#transference fic

It had been one extended weekend away to finalize some last-minute things with her apartment. One weekend to lay the groundwork for what was the first real step towards their independence from their parents. When her phone vibrated in her pocket, Ancients, she almost dismissed it. Jazz thought Danny must be checking in, but when she freed her phone from her jeans the screen flashed Sam’s contact photo and her heart dropped to the floor while her hairline broke out in sweat. Something had gone very wrong in her absence. Sure, they talked occasionally but the teen never just called out of the blue. Jazz had opened a new tab on her laptop, dismissing the article she had been reading and had begun searching for an earlier flight home as she picked up the call. Getting any of the teens in their little group on a phone call was like pulling teeth, a delicate procedure and potentially painful without the correct preparation so to hear from them with no prompting? The world may as well be ending, or more accurately based on how things have gone, Amity Park was in danger from something they couldn’t manage on their own at the very least. 

Jazz had a lot of practice projecting calm into the space around her and she leans hard into that practice now. Every word Sam gets out makes her grip her phone tighter and tighter. Everything blurs together. She’s moving through the world on autopilot. Reality blurs. Taxi, airport, security, gate. It all flies by hardly registering. She’s sitting on the plane staring out the window when she jolts back into herself, and Jazz is suddenly grateful, she still had a third of her things left behind in her old bedroom. She had been in such a rush she had only bothered to grab her purse. She dug her head back into the lackluster headrest and closed her eyes to try and gain some rest. It’s not like she could miraculously do something to tackle the situation from where she was in the air and -she wasn’t ready, for any of it, she wanted to scream it was all too soon, please. They were all just kids- She clenched her eyes shut and gently knocked her head on the plane wall. She had a distinct feeling she would need to maintain her energy levels the best she could over a long period of time, nothing that involved Danny was ever easy or simple, and she would need to be ready to strike when the opportunity presented itself. She leaned against the window, closed her eyes, and let out a long sigh. Jazz couldn’t get home soon enough. 

A half hour later Jazz has to hold in a groan of frustration. She can’t quiet her mind enough to gain any worthwhile rest. She’s just getting more worked up. Sam’s voice had sounded so terrified while recounting the event. They hadn’t heard from Danny since late Friday night, so they went over to the house Sunday morning, and called her shortly after they had to leave. The door had opened as easily for them as normal since the Fenton's never locked it, but the lights had been off. While odd, it hadn’t set off warning bells right away- the Fenton's are eccentric, both of them have known about their parents' weirdness since they first followed Danny home. It had only strengthened the bonds between the three. Danny’s friends were exceptionally loyal and stubborn which was usually a frustrating combination when turned on her, but Jazz has decided this time she’ll give them a pass since they had listened to their guts and had been determined to soldier on to find their wayward Phantom. When they had tried Danny’s room, and the door wouldn’t open, they knew something was definitely wrong. When they took a moment to pause as they tried to figure out their next move they realized they could feel it in the air. 

Ghosts did that. Danny had mentioned it once. Their stronger emotions exude into the air like supernatural diffusers. Usually, it was so subtle you would hardly notice unless you were actively looking for it. Because she did know it helped her keep tabs on how her brother was really doing. Instead of smelling tangerine or eucalyptus you’d get goosebumps on your arms, your hair will stand on end, and you’ll feel an overwhelming wave of an emotion but when you catch your breath to look, you won’t find anything around you that warrants what you’re suddenly feeling. Amity Park-their house- it all was Danny’s haunt. Danny had been screaming for help in the only way he knew how. His friends… they had found him, but they were kids. Jack and Maddie had seen them frozen for a moment in horror at the bottom of the stairs and quickly caught the two teens, who started kicking, screaming, biting, only to be thrown out the door, for it to be slammed in their faces and the house was shut tight behind them with the lockdown protocol whirring into effect. 

By the time Jazz had got off the plane and made it home to bypass the biometric lock it was too late. She doesn’t blame Danny’s friends for failing to free him. She can’t. Maddie is a ninth-degree black belt and Jack is built like a brickhouse, tall and imposing, with a grip to match. And so, Danny, her baby brother, was gone from the lab when she returned by nightfall. Spirited away just out of her reach. She failed to remain calm. Her voice rising in volume and pitch with her distress. The Fenton's were tightlipped about anything that had to do with the boy that had been tied up in their basement. They were disappointed with her that she didn’t celebrate with them. A small victory against the ghost that took their boy from under their noses, they said. That the thing was no longer what once was Danny. They would honor him by defeating the monster that killed him. 

(Jazz felt her words choke her, wiggling desperate to be free but even she isn’t that cruel. So, she stared at them, mentally screaming as her body slumped in resignation. They were the monsters that killed him. It was their obsession with proving their theory was right, that is what led to the portal being built. Led to Danny’s death.)

No, she doesn’t understand how they justified turning on a child, biologically part of their family or not, ghost or not, Danny is a child. Everything about him was good. Their betrayal zaps through her, cold and sharp. It steals her breath and moves her reality three steps backwards. She feels the love and fondness that she held onto desperately for them vanish in an instant. She stares blankly at the people who gave her life and can’t understand how they became this way. Why won’t they listen? How could they ever put their work over a living, breathing child that is in front of them? Their child. They had always seemed.. Benign, as they shouted silly things and their shots missed Phantom by what felt like miles, but that is a mistake she’ll beat herself up for later. If she struggles to acknowledge Danny’s death that is one thing, to refuse to acknowledge his continued life? That was truly unthinkable. 

That was then. When she first returned home. Now with little to nothing to direct their search Jazz was spiraling. She can’t help it; her mind keeps looping over and over. Her brain was trying to fill the unknown with possibilities of what could be happening to her brother. The silence was wearing her down, dragging her back into her own personal hell. It wasn’t complete silence, of course not- no, the air conditioning still hummed as it blew cool air throughout the house. She could hear their neighbor to the right mowing his lawn, the wind’s summer flirting with the trees and their leaves muffled the music he was playing while he pushed the old mover across the grass. The happiness was casual, innocent, yet it sliced her down to her bones. Her world has stopped.

Inside the house there is a miasma of quiet that leaves her choking and breathless. There are no feet rushing up and down the stairs, no muffled cursing or gentle ribbing after school while Danny and his friends played Doom. There was none of the warm teenage laughter she’d grown fond of. No. It hasn’t been this quiet since they first brought Danny home. It’s been years since she first met him, and she has stubbornly hung on ever since. A too small child with black hair and blue eyes that looked at her with eyes too jaded for what age the nice older woman at the orphanage had estimated him at. He didn’t have to tell them anything for Jazz to know. His eyes spoke to her in the absence of his voice. This boy who had become utterly alone before he even was old enough for school was haunted by what he’d experienced before he appeared at the orphanage. She had decided that day that this little boy would always have her by his side.

