Chapter Text
“I’m going to tell you a story,” twelve-year-old Jazz had said, “It begins like this: there is a boat called the Ship of Theseus. But because it was dilapidating-”
“What?” past Danny interrupted.
“Breaking apart,” Jazz was using that haughty voice she always used when she thought she knew better, “So they replaced all its old parts with newer parts.”
Present Danny looked up at the preserved Wayne Manor and wondered how much was untouched. The weathervane coated in shiny black paint, the bricks decorated with trimmed ivy, the polished windows reflecting mid-afternoon sunlight. A wayward landmark in a city of warring highrises.
"Danny," Tim tilted his head, expression suggesting ‘What are you up to now?’ "You coming?"
“Yeah, one sec.” He took his first official step into the grounds, clutching his pink gift-wrapped begonias tighter. It felt like crossing a boundary into a lair. ‘Welcome’, the space seemed to say, ‘Welcome to all I have preserved’.
Tim navigated the walkway up the stairs in practiced motion, buzzing the doorbell once. One of the oak double doors creaked open.
"Ah, Master Tim, Master Daniel. You're here early." A butler in a three-piece suit greeted them with a deep nod, “Master Wayne bids you welcome.”
"Oh, it's Danny actually," he stepped in after Tim, craning his neck to trace the grand balustrade lining the foyer complete with majestic ten-foot paintings. Old money, Sam would say. She also had a few other choice words about entitlement and wealth disparity, but Danny still felt completely out of his league. In a single rigid motion, he handed over the begonias. "Thank you for having us uh-"
"Alfred," the butler said, thankfully more casual than Hobson, "Thank you for the thoughtful gift."
“Thanks, you too.” Danny belatedly kicked himself in the metaphorical shin. “Wait, no, I didn’t actually mean you too for the gift, I meant like… thank you for thanking me?”
The corners of Alfred’s eyes crinkled. “I appreciate you clarifying, Master Danny.”
“Alfred,” Tim interrupted before Danny could dig his own hole deeper, “How has the greenhouse project been going? I heard you needed some help moving the fertilizer?”
“Nothing I cannot handle, though I appreciate the thought,” Alfred cordially answered, easily transitioning into a conversation about humane weed-whacking practices as they turned into a long corridor.
With Tim taking control of the conversation again, Danny had ample time to circle back to his Big Problem.
The Batcave.
He had been invited to the Batcave before, purely for business. In fact, he distinctly remembered thinking ‘Wow, Batman's cool Batcave sure is weirdly close to this megamansion!’ Only he didn’t know the megamansion was Wayne Manor, owned by megabillionaire Bruce Wayne. Tim had also never directly stated ‘By the way, Batman is Bruce Wayne’ so was Danny breaching some sort of Justice League etiquette by knowing? Wasn’t there a superhero bro code? Did he-
"Master Danny, we have arrived at the dining hall." Alfred waited patiently at the entrance.
The dining hall housed an old brick fireplace and stained brass chandelier, impressive yet homely in the notches in the doorframe and the scuffs in the tiles. Belatedly, Danny followed Tim to one side of the twelve seat table, idly searching for pictures of his boyfriend in the family portraits along the walls. Two-pronged candles separated the table into natural partitions, each seat prepared with three handfuls cutlery, and exactly four different fancy napkins.
"Master Wayne and Damian are returning from an unexpected call and will be with us shortly," Alfred placed a fancier plate on top of Danny's existing plate, "Would you like anything to drink, some tea while we wait?"
'Unexpected call' had to mean Bruce as Batman work, but since Danny wasn't supposed to know, he pretended to be very interested in the shiny new plate as Tim pressed specific mission details. Tune it out. Plausible deniability - he couldn't be implicated for what he didn't know.
-"Should learn how to take a break and leave it to us sometimes," Tim was saying, arguing really.
"I am well aware," Alfred continued dryly, "My apologies we extended an invite on such a... busy day."
Tim made a noncommittal hm. "Is it just you home today?"
"I’m afraid so."
Danny half-stood up. "Did you want any help?"
"I will be just fine, Master Danny."
"Are you sure? I'm good with dishes and putting stuff away." He ignored his boyfriend making a so-so gesture to Alfred.
