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Tim liked to know everything about everyone who attended any Wayne Enterprises sponsored gala. It had been something his parents had taught him to do, and something that had become more useful now as a co-ceo with Bruce. He stuck to publicly available news these days, accidently asking someone about their affair when he’d been going on three days without sleep and enough caffeine to kill a dog had been a major wake up call.
Still, Tim knew a lot about the guests at this year's Wayne Enterprises Christmas Gala. So while he wasn’t surprised to see the Mansons and their daughter entering the manor fashionably late, he was surprised to see Danny Fenton, recent orphan. Tim hadn’t even heard of the teens parents until he was gathering intel on the Masons a few weeks ago and came across an article in the Amity Park newspaper declaring that the two scientists had been killed in a home lab explosion, along with their daughter. Only their son, who wasn’t home at the time of the incident, had survived.
According to what Tim could pull up on the public databases, the Mansons were temporarily housing the boy while they looked for a foster who was willing to take a C student with a record of getting into fights. Said 15 year old looked like a kid who had lost his parents less than two months ago. He was dressed in an ill fitting suit, his tie not tied, and hadn’t bothered to remove the beanie on his head. There were deep bags under his eyes, and he let Sam Manson drag him over to the drink table with a listlessness that would have made Tim feel bad for him, if alarm bells weren’t currently ringing in his head.
The kid was an orphan, with black hair and blue eyes, and Bruce always got extra sappy around the holidays. They’d just gotten Damian to feel secure with his position in the family. They did NOT need Bruce getting adoption fever.
Tim quickly sent out a message in the kids only group chat.
Tim: SOS. We have adoption bait on the ballroom floor.
Jason: Shit. I’m on it. Where are they now?
Tim: Drink table. Name is Danny Fenton, recent orphan, came with the Mansons.
Dick: I’ll distract Bruce.
Jason: Good thinking. Get Cass to help you.
Tim: Shit, they’re heading towards the tables.
Dick: That’s where Bruce is!
…
Danny didn’t really want to be here, but he also didn’t want to be alone right now. Sam had been forced to be extra agreeable with her parents in order to convince them that keeping Danny was a good idea, and that they really didn’t need to let the system deal with him. Danny knew it wouldn’t last, but Sam had agreed to attend the Wayne Tech Christmas Gala and be polite to everyone, and Danny had been dragged along. He had to admit though, the manor was cool. Everything here had a history to it, not like Sam or Vlad’s places. But the flight out had been mentally exhausting and he was tired.
Sam dragged him over to the drink table and tried to give him some champagne. He didn’t want to mix alcohol with his ghost metabolism for the first time in a public space however, so he just got himself some unspecified cola and hoped there was caffeine in it.
“Everyone looks so stuck up,” Sam muttered in his ear as she dragged him toward a collection of tables and chairs near one wall. A handful of extravagantly dressed guests were already sitting there and talking loudly, like they wanted to be overheard.
They’d just started across the crowded dance floor, that wasn’t being used for its intended purpose, when a small teen Danny thought he should recognize stepped in their path.
“Hey, you're Sam Manson right?” the guy asked, his smile blinding and clearly fake.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m not sure who you are?” Sam shook his hand, doing her best to be polite as instructed, but Danny could feel tension in the hand he was still holding.
“Tim Drake-Wayne,” the teen said, and Danny realized where he knew him. This guy was one of the CEOs of Wayne Enterprises. He’d started the aerospace division that was going to be launching a program to send autonomous robots to map the magna tubes on the moon. Danny had been following it since the project was first announced.
“Danny Fenton,” Danny spluttered as Tim shook his hand. He had to let go of Sam’s hand to do it but he didn’t care. This was Tim fucking Drake-Wayne. He had so many questions!
“I’m a huge fan of your aerospace program,” he blurted. The false smile dropped from Tim’s face only to be quickly replaced with a genuine one.
“Oh yeah?” Tim grinned. “It was beyond time for WE to look into space exploration.”
“I know right!” Danny exclaimed. “I know there’s always like, Martian Manhunter and stuff, but there's stuff even they don’t know about space. And no one’s really thought to use autonomous robots on the moon before.”
“We’re actually using a robot designed for cave explorations on earth,” Tim explained.
“Oh, the ones Star Labs designed a few years ago?”
“Boys!” Sam exclaimed, drawing both of their attention. “As happy as I am that you’ve found someone to nerd out with, my feet are killing me in these shoes. Can we maybe continue this at a table?”
