All will be as it should be part 7
Quiet ones, by Gotham standards.
Tim became a frequent babysitter—by which Jason meant “the only person he trusted to handle a half-ghost five-year-old without turning it into a science project.” Tim showed up with books, puzzles, and educational games that Danny somehow turned into competitions.
“Uncle Tim!” he’d shout, launching himself across the apartment—solid—and clinging like a koala.
Tim absolutely did not tear up the first time it happened.
Jason absolutely did not look away and clear his throat when Danny started calling him “Daddy Jason.”
Just… dust. Very aggressive dust.
He still flickered when nightmares hit, but he could stop himself now. He knew how to ground—feet on the floor, breathe, hold Jason’s hand or Tim’s sleeve. He could go invisible on purpose, and more importantly, turn it off again.
His eyes only glowed green when he was really upset.
Most days, they stayed a bright, normal blue.
Jason noticed everything.
The way Danny laughed more. The way he trusted the world to hold him. The way he slept through the night without slipping halfway into the floor.
Keeping him hidden, though?
Dick kept trying to break in, using the excuse of “dropping by.” Alfred kept asking careful, pointed questions. Damian had stared at Jason for a full thirty seconds during training and said, “There is a change your life,” like it was an accusation.
Jason deflected. Delayed. Redirected.
Until one evening, Tim said it.
They were in the kitchen. Danny was at the table drawing Gotham with crayons—Batman had sparkles. Jason didn’t comment.
“Jason,” Tim said casually, too casually. “Why not just introduce Danny to the rest of the family at family dinner?”
Danny looked up. “More family?”
Tim smiled at him. “Maybe.”
Jason exhaled through his nose.
“You know why,” Jason said. “Bruce.”
Tim leaned back against the counter. “Bruce already knows something is up. Dick thinks you’re hiding a dog. Damian thinks it’s a weapon. Alfred thinks it’s both.”
Danny giggled. “I’m not a dog.”
“No,” Tim agreed. “You’re much louder.”
"I could be a weapon, though." Danny puffs up holing out his tiny fists
"NO!!" Jason and Tim yell
Jason rubbed a hand over his face. “Once they know, they can’t unknow. And Bruce—”
“—will overthink,” Tim finished. “Yeah. He will. But he’ll also see a kid who’s loved, fed, stable, and legally yours.”
Danny slid off his chair and padded over, tugging on Jason’s shirt. “Daddy?”
“Do they get cake?” Danny asked seriously. “’Cause I like cake with family.”
Jason laughed despite himself. A short, surprised sound.
“…Yeah,” he said. “They get cake.”
Tim’s smile was gentle. “We’ll be there. I’ll run interference. Alfred will help. Dick will fall in love in five minutes. Damian will pretend not to.”
Jason considered the future—every branching risk, every sharp edge.
“Alright,” Jason said finally. “Family dinner.”
Danny cheered, briefly turning invisible with excitement before popping back into view.
Jason pulled him close, pressing a kiss into his hair.
“It’s okay, kid,” he said. “We’ve got you.”
Somewhere far beyond Gotham, Clockwork watched the next set of gears begin to turn.
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