#Danny dies while he gets vivisected by his parents | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elizabethemerald · 1 year

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DP/DC Week 2022: Mistaken Identity

AO3

Danny was tired. That wasn’t really anything new, but it still felt like just one burden too many. Danny was homeless. Danny was on the run from his parents and the GIW. Danny was desperately trying to heal from when his parents vivisected him. And on top of all that he was tired.

He hadn’t been able to really get consistent sleep since the accident. Late night ghost attacks were far too common in Amity Park for him to really get the sleep he needed. He thought for sure now that he was away from his home he would sleep better. Except Gotham was in many ways worse. There were explosions, gunshots and Rogue attacks at all hours of the night. There were the constant nightmares of feeling his parent’s hands inside his…

At least there weren’t any ghosts.

Except…

There were.

Quite a few ghosts followed him from Amity to Gotham. Cujo, of course, had tailed along, because Danny could only barely get the ghost dog to obey his orders at the best of times and they were still working on “Stay.” Ember had dropped by to check on him. “Just to make sure her ‘Babypop’ was Ok.” Even Clockwork, Fright Knight and a few of the Observants had dropped by to ensure the Ghost King was recovering a pace. For some reason, Boxy had followed him to Gotham, because “Where Phantom goes, boxes follow.” Danny couldn’t even begin to parse out that statement.

As if the Amity ghosts following Danny when he explicitly said he wanted to remain hidden wasn’t bad enough, apparently having the Ghost King in Gotham gave the local ghosts enough juice to cause even more problems if they wanted to. And Gotham had a lot of ghosts. A lot of people died with their emotions high, with things in their life left undone, or with a grudge to bear in this city.

Ghost attacks in Gotham suddenly went from zero to an all time high. If Danny didn’t get a handle on the situation soon Gotham’s daily ghost attack numbers would beat even peak Amity numbers. Danny couldn’t even do anything against the hordes of ghosts while he was healing. He had to simply watch over the city as his people caused problems for the living. Danny had even seen the Joker getting chased down the street by numerous Jokerized ghosts looking to tear him apart. He couldn’t have intervened even if he wanted to, not that he really wanted to get between the Clown, his numerous victims and their well deserved revenge.

With Danny still out of commission, while the scars on his chest healed and his organs finished regenerating, the ghosts of Gotham were left to the vigilantes of Gotham. The Bats were woefully unprepared for a sudden incursion of ghosts. Fortunately, Gotham itself, whatever ancient spirit of the city gave Gotham its perpetual gloomy and melancholy vibe, seemed to like the Flying-Fury-Brigade and the bats were safe from overshadowing and could disperse ghosts for a short time with their attacks. However, dispersing the ghosts for a few hours did nothing to stop the overwhelming number of ghosts currently in the city, and Danny knew the Spirit of Gotham wouldn’t be able to maintain that protection indefinitely without rest or assistance.

At least Danny had managed to find an abandoned Warehouse, far enough from the main centers of crime, where he felt he could actually rest for a few hours. He needed to rest. He was so tired and his body couldn’t repair itself, even with the ambient ectoplasm that now filled Gotham’s streets without rest. Except, apparently even this far off corner of the city couldn’t go undisturbed.

Just as Danny had managed to curl up under a stolen blanket in a corner office his rest was disturbed again by the sounds of crashes and thumps. Only, this time they were coming from far closer. Danny groaned as he dragged himself to his feet, his blanket, which was more hole than fabric at this point, wrapped around his shoulders like a cape.

Ancients, he hoped it wasn’t Box Ghost, even as he walked past stack after stack of long abandoned boxes and crates that filled this warehouse.

If his heart hadn’t already stopped long ago when he first stepped into the portal it would have stopped now. There standing in the warehouse he had chosen to hide in, was a large, broad shouldered man, with dark hair and a bright, orange, jumpsuit. Jack Fenton had found him.

* * *

Bruce was tired. That wasn’t really anything new, but this was almost to a whole new level. On top of running a multinational corporation, assisting with JLA missions, and protecting Gotham from his regular Rogues gallery, his city had some become infested with ghosts. Which were apparently real. And a real problem.

He had tried to reach out to Justice League Dark, but Constantine had taken one look around the streets of Gotham, declared them all “properly fucked,” then opened a portal to somewhere that stank of sulfur and promptly disappeared. Batman had taken a single moment to allow himself a long, world-weary sigh, before he got back to work.

If he wasn’t going to be able to get magical help with their problem, maybe technology would do. Barbara and Tim had spent hours trawling the internet, cracking bizarre morphing firewalls and verifying ludicrous claims before eventually finding the Fentonworks website. Barbara had sounded like she wanted to pull her hair out when she described the archaic design for the site, but the Doctor’s Fenton seemed to have weapons and tools that could be used to counter the ghostly threat.

For some reason, that none of Bats could determine, they were kept safe from the Ghosts that now inhabited Gotham. They had all felt the ghosts try to enter their bodies, yet they had all felt the ghosts get repelled by some unknown force. They had personally seen that no one else in Gotham seemed to share that same immunity, cops, goons, civilians and rogues alike had all been possessed and controlled by the ghosts, yet Batman and his family were safe.

That sort of unexplainable defense would never sit well with Batman. He needed something tangible, something he could see, touch and modify himself before he was happy. So when Oracle and Red Robin had managed to find Fentonworks he was all but ready to jump on the opportunity even if they turned out to be a hoax. Just as Wayne Tech had subsidized gas masks to counter Joker Gas and Fear Toxin, he would buy up the Fenton’s entire supply to keep his citizens safe.

Oracle digging deeper into the Fenton files stayed his hand. The Fentons apparently had a considerable amount of data and research on the Ghosts. Except even a cursory glance at their papers showed them to be wildly biased against what they termed “ecto-entities.” Even in their brief experience with ghosts each of the Bats could clearly see that they were thinking and feeling beings. They had some small success with talking ghosts down from attacks on civilians that showed them to be capable of rational thought and empathy.

Batman decided that the only safe option was to acquire some of the Fentonworks products secretly and see if they could be reconstructed by Wayne Tech. So Oracle had purchased a small number of items, a jumpsuit, the Fenton Peeler and a thermos? Robin had much to say about the inanity of their naming conventions and product designs. The order was shipped through a number of shell companies and across the country to ensure no one knew that Bruce Wayne was interested in Ghost hunting equipment.

The shipment had finally arrived, after a few delays and a few extra reroutes to throw off any trackers, in a warehouse far away from the crime centers of the city. Bruce would be able to sort through the supplies in safety, before handing them off to Tim to try and take apart or modify.

He found the protective jumpsuit to be too tight to be able to wear over his armor as Batman, so he shed the outer layers in order to wear the orange hazmat suit. The color really was horrifically bright. He couldn’t imagine any of his rogues, or any of his children for that matter seeing him something so bright. He was just about to reach for the Peeler when he heard a sharp breath from behind him.

Batman whirled, reaching automatically for a utility belt that wasn’t there, to find a child behind him. The boy couldn’t be older than Tim, maybe 16 at most, with dark hair and blue eyes. Eyes that were wide with panic and fear. If he had been wearing his cowl he could understand why the child seemed to be so afraid of him, but he was merely wearing the orange jumpsuit.

The boy immediately started sobbing, terrified tears rushing down his face, as he stumbled backwards, tripping over a ratty blanket as he went. He fell hard and Batman swore he heard something pop over the sound of the boy’s tears. He took a step forward in concern and the boy immediately threw himself further back, cowering with his arms crossed over his head to ward off any blows.

“Please dad! It’s me. It’s Danny! Please, I’m alive, Dad, I’m alive.” Bruce was thrown by the boy, no, Danny’s words. “Dad, please don’t hurt me, I’m alive, I’m Danny, please dad, please.”

Bruce reached for him, but Danny cringed away from his hand. In that moment he could see Danny squinting at him past tear-filled and tired eyes. His terrified eyes were only focusing on the orange of the suit. Bruce leaned back and zipped the suit down and pulled it off his shoulders as fast as he could.

“Danny, I’m not going to hurt you.” Bruce called softly, trying to keep his voice calm and comforting like he had used with his own sons. “You’re safe, Danny. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Danny looked up at him, past his own tears.

“You promise? Dad, you promise?”

“Of course, Danny. I promise. You’re safe.”

Suddenly, Bruce’s arms were full of sobbing teenager as the boy flung himself at him. Bruce immediately held him tightly, one hand going to his hair as he held Danny tight to his chest. He could only barely contain his own grief at the fear Danny had been experiencing.

After several minutes of crying Danny started to pull back away from him.

“Dad, I was so scared, I-” He wiped his eyes as he looked at Bruce. Then wiped them again. Then his eyes widened in renewed fear that Bruce hurried to try and alleviate.

“I’m sorry, I’m not your father.” Bruce kept his voice gentle. “But I meant my promise. You’re safe, Danny. I’ll protect you.”

Danny started to shy away, but winced and a hand went to his chest. Bruce’s eyes widened as blood spots appeared on his shirt. Bruce grabbed him immediately and held him close as he stood.

“We need to get you to a hos-”

“No hospitals.” Danny whispered. “They’ll kill me if they find me.”

Bruce ground his teeth. This child who was injured, clearly exhausted and scared out of his mind was afraid to go to a hospital. He nodded then pulled his cowl over his head one handed as he carried Danny to the Batmobile. The Batcave was the best place for Danny to get medical care and the Batmobile was the fastest way to get there.

“Oracle, I have an injured child.” Batman growled into his coms as he buckled Danny into the passenger seat. “Clear a route to the Cave and inform Agent A and Dr. T that they have a patient incoming.”

“Understood Batman.” Oracle’s voice came through his ear piece.

Batman studiously ignored his other children asking if he was bringing them another sibling. Just because he was already filling out the mental adoption papers for the traumatized teen, didn’t mean he had to dignify them with a response. In the passenger seat, Danny eventually gave into the exhaustion from the day and fell asleep as the Batmobile roared toward the Batcave, and his future home.

TAGS: @starkcravingmad, @blacksea21090, @rainybyday

#Danny Phantom #batman #dp x dc #dp/dc week 2022 #mistaken identity #let me know what you think #and please reblog!

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phantomposting · 1 year

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Another half asleep twins au rant/prompt! Please excuse any spelling or grammar errors I have not slept in a hot minute.

Trigger Warning ⚠️: Ghost Hunger, Dissection/vivisection, starvation

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So this is a Ghost Hunger Damian and Danny are twins au. I was reminded about ghost hunger the other day and boy did it give me the spark of creativity I needed to create yet another au/fic idea to hyperfixate on.

So in this au Damian and Danny were very close as siblings but Danny ended up dying throwing himself in harms way to protect Damian on a mission for the league. Damian blames himself for not having better reflexes/not paying enough attention and could never convince his grandfather to allow Danyal to be resurrected via the pit.

Talia saw how desperate her son was for the other to live though and also cared for Danyal so she risked it all to revive him secretly and hide him amongst the civilians in America. Damian sadly never got to learn about that fact tho and lived years with the guilt he felt which left him determined to never let that happen again. Which meant he could never let anyone get close enough to want to do such a thing for him and he needed to hone his skills.

Danny on the other hand has hazy memories of his brother while with the Fentons and goes through the same timeline of becoming Phantom and protecting Amity Park. Eventually tho his parents find out and that gets him strapped to a table in the basement begging for his half life/getting vivisected.

So Danny flees going on the run and ends up on the streets of Gotham. The spirit of Gotham is so excited and welcoming to her newest child. He is a protector and her king after all. It fills her with pride that she would get to care for such an important person. She does all she can to make sure the king stays safe. Little things to keep him hidden and protected.

Danny however has unintentionally been keeping a pretty big secret from the ghosts of the realm. He doesn't really know this though and thinks its just a ghost thing. Basically his core is slightly corrupted due to the years he spent around the Lazarus pits aswell as the revival vial the dip in it's corrupt ectoplasm. As a result he experiences ghost hunger which was pretty easy to manage when he lived with the Fenton's. He would normally satiate his hunger via eating pure ectoplasm from the lab but now he has no access to that which leads him to starving himself.

This starvation mixed with his human side starving aswell is very very hard on his body as a result he begins to black out sometimes when he wakes up he usually tastes ectoplasm but just assumes its his own due to his injuries from his parents. These injuries are weirdly taking way longer to heal which is due to ghosts being very mental/emotional state based.

Gotham soon realizes she has a big problem on her hands. It turns out the king's core is corrupted and as a result many of her ghostly children are going missing. She is deeply upset and calls out for help to assist the king with his corruption or stop him from killing more of her children. She hopes the king gets help rather than getting taken down however. She knows it's not his fault. She knows how protective of her city and her people he is and how kind he can be to them and hopes issues get solved so he may become a protector of her people.

This call for help brings Constantine to Gotham. He doesn't get a whole lot of info from Gotham at first but he knows whatever is going on can be dangerous and is important. He knows that some of the bats are in danger too and gives them a warning that something in Gotham seems to be hunting ghostly beings and those whom have died before are at risk especially Red Hood.

The Bat's don't take too kindly to the supernatural threat and kinda force their way into assisting Constantine whom is already annoyed with the prospect of having to deal with the bats.

So time passes and the bats gets a few encounters of feeling as if they're being hunted. Jason is also the first to discover the new homeless kid in Gotham who looks almost exactly like Damian. It's hard to really see too many similarities at the time tho he's so thin it's deeply worrying and his icy blue eyes greatly contrast Damian's emerald green, but some similarities are far too obvious to miss. Oh great more black hair blue eyed adoption bait. Better keep him far away from Bruce.

The few run ins some of the bat kids have with Danny make them worried about the homeless kid. Dick, Tim, Duke and Jason all get run ins with the kid and tho they want to try and help the kid he always seems to vanish without a trace. It's kinda creepy but they all can recognize just how scared this kid is.

Eventually Bruce and Damian get their run in with the kid. The GiW have finally tracked Danny down and due to the stupid vivisection wounds not healing and the starvation of both forms he can't get the strength he needs to defend himself or make an easy escape. He ends up cornered in an alleyway and getting shot with luckily no major damage. Batman and Robin come across the scene of what appears to be some weird new gang bullying a homeless child and makes quick work of them.

After all is said and done and they look back to help the injured kid Damian ends up shocked to find that this kid is Danyal. At first he pulls his sword on him making threats thinking this is some sick and twisted trick from the league, but then he comes to his senses seeing how broken and defeated Danyal is. He doesn't flinch or shy away from the fate, though he has tears in his deeply tired eyes he doesn't fight back. He doesn't seem to have the energy to. He just sits against the walled dead end that almost got him killed and stares down the katana as if he no longer fears death.

Things get bit emotional as he questions his long dead brother. Danny is honest in answering he doesn't know how he came back nor does he fully remember how he died in the first place. He also dodges some of the questions and keeps the ghost half hidden. He explains to them he's gotten himself into trouble however and people are after him now and he appreciates the help. He keeps as much as he can about ghosts being involved a secret. He has no idea about the Bat's stances on them after all. And he seems to hate metas so probably won't take to kindly to a ghost.

