#Danny honestly didn’t explain much

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 16

The observant are done watching. They want to command the infinite realm. With the king sealed away they decide the time is now.

They discovered a way to twist the ancients. Doing so hitting both pandora and clockwork. Pandora now seeks to help free evil and wreak havoc. Clockwork is now actively trying to find the worst timelines to force to happen.

The observants didn’t get frostbite as Danny was figuring out his ice core. Which means now he had to deal with those two ancients as well as overgrowth. Maybe even vortex makes an appearance.

The observants game plan is to make all the powerful ghost look bad so they get locked away. The only one who can fix the personalities of the ancients is the king. Take out those powerful and no one can free pariah to defeat him.

Danny returns to amity to find time frozen. Danny the little thief he is stole three time medallions (clockwork let him). Pandora is preventing him from getting to sam and tucker releasing evil from her box.

Danny gets out of amity. Leaving Sam as overgrowths “daughter” his friends and family frozen then guarded by evil beings. He heads out human so they can’t track his ecto signature.

With two extra time medallions he sets out. He finds the justice league. Wonder Woman immediately wants to help. She wants to help free pandora. Superman also heads to amity to help out. Both have rigged up Spector deflectors so they can’t get overshadowed.

John is the one who figures out what caused the personality switches. Bad news the only person who can fix it is evil. Danny was ease-dropping (they had him making anti ghost weapons, Danny only made non lethal ones)

Danny being Danny leaves his time medallion and takes off to free pariah.

John and Batman follow the child. They try and stop him from summoning and freeing pariah. Danny is just like chill i sealed him up like 3 months ago I’m sure i can handle this.

No explanation he just transforms and frees pariah. John and Batman can’t do anything to the ghost king as Danny traps him and the king in an ice dome. No point risking others getting hurt.

Danny wins. Frees pandora and clockwork. Wonder Woman had managed to trap pandora (pandora was definitely fighting the spell and resisting as much as she could). Clockwork just knew it was gonna happen. The observants were silly to think he wouldn’t.

The justice league now monitor amity park for when the next earth destructive ghost escapes. Danny has been forced to take lessons. The first one is risk management and the importance of disclosing powers. It’s just a lecture made by Batman.

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?

Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.

Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.

Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.

Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.

But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.

Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.

“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.

“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.

“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.

“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”

“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”

From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.

Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.

They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.

Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.

Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 214

“I did an oopsie.” 

Clockwork paused in his work, gaze turning from his work towards his ghostling (it didn’t matter if he was an adult, he’d always be his ghostling) who was smiling nervously, avoiding his eyes. 

“Oh?” He kept his tone light, even as he worked on untangling a time knot. Honestly at least Danny was immune to any effect of time, even if he couldn’t look into his timelines in exchange. It came with being the other half of Infinity. 

“Yeeah… you know that corner of the multiverse you told me not to go to because you’re working on some time problems? I might have stumbled into one of the worlds in the corner…” 

He stopped his machinations, fully turning towards Danny- Space, his Core whispered and quivered in utter delight at having an Equal in power- with a raised eyebrow, leaning on his staff and silently telling him to explain. 

Danny poked his fingers together, giving a nervous laugh. “So uh, I was just exploring right? Well me and Ellie, you know how she gets when she can’t wander, and um… I er, we might have messed with some things in the creation of it… I didn’t know it was part of that universe, I swear! It was so far at the fringes and halfway into the Zone and I couldn’t just let a universe die before it began and-”

Oh- Oh! His ghostling (and his grand-ghostlings it sounded like) had claimed his first universe! He could put off these time knots, this was a grand milestone for any Ancient, nevermind such a primordial force as one of theirs.

And this is how a DC world came into being with humans evolving with more avian traits. Like wings. And claws. Look, Dan thought it’d be funny if they gave baby humanity wings and Ellie started rambling about how much farther they could travel if they had them and Danny thought it could be cool. Oh well, time to keep an eye on their itty baby world now…

[f0point5]

I know we have a different Y/N now but I saw those pictures of max playing padel and I just kept thinking about Max’s Y/N watching 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

i miss them

SAME. Ngl I saw the pictures and this just came to me so… I hope this satisfies your craving for them lol

*******************

“Once again,” you declare to Max as you enter the padel court, your hands full with water bottles, “I’m so glad you’re fast,”

“He’s only fast on wheels,” Lando jokes, shaking his head at Max as he takes a bottle. “Seriously, mate, Fernando is a great player, and so was Charles yesterday, so you are definitely the problem,”

Daniel and Fernando agree as they take their bottles, while Max gingerly waits for you to hand him his.

“It’s the- it’s my, like, shoes, mate. They’re sticky,” he defends himself indignantly while Lando and Daniel snicker. “I swear they’re-“

“Don’t worry,” says Fernando, clapping Max on the shoulder. “We tell them what it is in the champions group chat. Oh, no, we can’t, they’re not there,”

The snickering stops, and Lando and Daniel look like kids whose teacher has just asked them to hand in their homework.

“Well,” Lando huffs. “That was uncalled for,”

Everyone just laughs, and Daniel ruffles his hair.

The other three chug at their water while Max stands next to you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It’s cute, how unused he is to not being good at something, even more unused to continuing to do that thing regardless. As much as you tease him, you’re immensely proud. You know that voice in his head telling him to stop embarrassing himself all too well. He’s been better at quieting his than you ever have yours.

“Honestly, it’s the wrong shoes,” he mutters to you, sliding one of his feet along the floor.

“I know, Maxy,” you say, tempted to kiss the pout right off his face. “But hey, you’re going home with me, so did you really lose?”

“That’s not worth extra points, so yes,”

“You know, I really thought we’d make it at least six months before I murdered you,” you say, poking him in the chest hard enough that he rubs at the spot over his heart.

“I don’t get it,” Max says, his face twisted in hopeless bewilderment. “How does being with you mean I won padel?”

“Mate, look at your girlfriend. You won life,” Daniel explains, coming up behind you to sling a damp arm around your shoulders.

“Danny, if you ever get that Red Bull seat, call me, because this dufus ain’t cutting it,” you joke, squeezing at his hip. Daniel laughs and lets go if you with a sticky pat to the back as Max groans.

“Naw, come on,” he says, sliding his arms around your waist as you cross your arms over you chest, purposely avoiding looking at him. “I don’t even care about padel,”

He doesn’t pull you closer, mindful that he’s sweaty, and you feel your heart ache a little. Max was the centre of his world, thousands of people spent their lives anticipating a flick of his wrist, but he never once took another person for granted.

“Cut him some slack,” Lando says, and you watch him pour some water over his curls with a grin. “He knows he won the lottery,”

You frown at that. “He didn’t.” You finally turned to Max, looking up at his flushed cheeks and glassy ocean eyes as you press a palm to his cheek. “the lottery is luck. He got me on purpose,”

He smiles at that, hands ghosting over your hips as he lets go of you. “Who cares about being a padel champion?”

You shrug, brushing some hair away from his forehead, just to touch it. “I’d rather go home with a four time world champion anyway,”

[greenglowinspooks]

Ok guys consider this: DP fic where Danny and Wes run away together

Make no mistake, they still absolutely HATE each other. Wes has been trying to expose Danny’s identity since the beginning, and that hasn’t changed a bit since the GiW appeared.

Now, though, it makes a little bit more sense to Danny.

Wes is at his window, panting and shaking, and he is bleeding. The GiW, he explains, had been harassing him since the beginning. An hour ago, they got the warrant needed to take him into custody, and they went after him immediately. To add to that, they got the papers to go after one other person as well. Danny.

So now, they’re on the world’s worst road trip to Florida or Alaska or some other, equally far away state because Wes has an uncle there who he knows has a deep enough grudge against the government that he won’t sell them out for anything.

They hate each other, and desperately wish they could ditch each other, but Danny’s the only one who can actually keep their rustbucket bike (originally Wes’ brother’s, gifted to him after it started breaking down) working without dropping at least 2 grand on repairs, and Wes is the only one with a driver’s license.

Danny’s honestly surprised that Wes didn’t just sell him out. Wes told him that, quite frankly, he probably would have, had the GiW not attacked him as viciously as they did. He still hated Danny, of course, but he couldn’t live with himself if he just…left someone to get tortured like that.

Danny snaps that he knew the GiW would do that since the beginning, and if Wes had just listened to him—

In truth, he’s surprisingly touched. He’s never gonna tell Wes that, but still.

Basically just roadtrip of hell where Danny and Wes slowly get closer and start to understand each other, while simultaneously Jazz and Sam are working together to politically destroy the GiW, Tucker is running digital interference as much as possible (Danny, please stop showing your full face in front of security cameras, are you trying to give him a seizure), and the parents Fenton are beginning to think that they might’ve, just maybe, made a slight mistake in their understanding of Phantom.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#128 Part 4

Danny could tell Jason was getting upset over the things he was telling him. He wanted to open up and tell him more about the past but it was painful. Eventually Danny might tell him the full story about how he died but for now focusing on what they needed to do from now would take priority. 

Jason took a moment to calm himself down before speaking and Danny was a little afraid of breaking the silence, “alright, here’s what we’re going to do.” Danny stayed silent waiting for Jason to continue, “I don’t like that belt, we’re getting rid of it, and then, I’m taking you somewhere safe.” 

Danny felt a little confused; it felt like Jason really cared about him even if they just met. The belt only shocked ghosts so he figured his soulmate would have little problems taking the belt off of him so he nodded his head. He was tired and even if he didn’t 100% trust Jason yet, if they were truly soulmates, Jason wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. 

Jason reached out and gently touched the belt. It gave him a little shock and he tossed it away as soon as it was off Danny, who felt his strength finally returning. He took a few deep calming breaths, it's been quite a while since he was able to just exist without something terrible happening. He had forgotten what it felt like to have full access to his powers and ectoplasm again that the feeling felt amazing no matter what pain he was in. He could finally tap into his powers such as accelerated healing, which was already working on the damage on his chest. He was trapped within that facility for only a few months but the damage was already done. Being forced under the knife for days at a time where they treated him more like a dead body than a person had really done a number on his psyche. 

“Damn, I hated that fucking belt… Thank you” Danny finally said, Jason was silent the whole time just watching his hand where the belt had slightly shocked him. 

Jason took a few moments to process everything that happened and then sighed, “Why’d it shock me? You said it was set to shock you right?”

Danny glanced away and took a moment to think of what exactly to say next, “I’m not 100% sure actually. The belt shouldn’t shock a normal person.”

“The fuck are you then?” Jason’s sudden harsh words shocked Danny and he knew he let something slip, “... I accidentally touched it when I was you. That wasn’t a light shock like I just got.” Jason was still looking at his hands but when he looked up to see how terrified Danny was his face softened a little.

Jason took a shaky breath before speaking again, “You’ve been through enough, I… know I can be… intense, I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.” When Danny stayed silent he continued, “You mentioned ghosts earlier.” Jason paused again waiting for Danny to respond. 

Danny wanted too but he felt himself a little too scared to respond. Jason’s raised tone reminded him too much of how the GIW agents would berate him over everything. 

Jason sighed deeply and leaned back on the sofa, “alright, I won’t pry, but I think I know why it shocked me… I’m just trying to figure out why it shocks you so badly.” 

Danny could tell Jason was just worried about him so even though he didn’t want too he spoke up a little, “I know the reason it shocks me…” Danny said slowly and softly, “and I want to tell you, but I’m honestly a little scared. I haven’t had to tell someone this before and it honestly isn’t a pretty story.” Danny’s words were genuine, he really didn’t know how to even begin to explain to someone. It felt like something he shouldn’t say, not that he didn’t want too but if felt wrong down to his core. 

Jason nodded his head, “I get it, I’ll be honest, my backstory ain’t too pretty itself.” 

Honestly Danny didn’t know how he felt about that, knowing he wasn’t alone in hardships was both alarming and comforting. 

Jason nodded again, “Alright, I get it’s a touchy subject, you can talk about it when you’re ready.” 

———

Jason was a little peeved but he got it, he doubted if he could keep his cool when talking about his own death and revival. He was wondering if maybe being thrown into the pits might have something to do with how he got shocked by that damn belt. Danny didn’t seem to want to talk about that and Jason wanted to know but he also didn’t want to pressure him into talking about something he didn’t want to. He was a little pissed at himself for how he scared his soulmate.

Jason was also pissed this was how they met, he wanted to be the one to pull that trigger and even though he thought it was kind of hot that his soulmate finished the job, he was also jealous he didn’t get to pull the trigger himself. Danny said he had a fear of clowns and he was determined to keep him safe.

Jason was a little bit of a romantic and he wished he had a proper meeting like most soulmates got but instead he got whatever the fuck bullshit life Danny had. 

Jason took a deep breath after realizing his thoughts were spiraling out of control. He still had to figure out what exactly was after his soulmate, romance could come after he knew how to keep him safe.

Master Post:

Previous:

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 2

Pt. 1 Ao3

I couldn't let the brain rot die

-----

Breath Danny, this is all fine. This was however not fine. Danny stared, mouth agape, food untouched, as The RED godamned HOOD sat across from him tearing into a burger and fries. The man had taken off his helmet and almost sent Danny into a panic before seeing he had another mask underneath. Which, honestly, shouldn’t be surprising, from what Tucker’s told him these bats are hella secretive and have an insane amount of contingencies. He thought back to the time when Tucker had tried installing similar plans in case of emergency, which mostly fell through after like two attacks. Only a few plans survived and receive semi-regular upkeep.

“Dude you gonna eat that or what?” Danny was pulled from their thoughts by the vigilante sitting across from them. Right, that. As a response they lifted a couple fries to his mouth and Ancients these are good. Hood let out a chuckle at whatever face Danny had pulled, before his voice turned a bit more serious.

“So how’d you come across the Joker? Much less put a crater in his gut?” Ah, so this was an interrogation, Danny can do an interrogation. He swallowed a few more fries before responding.

“Um, well, I was just walking back to my dorm, and the guy jumped out of an alley and grabbed me. He started talking about the Waynes and… some other stuff. So I panicked and then he was dead.” Danny trailed off, stuffing the burger in his mouth to avoid talking more. And if it weren’t for his nerves this burger would have tasted amazing, but at this moment it was just a burger.

Hood nodded, “And the smoking crater? Are you a meta or something?” And there was the question Danny constantly thinks about because yes, technically he would be considered a meta, after all his dad and his sister both have the gene so it would be so easy to explain away his powers like that. But it felt so much like a lie. Like he was denying the fact of his true nature. But Danny also really didn’t feel like explaining the complexities of ghosts at whatever Ancients forsaken time it is, to the Red Hood, over a burger and shakes. So he nodded, gesturing flippantly with his hand in a vague either or motion.

Hood looked weary but took the answer nonetheless. “I took care of the body and called some friends. Do you mind if I tell them who did it or would you like to keep it under wraps?” He said, leaning back in the booth.

“Umm,” Danny ducked his head and dropped his hand to his lap, “I’d rather not have my name or face publicized, if that's alright.” Hood Hmm’d in agreement before tilting his head to one side, A smile smile tug at the corner of his lips which, if Danny wasn’t under an intense amount of stress right now, would actually be kind of cute.

“Speaking of,” Hood said, his tone shifting to something Danny couldn’t detect, “I don’t believe I got your name.” and that’s a lie, Danny had told him in the alley way. But then, Hood had been in a bit of shock so maybe he forgot?

“It’s Danny,” Danny said again, a bit more sure this time, “Danny Fenton.” He paused for a moment before tacking on “ He/ they” and holding out his hand for Hood to shake.

That smile on the vigilantes face grew more as he took Danny’s hand, “Hood, he/him. Pleasure to make your acquaintance” was that a wink? It was hard to tell with the domino mask, but did RED HOOD just fucking wink at them.

“So how old are you Danny? You said you were heading back to your dorm, are you a student?”

It took a few moments for their brain to catch up before Danny replied, “Yeah, I just turned 20, I’m starting my first semester at Gotham U in a couple days. I’ve uhh,” Danny ducked his head again, reaching to rub at the back of his neck, “I’ve only actually been in Gotham for like three days.” he muttered sheepishly. Looking back up at Hood through his bangs.

“You’ve only been in Gotham for for three days,” hood whispered to himself, his brows drawing together in confusion, “And you killed the Fucking Joker???” He half shouted, incredulously.

Danny’s Head shot around scanning the dingy burger joint, no one seemed to have noticed. Hood looked apologetic, then a war of emotions fluttered across his face before that smile, that Danny had now decided is definitely cute (Cause that’s not a lot to unpack), crept its way back onto the man’s face.

“So what do you study?” Hood asked, resting his chin on his hand and tilting his head just slightly.

Danny fought the blush threatening to creep up their face because no, no this serial killer crime boss is not cute you absolute idiot. And instead they launched into an explanation of how theyŕe majoring in Aerospace engineering and Astronomy, because this is his obsession and he could talk about his obsession all day if he could.

----------

Jason stared at the man before him, excitedly explaining a bunch of star stuff that, to be honest, he didn’t really understand. But this man was so goddamn cute. Danny apparently is the kind of person that talks with their hands when they get excited, because the wild gestures they were making only managed to captivate Jason more.

The two talked for almost another hour before Jason had to drop them off at their dorm because, “You almost got murdered once tonight and you got lucky, I’m going to escort you home whether you like it or not.” before returning to his patrol route.

He made a mental note while he was beating up a potential mugger, to look into this Danny Fenton, to maybe meet in civvies, because there is no way Jason is going to lose this guy.

Pt. 3

[luxaofhesperides]

Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!

They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.

And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 

Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 

His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.

The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 

It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 

He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 

He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.

“Duke?” 

He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 

Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”

“To what? Did something happen?”

Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”

Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”

“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.

“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”

Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.

In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.

Well. 

Oops.

Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 

He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.

Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.

Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 

“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”

He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.

Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.

Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.

Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 

He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.

Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 

Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.

“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.

“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”

Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”

“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”

“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.

“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”

“...Yes?”

“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”

The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”

“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”

“When?”

Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.

His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.

“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”

Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”

“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”

“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”

“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”

“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.

“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”

“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 

Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.

Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.

“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.

Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”

“I really am glad it’s you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.

“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”

“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 

He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.

He loves his husband.

And his husband loves him back.

Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.

[forzalando]

okay so i had a look at the prompt list and it made me think of a few scenarios🤭 it can honestly be ideas for blurbs, bigger fics or just brain rot, whatever you’re comfortable with:)

first one i came up with - daniel + "Letting go was the hardest thing I have ever had to do."

i’ve always felt like danny is a perfect for second chance romance:)

hello, hello! thank you so much for your requests!! this is definitely longer than a blurb lol but i was inspired and kept writing! i hope you enjoy it!! Daniel Ricciardo x ex!reader wc: 1.4k warnings: angst, curse words, mentions of drinking

You knew in your heart that you’d see Daniel Ricciardo again someday – but you never pictured it like this.

In your mind, you’d be out at a club in Monaco and lock eyes across the room or you’d finally accept one of Max’s invitations to come to a race and have to explain why you were there.

You never once entertained the idea that he’d seek you out – let alone show up to your apartment late at night in the pouring rain, but Daniel was dramatic. Passionate. He always has been. It was one of the reasons you first fell in love with him, he never did anything or said anything halfway.

When you heard the frantic knocking at your door, you should’ve expected it, but you didn’t. And now he was here, dripping water onto your floors, chest heaving with the smell of whiskey and his cologne surrounding you.

“Why did you leave me?” He asked you, the vulnerability in his voice like a punch to your gut.

“Daniel, it’s late, we can talk about this in the morning. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

“No, I want to talk about it now. Why did you leave me? Why was it so easy for you to leave me? And don’t call me Daniel, you never called me Daniel.”

“It wasn’t easy. Nothing about the past three months has been easy. And let’s not forget who left first. I may have been the one to say “we’re done” but you had been checked out long before then. All you cared about was your standings and getting Checo’s Red Bull seat. Congrats, by the way. I hope it was worth it.”

He winced at your words. At first, you supported him wholeheartedly. The rumor mill in general was vicious but the Formula One rumor mill was an entirely other beast. After Danny’s return in the 2023 season, all eyes were on him to perform then and throughout 2024. Checo’s seat would be up for grabs, he hadn’t been performing at the level he should have been in a Red Bull, and so Danny set his sights on a top team seat that everyone said could be his.

Somewhere along the way, he forgot himself. He forgot you. Late nights on the sim, time spent with Max both due to friendship and to talk about how possible it was for them to be teammates once again. You knew Max, and you knew that Max knew Daniel, so you knew that Max would give him just enough to keep that fire in his belly and keep pushing. He had to think things weren’t final up until the very end, even though you’d found out recently that they’d decided on Danny not even eight races into the season.

It took until summer break for you to muster up the courage to talk to Danny – to tell him how hurt you were that the only time he talked to you was to vent about a race or to make you feel guilty for not being at all of them. In all the years you’d been together, he’d never made you feel that way before. He promised he would turn things around. He’d sobbed in your arms that he could never lose you.

And yet, he did. Things didn’t change. If anything, they got worse with the added pressure of sitting just outside the top 10 in standings and Yuki performing extremely well in the second half of the season.

“I wasn’t fair to you,” he whispered. “I knew it then and I know it even more now, but I promise you. I swear to you. I will never be that way again.”

“And how can I trust you? You said the same thing to me six months ago when I came to you ready to leave and I gave you a chance. I stayed, and nothing changed. What’s different now?”

He opened his mouth to answer, and you knew what he would say. That he had the seat, that he wouldn’t be under that constant pressure. He could prioritize you. He would be the man you fell in love with.

“Don’t even start with me, Daniel. That’s bullshit. You may have the seat but it’ll be even worse now. If you make one mistake, the media will tear you apart. You’ll always be compared to Max. Hell, look what Red Bull did to Pierre and Alex! Talk to them! One fuck up and you’re done! There’s no way they made your contract any more favorable than the others, no matter how much respect there is between you and Christian.”

“I’m not Pierre or Alex, do you think they’re better than me? And that if they couldn’t handle it neither can I? You don’t believe in me?”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying, don’t put words in my mouth. I’ve always believed in you and I always will. I’m only trying to make you realize that the pressure will be even worse now, so how can you promise me that things between us would be better?”

The dead silence enveloped you – he said nothing in return, though you weren’t sure if he was quiet because he didn’t care to fight, or because you had scared him.

You didn’t want to keep going in circles, you’d said your piece and hoped that Daniel would understand. “I’m tired, Danny. Can we just go to sleep? The spare bedroom is made up, some of your old clothes are in there.”

Calling him Danny was a slip – it was what everyone called him, what you always called him, and he always claimed it was different coming from you. No one else said it with the love and care that you did. Even now, through all the hurt, the pain, the distance, he could hear the emotion in the way you said it.

He looked straight into your eyes, renewed determination and love – like it had never fizzled out between you.

“I’ll quit.”

You turned around and laughed, refusing to look at his face while he mocked you. “Don’t be ridiculous, Daniel.”

“I’m serious.”

When you looked back at him, his phone was pulled out of his pocket. He was typing furiously, swiping droplets of water off the screen when they dripped down from his curls. After a few moments, he slid his phone across the counter to you, the screen lit up.

An email was sent to his attorney, asking what his options were if he wanted to get out of his contract with Red Bull before he even had a chance to drive the car.

“You are more important to me than any car, any team, any career. You’re more important to me than anything in this world. I fucked up and I lost the best thing in my life because I thought something else would make it better, make me happier, and the only thing I could think about when I signed that stupid contract was how badly I wished I had been the man you deserve so that you could have been there next to me. Celebrating with me. It means nothing to me without you.”

He'd moved closer to you, tentatively reaching to wipe the tears gathering on your lash line and then swiping with his thumb to catch those that fell.

