Uh...

Gimme the Bats' side of it, actually.

Just Bruce seeing this hero with no previous connections as a hero and being confused when a background check provides an identity, but that identity is squeaky clean, despite it being attached to a vigilante. No arrests, no misdemeanors, no awards in high school for being exceptional - or red marks for being tardy, late, or otherwise getting into weird situations. Batman then takes the background check even higher, looking into the secret identity's parents and grandparents and cousins and the identity just collapses as a fake one at some point.

Gimme Dick seeing a hero mope around when looking for someone to rescue, seeing Phantom just flying around aimlessly when he isn't actively rescuing someone, and being like "that kid needs a hug and a heart-to-heart chat."

Gimme Jason seeing the same thing and seeing it as reluctant heroism, making him assume that Phantom is being threatened or blackmailed into being a hero - which isn't wrong, but Red Hood goes about looking for whoever is pulling the strings in the wrong direction.

Gimme Tim looking at the same background check that B did, independently and without going into the alias' family history, and just going "that's a load of bullshit" without knowing exactly why he thinks it is. But as he observes Phantom and, to use the fic's alias, "Michael," his brain keeps pulling up little facts from the alias' background search and just noting that Phantom/Danny and "Michael" couldn't be more different on paper. So, is this another one of Ra's' schemes to mess with Tim? If that's so, couldn't he have obtained a better actor? So, Red Robin continues to mess with Phantom until he realizes "aw shit, I actually like you as a person, man."

Gimme Duke having absolutely no clue about any of it because that's not his shift, but he's good friends with this guy in a different major than himself named "Michael" and he's pretty sure the guy has figured out that Duke is a vigilante... but the guy observes Duke in the strangest way? Like, his body is turned to the side (to avoid the camera in the collar catching what Duke is doing) and his head turned to watch Duke bow out of whatever he's doing? And it's on purpose because Duke has seen the man quickly turn his body when Duke has something "suspicious" going on.

Gimme Damian admiring Phantom but just not trusting the guy. Phantom always seems so shifty even while doing such incredibly acts, always seeming to search for words to use and then having a seizure when words are coming easily to him. It's just so... strange to Damian but like, maybe it's due to the guy's powers or something. Robin goes about making documentation on whatever Phantom says before a seizure and it creates a bit of a pattern.

Gimme Cass, as each Bat is off to the side doing their own independent investigations into Danny and getting a different idea for what's going on, to show up for a night or two, meeting Phantom, and immediately going "that's not right" and pestering Phantom until she can figure out what caused her to think so.

Gimme Steph trusting Phantom at first, as much as a Bat can at least, but figuring out something is off and thinking it's because Phantom is there to harm the Batfam - which, not wrong even if it is reluctantly. So, Spoiler becomes very outspoken in distrusting Phantom and it's, quite frankly, a relief to Danny.

The hallucinations - because that’s what they were - were almost see-through with how faint they were. He could hear them cheering, could even make out Jack praising Maddie, but it was muffled - as though he were underwater, listening to a conversation through a wall. He could tell that there’d been an attempt at restraining him - ecto-ropes supposedly tied tightly around him - but if he didn’t look right at them, they didn’t even seem to exist.

Well, they didn’t. Not really.

The Rogue’s eyes narrowed, glaring gleefully down at his captive, “a resistance, perhaps? But of what? No matter, increasing the dose works just as well.”

The plunger had just met the syringe when a cape burst into the warehouse. It was almost pathetic how quickly Nightwing had Scarecrow pinned and tied down, but Danny had already promised himself to not engage with humans so it’s not like he would’ve done that himself.

The hero stepped through the image of his parents preparing for surgery, an image that was stronger sure but still so far away and faint that it was difficult to imagine being scared of it. “Can you hear me?” Nightwing seemed wary, holding his hands up and observing Danny.

“Huh?” Danny pulled his attention from trying to figure out the source of the buzzing nearby, looking back at Nightwing. “Oh, yea. What’s up?”

The mask followed along as Nightwing blinked several times at Danny’s nonchalant attitude, “you were injected with Crane’s fear toxin, correct?”

