Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Quiet days didn’t exist. Perhaps they did for others, but not for those burdened by the responsibility of power and the moral drive to do the right thing. Even so, it was easy enough to pretend that the day was quiet, if only for a moment.

Batman stood in the Watchtower’s main meeting room. It’d changed a lot since those early days. What was once a single round table with six chairs was now far larger, with many more chairs, and shaped like a horseshoe. Projectors allowed for holo screens to float behind those who sat at the head of the table for debriefs and the open space at the end allowed for them to listen to others who didn’t have a seat to speak to the League. Unlike many other rooms in the Watchtower, this one had no windows to view the planet below the station or distant space. Here, secrets were divulged and kept.

BAM!

The door flew open as Constantine rushed inside. The Brit looked more haggard than usual, the bags under his eyes deeper and his blond hair stuck up in random places. Constantine’s beige trench coat, white shirt, and inappropriately loose red tie desperately needed to be washed. Hell, the man almost had a beard instead of his perpetual five o’clock-shadow. In his hands were a variety of scrolls, books, and loose papers that he unceremoniously dumped onto the table. When Batman turned to face Constantine neither his expression nor his demeanor gave away any of Batman’s thoughts or emotions. The only thing Batman showed was his shadowy demeanor and an intense gaze that missed nothing.

“Constantine,” Batman grunted, his low and gravelly voice deadly serious. He had reason to be. Constantine actively avoided stepping foot into the Watchtower. On the rare instances he wanted Batman’s attention, Constantine met Batman in Gotham. This wasn’t just out of character for the Brit, it was alarming.

“Where is everyone,” Constantine asked as he started spreading his things out onto the table, his movements hurried.

“On standby.”

“Why the fuck aren’t they on standby in here? Christ!” Constantine wheeled around to glare at Batman. “First time I call a bloody meeting and you can’t be bothered to do it properly? Aren’t you the one always going on about how important it is to come to these bloody things?”

“I want to know the situation first before-”

“We don’t have time for your paranoia.” Constantine snapped as he searched the desk’s surface looking for the control panel that he knew was there. Batman stepped over and pressed a previously invisible button.

“Emergency meeting. All available members-”

“Fuck that.” Constantine shoved Batman aside and smashed the com button himself. “Everyone in the meeting room. NOW!”

While they waited for everyone to join them, Batman tried to get Constantine to explain things before everyone arrived. Constantine blew him off in favor of getting all of his shit sorted, namely spells to prevent any magical eyes and ears from listening in. That and he didn’t want to repeat the bad news. This wasn’t the kind of thing anyone wanted to say at all, let alone more than once. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the spots to fill up. Not everyone was there. Many were off-world or busy with their own missions. The usual suspects like Green Lantern, Flash, Superman, Hawk Woman, Zatanna, Black Canary, and Shazam filtered in. To Batman’s surprise, there were a few faces he didn’t expect to see. Namely Red Hood, Jason Blood, and Deadman. Constantine must have called them.

“Constantine called a meeting? Oh, this’ll be rich,” Flash said as he lounged in his seat, his feet crossed on the table as the other members took their seats.

“What’s wrong with that,” Shazam asked, his brows pinched in confusion, partially due to Flash’s question but also due to the variety of ancient tomes that occupied the head of the table. Zatanna eyed them as well with a deep-set frown. “Seems important.”

“Oh yeah. I’m sure. The world is ending right?” Flash rolled his hand in a sarcastic wave. “Always is. But whenever it’s Constantine the world is somehow ending even worse than usual. Some nasty demon or whatever wants to get into this universe blah, blah, blah. It’s not that big of a deal. Just tell me where the portal is and I’ll go grab whatever stupid crystal thingy powers it. Bam. No more problems.”

If looks could kill then Flash would be dead on the spot from the absolute venom in Constantine’s glare. “Yes,” Constantine spat. “The world is ending. Whole damn dimension will if we don’t stop this.” Flash rolled his eyes, but Constantine plowed forward. He pressed a button and a dozen mugshots from around the world popped up on floating hollo-screens. “Meet the members of The Cult of Infinite Death, run by this fucker,” Constantine motioned to a picture of a man who looked like an average suburban dad in his late fifties. The text beneath it scrolled with a seemingly never ending list of crimes; most of which were murder or worse. “Frank Willington. This psychopath’s got a rap sheet longer than the Watchtower is tall and buried just as many bodies.”

“But he looks so… normal.” Shazam looked even more confused. “Like my er- like middle school teacher… The kind I used to go to ages ago… Back when I was a kid. But that was a long time ago.” Several Leaguers shot Shazam a variety of looks as Shazam was supposed to be several thousand years old, but before any of them could get off-topic Batman cleared his throat.

“Most of the real sickos do,” said Constantine. “This lot somehow decided to not only jump headfirst into the world of magic, but to go straight to the one thing no one, and I mean no one should ever touch: The Ghost King.” Shazam gasped as Zatanna turned sheet white.

“So… you want us to fight a ghost?” Green Lantern raised a brow and motioned to the screen. “No offense, but I don’t see how this is full League material. Why can't Justice League Dark handle this like you normally do?”

“This is a lot worse than a ghost.” Zatanna stood and headed over to the scrolls and books Constantine brought with him. “Are you sure they figured it out?”

“Damn, sure.” Constantine pulled out his flask and took a more than healthy swig before continuing. “Don’t let the name fool you. The Ghost King isn’t just the king of ghosts. He’s the king of the whole god damned Infinite Realms. We’re not talking heaven or hell or any other thousand afterlives. The Realms are the afterlife. Every other afterlife exists inside them. All dimensions, living and dead, are attached to it. It’s the place where entire dimensions go when they die. The spot where gods get put to rest. Even Death will end up there one day. And the Ghost King is the one in charge of it all. They’re everyone’s boss’s boss. The last one at the end of the line. Eventually, everyone and everything will fall under their domain.”

Constantine paused to look around the room and let his words sink in. Tension filled the air. Even Flash looked serious, if a bit skeptical. “So far, we’ve all been lucky. The Ghost King stays in the Infinite Realms and not many are dumb enough to go poking at that cursed place. Those that do always end up as permanent residents. Most of the time before they can leave any trace of their idiocy. Although there are a few who managed to last long enough to write some shit down.”

“What do you have?” Batman didn’t like going into this fight with practically no information. Or any fight for that matter. The more they knew, the better.

“Mostly that the place is a mindfuck hellscape filled with extremely powerful ghosts and rules that make no sense. I’d say we should be thankful that The Cult of Infinite Death isn’t trying to open a portal to that god-forsaken place, but that’d honestly be preferable to our current situation. We don’t have a lot of time either. Willington’s preparing the ritual as we speak.”

Zatanna cut in, nodding in apology to Constantine who took the interruption in stride. “The Ghost King is the single most dangerous entity in every Realm and we are very lucky that the King remains there. Even those who are insane enough to mess with the Realms steer clear of the King. No one in any history has even dared to make a summoning circle for the King. It’d only spell doom for their entire universe. Likely several others as well. What could possibly possess these people to do such a thing?”

“Oh, believe me, love, if they were possessed we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Constantine went to take another drink, but a glare from Batman had him lowering the flask with a grumble.

“Right now, the ‘why’ isn’t important. We’ll figure that out later.” Batman stepped forward to take charge. “We need to find the cult and stop them before they summon the Ghost King. Constantine, I take it you know where they are?”

“Luckily, I do.” Constantine pushed another button and a map of Utah appeared with a bright red dot on the outskirts of Salt Lake City. “Problem is, they’ve got the place guarded to hell and back. Not just with mages. They pulled in anyone with a penchant for murder. Even worse, because this is magic, some of our heavy hitters are automatic no-gos.” The table all turned to look at Superman. He hunched over and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “As is a good portion of Justice League Dark. Blood and Deadman are too close to the Realms. If the summoning ritual starts, there’s a good chance they’ll turn on us against their will. After all, they’re already subjects of the King.”

“But you called all of us here,” Batman said. “What’s your plan?”

“Me, Batsy, Martian Manhunter, Hood, and Shazam will break into the compound and stop the ritual. Anyone who can stand magic and bullets will act as backup to keep the guards at bay. Everyone else…” Constantine looked to Flash and Superman. “You’re on evacuation. And I mean everyone.” Even if they stopped the ritual or managed to reverse it, the casualties were bound to be enormous. That kind of energy didn’t simply go away. It lingered like a deadly miasma, stretching invisible bony fingers to any within reach. Not to mention all the actual serial killers on the loose.

“Excuse me,” Martian Manhunter politely said with a raise of his hand. “But why me?”

“Because ghosts of the realms, even the Ghost King, are beings made from emotions. Well… That’s what all the literature says at least.” Manhunter raised a brow at that. Shazam looked nervous. Batman suppressed an eye twitch. They didn’t have nearly enough information. Constantine continued on, uncaring of his co-workers' plights. “If the King is summoned, your telepathy might be enough to confuse the bastard long enough for us to shove them back inside.”

“And if it’s not?” Batman looked to Constantine, his scowl deep and clearly unhappy.

“Then Zatanna gives it a try after we’re all dead.” Constantine pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “If she can’t do it, well… Hopefully the end is quick.”

Chapter Text

The next few hours were barely organized chaos. Heroes called their sidekicks. The various teams scattered around the globe either joined the main battle or were assigned to monitor other hotspots around the globe. Crime didn’t stop just because one group decided to end the world.

Once everyone was ready and in place, they didn’t wait. Nor did they have time for stealth. Green Lantern, Zatanna, and Hawk Woman led the charge, bringing with them a whole host of heroes. They bowled through the cult’s compound, literally smashing through walls to pave the way for Batman and the rest of Team Alpha. Batman, who memorized the compound’s layout from blueprints that Oracle got for him, led the way. Manhunter, Shazam, and Constantine took care of any magic users. Red Hood and Batman took out the goons with guns.

The sounds of the battle outside became muffled as they delved deeper into the compound. After searching for nearly ten minutes, they found a set of double doors that were heavily guarded. Or at least, what the cult likely thought of as heavy. The two magic users and the pair of goons with AKs went down as quickly as their friends. Behind the doors was a long flight of stairs that circled three floors down. An ominous skull painted in Lazarus green decorated the doors at the bottom.

Slowing down, Batman quietly pushed the door open to peek through. Sure enough, Willington stood in black robes with the other criminals from Constantine’s presentation. Batman counted twenty serial killers in total, all of them visibly armed with weapons and manic glee. Three of Willington’s acolytes busied themselves by finishing a massive rune drawn in white that was easily ten feet in diameter. Batman didn’t recognize any of the symbols, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize the summoning circle. Five smaller circles branched off from the main one, each only two or three feet in diameter with a bowl set at the connection points.

Beyond the summoning circle sat a dias with a lectern. Willington stood behind it, his focus on the thick tome atop the lectern. Bookshelves full of books and various magical artifacts decorated the walls. Several tables and chairs stood next to the shelves, clearly pushed aside for the sake of the ritual. A clock on the wall rang like a grandfather clock, the sound echoey and ominous. Willington’s eyes snapped up and he smiled at Batman. “Finally.”

Everything went dark.

Sharp, fiery pain down his arm and a pounding headache awoke Batman. Hissing through his teeth, he jerked as an acolyte set aside a bloody blade. She held a bowl to his exposed and bleeding arm, allowing the red liquid to flow lazily into the hollow. Ropes bound Batman’s hands, feet, and chest to the chair he sat in. When he tried to move they sparked with magical runes, keeping him pinned. “I wouldn’t do that. They’ll tighten if you move too much.” The acolyte, Connie Hartweather, smiled sweetly at him. “Don’t worry dear. We won’t kill you. Just needed a little sample. See?” She pulled the bowl away from his arm and swirled his own blood in front of him. “Such a pretty color,” Connie cooed. She reached a finger into the bowl, but someone nearby cleared their throat. Sheepish, Connie pulled her dry finger back.

“Don’t contaminate the sacrifice,” another acolyte, Nuru Bazzi, snapped. They scowled with distaste as they held their own bowl against Constantine’s arm. One look around the room showed the rest of Team Alpha in the same situation, each with a bump on the head and tied to a chair in their own smaller circle. One by one, the acolytes collected their blood before returning the bowls to their previous spots. Whenever one of them tried to move or escape (through physical or magical means) the ropes glowed and tightened. Even Manhunter couldn’t get free.

Closing his eyes and bowing his head, Manhunter telepathically reached out to search for Zatanna’s mind. But he quickly hit a block. Not just in the room, but in his own mind too. Something prevented him from reaching out to anyone. Alarmed, he looked at Batman and shook his head. They were on their own.

“Friends!” Willington raised his hands and all movement stopped. “Brothers. Sisters. Siblings. We are the wretched and the wicked.”

The acolytes bowed their heads and as one chanted ”We are the wretched and the wicked.”

“Our souls are damned. Not by fate or contract, but by our own hands. Artists such as ourselves are simply not appreciated. Our craft is considered monstrous. And well…” Willington grinned maniacally. “That’s what makes it so fun.” Amused chuckles shifted through the room, but a single raised hand from Willington silenced them instantly.

“Various damnations await us all. Hell. Tartarus. Whatever you may call it. But there is a place, one spoken about in only a single text.” Willington petted the book before him like a cherished lover. “A place where only the most vile of souls go. It is a place ruled by sin. It is our salvation!”

”For we are the wretched and the wicked.”

“There, our crimes will be appreciated!” The murderers cheered at Willingto’s words. “Valued!” The acolytes roared. “But what we have done is not enough! Not yet. With this,” Silence returned as Willington gestured toward the summoning circle and trapped heroes. “This crime will see us as kings. I had visions of this moment. The gods of desecration guided me, showed me what we needed to summon our Infinite King and how to claim our final sacrifices.”

Willington pointed at Batman. “Blood of the Righteous.” The circle beneath Batman started to glow Lazarus green. His finger moved to Constantine. “Blood of the Damned.” Another circle lit. Willington’s finger moved over to Red Hood. “Blood of Life and Death.” Next at Martian Manhunter. “Blood of the Stars.” Finally, it rested at Shazam. “Blood of the Gods.”

With all the sacrificial circles lit, the central one blazed to life. The temperature in the room plummeted as the voices of the acolytes started to rise, chanting in a language that even Batman didn’t recognize.

“Come forth, my King! Deliver us to our damnation!”

Chapter Text

The low monotone drone of Mr. Lancer’s voice as he explained how to find x threatened to put not just Danny, but the whole class, to sleep. The whine of the AC unit mixed with the incessant ticking of the perpetually three-and-a-half-minute slow clock, creating an odd dissonance that enhanced the sleepy side effects of an overweight, middle-aged, bald teacher who was just as bored with his material as his teenage students. Danny blinked slowly, his chin resting on his palm as he stared off into the middle distance. His other hand traveled over the page in his notebook; whether it actually wrote anything legible or simply scribbled, Danny couldn’t say. The important thing was that his hand moved to give the appearance of attention. Hopefully, it was enough to avoid yet another detention.

Next to Danny, Sam yawned. Oh his other side, Tucker snoozed quietly with his phone in his lap, his fingers hovering mid-text. Half the class was in a similar state. Danny’s eyes drooped. Each blink grew longer and longer. He thought he heard his sister lecturing him, telling him that growing boys needed to sleep more but he also shouldn’t sleep in class. It wasn’t his fault that he only got two to three hours a night. Four if he was obscenely lucky. Between detention, homework, and ghost attacks Danny barely had enough time to eat! He was chronically late to his classes. His grades dropped to a C average, although he was at risk of failing two classes if he didn’t get good grades on the midterm.

Wait… was that Jazz’s voice? Danny’s brows knitted together. No. That definitely wasn’t Jazz. Danny opened his eyes, figuring he’d fallen asleep but no, the voices remained. They sounded far off but grew louder with every passing moment. Now fully awake, Danny looked around. No one else seemed to notice. Danny motioned to Sam. Once he got her attention she sat up as well, but when Danny tapped his ear she only shrugged. That meant either she didn’t hear anything or didn’t know what he meant. Either way, not helpful.

Huffing, Danny tried to subtly reach over and swat Tucker awake, but he barely made it halfway across the aisle before pain shot through Danny’s chest like a burning lance that pierced his heart and ghost core. “GAH!” Gasping, Danny collapsed onto the ground. Now everyone was awake. Voices of his teacher and classmates rose in alarm, but the chanting in his head drowned them out. He knew he heard Tucker and Sam call his name, but he couldn’t respond. It felt like something had his chest in a vice. Danny couldn’t breathe. Sweat dripped down his forehead as his ghost core surged to the surface. He shut his eyes, knowing that if he opened them they’d glow. It took everything Danny had not to transform right then and there.

Familiar hands grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. Tucker and Sam continued to talk to him. He couldn’t understand what they said, but the meaning got across. They were getting him out of there. Likely with some excuse to Mr. Lancer. Probably the nurse. Danny certainly felt bad enough to need one. He kind of needed one. Too bad the school didn’t have one that specialized in half-ghosts.

“Danny.” Sam sounded so quiet in comparison to the chanting. He felt her hands on his cheeks.

“What’s happening,” he heard Tucker ask. Tucker sounded panicked. Sam too.

“I don’t know. Danny, open your eyes. Talk to us!” Danny cracked his eyes open and saw Sam’s face right in front of his, her expression pale and terrified. “Danny? Can you hear me? What’s happening?” He couldn’t muster a response quick enough. “Tucker, get Jazz.”

“I-” Danny wheezed. Suddenly, his transformation rings appeared. Not just them. But a giant glowing ring of toxic green appeared on the ground beneath him. Yelping, Sam scrambled back and out of the way. Danny tried to follow, but the moment he fully went ghost the ring beneath him exploded in a fountain of ectoplasm.

