Dp x dc idea: Haunted House
Danny goes into a haunted rollercoaster ride and unknowingly sits next to Tim Drake. They take off and Danny gets so scared at some point that he phases right out of his seat. It’s sorta ok since they’re in the dark and stuff so nobody sees him, but the ride is over before Danny can get back on and he just goes like "welp fuck this, imma dip and hope for the best". Tim finishes the ride and realizes the guy that was beside him is gone. Like the restraint and belt is still there but there’s no more guy. And Tim is like "am I going crazy right now??" And the workers don’t remember Danny coz they do this ride like 100 times a day. Maybe later on, as Tim is walking around the amusement park in a daze, he sees Danny walking around like normal but there’s so many people he loses sight of him in the crowd, and once again nobody can corroborate they even saw Danny coz y’know it’s a crowd.
So now Tim’s convinced there’s a ghost haunting the amusement park and he’s determined to solve the murder(?) that may or may not have happened here and give the ghost some peace.
((I’ve never done something like this before so forgive me if I butcher your poor unsuspecting post))
Tim doesn’t like amusement parks. They are loud and overstimulating, and remind him of things he’d rather leave behind him. But Bernard had wanted to come here after they’d ended up in Illinois. (after a much needed road trip to escape the natural insanity that was gothams night life) So despite himself,Tim, in typical Tim fashion, caved instantly. He swallowed down the anxiety in his gut, and attended the event with his boyfriend. It wasn’t in Gotham, so there was a 40% less chance of it being attacked by rouges. (Knowing his luck though, Tim was still a bit apprehensive. He made sure to pack his taser and slipping it past the metal detectors was easy work.)
And as much as Tim hated to admit it,He’d honestly been having fun. Getting to ride the coasters, and run around playing stupid games while they waited in line, all with one of the people he cared most about in the entire world, was an experience that eased part of the writhing beast inside his gut.
Tim was very proud of his disguise too. He’d made it himself! Though he’d ended up tying the green plaid hoodie around his waist for most of the day. Summer had sank her claws into the day, and didn’t release until the sun dipped below the sky. The thin hoodie would have been perfect for Gothams cloudy murky chill that persisted from early fall to late spring, was unbearable in sweltering Illinois sun.
Anyway, all that is to say, they stayed late. Getting thrills as they went. He and Bernard had ended up riding a lot of the rides several times. Which while surprisingly, was really nice. And no one sprung a mystery at him or pulled a gun on him and Bernard! (Yet, echoed the scratchy voice of the gothamite skeptic that persisted in the back of his mind.)
By the time they’d circled back on the Haunted roller coaster par for the course, Tim was a bit more confident. Even the first time they’d rode this ride Tim had pleaded with Bernard to sit in the front with him. But Bernard had strongly stated he’d be puking into Tim’s lap before they finished climbing the first hill. Tim wasn’t a jerk so he didn’t make his boyfriend sit in the front, instead opting to sit middle each time and slinging an arm around Bernard’s shoulders.
But the line was getting longer now, and as they both looked back in the line as they neared the front it was clear they definitely weren’t riding this one again. The wait time had gone from half an hour to three hours and fourty five minutes.
So Bernard, sweet, lovely, generous Bernard, had pushed Tim to the front when they went to board the cars. “Go be an adrenaline junkie. Don’t worry about me, you’ll hear me screaming.
After a bit of weak protesting from Tim about not wanting to leave his boyfriend, and Bernard’s insistence, Tim slotted himself into the left passenger seat of the first row.
He looked the single rider that had joined him there up and down. His bat-trained mind jumping at the chance like the pest it tended to be when Tim was just trying to enjoy himself. Ratty red shoes, Flared, worn, and ripped jeans. One of the pockets looked like it had a hole, a baggy white shirt with a red collar and cuffs. Blue-greens eyes. Black hair.
Tim averted his eyes before he was caught looking. But the Teen beside him didn’t notice. Tim couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, this kid was bat-nip. Adoption bait. Praise whatever god Damian had yet to hunt down and slaughter, Tim was glad they were in Illinois. Four brothers and three and a half sisters was *more* than enough for everyone. (Except Bruce. The man didn’t realize they had reached the end of ‘passive hobby of picking up orphans’ had turned full on into some sort mania. Tim mentally jotted down to schedule the man for therapy.)
Oh- Tim jolted-the ride was moving. He’d forgotten he was on one, ha! He missed Bernard’s handsome face, which could always drag him out of a thought sinkhole just by smiling like the dork he was. Tim turned back to wave at him. Craning his neck so he could see his boyfriend smiling cheekily, firmly in the middle row. A knowing quirk of the eyebrow.
