Archive of Our Own

Many people look at space with fear or reverence, hope or dismay, helplessness or uncanniness, or some mix of feelings that just can't be explained. It has inspired humanity for as long as we have been able to dream. Those bright, burning, balls of light used to guide our way. They were the basis for our Gods, stories and civilisations rose and fell with their ever present glow.

Without us looking up into the night sky, we may never have been motivated to advance as far as we have. So much of what humanity has accomplished, has been done with the aim of making it to space, of reaching out into the stars and seeing if we are alone. Galileo's first illustrations of Jupiter and it's moons, a beautiful blend of science and art, still motivate many in the scientific community today.

When NASA sent three astronauts up to our moon for the first time, the world held its breath. Two stepped onto the surface of that beautiful ball of rock, unsure if they would ever leave it. The faith that they had in the engineers and scientists that had created their rockets was high, but there was every chance that things would go wrong. That their fellow astronaut still in the main rocket, circling the dark side of the moon, cut off from them and Earth, would have something terrible happen. Or that their little rocket wouldn't be able to make it back to the main ship, and he would be left watching, unable to help and forced to return to Earth alone.

But everything went right. NASA succeeded, and humans touched the stars.

It wasn't the last space expedition, nor was it the most impactful scientifically, but it is one of the most well remembered.

There was a plaque, inside the Justice League's Watchtower, that outlined the history of space travel. It showed how they got to the point that they did. How they went from staring at the stars, dreaming of distant worlds, to being able to put massive space stations in the Earth's orbit. There were other plaques, giving the histories of some of the other species that made up the League's own space travel exploits (like the lanterns and the foundation of their corps, or the martians and their reluctance to establish contact with anyone). But Tim always found himself drawn to the one about Earth, about humanity.

When he first started coming up to the tower with Bruce (back when Bruce was big, and scary, and larger than life itself, but also still broken, and healing, and grieving a lost son), Tim became fascinated with space, with the technology and history behind the tower and all the other stations like it, with the idea that something so massive could make it's way off Earth and then just, exist.

He read hundreds of books that summer, with access to his parents and Bruce's collections, and the library whenever he went, not to mention the internet and hours upon hours unsupervised in a cold, empty, house.

He liked to imagine that space, despite also being cold, and empty, and vast, would be more alive than the halls of Drake manor, simple because of everything out there. He liked to imagine that, knowing what he did about the other species all across the galaxy, that somewhere out there, something would be able to hear him. That no matter where he might end up he wouldn't be alone, not really, amongst the stars.

When Tim was Robin he would go to the Watchtower with Batman in the zeta tubes. They would travel almost instantly from their position on Earth to the infinite clutches of space, held in place only by the mechanics of Earth's long, long history of reaching for the stars. Tim knew he was lucky, that most people couldn't dream of having access to the opportunities he did. That most people, if they where ever lucky enough to travel to space, would have to go the long way. In a big, metal contraption, more fuel than anything else, forcing its way through Earth's atmosphere with an explosion that could, at any instant, go wrong and end in a ball of flames.

But sometimes, even as he got older and left Robin behind, even as he travelled through space with various teams and utilised the resources he had to do so in ways only very few could, he wished he could go to space like a proper astronaut.

One of the books he read, back when he was Timothy Jackson Drake, the third Robin, forcing Batman into letting him follow the man around Gotham in the night, sitting alone in Drake manor in the day, told the story the Columbia space shuttle through the lens of those on the International Space Station at the time. Seven astronauts went into space for 16 days, conducting research and experiments, talking to those on the ground and on station. One of the men on board played chess via the radio with another man on station. One of the men was a former acrobat (just like Dick). All seven died on reentering Earths atmosphere. Burning up before they could make it home. And the three men on the ISS, who had known and been friends with those seven, knew that they would be stuck up in space for far longer than they had planned.

They were only meant to be up there for 4 months but stayed for 6. Alone and isolated aside from each other, not knowing when they would be able to come back down to Earth in the wake of such tragedy.

It was a sad and confronting account of the events that happened, but it was also inspiring, and it stuck with Tim. There were two lines, in the first thirty pages, where the author described the process of lift off. The people involved, the calculations that went into it all, the lead up and the suspense, as any one thing could go wrong and cancel the whole thing. As the astronauts sit and listen to the countdown, strapped into what could become their coffin, he wrote:

"Countdown, they had come to understand, is one long letting go. It's a goodbye filled with lingering until finally it's too late to turn back."

Tim sometimes wished he could experience a proper space launch, if only to feel like he had people who cared enough to linger, before they let him go.

Even years later, after being so many things (Robin, Drake, Red Robin, CFO and CEO, on and on and on) and meeting so many people (the Justice League, Young Justice, assassins and informants, business partners and rivals, thousands of people all wanting to listen to his words and shake his hand) he still sometimes felt so alone. So unknown.

Bart asked once, after a mission when things had gotten just a little too close for comfort (Kon had been hit and Cassie had been brought down, Tim had a concussion and a few cracked ribs, and Bart himself was still steaming from the speed force he'd used hours later) what it meant to be alone versus lonely. It made sense for him to ask - the mission had started because a child had been left alone, had bonded with an artifact that felt lonely, and everything had just gotten out of hand from there.

"Like, I get that you can be alone but not feel lonely, and lonely but not alone, but I don't get what the difference is? Why was it so important to the thing that the kid was alone and lonely? Surely they're not that separate?!" He threw his hands up in frustration. The artifact had lain dormant for years before this kid stumbled across it, giving them power that they couldn't hope to control, and no way to stop the artifact from taking advantage of their vulnerable state.

