When Danny transferred to Gotham University after finally solving the whole ghost problem back in Amity Park, he had big dreams for his new, totally normal life. You know — good grades, a decent job, maybe some hobbies, and actual friends who didn’t try to exorcise him.
He nailed almost all of it. Grades? Great. Job? Got one. Hobbies? Sure. Friends? …Yeah, about that.
Apparently, “making friends” in Gotham was harder than fighting a ghost invasion. So Danny, in a stroke of questionable genius, decided to just gaslight people into being his friends. Step one: convince them they’d met before. Step two: keep acting like they were old pals until they actually became friends. Easy.
Meanwhile, somewhere across campus, Tim and Duke were losing their minds trying to figure out why neither of them remembered their best friend. Because clearly, they must’ve accidentally messed with the timeline again — there was no other explanation.
Danny’s plan started on a Tuesday. Because, in his experience, disasters had a thing for weekends — Tuesdays felt statistically safer.
He was hauling a stack of textbooks across the quad when he collided, hard, with someone coming around the corner. Books went flying. So did his soul — almost literally.
“Oh man, sorry—!” He dropped to help pick them up, then froze. “Wait. Tim? Dude! Long time no see!”
The guy blinked, all sharp eyes and caffeine exhaustion. “…I’m sorry, who?”
Danny laughed, easy and bright. “Oh, come on, you’re still doing that bit? Pretending we’ve never met? You haven’t changed a bit.”
The stranger — Tim, apparently not in on the joke — frowned slightly, like he was trying to scan Danny’s face for a memory that wasn’t there.
Before he could say anything, another guy showed up. “Hey, Tim, everything good?”
Danny lit up instantly. “Duke! Wow, both of you? This is déjà vu squared. What, did you plan this little act together?”
“Wow, you’re even doing the confused faces,” Danny said, shaking his head with mock admiration. “You guys really committed this time.”
The two exchanged a look — one of those silent conversations where entire theories were forming without a single word.
Danny could practically feel the gears turning. He recognized that face — the “there’s something bigger going on here” look. He’d seen it a hundred times from people who’d stumbled into ghost business. Except this time, he wasn’t the weird one. Technically.
He smiled wider, pretending not to notice their suspicion. “Anyway, it’s good seeing you again. You two still hang out at that café on Fifth, right? The one with the bad espresso?”
Tim’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “You know that place?”
Danny shrugged, casual. “Sure. I used to third-wheel you guys there all the time. Guess some things never change.”
A pause. Both of them were staring at him now, still saying nothing — just watching, analyzing, wondering.
Danny clapped his hands together. “So! Coffee? My treat. It’ll come back to you once the caffeine hits, promise.”
Neither agreed, but somehow, five minutes later, they were all sitting at a café table. Danny stirred his drink, perfectly at ease, while Tim and Duke kept stealing glances like they were trying to solve an equation that refused to add up.
Danny smiled into his cup.
“Man,” he said softly, “it’s really good to see you guys again.”
And that, as far as he was concerned, was that.
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