#Danny is a more paranormal Batman than normal

[nelkcats]

Fake Batman

Despite the years he had spent in the Realms and how much he had changed, Danny could admit that he missed being a hero, or at least a vigilante of sorts. Being a King was stressful and everyone asked for his opinion, something that had improved over the years but had never completely changed.

So when Clockwork told him that there was a hero named "Batman" in another dimension, he was interested. Mainly because the people there seemed to think Batman was a ghost or connected to the supernatural, when in reality he was just an ordinary person.

Sure, he was also a billionaire but everyone had their flaws and Danny didn't plan to hold that against him. Someday he would meet a normal billionaire with no hidden agendas, he was sure.

Batman had children too, even though he "worked alone" and the halfa was very interested. So much so, that when his mentor asked him if he wanted to spend a vacation in Gotham pretending to be the vigilante he agreed without much trouble.

It seemed that Batman had been badly hurt and people were starting to lose their fear of him, something that was critical in Gotham. So Danny agreed to his mentor's request and imitated the Bat's costume as best he could, adding a more supernatural effect than usual.

It wasn't long before Bruce found out about his double. A double who was doing his job very well and scaring his villains while he remained in bed, he would be grateful if it wasn't so worrisome.

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #8

The day Bruce Wayne knocks on her apartment door Sam knows it's going to be a doozy.

"Mr. Wayne, I really do hope no one saw you," she says, ushering him in. "And for the record, a text ahead of time would be appreciated."

"I parked the car a few streets away," Bruce says, sticking a finger in his heel to peel his polished leather shoes off. Sam raises an eyebrow. "It's a sedan, not a Lamborghini."

"You own a sedan?"

"Taught Dick to drive in it...after he crashed the Lamborghini."

Sam snorts despite herself. The charm Bruce Wayne exhibits would usually rub her the wrong way, too reminiscent of wealthy men that feel comfortable placing a hand on the small of your back at a crowded gala, but Bruce is honest enough about his playacting that she has come to find its insincerity comforting. She's actually sought him out more than once, leading to several annoying headlines that can't seem to decide if she's aiming to date him or one of his eligible sons. None of whom are eligible by the way, as they are a) taken, b) legally dead, c) practically a minor, and d) an actual minor.

Sam's generational wealth is peanuts compared to Wayne Industries, so naturally her parents have been thrilled and rooting for option c.

"I also didn't want Danny to see I'd texted you. Or force you to lie to him."

Sam doesn't quite tense, but it's a near thing. She does slide to the other side of her kitchen island, under the context of finishing prepping her feta fried eggs, laid on a bed of smashed avocado and warm tortilla. She pulls a bottle of crunchy garlic oil out of the fridge and drizzles hot red crisps across the runny yolk. She takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully, not so much as offering him a glass of water.

"You realize, Mr. Wayne, I have no intention of lying to Danny now?"

Bruce sits at the stool on the opposite side of the island. "I understand. And if you want to ask Danny to return home before we continue, I'd understand that as well. I didn't mean to discomfit you--"

"Please do not lie to me now, Mr. Wayne," Sam says, rolling her eyes. "By your own admission you showed up at noon without warning knowing my superhero boyfriend wouldn't be present. If I am discomfited, all the more likely you get your information, right?" Golden yolk runs down her fingers, and she sacrifices it to the napkin rather than lick up her arm in front of her boss, with no small amount of resentment. The yolk is the best part.

"Get to it then," she demands.

Bruce straightens in his stool, chin raising and firming in a jawline she most often sees under a cowl. His eyes attempt to pin her in place, but Sam has stared the Master of Time in the face and demand he reschedule so she is built. different. She takes another bite of egg taco.

"I was not aiming for you to feel threatened, and moreover, I doubt you could be."

Except a smart person should always feel threatened by a threat, no matter their capability of handling one. It keeps them alive.

"Can you tell me how I'm not like all the other girls after lunch? You'll spoil my appetite."

Bruce clears his throat. "I'll get to the point--"

"Thank you."

"--Danny has been exhibiting paranormal behaviors beyond his baseline. We welcome all biologies; human, alien, and paranormal alike, but I have observed actions unlike what he had previously established as his, for lack of a better word, 'normal'

"I want to make sure he is not experiencing any unwelcome outside influence. Or, if this is merely a facet of his evolution, I'd like to know if this is something we or his family should be monitoring."

Sam has been an eco-consultant with Wayne Industries and unofficially, the Batfamily, for half a year now and this is the most she's ever heard the man speak in one sitting.

"Wow," she says. "How long have you been rehearsing that one?"

"A while." Bruce grunts, voice finally taking that final drop into Batman's gravelly rasp. "I see you're not surprised by any of this."

"No, not really," Sam says. She pours him a tall glass of lemon water from the pitcher, freshly sliced that morning, and he takes a polite sip.

"So what can you tell me?"

"Probably a lot. And Danny would probably prefer that I do, knowing him, the big baby," Sam sighs. "Listen Mr. Wayne, I can appreciate that you came here from a place of caution rather than intrusion. And if Danny was undergoing something negative or from an 'unwelcome outside influence' that would be the right call, and I, albeit begrudgingly, encourage you to do so in the future."

"But he's not."

"He's not," Sam confirms. "And in fact, I think he could really use someone to talk to about it. Outside of his family."

"I see..." Bruce says, shifting.

"If you want to tag team this one with one of the higher EQ players, such as Superman, I give you permission." Sam does not think she's imagining that slight sag of relief.

"Thank you," Bruce says, sliding off the stool. "I don't suppose you have material we could consult...?"

"Actually yes, I happen to have a pamphlet right here. 'So your ghostly body is changing, and how.'"

"You're being more sarcastic than usual."

"You interrupted my lunch, Mr. Wayne."

[ayamari-no-goshi]

To Join the Whispers (12)

AO3 

There’s artwork now!!

Jason’s ghost form by @elle-mrly: Line sketch and Colored version

Scenes from chapter 11 from @impyssadobsessions: 1 and 2

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

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

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

Parings: none

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

Jason’s head was pounding as he came to, and his arms felt like someone tied lead weights to them. Groaning slightly, he sat up and glanced around. He was back in the hotel room and on one of the beds. He didn’t remember going to bed. Was he just that tired? Or had he passed out? Judging by the fact his red vest was on the same chair as his mask, it was probably the latter. Great.

But what happened before that? His last memory was making sure Danny was safe… Shit! Was the kid okay?

Bolting upright, he ended up hissing in pain as his arm throbbed. A quick glance told him someone must have given him first aid as the place where the Fentons grazed him was bandaged. That must have been worse than he thought it was if it was still bothering him like that.

“I don’t think Batman wants you to get up yet.” Glancing over, he found Danny in his human form sitting on the other bed. His smile seemed forced, and he wouldn’t look up. “The others filled me in. Thanks for, uh, helping me and not hurting my parents.”

He nodded. “Are you okay? Whatever Plasmius hit you with…”

“It’s fine,” Danny cut him off as he rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s done the same thing before. Guess he just put more power behind it this time. But see,” he transformed into Phantom, “I’m all good. I have a few bruises, sure, but that’s a lot better than I normally get from fights.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Jason swung his legs over the edge of the bed to more comfortably face the teen. Everything hurt.

Danny shrunk back a little as he returned to his human form. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine.” He pushed his bangs back before bringing both of his hands to rest on his legs. “That shock triggered a freeze response, a traumatic response, in you. You were completely unresponsive. What if the G.I.W., or God forbid, your parents managed to do something similar?”

“But it wasn’t them. It was Vlad, and as fruit loop-y as he is, he’s not going to kill me.”

“Danny,” Jason sighed before continuing, “look… you know I got murdered as a teen. I thought with all the training I had I’d be able to get out of any situation, and even if I couldn’t, Batman would swoop in at the last second. I was a hero, and heroes always win.” He gripped his hands as he continued. “When you fight the same people again and again with the same result, you can start to forget how dangerous they really are.”

“I’ll fully admit I let myself fall into a trap, that I didn’t realize I got manipulated until it was too late. And in those final moments, I knew no one was coming. I knew I was going to die alone.” He glanced at Danny as he let himself have a small pause to make sure he kept his emotions under control. The kid’s eyes had widened, and his complexion paled. “So many of us get wrapped up in the chance to play hero that we forget the dangers. Even if we have a mentor, sometimes we still end up as cannon fodder for a crusade that was never ours.”

That was one of the reasons he couldn’t get rid of some of the resentment he had towards Bruce. Even after losing a Robin, he still took on and trained more kids for the role. No matter how talented, kids shouldn’t be on the front line. They shouldn’t be fighting criminals and risking their lives. And for some fucking reason, he couldn’t get Bruce to either acknowledge or understand it. But those were thoughts for later.

As an uneasy silence began to fall between them, there was a knock before the door opened to reveal Bruce, still in costume. They momentarily stared at each other before the others, led by Dick, brushed passed him and into the room. Although Damian elected to stay near the door, the others came over to poke and prod at him. No one seemed to be wearing the Deflectors as he wasn’t getting shocked, but it still didn’t mean he liked it.

