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While I fail to focus after my night shift have a peek at another of my brain worms

Untitled, I am still waiting for that moment of divine inspiration.Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)Fandom: DP x DC

The only sounds in the Batcave were the bats chittering amongst themselves high above. Bruce rubbed his chin absently as he took in the information displayed on the large screens with narrowed eyes. Something wasn’t adding up. Somebody was lying.

No matter how many times he looked over the information, that was his conclusion. It nagged at him that he didn’t know what, if any, information he could use. He hated being so in the dark.

A silent notification in the corner of his screen alerted him to a call from the Watchtower. He took it and Superman’s face appeared in a smaller rectangle on the center of the screen. Bruce kept outwardly placid but from behind the cowl nobody would see the way his gaze instantly zeroed in on the massive black eye Superman had acquired, and the general strain around his unhurt eye and mouth. He was worn out.

“Phantom has been apprehended,” Superman said with a long sigh. It had clearly not been an easy fight.

“I’ll be there,” Batman said and ended the call. Maybe they’d finally get some real answers.

He stood and walked towards the zeta tube. Another call came in, this time on the comm in his cowl.

“Hood,” he greeted.

“Hey, old man. I’m at the location. You were right it’s absolutely crawling with the white suits and their weaponry is not like anything I’ve seen before.”

Bruce felt like a hand squeezed his heart. Hood out of anyone knew his weapons, if he didn’t know them they weren’t on the market. He absolutely hated asking any of his kids to walk into an unknown situation. Unfortunately he didn’t have any other options.

“Be careful, Hood.”

“Aww, is that worry I detect?”

“Just don’t take unnecessary risks,” Bruce cautioned.

“You wouldn’t have asked me if you didn’t think it was necessary, old man. Don’t worry, I’ll get you your intel.”

Bruce grunted. Jason was right. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t think it was important. Didn’t mean he had to like it, nor the fact that Red Hood’s criminal reputation made him perfect for breaking into a government building; even if Hood was seen the Justice League kept plausible deniability.

Everyone knew Red Hood was a wild card.

“Check in regularly with Oracle.”

He could practically feel the way Jason rolled his eyes at him.

“Not my first rodeo, B.”

With that the connection cut off. Bruce couldn’t help the bad feeling he had about everything.

He really hated this stage of an investigation.

Two months ago the US government contacted the Justice League about a problem. Several bases of a government agency named the GIW had been hit by a malicious creature they called Phantom. The attacks had been gaining in severity and frequency and their measures had so far failed to stop it.

Since then, a member of the Justice League had arrived too late to five such attacks. They’d stood no chance against Phantom, who’d then disappeared, living up to the name.

To their eyes Phantom was outwardly a humanoid, possibly a meta or alien. The GIW called him a ghost from a different dimension.

They had been at a loss of how exactly to contain such a powerful foe, who not only could go toe to toe with their heavy hitters like Superman, but also disappear by means unknown. This time they’d been prepared. They’d had various team configurations ready to go depending on who was available.

Something that seemed to have paid off, but Bruce did not like that Clark was injured. Because if Clark was injured…

A zeta tube ride later and he met Superman on the Watchtower. Something that hadn’t been apparent on the call was the sling Superman’s left arm was in. Another visible injury added to the swollen eye.

“Is everyone alright?” He had to ask.

“Nobody’s permanently hurt.” Clark hurried to assure as they started walking towards the interrogation room, but there was a but. Bruce kept his stare steady until Clark tiredly elaborated:“But nobody got out the fight unscathed. John won’t be walking for a while. J’onn is suffering from psychic backlash. Diana has some broken ribs and scrapes and you can see my own wounds. Everyone is tired, it was a long fight.”

Batman’s lips thinned. At least there had been no casualties.

Almost as if reading his mind. Superman added quietly.

“We got there while the base was still standing. Phantom made eye contact with me for a moment, before he unleashed this… sonic attack…” His face turned pained, as he looked for words that came halting. “It was a scream, I can’t describe it, it felt- it felt like I was dying. None of us could get close.”

Superman looked away.

“When it was over the base was gone, eradicated, like the others. There was just a large crater. Who knows how many people were still in there.”

Bruce set a hand on his friend’s shoulder. It was never easy to deal with casualties.

“The one good thing about it was that the scream seemed to drain quite a bit of energy from him.” Clark barked a laugh, short and hysterical. Bruce knew Clark would have rather faced Phantom at full power if it meant more people had lived.

“And still it was all we could do to subdue him. We barely won.”

They barely won. Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern and Martian Manhunter, and they barely won. The knowledge sat like a heavy ball in Bruce’s chest.

Now, maybe they could get intel that wasn’t most reluctantly handed over by a government agency, that didn’t even want to reveal what their alphabet soup name was an abbreviation of.“We had to turn off the ‘Ghost Shield’ to get Phantom inside the base, so we at least know it works, even if for some reason it doesn’t protect the GIW bases,” Superman remarked.

Bruce hnn’ed to show he’d heard. It was one more discrepancy among many.

Batman entered the observation room with Superman at his back. Wonder Woman was there and he quickly took in her unusually disheveled appearance, she looked tired and uncomfortable, shaken (but whole, safe). He nodded in greeting and she gave him a tight smile in return. He turned to the observation window and felt his breath stick in his throat.

Phantom was-

The glitchy footage they’d managed to get on earlier encounters couldn’t have prepared him. Bruce felt his jaw clench. Phantom looked young. There was still a hint of baby fat stubbornly clinging to his cheeks. He was short and wiry like Tim but maybe a bit younger than Jason, technically an adult, but to Bruce he still looked painfully young. The overall glowing and the slowly seeping green wound at his hairline didn’t take away just how human he looked.

Bruce looked at Phantom and saw a kid. Worse, supposedly a dead kid, a ghost, if the most basic of their intel was to be believed, which even that he wasn’t entirely sure of.

A weight was heavy on his shoulders. He had to remind himself that he had found evidence of Phantom throughout history and if a ghost was truly what he was, he was most likely a very old, very powerful spirit, for whom age didn’t matter. It would be a mistake to trust the youthful appearance.

He was chained to the chair both by wide cuffs at his wrists and ankles so he could only move very little. The cuffs were the best they had when it came to meta power suppression cuffs with some added ghost specific sigils courtesy of Zatanna’s research. She would have liked Constantine to look them over too as that sort of thing was more his area of expertise, but he’d been off on one of his extra-dimensional missions since long before this started and they hadn’t been able to contact him.

The cuffs kept Phantom here in any case and he didn’t look happy about it. His lips were a flat line and the thick black brows were drawn together over narrowed green eyes. His head was held high (stubbornness? Pride?), chin tilted in a way that showed off a bright green-purple line around his throat, which had it been red and on a human would have looked like rope burn-

Bruce looked to Diana and he suddenly understood part of her discomfort.

“He was about to use another sonic attack, I didn’t see any other way.” Her words were quiet, regretful, but she faced his gaze head on. Bruce nodded. She never would have used the lasso like that under normal circ*mstances. It was incredibly worrying how much it had taken to subdue him.

For a moment the three of them just stood there in silence, watching Phantom watch the door.

It was finally time for answers.

Bruce didn’t make any outward sign that he was about to move, but of course Clark caught on even before he’d moved, stepping aside letting Bruce take point. They went into the interrogation room, Diana staying back to observe and be ready with security measures, they didn’t know for sure would even work.

They entered the room and immediately sharp green eyes locked onto him. There was a quick glance towards Superman, but the eyes quickly focused back on Batman. There was a calculating sort of intelligence behind those eyes.

That was one question immediately answered, but it was one he could have inferred. It was very hard to believe the claim that this “ghost” was non-sentient, when he specifically targeted the bases of a specific government agency and nothing else. Though of course they could have had something that attracted the ghost, but nobody could look at Phantom and think non sentient.

