Danny Needs A Hug - Tumblr Posts

Danny Phantom/Fenton who has the Y scar from an autopsy/vivisection and in Ghost form sometimes after a bad fight that scars just… opens up and his organs fall out and he just gets frustrated and is like “again??? Seriously??” And casually shoved the stuff back in and holds him self closed for a few seconds while the scar stickers back together. Ghost Crew freaks out the first few times they see it happen (including Danny) and when Vlad sees it, he sees red and immediately tries to hunt down the people who caused it (he has a switch of moral, angst idea it was Danny’s parents teamed with GIW) maybe they try to stop him because “killing people bad” or maybe they let him wreak havoc depends on your cup of tea. Could be a dp x dc crossover where one of batfam/JL sees it happen and freaks and the Ghost Crew is like “meh” and batfam/JL is very confused and concerned and trying to figure out WHY THIS KID IS SO CLAM ABOUT BEIJG GUTTED WTFF and Danny is just casually stuffing his organs back inside while talking about something (probably nerding out because OMG I JUST MET [batfam/JL] OMG)

DC x DP Idea Thing #3

Voluntary Admissions AU

What if Danny voluntarily Admitted himself to Arkham Asylum as a patient?

"Patient #10304-M, also known as, for his safety and security, Janus D. Astrophel. Voluntarily Admitted himself to Arkham Asylum on [date is scratched off with a thick, green ink], having arrived in a rather critical and vulnerable position, both physical and mental."

Rumors often spread quickly in Arkham. After all, not much better things to do when you're locked up and deemed either crazy, dangerous or even both in the eyes of Gotham. So it wasn't a surprise when news spread like wildfire amongst inmates and patients inside those dreadful halls.

A new addition had joined the ranks of the madhouse. Voluntarily at that. Likely the youngest patient to roam these halls for a non-Gothamite at least. After all, no native Gothamite would willingly put themselves in such hell.

The newbie went by Janus Astrophel. Kid seemed anything but normal. Seemed like he'd fit in well with Gotham's brand of sickness after a bit. Then again, kid looks as fragile as a twig. Almost as skinny as Crane, creepy as him too. Gives off Freeze vibes though, oddly enough, with hints of Dent.

[Those types of comments were quickly picked up by the aforementioned rogues. Rather than start a scene, they took interest immediately after hearing more words of the newcomer.]

Astrophel's a meta, just from the collar he adorns on his neck. Seemed modified as well. Didn't look like the standard ones the super-powered rogues commonly wore. Nobody knew what power he had. Seemed like it helped him more than anything though.

[Some inmates recalled when Astrophel first arrived. Didn't have a collar the first day. Kid could barely stand and was bleeding profusely. Next day, kid looked better, wearing the collar everyone associates with him now. Some think it's like Freeze's suit in a way. No one said a word bout it after receiving a cold glare]

Thing was, it ain't just the collar or how sickly he seemed that caught people's eyes.

Scars. Kid's littered with them. Some managed to glimpse a multitude of what looks like surgery scars [vivisected was often echoed, especially from Quinn and Nygma], and others looked like he was zapped by lightning [Litchenberg Scars around the chest specifically]. Kid even wore some stitches where his joints were [Frankenstein was an insult for a brief moment before Dent flipped a coin and shit them up]. Some would've mistaken him for some sort of zombie, like Grundy, had it not been for the fact people had seen him breathe and bleed... Albeit, it was a toxic green rather than crimson red.

Rather discerning as it held a resemblance to certain Demon Head's waters...

Kid didn't talk much. He was polite and friendly, sure. Some of the rogues took a shine to him. He seemed scared, though, not that anybody blamed him. Arkham was filled with rogues who earned their titles and infamy for a reason. But he wasn't scared of others... No. Crane said the kid held a certain look of fear...

Astrophel was afraid of himself... Everyone can't help but wonder why.

[They later see a glimpse as to why after he saw Joker for the first time. Least to say, Quinn called dibs even though others would like to say otherwise]

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

In Danny's defense, dying scared the hell out of him. Living in a house of ghost hunters was a bad idea, so he left. It didn't matter that they were family. He was a ghost living in a house of Ghost Hunters whose life's work was the very thing that killed him in the first place. He died turning on the portal his parents had spend nearly thirty years working on with two witnesses to his demise. The natural response was to destroy the portal and leave without telling anyone.

He didn't get to that point, though. The first few months after The Accident had been constant ghost attacks, one after another. Danny had tried t understand what was happening, but between his friends on some level denying his death, the ghosts attacking on sight, and the powers he was developing not getting themselves under control, he was reaching his breaking point.

On top of all of it, the portal destabilized.

No one had been in the lab, thank god, but the ghost portal collapsed in on itself. The running theory his parents had was that the ghost boy had been the one to break it. Danny's running theory was that the constant back and forth and overloaded the system. No new actually knew what had been the thing to turn it on in the first place, so no one could actually prove anything either way. At least, that's what Danny hoped.

Danny knew, in the deep recesses of his mind, what to do to get it working again. He knew what to do to keep it open if he so chose.

It had never been his choice in the first place.

Danny had known it wasn't entirely safe for him when the house started to turn on him, but that had only been solidified when the portal had gone down, Jack and Maddie Fenton doubled down on hunting down the Ghost Boy. He was the only ghost left in Amity Park, so he was the only one the trackers would lock onto.

Six weeks before he turned fifteen, Danny left his home. He didn't tell Jazz or Tucker or Sam, and he most certainly didn't tell his parents. Quietly, he packed his things - only those of which that would be easy to carry - and left. He didn't bring his phone or laptop with him. He thought about leaving his wallet, but figured that'd be useful to him.

The last thing he did before leaving Amity Park was go to the police station and tell them he was leaving willingly. He refused to elaborate as to why. They didn't need to know that. He didn't tell them where he was going, either, just that he was leaving.

It was an accident that he ended up in Bludhaven. Four weeks of traveling had tired him out. His powers only making it worse. He was low on money and food, he'd been sleeping on benches and in alleyways, his clothes were all filthy, he hadn't showered in days- He was ready to collapse.

Bludhaven, from what he understood, had a much smaller homeless population that her mother city Gotham, but it was still a lot of people. Particularly homeless youth. Danny was just another kid in an alley when he'd finally collapsed.

It took three days of sleeping behind a dumpster before anyone noticed him. In that time, he'd only woken up once. Not having eaten in a while, he had no waste to expel, so his body had focused on keeping he rested before allowing him to wake up. That was when he'd realized the actual danger he was in.

He had no idea if human weapons could still work on him or not, and he was not trying to figure that out any time soon. So, before the group of armed guys who'd just come into the alleyway noticed him, Danny let the invisibility wash over him before he flew up and away.

On the rooftops is where he found the city's vigilante. He was dressed in a black suit with blue accents and a black domino mask. His weapon looked like a broken bo staff and was strapped to his back.

Danny was not inclined to meet this man, but he'd never seen another hero in action before! Sure, he knew they existed, but he'd never actually gone looking for any. No one in Amity had, actually. It was a peaceful place. Well, until he opened the portal on himself, but that was hardly his fault.

Sure, he wasn't going to meet him, but maybe following him around wouldn't hurt? As long as he didn't get caught, he should be fine. It was only for the night, anyway. He'd probably never see this man again after this.

At least, that was the plan until he accidentally followed the man home at three in the morning. In his defence, though, he didn't know that it was that early or that Nightwing - as he'd heard a few guys call him - was going home! Regardless, he was going to take this to the grave. He was going to leave Bludhaven come dawn and he was never going to tell anyone the he knows where Nightwing lives.

Again, that was his plan. Danny ended up falling asleep on the rooftop opposite the building Nightwing lived in. He slept through the day, only waking up when rush hour foot and road traffic got too loud to ignore. Just as he was getting ready to leave the rooftop, he spotted movement in Nightwing's apartment.

Now, he couldn't even begin to say what had made him stay, but he did. He sat back down and watched as Nightwing moved around his apartment.

It was messy, messier than he'd have expected, but he wasn't one to judge. What really caught his attention, though, was the uniform Nightwing was wearing. Now that begged the question as to why the hero - vigilante was probably the better term here - fought crime at all hours of the day. Why approach the problem both legally and less legally? Why align yourself both ways?

Danny was always a curious boy when something sparked his interest.

He was swift in his movements as he pulled out the binder of paper and scholork he'd taken with him. Opening up to the first blank page, Danny started to write.

He was a hero, whether people thought of him as such or not. He only ever wanted to help. Maybe he could help this guy. Maybe he'd feel some kind of accomplishment if he managed to help Nightwing.

Step one is to observe.

Part 2 Part 4

Tag List: @flame-343

I need to point out that I have gone off of the original prompt, if that wasn't already obvious. In the og prompt, Danny is an adult. In this one, as I continue my take on it, Danny is a child. I didn't mean for it to happen, but the words don't listen to me, I listen to them.

(I'm also having a lot of fun, so here's some more)

The only thing Danny's brain could register as he woke up was pain. When had he fallen asleep? In between the shocks of hurt and pain, he remembered fighting and an ambulance, but nothing much other than that. He knows that he was in a hospital at some point, but that sure as hell wasn't where he was now.

Had the G.I.W gotten him? Probably. He didn't have the energy to care, though. The pain taking over his senses completely. That's not good.

The haze of pain lessened a bit over time, though he couldn't tell how long it was, and allowed him feel other things. The first thing he felt was that he was missing a few pieces of himself. The next thing he felt was the warm air on the inside of his skin. If his stomach had still been in its proper place, he would've been sick.

The next thing to make itself known to him were the voices. Loud, obviously not caring who or what heard them. They were talking about him and cores or something. It sounded important. Why did it sound important?

His sense of sight was the next to return to him, though he used it sparingly. The room was bright. White walls, white ceiling, white LED lights, and he assumed even the floor was white tiles. Though, he figured the table he was on - silver if he had to guess - and the floor were both stained neon green and dark red. Green because of the ectoplasm that made up his ghostly form and red because of the blood that flowed through his very human veins. He opted to close his eyes again.

That was another thing to worry about. He was Phantom right now. He could've sworn he was Danny at the hospital. When did he change? Did someone force him to? How? Why? Danny didn't know. He doesn't like not knowing. Memory lapses are dangerous.