Cussing, he ended up standing in an attempt to better fed them off. What was their deal anyways? He was fine, or at least he was pretty sure he was fine. Did something in his appearance change from whatever Vlad did to him? He better not have more white hair.

All thoughts and everyone else’s actions screeched to a halt when his arm accidentally went through Cass’ chest. He stared in dawning horror that he could feel the sensation of her heart beating and the motions of the lungs and surrounding muscle as she breathed. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. What was he supposed to do? He needed to remove it, but what if he accidentally damaged her heart or lungs? What if he got stuck? What would that do?

“Panicking will make it worse.” Danny’s voice was soft and sullen as he came over and gently touched his arm. Just like when the kid made them both invisible at Vlad’s mansion, he could feel Danny’s energy wash over the intangible limb. Seconds later, he had them safely separated. Cass tentatively checked the area for a moment before giving a reassuring smile. It didn’t make him feel better.

Bruce cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. He wanted to talk so that meant everyone needed to pick a spot and stop fussing. Danny frowned in confusion at the sudden change, so Jason gestured for him to have a seat.

Once that was settled, he decided to sit on the floor using the bed he woke up on as a back rest. Well, that was what he planned on doing. It was like it wasn’t even there as he fell backwards. He blinked a few times in confusion as he realized he was staring at the underside of the bed. He had fallen through it. What even was his life at this point? “I can’t wait ‘til this shit stops.”

“Are you okay?” Duke questioned as feminine laughter could be heard throughout the room. Sounded like Stephanie. Bruce must have set up communications.

“Oh yeah, I just love counting the ungodly number of dust bunnies under beds.” After pulling himself out from under the bed, he once again tried to lean against it. This time it worked. “Guess that’s how I got under there yesterday.” He glanced at Dick. “That means you’re off the hook, this time.”

“That’s happened to me more times than I can count,” Danny admitted while trying to suppress a smile. “It was really bad in the month following my accident, and me panicking every time didn’t help. I don’t have a clue how I managed hide all my slip ups from my parents or my classmates.”

“Anyways, what was that about?” Jason asked he eyed his siblings as he rubbed his chest. That weird, concentrated feeling of the Pit was still there. “Is something glowing again?”

“I knew you were dense, Todd, but this level of unawares is almost impressive.” Damian gave an arrogant smirk, impressed with his own insult.

Bruce frowned at the brat before focusing his attention on Jason. “What do you remember from last night?”

“Let’s see, Plasmius decided to play puppeteer in ballroom.” He glanced at Danny. “Did Glowstick tell you guys what he said?”

“Yeah,” Babs affirmed with an irritated huff. “We’re already working on how to upgrade our systems so that doesn’t happen again. We have one of the most, if not most, secure computers in the world, and a ghost can bypass everything just by possessing it. It’s frustrating.”

“It also paints the data Vlad had on various heroes and criminals in a new light,” Tim added as he typed on his wrist computer. “We thought he’d gathered that on his own. So, now we’re trying to see if there are any independent systems where he might have stored more information as well as prepping for any potential fallout.”

Jason nodded before giving a quick summary of the events after getting out of the ballroom and up to when he set Danny on the bed. When he mentioned the pod, he couldn’t repress a shiver. That thing was going to haunt his dreams for a while. “I don’t think there’s anything else. Am I missing something?”

“Did Plasmius tell you what he was trying to do to you?” Bruce pressed.

Jason could tell something the old man was hiding something, and it made him uneasy. “He was unhappy about my lack of ghostliness and thought I might have an incomplete or inactive core. He wanted to fix that.” He could still feel echoes of the burning pain across his skin from being submerged in Pit water again.

Danny seemed to wince on his behalf. “Well, on the bright side, Vlad didn’t try duplicating his own accident on you. That involved cola contamination, a blast to the face with a proto-portal, and ecto-acne.”

“What the fuck, Glowstick?” he asked after a moment of stunned silence.

The kid shrugged. “Ectoplasm can do a lot of weird things to normal people and objects. I already told you my parents managed to bring food to life with it on accident when they modified the microwave and oven. I think they finally learned not to use it on turkeys and chicken after the multiple times they’ve tried taking over the house, but my dad did somehow befriended the franken-wiennies. They’re now part of the home security.”

“You know, just when I think I can’t be surprised anymore…” Dick murmured while he ran his hands over his face. Tim nodded in agreement.

“I probably shouldn’t ask, but what did they do with the undead food? You didn’t eat them, did you?” It looked like Stephanie scooted closer to the screen as she waited for the answer.

“My parents did. Jazz and I ordered take out.”

Everyone, including Bruce, showed or vocalized some sort of disgust. But if Maddie and Jack really would eat stuff like that, then maybe they really did have some form of ectoplasmic contamination. Funny, he never would have thought food would be the potential cause.

“Back to the matter at hand,” Bruce eyes wept around the room before focusing on Jason, “you’re not aware of anything abnormal?”

“Did you forget I got stuck in a table? That’s pretty abnormal, if you ask me.”

Stephanie openly snickered. “Did he really? Oracle, you’ve got to show me the video of that!”

“Spoiler.”

“Alright, alright.” Some of Steph’s excitement vanished at Bruce’s admonishment. “I can watch it later.”

“B, I really don’t think he knows,” Tim stretched his arms as he spoke. “It’s probably best to show him the footage.”

Now on edge, Jason took the laptop Dick handed him while their siblings and Danny crowded around him. The screen was split between the four feeds from when they were fighting Plasmius. Babs must have hit play on her end as the recordings started. Everything seemed normal. So why…?

When Plasmius shocked Danny, that’s where things changed. The visual feed from his equipment went out while the other three momentarily glitched. When the three feeds corrected, he noticed he looked different. The red parts of his costume appeared blue, and his boots and knee pads looked off. At first, he thought it was part of the glitch, but no one else looked different.

He glanced down at his shirt. His symbol was definitely red, and he distinctly remembered when he looked at his vest earlier, it was also still red. A growing sense of dread filled the pit of his stomach as Babs changed it to just Cass’ feed when they were escaping.

In the dark, it almost appeared as if he was glowing faintly. It had to be from him carrying Danny, but as the feed was switched to Dick’s, he realized it was slightly different than the kid’s. He also noted the injury on his arm and how it wasn’t bleeding. Instead, it was oozing an unnatural green substance.

The feed once again changed to when Tim watched him put Danny on the bed. When he pulled down his hood, white hair with a black streak was now visible, and when the mask was removed, glowing green eyes could be briefly seen before the feed glitched again. When the distortion cleared, his unconscious form could be seen looking as normal as always.

No… No. No. NO! Fuck no! It couldn’t be. It was supposed to be temporary! Things were supposed to go back to normal.

This was Plasmius’ fault. He knew. He saw. That’s why he said he got something he wanted. That fucker did this to him.

The Pit churned uneasily in response to his inner turmoil. With a jolt, he realized why it felt more concentrated than before. That… that was his core. What did that mean? Did it replace his heart? No, he could still feel that pounding in his chest. That was one good thing, he guessed.

But what was this going to mean for him? Having unstable abilities made anyone a liability, but there was also Bruce to contend with. Things still weren’t great between them, and there was a very real possibility he could get blamed for crimes he had nothing to do with. While he knew he brought that lack of trust on himself, he was trying to stay on the lighter side of gray, but Bruce’s paranoia could get the better of him at times. Then there was the temptation it’d bring. He might have to leave Gotham for a long time, maybe even permanently.

Then there was the planning. They’d have to figure out what to do if someone else found out and gained control of him to hurt the others. Should he hide it from Roy and Kori? It’d probably be safer, but at the same time, if he didn’t and it was used against him to hurt them…

His world was falling apart. Wait, no, he was actually starting to fall through the floor. There was a flutter of confusion as someone grabbed the computer off him before at least two people hoisted him up by the arms. Breaking out of their grips, he found his siblings staring at him with concern or pity or amusement. He didn’t know at this point. He just needed to leave.

“I’m… I’m going to go smoke.” Not caring he was technically still in uniform, he brushed past Bruce, who didn’t try to stop him. He grabbed the jacket he knew had his cigarettes and headed towards the roof.

…

“Did the old man send you?” Jason questioned as he lit another cigarette. He’d already gone through five of them as he sat and tried to quiet his chaotic mind.

“No, I decided to come on my own.” Danny sounded like he was sitting on top of stairwell. “I think the others aren’t sure what to do.”

“That’d be a first.” Technically, that was a lie, but they were all pros at improvising until something worked in their favor.

Unlike their previous rooftop conversation, the silence wasn’t comforting. Maybe it was because, while he never openly voiced it, the kid was hoping for a similar outcome, even if it wasn’t what Jason wanted. It wasn’t like anyone else really understood his reality, save for Plasmius. Just thinking about that bastard made the Pit whisper, stirring thoughts of punishment and revenge. No, he wasn’t going down that road. Not right now anyways.

Eventually, he couldn’t deal with it anymore and put out his cigarette. “This isn’t going to go away, is it?”

“No, it won’t.” There was a hesitant pause before Danny quietly added. “And I know from experience trying to go back to normal turns out badly.”

“Of fucking course.” He stared up at the sky and sighed. “Just when things were finally getting better, karma or whatever decides to punch me in the gut. Wait…What?” Did Danny say what he thought he said? “You tried…?”

