#danny doesn’t explain yet and tim doesn’t ask

[avayarising]

Thing is, things won’t have got this far without someone doing a DNA test on Danny.

That someone was Tim, right at the start. Because if someone’s out there cloning him, then Tim wants to know. (And odds are it’s Ra’s, who has Tim’s spleen.) They quickly establish that each of them has a full life’s worth of memories, but Tim still wants to do the test. It could be time-travel, or a separated-at-birth situation.

But Danny’s reluctant, because he knows it will reveal his ghostly nature. Tim can tell that he’s scared and figures he’s worried about revealing something. He reckons he can give a little to get a little. (Besides, if Danny turns out to be an evil clone, he probably already knows a lot about them anyway, so there’s no point hiding.)

“Don’t worry,” he says, “we already have a meta and a zombie in the family. Whatever’s in your blood, we won’t care.”

Danny queries ‘zombie’, Tim tells him the bare minimum about Jason, and Danny almost collapses with relief right there. If they have a zombie, Tim surely won’t mind if he’s a half-ghost. Maybe Bruce Wayne won’t either.

Tim draws Danny’s blood for the test.

“You’ve got a lot of ectoplasm in your blood,” says Tim casually. “Did you used to be a ghost?”

“Used to be?”

“One of my best friends used to be a ghost. We hid her from the government for nearly two years.”

“Then what happened to her?” asks Danny, nervously.

“Oh, she got brought back to life. She’s still got some ectoplasm in her blood though. We keep an eye on it.”

They do the test. It’s not a match.

Danny might be distantly related – second cousin sort of level perhaps – but he’s definitely not a clone.

“Oh,” says Danny, disappointed. There goes his chance of getting Bruce Wayne as a dad.

Tim grins, and wipes the DNA data, replacing it with his own.

“Oh, look at that,” he says. “You’re my clone. Guess I’m responsible for you now.”

Danny is not enjoying the homeless runaway lifestyle.

He would be the first to admit he was a bit of a cleanfreak, it was a side effect of growing up with mad scientist parents who would often place bottles of dangerous chemicals among bottles of fruit juice thier children had in the fridge. He grown into the habit of sorting through things as a means of survival.

Its not that he hated clutter, its that he hated mess and disorganization and feeling dirty. All of which he was feeling now.

So when Danny saw Brucie Wayne from the TV shop window of the dirty Gotham street he was on, he froze. This tall, dark haired blue eyed man was a jolly idiot. He was just like his dad. He had never seen anyone act like his dad before and he missed him so so much. And what do you know.. this guy collect black haired blue eyed kids like pokemon cards. And well...Danny was a child who had recently lost everything. His family, his friends, his home and desperately seeking out anything familiar.

So Danny starts following Bruce around trying to clean up after him and take care of him like he did with Jack Fenton in hopes of showing Bruce how useful he can be, but the amount of help Bruce needed was surprisingly low and what little he needed was swiftly taken care of by the butler and children he already had before Danny could even react.

Danny needed a new plan...

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“I’m having a child.”

Danny stared at Batman.

“…Uh, congrats?”

Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”

Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”

Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.

“I mean- I have parents!”

“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”

Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”

“They’re still… alive?”

“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.

“I see.”

“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”

Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.

“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.

“Of course. Tell me everything.”

The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.

Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.

——

“Hey, Tim?”

Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”

“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”

Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”

Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”

“You… want to confront Batman.”

“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”

“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.

“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”

“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.

“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”

Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”

Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”

“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”

“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”

“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.

Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.

“Jason regularly showers, though?!”

“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”

“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”

“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”

“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”

“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”

“Danny, what the fuck?”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”

“Hey!”

“Soul-stinky nerd man!”

——

“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.

“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”

“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”

“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.

“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”

“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.

“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.

“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.

“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.

“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.

[clockwayswrites]

One birdritch, two stones.

part idk, 10? I'm so tired. masterpost

“Mr. Drake-Wayne, do I want to know why you’re here?” Lucius drawled without looking up from his desk.

Tim plastered on a smile anyways. “Well, in an effort to learn the business as part of my internship, I thought that it was about time that I took a proper look at R&D.”

“Yes, it would be good for you to see R&D,” Lucius said as he signed something with a flourish before he folded his hands and looked up at Tim, “but you are not going to.”

“No?”

“No.”

Tim let the door close behind him and came to flop into the seat across from Lucius. “Uncle Fox—”

“That worked much better when you were small and doe-eyed.”

“Okay, let’s be honest,” Tim said with a sigh, “I’m still small and doe-eyed. None of them will let me live that fact down. I have to use what I have, Lu.”

Finally Lucius cracked a little bit of a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a discrete button on his desk. Tim knew that the button would make the office soundproof, an effect that Tim felt in the back of his ears.

“Danny Fenton— and let me be clear, it is Danny, not Daniel— Danny Fenton is one of the best people I have in R&D. I will not have you all losing me one of my best because you lot do not know how how to be subtle.”

“Lucius, we can be subtle!” Tim said, honestly offended. “We do subtle all the time. You know how well I do undercover.”

“Exactly,” Lucius said severely.

Tim tilted his head.

“Undercover you is subtle. Tim Drake-Wayne you is a menace,” Lucius said. “That last name is a pox upon common sense.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue before he slowly closed it and slumped back into his seat.

“I had been considering bringing him as the engineer for the other side of you all,” Lucius said, almost idly, “but whatever happened spooked him. He booked the end of the week off. Mr. Fenton never takes time off. Whatever you are after it will wait until after he returns, understand?”

“Understood,” Tim said with resignation.

-

The only reason that Danny didn’t screech and drop the component he was holding was because he was used to ghosts. The person who had appeared sitting on top of Danny’s cabinet like they had always been there wasn’t a ghost, but the behavior was close enough. Danny took a steadying breath and set the part carefully on one of his work benches.

“Hello.”

The off person smiled cheerfully and brought their right hand up into an almost salute.

Danny tilted his head for a moment before he brain kicked in and he repeated the motion back before pointing to the person then tapping his index to his chin and then next to his ear while purposefully screwing his face up into confusion.

They shook their head and brought their hand to their throat, turning it like they were locking a key, before making a so-so motion with their hand.

“Oh! Okay, I’m Danny,” he explained as he pointed to himself and brought his right hand in the sign for d up along his flat left hand.

They repeated Danny’s name sign with a cheerful smile before they pointed to themselves and moved the cupped hand of C over their flat left hand. They repeated the point before finger spelling out ‘Cass’.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Cass. I’m rusty at ASL, but if you can go slow for me, I’ll try my best.”

“Thank you,” Cass signed with a bright smile.

“Are you lost, or do you mean to be up there?” Danny asked.

Cass shook their head. “Comfortable. What is that?”

“Oh, what I’m working on. Well… nothing yet, not if it doesn’t work. It’s supposed to be something for improved water filtration though.”

“Explain?”

“Sure. Tap twice on the cabinet if you need my attention or have a question and I’m not looking your way, okay?” Danny asked. He waited for a nod before he grabbed what he was working on and started explaining the idea.

Thankfully the fact that WE was working on a way to further reduce industrial water pollution was no secret so as long as Danny didn’t get particularity technical, he shouldn’t get in trouble with with his NDA. Besides, whoever this was was inside a secure part of WE and did have a badge, even if it wasn’t colors that Danny recognized off the top of his head.

Cass was oddly fun to chat with and the two of them got into a rhythm of him explaining something and following it up with a question of his own. Cass did give verbal responses or reactions occasionally, but mostly Danny settled into a position where he could both work and watch them sign in his periphery at the same time. He wasn’t perfect at understanding what Cass was talking about, but they seemed happy enough to repeat things for him or finger spell when he was really lost.

“A lead role? You should be really proud of yourself, Cass! That’s amazing,” Danny said with a bright smile as he fought a stubborn tapper.

“You will come?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“The recital,” Cass finger spelled out before repeated, “You will come?”

“I don’t know, Cass honey,” Danny said, the endearment slipping out without him thinking about it. “That would really depend on what your adults have to say about the idea. I don’t want them to freak out because you’ve decided to befriend a random R&D flunky.”

“Luckily Cass is a very good judge of character,” said someone from behind Danny.

Fucking hell, what was it with people just appearing today? Danny gave himself a second to close his eyes before he set down his tapper and turned around.

Ancients that’s Bruce Wayne.

“I hope she hasn’t been bothering you. Cass was supposed to wait in my office while I dealt with the emergency,” Mr. Wayne said with a pointed look at his daughter. “Even if it did take longer than expected.”

Right daughter, because Danny had been talking with Cassandra Wayne for the last few hours.

“Oh, no, not at all Mr. Wayne—”

“Bruce.”

“Bruce. And don’t worry, she’s great company,” Danny said.

Mr. Wayne— Bruce chuckled and stepped into Danny’s office. He’d hardly moved before Cass was flinging herself off the cabinet and into her dad’s arms. As soon as she was set down, she started signing rapidly at him and Danny looked away to give them some privacy.

“Well, that is up to your new friend,” Bruce said in that sort of tone that Danny knew he was being included in the conversation now.

“Danny Fenton, but just Danny is fine,” he said.

Cass signed Danny’s name sign.

“Or that,” Danny agreed with a nod.

“Well, Danny,” Bruce said with a smile that made his eyes crinkle a little, “if you’d like, Cass would love to have you at the opening so you can see what she’s been telling you about, but if you’re busy we’d understand.”

Cass’ pout said otherwise and Danny caved quicker than a paper cocktail umbrella in a tornado. “If you can send me the date and where to buy a ticket, I’ll be there.”

“Nonsense, the ticket is on me,” Bruce said. “I’ll be sure to send you the date and time, I doubt Cass will let me forget.”

“No,” Cass signed with an overly angelic smile.

Danny chuckled and couldn’t help but wonder if all of Bruce’s children had him so thoroughly wrapped around their finger like that, or if Cass had only daughter privileges. “Well, I look forward to it. And it was very nice to get to meet you, Cass.”

“Yes! Goodbye, Danny,” Cass signed.

“Goodbye, Cass,” Danny signed back and returned the little nod Bruce sent him before they left Danny’s office.

Danny waited until they were out of sight to let out a breath. Ancients, well, that was something. Who would have thought that the first time he actually spoke to the owner of the company would be because his daughter decided water filtration was interesting an that Danny needed to learn all about ‘Swan Lake’ in return?

-

“Cass, darling,” Bruce said with a pointed look at his too smug daughter.

“He’s nice,” she explained with a shrug.

Bruce just sighed and shook his head. At least that did seem true. Bruce had watched some of the exchange between Danny and Cass and he was patient, respectful, and attentive even despite the occasional communication issue.

But that hardly answered any of what was going on.

“Just don’t overwhelm him, alright?”

Cass nodded and crossed her heart.

Bruce didn’t believe her for a moment.

---

AN: I did my best to describe the signs right/use the right ones but my knowledge is only very, very basic conversational skills so if I have anything wrong, please let me know! (I write Cass very to the point response wise when she verbally speaks, so kept that same sort of cadence here.)

Oh, since someone asked Danny is just slightly older than he would be it canon time continued normally, so late 30's. Bruce is early 40's.

[flwrkid14]

Ok, you did amazing with the addams family au. Now is it possible to have the batfamily and/or the justice league react to them? Sorry for asking immediately after the last one. Please take your time and no pressure.

tysm anon!! i hope this lives up to ur expectations ! <3

The first time Bruce meets them, he almost doesn't knock.

He stands on the doorstep of the old manor, surrounded by creeping vines and statues that seem to blink when you’re not looking. There’s fog rolling in across the garden, and somewhere deep in the house, something howls.

He’s faced gods. Aliens. The end of the world—twice. But this? This is different.

Because when the door opens, Tim is standing there. Serene. Dressed in black silk and silver rings, with his hair pinned back like a prince preparing for war. He smiles like secrets. He speaks in low tones, carefully enunciated, like every syllable is chosen.

Danny’s behind him, radiant and grinning and barefoot. There's moonlight in his hair and shadow under his nails. He looks like a wish granted wrong and made beautiful anyway. His arm curls around Tim’s waist without thought, possessive and devoted in equal measure.

"Welcome," Tim says. "Please, come in. The house is very excited to meet you."

And that’s not a metaphor. The house creaks in greeting.

---

The children are... something else.

Bart phases in and out of rooms muttering to ghosts only he can hear. Cassie and Anita speak to each other in tongues no one else knows. Kon and Dani keep dueling with enchanted broadswords.

They leave offerings on the windowsills before bed. No one quite knows for who or what. They duel for fun. Their bedtime stories are legends of ancient monsters with names no one else can pronounce. Their laughter sometimes echoes for too long.

“They’re harmless,” Tim says pleasantly, as Dani levitates three feet off the floor, eyes glowing.

Bruce, halfway to calling Zatanna, just nods tightly.

---

The batfamily handles it exactly how you'd expect.

Dick brings muffins and accidentally participates in a blood pact. Jason keeps joking about it—until he finds himself buried up to his neck in rich soil while Dani solemnly explains “we’re helping your roots, Uncle Jason.” Steph loves the vibes. Duke is side-eyeing the ghost in the hallway mirror that only he can see. Cass takes one look at the kids and says, “They fight well,” like it’s the highest compliment.

Damian disappears for two days and returns with a pet spider the size of a basketball and a cryptic smile.

Alfred and Danny become fast friends. They discuss herbal tonics, rare poisons, and long-lost techniques of preservation. “You steep your mandrake root first?” “Only if I want them to remember the dream.”

---

When the Justice League visits, things escalate.

Clark walks in and instantly gets hugged by a disembodied hand. Diana is enchanted. She’s utterly delighted by Tim’s gothic elegance and Danny's over-the-top adoration. She brings a cursed sword as a hostess gift. They keep it in the foyer.

J’onn enjoys the vibes. He sits with Cassie and Bart as they summon something from the other realm. J’onn helps. They succeed. Nobody talks about it afterward.

Hal is terrified. He doesn’t know why. He won’t go near the punch. Barry trips over a summoning circle and ends up in a mirror dimension for twelve minutes. No one is concerned.

---

It feels like an odd arrangement.

And yet.

No one can deny how much Tim smiles now. How still his hands are when Danny touches them. How soft his voice goes when he says, “They’re our children.”

The house may creak. The shadows may whisper. The candles may flicker without wind.

But it’s warm here.

Safe. Loved. A little terrifying.

Very them.

[minty364]

Minty's Master Post

So, I've been asked a couple times for a master post

DPXDC Prompt #43

Danny had kept many secrets from his family over the years. He kept his history as an ex-assassin secret, the fact that he had a twin a secret, the fact that he had died (well half died), and he kept that he was technically king of all ghosts a secret too. He was gearing up to tell his parents about everything he was and this trip to Gotham that they were planning.

There was a science convention that his parents were invited too. Little did they know a group of cultists were planning on kidnapping his family as a sacrifice to the ghost king, they needed 5 and they figured the Fentons would be good, a family of ghost hunters getting sacrificed to the king? They needed a 5th so they also kidnapped a Damian Wayne.

now all 5 of them are in a room, Danny doesn’t even know what’ll happen when the summoning doesn’t work and he knows it won’t seeing as you can’t summon the king into a room he’s already in.

DPXDC Prompt #58

Gotham is a city with a lot of ambient ectoplasm, enough that the Fentons move here instead of Amity Park. Danny being a pretty smart kid being the son of 2 scientists gets a scholarship to Gotham academy where he makes friends with Tim and Damian. Well the 2 were only doing it at first because they wanted to keep an eye on them scientists rarely didn’t become rouges in Batman’s gallery so can you really blame them for being cautious?

Danny is telling them about the portal that they were trying to build and how it wasn’t working and how Danny felt guilty about it. The 3 venture down there when the parents are gone and Danny wearing his hazmat goes into the portal while the other 2 watch on. Danny trips and no one’s having a good time.

They decided to take Danny to Wayne manor until they can figure out what exactly happened to him, unfortunately Danny’s new powers act up and he winds up phasing through the floor into the basement… or more accurately the Bat cave.

this one has been changed a bit from the prompt but I think those changes are more natural

DPXDC Prompt #61

In one universe Damian was sent to live with his father at age 10, in another he winds up escaping Nanda Parbat to America after faking his death. He changed his name to Danny and moves in with a family called the Fentons. Danny dies and is revived by the portal and even becomes king of the infinite realms.