"I promise, it is nothing I cannot handle, and you wouldn't deprive an old man of his fun."
Danny sat back down and fidgeted, folding and refolding his cloth napkin back onto the table because he wasn't raised on no manners, when a pair of light footsteps approached.
"Sorry I'm late." With surprising fluidity, Bruce's towering frame slid towards the front of the table, casting a deep silhouette. Like a second shadow, Damian - Robin - took a seat next to Bruce, a frown set on a well-groomed face.
Tim shrugged. "Late is better than never."
Bruce faced Tim, but his eyes tracked Danny. Apex predator behaviour, assessing any and all threats. "Thank you both for coming."
Instinctively, Danny looked down, doing a double-take at the sudden bowl of soup on his plate. "Uh, it's no problem B- I mean Mr. Wayne, glad to be here." Why were there so many spoons, help, which one was for the soup again? He grabbed the smallest one next to the teacup. "Thank you for inviting me to your, uh, very nice house."
"Please, it's my pleasure," Bruce grabbed a different spoon for the soup, "I hope you don't mind a more casual setting to finally talk."
Talk about what? Frantically, Danny glanced at Tim.
"Take it easy with the questions B," Tim had picked the same spoon as Bruce, traitor, "You don't want to scare Danny."
"Yes," Damian repeated both flat and sarcastic, "You wouldn't want to scare your boyfriend."
Bruce smiled thinly. "I'm sure Danny is more than capable of sharing that information himself. Consider it incident prevention."
“What kind of incident prevention?” he blurted before he could stop himself. Surely, that didn’t mean-
“Ghost-related incidents,” Bruce continued as if he was casually talking about the weather, “Though activity has been notably quiet after the cult summonings.”
Danny could have sworn Clockwork had popped a spacetime distortion just to fuck with him personally as he calculated every interaction between Bruce as Batman and Danny as well, Danny. If he shouldn’t know Bruce was Batman, then at no point should Bruce as not Batman know Danny was a ghost, therefore they shouldn't be having conversation about ghosts right? Right? Time to take a page out of Tim's vague answers book, "There may have or may have not been."
"As in, there's more?" Bruce pressed, practically boring a hole into Danny's pea soup.
"No! I mean uhhhh from my sources, allegedly, no." Stop asking.
"What sources exactly, Danny?"
"My," he frantically scoured his soup for answers, "My… boss?" Technically, he was employed by the Realms.
The room fell silent, and Danny tried his best to ignore Bruce silently mouthing ‘What boss?’ to Tim. It was a little more difficult to ignore Damian’s cat-green eyes staring unblinkingly at Danny this entire exchange as if Danny was simultaneously the most interesting and disgusting thing to have graced Wayne Manor and maybe all of Gotham in extension.
"If it isn’t too much trouble then," Bruce continued, "Can you explain to me the general hierarchy of the Realms?”
This was going to be a torturously long dinner wasn't it? "I think- I mean I read. Somewhere. That, in the book I mean, they have a… sort of like a power-based system?"
Bruce paused. "Where did you read this?"
Now his own boyfriend was giving him a dumbfounded stare. Tim, say something.
"A power-based system," Bruce continued musing, "So the stronger the ghost, the higher their position, making the crowned King one of the strongest, is that not correct?"
"Maybe," Definitely Not Ghost King Danny said, resisting the urge to fiddle with his rings, "I mean who knows! Ha ha, how mysterious."
"How mysterious," Damian repeated, a class S shit-stirrer.
"Thank you Danny," Bruce smoothed over, "I know it's not easy sharing this information with non-humans but I appreciate you putting your foot forward."
"Oh uh yeah, of course Mr. Wayne! Only my best foot forward. A real human foot, from me, a human."
Tim set his second cup of coffee down. "Danny. You do know that-"
"Did you hear that Drake," Damian interrupted for some reason, "Danny is a real human."
Damian, why are you outing me like this? He was putting his neck on the line here for the sake of their identities, resisting the urge to wipe his clammy forehead with the fancy cloth napkin thing he just unfolded and re-folded and unfolded again. "Yep that's me anyway, um, why are you so interested in ghosts, Mr. Wayne?"