The teen didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he slid off the roof of the stairwell and sat next to him. “Yeah. I was brought up being told that ghosts are malicious and evil. That they’d do anything to hurt the living.” His gaze was distant. “My parents used to joke that if something ever happened to me or Jazz and we came back as ghosts, that they’d make sure to destroy us before we had a chance to hurt anyone. I think they thought it was comforting.”

“That’s pretty messed up.”

“I guess. It was just part of life growing up, but then the accident happened.” Danny momentarily gripped his jeans, probably due to the memory. “I was terrified. Suddenly, I had all these powers and no way to control them. I didn’t even know if I was still alive or just pretending to be. And according to my parents, I was supposed to be evil. I think some part of me took responsibility for the others ghosts just to prove I wasn’t evil.”

The kid leaned back and stared upwards. “Sam and Tucker were there when it happened. If… if it wasn’t for them, I might have gone crazy. There were times I even debated letting my parents know so they could fix me. Even though I’m pretty sure now they would have accepted me, the ‘what ifs’ stopped me. Hearing your parents talk about dissecting you isn’t exactly comforting. Besides, it’s just been easier to keep them in the dark.”

“My friends tried to do their best to get me to think positively about the situation. I mean, who doesn’t dream about being a superhero when they’re little at least once? But they didn’t understand how hard it was. Between trying to hide my powers and the sleepless nights trying to stop the ghosts coming from the Portal, I was struggling. I just wanted everything to go back to normal, and only worry about normal teenage things and work my butt off in school so I could get into NASA and become an astronaut…” He sighed before continuing. “My parents once invented something that could separate ectoplasm from almost anything. I tried that, but it didn’t go well. It split me into two incomplete bodies.”

When he grimaced at the mental image, Danny backtracked. “Oh! No, no, no! According to Sam and Tucker, we looked okay, but it wasn’t exactly a perfect split between human and ghost, and our personalities were all screwed up. My memories from that are really fuzzy so I can’t really explain it better, but I’m pretty sure the mostly human me rode a vacuum cleaner at one point. I should ask Tucker about that. If anyone has video of it, it’s him.”

“You know… I think something like that once happened to Big Blue…” Jason was pretty sure he’d previously read through files referencing a red and blue Superman. “But Bats and the others have dealt with alternative universes, so I’m not completely sure if that happened to ours or a different one.”

“Big blue?”

“Oh, Superman. You wouldn’t think it, but him and Bats are friends.”

Danny’s mouth dropped open as his eyes widened in shock. After a moment, he seemed to realize he was staring. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Batman is a member of the Justice League, and you and the others have probably met a bunch of other heroes. I’ve always wanted to meet Martian Manhunter. I mean, he’s from Mars! How cool is that?”

Despite himself, Jason chuckled as Danny launched into an explanation of what fascinated him about space. It was nice to see some of the wariness he carried behind his eyes and smile momentarily melt away. He really had been forced into a situation he shouldn’t have been. Maybe he could hint to Bruce to introduce the kid to J’onn. Their abilities had some similarities after all.

Oh, that applied to him now too. Fuck. He was going to have to figure out how this whole thing worked. And knowing Bruce, he was going to do everything in his power to keep him in the manor until he wasn’t a danger to himself or the others due to an accidental slip up, especially with what happened earlier.

“Huh? Sorry, I got distracted.” He hadn’t realized he got lost in his thoughts until Danny waved a hand in front of his face.

“It’s cool. Things are probably really weird for you right now.” A troubled expression crossed his face. “I was talking about how things were at first and how I wanted to have things go back to normal… For a while, I tried to ignore everything. That backfired.”

“What do you mean?”

“For us, our human side gives extra energy to our cores, and if it’s not used, you might find yourself unintentionally sinking through furniture or having an invisible arm for hours. It sucks.” Danny raised his hand and formed a small crystal in it.

“That’s ice, right? Saw you use it against Plasmius.”

“Yep, but I can make more than ice.” He mischievously grinned as a snowball formed in his hand. “Catch!”

Jason barely had enough time to prevent it from hitting his face, but that didn’t stop some of the snow from getting in his hair or on his clothes. “At least I know who to bring with me the next time some decides I need to join a snowball fight.”

“Nice, right?” Danny’s smile faded again. “This is probably the power that gives me the most trouble. If I don’t use or practice with it a couple times a week, I risk freezing myself solid.”

“Are you telling me your powers could kill you?” This kid was going to turn more of his hair white. That was an extremely important bit of information to know.

“Maybe?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I don’t really know if I can properly die or not. It’s not really something I’ve wanted to test. But, from talking to Frostbite and some of the other ghosts who have been around a while, it’s really only an issue for stronger ghosts with elemental cores. You don’t currently have one, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Don’t currently have one…” Jason repeated as he ran his hands over his face. “Glowstick, I can barely wrap my mind around having a normal one or whatever. I don’t need to think about it changing or whatever down the line right now.”

“You know, if you’re going to continue calling me that, I need to give you a nickname too, at least one better than Skunkhead.” Danny tapped his foot for a moment. “Hmm… maybe Antares or Naos.”

“What are you calling me?” He wasn’t familiar with either word, but neither sounded like an insult. He was going to have to remember to look those up later.

“Don’t worry about.” Danny stood and stretched his back. A few pops could be heard. Once he was done, he turned and grinned. “How about we go flying? It’ll help take your mind off things, and there’s nothing quite like it. What do you say?”

====

Notes:

Fun Danny did ride a vacuum around his room in Splitting Images. No clue why I remember that.

So, Superman Red and Superman Blue are a thing - same person split into 2. First appeared in a 'what if' type story in 1963 (Superman #162). The most famous version is from 1998 where it's a one shot. The 90s were a weird time in comics. Also don't know if this is still canon either. DC did say that all stories are relevant again, but might only exist as alternative memories...? Trying to figure this out gives me a headache, and I know it's just going to change again in a year or two.

Antares and Naos are the names of stars. Antares is a red star in Scorpio, and the name means 'opponent to Ares(Mars)'. Naos is a blue star that's part of the constellation Puppis which is one of three constellations that represent the ship Argo that was used by Jason and the Argonauts.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

He only had to last that long.

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

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

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

Shit—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

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

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

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

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

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

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

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

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

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

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Ok, so I remember Dragon coming up with a Chloe DP au, and for some reason that combined in my head with your post about Vlad and the rich kids and the S4 spoilers so... imagine Chloe at Vlad’s party during a ghost attack, feeling depressed and useless and generally just thinking about being replaced. somehow she ends up in Vlad’s lair, self reflecting in front of the portal when it gets hit by a power surge. Most of the class just sees her being carried out to the ambulance, but 2 know better

Me: “I need to work on all my other fics.”

Also me: “Time to work on several pages of Chloé half dying!!! And another bootleg version of one of Dragon’s AUs!”

Vlad and Danny are on kinda friendly terms in this mostly because I wanted to write them snarking at each other. 

Chloé was glad to get out of Paris for a while. A decision her father had made after, well. Certain incidents. Making her feel unsafe in Paris. So she was sent away to a place without Hawkmoth or Akumas.

Smoothing out the skirt of her pale yellow, nearly white, dress, she contemplated the place she ended up.

She would have been prepared for New York. But of course Audrey said she was too "Unexceptional" yet. But as Audrey had to go on a business trip to meet other rich business people at some fancy party, Chloé's dad convinced her to take her to this place. 

Not that business parties full of other rich people were something she really wanted to deal with. They were usually too condescending at best. A few of them could be creepy. Giving her looks that made her want to take a shower for a year. 

It was almost enough to make her want to stay in Paris. But the one thing that made her decide it wouldn't be too bad was who was hosting the party. 

Don't get her wrong. Vlad Masters definitely gave off some strange and downright intimidating vibes. But the few times Chloé had met him at events like this, he was one of the few adults who seemed to respect her, despite her age. And he only used his threatening vibes on any of the other men looking at her. 

That said, Chloé wasn't expecting much conversation with Vlad. They didn't usually talk much anyway, just polite conversation common at these things. And as Audrey was currently attempting to engage with him, almost as if she were blocking Chloé from getting near, it was unlikely she would.

"If you're going to commit a murder could you wait another twenty minutes? I have a bet going."

Chloé jumped, realizing someone was speaking to her. When she found who, her initial instinct was to glare. Blue eyes and black hair making her think of someone else. 

However, as she took in the rest of the context, she found someone new. And male. A boy about her age. 

"Who are you?" Chloé asked. 

"Head of security," the boy said. 

It was obviously a joke, from his tone and lopsided grin. And Chloé almost laughed at the idea of a teenager being any kind of security. 

But she noticed the way he stood, the way he analyzed her. It reminded her of Adrien, in a way. Seemingly all smiles and laid back, but far more capable than he looks. 

There was something else about him too. It actually reminded her of Vlad. The general vibes he gave off. But Vlad felt more… firey. Heat under his skin, waiting for the temper to snap. This boy felt more cold. Not emotionally, but like a snowfall that could quickly engulf you in a blizzard. 

"I think a name would be better," Chloé said. 

"Call me Danny then," the boy said, offering a hand. 