Now the question was, why?

Bruce sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of the table from Phantom. Clark had a moment’s pause before he joined them. Bruce pulled out a tablet from underneath his cape and laid it carefully out on the table, turning it on. At this point most people in the room with the Batman would have started getting nervous, but evidently not Phantom. He was still just passively defiant, not to mention he hadn’t yet said a word.

“Phantom, is that your preferred manner of address?” Bruce decided to start out neutral.

There was a glitter of amusem*nt in green eyes and the barest uptick of his lips, but he remained silent. Bruce could do silence.

The silence stretched between them until Clark broke it.

“Why do you destroy those bases?”

Phantom glanced to Clark and his earnest question, then back to Bruce, barely raising an eyebrow, like as if to say “really, this the best you can do?” Bruce resisted the urge to sigh. Clark was usually a better foil for him at interrogations, but then most people didn’t choose total silence.

Bruce decided to be frank with him.

“We are trying to understand your motivation. That’s all.” He studied Phantom’s face which had settled into a stony glare. “But first I’d just like to know if it’s alright to call you Phantom and what your pronouns are? We have been using he/him based on your appearance but you might have another preference?”

The glare softened a bit and for a moment Bruce actually thought he’d lured a response out of him, but Phantom just looked away. Incidentally drawing attention to the line at his throat. A sudden thought occurred to him.

“Are you so hurt, that you’re unable to speak?”

Phantom slowly looked back at him. He seemed to actually be contemplating giving some sort of answer.

That’s when his comm clicked on barely audible.

“The GIW has been in contact,” Diana informed him quietly over the comms. Phantom stiffened across from him, his gaze narrowing like a cat - so they could add enhanced hearing to his powers. “They are requesting we hand over Phantom.”

Bruce looked straight at Phantom as he spoke, “They have no jurisdiction in space. I presume you declined?”

“Of course.”

Phantom’s face turned unreadable for a moment. His gaze went from him, to Superman and the opaque glass that hid the observation room. Finally he huffed.

“Phantom, he/him is fine.” His voice had an echoey quality to it.

It seemed they were finally going somewhere.

-

They were not going somewhere.

Even hours later Phantom kept up his silence. They’d held several breaks. Phantom had been offered food and water but had declined nonverbally.

They were going in circles, trying the same questions again and again. Prolonged silence didn’t help any either.

If only J’onn was an option, but he was already suffering from psychic backlash from trying to go into Phantom’s mind during the fight.

So far the only things Bruce could add to the certain facts were that Phantom was sentient, intelligent and didn’t like the GIW to the point that he would commit mass murder to take them down.

And Bruce would just really like to know why? Because with the kinds of powers he’d shown off he could have easily killed the members of the Justice League sent to apprehend him. He seemed to have no qualms about killing, yet he’d stayed his hands?

Bruce had hoped that meant Phantom considered them at least somewhat neutral in this conflict. But apparently not neutral enough to talk to.

Clark had tried and Diana had tried. Nothing helped.

Bruce was considering his options, when the door opened.

“B, I need to speak with you.” That was Tim, he looked pale. Something had happened. Bruce got up, Clark following. Bruce decidedly ignored the sudden curiosity from Phantom. They closed the door and walked down the hall. When Bruce felt they were far enough from Phantom he stopped.

“Red Robin, report.”

“We’ve lost contact with Hood.”

Bruce’s heart dropped cold into his stomach. No. It couldn’t be.

“When?”

“Two hours ago is when he last checked in. He’s since missed several check-ins.” Tim’s hands tightened into fists at his sides. “Could be he’s just not in a position to respond, or they have scramblers in the base.”

It was likely, in fact very likely that was the case with how secretive the GIW were being, but two hours were a long time to miss check-ins. Clark’s hand landed on his shoulder which he only now realized how tense was, but no, now was not the time to relax or calm down. He shrugged Clark’s hand off and stalked back down the hall.

The GIW were mum about any details. There was only one person who could tell them what Jason was facing in that building.

He burst into the interrogation room and slammed his hands on the table. That got Phantom’s attention his eyes widening before narrowing and his lips splitting in a snarl that showed off fangs, but Bruce sneered right back.

“We lost contact with an agent sent to infiltrate a GIW-base, you will tell me what you know about them, or so help me I will make you wish you stayed in that dimension you came from.”

“Batman, please, maybe you should step out-“ Clark began good hand hovering shy of Bruce, but he was interrupted by the bark of laughter coming from Phantom.

And then he laughed and laughed and laughed.

Bruce punched him. Clark pulled him back.

Phantom slowly turned his head back to look at them, working his jaw.

“There we have it after all. Your true colors: attacking a chained up captive.” He wiggled his fingers drawing attention to the wide thick cuffs dwarfing his wrists. His eyes held only cold judgment. “But don’t worry, Batman, your agent has nothing to fear from the GIW unless they are dead.”

Bruce couldn’t help the flinch and he felt Clark do the same. Something in the very air stilled then, making it hard to breathe.

“You,” Phantom began standing up, right out of the restraints as if they weren’t there, “are going to explain to me what that reaction means…“ He carefully put his hands down on the table and leaned forward in a way that made it very apparent he was holding himself back. He glared holes into Bruce’s skull with blazing green eyes. “Unless you want your agent back in pieces.”

-

Psssst. this is actually the beginning of the fic where this is from (CW: relatively graphic aftermath of vivisection)

So basically Phantom is public enemy number one, or at least top of the US government and GIW's sh*t list XD Huh, "Wanted: Dead or Alive", might actually be a pretty fun title, what do you guys think?

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 16

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 16:

Jason carefully kept his writing legible as he wrote down the heating instructions. Considering Ghost seemed to be living off granola bars he was not taking any chances.

There were signs Ghost had returned a few times. The bag and calibrator was gone of course, and the sandwiches were disappearing. It wasn’t good enough. Ghost needed more than sandwiches, it was better than living solely on granola bars, but it was not enough. He needed something more energy dense - hence the meat and vegetable stew and the mashed potatoes he’d made, packed in portions for easy reheating. But he had to make sure it was easy, he didn’t want to risk it being too bothersome and him not eating any.

Slowly, deliberately he put the pen down so he didn’t break it and laid his hands down flat on the kitchen island. Jason was in control, not the pits. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting the seconds…

…seven… eight…

Carefully he pushed the voice away that insisted he just lay a trap instead of all this tip-toeing around. It would be all too easy, Tim had found out how to short-circuit his powers. It hadn’t lasted more than an hour or two, but really there was no reason they couldn’t just attach some sort of device to him and repeat the small EMP charge every hour - it would be easy.

It would be horrible.

It was not how Jason wanted to go about it. f*cking Pits. f*cking intrusive thoughts. He hung his head taking deep breaths. He just wanted a little bit of peace of mind, was that too much to ask?

A half-choked gasp sounded behind him and he spun around wide-eyed. There, across the living room section of the open plan apartment was Ghost halfway through the far wall. His eyes were wide and looked as shocked as Jason felt.

Jason didn’t dare breathe as he slowly raised his empty hands. One wrong move and he could ruin everything. He swallowed dryly and ever so slowly he stepped to the side around the kitchen island and backwards, away from Ghost, deeper into the kitchen, cornering himself, leaving all exits free - even if Ghost didn’t technically need any. Ghost followed his movements warily only moving his head, his body completely frozen, still only halfway through the wall.

Jason’s back hit the cupboards. It was as far as he could remove himself. It was all he could do. The ball was in Ghost’s court.

Please don’t run.

Jason didn’t think he could handle that one more time.

