#Danny got buried alive

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Do What I Cannot

This is based on My Graveyard Song because I was captivated by the idea of Danny’s parents burying him alive. That’s basically the only part I took though. This is about him being confronted with his parents again once freed.

This is unedited so feel free to point out mistakes. Contains graphic description of violence.

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The Justice League’s newest hero has been a wonderful asset, truly! Phantom is a rather powerful hero and even though some of his methods are a little questionable he follows the ‘no killing’ rule more strictly then some of the long-term members. Even if it’s just because he doesn’t want to deal with them as ghosts it still counts. Some of the more magical people have an idea that Phantom is more powerful then he’s letting on, but they don’t push it. After all he’s still just a teenager, they don’t really want to have him dealing with universal threats either.

Honestly even if he weren’t a hero Batman at least would have kept him around for the impressively positive affects he has on Red Hood. Jason had been calmer and more reasonable then he had been since his resurrection since digging up that grave and teaming up with Danny. It was just a little unsettling sometimes honestly, sometimes his eyes would glint with the green of the Lazarus waters and everyone would tense up prepared for an aggressive outburst only for Jason to announce he needed to find Danny and leave. The more suspicious minds found it odd, but they figured it was just because Phantom could calm Jason down and didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Really the only problem was that knowing Phantom had alerted them to a potential new source of threat that they really knew very little about. The JLD knew some but not enough and the ways they had to fight ghosts were clunky and unreliable, they needed weapons that would work on ghosts. Not Phantom obviously, though the overly cautious ones privately thought about him too, just in case you know? And there weren’t many people who specialized in such tech, so of course their search lead them to the Drs. Fenton.

The magic users thought their methods were crude and crazy but had to admit they clearly worked so maybe it would be best to invest in at least some of their tech. At least to study and see if it could be improved on. So they were invited for a meeting, and it was decided Phantom would Not be told. Mostly because they didn’t want to stress him out and also because they’d learned these two were ‘shoot first ask questions later’ types who apparently didn’t believe there was such a thing as a good ghost so they might actually try and kill Danny on sight, which would be awkward.

The presentation they gave to the Justice League was predictably unhinged and they knew well enough to take all of it with a grain of salt, especially the part about all ghosts being evil. Danny had already explained it to them, that ghosts were driven by obsessions which meant they behaved differently then humans but the majority only lashed out when something got between them and their singular passion. Some were different, some had malicious passions and some were more complicated. Diana and J’onn both looked like they were trying hard not to pick a fight but they’d all agreed to smile and nod till they got access to the tech.

There was a familiar sudden chill in the room, looking around Batman could tell a few others felt it too, though Flash was typically oblivious.

“Oh dear,” J’onn whispered before Phantom appeared.

“Hey guys what’s up?” He asked, cheerful but slightly accusatory, they should have known better then to think they could keep the meeting from him. Before they could think of anything to say Danny’s eyes caught on the Fentons and narrowed.

“GET DOWN!” Jack yelled pulling out one of those stupid blasters from somewhere.

“What a perfect chance for a demonstration,” Maddie said, sliding on a pair of gantlets.

“You-you don’t recognize me, do you?” Danny asked, and for a moment he looked hurt, then something happened none of them had ever seen before, his eyes turned red. The toxic green they were used to changed to a deep, blood red and his feet touched the ground as he stalked forward. Jack shot, Danny didn’t break stride, a green shield blocked the blast like it was nothing. Maddie tried to lung and was immediately hit in the gut by one of Phantom’s ecto-blasts, knocking her back against the glass.

Batman leapt up and tried to lung and stop Phantom only to hit a wall that rippled with green, a bubble surrounding the ghost and the two hunters, invisible until struck.

Danny grinned, shark like teeth on full display without any mirth, white hair whipping in an unfelt wind, flowing so it almost looked like flames. “I guess I look a lot different then I did when you buried me alive huh? How long did you leave me? Because you ‘couldn’t kill you son’ so you thought it would be more merciful to lock me away till everything human about me rotted.”

“No,” Maddie gasped, recognition suddenly sharp and painful on her features.

“Yes ‘mom’,” Danny snarled bitterly. Jack tried to shoot again but the blaster was knocked out of his hands so quickly no one was sure what hit him before it could fully charge. “YOU MADE ME! AND YOU ABANDONED ME! You’re lucky someone found me, I would have gotten strong enough to break out on my own eventually and if I had I would have destroyed everything.”

“Oh my god, his parents?” Diana nearly whispered. Batman understood how she felt, Danny didn’t like to talk about how he’d ended up buried ‘alive’, that his parents were the ones who had done it… that was horrific. It made sense why he had never been able to speak about it, but Damn that would have been good to know before they had invited Danny’s abusers to give a presentation on weapons that had no doubt been used to hurt him. And now.. what? They couldn’t get to Danny, it seemed like he had gotten to the point that Raven did sometimes when her emotions overwhelmed her, could they get to Danny? Could they stop him from doing something he might regret?

“You are not our son,” Maddie hissed, her breathing still coming in a harsh wheeze from the blow to her stomach. “Danny is dead! He’s gone. You’re just an acto-entity imitating him, and not even well, you’re just a parasite.”

Danny seemed to be losing some control of his form, it was stretching, getting taller, his fingers curling into dangerous claws tipped with the blackness of the star studded void. “Pathetic mortals, you act as if you will never die, but you will join my kingdom. Perhaps it will be punishment enough to become what you hate, perhaps not. Perhaps I will speed up the process so you can’t hurt anyone else,” He snarled his hands beginning to glow with familiar green of his energy blast.

“Danny stop!” Superman said, hitting the burier to try and get through but not even he could break it. Danny didn’t seem to be responding to them though he was hesitating.

Batman was resigning himself to watching Phantom kill his once parents before Jason walked by him. Batman wasn’t usually taken by surprise, but he was shocked, and worried, both because he could see the green glow of pit madness through the eyes of his helmet, which was worrying, and because he walked through the burier keeping the rest of the heroes out like it was nothing.

He walked to Danny, taking his hand, there was a soft sizzle as the gathered green energy burned Jason’s hand without him even seeming to notice. He pulled Danny down to the ground from where he was floating, pulling the young hero into his arms. Danny let himself be pulled into Jason’s arms, the green energy fizzling out as he wrapped his own arms back around Jason’s waist, hiding against his chest. As the anger faded he slumped against Jason’s chest.

Just as the heroes were breathing a sigh of relief and relaxing Maddie went for the dropped gun. But she wasn’t fast enough as Jason drew his own pistol, the one with live ammo, and put a bullet in her head. Diana cried out in shock and Batman froze as blood and brain matter splattered over the watchtower floor and her body slumped. Before anyone could recover Jack followed, another shot executioner style and Batman had to turn away.

The watchtower was completely silent, enough so that he could hear Phantom’s soft sniffles as he cried into Jason’s chest. When Batman looked back Jason had holstered his gun and was just holding Danny Close. The green had faded enough from his eyes that it seemed safe, Batman approached warily and wasn’t surprised to find that the invisible burier was gone now that both the Fenton’s were dead.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said softly as he heard the approach, without emerging from his hiding place in Jason’s arms where he seemed to feel safe. “I wasn’t actually going to kill them, but I guess my want to, my emotions, were strong enough to make Jason respond. I didn’t mean to call you that way.” He looked up at Jason, his eyes green again though red rimmed from tears.

“It’s alright, I would have done it anyway,” Jason growled, holding Danny even tighter. “I’ve killed people for less, they deserved it.”

Batman took a deep breath forcing himself to keep his cool about his son’s constant flouting of his no killing rule, now was not the time to make Phantom feel worse. “Jason why don’t you take him down to one of the sitting rooms so he can calm down.” No doubt Phantom was reliving trauma, and grieving because even if he wanted them dead they had been his parents.

Jason nodded and scooped Danny into his arm who let out an indignant little squawk and insisted he could walk while making no attempt to actually get down. Jason ignored Danny’s performative complaints and kept the young hero’s head hidden against his chest so he wouldn’t have to see the corpses of his parents while Jason carried him out of the room.

Now, how best to deal with the aftermath of… all this. And later on he really would have to ask Danny and Jason what he’d meant by Jason responding to his energy, because it seemed like there might be something more to their relationship then just Danny calming Jason down and that was worrying to say the least.

Part 2: here

[bet-on-me-13]

Ellie wasn't born a Halfa

So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.

A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.

Because the kid was glowing.

When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.

(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)

When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.

"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."

And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.

"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"

"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."

Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!

"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"

She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.

"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".

For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.

It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.

"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."

"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."

"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.

"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."

"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.

"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."

Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!

The Pits perked up

He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.

"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.

"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.

The Pits felt a sense of dread

Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"

"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."

No...

Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.

"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."

NO.

He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.

"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."

...

For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.

...

Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.

Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.

And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.

Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.

When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.

[spacedace]

Got another dc x dp writing prompt blurb thing for yall (this time featuring TimKon)

Elle declaring herself Queen of the Clones as a joke because Danny is the Ghost King and she should get a fun title too and accidentally making herself effectively the god of clones across all dimensions as a result.

Elle being suddenly aware of all the clones in existence in a vague way, but able to "tune in" on specific ones, or suddenly becoming aware when a clone is in serious trouble.

Elle deciding, fuck it, she's gonna take care of all the clones that need taking care of, turning her haunt in the Ghost Zone into a place of safety, using her new abilities as God Queen of Clones to make it so whenever any of them need help they get pulled to her Haunt instantly.

Connor getting mortally wounded in a fight, saving the day but getting buried in rubble away from where anyone would be able to dig him out in time to save him and suddenly being Somewhere Else.

Connor getting saved by Elle and the yetis, but having amnesia from the severe headroom (he can't remember anything except maybe the face of a boy his age, dark circles under sharp blue eyes, a wry smile, the understanding that Connor was in love with whoever the boy is or was).

Elle not being able to tell where Connor is from, her Haunt just pulls clones in trouble in when they need her help, there's no sending address or anything like that. And he was in such bad shape its not like she trusts that sending him back to where ever he's from is even safe to do.

Connor being one of the permanent residents of Elle's haunt (she always tries to find the clones that end up there a place of their own, getting Clockwork to de-age them and a good family to love them for those that want that, a spot in Amity where clones don't even register as anything weird, or just back to where they came from but now with the promise of somewhere to call home and a new family of clones to care for them) and ends up with the title of her knight or champion or something along the way, looking after everyone when Elle is off traveling and generally being vice-president of Clone Club

Elle getting captured by the GIW while out seeing the world, unable to escape but at least able to alert her family that she's in trouble.

Danny and the Pham not being able to break in because of all the upped security keeping away anything ghostly or ghost adjacent

Connor and a group of the clone club rallying to get Elle out themselves, breaking in and releasing as many ghosts as they can and destroying as much as they can and oops the Justice League has shown up

Connor not having powers in the Ghost Zone and being very freaked out when he punched Superman in the face and sent him flying a hundred yards, surprising the Clone Club with his super strength and surprising the League with his surprise about his super strength and frantic apologies to Superman for yeeting him across an open field (up to this point they assumed this was another evil clone situation Lex cooked up but now aren't so sure).

The GIW ends up closing in to attack the clones who just got Elle back and need to make a break for it before the portal back closes while that's happening and Connor decides to be self-sacrificing and give them cover, so they can escape.

Connor surrendering to the Justice League before the GIW can grab him once everyone else is free and clear, because he knows Elle and the other Clones will break him out and that's gonna be a lot easier if he's not in GIW custody

Tim and the Young Justice gang losing their God damn minds because that's Connor?? Maybe?? He doesn't remember them or the Justice League or Superman or anything but it has to be him right? They never found his body, Tim had been so sure he was still out there alive somehow - had lost weeks and months to maddening grief, desperately searching for some sign that Connor was out there somewhere - and now here he is!

Connor refusing to talk to the JL, low key trying to figure out if they actually do know who he is or if it's a trick - the Pham's stories of what they've all had to deal with and his own recent raid on the GIW has left him with a healthy suspicion of anything government related and the JL may not be with the GIW but they sure as hell are still government goons as far as he's concerned.

The main league being worried that it's mind control or a clone scheme or something like that and not really being sure what to do. There's too many questions about what happened to him, where he's been, what he was doing in that raid on that government facility - there's questions too on just what kind of facility that was, and a new case has already been opened on that whole can of worms - and Connor (if it is Connor) isn't answer their questions.

So they put him in a cell with some Kryptonite to make sure his powers are suppressed - half out of concern that him surrendering to them is a scheme, half terrified that if he really doesn't know he has powers anymore that he'll accidentally destroy the Watchtower with a sneeze. They make sure it's comfortable, he did apologize about punching Superman in the face - a lot, actually, it was pretty much the only thing he had said the entire time, along with very concerned questions on if the Man of Steel was okay - and while there's something strange going on, if it's mind control then they'd rather Connor come back to himself somewhere decent.

And no one is supposed to talk to him alone, or outside of a formal interrogation or without Wonder Woman there in case Connor gets hostile - even with the Kryptonite, they can't be too careful - but that's not going to stop Tim. His best friend is alive, there isn't a power in the universe that's going to keep him away.

Connor doesn't recognize him. Except that he does. It's weird, because his only memory has been the face of that boy, but there's also just something so familiar about Red Robin and it's the first familiar thing he's known since waking up in the Far Frozen over a year ago.

For awhile it's just Tim talking, trying to get Connor to remember, trying to do anything he can to prove (to everyone, to himself) that this really is Connor. And after over an hour he's nowhere near ready to give up, but he is maybe ready to go and have a breakdown in a supply closet for a bit, when Connor finally starts talking back.

He doesn't say much - he's suspicious, even as he becomes more and more sure that Red Robin is someone to him - but he does start talking and, it's nice. Familiar.

And just as he's considering actually telling Red Robin something - everything, really, Connor's always been a sucker for a cute boy that looked one more cup of coffee away from a psychotic break - the cavalry arrives. Ghosts everywhere, causing a distraction and looking for Connor and maybe just having a little fun fucking around for a bit while they're at it.

(Constantine is trying to sneak off to smoke somewhere he won't end up getting lectured like he's a disobedient school boy, opening a door to come face to spectral bellybutton with Fright Knight. He decides maybe Bats is right and he should quite smoking as he - fruitlessly - closes the door again without a word.)

Wulf is ready with a portal and Technus is in control of the station and the cell door opens just as Lunch Box appears to phase the cuffs off Connor (and maybe steal some of that delicious rock candy that was in those cuffs for some reason, her parents won't let her have any back at home and she's helping the royal family get one of their loyal knights back, she deserves a little treat) and it's time to go.

Tim's ready to throw down, terrified that whatever the hell these things are they're going to take Connor away again, but just as he's working out a plan on just how he's going to fight something that can walk through walls, disappear and fly (and eat fucking Kryptonite), he suddenly finds himself being thrown over Connor's shoulder and being carried through a terrifying rip in space and time to another dimension.

Conner can admit, as he lands back in Elle's haunt with all the ghosts streaming in behind him as the portal closes and the Clone Club rushing forward to check on him and Red Robin still slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes (a cute sake of potatoes, though) he might not have thought this one through.

Kidnapped by his amnesiac and possibly mind controlled best friend and dragged to hell(?) aside, Tim's just happy Conner brought him with him this time. Batman and the rest of the League, still reeling from what just happened, are not nearly as happy with that fact.