"I think it's… less the physical and more the emotional?" Kon tried. "Like as long as you don't feel lonely you won't be alone? Maybe?"

"Hmm…. I think that's kinda it," Cassie nudged Tim's shoulder with her foot. "What say you boy genius?"

"I think…" Tim took a second, head pounding behind tinted glasses gifted from Cassie, ribs wrapped under a shirt he stole from Bart, Kon's jacket on his lap. "I think it's about being known. As long as you feel known by someone, then even when you're alone, you won't feel lonely."

The others looked at him for a second before smiling and agreeing, moving on to other things and letting the conversation pass. But Tim held onto it, just a little. A small part of him hoarded that moment, that discussion of being known with the ones that he felt knew him most.

Even later, after Kon died, and Bart dipped too far into the time stream, and Tim fell out with Cassie, he still cared about them, still felt he knew them. He let that soothe him when he was alone, hunting ghost stories and losing organs, being a mad scientist and a murderer.

His family might have thought he was crazy, were maybe right, but he still loved them, even if they didn't know him, not like his team did. Even if most of them tried to kill him, and he never felt like he belonged, he still loved them.

Time passed, and the family came back together and grew, and Kon and Bart came back and the team healed, and Tim grew up and continued working.

He was almost never alone. There was always someone, no matter if he was being a hero or a civilian, with him. Needing him. Needing his knowledge and experience and time and space. He alternated between being Tim Drake-Wayne and being Red Robin (or sometimes Batman as the need came up) but sometimes neither felt like him. They felt like masks that very few people could see behind.

So, it wasn't all that out of the ordinary for Tim to stop and reread the little plaque on the Watchtower when he had a spare minute. He liked to stop and read the plaque, remember all those books he read as a kid, fascinated with space and the fortune he had to be up there in the stars so often. How he could never be alone with so much life in the universe (though he definitely could be lonely).

The plaque was actually in one of the many viewing galleries on the station. The view changed as the tower rotated and drifted in Earths orbit, sometimes showing Earth, sometimes the moon, and sometimes just endless stars. Currently, as Tim drank his coffee and looked out the thick glass keeping him safe, it was just the ever present stars keeping him company. He thought he could make out Jupiter and its many moons, just faintly in the distance, locked in their ever present dance.

His coffee was actually cold by that point, he'd made it at the start of a meeting hours ago and then hadn't been able to drink it, but caffeine was caffeine and he needed the energy cause he had another in 20 minutes.

"Hey Red!"

Tim turned to look at who was calling him, and held in a sigh at the sight of John Constantine. The man was honestly a mystery, if only due to the fact that he was somehow still alive, despite all signs pointing him to an early grave.

(Most heroes just called him Red these days, or Rob if they new him well enough. Tim was thinking of changing his moniker, he was heading towards his late 20s now so it felt like time, but he'd been Red Robin for so long now he just couldn't think of what to change it to. Kon kept texting him the names of different bird species he could try, currently he was suggesting different types of Owls which… not great given the whole Court and Talon thing.)

Constantine looked haggard, and Tim wasn't concerned by that on it's own (the man usually looked a stiff wind away from being knocked over and 2 days past needing a shower), but he was also carrying a very large, glowing, book which was a little concerning.

"John," Tim knocked back the last of his coffee before giving the man his full attention proper. "What's the issue?"

"Red, you know you're my favourite bat right? Like, you're all creepy bastards, and Spooks is the worst of you all, but I'm glad you're the one up 'ere right now cause I don't want to imagine having to deal with 'em. Especially the little one, he's still far too excited about knives in my opinion…" John trailed off, eyes drifting for a moment before he snapped back into himself and looked at Tim again. "Right! I think there's a ghost in space!"

"…a ghost?"

"In space," John nodded enthusiastically, as if the space part had been the main issue. "I've been tracking it for a while and this is the first time its come into our system in years! I can't see it on any of the telescopes but it comes up on thermal scans cause it's so much colder than actual space."

That… shouldn't make sense. Space is the absence of things. There's hardly any atoms or molecules to retain heat, so it's typically considered to rest at just above absolute zero. Which meant whatever Constantine was tracking was clocking in at LESS than absolute zero.

"John," Tim looked at the man, the still glowing book in his hand (which Tim now recognised as one of the few books on ghosts the JL Dark had), out the window at the stars surrounding them (Jupiter still a speck in the distance, uncaring for the drama of a planet so far away from itself), then back at John. "What do you want me to do about this? It's a ghost right? Have you called Deadman?"

Deadman, Boston Brand, was Constantine's primary contact with ghosts. Tim had met him a few times, usually when he went to the House of Mystery that John lived in and the ghost was hanging out. He didn't spend a lot of time with other undead, as far as Tim knew, preferring to stay in the world of the living (something about being made from magic, too different from 'natural' ghosts). But he still had connections and would sometimes let them know of things going on.

Tim, personally, didn't know a lot about ghosts. He knew more than most people, but that was more due to his obsessive research binges than any actual need to. He knew Deadman, and once upon a time Secret had been on his team (before she was revived as a human again, but even as a ghost she hadn't said anything about other ghosts), so he had taken the time to research them. But aside from the general stuff that Constantine and Zatara had put together for the Justice League Light to read, and the books he'd stolen from John with vague information about another realm and powerful beings (not all ghosts were the living turned dead, some just where), he didn't have any special knowledge.

