Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Again, this is a prompt fill/continuation of Return to Sender by glow-worms-are-believers on tumblr. Please read it before the fic as it follows directly on from it!

“You’re not the birdy I’m looking for.” The man’s grin fades as he takes in the scene, slumping out of his triumphant stance with a disgruntled moan.

“I’m sorry, Duke, I’m gonna have to call you back. A clown just kicked my door down. For some reason.” Danny says into his phone, before hanging up and dropping it onto the counter next to him, despite Duke’s protests. He’s starting to get the impression that this isn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was. He turns his attention towards the clown. “And you’re not the pizza delivery boy. Or, at least, I hope you’re not. Won’t be ordering from them again if you are.”

“Oh, a comedian? You best stop it, because that’s my job, and you don’t want to get on my bad side more than you already are.”

“Uh-huh, right. You’re J, then?” Danny holds up the card and gives it a little wave. Birds, Bats, and a guy wearing a really terrible halloween costume. Yeah, he’s starting to put a few things together. 

A spark of anger catches in his belly and he takes a sip of his water to quench it. Best get the full story before he does something he might regret. He’s only just gotten to this city, he really doesn’t want to bring down the ire of its protectors already. Fairly sure he's heard something about "No killing" and "No metas" and "overprotective vigilantes, so don't draw attention to yourself, I mean it, Danny" and shit.

The guy doesn’t answer him, but that’s alright, Danny’s pretty sure this whole box was his doing. He’s never going to let Sam know, but he kinda wishes he’d listened more to her 135 slide PowerPoint presentation—“Staying Safe in Gotham: It’s a Good Job You’re Already Dead, Ya Dingbat”—rather than playing Smash or Pass with Tucker whenever a person came up. Honestly, Danny couldn’t really concentrate on anything after Tucker enthusiastically smashed on Man-Bat. 

Come to think of it, that’s probably why Man-Bat is the only one Danny vividly remembers. Why couldn’t Man-Bat be the one to break into his apartment instead, at least he knows his name! Actually, wait, scratch that—it would be so horrifically awkward if they were to ever meet. Danny’s not one to judge, but there’s no way he’d be able to think about anything else.

“Speaking of being on my bad side,” J mumbles, clearly dismissing him and turning to face the door. He scratches at the back of his head with a crowbar that had been tucked away in his trousers. Gross.

A couple of men burst into the room, both armed with automatic rifles and clad in sinister looking clown-masks. Danny has to assume they’re with J even if they haven’t fully committed to the makeup. 

As soon as they cross the threshold, J swings the crowbar down and knocks the first one on the ground. He writhes, clutching at his head, whimpering as his blood splatters all over Danny’s nice new floor. There goes his security deposit.

“Boss?” the other one asks, not doing the sensible thing and running, which is what Danny would have done. Well, maybe not, Danny's never been particularly sensible.

“I thought you said this is where he lived?”

“He does, boss, I swear it! Duke Marlon Thomas is the name on the lease, it must be him!”

“Really?” J laughs, high and loud and very insane. It sets Danny’s teeth on edge. “Because unless he dresses up as a hate crime every day, this isn’t him!”

Well, sure, Danny’s existence is a crime, but it isn’t a hate crime. He’s back to not being entirely sure what’s happening here, but if he were to guess, this Duke Marlon Thomas is a new bird in the Bat’s vigilante nest and J is here to… Danny turns to take in the bird with the broken wings, hanging limply away from the body, feathers all crushed and bent. Well, J certainly isn’t here to make friends, is he?

“I’m sorry, boss, I—”

“I moved in yesterday, your guys are a little behind with their info. What did you want with Duke? I have his number, I could send him a message to say his mail order clown broke his birthday present. I assume that’s what’s happening here, right?” He shrugs and lifts up his phone, fishing for whatever information he can get. “You do balloon animals?”

“Mail order clown? Balloon animals?” J’s red lips stretch into a macabre grin and Danny is, once again, reminded how much he hates clowns. “Yeah, I’d love to use you as a message. At least someone here knows how to be helpful.”

J punctuates his words with several kicks to the downed man. Danny grimaces at the violence, stomach turning. If this is what the guy does to his lackeys, just what did he have in store for Duke?

“So, what’s your name?” Danny interrupts. “Bobo? Wait, no, it begins with a J… Jingles? That’s more Christmas elf, really. Jolly? Jello, you look like a Jello.” 

“Jello?” J stops kicking the poor guy and looks up, confused.

“It’s Jello? Jello the Clown! Good name, really matches your hair. Not gonna lie, hate the aesthetic but kudos to you for sticking to it, I guess.” Danny shrugs again, a congenial smile on his face.

J barks out a laugh, his voice cruel and twisted. “You’re playing a dangerous game, boy, you best remember my name quick.”

“Wait, it’s not Jello?” Danny can’t help but laugh at the affronted look on J’s face. He was right, earlier, Danny really is a comedian. Winding J up is definitely funny. “J… Jester? Jujube? I’m running out of J words. Is it just Jake, is your name Jake? John. Jeffrey! Jeffrey the Clown!”

There’s a brief pause, the only noise J’s panting as he straightens up from beating the poor guy. He slicks his lank, green hair back out of his face and fixes Danny with a grin. Some of his lipstick is smeared over his teeth. Looking at the streaks of blood now decorating his apartment, Danny sure hopes it’s lipstick. Otherwise it’s just nasty. 

“How about this?” J says, all casual and smiles. 

Danny cocks his head to the side and smiles back, humming at him to continue.

J gestures to the goon still standing with his bloody crowbar. Good for him for not running yet, really. That’s professionalism. Idly, Danny wonders just how much money he gets for a gig like this. Whatever the amount, it’s not enough. Gotham really is a different city, huh?

“I’ll have this idiot here tie you up on that chair. I’ll do to you what I was going to do to Gotham’s newest do-gooder, Signal, and when I’m finished…” J wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing sweat and blood across his face. He spits on the floor, keeping eye contact with Danny the whole time. “When I’m finished, I’ll place that little broken bird on your lap and I’ll carve my name into your chest. How about that? Think he’ll get the message then?”

“So what I’m hearing is that it is Jeffrey?” Danny asks, fighting down his own grin.

“Why don’t you just wait and see?”

“Sure! Hey, out of curiosity, what were you planning on doing to Duke?” He keeps his voice light, controlled, but even that is starting to get to the man judging by the flash of anger across his face. Must be used to being feared, he guesses. Sorry, J, but Danny’s seen children scarier than you.

“Show him what it means to join our game, just what exactly he’s getting into. Fight him, beat him, kill him. Take this here crowbar and show his brains to the world.” He taps the crowbar to his chin in mock thought, leaving a thick dab of blood  “Teach him to understand what the Bat’s signal really means, you know?”

“I don’t, sorry.”

“That help always arrives too late. That the good ol’ Bat only ever shows up after I’ve done my business. That you can only count on him to clean up my mess. That I’m going to kill him—you, now, I suppose—and there’s nothing no one can do about it. What do you think, clear enough for our friend Duke now?”

The man laughs again, high and nasally, and Danny turns to put his glass of water on the counter behind him. There’s no amount of water that can quell the raging fire in his belly now. Frost begins to creep around the glass and Jeffrey is really starting to piss him off.

“Do you know how old he is?”

“What does that matter?”

“Humour me. You seem good at that.”

J’s face closes and he leans down to pick up the assault rifle his goon dropped. Poor guy’s not moving, now. He’s just unconscious, Danny can tell, but still. It’s not going to be a pretty recovery.

“Or I could just shoot you now.”

“Or you could just shoot me now.”

J points the gun at the guy on the floor and pulls the trigger.

As the echoes of the shots fade, J cracks into a full-body laugh, clutching onto his stomach and doubling over. 

Danny’s lips curl into a snarl and he has to take a deep breath to calm down. Not yet.

“Children! Teenagers! He thinks he can send kids after me and I won’t fight them? I won’t hurt them? I won’t kill them?”

Danny locks eyes with the other masked goon, trying to motion with them to run away because there’s no way this isn’t going to end in a fight.

"Do you want me to tell you a secret?" His eyes take on a dangerous glint and he waves the gun over to the guy. "It's better when I do.”

But, the guy just stands there, waiting, looking very much like he’s used to his shit. He only moves when his next orders come and the muzzle of the gun knocks against the plastic of the mask. “Tie him up, good and proper.”

Danny doesn’t resist. What’s the point in resisting when he can escape as easily as breathing? Wait, no, as easily as blinking. Sometimes he forgets to breathe.

The man has him sitting in the chair with a rope coiling around his hands when J continues, “I thought I had made my point very clear the first time, and normally, I’m not one to repeat a joke, but I guess he’s too stubborn to learn the lesson. You know what they say: spare the rod, spoil the child. Not that I spared it back then, but still….”

Danny freezes. The goon struggles, straining against the rope to try to bring his hands together again, with no success before Danny remembers that he’s playing compliant right now and lets himself be manhandled again.

“You’ve done this before?”

“You really are new here, aren’t you, kid?”

“You’ve killed one of the vigilantes before?”

J swings the crowbar like a golf club and peers off into the distance as if he’s watching the ball soar through the air, shielding his eyes from an imaginary sun. Then he springs up in mock celebration, fist pumping in the air before bowing at them as if they were giving him a rapturous applause. “Hole! In! One!”

“You killed a child hero.”

“You should have seen his face, calling for his daddy the whole time. It was so sweet,” his voice breaks, he chokes up, and wipes a tear from his eye, “so sad, so emotional. So funny.”

Danny doesn’t say anything.

“Are you going to call for your daddy? I was hoping to make Signal call for his—actually be his namesake and call for big, bad, daddy Bats to come and help him. Really wanted them all to hear it. They couldn’t hear the first one I killed, I think that’s where I went wrong, but they’ve all got radios and mask videos now, so they can make a lovely home video of it.”

Once the goon is done, he steps back from Danny and moves around the room to stand behind J again. At least he has enough sense to keep himself out of the line of fire. Danny wonders if he’ll run when shit breaks loose. When he breaks loose.

“This was going to really drive it home for all of them, not just the Bats. And then you came in here and ruined it!” J takes the crowbar and pokes at Danny’s chest with it, prodding him hard enough to rock him back on the chair. “So I’m going to ruin you.”