"Chloé Bourgeois," she replied, politely taking it. "So, judging by the fact that you didn't give me your last name, you don't want me guessing who you're connected to."

"You probably wouldn't know them," he said. "My family's known for their studies on the paranormal. They're scientists. And not really the kind for this kind of party."

"But you are?" She raised an eyebrow. 

"Absolutely not," he said. "But hey. Vlad's trying to buy his way to an apology by giving me money if I hang out and make sure nothing spooks the guests. Other than him, of course. Might as well put it in my college fund. So, you actually planning a murder or not?"

That almost made her laugh. A small smile on her face, Chloé's gaze drifted across the room to her mother. 

"No murder yet," Chloé said. "If I do kill someone, it'll be the local supervillain back in Paris."

"Heard something about that," Danny said. "My parents keep debating on checking it out. It's obviously paranormal and magical, but they specialize in Ghosts."

"Are they the Ghostbusters?" She did actually laugh at that one. 

"Something like that," he chuckled. 

All of a sudden, Danny stiffened up. It had to be a trick of the light, but she could've sworn a mist came out of his mouth. He frowned, looking around carefully. 

"Sorry, I have to go," Danny said. "A disturbance in the garden. See you around."

"Yeah, see you," Chloé sighed. 

As he ran off through the crowd, Chloé wondered how he knew about the "disturbance". Maybe he was actually part of the security team and had an earpiece in? 

Brushing the thought off, Chloé grabbed a drink from a passing waiter. Then she headed the opposite direction.

She wanted some time alone. It had been nice, talking to Danny. But the party was still overwhelming. She might be out of Paris, which meant less stares and whispers. But still too much interaction for her liking lately. 

Chloé headed out of the main ballroom. Few paid attention to her. Those that did were quickly dragged back to their conversations. 

As she wandered the halls, Chloé wondered if she could get lost in here. If her mother would notice. Maybe she could just. Not go home and just secretly live in Vlad's mansion. 

A tempting idea, if she could figure out how to do it. But for now, she settled for exploring. 

There was a library. Very nice. Bookshelves along every wall, except for a spot for a fireplace. Comfortable chairs and a couch to read on. 

She looked through the bookshelves. It seemed well stocked, despite the impossibility of ever reading them all. Most were nonfiction, texts on various subjects. A few seemed to be typical fiction, though Chloé didn't inspect those too close lest she judge Vlad's collection of trashy romance novels. 

What intrigued her was one large shelf, right across from the fireplace. These books actually looked well-used. Texts on the paranormal. Hadn't Danny said something about that? Between this and the familiarity with Vlad, perhaps it was a family-friend situation.

Dragging a finger along the spines of the books, she picked one at random. Pure curiosity more than actual interest. 

The book was soon dropped and forgotten when the shelf slid open to reveal a doorway. 

Now that had her curious and interested. 

A look over her shoulder at the door, and Chloé was in the new room. No, a new hall of stairs. Descending down stone steps. 

She was suddenly worried she would find some sort of kinky dungeon type place. Perhaps she should quit while she was ahead. 

It was the buzzing in her fingertips that made the decision for her. Something… familiar. 

It wasn't like the buzzing she felt near an Akuma, or near someone using a Miraculous. No, this felt more like Vlad. Like Danny. Whatever she was feeling from them, there was more of it down here. 

Eventually the stairway opened to a room. It looked like a laboratory of some kind. Weapons and tools of shiny metal and magenta accents lined the walls. There were a few that traded magenta for green, but not as if two people consistently shared a space. More like one occasionally left objects behind. 

The one thing in the room that was overwhelmingly green and not magenta was against one wall. 

It almost looked like a doorway of sorts. Or a Magic Portal, really. Swirls of green that she couldn't see into. And if she hadn't spent the last year and a half being attacked by Magical Supervillains and becoming a Hero herself, she would've assumed it was just a large tv screen embedded in the wall for aesthetics. 

The reminder of her time as a Hero brought back some bitter memories. 

She might not have been the best person, but she was a good Hero. Chloé would have gladly continued being Queen Bee, despite the risks, because she had felt like she finally found a purpose. But Ladybug told her no, she couldn't have the Miraculous anymore. For her safety of course. 

What a joke. Not only had Chloé been in more danger without it, as there was no way she could defend herself against Hawkmoth. But the other Heroes were still active, even with their identities known. 

With a sigh, Chloé attempted to distract herself. Walking around the room and investigating the weapons around the lab. They were strange. She wasn't a gun expert, but these didn't look normal. Not regular guns that shoot bullets. 

Were they alien weaponry? That didn't seem right. Chloé wasn't an expert, having never met an alien(as far as she was aware). But the weapons seemed very based on Earth designs, their sizes intended for average Human use. Maybe weapons for Humans to use on nonhumam creatures. 

Whatever it was, Chloé was now a bit curious. What did Vlad get up to when he wasn't hosting business parties like this? Did he perhaps moonlight as a superhero? With that Danny kid as the Robin to his Batman? Perhaps she should stay. Be the Jason Todd of the family. Though with less dying.

She almost laughed at the idea. But as a crack of thunder rang through the mansion, loud enough to be heard from this basement laboratory, she jumped, instinctively spinning around to look for an attack.

A second crack of thunder, and all the lights went dark.

Chloé was not afraid of the dark. She never had been, even as a child. 

But she was afraid now. Because this wasn't a normal blackout. In a mansion like this, there would be emergency generators. They didn't kick in, which meant this was likely something else. 

Amity Park was different from Paris. No Hawkmoth. No Akumas. But that didn't mean there was no danger. 

And the thing Chloé had become afraid of, after so many Akuma attacks and even Hawkmoth himself coming to her home, her room, and confronting her. The thing she was afraid of was being unable to fight back. 

Her breath began to quicken, the only noise she could hear in the dark room. Heart hammering in her chest, Chloé tried to calm herself down. This wasn't Paris. Whoever or whatever it was wasn't after her. 

But what if it was? What if this person had decided she would make a good target? What if Hawkmoth had followed her, hoping to get revenge for failing him as Miracle Queen? What if it was someone else, furious about what she had involuntarily done, knowing that if something happened here, Ladybug's Miraculous Cure would be too late?

Hands trembling, Chloé remembered the weapons on the wall. It wasn't her Miraculous, but it was something. She refused to go down without a fight. 

The only problem was that, in her panic, she had gotten turned around she couldn't remember which was she was facing. 

Blindly choosing a direction, Chloé kept a hand out in front of her, slowly moving it back and forth hoping she'd hit a wall. Her ragged breathing and the click of her heels on the floor being the only sounds. A good sign, she hoped. 

Her hand hit something. A wall, she thought. Somewhere to her left. Keeping her hand flat against it, she hoped to follow it until she found the weapon rack again. 

She kept walking, barely noting how the sound of her footsteps changed from heels-on-tile to heels-on-metal. Had the floor been metal? She couldn't remember. The stairs up had been stone so obviously she was still in the lab. 

The lights suddenly came back on, the blackout over. Yet Chloé wasn't nearly as blinded as she should have been by the sudden brightness. It was coming from behind her. Had she somehow found a different hallway out of the lab?

As she turned to head back to something familiar, a different brightness flickered on. But she was completely unaware, as all she could focus on was pain. 

Burning, crackling under her skin. Through every inch of her. Worse than anything she had ever felt, as Civilian, Hero, or Akuma. 

The pain began to subside. Not going away, but no longer the intense agony. Just an ache, but as if she had run a marathon around Paris without being transformed. Her throat still burned the worst though. Had she been screaming? She couldn't remember doing so, but it seemed likely given the pain.

Stumbling forward, she managed to find herself back in the lab. Yet her vision was blurry. So blurry, in fact, that when she looked down her white dress appeared black. 

The pain and exhaustion was too much for her. Pitching forward, everything went dark again.

--------

The next thing Chloé knew, she was somewhere soft. Everything still hurt, which made her not want to move. But she could hear two male voices arguing. 

"You should let me explain it to her."

"You will confuse and scare her with your morbid humor."

"And you'll just freak her out!"

"I have more experience in this."

"Not in explaining it!"

"I explained it to Danielle."

"And I explained it to everyone else because you had to be a fruitloop!"

"Are you still using that insult?"

"It still fits."

Registering that she should probably see what's goin on, Chloé went to get up. 

Her right arm must've slipped off whatever she was laying on, as she almost immediately slammed back down. The feeling that had her jolting upright instead of trying again to be slow, was that it felt like something hit the inside of her arm?!

Inspecting the limb, she didn't find anything wrong with it. It was there. No burns or bruises. The worst thing was a chipped manicure. 

As her gaze went further up her arm to her shoulder, she noticed something. A discoloration in her skin. It was hard to see, having to look nearly straight down and only being able to see what skin was showing. But there were thin lines across her shoulders and chest. She couldn't tell how far they went up her neck, or how much further they extended under her dress. 

The lines looked almost like lightning. It was then that she remembered the lab. The pain. But she swallowed down her fear.

"Well say goodbye to swimsuit season," Chloé muttered, her voice still a little shaky and her throat still raw. 

"Perhaps your humor will be helpful after all," one of the voices from earlier mused. 

Chloé jumped, having completely forgot that there were people in the room. One was Vlad, the other was the "head of security" kid. Danny, wasn't it? 

