#batpham

“Did she just write ‘yeti doctor’?”

Bruce’s head snaps up at Steph’s voice, looking once again at the letter on the screen. “Dear Mister Wayne,” it reads, and that is where normalcy ends. “Thank you so much for taking in Danny, I was so worried when he had to escape our parents.” Which is already an extremely worrying sentence. Made even more worrisome with the fact that there is no Danny currently residing in his manor.

His family is in chaos. Tim has three screens in front of him, ranting about living firewalls to Barbara, while Dick leans over his shoulder.

Alfred has lifted a thick three-ring binder out of the care package that this Jasmine Nightingale has sent them, and is flipping through it. Apparently this binder contains all of the medical, psychological, and cultural information needed to make sure that Danny’s species can thrive. Because the missing teen that should be in his manor is not human, but some sort of human/ghost hybrid.

“Father, I think this warrants an emergency meeting with the Justice League.” His youngest says. “There is currently a government agency hunting Cujo and Daniel, citing laws that directly counter the Meta Human Protection Acts. This cannot stand.” Cujo, the green glowing, 10 foot ghostdog that delivered the package and letter this morning by density shifting into the dining room during breakfast. Damian was of course attached.

“Uh, Alfred?” Duke starts form where he and Jason have been emptying the care package, “there’s a huge first aid kit here, but most of it is glowing.” Jason, of course, is turning the high tech laser pistols over in his hands, getting a feel for the handling and grip.

Bruce let’s his eyes skim over the letter again, his eyes catching on words like “Ghost King”, “Infinite Realms”, and “vivisection”. “I know it takes Danny a while to open up,” the letter reads, “so I’m beyond grateful that he feels safe enough with you.” Except he doesn’t, because Danny is not here. Somewhere out on the streets of Gotham is a half dead teenager, hurt and alone. And Bruce didn’t know. Didn’t know any of it until his sister sent him a care package, because apparently this kid has lied to his sister that he’s safe, that he found somewhere to stay.

He doesn’t notice the sudden hush behind him until Jason breaks it. “Is that fucking Lazarus Water?!” Bruce lowers his head back into his hands.

“I will prepare a room for the young master.” Alfred sniffs as his footsteps go towards the elevator. “I’m finding this kid.” Jason answers, leaving towards the lockers “Wait, Little Wing! I’m coming with!” Well, at least Dick can hopefully keep Jason in line. He prays to Rao this doesn’t mean he has to deal with a half-ghost, immensely powerful teen that struggles with Pit Rage.

AKA "After Alfred dies, the Batfam need a new chef. Somehow, they find Danny (who totally didn't lie on his resume and absolutely knows how to cook!). Danny just wants Mr. Pennyworth's ghost to stop harassing him." DPxDC prompt idea!

This was inspired by the bajillion other ghost!Alfred prompts, but I literally couldn't get it out of my head. Specifically, how bad Danny would be as a chef. But I also want Danny to somehow heal the Wayne's grief a little?

Damian is the first one to notice how the Manor's kitchen looks different. While Bruce, Tim, and Damian still live in the Manor, Bruce and Tim refuse to enter the kitchen. Bruce even (politely) refuses to eat the food Mr. Fenton cooks. (Damian hadn't known Alfred Pennyworth for very long but he had respected him all the same. Even so, he refuses to let his loss prevent him from walking around his own home.) So, of course, Damian notices.

It starts subtly. Mr. Fenton, their new chef, left several recipe books on the kitchen counter. It's not unusual for a chef to do so but it's jarring since Mr. Pennyworth always made sure to keep the kitchen spotless. Next, are chrysanthemum flowers in a vase. Notes pinned to the fridge with colorful magnets. Star-themed tea towels hanging off the oven door. A small hydroponic garden plugged in on the counter top. Mr. Fenton starts to listen to music - an odd mixture between country and classical, sometimes listening to a podcast about NASA or World War II. It's not obnoxiously loud but it can be heard over the bubbling of soup, Mr. Fenton chopping veggies, and occasional humming.

