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[nutmegtales]

Alive Again - Part 9

It turns out Jason didn’t have to wait for an interrogation after all, as the night went on Danny found himself feeling drowsy but giddy from the day. He found himself chatting, and it had been such a long time since he’d had someone to actually talk to, to vent to. Sure, he had subjects and court ghosts that ran around his kingdom and would stand there while Danny talked at them, but none of them gave a Shit beyond pleasing their Great One. It was the title they cared about, not Danny himself.

And so, with Jason’s encouragement he had talked while the other boy listened and tried to keep his rage from boiling over. He talked about being king, about his kingdom and responsibilities, and the expectations that had been thrust upon him, about how he had won the position in combat against Pariah. About losing his family and friends, not the details but enough to just... let some of it out.

He talked about the GIW and the few stints he did in their labs when he was still a kid, at that point Jason had needed to go hit something before he could hear more. Strangely Danny felt a little vindicated at that. It had been a long time since anyone had been so rightfully outraged on his behalf.

And then he had talked about Phantom, about the days when he hadn’t understood himself, hadn’t understood the ghosts, about how he had fought for amity park. How he’d felt responsible because of his family, because of the portal.

He talked about the portal. And how he’d died.

He’d died. Danny had died. I mean yeah of course, Jason had assumed the Ghost king was dead but he hadn’t thought about how. Or when.

He’d been a kid, barely in his teens and he had died. Jason felt numb has he listened to Danny recount his death. As he listened to what it was like to feel an industrial level of electricity burn through him and fry him alive while ectoplasm flooded his dying cells reviving them just as fast as they burned out and died.

He felt nothing as he listened to how Danny had lost track of time as every piece of his body got ripped apart and put back together over and over and over again until the machine, the portal, had finally short circuited and shut off.

He looked at the ghost of Lichtenberg scars that ran up Danny’s limbs, felt them beneath his cautious fingers as he realised the strange writhing glow of Danny’s Ghost King form was actually a reflection of these scars.

Jason knew he should be feeling. Rage, sadness, disgust. Something. He should be distraught, or sorrowful, or outraged. He could sense the churning emotions somewhere just beyond his reach, his stomach tied in knots, and his throat thick with emotion he couldn’t feel.

He looked at Danny, assessed him with a trained eye, and saw that the exuberant chatty boy had dulled into a listless shade of himself, numbly recounting these atrocities. It wasn’t Jason’s emotions refusing to come to the surface he realised, but another affect of the Ghost Kings powers. Muting not just his own emotions in defence of what his voice was recounting, but Jason’s too.

Well. That’s enough of that. “Hey" Jason reached out to palm Danny’s cheek, running his thumb back and forth over the sharp bone there. His heart just about melted as Danny turned into the touch, his eyes closing with a deep shuddering breath drawn from his lungs.

Fucking hell. Jason suddenly did feel again, thankfully not the turbulent emotions he’d expected to drown him, but the desperate yearning he knew all too well. The need to feel the warmth of someone you trust wrapped up with you and holding tight. Jason wondered how long it had been since Danny had been held, since he’d had a body too be held.

“Thank you for telling me” He hesitated just a moment more trying to decide what the right next move was. Ah to hell with it, he never made the right moves anyway “may I?”.

Danny’s humm of ascent was so quiet Jason almost missed it. But it was there, like a thrumming in his chest, like a pulling at his arms, like a weight on his shoulders it was there.

Jason scooped Danny up easily, held him tight in his lap and rubbed circles into his back. Stroked his hair in the way he himself always found so soothing when… when B had…

They stayed there long after the night set in. Taking comfort in each others presence. And for the first time in a long, long time, Danny let himself be small and vulnerable, and let someone else in on the burden that it was to be him.

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Fucking Clowns - Ending

Jason, dick, and Tim settled into their new routine over the next few months. Setting aside old, and not so old, gripes and grudges for the sake of this kid that none of them really knew. They'd all expected it to go to hell one way or another, but they were nothing if not stubborn and doggedly dedicated. They had each decided for their own reasons that taking in this kid and making him safe was what they were going to do. And together they were making it work.

Tim had told everyone he would be out of town for work or for a mission and was enjoying the relative down time working remotely from his hill top house in the woods. He wasn't sure when his parents had acquired the property, he certainly had never holidayed here with them, but it had been easy enough to get the place set up for the four boys.

Dick had mentioned at the right time here and there that him and Jason were working to repair things and would be spending some time catching up at a holiday house. After some interrogation questioning he was pretty sure the cover story was solid enough that no one would bother them. B knew they'd be out in the woods and they'd be together, and that both of them would come and go from Gotham and bludhaven so it wouldn't seem from the outside like anything was other than what they said, and there'd be no reason for anyone to check on them at the holiday house they were sharing.

The other birds and bats and even Oracle had pitched in to make the cover story more solid. Some of them would check in on the boys occasionally and would give a sanitized report when B would inevitably asks. Making it less likely B would feel the need to check himself.

They'd known what to expect when they took Danny, Tim had been very thorough checking the kids status in the aftermath of The Joker incident and the lead up to their rescue. They knew he had been unresponsive during that time, and fully expected it to be a Long recovery even with the kids Meta powers keeping him stable. They'd set up a false room in one of the lounge areas, so Danny would have some privacy but not be isolated from the rest of them. Tim had combed through all the recordings and notes he could to try and figure out anything Danny might like and had decided setting up his bed near a big window with a good view would be best. He thought Danny might like the sky, or the stars. Either way if he came too he'd be able to see them.