Damian and Danny share info and Bruce discovers he has a son he didn't know about and deeply regrets not being there cause the state this kid is in is pretty dier. He's not sure he can fully trust the kid though. It's clear he's hiding something and that could be a danger to his family and Gotham, but he decides to give him a chance. After all this is his son and he wants to help him no matter what.

Bruce calls in someone to cover the rest of his and Damian's patrol route for the night and has Alfred get Doctor Thompkins to meet them back in the cave for medical assistance. They get Danny back and he starts getting some treatment for his wounds. Alfred and Thompkins are pretty horrified to find the vivisection wounds on the kiddo. They are definetly infected by this point. And much to Danny's dismay he has to use the excuse that he's a meta to explain why he's got such a low temperature and heart rate, why he can't use sedatives, and why stitches and stuff like that won't work.

So treatment is a bit difficult but they do their best with it. Alfred and Thompkins also discuss what needs to be done to get the kid back on track to being healthy. All the while Damian is anxiously waiting to be able to see his brother again. Bruce has never seen Damian show such emotion and care before aside from when he's dealing with animals. It's so jarring. And of course the other bat kids are snooping trying to find out what's going on.

So recovery is slow and bat kids try to connect with their new sibling whenever Damian isn't trying to act as a guard dog/mother hen. Danny ends up the closest with Damian and Jason in the family. Jason can immediately tell something is off with the kid due to the Lazarus water reacting to him and is the first person Danny opens up to about being half ghost (much to Damian's dismay). Jason keeps Danny's secret for him but encourages him subtly to open up to the others cause they'll definetly accept him despite the fact that he's half dead. They bond a lot on their mutual trauma and of course Damian is jealous but also happy Danny is actually talking to someone and getting back on his feet.

Damian still feels immense guilt over the first death Danyal faced and this guilt makes him think of course Danyal would want to avoid him that Danyal blames him too which is totally untrue and eventually gets worked through but not until after theres some conflicts due to jealousy. But that comes later.

One night Jason decides to stay over for Danny's sake and Danny has another black out. Basically his ghost form goes feral and tries to go after Jason. This results in the discovery that Danny was the danger Constantine has been looking for all along and there's a major blow up in the family due to this info. Danny only stops feral mode after eating a blob ghost (poor lil guy) and gets rudely awoken by the batfam accusations of attempted murder.

Danny is finally informed that he's been killing and eating ghosts and is horrified this goes against his whole goal of protecting everyone and keeping the balance and really goes against his protection obsession. It breaks him and Bruce yelling accusations at him doesn't help at all. Kiddo has a major breakdown and goes on the run from his new family thinking he is a danger and that he blew it with them.

Danny faces issues with injury to his core aswell due to what he's done and how that effects his obsession. Basically he's having a real bad time.

Jason whom has connected with the kiddo knows that this ain't Danny and somethings clearly wrong and so does Damian so the two reluctantly band together to locate and help the poor kiddo. With this team up Damian discovers Jason knew Danny was a half ghost and jealousy causes a fight but they manage to keep the team together out of concern for the kiddo.

The the other Bats team up with Constantine to track him down and eliminate the threat. Gotham tries to impede them though cause she knows the route they are on will only bring harm to the ghost king rather than help him. She tries her best to help hood and Robin find him first.

When Jason and Damian discover Danny he's in bad shape. Kiddos absolutely breaking down and very injured his core is definetly injured for sure. They try to offer assistance but Danny isn't thinking straight he's like a wounded animal so if he gets cornered he fights back.

It really doesn't help that the GiW manages to track him down yet again and the boyoa have to deal with both that and a ghostly Danny whom poses a risk of injury to not only them but himself.

With so much going on its no surprise that the GiW actually succeeds in capturing Danny. The two vigilante's end up getting knocked out and left to the wayside.

Eventually the other bats come across them and they explain Danny was captured by the thugs that first attacked him. Constantine recognizes the organization and is deeply frustrated but hey atleast it's not his problem anymore right? Wrong. With the kids explanations he realizes Danny was not actually evil. He's partially alive and he is a protector spirit not a rouge one. He also realizes how bad things are cause a spirit like that committing such acts that he has risks destabilization which would probably kill both the human and ghost half. He's no ghost expert but Gotham's giving him signs she wants him to help the ghost kid and now he's in quite the pickle.

So this leads everyone into panic mode and search and recuse mode. Theres a big rescue mission where they break into the GiW headquarters and fight the GiW to get Danny back. Of course he is having a hard time staying stable and they have to both use whatever magic Constantine can muster to keep him as stable as he can and on the spot therapy time to try and stabilize the poor kiddo.

Eventually they get him stable enough to bring him back home but now he has mandatory therapy sessions with Black Canary. They also have a lot of emotional work ahead of them aswell and physical work trying to get a steady supply of ectoplasm so the kid doesn't starve again.

They have to fight the Fenton's for custody aswell and try and dismantle the GiW and anti ecto acts. Its a long process and they really discover just how bad things were for the kid.

They probably have a visit to frostbite too if they can get a portal and this helps him heal and make sure no more ghost medical problems occur. This also helps the family learn a lot of ghost health is tied to emotional and mental health.

Damian and Danny probably end up getting in a few fights due to Damian's jealousy aswell but eventually work though it and become closer due to it. They are inseparable. And Damian also has to learn to get used to Jason being around and an active older brother figure. Bruce apologizes for his mistreatment of the kiddo too. Their relationship stays a bit rocky for a long while but they definitely make progress.

Theres a lot of emotions and emotional conflict and things are very rocky for awhile but eventually they get to be a functional and loving family dynamic! Danny gets a happy ending in the end it's not a perfect home but he definetly wouldn't want to be anywhere else :D

This is the longest prompt I've written yet I hope you guys enjoy it 💗💗💗

#danny phantom #dp x dc #batman crossover #dp au #damian wayne #danny and damian are twins #writing prompt #jason todd #I'm so sleepy tired and I'm sorry if that effects the prompt in any way #ghost hunger #I was reminded about ghost hunger and my brain went a little crazy bonkers with it #sorry if this one is a bit everywhere just kinda having fun with it #so much drama so much trauma #angst supreme

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luffyrose · 9 months

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Hold for the Prince - DPxDC Fic to Be

As a quick note before this, I was asking my sister for help naming this prompt/fic and before I could even finish speaking she had gone;

"Felix."

With such confidence that I will now have to somehow get the name in this fic at some point XD

ANYWAY, onto the snippet of the fic I promised for today while I get back on track with my writing overall!

~~~ TW; Death, heavily implied gore, and all the fun stuff that comes with vivisecting a teenager! ~~~

It had been going so well.

Sitting nervously at the table, Danny’s hands tightened, hidden from his parent’s worried few. He opened his mouth, it dry and only a choked noise came out before he shut it with an audible click.

“Baby, I know we say you can tell us anything...and...I know we haven’t been the most, no, we haven’t been very present in a while now. Jazz helped us see that recently. I digress, but you don’t need to tell us anything hunny.”

He could almost laugh at the pure love he could hear in her voice. A part of him had been so close, so so close, to giving up on them. Then Jazz finally got through to the two. Finally, they paused in their obsessive work to look back toward them. The Fenton parents’ had finally turned back to look at their children. Those two little kids who’d gotten so much bigger, so much older, as they ran after ghosts. It had been a shock for them both to truly see their children so big and the entire week after they’d ignored multiple ghosts in turn of being there for them.

They’d even begun to listen.

Danny’s shaking eyes slowly rolled sideways, meeting the cold stare of his mothers.

It was just a few words. He could just say it. Just get it over with. Looking down at the hand that slowly gripped his own, he stared at the familiar nail polish of his sister. She’d promised to protect him, even if their parents didn’t agree. He didn’t want her to ever have to make that choice, but the words and gentle rub on his back had sent him to tears the night before.

Raising his hand slowly, shaky, he tried to reach outward. Tears burned his eyes, a horrible feeling of suffocating enveloping his throat as he-

“Dann-o, we’re here for you buddy! You tell us when you’re ready!”

Maddie nodded with a gentle file along with her husband. She’d never wanted to become like her own father, so enveloped in his work he never truly was her father, and maybe it stung just a bit to think that her kids probably felt at least some of what she’d known as a child.

“Just like the ghosts. It was...a lapse in judgment to believe they were all mindless, though I still believe those like the Wisconsin ghost are beyond evil with the idea that they do have true emotions. Truly, what insane-”

A cough from Jazz had their mother falling silent, a slightly sheepish smile on her face as she dropped it, instead looking back fully at Danny.

“Mom...Dad...I’m-”

His hands shook. Even the gentle pressure of his sister’s hands in his didn’t prevent it.

“Do you, remember when I got the portal working?”

Jack tilted his head, a clear sign of confusion from their brilliant yet simple father. However, Maddie’s face paled. It had been a secret that he’d...died...but it was impossible to hide the symptoms it brought. Even if he could barely remember his mother sitting beside his bed with a gentle hand running through his head as the initial aftershocks wore off...

“I didn’t actually- I, um...”

The words just wouldn’t leave his throat, the choked feeling coming back tenfold from earlier. It seemed as though the meaning began to come across however, both of their parents were much more somber and worried as they glanced at one another. Looking quickly away, he could feel the temperature drop, the way his fingertips were coated with frost. Quickly letting go of Jazz’s hand, he clenched his hands together between his legs. Whether this went well or bad, he refused to let his lack of control over his own emotions harm his sister.

“It may have...um, killed me...”

Now the cold of the room wasn’t from his own ice, but the silence. His voice was weak, terrified sounding he knew, but he quickly fought the wavering of his voice and continued.

“The electricity and ectoplasm both killed me and saved me, and I was really really lucky to not just die or become a full ghost or-” his breath caught, stuttering as his panic took over “-I became what they call a Halfa, half human half ghost and then things just all happened and you all were-”

A hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to tense, closing his eyes tightly.

“Danny...I’m so so sorry.”

Snapping his eyes upward he found tears. Both his parents were crying. Shakily reaching up toward their face, his mom’s other hand gently took his own.

“We never- oh my god, Danny- we never even knew, never noticed...I’m so so sorry, how could you ever stay when-”

Her voice was wet with emotion, arms quickly wrapping around him, much larger ones joining quickly as well. All tension left him as he felt his own chest shake from a sob. Surprised at his own crying, he let his parents hug him, let their warmth, regret, and sorrow just envelop him. It was so much to feel it all at once, but everything felt so real. His fears were unfounded, his pain recognized...his anger rewarded. Danny felt almost wrong to find some joy in their sorrow, but it was easily overpowered by his own grief.

Things would get better.

-tried to reach for his mother. Her body slumped in a pool of her own blood. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t cry...he couldn’t even scream.

Things had been going so well.

His parents had accepted him and had worked with him and the ghosts. They had listened and they had changed. For once he could relax. Yet things didn’t stay peaceful. The Observants nagged at him to come to the zone, to do what very few things he was required as the Prince of Ghosts. It was only a week in the zone. Just one.

He never would have left if he’d known what would have happened...never would have asked Jazz to come home a few days after he returned.

White hair stuck wet from his own blood, tears, and vomit to his own head. Eyes and arms still desperately aimed toward his mother, he didn’t dare to look toward her hand...toward the one laying loose within it. Danny couldn’t look at both of them, not when he was the reason they were now dead.

The GIW had learned of him.

It was the day he was planning to return, happily parting with the ghosts who’d agreed to leave the town alone for a few weeks so the family could mend. Stepping through the portal he’d been met with so many white suits he’d nearly missed his tied-up parents behind them all. Shaky eyes met his mother’s own.

“Danny run-!”

The words were lost on the boy as something struck him, electricity soaring through his feigns as a scream involuntarily left his throat.

He’d woken later to so much pain. The scientist were nothing like the agents. They didn’t fear getting dirty with his blood, didn’t panic at even the slightest gore as they tore him apart from the inside out. Didn’t’ blink as they simply slit his throat to stop his screams of pain and fear. How they simply decided that once enough pain was dealt with physically, they would continue to experiment while causing emotional pain.

Silent sobs escaped his trembling body, the hands that had been present within his open chest for what he was sure was at least the past few months finally nearing his core.

His parents had been locked away so near yet so far from him, being used to cause him pain. They’d finally decided to see what death would cause. The pure sorrow and distress his core reverberated finally gave them more of an area to search. Danny couldn’t even care about the nearing hands, trying so desperately for any strength to reach his parents. He wanted to be with them. Even if it meant dying, he didn’t want to be alone.

“...If this is the react ...... would it’s ‘friends’ or ..... Fenton girl cause .... solid read?...”

In an instant, his mind became clear, time feeling so slow as everything just changed. The air was cold, and he no longer felt himself shaking, not even his eyes despite the blurriness of his tears still present. It took him far too long to realize he was no longer on the table, far longer to realize he wasn’t actually in control. His mind pulled in on itself, begging him to fall into the much more comforting darkness than the harsh reality around him.

“G̷̡̡͇͆͋R̷͇̻̹͒̓͌A̷̭͋Ḁ̷̰̈́̈̍A̶̯͂̽G̸͇̜̚ͅḢ̶̡͠ͅ”

The loud echoey roar almost pulled him right back from the void he was falling into, and yet he only felt a harsher tug, slipping fully away.

A bright symbol appeared hastily on every available screen within the large meeting room. Silence enveloped it as the shape changed into a video, no noise coming through yet, but clear ongoing destruction present just outside a small town. Nobody spoke while waiting for the audio to come through, yet nobody had been ready for it either.

“G̷̡̡͇͆͋A̷̭͋Ḁ̷̰̈́̈̍R̷͇̻̹͒̓͌A̷̭͋Ḣ̶̡͠ͅ”

The deafening sound had many covering their ears, horrified by it. As the roar ended, a single voice spoke, shaking in what everybody could tell was dawning horror. The words only sparked distress in many.

“Bloody hell, it’s crying-”

~~~

I know that there's not really much DC present in this yet- BUT IT'S THERE! You could call this the prologue to the fic that it will one day become >:3c

As always I love hearing people thoughts or ideas so if you even just wanna say something small please do :D

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #ghost king danny #jazz fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jasmine fenton #dp #fenton family #I am remembering how much I hate trying to make sure I got the tags I need on these-#Local British man makes a semi-appearance #he was at the meeting for once and is horrified by the crying eldritch horror #especially because he can HEAR the sorrow and pain through a video

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prfctparis · 5 months

Text

I’d Give You My Lungs So You Could Breathe (I’ve Got You, Brother) CH4

AO3 Link / One / Prev / Next / Masterlist

summary:

Danny Fenton was adopted at age ten, with little to no memories about his former family. At age fourteen, he died yet lived and those memories began to return. He didn’t do anything about those memories – didn’t plan to, at least not yet – but then he got captured by the GIW, saved by his friends and someone who might be his sister who he only somewhat remembered, and taken to Gotham to, apparently, his biological father for safety until further notice.