“DANNY!”

Chapter Text

Exploding light blinded everyone in the room. The temperature shot down to far below freezing. When Batman finally got his vision back, every non-living surface was encased in frost. Each breath he took condensed before him, forming a visible puff of air. The room smelled like iron and snow. Shazam’s and Constantine’s teeth chattered. Even Martian Manhunter looked a little cold. The cult members weren’t much better. The only reason Batman and Red Hood weren’t shivering with the rest of them was a combination of mulish pride and heavily ingrained training.

Floating in the middle of the summoning circle a few feet off the ground was a figure. At first, Batman wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking at. It was white and black and glowed around the edges. But on closer inspection, he realized what he saw: a small figure curled into a tight ball, their arms wrapped around their head to protect themselves.

A tense silence hung in the room, all eyes on the floating figure. At first, they didn’t do much other than hover, their body rising and falling minutely. Slowly, the body started to uncurl. Each movement was tentative. Unsure. Halting. Like they expected to get hit at any second. The arms moved enough for Batman to catch a peek of glowing green eyes. Lazarus green. Red Hood inhaled sharply. Constantine cursed. Martian Manhunter… looked oddly curious. His head tilted to the side and he frowned, clearly unhappy and confused with whatever he felt, but not as agitated as Batman expected.

Those green eyes blinked a few times and the figure seemed to grow braver. They, no, he finally unfolded enough for Batman to see something that broke his heart. A boy in his teens floated in the middle of the circle meant for the Ghost King. Batman estimated him to be no taller than 5’5” and likely underweight. The black and white Batman saw earlier turned out to be some kind of hazmat suit. He looked around, confused and scared. When he and Batman locked eyes, that fear turned into downright terror.

“Shit!” The kid’s voice echoed unnaturally and he shot another two feet into the air. Wild-eyed, he turned in every direction, either to examine his whereabouts or search for a way out. Probably a bit of both. “W-why? What? I…” The kid gestured wildly at Batman and addressed the whole room. “Why is Batman tied to a chair?”

Alarm bells blared in Batman’s mind. This was supposed to be the Ghost King, a being of immense power, but one that never left the Infinite Realms. So how did he know who Batman was? Why did that scare him? Or at least… why did he act like Batman’s presence scared him? Perhaps in an attempt to continue the ruse? He could be playing up the innocent child act to put them all off guard or trying to downplay his own abilities so that everyone underestimated him. There was also Manhunter’s subdued reaction to take into consideration. Several different theories bounced around Batman’s mind, none of them good but for very different reasons.

…What if this wasn’t a trick?

“My King,” Willington said triumphantly as he bowed. The rest of the cult followed their leader’s example. “We, your humble servants, offer you these sacrifi-”

“Is this a cult?” The teen’s voice cracked and sounded incredulous. “Seriously?” He threw his hands up into the air and dropped onto the ground, landing on his feet. Red Hood jerked forward, the motion so minute it didn’t even activate the spell on his ropes. “How cliche can you get? And you tied up Batman?” The boy gestured to Batman again before he looked at the other heroes, only to gasp the moment he laid eyes on Martian Manhunter. “Holy shit, you tied up Martian Manhunter.” The man in question balked even as the boy turned to snap at Willington. “Why did you tie up my favorite hero?!” Manhunter and Shazam exchanged bewildered glances.

“They are sacrifices for you, my King.”

That seemed to catch the boy off guard. “I’m not a King.”

Willington chuckled and bowed again. “This humble servant could never mistake the Ghost King for any other. And now I beseech you to-”

The boy suddenly burst out laughing. He doubled over, holding his stomach as he wheezed. Willington and the other cultists stared at him in shock. Constantine whispered frantically at them to not be fooled as ghosts could take any form and just because he looked like a kid didn’t make him one. Hood remained still while Shazam’s jaw dropped, bewildered by the events unfolding before them. Manhunter smiled. For Batman, it finally clicked. That was a child. He lived with enough of them to spot the real thing a mile away.

“Holy crap. Did I get wrong number summoned? That’s amazing. Also kind of horrifying because I didn’t know I could be summoned, but that is a skipped therapy session and an existential crisis to ignore for another day.” The ghost boy wiped a tear away as he straightened. “Also, I really wouldn’t recommend summoning the actual Ghost King. Guy’s an asshat and really grumpy when you wake him up. Tried to invade the living plane last time he woke up.” Poor Shazam looked ready to puke. Constantine not so quietly wished for a merciful death. “And it sucked shoving him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. Please don’t make me do that again.”

Willington looked increasingly put out with every word that came out of the boy’s mouth. “Please do not insult me, my King. There is no mistake.”

“I didn’t insult you, but if you want I can point out how you clearly failed Cult 101. There aren’t even any spooky candles.” The ghost gestured to the summoning circle. “Also, and I can’t believe I have to say this; I’m not Pariah Dark! I’m Phantom.” Phantom gestured to the logo on his chest as if that made his point for him. Batman memorized it.

Phantom walked to the edge of the summoning circle, stopping just short of exiting. He knelt down with a contemplative look. “So can I like… leave?” Phantom shot a tentative glance at Batman and shuffled a few inches away from the Dark Knight. “Also like… if you’re a ghost cult can I order you to let these guys go? I’m not the Ghost King, but I am still a ghost so…”

Constantine sat up straighter and shouted, “I’ll tell you how to get out if you make a pact with me!” Child or not, magical pacts were dangerous things. Something Constantine repeatedly vented about whenever someone else tried to make one.

“Constantine,” Batman barked. He shot the mage a look in a clear order to stand down.

The cult erupted into shouts of indignation. “My King, do not fall for this man’s-”

“Deal.” Phantom floated over to Constantine with a wide grin, showing off a pair of small inhuman fangs. Constantine swallowed but pushed forward, pointedly ignoring Shazam’s pleas and Batman’s glare.

“In exchange for knowledge on how to leave and my eternal soul, you’ll peacefully return to the Infinite Realms in addition to sparing this dimension and everyone in it.”

“What?! No! Constantine!” Shazam cried. He struggled against the ropes until they squeezed so hard he struggled to breathe. “You can’t!”

“I bloody well can, now shut up and let me do my fucking job!”

“Why would I want your soul? Gross.” Phantom made a pinched face and shook his head. Constantine fumbled for something to say, but Phantom continued. “Yeah. No thanks. How about this,” Phantom glanced over to Batman again and grimaced. “I spare everyone in this dimension, get those guys prepped for jail, untie you guys, go home, then everyone leaves me alone and we all forget this ever happened. Especially Batman. Deal?” Phantom clapped his hands together with a strained but hopeful expression. It reminded Bruce of when one of his kids asked for something they weren’t sure he’d allow in an attempt to get out of trouble.

Constantine narrowed his eyes at Phantom, the gears in his head turning. “Sounds fair enough,” Manhunter interjected. Shazam reluctantly nodded in agreement.

“No!” Willington heard enough. He stormed down the dias. Phantom groaned, rolled his eyes as they turned a startlingly pale blue, and then shot a bright beam from his hand at Willington. The man shouted as ice encased his feet, freezing him to the floor. The acolytes started to scramble in hysteric terror.

“I seriously hate cultists,” Phantom petulantly moaned.

“Release us first and you have a deal,” Constantine shouted over the cacophony that was the acolytes fighting to get to the door.

“Done!”

“The circle has nothing to keep you in. Now I hold you to your word!” Phantom reeled back at the reveal. He opened his mouth to say something, but Constantine continued to push. “We made a deal.”

“Right, right.” Phantom froze the door, encasing it in ice to prevent any more escapes. When his eyes returned to normal he flew over to tug at Constantine’s bindings. The runes flared to life, but vibrant green ectoplasm bubbled from between Phantom’s fingers, burning the ropes away. As soon as Constantine was free he cast a spell and all of the ropes keeping the remaining heroes bound immediately vanished.

Chaos reigned once more as the heroes and Phantom rounded up all of the cultists, knocking them out (or in Phantom’s case freezing them to the ground) one by one until every criminal was successfully captured. During the entire fight, Red Hood remained close to Phantom, acting as the ghost’s shadow as he shot cultists with rubber bullets. Once finished, Phantom grinned big and bright. Shazam offered the ghost a high five, which Phantom happily returned. Swearing and grumbling to himself, Constantine stormed over to the dias and immediately started flipping through the tome with even more curses.

Phantom tossed Constantine a concerned look, but Martian Manhunter took his attention when he placed a hand on the ghost boy’s shoulder. “Worry not, young one. He is always like that.” Phantom looked like he died again and went to heaven. There was pure worship in his eyes as he gazed up at Martian Manhunter.

“Oh my gosh. Okay. Hi! I know we already made a deal and everything, but can I add in an autograph from you? Please?”

“Do not!” Constantine barked from where he was without even looking up from the text. Phantom’s expression fell and he resembled a kicked puppy. Red Hood tensed and his hands balled into fists as his helmet turned Constantine’s way.

“I do not see the harm,” said Manhunter.

“I hate to be that guy and agree with Constantine but… he’s kind of right. Giving out your signature to supernatural entities is not a great idea. No offense.” Shazam flashed Phantom a sheepish smile.

“Uh, total offense! What am I gonna do, forge it?” Phantom put his hands on his hips as he glared back. Shazam frowned and opened his mouth to say something, only for the wisdom of Solomon to kick in. He closed his mouth again.

The only one who had yet to say anything was Red Hood. The full-face metallic mask prevented Batman from seeing his expression and Hood’s body language was somewhat unreadable and his reactions strange. Red Hood tracked Phantom’s movements, only looking away momentarily to stare at Constantine. Kids, especially injured and abused ones, were always a trigger for Hood’s Pit Rage. If Batman didn’t know Hood better, he would have put Hood’s unnatural attention down to that. Except none of Hood’s usual signs of barely repressed rage were there. He was focused and angry at Constantine, but not murderously so. Jason was still in control. Did the Ghost King’s influence extend to Red Hood?

“Phantom,” Constantine barked, interrupting the rapidly growing argument between Phantom and Shazam. The ghost boy looked over his shoulder and floated over when Constatine motioned for him. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen. Why?” Batman’s blood turned to ice. Hood violently flinched. Grief and sorrow passed over Shazam and Manhunter. Batman knew Phantom was young, but hearing his actual age made it all the more real. This was a dead child. One so painfully close to Jason’s age when he- Batman pushed back the memories. Now was not the time. It never would be…

“Not how old you were when you died. I mean how long ago.” Constantine finally pulled himself away from the book on the lectern and headed for a nearby shelf filled with magical artifacts. What was he looking for?

“Oh uh… that’s kind of rude to ask.” Phantom wrung his hands as he floated back a foot.

“I know. I’ve got a reason for asking. How many hundreds are we talking about?” Constantine didn’t find what he wanted on that shelf. He shifted to the next, barely bothering to look at the increasingly uncomfortable Phantom. Hood tried to move closer but Batman stepped in Hood’s way. Red Hood turned his head toward his former mentor, his expression hidden behind his helmet, but his frustration as clear as day.

“Weeeell… Two?”

“Shit. Only two hundred?” Constantine ran a hand down his face. Exhaustion and exasperation weighed heavily on the Brit’s shoulders. He stared up at the ceiling and asked at no one in particular, “Why me?”

“Uh… no. Not two-hundred. Just two.” Danny sheepishly held up two fingers. That got Constantine cursing up a storm again and his search through the artifacts turned frantic.

“Let me help,” said Shazam “What are you looking for?”

“A warding stone. Because apparently, we have an infant god on our hands.” Constantine waved at Phantom who did a double take. Shazam only nodded and headed across the room to look over there.

“Woah, what?! No! I’m just a ghost. Not the Ghost King and especially not a god!”

“Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but you’re both.” Before Danny could argue, Constantine pointed to the summoning circle. “There’s only two outcomes with those things. One, the circle is done incorrectly and it doesn’t work. Two, it works and you summon whatever it was you were stupid enough to call. That circle worked. That makes you the Ghost King.”

“That’s…. No. I’m not. I can’t be.” Phantom carded a hand through his white hair as he tried to come up with an argument. The poor kid looked so far out of his depth. Hood tried to step around Batman, but Batman blocked his way again.

“Well, you said you fought the last Ghost King, right?” Shazam paused his search to look at Phantom who nodded. “So maybe you won the title.”

“Doesn’t work like that.” Constantine moved to the next shelf. By that point, he started tossing away anything that was wrong and didn’t look like it’d explode if it broke. “The Ghost King isn’t a title you can win. You got it the moment you died.” Phantom flinched.

“Constantine,” Red Hood said. The distortion from Hood’s helmet did nothing to hide the warning tone. “Back off.”

“What about Pariah Dark?!” Phantom’s voice cracked and his hands flew in random directions as he scrambled for his arguments. “He said he was the Ghost King and I met him after I died.”

“Then he either lied or didn’t get the memo that he lost his job. No matter what, you became the Ghost King the moment you became a ghost.” Constantine stopped and stared at a small crystal the size of a walnut. He snatched it before heading over to a different shelf full of magical ingredients. Shazam noticed and ran over to help Constantine grab said ingredients to prepare… something. Batman didn’t know what and needed to find out, but he didn’t want to interrupt Constantine and Phantom either. Nor did he want to let Red Hood free. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and you tell me when I’m wrong. You’re stronger than other ghosts. Despite the fact that you’ve only been around for two fucking years, you’re a lot stronger than you have any right to be and you got there extremely fast.” Phantom shifted, visibly uncomfortable. “Hell, I bet you have more power than you know what to do with. Not to mention the fact that other ghosts flock to you. Probably can’t get rid of them. You’ve also got powers that they don’t.”

“Well… yeah, but I-”

“Enough, Constantine,” Red Hood growled. He tried to shove Batman aside, but the Dark Knight refused to budge.

“Phantom,” Shazam said softly, doing his best to be kind. “It takes hundreds of years for a ghost to get anywhere close to your power level. Maybe only a few decades for ghosts of the Infinite Realms because they exist there, but still. Constantine’s right. You’re not a regular ghost. The summoning proved that.”

“What does this have to do with what you’re making,” Batman finally asked.

“I’m jury-rigging an anti-tracking device. Now that these morons summoned you, they’ve basically put up a flood light and a giant blinking sign saying ‘Baby god here.’ The fact that we’re all still alive means that anyone with even an ounce of magic will not only know what happened but also that you’re not going to murder everyone right away. Which makes you exploitable. Especially since you apparently know nothing about magic. Getting you to agree to a contract was terrifyingly easy.”

Shazam stepped back so Constantine could cast his spell on the little crystal. It now hung from a chain with a cradle made of hastily bent wire. Rough, but workable. When Constantine finished casting, he unceremoniously tossed it to Phantom. The young king scrambled to catch it, only barely managing to avoid dropping it. Constantine didn’t bother to watch Phantom fumble. He stomped back to grab the tome on the dias before making his way to the summoning circle that he promptly erased. Constantine even broke the ground with a spell for good measure. “That should keep summoners and magicians off your back until I can come up with a more permanent solution. Once I do, I’ll summon you again.”

“Oooor you can call me.” Phantom waggled a phone that he produced from who knows where. Batman’s brows shot up as an entire parade’s worth of red flags waved. Constantine’s jaw moved like a fish out of water, his eyes wide with alarm. After a moment, he headed for the nearest chair and placed his head in his hands out of despair. None of them were prepared for this. There might be a good explanation for why Phantom knew about Batman. Batman knew for a fact that other versions of him existed in alternate dimensions. Timelines altered by choices that Batman never made in his reality. But a phone? One that obviously resembled a Wayne Tech smartphone? This wasn’t Phantom’s first time in the living plane. Moreover, if that phone worked on this Earth, it wasn’t his first time in THIS dimension. Neither Constantine nor Batman liked those implications. “That summon thing seriously hurt, so I’d really like to avoid doing that again.”

“Give me your number too,” Batman grunted. Phantom eyed Batman with no small amount of trepidation. He held his phone close to his chest and floated backward. This time, Red Hood was the one to head Batman off.

“I’ll take it. If you need to contact him, you can ask me. Sound fair?” Red Hood looked over to Phantom who seemed confused. The longer Phantom stared at Red Hood, the more baffled he became. His brows furrowed deeply and his mouth became a thin line of worry. This was the first time Phantom paid attention to Red Hood and something about Hood bothered him. Batman’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Yeah. Okay… You two can have it. Or maybe three?” Phantom tossed a hopeful and silent plea to Martian Manhunter who chuckled and nodded. “Yes!”

“Me too!” Shazam pulled his own phone out and opened it to a new contact. Phantom shrugged and took Shazam’s phone. “Oh, man. I can’t wait to tell everyone I have the Ghost King’s number! Although, do phones work in the Infinite Realms?”

“If you mean the Ghost Zone, then kinda. Mine does, but it’s custom.” Phantom shrugged as he repeated the process with Manhunter’s phone. That statement opened up more possibilities, but it didn’t disprove Batman’s growing theory.

“Do you need help returning home, young one?” There wasn’t any sign of the trepidation Martian Manhunter had when they first entered the compound. Of course not. He was a telepath and empath. Ghosts were beings of emotions. He likely knew before any of them that Phantom wasn’t going to destroy the dimension. Manhunter wore a bemused smile as he exchanged numbers with the young king. Batman made a mental note to set aside extra time for a post-mission briefing with Manhunter.

“Nah. I got it. Or well… I will once I know where we are.” Phantom looked around the room as if that’d give him the answer.