They all got into the habit of keeping the boy company, trying to find the line between giving space and crowding. Tim made a second coffee each time, one for him, one for Danny. Dick would chat about his day and the latest gossip, as ever perfectly capable of keeping up an active conversation on his own. Jason would read aloud his favourite books while Tim and Dick pretended not to listen. Jason suspected they both liked having someone to read stories to them, but that neither would ask for it themselves, it'd probably been a long time since either of them had someone in their life that did that for them.

It gave the brothers the opportunity to see each other wound down in a calm and welcome environment, and though only Dick would admit it, it was actually really nice to be in each other's company.

Time passed comfortably and Tim made notes about Danny's recovery, how he'd never needed fluids or food, seemingly kept going by some other force, an affect of being meta they assumed. After a few weeks he started noticing Danny stirring for a few seconds and he tried to note down anything environmental that could be encouraging him to consciousness.

From what he could tell Danny was closest to awake when at least two of three things were present: a strong smell like a fresh coffee or something cooking, the stars visible through his window, or at least one of Dick or Jason talking near by.

With that information they were able to purposely create wakeful conditions more often and soon enough the kid had opened his eyes and eventually started to say a few words.

It was a relief to them all when Danny didn't panic upon coming too enough to understand his environment. It was a thought that had been weighing on all of them that maybe the kid wouldn't feel any safer with them than he had at Arkham. But as the weeks passed and Danny started staying awake and chatting with them that worry passed.

Danny didn't have the energy to do much at all, and he had to lay down and sleep after even just an hour of light activity. But he enjoyed the company of the three boys he found himself with, and was grateful to be out of Arkham, that there were no more fucking Clowns to worry about, and that there didn't seem to be any ghosts clamoring for his attention. He knew there were people and things he was forgetting, that his tired mind couldn't quite bring to the surface. But he felt that was fine, for now he was safe, and his new friends had promised to keep him that way. He was grateful, and tired, and safe. And for what seemed like the first time in his life he let that just be enough.

For now, he would just rest and enjoy the company of his friends.

--

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Fucking Clowns - part 6 coming to

Danny felt himself slowly waking, the smell of fresh coffee and something chocolatey baking near by hung in the air. He rolled the flavours round his mind for a while letting opinions about each one float to the surface of his mind. He liked coffee. He liked chocolate. These were good smells. Comforting smells. Not the smells of an unsafe lab or a sterile cell. As he thought, he recalled more smells he'd sensed most recently. Of warm linens fresh from a dryer, of old books, and garlic and onion and butter cooking on the stove, of baking, and fresh flowers, of grease and machine oil and leather.

It was nice. Danny took a deep lungful of air, savouring the comforting smells.

The next sense to come back to him was hearing and he listened to the rumbling rhythmic noise that was happening close by as it slowly coalesced into words. Someone was reading aloud, taking their time, their words slow and soothing. He couldn't figure out yet what the words meant, but they sounded comforting.

Danny realised he felt safe, and it was such an unfamiliar feeling he wasn't sure what to do with it. No ghosts screaming at him to kill kill kill, no shouts and jeers from others interned going through their own personal strangeness, no whirring of power tools in a lab filled with weapons designed especially to kill him, no parents plotting gleefully of how to hunt him down.

He felt safe, and he let himself enjoy that feeling for a long time before braving anything more.

Eventually Danny opened his eyes to see soft rays of sunlight streaming through a big glass window. Through it was hues of green and blue, too blurry for him to make out. A blink and the skies were painted in orange, great clouds lit up with the colour of the setting sun. There were different smells and sounds now, but he didn't want to think about them, he just wanted to think of the sky.

Another blink and Danny could see the stars brilliant and bright the way they were back home before he'd had to hide in the city. He loved those stars, he loved those skies. They made him want to reach out and touch the clouds, to leap up and soar through the window and feel the breeze in his hair. They made him want to live.

The smell of coffee was strong again and Danny breathed it in deep, tasting the scent of it on the air. He let his focus shift from the beautiful stars to search his surroundings for the familiar smell. On a table next to the bed he lay in was a still steaming mug, and beyond that in a chair across from him sat someone sipping at a mug of their own. Another glance showed another figure lounging on a couch near by and the sounds drifting through from another room made Danny think there might be someone else too.

He felt... How did he feel? Two, maybe three strangers were with him. Did he feel scared? He tried to muster up the energy to feel fear but couldn't manage it. No, he didn't feel afraid, he felt nothing. Mostly nothing. Maybe something.... Maybe curious "midnight... Coffee?" His voice was feeble and scratchy to his own ears and he wasn't sure if he'd been clear enough to be heard. His eyes drooped closed from the effort of grinding out those few simple words and he felt a wash of exhaustion come over him. He couldn't make out the response as sleep reclaimed him, but he thought it sounded playful like hearing your friends banter in a nearby room. He felt safe, and curious, and exhausted.

The welcome smell of coffee and the sight of the stars became a familiar routine. He'd stay awake just long enough to take in the beauty of the sky, to savour the smell of a fresh coffee (how was it always fresh?), and to see the three people that kept him company.

There was one that sat in the arm chair, always with a mug of his own coffee, and a laptop or file on his lap. Maybe he was why there was always a fresh mug when Danny came too.

There was one that would lounge on the couch and just talk, or who would drape themselves over the other two.

And there was one who sometimes just leant against the wall, sometimes he'd sit on the couch and read aloud, sometimes he'd be sat on the floor at the foot of Danny's bed saying things that sounded sweet and comforting. Danny remembers the times where that deep steady voice tells him he's safe now most of all.

Today he feels awake enough to hear the words of the others, and to try and talk again himself. "Hey" he hesitates, unsure of what else there is to say, the words refusing to rise to his mind.

"Hey Danny" comes the reply. It's the deep voice of the one that reads, the one that tells him he's safe. "It's good to hear from you".