“There will never be anyone else that I love,” he whispered. “Please let me prove to you that this isn’t how things are supposed to end. It’s you and me, forever.”

“Letting go was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, Danny. I can’t do it again. Do not make me do it again.” You fell into his embrace despite his soaked clothes, and for the first time in months you felt like you could breathe again.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in your kitchen until sunbeams bloomed on the horizon – clothes sticking to your skin, sharing kisses that tasted like rainwater. You began to doze off eventually, tucked into Danny’s side, but before you lost yourself to sleep completely you mumbled into his chest.  

“Also, when your lawyer emails you back, tell him you were drunk and it was a dare. You’re not quitting, though I appreciate the gesture.”

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Explanations

part 4 of MM ao3

Danny winced, overwhelmed for a moment at the emotions Hood was projecting. A flurry of fear, anger, not again, pain being shoved at him as forcefully as if someone were screaming in his ear. 

Danny raised his hands in surrender. “Look, we don’t mean any harm. I honestly have no idea what pits you’re talking about, but I do know a lot about the being dead thing.”

Hood didn’t move, just kept glaring at him.

Danny took a chance and projected peace, want to help, it’s ok. 

Hood’s angry aura faded and he stumbled back a step.

“What was that?” Hood growled and Danny gulped as Hood’s aura flared again with anger, confusion, fear.

“Sorry.” Danny said. “I forget that new liminals aren’t used to projecting, but it’s just another form of talking. And you don’t need to worry, I’m also dead adjacent. “Though,” Danny paused, “I don’t know what the lazarus pits are.”

Hood was still tense but his aura had pulled back a little. “The Lazarus Pits are lakes of glowing green goo.”

“Huh.” Danny gleaned at Jazz. “We call the green goo Ectoplasm. But if these pits are what brought you back, I think they might be rancid. You stink.”

“Excuse me?” Hood took a step back as his aura flared with indignation.

Jazz cleared her throat.

“What my brother means is that the ectoplasm that brought you back may have been polluted. He can tell because he also has ectoplasm in his system which allows him to sense other sources of ectoplasm.”

“Explain.” 

“Look,” Jazz said, “Why don’t we all sit down and I’ll make some tea and then Danny can explain better.” she sent a pointed look in his direction.

“Fine.”

Jazz nodded and turned and walked toward the kitchen where there was a table and some chairs. Danny followed her and so did Hood.

Danny fiddled with his hands as Jazz was making tea. Honestly, Danny was trying not to comment on the fact that the fully dressed vigilante looked kind of ridiculous sitting at their kitchen table.

“Would you like some tea?” Jazz said, looking toward Hood.

Hood paused before responding. “No thanks.” 

Jazz nodded then turned back toward the kettle.

“Soooo….” Danny started. “Before we go on, i do need to know if you actually died, or if you just encountered some green goo.”

Hood didn’t say anything.

Danny sighed. “If it helps, I actually died and was brought back to life via green glowy stuff.”

Danny waited and was about to give up and wait for Jazz to lead the conversation when Hood finally spoke.

“I died, I’m not sure what brought me back. But then I was dumped in a Lazarus Pit.”

“Huh.” There weren’t a lot of things that could bring people back from the dead as far as Danny knew, but with all the craziness he’d already experienced in his own life, he wasn’t surprised. Though it was interesting that Hood had been exposed to ectoplasm afterward. What would that make Hood? A liminal, or a halfa like him? But as much as Danny would like someone else like him, since it wasn't ectoplasm that brought Hood back the man was probably just a liminal.

“Here you go, Danny.” Jazz said, setting a mug in front of him and then taking a seat next to him.

Danny inhaled the warm scent of spices and then looked at Hood. “So, how do you want to do this? I can do a quick info dump and then you ask questions, or you can just ask questions and I’ll answer them?”

“Info first, then I’ll ask questions.”

Danny nodded.

“First of all, ghosts are real.” he paused, but when Hood didn't say anything he continued. “They live in an alternate dimension and are fueled by and made of ectoplasm, the green glowy stuff. There are various things that can make a ghost, but we don’t need to get into that now. This is just the basics. When a human has a near death experience, or is exposed to ectoplasm they have the chance of becoming what we call liminal. That just means that they lean a little toward the ghostly side.” he glanced at Jazz, his gaze questioning and she nodded. “That’s what me and Jazz are. And that’s what I think you are.”  Danny waited for a moment, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Any questions.”

“How did you heal me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Danny shrugged and sat back. “As liminals we actually need some ectoplasm to survive and it can help heal us. Usually, the ectoplasm in our bodies heps us heal ourselves, but I think yours can’t since,” Danny wrinkled his nose, “whatever source you got yours from is obviously rank.”

“What does that even mean?” Hood said, but he sounded tired not angry.

Jazz smiled gently at him. “Ectoplasm that stays too long in the Living Realm, here, can absorb pollutants. Think of it like,” she hummed and tapped her finger against the table, “like air in an improperly ventilated area. If air isn’t allowed to move and flow it can become stale. The same with ectoplasm. It’s a form of energy that needs to flow and be filtered in the Infinite Realms, where the ghosts are, or it needs to be filtered by ghosts. But if it’s allowed to just sit in one area and build up, continually absorbing energy, but unable to filter or release it then it grows rank.”

“It’s complicated.” Danny said. “And neither of us is the greatest at explaining since we’re still learning. But yeah, ectoplasm is a form of energy that flows between dimensions.

Danny smiled at Hood, there were faint feelings of confusion, disbelief, denial, no true, not true, I’m alive. But Danny did his best not to push anything toward the other liminal. He didn’t want to scare the man.

“I need to go.” Hood said, standing abruptly. 

Danny startled, but nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

Jazz stood. “You’re welcome back here anytime if you have questions.” Jazz smiled. 

Danny felt the briefest glimmer of attraction come from Hood and while Jazz was good at not projecting, Danny could tell from her face that she was feeling similarly toward Hood.

Danny smirked. This would be fun.

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 8

WC:1175 Masterpost

Wherever they stopped was completely dark and definitely outside. As a cool breeze blew past, Danny was very glad he listened and had brought a jacket.

“You know,” Danny said as he climbed off Flash’s back. “It’s a good thing that you’re a hero, because this has mild serial killer vibes.”

“What?! No no,” Flash stammered before he dashed around the area.

Lights bloomed behind him as he ran, illuminating the space. They were in a field of some sort, standing on the foundation of a long gone building. The prairie grasses caught and sparkled in the light of the various lanterns that Flash had turned on. A cozy looking pile of blankets and a few pillows sat in the center of the foundation. Flash stopped next to it, shifting nervously on his feet.

“I, um. So there’s a meteor shower tonight!” Flash rushed to explain, the words almost garbled with how he was practically vibrating in place. “And I thought we’d come somewhere really dark where we could watch it? Since you like space? And I packed a little picnic for us too and…”

“That sounds really, really nice,” Danny said with a soft smile, talking over Flash’s almost panicked explanation. “I didn’t think I’d get to see the meteor shower this year, so this is really awesome.”

“Yeah? Okay, good,” Flash said, almost slumping as the nervous energy drained out of him. “I hope it’s a good night for them.”

“Even if not, this is… great, really great Flash,” Danny said. He made his way to the blanket, slipping his shoes off before he sat. “It’s been… it’s been a really long time since anyone has done something like this for me. Thank you.”

“Yeah? Wow, I keep saying that. I mean you’re welcome,” Flash said as he took off his peculiar boots and sat down next to Danny. “I’m glad you said yes.”

“You made me curious,” Danny said honestly. He picked up Flash’s boot, studying it as the other unpacked the backpack. “What are these made of to not just disintegrate when you run? I mean, obviously a polymer of some sort, but the friction it has to withstand…”

“Oh, we use a lot of the same stuff that you see in factories where machines produce high friction and some science from the automotive industry and even the aerospace,” Flash explained when he paused to see what Danny was talking about. “The shoes were pretty easy. The suit was the real problem.”

“Weave issues,” Danny said with a little nod. “Makes sense.”

“And chaffing,” Flash said with a grimace. “I have used so much baby powder.”

Danny couldn’t help but laugh at Flash’s expression. “I bet.”

“Yeah. Luckily Un—um, the other Flash had a lot of things worked out before I put on the suit.”

“That’s cool. Chemistry was never my thing, but material engineering can be really inventive.”

“There you are being smart again.”

“Me? Nah, my parents are just inventors. I used to do some work in their lab when I was a kid,” Danny said, setting the shoe down.

“And you didn’t want to follow in their footsteps?” Flash asked, his tone oddly soft.

Danny snorted. “Their type of science? No way. And besides, I never would have gotten into a good program. I, ah… didn’t do too well in high school.”

“No?”

“Nope. There was an accident in my parent’s lab with one of their inventions…” Danny closed his eyes. It was still hard to talk about the accident, especially when he couldn’t really talk about it. “Got electrocuted pretty badly by it. My heart stopped. Anyways, it threw me off pretty badly for a time and then I just never really got my feet under me. And there was this stupid bully and some other shit… sorry, excuses, I know.”

“Hey, no, reasons. People who think every reason is an excuse really don’t want you to explain yourself, they just want you to feel bad,” Flash said and bumped their shoulders together lightly. “Besides, look where you are now! You’re doing so much good and already a team lead. That’s amazing. Who cares about how you did in high school anymore?”

“My sister, for one,” Danny said. He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Wow, sorry, I really brought the mood down, huh? Show me what you brought for this picnic. After your pizza choices I’m curious what else you like.”

“Dude, you ate the pizza!” Flash defended, though his grin gave away his amusement.

“I wasn’t insulting your tastes, curious can be a good thing. It got me to agree to tonight, remember?" Danny asked. He was smiling again, despite the serious conversations a few moments ago. It was almost startling how easy it was to smile around Flash.

(Danny wasn’t complaining about that either.)

“Mmhummm, sure,” Flash said, ducking his head to hide his grin.

"Come on, unpack the snacks,” Danny said, nudging their shoulders together.

“Okay, okay, demanding,” Flash said with with a smile. “It’s a picnic, yeah? So have to have watermelon, but even better than normal watermelon, I have pickled watermelon!”

“Pickled watermelon?” Danny asked, taking the presented container curiously.

“Salty, sweet, tangy— the best,” Flash said. “And some little bread bite things to go with them.”

“How specific.”

“Shut it. Oh! Right, wasabi peas, a must have, and cupcakes for dessert!” Flash said, pulling out frankly extravagant looking cupcakes.

“You’re spoiling me.”

“Well,” Flash said. Danny could just barely see the blush coating his cheeks. “Maybe I think you deserve to be spoiled.”

Danny froze for a moment. Oh. Oh. This was a date. He felt foolish for not cluing in earlier. Suddenly feeling bashful himself, he glanced at Flash. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, like, okay, I’m getting that you don’t seem to think it, which is really like, so wrong, but you’re really amazing and nice and I mean, I’m just saying that I’m glad you said yes to tonight and since you said yes I’m going to spoil you, because, um, you deserve it,” Flash said in a blur of words.

It was charming that Flash thought that highly of him. Misguided, maybe, but charming. It bloomed a warmth in Danny’s chest that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Before he lost his nerves, Danny leaned over and pressed a light kiss to Flash’s cheek, right above the corner of his lips. “Thank you.”

Flash blushed red enough to match his mask. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed and leaned against Flash. “Oh, look! A meteor!”

“Where? I see it! Wait, I’ll turn out most of the lights!” Flash said, gone and back before Danny even had a chance to tilt over. There was just enough light left to see the food without losing the overwhelming wonder that was the night sky and streaking meteors. “Make a wish.”

“Naw,” Danny said. He’d never do that again. Besides… “don’t need to. This is already perfect.”

“Yeah,” Flash softly agreed as he twined their fingers together.

-----

AN: The boooooooys. My, I just enjoy writing these two being all soft and cute so much. And hey! Danny clued in! What do we think of Wally's food choices? (Can you tell I've been craving pickled watermelon?)

Stay delightful, my darlings!

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

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home: Chapter 2 Part 2

It's Wednesday! Time for another WIP Wednesday. No Ghost!Robin today. I've been focusing more on this fic. I think I'm going to try and start alternating weeks, but there's no set schedule or plan and it's liable to change at a moment's notice.

Fic Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

1.3k words

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Cassie hissed, “What the fuck, Tim!”

“I know!” whispered Tim back. “Danny mentioned home security, but I had no idea it was like that!”

Bart shook his head. “Want help with that kidnapping scheme? I’ll join you on your road to villainy.”

“That’s the problem with Tim,” agreed Conner. “He makes the road to evil look like it’s really the best option. Count me in, too.”

Cassie groaned. “Damn it, you guys are right. I’m in.”

Before Tim could do more than flip them off, Danny was back. “The pop express has returned!”

Cassie was closest to the door and Danny passed over her drink first. Only to freeze as their fingers brushed.

“Oh,” said Danny who looked at their hands then up at Cassie and back to their hands. “Huh.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Cassie and Tim started to get a bad feeling.

Which was only worsened by Danny looking at him with a grin forming on his face. “Sooooo, Tim—”

“No!” Tim shook a finger at him. “You’d better not tell me what I think you’re about to tell me! You’re OP enough! No more!”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “You done?”

Tim sighed and decided to just collapse backwards onto Danny’s bed. He stared at the ceiling and waved a hand in the air. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

Danny, apparently, loved making him suffer and continued passing out the drinks without telling him what he discovered. Then the mattress dipped next to him and Danny was above him with a grin that wouldn’t melt butter.

“So, Tii-iim,” Danny sing-songed.

“Daaan-ny,” replied Tim in the same tone.

“Apparently I can sense metas. And aliens. Which is so cool. They feel so different to humans! I knew about my ghost sense, but didn’t realize that applied to other species.”

Tim just sighed and closed his eyes. “Of course you can.”

“Conner!” The mattress shifted again as Danny moved. “You feel like warm sunshine and it’s so cool. Bart, you feel like static. Which… little awkward for me, but it’ll be good. I should try and get over my fear of electricity. Cassie, you also feel like static, but in a totally different way. Can’t explain it any better than that.”

“Why is static a problem?” asked Bart.

At the same time, Tim said, “I’ll add it to the list. And the descriptions.” He cracked one eye open to look at Danny. “Will you promise to stop developing more powers for me?”

Danny laughed and nudged his knee. “No promises.”

Cassie looked between them. “Does this mean you know?” she asked Danny.

“Wonder Girl, right? And Superboy and Impulse?”

Cassie nodded. “And Tim told us about you.”

“My lips are sealed,” Danny promised.

Tim rolled his eyes and pushed himself up. “Just gimme my water and fix my phone.”

“Wow, Tim,” said Cassie. “Rude much?”

“No. Look, you’ve no idea how ridiculously OP Danny is. Almost every week he calls me saying he discovered something else he can do.”

“If you think that was rude,” added Danny with a laugh, “you should’ve seen the things he said to me when I got him killed in Elf Night.”

“Ugh,” Tim feigned annoyance. “Don’t remind me. Honestly, what were you thinking? You were a rogue! Why did you attack the boss head on like a barbarian? We lost weeks of game progress! Weeks, Danny!”

Danny just laughed and threw the water bottle at his face. Tim caught it easily.

“Just give me your phone, Slim-Slam.”

“Slim-Slam?” asked Conner.

“He tried to object to Tim-Tam. I made him regret it.”

Tim shook his head. “This was a mistake. Why the hell did I ever think it’d be a good idea to let you guys meet.” To hopefully get them to change the subject, he shoved his phone in Danny’s direction. “What do you need to do to this anyway?”

“We just need to make it compatible with ectoplasm. There’s enough ambient ecto in Amity that waiting a few weeks allows it to happen naturally, but that’s not an option for you guys. Tuck and I went through, like, fifty devices figuring out the exact quantities and locations to add ectoplasm to force the process without destroying the device. It took us ages, but we figured it out. Now Tuck and I get extra money from the tech geeks in town who don’t want to wait the month or so it usually takes for new devices to start working.”

“Speaking of Tucker, will I be able to meet him? And Sam? You’re meeting my friends, I want to meet yours.”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. I’ll text them to meet us at Nasty Burger in forty minutes.” He sat at his desk and set down Tim’s phone to do so. Then, he opened a drawer and pulled out a set of micropipettes and disposable tips in a variety of sizes along with an empty glass beaker. Then came out an electronics tool kit. Tim had a similar one, though Danny’s looked like it had been obtained piecemeal as nothing matched. Finally, he opened a different drawer and pulled out a vial of a glowing green liquid.

Tim pushed himself off the bed and moved to stand over Danny’s shoulder. His friends joined him.

Bart asked, “So what will you be doing? What’s that green stuff?”

“It’s ectoplasm. The stuff ghosts and their dimension are made of. Ectoplasm is… complicated. This is unshaped ectoplasm, also called pure ectoplasm. A ghost or sentient creature can impose their will on it and make it function in a specific way. Since I’ve died, I have an easier time shaping it than most humans. I’ll send ‘tech’ vibes at it to get it to fuse to the phone more easily and apply carefully determined quantities to the different parts of the phone.”

“‘Tech vibes.’” Tim couldn’t hold back the groan. “It’s like magic. I hate it.”

Cassie bumped her shoulder against his. “You get that from Bruce.”

“Damn right, I do.”

Tim watched as Danny popped out the sim card. “First thing I’ll do is add a hundred microliters to the sim card. Then I’ll take the screen off and get to work on the innards. Do you guys want new batteries, by the way? Tuck’s got a bunch of ecto-batteries. Could have him bring them along when we meet up. You’d never have to charge your phone again.”

“Hell yeah!” said Conner. “Sign me right up.”

Tim shook his head, but couldn’t hold back the smile. “What do you mean by never have to charge it again?”

“I mean an ecto-battery will power the phone longer than the computer in the phone will last. I’ve switched over all my electronics. Nothing in this house is hooked up to the electricity grid anymore. I haven’t used a wall plug in four months. Not since Tucker and I fixed the batteries my parents designed.”

Tim didn’t like the sound of that. “Two questions. First, if the battery outlasts the phone, how should we dispose of it. And two, more importantly, ‘fixed’? What the hell does that mean?”

Danny had finished with the sim card and discarded the pipette tip in the beaker. Then he set about removing the screen from the phone. “Just bring the phones back to me when you’re done with them. I’ll upgrade your new ones, too. And their designs were liable to explode, overload the device, or bring it to life so it attacked. But Tuck and I took care of all that. Now devices only attack if Technus manages to get through the portal.”

Tim could sense Conner trying to look at him, but he resolutely refused to look away from Danny’s hands. He was removing the cameras and adding more ectoplasm to them, though much less than the sim card needed.

Unable to get Tim’s attention, Conner asked, “Who’s Technus?”

Danny shrugged. “One of my rogues. Tuck thinks he’s the ghost of Nikolai Tesla. He’s interested in controlling all technology and will make himself a giant mechasuit cannibalized from any electronic he can find in, like, a half mile radius. Super annoying.”

---------

Next

So I've decided which episode of the show this will take place during! It's mid season 1, so Jazz knows about Danny but Danny doesn't know she knows. I don't think that contradicts anything I've written (need to reread it), but if it does, no it doesn't. I dunno if most of you know what micropipettes look like, but if there's any interest I can take pics at work tomorrow and post them so you can see what I mean when I talk about the tips and stuff. I meant to do that today and then I didn't.

Tag List

@gremlin-bot, @bonebrokebuddy, @britcision, @lady-time-lord-, @welcometosasakiworld, @akikkobara, @phoenixdemonqueen, @dolfay, @skulld3mort-1fan, @we-ezer, @markus209, @sjrose1216, @onyxlightdragon, @dragonsrequiem, @jesus-camp-the-sequel, @spidey29phangirl, @kyrianclawraith, @evilminji, @introvert-even-on-the-internet, @emergentpanda-blog, @lexdamo, @v-inari, @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit, @longlivethefallen, @undead-essence, @xye-chan, @liandrin, @seraphinedemort, @kisatamao, @schalensitzbucket, @caelestisdreamer, @runfromthemedic, @nutcase8691, @channajen, @tonicmii, @ambiguouslyominous, @vythika96, @addie-lover-of-stories, @ironicvixen, @violetfox2, @pickleking8, @mysticalcomputerdetective, @ark12, @mygood-bitch99, @squirrel-wolf

Getting close to the point where I'll have to split the tag list in two! (I'll still add anyone who is interested.)

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU - If his parents are going to treat him like a punk, he might as well lean into it. 

Danny is getting seriously worn down by his parents constantly asking him to explain why he’s gone all the time and why his grades have slipped so far. I mean, sure, it took them months to notice, but now that they have, they’re alluding to the fact that he’s turned into some kind of punk and that he’s not taking life as seriously as he should be. This is what makes Danny kind of snap. 

He cuts his hair, gets Sam to pierce his ears in a few places (which sucked but was nice to catch up with her since Team Phantom didn’t get out much anymore), learns how to skateboard and gets Tuck to help him mask his identity on the internet as he begins online protesting the unethical treatment of ghosts. He makes picket signs that he leaves outside of Fentonworks and it takes days before his parents see them because they’re down in the lab. They go back up immediately after his parents take them down, and he begins tagging buildings with protest sayings and art all over amity park.

No matter how they ground him, the Drs Fenton are at a loss as to what to do to control Danny. Jazz says it’s not her place to interfere and is cheering her little brother on for being passionate about a new hobby. 

Danny’s honestly really vibing with the changes. He always understood why Sam wanted control over her own look, but he’s really leaning into the whole shebang. Ember and Johnny13 have never bonded over anything more than they have the punk transformation of their King. He’s really representing them fr fr- she taught him how to play the bass. 

With enough protests about the Anti-Ecto acts, the JL step in and begin their efforts to lobby change within the US government. Constantine is up to date on the new King being from Earth and thinks they might be able to weasel out a non-apocalyptic scenario if they reach out sooner than later. A letter gets sent through the infinite realms (No way in fuck was John going to try and summon a fucking King excuse you Bats)- Danny gets the letter and decides to let them sweat a bit, sending back his own letter that just says “K.” cause he’s learned that adults/authority figures all suck ass until proven otherwise. After a few days, a portal opens up in the middle of their meeting. 

Ghost King Phantom is rolling in on a skateboard, with the Ring of rage dangling from one of his ear piercings and ice crown floating above his head. He’s drinking an off brand smoothie, wearing a leather jacket that has medieval chainmail on it over his now distressed hazmat suit and his boots steel toed.

“...Sup. Y’all want to do something about this whole situation? I’m an all or nothing kind of guy.” Danny greets them. He means that he’s willing to be diligent in his efforts to disbar the Acts. It gets interpreted as him threatening to end the world, ofc, but that’s an issue he has to deal with later. 

“King Phantom we have been working daily to-” 

“Uh huh. Look, didn’t you guys have like a teenage group? I want to work with them, they’ll probably actually help me get shit done while you fuck around with paper work.” 

[mango-sp1ce]

A Late Night’s Work

It’s quiet.

The house is empty except for two. Dani’s off doing who knows what. She’s adventurous, and as long as she promises to come home on time without causing too many problems, she allowed to roam as freely as she wants.

Danny’s doing something school related. Missing work, or something of the like. Dan personally hasn’t been paying much attention. Whatever it is, it’s keeping Danny preoccupied at the library down the street.

So the only people in the house, are him and Constantine. If he actually takes the time to listen… Constantine’s in the living room, muttering under his breath about what sounds like hero work. A solid yuck, from Dan.

But he gets up anyways. Makes his way to the kitchen and turns on the kettle. It’s an electric kettle, because no one in this house can stand the high pitched whistle of a stovetop one.

