MayRin

The Wrong Robin Au (DP x DC):

Tim Drake saw Danny do a quadruple somersault, which resulted in him believing Danny was the first Robin for years. He still figured out Bruce but thinks Dick is in the dark. Now with the second Robin dead, and Batman quickly reaching the end of his sanity, Tim takes it upon himself to get Robin to come back. Danny is very confused when this random kid tries to blackmail him into becoming Robin.

Badger Day Au (DP x DC):

Danny is stuck in a Groundhog Day kinda situation and he would like to be let out now, please. The league is very worried.

Delilah's language (DP x DC):

Bruce Wayne approaches the Fentons because Damian is a big fan of Danny for his work in the conservation of the purpleback gorilla. So now Danny is going to the birthday of this random kid so he can teach him gorilla sign language so he can talk to the purple-back gorilla as well.

Just a Bite (DP x DC):

Danny's homeless on the streets of Gotham, when he gets a terrible idea from some passerby. Three weeks after living with the Waynes, they still haven't noticed he's not supposed to be there.

72 hours (DP x DC):

During a battle with the rest of the league, John Constantine is accidentally sent into the palace of Pariah Dark, Tyrant of the Dead, and Bane of the Living. Danny just wanted to have a simple spa day.

Biggest Regret (DP x DC):

Danny Had been optimistic when he created The Email. Three days, that's what he gave himself. Three days to fix or get out of whatever problem he was dealing with and open his laptop to restart the timer. Three days. Past him had thought that If he ever got caught they'd just kill him; it's what they said they would do this whole time, so why wouldn't he think otherwise? It's been more than three days, and at this point, he's just glad someone could fulfill his last wish.

The Disappointment (DP x DC):

Ra's has stated his disapproval of one of the twins, now Talia is rushing to get them out of there and to Bruce to be safe. Danny has other ideas.

Black Retrievers and Golden Cats (DP x DC):

He remembered how it took two hours for his mind to catch up to what he had done, two hours for him to realize he had just killed his brother. It took another two days to realize his brother was never coming back, that the pits had not worked. Damian stared at the camera footage infront of him, his family's voices buzzing with theories and analyzing everything they could. He remembered his brother's bright carefree smile just minutes before Damian had killed him. So, why? Why was he seeing it again?

College Rivalry with the Genius Toddler in the First Row. (DP X DC):

Tim doesn't understand how he's losing at university to a toddler. Danny's not having a great time, but it's fine because now he can terrorize Red Robin.

The Weeping Boy Au (DP X DC):

Opening a portal to a dimension between dimensions always leads to some sort of accident; for instance, Danny's death. It just so happens that at the exact moment the portal opened, his earth and another had overlapped, leaving his death to loop repeatedly in the other for as long as the portal stayed. This wouldn't be a problem if it weren't for the fact that Danny just accidentally turned the portal off and is now in the other dimension instead of the zone. (The Batfamily, who have been watching this kid die over and over again, are very concerned.)

The Eyes of Death Au (DP X DC):

In an attempt to prevent a cult from causing problems, Danny accidentally convinces the Justice League and Co. that he's possessing himself. Damian is not happy that his boyfriend is apparently the new June Moone.

Aspiring escape artist (DP X DC):

The new foster kid might be a little more traumatized than the other kids they usually take in for a while, but it's not like they can't handle it. That is, until Danny started sneaking out, past the bat-grade security system, without getting caught and without using his powers.

Through Your Eyes (DP X DC):

Sometimes, soulmates randomly switch bodies. It doesn't always happen; in fact, it's actually more common to not switch. Danny hadn't really thought he'd ever switch, doubly so after his accident. So you can imagine his surprise when not only does he switch, but he switches with Damian Wayne, aka Robin.

Cabin 18 and the Missing Kids (DP X DC):

Vlad is planning something; unfortunately, Danny's stuck at camp and can't sneak away. But maybe that's ok, because what's this about missing kids? And who does his roommates think they are fooling with their 'normal' kids act? They're obviously vigilantes. And hey, maybe Danny might actually get a break for once; it's not like his parents can't defend themselves.

Turn back the Frozen Sands of Time (DP X DC):

Danny wakes up in his nine-year-old body; no memories of how he got here or why. All he knows is he needs to stick to the timeline, figure out what happened, and fix it. So, why did his mother just merc his grandfather, and why are there a group of vigilantes (who, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't exist as a team yet) yelling at her and his brother?

Perks of Being Half Dead (DP X SPN):

Danny wasn't sure what exactly happened. One moment, he's living his life like usual, the next, he's dealing with grumpy hunters who think he's dying or something. That or their brother. Both, actually. He blames Clockwork.

A Ghost out of Ecto (DP x Subnautica X Dc):

Danny gets an internship with Alterra, basically a dream come true for him. But things take a horrifying turn when the Aurora's hull is breached, and Danny's left all alone on a strange planet.

The Walking Halfa (DP X TWD):

~

The day had started just like the last; the sky was clear, the news was blaring, and his parents were singing off-key to some old song Dad made up back in college. Jazz rolled her eyes, adding another row of pros and cons to her list. 

Georgia, or more specifically, Atlanta, was turning out to be just like all the other places they had visited over the last week.

“So,” Sam grumbled, leaning over the chair to stare at Jazz’s notes, “you guys are going straight to the building and what? Staying for the tour? How long is that?”

“An hour. Then Mom wants to do our own tour. You know, get to know what they don’t want us to see until we actually agree to attend.” Jazz replied, flipping back a few pages to reference something.

Sam shook her head, leaned back, picked up one of Tucker’s discarded blue jackal paws, and chucked it at Danny. Danny, having been hit with the same paw for the fifty-seventh time, turned and chucked it at Tucker.

“Fix it now, or I’m throwing it out the window,” Danny demanded, turning back around just in time to get launched into his sister's side as Dad took another roundabout at mach Jesus.

“You should really be buckled, Danny,” Mom sighed, not even looking up from the paper map spread across the dash in front of her. She crossed another road off with a bright red marker. He’s pretty sure the thing was anti-ghost in some way. Probably made with blood-blossoms or Dad’s second ecto-shot recipe. It had a menacing sparkle to it that Danny didn’t like.

“Think we can get Dr. Jack Man to launch you to space if he takes a turn fast enough?” Tucker asked, squeaking his jackal paw next to Danny’s ear just to annoy him.

“Sure,” Sam snorted, “right after he builds a ghost ramp so he doesn’t send Danny into the side of a building first.”

“Buckle up, Danny,” Jazz ordered, calmly adding another con under her already extensive list. Seven roundabouts, it read, underlined three times with an exclamation mark. Very Dramatic. Very Teenage genius. But also? Fair. No one wants to see Jack Fenton tearing down the road with a roundabout just so he can drop off something Jazz forgot at home. Danny’s actually surprised the man hasn’t launched the G.A.V right over the center of one yet.

Somehow, it still wasn’t as bad as when there was an underpass.

Shivering at the memory he’d just recalled, Danny sat up and pointedly yanked his seatbelt around himself. Mom absentmindedly turned up the radio, humming about natural ghost repellents and whether Ducks could be classified as sentient, governable entities.

“Reports are coming in; there has been an increase in vicious attacks in populated areas. We have word from our local military representatives: Stay indoors, avoid suspicious individuals, and keep a reasonable distance between aggressive or hostile groups. Next up: David talking about flying hotdogs in the Tristate area.”

“It’s the damn ghosts, I tell ya,” Dad huffed, turning sharply, making the four cars around us honk and slam on their brakes.

“I need a warning, Dr. Nascar,” Tucker complained, kicking the back of Danny’s seat as he tried to keep his sewing kit from tipping over and dumping its contents all over the floor.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Dad cheerfully replied, not even pausing as he took another sharp turn, cutting off what looked like a Krabby Patty Car. The driver, a man who had a very disturbingly similar physique to Squidward, flipped them off. His passenger, a lady who also had a disturbingly similar physique to a SpongeBob character, clutched her pearls with wide eyes.

“Flipped off by handsome Squidward- cross that off the list,” Sam snorted, tossing a roasted peanut at Tucker. The boy flinched away so hard that he hit his head on the shelves welded to the walls. The hot glue gun dropped into his lap, making the boy forget to glare at Sam as he swatted at the machine in panic. Danny watched silently as Tucker skreeched and tried to shake off the web-like glue now covering him.

He didn’t succeed.

“That’s what you get for not securing it before turning it on,” Jazz sighed, holding her hand out for a snack. Sam dug through her bag of trail mix, making sure to snag a few organic chocolate chips, before passing some over.

“Thanks,” Jazz mumbled, tossing a few into her mouth.

“But I need it for my fur suit!” Tucker complained, glaring at Sam as she flicked another nut at him.

“Leave the poor boy alone, Sam; you know how sensitive he is about anything other than meat,” Danny joked, turning around and snatching a handful of trail mix. Nice, he managed to snag four chocolate chips!

“I am not sensitive,” Tucker denied, pouting as he fixed the hole in his blue Jackal paw, “I’m allergic to her rabbit food.”

“You're not allergic; you’re dramatic.” Sam corrected, “And you’ll tolerate it unless you want me to change my mind about taking you with me.”

“No! Not the fury convention!” Tucker cried, dropping his suit’s paw as he turned and latched his hands around Sam’s shoulders, shaking her as he continued, “I’ll die if you do that, Die, Sam!”

“Not if you’re already dead,” Danny pointed out, eyeing Sam as she patted around her seat looking for something to stab Tucker with. She got her hands on one of her convention passes and slapped it against his face. It did nothing to convince the boy to stop harassing her.

Shaking his head with a snort, Danny turned back and cringed as he watched Dad run through another red light. He did not look forward to getting those tickets in the mail.

“What time is it?” Jazz cut in, finally looking up from her notes.

“Not to worry, Jazzy-pants, we’re right on time!” Dad cheered, slamming on the brakes, and twisting the wheel. Gravity seemingly doubled its pull on all of them as the car spun, turning and turning, before finally skidding to a stop and jerking side to side, then settling into dead silence.

Danny, with the confidence of a dead man, unbuckled his seatbelt and tossed the door open, eyeing the group of gawking college students. Jazz took a moment to take a deep breath before also unbuckling. Sam and Tucker groaned, slowly raising their bodies from their slumped positions.

“Welp,” Danny blurted, “now you have a conversation starter.”

Jazz dropped her head into her hands with a groan. Tossing the last of his snack into his mouth, he eyed his sister. She didn’t look like she would appreciate it if he pointed out that she had ink on her face.

Keeping his mouth shut, Danny looked back outside at the crowd. After a second of silent staring, someone snapped a picture, the flash blinding him.

~

“And this,” their suspiciously cheerful tour guide chirped, “Is the student parking lot, where if you pass our entrance exam, you’ll have your very own reserved parking. The farther along in your schooling career, the better the spot, if you need an incentive to stick around.” The girl winked and patted a sparkling yellow truck, “Took me a while, but I finally snagged the best spot on the whole campus. If you do well in your first-year finals, I’ll leave a recommendation for you. Won’t be useful until a little further down the road, but it’ll give you an upper hand over everyone else when the time comes.”

Jazz gave the girl a tight smile, resolutely not looking behind them as Dad shouted for them to see what he’d found. Mom’s voice carried on the wind like a banshee, clear with excitement as one of her machines beeped excessively.

Danny cautiously shuffled a step back, turning his head just enough to spot Dad’s bright orange suit not at eye level like he’d expected, but up on a balcony with two college bros. He had Chad #1 pressed up to his side, holding his phone out for a selfie; Chad #2 was hanging off his back, shouting something Danny couldn’t make out.

“Look away, Danny; you’ll only encourage him,” Jazz hissed, her smile stretching even wider as their tour guide continued to cheerfully rattle on about the parking lot.

“So, what do you think?” Danny asked, turning away from the chaos behind them.

“About Emory? It’s got its selling points. Our Parents?” Dad called out to them again, making Danny glance back just in time to watch the man dive off the second-story balcony and land on top of a car. The alarm blared to life, and the college bros cheered loudly from their dorm room. Dad sat up with a grin, yelling that he was ok. A frazzled-haired brunette cried out in anger, marching up to Dad and angrily pointing at the damage to what was supposedly her car.

Mom hustled over with her machine, excitedly pulling Dad off of the car and pointing to the other side of the parking lot, the beeping getting louder.

“I don’t know them,” Jazz chirped, pulling him tightly against her side as she started marching after their tour guide, who, at this point, had gotten so sidetracked by a group of girls that she’d forgotten all about them.

“Right…” Danny trailed off, taking another glance as Mom’s teal suit darted past at what could only be classified as the speed of light and towards a creepy white van. Dad lumbered after her, the frazzled girl chasing after in frustration, yelling about insurance. She looked sweaty with fever, her eyes wild and bloodshot, an old bandage wrapped around her clenched fist.