Danny shrugged, “I mean, probably. I dunno what else he would’ve given me.” Danny paused a moment, before tacking on, “and he gave me two doses. I think. Unless the syringe had more than one dose. Probably only two.” Danny paused again, waiting for the hero to say or do something, before deciding to ignore the baffled reaction. “Anyways, could you like, untie me or something? I’m pretty tired, and the hallucinations are prolly just gonna be there until I get some sleep I’d guess.”

He didn't really know what the cause of his brokenness was, just that he clearly and obviously was. Even before he died, he couldn't see color.

Unlike Jazz, whose soulmates began with their parents and continued to appear into her life and then stay in her life, Danny appeared to be soulmateless if it weren't for the fact that he still couldn't see color. Jazz, and everyone else in Amity, had the full rainbow and then some available to her before she even made it to middle school.

Jazz's soulmates were an easy and short list. Mom, Dad, her friend Kyle Weston, and her friend Spike. She had met Kyle in kindergarten, and Spike in third grade. All of her soulmates were platonic and familial, though there was still a chance that she was seeing darker shades of colors than they're supposed to be - it was more common than not for a romantic soulmate to brighten up the world that someone could already see.

Danny was in high school. And all he saw was grey, grey, and more grey. Occasionally, he could even tell that he was looking at black. It was unusual. He was broken. What else was he supposed to understand from that?

"Maybe your soulmates are somewhere else? Like, your soulmates are all French or something," Tucker suggested, offhand.

"Maybe," Danny pretended to agree. Frankly, though, he wasn't holding out hope.

He was already dead, after all.

If someone's soulmate passed, they just lost the ability to see whatever colors their soulmate had given them. Danny doubted that him being dead before meeting his soulmates would affect that specific phenomenon in any meaningful way. He would just never know.

So why the hell could he suddenly see this- this- this beautiful color after meeting some dude? He didn't seem to have noticed the change of colors, rushing off with a bright apology for running into Danny, as Danny's whole world flipped on its side. He- he had no clue how to find that person again. What was he supposed to do now?

Maybe... maybe start with googling what this color is.

Blue. Blue was the color of the sky, of oceans, of brightly colored birds and butterflies. It was so beautiful. Danny's eyes were blue! Danny decided just then that blue was his favorite color.

Who knew he'd finally find a soulmate after moving to Gotham? Maybe, just maybe, he'd find his other soulmates here too.

He shook his head; Danny knew better than to hope. Danny was dead. He can't have soulmates, now. Even if Danny could now see colors- or, well, one color, that didn't mean whoever was connected to him could also see their missing color(s). So even if Danny was connected to them, they... probably weren't connected to him.

...

"Sorry, Jay, I got held up at wor-" Dick trailed off, looking at his little brother's eyes.

They weren't that green before. He knows they weren't; after meeting Damian, Dick could see green. They could all see green after meeting Damian. Jason and Damian's eyes were both an olive green, only a slight shade difference between them, everyone in the family agreed. Not... not this neon bright green.

Jason's gaze snapped to Dick from where he'd been glaring at someone across the diner, and the brightness dulled. It didn't go away, but calmed down. No longer seemed like it was lighting Jason's face up. "What?"

Wes: - and like, clearly Batman is Bruce Wayne-

Bernard, throwing his PowerPoint on the table: Excuse you, Batman is secretly Mothman! Bruce Wayne, meanwhile, is part of a super secret society-

Wes, drily: you mean The Justice League?

Bernard, ignoring him: -and Tim promised to bring me to one of their meetings-

Tim: I did what now? Babe, how many times do I have to tell you that Bruce is just a normal idiot with too much money-?

Bernard&Wes: *scoffs before going back to arguing*

Danny: you’re dating your conspiracy theorist? Seriously?

He jumps headfirst into romantic relationships often, and is quick to return the moment someone he previously dated implied they might be interested in a rerun. He meets a pretty lady that is fully capable of kicking his ass and suddenly his heart beats for her. Just as easily, he will fall for the next man that he finds his empathy reaching a little too far for.

