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thefatedthoughtofyou · 4 months

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{ soooo.... @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe reblogged ONE werewolf post and mentioned steddie in the tags and then... this... happened. It was all spur of the moment with no planning so if you see mistakes and/or plot holes... no you don't. 😬💖 }

Warnings: Billy Hargrove, blood, wound tending, violence, if it needs anymore let me know. ✌🏻

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"I'm completely serious." Eddie says, feet kicked up on.... someone's coffee table. He doesn't remember who's party it is. Jeff nods agreeably next to him, sinking further into the couch.

"No. You've gotta be fucking joking. That would not-" Gareth tries to argue. Eddie cuts him off immediately.

"No seriously. I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go 'I'll have that.' Then claim me as their mate and never let me go." Eddie sighs, the hellfire boys erupting in chaos around him.

Normally, Eddie would join in, cause a ruckus. But he'd frozen after he'd spoken. His eyes glued to one Steve Harrington. Who had been taking a drink and promptly choked on said drink, his eyes wide when they landed on Eddie, beer or some other liquid dribbling down his chin as his cheeks flushed.

He was all the way in the kitchen, his friend Robin chattering away next to him, now wiping at his face. There's no way he could have heard Eddie. Not over the music, and the house full of shouting drunken teenagers.

Eddie watches as he finally tears his eyes away. He watches Steve grab Robin's wrist and yank her out of sight. If Eddie's lip reading was as good as it used to be, he'd said something along the lines of: "Robin. We need to go. Now."

But that didn't make any sense. Eddie was just joking. And Steve was all the way in the other room. Eddie sunk down into the couch, ignoring the way his stomach turned when he heard the front door open and close. There was no fucking way he heard him.

No fucking way.

Unless.

~°~

"Steve Harrington. Is not a werewolf. What the fuck are you even saying?" Gareth was nearly yelling now. They'd been having this conversation for almost an hour and it seemed he was at his wits end.

"Yes he is Gare! Yes he is! I would swear on it." Eddie shouts back, pointing at his friend from his position on the floor, his feet up on the couch next to Jeff. His toes wiggling under his arm every now and again to get warm.

"Swear on what!?" Gareth shrieked, his hands flailing into the air next to his head.

"Werewolves aren't real!" His voice is so squeaky now the neighbors dog has started barking.

"Jeff. Eric. You guys really not gonna help me with this?" He begs, holding his hands out to them, pleading.

"I mean..." Eric drawls, scratching at his ear.

"What?" Gareth asks, eyes narrowed.

"Maybe they are.... There was that thing with Chrissy." Eric says, his voice lilting as he looks in Jeff's direction.

"No. No no no no. We are not talking about that again either. Jeff did not see Chrissy Cunningham drinking blood." Gareth huffs, so frustrated now his face is turning red.

"I know what I saw." Jeff says with a shrug, his hand moving to Eddie's calf and rubbing it rapidly, trying to warm his cold leg for him. Eddie smiled at him and then looked back up at Gareth from the floor.

"He knows what he saw Gare. Chrissy is a fucking vampire. And Steve. Steve Harrington is a fucking werewolf. Possibly. The love of my life. Though that may be a tad unlikely. Given that he almost definitely doesn't like boys." Eddie pouts, and then startles when Gareth stomps over to look straight down at him.

"Oh is it? Is it unlikely because he doesn't like boys? Not because there's no such thing as FUCKING WEREWOLVES!?" Gareth full on yells it. His hands fisting in his hair.

"Gareth Eugene!" His mothers voice calls down the stairs.

"Sorry mom!" He yells back, turns on Jeff and Eddie when the laugh.

"It's not fucking funny. This is ridiculous. You're all ridiculous. It's not real. Fuck you guys." He hisses, keeping his voice low. Jeff and Eddie look at each other, then to Eric, all of them smile and shout,

"Gareth Eugene!" In unison. Gareth screams at them, tosses a few empty chip bags at them and throws himself into the emtpy chair next to Eric.

"You all sound, insane. You know that right?" He asks, sounding calm, and genuine again. Eddie shrugs, Eric laughs.

"Maybe you just need to open your mind?" Jeff suggests, brushing chip crumbs from his shirt.

"Open my mind? To vampires and werewolves?" He asks, arms crossed over his chest with a huff.

"Yes. Because if they exist. And mine and Jeff's crushes are one of each. Ugh. Shit." Eddie curses, his shoulder bumping the small table as he rights himself, slides his legs off the couch and kneels by the table instead.

"We could literally live our dreams." Eddie pleads, his fingers laced in front of him.

"Your dream. I don't have a dream about dating a vampire. Just dating Chrissy." He sighs, his eyes going glassy. Eddie waves him off, not even looking at him.

"I could literally live my dream. My dream of having a smoking hot werewolf boyfriend who wants to mark me and breed me and keep me forever." Eddie whines, Eric and Gareth both groaning at Eddie's details. Jeff gives no reaction, lost in his thoughts about Chrissy.

"You're crazy man. There are not secret supernatural creatures all over Hawkins. Is the whole basketball team werewolves? Is this fucking Teen Wolf? You think Steve is just gonna wolf out at the next game?" Gareth asks, his voice rising again. Eddie plops down onto his butt, elbows resting on the little table, chin in his hands.

"God that'd be great wouldn't it?" He sighs, eyes focusing over Eric's head like he can see it.

"Hey!" Gareth snaps his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

"Rude." Eddie swats at his hand.

"And who's next? Huh? Tommy and Carol? That dick Hargrove?" Gareth shoves a chip into his mouth chewing angrily. Eddie grimaces.

"Hargrove is not supernatural." Eddie shakes his head.

"He's a supernatural dick. Like... his asshole levels are way off the charts." Jeff chimes in, sinking to the floor next to Eddie and taking a swig of Eddie's mountain dew, Eddie nods in agreement.

"Yeah. He's definitely a peice of shit. But not in a supernatural way. Probably good. Honestly. Can you imagine?" Eddie's nose scrunches before he takes a drink as well. Even Gareth groans in agreement.

It's quiet for a moment. None of them talking. The occasional chip crunching or bag rustling, the pop of a soda can being opened. All of them just sitting, thinking, loudly, but in silence. And then Gareth breaks it, and his steadfast denial of it all.

"Okay. But seriously, if they're were vampires and werewolves in Hawkins we'd know about it! That's not something that could be kept secret." His voice is low now, his eyes moving over the boys around him.

"Is it?" He asks, looking slightly worried.

"I dunno. This town does have a long history of unexplained animal attacks." Eric chimes in, the three other heads in the room turn to look at him, slowly.

"What? I like history." He defends. They all go quiet again, for longer.

Eddie moving a few things here and there on the table. Jeff moving them right back just to frustrate him. Both of them slapping at each other. It devolves into a small wrestling match that Eddie wins by going completely limp on top of Jeff.

"Okay." Gareth breaks the silence again. Eddie and Jeff shuffle around, separating themselves from each other, ending up in the opposite spots as before, they notice, frown at each other, and then shrug, looking to Gareth again.

"Okay?" They ask, at the same time.

"Okay." Gareth nods, but holds his finger up at them. Their brows raised on their foreheads as they wait.

"But Steve Harrington. Is not cool enough. To be a fucking werewolf."

~°~

One week, three days, and ten hours later. The morning after the full moon. Eddie nearly hits Steve Harrington with his van.

Rain is pouring from the sky, his wipers on high, barely helping. He's heading for school, Wayne had sent him off on time after a nice plate of scrambled eggs and toast.

He didn't have any tests or quizzes today. And he'd actually remembered to do his homework. The morning was going well.

That's when the body appeared in the road just past his vision. He slammed on the breaks and had never been so happy that he'd been ripped off and over paid for new breakpads last month. The van skids to a halt, his headlights shining on the person, the naked person, in the road.

"What the fuck?" Eddie breathed. He slammed the van into park, grabbed the keys out, and jumped out into the pouring rain. He stopped, grabbed a blanket out of the back, that normally covered Gareth's drums when they traveled, and ran around the front of the van.

"Holy shit." Eddie felt like he'd been punched.

"Hi Eddie." Steve Harrington, naked, wet, waving up at him with a wiggly fingered wave, and holy shit was that blood.

"Is that blood?" Eddie blurts, his hands already shaking.

"Yeah." Steve says, like it's fine, like it's normal.

"Shit did I hit you?" Eddie falls to his knees, holds the blanet out to Steve. He eyes it, looks back to Eddie.

"You're naked." He says. Steve closes his eyes, sighs.

"Right. Thanks." He grabs the blanket, drags it around his waist as he tries to stand. The second he puts pressure on his leg he starts to fall again. Eddie ducks under his arm and catches him. Doing his best to ignore the way Steve's warm, wet, skin feels under his hands.

"Hospital?" He asks, helping Steve to the passenger door. Steve levels him with a look that tells him he should know better.

"Right. Okay. Sorry. Jeez. You just- You're bleeding kind of a lot dude." Eddie huffs, helps Steve into the van and grabs a towel from the glovebox.

His brows furrowed, he presses it to the very large fucking hole, in Steve's leg. He doesn't even flinch, his eyes locked on Eddie, and his slow, gentle movements. Steve's hand settling over his makes his whole body jerk.

"Thanks. I can do that." Steve says, softly. Eddie doesn't let go.

"You gotta put pressure on it." He says, eyes locked on the red seeping into the towel.

"I will." Steve nods, squeezes Eddie's wrist, trying to get his attention.

"Eddie?" He squeezes again, Eddies eyes move up his arm to his face.

"Yeah?" His eyes are wide.

"We gotta get outta here." Steve's own eyes widen, waiting for Eddie to understand. It doesn't take long. He whips his head around, trying to see into the trees around them, his hair completely soaked now, his bangs drooping into his eyes.

"Shit. Okay." He nods, turns back to Steve, hands over the towel to him and nods again.

"Okay. I got it." He says, not sure if he's talking to himself or Steve. Steve nods, fucking smiles, at him, and lets him shut the door.

Eddie runs around the van, jumps back in, starts her up, gets her turned around carefully, and drives.

"Did someone shoot you man?" Eddie asks after a moment, Steve groans as he presses the towel to his leg, hard, his knuckles going white.

"Yep. Sure did." Steve sounds... nonplussed. Like it's just, a normal fucking Tuesday. Which it isn't. It's very much not a normal Tuesday. Because Steve Harrington got shot. And now he's in Eddie's van bleeding. And besides all that it's fucking Friday.

Eddie's hands tense on the wheel, his own knckles white now as well. He's nodding. Just absently. His head knows Steve answered him, can't seem to from words to make his own answer just yet.

"You okay Eddie?" Steve asks, tugging the blanket around his waist more with his free hand. Eddie just keeps nodding.

"Where are you taking me?" Steve asks, seems to realize he wasn't going to get an answer to the previous question.

"Home." Is all Eddie says. He glances to his right, Steve's eyes are on him.

"Wayne'll know what to do. He'll help." Eddie nods, his eyes back on the road.

"He'll help." He says again, to no one in particular. Steve nods, bites his lip when pain shoots through his leg, doesn't quite manage to stiffle the groan of pain.

"Who fucking shot you Steve?" It's the first time he's used Steve's name, maybe ever, to his face at least. Steve snorts, it sounds like a laugh.

"Fucking Hargrove." He grunts, presses harder on his leg. Eddie's head whips to look at him, his wet hair slapping against his face.

"What? Shit. Really?" He asks, rapid fire. Steve closes his eyes and nods.

"Eyes on the road Ed's." Steve's lips turn up in a smile right before Eddie looks away, his eyes are still closed.

"Covered his scent somehow. I didn't smell him. Or hear him. Fucking asshole." Steve slams his fist against the dash, Eddie jumps, his whole body twitching, he refused to acknowledge the yelp that came out of his mouth.

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Steve breathes deeply through his nose, like he's trying to stay calm.

"It's okay. I'd be pissed too if Billy Hargrove fucking shot me." Eddie says, quickly, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he can think them. Steve snorts again, and Eddie's sure he is laughing, as well as he can, through the pain.