The very top of his list of surprises was when the LEDs and the voices in the room were drowned out by ominus red and a blaring alarm. That, added with the frantic running through the halls, painted the picture that someone was either attacking or raiding the base. Huh. What a coincidence.

Not that it mattered to him. Whoever it was would either be taken down or leave after they got what they came here for. Best not to get his hopes up. Intead, he was going to focus on piecing himself back together. Not having use of his limbs was making the task difficult, but he'd handle it.

Well, that had been the plan. He was alone in the room now, so he could do it, but the door was thrown off its hinges before he got very far. How unfortunate.

A gasp and several curses filled the room as someone (multiple someones?) rushed in and stopped by his bedside.

"Are you alright?" someone asked.

"He's probably asleep," that was a different voice. Definitely at least two people in there with him now.

The fingers on Danny's right hand twitched as he growled a soft "No," to answer the question.

"Shit!" a third person swore.

"You mean he's awake?!" a fourth.

Damn. There are a lot of people in this room. If he wasn't currently an open book, he'd say he was getting claustrophobic. As it stands, that's the least of his problems.

"Oracle?" he heard the first voice ask, "What do we do?"

He didn't hear a response from whoever 'Oracle' was, but he did hear the people get closer to him. Two on one side, one on the other, and one probably by the door. That's four people, plus whoever 'Oracle' is.

"We should've told father or the Justice League." the second voice said, "They would know how to deal with this better."

Now that was a name Danny knew. Everyone knows who the Justice League are! But, why did these guys not tell them? The Justice League are heroes! Don't tell him these are kids that're here!

He groaned, moving his head and prying his eyes open. He had to get them out of here. They weren't safe here. He needs-!

"Sh, sh, sh!" the first guy started, his hands waving a bit but not touching Danny, "Hey, hey, don't move. You're, um..."

"A little bit everywhere," the third voice said.

"I k'nda fig'red tha'." Danny slurred. Wow, maybe he lost a bit more than he expected. Oh, well. Nothing to do about it now. "Got'a ge' up!" It was proving to be a very difficult task, seeing as he was still strapped down and wide open.

"Whoa," the third guy pushed his shoulder back down like it would do any good. He had leather gloves on. "You're not going anywhere."

Danny mustered up the best glare he could and sent to the guy. A red helmet? Weird, but okay. "Why no'?"

The first guy spoke again, his voice smoother and a bit higher than little red riding hood's. "You're a little stuck," He was wearing black and blue with a black mask, the eyes whited out.

There was a scoff from over by the door, "He's been cut open, he's little more than 'stuck'." Rude little gremlin, obviously younger than the others, but speaking more formally.

"I'm working on it!" that was the last one. His voice was familiar. Why?

Danny leaned his head back down. He knew he couldn't do anything while strapped down like this, and it was very upsetting. Why did this always happen to him?

No use lamenting about it now. He's at the mercy of whoever the hell these guys are. Hopefully, they're a step up from his previous company.

DPxDC Prompt:

The vigilante meant well, taking the kid to the hospital to treat his injuries. The kid mumbled the entire time, barely conscious. "No hospital, please," he said more than once.

Poor kid, the vigilante thought. He must have a phobia of needles or something.

...

They never could have anticipated the danger they put that kid in, placing him in the care of that hospital.

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Preparations, Danny soon realized, were very much useless. He'd spend a while just watching the vigilante, recording his habits and schedule, following him around and taking note of the little details. Call him a stalker, but he was just trying to make sure Nightwing didn't end up in an early grave.

Not like him.

Any and all preparations Danny had made could not ever fully gear him up for actually talking to the only vigilante he'd ever met. Sure, he knew the guy from afar, but actually speaking to him? Looking him in the eye? Having the other look back at him and actually respond? The closest he'd ever gotten to letting the guy know he was there was when he left food out for him and made sure he had water, sometimes coffee, within reach at all times.

Now that Danny was here, standing in front of the door to Nightwing's - Richard Grayson, he'd learned on day three - apartment, he was frozen. Was he actually about to do this? Could he really risk it? What if Nightwing flipped out?

No. He couldn't think like that. Nightwing's a vigilante, a detective, and an officer of the law. He won't attack willy nilly. Besides, it was too late to turn back now. Danny knew way too much about Nightwing's life to back off now.

Not allowing himself to hesitate any longer, he reached up and pressed the doorbell. He didn't hear the sound, but shuffling from inside alerted him that the man he'd come to see was now moving towards him.

'I hope this goes well,' Danny thought. Then, the door opened. "Good, at least you're taking care of yourself and actually eating proper foods. Now, I'm here to discuss your extracurriculars and how to time manage them properly without running yourself into the ground." He didn't mean to enter the apartment uninvited, but he didn't want to risk Nightwing closing the door on him or something. "I've brought my own board with an ideal itinerary that I expect you to follow." He turned to look at the man. "Any questions?"

Nightwing rook a second to process the words. Then, he said, "Yeah, just one: Who the fuck are you, kid?"

Well, he was in this deep, might as well dig himself a deeper grave. "I would say I'm your new legal guardian, but you're older than me and I can't exactly adopt a fully grown adult." Right? Yeah. Danny sat down stiffly, his bag on the floor and leaning against his leg. He pulled out the binder he'd cleared out and dedicated to helping the older vigilante and put it on the table. "I could say that you're my new legal guardian, but we run into a similar problem." Kind of. Being dead is a legal barrier, so adoption's off the table. Transferred custody on the other hand? Well, he's got that taken care of. Though, he had to wonder, "Could you adopt me?" No, he couldn't think of a way that would work. "No matter."

Nightwing, still standing by the open door, shook his head a bit as if to clear his mind. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

Introductions? Yikes. "I'm Danny! Nice to meet you!" He had no idea how he's not completely bombed this yet, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nightwing didn't move from the door, let alone shake his hand. Danny put it back on his lap. "Likewise, I guess."

"What, no name?" Was that pushing it?

"I'm optimistic, not an idiot." Yeah, he'd towed the line a bit.

Shrugging to try and rid himself of the nervous butterflies in his stomach, Danny opened the binder to the front page. It was mostly so he'd have something to do with his hands, but it proved to be a decent distraction for Nightwing, too. Though, he pushed down a blush when he saw the glittery blue writing. It was the only other pen he had on him and he'd stolen it from Jazz.

The distraction didn't last. "How did you find this place?" Nightwing asked, the door still wide open.

"Doesn't matter." He didn't think the vigilante would take kindly to being stalked followed around the subject of a kid's curiosity.

Nightwing very much did not seem to believe him. "Why do you think I have a day job and a night job?"

Did he- Oh. The man was probably holding out some kind of hope that Danny wasn't saying what he was saying. Oops. Should he apologise? "I'm a realist, not an idiot."

Throwing the words back at him was probably not the best decision. Then, again, Danny hadn't made a whole lot of good decisions since he'd stepped foot in Bludhaven. At least here, there was a chance he could get away with it, relatively scot free. Imagine if he were in Gotham? With how violent Batman got recently? No thank you. He'd rather take his chances with his parents.

Danny did his best to not clear his throat as he flipped to the next page. "First thing's first. Why do you do what you do? Why go out at night to fight crime when, I assume, that's what your day job is for? Why hurt yourself to help other people?"

Those were all questions he'd had to ask himself before the portal destabilized. Why did he do what he does? Why risk himself to help the people who'd never thank him for his help? Why put his life on hold to do the job of adults?

He'd thought he'd had solid answers for them back then, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Regardless, this was a good place as any to start helping Nightwing.

If he could help just this one person, he'd be satisfied.

Part 3 Part 5

Tag List: @flame-343

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Dick had to give it to the kid, he'd somehow thought of everything. It was a little concerning, actually, but the kid had brushed off every attempt had probing for answers. Who trained him? If he was trained at all. ...had the kid gone into vigilantism alone? Oh, dear. THat's not good fro Dick's current worries.

Reading the file Danny had handed him, Dick had to wonder how long it had taken him to put together this cover story. Also, where he'd managed to get the equipment to do it. At a glance, the kid didn't seem to have much on him. Not even a phone!

He closed the folder and set it back down on the table. "Really?" he asked, "'Congratulations, it's a boy'?"

Danny's cheeks turned a bit red as his gaze shifted to the folder. "Well, yeah. You're stuck with me now until I can get you into good habits and a healthier schedule."

"That implies that you're planning on leaving."

Danny shrugged, all his confidence now fading away. Is this what he's really like? "Well, I mean, I'm sure you don't want me sticking around at all, let alone for a while."

Dick frowned and looked back at the black folder and the binder sitting on his coffee table. God, his apartment's a mess! He smiled at Danny. "My name's Richard, but everyone calls me 'Dick'. You can stay in the guest room."

Danny lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Yep. You went to all this work, it'd be a shame if it all went to waste."

The grin on Danny's face was more than worth the security risk that he now posed. "You won't regret it, Mr. Dick!"

Dick smiled back at him, "Please, drop the formalities. We're cousins, apparently."

Was he attached? No. He wouldn't allow himself to get attached. Sure, maybe he was letting this kid - he really needs to start calling him Danny - stay with him for a while, but he wasn't going to get attached. Getting attached meant losing him. Dick wasn't sure he'd be able to survive if he lost someone again.

...damn it.

***

First order of business, now that Danny was officially Dick's - why would he willingly go by that nickname? - ward/cousin, Danny was going to make sure he got some sleep. Today was Dick's day off, so Danny had sent him to his room to take a much needed nap. The man was basically dead on his feet and Danny would be damned if he let him wander around this mess of an apartment with blurry vision.

The second thing he did, once he was sure Dick was asleep, was start to clean up. The place was a stereotypical bachelor's pad, complete with questionable stains in the carpet, rips in the cushions, dishes piled up in the sink, and old take-out on every table and counter. Gross.

He made quick work of the old take-out by throwing it all away and hitting it with a very small and controlled ectoblast. He was so glad Dick had disposable gloves on hand.

The dishes were the next thing he handed. The water was cleaner than in Gotham, so he didn't worry about washing the dishes by hand when they all didn't fit in the dishwasher. He dried the ones he'd hand washed before putting them away. Dick had no organisation in his cupboards, so Danny fixed that, too.