“I mean,” Danny says, pointedly looking at the mess of his front door, “you’re the one that came in here and ruined my perfectly good evening. I was gonna have pizza. Not even gonna get a balloon sword, now.”

Lightning fast, Danny phases through his ropes and snatches at the crowbar when J goes to poke him again. He heaves with just enough strength to knock J off balance while pulling himself to his feet, and dusts off his jeans.

“You’re a meta?” J’s face morphs from surprised to gleeful, another laugh crackling through the air. “Perhaps I was too hasty in—”

“Nope.” Danny rolls his eyes, not seeing the funny side. “Not a meta. I just really hate clowns.”

He pulls on the crowbar again, but J still doesn’t let go, so instead he swings his arm round and forces him on a jaunty little spin if he wants to keep on holding it. They switch places, Danny now near the door and J collapsing into the chair, laughing all the while.

“For the record, I didn’t call for my dad when I died. All I could do was scream.” 

Danny trembles in rage now, holding the crowbar tight against J’s chest, his hand slippery with blood. He doesn’t even think J can hear him, not over the sound of his laughter. 

His death was bad. Painful. Long and unending.

He can’t even imagine what it must have felt like to be lucid enough to call for help.

“You killed a child hero. You came here today to kill a child hero. I can’t let that stand.”

There’s a hitch of a breath behind him, the rattling metal of a gun, and honestly Danny’s a little surprised the guy hasn’t run yet. He turns to face him, keeping the crowbar pressed firmly against J’s chest. He won’t be getting up any time soon.

“Leave. Get out now and you’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” J gasps through his laughter, “get out! He’s mine!”

The man doesn’t need to be told twice. He drops his gun and legs it, so that’s one less thing Danny has to worry about.

Now. What to do with J…

It’s not even a question. He wanted to introduce someone’s brains to the world, didn’t he? Danny kinda doubts he has much of them, but he doesn’t mind obliging. This is one of those favours that he’s happy to help out with.

He takes the crowbar, flips it around in his hand so he’s holding the less bloody side, and starts swinging.

It’s gory. Gruesome. Worst of all, it’s over in a disappointingly short amount of time.

Actually, scratch that, worst of all is that J never stops laughing. It’s weird and more than a little unnerving.

When Danny’s finished, the crowbar clatters to the floor and Danny lets out a long, slow breath. It’s not an elegant solution, not really. Not even fun and from the looks of it, it’s not even going to be a deterrent.

Danny crouches down in front of him, watching as he blows bloody bubbles on the floor with his sputtering breath, giggling as they pop and shower him with spittle. This won’t keep him down for long, of that Danny’s certain.

“You know,” Danny muses, “I don’t agree with child heroes.”

With a snort, he stands, prodding J in the shoulder enough so that he flips over onto his back. “Bit hypocritical of me, right? I mean, I get it. Sometimes you just don’t have a choice. Sometimes you’re the only one that can do something, as fucked as that is.”

The only response he gets is a weak, nasally chuckle. Danny should break his nose, he’s really starting to hate that sound.

Instead, he turns and makes his way over to the box and looks at the bird inside. Danny can’t even imagine what Duke must have been feeling when he put it together. The panic in his voice… 

No matter how much of a beating he’s just given him, J still knows Duke’s name. Knows his family, his friends, his whole life. Sure, Danny was here to spoil his plan this time, but that was pure luck. He won’t be around for the next.

So he’s not really sure what to do now. What’s the protocol for something like this? What’s he meant to do? You can’t put someone like this in a normal jail—even if he managed to stay put, Danny’s sure this won’t be a secret he’ll keep—soon enough, it’ll be open season on Duke Marlon Thomas.

“But it only takes one person, one messed-up, maniacal fruit loop, for it all to come crumbling down. Adults can understand that, they can prepare for that. They know the weight of their actions, they can fully comprehend what they’re getting into. Children…”

Gently, he picks up the bird. The odd angles of the broken wings make the feathers crunch under his fingers and Danny smooths them out as best he can. It fits neatly into his hand, the yellow underbelly still soft and downy. Honestly, Danny’s kind of surprised that there’s not a bomb in it or something equally ridiculous.

“Children shouldn’t need to.”

“You were…” J wheezes from behind him and he can hear the blood catch in his throat. “A child hero?”

“All grown up now.”

J laughs, a wet, bubbling, heaving sound. “Batty doesn’t like to share.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. With this welcome,” Danny snorts, “Gotham already feels like home. I won’t be giving it up. Besides, I’m retired! He’s got nothing to worry about.”

“Retired?”

“I’m not a hero. I was just someone that didn’t have a choice.” He snaps the beak off the bird with a grimace. “Then my own maniacal fruit loop came in and ruined it.”

That sends J into another fit of laughter, the sound so shrill it sets Danny’s teeth on edge. Clowns. Fucking clowns.

Setting the bird down back in the box, he makes his way back over to J and hooks his foot under his shoulder with enough strength to flip him over. Somehow, his laughter is louder like this. What a dick.

“So I ruined him.”

“You… you think you can ru-ruin me?”

“I know I can ruin you. But…” Danny sighs, crouching down beside him again. “It’s probably a bad idea. As you said, the Bat doesn’t like to share and seeing as he’ll probably be here soon, I’d like to make as much of a good first impression as I can.”

The anger is still raging in his gut, the icy tendrils coiling around his core as he looks down at J. The fear in Duke’s voice rings in his ears. How young he sounded.

“No, I won’t ruin you. But I’m going to make sure you can’t ruin Duke.”

“You can try, you—” he cuts himself off with a crazed laugh.

“You know, I failed English in high school pretty hard. My teacher said I wouldn’t know poetry even if Edgar Allan Poe came back to life and smacked me in the face. I said he already did, but he didn’t get the joke and I got detention for talking back. Still… I’d like to think this is going to be poetic. You see this?” He holds up the beak to him. It starts to glow as he imbues it with a little of his ectoplasm and then encases it in a thin layer of ice for good measure. “This is going to stop you singing like a canary. You won’t be the little bird telling anyone secrets, because this little bird is going to stop you. That’s poetry, right?”

It’s almost comical, really, watching J trying to push himself away from the beak as Danny brings it closer to him. Danny allows himself a little chuckle, but it’s drowned out by J’s barking laugh, short and sharp, as his fingers slip on the blood and he lands flat on his back. Whatever. Danny grabs at his leg and jerks him back before kneeling on his chest—probably a little harder than he needs to, but that’s okay, he can live with that.

Once J is secure—despite his weak scrabbling against Danny’s knee—Danny leans forward and, thumb resting just under his chin, pushes his head up to bare his throat. J keeps trying to gnash his teeth, bite him, wriggle free, but Danny holds him steady. It’s not like he can go intangible or anything. Really, fighting humans is so boring.

Carefully, gently, Danny brings the beak closer to his throat even as J bucks wildly in response.  His wheezing laughter vibrates against Danny’s hand, spittle flying everywhere. Gross.

It takes a precise hand to phase the beak into J’s voicebox, but Danny’s good at stuff like this. It’s just like working on one of his fiddly inventions, really.

As soon as he lets go of the beak, releasing its intangibility, the cold from his ice bleeds into J’s tissue and he stills. The hands that were beating against Danny’s leg go up to his throat.

“Wh—” he starts, but stops immediately, his Adam’s apple quivering as he wordlessly mouths his question. At least he’s not laughing. 

It takes him a minute of working his throat before he can whisper, hoarse and stuttering, “What did you do?”

Danny’s grin is wolfish, stretching far too wide and showing too many teeth, as he sits back on his heels and admires his handiwork.

“Now, listen up, Jeffrey, you’re going to want to know this. Here’s how it works: that beak will be with you for the rest of your soul’s existence. Believe me when I tell you that there’s no one strong enough that can remove it, in magic or might. So you best watch what you say from now on, because if you don’t…”

He conjures up a splinter of ice between his thumb and pointer finger, and turns it around to catch the light, rainbow fractals bouncing off J on the floor. It would make for a pretty picture, without the clown.

When he’s sure J is watching, he carries on, “If you say anything with the intention to compromise or fatally wound a bat or bird— any vigilante, not just Signal—then that little beak inside your throat will grow.”

The ice shivers longer in his pinched grip as demonstration.

“Now, because I’m a nice person, I’ll give you three chances. Within reason, of course, you can’t just order their deaths and only suffer for it once, I’m not stupid. Don’t bother trying to speak around it, either, it’ll sense your intentions and once your three chances are up…”

It explodes in his hands, growing from the size of a needle to the size of a pickaxe, and falling to the floor with a hefty thunk. J watches it all with wide eyes, a whimpering giggle lodged in the back of his throat.

“You’ll end up like the Titanic. Bye, bye, Bobo.” Danny laughs, standing up. “You know, my mom always said if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Words to live by now, I guess.”

There, that’s a pretty good job, right? That should keep him from spreading Duke’s identity around, shouldn’t it? Like, yeah, sure, Danny’s shaking up the Bat’s turf in a big way by interfering, but surely he can’t be mad at him now, right? He’s fixed the situation! 

“So, Jeffrey, what do you think? Still planning on leaving messages for the birds and the bats?”

“J-Joker…” he gasps, the word sticking in his throat. Heaving in a wet, ragged breath, he tries again, “My name… is Joker.”

“I don’t care.”

Chapter Text

Mercifully, Duke’s in the cave when he gets the call.

He doesn’t recognise the number, but they’re tracing it as soon as he realises the gravity of the situation. It’s the end of his shift, the light is beginning to dim as the sun goes down, and soon the real signal will be lighting up the sky when the police find the remains of the poor guy that intercepted a message meant for him.

How hadn’t he seen this coming? Where had he gone wrong? How had Joker—

It doesn’t matter how, all that matters is that an innocent Gothamite is now paying for his mistakes, and—

A hand clamps down onto his shoulder, making him jump. He looks up at Batman’s stony face, grim and dark as it always is when they’re dealing with the Joker. Still, he’s grateful for the interruption, and part of him wants to lean into the touch. “B?”

“We’re having trouble with the trace, perhaps Joker is interfering with the transmission. Did he give you any clues as to where he could be?”