Oh? It is? That's good. Danny is glad they want to hear from him, glad that he's not just a burden or a bother. "Good to be heard" he tries to put some good humour into the words, he's not sure he manages it.

"yeah, I'll bet" he hears the other say "we're listening Danny, we're listening now".

Oh, Danny thinks as he drifts back off to sleep again, that sounds nice.

--

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--- not story just me talking

I was actually going to put this in the replies like a normal and well adjusted person but actually it turns out I have more to say on this than would fit in a reply so!

Thank you @sexyt-a-r-d-i-s11 for giving me the opportunity to talk about Babs in this situation.

I think that in this story Babs is absolutely over worked and overwhelmed, and really does need to step away and regain her bearings. She sees and deals with hundreds of awful and distressing situations literally every day, and in order to keep herself going and effective she has had to distance herself from these cases. She is absolutely not giving this situation the time and thought it really needs to be properly understood and dealt with. But then she is having to make decisions and fail safes for so so many things all the time, it's become easy for her to see a potential threat and follow the course of action that would be safest without necessarily digging in to determine what's actually best.

In Danny's case specifically she actually hasn't seen any hard proof yet that he was telling the truth, what she has seen has actually only reinforced her narrative of the situation. There is a young Meta with a significant mental instability who has expressed resentment towards someone she personally respects and relies on, as well as a desire or intent to murder someone which he has essentially just followed through on.

She doesn't see Danny the Halfa hounded by vengeful ghosts. She sees Danny the Meta with possible paranoid delusions that just essentially committed a murder.

She calls Jason not only because she knows he needs the news about the Joker, but also because... She's not certain. She made a call on this situation and everything she's seen has reinforced to her that it was the right decision but... What if she was wrong? And so she calls Jason and she doesn't just tell him the Joker is all but dead, no she shows Jason the footage himself so that he can get fresh eyes on the situation. Their relationship is tenuous, but she does trust him to do what's right.

If this were a longer fic, I would probably have a part further in the story exploring how Babs is forced to reflect on her decisions and how they enabled the suffering of this Kid for Months. I'd likely have her struggle with the weight of that guilt as they get to know Danny, and make this a turning point for her where she takes steps to reduce her work load and exposure to horrible situations, have her actively work to regain her bearings and judgement and put in place mechanisms to prevent her becoming so numbed and blind to these things.

At this point I don't think I'll be taking the story that far though so 🤷 have this little character exploration I guess!

Fucking Clowns - Part 4 Favours

"look, I'm only telling you this as a personal favour" things hadn't been great between Jason and the rest of the bats. Even the ones that didn't belong to Bruce. The hesitation was clear in Babs voice over the line, but the fact she called at all meant something.

"I'm listening" Jason tried his best to make himself sound sincere, and thankful for the effort that was clearly being made. He heard Babs sigh on the other end of the line and the brief tap of fingers on a keyboard "watch that clip I just sent you"

Jason clicked open the video and watched the flickering screen as it showed a room, maybe a hospital room, with a single occupant seemingly sleeping. He watched as the door opened and The Fucking Joker entered the room. He felt his stomach drop and his heart rate spike. Oh fuck, was he about to see... To see another... Oh fuck. He swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as the joker made it fully into the room and the occupant finally seemed to notice.

He watched as the figure on the bed rose, saw it was just some kid, he looked so much like Tim. God please don't let this be Tim. Please, please, please. Don't let this be happening.

He watched as the kids face scrunched in absolute hatred, a snarl on his lips, and... Was that ice? Yeah, yeah he's pretty sure that's ice freezing the door closed behind the Joker.

He watched as the kid began to sob and scream and Wail. A visible torrent of Something rushing from the kids body and mouth and crashing into the joker, who looked frozen in abject terror. It wasn't just the kid on the screen now either, a rush of double images, barely there people, barrelled into and through the Joker.

Jason had never seen such fear in the jokers eyes before.

And then it was over, the kid lay back down on his bed and seemed to go back to sleep. But the joker appeared locked in that state of terror.

The film went on for a while longer just like that, the seconds ticking by until the video finally ended.

Now that. That was unexpected. That was... Fucking hilarious. Was that real? Did the joker just get.... Did some random fucking kid just... Fucking hell that's hilarious!

Jason cut off his laughter long enough to ask "Where's the kid now I gotta congratulate him" he could hear Babs hesitate on the other end and his mood dropped suddenly "Babs... ? Babs Where's the kid now" he tried not to growl at her.

"In Arkham Jason. He was a patient there. Commited for paranoid delusions and self harm. Claimed he... Claimed he'd died and was being haunted by vengeful ghosts trying to convince him to reap revenge on the joker."

"Get him out"

"Jason"

"Get him out Babs. Tell Bruce to move his fucking arse and get the kid out!!"

It seemed to Jason this kid had likely been telling the truth of his situation,and that he'd just not been believed. How long did he sit in that asylum being tormented while no one listened. While no one believed. He could have so easily been in a similar situation himself after he'd died.

"It's not that easy" he could hear the stress in Babs voice, the regret, guilt "I've been watching this kid for a while now, clocked him as a potential rogue in the making, and he's not exactly fond of Batman. Seemed to blame him for his situation. Jason he could be a real danger."

"Yeah?" Jason scoffed "Blames B does he?Well I often feel the same way"

"Don't do anything stupid Jason" is all Babs gets in before the phone call ends.

Jason takes a moment to consider before flicking through his other contacts. It's time to cash in some favours.

-----

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Fucking Clowns - Part 5 in n out

Dick was in, the moment he saw the call from Jason, he was in. Was this reckless? Sure, dangerous? Absolutely, illegal? Yeah, most things they did were. But honestly when Jason asked, when he practically begged, when he said please like that all raw and pleading. I mean really what was Dick gonna say, no? Fuck that, his baby bird needed him and he sure as shit was gonna show up.