The fridge and freezer weren't too bad. Sure, the dairy products had all expired and most of the food was freezer bitten, but none of it was moldy yet and the appliance itself was in perfect working order. He'd have to go shopping later.

Danny had never liked cleaning, but he'd had to when his parents refused to follow any OSHA laws or Lab Safety courses. So, when he found the cleaning supplies, he took a deep breath and began scrubbing the bathroom. It wasn't too bad, thank god, and was already fairly clean. It was quick and he was able to move on very quickly.

The counters, tables, walls, and tile and wooden floors were all easy to clean with a wet rag and a broom. He wasn't going to even try saving the rug because it looked well beyond the point of no return. The couch and chair cushions could be sticked up, but he didn't have a sewing needle and thread with him.

The last thing he did before taking his backpack into the room he'd been given was to write down a shopping list and leave it on the counter. It wasn't a lot, just food and some dishes and toiletries. He'd have to figure out with Dick a way to pay rent, too, but that was a later Danny problem. He'd tired himself out and was still running on pretty much empty. So, he allowed himself to fall asleep. He'd check on Dick when he woke up.

Part 4 Part 6

Tag List:

@flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Waking up to a clean apartment was not what Dick was expecting at all. It was a nice surprise, for sure, but it begged the question as to how long he was asleep for. His phone said that it was the same day, only two hours later, but that state of the apartment suggested it had been at least a day!

He poked his head into the room he'd given Danny to stay in. The kid had ignored the bed almost completely, it seemed, and curled up in the corner furthest from the door with the blanket and his bag. He closed the door softly as he left the room. He hated that Danny didn't feel safe enough to sleep on the bed, but he understood the need to have his back to a corner.

Dick took one look at the shopping list on the counter before opening his fridge. Immediately, he closed it again. The rancid stench of spoiled milk and other foodstuffs seeped into the open room, making Dick rush to open the windows. He added candles and Febreeze to the shopping list. With his pay, he should have more than enough to get everything written down, as well as some things for Danny.

Would Danny want to go to school? Or would he want to take online courses? What grade would he even be in? There was nothing about any of that in the cover story the kid had made up. Did he just not think about it, or had he deemed it unimportant? Either way, Dick would bring it up with him in a little bit. For now, shopping. The kid had done a hell of a job with cleaning up, so it was only natural that Dick would pull his weight in his own apartment.

Making sure to leave a note, Dick locked the door behind himself as he headed down, mentally adding fridge magnets to the shopping list, too.

***

Stepping back into the apartment was like walking into someone else's home. The place looked no different than when he'd left earlier, but it was only just now settling that he now had someone to take care of. Dick was no longer alone in this apartment. He had someone to look out for, someone who was looking out for him.

And how pathetic was that? A child was having to take care of him. He's an adult! He should be able to take care of himself! But, here he is, hopeless. He hadn't even bothered to get off his ass and go shopping or clean up a little bit until a kid knocked on his door and spelled everything out for him in blue glitter pen.

Dick set down the six bags he was carrying on the counter. He completely emptied out the fridge and freezer, throwing it all away. It all had to go. The smell would linger for a little bit, but it wouldn't ever get that bad again, especially now that the stuff causing it was all gone. He quickly put everything away before picking up his phone.

He hadn't called the Manor in a while. Not since- not since Jason died...

He shook his head, scolding himself for letting irrational fear and anger get in the way of contacting the only family he had left, and called Wayne Manor.

After exactly two and a half rings, the line picked up. "Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth speaking."

"Hey, Alfie," Dick knew he sounded pathetic.

There was..something on the other end that Dick couldn't quite pick up before Alfred spoke, formalities dropped and a smile in his voice. "Master Dick, how good to hear from you. It has been a while."

He leaned against the counter, sagging a bit. "Yeah, it has been. I'm sorry, Alfred, I just-"

"No need to apologize, Master Dick, I completely understand."

Did he? Maybe. "That's- Thank you, Alfred, really, but I didn't really call to apologize."

"Oh?" There was another sound in the background, a little closer to the phone, but not close or loud enough to be clearly picked up. "What seems to be the issue, then?"

"I, um," God, how was he going to explain this? "A kid showed up at my door, um, and offered to help me out? I-I couldn't say no to him, Alfe, but- I don't! I-I don't know how to take care of a kid!" The floodgates seemed to open with that as he sank to the floor, his back against the wall. "I can barely take care of myself, let alone a whole other person! But I can't put him back on the streets, Alfred, I just can't. And the things he's been telling me- He's not had an okay life, Alfred. I don't- I don't know what to do."

It was quiet for a moment before Alfred let out a small breath. "You, too?"

"Huh?"

THe question was ignored. "Take a deep breath for me, Master Dick." He did. "Good. This child, how old is he?"

"I don't know, about fourteen?"

A click of his tongue. "Taking care of a child is going to look different for everyone, especially if they've never had to care for anyone but themselves before. From what I understand, he has come to you for safety. He has nowhere else to go, yes?"

"Well, yeah, other than the streets, but I'm not sending him back out there-!"

"I'm not telling you to. If he came to you, he will leave of his own accord. It is your job to make sure he knows he can stay and that he is safe with you."

"I know that, but-"

"Do you have food in your house?"

"I- What? Yeah, I just got back from shopping."

"Good. Is your house clean?"

"Yeah, he, um, the kid cleaned up the place while I was asleep."

"Alright. Does he have a place to sleep?"

"Yeah, I gave him my spare room. What does this-?"

"Then the only thing left for you to do is to make sure he knows he's allowed to be comfortable there. Make sure he knows that it is a safe space for him and that he can stay as long as he likes. From the sounds of it, he intends to take care of you just as you intend to take care of him. Find a middle ground, set up some house rules, go at a pace that works for the both of you. You two will grow into a routine that fits for you in time. And it will take time. Bonds do not grow overnight, especially ones that are meant to last. It will be hard, but that is what makes it worth it."

Dick was quiet for a minute. Alfred let him gather his thoughts, not hanging up and simply waiting. Finally, "Thanks, Alfred."

"You are most welcome, Master Dick." The old man was smiling again. "Oh, aster Dick?"

"Yeah?"

"When you two are more comfortable, please come by the Manor."

Dick smiled, too. "I will. And I'll try to call more often."

"That's all I ask. Have a good day, Master Dick.

"Thanks, Alfred, you, too."

Part 5 Part 7

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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

The first thing on the day's agenda was to make breakfast. Now, Dick wouldn't exactly call himself a chef, and Alfred's banning him from the Manor kitchen can attest to that, but he'd been cooking meals for himself since he moved out. Were they edible? Yes. Did they taste good? Sometimes. He'll get better! He swears! He just needs some practice.

Danny was in the kitchen before Dick was even awake, apparently, because the kid was flipping a pancake onto a plate. "Good morning!" he said.

"Um, morning," Dick responded.

"I hope you don't mind, but I made pancakes for breakfast."

"No, I don't mind- I'm supposed o making you food, though."

"Why?"

"Because I'm an adult."

A soft snort. "Barely."

"Hey!"

Danny shrunk in on himself, shoulders hunched and head down. He turned off the stove, set the hot pan to the side, and properly plated the pancakes, giving Dick more. "Sorry. I, um, don't have much of a filter in the mornings."

"It's alright," Dick made sure his body language, expression, and voice were all soft. "Not a morning person?"

"Not in the slightest."

He took a bite. "So why're you awake?" He paused before taking another bite. "These are really good."

"Thanks," Danny looked away with a small blush on his cheeks. "I'm here to help you. Part of that includes making sure you eat in the mornings before work."

"You know you don't have to, right?"

"I know, but I want to." He took a few bites of his own breakfast. "From my own experiences, not eating before starting the day can make you really sick, especially if you have a demanding job like you do."

Now isn't that a red flag to add to the growing collection. "You're own experiences?"

"Yeah," Danny said between slow bites, "My parents weren't good cooks unless it was my dad's fudge or my mom's cookies. My sister tried, but, well, she could only do so much with what we had."

"So, where'd ya learn to cook?"

"My friend's parents taught me a few things when I was over at their place."

"Cool, cool."

"Yeah."

Silence took over the apartment as they two finished eating. Despite Danny's protests, Dick insisted on doing the dishes because Danny had cooked. Then, they two set about getting for the day.

Truthfully, Dick didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to. Danny was going to be alone in his apartment all day with nothing to do! A kid's worst nightmare, that is. Sure there are some books in his room, but would Danny like them? More things to figure out.

Danny met Dick at the door just as he was set to leave and handed him some paperwork.

"What's this?" Dick asked.

"Your hour cut request."

"My what?"

"I told you that you need to cut back your working hours from fifty a week to forty. Give that to your boss today."

"And if I don't?" He raised his eyebrow in question. Cutting back his hours would probably be a good thing, but someone else would have to take that time from him. He didn't want to put that work on anyone!

Danny's eyes started to water, going wide and sad as he looked Dick in the eye. "Then I'll be sad." He sniffled for affect. "Do you really wanna make me sad?"

Damn it.

-

Danny had no intentions of staying home all day. In fact, he fully planned on shadowing Dick some more, just closer this time. Partly to check out his relationships with his coworkers, but also to make sure he actually submitted his appeal. He also was going to make sure the chef approved it, but what Dick didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Part 6 Part 8

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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

A knock on the door was not what Danny was expecting that evening. In the two weeks of observation and one week of actually staying with the man, Danny had figured that Dick, for as friendly as he is, did not have many friends. And if he did, they didn't visit him a lot, if at all. So, a knock on the door exactly thirty minutes before Nightwing was set to go out was a suspicious surprise.

He answered it anyway.

On the other side of the door was a kid about his age, an inch or two taller. He had dark hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes, and eyebags dark enough to rival Danny's own. He also smelled faintly of coffee.

"Um," Danny started dumbly. "Hello?"

"I'm looking for Richard Grayson." The kid's accent was stronger than Dick's, putting him as a born and raised Gotham resident. There was also a hint of something that reminded Danny of Sam's parents. This kid comes from money.

"And you are?"

Obviously upset about being stalled, he huffed, "Timothy Drake. Are you going to let me in now?"

