i will cry if you make fun of me

The point was that Danny was trying to see his current situation positively. Like, really trying. After a nasty run-in with the Guys In White and one of their latest toys, Danny decided an impromptu vacation was in order and skedaddled off to the absolute ectoplasmic black hole that was Gotham City. Looking like a four-year-old was a bit of an issue, but Danny used his new size to his advantage. The only real wrench in his plans was the need for a decent ectoplasm source. It was becoming an issue, and he hadn’t gone ghost for weeks. A silent hunger was gnawing at his belly, and Danny didn’t know when he’d snap. 

“When I heard this place was a black hole, for some reason, I didn’t expect it to be so literal,” Danny muttered, clambering over a pile of wooden crates to reach his current safe house. Did it count as a safehouse if it was neither safe nor a house? Really, it was just a tiny hole in the ground, lined with stolen blankets and a few trinkets he’d picked up. Located at the intersection of Crime Alley and Burnley, under an abandoned Italian restaurant, was Danny’s Den. That’s what the local kids called it, anyway. And wasn’t that something, having his own den? It felt special, somehow.

I am sorry, little prince. Gotham, the ancient spirit of the city, sounded genuinely apologetic. The shadows at the edge of Danny’s vision tensed and fluttered, in tune with the foreign emotions he was picking up. 

Danny sighed. It's not your fault, Gotham. Moving a final plank out of the way, he used his tiny body to wriggle through a hole in the restaurant’s wall. It was an incredibly tight fit, even for him, but a little intangibility went a long way. Only a small animal would be able to get through there normally. The inside of the restaurant was just as one might expect. Nasty. Broken furniture was scattered everywhere, and grime caked every square inch of the place. The dust was so thick Danny could draw on the counters with his finger. Only one table still had all its legs, so Danny had taken it upon himself to clean the darn thing off and made it his little dining table, complete with a nice wooden chair stacked with bricks so he could actually reach his food. Flying might be easier, but without a reliable source of ectoplasm, he was trying to conserve as much as possible. 

The kitchen wasn’t much better. In fact, it looked even worse. The smell of rotten food was so overwhelming that Danny blocked off the area and stopped breathing altogether. He couldn’t cook, anyways. Just in case, he made a little firepit next to his table to warm something up. It’d only been used once so far. The large windows were broken and boarded up, half the ceiling was caved in, and it was a miracle the bathroom was working at all. As for his living space, Danny spent most of his time under the restaurant floorboards, sleeping or tinkering to his heart’s content. A group of loose floorboards was under one of the windows, tucked out of the way. The boards neatly bent out of the way on worn hinges to reveal a dark hole in the ground, and this is where Danny slipped into, silent as a ghost. The spot looked like it could have been a drop point for someone, but that someone was long gone by the time Danny found it. 

Blinking, Danny let his eyes glow and readjust to the pitch darkness. Thanks to his ghostly efforts, the little drop point led directly into a small tunnel, which opened into a wide crawlspace under the restaurant. Danny didn’t know if the crawlspace was supposed to be there, but he was certainly taking advantage of it. He shimmied forward a few more feet to get out into the open and patted around for a switch. A few moments later, he clicked on a long string of fairy lights, illuminating the entire area. The whole place was made of hardened dirt and bits of cement, held up by some decent supports. Old blankets and rugs covered most of the ground so he wouldn’t hurt his knees on bits of gravel. Pushed off to the side, a thick plank held up by cement blocks made a nice little workbench for him. Tiny pieces of machinery and poorly scribbled notes covered most of the bench and spread onto the floor. To top it all off, an old tube tv had been embedded into the wall with thick cords running through the ground, attaching it to the nearest internet satellite. A game controller was plugged into it in lieu of a remote. 

All in all, it was a pretty good place to live if Danny was being honest.

And, of course, his peace didn’t last.

Children. Gotham’s voice warned him two seconds before heavy thumping could be heard from far upstairs. Danny cursed, tossed his backpack of stolen goods onto the workbench, and scrambled up the way he’d come. He’d barely shuffled the floorboards into place and jumped away when a couple of kids hopped through the hole in the ceiling. 

I really need to get that fixed. Danny thought irritably. This was becoming a bad habit for people. 

“Hey, Danny!” One of the kids, a cheerful seven-year-old girl named Pins, waved enthusiastically at him, ignoring his scowl. 

“Hello, Danny.” Pins’ twin, a boy named Needles, glumly followed his sister’s lead, always one step behind her. 

“Hey, guys.” Danny wrinkled his nose. “Y’all stink. Why are ya here?”