With help from his social worker and a lot of time and effort, they had eventually managed to get Danny settling into an outgoing child and once he was out of his shell, he had made the decision to follow her around religiously, she’d turn away from the fridge and almost run him right over. He kept it up until he had made friends with Sam and Tucker, at one point his hovering had frustrated her to tears, now she aches for days past when her baby brother was at least within touching distance. Danny was hers.  It had been Jazz who had tediously built a connection with Danny despite his… spiky personality, but her parents- their parents had grown to love him as if he was their own. She knew they did. 

Jazz had been so excited when her parents had tentatively agreed to foster and later adopt Danny, she’d finally have someone for herself. Someone to joke with, to play with and she could show him her books! Mom and Dad had each other, often their attention would stretch, reaching for so many new ideas that they forgot to do things like schedule their doctor’s appointments or pick them up from school. Jazz can’t count how many times she would stand outside the middle school waiting for the GAV to appear, the third time they forgot she decided not to wait for the teacher to call their parents and snuck away while she was distracted with Dash. She had an easy enough time finding the elementary school. She had made her eyes real wide and blinked up at Danny’s teacher Mrs. Donner, explaining to the woman that her parents had decided she’s old enough to walk home and was sent to pick up her brother with a large toothy grin. Mrs. Donner had looked at her innocent face and big eyes and fell for it hook, line, and sinker. She simply praised Jazz for being so responsible and they were off, headed towards home. With their little legs it took most of the afternoon and because it was late October the sun was kissing the horizon when they arrived. Relief filled her at the sight of their door. She did it!  From that day on Jazz never waited for their parents again. If she did, what would happen to Danny? She knew her little brother was mature for his age. Jazz hasn’t once seen him afraid, though leaving him behind at school might be the thing that finally does it. Jazz refuses to make Danny feel forgotten like she has. 

She had a lot to learn so she spent the next two months reading parenting books in the library. As he grew his needs followed. Jazz had to make sure he was getting new clothes as he outgrew the old ones, they came from the only thrift store in town, but they were clean and fit him well. She had saved up her allowance money for his tenth birthday to give him the video game he needed so he could play online with Tucker. It was the one thing that seemed to fascinate Danny so far and she was going to reward Danny for going out of way to make plans with the other boy. Fentonworks was good for a few solid years. It felt as normal as their family could get. 

Then her parents finished their portal. Unsuccessful as they had been turning it on. It mystified her that her brother managed to get it up and running in moments. Of course, she didn’t find out what really happened that afternoon until after Danny knew she knew he was Phantom. He had fallen out of the opening shrouded in sickly green light that further washed out his skin to make him look like something from the grave. In the tranquility of the night Danny told her in a hushed voice it took him seconds to realize that’s exactly what he was. Something that shouldn’t exist but did. He would tell her how his breath came in fog, how he steeled himself to look up and discover the portal was swirling and functional and eventually he had risen from that floor as something new. How he knew because he had died before. By that time, it was too late, he had forced himself to become a vigilante in response to the swarming citizens of the Infinite Realms and nothing she said could change his mind. Danny was already an object in motion before she had discovered what had really happened.

Every action has a reaction. Every choice you make funnels you down an unknown path that at its core is out of your control. An obscure college degree could lead to the discovery of a new world parallel to your own, taking an innocent picture could kill you again before you reach adulthood, or with a simple sentence said in anger one could make it so the closest of friends never crossed paths. With time you can gain experience by observing your surroundings and learning the pattern of which choices have which consequences and then plan accordingly. You can learn to influence the outcomes. It’s supposed to be soothing to have a plan. Jazz will admit it’s a lot different in practice than drawing up theoretical plans on paper. She was never very good at putting elaborate plans into action much to her dismay. Too many moving pieces to keep track of. Good thing this plan only had two phases, search and rescue. Tucker and Technus were scouring the web for hints of where they moved Danny to, until they found his trail she had to wait.

This time alone has forced her to stare his reality in the face and it was jarring to realize how their lives as siblings were polar opposites. Time and her experience had made her complacent, but of course she wasn’t the one getting chased around town by their parents while having to dodge ectoblasts. Jazz didn’t carry the fear of watching your parents gazing at her with no recognition-only fear and hate- while they tried to shoot her out of the sky, she never felt her fear so intense it would make her tremble as she had to remember to sneak around to her window carefully or trigger the traps and face the very real consequences she would pay the cost in her blood. No, that was Danny.

As soon as they could find Danny, remove him from where he’s trapped they would. She would take him away and actually provide some protection. Even if all the protection from his pursuers was a change in location. Or at least Jazz would give him enough breathing room and a burner phone to use while he goes to escape, and she throws herself at whoever shows up to hunt him to slow their pace. Jazz has no illusions that she would win even with all her training with Jack. She didn’t need to win, just to stall. She would do whatever she could so Danny knew without a doubt she would never stop loving him. Give everything and then some to keep him safe. Death could come for her, and it wouldn’t stop her. No, the Realms were interlinked with Danny’s very being and it would never leave their King with no family, in death or life. 

If she could she’d wrap him up in her embrace and beg him to forgive her-no, Jazz cut that thought off. She doesn’t deserve his forgiveness. She would never let the question leave her head. If she asked, he would give it. Just as easy as breathing. She’s not sure where he finds the strength and grace to brush off serious offenses the way he does. (He must be trapped or hurt right now since he hasn’t come home or sent a message, a new group with the same hat, right?... if he- if he left her behind- if he saw no difference between her and their parents- it would kill her, and she’d pray to Clockwork not to form a core so she could rest when she dies instead of confronting her worst fear made real.)

Jazz couldn’t help but fall further into her memories, trying to hold onto the comforting image of her little ghostling. Memories that are poor substitutes but all she currently has. Her brother always had made the effort to stay under the radar much to her dismay. Danny was wicked smart. If he decided to hunker down and hide, they’d have little luck finding him. Tucker always says to her that hacking is about knowing how your opponent thinks, yet she never knows what Danny is thinking unless he wants her to. Daniel was an..odd child. A ghost in personality before the accident that killed him. A little boy who could get into any space in their house with little effort. Twisting his body to slip into gaps that should be too small to fit him. He blended into shadows with ease, often scaring her shoes off her feet, appearing besides her with no warning. Silent steps for a silent kid. It had amused their parents more than worried them, not a flicker of concern that she had spent hours crying out his name-alone- only for it to bounce uselessly off the walls and had worked herself into a panic looking around for their new addition. She quickly realized their parents didn’t see anything wrong with a small child disappearing from their supervision for half a day and that was the first time Jazz had considered, maybe she shouldn’t have tried as hard to wear them down as she did to convince her parents Daniel would do well with them. It had been a selfish desire of a small girl desperate to make a connection. It took her a longer time to realize he wasn’t just keeping himself withdrawn, no Danny was observing them, watching with sharp eyes and learning how to fit in by mimicking her behaviors. She doubts he had any illusions about their guardians, he was too perceptive, and proved it by easily escaping her gaze- even when she was trying really, really hard to keep track of where he was. Jazz never fully got over her terror of losing him in the mass of stuff her parents had accumulated over the years.