“Salt Lake City, Utah,” Red Hood quickly answered.

“Utah?” Phantom groaned. “This is why I hate cults. They’re gross and weird and totally cliche! Well, at least now I know the way home.”

While he complained, Phantom grumpily typed his number into Hood’s and Constantine’s phone. Batman made a mental note to get Phantom’s number from one of the Leaguers. Phantom’s obvious fear of Batman was both confusing and incredibly worrying. A ghost had no reason to fear him. Especially one as powerful as a young god. Even if Phantom didn’t know about his status, he was at least aware of his abilities. While Batman knew his reputation on Earth, that alone shouldn’t be enough to elicit the nervous reactions Phantom showed towards Batman. Yet another piece to the rapidly growing puzzle that was Phantom. One that Batman did not like the look of.

“Batman,” Zatanna called from the door as she magically melted the ice enough to peek inside. “We’ve got the cultists contained. But I felt the spell go off. We’re here to back you up! Where’s the Ghost King?”

“What do you mean where? He’s right-” Batman turned around and found the spot Phantom occupied moments before empty. A quick look around the room showed no signs of the young king. Moreover, the frost that once coated the entire room melted away. From everyone else’s confused looks it was clear no one saw the boy leave.

So that’s what that felt like.

Chapter Text

“Seriously? The whole League?” A few pieces of popcorn fell out of Tucker’s open jaw and back into his personal bag. Sam made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and rolled her eyes. Danny wrinkled his nose. This wasn’t new behavior. The private theater in Sam’s house was a favorite hangout spot for them after school when they weren’t hunting ghosts or at the Nasty Burger. Some days, like this one, they chatted and talked ghost shop instead of watching cheesy b-horror films.

“Not the whole League.” Danny played with the bag in his lap, most of the popcorn inside untouched. He’d play with the necklace Constantine gave him instead, but every time he messed with it Sam smacked his hand to stop him. Tucker and Sam glanced at one another. “Just… a lot of the League. I think. And that red helmet guy.”

“You think?” Sam tilted her head, her own bag of popcorn set aside and forgotten. “Or you know and don’t want to tell us because you don’t want us to freak?”

“Bit of both?” Danny sighed heavily and sank deeper into his chair. “Like, I know it wasn’t the whole League. Only one of the Green Lanterns was there and I didn’t see too many sidekicks. But there were also heroes I didn’t recognize.”

“Like the guy with the red helmet?” Tucker splayed casually over the arm of his outrageously big custom theater chair, hands out in front of him so he could still eat while his knees occupied the seat.

“Well, I don’t know the guy in the white cape either, but yeah. That one.” Danny played with a piece of popcorn, frowning down at it.

“From your description, the white-caped guy was probably Shazam.” Both Tucker and Danny stared at Sam. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “He’s one of the League’s magic users. Seriously, you two. You need to know this in case they ever come here!”

“Except they never come here. Not even when we called them after Walker and his ghost guards invaded. The jerks didn’t even pick up!” Tucker hadn’t forgiven the League. He used to fawn over Black Canary and Wonder Woman. Hell, most teenagers in town had a favorite Leaguer. But that was before the ghost attacks. Before the invasions. Before the previous Mayor’s calls for help went unanswered, leaving Danny to pick up both the slack and the blame.

“But they might. And that’s not what we’re discussing right now.” Sam waved her hand dismissively. She had her own theories on the matter. Namely either the ghost portal caused some kind of interference or Clockwork did something, but none of the teens wanted to get back into that argument. “The important thing is that Danny’s on their radar now.”

“Them and Helmet Guy.” Danny finally popped the piece into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“You’re really focused on the helmet dude,” Tucker said as he reached over to steal some of Danny’s popcorn. Danny turned his (albeit barely touched) stash intangible. They had different flavors. Tucker huffed and shoved another handful of his own popcorn into his mouth. “What gives?”

“There was something off about him.” Danny handed his bag over to Sam for safekeeping so he could get up and pace as he talked. Tucker immediately sat up, but one warning glare from Sam kept him in his seat. “Like, every time I looked at him I felt like my ghost sense should go off, except it didn’t. But it’s more than that. He felt, I dunno, familiar? But in a really off way. Like…” Danny stopped and stared at their bags of popcorn. Then his gaze shifted to the corndog maker sitting on the snack bar at the back of the theater. “Like the food my parents bring back to life.”

“Oh, yuck!” “Gross!” Sam and Tucker both reeled back with expressions of disgust and horror.

“Yeah! That’s exactly it! He felt worse than the wurst. Like someone dunked him in super extra foul ectoplasm. It was all over him. Why didn’t I see that before?” Danny carded his hand through his hair, his self-directed frustration mounting. It’s not like Danny was in and out. He spent some time in that room with Helmet Guy. But Danny was so focused on Martian Manhunter and Batman that he failed to see what was right in front of him.

“Because a group of serial killer cultists tried to get you to destroy the world in front of Batman?” Danny hated that Tucker had a point. Not that it did anything to alleviate Danny’s guilt.

“Is he okay?” Sam crossed her arms over her chest as if that might protect her from the contaminated ectoplasm.

“Why wouldn’t- Oh, shit. Is he okay?” Danny practically yanked his hair as the realization bowled him over like a truck. Ectoplasm and living people did not mix. His parents wore hazmat suits for a reason. Granted, their sense of proper lab safety sucked, but they at least knew enough not to touch the stuff directly. Danny’s lifetime exposure to ectoplasm was probably the only reason the portal didn’t fully kill him. Jazz was equally exposed. But those were small amounts over a long period of time. They weren’t fully aware of the effects, but Jazz was at least mostly human. But Helmet Guy? Whatever happened couldn’t be healthy. Danny’s core pulsed as the need to check on Helmet Guy spiked.

Sam and Tucker sighed. Tucker pulled out his laptop as Sam got to her feet. “I’ll see what I can find on your new friend. Shouldn’t take too long.”

“And I’ll go order us a pizza because we’ll be here a while.” Sam chuckled at Tucker’s betrayed expression. She wasn’t wrong. They spent the next several hours researching the Justice League and their various members. Danny described Helmet Guy as best as he could remember. At one point, a ghost attack pulled Danny away, but he rushed back the second he could. All three teens fell asleep at their computers, exhausted from everything.

As it turned out, Helmet Guy was Red Hood, a notorious crime lord and also a murderer. He seemed to have an on-and-off hateship with Batman. Sometimes they worked together. Sometimes they fought. Lately, they seemed to work together instead of at each other’s throats, which explained why Hood and Batman were both at the summoning. Unfortunately, it also meant Danny needed to take a trip to Gotham.

Tucker and Sam immediately protested. Loudly. At length. Danny tried to explain things to them, but they called his sister on him instead. Jazz refused to let Danny out of her sight for an entire week! After another dozen arguments with the three of them, Danny finally let the subject drop. No signs of Batman or the League helped. Constantine texted Danny a couple of times, mostly to check in and make sure that no one kidnapped him, and told him to stay put in whatever spot he chose to hole up in as whatever special spell Constantine was working on took longer to cook than expected. Which was fine by Danny. He still wore that weirdo pendant and nothing bad happened so Danny didn’t see the harm.

It felt like it took forever for Sam, Tucker, and Jazz to finally relax, content that he wasn’t about to be kidnapped or run off to Gotham. To Danny’s credit, he didn’t run off to Gotham… He ran off to Frostbite.

“You did not know you are the Ghost King?” Frostbite gawked at Danny incredulously. As did several other Yeti ghosts in the Far Frozen. Frostbite coughed into his icy fist, sending the nosey onlookers scurrying. He motioned for Danny to follow him to a more private space so they could speak. In hindsight, ambushing Frostbite in the middle of the snowy Yeti ghost town wasn’t the best idea. But Danny knew of exactly two friendly ghosts in the Ghost Zone who might have the answers he needed and Clockwork was allergic to answering questions in any form other than a vague riddle.

“No!” Danny threw his hands up in exasperation as he followed Frostbite. “How would I know that? No one told me!”

“But we have always called you the Great One, Great One.” Danny stared blankly at Frostbite who stared blankly back.

“I thought you called me that because I stopped Pariah Dark.” Danny blinked and then balked as Frostbite burst out laughing. His booming voice shook the frozen cavern walls. Pouting, Danny crossed his arms and glared at his ghostly friend.

“Do not be mistaken, Great One. Stopping Pariah Dark took a true act of courage for one as young as yourself and it is why you are the Savior of the Ghost Zone. It is also a perfect example as to why you are a hero. But it is because of your status as the true Ghost King that we insist on addressing you properly.” Danny cocked his head to the side, still not convinced. Frostbite sighed. “We built a shrine to you.” Still nothing. “An act reserved for gods.”

“Paulina has a shrine to me in her locker,” Danny flatly pointed out. Well, to his ghost half anyway. She couldn’t care less about Danny Fenton.

“Exactly!” Frostbite brightened and Danny groaned. “See, you have many worshipers throughout the Realms.”

“Then why do ghosts attack me?!” Danny fought ghosts every day, trying to protect both Amity Park and stop the hunters from hurting the ghosts. It wasn’t just a thankless job, but an extremely painful one. Danny had the scars to prove it.

“Great One, you are still very young. As such, your presence is equally small.” Danny made a sound of protest, but Frostbite ignored him. “Many of the more uneducated ghosts won’t recognize you for what you are. For those that do, considering our experience with Pariah Dark, it is not unreasonable for some of them to wish to stop the rise of another Ghost King or resent you for your title on principle. As for the rest, defeating a god, no matter how weak, makes for excellent bragging rights.”

“Hey!”

Frostbite laughed again. Placing a comforting furry hand on Danny’s shoulders, Frostbite turned so that they faced one another so he could properly kneel in front of Danny, putting them at eye level. “Though it may not seem like it, your fights with other ghosts are invaluable to you and your core’s development. They have allowed you to understand yourself and your powers in a very short amount of time. Things are changing throughout the Realms and as such, you need to grow stronger far faster than any other in your situation. But you’ve proven yourself time and time again to be up to the challenge. I know it may not seem fair, and it is not. But this is the way of things. For now, at least. In the meantime, you have your friends and allies like myself to support you until you’ve fully grown into your title. Enjoy this time of freedom, O’ Great One, because once you’ve reached your full potential, it’s all paperwork from then on.”

“Please tell me you’re joking…” Frostbite laughed at Danny again. Groaning into his palms, Danny tried not to let this latest existential crisis pull him under. He mentally shoved it into the tiny box in the back of his mind where all the rest of them went. “Okay. On a less personally depressing subject, what do you know about ectoplasm contamination in humans?”

Frostbite immediately shifted into Serious Doctor mode. “Which one of your servants was contaminated?”

“None. But I met a guy who I’m pretty sure took a bath in some really rank ectoplasm.”

Frowning, Frostbite rubbed his chin as he considered. “Please explain what you mean by ‘rank,’ O’ Great One.”

Danny gave Frostbite a rundown of his admittedly limited experience with Red Hood. He described the off feeling as best he could. After a few clarifying questions, Frostbite sighed and shook his head. “This man of Red Hoods is very sick. Ectoplasm by its very nature does not mix well with the living. Once contaminated, it is nearly impossible to remove completely. At low levels, humans exposed to ectoplasm will develop some ghostly tendencies, such as minor obsessions. Like your sister and her psychology or your parents and their ghost hunting.”

“Is that why I have two obsessions?” Every ghost Danny knew only had one. It defined who they were. But for Danny, space and protection pulled at his core equally. He needed to protect people and ghosts just as much as he needed to collect model rockets, stargaze, or dream of flying in space.

“Exactly. Ectoplasm also heightens emotions. After all, we ghosts are creatures made of ectoplasm and raw emotions. From what I saw and what you have told me, the ectoplasm that contaminated you and your family was fairly pure, so the side effects are mild. However, the more ectoplasm one is exposed to and the more corrupt it is, the worse the effects are.”

“Could… it drive someone to murder?” Danny remembered Red Hood’s long list of confirmed and suspected crimes.

“Murder is a choice. But it can induce a blinding rage or endless sorrow. How one acts on said emotions is their choice, and the consequences are their responsibility, but yes. The contaminated individual may consider murder when they otherwise would not.”

That sounded ominous. Danny made a mental note to keep his friends and family as far away from ectoplasm, especially the rank kind, as possible. “So how do I save someone who’s contaminated?”

Frostbite sighed heavily. “Do not focus on trying to remove the ectoplasm. That is beyond both of our abilities. Perhaps you may one day have that control, but for now, it is not possible. However, you can purify the ectoplasm within this Red of Hoods. Come. I will show you how.”

Chapter Text

Meeting the Ghost King, if what Jason did even counted as meeting, threw Jason so far off balance he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get back up. So much happened and some of it the other Leaguers weren’t even aware of.

It started with the ritual itself. As soon as the chanting began he felt a pull deep in his chest and mind. It came from the same deep dark recesses that Jason battled to keep the Pit locked in. That madness boiled and rolled, trying to claw its way to the surface like a desperate beast. Except it didn’t come with the same all-encompassing fury that Jason knew so well. It felt like he wanted- no, he needed to get to the circle. Something was coming and he needed to be there to catch it. Protect it.

When that something finally arrived, it looked like a child. One about the same age as Jason when he… When the Joker killed him. The Ghost King looked like a frightened boy way in over his head. A very dead boy. Shit! Jason wanted to get angry. No, he was angry. He waited for the Pit to rise higher and add a dumpster truck of fuel to his rage because that was a scared dead kid in a room full of people who either wanted to use him or banish him from this plane of existence.

Except the Pit stayed silent, seemingly content now that the King was there and starting to take charge of the situation. The kid was scared and confused, but unharmed. Not that Jason relaxed. He barely took his eye off the boy king. Both because the Pit demanded it, but also because the Pit felt uncharacteristically quiet. Peaceful even. Like a still pond instead of the boiling rapids he knew so well. At that moment, Jason realized just how much the Pit still affected him. It took years of training and fighting to regain enough control just to get it to stop from hounding him. Jason thought he’d succeeded. Now he knew better.

Thank god Batman and Constantine didn’t try to fight the Ghost King. Jason knew which side he’d be on if it came to that and no one would like the answer. Jason proved as much when he tried to… honestly Jason didn’t know what he wanted to do beyond making Constantine shut the fuck up for upsetting Phantom. If they fought, the delicate bonds he’d regained with his family would shatter and crumble between his fingers like sand-sized shards of glass. That bothered Jason more than anything else. Somehow, a baby god he’d never met before not only quieted the Pit’s madness but had an iron grip over his loyalty. Was that because of what happened to him all those years ago? Did death still hold a claim over him?

Now over a week later, Jason stood alone in the Batcave. He tugged at his hair, pulling a strand of white from his head to look at it. Most of his hair was the same jet black he had as Robin, but when he came back he grew this white patch in the front that never went away. The silver shade was nearly identical to the King’s. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Did something happen between his death and when he crawled out of his own grave? He didn’t remember that six-month period. Hell, Jason barely remembered what happened after pulling himself out of the ground. His mind only returned to him after Talia dumped him into the waters of a Lazarus Pit.

Sighing, Jason put his red helmet on and headed out on patrol. He went over those same questions a thousand times. Bruce and Timbo didn’t help. They holed themselves away in the Batcave or bothered one of the more magically inclined Leaguers, frantically researching the Ghost King and anything else they could find about the Infinite Realms or where Phantom went. If this were any other case, Jason would have laughed his ass off and heckled the pair endlessly for taking so long. Instead, Jason gritted his teeth and picked up extra patrols so that the world’s greatest detectives could do their thing. Mostly. Once they found what they wanted, they’d tell the rest of the Bat Clan a cliffs notes and censored version. Fucking paranoid bastards. After that Jason only needed to hack into the Batcomputer to get the complete files. Or better yet, he’d let them do most of the legwork before swooping in to put the final pieces together himself so he could get to Phantom first, fully rested and ready for whatever came his way.

Whenever Tim approached microsleep levels of awake, Jason snuck down into the Cave to pry details from the chronic insomniac. Replacement and his fried brain tried to push back, but Jason withheld Tim’s coffee until Jason got his answers. It didn’t take long to get what he wanted. Really, a sleep-deprived Tim was scarily easy to interrogate.

Turned out, their Ghost King was a resident of Earth. Their Earth. Two articles mentioned a ghostly hero in the supposedly most haunted city in the US: Amity Park. Or so the authors claimed. One article was written by a reporter named Harriet Chin who called the hero Inviso-Bill. The other belonged to a conspiracy theory magazine that was so out there that other conspiracy theorists wrote it off as utter nonsense. That one included a smudged and glitched photo of a figure flying at high speed. The picture was too blurry to tell much, but Jason and Tim both recognized that white hair and specialized suit.

Tim tried to dig into Amity Park’s records, but he failed spectacularly. If Replacement attempted to look at anything deeper than the local weather forecast he… just couldn’t. It was as if the town didn’t exist. At least not virtually. Tim tried using a VPN to trick websites into thinking he was in Amity Park, but that didn’t work either. Even Barbara attempted to find virtual information and failed. Tim only realized a few hours ago that this wasn’t a matter of technology. Something mystical kept that information locked away.

Bruce’s investigation, from what Jason could find, went in a different direction but with similarly frustrating ends. His research brought him to one Vlad Masters, a relatively recently made billionaire whose records screamed fraud. Over the last twenty years, wealthy business tycoons signed their businesses and assets away to Vlad for seemingly no rhyme or reason. They didn’t even get anything out of the deals! It all went one way, straight into Vlad Masters’ bank account. Yet, when questioned, all the victims insisted that they signed away everything of their own accord. The only reason that this didn’t make headlines was that Vlad targeted smaller businesses. Ones that were successful, but not massively so. It helped that most of Masters’ acquisitions were only in the last six to seven years. Additionally, Vlad Masters conveniently and suddenly moved from his mansion in Wisconsin to Amity Park. Said mansion exploded as well. Great signs all around. Totally not at all red flag worthy.