How does someone sound so rude and so polite at the same time? Obviously a skill Danny needs to learn. "Why-"

"Who's at the door, Danny?" Dick called from the hallway, making his way closer. He was in his Nightwing costume, minus the mask, but had covered it with a hoodie and sweatpants.

"Tim Drake," Tim introduced himself again, pushing Danny out of the way and entering the apartment to greet Dick with a handshake. "You're Bruce's Wayne's kid, Richard 'Dick' Grayson."

"Yeah, that's-"

"You need to come back and be Robin again."

There was a moment of silence as Danny closed the door softly. Then, "Excuse me?" Dick's smile was strained and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"You need to come back and be Batman's Robin again. You don't have to don the suit, but he needs you." There was a hint of desperation in Tim's voice now. "He's been spiraling since Jason died, and he's starting to hit harder. Most of the guys he beats up end up in the emergency room! Some of them have even died from their injuries! Batman needs your help! He needs a Robin."

Dick was quiet for a moment. "No."

"What?"

"I won't- I can't go back to being Robin. I can't go back to being in that house."

"Why not?"

"I just can't. Now, I don't know how you found me or how you found out who I was, but you need to go back to Gotham, Tim."

"But-"

"Now, Tim. You're parent's are probably freaking out about where you are right now."

Tim didn't say anything for a long moment, he feet rooted in place. Just as Dick turned around to go to the fire escape, he spoke, "My parents don't care where I am." Louder, he said, "Bruce is going to start directly killing people if you don't go back there and help him."

"Why should I help him?" Dick demanded. "He didn't even tell me that my little brother had died! I didn't even get to go to his funeral! And then Bruce had the audacity to punch me in the face and blame me for not being there! I'm not going back to Gotham, I'm not putting on the Robin suit again, and I sure as hell am not going to help Batman. he made it clear that he works alone, so let him." With his peace said, Dick took his hoodie and sweatpants off, donned his domino and escrima sticks, and left through the window fifteen minutes early.

Neither Tim nor Danny said anything for a long few minutes, neither bothering to move. Too many thoughts in each of their heads with no way to properly form words.

Finally, after nearly seven minutes, Danny's voice broke through the air. "I'm sorry he yelled at you."

Tim, having forgotten Danny was there, jumped and turned to face him. "What?"

"He hasn't been the same since Jason died, not that I know what he was like before."

"What do you mean?"

Danny moved into the kitchen, pulling down two cups, filling them with water before offering one to Tim and leading him to sit down on the couch.

"I don't know a lot about the situation, I've only been here for three weeks now, but I know that Dick is still hurting. Nightmares, hallucinations, the works. He's been more violent recently, too, but obviously not as much as Batman has been."

"You, uh, you know?"

"Yeah. Kinda hard not to figure it out while living here, and you coming in today didn't help that." Tim blushed and sipped his water. "Though, like you, I showed up on Dick's doorstep already knowing he's Nightwing."

"Oh? And how well did that pan out for you?"

Danny shrugged. "I offered him help and refused to leave until he accepted it."

Tim laughed. "That's what I did to Bruce!"

They shared a smile. Danny lifted his cup as if to toast. "Here's to a couple of goblins with hero complexes." Tim lifted his cup to join Danny's toast and they both took a drink.

Giggling, the two finished their water in relative quiet, the air around them comfortable.

"Say," Tim asked, putting his cup down on the coffee table, "How old are you?"

"Fourteen. You?"

"Same."

"Cool."

"You're parents know where you are?"

"Nope. I would ask if yours do, but you already answered that."

"Yeah, they aren't really around much. I did tell Alfred I'd be gone, though, so he knows I'm not home."

"Yeah, but does he know you're here?"

"No."

"Hm." A beat. "Who's Alfred?"

Another laugh startled out of Tim. "Bruce's butler. Did Dick tell you nothing?"

Danny shrugged again. "I haven't pushed for answers about anything; I'm not a therapist. I'm just here because he's going to end up killing himself at the rate he's been working himself."

"So is Bruce," Tim admitted softly, "But he's going to end up taking Gotham down with him if no one stops him."

"So what are you going to do?"

He thought for a long minute, weighing options in his mind before saying, "I guess I'll have to be the help he needs me to be."

Danny tilted his head sideways like a dog. "What do you mean?"

Tim squared his shoulders, though he was still hesitant. "Batman needs a Robin, and if Dick isn't going to be that for him, then I guess I'll have to be."

Another beat. "But do you want to be a vigilante?"

"Does it matter if I want to be?" Tim asks, "If I don't then no one will." He took a deep, steadying breath. "Gotham is my home. I can't let Bruce destroy it in his grief."

"I understand." Danny nodded, "But what you want does matter. I know I can't stop you, so I'm not going to try, but I'm going to make you promise me something." He made sure to hold Tim's gaze. "You ask for help when you need it." He held out his hand and waited.

"What?"

"You're phone. Give it to me." Reluctantly, he did so. As soon as the flip phone was in his hand, Danny put his number in it before giving it back. 'You don't have to do this alone, okay, Tim? Promise that you'll call me when you need help, okay? Any time of day, I'll answer."

Tim stared at his now closed phone, the weight grounding him for a moment. "Are you going to be a vigilante to help Nightwing?"

"I already am."

"Huh?"

"It's why I'm here, It's why I know I can't stop you and why I'm making sure you know I'll be here to help you."

Nothing else was said between the boys. Nothing else needed to be said.

Part 7 Part 9

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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Danny was waiting when Dick came home. "Welcome home, Dick."

He runned the back of his neck nervously, slipping the window closed behind him. "Hey, Danny."

There was a long moment of silence, Dick standing in front of the closed window and Danny sitting on the couch. Danny took a sip of the tea he was holding before setting the mug down on the coffee table with a click. "So," he leveled a small glare at the vigilante, "you gonna apologise to Tim?"

"Who?" Dick blinked.

"The kid you yelled at and then left standing in your apartment as you went out as Nightwing for exactly two hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-two seconds longer than your new schedule allows."

He cringed back. "Listen, kid-"

"No, you're listening to me, so shut up and sit down." He did, dropping right to the floor. "I don't know what the hell happened between you and Batman, but you don't get to take it out on the people around you, especially not the kid that just trying to help."

"Dan-"

"What did I just say?" He sighed. "Look. I get it. You're grieving, both you and Batman are, but that doesn't excuse your behavior. It doesn't excuse Batman's behavior, either, so don't think that's what I'm saying."

Dick carefully pulled his domino mask off. "What do you want me to do?"

"Several things." Danny stood and walked into the bathroom, coming back a few seconds later with Dick's first aid kit. "First, though, you're gonna let me patch you up. Then, you're gonna use my phone and apologise to Tim. After that, you eat and go to bed; You have work in a few hours."

Knowing he wasn't going to be getting out of this, Dick started to take his suit off. He slipped his arms out of the sleeves and let Danny treat the bruises on his arms and hands. Not much damage that night. He'd only encountered a few petty crimes so it had been quiet.

Without another word shared between them, Danny left to put the first aid kit away before making a quick snack for Dick while he went to change. It'd only been about a week, but they'd fallen into an easy routine.

Dick was quick to change and eat, falling asleep nearly ten minutes after he laid down.

***

Danny made sure Dick was asleep before he left the apartment as Phantom. He'd learned, during his two weeks of not-stalking, that a some criminals hung back until Nightwing had turned in before they came out to play. Phantom was going out for an extra two hours each night to remedy this. Though, he made sure no one ever spotted him before or after he knocked people out. Invisibility was hand like that.

Sure, he didn't have all that much experience as a vigilante, but he'd been traveling for four weeks before stopping. The first lesson he learned was that he needed to learn fast. He was wasn't a genius like the rest of his family, but he picked up on things really fast. Fighting had been one of those things. Though, the lessons from his mom when he was a kid also helped a lot.

Staying invisible was easy, so was intangibility and flight. The three together made stealth easier than if he didn't have them. Though, he did make sure to practice his stealth without them, too. Being caught unawares or without his powers would be disastrous and he was going to do everything he could to mitigate the risk.

Blockbuster, Phantom had learned, was the reason Dick had stayed in Bludhaven. He was also the ringleader of the organised crime in the city. Apparently, he's the second of the Blockbuster name? The giant of a man had his hands everywhere; The Bludhaven Police, as well as the underbellies of New York, Metropolis, and Gotham. With eyes and ears everywhere, not a lot got passed him, which is likely why Nightwing was having trouble getting the crime rates down. So, Danny Phantom was going to help.

He'd heard the name Oracle from both Nightwing and Blockbuster's goons, so Phantom assumed whoever that was was on his side. Unluckily, though, they were now a target. He just needed to get a hold of them without letting them find him.

Phantom had heard the information from several goons since he'd started going out, but he didn't know if Nightwing knew or not. Though, he didn't know how to pass on the information. How could he tell Dick what he knows without letting slip that he'd been going out? Dick would call him a hypocrite and would fall back into his passively suicidal schedule. Danny's not a hypocrite! He just runs on a separate schedule. A schedule that Dick might not like, but one that works for Danny.

The intel Phantom was working with tonight was about some of Dick's coworkers. He knew the corruption in the Bludhaven and Gotham City Police Departments ran thick and deep, so he wasn't really surprised to find out that Detective Soames and Chief Redhorn ran with the less than pleasant people that made their homes and bases in Bludhaven.

Dick knew this, too, which is why he became an officer in the first place.

According to the goons Phantom had spied on, Detective Soames was involved in a drug ring that was doing deliveries tonight. It was timed to be after Nightwing had turned in for the night so that he wouldn't be able to bust it. It was a smart move on the ringleader's part, to have his goons out only after Nightwing was done for the night.

That was the next thing he was going to have to work on with Nightwing. He couldn't have a discernible pattern without someone with him to cover. Honestly, Batman should know better, too. Maybe he'll pass it on to Tim?

While on the road, Danny had learned that his powers were still developing. One of which was a kind of sixth sense. It worked somewhere between hearing and a spider's ability to feel vibrations in the air and webs. He didn't know is reach on it yet, but he was able to cover half of Bludhaven from where the ability currently sat, so he was going to work with that limit for now.