Those first few years they played an intense fucked up game of seek, please, Danny. Don’t hide. He never seemed to understand that people don’t just vanish out of a space, a frown distorting his face at the sight of her the one time he tried to teach her the trick to it. Afterwards she expected it to be easier to track his movements, Jazz would do her best to keep him in sight but even with her higher-than-average attention span the second she was distracted Danny would be gone. She had scolded him once that if he kept popping out of the shadows, he would become the proof of ghosts that their parents were looking for. (Just thinking about that joke all these years later made her nauseous. Her brother’s pout- what had been his actual reaction- pops into her mind.) Danny was never the most popular, he had toed the boundary of society by choice and necessity. He preferred when eyes slid over his presence. 

(He admitted to her one night that all he wanted was to be normal, he was content in mediocrity. He had confided that he never wanted to push himself to be special again. He had spat it out with a nasty curl to his lips like the very word was dirty. 

Jazz didn’t have the heart to tell him that no matter what, Danny was extraordinary.) 

The Fenton’s reputation around town seemed to please him as it didn’t win them any friends. Sure, now that ghosts attacked the townsfolk bought their families weapons but too many people have suffered some sort of property damage because of their parents over the years and the GAV for a real shift in perception to take place. As it is, most of the townsfolk ignore them with a stony silence or simply give a pointed comment about checking the news report for when the GAV would be on the road. If Danny was the one sitting in the cramped seats of her last-minute flight musing about his existence, he’d insist he could leave without notice. Not a trace left behind of him to be missed. Would even bet money on it. He had gotten sneakier after becoming Phantom yet, Danny was very wrong. He didn’t take into account that even if he’s not going out of his way to interact with others, they still notice him. 

Valerie, Mr. Lancer- Ancients, even Dash has cornered her. She saw the worry and fear underneath their forced casual demeanors. As normally as she could, she told anyone who hovered too long that Danny had caught a nasty case of whooping cough and would be out for a while. She just couldn’t make herself say something, anything, the truth.  It wasn’t a safe decision and she had to be skeptical of everyone. They couldn’t risk anything endangering Danny even more. Team Phantom was made up of three teenagers and a half-human half-ghost vigilante that’s missing. Despite their intelligence, they were just that, teenagers. Teenagers who only had each other. They weren’t an organization with a million bodies to throw at a problem, there was no one waiting in the back to replace them if they fell or were taken. So, they had to be deliberate with how they approached this. She’d like to believe the few who’ve asked her about Danny wouldn’t share the information, but the team agreed not to risk it. By the twist in Dash’s brow and the tightening Mr. Lancer’s smile, they didn’t truly believe her tightlipped story but were unwilling to push. For now. It made her anxious and then when she thinks about the chance people will finally see what the Fenton's are, how alone their two children have always been inside the house that could kill them if they took one wrong step. It makes her heart ache fiercely. Maybe they’d help her. It’s a bittersweet fantasy she pushes away so she does not dwell in it. One way or another they were going to find their missing family.

Those very first few days holed away in her room confusion, anger and denial raged through her body. She hadn’t even registered the familiar noises of their parents banging away in the lab, but it’s been two months, and it was all she could hear from her room. Boom, Boom, ta, ta, ta. Over and over, nonstop. Jazz has taken to shoving her earbuds into her ears and blasting her favorite playlist, but she still could feel the vibrations coming up through the floor. The Fenton's when they see her as they pass by each other in the halls act outwardly like nothing has changed. Chattering away and throwing around ideas on how to catch the Phantom for good. It was like her world wasn’t expected to be decimated the moment Danny had been taken. The swinging between emotional poles of acting like the last ten years never happened, time rewritten as though they never took in that shy, bright boy who looked so afraid when people moved too quickly towards him, on the other end they could be heard from anywhere in the house dramatically wailing about the injustice on the stairs to the lab. They then rant like Danny is dead- fully dead and was stolen from them by this powerful, unnatural thing. Manic determination oozed from their rapid-fire conversations, they were determined to recapture Phantom and force him to allow Danny’s body and soul to rest. 

She was lucky to be home when her parents received the call. Jack had cheerfully ripped the house phone out of her hand as soon as she picked it up and took it to the kitchen where it gave him the illusion of privacy. Jazz thought it was both very fitting and extremely concerning that someone had stolen Danny away from a GIW base. Jazz is fiercely glad but worried that if someone snatched her baby brother away from the people that were hurting him, how strong did that make them. They had to be powerful or have the manpower to take on a shady government agency. It made the chances of finding Danny that much slimmer. She had to find him to figure out if he was actually safe. Finding him is shaping up to be a challenge.

She could feel she was reaching her limit. Her brother is missing. Danny, her little shit of a brother was missing, and she was stuck in this house with his would-be murderers. The people who gave her life do mean well, but she can never forgive them for what they’ve taken from her. And there’s no trace of where he went! They had Technius and Ember haunt the base… computers were wiped clean, the same with the security feeds and any equipment left behind was unusable. Not even a hair was left behind, white or black to indicate Danny had been there, just a shell of a building blown into rubble. Tucker and Technius are trying to sort through the Fenton’s communication with the GIW, if they hear something or find him, they’ll let her know.

She hears them at night. Her-their-the Doctors Fenton, she means. She hears them in the kitchen from her room at night. Jack, a sniffling blubbering mess. Jazz could barely make out his words as he wailed, and Maddie who was calm, quiet, and serene. Both grieving a boy that was alive. Alive only because someone stole him from them. It made her sick to hear, sick and angry. How can they grieve a boy they sent off to his full death? How can they curse the fact Phantom isn’t available anymore for experiments? They had blamed ghosts for freeing Phantom, of course, but when Sam ran into Johnny 13 and Kitty, no one had heard anything. Jazz, Tucker and Sam know if a ghost had Danny, it was being kept really quiet and that meant it was most likely Vlad. 

The thing that horrifies her the most is they don’t ask ‘how or why or when’ he died. They don’t hear her when she explains it was their portal and absence that caused this, little else. 

(She’s never wanted to blame or resent her parents for Danny’s death, it’s not like they forced him inside…but there’s this kernel hurt and betrayal that has exploded inside her since his disappearance. It swims around her chest overshadowing the childish anger that echoes in the background. How can they wash away their responsibility? What about her? They’ve left her here to deal with this on her own, it hurts, she’s hurting, why won’t her parents help her? How is it that when they discovered Danny’s death, they both became dead to their parents. They pass by her room when they bother to drag themselves out of the lab to bed but not once have they asked her how she is doing or offered any comfort. It grates and stings, she tells herself she really should be used to it by now. She hates that it feels like a surprise at how low they truly will go. 

