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Danny had no problems in school. He was one of the top students- not the top, but definitely in the top ten. His teachers had nothing but praise for his insightful and well-mannered behavior. He didn't speak too much in class, but he wasn't dismissive of assignments, nor did he leave all his part of group work to his classmates.

Alfred was working on getting Danny's mannerisms and etiquette up to par for the elites, but he was easy to mold, willing to learn, and sort of natural when he was relaxed.

Danny didn't steal; he didn't drink or do any kind of drugs (Bruce knows; he had him tested. Whether that test was done with Danny's knowledge or not was no one's business). Really, the only issue Bruce had with Danny was his social life, but honestly? In a city like Gotham, having his son home, safe and sound, behind the best security money could buy, and the best of minds could build, was much more relieving.

He hadn't thought Danny was capable of rebelling.

Which was why his son, walking in with pure white hair, was so jarring. Bruce tried to find a way to tactfully ask about it-

Tim glanced up from his phone just as Danny was taking his seat and gasped. "What happened to your hair?

-but that was not how he would have done it. Thankfully, Tim always handled things he didn't want to.

Danny smiled, running a hand through his hair, unbothered by the horror that had slipped into the CEO'S voice."Felt like a change."

As he moved his hair, Bruce realized that Danny had gotten piercings as well. Not just one or two, but six, from his lobe to the top. They were small, tiny stars and dots, and one moon at the very top as a flat. Bruce's eyes widened.

That was... surprising because, in thier state, one had to have parental permission until one was eighteen to get piercings. Danny is sixteen, and Bruce had not given any form of permission. Where did he get those piercings?

"This felt right," Danny concludes, leaning back in his chair. As he did so, his shirt rose a little, and peeking from the small slip of skin was an ink image. Tattoos. On Danny's frontal hipbones.

Bruce felt faint.

Tim gasped, knocking over his drink when he sprang up, pointing at Danny accusingly. It was the most animated Bruce had seen his son in the past week, but this was obviously a worthy cause. "Do you have tattoos?!?"

The now white-haired boy smiled warmly, almost proudly, as he lifted his shirt to show off two strips of black and white galaxy-themed tattoos. They tilted from his hip down to his private parts and were honestly a masterful work of art, but Bruce was shocked beyond words.

None of his kids had tattoos. None. Not even Jason. Oh gods, Danny was never going to get a real job now.

"Where?" Bruce croaked, "Where did you get those?"

"Johnny did them for me." Danny chirps, letting his shirt fall back down.

"Who is Johnny?" Tim gasped, falling back into his seat like his heart was being ripped out of his chest and stomped on. He was ready for children. He had the you're going to put me in an early grave act down pact. Bruce was honestly impressed by it.

"He's my friend." Danny shrugged. "He's cool."

Bruce opened his mouth, but once again Tim beat him to the punch.

"Cool? Is it cool to be running around looking like a delinquent?!"

"Didn't you use to skip school to go skateboarding and then break into buildings at night for a photography session?" Danny popped his fork into his mouth, raising one eyebrow. Tim sputtered for a second, looking for an argument but falling short, so he turned to Bruce.

"B. Control your son!"

"I don't need controlling from a man who actively breaks the law. " Danny cut in. He swallowed the salad in his mouth before putting his fork down and raising his hands to create the distinctive bat ears of Batman's cowl on his head. Bruce felt like he'd been slapped.

Tim slammed a hand on the table. "You're breaking your father's heart."

Danny, sweet and innocent Danny, rolled his eyes at Tim. "It's not that big of a deal."

Bruce thinks his heart actually may have shattered. Tim glanced at him before facing the teenager at the table again. "You're killing your father."

"Good."

Danny continued his dinner, humming peacefully in the utter shock silence. He retreated to his room to continue playing his latest game, leaving two of the brightest minds in the Wayne household utterly stumped on what to do or say. It would take hours before either found the will to move, and that was only because Alfred got home from bingo with his friend to find the two staring at the wall.