Team Phantom was there, too, and they did not sign up for this family drama.

a/n:

i am so sorry for such the long wait!! but here’s ch4 finally lmao hope you guys enjoy :)

warnings for entire fic:

canon-typical violence of the DC variety; angst; memory loss/repressed memories; do i need to say major character death(s) or is that just a given for this fandom; questionable parenting tho every parent is trying to do good & care for the kids; implied/referenced past child abuse bc of the child assassin backgrounds; pls tell me if i missed something

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: Alfred tells Bruce of Danny’s injuries, but nothing in explicit detail

CHAPTER FOUR —

Tonight did not go the way Bruce thought it would.

The day started out peaceful enough. For his family, that was. Tim had stayed the night after patrol rather than heading back to his place in the city, so he and Damian, both half asleep still, had gotten into a snarky quarrel about cereal bowls, of all things. Apparently there was favorite bowl; it was the perfect size and depth. Damian woke up first, grabbed it, and Tim became grouchy when he discovered that.

Bruce had then taken the bowl away when they wouldn’t stop arguing about it, handed it to Duke who had entered the kitchen at that exact moment, and continued on to get a plate of French toast that Alfred had made and a large mug of coffee. He dutifully ignored his sons’ complaints while his other son just went along with what had just happened.

Then Alfred took Duke and Damian to school, Stephanie appeared out of nowhere to drag Tim into helping her study for college finals that were coming up, and Cass regularly sent him pictures of Hong Kong as a means to let him know every thing was going smoothly for the case that had lead her back over there. Bruce called Dick during his lunch hour at WE, tried to get out of an afternoon meeting only for Lucious and Tim (who was now only a partial shareholder instead of the majority shareholder, since that went back to Bruce) to drag him to it anyway, and told Jason that he might have found something to aid him in one of his cases through e-mail because, once again, Jason had blocked his number.

Bruce had no idea what warranted it this time, and he was hesitant to ask.

All in all, it was a normal day. He might even describe it as a good day. So, of course, he expected patrol to be hell. Maybe a breakout of some sort; an intense hostage situation; one of his children getting majorly injured again; a near death experience or two. Possibly more than one of those, or even all of them. That was what Bruce Wayne – Batman – expected.

Not this.

Not Damian having two secret, older, biological siblings.

Not a group of kids in their late teens obviously on the run, brave faced but scared.

Not a daughter finding him on a random roof on the verge of a panic attack, brave façade crumbling with the fear her brothers weren’t okay.

Not a son no older than eighteen having been vivisected by someone Bruce has yet to find out, and warranting Alfred to perform emergency surgery on him.

After Damian, Bruce swore he was done. No more kids for him; the children and pseudo-children he had were enough. The amount of love he had for them was immeasurable, and with them – because of them – Bruce had a mountain of happiness in his life among all the other shitty and dark valleys of depression and torment.

Now he’s learned Talia had lied yet again.

First, about having a miscarriage back when she had been pregnant with Damian. Second, about how before that, from their first meeting five years prior, she already had twins.

His twins.

Damian had also lied, yet he had been told to do so and promised to by his older sister herself. And he had no idea why.

It occurred to him, then, that Jason knew as well. He recognized Damian’s sister on the roof.

It hurt to know that they knew yet didn’t tell him. Everything about the current situation hurt, if he was to be honest.

“My name is Athanasia al Ghul,” Bruce’s daughter, introduced herself as he helped clean, re-bandage, and stitch her injuries. “My twin– our brother… He was born Dányál al Ghul, but he got adopted when he was ten. Legally, his name is now Daniel Fenton. He goes by Danny most of the time.”

It was surreal. Bruce had to keep himself from questioning her until he got answers – about her, Danny, why Talia never mentioned either of them, why Athanasia told Damian to keep them a secret, what and who they were running from and why, and tens of others. It wasn’t hard to do, but the urge was still there.

Making sure his daughter (he had another daughter) got some much needed medical attention took precedence over that.

For now, he would merely let her speak to him on her own terms.

“Do you have a preferred name you go by?” Bruce asked, because his eldest went by ‘Dick’ and Tim hated it when ‘Timothy’ was used and Steph only let ‘Stephanie’ slide if the person was a stranger and Cass didn’t care one way or another, but she did seem to like when the family used the shortened version of her name more. If Athanasia wanted a specific name or nickname used, he planned to use it.

“My brothers called me ‘Ana’ sometimes,” she said. “Hardly anyone else calls me that, but I won’t mind you do, too.”

Bruce nodded and smiled. He finished bandaging the newly stitched up cut on her thigh as he said, “I will be sure to remember that, then.”

“I still will if you want me to,” Damian spoke up immediately from the other cot he sat on. His foot was propped up and an ice pack laid on his ankle, curtesy of Duke who had brought it over a few minutes ago; he seemed to want to stay, but got dragged away by Jason almost immediately.

What his youngest said took Bruce by surprise. Damian wasn’t the type to use nicknames or shortened versions of names; the exceptions were probably Jon Kent and Maps Mizoguchi. And, now, apparently the twins.

And he offered to.

One corner of her mouth twitched up before she smothered it, going for a neutral expression. Bruce still saw something akin to happiness and relief in her eyes as she nodded. “I wouldn’t mind that at all,” she said, “As long as I can still call you ‘Dames’.”

Damian pressed his lips into a thin line to lessen the size of his smile that he then twisted in a faux frown of annoyance. “If you must.”

Bruce refrained from reacting to that. He knew that Tim tried to call Damian that once, and his youngest son had a very sudden, negative reaction to it. Tim went to Bruce later that day, guilty and frustrated, because he didn’t mean to upset Damian and now they were at odds again; Bruce only got the story out after a spar.

It certainly made some sense now, why he had reacted like that. And also why he was more tolerant of ‘Dami’ than everyone thought he would originally be, back when Dick first started using it.

…A lot of things about Damian made sense now.

Bruce wondered often about how Damian, an apparent only child, grew accustomed to older brothers and a sister rather seamlessly. Well, after he stopped attempting to murder Tim, of course; and after he stopped insisting that he didn’t have siblings, that he was the only blood son and therefore superior than the others.

(He still occasionally pulled the blood son card. More so now to annoy the others, than anything.)

He grew accustomed seamlessly to the others because of Athanasia and Danny. He had always been the youngest. He was used to nagging, protective, annoying older siblings already.

It made Bruce emotional in so many ways.

The next fifteen minutes or so were spent in silence as Bruce finished tending to Athanasia’s wounds. When he got done, he stepped back to give her space as he picked up everything he had used.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked her.

“No,” she said. Athanasia almost sounded confused on why he asked, and Bruce sincerely hoped he imagined it. No one of any age should be confused when asked that. “Thank you, Batman.”

“Of course.”

Footsteps, hesitant and soft, grew close, catching their attentions. The redhead, Wesley ‘Wes’ Weston as he introduced himself as earlier, stopped a few feet away. His posture and the way his hands sat in his pockets said casual, but his muscles were tense and his expression held exhaustion.

“Wesley,” Athanasia said as a greeting.

Wes half smiled. “Hey.”

Bruce frowned a little. “Is everything okay?”

The teenager nodded. “Oh, yeah. Um, the others just want to talk about something as a whole. I came to get Ana.”

Bruce saw Damian straighten just the tiniest bit in his peripheral.

Athanasia began to get out of the cot, but Bruce held out a hand. She froze, so he kept his hand in the air rather than placing it on her shoulder like he was about to. Then, lowered it.

“You need rest. I’m sure the conversation can wait,” Bruce said to them.

Wes shook his head. “It can’t. It’s important.”

“Talking does not require extensive body movement,” Athanasia said. “And I’m sure Wesley is right about the importance. I can rest later.”

“You need rest now.”

Athanasia stared him dead in the eye and got out. She stood in front him, back straight and no sign of discomfort or pain.

She was tall for a girl, he noticed for a second time that night. Maybe a bit taller than Tim, if not the same height, but still shorter than Dick. The way she stood reminded him a lot of Talia, but that defiant look was something Damian definitely learned from her at a young age.

“I’m eighteen – an adult,” she spoke in Arabic, and that fact made his heart hurt. “I know my own limits by now. I will rest later.”

She then pivoted on her feet and walked off. As she passed Wes, she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt to drag him along. Other than a slight noise of surprise at being forcibly turned around in the opposite direction, the boy didn’t seem that fazed.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed behind the cowl at him as Wesley casually grabbed Athanasia’s hand to remove her grip. Her fingers twitched, almost holding his hand instead, before she pulled away and quickened her pace.

‘Acquaintances’ she said.

Damian huffed. “I don’t like him.”

“Hn.”

Alfred stepped halfway out of the curtained off area and requested his presence. A surge of panic washed over him and he walked over, telling Damian to stay put. Whatever Alfred needed, he hoped it was better than all the negative thoughts now plaguing his mind.

+++

Athanasia ached – for multiple reasons.

The soreness and pain was finally, truly settling in post-fight. With the adrenaline gone, and now able to relax with Danny being taken care of, she was way more aware of what hurt and what didn’t, except for the number areas where Batman had to do stitches. She probably should have asked for Tylenol or Ibuprofen. She didn’t.

Then, there was Damian. Her baby brother. She said that he was still short earlier, and he was, but he had also grown so much. Watching him from afar when she visited Gotham kept that fact from settling in until now.

He wasn’t the tiny, baby faced nine year old anymore. His hair used to be medium brown and wavy, but over the past few years it’s gotten a few shades darker and now the strands curled like her own. His limbs were lanky as he began to enter his teenage years, the baby fat was disappearing, and he was much taller than a nine year old. He stood and had the mannerisms and forming attitude of any other 13 year old.

Dányál was whole entirely different type of ache from realizing Damian had grown and the pain of her injuries. It was tangled up in anger and fear. At the GIW and Ra’s, and what they did to him.

She almost felt ten again, following the servant in the shadows to the Lazarus Pits. Except this time, there were no pools of bright green liquid to heal him to assure survival. Just the talented Penny-One, Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of Wayne Manor and doctor of the Batcave and a pseudo grandfather to many.

And her father… He was kind and gentle in a way she hadn’t expected. Yes, Jason said he was a good man, but she honestly never was able to picture it. Batman? The man who took down criminals nightly? Gentle? It was jarring, but not completely unwelcome.

It hurt knowing he was like that, and Mother kept them at the League of Assassins. It hurt that she now knew Jason spoke the truth, and Mother knew too, and even after Ra’s ran a sword through her son’s chest, she still kept them there. That she didn’t have her servant take her and Damian, too, and rather acted as if Dányál had truly died.

It hurt because she still didn’t believe it. Obviously he trained with the other members of the family, but all Athanasia was able to picture were the training tactics and punishments of the League. Batman trained with them, years ago, after all. Who’s to say he didn’t use the same ones on his kids?

And then there was Wesley. No one knew about Wesley. Not even the rest of Team Phantom. She even kept herself from thinking about it until the mission of finding and saving her brother was done.

Manson and Foley were the first members of the team she’d met – technically. Wesley Weston wasn’t a member when she first visited Amity Park and met him. They grew close; then Athanasia panicked and ran away left town, only to come back when the GIW took over. She felt bad for leaving him, truly, and she didn’t understand why he didn’t seem to be as angry as she thought he’d be.

There were so many aching emotions within her. It was almost overwhelming. Athanasia wanted to rest; she knew her father was right that she needed to. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. Gray and Wesley needed to get back to Amity Park to get Ellie, and then figure out a way to get to Jazz Fenton, or at least somehow inform her of everything that happened.

They needed to figure out what, exactly, they were going to tell Batman about Dányál and literally everything else.

Athanasia sat down where the others had gathered – far enough away so they wouldn’t be heard, but still seen – and made short eye contact with Wesley when he sat in the only free spot beside her. They both looked away at the same time.

Gray and Manson had their own share of fresh bandages, but hardly the amount Athanasia had. Foley had one. A lucky shuriken cut his bicep and an ectoblast singed the bottom hem of his shirt, but other than that he was fine yet exhausted. Wesley was the only one injury free.

A pack of water bottles sat on the edge of the table. Everyone already had one when she got to the table. Foley was the closest to the pack, and he took one out and rolled it over to her without a word. There was a bottle of migraine medicine by Manson’s elbow where she was laying her head down.

“So,” Gray began to start the conversation. “Batman. I thought you were taking us to your dad?”

“I was, but I knew he would bring us to Batman anyway, so when I spotted him I decided to cut out the middle man.”

“Are you sure we can trust him?” asked Foley.

Athanasia nodded. “As a member of the Justice League, I fully believe Batman is trustworthy.”

“Exactly,” he sighed. “He’s a JL member – a founding member. In hindsight, it’s a good thing they have never visited Amity because that would risk any of them getting possessed, but not one member has checked on our town.”

“Well, actually,” interrupted Gray, “there was that British dude in a trench coat, remember? He smoked a lot. I think he mentioned a…Justice League Dark, or something? It was two or so years ago, so I’m not really sure.”

“Oh him!” Foley started laughing. “Oh, Ancients, how did I forget? Danny scared the shit out of him!”

Manson didn’t move, but she did snort amusedly. “That was hilarious.”

“So… What are we telling Batman?” Wesley asked when the laughter died down.

“Not everything,” said Manson. She finally lifted her head, and placed her hands around her eyes to block out some of the light. “For one, we need to figure out if he knows of the Anti-Ecto Act. We need to explain what’s happening in Amity Park, too. As for everything else… Danny should be the one to explain his powers and everything. Not even Athanasia knows it all.”

It was true. It annoyed her. She knew he had to have gotten the powers somehow, but Danny’s friends were tight lipped about it. All she knew was that Danny had ghost-like abilities, could change his looks, and also had whatever an ‘ice core’ was. She shouldn’t know about that last one, but she overheard Foley and Manson talking one night.

By eavesdropping she had hoped things would begin to make sense regarding her twin’s powers. Rather, it did the exact opposite.

“Batman will dig for answers,” Athanasia warned them. “He’s a detective – a good one, possibly the best in the world.”

Manson frowned.

“Then we give him enough info to keep him happy until Danny wakes up,” Foley said. “Then, he can make the decision on telling Batman everything else.”

“What about the others?” asked Gray. She looked at Athanasia. “Batman, sure. But does that include Robin? I saw you with them both earlier.”

“Robin is as trustworthy as Batman. All of the Bats and Birds in Gotham are, including Nightwing in Blüdhaven.”

“You sound so sure for someone who doesn’t know them personally,” Manson said.

Athanasia raised an eyebrow. “I never said I didn’t.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You never said you did, either.”

“Sam has a point,” Foley said.

“About what?”

“You never said if you did or didn’t know these vigilantes personally. You said you were taking us to your dad, and we’re here instead.”

Athanasia’s brows knitted together. “I said my father would have brought us to him, anyway. Why does that matter?”

“Because you said nothing about him in the first place.”

“Why does that matter?” she repeated. “Where do you think we would end up taking Dányál? Certainly not Arkham.”