Which made it all the more suspicious that John was coming to him regarding his space ghost, and not Deadman.

"No, I uh… he's thinking about living more full time on the other side so I'm trying to give him his space, ya know? Let him decide himself and all that jazz. He ain't a normal ghost but apparently he could be more at rest o'er there than he is 'ere."

John genuinely looked sad about it and Tim couldn't help but put a comforting hand on the mans shoulder. Once upon a time, he would have had to reach up to do this, but now that Tim's grown they're about the same height (he's the shortest of the boys in the family, even Damian has overtaken him now, but he's not upset about it. It's not like Tim's short, it's just that they're all giants. He's usually one of the taller people in a room if none of them are around). The brit smiled in thanks, but quickly shook off the emotion, back on task.

"So no, no Boston. But! That's why I have this!" He held up the book, showing Tim a page with a large circle filling it. "It's not a full summoning, it's just a signal of sorts? So it won't force the entity here, but it'll be like a beacon, so that if it want's to come say hi, or if it wants to avoid us, it can!"

"That doesn't seem like a great idea John. What if it's aggressive? We don't have many magic users on right now, we won't be able to fight it if it attacks."

John waved a hand dismissively and Tim couldn't help but feel like he was being forced to watch a c-tier movie play out. A poorly made comedy of errors that's one step away from becoming a horror. He could probably stop it, hit pause and change the genre before its too late. But he was also kind of curious to see what would happen if John continued his plan.

He maybe should have had a nap before coming up. When was the last time he slept?

"Anyway, come with me. I already set up the circle I just need someone else to anchor the spell with me and you're the best choice on the tower right now. I wanna do this before Zatanna gets back."

Oh, Tim should definitely stop him if John was saying shit like that. It never ended well when John hid stuff from Zatanna, mainly because she was most of his impulse control.

Instead of stopping Constantine and his never ending cycle of poor decisions, Tim allowed himself to be dragged into a conference room. The table was pushed to the side, a large chalk circle filled with symbols on the floor. Tim could probably read it, if he had an hour and another 3 shots of coffee, but currently he didn't care to try, just moved to the spot John pointed at and resigned himself to writing a report about how this inevitably went wrong later.

The spell didn't take long, and Tim didn't have to do much of anything. John spent five minutes chanting in Latin, used a drop of Tim's blood to mark the circle, and when the lights died down he smiled happily at Tim as if all was right with the world. Tim seriously doubted that, but now he needed to go get a band-aid (and maybe another tetanus shot, seriously when was the last time John cleaned that knife) because he hadn't been expecting the surprise stabbing.

"So why exactly was I needed for this John? You couldn't use your own blood?"

John laughed but handed him a napkin from one of his many pockets. "Nah, I've got too much crap on me soul to be doing this sorta thing. It'd definitely come check us out if I did it, just to get a piece o' me! But you're clean-ish and a moral guy so definitely a step up from myself!"

John clapped him on the back and Tim couldn't help but think the man was widely overestimating Tim's… everything, but didn't have the heart to tell him that. Instead he just took the napkin, wrapped his finger, and gave John a nod as he walked out of the room.

"You better clean that up soon, or B's gunna dock you the cleaning fee again."

Tim closed the door on John's loud groan, chuckling as he left. He could probably still make that meeting he was scheduled for with… someone. One of the newer heroes?

Eh, he should probably just use Constantine as an excuse and go take a nap somewhere.

Tim used his various skills as a Gotham-raised bat to make it to his preferred hide-away without running into anyone (also known as hiding in the vents until people passed by - suck it Jason, those stupid broad shoulders could never fit here). It was a small closet-room with a window outside of the station. Bart had snuck bedding materials up ages ago, stashing it in the room for when one of them needed a nap (or, more often, for when they thought Tim needed a nap).

The window was significantly smaller than the one on the viewing deck, but Tim appreciated it all the same. He set his alarm and settled in, letting his eyes close behind his domino under the ever-present stars.

///

When he woke up it wasn't to his alarm but the feeling of being watched. Paranoia made Tim continue feigning sleep, opening his hidden eyes but keeping his body relaxed while he looked around the small space. It was dark and empty, no one else but Tim, and the door didn't look like it had been opened since he'd entered however long ago (not long enough to trigger his alarm so… only a few hours then).

Tim waited to see if the feeling would leave, but it didn't. He could feel whatever was watching him like pinpricks on the back of his neck. But it didn't feel aggressive. (Tim had a lot of experience being watched by people and things that wanted to hurt him. This wasn't that.)

Yes, it was strong. And powerful. And probably stalking him intently for him to have noticed even in his sleep. But it didn't seem to have any ill intentions. Maybe. Hopefully.

He kept himself still, trying to decide if he should 'wake up', looking at the barely visible wall in front of him as he did, straining his eyes in the dark of the room. And then he remembered.

'This room shouldn't be dark.'

The wall he was facing was directly across from the window out into space. This room, and that wall especially, should never look 'dark'. No matter what direction the watchtower was facing, there should always be light from at least one star shining inside. So how the hell was it dark?

Tim took a moment to steady himself, before rolling over, keeping his movement loose to pretend he was simply moving in his sleep.

'Oh I am going to KILL John Constantine.'

There, outside the window (and therefore INSIDE SPACE), was a creature. It was floating in the view of his window, looking around curiously.