"Wait, he drives that blue camero right?" Eddie asks, eyes locked on his rear view mirror.

"Yeah. Why?" Steve follows his gaze, then looks into the side mirror.

"Shit." He says, trying to sit up further, or turn around, or something.

"Put the seat back and lay down." Eddie says, his hand pointing across Steve's lap to the little lever on the side.

Steve does as he's told, the seat going nearly flat. Eddie reaches behind his seat and grabs his backpack, sets it genlty in Steve's lap. Anyone passing would just be able to see the top of it.

He pushes his tape back into the tapedeck and cranks the volume. His fingers drumming and his head bobbing to the music as Billy's car rumbles up behind them, fast. Eddie's lucky he even saw it at all in the rain.

He keeps his eyes forward, fingers drumming. Pretends not to notice Hargove's car pull along side him for a moment. He twitches his head to the side, does a double take and then scowls at him, motioning to the open road ahead of them. Clearly telling Hargrove to fucking pass him already.

He does. Flipping Eddie the bird as he goes. He does a u-turn in the middle of the road and speeds back past them, the water from his tires splashing across Eddie's windshield.

He flips the wipers back up and keeps his eyes on Billy's car until it disappears back into the rain. He grabs his bag off Steve's lap and sets it by his feet instead as Steve sits up with a groan. Pulling the lever again so the seat comes with him.

"That was pretty good." Steve sighs, leaning against the window. Eddie turns his music down.

"Don't sound so suprised. I sell drugs man. I have to act natural a lot. Plus, he almost ran me off the road last month, I was pretty sure he'd try and pass me anyway." Eddie shrugs, keeps both hands on the wheel and one eye on the road behind them.

"Why'd he shoot you?" Eddie asks, glancing at Steve and then back to the road. He'd swear Steve was smiling.

"Why do you think?" He asks, sounds tired. Eddie rolls to a stop at a four way, looks over at Steve, down to the towel on his leg soaked with blood. He pulls away slow, they're so close to home now, no need to draw attention.

"He doesn't know it's me, I don't think. Just that he shot a wolf. He's been trying since he got here. Hunting us." Steve sighs, readjustes himself in his seat again.

Eddie swallows, hard, his heart pounding. His knuckles flashing white again as he squeezes the steering wheel. He turns into Forest Hills, his foot that's not on the peddle is shaking now, his knee jumping and jerking.

He pulls up to the trailer slowly, cuts the lights and the engine, and turns slowly in his seat to face Steve.

"You're a werewolf." He exhales into the space between them.

"I'm a werewolf." Steve nods, gives him a pained, toothy, smile. Eddie nods back, keeps nodding, he's lost in it again. The nodding.

Steve's hand patting his cheek snaps him out of it. He jerks again, not used to being touched there, or anywhere, really. He sees Steve pull his hand back, swears he sees hurt in his eyes.

"Sorry. I know it's a lot. But I need to get this bullet out of my leg like, yesterday." Steve sighs, covers the hurt look with another pained smile.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Hang tight." He pats Steve's knee genlty, hops out of the van, and yells for Wayne.

~°~

They get Steve inside no questions asked. Wayne carries him to the bathroom and sets him on the edge of the tub. Eddie grabs a pair of boxers from his drawer and brings them to Steve.

"Figured you don't wanna be naked while you do that." He shrugs. Steve shrugs back.

"I've done worse things naked." He says, a little smile on his lips. Eddie goes warm all over and nods, bumps into the door frame as he back out of the small room.

He watches Wayne roll his eyes at him. He shakes his head too, crossing his arms over his chest. Eddie mouths 'shut up'at him and goes to kitchen. Wayne walks up beside him while he tries to get Steve's blood out from under his nails.

"Hey." Wayne sets his hand on Eddie's shoulder, he twitches.

"You did good kid. Bringin him here." Wayne's voice is calm. Always calm with Eddie.

He's never heard the man yell, except maybe at the raccoons that live to dig through their trash and toss it all over the yard. Eddie swears he'd heard Wayne call them varmints once. But other than that, he's soft spoken, so different from Eddie's father. Eddie's grateful. Everyday.

"Yeah. He was just out in the road. I almost hit him." Eddie's lip wobbles and Wayne pulls him to his chest, his hand rubbing up and down Eddie's back.

"But you didn't. You stopped. And you saved him, sounds like, so..." he pulls back, cradles Eddie's face.

"Seems to me that's all that matters." He lifts his eyebrows, giving Eddie that look. Eddie nods, a little frantic, licks his lips, looks in the direction of the bathroom.

"Yeah. That's what matters." He nods again, wipes his hands on his shirt. Opens his mouth to thank his uncle when Steve calls his name.

"Go on. Go see to your boy." Wayne tilts his head in Steve's direction.

"Oh my god. He's not my- he can hear you." Eddie hiss/whispers at Wayne. He pulls his lips into his mouth, shrugs, looking like he could not be less sorry. Eddie hisses at him as he walks away, glaring. Wayne laughs behind him and starts a pot of coffee.

"You called?" Eddie teases when he gets to the bathroom, leans agaisnt the doorframe.

"You came." Steve teases back, his eyes locked on Eddie. Eddie flushes again, from head to fucking foot. He clears his throat, rubs at the back of his neck.

"Did you need something?" Eddie asks, his eyes on the floor now. He swears he hears Steve chuckle, but can't risk looking up to find a smiling, teasing Steve, he wouldn't survive it right now.

"Yeah. Two things actually. And you're not gonna like the second one." Eddie's eyes snap to Steve's face, he looks apologetic.

"What is it?" Eddie asks, shoving his hands into her pockets nervously.

"Well the first thing, I need you to call Jim Hopper. Tell him what happened. And that I'm here. And I'm safe. I am safe with you, right Eddie?" Steve looks up at him with wide eyes. Eddie nods, licks his lips, tries to do better.

"Yeah. Course. That thing, earlier? When you touched me. And I flinched." He jerks his head back, motioning behind him, into the past hour.

"That wasn't because of you and your- it wasn't cuz of that. I'm not afraid of you. I'm just not used to people touching me." Eddie babbles, knows that's probably not what Steve meant, probably not why he was asking if he was safe.

But that hurt look kept bouncing around Eddie's head and he had to say it, to tell him it wasn't because of Steve, any part of him. And it pays off, his babbling, for once, because Steve smiles, and his cheeks tint pink, and Eddie could look at that all day.

"Thanks." Steve mumbles, Eddie nods.

"Call Hopper. Got it. And the second thing?" He rocks up onto the balls of his feet and then back down, Steve looks up at him and grimaces.

"I need you to help hold this while I dig the bullet out." Steve taps the little homemade tourniquet he and Wayne had put together, resting right above the bullet wound. Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly very dry.

"O-okay." He stammers.

"Do you want Wayne to do it?" Steve asks, eyeing Eddie like he thinks he's gonna pass out. Eddie shakes his head, once to answer the question, and then again to clear it.

"Lemme go have Wayne call Hopper. And I'll be back. Should I bring more towels?" He asks, hand firmly planted on the doorframe as he leans into the bathroom, his eyes on the bloody towel in the sink.

"Maybe one more. And two glasses of water." Steve says, nods when Eddie does.

"What's the water for?" He asks, brow furrowed.

"To drink. Thought maybe you could use a glass too. I can hear your throat clicking from here." Steve teases, smiling again when Eddie nods frantically and ducks out of the bathroom.

"You can probably hear my throat clicking from across town." He mutters to himself, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.

"Not quite that far. Maybe a few blocks, if I really focus." Steve calls from the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ." Eddie mutters, hears Steve laugh. He shakes his head, fills the glasses, gives Wayne his instructions for Hopper, shoves a towel under his arm, and waddles carefully back to the bathroom, hands full.

"There ya go." Eddie hands him a glass, tries not to stare at his throat when Steve chugs it, startles when Steve looks at him and chugs half his own glass.

"Where should I..." he trails off, looking around the bathroom.

"On your knees." Steve points to the space next to him, Eddie obeys immediately, his knees hitting the floor hard. His bites his lip, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, using all his willpower to not look at Steve right now, in this moment.

"That was-"

"Don't. Just- please don't. I'm mortified, can we just..." Eddie waves his hand towards Steve's wounded thigh.

"Mhm. We can." He says, and Eddie swears he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Nothing wrong with obeying orders well." Steve says, his voice hushed as Eddie scoots closer. He freezes, his eyes finally looking up, Steve is staring at him. Eddie gulps, Steve's eyes drop to his throat and jump back up.

"Put your hands here." Steve guides him, shows him where to hold the tourniquet, how to pull but not too tight. His fingers move over the back of Eddie's hands, leaving the faintest tracks of blood on his skin as Steve whispers,

"Good boy." Against Eddie's ear.

"Jesus H Christ." Eddie shutters, his shoulders tensing.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist." And Steve fucking winks at him. Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, Steve laughs, shakes his head, and then rolls his shoulders.

"You don't have to watch." Steve says, serious now. Eddie nods, but finds he can't look away.

Steve's hand rests on his thigh, as Eddie watches his nails grow dark, and long, and sharp. Thick claws now where his nails used to be. Eddie watches as Steve moves, presses his finger into the hole in his leg and digs. He shoves his thumb in along side it, blood blooms bewteen his fingers and Eddie tightens his hold.

The whimper Steve lets out is what draws Eddie's eyes away. Away from the claws and the blood. They land on Steve's face, his features pinched in pain. He grits his teeth and Eddie sees fangs, too sharp teeth filling Steve's mouth as he groans.

"Steve?" Eddie's voice is airy, his throat tight.

"I'm alright. Almost got it." Steve grunts through his teeth, his jaw clentched.

"Okay. Be careful." Eddie whispers. Steve snorts again, pulls his thumb and finger back out of the wound with a whine, something shiny held between them.

He sags, his body drooping with relief. He holds the bullet out, Eddie moves, slowly lets go of the tourniquet, and holds out his hand.

"Don't lose that." Steve cautions, pausing before he drops it into Eddie's palm. Eddie nods, drops it into the cup near his toothbrush and moves back to Steve's side.

"What now?" He asks, hands hovering, not sure where to land. Steve looks at him, hooks his fingers under the tourniquet and winks at Eddie again.

"Now. I heal." He slips the rags off his leg. Eddie watches as one small pulse of blood bubbles up out of the wound, and then he watches as the edges close, the skin knitting itself back together. Steve wipes a towel over his leg, clearing the blood, and the wound is gone.

"Holy shit." Eddie says, breathless. His eyes jump to Steve face and he smiles.

"You're amazing." He breathes, and then smiles wider when his cheeks tint pink again.

"Ya think so? Most people wouldn't agree." Steve says, but he's smiling too.

"Well most people are idiots. And objectively you're probably weird as shit. But I love weird shit." Eddie shrugs, rubs at his neck when Steve just stares at him, feels himself going red again and stands. Offers his hand to Steve, helps him to his feet. He stumbles forward, Eddie catches him with his hands on his waist, feels his cheeks go impossibly hotter.

"You're hearts always beating so fast. Is that cuz of me?" Steve whispers, his hand settling on Eddie's chest, right over his fluttering heart. Eddie swallows, manages a nod before his resolve leaves him and he steps away from Steve hastily.

"You can shower if you want. I'm gonna- I'll go find you some clean clothes." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, bounces off the doorframe and bolts down the small hallway to his room.

He falls onto the edge of his bed, his legs wobbly, his chest aching, and his lungs somehow not pulling in enough air. He smiles when he hears the shower start, tries not to picture Steve in there showering. And shit, he forgot.

"The warm waters a little tricky. You gotta turn it all the way up and then lower it back down." He says, not too loud, wanting to know if Steve will hear him. He hears the tell squeak of the warm water handle and then Steve calls,

"Thanks!" Through the thin walls. Eddie bites his lip and falls back onto his bed, his head buzzing. He can't wait to tell Jeff. Oh, he sits up, thinking, he should ask about Chrissy. See if Jeff was right. All signs seem to be pointing that way.

He opens his mouth to ask when there's a knock at the door.An aggressive knock. More like someone pounding and trying to get in.