[possibly-not-a-ghost]

Fake Cryptids, Real Ghosts

Ok, so dp x dc/batfam because this AU has me by the throat but what if it's the fake cryptid batfamily AU who never joined the JL.

Just...imagine it. The Batfamily has been protecting Gotham quietly but fiercely by scaring the daylights out of criminals as creatures that go bump in the night. A bit of stage magic, frightening method acting, contortion, a whole language comprised of chirps, growls, and body language, and the best tech possible and you've got a recipe for striking fear into the hearts of everyone.

They've got shrines on the rooftops, vaguely on the JL radar (Cause really, who's gonna believe that Gotham, one of the worst cities has a demon problem? Constantine? Homeboy took one look at Gotham and went Nope.) and they're protected cause any self respecting Gothamite wouldn't go spilling the beans to Outsiders. The Bats keep them safe. Who would believe them anyways?

Enter half dead, half alive Danny Fenton.

Danny Fenton who has a best friend's named Tucker and Sam who find out about the Gotham Cryptids, and go absolutely ham on research because here lies something,a bunch of someone's who are Other. Maybe they're creepy but they're cool and they're Heroes and they help people.

Sure, at first it was an attempt from Sam and Tucker to help their best friend feel less alone in the face of other, more 'normal' heroes and people out there in the world. Maybe they try to further bury the Bats online cause if anyone understands keeping on the down low, it would be Amity Parker's. For awhile, Danny Fenton, sometimes Phantom is simply happy to know he's not alone.

Then he's outed and his sister who's long since been ecto-contaiminated is put at risk there's nowhere that seems safer. Gotham is a chaotic city, even without the Bats factoring in. After all Gotham has (Demons-Spirits-Creatures?) The Bats already. Who would care if a halfa and his sister hide out there? As long as they're respectful of their territory, it'll be fine right? Besides, they've got to warn the Bats anyways about the GIW and government. They're coming after ghosts, who knows if they'll be next? Spooky things have to look out for each other after all.

Cue shenanigans as Phantom who stops hiding all of his creepier traits as a ghost walks up to the Totally Human but Faking it Batman with really thoughtful gifts for all of their shrines (And one fruitcake), no heartbeat and an earnest plea for a safe haven in their Haunt because the Ancients taught him manners and the importance of respecting another entities territory.

[girlactionfigure]

Daniel Lewin and Mohammad Hamdani were two 9/11 heroes with very different stories.

Known as Danny by his friends, Lewin was the first person to die in the terrorist attacks, sixteen years ago today.

Danny was a passenger on American Airlines Flight 11 and an Israeli-American veteran of an elite IDF combat unit. He was trained in counter-terrorism and spoke fluent Arabic.

Investigators pieced together that Danny heard the terrorists plotting in Arabic and tried to stop the hijacking. He was stabbed to death by Saudi law student Satam al-Suqami.

Born and raised in Denver, Colorado, Danny emigrated to Israel with his family as a teenager. As a newcomer, he could have skipped his military service, but chose instead to serve and work his way up to the toughest unit in the IDF. He later became a successful internet entrepreneur.

Only 31 when he died, Danny had already made his mark on the world.

Mohammad Hamdani was a first responder who died at the World Trade Center on 9/11.

Mohammad immigrated with his family from Pakistan when he was a year old and grew up in Queens, NY. He played football for Bayside High. Hard-working and ambitious, Mohammad became an EMT and then a police cadet. He also applied to medical school, and in September 2001 he was waiting to hear if he’d been accepted. 

On the morning of 9/11, Mohammad was taking an elevated subway on his way to work when he saw smoke coming from the twin towers. He got off the train and rushed to the World Trade Center to help. Mohammad was never seen alive again. He was only 23 years old.

At first Mohammad was listed as missing. Because of his Muslim background and lack of connection to the World Trade Center, he came under suspicion of being involved in the attack. The cloud over his name did not lift until his remains were found at Ground Zero in October 2001, along with his medical bag and ID. 

Mohammad Hamdani was buried with full honors from the the New York Police Department, and proclaimed a hero by the city’s police commissioner. He is mentioned in the Patriot Act as an example of Muslim-American valor on 9/11. 

May the memories of these two righteous young men always be for a blessing.

Accidental Talmudist

[evilminji]

Sooooo.....

Like? We can all agree, that, all other factors aside? Given the life he's lived and the personality he has? The sheer NONSENSE he's been exposed too (from rays to oozes to powders to magics etc) AND the by definition unfinishable nature of his Life's Work/Obsession?

If Batman lived in a world connected to Danny Phantom's Zone in any way... he's DEFINITELY becoming a Realms Ghost.

Like? It's not even a "possibly" here. It's an inevitability. He HAS to protect just one more person. HAS to solve one more case. HAS to protect his kids one last time. He HAS Too, HAS Too, HAS Too.

He's Batman.

It's etched into his soul. The man's ghost will literally REFORM in that outfit. Batman with a glow. Batman the protection spirit. Kindness and grief and an eternity of "I have to save just one more."

He's not going to get to die peacefully or rest quietly. It would go against his nature.

But! Why is this relevant? Because of the Elseworld stories. Those AUs. The Multi-Verse at large. They ALL... Have Batman.

Consider: Ember McClain. Rocker. Remember that name. Yes, in some worlds she makes it big. But? Tragedy and betrayal in others. Death. Do you think the Ember's of those worlds are fine with passing on silently? Shrugging and being forgotten just because some other Ember got there first?

No. They are Ember. SHE is Ember.

Just as Clockwork is Time.

What makes a Realms Ghost different then someone like Deadman? Than a Shade? A poltergeist? Your average spook?

They are only themselves.

Singular.

Small.

A tiny little fraction, of a fraction, of a part, of a small bitty droplet, if even that. You only get one soul. But! You share it. There are many "You"s. Like the universe itself, exploding out, to live, to experience, BE, and then collapsing back together in the end. Running together like rainwater in the cracks of Realitys. Seeping back into one piece, one person, in the place between places.

It's why one forgets silly things like Names and Pasts. You had so, so many. All of them were yours. Made you. Shaped you. But are not why you refuse to let go. Why you still EXSIST. Outside of Creation and Rebirth, beyond any gods you could possibly recognize. Refined to your truest SELF.

Yet... you might still be Alive. You know that you ARE. Time exists for the living. To balance beginnings, middles, and ends. Why do you care? They aren't you yet. They will be. All of you will eventually come together. You'll become something... MORE.

Ancient.

The wisdom and complexity of a complete Being. More a Person then your average soul. Like giant stars compared to a barely burning dwarves. You know, assuming you don't give up first. Most give up. It takes a certain sort of patience, after all. A LOT of timeless time. Kinda sucks.

Yet! We consider The Bat. Persistence and Stubborn Hope made manifest. Compassion born of terrible grief. Dead. Again and again and again. Dead for those who needed him. Who hated him. Who cursed or forgot or lamented him. In every imaginable age, a story played out the same. Ending the same.

Himself instead of another.

Himself FOR the others.

Himself because none other could.

Sacrifice and Sacrifice and Sacrifice. Desperation to save. Worlds burning and cities falling. Waking up, reaching out, to shield sons and daughters that are not there. That live because he does not. Dragging himself through the stubborn walls of world after world, like a haunting final curse, upon those who harmed his family, his city. His world.

A wraith. Gothams final curse upon those who damn her.

What must it be like? To keep saying good bye? To drag your aching soul, fuller and fuller of terrible memories, across the fields of jagged glass that are portals you tear, to world's on fire. Just to save friends and family. Enemies and strangers. All of whom, must in the end... bury you anyway.

Because you must kill the hope in their eyes. Must die before them again. Because you can not stay and they can not come with you. Or worse... they can, and will soon.

Sitting on fields of battle where you tried. Gave all your spirit could muster. But... it's over now. And all you can offer is the knowledge is that they should not be afraid. You will carry them home.

And are there? Nightwings and Robins and all manner of other family, waiting back in the Zone? In a Manor where Pennyworth lives eternal? Do they also hurt and fight to save their friends? Each new piece of them coming with some great tragedy that they must put right?

Do they give Walker and the Observants migraines? Probably.

Imagine, though: Time travel added to the mix. Dying in the future. Your son managing to turn everything back to before the world ended. The Ghost King is suddenly a Baby again. Every one is freaking out. "Oh no! The king!" Blah blah blah.

But you and your family are more concerned about the world ending threat that kills a part of you. So is the baby ghost king, when you tell him. You show up in your own Cave, freak yourself out. Team up time. Though you ARE growing concerned by the Baby Kings self-neglectful behaviors. Hey, Me, are you seeing this?

.......he.... you know, he COULD use more Parental Oversight. He's a good kid. Seems lonely though. Underfed. ("BRUCE, NO." "Hmmm.")

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones @the-witchhunter @cyrwrites

[drawnale]

Day 25 "It finally sunk in for Jack and Maddie: no matter how alive he seemed, Danny was actually dead. So they buried him."

I got sick in the begining of the month so I was unable to the whole ectober month as I wanted but I will try to do the last ectober week atleast.

[q-gorgeous]

Grave Green

fanfiction

ao3

word count: 4074

There's a shallow grave in the woods. The only marker is a stone with the name "Danny" scratched into it. Judging by the fresh-turned soil, it hasn't been empty for long. @kinglazrus

hehehehe

Dash wasn’t lost.

No way no how. There was no way he was lost. He was just going on his nightly run and he made a wrong turn and now it was the middle of the night and he couldn't see anything. But he wasn’t lost. He’d be able to find his way back still. 

But the trees blocked the moonlight and he had to move slowly. But moving slowly didn’t help him when he tried to step on empty air and he fell, landing in a patch of turned dirt. 

That was weird. Turned dirt? All the way out here in the middle of the woods?

He sat up and looked around him. Dash’s heart stopped and his eyes widened.

There at the other end of the turned dirt was a headstone with the name Danny on it. He could barely make the name out but he was sure it said Danny.

This couldn’t be Fenton’s grave, could it? Sure, Fenton went missing a month ago but everyone thought he just ran away. He couldn’t have been murdered and buried here, right?

But why was the grave dug out? How long has it been empty?

He heard the sound of a twig breaking behind him and he whipped his head around. 

“Danny?” Dash whispered, horrified.

There he was, covered in dirt and looking at his hands like they weren’t his own. He raised his head to look up at Dash and tears were swimming in his eyes. 

“Dash?” He asked shakily. “What are you doing out here?”

Dash just stared at Danny, at the absurd question. “What am I doing out here? What are you doing out here? You’re covered in dirt and I just fell into your grave!” 

Danny slowly looked back down at his hands. 

“There was an accident. I remember coming out here with my mom.” Danny whispered. “She said we were just going for a walk. That it would help me walk off the shock I got when their portal activated.”

Dash stared at him in horror. 

“I don’t know how she did it, but when we got here there was already an empty grave. She pushed me in and started burying me alive.” His gaze traveled over to stare at dirt he crawled out of. “The headstone is new though.”

“Your mom… Buried you alive?” Dash asked, shaking his hands back and forth.

Danny nodded, still staring at the grave. 

“It’s been a month since you went missing, though. How are you still alive?”

Danny’s gaze made its way back to Dash. “I don’t know. The accident must’ve changed me. Something seemed to scare my mom after I walked out of the portal but she wouldn’t tell me what it was. We came here afterwards.” 

“Your parents are into ghosts right?” Dash asked. “Did their portal kill you? Are you dead?”

Danny went back to studying his hands. “I don’t feel dead. I’m kinda hungry.” 

Dash slowly walked up to him. He hovered a foot away for a moment before he raised a hand up.

“If you’ve got a pulse, you’d still be alive right? Can I see…?”

Danny nodded and Dash put two fingers on Danny’s neck under his jaw. He held his breath and waited for the tell tale thump of a heart beat. He let it out and closed his eyes when he felt it.

“You still have a pulse. Somehow.” Dash pulled away. 

Danny nodded. He seemed tired and he couldn’t stop staring at his hands. Dash sighed.

“Come on. Let’s get you back to my place. We can get you cleaned up and find something to eat.”

Danny nodded again and Dash grabbed one of his hands and pulled it out of his line of sight. Tugging on it, Dash pulled Danny behind him as they started walking. 

“Did your dad know about any of this?” Dash asked softly. He tripped on a rock in the ground and turned to guide Danny around it.

Danny shook his head. “No. It was just me and my mom in the lab when the accident happened. She told me to put my jumpsuit on because we were going to try and fix the portal as a surprise for my dad.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how she thought I was supposed to help if my genius father couldn’t help her figure it out. She sent me inside the portal to take a look but I tripped.” 

Goosebumps rose along Dash’s arms. She sent him into the portal?

“When I braced myself against the wall, I must’ve pressed a button. The portal came to life around me and then I was screaming. When the pain was finally gone, I stumbled out of the portal and my mom had a horrified look on her face. I didn’t know what she saw but a bright light flashed in the lab and then she walked over to me.”

Dash guided them past another tree and finally saw what looked like a path. He started following it. 

“She told me to take my jumpsuit off and that we were going to go for a walk. She said it would help me walk off the shock. But the longer we kept walking, the worse the feeling in my gut got. Before I realized I should run, we were already standing over the grave. And then she pushed me in.” 

“Shit.” Dash whispered.

“Yeah.” Danny’s hand tightened around his. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Let’s just start with getting cleaned up and eating. Then we can talk to my dad.”

Danny’s head shot up and he looked at him. “Your dad? What if he just brings me back to my mom?”

Dash shook his head. “If we tell my dad what happened he’ll probably arrest her for premeditated homicide.”

“Premeditated homicide?” Danny exclaimed. “Why do you think any of that would’ve been premeditated?” 

“Hello? She already had a grave dug out for you? She sent you into the portal?” Dash finally saw the park entrance that he had come in through. He turned back to look at Danny who was staring at his free hand again. Dash could see all the dirt and mud stuck to Danny much clearer now. 

“But…” Danny trailed off. 

Dash sighed and pulled him closer so he wasn’t trailing so far behind him. “Sorry. Let’s get you back to my place.” 

The rest of the walk was short and quiet. Dash could feel Danny’s dazed and disassociating look as he walked beside him. He couldn’t imagine being in Danny’s position. No matter how shitty his own mother was, at least she just left them instead of trying to kill him. 

They finally turned onto the street his house was on. Dash started pulling his keys out of his pocket. He inwardly cringed when he saw the lights in his living room still on. No doubt his dad was still up waiting for him. 

They walked up the stairs to his front door and put his key into the lock and opened the door. 

“Where have you been, young-”

His dad stopped when Dash pulled Danny into the house. He stood there for a few moments studying Danny and the dirt all over him. 

“Where did you find him?” His dad whispered. 

“I got lost on my run.” Dash said, guiding Danny in behind him while he closed the door. “I tripped on the grave he crawled out of while I was trying to find my way back.”

His dad blanched at him. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“I can explain everything to you but can we get him figured out first?” Dash gestured at Danny. “And I don’t think he needs to hear the story he told me again.”

His dad nodded. “Yeah, right. Take him upstairs and find him a change of clothes and get him cleaned up. I’ll make us up some soup.” 

Dash nodded back at him and pulled Danny up the stairs behind him. 

“I’m gonna find some clothes for you to wear first and then we’re gonna head to the bathroom.” Dash said over his shoulder. Danny didn’t respond.