“I don’t know, but it would be nice if you told us things,” he said, tone turning frustrated. “Like, who was the old dude you wanted to avoid?”

“That isn’t important right now,” she forced out. She knew she had to tell them about Ra’s, but she planned to do that later.

Manson scoffed as Wesley hesitantly said, “Well, no. It kinda is.”

“You mood completely changed when Tucker mentioned him on comms,” Gray said.

Athanasia drew in a deep breath through her nose. “That is not,” she spoke slow and low, “important right now.”

“Like hell–” Gray began.

“Why does it matter right now?” she stressed. “Can we focus on what is happening right now?”

“Whoever the fuck the old man is who came out of the room where they kept our best friend is isn’t important?” Manson asked incredulously.

“For now, yes!”

“How?! That makes no sense!”

“It really doesn’t make sense,” Wesley agreed, with Gray nodding along in agreement.

“C’mon, Ana, just–”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped at the other boy.

Taken aback, Foley frowned. “But Wes calls you that?”

Athanasia shrugged. “I knew him before you guys,” she admitted after a beat of silence.

His eyes, along with Manson’s and Gray’s, went to Wesley.

“It’s true,” he said with a nod.

Gray leaned her forearms on the table. “So, did you know about the assassin thing?”

“No.” Wesley’s tone wasn’t exactly clipped, but it was clear that he wasn’t happy.

Athanasia held back a grimace.

Gray’s eyes flicked between them, and a spark of realization flashed in her eyes. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ and she nodded slowly. “Well,” she said, somewhat awkwardly, “have fun talking that out.”

She crossed her arms and shifted in her seat. “Can we get back on track? Please.”

“That old guy–”

“Say it one more fucking time, Manson, I swear,” she snapped.

“Or what?”

“I will make that splitting headache of yours literal.”

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Everyone looked in that direction, and Athanasia was mildly surprised to see her father’s most recent foster kid standing there with a silver tray of sandwiches. He wore a t-shirt and basketball shorts and shoes, and had on a the helmet from the Signal suit. She knew he wore a domino mask earlier, so he must have switched one for the other when everyone else was too busy to notice.

“Athanasia, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, that’s me. You’re Signal.”

Signal – or rather, Duke Thomas – nodded as well. “Yep. Hood said you guys might be hungry so he snuck off and made these real quick.” He set the tray on the table.

“Oh,” she said, still a little surprised but pleased, because honestly Jason made some of the best food. “Thank you, Signal.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Wait, Hood?” Foley choked out. “As in, the Red Hood?”

When she and Signal both nodded, Manson sarcastically said, “Oh, so the one you do know personally is the Ancients-damned crime lord. Great.”

“Why is a crime lord working with Batman?” Gray questioned.

“He’s a Bat,” Signal told her. “And these days, he’s more an anti-hero.”

“Former crime lord, then,” she said. “That’s suspicious.”

“Not if they’re family,” Wesley said

Athanasia looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Signal just stared at him and didn’t make a sound. When he noticed, Wesley shifted in his seat, seeming a bit awkward and uncomfortable from Signal’s stare.

“How do you know that for sure?” she asked him.

Wesley shrugged. “I don’t, it’s one of my theories. I’m not sure if it’s an uncle-nephew thing, a father-son thing, or pseudo family thing, or a brother-brother thing, or what, but I believe it’s something along those lines. Otherwise, why isn’t Batman treating Red Hood like any other criminal, like Bane?”

“Hood is nothing like Bane,” Signal stated. The corners of his mouth had turned down into a frown, and Athanasia noticed the defensive and protective undertone.

Honestly, she almost said the same thing in the same way.

By the way Wesley’s eyes widened, he noticed Signal’s tone, too. He raised his hands. “Hey, man, I didn’t say he was. That’s just the first criminal who came to mind!”

Signal stared at him for another second, visibly unnerving Wesley even more, then finally looked away. “Anyway. Eat the sandwiches if you’re hungry.” Then, almost resigned, “If you need anything, please tell me. I’m stuck babysitting to make sure Robin doesn’t walk on his ankle, and that kid is borderline grumpy on good days.”

Athanasia smirked. “Good luck.”

“Ugh.”

When he walked away, Wesley spoke up again. “My family theory is growing.”

“Please don’t start trying to figure out their identities,” Foley practically begged. “I’d like to stay on their good sides.”

Silence.

Foley sighed.

“Seriously, Wes?” Gray complained.

“We can talk about Wes’ obsession with secret identities later–”

“It’s not an obse–”

Manson cut him off with a glare. “Later,” she emphasized. “Batman. GIW. The assassins. What and how much are we telling him?”

Much to Athanasia’s relief, she didn’t try to bring up Ra’s again to get her to explain. Her shoulders relaxed at that, and conversation finally got back on track.

+++

Much to Bruce’s short lived relief, all Alfred needed him for was to give him an extra set of hands to apply bandages to the teen. They were almost done. It took longer than Bruce liked, simply because he had so many injuries, old and new.

Alfred finished wrapping bandages around the boy’s torso. Gently and carefully, Bruce laid him back down, having been holding him up to make things easier.

He stared down at Danny. Even under anesthesia from surgery and with a safe amount of morphine to ease the pain, his face was still slightly pinched in a way that told them something still hurt. Bruce wished he knew what else he could do to help him. His kid.

Danny and Athanasia, he thought. Another son, another daughter. One who had one giant wound on his chest and other smaller ones littered about, one who had defensive and offensive injuries and bruises.

He almost lost another son tonight. He didn’t know Danny, didn’t even know he existed until a couple of hours ago. It still hurt. Still settled an ache in his heart – for him, Athanasia, Damian, and the other teenagers.

“Whoever did this…” Bruce began, anger seeping into his tone. “Who would vivisect a child?”

“I’m afraid, these days, that list is longer than any of us would like, Master Bruce,” Alfred said.

Bruce pushed back the cowl and rubbed his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb. “This is…” He had no words. With a sigh, he dropped his hand. “How bad is it, really?”

There weren’t many times Bruce could count on his hands where he saw Alfred look so devastated that he was near tears. To see it now, Bruce almost retracted his question.

“He had internal bleeding that I had to stop. Multiple broken ribs. Broken sternum.” Alfred hesitated. “Misplaced organs that I had to put back.”

Bruce shut his eyes, and backed up to fall into the chair behind him. He leaned back, hand over his eyes. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Anything else?”

“Master Bruce–”

“Anything else?” he repeated, firm.

Alfred sighed. “He has bruises and cuts on his wrists – signs of a struggle against cuffs of some sort. Burns from something I am unsure of. His right forearm is fractured; we will have to call Dr. Thompkins to get it properly taken care of. Until then I placed a splint on it. He has other injuries, but those are superficial and nothing to worry about. If he is anything like anyone else in this family, he will make a miraculously full recovery.”

Taking in the information, Bruce rubbed at his temple, then looked back at Danny. He was pale from blood loss, and from where Bruce sat he couldn’t see the splinted arm but he did earlier.

The heart monitor beeped slower than an average human. It set Bruce’s anxiety off, afraid that at any moment it will slow down to a complete stop.

“There is…another thing that has my concerns,” Alfred spoke as he began to clean the area.

“The Lichtenberg figures.”

“Yes.”

Bruce noticed them when he first began helping Alfred. It was hard not to see them. The ones on his back started at the base of his neck and went all the way down his spine. Most branched off into faint, small lines that followed the nervous system of the body, and quickly faded out; a few went up towards his hairline. But there was one figure that branched off, that stayed prominent like the one down his spine; it went across his shoulder blade and down his left arm, not stopping until it reached the palm.

“They are old, from what I can tell,” said Alfred. “A few or so years, perhaps.”

Bruce brows lowered. “Lichtenberg figures disappear after a few days.”

“Not these.”

Bruce sighed.

The Lichtenberg figures. The horror of what happened and who did it. The Lazarus green on both twins, and Danny’s bandages. The secrecy of the twins.

Bruce had so many questions. He needed answers.

“Might I suggest, Master Bruce, that you wait to interrogate the traumatized teenagers?”

He stilled from where he stood back up. “We need answers–”

“And we can get them once everyone is well rested,” said Alfred. “We have no idea how long any of them have been awake, or where they even came from. Ask questions now, and you will have five exhausted and frightened teenagers giving you the hardest time of your life.”

Bruce thought back to when they first got to the Batcave. Of the persistence and stubbornness, and blatant refusal to let the adults take over. He admired their loyalty and want to protect their friend, but he did not want a repeat of that tonight.

“You’re right,” he reluctantly admitted.

“I often am, Master Bruce.”

“Hey.” The curtain moved. Jason poked his head in. “It’s just me,” he announced. “Gave Duke a tray of sandwiches earlier to give the kids. They have water, too. Need me to do anything here?”

Alfred looked down at the bed Danny was on; Bruce did, too. The sheets and mattress were stained from the impromptu surgery.

“A little help cleaning up and moving Master Danny to a new bed will be much appreciated,” said Alfred.

Jason nodded, then backed out with a, “One clean medical cot. Got it.”

That left Bruce and Alfred to continue cleaning everything else. The former tossed away the old bandages, dirtied thread, and alcohol wipes; the latter picked up the medical equipment that had been used and placed them in a plastic tub to be washed and disinfected later. Jason quickly came back in rolling up a clean bed, and they carefully moved Danny from one to the other.

Silence fell as Bruce began to check that the IV was still secure after all of the moving.

“So,” Jason said, Alfred leaving to put everything away, stained bed included. “Danny, huh.”

Bruce hummed.

The quiet turned tense between them.

“Hell, old man, just go ahead and ask.”

With crossed arms, he looked at his second son. “You knew.”

“Not a question, but sure. Whatever.” Jason motioned to Danny. “I didn’t know about him. Hell, I didn’t even know about Damian until he came here.”

His eyes narrowed a little. “But you knew about Athanasia. You recognized her on the roof.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, carelessly. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

“For how long?”

Jason didn’t immediately answer. “I don’t know, B. I guess I was sixteen?” He crossed his arms, too. “She looked, maybe, a little younger than Damian is now.”

“So you met at the League.”

“Eh, sure… It would be more accurate to say she found me, and randomly appeared like the fucking Ghost Christmas Past or some shit.”

“And you never told me.”

“Jesus. No.”

“Why?”

“No more dead Robins. No more child soldiers. No more kids dealing with your shit,” said Jason. “Take your fucking pick.”

“They aren’t Robins, Jason, and they definitely are not child soldiers because of me,” Bruce snapped. “They are my children, all of you are, and I didn’t force any of you to do what we do. I wouldn’t have forced Athanasia to become a vigilante if she didn’t want to, if she came here with Damian!”

Underneath his domino mask, Bruce knew Jason was glaring at him. “Are you going to hound Damian like this? He didn’t tell you either!”

“Because he made a promise that he wouldn’t! You didn’t! Six years, son–”

“And she’s been visiting Gotham for two!” Jason yelled.

“What do you mean?”

“She already knew you’re her dad; don’t ask me how because I don’t know. But don’t you think she would have come to you if she wanted you to know?”

Bruce faltered for only a second.

It was long enough for a small projectile to hit him in his temple before he could form an actual response to his son. He flinched from the impact but caught it – a rock from somewhere in cave – and heard Jason begin to chuckle before he also got hit in the side of the head with another rock.

Having slipped into the curtained off area while they argued, stood Athanasia. A few more rocks were in one hand and Bruce had no doubt she would throw another one if she felt like she needed (or wanted) to.

Her expression was a guarded.

Jason glared at her. “What the hell–”

“The others want to speak with Batman. In case you forgot because of your aging mind, I didn’t tell them your identity, so I suggest you put the cowl back on before you walk out.” With that, she ducked out, not waiting for either of them to speak.

There was a beat of silence.

“Insulted by a new kid in under two hours,” said Jason. “That has to be a new record.”

“No,” Bruce denied gruffly, “it still goes to you for calling me a ‘big boob’ and hitting me with a tire iron when stealing my tires.”

“I wasn’t your kid then.”

“Hn.”

Jason exasperatedly sighed. “You’re impossible.” He walked out without another word.

Bruce put on the cowl, but didn’t leave until Alfred came back, wary to leave Danny alone. When Alfred assured him that he would alert them if needed, he left and made his way to Athanasia and the other teenagers.

He wasn’t surprised to see Damian already there. Either Athanasia got him or he forced Duke to help him; whatever the case, he and Duke now sat at the table with the others, while Jason stood off to the side against a nearby cave wall. His helmet was back on, and he watched the group with crossed arms.

He pulled up a spare chair and held laced it between Athanasia and Damian. He had barely sat down for longer than a second when the girl who introduced herself as Valerie Gray spoke up.

“We need to leave.”

“No.”

She reeled back, shocked. The others stared at him with either incredulity or anger. Tucker Foley froze with a half eaten sandwich hovering in front of his mouth, and Sam Manson looked ready to argue.

“Um, yes,” Valerie corrected. “You can’t keep us here, we aren’t prisoners. We brought Danny here for medical attention, and now that that’s done, Wes and I need to head back to Amity Park ASAP.”

“I can’t in good conscience let any of you to take another trip somewhere,” Bruce told them. “I’m not keeping you as prisoners. You need rest. All of you.”

“We can rest later,” Sam argued. “We don’t have time to just- just sit around and do nothing!”

“Resting isn’t doing nothing,” he said. “It’s making sure you don’t push your body and mind too much so you can work more later.”

“We don’t have time for later.”

“With all due respect, um, Batman, sir,” Tucker began nervously, “Sam and Valerie are right. We have a lot to do. This has already gone on for long enough.”

Underneath the cowl, an eyebrow raised. “And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

The group hesitated.

“There is a secret government organization tormenting a subspecies of humans and metas,” Athanasia explained. “The organization call themselves the Ghost Investigation Ward.”

“Ghosts,” Bruce repeated.

The teens nodded.

Duke ‘huh’ed, as if he was piecing things together in his own head.

“Ghosts?” questioned Jason incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “There are literally aliens on this world, a dude with a magical ring, an Amazonian woman, a gene in human DNA that gives some of us powers, heroes apparently die and come back to life on the regular, a bunch of other shit, and you’re seriously questioning ghosts right now?”

“What do you mean by ‘tormenting’?” Bruce asked before Jason could properly respond. “And why?”

“Ghosts, or anything paranormal, aren’t seen as good or friendly beings by them,” Tucker said. His eyes became downcast. “They aren’t even considered beings. Or sentient.”

“The GIW are ghost hunters,” Valerie explained. “And over the past few years, they have taken an interest in our town, Amity Park, because of the extreme amount of paranormal activity and ambient ectoplasm we have. Usually our local ghost vigilante takes care of them, and it’s never been that big of a deal, even though they have always wanted to catch Phantom and do Ancients know what. He’s always been able to stop them before anything got too serious.

“Honestly, we didn’t take them that seriously when we probably should have. We call them the Guys in White, because they’re like a lame, evil, paranormal-obsessed version of the Men in Black. Even though they did have bad intentions, they’ve never been successful. But last October…”

“They aren’t so lame anymore,” Wes muttered.