Eddie's up in a flash, but when he gets to the living room Wayne is near the door, his hand held out to Eddie, stopping him.

"It's not Hopper." Wayne mouths, and that's when Eddie sees the gun in his hand. Wayne's old shotgun. He'd only seen it once. When he turned 17, Wayne showed him where it was, and how to load and use it, in case of emergencies only.

Eddie's body tenses, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He can hear the shower running behind him. Hopes Steve is listening too.

"Open the door Munson! I know you've got him in there!" Hargove's taunting voice calls. A shiver runs down Eddie's spine, he shakes his head instinctively. He sees Wayne do the same. His uncle waves him down again, his palm held out towards Eddie, he lowers it slowly: stay calm. Eddie nods.

Wayne opens the door, keeps his shotgun hidden off to the side.

"Ain't nobody here but us. I think you should leave. We don't want any trouble." Wayne tells him calmly, his voice steady as he clicks the saftey off the gun in his hand. Eddie's breathing is shallow. He hears a snort from outside.

"Yeah right. You're Munson's. All you know is trouble. And you stepped in it big this time." Hargrove snarls.

"Now hand over that fuckin monster you got in there. And maybe I won't teach that little freak of yours a lesson for takin what's mine."

Eddie watches Wayne's knuckles go white where they're holding the door, watches the door shake as he grips it tight.

"Police are already on their way boy. You best be on yours before you get hurt." Wayne's voice is still calm. Too calm. Eddie's never heard him sound that way before. He can feel the anger just beneath the surface, his anger boils there too.

Wayne starts to say something else when Hargrove jumps forward, slams his body against the door, almost through it. Wayne stumbles backward, caught off guard just enough for Hargrove to get the drop on him. He grabs Wayne's arm, tugs him forward and headbutts him.

Eddie's stomach twists at the sound, as he watches Wayne fall to the floor. He knows he can't get to the gun. But Hargrove could. Doesn't seem to care about it though. His eyes land on Eddie, cold and empty, his jaw clenched. Eddie turns, makes for his bedroom. He feels Hargrove's hand slam down on his shoulder and screams.

"Steve help m-" Billy's knuckles slam into his cheek, he feels his lip split when his face hits the ground. Feels Hargrove move over him, and then away. His shadow there and then gone, quick as a flash. Eddie looks up, hears a low growl, and sees Hargrove against the wall, his feet almost a foot above the ground, Steve's clawed hand around his throat, holding him there.

His mouth is full of fangs again, his skin covered in fur now, not completely, just a thin layer, and his eyes seem to glow in the low light of the trailer. Eddie scrambles to his knees, hears another growl.

"Touch him again and I willl rip you apart." The words rumble deep in Steve's chest. Hargrove chokes and gags as Steve squeezes him tighter.

"Sounds like a great plan kid. But how bout you let me handle the rest huh?" A new voice. Eddie startles, tries too fast to turn and ends up on his back. Footsteps approach him and he's look up at Sheriff Hopper.

"You alright kid?" He asks, Eddie nods, his chest clenches.

"My uncle-"

"Already back on his feet kid. C'mon." Hopper extends his hand. Eddie takes it, lets the big man yank him to feet easily. Eddie suspects he may be a wolf himself. Or something else.

"Steve. Let him go." Hopper says, slow, like he's talking Steve down. He still has Hargrove against the wall, he's only wearing the boxers Eddie gave him. His skin is all skin again, but his claws are still out, his fangs pushing at his lips, his chest is heaving.

Eddie watches Hopper move toward him, Steve growls, low in his throat, Hargrove struggles as his fingers tighten, Hopper stops.

"Hey. Kid. I know. Alright. I get. He hurt your friend."

Another low growl, deeper, more feral, Steve's brow furrows.

"Oh. Shit. Okay." Hopper sighs, glances at Eddie.

"You're okay right?" He asks, leaning into Eddie's space a bit, Eddie thinks he sniffs him.

"Yeah. I'm okay. I'm good." Eddie nods, his eyes going back to Steve when Hopper's do.

"Your boys okay. Just a split lip. Nothin serious. He's okay." Hopper reassures, takes a few small steps forward. Steve twitches with each one. His grip on Hargrove's throat still tight.

"Steve I'm okay. You can let go now." Eddie tries. He watches the muscles in Steve's arm relax, but only a little. Eddie shakes his head, makes a decision. He steps forward, dodges Hopper when he reaches for him.

"Kid don't-"

"It's fine." Eddie dismisses. He walks up to Steve, gets close, Eddie moves his hand over his arm slowly, letting Steve feeling him.

"I'm right here. I'm okay." He soothes, fingers pressing into Steve's hot skin. But it works, his body relaxes, he loosens his hold on Hargrove, lets him slide down the wall til his feet touch the floor, but doesn't let go.

"Fuckin'... freak." Hargrove gasps, glaring at Eddie, eyes full of hate.

"Shut up." Eddie and Steve speak in unison, but Steve yanks him forward, then slams him back. His head hits the wall and Steve lets him go. He falls to floor, unconscious.

Steve turns to Eddie then, teeth too big for his mouth. His lips pushed out in a pout around his fangs, and he whines, his hand lifting to touch Eddie's lip, his claws receding back into his nails before his fingers touch Eddie.

He licks the blood from Eddie's lip off his fingers and then grabs for him, pulling him against his chest with a whine, clinging to him as he nuzzles into Eddie's neck. Eddie gulps, wraps his arms around Steve slowly, awkwardly, does his best to hold on. To soothe him.

Once Steve's calmed a bit he pulls back. Eddie looks down, Billy's body is gone. He turns to look behind him, Wayne and Hopper are sitting on the couch, watching some old movie. Eddie's brow furrows. How fucking long had Steve been holding onto him?

"Sorry. I didn't mean to, like, trap you." Steve clears his throat. Eddie turns back to him, he looks embarrassed. Eddie smiles, cups his cheek.

"It isn't a trap if it's somewhere I wanna be. Is it?" Steve looks uncertain for a moment, his eyes darting around Eddie's face, looking for something, Eddie's sure. He either finds, or doesn't, because he smiles so brightly it nearly blinds Eddie.

"Really?" He asks, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Yeah. Kinda had a crush on you since like, fuckin forever. Seventh grade or something stupid." Eddie shrugs.

"Fifth grade." Wayne calls from the couch, Eddie rounds on him, he hadn't even looked away from the tv.

"Oh my god what does it matter! Bud out would you? I'm having a moment!" Eddie hisses, watches Wayne smile into his cup of coffee. He opens his mouth to snark some more but Steve's hand turning his face back to him stops him.

"Fifth grade?" Steve asks. Eddie rolls his eyes, sighs, nods.

"Yeah."

"Wha- Why?"

"You gave me a rock." Eddie huffs, bites into his lip.

"I gave you..." Steve gasps, his hands moving to Eddie's waist and tugging.

"I gave you a rock!" He says, excited. Eddie nods.

"I know. I was there." He rolls his eyes, teasing. Steve looks at him, for a long moment.

"Did you keep it?" He sounds so hopeful. Behind them, Wayne snorts and then clears his throat. Eddie groans, loud, and long. Wayne and Hopper both chuckle.

"Of course I kept it. I'm a big gay loser and a pretty boy gave me a rock. It's on my nightstand." Eddie admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat.

But then Steve is nuzzling against his cheek and he decides he doesn't care if he's a loser. That pretty boy was a werewolf, and apparently this werewolf thinks of Eddie as his. And he could definitely get used to that.

"You kept it." Steve hums, presses his nose into Eddie's throat and nearly fucking purrs with delight, his chest rumbling against Eddie's, making his heart flutter.

"Alright kid. We gotta get this sorted. Get that bullet. We'll get this delt with. And you can come back here and... well you can come back here. The rest is none of my business." Hopper declares, clapping his hands once, as he stands and moves to the door.

Steve pulls back, nods, and ducks back into the bathroom. Eddie brings him some clothes and then he's gone. Riding away in Hoppers cruiser, an unconscious Billy Hargrove in the backseat, bound and gagged, for good measure.

Wayne moves to stand beside him as he watches them drive away. His arm wraps around Eddie's shoulders and tugs him close.

"Rough day kid." Wayne says, giving him a squeeze.

"Yeah. Not all bad though." Eddie considers, drops his head on Wayne's shoulder.

"Definitely not. C'mon," Wayne gives his shoulder a pat.

"Let's get this house cleaned up before your boy gets back."

Eddie nods, follows him back inside, and starts cleaning. There's woodchips all over the hallway, Steve had shattered the door coming out to help Eddie and Wayne. Eddie suppresses a shiver at the thought.

But has trouble not thinking about the way Steve had been so mad because Billy had hurt him, hurt Eddie. Not his friend. He'd been mad about that word too. Not his friend. Just his.

Eddie swept the floor and tidied his room and let the feeling of being Steve's surround him. Let it fill his head and his chest. Let it lift him up off the floor, his body floating when he finally fell into bed to wait for Steve. His Steve.

~°~

Eddie wakes to gentle hands on his shoulder. He lets go of his pillow and rolls to find Steve, on his knees on the matress behind him. He scrambles to sitting, hands reaching for Steve, met with Steve's own out stretched hands.

"You came back." Eddie mumbles, still drowsy. Steve smiles, soft.

"Course I did. Nowhere else I'd rather be." He whispers, presses forward, his face so so close.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, Eddie feels his breath rush over his skin.

"You want too?" Eddie asks, because his brain still hasn't quite caught up, isn't sure this isn't just a dream.

"Eddie." Steve says name the way no one ever has, all longing and need, curled at the edges from exasperation.

"Yeah Steve?" Eddie's trembling now, his hands shaking in his lap. Steve takes them in his, like he can read Eddie's mind.

"I've wanted to kiss you for awhile now. Even before I heard what you said at that party." Steve whispers the last bit, his mouth curving into a smirk, his eyes twinkling. Eddie's own eyes widen and then squeeze shut as he groans, takes his hands from Steve's and hides his face.

"You did hear me. I knew it oh my goooodddd." He rolls onto his back, rolling side to side on the bed, bumping Steve with his thighs everytime he rolls toward him. The laugh Eddie's dramtics pull out of Steve is beautiful, it makes Eddie feel like flying.

He drops his hands to his stomach and looks up at Steve. Steve looks right back, his eyes soft, his mouth curved just so in a small smile.

"I wanna kiss you so bad Steve." Eddie admits, his fingers drumming on his stomach. Steve's nose scrunches.

"Yeah? You sure?" Eddie tilts his head, trying to read the sudden change in Steve. His confidence seeming to fail him.

"Did you think I would genuinely say no to you?" Eddie asks, pushing himself up to sitting, so he can see Steve better. Steve picks at a loose thread on Eddie sheet, lifts one shoulder, drops it again.

"Who the fuck could say no to you?" Eddie wonders aloud, just a breathed out question.

"Not everyone can love a monster." The words fall past Steve's lips with sadness, his voice thick with it. Eddie's heart aches for him.

"Hey. You're not a monster." Eddie shakes his head, Steve levels him with such a bitchy look, it nearly takes Eddie's breath away. He snorts and holds up his hands in surrender.

"Okay. Okay tech-... technically you- you are a monster." Eddie rests his hands on Steve's knees.

"Like in the, literal, old movie wolfman monster, definition. Then yes. Sure. You're a monster." Eddie shrugs, shakes Steve's knees until he's wobbling back and forth with Eddie.

"But that doesn't mean you're a monster." Eddie shakes his head.

"And hey, even if you are. You've come to the right place. Eddie Munson, monster fucker extraordinaire!" He does a little jazz hands display before pointing at himself. He can see Steve fighting a smile.

"I mean not that I've... fucked a monster... before..." he trails off, eyes on the ceiling, thinking. He snaps his fingers, points at Steve.

"But I am willing! And hopefully," he wiggles his fingers in Steve's direction,

"Able." He smiles awkwardly, his eyes dropping to Steve's crotch and then back up, his cheeks flushing when Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

"Willing and able. That's me." Eddie points both his thumbs at himself, Steve's lip twitches. Eddie clasps his hands in front of him.

