sand-minion

[sand-minion]

Little Living Bones Part 2

Part 1 WC: 816 CW: necromancy

As soon as he could stand, Danny scrambled back to the teleportation sigil he had scratched into the dirt when he first arrived in Madagascar. He was always sure to have an out, and he really needed one right then. The tiny skeleton was clutched against his chest. Danny could feel the thin rib bones moving as if the little creature was breathing.

Somehow he made it back through the winding streets to the hotel he was staying at. He locked the door, set the skeleton on the tiny desk that was shoved under the window, and backed up as far as he could in the shoebox of a room.

“Okay,” Danny whispered, his voice mostly lost in the hum of the window unit. His eyes were locked with the hallow skull of the little gecko. “So you’re alive now. Again. You’re alive again.”

The gecko tilted it’s head. Their head? They were alive now, they weren’t a thing anymore.

“You’re alive and I did that. Okay, right.” His hands were shaking. When did he start shaking so badly? “That’s… alright. Guess you’re my responsibility now? Good thing you don’t need to eat, I have enough trouble feeding myself.”

His laugh was stilted in heavy humidity of the air. Danny could feel the nerves bubbling up under the sound, threating to turn it hysterical if only he could get any air in his lungs. When had he stopped being able to breath?

Danny sat down hard on the ground, tucked between the edge of the bed and the wall. When Danny had managed to get his breathing back under control and uncurled, he found himself face to skull with the little gecko. Impossibly, the little one looked worried.

Exhausted, Danny rested his head on his knees. “I guess I’m not being fair to you. Here I brought you back to life and I’ve just been ignoring you. I’m sorry little one.”

The little lizard moved in such a way that their bones gave a little rattle. It was kind of a pleasant sound. Danny smiled, just a little, and reached out to run a finger over the skull.

“I don’t know if you’ll, um, last—” though the idea of lizard falling apart to death again made Danny’s breath hitch again “—but even if you’re only around for a little, I guess you should have a name.”

Carefully, he picked up the skeleton and set them on his shoulder. Danny stumbled as he pulled himself up off the ground. “And I guess I should have some water.”

He pulled his dinged metal waterbottle out the side pocket of his rucksack before rooting around in the front one for his notebook. Settling on the rickety chair at the tiny desk, Danny found a blank page to write on. He tapped his pencil against the paper a few times before he he started to just list any name that came to mind.

By the time he had managed to fill most of the page with names and was just scribbling idle lines in the bottom corner, Danny was feeling frustrated. None of the names felt right. He had tried names from all over his travels, but nothing was clicking.

“Well, what name do you like?” Danny asked the gecko, who had crawled down to sit on the desk during the process.

The little thing tilted their head.

“Names, which do you like?” Danny asked again, tapping the paper.

The gecko watched the finger for a moment before waddling over and flopping down on the overlapping curves Danny had doodled in the corner.

Danny gave a tired sigh. “Sure, why not.”

-

A few months later, Danny stepped out of an alley and onto the streets of Paris. He had to consult his half legible note a few times to get to the set meeting place. The hunched, trench coat shrouded form of Constantine was easy to pick out where he was slightly tucked back in a different alleyway.

“Hey, Constantine,” Danny called out as soon as he was close enough not to draw too much other attention. The crowd was sparse, but there were still people milling about even at the late hour.

Constantine turned to greet Danny and froze— going still in a way that for the man was downright creepy. It made Danny’s hackles go up.

“What?” What was that look for? He was clean and fed and had even splurged and gotten his coat dry cleaned before meeting up with Constantine. So what if he’d been alone for several months now.

He’s fine.

He has a pet now.

“Kid,” John said slowly.

Oh, John wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the lapels of Danny’s coat and who must be peaking out of it.

“What the hell is that, kid?”

“This is Squiggles, they/them. Constantine, Squiggles. Squiggles, Constantine. No biting, either of you.”

-----

AN: And things completes this little fic: the origins of Squiggles the Undead Gecko! And proof that Danny is a necromancer? Maybe, maybe not. This will probably by the second fic in the story, the first being done by Moku and and explaining how Danny met Constantine! You can find her first part of that in the masterpost.

Stay delightful, darlings!

Please remember that I'm no longer tagging people due to the shadow ban! If you go to the master post, you can subscribe there for update notifications!

[sand-minion]

A Pinch of Salt - snippet 2

Okay, so I have been reminded by @clockwayswrites that I could post some things instead of just hoarding them like the dragon in my icon. So here ya go. Maybe I'll even get around to updating Catnip in the coming days who knows. Previous

Fuck, Danny cursed internally as he struggled to keep up with the long-legged stride of Trenchcoat. Whatever had happened to that ghost to make it into something like that was not good, he needed to do something! But as long as Trenchcoat was here he couldn’t exactly do as he usually would: transform and punch it. The man had seemed very ready to do something to Danny and the unspeakable soul situation going on had Danny extremely leery of finding out what that something was.

At least getting eaten seemed unlikely from the man’s earlier horrified response.

So running.

They went down a hallway, up a staircase, down another hallway and into a would have been shop. They stopped for a moment in the square space catching their breath. Trenchcoat let go of him to go peek back around the corner. Finally Trenchcoat’s shoulders relaxed.

“We lost it for now.” Actually it was more like the ghost lost interest in them; as they’d gotten further and further away from the central plaza of the mall the ghost had stopped following them. Not that Danny was going to tell Trenchcoat that. He had no idea how he’d explain it in a way that didn’t make him extremely suspicious. His hair was dripping salty water making it hard to forget he’d already been assaulted twice - he did not wanna know what else the man stored up his sleeves.

Preferably, somehow he’d get Trenchcoat to leave.

The moment of inattention cost him as he was grabbed once again by Trenchcoat and towed through the would-maybe-someday be a store to a door in the back. This led to a store room and a door to the outside. It was unlocked it turned out and Danny realized this was probably how the man had gotten in.

“Alright, kiddo, time to leave.”

Trenchcoat opened the door and pushed at Danny’s back.

“No way!” Danny exclaimed digging his heels in.

“Yes way,” Trenchcoat mocked, “go home kid, I’m a professional.”



 There was no way Danny was leaving, not at this point. Ghosts were his area of expertise - or well, Danny couldn’t really claim to be an expert, but they were his responsibility at least! He had a unique skillset and no matter what Trenchcoat claimed, he did not look any sort of professional. He made his opinion of his claim known by giving the man his most dubious look.
 - 
John hated teenagers and this teenager in particular.

He didn’t know what it was about teenagers, but they were just merciless in their judgment in a way adults were probably usually too polite to be. In any case that little up and down there, with the slightly raised eyebrow made him feel like he’d worn a clown costume to an accounting job.

“Bloody Hell, will you just leave before I decide to feed you to the specter!”

The boy crossed his arms, standing his ground. “You can try.”

John dragged a hand down his face, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“What are you even doing here?” “I’m here for the ghost.” Plain, even, said with not a smidge of hesitation. “You’re here for the-“ John cut himself off, hands opening and closing, inwardly cursing children and their stupid dares. “And what pray tell where ya gonna do when you found the ghost?”“I figured I’d try talking to them.”“You what?!” John spluttered. He’d expected him to say he hadn’t expected to find a ghost, there went his theory of this being a dare.

“There is no talking to that!” He pointed vaguely in the direction they’d lost the spectral storm. “Of all the sodden-“

“Them.”

John’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “What?” “Them. They are a them, not an it or a that.”

John opened and closed his mouth. Was he really getting a lecture on pronouns?

“It is a spectral storm. Whatever poor spirit it used to be, is not there anymore. There’s no mind there, it’s pure emotion out of control. There’s no way back from that.”