As Bruce quietly took in and filed away the information he just got, Damian gave them a somewhat judgmental look. “You underestimated them. That can very well lead to a deadly mistake,” he said. He glared at them under the domino mask. “It almost did.”

“We know,” Sam responded, sounding equally frustrated and solemn. “They are a government organization that got bested by a group of fourteen year olds when they first came along. What were we supposed to think? They have been getting better over the years, but so have we. We have always taken necessary precautions and we had plans for potential bad outcomes because Danny was insistent on that. But they stopped coming around for some time. We stupidly believed they’d given up on us. Then the Guys in White finally showed their faces again, and we weren’t as prepared as we should have been.”

“It’s why we need to get back to Amity Park,” Wes said. “They put us under martial law and we need to get in touch with another friend of ours.”

Bruce took in what they said. He still had a bunch of questions alongside new ones that he wanted answers to ASAP. Alfred was right, though; questioning them right now – let alone letting any of them leave to continue on their mission – wasn’t a good idea.

This was a group of eager, stubborn teenagers whose town and best friend were in danger. He understood their urgency to keep going, and he told them as such. “But it will do no good for anyone to run yourselves to the ground. I’m even willing to help and hear the full story of what happened, but not until each of you get some much needed rest. That’s final.”

“But–”

“Batman, you don’t understand–”

“Running on fumes will get you no where,” he spoke firmly and loudly. It was the same tone he used on his kids, both in and out of suits, when they were misbehaving or did something they shouldn’t have. “It might even lead to another almost deadly mistake. You all need to rest. You can either stay in a safe house, or I can get in touch with Athanasia’s father and see if you can go there if that’s what you want.”

“What if we want a hotel?” Sam asked with a glare that hard to tell if it was from anger at him or the migraine she had.

“I won’t let you,” he bluntly admitted. “A government organization is after Danny and you guys by proxy, for reasons I don’t know. It’s either a safe house, or Athanasia’s father’s home that I have personally created a security system for.”

No one responded. A short silence fell over them.

Bruce decided to stand up. “I will let you guys choose. I need to check on my partners out in the field.”

#dc x dp fanfiction #dc x dp fic #dc x dp au #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc au #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc crossover #batpham #stay with me my blood #my writing

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tanglepelt · 10 months

Text

Run Ghost Run 13

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Danny gets treatment, not that he needs it. Jason does not agree.

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

Why did Red have to look at him? Why had he made that deal? Why was he going through with it?

He really didn’t want to. Danny had been so confident he would win. So sure, he could keep going. He’s been through so much and always manages to push through it. He barely could stand before collapsing.

Now here he was on the ground. Caving into the deal. He just felt inclined to comply. Like he had to.

Danny even went as far as to let Red help him up. Even taking off his sweatshirt. This did not track.

Why is he letting him unwrap the bandages? Heck, he isn’t even fighting him on it. Hell, he still fights Sam and Jazz on any injury he got. Tucker gave up on forcing treatment. Really it was only a very few weapons that left a mark. Why now was he just idly letting it happen?

Not fighting him on any aspect

Sam told him he once punched Tucker while unconscious.

Which didn’t make sense?

Logistically, he had no requirements to follow along. Even if it was somehow a legally binding deal. Danny was in fact only a minor. Not able to make these agreements.

Frick, the last of the bandages. Danny still wasn’t moving.

Red was going to see them. He was going to see the cuts. This dude did not need to see his stomach. The other injuries... were fine. Those injuries weren’t that horrid. Sure, he was bruised. So, what if his stomach mayhaps be bleeding? It was only a little bit. It was mostly inside him.

The injection site. That stupid injection from the GIW. He just knew that was going to look bad as well. He really hasn’t paid much attention to that specific spot. The Y had really taken priority while on the roof and billboard.

But what his pare- Jack and Maddie did to him.

He really didn’t want to think about it, being treated. No just let it be... it has to heal at some point.

The bandages did hide the injury. Why reveal it? If you can’t see it, it doesn’t exist, that’s just how the rule goes. If only everyone else and his body agreed.

He knew the stitches were bad. He rushed them at night on a roof. It would be obvious he did it on his own. Which he did technically imply he was on the run from the government. But this crime lord actually was persistent on not letting him dip. Did he really want to show the injury off? Was the blood even red or green? Was it ectoplasm leaking through the bandages? Was he even an actual human right now? Did he go ghost? What color was it?

No, it was red. He looked down. Human blood, which should have been a sign. Jack and Maddie had made a ghost bleed before, never enough to actually harm them. But enough to see. They bled green, not red.

He was bleeding red.

Red all through the bandages. He was him despite what they claimed.

Jack and Maddie just didn’t think so. They only thought of him as a body snatcher. Just jamming right into him. No care, no hesitation. Just cut after cut, that burning through his neck, and how he could still feel it nothing had stopped it. He couldn’t stop the noises either.

No budging on the cuffs. Not breaking or bending. This stup-

Autopsy marks

Red had died. That confirmed that. HE Had come back not the same way as him, not via normal medical procedures.

Well, Red got him out of his thoughts on his vivisection that his parents would deem dissection. Out of all the ways to be brought out. The guy who had seen the marks essentially just said bet.

Bringing up his own marks.

Not done fresh, not while awake. Not a vivisection he didn’t even call it a dissection.

Autopsy.

Red said autopsy marks.

Faded and light. With how red smelt he wasn’t surprised. Danny had been fairly positive the man had come in contact with the river of revulsion. To be heavily covered in the stench it just made sense. Active and free ghost repellent. Nothing his doctor would order.

Now coming back to life after an autopsy. That. That was unexpected. He himself came back. Only because he was brought back right away. He didn’t linger long enough to get an autopsy. That would have only shown death via the portal. But coming back after that.

No that.

That…

That was unexpected.

Something he had not expected to ever hear. That sounds like it could be problematic. The very balance of life and death. That’s an issue he should deal with. Or maybe he just wouldn’t. Someone coming back to life… well was that actually a problem. Being alive is fun. There shouldn’t be a leak like that, especially since it wasn’t real ectoplasm that brought him back.

HE would just have to ignore that for now. Not his problem.

Danny technically wasn’t king; he had no powers so why report anything? Also, he really didn’t want to get caught… an abnormality wasn’t that big of a deal.

One person being brought back to life, ages after dying, it can’t be that big.

Yea…

Not his problem.

*******

Jason could handle this. Totally handle it. Definitely, totally absolutely no need to freak out at all.

Maybe he should have hounded them for more info. Not gone radio silent yet again. Jason had just wanted to focus on the passed-out child. The lady from his dreams taunting him about helping some prince. The timing just felt odd to suddenly run into a kid who needs help.

As well he didn’t want to deal with every other bird/bat in Gotham. If they're going to bug him so much, they can track him down. He’ll focus on the kid. It was only a matter of time. They never knew when to back off.

Still.

A hey. The kid was cut open. That would have been nice. He may not be responding but a message may have been nice.

That group really deserved a visit. The facility needed to burn down. Preferably with the perpetrators still inside. Give them a little warm-up of their afterlife.

Jason couldn’t think about this right now. Danny said not to freak out. He couldn’t show his inner turmoil. He went into a neutral expression.

Not quick enough.

Danny went from defeated acceptance into nervous energy and looking ready to bolt. With how grievous the injuries were he wouldn’t get too far. Or even off the couch.

He really needed to get him into the spare bedroom.

Out of all the info he had gotten this had not been mentioned. He knew the kid got injected with something the injures he was warned about. Didn’t equate to vivisection. He couldn’t have a mini freak out right now. Calming down the victim had to come first.

Lying would get him nowhere. No guarantees that he’d be fine now or excuses. Saying everything will be okay would not de-escalate the situation. Offering a lollipop wouldn’t help anything.

No. None of that. He needed to connect.

His own scar came to mind. The only one that remained after the pits.

He remembers after the pits. His mind came back to himself. It was then he saw his own reflection. It had felt all wrong.

His own body scared in a way to remember he was killed. His own autopsy scars are light and faint.

It wasn’t the same thing by any means. It could be just enough to get the kid out of his own thought. Give him something else to grapple with.

Get the haunted look out of his eyes. Dannys breathing getting more rapid. Get him out of his own head. No one deserves to remember their own death.

His expression was calm and neutral keeping his voice as neutral as possible. “I’ll admit to not being used to seeing those markings fresh, I mean I see my own autopsy marks anytime I’m shirtless in the mirror.”

The change was near instant. Rather than the dark look, now the kid had one of confusion, trying to solve a puzzle. Well, he could work with that.

Let him process that information, then work on getting his guard down. Confusion would be a lot easier to work off of, much better than panicking. He could guide confusion into a reluctant calm. Probably. He wouldn’t be able to properly stitch it up otherwise. And they needed it. The angles of the stitches... man he had to have dealt with that himself. No wonder they were Sloppy and loose.

The fact any were still in place was a shock.

Danny had to have been alone for that.

They were irritated and red, signs of an infection. This was bad. No way he was getting the kid to a doctor. Given the meta factor, normal stuff might not work in the slightest. He could handle the patching up.

Meta drugs or something that could work.

That could be an issue. Maybe that med kit in the bag had something.

He’d have to ask the kid. No way a trusted medical professional would get within 30 feet of this kid.

No way the kid would agree to see Leslie. Well. Maybe in civies and not any sign of being a legit doctor. But bringing anyone in could end in running. Meaning worsening the injuries. He shouldn’t have even been moving after this. Recover was going to be tough.

Even if he did have rapid healing. It certainly wasn’t helping with how he was going. Jumping off roofs and running around. Not good for recovery.

But.

It made sense.

It made too much sense.

Thought for after everything was cleaned and fixed up.

Jason's phone started to buzz against him in his pocket. Bruce no doubt. He's been dodging his calls since last night. Jason had bigger problems to deal with right now.

“Wounds infected, know of anything that works on it” Jason really didn’t expect an answer. Danny was tight-lipped in the alleyway. He had a better tactic to try… “If not ill just wash it out and hope for the best. Takes longer to heal if not, longer you won’t make it to the door.”

Kid rolled his eyes and groaned “My bag, med kit... it glows green. It will probably work” he didn’t seem very sure of if it would or not. No time like the present. So, it was off to the bag.

Glowing green vial…

Nearly the same color as the pits. Only greener and less chunky. So close to pit waters.

“It’s ectoplasm... not pit??? Water. It’s also toxic, so I guess be wary. Unless you’re into that, I guess. I’m literally an ecto-being. Not some pit being. Who calls that stuff pit water? That’s just gross. Did it come from someone’s armpits? Like some stinky old man. No something to fear according to the government. Like they didn't start it”

If he was gonna talk. He most certainly was gonna let him.

“Hunted down for the government's stupid law. Human opened the dang portal. The others wanted to play, not get shot. 0 out of 10 getting shot is deadly… nearly enough as electricity” Danny got quiet after that. He was gonna prod. Just a tad.

“They do that to ya”

“I wish…. it was my parents” spitting out the last word eyes glowing green “Apparently I’m not human enough for them.”

Green glowing eyes, another thing for the mental file.

Here he was looking to confirm the government agency. He knew it was legit, but hearing if they did that to a kid was... Well, That would have given the motivation to eradicate that specific branch. He didn’t need any more motivation, the more he had the quicker it would go down. The kid has too much going against him.

He now had “Parents” to look into.

First calming down the kid. Hopefully getting him into an actual bed. The couch was okay but with those wounds. Not gonna be good enough.

“You drink this stuff or dump it on?” He asked while pulling out one of the vials. Danny just made grabby hands at it. So, he simply handed it over.

Danny just took it like a shot.

Huh?

The white in the kid’s hair started to turn black and must be linked somehow. Maybe a sign of health? Powers? Too many things it could be.

Filing that in the mental file.

Danny’s eyes were dropping. Either the emotional backlash or ectoplasm was getting to him. Good enough to patch up and move the kid to the room. Little to no argument on his part.

Most of exhausted himself already. Easy to do when you have one foot on the grave. The kid would be out for a while. Should be at least.

Yet again to be on the safe side. The backpack was left in the living room the wall opposite the room. The bedroom door was left open. That room made enough noise he wasn’t worried about him walking out. Him going intangible.

That prevents the creaks.

Hence the trackers inside the lining of the backpack. He was a decent enough seamstress. He had all night.

Of course, his phone was vibrating. Despite turning that off.

Did Bruce really think he was going to give up his location? The man keeps calling and texting. He had his meeting with the league, they just needed to deal with the GIW. He could babysit the kid. This was the one safe house he has manages to stay secret. Let him enjoy it until they undoubtedly track it down. Which. Well. They probably already had the location at this point.

Ugh, another vibration. He refused the call. Muting it yet again.

Jason knew he’d have to get the information soon. He couldn’t just dip and for all they knew the kid had enhanced hearing. So, it wasn’t wise to send anyone up.

Not when the kid had just passed out. Who knew how long he would have been out? Danny was most likely to bolt when he first woke up.

It was a no-go on any outside interference. The kid may not be able to successfully get away. He doubted he could bolt out the window. It was the second story. But he wouldn’t take that risk. That supposed ectoplasm in the vial, which was to lose to the Lazarus green pits for him, did bring back some black hair.

He had to be cautious. The brat probably has some of his powers back.

The room did go cold.

Good for Danny, bad for keeping him safe. The kid was a flight risk enough.

And his phone was going off yet again. Bruce because of course it was. Man, he's really gunning for it. Jason had muted his phone three times at this point. Ugh. He wasn’t going to stop, was he?

Jason did need more information.

Ugh.

The kid was out for a second time. He would be out for at least 10 minutes. F it. He could just pop outside. He’d just be quick.

“What”

#dp x dc #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp dc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #red hood #jason todd #run ghost run

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sprog-writes · 3 years

Link

Read here, or on AO3! Word count: 3293 Possible trigger warnings: Danny’s death is referenced, as is that of other ghosts.

Enjoy!

He let himself fall to the ground, phasing through it and stopping himself just in time not to facepalm on sewer water.

“Ghost or no, I’m not getting that on myself” he muttered out loud. He was sure he had lost his parents, he didn’t think they would follow him into the sewers.

But apparently he thought wrong, as he heard the metal sound of the manhole getting opened a couple of feet from him. He started flying again, turning invisible and phasing slightly through the ground once more, ready to flee if necessary, but he couldn’t help but stay to look at them, hoping to see… he didn’t know what, exactly, but he didn’t want to miss it. He thought maybe they’d let something slip, or at least he’d see their new tech in action.

He saw them look his way, scanning their surroundings, most likely in search of his presence. They walked around for a bit, with Danny on their trail, before deciding to split up, his father going back on the streets where they came from and his mom staying in the sewers walking around.

“Jack, dear, everything as expected?” he heard his mom suddenly say. They were probably talking via intercoms, having upgraded their basic equipment over the years, as well as their ghost hunting tech.