An ambulance siren blared to life off in the distance. Or was it the police?

“So, how do you think the Furry convention is going?” Jazz asked, pointedly not looking as Mom climbed on top of the van and waved her device around. The beeping was shrill now, no matter in which direction she pointed it.

Something like dread lingered in the pit of his stomach, but seeing as his ghost sense hadn’t activated yet, Danny elected to ignore it.

“Good, I think. The last message Sam sent me was a picture of Tucker in a group of brightly colored fursuits. She captioned it with: Pack Blues. It looked like he was crying.”

Jazz raised one of her eyebrows in amusement, shaking her head after a second, “Tell Sam she needs to find the artists soon; she promised to pick something cool out for me.”

“It’s Artist Alley, and she owes me something too,” Danny added, digging into his pocket and pulling out his Fenton PhoneTM and sending another text to Sam. Neither of them had texted him in over 30 minutes, so he wasn’t expecting an answer any time soon. He’d have to get them to tell him everything later.

“There. No guarantee that she sees it right away, but she’s been informed,” Danny mumbled, locking his phone and finally glancing up and over to his parents. Mom was frowning down at the device, tapping away at its screen in confusion even though the beeping hadn’t stopped.

Dad was… 

Well, it was probably for the best that Danny just ignored whatever it was that he was doing. Turning away, Danny studied the parking lot around them.

The ex-tour guide was forcing herself between the group of girls from earlier; it looked like a fight had broken out between them. More college students rushed by as a bell rang, probably signaling a class change or something.

“She doesn’t look ok,” Jazz blurted, drawing Danny’s attention from the quickly growing crowd. The girl from earlier was leaning against one of the parked cars, partially collapsed with a hand to her head.

Worried, Danny took a step forward, intending to see if she needed help, but Jazz held him back, her eyes darting around the parking lot. 

“Don’t.”

“But she,” Danny tried, but Jazz cut him off.

“Something's not right. Look,” She pointed back at the group of fighting girls. Their ex-tour guide was on the ground clutching her arm where she’d apparently been hurt. The culprit was a blond girl being held back by her friends. She had blood smeared all over the bottom of her face, her eyes wild and unseeing. He could see the veins in her face from here; she was so pale.

“She bit her.” Jazz exhaled, pulling Danny closer.

A groan pulled their attention back to the insurance girl; she was now sitting, her eyes glossed with fever and her clothes soaked with sweat. She started coughing, blood spattering against the hand she held loosely in front of her.

A scream echoed from the far end of the lot, making everyone freeze for a split second. In what Danny could only describe as morbid group mentality, everyone turned to look for the source in sync.

Some curly-haired man was on the ground, a bald man straddling him. It looked like the bald man was trying to kiss him, but that idea was quickly thrown away once the bald man lifted his head. Bloody flesh dangled from his mouth, his teeth yellow and drenched in blood. The curly-haired man’s scream turned gargled.

“Oh god,” Jazz gasped, her hold on his upper arm tightening.

“Jazzy!” Dad called, pushing through the slowly panicking crowd.

“Dad!” Jazz shouted, pulling Danny with her. “Come on, Danny,” Jazz ordered, “We need to get out of here.”

“Right,” Danny agrees, letting her pull him even more forcefully as the crowd descends into even more panic. The insurance girl slumps down, going eerily still in the mounting chaos.

“Danny!” Mom calls, pushing past Dad and crouching down in front of them, her hands darting over his head and then resting on his face. She eyed him over, checking for injuries before doing the same to Jazz. “Come on, kids, we need to get to the G.A.V,” She orders, clutching her machine to her chest as she stands up.

Dad eyed the people running and pushing all around them before squaring his shoulders, “Follow me.”

No one said anything for a while as they followed Dad through the chaos. More and more screams filled the air, and if Danny hadn’t already known how fast a situation could get deadly and how to handle it, he would have joined them. That or cried.

“I told you, it’s those pesky ghosts,” Dad grumbled, pausing just long enough to not bulldoze a short asian girl with blood all over her front. She didn’t even notice them, too deep in her shock as she continued to stumble away, “He’s dead, dead,” She mumbled.

Danny took a second to glance back through all the chaos, noting with muted dread that the insurance girl was no longer there. 

“Come on, Danny,” Jazz coaxes, her hold never faltering.

~

The screaming only got worse the longer it took them to get to the G.A.V. By the time it was in sight, Danny could barely hear anything the others were saying, their voices getting lost in all the noise.

“GET IN!” Mom demanded, shoving the two of them forward as she rounded to the back and opened the doors.

Climbing in, Danny watched as Mom dropped her machine and started digging through the storage bins. She pulled out the anti-creep stick and tossed it at Jazz, “Keep that close, sweetie; we’ll be back in a moment.”

“Wait, what?” Jazz blurted, clutching the green bat to her chest as Dad slammed the door closed once she was fully inside.

“It’s those demented ghosts, sweetpea; it’s our job to get the situation under control.” Mom explained like it was a normal day back in Amity. She pulled out Dad’s rocket launcher and four extra ecto-blasters. “You two stay here, where it’s safe. We’ll be back in a jiffy.”

“But they’re-” Danny tried to plead, Mom cutting him off as she kissed his head, then Jazz’s, “Ghosts, Danny. Nothing more.”

She pulled back and slammed the doors closed before he could stop her.

“They're not ghosts, though,” Danny confesses to the silent air, watching as Dad snatched the rocket launcher from Mom’s arms and offered her a kiss with a bright, goofy grin.

Jazz pulled him close, eyeing the people running past with weary eyes, “I know.”

She turned back to watch Mom as she took off, her blaster held up and armed, “They’ll figure it out once ecto-weapons don’t work. You’ll see. They’ll be back in a minute.”

Dad cackled madly, setting off a rocket with glee. 

People were thrown back, the green explosion only adding to the chaos. No ghosts emerged from the groaning humans, nor did ectoplasm splatter all over the place. The attack only spurred the crowd's screams of fear.

Frowning, Dad tossed the rocket launcher on his back and pulled his Ecto-Blaster, aiming at a blood-covered man who turned and started stumbling toward him. The first shot missed, going wide and slamming into the back of some poor girl, her sweater smoldering from the heat, but otherwise no reaction.

The second and third shots landed, burning the man’s clothes, but not hindering him in the slightest. Dad stepped back with a frown, glancing at his blaster in confusion. The blood-covered man launched himself forward, his hands reaching out as Dad dropped the blaster and tried to stop him.

His bloody nails dug into Dad’s arm, who let out a shout of pain, pushing the man away with a grunt. Taking the chance, Dad pulled out his own creep stick, taking a stance as the man stood up again and tried to attack.

Swinging, Dad caught the man’s jaw with a loud crack. The man didn’t scream, just stumbled back with a gurgled groan and tried to approach like he hadn’t just taken what would equate to about 4,500 pounds of force straight to the face.

“What the fuck,” Jazz hissed, her nails digging into Danny’s shoulder as she pulled him back, like that would protect them from seeing what they were.

Dad took another swing. And in what felt like slow motion, a loud crack filled the air as the bat made contact. The man’s skin rippled like disturbed water, shattered bone tearing through and showering the group of screaming people running past in blood.

The man stumbled back, his jaw hanging open at an unnatural angle, blood gushing down and soaking his front.

Jazz gagged next to him, turning away as she tried to keep her food down.

Danny could only watch in shock as Dad prepared to swing again, only for some lady to jump onto his back and bite down.

Dad screamed, dropping his bat to reach up and tug the lady off, throwing her as far away as he could. She landed in a heap of limbs, not even pausing before she was crawling and snagging at someone’s leg as they rushed past.

“Dad!” Jazz shouted, crawling over the seat and pushing the door open. Danny joined her, dropping over the chair to try and dig through the scattered bins. There was a med kit somewhere here; he just has to find it.

“Stay inside, Jazz,” Dad grunted, stumbling back with a hiss as he clamped a hand over his neck.

“You’re bleeding!” Jazz scolds, pushing the door open even more so she could lean out and get a look. “You need a hospital! Bandages! Antibiotics!”

“I’ll be fine, Jazzerinces!” Dad tried to laugh, his pale face tight with pain.

Before Jazz could lecture him about how gross and deadly a human bite could be, the jawless man launched himself forward again, his upper teeth sinking into Dad’s arm and his nails raking over his face and shoulder.

Panicking, Danny shot an ice blast, launching the man back and away. He dropped to the ground, the ice sticking out of his forehead like an arrow. Freezing, Danny stared in shock at the man. He hadn’t-

He hadn’t meant to do that.

“Grab the med kit, Danny!” Jazz shouted, not even blinking in shock at what Danny had just done.

He just killed a man.

He hadn’t even realised what he’d been doing until it was done.

It was a reflex.

He just killed a man out of reflex.

“The med kit, Danny,” Jazz hissed, turning to look away from where she had her hands pressed harshly against Dad’s neck. Dad was deathly pale, leaning heavily against the door as he panted in pain.

Numbly turning, Danny shoved the bins around until he finally found the bright green case. Picking it up, Danny moved over to the open door and dropped the kit, the lid popping open with ease.

“Grab the gauze pads, Danny,” Jazz instructs, softer now.

His hands shook, Danny noted, as he dug around and found the gauze. Peeling the packaging open, Danny handed them over to Jazz. She pulled one of her hands back; it was covered in bright red blood. It was also shaking.

She grabbed the pads, folding them and wadding them into bunches as she turned and shoved them into the wound. Dad groaned in pain, tears filling his eyes as he sluggishly tried to pull away.

“I know, Dad, I know,” Jazz sniffles, “Just hold on.”

“Get the bandages, Danny,” Jazz sniffs, her watery eyes glancing up at the chaos still moving all around them.

Danny’s ears were ringing; his hands were shaking so badly that he thought his skellington would vibrate right out of his skin. Turning back, Danny rummaged through the kit until a roll of bandages fell out next to him. Struggling to pick them up, Danny let out a sob.

He’d just killed a man. 

He just killed a man, and Dad needed help, and Danny’s stupid hands were shaking too much to pick these- 

Stupid. 

Stupid. 

Bandages. 

UP.

Hands grabbed his face, forcing him to look up through his blurry vision. Jazz crouched in front of him, tears in her eyes as she slammed her forehead against his. The shock of the pain forced him to inhale, his sobs rattling his chest.

“It’s going to be ok, Danny,” She declares, “Just take a deep breath.”

“He’s dead, Jazzy,” Danny sobbed, gasping for breath. It felt like the world was falling apart. He’s just killed a man. Why was the world falling apart more than it had for his own death?

“I know,” She whispers, squeezing his face, “I know. He’s dead, and nothing's going to undo that. It’s not your fault, you hear me? It’s not your fault. You just wanted to help Dad; no one's blaming you, Danny. You’re going to be ok. You might not feel like it for a while, but you’ll be ok. I’m not going to lie to you about that, ok? I need you to breathe, alright?”

“Take a deep breath,” Jazz instructed, not pulling back as Danny inhaled and coughed. He’s pretty sure he just got snot all over her shirt.

“Good, that’s good.” Jazz smiled, “Take another one for me. Can you do that?”

Nodding his head, Danny took another breath. It was nowhere near deep or steady, but it was a breath, and he hadn’t immediately choked on it. Jazz nodded, pulling back and picking up the bandages, “Just keep breathing, Danny; you’ll be ok.”

Turning around, Jazz went back to helping Dad, who, now that Danny wasn’t losing his mind to panic, didn’t look as close to death’s doorstep as he first thought. He still needed help, though.

They needed to get him to the hospital. He needs to get in the car.

Taking another breath, Danny shook out his hands and pushed past Jazz to stand outside. Dad clutched tightly onto the door, trying to stay upright. “Danny?” Jazz asked, eyeing the screaming people outside and Dad’s neck as she wrapped it in bandages.

“We need to get him some help,” Danny explained, wrapping Dad’s other arm over his shoulder. It would have looked comical in any other situation: a 6’9” tall man held up by his 5’4” tall son.

“Come on, Dad,” Danny huffs, glancing around as he leads him towards the edge of the car, “Pack up, Jazzy; you’ll be driving.”

Jazz nodded her head, reaching out and tugging the door closed as Danny poked his head around the car.

It was chaos, people dead and sprawled on the ground, blood-soaked maniacs stumbling around and attacking anyone unfortunate enough to be closest. People screamed and cried, running, sprinting, and limping past.

“Just a few steps,” Danny reassured, resolutely ignoring the bodies all around them.

“Danno,” Dad mumbled, using the car as another crutch as they slowly marched forward.

“It’s going to be ok,” Danny said. “We just need you to get in the car, and Jazzy can drive us to the hospital.” It was going to be ok; they had a plan. 

Police sirens bled to life, and angry shouting and screams filled the air. A car revved it’s engain before its driver slammed on the gas and sped off, leaving a trail of people bleeding or dead.

“PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!” Some random cop screamed. Danny glanced up, trying to find him, but it was useless; there were too many people crowding around.

“I SAID HANDS IN THE AIR!”

Grunting, Dad pulled away and leaned against the car, allowing Danny to turn and pull the passenger side door open. Dad stepped forward, grabbed the handrail, and stepped up onto the side step. 

“All right, Dad, one last time, just,” Danny grunted, holding Dad’s full body weight as the man accidentally lost hold of the handrail. Pushing up, Danny managed to push him onto the seat.

Stepping back, making sure he was fully inside, Danny slammed the door closed and took a moment to glance around.

“MOM!” Danny shouted, praying to the ancients that she was nearby.

“DANNY?” Mom shouted back from somewhere to his left. Turning around, Danny cupped his hands around his mouth, “DAD’S HURT! HE NEEDS A DOCTOR!”

“I SAID STAND DOWN!” a man shouted, followed by the sound of gunshots.

Even more people screamed.

Pulling the side door open, Danny crawled in and turned around, his eyes darting around looking for Mom’s bright teal suit.

“Is she coming?” Jazz asked, shoving the keys in and starting the engine.

“Give her a minute,” Danny insists, still not seeing her teal suit.

“KIDS!” Mom yells, finally coming into view from the front of the car. She was covered in blood, a scratch down the side of her cheek, one of her sleeves torn open. Other than that, though, she was standing strong and defiant.

“The weapons aren’t working!” She explains, sprinting to the open door and climbing in next to Danny.

Slamming the door closed, she turned and leaned around the seat, “How bad is it?”

“Bad,” Jazz croaks, twisting the wheel and slamming on the gas. The car lurched forward, sending Danny slamming his shoulder into the back of Jazz’s chair. She sent him an apologetic look but didn’t slow down.

The abandoned machine in the back started beeping. Danny hadn’t even noticed it had stopped.

“Right,” Mom sniffed, handing Danny her weapons as she snatched her abandoned map. “Just find a main road, and I’ll guide you to the hospital from there.”

Dad’s breathing grew wet and raspy; his groans of pain became more frequent.

“STAND DOWN!” another cop screamed, darting out from behind a few cars, his gun aimed at a group of people on the other side of the G.A.V. He opened fire as Jazz sped past, bullets pinging and ricocheting off the metal.

“Mom,” Jazz hissed, glancing around the overrun roads.

“Just keep driving, Jazz,” Mom ordered, frantically flipping and folding the map.

Danny turned and looked out the window. Cops weaved in and out of the crowd, shots ringing out like death tolls. A body sprawled out on the ground behind a yelling police man turned its head.

It should have been impossible; they were dead, they had a bullet hole straight through their chest. 

And yet…

They pushed themselves over, crawling towards the man, latching their hands around his leg, and biting down.

The cop screamed.

Jazz turned, the G.A.V rumbling loudly as the chaos grew just slightly quieter.

The beeping machine continued rhythmically, matching Dad’s every exhale.

This wasn’t caused by a ghost, Danny knew. This was something entirely different. Something they’ve never dealt with before.

He just hoped they’d find a way around it soon.

“And Titus,” Damian continued, giving the dogs a treat for behaving.

“Cool,” Danny replied, side eyeing the weird, worn-down spot right next to a wall off to their right. Looked like something was frequently dragged over the floor or swung open. Hmmm. A place this old? Probably a hidden path, originally for the servants to use to get around. He’ll have to check it out; it could be useful.

“Do you have any pets?” Mr. Casual Mcgee, also apparently named Dick, asked brightly, his arms swinging at his sides as he hummed some tune under his breath.

“Nah,” Danny shook his head, squinting as they passed a weird old painting of some random forest clearing. There was a dead pig painted in the middle of it. “Not allowed, not unless I wanted it to die or get experimented on.”

“Experimented?” Damian asked, his voice tense. Danny glanced back to find the kid glaring daggers into his skull.

“My parents are scientists,” Mad scientist, but Danny wasn’t going to admit that. Not out loud anyway. Something Jazz said was fine, as long as he still acknowledged the truth or whatever, “Free lance, scientists. They also hated following lab safety, so you can imagine just how safe the house was for us kids, let alone for a pet.”

Turning back to look forward, Danny shrugged, “So yeah, no pets. Always wanted a dog, though. Technically had one, but Jazz says it didn’t count.” Danny trailed off with a frown. Cujo wasn’t his dog, per se, but the dog did stop by whenever possible just to hang out and play or literally just to nap on him. Sure, he didn’t own him, but Danny was the one who took care of the dog. Cleaned up his messes, made sure he was healthy, or as healthy as a ghost dog got. So, you know, Cujo was his in spirit. (lol, get it? Because they’re dead?) And he was Cujo’s in turn.

“Didn’t count?” Eyebags asked, giving him a weird look.

“His name’s Cujo, he’s the best dog in the whole afterlife. I used to take care of him; he’d come visit me whenever he felt like it, usually to eat whatever I had on me and then take a nap while I was busy doing whatever it was I was doing that day. I even built a dog house for him out in the woods just outside of town; he loved hanging out there.” Danny smiled to himself, the memory of Cujo’s cheerful bark warming his core. 

He wondered what the dog was up to lately. They hadn’t been able to hang out ever since Danny’s parents got arrested, but that was probably for the best. Gotham did not need an energetic neon green ghost dog running around, especially with how the dog would have reacted to all that Danny’s been through lately.

The group was oddly silent for a while as they continued following Cass through the halls. She hadn’t been telling him what all the rooms were as they passed, but that was fine. He’d have plenty of time to figure it out. That or he wouldn’t because he was moved to the next place. Whichever one came first.

“So, uhh,” Duke, the normal one, spoke up, nervously rubbing his neck, “What’s your opinion on Metas?”

“Neutral, why?” Danny asked, glancing back at the boy. He honestly forgot metas even existed half the time, and when he did remember it was usually because someone was pointing out the fact that he didn’t qualify as one. 

But that wasn’t the Metas fault; that was the Government's.

So, Metas? They existed. Had nothing to do with Danny, which meant he didn't have a strong opinion of them.

“Cool, cool,” Duke nodded, glancing at the others before clapping his hands when no one reacted, “So I’m a meta…”

It was silent again, for a while, before Danny realized they were all waiting for Danny’s response. Glancing back with a raised brow, Danny studied the guy. The group paused, watching him in return.

“Ok, and?”

“That’s it?” Dick blurted, eyes darting between the two.

“Yes?” Danny asked, confused. Was being a Meta really such a big deal? Was this like, supposed to be treated like when someone came out? You know, like being Gay or Trans?

“Congratulations?” Danny continued, rather confused.

Tim snorted before looking away, trying to cover it up. Steph elbowed him, also holding back her snickering.

Damian rolled his eyes before moving closer to stand next to Danny, his face set in the most bland frown Danny’s ever seen. “They are confused by your lackluster response. For some reason, people think being a meta is a big deal. So when Duke reveals his abilities to people, it’s met with one of two reactions: they either freak out and treat him horribly, or they freak out and treat him like some superior being.”

“Oh, well, that sucks,” Danny blinked, glancing down at the two dogs who had followed the kid. “Can I pet them?” He asked, not bothering to look away from the dog's shining eyes.

Damian paused for a moment before sighing, “I suppose I can allow it.”

“Nice,” Danny grinned, crouching down and offering his hands out for them to smell. Ace stepped forward immediately, sniffing his hands for a second before marching forward to lick Danny’s face.

Titus lasted a few seconds longer before joining Ace in slathering Danny’s face in saliva. Danny just grinned, petting the dogs happily.

“I’ve never seen them accept someone so fast,” Dick trailed off, stepping up next to Damian.

“It appears they consider Daniel to be a good person. Hmm, I suppose this arrangement won’t be as awful as I first assumed. You have my official Welcome, Daniel,” Damian admitted, crossing his arms as he watched the dogs absolutely drench Danny in kisses.

“It’s just Danny,” Danny corrected, still giving the dogs all the love they deserve.

Damian frowned, so Danny continued before he could say anything, “I’m planning on getting it legally changed once I’m eighteen, please, just call me Danny.” He was so tired of being called Daniel, it wasn’t even funny. 

“Why do you hate your first name so much?” Tim asked, curiously leaning around Steph as the girl leaned against him for seemingly no reason.

Danny hummed, frowning as Ace backed up, set his paw on Danny’s leg, and stared at him. Titus, noticing Ace’s behavior, backed up and started sniffing Danny, but continued to let him pet him.

Mr. Wayne stepped forward with a frown, about to say something, when Danny answered, “Think of it like this; You know your name is Tim, everyone you know, parents, siblings, friends, teachers, call you by this name or a version of it. It’s the only thing you’ve been called your entire life. Then one day, some douche-canoe calls you Tamothy. That’s not your name; no one's ever called you that before, but they insist that’s your name. And then they prove it because literally all of your legal papers have Tamothy Tim Wayne written on them. And now everyone seemingly remembers that and starts calling you Tamothy.”

Danny glanced up at Tim, who had the most unsettled look on his face, “And then the douche-canoe, who’s already proven to be the worst person ever, tries to kill your Father.”

“After all of that, would you like to be called Tamothy?”

They were all silent for a moment before Tim’s face cringed even more as he shook his head.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” Danny huffed, giving Titus one final pat before standing up. He ignored the crunch from his knee; there was no point in worrying about it. Doc (both human and yeti, sadly) confirmed the knee injury was permanent. And due to his ghostly half-nature, normal and ghostly pain medicine doesn’t work. Frostbite said he’d look into it. Doesn’t change the fact that it felt like a curbstomp from Dan.

Thanks, Dad.

Titus started whining, pawing at Danny’s leg to get his attention. Glancing back down at the dog, he was met with two very upset dogs staring up at him as if he’d just eaten their favorite treats.

“Are,” Duke finally spoke up again, though sounding very worried for some reason, “Are you, like, okay?”

“Yeah,” Danny lied, glancing up from the dogs to look at the boy, “Why?”

“Ace,” Damian spoke up, eyes narrowed at Danny, “Is father’s emotional support dog. He’s trained to detect panic attacks and overstimulation. Titus is currently being trained as a medical alert Dog, for a wide variety of things, but mostly if someone is in physical pain. They just both alerted,” He paused before adding, “To you.”

“Oh,” Danny blinked, staring back at the boy. 

Well, that made sense. Thinking about his first meeting with Vlad always made him unbelievably upset, and his knee was definitely hurting.

Again, thanks, Dad.

He has no idea where the camera’s from. Probably Gotham, then.

“Well,” Z hums, glancing back at Danny and the ring on the table in front of him. “That’s hard to say.”

Batman pauses, not moving as he silently tells her to explain.

Huffing, the woman leans against the table, reaching out to pick up the ring to study it again with a grimace, “I can sense if not all, then most of the magic used here in the mortal realm. Death magic, on the other hand, if it’s not strong, goes completely under the radar. Constantine would have better luck with that stuff. But if it’s similar to Phantom’s magic here,” she points the ring at Danny, “then he won't be able to sense it either.”

“Then theoretically, Phantom should be able to sense it,” Batman muses, turning to look at Danny.

Rolling his eyes, Danny leans back and grumbles, “Great theory, just one thing. I’m not a magic user. The only reason I can sense any magic is through practice. And there’s no ecto in or around that ring. Actually, I take that back; there is some, but that’s just from me holding it for a while. You should be able to sense the ecto if you scan it. You’ve scanned me enough times; it should register as the same.”

“You don’t use magic?” Z asks, turning to actually look at Danny.

“Nope, not a drop,” Danny agreed, crossing his arms.

“Interesting, I thought-,” Z trailed off, eyes narrowed as she studied Danny intently.

“Anyway,” She continues, shaking her head, “can you run some scans and let us know what comes up? It might give us another clue.”

Batman just grunted, taking the ring and walking over to the wall to run his tests.

They stayed there for a while, just waiting for the man to be done. Danny didn’t bother trying any small talk; he’s heard it all before. No point of repeat dialoge.

An hour later, Batman walked back and dropped the ring into Danny’s hands.

“No magical or alien signatures, minimal amounts of ectoplasm detected, but not enough to raise alarms. From what the computer can tell, it’s a simple silver band. The red crystal, on the other hand, shouldn’t exist. It’s not scientifically possible.”

“Really?” Danny asks, raising the ring to get a better look. The red crystal wasn’t anything extraordinary; in fact, it looked like something Danny would see in Sam’s rock collection. Right next to a matching green one. What was that called again? Malachite? Yeah, that sounds right. If he remembers, Sam claims the thing works for protection. So what would red do? Destruction?

“It’s made up of seven known crystals here on Earth: Ruby, Garnet, Red Jasper, Carnelian, Red Tourmaline, Red Beryl, and Red Calcite,” Batman explained, flipping through his screen to continue reading the results.