When it finishes, he pours out two mugs. Ones a cup of tea, made in a very specific way that Dan honestly can’t write down or explain but he can go through the motions with ease. The others just a standard cup of hot chocolate. What? He’s allowed to have a sweet tooth, okay?

Carrying the mugs into the living room, he sits on the sofa and slides the tea towards the other end of the table. Constantine, from the look of it, didn’t even hear him approach. He looks up startled and a little frazzled. If the halfas were here they’d be sure to usher him away from his work.

Dan… kind of cares. But not enough to speak out against whatever overworking John’s putting himself through right now. Maybe later, when he’s pulling out his hair and creating creative swears that don’t make any sense.

For now, he nudges the cup again so that John looks at it, before leaning back and taking a sip of his own cup. He may not care much, or even pay attention much, but he knows how to coax this man into self care.

Monkey see, monkey do. Easy, really. Within seconds John’s taking a sip of his mug as well. The appreciative hum Dans so familiar with accompanying him as he finally closed his eyes for longer than a blink.

“Whats got you holed up over here? You’re going gray, old man.” Dan snickers, his eyes peering over the edge of his mug.

John laughs, though it’s a bit hollow as always. “You wish. I’d probably pull them off better than you.” Now that gets a solid laugh out of Dan.

John shuffles some papers in front him though, intercepting any vocalizations that Dan might’ve considered making.

“Just some league stuff. You can only be so late about turnin’ in papers before the bat gets pissed.”

Dan simply hums and nods, taking the last few sips of his drink. He gets up and puts his mug in the sink to be washed later before wandering his way upstairs.

It’s not that he’s uncomfortable or doesn’t want to continue conversing. It’s just… when people talk like that he can’t help but wonder how they felt. In his timeline. Batman was certainly dead… he can’t remember if Constantine was though. The blonde was just an insignificant blimp back then.

It’s a thought to ponder.

A thought to ponder alone in his room.

[britcision]

Okay so… today is a little bit of a long one, so we’ll see if we’re back at Tumblr breaking length or juuuust on the right side

But! Finally, much anticipated, we have the man himself: John Constantine! Here to share secrets and save the day! (Not)

And! This chapter got us right up to the edge, next chapter is gonna push me over to one MILLION words on AO3 y’all!! I’ve been flirting with it the past couple years but finally we’re here!

So. Might push the next one out faster. Might slow the next one down, since we’re in heavy waters again. And, since we are in the heavy waters, Imma tag on some warnings:

1) we gonna be speculating a little more on Jason’s death in this one, from a couple of viewpoints. We’re also discussing Cass’s in particular, and its repercussions.

No gore or details, just some death themes, mostly from Jason’s perspective after he and Danny leave the manor (Jason’s second POV segment)

2) Bruce is gonna make some very bad decisions about stimulants and concussions, mostly off screen but it is mentioned at the end of our first Bruce POV segment

And now the links!

First and link to AO3:

Previous:

———————

Never Make A Promise You Can’t Keep

Constantine hadn’t been looking forward to discussing Amity Park with the Justice League. Not the first time he’d been sent, and not for a single second after.

But hours turned into days, days to weeks, weeks to years. He’d almost thought he’d gotten away with it and that they wouldn’t ask.

Which was probably what had gotten the big Bat’s fuckin’ attention, wasn’t it. Couldn’t possibly let the universe have something nice for Johnny Constantine.

Luckily it was damn hard to lose something in the House of Mystery unless the House wanted it lost. Today she was feeling merciful and gave him the book on the second try.

It’d have been nice if he needed to refresh his memory of the case. If the knowledge of Amity Park hadn’t been sitting like a weight on his awareness since before he’d been.

Honestly he could probably point to it from anywhere on Earth. Most magic users could, if they had the faintest alignment with death.

Amity Park was goddamn wrong, even if it looked like things had turned out alright for now. Still, there were types of wrong you didn’t poke at.

Going prodding around would only make things worse.

And now he had to go explain that to Captain Prod himself, and try and persuade the fuckin’ Batman that no news was good news.

At least the Superboys had listened when he told them to clear off until he could visit in person. They’d pinky sworn they were back in Metropolis, and he’d heard enough traffic to believe them.

They could just as easily fly straight back to Alaska, but they weren’t stupid. They knew how to listen.

(Possibly from trauma related to the times Young Justice hadn’t listened to him, but he’d take what he could get.)

Now he just had to persuade the Bat that he knew what he was talking about.

Constantine hated debriefings with Batman. The guy had no grasp of magic, which was perfectly fair for most folks.

He preferred that. It kept them out of his kind of trouble, meant he didn’t have to worry about them until it got bad enough they’d accept whatever snapped sentence he managed.

Batman though. Batman treated magicians like it was their fault that the world didn’t work the way he personally preferred. Like they had any say in the how and why of magic.

Asshole.

And now he wanted to scold John like a naughty child about something he had no way to understand. Well, fuck that.

For better or worse, the Justice League made Amity Park his problem. Years late or not, this was his show, and he wasn’t going to take shit from anyone.

Thumbing quickly through the book, he kinda hated how easily it fell open to the relevant page. Like he’d already spent way too long looking.

Even he didn’t fuck with the Infinite Realms. Not if he could help it.

Stuffing in his notes from the city itself he closed the book, left the House, and hurried to one of the closer zeta tubes. Didn’t matter which city he was spat out in, he could find one.

His number didn’t coax even a flicker of the usual dry amusement as he stepped out into the bat cave, scowling up at the massive screen.

League records. Great. He strode across the floor, hoping they could sort this crap out fast.

“What the fuck’s got you lookin’ into Amity Park?” He asked as the Bat turned to face him, book tucked under his arm.

None of his usual prevaricating or fucking around. No chance for the fucker to try his usual “control the conversation” shit.

If it had any effect whatsoever, it didn’t show. Damn white outs. Batman just stared at him for a moment, then turned back to the computer, pulling up another page.

Constantine didn’t look. He didn’t want to know.

“Why did you mark Amity Park as a prank?” The big Bat asked in his stupid, gravelly tones.

Constantine rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t mark it as a fuckin’ prank, I marked it as a no fly zone for your little lot, so again: what the fuck came out of Amity Park?”

Batman stilled for a moment, doing that annoying “human computer” bit again. John preferred each and every one of the actual cyborgs, even the ones that tried to kill him.

Then he turned back, swivelling the chair around to fully face John like a movie super villain. Asshole.

“Over two thousand legitimate cries for help came out of Amity Park, and were ignored. If they were marked for the Justice League Dark, you should have responded, not deleted them.”

And that sounded way too much like an accusation. And completely fuckin’ irrelevant.

Something deeply unpleasant was tugging at the edge of Constantine’s awareness, just below the irritation he scraped over the sense of impending doom he’d been ignoring for the last hour.

He pushed it down, scowling at Bruce as he crossed the last of the distance and slammed the book down on the table next to the keyboard, gesturing up at the screens.

Still not bothering to look. He didn’t want to fuckin’ know.

“Years ago, Batty. This could be time fuckin’ sensitive, so quit pissing me about an’ tell me what. Exactly. Got you looking into Amity Park.”

There was a moment of hesitance, and he just fucking hated that. Nothing that made Batman hesitate could possibly be… good.

The feeling at the back of his mind suddenly clicked. His eyes widened and he groaned, wishing he had something stronger than a cigarette. Maybe a bullet.

“Great. Just fuckin’ great. They’re here.”

Groping around behind him, he grabbed another swivel chair and folded down into it, elbows bracing on the desk and burying his face in his hands.

Well, this was the nightmare situation.

From the fucking death taint seeping into his fuckin’ skin, something extremely fuckin’ big had oozed its way out of the Realms, and settled itself in Gotham.

Batman’s attention had snapped to, the man suddenly alert and watchful as Constantine slumped.

One hand dove into a pocket for the carton of cigarettes, Bat Cave rules be damned. Not much fuckin’ point, but he wasn’t doing this sober, and his flask was too small.

For once the Bat didn’t comment as he flicked the lighter open, lit up, and took a long drag. Just focused that laser stare on Constantine’s face.

At least he’d grasped the gravity of the matter.

“What is here?” The Bat finally asked when it became clear Constantine wasn’t elaborating, sounding annoyed.

Constantine took another drag of his smoke. Some days nicotine just wasn’t enough.

“Start from the beginning, Bats. Tell me everything that led up to you lookin’ into Amity Park, and everything you found since,” he demanded, hoping there was still a point to asking.

“If this is time sensitive, Constantine, you need to tell me what is happening,” Batman growled, tensed like he wanted to leap out of his chair and loom like one of his fuckin’ gargoyles.

The bat sounded cranky. Fuck him.

Constantine fixed him with a level stare.

“Then you’d better get fuckin’ talking, hadn’t you? I need to know how fuckin’ bad it is before I know first steps.”

Batman hesitated a moment longer, then turned back to his computer.

“I can summon the League-”

“No time,” Constantine cut him off acerbically, shaking his head, “and might make shit worse. Just fuckin’… report. Gimme yer damn report.”

For all that the Bat loved paperwork, loved to bury them all in bureaucracy, he dithered another moment before nodding, pulling up…

Well lookie there, he already had a literal report typed up. Great.

Taking another long drag of his cigarette Constantine leaned back in the chair and scanned the document.

Hopefully this wouldn’t take long. Or the extra details he could already tell he’d need, that had prompted the dull and clinical report.

**

Jason had tensed as Danny did. First because of the sudden alertness he could feel in Danny’s aura, even reduced back down to conversational levels.

(And that had been fun. The more times he felt Danny’s aura wrapped around him, the longer he spent with his chest tight and Danny’s presence right down to his lungs…

He felt cold when it went away. Almost lonely, surrounded by people. Fucking ancients help him, he was getting used to it.)

Was that what it’d feel like if he felt that Danny was in danger? A rush of adrenaline?

It was a little weird being so in tune with someone, but not in a bad way. Danny didn’t seem upset, just suddenly on guard in a way that the whole table noticed.

On guard, and… amused. And then he spoke and Jason tensed again.

“So that’s John Constantine… huh.”

Danny could sense John Constantine. That was… Really not the strangest thing, but it didn’t mean Jason had to like it.

If Danny could sense Constantine, could Constantine sense Danny? Jason wasn’t sure if he should ask in public.

Tim had way less reservations.

“Wait, what do you mean? What just happened?” He asked, breaking away from Tucker for a moment. But at least Tucker also looked confused.

Danny shook his head, chuckling softly and finishing up his food.

“Oh, sorry. It’s Sad Trenchcoat Guy,” he added for Sam and Tucker’s benefit, both of whom relaxed like that actually meant something.

Sam was back in her original clothes now, although Jason hadn’t given her the thermos back yet. Once her parents arrived, maybe.

Jason stifled a snicker, along with most of the Gothamites. It was a pretty accurate description of Constantine.

“Still in the dark over here,” Duke put in, a slight frown on his face.

Danny shrugged again and grinned at him.

“It’s kinda a ghost thing. I can sense other ghosts, or certain kinds of magic users. Constantine came to Amity Park not that long after I died,” he explained casually.

Tim and Dick shared meaningful looks behind Tucker’s head, and Jason stifled another chuckle. They thought they were so discrete.

Dick leaned in again, arms folded on the table as he gave Danny his best innocent interest.

“Oh? That’s kinda weird, do you know why?” He asked casually. Not questioning where Danny thought John was now.

He wanted to try and lead them away from the topic, probably. Too bad for him, if he’d asked he might have gotten some idea of how far Danny’s power stretched.

He’d explained to Jason about his aura covering most of the city, although he hadn’t claimed it as his haunt. But if Dickie didn’t want to know, Jason wouldn’t tell.

Sam fielded the question, rolling her eyes and folding her arms.

“We thought he might have come to help, since that was around when the ghost attacks started. He didn’t though,” she added bitterly, and Danny kicked her under the table.

“We don’t actually know why he came,” he explained, giving Dick a half smile, “he never talked to us. He did talk to some of the other ghosts though.”

“Wait, you can just do that?” Steph asked, her brows furrowed. Whether she was playing civilian or actually wasn’t sure, Jason wouldn’t put a bet on.

The amount most of the bat clan knew about magic and ghosts used to be that Jason was a zombie.

Which, as it turned out, was wrong.

Danny gave her a blank look, then shrugged again.

“I mean, yeah? You literally can just go ask half the time, but he was doing some fancy stuff. Binding circles and demanding truth, that kinda shit,” he added, making a face.

“He wasn’t popular among the living either,” Tucker agreed with a snicker. “Lotta weird questions for people, and no answers. We figured he was one of those occult nuts.”

“That’d explain the binding circles and truth thing,” Duke agreed with a solemn nod, folding his own arms. Honestly, watching them all play civilian was kinda adorable.

Tucker hesitated a moment, then shrugged and nodded, conceding the point.

“I mean, you’ve got me there. But he never tried to get anywhere near the fights, and then one day he just vanished. We got a ton more weird tourists for a while, but he was the weirdest,” he finished with relish.

Sam snorted again, clearly still annoyed about the whole mess. Maybe she’d been the one who actually wanted help.

Danny hadn’t mentioned how he felt about it yet, and Jason hadn’t asked, but they’d all been abandoned. Fucking Jason wasn’t happy about it.

“He was the only one who actually knew what he was doing,” she huffed, scowling at the table. Then she sighed, shaking her head. “So if he’s in Gotham, I’m gonna call it a bad sign.”

Privately, Jason was tempted to agree with her. John Constantine was a danger magnet, and Jason was half tempted to go and have a word himself.

Word in the Bat Chat was that Constantine was why Danny had never gotten any backup before. Danny himself might not be looking to start a fight over it, but Jason had Opinions on teen heroes.

And the adults who should have been protecting them.

Not with Bruce around though. He’d have to wait and see if Constantine stayed in town.

It’d give him time to ask Danny about the suddenly constant undercurrent of suppressed laughter he could feel.

**

In the bat cave, Constantine squinted at the picture Batman had pulled up from the gala. Not exactly the best picture on earth, but it was clear enough to tell. Shaking his head, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Alright, could be worse,” he decided, tossing aside his second cigarette butt. The report had been complete, he’d give old Bats that, and he’d even been allowed to smoke through it.

But a black gloved hand covered his when he reached for the pack again.

Fucker.

Constantine let it slide for now, raising both hands in surrender and then pointing at the screen.

“Looks like you’ve got the halfa. Not bad news, as it goes. He’s at least still half human, which is probably why your precious city’s still intact.”

He didn’t even want to think about what might have happened if another ghost tried to set up a haunt in Gotham. The old girl’s Curse would have something to say about it.

Batman didn’t look noticeably reassured though.

“Enough stalling, Constantine. What is this all about? What happened in Amity Park?” He demanded roughly, and Constantine was grudgingly impressed.

Seemed like that ol’ bat hyper focus was going to win out over even a threat to his own city. Or he hadn’t been fully listening.

No bet.

Constantine sighed again, gesturing to the screen.

“You got a ley line map somewhere on this thing?” He asked, mostly just to annoy the bat a little further. Not like he wasn’t gonna give him the answers.

Batman hesitated for a moment, then set to typing. Probably… yup, going into the JL Dark files. Zatanna kept a helpful reference folder for the mundanes.

Constantine didn’t think they needed any more help than they asked for, but she’d been right this time and he owed her a beer for it. A second later the map was on screen.

Constantine nodded again, pointing to the general area of Illinois.

“Pull up Amity Park on that map,” he instructed, wheeling his chair back out of reach to pull out a third cigarette.

Both got him an annoyed frown from old Batsy.

“What is this supposed to mean?” He asked in the old gravelly growl, the map already obediently zooming in.

Constantine lit his smoke and waved at the screen again.

“Y’know what ley lines are?” He asked back, watching the map scroll around.

Not one with a search function then. Batsy’d have to find it by hand. Sucks to be him.

It kept him from focusing much attention on John anyway, so that was a win.

“I know the places they meet are magical nexus points,” Batman admitted reluctantly, like he didn’t hoard information about everything on earth.

Constantine nodded, not willing to entertain his issues.

“Amity Park’s on a dozen of them,” he said bluntly, and watched the guy stiffen.

Zoom out a bit, find the flowering spot where damn near every ley line through that part of the world crossed. Zoomed back in to find Amity Park.

The bat scowled at the screen for a while, then at John, who’d put his feet up on the desk. Tough titties, they weren’t coming down.

“But what does that mean, Constantine,” he growled, and John sighed.

Cupped his hands in front of him, paused, and shook his head.

“Alright, I’m crap at metaphors so bear with me. You know about multiple dimensions?” He asked and the bat nodded impatiently.

Like he shouldn’t have asked. Like this fucker hadn’t just asked for the fuckin’ kindergartener explanation.

Whatever.

“Yes. There’s a different dimension on the other side of the ley lines?” He asked, and Constantine did his very best not to roll his eyes.

Well. Maybe not his very best.

But he didn’t do it as hard as he could have.

“No. There’s way too many other dimensions. But what the ley lines do is weaken a place in this dimension, especially where they cross. Amity Park is a fuckin’ sieve,” he said with finality, waiting for the Bat to catch up.

And sure enough, those frown lines etched themselves deep again. This guy was gonna make John Fuckin’ Constantine look like a fresh faced baby.

“So other dimensions can cross through?” He asked again, and John sighed.

Reductive fucker.

“No. Yes. Sort of. Because some stupid motherfucker in Amity Park didn’t just use the natural portals or holes; they punched a fuckin’ permanent portal to the Infinite Realms.”

Honestly using the natural portals would have been bad enough in his opinion. Reality was basically swiss cheese in Amity, and getting anything’s attention would be beyond dangerous.

He hadn’t even liked visiting.

Batman looked more stoic, which John assumed meant he wasn’t keeping up. Scrubbing his free hand through his hair, he blew out a stream of smoke and frowned.

“So you get natural portals between our dimension other dimensions. It’s how all that “evil other self” crap keeps happening. With me?” He asked dryly.

The bat nodded without speaking, which was as close to an admission of confusion as Constantine figured he’d get.

Whatever.

“You get more portals on ley lines, and more again where two cross. About a dozen cross in Amity Park, so they get lots of natural portals. Yes?”

The bat nodded again, face pinching up like he resented John’s tone. Double tough, he’d had every chance to read Zatanna’s primers.

If John was doing Ley Lines For Dummies the dummies could keep their attitudes to themselves.

“Natural portals, they open and close on their own. Rest of the world, they don’t usually stay open for long. They need power to stop the world from… mending the hole.”

Which was the worst fucking explanation of all time and not remotely what happened, but who fucking cared. Batty wanted to weigh in again.

“So natural portals also stay open longer around Amity Park,” he growled, trying to get to the next step of the explanation.

Which, actually, John hadn’t really thought about. Pursing his lips, he let his gaze drift to the smoke swirling around the ceiling.

There were actual fucking bats up there.

Of course there were.

Dramatic bastard.

Forcing his attention back to the bastard in question, he waved a hand to dispel the last stream of smoke.

“Doesn’t matter what natural portals do. Some asshole went to the spot in reality most likely to break on its own, and decided to punch a hole. A permanent hole, into the Infinite Realms.”

Batman took a deep, even breath in, like he was trying to hold onto his temper. Yeah, well, he’d walked face first into Amity Fuckin’ Park, now he had to join John in Hell.

“What are the Infinite Realms?” He asked, sounding as patient as ever. Brownie points for trying, John wasn’t going to.

“It’s where the unclaimed dead go. Souls not ready to move on, souls that were never born, and, much worse, it occasionally pops out personifications of forces or belief,” he ground out the last words, teeth gritting in spite of himself.

The bat stilled for a long moment, drawing in another slow, steady breath. Probably counting to ten.

“What.” It wasn’t even a question really, a flat statement of dissatisfaction.

It meant not talking about Amity Park for a bit longer though, so Constantine leaned in.

“God shit. Concepts like Time, Hope, Growth. Anything that someone, somewhere, truly believes in. Well, not just anyone,” he corrected, and Did Not enjoy the way Batman’s jaw clenched.

Not even a bit.

“It takes a lot of juice, makin’ a whole entity. But the Infinite Realms are the core of all the dimensions, the intersection they all go through, and that’s where the belief settles. The more people who believe, the more clearly they believe it, and eventually you get enough to form a personality.”

He gave the bat a little time to digest that one. To really let it sink in what a fuckin’ problem the Infinite Realms could be.

And then a thought occurred to him.

“Your city’s got one, y’know?” He mentioned almost as an afterthought, and Batty Did Not like that.

His head snapped up, white outs narrowing to slits as he glared.

“What?!” He demanded sharply and Constantine waved a hand.

“Gotham. Dunno if it’s all the shit you lot go through, or the stubborn arseholes that live ‘ere, but Gotham has a city spirit.”

No need to mention the curse yet. Batsy was already having a day.

That’d be for the next time he ticked Constantine off.

This time, just that revelation seemed to have been enough to stun the bat. Constantine left him to sit in this one until he was ready though.

Processing.

He wasn’t completely heartless.

He was a little grudgingly impressed by how quickly Batman put it aside and refocused on the matter in hand.

“And that’s why the Infinite Realms are dangerous? These powerful personifications?” He asked cautiously, like he expected John to say no again.

Smart man.

Constantine gave him a dry smile.

“If fuckin’ only. There’s spirits in there, Ancients, and every one of ‘em could give Darkseid a run for his money. But even the ghosts of the Realms are a fuckin’ dangerous lot. You know Deadman?”

The bat nodded to indicate that he did, brows furrowing.

“He can’t be seen or heard without magical assistance,” he agreed, that same caution present.

At least he was a quick learner. Constantine nodded in satisfaction.

“He’s a ghost made by magic. Ghosts from the Realms don’t have anything like the same limitations. They can’t be seen or touched unless they want to, and they can damn well affect the world around ‘em.”

John shuddered, remembering some of the attacks he’d seen. Nothing stronger than a baseline demon, but the damage you could do when no one else could touch you, or stop you…

And he shook his head, locking the damage back down.

“And worse, they’re fuckin’ unpredictable. Demons, they’re easy. They all want the same shit. Realms ghosts? If one of ‘em decides fuckin’ cheese is their obsession, that’s it. They’ll drown a city in cheddar.”

The bat was staring at him again, back on that stoic “I have no idea what’s happening so I’ll look big and scary til it all makes sense again” bullshit.

Constantine sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look. I ain’t even told ya the worst of it yet. How about we jus’ take it as read that the Infinite Realms are bad fuckin’ news, okay?” He asked as patiently as he could.

There was that little twitch, that little scrunch again. Not a happy Batty.

And he wasn’t gonna get happier while he made John teach him Magic For Dummies either.

But he nodded, folding his arms reluctantly.

“Then why did you leave the people of Amity Park to face them alone?” He asked bluntly, and… well, that was the question, wasn’t it?

Constantine stared blankly at him.

“You want Superman gettin’ body hopped by a ghostie craving all the cheddar in the mid west?” He asked in turn, and there it was.

The little indrawn breath. The fuckin’ scale of the problem.

Fuckin’ FINALLY.

“Look, Amity Park has a hero. Had. The halfa.” He waved vaguely at the screen again, the picture of Bruce’s mystery kid now buried several windows deep.

Didn’t matter.

“He’s got all the powers the ghosts do, an’ can’t be possessed. Last thing the poor little fuck needed was to face an overshadowed super.”

And yeah, the Bat still didn’t look happy (more to the better, that’d be a terrifying sight all on its own), but at least he had a reason for resting bitch face now.

Constantine sighed, waving a hand vaguely and tossing the latest butt down.