The third kid, a ten-year-old boy who went by Aster, coughed slightly before answering. “Oh, you know. Word’s gotten around that the Maronis might be instigatin’ a firefight in Burnley tonight. Wonderin’ if we could lay low here.” 

Danny sighed once more in as many minutes. While he’d only been in Gotham a few months, he’d gotten to know a few neighborhoods quite well. Pins, Needles, and Aster were Burnley kids. It showed in everything they did. Even if their territory was being nuked, they wouldn’t survive too well in Crime Alley, the closest area to their usual location. If they tried to brave the streets of a territory that was not theirs, no helping hands would be extended to them. No one would look for them. No one would care about them. 

Which is probably why they latched onto Danny so quickly. His place was outside the borders of both Crime Alley and Burnley. Neither territory wanted this stretch of abandoned buildings, all shoved together back when people lived on the street. A proper dead zone, as he liked to joke. Danny had made it clear when he claimed the road that anyone could stop by for anything, regardless of where they hailed from. These three took advantage of that open invitation more frequently than others did. But what was he supposed to do? These were Gotham’s kids. Danny was (technically) a hero and (mentally) much older than them. He would never turn them away. 

“Go back out and spread the word that my place is open,” Danny instructed, disappearing behind the counter where he stored extra supplies. “I’ll set up the beds. Be back before sundown, or I’ll go out and drag you back myself.” 

“Yes, boss!” The kids chirped, clambering out the way they’d come. 

“AND USE THE FRONT DOOR NEXT TIME!” He hollered after them. Giggles were their only parting word. 

---

Well, looks like the rumor was right. Danny mused. He was hunched next to a gargoyle, several stories in the air as he watched columns of smoke rise up from blocks away. The sun had gone down a good hour before, but the rising glow from the fires was driving more and more people from Burnley his way. He’d had to expand to the next building, an old insurance company with cat-piss carpets. Sometimes, Danny was glad he could stop smelling things. 

Dede, a working girl who went by Dahlia, waved from the street below to get Danny’s attention. He didn’t hesitate to scale his way down, barely using his powers to swing from one perch to another. “Yo, monkey!” She greeted. Danny definitely didn’t pout at the name. “We’ve got the mats laid out, and someone pulled out a huge-ass soup pot. You mind if Charger gets dinner started?”

Danny shook his head. Despite his young physical age, people treated him like his own person and spoke to him normally, which he was grateful for. “Tell Charger I’ve been saving some red beans behind one of the counters, and he can use those. I’m gonna make a loop around the block quickly, so can you and Aster hold down the fort?”

“You got it, monkey.” Dede gave him a quick noogie. “I’ll save you a bowl if I can.” 

“Thank you!” Danny called over his shoulder, already jogging away. It took a while with his little four-year-old legs, but eventually, he slipped into Burnley territory, sticking to the shadows as people uneasily wandered around. The fires were spreading now, and Danny had a sinking feeling in his gut he’d have to do something about it. 

Gotham. Danny focused on his thin connection to the spirit of the city. Is there anyone that needs to be moved right now?

A pause, and then, Yes. 

Where are they?

Go left. 

And so he turned left. For the next three hours, guided by Gotham’s unending shadows, Danny hunted down the remaining homeless population in the danger zone. (The housed populace could leave on their own, he reasoned. They had the means and places to fall back on.) It wasn’t easy, and sometimes downright disgusting, but he managed to worm his way into every nook and cranny they were hiding in, snippily giving them instructions to his safehouse, where others would be waiting. A couple of people resisted, but a quick mental nudge from Gotham sent them scurrying away. After that, he darted seamlessly through the alleyways, taking direction from the city itself as he got closer to the source of the conflict. Danny had to stomp out tiny fires more than once, even using his ice to snuff out one that had gotten too big to handle by normal means. 

It was getting exhausting, but Danny pushed on. He couldn’t rest until everyone was safe. 

All of a sudden, an unprompted sigh pulled Danny to a stop. A cool mist tickled the back of his throat, making him cough and heave in the first breath of real air he’d had in days. The ash in the air coated his throat, making him cough again. There was a ghost nearby. 

Quickly, Danny flickered invisible and zipped upwards to the rooftops. He scanned the smokey sky, looking for that tell-tale glow of green. When he found it, Danny almost did a double take. 

Red Hood was on a rooftop, two buildings over, with his helmet off. He was stalking back and forth, angrily shouting to open air with wild gestures. Hopefully, he was on a call and not just going crazy. The domino mask that covered half his face couldn’t hide his eyes' burning green, but Danny crept closer. He wouldn’t be noticed, right? A single alleyway was separating them, so Danny hunkered down to listen. 