Dash headed to his room and opened his door. He let go of Danny’s hand.

“I’ll be right back.” 

Dash headed to his closet and looked through his t-shirts. They would all be pretty big on Danny but that would be fine. He grabbed the one Nasa shirt he had and headed to his dresser. He struggled to find some sweat pants that would fit Danny but finally found an old pair of his buried at the bottom of one of his drawers. 

He walked back to where Danny stood in the hallway. He was staring at where Pookie sat on the floor, staring back up at him. 

“That’s Pookie.” Dash said. 

Danny nodded. “I remember. I’ve always wanted a puppy.”

Dash smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be able to fill all your puppy needs while you’re here tonight.”

Danny smiled sadly at Pookie but turned to follow Dash to the bathroom. 

“You can sit down on the toilet.” Dash set the new change of clothes on the counter while he rummaged through the cabinet for the first aid kit and a washcloth. He set the first aid kit on the counter and turned the water on. He waited for it to get warm before he soaked the washcloth in water. Sudding it up with soap, he turned to face Danny.

“Are you okay with me cleaning your face and arms off?” Dash asked him. 

Danny looked up at Dash, his expression blank for a moment before he nodded. 

Dash sat down on the edge of the bathtub and started with wiping down Danny’s arms. There was so much dirt and grime. As he washed it off he also found some cuts and scrapes. Danny’s hands were the worst but Dash supposed that’s what happened when you dug your way out of your own grave. 

“I’m just gonna have you wash your hands in the sink when we’re done. That might just be easier than me trying to do it with a washcloth.” He stood up and grabbed a clean washcloth for Danny’s face.

He sat back down and brushed Danny’s hair out of his face. Danny’s blank eyes focused on him. 

Dash held Danny’s head in place by placing a hand on his left cheek. He started by cleaning around Danny’s eyes. Dash moved to his forehead but his eyes stayed closed as Dash cleaned the rest of his face and made his way down his neck. 

“Don’t forget behind the ears.” Danny whispered.

Dash snorted but obliged him.

He threw the second washcloth into the sink and studied Danny’s hair as he opened his eyes back up.

“Wash your hands and take your shirt off. I think we should rinse the dirt out of your hair, even if we don’t actually wash it.”

Danny headed over to the sink and washed his hands while Dash turned the water for the shower on. He tested the water and adjusted it until it felt like a comfortable temperature. Danny finished washing his hands and then took his shirt off and changed into the sweatpants, tossing the soiled clothes on the floor. 

“Lean over the edge of the tub and I’ll rinse your hair out.” Dash said. 

Danny did as he was asked, propping himself up by resting his arms on the tub. Dash rinsed and pulled as much dirt out of his hair as he could before he shut the water off. He grabbed a towel out of one of the cabinets and handed it to Danny.

“Here.” 

Danny slowly dried his hair as Dash opened up the first aid kit. He pulled out the hydrogen peroxide and neosporin. He grabbed yet another washcloth and doused it in hydrogen peroxide. 

Dash turned back to Danny just in time to see him pull the towel off of his head. 

“This will sting a bit.” Dash warned as he started working on cleaning the scrapes on Danny’s hands and arms. He moved up to Danny’s face and cleaned the one scratch that ran across his cheek. 

Dash went to grab the neosporin and started applying that when Danny looked up at him.

“Thank you for doing this. You didn’t have to.”

Dash shrugged. “Even if I didn’t want to, my dad would’ve made me. But I wouldn’t want to leave you all covered in dirt. You don’t deserve that.”

Danny hummed and Dash finally finished cleaning him up and putting bandages on. 

“You can take the spare bedroom. I can bring your food upstairs for you.” 

“Okay.” Danny nodded, pulling his shirt on. He looked down at the floor as Pookie started following them.

Dash opened the door for the spare bedroom and turned on the light. 

“Here you go. Home sweet home for the night. You can get settled in while I go see where the soup is at.” 

Danny nodded again and sat down at the edge of the bed. Pookie jumped up by him and curled up at his side. 

Dash headed back downstairs and found his dad still stirring the soup in the kitchen. He looked up when Dash sat down in a chair at the counter.

“How’s he feeling?” His dad asked.

“He’s pretty out of it. Has been since I suggested that his mom did this to him on purpose.”

Dash’s dad turned to look at him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got to stop explaining things like this. Can you start from the beginning?”

“He said his mom asked him to help her fix some portal they built that didn’t work. That she wanted it to be a surprise for his dad. But she asked him to suit up and sent him inside the thing. He tripped and hit a button and it turned on from the inside.” Dash looked away from his dad. “He got hurt and when he walked out of the portal he thought something scared his mom. She took him on a walk and at the end of it she pushed him into a grave she had ready and waiting and buried him alive.”

His dad’s eyes widened. “She buried him alive? Wasn’t that a month ago that he went missing? How is he here?”

Dash shrugged. “They’re ghost hunters. It’s probably some weird ghost thing. But she even marked the grave with a rock that had Danny’s name on it. He literally dug himself out of his own grave.”

“Goddamn.” His dad whispered. “I can’t decide if this kid has the best or worst luck in the world.”

“Maybe a little bit of both.” Dash joked. His smile fell and he looked at his dad. “Is this enough to arrest her? Or will Danny just have to go home to her?”

His dad shook his head. “I think it would be enough. We just need to find the evidence to prove it. But we can arrest and detain her for questioning. If we believe her to be dangerous we can keep her without bail as well.”

“Okay. When will that happen?” Dash asked.

His dad looked up towards the stairs. “Let’s talk to Danny and get the evidence we need. I think your and Danny’s statements will be enough to arrest her while we search for other evidence down in that lab of theirs.” 

Dash nodded. “Okay. We’ll keep him safe though?”

Dash’s dad looked back at him. “Yeah. We’ll keep him safe.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the portal failed, Maddie knew what was missing. 

It was a portal to the land of the dead. When every calculation they’ve checked, double checked, and triple checked was correct, there was only one thing left that she thought could be the answer.

Opening a portal to the land of the dead required a human sacrifice. 

So one day when Jack and Jazz went to the fudge museum, she asked Danny to help her tackle the problem with the portal. She told him she wanted it to be a surprise for Jack. That she wanted to fix it before he came home so that he’d be greeted with a happy sight.

She made sure to hide her notes and hypothesis somewhere Danny wouldn’t stumble upon them. She asked him to get suited up under the guise of lab safety and she sent him into the portal. 

It happened more naturally than she could’ve ever hoped. As he was walking inside, he tripped over one of the wires that ran across the floor of the portal and fell against the portal wall. He pushed the on button that was on that wall and the portal hummed to life. 

She took in the last image of her son, trying to commit him to memory. 

His screams seared her mind and she tried to block them out. This was for science. This was necessary to further their studies. 

But when the screaming subsided, something she wasn’t expecting happened.

A ghost stepped out of the portal. He looked just like her son except for the fact that all of his colors had inverted. 

And his eyes.

His eyes opened. They were acid green and full of fear and pain. He made eye contact with her. A bright light appeared around his waist and when it traveled over his body and disappeared, her human son was left standing there.

“Mom?” He said. He held his hand close to his chest.

“Danny, come here.” She gestured him towards her. “Let’s get your suit off. Let’s take a look.”

She unzipped his jumpsuit and pulled his arms out of the top and helped him step out of it. A lichtenberg scar ran from his hand that hit the button up his arm. 

He didn’t seem to realize what happened. He didn’t realize he had died. That he was some kind of abomination. 

“Let’s go on a walk, Danny. Let’s walk that shock off.”

“A walk?” He asked groggily, confused. “Shouldn’t we-”

She shook her head. “No. Let’s go on a walk. You seem okay. Let’s just stretch your muscles out.” 

This wasn’t how she planned for this part to go. She expected him to just be a body on the floor that she’d have to take care of. She didn’t expect him to survive that. If you can consider it that. 

As they walked further away from the house and into the park, she could feel Danny getting uneasy behind her. She could tell he didn’t understand why they were just going on a walk. It got worse when they walked into the woods and she walked off the path. 

“Mom? Where are we going?” He asked nervously. 

There it was. Right behind him. The grave. He hasn’t noticed it yet.

She pushed him and a cry pulled itself out of his mouth. He fell into the grave and his back collided with the ground.

“Mom!” He cried. “What are you doing?” 

She tried not to listen to his cries and pleas. He was a monster. He wasn’t really her son anymore. Not the abomination he turned into. 

She pulled a pop out Fenton shovel out of her tool belt and started shoveling dirt into the grave. He tried to sit up so she started aiming for his face and dumping more dirt in faster so he couldn’t sit up anymore. 

Soon he was completely covered and he had stopped struggling against the force of the dirt on him. She found a large stone and placed it at the head of the grave so she could recognize it when she came back.

She cleaned her shovel and folded it back up, storing it in her belt. She brushed the dirt off of her jumpsuit and composed herself before she started making her way back out of the forest. 

Nobody could know what Maddie did. She was protecting them. All of them. She did what had to be done. She couldn’t let a monster like that walk around. 

Jack and Jazz just thought Danny was missing. They thought he ran away or maybe that somebody picked him off the side of the road one day. They didn’t know that he died in their basement when the portal turned on. That she had orchestrated the whole accident. They would never know. 

But when she caught sight of the monster wearing her son’s face, her heart stopped. 

There he was, sat in the middle of their living room, Jazz and Jack doting on him. But standing between her and them was Officer Baxter and his son.

“Mrs. Fenton.” Officer Baxter said as he stepped forward. 

“Oh.. You’ve- you’ve found my son.” She said with a weak smile. “Where has he been all this time?” 

Dash stepped closer in front of Danny. Jazz placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Mrs. Fenton, I need you to turn around.” He pulled a pair of handcuffs off his belt. 

She stared at them before her eyes darted back up to his face. “What- what are those for?”

“You are being arrested for attempted premeditated homicide.”

“I- I don’t- Why would you think I would do that?” She tried to feign shock, but he kept walking towards her. 

“We already have a warrant out for your arrest and another to search your lab for evidence.”

She looked at the monster on her couch and pulled a blaster out of her utility belt. “I don’t know how you survived, ghost scum, but I won’t let you walk around pretending to be my son!” 

She went to take a shot but Jack jumped up and knocked the gun out of her hand. 

“This is our son, Maddie!” He shouted at her. 

“He’s not my son anymore!” She screamed as Officer Baxter knocked her to the ground and forced her into handcuffs. “He’s ghost scum parading around with his face! My son is dead!” 

“You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney-”

“Let go of me!” Maddie screamed as she struggled against the handcuffs. He pulled her off the ground roughly and started walking her to the door. “My son died! He’s dead! That is not my son!” 

That monster looked at her with wide eyes she swore she saw turn green. A single tear streamed down his face. 

“That is not my son!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dash watched as his dad carted Maddie to his car. She was still thrashing against him, screaming in the street. 

“What happened, Danno?” He heard Jack whisper behind him. 

“She did something to me.” Danny whispered. 

Dash turned and saw Jazz and Jack exchange a look between the two of them. Danny was still staring at the front door where his mom had been taken away. 

“What did she do to you?” Jazz asked.

Danny shook his head. “If- if I told you… Would you still love me?”

A sad look crossed onto both Jack and Jazz’s faces. “Of course we would.”

“Mom didn’t.”

“What did she do, Danny?” Jack asked him again.

Danny’s gaze finally lifted and landed on Dash. Dash started a little bit at the expression Danny was giving him.

“You want me to tell them?” Dash asked quietly. Danny nodded. 

Dash took a deep breath. “He told me that Maddie asked him to help with the ghost portal. That he went in and pressed a button and when he came back out she looked horrified. Then she led him out to the woods where she had a grave already dug out.” 

Jazz covered her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. Jack looked horrified. Danny’s eyes were vacant again. 

“I got lost in the woods yesterday and tripped over his empty grave.” Dash looked away from them and at the floor. “He somehow lasted a whole month buried out there. He had just crawled out of the grave not too long before I got there.” 

Danny had started shaking and Jack shushed him. Jazz wrapped her arms around him in a hug. 

“It’s okay.” Jack said. “You’re safe now. You’re back home.” Jack turned to look back up at Dash. 

“Thank you. Thank you for bringing him home to us.” 

Dash nodded. He was about to turn away when something caught his eye. 

Dash saw Danny’s eyes flash an unsettling green. 

What if his mom had been right?

[luxaofhesperides]

"I see you, and I love you" + hurt/comfort ; requested by @oops-i-dropped-the-galaxy!

Danny can handle being a halfa. He’s had years to get used to it, switching between dead and alive, living boy and ghost, always living in flux. He’s settled into his identity as one of the few halfas in existence, navigating the living world and the Infinite Realms with ease after years of practice.

What he can’t handle is becoming an Ancient.

Apparently, while most Ancients are born into the role, ruling over their domain, some can grow into it. It’s rare, practically unheard of, but not impossible.

Danny is growing into the Ancient of Stars, changed from the inside out by his love of space. 

He would be happy if it didn’t hurt so much.

Danny can’t sleep at night anymore. When the stars are out, he can hear them singing, each windchime voice echoing through his ears. Though he can’t see them from beneath Gotham’s cloud cover, he can feel them shining brightly far above him. 

He lays in bed with Duke, curled up in his side, trying to muffle his whimpers as his bones creak and hollow, his soul growing too large for his body to handle. He is space contained in a human body. It wants to be free, to stretch from its suffocating confines and fill every dark space with cold light. His skin feels too tight and his teeth ache. 

All Danny can do is clench his jaw, wrap his arms around his stomach as tightly as he can, and try to weather through the pain of changing.

The agony of it comes in waves. He doesn’t know how long it takes until it recedes enough for him to feel like he can breathe again, trying to suck air in as his lungs are crushed by his ribcage. Slowly, Danny pushes himself up, taking care not to wake Duke, and stumbles out of bed. His throat is dry and feels as if its been scraped raw by sandpaper, and all he wants is water.

He gets halfway down the hall when the next wave hits.

Danny collapses, gasping for breath, and can only watch through tear-filled eyes as his fingers go dark, the same black as deep space. His body shifts, bones cracking and muscles stretching like taffy, and suddenly he’s big larger than life a galaxy a black hole there is darkness everywhere it is alive it is full of stars the stars are singing the stars are singing the stars are si

“Danny? Hey, sweetheart, are you okay?”

That’s Duke’s voice. He’d recognize it anywhere, even from miles away, even when he’s sure he doesn’t have ears anymore. It takes all his effort to pull himself back to Earth, back into their apartment, blinking up at Duke as the stars in his eyes fade away. 

Duke kneels before him, concern clear on his face, gentle hands reaching out to hold Danny steady. The feel of his warmth grounds him, keeps him more securely in his body. The pull of space is still there, tugging at him, trying to pull him out of humanity and into the form of an Ancient, but Danny can resist it so long as Duke keeps him tethered to the ground.

“It hurts,” he croaks, shivering.

“Shh, I know, baby. How can I help? What do you need?”

Danny leans forward, burying his face in Duke’s chest as tears slip out of his eyes. “It hurts,” he says again, voice shaking. “I keep changing and growing and my entire body is being torn apart and—” he gasps, cutting himself off. “I keep disappearing. I don’t want to disappear. I want to stay here but it takes me away and then I’m too big and no one can see me and I’m alone—”

“You’re not alone, Danny,” Duke says, holding him tightly as if his arms will be enough to keep Danny from breaking out of his own body, ridding himself of a mortal vessel, his only remaining tie to this world. “I see you, and I love you. Even if you have to change and go far away to be happy, I’ll find a way to follow you there, okay? I’m with you for as long as you want me.”