Danny falls through a portal into Gotham but not his universes Gotham but one where he becomes Robin instead. He and Robin meet and of course this version of him assumes Danny’s a clone. Everyone else is just confused and Danny just wants to go home to his universe or does he since the GIW doesn’t exist in this universe…

DPXDC Prompt #108

When you meet your soulmate you both feel it, you know down to your bones that this person was meant to be with you for life, if you’re unable to find them before you pass on, your ghosts will be unable to locate each other in the afterlife. The Fentons tried to make a way to locate your soulmate using ectoplasm, unfortunately for Danny he’s the only one in the family yet to find his. Jazz actually found hers when she started school in Gotham, some guy named Jason, if Danny remembered correctly. They try some experiments with Danny and something works just not as intended as with every piece of Fenton tech. Danny wakes up in an unfamiliar room and in an unfamiliar body. Looking around, it appears his soulmate is rich, he’s got to call his soulmate and explain the situation. He’s not looking forward to explaining his powers to them but if they’re going to be in his body best to let them know what to expect from Danny’s weird biology.

Damian woke up to an unfamiliar ringtone in an unfamiliar room. Assessing the situation he noticed the number from the phone was actually his own. Might as well answer it to see if he could get some answers.

DPXDC Prompt #128

No one was quite sure what happened, They had gone after Joker and while Batman was hesitant to allow Hood along he had gotten better about his anger and everyone else was busy with other rouges. one second Red Hood had a gun in Jokers face the next, there was a shift in Hood like he wasn’t himself anymore. Unfortunately it finally happened for Hood, his soulmate had reached 20 years of age and the two switched places. The person controlling his body now though was Danny Fenton who happens not to like clowns.

Danny was panicking and not realizing he was holding a gun pulls the trigger causing the Joker the go flying and Danny’s panic to increase 10 fold. He whips his head to get a look at his surroundings and that’s when he panics further and slowly places the gun on the ground and slowly raise his hands into the air. There in front of him was Batman and he knew he was in trouble. Still panicking he squeaked at the dark knight’s approach, “I’m sorry!! I- I guess I’m this guy’s soulmate. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone”

Jason meanwhile wasn’t fairing any better. He was pissed the clown was right in front of him and he was so close! He was in this scrawny body, his soulmate happened to be in Gotham but by the looks of it, he was in rough shape, a small fever was forming and it seemed like he had bandages wrapped around his torso. Jason doesn’t know what happened to him but he’s taking him to Alfred, he wasn’t going to let his soulmate bleed out in an alley even if he did have the worst timing.

DPXDC Prompt #136

Danny falls through a natural portal and gets turned into a dog. I’m thinking he gets turned into something husky adjacent like a pomsky or something. He gets found by Jon who wants to give him to his friend and possible crush Damian. Danny wants to get back he was in the middle of some ghost politics but this young kid seemed like he needed a friend. Danny could see through Damian’s cold exterior and what Danny saw was a little kid who went through a lot of trauma in his childhood and Danny wanted to protect him.

DPXDC Prompt #142

It was considered a pretty big deal when a new ancient gets born. Danny didn’t and wouldn’t know this when he gets into an accident. A signal went out to all magic users that the ancient of space was born as soon as he stepped out of the portal and then things changed. If you could make a deal with an ancient it increased your power way more than that of a demon. Soon Danny gets chased by all sorts of folk trying to make a deal with him. He then gets caught by John Constantine who takes him back to the safety of the watchtower. What is the safest place to put the space ancient? In space!

DPXDC Prompt #148

Danny didn’t want to go to the gala but since all of his friends were busy with their own soulmates there wasn’t much he could argue. Vlad invited his family and him to a gala out in Gotham and his parents jumped at the opportunity to show their madness with some of the elite. Danny couldn’t wait to get home, yes he knew he had a soulmate but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to pursue them or not.

They could feel each other’s emotions and his soulmate was an angry person. Danny’s whole life his soulmate acted mad and strangely prideful. But those didn’t compare to his fear, they seemed to have gotten themselves in trouble in the past and maybe even had a few close encounters with death. They also seemed to bottle feelings up from what he could tell his soulmate might not have had the best childhood but Danny couldn’t really say much on that.

Damian knew his soulmate was kind of soft. They seemed to get annoyed at his family typical for a teen. Of all the things he noted about him his dislike of Christmas was a little odd but not everyone has to like the holidays he supposed. His mother Talia imparted on him that he should protect his soulmate with his life when he finds him so he was very determined to find them. Of course galas we’re the best place to look so he desperately asked every time his father hosted one.

When this finally get's posted I've been trying for hours now, LMAO

[deathlysilent13]

DPxDC Fic Snippet: Danny and Damian are Twins AU but it's mean

((HEADS UP BEFORE WE GO IN: This isn't nice. I don't know where it's going, but this isn't nice. There's gonna be mentions of torture, child abuse, manipulation. This isn't an "everything's magically okay" AU and honestly I don't know if it's going to end nicely. Also, this is a continuation of my rewrite of @oliveofvanders's fic here, which isn't posted yet, but feel free to go read what started it, but MIND THE TAGS.))

They move silently, working down into the city proper and slipping through shadows. Tim’s guiding them via the plane’s onboard computer, having figured out where Danyal lived, and they’re nearly there when they hear voices. Damian slips around the corner, Bruce on his heels. Jason ducks around the other side and hears Dick stay with him. There’s a League lookout perched on a roof nearby. 

“I would rather die than go back,” Danyal says coldly, and Jason catches a glimpse of him backed against a wall. 

Talia, standing in front of him, lashes out with a dagger, and had Danyal not dodged it would probably have taken off his ear. “Do not speak to me!” Talia snarls, and Jason’s stomach drops. She turns her attention back to the assassin kneeling before her. “Bring him to the plane. Grandfather will need to remind him of his place before we drop him in Gotham. A Spare has no need to speak.” 

Jason watches Damian lunge katana first at a shocked Talia, face contorted into unbridled rage. He moves at the same time Dick does, stopping the assassin on the roof from interfering while Dick backs up Damian. The fight is short, but brutal. Talia only had the two with her, and Damian was angry enough to get her on the ground in quite possibly record time. 

Jason and Bruce had each taken an assassin out while Dick focused on keeping Damian from actually killing Talia. He doesn’t bother being gentle in knocking the person unconscious, tying them and dropping them with Bruce’s unconscious capture. Dick is holding Damian back, who appears to still be trying to genuinely kill his mother. Danyal hasn’t moved, and the way his eyes lock onto Bruce and his entire demeanor changes sets alarm bells ringing in Jason’s head. 

Bruce approaches, side stepping Talia to get a look at Danyal at last. His approach has calmed Damian, who’s watching them silently. Jason thinks this might just go well until Danyal’s gaze lowers and his hands settle at the small of his back. They all recognize the League’s parade rest and deferential sightline. 

Shit, Jason thinks.

Bruce, as well, stops cold, having recognized the shift. “Are you hurt?” he asks softly. 

Danyal shakes his head once. 

Damian is frowning now, and Dick noticeably doesn’t let him go. “So he does remember his place,” Talia spits venomously, startling everyone. 

Bruce’s gaze is hard when he looks down at her. “Explain,” he barks, and even Jason jolts at his tone. That’s not normal for Bruce, he’s very rarely that calloused. 

Talia coughs lightly, spitting blood upon the pavement. “Father never intended to keep the Spare,” she says without giving Danyal a glance. “However, Damian was attached, so I made sure he stayed in sight so as to not distract Damian from his training for the absence. He’d proved useful when Damian had gotten his right arm caught in a rockslide, his arm providing the nerves and the piece of shredded vein that prevented a complete loss of use of the limb. And again when Slade betrayed the League and destroyed Damian’s left eye.” Damian has gone still.

They all glance at him, but his focus is on Talia. “You hurt him,” Damian whispers, the accusation clear. 

Talia scoffs. “You’re the only reason he kept his life, Damian,” she says with an impressive dismissiveness. “I have no need of him now that you’ve chosen your father over me.” 

Before any of them can strangle her, a muffled shot rings out, blood blossoming across Talia’s abdomen. They all dive, barring Danyal, as the girl from earlier nears them. The gun in her hand is steady, and she looks more than willing to use it again. The boy from earlier slips behind her, heading straight for Danyal without crossing in front of the gun. “Hey, hey, come on,” he murmurs, though they can all hear him. “You’re still in Amity Park, Danny, you’re okay. She won’t take your tongue again. It’s okay, your parents are coming.” 

Damian’s face contorts, but he says nothing as Danyal blinks, shuddering as he takes in a ragged breath and latches onto the boy. “Tucker,” he says quietly, hiding his face against a sweater covered shoulder. 

Headlights come into view then, a giant metal monstrosity stopping close enough that Jason briefly thought they were actually going to hit Bruce. “The next person who comes for my baby is getting thrown through the portal!” a woman screeches as she steps out. The driver follows, somehow bigger than both Bruce and Jason and eerily quiet. Given the looks the boy and girl that had come to Danyal’s rescue share, this is definitely not his normal. 

Talia attempts to rise with the destruction. “What could you possibly want with that one? He’s worth nothing,” she croaks, holding her side. Jason can see the blood now, glinting off the headlights. That’s not an insignificant wound, and he wonders if the girl knows where she hit. 

The man pulls his own gun while the girl levels hers, and Talia’s eyes flick between them. Damian is making a fresh attempt to sink his blade into his mother’s heart. “You’re the only one here who isn’t worth shit,” the man says darkly. “And one way or another, you will never come near my son again.” Jason blinks, watching the woman coax Danyal into the back of the metal vehicle, the kids following with easy familiarity. 

[phantom-dc]

Dad Hood - part 15

‘So you need a spell? What kind, mate? I’m in a rush, so let’s get this over with.’

Constantine was annoyed. He hated dealing with Batman. The guy was a control freak, and magic doesn’t work by his rules. Constantine always felt like he had to over-explain everything just to keep the man from messing with things he really shouldn’t. Not only that, Zatanna had put a spell on him, either as a prank or as a way to help him quit. All his cigarette’s kept turning into lollipops. God, he needed a smoke.

‘We need a spell to find out where a child came from. So far we have found nothing, which is why we called you.’

Batman was annoyed. He hated dealing with Constantine. The wizard always acted like he was a toddler with a fork and an outlet. B was certain if he studied magic like Constantine he would figure it out, but he was too busy keeping Gotham safe for that.

‘Alright, let’s get this over with. At least we’ll be square afterwards. Where’s the little bugger?’

Constantine looked around. He saw Red Hood sitting at a table next to a little boy. Cute little kid, black hair and blue eyes. No wonder Batsy was so keen to help. But there was a strange energy around them…

‘The child is Red Hood’s son. We need to find out where he lived before he came to Gotham.’

Ah, so that’s why the kid felt like Death. Red Hood reeked of it and being his kid it’s no wonder the kid also felt like that. Sitting next to the kid, Constantine took out a cigarette out of habit, but it morphed into a lollipop in his hands. Cursing a bit, Constantine started setting up a simple spell. That should narrow down where the kid lived down to the city. Batsy can figure out the rest.

‘Mr. Con-man? Can I trade for your lollipop?’

Constantine blinked. Did the kid really called him Con-man? Seeing Red Hood smirk, John decided that the kid probably just couldn’t pronounce Constantine yet. Seeing the kid hold a juice-box, and not liking lollipops either way, John accepted.

‘Sure kid, deal. Now, this sigil should go here, and then this one-’

Suddenly John felt a warmth in his chest. He knew that warmth, but why now? Looking around, he saw the kid, enjoying the pop and still keeping his juice. Batman asked him what’s wrong.

‘…Nothing mate. I’m almost done. Just need to put this last sigil here and… done. Hey kid, could you put your hand right here for a moment?’

When Danny put his hand on the spell, the light formed into an Earth. A bright spot appeared in Illinois. Searching that spot on the Bat-computer, Tim found a place called Amity Park.

‘Ah, bollocks.’

‘Something wrong, Constantine?’

‘Ah, no. Nothing wrong, Batsy. I just need to go. I’ve got a… previous arrangement. I’ll see myself out!’

Constantine magicked himself back to his House of Mystery. He got a bottle of scotch and collapsed on the couch. Of course the kid was form Amity Park. Where else had Batsy gotten a kid that traded Constantine’s Soul contracts for Goddamn candy? How'd the kid even get those?

Back in the Batcave Bruce was confused. Why had Constantine fled? Danny didn’t do anything? He hoped that they would find their answers in Amity Park.

The next day, the family was taking a private plane. Bruce thought it would be best if the group went as civilians. The city wasn’t very suited to grapples and such, though they did have their suits in a hidden compartment in the plane. You can never be too sure, after all. Besides, the Waynes were in need of a vacation. That’s what rich people did after all. Danny was looking through the window, trying to see if he recognized anything yet.

‘Hey Danny, have you ever flown before?’

‘Of course, Uncle Dick! I fly all the time!’

At this, Danny floated up to the ceiling. Jason quickly grabbed him and put Danny on his lap. Can’t have him phasing outside.

‘Dick meant in a plane, kiddo. We know you can fly on your own. Have you ever flown in a plane before?’

‘Yeah! I did once with my mom! But the pilot jumped out of the plane and left me and mom to crash! He was dead too!’

Hoping to distract from that worrying statement, Duke asked Danny if he liked living in Amity, or if he didn’t remember.

‘I’m starting too. I do like it! It used to be really difficult, but not anymore! Now that everybody know that I’m dead, I don’t have to do my homework as much, and my parents don’t hunt me anymore, and my bullies don’t hit me either! But don’t tell anyone! It’s a secret, we don’t want the government to come and cut me open. So don’t tell the Guys in White, please!’

Bruce wrote down a memo to investigate these ‘guys in white’. Before he could ask Danny a bit more about it, the seatbelt lights came on. They had arrived in Amity Park.

First - Previous - Next - AO3

[denimjacketgf]

For the prompts - 1, 7, 49?

gonna go w/ 49. Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath and since u didn’t specify a pairing i’m gonna write this for timsasha :}

not exactly a content warning but more of a. rating bump. i’d rate this pg13 cuz like. there’s no actual sex, but there’s a lot of allusions to the fact that tim and sasha have had sex before and were fully planning to have sex again tonight but then stopped. also tim talks a lot about danny so lots of death and grief/mourning talk!

- - -

Sasha thinks she’s beginning to have a problem.

Well, maybe ‘beginning’ is the wrong word. The beginning was when she transferred from Artifact Storage to Research. When she met Tim Stoker, the handsome, brooding man she shared a desk clump with. When she’d made a comment, something so innocuous that she doesn’t even remember what it was she said anymore, just it had been wry enough to make Tim laugh; a huff, dry and punched out of him almost against his will. She doesn’t remember what he’d said back, but he’d said something, and it had made her laugh, too.

But that was months ago. Nowadays, the Tim Stoker she knows is a complete night-and-day switch from the sullen storm cloud she’d shared her space with. He jokes and he gesticulates and he laughs, fully and throaty and deep, and he does it a lot. 

Sasha watched him fight for his laughter and his jokes and every ounce of fun he manages to drag out of their boring research jobs. And it’s not that Sasha didn’t like the Tim she first met, but she likes seeing Tim finding ways to be happy. If anyone deserves that kind of joy, it’s Tim.

But... Sometimes, there’s a crack in the façade. 

Sometimes he gets tired, or exasperated, or angry, and... Sometimes it seems like something that looks like the Tim she first met still lives inside him somewhere, and it’s just too hard to be the Tim Stoker everyone expects him to be. 

And that’s okay; they all have their masks. Tim doesn’t begrudge Sasha hers, so she’s not about to say anything about his. He trusts her enough to let it slip in her company, so she’ll return that trust but not saying anything about it.

Tonight... tonight Sasha sees Tim slip, just a little bit. 

She sees it first outside the pub.

He pulls his phone out to call a cab, and she sees his face shutter. It’s just a second — a flash, there and gone as quick as it takes him to unlock his phone — but Sasha’s fluent enough in Tim-isms that she notices.

Knocking her elbow into him, she asks, “everything okay?”

“Hm?” Tim looks up at her, flashes her one of his cheekiest grins. “Yeah, 'course. Why?”

So Sasha drops it. Says something innocuous that earns her a loud snort of laughter, and they pile into a cab back to Tim’s together.

So. This is the problem: Sasha is in Tim’s bed. And it’s not the first time.

They haven’t even done anything yet, this time. And maybe that’s even worse? At least last time they’d had the excuse of post-drinks headiness, the rush and the need to touch and feel and be close. Drunken hookups are easy to pass off, easy to brush past. Just two people who had one too many and fell into bed together, no big deal, ha-ha.

But then Tim’s mask slips away entirely. 

He pulls back and pushes himself up. After a minute, Sasha follows him up. 

“Um.” He runs an agitated hand through his messy hair. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she tells him. Sasha is not good at this. She is... clumsy at best, when it comes to comfort. Always either too blunt or too flippant, these things don’t come easy to her. She swallows, awkwardly picking at Tim’s sheet and meeting his eyes. Hesitantly, she asks, “Do you... want to talk about it?”

This is harder to explain away than the sleeping together. A drunken hookup doesn’t have to mean anything. A half-naked heart to heart is more... more tender. More vulnerable; more real. 