It’s even easier with kids. He holds a baby, waiting for the baby’s parents to return from being checked over by medics, and he’s imagining them growing up, decorating their nursery in his mind, picking out colleges that’ll more suit different interests - if the baby wants to be a lawyer, then this school would be better; if a little artist in the making, then this other school is the best of the best. And it all goes through his head in the ten minutes that the parents are held up for. He saves a toddler from a burning building, and sees himself taking the kid for walks and building Legos with them. He finds a teenager in trouble, and he’s already imagining helping them with their homework.

Usually, it doesn’t go anywhere. He brings the kid somewhere safe, usually reuniting them with their parents, and then mopes about the loss of that potential future for a few days before it leaves his mind again.

But sometimes, sometimes, a child sticks in his mind. Dick was the first of those children, quickly brought into his custody but not quick enough.

Next was Tim, a bright little child that Bruce noticed before he’d ever adopted Jason. Tim was the first child Bruce had to learn restraint for, telling himself that he couldn’t monitor this little kid who looked at Bruce like he hung the stars in the sky. Still, he couldn’t help but to keep an eye on the little Drake during galas and gatherings. Tim was Bruce’s son before he was ever Robin, no matter what Bruce had said and done in his grief.

Jason was very quickly adopted, Bruce hadn’t even needed to use his hard won restraint for that one. The moment he’d seen those defiant blue eyes glaring at him in the darkness, he’d emotionally adopted the boy. Mentally adopted him shortly after, with the adoption papers filled out and turned in quickly after.

The only child Bruce would find himself counting when doing roll call only to be disappointed had barely been in Bruce’s presence for five minutes. The little boy Bruce found himself thinking often of, wondering how he was growing up, whether he was going to see the stars as an adult like he’d claimed, hoping Bruce might even see the little boy applying for Wayne Enterprise’s Aerospace division. Danny Fenton was a child that crossed Bruce’s mind often despite not being, on paper or by blood, Bruce’s child.

But to Bruce’s heart and mind? Danny should’ve grown up with him.

“Daddy!” Bruce looked down as a small weight hit his leg, stunned to see a small child there. “Look! Shtarsh!” A small lisp, as the child turned a gap-toothed grin up at Bruce. Bruce followed the little boy’s pointing finger, noting that there was indeed a display of stars, the infographics claiming a better way to fuel rockets was such-and-such method over the common-

Wait, had this child called him-?

“It sure is, bud,” Bruce agreed, kneeling down to be closer to even height with this… four-year-old? “But what are you doing over here by yourself?”

“Mommy d’ere,” the little boy pointed towards a woman in a teal… hazmat suit(?), focused intently on the display in front of her. In her hands was a leash that led down to an abandoned backpack.

Bruce’s face twitched at the fact that she hadn’t even noticed, and he didn’t know how long the child had been free of the backpack. Long enough for it to look like it’d been dragged from a different exhibit.

Bruce looked back at the little escape artist, “May I pick you up, chum?” The little boy’s eyes brightened, excited.

“Rocket!” He bounced a little on his toes, hands held up excitedly.

Bruce was disappointed, himself, that he had no clue what this boy was asking for, “Not right now, but maybe later.” Bruce was quick to tack on the last part as the boy deflated. Propping the little boy on his hip, he made his way over to ‘mommy.’ “Excuse me, ma’am- ma’am?” It took several calls, and even waving his hand in her eyesight, to get the woman’s attention - and Bruce’s displeasure with the woman steadily increased the longer it took. “You appear to have misplaced a budding astronaut.”

She barely even glanced at the little boy before negating his statement, “no I didn’t, he’s right-“ finally, she noticed the childless backpack, her head snapping back to Bruce, “Daniel James Fenton! I told you to stop taking your backpack off!”

“But- but shtarsh, mommy!” The little boy indignantly argued back with the woman, and Bruce had to quickly school his face to not smile at Daniel’s attitude.

“That doesn’t mean you can wander off, Danny,” the woman huffed, before reaching out to steal- retrieve her son from Bruce. “Thank you, sir.”

Throughout the rest of the convention, Bruce caught glimpses of the bright-eyed little boy with his mother and father, who was a man that Bruce could feasibly understand the young child confusing Bruce for… if he weren’t wearing an eye-piercing orange hazmat suit, and Bruce a tailored three-piece.