"What happened?" Chloé asked.

"You received quite a shock," Vlad replied. 

"Oh, and my humor is too much for her," Danny glared.

"Kind of used to puns in horrifying situations," Chloé said. "One of my best friends loves making puns to deflect dealing with things."

And okay yes she also did that. But she was not going to tell them that. Even if the looks they gave each other probably meant they guessed as much. 

"Where am I?" Chloé asked, looking around. 

"One of the guest rooms," Vlad explained. 

"Not a hospital?" She asked. 

"A hospital isn't quite equipped to handle… this," he said. 

"One of the guests was a doctor who did a general checkup," Danny said. "She was sure you probably just fainted from low blood sugar or something."

"And… and my mother?" Chloé asked. 

"She is back at her hotel," Vlad said, visibly bristling. "I may not be father of the year, but her lack of concern is appalling."

The exasperated look Danny gave him said there was a long story there. Chloé wasn't sure she wanted to hear it right now.

"So why would a hospital be bad?" Chloé asked instead. 

"That is quite a story," Vlad said. "Do you know what you were messing with in the laboratory?"

"I know it had weapons," she said. "Then the lights went out and I tried to find my way around."

"I think that makes her smarter than both of us," Danny said.

"I didn't enter an unstable device on a dare," Vlad glared. “I knew what I was doing.”

"You stuck your face right up to a prototype device not knowing if it was stable or not," he retorted. "You're lucky you only half died.".

Vlad glared at him again. Chloé could have sworn he man's eyes flashed red. It was more than just a trick of the light. 

He said a hospital wasn't a good situation for her now. He implied that he'd had something similar happen to him. And those books on the paranormal, leading to a lab… 

Vlad wasn't Human. At least not anymore. Danny wasn't either, most likely. And Chloé realized, with mounting horror, that she probably wasn't either.

Once more she focused on her hands. What… was she now? Chloé flipped through her knowledge of the paranormal. It couldn't be a Vampire or Werewolf. She didn't get bit or infected with anything. Most other creatures she could remember Humans becoming had very specific circumstances or longer processes. 

Then, she recalled something Danny had said. His family deals with Ghosts. 

As if to confirm her suspicions, her hands flickered out of existence. An involuntary whimper escaping her throat. 

"I… I'm dead, aren't I?" Chloé asked. 

"Only half way," Danny said. 

"That is nowhere as reassuring as you think it is," Vlad said. 

This time it was Danny's turn to glare. But his eyes flashed a green color instead of red. 

Meanwhile, Chloé was having a crisis. She died. She fucking died. But she was still here. 

She was vaguely aware of their voices. Both males had come closer, sitting beside her on the bed. She knew one, or maybe both of them, was telling her to breathe. To focus. 

She tried to focus on how strange it was, sitting between them. One burning, one freezing. Was that related to… This? 

It helped ground her. Remind her that she wasn't alone. 

"That's right," Danny said. "You're not alone in this. Which is already better than what we got."

"You could have had a mentor," Vlad said. 

"But you were still evil back then," he smirked.

Oh boy oh boy. This was going to get oh so complicated. 

[ayamari-no-goshi]

To Join the Whispers (5)

AO3

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

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

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

Parings: none

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

The Ops Center was very similar to mission control rooms Jason saw throughout his journeys after his resurrection. Parts of it were even like the main computer of the Batcave, and Jazz explained that it had the ability to switch between a plane, blimp, and car forms. Jack and Maddie really were giving Wayne Industries R&D department a run for their money. The only thing that struck him as odd was the working refrigerator Danny off-handily mentioned was filled with emergency ham.

“Before we talk about anything, I want to make sure this room isn’t bugged.” Maintaining secrecy was a core part of Batman’s training. Sure, he was still technically legally dead, but he had been seen enough times recently that he needed to remember to keep up his civilian façade.

Danny raised a questioning eyebrow before smacking himself in the forehead. “That’s right. You overheard me talking about the Fruitloop’s stupid spy devices.”

“The what now?” Jazz crossed her arms as her eyes narrowed at her brother. “Did you forget to tell me something?”

The teen rubbed the back of his neck. “Vlad sometimes puts these little spy robots in the house. They look like bugs. I haven’t seen any since I destroyed the last couple.”

“Danny! That’s important!”

Chuckling at their antics, Jason pulled out a prototype pair of googles he’d been working on. Since the helmet was a bit conspicuous when he was out and about, he’d been working on an alternative. “Give me a second to run a quick scan.”

They watched in silence as he looked around the room. While there were still some kinks to work out, he did get a couple hits. Walking over to the first one, he found an insect-like machine sitting on top of a few wires. After showing it to an alarmed Danny and Jazz, he crushed it before moving on to the next one. Three more were destroyed before he was comfortable enough to talk.

“How does he keep getting them in here?” Danny wondered as Jazz darkly muttered something about checking the bathrooms.

“If they can fly, they can easily get into an open door, but they’re also small enough to crawl through gaps,” Jason mentioned as he put his goggles away in one of his jacket pockets. He might want to invest in bots like this. They were much more discreet than the devices he currently used.

“I’m going to go through this house and seal up everything I can after this.” Jazz’s scowl softened as she turned her attention back to Jason. “You wanted to know what’s going on with you, right?”

“That’d be nice,” he glanced down at his now normal looking hand. “I have no idea what that was or why that suddenly started. There are others I know who have gone through something similar to me.” When confusion flashed across Danny’s face, Jason elaborated. “They had the same type of exposure I did, but none of them had lasting effects. And, none of them have displayed anything like this.”

“Others?”

“Yeah, you met a few of them recently.” Debating on how much he could safely say, he added, “A regular pain in the ass watches over something similar to your parents’ Portal. He mostly uses it for healing injuries and keeping himself young and insane. Getting exposed to it is an occupational hazard when dealing with him. It’s more like a pool though.” That should be enough information for now.

Danny’s eyes widened in understanding. “Ectoplasm is a weird thing. Exposure to it can cause different effects. Most of my school experienced ghost-like abilities when they were infected by what I can really only describe as a ghost mosquito, but everyone recovered with no lasting effects.”

“Is that what happened?” Jazz shot her brother a look. “I had almost contributed that whole thing to a mass hallucination.”

“It’s probably better to think of it like that. It was one of Spectra’s plans.”

Spectra? That name sounded familiar. “Was that the ghost who impersonated a school counselor?”

“Yep.” The kid grimaced at the thought. “She feeds on misery and is well practiced at getting under people’s skins. Anyways,” he continued with a dismissive wave of the hand, “going back to ectoplasm. For me and Vlad, we both survived accidents with it that should have killed us. I had signs something was wrong almost immediately, but Vlad mentioned his powers came gradually. But, he did get very sick for several years first.”

“So… exposures usually don’t have lasting effects.” That didn’t really help him much.

“What happened to me was a fluke… Due to reasons, I know that the accident could be replicated with the same results if I happened to lose my powers.” His gaze momentarily grew distant before he shivered. “But, we don’t know if I am the only one who would have survived it.” He turned his attention back to Jason and studied him for a moment. “It’s possible since you already are ‘contaminated’, the naturally high levels of ambient ectoplasm could be affecting you.” He glanced at Jazz. “Do you think I should take him to Frostbite?”

“Who?”

“One of Danny’s allies in the Ghost Zone.” Jazz tapped her cheek a few times as she considered it. “That might not be a bad idea. It’s early enough to make the trip and get back in time to get ready for tonight. I guess you’d like me to get our parents out of the house?”

“That’d be great.”

“Fine.” Jazz huffed as Danny shot her an innocent grin. “But you owe me. Make sure to let Sam and Tucker know where you’re going to be in case they need to reach you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Danny typed something on his phone before showing it to Jason. It was just a message about him going into the Ghost Zone for a bit. There was no mention of the why. “I figured you probably don’t want my friends to know.”

“You’d be correct.” He was probably going to have to check how much Danny may or may not have mentioned to his friends. It was one thing to tell them his secrets, but another to reveal his or his family’s secrets.

…

Their plan was very simple. Once their parents finally came up to the Ops Center, Jazz and Danny would announce they got a report of a ghost all the way across the town to get them out of the house. While Jazz kept an eye on them from the safety of the house, Danny would lead Jason into the Ghost Zone to meet Frostbite.

It was a bit too simplistic for his taste. Who would fall for such a simple rouse? There was also no way Dick would let him go without tagging along. Danny reluctantly agreed that was fine.

Much to his surprised, when Maddie and Jack finally appeared with his brother, who almost looked shell-shocked, Jazz immediately announced that they got a reading about a ghost in one of the parks. Both of them immediately drew weapons from somewhere (he needed to find out exactly how they hid those ecto-weapons on them without them being obvious) before dashing off down the stairs. Moments later, they heard a roaring engine and screeching tired.

Jason stood there in stunned silence as he tried processing exactly what happened. “How… how did that work? That shouldn’t have worked.”

Danny gave him a tired smile. “It works every single time with them.”

“Guns blazing and all?”

“Yep.”

“What exactly did I just watch?” Dick finally asked with obvious confusion coloring his voice.