The coaster jolted to a start. Tim flailed for a moment, grabbing onto the arm of the unfortunate person next to him as he righted himself in the seat. The kid flinched, but he had no time to apologize because they shot off, careening up and down the hills and various tunnels. Tim yelped, and whooped, and screaming the whole way. Joy written across his face as the adrenaline ran through him just like it did during Gothams late nights, when he donned his mask and cape.
When the ride came to an end Tim turned to the seat next to him and…found nothing. His eyes widened a touch, jumping into panic observation mode. The harness was still down. The seatbelt still buckled. But there was no teen In the seat. His eyes jumped to the offloading area, maybe he’d wiggled his way out of the seat somehow? No. Nothing, the platform was empty, and the front row was clearly the last row unloaded.
So…where had the kid Gone? Tim zoned out as he and Bernard walked to the photo area, Tim’s face scrunched in thought as he tried to figure out what had happened. The ride operator had just shrugged and moved on at Tim’s questioning. Bernard couldn’t say if he’d seen anyone there. Tim could feel the ache to solve this problem itching at the inside of his skull between his eyebrows.
Tim paid the outrageous photo fee easily. $30 a photo was nothing compared to his net worth. He bought Bernard’s too without a second thought. His eyes scanning the candid photo from the tunnel. Grimacing as his eyes initially locked on to the unflattering picture of his face, his features distorted with glee and wind blown dishevelment. Tim shook his head. Refocusing on the photo.
There in the seat next to Tim, was the half visible figure of the kid. His eyes green and empty, and his limbs fading into the seat as he gripped the saftey bar.
A ghost. Ok. How had he died? Why was he haunting this amusement park of all places?
Tim wanted answers. Maybe because he hadn’t gotten his hands on a mystery since he’d left Gotham a week ago, or maybe because the kids eyes had looked so bright before TheyHe train had started up. And in the picture looked blank and distant and almost desperate.
Tim would figure out how the kid died and then he’d put the spirit to rest. So he called up Bruce and told him to not wait up expecting him. That he’d be staying in small town Illinois for a bit longer than Bernard to work on a case.
So he kisses Bernard goodbye, walks him to the car, watches as he pulls down the bush street. The he scampers back into the hotel room they’d gotten, and zones *all the way In*
He’s determined to solve the case. Red Robin is nothing if not dedicated and true to his word.
So Tim spends the next week and a half jumping through legal loopholes, squinting at accident reports, and drinking enough coffee to have him end up on a cold sterile slab.
He goes back to the park, in search of the kid. Tim could have sworn he’d seen the kid in the crowds a handful of times but he can never seem to catch him. And all the camera footage is either corrupted, at the wrong angle, or strangely enough, tampered with. And well, Tim can’t just let that slide. He looks into it.
And because Tim’s life can never be normal, not even once or ever at all, He finds out the theme park is a coverup for a weapons dealer, and uncovers the near hundreds of deaths and missing persons that have been attributed to accidents or gone cold because of under the table dealings.
So as Tim sorts that out (sending several emails to Mr.Clark Kent, who was happy to play whistle blower) he sorts through each and every file looking for death and missing person reports for the kid he had seen.
He finds nothing. So he expands his search. The whole state. He finds more shady shit. Apparently there’s a government organization that’s entire purpose is exterminating and experimenting on ghosts and ghost adjacent meta’s. The Goons in white? Something like that. Tim cracks his neck, and sends the case link with all the evidence to Louis lane. She’s nearly frothing at the mouth over the phone when she calls him for more information.
The GIW is disbanded by the second wensday after Tim met the ghost kid. But Tim can’t find anything on said kid. The best he has is a hospital trip from some kid from Amity Park, that’s in dead set middle of nowhere. It had initially looked promising! The file had been sealed even, but upon visiting the home, the Fentons had assured him of their son’s very much alive state, who was at school. (The lack of photos of the kid should have definitely tipped Tim off, looking back. But he’d gone with less than an hour of sleep every day for the last 2 weeks. Cut him some slack-)
The whole town had seemed really off all together though but Tim, after spending a month and a half now looking for the ghost kid decided to add that to the ‘investigate later’ pile.
And then one night, while Tim was blearily staring at his screen, having to re-read the report for the seventh time, (To account for the fact that the letters and words were jumping across the screen and fading in and out of his vision,) The damn ghost kid climbed out of the hotel’s floor.
They’d made eye contact, and stared at eachother for a long second. Tim immediately wanting to ask a shit load of questions.
Ghost kid shook his head. “Questions later, it’s Bed Time for baby stalkers.” And before Tim could react he was being picked up and put in the unused hotel bed, and he was out like a light.