“So,” Z starts, tapping her chin, “Long life, Composure, Strength and Endurance, Courage, Healing, Emotional Control, and willpower? That’s one heck of a stone. I wonder if they were chosen specifically for those reasons or if they mix to make something else. Wouldn’t be the first time a wanna be alchemist tried to create their own magical element.”

“Possibly,” Batman considered. He stopped to read another result before handing the tablet over to Zatanna. “Nothing indicates anything wrong with the ring besides not being scientifically possible. Like previously stated, there’s no magical residue. It’s just a normal ring. That being said, I would recommend waiting for Constantine or any other Death magic users to get here before deciding what to do with it.”

“Boring,” Danny groaned, holding his head up with his left hand, spinning the ring on the table with the other. “I have a worse idea,” He shot the other two a grin before picking up the ring, “Why don’t I just wear it?”

“Phanotm!” Zatanna gasped, standing up.

Before either of them could stop him, Danny slipped on the ring and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

…

Nothing happened. It just felt like a normal ring.

Scrambling around the table, Zatanna started casting as many magic diagnostic spells as possible. It took a good ten minutes before she was satisfied.

“Thank god,” Z sighed, collapsing back into her chair. Batman stood stiffly next to her, watching Danny with narrowed eyes.

“Welp,” Danny sighed, slapping his knees as he stood up, “that was anticlimactic. Did ya figure out that code Flash sent you?”

“What. Code.” Batman ground out, stiffly walking back over to the hologram computer. He had three new messages.

“Right, forgot,” Danny grumbled, waving it off as he floated into the air and reclined back. The window looked like a very tempting door right now. He wondered if he could make it to Jupiter and have enough time to find the largest diamond again. That had taken ages to do last time.

“I see,” Batman huffed, slowly relaxing as Danny continued to be perfectly fine. He opened one of his messages, huffing fondly as he typed a response. Turning his head, Danny watched as the man opened the rest. Waiting for the one message they still needed.

And just like expected, a new message popped up, marked urgent.

Grinning, Danny dropped back into his seat and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

Batman opened the message, and there, just like 93 other times, the code from Flash appeared.

“Here you go!” Danny chirped, passing the paper to Z.

She sent him a confused look, slowly accepting it as she looked back over at Batman. 

“He’ll need your help for this one,” Danny explained, grinning widely.

This was going to be very, very, entertaining.

The last thing he remembered was talking with Jax about…

Oh.

Oh shit.

Ignoring the smoke stinging his eyes, Danny looked around the now recognizable life pod. The white LED lights were off, the pod lit instead by a growing fire.

Cursing, Danny frantically looked around for the stupid fire extinguisher; it had to be around here somewhere, it had smacked him in the face after all. The floor was covered with scattered supplies, none of which was the thing he was looking for. Glancing up, Danny paused as he finally noticed a large metal sheet buried in the wall, practically bisecting the seat he should have been strapped to.

Wincing, Danny glanced back at the floor. It had to be around here somewhere, it had to. Crouching down, Danny started tossing things away, hoping the damn thing hadn’t exploded or something. Knowing his luck, it probably had.

The fire was getting worse, the smoke getting harder and harder to breathe around. His watering eyes weren’t helping at all, the stinging just making his headache worse.

Finally, after a minute of frantic searching, he found the extinguisher buried under a ripped suit. Tossing the useless fabric to the side, he snatched the bottle and fumbled with the lock mechanism.

“Come on, you piece of-” Danny cursed, one of his finger nails bending and breaking as he tried to break the safety ties.

“Fuck! Ancients damned, ” Putting his bleeding finger in his mouth on instinct, Danny angrily turned and smashed the bottle against the ladder, and with a loud crack and hiss, a white misty powder started spraying out of the nozzle.

“YES!” Danny cried, turning and aiming the mist at the roaring flames. Almost instantaneously, the flames started dying down, like they hadn’t been there in the first place.

In a matter of seconds, the pod was free of the fire, leaving Danny standing breathlessly in the middle of the smoky and now dusty room. Coughing, Danny tossed the extinguisher to the side and looked up.

The top hatch waited before him, like a shining beacon to his freedom. 

The smoke was annoying, and he’d definitely needed to air it out, but could he? He didn’t know where he was; he could be in the middle of a lava pit, the air could be made out of some poisonous gases instead of oxygen, and there could be some strange alien bacteria just waiting for him to open the hatch.

Glaring at the pod walls around him, Danny hissed in anger. This was a lose-lose situation; he either opens that hatch and possibly loses the only viable patch of “clean” oxygen he has, or he doesn’t and lives in a permanently smoky and nasty-smelling pod. A nasty-smelling pod that would slowly lose all oxygen anyway because he’s actively breathing it and replacing it with carbon dioxide.

Angrily lashing out, Danny kicked the ladder, not even caring when the metal bent easily around his foot. 

Here he was, Danny Fenton, as a stupid seventeen-year-old first-class moron, stuck on a random ass planet, who knows where in space, stuck in a life pod because again, he’s stuck on an ALIEN PLANET and has no clue if he’s even allowed to friken open a fucking hatch.

Crouching down, Danny pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, pressing harshly until he started seeing white flashes. Holding his breath, Danny silently screamed. He screamed until his face felt hot and his throat stung.

Gasping, Danny pulled his hands away and clenched his hair instead, his blurry eyes staring at the singed floor beneath him.

Ok.

This was fine. Everything was fine.

He was still half alive, and he managed to put out the fire.

Taking another breath, coughing because the smoke still existed whether he acknowledged it or not, Danny forced himself to calm down. Denial for the win, everyone. Who knew Egypt was so easy to travel to?

Anyway.

The fact was, if he wanted to survive, he was going to have to leave the pod at some point. He couldn’t just sit here and wait for someone to come rescue him. The chances of that happening anytime soon were slim to none. He’d starve to death before they’d even make it halfway to him. Run out of clean Oxygen way before that, too, even.

No one outside of the crew even knew the Captain had accepted a short side mission. Hell, not even the crew at the last Phase gate knew Captain Hollister had planned to temporarily change course.

It had been by chance that Hollister was in hearing range of those Green Lanterns; no one asked him to take it upon himself to volunteer to do the scan, yet he had done it anyway, because that’s just who he was.

Is?

Was? 

Surely the Captain managed to make it out alive, right? He had his own designated life pod; there was no way he hadn’t. Yeah, Captain Hollister was probably out there somewhere, following protocol and gathering up the survivors.

If the planet wasn’t outright hostile to them, that is.

Anyway, the point was no one, but maybe those two Green Lanterns, even knew that the Aurora had temporarily changed course to pull a slingshot maneuver around some random ass planet because some Mongolian ship went missing.

If Danny had to guess, Captain Hollister only agreed to do the scan because one, they were the only ones with the newest technologies available, which meant if they couldn’t find whoever they were looking for, then no one would. And two, in hopes of improving Alterran-Mongolian diplomatic relations.

The Aurora was a brand-new Alterra long-range capital ship, equipped with state-of-the-art technology and world-class scientists and engineers. If Captain Hollister managed to find that missing ship, he would not only be reinforcing positive public opinion but also possibly improving his own chances at advancing further up the company and, in this specific scenario, earn the respect of one of Alterra’s major rivals. 

Basically, Captain Hollister had done what any ambitious captain would have done. His first mistake was not notifying anyone not currently on the Aurora of his plans.

His second mistake was still going through with the slingshot maneuver when he knew for a fact that something was wrong with the ship's navigational systems. Sure, the man has had plenty of experience with the maneuver, but he’s never completed one on this large of a ship before. Let alone the fact that he hadn’t had someone double-check that nothing else was wrong before attempting the maneuver manually.

The point was, no one was coming to save Danny, besides maybe other survivors if they hadn’t been killed already. And the only way Danny would be able to know for sure if he was fucked for not was by leaving the pod.

Taking another shallow breath, Danny rubbed his face and glared at the top hatch. The only thing he had going for him was that he was already Half dead. If he had been literally anyone else, they’d have no choice but to open the hatch and contaminate the pod. Potentially losing all viable oxygen.

Danny could go intangible.

Taking another breath, Danny clenched his eyes to steady himself before carefully climbing up the still uncomfortably warm ladder. Once at the top, which wasn’t that far up, Danny clenched his jaw and eyes before throwing caution out the door.

Phasing his head through the hatch, Danny waited.

A soft breeze blew by, ruffling his tangled hair and cooling off his warm and slightly burned skin. Blinking, Danny gasped in wonder, forgetting to hold his breath.

As far as the eye could see, crystal clear water lay before him. Waves splashing gently against the side of the pod, creating the gentle rocking motion that Danny hadn’t even noticed since waking up. 

It was beautiful.

“Interstellar could never,” Danny blurted, pausing when his brain finally registered that he was breathing perfectly fine.

Taking a deep breath, Danny relished how bright and crisp the salty air felt against his sore lungs. If he were being truthful, he couldn’t think of a single place on earth with such clean, fresh air. Which, wow, that’s depressing.

Shaking his head, Danny slowly looked around, taking in his surroundings with a more critical eye. Water as far out as the eye could see, and under the surface, bright, colorful coral? And fish.

Lots and lots of fish.

Or what he assumed was fish.

Right. 

Cool. 

cool.

Phasing back inside, Danny examined the hatch above him. There were metal latches hooked onto the inside of the lip; it looked like they were pulled tight, probably designed to keep the seal even in extreme circumstances, like getting launched at high velocities into water.

He hoped whoever designed them got paid the big bucks. They didn’t even look like they had budged a millimeter. Talk about good quality.

There should be…

Aha! There it was! Reaching up, Danny pulled on the release lever and pushed up on the lid with his other hand. With a hiss and click, the hatch moved up, and the claw latches dropped down, banging against the metal side panels. Huffing, Danny let go of the lever and used both hands to open the hatch the rest of the way.

Immediately, smoke rushed past him, the life pod depressurizing and getting significantly clearer.

Dropping back down off the ladder, Danny finally took a moment to look around.

There were two seats, one of them bisected by a metal panel. (Why did Ryley try to go get others? They wouldn’t have fit.) Glancing at the opposite side of the pod, Danny found a softly sparking breaker box. Based on the dent on the panel, the fire extinguisher most likely broke the panel loose sometime after Danny had been knocked out. He was lucky he hadn’t been impaled with the loose metal or had been thrown into it.

The floor was covered with what he assumed had been stored in the open bench behind the ladder. Looked like the lid hadn’t been closed properly during the pod's last maintenance check. He’d have to go through all of it and see if he could salvage any of it or if it needed to be tossed.

Next to the sparking fuse box sat an interesting device. Danny had an idea what it might be, but until he restored power, he’d keep his hope held back.

Other than that, there wasn’t much else of note.

Rolling his eyes, Danny squeezed past the ladder and over to the fuze box, studying the sparking wire. It was only nicked, which means it should be an easy fix. That is, if he could find any electrical tape.

Glancing at the messy floor, Danny quickly spotted what looked like a small repair kit. Picking up the small navy blue bag, he was greeted by the sight of a small rubber mallet, a screw driver, a small roll of black electrical tape, Ryley’s name written in Sharpie on the side of the bag, and a very familiar 10mm wrench.

The name Jax was etched into the side, obviously worn down by constant use and time.

Closing his eyes, Danny took a steadying breath. He couldn’t break down right now; he had shit to do. He could worry about everyone’s fates later. For all he knows, Jax and Ryley made it out alive and are currently fist-fighting each other.

Yeah.

Taking another breath, Danny ignored the familiar wrench and snatched the tape. Carefully dropping the tool bag on the bench to his right, Danny got to work fixing the wire.

Once he was sure the nick was properly covered and the wire was connected to both fasteners, he carefully flipped the breakers back on.

It was silent for a moment, and just as doubt started to form, the lights flickered back on, and a soft whirring noise filled the air. Sighing in relief, Danny turned and watched as the strange box flashed brightly before cracking open and folding out to reveal that it was, in fact, a fabricator.

“Oh, thank the Ancients, I could kiss you,” Danny breathed, moving over to examine it for any damage. Besides a few scratches most likely caused by the fire extinguisher, it was in perfect working order.

“Ok, Danny, remember your survival checklist: Shelter, water, food, and other crap. Shelter, check for now. The life pod should hold up for a while, unless the need to move arises. Plan to stay here.” 

Nodding his head, Danny turned and glanced at the floor, “Water… There are a few bottles here, but they won’t last long. I was going to say I literally had an endless supply right outside, but now that I think about it, there's no way I’m drinking salt water for the rest of my time here, so, uh, on the to-do list.” 

Crouching down, Danny picked up one of the weird dark pages, the word MRE printed across in bright orange. “Food… Just like the water, there seem to be a few packets here. And once those run out, there’s plenty of alien life forms swimming around. I’m sure I can find something safe to eat. And if not… Well, that’s what the fabricator’s for. And if even that doesn’t work? I can just hope and pray I don’t die immediately."