Tim breaks eye contact, looking down at his lap. "Have I ever told you about my brother?”

Sasha’s fingers still. “You have a brother?”

“Had,” Tim corrects, flat and dull. “I had a brother.”

And this is why never let herself get close enough to someone that they would trust her with their heart, because she knows she’s bound to drop it and let it shatter at her feet. It’s so much easier not to hurt anyone — not to get hurt yourself — when there’s no one around you with their hands inside your ribcage.

But here they are. The pair of them, together, and at some point over the last year Tim became her best friend, and Tim is asking her to help carry the weight of an over-burdened heart, and for him, she thinks she’d like to try.

“No,” Sasha answers, “you never told me about him.”

Something dark passes over Tim’s face, a dark cloud that finally settles on a wistful melancholy. “His name was Danny,” he says, “He died... H-he died last year. A-a year ago today.”

Sasha’s heart plummets. “Today?”

Tim nods. “I didn’t even realize it was the, the anniversary until I checked my phone at the pub. God, I didn’t even remember.”

Sasha hesitates. It won’t do to tell him not to beat himself up. Instead, she slowly slips her hand into Tim’s. “Tell me about him?”

Tim looks down at their hands. Has Sasha overstepped? But then he sighs, shoulders sagging, and squeezes. 

“He was... He was always so full of life,” Tim tells her. “He was my younger brother, but he was... I dunno, he always shone so much brighter than I did. Which doesn’t mean I— It’s not like I was ever in his shadow; he was sweet, and outgoing, and he just. Lit up a room, y’know?”

Sasha doesn’t know, but she nods anyway, just to keep him going.

“Honestly, sometimes Jon reminds me of him a little? It’s not like they're even that similar, but... They’re about the same age, and they’re both just... so intense about the things they care about.” He huffs, something that’s almost a laugh. “Danny was always— he always threw himself head first into the things he loved.”

A softer person might have softer words; might have some kind of comfort or reassurance. But Sasha just has her nagging curiosity, and Tim chose Sasha to confide in, so. She has to trust that means he wants what only she can give him. 

What she says is: “what happened to him?”

Tim sighs, shoulders sagging like a deflated balloon. “It’s so... I don’t know if you’ll believe it.”

“I’ll believe you.”

“You don’t have to,” Tim says, “I know you’re... Mostly skeptical about these things.”

“Tim.” Sasha tugs on his hand until he finally, finally looks up at her. “I said I’ll believe you.”

The because it’s you goes unsaid, but the look on Tim’s face tells Sasha that he hears it nonetheless.

“H-he got... really into UrbEx — uh, urban exploring? It’s like. Exploring abandoned buildings and stuff, y’know?”

Sasha nods. “I think I’ve heard of it, yeah.”

“Yeah, right— well he was, uh. It was his newest passion.” Even knowing the shape of where this story’s going, Sasha can see the light in his eyes go soft when he talks about the things his little brother loved. “I figured he’d ju-just do what he normally did, get a kick out of it for a few months and hop onto his next thing, so I just... god, I think I encouraged him.”

“Hey, don’t,” Sasha warns.

Tim sighs. “Right. A-anyway, he um. He went to explore this, uh. He called them ‘ghost buildings,’ they— well. I guess they don’t really— that’s not the point—”

Sasha stops him with a hand on his knee. “Take a breath, Tim.”

He nods. He breathes: shaky unsteady, shaky exhale, repeat.

“Sorry, this...” He laughs, a humorless huff. “I’ve never actually said any of this out loud before? It’s... it’s hard to...”

“He went to one of these ghost buildings?” Sasha prompts.

Tim nods, back on track. “Yeah, under the, uh. The Royal Opera House. T-the Covent Garden Theater. It was a Robert Smirke building.”

Sasha thinks back to all the times Tim has talked her ear off about Robert Smirke, and just nods, a chill going up her spine.

“He broke in, a-and. And I tried to go after him, but...”

But it was too late, Sasha guesses. Even she has the good graces not to say it out loud.

“And, and—” The color has drained from his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. Or at least like he’s just let one into the room. “I swear I’m not making this up, but there was this... this clown. And I think it was the Great Grimaldi, because he had a, a stupid flyer for one of his shows, and—”

“Breathe,” Sasha reminds him, but she can’t tell if he hears her or not.

He tells her what he saw. It sounds like something from a bad horror movie, but Sasha promised to believe Tim, so she does. Even in disjointed, confused terror, there isn’t a nice way to talk about a clown stealing the skin off your brother.

“He was crying the last time I saw him,” Tim says, hollow and wrung out. “You know, I knew something was wrong. I could’ve... He was there. He was in my flat, and I just... I just let him go back. I could’ve—”

And Sasha does not have the kind of gentle words she wishes she did. She is clumsy and oftentimes too harsh for her own good. But she cannot stand the raw, yawning maw of hurt pulling at Tim’s edges like teeth.

She doesn’t have words, but that doesn’t mean she has nothing to offer. She pulls Tim into her arms, crushing him in a hug so tight it takes both of their breath away.

Tim goes stiff, and then his strings snap and he falls, boneless, into her embrace, hides his face against her neck and wraps his arms around her back, clings to her like she’s the only thing holding his pieces together right now.

(Maybe she is. Maybe she can be this, for him.)

She holds him for a long time, long enough for the mask to fall away completely, long enough for her to learn that when Tim cries he does it quietly, even though it takes his whole body in huge, hiccuping spasms, every one of his muscles trembling against her.

Sasha cards her fingers through his hair with one hand, presses the other firmly to his back, and never loosens her hold.

Finally, after the tears have all run dry, he shifts, and Sasha lets him pull back. His eyes are puffy, cheeks dark and blotchy. 

He sniffs, wipes a broad palm over his face. “Sorry, uh... didn’t mean to get your shoulder all wet.”

Sasha huffs. “It’s fine, Tim. Shirt’s already off, so I won’t even need to wash it.”

Tim laughs, weak and wet, but, she thinks, grateful. “Small mercies, huh?”

“Yeah...”

He takes a long, slow breath. His face falls, opens up into something new. “Really, though. Thanks, uh... Thanks for all of that. For listening.”

When Sasha says, “Anytime,” she surprises herself by meaning it.

Tim looks up. He meets her eyes. After a long moment of silence, he groans, flopping viciously back against the bed, burying his face in his hands. “Ugh.”

Sasha eases herself more gently down next to him. “Tired?”

“Very.”

Sasha hums. She turns onto her side, facing Tim. Eventually, she watches his hands fall away, watches as he turns his head to face her, too.

“You can go, if you want.” He shrugs, shoulders jostling his pillow. “Can’t imagine I’ll be very good company tonight.”

Sasha frowns. “Do you want me to go?”

Tim swallows. “Not really. No.”

Sasha reaches out, finds Tim’s hand where he’s let it fall to his side, takes it in her own and threads her fingers through his. “I think I’d like to stay, then.”

Cautiously, Tim scooches closer, until his hair tickles Sasha’s neck. He squeezes her hand. “Thanks, Sash.”

Sasha falters, but. But Tim was brave enough to let Sasha see the truth of him tonight, so she can be a little brave, too. She reaches up, gently pushes his hair off his forehead, brushes her fingers against his cheek.

“Yeah,” she says, letting her arm drape over his shoulder. “Of course.”

They settle, but neither of them actually sleep for a long time. Sasha thinks this could definitely be a problem, if she let it. If she were to let herself fall for her best friend. 

But she also thinks, as they let the half-dark and the comfort of each other’s touch soothe away the sharp aches still lingering in the room, as she feels Tim’s thumb trace the ridges of one of her vertebrae, that laying here like this is the furthest thing from a problem that she can possibly think of.

[blue-avis]

I probably went a little to angsty on this... but it has a hopeful end so whatever.

Also sorry if it’s bad I wrote this really quick

“dude!” Wally says wide eyed and slack jawed.

“What?” Dick asks slurping down his milkshake.

“I- well… look down at your wrist” Wally looks sad holding one arm out, as if expecting Dick to collapse onto his chest.

Dick raises his eyebrow and looks at his wrists. There on his right wrist the stylized D that was his soul mark was pitch black. He pops a handful of fries into his mouth. He needs some more strength to explain the shit show that is his soulmate. Cursing himself for not putting the thick leather bracelet he usually used to hide his soul mark in when Wally knocked on his apartment door.

“Their fine” Dick says easily, looking back at the movie they were watching. They can’t not be fine, they always come back, they can’t stay dead.

Wally looks utterly terrified, and why wouldn’t he? He’s happily married to his soulmate with two kids to welcome him home. Two kids who adore their fun uncle Dick and tried to make him breakfast when he was crashing on Wally’s couch.

“What do you mean ‘their fine’? Your soulmate is dead” Wally says softly, taking Dicks hands in his.

Damn Wally and his bleeding heart.

“They die all the time, it barely hurts anymore” The pain of having your soulmate die is know to be the worst pain of them all. He remembers the first time like yesterday, that horrible night when he was 15 etched into his soul.

It was dinner, he and Bruce were talking about something, Alfred was off in the servants quarters eating his own meal. Then this horrible pain came shooting from his wrist. He must have screamed, all he knew was there was a loud sound and then he was on the floor clutching his wrist to his chest. Someone bear huged him, but all he could really focus on were the bolts of electricity tormenting his nervous system.

“They die all the time?” Wally asks on the verge of tears. Dick blinks and he’s wrapped up in the softest blankets he owns with Wally clutching him to his chest. “I’m so sorry Rob” Dick feels the rumble in Wally’s chest as he speaks.

“Usually at night, it doesn’t happen as often as when I was a teen. They die around 11 PM every night, and come back to life after 4 AM, never before”

“So that’s why you would tense up sometimes on Teen Titans missions?”

Dick nods, knowing that Wally would feel his response. He’s happy to have Wally West as his best friend.

Danny was in pain. The ghost clutched his side where a clown in white got a lucky shot. The Justice league clams to do everything in their power to protect Metas, yet they let the GIW operate.

He presses himself harder into the ghost proof wall, the stupid agents stocking toward him. Ancients, he hopes Ellie got away

Danny lets out a guttural screech, hopping to make the facility collapsing on itself, not caring if he killed them. If they are so adamant on disrespecting the dead, let’s see how they like being one of them.

He can’t live here anymore, it’s just not worth it. He can visit Sam, Tuck and Jazz whenever he likes. Besides, it’ll get the observance off his back about ‘claiming his throne’

Danny shoots off through the pile of twisted metal that used to be the GIW facility. 

Dick starts working case after case, he can’t think about how his mark taunts him with that sickening inky color. He can’t stand the sad looks his little brothers give him when he kicks Bruce or Tim off the Batcomputer.

Harley try’s to get him to talk about it, all it does is make him hate her.

He needs to do something, anything to keep his thoughts away from his soulmate.

That’s how it is for a few months Dick working himself to the bone in an effort not to feel anything, until the inevitable crash.

A simple sparring session with Stephanie turned into a Family dog pile on the sparring mat around a sobbing dick. Asking why they won’t come back this time. Asking why he can never know the sound of his soulmate laughing, why he’ll never know their favorite song, why they couldn’t talk for hours about absolutely nothing. Asking why the universe is so cruel that he’ll never know his soulmates name.

It takes a few years, but it starts to hurt less. No it doesn’t hurt less, Dick just builds up a pain tolerance and takes a page out of Bruce’s book, lock your emotions away and you can’t feel them. Even if he still tears up if he looks at his wrist for to long.

Right now Dick wishes he didn’t have to supervise the JLD, but of course he’s the only one available. Batman and Robin are tied up with the Riddler, Jason is locked in a gang war with black mask again, Signal is fast asleep, and the girls are hosting a charity lifestream. He just want ever it is doesn’t destroy his suit.

“Run that by me one more time” Dick says pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Bloody idiot occultists are planning to summon the king of infinite realms like absolute wankers” Constance him he says taking a swig out of his flask.

“King Phantoms is known to be generous, but we really don’t need them to piss him off and make him decide destroying one universe couldn’t hurt” Zatanna clarifies.

Dick sighs, this has just been a great Monday. He really needs a vacation on the families private island.

“Let’s Just get this over with” Dick fires off his grappling hook to follow justice league dark from the rooftops. 

When they get to the old abandoned warehouse, he pears in through the mostly shattered sky lights at the scene below.

A group of occultists wearing thick Lazarus green robes are quickly subdued with Constantine and Zatanna trying to cancel the summoning spell. 

Dick cringes when John lets out a string curses that would make a sailor brush. That can’t be good.

A bright green light blinds him, and when he blinks the spots from his eyes he sees the most most beautiful man he’s ever seen in this life.

The man has a acrobatic build, strong slender muscles coiled around a barrel chested frame. His long-ish white hair blowing in a nonexistent breeze under a icy crown.

Dick drops down to get a better look at him.

Then he feels his heart stop when they lock eyes.

Without thinking Dick pulls one glove off, rolls his sleeve up, and shows king Phantom his soulmark.

“My names Richard, call me Dick”

Phantom shows Dick his soulmark, the same symbol Dick has on his chest. 

“Danny”

Ok kinda funny/a bit angsty idea danny has a soulmate mark that shows how your soulmate is doing in the alive injured critical dead sense when the soulmate dies the mark goes black

Now Danny's mark has been through most/all the phases he was a bit worried about the dead part but they came back so he's not that worried

Danny's soulmate on the otherhand a batfam member is freaking the fuck out every single day his soulmate dies amd comes back to life what the hell if wrong with his soulmate that he can keep coming back to life

Basically when danny transforms to phantom his mark registers him as dead and the bat family are freaking out because one of their members soulmate has died like 63 times this week what the hell is up with him

[ayamari-no-goshi]

To Join the Whispers (4)

AO3

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

Summary:  THIS IS A CROSSOVER A contact for the Batfamily passed along a rumor that the League of Assassins were investigating a small city called Amity Park. The old man and Tim managed to find evidence of unusual paranormal activity in the town. While they weren’t entirely certain it wasn’t just infested with metas, the locals believed the entities that haunted, for lack of a better word, the town were actual ghosts. If there was one thing Ra’s al Ghul didn’t need to get his grubby hands on, it was ghosts.That’s probably why Jason was doing this. He had the unfortunate luck to experience both death and resurrection in a way he’d never recommend to anyone else.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, and questionable mental health

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr. Jason Todd-centric

Well, Bruce was the one who took Danny home. According to everyone else, he would jostled the kid too much while carrying him. Just because he doesn’t particularly like using grappling hooks, it doesn’t mean he can’t move smoothly.

But, he’d been tasked to work with Tim and Dick to review the information they took from the assassins’ bodies while the other three would return to the warehouse to see if they could find any more information. Bruce didn’t want him anywhere near an area where the G.I.W. could possibly be, at least until it was certain the organization’s equipment wouldn’t detect him. If anti-ghost equipment could harm him, it was possible various scanners could detect him.

They wanted to check it first with the one they got from the Fentons. Maddie had gone over how it worked, but due to Danny being in the house, she explained it would end up giving false readings. Might have been a good thing in the long run. As much as he was curious to see how badly the Fentons would react, making a public scene was currently a bad idea. They were trying to be discrete after all.

However, Jason decided to stay true to his promise to himself and get that shower first. He was not going to continue to stink like ghost bear spit for the rest of the night.

He tried to keep his mind from wandering too much during the shower. He knew full well that he shouldn’t have been able to physically attack a ghost, but he didn’t have much time to question it at the time. Had he been able to do that since he came back from the dead? What else did the Pit do to him other than the obvious body enhancement? Knowing he wouldn’t get an answer from his own thoughts, he decided to finish up and rejoin Dick and Tim.

“Find any… never mind.” He was going to ask but seeing as Tim already had two empty coffee cups and Dick was hanging halfway off the bed reading something, they didn’t have anything just yet. “What do you want me to start with?”

“Can you look at the readings of the assassins?” Tim didn’t even look up from his laptop.

He grabbed his own computer, specifically supplied by Bruce for this mission, and began sorting through the information Babs organized for them. She also might be looking through the same information, but it was also possible her focus was on something else, like the Fenton’s research or looking into Masters.

Duke’s abilities suggested the assassins died shortly before they arrived to take them out, and the reading verified it. However, there was an odd temperature reading around the chest on the first one he checked. After death, the body cools down over the course of several hours, but it doesn’t heat up. There was somewhat circular spot much warmer than the surrounding tissue just over the heat. A quick check showed the other four had the same spot.

“I might have something.” His brothers crowded around as he pointed out the discovery.

“Could it have been a heat ray or something like that?” Dick questioned. “No, that wouldn’t make sense. There’s no evidence of the heart or any other organ being cooked, and the skin doesn’t seem to have been burned.”