It was pitch black, so dark it looked like it was stealing what little light should be around it. As Tim watched, the darkness swirled with small pinpricks of light and colour, like galaxies forming and drifting away. It was beautiful and ethereal. It's body was almost humanoid, if you ignored the tail instead of legs and the length of its body/limbs. It's eyes (or what Tim assumed were it's eyes) were an icy blue, large, piercing and bright against the stark black that make up the rest of it. It was hard to tell where exactly it was looking, given it had no pupils, but Tim could feel when they were focused on him versus the rest of the Watchtower.

It kept creeping closer, hesitantly, like it was worried something would happen if it got too close. Tim was amazed that alarms weren't going off on the station with its proximity. Surely it was close enough that someone else had noticed it by now. It was massive! It was hard to tell the scale of it when there was nothing to scale it too outside.

It was close, but close was relative at the moment. Just because it was taking up majority of the window and blocking out the stars didn't mean it was actually close to the tower. It could have been the same size as the tower, and if it was far enough away he wouldn't be able to tell until it got closer.

And it was getting closer, he could see more details with the passing minutes. But it also seemed to be staying the same size? Like it was shrinking to match the tower as it drifted near.

Tim watched calmly for few minutes. Should he be worried? Maybe. Would B chew him out for not raising the alarms later? Definitely. Was he going to do anything?

… probably not. This was interesting. Besides, it wasn't everyday Tim got to meet a ghost! (Aside from Deadman, obviously, but he didn't really count, being a coworker and all).

'That's assuming this is the ghost that John mentioned earlier.'

The likelihood of it being anything else was too low for Tim to really bother considering. (Not that he would discount the possibility entirely, he was a bat after-all).

Eventually, after what felt like 10 minutes or so, the ghost (he was sticking with that until told otherwise) came close enough that Tim could see it was within touching distance of the tower. It had definitely been shrinking itself as it came closer, because while it was still in his windows view, it wasn't just a tiny part of it Tim could see (as would be the case if it had stayed the same size).

It seemed focused on Tim, though curious about the tower as a whole. It kept looking around with wide eyes, reaching a clawed hand out to touch before pulling back like it decided better and looking at Tim instead.

'Probably because John used my blood for the… beacon-thing earlier,' he internally grumbled to himself.

After a long minute of watching the ghost (close enough that Tim could make out a constellation of freckles smattering through the darkness, long pointed ears, and a flowing halo of hair that he had thought was a light distortion when it was further away because of how bright it was compared to the rest of it) he decided to feign waking up. He casually stretched out his arms, opening his mouth widely and shaking himself as he 'woke'.

The ghost startled and flinched back slightly, eyes wide and worried. And, shit, it was probably going to run off now that he was up. Tim turned his head more directly to the window, making a show of seeing the ghost.

It stopped completely, even its floating hair froze like it was holding its breath. Tim tilted his head like he was studying it, and couldn't help but smile when it mimicked him. It wasn't intentional! The ghost just looked so cute! With it's big, blue eyes and lanky body, tilting its head like a curious bird. Clearly, smiling was a good choice though, because it came closer again, almost right against the window.

Tim straightened, smiling more widely in encouragement. He put one black-gloved hand up against the window, delighted when the ghost did the same. It's hand was larger than his, almost double the size, but as he watched it shrunk down to match his size more closely. Only the long claws peaked out over his own fingers. The glass was cold under Tim's palm, not abnormal for space, but the longer they rested hands against it the colder it became. Slowly, actual frost started spreading from the ghosts touch.

Tim moved closer, sitting up to kneel on the bedding and shifting his hand to the side slightly to see the frost better. The ghost watched him, moving it's head when he did. He moved closer, close enough to breathe on the window, causing it to fog from the difference in temperature, and carefully used his other hand to draw a simple smiley face in the condensation.

The ghost bobbed up and down, shoulders shaking like it was laughing out in space, and lifted it's other clawed hand to gently scrape its own smile into the ice on the other side of the glass.

Tim smiled and laughed with it. He was probably being stupid (and B would definitely be unhappy with him later for letting an unknown onto the station) but while the ghost was definitely powerful and could be a threat it was also… curious. And Tim didn't feel any bad intentions from it, just a calm interest. So, despite the voice that sounded suspiciously like Bruce in the back of his head saying this was a bad idea, Tim moved. He shuffled back slightly, standing up and keeping his arm stretched out to the window, before he beckoned the ghost inside.

The ghost froze for a second, eyes widening again, clearly debating if it would take up Tim's offer, before it slowly started drifting even closer. It's hand, still against the glass, was the first part to phase through. It was even colder without the glass between them. He briefly considered pulling away from the cold that emanated from the ghost, lowering his arm as it came inside. Instead he adjusted his hand so that their fingers interlocked, feeling as claws curled gently against the back of his hand, watching as the planets and stars breaking through the ghosts inky blackness pulsed brightly.

In a move that made Tim feel like he was staring in one of Jason's rom-coms, he and the ghost held hands as it drifted through the tower, leaving space behind.

And then they just… stared at each other. The ghost's shape flickered as Tim stood watching it, the edges blurring and refocusing, as if it wasn't sure how to hold itself together.

After a moment Tim broke the silence, "Hi, I'm… Tim, or Red Robin. Human, he/him."

It felt wrong to not tell the ghost his real name, to hide behind the mask of Red Robin. What would the ghost benefit from knowing Tims name? It's not like it had anyone to tell. Dead-men tell no tales, or however the saying goes.