Oo o oO

Danny kept his eyes locked on the currently helmet-less not ghost. His heart rabbited in his chest and his whole body felt coiled like a spring, torn between running or going forward. He was terrified, but he also yearned-

Danny had become complacent. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he cursed himself for it now. He’d just moved thoughtlessly through the wall and his ghost sense had only had time to warn him when his eyes could do just as well. The barely there mist had fizzled uselessly out of his mouth when he gasped.

Helmet moved carefully away from Danny, as far away as he could in the kitchen. His hands were raised as if in surrender. He looked as harmless as a six foot tank could, which to be fair, it wasn’t the size of the man, that scared Danny. No, it was the fact that his entire body screamed trap. Danny was not keen on a repeat of his powers being gone, and the risk, the knowledge of it, it threatened to tear apart his painstakingly assembled composure.

Red Helmet might have taken him away from the other vigilantes, but he was still one of them. Danny just could not let himself trust him and it hurt, deeper than his still f*cked up ribs. It hurt just to keep his core in a chokehold to stop it from calling to him. Never mind the near irresistable longing; Danny wanted so badly to go to him.

Danny couldn’t let himself.

Yet it was Helmet, not Danny, cornered right now. Caught in the act of something at the kitchen island. There was a small piece of paper on the island and Danny was curious.

And there were also still so many unanswered questions. How could he hear Danny but not respond? What was that thing about the anger he’d mentioned? Why had he given Danny back his backpack and the spectral calibrator? The calibrator in particular, because that one strictly speaking didn’t belong to Danny. Why was he stocking up food in an apartment he clearly didn’t live in? For Danny?

All were questions he couldn’t get answers to by running away.

Danny just had to keep his instincts on a tight leash.

Watching warily for any sudden movements, Danny slowly phased the rest of the way into the apartment. His beat up sneakers barely made a sound as he touched down on the wooden floors, but still Danny flinched.

Their eyes met and both held their breath.

Helmet looked away first. In fact he pointedly looked anywhere but at Danny now, seemed very intent on studying the counter now picking at non-existent dirt.

Somehow him not looking made it easier to walk closer and he carefully did. There was a whole kitchen island between them - that had to be enough for Danny’s paranoia.

He now stood where Helmet had stood when he came through the wall, he could pick up the paper.

It was heating instructions - for him.

His resolve crumbled and the paper crinkled as he clutched it like his life depended on it. Such a little detail. Not just the food left here, but instructions. When was the last time anyone had cared like this?

“Why-” His voice broke and tears prickled at his eyes. He cleared his throat and swallowed before trying again. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked from Danny to the note in his hand, seemed to mentally discard something, before admitting quietly, “I know what starving is like.”

Danny balked. “I eat.”

“I took a backpack full of protein bars off you.”

Danny grimaced. Just eating the sandwiches left for him here had been a vast improvement. So what if he didn’t eat well, he ate enough to survive. The fact that Danny could cling to existence through force of will was something he didn’t want to examine - his human half was still alive that had to be what mattered.

“So this anger thing,” Danny forcefully changed the subject like a bull bursting into a China shop, “tell me about it.”

Helmet tensed and that in turn made Danny tense. He might have overstepped. The moment was long and drawn out as Danny waited for the other shoe to drop. Slowly, Helmet let out a long sigh and forcefully relaxed his body. It didn’t put Danny entirely at ease, but it helped.

“There’s not much to tell,” he faked at nonchalance but there was something tightly leashed in his voice.

Danny didn’t buy it for one second. “Try again.”

There was a grimace and it looked almost like there was some sort of internal fight going on, until eventually he spoke.

“I got exposed to some nasty sh*t, ever since then I’ve had anger issues. I only realized once they were gone how pervasive they were.”

He looked away.

“I have hurt people - killed people - I thought they deserved it, but I’m not so sure anymore, not for all of them.” And there was pain there, in his voice, in his face, this was a hard thing to admit, not just to himself, but out loud to someone else.

Danny’s heart ached for him. The silence stretched between them and Danny prompted gently, hesitantly, because he didn’t understand this part himself: “And I make it better?”

“For about two days, give or take.” There was an affected casualness in the tone, but Danny noticed the way his hands clenched into tight fists. It had been about two weeks since Danny had last been in a room with the man. Two weeks since Danny had had any physical contact. He harshly clamped down the projection of longing before it could escape his grasp.

It was, Danny realized, no wonder that Helmet had chased him so vehemently. He could not only hear Danny’s call for him, but he had something of his own he struggled with. Something that Danny could apparently do something about, or rather his core song, if Danny was putting the pieces together right.

But Helmet wasn’t chasing now. It must have been two torturous weeks.

“You have found a way to nullify my powers, why not just use that?”

Helmet’s jaw clenched. “It’s not exactly nice.”

“Didn’t stop you two weeks ago.”

“I had nothing to do with that!” He snarled taking a step forward eyes glowing ectoplasmic green.

Danny took a step back at once cautious and intrigued. Not a ghost, but definitely something.

It looked like it took great effort, but he stepped back, plastered himself back against the cupboard and his eyes were blue again. Softly, he whispered “I only ever wanted answers.”

He wanted help. Danny’s breath caught. He was asking Danny for help, even if it wasn’t in those specific words. Danny looked down at the handwritten note in his hand. Helmet hadn’t planned for meeting today. He’d been just as shocked as Danny. He’d written him instructions with no guarantee Danny would ever help him, despite struggling with this anger.

Danny did not owe him anything, Danny was not beholden to anyone in this dimension, but he was asking for help.

Danny hesitantly stepped around the counter.

Mentally he countered each argument for why this was stupid.

He took a step forward. There was no trap. Danny chose to believe him when he said he didn’t want to use whatever device that had been on him.

Danny took another step forward, and step after step until he was right in front of him. Danny didn’t look up to see whatever expression may be on his face, it was easier like this standing face to chest. And it was a nice chest, wearing a red henley worn soft and fuzzy through countless washes. It was easy to take the last step into his space and lean his forehead forward to rest against him.

It was harder to let go of the tight ball he’d pulled his emotions into.

“Can I?” Helmet asked, arms hovering slightly away from him.

“Yeah,” Danny replied hoarsely, and then arms settled around him hesitantly, warm, human - not tight or trapping him, it was considerate but not what Danny needed. A wounded sound left his chest and he pressed closer. He clenched his eyes shut but still tears ran wet tracks down his cheeks as he finally gave in - let go.

His core was a cacophony of grief warring with happiness. Melancholy and joy twisting and churning neither one really winning. Danny was so tired and worn he couldn’t focus on what he should feel. All this and maybe he couldn’t even help him?

If he couldn’t get the happiness going what use was he?

But then the arms tightened around him and it was a proper hug. He was being held. There was a hand in his hair tugging him into the crook of Helmet’s neck, as he bent slightly over to surround him. Danny’s forehead against the crook of his neck, skin again skin. A warm body. A fast heartbeat in his ears.

He was not alone.

His core thrummed with the knowledge.

Danny lost time.

It was terrifying. It could have five minutes or an hour that they stood there for all Danny knew. He had been so lost in the warmth of human contact and the content song of his core.

A shiver of fear went up his spine and he tensed.

Last time he had fallen asleep. That, he could at least understand. He’d been extremely exhausted after everything that happened. But this was different. Danny didn’t even know if he would have noticed Helmet moving him - he hadn’t; they still stood in the exact same spot.

He made to draw away and for one heart-stopping fraction of a second, Danny thought Helmet wouldn’t let him go. But that was uncharitable, he had to give Helmet time to even realize what he was doing. Just cause Danny’s brain was running a mile a minute, and a second seemed like an eternity, didn’t mean it was to anyone else - and Helmet did let him slide out of his arms.Danny looked up, eyes just a bit wide. He was trying to stay calm, he was. He didn’t know how to interpret Helmet’s expression. His eyes met Danny’s, his brows were doing something, his mouth was a line downturned at the corners. His arms were raised, drawn back just slightly after Danny slipped away.