"Please say something so I can stop talking." Eddie begs through a helpless breathy laugh. Steve drags his teeth over his lower lip and shakes his head slowly, moves closer, presses into Eddie's space.

"No... you're not gonna say anything? Or no... umm... wh- what did I say after that?" Eddie stammers as Steve keeps moving, one hand on Eddie's chest, pressing him back into the matress, the other ending up near Eddie's head, supporting Steve as he hovers over Eddie.

"I like when you talk." Steve says, tossing his leg over Eddie, sitting on his thighs. Eddie nods, feeling a little frantic.

"Oh well thats good. Cuz I'm notorious for not knowing when to shut the fuck up. Now being one of those times I fear. Pretty sure. My mouth literally will not stop moving." The nervous laugh that comes out of him just makes Steve smile more, but it's different, sharp at the edges. Eddie realizes what the look is and gulps, Steve leans over him, chest to chest now, nose to nose. He looks hungry.

"I'm almost certain I can find something that will shut you up." Steve fucking purrs, his finger dragging down over Eddie's lips, his hand moving to cup Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flick down between them and then back up.

"I mean we gotta try right? There's gotta be somethin- mmphf! Mmmm." Steve kisses him, presses his lips to Eddie's like he's trying to swallow his words. Eddie hums into it, hands moving to Steve's neck, his shoulders, his back. His hands move everywhere, feather light touches, not sure where to land. Steve pulls back, rests his forehead against Eddie's.

"I really like you." He sighs, his eyes squeezed tight, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he takes. Eddie watches him, eyes closed, trying to stay calm.

"I really like you too. That's why I kept the rock. And the bird you drew me in seventh grade." Steve's eyes open, he looks down at Eddie, brow furrowing.

"And the poem you wrote freshman year, about wanting to be a wolf." Eddie leans up, presses his lips to Steve's forhead.

"Kinda cheated on that one didn't ya?" Eddie whispers, wraps his arms around Steve as he settles in his lap. Steve gasps when Eddie kisses down his neck.

"I kept the sweatshirt you gave me at the football game too.Sophomore year. It's tucked away in my closet." He kisses back up, eyes closing on a hum as Steve pushes his hands up under Eddie's shirt, needing to touch him.

"I used to take it out and just hold it. And smell it. But it stopped smelling like you. Years ago." Eddie breathes against his lips, Steve whimpers into his mouth.

"I like you so much." Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Steve's lips.

"You being a werewolf isn't gonna change that." He kisses Steve's cheeks, his left one twice, once for each freckle.

"If anything, it will make my feelings, monumentally stronger. Like it'll be disconcerting. It's gonna make people uncomfortable." He kisses Steve's eyelids as he laughs, squirms in Steve's arms when his hands work their way into the back of his pajama pants.

"I'm gonna be obsessed with you." Eddie whispers, kissing down Steve's nose and across his lips again. Steve whines again, chases his lips, Eddie puts two fingers across them, to shush him, groans when Steve pulls them into his mouth and sucks, his cheeks hollowing as he blinks at Eddie, eyes hooded and needy.

"Jesus okay. There's is- there is a 'but' coming." Eddie gasps, Steve smirks around his fingers but lets them go.

"What's the but?" Steve asks, pouting as he moves his hands up Eddie’s back again. Eddie snorts and kisses his cheek again.

"I just-" he stops, takes a deep breath. His stomach twisting. He feels Steve's hand on his chest and opens his eyes, Steve tilts his head like a puppy.

"Your hearts beating fast again." He says, quiet, like he's talking to himself.

"I'm nervous." Eddie says, straight to the point. Steve tilts his head the other way.

"Nervous to be with me?" Steve's thumb soothes over Eddie's chest, through his shirt.

"Nervous cuz- I've never done this." Eddie bites his lip.

"I kinda figured you were a virgin ya know." Steve shrugs, noses at Eddie's neck. Eddie puts his hands on Steve's chest and pushes him back genlty.

"Umm... excuse me?" Eddie scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips.

"What? Virgins smell different." Steve says, like it's a normal thing to say.

"Ew. What? Why?" Eddie asks, his fingers tangling in Steve shirt as he laughs, his arms winding around him and pulling him closer.

"Dunno. Never asked. It's just true. You smell so good anyway but that part," Steve shivers, looks down at him.

"It's just sweet. You smell sweet." Steve smiles down at him, kisses his cheek, runs his fingers over the spot after.

"Okay well, that's all... a lot of information. But what I meeeeant," Eddie drawls, poking Steve in the chest.

"Is that I've never been in a relationship before. Like, not a real one. Not like this. And I'm just scared I guess. Cuz you're like, a fucking dream." Eddie sighs, Steve smiles.

"And I have a very long history of categorically fucking up everything good that happens to me. And I don't wanna do that here. With you. I want-" Eddie frowns, Steve moves, pulls them to the bed and rolls them, so they're facing each other.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, his fingers moving over Eddie's forhead, soothing the frown and then moving into his hair.

"I want you. I want to keep you." Eddie worries at his lip, Steve moves his thumb over it, drags it from between Eddie's teeth and soothes over the hurt.

"I wanna keep you too. We don't have to do anything right now. I just needed to be with you. After today." Steve says, shrugs his shoulder and curls closer.

"We can just- do this? Just be together?" Eddie asks, hesitant, his eyes falling closed as Steve hums,

"Mhm. We can just hold each other." Steve moves his fingers deeper into Eddie's hair, pulls him to his chest. Eddie clings to him, arms wrapped tight, hears that fucking rumble in Steve's chest again.

"Are you actually purring or does it just sound like it?" Eddie mumbles sleepily into Steve's chest. He feels him laugh, feels him pull Eddie impossibly closer.

"Hopper refuses to call it that. But I like it. I've only done it once before today though." Steve sighs, Eddie perks up, rests his chin on his arms and looks at Steve.

"When was the other time?" Eddie asks, eyes blinking slowly. Steve reaches up, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"With my friend Robin. You know her. From band." Eddie nods. Steve nods back.

"Yeah well. I came out to her last year and she was so excited, and happy, and accepting. She made me a cake. I mean it was terrible. But she made it just for me." Steve laughs, Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for more.

"And after, she told me she was proud of me. And that she loved me. And that's when it happened. I think it happens when you find your people. Like, my wolf just knows, when it's right." Steve's eyes won't stay on him, and he looks nervous again.

"She's like your platonic soulmate huh?" Eddie asks, pushing his finger around Steve's chest, drawing little nothings here and there. But he feels the tension leave Steve, feels him relax underneath him.

"Yeah. She is." He nods, eyes locked on Eddie now, his are shining with tears. Eddie nods, scoots a little closer, further up Steve's chest.

"I have one too. Jeff. He's in Hellfire with me. We're like two trippy peas in a far out pod." Steve scrunches his nose, lifts his head and kisses Eddie, sweet and soft.

"Thanks for understanding." Steve breathes.

"Sure. Give me enough time and I can understand anything. That ones easy though. I'm glad you have someone like that too." Eddie drops back down onto Steve's chest, gets comfy.

An hour later Steve manhandles him onto his side and presses up against his back, arms wrapped around Eddie like vines, keeping him close. Eddie shivers at being tossed around, even more at being held like he's something precious. He feels Steve smirk into his neck, feels that rumble again.

He smiles into Steve's arm, presses his lips to his skin and lets himself fall asleep, feeling loved, and wanted, and like he belongs to someone.

~°~

Eddie finds out later that Jeff was right. Chrissy absolutely is a vampire. And a good friend of Steve's. Eddie, Steve, and Robin may or may not parent trap them into several ridiculous situations before Chrissy finally tells them her and Jeff have been dating for almost three weeks now.

Eddie swears he knew. Steve can hear him lying. But let's him have it anyway. Robin refuses to let it go and constantly claims that the first time she meddled was three weeks ago which means she got them together which means she wins the bet.

Eddie remains unaware that there was even an actual bet going on. He just thought they were trying to make their friends happy. Steve can hear him telling the truth, and loves him for it.

Steve holds Eddie close almost every night, so so glad he heard Eddie talking at that party. And so so glad he'd told Robin, two weeks before that party, that he was gonna ask Eddie out. That he wanted to keep him forever.

She'd made fun of him of course. Eddie Munson? Really? But Steve had pressed on. Something about that sweet smell drawing him in.

And even after Steve claims him. Even after Eddie is his and no one elses. To Steve, he still smells so sweet, like the first rain of spring. Likes Steve's favorite fruit. Like Steve's. Like home.

#my writing #mine #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #this got so fucking long oh myyyyy goooodddd #I hope you like it friend!!!#im gonna take a nap now! be back in several hours!!!!#werewolf steve harrington #also a side of #jeff x chrissy #my fic

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phantomskeep · 22 days

Text

Putting the "Fun" Back In "Funeral" Chapter 4

AO3 | Chapter Three --- Chapter Five

Chapter Four: Gotham's One-Stop Shop For Villainy The first thing Danny noticed about this dimension was it smelled. A polluted haze hung heavy over the sky, casting the urban jungle in a dark mist and assaulting the halfa’s nose with the sharp tang of gasoline. Loud big-city sounds filled his ears as he caught himself in the midst of his free-fall, leaving the man distorted. It was so much different compared to his Keep in the Zone. To be pulled from a place of near-constant quiet into a realm full of honking horns, shouts and sirens was enough to have Danny reel his aura back in. The ambient ectoplasm around him felt sticky, and wrong, like the very air around Danny had been contaminated by something dark and sinister. He pulled his atmospheric spirit back, tugging where he could feel all the tiny little souls around him closer to himself. Bit by bit, his range of feelings depleted until he almost couldn’t feel the filth that surrounded him. Small pants left his lungs by the time Danny could only feel a tiny circle around himself that pulsed with his aura as he tried to keep a lid on his powers that desperately wanted to run free.

Attempting to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of not sensing the people around him, as well as the general unclean feeling of touching such disgusting ectoplasm, Danny spun in a small circle to try and get his bearings. The portal created by the Skeleton Key left him hovering over an old clocktower bathed in the haze of the city. Looking around proved to be near-futile, because even with his superior sight, Danny could barely see the street from where he floated.

The young man shifted the bags thrown over his shoulder, nervously looking around while trying to catch his breath. Clockwork had said his friend would be waiting for him, so where…?

“Hello, my King.”

A feminine voice caused Danny to startle, turning quickly to face the ghost that snuck up on him. The being before him reminded Danny of Shadow, almost. Their form was pitch black against the backdrop of the Victorian clocktower, constantly moving and shifting like a wispy fire. Piercing red eyes bore into him, causing him to nervously rub the back of his neck.

“Hi,” Danny spoke slowly. “Are you the one Clockwork told me about? The Spirit of Gotham?”

The ghost chuckled softly, moving their wispy form closer to Danny. A belated wisp of cold air worked its way out of his throat, letting him know another of the Realms was close. “I am, young King. You may call me Lady Gotham, the protector of this city.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Gotham. I’m Danny Phantom.” He said, remembering the many hours he spent with Pandora and Dorathea drilling the proper mannerisms into his thick skull. Danny bowed at the waist, ignoring how the two bags he carried knocked against his knees. “Thank you for allowing me into your domain and protections. I will treat your lair as my own– with the utmost kindness, respect, and haunting that should be given to any member of the Realms.”

“I accept your gratitudes and give my own, King Phantom.” Lady Gotham’s voice was steady when she spoke the traditional greetings of the Zone, unlike Danny’s own unsteady cadence. Danny rose from his bow to see the other’s form in her own imitation of a respectful stance. After a beat, she rose from it to meet his eyes again.

The young king grinned at the shifting shadow in front of him, allowing excitement-nice to meet you to leave the tight leash he had on his aura to tentatively brush against Lady Gotham. A little trill of happiness left his core at the tender hello-nice to meet you-calm that caressed the small bubble Danny had created.

“Come, Little One,” Gotham spoke gently. “Clockwork has left you in my care until your tasks are complete. The ones who are mine have prepared an area for you while you are under my protection. We will head there and I will teach you the cultures of this dimension. Is this acceptable, King Phantom?”

