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“How can you see into my eyes like open doors?,” Phantom said to no one in particular. The comms went silent.
“You ok there, Ghosty-Goo?,” Nightwing responded.
“I’ve got eyes on Phantom. He’s floating off the corner of Maple and N Street by the Gotham Opera House,” Oracle chimed in. “Nightwing. Red Robin. You two are closest.”
The two vigilantes exchanged a look. They’d just wrapped up a bank robbery that the new villain of the week had decided that tonight was THE night to show out. Both vigilantes had had to fight back a laugh at the villain’s gimmick. A cow. A FUCKING COW. Like full on Chick-Fil-A Cow. He even blasted milk (or something that looked and smelled an awfully lot like rotten milk) from udders on the front of the cow costume. The man didn’t even have all that great of a name. He’d called himself Brah-Man. Like a damn Brahman cow. He even had the fucking hump on his back.
Nightwing and Red Robin wrapped things up and left the villain zip tied to a light pole waiting for GCPD to come pick him up. They shot their grapples nearly simultaneously and flew through the night towards their newest member. Phantom hadn’t been a part of the Gotham vigilante group long, only a few months, but all of the Bat and Birds that flew were fiercely protective of the ghost. It didn’t help that he was supposedly an orphan.
When they reached the spot where Oracle had indicated that Phantom was, they could see him just…just floating there. He was eerily still. Not even his hair was moving, which was highly unusual considering the ghost was almost always in motion of some kind. His back was turned to the vigilantes which raised the hackles of them both. Phantom rarely positioned himself so that his back was turned to anyone, friend or foe, if he could help it. He once said it was because ghosts could use their intangibility to come from quite literally any direction.
Red Robin was the one to break the silence. “Phantom,” he called softly, hoping that since he was closer in age to the ghost (no one knew for certain since they hadn’t quite sussed out his civvie identity yet) that he would respond better.
That hope was squashed like Wil E. Coyote being handed an ACME anvil after just having run off the cliff after chasing Road Runner.
When Phantom floated around to face them, his eyes were glowing faintly red, and Red Robin could tell that no one was home. Or at least no one was driving the car. Although from the even fainter twitches of Phantom’s fingers, it appeared that he was fighting…whatever it was. And then Phantom opened his mouth.
How can you see into my eyes like open doors?
Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb
Without a soul my spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home
Wake me up inside
Wake me up inside
Call my name and save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become
Now that I know what I'm without
You can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life
Wake me up inside
Wake me up inside
Call my name and save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become
Bring me to life
I've been livin' a lie
There's nothing inside
Bring me to life
Frozen inside
Without your touch without your love
Darling, only you
Are the life among the dead
All this time, I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me
I've been sleeping a thousand years, it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything
Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul
Don't let me die here
There must be something more
Bring me to life
Wake me up inside
Wake me up inside
Call my name and save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become
Bring me to life
It was haunting.
It was beautiful.
It was hauntingly beautiful.
It was terrifying.
Phantom’s voice was staticky and layered. And none of the heroes gathered knew that he could sing. Granted of course, they didn’t know if it was a “ghost” thing, or if was Phantom specific thing. It wasn’t like they could ask. It could also be because the person behind Phantom was a naturally talented singer.
Tears were streaming down Phantom’s face as he finished singing, and Red Robin could tell that he was fighting something as if he wanted to slump over almost like he had no energy left. Red Robin surreptitiously reached for the Thermos that Phantom had insisted on the Bats carrying. Something was up with Phantom, and the only way to safely transport the ghost would be to “soup” him in the newly redesigned Thermos.
Phantom noticed the danger a little too late. He tried to swing away or fire an ectoblast, but Red Robin had already depressed the button on the Thermos that would activate the force field to pull the ghost in. He tried to fight it, but Phantom had said the Thermos was designed to contain even the most powerful of ghosts. He wasn’t going anywhere OR getting out anytime soon.
I linger in the doorway
Of alarm clock screaming
Monsters calling my name
Let me stay where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops as they're falling tell a story
In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby (Flowers)
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me (Flowers)
“WHAT THE FUCK!” Hood snarled as he landed beside the other two vigilantes. “That’s the second time we’ve heard creepy Evanescence lyrics,” he exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air.
“I’ve got ecto readings about a block north. I think you should switch your comm filters to Phantom Phones,” Oracle intoned.
Nightwing and Red Robin were quick to flick a switch on their comms so that it would filter out any ecto noise. It was a good thing too. Hood’s helmet did it automatically. Because not a moment later, they heard it. A grating high-pitched noise that was definitely what would have been subliminal suggestions. Something about remembering someone named “Ember.” Hood mumbled that he was going to kill a bitch…or rekill a bitch if that was possible as the three of them took off to find the other ghost.
They found a blue-skinned punk rocker with blue flamed hair on a makeshift stage. Her guitar seemed to be the source of her power, according to Phantom’s database that Oracle sent to each of their wrist computers. Ember had mind control powers, which explained Phantom’s strange behavior, and pyrokinesis. The more people who were enchanted by Ember’s music the more powerful she became.