Jason had thought Tim would be a hard sale what with the whole murder attempt and everything. He'd hesitated and worried to try and bring in anyone more than Dick, but big bird was right, they'd need all the help they could get on this. And so he'd reached out, all the bridges he couldn't repair for himself he would try to repair enough to pull this off. It had been hard to set aside all the grudges and frustration and hurt he felt towards the others, especially Tim, but after Jason had given all the facts the kid had actually taken the time to consider it. He'd done his own research, pulling up all the Arkham files, watching the footage, reading the reports, attempted to track the identity. He'd been thorough, and methodical, and then he'd surprised Jason by calling him back the next day and saying he was in.

As the plan unfolded the other bats and birds were gently brought in on the plan, excluding the Batman himself. For the most part the others were asked to play distraction to keep B and A from catching wind of what they were doing. They'd find out eventually, 'course they would, but they'd all mostly agreed Bruce did not need to be anywhere near this until the kid had been made safe, and determined to be safe for them.

Tim made his way into the systems at Arkham, following the clumsy digital steps of something he'd identified as an entity that goes by GIW. He made a note to follow up on what that might be and why they might have been clumsily trying to hack their way into Arkham. He used their presence to mask his own as he took control of the subsystem they'd need for this operation.

The lights cut out in Ward A, the generator kicking in a few seconds later but the left side wing stayed plunged in darkness as an electrical fault delayed it's return to full power.

Two figures made their way through the dark minimum security area uninterrupted. Their path plotted carefully to avoid the patients and employees on the way.

The lock takes barely a second, and there's only a moment of hesitation before the unresponsive body of the rooms resident is carefully scooped into strong arms and carried away.

It was hardly 5 minutes after the initial black out that Tim reset and checked all the Arkham systems ensuring no one else was misplaced, carefully erasing any trace he had ever been there. The only thing they left behind was a now empty bed in the cell of one Danny Smith.

---

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It had been a Long fucking day. Hood had spent the afternoon seeing to business in the alley, looking over everything that was planned for the coming weeks and making his presence known in the streets. There'd been a few things that needed his specific attention and a swift resolution, there usually was in this business. He'd taken his time and made sure his rules were clearly understood and adhered too.

Then of course instead of getting to go home for a hot meal and a good book, Oracle had checked him on coms, requesting his assistance with a mid level threat heading towards his territory. He wasn't obligated to help or anything, but it didn't hurt to rack up favours with the bats and the birds.

That had ended up being one fucking endless shit show. A wild goose chase that started at one end of the city and went round and round and round till they finally caught the rogue. Dick got to him first, which was a good thing for the asshole they'd been chasing cos Hood was ready to put his fucking fist through the bastards flighty fucky skull.

Whatever. It didn't matter anyway. But he'd been so amped up with no release of getting to turn his fists on something he'd headed to the gym for a couple rounds just to work out the tension.

After, he felt the water from the shower chilly as it dried on his skin, his hair still damp with it. His body ached from the exertion of the day in a way that was familiar and comfortable. All he needed now was to wind down and enjoy the rest of his night.

Jason watched the flames dance at the tip of his lighter, watched the end of his cigarette smoulder to life. He tipped his head back after the first good pull, savouring the feeling before letting his breath out in a loooong slow stream.

Fuck it'd been a long day, but now he had nothing to do but enjoy himself.

Posing and muscle practice with Jaybird 💖

[nutmegtales]

Alive again - Part 8

Jason finished serving up tow bowls of dinner, setting them out to cool as he gets the dishes done. The Safehouse he’d chosen to bring them too was decently sized, but not so much that dishes piling up wouldn’t start to bother quickly.

He steals a glance at the boy slumped on his couch - the boy who had asked to be called Danny, the boy who was a king of the infinite realms with powers like a god, the boy who could sooth his rage - and frowns. After Constantine and Danny had sorted out all the magic bullshit, Jason had watched as the King transformed, shedding his power like a coat, and becoming much more human. His hair had settled as if just remembering what gravity was, and a deep black color had bled through the white until there was nothing of the shimmering snowy color left. The glow that had clung to him dimmed, and the shining green eyes had faded to a piercing blue. He’d almost looked like he could have been part of the family.

It was kind of like looking at a totally different person, and for a moment Jason had panicked that the King might have lost his strange ability to soothe Jason's rage with the transformation. Thankfully that fear was quickly abated as the pits seemed to be muffled more and more as he spent time in Danny’s presence.

Most of the heroes gathered had seemed relieved, not only at the kings transformation into something with a less intense presence, but at a decent deal being struck, and at Red Hood being the sacrifice so to speak.

B hadn’t looked relieved of course, and the pits whispered to Jason all sorts of things about how the Bat would be jealous of Hoods new position of power, how he would be angry Hood had stolen His opportunity, how he would be glad to be rid of Jason if this all went south, how the old man wished it was him dying again instead of his other… instead of his real sons.

Maybe B didn’t look relieved because he… because Jason was… because…

His mind wouldn’t form the thought, muffled by the pits before it could be realised, his longing for his father drowned out by rage and indignation and pride.

Whatever.

Jason brought the bowls over to the small table and set out some cutlery. Danny was still sprawled on the couch where he had been since they arrived. Jason had taken off his mask sometime after they got here, figuring he was freaking soul bound to the guy, there probably wasn’t much point in trying to stay masked around him. So, it was his unmodulated voice that spoke up as he said “Hey, I don’t know if you like, eat food or whatever, but there’s a bowl for you if you’re hungry”.

