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Robin looked at Phantom and scowled. The ghost had just popped up in Gotham about a year ago and had made himself at home. No one had asked Robin’s opinion. Robin, personally, thought that the ghost was some kind of Pit Demon. With the way the other’s eyes glowed Lazarus green, but unlike that oaf, Todd, Phantom seemed to be complete control of his faculties. Not to mention, how the ghost always seemed to be flirting with him.
“Some heavy thoughts for such a Pretty Bird,” Phantom quipped.
“Cease this at once, Phantom. It is unbecoming of us as vigilantes,” Robin snapped at the other.
“Robin. Phantom. Kite Man and Condiment King have paired up and are threatening to bomb City Hall. I can’t get the drone to scan the schematics of the bomb to be able to see if it’s incendiary bomb, or one filled with CK’s brand of chaos. You two are closest,” Oracle said as a ping popped up on both of the wrist gauntlets.
And hadn’t that been a shock to Robin. To find out that that Pretender had worked with the ghost and had found a way to infuse ectoplasm into the wrist computer so that Phantom could access the Batnetwork. Robin felt like he was going to explode when he found out.
“Copy that, Oracle. So, Robin. Do you want to take the long way? Or the short way?” Phantom asked as he wiggled his eyebrows in a suggestive smirk. Robin felt his face heat up in what could only be a blush.
“I do not need to be manhandled,” Robin growled.
“Oh, I know. But this is faster,” Phantom laughed at the discomfiture of the other boy as he held out his hand.
Robin huffed before accepting. He didn’t like it, but he also knew it would be faster. Kite Man was unpredictable in the best of times. And paired with Condiment King. Ugh. What a mess. It could be that the bomb was nothing more than way to paint City Hall with the newest concoction of Condiment King’s creation, like the time he used sriracha mayo, mustard, and ketchup all in one mix. Or the bomb could contain C4 and blow five city blocks. OR absolute worst case scenario, it could be both. Robin shuddered thinking about it.
Robin merely accepted the outstretched hand. Unlike flying with Superboy II, flying with Phantom was something else entirely. It was like gravity just decided to turn itself off. Robin would know; he’s been to space; he knows what being in zero-gravity feels like. And flying with Phantom felt exactly like that. Flying with any Super or other flying superhero, Robin could still feel the wind resistance, could still feel Superboy pull against the Earth’s gravitational force. But this…he couldn’t feel any of that.
Phantom also had the distinct advantage of going invisible so that not even Oracle’s updated cameras could see them. Duke could catch some of the light trails, but even then, it wasn’t a complete guarantee. Duke still lost Phantom about half the time, especially if Phantom used his intangibility to go through a building or through multiple buildings.
Robin intensely disliked the feeling of Phantom’s intangibility. It felt like slimy ice, if that WAS even a feeling. It felt like ice niggled down, into, and under Robin’s skin. It got worse when they passed through other solid objects. But Robin couldn’t deny that their travel time was halved, and before Robin could think to call for more backup, they were floating in front of City Hall. It was an expedient form of travel.
Kite Man was zipping about using a damn flamethrower, while Condiment King was using his guns to spay whatever new condiment he’d concocted at random passersby. Because, even in Gotham, people couldn’t help but stop and gawk. Like seriously. There was a fucking bomb, as Todd would say.
Robin and Phantom dropped down on an adjoining rooftop to come up with a plan. It wasn’t rocket science. Phantom would go after the rogues since he could fly, use his intangibility, and duplicate himself. This would keep the rogues’ focus on him, while Robin could focus on getting any civilians away then refocus on disarming the bomb. They shouldn’t need any reinforcements.
They shouldn’t have…but when are things ever that simple in Gotham.
Phantom was going a good job of keeping the rogues’ attention on him. His quips and snark reminded Robin of Richard, in a way. Phantom used his ice liberally to counter Condiment King’s guns, and he used it as a weight to slowly bring down Kite Man. Phantom hadn’t wanted to use too much ice on the wings of Kite Man’s suit for fear of the man crashing, but he’d used just enough that the man no longer had complete control of his glide and was in danger of crashing into the side of a building. If he didn’t want that to happen, he needed to land.