"You can call me Bruce," Mr. Wayne said politely. He turned pensive, probably. "I'm here to, and in the event of a threat, be able to help."
Danny imagined a world where Batman fought Skulker, "I’ll... make sure that doesn't happen."
"Make sure, or guarantee?"
"Make sure?" he all but squeaked. At some point Alfred had taken pity on Danny and swapped his neglected soup for this leafy salad thing with red beets and mushrooms and something else he was sure Sam would have loved. "I mean I can help you helping?"
Bruce nodded. "That would be ideal."
Were they even having the same conversation? Desperately, Danny turned to his boyfriend for advice yet again.
"Danny's been good about communicating recently," Tim said diplomatically, picking the mushrooms off the salad, "I think you two would work great together."
What? "You mean uh, um as-" Friends? No way too personal. Researchers? No, why would billionaire Bruce Wayne be studying ghosts? "Oh like, as a consultant?"
“I have already paid your consultation fees for the ghost bats and am happy to discuss further opportunities," Bruce agreed diplomatically.
No, Batman had paid Danny, quite generously actually, to deal with the ghost bats hiding in the Batcave, not Totally Normal Billionaire Bruce Wayne. Either Danny had to come clean, and admit he knew Bruce was Batman, or he could do what he did best and deflect. "If they are ghost bats, how can you see them?"
Dead silence.
"It was funny, I liked your joke."
Danny banged both his knees loudly against the table then winced at the noise. "How- what- how did you-"
"Cass," said the magically appearing person with a slight nod.
"She does that," Tim said in still-bored monotone, "I don't know how she does that."
Damian for some reason scoffed. Cass immediately traded her salad with Tim’s who was now eating two salads - why - oh right Tim was going through a health phase, which was probably the only normal, mundane thing happening right now.
“So Danny,” Bruce started up again, sending another jolt of anxiety up Danny’s spine, “When is a good time for-”
- A door Danny didn’t even know existed from the other end of the dining hall slammed open.
“Well look who it is,” said a clearly up-to-no-good Jason Todd, giving Danny a wide, toothy smile.
It was slowly sinking in that those seven other empty chairs weren’t just for show. "Jason?”
“What a coincidence,” Jason sat exactly two seats away from Damian directly across from Danny, forearms slamming onto the table with a solid thud, “Thought you said you were busy today.”
"I am busy! I already said we could watch 'Wuthering Heights'," Danny added the airquotes, "Some other time. Does it have to be today?"
"You promised, we made a schedule, I highlighted a day. Do you know how busy I am?"
"Listen, uh, can we talk about this later-"
"I think it’s getting late," Tim interrupted, glaring daggers at Jason, “Danny is probably tired after a long day and-”
”No, it’s okay!” He did not want to be the reason Tim’s family dinner was ruined. It would be nice to be invited back some day, even if he didn’t want to actually come back. “I just- wait, why are you here again?”
“Todd, Drake’s boyfriend is explaining to us the ghost hierarchy system,” Damian said with impeccable timing as always.
"Oh really," Jason leaned forward, way past passive-aggressive into full aggressive, "Tell me more about this cool ghost hierarchy system."
Did Jason even know that Bruce knew that Danny knew about Jason? Did Cass know about Jason knowing about Danny knowing about Bruce? Why were there additional layers to this already complicated equation? He needed to ask, he had to ask. “Is-”
“Jay,” Bruce suddenly said, “I didn’t know you were dropping by today.”
Jason snorted. "I'm here for Tim and Danny, and nothing else.”
Bruce’s shoulders dipped. “Alright.”
“Alright,” Jason challenged, kicking both his feet on the table, only to tuck his legs back under the tablecloth the moment Alfred glared at him.
Cass shook her head, once. “Jason. Be nice.”
“What was that?” Jason’s eyes flashed, “You picking a fight with me?”
“Bring it.” Cass leaned forward.
“Can we-” Tim said at the same time, taking a moment to look at Bruce who was looking right at Tim, “Okay can we take a moment to calm down and talk about this?”
"We are talking about this," Jason reminded Danny of a lion crouching half-hidden in the grass. Cass mirrored the body language.