Danny let out a long groaning MMmmmmmmmmmm in response and for a little while Jason thought that was all he was gonna get, but when he sat down to tuck into his own meal he watched Danny half tumble half slide off of the couch and onto the floor. He groaned again longer this time before pushing himself up enough to sit, resting his back against the couch, his head tilted up on the cushions staring at the ceiling “ugghhhhhhhh, physical bodies Fucking Suuuuuuck”.

Jason had to agree with that, bodies surely did fucking suck, but he assumed having a real physical body probably did mean it needed to be fed. “C’mon, you’ll probably feel better once you get some food in you, what’s the last thing you ate?”

Danny stared at the ceiling for a long moment, and Jason felt a complicated wash of emotions from the other boy, a sensation that both thrilled and terrified him. Damn he’d need to figure out what’s up with that soon and learn to control it otherwise that’s going to catch him at the wrong time at some point.

“a Nasty Burger about 50 years ago I think” It had been with Tucker, their last meal shared before he’d taken a turn for the worst.

“… a fucking What??” Jason wasn’t sure if he’d misunderstood, but the mental image a Nasty Burger conjured was decidedly unpleasant “get your arse over here, this will be Much better than whatever the fuck a Damn Nasty Burger is”. He’d had limited supplies in this safe house, but he was still confident it would be good enough.

As Danny stood though Jason watched concerned as the boy swayed on his feet and had to steady himself on the wall. Jason was by his side in a second “Hey, whoa, what’s wrong?” It came out harsh and accusing and Jason winced knowing how it would come across.

Danny just shook his head and took a few deep breaths “just not used to being human is all. Forgot I had to use my lungs in this form…. Food sounds good”. He gave a brief reassuring smile, the kind Jason had seen on Tim sometimes when he was trying to dismiss how many days he’d been awake. It was cute, it was worrying.

Jason had planned to interrogate Danny for every scrap of information he could, but… maybe that could all wait till the guy was able to stand on his own again. They settled down at the table, and Jason was relieved to see Danny actually had an appetite.

----

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Fucking Clowns - Part 4 Favours

"look, I'm only telling you this as a personal favour" things hadn't been great between Jason and the rest of the bats. Even the ones that didn't belong to Bruce. The hesitation was clear in Babs voice over the line, but the fact she called at all meant something.

"I'm listening" Jason tried his best to make himself sound sincere, and thankful for the effort that was clearly being made. He heard Babs sigh on the other end of the line and the brief tap of fingers on a keyboard "watch that clip I just sent you"

Jason clicked open the video and watched the flickering screen as it showed a room, maybe a hospital room, with a single occupant seemingly sleeping. He watched as the door opened and The Fucking Joker entered the room. He felt his stomach drop and his heart rate spike. Oh fuck, was he about to see... To see another... Oh fuck. He swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as the joker made it fully into the room and the occupant finally seemed to notice.

He watched as the figure on the bed rose, saw it was just some kid, he looked so much like Tim. God please don't let this be Tim. Please, please, please. Don't let this be happening.

He watched as the kids face scrunched in absolute hatred, a snarl on his lips, and... Was that ice? Yeah, yeah he's pretty sure that's ice freezing the door closed behind the Joker.

He watched as the kid began to sob and scream and Wail. A visible torrent of Something rushing from the kids body and mouth and crashing into the joker, who looked frozen in abject terror. It wasn't just the kid on the screen now either, a rush of double images, barely there people, barrelled into and through the Joker.

Jason had never seen such fear in the jokers eyes before.

And then it was over, the kid lay back down on his bed and seemed to go back to sleep. But the joker appeared locked in that state of terror.

The film went on for a while longer just like that, the seconds ticking by until the video finally ended.

Now that. That was unexpected. That was... Fucking hilarious. Was that real? Did the joker just get.... Did some random fucking kid just... Fucking hell that's hilarious!

Jason cut off his laughter long enough to ask "Where's the kid now I gotta congratulate him" he could hear Babs hesitate on the other end and his mood dropped suddenly "Babs... ? Babs Where's the kid now" he tried not to growl at her.

"In Arkham Jason. He was a patient there. Commited for paranoid delusions and self harm. Claimed he... Claimed he'd died and was being haunted by vengeful ghosts trying to convince him to reap revenge on the joker."

"Get him out"

"Jason"

"Get him out Babs. Tell Bruce to move his fucking arse and get the kid out!!"

It seemed to Jason this kid had likely been telling the truth of his situation,and that he'd just not been believed. How long did he sit in that asylum being tormented while no one listened. While no one believed. He could have so easily been in a similar situation himself after he'd died.

"It's not that easy" he could hear the stress in Babs voice, the regret, guilt "I've been watching this kid for a while now, clocked him as a potential rogue in the making, and he's not exactly fond of Batman. Seemed to blame him for his situation. Jason he could be a real danger."

"Yeah?" Jason scoffed "Blames B does he?Well I often feel the same way"

"Don't do anything stupid Jason" is all Babs gets in before the phone call ends.

Jason takes a moment to consider before flicking through his other contacts. It's time to cash in some favours.

-----

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Fucking Clowns - Part 3

The joker waltzed his way down the corridor of the maximum security area of Arkham. Another pair of bodies the punchline to this Joke of an asylum. These half rate places can only ever keep him in so long before he gets too bored and has to go find Batman for some fun. But first! He's heard he's got a real fan here in the locker. Some kid that's got his name stuck on his tongue. Joker knew there was someone fun round here when they started shifting round his schedule. No doubt to keep em seperate. Tut tut tut well they couldn't have that now could they. Ha HA now wheres the fun in that!

No before he goes out to batman for his main act he's gotta get a warm up in first. Ohhhh this was going to be Good!

Danny was laying in his bed, the bottle of water on the table nearly empty again. He was always so thirsty. It was all the crying he'd been doing according to the doctor, gotta keep his fluids up. Gotta... Gotta keep going. There were still so many stories left to hear. So many ghosts who hadn't been heard, waiting their turn, patient as the dead.