Before Phantom could completely ice of CK’s tanks, they exploded, throwing BBQ sauce and pickle relish went everywhere. Robin even heard a wet splat as it hit some of the upper windows on City Hall. Several people got absolutely covered in red and green slop. Phantom quickly flew over and used his intangibility on them to get them clean. They thanked him before running out of the area of effect. Phantom then quickly encased both rogues in a thick wall of unbreakable ice. He informed Robin that it would only melt when he wanted it to.
Robin gave a very Bat-like grunt through the comm. He couldn’t verbally respond as he was concentrating on disarming the bomb. He did not squeak when Phantom materialized next to him. And if he did, no he didn’t. Shut your mouth before Robin skewers you on his katana.
Robin worked quickly and efficiently, and at seventeen seconds, he was able to disarm the bomb. Neither vigilante noticed the goon sneaking up on them until Phantom felt a knife, a dagger really, going through his back. Phantom looked up at Robin in surprise as the dagger lodged firmly in his back, between his kidneys.
He coughed once before toppling forward, which thankfully ripped the dagger out of the goon’s hands. Robin let out a feral snarl and bludgeoned the man with the dull side of his katana repeatedly until the man fell unconscious. Robin turned towards his partner, already pulling out the appropriate first aid supplies from his utility belt.
He quickly and carefully pulled out his packet of quickclot (not even sure it would work with Phantom’s physiology) and inserted it around the knife, and then he wrapped several layers of gauze around the wound, the packing gauze, and the knife still sticking in Phantom’s back. Time was utmost importance. Phantom’s transformation rings began popping up around Phantom’s waist, and Robin tried to pretend his hands weren’t shaking.
“Please, Beloved. Stay,” Robin whispered, hoping his voice didn’t carry into the comms. His hopes were dashed as the usual chatter went silent.
“’M h’re, Pretty Bird,” Phantom stuttered.
“Robin. Phantom. Batmobile is four minutes out,” Oracle informed them.
Phantom keened, a high and pitiful sound. Robin shushed him, carding his gloved hands through Phantom’s sweat slick white hair. The roar of the Batmobile’s engine made Robin look up and heave a sigh of relief. Nightwing and Batman hopped out and raced over to the youngest Bat with the backboard in tow. The two larger Bats knelt down at the younger vigilantes’ side and then carefully rolled Phantom onto the board and then secured him so that he wouldn’t fall off during transport. Phantom let out another keen as he was jostled. Robin hushed him again.
Phantom was laid across the backseat, and Robin climbed in with him. Batman and Nightwing climbed into the front of the Batmobile, and then it was off like a shot. It took turns that on any other vehicle would have made that vehicle flip or roll. Robin felt his shoulders untense as he could see the waterfall rapidly approaching.
The moment the Batmobile came to a stop on its platform he jumped out, not even waiting for it to come to a complete stop. He ran to Phantom’s locker and opened it using his thumbprint. Other than Alfred, Robin was the only other Bat that had access to Phantom’s locker. Robin rooted around for the clunky first aid kit before whooping in triumph when his hands finally latched on to it.
He raced back to the medbay where Pennyworth was already pulling out various things in order to begin the process to remove the knife and suture Phantom up. Pennyworth had already cut part of Phantom’s suit away.
“Pennyworth, you will need the suture material from this first aid kit for Phantom,” Damian said as he shoved the kit under the butler’s nose. Pennyworth looked at it and nodded.
Pennyworth sat the kit to the side so that he would have access to it when the time came. Phantom’s transformation rings popped up around his waist, and this time, they didn’t disappear. They travelled up and down Phantom’s unconscious form, and the boy went from wearing a Kevlar reinforced suit to a NASA hoodie and jeans. Damian sucked in a breath. Phantom had only briefly mentioned what to expect if Robin ever saw those rings. That's how Damian knew things had just gone from bad to worse.
Opening the first aid kit, Damian pulled out a syringe labeled “ecto-dejecto”. Phantom had once confessed it was one of the only “good” inventions from his…, and then he’d stopped. But it hadn’t taken much to infer that he’d had been talking about his parents since he never talked about them. Damian had guessed that the ghost’s parents were a sore topic since whenever he’d attempted to bring them up, the ghost very skillfully deflected and redirected the conversation to something else.