“More than, Lady Gotham.” Danny continued to smile at his new guardian. “But, please, call me Danny. Or Phantom. Just- just none of that king stuff, please.”

A quiet chuckle emitted from the shadow before him. “As you wish, Danny. If we are being informal, feel free to call me Gotham.” She paused, swiveling the area where her eyes rested around to face to her left. The movements reminded Danny of the character No-Face from Spirited Away, a heavy swing of herself in a dramatic full-body maneuver. “We must head north to reach the lair I have created for you, Little One.”

“Lead the way, Lady G!”

The flight over was a quick one, with Danny’s ghostly guide fading from the visible spectrum before taking off. Danny followed suit, taking care to keep Gotham in his tiny bubble. As they traveled, he strained himself to see through the muggy haze that encompassed Gotham’s city. They passed large, towering skyscrapers with flashy signs, massive highways filled to the brim with cars, and Danny could barely make out dark water when they passed over a bridge. There were no immediate outstanding differences between his home dimension and this one. So far everything seemed pretty normal, besides the slimy feeling tingling on the edges of his senses.

From the past couple experiences Danny had with time travel and multiverse hopping, the man was expecting to see something like flying cars or gravity-defying structures. But everything seemed almost normal. Maybe this world wasn’t one of those crazy superhuman filled ones like the one Kitty and Johnny told him stories of. Apparently, their home dimension was pretty wild.

Danny almost lost his ghostly companion when she led him across a wide-open area filled with plants, though he caught up with her when she began to head slightly to the left. They passed more towers, more open areas with the faint sounds of cresting waves against land, until Gotham finally began to slow down.

“This part of my city is called Cherry Hills,” she said as the two ghosts hovered over the city’s buildings. “Many of the areas to the northeastern side of this section are used as housing, the western as warehouses, and the southeastern as workspaces or labs.” The older being began to gently fly further north, slowly leading them closer to the buildings.

As the structures pulled into view, Danny took in the sights before him. A large highway cut through the housing district, and he could easily make out the far-off sight of warehouses leading to docks where a handful of large ships were tied up. A freight train’s blaring horn was accompanied by the flashes of light as it cut through the city’s haze. The raised railings of a metro train track ran alongside the highway. As they continued north, the housing buildings started to look more worn-down, less like their shiny brethren on the east side of the carpath.

“Is this the area I’m going to be living in?” Danny questioned after a while. He wasn’t too concerned about the state of the building he would be occupying - he (kind of) survived the Fenton household for eighteen years, after all -, but the shock of being in a large city was starting to grate on his nerves.

“Yes,” Lady Gotham said as she began to hover over one of the taller residential complexes. “This is the one.”

With that, Danny could only helplessly follow where he could feel her plummeting through the building’s roof. When he crossed the barrier, he let his invisibility go to match Gotham. Her shadowed form lazed within the large studio’s space, letting herself barely brush against the floor.

“Welcome to your new home, Little One.” Gotham swirled closer to him, the edges of her emotions pressing against him in a soothing tone of welcome-this is yours-take it. “I hope it is to your liking.”

An awed breath left Danny as he slowly turned to truly take in the studio apartment he was presented with. The ceilings were high, with one side tilted at an angle to run alongside the roof. Two large windows let the hazy day’s light peak through the panes, washing the area with a gentle glow. A nice-looking kitchen occupied the space’s far corner, and Danny was only a little disappointed to note it would probably not see much use. An open area was broken up with a sturdy kitchen table sitting innocently next to another large window. The corner along the same wall as the kitchen area ran into a cozy-looking living room area, an elevator space acting as a barrier to the adjacent corner.

Danny was a bit perplexed to note that scattered lab equipment filled that space. Did Clockwork tell Gotham that he was a mad scientist or something? But Danny moved on to take in the staircase leading up to an open L-shaped platform. Floating up, he found a cozy-looking king bed greeted him, along with a computer set-up that would have made Tucker drool. He excitedly noted a window with access to a balcony with stairs leading onto the top of the roof was attached to the same wall perpendicular to the one his bed was against.

The young king zoomed next to Gotham, a large smile on his face. “This is awesome! How the heck did you get this all set up?”

An easy chuckle left the other ghost’s form, gentle emotions swaying between the two as they continued to get used to the other. “The people of my city don’t often question when mysterious jobs line up for them. It is part of their culture to not ask too many questions, after all.”

“That’s…” Danny paused, trying in vain to find the morally correct words without offending his host. “Interesting?”

A rumbling purr filled the air, Gotham letting a gentle pulse of amusement ripple against her king. “Interesting is certainly a word for it. Do not fret, Little One, no harm comes to them.”

The young man awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed that his worries were so easily spotted by the older ghost. He wasn’t quite used to having anyone other than the Ancients or his friends read him with such ease - having another do so, even if she was a ghost and Clockwork’s friend, was unusual for Danny. It made him wonder what type of relationship she had with Clockwork, as he had never before seen or even heard of Gotham before now. Before he could question her, though, she swiftly spoke.

“Before we get too distracted, I must inform you of this dimension.” She shifted her way behind where Danny was hovering, seeming to herd him towards his new couch. “Sit, sit. There is no need to be uncomfortable for such a conversation.”

“Wait,” Danny protested. “Let me put my stuff down real quick.” Without waiting for a response, he zipped up to his new bed. Dropping his duffle and Clockwork’s satchel onto the plain blue bed sheet before rummaging around for the journal gifted to him. When he finally found it, the young man flew back to the simple pale couch where Gotham waited.

It was an odd sight to see. A giant, angry looking cloud of smog hovering like an exasperated parent in a picture-perfect looking home.

“Okay,” Danny started as he landed on the surprisingly comfortable couch. He leaned back, relaxing against soft cushions, as he let his transformation wash over himself. “So what do I need to know?”

Surprise rippled across the air at the sight of Danny’s flashy shift, but Gotham was composed when she spoke. “From what Clockwork has told me, you come from a dimension where you are one of three beings who are more than human?”

Giving a small nod, Danny felt like his chest would explode from the hope-excitement-trepidation at what Gotham was implying. “Are you saying there’s, like, people with powers here?!”

“Indeed,” Gotham agreed, her voice lifting at the other’s obvious excitement. “There are metahumans, those with the meta-gene, who are humans with various powers. Others include humans who have been experimented on, had accidents, know the magical arts, or even been subjected to ancient powers. Aliens have begun to call this Earth home, as well. This includes those from Mars, Krypton, Thanegar, Tamaran…” She trailed off, staring at Danny who was physically vibrating. “My king, are you okay?”

“There’s aliens?” He whispered. “You guys have aliens?!”

“Yes, many of them-”

“Holy fucking shit,” Danny jumped up, coming to eye level with a startled Gotham. “Can I meet them?! Can I visit their planets? How many are there, what do they look like, do they have powers?!” The young man was trying to grab onto something in order to steady himself, but his hands kept passing through Gotham’s smokey form. “Lady G, please tell me I can meet them. Please, I will literally die again if I can’t meet actual people who live in space.”

A happy laugh echoed across the apartment’s space, the City Spirit being the source of it. “You are certainly excited about this, Little One.”

“Of course!” He exclaimed, waving his noodle arms around. “Space is so cool, G. It’s the greatest thing ever, I love it! I’ve always wanted to explore it, ever since I was a kid.”

“Well, you will be glad to hear that meeting the aliens who call Earth home is something you will be able to do.”

“Do any of them live here? In your city?”

“No,” She said, moving her eyes to look out the large windows gracing the two with a hazy glow. “The Dark Knight, a man who helps protect my lair, does not allow ones with powers to operate within me.”

A curious expression overtook Danny. His excited movements slowed to a halt, and he regarded Gotham with a critical, glowing eye. “Do you want me to take care of him, Lady Gotham?”

Calm-do not worry-amusement gently brushed against Danny, causing him to relax. “As much as I appreciate your protection, Little One,” Gotham said as she faced her king. “The Batman has this rule for good reasons, ones that I agree with.”

Danny’s metaphorical hackles lowered at Gotham’s comment. The piercing neon green of his eyes bled back into their usual icy blue, though the curious look did not leave. “Why’s that? And who names their kid Batman?”

Part of the City Spirit’s dark cloud tried to nudge him back towards his couch. “The Batman,” she began, “is a hero who operates to protect my city. He was born here and donned his cape in order to help those in need from the many criminals who call my territory home.”

Danny gave an involuntary awed noise. “So you guys have heroes here, too?” A dark tendril of smog wrapped around the back of the couch, resting gently against Danny’s neck.

The idea of having other heroes around was something that greatly appealed to Danny. Being the lone super-powered protector of Amity Park for so long took its toll on the young man, even with his human companions. It just wasn’t the same, being the only one with advanced abilities. He had to take the bigger hits, he had to be the one to save his friends if they got into too great of a bind, he had to be the one to try and take on the burden of Amity Park alone when they all went off to find their place in the world. With great power comes great responsibility, after all. And being the Ghost King? Well, Danny had more than enough “great power” to spare.

The thought was just as sobering as it was exciting. Other heroes, super or not, meant that there was something to have caused those heroes to come into play. Some great villain, or a world-ending disaster, or even large crime rates. Lady Gotham only said criminals, though, so maybe there were no supervillains Danny needed to worry about.

“Yes. In fact, there is a large society of both heroes and villains.”

Well, it was a nice thought while it lasted.

“But many of the aliens you were so excited to hear about are among those heroes.” Gotham continued, not noticing Danny’s sudden mid-afterlife crisis. “There is the Batman, who is one of the founders of the Justice League. Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, Green Arrow, and many others are all part of this superhero society - the Justice League.”

“Okay,” Danny was desperately trying to keep up with this sudden information. “So, Batman is a super-powered dude who helped to start an entire squad of superheroes?”

“He has no powers. The Dark Knight is just a man, same with Green Arrow and many others. They simply are able to keep up with the aliens, gods, and metas.”

Danny paused, taking in a breath. He touched his fingers together, pressing his palms flat. Another breath was taken, this one deeper than the last. With every ounce of teenage angst he still had within him, Danny lifted his hands up together to rest against his forehead before bringing them down in an arch that would have made Sam proud. “What the fuck.”

A laugh rolled from Gotham’s form, his guardian sneakily tightening her protective hold on him. “What the fuck indeed, Little One.”

“Okay, okay-” Danny’s voice cracked with indignation, “So regular everyday humans fight supervillains and are able to keep up with gods? And super-powered aliens?”

“Yes.”

“And one of those humans - who named himself after a bat - is the sole protector of your lair? Besides yourself? And he doesn’t let any of his superhero friends help him?”

“I never said he worked alone. Though, for a long time he did not have any help.”

“Lady G,” Danny said again with exasperation. “I repeat: what the fuck.”

Her only response was to laugh at his expense as he continued to moan about how he couldn’t seem to escape crazy people, no matter what dimension he runs to. The space shared by two multi-dimensional beings filled with an easy warmth.

“So,” Danny started after a couple minutes of his grumbling. “Superpowered people aren’t allowed in your city because one of your protectors is just a man in a… What, fursuit? A crime-fighting fursuit?” He paused, considering, before rapidly moving on. “But there are super-powered people in this dimension who are also heroes.”

“Yes, that is all true.”

The young man took a second, silently thinking, before speaking again. “Okay, okay,” He started. “And the chances that I’m going to have to just… steal all of these ghostly artifacts is pretty high, right?”

“Again, you are correct.”

“So,” Danny said, stretching out the word. “Chances are they’re going to think I’m some sort of villain.”

Gotham made a noise akin to two cars scraping against each other as she hesitated to answer. “There is a chance of that, yes.”

“Great,” he bemoaned, bonelessly flopping around his couch. “Guess it’s time to pull out the ol’ acting shoes. Welcome to Danny’s One-Stop Shop for Villainy.”