Unfortunately, the Masters’ trail went cold the moment he stepped into Amity Park. None of Jason’s, Tim’s, or Bruce’s magical contacts had any clue what to make of Amity Park. Not one even recognized the city’s name.

The place might as well be a giant red flag taller than Everest waving happily in the breeze, yet somehow everyone missed it. The whole situation made Jason want to storm into Amity Park right that second and find answers for himself. He seriously considered it too. But acting without enough information risked making the situation worse. Jason needed to be patient. Thankfully, the extra patrols gave Jason the perfect place to vent his frustrations. If only Dick didn’t add to them by lecturing him in Bruce’s stead about sending third-rate robbers to the hospital. They weren’t dead! And those assholes deserved it.

Sighing again, Jason stopped atop a high roof, one foot on the ledge as he scanned the street below. Damn, Jason needed to punch something. No wait… actually… he didn’t. Jason wheeled around, instantly on alert as the Pit settled into quiet. Not disturbingly quiet. More of the peaceful zen kind of quiet and that in of itself disturbed Jason. All of his training screamed at him to reach for his gun, or at the very least a knife. He did neither.

“I know you’re there,” Red Hood stated aloud. The helmet pitched his voice lower and gave it an artificial quality that most found intimidating. Intentionally so. Batman was wrong about a lot of things, but scaring the crap out of everyone was a page Red Hood ripped right out of the Bat’s handbook. Though at that moment, Hood hated how it made him sound. Thankfully, a glow suddenly appeared behind a rooftop access. A moment later the King’s young face peeked out from behind the brick wall.

“Uh… hey.” The Ghost King waved awkwardly. Hood said nothing back. Shifting, the King looked around before daring to fully come out of his hiding spot. He floated closer, clearly uneasy as his glowing Lazarus eyes flitted around like a hummingbird trying to find a way to escape a hungry cat. “So I know this is gonna sound weird and super sketchy but… can we talk? In private?”

“Worried about Batman?” Hood remembered how nervous Bruce made the kid. Now they were in Gotham, the Bats’ home turf. Hood hoped that whatever the hell possessed this kid to come here was worth the risk. The young King nodded. Hood tapped his helmet, stopping any recordings and closing his com line. “We’re alone. What’s up, kid? You in trouble?”

“The name’s Phantom, not kid.” Phantom pouted. His arms crossed over his chest and his expression was one that could only be described as “unhappy teenager.” Hood smirked. Thankfully his helmet hid his amusement from the King. “And I’m not really in trouble… or at least I’m not in more trouble than last time.” Right. Constantine still hadn’t finished the warding spell. “But I… Look. I don’t know how to say this so I’m gonna go ahead and spit it out, but you’re contaminated with rotten ectoplasm. I sensed it last time, but it took me a bit to realize that and then I had to learn to filter it, but the point is that I can get it out now. Sort of. I can’t get rid of the ectoplasm, but I can at least make what’s there less… gross.”

Hood didn’t know what to expect from the Ghost King who apparently came to Gotham to see him specifically, but it wasn’t that. Or anywhere close to that. “I’m what?”

“Contaminated. With ectoplasm. It’s the stuff ghosts are made out of.” The kid… Phantom, raised a gloved hand and a ball of Lazarus green plasma formed in his hand. It hissed and popped, ready to go wherever the King directed it. Red Hood took a step back, his alarm quickly rising. Memories of the Pit flashed through his mind, ones he’d either forgotten or wanted to forget.

“Wait. Hold on. You think that is in me.”

Phantom shook his hand and the ectoplasm vanished as if it was never there in the first place. “Well, no. My ghost rays are pure ectoplasm. Whatever is in you is uh…” Phantom wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Not that.”

Hood groaned and put a hand on his helmet. Great. Just great. “And you want to take it out of me?”

“Filter it,” Phantom corrected.

“Right, right. You want to filter the ectoplasm that is in my body. For what?” Phantom tilted his head and blinked, clearly confused by the question. Hood dropped his hands to his side and stared the kid down. “What’s the price? What do you get out of it?”

“Uuuh… not telling Batman I’m here?” Phantom sounded so unsure of himself. The King rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. Shit. This kid didn’t even think that far ahead. Jason needed to make sure that when Constantine handed over the spell the Brit also gave Phantom a run down on magic 101 after Red Hood gave him a class in Life Skills. Okay… maybe not life, but at the very least common sense. Until then, if Red Hood really was contaminated like the kid said then Hood was inclined to believe him. Both because of how the Pit acted and because Hood seriously doubted the kid could lie his way out of a paper bag. This needed to happen. The less Hood paid for it, the better.

“Alright. So how does this work?”

Phantom motioned for Hood to sit down. Huffing, Hood settled cross-legged on the concrete rooftop. Phantom dropped to his feet and sat across from the anti-hero. “You need to take your gloves off. It won’t work otherwise.”

Hood did as Phantom asked and held his hand out. Phantom took it and started to turn Hood’s hand this way and that. “What about yours,” Hood asked as Phantom finally settled on palm up.

“Mine don’t count,” Phantom chuckled. He pushed Red Hood’s jacket sleeve up enough to expose Hood’s wrist. For a long minute, they sat there, Phantom’s palm hovering a couple of inches over Hood’s skin as the ghost’s expression tightened with concentration. Red Hood even saw the kid sweat. Ghosts could sweat?

Pain shot down Hood’s arm and he cursed. Phantom’s other hand kept him still with a surprising and impossible amount of strength. Red Hood looked like he ate bodybuilders for breakfast. Meanwhile Phantom looked like a gentle breeze could bowl the kid over. Yet Phantom held Hood fast with strength that could rival a Kryptonian. Shit!

Dark, poisonous green liquid pooled out of Red Hood’s wrist, seeping from his body like sweat. It rose and hovered in the space between their hands. Phantom gritted his teeth. More discharge joined the slowly growing mass. Seconds dragged on and the ghost's complexion rapidly turned pale. Then Phantom swayed slightly. Double shit. The kid was overdoing it! “Phantom. Enough.”

“No. I’ve got it. Just a little-”

“Enough!” Phantom balked, startled by the sudden steely authority in Hood’s voice. It was the same tone Hood used to order his gang around. Hard and impossible to disobey, but not cruel. Hood pulled his wrist back, twisting it out of Phantom’s loosening grip. The kid wobbled and Hood was there, holding Phantom by his shoulders as the boy gathered his strength. “You good?”

“Yeah. Just a little tired.” Still maintaining his control over the liquid, Phantom pulled out what looked like the world’s most high-tech soup canister from god knows where, popped the lid open, and unceremoniously dumped the sludge into the container.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Hood caught a glimpse of a logo on the inside of the cap lid right before the kid screwed it back on. Fenton Works?

“Yeah. This was made to catch ghosts. It’s really good at cleaning up residual ectoplasm too. And well, that stuff technically qualifies as ectoplasm.” Phantom made that face again and Hood huffed a laugh.

“You did good, kid.” Red Hood reached over and ruffled Phantom’s white hair. The teen made a noise of protest and tried to swat Hood’s hand away. Laughing, Red Hood shook his head as Phantom pouted.

The pout lasted all of five seconds before Phantom deflated. Hood still had a hand on the kid’s arm and Phantom leaned into it as dejection and exhaustion weighed heavy on his shoulders. “Except I didn’t get all of it…”

“Hey, you did your best. And I feel better already.” Red Hood initially said it to try and raise the kid’s spirits, but the moment the words came out he realized how true they were. The Pit wasn’t just quieter, it was smaller too. “Holy shit, I feel better.”

It was Phantom’s turn to smile. The poor kid looked exhausted. “I’ll come back in a few days to get the rest.”

“Oh no.” Hood took hold of both of Phantom’s shoulders. The kid immediately tried to protest but Red Hood cut him off. “Look, I know telling you not to come back won’t work, but if we’re gonna do this, we do this my way. I’ve got your number. You’ll text me when you're strong enough for me to come to you.” Phantom’s expression hardened. “Fine. You’ll text me when you’re on your way over. You can do your little trick, but I don’t want you exhausting yourself like you did today. I swear, if you pass out on me, I can and will call Zatanna to throw you in a magical trap until you learn not to push yourself too far.”

Phantom rolled his eyes. “You sound like my sister.”

It hit Red Hood all over again that Phantom was just a kid. One who died only a few years ago. He had family. Was this family still alive? Was his sister? What happened to Phantom? From the way Constantine spoke, Phantom probably started out as a human. How did he die? Did someone do that to Phantom or was it something else? Disease or bad luck or-

“Ground Control to Major Red Hood. You still in there?”

Red Hood shook himself and let go of Phantom. The kid stared up at him, clearly worried. “I’m fine. You, on the other hand, look like you’re five seconds away from taking a nap on the roof. C’mon. I’ve got a safehouse you can use to crash in whenever you visit.” Hood didn’t mind burning one if it meant keeping Phantom safe. Gotham took its toll on everyone, even the dead. Batman only made things worse for Phantom. Hood knew he couldn’t keep Phantom from flying off, but at the very least he could give the kid a safe and clean place to crash.

“A nap sounds nice. I’m so tired I could sleep like the dead.”

Phantom smirked when Red Hood let out a long-suffering groan. “I change my mind. Go sleep in an alley.”

“C’mon. It’s not un-boo-levable.”

“LEAVE!”

Despite Phantom’s puns (dear GOD Jason needed to make sure Phantom and Nightwing never met) Hood made good on his promise and took Phantom to the safehouse where the ghost proceeded to crash in the bedroom for a few hours. Jason added Surveillance 101 and Stranger Danger to his ever-growing list of classes he needed Phantom to take. The kid didn’t even think about checking for traps or bugs! If only Jason could brag that he hid THE Ghost King right under Bruce’s nose. But if the rest of the idiot clan knew then Bruce would find out a lot faster and Jason couldn’t have that. Oh well. He’d find bragging rights somewhere else.

Chapter Text

In a very, very weird twist of fate, Danny made friends with Gotham’s biggest mob boss. Talk about bad influences. If his mom found out, she’d kill him the rest of the way. Jazz, who knew, heavily considered it. But after Danny relayed to her and his friends what Frostbite told him, they all reluctantly agreed that Red Hood needed the help. If half the rumors were true, then Gotham’s villains were unhinged enough as is. Ectoplasm only made things worse. Not to mention the fact that Red Hood teamed up with the Justice League on at least one occasion. The filtration might be enough to keep Hood on the side of good. Or, at the very least, lower his murder rate.

Danny visited Gotham as often as he could. Sometimes he managed a few days back to back. Others he’d go a week before flying over. He always texted, as promised, and Hood always told Phantom to go wait in the safe house. On the third time, Hood caught Phantom munching on a candy bar and insisted on making Phantom “real food” after that. Turns out, Red Hood was a really good cook. And none of his food was contaminated with ectoplasm! Danny didn’t have to literally fight his meals. Score!

If Danny’s visit times happened to occur around dinner time for the rest of his drop-ins, well… that was totally a coincidence.

Constantine texted Danny a couple of times during those weeks. Mostly to ask questions that Danny either didn’t know the answer to or didn’t want to answer at all. Apparently, whatever spell Constantine wanted to make required knowing more about Danny than either of them anticipated. Not only that, Constantine was getting suspicious about Danny’s status as a ghost. The spell kept failing. That and according to Constantine the requirements for summoning Phantom were weird. Specifically, the fact that no one actually needed to die in order to summon the King of The Dead and the inclusion of an alien made no sense whatsoever.

Danny made up some excuse about how busy he was with official Ghost King duties and that he’d totally get back to Constantine soon. Absolutely, for sure. In the meantime, Team Phantom turned to their resident (amateur) occultist Sam to see if she could find a workaround.

“Danny, this is way above my pay grade.” Sam’s voice always sounded weird through the Fenton Phones. Granted, everyone’s voice sounded weird through Phones, but the unique addition of ectoplasm to the circuitry so that it worked around Danny and in the Ghost Zone gave her voice an almost ghostly echo to it. It freaked them all out the first time they heard it, but Team Phantom was used to it by then.

“Have you tried the library,” he asked as The Box Ghost charged at him. Danny lazily shot Boxy with a ghost ray while he talked. It was the Box Ghost and they were in the Mom and Pop store section of town! Most of the civilians had already fled. Any fight with The Box Ghost didn’t require that much concentration. Heck, even collateral damage wasn’t a problem with Boxy around. Now, if he fought Skulker or literally any other ghost, that’d be a different story.

“Did you seriously ask me that question?” Oof. Sam sounded pissed.

“Uuuh… No? Look I- GAH!” Danny ducked under a flying box, but one of the nightmare-inducing dolls in said box smacked him right in the face. Both Danny and The Box Ghost paused in their fight to watch as it and the rest of the dolls plummeted to the street below to join the rest of the creepy doll collection. “Please tell me those aren’t cursed.”

Boxy summoned the box and glanced at the label. “FOR INCINERATION. DO NOT OPEN.”

“Oh great… Sam, can you-?”

“On it.”

“AHA! I, THE BOX GHOST, HAVE PLACED A CURSE ON YOU WITH MY CURSED DOLL BOX OF DOOM! BEWA-”

“Don’t see any curses, but Tucker said that according to the antique shop’s records, they were mistakenly bought from a hoarder home and labeled as biohazard. Have fun with that.”

“Oh…” Poor Boxy actually sounded disappointed. What a jerk! “WELL YOU WILL STILL MEET YOUR DOOM AT THE HANDS OF MY OTHER CUBIC CARDBOARD PERILS! FOR I AM THE BOX GHOST! BEWARE!”

Sighing heavily, Danny shifted his phone awkwardly between his ear and shoulder so he could grab the Fenton Thermos and unceremoniously suck the Box Ghost inside. “And now I need a bath.”

Sam laughed in Danny’s ear. He scowled at his phone. “That’s what you get for suggesting the obvious. I’ll keep looking to see what I can find.”

“Thanks, Sam. I-” Danny immediately forgot what he wanted to say when he looked over to the nearest roof. A guy, maybe about his age, smiled and waved at Phantom. Not just any guy. This one wore a domino mask and a long black and red cape that matched the rest of his black and red suit. Two yellow utility belts crossed over his chest to form an X. Red Robin was in town. Phantom waved back with a lot less enthusiasm. At least that earned him a smile from Red Robin. A smile from a Batman sidekick was a good thing right? “I gotta go.”

After pocketing his phone and clipping the thermos to his belt, Phantom hesitantly flew over to the roof. “You’re a long way from Gotham.”

“And you picked a technological and magical dead zone to haunt. So I had to come to you.” Phantom blinked owlishly. Red Robin’s smile turned down into a frown. “You didn’t know.” It wasn’t a question but Phantom shook his head anyway. “Huh…”

“Wait, if this is a dead zone beyond the actual dead in town then how did you find me?” Phantom looked around, his nerves starting to get to him. Are Batman or any of the Justice League here too?

“Relax. I came alone.” Red Robin waved a dismissive hand and Phantom relaxed a little. “Finding you wasn’t easy. I caught a lucky break and used that to track your only… well, not known but suspected location. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I’d find you or anything out here. Let alone discover a whole detailed history of you once I got here.”

A bus-sized boulder dropped into the pit of Phantom’s non-corporeal stomach as Red Robin pulled up a bunch of articles from local newspapers on his gauntlet’s holo screen. Some talked about how he helped the town. Others ranted about how he was a danger. His parents' publication on ghosts was in there too, including a photo of the entire Fenton family. As was the headline featuring Phantom robbing a jewelry store.

“Trying to access anything outside of town is practically impossible. But once I arrived?” Red Robin raised a brow at Phantom who smiled anxiously back. “Phantom, aka Inviso-Bill and Amity Park’s public enemy number one. Headlines about you are all over the place with public perception changing depending on the age demographic. Your ratings with teens and young adults are the highest. After that, it gradually goes down before dropping substantially in the over-fifty crowd. Not to mention your list of known crimes and that million-dollar bounty on your head. Did I miss anything?”

“Well, I did save the town from a ghost invasion. Twice. Also that time I pulled the town out of the Ghost Zone.” Phantom tried to give Red Robin his best, most innocent smile, but it came out more as a grimace. Red Robin snorted and turned the screen off.

“That’s a lot for a little over two years.” Red Robin leaned against the roof railing, his posture relaxed as he looked out over the city. Aside from all the ghost stuff, Amity Park looked like any other small to middle-sized city. Some tall buildings. A lot of short ones. A few strip malls. Evidence of Danny’s battles sprinkled the town, but he learned how to minimize collateral damage over the years. “That’s pretty good for a solo hero.”

Phantom immediately perked up. His core fluttered and he whispered, “You think I’m a hero?”

“I think you’re an untrained vigilante who’s made a lot of mistakes, but if you know what to look for the pattern of a new mentorless hero is there.” Red Robin smiled at Phantom who smiled back, the ghost’s aura glowing a little brighter. “Although I’d really like to know why you keep coming to Gotham to meet with Red Hood. Especially considering Batman scares the shit out of you.”

“You know about that?” Phantom’s cheeks turned bright red and his voice cracked. The other boy laughed. “I-I mean the thing about Batman and Hood.”