Dr. Leslie Thompkins came rushing in, and thankfully, Pennyworth had instructed her to lose her white coat. The two medical experts worked in tandem to patch the now living teenager up. While Leslie was working on the stitches, Alfred administered the “ecto-dejecto”. Damian had to remind Leslie and Alfred to use the “Fenton Fishing Line” as Leslie had almost reached for regular sutures.
“Thank you, Damian. We’ll get him patched up,” Leslie reassured the youngest Bat. Damian nodded and then stepped back to allow them to work.
Damian’s hands were shaking when Richard found him. “So, you and Phantom, huh?”
“I didn’t even know he had a civilian identity. He never talks about his life before Gotham,” Damian replied while stoically refusing to look at Richard’s face.
“Oh, Baby Bat,” Dick cooed while opening his arms in case Damian wanted a hug.
“I’m not a baby,” the boy replied with a sniffle.
“Never said you were. But maybe he didn’t tell you because he was afraid of your reaction,” Dick reassured the other, even as Damian leaned into Dick’s arms.
“Why would he be afraid…” Something seemed to click in Damian’s head, and the boy’s head whipped up. His eyes flashed in righteous indignation. “I will kill those gabi haram.” He snarled. Dick nearly flinched at the pure hatred in the boy’s voice and the stormy look that promised murder in the boy’s eyes.
Before Dick could stop him, Damian rushed back into the medbay and grabbed one of Phantom’s hands. “Beloved, I assure you. I will stay by your side until you are sick of me. Only my death could pry me away from you. And even then, I would become a ghost just stay with you,” Damian promise with a fervor that usually only heard when he was threatening rogues, villains, and other lowlifes of Gotham.
“D’ny…” The boy slurred.
“What was that, Beloved?” Damian asked, leaning in closer to be able to him better.
“’y n’me…” He took a deep breath and winced, and for a moment, his cloudy eyes regained their focus, and he locked eyes with Damian. Then, he tried to sit up. “Danny. Danny Lancer.”
Damian knew that his family was listening and would be doing a deep dive on his partner within a few moments. He knew Dra…Timothy (he and Timothy had begun to repair their relationship and the younger had finally started to call his older brother by his given name) would be running a complete and thorough background check. Timothy would probably find whatever else Danny was hiding. But Damian knew with absolute certainty that whatever Timothy found, it would do nothing to change his mind or heart in how he felt about the boy laying on the medical bed in front of him.
“That is quite enough, young man,” Alfred said sternly. Danny wilted under his glare. “I will not have you trying to pull your sutures,” the butler continued in a softer tone, not wanting Danny to feel like he was mad. “Once you have recovered some, we can move upstairs and have the conversations that need to be done. Correct, Master Bruce?” Alfred directed that last part to someone standing just outside of the door.
“Hn,” a cowl-less Bruce grunted. Danny had to stifle his giggles.
“Rest, Beloved. I will be here when you wake,” Damian stated and then to prove his words, he brought a chair up close to Danny’s bed. Danny hummed, not able to form any more words before he lost the battle with staying conscious.
---------
“This is SOOOO not how I planned to have this conversation,” Danny griped as he was being wheeled into the family sitting room.
Damian huffed as he pushed his boyfriend’s chair. He raised an eyebrow as he asked, “And just how did you picture this conversation going?”
“Oh, I had the whole thing planned. We were going to go to the Art Museum, and then to your favorite Persian place over in Burnley. Then, I was going to take you back to my apartment and tell you all about me being Phantom and hoped that you still wanted to be with me,” Danny said with a small laugh.
“Did you know about me being Robin?” Damian asked.
“I kind of had an idea. Some ghosts are terrible gossips. Whoever coined the term ‘dead men tell no tales’ lied. The dead LOVE to gossip. But that’s also Secret Identity 101. And I wanted you to come to me with yours. Having your secret identity outed without your permission is so NOT ok.”
Damian and Danny entered, and Damian watched as Danny stiffened in the chair as nine pairs of eyes turned towards them. Damian leaned and whispered that he would be beside the ghost, regardless of his family’s feelings on the matter.
“Daniel,” Bruce began and then stuttered to a stop when the teenager in question bodily flinched.
“Please, just Danny, sir. There’s…I’m not…It’s just…” Danny attempted to say, but his breath was caught somewhere between his lungs and his throat, and the words. JUST. WOULD. NOT. COME. OUT.