And given it was a ghost from space it felt appropriate to add his species and pronouns just in case.

The ghost made a deep warbling noise, the reverberations buzzing through Tim's body as it did.

"I'm sorry, I can't understand you. Should I try get a translator?" Tim moved away slightly, already planning to go to where he knew one was on this side of the tower.

The ghost moved with him, pulled along by their joined hands and let out a crackling noise, shaking its head as it did. Tim stilled and the ghost waved its free hand at him, making sure he was watching as it pointed at him, and then mimed covering his eyes by covering it's own.

He didn't move straight away, which seemed to annoy the ghost as it threw the hand back and let out a cracking huff instead. The huff changed to a kind of whistling noise as the ghost drifted closer, picking up Tims' free hand and lifting it up against the lens of his domino itself.

"Okay okay! I'll cover my eyes, sheesh," Tim huffed but covered his eyes more securely and nodded to the ghost. "Only just met and you're already so bossy. Is that normal or am I just special?"

Even with his eyes closed and covered he still jumped at the bright flash of light that filled the room. He could feel it when energy reached their joined hands, a mix of cold and static shock jolting his fingertips, only to be quickly swept away.

The hand holding his was suddenly more solid under his grip. The claws were still careful not to slice through his glove, but he could feel their weight more firmly against the back of his hand. The ghost still felt cold but it was different somehow. Less like the absence of heat, and more the addition of cold.

He shivered slightly and the ghost tried to pull away, but he held on and carefully moved his hand down from his face, waiting to see if the ghost would object before opening his eyes.

"No need for a translator, little starling," the ghost said, voice low and melodic, smiling and tilting its head shyly. "Just needed to change it up a bit."

And change it had. Tim had to hold himself back from gaping, could feel the back of his neck and his ears heating up a little as he looked at the ghost's new form. No longer was it a cloud of black, inky space, features vague and unclear. Now it was much more human-like, though still clearly other.

Black skin had changed to a blue tinted white, constellation freckles now a dark blue against the skin. It's eyes were still a bright, icy blue, but now they were framed by long white eyelashes, soft and delicate. And it's lips… They were a darker blue. On anyone else, Tim would be worried about them being hypothermic. On the ghost, Tim thought they suited it (and maybe wondered if they were as soft as they looked, or if he would freeze from the contact). It's hair had grown even longer, flowing in the windless room like it was underwater, stars weaved into it. Two horns, small and smooth looking, blue at the base and fading into white at the tips, raised from its forehead. It wore an armour chest plate, ornate and decorated but still practical, and a fur-lined cape swept from it's shoulders, the inside of which showed swirling galaxies (much like its previous form). Its ears were long and pointed, one had a dangling earing which looked like a floating galaxy hanging from it. Its claws and hands were still black, though they faded into the blue-grey skin midway down its long arms, almost like gloves. The tail was now a much lighter colour, a white, almost silver, that trailed behind it like a comet. Tim could swear it was letting off little snow-flakes as it moved, so similar to the trail of dust and ice a real comet tended to leave in its wake.

It was beautiful, in this form and the other. Tim wasn't sure what to do with the information. But he was a bat, and what was a bat good at if not compartmentalisation!

"It's nice to meet you," he smiled and squeezed the ghosts hand briefly. "What should I call you?"

"Danny," the ghost, Danny, said with a hum. "Or Nightingale. Either is fine. And dead, he/they."

The ghost winked at him and Tim couldn't help but laugh, which made Danny smile happily.

"Well, Danny," Tim lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to the back of Danny's knuckles, feeling his heart kick when the others cheeks blushed a dark blue. "Welcome to the Justice League Watchtower. Care for a tour?"

Danny's eyes lit up and he grinned widely, showing off sharp teeth in his excitement. "A tour of a space station! Count me in!"

///

Tim no longer wanted to kill John Constantine. It was hard to even care about the man when he was busy watching how happy Danny was. The ghost was so interested in everything about the base. He zipped from one thing to another, asking question after question without pausing for an answer. He was smart too, already knew most of the answers to his own questions (especially in regards to the engineering aspect of everything).

"I wanted to be an astronaut", "Oh, I basically grew up in a science lab", "Did you know they used this metal specifically for its conductivity?". He gave away tiny hints here and there, little things that Tim made note of and filed away.

What he had so far was:

• Danny used to be human before he died, and young at that (while he currently looked too different to determine an age, they were too familiar with human tech and slang to not be from a similar time and place as Tim himself… maybe he just spent a lot of time on Earth?)

• Danny had living family and friends, but all of them were… dead (some were ghosts? At least one sister was still around from how he talked about her, but Tim couldn't tell if she was alive or not)

• He was maybe from a different Earth to Tim (he didn't know who the Justice League were at all, and he mentioned some things that Tim didn't know about so… alternate Earth seemed the best fit)

• Danny loved space - every time they passed one of the viewing ports they stopped for at least ten minutes to look at the stars outside (and occasionally started slipping back into the more eldritch form Tim had first met) (he mentioned constellations that Tim was sure didn't exist, another point to the alternate Earth theory)

• Danny had a lot of powers - he had demonstrated at least 5 (and mentioned about 10 others in passing, with a comment that he forgot more of this powers than he remembered)

• This was partly due to them being a 'baby ancient', their own words not Tim's, and growing more and more all the time (Tim made a note to ask Constantine about what exactly an ancient was because Danny was not great at explaining things)

• Danny was never allowed to meet Dick (due to his insane liking of puns, Tim would not survive) or Steph (due to Tim's major crush on the ghost, Tim would not survive)

• And, finally, Danny was the best security threat Tim had ever met

Currently, they were in the same viewing room that Tim had been in hours ago, before Constantine had interrupted him and started this whole event. They had gone though the whole base pretty much, making use of Tim's skills and Danny's invisibility and intangibility to do so without interacting with any of the heroes currently up there.