Danny took another step back.

Helmet didn’t move. Danny realized suddenly what the expression was; he looked sad.

Danny’s core pulsed painfully, and his breath stuttered. He wanted to go back to that embrace, he wanted to stay and forget everything else.

It was all he could do not to run, because those feelings were terrifying in and of themselves. He turned and he carefully walked to the far wall. He stopped there, clenched his trembling hands. His eyes trailed an uneven line on the white wallpaper.

This wasn’t just about him.

“The day after tomorrow,” he said, loud enough he was sure Helmet could hear him. Then he couldn’t hold back anymore and he threw himself through the wall. His heart raced in his chest all the way back to his lair.

It went against every cautious bone in his body to reveal he’d be somewhere at a specific time, even such a vague promise as the day after tomorrow. It was as much as he could get himself to do.

It wasn’t just about him.

-

Alright and that's probably it for the rapid updates, this part mostly needed edits to fit better with what actually ended up happening in the earlier parts and I hadn't written the ending, I wasn't sure I'd get the time today, but I did so, tadaa!

Things are going better! It's not all misery anymore.

Danny wasn't quite this terrified early in the story, but then he felt relatively safe in his ability to get out of situations. Having his powers knocked out, really brought up a boatload of trauma. It's just also really making him out of sorts to be that at odds with his core.

I hope it makes sense.

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 15

First |Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Danny shouldn’t have come back here. It was too risky. They had a way to disable his powers now, and Danny couldn’t let his mind dwell on that or he would freeze in terror, he had to focus on the present and not what happened the other night. At present he was looking up at the apartment where Red Helmet had taken him.

It could so easily be a trap.

But facts. Red Helmet had not stuffed him into a tiny electrified cage while he had the chance. He may of course have thought he had more time before Danny’s powers returned, but he hadn’t taken advantage. He’d stopped questioning when it was clear Danny wouldn’t talk. And- Danny’s throat closed and he fought a sob - he’d just sat there with him, invited him to lean on him and rested an arm around him.

Just thinking about it made him ache with longing. Two days alone, hiding and licking his wounds, had only highlighted his loneliness. He’d tried to keep busy, to work on the portal, but it was limited how much he could do with a broken wrist.He’d stolen a brace, something he at least hadn’t been discovered at. The feeling of being watched crawled all over his neck whenever he didn’t have his back to a wall.

Danny just hoped his wrist would grow together right. He couldn’t go anywhere to get the position of the bones checked. It wasn’t usually something he worried about. His healing was normally so fast and it’d always gone fine. But usually he was hurt in ghost form, not human form. Usually he had a better supply of ectoplasm. His ribs still hurt on deep inhales and it had been more than a month since he’d been crushed underneath Red Helmet on that rooftop.

Danny had no clue how long bones took to heal on normal humans.

He didn’t know if he should be worried - he was worried. If his wrist didn’t heal right, it would make it harder to work on the portal. Danny needed to finish the portal. For a moment he felt faint as the delay stretched out indefinitely in his mind’s eye, and he had to lean back against the wall behind him to steady himself.

His hands shook as he closed his eyes counting his breaths: in, hold and then out slowly. In again- It would be alright. It was just a minor setback. Hold- He would heal. He would heal fine. And out- He would finish the portal. He would go home.

He couldn’t dwell. He had to focus on the here and now.

Bricks were digging into his back. Flat pavement was under his shoes. Noise of cars driving through puddles, people walking, someone talking on the phone. City smells in his nose: smog, damp garbage, he wrinkled his nose; someone had pissed somewhere nearby and it was rank. The earlier rain clearly hadn’t been kind enough to wash it away.

Yeah, that was about all the grounding Danny could take. He blinked open his eyes. The overcast sky left the city gray and dim. Across the road, 5th floor, 7th window counted from the right, that was were Red Helmet had taken him.

Danny should not be here. It was objectively a terrible idea.

And there he was again, trembling, because this could be a trap (and Danny had had enough of traps). But also he was so f*cking tired of feeling like he was a pile of yarn, stacked too high in his arms so bits of him kept rolling off and unwinding and it was all he could do just to pick up the pieces and keep himself together, never mind actually taking a step.

He hated it.

What was he even doing here?

He didn’t owe Helmet for not trapping him, for not being terrible, for being warm and gentle. Danny grit his teeth. He should not feel guilty for leaving without a word when he discovered his powers were back.

But he did.

Helmet had mentioned something about anger, and that Danny quieted it. He could have been lying, but to what purpose? To capture Danny? He’d already had him helpless? And he’d seemed genuine, his eyes had seemed so tired and pained, and boy did Danny know tired and pained.

Danny’s longing stretched towards the apartment, before he harshly reeled it in and stuffed it back in his wayward core, ignoring the pain as he did so. That was another thing. He’d said he felt Danny’s call for him. Danny was torn about how to feel about that, and until he sorted out his feelings he had to keep a tight lock on what he might be projecting.

It also meant Helmet could sense him, possibly from further away than Danny’s ghost sense detected Helmet’s not-quite ghostliness. At least if he was projecting, which he wasn’t. Not right now, and he would keep that locked tight, even if it felt like a hand squeezing his core.

The one good thing about Gotham was that not a single person looked twice at some anxious, scruffy looking young man standing too long in one place. Danny picked restlessly at the straps on his brace.

He had to make a choice. He either had to go or leave. It was too dangerous to stay out here in the open. He took a step- and left. He cursed himself for his weakness all the way back to his lair.

He returned the next day to the same pointless, time wasting result.

The day after that he forced himself to not set his feet on the ground. Invisibly, he flew right up to the wall next to the window. The drapes were still drawn, on all the windows that had to belong to this apartment. His ghost sense didn’t activate, even this close, but that didn’t have to mean anything. Danny could only detect Helmet like that, the apartment could be crawling with the rest of the vigilantes.

It could still so easily be a trap, just waiting for him to stick his head through the wall.

He reminded himself that Helmet already had had his chance to capture him, he hadn’t take advantage. But that was the logical side of his brain and the paranoid one yelled so much louder. Danny was not a stranger to cruel tricks of pretend compassion.

Still, this was the third day he’d been back here, and he couldn’t go on like this. He needed to know. One way or another, he needed to know for his own peace of mind. For his core which wouldn’t f*cking quit it with the longing; single minded pile of useless instincts, is what it was.

It didn’t mean he had to be risky about it. He’d spent a while thinking about it and if it was a trap, they’d expect him to come through the outer wall. Danny had other options.

Mentally apologizing to whoever was the upstairs neighbor Danny slid through the wall of that apartment instead - thankfully it didn’t seem anyone was home. Danny lowered his shoulders in relief, and flew across the similar open floor plan, when he reached the kitchen, he halted in the air.

He took a deep steadying breath, refusing to dwell anymore. If something he happened it happened and he would deal with it - one way or another. Then he stuck his head through the floor.

It took a moment for him to orient himself, but most importantly he quickly discovered the apartment was empty. And as he looked over to the drape covered windows, nothing seemed to indicate a set trap. He let out the breath he’d been holding in a suddenly exhausted sigh, as the tension left him.

Something caught his eyes on the kitchen island. He tilted his head, not believing his eyes. That was his backpack! Just sitting there, innocent as if it belonged there and Danny hadn’t lost it and several days worth of food. Danny slid the rest of the way down through the ceiling and absently righted himself as he went. He dared not set down his feet on anything.

