YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.
There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.
There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.
Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.
And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.
"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.
But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...
"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.
He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.
"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."
"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.
His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.
"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?
"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."
Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...
"What's the price?"
The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.
He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.
The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."
"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?
"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."
Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.
Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.
And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?
"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.
He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.
"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.
"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."
There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.
Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.
Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.
"I accept."
He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.
Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.
There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.
Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.
(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)
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qtoey time loop au, where everything is the same as in canon up until episode 7. q finds out about toey's feelings, storms out, watches toey drive away, and then... something happens. maybe toey switches schools for some reason. maybe his parents need him back home. maybe he just disappears. whatever the reason is, toey leaves behind no way to contact him and disappears from q's - and everyone else's - life.
and so q is left by himself, forced to figure out his feelings and simultaneously grieve a relationship that didn't even get a chance, and meanwhile he doesn't even know if toey is okay or happy or safe or anything, and he doesn't know what to do except desperately and fervently pray for a second chance, for an option to fix this, just one opportunity and he promises to whoever is listening he wouldn't let go again so easily. but of course it's not that easy, it never is, so he keeps living and watches phumpeem get together and chainpun flirt and tanfang love each other so openly and he aches.
and then. a year later. at loy krathong. he finds a small, shabbily made basket that barely even looks like one. and for some reason q feels compelled to pick it up, gently place it on the slide and watch it go down. and when it lands in the water he closes his eyes and prays, one more time: please. one chance.
and nothing happens, obviously. because q has already lost his chance and his heart. he almost wants to laugh.
- and then he opens his eyes and finds himself on peem's doorstep, just about to walk in, with the voices of everyone else faintly audible. and q freezes, because this is not where he was, he doesn't know what just happened, why - what - how - and then nothing else really matters because he hears matt say something and then the voice that replies is one he hasn't heard in months. and that - it cannot be here it cannot be happening, what -
and he half walks, half runs into the room and hears toey say 'Pencil Senior is meant to be with Milk Frappe Boy only' and q's heart rises and drops at the same time. that's toey. standing there. again. like a second chance.
and this time q doesn't turn. this time he doesn't run.
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got inspired by a fic i read the other day, but didn't quite hit the right spots for me so. time to write out a new wip idea
The concept of that fic really grabbed me - Jason and Tim having a bodyswap the same day Jason wakes up in his coffin, at a point after Tim had already visited Bruce and Alfred with his insistence that Batman needed a Robin - but for what I was thinking, by the time Jason convinces Bruce and Alfred of who he is, Tim's already started to dig himself out of the coffin. And when the three of them show up at the cemetery, the grave's empty.
Tim would be catatonic and go through much of the same stuff canon Jason went through before being found and dunked in the Pit. He'd end up enduring the whole League of Assassins shtick that canon Jason went through while at the same time Jason is dealing with Tim's regular person life. Both of them struggled a bit trying to imitate the other, but they managed- Tim with not much issue considering no one in the LoA was close to Jason, and Jason trying to manage Janet Drake's clearly growing concern every time he slips up.
Like, imagine Tim, desperately trying to imitate what he knows of Jason from watching Robin on the streets and seeing Jay in a few galas here and there. And one day, Talia tries to tell him he'd been quickly replaced to get him to finally listen and Kill Somebody/accept he was staying with the League until they deemed him fit to leave.
And Tim looks at a picture of himself, hanging around the front yard of Wayne Manor with Bruce, Alfred, and Dick. Another picture showing himself in an ill-fitting Robin uniform on a rooftop and seemingly getting lectured by Batman, who looms in front of him.
And he says "I'm not buyin' it."
Somehow convinces Talia that he's not convinced that the Tim in the photo (who is probably Jason and thank god, Tim was really worried about what happened to Jason's mind- or rather, his own body; he didn't actually consider Jason coming back to life until now) and she arranges a short trip for him to Gotham to see for himself.
Tim really struggles the next two days to keep up the Jason act, but he's pretty sure Talia and the others were just chalking it up to nerves at seeing his family again and the "newest addition".
When he finally gets to Gotham, he doesn't bother being stealthy. He doesn't have the skills- no matter how much Ra's and Talia's goons have been trying to beat it into him- and even if he did, he doubted he'd be able to sneak away from his own teachers that were stalking him from the shadows.
So he does his best to be casual. Walks straight towards Wayne Manor, and when he can actually start to hear his assassin stalkers the tiniest bit as he approaches the gate- a sign they're getting really restless- he decides now or never and bolts the rest of the way.
He thinks, if he had come sooner to Gotham, he would've tried fitting through the gaps in the bars- as if he was still 13 and small enough to fit- but as it is, Tim's spent 6 months in this body and he's not going to make that mistake.
Instead he slams a hand on the buzzer and says as fast as he can, "it's Tim! Tim Drake! There's assassins, open the gate!"
He has a heartstopping moment when nothing happens- when there's no answer and the ninjas are getting closer and closer and-
And then it opens and Tim doesn't stop with his relief, he runs.
The door is opened not by Mr. Pennyworth, but by Bruce himself, a belt clipped around his waist, but entirely in sleepwear. He has something in his other hand and as he yells, "duck!" Tim can only think it's some kind of bomb and dives for the ground.
He was sort of right. It was a smoke bomb. He heard and smelled it hissing away behind him, and saw the cloud of smoke in his peripheral vision.
Bruce wasted no time running past him and barking, "Follow Alfred to the cave!" Tim took a moment to just breathe, feeling much more safe with Batman fighting to protect him. When Bruce looked back at him through a spot in the smoke, he yelled, "Go!"
Tim scrambled to obey, trying to run and stand and awkwardly doing both to get in the home. Mr. Pennyworth was just inside the foyer, out of sight of the windows, now that Tim noticed, and holding a shotgun.
He was also wearing a fluffy blue bathrobe and fuzzy pink bunny slippers.
Tim blinked. "Uhhh,"
"Come along, Master Tim. We must be quick."
He didn't protest and followed him down to the Cave, where Jason in Tim's body sat waiting at the Batcomputer.
Man, I'm not completely sure on the timing, but imagine Tim finally getting back into his body and it's- he's taller than he used to be, bulkier too. And there are reflexes and muscle memory stuff he doesn't remember at all, but now just has.
He- he was Robin. Or, his body at least, and he felt like it. But he never was Robin. Not really. He never got a proper outing, never even received Bruce's official approval for it.
It was strange. And not totally a good strange.
He thought about the body he had. He didn't have a lot of love for it- puberty would do that to anyone- but it was his. And that saying about not knowing what you have until you lose it? Yeah.
Tim felt like crying.
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