Chapter Text
Danny was in a lab. Again. But not the one in his parent’s basement. This one was larger, cleaner, the machines much fancier. He remembered Batman and Jason, but this wasn’t the batcave. He knew this lab. The portal behind him, he’s pretty sure that’s how he got here, whirled and echoed with the sounds of the Realms. The gaping wounds across his chest ached and burned and holding them closed with his hands did little to help.
“Oh, Daniel, you’ve gotten yourself into quite a pickle, haven’t you?”
Danny gasped. When he looked up his green eyes met cruel red.
“I didn’t-“ he tried to speak, but Vlad cut him off.
“Did you really think they’d welcome you with open arms? I always told you they wouldn’t.” He circled Danny as he spoke. Danny had been on his knees, but now he felt like he was on his back. He didn’t think he’d moved. “Now what? You come to me, begging for the help you so desperately need? What makes you think I’ll actually give it to you this time?”
The lab had started to fade away. Danny couldn’t remember what the rest of the room looked like. His vision was consumed with those red eyes and a black shadow in a white cape. He tried to follow Vlad’s circling form, but his body wouldn’t move. When he looked he saw cuffs around his wrists, holding him flat against the table.
Panic surged.
“Please…” Danny croaked, feeling blood and ectoplasm spilling from his lips. It flowed from his mouth, making him cough and choke.
“Naive boy! Why would I waste my time on a fool who got himself captured by the most oblivious and incompetent ghost hunters in the country?”
No! Vlad had to help him. He was Danny’s only hope.
But he was walking away. Turning with an overly dramatic twirl of his cape.
“No. Wait. Please. You can’t just let me die!” Danny screamed, the sound gargled by his own blood.
Vlad laughed. “You’re already half-dead, Daniel. Why not finish the job? Maybe once you’re a proper Ghost you’ll actually be worth something.”
The table and the cuffs vanished and Danny fell forward. He fell slow at first, then gained speed. He was falling for what felt like an eternity and no matter how he tried to fight against it gravity kept drawing him closer. The world around him spun and Vlad vanished, his laughter echoing in the void.
Something stopped his fall and his ribs ached with the force of the impact.
“… Daniel?”
Danny tried to catch his breath, but the blood was choking him now. He tried to cough and the void flickered. Was this it? Was he dying? Vlad left him to die.
Vlad…
“Master Daniel.” Something pressed on his shoulder and the spinning got worse.
Danny came-to in a jolt. Saliva pooled with his mouth and the nausea hit him like a truck. He was already leaning over the side of the bed and there was a trash can being held under his face. His body shook as he heaved and his ribs screamed. He felt the pull of the stitches or staples or whatever was keeping the skin across his chest closed. A couple of them ripped painfully after the second heave. Someone gently rubbed his back as he emptied his already mostly empty stomach. A soothing British accent reached his ears and then he remembered.
Alfred. Red. Batman. Batcave.
He had been rescued.
He wasn’t dead.
Vlad wasn’t here.
Danny breathed, forcing air down his throat. The acid stung and tasted awful, but his body seemed to finally be done. Once he got a few steady breaths in, Alfred helped settle him back onto the sickbed. He wiped the gunk off of Danny’s mouth and chin before Danny could even ask for a towel and held out a cup of water for him. Danny drank and hummed at the relief the cool water brought.
“There now.” Alfred said as he pulled the empty cup away. “You seem to have had quite a scare, Master Daniel. How are you feeling?”
“Just Danny. Please. Not Daniel.” Danny said, still hearing distant echoes of Vlad at the back of his mind.
“Of course, Master Danny. My question still stands, however. I doubt that episode came and went without upsetting your still fresh wounds.” His voice was calm and professional, but there was a warm concern to his tone.
Danny lifted the hand that he hadn’t realized was gripping the front of his shirt. When he let go he saw the blood beginning to seep through the fabric. Red. Not green. “Sorry.”
“My dear boy, there is nothing to apologize for. A little baking soda, peroxide and a good wash and it’ll be right as rain. ” Alfred insisted. “Would you allow me to check and see the damages?”
“Why ask? Aren’t you the doctor?”
“I am a butler, not a doctor. My skills begin to peter out once it comes to setting broken bones and performing surgeries.” Alfred explained. “And I asked, because you have every right to object if you are uncomfortable.”
“And you’d listen?” Danny asked, his brow furrowed in doubt.
“A popped stitch, or torn staple in your case, is hardly life threatening. If it is not an emergency then, yes, I will await your permission. We can move at whatever pace you find agreeable, Master Danny.”
Danny looked down at the borrowed t-shirt he was bleeding all over. Alfred just stood there, waiting, true to his word. Danny sighed and started to shrug out of the ruined shirt.
“Okay. Fine, I guess.”
Alfred turned and closed the curtains surrounding Danny’s bed. The cot that Red, Jason, had been on when he’d passed out was empty. The sight left Danny feeling alone and the foggy memory of Vlad walking away flashed behind his eyes.
“Master Jason will be returning shortly, I’m certain.” Alfred said, pulling the curtain around to block the spot Danny was staring at.
“Where did he go?”
“To attend to a few personal matters at my own request. The man still needs to eat and bathe, whether he wants to or not.” He turned back to Danny. “Now then, would you please lower your arms and lean back on the bed for me?”