At least, Danny told himself, at least they'd stopped screaming. This way there was enough space to hear just one of the ghosts at a time... But, well, this way he could really hear the whole story.

There was no escaping the endless recount of senseless violence. No activity that could distract from the gory details of that sick bastards humour. What choice did he really have? He could leave, phase right out of here and starve to death on the streets listening to these horror stories. He could try not to listen and be admitted right back here when the screaming would inevitably start back up. He could stay and listen to the seemingly endless stories, kept alive by kind but ultimately clueless nurses.

Or

Or he could kill the Joker.

Danny is pretty sure at this point there really is no life ahead of him now. This is all there is. The endless horror of bloody murders until he puts them to rest, and then, and then maybe he can just.... Not anymore. Not think. Not hear. Not live. Just... Not.

The ghosts had gone unusually quiet. It was the only warning he had that anything was out of the ordinary before his door opened, and there grinning from the entryway to his room was the source of all this pain. The Joker.

Right there. He was right there, it would be so simple he could just reach out and... And...

Danny knew about his ghostly wail. Had used it a few times now and knew it was a skill he needed to be mindful of. It was a powerful and traumatic weapon to use. He knew what his wail felt like.

What built in his chest felt different, colder. Like knives of ice slicing through his body and tearing to get out. As the joker stepped fully into the room, sick grin plastered on his face and some twisted greeting ready on his lips, Danny released his mournful wail.

The ghosts that gathered round him joined in, crying, sobbing, cackling along as wave after wave of mourning flooded the joker. Every horror he had caused that Danny listened too, every disgusting terror the remaining ghosts had yet to retell, every hurt and grief the joker had caused he now experienced in excruciating detail.

It went on and on and on until there was nothing left in Danny to give. Until every last vengeful ghost had poured all their obsession into the wail. Finally it ended and Danny collapsed.

The joker stood paralysed, forced to experience and live through every horror he had inflicted. Trapped in his own twisted world of terror.

Danny lay on the floor of his room. Finally relieved of his charge, finally able to just... Rest. Blissfully he stared at the crisp white wall of the crisp white room bereft of ghosts, and heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing.

Finally Danny was at rest.

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Fucking Clowns - Part 2

Barbara replayed the grainy video recording of the initial assessment of one Danny Smith. The boy had been admitted for causing a scene and then reportedly being detached from reality, and a potential risk to himself.

As per their newer procedures the cops had brought him to the lower security section of the Arkham facility for observation. At least 24 hours to let the body cycle through whatever drug might have triggered a psychosis. Arkham was well equipped for this kind of cool off period now, and they weren't unaccustomed to being flooded with fear toxin patients or other mass victims.

After those 24 hours though with no sign of improvement or other casualties displaying similar symptoms he was brought through to the initial assessment.

To say it had not gone well was an understatement. Babs hit pause on the moment when the doctor had begun to explain the situation: where Danny was, that he would go through a number of tests for his health, that he might have to stay for a while, and they may trial some medication for him. The frozen image was grainy but she could still see the look of absolute terror on the kids face.

She fast forwards through the outburst, as the kid refuses to be a lab rat, as he shoves out of the chair and goes to storm off before stopping in mid path, like someone was blocking his way. As he turned around again and was seemingly stopped again. And again. And again. As he shouted at the air to leave him alone, to let him go. As he rounded on the psych screaming that he would not take anything, no pills, no needles, that no one could make him. That he wasn't a lab rat over and over and over.

She hit play again once she reached the point they'd calmed him down and walked him through his options. They were going over why the kid thought he was here "Because I died" he said it so matter of factly, she could believe him. He said it the same way Jason did, in the tone of a 'fuck you'. But that didn't mean it was true.

"Because the ghosts want me here" another point in favour of psychosis.

"Because Batman wouldn't kill the Fucking Joker". It had been a quiet admission, almost too quiet for the recording equipment to pick up. Babs rewound and replayed that moment another few times, checking over the notes but not able to find a reference to it. She watched further on in the recording as the psych asked what Danny had just said, but the boy refused to repeat it.

Babs knew though, she was pretty certain she was not mistaken in what she heard.

She clicked open some of the more recent notes the nurses made. And yeah, her heart sank a little as she read there were quite a few mentions of Batman's name screamed in accusations, and a few little notes about oddities here and there. Cold spots, times where the kid had caught something that someone his size shouldn't have been able to lift. Times where he had items there was no explanation for him having. She'd gone over the rest of the recordings but hadn't found anything concrete herself.

She opened up a file of her own titled Potential Future Rogues, and added the name Danny Smith to the list with a check against Grudge and a question mark against Meta. That's all she'd do for now, without anything more solid or a real name to go on there was no point bringing this to anyone else's attention yet.

She sighed to herself and rubbed her eyes. It had already been a long night, and she was only part way through her long list of preventative procedures she'd made for herself. This might end up being nothing, but she'd still rather have a leg up on the situation if it ever does become an issue. This and the million other potential problems.

'Ah Babs', she thought to herself 'you really like to make work for yourself don't you.'

---

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Fucking Clowns subscription post

A Danny Phantom x DC crossover Inspired by this prompt from @greenmango-kai

Read the first part here

This one will be short. Maybe 4 or 5 parts and I have no idea when I'll get round to writing them and will not be posting on a schedule.

No pairings planned at this point

Mainly focuses on the characters Danny Fenton and The Joker (not a pairing)

Warnings: centres around Danny being confined to the Arkham asylum tormented by the vengeful ghosts of the Jokers victims...

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Open up the menu (... On web, notes on mobile) of this post and hit the little bell icon. You will be notified whenever a new part of this story is posted, and can unsubscribe yourself whenever you like.