“I don’t want to hurt so much,” Danny whimpers, black fingers speckled with stardust clawing at Duke’s arms. 

“Just breathe through it, sweetheart, you can do it. Let it pass through you. I got you, okay? Just let the pain pass and you’ll be fine.”

He wants to snap at Duke that it’s not fine, that the pain will be forever, it’ll linger in every one of his joints, that he can’t just stop fighting it because it’ll hurt even worse then. But his jaws are aching, his teeth sharpening, and there’s a black hole in his throat that he refuses to let loose. He lets out another pained whine, shivering, and in his chest a star is formed, burning bright and angry.

“Breathe, Danny, breathe,” Duke soothes, rubbing a hand up and down Danny’s back.

It’s habit to relax into his touch. They’ve spent so many nights working through night terrors and injuries, comforting each other through gentle touches. The pain eases a bit, and Danny sighs, frost on his breath. 

“There we go, sweetheart, that’s it. You’re doing just fine.”

Another tear slips down his face, but the ache in his entire body as his growing ghost form tries to escape begins to fade. 

He’s spent so many nights in pain, waiting for the sun to rise to muffle the singing of the stars. If he can get any relief, he’ll take it, even if it means losing his human form.

Danny stops fighting. His resistance to this change falls away. There’s a moment where the pain disappears entirely, the world going still, but before he can let out a relieved sigh, the change hits him like an asteroid, sudden and instant and inevitable.

A cry is ripped from his throat, but it doesn’t sound like him. It echoes, deep and inhuman, and suddenly Danny is every dark space surrounding the stars, the arms of every galaxy, suns burning bright and dying, supernova, cold and ice and the slow drifting of planets in orbit. His body grows, expands, no longer a ghost but an Ancient, body curling into itself to stay within the walls of the too small apartment, large hands cupped around Duke to keep him safe. 

He can feel the cold of space. Orbits dance in his mind. Meteorites and asteroids drift without pattern across his chest. Danny can see everything with too many eyes, and he can cup planets in his palms, so much larger than possibility. His chest opens and expands and his body can curl around Earth and keep it safe. 

He feels settled in this new body, senses stretched in every direction and the universe is so much lovelier than he could have ever experienced it in a halfa’s body. 

Danny, Ancient of the Stars, hums and the universe shivers, singing back to him.

The pain is gone completely. He wonders why he resisted so hard; this is what he’s meant to be. He’s never felt so right before.

“Danny?”

Duke’s voice is small, but only because he is small when compared to Danny in his Ancient form. 

Duke, he tries to say but his vocal chords have changed. Instead of words, a deep hum erupts from his throat, similar to the purr of a particularly large cat. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Feeling better?”

Danny nods, pulling himself back together to feel his body more keenly, no longer stretched across the universe, cradling every star in his reach. Duke reaches a hand up and Danny reaches back, folding himself back into his body. His human eyes return and he realizes the apartment is completely covered in darkness with stars sparkling all around them. It recedes as he fits himself back into his body, the black on his fingers fading away until his hand is indistinguishable from a normal human’s. 

He takes hold of Duke’s hand and tries to stand. His legs are weak and unsteady and he falls onto Duke, who catches him with ease and sweeps him up into a princess carry. 

“There you are, honey,” Duke says, voice warm and relieved. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I feel a lot better.”

“Good. Do you need anything? Hot chocolate, heating pad, sleep?”

Danny thinks for a moment, then says, “Hot chocolate.”

“You got it. Let me just set you on the couch and I’ll have it out in a minute.”

He carefully sets Danny onto the couch, then tucks the blanket they keep folded over the back around him. Once he’s satisfied Danny is comfortable, Duke heads to the kitchen, flicking on the light as he does. 

Danny sinks into the couch cushions, carefully moving all his fingers and toes to make sure they’re fine. He’s a little sore, as if all his bones where put through the ringer, but it doesn’t feel any different from when he has a particularly rough training day. 

What’s more important that his physical body is the fact that he can feel his core, settled deep in his chest. It’s no longer the cold of ice, but it burns coldness, a white star embodying his soul, a changed core to reflect his transformation into an Ancient. 

A baby Ancient, technically. He still has some growing to do, but the rest should be easier and, hopefully, less painful.

He closes his eyes and begins to drift off when he hears Duke return. It takes some effort to open his eyes, and his smiles softly and sleepily when he sees Duke set down two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“Love you,” he mumbles, freeing a hand from the blanket to try to pull Duke down to join him.

Duke goes to him easily, sitting next to him and pulling Danny in to cuddle against him. It’s been so long since he last felt so comfortable at night, not writhing in pain and biting through his lip to keep quiet, that he can’t help but sink into it. A purr starts up in his chest, and Duke startles.

“Sweetheart, are you purring?”

Danny flushes and tries to hide his face. The purr doesn’t stop. He’s always been able to purr after becoming a halfa, though purr is just an easier way to describe it. It’s less of his vocal chords vibrating and more of his core rumbling in contentment. Usually, it’s unnoticeable, barely able to be felt let alone heard. Apparently, becoming an Ancient and therefore a much stronger ghost means his purrs are also stronger and louder.

“You’re so cute,” Duke says, pressing a kiss against Danny’s forehead. “Drink your hot chocolate, and then we can go back to sleep.”

He makes grabby hands at his mug, and Duke laughs and picks it up for him.

“Love you,” Danny repeats, voice less muffled.

“Love you, too,” Duke says. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“I’m glad you were there to help me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“It’s a good thing you’ll never have to find out. I’ve got you, sweetheart, always.”

Believing him is the easiest thing Danny has ever done. If Duke says he’ll be there for, then he will. 

Always, always, always.

. . .

[send me ghostlights prompts!]

[wolfjackle-creates]

I'll Carry Your Heart with Me (Until I Find You Again): Part 3

And this is the third and final part of my hundred follower celebratory writing. The fic will continue past this, but it will be a while before I can return to it. I want to get back to Ghost!Robin and Bring Me Home first. This was a blast to write, though.

The angst starts here. Parts 1 and 2 were fun and fluffy. But things take a turn here. And it'll be quite a while before our boys can get back to happier times.

Mostly Jason POV with a short section from Danny's.

3.8k words. There wasn't a great place to break it up.

First, Previous

----------

Jason sighed as Danny flew out of his range of awareness, leaving him alone in his lair again. Though… he touched his lips which still tingled with cold and smiled to himself. At least this time he was left with some pleasant memories.

Turning his back to the swirling void, he entered the brick building that housed the most important parts of his home from before. Ignoring the kitchen, he walked through a door and into his bedroom. It was the only place he had yet to show Danny.

Though maybe he should change that?

He flopped down on his bed and touched his lips again before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. God, he felt like a teenage girl. Was this why Dick liked to meet up with girls? Jason had kissed girls a few times before, but with Danny… It just felt so much better.

Maybe it was because his mouth was cool? Kissing him felt like a drink of fresh spring water on a hot day. Or perhaps it was the way they could project their feelings while kissing. And not needing to breathe was definitely nice.

He sighed and moved until he was staring up at the ceiling. How in all the realms was Danny interested in him? A dumb kid who got in over his head and died because of it.

Danny was still alive, too. With a sigh, he pushed himself up. He didn’t want his thoughts to go this way—he wanted to bask in their first kisses some more.

Would Danny get too old for him?

Alfred would have been able to set him right. Let him know if this was doomed from the start or if he might actually have something. And Dick… Well, first he’d tease. But after. They’d go to the gym and when he was tired out and sweaty, they’d go and get milkshakes or something and Dick would give surprisingly helpful advice. The type he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask Alfred or Bruce.

Bruce would be insufferable, of course. He’d insist on researching everything he could about Danny. Would probably stalk him, too. But after he was convinced Danny wasn’t trying to take advantage, he’d tell Jason to invite him for dinner. He thought they’d probably get along, too. While their personalities were quite different, their morals were a perfect match.

But no. He’d never get any of that. Because he had to be an idiot and die.

Though… did death have to be permanent? Danny had come back after all. And hadn’t several members of the Justice League died at one point before returning to life?

Could he do that?

Restless now, he got out of bed and made his way to the gym. These were the types of thoughts that only made sense when he was doing something physical. One routine in particular was his “thinking routine.” His dad would always call Alfred in if he saw Jason doing this one. How would he be able to come back?

Most of the stories he heard required something happen to the body on Earth. But he didn’t have that option. He was limited to the Infinite Realms. But… these lands were infinite. There had to be someone or something here that could help him. Maybe there’d be some information in Ghost Writer’s lair? What other ghosts had Danny told him about?

And then he remembered: Desiree. He froze, leg in the air as he was halfway through a kick. If he’d still been human, he would’ve fallen on his face.

Desiree had been able to rewrite reality so that Danny and Sam had never met. In doing so, she’d erased his death from ever happening. If she could do that, bringing Jason back from the dead would have to be a piece of cake. So long as he phrased his wish correctly.

Now that he had a new mission, he fell out of his fighting stance and made his way to the library. He had a wish with a genie to craft.

-----

With how time never seemed to work right in the Realms, Jason wasn’t sure how long it took him to craft his wish. But he finally had it. And this one shouldn’t backfire on him.

I wish I was alive again with a healthy body and intact mind.

Though he did continue trying to think it through. Would it be possible to twist this one? If it was, Desiree would find away. At least if Danny’s stories could be believed. And Ember and Kitty insisted that Danny downplayed his stories more than anything.

Which was hard to believe, even as a former Robin.

Now he had to find Desiree. And as much as he wracked his brain, he didn’t think Danny had given him any sort of clue as to where her lair might be located. And he didn’t want to just ask someone straight out. They’d try and dissuade him from going. Even worse since the only ghosts he really knew were ones Danny introduced him to. Apparently it was normal for a ghost to not leave their lair much for the first few years after death, so he hadn’t yet done much exploring of the Realms.

Though Danny had once tried to sketch him a vague map. Apparently things in the Realms had a tendency to move around a lot, but clusters did form among people of similar background. Medieval European ghosts clustered together in one area, Kryptonians could be found somewhere else, and so on.

Now, where did the ghosts from the Middle East gather? He looked over the map Danny had given him and chewed his lip as he tried to figure out where things were in relation to him. No sun or cardinal directions made it so much harder to orient anything. Which was probably the point.

But he did have some anchors to recognize. After being to Ghost Writer’s domain, he could find that again. And he’d once gone to visit Kitty and Johnny with Danny. So that was another point of reference.

Finally, he thought he had at least enough of an idea to get close. It would have to do, though Bruce would have insisted on more research.

But Bruce wasn’t here which was the entire point.

Well, that and he didn’t want Danny to get older and not want to date or kiss him anymore. It’d be fine for a few years, but what about when Danny was twenty or forty or whatever and Jason was still the same fifteen year old kid?

He shook his head. That didn’t matter because he’d be able to grow up, too. Dick would be there to tease him about his boyfriend. And Alfred would give him a hug and his favorite meal. And Bruce would help him finish school and get into a good college and would celebrate every passing grade with him.

With those pleasant thoughts, he exited his lair. He gave it one last look before setting off in the direction he believed would lead him to Desiree.

He hadn’t been traveling very long when he approached a lair who’s ghost was sending off such strong stay-away vibes that Jason was forced to go around. Putting him quite far off course. The ghost must have been strong to control such a large area of the Zone.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to reorient himself to get back on track.

Which is when he heard a menacing chuckle from behind him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the whelp’s friend. You’d make such good bait. With you at the center of my trap, I may actually catch the boy and finally get his pelt for my wall.”

Jason spun, Robin costume appearing as he did. Behind him, his cape flared. “And you must be Skulker. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m sure you have.” Although his face was just a mecha suit, it grinned viciously. “But you will not find me so easy to escape.” Compartments on Skulker’s shoulders opened and a flurry of small missiles flew out at him.

A wave of Jason’s hand brought up a shield that easily deflected the projectiles. He turned invisible and quickly changed position, sending his own ectoblasts back at Skulker. After months of sparing with Danny, he knew how to handle himself in a ghost fight. He could even hold his own against Johnny when he came to visit.

Of course, fighting with Skulker was not on the agenda for today. He just wanted to get to Desiree.

“Can’t you see that I have better things to do today? Go bug Ember or something!” shouted Jason.

The only response he got was another missile sent his way. Only this one tracked him. Reaching into his core, Jason sent out a burst of flame, exploding it before it could get too close. There had to be something he could do to end this battle sooner rather than later.

At the very least, he could get some distance between himself and Skulker. He retreated a bit, wishing that the Realms had more cover instead of being mostly open void.

And then he felt it. The stay-away feeling from the lair he’d avoided earlier. Skulker shouted something else, though Jason didn’t bother to pay attention to the words. Instead, he made his way closer to the lair. To his satisfaction, Skulker followed.

It wouldn’t do to project his own presence, so Jason pulled in on his power, keeping it coiled tightly around his core. He focused hard on not projecting any emotions. Danny taught him how to hide his presence from other ghosts in order to prank Dani who had tagged along to visit.

Now, to make Skulker really mad. Jason turned to face his attacker and stuck out his tongue and waved his hands next to his head. “Na, na, na, na, na, na!” he called.

“Whelp!” roared the other ghost as he pulled out a huge bazooka and shot several blasts.

Jason immediately turned invisible and pulled his aura in even tighter, flying away from his position as fast as possible.

Not even a moment later, a loud booming voice called out, “Who disturbs my peace?”

Jason didn’t wait to see what sort of ghost it was, he just focused on escaping. After who-knows-how-long flying, he slowed down and looked around. He couldn’t see Skulker anywhere. More cautiously, he let his aura expand again. There were some ghosts around, but none of them felt aggressive or seemed to pay him any mind.

Now he had to figure out where he was and how far off course he’d gotten. Looking around, the doors and buildings he could see all looked old. Stone walls and thatched roofs. Weathered wooden doors. So he was in the territory of older ghosts. Excellent. Though the architecture definitely looked more European than Middle Eastern.

He pushed on. No way was he going to turn back now.

After passing who knows how many lairs, he stopped for a moment to try and get his bearings. Obviously just continuing on was not going to work.

“Thine garb is unlike any I have seen,” commented a voice from behind him.

Jason spun and came face-to-face with an elderly woman who he couldn’t help but describe as matronly. Her dress was extremely old and she had a head wrap, though wisps of shadow instead of hair were just visible under the fabric.

“No, ma’am. I’m just passing through.”

“A pilgrimage? Where dost thou go?”

“I… yeah. I’m on a pilgrimage. I’m trying to find the Middle Eastern ghosts. Er… Constantinople? The Ottoman Empire?” He had no ideas what the countries would have been called back when this woman had been alive and hoped he got wasn’t completely off. “In life, I had some teachers from that area and I wanted to see if I could learn more in death.”

She nodded in understanding. “Much can be learned in death that life left no time for. But thou hast been turned around. Thine destination is not in this direction.”

“Can you direct me?”

She smiled. “Certainly.”