The warehouse he was staking out was where he'd heard goons talk about for nearly a week. They had been careless, assuming that there was no one out to catch them, but it worked in Phantom's favor. It was mostly empty, save for a few homeless squatters looking for some shelter, and was otherwise undisturbed.

Phantom didn't believe it for a second.

He was also going to laugh in Tim's face if the goons in Bludhaven were smarter than the goons in Gotham.

Right on time, just as the clock turned over into the Witching Hour, the homeless people sheltered in the warehouse stood up and met in the center of the building. Together, and armed, they waited for exactly five minutes. Then, the back doors to the building opened and Detective Soames walsted in.

"Gentlemen," the detective greeted with a sneer, "Lady. Do you have what I came here for?"

"Do we look like idiots?" the lady of the group scoffed, "Of course we have it."

"Well, I don't see it," Soames frowned, "Where is it?"

The dirty blond to the woman's right was the next to speak. "Hidden in the walls."

Soames' frown deepened into a scowl. "The hell is it in there for?"

The only other person of the group, a brown haired man, said, "There's rumors goin' 'round about a Spook. Comes out when Nightwing turns in."

Well, well, well. Looks like Phantom's gaining a reputation.

"You believe in ghost stories now?" Detective Soames sneered, "Get my delivery, now."

The three scuttled off the the wall just under where Phantom was hiding in the rafters. He timed ten minutes before they walked back upto Soames with two bricks of cocaine each.

"You're short."

"This is the agreed upon amount." the lady argued.

Soames' expression twisted into something cruel. "Did I forget to tell you? Tsk. Shame." In a quick and fluid movement, he whipped a pistol from his inner pocket and shot the woman and then the blond. He picked up the bricks, tucking them under his arm before taking the last two from the brunet. "I cannot build an empire without a few casualties, right?"

The man gulped, eyeing the gun. "Y-yes, sir."

Soames hummed. "The sands of Egypt were dyed red with blood. The roads of Rome are the same." He turned away from the man. "Twelve bricks in two weeks. You'll have a location shortly."

Phantom watched the detective leave with a frown. So that was the deal, huh? He didn't know too much about Bludhaven's criminals yet, but he was fairly certain that a man like Blockbuster won't like someone trying this shit under his nose.

He was quick to leave the warehouse after that, doing a quick loop of the city - focused mostly on Sin Central and The Spine - before flying back to Dick's apartment. He wrote down everything from the night, complete with drawings of everyone of note that he saw. He'd pass it to Nightwing as soon as he needed to. For now, though, it remained his cases alone.

Part 8 Part 10

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

It was halfway through his shift the next day, just after he'd come back from lunch, that the anonymous tip came through. Dick had frozen when he heard it, but only slightly because the others were brushing it off as a prank call.

"'Blockbuster's after someone named Oracle,'" Officer Diaz had scoffed, "What a joke. Aren't kids supposed to know that their stupid prank calls clog the system? What if someone who actually had useful information had needed to call, huh?"

Dick didn't mention that that isn't how the tip system works, nor did he eve attempt to scold the officer for brushing it off, no matter how stupid it seemed. No, instead, he was stuck in his thoughts.

Blockbuster is after Oracle. Why is he after Oracle? It doesn't make sense! No one in Bludhaven, save for himself, should no who she is! Besides, he'd kept all of the attention on himself. No one was able to even think about the heroes or rogues in Gotham without him knowing! Or, so he'd thought. How does Blockbuster know Oracle's name? More importantly at the moment was who sent the tip.

There was another scoff from one of the others. Did he say that out loud? "Look, I know you're new and everything, but shouldn't you know the mean of 'anonymous'?"

He forced himself out of his head, rubbing his neck with his left hand with a fake smile. "Yeah, I do. I guess I'm just a bit out of it today."

"Well, get your head back in the game," Detective Soames snapped, hitting a file on the back of Dick's head, "File that for me, then file the rest on my desk."

"Yes, sir," Dick took the file, ignoring the snickers and snide remarks from his coworkers.

He knows he's not going to be able to fully focus on anything for the rest of the day, possibly not even until after he finds out who sent that tip and how Blockbuster knows Oracle's name.

Oracle. Dick knows she can handle herself, but he doesn't like the fact that anyone knows her name. Not even B knows about Oracle! Babs had spent so much time and energy keeping her online persona from B so that she could have at least something of her own that Dick had taken it upon himself to erase traces connecting him to Oracle. She didn't deserve to have Batman on her ass, nor did she deserve to have Nightwing's enemies go after her!

He shook himself back into the present with a soft sigh. He'll call Barbra as soon as he gets home.

***

"Danny!" Dick calls into the apartment, knowing full well that the kid is in the kitchen, "I'm home!"

"Welcome back," Danny responds from where he's standing at the stove. He, Dick realizes, does not sound happy.

He hangs his coat up on the hooks he installed beside the door, his shoes going on the rack below them. "You good? You sound a bit upset?"

"I am upset." Danny, after getting comfortable around him, has stopped sugar-coating his words, being brutally honest. Dick blinks. "I was going to message Tim, but I saw a lack of apologies from you."

Oh. Dick had meant to do what Danny said last night and apologise to that Tim kid for snapping at him, but he had been a lot more tired than usual and it had slipped his mind. "I was going to use my phone?"

"You don't have his number."

Another thing Dick had come to learn about Danny in the few weeks they'd been living together was that he can't be lied to. He somehow picks up on lies, so even Dick's best efforts - that have fooled even Batman! - are always thwarted.

"I meant to," Dick said, sitting on one of the new barstools at he island counter, "But I was really tired last night."

Danny sighed. "Because you were out longer than you're now used to." He turned the burner off, moving the pan to sit on the hotpad beside it. "You're body's gotten used to only being out for eight hours during the day and six hours at night. You going out for eight hours last night wore you out more than usual because you're no longer used to your seventeen hour work days."

Dick tilted his head, accepting the bowl of soup he was given. "But it's only been a few weeks?"

"It only takes eighteen days for your body to get used to a routine." He said, placing a bowl of homemade rolls on the island. "After about sixty-six days, it becomes habitual."

"But it hasn't been sixty-six days."

"No, but it has been twenty-one days."

He hesitated for a moment. "Has it really been only that long?" Then, "Have you been counting?"

Danny blushed, sitting beside Dick with his own bowl of soup. "I've been keeping track of your schedule, which means I gotta keep a calendar. I haven't been counting on purpose."

Dick smiled, eating the soup. As usual, it was really good. The first week of Danny's stay, he'd asked where he'd learned to cook, but Danny had given a non-answer, saying only that his parents couldn't make anything edible that wasn't fudge or cookies.

After they had both finished eating, Dick's portions and appetite being larger than Danny's because of the calories he burns as Nightwing, they settled into a nice quiet. Dick had changed from his uniform into sweats and a T-shirt while Danny had chosen a movie. Then, Dick cleaned up dinner and Danny changed into a hoodie and sweats.

"We still need to take you shopping," Dick pointed out when they were both sitting on the couch, ready to start the movie.

Danny shook his head. "Letting me stay here is already enough. Besides, your old clothes work perfectly fine."

"But you're room's so empty! And my clothes don't even fit you!"

There was a pause like Danny was thinking. Dick had the feeling he might not like whatever was going to be said next.

He was right.

"I'll let you take me shopping next week," Danny agreed, "if we go to Gotham tomorrow so that you can apologise to Tim in person."

Dick's jaw twitched. He didn't want to go to Gotham. Going to Gotham meant that he'd inevitably run into Bruce. He wanted to stay far away from that man.

Then again, he'd promised Alfred to come by some time. And, it'd be nice to see Barbra and Jim again. Maybe he could have Alfred make sure Bruce wouldn't be in the Manor?

"So?" Danny promted.

He sighed. "You're evil, y'know that?"

His grin said it all. "I could be so much worse."

"Please don't."

"Don't give me a reason."

Part 9 Part 11

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

"Hey, Babs,"

"Dick? It's late, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!"

"I'm about to go on patrol, D, can this wait?"

A sigh. "No."

"What's wrong?"

"Blockbuster's after Oracle."

***

Gotham Proper is a thirty-three minute drive from Bludhaven. The drive to Bristol from Bludhaven is a fifty-one minute drive through Drescher, Burnside, Sumerset, Victoria Place, and Little Stockton before crossing the bridge over Gotham River into Bristol. Gotham Proper is made of four islands connected to each other and the mainland via several bridges. Technically, all of those cities and towns - as well as Charon and Brentwood - are sister cities like Bludhaven, but everyone counts them as a part of Gotham anyway.

Dick spent the entire drive alternating between sulking and panicking.

Danny would know. Ghosts, as he's come to understand, are beings made of emotion, meaning that he can sense emotions better than living beings. Though, he didn't need an empth ability to read the air around Dick.

'What if something happens while we're gone?" Dick asked for the nth time in the past few minutes, "What if Brutale decides to blow something up while I'm gone? What if Blockbuster starts something big?"

"Bigger than what he's already doing?" Danny didn't bother to look up from his conversation with Tim. "The fact that you can't even name specific examples proves that you're not actually worried about Blockbuster or Brutale."

"I'm worried about Brutale blowing something up, thank you very much."

"Yeah, 'something'. Who even is Brutale anyway? I don't think I know that name."

"No one you need to worry about." He moved into the right lane.

Danny turned his phone off and set it face down on his leg. "What are you really worried about, Dick? I've known you for five weeks now, and I've never seen you this worried about anything."

"You've known me for three weeks."

"No, you've known me for three weeks. I've known you for five weeks. And don't change the subject."

Dick sighed, running his left hand through his hair before dropping it back onto the steering wheel.

"Is it Bruce?"

"...yeah."

"You know he's at work, right?"

"Yeah, I- How do you know that?"

He waved his phone a bit. "I checked with Tim. So, it's just going to be Tim and Alfred at the Manor when we get there."

"You know Alfred?"

"I know of Alfred." Danny slapped his right shoulder, "Stop trying to change the subject!"

"I can't help it! Deflecting has worked pretty damn well for me up until this point!"

"Oh, yeah? Against who?"

"Literally everyone!"

"Everyone?"

A beat. "Okay, so maybe only most people, but that's not the point!"

"Doesn't matter what your point is because we're going back to talking about mine!" He huffed. "If you don't want to go straight to Wayne Manor, then stop by somewhere else. You had to have gained at least one friend in Gotham before you moved to Bludhaven."