Foreign emotions rubbed against the sulking man’s aura, the City Spirit’s feelings of do not fret-all is well-I will protect you soothing Danny’s temperament. “There is no need for all of that, Little King.” When their eyes met, Gotham’s form had smoothed into a rolling fog compared to her usual flaking fire. “If all else fails, you can learn to have some fun with it. Many of the heroes and villains of this world have… gimmicks, if you would, for their respective personas.”

A critical eye was shot to the other ghost. “What do you mean by that? My ghost form’s already pretty gimmicky.”

“But,” she said. “You can always take it to the next level. I would suggest you do some research on the various powers who live within my city as well as this world. You may find some inspiration.” She paused before speaking with a teasing tone. “I also believe that Clockwork told you to blend in? Maybe a name like Inviso-bill would fit right in with the likes of Condiment King and Kiteman.”

“Absolutely not!” He screeched, waving his hands wildly as he bared his teeth. “How do you even know about that?!”

A purr echoed from Gotham’s chest, so fierce Danny could feel it vibrating his own core. “I have my ways, Little One.”

“Fucking cryptic geezers,” Danny sullenly mumbled as he pouted. “I don’t even know where I could get an outfit for stealing stuff, anyways.”

“Were you not planning on doing it in your more ghostly form?”

He stopped, eyeballing Gotham’s face area with a critical eye. The other was facing him, though more of her wispy form had started to curl around his shoulders like a lazy cat soaking up the warmth of the sun. “I thought using powers in your city was a no-no?”

“That does not mean you cannot use your other form,” Gotham’s voice took on a lecturing tone. “You just will not be able to use your powers in an obvious way. It would help to protect your identity, and I know that you know the risks of not being in one of your forms for too long. Clockwork, at the very least, informed me to help you keep track of your health.”

Danny grumbled a bit, remembering the last lecture he endured from Frostbite about his general health. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Can’t I just use my ghost form as is, then?”

“I would not recommend it.”

“Why’s that?” Danny inquired.

Gotham huffed, “Because, quite frankly, there are magic users who know about your coronation. Any being with ties to death - through magic or dying or any other way - heard the Song of Ancients as you took the crown. It will not take long for your influence over the Realms to reach here, and when that occurs they will know.”

“And then the jig is up?”

“Yes, then the ‘jig is up’.”

A loud groan left him, frustration causing Danny to get up and pace. “So, what? I just go around and snatch everything while invisible? Or in the Kingly gear? ‘Cause I don’t think my HAZMAT is the kind of gimmick you’re thinking of. Besides, wouldn’t either form just give everything away from the get-go?”

When Gotham didn’t respond, the young man turned to face her. The City Spirit was staring at him, not saying anything.

“What?” He finally asked when he couldn’t stand it.

“You can change the outfit of your form.” She stated. “Did you not know this?”

Danny nodded his head, “I mean, yeah, I swapped from the robes to my HAZMAT earlier - but I don’t even know how to start on an entirely new outfit!”

The older ghost let out a quiet laugh, “Do not fret, Little One. I can teach you how to alter your form.”

“Can you change yours?” The young man asked, curious. He knew Amorpho could shapeshift and that often a ghost could generally alter their appearance, but he didn’t think he would be able to alter his own.

“I used to be able to,” grief rolled off Gotham in waves, the intensity of it staggering. A dark cloud seemed to roll over the city, the weak light bleeding through the loft’s windows almost completely disappearing. “It was a long, long time ago that I was last able to.”

Danny reached out, letting apologies-you’re okay-I’m okay-we’re safe tentatively brush against his companion’s anguish. “Well, maybe we can figure out how to get you to change forms again. I’ll do some nosying around and figure out the best way to blend in so I can snatch some fun stuff.”

A thankful emotion poked through Gotham’s grief as she agreed with the young man before her. “Until then,” she started. “It might be a good idea for you to settle some more. I need to rest before attempting to mentor you through something as draining as altering yourself.”

“Alright,” Danny easily agreed. “Should I stay in here while you do that, or is it a good idea for me to roam around a bit?”

Gotham paused, considering. “You should be fine to wander, though I would suggest spending time familiarizing yourself with my occupants beforehand.”

“Gotcha,” he gave his new friend a small smile. “Thank you, again, for helping me with this. I really do appreciate it, Lady Gotham.”

“But of course,” she said in a tone full of fondness. “Clockwork has spoken highly of you throughout the years. I am pleased to see his judgment was not misguided.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re pretty chill.” Danny happily moved closer to the City Spirit.

If Gotham had a physical mouth, Danny would bet that she was smiling at him when she spoke. “I will leave you to it, then. If you are in need of anything simply flare your aura. I will feel it, no matter where you are.”

“You got it, Lady G.”

And with that, the Spirit of Gotham faded from the visible spectrum. Danny felt her slip out of his aura’s bubble and he was suddenly alone in a completely new dimension. Which was, apparently, full of superheroes, supervillains, and everything in between. When the young man began walking up the stairs to where his computer was set up, the only thing on his mind was figuring out where Clockwork’s list of artifacts were and which hero he was going to look up first. That Batman dude sure sounded like a good place to start.

╮(╯▽╰)╭

The sheer amount of non-earthly beings that occupied this dimension’s earth was crazy. That was the conclusion that Danny came to hours after Gotham had left him.

It took flipping through old news channels, trolling internet forums, random fan blogs, and even watching a few interviews of various heroes for Danny to get a vague grasp of this new reality. There were some heroes that he couldn’t get a full view of - the Batman being one of them. All he could find were grainy photos of the hero and hints that he wasn’t the only vigilante in the city.

Which would make Danny’s job a bit harder.

During his deep dive into this dimension’s cultures, Danny flipped through the little journal Clockwork had gifted him. His mentor’s steady handwriting listed out the various artifacts he was going to need to find as well as their general location. Many of those artifacts, after using his shiny new high-tech computer to look them up, were located in public places or stored in secret, secure facilities. Yoinking the public ones wouldn’t be too much of an issue for Danny - his abilities would make it rather easy to avoid detection, after all - but he had no idea what a “Fortress of Solitude” was. Or even something as vague as “The Watchtower”. Seriously, some of these places sounded weird.

But others had cities listed out. Star City was obviously a town, he knew where Gotham was (duh), and even places like Themyscira were easy enough to Google. It was with this brilliant deduction that led Danny to believe some of the weirder names weren’t attached to a city at all which was rather worrying.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who asked) Clockwork wasn’t one to steer Danny in a direction the old ghost knew wouldn’t work out. So with a healthy dose of blind faith, Danny chose to focus on whatever artifacts he could easily access for now. This meant Danny spent a decent amount of time casually scrolling through museum articles, even more blogs, and whatever else he could get his grubby little hands on. Honestly, it made the Ghost King feel like he was back in highschool trying to desperately write an entire research essay the day it was due.

The first item on Danny’s newly named “List of Shit I Need to Steal” was an item called the Hand of Greed. According to the Gotham Museum of Natural History’s website, the Hand of Greed was a statuette found in an Ancient Greek city. There were some general facts about when it was found, who discovered it, and how it came into the Museum’s care. The Wikipedia page elaborated more on the lore behind the dark statuette, though.

According to random people on the internet, the Hand of Greed had been found by Ancient Greek farmers after a lightning storm in a graveyard. There was more than a few forums debating on what caused the storm, where the hand came from, and even some people arguing that everything about the Hand was made-up. The forums then led Danny to a dead end - nothing had ever been formally concluded about the relic’s origins. It frustrated Danny a little bit. He wanted to be at least slightly more prepared for his first ever consensual heist. The half-ghost broke away from his hunched position over his desk, popping his back and yawning. The motions of this move caused his stomach to gurgle angrily, reminding Danny that eating was still something he had to do.

The young man stretched himself out, wiggling around his comfy office chair. “Guess I better get some food or something,” Danny mumbled to himself. His eyes didn’t move from where they were focused on his setup’s main monitor, where a picture of the strong fist carved out of black marble rested.

With a dramatic groan meant for no one but himself, Danny spun his chair around. He easily hefted himself off of the space, casually walking to where his duffle bag still rested. He rummaged around, grabbing his wallet before moseying his way to the elevator.

It wasn’t like Danny didn’t want to steal something, per se. As he smacked the “down” button, he considered the morality of taking something that did, technically, belong to him. It wasn’t like the people who found the statue knew it originated in the Ghost Zone - to them it was just an old statue with a weird story behind it.

The elevator arrived with a happy-sounding “ding!” and Danny stepped into the space as he fiddled with the bracelets resting on his wrist. He would have to make a plan to break into the museum, something the halfa was not looking forward to, especially with how little his research brought up. Reaching out, he poked the lobby button before resting his back against the stainless steel walls.

Maybe he could just go in invisibly? This Batman hero wouldn’t even be able to catch him if he never even appeared on camera, after all. It wasn’t like Danny had an identity in this world, anyways. Any hero would be hard-pressed to catch a ghost in the machine. The elevator stopped, doors opening with the same cheery noise.

But, even though Danny hated to admit it, he kind of wanted to meet the heroes of this dimension.

The young man continued to think about it as he walked out of the building’s lobby, not even taking note of the inside of it or the people loitering. Breathing in city smog, Danny pulled his beat-to-hell phone out of where it was resting in his khaki pants. He focused just enough to figure out where the closest convenience store was, slap a pin on his new home, and make his way in the general direction of where he needed to go.

Danny was honestly pretty surprised to see his phone worked. The shock of finding out that yes, his shitty phone did in fact apparently carry a multi-dimensional data plan, brought his attention to money. Lady Gotham didn’t really explain what forms of currency this dimension used, nor did he even consider looking that up.

Which he could solve right now, by using his phone that did somehow work. But where was the fun in that? He had to spice up his obviously too-boring life somehow. All else failed, he would just act like he was from a different country or something. There’s no way that could backfire on him - no siree, no backfiring here. And technically he wouldn’t be lying, either. It’s a win-win either way.

It was with these thoughts that Danny serenely entered a beat-up looking store with various ads decorating its windows. He had about twenty dollars in his pockets when he hopped dimensions, which would hopefully be enough to grab a sandwich or something.

Danny really, really hoped that the currency of this dimension was the same.

After the halfa snagged a decent looking chicken salad sandwich out of the store’s stacked fridges, he found it was at least similar enough to get him the food and a fountain drink. Danny took his change, thanked the cashier, and went back outside. The man leaned his back against cool glass and took out his phone to see how close the museum was to him. If nothing else, Danny could make his way to the place and do a little reconnaissance.

It seemed like something Jazz would want him to do, after all.

The GPS app on Danny’s phone showed him that the Museum of Natural History was down in Gotham’s University District, closer to where he first came into this dimension than where he was now. A forty minute drive by car, apparently, but the halfa was sure he would be able to fly there in under ten. With a small smirk, Danny stuffed his lunch into his mouth as he hurriedly searched for a decent alleyway to shift forms in.

Finding a decent spot proved to be more difficult than he had expected. The city was teeming with life - people spilling in and out of the streets and bustling across warm concrete as they went about their lives. It was after the fourth time Danny wandered into an empty-looking alley, only to find a shady deal going on, that he felt frustrated beyond belief.

It had never been this hard in Amity to find an unoccupied spot to swap to his ghost form in. The spaces between buildings almost never had other people in them, and even when there were all Danny had to do was make it to the next one over to be alone. Here, though, it was proving to be a larger task. People were everywhere and it was starting to get on the halfa’s nerves.

Danny didn’t miss home already, nope. He hadn’t even been in this dimension for twelve hours - he couldn’t break this early.

Finally, after spending way too much time trying to find a discrete area to die, Danny let his transformation sweep over himself. He faded away from the visible spectrum as soon as familiar rings of light sputtered out. He quickly shot to the sky, gazing down on the city below him with delight.

Yeah, it wasn’t Amity Park. There were people everywhere, it smelled horrible, and Danny could still feel the sticky ectoplasm of the city brushing against his aura.

But it was beautiful in its own way.

Towering skyscrapers outline the heart of the city in the distance, windows reflecting back what bits of sky peaked through the slowly lifting haze. Flashing lights rose from between the cramped buildings, washing Gotham’s people in hues of red and blue. The noise was a pleasant backdrop as Danny flew between the streets, a smile gracing his face.