The boy scowled at him, clearly disagreeing. It didn’t matter. 
John pointed at the door.

“Leave.” “No.” They stared at each other neither giving an inch.

Urgh, this had to be why Batman was so grumpy all the time. John could not do this. He threw up his hands and turned around. He worked around things, not through them and here he was engaging in the folly of arguing with a bloody teenager.

“Suit yourself.”

Gods, he needed a smoke. He’d hardly finished the thought before he was pulling the package of smokes out of its pocket with practiced ease. He was lighting the smoke by the time he noticed the unimpressed look he was getting. Satisfied, he took a deep drag and slowly breathed out the smoke. The kid grimaced and John smirked.

“Those are gonna kill you.” “As opposed to the rest of my lifestyle?” He returned with a nod in the direction of the Storm that probably couldn’t kill him, but the kid didn’t know that. Satisfied at the way the kid’s nose scrunched, he walked back the way they came from.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Kid asked falling in step with him, and John just knew he was being annoying on purpose with that tone of voice. He was not gonna bite. He was an adult. He kept his gaze straight ahead as the kid started guessing.

“Excorcist? Ghostbusters wannabe?”

There was a pause, then a flash of a sly smirk John only caught because he’d stopped to look down the hallway.

“Ectologist?” The suggestion hit John like a metaphysical sledgehammer and he recoiled in disgust.

“Fuck. No.” He shuddered an extra time as if that would remove the oily feeling. “I’m an occult detective. You happy now? Shit kid, you don’t pull your punches do you?”

-

“So what’s the plan, Trenchcoat?”

“Trenchcoat,” John mouthed to himself before shaking his head. “The plan is you keep out of the way and I deal with the raging ghostie.”

“Yeah, no, you’re gonna do better than that. This is not my first time dealing with a ghost. But I don’t know what occult detectives do.”

John pondered the statement about this not being the first time he’d dealt with a ghost, and maybe there was something to the death magics he gave off after all. He groaned internally, why was he doing this?

“Standard practice, kid. Contain and banish.” He held up first one finger then two.

Danny rolled his eyes. It didn’t sound too different from his approach to ghosts, he caught them and sent them back to the ghost zone, but Mr Occult Detective didn’t exactly carry around a Fenton thermos.

“And how do you contain? No,” he offset the clearly sarcastic response. “I mean what are your requirements?”

Trenchcoat rolled his eyes, but humored him.

“I need a large enough open space and a small moment of preparation, then just gotta lure it in and do a binding spell.”

Danny narrowed his eyes and looked towards where he felt the raging storm of ghost energy. “Like the plaza.”

“Ideally yes.”

“So you need a distraction.” Danny started walking. A hand fell on his shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going? If you’re so insistent to stay, you’re not leaving my sight.”

Danny shrugged off the hand and turned around.

“The plaza is the center of the their power. You need someone to lure them away.” Danny watched the emotions flash across the man’s face with a small bit of amusement. He really didn’t want Danny involved if he could help it. Finally the man’s face settled on exasperation.

“I will figure something out.”

Danny smiled, taking a step backwards.

“No, you will give me a ten minutes headstart to lure our ghost friend far enough away they won’t immediately notice your stench so close to the heart of their haunt.”

As if sensing his intentions Trenchcoat made another grab for him which he dodged. And then he ran. He was sure it was only the threat of the ghost that prevented the man from yelling after him.

He just hoped he’d listened, because Danny was about to go piss off an already raging spirit. Trenchcoat better be ready.

Fun times.

[sand-minion]

A Pinch of Salt snippet 1

Chronologically first story in the Salt in the Bones AU @clockwayswrites and I are working on together (go check out the snippet Clock posted) - so much brainstorming, it's so much fun. This story is how Danny and Constantine meets.

“What the hell man, do I look like some kind of restless spirit to you?”

When Danny decided to investigate some ghostly rumors at the abandoned construction site of a nearly completed mall about an hour from Amity, he did not expect to turn a corner and get a face full of salt tossed at him. His assailant, a tired looking, blond, middle aged man in a sandy trenchcoat that had seen better days, just continued staring with narrowed eyes and the hand that had done the throwing still slightly raised.

“Okay, so I haven’t slept in three days, but dude, really?” He brushed his sleeve across his mouth to remove the salt but only succeeded in getting more in his mouth, he stuck out his tongue in disgust.

Still no give from the sad trenchcoat man.

“What are you?” the man finally spoke.

Danny stared open-mouthed, rude much! So that’s what trenchcoat wanted to go with! Fine! Two can play that game.

“Covered in freaking salt that’s what!” Danny shook his head so it rained salt speckles around him.

“It’s everywhere,” he groused spitting at the floor trying to get the taste out. “Seriously, save that for the shades and the fries.”

Having expelled most of the salt, he noted something else. He moved his tongue around for a moment pondering, then froze.

“Is that… Rosemary?!”

He had a sudden sinking feeling in his gut, took a moment to sense past the surface of noir-reject and was assaulted by sheer wrong-torn-wrong. He took a step back in horror.

“What are YOU? Why are you seasoning me? Do you eat people?!” Danny had thought he’d be dealing with a poltergeist, not whatever weirdness this man was.

For the first time he got a reaction.

“I don’t bloody eat people!” Constantine blurted in consternation, taking a step toward the creature posing (annoyingly realistically) as a teenager, who promptly took another step back.“Could have fooled me,” the creature countered, “what with that thing you have going.” He gestured vaguely up and down at Constantine’s entire person in disgust.

It really shouldn’t matter what some not-poltergeist thought of him, but something about him just rubbed Constantine wrong and he bristled.

The next moment the creature spluttered and coughed from the holy water he’d just thrown at him, but huh, no burning.

“Not a demon either,” John remarked, allowing himself a smirk as the creature looked at him open mouthed, eye twitching.

“Where the hell are you keeping this shit, did you just pull it out of your a- wait, demon?” He blinked and stopped his tirade.

“Demon?” he repeated, “demon’s exist?”

And suddenly it was Constantine reevaluating, because that sounded genuine, and the kid, because oh God it was just a bloody kid, might reek of death magics, but now that he was paying attention the malice wasn’t coming from him. It was coming-

A wail, angry, hateful, sorrowful tore apart the silence. It was cold to the very marrow of his bones freezing him in place.Down the hallway energy crackled in a growing storm of malice throwing around dust and debris from the construction. Cardboard, and forgotten tools was sucked into it and it was slowly moving towards them. Shit.

“That’s not a poltergeist either,” the kid remarked quietly at his side. And for a moment he’d forgotten he had a bloody civilian on hand. He cursed, grabbed the kid and booked it in the opposite direction from the sodding spectral storm.

[sand-minion]

Both Ways at Once Part 5

WC: 1766, Masterpost CW: discussions of death, vague mentions of child trafficking and rape

Danny leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He breathed in slowly through his nose, counting. He couldn’t let loose. They didn’t know. John said they didn’t know and Danny trusted John. Not with everything, he knew too much to trust John with everything, but he trusted John with this. The other wouldn’t have done this if he had known.

The gloved hand on his shoulder shifted, sliding to wrap around the back of Danny’s neck and give a little squeeze. It should have felt suffocating. It was grounding. Danny could already feel himself settling and responding to resonate back with Red Hood.

That was dangerous to have that resonance.

“Pomp,” John said. His shoes squeaked as he leaned forward. “Talk to me, Pomp, what did I miss?”

That right there was one of the reasons Danny trusted John, he would step up when he fucked up.

Danny sighed and opened his eyes. “He’s— he was a halfa, John.”

John paled. The color drained out of his face and left him a splotchy grey. His voice was strangled as he insisted, “Halfas are just a myth.”