Dick paused for a moment, eyeing the signs. They'd only been driving for twenty minutes. He could hang a right just before Sumerset to cross the New Trigate Bridge into Arkham Island, take another right onto Midtown and drive to Old Gotham to meet Babs/. Yeah, that'd be nice. But, the detour would increase the chance of running into Bruce later on in the day. Maybe he could have Bab's drive to the Manor?

"Is it too late to turn around?"

"Yes."

"Why are you even so insistent on going? You don't know anyone in Gotham!"

"I know Tim!" He argued. "Besides, healthy relationships are good in this kind of work."

Dick raised his eyebrow, glancing at Danny from the corner of his eye. "You wanna second to rethink that or..?"

Danny clicked his tongue. "Look, I know you don't want to talk to Bruce, and I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to apologize to Tim for snapping at him. If you end up with better relations here in Gotham, then that only works in your favor."

Dick groaned, ditching the turn onto New Trigate and continuing on through Sumerset. "Fine! But we're leaving before Bruce gets back. I can't stand him right now."

Danny smiled, a sad look in his eye. "Alright."

He knew very well that Dick's relationship was near irreparable. From what he'd gathered, from either overhearing or snooping, Bruce had been a pretty good dad and boss to Dick up until he'd turned seventeen. He hung up the Robin mantle when he was eighteen, appearing as Nightwing when he was nineteen. Bruce, apparently, hadn't taken this very well, but copped, adopint ong Jason Todd when Dick was twenty years old, giving him the Robin mantle a few months later.

According to Dick, when Jason was killed, he'd been off world. Bruce hadn't even called him to inform him, let alone tell him about the funeral. And, when Dick got back and heard what happened from Batgirl, he'd confronted Batman in the Batcave. Batman, apparently, though he's inclined to Dick's side, punched him the face and shifted the blame.

Danny doesn't blame Dick for being angry. Not for a second. He can't really relate, but he understands.

Entering Bristol, there was a shift in the air. Outside was stuffy and smelled like money. Inside the car, however, was tense. Dick's attitude shifted to his work smile. It was plastic.

This was going to be a long day.

He didn't say anything. Quietly, Danny messaged Tim, letting him know about the shift. Tim was quick to respond, letting Danny know that he was fully prepared for whatever was coming. Danny didn't think he was.

Danny knew that something was going to happen. The air was suddenly suffocating, the world fake manufactured to perfection.

"You alright there, bud?" Dick asked, his voice perfectly professional.

"Yeah, fine. I-I'm fine." Danny wanted this car to turn around.

Part 10 Part 12

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Tim was waiting for them at the door, sitting one the steps of the Manor's entrance, when they arrived. He grinned an jumped up when he saw the car, not quite running down to meet them. Danny nearly jumped out of the moving car to catch Tim.

"Hey, Danny!"

"Hey, Tim!"

Dick got out of the car after turning it off. He rolled his eyes at the two kids. "Hey, Dick." Tim and Danny snickered at him, ditching a handshake in favor of a high five. "You two have met in person once, why are you so close?"

"Occupational hazard," Danny answered.

"Why? Are you jealous?" Tim teased.

"I am not!" Dick protested, "I'm just curious."

The two didn't believe him for a second. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm not!"

The large oak doors to the Manor opened slowly, not creaking once, pulling the three's attention to the top of the stairs. Just inside of the open left door was an older gentleman in a pressed, three piece suit. "Master Dick," he smiled, "Welcome home."

Dick smiled up at him. "Hey, Alfred. It's good to see you."

"You as well," he stepped to the side, inviting the three inside. Dick walk in first, followed by Tim. Danny took up the rear.

Holding out his hand, Danny said, "You must be Alfred. I'm Danny. It's nice to meet you!"

Alfred closed the door before taking Danny's hand. "Likewise, Master Danny."

"Oh, please, none of that 'master' stuff."

"'Mister' it is, then."

Danny didn't like Bristol, Gotham, New Jersey. It was plastic and fake and reeked of money. The trees and lawns and bushes were all exactly alike, and each property was marked off by wrought iron fences nearly ten feet tall that stretched on forever in every direction.

Wayne Manor, though, had a different feel to it. It still smelled of old money, and the greenery was all perfectly plastic looking, but it felt warm. No. It was almost as cold as the other properties in the area, but there was an underlying warmth to it that was slowly being choked out. Like red dye in a glass of water.

Alfred, Danny decided, was not human. He was perfectly human in every way, but there was something about him that nudged at Danny. His posture was perfect, his clothing pressed and not touched by even a speck of dust. His shoes were shiny, his gloves whiter than snow, and his hair lay perfectly. Danny knew for a fact that Wayne Manor was this man's haunt, even if the man is still of the living. The building was perfectly cared for, and he was sure that Alfred knows where everyone and everything are as long as they're within the Manor property lines.

"Thank you for having me," Danny bowed his head slightly. Alfred's smile grew ever so slightly.

"Please," Alfred nodded, "I must thank you for taking care of Master Dick while I have been unable to.."

"It's not problem, really," he said, "I like helping people."

"Should we be worried about whatever..that is?" Tim whispered to Dick.

"I don't think so?" Dick whispered back.

"You don't sound so sure."

Alfred was the first to move, stepping naturally in front of the group to take the lead. "If you'll follow me to the drawing room, I will bring in refreshments while you all talk."

Dick laughed politely, "Don't be so stiff, Alfie! I'll come help you in the kitchen; leave those two to chat." He winked like he knew something neither Danny or Tim did. They ignored him.

"Very well," Alfred accepted, "I expect Master Tim to show Mister Danny the way."

"Yeah, sure," Tim nodded, "C'mon, Danny, it's this way."

The Manor was large on the outside and inside. The foyer was easily thirty feet tall, a crystal chandelier and white frosted wall scones brightening up the black marble floors and beige walls. A pristine, dark green rug ran up the stairs. On either side of the stairs, imbedded into the walls under the landing, were birch double doors. Dick and Alfred went through the ones on the left, presumably to the kitchen. Tim led Danny through the ones on the right.

The hallway Tim and Danny were no in was only ten feet tall. The floor had become dark oak planks covered by a long, dark red carpet. The walls were the same beige as the foyer, but these were decorated with pictures and paintings of landscapes and cityscapes. Potted plants on small tables and short benches were spaced along the walls. About fifteen feet from the birch doors was a dark wood archway leading into another room.

"This is the drawing room." Tim introduced.

The room followed a similar theme as the hallway. Dark wood floors and beige walls. There was an unlit, red brick fireplace directly opposite the archway, a TV a few inches over the mantel. Bookshelves that were obviously only decoration lined the right wall. A white, circle area rug covered most of the space, accompanied by dark blue and oak furniture, and scratchy white throw pillows. The decorations all matched the hallway, too.

It was all very impersonal.

"What's wrong?" Tim asked after a moment of Danny looking around.

"Nothing," he said, "it all just seems a bit.. manufactured?" He looked at Tim. "Don't take that the wrong way! It's a beautiful building! I'm just- I'm not used to this is all." A lie, but Tim didn't need to know that.

Tim laughed. "It's not my house, so don't worry about it."

Danny's head tilted to the side. "Oh? Then where do you live?"

"Why?" he smirked, "Gonna follow me home if I don't tell you?"

"Maybe." he shrugged back.

The single birch door on the left wall opened, letting Dick and Alfred into the room. They put two trays on the coffee table, one with different snack foods and the other with a few drinks. Alfred was quick to leave the room again.

"Welp," Dick clapped, "I'll leave you two in here to talk. I'm going to-" Danny leveled a glare at him. "-sit here and join your conversation."

Tim stared between the two for a second before laughing again. "Dude! You have to teach me how to do that!"

"Why? Think it'll work on Bruce-man?" That got both Tim and Dick laughing.

"Only one way to find out."

Danny laughed along with them for a few moments before sighing. "I hate to ruin the moment, but I did drag Dick here for a reason." He stepped back a few feet, motioning to Dick.

"Er- Right." Dick cleared his throat. "Tim, I'm sorry for yelling at you when you stopped by Bludhaven."

Tim blinked, giving Danny the impression that he was not used to apologies and the like. Hm. That'll have to change. "It's, um, okay?"

"Great-!"

"No it's not." Danny interrupted, "He yelled at you. You don't have to say it's okay."

"But it is?" Tim reasoned. "I'm used to it."

That's going to change, too.

Part 11 Part 13

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

They had planned to leave before Bruce got back to the Manor, but plans change all the time and it wasn't Danny's fault!

Alfred had invited a friend of Dick's, Barbra Gordon, to the Manor for dinner, meaning that Dick had to stay if he wanted to see her. And since Dick was staying, Danny was staying. Tim wasn't about to leave Danny to Bruce's mercy, so he was staying for dinner, too.

Bruce Wayne arrived at Wayne Manor exactly three and a half minutes after six in the evening. He entered the kitchen exactly ten minutes and five seconds after that.

The air was tense.

Dick had been tense since Danny first roped him into coming to Gotham, only getting worse as they got closer to the building they were now sitting in. Now that Bruce and Dick were in the same room, it was like the rope had frayed to the point of snapping with a light breeze.

Bruce sat at the head of the table with Tim to his left and down a chair. Dick sat at the foot of the table, Barbra sitting to his immediate right. Danny sat on the unoccupied side of the table, directly in the middle.

No one was saying a word.

Danny was on edge.

Finally, "Dick," Bruce said.

"Bruce," was the response.

As if the spell had been broken, though the awkwardness remained, Barbra cleared her throat and said, "It's good to have you back in Gotham, D."

Dick smiled at her, soft and happy and relieved. "It's good to see you, Babs. How've you been?"

"The same as usual. Though, Condiment King again!" She glared when Dick started laughing. "Yeah, sure, laugh it up, Wonder Boy. It took three hours to get that mustard out of my costume! It's easier to get blood out of white carpets-!"

Bruce pointedly cleared his throat, bringing all attention to him. "As good as it is to see you, Dick, who've you brought with you?"

Barbra flinched back slightly, having forgotten Danny was even there. Oops.