[nutmegtales]

Fucking Clowns

A Danny Phantom x DC crossover Inspired by this prompt from @greenmango-kai

Arkham

Fucking Arkham

Arkham Arkham Arkham

The insane asylum

For the insane

Of course

Of course he was in FUCKING Arkham. Because where else would he be right? Studying to be an astronaut? Hahaha fucking Nope. Maybe an engineer? Nu uh. Flying free as you like as Phantom? No fucking chance. Because he, Danny Fenton, was clinically insane.

Obviously. Obviously he was insane. Obviously because ghosts Don't exist. No. Nope. MmM. Especially not vengeful ghosts that kidnap half dead kids and try to make them kill their murderers. No, no that's crazy talk.

Hahahahahaha haaha ha shhhhhhutup shut up shut up shut up Shut Up Shut UP "SHUUUT UUUUUP" Danny screamed at the gaggle of restless ghosts that sobbed, and yelled, and laughed around him. It didn't help of course. But! Hahaha bonus though! He didn't need to worry about anyone calling the cops on the screaming crazy kid in the dorm, no, because he was already In the place the Dumb Fucking Cops put you AFTER being called on the screaming crazy kid.

Fucking Arkham.

With all the damned assholes trying to tell him he's crazy, trying to psychoanalyze him and find what horrible trauma of his past could have triggered this episode. Apparently "I died" didn't cut it here.

God Jazz would be so disappointed in him. But Jazz, well, Jazz didn't have to deal with ghosts harrassing her all the time. No, no Jazz was Nice, and Normal, and fully Alive. No, Jazz didn't have to run away from home! She gets to live with parents that actually Love her! ALL of her! They didn't even try to hunt down and exterminate her even a little!!

No, no she got to go to school and get good grades, and make lots of friends, and didn't have anyone screaming in her ear to Fucking kill the got damned psychopath Clown next door.

No. That was just Danny.

It wasn't all bad though, he'd been admitted under a threat to self risk, and if he could prove he was no longer a risk to himself he could leave. He could leave. He could leave. If he could Just get a little bit of sleep maybe he could get a hold of himself enough to leave this shithole.

Okay shithole might be an exaggeration. He'd been fortunate enough to land in The Actual Batman's pet project asylum. The place being well funded was a massive fucking understatement. The food was good, his room was private and secure, and the staff were all well trained and vetted Heavily. So when he'd (slightly manically) explained that he has a phobia of needles and being treated like a lab rat would absolutely make him spiral they had actually listened!

Insane. But like. In the unbelievable way. Like that shit is not how Real Actual insane asylums function. But apparently Batman having a vested interest really meant something.

Now if only the damn bat didn't have such a strong moral compass and had just killed the Damn clown...

Why'd it have to be clowns. Why the fuck is it always got danged creepy ass clowns. They're supposed to be funny! That's literally their entire purpose! Why then. Why. Does Danny have to keep dealing with these fucking creep shows!

They were creepy. But they weren't what Danny was afraid of. No. Nonononono. It can't be as simple as just that can it. No. Danny gets to be scared of becoming a murderer or really truly permanently losing his fucking mind. Both options were fucking terrifying actually. And he was stuck here until he figured out another option. Stuck here with all these traumatized ghosts that just won't "Shut UUUUUUUP. OKAY! Okay okayokayokayokayokay shut up and I'll listen okay? OKAY? SHUT UP. one at a time. One at a time and I'll listen. I'll hear you out okay? I'll listen. And then... And then I'll see what I can do"

Gloriously the wailing quelled to an almost bearable level as a small wavering shadow of a child stepped forward and took the first turn at recounting his passing at the hands of the man that slept on the other side of the facility.

The nurse on shift noted the usual outbursts of yelling and slammed fists that came from their newest resident had calmed over the past hour, and when checked found the child laying calmly, crying softly, and muttering to himself. They made a few more notes as the shift passed, hopeful this change was for the better and might mean some much needed rest for the boy.

--------

Decided I'm going to continue this one so feel free to subscribe to updates here

Part 2

[nutmegtales]

Alive Again - Part 7s Extra - Clockwork

Clockwork watched his king.

It had been a long time since his king was happy, and that was starting to affect the realms as a result.

When that creature Constantine had thrown himself at clockwork trying to get him to turn back time, it seemed like such a great opportunity, and he simply couldn't pass it up.

It had been easy to pass on the great ones summoning.

He just hoped this little vacation would do his king and the realms at large some good.

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Alive again - Part 7

"I will help"

Danny's words are met with... Not quite sighs of relief, but the release of breaths that were clearly being held.

"But" he's certain they all expected the but "I have conditions" his gaze lands once again on the small ornate box and lingers there a while "and I expect payment afterwards, regardless of how this all turns out".

Batman and Constantine share a suspicious glance. Red hood rolls his eyes, though no one can see it beneath his mask. They may haggle and barter for the best deal they can, but he was willing to bet B and the rest were just as desperate as him to make this deal, they'd just about agree to anything at this point.

It turns out the Ghost Kings demands weren't all that unreasonable. They'd read about the kinds of deals that got made in the past, live sacrifices, whole lineages erased from history, entire countries given up in servitude. Something must have changed before now because this king was making no such demands.

No not whole lineages, or entire countries. All he'd asked was for a single soul. A single soul to bind with his and anchor him here to this reality. He'd said it was so he could assume a form that was safe for the people of this reality, that without it his power could crush the whole world without him even meaning too.

Green Arrow had scoffed at that. If the king had that kind of power, why couldn't he just wave his hand and cure everything. The king's answer was pretty simple, he'd stared at green arrow till the hero shifted uncomfortably in his seat before gesturing at himself and saying "ghost king?" with such incredulity that arrow hadn't opened his mouth again after that.