When it became clear that Bruce’s attachment to the little boy didn’t fade with time and distance the way it normally did, he allowed himself just one day in a year where he would indulge, letting himself use the resources available to him to check on the little boy. Last Bruce had seen, little Danny, who had just turned 14, - only a couple years older than Damian now that he thinks about it - was doing well in school and was on his way to becoming an astronaut.

So why…?

Why was his little boy standing before Batman in dirty, ripped up, bloody clothes and an unnatural green light in his otherwise dull eyes?

But why?

I’ve not seen anyone address why Tim becomes Red Hood.

Why is he in Crime Alley? Tim is a Bristol-born brat, who was then taken in by Batman… who is still in Bristol. Batman, in fact, avoids Crime Alley aside from one night in the year (so far as I’m aware - actually kinda also curious how the Batman v Red Hood thing went on the anniversary of the Waynes’ deaths, cuz doesn’t it take a couple years for some versions-) so there’s not much chance for Tim to really be in Crime Alley even when he’s stalking B, seeing as B’s motivations to enter Crime Alley without Jason in the picture is pretty low. If Jason were Robin (or Batboy, as is common for this AU) before Tim, there’s reason to believe that Tim may have grown attached to Crime Alley… but that’s the point of this AU, Jason came after Tim. So far, there’s no reason for Tim to be attached to Crime Alley. So why Crime Alley? Only real explanation I can come up with is that it’s a strategic move to try hiding from B… but again, Jason came after Tim, Batman and whatever-Jason-is-named probably patrol Crime Alley fairly frequently - which also, like, brings up the question of how Tim would defend Crime Alley from the Crime Alley Street Rat, seeing as in canon Tim’s Robin was forbidden from entering Crime Alley by Jason’s Red Hood for a bit… I think.

So Crime Alley is a bit of a confusing move.

Then the whole “kill people who traffic children and/or provide children with drugs” makes sense as a broad idea… but like… again, there’s no personal motivator like there is with Jason. Jason, you can look at his childhood and be like “oh, makes sense why it makes him so angry” but with Tim it’s kinda… well, there’s no personal motivator, no tie-in for his character, aside from “that’s a very wrong thing and people should not be allowed to get away with it.” ‘Cause like, yea, it’s very wrong. People really should not be allowed to get away with providing harmful substances to children, with hurting children, with trafficking them. But that makes me normal-angry, not violently angry. Not “it makes sense to kill 7 people and stuff their heads in a duffle bag as a power move to my adopted father” angry. Not “terrorize the population of a whole city, particularly those in this one neighborhood I’ve never been in, with the consequences of crossing that line” angry. More “huff and puff about how wrong it is and maybe punch an asshole I see doing it” angry. Post-child-vigilante prolly has a more definite “punch an asshole I see doing it” reaction along with a ten-step plan on how to relocate the child they’ve found to some place safer, but that’s not “go on a murder spree until everyone fears my name” angry.

Tim coming back to Gotham? Sounds right, I believe it. Coming back to Gotham for revenge on Batman and the-man-who-killed-him? Even more believable. But doing so as dramatically as Jason did? When Jason had a plan that was basically a 20 Act play? Dude was monologuing like he was on stage in a high school play, after barely managing to cinch the Lead role, with talent scouts guaranteed to be in the crowd, even when he was demanding Batman kill The Joker. I don’t know if any of the Batkids could follow in Jason’s footsteps like that. If anything, I see Tim doing a quiet takeover and then three or four months in, Bruce suddenly realizes that Gotham is quiet and none of the big players are making any moves because they’re no longer on the board. Or they’ve been relocated from the chess board to a never-ending Chutes & Ladders game. But it takes B much longer to find the cause of the new state Gotham is in.

Particularly since Tim would have a more extensive League training than he does in canon.

Like, obviously he’s friends with Sam and Tucker without fighting them, but that’s just lasting affection from before his death. And yeah, his sister is Jazz, but she’s always been his sister, so there’s no change. But he fought Val. He bonded with Val the ghost way.