Taking another look around, Danny spotted a strange object rolled right underneath one of the seats. Eyebrow lifted, Danny reached over and picked it up. The moment it was in his hands, it started to glow, and a moment later, a bright blue holographic screen appeared.

“Holy shit,” Danny laughs. It was an Alterra PDA. How in the world he hadn’t recognized it on sight, he’d never know. These things were amazing, and unfortunately, only given to Higher personnel. Danny, as an intern, would have to work at Alterra for at least another year before he’d be even considered eligible to use one.

The screen blinked and flickered before the coding finally seemed to kick into gear. The Alterra logo flashed on screen, a jolly little tune chiming from the hidden speaker.

“Scanning,” a female-sounding voice stated, making Danny’s eyes widen. He didn’t know the PDA’s had a built-in automated intelligence. 

So cool.

“You have suffered minor head trauma, smoke inhalation, and nail bed damage,” the AI reported, “This is considered an optimal outcome.”

“Oh, really?” Danny blurted, staring incredulously down at the screen. It seemingly glitched in reply.

“This PDA has now rebooted in emergency mode,” The screen flashed, images of things with locks overlaid being unlocked flashed by, “With one directive: to keep you alive on an alien world. Please refer to the databank for detailed survival advice. Good luck, Alterra Corp.”

“Well, okay then,” Danny huffed, tapping the screen. It flickered and went dark before lighting up again, the word “Scanning” filling the screen once again. 

If you had asked for Danny’s opinion of Alterra a few months ago, he’d have told you it was one of the safest and best employee-focused corporations in the space industry. Now, having worked for them and seen all the behind-the-scenes stuff, he can safely claim that Alterra was like literally every other company in existence. 

Money-driven.

Sure, they definitely had one of the best safety ratings out there, and they definitely had great employee benefits, but they’re still a corporation. They cut corners when they know they can get away with it. They pinch pennies and don’t readily add things they believe aren’t necessary. The fact that there was an Alterra PDA provided in (presumably) all the Life pods was surprising.

Mind-boggling actually.

Tapping the screen again, text appeared, and the AI’s voice started reading it aloud.

“Scan complete.” 

Was something wrong with it? Was it broken? That was hard to believe. These things were built to be nearly indestructible. 

“If you are reading this, then you have survived an emergency evacuation of a Capital-class ship equipped with Alterra technology. Minor Head trauma, smoke inhalation, and nail bed damage were detected. This is considered an optimal outcome.” Yeah, yeah. Don’t care. Danny sighed, tapping the screen as it started to dim. Twisting it around, Danny studied the scratched handle. Nothing looked broken, so it was most likely an internal thing. Should he risk cracking it open to check?

“Congratulations: the hard part is over.”

Snorting, Danny flipped it back over and scrolled. Hard part, yeah, right. This is probably just the beginning. The message continued, repeating what the AI had already stated, “Your PDA has automatically rebooted-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it already, get on with it, will ya?” Danny grumbled, scrolling back up to see if there was any option to skip.

There wasn’t.

“-Hostile alien world. If that is not possible, it will alert salvage teams to the location of your remains.” Well, that’s not dark. Rolling his eyes, Danny watched as new icons appeared one by one.

“In emergency mode, you have many features available to you: Full monitoring of vital signs for timely survival advice. Blueprints for fabricating a range of essential survival equipment, tailored to your environment. Onboard camera, microphone, and OCR technology for short-range situational analysis: Cross-compatibility with all Alterra-compliant products.”

Huh, does that mean he could take a selfie?

“Your personal and work files have been encrypted and may be retrieved at a later date by a licensed engineer. Good luck, Alterra Corp.” The AI finished, the text and icons disappearing and getting replaced with a new screen. There were six tabs at the top, all labeled with simple icons. The first tab was selected and underneath, the screen was split in two; on the right side was an outline of a human body, surrounded by six empty bubbles, Equipped written right above it. On the left was what looked like an inventory space from a game. It also had Inventory written above it.

He wondered what it could possibly be used for; it’s not like it could magically store things for him, right? Note the sarcasm. He’s seen what these PDA’s could do, he’s just surprised how… video game inspired the whole thing was.

Clicking the second tab, Danny was greeted with an empty page labeled blueprints. The next tab was a PING manager, presumably that means there's some sort of GPS attached to the Device. That could be very useful. The Fourth tab was for photos which was when he found out he could, in fact, take a selfie. He looked like shit. The fifth tab was for logs. The previous message from Alterra was the only one so far. The final tab was an empty encyclopedia.

Taking a breath, danny pressed the off button and watched as the holographic screen disappeared.

This, he thought, was going to be a very interesting day.

“Damian?” Danny asked, waiting for his boyfriend to look up at him before continuing, “Are you ok? You seem upset.” More than upset really, the usually invisible emotions started turning a translucent red and dark blue. It looked like someone had dumped a whole bucket of dyed foam over Damian’s shoulders.

He’s only ever seen Damian this upset when his family was involved, usually after some kind of argument. Also usually with his father.

The red and blue foam thinned and turned to steam, slowly wafting up and away from his boyfriend, invisible pulses of affection replacing them as he replied, “I’m fine, just arguing with my siblings.”

Yep, called it.

“Oh,” Danny verbally acknowledges, blinking his eyes when a sharp pain sparked right behind his eyes. Man, this headache-migraine-concussion-whatever was causing his head pain, was killing him.

Suddenly the door swung open, filling the room with even more bright light. Turning his head, Danny blinked and watched as two blurry figures silently marched into the room. 

It took a second, but his eyes eventually adapted enough to reveal exactly who it was that was barging in so rudely. The Infamous Bat himself, and his Red bird partner.

Halfheartedly, Danny gestured at the chairs next to Damian, already too tired and annoyed to care about all of this. He just wanted to go home, get some more sleep and go on his date. Was that too much to ask for?

“Sure,” Danny huffed, narrowing his eyes as the two didn’t even bother trying to close the door once fully in the room, “barge right in without knocking. Just make yourselves at home, why don’t cha?”

Red Robin let out a silent huff, but kept his face as neutral as he possibly could. Batman on the other hand, didn’t even look like he had heard what Danny had said, just stood there like a silent statue.

Right, well, Danny wasn’t sure how these “Just a few questions, totally not an interrogation"’s were supposed to go, but he wasn’t going to deal with whatever emo crap the bat has going on.

“Comfy? Cool, Don’t care,” Danny started, pushing himself up and ignoring the sharp sting in his chest, he was healed. It's just going to be sore for some time, nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. He waved Damian off when the man went to stand up. 

“Here’s the run down; I was at the library with my boyfriend, he had to talk with his brother and we both know how long that takes so I decided I'd just leave. I was cornered by Nancy and her boyfriend Wyatt before leaving and was forced to walk with them. Nancy wanted to bring me along to some party-”

“Woah, ok,” Red Robin cut in, raising his hands to try and get Danny to stop.

Glaring, Danny pointed at both of them, “Zip it, Furry Boy. The only reason I'm even talking to you two is because that one,” jabbing his thumb to the side, Danny continued, “was worried and would have pulled out his hair if I pulled my usual stunt.”

“What usual stunt?” Damian asked, amused, confused, and somewhat offended. It was an interesting color combination.

“Jumping out the window,” Danny huffed, waving blindly at where the windows were, “Jazz’s took me to some rock climbing classes a little after my Accident, not sure why considering she knew how much I hated hospitals. The next time I woke up in one I figured I'd test out my new skills. It worked, and stuck. Anyway,”

Turning back to the two men still standing in front of the still open door, Danny continued talking, not even stopping to breathe, “As I was saying, I'd usually just make my way to the police station when I had the chance and leave my statement with them. So here’s what’s going to happen; you zip it, I talk, and when I'm done, maybe I'll answer a few questions. Depends on how stupid they are.”

“Got it?” Danny asked, then continued without bothering to wait for a reply. He was tired, and in pain, sue him. 

“Nancy wanted to drag me to some party, I declined, she whined, it was a whole thing. Wyatt was the one leading us to wherever it was she wanted to go. When he turned around to add his useless opinion to the conversation, some cloaked asshat wacked him over the head and knocked him out. Like thirty seconds later Nancy and I are surrounded by a mob of cloaked idiots and get captured. Some time later, don’t ask me how long, I'm time blind, we’re dragged into a dark warehouse and forced to sit with a group of other hostages."

Danny scratched his forehead as he continued, “Mr.  totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem joined the other cultists a little after we got there and started spouting off the requirements his sacrifice needed to meet, which was annoying to hear because half the people taken were women, blond, or both. He claimed he needed a dark haired guy. The incompetence was staggering.”

Rolling his eyes Danny rubbed his bandaged wrist, "anyway, I get dragged from the group and tied to a chair. After getting gaged, because apparently they can’t deal with a few insults. One of them slices the crap out of my arm and collects my blood to mix in with some shitty paint. Then the camera dude shoves the camera in my face and is really incompetent because apparently he can’t remember a simple sentence. Like seriously, who needs-”

“Danny,” Damian cut in, fondly gesturing for him to get back on track.

Blinking Danny sighs and gives Dami a quick appreciative smile, “right, anyway, Mr. Cult leader decides to start chatting about summing something and whoever came up with the name Pariah Dark must have been having a ruff day because wow, anyway, they start chanting and sound really bad and off key, and then I get stabbed. Now we’re here.”

It was silent for a moment before Red Robin slowly inhaled, “right, so a few questions. A lot actually-”

“You’re trying to talk around something, what is it?” Batman demands, still standing stoically still. He had a few strands of irritation and confusion bubbling around him, but nothing else of note. Huh, good to know the dark knight was an expert at controlling his emotions. Makes sense now that Danny thinks about it though, what with Batman being known as this-

“I suggest you rephrase your question,” Damian hissed, pulling Danny out of his mind. Blinking, Danny glances at his boyfriend then back at the brooding bat.

Batman stayed silent, but a violet string wafted around his throat. What could Batman possibly be nervous about? Seriously, it’s not like Damian was going to kill him or anything.

Danny might though, if they don’t start hurrying things up that is.

“You rushed the end of your retelling, I wish to know why,” he amended, his attention now fully back on Danny. Red Robin stayed silent, looking between the three of them as if someone just took a bite out of a grenade as if it was an apple and hadn’t died.

“Right, well first of all, don’t use the W word around me ever again.” Red Robin’s brow furrowed as he focussed on Danny, “Second, It’s mostly blurry and I was in a lot of pain. Anything I remember isn’t going to be any help to you, so yeah, I rushed over it.”

Before Batman could ask something else, or for clarification for whatever reason, Red spoke up, “right, the way you were speaking implies you don’t like Nancy and her boyfriend, Wyatt. Yet, according to witnesses, you volunteered yourself to be the sacrifice when it looked like the leader was going to pick Wyatt.”

Damian sat up straight, his head whipping around so he could stare at Danny, “WHAT?!”

Gesturing for Damian to wait a moment, Danny rolled his eyes. These two were going to cause him so many problems if he doesn’t end this soon. Fine, plan V it is. “To answer your non-question; yeah, definitely don’t like those two. Acephobic and generally just idiots all around. But,” Danny stressed, rubbing his face tiredly; both because he actually was tired, and he needed a second to pray to clockwork this worked, “Old habits die hard, apparently.”

“Old habits,” Damian repeated, his eyes narrowed.

“Not that it’s any of their business,” Danny glared at the two still standing in front of him before turning to Damian. Why couldn’t he have just left a statement with the police again? Oh right, Damian wouldn’t look good bald and he’d probably be too mad to agree to go on their date later. “But after dealing with Vlad for so long, it’s just a habit at this point to volunteer."

Plan V: When all else fails, blame Vlad. Chances are, it’s actually true about ninety-nine percent of the time. And hey, looks like it’s true in this case too! It’s just definitely not why Danny volunteered. Do they need to know that though? No, no they don’t.

“I’m sorry,” Red blurted, rubbing his face. He had navy blue bubbles foaming around his head. “Who’s Vlad? And what does he have to do with you willingly volunteering to be a sacrifice???”

Narrowing his eyes at the man, Danny waited a moment before sighing. “Dami, can I have my phone? Please?”

Damian turned and dug through Danny's bag, quickly finding the desired device. Handing it over, Danny ignored how Damian intensely watched as he glanced at the space themed background, the date, and then off to the side to think. It was 9:32, round that down to 9:30, and it’s Tuesday october 13th which means Gotham’s LST should beeee… 10 hours and 30 m. Minus Gamma Cassiopeiae’s RA which is 0 hours 56 min and 42.5 seconds that makes… like 9.34? 9 is positive which means the star is to the west.

And west means Wes Weston’s birthday.

…He should probably consider changing his password equation, thinking and doing math with this headache sucked.