He could see himself getting used to this.

Minutes passed as the halfa twirled between man-made structures, occasionally dropping down to listen to the various people as they went about their day. It was when Danny flew up to the top of a skyscraper, his whole being bursting with joy as he played in the sky, that he felt an angry pulse brush against his aura.

Startled, Danny hovered over the top of the office space. Warily, the young man sent back a questioning feeling - doing his best to keep his little bubble of safety. He was left waiting, anxiety slowly building the longer no ghost appeared on his senses.

Who had sent that? Danny wasn’t quite sure, but the only other ghost he had met in this dimension was Gotham. It had to have been her, but why was she angry?

His guess was proven correct when a black cloud rose from the edge of the skyscraper, sides flared like an avenging angel's wings. Startled, Danny dropped to the roof, taking a few steps back as his hands rose into a defensive position and his invisibility fell. Belated, a wispy breath left his mouth when the older ghost drew closer.

“My King,” Gotham’s angry voice crashed against Danny’s senses. Long gone were the soothing tones from earlier. In their place were sounds that made the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck raise up, his senses screaming DANGER DANGER! “What did I tell you about using your abilities here?”

“I thought that was just for whenever I was stealing stuff!” Danny protested, trying to recall their conversation earlier. “I was just trying to scope out the museum - the Hand of Greed is something on Clockwork’s list.”

Gotham snarled, her form twisting angrily. “No, you shouldn’t be using any of your abilities. The risk is too great.”

Hesitating, Danny warred with himself. On one hand, he didn’t want to piss off his ghostly host on the first day he stayed with her. That was just bad manners, and he knew Pandora would be disappointed in him if he wasn’t polite. However, not being able to use his powers? Ever, as long as he was inside Gotham’s city? That was just too much to ask for, in his own opinion. Danny could understand not wanting him to use his powers to avoid Gotham’s protector’s wrath, but on a day-to-day basis?

Danny wasn’t too sure if he could do that. His powers were part of him and he thought he was finally going to a place where he wouldn’t have to hide who he was.

At the end of the day, though, Danny wasn’t one to try and piss off his allies. He had made too many enemies over the years to be okay with that.

“I’m sorry, Lady Gotham.” Danny spoke, trying to hide the frustration that had so quickly overtook his fear. “I won’t use my powers in your city - unless I am in my apartment.”

The spirit’s form shifted, considering. “Very well, I accept your apology.” She hesitated, for just a split-second, before continuing. “I think it is time we head back to your haunt, Little One. I still need to teach you how to shift forms and I want you to be prepared for when you meet my protectors in a few days.”

“A few days?” Danny asked, confused. That wasn’t his plan.

“Yes,” Gotham said. “Did you not want to get settled before attempting to lift the artifact?”

Danny shot a confident grin at the City Spirit, his eyes alight with mischief. “I know we just met and all, but did you really think I would do anything else?”

“No,” Gotham conceded. “I will do my best to aid you on your heist tonight, but please be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” Danny sassed as he let his playful nature wash back over him. “Show me how to change my outfit?”

“As you wish, Little One.”

ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ

Gotham’s setting sun cast an eerie, dark red light across Jason’s apartment. The rays washed over him, making it look like the man was stained with spilled blood. Dick had just set off with a cheery promise to see the other on patrol before slipping out the door, leaving his younger brother alone for the small amount of time it took for the sun to set. Soon, Gotham City would be cast into the darkness of night, with the city’s criminal elements slowly spilling onto the streets.

It was during the night that Jason always felt the most alive.

Before, when he was still living in a shitty Crime Alley apartment, it was because that was when Willis would go out. The arguments that came from him and Catherine would scare Jason more than the gunshots on the street. At least those were outside the safe walls of his home, but inside? To him, that was where the real danger lurked in the form of two angry adults.

Then, it was the streets. They had never been safe - but now that Jason was truly a part of them, he had to learn the tricks to stay alive. Part of that meant finding a safe place to squat, to wait out the evils that lurked in Gotham’s shadowed nights. The Bat was known for hunting and hurting criminals - something Willis had raged about more than once - and Jason was just a street rat who stole to survive. He had to stay alert during the lonely nights. Streets clouded in darkness just weren’t safe for a kid.

After the streets, it was being Robin. Fighting alongside Batman, helping give others hope and protection, and doing what he could to make his home just a little safer was like magic. He felt alive, freer than he ever had before that. It wasn’t just the adrenaline pumping through his veins or the thrill of leaping between rooftops, it was being able to help his home.

Jason was Gotham, born and bred in the darkest parts of the city’s heart. More than Bruce, or Dick, or even Babs could ever be - so of course he felt more alive in the comfort of night.

Then, he died, and being alive was never the same.

He was learning how to live with it, slowly but surely. The waves of green rage had originally helped Jason feel more alive, a little bit more sane while he struggled to figure out who he was. But even his own mind had betrayed him, at the end of the day. Basking in the pit rage had become an addiction, a high that he could use to finally feel again.

Within the past few months, Jason’s mind had been slowly coming down from the almost three-year stint of using the Lazarus Pit’s “gift” as a metaphorical emotional shield. It had been rough, trying to notice when it was the artificial rage whispering in his ear or his own emotions coming to the forefront.

Now, though? Oddly enough, even when Jason reached for the space he had learned the Pit coiled in, the green never threatened to take over. Throughout Dick’s impromptu forceful brotherly-bonding day, Jason hadn’t felt a single peep from the corner of his mind occupied by the unwanted side-effects of a green, gooey hot tub from Hell.

It was nice to be alone in his own mind again.

These thoughts raced around Jason’s mind as he went about the motions of getting ready for a normal patrol. It was odd, thinking the last patrol he had been on led him to the Batcave. Jason had been expecting to feel at least slightly off-center with the Pit Rage gone from its sulking corner. If anything, though, he felt more normal than he had in years.

As heavy kevlar fell to rest comfortably against Jason’s body, he noticed a bullet hole in the shoulder of his uniform. Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, he examined the damaged spot. That hadn’t been there the last time he donned his metaphorical cape, but Jason was pretty sure he would have noticed if he had been shot.

… He would ask Dick about it during patrol. Maybe that was how he ended up as high as a kitten on catnip?

Slipping his guns into their correct holsters, the young man snatched his bright red helmet from its hidden compartment. An almost feral grin danced across his face - the Red Hood coming out to play was always the highlight of Jason’s day.

When the sun had finished slowly sinking below the smog-filled horizon, Jason meandered down a stealthily hidden passageway to the secret bunker that housed most of Hood’s equipment. He was surprised to find his beloved hotrod-red bike parked in its usual spot – Jason figured he would have used one of his less-used bikes until he was able to get it from the Cave.

He didn’t think too long about it, though, as he grabbed the rest of his gear and dropped down onto the piece of machinery. A loud rev of the engine reverberated between the enclosed walls of his bunker as he pressed a button on one of the bike’s handlebars. Across from him, a large garage door slowly groaned to life. Jason kicked off from the ground, jumping into Gotham’s old tunnel system with practice ease.

The tunnels had originally been part of the Court of Owl’s underground hideouts, but after the Bat-family took down their operations, Red Hood had quickly laid a bright-red claim to them - including the bunker under his building. The tunnel system was near-perfect as it was. Some of it needed a bit of repairs and cleanup, but hidden ways to travel around the major points of Gotham with discreet access points was a resource Jason just couldn’t say no to.

It was through one of these openings that the Red Hood burst into the darkened streets, engine loudly announcing the start of Jason’s patrol to any bystanders who may be in earshot.

He quickly sped through the dimly lit streets, expertly navigating to one of the many areas Jason leaves his bike during the night. Today, he had decided, was going to just be an easy patrol. A nice little stroll through Crime Alley, maybe a stop at one of his favorite twenty-four hour hole in the walls, and then finishing up his night with a well-deserved bath.

With that in mind, the Red Hood grappled up to Gotham’s darkened rooftops, letting the city’s shadows envelope him in a cool, familiar embrace. Street lights flickered noisily, enhancing the darkened figures thrown across well-worn buildings. The great expanse of Gotham’s ever-changing skyline greeted the helmeted vigilante as he began his daily patrol across his home territory.

A thick layer of smog blocked the moon and stars from being seen by the millions of Gothamites, the haze from the day still lingering at the very edges of the giant city. The early spring breeze brought a light chill to the night, making Jason glad he had a layered uniform, unlike when he was a child strutting around in Dick’s old scaly panties.

He tapped the side of his helmet three times, turning on the communication unit built into its protective metals. A quiet chatter of his family greeted him and against his will, Jason felt his shoulders drop just a bit.

“-I’m saying that it’s obvious that Ivy and Harley are going to get married soon.” Dick’s voice was broken up by the sounds of wind sweeping across his speaker, small grunts echoing in Jason’s ear as his older brother danced across rooftops in a well-loved routine.

Stephanie’s response came with the usual hyper rush Jason has learned to associate with his fellow street kid. “And I’m saying that I think they’re going to wait a little longer. We all know how Ivy is about commitments.”

“But she and Harley have been dating for years. If the two of them can survive that tantrum Kiteman had a few months ago, then I think they’re pretty much set for life.”

“Quiet on the line.” Bruce’s gravelly tone was a bit of an unwelcome entry in the friendly banter, making Jason fight to contain the natural tensing of his body. He forced himself to relax, jumping from the roof of a crumbling apartment building and onto an old office building in a much similar state.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, B.” Dick let out a larger grunt, a fleshy sound accompanying it. “Hey guys, mind if I drop in? Seems like you’re all having the party of a lifetime.”

“Fighting on an open line?” Jason drawled, never one to not poke at Dick. “Watch out, Boy Wonder. Daddy-bat’s gonna ground you at this rate.” A single grunt was the only response Jason’s quip earned, making him sneer a bit under his protective hood.

Figures.

Before the gun-slinging vigilante could even get another word in, he heard the “ping” associated with Oracle dragging his communication unit down onto another line. “Hood, I’ve gotten reports of a gang break-in a few blocks from your location. Double back, it’s the building across from where you stored your bike.”

“Of course,” he groaned, but still dutifully skidded to a stop. Jason threw himself into sprinting back across the different roofs he had just parkoured his way over. “Any more information on the situation?”

“Negative.”

“Wonderful.”

It took him a few minutes, but soon Jason was back in the general area where he had started his night. “Is it the jewelers or the pawn shop?” Jason asked the quiet line, staring down at the littered streets.

“The jewelers,” Babs said. “Footage is showing four guys, their getaway driver is waiting outside near the back. Dark blue van. Best to proceed with the burglars then the driver, from what I can see.”

“Got it, going in now.”

“Good luck.”

The large vigilante dropped down in front of the store, scanning through the broken glass. He could barely see the four figures shoving anything they could grab into worn duffle bags. From what Jason could tell, none of them were armed – meaning he was quick to slip sneakily through the opening they had made when one’s back was turned. It was his odd hybrid training that allowed him to move so quickly and silently when his body mass was constantly working against him.

Hood snuck up behind a robber who was rooting around a now-broken glass case. The vigilante’s quiet movements served him well as he suddenly struck his arms out, grabbing the masked civilian around the throat. The man made an aborted shout, alerting his friends to the vigilante among their ranks as the Red Hood turned them around. Now with the thug between himself and his buddies, Jason tightened his forearm against the warm neck he held hostage.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Jason’s modulated voice rippled over the thieves. “Surrender or you’ll end up like chucklefuck here.” With the end of his statement, he tightened his grip and swept the other man’s legs out from under him, Jason placing one of his own legs between to keep his prey unsteady.

The thief in his arms started babbling pleads as he desperately squirmed in Hood’s grasp. His friends cautiously lowered their bags, one even going as far as to show Jason his free hand.

“Easy now,” The one furthest from the door said. “We’re just tyin’ ta put food on t’ table.”

“That’s understandable,” The masked vigilante said in a tone laced with half-fake sympathy. “But there’s better ways to go around getting money than robbing stores. Surrender and I’m sure prison’ll teach ya’.”