Gimme, post-Nasty Burger explosion or post-Bad Parents Fenton, Danny struggling to be in the Wayne family. Not because they’re obviously hiding something, or because they’re workaholics that… don’t seem to have jobs? No, his issue is that he doesn’t know how to interact with them.

Like, sure, Dick is always stating how excited he is that he’s got a new brother, but Danny just doesn’t feel it. Not like Danny feels it’s a betrayal to Jazz, but like Dick just seems distant. Yeah, Dick is very… huggy, let’s just say, and he’s constantly coming to Gotham to have “brotherly bonding” time with Danny and Dick does everything that Danny had ever imagined a big brother might do for him… but.

And of course Jason is there, he’s helping Danny with his English and Reading homework, he’s joking with Danny in the way that no one else is, he’s driving Danny from place to place, Jason is just… present, but.

And Tim, can’t forget Tim, Tim tinkers with projects with Danny and plays games with Danny and-

And Damian- Duke, Bruce, even Alfred!

But. But! Danny feels like an outsider looking in as he’s doing these activities with the Wayne’s. Not in a way of feeling like he’s inconveniencing these busy and important people, but in that he’s just hanging around with work friends he can barely remember the names of and definitely doesn’t have the phone numbers of (but he does, he has their phone numbers, he knows their names, he knows their favorite colors- what is wrong with him??)

And then it clicks, when he has to fight a misunderstanding Batman off. Because now Batman is his… friend? Dad? Now Batman is his something but why can’t he feel that way about Bruce?

And then he fights Nightwing in a panic and Nightwing becomes his… something. And it’s replicable. He fights every one of the Bats over a misunderstanding or because of some outside influence and they become his family even though he wanted this feeling with the Wayne’s and he doesn’t know what to do and it hurts that he doesn’t have this feeling with the Wayne’s and it almost feels like a betrayal to their efforts and-

…

Batman stood on the roof, observing the fight. It wasn’t the first battle he’d observed for this being, wasn’t even the most interesting, but any data was good to collect.

From what he’d been able to gather, in the past two years the ghost fights had toned down a lot. At the beginning, they’d wreck the portion of town Phantom and the Rogue of the Day found themselves fighting in, and Phantom would guiltily offer his assistance to fix what was broken. The townspeople hadn’t reacted… well to the first few offers of help, they’d admitted rather easily, and Phantom stopped offering. During the much larger fights that Bruce would classify as worthy of Justice League intervention, Phantom would help without asking - which had likely gone a long way in improving his personal image, even if the townsfolk seemed generally negative towards “ghosts” as a race. Nowadays, the ghost fights weren’t what caused damage to the town. It was the ghost hunters.

Another note to be made was that Phantom had, according to what little footage Oracle could find, been terrified of the other ghosts towards the beginning. He hid it well, behind bravado and quips that made Bruce’s former Robins grin in amusement, but he was clearly out of his depth. Bruce had two running theories on the why - he’d either been a recluse, avoiding other ghosts before the Fenton’s portal opened (which was its own mess of a situation), or he was a new ghost, from shortly before or after the portal opened - but wouldn’t be able to lean one direction or another without a conversation with Phantom.

Which was the main problem Bruce was running into in this situation.

Generally, unless the targeted person was a criminal and not too keen on the idea of being arrested, Batman’s uniform was enough to elicit attention. Typically, when he was the one to go out scouting, the non-JLA-affiliated vigilante or wannabe hero would approach him upon seeing his caped figure. Oftentimes, all Bruce had to do was stand on a visible roof and let the town or city’s local protector(s) approach him.

Phantom captured the ghost who’d been tearing through town on his motorcycle and turned just enough that he caught sight of Batman - and, just like every time before, the ghost’s head snapped up, green eyes boring into Bruce’s mask, before Phantom disappeared from view. Changing his lenses to heat detection showed the ghost staring at him for a few moments longer before diving into the ground as the Fenton’s tank came flying down the road.

Jason: “Just gotta wait until the Stockholm Syndrome kicks in!”