Entering Wes's birthday into his phone, Danny clicked on his photos, scrolled down quickly, and pulled up one of the ones dad had taken. Vlad had an arm wrapped around Danny, his nails digging into his shoulder. While Danny looked both extremely annoyed and frustrated, Vlad looked pained and mad. Mostly because Danny's foot had stomped down on the man’s toes the moment the photo was taken. The whole reason Danny even kept the damn thing, really. Vlad’s face was priceless.

Turning the phone around Danny gestured to the photo, “that’s Vlad. Vlad Masters. He’s my godfather. Long story short, because again, it’s none of your business, Vlad wanted to kill my dad and hook up with my mom. He’s crazy and pulled some serious shit. Dad’s oblivious to it and think’s they’re best friends. I’ve lost count of how many times the man’s kidnapped me and my sister in one of his crazy schemes. I usually volunteered to do whatever it was he had planned so my sister wouldn’t have to deal with it. So, like I said. Habit.”

Red Robin snatched Danny's phone, his eyes wide, “Vlad Masters, as in the missing for the past three years, obviously corrupt Ceo of Dalv-co? That Vlad Masters?”

Rolling his eyes, Danny leaned back against the bed and looked at Damian, trying to convey just how done he was with this whole thing. Damian stared at him for a long moment, before pinching his nose, “Red Robin, I would suggest handing my Boyfriend his phone back before he does something stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it works,” Danny huffed, crossing his arms.

“Oh?” Red asked, glancing up while trying to sneakily swipe through his phone.

“Astra, Lock my phone,” Danny ordered, glaring at the red glad man. So rude. First they can’t close a door, then they can’t take a hint that Danny doesn't want anything to do with them, and now the guy’s trying to snoop through his phone.

Unbelievable.

Red Robin glanced down as Danny's phone beeped, the screen going pitch black. “What in the-”

“I didn’t give you permission to snoop through my phone, and I honestly have no clue why you would even want to,” Danny grumbled, leaning even more back. He was tired. And heavily debating making a run for it. A glance at Damian's narrowing eyes told him it was a bad idea. Danny eyed the window for a moment, if he could just-

“What do you know of the Ghost King?” Batman asked, still having not moved this entire time.

Blinking, Danny stared the man dead in the eyes, "Absolutely nothing.”

The Bat’s eyes narrowed, the room staying eerily silent. 

Danny didn’t look away, just continued to calmly stare back at the man and blink tiredly. He was telling the truth; Danny Fenton, the person currently getting death glared by the batman shouldn’t know anything about the current ghost king, and therefore doesn’t. Danny Phantom, on the other hand, knows a hell of a lot about him.

“Yet you’re not confused about his existence,” Batman continued, his voice grading on Danny's ears. “Considering my files claim you were raised an Aitheist, you should be…”

“Shocked?” Danny quipped, rolling his eyes. Why was he even bothering with answering any of this? He clearly stated that he might answer their questions. If they weren’t stupid.

“Look B-man,” Danny sighed, pinching his nose, “I’ve lived and seen some shit. I may have been raised with an Aitheist mindset, but I'm not one. I’m not sure what I believe in, but it doesn’t matter. We live in a world with “Gods” and Aliens waving on the news, fighting other “Gods” and aliens. More and more people are developing powers and abilities. More than Half of Gotham has been killed and brought back to life someway somehow at some point over the past who cares how long. The existence of ghosts isn’t all that shocking. Learning they have a king, a little surprising, but not completely out of the ball park.”

Looking up, Danny continued, “can we please cut the crap and get to what you really want to ask?”

“And what’s that?” Batman inquired, tilting his head just the slightest bit. The first movement he’s made this whole time.

“Well, let’s see here,” Danny huffed holding up his hand to count off his points, “We all know you don’t just go and question any and all victims you happen to save or had a part of saving. If you go and question someone, it’s because they have answers. Answers to things no one else could answer or are the most conveniently available one with those answers.” 

Gesturing to his side, Danny continued, “My boyfriend can tell you what I was doing at the library. Nancy and Wyatt can tell you what we were doing before getting taken. The other hostages can tell you what happened during. The live stream can literally show you it. Heck, event he cults could answer any of your questions. You could have gotten answers from any of them over the past ten hours, which you most likely have. Yet, you’re here. Which means you need something from me. The only thing no one else can answer is why exactly the ritual actually worked when the cultists obviously tried it many times before, and two what happened after getting stabbed.”

Glancing up, Danny glared at the man, “so which one is it?”

It was quiet for a moment before Red Robin slowly turned to Damian and then just pointed at Danny with his phone. Damian leaned back in his chair with a smirk. Eyeing the two, Danny almost missed when Batman finally took a step forward. Quickly shrugging off his confusion about the other two’s actions, Danny focused on the man now towering over him.

“Both,” Batman demanded, his arms crossed. The slightest drop of surprise and intrigue floating around the man.

Crossing his arms, Danny raised one of his eyebrows, “one.”

Batman stayed silent just staring at him.

Shrugging, Danny turned away and refocused on Red Robin, who had yellow sparks of surprise and awe leaping off his still raised arm. “Can I have my phone back, or are you just going to keep it?”

“Oh, uh,” Red stumbled, glancing between Danny and Batman. “Here,” he awkwardly stepped forward, handing it back to Danny.

“Thanks,” Danny huffed, holding the power button for three seconds then rapidly pushing it four times. After a second of waiting he pressed and held it for five seconds. With a beep his phone lit up, the lockscreen greeting him. Instead fo the usual space background, a picture of one of sam’s many, many plants.

Typing in it’s nickname, graciously given by Tucker in senior year, Danny pulled up the zoo’s website. Looks like Delilah was still going to be brough out at 3. Plenty of time for Danny to get home, take a nap, and then head over.

Waving his phone, Danny caught Damian's attention, “I’m still holding you to your promise.”

Damian blinked for a moment, his brows furrowed before his eyes widend. Groaning, Dami slumped and ran a hand through his hair, “Danny, Beloved. You were literally stabbed last night, and you still want to go to the Zoo?”

Narrowing his eyes, Danny pointed a threatening finger at him, “you promised. And I'm going either way. Who I spend my date with depends on you and whatever random stranger Delilah deems acceptable.”

“I’m sorry,” red coughed, trying not to laugh, “did you just threaten to ditch him and go on a date with a stranger?”

“Yes,” Danny answered with zero shame or hesitation. Damian buried his head in his hands in response.

Batman dropped his arms, taking the slightest step forward, “Both,” he demanded again.

Damian slowly raised his head, his eyes narrowed in annoyance and anger. Red Robin started at his partner with wide eyes, shooting quick glances at damian like he was going to explode.

Pausing for a moment, Danny studied the large man still glaring at him.

“You know what?” Danny asked, tossing his phone to the side and ripping out his IV. Damian rocketed out of his chair, but Danny had already thrown his legs over the other side of the bed and stood up. Marching his way over to the man, Danny shoved the man back and then again, pushing him right out the door, “we’re done here. You can collect my statement from the police. Bye.”

Turning, Danny studied Red Robin for a moment before silently gesturing out the door at the frozen man still standing there, not moving a muscle.

Red glanced nervously between him and the door before carefully making his way over and cautiously walking past Danny and out the door.

Nodding his head once, Danny grabbed the door and closed it firmly. Taking a deep breath, danny shoved the growing pain in his head away.

Turning, he marched his way over to his bag and then to the provided closet. His clothes sat on one of the sleeves, thankfully, clean of blood, though the shirt still had the rips and cuts from the knife and black stains from the paint. Shrugging, Danny grabbed them and made his way to the bathroom.

Pausing just before entering the small room, Danny turned his head to look at Damian, “I’m going home, you can either come with me or meet me at the zoo at three.”

Damian was silent, his eyes strangely intense before his shoulders sagged and he heaved a heavy sigh, “Danny, Beloved, I’m staying with you for the rest of the week.”

“Oh, well, guess you can finally meet Nancy and Wyatt then.”

Damian dropped back into his chair, his head in his hands.

Damian immediately sat right across from him, scowling down the table at the girls giggling and pointing at him. Tim, on the other hand, hesitated, eyes lingering on the open spot to Danny’s left, before sighing and sitting down next to his brother.

Before anyone could try to start a conversation, or Ancients forbid, one of the girls moved closer, the man Danny had talked to earlier clapped his hands and shouted for everyone to quiet down.

“Greetings, everyone!” The man cheered, his bright orange shirt standing out amongst the sea of children. “My name is Hector. Welcome to Camp Mahkwa Ahtawaani! I’m so glad everyone has chosen to join us this year!”

“Camp Mahwhatist?” one of the girls asked, turning to look at the one next to her.

“Mock-qua,” the girl replied, rolling her eyes before continuing, “and before you ask, it’s oct-a-won-y. Camp Mock-qua Oct-a-won-y.”

“Camp Bear Tree?” Danny mutter glancing to the side where more adults in bright orange stood. The older lady from before was staring right at him, face stern. Well, that wasn’t creepy.

“What?” Tim asked, turning to look at him.

“Nothing,” Danny denied, quickly turning away and focusing on the rest of Hector's speech.

“I am happy to announce that the camp is celebrating its 88th opening anniversary! We’ve been a safe place for kids to reconnect with nature since 1918! Camp Mahkwa Ahtawaani is proud to claim the title of being one of the first and longest-standing camp programs invented here in our magnificent Shawnee National Forest.”

The kids clapped loudly as the man paused, smiling brightly at them in what seemed to Danny as forced cheerfulness.

“Safe?” One of the older boys sitting at table three scoffed, “What about all those missing kids, huh?”

Immediately, the younger kids quieted, glancing around at eachother in growing panic. Before they could start freaking out, Hector quickly cut in, “Unfortunate accidents. It happens everywhere, every year. A child ignores the rules and wanders off. There’s nothing to worry about if you all just follow the rules and stick to the trails.”

The kids settled a little, though still shared nervous glances. The boy who spoke scoffed, but sat back, not adding anything else. Tim shared a glance with Damian before sneakily pulling out his phone and typing something.

Danny rolled his eyes and leaned back. A twig snapped off to the left, drawing his attention. Turning his head, Danny watched as the small bear from earlier poked its head out of a bush, looking all around the hidden clearing just out of sight before slowly stumbling out and to the right, pausing once in the middle, slowly turning its head, and meeting Danny’s eyes.

Freezing, Danny waited to see what it would do. It stood there for a long moment before slowly continuing its way across the clearing. It broke eye contact right before entering the bush, quickly disappearing again. Danny wanted to follow it, though he couldn’t quite tell if it was because he truly was that bored with the camp already or if it was because its mother might be kind enough to put him out of his misery.

“Speaking of the rules,” Heckor continued, “Rule number one: Stay on the clearly marked paths at all times. Those of you who break this rule will deal with an appropriate punishment, decided by your group's leader. Rule number two: All children must be accompanied by two or more children when not in their cabin. Those found to have broken this rule will be reprimanded first, then punished if it occurs a second time. There will not be a third.”

Danny snorted, there was definitely going to be a third if the looks on some of theses kid’s faces meant anything.

“Rule number three!” Hector continued, turning to look at the other side of the camp as he passed through the tables, “All children must be inside their cabins with the door locked by the time the sun sets. The only exception is group activities at night. Your group leader will check in to make sure you’re all following this rule.”

“Rule Number four: If your group leader orders you to do something, do it.” Hector turned again, resting his hands on his hips as he smiled, “Now, first things first; Group Leaders.”

The young adults and older teenagers dressed in orange shirts stepped forward and away from the rest of the adults. Most of them looked excited. Some… yeah. They definitely didn’t want to be here. Mood.

“We’ll be splitting you all up into groups; these will be the kids you’ll be spending the rest of your time here with, so try and get along. Girls on this side, boys over here. Hop to it, everyone. Hop to.”

Groaning, Danny pushed himself up and trudged his way over to the growing group of boys. Tim and Damian joined him, standing close but not enough to be in his personal space. They both looked like they would rather be anywhere else than here, eyeing the group of boys with open disdain.

Snorting, Danny shoved his hands in his pockets and watched as the chaos grew louder. “Cabins 1, 7, and 11, over here!” Some blond guy shouted, his teeth sparkling white as he cheerfully waved for the boys to see. A large mob of kids quickly scampered over, excitedly chatting with one another.

“Cabins 4, 13, and 17, over here,” A green-haired man called out, grumpily waiting on the grass and in the warm sun. More of the boys trudged over, whining about not being in the shade.

“Cabins 2, 5, and 9, over here, please!” A short girl cheered, clapping her hands and gesturing for her group to join her at one of the tables.

“CABINS 8, 14, AND 16!” One of the older group leaders called out, standing like a military sergeant. The boys reluctantly made their way over, nervously muttering as the man somehow stood even straighter.

“Cabins 6, 10, and 15!” A purple-haired girl called out. She was out on the grass as well, but in a shaded area.

Finally, Danny’s group was called “Cabins 3, 12, and 18. Stay here, please.” Turning around, Danny spotted the boy who had called out. He was tall and had brown hair. He smiled at them, but not overly excitedly like the blond boy or the short girl.