“Could it have really been a ghost, and that’s where it, or a hand at least, entered the body?”

Tim frowned as he turned his attention back to his laptop. “But aren’t ghosts supposed to be cold. Phantom’s readings are insane, and I have no idea how he’s still alive… well, at least partially alive. How does that work?”

“We’d probably have to ask Phantom that one,” Babs answered over their communicators. “However, some of the Fenton’s and even the G.I.W’s research suggest that some ghosts do have abnormally warn temperatures. The ones I can find have obvious fire related abilities, but it does appear most of them run cold.”

“I guess we can’t rule out ghosts.”

“Babs, do you have any data about a ghost named Plasmius?” Jason had a sinking suspicion that Masters was somehow involved, especially after the appearance of the mutant ghost animals.

“Honestly, I don’t have a lot,” Babs replied accompanied by some tapping. “We only have a few hints from the Fenton’s research. There’s nothing in the G.I.W.’s database, but there seems to be some evidence of tampering. If they previously had anything, it’s long gone.”

“Any chance of restoring it?” Dick questioned as he maneuvered himself between his brothers.

“At this point, I doubt it, but I’ll look to see if I can find the hacking signature.”

Jason absently rubbed the large scar on his chest as he leaned away from Dick. “So, what do we have on him?”

“I’ll send you the files, but honestly, it’s just the basics like appearance, approx. height, noted abilities.”

“Phantom wasn’t joking when he said Plasmius looks like a vampire.” After a quick review, Jason was disappointed that there wasn’t a temperature recording for Plasmius. However, there was a note mentioned that either fire or electrical abilities were suspected. While it didn’t confirm anything, other heroes and villains with those types of abilities did tend to be warmer than the average person.

After a moment of debating, he added, “You know… the Pit did react to something when we reached the perimeter of the warehouse.”

“You said you didn’t sense anything,” Tim glanced over at him.

“Once we were inside, I didn’t until Phantom showed up.” He ran his hand through his hair. “It stirs a lot, and I thought it was just that. But maybe it wasn’t. It’s not like I really understand how this works.”

Dick attempted to pat his shoulder, only for him to bat it away. “We’ll talk to B about it. You might have to start letting us know when that happens until we get to the bottom of this.”

“If you want false alarms all day, sure, because it happens all the time, especially here.”

“If I’m not mistaken, you can tell when it’s Phantom though,” Babs noted.

“Yeah… it’s…” he frowned for a moment as he tried to find the word, “…like a greeting? It’s stupid when I try to explain it, but it really didn’t like those ghost animals.” If he wasn’t mistaken, his brothers wanted him to elaborate further. Too bad he wasn’t going to. “I’m going to review those images again, but unless something jumps out at me, I’m pretty sure a ghost is our best bet for a culprit.”

About an hour later, the rest of them returned to the hotel room. Although it wasn’t obvious to the untrained, the Batman was irritated. The G.I.W. contaminated the entire scene with their equipment. This included driving a tank through one of the walls and, judging by scorch marks, destroyed another one with some of their weaponry. Some of them were also still lingering around the fencing.

They quickly exchanged information. While they couldn’t eliminate another force dealing with the League, as of right now they agreed the current most likely suspect was Masters. While Tim shifted back to working on the belts, Bruce took over for him. Jason, on the other hand, decided to investigate Masters.

On the surface, everything seemed normal. However, with a little help from Babs, they found a lot more than they expected. “No wonder why Danny calls him a Fruitloop,” he mumbled. Weapons, ectoplasmic composition, ectobiology, cloning, and something referred to as ecto-acne were just the tip of the iceberg. He had to recruit Duke and Dick to help sort through all of it.

After a few hours, Tim announced that he thought he had isolated Phantom’s ectosignature from the samples he took from the kid when he was bandaging him. And with a caffeine-fueled grin, he demanded a blood sample from Jason.

“You have that on file already.” He narrowed his eyes. The most recent sample had been personally provided by him when he revealed himself to Bruce after his resurrection.

“Yeah, but I need a fresh one to try to figure out your ecto-signature. If I remember, there were some abnormalities in it.” Of course, the little nerd remembered that without checking. “We believed that was residue from the Pit. I’ll have to double check, but we might be able to label it as ectoplasm now.”

After rolling his eyes, Jason used one of his knives to cut the back of his hand and held it out to his brother. With the sharpness of the blade and the enhanced healing the Pit gifted him, it’d be mostly healed within a few hours. He’d still have to wrap it just to prevent any chance of it getting on anything prior to that. Leaving as little trace as possible was figuratively beaten into them.

The regular chatter soon filled the room as they continued to work on their projects. While they still had little to go on regarding the assassins, they slowly uncovered a great deal about Masters. If what Babs uncovered was correct, Masters had spent a great deal of time trying to cover up what was happening in Amity. There were several files regarding various events in the town and what was provided to outside sources.

On top of that, there were several documents regarding Danny and his family. The man was absolutely obsessed with the Fentons, particularly Danny and his mother. And if the files were accurate, the man tried to clone Danny several times but stopped after catastrophic damage to his equipment. That’s probably what Danny referenced when talking about the experiments. The oddest thing was the apparent lack of interaction with known supervillains outside of regular business deals.

“Was it really just a fight over turf?” Duke yawned as he flopped backwards on the bed.

“Until we have evidence to prove otherwise, it seems that way,” Bruce agreed.

With no other obvious motive, it really seemed Masters was trying to keep others from interfering in the town. What surprised Jason was the man only seemed to make a tentative move against them. Perhaps he wanted to see if they were only interested in the assassins? Or were mutant ghost animals retaliation for befriending Danny?

Damian tutted. “I still find it unlikely men trained by grandfather would lose in such a battle.” Cass silently nodded.

“You couldn’t detect Phantom, could you?” Tim glanced away from his tinkering for just a moment.

The brat huffed and glanced away. “That’s different.”

With a stretch, Jason popped his back. “If it was Masters, he can sneak in undetected and his multiple foes at once. He’s a new type of enemy with unusual tactics. Anyways, did someone want to see if that Fenton device worked?”

Dick’s grin could only be considered childish as he flipped over the bed to grab the device. Show off. “I call dibs!”

Within moments, the device was booted up and a pleasant but robotic voice spoke, “Welcome to the Fenton Finder. There is a ghost four feet in front of you. You would have to be an idiot not to see the ghost in front of you. Thank you for using the Fenton Finder.”

Jason tried to suppress his desire to punch Dick in the mouth for the stupid shit eatting grin currently plastered on his face. “Don’t even say it.”

…

They slept in shifts. Tim was forced to sleep on the first shift. He tried arguing, but a threat of bodily harm helped convince him. Jason was not above pistol whipping his brother. He had kneed him the groin before. Or was that Dick? He was dealing with both of them at that particular moment.

He slept on the third shift. Why their hotel had a presidential suite baffled Jason since Amity wasn’t considerably important compared to say Gotham, Metropolis, or Star City, but it was nice having a place big enough that they could go into a separate room to sleep. It reduced the likelihood he’d be rudely woken up with Tim zapping him, but it didn’t completely get rid of the possibility.

If Tim pulled that crap, he would punch the idiot in the mouth.

Sleeping didn’t come easy. His dreams kept throwing him back in the Pit, complete with the unimaginable pain of being forced back to life. His psyche must have been sick of the reminder as he jolted awake.

But he didn’t wake up in a bed. Instead, wooden planks filled his vision. Was it a coffin? It better not be a coffin. Someone was going to die if it was. For years, he had nightmares about waking up in one. It hadn’t been something brought up to his family, but he did mention it in passing to Roy once.

However, after a quick glance. He realized he was just under the bed. Cussing out his family for playing such a stupid prank on him, he began the very annoying process of trying to get out from under it. His body type made it more difficult than it needed to be.

How the heck did they pull it off anyways? He’d heard of some of the pranks between Dick, Tim, and Damian, but those didn’t usually involve physically picking someone up off a bed. They were all trained to be light sleepers, and unless sleep deprivation took over, being jostled usually was enough to wake them up.

Grumbling after finally getting out from behind the bed, he glanced up to see Dick staring at him from the other bed. “What’s your problem?”

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. “Was the bed that uncomfortable?”

“If I find out you put me under there, I’m going to break your leg.”

“That’s enough of that,” Bruce warned as he appeared in the doorway.

“Judging by your scowl, I’m going to bet we don’t have any new information.” Jason glanced at the clock on the nearby desk. It was just past seven a.m.

“Correct. Both Masters and the Fentons have already contacted me.”

Dick let out a low whistle. “The Fentons are already done with our order? I’m actually impressed. You said they’re an entirely independent operation, right?”

“That’s what it looked like. That basement of theirs is a lot like a smaller version of something you’d see at Star Labs or Cadmus,” Jason crossed his arms as he shifted his weight. “What did Masters want?”

“Business meeting, or at least that what it sounds like. He wanted to meet in neutral ground at a local restaurant. I was going to bring Tim and Damian with me while Cass and Duke search his manor.”

“That leaves us to talk to the Fentons.” Dick frowned as he went over the plan. “Why would you have Damian come with you?”

Bruce gave an almost smug smile. “Masters doesn’t seem to know how to handle him.”

….

After getting ready, Bruce pulled him aside. “I’d like you to see if you can get a clearer picture of Danny’s homelife while you’re there.”

“Was already going to do that,” with how Danny’s parents acted around his ghost form, making sure the kid was safe at home was already at the top of Jason’s list of things he needed to do while still in Amity, “but are you sure you want me at the Fenton home?” It did have what they could basically call an artificial Lazarus Pit in the basement.

“You have the best rapport with the children. We still don’t have a clear picture of what Masters wants.”

“And you want me to see if Danny will be willing to give me more information. Got it.” Before he could move, Jason noted that Tim was approaching with Spector Deflector. “Guess you want me to test it before I leave?”

Tim held it out. “I think I finally figured it out.”

He heard that one before. After a needed eyeroll, he grabbed it. However, instead of the intense shocking pain of before, this was more akin to an unpleasant buzzing similar to using certain types of power tools. “Still feel it, but it’s nothing like what it was. I wouldn’t want to wear it for any length of time, but I’d love to hear what happens when Masters touches it.”

“I might not have enough time to tinker with it and fix the other belts before tonight so you might have to deal with it.” Tim then grinned at him. “I’ll tell you how Masters reacts when we get back.”

“Jay, you ready?” Dick called from near the door. He seemed almost giddy to leave. He hadn’t seen the Fenton household yet, so maybe that’s why he was so excited?

Shaking his head, he moved to grab his jacket. “Just need this…?” He thought he grabbed his jacket, but somehow his hand was sticking through it. Pulling his hand out of the leather, he found it appeared as a pale shadow of itself until about midway up his forearm. “Well, that’s new.”

Immediate alarm spread through the room. Everyone wanted to make sure he was okay, and that involved touching and more than a few scans. Sometime during the scuffle and trying to keep Dick away from him, his arm went back to normal.

“Back off! It’s fine now,” he snarled as he grabbed his coat.

“But, but you don’t know that,” Duke spoke up. “You said this wasn’t normal.”

Tim hummed for a moment as he checked the scans. “Vitals look normal, but didn’t you say the entire town feels like a toned-down version of the Pit? Maybe it has something to do with that?”

“Until we know what’s going on…”

Jason bristled Bruce’s attempt at concern. “Bruce, don’t finish that statement. If this is because of the town, do you really think staying here is going to change anything? It’s even more reason to talk to Danny. He’s probably the only one who might be able to explain what that was or if it’ll be a problem.”

…

“You know he’s worried about you.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “He certainly likes to pick and choose when he cares. Dick, you know how he is. Right now, he’s only worried about whether or not I’ll compromise the mission. Maybe if we were on our way home, I’d buy it, but not now.”

Dick stood in front of him, forcing him to stop walking. “Little wing… Jay… what happened to you affected him, badly. You didn’t get to see it. On top of that, you’re the only one we know of who seems to be permanently affected by the Pit.”

“Yeah? Well, it sucks.” Jason pushed past his brother and continued forward. Dick wasn’t wrong. The effects of the Pit were supposed to dissipate after a while, but they never did for him. “I had heard Cass was resurrected in it too. But she’s clearly not crazy.” He left out the obvious, ‘Like I am.’

“The only thing I think makes you crazy is your dislike of grappling hooks.”

“I don’t dislike them. I just don’t need them as much as you do.” He smiled despite himself. It was true. He had gotten so use to being able to bounce off the side of a building or catching himself with a ledge or flagpole that grappling hooks just weren’t as appealing as when he was younger. Made a great trick when trying to catch the attention of a Kryptonian. He still had one, just in case.

His brother nudged him with his elbow. “Now you’re smiling. None of us are still really sure what happened to you once you came back, but we’ve started seeing glimpses of the old you. That’s probably thanks to Kori and Roy more than anything we’ve done to help.”

When he didn’t respond, Dick took that as an invitation to continue. “We’re in new territory when it comes to ghosts and the like, so we’re all a bit on edge.”

“Meaning you’re worried I’m going to go on a killing spree.”

“What? No!”

“You don’t have to hide it.” Jason glanced up at the sky before taking a cigarette out of his jacket and lighting it. “The need… desire… obsession? I don’t know how to explain it… for taking them out, permanently, hasn’t been as bad for a while now.”

“Except for Joker.”

“Can you blame me on that one?”

“No, not really.”

A comfortable silence fell between them as they continued to walk until Dick pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. “What the fuck?”

“You know these will kill you.” Dick just grinned in a teasing way as he stomped out the cig.

“Been there. Done that. I think I’ll take my chances, especially if it helps me deal with nosey assholes like you.”

“You wound me, brother.” He dramatically placed the back of his hand on his forehead. “So, what’s the Fenton Portal like?”

“You know, if you ask them, I have a strong feeling they’ll show you.” Jason had no doubt the Fentons would do that. Glancing up, he caught sight of the metal monstrosity on the roof of the Fenton household. He gestured to it. “And that’s our destination.”

“How on earth is that even allowed?”

….

As predicted, the Fenton adults were more than happy to show Dick the portal after being introduced to them. Jason opted to stay in the kitchen while that occurred which was code for he was going to take a look around. However, he did make sure to ask two questions, one about the security system they had and the second about the hunk of metal they called the ops center.

Like Tim had found on his preliminary surveillance, their security system did include lasers. And after the quick demonstration via Jack, they quickly found out there were a lot of them. Who in their right mind did that in the main part of the house? He could see them doing that in the lab, but the staircase too? There were even metal claws and ecto-weaponry that appeared out of, well, everywhere.

After turning off the internal security, Maddie casually mentioned that the weapons vault under the stairs could withstand almost any attack. Who in their right mind mentioned something like that to a virtual stranger?

Moments after that, both Jazz and an exhausted looking Danny hurried down the stairs. After Jazz reprimanded her parents for turning on the security, she greeted him and introduced herself and Danny to Dick, followed by an apology about having them see that.

“Oh, Jazzy-pants, now that you’re here, can you show Jason the Ops Center? We were going to show Dick the portal, but he’s already seen that,” Jack requested while wearing his signature grin. Apparently, he was a morning person. If he wasn’t, how in the world was he so excited so early?

“Are you seriously going to open that thing again?” Jazz demanded.

“It’s perfectly safe. Besides, we’ll be there.”

“Your mother is right. If any ghost scum bursts through, we’ll be there to take care of it!” Jack puffed his chest out. He was certainly sure of himself, but Jazz and Danny just shared a look.

“It’ll be fine. We’ll just be a few minutes, and then we’ll met you up in the Ops Center.” With that, Maddie led the way down the stairs to their lab. Jack wrapped his arm around Dick’s shoulders as he escorted him while talking about ghosts.

Dick looked back at him in mild concern. Jason just smiled and waved.

“You’re not worried?” Jazz questioned, noticing his reaction.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’. “Dick can take care of himself. Anyways, sorry about the rude awakening. I asked about the security, but I wasn’t expecting a demonstration.”

Danny grumbled something before speaking up. “They’ll show anyone basically anything if they think there’s interest.”

“With how advanced some of this stuff is, I’m surprised they’re so lax about it.”

“Up until more recently, ghost hunting really wasn’t considered anything but quack science. Both of them are brilliant, but not being taken seriously for years has made them a bit enthusiastic about sharing information.” Jazz then turned to the coffee maker while Danny sat at the kitchen table and started nodding off again. “Let me make myself and Danny some coffee then we’ll take you on the tour.”

A few minutes later, coffee was made. Jason decided to tell a few harmless stories about his siblings, such as one of Dick’s disastrous attempts at using a chandelier as a trapeze, while Jazz and Danny slowly became more alert.

Things were going well until the Pit decided to, for lack of a better word, violently flare. It could feel the portal in the basement calling to it. While trying to hide it, the hand that had been keeping him steady while he leaned against the counter slipped causing him to stumble.