Danny hadn’t even realized he was holding himself. He let his arms drop, feeling incredibly exposed and forced himself to stay calm. It only sort-of worked. He still wasn’t all that used to being shirtless around other people. Alfred was quick though. He moved like a professional, peeling away bandages, gluing skin back together and never lingering in one place. It would have reminded him of- the Fentons… but Alfred paused anytime Danny showed discomfort. He waited for a nod or a gesture from Danny to keep working before doing so. Again, true to his word. And, if he had any thoughts about Danny’s older scars, he didn’t mention them.
“I guess staples don’t really work a second time?” Danny asked, trying to strong arm some levity back into the room while Alfred literally glued him back together.
“Not when they’re torn, no, and sutures have little else to latch onto with the tears. Thankfully the bleeding has mostly stopped and the remaining staples seem to be doing their part. We can try the glue and bandages, but you will have to remain exceptionally sedentary until your wounds close.”
“Hopefully that won’t be too long.” Danny groused.
Alfred got Danny patched back up and even got him a new pillow. Honestly the guy was a little intimidating but he put a lot of effort into making Danny feel comfortable, like he wasn’t a bother. Even if he was stone faced and professional about everything, his intent was more caring than Danny really knew what to do with. He had to admit though, it was actually kind of nice to be taken care of.
Jason returned just after Alfred helped Danny into a clean shirt.
“You alright?” Jason asked.
“Oh yeah.” Danny replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Me and my nightmares are absolutely thriving.”
Jason sucked in air through his teeth. “Yikes. That sucks. At least you got a few hours though. You want any breakfast?”
Danny shrugged. “I probably should, but I’m not exactly feeling hungry. As it turns out, vomiting is not great for appetite.”
“Perhaps a light soup to start.” Alfred offered, his attention focused on getting Danny a fresh IV bag. “Afterwards, if you’re feeling up for it, we can try something more substantial.”
“Uh… yeah. That- sure. That sounds like a good idea.” Danny faltered. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, but-
“Trust me, even Alfred’s simplest soups are delicious.” Jason assured him.
“Oh, it’s not that. I just- I mean-“
“You don’t like soup?” Jason asked.
“No that’s not… I just…” the words died in his throat.
“Do you have any dietary preferences or restrictions?” Alfred asked.
“Not- well, it’s not like allergies or anything. It’s not a big deal, I can get over it. Soup is fine, thank you.” Danny hastened to reassure them, plastering on a smile and trying to lighten his tone. Neither looked at all reassured.
Jason and Alfred exchanged a look.
“How about just some saltines?” Jason offered.
Danny felt his shoulders relax a fraction, though the guilt eating him up inside persisted. “That’ll work.”
“I’ll return shortly, then.” Alfred said, turning on his heel and striding out of the med bay.
Jason watched him go, then turned back to Danny. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”
“Not really.” Danny said, quick and snappish. He felt raw, both internally and externally. He didn’t like talking about the food thing. It was embarrassing. And… more than embarrassing, it was just a reminder of how fucked his own life was.
Jason hummed and took up his post on the cot next to Danny’s. “Alright then. What’s your favorite movie?”
Danny rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Whatever I’ve got time to go see with my friends, I guess?”
“You don’t like books or movies?” Jason asked, giving Danny a dubious look.
“It’s not that I don’t like them! I already said books are hard to focus on and, I don’t know, movies are just kind of… there. A temporary distraction to pass the time.” Danny brought a hand up to fiddle with the collar of his shirt. He knew he was being sensitive and prickly, but he couldn’t bring himself to respond any other way. “I liked watching them with my friends back home and cracking jokes and making fun of bad acting and stuff, but… it’s not really something I do by myself.”
“You’re not used to spending time by yourself, huh?” A more gentle, probing tone colored Jason’s voice and for some reason that put Danny even further on edge.
“Can we just ‘not’ with the twenty questions today?” Danny said, trying his best not to lash out. “I’m not- it’s not a good time.”
Jason didn’t reply to that. When Danny looked up, the other man seemed to be thinking. His chin rested atop a loosely clenched fist, elbows on his knees. He glanced up at Danny, his eyes more teal than blue, and hummed. Then he snapped his fingers and sat back.
“Video games.”
Danny sighed, biting back every instinct that told him to lash out at this unhearing jerk. “Look I really don’t want to answer more questions, Red. I-“
“No. No. Not a question. A statement.” Jason assured, standing to his full height and striding around Danny’s bed. “You’re basically bedridden, so there’s not much to offer, but video games are an easy enough way to pass the time so that you don’t have to sleep.”
Danny watched as Jason grabbed a solid wood side table from a corner of the room and hefted it with ease. Like it weighed nothing. Whatever frustrations had been swimming around Danny’s head vanished at the sight. The short sleeve, tight fitted shirt Jason wore had his biceps on full display. Danny fought back a blush while he watched Jason bring it over and set the table at the foot of Danny’s bed. Jason leaned back and nodded.
“Give me fifteen minutes and I can have at least a tv and console down for you.” Jason turned and vanished out of the med bay, leaving a very flustered and emotionally whiplashed Danny to gather his thoughts.