Jazz reminds herself to be glad even as she’s immensely worried at the same time that someone took her baby brother away from the people that saw him as less than human. She had to find him to figure out if actually safe and not with someone or an organization that is worse. Finding him is shaping up to be a challenge. This is nothing like waiting for him to come home from his late-night stargazing, fully abusing the fact he could sneak out perfectly silent, invisible and be able to fly to find the perfect spot to see the constellations. In his absence she felt more like a ghost haunting the halls than Danny had been. When she lays down at night she strains to hear any hint from him, bumbling around as normal. She thought she heard something, a week into his disappearance, but when she had scrambled from her bed, her pillows and blankets flung to the floor in her haste- maybe he’s back, he escaped and came for her- but when she pressed her ear against their shared wall the noises had stopped. She’d take even a small creak at this point. She had laid there crumpled against the wall for hours, face blank and her gaze was distant. Why was she expecting Danny to miraculously find her? She’s the older sibling, Danny isn’t meant to take care of her or keep track of where she was-it shouldn’t matter he’s a half-dead teen with powers and that he feels like he’s responsible for her safety- Jazz is the eldest, she had been the one to convince her parents to give her a sibling. 

Danny is hers, her miracle, hers to hold. 

She was so stupid for leaving him alone with them. It had been less than a week in Boston, to get her lease signed and tour the campus so she knew where her classes were going to be just a few months later. Guilt continuously tried to steal her breath. She had to remind herself that falling into her self-loathing was only going to get in the way of her finding where her brother was. If he’s still alive-half alive- whatever the technicality is, it has never mattered much to her as long as he didn’t stay dead. Jazz turned back to her laptop, refreshing the server Tucker had made for them to securely communicate on, hoping to see some activity from her brother. Some sort of answer. She could look at how the complexities of what makes a halfa and what that means for Danny (and her) and how it made her feel later. To try and pass the time she tried to finish packing up her childhood bedroom. She had to keep busy, so she felt like she was actually making progress.

‘The world never stops turning Jazz, it laughs in the face of personal tragedy… I just have to keep moving forward.’ It’s what Danny would say to her when he got that look on his face. The one that said, I have taken what the world has thrown at me and the scars it left in its wake, I have survived what it has stolen from my hands, I have endured, one moment at a time until I have made something for myself on the scorched ground.

Jazz turned towards her desk and almost fell down, tripping over clothes she had been sorting through for donation. Where was the box ghost when you needed him? She was drowning in moving boxes that she needed to finish packing away to be shipped cross country, when her brother wasn't missing-Or fully dead. With everything going on, it’s no surprise that she’s still behind getting the last of her things from her old room. The most damning thing about the situation was Jazz had plenty of time to think about everything and she wasn’t surprised. She’s not shocked by her parent’s willful blindness, their casual violence. Their hate. Realizing in the aftermath she had always known how her parents would react only made her feel worse about insisting that eventually Danny should come clean. Had she been trying to convince Danny that they’d love him regardless, or herself? This is all her fault. Hindsight really is a bitter pill to swallow.

That first day home Jazz had gone up to Danny’s room to try and find some sort of scrap, a clue, something. She knew Sam and Tucker wouldn’t lie about not being able to get the door to open but she had to at least try. She had to try, or hopelessness would paralyze her when acknowledged she couldn’t help her brother at all. (All Jasmine Fenton had amounted to when her little brother currently needed her, was sitting in the house desperately waiting for Danny to signal he’s safe.) She tried everything she could, his door wasn’t even scratched. It was sealed shut. Her… roommates were either downstairs in the lab working on something or out of the house, often distracted and muttering to themselves so she had plenty of time to try and bust into Danny’s room. No matter how hard she rammed into the door or how many times she blasted it with whatever inventions she had been steadily stockpiling she couldn’t get in. How the Fenton's had made his door ax proof, she’s unsure. There doesn’t seem to be any sort of visible shield protecting it.

Tonight, will be different, she will find something. Her anxiety has reached a peak, so she bites the bullet, and she decides that if his door doesn’t open for her, she’d try Danny’s window. Glancing at the floor she pictured her parents milling about the lab like ants. She would have to be careful not to alert the Fenton's that she’s on the move. She couldn’t be sure if they rigged Danny’s room with alarms. If they did set sensors and if she is lucky, it’ll only trigger when an ectoplasmic signature tries to breach his room. Jazz may be slightly liminal, but she’s never had one of their inventions target her before. It’s a risk she’ll have to take. She turns away from her desk, hesitates, then turns back around to lock her door, just in case, before moving to the window. The glass slides quietly up in its frame and she peeks outside to make sure she’s in the clear, and when she doesn’t hear or see anything for a few minutes Jazz climbs out her window onto the sill to eye the old tree that was between her and Danny’s room. She’d made the jump before but only a handful of times in the dark. She thought of her little brother hurt and with strangers or worse, with Vlad. 

Firming her resolve she jumps, and for a moment she’s weightless, only she didn’t push off hard enough and she’s falling too soon. Jazz has to bite her cheek so she doesn’t scream as she stretches out farther in desperation. Her fingers scramble to grip the bark to gain some traction on the sturdy branch, determination surging when her fingers hit wood. Jazz feels the tree tear into her palms, she uses that pain to fuel herself, her face stuck in a grimace. She had to succeed. She grunts softly using her legs to swing for enough momentum to leverage herself up to safety. The fall to the ground isn’t far enough to kill her but it would’ve hurt. Panting she half crawled half slid her body close to the trunk. Her hands were bloody and stinging but she was almost there. Carefully Jazz shifted around the trunk and reached for Danny’s windowsill. She was smearing blood on the wood, and she could taste it on her tongue, but what she saw through the glass made her feel a few drops of her blood were hardly significant. 

Danny’s room was tossed, furniture destroyed, clothes everywhere. Burn blasts littered the floor and walls, but there was no blood she could see from her spot- ghost ectoplasm nor human. With the sheer damage it was hard to tell if the destruction was because of the hunt to capture Phantom or if it was done in the aftermath because of their frustration of having missed his transformation when it happened under their roof. Jazz refocused and pushed the window, it slid up silently, and she thanked her paranoid baby brother for the consistent maintenance he did on it. She crawled through, leaving it open in case she needed to get out quickly. Jazz froze when the carpet squished under her shoes. Shakily she pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight. Her phone drops from her nerveless fingers. Blood, so much blood. Must’ve been before they caught Danny then. Maybe this is where he was cornered. Swallowing thickly, she looks away from the splatters of ectoplasm, splatters of Danny’s blood. Jazz tried to be quick and quiet as she scoured through the wreckage. She worked until the sky just started to lighten to no avail. 

Exhausted, Jazz took in the destruction around her as she slumped to her knees besides Danny’s bed. Jazz had loved her parents. More than anything- family was oh so precious to her. She has always strived to meet their expectations. She had been resistant to training to hunt ghosts, but after fighting off those ghosts with Dad… she had begrudgingly changed her mind. It’s just- practicing with their Dad was fun. For once her Dad’s gaze and attention were firmly on her. Jazz was learning something because she wanted to, not because it was her best shot of getting established as an adult as soon as possible so she could bring Danny with her. She figured her knowing some self-defense could only benefit them both. For the most part, fighting and souping ghosts was Danny’s thing, Jazz had no desire to duke it out with her little brother’s rogues. Yet, she found herself working out on her own. The quick steps of a fight felt like a dance, one only she could hear the music to. It called to her. Danny had given her an unrecognizable look the first time he caught her. Jazz had shrunk under his intense gaze, feeling as if he was seeing something no one else even began to know to look for. It was unsettling as much as it soothed some unknown part of her. Being truly seen will do that to you. 