It's like the entire kitchen transforms with new life. Sounds, colors, movement, the scent of fresh herbs and tomato sauce. Damian stays hidden in the hallway as he silently observes.

Until he sees the cookbook flip several pages and a bottle of pepper flakes floats above the sauce pan, shaking until they flutter out. Mr. Fenton heaves an exasperated sigh and groans, "Al! I was going to add them! Ancients, if you wanted to cook, you should'a just done it."

It's several more minutes of a one-sided conversation before Damian decides either he's hallucinating (not likely given Mr. Fenton would also need to be hallucinating) or Mr. Pennyworth is... a ghost. Haunting the Manor. And somehow Mr. Fenton can see him, can communicate with him. It wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen - Damian has seen the dead revived, had the displeasure of speaking with John Constantine, and he himself has been in Hell. A ghost would be underwhelming. But the ghost of Alfred Pennyworth?

Good thing Damian is the son of the world's greatest detective. He will figure this out.

(Cue Damian recruiting Thomas, Cain, and Brown - those least familiar with Pennyworth and therefore less likely to be swayed by the ghosts of the past - to investigate Fenton's clearly meta status.)

     “What, come to gloat at the fallen king, again?”  The tired yet mocking voice echoed down the hall unnaturally - and Dick frowned.

     They had no idea what this building had been used for.  Just one day it came onto their - Batman’s - radar with a concerning number of unlicensed and unofficial military personnel… and now it was empty, hastily packed up and abandoned by the day they’d intended to check it out.  They’d not gotten a clue of what this place was for, outside of automatic systems firing on Red Hood of all people.  Not even giving the rest of them a single thought.  In fact, Batman stepping in the path stopped the automatic machines.

     “What’s the matter?  Normally you’re laughing it up - lemme guess, did Boxy give you the slip again?  Maybe Ember caught you in her songs yet again.  The lot of you are simply incompetent, I swear.”  There was something about the way the voice said the word incompetent that tickled at Dick’s brain, but he couldn’t place it at the moment.

     He tapped his comm before moving down the hall, easily finding the only occupied cell.

     The being looked awful.  Their clothing appeared to be some sort of modified royal regalia - which, Dick realized, lent some credibility to the idea the other was a king - but had been torn and ripped to shreds.  They had wounds that were sluggishly weeping a toxic green and their eyes were hazy, as if they weren’t able to see what was in front of them.  If comparing them to a human would create an accurate assessment, they looked sickly and malnourished.  He’d be surprised if someone told him the other had more than one meal a week for several months.  “Awfully silent there, Agent A,” the being smirked in Dick’s general direction - he jolted slightly, realizing the being literally couldn’t see - and Dick grimaced at the codename.  “No big, evil plans to destroy my Realms?  No demands for me to help you capture my subjects?  Not coming in here to make sure I don’t get any bright ideas about escaping?  What’s the plan of the day, hm?”

     “I’m not Agent A,” Dick didn’t know how to start this conversation, really, but that seemed like a safe starting point.

     The being tried sitting up, movements limited as more glowing green trickled out of them, before grimacing and going back to their slumped position.  The frown the king sent towards Dick was equal parts a misdirected glare and confusion.  “No, you’re not,” the being agreed, “who are you then?  Still haven’t gotten my eyesight back from your latest inane tests, fuck you very much, but I don’t recognize that voice.”  Dick’s eyebrows raised and he heard Jason snort over the otherwise silent comms.

     “Ah, I’m not part of… whatever this place was.  I’m Nightwing,” Dick started, prepared to explain further that the Justice League was investigating this and a few other facilities like it that had come to their attention, when the king snorted.

     “Sure, and I’m the Riddler.”  The being stated drily.  “The Justice League don’t give a damn about my people or the GIW, try again.”

     Dick paused, tilting his head slightly - that tone of voice… “Why do you say that?”