Alfred returned soon after that with an unopened sleeve of crackers and a sealed bottle of water for Danny and a full plate of breakfast that he sat next to Jason’s cot. The bacon alone smelt divine and made Danny’s mouth water. But he knew better. He forced himself to stick to his crackers. He must have been hungrier than he’d thought, because he was halfway through the sleeve when Jason returned, arms full of a tv, game box and a handful of wires.
It took more than fifteen minutes, but before long Danny and Jason were settled in and quipping at one another while playing a fighting game. Jason practically inhaled his bacon and eggs, but took his time with the pancakes. Danny had long since polished off the crackers and he must have been staring, because at some point Jason just held out his plate to him, offering some of his own food. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look away from the character select screen. Just held the plate between them like an olive branch.
Danny took it.
It was just pancakes. And Jason had eaten about half of them and seemed fine. Danny knew he was being stupid. It wasn’t his parent’s cooking. Hells, he wasn’t even in Amity Park. The food wasn’t going to come to life or make him sick. He just needed to try.
Hesitantly, Danny cut a piece and brought it to his mouth. It. Was. Perfect. Perfect texture. Perfectly sweet. Danny practically melted in his seat. He hummed and went to cut himself a second bite, only to pause.
He’d had tasty food before.
The quality of food didn’t change whether or not it was safe to eat.
Danny set the plate down on the little table in front of Jason. He wanted more but… better to not. Danny went back to trying to pick a character while Jason took a couple more bites of his breakfast. Then he scooted the plate towards Danny. Again, no words or suggestions. Just a silent offering. And… for whatever illogical reason, it made the anxiety pooling at the back of his throat loosen.
Danny took a bite.
They played a round, which Jason won.
Jason took a bite.
Round two. Danny snuck a bite after pulling off a combo Tuck had showed him months ago.
They went back and forth until the pancakes were gone and Danny felt the gnawing hunger dim along with the nausea and fear. It felt silly, but, for once, that fact didn’t make him feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was okay to be a little silly. Maybe if it was Jason, it wasn’t silly at all.
Ancients, that sounded sappy even to Danny’s brain.
“Alright! I concede.” Jason said, after Danny had managed to get two wins on Jason. He tossed his controller onto his cot and held up his hands. “I know when I’m beat.”
Danny chuckled, careful to keep his breaths soft and light so that his ribs weren’t upset. “So, what else did you have in mind for passing the time?”
Jason sighed. “Well, we could go back to talking about the Count of Monte Cristo. You kinda started fading at the halfway point.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“No worries, dude.” Jason assured him, shrugging it off like being ignored while talking about something he was obviously passionate about didn’t hurt down to his very bones. Maybe for Jason, it didn’t.
“I did like the way you told it.” Danny said. “Last part I remember was something about an attempted baby killing?”
“Oh, yeah, Benedetto. Alright, so, Villefort-“
“The most obvious villain name to be picked-“
“Tries to kill his illegitimate son when he was a baby, but fails, gets stabbed and Dantes finds the kid years later and ropes him into his whole revenge plot.” Jason explains.
“Because of course he does.”
The pair go on like that for another two and half hours. Alfred came back in that time and cleared the plates of breakfast. He also topped Danny’s IV meds off and rebandaged his arm. All the while Danny listened to Jason talk and it made everything else fade into the background. He wondered, briefly, if this was what other ghosts felt like when talking to him. Or, rather, when he was info-dumping to them. This comforting presence. This feeling that, even if you didn’t really care about what the guy was talking about, it still held your attention because he was the one talking. This silent knowing, a feeling deep in their core, that things were okay. He knew it was ghost stuff(the feelings, the energy, the aura of comfort), but at that moment he didn’t want to understand it or look into it any deeper. The pain meds were doing their job and Jason was helping. As rough as the day had started, for now Danny just wanted to enjoy the moment.
He passed out to the tune of Jason’s voice not long after that and this time the nightmares didn’t plague him. He didn’t even dream. He just slept.
——-
Danny slept most of the second day away, in and out for hours at a time, but he could feel his core strengthening. It was annoyingly slow compared to what he was used to, but it was something. His wounds were almost closed in some places, but stubbornly scabbed in others. Some spots wouldn’t even heal that much and kept bleeding if prodded. Alfred cleaned the open spots as best he could and tried some other salves and remedies. Any glues they tried seemed to dissolve away after a few hours. Nothing got worse, but the stubborn spots didn’t get better.
He needed more ectoplasm.
There was some ambient ecto nearby, but seeing as Danny could barely get out of bed, that didn’t really help matters. That said, it was a little concerning to feel such a consistent source of ecto so far from a portal. He wondered if Gotham had a natural portal underneath it somewhere. He glanced around at the batcave, noting that while areas where additional supports had been installed were dug into the rocks, most of the cave itself seemed naturally carved. Old caves made by nature, not people.
“Does Gotham have a lot of these caves?” Danny mused out loud as Jason helped to rebandage his arm. He’d opted to stay in with him tonight instead of going on patrol, though Danny could tell the choice wasn’t an easy one. Jason’s haunt was clearly very important to him. Not just as a home or because it was his. No, there was something deeper there. Something stronger that fueled his protectiveness.
Jason opened his mouth to speak, but the answer came from the foot of the bed.
“Why do you ask?” The Batman asked.
Danny startled at his presence and Jason made a sound like he was holding back a laugh. Danny glared at him.