Carefully, he floated over to the backpack and inspected it, not daring to touch it. It was definitely his and not a well made copy. He ran his hands methodically through it intangibly searching for trackers and other technology that could have been hidden in its weave. There was nothing. For all intents and purposes that was his backpack, though of course his phone wasn’t in there anymore.

Impulsively, he grabbed it and hugged it to his chest. He closed his eyes as he tried to breathe steadily. He was not gonna cry. It was just a stupid old bag - but it was also one of the few things he’d had of home and he’d thought he would never see it again.

When he got himself back under control, he realized there was more on the table. His brain refused to comprehend what he was seeing because it just couldn’t be. Hesitantly he reached out and picked up the metal cylinder; the spectral calibrator. It just couldn’t be. Why would it be here? It had to be left on purpose, but why?

There was a yellow post-it note stuck to it and Danny rotated it until he could read, expecting an explanation of sorts, instead it just said in all-caps “FOOD IN THE FRIDGE.”

Bewildered Danny looked to the fridge. He’d honestly not even noticed its presence before, it had just been part of the kitchen backdrop, like the sink, the stove and the numerous cupboards.

He put the spectral calibrator in the backpack and put it on, just in case he needed to make a quick exit then floated over to the fridge. It looked like a regular fridge. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Gingerly he opened it, ready to go intangible at any moment. He let the door swing open, waiting, but nothing happened.

The fridge was well-stocked with bottles of water as well as pop and electrolyte drinks. There were also two shelves with shrink wrapped sandwiches right at the height of Danny’s head. They were labelled: chicken-bacon, ham-cheese, egg, tuna, falafel and dated with todays date. Helmet had been here today. Danny’s eyes were wide as he looked from the selection to the post-it he’d left on the table. It was an offer to take something, right?

But why? Why would he do that? Why would he leave Danny’s bag here and the calibrator? What game was this?

Hesitantly, he picked out a water bottle and turned it around in his hands. It was sealed and didn’t look like it had been tampered with. He picked out more random bottles. Everything seemed fine. The sandwiches could have been tampered with. They could be drugged. But that wouldn’t be a problem as long as he took the sandwiches with him. If he got knocked out for a few hours in his lair that didn’t matter.

It seemed unlikely they would poison him after all that trouble they’d gone through to capture him. So at most it would probably be something to put him to sleep.

Exhaustion hitting him suddenly, he realized he’d been using his powers too long. Letting gravity take him, he leaned against the kitchen island behind him. His vision swam a bit as he wiped sweat off his brow. That was the trouble with having a human body, gravity did actually exist for it. It felt a bit like he’d run a marathon.

He let out a slow breath, debating, then grabbed a bottle of cola - he recognized the Zesti brand. He could use the sugar.

The sugar worked fast. Eating something substantial would be better, but Danny was not eating anything here. He started packing sandwiches into his bag and a couple more of the Zesti bottles. And when he felt he shouldn’t burden it’s old seams anymore, he stopped.

Potentially drugged or not, eating something other than dry granola bars would be good.

He left and like a coward, he was glad Helmet hadn't actually been there; even if Danny still hadn't figured out what his deal was. That was future Danny's problem now.

-

Yeah I don't know what's with my strange productivity either, next part is also nearly done but then we'll run into a good deal of stuff that's just plain unwritten.

Also do you have any idea how hard it was to get Danny to go into that apartment? He's just so cursed skittish, this part wasn't meant to be this long - my notes for this was just basically "Danny goes back to the apartment to find his backpack, the calibrator and food left for him" - sigh.

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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 14

Let's just ignore I've updated this story three days in a row, @ailithnight asked me to make them cry, so we're giving the challenge a shot. This was written today and may very well have typos. Also it literally can't go on like this, I have work tomorrow.

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Jason had called ahead to let them know he was coming to the cave and then promptly turned off his comms again. He didn’t need to hear their questions. Not on comms. It was bad enough he had to face them.

He drove into the cave, his resolve the only thing keeping him from turning right around. Everyone but Bruce were in their civvies at this point. Jason shouldn’t be so surprised Bruce had called it a night. Not after ghost jumping off a roof in front of them.

Bruce did care, and Jason could tell himself that now without poison dripping into his ear about how it was only to keep his little soldiers at the top of their game. He was too exhausted to appreciate the missing put at the moment, he just wanted to go home and try to forget for a moment that Ghost had left again, but he had to do this.

Dick was sitting with an arm around Tim on the meeting table. Tim looked wrecked - good, he thought grimly and immediately felt guilty. He didn’t even have the pit to blame and yes Jason was angry about what had happened tonight, but really he was just as angry at himself. Jason might have tried to make them understand that Ghost needed help, but he’d done a poor job of it and they didn’t hear his grief for themselves.

They hadn’t felt Ghost’s terror in their electricity trap, his desperate fight to control his panic, they hadn’t felt it as he fell or the shock of pain as he landed. They hadn’t felt the panic reach a fever pitch and then utter silence.

They hadn’t been 50 yards away on another building, running, because they knew something terrible was about to happen. They weren’t the ones who thought they might have already been too late even as they caught him out of the air.

But Ghost had been alive. He’d been breathing. Panicked, but breathing, yet still utter silence.

Jason had been terrified.

And yes he was angry. He should have never let it get so far even in his desperation. They needed to stop chasing him. It wasn’t working.

It had nearly cost him his life.

He was a f*cking burglar, not a rogue! He wasn’t a murderer who would kill someone if he wasn’t stopped. They should have never used this level of force. They never would have used this level of force if it wasn’t for Jason and his erratic behavior. It was on Jason, not Tim who was a seventeen year old kid just trying to keep this cursed family together.

Damian was sitting at the meeting table a few seats away from where Tim and Dick were sitting on the table and for him to willingly be that close to Tim without any needle-ing commentary it was practically the equivalent of a hug.

Jason sighed, then pulled off his helmet and left it on the bike. He couldn’t hide behind the safety of its smooth surface, not for this. He walked over to the meeting table, knowing it would draw the rest over there.

Damian took one look at him, with that sharp judgment that was always in his eyes. “You let him get away.”Jason grit his teeth, refusing to rise to what was just an observation, but it had been a trying night and it was tempting to snap, that he didn’t let him do anything.

“His powers returned,” he said finally, carefully even-toned.

Tim looked up shortly at that and Dick squeezed his shoulder. Normally, Tim would have been on that detail like a hawk. How long did it last? Did the powers return gradually or all at once? Were there other adverse effects? And probably more questions Jason had not even thought to consider because that was just Tim. Now, Tim was silent.

“Jason?” Bruce asked carefully from somewhere to Jason’s left. Jason couldn’t look at him. Last time they’d been this close Jason had almost shot him.

Stephanie and Cass joined Tim and Dick to sit on the table, and Damian allowed Cass’ hand in his hair only because she could kick his ass six ways ’til Sunday. Duke was the last to join their loose circle standing to Jason’s right.

Jason didn’t have any excuses left. He even saw Alfred standing a ways further by the wall. Everyone was here. Babs was definitely still on comms with Bruce, even if the cowl was pulled back.

He tried to take a steadying breath without being too obvious about it. He probably failed, horribly.

“You have to leave Ghost to me.”

“Jay… you’ve not exactly…” Dick said carefully, the only one willing to even go near the fact that Jason should be the last person to go after Ghost. That he had been far from rational about the whole thing. That he was invested, personally more than they could even guess.

“I need-“ Jason looked to the ceiling, breathing for just a moment, before looking down again. “I need you to trust me on this, to let me handle it. What happened tonight… it cannot happen again.”

He clenched his hands, gathered every shred of courage, then looked to Bruce.