“All he said was that my package was accidentally delivered to him instead… Bruce, what if he’s…?”

“You can’t think like that, we’ve got to think about what we can do to find him and help him.” Despite the gruff tone, the efficiency in his words, the hand on Duke’s shoulder gives a comforting squeeze.

Right, that’s right, thinking what if’s and playing the blame game isn’t going to help right now. There’ll be time for that later. Right now, he has to figure out just where they are and how to get to them as quickly as possible.

The Joker had followed the call pretty quickly, which meant that he was either in the building or in the area. It’s unlikely that he would have entrusted such a threat to FedEx, especially since it had his name on it. 

His full, civilian name.

He brushes past the implications of that in favour of concentrating on where they might be. There’ll be time for a breakdown later. If there’s a later.

Joker must have been reasonably sure that Duke Marlon Thomas was attached to wherever he delivered the package, which means that it must have his name on it somewhere. He’s only just officially been fostered with the Waynes, and he hasn’t been in his parent’s house since they’ve been in the hospital, so…

“My old apartment,” he says, with a certainty that he doesn’t fully feel. “A safehouse I’ve kept on the side—I moved out a couple weeks ago, perhaps he’s the new tenant?”

“Stay here, everyone else with me. Oracle, contact Nightwing and Red Hood, let them know the situation and keep an eye out for any movement.”

“B, you can’t be serious!” Duke’s protests are not the only ones in the cave, at least everyone else thinks that he should be taking point on this, too. “It’s my mess, you can’t keep me here!”

“It’s for your own sake, Signal. You’re too close to this, I don’t want you emotionally compromised in the field.” 

The hand on his shoulder gives him another squeeze, but Duke shoves it away, the weight patronising now.

“I don’t want to see you hurt, Duke.” Bruce’s voice is softer, barely any Batman in it, and while that makes Duke stop and take a breath, it doesn’t make him change his mind.

“I’m going, Batman. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

There’s a long pause, long enough so that Duke begins to weigh up the pros and cons of just leaving right now, when Batman finally nods his assent and Duke slams his helmet back onto his head.

“You do not leave my side. Understood?”

“Whatever you say, B, let’s go.”

It takes longer to get them there than Signal wants it to. He’s weaving through cars at breakneck speeds, then ditching his bike and taking to the rooftops when the traffic gets too bad. It’s long enough for Oracle to dig up some info on the poor guy, as much good as that will do for him.

“Name on the lease is Danny Nightingale,” Oracle says, keys clicking away as she digs up whatever else she can. 

The wind whistles past his ear as he soars through the sky, his blood roaring as he pushes himself to go faster. Danny. They have the right place. There’s still time. 

 “Paperwork was finalised about 12 hours ago, I guess Joker didn’t get the memo. The deposit was paid for entirely in cash. I’ll see what else I can find.” 

12 hours. 12 hours and one bad apartment and Danny’s—no. There’s still time. He’s throwing his grapple farther, making more daring swings, and he knows Batman is cursing him from behind but he doesn’t care, he has to get there, he can’t let someone die because of him, he can’t.

When the building finally comes into view, Batman sends Spoiler and Robin around and up the fire escape while they go through the inside. They come up into the hallway towards Duke’s old apartment as quickly and as quietly as they can. There’s no sounds of fighting, none of Joker’s creepy laughter, just the small, tinny voice of a man.

“So, what now? Are you going to kill him?”

Signal and Batman share a look.

“Ancients, no. You know I don’t like doing that… But I’ve got to do something, right? Can’t have him killing more birds—plus, he knows Signal’s identity, that’s dangerous. I can’t imagine he’s just going to leave it, even with the beak.”

That’s him, that’s Danny! Signal’s stomach does a giddy flip in relief when he recognises his voice, thank God he’s okay! But, wait… are they talking about the Joker?

They’re just outside the door now and Batman holds up his hand, signalling for them to wait. Oracle, watching the camera feed from their masks, relays the message to Spoiler and Robin waiting outside the apartment window.

Over Batman's shoulder, Signal spots one of Joker’s henchmen and a concerningly large pool of blood. Dead, bullet wound to the head. So they’ve not escaped without any victims, then, but the question is: who did this?

“He’s the Joker, Danny, of course he’s going to try again.”

“Yeah, but like, I can’t just kill him. That Bat guy is gonna come up and be all like, ‘This is my territory, how dare you interfere with things you know nothing about, bleurgh, I’m a bat, get out of my city,’ and I’ve only just got here, I can’t be kicked out already!”

Duke can’t help himself, he laughs. Maybe it’s the rush of relief to see that the guy’s alright, maybe it’s the bang-on growling Batman impression, maybe it’s adrenaline, who cares? It’s funny as hell.

“I don’t sound like that.” Batman crosses his arms, an intimidating shadow in the doorway. 

“Oh, shit!” 

Danny whirls around, dropping his phone in his panic. It clunks on the floor, screen upright, and Signal can see two people on the other end of the video call. Both about as old as Danny in front of them, early-to-mid 30s at least, one African-American man bathed in the blue light of his screen and one white, very goth woman surrounded by sunlight and plants.

It also draws Duke’s eyes to the other body on the floor. 

And the crowbar lying next to him.

Familiar green hair soaked with blood, blotchy white makeup smeared pink and what bare skin he could see is starting to swell and mottle with fresh bruises. If not for the signature purple suit, Signal would have his doubts that this is the Joker at all. Even after going several rounds with Batman, he’s never looked this bad. 

For a wild moment, Signal thinks he’s dead. It’s so unlike what he thought he’d find here—the complete opposite of the mess, the tough fight, the terrifying game, that he was expecting—that he can’t help the small gasp of relief that escapes him.

But he’s not. As the guy said on the phone, he’s still very much alive, and still very much a problem. Signal can just about make out the subtle shift of his breath, the ripples it makes in the puddle of blood. The small bloom of light in his chest that tells him he’s merely unconscious flickers like a candle just waiting to be snuffed out.

Signal’s starting to see Jason’s point of view.

Curiously, even knocked out as he is, he’s still clutching at his throat like he’s choking down his own venom.

“Wow, okay,” Signal breathes, following Batman as he steps over the dead body in the doorway, still not quite believing what he’s seeing.

“Everything alright, Danny?” the man on the other side of the phone asks, craning his head around as if it would get him a better view of the room.

“Yeah! It’s the Bat guy—not Manbat, Tucker, the other one.”

“For the last time, Danny, his name is Batman! You would know that if you just listened to me for once in your life!”

“What was that, Sam? I couldn’t hear you over Tucker’s crushing disappointment about not seeing Manbat in the flesh.”

“I swear to—”

“Anyway, I gotta go!” Danny cheerfully interrupts, finger hovering over the button to hang up. “Time to see what we’re going to do to the Joker! Love you, bye!”

“You are not going to do anything to the Joker,” Batman growls when Danny looks at him expectantly. “We are going to hand him over to the authorities.”

“The authorities?” Danny raises a sceptical eyebrow and, again, Duke is very much reminded of Jason. “Okay, so I’ve barely been in Gotham for 24 hours but even I know that the authorities aren’t the people you go to for shit like this. Contrary to what she thinks, I did listen to Sam’s safety presentation—or, well, some of it, at least.”

“Her safety presentation told you to beat up the Joker?” Signal can’t help but ask.

“Honestly, the Joker slide came up after some pretty traumatising revelations about my friend’s taste in partners—he said he’d smash Manbat—so I had to block most of the villain and vigilante slides out. Luckily, the whole police section happened before that. I remember it very vividly because Tucker and I both said smash for your police commissioner. Obviously, ACAB, but damn… Cuff me, you know what I mean?”

Batman says nothing, but his scowl deepens and honestly, Signal’s pretty happy right now that he can’t read Batman’s face as well as the others yet because there’s no way he wants to know the actual answer to that question.

“Yeah, you do,” Danny says with a wink and a click of his tongue. “It’s the ‘stache.”

A wink. He winks at Batman.

Everyone on the comms dissolves into cackling laughter, almost drowning out Oracle’s whispered “Oh, my God…” Yeah, there’s no way Oracle—nor Commissioner Gordon—are ever going to live this down.

Signal’s not entirely sure what’s happening today, but when he woke up this morning he did not expect to be watching a random guy flirt with Batman over the Joker’s body. Weird how things turn out.

“Who are you, what happened here?”

Trust Batman to cut through the shenanigans and get right down to business.

“Danny,” the man says simply, no last name, extending a hand. Batman doesn’t take it. Signal thinks it’s rude, especially considering the Joker’s out cold in front of them. It looks like Danny’s done them a favour, the least Batman can do is shake his hand.

After a pretty awkward few seconds, Danny shifts to offer it to Signal instead, which he takes gratefully. It feels pretty good to be shaking the guy’s hand and not staring down at his corpse. Danny’s grip is surprisingly strong, which makes Signal squint at him a little, but… there’s nothing suspicious about Danny’s aura. He looks normal.

Well, normal in terms of no meta abilities. You can’t just beat up Joker and still be called normal.

“Signal, right?”

“That’s right,” Signal replies with a smile. Danny smiles back. “Glad to see you’re alright, man.”

“Yeah, sorry to have panicked you. Also, sorry for opening your mail, but I’m kinda glad I did, you know?” Danny’s eyes swing back to Batman with a sarcastic roll. He holds his hands up in a mocking surrender. They’re caked in blood, dry and flaking, and Signal’s stomach turns with thoughts of what might have been. “I know, I know, I was a very naughty boy and committed mail fraud. Please don’t hand me over to ‘the authorities’, I’m sorry, okay?”

Batman and Signal share a look. Sorry to have panicked you, sorry for opening your mail. The package was meant for Duke, not Signal.

Well, it’s not a huge leap, Signal figures. He knew he was compromised, but… to be honest, he hadn’t expected Danny to be alive enough for it to be an issue. He thought he’d be dealing with the Joker, not with this as well.

The knowledge of it settles like a rock in the pit of his stomach. What now?

“But it’s a crime I’d commit again if it meant I could keep this chucklefuck down. It’s a fucked up situation,” Danny continues, serious now, “you shouldn’t have to experience it.”