“What?” Jason smiled. “You’re a literal ghost and yet you still get spooked by The Batman. It’s funny.”
Danny rolled his eyes.
Batman wasn’t quite as amused. “Why do you ask about the caves?”
“There’s a source of ectoplasm nearby. Like… maybe within two miles. In…” Danny focused for a moment and waved a hand vaguely through the air. “That direction. Since no one has mentioned a glowing green portal opening up or a sudden influx of spooky creatures walking through walls, I figure it would have to be below the surface. Maybe in another cave.” He shrugged. “No idea how long it’s been there, but if it’s an old portal then that would explain Gotham’s eerie reputation. That kind of ecto-radiation leaves a mark, no matter how small.”
Batman hummed, with slightly less growl in his voice than Danny expected.
“Is there a way to track that sort of radiation?”
Danny could track the source himself, but without any of the ghost tech his- the Fentons or the GIW used, the average person wouldn’t be able to notice it. “Well, sort of, but- oh! Hang on. I might be able to-“
Danny focused on his core, thinking he might have juuuust enough energy for a quick shift. The white rings appeared around his middle and the feeling of weightlessness enveloped him. It did not, however, bring comfort like the change usually did. Instead he felt dizzy almost immediately and his torso ACHED with pain. He really hadn’t expected it to linger this badly. He looked down and could still see the cuts across his chest, overtop of his seemingly undamaged hazmat suit. Most were healed, but the stubborn spots in his human form oozed green in this form. The pain of the cuts stung like acid and the bones underneath screamed. Flashes of memory, quick and tinged with fear, played behind his eyes and he felt his core flicker and cower in response.
Acting quickly, Danny turned his left hand intangible, reached into his right shoulder, pulled out a thumb drive and immediately switched back to his human form. He was breathing heavily, but at least the pain had diminished once he transformed again. Still there but not overwhelming.
It was just a quick switch.
It shouldn’t have been that bad.
A hand touched his back and Jason’s concern filled the air between them. Danny tried to send back reassurances, but they felt half hearted. Not a lie, cores couldn’t lie. More like his desire to ease Jason’s worry came through, but his own pain and fear tainted the intention.
“Are you alright?” Batman asked.
Danny nodded and held out the drive without a word. His hand trembled. He didn’t trust himself to speak without stuttering or breaking down. Batman took the thumb drive, but did not leave.
Once Danny caught his breath and forced his muscles to unclench, he sagged against Jason. He didn’t seem to mind, gently placing a hand on Danny’s shoulder and trying to send him feelings of comfort. Danny hadn’t really taught Jason how to do that, and he wasn’t really hitting the mark, but Jason trying to make him feel better was sweet.
“Sorry.” Danny finally said, sounding just about as winded as he felt. “Didn’t think it would be that bad.” He waved a hand at the thumb drive. “There’s a bunch of info on there. Schematics for ghost hunting devices, details on the GIW, files on known ghosts, stuff like that. I’d ask you to not go digging in my personal file, but I feel like Detective Batman isn’t going to just ignore free info on the stranger crashing in his cave and using up all his medical supplies.”
Jason tensed against him and when Danny looked up he and Batman were glaring at one another. Jason’s core thrummed in warning and his eyes were green again. Batman seemed unfazed.
“He’s not wrong.” Jason said, his tone accusatory. He held out a hand. “Why don’t I just send you what you need, old man? Take the temptation to cross boundaries away entirely.”
Batman’s expression didn’t change but the air grew thick with tension. Danny shifted, trying to think of what to say to deescalate the situation. He pulled away from Jason, just enough so that he wasn’t completely leaning against him, but Jason kept an arm around him.
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t trust him at least a little.” Danny said, forcing a bit of levity in his tone. For whatever reason that little attempt at reassurance only made the tension thicker as Jason’s hackles raised.
“Yeah, well dear old Batman here is practically an expert at fucking with people’s misplaced trust.” Jason said, hissing the man’s moniker like it was a curse.
“Jay-“
“Don’t.” The word sounded more like a growl than anything else. Jason’s anger flared and Danny could feel him itching for a fight. An outlet. Vengeance.
Batman waited for a few breaths, then held the drive out between them. Jason snatched it, like he thought Batman might change his mind in the blink of an eye, but the dark knight kept his movements slow. Clear. Easily read. The effort didn’t seem to calm Jason at all.
“Ok! That’s settled.” Danny said, trying to sound more sure of himself than he was. He patted Jason’s hand to get him to let go and leaned back against the pillows. “There should be a schematic on there for one of the ghost trackers. It should be able to find the ectoplasm source as well, but if the cave or portal or whatever is inaccessible, then you probably won’t get very far.”
“Thank you for the aid.” Batman said, his tone neutral. “There have been rumors about a Lazarus pool under Gotham for years. Even if ectoplasm is not the same as Lazarus water, we still need to keep an eye on a potentially untapped well of radioactive material under the city.”
“Probably a good idea.” Danny admitted. “Although, so long as people aren’t touching or ingesting it every day, ambient ectoplasm shouldn’t cause anyone any harm. And even if they did, it’s more likely to cause things like very mild ghost traits rather than an illness.”
“Ghost traits?” Jason asked.