“Oh, sorry, yeah,” Danny said. “Do you mind?” he asked Tim. A strained expression crossed the guy’s face as his phone pinged in his pocket. He pulled it out and frowned down at it, his mouth twisted in displeasure. When he looked back up at them, Danny knew he was about to be blown off.
“Go on ahead,” he said, gesturing at the seating behind him. “I’ll meet back up with you in a minute, there’s just a matter that needs my attention first. Always some disaster that needs averting at these things,” he called over his shoulder as he rushed away.
“Man,” Danny moaned as Sam took his hand and continued leading him to where they’d been trying to go. “He’s not coming back is he?”
“Probably not,” Sam agreed. She sighed deeply as she sat down, bending down to tug her shoes off and dump them dramatically on another seat before tucking her feet up under herself. “But at least you got to talk to him. Who knows! Maybe he’ll remember that conversation in a few years when you graduate college and submit an application to Wayne Enterprises.”
“You know there’s no way I’m getting into college,” Danny groaned as he sat down across from her, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his fist.
“Sure you will,” Sam argued, it was a conversation they’d already had several times. “You’ll go to community college first if you can’t get your grades up by then. And hey! Without the portal, there haven’t been any ghost attacks to distract you!”
“Not helping,” Danny muttered, crossing his arms on the table and burying his face in them.
They sat with the silence between them for several minutes, Sam tapping away on her phone, while Danny was content to mope. After a while, Sam kicked his shin with her bare foot and he looked up.
“You feel like ending your mope session for a sec and seeing if there is anything vegan at the hors d'oeuvres table to me?” Sam gave him her best puppy dog face, which he easily caved to. Besides, he wasn’t the one wearing torture devices on his feet.
…
Jason had been watching the adoption bait since Tim had had to go prevent some kind of dessert disaster in the kitchens. The teen had just been sitting with his head in his arms at one of the tables for a while, and Jason was starting to think he’d just spend the whole gala like that, when his friend kicked him and said something that got him to stand up from the table.
Jason muttered an intricate curse and yanked his phone out of his pocket with enough force that he lost control of it and it slipped out of his hands.
“Shit,” he spat as he crouched down to inspect the damage. Someone else picked up his phone first though and Jason looked up, right into the icy blue eyes of the adoption bait.
“I think it’s busted, sorry man,” the kid, (what had Tim called him?) said as he stood and handed Jason his phone. It was indeed ‘busted’.
“God damnit,” Jason muttered, desperately pressing the power button, but the phone refused to resurrect. He knew he should have let Tim upgrade him with one of WE’s unreleased prototypes, or even just put a case on the stupid thing. But he’d bought this phone with his own money, from a job he’d gotten on his own, and he was a stubborn bastard.
“You good?” the kid asked.
“It’s fine,” Jason breathed as he shoved his now useless phone in his pocket. “My brother can probably get the data off it at least.”
“Oh, that’s good,” the kid shuffled on his feet like was about to leave and Jason panicked. He didn’t know where Bruce was, that’s why he'd been about to check his phone, so now he only knew that the adoption bait was here, and Bruce wasn’t and he probably needed to keep it that way.
“I’m Jason Wayne by the way,” he stuck out his hand and the kid shook it with a small laugh.
“I’m Danny Fenton. I just met your brother actually,” he explained.
“Oh? Which one?” Jason asked despite knowing full well.
“Tim. I really wanted to talk to him some more about the WE aerospace program, but I think I got blown off.” He looked like a kicked puppy, and fuck Jason really had to make sure Bruce didn’t meet this kid. He was not going to resist his urges.
“I think there was an emergency with the dessert actually,” Jason explained. Danny perked up then, tilting his head slightly like… well… like a puppy. They were so fucking screwed.
“Oh, I guess maybe he was actually serious about talking more later then,” Danny said.
“Probably,” Jason agreed. “Timmy really does love talking about robots and space shit.”
Danny laughed. “Is ‘space shit’ not your thing then?”
“Not really,” Jason admitted. Danny looked like he was about to respond, when he pulled his phone out of his pocket and grimaced at it.
“Sorry, my friend is texting me to hurry up with her hors d'oeuvres. You don’t happen to know if there are any vegan options do you?”
“I do actually,” Jason said, turning to make a quick scan of the room, relieved to find Bruce was neither at the refreshment tables nor on the way. He gave Danny a ‘follow me’ gesture. “Damian, one of my other brothers, is actually vegan, so we make sure every WE gala has vegan options.”