“What was the situation?” Batman growls out. There’s no doubt he’s come to the same conclusions that Signal has, which is why he’s using his scary Batman voice and not his ‘this civilian’s just been through a traumatic experience’ Batman voice. If he’s trying to intimidate Danny, does that mean that Signal should consider him a threat, too?

Danny turns his back on them, as calm and relaxed as if he were with friends. Guess Batman should kick his scary voice up a notch, because Danny doesn’t seem bothered at all. 

He moves towards his kitchen counter, picks up a box and a card, and brings them back over.

“This was outside my door when I got back from a meeting. I didn’t bother looking at the name until after I opened it, but when I realised it wasn’t for me, I googled you and found your number—which, like, come on dude, keep it secure—and then this all happened. Gotta admit, great second day in Gotham. Flawless.”

“I’m sorry, Danny, you should never have gotten caught up in this.” Signal frowns, hands clenching by his sides. Sure, he’s made it out without so much as a scratch, but that doesn’t negate the fact that it was Signal’s fault it happened in the first place. If Danny had been anyone else, if—

“Hey, never apologise for something a clown has done. They’re the worst.” Danny’s hand lands on his shoulder, the solid weight of it comforting enough so that Signal feels some of his tension ease. “His actions are not your responsibility and holding yourself accountable for every building broken or every civilian hurt is only going to break and hurt you in turn, which is exactly what they want.”

The heavy, serious aura of his eye contact breaks and an easy-going grin replaces it. Danny’s hand drops and he shrugs with one shoulder. “Or, at least, that’s what Jazz—my know-it-all sister—says. Easier said than done, though, right?”

Is that… the voice of experience? Just who is this guy? Signal tries to catch Batman’s eye, but he’s too busy staring at the broken bird in the box. The sight of it makes Signal’s stomach turn, so instead he picks up the card and somehow that’s even worse.

At least mommy and daddy won’t know how fast you replaced them!

Fuck. What the fuck?

“Red Robin, Orphan,” Signal speaks into his earpiece, cursing the way his voice shakes, “I need you to go to Wayne Hospital and check on my—check on—check on them, please.”

“You got it, Signal. Rerouting now.” Red Robin’s voice is grim, but hearing the determination lets him take a deep breath, lets him compartmentalise. They’ll be fine. No one can beat Red Robin and Orphan.

When he first got the call to tell him that his parents were hit with Joker gas and that it was possible they might never recover, he’d felt… Well, how are you even meant to feel with something like that? In the space of one call, his life changed forever and the people he loved the most were gone.

Now, it’s happening again.

But this time, it’s his fault; all of his friends, his family, they’re all in danger because of him.

This could kill him.

This could kill everyone.

“Batman…”

And Batman just looks at him. 

No words, no reprimand, no comfort. He just looks at him, face unreadable, mask looming, and somehow that's even worse. Duke can tell he's not really seeing him, he's seeing everything that could have been. Every mistake that's hurt someone, hurt a Robin, hurt one of his children. Jason. 

How close he is to losing them all again. 

It’s the Joker, after all—now he has one of their identities, he’ll know the rest—and if Duke had just tidied his ends up a little better, if he were just a little more vigilant, if his phone number wasn’t on fucking google, then perhaps the bird lying in front of them wouldn’t be so broken, the smiling face on the card would—

“Come on, dude, what did I just say? Stop catastrophising. It’s not your fault. Yes, he knows who you are, but don’t worry about it! We have an understanding now, don’t we, J? You won’t be telling anyone, right?” 

So saying, he nudges Joker with his foot, but there’s no response. Doesn’t even groan. Jeez, what did the guy do to him? 

Signal resolves to slip Jason a copy of his mask’s video just in case he doesn’t get to see it in person.

“He won’t—oh, shit! He can still write it, I didn’t even think of that! One sec, let me break his hands real quick so he gets the message.”

Before Danny can take a step forward, Batman comes back to himself and darts out in front of him to hold him back and it’s that, more than anything, that snaps Signal out of it.

Now, look, it’s not like Signal is hungry for blood, but knowing that he’s compromised, that someone knows his identity and has already used it to try and hurt people—will likely use it to try and hurt even more people—and it being the Joker, too… his eyes start to burn and his fists tremble and honestly, he’s kinda on Danny’s side for this.

“B—” 

He doesn’t even get to move before Spoiler comes tumbling through the window, Robin close behind her with a much more graceful landing.

“Oh, come on, B, let the guy break his hands!”

“We don’t torture people.” Batman turns to face Spoiler, but he still keeps his hand against Danny’s chest in warning.

“But—” She barely gets the word out before Danny interrupts her.

“He was going to torture Signal. He would still torture Signal, if he could. He made it explicitly clear that he was going to torture me in Signal’s place so he could then emotionally torture Signal.” Danny cocks his head, examining Batman with a critical eye. “Not only that, but he tortured your other one, too, right? Before he killed him? That’s what he said.”

“We don’t torture people,” Batman repeats, voice darker and pressing harder against Danny’s chest to force him into taking a step back. 

Except… except to Signal’s eye, it looks more like Danny lets himself be moved. There’s a brief moment where he stands stock still, where Bruce is pushing with a force that should move pretty much anyone, and it doesn't even look like Danny feels it. It almost reminds him of Superman’s strength, but… That’s ridiculous, right?

The guy’s not glowing like a meta would, nevermind like a Kryptonian does, so what’s his deal?

Whatever. Danny’s alive and safe, but it could have been a very different story—and it would have been Duke’s fault, no matter what he says—so he’s not going to press whatever he’s got going on when he’s more than likely alive because of it.

“Both of you should be reasonable,” Robin says, looking between Danny and Spoiler. “Breaking his hands will accomplish nothing in the long run.”

“Thank you, Rob—” Batman tries, but Robin immediately interrupts him off.

“The obvious solution is that I should cut them off.”

“Oh, Ancients, he’s so bloodthirsty, I love him. Yes, little Robin, cut his hands off!”

“Robin,” Batman warns, raising his voice to be heard above Danny’s enthusiastic clapping. He pivots towards Robin, his hand now holding him back instead, keeping his katana in its sheath.

“Batman,” Robin snarks back, but thankfully stays put. Don’t want to be dealing with all that again. “If the situation is to be believed, Signal is compromised. The best course of action would be to silence the Joker and anyone else that knows. I will not lose my life because of one person’s incompetence.”

Yeah, that was definitely aimed at him. Not entirely unexpected, either. Signal swallows and looks down, eyes bouncing off the blood splatters over the floor. Robin’s always thought of himself as being superior, but to have it proven so succinctly, and to have it directly said to him, is something else entirely.

“Silenced? Oof, little Robin is out for blood and while I am here for that and totally support it, I’ve gotta ask… Anyone? You’re going to silence anyone that knows?” Danny’s laugh is forced and he rubs at the back of his neck. Signal can read between the lines. Robin is scary.

But it does also raise the question of what they’re going to do with Danny. They certainly can’t ‘silence him’ like Robin suggests.

“Anyone that cannot be trusted with the knowledge, of course.” Robin sniffs and moves to draw his katana again. He doesn’t get very far, not with Batman still blocking the way. “Keep calling me ‘little’ and you will find yourself added to the list.”

Danny holds his hands up in surrender. “Alright, point taken, just Robin it is. Don’t add me, please, you’re very intimidating.

“Also,” Danny adds, glancing towards Batman after a short pause, as if he’s waiting for him to say something, “it’s not Signal’s fault that his identity was compromised. I don’t know how it happened, and while I’m sure Signal will be cracking down on any leaks as soon as he can, you can’t lose sight of the real villain. Not that it’s hard to keep track of his snot-coloured hair and terrible fashion sense. The only place you could lose him in would be Willy Wonka’s factory, the Oompa-Loompa looking ass.”

While Signal appreciates Danny fighting his corner for him—both figuratively and literally, considering Joker in front of them—the look on Robin’s face is absolutely murderous and for the second time today, Signal’s genuinely afraid that Danny’s going to lose his life.

“He’s right,” Batman gruffs out, sounding about as painful as it looks for him to get out. “You can’t blame Signal for this and if I hear any more of it, I will be benching you.”

Whatever Danny was waiting for Batman to say, that seemed to be the wrong thing. He scoffs and rolls his eyes—which has Signal having to smother a smile because Robin does the exact same thing at the exact same time and he knows just how badly laughing at it will irritate him. 

And yeah, while that kind of makes Signal want to do it, the thought of having to deal with a sulking Damian around the manor for a week is enough to put him off.

Obviously, Danny’s decided to play some kind of hero today because not even a second later there’s an encouraging smile on his face and he’s back talking to Robin like he’s not tempting fate.

“You’re very intimidating. I like your sword.”

“It is a katana.” Robin sniffs, still not letting go of the handle. “And I’m not a child. Do not talk down to me.”

“I’m not! Love a katana, but I’m more partial to a double-edge, myself. Oh! Give me a minute, you’ll love this!” 

So saying, he breaks off with a hum and starts rummaging through his bulging cupboards and drawers, muttering about how “she’ll kill me again if I’ve lost it already”. Is he talking about Sam? She certainly seemed formidable on the call. 

Signal watches as Batman’s hands creep down to his utility belt, his stance wary. His eyes never leave Danny, tracking him as he flits from corner to corner in the small apartment.

“You any good with it?” he calls out from half under the coffee table, face scrunched as he blindly reaches around. What’s he looking for? “It’s been ages since I’ve had a proper sword fight, you wanna spar sometime? Bet I could teach you a few things.”

“I have been trained since birth by the world’s deadliest assassins, I doubt you could teach me anything.” Robin draws himself up straighter and turns to fully face Danny, a haughty expression on his face. “Besides… Batman says I am not allowed to sword fight civilians.”

“Aw, what a spoilsport.” Danny sticks his tongue out—actually sticks his tongue out—at Batman as he breezes past them all back into the kitchen. “She gave me apples, pomegranates, and that cute little owl statue to bless the new kitchen, which means I was unpacking her box over here with the fruit bowl, owl is on the window, sword is… in the breadbox!”