Well, mostly. They did stop for a brief (2 hour) conversation with Martian Manhunter. Danny was super excited to meet 'an actual Martian!!' and had insisted they talk to the man. Luckily he hadn't been busy, or minded talking to Danny at length about his home and people. Tim was quietly glad that none of the Lanterns or Supers were on the Tower… or Kori (though she would probably love Danny. If only she weren't married to Dick, he'd consider introducing them).

They had made it back to Tim's favourite viewing area, sitting on the installed bench next to each other. Danny was holding his hand, happily pointing out the stars in view.

"That's Polaris, the North Star. From here it looks like one point of light, but its actually a triple star system! It has two smaller stars orbiting each other, but also in orbit with a larger third star. It's a part of the Ursa Minor constellation. The Ursa Major is just to the side of it! Mizar is one of the stars in that constellation - its a quadruple star system and also looks like a double star with Alcor, one of the fainter ones in the Ursa Major." Danny used his powers to put little lines of ice on the window in-front of them, connecting the stars and bringing the constellations into view. "Ursa Major and Minor mean greater and lesser bear, which I think is cute, the minor being the baby of the major. Some constellations have their own ghosts you know! These two don't yet but I've been keeping an eye out and I think they might develop soon. There's been more ectoplasm seeping out into space lately, probably because of all of the different species across dimensions travelling and thinning the barriers. Oh, and there's also Aquila…"

Tim wasn't fully understanding everything Danny was talking about but it didn't matter to him. Watching the ghost talk, lighting up in excitement, stars and snow drifting off of him gently, was captivating. Tim smiled softly, content to just exist in the ghosts presence.

Danny kept talking, explaining stars and constellations, right until someone cleared their throat behind them.

Danny jumped as he startled, floating in the air gently even as Tim tugged him back down again. He then turned to glare at the laughing John, who was completely unfazed by the ghosts unhappiness, walking towards them casually.

"Red! When I said I was making you a beacon for the ghost out in space I didn't mean you should invite it in for a date!" John was pretending to scold him, but the coughing fit that resulted from his laughter just made Tim role his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, whatever Constantine. You barely told me anything before doing the spell. If anything, this is your fault." He pointed at the man, who simply held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Oh no! Whatever shall I do?" he snorted and turned to Danny, inclining his head respectfully. "Pleasure to meet you, John Constantine."

"I know who you are," John and Tim both looked at him shocked, to which Danny just smiled sharply. "You've sold your soul that many times that there's going to be a tournament when you die for who gets it! Everyone knows about it. Some beings are even trying to get you to give them a piece just so they can join the fight."

"Do you-"

"Ew no, why would I want that. Soul deals are gross man."

Tim laughed at how offended John looked. The man started ranting about how it should be an honour to fight for his soul, that he was clearly a real hot commodity if there was going to be a whole tournament for it. Tim cut him off by reminding him that he was the one who said ghosts talked by fighting, so really it was just their version of a long legal debate.

Danny, the blessing that he was, changed the topic before John could get too perturbed about it. "So, did you need Red for something?"

"Oh right. I was in the communications room and saw that your team is all comin' up to drag you back to Earth or somethin' but I knew you were hanging out with ghosty 'ere, so figured I'd come give you a heads up."

Tim groaned, running a hand down his face. It wasn't as satisfying when wearing a domino, but he didn't really care, it was the principle of the thing.

"How long?"

"Ehhh… 'bout 5 minutes now, recon."

"John!"

"What! I got distracted by your ghost-friend 'ere! They're the one that mentioned the soul thing!"

"Well I'm not gunna be able to hide now, am I! What was even the point of warning me!"

Soft laughter distracted Tim from yelling at John, turning to look at Danny instead. The ghost was trying to muffle himself, shoulders shaking and tail lashing while he laughed happily at the heroes in front of him. Tim couldn't help but smile.

There was no reason for Tim to feel so… soft, for a being he just met. They had barely spent a few hours together, but already Tim felt like Danny was the most important person in the world. Bruce would say he was compromised, probably insist on checking for mind control or something. But they just… clicked. In a way Tim had never experienced before. Tim felt like Danny knew him. He could feel his smile soften into something ridiculously fond as he watched the ghost continue laughing happily.

"Annndddd I'm outta 'ere! Best of luck to ya Red, Ghosty. Glad to finally meet ya, have fun with explorin' space or whatever it is ya do," John saluted as he walked off, winking exaggeratedly at Tim before holding the door open.

And only closing it after he let in Tim's team. Traitor.

"Rob!!!!" Bart rushed ahead of the other two, grabbing Tims' arm and shaking him aggressively. "Kon promised to take me to that one fro-yo place but he lied."

The redhead wailed, collapsing to the floor dramatically in front of Tim, as if the lack of frozen yogurt was detrimental to his health. Tim sighed, looking over at Conner and Cassie, about to ask them about it until he saw they weren't paying him the slightest bit of attention. Instead, they were both clearly focused on the still laughing (if anything he was laughing more because of Bart's display) Danny beside him.

