why did it feel like his world was crumbling down around him now? Why now when everything was fixed and his family knew what he was and accepted it?

Jason’s mind must have gone to a similar place, because when he spoke, he said, “Everyone knows what you are and is okay with it. The Joker is gone, and everything is going back to normal.”

“But I’m not! I’m not gone.” Danny gasped out in between breaths.

Jason’s face blanked for a moment before his eyes widened and mouth drew into a tight line. “Danny—” He began to say, then startled. “Your eyes…”

Danny backed up more before he turned and ran, making a break for the tree line. When he thought he was out of sight of Jason, he transformed into Phantom and began his flight back to the manor. He just wanted to be home, safe and alone in his bedroom. His mind blurred, seized by anxiety and panic and a sense of wrong. Everything was wrong, and no one but him could see it.

Arriving back at the manor, Danny changed back to Fenton and stopped by the kitchen to grab a glass of water to soothe his fraying nerves. He was surprised to hear eerily familiar voices passing through the hallway.

“Mr. Wayne, thank you for taking the chance to speak with us. Your assistance will be most helpful in our investigation.”

Danny peaked his head out into the hallway.

Two men in white suits followed behind Bruce and Alfred. He was horrified to find that he recognized the men. It was Agents O and K from the Guys in White. Before the fear could kick in, a feeling like ice spread through his veins. As the sensation settled, he realized that he wasn’t scared. Not even a little.

Seeing Agents O and K with Bruce and Alfred settled in his chest up against something—something dark and ugly and vile. The two feelings intertwined and eased into an eerie, cold calm. If this was how it was going to be, then fine.

Taking slow sips from his glass of water, Danny waited for the four men to pass out of sight and in the direction of Bruce’s office. When they were gone, he set the glass in the sink, rolled his shoulders back, and meandered upstairs as calm and collected as anyone could be.

Everything was fine.

Chapter Text

Direct Message: Duke to You

Duke: Where are you?

Danny looked down at his phone when it buzzed, paying half attention to the message that came through from his adoptive brother. A glance towards the time told Danny that it was past when he was supposed to be down in the Bat Cave for some quarterly review or whatever it was they had planned to keep everyone on the same page despite their numbers. He hadn’t realized that it had gotten so late since he returned—upon arriving in his bedroom, Danny had shut off the lights and lied down on top of his covers, letting the numb static in his head take over. (Depressive behaviors, Jazz would have informed him once).

With a groan, he rubbed at his forehead with one hand and grabbed his phone with the other.

You: is every1 in the cave?

Duke: Yeah.

Duke: We’re waiting for you.

They were waiting for him. Waiting to do what, Dany wondered darkly, his mind drifting to the appearance of Agents O and K. Did they know? Surely if they knew what the Guys in White were really like, then they wouldn’t be here.

But the alternative was that the great detective Batman was in the dark.

Danny didn’t find that particularly likely despite the way his heart argued and rallied against the notion of betrayal. His thumbs hovered over the screen of his phone, poised to type something but not quite sure what to say. He should just up and leave without telling anyone, but then he thought of all that he owed to the Bats—all they had given him as friends and family. Maybe they deserved a final chance before he accepted the obvious conclusion.

You: ill b down in a sec

He went through the motions of getting out of bed, stretching out his limbs, and heading down to the Cave. By this point, he was keeping his costume down there instead of intangibly shoved into his bedroom wall. He wasn’t certain if he’d ever use it again after the coming conversation, but part of him wished to hang onto it just to hold the memories attached to it.

Shaking himself free of the desire for nostalgia, he entered the Cave, walking down stairs as silent as death in the night.

Bruce was the first to notice him and gave Danny a glance over, his brow furrowing and grip on his removed cowl tightening. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I don’t know—you tell me,” Danny huffed. He stopped at the bottom step and crossed his arms over his chest, eyes not leaving Bruce’s. Before anyone could cut in and speak up, he questioed, “How long have you been in contact with the Guys in White?”