“Rare, very rare, but not a myth. Think about it John. You said that the Red Hood from before was alive, but you know I’m right, the one here is a protector spirit. He died, John.”

“Red Hood is still alive, he has a heart beat,” Superman insisted.

“I’m still not talking to you,” Danny hissed, not taking his eyes off John. “Constantine. He was a halfa. I don’t know what they are anymore. This one is more ghost than human. I assume that the other one is more human than ghost. But put them back together and they would be perfectly balanced and you’ve been keeping them apart.”

John slumped back, rubbing at his face. “Bloody fucking hell…”

“The other half has been unwell, hasn’t he? Maybe just fatigued, but I bet he’s in pain too. His focus keeps wandering maybe. He’s listless.” Danny finally glanced away from John and over to the trio. Batman was, as always, almost impossible to read, but Danny felt sure Batman was tense. He might even be worried.

He wasn’t even looking at Danny but instead at Red Hood, who Danny was sure was avoiding Batman’s gaze. Even still, Red Hood’s fingers were trembling against the back Danny’s neck.

Danny reached up and took the gloved hand, hooking their fingers together.

“Constantine,” Batman growled, but the word sounded broken, under the bite.

John glanced from Batman to Danny and back again. “If Nightingale says that Red Hood is, was, a halfa, then he was. Nightingale’s the psychopomp, the dead is his realm more than any living I’ve ever met and, hell, more than most people who are dead.”

“And what is a halfa?” Wonder Woman asked, still the calm voice of reason.

“Rare,” Danny bit back, showing his teeth. He made himself take a breath and regulate his tone. “Someone who is half living, half ghost. They are a balance between life and death. If no one knew that Red Hood was part ghost, there’s a chance he wasn’t fully formed before, but I can assure you he’s a protector spirit now, no matter if he’s still alive. It’s also likely why the spell did this. There were already two halves to split. The human who was the living and the ghost who was the death.”

Wonder leaned forward in her seat. “You seem certain that the other half is sick.”

“They have to be— it’s a part of themselves that was ripped out and that leaves a wound. I suspect that because the other one must have more of the human side, he’s suffering more of the human affects of the separation while Red Hood is suffering more of the ghostly affects.”

“And your recommendation?” Wonder Woman asked.

“They need to be together. They need to be together and the place where they’re together needs to be Red Hood’s haunt.”

“His haunt?”

“Likely where he resided before. Or it would be where he patrolled if those are different areas. It would be somewhere emotionally important to him no mater what. As I’ve said, he’s a protector spirit so it should be obvious where his haunt is considering his role as a vigilante.”

“Crime Alley,” Red Hood rasped from behind Danny. his fingers squeezed tighter around Danny’s for a moment.

Danny’s arm was getting sore holding itself up like that, but he wasn’t going to take the comfort away from Red Hood or even deprive himself of that grounding point. It would be too easy for him to lose his temper here and really give the Justice League something to be afraid of.

“Crime Alley then,” he said. He had no reason to doubt what Red Hood was said. A ghost knew their own haunt. “We have to get him back to Crime Alley and they need to be together. I assume you have a place there?”

“No,” Batman said, though he didn’t shift. Wonder Woman placed her hand on his arm again.

“We’re concerned about there being a reaction of some sort should they meet,” she explained. “Constantine said that it might be possible.”

Constantine grumbled under his breath and ducked his head with a little shrug.

“If we didn’t know what was going on, sure, that’s a fair enough worry, but we do and I’m telling you that they need to be together until either they’re back together as one or until they fully settle into two separate people.”

“No.” It was Superman who protested this time.

“You don’t have a choice if you don’t want to torture and kill one or both of them,” Danny said, resisting the urge to bare his fangs at the boy scout again. “They need to go to Crime Alley.”

“He’s dangerous. If he is just the Red Hood half of the personality, which you’ve basically confirmed—“

“I have not. I’ve explained how they were physically split. It has affected how their split in motivation only because motivation is what a ghost is, but I would have to speak with both of them to learn how they are mentally and emotionally split.”

Superman just frowned in a disappointed uncle sort of way, as Danny talked and then continued on like Danny hadn’t even said anything. “Then he’s even more dangerous. We cannot simply let someone like Red Hood go. We have to think about everyone’s safety in this matter, especially civilians.”

“I thought you weren’t killers?” Danny threw back at them, saccharine sweet in his delivery.

It made Superman’s frown deepen, though Wonder Woman actually looked a bit amused.

“We aren’t,” the Big Blue said.

“If you try and keep him here you are. I’m telling you right here and right now that if you do not let him go back to Crime Alley then you are signing his death warrant. You might try to claim that he died in jail, but you’ll still be the cause of it. But that’s how you kill, isn’t it?”

“Nightingale,” John warned under his breath, twitching like he wanted to reach out and touch Danny, maybe to hold him back.

“No, really, it is, isn’t it? You want to to pretend that you don’t kill, that you’re better than whatever Red Hood has done, but are you really? At least he’s Honest about it. Red,” Danny said, tugging at the other’s hand so that he had to move up to stand more beside him. Danny looked up at the mask, looked through it. “You’ve killed.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they wouldn’t stop. They never stopped. Now that they’re dead, they’ve stopped.”

“Who?”

“Poisoning drug dealers. Rapists. Abusers. Child traffickers. People who threatened my….” Red Hood reared back slightly as if surprised by what his cut off words were going to be.

“Your haunt. Your people. Those under your watch and protection,” Danny said. “See, he’s honest about it. Were all of those deaths in the right? I don’t know. But I’m not sad a rapist is dead. I’m not sad children didn’t get trafficked. Those are the sort of people we’re supposed to be against, isn’t it? Well, us small heroes. You fight bigger names these days, don’t you, Superman?”

“Alright then,” John said, standing suddenly. Red Hood twisted to put himself further between the occult detective and Danny.

Danny patted Red Hood’s arm gently. “It’s okay, John’s trying to protect me. He thinks I’m putting my foot in my mouth and making enemies. And maybe I am. But I’m not going to sit by and watch this hypocrisy. You don’t kill. That’s a damn lie.”

“We don’t.”

“You’ve checked up on ever criminal then?”

“What?” Superman asked, thrown by the sudden question.

“Every criminal you’ve fought, every mugger and back robber and goon, you’ve followed up to see how they’re doing the next day, month, year?”

Superman had that lemon sucking twist to his face again. “No?”

“So you don’t really know, do you, how many criminals walked away from you only to die of brain hemorrhaging later because you punched them into a wall. Or how many died from a complication to their lungs or spine or heart because Black Canary ruptured something with her wail or Flash fucked from contact with the Speedforce. It’s not that you haven’t killed, it’s just that you don’t know how many you’ve killed. It’s impossible to act on the scale that you do and not have killed,” Danny said with certainty.

“Nightingale, I believe you’ve made your point,” Wonder Woman said, still calm, still patient. She was different from the others. She has killed, Danny knew that; she was an Amazon. He remembered his stories from Pandora.

“Have I?” Danny asked. He let go of Red Hood as he stood to lean over onto the table. Danny could feel that snarl building up in his throat again now. The other reached out to touch him again right away. The snarl calmed a little, only a little. “Because what about when Superman has used a building as a barrier to smack an enemy into? No one was ever hurt there? No grannie ever slipped and fell as the building shook and never got up again? At least that would be an accident then, unlike punching someone to death, but don’t pretend your hands aren’t red. Don’t pretend—”

The hiss of the door opening cut Danny off.

The room feel silent.

Danny could see all the heroes tense.

From behind him a voice spoke up, “Well, aren’t you all dramatic.”