So saying, he whips his hand in and out of the box lightning fast, the wooden slats falling shut with a thwack, and twirls to face them all, brandishing a shortsword high in the air as if he’s just pulled it from a stone. Just as quick, Batman grabs a batarang and holds it behind his shoulder, poised to throw, in case Danny decides to come at them all mediaeval style. Or, stabby Robin style. Sure, he beat up the Joker pretty easily, but Signal can’t see him doing the same to four of Gotham’s vigilantes. Not all at once.

“Oh, will you chill out, I’m not going to do anything! I just thought Robin would like to see it.” 

Slowly, he brings the sword back down and lays it over both hands to present it to Robin, who, despite himself, leans in for a closer look.  It looks fairly impressive to Signal, who’s lost every single bout he’s had with Robin so far (in his defence, he hasn’t been using his powers. Yet). The leaf-shaped blade almost glows in the light. It reminds Signal of those swords used in the old Jason and the Argonauts films his dad used to watch.

It’s only now that Robin’s distracted that Signal allows himself a smile. It’s nice to see the little brat act his age, even if he’s still so desperately trying to hold himself back. He can kind of see what Dick’s been saying lately. They really do all need some time to hang out together, out of costume, and just be normal for once. Let Damian experience being a kid.

Even if it means giving the stabby Robin more swords.

“It’s a—”

“Xiphos. Secondary weapon to the Ancient Greeks, used after the dory or javelin has been thrown. Popular during the Iron Age. Why do you use this blade?”

“I’m impressed! You really know your swords, huh? It was given to me by one of my teachers—and sidenote, if you see a scary woman dressed in, like, a black bedsheet, please don’t tell her I kept her sword in a breadbox. She will flay me.” Danny stops and thinks for a moment, face creased in concern. “And please don’t tell her I said she was wearing a bedsheet.”

“It is understandable that she would be mad. Not only is it irresponsible to keep it there, it is also extremely disrespectful to both the blade and your teacher. I’m sure she would be ashamed of having such a student, if she were aware.”

“Damn, dude, don’t hold back, jeez. In my defence, how else am I meant to slice my bread?” Danny laughs and quickly holds up his hands in surrender as Robin sputters at the indignity. “I’m joking, I’m joking! I’m trying to find a proper way to display them, I promise, but it’s a little difficult to get something big enough for the Zweihander. Barely fits under my bed as it is.”

“A Zweihander? I find it hard to believe that you could even lift one, let alone wield it.”

“Guess you’ll have to accept my challenge and find out! If it means it can happen then you can supervise, B-man. Promise I’ll go easy on him.” A wicked grin grows across Danny’s face as he very obviously looks Batman up and down. “Or, perhaps you’d like to have a go yourself?”

A chorus of retching comes through the comms, and Oracle laughs back in vengeance. Luckily, Danny’s flirting seems to go over Robin’s head.

“How dare you! If we are to spar, we will do it properly. I do not go easy on anyone.”

“Wanna hold it?” Danny offers, breaking through Robin’s tirade with a knowing smile. He lifts the xiphos so it’s eye-level with Robin and Signal can practically see him start to glow with excitement.

Robin pauses, squinting up at Danny, then glances towards Batman for permission, almost on the balls of his feet as he leans closer. Batman doesn’t even get a chance to nod—or more likely, shake his head—before Robin makes up his mind.

“If you insist.” His voice is grave and restrained when he answers, but Signal swears he can hear it quiver.

Danny just laughs as Robin practically snatches it off him before Batman can open his mouth to intervene. Amazing. Signal’s never seen him like this before, he’s almost… cute.

“It’s so lightweight! The balance is superb, who is the maker? It is a masterpiece and I must purchase one for my collection.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spoiler says, with her hand in the air. Judging by her grin, she’s not sorry at all. “But it’s my turn with the new guy now, and new guy? I just gotta say, I’m a big fan of your work.”

It’s surprising just how reassuring it was earlier in the cave to have everyone racing behind him, knowing that they all had his back, no matter what they found in the apartment. But with Spoiler’s grin growing feral, he’s kinda wishing they all stayed behind, now.

“Thanks! I’m Danny, pleasure to meet you! Love the fit!” This time, when Danny offers his hand, Spoiler doesn’t hesitate to shake it. “And sorry, Robin, the maker is no longer living and is super particular about who has his swords.”

Robin barely acknowledges him with a nod (which is mildly concerning—Signal was fairly sure he’d throw a tantrum not being able to get a similar sword) before moving farther into the apartment and into the space behind the ratty looking couch, so he can begin running through several sword forms.

“Thanks, purple truly is the new black. So, Danny, in your opinion, what’s better? Flowers or chocolates?”

“Chocolate’s never tried to kill me before, so, that one. Why?”

“Nightwing ETA three minutes, Red Hood incoming now.” Oracle interrupts.

At least Red Hood will be able to see the mess Joker’s in first hand and Signal doesn’t have to worry about smuggling out copies of their mask feed. Spoiler presses her finger into her ear.

“I would ask you to elaborate but given that we’re in Gotham, where plants have tried to kill the majority of the city several times over, I won’t! Also, tomorrow you probably won’t be able to say the same.”

“Is… that a threat?”

“That, my friend, is a sweet, sweet promise.”

“What?”

“I’m saying that this time tomorrow you’ll be able to open up your own chocolate shop with the amount of thank you gifts coming your way.”

“Police have been alerted to several gunshots in the building, but I’ve rerouted the patrol cars to give you more time with him. ETA roughly 15 minutes. They don’t know about Joker’s involvement yet.”

Duke sees Batman type something quickly into his wrist computer, fingers flitting over the screen. He can only be asking for more information on Danny. Something about it rubs Signal the wrong way: why look a gift horse in the mouth? 

Batman has every right to be suspicious. An unknown operative in the city, taking out one of the top players on his second day here. Is he trying to make a name for himself?

Yes, Batman has every right to be suspicious.

It just feels like shit.

“So I’m not in trouble?” Danny asks, grinning expectantly at all of them even as they continue to ignore him for Oracle’s updates. “Thought for sure I’d be in trouble.”

Spoiler holds her hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “I never said that.”

“There’s not much I can find about him on the internet, no social media pages, nothing. You’ll like this, though. The ‘meeting’ he went to today was a job interview. For an R&D position at Wayne Enterprises.”

Duke can practically see the suspicion ratchet to a higher level behind Batman’s cowl. It doesn’t mean anything, though—half of the people desperate enough to move to Gotham, of all places, come with the hopes of landing a job at WE—it’s probably just a coincidence.

“It went pretty well, apparently. He’s on the shortlist for the second round of interviews.”

Probably.

“Guys?” Danny asks, grin fading into confusion. “You’re not going to kick me out of Gotham when I’ve finally just got rid of all my boxes, right?”

But there’s no such thing as coincidences. That’s lesson number one with Batman. Thinking there is only means you’re overlooking something.

Duke’s made enough mistakes lately. He won’t underestimate potential threats again.

But… What is he meant to do here? 

The sound of shattering glass jolts him out of his thoughts. 

Everyone falls into battle-ready stances, and with a deep breath, he focuses on his ghost sense to watch the glowing figure of a man crash into the living room. Immediately, he relaxes—Red Hood making an entrance, dramatic as always—and out of the corner of his eye he can see everyone else following his lead, obviously realising he’s not seen a threat.

Blinking away the black spots and afterimages with a shake of his head, Signal tentatively smiles at him when he finally follows his future image inside the apartment proper. It’s hard to know where he stands, with Jason. Hell, it’s hard to know where any of them stand with Jason. Whatever peace is between them now is a fragile thing and Signal’s under no illusions that they’re all one bad day away from burning all the bridges they’ve worked so hard to rebuild.

Still… this has to be a pretty good day for him, though, right?

“Holy fuck, it’s true.” 

Judging by the breathiness that crackles through Red Hood’s voice modulator, Signal’s going to go out on a limb and say, yeah, it’s a pretty good day.

“Dude, did you just break my window? That’s so rude, man, the front door is literally still open. Hell, that other window is literally still open.” Danny turns and points an accusatory finger at Batman. “You’re paying for it.”

“Is he dead?”

“Unconscious and in need of medical assistance.” Batman answers, conveniently ignoring Danny. Red Hood doesn’t even spare him a glance.

Dropping his hand, Danny snorts and nudges at the Joker with his foot again. This time, the Joker groans, a wet gurgling sound at the back of his throat that has Signal grimacing. Jeez, Danny really did a number on him.

“Yeah, he’ll bounce back, unfortunately.” Danny clicks his tongue and sighs. “Probably sooner rather than later. The universe always needs a butt for its jokes. Emphasis on the butt.”

Stepping round the body, head down, Red Hood drinks in the sight. Sure, he’s not dead and from the slump in his shoulders, it’s not what he was hoping for, but there has to be some vindication in seeing him all broken and beaten like that.

Signal wonders if it makes Jason feel better. Does it make Duke feel better?

“So, how many more of you am I expecting? Are all the Justice League going to turn up? Do I need to open the rest of the windows before they get smashed, too? At this rate, I’m going to be paying more for window repairs than I did for the apartment.”

Despite Danny’s cheerful sarcasm, Signal can feel a tension building in the room. Danny’s eyes never stop tracking Red Hood as he moves around the body. Sure, his shoulders are loose and his arms folded in an easy manner, he’s relaxed, but… For the first time since they’ve been here, Signal can almost see the power that took down the Joker. The lazy confidence of being the strongest in the room, like a yawning lion.

 A quick glance around shows everyone else wearily watching Danny, too. They’ve all felt the dynamic shift.

Only Red Hood seems unaffected, but who really knows where he’s looking, how he’s feeling, with that mask on?

When he’s satisfied with committing the Joker’s condition to memory, Hood stops just in front of Signal, and, absurdly, Signal finds himself standing a little straighter at his attention. He only relaxes when Red Hood takes off his helmet, revealing the soft smile underneath.

“I’m glad you’re okay, nightlight. We’ll get this fixed, whatever it takes.”

“Thanks, Hood.” Signal smiles back. He’s grateful for it, he really is.

And… is it his imagination, or does the tension drop? Nothing’s changed, not outwardly, but it feels like Danny brightens, like he likes what he sees.

“You wear a mask underneath your mask? Jazz would have so much to say about that.”

“You’re the one that did this?” Red Hood's attention swings over towards Danny, keeping the Joker’s body in between them to maintain an intimidating distance. Without the modulator, Signal can pick up on the quiver in his voice.