Now they were debating who to offer. Constantine had offered himself up first, eager as ever for an Eldritch twink. The king had scrunched up his nose at that "no offense, but no thanks. Your soul smells like damp cigarettes... and I'm pretty sure it's not even yours to offer at this point". Constantine seemed to take it in stride, shrugging off the comment and proclaiming it was worth a shot.

B was next, of course he fucking was that self sacrificing idiot. And even worse the king seemed to be actually considering it. He'd looked B up and down and actually sniffed at the air "mmmmmmaaaaaybe, your will is clearly strong enough to take it, and you certainly reek of death enough to be compatible...".

No. Fuck no. He felt the pits whisper in his ears and burn in his skin. Jason would Not allow B to do this, to take this from him. This king, this being of death, he could feel him. He could feel himself around him, parts of himself beyond just anger. He had somehow calmed the pit rage, soothed it to a bubbling laughter. It was terrifying and overwhelming and exhilarating and he was not going to let B take this opportunity from him.

"Fuck No" his first slammed through the table he was sitting at, splintering it apart as he pushed himself to his feet "It's me. End of, so back the fuck off Old man".

Danny could feel the rage pouring off the one he'd learnt goes by Red Hood. Could feel it building as he considered the other before him, the offer from Batman. Batman himself was tempting. A man so shrouded in death he tasted like a liminal. Like someone who was practically a ghost already, all that was left was to actually die. He'd be fitting as an anchor, it's true. But he knew who he really wanted.

Danny turned his thoughts to that rage as it built, he could practically hear it whispering it's demands, could feel it writhing and rotten under the other mans skin. What the fuck is that? It wasn't the feeling of a core, he was certain of that now. It was too sharp and jagged and fractured for that. Maybe he was possessed, or had been a halfa with a core and shattered it somehow, or... His musings were cut off by the mans sudden outburst, the fury practically tangible now, he pushed out some of his power to soothe the jagged edges of it, and muffle the insidious whispers. He felt gratified as he saw the man, so taught with rage he seemed ready to snap, responded to his soothing and softened at the edges just slightly.

He grinned ear to ear like the cat that caught the canary "Sold".

The rest was simple, some supplies and Constantine's help to seal the metaphorical door he'd come through, and a contract ensuring that at the end of all this, no matter the outcome, that ornate box would be His.

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Alive Again - Extra 7 Batman

Batman was a creature of action, of planning, and pouring through evidence, of finding a path to follow and following it. Batman was vengeance, and shadow, and justice.

Batman was at a loss of what to do. Every path a dead end. Every lead an endless goose chase. Every action he took a futile attempt to make this not be happening.

Batman watched his sons die.

He'd done it before and it had just about killed him. When he lost Jason he'd lost a part of himself he never knew he had till it was gone, and now he was facing it again. Dick, Tim, even fierce Damian lay weak and unconscious in the manor. He left the ever vigilant Alfred to watch over them while he sunk himself deeper and deeper into the task of finding a solution.

He couldn't stand by and let this happen, he Would find a solution, he would find it even if it killed him.

He'd finally given in and gone to the other heroes but none of them had a solution either. Only Constantine had any semblance of a hope of a course of action, but they all knew that path could lead to disaster.

That path was all they had, all he had. It was the only hope he had left of getting his sons back. It was a risk he was just going to have to take.

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Alive Again - Extra 6 Dick

Tim dropped last week.

Damian has been asleep for some months now.

Dick tries his best to keep the smile on his face. Tries his best to keep patrolling as if everything is fine. He's gotta keep it together. He's gotta stay strong for his brothers, for his Dad, for gotham and bludhaven. Dick doesn't feel strong.

He feels a weakness seeping in his bones. An aching in his muscles he's only accustomed to feeling after too many all nighters and some intense training or fights. There's a haze in his mind that makes it hard to think. Hard to move. Hard to swallow down the anger and keep on smiling.

It scares the shit out of him.

After Jason... Left, his mind played tricks, showed him the little brother he'd lost, the brother that he was desperate to get back. The brother that he knew he would never have again. In that time he got used to anger burning in his gut, he learnt again how to smile and joke through it. But this anger. This anger didn't just burn in his gut it seemed to whisper in his ear, telling him horrible things about himself, about his brothers, about life.

It made him want to scream, it made him want to tear himself apart, it made him want to lay down forever.

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Alive Again - Extra 5 Superman

Superman is slowly becoming weaker and weaker. Watching the worlds children and his own son succumb to this... This plague. What else could it be but a plague?

He'd covered the story as Clark in the early days and then some updates after that, but once his son fell to it he couldn't keep the composure needed to report on the matter.

He had done everything he could think of trying to track down the cause. He had left the planet to see if it was something from space affecting the world. Had confronted countless villains even outside his declared area of influence. Nothing. He'd found nothing. He could do nothing. His son, along with the rest of the world's children, were dying and he was powerless to help.

Powerless. It was worse than swallowing kryptonite, at least then it would be him who was affected... But then, he was affected wasn't he.

To add on to his mounting terror he could feel his power draining away. Slowly but surely he was losing his strength, his imperviousness, his flight. All of it was fading, like the sun had set one day and just never risen again.

Louis tried to keep it together. She was always the strong one when it came to this sort of thing, but even she was cracking under the pressure.

He was powerless and he had nothing left to try. Nothing left to do but spend what time he had left with his family.

Clark Kent has taken a leave of absence from work. Superman hasn't been sighted in weeks. That little piece of hope the people look too, now missing from their lives. He spends most of his time laying close to his son trying not to notice all the hearts around him beating too soft, tries not to notice the one laying next to him, or the one in his own chest, as their beats too begin to slow and soften.

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