‘What does that mean?’ Danny wondered to himself. He didn’t hear the response, but something told him he had better run away from there, far from her. As soon as he actually moved away and phased through the concrete and was back on the street, he was met by his father’s eyes looking directly at him, a smug smile on his face.

Danny looked at his hands to make sure he was still invisible and as he found nothing, he shot a questioning look to his dad, before turning the other ways and flying up to run somewhere safe -or at the very least, safer than there-, instead he found himself face first onto a ghost shield, tumbling back a couple of feet and turning visible again.

“Great…” Danny muttered out loud and found himself asking his dad “Can curiosity kill the cat, if the cat already died?” His father looked at the boy confused, obviously not understanding the contest of Danny’s joke and why it was absolutely hilarious. At least, to Danny it was.

‘Not the time for jokes!’ he thought as he turned intangible again to escape towards the sewers, but as he hit his face against the shield again, he realised that it went all the way around.

He saw his mom cheekly smiling at him before turning around and going back the way she came from, most likely to meet with his dad.

He floated back up, sitting on the street with his arms and legs crossed, and pouting.

“Pouting? Really?” his mother’s voice caught his attention, but he refused to look at her. Getting out of those things was annoying and he really didn’t want to be vivisected by his parents. Or dissected. He was technically a ghost, but also not really, and ghosts are not dead bodies so which one would be more correct? As he wondered his mom continued talking to him “What are you? 5?”

“I’ll have you know” he pointed at himself with his thumb “I am almost of age” Danny announced.

“It’s not like you’ll actually age past 14, ghost” his dad intervened “you’re a ghost!”

Danny stayed silent for a moment, looking at him and then floated to his eye level “Astute observation like alway, Jack” it was always weird having to refer to his parents with their first names, but after a good almost 4 years it became second nature, even a little hard not to mix it up and call them by their names when he was their son, and ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ when he was Phantom.

His dad seemed to take his obvious sarcasm as a genuine compliment and smiled proudly, as his mom shook her head and put a hand on her husband’s shoulder.

“You’re coming with us” as the words left his mom’s mouth, his mood worsened, the air getting colder by the second. His parents visibly noticed. He never meant to do it, but it was hard to control how much cold he emitted, especially when in distress. Some sort of defense mechanism, Sam had once offered as an explanation.

While he was floating, his parents took the opportunity to slide the bottom of a ghost cage under him. Danny recognised it; it was made of ectoranium, impossible to phase through for any ghost. Or, well, half-ghosts, as it were. How his parents got their hands on it, Danny didn’t know.

He sat back down, the same position as before, pout ever present on his face, and the rest of the cage appeared around him.

“You gave up easy” ‘almost too easy’ was left unsaid, but clearly implied. She was wary of what she probably believed to be unusual behaviour for the ghost child, and really. Who could blame her?

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I could’ve gotten out of here, anyway, right now” Danny shrugged, but keeping his face glowering, eyes just a tint of toxic green too much.

“Contrary to popular belief,” he decided to add, as his parents started lifting the cage -complete with its own ghost shield- to carry him to the familiar RV “And by popular opinion I mean, specifically, your opinion” the halfa turned to glare at the two adults holding his temporary prison, no real malice behind it “I am neither dumb, nor do I want to hurt humans!” he huffed, having had this conversation with his folks too many times to count.

Danny realized that carrying him in a metal cage was not going to be a good experience, the RV being pretty far away from his point of capture, so he started floating a bit. Not too much to hit the metal roof, but enough to take off the weight of his ecto-body.

A thought entered his mind, so he ignored his dad’s questioning look, probably in relation to his act of altruism towards his capturers, to ask “Why a cage?” he didn’t really expect an answer, and when neither of his parents answered he let out a heavy breath, a little disappointed.

Then, Danny heard his mom sigh and saw her shake her head as she asked for clarification “What do you mean, ghost?”

“Well, isn’t a cage a little… I don’t know… primitive? Couldn’t you have captured me with one of your Fenton Thermoses?” to Danny it seemed more work than it was worth. The Thermos would contain him and he would be much easier to carry.

“We wanted to keep you under observation” his dad butted in, making Danny turn to look at him.

“What if I just turn invisible? Can’t really observe me if you can’t see me” he smirked as he thought of turning invisible just to piss them off.

But his dad kept smiling, and even without checking, he was almost certain that his mom was doing the same. They had found him before, when he was invisible. Ergo: they had something to track him down with.

His own grin was wiped off of his face as the realization of them being several steps ahead hit him, as he began assessing their tech, everything they had with them, everything that could be new.

‘Man, I should really pay more attention when they talk about their new inventions’ he scolded himself for being so careless.

That was when he saw it. “Your goggles” he shook his head ‘The lenses are green, how did I miss that?’ Danny chastised himself for not noticing it in time.

“What is it? Heat signature? Ectoplasmic residue? A bit of both?” The look on their faces was one of confusion and mild astonishment. His dad opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word, probably about to give Danny an honest response, his mom answered him “We won’t tell you how our weapons work. It would be giving you a way to work around them” she glared at him, a silent threat not to try anything stupid.

“So I was right on the money. It’s a bit of both, isn’t it?” he put his hands down, floating a bit more to put himself in a more comfortable position “Man, you guys are good!” he chuckled, then sighed loudly when his eyes landed back on the cage’s bars.

“Well, I’m taking a nap” a yawn escaped his mouth before he could catch it, watering his eyes a bit “Wake me up when you need me” he rolled to the side and, using his forearm and hand as a makeshift cushion, he closed his eyes, hoping he could drift off to sleep.

But his peace was short lived, as he heard his mother groan not more than a few minutes later. He opened one of his eyes to look at her, and as lucidely as possible addressed her.

“What?” he asked.

“You can drop the act, stop trying to pretend you’re human”

“Maddie, I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s about…” he made a point to look at the sky, as if assessing the time. He could, if he wanted, with just a bit more time. But not at that moment “ass o’clock in the morning!” he emphasized his point by turning around and looking the other way “I’m tired and I want to sleep. So” he yawned again “if you do not require my services” he said, with as much of a posh english accent he could master “I’m going to take a power nap”

It seemed that his parents really didn’t want him to sleep, as his attempt to slumber was once again interrupted by his mom speaking, as the cage was lowered in the backseat of the RV “You’re a ghost” she simply stated.

Danny stayed silent for a second, then sighed. He had been doing that a lot that day “And you’re a human” he hoped she would understand that stating the obvious wasn’t going to help her with whatever she needed from him.

“You don’t need to sleep” she stated, once again, as if it was an undeniable, scientific truth she gathered studying ghosts, and not a prejudice developed after years of conjectures.

Danny gave up on trying to catch some shut eye. He would have to take a nap during lunch the next day, because at that point he was sure it was going to be another all-nighter. He stayed laying down, with his back towards the cage’s floor and his hands behind his head, still floating a little. It made him feel more comfortable, as a ghost, to be above ground instead of touching it. He thought it had to do with the change in weight that came with his body changing from meat to ectoplasm, but he couldn’t be sure.

He closed his eyes, but didn’t try to fall asleep, as his dad started driving “If I wasn’t already dead, I’m sure your driving would kill me” he complained to himself. His breath hitched, as the vehicle swayed all of a sudden, the motion causing a startled noise to exit his mouth and his eyes to open.

“Why do you put that much effort in seeming human? It won’t work with us” his mom didn’t even turn around to look at him. Danny wouldn’t lie and say it never hurts to be treated like that from his parents, but he knew they would change their point of view in a heartbeat if he revealed himself. After all, he had lived it.

But he never did. The cons had always outweighed the pros, the pain he would bring them to see what they unconsciously did wasn’t worth it. They would fret, and worry, and blame themselves for everything. Danny didn’t want that. He didn’t want to see the look in their eyes when they realized how much they had involuntarily hurt him.

“What do you mean?” he tiredly decided to ask his mom.

“You know what I mean,” his mom replied, completely useful. Danny raised an eyebrow at her, awaiting clarification.

She sighed “I mean” she said harshly “the breathing. The saying you want to-to- to sleep!” she sounded utterly done with the whole situation “I don’t understand what benefits you get from keeping up the charade, seeing as it won’t work” she unfatised the last words, making it clear for Danny that they didn’t buy whatever they thought he was selling.

He looked at her, closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled “Do you want an actual answer you will listen to? You will consider what I say, even if it doesn’t align with what you think you know about ghosts?” he knew they weren’t going to. They were stuck in their way, too obsessed with being right to even consider that something was different, twisting every bit of evidence they got to fit their beliefs.

His parents shared a glance. His dad had seemed more willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He never wanted to prove that ghosts were evil -after all, why would someone wish for inherently evil things to exist?- no, he just had always wanted to get rid of those that were, and for a while it was all of them. But a lot of things happened over the years, he met a lot of ghosts that didn’t fit the mold they created with speculations.

His mom, Danny knew, was the same. But she was also in denial. She didn’t want her entire worldview to change, because the unknown was scary.

‘Wow’ Danny thought ‘I’ve been hanging out with Jazz too much’

He saw his father smile and turn to look at the road in front of him, as did his mother, but she wasn’t smiling. She had her arms crossed and looked at Danny from the rearview mirror.

“We’ll humour you” she simply stated.

‘Well… It’s a start’ Danny wasn’t going to look a gifted horse in the mouth.

“Have you ever considered I’m not faking it?” that elicited a chuckle from his mom “Yeah, sure” she said sarcastically “You don’t need to breathe, why would you?”

“I’m not sure” Danny answered honestly “I’ve thought about it, though” he, Jazz and Sam had that conversation once, when he was still scared of not being completely human. When he hadn’t quite accepted everything that had happened.

“That’s your answer? ‘I don’t know, but I’m not faking it’?” his dad said, incredulous.

“I can give you some theories I have,” he offered. He won’t let that afternoon of oversharing insecurities with his -at the time- wanna-be-psychologist sister go to waste.

“Sure” they said at the same time, his dad with a curious note to his voice, while his mom just sounded wary.

“Well…” he thought about where to start. He could pull out the big guns, but was it really worth it to lay bare his doubts in front of his parents? He decided that maybe it was, if he could change their opinions like that.

“The most probable thing is I do it out of habit” he shrugged “even though I don’t need it, I’ve been doing it for 14 years, so it’s hard to just… not. Somethings I catch myself not breathing and I panic, before remembering that it’s not a big deal” which was something that Tucker always made fun of him for, but after it always got a good laugh out of all of them.

He waited for his parents to say something, but they didn’t comment, so he kept going “The other theory I had for a while, which was mostly before I stopped aging, was that it was a subconscious thing” he heard his father mutter under his breath “Aging?”

“Yeah, I kept aging for a while, but I don’t know if you could actually call it that. I think that since I died before finishing puberty I… Involuntarily kept changing my body to look like I was still, somehow, going through puberty”

“What made you stop?” His father seemed much more interested in all that than his mom, who just looked skeptical. He answered anyway.

“I noticed that ghosts weren’t supposed to change. Seeing how young Youngblood is, how long Dorothea has been a ghost even though she’s been one since the 12th century made me realize that” it had been a little painful, Dora had actually been very supportive and helpful about it. Clockwork tried to help, but he didn’t really understand with his whole ‘being all ages at the same time’ thing he had going on.

“I was in denial. About the whole ‘being dead’ thing. When I accepted that it was it. I wasn’t going to get a driver’s licence. I wasn’t going to be old enough to drink. I wouldn’t graduate. That’s when I stopped aging” it wasn’t a lie per se, sure. It was true that he did age for a while before accepting the fact that, partially, he was a ghost and nothing could change that. But he would still be able to achieve some of the things he wouldn’t be able to do if he was fully a ghost.

Sure, he had given up on being an astronaut, certain that he couldn’t pass any medical exam, but at the end of the day, he could go up to see the stars every time he wanted. Basically everything else on his list was doable.

“So,” his mom’s voice brought him back from his daydreaming “you’re saying you remember your time being alive?” she sounded like she hadn’t believed a single thing that came out of his mouth, but like the sole thought of something like that being possible was intriguing at the very least.

“Some ghosts do, other don’t” he yawned, a very high-pitched sound coming out of his mouth at the end “Word of advice though, it’s generally considered very rude to ask a ghost anything to do with their time as a living person or, and I cannot stress this enough, about their death. Unless they’re the ones starting that kind of conversation” Danny decided to warn them. He knew some ghosts wouldn’t do anything if someone asks, but they’d most likely get their day ruined. Others could just try to harm them for such queries.

“And why is that?” His mom’s tone of voice made that question sound like a little bit of a challenge, but Danny wasn’t kidding. It was a sensitive topic, one that even he found difficult to talk about, even with his friends.

“Because happy people don’t become ghosts” his voice was flat, void of emotion and low enough that for a second he wondered if his parents even heard him.

Then his dad spoke up “I’m sorry kiddo. Must’ve been awful” his mom looked like she wanted to argue, but didn’t really have it in her heart. After all, ghost or not, he still looked like a teen, and everyone would be heartbroken when confronted with the idea of someone so young, not only dying, be having such a horrible life, or dying in such a traumatic way that they become a ghost.

Youngblood came to Danny’s mind. He didn’t think he ever wanted to know.

The rest of the ride was suffered in silence by both parties. Despite his desire to rest, Danny couldn’t fall asleep after having had such a conversation with his parents. He wasn’t delusional enough to think that one simple conversation was going to fix things, but he still hoped that it could be a start.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #danny phantom fanfiction #dp fanfic

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wingedarrows · 4 years

Note

Do you have any recommendations for like, fanfiction for Danny phantom?? I recently started getting into the show again and idk where to even start to find that good content that expands upon or fixes aspects of the show. If you have any recommendations, let us hear it please! :)

Oh man see the thing is I only recently started reading dp fics again too and the last time I did was literal years ago, so while I KNOW some good ones are around, I can't recall any specific ones. Not to mention the last time I read them it was so long ago it was on FFN and not AO3 and I don't know if any would've been crossposted . . .

As I go through them I could mention the ones I end up really liking, though!

. . . Ended up looking through FFN anyway and why are all my favorites dp fics crossovers. How were there even so many danny phantom/detective conan crossovers in the first place. Couple crossovers with gravity falls too but it's been to long to remember what they were like.

From a couple posts that recommended some fics, I do remember Lab Rat by AnneriaWings (can't find it crossposted to AO3 so I guess it's just on FFN, word count is 21k). I also remember not finishing it cuz I was on a big dp-angst-reading-spree when I found it and part way through Lab Rat I was like TOO MUCH ANGST. It's one of the iconic vivisection fics (parents, not GIW). I should try reading it again now that I'm not on an angst reading spree/am older . . .

I think I remember Time Masters Apprentice by RaeSoul (also FFN) too, though I don't remember much of the plot itself. But here's the description: "Danny died and became full ghost and is now working as Clockwork's Apprentice. When Clockwork see's trouble in the Human Realm two years later, he sends Danny back into Casper High as a new student named Daniel Time. But trying to hide his true identity and stop the rising threat is no easy task." 129k words.

