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Danny and Sam are on the run after rescuing Danielle from the GIW. They had forced her into her core, a testamentto how much damage was done. However, once they were safe and far away thanks to Tucker, she reformed as an infant.
They are now living new lives with new identities in a small aptly named Kansas town. They are just starting to make things work with Danny making money by fixing old farm equipment and Sam training to be a nurse.
Then a member of the Justice league knocks on their door in civvies, and they panic dash for their go bags.
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DP x DC prompt #239
Amity Park has sent many messages and SOSs to the Justice League in hopes that they can help with the ghost problem. Even Danny, as Phantom, sent multiple messages to the Justice League. But after Pariah Dark, Danny stopped. He had to deal with a world ending threat without the help of the Justice League, so they can screw themselves in his, and many other Amity Park citizens, opinion.
What they don't know is that the media black out over Amity Park prevented the Justice League from receiving any messages from the town and its hero. So when the media blackout is finally over, the Justice League is flooded with hundreds of unanswered requests for help from a single town in mid-western America.
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Every word that starts with an N should have a silent G in front. Gnorway. Gnuclear. Gnervous system. Gnipples.
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DPxDC Urgent Call
"I need your phone."
Tim looks up from his laptop. The boy in front of him looks like he's been dragged to Hell a week ago and just made it back: smudges of soot on his face, his not-so-white t-shirt smelling of smoke, and a nasty looking burn on his hand that he somehow doesn't even pay attention to. Tim thinks back to his mental list of 'Rogues currently on the loose', but it's only Ivy and Harley (who don't even count anymore), and Penguin, who is not known for setting things on fire.
"I can call 911 for you, if you want?" He offers, because this is still Gotham. Despite the fact that a slightly scorched guy casually walking into a coffee shop is not something out of the ordinary here, he's not giving his phone to strangers.
The guy grimaces and starts aggressively rummaging through his pockets.
"No, thanks, ACAB and all that, and they won't do shit here anyway," he says, and then pulls a handful of tangled golden jewelry — rings, chains, necklaces with various gems in them — from his pocket and places it on the table in front of Tim. "I need your phone," he repeats.
Tim stares. First, at the gold — these things look antique, and his parents were archeologists, he knows what he's talking about — then, back at the guy. He looks... ordinary, sans the dirt and smell.
But the burn on his hand looks significantly more healed than it did just a minute ago.
Thankfully, Tim has already had his cup of morning coffee. Which means he is thinking very rationally when he does get his phone out of his pocket and hands it to the guy, just to see what he does next.
"Thanks," the guy grins at him, plucking the phone out of Tim's hand and unlocking it. Tim's eyebrows shoot up — there's a password there! — but the stranger is already dialing in a number and pressing the phone to his ear.
It takes less than a second before someone evidently picks up, and the guy starts talking.
"I have less than three minutes before the phone dies, so listen very carefully. Etrigan is fine, Jason is not, Klarion is still being a bitch. Dora won't help anymore, so you're on your own until Sam makes it there with the staff. I'm in Gotham because, apparently, mazes and I don't mix well together, so if you could summon me back, that'd be cool," he says, a look of mild annoyance on his face.
Tim is back to staring at him. He recognizes some of the names, and, well, one could have been an oddity, two a coincidence, but three is a pattern.
"The fuck you mean you can't, I gave you the incantation two months ago!" The guy raises his voice, his foot tapping on the floor in frustration. "Do you think I just go around giving my summons to people for shits and giggles? Like, yeah, have a spell that unleashes a cosmic being of immeasurable power, use it as a bookmark!"
This interaction, despite Tim only hearing one side of it, gets more and more alarming with every word.
But then, the boy suddenly straightens up and stills, his eyes flashing bright, unpleasantly familiar green.
"You what?" He asks, his voice slipping from just angry to quietly enraged hiss, "Sold it to whom?!" But, before he gets an answer, Tim's phone makes a thin, tiny buzzing sound, and the guy takes it off his ear, looking at the screen.
"No, no-no-no," he mutters, shaking it like that would make it work. To no avail, though: the phone screen flashes a few times and goes black. The guy curses. At least Tim thinks it's a curse because he doesn't understand a word, but the stranger's face and intonation are telling.
"Useless fucking moron of a human, I swear I'm going to drown you in cow shit once this is over," he switches to English, dropping the phone on the table right by the small pile of gold, "I'll bargain your pathetic soul from everyone you've ever dealt with and give it to the Observants, and maybe, after a few millenia of endless Council paperwork, I'll have mercy and sell it back to Lucifer and watch him fry you on a skillet."
...Whoever the boy is, Tim absolutely refuses to ever piss him off, okay. That's an impressive threat to even make, not to mention being able to go through with it.
"Do you need help?" He asks cautiously. If he is getting his context clues right, this is something that involves JLD, and maybe John Constantine specifically since Tim doesn't know any other man who is a magic user, sold his soul numerous times, would care about Etrigan's wellbeing, and could invoke this kind of murderous intent.