Bruce paused, glancing at Dick and tipping his head to the side. Silent communication passed between the two, causing Danny’s chest to clench. Bruce and Dick and all the Bats with their damned ability to speak without any words. He hated being left in the dark.

“A few weeks.” Bruce finally admitted after a long moment of quiet.

“So you admit it,” Danny said spitefully.

Dick stepped forward. “Admit what?”

“That you’re working with them,” he explained.

Jason, helmet already on, inhaled sharply. His shoulders straightened, and he seemed like a predator ready to pounce in that moment. Despite the tension rippling across his body, he tried to speak calmly, “No, Danny, you have the wrong idea.”

Danny whirled around to face Jason. “Then why hide it from me?”

Steph frowned in Jason’s direction, as if confused by his denial. “We’re helping them with those weird readings, remember, Jay?”

That sent rage prickling up his spine until it ignited in his throat. The words and accusations were hot in his mouth, ready to be spat out like dragon’s fire.

“We aren’t hiding anything. We were going to go over the Guys in White involvement today,” Bruce said, holding a hand up in a placating way.

Jason took another step forward.“Danny, please don’t assume the worst.”

“Assume?” Danny felt tears burning in the corners of his eyes. “You’re all telling me that you’re working with them!”

“I’m confused, what’s the issue here?” Duke asked, glancing between Danny and Jason, “Who are the Guys in White?”

“A paranormal organization,” Bruce answered.

“They’re ghost-hunters,” Danny growled in response.

Dick opened his mouth to say, “No, they’re—”

Danny cut him off, “STOP TRYING TO TRICK ME! You betrayed me! I trusted you, all of you! And you—YOU—”

“Danny—” Bruce attempted to speak up, probably to spin more lies into this web of heartaching betrayal.

Danny glared at him, knowing his gaze must be filled with the most vile of hatred. He didn’t want to listen to anything Bruce had to say anymore. “All I’ve ever done is try to help, but everywhere I turn it just falls apart. I’m done! Done! No more!” He shouted, stomping. As his foot connected with the ground, a pulse of energy radiated out from it and sent those closest to him stumbling. That gave him a wicked thrill of satisfaction.

Calling forth the ghostly energy in his core, Danny transformed into Phantom for the first time in front of what he had once considered in his family. Their expressions took on varying levels of pained surprise, but he paid them no mind.

“I’ll be the one calling the shots. Then, then, I’ll find solid ground,” Danny declared.

He pushed off the ground to hover a few inches above it for a moment, giving one last glance over the Bats.

Cass, quiet and careful with her care—a deadly ballerina with lead on her tongue.

Duke, a stalwart companion and brother—someone who understood the burden of powers and the shadowy perceptions it cast on him.

Damian, young and harsh—a boy who had become a man too fast and found a remnaint of the child he could still be in Danny’s company.

Dick, dependable and kind—the sort you could go to for advice and a laugh at the same time.

Steph, a spitfire with a backbone of steel—someone you would trust never to waver but to take the burden of stability with a smile and a joke.

Jason… who understood above all else. Jason, who he couldn’t look at without flashes of memories of dreams of the man holding his heart in hand. Jason, who cared for Danny so much that the burden of it hurt.

His eyes lingered last on Bruce—someone he had thought he could give the title of dad again after losing everything.

Tearing his gaze away, Danny steeled his resolve and iced over the pain that was blossoming in his heart. He imagined the hurt as flower petals unfurling from a bud, the cold causing them to shrivel and wither into pale, dead things.

“Goodbye,” he said, voice devoid of emotion.

And in a blur of motion, Danny was flying through the ceiling of the Cave towards the ghost portal in his closet.

End of Part III. Wayne

“While seeking revenge, dig two graves—one for yourself.”

-Douglas Horton

Chapter Text

Part IV. Phantom.