“Danny. Breathe with me. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight,” Damian said as he rushed around to the front of Danny’s chair and placed Danny’s hand on his chest so that Danny could feel Damian’s chest rise and fall. Damian made a point to exaggerate the breathing motions, and after a few breaths, Danny began calming down. “Danny, what are five things you can see?”
“The chandelier, the curtains, the tv, the book on the shelf, and the rainbows from the suncatcher,” Danny replied unsteadily.
“What are four things you can touch?” Damian asked the next question on the checklist.
“The wheelchair I’m in, your hands, the couch cushion, and my hair brushing against my collar.”
“What are three things you can hear?”
“The news on the tv, your voice, and my heartbeat.”
“What are two things you can smell?”
“Cookies, specifically oatmeal chocolate chip and peanut butter, and lemon floor cleaner.”
“What is one thing you can taste?”
“The mint tea Alfred brought me before I came up here,” Danny heaved a less shaky breath and shook his head to clear the last dredges of cobwebs that his near panic attack that Mr. Wayne had caused. It wasn’t Mr. Wayne’s fault though; he didn’t know about Danny’s name trauma.
“What did you DO, Old Man?” Danny heard someone other than Damian snarl.
“I didn’t do anything, Jaylad,” Bruce responded.
“It’s not Mr. Wayne’s fault,” Danny defended the man. “There’s just this creepy fruitloop back home that always calls me Daniel, but in a ‘I want to own you’ or other slimy bullshit way, and I just don’t like it.”
For a brief moment, everyone held their breath while they processed what Danny had said, and then there was complete cacophony as everyone truly realized what Danny had said. Danny only heard bits and pieces of what everyone was saying. But he definitely heard “I’m gonna kill a fucker” and “Their credit will never recover” and “I shall use their entrails as flags over Gotham”. It made something warm and fuzzy settle in his heart because the Ancients only knew that his par Jack and Maddie had never been like that about him. Not even when they actually cared, before the portal opened.
“Ahem. If the young Masters will allow Mister Danny to explain, and I’m sure he has an explanation,” Alfred said calmly. And almost immediately, the room descended into calm quiet that only Alfred could command.
“Let’s start with how Danny came to Gotham, and then we’ll proceed from there, shall we?” Alfred stated with his Raised EyebrowTM, the one that said there will BE no argument over the matter. There was a chorus of “Yes, Alfred” that answered. “Very good. I shall fetch some refreshments. I trust you to be able to handle things in the meantime, Master Bruce?” Alfred turned on his heel and walked out, trusting that his wards would follow his instructions. After all, he was the true master of the house.
“Alright then, Danny, what can you tell us about how you came be to be in Gotham?”
“To start that tale, I need to tell you about Phantom,” Danny took a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking hands. Damian noticed and offered his hands as support. “I grew up in a medium sized Midwest city. It’s not near as big as Gotham, but it wasn’t a small town either. It was large enough to have a mall, and some other stuff. It’s known as ‘The Most Haunted Town in America’. Everyone thinks of it as a tourist gimmick. It’s not. Ghosts are very much real.”
“Of course, they are. Aliens, Gods, Demi-gods, Demons, and magic are real. So why wouldn’t ghosts be real. And everyone in this room has worked with at least one ghost at some point,” Bruce hastily reassured the teen.
Danny let some of the tension in his shoulders out as if relieved someone finally believed him. “Doctors Jack and Madeline Fenton hold degrees in ectobiology, mechanical engineering, chemical engineering, and theoretical physics, with their doctorate being in ectobiology. When they were in college, they were working on their proto-portal, a portal that would open into what they called the Ghost Zone, a zone in which ghosts were supposed to live. Their proto-portal quiet literally blew up in the face of their colleague.
They forgot about it for a while, and then me and my sister came along. Things were great. But then, Jack and Maddie remembered their portal. But instead of trying to recreate their original design, they decided to make it ‘bigger and better’, not even knowing IF it would work. Their lab was in the basement of our house. As they got more involved in their work, my sister and I were forgotten. Jazz tried to pretend like she was the adult, but I just wanted my sister. It formed a rift between us. You could almost say that I resented her for it.
