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poke-me-with-a-stick · 8 months

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Chapter 30 of 'Artificial Wingman!'

For the full story on Ao3, click here!

Enjoy!

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Soldering the last wire in place, Danny wipes the imaginary sweat from his brow as he sets his tool down, the plasmic blade retreating onto the metal. Slowly, the haze that always seemed to invelope him during repetitive actions lifted, leaving the teen to blink as he took in the space around him.

Part of him was slightly surprised for a second when he found himself not in one of his familiar work spaces, like his bedroom or the ops center, but that part of him was placated quickly as he identified the aparmtment around him. Outside the apartment window, the clouded sky was still in the dark of early morning. Meaning that Danny had been sitting there for a while.

He remembered Jason leaving, and Jazz heading to bed not long after. He and Robin had stayed up, just relaxing on an actually clean couch and watching movies, but eventually Robin had nudged him along to bed as well. Only, after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, Danny had found himself wide awake.

It was around one in the morning that the teen had given up on sleep, using his more ghostly side to slip undetected past the bedrooms and into the living room. His only distraction sat on the coffee table, untouched from the time it had been set there.

He knew that he had lost himself in his work for an hour at the least, and probably four or five at the most. From the slight stiffness in his lower back and the cramp in his knee, the teen would hazard a guess of three hours.

Shaking the tension from his body, Danny flipped the plastic piece of the casing over, pressing the red power button before clicking the casing back into place. He couldnt' helt to hold his breath as his finger's glazed over the outer switch, a hesitance stalling his movements before he pushed past it. Before he could chicken out, he closed his eyes and pressed upwards on the repourposed light switch.

Almost immediately a hum filled the air, the metal and plastic heating slightly in his hands as electricity flowed through its messy insides. When it didn't explode in his fookishly unprotected face, Danny allowed himself to release the breath his was holding. His curiosity grew the longer he listened to the steady humming, prompting him to Crack his eyes open, just a smidge, to catch a glimpse.

Opening his eyes fully, the teen straightened from his slightly fetal position, unfurling his legs and pushing his spin against the back of the well-loved couch he sat on. The gun was glowing, just as it was supposed to, with it's bright neon green engraved trails. A faint green glow slowly swirled through the glass walls of the storage vials, the ecto filtration up and running, working hard to replenish the gun's stores.

It would only be a few hours before those cartridges were filled up enough to make a tear in the fabric of the veil that separated the living world from the dead, but just a tear wouldn't be enough. The vials would have to be at least half way full to open the portal home. Ripping a hole through the fabric of one dimension straight into the other, completely bypassing the middle ground, would take a lot more ectoplasm than just opening a passage to the realm itself.

Flipping the switch back off, Danny listened carefully as the humming sound died down to just a low whirring noise. Satisfied, he grabbed one of his tools and channeled his energy into it, not even observing the Philips head screwdriver tip that manifested before he got to work reassembling the casing, more that just popping the plastic casing into place. Once it was finished and looking like it was fresh from his parent's lab, the teen slipped it carefully back into the bag.

Zipping it closed, Danny's lips pinched into a firm pout, a conflicted expression covering his face in a perfect replication of his inner turmoil.

On the one hand, the completion of the gun brought with it not only that content, fuzzy feeling of accomplishment, but also the hope of finally going home. He had been ignoring it up until this point, but Danny really did miss home. His room, his house, his friends, his stars‐‐

But on the other hand, the thought of leaving, and maybe never seeing Robin again made his core burn. A very uncomfortable feeling for an ice core. There is no reason to put off trying the antidote, no reason to linger here after it work its magic. Pun fully intended.

Part of him was hopeful, whispering of the possibility that the potion wouldn't work. Or if it did, that Robin would ask him to stay. Or, if he didn't ask for Danny to saty, then maybe he would request that the teen visit occasionally.

As much as Danny wished that he could rely on his hope, he knew it was a fools errand. He had already acknowledged his crush on the teen vigilante, but acting on it with no garuntee that the other teen's feelings were real...

Danny shook his head, disregarding his thoughts. There was no use thinking on it now. He was pulled fully out of his spiraling by the sound of the window behind him sliding open.

Turning around, Danny's eyes came to rest on Jason, decked out in his vigilante gear, pushing himself through the opening that should have been too small for him. The man moved so quietly for someone of his stature. Of not for Danny's enhanced senses, he would have had no idea the man had come in at all.

It seems that Jaspn wasn't expecting him either, because when the man turned, he tripped, hitting his knee on the corner of the table with a decent thud. Muffled cursing followed as he rubbed at the sore spot, likely already developing a good sized bruise.

"Fucking hell, kid! What are you doing, just sitting in the dark like that! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!?" Jason cursed vehemently, struggling with his helmet for a moment before it slid off. Setting it down, he turned and settled a glare on the teen.

Danny laughed a bit nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he met Jason's glare with an aapologetic look of his own. "S-sorry," he stammers.stampers. "I, uh. I couldn't sleep."