Danny: “Actually, that is a phony diagnosis created by a sexist psychiatrist who saw a hostage situation on TV and decided that the woman, in fight-flight-fawn mode, was in love with the man waving a gun at h-"

Jason: *raises eyebrow*

Danny, realizing: "Oh, you meant it as a joke… Ancients, I sounded like Jazz there.” *shudders*

Dick, exasperated: “Monkey see, monkey do, after all…”

Danny, eating a snack: "Actually, monkeys mimic behavior as a form of communication and survival, while the so-called Chameleon Effect is influenced by a desire to fit in and be liked by the people around us. It's also influenced by a part of the brain that certain- *pauses* *pushes snack away* And that was super fucking weird to bring up all of a sudden, sorry, what were we talking about?" *face screwed up in disgust*

Dick: *is just amused*

Damian, angry enough to turn red: "-I will eviscerate you so much that even your mother would be disgusted by your incompetent-"

Danny, off to the side and kinda zoned out: "Did you know that excess violence in teenagers, while typically attributed towards early childhood development by those around the teenager, is almost always caused by their current situation and a feeling of estrangement, lack of control, or- wow, yea, okay, I'm shutting up now, I just realized what I sounded like. Uegh."

Damian, suddenly calm: "You bring up a valid point, Daniel. Come, make your argument in front of father. Please."

Tim: "I'll sleep when I'm dead; for now, there's coffee."

Jason: "That shit stunts your growth, pipsqueak."

Danny: "That was actually debunked. What coffee does do is it blocks your adenosine receptors and enhances your dopamine signaling, increasing your mood and motivation as well as enhancing your memory, and then it also improves your attention and alertness. However, it also increases your anxiety and sleep disturbances, which can mess up your memory consolidation and brain recovery." *makes a disgusted face* *shudders* *takes a sip of an energy drink* "Anyways, ignoring all that nonsense that I'm definitely ignoring that I've accidentally memorized, sleeping when you're dead is also a myth. I would know." *chugs energy drink*

At least, he thinks so?

There’s no point in his memories that would explain why he’d be wandering this cave without a thought in his head, at least. He would come across a branching path and, without pausing to consider the best option or finding any clues as to what path he might be choosing, would pick one at random to follow.

Now, don’t get him wrong. If he were in this cave of his own volition, he probably be taking pictures of the scenery. Underground lakes, natural lime and rock structures, even quartz the size of Bruce - it was breathtaking to behold. Were he really in a cave and not in a dream. There was enough supernatural in the world that Tim was taking careful notes of what he saw in the back of his mind.

When he woke up, he’d write it all down and see if someone could find meaning in it. If they could, great. If not, even better.

For the first time, his dream self paused before passing a threshold. On the other side was nothing special, Tim could even believe it was just another chamber of the Batcave. After passing all those beautiful sights, the chamber was underwhelming. But there were no paths out other than the one he’d come from.

His dream self shuffled forward, feet - had he been walking without shoes the whole time? Definitely a dream then - brushing the rock floor hesitantly as he quietly approached a column on the opposite side. It was a thick column, it’d been forming for several hundreds of years clearly, and hid whatever his dream self approached.

Stepping around it brought Tim up short, startling him enough that even his dream self paused to stare. There was a skeleton. Of a Victorian vampire, perhaps, based on the teeth and clothing. The skeleton even had the remains of what must’ve been a cape. Several of the visible bones were broken, the skull caved in, and an eye socket malformed from either injury or deterioration. Tim didn’t exactly pay attention to what his parents would say about archaeology, to be fair.

What was noteworthy, though - the vampire had been gripping something tightly when they’d… passed? Something wrapped in thick fabric, clenched in fingers even now that they were nothing but bone.

Logically, Tim wasn’t going to do anything about that.

Illogically, Dream!Tim decided he must have the cloth-covered object.

Tim watched in muted horror as his hand reached out, snapping old bones to get to the fabric. Surprisingly, nothing happened despite the desecrated skeleton and Dream!Tim retrieved the object with no further protest. Turning the object over in his hands, Dream!Tim found a spot he could use to open up the fabric, which he did with haste.

Leaving Tim holding an uneven orb. The orb was glowing a soft blue, the surface jagged as though it were an uncarved piece of ice - the snow flurries Tim could see inside of it were mesmerizing. It was beautiful. It seemed fragile. It was clearly magic.