“Oh cool,” Danny said as he followed along. “I think Sam might actually kill me if I come back empty handed.
…
Cass was watching their new brother from the balcony overlooking the ballroom. She didn’t need to hear what he’d been talking about with Tim and Jason to know that they had both liked him. She could see it written clearly in their bodies, the way Tim had dropped his Gala Persona, the way Jason’s mission had clearly changed from ‘keep away from Bruce’ to ‘this one is mine, protect’. She knew there was only a matter of time before the others got on board. For now, she wanted to meet their new brother herself.
She didn’t like galas much, except for the dancing, but it was still too early in the night for that. But she made her way down the stairs and towards the hors d'oeuvres tables where Jason and Danny were talking animatedly. As she neared, she was able to hear what they were talking about. They were discussing some movie she hadn’t seen. It sounded like a scary one, though no movie she had seen had ever been all that scary.
“I know right!” Danny was saying. “Blood is not that color!”
“It was so clearly catsup,” Jason was laughing. He was having fun, Cass was happy for him. He looked up and noticed her, only because she wanted him to notice her.
“Hey Cass!” he greeted, setting down a plate he was holding to sign along with his words. “This is Danny. Danny, this is my sister, Cass.”
“Hi,” Danny said, his body said he was nervous and unsure.
“Having fun?” Cass asked, more as an attempt to put him at ease than because she didn’t know the answer.
“Yeah, actually,” he seemed surprised by his own answer. “Do you want to join us? I really need to get this food back to my friend now.” Cass shook her head.
“I go, help Tim,” she explained, but before she left she signed, ‘new brother, I tell Bruce,’ at Jason and watched with glee as all the color drained from his face. She bounded away before he could formulate a response.
…
Dick was so bored. He’d volunteered to distract Bruce, which had instead turned into following his dad around while all the single ladies, young and old, flirted with Brucie. Dick hated ‘Brucie’. They all hated ‘Brucie’. But it was for the good of that kid who definitely didn’t need to be adopted into this already insane family.
Dick was tracking the adoption bait with his eyes, glad that at least Jason had him distracted. He pretended to pay attention to something a woman was telling him as Cass gracefully bounded down the stairs and talked to Jason and Danny. Then she turned and started walking towards them, with a look in her eyes that Dick knew meant trouble.
“I am so sorry,” he blurted to the woman talking to him, interrupting whatever she had been saying. “It looks like my sister needs my help!” He broke away from the crowd around Bruce and tried to intercept Cass. Cass, being the stealthy assassin she was, saw him coming even before he’d started to move, and somehow found a path through the crowd that he didn’t. She slipped right past him and before he could turn around to chase her, a hand wrapped around his arm and he was pulled into a conversation with an older gentleman that he couldn’t find a way to escape.
…
His kids were up to something, but Bruce had yet to figure out what. First Dick had come to ‘distract’ him, Bruce knew he’d never hang around him at a Gala unless there was some kind of distraction mission. He hoped it was just Damian sneaking some new pet into the manor and not something worse. A new pet he could deal with, he didn’t want to know what else his kids could get up to.
Suddenly, Dick had rushed away from his side and Bruce watched as Cass expertly avoided him and ended up at his side.
‘New brother,’ Cass signed and pointed across the ballroom floor. Bruce looked and saw Jason walking towards the seating area with a young black haired teen. They were talking and laughing and looked to actually be having a good time.
‘What do you mean?’ Bruce signed, ignoring the indignant huff of the older woman who had been talking to him. Some people disliked being excluded, but if they wanted to know what was being said, Bruce figured they could always learn sign.
‘Orphan,’ Cass explained. Bruce looked back to the boy, and watched as they stopped near the kitchen doors. Tim came out, pushing a cart with an impressive winter themed cake. As he walked by a table with an intricate ice sculpture of a Christmas tree, a loud crack sounded. Fear gripped Bruce's heart as the sculpture started to fall.
…
It took Danny too long to realize something was wrong. As he and Jason waited for Tim to move past them with a dessert cart, one of the wheels was catching on a rug, Danny felt the wrongness nearby. He didn’t realize his core was sensing the instability in the ice sculpture next to him until moments before it cracked. He acted as quickly as he could, shoving Tim out of the way, sending the cart and tiered cake toppling into the crowd. He lunged for the sculpture, trying to get his hands on it before it cracked so he could secure it with his ice, but he was too slow and it split.
The larger half fell directly where Tim had been mere moments ago. The smaller section fell directly into Danny’s waiting hands, sending him to the ground with its sheer weight.