Danny didn’t know how long he drifted in the Ghost Zone. The passage of time was meaningless when he was in the depths of his own mind, swimming in a sea of anger and hatred and grief. Every feeling, every thought that plagued him felt like a dagger driven into his gut, spilling bile and viscera. He was hardly aware of his own body, seething as he was, so little things like time passing didn’t register.

It wasn’t until he briefly thought of the meaninglessness of time that a new thought struck him.

Time.

Clockwork.

If Danny went to Clockwork, then he could fix everything. It would all be perfect again, if he could just get Clockwork to listen. The ghost had helped him in the past, afterall, so it wouldn’t be too hard to convince him once again.

Nothing was ever perfect before.

The worlds curled in his mind, breathy and breathless and insistent. He recoiled at the thought. It didn’t matter if his life hadn’t been entirely perfect because it had been his. If he wanted it back, he needed Clockwork’s help. The resolve settled in him, and he became intent on his journey to the Long Now.

Clockwork had to have the answers—if he didn’t, Danny didn’t know what he’d do.

Righting himself in the air, he took in his surroundings to get a bearing on his location. He was relatively close to the Long Now, he realized, and that excited him. His visit to Clockwork’s lair must have already been in the cards, which meant good things for the direction the conversation would take. He let a small smile ghost across his lips for the briefest of moments before rocketing off in the direction of the Long Now.

It wasn’t a long journey, especially not with his thoughts bubbling as they were, and the door to the tower-like lair was propped open to invite him in.

Danny floated inside, making his way to the viewing room where Clockwork would watch various portals through time. He found the other ghost there, back turned and watching images blur across one such screen. His eyes widened when he recognized the viewing point as the destruction of Casper High at the ghost Enchantress’ hands.

A destruction that Danny couldn’t stop.

“Welcome, young Phantom,” Clockwork greeted him without turning to look.

Danny skipped any semblance of a greeting. “Clockwork, I need your help,” he said.

“What? No ‘hello’? No ‘how are you’?” Clockwork turned his head slightly so that Danny could see his profile, smooth and emotionless. “I thought you were a more polite young man than that.”

He stilled.

Something about Clockwork’s tone of voice was off. It was distant and unaffected, much like it had been when they first met—when Danny was planning on cheating on the CAT and Clockwork was tasked with eliminating him. His gaze drifted past the viewing portals and towards the pedestal tucked away in the corner of the room where the Fenton Thermos with his future self sat.

“Let’s try this again,” Clockwork said in a rumble, “Welcome, young Phantom.”

Danny floated down until his boots hit the tiled ground. His own glow dimmed with the unease he felt. “Hi… Clockwork. Um, how are you?” He said, voice suddenly hoarse.

“Unwell,” The other ghost replied. “I am worried of my young protege and the path he has chosen.”

He froze, lips parting slightly as he took that in.

“What do you want, young Phantom?” Clockwork asked, suddenly sounding like thunder booming across the room. “What do you hope to achieve? Do you want to prevent the Waynes from finding out about being a halfa? Go back to prevent the destruction of Casper High? Or do you wish to be sent back to the portal accident, so that you never become a halfa in the first place?”

Tears threatened to overflow, and he clenched his fists to his side. “I don’t know, just help me!” Danny’s voice cracked on the words.

“You don’t want me to help you, you want me to fix things for you.” Clockwork turned now completely, his gaze leveling with Danny’s. “You can’t keep getting second chances.”

"You-you're heartless. You're a monster." Danny breathed out after a long moment.

They were not the words he wanted to say, but they were easier to give voice to than the question 'Am I a monster?'

Clockwork sighed and looked back towards a viewing portal, this time showcasing an image of a haggard Bruce sitting at his computer in the Cave, staring despondent at the screen. “If you think I’m heartless then why are you still here? I won’t bow to your will.”

Nothing was ever perfect before.

But…

You could make it perfect.

“Not now you won’t.”