Jason sighs, kneeling down to undo his boots before addressing Danny again. "You're fine, kid. Just, turn on a light next time, yeah? It's unnerving to enter a room and see glowing eyes peering at you from the dark like some Lovcraftian horror."

Danny didn't bother with abverbal response, instead flashing a cheeky fanged smile at the man, letting ectoplasmic shine leak into his eyes ever so slightly, just enough for them to flash green for a second. Jason froze for a moment at the unnataural desplay, before shaking hismelf out of his brief stupor. Shooting Danny an indecipherable look, he stalks into the kitchen without another word.

Danny stands, following him as he goes about ruffling through the cabinets and fridge. Pulling out eggs, flour, milk, sliced fruits and berries, butter, and everything else. The teen couldn't help but to tilt his head, curious as he watched the man Crack a few shells, dumping the contents into the bowl before adding in the dry ingredients and mixing with milk.

An hour later, with dull gray sunlight trickling through the window, Damian wanders in. His hair is slightly disheveled and pajamas rumpled, but his sunglasses in place, he pauses and takes in the scene before him.

Danny, who had at some point joined Jason in the kitchen, was shaking the blender from side to side as he swayed erratically to some pop song he had heard Brown blasting once. Behind him, Jason was subconsciously bobbing his head along to the beat as well, too consumed in flipping pancakes and measuring the fruit he dropped into the batter.

Damian decided not to comment on any of it, instead settling down on a bar stool and watching, taking in the mouthwatering smells of Todd's cooking. It wasn't long before the teen found hismelf joined by a sleep rumpled Jasmine, who took in the scene before her with wide eyes.

The pop song gradually switched to something slower, one of those cheesy love songs that Richard enjoyed listening to, before Todd reached over and switched it off. "Go sit down, kid." He told Danny, flipping the last perfectly golden pancake onto a plate and adding just a touch of powdered sugar over the fruit-infused flatbread.

Danny scrunched his face in distaste at the endearment, but said nothing as he turned the blender off and walked around the counter to settle on the stool next to Damian. Once he was settled, Damian reached over and pressed his arm lightly into the other teen's, their shoulders rubbing together. "Good morning," he greeted before pulling away, giving Danny his personal space back.

"Oh! Good morning, Robin!" Danny's cheerful smile was much too bright for so early in the morning, but Damian reveled in his metaphorically seared retinas.

"Good morning, Danny." Jasmine reached over, ruffling the teen's naturally messy black hair. He squeaked in faux outrage, making a poor attempt at ducking away from his sister's hand, before playfully shoving her arm away.

" 'Morning, Jazz," he grunted, his tone slightly more annoyed than it had been durning Damian's greeting. That shouldn't have warmed his chest the way it did.

His sister laughed at his faux hostility, giving his hair one last ruffle before turning to Todd. "Good morning, Jason." She greeted him, her voice softening in an odd way. Damian couldn't help but notice the look Danny shot his sister, a mixture of contemplative and suspicious.

"Good mornin', Jazz." Todd's voice softened in a similar fashion to Jasmine's. The teen across from Damian shot the same suspicious look at the man.

Thankfully, communication between the two stopped there, as they became too focused on their breakfast to continue ogling each other. Damian himself tore his attention away from the others, looking down at the plate of food that Todd had set down in front of him.

They all ate their meals in companionable silence, the only sound in the room that of chewing, and forks scraping along ceramic plates as they finished. That silence continued as Danny stood, collecting the plates and setting to work cleaning them.

The silence was only broken as Jason let out a loud sigh, patting his knee as he stood. "Well, if you all don't mind, I'm going to so catch up on my sleep."

"Alright," Jasmine nodded to him, setting her empty cup on the counter as she grabbed a pitcher from the fridge. "Sleep well, Jason!" She called after him.

"Wake me up if there's an emergency! And try not to get the police called!" He calls out behind him, not bothering to wait for a response before shutting the bedroom door behind him. Rolling his eyes, Damian stood from the table, pushing his chair in and wandering into the kitchen.

Letting his arm brush against Danny's, the teen peered over the halfa's shoulder. "Do you need help with those?" He offered, leaning over the slightly shorter boy.

Danny hummed, thinking on it for a minute, before nodding. "Yeah, sure." He smiled, scootching over to make space at his side. Damian slips into place, taking over rinsing the sudsy cutlery and placing them in the drying rack. With the additional help, it wasn't long before the sink was empty, all evidence of their quiant breakfast gone.

"Hey, you two done yet?" Jazz called from the living room, already lounging in her chosen spot, an armchair situated in the corner, facing the room in a way that let the person seated there see the whole room. It was obviously Todd's favored spot, considering the books resting on the side table, just shy of the automan, which held the woman's legs aloft.

"We're done!" Danny answered her, walking around to flop down dramatically on the couch. Damain followed suit, though he sat down more gracefully than his beloved. "Sooo~" the teen drew out the word. "What can we do that won't get the police called on us?"

His sister hummed, resting her chin in her palm as she considered his question. "Well, most board games are off the table, our family is way too competitive." Both her and Danny shuddered, as if reliving a previous memory. If their family was anything like Damian's, then the teen could tell where they were coming from. "And video ges are out for the same reason. So, maybe we could watch a movie?"