Bart, very attentive despite (or because of) his general everything from being a speedster, noticed that he wasn't getting the attention this type of act typically generated and actually looked at the room around them. When he spotted the ghost he jumped up and literally ran circles around them both.

"Oh my gods! Hi! Who is this! Robwhoisthis, canwebefriends, areyoualreadyfriends, whyaretheyfloatingandglowing, omgaretheyasuperorsomething, HIIMIMPULSEWHAT-"

Tim stuck a hand out, catching the back of Bart's collar with practised ease. Bart stopped himself, opting to allow himself to be choked slightly when his momentum carried him forward rather then rip Tim's arm out of its socket (for which Tim was always grateful. There was a worry that one day Bart wouldn't stop when Tim grabbed him, but it had been years and nothing had happened so he was willing to continue risking it).

Conner and Cassie finally stepped up while Bart recovered from his self induced whiplash.

"Hi, I'm Wonder Girl, this is Superboy, and you've just met Impulse," Cassie offered a bright smile, while Kon nodded politely. "It's nice to meet you."

They were all in costume, the bright colours and large symbols typically enough for most people to recognise at least which group of heroes the three belonged to (unlike Tim's, which was dark and understated aside from his cape to better match the grime of Gotham. His own Red Robin symbol rested over the centre of his chest, but there was no Bat-symbol on his uniform). It was still polite of Cassie to introduce them all, even if she had no way of knowing that Danny wouldn't recognise them like most people did.

Danny calmed down enough to settle, still floating but closer to the same height as the rest of them than he had been. "Hi! I'm Danny, or Nightingale. It's nice to meet you too! Red's talked about his team a lot."

Tim flushed when Danny leaned against him, seeing how the move made all three of his teammates take note of their joined hands and exceedingly close proximity, especially by Tim's standards (they weren't even touching that much, just holding hands with their arms against each other. But for Tim that was basically cuddling when it came to PDA and his team knew that).

"It's nice to meet you Nightingale," Kon held his hand out for Danny to shake, raising a brow at the temperature difference. "I can't say I've heard of you sorry. Are you a new hero? How long have you known Red Robin?"

Conner was so not subtle in his 'friendly' interrogation of Danny it was kind of funny. The kryptonian was leaning forward, trying to make intense eye contact with the ghost. Cassie showed her support of this suspicion by folding her arms next to Conner. Bart was happily oblivious, instead racing behind Tim and Danny to look at the ghosts tail, muttering questions under his breath.

Despite all of this, Danny just laughed happily, not phased in the slightest.

"Oh, no! Not anymore at least, though I was a vigilante of sorts when I was younger. We just met today actually," Tim had to avoid eye-contact as Kon, Cassie, and Bart, shot him shocked looks at that. "Ti- Red had some sort of beacon magic on him, really strong too I could feel it way out in space, and I just had to come check it out. This tower is so cool so when he offered me a tour I couldn't say no!"

"Today?!" "Beacon magic?!" "Space?!" his friends all shouted at once, and Tim just groaned.

Danny laughed happily before answering the poorly asked questions. "Yes, today. John Constantine did some magic using Red here as the focus, not sure why actually? And I was in space taking a tour of the cosmos, I don't think it should be that weird given the amount of non-humans in this… 'Justice Group' or whatever its called."

Okay, now Danny was definitely fucking with them. The ghost may not be from this universe but Tim had 100% told them the name of the League while on their tour. Tim's chest felt weirdly warm and light as he watched Danny and his team interact.

"Reeedddddddd," Barry whined, slumping against Kon in defeat.

"Okay, okay," Tim held a hand up (not the one holding Danny's, obviously). "Constantine had been tracking an anomaly in space for a while and, after determining it wasn't a threat, decided to create a beacon so that the creature could be alerted of the Watchtowers presence and avoid it if it so desired. But, because John is… himself, he decided that I would make a better anchor for the spell. We did the ritual, I left to go take a nap, and when I woke up Danny was hanging out outside, curious about the tower. So I invited them in, took him on a tour, and here we are now."

The others stared at him, stared at Danny (the aforementioned 'anomaly' who's hand he was still holding), stared back at Tim.

"I'm also a ghost," Danny offered.

"A… ghost?" Cassie looked dubious.

"Yeah! I died a while ago, don't ask how that's a surefire way to start a fight with a ghost fyi, and after being a 'hero'-" Danny said the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "-for a while I decided to take a sabbatical in space instead. I haven't been around many living beings in ages though, not since my older sister died."

The team, Tim included this time, all went a little stiff at the information Danny was just casually handing out. He was just far too easy about everything. Because he was dead? Or was he just like that?

Before any of them could recover enough to say something, Danny drifted forward towards Conner, head tilted.

"Are you kryptonian? Or maybe Asgardian? Nah you don't have the weird magic shit they do, plus you taste like radiation."

"He tastes like radiation?" Bart exclaimed.

"Yeah, you know? Solar radiation? I heard that Earth bound kryptons get like, supercharged cause of the yellow star. Makes sense that you'd become a hero here! And you!" Danny squinted at Bart. "Impulse was it? You're a speedster! I can see the stupid time fractures all around you my guy. Are you from the future or something?"

They all looked at Danny in silence again until Cassie raised her hand. "Can you tell what I am?"