Jason patted his brother’s shoulder. “That was a distraction, Dickie-bird. Anyways, are you up for a trip?”

…

It took a little bit of coaxing from Danny to get Jason to enter the vehicle he called the Specter Speeder, which was a weird combination of a boat and some of the spaceships he’d seen in the past. Danny explained it was the fastest mode of travel through the Ghost Zone which waited for them on the other side of the Portal. Questionable vehicles he could handle. Going through that Portal, that was another thing.

However, Dick seemed excited about the situation and happily boarded the Speeder. He had removed his civies to reveal his Nightwing costume, much to Danny’s and Jazz’s surprise. Since they didn’t know who or what they’d encounter, it was the best way to protect his identity. While Jason didn’t have his helmet, his prototype goggles and lower mask were worn for the same reason.

“Changing up the look?” Dick just smiled as Jason joined him and Danny in the Speeder.

Jason just rolled his eyes. “Would you rather me carry the helmet, which I should remind you contains explosives, everywhere I go?”

“Point taken.”

Danny, now in his Phantom form, paused from pressing buttons on the control panel to stare at him. “You're willing wear something on your head that can explode?”

He shrugged. “A lot of villains like trying to remove masks or helmets. If a helmet explodes, there’s always a chance it’ll happen again.” One of the cardinal rules of Batman’s teachings was that criminals were a cowardly and superstitious lot, and many of them were. Unfortunately, not all of them.

While Danny continued to stare at him, Dick laughed. “We watched your parents pull weaponry from out of thin air, but you’re shocked by this.”

“But it can…” Danny stopped mid sentence and rubbed his eyes. “You know what? Half of my parents’ inventions explode too. I’m going to stop thinking about it.” He pushed a few more buttons before grabbing the controls.

The Speeder lifted and smoothly drifted forwards. Danny tapped a green earpiece. “Jazz, can you hear me okay?”

Her voice came over a speaker system in the Speeder. “Loud and clear. I’ll do my best to keep Mom and Dad busy while you’re gone. Stay safe!”

“Ready to see the land of the dead?” Danny questioned as Jason and Dick moved forward to get a better view of the windshield. Before either of them could reply, he moved the controls forcing the Speeder forward as it slipped through the Portal.

Jason stiffened as they crossed the threshold. Images of being forced back to life and waking up in a pool of glowing green danced across his vision. Echoes of pain danced across his body. But it vanished almost as quickly as it came.

“Are you okay?” Danny glanced up at him. “I forgot that sometimes you can get an echo of what happened. I’m not sure if I just got used to it or if it stopped happening after a while.”

“Hood?” Dick steady gaze and uneasy tone showed his brotherly concern.

He shook his head. “Bad memories. It’ll pass.”

The Pit whispered, almost gleefully, as they got their first view of the so-called Ghost Zone. Swirling bands of green were only broken up by the site of floating islands and the occasionally floating door. In the distance, Jason could see almost familiar shapes. Were they stairs? Maybe walls? If it wasn’t for how active the Pit was, he might have been in awe.

Unlike the other times the Pit was so active, he wasn’t overcome with the obsessive thoughts. Instead, there was just recognition for something similar, like when he returned to Gotham after his time away.

As they traveled, Danny explained that the islands and doors often were claimed by various ghosts. Each area had become shaped by the influence of the resident ghost. Danny described some of them as they passed them. For example, one island contained a large manor building which Danny explained was a sprawling library owned by a ghost called the Ghost Writer. Apparently, the ghost did not appreciate intruders, especially if they caused any damage to his books. If he was honest, Jason wanted to peek inside. Maybe there were some rare first editions Alfred would like.

Soon, they started approaching what appeared to be a giant block of ice and snow, and the temperature inside the Speeder started to drop. Danny asked Dick to take the controls, “I just need you to keep it straight for a moment,” before disappearing for a few moments. He reemerged carrying two heavy coats.

“You’re going to need these,” he explained as he passed them out and reclaimed the controls. “This is the Realm of the Far Frozen, and it’s just as cold as it sounds. It’s one of the only places in the Ghost Zone where you can find a medical center.”

They touched down what seemed to be a few minutes later. Before he opened the hatch to the Speeder, Danny hesitantly explained, “Ah, you’ll hear Frostbite call me the ‘Great One.’ I might have helped stop the old ghost king from taking over both the Ghost Zone and Earth at one point.”

Jason shared a look with Dick. That was definitely a story he’d like to hear. While Danny didn’t seem too keen to talk about it, but maybe this Frostbite would.

Once they exited the ship, they found themselves surrounded by a group of ghosts Danny only could describe as looking like a cartoonish depiction of the Yeti. The one in center, who was distinguished by an icy arm which contained visible bones, moved forward and happily greeted Danny with a bear hug.

After escaping from the grip, Danny introduced them to the leader, now identified as Frostbite. He then gave a quick explanation as to why they were there. The yeti’s expression grew more and more concerned as Danny spoke.

“That is rather odd. Come,” Frostbite beckoned to Jason and Dick, “I will have my people run a few tests. I would also like to listen to your story. Perhaps that holds some answers.”

After leading them into what originally appeared to be a carved-out cavern in an icy wall, Frostbite led them to an intricately designed door which opened to reveal a sparking medical center. If he hadn’t just come from what appeared to be a frozen wasteland, Jason would have thought he walked into a state-of-the-art hospital. He hadn’t expected to see such technology in this place. It was also a great deal warmer than the icy exterior.

Frostbite instructed a few other of his yetis to get a few things ready before instructing Jason to remove his coat and shirt. With Dick and Danny present, it wasn’t really something he wanted to do. Neither of them needed to see that scar. However, Frostbite explained it would be easier for him to check for certain vitals.

After some encouragement from his brother, Jason just grumbled a bit before finally complying. The feel of the room, which was originally pleasant, turned tense as he heard gasps from those in the rooms. Yeah, it wasn’t normal for living people to have dissection scars.

“What… what happened?” Danny’s voice was barely audible.

“Told ya, kid, I was dead before I came back.” He gestured to the scar. “This is my permanent souvenir.”

“Little wing…” Dick didn’t pay any attention when Danny raised an eyebrow at the nickname. Instead, he moved forward to give a brotherly hug. “None of us knew…”

“And I wanted it that way.”

“I should have been there.”

“Don’t pull this fucking shit!” He snapped as he pushed his brother away. “What happened was my fault. I got duped and went in alone. Don’t you dare blame yourself for my stupidity.” He breathed heavily a few times as the greenish fog in his vision dissipated. Strong emotions were apparently a bad thing in this place. He really didn’t need to fall into a bout of madness in front of people who were trying to help him. “Don’t go telling anyone else. I don’t need anyone else blaming themselves.”

Frostbite politely coughed to remind them he was there. Once making sure everything was okay, he requested for Jason to explain what exactly happened to him. So, he did, with the least amount of detail possible. Danny and Frostbite winced several times while Dick hovered silently.

When the ghost pressed for information about the Pit, he looked to Dick for help. How much should he say? How much could he say? For him, it was the hardest part of the tale to come to terms with, and he still hated talking about it.

Dick seemed to catch the drift and took over in the explanations. He kept it brief. The Pit could both heal the sick and dying but kill the healthy. For most people, it temporarily enhanced their bodies but brought madness. He also talked about the color, that eerie glowing green.

“Being placed in that was how you returned?” Frostbite seemed horrified.

“Yeah.” Memories of coming back to life once again flashed across his vision.

“I have heard of such places,” the Yeti mentioned after some of his people ran a few scans. Jason had been allowed to replace his shirt. “They are pools of ectoplasm that form in areas where areas of the Infinite Realms leak into your world. But they are easily corrupted. I take it there are times where your thoughts and emotions become overwhelming?”

“You could say that.”

Frostbite nodded as one of his assistants handed him what appeared to be a printout. “While I am unsure how your unique situation caused this, I can see there was a permanent bonding between you and the ectoplasm from those waters. However, the corruption of it could cause what I could only imagine to be a type of obsessive madness in humans. Something similar can occur in ghosts if the ectoplasm circulating in their bodies becomes infected or poisoned.”

“I’m following so far.” The explanation made sense. Danny had mentioned exposure to ectoplasm could cause enhance emotions and cause obsessive thoughts. While it felt nice to have some proof his thoughts had been affected, he knew most of the havoc he caused couldn’t be blamed solely on that. “But why am I suddenly more ghostly?”

“I believe the corrupted ectoplasm in your system is slowly being filtered out by the clean ambient ectoplasm in Amity. This is the first time since…” the yeti frowned as he struggled with a word, “Ah… waking up, you’ve been around so much ectoplasm?”

“You can say ‘revived’, ‘returned from the dead’, ‘rose again’, whatever the hell you want.” He hated when people tried to dance around the topic. Sure, he was stingy about certain details, but he wasn’t afraid to say he died and came back. “But, I don’t think I have.”

Frostbite nodded. “For us ghosts, and those in between, like the Great One, being around ectoplasmic rich environments helps strengthen us. You can think of it like…” He frowned for a moment.

“Maybe like how we get nutrients from food?” Dick supplied as he rubbed his stomach.

That reminded him. They needed to get more of those Nasty Burgers before they left town, preferably without Bruce. Who ate burgers with a fork and knife? He guessed that was the one downside of being completely raised by Alfred.