“The answer is yes to both parts. And for the record, Batman’s not as bad as his reputation. Sure, he’s scary, but that’s kind of the point.” Bruce had a real (secret) soft spot for kids like Phantom. The Ghost King had far too much on his shoulders and clearly tried hard to do the right thing. That crime spree didn’t bother Red Robin all that much considering the presence of Circus Gothica and all the crimes that seemed to follow the macabre train when it was on tour. If he had to guess, Red Robin would bet on some form of mind control or coercion. The biggest concern was the incident with the mayor, but Red Robin would look into that later. There was a story there, one hidden just beneath the surface. “So about Red Hood?”

Sighing, Phantom relayed what he knew about Hood’s ecto-contamination and how he gradually filtered out the gunk from Hood’s system. At first, Red Robin looked shocked, but that quickly went away in favor of a flat, neutral expression. “...I see.”

For a while, that was all Red Robin said. A companionable silence settled between the two young heroes as they looked out upon the darkening city. When Danny wasn’t so busy stopping ghost attacks or running from ghost hunters, he liked to sit back and enjoy the view, especially when the stars came out.

“What are you going to do,” Red Robin asked eventually, officially breaking the silence.

“Hmm? Oh, well I think I only need two or three more sessions with Hood. He should-”

“I meant about the League.” Even with a domino mask on, the intensity of Red Robin’s stare made it feel like the teen could see directly into Phantom’s core. It was as if Red Robin already knew all of Phantom’s secrets. “They know you’re here. On this Earth. You’ve got a day, maybe two before Batman finds you the way I did.”

“Oh…” Phantom leaned against the railing, his arms pillowing his head. “I don’t know. At first, the only thing I wanted was for the Justice League to help me. I was completely in over my head. When Walker and his goons took over the town and the Justice League didn’t come… I never felt so alone. My powers kept growing and things got worse. More ghost hunters showed up. There’s also that stupid government organization that decided ghosts don’t count as people and wants to tear me apart. Them and my er- the Fentons. So I was glad the League didn’t know about me and I wanted it to stay that way. But now? I don’t know...” Phantom rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “What if they decide I’m dangerous too? I can’t fight them. And Batman…”

When Danny didn’t continue, Red Robin settled a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Danny gave him a grateful look before sighing heavily. “Batman’s supposed to be crazy smart. There are things about me that I don’t want anyone to know. I’m worried that if Batman finds out then he’ll blame the people I care about, they’ll get hurt or worse and it’ll be all my fault.”

“Batman wouldn’t do that.” Sure, Batman would absolutely dig into Phantom’s past. So would Tim. But that wasn’t the point. “He knows you’re not a bad guy.”

“Then why is he looking for me?”

Red Robin snorted. “Because he’s paranoid and doesn’t like not knowing things.”

Phantom raised a skeptical brow. “Did the pot just call out the kettle?”

Laughing, Red Robin shook his head. “That’s fair. Hey, why don’t we go-”

Suddenly, a green glow emerged from beneath Phantom as an all too familiar sigil flared to life. That terrible grasp took hold of Phantom’s core and he doubled over in pain. Red Robin lunged forward, his arms wrapping around Phantom just as the column of magic engulfed them both. Then they were gone.

Chapter Text

Phantom and Red Robin clung to one another, each one attempting to shield the other to create an odd entanglement of limbs. A chill ran through Red Robin’s suit wherever he and Phantom touched. Except it wasn’t biting or bitter. The cold reminded Robin of a pool on a hot summer’s day or fluffy snow on a beautiful winter morning. Pleasant. Comfortable.

If only he could say the same for the rest of their circumstances.

Red Robin’s ears rang and everything seemed far too bright. His whole body tingled with the aftershocks of invisible pain. From the groan in his ear, it was clear Phantom wasn’t in a much better state. Despite the bone-deep ache, Red Robin forced himself to look around. Thanks to Phantom, they both floated over a somewhat familiar sigil. Red Robin recognized it from Batman’s somewhat distorted body camera footage. The inner part looked exactly the same as the one those cultists used to summon Phantom the first time. Only there was a second, larger ring that surrounded the rest. While Robin was no expert on magic, he knew enough to recognize it as some kind of trap. Probably an attempt to keep the Ghost King from running off again.

In three of the sacrificial spots sat both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Frank Willington sat in what was Constantine’s chair. A man in a firefighter’s uniform occupied Batman’s chair. In the spot where Martian Manhunter sat was Ellen Guion, an astronaut who recently returned from a mission at the International Space Station. All three of them were dead. The other spots only had bowls with no occupants in the chairs. One looked like regular blood. The other was filled with a golden liquid.

“Well.” Red Robin’s blood ran colder than Phantom’s touch. Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon’s Head and leader of the League of Assassins, stood on the other side of the summoning circle, his hand on a bloody cloth over a fresh cut. He wore his usual black and gold armor. The man’s green inlaid cloak did little to hide the katana on his hip. Red Robin's eyes flicked to the bowl where Jason had sat and back to Ra’s who continued to speak. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Detective.”

“Ancients, I hate cults.” Phantom, who’d come out of his overstimulated stupor, carefully unwound himself from Robin (how did Tim not notice that he still clung to the Ghost King?). Robin continued to float in defiance of gravity until Phantom helped him set his feet on the ground. Once Phantom let go, gravity suddenly remembered that Red Robin existed and he felt his own weight return.

It was unlike anything Tim felt before. He flew with Conner and M’gann a few times, but none of those left him completely weightless like Phantom’s power. Tim filed away a million questions for later.

Sighing, Phantom started to look around. Red Robin didn’t need to (though he performed a quick visual sweep). One look at Ra’s and the cave Ra’s summoned them to was enough to know exactly where they were. Robin didn’t even need to look at the glowing green waters of the Lazarus Pit on the other side of the cavern to tell that. “They’re not a cult, Phantom.” Robin narrowed his eyes at Ra’s who looked only mildly curious. Only two assassins, each covered from head to toe in black attire that obscured most of their features, stood at his side, but that didn’t make Red Robin feel any better. Ra’s was a big enough problem on his own and he liked to keep his assassins hidden nearby. “What do you want with the Ghost King, Ra’s?”

“Uuuuhhh… better question. Why is there a pool of the grossest ectoplasm I’ve ever seen in a random cave?” What? Phantom’s gaze was locked on the Lazarus Pit and he looked at the waters that matched the color of his eyes as if it were a pool of milk-soaked fish floating in urine that was left out in the sun to rot for a month.

“I see you are familiar with the Lazarus Pit, young King.” Ra’s smiled as he stepped carefully around the circle.

“The Lazy Pit?” Phantom tilted his head, though he didn’t look away from the Pit. “You know those are supposed to be rivers, right? Granted… it’s as gross as a theme park river.”

Ra’s bristled a little, something Robin only noticed because he knew the man, but otherwise didn’t outwardly react. “The Lazarus Pit. One of many life-giving springs that can heal any fatal wound, resurrect the dead, and even grant immortality if used properly.” Phantom wrinkled his nose, the disgust in his expression still there. “Though should someone healthy and far from death step into its waters, the Pit will claim their life.” Ra’s smiled at Red Robin who tensed. The temperature in the room immediately dropped and Phantom positioned himself in between Ra’s and Robin. Tim swore that Phantom’s eyes glowed brighter as he stared daggers at the assassin.

“Don’t even think about it,” Phantom snapped. Red Robin’s heart skipped a beat.

“If you grant me my request then you and your companion may leave.” Ra’s tilted his nose up, haughty and confident.

“And that is?” While Ra’s had Phantom’s undivided attention, something shifted behind them. Red Robin chanced a glance to see the two assassins moving into position. Shit. Red Robin turned so that he stood back to back with Phantom. The other teen pushed back a little, a silent agreement to watch out for one another. Tim’s heart skipped another beat.

“I want you to tell Death that she can never take me.” A long pause followed that statement.

“What?” Phantom sounded more than a little confused.

“It’s simple, young King. While I am currently immortal, immortality can be reversed. It can be given and taken away. It repels Death for a time. Perhaps forever. Perhaps not. That is not good enough. I need to escape the cycle of mortality altogether. To that end, you will order Death to never come for me. My soul and my body are my own. Never to wither or age. Never to join your kingdom. I will-”

“Time out.” Phantom put his hands together so that they formed a T shape. The whole room went quiet. “Go back to before your cliche villain speech that I really couldn’t care less about to the whole ‘Talk to Death’ thing. Like death Death? Is that even possible?”

“It is,” Ra’s stated with a haughty air. “I will even summon her here for you.”

“Phantom!” Robin shouted as Ra’s threw out hidden daggers towards the two assassins behind them. Phantom reacted instantly. He threw both arms to the side and created a glowing green dome almost as big as the summoning circle. The two daggers clattered harmlessly against it.

“Huh. Thought he was aiming for you,” Phantom said with a quick look over his shoulder at Red Robin. Keeping one arm out, probably to maintain the shield, Phantom half turned to the startled assassins. “I hope you two are unionized. If not, I suggest you put your two weeks in.” Robin snorted.

“Assassins aren’t eligible for the goonion,” snarked Red Robin.

Phantom laughed and the temperature in the room rose a degree. “Put a review on Google. Good benefits, but the boss gets murder-y during meetings. Do not recommend.”

“ENOUGH!” The Demon’s Head shouted. His booming voice echoed through the cavern and Phantom winced. Not out of fear. More like how Conner winced whenever something was too loud. Super-hearing? “You will do as I say or Red Robin dies.”

Phantom downright growled at that and bared his teeth to Ra’s, revealing a set of enlarged canines. The temperature plummeted. Ice cracked along the ground, blooming across the cavern floor with Red Robin and Phantom at its center. But the ice stopped at the outer magical ring. Ra’s seemed completely unfazed. “It is unavoidable Phantom. Unlike those fools who summoned you initially, we’ve put a precaution in place. You are the Ghost King. No ghost can leave this circle and I will not allow Red Robin to leave either. One step out of the circle, and he dies. And unlike you, Phantom, the Detective is human. He needs to eat and drink. If you take too long to follow my demands, he dies.”

Phantom looked at the circle and then back up to Red Robin. Rather than worry, Phantom’s eyes glimmered with mischief. Smirking, he turned back to Ra’s. “Talk about a half-baked plan. I’ve got a better idea.” The shield dropped and Phantom concentrated hard. Two more versions of himself popped into existence. All three immediately brightened and high-fived. “Heck yeah! First try!” They all said in unison. So a new power then. Each one turned to face a different assassin. “Now, about that talk.”

In a blink, all three ghosts vanished from sight. Batman mentioned invisibility as a possible power in his report. Red Robin extended his bo staff just in time to block a knife thrown by Ra’s. Not missing a beat, Red Robin rushed forward to close the distance between himself and the Demon’s Head. Ra’s pulled out a sword and charged to meet Red Robin in the middle. Red Robin’s staff met Ra’s’ blade, the colliding metals clanging like a tolling bell. The pair fought fiercely, trading blows and blocking skillfully. Sweat beaded on Red Robin’s forehead as he pulled on every ounce of his training to keep up. All the while, Phantom remained out of sight.

Suddenly, the other two assassins were at their Master’s side. Instead of attacking Robin, they each grabbed Ra’s’ arm to hold the older man captive. Their eyes, the only thing not hidden by their uniform, glowed bright green. “What is this?!” Ra’s howled as he threw one off. Before he could throw the other his whole body spasmed.

Red Robin stood back just in time to see Ra’s’ eyes glow green, same as the other two. “Ugh. This guy’s worse than Hood.” The voice that came from Ra’s’ mouth was far too young and it echoed unnaturally.

“Phantom?!” Ra’s grinned giddily, an expression that Red Robin thought was impossible for the man to make until that very moment. Robin’s jaw dropped. “But… but how? The circle should have…” Something clicked in Red Robin’s head. “The circle stops ghosts.”

Ra’s, or rather Phantom in Ra’s, looked downright nervous. “Right, so uh, I don’t suppose you know where we are?”

“Nanda Parbat.” No recognition. “It’s in the Himalayas.” Still nothing. “A part of the Tibetan Plateau on the Indian subcontinent?”

“Is this a bad time to mention that I didn’t make it to World History?” Phantom shrugged sheepishly as Robin facepalmed hard enough that the sound echoed in the cavern.

Dragging his hand down his face, Robin took a deep breath to center himself. “The League headquarters will block my coms. Maybe your phone too. We should leave quickly and get as far away from here as we can before calling for backup.

“With you in control of Ra’s and two of his men, we can loosely tie me up and make it seem like Ra’s wants me taken away. I’ll direct you. If we play our cards right, we might be able to get into a helicopter. I can pilot it, but we’ll need to find a way to leave Ra’s and his assassins behind without raising suspicion. You made two duplicates of yourself earlier. Can you make another? If you can dismiss the duplicates in some way, then all you need to do is swap your real body with a duplicate that’s possessing one of these three. You can either follow us visibly and we’ll say you’re under Ra’s’ control or you can turn invisible and follow me into the chopper. Find an excuse to have Ra’s and his assassin’s leave the chopper long enough for me to start it up.”

“Wow.” Phantom sounded beyond impressed. Red Robin ignored the heat in his cheeks and cleared his throat.

“Sounds like a plan?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean…” Phantom rubbed the back of his neck (another weird thing to see Ra’s do. Thank god his mask had a built-in camera because Tim needed to show this to everyone. “It’s a good plan. Like, a really good plan. Except making clones is exhausting and this guy is gonna regain control very soon.” To emphasize his point, Phantom winced and the light in Ra’s’s eyes flickered. “So uh, new plan? I get out of these three, grab you, and fly us out of here.”

“One addition.” Red Robin took out several disks from one of his pouches and threw them onto the ground. Each disk blinked three times before it exploded, destroying the ground and the summoning circle beneath. “Now we can go.”

Three Phantoms left their human hosts and all three humans dropped to the ground unconscious. The two clones vanished in a puff of smoke while the real Phantom offered his hand to Red Robin, a slight blush on his cheek. “Ready to fly?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Red Robin took hold of Phantom’s hand. Once more, gravity’s effects vanished and Phantom flew them not just up to the cave roof, but through it. They phased harmlessly through rocks and stone into the hallway of the League Headquarters above, scaring the daylights out of a pair of trainees. Phantom didn’t stop there. Higher and higher they climbed until they were free of the League. Both teens laughed as Phantom leveled off and headed in what was probably a random direction. Still grinning, Red Robin activated his long-range comms. “Red Robin to Watchtower. We need a pickup.”

Chapter Text

Red Robin smiled, his expression a little dreamy as he watched Phantom float while glued to the window in the Watchtower’s viewing room, the not-quite ghost’s face pressed flat against the glass. Phantom’s breath fogged the window a little; not as much as he’d expect from a living human, but way more than he’d expect from a dead one. Phantom was like this from the second they stepped foot into the Watchtower, enthralled by space and spouting non-stop facts about his favorite stars and planets.

It gave Red Robin time to go through the files he pulled from Amity Park. Specifically the ones about the Fentons. Once Red Robin realized that Phantom wasn’t a full ghost, he dove back into those only to find the Fenton family picture once more. There it was. The answer as plain and hidden as Clark Kent’s glasses. It raised a lot of questions. Ones Tim didn’t want to ask because he knew the second he started Phantom would likely shut down. Some Tim wasn’t sure he wouldn’t like the answers to. Then all of that unremitting joy would fade. So Red Robin waited just a little bit longer.

Constantine, as usual, ruined the mood. He stormed into the observation deck with Batman hot on his heels.

“Report,” Batman ordered. Red Robin stood at attention and recounted the events. Phantom slowly pulled himself away from the window, but he didn’t dare draw closer. When Red Robin finished, Batman snapped at Constantine. “What happened to your protection spell?”

Constantine shoved his hands into his pockets and glowered at the Bat. “You try to invent a spell specifically designed to make the Ghost King, who might I add is an infant and unknowable god, unsummonable except to a select few and untraceable to equally those few.”

“What about the pendant you gave him?” Ooh, that was Batman’s angry voice. Most couldn’t tell the difference, but every Robin learned to identify the subtle differences between his various gravely tones. Not that it made a difference. Constantine looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. Phantom glanced frantically between the two adults, his attention swapping as if watching a tennis match.

“That” Constantine jutted a finger at the pendant that Phantom still wore, “is the magical equivalent of ducktape, gum, and a prayer. It doesn’t make him unsumonable. It only hides his signature and the damn thing’s already failing.”

“You’ve had weeks.”

“Weeks ain’t enough! I’m missing something and can’t even begin to guess what because we know almost nothing about the Infinite Realms and even less about the lad! I could spend the next three lifetimes and still not figure this shit out.”

“Does it make a difference if Phantom isn’t a ghost?” Red Robin asked it casually, but the speed at which Batman’s and Constantine’s heads turned to face him nearly broke the sound barrier. Red Robin glanced over at Phantom and his heart shattered. Phantom looked terrified. From the way his breath quickened and his body shook, he seemed like he was on the edge of a panic attack. Scrambling, Red Robin rushed over to Phantom and placed a hand on the other teen’s arm. “Hey. Phantom? It’s okay. Look at me.” No response. “Danny.”

Wide glassy green eyes turned up to him and Phantom’s whole body trembled. “...How-” Phantom’s voice, barely above a whisper, caught. He sounded so small.

“We’ve all got secret identities. It comes with the Life.” Moving slowly over to Phantom, Red Robin carefully lowered Phantom from where he floated to the ground. “No one outside of this room has to find out, but if we’re going to protect you then Constantine needs to know. The spell won’t work otherwise.”

Phantom shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Phantom,” Batman said, his voice soft.