“Dad, please…”He ignored the gasps from his siblings, from shock or outrage that he of all people pulled this card, maybe both, it didn’t matter. Jason only had eyes for Bruce’s stunned face, for the way his jaw tightened and his eyes were moist under pained brows. He only had ears for the way Bruce’s voice broke partway as he said: “Of course, Jaylad.”

“Thank you,” Jason whispered, afraid his voice would fail him if he spoke any louder. He held Bruce’s gaze with his as he said it, because he deserved to know how much that meant to him. The urge to go over to Bruce was strong, to see if his dad would hug him if given the chance - he thought he would, but that, that would be too much, and the pit would be back in a couple of days.

Jason couldn’t handle any more tonight.

He gave Bruce a tight nod and turned to leave, avoiding looking at the reactions of his siblings.

Out the corner of his eyes as he left, he absently noted the purple backpack he’d stolen from Ghost sitting by the evidence board and that metal cylinder, Ghost had left behind the night Jason had met him, sitting on a shelf amongst other knickknacks.

In the back of his mind an idea was taking shape, but he'd only realize that the next day.

-

I made myself cry writing this, that happens very rarely. Jason has had a really bad day, but it was the father-son feelings that did me in.

I do not know when I will update next time, the chapter this part belongs to is like 2/3rds done now, but it's the middle I need to fill out. Oh well, I'm enjoying the writing bug while it lasts.

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 13

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Warning! This chapter is pretty rough (I think), please check the tags for triggers before reading if you have worries.Part 13:

The plan had gone off without a hitch. The Ghost had been noticeably distracted ever since Tim had asked Jason to sit their attempts to capture him out. He’d been very grateful though that it hadn’t taken long for the Ghost to appear again in Gotham’s industrial area. Jason only had so much patience.

Thanks to Babs’ newly upgraded cameras they’d had warning and time for everyone to get together.

Herding the Ghost to their trap had been a cinch with him only getting away from them a few times.

The trap was set in a dead-end alley near the power plant which had power lines running through the ground underneath. They were insulated so he wouldn’t sense them. They would only be a problem if he tried to phase through them.

The Ghost froze in place as the trap came to life with electricity every wall covered with the net. It wasn’t just electrified wire it was meant to create arcs of electricity. It needed to be visible, it needed to stop their quarry in place. Tim didn’t actually want to electrocute the guy if he could help it.

Dick jumped down to land beside Tim and Damian, his escrima sticks ready.

The Ghost swung around, taking everything in. Then he started to sink through the ground. It was the moment Tim had been waiting for. Everything hinged on this one theory being true; that he wasn’t just afraid of electricity, but that it would stop him from phasing through. He jumped back up with a startled yelp.

As he turned to face them mouth a thin pressed line, Tim couldn’t help the grin of a well-executed plan.

“Gotcha.”

Finally they could get to the bottom of this! But no! Tim’s instinct warned him before his brain even registered what was happening. Something about the Ghost’s posture had changed; he was looking up, tensing his body for something.

No!

Tim fumbled for the button, his last ditch attempt even as Dick and Damian sprung forward recognizing the look of someone about to fly. He’d tossed the EMP device earlier in the night and it had attached to the Ghost’s back. He pushed the button now.

But the Ghost was already flying having taken off like a rocket. There was a half second delay and Tim realized with horror that even if the electromagnetic pulse did anything the Ghost was in the air.

If it did anything he would fall.

Oo o oO

There was a pulse like a wave of static and then Danny was dropping.

Desperately confused he reached for his powers. Flight was as easy as breathing. Gravity was a mere suggestion. Or it should be! Nothing was happening and the roof below was coming rapidly up to meet him!

In reality it only lasted two seconds, but it felt like a terrifying eternity. His arms and legs moved uselessly; without his powers he had no control.

At the last moment he pushed his arms out. His right hand landed first, there was a sharp pain in his wrist before he curled up and rolled over his shoulder, landing on his back. Air punched out of his chest in a wheeze.

His eyes were wide staring sightlessly up at the clouds as he tried to suck air into his stunned body. He needed to get away before they found him. His core was an agitated scream in his chest. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t sink through the roof.

He rolled up onto his knees with a pained groan, holding his right wrist protectively against his chest. Terror gripped his throat in a vice grip as he pressed his left hand flat on the concrete. He had to focus. Breathe, if he could just take a moment without panicking, he was certain he’d make his powers work. His core felt normal in his chest, they hadn’t suppressed him, not like Vlad did that one time. Frustrated tears pricked his eyes, he clenched his eyes shut, forced himself to take a deep slow breath. If he just found his calm, if he just focused…

There was not even the suggestion of any give. The roof was solid.

Danny was solid.

There was a clatter and the high pitched whine of several grappling hooks reeling in. Danny’s head snapped up at the sound, eyes wide. He scrambled clumsily to his feet - his body felt so heavy, and his aching legs protested having to lift him.

They gathered in a half circle around him on their near silent feet - the bats, towering shadows to his blurred eyes. Blood rushed in his ears.

Danny took a step back, barred his teeth in a snarl.

“Don’t come closer,” he warned, the implied threat was a lie. He couldn’t do anything. He was powerless, weak as a kitten. It would be no trouble for them to capture him. But worse if they could neutralize his powers, they could hold him.Danny took another step back.

His breath came in short, punched out huffs. Cold sweat made his hair and clothes sticky. Shadows lined in harsh white light leaned over him. Agony- No! Danny shook his head, he was not there. He stepped back, the back of his knees hit a low railing.

He would never go back.

He turned and jumped.

Oo o oO

Tim didn’t hear any sounds but the blood rushing in his ears. He hadn’t expected the sheer panic the Ghost would have. None of them had. Not even the goggles had been able to obscure how terrified he was. His voice, the first time they’d ever heard him speak, had been thin and shaky, a hollow warning to not come closer. What was he so afraid of? They hadn’t come closer and yet-

Tim felt ill. What did he think they’d do to him, that he’d rather jump off the roof?!

Jason had been right. He needed help. And now-

The others stood at the edge of the roof. Nobody was moving. Did that mean it was too late? There was nothing to be done?

Numbly, Tim walked up to the edge and looked down. For a moment he saw nothing, but then he caught movement further away, a flash of red- relief hit Tim in a whooshed out breath that left him weak-kneed. Jason had caught him. Tim turned around and sunk down to sit back against the railing.

He hadn’t even known Jason was out here. He must have turned off his tracker. f*ck, he was so relieved Jason had been there.

He buried his head in his shaking hands. This was on him, his plan.

His earlier exhilarated satisfaction of a well-executed plan was crumbled and soured, heavy in the pit of his stomach like lead. His gut turned ominously. If he threw up, it would be deserved, he thought despondently.

Oo o oO

Jason went on the Bats’ comm channel only to bark at them not to follow him. With Ghost in his arms shaking and breathing too fast and too superficial, covered in the cold sweat of terror, Jason didn’t want to know what he would do if they did follow him.

He ran across the rooftops and used the grapple when necessary. The safehouse wasn’t too far away.

There was utter silence from that sense where Jason usually heard Ghost’s call to him. It should be a relief not to hear his yearning and be unable to do anything about it, but it just felt wrong. Like something was missing.

Jason held him closer.

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.” The words were useless, he knew that. Ghost had to be running from him for a reason even as he called for him - and Jason could understand why he’d been running from him, Jason was wrong inside, but Ghost was his only hope, and he couldn’t not chase. Right now the words were all he had, and he couldn’t let the others take him. They didn’t understand that he needed help.

Jason’s anger over what had happened tonight was only eclipsed by his worry. Ghost might be afraid of Jason too, but not like this, not silenced by terror.

Jason repeated his useless assurances as he ran. Ghost was much too light in his arms, too thin beneath the worn clothing. Irrational fear that he would turn to dust in his arms, seized him.