The yeti nodded. “Yes, like that. Being away from places like this can weaken ghosts. The Great One is able to supplement with human food and isn’t affected as severely.”

“Wait, wait, wait! You’re saying I could have trouble if I leave Amity for long periods?” Danny almost sounded panicked.

“It’s a possibility.”

“Why didn’t this get brought up before?”

Frostbite almost seemed puzzled. “You never asked of it before.”

Danny smacked his face. “Of course that’s why.”

He partially tuned out Danny as he tried to piece together what Frostbite was getting at. “So, because I’m around more ectoplasm than usual, it’s accumulating?” he slowly asked.

“Yes!” the yeti replied with a clap. “As a result, you’re experiencing surges as your body grow accustomed to it.”

“Like what happened shortly after my accident?” When the attention turned to him, a greenish tinge came to Danny’s face. Was he blushing? “I fell through things a lot in that first month.”

“Is this going to be permanent?” To Jason, that was the more pressing manner.

“Probably not, but it is a possibility.” Not liking that answer, Jason pressed the ghost for more information. “The way you are now, you should begin to return to your normal once you leave the area.”

“The way I am now?”

“Yes, our scans show that you haven’t formed a core which you can think of as a ghostly heart. As long as that doesn’t form, your situation will improve. And with that corrupted ectoplasm being cleared from your body, it should help make any obsessions or intense emotions easier to control. However, I would recommend having a strong support system with you. Even among ghosts where our emotions and obsessions literally give us our afterlife, having those we trust around us helps prevent us from losing ourselves to it. Having been in contact with so much corrupted ectoplasm, I can’t imagine how intense those could have been.”

Jason nodded once. That also made sense. Having Roy and Kori in his life and slowly reconnecting with his family helped him bring back a clarity he hadn’t had since prior to his death. But, there was one thing about what Frostbite said unsettled him. “How or why would a core form? Would I be like Glowstick here if that happened?”

Frostbite frowned again. “I am unsure. The Great One and Plasmius are the only two halfas we have encountered in the last several centuries. The ones that were whispered about in the past have long since left your world and ours and did not leave any clues about how they came to be. We do know that intense and sudden ectoplasmic exposure created both the Great One’s and Plasmius’, but as you are already in a somewhat in between state, even being in this realm for too long could start that formation.”

That presented an interesting dilemma. Could he eventually become an entity like Danny? Just think of what he could do with those powers! It would be so easy for him to slip into Arkham and finally end the Joker’s reign of terror. By why stop at Joker? He could go after so many other mass murdering shitbags.

No, he needed to stop that train of thought. He wasn’t a good enough person to be able to handle responsibility like that. It would be too much power, too much temptation. He was activity trying to redeem himself, and he would lose everything he gained if he let himself side like that.

“Hood?” Dick’s voice and hesitant hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts.

“I’m good.” He turned to Frostbite as he pulled his borrowed coat on. “Thanks for all your help, but I don’t think you want someone like me joining those ranks. Let’s head back.”

…

Danny didn’t speak after they boarded the Specter Speeder again. He worked in silence as he maneuvered the vehicle back into what seemed to be the Ghost Zone’s equivalent of the air before heading back towards the Portal. His motions almost seemed mechanical suggesting he might be upset about something.

Dick silently suggested that he say something to help. Like what? He wasn’t exactly sure why the kid was upset. Could it be because there weren’t many people like Danny? He had openly mentioned he was curious if Jason was someone like him.

“Are you mad that I don’t want to share your situation?”

Danny didn’t answer him. Instead, his hands tightened on the controls. At least he figured out what was bothering him.

Jason sighed and leaned against the wall. “Danny, I’m not a good person. Giving me that type of power would only end badly, for everyone. You don’t need someone like me ruining your reputation by proxy.”

“You should give yourself more credit.”

Did Dick really just say that to him? “Did you hit your head or something? You and Arsenal are the ones who like to remind me about the eight heads I had in a duffle bag when I began strong arming Black Mask. I also tried, repeatedly, to maim you and the others.” Maim was just a polite way of dancing around the fact he had tried killing is brothers. “You kicked me off a train because of that.”

“I tried to help you, and I said I was sorry!”

“Why? I was trying to kill you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Danny finally spoke. His eyes danced back and forth between him and Dick. He eventually pointed at Dick. “You kicked your brother off a train, and you,” he turned towards Jason, “had heads in a duffle bag? What the hell?”

He just shrugged. “I needed to get the attention of some crime lords, and it made sense at the time.”

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

Notes: In the newer comics, Jason has what look like modified googles and something to cover his mouth as opposed to his tradition helmet. No idea why the change other than it’s probably easier to carry around than a helmet. If you’ve seen Young Justice Season 3 and what’s currently out of season 4, it’s a lot like what he’s wearing there.

Mentioned in the Under the Red Hood comic, Alfred has a collection of first edition novels and had a yearly book exchange which was not commonly known.

In the comics, the Lazarus Pits contain a chemical called Dionesium which is what gives it the restorative properties. However, impure Dionesium can cause the Pit Madness. In the Arrowverse, they say the Pit contains traces of the souls which have bathed in them which contributes to that madness. Both make sense... I personally like the soul concept better, but both explanations work fine in the context of this fic.

Yes, Bruce eats burgers with a fork and knife. That has been shown in the comics. And yes, Dick did kick Jason off a train during the events of "Battle for the Cowl".

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 2

In which: Danny thinks, Talia is concerned, and we finally see Ra's al Ghul's pride an joy: the Lazarus pit

AO3 | Prologue | 1 | [ 2 ] | 3 |

---

DANNY COUNTS THE DAYS by the hours he is in the monitor room. One hour is all that he is allowed. One hour after a day of learning and fighting, of ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘no sir’ and ‘stand up straighter, boy’ and ‘remember that you have feet.’ Of being handed a sword only to have it knocked out of his hand (pickitup-pickitup-pick-it-up). Of ‘here’s eight plants, only one of them is the antidote to the poison you just ingested, and you better hope you remember the difference because this is the life you live now, Danny.’ This is what you agreed to for some time in front of a few television screen.

One hour. Sixty minutes. Three thousand and six hundred measly fucking seconds was all he got to see his family before he’s ushered back to his room. Dark. Barren. Windowless.

God, when was the last time he saw the stars?

He spent his multitude of ‘one hours’ simply watching. That was all he could do, really. Watch and collect snatches of Amity—of Before. Like torn pieces of an antique photograph, unable to be restored but too precious to throw away.

Talia would call him too sentimental. Danny would love to remind Talia that if it wasn’t for her and her freaky older-than-dirt dad, Danny wouldn’t even need to be fucking sentimental.

Breathe in for four. Hold for seven. Breathe out for eight.

Repeat.

Repeat again.

One more time.

There’s a voice in Danny’s head that sounded too much like Jazz telling him that this kind of behavior was unhealthy. The Jazz in Danny’s head didn’t exactly know why, though they’re both pretty sure that constantly watching your family and friends move on after your death probably isn’t good for one’s sanity. Especially since Danny isn’t really dead.

Well.

Dead-er.

He isn’t—

(family-love-mememe-why aren’t they looking harder-don’t they care-they care-for their own good-what about-happy-no-me-them-me-them).

Truth be told, Danny isn’t angry that everyone in Amity seemed to be getting on with their lives. God, he’s seen how his suppsed-death affected them. He can’t—he won’t be responsible for holding them back from living when he can’t even be sure if he’ll ever be able to return to Amity again.

(He’s seen what happens when someone refuses to move on. Hell, the Zone is full of it. It’s either you obsess with grief…or you try to rip it out of yourself entirely.)

Danny wanted them to live on. Be happy. (With him.)The FentonWorks portal remained under constant vigilance, and since Pariah Dark, most ghosts recognized Amity as his haunt and tended to stay away. With any major threats he could only hope that Clockwork would step in somehow and at least keep it contained. Tucker and Sam were more than capable enough to handle most of his regular rogues gallery, especially if Red Huntress was backing them up too.

Amity…didn’t really need Danny anymore to protect it.

(Family-happy-protectprotectprotect-what?-safe-not safe-not needed).

For all that they tried to find out, Danny, Sam, and Tucker never did manage to figure out what his ghostly obsession was. Sam went out on a limb and said Heroism which…wasn’t quite right but fit the bill well enough.

And what was the point of heroes?

To build a world where they aren’t needed.

------

There was a noticeable shift in her son’s demeanor after he learned of the true nature of his parentage. Though it should be noted that while Talia showed a photograph of her beloved to Daniel, she did not disclose his true identity as to Ra’s al Ghul’s orders. Her father reasoned that it was more advantageous for Daniel to develop a closer connection with the maternal side of his family as opposed to the Waynes—a name that would be more familiar and thus better viewed than the strange people who kidnapped him.

No; ‘Recovered’ would be the most appropriate term. Daniel was her child. Would always be her child, no matter who raised him.

Daniel was…quieter. Somber. His eyes glazed yet sharp—blue eyes bloodshot despite maintaining a regular sleep schedule. Like pit madness with neither the madness nor the pit; simply the look of rage that bubbles beneath the skin, close to boiling over yet never there.