“Yeah,” The far guy spoke up again. “Not gonna happen, cape.” With that, the dude kicked a heavy rock at Jason with surprising accuracy, forcing him to let go of the squirming criminal in his grasp. As much as Jason would be fine with the dude getting a concussion, he’s sure the other bats would not be so chill about it.

The thief that was caught in Jason’s grapple was busy running, trying to make an epic getaway. It gave Jason time to pull out his handgun and a warning shot was fired, putting a smoking hole into the floor in front of the fleeing robber. The man, to his credit, didn’t flinch at the loud noise and instead kept gunning for the exit where his friends were waiting for him.

With a curse, Jason realized a bit late that the three of them were almost at the door – which he noticed had been disarmed. He slipped his gun back into its rightful place before he raced after the three thieves. As they ran through the store, jumping over jewelry cases and feeling his boots slide across scattered glass shards dusting the floor like deadly fallen snow. The vigilante pulled out a bola set from where it was hanging on his utility belt, aimed as best he could while running, and threw it with terrifying accuracy towards the first criminal in the fleeing line.

The bolas caught on the robber’s legs, drawing them up short. With a panicked shout, the man went down like a live oak – with a heavy crash and shaking limbs. The two behind him stumbled to a frightened stop, obviously startled. Jason used those couple precious milliseconds to gain ground on the group, already planning his next move. A gloved hand reached back towards his belt, gripping onto his last bola set. By the time he was re-noticed by the criminals, he was mere feet away from the trio. One of them let out a surprised noise, fleeing the scene and leaving his friends behind. It was him that Jason aimed his bolas at, easily letting the capture weapon fly and snag the wayward robber.

The last one had been trying to help his friend out, on his knees with a knife frantically sawing through the rope binding his buddies’ legs. When Jason was close enough, he pulled the man up by the back of his jacket and punched him across the nose. The squirming criminals’s hands came up to clutch at the bruised cartilage and Jason slapped Bat-grade handcuffs across his wrists.

“Now,” Jason said as he dropped his prey. He turned to look at the other two, focusing on the man at his feet while the one in his hands squirmed around. “Maybe it’s nap-time for some naughty boys.”

“Let us go, Hood!” The man in his hands yelled, drawing Jason’s attention. “C’mon, man, we got families! Don’t throw us in jail!”

“You should have thought of that before you decided crime was your best option.” The helmeted man practically growled. “What would your family say if they found out this was the way you made your money? Huh?”

“Don’t be so naïve, Hood,” The man on the floor snarled.

“How about you shut up, huh?” Jason snapped, looming over the other. He dropped the handcuffed guy next to the one on the floor before manhandling the un-handcuffed guy around to turn him into a newly-minted handcuff guy. “Time to take care of your last pal, boys.” But when Jason lifted his head towards the exit of the darkened store, all he saw was his now-sawed bolas and a wide-open door. “Oh you have got to be shittin’ me.”

With a quick tap to his helmet, Hood rejoined the open line Gotham’s vigilantes used to alert when a crime was stopped as he ran through the open doorway. “Oracle, got two of the four. They’re locked up in cuffs, in pursuit of the others.”

“Noted,” Bab’s steady voice filled Jason’s ears. “I’ve got eyes on their get-away car and contacted GPD - so far they’re heading south through the Bowery.”

“Got it. Do I have time to grab my bike or am I using the Rooftop Express tonight?”

“Get the bike, they’re not slowing down.” Oracle paused for a split-second, no doubt cross-referencing the activities of all the vigilantes roaming the streets. “Red Robin will cut them off if they start heading east.”

Red Hood huffs as he spots his bike, having raced over from the now-destroyed shop. “Sounds good,” he started his bike with a deafening cry from the engine, adrenaline pumping through the ex-crime lord’s veins. It was odd, to be so excited for a chase and not feel r agerageragerage in the far corners of his mind, threatening to cloud his thoughts with mindless violence. “Streets?”

As Oracle rattles off the street name Hood’s suspects are using to attempt to get away, the man uses his modified bike to its greatest potential. Weaving through traffic was something Jason was used to - it was as natural as grappling across rooftops for the young man. To slip between cars while traveling at high speeds was a rush he craved. Add in the hunt of criminals? Well, Jason was as happy as a Bat with a cold case.

When Jason spotted the criminal’s van, they were deep into the heart of Gotham. He had chased them through the Bowery, over the Robins Bridge. Gotham itself was a city made up of multiple islands - each broken up by different inlets bleeding into the Gotham Bay. Sprang River separated the northernmost parts of Gotham from the older parts of the city, like the Upper East Side, Diamond District, and University District. As soon as Barbara informed Jason that his suspects were heading through the Upper East Side, a plan started to formulate.

The Upper East side was broken into a grid pattern, much like how New York City was. If Jason could speed through the lesser-used streets parallel to 35th, then there was a chance he could cut them off. A quick one-handed pat down of his bike’s stylish saddlebags confirmed he had a set of tire spikes. Hidden under his hood, an excited smile grew.

“Hey, Oracle,” Jason cut off the red-headed wonder’s listing of streets. “I’m going to spike the van. What’s the traffic lookin’ like?”

There was a pause before a resigned sigh filtered through Red Hood’s helmet. “Traffic is mostly clear, they’re closing in on Robinson Park now. Best thing to do is try and get them in that area - it gives me time to stop traffic around there.”

“Perfect,” Hood purred as he pushed his bike faster, expertly weaving around the late-night commuters. In just a few minutes, Hood got the confirmation from Oracle that now was a good time to enact their plan. With a quick twist of his body, Jason’s bike dodged between skyscrapers as he burst onto the main road in the Upper East Side. The criminal’s van was just barely behind him and, having no time to maneuver, ended up driving over the spikes Red Hood threw into the road.

A pop and the eerie screeching of machinery enveloped Jason’s senses as his prey struggled to keep their getaway vehicle under control. When it finally crashed into a light pole, an odd quiet seemed to brush over the city. With an expert flick of his foot, Jason lowered his bike’s kickstand before stalking over to the smoking van. He brought a padded elbow up, smashing the window in a practiced move. As glass fell like a dangerous snow, he paused to take in the sight of the criminals before him.

The van’s airbags had deployed, leaving his two runaways unconscious in their seats. With a huff, the vigilante opened the driver’s door. He checked over the two thugs with practise ease, making sure there were no injuries he may need to know about before moving them out of their now-busted van.

“Got them, Oracle,” Hood said, pulling the two men out of the van. He set them a few feet away, zip-tying their hands and feet together. “Cops on their way?”

“They’ll be there in two minutes. Any chance you can pick up the spikes?”

“Sure,” Jason agreed easily, sauntering his way down the street. He could see the faraway headlights of cars heading his way as he rolled up the spikes. As the black-haired man secured them back into the saddlebags, he heard the distant sound of sirens.

“You best get a move on, Hood,” Oracle cautioned. Typing joined her speech, urgency picking up in her voice as she directed him. “Looks like there’s been a break-in at the History Museum. You’re the closest unoccupied.”

“Seriously?” Jason groused, hopping back onto his bike. He left the criminals in a trail of exhaust right as the Gotham Police Department showed up. The vague threats they made followed the Red Hood as he sped towards the University District. “You know I hate that place.”

“Well, sucks to suck. Batman and Robin are currently chasing down a lead on Penguin’s drug trade, otherwise I would send the two of them.”

Hood paused, his brain going to places he definitely did not want it going. “New lead or the one from yesterday?”

“New lead - Red Robin and Orphan picked it up while you were indisposed.” With a sigh, Hood parked his bike in a random alleyway, taking note of the streets near it. The large man grappled his way up to the roof of the building before starting to parkour his way towards the museum, grumbling the entire way.

It wasn’t that Jason didn’t want to stop a thief, or that he was embarrassed about being drugged the other day. No, it wasn’t that. A fight was something Jason pretty much welcomed every night he donned his guns and helmet. The museum was simply too full of times before. Before he had died, when things were just a bit easier. When it was just him, Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. Back when he wore the scaly panties and hid in Batman’s cape. When banter and quips thrown at villains came easier to him, when he thought Batman would always be there to catch him when Jason fell.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had changed about the museum since the last time he was there, six years ago, stopping Catwoman with Batman. From doing his best to ignore the flirting between his father mentor and the thief.

Now, instead of the hand-me-down Robin uniform, it was the Red Hood armor Jason wore to strike down a thief.

Jason’s musing cut off as he landed hard on the roof across from the museum. The vigilante rolled into a light jog, shaking off the pain racing through his knees. He could see the top of his targeted building, stopping at the edge of the rooftop he was occupying to try and get a better view.

He needed to figure out what caused the alarm to trip on the building in the first place. It didn’t seem like the type of area one of the usual Gotham Rogue Gallery would target for any occasion. Maybe Catwoman, but Jason didn’t know of any jewels in any exhibit that she would try to steal.

“Do you have any information on who might’ve broken in? I can’t think of anything Catwoman would try to get her hands on.” Jason asked as he kept a moving eye on the building across from him.

A thoughtful hum came from the other side of the transmission. “I’m looking at the CCTV footage now. The person who broke in is still inside, and appears to be wearing a dark, hooded outfit. White accents as well - whoever it is, they’re not one of our usuals.”

Jason cocked his head, body lighting up with a curiosity he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Roger, going in now. Might as well figure out who it is.” Aiming his grapple gun towards a secure part of the museum’s building, he triggered the mechanism with a satisfying pop and whirr. With an ease born from being a Bat, he jumped off the rooftop - soaring above the late-night foot traffic with a small thrill.

Oracle’s voice crackled as she spoke. “Hood, wait for at least one other to arrive before engaging. All CCTV footage is corrupted - this guy must’ve used a localized EMP of some sort, and depending on how strong it is, we might lose contact.”

“I thought the others were occupied?” The man questioned as he landed on top of the museum’s roof. He dropped to a crouch, surveying the space around him.

The Gotham Museum of Natural History was a building made up of pale stone. It had large, rectangular columns racing up the sides to form a grand entrance. The museum was split into four sections: the main part, and then three add-on sections that all intersected at the circular part of the building. While the roof was relatively flat, a massive glass dome rose from the main section with various skylights scattered around the add-ons. It may look cool but, as all the Gotham vigilantes knew, it created many escape routes for various villains to use. Without counting the many, many windows the building boasted.

“Batman and Robin are. Red Robin just finished up with a mugging and Nightwing is heading north. ETA is roughly ten minutes for each.”

Jason shook his head, creeping along the roof. “When did the break-in happen?”

Oracle paused, her silence speaking a thousand words. “About thirteen minutes ago.”

“So they’re probably finishing up grabbing whatever it is, already.” Red Hood kept his eyes out for any sign of break in, eyes expertly scanning the terrain around him.

“Assuming they’re as fast as Catwoman? Yes.”

Jason’s mouth opened to respond when movement through one of the northern add-on’s skylight caught his attention. The Hood hurried his way over, making sure to keep out of sight. As he got closer, static filled his ears. The noise was loud and startled the black-haired vigilante enough for him to quietly curse as he quickly moved to turn off the horrendous noise blasting through the casing covering his skull. Definitely a localized EMP, he thought as he settled next to the skylight to watch the thief.

While Jason typically had decent sight, through the glass he could only describe the person as whispy, almost like the window prevented him from having a clear view. He could barely make out a pitch-black cloak covering the person’s back as they lifted an object from its display pedestal.

Knowing time was running out and not wanting to let this new thief get away, Hood unlatched the skylight with a trick Batman taught him years ago - back when he was still learning the ropes of being Robin. Hooking his grapple claw onto the skylight’s edge, the ex-crime lord silently lowered himself down the large drop as quietly as he could. Even though there was next to no sound of the grapple’s mechanics and his landing was as quiet as an assassin’s, the thief’s head whipped around. Startled, glowing neon eyes met Hood’s through his helmet. Fear gripped Jason’s heart as unblinking Lazarus pools bore into his very soul.

I should’ve waited, Jason thought hysterically as the vigilante and thief stared at each other.

(((ꏿwꏿ;)))

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