Danny grinned at Bruce, hiding his nerves behind his favorite fake-it-'til-you-make-it smile. "My name's Danny, it's nice to meet you Mister Wayne! I have to say, you're a lot less smiley in person than you are on the internet."

He hummed. "I apologize. Today's been an off day."

"No need," Danny waved off politely, "I get it."

"I have to say, Daniel-"

"'Danny', please. My name's Danny."

To his credit, Bruce didn't even skip a beat. "Then, call me Bruce. I must say that I didn't expect Dick to have taken anyone in."

Danny chuckled a bit. "I think it's less of him taking me in and more of me kind of letting myself into his house."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I noticed he wasn't doing too well, so I figured I'd step in to help where I could before he got himself hurt." 'Or worse' was heavily implied. "I imagine Tim did much the same with you?"

Tim stiffened as Bruce sighed. Well, that's not a good sign.

"Yes, though Tim doesn't live here."

"He has a room, though, right?"

"Of course."

"Good. I can't imagine having to travel with the kind of injuries you guys get at night is very fun." Here, he turned and looked Barbra in the eye. "Honestly, you deserve a prize for traveling from here to wherever you live after getting injured."

Barbra smiled sheepishly, "Thanks? I don't really come here, though. Only on occasion."

Bruce interrupted before the conversation could continue, "What do you mean? Dick's the only one of us who could possibly get hurt on the job." He shook his head. "Honestly, why did you ever join the BHPD? It's too dangerous."

Oh, Danny had to put a stop to that right away!

"Sorry, to jump in here, Mister Wayne, but I know what all of you moonlight as." He ignored Bruce's narrowed, sharp glare. "You're Batman, Dick is Nightwing, Tim is Robin, meaning that Barbra has to be Batgirl and, if I'm right, Oracle."

"Who are you?" Bruce demanded. He didn't ask because asking is for people who aren't paranoid enough to have six levels of security at the front gate alone.

"I just told you: Danny." He unflinchingly met Bruce's glare. "Not good enough for you? I'm Danny, personal caretaker of vigilantes who refuse to take care of themselves, bookkeeper, cook, unlicensed medical unprofessional, et cetera. Though, don't call me a therapist because that's my sister. Is that a better answer?"

Bruce hummed.

The meal itself was somehow even worse than before Alfred had brought out the food. Glares were being thrown and concerned glances shared. It made the food taste bad, which was probably a war crime.

Danny had been raised with manners, so he'd thanked Alfred for making dinner. He even offered to help with clean up, though he backed down when he was refused. He knows better.

After dinner, the group had gone back into the very same drawing room as before. Dick and Barbra cuddled together on the couch, Bruce and Tim took the two armchairs, and Danny sat on the floor in front of the now lit fireplace.

"So, Tim," Danny started, "You working on any interesting cases?"

Tim seemed to perk up a bit. "Yeah, actually. It's a murder-"

"We're not at liberty to discuss anything with you, Daniel." Bruce's voice was gravely, almost the voice he used as Batman, as he spoke over Tim.

Danny's eyes narrowed. "I believe I told you my name is 'Danny', not 'Daniel'."

"Well, seeing as I don't actually know you, and you have offered up no sir name, I'll stick with calling you whatever I'm comfortable with, especially in my own home."

"This isn't a fight you wanna pick, Mister Wayne. You might want to rethink your choice."

"I am well aware of what battles to fight. However, you're mistaken. This isn't a battle. I'm merely stating that I will be calling you 'Daniel' until you offer up your sir name to be called by."

Danny very obviously looked Bruce up and down. "I guess my parents were right; You can't ever believe everything you read on the internet."

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"Because you, Mister Wayne, are horrible with children."

The temperature in the room dropped. Bruce's glare hardened even more. He appraised Danny, assessing him and filing away everything he could find. "Speaking to me like that in my own home is quite the move."

"Are you threatening me, Mister Wayne?"

"Not at all," he denied. "What are you really doing here, Dick?"

"I wanted to come meet Tim," Dick lied.

"Don't lie to me."

"What, I can't even come meet your newest Robin?"

"After the way you treated Jason?"

Dick stood quickly, Barbra scrambling to her feet. "After the way I-! You're the one who let him put on my old uniform!"

Bruce stood to his full height, looking down on Dick. "Me? You barely even talked to him! I spent as much time as I could with him!"

Danny blocked out the already out of hand yelling match and grabbed Barbra's and Tim's hands, leading them out of the room. This was not how he was hoping this would go at all.

He could still hear the yelling, even in the foyer.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to Tim and Barbra, "I didn't expect this to happen."

"It's alright," Barbra said, flinching when she realized that she could hear both men's voices almost clearly.

"No, it's not. I dragged Dick here to apologize to Tim. We were supposed to leave before Bruce even left Wayne Enterprises."

Tim shook his head. "We should've anticipated something like this would happen."

"Yeah..."

The three sat together on the steps, Bruce and Dick's voices carrying through the wood and marble.

"Hey," Barbra said after a few minutes, "How do you know about the Cave being under the Manor?"

Danny blinked at her before turning to Tim. "There's a cave under the Manor?!" He glared playfully at his friend. "You didn't tell me that your base of operations is a cave under Wayne Manor!"

"If it makes you feel any better," Tim offered, "Dick named it the Bat Cave."

"It's called the Bat Cave!?"

Part 12 Part 14

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Communication is good. It's wonderful, even! But screaming matches? Especially ones that last this long, aren't healthy in the slightest. In fact, all they do is damage relationships. So, after convincing Barbra and Tim to go upstairs, promising that he'd be up in a few minutes with Dick, he went back to where Bruce and Dick were screaming at each other.

Nothing had been thrown yet. Small mercies.

God, Danny hated being a mediator. Why couldn't people just work out their problems by talking? It'd make his life so much easier. Was that so hard to do? Too much to ask? Apparently.

"And you-!" Bruce rounded on Danny the second he closed the door behind him. "You don't get to come into my house and-"

"Let me stop you right there, Mister Wayne." A few days into his running away, Danny discovered a new power. He can't control it, but sometimes, when he's angry or needs people to shut up, the inside of his throat goes cold and his eyes narrow. It's really cool, from Danny's perspective, and pun fully intended. Something about Mister Wayne had brought that power to the surface, and thank the gods for that because Danny really needs to be listened to right now. "I told you earlier that my name was not a fight you wanted to pick. I think I should reword that. I am not a person you want to pick a fight with."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, meeting Danny's glare with his own. "Is that a threat?"

"Yes, Mister Wayne, that was a threat. And you can hold me to it. I will win any and every fight you try to pick with me."

Dick kept glancing between the two. He had a bad feeling about these two interacting like this, but something was stopping him from getting them apart.

"I have your name and your face. It won't be too hard to get you arrested for several crimes."

"Framing a child, Mister Wayne? Good luck with that. I don't exist anymore. Besides, I can threaten the same thing about Batman, and that holds significantly more weight than anything you could do to my name."

"If you're not scared, then you'll give me your whole name."

"That was a horrible fish for information, Mister Wayne. You're slipping. You must be getting rusty in your old age."

"Danny-"

"Dick." Danny held his hand out to his - on paper - responsible adult, "C'mon, Tim and Barbra are waiting for us upstairs."

Danny lead Dick out of the room, Bruce staying behind and obviously glaring at the back of Danny's head. When the door shut, Dick sighed, every bit of tension he hadn't felt melting off of him. "Sorry about him."

Danny shook his head. "Don't apologise, Dick, you didn't do anything to spark that. However," he glanced at him from the corner of his eye, still holding his hand, "Screaming matches aren't going to fix anything between you two. I don't know if you even want a relationship with him, but he's right. We came into his house, so it's up to us to be polite. You may be his kid, but you are a guest in his home until you two can form some kind of positive relationship. The hostility between y'all right now? That demotes you to 'house guest' instead of 'visiting child'. Got it?"

"..yeah."

"Good. Now, Tim and Barbra are waiting upstairs; go find them."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to go apologise to Alfred."

"Alfred? Why?"

"Bruce may claim this as his house, but Alfred's the one who takes care of it. It's his haunt, so I'm gonna go apologise for almost starting a fight."

"Um, alright..?"

***

Dick found himself wandering into the room that had been given to Tim. It was bare bones and barely looked used, but that's where he found Tim and Babs. He sat next to her.

"Where's Danny?" Tim asked.

"I- He's gone to talk to Alfred for a minute."

"Oh? Why?"

"I don't..he wasn't really clear on that."

"Oh."

The three lapsed into a silence that hovered somewhere between comfortable and uncomfortable. Tim was on his bed, messing with something on his phone, smiling occasionally or chuckling softly. Dick and Barbra sat together on the couch against the wall between the two windows. None of them spoke for a while.

It was a lon twenty minutes of sitting, doing nothing. Sometimes one of them shifted, but no conversation was made.

The door opened. "Wow. Did I end up in a graveyard or something? Y'all're quieter than the dead." The three flinched back as if struck. "Sorry, that was in poor taste." He closed the door behind him and sat on the foot of Tim's bed. "Seriously, though, why're y'all so quiet?"

"Waiting for you," Tim answered, "What'd you talk to Alfred about?"

Danny waved his hand in the air as if to physically dispel the words. "Nothing you need to worry about. Good news, though, I have a standing invitation to the Manor, so.."

"Is that a good idea?" Barbra asked, "You and B, well...You didn't really.."

"Yeah," he smiled, "Alfred's given me permission, and that's all I need. I won't be going with you guys to the Bat Cave, though."

"What?" Tim's voice pitched up a bit, "Why?"

"That's Mister Wayne's haunt. Because he doesn't like me, I'm not gonna risk even thinking about going down there."

"But you'll come and go from his house?"

"Yes."

"Weird."

"I don't make the rules, Timmy." Tim snorted softly. Barbra smiled.

"I hate to be the one to bring the mood down again," Dick said, "But why were you wanting to go to the Cave?"

"I just said I wasn't."

"Yeah, but why would you ever need to go down there?"

At this, Danny looked a bit sheepish, turning to look away from the others and rubbing the back of his neck. "Alfred said we're staying the night."

"What!" Dick shot up from his seat.

"Are you coming on patrol with us?" Barbra asked Dick, her eyes expectant.

Tim grinned. "That'd be so cool! You two should totally join us!"