She wouldn’t say she’s handled her baby brother being a halfa gracefully at all. His absence truly shed some light on her mistakes. She knows Danny… died, was still half dead. It’s just- it was so easy to overlook. Nothing about him really changed all that much. Sure, his heartbeat was off, and he was chilled to the touch and he started wearing clothes that hid his scar or drew so much attention no one seemed to notice the scars. Jazz is certain he’s noticed her… aversion to acknowledging him being half-dead and that makes the guilt dig into her stomach all the more. She- her mind snaps back to focus on her surroundings. 

She hears her window slide open and her head twists to look. For a heartbeat she hopes it’s Danny. It wouldn't be. More likely it's his friends. Sam and Tucker are the only ones who’ve come crawling through windows lately, they’d usually shoot a quick message but- Jazz blinks. That's not anyone she knows, not personally at least. Just through the news and pictures. A shadow joins them causing her to jerk. Her eyes take in the brightly colored costume that juxtaposes against his companion's black get up. Jazz’s fingers search under the bed for something useful. They bump into a familiar shape, her hands grip around her creep stick that was hidden just under Danny’s bed with a breath of relief. Her heartbeat had gone from sluggish to pounding in her ears. Jazz takes another deep breath and uses her free hand against the bed to rise and face them, raising her chin stubbornly and schooling her expression the best she can as she raises her arms pointing her weapon directly at them. She doubts she could’ve fooled them.

How many special security measures did it have? Since this was Batman’s plane probably more than Danny could think of. How many secrets did it guard? This plane probably had access to some very dangerous information, so one would assume it was a target. The plane was vulnerable being left unattended wherever they were. With the vigilante’s away on their mission their rogues could play. Danny knew firsthand with his own rogues. Was the plane on the same network as the Batcave? It had to be right? At least the comms? Was it in case they had to share updates on confidential files between locations? Danny’s fingers itch to get his hands on the controls, examine the programming, maybe find a systems list. 

He can’t see the plane that well yet, but he can feel it hum under his feet. The soft vibration works its way up his body-it’s nice, he decides, to be able to focus on figuring out what exactly was running down below rather than his brother collecting a number of things before moving behind him. Danny was close enough to the wall that his fingers traced along barely there seams between the smooth, cool to the touch metal. He wouldn’t know how durable it is unless someone told him what the material was, but the likelihood of them divulging their secrets was very low, if nonexistent. 

Still Danny was free to wonder, no one could restrict his thoughts. What kind of weapons systems did it have? Surely there must be a bathroom. Regular planes had those small ones, if Danny’s experience with Vlad’s displays of wealth told him anything, the obnoxiously rich liked to embellish their already expensive things with expensive add-ons. Danny can’t yet see how big the cabin is, but he’s perched on some sort of cot. He must be in some sort of medical treatment area that the Bats use when they get injured on missions and there is no doctor readily available. 

If things go well after his eyes are healed maybe his father would let him take a look around? (They currently were itching something fierce as they slowly healed.) 

The parallel between the Fentons and Bruce Wayne’s intelligence was not lost on Danny, and he cannot help but feel so heart wrenchingly fond.  He has had a lifetime habit of collecting parents that have made brilliant vehicles. 

(He ached for the time before the portal when he was close with the family that took him in, when that GAV was simply an RV to take deep in the woods and lay out a blanket on the hood or roof to watch the stars, talking about the possibility of something more out there.)

Danny can’t stop his flinch from where Nightwing had accidentally rubbed too hard along the edge of his shoulder. “Hey Bud?” Nightwing calls out, “Lookin at your back, well, some of the tissue has started dying,” The man genuinely sounded upset about it, did he not know? “it’ll need to be removed, but I’ll have Agent A take a look when we get off a moving vehicle, okay?” His brother finished explaining over Danny’s internal tangent. His back doesn’t hurt that bad, which is concerning in its own way since the wound was- as dick pointed out- awful, but it did draw him back out of head. Danny bobs his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll clean them up the best I can for now.” Danny probably wasn’t supposed to hear that mumble that sounded like Richard was talking to himself, as though he was reassuring himself there was something productive he could do to improve the situation. 

Despite the setback, the vigilante is calm, sitting behind Danny painstakingly cleaning his back wounds. So far unshaken by what Danny is certain is a grotesque scene the man is chattering away about patrols and the person called Agent A, who he is reassured will meet them back at the Cave. It kind of amazed Danny how the man was able to endure his tiny flinches and hissed breath to try while trying to distract him. Danny currently wasn’t an easy patient to stomach. 

The sores tunneled down through fat and muscle to his bone. Most of the sores were in stage four, it didn’t take them long to eat away at him and fester, even before becoming a halfa the boy was tall and willowy meaning he had no body fat to slow down the progression of the forming injuries. They hadn’t tried to hide anything from him in the time he was trapped there. After all, if a ghost isn’t sentient, it can’t possibly understand in-depth scientific experiments so why bother to attempt secrecy that would be a waste of precious time and energy. They had simply discussed it like everything else, over his twisted body for most of the day. The scientists had only moved him previously when they needed access to a different part of his body. When they discovered his body started to develop bed sores They were excited. (Danny felt himself slipping away from his body into his memory, he was slipping away from Richard.)

“That’s odd…Honey! Look,” The woman said softly some time into his captivity. She’s pointing at his side, Danny can’t tell what she could be pointing at, all of him hurts. He can’t remember what they did there that could be worth pointing out now. Them not remembering sends a weak chill down his spine, they kept meticulous notes even if it was swallowed by their disorganized storage, it shouldn’t be possible for them to be surprised at the state he’s in since they carefully crafted the condition he’s in. Her fingers flick his collar on, unbuckling the right restraint as she goes before they sharply dig into his right shoulder, before flipping him onto his side roughly to see from another angle like that old map on their family trip to see Aunt Alicia last summer. “It’s getting sores! Stage two I’d say.” 

“Bed sores? It’s hurting itself?” The man’s voice comes out bewildered before he leans closer to see and then cheerfully muses. “Seems like the ectoscum can cannibalize itself! Look at the inflammation! Do you think the infection and strain could kill a ghost?” Danny whimpers behind his muzzle when he can feel the man in his curiosity starting to poke at the edges of the wound with something metal and sharp. “Huh, Mads?” The man prompts.

The woman doesn’t respond. Their silence blankets the room, the scientists both thinking over what they see, what it means. 