“Really, he did it to himself, kicking my door down like he’s something special. Refused to make me a balloon animal, can you believe it?”

“You asked him for a balloon animal and you’re still alive?”

Danny barks out a laugh as if Hood’s just told a particularly funny joke, and shrugs. “You're half right. I’d have settled for a sword, I’m not picky.”

“And then?”

“Then… we had a bit of a disagreement about how the rest of the show would go.”

“No. Uh-uh.” Red Hood moves to his right and pulls out another one of the chairs from the kitchen island and sits down expectantly. “I need details.”

“Yes,” Batman says, moving forward and crossing his arms. “What happened, exactly?”

“Hey, fuckface, why don’t you take a step back and don’t fucking interrupt again. You will not take this away from me.”

“Jeez, you want popcorn or something? You seem very invested in this.” Danny’s eyes flicker down to take in the whole of Red Hood. “Why is that?”

Before anyone can answer, Spoiler starts bouncing on her heels, clapping her hands. “Hell yeah, if you’re offering! This will be way more entertaining with popcorn!”

“Uh, right, yeah, pretty sure I’ve got some in some cupboards somewhere. Microwave might not be plugged in yet though, I was kinda hoping for pizza tonight, but I think this whole… thing scared the pizza boy away.”

Danny makes a move towards the kitchen area with a sigh, but Spoiler throws a hand out to stop him just as both Batman and Red Hood growl.

“Don’t worry about it, clown-killer, I’ll find it! You keep the story going.”

Honestly, Signal’s a little jealous of how Spoiler is able to shrug off the disapproving glare Batman sends her way. He’s also a little jealous of how Spoiler is getting some popcorn. Inching his way over to her means having to cross past Batman, which… yeah, Signal definitely needs to work on shrugging off that disapproving glare.

“Do want to point out that the clown is still very much alive, I absolutely did not kill him and I do not deserve such a cool nickname. There’s no need for any of this, and I cannot stress this enough—we good, B.”

“That remains to be seen. Explain.” Batman growls, stepping forward in an intimidation tactic that didn’t work the first time and Signal’s fairly certain isn’t going to work now.

Proving Signal right, all Danny does is roll his eyes before, thankfully, beginning his explanation.

It’s… it’s something.

The microwave starts to whirr and the gun shots in Danny’s story come alive with muted popping as Spoiler gets the snacks ready. It does add a certain whimsical air to it all, with the sweet and salty smell wafting through the apartment. Like they’re all at the cinema.

At the end of the tale, Signal’s not convinced that Danny doesn’t have some metahuman strength in his blood, after all. Enough to give him that extra boost of confidence needed to thoroughly thrash the Joker with his own crowbar (a fact that Red Hood crows in delight over, when Danny tells them).

For someone—Signal’s not entirely sure he can keep calling Danny a civilian after hearing his tale—to beat the Joker to a pulp is one thing. Joker’s just a man, as much as he likes to think otherwise, and men are very capable of being drop-kicked straight into the hospital.

But stopping him with an honest-to-goodness curse is another thing altogether. Signal can practically feel Batman’s blood pressure rising from where he stands. 

“I was doing alright—would probably have just left Jojo unconscious and that would be that, you know?—until he mentioned what he did to the, uh, previous Robin.” Danny’s eyes flicker over to Red Hood, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the audience.

The microwave dings and, wordlessly, Spoiler rips open the popcorn and pours it into a plastic mixing bowl, not taking her eyes off the scene in front of her.

“I guess that’s a sore spot for me,” he says with a shrug. “Felt like I had to do something to make sure that it didn’t happen again. Thought y’all might appreciate it.”

There’s a slight smile on his face as he rubs the back of his neck, bashful.

Does Batman appreciate it? Signal does. Surely, Batman must, too.

Right?

“You cursed him? What does that entail?”

It speaks to Batman’s dedication to his interrogation that he doesn’t even flinch when Nightwing cleanly somersaults through the open window, rolling through the landing and immediately making his way over to Spoiler and the giant bowl of popcorn she’s been making her way through.

“Hey, I’m Nightwing, don’t mind me, I’m just here for the show.”

Danny gives him a thumbs up. “Thanks for not breaking a window, Nightwing.”

“So, you cursed the Joker, did I hear that right?” Nightwing asks, all the while fielding Spoiler’s attempts at keeping him away from her prized bowl of popcorn.

Before Danny can elaborate at all, they’re interrupted by a long, drawn-out moan from below.

Instead of any sort of coherent explanation, a wicked grin slides across Danny’s face. “Can I knock him out again? Please?”

“I’d like him awake. We need to question him.” Batman answers, crossing his arms.

“Well,” Danny sighs, defeated, “from past experience, there’s only so much I can take of him laughing. I’m funny, but I’m not that funny. You’d think he’d be able to tell the difference between a good joke and a mediocre one, except… looking at him, I guess not.”

Red Hood snorts and valiantly, very obviously, resists doing exactly what Danny suggests. Much like everyone else, from the looks of it. They could all do with punching Joker again. It’s almost therapy, at this point.

“Might be time to get those answers, GCPD ETA eight minutes at best,” Oracle interrupts. “Six more squad cars have been added, there've been two more calls from Danny’s building reporting gunshots and possible Joker activity. It’s going to get pretty noisy in there soon.”

Mercifully, the Joker doesn’t open his eyes, and they’re all spared his grating voice.

Batman wastes no time in turning back to Danny. They have under eight minutes, after all.

“You cursed him?”

“Sure did! Thought it would be a pretty good way of stopping him from revealing any identities—yours or any other vigilantes’. I stuck the beak from the bird in his throat and made it so that it’ll grow and grow if he tries anything, it’s poetic!” Danny grins at them all, and is Signal imagining it or are there fangs poking out of the corners of his mouth? It makes him look feral, but as soon as he blinks, they’re gone.

The six of them all look at each other, no one really quite sure how to respond to that. Ostensibly, it’s a problem solved, but… Batman’s not going to like it. 

So, predictably, Red Hood does. With a slap of his hands on his thighs and a wild look that matches Danny’s maybe-fangs, he stands up and begins to slow clap. “Amazing. Well done, bravo. I mean, I would have preferred a little more… lethality, but I’ve gotta say, it’s inspired. Thank you for the show.”

“You’re welcome. It was the least I could do.”

“What do you say, Bats?” Red Hood turns to Batman with a mirror of Danny’s grin, shit-eating and promising carnage. “You gonna thank the guy for saving our Signal?”

“Thank him? I should be questioning him, there are many—” 

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before the room explodes in noise, all of them talking over each other, yelling about how absurd it is.

“You can’t treat him as a threat, he’s not done anything wrong!”

“Batman, it’s my fault he was in this position in the first place, you can’t punish him for—”

“He was protecting himself against that maniac, why would—”

“You touch him and I’ll fucking kneecap you, just try it!”

“There’s no evidence of anything against him, what makes you think—”

“—absolutely ridiculous, it’s just like you to—”

“That’s not very hashtag girlboss of you, Batman.”

Popcorn peppers Batman’s chest as Spoiler makes her displeasure known.

Danny doesn’t say anything, just crosses his arms and fixes Batman with a flat, disappointed look that reminds Duke so much of Alfred that it gives him chills.

“This apartment is rented under a false identity and there are no records of you anywhere before this. You are either a magic user or a metahuman, or both, and you have no qualms about using your powers to beat someone senseless.” Batman doesn’t look away from Danny as he speaks, but he does raise his voice to be heard over the rabble.

Eventually, everyone peters out as the excitement of defending the guy that just beat up the Joker fades and the reality of the situation becomes clear, until only Batman can be heard.

“You recognised Red Hood as—there’s more to this that you’re not telling us and I will not thank you when the lives of my fellow vigilantes might still be in danger. Not when you know Signal’s identity. I know the Joker and we can take countermeasures for anything he pulls. I do not know you.”

Not even Red Hood can bring himself to protest now. Signal watches as his fists clench and unclench, his jaw working as his teeth grind in frustration. Honestly, Signal gets it. It’s the fucking worst when Batman’s right.

But, before Danny can say anything, a wet chuckle comes from the floor and the Joker shifts, his limbs uncurling inch by inch. His shoes squeak as they slip in the blood pooled beneath him, leaving long streaks on Danny’s new laminate flooring. It’s definitely going to stain, Signal thinks with a morbid fascination. That’s some shitty luck.

“You… Batman… You don’t know?” 

“Oh, great, sure, let’s let Jojo’s most bizarre adventure tell us about it,” Danny sighs, rolling his eyes, before brightening up with a grin. “Actually, this is great! You can see the curse at work and hopefully you’ll agree that I’m not a threat, this was all a good thing, and then you can leave. No offence.”

“None taken,” Nightwing cheerfully grins, finally shovelling Spoiler's popcorn into his mouth.

“I’d like to see if it works,” Signal says. His hands keep clenching and unclenching into fists and there’s a small, distant, part of him that’s glad that their uniforms have thick, armoured gloves. Biting your nails is a bad habit, and they're about all that's stopping him.

Joker takes no notice of them talking, the wet wheezing of his breaths stuttering in a weak excuse for a laugh as he finally gets his knees under him.

“I know… something you don’t… know,” he sings, the tune high and warbling. It has all of them wincing, and when he cackles it’s like nails on a chalkboard, always staring Batman straight in the eyes.

Danny crouches down before him and flicks his nose. Immediately, the Joker gasps and chokes on globs of bloody phlegm. They hit the floor with a thwack.

“Think long and hard about this, Jeffrey. Three chances. Remember that.”

Jeffrey? Signal’s almost impressed by how Danny can needle the Joker like that, so obviously getting under his skin. The way he talks back, it almost reminds him of the Robins and their constant need to snark.

Furious red blotches bleed underneath Joker’s white face paint and he gnashes his teeth to try and take a bite out of Danny’s fingers.

“That’s just nasty, come on, now. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you bird beaks.” Danny screws his face up and looks thoughtfully to the ceiling. “Pretty sure that’s how the saying goes.”

“Did you know, Batty…” Joker’s voice rattles in his ribcage, and everyone holds their breath as they wait to see if—how—Danny’s curse works. “That he’s just like me? He hates child heroes, too!”