Dick shook his head. "I really-" He cut himself off, making the mistake of looking Barbra and Tim in the eye. He sighed. "Alright, I'll join you guys for the night. But I don't answer to Bruce."

"Yay!"

"Wouldn't expect ya to."

"What about you, Danny?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I don't do the whole vigilante thing anymore."

"'Anymore'?" Babs raised her eyebrow, "That's a story I wanna hear."

He blushed. "It's really not,"

"You'll be on comms, though, right?" Tim wondered.

"I, um.... Sure. I'll join you guys on comms."

"Yes!"

"But I'm still not going into the Bat Cave."

Part 13 Part 15

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Danny didn't know how he was doing it, but all the acting classes he never took were really paying off!

'Fake 'til you make it and hope you don't get caught' is a great motto to live by and he is prepared to defend this hill with what's left of his living life.

By some miracle, Alfred hadn't kicked him from the haunt, instead giving him all the same permissions Dick, Barbra, and Tim have! He was warned about going to the Bat Cave for any reason, though. Not like Danny had any plans to enter Bruce Wayne's haunt. No thank you.

Speaking of Mister Wayne, Danny was so ready to be away from him. Just knowing they're in the same building was setting him off!

Bruce Wayne, on TV and in the eye of the public, was a man grieving his lost son. He's a playboy and a philanthropist who couldn't tell you left from right, but he's also Gotham's White Knight; her prince. A family man who's lost yet another of his family and doing his best to move past it.

In private, at least as far as Danny could tell, Bruce Wayne is a pessimist and a narcissist. He's a man desperate for a family, but unwilling to let anyone close, pushing everyone away and keeping them no closer than arm's length. He's stuck in the past, unable to move past mourning his parents and now his son. He is much more Batman than Bruce Wayne and it's only a matter of time before the two worlds collide disastrously.

Danny wouldn't know, but he can make a pretty educated guess on the matter.

Throughout the entire dinner, Danny had been observing everyone. He analyzed how they interacted, how they held themselves, how they ate, and how they reacted to his and Mister Wayne's conversation.

His main focus is Dick. Dick will always be his top priority, but Tim had quickly been added to the list. Barbra wasn't nearly as high on his list of people to take care of, but he was going to offer his help should she ever need it.

Especially because she snuck a nervous glance at Miaster Wayne when he mentioned Oracle.

He hadn't intended to stay the night in Gotham, but he wasn't going to turn away the opportunity, especially because Alfred was very insistent that Danny and Dick stay. And Tim and Barbra asking them on patrol? They both had pretty good puppy eyes, but Danny wasn't the one who made the mistake of looking at them.

Regardless, Nightwing being in Gotham for the night presented the Bludhaven Goons the perfect opportunity to commit crimes unpunished for the night. It wouldn't take long for the news to get out. Danny had fully planned on Phantom being there, flying over to work in Bludhaven before returning at his normal time, but Tim and Barbra convincing him to be on comms presented a bit of a hiccup in his plans.

Dick finding out about Phantom was inevitable. In fact, he didn't plan on hiding Phantom, but the times where Dick or Nightwing were awake never matched up when Phantom was out.

Okay, so maybe he was hiding a little bit.

Tim and Barbra finding out, on the other hand, was a bit of a problem.

Phantom was a hero in Amity Park, Illinois for only a little while before disappearing. He wasn't hugely known outside of the town or ghost hunters, not doing anything to warrant attention from the Big Leagues. (Nothing they knew of, anyway) It was unlikely that anyone outside of the niche group even knew his name, let alone what he looked like or how he worked.

Still. Tim figured out Nightwing's and Batman's identities, probably Batgirl's, too. And Batman is notoriously known for his paranoia and for somehow knowing everything and having a way to counteract it.

Mister Wayne is already looking into Danny, likely having already stumbled across the Missing Person report that wouldn't have gone through, ending up at a dead end. He'd easily put Danny and Phantom together as related somehow, if not being the same person.

Tim, similar to Mister Wayne, needs to know everything. The difference is that Tim's need to know is obviously a trauma response. Something that Danny would like to help him with, but that's beside the current point. It'll take maybe five minutes for Tim to find out everything he can about Phantom and Danny, especially now that he knows that Danny used to be a vigilante.

Sure, Danny could try and hide Phantom from them, but being on comms with them for the night would alert them to even the smallest fight. He's not a loud person, much preferring espionage and stealth over physical altercations, no matter how much his track record disagreed.

So, he's now presented with a choice. Introduce them to Phantom despite telling them that he was done being a hero, or leave Bludhaven to the mercy of her underworld for the night.

He was never quite able to leave stuff alone.

Sam had called him a tutelar.

Whatever that means.

Why couldn't these decisions be easier? Can't he ever have a Cinderella option? Why can't he ever just not decide?

Part 14 Part 16

How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have

Batman has an insane patrol schedule. Danny knew this, somewhere in the back of his mind, but it was only just settling in for him.

"You're gonna be dead tired tomorrow," he warns Dick, "You were tired for only being out for two hours longer than your new normal, going from sunset to sunrise is gonna knock you out. I can't drive, Dick, so we'll be stuck in Gotham for another day if you pass out."

Dick patted his head with a smile. "I'll be fine. I'll vene bring ya back some Bat Burger, okay?"

Danny blinked. "Bat Burger?"

"You've- You've never had Bat Burger?" Louder, he called to Barbra and Tim who'd just come back from wherever the Cave entrance is with a comm for Danny, "Danny's never had Bat Burger!"

Barbra gasped dramatically. Tim clutched ay imaginary pearls. "You've never had Bat Burger?!"

"That sounds like an exclusively Gotham thing, and I am decidedly not from Gotham."

It was quiet for another moment as the three stared at him. Finally, Dick blinked. "Have you always been Midwestern?"

"As far as I know, why?"

His head tilted slightly to the left. "Your accent just seems..."

"Much more prevalent." Tim finished.

"Yeah, that."

“I don’t know what you guys are talking about. I’ve always talked like this.” A lie. He was hiding his accent from everyone so that tracking him down would be ever so slightly harder. Danny shrugged, “Right, Barbra?”

She shook her head. "No, you leave me outta this. As far as I know, you've sounded like this the whole time and these two are only just picking up on the accent."

Good job, Danny. Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss your way into their hearts.

"Anyway," Barbra continued, holding her hand to Danny, "This is a comm. It'll keep you patched in until we come back up to the manor after patrol. If you get tired of us or when you sleep, just take it out and put it on your nightstand; we'll take it back down in the morning for you."

"Are you sure you don't wanna come to the Cave?" Tim asked.

Danny shook his head, the comm now sitting in his left ear. "Mister Wayne already hates me, I'm not gonna go into his space. Besides, I'm already intruding as it is."

"I just don't want you to be bored."

"It's alright, I'm sure I'll find something to occupy myself with while you guys are out. And, isn't the whole point of me being on comms so that you guys can talk to me?"

"You're right," Dick agreed, "We'll see ya when we get back."

"Alright."

Occupy himself with? Yeah, he's going back to Bludhaven. Another problem he just realized, though: How is Bat Tech going to react to/around Phantom? Danny figures he has about two minutes to figure it out or he's gonna have to bench himself for the night.

There was no one around, so he ducked into the nearest room to transform. It was a quick lightshow, as always, but not enough to draw attention of anyone passing by.

Except Alfred. Alfred probably knows.

Alfred won't tell Bruce, right?

Right?

Probably not.

Hopefully.

Focusing on the comm revealed no static, though there was no sound either. Was someone trying to talk to him already? Hopefully not. That'd be upsetting.

There was a soft crackle before: "Danny, can you hear us?"

Phantom allowed a small smile of victory. "Yeah, loud and clear, Barbra."

"Call me Batgirl right now, okay? Tim's Robin, and, as you know, Dick's Nightwing. And, if you really need him, Bruce is Batman."

"Got it."

"We don't use real names on comms," Robin said, "Do you have something we could call you?"

That's probably a fish for what his hero name used to be. All three of them - Tim, at the very least - were hung up on the 'not anymore' of his denial and it really showed. He could make it easy and tell them to call him Phantom, but he really does not want them finding out his childhood right now. So, "Tutelary."

"'Tutelary'?" Nightwing asked.

"It's Greek," Batgirl said, "Tutelaries are deities or patrons of protection."

"Aw, that's cute," Robin cooed teasingly, "But you aren't doing much protecting from the Manor."

Phantom - is he really ready to give up that name? - blushed green, "Shut up. Protection Spirits are a big deal where I'm from!" Yeah, meaning most people don't actually think they're protecting them, but who really cares about technicalities?

"And that would be..?" Batman spoke up, his voice coming out much more 'gargle glass' over the comms than was probably intended.

Phantom smirked. "The Midwest." Limits options, but not specifically but he figured he could throw them a bone. Though, that's the only one he's giving Mister Wayne.

Speaking of, "I'll try not to be a distraction, Mister Batman sir, but I won't make any promises."

Nightwing, Batgirl and Robin were all sniggering. Batman was quiet for no more than a few seconds. "Stop getting distracted; We're leaving."

"Yes, sir!"

Phantom listened closely, focusing on the Cave below the Manor. Batman and Robin had gotten into some kind of assault vehicle-race car mix and were driving out into Gotham Proper quickly. Nightwing and Batgirl were both on motorcycles, leaving out a different way but just as quickly.

"Have fun out there, you guys."

Nightwing laughed, "We'll bring ya back some Bat Burger."

Part 15 Part 17

Real quick, before you move on, a quick Thank You to @bianca-hooks123 for the idea for Danny's name Tutelary. I hadn't even thought of using that until it was suggested, so thanks <3

"Do you want to continue being a vigilante?" Batman asked his new ward Danny aka Phantom.

Danny stopped, looked confused and glanced at the batfamily like he didn't understand what was asked. " want? What does 'want' have to do with anything? I became a vigilante because I was needed, because I was the only one capable. Are you Batman because you wanted to be or because you were needed. Does anyone become a hero because they want to be or because they're needed? I wanted to become an astronaut. I never wanted to be a hero and I wasn't wanted as a hero, but I was needed or the people I loved would die. So my question is. Am I needed?"

The entire bat family is staring at him worriedly