“You’re gonna be okay.” He said as much to reassure himself as Ghost.

“Please,” Ghost rasped voice unused.

Jason froze, stopping in place, hoping he’d say more. He didn’t. He pushed uselessly at Jason’s chest, still trying to escape. Jason’s heart broke. Frustrated tears pricked at his eyes.

“Please let me help you,” he pleaded.

Jason didn’t know if his words had gotten through to him or it was just exhaustion, but he stopped struggling. Cynically, Jason leaned towards exhaustion. At this point panic and fear had to be the only thing keeping him conscious at all.

They arrived at the safehouse finally.

It was one the others didn’t know about. Jason had a few of those as insurance. It was seemingly just a lived-in apartment, open floor plan living room and kitchen in one with artfully placed clutter, a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom. There were weapons and supplies hidden in the spaces between the real walls and the fake walls that appeared to be the apartment’s boundaries, but you’d only realize that if you checked another of the similar units in the building and noticed this one was smaller.

Jason landed them on the sill, and worked the window open. He didn’t bother with traps, because he didn’t use it often. Using it would have been a sure way to tip off the bats of its existence. No, this and other’s like it was for emergencies, and sometimes when he needed to stash a victim or witness somewhere safe temporarily. And even if someone should try to burgle the place, Jason had some decoy money there, a large flatscreen TV and some other easily taken electronics. It was unlikely they’d find the real supplies when there were easier money.

He maneuvered them both inside, set Ghost on the couch and closed the window and the drapes. He pulled off his helmet and set it carelessly on the coffee table - it rolled off to land on the floor. Ghost had already seen his face and hopefully, he’d respond better to a human than a mask.

Moving slowly, trying to make himself less threatening he kneeled down on the floor in front of where Ghost had curled up in the corner of the couch.

“Hey,” Jason said trying to sound calm, when inside he was everything but. He held out his hands in peace. “I’m not doing anything, I just want to talk.”

The emotionless goggles turned towards him. Jason got nothing from him, he only had the defensive body language to read him by.

“Please say something.”

Finally something happened, Ghost’s breath hitched and he reached up to push the goggles away. His eyes were red rimmed and blurry, and they closed as he rubbed at them. Still hiding his eyes he whispered so low Jason almost didn’t hear him, “-just want to go home.”

Jason lowered his hands and slumped forward. Letting him go would be the right thing to do, Jason could argue all the way till Sunday that it wasn’t safe for him right now, with his powers out of order, but that wasn’t why Jason couldn’t promise to let him go. He desperately needed answers. How did he make the pit silent? Was it just him or was there hope for Jason?

“I have questions,” he admitted.

Ghost slowly removed his hands. His eyes were blue and wary as he looked down at Jason. Jason held his eyes and he didn’t know what he saw in Jason as the moment stretched between them, like an elastic pulled to the point just before snapping.

Ghost looked away with a pained expression, and then, unfurling slowly, Jason felt that familiar yearning. Jason shook his head helplessly. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to help but didn’t know what to do.

“What do you need?” Jason asked.

Ghost looked back up momentarily and then away with a grimace. Shrinking in on himself.“Hey,” Jason said, frustration made him snappy, “I’m just trying to understand! It’s like you’re calling me, but I don’t know how to answer.”

That got Ghost’s attention, and his head snapped up holding his gaze intently.

“You can feel it?” He asked, and there’s this underlying desperate hope, shoved down by a voice desperately trying to hold steady.

“I can, and I just-“ He didn’t know what else to say, instead he reached out a hand to cup Ghost’s cheek. His eyes were wide and liquid and so blue before he clenched them shut and leaned into Jason’s touch with a small whimper. Jason didn’t dare breathe, as that small hum started, the one that was like a purr. Jason’s head was silent now, the underlying anger and frustration gone. In this moment he was just Jason.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until tears spilled over his cheeks. He ducked his head. It had been some very long weeks.

“How are you doing this?” He whispered, desperate to know.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Ghost answered hesitantly.

Jason looked up to meet his tired eyes, the dark bags underneath his eyes were so dark and stark in his thin face he looked bruised. Jason looked away. Shame curled in his gut for pushing him this far. For being helpless not to give chase. He would have pulled his hand back if Ghost hadn’t still been leaning into his touch.

Quietly, he admitted, “I have this rage inside of me, you quiet it.”

“Hmm,” Ghost hummed thoughtfully with his actual voice, as he mulled over Jason’s words. “I’m pretty useless right now without my powers, so I don’t know if it’s anything I can help with permanently.”

“Okay,” Jason said quietly. Trapped in this strange bubble of quiet, desperate to break it he asked, “Do you wanna talk about what happened on the rooftop?”

The purring came to a stuttering halt.

“That’s a no then,” Jason stated. Of course he didn’t want to talk about that, that should have gone without saying. Stupid. He sighed and stood up, drawing his hand back along with it.

“I’m just getting on the couch,” he assured when Ghost protested wordlessly. He sat down leaning heavily into the plush couch. After a moment he lifted his arm in invite. It took five long seconds before Ghost tucked himself underneath the arm. Jason squeezed him momentarily in a pitiful attempt at comfort, but it was all he could do.

It took a moment but the purr started up again. The feeling of contentment washed over him.

Jason didn’t know how long he sat there, letting Ghost’s purr soothe his frayed mind, but he sat there so long he started to feel the temptation to just close his eyes and sleep. That wasn’t helpful. Ghost himself had fallen asleep at some point, he discovered, as he shifted and found him blinking awake startled.

The purring stopped. Wary eyes watched him as he moved away.

“Easy,” Jason said lowly as if he actually was trying to soothe a feral cat, “I’m just gonna check to see what food options we have.”

He watched until Ghost leaned back into the couch. His eyes were mere slits watching Jason when he turned towards the kitchen.

Ghost needed to eat and making food was definitely more useful than falling asleep. He walked over to the cupboards, and couldn’t help but yawn as he did so. He opened the cupboards one by one, searching for something easy. A lot of the things here had technically expired and were mostly there for appearance sake. The dried herbs and spices, had probably lost most of their flavor, so actually cooking was out of the question, not to mention he didn’t have fresh ingredients here, but one of the canned soups would probably do fine.

He turned, tomato soup can in hand to ask if that was fine only to find the couch empty. Carefully he set the can down, so he wasn’t tempted to throw it. His hand clenched into a fist reflexively with no can to hold. He walked over to the living room side of the room, just to make sure he hadn’t just moved.

He wasn’t there.

He was gone.

Jason sighed and sat down heavily on the couch. Of course he was.

Nothing had been disturbed, not the drapes nor the windows. Everything was exactly as Jason had left it. His powers must have returned. Whatever Tim had done hadn’t been that long lasting, a couple of hours at most. He would have simply gone right through the wall.

Of course he had left as soon a he had a chance. Jason hadn’t given him reason to stay. He’d had his chance to talk and he’d wasted it just sitting and basking in his presence.

He leaned his forehead on his hands and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

He only had himself to blame.

-

So this happened... this is better/worse? At least they got to hug?

Anyways, I think I may go back to shorter tumblr parts now that these two chapters are done (if you're curious this is chapter 7 and 8 in my doc and that's what they'll be on Ao3). The last chapter really couldn't be split and this chapter only had terrible places to split it. Better to end on sad Jason.

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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 12

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 12:

Danny asked himself why he even bothered with this game of cat and mouse with the bats. They already knew he could go intangible, so what was the point?

It was another day, another chase; another case of Red Helmet not showing up. This was the third time, not counting when he’d sneaked back invisibly and intangibly in the morning for another roll of heavy duty cable after that first night Red Helmet hadn’t shown.

Was he alright? Was he hurt? Had he just given up?