Tim didn’t give a damn.

Tucking the orb into his pocket (was he in his pajamas?), Tim took another look at the skeleton he’d just taken from and took a quick step back upon realizing the vampire’s head was now tilted back instead of forward, watching Tim without eyes. No, watching Tim’s pocket. Tim’s new treasure.

He’d be damned if he let that dried up vampire have his new core. (Core?)

The skeleton began the arduous process of shambling to its feet but Tim was quicker, leaving the chamber and racing back the way he’d come.

—

Tim woke up with a gasp, his heart racing like he’d done an ill-prepared solo patrol directly after an Arkham breakout. Again. Wildly looking around him, Tim began relaxing upon seeing his bedroom. With his blackout curtains, he’d need his phone to check what time it was, but he wasn’t concerned.

Honestly, he wanted some more sleep.

So he turned on his side to return to dream world… or, well, that was the plan.

Gimme something circumstantial.

Gimme hetero!Danny finding a cool glowing pink rock and debating what to do with it when he sees Tucker and is just like “imma hit that ASAP” and it takes everyone forever to figure out why Danny changed so suddenly, so drastically.

Gimme Danny finding this glowing blue rock and suddenly he can’t use any of his normal powers, though he can kinda phase through solid objects but his control of that power is shaky at best and nonexistent at worst.

Gimme Danny stumbling into a cache of green glowing rocks that Luthor had squirreled away for a rainy day, and then being unable to do anything but crumple to the ground and wait for rescue. Or a second death.

Gimme Danny being handed a glowing red rock and some unexpected thing happens and he has no idea what to do, panicking to the point that Clockwork steps in and is like “maybe go talk to a Super?”

Gimme Danny cutting himself on a sharp silver rock and then gaining paranoia to put the Bat to shame.

Gimme Danny finding a glowing purple rock and deciding Sam would probably like it but now time is being funky and he can’t even get Clockwork to help.

Basically, just gimme Danny finding Kryptonite, not knowing shit about Kryptonite besides what the general public is aware of when it comes to Superman’s very public weakness, and reacting to it only to need assistance by a hero. Revealing that oh, that’s Kryptonite and Danny’s a Kryptonian - or at least half-a-Kryptonian - and maybe Danny should be taught about the things Kryptonians have special about them.

...

...

"You once asked me," Tim commented, eyes meeting the white blinds of Red Hood's helmet, "why everyone calls me The Smart Robin."

Red Hood didn't respond. Tim didn't expect him to.

"At the time, I'd said something about my computer skills. Maybe it was how I could outsmart even The Bat. I remember commenting on that, too. Dick had then issued some dumb challenge." Tim lifted one of the nearby escrima, without an owner for so long that the little details had begun to degrade, to block some of the light above him. He could almost pretend they were brand new and he was just holding onto them for Dick, adding some new upgrade or fixing the now defunct taser function in them. "I don't really remember what happened afterwards. That doesn't really matter, either."

Damian had been unable to recover anything but Dick's escrima.

"You once asked me why everyone calls me The Smart Robin," Tim repeats, frustration bleeding into his voice. Tim turned his gaze to survey the dilapidated Batcave, hardly a shadow of its former glory, and his eyes drifted to the displayed Batman uniform.

It was almost depressing how Bruce hadn't even been able to suit up.

"The fucking Smart Robin," Tim seethed, standing up and reeling his arm back - before carefully bringing the escrima back down. He couldn't throw one of the last keepsakes of his oldest brother. He sighed, reaching down to grab the scuffed helmet before tucking it between his arm and side.

He stood there for a long moment, staring at nothing, before jerkily beginning his trek to the smashed Batcomputer. "What good is the title if I can't figure out how to fix this?" Tim muttered to the helmet before flopping into the somewhat-repaired computer chair, letting the helmet roll across the remaining desk.

He reached over his head to grab the cape he'd draped over the back after Damian had also perished, burying his face into the fabric. It smelt like dust and debris and that specific scent that Tim had always attributed to Gotham herself. Neither Damian's favorite tea nor Titus' shampoo scents were left. At this point, it was a swath of fabric that Tim couldn't even wear because he couldn't bring himself to use it for scraps.