“Yeah, like… my sister, for example.” He figured bringing up his sister wouldn’t hurt, given that he’d already mentioned his- the other Fentons. He didn’t really want to talk about Sam or Tucker too much. “She’s not a half ghost or anything close to it, but she was living in the same house as the portal for years. In a dark room her eyes have a faint glow to them and we noticed a while back that her feet don’t make a sound when she walks unless she is trying to make noise. If she focuses on it she can make sound, so she can sort of control it. But yeah, so long as she isn’t thinking about it, she can move in perfect silence, no matter how heavy her shoes are.”
Jason huffed. “In a place like Gotham, glowing eyes and quiet footsteps blend in pretty damn well.”
“It could explain how Killer Croc suddenly picked up some stealth skills.” Batman mused.
“Oh, come on. Waylon hasn’t even done anything in two months.” Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes. “He’s not being supernaturally stealthy, he’s going to therapy and keeping to his treatment. Just because things are quiet doesn’t mean there’s something evil going on.”
Batman grunted in reply.
Jason held up the thumb drive. “I’ll get you the tech stuff later, alright?” There was a challenge in his eyes, a thrum of his core, begging for the bat to stir the pot. To give him a reason to bite back.
But Batman just nodded, turned and walked out of the med bay. Jason noticeably relaxed and that made Danny breathe a sigh of relief.
“You wanna talk about that?” Danny asked.
“Not really.” Jason turned and looked down at him with a reproachful gaze. “That better not be some self-sacrificial bullshit thing you’ve got going on.”
Danny held up his hands. “I really didn’t think my ghost form would react that badly. I’m low on power, sure, but that was something else entirely.” He absently traced his fingers over his chest, feeling the staples beneath the fabric of his shirt. It stung, but nothing like it had earlier.
Jason watched him for a moment before his eyes slipped down to the drive in his hand. “And you just… can just casually manifest flash drives out of yourself?”
Danny met Jason’s gaze and blinked. “Oh. Oh, no. No, that’s not- I don’t create them, I just store things inside my ghost body sometimes.”
Jason’s eyes widened.
“It doesn’t hurt, or anything.” Danny rushed to reassure him. “Ghosts are pretty much entirely made out of ectoplasm. A bunch of tangible energy making a solid form at will, but it can just as easily take a different form if I want it too.” Jason just kept staring so Danny kept going. “Aaaand since I don’t really have pockets in my ghost form… flesh pockets! Sort of… but without any flesh.”
Jason blinked. “Genuinely not sure whether to be horrified or impressed.”
Danny chuckled. “Try not to think about it too much. Ghosts don’t exactly play by the laws of physics or biology.”
“And yet, your ghost form has bones?” Jason asked.
Danny stilled. “Yeah. Yeah I-“ Fear crept up the back of his neck as he remembered. Jason had seen his bones. His broken, snapped, bones. “Halfa’s are different.” Danny said. Or… he thought he said. He couldn’t hear his own voice, but he felt his lips move. That counted for something, right?
A warm hand settled on his shoulder and Danny’s eyes met Jason’s.
“Hey. Just breathe, alright.” Jason said, his voice soft and grounding in the deafening silence. He exaggerated an inhale and Danny did his best to copy him. They breathed together for a while. The fear and anxiety loitered just at the edge of his thoughts. Too close to ignore, but too far away to feel in their entirety. He balanced on that edge for an upset tingly long time while just trying to breathe.
Just focus.
Don’t fall.
Don’t let it take over.
Once breathing became easier he tried to find other things to focus on. At some point his eyes had slipped closed and the thought of opening them seemed too daunting at the moment. Then he felt the hand on his shoulder moving slightly. The fingers tapped out a rhythm that was easy to follow, but not completely consistent. A handful of beats in order, then a switch, then back to the previous beat.
A melody.
“What song is that?” Danny asked, his voice whisper quiet even to his own ears.
Jason hesitated, then continued the rhythm. “Don’t laugh.” Danny didn’t reply. Jason sighed. “Pink Pony Club.”
Danny smiled.
“I said no laughing.” Jason said, though Danny could hear the grin in his voice.
“Nah. It’s a good song.” Slowly he forced his eyes open and focused on Jason. “All the girls I know love it.” He teased.
Jason laughed and shook his head. “Alright, Phantom, what kind of music do you like then?”
Danny huffed a laugh. “You couldn’t keep up with my music taste.”
“Try me.”
——-
The next few hours were spent with Danny explaining how the remixes and mashups he liked so much added a certain quality to music that simply didn’t exist in typical pop. He borrowed Jason’s phone to bring up some videos and Jason, aghast, insisted that those didn’t count as ‘real songs’ since they were just cutting up and reusing music that other artists had made from scratch. They went back and forth and at some point got to talking about art as a whole and circled back to books for a bit. Danny was hesitant to fall asleep by the time Batman and Robin returned from patrol, but his little stunt earlier had left him winded.
He started to fade and Jason brought up a movie to watch on the game console. Some romcom that Jason said was just boring enough to zone out to just just stupid enough to laugh at. Danny insisted, once again, that Jason didn’t have to stay down there with him and Jason, once more, that he preferred it. Danny was out before the dashing young man with an obvious wig had made his second appearance.