“Look, I can’t stop ya from pokin’ around. Not for lack of trying, mind. The Realms are a dangerous place, an’ Amity Park’s practically on the other side already. I dunno why the kid left, I don’t care. You though, Bats? You’re gonna do me a proper fuckin’ oath.”

He levelled his best serious stare, useless as usual against the damn white outs. It’d kill the asswipe to look human.

Batman shifted again, clearly feeling the weight of the last word.

Good.

“An oath?” He asked warily, and Constantine nodded, holding out his hand.

“On yer name, on yer blood, on yer tie to this fuckin’ city. No matter what you do lookin’ at the Infinite fuckin’ Realms. You do not. Fuck. With the Ghost King.”

The bat stared down at his hand like there was something wrong with it. John assumed anyway. The pissy face could be for anything.

And then he asked the question, because of fuckin’ course he did.

“What is the Ghost King?”

John sighed heavily, leaving his hand where it was, waiting for the oath.

“The prettiest fuckin’ princess of them all, what d’you fuckin’ think. The Ghost King rules the Infinite Realms, and by all accounts the last one was a bloody tyrant. Good news is he probably never noticed Amity Park yet, cuz America isn’t a smoking crater.”

Honestly, maybe he’d add a chapter to Zatanna’s document. Stamp it all across any reference anyone tried to make to Amity Fuckin’ Park so he never had to do this again.

He caught the Bat’s gaze again, weighting his words with enough power that every sound in the cave died around them.

“It took all the damn Ancients to seal Pariah Dark once. And someone’s beaten him, and taken his throne. I don’t fuckin’ know who, I don’t ask, but if they’re tough enough to beat Pariah, they are beyond what the League can do. Your only chance is to stay the fuck outta their way. Swear it.”

Batman stared at him for a long moment, and then down at the outstretched hand. Reached out and clasped it in his own.

“I swear. I will not knowingly upset the Ghost King.”

John gripped tighter, realized almost immediately that it was pointless against the reinforced gloves, and did it anyway.

“None of that, Batty. No bullshit. You do not fuck with the Ghost King. You hear the faintest goddamn whisper of their name, you turn tail and fuckin’ run. We will not survive their attention.”

He stared the stupid white outs down, as long as it took, and didn’t let go. Batman stared at him for a while, clearly absorbing the gravity of his words.

Constantine couldn’t remember asking a member of the League to swear to anything before. Usually he was the buyer in deals, not the keeper.

Woulda been nice to remain so, but nothing stopped the fuckin’ bat from sticking his nose in, so here was John Constantine, last condom of the universe.

Last desperate scrap of protection against a fuckin’ dick.

Finally the bat nodded, grip tightening in return.

“I swear. I will not engage with the Ghost King.”

**

Harley had gotten back just before Sam had to leave, with perfect timing to see her to the door actually.

The look on Pamela Manson’s face when Harley kissed Sam on each cheek and waved her off would keep Danny warm on cold nights.

A quick check of flight times back to Massachusetts (like Danny wasn’t going to take shortcuts) confirmed that Tucker could have one more night in Gotham.

Tim immediately offered to put him up in Wayne Manor again, clearly not allowing the chance to slip by him two nights in a row. Tucker was only too happy to accept, although Steph and Cass begged off.

Probably for their hero patrols. Danny wasn’t exactly sure how many vigilantes Gotham had, there seemed to be a new one every few months, but having eight of them at the gala last night probably meant all the rest had been out.

Obviously Red Robin wouldn’t be out tonight either, but there were enough of them to cover for each other.

Danny was kinda jealous of that. It had been just him for so long, and then him and Valerie, which hadn’t been better until she stopped hunting him too. He’d have loved a night off.

Still, their numbers meant that Jason probably wouldn’t need to go back to the night life unless he actually wanted to. He was definitely still built for it, but Danny couldn’t imagine anyone wanted to ask him to.

Most of the bats had clearly had their own run ins with death, but Jason’s had stuck in ways even Danny knew he didn’t quite get.

Jason had been so tense at just the thought of Danny being a teen hero. It wasn’t like that’d get easier when it was his little siblings swinging from rooftops.

Danny’s hero career might have started with his own death, but he personally was of the opinion that that’d be a perfectly fine reason to end one too.

So Dick, Steph, and Cass headed out not too long after Sam, and Danny wasn’t exactly surprised when Jason’s background angst jumped.

He’d stayed on edge since Danny and Bruce got back, even when Harley told them Bruce was off dealing with his own shit and probably wouldn’t be out of his room all night.

Danny’d bet fifty bucks that the arrival of Constantine actually meant Bruce was in the bat cave being suspicious, but he wasn’t gonna say it.

Tim had shown them to a games room, for all that he’d apparently also moved out. He still knew where everything was, and soon had them hooked up for Mariokart on the biggest TV Danny ever saw.

They’d played a couple rounds (Harley was expectedly devastating with red shells) and while Danny and Tucker were having fun, he could feel Jason stressing.

Like, even if he stuck his fingers in his ears and ignored the aura. The guy was tensed so tight his shoulders strained at his shirt, which woulda been visually interesting if Danny didn’t know why.

Cass was one near death experience from slipping back across the boundary for good.

Cass was off punching criminals with rocket launchers in body armour and spandex.

Duke was probably actually in bed, Signal did morning patrols, and Damian was obstinately refusing to play video games with them perched on the back of the couch, but still.

Dick and Steph had both given one life to the cause too, and for all Dick was a cop and in danger on his day job too, cops pretty famously showed up after the vigilantes ended the party.

More than half Jason’s immediate family were back in the line of fire and Danny could practically taste Jason’s Obsession eating away at him.

As much as he tried to pretend he was playing along and gave a shit about winning, the controller creaked in his hands more than a couple casual races should allow.

So, yeah, if he couldn’t get Jason to crack a smile with this one, he was gonna gently bow them both the fuck outta the manor.

He kept half an eye on Tim, who had a glass of water.

“Hey, you guys heard the theory about Batman?” He asked casually, just as another round of Mariokart started.

Jason kicked him in the ankle but otherwise ignored him, which was fair. He’d been exposed to Danny’s bullshit.

Tim stiffened and then forced himself to relax, Tucker rolled his eyes and jostled Danny from his other side, but it was Harley who answered.

Innocent as the day she was born.

“Oh? What? Is it that he’s a lizardman? Cuz I got right up on that cowl and he’s definitely a mammal,” she said casually, not even looking away from the screen.

Danny was pretty sure he heard Damian almost slip off his perch.

He was a little bit in love with Harley Quinn. He should get her number for Jazz, maybe his big sister would learn to have a little fun.

Grinning broad and only half fake, he drifted a turn to pick up a double item from under Tucker’s nose.

“Shit, yeah, you might actually know! It’s his secret identity!” He exclaimed cheerfully, and felt the tension in the room ratchet up.

From Tim and Damian. Jason… still wasn’t paying attention.

Not like he was deeply immersed in the game, for all he kept up he was nowhere near the speed demon that handed Danny his ass the night before.

Hmm. Better get his attention.

Tim and Damian had already settled again, probably remembering he was already In The Know even if Tucker wasn’t, and Harley had given him a very knowing look right before she fire flowered him.

Almost ready.

He waited until Tim had taken a hasty sip of water on a calm stretch, nudged Jason in the shins, and made sure he was louder than the music.

“So d’you think it’s possible that Markiplier’s Batman?”

Tim sprayed water across the couch, Harley fucking cackled, and Jason snapped his head around to stare at Danny so hard he cricked his neck.

Danny red shelled him for good measure, just so he wasn’t missing anything on screen.

Tucker rolled his eyes, also deeply used to Danny’s bullshit and much more interested in gaming revenge.

“Fuck off Danny, Markiplier isn’t even a Gothamite,” he said disdainfully and Danny shook his head, grinning.

“That’s why it’s the perfect cover. I mean, Batman wants to keep his secret identity a secret, right? So having an identity that very publicly “isn’t in Gotham” makes perfect sense!” He argued cheerfully.

Jason half snorted a laugh beside him, picking back up and speeding his way back into the race. Across the couch Tim wiped his face, still catching his breath.

“I fucking hate that that made sense,” he moaned, and Harley cackled again.

“Nah, he’s got a point! How does anyone know where a youtuber lives? We only see one room!” She agreed cheerfully, clearly leaning in.

It was so nice to have a true showwoman in the crowd.

Damian looked angry in the confused way now, and Danny would hazard a guess he didn’t watch youtube at all, let alone a lets player. That might have made it funnier, had there been no other concerns.

Beside him Jason huffed out another dry chuckle, shaking his head with the barest hint of a smile.

“I can’t believe Batman has an OnlyFans,” he said in a solemn, almost sorrowful voice… and dropped a blue shell.

Tim groaned like his soul had gone with it, clinging desperately to his first place lead. Harley cackled and added her own green shells to the mix, dropping all three as they came to the home stretch.

“Don’t forget the calendar of tasteful nudes! All for charity, just what Batsy would like,” she crowed with evident glee, and Tucker snorted a laugh.

“It’d explain all the surgeries,” he agreed reluctantly, and Danny had a sudden, utterly wicked idea.

“Hey… now that Batman’s on OnlyFans, d’you think he’ll convince the whole Justice League to do a pinup calendar, or just the other bats?” He asked innocently, watching said bats from the corner of his eye.

Well, Robins technically, but since only Tim was of age birds didn’t seem appropriate.

Tim himself threw his controller to the ground, abandoning the game and throwing himself over the back of the couch and almost hitting Damian on the way.

Damian definitely hissed at him like a startled cat.

No way Danny imagined that this close to the finish.

Tucker hesitated for a long moment, clearly considering his odds of winning, but when Harley blasted past Tim’s spun out corpse and across the finish line he abandoned his controller too to check on Tim.

Harley was surprisingly good at the game when flopped sideways on her chosen couch, laughing too hard to breathe. Danny breezed into an easy third behind her and Jason, giving the other man an assessing look.

A little wary of reaching out with his aura, especially when Jason was on edge. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Didn’t want to be too invasive, if he was honest. Danny had… kinda always been the one who was new to aura stuff before. And he’d gotten used to it, in the Ghost Zone.

He’d never spent this much time with another halfa before. Especially not without a single trace of punching or stabbing.

Except in Mariokart, where the Geneva Convention held no sway.

Jason had clearly noticed him looking though, and read the concern even without Danny pushing. He gave Danny’s shoulder a gentle bump, a nudge of fine-stop worrying alongside.

Danny nudged back, his own disbelief tinged with understanding-empathy-worried too.

But, that was kinda the other thing… the thing he didn’t really want to bring up around the other bats just yet.

And while Jason had smiled, Danny didn’t think he’d mind them dipping out.

Faking a yawn, he stretched, cracked his back, and looked over to where Tim had rejoined the couch.

“Honestly, I’m beat. I gotta try and get back into a better sleep schedule before classes start,” he said, pulling a face at the self-reminder.

Their break was coming to its end, and then he’d be back into university. His class schedule was flexible, more afternoons than early mornings, but he’d… miss this.

Free time to just spend the whole day hanging out with friends and catching up. Meeting Jason’s family, Jason meeting his.

Danny didn’t actually know what Jason did, whether he was working or going back to school, but it was gonna come up soon.

They had a trip to Frostbite to plan, some ecto shots from Danny’s fridge, and at some point he still had to introduce Jason to Frighty… and probably ask the guy if he wanted to be called that still.

It’d be a little weird to start calling him Halloween or whatever, but frankly him obeying Danny’s orders and calling him “my liege” was way fucking weirder so it’d be fine.

And about four more days before half of Danny’s time would be eaten by lectures, study halls, and projects. Fuck, maybe Jason would give him a hand with those too.

So long as he wasn’t sick of Danny by then.

Another quick glance showed that Jason’s face had reset into that tense almost-scowl again, staring past the TV.

At the other end of the couch, Tim gave a disgruntled huff.

“I’m gonna make you pay for that next time,” he grumbled, shifting to Tucker with an adorable moment of sudden concern. “Do you need me to show you to a room too, or…”

Tucker shook his head with a snicker, giving Danny a side eye.

“Nah, unlike that weakling I got used to the vigilante sleep schedule back in high school. I’m good for a couple more hours at least,” he bragged.

Danny flipped him off, hauling himself to his feet and giving Jason a nudge.

“Yeah, well, this weakling fought a croc last night and needs his sleep. Mind giving me a ride back?” He asked when Jason looked up at him.

Gently offered a touch of easy out-reassurance-trust me.

The deep furrows in Jason’s brows twitched until he caught on and his expression cleared. He nodded quickly and pulled himself to his feet.

“Yeah, we can take my bike.” Then he hesitated and looked a little uncertain. “You never told me where you live.”

It took Danny a moment to realise that… no, he really hadn’t, because that just plain didn’t feel right. But no, he’d met Jason again in that coffee shop, then come to the gala with Sam.

Hadn’t gone home last night, just stopped at one of Jason’s apparently multiple places; at least he was doing better than Danny had thought from the first apartment.

He found himself chuckling at the thought, shaking his head.

“Oh yeah, we’ve only been to your place… I’m at the south dorm at Gotham U, I can give you directions as we get closer,” he offered and Jason nodded.

He felt… weird? Like he was surprised Danny had told him where he lived, and ashamed of being surprised.

Danny decided not to dig into it, offering Jason his arm and bowing like all those Shakespeare plays he knew Jason loved.

“Shall we?”

Jason’s moment of surprise was quickly swallowed by delight and he bowed back, then tucked his hand into Danny’s elbow. Almost definitely knew etiquette better than Danny did, so Danny wasn’t gonna doubt him.

“We shall. I’ll drop you off and head home,” he agreed, then paused and glanced back at Harley.

Whose giggling had completely ended and was now watching them like her favourite sitcom. Chin in hands and all.

“Did you wanna meet up here tomorrow, or…” Jason trailed off, obviously also a little put off by her intensity.

She perked up when addressed, giving him a cheery grin and a double thumbs up.

“Here or th’ station, I don’t mind! Hey, did ya wanna come too, Danny boy?” She asked sweetly, head cocked to the side and just waaaay too innocent.

Not that Danny could work out what she was up to.

“Uh… to do what?” He asked carefully, head cocking to match hers before he noticed and straightened up.

Her grin widened, so she noticed.

“Oh, Jason an’ I are gonna go check on my buddy Waylon, see if we can’t work out what he was doin’ at the gala. If youse threw down he might like ta see ya there?”

Which honestly left Danny at a loss, until Tim explained.

“Killer Croc. His actual name’s Waylon Jones, and he was Harley’s tenant in Coney Island before coming back to Gotham,” he said casually, and Danny stilled.

There was an intensity in the room that hadn’t been there before, a sudden wave that sent a chill down his spine. Something from Harley, suddenly predator sharp in a way he hadn’t felt since Skulker had been a serious threat.

For the life of him though, he couldn’t put his finger on what though, since she didn’t move. Just grinned like she had been all along.

“People called him Killer Croc cuz of his skin condition. He gave up tryin’ ta change their minds,” she said with a light shrug, completely belied by the intensity of her stare.

Danny couldn’t look away until she released him, something satisfied in the quirk of her lip. Like she could see the sudden well of memory in his chest.

He’d never actually given in to all the things his parents had called Phantom. They’d been ashamed of all of them when the truth came out, and he’d only had to put up with them for a few years.

He tried to imagine decades of it, being called a monster for things he couldn’t control. For nothing more than a weird scaly skin condition.

He couldn’t imagine going full bomb vest over it, but Danny was man enough to admit he might just be a little touchy because of Jason’s death.

Which Waylon might not even know about.

Suddenly he actually did want to know why they’d attacked the gala.

Until now it had just been inevitable, someone was going to so why not them, but… well. He’d felt it under the whole plan, every stupid step.

Jason had trusted Waylon, not Danny, to keep things from getting out of hand. To know that a tussle was part of the fun.

Danny hadn’t planned on asking, but. Yeah.

“I’d like that,” he agreed quickly, nodding, at about the same time as Tucker found his own voice.

“Wait, that’s a skin condition? He’s just like that?” The techie asked sharply, staring around at Tim and Damian to confirm.

And got a disdainful look from Damian back.

“Tt, what else would it be? Do you know many scaled people?” He asked archly.

Danny’s mind snapped directly to Dora and her asshole brother. Knew Tucker’s had gone to the same place a second later.

“More than you’d think,” he and Tucker said in unison, and they shared a grin. If there was one benefit to their fucked up ghost hunting years, it was shutting down smart ass remarks.

Damian only looked more annoyed at being corrected, and Tucker shrugged.

“I thought he mighta been a scientist and tried to fuse himself with a lizard or something, like in Spider-Man,” he elaborated, and Danny kinda hated how much their lives resembled superhero movies.

Not that he’d say that in a room full of bats.

Damian’s brows drew down even further and he sneered, displeasure evident, but Jason cut him off before he could speak.

“Before you make a comment about mad scientists I’m gonna remind you we live in a city with Viktor Fries,” he said dryly and Damian’s mouth snapped shut.

Big brother privileges.

Wouldn’t it be nice if Ellie had given Danny those?

Tucker gave Danny a confused look, and Danny just shrugged back. He didn’t pay much attention to Gotham’s various rogues; he didn’t want to tempt his Obsession.

Tim chimed in again, without actually looking at Tucker which was kinda impressive. Guess they were just very obviously new to Gotham.

“Dr Freeze. He uses a lot of liquid nitrogen and freeze rays, he’s usually after money or diamonds to try and cure his wife,” he explained with a slight shrug.

Tucker made a confused noise.

“So… couldn’t Bruce just pay him off and keep him from bothering the city?” He asked carefully, glancing around the room.

Jason actually snorted a laugh at that, shaking his head.

“If he could, he would have. What Fries wants isn’t possible yet.”

Not possible for humans. Part of Danny perked up, wondering if Frostbite might have the answers… but no. It wasn’t his job to solve every problem in the world.

Bringing healthy humans to the Zone was iffy. An already sick woman… well, she might get hastened along her journey to the afterlife.

And this was a conversation he really wanted to keep away from, honestly. Gotham’s rogues weren’t his problem. Couldn’t be his problem.

Danny fought ghosts, unkillable entities who enjoyed missile attacks as sport. He wasn’t interested in learning how squishy human rogues were; it had been bad enough with his friends in the line of fire.

Mega pass on being the firing squad.

He almost reconsidered the trip tomorrow, but… he trusted Jason. Trusted Jason knew where he was coming from, and that neither of them wanted to trip Danny’s Obsession.

So he gave the big guy a smile and an elbow nudge, nodding for the door.

“Not that rogue chat isn’t fascinating, but you were taking me to bed?” He asked hopefully, and only realised what he’d said when Harley stuffed half her fist in her mouth to laugh.

And now, now Danny had a choice. He could feel the heat threatening to build, and blushing? Blushing would make things much worse.

Jason’s cheeks had pinked and that was adorable and Danny would ectoblast anyone who gave him shit for it, but if DANNY blushed, Tucker would never let it go.

No, the better answer had to be to play it off, and what did you do to counter red in makeup? You added green.

Not that Danny had used ectoplasm as a fucking colour corrector before, but he might as well try. So he let his grin go saucy, eyebrows waggling, and tried a teeny bit of spectral ice to cool his cheeks.

It made Jason chuckle again, so he’d take it as a win, and Jason gave him another bow, hand still tucked in Danny’s arm.

“Your chariot awaits.”

Tim and Tucker mimed puking almost simultaneously. They were perfect for each other. And had no taste, so that worked out well for them.

Danny ignored them all and gave the room a last wave, heading for the door and tugging Jason along with.

“Night all, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Harley, and Tucker just text me when you’re up and we’ll see about getting you home,” he called brightly, definitely not about to stop no matter what anyone said.

Not even when Harley hauled herself vertical and call after them,

“Oh, Danny! If the bat calendars do come out, shall I grab you a Red Hood one?” She asked saucily and Danny felt Jason’s grip spasm in his elbow.

Which. He was gonna try putting together later, but tonight he really did wanna get out of there before long.

Who even was Red Hood?

Danny’d never seen him and he hadn’t turned up at the gala, so he didn’t have a guess ready, just like Batwoman.

A couple of people in one of Danny’s classes simped constantly over his thighs, but Danny now figured it was because they hadn’t met Jason.

It was probably easiest to agree, so he gave her a thumbs up over his shoulder.

“Autographed please!”

**

The headache that had lessened as he talked to Harley was back in full swing, along with a throbbing pulse in his temples and roiling nausea in his gut.

Constantine’s damn cigarettes weren’t helping, but Bruce just didn’t feel up to wrestling them away from him.

He’d expected… well. He hadn’t expected Constantine to come through full of fire and indignation, accusing Bruce of making the fucking mess.

His bad feeling had intensified too, not in the slightest relaxed that Constantine could feel that scrungly fucking kid all the way up in the manor.

No matter what Constantine said about the “halfa”, that could not bode well. Not with the look he’d seen on the man’s fucking face.

Steph called him an occult OSHA violation in a trench coat. Anything that scared him worried Bruce.

He could put up with some smoke and some pain to get the information he needed with a minimum of fuss.

He was beginning to wish he’d gotten some sleep though. Or could have someone get him a drink of water.

He’d shown Constantine the missed call logs from Amity Park, and the magician swore in ways that made Bruce see flashes of colour.

(That might have been the concussion talking, but Bruce could remember the almost buzzing swearwords he’d heard from Sam Manson and wasn’t sure. Nothing could be trusted.)

Not at the volume of the logs, that hadn’t surprised him. No, Constantine had gotten serious when Bruce shared the logs Tim had first shown him.

‘Earth is gone. The sky is green and Earth is gone.’

“Alright, that? That’s very fuckin’ bad,” the magician grumbled, reaching into his pocket for a flask for the first time since he’d arrived.

At least it wasn’t another goddamn cigarette. Little fucking meow meow magician.

(Bruce wasn’t quite sure what that one meant, but Steph usually said it with enough derision it had to apply.)

“So I assumed,” he gritted out, jaw clenching against another pang of pain.

Constantine levelled him with a blank stare. Bruce made a conscious effort to relax his face. The tensing wasn’t helping anyway.

“No, Batman. I mean really, really not fuckin’ good. They never called again?” He asked, and the sudden gravity in his voice sunk through layers of ache and irritation.

He sounded as serious as he’d been about the oath. That definitely wasn’t good.

Bruce shook his head, scrolling demonstratively to the end of the file.

“Not after this cluster of messages, all within the same day.”

Tim had all sorts of explanations for that. Bruce fervently hoped he was right and it was just pique on the part of Amity Park; he’d take them being angry with the League over anything else.

Especially anything that made John Constantine look that serious.

“An’ the town’s still there?” He asked, like that was a reasonable question.

Except… Bruce suddenly wasn’t sure. There were alumni from Amity Park, people who’d moved away, but the sheer lack of online information about the town itself…

They hadn’t even been able to get a clear satellite image.

He should have noticed that. He should have checked that. If he hadn’t been so twisted up in his worries about Jason…

But no, that wasn’t fair.

Bruce closed his eyes a moment, calming himself down. Breathing through the sluggish throb at his temples.

None of their Amity Parkers talked about the town like it was missing, or anything out of the ordinary. His children would have flagged it.

This wasn’t an oversight, but Constantine may know something that none of his family could have assumed.

He just had to get this finished. This briefing with Constantine, his report to the League, Jason… no. Sleep first, some pain killers, a more thorough scan.

Maybe a day of recovery, as soon as he could afford one. Wait until his head cleared.