The woman makes a small sound and goes rigid reaching for her husband. “I-It’s damaging Danny’s corpse!” She wails in grief, Danny wants to wail right along with her that they’re already destroying his body, "Degrading him further-” A sob echoes in the lab ripping his heart into tatters, Danny tries not to think too hard on the fact he’s so affected by her distress even though they’ve been elbow deep in his ribcage, poking, prodding and removing organs. He tracks the diagonally moving tears as they dribble down the side of his face, across his left cheek to disappear into his hairline. He feels ashamed, after all this hurt, he still loves them, his core still cries out for them. He realizes she’s not just sobbing now the woman is screaming at his prone form, “-how cruel is your species going to be!? Get out. GET OUT OF OUR SON! Murderer! You-” 

NO!

No, now isn’t the time to think about that. 

Danny can taste the iron from his bitten cheek and the salt from wayward tears. He takes a deep breath trying to ground himself in the present. Nightwing had seen the lab, the sight of the mad scientist’s work had made him physically sick, pulled him so carefully from that table, smoothly carrying him away from his own personal hell to the Batplane. They aren’t here. He was… safe with his brother, for the moment.

A crackle of static explodes from behind him causing Danny to flinch away from his brother before a mess of different voices comes through. He can’t hear what they’re saying, the voices too tangled, too unfamiliar, and too quiet since he didn’t have a direct connection, but whatever is said at the end is enough for the vigilante to go rigid and pause in his ministrations to reply. “Woah, B, I’m still here, no need to sound so scary!” Richard chuckles a bit and doesn't feel scared or worried, so Danny relaxes again. 

The eldest son hums, “No, I just was ignoring you,” Danny cracked a small smile at the plume of amusement that drifted between them. Richard’s hand grasps his own gently, “Yes I know how batty you get when I shut off my comms. Yes, I found the main lab.” Richard huffs, “Yes. B, I got ‘im out, we’re in the plane, I’m looking over him now. Have you forgotten I’ve been doing this with you since I was eight or that I took over the Batman mantle under the assumption you were dead?” Richard's voice strains a little in frustration by the end.

Another smaller burst of noise comes quickly in response. Danny flushes weakly in embarrassment as he realizes, like with Team Phantom, it was probably Nightwing’s team all talking over each other in his earpiece. Danny’s core aches at the thought of his sister and friends, how long has it been since Danny’s heard their voices? Weeks? Months? Ancients, could he have been with Them for a year? More?

A single voice breaks through over the others, whatever was said had Nightwing tense, ready to spring to his feet, bursting at the seams with rage-protect-refusal-grief. 

The sudden change in his bubbly brother would’ve knocked Danny down had he been standing, because he isn’t standing Danny reaches out. Danny might not trust him but his father’s eldest hasn’t even tried to hide what he was feeling. Might not know he needs to. He has his ‘eyes’ wide open now. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice and he became a lab frog. There will not be a third time. Danny will not trust this side of his family blindly but that doesn’t mean he can turn away from the man now.

He squeezes his brother’s hand gently to draw his attention, Danny could hear the man force himself to take a long, deep breath. A soft burst of affection-love-love-love-protection brushed against him in return. It was delicate and wispy but strong enough to linger in the air around them. It couldn’t hurt to keep the contact going, Danny decided. Anything to keep that depressing cocktail of emotions from creeping back. 

“No.” Another breath, “Stay there and finish what we started.” The tone is cold and leaves no room for argument. “No one comes on board. This isn’t about what you, or Robin or anyone wants. This is about him. What he needs to feel safe enough to leave here with me. This is about trust. So. If he has decided that he would like some peace and quiet on the way home, he’ll be getting it. Anyone who has an issue with that can take it up with me in the ring when we get back. Any questions?” Nightwing growls into his comms, a singular voice says something after a moment. 

Danny strains to try and catch what was said. He doesn’t want them to fight over him. “Good,” His brother loses the edge to his voice, “I’ll send the plane back to pick you guys up!” The coms shut off abruptly and he says to Danny, “Sorry about them!” 

Danny just shrugs in response as his brother resituates himself on the cot, unhooking Danny’s hand from his to move it so it rested against Richard’s calf. Danny accepted the change with a weak flex of his hand feeling the rasp of kevlar against his palm. Danny always remembered it because of its interesting texture. Perfect for their dangerous nightlife. If Danny needed armor this is what he’d want to get his hands on, a team with resources tends to help too. Keeping in touch with one’s team is important, Danny can’t fault Richard for that. They settle back into a comfortable silence. 

Because they were connected it was easy to catch the beginnings of Richard’s hesitance stirring, “If.. How would it make you feel if your brother wanted to see you?” Richard asks hesitantly as he unexpectedly starts on a new wound making Danny flinch forward. “Sorry Danny.” The genuine, unfiltered feeling of remorse unsettles Danny a bit but instead of retreating he leans into it. The people who once had been his parents- who he still loved despite what had happened, it was all encompassing and intertwined with his anger and longing- had never felt remorse for hurting him. Danny shook his head a bit, Richard is still waiting for a response. 

His brother? Richard was his brother, technically, even if Danny’s not sure he can risk staying with the Bats. He won’t deny anyone their connection to Bruce or Batman. Richard was gentle and caring while his emotions bubbled up and warmed Danny to his core like he was in a jacuzzi. He couldn’t have meant himself so that must mean one of the others wanted to see him? Would they be like Richard? Are any of them upset at the idea that another child was connected to Bruce? 

They were all siblings, all family through their father but that doesn’t mean the connection has to be acknowledged or the label meant anything. Brother, sister, son, they were all just words. Family extended only as far as the living with the Fentons. Him being half-dead disqualified him quickly once they discovered his secret. Danny wasn’t exactly excited to find out what his father and his brood thought of his after-life.

Unsure, Danny shrugged again and played with the sweatshirt, he liked bunching it in his hands. 

A few minutes of silence went by before a beeping started up. His brother sighed, not sounding surprised and started digging around looking for something. That something is placed in his hand, it takes a second for Danny to work out what it is. A comm. He throws a questioning hum back at Richard. “He’s calling on a private line, I figured you could listen in and make your own decision.” That. That was very considerate. Giving him a choice. Seems to be on trend for the man. Danny is rightfully suspicious but slips the comm into his ear nodding to go ahead and connect them. There’s a beep signaling the connection was established. Danny wasn’t prepared who he would hear on the other end.

“Wing. I am converging on your location. What is his status?” The voice is breathless, and the tone is harsh, filled with frustration but familiar. A voice lost to time and those damned sand dunes. 

“He’s currently conscious, Little D. Banged up but we expected that. Thought I told everyone to hold their positions?” He questions softly, a distinct contrast to the almost harsh tone he used on the comms earlier. Dick knows Damian has been desperate to find Danny running himself into the ground searching labs and bases, the team tried and failed to get him to rest or slow down for a moment to regroup. Isn't surprising that he’s decided to abandon his part of the mission and head for the plane. It kills Dick but he’ll have to be very firm in his stance besides Danyal, if he says no other Bats on the plane, Dick will leave Damian behind.

“Tt. I did not abandon my responsibilities. Orphan is finishing our section,” Damian sounds offended their brother even implied that he didn’t do a thorough job, the familiar reaction lessens some of the uncertainty Danny is feeling. “I have arrived, open the doors, Wing.”