"Oh!" The ghost drifted closer to her, pulling Tim along with him. "Well, you've got an aura of lightning around you… more storm than electricity… that lasso is definitely fuelled by rage though which is interesting. Your outfit is kinda familiar too…" Danny's words drifted off and Tim watched as they continued looking at Cassie, seeing more than any of them could.

Bart darted closer to Tim, leaning in closely with a twinkle in his eye. "So is this a new partner or enemy cause like. You're standing awful close there birdy."

Conner laughed at Tim's face, clearly having heard Bart, and made a heart with his hands behind Danny's back. Tim pushed at Bart and glared at Kon, but he didn't say anything against it, which was basically an admission for him and they knew it.

They both smiled happily, Bart elbowing his ribs for good measure, and gently teased him as they did.

"A-hah!"

The boys looked at Danny (had he lengthened again? His eyes looked more blue than before too…) and Cassie again, the former having grabbed at Cassie's hand in excitement.

"You're an Amazonian! Pandora talks about you guys all the time! She'll be so jealous I got to meet you!" His tail was lashing, leaving trails of snowflakes shimmering in the air, and he was smiling widely, sharp teeth flashing as he did.

Cassie looked a little overwhelmed for a moment before she steadied herself, taking a breath before she smiled warmly at Danny. "Yes, that's correct. I am an Amazonian, there are a few on the Justice League. You know Pandora? From the myths?"

"Well yeah! She rules all of the Athens ghosts. There's a decent amount of Amazonian's there I think."

"Pandora… rules Athens… as a ghost…" Cassie shook her head in disbelief before turning to Tim. "Marry him."

"We met literally today but go off," he said as if he hadn't been planning on how to get Danny to hang around since he laid eyes on them.

She just hummed happily and nodded to herself. "I'm Cassie, Tim is crazy but he's the smartest person I know. Hurt him, and we'll find a way to kill what's already dead."

Okay, so they had caught Danny's almost slip earlier with Tim's name. And were apparently giving a dead guy the shovel talk now. How was this his life.

Danny, evidently taking this as a challenge for unknown reasons, decided to float closer to Tim. His cold form pressed against Tim's back and his long clawed hands stretched over his shoulders to wrap around him, head propping up on top of Tim's. The hold was relaxed, Tim could easily break out, but he just leaned into it with amusement.

"You can tryyy~"

Tim could hear the sing-song of Danny's voice, and the eerie quality that it took on as the ghost starred down Tim's team. It wasn't a threat, almost more of a dare - like he would welcome the fight if they wanted it.

Tim could see Cassie sizing the ghost up, squinting and picking him apart while Danny just swayed gently against Tim. Bart was looking between them all curiously, bouncing in place, but a hand from Conner held him mostly still. Conner coughed, drawing attention to himself.

"Yes, very nice Cassie, you've definitely intimidated Tim's new eldritch partner," the super laughed and nudged Bart. "I'm Conner, or Kon-El if you know kryptonian I guess."

Danny tensed against Tim, but Bart darted around them in a few quick laps before stopping next to Tim and Danny, head tilted up at the ghost.

"And I'm Bart!" The speedster said, smiling widely. "If you're a ghost can you go in space? Wait you said you were in space? Does that mean you spend a lot of time out there? Do you wanna hang out with us? Can you playvideogames? Wouldyou-"

Conner clamped a hand down over Bart's mouth before he could continue, and it was only Kryptonian strength that stopped Bart from phasing right through with how much he was vibrating.

Danny just laughed brightly, tenseness forgotten in the wake of Impulse.

"I am the Ancient of Space, so yeah you could say I spend a lot of time there," (Kon and Cassie both looked at Tim but he just shrugged and shook his head. He still needed more info from Constantine on that one). "I would be happy to hang out with you all. I can definitely play video games, I've even haunted one before."

Danny wiggled his fingers at Bart, causing the other to 'ohhhh' with admiration.

The computer in Tim's gauntlet pinged, pulling his attention away from his friends. He clicked a few buttons to see what the alert was for, aware that if it was only coming through on his personal device and not the tower as a whole it probably wasn't an emergency (for everyone else at least, it could be one for him). His personal zeta alert was up, warning him that Bruce was making his way up to the Watchtower. None of his siblings seemed to be with the man at least. That would make escape easier.

Tim started moving, Danny going along for the ride given his position still wrapped over Tim's shoulders. His team followed easily, used to Tim moving them seemingly at random (it was always for a reason, if they didn't know the reason until later). He could hear them continue chatting as they walked, eventually making it to the secondary zeta tubes (which were conveniently almost directly across the station from the main ones).

He automatically went to program the tubes to take them to the Young Justice base before pausing, tilting his head to look up at Danny (the ghost looked so comfortable and trusting, smiling with sharp teeth as they spoke to Tim's friends). Danny noticed the attention, turning from his conversation with Bart to look at Tim with bright, curious eyes.

"Wanna go somewhere fun?"

"With you starlight? Anywhere."

Tim changed the destination to his nest in Gotham, cheeks flaming. It wouldn't be hard to make their way to his own stashed transport (a batship he had hidden in different fund similar to his own batmobile years ago) from there. And then they could easily go wherever they wanted, on Earth or in space. Besides, as Tam would happily say, Tim was overdue for a vacation anyway.

Honestly, the where didn't really matter. He just wanted to have fun with his team, with Danny. Explore space with no real end in sight (maybe they'd get Bart his fro-yo on the way).

As a book he read once said, "the most important journeys and dreams are those without end".