--- AN: The mysterious stranger is right! They are all dramatic. Danny was about ready to go for Superman's throat-- literally and just not figuratively. Hope you enjoyed how this all played out! I know people were waiting for Danny to let loose some. Fatigue is hitting me hard right now, so glad to have gotten this out!

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag, you can instead subscribe to the masterpost!

[sand-minion]

Both Ways at Once Part 4

WC: 668, Masterpost

Jason inched forward and pressed his ear to the door Tim had just gone through.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.

There was silence, then “Where’s Jason?”

That was Dick. He’d been staying at the manor since it all happened. It was a little weird to have him a round like that.

“Asleep. He’s still getting exhausted too easily.”

Dick would buy it, of course he would. For one, it was true; Jason was exhausted. For another, Jason had been good. He rested when he was told. He ate when he was fed. He spent most of his time awake in the library just reading. He was passive.

He may have set them up, but it was their own damn fault if they bought it.

Dick let out a sigh. “Yeah, I know, I’m worried about that. So’s Bruce. They had Constantine bring in another specialist…”

“No good?”

“Don’t know. He sorta…” Dick laughed but it was strung out sounding. “He phased into the cell and then refused to let go of Hood. Or Hood refused to let go of him, we’re not sure. They’re in a meeting room now. According to him, they were basically torturing Hood by keeping him locked up in the Watchtower—”

Jason didn’t hear anything else. Blood was rushing in his ears. They were hurting him.

When he had come to in that basement, Jason had been confused. He hadn’t known how he had gotten there or what was happening. But also he had. Part of him had known, instinctively, that the huge man next to him was important and that they needed to stay close together.

His head had felt like it was splitting in two as what he knew and what was overlapped. His skin had felt too tight, like he had been stuffed into it. Everything had hurt. And so when his family had arrived and whisked him one way and the other man another, Jason had let them.

He had regretted it ever since.

Bruce and Constantine had sat him down the next morning, explaining that he had been hit with a magical spell that affected him mentally and physically. He had been split into two. He wanted to see the other part of him, but they said no. They had to find out more about the situation first, he was told. There could be a magical backlash. It was dangerous. They were keeping him in the dark, that’s what.

Fuck that. Jason had started using his exhaustion and pain as a cover as he worked to find out information. He learned: - The man was called Red Hood (no, not that Red Hood). - Apparently he used to look a lot closer to how Red Hood did. - The memories he knew of the last few years never happened. - They were keeping Red Hood in the Watchtower. - He needed to see him.

Jason was still putting together a plan, and now this consultant had solved one of the biggest problems about how to make it happen, Red Hood was out of his cell. Half baked plan or not, there was no time like the present.

Careful to keep his steps soundless, which was easy enough in the thick socks he wore to desperately try and stay way, Jason crept away from the door and took off to the Bruce’s study. He was grateful that while things about the present overlapped weirdly with his memories, like half dreams and stories, anything before he had… anything before Ethiopia still made sense. Anything after was a crap shoot if it was real.

The hands on the clock turned easily, his thumb print still scanned, and the door still opened. The way to barricade the door from the inside was the same too. It wouldn’t hold any of the Bats for long, but it was enough for Jason to scramble down the steps and over the the Zeta tube.

He just needed Red Hood to hold on.

He would be there soon.

He needed to see him.

-----

AN: So maybe I'm spoiling you all with another update today, but it is dark and stormy and I'm burrowed into a blanket with cats and a headache, and people have been asking about smol!Jason so I felt you all should get to meet him!

Stay delightful and dry, darlings!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!

[sand-minion]

Both Ways at Once Part 3

wc: 1565, Masterpost

Danny wanted to pace. He wanted to work out the energy and anger burning under his skin by moving. But he couldn’t— he wouldn’t. Red Hood still had a grip on his sleeve and Danny wouldn’t take that grounding point from the other, not when it seemed to help the man so much. Not when Danny knew how bad the separation from one’s haunt hurt.

The touch was also grounding him, Danny could admit that much. He knew that his powers were getting away from him. He knew they were seeping in that way that they did these days, bleeding out and warping pieces of the reality around him. It was more than he wanted to show the Justice League, but he couldn’t keep it all inside. He was spiraling.

Danny took a deep breath and tried to focus.

“It’s alright, Red Hood. You don’t need to stand guard in front of me. They won’t hurt me,” Danny said. At least he hoped they wouldn’t try.

“You are a threat to them.”

Danny shook his head. He could be, of course, but he wouldn’t be. “I’m not.”

Red Hood turned his head, just slightly. Even without seeing the other’s eyes, Danny felt he was being watched. “You didn’t do things their way. That means you’re a threat. They eliminate threats.”

Danny bristled. Not at being called a threat, but because of the picture that painted about Red Hood’s captivity.

“Perhaps we should all have a seat,” Wonder Woman suggested as she took a seat sat the table herself.

Everyone else hesitated a moment, but Danny nudged Red Hood towards a seat and took one across the table from the heroes himself. He held back a sigh as Red Hood chose to stand behind him instead, one gloved hand rested on Danny’s shoulder. It was an improvement, at least.

Batman took the seat to the right of Wonder Woman, and Superman the right of him. They clearly framed the man. John very clearly put himself in the middle of the two groups— both literally and figuratively. Uneven odds, but Danny had faced worse.

“I need the whole story, Constantine,” Danny said, not waiting for one of the others to take charge. His hands were gripped white knuckled together where they rested on the table. He couldn’t keep the thread of anger out of his tone, but he reigned it in as best as possible. “Because from my point of view, I walked in on you all torturing Red Hood in a way that could very well kill him.”

“We don’t kill,” Superman said, puffing up with his pointed words.

Danny stared at him for a long moment before he glanced up at Red Hood. “Is that the way of theirs you went against? The one that made you a threat?”

The hand on his shoulder tightened subtly.

“He’s a murderer,” Superman said, leaning forward as if imparting something important. “He beheaded people to make a point.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, crinkling his brows up purposefully in confusion. “Did I ask you anything?”

While Superman looked like he’d sucked on a lemon, Danny turned to Constantine. He knew the shadows were growing around him, lengthening, and he let them this time. “I need the whole story. Now, John.”

John glanced from Danny to the others, cigarette turning restlessly in his fingers. Whatever he saw in the big three, it was enough and he slumped heavily back into is seat. The sigh he heaved was full bodied and he just looked weary suddenly. “Justice League asked me to check something out in Gotham. Which is…”

Danny nodded and motioned for him to go on. Gotham was a cursed city of pretty notorious reputation in the magical community. In general, people of any real power stayed away unless they were up to something very dark. The only ways to operate in Gotham as a proper magic user was to be supported by Gotham’s curses or be supported by Gotham herself, and her favor was rare to earn.

“So I recruited the vigilante known as Red Hood. Not… exactly the one behind you,” John said, motioning with his cigarette. “And by recruited I mean badgered him until I promised to play errand boy for a few things.”

“…and yet you claim you didn’t know he’s a protector spirit?” Danny asked sharply, the words almost hissing with his rage.

“Pomp,” John leaned forward, spreading his hands over the table top. The cigarette barely stayed between his fingers. “I swear to you, in full weight, that I didn’t. Other Red Hood was alive. He reeked of death, but all the Bats do. You do. I went to him since he uses magic, abet dubiously, and is…” John shot a glance at Batman before grimacing. He continued anyways. “He’s a sodding Son of Gotham, alright? His presence at my side let me work in the city.”

Danny sucked in a breath through his teeth. Well fuck.

“How angry is Gotham?”

John shrugged. “That’s… complicated, Pomp. Let me finish the damn story?”

Double fuck. Danny leaned back in his chair and tried to unclench his hands.

“So we go and find the problem,” John continued. “Which of course…”

“Cult.”