Harley was right, Jason deserved the best Bruce could give him, and trying to talk to his son now would not go well. Bruce was only barely tolerating Constantine’s presence.

For all the man was alarmingly combative about this subject, he was a pussycat compared to Jason in a mood. Jason knew far more about what would hurt Bruce most.

Jason had always been what hurt Bruce most, ever since he’d held his lifeless body. Jason, and even the thought of one of his other children following him where Bruce couldn’t go.

No. He just had to get through this.

Refocusing on John-Bloody… no, that wasn’t helping either. On Constantine.

“From what we’ve gathered from people who have left Amity Park since, they still have access to the outside world.” He wasn’t quite sure what else he could commit to now.

It didn’t seem to satisfy. It didn’t satisfy Bruce either.

“Okay, but ya remember what I said about the fabric of reality bein’ swiss fuckin’ cheese around this city?” Constantine asked, his usual drawl starkly absent.

Bruce found himself tensing again. Wishing this was something he could fight.

“Yes. We haven’t been able to receive any satellite imagery of the town, nor any footage or communication online from within.”

He could pull up all the data, all the social media, but he knew Constantine wouldn’t care. It wasn’t what he’d asked for.

And sure enough, Constantine hauled himself back to his feet, striding towards the zeta tubes.

“Right. Well, guess we’re takin’ a field trip to th’ Watchtower, B-man, because you’re really not gonna like what I’d have to do to this lovely cave to get the intel I need. We’ll need every sensor you lot have, because that?”

Constantine half turned on his walk, finger jabbing at that last message. Barely even glancing in Bruce’s direction.

It felt like an accusation.

“That’s not fuckin’ good. That sounds like the Infinite Fucking Realms,” he declared darkly, trench coat billowing around him as he stalked across the cave.

Bruce almost flinched. Like he had no control over his expressions.

He needed sleep.

He needed answers. Needed to know what had happened, and what had to happen to fix it.

Needed to know they hadn’t let a half dead child take on an entire alternate dimension alone, because no matter how little he trusted the man Danny was, the thought of the child still ached.

Needed to know if that suspicion was actually justified by anything but his own inability to accept Jason’s clear. To have an unknown factor in Jason’s life.

Constantine’s reaction was one point in Bruce’s favour.

Whatever they found about the current state of Amity Park… would tell the rest.

He forced himself out of his seat to follow Constantine, hand straying to the pocket on his belt that held his emergency stimulants.

Alfred wouldn’t be pleased, the tiny pills carried an adrenaline boost that was wearing even at full health, but he needed to be sharp. Just for a few more hours.

He could pass what they learned off to Clark and Diana, and to his children when he returned. Just for a little while. A few hours.

Amity Park had gone unnoticed for years, as little as Bruce liked that fact. He could only hope that whatever threat it presented would lie dormant just a little longer.

**

Fuck the no killing rule, Jason was gonna murder Harley Quinn. And by that, yeah, he probably actually meant “seek vengeance in some small but annoying way”, but still.

He didn’t actually have a crush on Danny. It was a bit they were putting on to fuck with his nosey brothers, and it was probably a good sign that they’d apparently fooled Harley too.

But Harley was a hopeless romantic and prone to see romance where none existed, so maybe it wasn’t that good.

More importantly, Danny didn’t fucking know he was Red Hood yet. He’d have to text Harley tonight and drill that in, since she’d definitely picked up that Danny was in on the secret.

And since apparently they were all gonna be hanging out tomorrow.

He kinda wished he hadn’t brought it up. That Harley hadn’t asked.

He’d monopolised so much of Danny’s time already over the break, three full days and they still had to make that run back to Frostbite.

Danny must have had some other plans. Something he actually wanted to do with his time instead of just following Jason around.

The gala had been fun though. And so had today, it just… Jason couldn’t help feeling he was being too needy. Too clingy, with a guy he’d known for all of a week, if you were generous.

Being around Danny made him feel like himself for the first time in fucking years, and he knew what he’d have given up for that.

He didn’t want to be too much. Too pushy. Didn’t want Danny to get sick of hanging out with him so soon, and leave him right back where he’d been; bitter, angry, and alone.

At least Danny didn’t seem to be thinking too much about Harley’s parting shot. There was definitely something on his mind, but they hadn’t actually unlinked arms.

Jason could feel his aura.

Concern-worry-worry.

Shit, they hadn’t fucking unlinked arms. Should they? Should Jason have? For fucks sake he was literally clinging to the guy, this was fucking ridiculous, he should just.

But Danny hadn’t pulled away.

It’d be weird to pull away now.

Jason managed to keep himself distracted in that little spiral all the way to the garage he’d parked his bike in. Danny waited until they left the manor’s grounds to speak again though, arms tightening around Jason’s chest.

“Pull over a sec?” He called above the wind, and Jason very firmly did not let that pitch him further. He pulled over, still firmly in the heights and far from any living souls.

Unless theirs counted. Probably not.

He dropped the kickstand and pulled off his helmet, hoping Danny just wanted to talk. Maybe ask him to make his excuses to Harley.

Ask Jason to drop him at the university and not follow him home. That’d make sense. He didn’t need a wayward puppy.

He didn’t actually get off the bike. Didn’t want to give up Danny’s arms wrapped around him, even if it was just for expedience.

And maybe realised that wasn’t a great idea when Danny rested his cheek on Jason’s back and a warm wave of relax-safe-reassurance threatened to swallow him.

“I know what you’re thinking about,” Danny admitted softly, and Jason damn near bolted. Barely heard the next words, which…

Well.

He knew Danny tended to overlook things. But it turned out he could be pretty damn perceptive too.

“She’s gonna be okay, you know. Cass. I can feel her anywhere in the city if I try, and I’ll know if something happens to her.”

And just like that, the pit dropped out of Jason’s stomach.

He’d been trying not to think about it. Pretended he didn’t know what she’d be doing when she left, out in the city, one fucking accident from being like him.

Even worrying about Danny getting sick of him was better than that.

She might not even need the pit to bring her back this time. Gotham had a fuck ton of native ectoplasm even for a city; it couldn’t not.

Ectoplasm was made of and attracted to raw emotional energy. For all that people died every day in the city, more were born or moved in to join their ranks.

Gotham would be a metaphorical ghost town if they hadn’t, instead of the literal version slowly creeping across the city’s vigilantes.

From the rogues’ overdramatic schemes to the peoples’ undercurrent of rage and defiant joy, Gotham seethed with emotion. Most of the dead didn’t stay to use the ecto up, and every rogue attack brought a fresh wave.

Not clean ectoplasm like the realms, but tainted with their individual torments, the fierce glee, the desire to burn, it all churned into an ambient ectoplasm Danny swore he’d never seen in another city.

And that defiant spirit, the Gotham je ne sais quoi that made people put up with all the rogue attacks and dangers, was powerful too. Jason had known that even as a kid.

Now, it was literally the reason he was alive.

He might have a second core filling his system with pit water, but they’d both have dried up without the boundless “fuck off” energy Gotham was built on.

He’d felt it the second he returned. He was alive in Gotham in a way he hadn’t been in Nanda Parbat, anywhere but the fucking pit. It let him think clearly.

Well.

Apparently Danny let him think clearly. That still stung. But it shouldn’t have surprised him.

He’d never been much of anything that other people didn’t make him.

It was why he didn’t really mind Clockwork trying to make him Danny’s knight within a couple hours of learning he was half dead. It was kinda what he did.

People had been using him as a weapon since he swung a tire iron at Batman himself. Protecting the guy who gave him his fucking soul back?

He’d have done that anyway, for free. And he got a kickass gun and a supernatural sense of when said asshole needed him. Honestly, easiest job of his life.

The catch would come eventually, but this whole “feeling the intent of people you talk to” thing left him way less suspicious than he still kinda felt he should be.

He’d rather that than be left nebulously owing his whole self to Danny with no way to repay him and no idea where the catch would come from.

It had just… never occurred to him that the same way Danny could reach out and find Vlad, he’d be able to find Cass. Or Jason himself, probably.

Jason hadn’t realised how tightly he’d wound himself until the pressure eased.

He sucked in a breath that seemed to fill his chest for the first time in hours, folded his arms forward onto the handlebars, and let his head rest against them.

Danny followed him down, never losing contact but his face slipping lower and lower down Jason’s back. It almost made him chuckle, imagining how they must have looked.

Actually, he did. Just a moment, a soft and almost giddy sound that he choked back immediately. He sounded… well. Not like himself.

He’d been itching since the girls left to patrol, wishing he could join them. Be Cass’s backup in the field and be sure she wasn’t going in on anything big alone.

Cass was a step beyond competent, she was exceptional and she’d been doing this for years without a shadow. On a regular day, she wouldn’t need help.

But hearing how close she was to losing her humanity and not coming back right no matter what had him on edge. He wanted to shield her, protect her from what he’d gone through.

It wasn’t that he wanted her out of the fight. The idea of asking her not to go out hadn’t even occurred to him. She could make her own choices and he’d back her with all he had.

He just absolutely fucking hated the idea that she was out there alone, while he had fucking nothing on him that’d let him go after her if she did need backup.

If she needed help, he’d have to waste time gearing up before he could go out after her. The other bats would have her back, they all would, so long as they weren’t busy too.

It wasn’t like he was anyone’s first choice for backup even now, he just.

Yeah. He might kinda get what Danny meant about his Obsession being protection. Protecting the bats was a recent addition, but Jason had burned himself out on enough missing kids since he got back to suspect.

He’d have to ask what an actual capital-letter Obsession felt like, but that would wait for another time.

Just knowing that Cass would be safe, had another pair of eyes and more powers than a Kryptonian watching her back made him feel like he could breathe again.

Even knowing that though, he was glad to have left the manor. He could take Danny home, suit up, and… wait.

Danny had no choice but to move back as he straightened, half turning to frown down at the smaller man.

“Is that why you wanted to leave?” He asked quietly, gauging Danny’s face.

Had Danny worked it out on his own? Felt him stressing out about his baby sister back in the field?

Did Danny know that Jason wanted to join her, if not necessarily which costume he wore, and cut his night short?

Would Danny do that for him?

The answer was obvious in the other man’s face as Danny shrugged, even before he spoke.

“I didn’t wanna put you on the spot, and I figured you’d rather get out of there,” he explained casually, leaning just a little into Jason. Enough to feel what warmth Danny had.

Jason hesitated for a long moment, not sure what to say. If he should thank Danny. If Danny would ask, and if Jason should tell him he was the Red Hood now.

It’d be weirder the longer he didn’t mention it. Like he was keeping a secret.

The same secret Danny had kept as a teenager, so at least he’d probably understand, but Jason didn’t like how it felt. He wasn’t fucking ashamed of being the Red Hood.

He’d done shit no one else ever could have, and every inch of his territory was safer than it had ever been without him. He was proud of what he’d done, even if he wouldn’t brag about his methods.

It worked. It got him where he was today, where he didn’t need to kill anymore because people turned tail at the hint of his damn name.

He still didn’t know how Danny felt about killing. It wasn’t something that came up in conversation much. Maybe he’d find a way to ask first.

Tonight, he managed a stiff nod and leaned a little of his own weight back into Danny. Even if the guy thought he was just gonna go home and mope there instead, it was a win.

“Thanks,” he said softly, half wishing for his helmet’s voice modulator. He didn’t like hearing his own voice sound so… vulnerable.

Danny, fucking angel of mercy that he was, chuckled softly and gave him a gentle tap upside the head.

“Yeah, well. Also wasn’t sure how the others would react to “99% of you are permanently on my radar” anyway, and I wanted to make sure you knew for Cass,” he explained cheerfully.

And yeah, Jason still hadn’t really processed that yet, and wasn’t even sure how he’d react. Smart fucking call on Danny’s part.

Chuckling under his breath, Jason shook his head and flipped the kickstand back up.

“Anything else before I take you to bed?” He asked, half teasing Danny’s own unfortunate choice of words earlier.

They were absolutely still fucking with his family to think this was some kind of romantic relationship. Maybe a bit to punish Bruce, who clearly couldn’t handle the idea of Jason happy.

Danny laughed, a hint of something Jason almost identified behind it, then settled himself more firmly against Jason’s back, hanging on properly again.

“Not a damn thing. Oh, are you gonna come pick me up tomorrow or do I make my own way to the manor to join you and Harley?” He asked, snugged up tight.

Jason had almost forgotten that was happening. Apparently. And suddenly he was glad for at least the motorcycle helmet as his cheeks flushed pink.

Fuck he’d say he was trailing after Danny like a puppy, except Danny was the one going where Jason needed to be.

Another excuse to get Danny on his bike, arms around him.

Fuck off Jason Todd, Romance Heroine. It was a goddamn jailbreak, if a legal one. Not a fucking meet cute.

“If you actually want to come,” he agreed a little hesitantly, because the voice that insisted he was just a burden and Danny was only humouring him wasn’t all displacement activity after all.

Or pit related, apparently. Delightful.

He coulda tried to pretend it was, but that had been more convincing back when it was always a background grumble of anger, not the little calm pool of happiness now sitting in his gut.

Unforeseen side effect of getting his toxic sludge cleaned up: he was gonna have to own some of his own bullshit now. Work out what was his and what wasn’t.

Danny leaned back a little, grip loosening, and Jason could feel concern like a whisper soft touch.

“Yeah… I would, if you don’t mind? It seems like he’s important to you.”

Jason wasted a moment trying to work out what the hell Danny meant by that.

Did he want to meet Croc cuz he was important to Jason? Or did he think Jason wouldn’t want him to if he was important?

Cuz while yeah, Jason considered Waylon a friend (and thanks, Harley, for the new name crisis, love that. The guy introduced himself as Killer Croc but Jason knew all about controlling a narrative) it wasn’t like he was family. Not like Dick, Cass, or the others.

Except. Roy was family. Long before any of the bats made it back into Jason’s good books, Roy was one of the first people to be happy Jason was alive.

And Waylon had helped Roy get help when Ollie fucking kicked him out.

Waylon had been a restraining hand on Jason’s shoulder too, in the bad old days. Keeping him from pushing too hard, going too big, doing something he really couldn’t come back from.

Family didn’t have to mean annoying texts at four AM. Didn’t have to come around for dinner every Sunday; how often did any of them really see Harley?

Fuck, how often would they have seen each other if Alfred didn’t have them all firmly under his culinary thumb.

Waylon had to count as a reliable old uncle at least.

And that kinda made it a different question. Did Jason want Danny to meet his family?

It had been an easy “yes” with the bats, not least because the nosy bastards would muscle their way in regardless. Croc…

Waylon never judged Jason. From his highest highs to lowest lows, he never looked down on him. Not even when he was telling Jason to stop and think.

It kinda made Jason ache for what his life should have been. His, and Waylon’s if he’d never been called Killer Croc.

And maybe it’d give Jason a read on how Danny would react to the Red Hood thing. Or whether or not Danny already knew.

Jason was gonna blame Bruce for this chronic overthinking. Definitely not something he’d had on his own.

He’d thought about it long enough that he could feel Danny tensing, and he forced himself to snap out of it. In all honesty, it wasn’t his business what Danny thought he’d get out of it.

In the end, there was no point second guessing what someone else wanted to do with their time. It was Danny’s call. Not his.

And that kinda helped.

He half shrugged, leaning back into Danny for a moment and tugging him forwards again.

“I mean, we’re not “Thanksgiving at each others’ houses” close, but… he’s helped me out since I came back. More than I expected anyone to. I don’t mind if you wanna meet him,” Jason explained.

Danny obediently moved back into position to go, his aura a gentle hum of curiosity-concern-interest at Jason’s back.

“So do I make my own way, or…”

“I’ll come get you, probably around eleven?” Jason offered, definitely NOT thinking about Danny being back in this same position very soon.

He was gonna have to get another helmet for the bike. Immortal Ghost King or not, it just felt rude at this point.

**

After Danny and Jason left, Tim, Harley, and Tucker played a few more rounds of Mariokart together. Switched to a couple other games. Damian abandoned them almost immediately, disappearing half way through a round.

Probably to start a patrol of his own, or go try to spy on Danny and Jason.

Eventually Harley wished both the boys well and headed out with a cheery wave.

“Right, maybe I’ll see ya tomorrow or maybe not, have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she called cheerfully, then paused and pointed at Tucker. “An’ keep an eye on Tim. Make sure he sleeps.”

Tim rolled his eyes, not looking up from their new round of SpiderHeck to wave her off. Tucker did, and Tim took advantage to swing across the map and cut him down with a lightsaber.

Amateur.

“Huh? Oh, sure! Fucking hell Tim,” Tuck complained as his attention switched back to the defeat screen.

Tim snickered, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs.

“Hey, not my fault you can’t keep your head in the game,” he teased smugly. Tucker poked him in the face.

“Not my fault I have enough manners to look at people when they talk to me. So is Harley gonna be staying in the manor too?” He added curiously, glancing around.

They easily had the rooms for it, though Tim didn’t really wanna think about it. What might Harley get up to on a 2am snack run?

Although it wasn’t that far from 2am now.

“I don’t think so, she has a place in the city at the moment,” he mused, his mind beginning to shift.

It wasn’t that he’d been waiting for witnesses to clear out, exactly. Everyone was in on the secret, so it shouldn’t be a big deal to head down to the Bat Cave even when they had the larger group.

It was just… they’d been having fun. It’d be rude to leave their guests, and Bruce was already being cranky down in the cave.

Of course, Tim’d gotten another ping on his zeta tube monitoring program an hour or so ago. Constantine and Bruce both checking out, probably to the Watchtower.

So it’d be safe now, and they’d reached an okay stopping point. Tim had no doubt that Tucker would prefer checking out the cave over any games.

Tim couldn’t let him on the bat computer yet, but he could show Tucker a couple of Tim’s better scanning programs. Maybe even ping Babs and see how the others were doing.

See if she had time to talk to Tucker in person. Maybe he could show them both how he’d encrypted that server, which Tim suspected would involve ectoplasm.

Not like he couldn’t link the PDA to an un-networked monitor so that they could all see what he was doing though. Hell, they could record it for Bruce.

He’d love having answers to the Amity Park problem. If Tucker would let Tim run the PDA for a few minutes…

Still, it was just good manners to check in.

Alfred would be thrilled that they were learning to communicate.

Pulling out his phone, he shot Bruce a quick text.

‘Hey, we’re gonna head down to the Cave. You mind if I give a tour?’

It didn’t take long to get a reply, which was usually a good sign. It meant Bruce wasn’t hyperfocused enough to ignore his phone.

Maybe things with Constantine were going well.

The length of the reply wasn’t as reassuring, but not a surprise either. Bruce wasn’t exactly wordy in person, and only less so over text.

‘Go ahead.’

No indication of when he’d be back, but that was fine. They could compare notes whenever that turned out to be.

Tim turned to Tucker, grinning in anticipation of the other man’s reaction.

“So, wanna see something cool?” He asked, and felt gratified when Tucker’s eyes widened and a matching grin spread across his face.

But who wouldn’t be excited to see the Bat Cave?

“Hell yeah!”

**

Tucker followed Tim eagerly out of the games room, mind already buzzing with all the things the young genius might want to show him.

Did they have a tech lab in Wayne Manor? They definitely had the space for it, and it had to be safer than keeping one at Tim’s downtown apartment.

Bruce might not have been much of a techie but Tim was personally responsible for enough big developments that he was considered a prodigy even in Tucker’s circles.

Of course the guy had the advantage of near limitless money and resources, especially after Drake Industries merged with Wayne Enterprises.

With that kinda money, Tucker himself could have revolutionised the world. But, Tuck had the advantage of the Ghost Zone and ecto tech, so he wasn’t too upset.

Especially not if Tim was really going to let him see where the magic happened.

He did nearly let out an audible groan as Tim led him into an office and activated a secret elevator in a clock. Maybe Danny had a point… maybe all billionaires were dramatic assholes.

Maybe Sam had a point, and they were all evil. Maybe Tim was bringing him down to an evil lab.

Caution reluctantly seeped into Tucker’s excitement, but he fought it off sharply. Tim was a good guy, they were becoming real friends, and Tuck couldn’t believe a fellow techie would betray him.

Besides, no one in Gotham knew shit about ghost tech, or liminals. It wasn’t like Tucker would actually be in any danger from a scrawny nerd like Tim.

Even if he did have very nice shoulders. Shapely arms. An almost snatched waist that almost tipped to androgyny, but he carried it so well.

Anyway.

Tim definitely wouldn’t hurt him.

It was probably just a super secure underground tech lab, to keep anyone from stealing secrets. Tucker let himself hype up again, imagining the kind of security measures Tim could install underground.

It’d remove the chances of someone sneaking through a back window for sure. And sure, rock wouldn’t stop a ghost, but it stopped pretty much anyone else if you added seismic sensors.

It made sense, really, putting all Tim’s very coolest and most secret cutting edge tech experiments somewhere that no one would expect, and almost no one could get to.

Tucker found himself rocking forward on his toes as the elevator descended, and flushed a little when he noticed Tim smiling.

He was excited, sue him. It beat worrying that he was about to get his first go at the Danny Fenton Lab Experience.

Thankfully no one ever cared enough to capture the nerds.

Tim was quiet on the way down, clearly savouring the anticipation, and that suited Tucker fine. It wasn’t a long ride, and he all but bounced out of the doors as soon as they opened.

Stopped.

Stared around at blank stone walls, stalactites on the ceiling, and… a waterfall? A robotic dinosaur? A row of display cases?

This was not a super cool high tech research lab.

This kinda might be a supervillain cave.

Tucker’s heart sank for a moment, especially as he noticed more and more Batman themed pieces on walls and cases.

Bruce Wayne (please don’t let it be Tim’s secret project any more, Tucker couldn’t bear it) was obsessed with Batman. Collecting trophies.

Probably wanted to catch the hero himself and stuff him in a case. Rich people were all like that apparently.

Except… the locker room? Off to one side? Where a freshly laundered Red Robin uniform hung, neat and pristine?

Collector freaks never let anyone clean their stuff, especially if it might have had gross hero sweat to obsess over.

And that was the Batmobile, parked next to a large garage door. An array of motorcycles, and Tucker was no expert on Gotham’s heroes but there were at least three colour schemes.

Someone had been changing the oil on one of them.

A massive computer screen, surrounded by smaller screens at various angles, and as he approached in awe he spotted a bat sticker on almost every monitor.

No way anyone ever stole THE Batcomputer. People would notice. Someone would talk, there were legends about Batman’s set up!

Half Tucker’s class would have killed for a look at the tech, no way they wouldn’t know if it ever got loose.

Which meant.

Tucker knew his jaw had dropped. Couldn’t find it in himself to close it as he turned back to Tim, eyes wide, and watched all colour drain from the other man’s face.

“Is this the fucking Bat Cave?! Is Bruce Fucking Wayne actually Batman?!” He exclaimed eagerly, not even wondering why Tim suddenly looked so shocked.

This really was the best day ever.

Wait.

“You DO know the fucking Oracle!”

**

Well.

The curse of Robin had come for Tim at last. Bruce was absolutely going to fucking kill him.

But, okay, in his defence, it totally wasn’t Tim’s fault! He’d assumed Tucker already knew because Danny one thousand percent definitely did, he called Dick out in costume!

And Tucker was still trustworthy! Still an asset! And he’d help Tim get past the firewalls, get into Amity Park, all they had to do was get enough work done before Bruce came back.

And killed Tim.

For bringing an unknowing civilian into the fucking bat cave.

Best day ever.

Tim sucked in a great rasping breath, suddenly aware that he’d completely stopped breathing somewhere in there, and shook his head.

Okay. Snap out of it Tim.