Tim picked up spike in tension. "Seriously, Jason, calm the fuck down."
“I am the epitome of calm,” Jason roared, lunging across the table.
Pandemonium. Cutlery and dishes jostled left and right like an off-beat drum solo. Tim leapt to intercept Jason, as Cass jumped two seats backwards. Damian made some sort of disparaging tt noise, while Bruce, having finally recovered, was in the middle of a sentence that sounded an awfully lot like ‘What did I do wrong?’
Seizing the opportunity, Danny also stood up. If he was going to tell the truth and prevent more miscommunication and bloodshed from happening, this had to be the moment. “I know Bruce Wayne is-”
-Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Jason and Tim bowling right into him.
Danny nursed his forehead, lounging dramatically on the Batcave R&D lab bench. The pain was purely psychological, but both he and his anxiety on full blast were not going back upstairs. “So, you all knew I knew, and nobody bothered to tell me?”
Tim grimaced. “You just sounded so confident, I thought for sure we were on the same page.”
He bit his tongue from saying something he was going to regret. It wasn’t Tim’s fault that Batman was so paranoid; it wasn’t even Tim’s fault for the dinner, Danny had been the one to offer in the first place because every time his boyfriend talked about his family he sounded hurt.
Tim sighed deeply, “I’m sorry. I messed up big time.”
“No-” Danny immediately defended, sitting up. “Tim, listen, I wanted to come here. I offered.”
“But I knew what that meant. That they were going to drill you with questions.”
“And I made that choice. Besides, this doesn’t even phase me compared to what I’ve been through.”
“Good, because I still require answers.” Bruce looked out of place without his uniform in his own Batcave. "Consider it a protective measure for you and for us.”
Danny sighed. "Mr. Wayne-"
-"Bruce."
"Uh, Bruce, I’ve already told you everything I could have, and I even filled out your incident report thingy last time."
“What about yourself?”
”What do you mean?” Danny had been upfront about that too hadn’t he?
Bruce pulled out a document that just happened to be in a folder he was holding. "Incident 3A - July 15th - an unexpected glowing entity with cryogenic abilities spotted on Gotham Harbour Pier 8. Incident 15C - August 8th - locals reported a large shadow-like shape around Norman and 1st following a sudden drop in temperature. Incident 1A, September 14th - scientists and astrophysicists baffled at a solar eclipse caused by what could only be explained as a 'freak cosmic anomaly'.”
“B,” Tim interrupted, “You’ve worked with Danny before. He’s worked with you several times now.”
“Then there is no harm with Danny sharing the full scope of his abilities.”
Danny frowned, already thrown off by the incident reports and the knowledge more was in that folder. “What, like a handy list of my strengths and weaknesses?”
"Consider it preparation.” Bruce’s tone was impossible to delineate from his alter ego, "I need to know if you have our best interests at hand in the event of further ghost-related incidents."
"I hope it doesn't come off as rude Mr. W- I mean Bruce," he said slowly, well aware that saying that was going to come off as rude, "I'm always happy to help, really, but I can’t just pick a side."
Bruce lowered the folder. "Is that a threat?"
Infuriating, but expected. Danny stood his ground - he could never give what wasn't his to give. "No, I mean, I can help you when it comes to, what you call ghost ‘incidents’, but I can't pick you over them." Both Bruce and Tim looked ready to contradict, Danny quickly continued- “And I won’t pick them over you."
"What does that mean exactly?"
'You are the arbiter,' a long Observant finger pointed at him, 'If the Realms is threatened, you will protect it.'
'Rejoice, young king the balance kept,’ Clockwork opened the timelines lost, ‘And all that you have prevented.’
He levelled his gaze with Bruce. "It means we are fighting for the same damn thing.”
“I don't like this story,” ten-year-old Danny had said, "It doesn't make any sense."
"It's an allegory, technically," Jazz enunciated each syllable in 'allegory'. “And it's not supposed to make sense, it's supposed to be a question. When something gets old, you replace it. But if you replace all of it, is it even the Ship of Theseus anymore?”
'You're the one who thinks it's different', past Danny defended, 'It was always the same boat'.