Enter Child, If Ye Dare

.... who'd be stupid enough to walk it with me?

A literal bat!Danny, based off a pied bat art prompt by @artistica18! (He's just a lil guy and won't bite your fingers off, promise!) Also, here's a bonus Timothy (as Jimothy)

Jason, after coming back to Gotham and taking over the criminal underworld— is burnt out.

He’s exhausted, he can’t sleep, he’s pretty sure he broke some ribs somewhere along the two month mark of being the Red Hood and he just wants to go home.

So he does, entering the Cave near deliriously while Batman and Robin are out on patrol, shattering the stupid memorial he comes across while he’s at it, and— huh, well, that actually looks like a pretty comfy spot to take a nap. He’s just gonna— one minute. He just needs one… minute…..

The results of this project had surpassed every expectation Jason had. And by that, he meant that his plans to take over Gotham's underground had ended in an astounding success. In the span of a single week, people died left and right, many by Jason's own hand. Eventually, with so much of society's scum having been beheaded and left rotting in ditches, there was a hole large enough for Red Hood to slip into.

Jason took that spot.

With immense satisfaction.

And crushing fatigue.

It wasn't much of a stretch to say Jason hadn't slept for more than three hours all week.

Back when he was busy hunting down and killing his strategic targets, he couldn't bring himself to stop—not without sacrificing Red Hood's hard-won momentum, territory, and people to the vultures of the underworld, salivating at the chance to expand their empires.

At the time, the decision had made perfect sense. Now, he could feel every hour he'd stolen from himself coming due.

There was a strange clarity to a mind no longer weighed down by logic or reason. Jason wasn't insane—not for the lack of trying—but he was far too exhausted to hold onto a coherent thought for more than a minute before it drifted away.

And what remained was painfully simple.

Home.

Jason wanted to go home.

Home was Bruce's.

The Manor.

The Cave.

His room.

Luckily for Jason, he had the tools to get there quickly.

And quickly he went, roaring through Gotham on his bike.

Jason couldn't remember the ride back to the Manor.

He couldn't remember entering the Cave.

But he remembered what he saw waiting for him.

The case.

The fucking case.

Jason remembered staring at it for what felt like an hour.

The glass reflected a stranger.

A man in a red helmet.

Armor drenched in drying blood.

He looked like someone who was absolutely nothing like the memory of the kid who had died in that stupid costume.

"A good soldier."

His fist moved before his brain caught up.

Glass exploded across the Cave.

The sound rang through the stone halls, loud enough to make him flinch despite being the one who'd caused it. The mannequin pitched sideways, Robin's costume collapsing beneath it in a heap of yellow, green, and red.

Everything after that blurred together.

Jason didn't remember deciding to rip Batman's ruined suit free from its display. He only remembered the brittle sound of aged fabric giving way beneath his hands, and the stupid, awful comfort of having something—anything—to wrap around himself.

The cape smelled wrong. Old. Burned. Forgotten.

He still pulled it over his shoulders anyway before sinking into the shattered remains of the memorial, glass pressing through the leather covering his palms and scraping uselessly against his armor.

Jason had no idea when he'd taken his helmet off.

He barely had time to drift before the Cave echoed with the sharp, unmistakable sound of footsteps.

"RED HOOD!"

Gotham Academy has a ghost.

Not a metaphor. Not a rumor. An actual, documented, deeply annoying haunting that the staff refuses to acknowledge because “funding would be affected.”

Lights turn off in empty rooms. Lockers slam. Footsteps echo in halls that should be empty. Every few months, a student swears something whispered their name.

Most people cope by ignoring it.

Damian Wayne does not ignore threats.

He has a plan, a schedule, and exactly zero patience for supernatural interference in his education.

Then Danny Fenton transfers in.

And on his first day, the haunting… stops.

Not completely. Just around him.

Lights don’t flicker when he walks by. The cold spots vanish. The whispering goes quiet, like something just got told to behave.

Damian notices immediately.

“This is your doing,” he says.

Danny looks genuinely confused. “What is?”

“The disturbance.”

“What disturbance?”

Damian stares at him.

Danny shrugs. “I thought this school just had bad wiring.”

It gets worse from there.

Because Danny starts talking to empty rooms.

Not in a creepy way. In a casual, “hey, can you not do that right now?” kind of way.

Once, during study hall, a book flies off a shelf across the room.

Before anyone can react, Danny sighs.

“Dude, seriously? I’m trying to focus.”

The book… floats back.

Silently.

Gently.

The entire class freezes.

Danny flips a page in his notebook like nothing happened.

Damian changes tactics.

If this is a hostile entity, then Fenton is either controlling it or negotiating with it. Both are unacceptable variables.

So he follows him.

After hours. Empty halls. The kind of quiet Gotham only has right before something goes wrong.

Danny walks like he knows where he’s going.

He stops in front of an old, unused classroom. The door creaks open on its own.

“You gonna come out or what?” Danny says, leaning against the frame.

The temperature drops.

Something moves inside the room. Not visible. Just… present.

Damian reaches for a weapon.

Danny doesn’t.

“Yeah, I know,” Danny continues, softer now. “They’re loud. They don’t mean anything by it.”

The air shifts.

A desk scrapes across the floor.

Damian steps forward. “Fenton—”

“Hold on,” Danny says, not looking away from the empty space. “We’re talking.”

Talking.

To nothing.

Except it’s not nothing.

The presence in the room feels wrong. Old. Fractured. Like it’s been stuck here too long.

Danny tilts his head, listening.

“…Oh,” he says quietly. “That’s why.”

The tension eases. Just a little.

“What is it saying?” Damian demands.

Danny hesitates.

Then, “It doesn’t remember leaving.”

Silence.

Even the building seems to hold its breath.

Danny pushes off the doorframe and steps inside like this is normal, like this is safe.

“It’s not trying to hurt anyone,” he says. “It’s just… stuck. Keeps replaying the same stuff over and over.”

The air shifts again. Less sharp this time.

“Can you help it?” Damian asks, before he can stop himself.

Danny glances back, expression oddly serious.

“…Yeah,” he says. “I think so.”

He turns back to the empty room.

“Hey,” he says gently. “You don’t have to stay here.”

The lights flicker once.

Twice.

Then go still.

The cold fades.

The pressure lifts.

Whatever was there… is gone.

Danny exhales like he just finished something difficult.

“Okay,” he mutters. “That should do it.”

Damian stands in the doorway, trying to process.

“You exorcised it,” he says.

Danny winces. “I mean… not like that. I just helped it move on.”

“That is what exorcism is.”

“Yeah, but mine’s less… dramatic.”

Damian studies him.

This boy who walks into haunted rooms without fear. Who speaks to the dead like they’re just people having a bad day. Who treats something dangerous like it deserves patience instead of violence.

“…You are highly irregular,” Damian decides.

Danny grins, just a little tired. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

The next day, Gotham Academy is quiet.

No flickering lights. No whispers. No slammed doors.

For the first time in years, the building feels… normal.

Students celebrate.

Teachers relax.

Damian watches Danny from across the room.

Because the ghost is gone.

But Danny?

Danny is still here.