The three of them split up. Hood and Nightwing were going to be on distraction duty. They would keep Ember focus on them and dodge her attacks. Red Robin would find a way to swipe or break her guitar. Hood grunted in pain when her ectoblasts connected, and Ember would scream when Nightwing escrima sticks made contact. By the time Red Robin had the chance to throw a batarang and crack her guitar in half, both Hood and Nightwing were sporting several bruises, and Hood was bleeding from three places that were likely going to need sutures. Red Robin hadn’t escaped unscathed either. He’d taken an unlucky hit from a flying speaker and figured he had a mild concussion and a broken ankle for his troubles. All three of them were breathing heavily as they limped towards the waiting Batmobile.
Nightwing was the one who managed to capture the other ghost in his Thermos. Ember hadn’t gone quietly. She kept screaming about how she wanted to “Bring Babypop to Life” and how she wasn’t actually hurting anything. She just wanted to have some fun. That’s when Hood finally, finally lost it.
“THIS. IS. NOT. ‘ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING’ from Buffy, The Vampire Slayer,” Hood said, exasperated with the ghost’s antics. He was DONE with the whole damn night. He was bleeding on his best damn jacket. He had Evanescence stuck in his head, and now he had to put up with Nightwing's effervescent ass, and that man was going to be insufferable.
The Batmobile roared along the dark, dank, and damp streets of Gotham. Red Robin fiddled with Thermos containing Phantom but hadn’t dared to release him yet. They weren’t too sure if he’d still be under Ember’s mind control or not since Ember was in Nightwing’s Thermos. They would know more once they were back in the Cave and could contact Pharaoh who was currently going to school in Central City and working at S.T.A.R. Labs with Barry Allen, or the First Flash.
All three of the vigilantes were short tempered when the Batmobile finally rolled into the Cave, and none of them even waited for it to come to a complete stop before hopping out. Oracle already had Pharaoh and Flash pulled up on the Batcomputer for a consultation. Red Robin raced, or well, hobbled over to the giant computer; Nightwing and Hood hot on his heels. Barry wasn’t actually in full costume, although he did have the red jumpsuit on leaving his head and face bare. Pharoah, or one Tucker Foley, was in his classic red beret and gray sweater. He had at least changed out his glasses for contacts.
“Howdy, Gotham. What can I do you for?” Tucker asked shooting finger guns at the camera with an impish grin.
“Flash. Pharaoh,” Batman grunted out.
“What Bats means is hi, how are you? But also, we think we have a problem,” Nightwing shoved in front of Batman, shooting his mentor a glare.
They watched as Tucker sobered immediately and sighed. “Which ghost was it?”
Red Robin took over recounting (while also fighting to NOT throw up) how Phantom went still. How he was singing so eerily. How his eyes flashed red. How he didn’t even put up a fight being souped in the Thermos. How they’d encountered a second ghost called Ember…
“FUCK! FUCKING FUCK FUCK!” Tucker swore. “And you’ve got both Phantom and Ember in Thermoses, right?”
“Yes, we souped Phantom first because we didn’t realize that we were dealing with a ghost. The minute Oracle realized that there was a second ghost, we filtered our comms to Phantom Phones. That’s when we heard the subliminal messages. We tracked the source to Ember,” Red Robin informed Tucker.
“Ok. That’s…that’s really good. Was Phantom injured at all?”
Red Robin slowly shook his head so that he didn't spark any pounding, or at least any MORE pounding. “No. We’re the only ones who sustained injuries, and nothing serious.”
“OK. So, the best thing to do would be to let Phantom out first. Once he’s out, you can double check him for injuries. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, he’s the worst about hiding them. After that, he can handle Ember,” Tucker informed the Gotham based vigilantes after some rapid fire typing.
“You’re sure. He won’t still be under the mind control?” Nightwing asked, worry lacing his voice.
“No. It was broken the moment you broke Ember’s guitar. That’s the source of her power.”
The Bats breathed a sigh of relief. Phantom was theirs, and none of them liked the fact that they’d had to contain him, possibly hurting him in the process, while they figured shit out. That they could now let him out without repercussions made them all almost giddy.
Red Robin unclipped his Thermos, uncapped it, and pressed the button that release Phantom. Phantom kind of flowed out like a reverse slime. He gooped into a puddle on the floor in this weird mix of white, green, and black before he slowly recomposed himself. The first thing that formed was the top of his head. The white hair stuck out in wild angles. Then his eyes and the rest of his face were next. His torso and arms were next. Followed by his upper thighs and lastly his stark white boots.
His Phantom form floated in the air in stasis for a few minutes before the transformation rings that all of the Bats had gotten used to popped up around his waist. Red Robin realized that he was about to drop and signaled for another bat to catch him. Nightwing sprinted for him because he knew that as soon as those rings got done doing their thing that Danny would drop like boulder. And he was right. Danny groaned before collapsing. Fortunately, he was only a few feet in the air, so he didn’t drop far. Nightwing grunted with the impact though. Because an unconscious person was still dead (hehehe) weight.