“No!” Phantom shook his head harder and tears dripped down his cheeks. “I can’t! It’s bad enough that the Guys In White made ghosts illegal. If my parents find out they’ll hate me! Or themselves! It was an accident! And if Plasmius realizes what happened he’ll… I don’t know, but that fruit loop will do something!”

“Plasmius?” Robin questioned. He looked over to Batman who frowned.

“Yeah.” Phantom sniffled. “Vlad Plasmius. He’s a ghost that I fight and a complete nutcase.”

Something clicked in Batman’s mind. “Vlad Masters.” Phantom balked and then nodded. “That explains a lot.” Both Red Robin's and Phantom’s brows furrowed in confusion, though for different reasons. Batman pressed on. He strode over and settled a hand on Phantom’s shoulders, his features softened further. “Phantom, we’re here to help. The Ghost Investigation Ward, or Guys In White, won’t hurt you. The Justice League won’t let them. Nor will they operate for much longer. We’re working on dismantling them and those laws. They never should have passed in the first place and the fact that they did is our failure. Leave them to us. As well as your parents. We’ve handled parents of meta-children before and we can help you through that too. As for Masters, let me take care of him.”

“This is good and all, but let’s get back to the part where you tell me exactly what you are so I can make sure no one else summons you.” Constantine was the only one still standing, his hands still in his pockets and his body language screaming his unease. The guy didn’t know what to do with crying kids.

Phantom took a deep breath and nodded. A ring of light appeared around his waist. Batman jumped back, but Red Robin stayed close. The light split, traveling up and down Phantom’s body. It passed harmlessly through Red Robin's hand. A boy in a white t-shirt and baggy jeans stood next to Tim, his black hair and blue eyes very human. Tim thought it when he first saw Danny Fenton in the photo but now he was sure. “Code Robin,” Tim chuckled under his breath. Danny clearly heard it if his confused expression was anything to go by. Batman shot Red Robin a warning look. Constantine, on the other hand, looked like he had a stroke.

“Kid. You’re gonna tell me what you are and it’s not gonna be a five-letter word that starts with H.”

“You know about halfas?” Danny looked legitimately surprised as Constantine swore up and down. Both Tim and Danny learned some new words.

“What,” Batman demanded as he stood.

“Halfas are theoretical at best and completely impossible in every other regard! They’re the Schrodinger's cat of the magical realm. A thought experiment that doesn’t actually exist! Halfas are creatures that exist in a perfect balance between life and death. Not only would one be extremely powerful, but they’d have every advantage of the living and the dead.”

“Every disadvantage too,” Danny grumbled. Constantine took his flask out and tried to down all of it. Batman ripped it away from him. “I take it Masters is one too?” Danny nodded.

“Great. Just fucking great. There’s two of them.”

“Three… actually…” Constantine’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Tim wondered if he should get a chair or popcorn. “I told you. Vlad’s a fruit loop. He tried to clone me and mooooost of them failed. But my cousin, who is really my clone but that’s weird so we call her my cousin, Dani, with an I, survived. She travels a lot.” Danny decided not to mention his evil future self stuck in a Fenton Thermos in Clockwork’s tower.

“Oh, good. We can make a bloody band.” Constantine carded his hand through his hair and looked at his flask that was still in Batman’s hand, contemplating if trying to get it was worth the inevitable broken bones. After a beat, Constantine likely decided he liked his limbs intact because he asked, “Any other laws of reality that you casually broke you want to tell us about?” Danny paused for way too long before he shook his head. Red Robin suspected that there was more, but Danny decided to take the ‘want’ part of Constantine’s sentence literally. “Bloody brilliant. Alright. Well, the good news is I can make the spell now.”

“And the bad news,” Red Robin dared to ask.

Constantine waved a dismissive hand as he headed for the door. “Everything else.”

“On a scale of eleven to a hundred, how in trouble am I?” Danny shifted uneasily, clearly ready for the other shoe to drop.

Red Robin cocked a smile and hugged Danny tight. “Not in the slightest.”

Chapter Text

Once Danny calmed down enough, he transformed back and Red Robin gave Phantom a modified tour of the Watchtower. They didn’t get a whole lot of visitors, for obvious reasons, but Red Robin still managed to find some spots that were only moderately classified. Most of them involved really big windows where Phantom could gaze out into the endless expanse of space and info dump on Red Robin who actively listened and even asked some questions. By the time the tour came to an end, Phantom radiated happiness. Literally. He glowed brighter than before.

Rather than go back by space shuttle, which was how they got to the tower in the first place, Red Robin led Phantom to something he called Zeta Tubes. Phantom didn’t understand most of Red Robin’s explanation but he got the gist that it was some kind of modified alien tech that let them instantly teleport to other connected tubes. They chose one in Gotham, some back alley location, both because Phantom knew his way home from there but also because Phantom wanted to do another round of filtration with Red Hood. Red Robin tried to talk him out of it considering everything that happened, but they were so close to finishing! Only two or three more sessions to go! He might as well get one done and then collapse back home.

“Hey, Phantom.” Red Robin touched Phantom’s arm and both boys stopped before the tubes. “I know things at home are… tough.” Talk about an understatement. They both knew it too. “But I wanted to let you know that you aren’t alone. Not anymore. From what I’ve seen with you, Hood, and Constantine now that we know each other personally, whatever magic that keeps Amity Park separated will let us text and call. You’ve got my number now, so if you need anything let me know.”

Phantom smiled wide and Red Robin blushed a little. “Thanks. I promise to call you next time I need help. And there’s absolutely gonna be a next time.”

Red Robin laughed. “No kidding. And don’t think I won’t hit you up when a ghost pops up. You’re our expert now.”

Phantom groaned dramatically without any real distaste, purely to get Red Robin to laugh again. He succeeded. Grinning from ear to ear, Phantom quickly glanced around to make sure no one else was listening. He cleared his throat and nervously asked, “Do you mind if I um, well… text you just to like… talk?” Phantom blushed as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh. Uh, yeah!” Red Robin shifted as his hands repeatedly clenched and unclenched at his side to try and dissipate some of his own nerves. “Totally. I’d… actually really like that.”

“Really?” Phantom brightened even more. The half-ghost’s aura radiated with increasing hope. Red Robin’s nerves waned in the wake of that soft warmth.

“Only if it’s okay for me to do the same.” Phantom nodded furiously. “Great! Oh, and that reminds me.” Red Robin pulled a small disk out of one of his many belt pouches. “Here. It’s an emergency beacon. That’ll send an SOS to me and my team. It doubles as a tracker once you turn it on so don’t lose it. Also,” Red Robin straightened and adjusted his bandolier-styled pouches to make himself look more official. “I wanted to formally invite you to join Young Justice. It’s a team I founded with Superboy and Impulse. Wonder Girl, Spoiler, and Orphan joined as well. There’s a spot for you if you want it.”

Eyes wide and jaw dropped, Phantom stared at Red Robin in complete shock. They wanted him on their team? Him? That’s… a lot more than Phantom ever hoped for. Sure, he used to dream about teaming up with the Justice League, but Red Robin wanted him to join a team full of other teen superheroes! That was so, so… impossible. At least at the moment. Phantom deflated and Red Robin wasn’t far behind.

“It’s just an offer!” Red Robin stepped away as he hardcore backpedaled. “Robin runs the Teen Titans if you’d prefer to join him instead. I can put a good word in for you.”

“It’s not that,” Phantom said with a sad shake of his head. “It’s that so long as the anti-ecto laws stand I can’t join any team because you’ll all become felons and target for the Guys In White.” Red Robin snorted at that. Oh right. Red Robin was a Gotham vigilante. Technically, he broke the law all the time. “Also there’s my parents. I can cover for ghost fights and stuff in Amity Park cus those don’t last very long, but there’s no way I can explain staying away for hours or even days to go on missions with you and your team.”

“What if you told them?” Red Robin’s expression was one part sympathy and two parts encouraging. Despite that, dread still rolled through Phantom’s core. “Danny, they’re your parents. You can correct me if I’m wrong, but the ghost thing is the only point of major conflict between you and them.” Phantom nodded. “A big chunk of that is because they don’t know. If you have a good relationship with them then they’re bound to accept you. As long as you live with them, they’ll find out your secret one way or another. Why not let them know on your terms?”

Phantom wrung his hands and bit the inside of his lip. His parents did accept him once. It was an alternate timeline and he literally just saved them from a reality-bending evil circus ringmaster, but still. The issue was that his parents were more radical now than back then. Not to mention what happened with the summoning. People died just so someone could get to him. And wasn’t that yet another therapy session to put off forever? But it was one more point in the ‘ghosts are evil’ box. What if his parents rejected him? Red Robin placed a hand on Phantom’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. A little smile returned to Phantom’s face and he nodded.

“You’re right.” Phantom took a deep breath. “I’ll tell them.”

Red Robin beamed with pride and Phantom’s heart swelled. With a clap on the back, the pair headed into the Zeta Tube. It took them to Gotham as promised. After shooting Hood a quick text, Phantom and Red Robin headed over to Danny’s “Gotham Apartment” as Hood liked to call it, and settled down to watch a TV show until Hood showed up. Turned out, they loved a lot of the same things. Anime, b-horror films, video games. They were deep in a discussion about the latest anime that season when Hood showed up. That’s when the real entertainment began.

The two Gotham capes bickered like siblings. Although they were a little more violent about it since both were highly trained and heavily armed. Hood wanted Red Robin a thousand miles away while Red Robin pulled the new friend card to stay. Phantom chuckled and snacked on some chips as he watched the drama unfold. After a good half hour, the siblings agreed to a temporary truce. Red Robin could stay in Hood’s neck of the woods until Phantom left. In return, Red Robin promised not to tell the rest of the Bats that Hood semi-adopted Phantom. Hood insisted that’s not what happened, but Red Robin didn’t believe Hood and loudly voiced his opinion.

Between that and his downtime watching anime, Phantom had the energy to siphon off a good chunk of the remaining contamination and fly home without totally exhausting himself. Just nearly exhausting himself. With a goodbye and a promise to keep in touch, Phantom flew back to Amity Park to have a long overdue conversation with his parents.

Chapter Text

“I can do this. I can do this.” Danny paced in his room, wearing a dent into the floor in the process. Anxiety curled and churned in his gut like a ball of slithering snakes that sat for too long out in the sun. After getting home the night before, and getting into trouble for missing curfew, Danny spent the entire night trying to psyche himself up enough to take the plunge. Needless to say, Danny didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. Add that to his generally poor sleep schedule plus how much he used his powers the night before and well… Danny’s eyebags were impressively large. He felt both bone tired and keyed up. Not a great combination for a life-altering conversation.

Jazz already left for school. Sam and Tucker knew not to wait for him. He texted them earlier. Danny decided to play the sick card. Of course, his friends and Jazz all knew he wasn’t actually sick. Danny felt sick, but that was the nerves. Jazz offered (argued actually) to stay with him. The same with his friends. But Danny wanted to do this on his own. This was his secret. It needed to come from him and him alone. No more lies. That and Danny knew about the emotional, physical, and generational trauma PowerPoint Jazz made and desperately wanted to subject their parents to. He figured they needed at least some time to process before Jazz lectured them. They deserved that. When that happened, Sam and Tucker planned to rescue Danny from said PowerPoint with the promise of congratulatory ice cream after school. Besides, this technically wasn’t the first time his parents found out. It’d just be the first time Danny didn’t reset the timeline.

“Okay. Okay. On my terms.” Danny took a deep breath and forced himself to head down the stairs and into the basement. His parents were exactly where he expected to find them, completely absorbed with their work in the lab. Jack, Danny’s dad and absolute giant of a man in an eye-bleeding orange hazmat suit, sat hunched over the desk finalizing what looked like a brand-new blaster. Great. Danny’s first thought was that he’d have to sabotage yet another weapon (or hide it in case it already didn’t function and thus was likely to explode). Except after this, he wouldn’t have to. He could be open to his parents! Danny smiled as his mom looked up at him. Maddie wore an eye-strainingly teal hazmat suit, the hood of which she pulled back after she set down her scalpel. A lump of ectoplasmic goo that reminded Danny of mashed potatoes sat on a dissection tray. Danny looked forward to stopping that kind of thing as well.

“Sweetie?” Maddie asked. She trotted over to Danny and brushed his bangs away to feel his forehead. “What’s wrong? Are you running a fever? I know I’ve got cold medicine somewhere around here.” Maddie looked around while Danny silently prayed that she didn’t actually keep their supply of cold medicine in the lab.

“Mom, I’m fine.” Danny gently pulled his mom’s hand away.

“You’re fine? What about your cold, Dann-o? This isn’t a hookie thing, is it?” Jack looked up from his invention with a disapproving scowl. “Your grades are already bad enough.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Danny deadpanned. He shook his head and waved his hands in front of himself to try and clear the air. “No, no. Look. I have something I need to talk to you both about. Something really important and… something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.” Danny awkwardly rubbed his arm and looked away as years of guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders.

“Oh, sweetie.” Maddie gently took Danny’s face into her hands and turned his head so it faced her. “You know you can tell your father and me anything.”

“Unless it’s a lie. That you’re not allowed to tell,” Jack added with a curt nod. Danny rolled his eyes as Maddie chuckled.

“Yeah, well. That’s kind of it. I did lie to you. To both of you. A lot.” Danny glanced away. Maddie’s hands went to Danny’s shoulders and both his parents wore disapproving and confused frowns.

“About what,” his mom asked.

“About Phantom.”

The reaction was immediate. Jack grabbed his newest weapon, finished or not, and turned it on. Maddie snatched her hip Fenton Blaster and turned that on as well. Jack shouted, “Where is he? What did he do to you? If he did something to you then I will tear him apart molecule by molecule!” Danny winced as his Dad searched for an invisible enemy that actually stood not five feet away.

“You wanted to do that anyway,” Danny grumbled. It wasn’t his first time hearing the molecule-by-molecule speech. His mouth set into a thin line as he watched his parents freak out at just the mention of Phantom. They always did this. Every time! It happened even with other ghosts too. No matter how many times Danny and Jazz tried to gently explain that ghosts weren’t as bad as his parents thought, they refused to listen. Danny was so sick of it!

“No, Jack’s right. If Phantom hurt you-”

“I’m Phantom!” Danny shouted. His parents froze. The whole world went still. One tick. Then another. Danny held his breath as he waited for them to say something. Instead, they both broke out laughing. Peels of it echoed across the smooth metal walls as his parents giggled like school kids. Sputtering, Danny stumbled through his words. “Wha- it’s true!”

“Oh, honey.” Maddie pulled Danny in for a hug. Danny pushed her away. She sighed heavily. “You should go to bed. That cold of yours seems to be quite serious. I’ll make an appointment with the doctor and if it gets any worse we’ll take you to the hospital.”

“GAH!” Danny pulled his hair out in frustration as his dad continued to laugh. Maddie chastised Jack, but it was so weak that she might as well have joined him. “Fine. I’ll prove it to you. I’m going ghost!” Danny’s transformation rings appeared and his dad’s laughter died on the spot. By the time Danny fully transformed, two ectoweapons were armed and aimed directly at him. Jack looked angrier than Danny had ever seen him. Maddie too. Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t lower her gun. “Mom? Dad?”

His mom stormed forward, her gun pointed directly at his head. Scrambling, Danny threw his hands up in surrender. “Where’s Danny? WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON!?”

“It’s me! I’m your son! I’m Danny!” Jack faltered for a moment, clearly conflicted.

“Jack! The button!” Danny’s eyes widened as his dad threw aside any confusion and rushed over to the nearby computer terminal. The one with the giant red ghost alarm button. Panicking, Danny tried to fly after his dad. A burst of pain and fire erupted in his side, knocking him to the ground and sending him skidding into a workbench. An alarm blared over the loudspeakers and a robotic version of his dad’s voice announced, “Fenton Works Anti-Ghost Invasion Mode activated. Prepare to be destroyed and or experimented on.” A heavy metal door slammed shut, blocking off the stairs. The Fenton Ghost Portal followed suit and locked itself with solid steel beams, cutting off Danny’s route to the Ghost Zone, aka the Infinite Realms. Several anti-ghost turrets shot out of hidden compartments in the lab walls and aimed at the only ghost in the room.

Groaning in pain, Danny clutched his side as he struggled to his feet. Vertigo, nausea, and panic warred with one another and made his legs quiver. When he pulled his glove off his wound it came away green. Shit. “Please! Give me a chance to explain! It’s not what you think.”

“Oooh, you’ll explain alright,” Maddie snarled. Both of his parents started shooting. Danny leaped into the air, ducking and dodging the blaster fire. When he tried to turn intangible and escape through the ceiling, he hit his head instead. Damnit! Why did the Fenton Anti-Ghost Flooring, Ceiling, and Walls have to be one of the inventions that actually worked? Danny’s mom continued to shout over the blaster fire. “You’ll explain exactly what you did to my baby boy and tell me where to find him. If I find a single hair out of place on his beautiful head I will end you myself!”

“Please!” Danny threw up a shield over himself, deflecting some of the blasts. But when one gun ran out of juice his parents simply reached over and grabbed another. “It’s me! It’s me! I’m Danny! Please believe me!” Desperation cracked his voice. Tears ran down Danny’s face and his whole body shook from exhaustion, pain, and sobs. Danny’s pleas fell on deaf ears. He waited too long. There was too much history between them and his parents were too radicalized.

“Cover me,” shouted Jack. Maddie grabbed a second gun and rained fire up at Danny. His shield started to crack in a growing spider web of splinters. Frantic, Danny searched for a way out. But it was too late. Jack pulled out a freaking rocket launcher and aimed it directly at Danny. “FIRE IN THE HOLE!”