“Sorry Baby Bat, no can do!” Nightwing cheerfully responds, “I’m-” Danny tugs hard on the man’s sleeve.

Danny signs frantically, D.A.M.I. comes aboard. Now. Hurry. We are mirrors. Dangerous 

The man looks confused at his interjection but has such a soft smile on his face at Danny’s response until it turns to a frown at the last bit, one that Danny realizes with a start that he can finally see. Slowly the man reaches for his comm, “Scratch that, Baby D says you need to come aboard. Looks like those bastards could have it out for you too.” 

~~~~~~~

Dick watches both of his brothers as Robin rushes inside as soon as the door is cracked enough to squeeze through. Dick stays where he is by the console, hitting the buttons to close the door and listens to the many locks reengage. Once secure he inputs their destination and hits autopilot. Better to get Danny to Alfred as soon as possible now that both twins are on board. If he has to separate them… Well, there are some tranquilizers on board and Dick is sure Damian could enjoy his nap in the bathtub as punishment for upsetting their very injured new sibling. Damian freezes a few steps from the door, Dick sees the desperate drive to find his twin that has been hounding the boy for weeks extinguishing the moment he laid eyes on the cot. He’s ripping off his domino mask with no hesitation, exposing his full face for them to see.

Dick almost relaxes when he sees the awe that broke through first on Danny’s face at Damian’s entrance, the emotion flickers away quickly before he tucks his chin in and his face is obscured in shadow. The urge to jump in and soothe him rises so quickly Dick almost rises from his seat but instead throws his weight back further until his hip digs in a bit to the arm and he knows he will remain in place. He would not interfere unless Danny became physically distressed. Danny had wanted to see Damian, Dick reminds himself. Dick had a few reasons he had even asked the boy about it. If things went well it truly would be good for both of the twins. 

Dick had seen Damian determined before, seen the kid get news that left him shaken and lost, but no one had seen him flip flop from rattled to be as focused or push himself that hard, not even when Damian was convinced the only way to prove his worth to Bruce was killing his older siblings. He’s grown so much over the years and is now making his own decisions and having so many different experiences, his little brother has learned so much and came so far. Dick didn’t think it was possible to feel prouder. 

“Dami.” Danny croaks with a wince and a hand at his throat. He’s looking at his lap, his other hand fiddling with the sheets.

“Danyal.” Damian’s voice wavers, “Ahki.”  The boy is rooted to his spot, waiting for permission to approach. The words visibly hit Danny and he shakes his head a wounded whine. He clearly didn’t expect his twin to be here nor Damian to recognize him as blood, as a brother. Danny’s hand drops the sheet reaching for Damian. His body starts to tilt forward, and Dick can’t help but take a step towards them even as Damian rushes to meet Danny, carefully draping his arms around Danny’s shoulders which gently keeps him from falling to the floor. There isn’t much unbroken skin to rest Damian’s arms on, but Danyal hardly seems to care.   

A heart wrenching sob fills the cabin, their youngest sibling gripping Damian’s cape so tightly his knuckles are white. Dick can just make out the quiet tones of Damian speaking Arabic quietly in their brother’s ear. Their bodies sway with the instinctual drive to comfort, it’s touching, very cute… 

Always one to take advantage of sibling shenanigans Dick quickly pulls out his phone with a smile and snaps a picture to send to the boys later… And the group chat that Damian isn’t in. Picture sent, he tucks his phone away. His phone vibrates with multiple notifications but doesn’t check it. The Bat Brood can simmer. Dick smirks as he moves back over to the sink to wash his hands so he can continue treating Danyal’s back. The tears and sobs abruptly cut off behind him. 

“Fuck.”   

~~~~~

If Danny didn’t just spend an unknown amount of time being tortured by the family that chose him as a child, he would be sinking through the floor in mortification. Damian was here. His gaze burned from the entrance and Danny for a long moment was afraid. What was Damian seeing when he gazed at the pathetic picture Danny made hunched on the cot? Danny couldn’t help but fidget with the sheet to try and ease the unsteady feeling in his chest. He’d wait. Yes. Let Damian brave the quiet- “Dami.” The broken sound leaves his throat, oh ouch. 

He raises a hand to hover over the area, cradling it as if his palm could dampen the scratching pain. Danny waits. He had fucked it up. He hasn’t even given his brother the respect of meeting his gaze. (Not that he can see clearly for more than a foot in front of him, everything past that was misshapen and difficult to make out.) What in the Infinite Realms has possessed him to call out to Damian so casually, affectionately? Damian had only ever allowed that name in the hush of the night when they were alone. 

“Danyal.” Oh. “Ahki.” Oh. Oh Damian, his other half. Awe-grief-regret-vengeance- protect-help-love whipped across the space between them, heavy and fierce Danny can’t help but shake his head with a sharp whine. Guilt chokes him for doubting his twin, his other half. With distance he was able to bottle up his yearning and then he was so busy with the portal, rogues and Zone, he had been too exhausted to reminisce too deeply about his childhood. He kept his eye on the news for surface level stuff, had seen his brother go to their father but didn’t dare make a move to follow him. 

He regrets that now as Damian slips his arms around his shoulders gently securing him back onto the cot. Damian was holding him like he’d shatter at too hard of a grip, but Danny doesn’t care, he’s in his brother's arms. Damian is hugging him. Danny can’t stop the sobs that bubble from his chest, it hurts each inhale pulls at his y-incision, the pain he hasn’t felt rushing forward. Danny fists fabric and pulls his brother close.

"Baby brother,” Damian crooned in quiet Arabic “Danyal, I’m here. I got you. You did well enduring until help arrived, I’m so proud of you.” Damian’s emotions were overwhelming, they accompanied his sweet words enveloping his senses. He wasn’t lying, Danny can feel it. The rage that’s rising within Damian should scare him yet he’s leaning on his brother harder. Damian is furious with Them, not Danny.  He sobs and listens to his brother's promises of safety, of retribution. He feels safe here cradled close in Damian’s arms. Truly safe, something hidden deep within him unwinds. 

He knows how stubborn his twin is, how he would’ve fought tooth and nail to be part of the team that was looking for him. He’ll have to ask about that later, how they’d even know to go looking for him when he’s years dead, buried, and bones for his birth family. He was a little mad they’d bring his brother here when- 

His core shutters in his chest. The feeling that something was wrong hit Danny harder than Skulker. “Fuck.” Danny reluctantly pulls back from Damian. His core pulses weakly. Danny somehow knows it’s a warning. 

“Danyal?” Damian sounds wary, his hand grips Danny’s arm tightly. The pressure is reassuring because Danny is so scared right now. But this could be worse. With Damian here, perhaps things will turn out okay.  

Danny wants to linger looking at his eyes. A shade he’s never found a substitute for, but so desperately tried to keep fresh in his memory. Time slows. His core pulses. Danny’s body wavers for a heartbeat in his brother's grip. “What is happening?!” Damian looks alarmed, his grip tightening and releasing like he does with his blades while gearing up for a fight. It’s cute and almost makes Danny coo at his elder brother.  