“Cult. What else in Gotham, right mate? We fight, Red Hood comes in handy, but then the head fucker shows some serious skills— or paid for some serious skills at least. They go on this rant about undoing what made one what they are today, motioning with this staff. I can only think that it was meant to get rid of how I got my powers, but Red Hood shoves me out of the way and takes the blast to the chest instead. There’s a cloud of magic because the whole cult is showy bastards and when it clears, there’s this Red Hood standing there and also his civilian ID, or at least a version of him. Looks a might bit smaller, mind you.”

“Okay, sure, right,” Danny said. He could feel the headache coming on. “So we’ve got the vigilante and then… who he would have been if he’d never been a vigilante?”

Danny swore Batman shifted at that.

Batman never shifted.

Danny was about to call him out when Wonder Woman cleared her throat and leaned forward. She rested a deceptively delicate hand on Batman’s arm. “No, before he was Red Hood, he was a Robin.”

“What it changed,” Red Hood explained, voice rough even for the modulation, “Is if we died. I still did. I feel it. I’m the Robin that died.”

Even Batman didn’t manage to hide his flinch at that.

Triple fuck.

-----

AN: Surprisingly, Danny hasn't gone off yet! And we're starting to get more answers! Kinda? Somewhat. Now I wonder what that other version is doing...

Stay delightful, darlings!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the Masterpost instead to be notified!

[sand-minion]

Both Ways at Once Part 2

wc: 757, Masterpost

The stranger touched his chest and Red Hood’s whole being shuddered. The agonizing pain that been growing, growing, growing—

It quieted. Sharply and suddenly.

The relief from the pain almost hurt worse.

Red Hood curled around the hand. His fingers dug desperately into the sleeve to make sure the stranger didn’t pull away. The shock of whatever had momentarily pushed the pain back started to fade and Red Hood, to his shame, let out a keening whine.

“Shush,” the stranger soothed gently. Red Hood wasn’t sure how he even heard them over the klaxon of alarms and shouting. “It hurts. I know it hurts. But I won’t let them keep hurting you. I swear to you.”

There was a weight to those words— a promise in that vow— that felt like it seared itself in Red Hood’s bones.

Whoever this was, Red Hood believed them.

There was a whisper of air as the door opened.

“Nightingale, get out of there, right now,” the Hellblazer hissed.

It made Red Hood bare his teeth in a soundless growl even though no one could see it under the helmet.

The stranger— Nightingale— let out a huff of air that was almost amused. As if he had noticed.

“Oh I’ll come out, Constantine, we both will.” Nightingale twisted their hand in Red Hoods grip.

Red Hood almost made that pathetic sound again, fearing loss of the touch, but they simply twined their fingers together.

“Nightingale, you don’t know who he is.”

“Oh he’s a he now, not an it? Good of you to finally tell me, John. Really glad that it was clear from the dossier that I was going to be meeting a person not a thing or a creature. Oh no, wait, no it wasn’t,” Nightingale snarked. His voice was dry, but there was an undercurrent to it that made the hair on Red Hood’s arm stand up.

Where the lights always dimmer in the brig?

“Do you even know what he is?” Nightingale asked.

Part of Red Hood’s instincts told him to get out of there, that Nightingale was dangerous in a way he couldn’t even imagine. He just gripped their hand tighter instead.

Nightingale squeezed back. “I asked you a question, John. Do you know what he is?”

The main door opened suddenly; Superman flew through it. Red Hood twisted his hold on Nightingale’s hand, pulling his own arm against his back and forcing the other behind him. His free hand twitched towards his empty holster. Everyone in the room was a threat, but Red Hood didn’t like the offensive stance Superman landed in.

“How did he get out?” Superman asked.

“Nightingale walked through the wall,” Wonder Woman explained. Red Hood’s gaze darted to her. She still seemed calm, if watchful.

It felt like the shadows were flickering.

Superman crossed his arms. “Did we know he could do that?”

“No,” the Hellblazer ground out. He looked around them nervously, taking note of the way the lights shifted. “Nightingale—”

“He is a protector spirit, John!” Nightingale yelled. Wailed. It wasn’t a yell, it was a wail. The echo of it stuck inside Red Hood’s mind, bouncing around like a bullet. Everyone in the room flinched. Nightingale’s fingers pushed under the edge of Red Hood’s glove and found a strip of skin to stroke. It forced Red Hood to take a shuddering breath. The bullet stopped bouncing.

Nightingale took a breath of his own. Red Hood could feel it from where the other was leaning against his back. This stranger was coiled tension and danger and a carefully reigned in tone. “He’s a protector spirit and you are destroying him! You locked him up away from his haunt! How dare you.”

“Nightingale,” the Hellblazer said, stepping forward with hands raised (as if he didn’t have magic at his fingertips). “You know me. You know how I work. You know that I wouldn’t lock up a protector spirit if I knew that’s what they were. We had no idea, Pomp, I promise. Couldn’t even suspect. The person Red Hood was separated from is alive.”

The flickering shadows spiked. The whole room seemed to darken. Red Hood twisted his hand a little tighter into the sleeve he still had a hold on.

“The what?” Nightingale growled.

“It is clear that there is a great deal of information missing on all sides,” Wonder Woman said, her voice a calm certainty in the middle of the tension. “Let us turn off the alarms and go have this discussion somewhere we can sit down.”

-----

AN: Bad news, still sick, good news, it's not a new long term condition! And I should be near the end of it. Also good news, my tired brain wrote you more of this! Does this answer any questions or does it just make more???

I no longer tag people for several reasons! You can instead subscribe on the masterpost.

[sand-minion]

Both Ways at Once Part 1

wc 868, Masterpost

“You’ve read the dossier?”

The clipped words were in time with their quick steps down the pristine white hall.

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Unlike you, Hellblazer, I read my contracts before I sign them.”

“You wound me, Pomp,” John said, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’m just trying to protect you from the Big Bad Bat. He’s had a bit of a mare over this case. Hell, as a consultant, you shouldn’t even be seeing this with the access level things are at, but…”

“But you’re stuck and need my pretty baby blues on things to help you out,” Danny said, batting his lashes obnoxiously at John.

“Fuck off,” John said without any heat and shoved Danny away. “But the Bat is anxious about it. All the Bats are. If you can help us solve it sooner, then the better, because when the Bats are on edge, everyone is on edge. And it’s a fucking nightmare around here already with all the bloody do-gooders let alone when they’re all worked up about something…”

“Everyone’s on edge, got it.”

“Nightingale,” John said, voice unusually serious— serious enough to make Danny stop even without the hand on his arm. “I’m not saying this lightly. I like you, like you well enough for a psychopomp and whatever the fuck else you are at least. Tread lightly.”

“Got it, Constantine. I’ll work extra hard not to piss anyone off,” Danny said, patting John’s hand with his own tattooed one. Danny picked back up his same quick pace, but his mind now spun trying to figure out what exactly he was walking into. The dossier hadn’t gone into details, just conditions. Supposedly the risk— some side effect created by a villainous magical spell gone wrong— was presently and thoroughly contained. Danny would be able to observe the risk, the individual originally affected, and the items present at the time. He was not to interact directly with the risk, answer it’s questions, or under any circumstance touch it.

It read as a pretty standard contract magical unknown.

John wouldn’t be this concerned by a standard magical unknown. So what was he about to walk into? It seemed like he might actually want to listen to John this time, even if that was always a fifty-fifty chance of being an absurdly stupid idea.