“Danny!” someone, maybe Jason, called.
Danny sat up, dazed. He might have hit his head on the floor.
“Daniel Fenton! What is wrong with you!” a woman screamed at him. Danny shook the stars from his eyes and looked up into the very red face of Mrs Manson. Her white gown was covered in blue frosting. Mr. Manson was right beside her, his suit equally coated.
“Huh?” Danny mumbled, confused.
“You just had to cause trouble! Knocking over that sculpture and covering us in cake!” she continued.
“Mom! Danny didn’t!” Sam shouted, pushing through the crowd to join them.
“Don’t you defend him!” Mrs. Mason scolded.
“He wouldn’t do something like this!” Sam yelled.
“Don’t you scream at me young lady! This boy is a menace and a bad influence and as soon as we get home I’ll let the system have him!”
Danny had heard enough. He scrambled to his feet, slipping on ice and frosting, he was covered in the sugary stuff as well. He turned and slammed into a man who’d come up behind him.
“Easy,” the man said as Danny hastily stepped away. He’d gotten icing all over the man’s very expensive looking suit. He looked up, and up, (this guy was huge) into the face of Bruce Wayne himself. Panic gripped Danny as she shoved past the host of the Gala and bolted for the doors.
…
Danny found a low wall somewhere on the manor grounds and plopped himself onto it. He’d be easy enough to find for when the Manson came looking for him, but he was out of the way enough that no one should stumble upon him accidentally and shout at him more.
Tears slipped down his face as he thought about what had just happened. He knew the Mansons would let the system have him eventually, but he’d been hoping he’d make it though Christmas at least. It’d only been last year that he’d started to appreciate the holiday, and now it was definitely ruined again. Now he was going to end up who-knows where, with people who probably wouldn’t care about him. He’d definitely not be able to go to college now, or get a job with WE. He knew his dream of being an astronaut was long dead, it’d died when he had. He’d never pass a physical with his fucked up vitals. But he’d hoped that he would at least be able to work in aerospace. But that would never happen without college.
Something landed on Danny's shoulders and he startled. He twisted around and found Bruce Wayne had draped a blanket around him.
“Oh shit,” Danny muttered fear shooting through him again. “I'm so sorry Mr. Wayne! I didn't mean to,” he babbled.
“Shh,” Bruce hushed gently, startling him into silence. “It's okay, Sweetheart. Here.” Before Danny could even process what the man had said, he'd thrust two metal mugs and a thermos into his hands. Then, more gracefully than Danny had expected for the man's size, he threw his legs over the wall and sat down next to Danny. Danny watched him warily out of the corner of his eye as he took one of the mugs back and set it on the snow covered wall. Then he opened the thermos and filled the mug Danny still held with a rich warm liquid. Danny held it up to his lips and found it was the most delicious hot cocoa he’d ever had.
“Huh?” Danny muttered, turning to look fully at the man. Bruce Wayne was still wearing his ruined suit underneath a warm coat. He smiled warmly at Danny before filling his own mug and taking a sip.
“I’m so sorry about the cake,” Danny blurted, unable to hold it in any longer.
“You saved Tim,” Bruce said simply.
“Huh?” Danny said dumbly.
“My son, Tim. You got him out of the way of the sculpture,” Bruce explained. “Didn’t you?”
“Oh, yeah,” Danny said, catching on. “The ice was weak, it was cracking.”
“And you saved him, so thank you very much.”
“Anyone would have,” Danny shrugged, taking another sip of the coco.
“I have found that not everyone would have actually,” Bruce said, a bitter note in his voice. “How did you know the ice was weak?”
“Dunno,” Danny lied.
“Hmm,” Bruce hummed. “What’s your name?” he asked after a moment of quiet.
“Oh! Sorry. It’s Danny, Danny Fenton,” he babbled.
“And what did Mrs. Manson mean when she said she was going to let the system have you?”
“Oh, uh. My… my parents… died. A little over a month ago. They were housing me for a trial period. Guess I fucked that up though.” Danny didn’t realize he was crying again until Bruce thrust something under his nose. Danny looked down and realized it was an actual cloth handkerchief, the fancy silk one from his suit pocket that matched his tie. He didn’t think you were actually supposed to use them, but the matching tie was already ruined with frosting. He took it and blew his nose.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
“I’m sorry, about your parents,” Bruce said. Danny shrugged.
“Not like it’s your fault.”
“Hmm. I lost my parents too, a long time ago now.”