Danny was by his side in a moment, now wide awake. “Are you okay?” When he nodded, the kid added, “The Portal is pretty intense when it gets opened. You get used to it after a while. Is your hand okay?”

“What do you mean…?” He glanced at the hand that caused him to slip and found it had that strange washed out look from earlier. “Oh… That just started, and I think you’re the only person who might have an idea of what’s going on. But…” He nodded towards Jazz.

“Don’t worry, I know about Danny’s situation,” she explained as she moved towards a section of the wall and pressed an unassuming panel. A staircase appeared. “We’d probably move the conversation to the Ops Center though. We can at least get a few seconds of warning before someone bursts through the hatch with some sort of ecto-weapon.”

“I’m assuming that happened?”

“A lot. They’ve destroyed my bed a few times, attacked one of my teachers…” Danny frowned for a moment. “How many times was the mailman attacked before the post office started forcing them to come to the station to get it?”

“I think it was five.”

“How haven’t your parents been arrested?”

===================================

Notes: Firstly, I seriously can't find evidence of Jason using a grappling hook as an adult. I first noticed this in "Under the Red Hood", both the animated film and the comic. And after attempting to search for an instance myself and checking with other DC fans, it's apparently very rare to see him use one.

In the comic version of “Under the Red Hood”, Jason cut the back of his head to provide Bruce with a blood sample. In the movie, Bruce got it off of the sword of an assassin.

There is a wonderful panel of Jason fighting both Dick and Tim. One is being kneed in the groin and the other is being punched in the mouth. This was during what I affectionately call his bat shit crazy days.

I previously mentioned the two different variations of Jason's resurrection. Which version is canon can vary between DC reboots. And for some reason, my mind has decided that as an effect of that, some of the characters might have nightmares about alternative versions of bad experiences. In this case, it's Jason waking up in a coffin.

There is a fan comic I saw years ago which had Bruce occasionally doing normal businessman things to annoy the crap out of supervillains. The one I particularly remember is him putting a giant billboard of himself in front of Luthor’s penthouse view. I accept this occasional pettiness as a personal head canon.

One last note. Cass was killed by her mom and resurrected in a Lazarus Pit (I think this is still canon?), but she didn't have the so-called 'perfect' resurrection Jason did. As of right now, I don't think we have a proper explanation for why he did when others didn't. I'm going to make the assumption it either dealt with how he died or the length of time it took between death and the dip in the Pit.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

[ikleesfiction]

Miss Americana

Fandom : Crossover Hawaii Five-0 x Chicago PD TV Word count : 5,610 words Pairing : Steve McGarrett x Danny Williams; Jay Halstead x reader

Summary :  You met Williams-McGarrett family in Los Angeles and they introduced you to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Your boyfriend, Jay Halstead, doesn't know anything about this. Yet.

Author's note :

This is the fourth one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary.

This happened after I listened to a few podcasts (1  🞂  2  🞂 3) of Scott Caan and Alex O'Loughlin, passionately talking about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. 

This fic does not comply to the canon of Hawaii Five-0 or Chicago PD. So if you don't follow one of the other, it should not be a hindrance, I think. Here's hoping that I'm right.

Disclaimer

◢◤

"Would you like another cup of coffee?

You look up from the book in your hand to the waiter addressing you.

"Oh, I would love to. But it's already my fourth cup of the day," You grimace at him. "Maybe I'll take a bottle of water, please? Cold, if you have one."

The waiter grins at you, "Sure thing," then leave with your empty cup of coffee.

You are supposed to meet your friend, Tim, at his house on The Bird Streets to work on a song. However, he got a sudden appointment and asked you to wait for his call to reschedule. So here you are, sitting at a Cafe/Bistro somewhere in Los Angeles, drinking too much coffee.

You check your watch and your phone. It's almost lunchtime, but your phone is still showing nothing. Alright then, you thought to yourself, back to the book. Your eyes immediately find the last paragraph you read on Astrophysics for People in a Hurry.

Five pages later, the waiter puts a bottle of water on your table, "Here it is. You sure you don't want another cup of coffee?" He jokes with you.

You laugh in response, "No, really, thank you."

The waiter leaves with a smile and turns to the table across from yours. That's when you notice somebody's sitting there.

"Good afternoon. Only for two?" The waiter lays two menu cards on the table.

"Four. My husband and daughter are parking the car." The man answers him with a smile. He has a little boy sitting next to him. His son, you guess, since both of them have blond hair. Their noses look similar too.

"Danno, can I have ice cream for lunch?" The boy begs his father, pointing at one of the delightful pictures on the card.

"Hmm, maybe." The father hums his reply. He exchanges a knowing glance with the waiter.

"Do you want anything to drink while you're waiting?"

"Soda!" The boy yells from his chair, who laughs at his father's glare.

"How about two glasses of orange juice?" The father checks to his son before confirming it with the waitress.

"Okay, be right back with your drinks."

After the waiter leaves, the boy begins to prattle about everything to his father. About giraffes at the zoo ("They are so tall like Dad!"), about his favorite ice cream flavors ("Cookie Dough. But I like Kame's shave ice better, Danno"), about swimming at Venice Beach ("There's a lot of people there, Danno. I like our beach more")

The boy doesn't even look like he needs to breathe. You can't help but let out a chuckle. His father looks up at you and shares a grin. "That's great, Charlie," He comments to his son.

You let their conversation become a white noise while you read your book.

At your periphery, you see someone passes by. However, you don't expect a hand to suddenly sneak your phone from the table. Your hand instantly grabs that wrist, trying to stop it from stealing your phone. But the thief forcefully pulls his hand out of your reach and moves away.

Unfortunately for the thief, he runs straight to the father at your neighboring table. The man has no problem flipping the thief over and pushes him to their table. When the thief squirms away from his clutch, the man lifts the thief's elbow high up and turns it behind his back in a very painful lock. The unpleasant sound coming out of the thief's mouth proves how excruciating it is.

The man's eyes wander. Many shocked faces are staring at him, including yours. "It's okay, I'm a cop," He explains.

In contrast to the crowd, the boy looks at his father in awe, gleefully clapping his hands.

"Charlie, why are you clapping? You're not supposed to clap at this. Oh my god, you are just like your father! Happy to see any aggression," The man rants as he takes out a cable tie from his trousers' pocket. You don't even know why he got cable ties in his pocket. He efficiently ties the perp's hands behind his back and forces him to sit.

Only then, the man addresses the crowd again, "Has anyone called 9-1-1?"

"I did. The police are on the way," One of the cafe's staff squeaks from the door, with a phone still in her hand.

"Excellent! Did you hear that? Your ride would be here soon," The man tightly squeezes the thief's shoulders. The thief could only reply with an agonized grunt.

Everybody else resumes their activities with a sporadic look to their table.

The boy picks up the stolen phone from the floor. It fell near his foot during the short scuffle. "Danno," He hands your phone over to his father.

"Ah, thanks, Charlie," The man ruffles the kid's hair and kisses the top of his head.

"I believe this is yours?" The man returns the phone to you. "Hope it's still working?" He cringes at the spiderweb marks on the phone screen.

"Thanks. Probably not. But it's alright." You smile at the man and offer to shake his hand, "Y/N Y/LN, thanks again for helping me,"

The man takes your hand, "Hey, no big deal. Danny Williams. And this is my son, Charlie," Danny brings Charlie in front of him. You extend your hand to Charlie as well.

All of a sudden, you hear voices yelling from behind you. "Danno! Charlie!"

You look back to see a tall, dark, imposing man and a beautiful teenage girl rushing in your direction. Charlie shouts back at them, "Daddy! Gracie!"

So you guess they must be Danny's husband and daughter.

This new man drops down to Charlie's level and checks on him, trying to see if he's injured. "Are you okay? Charlie?"

"Dad! Dad! Danno was soooo cool! He pushing and then flipping and then that man went aaargh!" Charlie re-tells the scene to his father, holding his elbow behind his back to show him.

Couldn't really understand his son's story, the man asks his husband to elaborate, "Danny, what's happening here? Why are you arresting this man?"

"I'm not arresting anybody, Steve. We don't have jurisdiction to make an arrest, you know? Since we are in LA, not Hawaii? I'm just holding this man until LAPD shows up," Danny clarifies to his husband, Steve.

"But why?" Steve is still confused.

"This guy here, what's your name?" Danny barks at the thief. But his mouth stays glued. "Really? Would you prefer my ex-SEAL here asking you the question?" Danny gestures in Steve's direction.

Steve stands tall. His hands are folded in front of his chest. His biceps bulge in his tight t-shirt. The thief's face turns green, looking fearful. Steve's scowl was probably not helping either.

"Danny?? What's going on here?" Steve begins to lose his patience.

"What?? It's no big deal, babe!" Danny yells back at Steve. "This guy here tried to nick this woman's phone. I'm just helping her," Danny motions in your direction.

"Y/N, here's my husband, Steve McGarrett, and our daughter, Grace," Danny continues to introduce you to his family. You shake their hands and exchanging simple pleasantries.

"As I said, I just helped Y/N to get her phone back. Now we are waiting for LAPD," Danny ends his explanation.

Shortly a police car comes, and two officers quickly take their statements. Initially, the police officers are bemused to find the thief already sat with his hands tied behind his back. After Danny explains that he is a Detective from Honolulu PD and how he prevented the attempted theft, the police officers understand the situation. They ask if you'd like to press charges on Tom Norris, that's the thief's name according to his ID. Considering you're not hurt, you decline on pressing charges. The police are gone with the thief sooner than you expected.

"Can I treat you lunch for your trouble? Shoot! A super late lunch?" You corrected after checking your watch.

"Hey, don't worry, it's no trouble at all," Danny says to you with a big smile.

"No, no, seriously. You guys were on holiday, I guess. But still bothered to help me. Lunch is the least I can do."

Before long, they arrange to get a table for five and talk a lot during the meal.

◢◤

"So you guys are from Hawaii? That's nice!" You tell the family.

"See, Danno? That's what you're supposed to say about Hawaii. You're the only one who describes Hawaii as a pineapple-infested hell hole," laments Steve to his husband.

"I'm just telling the truth, babe. How about you, Y/N? Where are you from?" Danny tries to find out.

"Originally from The Netherlands, Amsterdam. But I moved to Chicago last year," You reply.

"Now that, Steve, is a city that would appreciate seasonal changes," Danny nods his approval of Chicago.

"Only you, Danno, who whines about constant sunshine." Steve grumbles.

Grace and Charlie don't react much to their parents' bickering. Too used to their silliness. But you still find it quite funny.

"So you guys are here for vacation?" You ask the family.

"Kind of. We are on holiday. Also, we are visiting the colleges here for Grace, who will graduate high school next year," Steve throws his right arm around Grace's shoulder.

"Yes, we are on an excursion to prove to Grace that LA universities are not better than the University of Hawaii," Danny quips from Steve's left.

Grace whines at his father, "Danno..."

"Danny here doesn't want his children to be far away from him," Steve enlightens you. "But I think going to school in LA would be better than The Netherlands. Wouldn't it, babe?" Steve winks at Grace.

"Do not joke about that, Steven!" Danny elbows his husband hard.

Grace looks thoughtful for a moment, "Y/N, did you go to college in the Netherlands? What do you think my chance to study there?"

"Gracie, can I come with you to This Otherlands?" Charlie innocently chirps to his sister.

Steve is laughing so loud, even after Danny punches his arm.

"What about you, Y/N? What are you doing in LA? Are you on vacation too?" Danny questions you after the laughter receded.

"I'm here for work. Most of the time, I'd do it remotely from Chicago. But sometimes I have to make the trip here or to Amsterdam," You tell them.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a music producer," You give a simple answer.

"What instruments do you play?" Steve is curious. "Guitar?"

"Mostly piano and synthesizer. I do play guitar, but I'm just an okay guitar player. I wish I could play better,"

"Dad plays guitar too!" Charlie happily declares as he points at Steve.

You cheer at Charlie's enthusiasm, "Does he? That's great!"

"Yeah, he plays very well. Maybe Dad can teach you to play better," Charlie directs you.

"Oh, yes, that would be awesome," You wholeheartedly agree with Charlie, as the rest of the table laughing at the idea of Steve teaches music.

◢◤

"Danny, I was wondering if you could explain something to me," You turn to the man.

"Shoot," Danny nods as he puts down his juice glass.

"The arm lock that you did to the thief. Where did you learn that? Did Steve teach you that?" You ask him, genuinely want to know.

"Well, even though Steve here was the Navy SEAL," Danny glares at his husband, who replies with a smirk, "I have been working as a cop for more than 20 years now. I know some moves too,"

"But that's not a cop's move," You contradict him.

"How do you know any cop's moves?" Danny confronts you back.

"My boyfriend is a cop in Chicago," You give Danny a sheepish smile.

"Ah, I see. Did your boyfriend teach you self-defense?"

"He did. I'm nowhere near good as Jay. But it's a start," You answer Danny.

"Of course. If he's not good at it, then he's not a good cop," Danny comments without sounding too arrogant.

"Jay also taught me about guns. Personally, I don't like it, but he needs me to know about it, especially gun safety. So..." You shrug.

Danny nods his understanding, "Yeah. Be glad that he doesn't bring home grenades or other explosives," Danny gives Steve a stink eye. "Unlike some Super!SEAL here,"

Steve is immune to that look. It doesn't seem to affect him anymore.

You smile at their interaction, "Jay was an Army Ranger. After he came back, he went to Police Academy,"

"Really?" Steve looks interested.

"Oh, here we go," Danny sighs at his husband.

Steve grins but decides not to comment on it any further. He goes praising Danny instead.

"But Danny is being too modest here. He is a great fighter. Sometimes he's even better than me. Which lots of people find it surprising, considering I was a SEAL,"

"and don't you forget it, babe," Danny smirks at Steve, who returns it with a chaste kiss.

You sigh internally. Looking at the lovely couple made you miss your boyfriend, Jay.

"In all seriousness," Danny begins, "I practiced Jiu-Jitsu since high school. That's where the moves come from," He pauses to sip on his drink.

"I got my Blue Belt when I entered The Police Academy. For me, I think, I learned how to fight better in Jiu-Jitsu than what they taught us there," Danny continues.

"Do you also teach it to Grace and Charlie?" You ask the parents.

"Yeah. Danny taught them both as early as possible. Grace already got her Yellow Belt when we first met. Now she is working for her Purple Belt," Steve brags. Danny also looks so proud. Grace, though, tries so hard not to roll her eyes at her parents.

"Me too! I will get my Yellow Belt soon! Right, Danno?" Charlie exclaims.

"Of course you are kiddo. After that, you surely can beat your Dad here," Danny ruffles Charlie's hair. Steve offers his palm for a high five, but Charlie punches it instead. He giggles when Steve is faking to be hurt by Charlie's tiny fist.

"Do you think I could learn it too?" You inquire to Danny.

Danny and Steve look at each other. You're waiting for their answer, hoping that they will agree.

Before they decide anything, Grace interrupts, "We can go check out the place that Sensei Egan told us, Danno."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Steve agrees to his daughter's suggestion. "We can check that dojo for Grace, meeting the instructor. Maybe could show some moves too for y/n,"

"Okay then. Grace, share the dojo address with y/n. We can meet you there tomorrow morning, what do you say, y/n?" Danny asks you.

You're supposed to fly back to Chicago next afternoon, but what the hell, you are very interested in this offer. "Yes, sure. If you don't mind me crashing your holiday plan again?"

"No, not at all. We need to check out that place anyway." Steve waves off your worry.

Grace passes her phone to you. "You can puy your number there. I will forward you the address,"

You tap your number to Grace's phone before groaning when you remember that your phone is dead. "Could you e-mail me instead? I don't think I could replace my phone soon,"

Danny doesn't even try to hold his laugh at your poor luck.

◢◤

The next day, you take an Uber to the gym. No, it's The Dojo. You correct yourself. When you step in, Charlie is shouting at you from across the room. "Y/N!" Standing next to his sister, Charlie crazily waves at you, worried that you could not see him.

You remove your shoes, placed them accordingly at the remarked spot. Walking towards Charlie and Grace, you see the Williams-McGarrett clan wear similar outfits with other people in The Dojo. The only differences between them are their belts. Danny wears a Black Belt with a red stripe, while Steve wears a Brown Belt. Grace has Blue Belt, and Charlie has a White one. Knowing that you will do some workout, you wear a black t-shirt and training pants. Definitely a contrast in a room full of jiu-jitsu outfits.

Danny and Steve are talking to a guy on the other side of the room. This guy has a Black Belt with more stripes than Danny's, indicating that he is the instructor here.

"Hey, guys. Good morning," You greet Grace and Charlie. They reply with a big smile.

"Just out of interest, do you guys always bring your uniform on your holiday?" You gesture to Grace's clothes.