By afternoon on day three Danny was still bedridden according to Alfred and bored out of his mind. He briefly talked to Batman and Robin a bit. Not about anything in particular. Just answering some of Batman’s questions regarding the ecto-drive schematics Jason had sent him. Neither of them were all that talkative, really. Robin didn’t even speak, just glared at Danny like he’d personally offended him with his presence. Batman made some suggestions regarding his recovery and told him a bit about what he had been looking into. Danny waved him off before he could get too into it though, stating that he would rather not know the details. He didn’t want to think about the Fentons. Not yet. They agreed to respect his wishes and Batman actually looked relieved.
Jason had made a point that Robin was not allowed to be alone with their still healing guest. And shockingly, Batman agreed. Other than these three and Alfred, Danny had yet to meet any of the others. Given what little he knew about Gotham’s vigilantes and the number of super hero names the group casually mentioned at night, Danny guessed there were at least four or five other bat-heroes that usually frequented the cave. Jason and Alfred remained his only constants though. Not that Danny was awake often enough to mind at first. But as he slowly healed and needed less rest, he found himself wondering about the others and why Jason was so on edge any time Batman or Robin came near.
Their presence made the corrupted ecto in Jason’s veins surge, but why? Had they done something to hurt him that badly? If so, why was he here? Why trust these guys at all? Danny kept his questions to himself and no one offered to explain. Jason just got more and more pent up.
On the evening of day three, Jason admitted he needed to leave to patrol Crime Alley.
“Can’t be gone for two nights in a row.” He said, though anyone could see he was torn between wanting to protect his haunt and stay with Danny. Plus Danny could literally feel Jason’s need to let off some steam. He needed air. Needed to be away from the cave and Batman for a while.
“I’ll be fine, Red.” Danny assured him. “Boredom never killed anybody… I don’t think.”
Jason didn’t seem convinced.
The vigilante/drug lord looked over to Alfred, who was tidying up one of the supply shelves. The two locked eyes and seemed to be having some sort of silent debate. Eventually Alfred exhaled in what could only be described as the world’s most reserved sigh.
“You’ll have to ask Batman yourself if he will allow it. Should he agree, then I will gladly facilitate the move.” Alfred said.
“Move? Move where?” Danny asked. He didn’t get a reply.
Jason looked over his shoulder at the wider cave. Batman was sat in front of the giant computer they had and Robin stood next to him. Jason grumbled, honestly more of a growl, and started walking over to the pair. Danny watched him go.
“Uh, you sure this is a good idea?” Danny asked. “I mean, I really am fine here. I don’t want to upset anything.”
“You’re not a burden, Master Danny.” Alfred assured him for what felt like the twentieth time. “Master Jason isn’t wrong to think you might need a change of scenery. And, while Batman may wish to keep certain things hidden, I do believe his efforts may prove futile in the long run.”
“I won’t go snooping. Promise.”
“I never meant to insinuate that you would.”
“Then what-“
“He said okay!” Jason interrupted. “So long as you’re with him, he’s cool with it.” Jason looked confident and proud, but his aura was more shocked than anything else. The anger wasn’t even flaring up, though that seemed to be less reactive the longer he spent around Danny. He still got wound up when Batman was near, but he was having an easier time of letting things go. Something both of them noticed and neither really knew what to make of. So many conflicting feelings in this poor guy’s core.
“Very well, then. Would the library, theater or den be more to your liking, Master Danny?” Alfred asked.
“… what?”
“I’ll be back for him around 4:00. Have fun, Danny.” Jason said, sliding the red helmet over his head and striding for the door without another word.
Danny ended up picking the den, which was the same as any other family living room he’d ever been in, so he didn’t get the need for a different name. After he finally convinced Alfred he didn’t need a wheelchair, he was taken to an elevator, passed through a huge clock and guided into the ‘den’, Alfred settled Danny onto the impressively comfy couch. There was a tv and more games and movies, a shelf of puzzles and board games and a little bookshelf by one of the large windows.
The whole experience felt like something between being dropped off at a babysitter’s house and being left on the couch during a sick day. Everything was off and unfamiliar and he still, admittedly, felt like shit. But, at the very least, the couch was a massive upgrade from the cot.
“Would you like some refreshments?”
Danny pursed his lips. No one had pressed the food issue, but he felt like shit for denying Alfred’s cooking and spoiled for only eating when Jason was around to share a plate with. Alfred had been making sure to offer closed packaged foods when Danny seemed most uncomfortable, and it helped, but the guilt kept eating at Danny.
“You know it’s not personal, right? I don’t- I don’t mean to be rude and it’s not that I don’t like your cooking. It’s great. Actually. I just-“
“I assure you, I’ve not taken your polite refusals as a personal slight.” Alfred said.
Danny tried to offer him a smile, but it didn’t quite hit the mark.
“You’re hardly the first person to wind up here who’s had some sort of food related trauma or ongoing health issue.” Alfred said, busying himself with moving the remotes within Danny’s reach and turning on the game systems as he spoke. “While I will not presume to know the underlying issue or be any sort of expert on the topic, the signs are not so difficult to spot. The symptoms, equally, are not a bother to work around. Like with the rest, you can choose to confront these issues when you are ready. There’s no rush.”
Alfred showed Danny how to work the tv and switch between movies and consoles before quietly excusing himself. When he returned half way through an old horror movie, one Sam loved to gripe about, he brought a sealed sports drink and some granola bars, still in their wrappers.