About three years ago, Jack and Maddie announced that they’d finished their grand work. A brand new portal. It was five times the size of the original and built into the wall of the basement. At first, it didn’t work. There was…a wiring issue. Jack powered it on, but it didn’t work. I had a few friends over, and they wanted to see it. We went down to the lab, and I showed them the portal. It was off; it wasn’t supposed to work. One of my friends wanted a picture of me standing inside the portal.
I put on a hazmat suit. Never can be too careful, ya know. Then, walked inside. I turned around; she snapped the pic, and then I tried to walk out. I tripped on something. A loose wire. A nut or bolt. I don’t…I’m not…It doesn’t matter. Something took me out. My hand braced against the wall to keep me from face-planting, and I felt something click underneath it. Then, my world went white and green with pain.
Near as me and friends could tell, the electricity from the portal killed me, but the ectoplasm from the Ghost Zone revived me. It took about three minutes for the portal to stabilize and spit me out. When I woke up on the floor of the basement, I had white hair and green eyes. And then, I could switch between the forms at will.
This went on for two years. Jack and Maddie would create inventions to tear that nasty ghost boy apart ‘molecule-by-molecule’, and I would go in and sabotage them. Either by outright make it so the inventions didn’t work at all, or making it so that they didn’t work as intended.
During this time, ghosts would come out of the portal and cause havoc in the Living world. Often times, it was because they forgot how squishy and breakable humans are. Not because ghosts themselves are evil. There were a few, but just like humans, a few do not define all. Then, everything changed when Pariah Dark invaded. He was former Ghost King. I banded together with all of the ghosts and defeated him. The ghosts tried to say that that made me the Ghost King, but seriously, I’m only seventeen; at the time, I would have been fifteen. So HELL NO. I worked with the ghosts, and established Dorathea as the new ruler, and now I’m one of her Fright Knights.”
Danny took a deep breath, and then he decided to munch on one of the finger sandwiches Alfred had brought in during his story. Some of the others did the same. They’d all been around the Flashes and others who’d gained their meta powers through less than stellar means, but this…that Danny had essentially died. A shudder went through the gathered vigilantes. Bruce looked like he was about to cry at the thought that he’d failed yet another child.
“What changed?” Bruce finally found his voice enough to ask.
“About a year ago, a new group of ghost hunters were introduced. They claimed they were government backed. Called themselves the Ghost Investigation Ward, but everyone else called them the Guys In White because they were Men In Black knock-offs. At first, they were incompetent and just generally bad at doing their job. But as time went on, they got better. Then, I found out that Jack and Maddie were working with them, and things got dangerous. I knew I couldn’t stay.
With the help of my friends and sister, we shut down their portal. Permanently. Made sure that they could never rebuild it. Destroyed all their blueprints. My tech friend set up a program that would alert one of us if they ever managed to get another one up and running. My other friend gave me a few thousand dollars to get set up here. And me and my sister made up. She apologized for trying to be my parent when I needed my sister.
Once I got to Gotham, everyone back home realized that the GIW were full of shit. Not only did they NOT have government backing, the ‘laws’ they claimed they were operating under never passed. In fact, the Meta Rights Acts has several paragraphs that directly outline and state inter-dimensional beings, which ghosts classify as since they come from the Infinite Realms which is the proper name of the Ghost Zone, are protected by the Meta Rights Acts.
As soon as I revealed myself as Phantom to Robin, I was hoping to approach Batman so that he could get the Justice League involved to run the GIW out of Amity. But well…Fenton LuckTM strikes again,” Danny finally finished with rubbing the back of his neck in a distinctly nervous tic.
No one really knew what to say. It had been a lot. Bruce had never encountered someone who had willingly gave up information. Usually, information like what Danny had just word vomited out had to be “persuaded” out of the informant. Each of the Bats had their own style of persuasion, even if some of them were a bit on the more unorthodox (read violent) side.
“Why tell all us this now?” Bruce asked, trying to keep the conversation on track.
“Like I told Robin…er, Damian, I had a whole plan. But me transforming last night kind of derailed that,” Danny stated with another neck rub.
“Speaking of that. What was that, Casper?” Jason snarked.
“The other ghosts call me a halfa. Half ghost, half human. When the portal opened on top of me, it spliced my DNA with ectoplasm. And hey, I get a magical girl transformation out of it,” Danny replied with jazz hands. All of the younger Bats groaned at the reference.
“And why did you transform?” Tim asked, curious.