They didn’t need to move, seeing as they were the only ones left standing there.

“Alright, boys, my name’s Andrew,” Andrew greeted, plopping down on one of the table benches and resting his arms on his knees. “This is your group. Look around, remember each other's faces. You’ll have time to get to know each other later, for right now, all you need to do is remember who you have to stick with. Got it? Good.”

Danny glanced around, noting that the boy who had spoken earlier was in his group, but other than him, no one else stood out. He half-heartedly notes their faces anyway.

“Split yourselves into groups of three; these will be the kids you stick with in all our group activities. You’re responsible for the other two in your team; it’s your job to keep them from breaking the rules. Try to keep each other out of trouble, hear me?”

Damian immediately turned to Danny, a scowl on his face, “I shall not accept anyone else in my group. I will not-”

Tim cut him off, “What he means to say,” he glared, then turned back to face Danny, “is that it would be rather inconvenient if we were stuck with someone annoying. We might as well stick together, seeing as we all share a cabin.”

“Right…” Danny slowly agreed, eyeing the two in confusion. What were they so worried about? Rabid Fangirls? He could honestly careless who he was grouped with, as long as they left him alone, he was game.

“Cool,” Andrew spoke up after a few minutes. “One group at a time, I need you to tell me your names and cabin number. Once I get everyone listed, I’ll head over and get it filed in our system. You guys can chill here while you wait.”

“What was it you said earlier?” Tim asked, standing next to Danny as they waited in line.

“Huh?” Danny asked, tilting his head for a moment before finally remembering, “Oh, right. Yeah. I was just trying to figure out the camp name. Pretty spot on, really.”

“Oh?” Tim asked, tilting his head, “How so?” Damian turned with a lifted brow, also seemingly curious in his answer.

“Mahkwa Ahtawaani. I believe the words mean Bear and Tree in the Miami-Illinois language. Mahkwa also sounds like the Ojibwe word Mahkwa, which means Black Bear. Though I could be wrong.”

“Right, and you just know that because?” One of the boys behind them asked, joining the conversation.

“I like learning about folklore and stuff, sometimes this leads me to researching Native languages so I can translate some of their stories,” Danny shrugged, stepping forward when another group of boys finally finished talking with Andrew.

“Names,” Andrew sighed, flipping to the next page and holding his pen as he waited.

“Danny Fenton, Damian Wayne, and Tim Wayne. All Cabin 18,” Danny listed, shrugging when Tim raised an eyebrow at him. “Right, Next!” Andrew called, still writing.

The three of them moved to the side, stopping when a new voice spoke up, “Wayne?” It was the boy from earlier, the one who interrupted Hector. He had shaggy dark brown hair with red dyed ends, green eyes, and freckles. He looked about eighteen years old and clearly came from a wealthy family, if the name-brand clothes he wore meant anything. “As in Wayne Enterprises?” he asked, voice light with surprise and what Danny was really hoping wasn’t anticipation.

“Yes,” Tim sighed, sending the boy a small, polite smile, before turning away in a clear sign of wanting to be left alone. The boy happily ignored it, “What could you two have possibly done to get Bruce Wayne to send you here, of all places?”

“Nothing of your concern,” Damian sniffed, crossing his arms and glaring at the older boy.

“Right, because one of the most paranoid men in the world sending two of his kids to a camp known for losing kids isn’t suspicious as fuck.” 

“He’s not paranoid,” Tim disagreed, latching a hand around one of Damian’s arms and pulling him back. “And as my brother said, it’s none of your business.”

“Sure,” the boy agreed, smiling cruelly at the two, “He isn’t paranoid, fine. Still doesn’t explain why he allowed you here.” he paused, before smiling even wider, “Oh, I know.” He leaned forward, “He probably got tired of your existence and doesn’t want to deal with all the drama from un-adopting you. He hopes you’ll go missing so he can sweep the fact he knew you under a rug and move on with his life.”

The boy leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest with a smirk, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Danny bit his lip, holding himself back from interfering. This wasn’t his problem. There was no reason he should get involved here. No camp drama, not when he’s supposed to be ditching the place and dealing with Vlad as soon as possible. Drama would only lead to more eyes on him.

A glance to the side was all it took to crumble his resolve; Tim was glaring, but the comments had clearly gotten to him, and Damian looked absolutely murderous.

“Not even close,” Danny rebuked, crossing his arms and pointedly eyeing the boy up and down in boredom. He made sure to frown just like Sam did when she saw something that disgusted her. If Rich Boy McGee wanted to pick a fight just because Tim was richer than him, both in wealth and family, then Danny ‘Fake it till you make it’ and ‘unwilling heir to Dalv Co’ and ‘Best friends with Sam Mother Hecking Manson’ Fenton would gladly square up. Sam was going to be so proud of him later.

Tim so owed him if he got punched for this. 

“While I’ve no doubt that that’s the reason you’re here, seeing as your clothes are an obvious ploy for the attention you so clearly don’t get at home, and your repulsive attitude a clear sign of just how unwanted you actually are. You could not have been more wrong. That's not even close to why they are here. No, they’re here because I invited them to join me and they agreed.”

Damian was studying him now, and Tim was watching him with narrowed eyes. Luckily, they both stayed silent as the boy reared back, scoffing, “And just who the hell do you think you are? Fenton, never heard of you before.”

“Good,” Danny sniffed, trying to fully embody everything he knew about Sam at her most petty and annoyed, “I would have been rather disappointed if someone as lowly and uneducated as you had been gossiping about me like some undignified lady at a gala. But if you must know, let me reintroduce myself.” 

Standing straight, shoulders back, and a smirk he only ever used for Vlad, Danny carelessly held out his hand, “Daniel Jackson Fenton-Masters, Heir of Dalv Co and Fenton Works. Pleasure to meet you.”

Danny ignored Tim’s surprised choke and Damian’s quickly hidden widening eyes, solely focused on the slow dawning horror on the older boy's face as he immediately spotted just what Danny had been wearing this whole time.

Danny has never been more thankful that he let Sam infect his closet and fashion sense than he has in this very moment. Because it didn’t matter whether the boy could recognize the expensive fabric that made up Danny’s deceptively plain t-shirt, or the fact that his jeans were tailored to fit him. No, sitting innocently on his pale, skinny wrist sat a very recognisable and extremely expensive custom watch.

A watch only those in the top 1%, no, the top 1% of the 1%, would ever dare even think of buying. A watch Danny had taken from Vlad’s room out of spite during one of his many unwanted stays in the man’s house, knowing it was stupidly expensive because of Sam’s reaction, and that he had carelessly been wearing for over two months now.

A custom Patek Philippe Grandmaster Chime.

A watch brand, even those less wealthy than the Mansons, would recognise in a heartbeat.

“Oh,” the boy wheezed.

Mother’s loyal followers trailed behind the three of them, their black suits blending into the darkness and making the path behind him look more omminoius then it actually was. He could hear them breathing behind him, and it was starting to get really annoying, but he couldn’t do anything about it because he wasn’t supposed to be able to hear them. Enhanced hearing sucked.

~

They traveled for a while, Danny estimated about thirteen minutes, before he finally spotted the specific symbol carved in the wall that designated they were close. Clicking his tongue to get her attention, he signaled Mother to pause. Gently prying his hand from Damian’s, Danny rushed forward and past Mother before she could stop him. He heard the soft curse Damian hissed and Mother's aborted step to follow.

Crouching down, Danny held up his hand to order them to wait. Once he was sure they would all stay still, he shuffled forward and wrapped his hands around one of the scattered boulders. Slowly lifting it just enough to peek under neither.

Green light immediately shone up and illuminated his face, and through the crack, Danny could see the large bubbling pool of lazarus water. Grandfather was standing at the edge of the pool, impassively watching as a body thrashed around in agony in front of him. Their screams filled the air, raising the hair on his arms.

Slowly, Danny set the boulder down and turned to face his Mother.

“Grandfather is letting someone use the pool; they didn’t meet its standards and should be completely dead in five minutes,” he carefully signed, glancing back at the boulder before continuing, “Grandfather usually waits for seven minutes after they’re completely taken by the waters, just to be sure they don’t come back. He usually gets lost in thought and stops paying attention very briefly around the five-minute mark. That’s when you should strike.” 

Mother’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. Damian, on the other hand, looked sick. Danny was half tempted to walk over and feel his forehead. Blinking the urge away, Danny gestured to his left, “This path will lead to an opening to the right of the pool, though it becomes quite obvious someone is coming through shortly before entering the cavern, seeing as the walls don’t cover the footpath down. I recommend only leaving that path once the fight has already started. This one,” Danny gestures behind him, “ leads to a spot where you can drop down right where Grandfather stands. You have to be very silent, because any sound you make gets amplified and echoes into the cavern.”

He remembered how many close calls it took just to learn all this; how he hadn’t died of a heartattack back then was beyond him.

Danny glanced up nervously before pointing to the path on his right, “This path leads to a darkened corner of the cavern where you can sneak up on Grandfather’s guards. They, uh, don’t know about the opening behind them. Grandfather does, though, and occasionally glances over. You’ll have to time it just right to not set them off early.”

“You’ve thought this through,” Mother signed, studying Danny curiously.

Rubbing his neck, Danny shuffled out of the way and against the wall, “You told us to think of any possible scenario and prepare for its possibility. I was only doing what I was taught.” That’s believable, right? He doubted she’d actually believe (or like) the real reason; obsessively learning Grandfather’s routine so he could spend as much time as he could wall climbing all over the cavern just to get a closer look at the markings in there.

Mother didn’t respond, instead she turned and started splitting her spies into groups. Damian crouched down next to him, still looking vaguely sick.

“Are you alright?” Danny couldn’t help but ask, his hands signing before he could even think it through.

“How do you know the exact times?” Damian asked, eyes focused on the boulder still lying next to Danny.

It took him a moment to figure out what his brother was asking, and he couldn’t help but wince once he did. Younger him had watched exactly four failed rituals. And in all of them, the unfortunate victim was dumped into the pool and determined unworthy. Their bodies would boil and burn and heal, just to do it all over again before their life force finally faded and their bodies got absorbed by the waters. Everyone took a different amount of time to fade, but it was pretty easy to figure out how long they had left based on just how burned and melted their skin got during the process.

“I may have watched this happen a few too many times,” Danny sheepishly admitted, not sure how else to answer without also admitting that his younger self had watched the rituals partially for learning Gradfather’s schedule and partially because he had been convinced he’d never be accepted by the waters. (an unfounded fear back then, but now completely reasonable) He wanted to know how that could go wrong for him, considering he knew Mother would try offering him (and Damian) if he were to die.

Which she did.

And to be fair, his assumption was correct. He hadn’t been accepted by the waters, but instead of flailing around and letting himself get absorbed, Danny had put one of his many theories to the ultimate test and had come out the other side alive because of it.

The lazarus water had to have come from somewhere after all.

He doubted anyone would like to know that there was an underground lazarus river that fed into the pool in the cavern. He also doubted anyone wanted to know that it was possible to survive falling down a 500 ft waterfall and into an even deeper underground cavern. (He’s pretty sure he only survived that because some ancient cosmic being wanted him too, but that’s not important.)

What’s important is the fact that, once you survive all of that, if you time it right, you can crawl out of the lazarus waters and be mostly healed, and the effects completely stop once the water isn’t touching you anymore. Thank you, conveniently placed groundwater pool.

Anyway.

Damian slowly stopped looking like he was going to be sick, and Mother finally turned to face them.

“Both of you, with me. Don’t engage unless necessary. Stay close.”

Nodding his head, Danny stood up and followed Mother down the path, his brother keeping right beside him. Only four of Mother’s spies followed behind them. The resting, splitting up, and traveling down the other two paths.

They quickly arrived at the opening, green light illuminating the small pocketed room. The screaming had stopped by now, meaning the person should be gone soon, if not already. Mother stayed back for a moment before quickly and silently making her way around the hole to stand on the other side. Her spies followed suit, surrounding the opening in preparation for what was to come.

Damian grabbed Danny’s hand, holding him back from moving closer. Tilting his head curiously, Danny let his brother pull him even further back into the shadows.

They stood in silence for three minutes before Mother tensed and then leaped down, pulling her weapon at the last possible moment. Grandfather only had enough time to take a single half step back before Mother’s blade sliced down his shoulder and across his chest, leaving a deep gouge behind. 

Mother landed silently, her Katana singing through the air with a sharp whistle. Instantly, the cavern was flooded with her spies, and the battle began.

“Talia,” Grandfather hissed, eyeing her curiously, his eyes dark with tempered anger.

Mother didn’t respond, just lunged forward with another attack. Grandfather twisted out of the way, pulling his katana out of its sheath. Their blades met in a loud screech, the sound of metal scraping against metal.

“I wonder, daughter mine, what could have possibly convinced you this was a good idea.”