“It wasn’t as bad when it was just my parent’s cooking.” Danny said, unprompted, his eyes glued to the tv screen. “Honestly, after the accident the ecto-contaminated food actually helped a little with my energy levels. But… the meat coming back to life had always made dinner a bit unappetizing. Then they started putting anti-ghost “spices” in everything. And then… the city put blood blossom extract in the water. It’s like arsenic for ghosts.” Danny paused to take a breath. Alfred didn’t rush him.
“Dad’s actually a really good cook.” Danny admitted, smiling as a memory of 4th of July steaks on the grill in the back yard played behind his eyes. “He made the best roasts and sweets. His fudge is to die for.” The memories seemed to fade pretty quickly after that. He’d been eight years old. Over a decade ago. “After the second time I almost died from having tap water ice cubes in my soda, meals stopped being something to look forward to. Just another battleground where one mistake could be the end of me.”
Neither spoke for a while after that. The room was so silent that after a while Danny forced himself to look up just to see if Alfred had left already. He hadn’t. Alfred was watching Danny with eyes that held so much more emotion than what he was willing to show through the rest of his features. He seemed to collect himself after a moment and finally spoke.
“I’m sorry to hear that you’ve had such a difficult time with this. No one should have to play Russian roulette every time they sit down for a meal.” He met Danny’s gaze and held it. “You didn’t deserve to be put through that.”
Danny could feel the tears building at the back of his throat. He was right. Of course he was. Danny never was so self-loathing as to think he deserved to be treated like a villain in his own home, much less all the food stuff. But hearing it from someone else. So blunt and sincere.
Danny pulled his gaze away and tried to clear his throat, forcing a half-hearted laugh that sounded more like a broken sob.
“I know that.” He said, sniffling and trying to subtly rub at his eyes. “Doesn’t matter what I deserved. It’s what I got. And I hate it. I hate that I second guess every plate of food that isn’t vacuum or safety sealed. I hate that the only full meals I can ever stomach are deep fried or microwaved. I have no clue why it’s suddenly okay to eat something if Jason has some of the same thing too. It’s stupid and it makes no sense and it’s… its…” The tears spilled over and Danny’s voice drowned beneath the weight of emotion. Alfred let him cry and fall apart and waited for him to calm himself again before speaking.
“Would it help at all, if you prepared your own food?” Alfred asked.
Danny sniffled and considered the idea. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I was usually in charge of my own food at home… but I almost always got fast food or grabbed a tv dinner from the store. I never really learned how to cook.”
Alfred hummed. “Master Jason took to my cooking lessons better than any of the others ever did. He’s quite the skilled cook in his own right. I could teach you as well, once you’ve healed a bit more.”
“Maybe.” Danny wanted to accept. It was a good offer and he really ought to try any options just to see if something might stick. But… something kept him from saying ‘yes’. He didn’t know how long he’d be staying here anyways. Even if Batman seemed to be pretty wealthy, given the state of his above-the-cave house, he would surely wear out his welcome eventually.
“The offer is always open.” Alfred said, seeming to take Danny’s reluctance in stride. “In the meantime, would some fresh fruits be agreeable?”
Danny smiled a little at the offer. “Do you have any green apples?”
“As a matter of fact, we do.” Alfred said, the barest hint of a smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. “Any other requests?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to some pickle slices. Or just regular old cucumbers.”
“I’m sensing a ‘green’ theme.”
Danny shrugged. “Hey when it comes to fresh fruit and veggies, the green ones are always the best. Except peas. Peas are gross and have way too strong a taste for something so small.”
“I’ll certainly keep that in mind.” Alfred said.
He left and later returned with an unopened jar of pickles and two whole green apples. Danny ate and let himself relax. The movie played on and was followed by another and then another. At some point Danny must have fallen asleep, because he woke nestled up against something warm and solid. He blearily blinked his eyes open and looked up to find Jason, lounging with him on the couch, silently reading a book while the tv played quiet music in the background.
Jason looked down and did that sort of half-smile thing that he had to know was stupidly attractive.
“Go back to sleep, spooky.”
And, because it was Jason and because Danny was already exhausted as hell, he did. And, once again, the nightmares stayed away.
——-
“Have you checked the Far Frozen, yet?” Jazz asked, phone pressed between her shoulder and her ear as she steered the little car through the morning traffic, one handed. Her other arm, hung up in a sling she’d taken from the lab, ached and stung, but she paid it no mind. It wasn’t broken or bent, so it could wait.
Finding Danny was more important.
“Tuck is on his way there now.” Sam’s staticky voice answered. “Without the communicators, we’re gonna have to wait until he gets back to hear what he finds.”
“Any luck on your end?” Jazz asked.
“He hasn’t been by my place or my parents’. Val said she wasn’t getting any of his usual readings within Amity at all. I’m grabbing a few things from my folks so they don’t get suspicious and then I’m heading over to Vlad’s place.” Her voice was stern and matter-of-fact. Focused. Jazz wished she felt half the confidence that Sam seemed to draw up at the drop of a hat. “How’re things on your end?”
“The physical trail went cold before I even got out of the state. Any ectoplasm after that point was either too thin or too little.” Jazz said.
“That’s probably a good thing, Jazz. Either he managed to stop the bleeding or he healed on his own.”