“Most of the time, I can maintain my Phantom form. But when I lose consciousness, it’s a fifty-fifty chance of me dropping my transformation. But, I do know that the worse the injury, the more of a chance I have of dropping my transformation.”
“Hn,” Bruce grunted. Tim, Jason, and Dick snorted.
“HOW has no one ever noticed that Phantom is just a palette swapped Danny?” Tim asked incredulously.
“One of my friends back home did, and for a while, he tried to convince everyone that we were the same person. But once the GIW came to power, he stopped. But the real answer to your question is that Phantom is dead.” A wince and flinch went through the room as everyone thought of Jason. “That’s not just a play on words. Yes, Phantom is a type of ghost, but also, Phantom is very much dead. But at the same time, Danny is very much alive. Two halves of the same coin. People don’t want to believe or accept that fourteen-year-old Danny could have died right under their noses because then that would be a VERY BAD THING. So, their eyes just kind of slide past it.”
And didn’t that just break their hearts. Because he was right. People didn’t like to look too closely at things that made them uncomfortable. And a fourteen-year-old child dying would be at the top of the list of uncomfortable topics. Hell, even BRUCE, hadn’t been able to handle Jason’s death.
The rest of the morning passed in a pleasant fashion, and they moved to lighter topics. Danny’s plans for the future. If he was going to go to college. Bruce had offered to pay, but Danny had declined stating that he’d gotten a full ride scholarship to Gotham University. Seeing Bruce’s crestfallen face, Danny quickly amended that he wouldn’t mind Bruce paying for a better apartment. While he didn’t live in Crime Alley because he could sense another Realms Being’s claim on the area (all eyes turned towards Jason), he lived in The Narrows, which was only marginally better. Bruce brightened immediately. Damian may or may not have muttered something about bribing his boyfriend.
Later that night, Danny and Damian were on the roof of Wayne Manor as the sunset and the few stars that could be seen in Gotham came out. It was a relatively cloudless night, for once. Danny leaned against Damian’s chest, and he could feel the muscle there. Something that was always hidden beneath Damian’s choice of clothing.
“I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” Danny murmured.
“I…I am glad that I no longer have to keep secrets from you. I wanted to tell you about being Robin,” Damian whispered as if afraid of speaking too loudly and breaking the spell.
“Me too. Er, not about the Robin thing. But that we don’t have to keep secrets from each other. And I’m so glad that you and your family took it well,” Danny said with a contented hum.
Damian listened for a moment as another sound caught his attention. It was a purr, not too different from Alfred the Cat’s purr when the feline had been lounging in the sun, and Damian pet his belly. So, he asked the question on his mind, hoping it wouldn’t disrupt the feeling too much. “Has that happened before? Someone taking your reveal badly, I mean?”
The purr stuttered before growing softer. It didn’t quite peter out, but it was a near thing. “Jack and Maddie. They found out. Let’s just say they nearly made good on their threats to tear me apart molecule by molecule. I escaped, with help from my friends and sister, before any lasting damage could be done,” Danny replied softly with a somber lilt in his voice. Damian was quick to change the subject.
They talked for a few more hours before Damain felt Danny nod off on his shoulder. Damian scooped up his now boyfriend and gently carried him inside. He thought about carrying him to the room that Alfred had set up for him and then changed course for Damian’s room. He thought that Danny wouldn’t want to wake up in a strange room all alone.
Their relationship as Danny and Damian was new. Damian couldn’t wait to explore it now that everything was out in the open. He laid Danny down on the bed after slipping the boy’s shoes off and then slipped in next to him. Danny immediately turned towards the source of heat. Damian shivered as Danny’s cooler body made contact with his, but then they both settled. Damian wrapped his arms around the other boy, and ran rough, calloused hands through soft, black locks. Danny began purring again.
“Beloved, is that you making that noise?” Damian asked in confusion before he could fully drop off into slumber.
“Hmm? Oh yeah, that’s my ghost core. Purrs when I’m happy,” Danny mumbled.
Damian stared at Danny in shock as he registered Danny’s words. He made Danny happy. A smile graced Damian’s face as he, too, fell asleep finally wrapped in his Beloved’s arms. Just as it was meant to be. Neither boy noticed the small green post-it note that was stuck on top of Damian’s laptop.
Daniel, All is as it should be.
-CW