Chapter Text
“Come on Danny, we're going to be late.” Jazz called while she finished making their lunches for the day. It wasn't anything fancy. A tuna-fish salad sandwich for her and two ham sandwiches for Danny. She rolled a half-a-bag of popcorn into the lunchbox. Since they will be together all day, it would be enough for them to share.
“Danny?” Jazz called again as she turned to put the items back into the fridge. Grabbing a knife on instinct before opening the fridge door. It's been four years since they left their parents' house. She would have thought by now that she would be accustomed to the food in the fridge NOT attacking her. But considering the rough state of the appliance, it's... better to be safe than sorry.
“I'm coming I'm coming... hold on,” Danny grumbled from the back rooms of the apartment. It was a small apartment, but it did have two bedrooms. Jazz made sure it did, but at the cost of the apartment not in as safe of a location as she would have liked.
But that is what happens when you choose to live in Gotham. She could have gone anywhere for college, anywhere at all. Instead, she picked Gotham because she believed it was the safest place for them, as ironic as it may be.
Besides, Gotham wasn't too unusual from Amity Park, however it did take some time to adjust. Jazz's knowledge in self-defense helped prevent most encounters, though most of the time she'd rather let them rob her and run away. Or if Danny was near, they would disappear without a trace. It was a miracle they had only run into the vigilantes in the city a few times. She didn't want them to find out about Danny.
Jazz plucked some water bottles from the fridge. She had filled one with electrolyte water and the other with a knock-off brand of Kool-Aid mixed in with some electrolytes for Danny. The kitchen in the apartment was very small with barely any cabinet or counter space and very little floor space that only one person could fit in at a time. She hated the enclosed space and would have preferred an open concept into the living room, but beggars can't be choosers.
It was rough when they first moved out on their own. She had to delay her dream of college so they could afford a place to live. Danny felt so guilty. Thankfully, she had a lot of money saved and Danny's friends helped where they could.
Vlad found them a year later.
It was tricky, but she did pull some strings. He wasn't as clean with his work as he liked to believe. So Vlad settled for visitation rights, much to Danny's disdain, but Jazz had calculated to weigh the scale in her favor. She always kept a thermos and Fenton Peeler on hand, just in case.
She was glad to have his help but refused to let him pay for most of their things. The last thing she needed was to be indebted to him. Yet, his help did allow them the security to live lives outside of their parents. They wouldn't be able to touch them. She didn't even go by Fenton anymore, and neither did Danny. Danny Fenton was considered legally dead, anyway.
It was best to keep it that way.
Not that their alternative names were well thought out. Jazz smiled, zipped the bag, and walked out of the kitchen. They had argued for weeks over it, Vlad demanding they go by his last name, Masters. They refused, compelling a convincing argument against it. It could have appeared too suggestive if it ever came to light.
Vlad had begrudgingly agreed.
Danny wanted their surname to be Armstrong or Apollo, anything related to space. Jazz, on the other hand, leaned towards something far more common, like Smith or Gray. Danny argued about the change being too obvious. So it took the entire month for them to pick a name, in the end they settled with a coin flip. Jazz had won and chose the dropped suffix of Fenton, Nightingale last minute. She was legally the same Jazz as she was before on paper. So regardless of what she did, her file would her previous name as Jasmine Fenton.
She could keep her grades, awards, and anything she did formerly. All her scholarships and test scores would translate to any college she applied for. They even came up with a more believable story to match the change.
Danny, on the other hand, had to have new papers drafted. Vlad's focus was better reserved for Danny's new identity, it had to be untraceable. However, she DID read over anything he did before it was finalized. She couldn't trust Vlad not to do something shady. She WAS legally Danny's mother now, so she wasn't about to let Vlad exploit a loophole.
Danny finally appeared, he dragged his backpack down the short hallway into the barely bigger living room. His black hair was still scruffy, his eyes were big and blue. He wore his current favorite shirt, red and white with a rocket on it. He was so tiny and cute.
Jazz smiled looking at her little brother, emphasis on little. “Ready to go, Danny?”
Danny shrugged, muttering, “Yeah...”
Despite physically being eight, almost nine, he kept some of his fifth-teen year-old attitude. A mishap with one of their parents' new inventions de-aged him, and unfortunately, it revealed him as a ghost. That night, Jazz had sped off in her car with a five-year old Danny strapped to the seat, stunned and confused, while their parents swore after them that a ghost had taken his place. They were, distraught in their own way.
Four long years had passed since that day, but now everything was finally looking bright. She was about to begin her fourth year at college and was recently hired at the public library as an assistant librarian. Which they were going to be late for.
She double-checked Danny's backpack, giving a soft pinch to Danny's cheek when she was done. Danny hissed in retaliation, but otherwise just shrugged his backpack on. Jazz smiled and led them out the door, checking off her mental list.
She closed the door and locked it with her key. She gave Danny a choice to hold onto her belt loop or the lunch bag before they walked out of the small apartment building that smelled of cat pee and weed. One of the few buildings that didn't have a recent history of a drug bust or prostitution ring in the area, still Jazz was hoping one day she could upgrade again.