Ah, I wish I could be more help but this is all I've got for now. I'll mention fics that I end up liking as I go through them, though!

#self #anonymous #answered #hey it was 2004-2007 is it really a surprise most of the fics were on ffn #ao3 didn't even exist yet

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prfctparis · 9 months

Text

I’d Give You My Lungs So You Could Breathe (I’ve Got You, Brother) [CH3]

AO3 Link / One / Prev / Next / Masterlist

summary:

Team Phantom was there, too, and they did not sign up for this family drama.

a/n:

“ch3 will be up in a few days,” i said, like a lying liar who lies. i meant to!!! but then i sort of forgot and then got distracted by another fic i’m in the middle of writing mlmao oops. so i won’t promise or say when ch4 will be up, bc this was the last of my already written chapters from ao3 & my update schedule is of the 'when i can and want to' variety. hope u guys on tumblr enjoy this chapter!! :)

warnings for the entire fic:

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: blood; stressed teenagers; athanasia has a borderline panic attack; vivisection is mentioned again but only once if i remember right; implied animal death but in the past & it’s like 1 paragraph

CHAPTER THREE —

The secret, new headquarters of the Ghost Investigation Ward was in upstate New York. The Wayne Manor was in Gotham City, New Jersey. The travel from Point A to Point B was about three hours and forty minutes long – a much longer drive than any of them wanted. But with Manson’s magic, the van stayed invisible to the human eye and Wesley was able to speed down the roads without cops chasing after them, cutting down the travel time immensely.

Still, it was a risk.

But stopping some place before they got to Gotham was also a risk. One Athanasia refused to take.

Maybe if Ra’s al Ghul hadn’t been there, would she allow them to stop at a roadside motel or something. But he was there. He had been in the room where they were operating on Danny. Mother had one of her servants save Danny from death eight years ago to get him out of the League, allowing Grandfather to believe he was dead, but now he knew.

And Athanasia wasn’t going to let that man get anywhere near close to her twin brother again. So, they weren’t going to stop until they made it to Wayne Manor.

The others weren’t happy about it. She didn’t care.

Of course, that didn’t mean she was happy about it, either.

Believe her, she wanted to stop sooner. She wanted to get to a place where they could properly take care of Danny’s injuries, and give him what he needed to heal, and take those damn power repressing cuffs off. All they could do was make sure the bandages on his chest stayed put and kept too much blood from bleeding out, and made sure that he didn’t die on the way to the manor, which was more difficult than Athanasia would like, seeing as though, as Phantom, he didn’t have a heartbeat.

Eventually, they got the cuffs off. It took a while, and it was mostly done by Foley and Gray, because Athanasia was busy bandaging her own wounds with the limited supplies in the van, and Manson was focused on keeping the van invisible while Wesley drove. They succeeded, though. Once both cuffs were off, a ring of light appeared around him and with a flash he had black hair again, and green blood turned red.

His healing factor didn’t kick in.

“What do you mean he isn’t healing?” Wesley asked, worried, when Foley informed them. “He should be.”

“I don’t know,” Foley said, tone unsure and worried.

“But he has a heartbeat now, right?” asked Athanasia. She kept her eyes on her thigh as she bandaged a wound on there. It wasn’t the best, and she didn’t have anything to clean the wound with, but it would have to do for now.

Gray replied, “Yeah. He’s got one.”

“Okay. Good.” It was the only thing she could get herself to say. The possibility of still being too late to save him, even with him now away from the GIW and LoA, put a restrictive weight on her chest. It lessened with Gray’s affirmation, but not much.

They made it to Gotham in just under two hours and fifteen minutes.

Athanasia only got a split second glimpse of the city’s poorly lit up welcome sign with how fast Wesley continued to drive. Truly a speed demon; he didn’t even slow down when they got into the city’s limits.

As they crossed one intersection, a car with goons hanging out of the windows holding guns sped through it behind them, with what looked to be Red Robin and Spoiler on motorcycles on their tail. Three cops sped through right after. Gun shots rang out as they disappeared behind a building.

“Watch out for vigilantes,” she said. “It’s around the time most start coming out.”

Wesley shook his head. “I can’t imagine having more than one vigilante.”

Gray pointedly cleared her throat.

“I can’t imagine having more than two vigilantes.”

She hummed. “Forget about me again and see what happens.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Athanasia laughed quietly to herself. It wasn’t quiet enough, because he still heard and gave her the stink eye. It was hardly intimidating

Foley hissing made her look into the back seats. He was shaking his left hand, expression a grimace of pain, as he hurriedly passed the vial of liquid Athanasia had taken from the IV to Gray. Gray took it just as fast, twisting the lid back on.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Athanasia asked.

“They were putting that in his system?” The grimace turned into panic when she nodded. “Oh, that’s not good. That is so not good. That has blood blossoms in it.”

“What?!” Gray exclaimed. “That can kill him!”

Athanasia shifted so she sat sideways in the front seat. “What are blood blossoms?” Her eyes flicked to Danny – his chest slowly rose up and down – and then back to Foley.

“They can kill ghosts,” Wesley said gravely.

Foley explained, “They’re a blood red flower, have purple stems – humans can eat them. But for ghosts, they cause extreme pain and make them go powerless. Exposed to enough of it, they die. To people like me and Sam, who aren’t ghosts but have been exposed to ectoplasm for years, it just burns us. Like we touched a hot stove, or something.” He motioned to the vial. “That just felt like bee sting for me, but to Danny? It probably feels like he’s being slowly burned from the inside out.”

“It sounds like they made an oil from blood blossoms and diluted it until it wasn’t so strong,” Gray said.

“Strong enough to render him powerless, but weak enough to not kill him after long exposure,” Athanasia said, and the two of them nodded.

“Sounds like it.”

“That may be why he isn’t healing fast like he should,” Wesley suggested.

Foley cursed again. “This is so not good. We need to get it out of his system, like, yesterday.”

“How do we do that?”

Silence stretched between them.

Athanasia’s brows furrowed, incredulous and frustrated. And scared. “You don’t know?” she demanded.

“It– It’s never been in his bloodstream before!” Foley defended. “He’s only been near the flowers, so we just…moved him away from them. Or them from him. This is… We’ve never dealt with this before!”

“But you should have at least had a contingency plan for this,” she bit back. “Oils from flowers and plants are common!”

“We never thought the GIW would be smart enough for that!”

“Well, you should have!”

“Hey!” Gray shouted over them, “Enough! This isn’t helping Danny. Let’s just get to your dad’s place, yeah?”

Athanasia turned back around without another word. The movement pulled at her injuries, maybe even reopened the wound on her side, but she ignored them as she got out her communicator.

No one spoke for a few seconds.

“The device you are using to block the signals…” she started.

“I already said no,” Foley muttered, tone clipped. “It’s blocking his ecto-signature, too. I’m not risking unblocking it just so you can make a call.”

“You didn’t risk stopping, Ana,” Wesley said before she could respond. “Let us not risk this.”

There was a tightness in her throat that had been building up for the last ten minutes. It kept her from speaking; if she wanted to or even had a response, she couldn’t say it. She worked her jaw, ignoring the stinging in her eyes.

One brother was behind her near death, with a large incision that needed to be stitched. Her other brother was out in the city fighting crime, who knows in what type of danger in the crime capital of America.

She just wanted to know that at least one of them was okay.

It was as they went through another intersection, barely making it through a green light, when she noticed an unmistakable large, black shadow swing from one side of the road to the next.

“Stop the van,” she choked out.

“But–”

“Stop the van!”

Wesley slammed on the breaks. The ones in the back went tumbling, and she heard Manson let out a curse, concentration on the van’s invisibility broken after over two hours.

Athanasia got out of the van as fast as possible. She raced to the other side of the road and climbed skillfully up the fire escape on the side of a building. As she got to the roof, she spotted the figure speaking to another – red and black – in the shadows.

“Batman!”

Both figures turned. She dimly registered that the person Batman had been speaking to was Red Hood.

“Yes? What is it?” Batman questioned as he stepped forward.

Red Hood followed. The way his helmet tilted a little told her he recognized her. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Athanasia made it halfway across the roof before she faltered. Her father was…an imposing man. If she hadn’t grown up in the place she did, she would probably be fearful of him because of it. Instead it just caught her off guard. Seeing him in person, up close, was…

Well. Unexpected.

She blinked and forced herself to stay on track. To not get distracted. She stopped a few or so feet away, wary to get too close. “We need your help,” she started off with. “My…acquaintances and I – we have someone who needs medical attention that only the Batcave will be able to provide for, and I need you to take us there.”

“The Batcave,” he repeated.

“Yes. A regular hospital is out of the question.” Her eyes flickered around the roof. Something wasn’t right. “I would take him there myself but I do not know where it is.”

What wasn’t right?

“I have no idea who you are. You aren’t authorized to go to the Batcave.”

“You would make an exception for us.”

“You sound sure.”

“Because I am. Just help us help him!”

“Who is ‘him’?”

“B, I don’t think it’s time for an interrogation right now,” Red Hood said.

“My…” Athanasia stilled. She knew what wasn’t right. Her entire body tensed. “Where’s Robin?”

Her father’s posture changed. Right; Batman was protective of Robin.

But as his older sister, so was she.

“Out,” he said. “Listen, you’re injured, and I understand you need help but–”

“What do you mean ‘out’? As in patrolling? Out of town? Country? Earth itself?”

Red Hood took a step towards her. “Whoa, kid, relax. It’s okay–”

“Where Robin is isn’t your business–”

Red Hood muttered a curse.

“Not my business?” she seethed. “Knowing where he is, is most definitely my business. I am not asking for dental records – it’s a simple answer to a simple question.”

“I–”

“My twin brother is dying in the backseat of a van, and my little brother is not by our father’s side like I thought he would be, so please just tell me where he is so I know at least one of them will be okay! I–”

“Hey! Hey,” Red Hood interrupted. “Robin is okay! He’s okay, alright? I promise. He twisted his ankle pretty badly the other night and the old man benched him until it’s healed. That’s all. You can breathe, kid.”

“I am.” Barely. It felt like she had been running for hours. She was out of breath; her intake of air had increased in the past few minutes. Her throat was back to being tight, but so was her chest, this time.

“Yes, you are, but your breathing is too fast,” Red Hood said. “You need to slow down–”

“There is no time to slow down!” she shouted. Her feet moved backwards when Red Hood tried to come closer to her. “I had the GPS taking us to the manor, but it’s worse off than we thought, and I would take him to the Batcave if I knew where it was–”

“How many of you are there?”

Athanasia blinked rapidly. Out of surprise, not because she was about to cry. She snapped her eyes back up to her father. “What?”

“You said you had acquaintances with you. How many?” He was doing something on his gauntlet, a hologram-like screen faintly glowing above it. She tried to make out the words backwards but gave up pretty quickly.

“Six in total,” she said. “Myself included. They do not know your identity.”

He hummed. “Are all of you injured?”

“Except for one, my– our getaway driver. Danny is the worst off.”

“Hard to believe, you’re pretty banged up yourself, kid,” Red Hood muttered, with a small motion to her entire body.

“They vivisected him.” The words hadn’t meant to come out, but they did.

Batman and Red Hood stilled.

The latter sucked in a breath of air. “Jesus.”

“The Batmobile is on its way,” her father tensely informed her. He stalked forward, and she was expecting him to walk passed her so she was thoroughly surprised when he stopped in front of her. He raised a hand and her body tensed for another time that night. She didn’t know what she was else expecting, but it wasn’t a comforting hold on her shoulder; it wasn’t a comforting tone and assurance. “Your brother is okay. Your twin is going to be okay.”

Athanasia stared at the hand on her shoulder. It took a second or two to finally tear her gaze from it, and look at her father’s cowl covered face instead.

“I promise.”

+++

The sound of footsteps gradually becoming louder alerted him that someone was about to disrupt his peace.

“Hey, I’m going to bed.”

Peace officially disrupted.

Damian looked up from his sketchbook long enough to spot Duke Thomas poking his head into the living room, before focusing back on the drawing he was working on. “Okay.”

“And Bruce wanted me to remind you to finish your homework if you haven’t already.”

He sighed. “I have.”

“And Alf says no sweets if you have any snacks.”

“Okay,” he said, annoyance seeping through.

“And they both say not to stay up too late or walk too much on your ankle–”

“Leave me be and rest your empty skull on the warm side of your pillow before I stab this pencil through your jugular.”

Thomas snickered. It occurred to him, then, that the older teen had continued on to annoy him on purpose. It worked. That annoyed Damian even more.

“Alright, alright. I’m leaving,” Thomas said through another chuckle. “Goodnight, Damian!” he called as he walked off.

He huffed. “Goodnight.”

Duke Thomas was Father’s newest addition to his ever growing brood. The older boy wasn’t adopted (at least, not yet), only fostered. His parents were still alive – just victims of Joker Venom. They found a cure, although it wasn’t instantaneous, so Elaine and Doug Thomas were slowly healing and recovering with the help of professionals while their son stayed here.

Damian was sort of surprised he was still here. He had an uncle he could go to, and who he did visit often, but he had chose to stay. Not that Damian wanted him to go – he actually didn’t mind Thomas that much anymore. He liked to think they got along well, even if sometimes the atmosphere was awkward, or when they deliberately annoyed one another.

Recently when the two either merely existed in the same room doing nothing, or ventured into the city out of boredom, Drake tagged along. Or was the one to drive them around. It had been tense at first. It was less so, now. Damian truly didn’t know how to feel about it.

He stopped drawing and stared at the page. He erased a few lines that didn’t look right and grabbed his phone, unlocking it to study the reference picture he was using. Just as he was about to put it down, his phone vibrated with a text.

It was from Drake – in the groupchat he made that included himself, Damian, and Duke. Damian tried to leave it multiple times only for Drake to add him back every single time.

drake

hey

evrrhthing ok at the manor??

thomas

yeah

i’m about to go to bed, damian is sketching in the living room & alfred is in the basement

why

is something wrong?

drake

idk but b is heading back

w jason

neither have have said a word they wont answer

thomas

that’s sus

you guys have only been gone for what?? 45 min at least

drake

yea

barbara cant even get ahold of them

hey little d

bat brat

u sure ur ok

Damian rolled his eyes. Drake was almost as bad as Father and Richard when it came to hovering if he got hurt, the buffoon simply showed it differently. He only twisted his ankle; nothing major.

And if his back had been hurting him the past week, nobody had to know.

…Except for Pennyworth and Richard. They knew of the metal in his spine and the damaged nerves, and so he told them when the sharp aches and pains kept coming back.

Alfred insisted it was just a few nerves growing back.

Damian focused back to the groupchat. Drake had resorted to spamming it because he took too long to respond. Obnoxious plebeian.

He took a picture of his legs covered by the blanket he was using. One knee was propped up to angle his sketch book right, while the other was stretched out as his injured ankle rested on a small pillow. Alfred the cat was fast asleep, curled into a circle, on the arm of the couch, while Titus made himself small enough to lay on the couch beside his outstretched leg. He sent the picture with nothing else. Drake stopped his spamming and liked it while Thomas sent another text asking what Damian was drawing.

