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Danny laughs as the grapple gun slips from its holster, clattering to the floor.
Jason groans in frustration. He glares at his own hand, flickering in and out of tangibility. Miraculously, his glove stays in place no matter how much his hand switches.
This ghost shit makes no fucking sense.
Danny meanders over to pick up the grapple. He's still chuckling, softer now, moving to hand it back to Jason. As Jason reaches to grab it, Danny raises an eyebrow and pulls it just out of reach. Danny looks pointedly down at Jason's extended hand.
Jason, irritated and confused, follows Danny's gaze. He groans.
Jason, somehow already forgetting the still-intangible state of his hand, brings it up to drag it down over his face. Danny begins to laugh again as Jason's hand goes straight through his head.
"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, chuckles," Jason grumbles.
"I will," Danny replies, delighted. "I never understood what could possibly be so funny when my friends laughed at me whenever I struggled with my powers back in high school, but now that I've watched you try to holster your grapple at least three times now—I think I get it."
Jason continues to scowl. Danny's laugh dies down, but there's still a soft smile on his face. "Try again," he says, warm.
Jason takes a breath, looking anywhere but his offending hand and anywhere but Danny. The other's patience as Jason struggles with his ghostly abilities makes Jason feel off-kilter. It's training unlike Jason has ever experienced before—on multiple fronts. Never before has he had to confront his emotions this much for the sake of "training."
Ghosts are emotional beings, my ass, Jason thinks. He's a Bat, for fuck's sake, they don't do that shit.
Grumbling, Jason sticks his hand back out and lets his eyes fall shut. He takes another breath, tries to ground himself in the moment.
Jason opens his eyes and closes his hand just as Danny places the grapple gun into Jason's waiting grasp. Jason tries not to think too much about how in sync they've been lately. There will be moments when no words pass between them, but it's as if Jason can understand Danny perfectly, and Danny seems to understand Jason in turn. Or moments like these, when they anticipate each other's movements and act in tandem. It's the kind of synchronization only achieved after years of training and working together. Jason and Danny haven't known each other nearly that long.
"Did you think solid thoughts?" Danny quips.
Jason, very pointedly, does not answer as he shoves the gun into the holster at his hip and fixes Danny with a glare. No way Jason's admitting that essentially what he did. Danny laughs again, as if he knows anyway. Goddamn synchronization. And there's something more genuine to Danny's laugh, this time. If Jason were more foolish, he might say it was fond. Jason looks down at the holster, where his grapple gun sits snugly in place.
"Well," Danny says, still smiling, "if you need any support, Phantom will be tailing you."
Jason can't help but notice how every time Danny talks about his ghost form, he talks like Phantom is a separate entity from Danny—not part of who he is. What kind of name is 'halfa' when you don't even treat the half as part of the whole?
Jason shakes out his hair as if to tidy it before slipping on his helmet. If the shake just so happens to also be Jason's attempt at quelling his thoughts, Danny doesn't have to know.
Jason looks back at Danny. Still smiling. Jason's come to learn Danny can hide a lot behind a single smile. Nevertheless, Jason nods. He's got work to do.
Danny can't see it, but hidden behind the mask, Jason can't help but smile back. Even if just a little.
"I'll see you out there, boo."