wait, no! I just realized there wasn't enough sleepy Danny in the other version I wrote. So take this instead (if you want, I'm not your dad).
The boy keeps sleepily nibbling on his breakfast pastry as his brows furrow in concentration. It's a familiar look, one Batman has seen on all his children's faces the morning after a particularly grueling patrol, when they clearly haven't gotten enough sleep and yet still have to get up for school.
"I finished my homework and went to bed…" the boy eventually says.
Bruce just hums in acknowledgment, it seems this tyrant king is familiar enough with modern American culture to say something like homework despite supposedly being in a slumber for centuries. The boy blinks, brows even more furrowed, he can almost see the gears slowly turning in the boy's head. It's very convincing.
"Dad, what time is it?" the boy asks.
Clark flinches again, but covers it with a bright smile. "In what time zone?"
The boy frowns even more somehow, his whole face covered in faint wrinkles. He's looking up at Clark through squinted eyes, there's practically smoke pouring from his ears.
“It’s the weekend, don’t worry about school,” Batman cuts in before the boy can think on it any more. There’s no knowing what will happen when the entity finishes waking up.
The boy turns his bleary eyed, squinting gaze on Batman. “It is?”
“That’s right,” Clark agrees readily. “In fact, it’s a three day weekend.” Today is actually Friday, so that’s a pretty good cover. Clark lifts the drooping pastry back to the boy’s mouth, he absently takes a bite as he mulls over the new information.
“Mr. Lancer said I’d fail math if I missed another test.”
Batman and Clark look at each other over the boy’s head, what an odd thing for a powerful immortal tyrant king to worry over. Either he was a very good actor, or something more was going on here.
“Well then, we’ll have to make sure you get to school on time on Monday, but right now it’s the weekend.”
“Weekend,” the boy mumbles sleepily before yawning wide, his hand half up in a pale imitation of politely covering his mouth. It’s no where near close enough to hide the sharp fangs in the boy’s mouth.
“You clearly need more sleep,” Batman says. With his half asleep state he almost wonders why the boy woke up at all.
“Clearly,” Clark agrees readily. “How about we get you back to bed?”
“But…” the boy’s brows furrow as he tries to concentrate, “what about… I’m lost?”
“It’s alright,” Clark reassures as he guides the boy to stand up. “We’ll still be here when you wake back up, you’re obviously too tired to deal with this right now anyway.”
“Dad?” The boy asks as he allows Clark to herd him back towards the room he’d been put in.
“It’s alright, it’s the weekend, remember? And growing boys need their sleep.”
“Gonna be tall as you someday,” the boy mumbles as he shuffles back to his borrowed room. Once there Clark sets about tucking the boy back in, Batman watching from the doorway. The boy seems to drift off quickly once he’s tucked back in, still clinging to his chosen blanket (Batman’s cape) rather than sleeping under it. Batman tries not to think about the implications.
Clark gives the boy’s hair one last pet and a whispered “Good night,” before leaving, floating out the door so he wouldn’t make a sound. They both quickly move down the hallway before saying a word.
“Oracle, did you get that?”
“There are a lot of schools, and Lancer is a pretty common last name.”
Batman sighs, he knew that would be the answer.
“What do you suspect?” Clark asks as they re-enter the kitchenette, Clark already tidying after himself.
“Would you expect an undead all powerful tyrant king from another dimension to worry about passing math class or finishing homework?”
Clark paused and winces, “I suppose not. But he is the king.”
“He is,” Batman agrees, “I just worry he may also be a boy who was used in a ritual against his will. We only arrived at the end, we don’t know if a host or sacrifice was placed in that circle.”
Clark sighs as his shoulders droop, “I was afraid you would say that. If that’s what’s going on it complicates things.”
“Any word from Constantine? Surely he’s done inspecting the remains of the ritual by now.”
“He’s still searching for a containment device for the king.”
“Found one, actually.” Constantine walks into the room, tossing what appears to be a travel mug up in the air and catching it.
Clark frowns, “Did you stop for coffee on the way?”
“Nah, mate, this is a ghost containment device guaranteed to hold even the ghost king.” He holds the mug up and points to a button on it, “Just take off the cap, point, and click.”
“We may have an issue, I believe the ghost king has been summoned into a host,” Batman says before they can get too far.
Constantine curses, “Of course, why would the bloody cultists make this easy for us?”
“I think I found him,” Oracle says over the comm.
Batman brings up his holographic wrist computer and holds it up so Clark and Constantine can also see. He switches Oracle to speaker, “Go ahead.”
A picture of a middle aged, balding man appears on the screen. “Mr. Ron Lancer, vice principal and teacher at Casper High School, Amity Park, Illinois. He teaches several subjects, including math. Of note is one of his students,” the picture changes to show a very familiar teenage boy, “one Mr. Daniel Fenton, who’s in danger of failing most of his classes. School started fifteen minutes ago and he is currently marked as an unexcused absence.”
Constantine whistles, “Sure picked him, looks like he could right blend in with any of your lot. Either lot.”
“Also, worth noting Daniel’s father, Jack Fenton.” The images changes to a family photo, including a large man who one might mistake for Clark if half asleep.
Clark sighs in relief, “So he just mistook me for his father.”
“But that leaves us with a problem, how do we remove the ghost king from the boy without harming him?”
The other two quiet at Batman’s question, both Clark and Batman looking to Constantine for the answer. “Right, let me get a look at the kid first. See what I’m working with.”
Batman simply stalks off, trusting the other two to follow him. He quietly open’s the door to the boy’s, Daniel’s, room and peeks in. Daniel snorts, but doesn’t seem to wake. Batman motions for Constantine to head in while Batman and Clark wait out in the hall, hovering in the doorway.
Constantine stops in the middle of the room, hand held out to make some kind of sign as he looks down at the sleeping boy. “Well, that’s interesting.”
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