Those nights with Alfred-supervision had made him weak, no way only thirty-six hours without sleep should have done this to him.

Too bad, sleep deprivation would have been a great excuse.

He wasted a moment lamenting his lack of immediate coffee and turned his focus to the actual problem: the Amity Park firewall.

Tucker was still staring at him in awe and triumph, though worry was creeping in. Tim pulled on a charming smile, walking to the batcomputer and gesturing for Tucker to join him.

“Uh… yeah, sorry, I thought Danny already told you or I’d have said. I didn’t mean to spring it on you,” he lied, like he’d have ever let the secret slip.

Tucker pouted then, folding his arms.

“Oh, of course Danny knows. Bet that’s how he and Jason met. So does that mean you’re…” he trailed off curiously, clearly hoping Tim would fill in the blank.

Tim considered being mildly offended that Tucker didn’t think he could be Oracle, but he valued his digital security. Zero chance Babs wouldn’t be pulling this video up later for a laugh.

He nodded to his suit instead, the new one hanging waiting. Probably for tomorrow night at this point, since there was no reason to change just to hang out in the cave.

“Red Robin. I ah… saw you last night at the gala,” he added sheepishly, wondering just how much of Tim’s minor breakdown Tucker had noticed while waiting to give Tim the tablet.

And Tucker’s eyes lit up, clearly remembering, and he grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Oh! That explains why you left, huh? I guess someone had to deal with the rogues and stuff,” he mused thoughtfully.

Tim had to hope he wasn’t thinking about the exact same thing. At least the discovery was going well so far; Tim couldn’t think of many people he’d had to share this particular secret with, and most of the ones who did had been villains at one time or another, but still.

Tucker was keeping up, wasn’t freaking out, and had gotten over his surprise in record time. Tim definitely wasn’t disappointed.

Tuck had been a vigilante himself after all, it’s not like he was a civilian. And had already admitted he didn’t pay much attention to vigilantes, so he might not even know which one Red Robin was.

It’d just. Have been nice if he was more impressed.

Not that Tim cared. He wasn’t Red Robin to impress people, and usually didn’t even think about it.

And Tucker didn’t seem surprised or upset when Tim steered him to one of the tables beside the batcomputer instead of the big baby itself, and got one of the un-networked monitors out.

“Pretty much. I get a little… antsy if a takedown goes too easily, because with Riddler it usually means we’re missing something,” he explained dryly, pointing Tucker to a second wheely chair to pull over, “but yesterday it was apparently just a shitty rush job on his part.”

Tucker snickered at that, wheeling the directed chair over and sitting eagerly beside Tim, still darting looks at the bigger screens.

“Should I be mad I didn’t get their best work?” He mock-pondered, and Tim snickered.

“Probably. But Riddler and Croc aren’t really A-listers or big on the mass destruction side anyway.”

“Waylon,” Tucker corrected almost absent mindedly, pulling out his PDA.

Tim missed exactly what he did next as he remembered Harley’s little tidbit, and he pulled a face.

“Yeah… I’ve not exactly had the one-on-one time with him Jason’s had, I don’t think we’re on a first name basis,” he explained, shaking his head as the monitor sprung to life.

Tucker snorted a laugh, flicking through screens on the PDA.

“What, Mr Jones then? Want me to just start downloading the Amity Park records first, then we’ll go hunting?” He added, and Tim nodded quickly, snickering himself at the vision.

Nothing threw a shining ball of confusion into a fight like calling someone “Mr Jones”. He’d have to try it if Croc… Mr Jones was gonna be back on the scene.

It was the name that went on all of his prison paperwork, so it wasn’t like it was a secret identity the same way the bats had.

“Honestly? Better than Waylon. And yeah, we can start with the government files and news reports, just so we have a backup. Then we’ll look around and find out what else B thinks we’ll need.”

Tucker snickered beside him, flicking quickly through screens on the PDA. Despite it being purely for his benefit, Tim pretty much ignored the monitor, keeping most of his attention on the device itself.

It was chunky and very retro, but given the processing power and space for storage? There was a definite charm to it.

Maybe Tucker would let him play around on it later.

But, in the spirit of not being killed when Bruce returned… there was one thing they definitely needed to talk about.

“I…” Tim sucked in a deep breath. He’d put good money on Tuck, Danny, and Sam being what actually solved Amity Park’s last calls to the League.

It might be a traumatic memory. Probably was. But he had to ask. And better him than Bruce.

Tucker looked up when he trailed off, making a curious noise. Not exactly asking what Tim wasn’t saying, but showing he’d noticed the pause.

Sighing to himself, Tim wheeled across to the batcomputer. Bruce probably still had the files up.

“I also think we need to talk about these,” he explained, pulling up the records for the Justice League’s missed calls. Hundreds of them.

Tucker just looked nonplussed for a moment, then sobered. Probably when the dates sank in and told him what they were talking about.

“Oh… yeah. Probably,” he agreed, sounding more serious than Tim had ever heard him. Which kinda proved Tim’s point about traumatic memories.

Leaving the records on screen, Tim wheeled back over, pulling out one of his larger recorders. This conversation might take a while.

“Do you mind if I just record what you tell me? B’s gonna want a full write up. He’s off ripping a strip off of Constantine as we speak, probably, cuz whatever he did… this lot went past voice mail and straight to the trash.”

It wasn’t exactly an apology, wasn’t exactly an excuse, and Tim cut himself off before it turned into whining. The past was past, and it was too late to change that now.

Something complicated crossed Tucker’s face as he spoke, and Tim tried not to look too closely. Didn’t want his overly analytical side latching on.

The only thing they could do was work out what happened, and if there was still anything the league could do to make up for majorly dropping the ball.

Tucker sucked in a deep breath of his own, letting it out in a low whistle.

“Y’know, I thought we were coming down here for fun and tech talk,” he said almost wistfully, and Tim chuckled wryly.

“We can definitely still do that. It’ll just unknot Bruce’s panties some if we’ve got this part out of the way before he gets back. That way you’re just telling me, no “swooping menace in the shadows”,” he added half sarcastically, and Tucker laughed.

He looked… well. Haunted. But that wasn’t exactly a sensible descriptor for a guy who spent years hunting ghosts.

Not too bad though. No tremors, no tightness in the eyes or jaw that said he was hiding something. His skin was still a rich, warm brown, no paler than before.

If he was having a deeper reaction than the tiredness, he was hiding it in a way Tim couldn’t hope to spot. That… was probably the best sign Tim had seen about this particular shit show.

Chuckling to himself, Tucker checked the PDA one more time, then set it on the table and turned to face Tim directly.

“Yeah, might as well do it during the file download. Your setup is gorgeous, but that’s still gonna take a while. If you ask me, you’re not gonna need to ask Danny about it later, right?” He asked, and Tim bit his lip.

Less good sign. Seemed Danny carried more of the weight of this one too.

“B’ll probably want his side, and to check the stories match, but Jason won’t let him push Danny into anything,” he offered instead of a blanket statement.

Tucker cocked his head a little, examining Tim for a long moment in a way that made him feel almost… dissected. Like a piece of tech Tucker had taken apart, and was looking for secrets in.

Finally the older boy nodded and shrugged, leaning back.

“Yeah, fair. It’s damn hard to pin Danny down if he wants to leave anyway. There’s some Fenton tech that’d do it, but it’s not like you can get that here. So… where do you want me to start?”

Filing away that comment about the Fenton tech for later, Tim jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the big screen.

“Do we have time to start at the beginning? The first calls?” He asked, half expecting the answer to be “no”.

Tucker glanced down at his PDA, and snickered.

“Well, I can give you the Cliff’s Notes version. And then if you have questions you can ask?”

Which… yeah, Tim glanced at their little offline monitor. It was a pretty big download; Tucker had meant it when he said he was grabbing everything for them.

That had to be a sign of good faith, right?

And then after that they’d have to shift everything over to an un-networked hard drive. After whatever Tuck had to do to de-ecto it.

Shoulders settling, Tim put the recorder on the table before him.

“Sounds good. So… Tucker Foley, current top student at MIT and soon to be receiver of a Wayne Enterprises internship,” he teased, enjoying the way Tucker snickered again, also visibly relaxing.

Might as well make this as comfortable as possible. They could break after Tucker finished for some drinks or something.

“What happened in Amity Park?”

**

On the Watchtower, Bruce slid his phone back into its pouch on his utility belt and returned his attention to the pacing magician.

He’d pulled up every type of reading they could gather from Amity Park for the week of the last distress call, and from their current logs.

Thermal imaging, infrared and ultraviolets, seismography, electromagnetic waves, spectrography, and several that Bruce wasn’t sure what they were, just that the Justice League Dark were the only ones who used them.

The fact that even Bruce could see extremely obvious spikes on more than half of them was not a good sign. It made checking the dates almost superfluous.

Nor was the way that even though those spikes had lowered within that same day… they’d never gone all the way back down.

In every magical sense they could detect (and half a dozen scientific ways he was actually comfortable with), Amity Park glowed like a cartoon nuke.

The only good news was that their radiation sensors had gone straight back down to normal after the initial spikes. Which made no scientific sense given the normal decay of radioactive materials, but Bruce was not going to argue.

He appreciated Tim checking in though. The gesture towards clearer communication. He wasn’t sure exactly what Tim would want to show Harley in a tour of the bat cave, but honestly?

He wasn’t going to ask. It was nice to have something that wasn’t his problem, and he trusted Tim and Harley, together or separately.

It wasn’t like Tim would bring anyone else down to the cave.

——————

😇

I regret nothing.

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Next Chapter:

[gretavangroupie]

Valor (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jake x Reader, Daniel x Reader

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin', Allusions to Drug Use. Angst: Struggle and Poverty, Emotional Manipulation, Abandonment, Jealousy, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Fighting, Blood, Mentions of Death, Mention of Suicide, Suicidal Actions, Crying, Heavy Angst, Allusions to Shady Activities, Coercion, Gambling, Betting. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Petting, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Penetrative Sex.

Valor Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A new project in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

HER POV

“I want details.” You demanded, determined to understand at least why they were keeping you so involved. 

They both gave you almost the exact same look, half-agitated and half-understanding they had to at least give you something. Jake cleared his throat first. 

“My dad…passed away seven years ago, and when he did, he left behind more than this shop.” Jake drew on his cigarette, readjusting in his seat as he talked. “Ace had a bad gambling problem, so bad that it put him in more debt and more depression than I really ever knew about. He used to hold these poker games for fun, until he started losin’ money, and started making more enemies than he did friends. Shit started to go south really quick. Honestly, it was a lot worse then, than it is now. The law was involved, dirty cops were playin’ cards one night and harassing my dad the next, drifters started to come around and threaten him while he was working…it was an overall unsafe environment for me and Danny.” He went on. 

“Wait.” You interrupted, trying to grasp everything. “Danny, you were always here?”

He nodded. “Yup, I uh, I started off in foster care, but…no one ever wanted to keep me. I was always getting into trouble and fightin’ in school… Jake was my best friend. I stayed here more than I stayed at home…most of the time my foster parents never even knew where I was. But Ace took care of me, when he could hardly even take care of Jake. So one day, it was Thanksgiving, I think. I just…never left. I was still just a kid. Started watching every move Ace made mechanicin’. Taught myself how to fix shit.” He ended the story with a harsh swallow. You knew that was something he didn’t share often. 

You couldn’t help but smile, realizing a little bit more how close these two actually really were. Raised as brothers. 

“So anyway, after my dad died, I was left with all this shit…all the money he owed to people fell into my lap. Not to mention all the other bullshit…the bills, the overdue payments, taxes…he was drowning then, and we’re drowning now.”

“And Teddy, he’s been playing cards here since I can remember.” Danny explained. 

“Teddy…” you repeated. 

“Yeah. He’s the one that called yesterday, he arranges the games. My dad owed him so much money, we’re still paying it back. We have to listen to him when he calls, we don’t have a choice. Every time we have a game and either of us wins, we give him the money. Right off the bat. It’s fuckin' horrible.”

“Well how long until he’s paid off?” You asked. 

“We’ve barely even made a dent, unfortunately.” Jake said, tamping his cigarette out on the floor between his boots. “It’s rare that either of us win.”

“Okay, well things are making a little more sense, I guess…” you could tell they were holding back on all the details, probably sparing you from knowing too much at one time. “So where do I come in, why are you hiding me?”

Jake took a deep breath, and leaned his elbows down on his knees, looking you directly in the eyes.  “You’re collateral. You’re fresh meat. They know that if…they can get to you, they can use you.” 

You felt your stomach drop to the floor. “Use me for what?”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “To get to me.”

You looked back at Jake, staring each other down as you let it sink in. To get to me… You shook your head. “But that…doesn’t make any sense. Why would they think I mattered to you, at all?” 

You watched a tiny grin form on both of their faces. “They know we’re protective. They know you’ve been hanging around us…and honestly, I bet they know you have money.” Danny chimed in. “Y/N, how much are you payin’ for your motel room?”

“Uh, thirty-five a night, why?” You answered. 

“Are you fuckin' kidding me?!” Jake sat back in his seat as he and Danny exchanged knowing looks of ‘thought so.’

“Wanda.” Danny said, his voice seething. 

“I thought it was steep, but she didn’t give me a choice in the room, said it was all she had—”

“I bet she watched you pull your cold hard cash from your wallet, too, didn’t she?” Danny asked. “Watched you count it out?”

“Y-yeah…so?”

“So,” Jake tried to explain. “Wanda is friends with Teddy’s crew. Christ…She fuckin' told them you had money…they sent Tanya down here to get concrete evidence you were with us…that’s why he called the poker game. They want your money, Y/N. On top of our money. And they know that they can get paid a whole lot quicker if they get a hold of you…they know we would pay up if it was you on the line…”

Your eyes were stuck open at all of the information, trying to soak everything in as it was fed to you. 

“Me on the line…so, so you’re saying they might try to…to kidnap me? Hold me for ransom or something?” You could hardly get the words out. 

Danny nodded slowly while Jake massaged his palms. “Or worse.”

“Worse? What the fuck could be worse?!” You yelled, leaning off of the countertop. Danny stood from the chair, walking over to calm the storm he knew was brewing inside you. You felt him wrap his arms slowly around your neck, in a completely non-sexual way, knowing that if you needed to feel anything right now, it was comfort. 

“We don’t intend on letting you find out. And we don’t intend on giving them the satisfaction of winning like that.” He said, his voice laced with promise. You opened your eyes and peered over Danny’s shoulder, locking eyes with Jake as he nodded his head in agreement. 

“I’ve only been here for like two days, guys…you don’t owe me anything, I just want to get the hell out of here, I never wanted to bring all this trouble…” you felt like you were on the verge of tears, feeling guilty that you inadvertently made their situation worse. 

“You didn’t bring any trouble, Y/N. They’re bad men with bad reputations and shit lives. Teddy’s going to die wanting to bring me strife. It’s like he gets off on the shit…” Jake said, his voice trailing off as he looked at the wall behind you. Danny let go of your shoulders. 

“What, Jake? What is it?” His eyes were glued to the calendar that hung on the wall behind you. 

“Nothing. Today Saturday?” His face had gone completely white, stark as the smoke that bellowed from his cigarette. 

“Yeah, it is…” Danny took your hands in his. “I know it’s fucked, Y/N. It’s so fucked. And I’m so sorry you got dragged into this mess. I know you want to leave, but don’t you agree that the best place for you right now is with us? We can protect you…we know how their minds work…I’d feel so much better if you just, didn’t go back to the motel…”

He was pleading with you, and honestly at this point, you’d be terrified to be alone in that motel after learning everything you learned tonight, especially that Wanda had been snitching on your every fucking move. Bitch. 

You nodded, agreeing with Danny. As pissed off, insulted, and sick as it made you, you felt like you had no choice but to agree. “Alright. If it’s for my safety…I’ll stay here. But I’m not going to like it.” You were going to love it, as fucked as it was. “But honestly, how long? You’ve already been paying him off for 7 years…”

“Just until we figure something out. Until we fix your car, then you can disappear and let the wind carry you away, straight to Atlanta.” Danny answered with a true and genuine frown. He didn’t want you to leave. 

“Okay. But I have a couple conditions.”

They both looked at you with puzzled expressions. “You clean your disgusting, repulsive bathroom, and you both wash your sheets. Please. For the love of god.”

Sweet, sexy laughs escaped them both as they conceded, relaxing back in their chairs. “Yeah, okay. Point taken.” Danny said, holding his hand out to shake yours. “It’s a deal, Miss Thing.”

“Good. Thank you. I’ll even make dinner tonight, for your troubles.” You offered, knowing there wasn’t much in the cabinets, but you were confident you could whip something up. 

Jake stood from his chair, still looking a little pekid from whatever he noticed about the calendar earlier. He held his hand out to shake yours, too. “One clean bathroom, coming up.”

You began searching through the cabinets and refrigerator, finding a few potatoes and some bologna. Hmm, when all else fails, fry it. 

You pulled some oil from the cabinet, and laid out six pieces of the almost-expired bread hidden away on the counter. This will have to do. 

You’d come into this shop two and a half days ago, feeling uneasy, anxious, and unsure…and now you sat here with two of your oldest classmates as they transformed their home and business into a fortress for you to stay in, using themselves as a protective shield from the bad guys who were vying for you. 

But it didn’t feel wrong staying with Danny…you liked him. You liked him a lot. And with Jake…you felt…drawn to him. Both of them. But there was something about Danny’s touch that made you crave him; him leaving you hanging in the motel room earlier was enough to make you so sexually frustrated that you resented him for a second. 

The image of him lying on top of you under the covers was all you could think about, and you were absolutely dying to get him back in bed. The way his long, dark locks laid across his shoulders and reached all the way down to past the middle of his back, his defined features and strong jawline…the way his nose scrunched up when he smiled… all of it was stuck in your brain, burning little images that replayed over and over. 

He felt different than Peter, that much you could tell even after just the brief encounter you’d had. Like he would let you be in charge instead of only trying to appease his every little fantasy. 

And his lips on yours? Like the buzzing end of an electric wire, you could physically feel them still when he parted from you. The way his tongue felt in your mouth, his hands gripping your hips… yeah. It was decided. You wouldn’t be joining Jake in his bed again tonight. 

—

JAKE POV

The smell was familiar. One you recognized deep down in your bones. A smell that transported you back in time. You pulled your sheets from the washing machine, the lid black and dirty which was kind of ironic. You tossed them into the dryer, starting it up as the smell lured you into the kitchen. You can’t remember the last time someone that wasn’t you made a meal in this kitchen. 

You wiped your bleach-scented hands across your pants, the smell of lemon bathroom cleaner and Comet stuck in your nose. You realized your hands were cleaner than they’d been in probably years, after scrubbing away at the black ring in the bathtub. You could actually see the whiteness of your fingernails. 

As you rested your hands on a kitchen chair, you peered over to the stove watching Y/N finish frying up a pan of diced potatoes. Your stomach growled and your mouth watered as you watched her, completely unknowing you were standing behind her. 

Danny steps out of the hallway and into the kitchen, his voice startling both of you. “Damn, it smells good in here. I’m starving.” He walks up behind Y/N, peeking over her shoulder as his hand squeezes her hip. He turns to grab a few paper plates, placing them on the counter for her before taking a seat in the old wooden chair. 

You swung around and sat yourself in your own chair, once again letting your eyes drift over to the calendar on the wall. Seven years today. Seven years, Ace. You lean on your fist, twirling the worn metal zippo between your fingers. Rubbing your thumb over the engravings, hand carved by the man himself. It was all you really had left of him, taking it from his pocket that day, giving it a home in yours ever since. Your heart sank the more you thought about it, which is why you didn’t ever let yourself. You always did everything in your power to forget this day, never give it the chance to crush you like this, but this year, lucky number seven… It got you. 

“Alright, it’s ready!” she said, spinning around with two paper plates filled with fried potatoes and fried bologna sandwiches. That was it. That was the smell. Fried bologna. Your dad’s fucking favorite. Of course, today of all days. 

“Shit this looks good, haven't had fried bologna in forever!” Danny says, grabbing the sandwich and taking a bite. She grabs her own plate and sits between the two of you, stabbing her fork into a potato as you just stare down at the plate in front of you. You’re stuck. Frozen. Your stomach telling you to eat but your mind suddenly rushing with memories you’d pushed down for years. It hurt. They hurt.

Not wanting to draw attention to yourself you picked up the sandwich, and held it to your mouth, slowly taking a bite as Y/N and Danny chatted about nothing. You wished you could turn off the instant replay in your mind of the last time you sat at this table eating with your dad. It hit you like a ton of bricks that now felt as if they settled in the pit of your stomach. 

The thing about Ace though, was that he never really told you how to live your life. He just let you live it watching him, and hoping you’d learn from his mistakes. What you didn’t expect, was that his mistakes would in turn become your own burden. You hated him for what he did. You hated that he left you to clean up his mess. You hated that you no longer had a family of your own. Just Daniel, and Daniel, you. That was okay though, the two of you had each other and that was better than nothing. You weren’t sure you’d ever forgive Ace, not for leaving you, but for letting your mother leave you before you ever even got a chance to know her. That was unforgivable.

You finished the last bite of your sandwich, completely spaced out as you stared off at the wall, just letting the memories ravage your consciousness, when suddenly it all just felt like too much. You started to feel suffocated by the thoughts, the room you were in suddenly feeling too hot, and too small. Your chest started to tighten and your throat felt small. You pushed your chair back and snatched your plate from the table, tossing it in the trash can as you offered a quick ‘thank you’ to Y/N. Your feet carried you out into the garage, as your hands found the light switch.  

The buzzing of the fluorescent lights calmed you a bit. Your eyes caught sight of Valor, and huff of air left your chest. A pristine 1968 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Hardtop, Tuxedo Black with a standard 396 Horsepower engine, all hidden under a dusty beige colored canvas tarp.  

Just keep your mind busy. Do what you know. You walked over to the covered car, letting your hand hover over the cover, grabbing a fist full of the fabric and yanking it off with a scream. Your eyes took her in, she was pretty, you’d give her that, but hell, maybe you would be too if someone spent all their time fixing you up. Ace sure did. Throw the football? ‘No son, we have to get Valor running. Don’t you want to hear her purr?’ You can still hear his voice perfectly, as he says it. 

You slip your hand into the polished chrome handle, pulling the door open and sliding into the white vinyl bucket seat. It hugged you in just the right way, making the driver feel like they were part of the car. One with it. You grabbed the keys from the center console, sticking them into the ignition and twisting. The engine roared to life. He’d at least gotten that far, and he was right, she sure did sound pretty when she purred. But the problem is that she wouldn’t stay running. She’d run for a little while, and out of nowhere, she’d die. And that’s where he left her, sitting right here in the middle of this garage, covered and ashamed. You could barely look at it most days, leaving the cover on for months at a time until the feeling struck, and you needed to get your anger out. You’d completely tear apart the front end, combing through every single piece searching for something, anything that could be wrong, but every time you came up empty. 

Like clockwork, she died. The smell of the carpet and old vinyl filling your senses the way it always had. A suffocating blend of raw gasoline and rich exhaust, with overtones of hot Castrol. You lived for it, in fact it was all you ever really knew. It brought you to life most days, the process of working on cars satisfying your need to fix. To tinker. To solve. You ripped the keys from the ignition and slammed the door shut behind you. The black paint was so perfectly shiny you could see your own reflection. You tossed the keys into your pocket and let your legs carry you up the metal steps to your desk, opening the till, and fingering through the stacks of cash.