But that would have to wait til she became an intern at Arkham. For now, it was home. One they made. Jazz glanced down to see if Danny was still holding onto the lunch bag that was strapped across her shoulder. He was, reluctantly, as he frowned at the sidewalk.
She knew Danny hated being small. She tried to make it easy for him, but it was never easy to go from an overly stressed-out half-dead teen... to the same half-dead teen but in a five year old's-now eight- body. Jazz was surprised that Danny became a mix of his teenage self and his child self that she grew up with.
Jazz partially yearned to analyze all the differences and the effects of one's psyche being returned to a younger self... but this was Danny. Her baby brother, and now her baby. He didn't deserve to have another parent use him like a science experiment. So she kept it to herself and perhaps one or two throw-away thoughts in her diary. It was interesting, but he was worth more.
One day, he'll see it. She hoped. She faced forward through the street, keeping a watch in the corner of her eyes. This wasn't the most pleasant area to walk in, and they had a way to go. Still giving their odds, she preferred to walk, instead of investing in to a car or a bike.. or the bus or train.
They limited their escape routes and bicycles were easily stolen. Gotham stayed in a constant state of developmental hell, much like Amity Park was. The streets were rebuilding constantly, so driving a car or riding the bus would come with a high risk of being late. The subway was a no-go, besides the creeps, she hated the idea of being stuck enclosed with a lot of people with far too many eyes that could spot them before they could escape.
At least with dark alleyways, it was easy for Danny to use his abilities to make a swift get-away, or when Jazz was by herself, it was easier to fight and flee. She was even saved a few times by vigilantes that way. This option saved the most money too- as long as they were able to keep from being mugged.
Speak of the Devil. Only ten minutes into their walk, they were ambushed by thugs. Not a single person even batted an eye as they led the woman and her small “child” into an alley.
Jazz pulled Danny close to her, hands on his shoulders, both side-glancing for a way to escape. Worse comes to worse they'll give the thugs a good ghostly scare, but they hoped for an alternative.
She let the thugs search through their bags while rubbing Danny's shoulder to keep him calm. She knew the boy fuming, itching to fight them.
There were four of them, each equipped with a knife, unknown if any of them concealed a firearm. She wondered how skilled they were with those knives. With how they held them, she could easily kick one of the knives out of their hands and use it.
But Danny... She needed to give him an access point to hide, not that he would. It was best to wait for an opening.
“Not even a cent? Now that can't be right. I bet girly here hides it in her bra.”
Jazz took a step back into the wall, she didn't hide anything in her bra, but she did sew a few secret pockets in her pants to hide her cards and cash. Jasmine cursed internally. She normally would have planted fake money in her lunch bag, but had forgotten after the last mugging.
“I-i don't carry anything in my bra. I was j-just in a rush and didn't think I needed any cash today," She stuttered, pulling Danny closer to her. She had to think.
“I don't believe it until I see it.” One of the men stepped forward. “Out of the way brat, adults need to chat.”
Stall. Danny was tensing up protectively in front of her. Think Jazz, if Danny could be patient a moment longer, then she could grab the offending man by the arm and-
Jazz let out a sigh of relief, one of the few times she was happy to be near the vigilantes. A man in a red helmet dropped down on the thug that was inching towards them. He took a tire iron and smacked one on the right in the head, sending the man to the floor.
The thug on the left lunged to stab Red Hood, who dodged the knife letting it slip past his side, before wrapping an arm around the mugger's, locking it in place. Red Hood grabbed the wrist with his other hand and jerked his arm fast with a bone-cracking snap.
Jazz instinctively covered Danny's eyes, while she watched Red Hood take the crying man and fling him by his broken arm at the last of the thugs who were attempting to run away, knocking them to the ground.
She felt Danny pull her hand off his face. His eyes stared intensely at their hero with his shoulders staying stiff. Red Hood waited for either of the thugs to get up, before grabbing the lunch bag and backpack that dropped on the ground. Jazz stepped over the thug on the ground in front of them, pulling Danny along with her. She knelt to gather their stuff that had fallen out of the bags.
“Thank you.” She gratefully thanked him. She knew the muggers wouldn't have had a chance either way, but it was nice to have the situation handled by someone else.
“You shouldn't be walking alone.”
“Thanks for the advice, but this isn't my first rodeo. I do appreciate the help. It's always scarier when they do this when I'm with Danny.”
“I could have taken them,” Danny muttered, standing behind Jazz's crouching form.
Jazz smiled, knowing Danny could, but should he, was a different story.
Red Hood snorted, “Sure you could kid, but it's better just to run. I'm sure your....”
“Mother,” Jazz answered for him, noticing the vigilante was uncertain of their status. She still was quite young and could easily be mistaken for a teenager.
“Mother wouldn't want you to get hurt.”
Danny glared crossing his arms with a huff. Jasmine reached to ruffle Danny's hair who pulled away with his cheeks still puffed out much like a chipmunk. Jazz stood up taking the bags from Red Hood's hands, handing the backpack to Danny.
“Thank you again, we better get going and uh... let you... do what you need to. Come on, Danny.” Jazz quickly glanced at the thugs on the ground then back at Red Hood with a bright smile, then she turned, gently pushing Danny out of the alleyway.
Danny was reluctant for a moment, eyeing the vigilante up and down, before giving in to his sister's insistence.