Running out of time Danny grits his teeth and frees his arm to start signing as fast as he can to try and explain. It would help if he knew how much they knew about him, the Fentons, the GIW and ghosts but they didn’t have time for a report. He doesn’t want to say too much but he has to warn them. If Vlad finds out he’s away from the GIW and vulnerable he was screwed. The Bat Parade isn’t trained in ghost fighting. Danny would be taken and who knows if he’d ever be able to escape.

Had an accident. Not fully human. Too much physical damage- Danny signs.

His core pulsed weakly interrupting him before it pulled, his body rippled in sync. His head swims, words are hard to remember for a moment. Danny has to hurry, and he isn’t really sure how he wants to phrase this next part, if anything causes the Bats to change their minds about helping him, it won’t matter what Damian wants. The only way for Danny was through, avoidance wouldn’t help at this point. 

-I’m about to hibernate in my C. O. R. E. Core- He continues.

“Core? What is a core?” Dick breaks in. Danny’s eyes jumped to the man, before focusing back on Damian, there wasn’t time. They would barely be getting a shitty explanation out of Danny didn’t have time for questions from the peanut gallery. Damian's gaze is calm and steady when it meets his. He hasn’t turned away from him, he didn’t interrupt. 

 -I haven’t seen it, but it’s… my everything, heart, organs, brain. Core heals. Without a human body DANGEROUS for me. Danny is sure to emphasize again, DANGEROUS, vulnerable. 

Find J. A. Z. Z. F. E. N. T. O. N. Useful. Ally- Danny hesitates on why but gives in- knowledge, weapons, shields. 

V.L. A. D. Enemy. Vlad is bad. Don’t trust. 

He makes the sign for creep and sees Damian’s expression shutter under his protective rage. An instinctive small trill leaves Danny’s lips, pleased that if Vlad shows his face Damian won’t make it easy for him to have his way. 

Despite his best effort Danny is losing steam his instructions come out choppy. He has moments left. 

Damian watches him, like he can feel Danny’s core shift, resignation seeps off his body in waves but determination makes his expression fierce, “You will be safe, Danyal. I will be here when you return.” We will be together. Danny hears the unspoken promise. 

A. H. K. I. You’re a target. I love you. Danny signs their personal signal for head on a swivel and then reels Damian back in, desperate for one last touch to make him real. Tucked in his twin's arms Danny gives himself over to that feeling of safety, clinging to it as he sank into his core. 

~~~~~

Damian blinked light out of his eyes and frowned at the big black spot taking up his vision. His hand now hid what was left of his twin. Danyal had just been in front of them horribly hurt but alive. Finding and freeing his twin was all that had mattered to him. Damian lightly squeezes the hand holding his brother’s quiet core to feel the shape of it in his palm. Once more in his life Danny’s vibrant presence is just out of his reach. 

Grief is an old friend that rises to swallow him. Damian beats it back viciously. Black and blue move closer in his peripheral vision, his eldest brother snatches him close-no. Them close. His brother is still alive. He’s healing. Damian reminds himself despite the sudden wave of failure that crashed into him. Holds onto the thought stubbornly as he examines the stone in his hand. It’s the same shade of blue that makes up Danyal’s eyes. 

The impulsive part of him calms looking into the swirling blue. 

If he hadn’t seen the transformation himself. If he hadn’t been allowed aboard… he wouldn’t believe it. Damian is immensely grateful that captivity hadn’t broken his brother, not completely. Danny had been hesitant but had put his trust in them. Damian had seen his hesitation, the wariness, how Danyal had shrunken into himself, his instincts likely screaming to run, to hide. Whether that trust was because he chose to, or if he ran out of options, Damian didn’t want to know the answer. The unknown time between them no longer was a curiosity to be explored in ‘what ifs’ but a potential threat that Danyal needed to handle carefully. It stung, it being logical didn’t detract from that. Too many years apart, too much had changed within each of them, and their relationship cut short before it took off but not before carving out a part of him. Nothing could compare to the cruel crater Danyal’s life had left in his wake of his death.

His twin’s core gleamed innocently in his palm. 

“Damian.” Richard’s worried tone draws his attention away from Danyal’s new form. 

Damian keeps his gaze on the core, takes a calming breath and promises himself that when Danyal is back, they’ll go to the place he secured and created with his twin in mind after coming to Gotham, show him Damian’s sketchbooks and paintings, and introduce him to the animals in his care. Damian will finally get to share this strange, chaotic, but warm family with him, as he was always meant to. Damian would be careful that there would be no mistakes, no lead unfollowed, every piece would be gathered together and turned over, a plan would be made that would safeguard their victory. Danyal is relying on him. Damian will utilize everything he’s gained over their years apart to protect his brother.

“Release me,” Damian demands as he wiggles out of his brother’s arms, but it doesn’t come out as firm as it would normally and turns to glance at the closest monitor. They still had two hours left until they arrived at the manor. Damian glances at Danyal’s core in his hand before he turns to face Richard. He looks like he needs to lie down but he has managed to keep a wobbling smile on his face. “Tt this is a mere setback,” Damian scowls at the little marble, he can’t be mad when his little brother gave him such valuable information on what pieces are on the board, the board he’s been playing on wherever he’s been hiding. 

“Here, hold him for a moment- No!” Damian’s shout is too loud, it echoes around the cabin. His panic morphs his expression and his brother thankfully does halt his casual reckless reaching for their brother who is a quarter-sized marble. Danny only had said he was vulnerable before he ran out of time, they must exert the utmost caution. There would be no causal anything going on with Danyal in this state. “Let me. Please hold them flat.” Damian says softening his tone, Danny going into his core wasn’t Richard’s fault nor was it the families. He didn’t want to take his frustration out on him when Damian knows his eldest brother is reeling at the transformation right alongside him. The soft tone makes Richard’s smile come a bit easier this time at Damian’s mother henning and Damian tries not to preen under the approval he can see in Richard’s dopey smile. Carefully he places Danyal in Richard’s hands, they close softly around Danyal in a protective cage. 

“He said he heals faster in this ‘core’?” It’s a silly question, but Damian nods watching Danny rest in Richard’s palms before sharply turning away to gather his things. He starts digging around for paper and a pen to make notes, folders for organizing the information, and his laptop before hunkering down. 

“Uh.. okay,” Richard’s confusion both amused him and had Damian ready to snap in frustration. Danny had spent his last moments in his body giving them information and it will not go to waste, not for a second. He carefully labels the folders with the names Danyal had given him, pointedly ignoring the crisis Richard seems to be going through next to him, before he turns on his laptop and starts his search with this ‘Jazz Fenton’. Danny didn’t give Vlad's last name but this woman has the knowledge, weapons, and shields the family will need to protect their youngest. Damian knows what loss is, knows this loss specifically, he is determined to never feel it dig his claws in again.