You instinctively grab for a twenty, knowing it’s more than enough to cover your usual selection but shit, tonight was a celebration right? You’re getting the good shit tonight. Just for you Ace. Just like you’d do, right? You snatch a fifty from the register, slamming it shut with a ding as your feet stomp down the metal stairs and back through the house. As you cross through the kitchen you grab your keys from the counter, with the fifty still in hand, receiving puzzled looks from Y/N and Daniel. 

You meet her eyes as you watch hers drift down to the cash in your hand, an instant look of confusion crossing her face. You crumpled it up in your hand as soon as you knew she saw it, stuffing the bill in your jeans pocket. 

You know what Daniel wants to say, but you know he’s not stupid enough to say it. Her though, she has no idea, and you know she’s not afraid to speak her mind. Your eyes meet hers again for the briefest second and you wonder if she can see the pain in your eyes before you look away and head for the front door. 

—

It’s not long until you’re pulling up at the QuikStop, pulling the barred door open as the bell chimes overhead. “Well then, what’ve we got here Jacob?” old man Johnson says, taking in your appearance. “Need you a top off tonight, son?” he snickers. You tip your chin in acknowledgement as you make your way to the back wall lined with a small assortment of different liquors. Your eyes scan over the offerings, stopping short when you catch sight of the good stuff. You grab the red waxed neck of the Maker’s Mark, and make your way to the counter to purchase your poison of the evening. You were typically a Seagram’s 7 man, but tonight you were pretty much feeling like a Maker’s man, considering your body was about to filled to the brim with it. fucking anything to stop the noise in your head.

“My my, this’s not ‘chur usual, son.” he grins, knowing you’re about to fork out a pretty penny. 

“Should get the job done, you think?” you remark, pulling the fifty from your jeans pocket.

“Mighty fine this one is. Quell yer troubles, it sure will.” he says, taking it from your fingers. He gives you back a few small bills and loose coins that you shove into your pants pocket, snatching the bottle from the counter before he even has a chance to place it in a paper bag. “You have yeh’s a good night Jacob.” he calls out as your foot steps out the door into the thick humid air. 

 —

HER POV

“Thank you for dinner.” You felt Danny’s breath on the back of your neck as you scrubbed the frying pan. “Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve had a cooked meal in this place?”

His lips were trailing soft kisses down your neck onto your shoulder, making your neck crane sideways. “S’hardly a meal, Danny. Just thought you might’ve wanted somethin’ hot for a change.”

You turned to face him, scratching your nails up his pecs before wrapping your arms around his neck, hands still wet from the sink. “Mmm, I do want somethin’ hot.” His hands were under your thighs, fingertips burying in before lifting you up to sit on the countertop. He was just the right height to pull you forward a little, pressing himself directly against your core. Just that feeling alone made you weak, and hearing his harsh inhale from the contact spurred you on even more. 

You kissed him, hard, feeling that want from earlier come crashing back into you again. His hands stayed on your thighs, his finger span covering almost the entirety of your skin. You both allowed yourselves time to explore again, letting things heat up like they had before. His hand moved up to grip your hair, pulling it backwards as he trailed his mouth down your throat, nipping and biting tiny marks as he did so. 

Suddenly the temperature of the room increased tenfold and you felt your body begging you to do something, make another move. You maneuvered your hips to press yourself against him, his length feeling hard and stiff against you now. The guttural moan that escaped him sounded so carnal you could’ve taken him right then and there, but the risk of being caught was still heavy in your mind. 

“Wait… Jake could be back any minute…” you choked out, glancing to the metal door. 

“Guess we better fuckin' get to it, then.” He buried his face in your neck as he lifted you from the counter, carrying you through the kitchen and to his bedroom with ease. He kicked the door closed behind him as he drifted slowly to his bed, your mouths and hands still ripping at each other. 

His knee hit the mattress and he lowered you down with a bounce, immediately reaching for the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head. Without disconnecting your mouths, your hands anxiously fumbled around at his zipper, unbuttoning his jeans. It was like all shyness had left your body as you felt no shame in letting your hand grip his shaft, your hands burning to know what he felt like without the barrier of his boxers. 

“Fuck Y/N…I want you so bad…” he almost laughed at himself, pushing your shoulder back into the pillows. 

“Mmm, I can tell.” You grinned as your hand moved up and down his length, growing harder by the second. He rolled over and pulled his jeans off before towering over you again, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra in one swift motion. Your hand found him again, and this time you noticed just how much you were about to be dealing with. You weren’t sure your ever had someone his size before, and it made you fuckin' excited. 

Your mouths were connected in such a way that you felt like you’d never separate; both of you completely taken with the way the other tasted. Your hands came up to grip his face, running your fingers over his cheeks. “Can you please take that fuckin' ring off your finger? If I’m gonna fuck you I don’t want to be thinkin’ about you and another man.”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten you even had it on. You hesitated a second, knowing that it didn’t mean shit to you anymore, but something told you not to throw it away. You slid it off and placed it on the nightstand, out of sight and definitely out of mind. 

“Thank you. Now…let me see your body again, baby…” he mumbled, sitting back on his knees to pull your jeans and panties off. “You’re fuckin' stacked, you know that?”

Your mouth contorted into a devious grin, having never heard a man talk about you like this before. Peter never praised you, never complimented you or your looks, only took what he could get then fell asleep. 

Danny made you feel beautiful, made you feel empowered…his eyes stayed bewitched as he scanned from your thighs to your tits, all the way to your face again before leaning his mouth down, licking directly over your mound and up your stomach. 

His hands gripped around your hips, his fingertips gripping your asscheeks while his thumbs reached all the way to your groin…his hands were massive. He tilted his hands so that you were forced to arch, inadvertently spreading your legs apart a little as he did so. Just that movement alone made you feel used and in charge at the same time; just the sight of your body was sending him over the edge with want for you, and you liked it. 

His eyes met yours again, rushed and frenzied as he silently asked permission. You nodded a little, halfway unsure of what he was asking. 

“You taste as good as you look, baby?” He began to lay his body flat on his stomach between your legs, his hands pressing your muscles in that special way again, to make the display all the more visual for him. “You’re fuckin' soaked, god I bet you’re so sweet…” he muttered, running his tongue up and down the insides of your legs. 

You held back a little. You were absolutely dying for him to bury his face in you, but again, this was something that Peter had only done once or twice for you, and that was only because you’d asked him to. Essentially, this was new territory. A brand new experience, really. Coming from someone who actually wanted to do it. 

His tongue was traveling around still, teasing…exploring. “Can I taste you?” He asked, his deep brown eyes flickering up to yours as you anxiously let a hand down to grip in his hair. You nodded quickly, a barely audible ‘yes’ slipping from your lips. “Please.”

When his tongue finally buried in between your folds, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced in your life…obviously Peter had been doing it all wrong. His tongue buried, his lips enclosed around you…hitting all the right spots with such precision you felt like you were in the clouds. The burning, fiery, thunder-storming clouds. Your hand gripped his hair tighter as he pushed inside you, lapping his tongue side to side and up and down and pulling out again, then working tiny circles around your clit. 

You realized you’d been holding your breath the second Danny popped up, laughing a little bit. “Breathe, baby.” You could feel the peach fuzz around his mouth scratching against you as he smiled through his words, but it felt good. An added bonus, the slightly painful irritation making it feel even better as he glided side to side. 

You listened to his instruction as you let yourself inhale, his low growl giggle vibrating through your body. “God damnit, Danny…what the…” your knees came up around his ears, your thighs squeezing him together as you neared that sweet feeling beginning to take over your entire body. His hands were still gripped tightly around your hips and ass, holding you steadily exactly where he wanted you. 

Fuck, you loved feeling out of control.

But then, suddenly, you wanted more. Needed more. He began to bring his hand around to add his fingers, lightly toying at your entrance with his fingertips. 

“No, no.” You commanded, stopping him in his tracks. 

“What’s wrong, you okay?” He perked up. 

You pulled him up by his hair, urging him to kiss you again. “Yes I’m fine. Didn’t want you to do that, yet. I wanna feel you. It ruins the surprise.” You muttered through exhausted pants, kissing away the wetness that covered his face. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise, an impressed look of intrigue flowing over him. “Oh, fuck…alright then.”

You pushed him off you to lie flat on his back, completely caught off guard by the switch. “Take them off.” You demanded, but also reaching for the hem of his boxers yourself, to speed up the process. 

Once they were in a pile beside you, you hopped to all fours and placed one hand on either side of his head as his hands drifted from your back to your hips again. He was fighting himself, bucking his hips up into you as he tried to make contact. 

“Let me do it. Wanna feel every inch.” You spoke again, letting him know you were on top, you were calling the shots. His facial expression was already fucked out, still shining with the wetness from your arousal…you could tell you had him right where you wanted him. You reached between you, gripping his considerable length in your hand again as he tossed his head back with a groan. Your eyes caught the way the ink danced across his neck as it pulled tight. The spider web that stretched across his throat was so intricate, you felt caught in the web yourself. He clenched his jaw together when he finally looked at you, reaching a hand up to grip your hair back away from falling in his face. 

“Wanna see your face, baby. Do it, please, fuck…” he was writhing beneath you, and you could already tell he was going to be the lay of a lifetime. You teased your own entrance with his tip, tracing your wetness all around. When you finally lined up, you prepared yourself to take him in, knowing it had been a while, and this was going to be a stretch. 

You went slowly, feeling every centimeter enter you, the pain so sweet and so engulfing. When you finally bottomed out, he choked out a huffed sound so beautiful you wished you had it on film, the feeling of him all the way inside you so snug, he felt like he belonged there. 

“Jesus Christ Y/N…my god…” he purred, his tongue sticking out to wet his lips as you sat back up, slowly beginning a pace that you knew was going to absolutely kill you. He was unlike anything you had ever felt before, the perfect size, attached to the perfect body…his eyes finally looked up at you long enough to share a moment. His abdomen crunched in on itself when you bottomed out again, the top of his head resting on your shoulder as his hands guided you up and down. 

You finally let yourself find a rhythm, leaning into him and flicking your hips back as you sped up. You let your cries fill the room; suddenly you couldn’t care less if Jake walked in on you right now. It was heavenly, perfect in every sense of the word, and your insides were swirling and begging you to never let yourself stop. 

“God, please don’t stop, Y/N…right there…” he purred again, gripping your hair back as you rode him into oblivion. You leaned back a little, resting one hand on his thigh behind you while the other one balanced on his sternum. Your fingers danced dangerously close to another tattoo, one you hadn’t seen before. A scattering of words in German sat delicately over his heart. You wanted to ask him what it said, but you were scared to know, based on the location.

You felt him deep inside, simply rolling your hips forward and back as you let him take a look at the show. You felt him hitting you deeper this way, eliciting a whine from you that you were borderline embarrassed about. His hand shot to your core, his thumb rubbing over your clit as he bucked up again. “So fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N…I swear…” 

His praises tightened the knot that was already building inside you, the sound of him coming apart beneath you was enough to get you off by itself. Just as you were about to let it all go, you leaned down over him again, your mouth burying in his neck, biting into him as your sounds became more and more strangled, the overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure ripping through your body. 

The buildup was insane, it felt like it lasted for hours. You guessed he could tell that you were close as he began thrusting up into you, too. “Yeah baby…go for it…let me have it…”

The white light that encompassed your entire being came flashing before your eyes, your teeth clenching into the skin of his pec as you came undone, shaking with what had to have been the most intense orgasm you had ever had. You wanted to say his name, scream it into the air, let him know how good he felt inside you, but you couldn’t form a coherent word even if you wanted to. Everything went numb and dull for a split second as you came down, panting and crying out choked sounds as you relaxed. You continued riding him, though…wanting to bring him to his delicious climax too. 

“I’m close baby please, please don’t stop…” he begged, and suddenly his stomach was clenching, his dick twitching deep inside you still as he pulled you up off of him, grabbing himself in his hand to let his release flow over his hand and onto your stomach. You watched as his hand worked over his length, his eyes fixed on you as he came down, and slowed his hand. 

His eyebrows shot together as his facial expression showed you how good it felt, how pretty you looked with his cum on you… it wasn’t something you had ever let a man do before, but you swore in that second that if he made you feel that way for the rest of forever, you’d let him do just about whatever he damn well pleased. 

When you finally caught your breath, you smiled at one another, laughing and completely out of breath. 

“Christ, you were even better than I imagined, baby…” he huffed, letting his hands fly to either side of his body, careful not to drop the mess that was in his right hand. You laughed as you plopped down beside him, grinning from ear to ear as you left the afterglow set in. 

“I’ve never had a man make me feel so good in my life, Danny. I swear.” You admitted. 

“Really? Even when you did that to them?” He perked up in disbelief. 

You nodded. “Yeah, really. There were a couple of firsts in there.”

His eyebrows raised up. “Fuck… Well, I’m telling you, I never would’ve guessed that, baby. You are spectacular. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop wanting you like that.” He brought his face close to yours to lay a sweet, passionate kiss to your lips. 

You smiled sweetly back as he pulled away, looking back at you with the sweetest smirk as he made his way to the bathroom, and you suddenly found yourself completely unable to pull your lust filled eyes away from the perfect roundness of his ass. 

——

“This one okay?” You asked Danny, pulling an oversized t-shirt from his drawer. It was a dingy white and filled with holes and rips, but the fabric felt soft and comfortable. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” He smirked, laid out across his bed in nothing but his loose-fitting gray boxers, strumming away on a black acoustic guitar. His eyes had been transfixed on the wall across from you before you interrupted him…his fingers mindlessly crawling across the 6-string, plucking out a solemn little tune that wasn’t familiar. 

You crawled back up next to him on the bed, reaching across him to his nightstand to grab his box of smokes. “What are these, anyway?” You asked, opening the top flap. 

“…Not what the box says they are.” He let out a sweet laugh. “I roll my own. I blend together a few different types of tobacco to get the flavor I want.”

“Hm. That’s why yours always smell so much better than Jake’s, then?” You asked, pulling one out and running it underneath your nose. “They smell sweet…”

“Mmhm. Taste good too. Try it.” He let go of the neck of the guitar for a second, reaching to his table to grab his lighter. He flicked the ignitor and produced a flame for you, watching you intently as you brought the end of the cigarette to it, inhaling the sweet aroma into your lungs. Damn, he was right. 

“That’s really tasty…” you licked your lips together. “Even the paper is kinda sweet.” You hit it again before passing it back to him. 

“Yeah. Took me a while to get it just right. Came from stealin’ Ace’s half empty bags mostly.” He laughed at the memory. 

You tucked a pillow up under your arm as he began to play again, the cigarette hanging from his lips as the ash grew longer. His inked hands looked sinful dancing across the strings, and he was so natural at it. You caught a glimpse of the red and black triple’s 7’s tattooed on the inside of his pointer finger, and for some reason, you were sure you’d not seen it before. 

“Triple 7’s, huh?” You thought you had a pretty good idea of what it symbolized, but you wanted to see what his reasoning was. 

“Yeah, symbolizes good fortune and luck.” He pulled the smoke from his lips, tamping it out on the ashtray on the table. “Doesn’t really seem to be doin’ the job too well, does it?” He ended his sentence with a wink. “Not til’ you waltzed through the door at least.”

You began fingering with a loose string on his boxers. “I thought it meant the Holy Trinity...” 

“Means that too, I guess. But I stopped bein’ religious a long time ago.” 

The two of you were quiet a while, just the occasional sound of Jake banging around in the shop mixed with Danny’s tune to fill the air. 

“How long you been playin’?” You asked. 

His voice was getting groggy, sleep threatening him as the minutes ticked by. “Since I was 5 or 6 I guess, one of my foster families had one and I remember realizing it made a really pretty noise… I’d pick it up and run to my room and strum away on it to drown out the sound of them fighting. Seemed to help me not hear it. Then I started to actually like the way it felt in my hands…”

You were quiet for a second. “That why you play your music so loud now?”

His fingers stopped altogether as his eyes met yours. His face slowly contorted into a million different emotions at once before he looked back to the wall again, gently picking up where he left off. 

“Fuck, yeah…I guess it is…”

“Jake play guitar too?” You tried to change the subject once you realized you had maybe hit a little too close to home with your question. 

He shook his head. “No, he plays harmonica like the damned devil, though. Only does it every once in a while, but shit…he’s good at it. Every now and then we’ll get on a good drunk and play together to a big audience of ourselves.” He smiled sideways as he turned to look at you. 

“Maybe y'all can play for me sometime.” Your fingertips were sliding along the hem of his boxers. 

He sucked his bottom lip in through his teeth. “We’d love to play for you…” his eyes had started bouncing around each feature on your face, taking you in again as he moved himself closer. He pressed his lips into yours again, sweet and soft and mellow. “You know I’m gonna be thinking of you on top of me all the time now…gonna want it all the time…” he groaned through broken kisses. “Fuck… I don’t think you even know how gorgeous you looked…” 

You pressed your tongue between his lips again, the sudden new movements hitting the strings of the guitar causing them to make a crazy scratching noise. “I’ll ride you whenever the hell you want, Danny…” you breathed, huffing a breath into his mouth. And you meant it, too. 

Just as things started to get heated again, you heard Danny’s radio in the bay shoot up to 11. It was followed by a loud metallic bang, and the sound of a loud engine starting up. It startled you, and you sat up to look at the door. 

“Fuck.” Danny said shortly, rubbing his hands through his hair. 

“What was that? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, no. No, he’s not. But, we’ve just gotta—” he sputtered. You slid yourself across the bed, moving toward the door as you heard another loud thud echo through the bay. 

“What is he doing?!” you urge.

“He’s drunk. He’s trying to fix Valor.” He explained, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Valor? The fuck is Valor?” you ask. 

“The fuckin' car his dad left em.” he answers. “Only touches it when he's wasted.”

“How do you know, does he do this often?” You stood at the foot of Danny’s bed, throwing your hip out as you crossed your arms. Suddenly you heard Jake’s loud voice yelling along to the first verse of ‘Turn the Page’ by Bob Seger. “My god, is he singing?!”

Danny sat up and crawled to sit on the edge of the bed. “Y/N, listen. Every so often, Jake will go on a bender, and when he does it, he does it right. It was Ace’s dying wish for Jake to fix that car, and the only way he can bring himself to touch it, is if he’s out of his mind intoxicated. So, we just gotta let him do it. He’ll be fine, just gotta get it out of his system.” 

Wait. “So he has to be fucked up before he can even pop the hood?” This wasn’t making sense. 

Danny nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be fine, this is just how he works through it.”

“Danny, that is an extremely unhealthy way for him to be dealin’ with this…” you said quietly. He shrugged his shoulders and huffed out a breath, his expressions saying nothing more than it is what it is. 

Another bang and more loud sing-shouting bellowed off the walls again, and you decided you’d had it. You yanked the door open, and made your way out into the shop, seeing Jake looking a complete and total mess as he dipped his head low inside the belly of Valor. A cigarette rested between his lips as both of his hands disappeared deep down in the engine. 

“Ain’t it unsafe to have an open flame that close to motor oil?!” You yelled, grabbing his attention. He perked up, his eyes a deep dark black that you hadn’t seen before. There was a scowl on his face and his nostrils flared when he looked at you, absolutely absorbed in the hatred and madness he must be currently full of. “Why are you out here makin’ all this racket?” You yelled over the music. 

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the floor and stomping it out as the smoke drifted from his lips. “None of your fuckin' business.” You watched as his eyes glanced toward Danny’s room. “Get back in there and let your boyfriend serenade you to sleep.” He slurred, pulling a socket wrench from his kit. 

“Agh!” You had a knee-jerk reaction to his words. “He’s not my boyfriend…” you crossed your arms across your chest. Who the fuck does he think he is?

Jake raised his hands into the air. “Whatever! Don’t care!” He shoo’d you away with a flick of his wrist, and buried his face back into the engine, screaming the words loudly again. “Here I gooooo, on the road again!”

You decided that seeing him like this, for the reason he was like this, wasn’t going to fly if you had anything to do with it. You stomped over to the other side of the hood, standing until he felt you watching. 

“God damnit!” He yelled, dropping the tool to the floor beneath the car. When he stood back up he met your eyes again. He reached down beside his foot, pulling up a large glass bottle of liquor, taking it straight to the head. 

A handle of Maker’s. He had gone to the liquor store earlier…but where did he get the cash for something like that…? 

Oh, fuck. The fifty you saw him shove in his pocket. With the red X over Grant. 

“You used my goddamn money to buy that, didn’t you?” You spat as he swallowed, wiping the excess drips from his chin with the back of his dirty hand. “The fifty you had earlier, you took it and spent it on this?!” You were enraged. He was supposed to be using that to buy your parts. 

“Again, it’s none of your fuckin' business, Y/N!” He was spitting and slurring his words, his face red with anger and drunkenness.

“No, it is my business! That’s my money you’re drinking away right now! That’s so fucked, Jake!” You were yelling at him now. “What do you think, I’m just gonna slide you an extra fifty for your trouble?!”

He snarled his nose up, taking another swig. “Screw you, Y/N. Get the fuck out of my face.”

You stepped toward him now, your entire body raging with madness that you just couldn’t qualm. “Why don’t you yell at me, Jake. Huh? Yell at me. Take it out on me, instead of the void. You want something to be mad at? Try me…” you hit yourself in the chest a couple times, trying to get him to have the reaction you were hoping for, probably looking mighty intimidating standing there barefoot in nothing but Danny’s t-shirt. 

He stepped back away from you. “What? Why…”

“Jake, almost half of the bottle is gone. Did you go somewhere and drink before you came back? Why are you—“

“Y/N, nobody fuckin' asked for the twenty questions. Can you go the fuck back to Daniel and let me do this?! Please.” He ignored you again, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he had tears welling in his eyes. There was a long pause in the conversation. He just needed to talk…

“What if I don’t want to?” You said, your voice as meek as possible over the volume of the radio. 

That confused him. “What if I want to stay here and help you?”

“You can’t help me, Y/N.” His face fell as he slammed a wrench back into the top drawer of the kit. “Nobody can.”

“Can you let me try?” You pleaded. 

He looked directly at you, and you watched as his face softened a bit. He shrugged his shoulders and let them fall again before taking another big swig of the liquor. You leaned in, yanking the bottle from his hand, tilting it back and taking a long shot, yourself. You winced as the hot liquor went down your throat before leaning your elbows down on the panel of the car, looking down inside it at what he was working on. Thankfully a slower, quieter song had come across the radio. 

“Now, what are we dealing with, here?” You asked, hoping he’d catch the double entendre. “Tell me all about it…”

He replaced his dirty hands back down into the front end, twisting something loose as he cleared his scratchy throat. 

“It’s been seven years. Seven years today.” He said quietly as his Adam’s apple bobbed. 

“Seven years since…?”

“Since my dad…died.” He was biting his cheeks in over and over. 

“What happened, Jake?” You leaned in a little closer, brushing some dust off the top of the engine. 

Jake leaned back, reached into his pocket and pulled out a few sheets of folded up notebook paper, dirty and torn from being in the hands and pocket of a mechanic. You took it gently from his hand, and slowly opened it. 

‘April 22, 1975’. You read to yourself before scanning the rest of the hand-written note. You felt your heart sink as the words clicked in your mind. 

“Jake, is this?”

“My dad’s suicide note. Yeah. Wrote it seven years ago today.” He replied, turning a socket wrench over and over as he avoided eye contact with you. “Left it for me on my nightstand while I was asleep.”

Your heart began pounding in your chest. Fuck. You hadn’t realized that was how he passed. You swallowed hard before even trying to speak again. “So you…you found him?” 

Jake brought the bottle to his lips again, swallowing it down before passing it to you. You tilted it up, and did the same. He nodded, barely any movement in his body now. “Yeah.” His eyes were blank as they stared at the block in front of him. 