Everything exploded and Danny’s world turned dark.

Chapter Text

“Danny?” Jazz stepped into the deathly silent house. All the lights were off. Nothing moved. Every hair on the back of her neck stood up. Jazz tiptoed through the living room. “Mom?” Nothing. “Dad…” Moving as quietly as she could, Jazz grabbed the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick (a baseball bat with the Fenton logo on it) from the closet and placed her backpack on the dining room table. Bat out in front of her, Jazz opened the lab door and peered down the darkened stairs. “Danny?”

What waited inside the lab made Jazz’s heart stop. Blast marks littered the walls and tables. The Ghost Portal was on lockdown. The turrets, though powered down, were out. Then she saw it. The spot of glowing green on the floor. “No!” Jazz threw the stick aside and dashed to the spot where she fell to her knees with a punched-out sob. Jazz had patched up Danny too many times to not recognize ectoplasmic blood. “Nononononono.”

Hands trembling, Jazz scrambled for her phone. She could barely hold it as she frantically dialed Sam.

“Hey Jazz, what’s-”

“SOMETHING HAPPENED TO DANNY!” Jazz broke down in tears, her hand framing the spot of glowing green on the cold tiled floors. Sam and Tucker’s voices sounded so far away. She knew they were asking questions, but she couldn’t hear them. Her breath came in rapid bursts but she couldn’t catch it. Jazz’s heart pounded like a herd of elephants. Her stomach rolled and her fingers tingled. I’m having a panic attack, she thought. Except she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Tucker and Sam broke into a sprint. Sam shoved her phone into Tucker’s hand so she could grab her wrist-mounted ray gun. Although it was another Fenton device designed to hunt ghosts it still stung when it hit a human and was better than nothing. Tucker pulled out his own Fenton weapon, a laser disguised as lipstick. “Jazz? Hello? We’re on our way, okay? What happened? Are your parents there?”

Once at the house, Sam kicked down the door with her combat boots and both teens darted into the lab. Jazz sat by the blood, her head hung as she gasped for air. They were at her side in an instant. “Jazz? Jazz?” Sam shook Jazz’s shoulder but she didn’t even notice them. “Tucker, check the security footage. I’m gonna walk Jazz through the breathing exercises she taught us.”

“On it!” Tucker didn’t even have to try and hack the Fenton computers. He put in an override (with Danny’s permission) six months after the accident. Sam barely managed to pull Jazz out of her panic attack only for the security tapes to nearly send her into another one. Sam hugged Jazz tight as she cried into Sam’s shoulder. Tucker wrapped an arm around them both as they all watched the events from that morning unfold with mounting horror. After the fight, Maddie and Jack pulled an unconscious Danny onto a dissection table. The one designed for the more human-like ghosts with ghost-proof steel and cuffs. None of them could bear to watch what happened next. Tucker fast-forwarded it, though even at high speed there was no mistaking the flash of electricity and Danny’s writhing form. They all knew what he looked like when he screamed.

Hours later on the tape, Maddie disappeared and Tucker returned the playback to normal speed. When Maddie came back, she sucked Danny up into a Thermos (one of their extras since Danny stole the original) and both scientists left. That was three hours ago.

“W-what do we do?” Tucker shakily asked once the camera footage picked up Jazz entering the lab. Ashen, he stopped the playback and looked at the others. All three of them had red puffy eyes and tears streaming down their faces.

“What about the Justice League,” asked Jazz, her voice wavering and hoarse. She pulled back to wipe her eyes with the heels of her palms. “They… Danny said they wanted to help. He said Robin gave him a device-”

“The League won’t help.” Sam wrapped her arms around herself. “They never did before. They won’t now. Assuming we can even get ahold of them because of that weirdo contact thing. Even if we could, why would they? The only reason they’re ‘helping’ Danny now is because they don’t want some whack jobs summoning him. But this?” Sam waved her hand at the screen. “This solves their problem! Can’t summon a Ghost King if he doesn’t exist anymore!”

“Don’t say that,” Jazz snapped at Sam. “Don’t you dare say that. He can’t… They wouldn’t…” Jazz put her face in her hands and sobbed again.

“Except they did.” Tucker had returned to the console. He pulled up a message chain between the GIW and the Fentons. “‘Bring the specimen to Facility 6 at once for processing and’…” Tucker forced himself to breathe, but it got harder and harder with every word. “‘And experimentation.’”

“Did you manage to hack into the GIW system yet,” Sam asked with both hope and dread. Tucker shook his head.

“No I… They upped their security since last time and I-I thought I had more time.”

“So what do we do?” Sam asked as she held onto herself even tighter.

Jazz took a deep breath and stood as straight as she could. She forced herself to sound more confident than she felt. “We make a plan.”

Except making a plan was easier said than done. Nothing they came up with worked. All of Tucker’s attempts to hack into the GIW systems failed. The place was on total lockdown. In a move of desperation, Jazz even drove them around town to the various hidden bases Team Phantom already knew about. All three teens stopped going to school for the next three days. They did nothing but plan and fail over and over again.

Out of ideas and rapidly running out of time, the trio sat in Jazz’s car as she drove them out of Amity Park. A few months back, Tucker noted a possible base location outside of Amity Park, but they didn’t know if it existed or exactly where it might be. After searching for a while with no success, Jazz pulled off and parked on the side of the road. She turned around and looked at the two younger teens sitting in the back. All of them looked haggard. Giant bags hung under their eyes and none of them ate well. Jazz pursed her chapped lips together and made her decision. “We need to call the Justice League.”

“How?” Sam threw her hands up, exasperated. “The only one they ever answered was Danny and that was only after the summoning. He has his phone, so we can’t pretend to be him and they won’t answer us.”

“What if we tried calling them directly?” Both girls turned and stared at Tucker like he’d grown a third head. “I mean, we tried the public emergency line before. But Danny had their personal numbers. What if we tried that?”

“Except they gave those numbers to Danny, Tuck. Remember?” Sam glared at Tucker who glared back. All of them were on edge and snappy.

“Yeah, well, I hacked his phone!”

“You did what!?” Sam screeched, her fury overtaking her.

“Yeah, I did it. I hacked his phone because I wanted to call Black Canary. There. I said it.”

“UGH!” Sam looked ready to strangle Tucker. “You are such an immature little-”

“ENOUGH!” Jazz’s voice cut through the argument like a hot knife through butter. “Sam now’s not the time to yell at Tucker for overstepping boundaries. Tucker, give me the numbers. We’re calling them.”

The fact that Danny got more than one number made calling the Justice League a lot harder than they initially thought. And that was saying something. He didn’t have any contact conveniently labeled “Prive Justice League Phone.” No. Instead, he had Red Hood, Constantine, Martian Manhunter, Red Robin, and Shazam. That set off a fresh round of bickering as they argued over who to call.

“Red Hood,” Sam insisted. “Danny visits him a lot and that’s exactly the kind of firepower we need.”

“We’re not calling a mass murderer to save my brother! That’s the exact opposite of help!” Jazz took Tucker’s phone and scrolled up, “We call Constantine. He’s the one making that anti-summon spell.”

Sam yanked the phone out of Jazz’s hand. “Except Constantine is a well-known con artist in the magical community. We can’t call him! If we’re going to get someone magical, then we might as well call Shazam.”

Tucker plucked his phone from Sam’s hand. “How about Red Robin? According to my logs, Danny texted the guy the whole night.” Tucker scrolled through his file on Danny for the others to see. “Also, I think Danny’s kind of into him.”

Sam stared at him flatly “Seriously, Tuck. Boundaries.”

“Hey!” Tucker pulled his phone closer to his chest and glared at Sam. “Excuse me for taking extra precautions now that Danny’s in contact with the Justice League. Especially now that Batman knows about him. That was a doomsday scenario, remember? So yeah, I monitor his texts in case something happened, and oh look, something happened.” Jazz and Sam looked skeptical but nodded. “So are we calling Red Robin or not?” Another pair of nods. “Good.”

Chapter Text

“I’m worried,” Red Robin said from his spot in the chair by the Batcomputer. Several of the Birds and Bats were with him. Nightwing lounged on a second-floor railing that looked down at the rest of the cave. Robin claimed a spot at the bottom of the stairs, the boy's fingers interlocked and hiding his thin-lined mouth as he thought and glared at everyone. Spoiler stood next to Red Robin, her focus on the computer as she searched through Phantom’s files. Hood lounged against his bike, his helmeted head tilted sideways and his arms crossed. Batman and Constantine stood next to one another, facing the entire group. No one looked happy. “He hasn’t texted me in three days.”

“Maybe he’s just not that into you,” Hood teased. “Ever consider that, Replacement?”

Red Robin shot Hood a venomous look and gritted his teeth. “Have you heard from him?” Hood turned away, his entire body tensing with poorly concealed worry. “Thought so.”

“I haven’t heard from him either.” Constantine thumbed the bottle of whisky in his pocket, debating if it was worth it to try and take a drink with Batman and his brood so close by. Damn, he needed a drink. Or a smoke. He wished there weren’t kids around. “After I finished the spell yesterday, I called him. Figured the kid might want some input on what object I grounded it to. Nothing. Tried calling and texting today. Still nothing.”

“Do we call it?” Something happened. Red Robin knew it. He got that same feeling when Batman disappeared. Everyone said Batman died, but Red Robin knew better and he was right then. Even though it’d only been a few days, Phantom going dark so suddenly seemed out of character. Not to mention the talk with his parents… Tim hoped to god that wasn’t it. Considering what he knew about Phantom, it was only one of many possibilities. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

“Not yet,” said Batman. “We barely got Phantom to agree to let us help last time. He turned down Red Robin’s invitation to join Young Justice. With how skittish he was, it’s possible he’s changed his mind about working with us. I want-”

A blip on the screen of Red Robin’s gauntlet blinked red. Frowning, he checked the caller ID. It wasn’t one he knew. Instantly suspicious, Red Robin sat up. The second Red Robin stiffened so did everyone else in the room. He patched the line through to his com so that Oracle could listen in and backtrace the connection from her command center in one of Gotham’s clock towers. “Who is this and how did you get this number?”

“Oh good, he threatened me! That’s how they say hello in Gotham, right?” The voice sounded like a young man, mid-teens. He didn’t talk directly into the phone, so someone else was with him. “Are you Red Robin or do you know Red Robin?”

Tim rapidly went through a possible list of suspects. Danny didn’t seem the type to share another cape’s number, nor did they call a bigger-named hero like Shazam or Manhunter. So this wasn’t a casual call from teens trying to grab some bragging rights. That narrowed the list to Danny’s inner circle. Of the three, only one was a guy and he just so happened to be the tech genius of the three. “Tucker Foley. What happened to Phantom?”

“...Wow, you’re good.” Tim heard someone smack Tucker and his subsequent indignant noise of pain. A hushed angry feminine voice said something to Tucker, but Red Robin didn’t catch her words. Probably Sam Manson. “Okay. So I don’t know how much Danny told you but he tried to talk to his parents the other night about the whole ghost thing and they did NOT take it well. ”

Tim’s heart froze. He swallowed down rising bile. It was only thanks to his training that his expression and tone remained perfectly neutral. A glance around the room showed everyone in a similar state, alert and carefully neutral (or scowling in Robin’s case). “How bad?”

“Worst case scenario bad. They-” Tucker’s voice hitched and it took him a moment before he continued. “He’s at a Ghost Investigation Ward base. But we don’t know which one and we’ve tried everything we could think of.”

Red Robin turned back to the computer to activate Phantom’s beacon. It flared to life on a map, indicating a spot ten miles outside of Amity Park. The satellite data showed a single white concrete building in the middle of a clearing. The building itself wasn’t very large, but it could easily be the tip of an iceberg hiding an entire compound underneath. “I’ve got him. He’s not too far outside of Amity.”

“Wait, how do you know that?” A third voice, this one a girl’s as well. Jazz, the older sister.

“Last time I saw Phantom I gave him a device he could use in case of emergencies. It lets me track his location.” What Red Robin failed to mention was that Phantom didn’t need to turn it on in order for Red Robin to trace it. “How long ago did this happen?”

“Day after he came back from space.”

Red Robin made a hand motion to the others in the cave. Everyone was up. The cave turned into a flurry of activity. Batman ordered Constantine to the Watchtower. Cursing, Constantine opened a magical gate so he could get started on the summoning circle. Oracle called Shazam while Batman got on the line with Martian Manhunter. Red Hood followed Constantine through the portal with Batman a step behind him. Red Robin darted into the portal at the last second. Robin tried to follow Batman as well, but Nightwing caught him before he could.

The rest divided up patrols to cover Gotham. All of them wanted to jump to Phantom’s aid and it wasn’t just because they were heroes who wanted to save someone in trouble. The Ghost King caught Tim’s eyes and helped Jason filter the Pit Madness from his system. He was important to them. By that point, there wasn’t much they wouldn’t do for Phantom. It killed those left behind to not jump in and help. Or better yet, storm the now-revealed enemy base. But they were all seasoned enough (well, most of them) to know that they would be more helpful if they stayed in Gotham and kept the Rogues in line so there’d be no distractions. At least Oracle was on the line and able to start the investigation into the newly discovered base.

Now in the Watchtower, Red Robin held a hand high up and waved at Constantine. The occult detective, who already had a piece of chalk out, paused long enough to toss Red Robin a second stick. While they worked to set up the intricate circle, Red Robin continued his conversation with Tucker.

“Do you know Phantom’s current condition?” Tucker made a confused noise. “Is he injured?”

“I mean, we found blood in the lab but that was days ago. Phantom heals fast.”

“This is the Guys In White, Tucker.” That sounded like Sam again. “Of course he’s injured! They… we both heard them say what they wanted to do with him.”

“And that is?” Tim knew he’d regret asking, but he needed to know.

“Experiments,” both teens quoted, sounding sick to their stomachs. Red Robin froze, his hand perfectly still so as not to disrupt the circle. “Lots and lots of painful experiments.”

Bile and rage almost as blinding as pit madness warred in Tim’s throat. He shoved both of them into a compartmentalized box in his mind. Now wasn’t the time for emotions. Gripping the chalk harder, Red Robin went back to work. “Shit. Okay. How much do you three know about Phantom’s biology? We’re working to get him out of there, but if he’s injured we need to know how to help him. Considering the Drs. Fenton are biased, do any of you three know his baseline?”

“We know how to patch him up. We’ve done it before. Give us the location and we’ll meet you guys outside the base.” Jazz again. Her voice sounded hard and strained.

“Negative.” The line blew up as all three teens screamed into Red Robin’s ear. He winced but plowed ahead. “We’re sending you an address in Gotham. Go there and someone will meet you. They’ll bring you to us. If Phantom’s as bad as you think he is, he’ll need an actual hospital, not a bathroom and first aid kit.”

Although none of Danny’s friends sounded happy about it, they eventually agreed to drive over to Gotham. It was a several-hour-long trip. In the meantime, Tucker sent Red Robin basic baselines for Phantom, both in human and ghost forms. It took a lot of convincing to get both, but once Red Robin explained he already knew Danny’s secret, Tucker reluctantly handed the files over.

Red Robin, Batman, and Hood were all keenly aware of each passing second as it dragged on. Martian Manhunter arrived quickly, but Shazam took longer. Billy, Shazam’s civilian identity, struggled to find an excuse to get away from his adopted family. It took nearly forty minutes for him to arrive. By then, the summoning circle was complete and Zatanna stood ready to recite the incantation. Black Canary, Flash, and Superman were all on standby.

Each sacrifice took their place, their bowls of blood in position. As soon as Zatanna started chanting the circle turned that haunting shade of green. Tim’s heart pounded in his chest as he stood just outside the summoning circle. No matter what anyone said, Red Robin refused to leave the room.

Light burst into the room and once more Phantom floated above the circle, his quivering body curled up tight. His suit was ripped in some places and missing in others. Ectosplamic blood slowly dripped from open or hidden wounds down onto the floor. Phantom hovered there for only a second before he dropped like a lead balloon. Tim darted forward, his heart hammering as he scooped Phantom into his arms. Moving carefully, Tim turned Phantom onto his back.

What awaited them was straight out of a horror film. Cuts and bruises littered his body, all in various states of healing. Some parts of his suit had square holes of varying sizes in them and though the flesh beneath it was smooth it was clear why they were there. The worst was Phantom’s chest. A massive Y-shaped incision reached from his shoulders to his belly button. Tim nearly puked.

“Those fuckers!” Red Hood snapped. He pulled out a gun and checked the magazine before snapping it into place. Jason was going to kill them. They deserved it. No kid should have to bear those marks; ones Jason knew all too well. Jason desperately hoped that ghosts didn’t scar because he could barely stand to look at the ones he bore. Except Jason was fully and totally unaware when it happened. He knew better than to hope the same for Danny. Hood stormed toward the door. “That’s it. They’re dead. Oracle, give me the coordinates. NOW!”

“Hood,” Black Canary said as she cut him off. “That’s not how we handle things. You need to stand down.”

Hood snarled and tried to push past her but Superman moved to block his way. “Batman,” asked the man of steel. “A little help?”

Bruce couldn’t look away from the grisly scene in front of him. Phantom groaned and his hold on his ghost form failed. The transformation rings appeared, shifting the Ghost King into a sixteen-year-old boy. When Bruce stared down at Danny all he saw was Jason. They were about the same age. The same shade of black in their hair. Bruce now knew about the Ghost Investigation Ward. He read every paper Jack and Maddie Fenton ever published and watched every interview. Bruce knew this was a possibility, yet he carelessly let this happen to another child.