Grace laughs at your question, "It is called Gi. Yes, we are always bringing them along on holiday," She laughs again at your shocked face. "No, I'm joking. It's because we know we will visit this dojo, so we have our Gi with us,"

Soon Danny and Steve come over to your side. "Hi, y/n. So I talked to Sensei Marcus there," Danny gestures to the guy he spoke to. "We are going to follow their training for today. You can watch from the side if you're not sure you want to do it. The first hour would be the class for Kids and Teens,"

You see Grace and Charlie lining up in the center of the room with other children. They seem to be divided by belts instead of age.

"The next hour would be the adult class," Danny pauses for a moment. "If you want my suggestion, I encourage you to join the Teens class. I hope you don't feel insulted by that."

You chuckle at his words, "Not at all. I understand,"

"If it's too much, don't hesitate to stop and move aside. Everyone will understand," Steve adds.

You exhale softly, readying yourself, "Okay," before joining the line.

The first fifteen minutes, they start with stretching. So far, you have no problems with it. You practice Yoga for the last few years. You know how to stretch.

The next one, they teach you how to fall correctly. Which turns out to be a hard thing to do. At first, an instructor's assistant helps you. After a few moments, she moves away to help others. But you're still not doing it right. So Danny pulls you aside and teaches you privately for the rest of the hour.

You fall so many times until it tired you out. You cannot even get up from the mat. Your shoulders would have been bruised with so many times you landed incorrectly.

"Still interested to learn this?" Danny grabs your hand to help you get up.

Even though the lesson exhausts you, you feel great. You learn a lot, even from doing the same thing over and over again. "Hell yeah!" You grin at Danny.

"Crazy woman!" Danny pats your shoulders. Right where it hurts the most. You can't help but flinch away.

"Hurt, wasn't it? Why don't you go sit down on the outside of the mat with Charlie?"

Charlie sits on one side of the mat, a bottle of water in his hand. He is watching Grace, who has her hands on Steve's Gi, trying to throw Steve down.

Danny silently pays attention to his husband and daughter on the mat. But you can see his hands slightly move as if he's the one sparring.

Shortly, Grace has a chance to push Steve. Steve lost his balance for a moment before countering her attack. Grace would've fallen down hard if Steve didn't hanging to Grace's Gi so tight to slow her fall.

"That's great, Grace," Steve says to his daughter as he helps her up. They bow to each other to end the spar. Danny is clapping from outside the mat, "Good job, Monkey,"

Of course, you and Charlie follow Danny's example to cheer for Grace.

You still sit on the side of the mat, now also accompanied by Grace. You watch the next class practice, where Danny and Steve spar with other students for about an hour.

After the class is done, Steve taps on Danny's shoulder, "Danny, could you help me with this move?" He nods in the direction of the mat.

Danny responds with rolling eyes at his husband's antics.

Grace runs commentary in the background, "Dad didn't actually need help from Danno. However, you're not allowed to ask a higher belt to spar with. It's a sign of disrespect. But Dad and Danno often work differently between each other,"

You see Danny and Steve taking place at a ready position. It takes time before anybody falls, or one locks each other. They move fluidly. When one throws the other, they quickly bring them down along then keep them in a lock. The locks are soon countered, and they back up again. The great thing is they look like they enjoy sparring with each other. They share a laugh whenever someone throws the other or someone holds the other in a lock. You find that very interesting.

The sparring ends when Danny makes a grappling move that Steve cannot counter, so he has to tap out.

After the sparring, Steve sits back with you and his kids while Danny goes over to Sensei Marcus. Steve asks your opinion about Jiu-Jitsu, whether you're still interested to learn it.

"Very much, yeah. The first thing I will do once I'm back in Chicago is to find a Dojo," You excitedly tell Steve.

"Well, lucky for you, Sensei Marcus here knows a lot of Jiu-Jitsu instructors," All of a sudden, Danny joins your conversation. Sensei Marcus stands beside him.

"Sure, if you want to keep learning Jiu-Jitsu, I will give you some references of my fellows in Chicago," Marcus informs you.

"That would be awesome!"

Marcus shakes your hand, "Good luck!" and moves to shake hands with the rest of the Williams-McGarrett family. "Thanks for visiting our dojo. Please come again whenever you're in LA,"

They all look tired, but their smiles beam as bright as Hawaiian sunshine.

◢◤

Two weeks later, in Chicago,

You see your boyfriend's truck parked in front of your house as you walk home from the bus stop. You walk much slower than you used to. Your body is hurting all over the place, but you feel elated.

The day after you came home from Los Angeles, Jay was caught in a hard case. He had to fly out to New York and liaised with NYPD SVU to solve it.

You missed him a lot, for sure. Jay called you whenever he could for these past two weeks. Texted you every day too. But you have not got the chance to tell Jay about your new interest in Jiu-Jitsu.

After your last trip to LA, you promptly checked out the Dojo that Sensei Marcus referred to you. You were thrilled to find out that it's only fifteen minutes bus ride from your house.

You met with one of the instructors there and asked for a private class. Because that's what Danny advised you to do. "After you have a better understanding of the lessons, then I want you to go train with other people at the dojo. But for the first five or six months, you might've been better with one-on-one lessons,"

The instructor, Professor Louisa, is delighted to provide. You work on a schedule three to four times a week. The professor initially suggested only two meets in a week. But considering your occasional trip abroad for work, you prefer to do more lessons when you're in town.

This is the third week you've been learning jiu-jitsu in Chicago. Scraps and bruises are inevitable. Jay would freak out if he saw them before you could explain to him.

Jay's flight back from New York landed about two hours ago. He must've been coming directly to your place from the O'Hare. The house smells amazing when you enter the room. Following your nose leads you to the kitchen. You find your boyfriend pulling out what seems to be garlic bread from the oven, "Hey, babe. You're back!"

"Hey, you! Perfect timing!" Jay secures the tray aside before stepping closer to you. He puts one hand on your waist, the other one on your back. Moving even closer to kiss you.

His passion makes you forget your bruises for a moment. When Jay pushes you playfully, your shoulder hits the nearest wall. You instantly cry out in pain. "Argh!"

"What's wrong?" Jay stops everything he's doing to you right away.

"Nothing, I just got some bruises," You rub the pain from your shoulder.

"How come?" Jay begins to take off your t-shirt to check on the bruises, but you move away from his grasp.

"Hold on. Let me take a shower. I must've been rank from sweat. Then I'll tell you everything," You kiss Jay one more time before going to the bedroom.

As you eat the pasta primavera that Jay made, you ask him about his case in New York, "How was it?"

"It's done. We did what we have to do,"

Not interested in talking about his case, Jay interrogates you instead, "So, where did you get the bruise? I swear, I only left the city for two weeks, and you're already in trouble," Jay shakes his head.

"I'm not! I just joined this gym. Dojo, I meant. I'm taking Jiu-Jitsu lessons!" You cheerfully tell Jay.

"You what?" Jay pauses from drinking his wine.

So you told Jay the whole story. About how someone tried to snatch your phone when you're in LA. How you met the Williams-McGarrett family from Hawaii. How they got you into jiu-jitsu.

"It's so fun, Jay. Yeah, sure, I got bruises and scraps. But whenever I got stuck with my work, I go have a practice at the dojo, and then I come home feeling energized," You confess to your boyfriend.

"Really?" Jay looks at you, disbelieving.

"Uhuh," You nod as you swallow your spaghetti. "You know what, you should come and see the dojo. It might interest you too,"

"I know about martial arts, babe. I taught you how to punch, remember?" Jay reminds you.

"Yes, you did," You say in giggles, "Professor Louisa said she won't teach me how to punch,"

"Of course, Jiu-jitsu has a different approach than other martial art, say karate. Or boxing," Jay puts down his fork on the empty plate. "You sure you enjoy it?"

You hold Jay's hand and look into his eyes, "I am. This is something I want to do seriously, Jay. I admit part of it comes from you and your job. Like you always said, I need to be able to defend myself. Because you think I could get drag into your case one day,"

Jay puts his other hand on top of yours, looking somehow regretful, "Babe..."

"No, no. But I also do this for myself. Even though my body hurts, I feel great about myself. I feel more confident. It's really inspiring,"

Jay brings your hand to his lips, "Okay then, as long as you're happy with it. But I'm still going to take you to the gun range,"

You roll your eyes in response, "Of course, you will,"

◢◤

A week later, Jay walks up to The Dojo on the second floor. Someone greets him at the entrance, "Hey, man. Can I help you?"

"I suppose to pick up my girlfriend. She is training with..." Jay tries to remember the instructor's name. "Louisa?"

"Ah, yes, Professor Louisa. You must be y/n's boyfriend. I'm Professor Andy, the head of this dojo," The man offers his hand.

"Jay Halstead," Jay shakes Andy's hand.

"I think she will finish in ten minutes. You wanna see her practice?"

"Sure. If it would not be disturbing?" Jay hesitates.

"Not at all. Y/n is the only one in there right now," Andy directs Jay inside the dojo. He asks Jay to remove his shoes before stepping into the room.

Jay watches his girlfriend silently. He winces a couple times when you fall down. But he is amazed to see you immediately stand up again.

"She's resilient, your woman is,"

Jay chuckles at Andy's remark, "Yes, she is,"

Shortly after you bow to your instructor, you see Jay standing on the side with Professor Andy.

You walk towards them with a smile, "I see you met my boyfriend, Prof,"

"I did, yeah," Andy nods. "I don't think Jay would be interested in jiu-jitsu, though," He comments.

"Correction, I'm not interested to see you got thrown down repeatedly," Jay points out.

"Hey!" You hit Jay's arms as both Professors laugh at you.

"But that's how we are supposed to learn. If you don't know how to fall, you won't get back up again," Louisa says serenely.

Andy hums his agreement before ushering you out. "Alright, get out of here, you lovebird,"

When you're in the locker room, changing your Gi, Jay approaches Andy again. But before Jay could say anything, Andy hands a leaflet to him.

"Y/N told me you're a police officer. You might be interested in these classes,"

Jay takes it with a laugh, "Thanks, man. I'll check it out," He puts the leaflet on his jacket pocket and pulls out his card.

"If anything happens when Y/N is here. Or if you need anything I can help with, please give me a call," Jay sounds solemn.

Andy takes the card, "Don't worry, man. We take good care of our students here,"

"I know," Jay nods.

Soon you come out with a gym bag on your shoulder. "See you next week, Prof!"

Andy waves to the couple, "Bye, y/n. See you again, Jay!"

◢◤

Two years later,

You step out of the record store in Pilsen empty-handed, failing to find the vinyl you're looking for. You start walking west to the bus stop when you hear a commotion ahead.

You see a guy pushing people out of his way. He keeps looking behind his back like he's running from something.

"Police! Get out of the way!" You hear other voices shouting.

So this guy seems to be running from the police, you thought to yourself.

The man tries to shove you aside, but your reflex is much better. Your hands instantly grab the front of his shirt. When he tries to push you away, your right foot finds his inner left calf and sweeps him down.

When he tries to move away from your grasp, you lean down and grip his right wrist tightly with your right hand. You put your right elbow beside his right ear while your left elbow is placed underneath his elbow. Your left-hand moves to hold your right wrist from below his right hand. His arm is essentially locked when your left bicep snugs against his right tricep. You raise your elbow slightly from the surface. The more he wiggles his way out, the higher you raise his elbow from the surface, the more painful the lock is.

You hear an impressed whistle from above. When you look up, you find Jay and Hailey standing in front of you. Jay gets a huge grin on his face while Hailey is sporting a shocked look.

"Nice takedown, babe," Jay compliments you.

"Thanks. You might wanna take over from here, though," You say to your boyfriend as you hear few more steps rushing towards you.

You loosen the lock after you are sure Jay gets his hand on the perp. He grabs the suspect up from the floor and pushes him towards the wall.

You find a hand extends in front of your face, offering to help you stand up. You look up to see it was Hailey. You take her hand with a soft thanks.

Once you're back on your feet, you look around to see the other members of the Intelligence Unit staring at you. Adam, Kim, and Kevin are mirroring Hailey's initial look of surprise. Jay's boss, Hank Voight, looks impassive as always. But you catch an amused twitch at one corner of his lips.

"Man, at least give me time to feel my hand again! That bitch could break my arm, you know!" you hear the perp complaining when Jay prepares to cuff him.

Without saying anything in response, Jay folds the perp's wrist inside. The perp yells even louder because of the wristlock.

Kevin moves to take the man away from Jay before any further damage could happen. He ushers the perp right away to a nearby cop car.

Jay turns to check on his girlfriend, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You nod back at him.

"I didn't know you could do that, Y/N," Hailey tells you. "You never tell me that your girlfriend practiced any martial arts," She continues to slap Jay's shoulder.

You answer with a sheepish smile, "It's kinda new,"

"Blue Belt in Jiu-Jitsu is not "kinda new" babe," Jay elbows you playfully.

The team boss pats your shoulder once before walking back to his car, "Good job, Y/LN,"

Kim, who's partnered up with Voight today, quickly follows. But not before inviting you for drinks, "You have to tell me all about this over drinks!"

"See? Even Voight agrees. We'll make a cop-out of you soon, Y/N," Adam offers his fistbump to you.

You meet his with your fistbump but shake your head, laughing, "Not in a million years, Ruzek,"

He only replies with his laugh and walks towards Kevin and the perp.

Jay puts his arm around your shoulders with a huge smile, "C'mon, Kev and Ruz can take care of the perp for a while. Hailey and I will drop you home."

[britcision]

………….

Danny didn’t know Bruce was Batman

Please

Please I need this

Danny comes to meet all his nephews and nieces and they just bring him down to the batcave expecting him to know since Bruce named him the next bat

Danny takes a look around, smiles at the kids, excuses himself to the bathroom

The bathroom does nothing to stop them from hearing the SCREAMING

“BRUCE YOU SON OF A FUCK YOU KNOW I HATE UNDERGROUND SECRET LAIRS YOU PIECE OF SHIT WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE FUCK YOU SAID YOU WERE DIFFERENT YOU ACTUAL ASSHOLE YOU BETTER FUCKING NOT BE DEAD BECAUSE I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU”

(It’s a serious occasion but Cass is still giggling softly)

Danny comes back out looking perfectly fine, all normal, smile twitching just a bit, and they finally explain why he’s here. That they thought he knew Bruce’s alter ego, but if he doesn’t want the mantle…

Danny looks at the lot of ‘em (they’re all there because Plot Convenience fight me), knows exactly what happens if he doesn’t take it, and snatches it angrily

Spends the next 8 hours pretending he is not OBSESSED with his swishy cape

Tim goes to Danny as a last ditch effort with his desperate theory about Bruce not being dead and they need to go get him and Danny just nods casually like it’s obvious

Just “yeah if he was dead I’d know, guess it’s questing time to find out what the fuck actually happened”

After being treated for so long like he’s deluded or grieving or just plan wrong, Tim is floored and asks why tf Danny believes him. How would he know if Bruce was dead??

Danny pats him on the shoulder “takes one to know one kid”

And yeah, Danny has to bat around Gotham with the kids for very important morale reasons, but Tim has full bat resources, backup on standby, and even Dick stops telling him as gently as possible to move on after Danny goes ghost in front of them and declares himself a professional opinion on vital status

(No one even tries to argue Bruce might not become a ghost, he practically was one already he already has the obsession and the haunt)

Mind you, he always needs at least one minder because not only did Danny not know Bruce was Batman he also has no fucking clue what Batman do

Jason, Dick, and Damian all alternately play “he wouldn’t say that” irl with Danny in increasing exasperation

Steph and Cass encourage him whole heartedly

Babs is making a full file of Danny videos for Bruce’s return

Also they just don’t tell the JL about the switch for Mysterious Plot Reasons I Have Not Thought Of Yet because it’s funny to me

Superman has to come quietly tell Danny he knows he isn’t Bruce but the kids are backing him, and Bruce told Clark all about his bestie/kids godfather

Danny grins back and says it’s nice to meet him and his present for Bruce when Bruce gets back (as vengeance for lumping all this on Danny without telling him as Bruce tends to do) is to come back and learn Batman has started being slowly nicer and nicer

If the League notices, they can bully Bruce over being a grump

If they don’t, Bruce has to fess up or be nicer Batman

Bruce and Danny being old friends (possibly more but settled back into friends) and Danny being the Batkid's godfather. Like Bruce some how names Danny each kid's Godfather and asked him to take care of them if anything happens to Bruce.

Now the kid's vaguely know that Bruce has a long time friend who isn't Clark, having heard various Phone calls between Bruce ad the constantly traveling Danny and Bruce has told them about Danny. But some how they never met him.