Danny shifted his grip anxiously on the handle of his kit: an old traveling salesman’s briefcase fitted out with a careful collection of haphazard items. Most of the other occult practitioners mocked Danny’s tendency for used items. Half burned candles, old books wiped and rewritten, estate sale candy dishes— odd choices for most people, but for Danny they sang. They spilled the secrets of the world known and unknown to him. He had to trust that between his tools and his skills (let them believe he was a mere psychopomp), he would come out of this at least safe, if not with answers.

Didn’t mean that a few of his tattoos didn’t crawl in warning.

(Who knew what spot of skin that damn ink moth would wander to now.)

“Justice Leaguers,” Danny greeted with a nod as they finally finished winding through repetitive hallways and stopped outside a room.

“Nightingale, thank you for being able to attend to this so promptly,” Wonder Woman greeted him. Of the Justice League members (outside of the Darks) that Danny had interacted with on other consulting gigs she might be Danny’s favorite, so he offered her a smile.

“Of course, it sounded like things were possibly on a time table from the contract, so I’m glad I was between pressing matters,” Danny said. Right then his most pressing matter was a need to find a laundry mat, but the Justice League certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Right, well,” John jumped in when no one else said anything, not that Danny had expected much from Batman with how he was lurking like a shadow. “Er, this way.”

Danny glanced at the room label of ‘containment cells’ as the door unlocked with a clank and hissed open. After John’s warning, he wasn’t surprised that they were taking whatever this was seriously.

There was more white and gleaming metal behind the door. A neat row of spartan cells were set behind thick acrylic glass and metal. Danny’s eyes locked on the figure in the third cell. He stumbled.

He might be sick.

“What the fuck are you all doing?!” The words ripped from Danny in a snarl.

That was a protector spirit.

He brushed past Wonder Woman and through John’s reaching arm.

They had a protector spirit in a cell.

Intangibility washed over Danny, cold as always, as he stepped through the glass wall of the cell.

The spirit stopped in their pacing, the opaque red helmet tilting.

John screamed something at him.

The flashing red of alarms glinted off gleaming surfaces.

Danny reached out and rested his hand over the spirit’s sternum, and they practically crumpled around the touch. Gloved hands clung desperately to Danny’s arm.

A low growl rumbled in Danny’s chest. “They’re hurting you.”

They had a protector spirit in a cell.

How dare they.

----

AN: So, um, yeah. Still sick. Not a cold or allergies at all and not easy to clear up and prob a new life long thing. Which is great. Super cool. I needed more ways to be sick.

But have the start of this thing that I used to take my mind off things! My, what could be going on?? (Also why do I apparently have a tattooed Danny agenda?)

Stay delightful (and well), darlings!

I no longer tag people for various reasons. You can instead be notified by subscribing to the masterpost!

[sand-minion]

City Pigeons Bleed Green: Epilogue

masterpost

She didn’t even have the door all the way open before she knew that something was wrong. There was a creeping feeling along the back of her neck that made her reach for the tazer in her bag. Before she would have had a Creep Stick by the door, but she didn’t anymore, not after…

The door hit the wall as she swung it suddenly open. The few photos she had hung up rattled and she winced. Hopefully none of them fell; they were all she had. She tightened her grip on her tazer.

“I know how this looks, but I promise you that we don’t mean you any harm.”

Jazz slowly stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind herself. “I certainly hope that Batman doesn’t mean me any harm or I’ve really fucked up.”

Batman was standing in her tiny apartment kitchen diner. Another massive hero stood next to him, splashed in bold red. She was pretty sure that the one sitting cross legged on her table was Nightwing, leader of the Titans. Which, great, now she’d have to scrub her table. Nightwing popped a jellybean in his mouth. The all-black figure on the counter behind him held the bag of sweets that Jazz had left out earlier that day.

She set her bag down but kept the tazer in her hand. She doubted that it would do anything against the armored suits, but it made her feel better.

“You’re here about them, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

Jazz appreciated how direct Batman was.

Nightwing leaned forward. “My team, the Titans, are working on rounding up the last of the GIW. They’ve already taken care of all three headquarters. The Justice League is handling the legal side of it with the US government and the United Nations.”

The relief of the news was so heady that Jazz felt like her knees might go out. “That—that’s good. Thank you. What about…?”

What about them.

It was subtle, but all of the vigilantes but the one in full black tensed. It was Nightwing who forced himself to relax and speak. “We moved on the headquarters first. It seems that there was some attempt at… clean-up of their assets by the GIW. The doctor Fentons are dead.”

“Good,” Jazz bit. It made her gut roil, that she was glad that her parents were dead, but she was.

Nightwing nodded, as if pleased by her fury, and unfurled to rest his feet on the ground. “Why don’t you put the tazer down, and we can talk more.”

Jazz’s hand tightened unconsciously around it.

“Please don’t taze my new family, I want you guys to get along.”

It couldn’t be.

“I mean,” rumbled the one with red, “I hit B with a crowbar the first time I met him.”

“Spoiler threw a brick at Robin’s face,” said the one all in black. “Tim Robin.”

“Okay, that tracks. But still don’t taze them, please?” Danny asked. Danny who stepped forward between the two looming figures. Danny who was there with black hair and blue eyes and breathing. Danny who was alive.

Suddenly Jazz didn’t think she could breathe anymore.

Danny was alive.

“Your hair has gotten long,” Jazz felt herself say. What a stupid thing to say, but it had. It brushed the top of his shoulders and framed his face in a way that he almost looked like a different person. But Jazz knew her brother, new scars and all. God, there were so many scars. “I thought, I thought you were dead. Deader dead. I thought they had—”

“Nearly,” Danny said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shifted nervously. “I escaped. I didn’t know where you were, but I found out in their notes that I was, that, um…”

Danny glanced up at Batman, who reached up and pulled down his cowl. Like it was nothing. Like Jazz was just someone who was supposed to see the face under it. It only took a second to get why. It was older and harder in its line’s, but she’d seen that face almost every day of her childhood. It was Danny’s face.

“How…?”

“Cloning and a really long story,” Danny said. “I got to them about six months ago, but the GIW was still around. It wasn’t safe for me to come to you or let you know I was alive in case they were watching you and I wanted to Jazz, I did, but—”

Cutting her brother off, Jazz rushed forward. The heroes all tensed. Danny met her halfway into a crushing hug.

“Hey, sis,” he whispered into her shoulder. He was still so small, just like she remembered him.

“Hey, little brother,” she sobbed.

[sand-minion]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, Part 31 masterpost cw: strongly implied off screen murder and discussions about it

“Do you need me to pull the car over so that you can put your make-up on?” Jason asked.

Tim shot him a withering stare. “Do I look like I need you to pull over so that I can do my make-up?”

“See, I know better than to answer yes to that,” Jason said cheerily, “but I also don’t want to deal with you poking out an eye with a mascara wand.”

“I’m not going to poke out an eye putting on mascara.”

“Or bitching the rest of the drive because your lipstick is slightly crooked.”

Tim paused. “…okay, that I might do.”

“And we’re pulling over!”

“Fine,” Tim sighed, “We need to spray your skunk streak black anyways and change.”

“I can’t believe their uniforms are really all white suits,” Jason said as he looked for a convenient side road to pull of onto.

“I know, have they never heard of no white after Labor Day?” Tim asked as he dusted something over his cheekbones.

Jason snorted. “Yeah, cause that’s my problem with the all white suits. Nothing about them being impractically easy to stain.”

Tim hummed. “White is easy to bleach, think lab coats and hotel sheets.”

“That only solves the problem if they don’t have to go anywhere before they can get the stains out,” Jason pointed out.

“It works if they think that they’re immune to any repercussion of having stains,” Tim said. He set the fluffy brush he had been using down. “How often do you think they walked around with Danny’s blood like it was nothing?”

Jason gripped the steering wheel so hard that it creaked under his hands. “Never again.”