“-NO, DICK! THE MARONIS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR PROBLEM NOW, NOT MINE!” Red Hood growled, kicking the side of the building’s air vent. “DAMMIT, WHY ARE THEY EVEN HERE?! EVERYONE THEY COULD EVER WANT TO GET REVENGE ON IS DEAD, I’M SURE OF IT!”

A murmuring was barely heard over Red Hood’s heavy breathing, but obviously, he was listening to someone else speak. Danny just stared at the man, perplexed by how his eyes flickered. 

“Listen.” Red Hood ground out, stopping his pacing. “The Falcones gave up this area. Penguin doesn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. Fish Mooney is out of the picture, and the Court lacks the resources to stage a raid like this. I want you to find out why these fuckers are here and who I should kill to ensure this doesn’t happen again.” The man snapped. He turned away from Danny’s location, calming down to talk about fire evacuations. 

Danny, as if in a trance, licked his lips. The crime lord smelled delicious. Not in a creepy, romantic way. No, he literally smelled so appetizing it was making Danny’s mouth water. The never-ending hunger he’d been steadily ignoring for weeks now reared its ugly head, suddenly ten times stronger than before. His stomach rumbled, startling him so bad he lost his invisibility. Red Hood didn’t notice. Why did he smell so good? It was like all of Danny’s favorite non-sentient foods wrapped up together into one scent. Pancakes, steak, fries, that one pasta dish Mrs. Foley made for him. And the guy was just standing there, practically begging to be eaten! 

The shadows tugged at his limbs as Danny left his hiding spot slowly, eyes trained on his newfound prey. His eyes were glowing, some part of his brain thought. His ears were tapered and long now, too. They flicked out to the side, twitching at every noise. Danny could feel his teeth sharpen into points, and he hunched slightly as he took a predatory crouch. Just a little bit, c’mon Hood, just turn to the left-

There!

Danny launched himself into the air silently, eyes glowing as he rammed straight into the crime lord. He latched onto the man’s jacket with razor-sharp claws and immediately started gnawing on his shoulder, careful not to break through the leather. Red Hood shouted in surprise and tumbled under the sudden weight, but Danny never loosened his grip. Instead, he just readjusted his tiny body so Hood would take the brunt of the fall. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Red Hood cursed, trying to pry Danny off. Danny snarled, eyes flashing.

“Hood, report! What’s the matter?” Some frantic voice could be heard through what Danny now saw as an earpiece. 

“THERE’S A FUCKING-GET OFF ME!” The man rolled to his side, making Danny scramble to his back so he wouldn’t get squished. “THERE’S A FUCKING KID ON ME. PIT DEMON? I DUNNO, BUT HE’S TRYNA EAT ME! SHIT!  WHY WON’T YOU LET GO?!” 

Well, that’s just rude. I’m certainly not a demon. A single coherent thought floated through Danny’s head before it was overrun with hunger. His gnawing resumed as he let the man spin and awkwardly try to reach the kid firmly latched onto his back. He wasn’t eating the man, not really. Danny was ripping chunks out of that goopy goodness latched onto the guy’s core. Honestly, Red Hood was selfish not to share! He would’ve been attacked sooner or later. (Sooner if this wasn’t Gotham.) And oh, was the goop delectable. It was easy to tear into, just like jelly, filling Danny’s stomach like nothing else had before. He needed to find out where Red Hood had gotten this goop so he could stuff a whole thermos full of it. It hit the spot perfectly. 

His meal was interrupted when another vigilante joined them on the roof, summoned by Red Hood’s blasted earpiece. He hissed, eyes glowing and ears flared back, drawing his prey closer and away from the new guy. It was Nightwing, he thinks. But like hell, Danny was sharing his meal. He’d fight Pariah Dark all over again just for a bowl of this stuff. 

Nightwing raised his hands in a placating manner. “Whoa, kid…” He trailed off, getting a better look at Danny. “Uh, if you are a kid. I’m friendly; I just need you to let go of Hood. We kinda like him in one piece, yeah?”

“I’m not sharing.” Danny hissed again. Red Hood failed to break his grip, so now he was just standing stock still. Apprehension flickered through his core, so Danny sent a wave of calm toward it. It wouldn’t do for his prey to panic and run off before he was done. 

Nightwing cocked his head. Danny could tell he was trying really hard to stay calm. “Sharing?”

“The goop. I’m not sharing. Find your own.”