Tim wished he had something of Duke's but there was nothing of his where his tracker was last recorded. Cass and Steph were uncertain as to whether they were still alive or not, as they were in Hong Kong when it all went down and long-distance communications were one of the first things to be eliminated.

The Supers were the first to fall to their still unknown foe, disintegrating into dust before Lois' eyes - according to the hysterical newly widowed and grieving mother. Supergirl and Power Girl were both unknown, but unlikely to have survived due to their MIA status. After the Supers, the Earth-based Lanterns and all communication with Oa. Then, Wonder Woman and then... Bruce.

That was, at least, the presumed timeline. After the main three Justice League founders and their ability to call for assistance from what was essentially the galactic police were eliminated, the unknown enemy then began expanding and checking off an arbitrary list. At that point, the Bats were still largely unaware, and it took a news feature on Bruce Wayne disappearing in a cloud of dirt for Tim to be made aware. He'd immediately informed the others.

They'd tried everything they could to figure out what they were even supposed to be fighting. Then it began taking civilians, picking up speed, then started disintegrating the earth itself. And then it took Red Hood. Nightwing. Robin. Signal. All the way until, so far as Tim could figure, Red Robin was the only still active vigilante. Not that there was anything left of Gotham to protect, aside from dust-filled streets and dirty ruins.

It almost felt like some higher power had decided to hit Reset on this dimension, and it had to destroy everything before it could restart.

"Oh hey, I finally found someone- hey!" The unexpected voice would've caused Tim to jump up to defend the last of his home had he not been so willing to join his family. Instead, his head flopped back so it leant against the headrest, his eyes rolling in the direction the person was in.

If Jason hadn't declared that no God exists within two months after Bruce's... disappearance, Tim would almost call the person an angel.

“That’s the polite descriptor?” Bruce turned to meet blue eyes, “I shudder to imagine the impolite version.”

The room had been empty. He’d made sure of it before allowing Dick to move their… argument. There were no signs of life on this or the next five floors down. Yet, there he was. A beautiful man, too many years his junior for his thoughts to go straight to the man’s looks, sitting on a stool at a workbench.

“Oh, for sure, you definitely don’t want to hear what else I could describe that as.” The man nodded, bringing Bruce’s attention to the jewelry tucked into the man’s shirt and hidden by his hair. “Ignoring all the stuff I clearly shouldn’t have heard,” which meant he did, in fact, notice the Bat-based vocabulary, “you are terrible at communicating with your kids.”

“Oh?” Bruce strained to sound casual, trying not to give away what all he may have not already.

“Oh yeah. Like, clearly you love your kids. Right?” The man waited for acknowledgment, which Bruce begrudgingly gave, before he continued, “right, so, what’s stopping you from saying it? Just a simple, I’m worried about you going on that inter-dimensional mission because I love you and want you to be safe, would work great. Might even get you brownie points, you know? Instead of what you said, which implied a lack of trust and a sense of derision towards your son’s skills, and was never going to be taken well.” Well. That answered well enough what all the pretty man had heard.

“It’s not that easy,” Bruce frowned at him, debating how many NDAs he’d have to threaten the man into signing.

“Sure it is. Just open your mouth and say the words, let them sit there, and don’t take them back.” Blue met and held blue from across the room before the man rolled his eyes, “right, okay, would it help you to think of it as a series of undefined tasks or a science experiment?”

“The latter,” the former sounded like what he’d already been working with.

“Okay, so pull up a stool,” the man twirled a pen as he pulled over a loose sheet of paper, “and we’ll start with the scientific method: if the big bad Bat communicates ineffectively then his children will be upset because they don’t have empathic abilities. What about this sentence can we change to make it better?”

“My ability to communicate,” Bruce admitted.

“Very good,” the man praised and Bruce wondered if he could get away with slamming the man’s head into the table without it being workplace abuse. Probably not. “So, if the Bat communicates effectively, then…?”

“My children won’t be as upset.”

“Because…?”

“They’ll understand what I mean better.”