     The king sent as incredulous a look as they could towards Dick before they seemed almost… resigned.  “Right, we’re gonna go this route, huh?  A reminder that no one is going to save me or whatever?  Fine, sure, might as well.”  The being huffed a sigh, the sound worrisome if Dick were being totally honest.  If the being were human, he’d be either getting them immediate medical attention and their lungs checked out or setting about trying to make their last moments as comfortable as possible.  “Hm, let’s see, our first few calls to the JL were written off as prank calls, then I presume we called too many times - so our calls then got rerouted to you imbeciles.”  Dick knows who this being was reminding him of, he knows he does, it was just on the tip of his tongue.  “Tuck sent out some distress calls himself directly to a few superheroes, including Batman since you’re masquerading yourself as one of his associates.”  Bruce grunted over the comm, which Dick interpreted as I never got those calls.  “Then, as I’m sure you’re well aware of as Agent A gloats about it all the time, you employed one of the Justice League to help capture me.  You wouldn’t have been successful in the least if you didn’t have their tech and influence.  Though, the fact that you got my adoptive parents to get the drop on me helped immensely.”

     There was no sound as Dick and his family processed that explanation.

     The king spoke up again, seemingly unaware that they’d thrown them all for a loop, “so, did I pass?  Or are we going back to the table?”  Their tone was impatient, obviously wanting to dismiss whoever they thought Dick was, but with a tired wariness that came from knowing whoever it was would not leave and that they’d likely inflict pain upon the being.

     “If you believe the Justice League aren’t going to help,” Dick tried wording it as carefully as he could, “then why won’t your people?”

     “I’ve already told you all this,” the king growled, eyes flickering with a glow of power.  The display made Dick wary - if the being could summon power while in this pitiful state, then how powerful were they actually?  “I made a royal decree, telling them to avoid you lot specifically.  Maybe get your head out of your asses and communicate a little better.”

     “I found the power and security,” Tim said over the comm, breaking up the silence that’d permeated the device as they listened in on the conversation happening.  A couple seconds later, the faint buzz Dick could hear faded and the door to the cell unlocked.  “You’re safe to extract them now; medical has been set up in front of the building.”

     Dick hurried to open the door, “we’re gonna need a lot more than a few bandages, Red.”

     “I can see that,” Tim stated drily, likely cataloging what he could see of the being’s wounds.

     “Alright, your majesty, I’m going to be moving you to a safe place to try to take care of your wounds,” Dick approached the being that was vaguely following his movements, wary of the previous power display, “so uh, please don’t attack me?”

     The king frowned, had been since the moment Dick referred to them as your majesty, but didn’t protest being carefully lifted into Dick’s arms despite their confusion outside of a grimace of pain.

     By all rights, the being looked as if they should be screaming.

     It was a bit of a walk from the cell to the entrance, even with Dick hurrying as much as he dared, so he continued asking questions - easier ones this time.  “So, what’s your name?”

     The being snorted - then winced at whatever pain that had brought up, “you really have no clue what’s going on here, huh.  King Phantom, High King of the Infinite Realms, Protector of Balance, yadda yadda, a bunch of titles that mean jack shit at the moment since I am, all in all, a glorified test subject.”

     “And uh, how old are you?”

     King Phantom didn’t respond for a moment, before weakly asking their own question.  “What is the date?”  When Dick responded, the King seemed to deflate even more.  “I’m 16, then.”

     Dick hesitated, “and… how old were you when you were captured?”

     “It was a week before my 15th birthday.”  More than a year.  More than a year, this kid the same age as Dick’s baby brother had been in captivity, being treated as a test subject - worse than, considering their wounds weren’t even treated and they were left to die in their cell if Dick hadn’t checked that floor.

     Dick could hear crashing and cursing on the other end of his comm, certain Jason was trashing whatever he could in a rage, before the sound was abruptly cut off as Tim filtered the loud noises out of the connection.

     “I’m sorry,” Dick said sincerely - and the king just stared at him, despite the lack of vision.

Dante remembers what it felt like to rip B's spine out and hang his corpse from Gotham's skyscrapers and hasn't decided whether or not he feels guilty about it.