Though once she started explaining the path, Jason sent out a few curses to the ancients. Why couldn’t things stay still in the Realms? From their current position, he was supposed to go down until he came to a lair which was a stone tower that flew red flags. Then he had to spin in a circle clockwise five times. When he stopped, he might be facing Queen Dora’s city. In that case, he had to fly in the opposite direction.

But he might also end up facing a fortress made of black stones and guarded by skeletons. If that happened, he should go left. If he found himself facing a forest with a waterfall, he should continue straight past it.

And for each option, another half dozen instructions followed. Thank the ancients Bruce had tested him on memorizing complicated directions constantly as Robin. He wasn’t sure how else he would have found the way.

“Thank you,” he said once she had finished.

“May thine journey bring thee peace.” And she was gone.

Jason repeated her instructions, going straight down until he saw the tower with the red flags. He spun. And found himself facing a medieval European city with a black and purple dragon flying in circles over it. On her head was a golden crown: Queen Dora. He turned his back to the city and flew in the opposite direction.

It took so long to come across the next landmark he was told to look out for that he was afraid he had done something wrong. But he had no other guide, so he kept going.

And eventually he found it. And the next one. And the one after that.

And finally, he noticed a change in the architecture. The towers became more graceful. The materials they were made of changed.

“Desiree!” he called.

No one answered. He kept going.

Every so often he would call her name. He let his aura spread to see if he could sense any powerful ghosts. The few ghosts that were around disappeared as soon as they heard her name leave his mouth.

For the first time, he started to wonder if this was a bad idea.

Just when he was about to give it up and turn around, a presence made itself known.

Amusement, curiosity, entertainment surrounded him.

The mix of emotions sent a jolt of fear up his spine. It felt so similar to how The Joker would laugh when he got them in a trap. How he laughed when he laid that last trap; the glee he projected as he smashed Jason’s bones with a crowbar.

“Who calls me?” echoed a woman’s voice in the void around him.

Jason forced his back to remain straight as he faced the direction he could sense the presence in. “My name is Jason! Jason Todd and I have a wish.”

Smoke gathered before him forming into a giant woman with long black hair and bright green skin. She smiled at him; it sent shivers down Jason’s spine. “Lucky for you, wishes are my domain. What do you wish for, Jason Todd?”

If he still had a heart, it would be beating fast in his chest. As it was, he was glad he didn’t have to breathe. Far easier to hide how much he was starting to regret this journey.

But no. He needed to do this. All his reasons for being here still existed. It was far too late to turn back now. “I wish I was alive again with a healthy body and mind intact.”

“So you have wished it, so shall it be!” Desiree waved her hands and Jason was surrounded in a wave of power. It twined around him. He was spinning and wind tore at his clothes. He slammed his eyes shut as laughter echoed in the tornado. He curled up, trying to protect himself from the unrelenting power.

And then everything was silent. It was dark and he was lying on his back. He pushed up and yelped when his head hit something hard right above his head. Where was he? What was going on? He banged on the top of the box he was in.

He needed out. He pushed and screamed. Something shifted and he pushed harder. It was cold, why was it so cold? Something broke above his head and he coughed as dust fell into his mouth. He closed his eyes and mouth tight and kept pushing. The surface gave. It poured down on him, but he pushed his way up.

Nothing could keep him trapped. Never again. When had he been trapped before? Where was he? He pushed through and his hand reached the other side of whatever he’d been trapped in. He pushed more. His other hand was free. He grasped and pulled himself free.

And finally he could breathe. And see. Someone was supposed to be here. Where were they? Why hadn’t they come for him? He needed to find them. They were here. They had to be. They wouldn’t have abandoned him. Not again.

Where were they? Where Were They?!

He pulled himself up. He stumbled. He kept going. He had to find them. The person, people?, who were supposed to be here. Why weren’t they here?

He took one step after another. They were nearby. A person! Right ahead! Was that them? No. It wasn’t. They were wrong! Why were they here? He pushed them away. They weren’t supposed to be here. They weren’t the right person. He kept going.

But everyone he found was not right. Why weren’t they right? Where were they?

The world got brighter. More people came out. They still weren’t right. It got dark. Where was he? Why was everything wrong?

Another wrong person. He tried to punch them. Only this time, his fist didn’t connect. They said something. The voice was wrong. He tried to kick, but that was stopped to. More people surrounded him.

His arms were pinned back. Then his legs. He couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? He tried to scream. Something was shoved in his mouth. He couldn’t scream. He struggled. He needed to get free. He needed to find the right person. Where were they? Where were they?

The world went black. When it lightened again, he saw a pool of green.

Green was safe. Green meant home and peace and an end to the fighting and the fear and the pain. He struggled, needing to get to it. But he couldn’t move his arms and his legs. And people were touching him. Surrounding him. Still the wrong people.

He thrashed and tried to scream. He wanted the right people. And suddenly he could move again. The people ran away from him. But that was fine. He didn’t want them near him. His legs hurt. And walking felt strange. But he stumbled forward. He needed to get to the green.

He sunk down deep and let the green take over. He breathed it in and everything made sense. This was right. This was home. The woman who brought him here was the right person. She was green and green was peace.

But when the green faded, all he saw was red. Red all over his hands and his arms and his clothes.

And he was so, so cold.

-----

Less than a week after their date (yes Jazz, he could admit it was a date now) at Ghost Writer’s lair, Danny returned to spend more time with his boyfriend. His boyfriend.

Only… when he got there, Jason’s lair was empty and abandoned. The island was entirely gone, leaving just the door. When he opened it, a layer of dust covered everything. The kitchen was filled with moldy food. Water overflowed the blocked sink. He floated above the floor, not wanting to step in the mess. What had happened? Where was Jason? The library. He had to be there. His hand shook as he turned the doorknob.

The mess in the library was almost worse. All the books had been knocked off their shelves and lay haphazardly all over the floor—spines broken and pages torn and bent. Jason hated damaging a book.

“No. No,” he whispered. This wasn’t real. A ghost’s lair reflected their state of being. Jason was okay. He had to be.

He backed out of the library. The gym. Jason always went there when he was upset. Only the gym was empty, too. It was in just as awful of shape. The punching bag had been split and it’s sand spilled over the floor. The weights were tossed about, the floor cracked under where they’d fallen.

There was only one more room. The only room Danny had never been in before.

With shaking hands, he opened the door to Jason’s bedroom. Clothes were strewn around the floor, torn and dirty. The bed was messy, but something was glowing under the covers.

He let himself land on the floor. He needed the connection to the world. Nothing felt real. The clothes piled on the floor meant his footsteps were silent, though his breaths echoed loud in his ears. It seemed to take forever to reach the bed.

His hand shook as he reached for the blankets and pulled them back one by one. Under the last one he saw what looked like a smoldering, black coal.

Jason’s core.

“No.”

Danny instinctively took a step back. That couldn’t be Jason. It couldn’t. He didn’t know how long he stared at the burning coal. He had to move. He stepped forward again and sunk to his knees by the bed. He reached forward and gently touched the core. It was barely warm to his touch.

It should have been an inferno. Jason burned so brightly. His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He fell the rest of the way down, face pressed into the dirty, dusty sheets. He flared his aura.

The core felt like Jason. It was him.

Danny pushed himself up enough to cradle it gently in his hands. How could Jason be so small? He held him to his chest and curled around him. Whatever happened, he’d make it better. He’d find out who had hurt Jason and he’d make them pay.

His eyes burned and the world grew blurry as he cried, curled around Jason’s comatose form.

-----

Next

So, don't @ me about the "intact mind" thing. I will address that later in the fic. I promise it's not a plot hole!

Tag List

@britcision, @echoednonny, @adorablechaos, @letoasai, @saphjack, @emergentpanda-blog

[too-much-tma-stuff]

No Body to Bury

This is a full dead spin off of another one shot I read about Danny being given flowers for his grave by a child.

-------

The Justice League had been working with Phantom for a while now, not consistently, but he showed up when they were dealing with something ~spooky~, and he’d given them a way to contact him. They called him in to consult, or to back them up sometimes because he was a bit of a power-house. At first they had thought the name was part of his shtick, after all his powers were ghostly enough and there was something satisfying about having a theme.

They had started to suspect something when the child citizen had given him flowers for his grave, and his delighted reaction. It could have just been a kid happy to get a gift, but it wasn’t, it was clearly more then that and Batman had had a flashback to one of Constantine’s crash course lesson’s on supernatural, the one on ghosts. Graves were very important to them, as were morning gifts like flowers and candles, whatever was culturally appropriate.

None of them knew where Phantom’s grave was, Batman had tried to find it, to find anything about the ghosts life and death, but there wasn’t much. Not before he became a hero in Amity park, so he could maybe guess that the other had died in Amity (if he had died), but there was no deaths that matched up with his appearance. The closest thing was a boy named Danny but he had gone missing years after Phantom showed up, and he’d never been declared dead officially. More was impossible to find, even after the GIW had been disbanded the information they had destroyed about the town couldn’t all be retrieved.

Since Batman didn’t know where Phantom’s grave was he couldn’t leave flowers on it directly which meant he had to actually give them to the ghost boy. It was a bit uncomfortable the first few times, and his kids made fun of him for being emotionally repressed but… it made Phantom so happy, and brought him closer and closer to Batman. He had already started to see Phantom as one of his kids, even if he knew he’d never get the ghost to come back to the manor. The gifts helped, he found that Phantom also liked to receive food, he even picked at it sometimes even though it seemed he didn’t need to eat. Sharing meals with him was a good excuse to actually talk some though, Batman would listen and eat his own food as Phantom picked at his and rambled about space, about recent fights he’d been in, and people he’d met.

Through all that Batman managed to learn more about the young hero, about what he valued, and what he did when he wasn’t being a hero. Apparently he spent a lot of time off world but exploring rather then being a hero to the galaxy. Batman had a feeling superman would be upset by that, that Phantom could be doing more good then he was and was choosing not to. But the ghost was clearly still a kid, or at least had been when he died, and he was plenty heroic, he didn’t need to be dealing with universal threats at maximum sixteen years old, Batman felt bad calling him in for the planetary threats, but sometimes it was unavoidable.

As they got closer Phantom started to let other things slip, that he’d had a sister, and a couple of close friends that he still watched over when he could. When Batman had asked if those people knew he was dead Phantom had fallen silent for a full minute and then changed the subject entirely, Batman hadn’t pushed it that time. If he had Phantom would have retreated, but as it was they kept having lunch together, and the boy let more and more slip. Including more stories about those friend he must have had while he was alive, it was during one of those that he let his name slip.

“So my sister said to me, ‘Danny you should-‘” his mind seemed to catch up with his mouth and he froze, Batman was still too but when Phantom started to fade from view he spoke up.

“Phantom, wait, why don’t we leave the tower and go somewhere private. We can talk secret identities, I’ll tell you mine too,” Batman promised, he thought it was the best way to make Danny feel better, besides he did trust Phantom.

Danny hesitated before fading back into full visibility and nodding, “Alright,” He agreed, looking very young and vulnerable. “Do you mind if I fly us down to earth? I’ll keep you safe from space,” He asked and Batman nodded, letting Danny grab his arms and phase them through the building and out. Danny flue quickly back down to the earth, the side facing away from the sun so it was the middle of the night, putting Batman down in the middle of an abandoned park, landing as well and going to sit on the swing set.

Batman followed, sitting down next to the young hero and trying hard not to think about Ace, another talented and powerful person who went through to much and died to young. Once he was sat down Bruce sighed and took off his cowl, showing his face to the other young hero. “I’m Bruce Wayne,” He said with a wry smile when he saw familiar recognition cross over Danny’s face.

“No way, that makes so much sense,” Danny cackled, which wasn’t the reaction Bruce was expecting. He’d ask about that later, instead he just gestured for Danny to introduce himself next.

“Danny Fenton,” the kid introduced, holding out his hand with an impish little smile. Bruce chuckled and shook it as if this was the first time they’d met instead of having known each other for nearly a year.

“I know that name,” Bruce hummed thoughtfully, back peddling a little when Danny tensed. “Sorry, worlds greatest detective and all, I did a bit of research on Amity Park when you joined us to see if I could track you down. I had ruled that out because your civilian identity didn’t go missing for two years until after you showed up as Phantom. Does that mean you’re not, well, dead?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck at the awkward question.

“Oh, no, I’m very dead,” Danny said with a bitter chuckle, pushing himself to rock on the swing a little. “But I didn’t die for a couple of years after I got my powers, not fully. I don’t think most people understand what it’s like to die twice,” He said, looking down, already pale hands going white around the knuckles with how tight he was holding the chains.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Batman said softly, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. “But if you want to talk, I’ll listen, and I won’t break your confidence,” Bruce assured, they sat quietly for a few more minutes before Danny sighed and looked away.

“My parents were.. well probably best classed as mad-scientists. I loved them and they loved me but they were obsessed with ghosts and with discovery, it was always a tossup which was more important. I would join them in their lab to get their attention, and it was often my job to clean up after them. I ended up being micro-dosed on this stuff they called ectoplasm a lot which probably helped when the accident happened. My parents were trying to build a portal to the ‘ghost-zone’, what Constantine calls the infinite realms. It didn’t work at first, not till I stepped inside it, then it opened and it electrocuted me at the same time as flooding me with that weird glowing green ooze. It killed me and resurrected me simultaneously but not properly.

“Instead of actually bringing me back to life it bound my ghost back to my own body so I became the ghost possessing myself. That’s when I started working as a hero, while I was still partially alive.” He paused, swinging for a moment while Bruce stayed quiet and still, trying not to think about what Danny’s homelife must have been life, or how much it must have hurt to be killed like that.

“After a while the GIW showed up, they tried to catch me, but my parents had been trying to catch or destroy me as phantom for years. The GIW weren’t nearly as competent as the Red Huntress, so I avoided and ignored them. But I started to take it for granted and dismiss them, I didn’t pay enough attention, and they finally got the drop on me. I don’t want to talk about everything they did to me, but it was bad, and it was to much for my human half,” Danny stopped again and bit his lip, there was a hitch in his breathing that told Bruce exactly why Danny was hiding his eyes.

“Danny died, but it turned out that being half human was sort of holding back what I was capable of as a ghost,” He snickered with a little bit of bitter, vicious glee. “They couldn’t hold me anymore, all their little devices got left on my corpse when they forced me out and I destroyed the lab. After that I just… couldn’t go back to my life, it’s not natural. I died, they need to grieve me. That’s- that’s how it works.”

“And did they? Did you… get a burial?” Bruce asked, because he hadn’t seen anything about it in the news. His fear was confirmed when Danny took a deep breath and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t leave my body in the wreckage. I was worried… scratch that, I knew my parents would cremate me to try and keep me from coming back as a ghost, because they didn’t know I already was one. And that would weaken my connection to this world. I need to protect people, it’s half my purpose, I need a connection to this world.”

“Where did you hide it?” Batman asked, his breath catching when he saw Danny’s eyes flash a dangerous red.

“Why do you want to know?” He growled, bearing teeth that were sharper then they usually were. “You gonna give it back to my family for ~closure~? Destroy it yourself to curtail my power? I know Constantine is scared of me, he’d like that.”

Bruce immediately held his hands up in a placating gesture, of course Danny would be protective of his body. “No nothing like that Danny, I promise,” He said quickly. “But I just remember from what I’ve been told about ghosts, having a grave is important and, if you wanted, I would like to see you get a proper burial. It’s your body, you should get to control what happens to it but if you wanted a grave, a funeral, we have a protected graveyard for fallen heros. You’d fit right in,” He said with a uncertain smile.