He continued to watch his false family obsessively. Yet…he had taken to watching Talia as well. Quietly. Unobtrusively. Small glances at the corner of his eye. Contemplative looks with furrowed brows whenever he presumed she did not notice. He had even taken to meticulously check his reflection in the mirror; pinching cheeks and turning his face this way and that, cataloguing his features as if to find what parts of him was from her—or perhaps if there was any part of him that ever resembled the paranormal scientists he once called parents.

Even if the physical similarities were not there, the DNA testing—regardless of the anomalies found in Daniel’s genes—was proof enough that he was her son.

“You have been keeping with your diet regimen, yes?” Asked one of the League’s physicians. He pressed his gloved fingers against Daniel’s skin, brushing the ridges of his ribcage. Marring her son’s skin was a large, faint scars. Fractals branching across his torso like the branches of a gruesome tree. “You are still too thin.”

“Fast metabolism,” Daniel mumbled. He is sat on an examination table in their medical wing, black shirt neatly folded beside him. His figure, though not skeletal, per se, was gaunt. His ribs poking from his pallor skin, stomach still concave for a boy who ate double the portions than any other member of the League of Assassins. “I’ve had it since the accident, but it’s never gotten this bad.”

The physician hummed, jotting his notes down along side the results of Danny’s vitals. The exact numbers were unknown to Talia, standing as she was by the door, though she could infer the results from previous physical examinations. (Low blood pressure and core body temperature. Faint pulse, slight tachycardia,) “Do you have any ideas why?”

Daniel’s lips thinned, eyes darting to the side as he always did whenever Phantom was related in anyway. His face was too open; Talia needed to train him out of that. “My…” He took a deep breath. “Ghosts aren’t supposed to stay very long in the Material world. It lacks the ectoplasmic energies that helps them ‘stay alive,’ so to speak. Usually they can supplement some of this by filtering some of the ambient energy in the atmosphere to strengthen themselves—it’s why Amity was such a hotspot for ghosts because of the large concentration of ectoplasm in the atmosphere—but it still isn’t a good long term solution.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Since I’m still somewhat human, I’m able to spend way more time in the Material world and can substitute spending days in the Zone by instead filtering ambient energy and eating.”

The physician made another noise, the tip of his pen tapping against the side of the clipboard. “So I take it then that, as your other half doesn’t have access to this ‘ambient energy’ as you call it, it is forced to take what energy it needs from the calories you’ve consumed, yes?”

“Basically.”

“What will happen if you do not have enough calories to supplement this energy?”

Danny shrugged, a rueful smile on his face. “Dunno. Maybe this time, death will stick.”

Talia narrowed her eyes.

Such a thing will not happen. She had been forced to give up on Daniel once, and then later on she lost her youngest to her beloved. Never again.

This child was hers.

------

“Father, did you not say that the anomalies found in Daniel’s DNA were similar in composition to the Lazarus pit?”

Ra’s al Ghul did not pause in pause in his reading to look up at Talia. The bird shaped magnifying glass held steady above the ancient manuscripts spread across his desk, eyes focused on the words and figures carefully inked onto the page. “Yes.” He set aside the magnifying glass and gently flipped the page. “It is what strengthened my belief of the connection between the Lazarus pit and these spirits.”

Talia straightened. “With your permission I would like to place Daniel into the pit.”

Her fathered looked up, curious. “You forget what the pit does to those who are in good health.”

She placed the results of Daniel’s most recent physical exam on to of his desk. Ra’s sat back in his chair and idly flipped through the folder, reading the contents as if no different to reading the newspaper instead of how his grandson is slowly being starved by his own biology. “Well, well. This would be a problem.”

He closed the folder, a wry grin curling at his lips. “Have him ready for tomorrow. I am curious as to how the pit would affect one already half-dead.”

------

Danny is awoken by Talia sometime the next day. “Come,” she said. “You do not need to change, so come quickly.”

He got off the bed with a silent groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Where are we going?”

“Not far. Somewhere that will help you.”

He snorted. “Letting me go home would help me.”

Talia doesn’t answer, simply waiting for him at the door. Danny groaned, combing away as much of his bedhead with his fingers as he followed her.

For the first time since being dragged to Nanda Parbat, Danny is allowed to venture beyond his small section of the compound.

He didn’t really know what to expect.

Still didn’t stop everything from being so…anticlimactic.

Beyond the steel door, normally kept locked and guarded by two of his shadow guards, was a hallway. Endlessly long with a wide pathway, lit enough by the fluorescent lights overhead but not enough to banish the shadows that clung to the stone walls. The hallway looked empty. ‘Looked’ being the key word, here. Even if he couldn’t see them, Danny would bet on his half-life that the shadows were teeming with life.

Talia led the way through the maze of twists and turns (were they underground?), a couple of shadow guards quietly following behind them.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Talia looked at him from over her shoulder for a moment, then turned away. “Have you heard of the Lazarus pits?”

“Lazarus? Like the guy who came back to life?” Neither of his parents were really religious. His dad only really Baptist in name because he was born into a Baptist family that, too, wasn’t overly strict in their religion. The only reason why Danny knew of this Lazarus guy was because of Mr. Lancer’s unit on Greco-Roman and Christian allusions.

Talia nodded, turning a corner. “The Lazarus pits are natural pools with restorative properties, capable of rejuvenating the body, healing grievous injuries, and even bringing the dead back to life.”

Danny nearly tripped over his own feet. “What? That’s—” Impossible. He ran up to Talia, wildly gesticulating with his hands. “What’s dead is dead. Resurrecting the dead goes against the natural law of the universe!”

“Well, you seem to be doing fine.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “That’s different. I’m still dead, even if my entire existence seems like the but end of a Schrodinger’s joke.”

“Be that as it may, what I speak is truth.” She stopped in front of a door and opened it. Then, stepping aside to usher Danny in first. “See of yourself.”

Danny stepped inside, Talia following behind him, and—

Oh.

Before he even saw the pit, he could feel it. A low and steady hum reminiscent of the ghost portal. But…different. Not necessarily fainter but garbled, like hearing someone speak underwater.

The room was a large, open space, with stone walls framed by red wooden pillars. It was dim, lit only by the green glow of the pit that consumed the majority of the space. A square pool of too-clear waters and toxic-looking steam rising from the surface.

The waters felt of the Zone but…not.

“Ah, Daniel.” He nearly jumped out of his own skin. Ra’s al Ghul stepped out of the shadows behind him, hands folded behind his back. The green glow highlighted the sharp contours of his face; the shadows that clung to him only making his visage harsher. “It is good to see you.”

Danny greeted the Demon’s Head with a League salute. “Grandfather.”

The word felt foreign on his tongue despite being in English. To formal for a boy who never really had the chance to interact with his own grandparents. But Danny was told to refer to Ra’s like this, and so he did. (He was only grateful Talia didn’t insist on calling her ‘mother.’)

Ra’s al Ghul was an enigma. Centuries old yet he looked only about a decade older than his mom and dad. (Jack and Maddie Fenton will always be his mom and dad. They raised him. Loved him, in their own eccentric, science-y way. No blood test or adoption or ninja-assassins could change that). Like Danny’s still-unnamed biological father, Ra’s carried himself with theatrical purpose. Comically villainous in his attire and grand gestures, though unlike Vlad, Ra’s had this overwhelmingly intimidating presence that engulfed whatever room he stepped in.

Ra’s was a man that commanded attention as opposed to demanding it. And now, at the focus of the man’s calculating gaze, Danny could not help but stand stiff at attention.

“You’re mother was right,” Ra’s said. Danny barely restrained himself from perking up at that word. “You are wasting away, Daniel.”

Tell me something I don’t know.

“Well, at least you still have that fire in you.”

Danny startled, slapping his hand over his mouth. Shit, he didn’t know he said that out loud. Out of the corner of his eye, Talia suppressed a small smile.

“You have that in common with the Detective,” Ra’s continue, circling Danny like a carrion that spotted its next meal. “That and the rather foolish notion on not properly reporting the extent of your injuries.”

“With all due respect, grandfather, I wasn’t expecting on staying here for this long.”

Ra’s gave him a knowing look. “But something is keeping you here, isn’t it?”

“Keeping my family and friends hostage is a pretty good motivator, apparently.” An insidious thought bubbled in Danny’s mind. But that isn’t all, is it?”

“I have consulted your mother and your physician as to the nature of your condition, and I have decided that the Lazarus pit would be a sufficient way to restore your health.” He gestured to the pool. “It appears that your DNA shares several similarities to the composition to the Lazarus pit.”

Danny crouched at the edge of the pit, hovering his hand above the water’s surface. “It’s because it contains ectoplasm. An impure kind, I think.”

“Will the impurities be harmful to you?”

He pursed his lips. “I don’t think so? My body can filter out the impurities just fine, it’s just that I’ve never encountered thistype of ectoplasm before. It’s so clear and—aqueous, I think is the word.”

There’s a strange glint in Ra’s eyes. Dare Danny say it, it even looked mischievous. It made him uneasy, and just as Danny made a move to step back, Ra’s al Ghul picked him up by the collar of his night shirt—

And threw Danny into the Lazarus Pit.