Ellie has an inherent distrust of all male authority figures after Vlad's nonsense.

Danny has both of the above plus complicated feelings about the JL, batman's role as a human-centric hero, and all the other kids B already has.

Dick : Oh my god it's finally happening my little brother needs help!

Jason : Dick listen-

Dick : Alright so you know how to bury a body and make it disappear. You're good at cooking and stuff so no household help. You definetly don't need a pickup after drinking...... So what kind of emotional mess are We in?

Jason : First of all, rude!

Dick : You'd hang up on me after said "I need", I am nothing but polite here!

Jason : Well you're not wrong.

Dick : See?!? So, emotional mess?

Jason : Yeah OK listen, I did a Bruce.

Dick : You did a what now?

Jason : A Bruce. There's a kid sleeping on my couch and -

Dick: Oh my god. Are they an orphan?

Jason : Yes? No? I don't know.

Dick : Black hair, blue eyes?

Jason :..... Yes

Dick:..... Well,.... Are you gonna let them fight crime after they discovered your secret identity and/or force their way into your nightlife by being a sidekick you never asked for but can't get rid off any more?

Jason : OK Listen, he came like that!

Unique or well-executed tropes, all platonic edition! Just because I feel like it. (This post is updated as stories update/go inactive)

COMPLETED

City Pigeons Bleed Green by PaperPuffin

Danny is Bruce Wayne's clone. He's discovered by the Bats, who promptly adopt him. Lots of angst and trauma, skittish Danny, very sweet. 20/20 chapters

Ghosts, Legacies, and CPS by Ace_of_Roses & Karnia_Queen

Vlad calls CPS on Danny. To avoid being placed into Vlad's custody, he goes to a distant biological relative for help - Tim Drake. This one is literally so good. Lots of identity shenanigans. 6/6 chapters

Grave Promises by Blueseabird2

Dick Grayson was trapped in the Ghost Zone years ago and taught newly-Phantom Danny how to be a vigilante. After a reveal gone wrong, Danny seeks out Dick "years" later for help. 11/11 chapters

sacrificial bat by hollowgast1

Shameless self promo! Nowhere near the level as these others, but hopefully you still like it. Danny is summoned by a cult and forced to overshadow Tim. Angst and identity shenanigans. 8/8

Like Facing Off Against C'Thulu, but it's Really Just your Fears by nerdpoe

Emotionally devasating. Dick is vivisected by the Fentons and Danny rescues him. The Bats rescue Danny in turn. One of my all-time favorites that you must read. 4/4 chapters

TWINcognito Mode by nerdpoe

Another one of my absolutely favorites. Nerdpoe, you get me. Danny is Tim Drake's clone, and they decide to be twins (and mess with the rest of the family in the process). 6/6 chapters

The Bat Trap by Threee

The Parent Trap, but with the demon twins who don't know they're twins. This one is such a journey. 33/33 chapters

the man is holding a sword

damian is on his knees, richard and todd on either side of him, plucked from their lives and their homes by a pathetic attempt at resurgence by League castoffs and stragglers, and thats enough to make damian want to scream

the league is his, even when it is nothing. even scattered to the wind and blown to bits, all that the league ever was and ever will be belongs to the al ghul

belongs to him

but that sword... that sword does not belong to him

that sword belongs in the hands of a boy more radiant than damian could ever be- bright and brilliant, crystalline and cunning, with skin two shades paler than damian's and eyes a bright, beaming blue

that sword belongs in the grave

that sword belongs to damian's brother

the words 'how dare you' are not strong enough. so when damian says it, he doesnt stop. he calls the leader of their captors- not the league, never the league- the shame of his family, the shame of his mother

he slings words with bitter meanings. says his mother would spit on him and call the dogs to piss on him if she knew what he had done

and he means it. he means it

he wants to carve out this traitor's heart for daring to defile his brothers grave, and he knows they do not kill, but he thinks this deserves an exception

this is more than a crime

this is a declaration of war

never has damian been so tempted to pick up the lethality of his weapons again, to sink back into the ideals he was raised to

shouldnt he? doesnt this sin demand retribution?