“No offense Mr. Wayne, but I know.” That startled a laugh from the man.
“I suppose that makes sense,” he said. Danny snorted a laugh, before his thoughts soured again and he sighed.
“Are you alright?” Bruce asked.
“No,” Danny admitted.
“You know,” Bruce said slowly, like he was about to say something unexpected. “I saw you talking with my kids tonight.”
“Oh?” Danny asked, genuinely curious.
“Tim, and Jason, and Cass,” Bruce elaborated. “They liked you.”
“I guess,” Danny shrugged.
“I don’t think you realize what an accomplishment that is,” Bruce said, sitting up straighter. Danny followed him, pulling himself out of his hunched over position. “My children don’t trust easily, they don’t make small talk at galas and they don’t chew out my guests at said galas.”
“They what now?” Danny asked, alarmed.
“Oh yes,” Bruce said, his eyes gleaming with a mischief Danny would never have expected from the ditsy billionaire. “Those three gave the Mansons quite a dressing down when you left. I doubt they’ll be showing themselves at any public event for a long time.” Danny wanted to find that hilarious, he really did. The Mansons definitely deserved it, but… He still had to go home with them, endure a whole plane ride with them. He set his mug down on the wall and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” Bruce asked, his expression falling.
“I was just thinking about the flight home with them,” Danny explained. “They are going to be so mad.”
“Ah,” Bruce said. “You know,” he drawled, the same way he had a moment before. “I happen to be a registered foster parent.”
“What are you saying?” Danny said, unsure if he wanted to trust what this man was implying.
“You don’t have to go back with them if you don’t want to,” Bruce shrugged, like what he was offering wasn’t a huge deal. Like what he was suggesting wouldn’t solve every one of Danny’s problems. Not having to face the Mansons wrath, not getting dumped in the system, with no idea where he would end up and no hope for the future. Danny wasn’t an idiot, he knew all about Bruce Wayne's kids and how troubled they were. The man had never given up on any of them, never abandoned them back to the system. Danny would have a real chance at his dreams with him. Not only that, Bruce OWNED Wayne Enterprises, the very company Danny dreamed of working at.
“You’re joking,” Danny said flatly, unable to stop himself. There was no way this was happening. No way this man would offer to foster the fuck up, the one who had just ruined his gala and his suit. Mr Wayne wouldn’t want him ! The nobody from nowhere with shitty grades and an even shitter attitude. There was just no way.
“I’m not,” Bruce said, suddenly serious. “Danny, I would like to foster you,” he said, plainly and simply, with no room for confusion.
“No you don’t,” Danny said, all while internally he was kicking himself. He didn’t know why he was arguing. He should just take what he was being offered and stop being difficult.
“I do,” Bruce affirmed.
“But… but why?” Danny spluttered.
“Because you need a place to stay,” Bruce said, his voice so gentle Danny wanted to cry some more. “Because you saved, Tim. Because Jason, Cass, and Tim like you. Because you’re out here all alone a few days from Christmas and I know how hard the system can be. Will you let me foster you? If you don’t like it here I promise I will help you find another option.”
“You don’t actually need my permission,” Danny muttered, swiping at his nose, desperately holding back a third wave of tears.
“I know, but I would rather have it,” Bruce said.
“Wait, if I say no, you’re still going to do it, aren’t you?” Danny asked. Bruce made a face that at any other time Danny would find hilarious, he looked almost constipated.
“I don’t like how the Mansons treated you,” Bruce admitted. “And I’d rather not let you go back with them.”
“Oh,” Danny said dumbly, unsure how to argue with that. He didn’t want to go with them either. “You really mean it?” he asked, looking up at the man. He looked so different than he did on TV. There he was a ditsy billionaire that was always getting kidnapped by villains. Here, he looked alive, and calm, with a tension in his shoulders like Danny was something precious that he didn’t want to break.
“Yes, Sweetheart. I mean it,” he said, using that pet name again that Danny hadn’t really processed the first time. Danny couldn’t hold it back any longer. The tears spilled out and he choked on a sob. Bruce opened his arms and Danny fell into them. The man was so warm and gentle, and Danny realized he didn’t remember the last time his own father had hugged him, couldn’t remember a time he’d ever felt this safe.
“Shhh, it’s okay Sweetheart,” Bruce mumbled into his hair. “I’ve got you now, you’re okay.” And Danny thought he might actually be okay, that the universe was going to let him be okay this Christmas. It was everything he’d ever wanted.