Danny shrugged, letting his head roll to face Damian. "What do you think?" He asked.

Damian blinked, warmed by the teen's consideration. "A movie sounds... adequate, I suppose." He agreed, grabbing the remote from the table and handing it to Danny. "Though I do request the we leave any romances out. Those are something Todd and the girls enjoy."

Danny took the remote, shooting him finger guns. "No cheesy romance movies, got it!" His eyes fix on the TV as he speaks, the teen completely missing the way his sister face palmed at the, admittedly, adorable gesture. "Aha!" He exclaims after a second, grinning madly as he clicks on a thumbnail. "This looks cool!"

As much as Danny held his heart, Damain wanted to strangle him in that moment. Instead, he merely scowled and settled back against the cushions as Danny clicked play on a children's movie adaptation of his father's and Richard's earlier adventures through Gotham.

After the intro credits, Damain feels a weight on his shoulder. Glancing down, he is met with a face full of black hair. Letting himself relax a bit, Damian couldn't help but to admit to himself that maybe this movie would be bearable, so long as the halfa kept such close contact.

- - -

Dick can't help but to groan in horror at the fabric that Stephanie had placed in his hands. Her guilty, kicked puppy expression made any anger he may have felt melt away.

"I am so, so, so sorry about your costume," the girl blubbers, her apologies rambling on as he continues to stare, wordlessly, at what used to be his vigilante suit. The outfit was practically unrecognizable, black base stained with gray and pink splotches, the bird on the chest purple instead to wash.

But the worst thing wasn't the stains that marred his suit. No, the worst thing was the fact that it was four times smaller than what it had been when he gave it to Steph to wash. That's right, his pseudo sister had somehow managed to shrink his suit, along side her accidental vandlilization.

Finally pulling his eyes away from the unrecognizable nightwing suit, Dick met his pseudo sister's eyes. "I'm not mad at you," he tried to reassure her, "it's obviously an accident. But why didn't you just give it to Alfred to wash?"

Steph diverted her gaze to the floor, head bowed in shame. "Alfie was busy, and I didn't want that disappointed look he gives when one of us messes up." Her words were muffled slightly by her lavender sweater, but audible all the same. "Besides, I wash mine all the time! I was sure I knew how to do it!" Her voice choked put slightly, her shoulders shaking as she continued to glare holes into the concrete floor.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Dick hurriedly put his hand on her shoulder, trying to rub comforting circles into it. "It's okay! I have more suits, somewhere! No need to cry!"

Was he a bit panicked at his sister's excessive emotional reaction? Yes, yes he was. But who could blame him? Steph was one of the most emotionally available people, not being an official Wayne and having her own home to return to probably helped her in that regard, but still! As a big brother, family relations or not, it was his job to comfort. And the woman in front of him did not look comforted.

Unbeknownst to the man, the girl was not actually crying, instead starting at the floor as she tried not to blow her cover by laughing at the deer in headlights expression he had on his face.

When her shoulders finally stilled, Dick gave her one last pat before pulling away again. Taking another look at his ruined suit, he sighed. "I appreciate that you tried to help, wether it worked put or not. But maybe we should leave doing the laundry to the rest of the family, yeah?" Dick smiled as Steph wiped her face with her sleeve, finally bringing her gaze back up to his. His own expression stuttered slightly at the determination on her face.

"You might be right there," she admitted sheepishly, her voice cracking slightly. Clearing her throat, she seemed to think about something for a minute. "But that doesn't mean that there aren't other things I can do to make it up to you!" She shot him a hard smile of her own before turning and dashing to the elevator.

Dread builds in his gut as he tries to call after her. "Steph, wait! You don't have to make it up to me!" He tries to run after her, only to slip on something.

Looking down, he's met with his costume, which he had, at some point dropped, tangled around his feet. Cursing under his breath, the man desperatly tries to untangle himself, cursing even more as he comes free only to watch as Steph's feet dissappear above him.

Dropping his head, Dick groans. He is sure that, whatever Steph comes up with, it's gonna be chaos. And once she gets an idea into her head, it's nearly impossible to talk her out of it. The best he can do is hope that, whatever she's planning on doing, Alfred will put a stop to it if she goes too far.

Taking another look at his suit, Dick can't help but to thank the paranoia that Batman had instilled in almost every Robin. That paranoia assures him that he has more suits around here somewhere, so the loss of one isn't a big loss.

Standing, Dick debates for a minute, before deciding to look for one of his spare suits instead of going after Steph. Surley she couldn't cause too much chaos in the hour or so it would take him to dig out one of his spares?

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(I know there are probably some grammar and/or spelling mistakes, but it's okay because I tried my best!)

For the amazing person who made the prompt for this story, and the lovely people who follow along!

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#dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #batman x danny phantom #dead serious #danny phantom x batfam #danny phantom x damian wayne #love potion #miscommunication #fic on ao3 #Artifical Wingman #long post

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