Tim pulled Danny close to him. Moving as carefully as he could, he hooked an arm under Danny’s knees and another behind Danny’s back. Danny let out a drawn-out pained whine and Tim’s heart shattered. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying my best.”

Flash zipped in front of Tim and held out his arms. “I can get him to the med bay faster.” Tim tightened his grip on Danny for a moment. As stupid as it was, Tim didn’t want to risk letting Danny out of his sight. Except Danny needed help more than Tim needed to soothe his anxiety. So Tim handed Danny over. Between one blink and the next, the Flash was gone. Tim dashed for the door. Ducking under Superman’s arms to squeeze through the small gap, Tim made it past the wall of heroes and a cursing Jason to run after Flash and Danny. It took a hot minute, but Superman and Black Canary managed to talk Red Hood down enough so that the rest of the group could follow Flash as well.

Stabilizing Danny was no small feat. Danny immediately went into surgery. He’d lost a lot of blood. The halfa’s naturally slower heart rate and fast healing worked to his advantage, but only just. They stitched him up as best and as quickly as they could, only for the rest of Team Phantom to arrive and tell the surgery team that regular stitches didn’t work on Danny. His body corroded them away, even in human form. The surgeons had to redo everything with the Fenton Fishing Line that they brought. Thankfully, despite it all, the surgery team managed to save Danny’s life.

Danny spent the next week in the hospital, floating in and out of consciousness. Pain medication worked, but it ran through his system too quickly to be effective for long. Tim and Jason stayed by his side the entire time. Black Canary brought them food and tried to encourage them to talk to her, but they took the food and ignored everything else. Batman came and went. Sometimes he spent only a few minutes with Danny. Others, a few hours to debrief Jason and Tim about the ongoing investigation.

The Guys in White were still a government entity. For as secret, corrupt, and morally bankrupt as it was, the Justice League couldn’t move on the organization right away. But they were working on it. And well, if that particular location suffered from a sudden data breach and the labs were mysteriously destroyed then oh well. Unfortunately, the GIW Agents were mostly cleared out by then so it was a hollow victory at best. Charging Danny’s parents for what they did to Danny was equally fruitless as the only evidence they had would out Danny’s secret. But both Tim and Bruce were petty enough to target their OSHA violation of a house as a decent warmup.

Jazz, Sam, and Tucker all stayed with Danny as long as they could. But between their lack of clearance, Sam and Tucker’s parents, and school, none of them were allowed back after the first day. However, Nightwing stopped by every day after school to give them all updates and check in on them. Jazz especially. Sam’s parents were kind enough to let Jazz stay with them as Jazz both refused to go anywhere near her parents and they were all worried about what might happen if her parents decided she was a ghost too. It’d happened before.

Whenever Nightwing visited, he littered the kids with as many questions as they could handle. While they didn’t tell Nightwing everything, they did spill the beans about the Guys In White, Vlad, and Fenton Works. That included the portal to the Ghost Zone in the basement and its role in giving Danny ghost powers. They sort of had to include that last part considering it was in Danny’s medical file. Constantine blew a gasket when Nightwing told him.

Beyond shutting down Fenton Works, the Justice League tried to come down hard on Jack and Maddie. Almost everything in Fenton Works was a violation of one law or another. Unlike the GIW, they didn’t have government protection. At least, not at first. By day two GIW lawyers started stonewalling the League long enough for Danny’s parents to go to ground.

Needless to say, everyone spent the week Danny remained unconscious unsuccessfully busy and horrifically stressed.

Waking up sucked. Everything hurt so bad that even Danny’s hurts hurt. The annoying beeping of monitoring machines continued on, tracking his vitals like the GIW wanted. Just more data for the sick experiments. Danny didn’t want to wake up. He didn’t want to face another day of torment and pain. All Danny wanted was to be back in his own bed under the glow-in-the-dark stars he stuck to the ceiling as a little kid. Except… he was in a bed. More than that, someone held his hand. He felt something too. Another presence. A ghost? No. Not quite.

Red Hood.

Daring to crack one eye open, Danny saw Red Hood snoozing in a folding chair. Only, he didn’t have his usual red helmet on. A domino mask like the one the Robins wore covered his eyes. Danny got to see his other features for the first time. Namely, a shock of white hair among a sea of black and a surprisingly young face. Why didn’t that surprise Danny? But if Red Hood was over there… who held Danny’s hand?

Grunting, Danny managed to turn his head to find none other than Red Robin. Oh. Oh wow. The guy looked like shit. His face was gaunt. His lips were cracked and dry. His hair went every which way. Not oily, so he was at least taking showers, but Red Robin clearly didn’t bother to style it. Even so, he smiled at Danny and gently squeezed Danny’s hand. Danny squeezed back. Both of them blushed, but neither made to move their hands. “Hey.” Red Robin cleared his throat. “Welcome back.”

“Welcome… back?” Talking hurt way too much and in doing so Danny became aware of how thirsty he was.

Tim chuckled and got to his feet. He reluctantly let go of Danny’s hand and headed to what Danny realized was a window covered in blinds. Smiling sadly, Tim pulled back the curtain to reveal the Earth floating far below them. Danny’s breath caught in his throat. “I made sure you got a room with a nice view. That and your sister said it would help you recover faster. Something about obsessions?”

Danny chuckled and instantly regretted all his life choices. The subsequent pained whine woke Jason up. One of Hood’s hands immediately flew to the gun on his hip. Bruce took the one with real bullets, but rubber bullets could be just as lethal if he aimed them right. Even if he didn’t they still hurt like a motherfucker. Only, there wasn’t anyone to shoot. Relaxing, Jason let go of his gun and smiled sadly at Danny. “Heya, Spooks.”

It wasn’t the first time Red Hood called him that. Danny initially tried to get Hood to stop, but that only made Hood more determined to use it. In the end, Danny surrendered. As far as nicknames went, he’d had a lot worse. That and Danny knew exactly how to make Hood regret the nickname.

“Hey. You guys got me out?” Red Hood and Red Robin nodded. “Thanks. Sorry if I spooked you.” Both the Reds groaned. Jason liked death jokes, but only if they didn’t come as bad puns. He was classier than that. Danny chuckled and only mostly regretted it this time. A little pain (well, a lot actually) was worth subjecting the heroes to his puns.

“Alright.” Jason slapped his knees and stood. “Now that you’re not gonna die the rest of the way, I’m out. Text me when you recover. If you don’t, I will hunt you down.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be ghoul and remember.” Jason slamming the door made Danny grin like the gremlin he was. Meanwhile, Tim eyed Danny’s IV. Specifically the pain meds. How much could he safely add to instantly knock Danny out again? “So… how bad is it?”

Danny looked so small in his hospital bed. His hair was worse than Tim’s and oily from the lack of a bath. All kinds of leads and wires stuck out from under his hospital gown to connect him to various monitoring machines. Most of his wounds had healed, but several stuck around. Especially the one on his chest. It was too large and too deep for Danny’s advanced healing to handle quickly. That’s not even taking into account his other cuts, bruises, and broken bones.

“Bad,” Tim said, his tone full of regret. He went back to his chair and sat down, his head hung low. “I’m so sorry, Danny. I’m so, so sorry. I should have never pushed you to tell them.”

“It’s not your fault.” Danny let his head fall to the side so it was easier to look at Red Robin. “I… you’re right. They would have found out eventually. This way… at least this way it wasn’t by surprise. I just… I thought… I wanted them to…” Tears spilled down Danny’s cheeks. He tried hard to keep himself together. But he started to sniffle and hiccup, which only sent blinding pain down his chest and made Danny cry harder. Tim threw his arms around Danny, hugging the ghost boy tight.

“You’re safe now. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

“It’s not fair,” Danny sobbed. He couldn’t hold it in anymore. The physical pain didn’t come anywhere close to how the shards of his heart tore through his soul. “T-they accepted me b-before. After I saved them. Why not this time? H-how did I screw up so badly? I-I couldn’t… I couldn’t even do the one thing you told me to do and use that stupid beacon. A-and now I can’t go home. People are dead because of me! It’s all my fault. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t want to become a god. B-but now, because I couldn’t even die right, I’ve ruined everything! I’m worse than a freak. I’m a monster-”

“No!” Tim held Danny tighter, rocking the other boy in his arms as tears slipped past his domino. “You’re not a monster. Or a freak. You’re a hero and they’re too blinded by their own bullshit to see that. None of this is your fault. You did nothing wrong.” Tim choked on his words and pressed his temple to Danny’s, trying to will Danny to understand all the wonderful things Tim saw in him. How strong and beautiful Danny was. How much Tim admired Danny for fighting practically on his own despite everything he’d been through.

Danny had every reason to fear Bat intervention. Because now that the Bats were in his life, it completely fell apart. Yet, instead of blaming Red Robin like he should (or so Tim believed), Danny blamed himself. Guilt and grief wrecked them both and they clung to one another, holding each other tight in the hopes that neither of them would crumble.

Danny and Tim stayed like that until a knock on the door forced them to separate. Red Robin wiped his own wet cheek, careful not to disturb his mask. Danny wanted to do the same and wipe Red Robin’s tears away too, but his arms were heavy and he didn’t want to brave the pain that’d inevitably come with it. Taking a shuddering breath, Danny said, “Come in.” After a brief pause Batman and Constantine entered.

Constantine only took a few steps inside before he stopped and waved awkwardly. “Hey, lad. You’re a sight for sore eyes. I’d ask how you’re feeling but we all know the answer to that so I’ll crack on and get out of your hair. I finished the spell.” Batman approached the bed and pulled out two packages from under his cloak. The first and smaller one he handed to Red Robin. Curious, Danny nodded and Red Robin opened the package. Inside was a simple black band made out of high-quality leather. It had a metal faceplate on top with silver lettering that read NASA. Danny’s jaw dropped.

“Figured I’d stick on something you’d actually wear. The band’s magically reinforced too so it should be damn hard to break. So long as you wear that you will be practically untraceable and practically unsummonable.” Danny raised a brow at that. “I say practically cus I left a little magical loophole that’ll allow me or Zatanna to do it with a modified summoning spell. One that’s more sanitary and doesn’t require a whole lot of chalk to draw. Should hurt less too. That and it’s impossible to completely hide a god’s aura.” Danny opened his mouth to argue the good point but decided to close it instead. He was too tired to fight. “Now, you take that off, break it, or lose it then all bets are off. So don’t do any of that shite. Got it?” Danny nodded. “Good. Now if you need me, don’t.”

With a wave of his hand, Constantine opened a portal to what looked and sounded like a pub. Constantine needed to drown himself after the heart attack that was Danny’s summoning, his kidnapping, and subsequently finding out that his idiot parents made a door to the GOD-DAMNED INFINITE REALMS in their basement! No wonder Amity Park was so badly haunted and felt like death warmed over. Constantine seriously debated quitting. He almost did. Except that meant leaving everything occult to the Justice League unsupervised. In short, retirement wasn’t an option. “Bartender,” Constantine called as he stepped through and the portal closed behind him.

Tim fiddled with the band to adjust it and with Danny’s permission he slipped it onto Danny’s wrist where it settled perfectly. “What’s the other thing,” Danny asked as he nodded to the larger package. This one Batman opened. From within, Batman pulled out a large file with Danny’s name on it.

“Supplies. Paperwork for a new identity and a credit card to help you get started.” The remains of Danny’s heart sank as the reality of his parents’ betrayal continued to break him. Tears welled up in Danny’s eyes. Batman, who normally wore the same stoic and somewhat scary expression looked heartbroken. He moved closer and set a hand on Danny’s leg. Red Robin looked like he was ready to murder Batman for dumping this on Danny so soon. Batman ignored him. “Danny,” Bruce said, his voice soft and tone unsure. “I know you’re going through a lot right now and it’s a lot to take in. But at the rate that you’re healing, the doctor thinks you can leave in a few days and you can’t stay here in the Watchtower. If you want, I can get you and your sister an apartment in Amity Park or you can move into the one Red Hood gave you.” Of course, Batman knew about that. Danny shouldn’t be surprised, but he was.

“Or… if you want…” Oh shit. Tim knew exactly where this was going. “I’ve got enough room for you and your sister. I prepared an identity for her as well, just in case. We can get you both transferred into a school in Gotham with good report cards to help you both get a strong and fresh start. You don’t…” Batman patted Danny’s leg. “You have a few days to decide what you want to do and you can always change your mind. But no matter what, know that you and your sister will be taken care of. The only thing you two need to do is focus on healing and getting good grades.”

“I knew he was a code Robin,” Tim mumbled. Bruce shot Tim a warning look while Danny blinked in confusion.

“A what?”

Tim ignored the question and leaned over because there was something else in the big box. The second Tim saw it he burst out laughing and snatched it before Bruce could hide the package. Tim held up a sleeker version of a utility belt. It was the same silver as Danny’s boots and gloves in ghost form. The buckle was engraved with Danny’s logo smack dab in the middle of a bat. Tim broke out into hysterics and snapped a picture of it. Danny’s jaw dropped. Pushing past the pain, he reached up to take the belt. Danny held it so that the logo faced up, cradling it carefully as if it were made of sand and could slip away at any moment.

Still howling with laughter, Tim got up and sent the picture to the Bats and Birds group chat. His phone exploded with a barrage of texts. Smiling, Tim leaned against the wall and let Bruce do what he did best, adopt black-haired blue-eyed kids with a penchant for crime fighting. And his sister too.

Chapter Text

“Relax, Danny.” Tim put his hand on Danny’s shoulder as Danny fiddled with his new belt for the thousandth time. They were still stuck in the Bat Cave thanks to Danny's nerves. “They’re gonna love you.”

“Yeah but, what if-”

Tim rolled his eyes. He didn’t have his domino on yet so Danny got the full sarcastic effect. “Trust me, ghosts are far from the weirdest thing any of us have seen or befriended. Half ghosts too, but they don’t need to know that yet. And even if they did, they’d still like you.”

“Befriending ghosts… What about dating ghosts?” Danny sneakily glanced up in time to see Tim’s entire face turn bright red. Tim stuttered and stumbled over his words. Smiling, Danny placed a kiss on Tim’s cheek, earning a half-hearted grumble.

“Are you even nervous or did you do that just to tease me?” Damn, Tim was adorable when he pouted.

“Oh, I’m nervous enough for it to kill me the rest of the way.” Danny went back to fiddling with his belt. Initially, it took a few tries before his ghost form accepted the belt, and that was only after Danny started feeling comfortable enough to not apologize every time he entered an occupied room in Wayne Manor.

Those first few weeks were nothing but nightmares, anxiety, and jumping at shadows for Danny. It sucked. A lot. He felt like an intruder. Doubly so since Danny turned down the adoption offer. With everything Bruce did to help him and Jazz, Danny felt like a bum and a burden to the Wayne Family. Not that anyone else saw Danny that way. Especially since his and Tim’s budding relationship seemed to be a constant source of entertainment. Danny swore he overheard Dick and Babs discussing a betting pool on who would propose to who.

Danny’s twice-a-week therapy sessions with Black Canary made the transition to Gotham a little easier. Jazz and Tim too. They still needed to work up to unpacking everything that happened, both recently and from before the summoning, but Danny made some progress. Phantom went out on patrol with Red Robin now! Baby steps! After waking up screaming for the first time from a nightmare, Tim spent many nights cuddling next to Danny. Cass and Steph did something similar with Jazz, though theirs took the form of sleepovers.

Dani stopped by once after they filled her in on the situation and seeing her again was a breath of fresh air. Although, like always, she didn’t stick around for very long. At least she promised to try and visit more often. Sam and Tucker visited as well, though it was a lot harder for them to come visit with any regularity. But hey, Danny still had game nights with them!

It took time, but as promised, Batman and the rest of the Justice League ruthlessly dismantled the GIW and the Anti-Ecto Acts. Every agent they could find was sentenced to several lifetimes in prison. They didn’t catch everyone. Jason and the Outlaws still needed to track down the rest. A task Jason volunteered for with terrifying enthusiasm. Tim admitted quietly one night that he so thoroughly destroyed all of the GIW agents’ credit scores, social security, and bank accounts that it’d be a wonder if any of them could afford a toothpick without an alias for the next ten years. Danny wasn’t sure if he found that scary, hilarious, hot, or a combination of all three.

Once the acts were rescinded, Danny’s parents also had their day in court and were sentenced to prison. Despite everything that happened, that still hurt. Danny and Jazz sobbed when the conviction went through. It hurt. It hurt so goddamn much. Because those were still their parents. Some part of Danny and Jazz still loved them. It wasn’t fair, but it was right. Eventually, the Fenton children would be alright too. Then again, Jazz wasn’t a Fenton anymore. Shortly after that ruling she officially became Jasmine Wayne. Danny… decided to hold off on the whole Wayne adoption thing. There was another route he wanted to take to get the Wayne family name… even if said route took a few years.

“Your belt is fine,” Tim huffed and swatted Danny’s hands away. “Now c’mere and let me get the mask on you.”

“Do I really need to wear the mask? I mean, I went two years-”

“Yes,” Tim cut Danny off. He stepped back to take in his boyfriend with a critical and appreciative eye. After beginning his Bat Training, Danny’s outfit gradually started to change. A silver streak ran up the outside seam of his calves and stopped halfway up his torso. The silver along his neck widened to expand towards his shoulders. His gloves now looked more like gauntlets. Tim wondered if they’d develop technological capabilities. If he looked close enough, he swore he saw the slight impressions of an interface. Phantom still had his sigil on his chest, but now it looked exactly like the one on his utility belt, bat and all. The black domino completed Danny’s look.

Tim gave an approving nod and put his own mask on. “C’mon, Phantom. It’s time to meet Young Justice.”