This all comes to a head when Bruce "dies" (gets lost in the time stream) and they learn of his contingency plan for if he died. For Danny to take care of them and for him to take over the mantel of Batman as Bruce knew none of his kids wanted it. (Or that it didn't suit them despite them trying to deny the fact *Damian*)

[stokcd-a]

just....talk about slaughter!tim...thank u

meta | @audaciiae but also tagging @hivebody cause they asked about it 

God, most of those are incoherent thoughts because I'm simply in love with the concept but y'know —

There's a lot of things coming into play with it. He hasn't really been aligned towards it before at the earliest maybe mid to late S2. There have been some very vague things that would later point to it but could have easily become something else (the obsession with researching about the Circus is driven by that urge for revenge which will later grow into it, but might as well have been Hunt back then), but it's first Jon's paranoia and later his own that really grow into it. It's growing isolation: his one best friend being busy with himself and accusing him of various terrible things practically out of nowhere, having a changed relationship to the other that doesn't quite feel right without being able to explain why until later figuring out she's been replaced, and in general he's just feeling incredibly left alone. Sure, they are all going through things, but everyone is so busy with worrying about Jon and making sure Jon is okay and entirely dismissing that maybe just once, he'd like to talk about things too — which is the second time something awful happened and having nobody to turn to, so what he has been eating into himself and tried to lock away after Danny's death now flares up in irritation and anger. It's also around this time that he really realizes he's been aligning himself always towards what other people need of him and never really taking care of himself first, and now people take it for granted, which is also something that feeds that anger both at other people and at himself because he cannot change it. Even when he tries, he's still what others need him to be until the very end; even if they maybe don't realize that.

It's a lot of bitterness towards being left alone in a way, and just being told to suck it up basically, if acknowledged at all. It gets significantly worse after realizing Sasha has been long dead, of course, for several reasons — one, having to admit that he cannot protect any of the people he cares about (having two dead and seeing one spiral down into some form of madness that he cannot get him out of and that scares him and that he doesn't know how to deal with, either), and of course being suddenly aware that he cannot trust anyone, not even himself. That along with all the other lies and being stuck and bound to this place only really leaves two options: either curl up into himself and give into the fear, or fight it with every tool possible, and that's how he really spirals into Slaughter. They need a weapon, and he's always been what they need: so if that's all the option left for him, then he'll be that. Besides, rage and the urge for revenge is better than the absolute powerlessness that sits on the other side.

(I genuinely believe that if he had survived the Unknowing, then that would have pushed him over in itself; I know desolation is the fan favorite theory but just because something is fire-y doesn't mean it's that, there's so many more signs towards his anger and aggression in favor of being able to do anything at all, and there is a cruelness in the way he interacts with anyone at all at this later point. He lashes out at people with the intent to hurt, because that hides his own pain and his own inability to fix anything.)

Conall of course steps in there before it becomes entirely self destructive, before it reaches the point of being all he's still able to do and think about and not being able to deal with the consequences, and shapes it into something a little more pointed. Tim turns himself into a ragged knife that would break upon being used once; Conall sees the potential for an actual useful weapon, and I'm not going into more detail here with this because I'm actually myself interested into seeing where this ends up going in itself.

Naturally, fully becoming still needs a little push and that probably is still the Unknowing, but with already being close enough to something Avatar that it goes all a little different; how exactly I haven't yet figured out but will probably write in length about in the future. And funnily the realization is likely the last straw: this man absolutely hates Avatars after all, and becoming something like that himself would once again feed into the options of either powerlessness or anger, and between them, he will always choose his anger.

It also means it's very intense. Coherent thoughts get harder the worse the pull of Slaughter gets as well until it becomes a need that's overbearing almost everything else. Especially with the focus on the Stranger still; the paranoia of not having hurt the Circus enough or of any of them surviving feeds into this, and so does Not!Them's existence, so interacting with anything or anyone Stranger-aligned is most certainly overshadowed by this need for violence, but even otherwise: there are bad mood swings, there's a certain cruelness in how he interacts with other people. It doesn't always have to be physical violence.

(Also, he has a battle axe because it's sexy and I say so.)

[eldritchteaparty]

Chapters: 14/20 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano, Oliver Banks, Original Elias Bouchard, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane, Melanie King, Georgie Barker, Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Basira Hussain Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood, Character Death In Dream, Nudity (not sexual or graphic), Nightmares, Fighting

Summary: Following the events of MAG 200, Jon and Martin find themselves in a dimension very much like the one they came from--with second chances and more time.

Chapter summary: Martin tells Tim everything that’s happened to him and Jon, and about the fear entities that now inhabit this dimension.

Read above at AO3 or read here below!

Tumblr master post with links to previous chapters is here.

***

“Damn.” Tim stood up and looked down at Jon lying on the bed, where he and Martin had just deposited him. “He is really out of it.”

“Yeah. That—that happens.” Martin decided it was a little cool in the bedroom, and pulled the blanket over Jon. When he looked up again, Tim was staring at him in a very specific way that he decided to ignore. “Thanks for helping me get him back here.”

“Well, you definitely weren’t getting any help from him. So… are we still doing this?”

“Yeah.” Martin took one last look at Jon; at least he still looked peaceful. “Let’s, um—let’s go to the sitting room. Can I get you some tea? Or—”

“No.” Tim shook his head as they made their way back out of the bedroom. “Can I ask—are we doing this now because Jon is knocked out?”

“No,” Martin said immediately, then thought a little more. “Well—mostly no.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means—” Martin tried to think of the best way to say it. “Look, he knows we have to tell you. I just don’t get the feeling he—I think it’s better if I do it.”

“Better for who?”

“I—” Martin sighed. “Look—we can wait until he wakes up, if you want.”

“Nope.” Tim sat on the couch and turned to Martin. “That’s all right.”

Martin grabbed the chair from Jon’s desk and brought it over to face Tim. As he did so, he realized he’d thought through how to tell certain parts of the story quite a lot, but others not nearly as much. One thing he hadn’t really thought about at all was how to start.

“Are you sure you don’t want tea?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Fine. Ok—ok. So.” He took a deep breath. “Five years ago—about—we all started working in the archives together. Sasha applied for the head archivist job and she got it; she asked you and Jon to take assistant positions, and I interviewed for the third one and—well, Sasha gave me a chance. Right?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Right…”

“And since then—I mean, we’ve done, like—pretty normal archive stuff. And sure, the Institute is a bit off, like—the stuff people want us to store for them and the research and all that, but it’s been fine, right?”

“Um…”

“I mean compared to what’s been happening since—since Jon and I disappeared.”

“Yeah, ok. I’ll give that to you.” Tim continued to look at him expectantly.

“Ok. Ok. Well—it happened a different way, too. Some—somewhere else.”

“Ok.” Tim sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“And look—no matter how I tell this—it’s not going to make sense until I really get it all out. So—”

“I’m listening.”

“Right. It’s just that it’s—”

“Martin.”

“Ok. So five years ago, in this—other place, we all started working in the archives. Only—only Sasha wasn’t the head archivist, Jon was.”

Tim shifted his weight on the couch, but didn’t uncross his arms. “You know he applied for the position? I’m not supposed to—no one knows I know that, actually. Not even Jon.”

“Huh.” Martin hadn’t been aware. “I mean—I didn’t know either, but that makes sense.”

“Does it? We all knew Sasha was applying, and she was way more qualified. Nothing against Jon, just—objectively, she was.”

“I mean that it makes sense given—well, ok, we’ll get to that. So you know the people here that started coming in to talk to us—the interviews and the—the statements, the written ones—the thing is, there, that was what we did. It was what we’d always done at the Magnus Institute, in the archives. The written statements, they went back years. Like, two hundred years and then some from before the Institute existed. And we researched them and filed them and we all just—it was normal.”

Tim was listening, which was all Martin could ask.

“So we—we didn’t necessarily believe all of them—though maybe we did more than we said—but then—Jane Prentiss happened.”

Martin told him everything he could remember about it, everything that he could organize into sentences, and Tim’s expression stayed almost the same the entire time. He realized Tim was still trying to decide what to make of it when he got to the part about Sasha being replaced, because even after hearing about what happened to him and Jon with the worms, that was really the first time Tim’s face changed.

“Wait.” Tim finally interrupted him. “This—this happened, or—”

“Yes,” Martin said, “and I know, it doesn’t make sense yet—”

“But—this happened to you? Us? Sasha?”

“Yes.”

“When, though? When you—disappeared, or—”

“No. That happened at the end. Just—”

“Ok. Ok—but Sasha, she—she changed? She became this—”

“No. She—she was replaced. Sasha—” He didn’t like thinking about it now any more than he ever had. “Sasha died. She was gone. And none of us knew.”

“But if none of us knew—”

“Well, that’s not entirely true, Melanie knew, sort of. And then later Jon figured it out, but—well, there’s more. Just—just listen.”

“Does this come back to—to now, though?”

“Yes. In the end, it—it will.”

Martin took another breath and continued; Tim seemed much more invested now than he had been initially, and that unfortunately made it a little harder to tell the story. He eventually got to the part about Tim and what happened to Danny.

“Wait.” As soon as Tim realized where it was going, he leaned forward, uncrossing his arms. “Start over again.”

So Martin started over again, and this time he got all the way through to the end before Tim interrupted him.

“Why Danny? Why would that happen to him?”

Martin shrugged, then regretted it as he realized what a casual gesture it was. “I don’t know. It’s not really clear why—why anyone.”

“But what did he do? Why?”

“Tim, he didn’t do anything. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Why didn’t I stop it, though? Did I say why I didn’t at least stop him from going back? I mean, he came to me.”

“Tim—” Martin stood up from his chair and sat next to Tim on the couch. “You didn’t know. You couldn’t have.”

“But if this happened—this happened?”

“Yes. It happened.”

“I would have known something wasn’t right. He came to me. How hard would it have been to—to just stay up with him?”

“Tim, that’s not how they work.”

“They. The—the fears?”

“Yes. And the people and the—things—that serve them.” Martin ran a hand over his face before continuing. “They manipulate you. They—they trap you. Like they trapped all of us at the Institute.”

“So you said. So what—I just let it go? I went to work at the Institute but then just forgot about it?”

“No. Not at all. Actually, after that, you—well, ok.” He told Tim everything he’d learned about the Unknowing, everything that Basira and later Jon had told him about it.

“Good,” Tim said, after Martin told him how it had ended. “At least I knew how to go out, anyway.”

Martin cringed as the memory of cleaning out Tim’s desk after Peter Lukas took over the Institute hit him all over again. Tim might have seen it, or maybe he didn’t, but either way he sat back on the couch again and seemed to collect himself.

“Go on. I still don’t know where this is all going. And you still haven’t said anything about why Elias was doing all this. Why he was trapping everyone into working at the Institute for the—the Eye?”

“Yeah. Right. Well—he wasn’t. Not really.” Martin continued the story, explaining how he had done his best to try to protect everyone after Peter had taken over the Institute, but ultimately hadn’t done anything at all except fall into another trap. He explained how Jon had woken up and his abilities had been stronger, how Jon had done everything he could to keep everyone safe and to prevent any further rituals—but in the end, that too had all been a manipulation. He told Tim how he and Jon had learned that Jonah Magnus had been operating through the successive heads of the Magnus Institute.

“So—Elias, then—”

“We never met him. Not really.”

“Ok—go on. So Jon came after you, and then what?”

“We left. We went as far away as we could get quickly.”

“You and Jon—together?”

Martin had left out some of the more personal details of the story, but Tim had read between the lines. Martin nodded.

“Fair enough. Go on.”

“Well—it wasn’t far enough. Jonah knew where we were—”

“Well, yeah—”

Martin sighed. “—and he used Jon to trigger an apocalypse. It turned out that everything Jon had been doing—all the avatars he’d confronted, all the things he’d done to try to save us, the rituals he’d been trying to stop—they’d all marked him. He’d been marked by every single entity, and Jonah used that to start an apocalypse. He unleashed all the fears.”

“What?”

“Like—the world ended. It was just fear. Everywhere. People were trapped in these domains and they couldn’t leave them and they just lived their fear. And the Eye—watched it all. Through Jonah.”

“What? I’m sorry, I just—”

“Literally the end of the world. I can’t really say it any differently. Like there was one where everything was on fire, and another one that was just a giant carousel but—well, never mind that—and oh god, once we had to jump off the side of a cliff—”

“All right, I’ll just—accept that, I guess?—I did not think that was where this was going—but ok, how did you say Jon started this exactly?”

“He didn’t. Jonah did.”

“Ok but—he used Jon—how?”

“He sent a statement. And Jon read it. He still needed to do that. Obviously we didn’t know it was from him—we thought Basira sent it—”

“Fuck. Really?”

“Yeah, well.”

“And you didn’t stop him?”

“I wasn’t there. Just—for a moment. I told you, they always had this way of—”

“Never mind. But I still don’t get it. You said this all happened. So… why are we here?”

“It didn’t happen here. It happened—I’m getting there.”

He skipped most of the journey through the apocalypse; he picked up again when they got back to London and reunited with Melanie and Georgie. He explained how they had found Jonah, and how Jon had realized he had the option to take over the apocalypse in Jonah’s place.

“And—what?” Tim asked. “End it?”

“No.” Martin shook his head. “He couldn’t do that. We weren’t sure what he could do exactly, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He could maybe—shift things around. Maybe make it not so bad for—for some people. For a while.” He deliberately didn’t explain exactly what that meant, and very deliberately left out the other option Jon had eventually arrived at.

“So—did he?”

“Not—not then. We didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye on—that.”

Tim nodded.

Martin decided to skip some other details too. “Well—not long after, Annabelle Cane—”

“The—the spider person?”

“Yeah. She told us about another way. A way that we could end it. By—by letting the fears out.”

“Out? Out where?”

“There was a—a crack. A gap. Um—between dimensions. That place—where all this happened—it turns out it was just one of who knows how many realities.”

“Ok. Why would she tell you that, though? Didn’t they like it there?”

“She said—she said at the time that, eventually, that whole world was doomed. In the end, the—well, Death—the fear of Death—would kill everything, and the entities would remain alone with nothing left to—to feed them. And obviously she didn’t want that.”

“Oh.” Martin could see that the wheels in Tim’s head were starting to turn; he’d have to pick up the pace a little bit more if he wanted to tell it himself.

“So—we voted.”

“You voted.”

“Yeah. And we voted to let them out. To end it.”

“Right. Ok—makes sense, I guess, but—what did that mean? I guess you would get rid of them, but—then where would they go?”

Martin paused a moment. “We—we didn’t know. We talked about it a lot but in the end—we couldn’t know, and we knew the people in that place were suffering. And the other option was Jon taking over. Given that he couldn’t stop it, that didn’t seem like it should be a real option to—to most of us. Well, some of us.”

Tim glanced back in the direction of the bedroom. “I can see that. Ok—so you voted to let them out. Did you?”

Martin considered what he should say; he opted for the short version. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

“And what happened? Did the apocalypse end?”

“Jon says it did.”

“What—what does that mean?”

“Jon and I—we—we ended up here.”

“Here? What do you mean?” Tim narrowed his eyes and looked hard at Martin.

“Jon and I ended up here. On the—in front of the Institute. And you found us. Eventually. After a couple of months, I’m guessing.”

Tim didn’t move for about thirty seconds, then his eyes went wide and he jumped up from the couch.

“No. No no no no—”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to the Jon and Martin that were here, then? Where did they—”

“We’re them, too. It’s really hard to—”

“Wait. Did they—the—fears, the entities, whatever you call them—did they come here too?”

“Yes.” Martin looked down at his feet.

“And that’s why all this—no. No. Did you—did you know? Did you know they would end up here?”

“I told you we didn’t.”

“You didn’t know what would happen and you all just decided to send them on out? Like a big goddamn gift to—to—”

“We didn’t know. And—” Martin took a breath. “We didn’t all decide that. Jon—Jon didn’t want to.”

“But he let you. And anyway, it doesn’t count if he only didn’t want to because he got to be some kind of—what, apocalypse god?”

“It wasn’t like that that.”

“All right, what was it like then? Explain.”

“He didn’t really want to do it. It was—he would have—”

“I would have ended it.” Martin on the couch, and Tim in front of it, both turned their head toward the hallway where Jon was now standing.

Tim answered faster than Martin could. “Martin said you couldn’t end it.”

“I couldn’t make it go away. There were other ways to end it.”

“Jon—”

“Don’t protect me, Martin. Not—like that.”

Martin looked at Tim’s face again; he was deep in thought.

“It was your decision, then?” he finally asked Jon.

“Yes.”

“Why did you let them out?”

Martin interrupted. “I told you, we voted, and—”

“Martin,” Jon said gently, and Martin stopped.

Tim waited.

“I tried to keep them there, but I didn’t—I didn’t plan for everything. And in the end, there were—sacrifices I wasn’t willing to make. That I still wouldn’t make.” He met Martin’s eyes, and Tim also turned slowly back to Martin.