“No,” Tim agreed. “Never again. Not any of them.”

“I hate that we can be as final with all of them,” Jason said as he forced himself to relax his grip.

“I know, but the organization is better handled by the Titans and Justice League. Bringing the law into their end will have more lasting effects than bring an end to their agents.”

“Damn bureaucracies,” Jason grumbled. “Always someone else to fill in a spot.”

Tim hummed in agreement. “If taking out agents and bases was enough, the LOA would be long gone, trust me.”

“Oh I do, Timbit. It’s why you’re the one in this car with me. I don’t have any illusions about your hands being clean or worry your commitment wavering.”

“Good, it won’t.”

“I know.”

Jason turned the car down a road and off to the side where it was hidden between tall rows of corn. Tim leaned forward to continue his make up. He really was the best chameleon of them all, even the old man. Jason tried not to think too hard about what that meant for Tim himself. Things were better now, that was enough. He grabbed the can of hairspray from Tim’s bag.

“There’s contacts in there for you too,” Tim said. “And put in the pomade before the spray so that it doesn’t run. You need to slick your hair back for that government lackey sort of look.”

“Glamorous. Is that why your shade of lipstick is so horrific?”

“Bland yet obligatorily feminine,” Tim replied with a flutter of his eyelashes.

Jason snorted as he set about running enough pomade through his hair to make a 1930’s man proud. He stepped out of the car to use the can of spray color and clean his hands off. The dusky contacts were popped in next before he fussed with getting his hair swept over just right and the sides pressed flat against the his head.

Tim finished about the same time with his wig, so Jason grabbed both garment bags and spread the one out on the trunk for Tim. By the time they were back in the car it was like Jason Todd and Tim Drake were never there. Agent UU and Z settled easily into the seats and continued on their way.

“We’re not making a mess,” Tim—or double U— said some time later.

Jason growled.

“I know, but we need to keep this clean.” There was just the right amount of lilt to the voice to sound like a determined woman who had spent to long fitting into a ‘mans’ world. “This is just the GIW cleaning up two assets before they can be picked up and spill secrets to the cops.”

“What’s the plan then?”

“The pen in your pocket is really a needle with a very quick acting sedative. It paralyzes. Everything.”

Jason nodded. “Okay. Act like we’re extracting, get them apart to gather vital items, stab them?”

“In the neck.”

“Okay.” Jason pulled the car to a stop in front of bland suburban house.

As if they had practiced, they exited the car in sync with one another, slight tug to their white suit jackets and everything, and approached the door in a matching clipped pace. Tim was a step ahead (a woman would be better received) and rang the doorbell before crossing his arms behind his back. Jason made himself breath as the door opened.

“Dr. Fenton,” Tim said. “Agents UU and Z. It’s urgent that we come inside, the GIW is breached.”

[sand-minion]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, part 30.5

masterpost

“Hey, Dami,” Danny called softly as he settled onto the edge of the lower bunk that Damian was in. On the floor, Jon snorted and turned over to plan his face in Ursa’s fur. “We are supposed to be sleeping,” Damian said even as he scooted over to make room for Danny. Danny settled into the offered space. “Yeah, but I knew you weren’t asleep either.” “No.” Danny made a little noise of agreement back. He should have thought of how to say what he needed to say before he came down. He felt lucky that Damian waited until he got there. “I’m not going to leave you behind.” “What?” “I’m not going to leave you behind,” Danny said again. “I know I can fly and I know that it scares you that Jon and I both can and have powers, but neither of us are going to leave you behind.” “I am not—” Danny reached over and grabbed Damian’s hand. “It’s okay to be scared of losing people that you care about, but we’re not going to leave you behind, okay?” Damian tsked, but he tangled his fingers with Danny’s, so Danny figured his brother got the message. He was pretty sure Damian wouldn’t leave them behind either.

[sand-minion]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, part 30

masterpost

It was easy to see why a super hero powered on the sun was from Kansas. Danny had spent more time outside over the last few days than he had in years. Miss Martha had started joking that Danny was turning into a lizard by the way he had taken to lounging on any warm surface if things were still for more than a minute. He couldn’t really deny it either; his favorite spot was the metal roof of the barn.

“Brother!” Damian called from somewhere down below.

“I’m up here!” Danny shouted back.

“Yes, of course you are,” Damian said, the words more a grumbled aside than anything.

(Danny thought that Damian was a little sulky about not being able to fly like him and Jon could.)

(But Damian was way better with the animals, so.)

A little bit later the doors on the hay loft opened, followed the sounds of Damian climbing up onto the roof. Danny stayed right where he was and waited for Damian to settle next to him.

“What are you even looking at?”

“The clouds,” Danny said with a little shrug and wave towards the distant thunderheads.

“Why?” Damian said, as incredulous sounding as he ever let himself be.

“Because it’s fun to see things in them.”

“…is this a ghost thing or have you fallen off the roof and hit your head?”

Danny laughed.

Damian scowled.

“Nope. It’s just, like that one there, to the right of the really big one,” Danny pointed. “It looks like stegosaurus.”

“…right, so you have fallen off the roof and hit your head.”

“Hey guys!” Jon chirped as he floated up over the edge of the roof. “What are you doing?”

“Cloud gazing,” Danny said at the same time as Damian said, “Engaging in delusions.”

“Oh sweet,” Jon said and sat down between Danny and Damian. He always seemed to like that, to wedge himself between the two of them so that he was touching both of them. “Oh, that one is totally a boa constrictor who ate an elephant.”

Damian turned to give Jon such a look of being done that Danny dissolved into laughter again. Danny didn’t think Jon got why he was laughing, but that never stopped Jon from joining in. The sounds of their trailing giggles were a distinct contrast to Damian’s long suffering sigh.

“Why do you enjoy being up here so much?” Damian asked, eventually. He didn’t lay down like Danny and Jon but leaned forward onto his knees.

Danny hummed back in question.

“Both of you can fly. You can be so much higher than this roof with ease,” Damian said, “so why do you enjoying being up on a roof like this?”

“Oh, well, it’s like you being up on the Manor roof, isn’t it?” Danny asked after a moment.

“I can’t fly, Brother,” Damian said as if Danny had stupidly forgotten that.

“Duh, but you swing. You can’t fly but you can fly. It’s some of the same reasons you like to be on the Manor roof even though you can be up on top of skyscrapers,” Danny said. “The Manor roof is somewhere safe.”

After a moment, Damian gave a little noise of understanding.

“And also,” Danny continued, “I miss the sun. I didn’t get to see it for so long that I think I’m still making up lost time. The sun here is closer to the type of sun I used to remember. It’s different in Gotham with the clouds and smog and ocean.”

“You can always come here!” Jon said. “Ma and Pa both like you so they wouldn’t mind. Like, if you need sun like this, you can come here.”

“I can’t just show up here,” Danny said, even though the offer made him smile.

“Sure you can! Seriously, they love you already. I can totally tell because of what they got you for your birthday.”

“My what?” Danny asked. It wasn’t his birthday, his birthday was in—oh. His new birthday. Annalise’s death day.

“Wonderful job, Jon,” Damian bit, more harshly than Danny thought was really fair. “The party was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I never said there was a party!” Jon argued. “You’re who just gave that away!”

“Birthday presents, or so I have learned, necessitate a birthday party where family is involved.” Damian said.

Danny thought it said more that Damian had to learn that fact.

Jon huffed. “Ma and Pa aren’t Danny’s family! Though, like, okay, they would have totally adopted Danny if Bruce hadn’t so that might not be the best argument ever.”

“How about I just pretend that neither of you mentioned a present or party or anything,” Danny said, hoping to cut off any arguments. Even though Danny secretly thought that they enjoyed arguing with each other, when Damian and Jon got going they really go going. It was getting late enough that Danny wanted to head it off before the argument was the rest of the night.