With that, he put his phone down – only for it to start vibrating repeatedly. A phone call.

He somewhat expected it to be Drake, but still wasn’t that surprised to see it was Father, instead.

“Father?” Damian answered the call. “Drake said you were heading back. With Todd.”

“Yes.” Father’s voice was rough, but in a distinct way that Damian knew it wasn’t his Batman voice. In the background he heard the rumble of the Batmobile. “We are. And we have some company with us.”

His brows lowered. “Is everything okay?”

Silence.

Damian sat up and tucked his foot under his other leg’s thigh. Titus shifted, getting off of the couch to lay on the floor instead. “Father?” Carefully, he closed his sketchbook and set it on the coffee table.

Thomas decided to walk back in, at that moment. “Hey, I…” He trailed off when he saw that Damian was on the phone. “Is that Bruce?”

“Father, is–”

“Do you have an older sister?”

Damian froze. He even stopped breathing for a second. Did he know? If he did, how? Was it Mother, was she in Gotham? Did she tell Father? Athanasia told him not to tell him or anyone else, and he hadn’t. Why was he asking this? Were they okay?

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Cassandra–”

“I’m not talking about by adoption, son,” Father interrupted. “Biologically, do you have a sister? Or even a brother?”

He involuntarily sucked in sharply. If Father heard it, he didn’t make any indication that he did.

“She would be around Tim’s age, seventeen or eighteen. Five foot eight, ten at most. She mentioned a twin brother.”

Damian kept his eyes on Titus. He ignored Thomas stepping further into the living room to stand near the couch. “I’m not supposed to tell you,” he said. “She said not to.”

“Who? Talia?”

“No.”

“Your sister.” Damian stayed quiet. “Why?”

“I don’t– do not…” How was he supposed to answer that? He had no idea why Athanasia told him not to tell Father, but Damian refused to break the promise he made her. Yes, he wanted to tell Father – all the time, so badly – but it was the last thing Athanasia asked of him. Even the idea of breaking that promise felt wrong. Even now, even though he somehow knew. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and hated how childlike he sounded.

“…It’s not your fault, chum. We will be at the Cave soon. If– when,” he corrected, “you come down, put on a mask. They have acquaintances who don’t know our secret identities.”

“Yes, sir. Are they okay?”

Father didn’t immediately respond. It sent warning bells through his mind. “We’re about to be at the cave.”

“Wait, Father–”

The call ended.

Damian let out a huff of frustration. He went to call him back, but stopped.

Athanasia was in Gotham. She went to Father for help. Did that mean she called him on the League communicator and he missed it? Did he? It sounded like she needed help, they both did, and he…

Damian vaulted off of the couch. Thomas shouted after him, but he ignored him and the pain in his ankle as ran through the halls and up the stairs to his room. He took the communicator out from its hiding spot under his mattress.

Nothing. No calls or messages. Not a single thing.

Why did she go to Father and not him?

Damian sent a message. It didn’t go through, just like the past hundreds of times. He tried a call, it did the same thing.

“Damian! Don’t run away like that, man, you’re gonna hurt your ankle more,” Thomas reprimanded as he finally caught up. “I’m sorta responsible for you right now, and I don’t feel like getting Alfred’s disappointed look because you’re running around.”

The words went through one ear and out the other.

He cursed in Arabic and tossed the device onto his bed. He snatched an emergency mask from a drawer of his bedside table, and left the room.

“Damian,” shouted Thomas. “Seriously, dude!”

“If you follow me to the Batcave, put on a mask,” Damian said. “We have guests.”

Whatever his foster brother’s response was, Damian didn’t hear it. He rushed down the stairs, simultaneously putting on his mask, and then ran to the study where the clock was. Standing on his toes, he moved the clock’s hands to the correct time and squeezed through before the secret door opened all the way.

As he got to the bottom of the stairs, he slowed. A cacophony of noise grew as he got further into the cave. He stopped on the last step and just stared.

Whatever he had been expecting, it was not a group of injured teenagers talking over each other to his father and the family’s grandfather of a butler. Todd stood a few feet away from the group, back to Damian. He seemed to be merely watching the scene unfold.

“We’ve taken care of him before, we know how to do stitches!” a girl with short black hair shouted. “This isn’t new to–”

“He’s not– you need to let us help,” a black kid argued. “We know what to do for him–”

“I have already seen it!” And there’s Athanasia. “It is not a pretty sight, I know, but I can help–”

“None of you are in shape to help Penny-One,” Batman tried to speak over them.

“I am!” Another girl. She held a red and black helmet in her arms that matched a vigilante-like suit she wore. “Please, just let us–”

“We’re his friends! Please–”

“We– Well, I don’t but they do – they know what to do,” a red headed boy said. “He’s different, you’ll need their–”

A sharp whistle cut through the air, so sudden even Damian flinched. As did Thomas, who appeared at his side the instant it happened.

Everyone quieted immediately, eyes falling to Jason Todd. The helmet was off, but a red domino still covered his eyes.

“Everyone shut up or else it will be too late for anyone to help anybody,” the young man snapped, “Let Penny-One do what he does on a regular basis. I promise, he knows what he is doing, and has seen his fair share of bad injuries between the eerily large brood he cares for. Even if he did need help, it would not be from any of you. Like Batman said, none of you are the right shape to help – either from exhaustion or injuries or both, each one of you looks like shit. So sit your asses down, let the professional do his job, and take a breather.”

No one said a word. No one moved.

“Thank you, Red Hood,” Pennyworth said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a patient to care for.” He ducked behind a curtain he and Father were guarding. Damian wasn’t able to get a glimpse of the person behind it.

In the back of his mind, he knew who it was. It didn’t dissuade his worry.

Father stared down the teenagers.

The girl with short black hair and gothic clothes glared harshly back at him. Angry, she spun around with a scoff and stomped over to a chair, a palm on her forehead the entire way.

“Sam,” the black boy called after her and followed. They quietly began talking to each other.

The girl in the red and black suit and the redhead boy glanced at each other. The former shrugged helplessly, and the latter frowned in response, looking away.

Damian finally looked – truly looked – at Athanasia. Todd was right: she looked like shit; they all did. But his big sister had the most blood on her, and a green substance on her hands and right side that had a too close resemblance to Lazarus Pit water. She had numerous injuries that were bandaged hastily, but not enough for all of the blood to be hers. It looked as if she tried to scratch some of it off on the few areas of exposed skin, only for it to not work. Her black hair was in a ponytail that had once been neat; now, curly strands were loose and framing her face, and the ponytail itself was unkempt.

The others didn’t look that much better. Except for the redhead. He just looked stressed and exhausted and worried.

Damian shifted a foot forward, then back to its original spot.

He didn’t know what to do. Say her name? Simply walk up? Run back upstairs? He didn’t want to make a scene, but he also wanted to go up to his sister.

He spotted Ace laying down near the bat-computer. Silently, decision abruptly made, he moved in that direction.

Thomas cleared his throat. “Um… B?”

Damian stopped, freezing behind Todd. He looked over to Thomas and glared. The older teen didn’t acknowledge him other than a split second glance.

“D– Signal? What are you doing down here?”

Todd shifted. Damian moved with him. He turned his head slowly and sent Damian a suspicious side eye.

“Oh, uh… Red Robin contacted us – said you were coming back here. I just want to make sure you don’t need any help,” said Thomas.

Todd reached behind him with the hand that wasn’t holding his helmet, and aimed for Damian. He pinched Todd’s wrist when it got close enough, making him hiss in pain.

“We might– Hood?”

Todd shook his hand. “Sorry. Bug bit me.”

Father continued speaking with Thomas, who walked further into the Cave.

“Brat,” Todd hissed under his breath.

Damian didn’t deign him a response. Once it was clear everyone else was distracted, he continued his way to the bat-computer in the shadows. When he got there, he crawled underneath the desk. Ace moved to lay his head in Damian’s lap.

His hiding spot didn’t stay hidden for long, though.

Someone silently walked over. Then, they crouched down and slotted their body next to his under the desk.

“Did Todd tell you where I am?” he asked. It came out more petulant than he intended.

“No. I saw you when you first came down.”

“Tt.” Damian muttered, “…You smell vile.”

Athanasia hummed. “And you are still short.”

There was a shakiness to her voice he didn’t like. It kept him from automatically responding with another insult.

He turned his head to look at her again.

Her eyes were staring at nothing in particular. Her breathing was a bit too fast for comfort, sort of choppy too. Tension lined her entire body.

“Stretch out your legs,” he said quietly.

She eyed him in question. He motioned for her to hurry up. Hesitant, she eventually did it. Then, he wasted no time in ordering Ace to lay on her legs.

Athanasia sucked in sharply. Her hands lifted to her chest. “Dames–”

“You won’t hurt him,” he interrupted. “He won’t hurt you.”

He was aware of why she was so hesitant – almost afraid, even. She tried to hide it from him, but League trainers had forced her to slaughter animals. Those same trainers did that to him a couple times, too, after she left. Apparently it was to make them stronger and better assassins. Less prone to weaknesses.

He wondered if Dányál had to go through that. If Mother knew.

Damian didn’t think she did, but…

Athanasia kept her hands to her chest.

“So, you found him?” Damian asked. He kept his voice low, and scooted closer to her.

She nodded. “Yes. He is… He will be okay,” she said, keeping her voice low like he did. “I apologize for taking so long.”

Damian didn’t know how to respond to that. It made a flicker of anger from in his chest. She was sorry for being gone for so long, but not for leaving?

“…He isn’t a clone?” was his next question.

“No.” Her arm lifted, and for once he let her pull him into her side in a hug. He wasn’t big on touch, and Athanasia wasn’t either, but she was definitely more tactile than he was in some ways. From what he remembered, she and Dányál had hugged a lot.

“Are you positive?” His mind flashed to Heretic. He held back a wince, twisting until his back was into her side and her arm wrapped around his chest. He had to bend his knees so he could fit all the way under the desk.

“Yes.”

“You made sure of it?”

Athanasia stayed quiet for a moment. He felt her eyes on the top of his head. “I did,” she said. “Penny-One is aiding our brother. Not a clone, or a shapeshifter, or anyone else. Dányál.” She paused. “I intended on going to the manor instead. Then, I saw our father, and demanded he take us here.”

“Why the manor?”

“I did not know where the cave was.”

Damian stared at his knees.

There was no way.

Did he hear that right? It was jarring. He grew up thinking his big sister knew everything.

How did she not know this?

“Athanasia,” he whispered.

“What?”

“The Batcave is below the manor,” he told her in Arabic.

For seven seconds (yes, he counted) Athanasia didn’t say anything. Then, “It is what?!” she hissed in a harsh whisper.

Damian felt a laugh coming up, and did his best to keep it quiet. His shoulders still shook. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” she muttered. “Thank you making me feel stupid.”

“My pleasure. I will be sure to do it again.”

She huffed a small, wet laugh. “Brat.” Her arm wrapped around the front of his chest more, and her hand gripped his shoulder. A second later, he felt her place a kiss on the crown of his head.

Damian couldn’t help but grip her arm back. One hand on her forearm, the other on her bicep. He pressed his knees closer to his body.

“I missed you,” he whispered through the lump in his throat.

She sniffled, and whispered back into his hair, “I missed you, too.”

A blanket of silence fell over them. Damian heard Father speaking to the others, his voice overlapping with Thomas’ and one of Athanasia’s acquaintances. Footsteps softly echoed as they all moved about near the medbay. They should probably go over there soon.

Damian didn’t want to. For the first time in four years it was just him and his big sister, hiding under a desk that was reminiscent of them hiding in an alcove back in the League just to spend time together. It hardly felt real. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared this was just some sort of dream.

“Can we stay here for a little bit longer?”

Her arm tightened around him again. “Absolutely.”

+++

It took a good while for someone to come look for them, which surprised Damian, but he was relieved and thankful no one came sooner. He wasn’t about to complain about the silent one-on-one time squished underneath the desk, uncomfortable as it was.

It also gave them time to stop any tears they let loose.

He eventually moved out from under her arm, and sat beside her. It took a bit of time. Damian wanted to say it was because he was done with the physical touch, that he let go. The truth of the matter was that he had to force himself to, to mentally talk himself into doing it. It was irrational, but he was scared that the moment he let go she would leave him again.

That didn’t happen. She didn’t get up and leave, or disappear, or anything of the sort. She stayed right beside him.

As he scratched Ace behind the ears, Athanasia merely watched. She kept her hands away from the dog. When he moved to lay down across both of their laps, she stiffened until he stilled, arms crossed over her stomach.

That was how they were found.

The large boots and bottom of a black cape were unmistakable.

Father crouched down, the half of his face that wasn’t covered by the cowl betraying nothing. It made Damian want to squirm. Was he mad? That he kept Athanasia and Dányál a secret?

“You two weren’t easy to find,” he said. He sounded more like Bruce Wayne than Batman. It was comforting, in a way. “Your friends got worried when they didn’t see you around.”

“Acquaintances,” she corrected. “And I am fine, I have no idea why they would worry.”

Damian gave her an incredulous look. “You’re covered in blood.”

“A lot of it does not belong to me.”

“Mostly yours or not, your injuries still need to be taken care of,” Father said. “The Wes kid said you weren’t able to clean them properly.”

Athanasia’s face did something quick and complicated that Damian couldn’t decipher. Her mouth settled into an annoyed frown before he could really question it. “Of course he did,” she muttered.

“And you, chum, need to get off the ground and prop your ankle up,” Father said. The man, with gentle hands, inspected the aforementioned ankle. “With ice. The swelling is worse again. Did you run on it?”

He didn’t want to lie. He didn’t want to admit he ran, either.

“…Maybe.”

“Hn.” Father stood. The joints of his knees popping and a quiet groan didn’t go unnoticed. “Come on out. Let’s get you both some medical attention. Ace, get up, boy. Up.”

The German Shepherd did as told.

“I didn’t do anything to it,” Damian grumbled as he scooted out and pulled himself to his feet with the help of Father’s hand. Putting weight on his ankle definitely hurt worse than it had before, though…

“It won’t hurt to check.”

Athanasia came out from under the desk next. As she stood, also with the help of Father, he noticed she seemed to be in more pain than when he first entered the cave. That made sense; the adrenaline had to have worn off by now, allowing the pain finally register.

Once she was steady on her feet, she stepped a little away from Father. “Thank you,” she said. “For bringing us here.”

“Of course,” Father said. “If you need to stay here, you can. I will even open up the manor to you and your fr– acquaintances. Whatever aids you the best and keeps you safe from whatever you’re running from.”

She nodded once. Her eyes, glassy with tears, blinked rapidly, and she turned to head to the empty medical cots.

Damian watched her, exhausted and hurting, then looked to the curtain hiding away Pennyworth and Dányál.

He tore his eyes away and hurried to follow.

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