The boy looks back at him, his eyes back to normal blue.
"Huh? Oh, no, I doubt this can be helped," he waves Tim off and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Sorry about the phone, but, unless you have a way to yeet me across the globe so I end up in London in the next twenty minutes..." he shrugs, smiling in that helpless 'nothing you can do here' way.
Tim picks up his phone. It's dead, wholly and completely, won't even turn on when he tries.
He really, really shouldn't do that. This is definitely none of his business, and very much out of his capabilities and area of expertise.
But he thinks about the zeta-tube in the Cave.
"Actually," he says, and the guy's eyes snap back to him, a bewildered sort of surprise on his face.
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Constantine’s apprentice
“Whose sidekick is this?” Barry asks.
Everyone in the watchtower turns to look at the skinny, black-haired teenager sitting patiently in the corner. He’s got big round blue eyes, and smiles and waves at the heroes when they look at him. He would be perfect bat-bait if he weren’t also the picture of innocence.
(Every Robin in existence has had an unmistakable aura of menace around them.)
That wide-eyed innocence is precisely why it’s such a surprise when the kid answers “I’m here with John Constantine”
“John Constantine?” Zattana asks, bewildered and worried all at once. She knows better than most how it feels to be burned by Constantine, and is instantly angry on the kid’s behalf.
“Someone call?” The man himself asks, as he steps into the room, bag of chips in hand.
“Why do you have an apprentice?” Zattana demands, accusatory.
John tsks and frowns, directing his next words towards the teen in question, “I told you no, kid.” Then he turns back to Zattana and the room at large, and says, “I’m dropping this kid off here. He’s being hunted by the US feds. Hole in the meta human rights bill. He is not,” John’s eyes slide back over to the kid, “my apprentice.”
The kid (and someone should really ask his name, sooner or later) frowns and crosses his arms. Now he looks more like a Robin.
“And why not?” He whines. “You’ve been teaching me just fine so far. I haven’t even been that annoying!”
“Son, no,” Hal Jordan speaks up from the back. “You’re lucky to have made it this far, you don’t want to spend any more time in Constantine’s company than necessary.”
Zattana nods and says, “he’s got a habit of sacrificing others. It’s usually for the greater good, but still… you don’t want to be the nearest convenient sacrifice.”
“Really feeling the love in here.” John mutters.
“Well… it’s true, isn’t it?” Dick shrugs apologetically.
“Not to mention you’re just a bad role model in general.” Hal tacks on with a shit-eating grin.
“Is that all?” The kid asks.
“Do you… need more?” Dick asks. “Betrayal in a life-or-death situation isn’t a small thing, kiddo.”
The kid (and really, someone needs to ask his name. And also get the report on that hole in the meta rights) just looks at John with a supremely unimpressed expression. “Y’know I haven’t been relying on you for my safety this whole time, right? We were always safe, I just stuck with you to learn magic.”
“Danny, what the hell,” John says.
Ah, so the increasingly-more-Robin-like kid’s name was Danny. Good to know.
Danny shrugs, and says with a smug smile, “the night before we left Amity Park, I contacted an omniscient time-god from another dimension and blackmailed them into giving me forewarning for any dangerous situations I might get into. I think the specific wording was ‘enough forewarning to be able to escape any situation resulting in my death, capture, torture, loss of powers, or sanity.’”
The watchtower is completely silent for a count of three.
Then Dick snorts.
“Did… did John Constantine get conned?” Barry asks with glee.
“God I hope so…” Zattana breathes.
“I really appreciate you taking me this whole way, though.” Danny says to John. “I definitely want to get a few autographs.” He says with an innocent smile.
It’s at this moment that it sinks in for the whole room that a kid tricked John Constantine into traipsing across some portion of America with him for no reason.
Hal doubles over laughing.
“You’ve been blackmailing a god this whole time?” John checks, face blank.
“Uh huh,”
“You were able to trick an omniscient being, and now have struck a deal for divine intervention any time you’re in danger?”
“Yup,” Danny pops the ‘p’
“You’ve been wheedling magic lessons out of me for weeks with the full knowledge that my only reason for sticking around — to safely get you to the watchtower — was a complete waste of my time because you are effectively safe for the rest of your life in every situation forever?”
“Uh, yes? To be clear, Clockwork won’t intervene in situations where I can handle it myself. But if I’m ever in over my head, then they’ll show me a solution.”
The room is filled with poorly concealed grins, and not-at-all concealed appraising looks. After a long moment, John finally throws his hands up in the air.
“Fine!” He says, exasperated. “I guess you’re my apprentice!”
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Never been more thankful to have SomewheresSwords Lily's Boy downloaded. It's a glorious 1633 pages which surely will last till the end of the war
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Lots of realy cute cats. Last one is one funky cool cat
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My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.
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