Danny relaxed slowly, his eyes going back to green and his expression turning contemplative, looking back down as he thought about the offer. “Maybe… maybe,” He murmured. “It would be nice to have a grave, I’ve been leaving the flowers near my body in the ghost zone but… it would be nice to have a grave. I can feel the longing, the instinct. It feels bad to not have… have that, have something.

“But… I am scared. Would you be willing to- if you do an empty coffin funeral and burial for me, I’ll put my body in it, once the coffin is in the protected ground I can phase my body into it?” He asked, looking up at Batman worriedly and it was so obvious Danny was just a kid, a neglected boy who had been unlucky enough to die violently twice.

“Of course Danny, however you feel most comfortable,” Batman assured. Watching as Danny took a deep breath, more out of habit then anything, then nodded firmly.

“Then, I would like that. I know I am still here in a way so it feels weird having a funeral for me but, I still died, and I’d like to be remembered.” He murmured uncertainly.

“Of course, I understand. We didn’t get rid of my son’s grave when he came back because he still died. Being brought back, in any way, doesn’t really undo that,” Bruce sympathized, finally getting a small smile from Danny.

“Thank you Bruce, you’re a good guy. Now… do you need a lift back to the watchtower?”

“Yes please,” Bruce agreed with a sigh, finally standing up and pulling his hood back on. He had a funeral to plan.

"When we do have the funeral, can you ask your son to come? I'd like to meet him," Danny asked and Batman hummed, not sure how to explain the complicated relationship he had with Jason now.

"I'll try," He agreed, that was the best he could do really.

Part 2: here

[little-pondhead]

The Folly of Men -

Chapter 1: #355E3B

AO3 - MASTERPOST

[GENERAL TW: Swearing, lukewarm violence, lots of POV changes, and mild body horror.]

[Fair warning, guys: Canon is a ball pit, and I’m throwing a baby into it. I have no clue what's happening. Feel free to point out mistakes!]

-

Danny was starting to hate the color green. It was the color of death.

Green reminded him of the portal that killed him, and the electricity that was constantly humming under his skin. It reminded him of being on the wrong end of an ecto-blaster and having to dodge for dear life. It reminded him of choking plants that swallowed him whole and tried to turn him into fertilizer. It reminded him of his glowing eyes and how they seemed to take up his entire face when he looked at himself in the mirror.

And right now, as he lay weakly on his side, grasping at fresh wounds with shaky fingers as he tried to ice them closed, the green blood that was splattered everywhere reminded him he wasn’t human.

Not anymore.

-

Green was a familiar color to Ra’s al Ghul. It was the color of life. 

Green reminded him of the Lazarus Pits, mostly. When it was the reason he’d lived such a long life, how could it not be the first thing he thought of? Green also reminded him of his cloak and the warmth it wrapped him in during the cold desert nights when his wife was still alive. Of the beauty he saw in the natural world and why he wanted to protect it. It reminded him of his green eyes that have been passed down through his very few children and grandchildren. Green was the color of the al Ghuls and represented the power he’d amassed through centuries of hard work. 

And right now, as he stood before the Well of Sins, Ra’s was reminded of a secret contract that was buried deep within his personal records, and the monster he’d made it with. The Gardener, the creature called itself, was a being who had crawled out of a Lazarus Pit years ago in search of Ra’s. Its flesh was made from thorny vines and grasses intertwined, and its eyes were tiny red blooms that glowed and made him feel sick just thinking about it. It had forced him into the contract, exchanging power and knowledge in return for a promise of help in the near future. 

‘Near future,’ my ass. Timothy Drake's fleeting voice flickered in his mind, and he could only agree with his subconscious's crude words. It seemed like the only appropriate term as it had already been several centuries since the contract was made, and the being had yet to claim its part of the deal.

He watched, mind racing, as the Well of Sins started swirling frantically. He was alone, with his attendants on standby. Should he call them in? No. Whatever was causing the strange reaction in the pool had something to do with that contract. He could feel it. A power was tugging at his heart, drawing him closer to the edge of the green waters. He loathed to admit it, but this was beyond his scientific understanding. He just knew that every time he tried to look away and leave, his whole body felt like it was alight with flame.

So he stood. And he stared. For hours, possibly, before the first sign of something new caught his attention. A screeching sound was echoing from the bottom of the pool. It slowly got louder and higher pitched as the stone floor started glowing so bright Ra's almost risked the pain of glancing away.

A large head was making its way through the bottom of the pool. It went slowly to accommodate large shoulders, followed by a wide chest and narrow waist. The figure paid no mind to the churning of the Well of Sins and broke the surface of the waters with the ease of a seasoned swimmer. The screeching sound echoed wildly, bouncing unnaturally throughout the chamber, sounding more like incomprehensible words. Ra's wanted to plug his ears with wax and banish the figure back where it came from. Instead, he didn't even twitch an eye.

The Gardener stood before him. And it was carrying a body.

"Master of Lazarusss," it hissed, inclining its head in acknowledgment, but making no move to exit the pool. "Too long has it been, has it not? I've come to collect on my part of the deal."

Ra's nodded in return. Higher being or not, he refused to bow to anyone. "I've expected this, Gardener." He said roughly. Despite learning their language years ago, the sharp chirps and clicks made by the dead were difficult to sound out. It was like he was trying to mimic a broken radio. "Although it's taken longer than I expected for your arrival."

The Gardener clicked its beak in annoyance. "Don't give me flowery words, Pretender. It was not my choice whether to appear before you or not. The Scepter of our realm visited me long ago and commanded me thus; I only now see her vision behind it."

"I...see." He did not see, thank you very much. That was more information in two sentences than he'd ever managed to get from the Gardener. Were there others at play in this little contract of theirs? He did not like the idea of that. "And I assume this whole thing has something to do with the boy in your arms?"

The Gardener let out a low humming sound that seemed to originate from its chest and echo in Ra’s bones. It glanced down, turning the body over gently to let Ra's see his face. The boy was just a child, no older than sixteen. He was deathly pale and seemed eerily stiff, just as if rigor mortis had set in. His white hair was plastered to his forehead from the water, and his clothes were nothing more than rags. Thick green blood was leaking from several wounds and pooling underneath his skin. It wasn't hard to guess what the Gardener was about to ask.

"This is our Guardian and one of the last of his kind. His haunt is not safe anymore, and I task you with his care for the foreseeable future."

Without waiting for a response, the Gardener sloshed forward to set the boy oh-so-gently upon the edge of the pool, taking care that his thorns did not pierce the child. A few vines cupped his face gently as if the Gardener was sad about the boy's state of being.

The assassin made no move to step forward and claim him. "What iske?" He asked. Ra’s voice caught on the last syllable, and he had to repeat the question again properly. Annoying.

The Gardener didn’t seem to mind and just stepped back, relinquishing its hold completely. "He is our Guardian." It repeated. "Care for him well. His fraid will be on the hunt for him and return any harm tenfold. But earn his loyalty, and the power of the Infinite Realms will be at your fingertips. Good luck, Master of Lazarus."

With that, the Gardener disappeared beneath the waves of the Well of Sins, and the waters calmed. The only proof that someone had been there was the sopping wet teen that lay at Ra's feet.

Ra's stared at the boy. The tugging in his heart was a bind, he realized. And it was tying him to the boy. Well, caring for a dead child shouldn't be that hard. Despite his disagreement with Talia over the matter, Jason Todd had turned out just fine, hasn’t he?

With the contract heavy on his mind, Ra's turned and left the boy lying there, clicking his jaw and calling for his attendants to collect him. The Lazarus Pits had gifted him with a new heir, it seemed.

-

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

In another world, a redheaded girl was on the edge of a rampage. Her scream echoed down the suburban street her house was on, and the neighbors sighed quietly and locked their windows shut, not realizing the severity of the question. They were used to this family's antics, and the girl's screaming as a result.

But this could not be written off as 'family antics.'

Jasmine Fenton, nicknamed ‘Jazz,’ was positively furious. Red-faced, she stood before her parents with steam coming from her ears and a bat in hand. 

“Jazzy-pants, we-” her father tried.

“Nope!” Jazz put up a hand to stop him. “Never mind, I don’t want to hear it. I already know.” 

She whirled around, tuning out her parents' protests as she stormed through their house. Correction, her parent’s house. If she had her way, Jazz would never see these metal and unloving walls ever again. Neither would her brother, once she found him. 

Her phone rang, and she flipped it open with a snap, leaving the bat at the end of the hallway. Only a few people had her number, and it sure as hell wasn’t her parents calling her. “What.” She barked, shoving the phone between her shoulder and ear as she dug through Danny’s closet. His bug-out bag hadn’t been moved. 

“It’s Tucker.”

“We have a code green and a code yellow.” She ground out. Good, the ecto-dejecto shots were up to date. The less time she spends in that god-forsaken lab, the better. 

“Fuck.” Tucker swore. Rustling was heard and she heard another voice in the background. “I’m putting you on speaker.” 

Jazz re-packed the bag quickly, adding in some non-essentials that she knew Danny would appreciate. After it was settled on her shoulders, she switched the phone back to her hand for a better grip. “Is Sam there?”

“I’m here.” The girl responded. 

Jazz tripped over her bedroom carpet in her rush to her room. She cursed but recovered and started ransacking her closet and drawers. “Good. One of you needs to contact Danielle. Our parents sold Danny out, and the GIW took him while I was gone yesterday. I’m going ghost and getting him back. Tell Danielle she’s in danger since they have her ecto-signature now.”

“We’re going with you.” Sam said firmly. There was more rustling, and Jazz guessed they were looking for their own emergency bags. “I don’t care how long it takes; we’ll get him back.” 

“Are you going to shut down the portal?” Tucker asked. 

Jazz paused, considering it. In the original plan, Danny was in charge of shutting down the portal while Jazz and the others took care of the Fentons, GIW, and everything else. It was personal for him; his final resting place. But now that Danny was missing, and they needed a reliable escape route. 

“Not permanently.” She decided. “I’ll figure out how to turn it off temporarily, or put a shield up, but Danny will need to be the one to make that call.” 

Tucker started typing furiously on his laptop, muttering under his breath until he got to the file he wanted. “Sam and I will take care of the town defenses, and Dani’s on her way from New Zealand. She’ll be here in a few hours. I’m sending you a bug; plug it into the Fenton’s security systems, and it’ll lock them out of the house for now. Only do it after you’re done in the labs. Sam’s gone off and is pulling some strings to get all the ghosts in town back to the Zone. I’ll start tracking Danny and shutting down all the Fenton and GIW equipment I can find.”

“Thanks, Tucker. I’ll meet you guys at Nasty Burger in two hours; pass that message to Danielle.”

“Sure thing. Oh, and Jazz?”

“Yeah, Tuck?” Jazz started counting her hidden wads of cash, making sure it was all there. They never wanted to believe the Fentons would go this far, but she was glad they’d made contingency plans just in case. 

She could hear Tucker’s silent snarl as he said his parting remark. “Leave enough of them behind for the rest of us.”

Jazz laughed, a little hysterical. “I’ll try.” She said, bidding him farewell. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure she could look at her parents ever again. But she knew, deep in her bones, that if they tried to stop her, there wouldn’t even be ashes left from the hell she would raise. 

-

Gotham was caught in a storm. It was one of those ugly, howling summer storms that threw water in your eyes and bit your skin with a vengeance. Damian squinted, trying to make out the sight of Spoiler and Signal through the rain, but even their bright uniforms were lost in the shadows.

He tightened his grip on his grappling hook as a particularly harsh wind tried to throw him around like a ragdoll. Water seeped into his collar, making him shiver. A beep echoed in his ear, and he risked taking one hand off the line to answer his comms.

"Robin," Oracle was practically shouting in his ear over the storm. "Signal made it to the Cave. Spoiler is rounding up Condiment King, and then she'll do the same. You can go back now."

Damian tsked. "Father is still out here," he replied. "I shall not return until he does."

"Robin-" Oracle sighed.

Another gust of wind made him grunt, and he cut the call to refocus on scaling the building. The only good thing that came from such a wild storm was that most of the villains were smart enough to stay inside. Splitting up in such conditions always left a sour taste in his mouth, but Damian understood it was necessary to cover as much ground as possible during times of emergency.

He wasn't sure this counted as an emergency, but Todd was certainly treating it as such. The citizens of Crime Alley were being hit hard. Enough to the point where Red Hood had openly invited the Bats onto his turf to help with the flooding and evacuation from some unstable buildings. Batman and Red Robin had gone, leaving Robin and Orphan to cover their patrol routes.

Finally, finding purchase on the rough brick, Damian quickly hauled himself up to safety. Some of his equipment was ruined, and his costume was soaked. Truly, this storm had come out of nowhere.

His comms clicked back to life. "Robin." Cain's clipped tone was somehow louder than Oracle's voice.

"I'm here," he replied, scowling at the oily mud on his shoes. Damned pollution.

"Home," Orphan said simply.

Damian scowled even harder. He could argue with Oracle without issue, but he barely won when it came to speaking with Orphan. "...Fine." He sniffed. "I shall return."

"Good." Damian could hear the smile in her voice. "Agent A has cocoa."

"I'll consider it." He said stiffly. He imagined his adoptive sister smiling slyly and glancing toward the sky before the comms switched off, leaving him to his thoughts again. After checking his grapple to ensure it still worked, he started picking his way through the building at a snail's pace, letting himself get distracted whenever he spotted someone in trouble. The Batcave would be warmer and dryer than the streets, but not everyone had a dry place to return to. Every little bit helped in the long run, and even Damian wouldn't pass by a lost child in the rain.

The only thing that bothered him more than the dark clouds overhead and fresh hail on the way home was the unnatural feeling on his spine. It felt like someone was watching him, judging him. But when he looked, nobody was there.

-

The stars were gone.

Danny felt weightless as he floated, staring at the space where the stars were supposed to be. He felt lighter than normal. Danny was surrounded by colors that flowed and ebbed like the tide, taking him deeper into this mysterious space. Golden fish and silver deer wove past him as fire and ice trailed behind, and yet he couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to get up. He just laid there silently. A bone deep exhaustion was settling into him, but sleep refused him.

“Ghost Child.”

Oh, Danny was dreaming. He was already asleep.

He didn’t turn his head, nor acknowledge when the stars returned to his line of sight. The stars wrapped around him like a curtain, cutting off the rest of the dreamscape. Two bright eyes, burning like red giants, peered down at him as thin hands cupped his body.

“Ghost Child.” The voice repeated again, speaking in his mind even as the words were swallowed by the silence of space.

Danny turned his head slowly. “Nocturn,” he murmured. These too, were snatched from his throat and lost. The cold seeped into his chest and he hiccuped. He couldn’t speak. Not that he really wanted to.

Luckily, Nocturn seemed to understand him just fine. He cradled Danny gently, bringing him closer to his chest. Something shifted in the fabric of space, and suddenly Danny was being laid to rest on the smooth stone of a crescent moon, as pearly white as his own hair. He sighed as the coolness of the moon seeped into his body, soothing aches and burns he didn’t remember getting.

“Where are we?” He wanted to ask.