“Hey, that’s taken out of context! I just don’t think that—” 

“Because he was one! Isn’t that great! Another hero come to play with me! You have a contender, Batman!” Joker cackles, leaning so far back with the force of it that he almost topples over.

“You what? That’s such bullshit, you little rat, I can’t believe you tattled on me to Batman!" Danny shouts, before pausing, a confused look on his face. "But also… how did you tattle on me? I…”

“You’re retired! You’re retired!” Joker shrieks in laughter. If Signal were a lesser man, he would cover his ears. As it is, he’s pretty sure the sound is going to haunt his nightmares from now on. “You’re retired, so I can say what I want!”

“Oh, Ancients,” Danny whispers, his voice hollow. “I’ve been Desiree’d. Foiled by my own poor wording. Rookie mistake. Batman, you’d probably know this, what actually is a petard? Because I feel like I’ve just been hoisted by my own one.”

Batman ignores him in favour of interrogating the Joker.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it was my own lack of specification that led to this. If I’d just been clearer in the curse then—”

“Not you, the Joker. What do you mean he’s retired?”

“He was a child hero! A child hero… but a hero no longer.” Joker cackles, a rattling in his ribcage echoing the laughter. “He says he’s never going to give up Gotham. Another child hero turned rogue!”

“Bitch, you think this is me going rogue? Trust me, you would know it if I went rogue.”

“Is that a threat?” Batman’s attention snaps back to Danny, his voice dark and icy and Signal’s finding it a little hard to be indignant for Danny now. They shouldn’t be listening to the Joker, of course not, but…

“No! It’s a statement of fact!” Danny pauses, his face scrunching up in thought. “Okay, yeah, no, I’m hearing it now, that does sound like a threat. Pinky promise I’m not, though.”

So saying, he reaches his hand towards Batman, his little finger out-stretched. Just like with the handshake earlier, Batman simply stares down at him. Instead of offering it to Signal (would Signal have taken it again?), he moves his hand up and down as if in a promise with himself.

When no one seems amused at his antics, Danny’s smile dims and his shoulders droop.

“This is really not how I imagined my second day in Gotham to go, but I guess it’s about par for the course.” Danny sighs and runs his hands over his face, muttering something that Signal thinks sounds like how this was probably going to happen sooner or later. “Listen, Batman, as much as I am loath to admit it, Jingles the Jolly Laughing Leper here is telling the truth. I am retired. Not a rogue, though.”

Signal’s mind races, flying through all of the young heroes on the JL database. Batman is meticulous in his notes, but Signal… isn’t exactly meticulous in reading them. But he must be there, they must have a record of who he is and what he can do.

Danny looks older than Nightwing, but Signal can’t remember any of the heroes from his generation retiring early like this. He’s fairly sure that Nightwing was the first sidekick, too, right?

Just who is he?

“Was kinda hoping that Gotham could be a new start for me, you know? Put all of that shit behind me and—”

“What do you think turned him off the heroics, Batman?” Joker snickers, gnashing his teeth together like a rabid dog. His aura fluctuates horrifically, diseased green and purple rolling off him like foetid air. With his throat exposed now, Signal can see a small, white light shining like a torch in the centre. The beak? “He said he’s ruined people, just like he wants to ruin me with this thing. Just like I want to ruin all of you. I think he has more in common with me than he wants to admit.”

Danny huffs, crossing his arms. His leg rears back as if he’s going to kick him again, but obviously he decides against it and puts it back down. “The only thing I have in common with you is that I want to live in Gotham, and even that’s starting to lose its charm.”

“You want to ‘ruin’ people?” Batman growls, his hands slowly creeping towards his batarangs, sinking into a defensive stance. Everyone else does the same, Spoiler even going so far as to put down her half finished bowl of popcorn. “Who are you, really? What do you want with my city?”

“Really? You want me to just give up my hero identity, after all this?” He waves his hands around, taking in the situation.

“Once this is sorted, we could go somewhere more private—” Nightwing begins, hands raised in a placating gesture, trying to diffuse the situation like he always does.

“What is this, like a tit-for-tat situation? Grow up.”

“Leave him alone, B.” Red Hood moves to stand in front of Batman, getting in his face. His hands hover dangerously over his guns. Shit. Signal focuses on his ghost sense and speedruns the conversation, tensing in case he needs to step in. “For what he’s done to the Joker, he’s under my protection. You lay a finger on him and there’ll be hell to pay.”

“That’s sweet and all, Red Hood, but I really don’t need another Knight. I can look after myself. Appreciate the gesture though, and vice versa, too.” 

As he talks, Danny steps behind Joker who twists violently to keep him in his sights. Fear radiates off him in waves, his raucous laughter now bubbling into nervous giggles that pop out of him.

Signal sees it happen before it goes down.

One moment, Danny is standing there, smiling at Batman and the others as calm as he has been for the whole interaction, and the next his ghostly visage has the Joker’s throat gripped in one hand and his forehead pulled back in the other, teeth bared against his cheek. Is Danny planning on snapping the Joker’s neck?

More importantly, should Signal stop him?

The image of Joker’s lifeless body falls to the floor and Danny stands again, the glowing outline merging again with the way he’s standing in the present, back to talking with Batman. The mouths are out of sync and Signal has to drop his ghost sense when it starts making him dizzy.

“I don’t want to ruin people, Batman. On the contrary, just like you, I only want to protect. Unfortunately, sometimes that means making tough choices.”

Their eyes meet over the Joker’s twisting body and Danny smiles at him, so warm and comforting and understanding, that he realises no. 

He won’t. Signal won't stop Danny from killing the Joker.

Danny turns his attention back to Batman and gestures to himself.

“This is what happens when your secret identity is compromised. Yes, I’m using a false identity here, yes, there are no records of me anywhere. There are people out there that would stop at nothing to capture me, and… I can’t. I won’t survive that, not again.” 

Suddenly, Danny barks out a harsh laugh, the sound clashing with Joker’s stuttering, high-pitched chuckles. Spoiler reaches slowly behind her to grab at some more popcorn kernels. Honestly, Signal’s got to admire her dedication to the drama.

“I’m a walking cautionary tale, Batman, and I won’t see anyone else go through it. Especially child heroes.”

And then he makes his move. 

Danny latches onto the Joker’s neck just as Signal saw it, left hand gripping his throat tightly, right hand pulling his forehead back, Danny’s face against the Joker’s own. He’s whispering intently, but none of them can hear it over the Joker’s shrieking as he scrambles to free himself. Light bleeds out of Danny’s fingers, blinding white at Joker’s throat, and Duke has to switch his visor to block out the harshest of the glare. Slowly, it inches its way upwards, threatening to burn dark spots into his retinas despite the added protection. Is Danny cursing him or killing him?

It travels higher and higher, from the middle of the Joker's throat to the base of his skull, where it stays twinkling like a fairy light. When Duke switches his vision back to normal, the light is barely visible behind Joker's normal glow.

Only Batman moves, launching himself across the room with hands outstretched, but by the time he reaches Danny he’s already let go, stepped back, and left the Joker to fall to the ground as he clutches at his head. Signal watches as his eyes roll back and his body loosens, fainting like some 18th century maiden after a fright. Jeez, just what did Danny do to him?

Privately, he’s glad that he made the same call as everyone else. He knows that for once it feels better than if he made the same choice as Batman.

“What did you do?” Batman growls, grabbing at Danny’s shirt and pushing him back against the arm of the couch. The momentum carries them forward, Danny tilting precariously backwards and Batman towering over the top of him. It’s only by the grace of Danny’s shirt and Batman’s strength that he’s still upright.

Signal’s seen this death-defying intimidation tactic used plenty of times, but it’s generally over a long drop from a roof rather than someone’s couch.

Mind you, that's Signal’s old couch, and he knows how uncomfy it is.

“Calm down, I just amended the curse. I know, I know, it’s cheating! But, to be fair, fuck this guy and also fuck the rules. I've moved it into his brain now, so it's no longer just tied to his speech. He won't be able to act on any thought he has that would directly lead to any harm towards a vigilante's civilian life. He can still play with you, if he wants, but no one else will be collateral damage for it.” Danny’s voice is breathless, his smile open and wide, as his hand comes up to grasp at Batman’s shoulder, trying to keep himself as upright as he can. “The identity of any vigilante, past, present, or future—regardless of their current status as hero or civilian—will be safe.” 

Batman doesn’t say anything, but Signal can see how his jaw clenches. He can only imagine what he must be thinking. He tightens his fist, Danny’s shirt curling upwards even more, and pulling Danny closer towards him. Signal can see the hint of scars criss-crossing along his exposed stomach.

“You know, if you keep me trussed up like this much longer, I’m going to have to ask the kids to leave.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees both Spoiler and Nightwing reaching for the remaining popcorn. Red Hood makes gagging sounds.

Batman drops him and Danny flounces back onto the couch with a laugh.

“Thanks. Although, I can’t say I wouldn’t mind doing that again sometime.” Danny says, as he stands up, brightening as another thought comes to him. “Oh, wait, another thing I fixed! I made it so that he can’t write it either, you won’t need to cut—hey, where’s Robin?” 

Danny swings around to look over the small apartment. The xiphos has been placed lovingly on one of the armchair’s cushions—the only one, Signal notes, without any blood splatters—and the door to Danny’s bedroom is open. 

Three guesses as to what Robin is trying to find in there.

Just as Batman opens his mouth to shout for Robin, a loud scraping sound peals through the door and Robin emerges, completely dwarfed by the new sword he’s carrying—dragging, really—towards them. 

Robin with a sword is always unsettling, but Robin with the biggest, brightest grin and a sword easily three times his size with literal actual teeth coming out of the blade, is downright terrifying.

“Nightwing!” Robin beams, the happiest that Signal has ever seen him. “I have a new request for a birthday present. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“So,” laughs Danny, his eyes crinkling around the edges, “you found the Zweihander.”

“Under the bed is no place to keep it, I had to move it if only to ensure you were treating it correctly.”

“Absolutely,” Danny says, his voice full of indulgence. The whiplash change from his predatory attack on the Joker, to the… whatever was happening with Batman that he absolutely doesn’t want to think about ever, and then to dealing with Robin with such kindness makes Signal’s head spin. “Not at all just because you wanted to look at it.”