You took a chopped breath. Maybe…maybe he just needs to get it out…hell. You were no psychologist.

Finally you spoke barely above a whisper. “Where was he?”

Jake was biting the sides of his cheeks in hard, his gaunt face pulled into itself as the dark circles shadowed even more in the dim light. His eyes looked dead into yours, deep and blank, before flicking up to the ceiling behind you, then back to yours. 

You turned around slowly following his line of vision, seeing the high exposed rafter in the lofted ceiling. 

Fucking hell. 

You turned back, your eyes closed as your hands found your face, tears fighting to spring out as the image of the rafter sat burned in your brain. Jesus. 

“Jake, I-I’m so…I didn’t mean for you to have to think about that again, that must have been…” you could hardly find the words to apologize, to empathize with him, with what he must have gone through that day, finding his dad like that. Gone through every day since. There were no words. There never would be any words. “I’m so sorry, Jake. Truly.”

“S’okay. In the past, now. What’s done is done.” He shrugged, nipping the bottle again. 

“But you were just a kid, Jake…”

“Yeah, I was. Not a damn clue in the world. Had to do the growin’ up a man does in twenty years that very day.” You watched as a tiny tear escaped the outside corner of his eye, and he quickly wiped it away. “Left me with absolutely fuckin' nothin except a couple thousand dollars, that note, this fuckin' shit hole building, and every bad debt he ever had. But I had Danny with me. And Bubba. Danny was only…only fourteen.”

You felt your heart physically breaking into a million pieces for him, for both of them, thinking back to them being young teenagers and having to deal with that basically on their own…

“I’m glad you had them with you.” You agreed. 

He nodded, his eyes turning red. “Don’t know what I would’ve done if Danny wasn’t here. Hell, his voice had barely even changed and he was helping me plan our dad’s funeral after he got home from school. But you know, he never even faltered. Kid took care of me better than I took care of myself those few weeks after. Forced me to eat, kept my mind busy…” you watched as he replayed the memories, probably running through them all in his head like watching them on an old projector screen. 

“He basically kept the shop running while I stayed away from the world in my bedroom. I don’t even…” he shook his head as he collected himself. “People brought us food, Bubba was here every single day making sure we were okay…but Danny did it all. I don’t even know how he did it, he was a baby. Fuckin' workhorse…always has been.”

He took a second to rub his dirty hands over his tired eyes. “I don’t…we don’t have anybody, Y/N. No family at all.”

You reached out and cupped your hand over his, squeezing it hard as you let him talk. “Danny’s your brother.” 

“In everything but blood.” He licked his lips, turning his hand over to hold yours back. You smiled, letting him know you were still here to listen, if he wanted to continue…even if it was just the whiskey giving him confidence. 

“So you basically raised Danny, after that…” you relented. 

He shrugged his shoulders in agreement. “Yeah, I guess, kinda. I dropped out of school right before graduation, but. Made sure he made it through senior year and all that. Honestly he raised me more than I did him, if I think about it.” He smirked a little. “We learned it all together.”

His eyes completely closed and he leaned his entire body weight down on his elbows. “Teddy…Teddy was uh, in love with my mom…before I was born.” His eyebrows raised and he laid more information out on the table for you. 

“What?!” 

He swigged the bottle again. “Yup. S’why he hated my dad so much. They were both vying for her at the same time…guess Ace swept her off her feet somehow.”

“Is that why he hates you so badly?” You were starting to put the pieces together. “He sees your mom in you?”

He nodded again. “Exactly. He’s still punishing me for what my dad did to him. Or my mom, whatever. I never asked for details. That’s why he’s still after me for my dad’s money. Still heartbroken and fucked up over somethin’ that went down before I was even born. The son of a bitch.”

“That’s not fuckin' fair, Jake.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, babe.” He clicked his tongue and sent you a wink.

He squeezed your hand a few times before releasing it, and walked over to plop himself down in one of the dirty lawn chairs against the wall of the shop. You followed suit, sitting beside him in the other chair as you curled your legs up and pulled Danny’s shirt over your knees. 

“Tell me about Ace. Was he a funny guy?” You asked, trying to get him through his anguish. He grinned a little, hastily wiping his eyes again. 

“Yeah, when he wanted to be. He was always full of dumb jokes and one-liners. But he stayed quiet most of the time, buried himself in his work. Till things went south with my mom, they got into drugs for a little bit. Nothing too serious but enough to count. My dad stepped away from it but mom didn’t. Then she just…disappeared. Before I was even out of diapers. Haven’t heard from her since.”

“What’s her name?”

“Stella.”

He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to sit out here and talk to me, ya know. I’m a fuckin' drunk mess. And I ain’t real sorry about it.”

You smirked. “Hey, just keepin’ you company.” You tilted the bottle back again, almost choking on it when it hit you. “Oh my god, Jake…the other day you said Ace died the day before your eighteenth birthday, that means…tomorrow is your birthday…?”

He nodded. “Yep. The big 2-6, I guess.”

Fuck. Now you understand why. His rage makes sense…

“Well that means we gotta have you a party!” You squealed, standing from the chair. 

“No no no, it’s just another day. I don’t need no party.” You grabbed his filthy hands, standing to your feet and bringing him with you. 

“Birthdays are the most important day of the year, silly!” You started dancing around to ’Cinnamon Girl’ as it blared from Danny’s speaker high on the shelf, holding Jake’s hands as you spun yourself around. “I saw your Neil Young poster on the wall, I know you love him. Come on, dance with me, birthday boy!” You couldn’t help but to try and act and candidly as you could, anything to try and make him feel just a little bit better on the anniversary of the worst day of his life. Even if it was just making him smile for a second. 

“You see us together, chasing the moonlight, my cinnamon girlllllll.” You sang out loud. 

Which you did, kind of. He grinned a bit and rolled his eyes at you, his sticky hands gripping just the very ends of your fingertips. You didn’t know if Danny knew what you were doing out here, but you didn’t really care if he did. It was his best friend’s birthday, for Christ sake. And no one even cared. 

Jake was stumbling around, his eyes heavily hooded and red. You realized maybe the alcohol had hit him when you stood him up so fast. He stepped his feet around a little bit, hardly much of a dance at all while you swung his arms around. It did manage to bring a little bit of a smile to his face, though. 

“I do love Neil Young, you’re right. And I’m impressed you know this song.” He chuckled. “Hmm, I’m fuckin' drunk though, too. Sleepy.” He said as you dropped his hands back to his sides. “Think I’m gonna go crash out.” He looked at you through one eye, and you realized how drunk he really was. 

“Shit, are you gonna be sick?” You asked. 

“No no, just sleep. Wan’ ma bed.” He mumbled, walking over to the shop sink to wash his dirty hands. 

“Okay, let me walk you.” You offered as he finished, walking backwards as you pulled him along toward his bedroom. 

When you got inside you flicked the light on, watching as Jake kicked his coveralls, jeans, and boots off as he waddled through the room. My god, his thigh tattoo, you hadn’t seen it up close, fuck…it was a dragon. Big and black and blue with fire coming from its mouth leading directly to…

He threw himself onto the mattress, his pile of freshly-washed sheets still laying a mess on top. 

“Mmm, they smell so good I just wanna…” he curled his arms and legs up in them, wrapping up like a cocoon as he buried himself in them. 

You laughed. “Is this what having clean sheets does to a man?!”

“They’re still kinda warm from the dryer, Y/N! Come feel, come here…” he reached his hand out, pulling you down into the bed with him. You bounced a couple times from the force, but you landed directly in his arms, face to face as you ended up tangled in the sheets with him. 

“See? Still warm, aren’t they?!” He was like a giddy school kid, but what he didn’t notice was how close your faces were. You could smell the heavy liquor emanating through his pores, on his breath, and swirling through the air, but his hand that pulled you down never let go. It gripped hard on yours as you laid beside him, both of you staring at each other, feeling each other’s chests rise and fall as your heart rate skyrocketed. 

Suddenly you felt the light touch of his other hand barely grazing across your back. “Are you still scared of me?” He asked, his voice hollow and needy. 

You thought a second, realizing that if you were truly scared of him, you wouldn’t have faced the monster he was, head-on earlier. By yourself in your panties, at that. 

“No.” You said simply, and that was the truth.

The corners of his lips tilted up just slightly as he whispered. “Good.”

You got ahold of yourself, turning your face away as you fought the demons that began circling in your mind, being this close to him. 

“I know what I want for my birthday.” He slurred, rolling his head into his pillow. 

“What’s that?”

“You ta’ read me more Maya poems.” His eyes were already closing as his words barely slipped out. You knew it wouldn’t be long. You were getting tired, yourself. You reached to his nightstand where your book still sat, opening to a passage of one of your favorites. 

You began reading out loud, just louder than a whisper, watching as his eyes drifted closed, his pink lips mouthing the words right along with you. 

And without even knowing it you fell asleep there, curled up in his pile of sheets, one hand on your book, and the other wrapped up in Jake’s. 

—

JAKE POV

Even through your drunken slumber you could hear the pounding on the door. Your eyes blinked open, trying to register if it was really happening or if you were dreaming. Surely you had to be as you looked over and saw Y/N asleep next to you. She was here, in your bed, with you. Your hand rested on the skin of her stomach and you could hardly tear your eyes away from her as you took in the way she felt beneath your hand. You wanted to pull her close, smell her hair, let your fingers glide over her skin, but instead you heard the knocking on the front door continue. She began to stir from the noise, rolling to face you as you realized you needed to get up. 

You pulled the blankets off of your body, your eyes searching furiously for where your gun ended up, finally catching sight of it on the dresser. You grabbed it, and bolted through your bedroom door to find out who the fuck was knocking on your door at four in the morning. You cocked your gun, and held it behind your back as you unlocked the front door, pulling it open slightly to see who it was. Bubba? The fuck?

You pulled the door open more, “What’s wrong?” you asked in a panic. This was unlike him. He never showed up like this unless something was wrong. Your eyes glanced behind him, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. 

“You got that girl here, son?” he asks, raising a brow. 

You furrow your brows and shift your weight into your hip, “Yeah, she’s here.”

“Good. Keep ‘er here. Don’t let ‘er outta your sight. Ain’t safe for ‘er.” he warns, quietly. 

“Joey was sniffin’ around up here earlier today, askin’ questions and shit. Asked where she was, so we went and got her from the motel. She’s not goin’ back. I knew he was up to some shit.” you answer, setting your gun down on the table by the door. 

“I don’t know what exactly is goin’ down over at Teddy’s but, might be best for her to just lay low here for a while. You boys don’t let them snatch that girl, whatever you do, you hear?” he says, crossing his arms. “That’s not why I’m here though.” 

“Alright, why are you here…” you ask, wondering what couldn’t wait until the morning. 

“Got a meeting set up for you two, ‘round 3 o’clock tomorrow. Down at the old sawmill.” he answers with a gleam in his eye.

“A meeting? The fuck kind of meeting Bubba?” you ask defensively. “Three’s in the middle of the work day, I don–”

“Yer gonna wanna take this meeting, son, promise yeh.” he nods. “Just trust me. You and Daniel better go. Don’t make me look bad, boy.”

“What should we expect?” You asked. 

Bubba stepped forward, placing his hand directly on your shoulder. “Just trust me.”

“Shit, alright.” you say, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Thanks.”

“Get you some rest.” he says, tipping his chin and heading back to his car. 

The hell…

You shut the door and lock it behind you, grabbing your gun from the table, and heading towards Daniel’s room. You rap your knuckles against the door, before twisting the handle, but as you push the door, he pulls it open. “Who the fuck was that?” he asks, a slight panic in his voice.

“Bubba.”

“The fuck does he want at four in the morning?” he questions, resting his hands on the door frame. 

“He set up a meeting for us tomorrow out behind the old Willits Sawmill. No fuckin' idea what for, but said we need to be there. 3 o’clock.” you answer. 

“A meeting?”

“S’what he said. I don’t fuckin' know…” you quip.

“Whatever, we can deal with it in the morning. Where’s Y/N?” he asks, looking down the hallway. 

You run your tongue over your teeth as you huff out an answer, “My bed.”

He raises his eyebrows, “In your bed…” he pauses, hardening his jaw, “Why’s that…”

You shake your head, and look past him for a second, before letting your eyes meet his, “Why don’t you let her tell you in the morning. Get some sleep, sounds like we’ve got a long day tomorrow.” you say, clapping your hand against his back with a smug grin. 

He narrows his eyes at you, and shuts his door as you step across the hallway to your room. As you open the door you see her sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest as she picks the skin on her thumb. “What’s going on? What’s happening?” she asks nervously.

You step into the room, shutting the door behind you before placing your gun on your nightstand. She just stares at you waiting for you to answer as you let out a deep sigh. You motion for her to get back into the bed, watching as she scoots back over to the other side, letting you slide back in where you were. You pull the clean smelling blankets back up around your shoulders before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you. You settle your head on your pillow, finally able to breathe in the scent of her hair as the words fall out of your lips in a quiet whisper, “Nothing you need to worry about tonight…”

Her body relaxes beneath your arm, and you let your eyes close, feeling the warmth of her skin against yours. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.  

—

DANNY POV

You rolled the creeper from beneath the old GMC as you heard the garage door shut and two pairs of feet shuffling across the bay. “Well, here we are again…Like deja vu.” you quip, cutting your eyes to Y/N, as she approaches. 

You pull yourself up to meet her as Jake opens his tool kit across the bay. You let your eyes linger on him for a minute before flicking them back to Y/N.  “Thought you’d be back last night…”

She drops her shoulders and lets out a defeated sigh, “I know. I know, I was trying, I swear, but…” she pauses, looking over her shoulder at Jake, who was now in his own little world beneath the hood of the Chevy. “I went out to talk to him last night, right? Well he kinda…opened up to me a little bit, told me about his dad… about his mom…” she says, a slight lilt in her voice. “He was so drunk Danny, he even cried a little bit.” she said, almost a whisper. 

“I know. I peeked out and saw the two of you talking. Talking more than he’s talked in years. Figured I'd let him get it out. Think he needed it.” you answer truthfully.

“You saw?” she asks, and you nod your head in response. 

“Anyways, I just wanted to make sure he made it to his bed, that’s all. Asked me to just stay and talk a little more and I fell asleep. I had no idea it was the anniversary of his dad’s death. No wonder he was so messed up. Oh– and it’s his birthday today. Did you know that?” she asks. 

Oh shit, you forgot. “Oh, um, yeah I guess you’re right it is. Usually we don’t do anything. Kinda just another day around here.”

“Just another day?” she asks, face painted with shock. “Danny that’s so…That’s so sad. I wish there was something I could do…” she says with sad eyes. 

Your eyes flicked over to Jake and you caught him, seeing him flick his head up in acknowledgement, a small smile on his face. You look back at her, resting your hand on her small shoulder, “Baby, I think you did...” both of you turning to see him gently singing along with the music playing through the speakers. 

—

“So this meeting…” you start, leaning on the frame of the Chevy. Jake turns to you, setting down his tools. “Yeah, at three.”

“I was thinking, we can’t leave her here, right? Like, what if this is just a set up to get her alone?” you ask, picking the dirt from under your nails.

“Yeah I considered that. Think we’ll have to bring her with just to be safe. She can wait in the truck.” he says, pushing off the frame of the car. You follow him through the bay as he rifles through his kit in search of another tool. 

“I can take the bike, you two take the truck. Do we even know what this meeting is about?” you ask. 

“Nah, Bubba didn’t say, but I trust ‘em. S’only got our best interest, ya know.” he replies, snatching the tool from the box and walking back over to the truck. 

“I think we need to be prepared for any scenario…” you say with the raise of your eyebrows. 

“Well fuckin' obviously. No clue what we’re gonna tell Y/N though.”

“Shit, hopefully this isn’t some stupid fuckin' setup. What we got like an hour?” you ask. 

“Yeah. About. Think we should clean up, or…” he asks, turning to you.

“I mean, we could, but s’not really us, huh?” you laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder, “Hey, happy birthday brother.”

He tightens his lips and nods his head as he looks to the floor, “Ahh, thanks man. Twenty-six. Seems old.” he laughs. 

“Nah, not really, we still got a lot of livin’ left to do.” you smile, watching as he nods his head and his eyes flick over to Y/N who is lounging in a folding chair out front. 

“She was worried ‘bout you last night.” you press, hoping to hear his thoughts. 

“Yeah, came out here guns a-blazin’ and didn’t falter for a second. Talked for a bit, drank too fuckin’ much. Woke up and she was in my bed.” he says, and you feel a little relieved.

You smirk and raise an eyebrow, “She’s a sweet lil thing.”

He scoffs a laugh at you. “Guess you got to find that out for sure when I left last night, huh? Had yourselves a good ol’ time in my absence…saw your shirt must’ve been the closest thing she could grab when I got home.”

You bit your lips in, nodding as you went. “She’s fuckin’ phenomenal, man. Like, I didn’t expect that…” 

He laughed again, blushing a little. “No, she seems like a good girl. Feel like shit for all the hell we’re puttin’ her through.” he admits, wiping his hand on the rag in his back pocket. 

“You order those parts?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

“Yeah, should be here in a week or two.” he nods, leaning on the frame of the truck. 

“Make any headway with Val?” you wonder, seeing it still sitting uncovered. He shakes his head, “Nah, the old bitch still givin’ me a run for my money.”

“One of these days we’ll crack ‘er.” you say, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before returning to your side of the garage. 

—

You stand in the doorway of the truck, watching her buckle her seatbelt as Jake slides into the driver’s seat. “Listen, we aren’t really sure what’s about to go down, but just stay in the truck, lay low, and if shit goes south, get on the floorboard. Alright?” you ask, letting your thumb swipe over her cheek. She nods her head and you tip your chin, turning to head towards your bike. 

The door shuts behind you and Jake pulls out of the driveway in a cloud of dust. You quickly jump on your bike, starting it with a roar, before following closely behind them. Your heart is pounding a little extra hard as you make your way to the old abandoned sawmill, completely unsure of what or who will be waiting there for you.

His truck slows as he pulls into the cracked and pot hot riddled lot, seeing a single car parked at the far end. It’s not a car you recognize from around here and that puts you on high alert. The hair on the back of your neck stands tall as Jake parks the truck, letting you pull up next to him. 

Y/N slinks down in the seat, trying her best to stay out of sight, as Jake steps out of his truck, slamming his door shut. You lean your bike on the kickstand and walk towards him, both of you sending each other a concerned look. “Recognize it?” you murmur under your breath. 

“Nah.” he says, reaching back into his belt to cock his gun. You do the same, hoping it won’t come to that, but around here it wouldn’t be unheard of. 

The two of you walk through the crunching pavement over towards the dark green GMC Sprint, seeing a man resting against the driver’s door. He hears you approaching and pushes off the car turning to face you. The sun is in your eyes as you catch sight of his face, distorting his features until you get a little closer. You notice the car is still running, despite him not occupying it, and that too, makes you uneasy.

“Was at the poker game.” you whisper. 

“Sure was.” Jake replies, stepping up to the man. 

“Hello fellas.” the man says with a smirk. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yep, what uh– what can we do for ya?” Jake asks, with his hands on his hips. 

“Well boys, to be frank with you, I’d like to make a proposition to you.”

“You were at the game the other night. Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.” You say, crossing your arms against your chest. 

“You’re right, I was. Names Oscar, but you can call me Oz.” he says, extending his hand to shake. You stare at it for a minute in contemplation before reaching towards him and shaking his hand. Jake follows, introducing himself. 

“Oh I know who you boys are. Heard all about yehs.” he smiles.

“Heard about what?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. 

“Heard you two were some fighters.” he says, tipping his head. 

“Fighters?” Jake asks, shaking his head. 

“S’what word on the street is. Figured I’d stop in to see for myself. Talked to some folks ‘round town, told me ‘bout your little poker games, and wouldn’t you know I got what I asked for. Saw the two of yeh’s on the side of the house.” he says, tightening his lips. 

“So what, doesn’t mean we’re fighters or whatever the fuck.” Jake quips, standing firm. 

“No son, I think that’s exactly what you are.” he retorts. “That’s why I asked your friend Bubba to arrange this little meetin’. Thought this could be beneficial for both of us.” 

“You gonna get to the point?” you ask, trying to hurry things along. 

He laughs a little under his breath, “I want you two come fight for me. You win, you get a portion of the winnins’.” he says, placing his hand in his pocket. He pulls out a stack of cash, easily five-hundred bucks. “Pay off that debt of yers real quick like.”

“Fight for you? The fuck does that mean?” Jake asks, staring at the money in his hand. 

“You ever heard of Vale Tudo?” he asks, both of you shaking your heads, a little unsure of this man's motives. 

“Alright, how ‘bout… No Holds Barred fightin’?”

“Yeah.” you answer quickly, earning you a nod from him. Of course you’d heard of it, you were practically raised on it.

“Well, somethin’ like that. Real private, underground type of settin’. Think up in those there bigger cities the folks call it ‘MMA’. Got people buyin’ in, bettin’ on these fights. We ain’t talkin’ no small buy in’s neither. This is big cash. Life changin’ money.” he says, raising a brow. 

“Been lookin’ for myself a few boys to travel ‘round.” he pauses. “I think you two got the grit, and the need.”

“The need…” Jake presses.

“I know that Teddy character, he ain’t never gonna let you get ahead. But son, this is yer chance.” 

“So, you want me and Jake to come…fight, and if we win said fights we get paid?” you ask, genuinely trying to piece this together. 

“Exactly. We can work out the details, but roughly, you travel ‘round to these hosted fights, you fight favorably, we both walk home with our pockets lined.” he says. 

“And how do we know, you’re trustworthy?” Jake asks. “I’ve got a life and a livin’ to make here. Bills lined up till kingdom come and they don’t pay themselves.”

“It’d be a fight here and there, every week or two with a rest period to recover yer health and bodies. Yeh’d have time at yer shop, so it’d be unsuspectin’. That’s the point son. Don’t want the heat findin’ out ‘bout it.” he says, and you start to feel uneasy. 

“Seems…I don’t know. Why us? There’s gotta be people better suited than us…” you barter.

“Well truthfully Daniel, I’ve had my eye on you since you was ‘bout 17. Heard ‘bout the fightin’ from some folks, kept an eye on yeh. And Jacob, I know you learned from ‘em. Watched yeh myself just the other night. Ye’ve got somethin’, and I’m willin’ to take a chance on you boys if you’re willin’ to take a chance on me. If it doesn’t work out, well, hell we tried, still let you two walk away with a few hundred each for yer troubles.”

You see Jake’s brow furrow, and you know he’s considering it. You know this debt is crippling the shop, the two of you barely scraping by every week. You know this could be your chance. The only other thing you’ve ever been good at. “We gotta decide right now?” you ask, sending him a questioning look. 

“No’sir. I’ll be in town ‘nother few days, got some outstanding business. First fight ain't for another week ‘er so over in Kirksville.” he says, reaching into his pocket again, pulling out a paper business card. Jake takes it from his fingers, reading over it before handing it to you. 

“Now, you fellas think this over, give me a call once you’ve come to a decision.” he says, tipping his head. “Oh, and, for what it’s worth…” he pauses, “These buy in’s… is in the thousands range. My last fighter took home 4 grand in one night, for 5 minutes effort. Just somethin’ to consider.” and with that he slides into his idling car.

As the car pulls off in a cloud of exhaust Jake turns to you, his jaw slack and his face riddled with shock and question. “What the fuck…What was that? Wh–What do we do?”

You turn to look at him, shoving your hands in your pockets, and sucking your teeth, “Sounds like we fight.”

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