“Jesus Christ.”

Martin continued to hold Jon’s eyes, but he could see Tim furiously typing into his phone next to him. For the first time ever, he vaguely wished that he could know what Jon was thinking. It would have almost been worth it.

“Jon—”

“It’s all right.” He was still speaking in the same soft voice. “It really is. It was time. But I am—I am going to have a cigarette.” Jon walked out to the balcony, and a few moments later the faint smell of smoke wafted in through the door. Everything felt like it had slowed down for Martin; Tim seemed able to move at an impossibly fast pace as he answered his phone and started shouting into it.

“Just—just come over here,” he was saying, as Martin began to make sense of his words. “No, you need to hear this from them, there’s no way I can—well if they’re closing the place, it sounds like you have to leave. No, just come straight here. Sasha—no, believe me, none of it matters. None of it. Just leave.”

He hung up his phone and looked blankly at Martin for a moment; he started to say something, but then shook his head and held out a finger toward Martin.

“No. No, there are some things I need to hear from him.” He started out toward the balcony, and Martin stood up.

“Tim—leave him alone. He’s—”

“It’s fine,” Jon called into the flat. “I’ll—I’ll talk to him. It’s ok.”

“Damn right, you’ll talk to me. I need to—” One of them closed the door to the balcony and Martin could only hear Tim’s general intonations; he could barely hear Jon at all. In a moment he gave up trying to listen, and sat down on the couch. He leaned back and closed his eyes, and tried not to have too many thoughts for the moment; he didn’t open them again until he heard an anxious knocking at the front door.

“Come in,” he shouted, and Sasha opened the door just wide enough to poke her head in; once she saw Martin, she walked in and closed it behind her.

“Tim said I should—” She stopped as she focused on Martin’s face over the back of the couch. “Martin, are you all right?”

“No,” he answered.

“Look, I’ve—” she came around to the other side of the couch and set her bag on the coffee table as she sat down. “They’ve closed the entire Institute while they’re investigating the—I just have no idea what to do right now. Tim called, and he’s been sending messages since then, but to be honest I don’t understand any of them. I’m lost.”

“Yeah.” Martin nodded, then dropped his forehead into his hand. “I just told Tim about—everything.”

“I gathered that,” Sasha said. “He seems—upset.”

“Yeah, well, he should be.”

“That’s him outside with Jon?”

“Yeah.”

“Hang on.” Sasha walked to the back door that led to the balcony and opened it. “Tim, I’m—”

“Oh god. Sasha. Oh shit.” Clearly whatever they had been discussing had not calmed Tim down at all. “We are so fucked.”

“Tim, I can see you are upset, but—”

“No. Upset does not even begin to describe what I am right now. I am—I am leaving. I need to leave.” He walked toward the front door.

Sasha started to follow him. “Tim—”

“Let him go,” Jon said.

“Fuck off,” Tim said, then turned to Martin. “You too. Screw both of you. Sasha, just—call. Call later.”

He left, slamming the door behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Sasha said, sighing. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but—”

“No,” Jon said, “he’s right to be angry.”

“Do you—think you can tell me whatever you told him?” Sasha asked.

“I can tell you,” Jon said, and then looked to Martin. “Are you all right?”

“No,” he said again. “How are you feeling? You were pretty out of it.”

“I’m—I’m all right, actually.” Jon took a seat next to Martin on the couch, and picked up his hand. “You don’t have to stay here for this. If you—”

“Yes, I do.”

Jon nodded. Sasha went to sit on the chair Martin had brought over earlier, and Martin protested. “No, Sasha—I can sit there—you can—”

“No, stay there.” Sasha smiled weakly. “I’ll be fine here.”

It wasn’t quite like listening to a statement—Martin could have interrupted if he’d wanted to—but Jon’s voice held that same contradictory combination of emotion and detachment it always had when he’d been reading a statement. The end result was that he seemed to explain everything twice as well in half the time that Martin had, and Sasha had remained drawn in and silent until the end.

“Tim should have heard it from you,” Martin mumbled, while Sasha took a moment.

“No,” Jon said. “I think—I think Tim needed to hear it from you, actually.”

Martin started to ask him what he meant, but Sasha broke her silence.

“So—now what?”

“Wait,” Martin said. “Aren’t you mad?”

“I’m—” Sasha considered. She looked tired, maybe in shock, but not angry. “I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, this—sucks—but… I don’t know. What would I have done? I mean—” She laughed awkwardly. “I guess I would have died—”

Martin flinched.

“No—no, I’m sorry. I just meant—I really don’t know how to deal with this—there weren’t any right answers, were there?”

“If there were, I never chose them.” Jon absentmindedly reached for Martin’s hand again, and looked at him briefly when Martin held on to it harder than expected.

“I mean, I know why Tim’s angry,” Sasha continued. “But in the end, you—you really did save all those people.”

“I’m not sure I’d say—”

“But you did,” Sasha said. “Yes, they went through something awful, and I’m sure they were worse for it, but—their lives still had value. They still wanted to live, didn’t they?”

“Yes,” Martin said.

“And here—I know it’s already cost a lot—but we still have a chance. Don’t we?”

Neither of them answered her.

“Fine, but—I have to believe we do,” Sasha said. “I mean, Jon—even the—the Eye—it can’t see into other dimensions, right? And the Web probably—probably didn’t really anticipate all of this, right?”

“No,” Jon said. “It doesn’t work like that. At least not for the Eye.”

“So maybe—just maybe—things are different enough here that—I need to think.” Sasha pressed her knuckles to her mouth for a moment. “Jon, I imagine you still have some—influence over this situation?”

Martin looked at him, and Jon nodded. “Some. Yes.”

“How exactly do you plan on using it?”

“I don’t know,” Jon replied. “One way or another, I don’t—I need to make sure they don’t get out again.”

“Understood.” Sasha continued to press her hand to her mouth. “But we have time, right? Some, at least?”

Jon nodded again. “Yes. Of—of course.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand again.

“All right. Give me—give me a day or so just to—to really absorb all this. Then we’ll talk it out. Tim—oh, hang on.” She checked her phone, and scrolled down through a few messages that had gone unchecked while she’d been listening to Jon. “He says he’s going to visit Danny.”

“Good,” Jon said.

“Anyway, he’ll come around.” She thought a little bit more. “And I guess we should tell Melanie, and—and Elias.”

Jon stiffened. “Do you really think he—”

“After what he went through today, he—he deserves to know.”

Jon didn’t exactly relax. “Yes, fine. All right.”

“Will you two be all right if I go? Just—like I said, to gather my thoughts?”

For some reason they were both looking at Martin.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’ll be all right.”

“I’m glad you told us,” Sasha said, standing to grab her bag from the table. “I know that took a lot. And Tim—he really will come around.”

Jon walked with her over to the door and she said something quietly that Martin couldn't hear; then she left, and Martin crumbled into the couch.

***

“Come to bed.”

Martin, who had been doing his best to bury himself between the cushions and the back of the couch ever since Sasha left, turned over to face Jon. “I can sleep out here tonight, if you want.”

Jon knelt to be at eye level with him. “Why would I want that?”

“I don’t know.”

Jon sighed and crossed his legs to sit on the floor. “Martin—what did you think would happen when we told them?”

“I don’t—I mean, of course Tim is mad, but—Ok, I guess I really wasn’t actually thinking about how they would react at all. I just thought it would be better to have it out. That it would feel better.”

“Does it?”

“Obviously not.”

Jon nodded, and reached out to touch Martin’s face. His touch was comforting, which Martin had somehow not been expecting.

“I mean, Tim was bad—but at least it felt—”

“It felt right. That he was angry.”

“Maybe. It’s just that when I was telling it to him, and I was hearing myself say it—I’d really forgotten how bad it was. I mean, I hadn’t forgotten, but—I guess I’m not living it anymore. And that’s not fair. It’s not fair to the other Sasha and the other Tim and everyone else we left behind. I just guess I feel—”

“Guilty.”

“Hm.” Martin closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Jon’s hand. “And then Sasha—it’s like she just didn’t get it. I mean, no—I think she got it. She heard all of it and I think she believed it, but she should have been angry? At least—a little.”

“She still might be. They both have a lot to process.”

“Sure, but—she was so optimistic. She just doesn’t know. She never felt—”

“She just said what you’ve said.”

“I know. And when I heard her say it—it made me wonder if that’s how you think about me when I… I mean—we were both there, but you went through so much more than I did. I felt—I felt sorry for her.”

“Martin,” Jon said, “I have never once felt sorry for you. Worried, or—or sad, or—but no, never pity.”

Martin opened his eyes to look at Jon again.

“Are you mad that I told them?”

“No. I told you I understood. It was time.”

Martin sat up, and Jon moved to sit next to him.

“What are we going to do?” he asked.

“Go to bed,” Jon answered.

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Jon touched his leg. “We let Sasha think. She tells Melanie and Georgie and—Elias, and Tim makes up his mind about what he wants to do.”

“And then what?”

“We talk.”

“Jon—” Martin sighed. “I don’t want to push, but—how does this all end up different from before?”

Jon pulled his hand back. “I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t.”

They sat a little while longer, until Jon stood up and held a hand out for Martin. “Let’s go to bed.”

“All right.”

“Wait,” Jon said, after Martin got up. “Would you—would you eat something first? I didn’t want to interrupt you earlier. I thought you could use a moment.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You know, Martin—you are a bit of a hypocrite.”

“Yeah, I know.” He put his arm around Jon’s shoulders and kissed his head, and was briefly pulled back in his memories to the day he’d cut his hair for him. That was all he wanted; just that—or, well, a future where some days got to be like that one.

Why was that so much to ask for?

“But I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jon answered.

[whichstoodonrockyshores]

Chapter Three

(danny gets his reading interrupted, the chapter)

Danny finished the letter rather quickly. But he didn’t know how he was supposed to get out of the house to mail it off in secret. He sighed, and put it in his drawer for later. He sat down on his bed, grabbing his favorite book off of the shelf. A Tale of Two Cities, of all books. He had to have read it about a million times by now. He sighed, turning to the page he left off on, when Nancy barged into his room.

“Daniel, come down and get your dinner.” She said, as Danny reluctantly put his book down and sighed. He walked down the stairs, right behind Nancy. It took everything in his power not to step on her long dress and make her fall down the stairs. He didn’t, though. He wanted to prove he was becoming more mature. More grown up, like his sisters.

He sat down at the table, his family all suddenly looking over at him. Everyone was there, his niece and nephew’s , his brother-in-law, father, mother, and grandfather. But there was someone missing. Kendrick was missing, and his son of all people was sitting where he once did. The entire family was eerily silent. John Zachary, his brother-in-law, finally started talking. His father looked him straight in the eyes, shutting him up very quickly.

“Helen, can you please pass the-“ Nancy started, looking at her young daughter. But Opal looked at her, the look on her face telling her to be quiet. “margarine.”

Helen nodded, quickly handing her mother the margarine. Danny let out a sigh. When Kendrick was here, they were happy. They talked and laughed, but his death just..shook them all to their core. That’s the reason Danny went out West in the first place. To get away from these people. And he didn’t want to come back. But after the gang split up..where else was he supposed to go? The Wild West was coming to an end after all..

“Y’all Better not be like this at my weddin’.” Danny said, finally breaking the silence. Everyone looked over at him.

“Wait, Tim, you were bein’ serious when you said Danny was gettin’ married?” His mother asked. Everyone, except Opal and his father, looked utterly shocked. Including his grandfather, who never had an emotional response to anything.

“Yes sweetie, I was bein’ very serious. Danny, our oldest son, has finally agreed to get married. Take this as an official announcement.” He explained. Danny was quite embarrassed, and tired, but didn’t say anything. He just went back to eating, and soon finished. The family finally started talking. Mainly about what the wedding was going to be like, who he was marrying, etc. They were all directed at his father, of course, because they couldn’t just ask the man who was actually getting married, no.

The dinner ended soon after. Nancy and her family left, and Danny snuck back up to his room. He grabbed his letter, and managed to sneak out of the back door when no one was looking. The post office, luckily, was still open. He quickly mailed the letter, and snuck back home. He was lucky no one saw him. He went back to reading his book, but he found himself reading the same page over and over. He couldn’t stop thinking about this wedding. About everything. So he just sat there, put his book away, and sunk into his bed.

Who killed Kendrick Peachy? That was a good question, because no one on Earth knew, except the killer themselves. He always doubted it was his fiancée, Alexandra. No, never. He’d had an inkling it was one of his in-laws..John Roberts. He was a real snake of a man. Married to his cousin Catherine. Plus, he was a Roberts, Alexandra’s own cousin, in fact. They weren’t the nicest people, with the exception of Alexandra herself. They’d even had a son, who they named after his dead brother. How dare they..

He also found himself thinking about Uncle Hamish and Uncle Otis. They always were so happy. They’d already grown old together. And Danny wanted that. He wanted to grow old with Ron, specifically. He loved Ron very much. He couldn’t wait for his reply. He knew it probably wouldn’t come until after his wedding, but he was still prepared. He hoped Ron wouldn’t take the news of his marriage too badly..

He drifted off to sleep that night, and his dreams were the same. Nothing new. He woke up the next morning, with a yawn. No one had even woken him up, he did on his own. He pulled out his book, hoping he could make some actual progress on it, when his father walked inside again. That man had no idea how to knock.

“Hey son. I have a huge surprise for you, so you better hurry your butt downstairs.” He said, before closing the door again. Danny let out a huge sigh, closed his book, and changed into something new. He came downstairs, his father all smiles. It was a little odd for Danny.

“What is it, Pa?” He asked, his confusion very clear.

“Well son, you’re becomin’ a man! So I thought I’d gift you somethin’ nice, as a sort of weddin’ present. Follow me boy, we’re going somewhere.” He explained, as he opened the large front door. Danny followed, still very confused. Something nice? Maybe a new horse? Or better yet, maybe a new book? No, probably not..

Timothy stopped in front of a house Danny had never seen in town before. He presumed it was new. He was still confused.

“Here it is son, your very own house!” He said, very excited as he walked onto the porch. Danny was shocked, and nearly floored at the news. He smiled, and nodded.

“Thank you very much, Pa! Thank you!” He yelled, shaking his own fathers hand in thanks. “I’ll go back and grab my things, and then I’ll make myself comfortable.”

“That sounds good son. I can’t wait to see the family you’ll raise with that girl. Bye now!” He said, walking away, in the direction of the saloon. Danny let out a massive sigh. He walked back to his old house, his own room, and grabbed what little stuff he had. He packed it into a small suitcase, all of it easily fitting. He brought it back to his new house, and went inside for the first time. He placed the suitcase down. This place..looked exactly like his father’s house. But that made sense, he’d built the place after all. He unpacked his stuff, hung the clothes in his closet, put his few books away, and sat down on the couch. Wow. This was lonely.

He pulled out his book, finally able to read in peace. But just as he was getting into it, there was a loud knock on the door. He let out a low groan, got up, and answered it. It was Nancy, standing there with his nephew Vincent. Kendrick’s son.

“Hello Daniel, I thought I’d just pay you a visit. Nice new place!” She said, her big, fake smile staring back at him. He smiled back.

“Yes, it’s very nice. Just moved in today, actually.” He explained, and she nodded.

“Well, I thought that because you have a new place, and will have a new wife soon, I’d give you this runt of a boy!” She exclaimed. Vincent just stood there, and Danny finally noticed the suitcase he was holding. “John doesn’t like the boy there, he wants more space for our children. We think I’m pregnant again.”

“N-Nancy, are you sure-“ Danny stuttered out.

“Oh, really, you’re so kind Daniel! Bye now!” She said, leaving her young nephew on Danny’s doorstep. He was only 9 years old. Danny sighed, took his suitcase for him, and led him inside.

“Uncle Danny, what just happened?” Vincent asked.

“Oh nothin’, boy. You’re stayin’ here now, is all.” Danny explained. Vincent looked sad.

“Aunt Nancy said I would be goin’ back to mama’s when I was older, Uncle!”

“Well..she’s wrong. I’m sorry, Vincent.”

“Vinnie, Uncle. They call me Vinnie.”

“Well, Vinnie. You’re gonna be stayin’ here now. Nancy don’t want you no more, I’m sorry to say.” Danny explained, a pained expression on his face. He sighed, as the kid just sadly walked around his living room.

“Where will I sleep?” He asked.

Danny quickly led him to the empty downstairs bedroom, clearly meant for a child. And Vinnie definitely was a child.

“Here, okay? I’ll make dinner for us in a little. You can find me in the livin’ room if you need me for anythin’.” He explained, and Vinnie nodded, as he unpacked his own suitcase. Danny just went back to the living room, sat down on the couch, and put his head in his hands. What a god damn mess.