Damian crouched low and poked his head over the edge, watching as the two danced around the cavern, expertly dodging stray attacks from those around them. Danny joined him, eyeing the ongoing battle curiously. Mother’s spies, having the upper hand, were quickly overpowering grandfather’s. More bodies littered the ground every few seconds.

Grandfather’s voice dragged Danny’s attention back to him, “It wasn’t anything I could have possibly done, no. You’ve been slowly pulling away; if it had been just that, this wouldn’t have happened so soon. No, it’s something else. Someone else.”

Mother feigned a left, managing to nick grandfather’s left wrist when he moved to block. She stayed silent, though she was now scowling at the man in obvious anger. Grandfather hid it well, but it was startlingly obvious to Danny that the man was flagging. His front was completely soaked in blood, though his body showed no sign of wavering. It was his eyes that gave him away; dark in anger, but sporadically darting around the room. 

He wasn’t fully focused on the fight; he was looking for exits, and he was watching as his subordinates dropped one by one.

He was cornered, and he knew it.

Mother lunged again, this time going low and slicing a line across Grandfather’s thigh. Grandfather snarled, forgoing his calm persona. He whirled around and threw a shuriken at Mother, managing to draw blood across her shoulder.

Mother retaliated with a slash across his forehead.

“Who could have possibly convinced you?” Grandfather taunted with a knowing voice, dodging back and slicing off one of Mother’s spy’s head. 

“Was it your Beloved?” he questioned ammusedly, narrowing his eyes.

“Bruce has nothing to do with this,” Mother hissed, tossing one of her hidden knives at him. Damian hummed under his breath, drawing Danny’s eyes from the fight. His brother was staring intently at Grandfather, angrier than Danny had ever seen him.

No, not angry. Furious.

His brother was furious.

What in the world was going on???

Also, Bruce? His Father’s name is Bruce??? He was not expecting that reveal, but whatever. Now is not the time to lament the fact that his father’s name was Bruce.

Grandfather twisted out of the way of another attack, a glint of mental catching Danny’s eyes. He tackled Damian out of the way, feeling the sharp metal embed itself into his side.

“Then, logic only leads to someone convincing you one of your… sons was in danger from me,” Grandfather growled.

“Danyal!” Damian shouted, pushing Danny back to get a look at him. His eyes widened at the blade in his side. Danny blinked at him, then down at his new wound. He couldn’t feel it, which wasn’t great, but like… he’s lived through worse, he’ll be fine. He’d just have to leave it there until he could get some medical supplies.

“I’m fine,” Danny replied, turning back to watch in time to see Mother’s face turn absolutely murderous.

“You are not fine,” Damian hissed, nudging Danny’s arm out of the way to get a better look, “you’ve been impaled!”

“Eh,” Danny rebucked, eyes wide as Mother went ballistic. Her katana whistled loudly, blurring at the speed of her attacks. Grandfather staggered, barely keeping up, gaining more and more cuts.

“Danyal,” Damian hissed, grabbing Danny’s shoulder and forcing him to look at him. “You have been stabbed. There is a knife in your side.”

“Yes,” Danny slowly agreed. Damian’s left eye twitched, “And the knife will be staying in my side, until this is over and I can get medical attention. So, I don’t know why you’re freaking out so much, brother.”

Damian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, “Right,” he breathed, “My apologies, Danyal. I’ve been,” Damian glanced down, his eyes narrowed as he watched Mother stab another knife into Grandfather’s ribs, “stressed.”

“Right…” Danny slowly agreed, turning to watch the fight again, but still keeping an eye on Damian as the boy pulled back.

With a ferocious yell, Mother used all her strength to shove Grandfather’s Katana out of the way and stab him through the chest. She was so forceful that Grandfather was briefly lifted off his feet.

“You will never harm them again,” Mother hissed, her eyes narrowed.

Grandfather coughed, blood covering his teeth as he snarled at her, “Again?” His knees gave out from under him, and Mother let him hit the ground to kneel before her. She sliced his hand with one of her shuriken, making him drop his weapon with a loud clatter.

“Who convinced you of this lie?” Grandfather demanded, eyes fully focused on Mother now.

“You did,” Mother revealed, pulling her katana back and grabbing a fistful of Grandfather’s hair. Grandfather stared up at her, his face morphing between confusion and hysterical humor.

“I did?” He laughed, “How could I have possibly done that, Daughter mine. They’re my heirs, aren't they?”

“Not anymore, they’re mine.” Mother denied, swiftly swinging her Katana through the air and across his shoulders.

Grandfather’s body stayed kneeling for a second before slowly tilting forward, hitting the floor with a dull thud. His head still gripped in her hands, staring up at Mother, his eyes slowly dulling and unfocused.

“Ra’s al Ghul is dead,” Mother declares, turning and lifting the head in the air, “you listen to me, and only me, from now on. I am the Demon Head.”

The few league members left standing, not already loyal, kneeled, their arms crossed in an X across their chest. News traveled fast, and in no time, the cave started to fill with league members, all bending the knee and declaring their new loyalty to Mother.

Mother stood tall before them, her silhouette lit up by green light, but instead of relishing her victory, Mother’s full attention zeroed in on Danny, and the knife still embedded in his side.

She did not look happy.

“Stop your moping, idjit.” Bobby huffed, dropping down in his worn-out puke green armchair. Danny’s head flopped to the side, allowing him to stare impassively at Bobby as the man grabbed one of his notebooks and an old-looking journal.

Speaking of books, Danny’s read his way through most of the ones in the living room. And just like he predicted, most of the information in the books was old news. Well, mostly old news. There were a few beings and creatures he’d never heard of before that he was definitely going to research later, seeing as the information on them was sparse and not that clear. 

He tried to dig through the kitchen’s books to see if they had anything interesting, but Bobby kicked him out and now refuses to let him back in. Said his brain needs a cool-down because there was no way Danny could have possibly learned anything at the rate he was going. 

The man, having apparently become immune to annoying teenagers, hasn’t budged on his stance in the last hour, so Danny’s been left to, as the man said, mope.

Mope.

The great Danny Phantom.

Moping.

This was torture. Hell, even. Danny was going to pass on permanently, and he’s going to be stuck haunting Bobby’s house for the rest of his miserable existence. A rather short existence, seeing as the man sitting across from him was a hunter who definitely knew how to exorcise ghosts, but still, it would be miserable.

“Alright, kid, what’s your deal?” Bobby huffed, tossing his books to the side. Paper fluttered, and a pencil rolled off the desk, but the man didn’t seem to care.

Pushing himself up, Danny twisted and stared at him, “I’m a teenager, Mr. Bobby. You have left me with nothing but my mind to entertain me, and I’m forbidden from moving off the couch.”

Bobby was silent for a moment, just staring blankly back at him.

Sighing, Danny rubbed his face before continuing, “Teen. Ager. Bobby. Teenager. Who’s used to doing whatever I want, whenever I want, so long as I don’t end up killing myself or another human being. I have gone from one extreme to the other. If I’m not allowed to do something in the next ten minutes, I will die.”

“Drama queens,” Bobby grumbled, before slapping his knees and standing up. “Fine, you’ve been driving yourself up the walls, and I’m not going to willingly let you drive me insane. So, here’s what we’ll do.”

The man walked into the kitchen, snagged a random flannel shirt off one of the chairs, and chucked it at Danny. “Put that on, I’ve got a few errands I need done, you’re coming with me.”

“YES!” Danny cheered, sliding off the couch in his excitement. He landed on his side, pulling on his injuries. Silently hissing, Danny quickly sat up and pretended nothing happened.

Bobby didn’t look impressed.

Ignoring him, Danny pulled on the flannel (which was nice and would definitely keep him warm in the slightly chilly weather) and scrambled his way to stand next to the man.

The man sighed, pinching his nose for a moment, before pointing next to the door. “Your shoes, let me know if you need help putting them on,” he continued muttering under his breath as Danny practically sprinted to the other side of the room, “God give me patience. He’s just like those idjits. How did I even survive the first time?”

Once Danny managed to get his shoes on (no, Bobby, Danny doesn’t need help putting them on. Just because he’s been stabbed more than once doesn’t mean he can’t bend down to tie his shoes… ok, so maybe Danny might need a little help, he’s pretty sure he almost saw his own soul pulling that stitch. Anyway!) The two of them wandered out the door and over to an old green car, apparently named Patina.

Bobby refused to explain why he chose that name, but whatever.

Once settled (and buckled since Bobby glared at him until he’d done so), the two set off down the road. They sat in silence for a while, just listening to the crunch of tires on gravel and then smooth asphalt.

“I’m taking it, you’ll be needing the essentials then?” Bobby huffed, glancing at the review mirror, then back at the road.

“Well,” Danny started, wondering if he should bring it up now or wait.

“Well?” He asked, narrowing his eyes and watching Danny more closely.

Well, no time like the present, it seems. Clockwork better have kept his word. “I’ve got a few bags stashed in an old building. I’m not sure where exactly, considering I only managed to memorise the street signs and not the, you know, town’s name.”

“The town’s, Kid, do you even know where you are?” Bobby asked incredulously, whipping his head to look at Danny, then back at the road a few times.

“Somewhere in South Dakota,” danny deadpaned, crossing his arms in annoyance.

“South Da-, Kid. How the hell do you not know where you're at?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Danny huffed, sliding down his chair, “I should have asked the guy who tried to kidnap me, that’s my bad. How could I have possibly not remembered to do that?”

“Fuckin’ dramatic,” Bobby trailed off, shaking his head. “Whatever, you're in Sioux Falls, kid. Ring any bells?”

“Nope,” Danny chirped, “if it helps, I know we were on this road for a good ten minutes, after we turned off a road on the right, which we had been traveling on for approximately thirty minutes, and that was after the man tried to confuse me by taking a ridiculous amount of turns around town for like twenty minutes. Soooo,” Danny tilted his head, “what abandoned old building is in that direction?”

Bobby squinted to the left, thinking for a moment. “Forty minutes? You’d probably be looking for downtown 8th or 7th. Lots of buildings over there. You said you remember the street names?”

“Yeah, uh,” Danny tilted his head, “An old building on Northern Pacific Ave, right in the middle. It’s between 8th st and Broadway, I think.”

“Yeah, sounds bout right,” Bobby huffed, “right then. We’ll go get your bags first, since it’ll be on the way to our first stop.”

~

They sat in silence for a while, Danny mostly focused on watching the passing scenery, and Bobby focused on the road and not killing them. It took a while, but soon the car started slowing down, and Danny was able to recognise a few buildings.

“Yeah, it’s around here,” Danny said, leaning forward to get a better look around.

Two blocks down, a familiar building stood tall, its boarded windows and rusted door a welcoming sight after two days.

“Right, you stay here, I’ll get your stuff,” Bobby huffed, putting the car in park.

“Aw, come on, Bobby!” Danny whined, “Why can’t I just run in and get it myself?”

Bobby turned to slowly look at him, with one of the most judgmental looks Danny had ever seen. “Do you really need me to explain this to you, kid?”

Danny let the silence stretch for a long moment before heaving a deep sigh, “Fine. My bags are up on the second floor, in the corner of some janitorial closet on the west side. The door’s rusted shut, but there’s a metal panel that can be shoved to the side.”

“Right,” Bobby grumbled, shoving his door open and stepping out. “Stay here. Lock the doors. If someone’s acting shifty, stab them.” And with that, Bobby tossed a knife on his empty seat and closed the door.

Rolling his eyes, Danny reached over and pressed the lock button, the mechanism clicking loudly.

“Just stab them, yeah, right,” Danny grumbled, slouching down and watching Bobby disappear into the dark building. “This is mine now, he’s not getting it back.” Snatching the knife, Danny shoved it through his body and into the liminal space that was his core. 

Infinite storage space; one of the perks of being dead.

Well, one of the only perks, really.

Sighing, Danny let his head slip to the side and rest against the glass, silently observing the quiet street around him. A few people were walking on the sidewalks, and only a car or two passed every few seconds, but other than that, the area was deserted.

Another minute or two passed before a loud whistle cut through the air. Flinching, Danny sat up and whipped his head around, looking for the source. It was coming from right next to him. Frowning, Danny fumbled with the latch before successfully opening the center console. Right there at the very top sat an old flip phone.

Glancing up, Danny waited to see if Bobby might show up.

No luck.

The phone whistled again, turning urgently as it buzzed.

Debating with himself, Danny slowly reached out and picked up the phone. The screen was cracked, but he could make out some of the name; Idj-- One.

Idj? Idj one? Who???

OH! Like Idjit! Bobby’s always calling one of his boys idjit, it’s probably one of them then. He should probably answer that. He doubted Bobby wanted to miss a call from one of them, and he should be back in a minute or two.

Flipping the phone open, Danny answered the call with the first thing to come to mind, “American Airlines, how may I help you?”

Dead silence.