but who will give it to him? who else will take it but his own two hands

the absolute fury the thought causes, the resentment, leads damian to understand todd better than he ever has. if this is how he feels about the Joker, damian thinks its a miracle he can stand to be in the same room as their family at all

the leader of this egocentric farce laughs at him. taunts him. damian screams at him from a place pulled so deep in his chest it makes his throat hoarse, pulls at his lungs and his stomach

he can feel his indignance throbbing in his toes

at the other end of the hall, something explodes

black bat slips in through a hidden doorway, batman following close behind

the moment damian is freed, he launches himself at the leader, at the coward who hides himself behind a mask of gold and claims power he does not know how to wield

who dishonours his twin's sword

he throws himself into this fight with desperation, with the fury of a thousand suns. he feels more than himself now, feels almost as if his brother is beside him again, flowing like water as damian rages like fire

he knows he is not

(he wishes he was)

he is so so angry

he is so angry the sword he reclaims comes down on the arm that pulled it from where it belonged and severs it from its body, the move born as much from his own desire for vengeance as from muscle memory

he is pulled away by the bat as the man screams his pain for the world to hear

the assassins have been dealt with. they escape

drake pilots the aircraft, freeing father to speak sternly to damian about his excessive use of force, but his lecture falls on deaf ears

damian is curled over the blade like it is the body of his brother, is wiping the blood away with his shirt and whispering to it, crooning words of apology and atonement

he wonders if his brother will accept

its only when richard kneels in front of him that he realizes he has begun hyperventilating

richard, as ever, is gentlest with him. he is the first to ask what is wrong

he cannot help himself. tears streak down his face and his fears pour from his mouth because this sword is his brother's. his twin's. his most beloved person, the other half of damian's soul. his light and his joy and his hope and everything damian thought he took with him forever when he left. when he died.

(some of those things, damian got back. his family is patient, after all. stalwart, and as kind to him as they are capable of being.

there is still a part of damian that lies cool in the grave next to his brother)

what if he is unsettled now? that piece of filth unearthed his twin's grave, stole the only thing they had left to memorialize him- damian's bright, beautiful brother, crooked smile and excited jabber and all- tore it from where it belonged and what if it has disturbed his rest?

what if his spirit is untethered now

what if he becomes vengeful, becomes hungry, becomes attached to this plane, dragged back from wherever he might have been at peace because his final rites have been uprooted and cast aside

damian cries and he spews out all the fears in his chest because they are too big and he feels so so small

'baba,' he sobs into Dick's chest, firm arms wrapped around him as hes rocked slowly back and forth, like the baby of the family that damian always insists he is not, but right now very much feels like he is. 'baba what if he is hurt? what if he is lost?"

its too much. just the thought pulls a wail from damians throat, his feet kicking like a toddler in the throes of a tantrum

and he cries

damian drew blood with his brothers sword, and there are not enough apologies in the world

if his brother does become a wandering ghost, it will be as much his fault as the traitor's

he cries until he is sick

how dare the traitor? how dare damian?

...how dare they

~

OMAKE:

Tim: okay can i just be the first to say: what? no seriously what the fuck. damian has a brother?

Cass: had

Tim:

Tim: Had. had a brother

Tim: Fuck. fuck. *goes to his room to call Conner cause fuck*

Jason: *already whaling on a punching bag in the corner*

Steph: *working an overseas mission with babs, hasnt even heard about the whole Sword drama yet*

Duke: *asleep because hes the fucking day shift*

Bruce: *still in the batjet, gripping the controls and trying to talk himself down from a minor psychotic break*

Damian: *sobbing his brains out and also puking and also trying to clean his brother's sword and also trying to remember how to make sur so he can start burning offerings to hopefully appease his brother's spirit ASAP*

Dick: *helping damian get the right stuff to clean the sword because he is literally crying so hard he cant stand. staving off the breakdown to end all breakdowns*