Nocturn blinked slowly at him, his face twisted down towards Danny. His ram’s horns glinted as a glowing blue jay landed on them and started preening itself. Danny wanted to fly with the bird. His body didn't move.

“Sleep, Ghost Child.” Nocturn hummed. The moon vibrated beneath Danny, soothing the electric currents that kept him awake no matter what he did. Danny’s eyes started sliding shut as Nocturn’s song wrapped around him like a lullaby.

The others… Danny’s mind whispered.

Are safe. The song replied. Rest, young guardian. Your people are safe. You did well.

That was all he needed to hear. Danny let himself fall into slumber, relief flooding his mind. Yes, his people were safe. He did well. He deserved some rest.

As the young ghost fell into a dreamless sleep, a real sleep, Nocturn gently tucked the boy in with a blanket made from his own starry robes, shifting the fabric once more to hide away his core, and the boy who was resting on it. The bluejay on his head chirped indignantly from the movement and flew away, leaving a trail of smoke behind.

Nocturn paid it no mind. Warnings from Fate were never a good idea to ignore, but the bird was but a memory of a life that had long since passed. It only stuck around because of the dreams that kept feeding it. The ghost let his lullaby continue as he returned to his work, taking care to move slowly.

Undergrowth was taking care of his physical body, so he would care for the boy's mind. Vortex was off to round up the little ghostlings who had scattered like dandelion seeds, and the Master of Time was keeping an eye on the rest of Phantom's fraid while they rampaged in the mortal realms. After the stunt he pulled to protect the Realms, it was the least the elder ghosts could do.

-

"Is the boy awake?" Ra's asked sharply, entering the private rooms he had set aside for the boy.

The attending nurse, an older man born with no tongue, bowed his head and signed, 'No, sir. Vitals are off. He is a cold corpse.'

Ra's regarded the boy. It has been several weeks since the Gardener dropped the boy off in his care, and he hadn't awoken once throughout the entire time. He truly looked like a regular dead teenager, if you exclude the unnaturally white hair.

The Demon's Head bent over the boy's bed, tugging open an eyelid to see if he would react. Nothing. However, he noted the boy's eyes were green, which he was mildly pleased about. Green was such a lovely color, and this boy seemed surrounded in it.

A sharp knock echoed from the door, and Ra's granted the other party permission to enter. His best phlebotomist, a man named Paz, entered, holding a stack of papers as thick as his thumb. He bowed to Ra's as soon as he saw him.

"The results?" Ra's asked.

Paz immediately handed over his work, fully confident that Ra's understood everything he'd written. "For all purposes, the boy is dead." He said in a thick accent. He spoke in halted Arabic, as he'd only lived in 'Eth Alth'eban for a short time. "He has no circulation. No heart to move blood, or lungs to breathe. We must move him every hour to prevent postmortem lividity. He has undergone an extensive autopsy process, but it seems it was stopped before his brain was removed. No organs remain in his body otherwise.”

Ra's examined the papers. They were reports from different scientists and doctors, all of whom had been assigned to examine and work on the boy. Most of them said the same thing. The boy was dead and had been for a while. If the Well of Sins didn't do anything when he first exited the waters, what good would it do now?

He flicked his eyes up. "But you think otherwise," he stated.

Paz nodded enthusiastically. "The boy is dead, but his blood is alive!" He tapped a green folder that was poking out from the bottom of the pile. Ra's shuffled the papers off to the nurse and opened it. Printed off charts had been scribbled over with Paz’s frantic notes, documenting his thought process.

The phlebotomist rambled excitedly as his boss read his work, gesturing wildly. “It’s incredible! Most of his red blood cells have died off, and he has an abnormal amount of white blood cells, which indicate some kind of infection. But his plates-“

‘Platelets.’

“Platelets,” Paz nodded his thanks to the nurse for correcting his speech. “The boy’s platelets are still alive, and are actually trying to heal his injuries! We recorded a time-lapse last week to confirm it. The process is incredibly slow, even compared to human healing, but there’s a difference! Because of the absence of red blood cells, the plasma left in his body has practically doubled in volume, even though there’s no circulation to keep it moving. We’ve noticed a collection of stem cells at the base of his skull has started growing as well, and whatever it’s producing is being released into the body at regular intervals.”

“What kind of cells are they?”

“Unsure. At first, we thought it was cancerous in nature.” Paz tapped the corner of the folder again, prompting Ra’s to turn the page. “And while these cells are certainly growing as fast as unchecked cancer, rather than doing harm, we’ve taken samples and noted that they’re merging with whatever original matter has been left in the boy’s body. Bonding, like glue! The healing process is periodically speeding up with every release, the plasma has started circulating on its own, and the white blood cell count is diminishing. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it! It’s filling in for everything that’s missing, and keeping what is there, alive. Dr. Vanessa hypothesized that within the month, it may even start replacing the boy’s organs.”

Ra’s looked up from the research. “These photos look like plant cells, is this an example or actual recordings of the activity?”

Paz wrinkled his nose. “Those are evidence of the activity. For some reason, cellulose is present within his body, and the mysterious stem cells seem to be a mix of both plant and animal matter. It’s hard to track even with our technology, but it looks like the cellulose is forming a sort of…skeleton? Frame? I’m not sure what the right word is, but Dr. Vanessa says they might start regrowing in another month. If that’s true, this would be a huge breakthrough in the realm of organ transplants and other medical fields!”

The Demon’s Head hummed, flipping through the work again and considering the man’s words. “Very good,” he praised. Paz beamed like a child at his words. “Unfortunately, I shall be releasing you of your duty, and your tongue is too loose for your head.”

“What-“ Paz’s eyes widened as he gurgled, his words cut off. Ra’s twisted his wrist, driving home the dagger he’d planted in the man’s heart. He had no use for men who talked too much.

Paz fell to the floor, convulsing as he tried to weakly remove the weapon still sticking out of his chest. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he went pale as his blood seeped out onto the floor.

Ra’s barely spared the dying man a glance, taking back the extra stack of papers from the nurse and neatly stepped around him to exit the room. “Clean that up,” he said over his shoulder.

The old nurse bowed his head, waiting patiently for the foolish doctor to finish dying before he got out the mop.

This is why the nurse had survived so long; he knew how to stay silent.

-

[Nocturn tucking Danny in to rest. Ghost speech says, "Rest well, ghost child"]

[mkarchin713]

Reborn son of a Hawk AU

My first attempt at making an AU. Please be gentle.

….

Tucker is the reincarnation of Dullaman, the son of Chay-Ara and Bashari better known by their current incarnations Shayera “Hawkgirl” Hol and John “Green Lantern” Stewart.

Chay-Ara, Khufu and Bashari where in a triad and Khufu named Dullaman his successor.

Sam, Danny and Valerie’s previous incarnations were lovers of Dullaman

Sam’s past incarnation was Semat, a noble betrothed to Dullaman.

Danny’s past incarnation was Pakhom, a priest of Osiris and childhood friend of Dullaman.

Valerie’s past incarnation was Valia, the half Amazonian bodyguard of Dullaman.

Hotep-Ra was insanely jealous of Dullaman’s magical abilities so he created the Scarab Scepter to control the boy pharaoh. Hotep-Ra’s control was so great he even got Dullaman to kill Semat, Pakhom and Valia.

Bashari was out on campaign but when he returned and found out what happened he had Hotep-Ra mummified alive and cursed.

Dullaman ended up cursing himself and his lovers to be reborn together and then killed himself

Bashari had the four buried together in Dullaman’s tomb.

Hawkgirl meets Tucker at the museum exhibition of Dullaman’s tomb. Tucker doesn’t believe Hawkgirl is his mothers reincarnation because Tucker thinks he is ascribing his current friends faces to his past memories.

[kawaiikenna]

@leap-ing @elithemiar-blog @halfblackwolfdemon @winged-scaly-attic-dweller @spideypools @redfoxtail26 @manapeer @8000fangirl @antagonistly @all-eyes-no-dragon @mysticalcomputerdetective @01101010-01100001-01111001 @stealingyourbones

Hopefully that’s everyone. Anyways, here’s chapter two! Drop a kudos and comment over on ao3: Under the Earth; Far from Home. Angst, panic attacks, being buried alive, ptsd flashbacks, as well as depictions of a severely malnourished and emancipated Danny ahead. If any of this triggers you please be careful!

Jason had been ignoring the signs. The itch to go riding that would inevitably end at the cemetery where he had been buried. The feeling like he had something to do there. Some kind of unfinished business that he couldn’t remember. The amount of trauma that was linked with the place made it…difficult, for Jason to even think about going past the cemetery gates.

Both Dick and Tim had gone in to see if they could find anything. They didn’t and Jason tried to put the whole thing behind him. To forget about the whole ordeal. But something kept pulling him back. Now two weeks after he initially started feeling the strange pulling, Jason is standing before the gates. He stares at the wrought iron with a slight distain.

He takes a deep breath and pushes past the gates and into the cemetery. His burial plot was in the southeast corner. So he made his way over to it, hoping that it would make these feelings finally settle. As he passed row upon row of headstones, the feelings did not settle. If anything, something stirred in his chest. Something fearful and desperate. Jason was about to turn around and give up when something caught his eye.

Tucked away in an unkempt corner was a very recent grave. Initially he thought it was unmarked but upon a closer look Jason found a wooden plaque sunken into the muddy ground. It had hastily carved words; ‘To our beloved son. We wish we had known sooner.’

Jason picked up and turned the plaque over to see if there was a name. There was none. Only the words he had seen before. He neatly places the plaque back at the head of the grave.

“Your parents must have loved you a lot buddy.” Jason says, his emotions settling just a bit in his chest. “I hope you rest in peace.”

And as he was turning to leave, something happened. It was like the barest of whispers spoken directly into his mind. Quiet but desperate all the same.

help

Jason turns back towards the fresh grave. He doesn’t know why he did it, but he responded. Not really in words, more of a wave of morbid curiosity. The answering response he got nearly knocked him off his feet.

Help, help, buried, not dead, alive, alive, ALIVE.

An instant wave of panic took over his senses. Suddenly Jason was back in his own casket. Buried underground with no hope of help or rescue. Left alone to suffocate and die a second time.

He was on his knees clawing at the dirt before he knew what he was doing.

Alive, help, coming, safe?

He waited on baited breath. Hoping for a response. Anything that would tell him that the boy buried there was still clinging to life. The further he dug into the dirt the more desperate he became. It had rained recently, just the night prior, so the dirt had become heavy and sloppy. Even with it being freshly turned, the rain had packed it down some. Making it much more difficult to dig through.

No, no, hurt, alive, hurt.

Jason screams into the empty cemetery. He roughly shucks off his motorcycle jacket and his shirt. Leaving him in his boots, jeans, and white tank top. Tiny rocks and dirt shove themselves under his fingernails as he shovels and scoops dirt, throwing it haphazardly, only caring about hopefully, possibly saving the boy.

Jason continued to send mental waves of help and safety through whatever mind fuckery this was. With every desperate cry for help, he became more frenzied and desperate himself. Soon, far too soon, he hadn’t dug even two feet into the ground, he made first contact with the casket. What he wasn’t expecting was to be shocked and for green sparks to shoot out from the box in the ground. Jason pushes past it though. It wasn’t too painful, more of like the kind of static shock you would get as a kid playing on the trampoline. Slowly, too slowly, he uncovered more and more of the box. He had finally uncovered most of it when he noticed a sliding hatch closer to the head of the coffin-like box.

He was not prepared for what he saw on the other side of this tiny window. Blue eyes with a green shine stared up at him. Tear tracks running down his face, glowing a strange green. Black hair limp and lifeless, flopped to one side of the kid’s face. Skeletal hands and fingers pressed up against the mockery of a window as green sparks flitted about. A gaunt, skeletal frame shaking from the constant shock.

Jason hesitated for only a moment before nearly ripping the lid off of the coffin. Hydraulic hinges squealing in protest as stale air flooded out of the box. There was soft sobbing coming from the teen. Jason gently picked him up and pulled him out of the tiny prison. The teen shook in his arms but held tightly to Jason as if his very being depended on it. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans with only socks on his feet. Everything was far too baggy on the boy, only testifying further that he was severely dehydrated and malnourished.