“Or he-”
“No! We are not saying that.” Sam cut in. “Besides, we know what would happen in the worst case scenario and Danny, even as a ghost, would not let us worry like this for days. No. He’s definitely alive and is probably in too bad of shape to get to any of us. Which is why we aren’t going to give up looking for him. Right?”
Jazz inhaled shakily and blinked away the threat of tears from her eyes. Once she was sure her voice wouldn’t shake she responded. “Right. Okay. You’re right. Thank you.”
“You can thank me after we get our favorite idiot out of trouble.” Sam said. “Have you had any luck with the Boo-Merang?”
Jazz sighed. “It’s been spotty. The battery isn’t working right and I think some of the wires inside are fried. His Wail really did a number on it and the other trackers I had are completely toast.”
“Once I hear back from Tucker, if he hasn’t found anything, I can send him your way. He’ll probably be able to get it running in no time.”
“That’s wasting resources. We need as many eyes and ears out searching as we can get.” Jazz insisted, pressing her foot against the gas pedal and passing around an old grandma car that was going way too slow.
“It’ll do us no good if one of our searchers is running blind, Jazz.” Sam said, her voice taking on a hint of frustration. A muffled growl crackled over the line before the voice returned. “Look, I know you’ve been at this all night, but you need to rest. You’re no good to Danny if you get pancaked on the road or run yourself ragged.” Jazz glanced down at her arm, bruised and cut and sore down to the bones from where she’d landed on it when she’d fallen down the stairs. She hadn’t told the others she was hurt when she’d called in a code Red. If Sam was saying something about Jazz overworking herself without knowing she was hurt, then it was probably a good sign that she was even more in need of rest than they realized. Still Jazz wanted to protest. What was a busted up arm when Danny was…
The memory flashed behind her eyes. Green blood. The sound of bones snapping. The smell of ozone and the taste of copper on the back of her tongue. Jazz blinked hard.
“I’m fine, Sam.” Jazz insisted. “My adrenaline is still going strong. I can keep going.”
“Going where, Jazz?” Sam bit back. “You could be going in a completely wrong direction that could cost us time later. You need to rest and we need you to stay put. Just-“
Sam broke off and Jazz wondered for a moment if the call had cut out before the voice returned.
“Tuck is on the other line. I’ll add him to the call.” There was a pause and a static spike, then-
“- will let you know if we find anything. Yeah. Yeah! I gotta go, dude. Good luck.” The static spiked again and then Tucker’s voice returned. “Sorry, Frostbite was escorting me back.”
“Danny isn’t there.” Jazz stated, feeling a part of her heart crumble away as the words left her.
“No, but Frostbite is sending a group of his yeti guys to scour the Realms for him.” Tucker said. “We stopped by the castle on the way back, but he wasn’t there either.”
“Well, at least having more souls looking for him will up our chances of finding him sooner rather than later.” Sam said.
“Yeah, and you know how gossip spreads in the Ghost Zone.” Tucker added, his tone lilting up to try and give a more positive spin to his words. “Once some of the other ghosts find out, I’m sure they’ll want to help look too.”
“Maybe.” Sam didn’t sound quite as hopeful on that specific front. “If nothing else, some of them will be more likely to keep an eye out while they stick to their own things and let us or someone else know if he turns up anywhere.” Sam sighed and Jazz bit her lip to keep from losing the last threads of composure she was hanging onto.
Sam’s voice returned, steady and focused. “Okay, Tuck, you get on the road and meetup with Jazz. The Boo-Merang needs a tune up and you both need a rest before we get back to it. With some of the yeti’s helping, we can afford to take at least a little break. Okay?”
“Sounds good to me.” Tucker said. “Oh! I almost forgot. Frostbite gave me a few more vials of purified Ecto. I’ll give some to you, Jazz, once we meet up, so whoever finds him can give him a boost. You got the ones from the secret stash, right, Sam?”
“Shit, right. Yeah, I’ll check the floorboard when I drop by my parent’s place. Thanks for the reminder.”
“Jazz, where are you now?” Tucker asked.
“Just passed into Ohio about half an hour ago.”
“Perfect! I'm in Michigan, so it shouldn’t be too far of a drive. Go ahead and find a motel or something and shoot me the address. I’ll be there in a few hours.” Tucker said, the faint beeping of his phone buttons coming through the call as he typed something.
Knowing she was outnumbered and some logical part of her mind agreed with the plan, Jazz willed the tension out of her shoulders and sighed. “Okay. I’ll send the address as soon as I get checked in.”
“We will find him, Jazz.” Sam assured her. “We just have to make sure we don’t burn out between now and then, okay?”
“Yeah… yeah I know.”
“I’m pulling up to my folk’s place now. Talk to you guys later.” Sam said.
The trio said their goodbyes and hung up. Jazz made it another twelve miles before finding a small town in the middle of nowhere and finally pulling off the highway. Once she was checked into a room with two ratty, old twin beds, she sent Tucker the info and collapsed on one of the beds. Her arm twinged at the jostling, but Jazz couldn’t be bothered to care. Exhaustion was finally setting in and overriding her worry and fear. That realization alone made her eyes sting.
She wasn’t giving up on her brother.
She just had to sleep.
Not that that helped soothe the guilt. The only thing that would help that now was finding Danny. And the last shred of hope that he would be okay. As Jazz finally was drawn into rest, the echo of her brother's muffled screams clawed through her memories.