“Of course not! Caring for your sword is paramount and it is disgraceful that you would keep it like that! Your teacher would be most displeased.”

"Nah, this is my other teacher and he keeps his in a pumpkin, so he has no room to talk."

The look that Robin throws Danny is so filthy, so repulsed that Signal almost feels bad for the guy. If looks could kill—or, maybe more accurately, if Robin could lift that sword higher than his waist—Danny would be dead right now.

As Robin comes further into the room and the tip of the blade crosses the threshold of the door, Signal can’t help but wince. A deep gouge in the laminate follows behind the blade, squealing like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Danny just sighs when he sees it and turns to Batman, “You’re paying for that, too.”

Batman only grunts in response, but he moves away from Danny, so Signal has to count that as a win.

“Signal,” Red Robin’s begins, voice crackling through the comms. Immediately, he puts his hand to his ear and steps away from whatever’s brewing between Danny and Batman.

“Go.”

“They’re fine. 12 of Joker’s guys were waiting outside the hospital, presumably for his orders, but we got ‘em. Zip-tied and waiting for the police now.”

“Thanks, Red. You too, Orphan.”

“Of course,” says Orphan, her voice quiet. “Glad you’re okay, Signal.”

“Police ETA roughly two minutes. If you’ve all gotten a good look at Danny, I suggest you file out sharpish, unless you want to be stuck explaining everything to the cops.” Oracle, ever the voice of reason, says.

Spoiler snorts and raises her hand to her face to whisper discreetly that the real reason Oracle wants them all gone is so they can’t make “Cuff me” jokes about Danny’s crush on the newly dubbed “Commish Dish”.

They can hear the sirens now, faint and a few streets away still, but the discordant blaring echoes through the buildings. There’s always a huge turnout for suspected Joker attacks, Signal really doesn’t envy Danny with what he’s about to face.

Still, he’s sure GCPD will be grateful for the scene they find here. Peeling Joker up off the floor without any sort of gunfight or civilian casualties will probably be a highlight spoken about for years.

“I’ll stay,” Batman says, breaking whatever kind of staring contest he and Danny had going on. “Signal to the cave and the rest of you back on your normal patrols. Keep an eye out for any more of Joker’s people, who knows what else he had brewing for tonight.”

Danny nods in agreement, as if he’s the one giving orders. It still amazes Signal how he’s able to stand against Batman. Yes, Signal’s still new at this, but he can’t help but think that the awe, the respect that he has for Batman as a teacher—as his mentor—will always be there. He’ll always be looking up to Batman, striving to make him proud, but Danny…

Again, he’s reminded of Superman and how he can stand next to Batman as an equal.

It's the confidence that only experience brings, he realises now.

Signal can only hope he gets there, one day.

“You guys take the box and the card,” Danny says, gathering up the only evidence left that Duke Marlon Thomas was the intended target, and passing it to Nightwing. “This was a random Joker attack, no rhyme nor reason for it other than he’s a clown in every sense of the word. It’s not like he’ll be able to say why he was really here.”

Danny winks— winks again!—at Batman, and Signal's never been so glad for the masks obscuring their faces. He really doesn't need to see how Batman feels about all this, he's heard enough of the horror stories from the others about their tangles with Catwoman.

All their eyes swivel to Batman, who in turn stares at Danny, really sizing him up.

They have another little moment and Signal very valiantly refuses to use his ghost sense to see which way Batman will fall. He can already feel a headache forming.

Finally, Batman nods his approval.

"If you've lied to us in any way, if you plan to use the information you've found out here today to hurt any of my fellow vigilantes, or if you use your magic or meta abilities to harm a Gotham citizen, I will not hesitate. We'll be keeping an eye on you, Danny Nightingale, do not make me regret it."

"Woah. No lie, chills. Look!" Danny holds up his arm, pointing at the raised hairs. “Spooked the goose right out of me.”

Batman doesn’t say anything. Nightwing looks on gleefully, like he’s found his new favourite expression.

Danny gives up trying to get Batman to look, and instead rubs at the back of his neck. “I get it, B-man, you’re just protecting your guys and I can appreciate that. Not a huge fan of being under surveillance, like at all, but if that’s what it takes… Unless maybe you want to go out and get to know each other the normal way?”

One of Batman’s earliest lessons is that silence is one of your greatest tools. It’s amazing, Signal thinks, watching the master at work. The hardest fight today has been Signal trying to not roll his eyes.

“No, okay, that’s fine, can’t say I’ve ever been into the normal way either.”

The ensuing awkward silence is broken by the blaring of police sirens as they tear down their street, and the clunk of an empty bowl on the counter top.

“Lovely popcorn, thanks for the show!” Spoiler claps lightly as she makes her way over to the window. Danny’s answering grin is blindingly bright. “Honestly, great time.”

Taking it as their signal to leave, Red Hood has to have the last laugh and gives the Joker a good kick as soon as he gets close enough. 

“I wasn’t joking about you being under my protection, you know. You want to move, you’ll always be safe in Crime Alley.”

“Uh, thanks. I’ll see how it goes. And for what it’s worth, I wasn’t joking, either. You’re under my protection, too. ” 

As they pass each other, Signal swears he sees a flash of their auras. Something familiar reaches out from the other to connect in the middle, but when he blinks, it’s gone.

Red Hood gives him one last, long, unreadable look, before heading out of the window. Did he feel it? Signal will have to ask him later. “I’ll see you around, clown-killer.”

“Didn’t kill him!” Danny says, waving cheerfully.

Then it’s Nightwing’s turn. He hangs around awkwardly for a little while, waiting for Batman to make his way closer to the door and away from them, and he keeps his voice low.

“I know Batman won’t, so I’ll say it for him. Thank you, Danny, for looking out for Signal like this. He may act like he’s above it, but Batman really does care about us all and something like this is just about his worst nightmare.”

“Nah, I get it.” Danny laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Unknowns and all that. I’m just glad it was me and not someone else.”

“Retired or not, you’re a true hero. Thanks, Danny. Come on, Robin, put the sword down!”

With a clap of his hand on his shoulder, Nightwing turns and follows the rest out of the window with Robin sulking behind him, and now it’s Signal’s turn.

What’s he meant to say?

“Danny, I… Again, I’m really sorry for getting you involved in this mess, but, uh, thank you. I’m safe, my family’s safe, my parents are safe… I can actually sleep easy now, because of you. Thank you.”

No matter how many times he says it, it won’t ever be enough. One single, stupid mistake was all it had taken to almost ruin his life, but Danny changed that. There’s no way he can thank him enough.

Danny’s smiling at him, soft and warm.

“You’re new at this, right? That’s what I got from the note, at least.”

“Yeah, pretty new. Does it show?”

“You’re doing great, buddy, don’t worry about it!” he laughs. “All of the guys I was regularly fighting during my time knew who I was the second they met me, so you’re doing better than I was!”

“Is that what you meant when you said your identity was compromised?”

Because no offence to Danny, but that doesn’t sound anything like what Signal had imagined. What Danny said sounded bad.

“Nah, my guys were pretty cool. They understood the need to keep it secret from those that really mattered.” Danny smiles softly, lost in his memories. “Joker’s not gonna be like that though, hence why I did what I did. If he ever hurts you, if he ever comes after you or your family again, let me know, okay?”

Carefully, Signal doesn’t say anything. Batman’s eyes burn into the back of his head and he knows exactly what’s expected of him here.

“I never wanted to be a vigilante.” Danny continues, that same, soft look in his eyes. “I’m glad I did what I did, don’t get me wrong, but… I lost a lot of people because of it. It’s a heavy burden to bear.”

When Danny looks up, his eyes blaze a toxic neon green that bursts through the room, an explosion of power so vast that Signal staggers back and throws a hand up to shield his face. Surely, even Batman must see it!

“Is this something you want to do, Duke? Do you want to be Signal? Truly?”

Does he? 

To begin with, it was something he could do to avenge his parents, to pull Gotham out of the Robin War, to help Bruce, but now… He’s seen the good that Batman and the others have done in the city, and, more importantly, he’s seen what they protect the people from. Now, it’s more than his own personal vendetta, it’s something he can do to help everyone. He can protect them, he can uphold the good, he can provide justice.

He can help, just as well as the Bats can.

He can do it and so he will.

“Yes.” 

Slowly, surely, he stands up straight and turns to face Danny, squinting away the tears and afterimages burnt into his vision. 

“Yes, I do.”

Just as quickly as it appeared, Danny flips a switch, and the light is gone. His eyes fade back to their icy blue, and that’s it, it’s all normal. Like it never happened.

Signal closes his eyes, takes a deep breath to centre himself, and looks—really looks—at Danny, with all of his abilities, expecting him to have changed somehow, to be stronger, taller, floating, transformed— something— that hints at the power underneath, but… there he is. Still Danny, normal and human.

Just what the hell is he?

“Good. I’m glad.” He’s smiling again, as if nothing ever happened, only tensing slightly when he looks over Signal’s shoulders to find Batman still lurking. “Listen, if you ever need anything: some help, or to talk about shit with someone who knows what’s up, or even if you just need some space away from… all of it, then my door is always open for you. Or my window, if you prefer, just… Please don’t smash them.”

Danny turns around to find the rest of them still crouched on the fire escape, gawking at them both. Just how much had they seen of Danny’s display, or was it purely for Duke’s benefit?

“That goes for all of you, alright? I still want my match with you Robin, and Red Hood, you better fix my window or you’re going to find yourself haunted!”

The gang all grin, laugh, wave, and salute, as they all peel away from the apartment and begin their patrols proper. As charming as ever, Red Hood sticks his middle finger up instead before he goes.

Chuckling, Danny returns the gesture, and turns back towards Signal with an easy smile on his face.

There’s a squeal of tires and sirens as the police finally turn up.

“I mean it, you know. Don’t hesitate. I’ve been around the block a few times, I know what it’s like. Offer’s always open.”

“Thanks, Danny. For everything… I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, happy to help.” Danny’s smile turns soft, his eyes growing fond with no hint of the power that lies beneath them. “You’re gonna do great, kid.”

And Signal believes him.