Jason whispered consoling words. What they meant he didn’t know, because at that moment the panic had finally swept him up. Flashbacks and anxiety threatened to swallow him up completely but was staved off by the quivering teen in his arms. It grounded him enough to keep a tight hold on the teen.

~~~

Jason wasn’t sure how long they had stayed down in the dug out grave. Long enough that the sky had turned from an almost dusky color to the city lightened smog of the night. The black haired teen had passed out into a deep sleep a while ago. When he had first fallen asleep Jason panicked, thinking that he had died. But a quick check showed that the teen was still breathing lightly and an impossibly slow heartbeat still thrummed in his chest.

Jason finally pulled them out of the somewhat shallow grave. He laid the teen in the grass and gathered up his clothing. Before he put his shirt back on, Jason chipped away all of the dried dirt on his arms. Anything that was still wet was scraped off and flicked into the grass. With his shirt back on he picks up his jacket and the teen, making their way back to his motorcycle by the gates.

He situated the teen to sit behind him on his bike. He used his jacket to secure the tiny, skeletal body to himself. Settling it over the sleeping teens shoulders then tying the sleeves around his own torso. Once Jason secured the teen as best he could, he took off into the night, phone ringing in his ear.

“Master Jason.” A prim and proper voice answered. “How can I help you this evening?”

“Hi Alfred. I’m going to need medical help.” Jason’s voice is gruff and water from the amount of screaming and tears he’s experienced in such a short time.

Alfred sighs. “What have you gotten yourself into that requires you to visit the Manor instead of your apartment?”

“I don’t need it. I found a boy buried alive in the same cemetery that I was buried in. He’s really weak, most likely severely dehydrated and malnourished. I-I’m not equipped to take care of something like this.” His voice is breaking slightly.

There was a moment of silence. The only sounds Jason could hear were the wind screaming in his ears and the muffled sounds of traffic. The panic he had shoved into the furthest darkest corner of his mind was starting to creep into his thoughts again.

“Alright. Bring him straight into the cave. I’ll have a bed ready for him and I’ll call Dr. Leslie in. I may be able to do many things, this however seems like a situation we need a professional opinion on.”

“Kay. I’ll see you then.”

[anthrofreshtodeath]

ohh man these prompts are perfect and so rizzles coded already lmao but i would like to request lap sitting please ☺️

Wow this is so late - and I have one more! But lap sitting it is for this evening.

—-

Jane pushes through the crowd of Italian bodies on her way to her aunt Anna Maria’s kitchen because her glass is empty. Normally, it’d be a bottle of beer, and normally, she wouldn’t be so jittery, so distracted as she smiles and nods at her cousins, but it’s Christmas - so she’s sipping her aunt’s signature spiked egg nog. The jitteriness, however, the nervousness, has more to do with the fact that Maura’s here, too.

And you know, things are good. Ish.

They just got done fighting over Paddy Doyle like a week ago. They’ve seen each other outside of work twice in that time. Jane hates it, honestly, the here-and-there kind of love she’s been forced to give her best friend lately. And in the deepest recesses of her heart, Jane will admit that she’s probably more than half to blame for that awkwardness. Maura may have started the yelling, but boy, does Jane know how to escalate.

It took a near-death experience to bring them back together.

And isn’t that just like Jane? But the half-hearted coffee runs and mild attempts at conversation aren’t - not loving hard is, well, hard. It is better than fighting, almost, Jane thinks as she slides between cousin Danny and the new girl he’s seeing. Maura is being… sweet. Bashful and timid, and sweet. But, well, back at square one. Almost. Square one would be Jane chewing out the new medical examiner in the cafe line, but Maura is here at her aunt Anna Maria’s house. For Christmas. Swallowed up by the throngs of Sicilians and Neapolitans as she smiles politely and sips on red wine just to listen to the deluge of Rizzoli and Mazzone stories Aunt Anna Maria regales her with. That’s something.

So, once Jane fills up on some more super sugary liquid courage, She heads over to the barstools that her mother’s sister and her best friend occupy, and takes the one next to Maura. “Know where all the bodies are buried now?” Jane snarks. It feels homey and she smiles.

Maura rubs her lips together and blushes. “You didn’t tell me your aunt also married into the Rizzoli family,” she says, having just heard of Anna Maria’s ex-husband, Frank’s cousin Ray.

“And I divorced right out, honey,” Anna Maria tells her, face soft and lips pursed, mischievous like Angela. “They make it easy to do.”

Maura only sips mulled wine and avoids Jane’s eyes at all costs. Jane dips her head and turns her glass on the subway tile counter. “We’re not all so bad, aunt Anna,” she says, this time with a smile so small it’s more noticeable in the change of her voice than the tightening of her face.

Does Maura read her contrition? Her guilt? Because Maura touches Jane’s wrist, patting it with an open palm.

“Oh I know,” Anna Maria gets up and rubs Jane’s shoulders until she can embrace her from behind. Maura snatches her hand away as soon as she thinks Anna Maria can see it. Jane sighs, and her aunt squeezes her tightly. “It’s the men, baby. I was talkin’ about the men. Who could leave you?”

“You’d be surprised!” Jane yelps, secretly pleased to be swallowed up in the embrace, to be smashed into a body that’s loved on hers as long as she’s been alive. “You’d be surprised.”

“Nonsense,” says Anna Maria just before she lets go. She uses a Bluetooth remote to turn up the Dean Martin holiday tune in the background. “Now get your ass in gear because it’s time to open presents and you know seats are limited.”

The rest of the family take the music as a cue and migrate the way her aunt is headed. Jane looks at Maura, who looks even more unsure than before.

Jane uses that and the emptiness of the kitchen as an excuse to return Maura’s affection. She swipes an open palm between Maura’s shoulder blades, the cashmere sweater creating a pleasant swish as she goes back and forth. “You ready to go out there? It’s gonna be total chaos, but a little birdie may have told me you’ve got somethin’ under the tree. Maybe a couple somethings.”

Maura’s face dances - she grins, the water in her eyes moves as a trick of the light. The green shines and Jane wants somehow to swallow it. “I do?”

“Guess you’ll have to come and see,” Jane calls from behind her shoulder. She’s left her mostly full egg nog on the counter and opened the fridge. She pulls out a beer and twists the cap off, tipping the bottle in Maura’s direction. “C’mon, doctor.”

When Maura answers, her voice is wet. Jane gets it. Her family is a lot. Jane is a lot. And crying just sort of comes with the Rizzoli territory. “I’ll be in in a bit,” Maura says. Her hands go to her lap and she clasps them together. Jane looks down at them because she always does. It’s like a homing beacon when Maura does it. “I just need…”

“A moment, I got you,” says Jane. “Well, you’ve got time, because the kids always go first. But I’ll be waitin’. Come find me.”

“I will,” Maura promises.

It’s the most freely they’ve spoken to each other in weeks.

—-

A whole ten minutes later, Maura shuffles out of the kitchen and into the filled living room. Jane notices only because cousin Danny, on the floor with the children, says pretty loudly, “hey Maura, you made it!”

And when Jane turns, she sees the realization in Maura’s dropped open lips - slight but obvious to her. And in her gaze, which scans the entire room to see that the seats are all taken - both furniture and floor. And in the way she twists the ring on her right hand, because she would be the only one standing.

Jane nods her head so that Maura will come close, intent on giving up her chair. But Danny cuts in again. “Sit with Janie! She’s too skinny for that damn chair anyway.”

Jane gulps. The armchair is big. She’s tall but it eats up her frame. She’d snatched it when she could just so she’d have a place to watch the cousins’ kids rip open wrapping paper, not because it was the most prudent for her size. She’s about to stand up anyway, but, well, Maura shrugs.

Her cute shoulders do this cute upward tilt and Jane can’t help but shrug back. No one else has noticed them. Not even cousin Danny is looking anymore, because his nephew Rudy just got a giant Transformers play set, to the excitement of the rest of the people in the room.

While the Rizzolis and Mazzones whoop and holler, Maura stands in front of Jane.

They lock eyes. Maura brings her hands up to the collar of her oversized captain’s sweater and runs her teeth over her lower lip. Jane rubs one hand down the length of the jeans on her thigh and moves the other to her side, the beer still in it. Maura’s sweater is cream, and hers is navy, but otherwise they’re kind of matching.

Jane takes it as a sign and nods.

Maura visibly softens; her shoulders round and all rigidity leaves her body. She doesn’t even contemplate making Jane move over so that they both uncomfortably share the cushion, but instead she crawls into Jane’s lap and uses the armrest as support for her back.

No more distance, cordiality. Jane wants to cry. Instead, she just leans forward until her head knocks against Maura’s chest, and the softness there supports her. She sighs, closes her eyes, and Maura snakes an arm behind Jane’s back to hold her head close. “Hi,” Maura whispers into the top of Jane’s head, into the crown of her hair.

“Hngh,” groans Jane in reply, gulping in breaths of air tinged with Maura’s perfume. Formalities can fly out the window. Formalities can go fuck themselves. She’s waited days, weeks for this. For Maura, as Jane knew her before Paddy got shot.

Jane knows that’s not quite right, that this is still the Maura of after, but it’s ok because Maura loves her again. In the right way. The good way. In a way Jane refuses to fuck up again. And if they blur the lines of friendship, if they blow them up, so what?

“You’re missing the overstimulating robot toys,” Maura says against Jane’s hair. She chuckles when Jane shakes her head like an obstinate child. “They very much seem like something you’d like.”

“I got everything I need, right here,” Jane asserts. She thanks the universe that Maura is content to stay and hold her, to do all the watching for the both of them

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Running on Spite and Fumes by Amber McLain

Written for the Phic Phight Prompt: Wes decides to investigate one of Danny's rogues (from @bookhoard)

AO3 Link

[Warnings from past character death (Ember) and fire]

Wes was just about ready to throw in the towel. No matter how many times he said it, no matter how much evidence he provided, no one was ever going to believe that Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were one and the same. He'd been trying to show people for almost two years now with nothing at all to show for it. Maybe the time had finally come to give up the ghost and direct his efforts toward something else.

He sat behind and to the left of Danny in physics class. That half-ghost bastard was chugging ectoplasm out of a clear water bottle without a care in the world and nobody but Wes thought there was anything suspicious about that. Not long ago, Wes would have practically thrown a fit over it. Shouted, and pointed, and demanded, "Are none of you seeing this!?" but he didn't today.

Even when Danny turned around to make direct eye-contact with Wes, specifically to antagonize him, he didn't take the bait. "You know what, Fenton?" he said. "You win."

Danny blinked in surprise and put down his water bottle. "What?"

"I said, you win," Wes repeated. "Fuck you, obviously, but I give up. I'm not wasting any more of my time. My reputation has taken enough of a hit already. I'm moving on to newer, better things."

Danny scoffed and leaned on his hand, shooting Wes a mildly amused and thoroughly unconvinced look. "Like what?"

"Like, you know," Wes hadn't really thought about it yet, but he'd be damned if he was about to admit it to Danny. "Ghosts that are actually cool!" he spat. "Like Ember! Phantom is old news. I'm gonna figure out who she is, or—was."

"Right, sure you are," Danny rolled his eyes and turned to face the front of the classroom again, grumbling, "Good luck with that," under his breath.

Wes scowled. He'd just made that up on the spot because he hadn't wanted to admit to Danny, of all people, that he didn't actually have a plan, but now he really was gonna do it. How hard could it be to figure out who a ghost was before they died, anyway?

As it turned out, the answer to that question was 'really fucking hard.' Wes had basically nothing to go on except her song. He ran his personal recording—yes he had a copy of it. Mind control aside, it was a good song!—through every music identification app and program he could find and came up with zip. Either she'd written that song after she died, or she was one of those ghosts that formed in the Ghost Zone and only seemed like a normal ghost, or she was such an obscure indie artist when she was alive that no one... remembered her.... Oh.

That would explain her obsession. Ghosts often became obsessed in death with things they wanted or fantasized about when they were alive, but never got. Finally, Wes had a thread to pull on. He went online, surfing indie music forums, the more obscure the better. He posted the same message in tons of different places.

Does anyone recognize this artist? Her name is Ember McLain, but I can't can't find anything about her anywhere! <remember_ember.mp3>

Usually it was buried right away. No one recognized the song, or no one cared. Several times he got made fun of for having to ask who an artist was, even though no one else on the forums knew her either. It was a few days before he got an actual worthwhile response, but he did get one, which broke the case wide open.

Could you mean *Amber* McLain? The music sounds similar to hers, but I guess she's pronouncing her name weird to make the rhyme work.

She's from my hometown, and I saw her perform a couple small gigs at local clubs and stuff, but don't expect her to drop any new singles any time soon. She died like eight years ago.

Bingo. That was definitely something Wes could work with.

It might be. What town? Do you happen to have any more of her music?

The response came several minutes later.

Milton, Washington. And it took me a while to find the songs, but yeah. She only had the one album, 5 songs on it, and she wasn't bad, so I bought it at one of her shows. <running_on_spite_and_fumes.mp3> <homegrown_arson.mp3> <the_curse_of_adolescence.mp3> <feather_heavy.mp3> <daddy_never_loved_you.mp3>

Wes started downloading the files before he responded.

How'd she die?

This time the answer came right away.

Mid-show, the venue caught fire.

One of the amps blew and everything went up in flames. The back door was blocked, I guess, and she was trapped on stage, never made it out. Like six or seven people died in that fire, it was a big deal for a while.

Burned to death in a concert venue, huh? Wes considered Ember, her flaming hair, the way she was dressed, the spectral guitar she could summon and dismiss at will. That would totally make sense.

Once the music downloaded, he listened to the first song. The lyrics weren't nearly as self-absorbed as "Remember Ember", but the sound was the same. It was distinctly her music, her voice, her playing guitar. It was her sound, from before she'd died. Wes could hear her inhaling at the end of a lyric, could hear her voice catch the way a ghost's voice couldn't.

This is her! Thanks so much for helping me find her! Sucks to hear she died, but at least I could hear a little more of her music.

This had been the breakthrough Wes needed.

Yeah, no problem man! Thanks for reminding me about her. The new song is a bop!

Grinning triumphantly, he printed out that forum exchange for his evidence folder. He knew who she was now. All he had to do was find some more evidence of her life. It wouldn't be all that easy to do when all of that evidence was in a small town in Washington state she'd never made it out of, but Wes was never one to shy away from a challenge.

Ember would probably be happy to hear that she did have at least one fan when she was alive. Not to mention, Wes would make an absolute killing burning CDs with all of Ember's songs from before she died and selling them at school. He finished downloading the files and burned one CD for his folder right away.

The next order of business would be scouring newspapers for articles about her. No matter how obscure the musician was, dying in the middle of a performance when the venue burned down was all but guaranteed to make the news, at least regionally. It took weeks to find even a single article, but eventually he tracked one down.

Six die in tragic bar fire in Milton.

The article contained details about the fire, the bar, the cause, and the victims, including photos of them. One of them, the performing musician, Amber McLain was the spitting image of Ember, stage makeup and all, even the guitar she was pictured with was exactly the same as Ember's.

He'd found her.

He'd really, truly found her.

Wes printed out the article. After a little more digging on the bar that had burned down, he also found a scan of a promotional poster for Ember's show that night, and he printed that out too. He slipped those, along with the CD he'd burned, and the printed out forum exchange, into a folder to bring to school.

"Guess what, Fenton, you asshole? I fucking did it!" Wes hollered when Danny walked into physics class.

"Did what?" Danny asked with a scoff. "If this is about proving I'm Phantom, I thought you said you gave that up."

"We both know you're Phantom, and I did give up proving it, but this isn't about that." Wes slapped the folder down on top of Danny's desk and dug his portable CD player out of his backpack. "Read it and weep, fucker. Not only did I figure out who Ember was before she died, I also got my hands on all five tracks of the only album she released while she was still alive." He put the CD into the player and turned it on.

The opening riff of "Running on Spite and Fumes" started playing from the portable player's single, shitty speaker, but the moment she started to sing, Ember's voice, or rather, Amber's voice was unmistakable.

"Holy shit, you actually did it," Danny said under his breath, looking down at the contents of the folder, his expression a mix of awe and horror.

"Is that a new Ember song?" asked Star from the front row.

"Actually, it's an old Ember song," Wes responded smugly. "I tracked down her real identity and got my hands on everything she released before she died. I'm gonna burn more copies later and sell 'em around school."

"Wes, can I talk to you?" Danny said. Snapping the folder closed, he grabbed the basketball player by the shirt and dragged him out of the classroom by force. "You can't do this."

"What? What do you mean?" Wes demanded, shoving Danny's hands off him.

"If Ember finds out you learned who she was in life and exposed her, she'll kill you," he said, waving the folder emphatically in front of him. "Bringing up a ghost's life or death is one of the biggest taboos in ghost culture. She won't just haunt you, she'll straight up murder you. Until you die."

"Oh, please." Wes crossed his arms. In all the time he'd spent trying to expose Danny as Phantom, Wes had studied up on ghosts and ghost culture quite intensely. He hardly considered himself an expert, but quite frankly, his knowledge was on par with some of the leaders in the field of ectology. "Her popularity will skyrocket once her old songs start circulating. Personal obsession trumps cultural taboo every time, we both know that."

"Not during the Truce," Danny refuted.

"Well, yes, obviously the Truce is an exception; it's the Truce," Wes said. "And I'm not so insensitive that I'm gonna tell everyone in school how she died, I just wanted to rub it in specifically your face that I figured it out, seeing as how you doubted me a few weeks ago." Danny narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Wes.

"You'd better not tell everyone," he said, but he took a step back. "And if you do, you don't get to implicate me in any of this, got it? I won't have her after me again now that we're not at each other's throats anymore." He shoved the folder to Wes' chest.

"Yeah, whatever." With that the two of them went back into the classroom, where pretty much everyone was listening intently to the tinny music still playing. Wes discreetly slipped his evidence folder into his backpack before anyone else could ask about it, and wrote down the names of people who came by his desk to tell him they wanted to buy a CD once he had them.

The next day, Wes started selling copies of the CD for ten bucks a pop. Within a week, he had enough money to buy himself a brand new camera to replace the one Danny had destroyed a few months back. He turned out to be right about Ember being cool with him selling her old songs, though she demanded he give her a copy. She was even a little nostalgic listening to them, and she almost cried when Wes told her he'd gotten them from an old fan of hers.

It got Wes thinking about what other ghosts might feel if he reminded them of their past. The next on his list, he decided, was the Box Ghost. Why him? Frankly, Wes just wanted to know what that guy's deal was.