“Goop?” Red Hood croaked out. He sounded distressed. Danny let a rumble ripple through his core as he perched on the guy’s shoulders like a cat. 

“It was mean of you to keep it to yourself.” He scolded Hood, the hiss fading from his voice as he began gnawing again. “Now I’m hungry, so I’m taking some.” 

Nightwing was silent for a moment, examining the scene. “Hood?” He asked. “Is the kid actually biting you?”

“I-” Hood paused. “I don’t know?” 

The rooftop fell silent as the kid finished his ‘meal.’ Questions flowed in from both vigilantes’ earpieces, but no one dared speak. Instead, they just watched the freaky demon kid seemingly chew on Hood’s jacket before pulling back and burping, looking satisfied. 

Danny didn’t pay them any mind. He just bit into a massive piece of goop, slurping it up with a hum. He smiled after a moment and finally released his strong grip. “That was tasty.” Burping, Danny pats the crime lord’s shoulders once, climbing him like a ladder until he can stand on his own. “I have to go back now, have fun beating the bad macaroni guys up. I’ll see you later, Meals on Heels.” Then, before he could feel the flickers of shame building in his cheeks, Danny flounced off into the night, deciding to let the real heroes handle the fires from now on. His job was done, and he’d even had time for takeout. 

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, gazed after the little kid with a bewildered and dazed look. “What the fuck….” He muttered, rubbing his chest where the kid had first attacked him. His eyes widened under the mask as he felt something amiss. 

“Dick.”

“Hey, you know how B feels about-”

“Dick.” 

His stupid older brother flinched at the growing panic in his voice. “What?”

“The kid ate the pit.”

“...Come again?”

—

You deserve this. Gotham’s unamused voice jolted through Danny’s head, causing him to almost miss his next swing. 

“Fucking hell!” Danny growled. “I said I was sorry!”

You ate my knight.

“ONLY A LITTLE BIT!”

You ate my knight.

“Oh my-” He gave up on the conversation, focusing instead on the gunfire directed at him. He knew it’d been too long and that the GIW would eventually catch up. Danny was loathed to lose this new home, and even if the city's spirit was mad at him now, he knew he would be hard-pressed to find another as accommodating and kind as Gotham was. 

Using a homemade grappling hook allowed him to easily swing through the city, and the lack of a strong ghost signature was throwing the agents’ sensors off. Still, Danny was having a hard time getting the guys off his trail. Was it that goop he ate the other day? It was unlike any ectoplasm he’d ever seen; maybe it showed up on their radars better. If so, Danny wanted to go back in time and slap himself from a week ago. But at least he wasn’t hungry now!

A green laser grazed his ear, snapping the grapple line he’d worked so hard to make. Danny yelped and plummeted from about a hundred feet up in the air, barely catching himself last minute. The GIW van was hot on his heels, and Danny was forced to take off via flight this time, trying to keep a hold of his invisibility so his face wouldn’t show up on the news. Expletives were heard from behind, but he didn’t look back. His entire body was shaking. Everything was too loud and too violent. Everything sounded sharp to his brain. More green lasers whizzed past his head, and he barely dodged them. He just kept flying, desperately trying not to get hit while simultaneously leading the agents away from populated areas. Tears welled in his eyes. Why were they here? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why did they keep hurting him? Was tearing him away from his family not enough? Why-

SLAM! 

Danny thanked the stars that he was already dead because the way he flew straight into someone solid broke something in his neck. Both he and the person went tumbling head over heels onto a rooftop, gravel, and glass biting into his skin, drawing green blood. Strong arms encircled him, tucking his head close until they stopped rolling. Danny sucked in a shaky breath. Why was he breathing again? His neck cracked back into place, making the person flinch. They separated as Danny scrambled back, sniffing and trying to desperately wipe the tears from his eyes. 

“We really need to stop meeting like this.” A familiar voice made Danny freeze. He looked up slowly, eyes wide in horror. He’d rammed straight into Red Hood. And now that he was no longer starving and driven by some weird ghost hunger, Danny was mortified. But the guy didn’t seem angry. Instead, he seemed lighter, somehow. Cheerful. Even with his helmet on this time, Danny could hear the smile in his voice as he reached forward and dusted Danny off. “So, little pit eater,” he said casually, gripping Danny’s elbows lightly so he wouldn’t run away. “What can I help you with today? Are you back for another meal? Or,” he nodded to the GIW tearing down the street in their direction. “Are we beating up some creepy government agents?”

---

[Please believe me when I say I tried to give him the best gremlin hidey-hole. I had a whole scene planned out where they tried to pspspsps him from his little den, but I couldn't write it.]