Batman walked over and took Danny out of Nightwing’s arms and walked over to the infirmary. He was very careful as he laid the halfa down on Danny’s specific cot, and soon, all of the gathered Bats were quick to cover any white that could be found. Nightwing pressed a button on the wall that changed all the lights to pale blue. Danny’s cot had already been altered from white sheets to pastels like green, pink, and purple. Robin raced around and made sure that the other cots were covered in the spare blankets that they kept for the rare instances that Phantom or Danny had to visit the infirmary. And Hood was busy pulling out the specialty medical supplies that was color-coded for Danny.
Even though he wasn’t injured, or at least, they hoped he wasn’t injured, but with him unconscious, they weren’t taking any chances. Alfred came in and nodded, silently giving his thanks to his charges for prepping the room. He shooed them out of the room so that they could change out of their uniforms and come back to the infirmary to have their own wounds addressed.
Batman merely pulled his cowl back since he hadn’t been involved in the fight with the other ghost. While he had a few bruises, he wasn’t hurt. Nothing that an ice pack could cure. Nightwing, Hood, and Red Robin took quick showers, not wanting to be far from their brother for too long.
Dick was the first to emerge from the showers, and his eye was already starting to swell. He didn’t think his nose was broken, but he’d let Alfred examine it to be sure. Jason and Tim were tied for getting out second, and each looked worse for wear. Tim had several sluggishly bleeding cuts that definitely needed stitches, and he was limping. Dick didn’t remember him getting hit hard enough to break anything, so he was hoping it was either a pulled or strained muscle or nothing worse than a sprain, but then again, it wasn't like he'd been able to track his brothers at all times, and Tim was limping pretty heavily. Jason, on the other hand, looked like damn rainbow, if rainbows came the mottled colors of blue, purple, yellow, and pink bruises. His skin was littered with them.
“Not a word, Dickhead. Not. A. Word,” Jason snarled.
They made their way to the infirmary bickering slightly, although they quieted immediately when they stepped inside. Their eyes locked on the now semi-conscious half-ghost. His eyes were glassy and unfocused but at least they were blue and no longer Lazarus green like they were prone to after a bout like that.
“What the fuck hit me? Did truck-kun finally isekai my ass?” Danny groaned as he finally finished rebooting. Tim snorted at the reference, and Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Danny, chum, I probably already know the answer, but how are you feeling?” Bruce asked instead.
“I feel like absolute trash,” Danny grumbled. But at least this time, he didn’t disconnect any of the wires or monitors that were connected to him. The first time he’d ended up in the Cave’s infirmary he’d panicked so hard, he’d tore out his IV and nearly destroyed the entire area. “But that’s to be expected. I HATE getting souped.”
“Good to see you awake, Master Danny,” Alfred said as he came in to inspect his patient. He left the IV and blood pressure monitor in place but disconnected everything else. “You are slightly dehydrated, and your blood pressure is elevated. I’d like to monitor both for a couple of hours before discharging you,” he said primly.
“What happened?” Danny muttered as he sat back after rearranging his pillows.
Damian propped himself up in the chair next to Danny. He’d taken a liking to the slightly older boy ever since Danny had punched him in the mouth during gym at school. Danny had come to Gotham Academy like a cross between a hurricane and a wrecking ball. Damian had decided to throw hands on sight, for some reason. It was later discovered that Damian was just liminal enough that fighting was saying hello. That same day Damian had dragged Danny home like a drowned stray alley cat claiming that Danny was his new brother and that Bruce needed to adopt him right then.
Bruce, for his part, had heard Danny’s tragic backstory and had acquiesced almost immediately. And when Vladimir Masters had appeared on the scene trying to abduct Danny, and Danny wasn’t have any of that. And well, for Danny the choice was between an evil millionaire fruitloop and a billionaire fruitloop who dressed up as furry and punched criminals at night…and well it wasn’t much of a choice.
“You were attacked by a ghost who called herself Ember,” Damian growled.
Danny snarled, and his eyes flashed green. Fortunately, his family were all used to these causal displays of emotions. It had set them on edge originally, but they’d quickly gotten used to his quirks. Just as quickly as his emotions rose, they subsided. Danny rubbed one of his hands down his face and sighed.
Dick was quick to reassure Danny that Ember was safe in his Thermos and that she could wait until he was feeling better. Danny let his shoulders sag in relief. If Ember was in a Thermos and not running around wreaking havoc in Gotham, then he had time. Time to figure out how he was going to open a portal and get the trouble-maker back to the Ghost Zone. But for now, for the next few hours, she can stay there for the trouble she caused. That’s a Future Danny problem.
Tonight, a hand sank into his. A different one carded through his hair. Someone was humming a soft lullaby. A blanket was wrapped around him. And as exhaustion lulled him to sleep, he was so very glad that he’d ended up in Gotham with his new family.