Jon snapped his mouth closed before cautiously saying, “That would be easiest.”

“Tt. Fine, that will work,” Damian said.

Danny nodded definitively. “Good. Now come on, Dami, tell us what one of the clouds look like.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“N—”

“Come on, Dami,” Jon urged.

“Just one,” Danny bargained.

“One cloud,” Damian agreed after a ridiculously long pause. After an even longer pause he pointed to a cloud with the tiniest of smirks and said, “That one there looks like a cloud.”

Jon and Danny both booed so loudly Clark came out into the porch to see what was going on.

(There may have been a cow tipping incident early on in the visit that Danny blamed Jon for.)

(Mostly.)

---

AN: Big time skip this chapter! But it gets us to the last parts we need to cover~ This = the first part of chapter 19. I think we will have a short epilogue after this chapter.

[sand-minion]

City Pigeons Bleed Green, p29

masterpost

The yellow flowers were bright against the headstone.

Danny had gone with a bouquet of small sunflowers. Something about how cheerful and slightly silly the flowers were seemed right. Bruce thought they were a good choice too.

“I don’t actually know what to say,” Danny started. Bruce had stepped back a bit under a tree with Ursa to give Danny some privacy. “I’ve never actually talked to a grave like this. I don’t have one. A grave, I mean; I don’t have a grave. I’m glad that you do.”

After a moment of debate about appropriateness, Danny sat down next to the grave. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He had always thought graveyards would feel gloomy, but it was oddly peaceful. He wondered if he felt more settled there because of what he was.

“Bruce told me about you. I mean, he said that what he knew was dated, even before your death, but tried. He tries a lot, which I think you must have known if you were friends with him, if you went to him for help.” Danny rested his head on his knees. Despite the years, Annalise’s name was still crisp on the headstone. “I think I understand that about him easier than the other kids, but I guess that’s because of what I am? I know what it’s like to try too hard too.

“He’s actually been a really good dad to me. I know there are things he fucked up with in the past, but for me he’s been good. I also like the rest of the family and I think you’d like them t00, from what Dad has said. You’d be especially good with Damian. I think he could use someone soft in his life that just loved him because he’s him. I mean, I think maybe I could use that too?”

Danny sighed and fell quiet. A damselfly flew past, idly resting on bits of the graveyard.

“I’m sorry that I never got to meet you. I’m sorry that Bruce never got to meet your child,” Danny said when the damselfly had moved on. “I know I’m not her, but I hope it’s okay that we’re pretending that I am. Dad seems so certain that you’d be okay with this since it’s to help protect me, but I kinda hate that we didn’t get to ask you. It’s just that… it makes you my mom, and that shouldn’t be forced on someone. Even the dead should get that right.”

With another sigh, Danny stood and dusted off his jeans. He reached out to lightly rest his fingers on the headstone. “Anyways, I just wanted to come and say thank you. Even though we just did it, thank you for being an option. Oh, and that I’m going to try to be a son that you can be proud of. I hope you and the baby are resting well.”

Once Danny got back to the tree, Bruce rested his hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Did you say what you needed to?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Danny bent down to ruffle Ursa’s fur in greeting (and maybe a bit to have to avoid meeting Bruce’s eyes).

“We can always come back if you need to say more,” Bruce said. “I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

Danny couldn’t help but smile a little. He knew Bruce didn’t believe that talking to a grave did anything. To be fair, Danny didn’t know how much it actually did, but he felt that some of it got through. It had to. But even if Bruce didn’t believe in it, he was so willing to put up with the drive just because Danny did believe in it.

“Thanks. Maybe after our summer trip?”

“I think that would make sense. Now, do you want to eat somewhere or just get something from a drive through?”

Danny’s gut said to do a drive through, but he knew that was still mostly about being afraid. He was trying not to be as afraid. “I guess… if there’s somewhere dog friendly or that we can eat outside at, we can eat here. That has to be easier for you, right?”

“It would be, but it also wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve driven and eaten something,” Bruce said as he handed over Ursa’s leash. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through something.

“You already have a list of places, don’t you?”

Bruce gave a slightly sheepish little smile. “I like to be prepared.”

“Yeah, I know,” Danny said, because he really did get it. “Okay, pick one for us? I could eat whatever.”

“Whatever’ it is.”

-

Danny found himself drifting off in the car. It was rude, he guessed, to not stay awake and keep Bruce company on the drive, but he almost couldn’t help it. The sunlight through the window was warm. Ursa, who had insisted on sitting on the floor in the front, had her head resting on his lap. Bruce, as if sensing that Danny wouldn’t last, had put on some sort of podcast that was low volume and mellow.

His eyes slipped closed.

Time drifted past as he floated in that spot in between. It was actually one of his favorite states of being. Not awake but just awake enough to know that he wasn’t exactly asleep. It was the perfect sort of state to just spend lounging in bed and relaxing. Or on a warm day on a drive where he knew he was safe.

“Danny.”

“Hum?”

“Open your eyes for me, honey.”

Everything was bright, almost blinding green. It took Danny’s eyes a moment to adjust. It took longer to understand what he was seeing. “How am I in the ghost zone?!”

“You aren’t. I believe it’s more like we’re standing on opposite sides of of a bridge.”

Danny shook his head and tried to focus on the swirling reality. “Who… oh. Oh, you’re Annalise, aren’t you?”

Annalise smiled back. Her hair, pale blue and flame like, drifted around her like she was under water. One pale hand rested on her still round belly. Her eyes were golden and kind. “Or ‘mom’, if you’d rather.”

Even in this odd dream state, Danny could feel the blush climbing up his cheeks. “I don’t mean to—”

“I know you don’t,” Annalise interrupted him gently. “I heard you when you were at my grave.”

“You did?”

Annalise hummed in confirmation. “I don’t think we have much time like this, so there’s something I need you to understand. Are you listening, Danny?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Bruce was right,” Annalise said. “You are my son now and I already love you so very much.”

“But—”

“You don’t have to do anything else to make me proud, honey, okay?”

Danny swallowed back his protest and the lump in his throat alike. “Okay. But what about…?” His eyes dropped to Annalise’s belly.

Annalise’s face fell a little and the hand on her stomach tightened for a moment. She did her best to recover her smile. She seemed to be getting smaller. No, further away. “Well, at least I don’t have back pain like this!”

“Find Clockwork!” Danny called. The green was cracking and shattering around him. “Ask him about the never born!”

“I will!” Her voice was faint now. “I love you, Danny.”

“I—I love you too!”

“Danny?” Bruce asked, his voice coming out of nowhere. “Are you alright? You’re crying.”

Danny scrubbed his palm over his cheek, surprised to find that he really was crying. He blinked the rest of the green away and was back in the sunlit car. He threaded his fingers into Ursa’s fur. “I’m okay.”

Bruce looked doubtful.

“I am,” Danny insisted. ��I really… I really think that I’m okay.”

[sand-minion]

Fan Joy July 2025 - Day 21

Child Soldier Club by @that-g3-obsessive is sooo funny and honestly just made me cackle while reading it🤣🤣🤣

What's bonding if not from trauma? These boys would 10000% turn this into a competition on who was the youngest hero🤣🤣 I love them so much hehe

Go read it!!

[sand-minion]

Just for the record, Dick could totally beat those kids up

[sand-minion]

Jason: I lost Damian. I turned around and he disappeared!

Bruce: I told you, never let him out of your sight. That goes double for zoos and science museums.

[sand-minion]

Batman: You need to let me implant a tracker in you

Tim Drake, Robin: Only if you let me implant one in you