His core cried out in sorrow lamenting the connection he couldn’t make. It didn’t matter that he never had a connection to begin with, now he felt not only lost, but abandoned.

It was stupid.

He didn’t want to do this anymore. Yet here he was, playing chase. He’d already lost two vigilantes tonight, but they kept popping up like wack-a-moles. His current tail was Sunshine, who was a rare participant, he’d only showed up recently but unlike the others he had powers, which made losing him in the traditional sense hard.

He should just leave, but what if Red Helmet showed?

Also it was habit. Habit was a comfort to his hurting core. Ghosts were creatures of habit and mischief. The chase even while it exhausted him was the only bit of play he had. It used to be, early in his stay in Gotham, that he actually had fun. He wasn’t sure at what point it became more habit than fun. It had probably been a gradual sneaking thing.

When Danny first arrived in this world through a training accident and a random portal, he hadn’t been worried. Sooner or later he would find a new natural portal to return to the Ghost Zone and from there he could find home. Natural portals happened all the time, they were like vents, opening and closing to relieve pressure and keep the balance between worlds.Danny had a knack for finding them. He didn’t know whether it was due to dying in a portal or because of his adventures with the Infi-map, but it was a skill he’d developed. So while a couple of years prior he would have been worried about going through a portal, not so much anymore.

He didn’t recognize the city he landed in, it was a regular metropolis with towering skyscrapers, chrome and glass. One building had a giant globe on top with a sign pronouncing it the Daily Planet. Flying about invisibly and people watching, he’d first come to the conclusion he had to be in the future. The technology was just way too advanced when it came to what every day people had in their pockets.

His sightseeing had taken him to a place called Star Labs - how could Danny not check it out with a name like that? And he was not disappointed. They seemed to be doing a little bit of everything; medical research, weapons, strange things he didn’t even know what was (and Danny knew strange things), but best of all spacecraft.

He’d been looking at a nanotech self-repairing coating for a future spacecraft when it happened; Alarms blared. The lights changed to red. Alert, Danny had remained still and invisible. He wasn’t necessarily the cause of the alarm, and making a sound now would only make him the cause of alarm for the suddenly nervous scientists in the room.

They all waited to see what would happen and eventually the doors opened admitting white armored security guards - the color immediately sent his hackles rising, the lights flickered momentarily but thankfully nobody noticed. All were focused on the security guards scanning the room with their anonymous visors.

Someone pointed towards the corner and guns were raised. The poor scientist standing there raised his hands frantically babbling, begging that he hadn’t done anything, please don’t shoot- The stream of words became just that to Danny, like water rushing in his ears.

They weren’t pointing at the scientist; they were pointing at Danny.

He moved, only just in time, flying up through the ceiling. The guns whirred behind him, with a high pitched charging sound and not like normal gunshots at all, no too much like-

Heat erupted in his side and he screamed. It took all his willpower to keep his invisibility, to keep his form. His head snapped around frantically, even in a new room he saw only armored white closing in. Place was crawling with them. A wail was building in his throat. No! He was in a city, he couldn’t! Panic fueled him as he kicked off the floor in a burst of speed, up up up. Floor after floor until the evening sky opened up above him in burning reds and oranges.

He hadn’t stopped, he’d sped away from the city.

At present Danny pressed himself against a wall, watching Sunshine reconvene with Purple from his hiding place above them. Seeing the two vigilantes were busy he sneaked carefully around the corner of the building to put the building between them. He kept in the shadow of a pipe as he started jogging.

Thinking about Star Labs he couldn’t help but touch a hand to where the energy blast had hit him - he’d scarred. It hadn’t been ectoplasm based, Danny would have known, but if they could hurt him, they could find a way to capture him, to keep him captured.

That was why Danny had tried to limit the usage of his powers in Gotham. If he could pass for just a regular thief, maybe someone with cloaking tech, If they guessed what he was they would be one step closer to- No! He couldn’t think about that, he needed to keep his head in the game.

The midget sprung down in front of him, and Danny changed directions. How many of them were out here today? And with how many what were the odds Helmet wasn’t out here somewhere? Danny was tiring. But maybe there was hope?

His thoughts drifted again as he ran.

When Danny had taken a moment to catch his breath after his escape from Star Labs, he’d started to look for a portal. He’d had enough of this future, but he hadn’t found a single one. He’d flown around trying to sense one until he’d been forced to set down in a forested area, transforming from the exhaustion.

He hadn’t understood then why he was so tired.

Strangely breathless he’d pulled out his phone and called Tucker. If he could trust one person to always be near his technology it was Tucker - The number couldn’t be reached.Next he’d tried Sam, then Jazz, then Mom and Dad, none of the numbers could be reached.

Terrified of what could have happened to them, Danny had started walking. He needed somewhere he could access technology. He’d discovered the burn on his side had carried over to his human form, because his shirt stuck to the blistering mess. He’d been in too much shock to notice the pain. But as he walked it became more and more apparent. He didn’t have anything in his backpack to dress the wound.

As evening encroached, Danny had come upon a road. He picked right for his direction, walking in the leafy underbrush on the side of the road. The road was long and straight and relatively well travelled even as evening moved on into twilight, which was already pretty dark due to the shadows of trees. The now fewer cars had blinding headlights and Danny was careful to look away from them - not just for his poor eyes’ sake, but he really didn’t need to cause an accident, he never knew when his eyes would decide to reflect light like some sort of cryptid roadside ghoul.

Danny was exhausted - too exhausted, but he tried to ignore the tumble of worried thoughts that wanted to be released from where he’d chained them up. He was considering just finding a soft spot to lie down for a nap, but some niggle of fear he couldn’t explain told him he might just be more exhausted if he stopped. No, walking on was safer. He needed to get to a place where there were people, and he didn’t risk getting mauled by wildlife because he was tired.

A truck stopped just ahead of him after a crescent moon had risen in the sky. Danny felt more full dead than half dead as he walked up to the truck. The window was rolled down.

“My wife’ll kill me for picking up hitchhikers so near Gotham if you’re a serial killler,” a rough female voice spoke from the cabin.

Danny blinked. What? He managed to say, “uh?”

The driver leaned over far enough that she could open the door and actually see him. She had short cropped curly hair, a nose that looked like it had been broken before and judging dark eyes that swept up and down Danny’s arguably pitiful state of being.

“Well, are you?” She enunciated.

“What?”“A serial killer?”Danny held his arms out helplessly. “I’m not, but if I was, that would also be my response, ma’am.”

She huffed a short bark of laughter. “So you got a bit o’ sass. Jump in then. Heading to Gotham?”

“Sure.” Danny replied, and climbed up. He’d never heard about a town by that name, but it was the second time the lady had mentioned it and who really knew where he was except somewhere in the US. He buckled in under watchful eyes, and in moments they were off.

“So you from somewhere in the Midwest?”

“Illinois, ma’am.” It was a safe enough topic, and Danny was so relieved to sink into soft seats and relax. His backpack was safely between his knees, even if it didn’t hold much of value and the cabin warm but not too warm.

“What brings you all the way out to Jersey?”

“Would you believe me-“ Danny covered his mouth as he was a assaulted by a yawn. “Sorry. If I said I don’t know?”

She glanced away from the road towards Danny momentarily. “Wouldn’t be the strangest thing.”

She reached into a cooler box and pulled out a sweating can that she handed to him. “Here, you’re pale as a ghost.”He accepted the can with shaking hands. Only his heart had jumped at the comparison, not his whole body, he reassured himself. He frowned thoughtfully as he examined the can. Zesti Cola the cursive lettering declared.

“Is this a local brand?” Danny asked thoughtlessly as he opened it up.

He realized his mistake as soon as it was out of his mouth at the incredulous look he got. “It’s only the biggest brand worldwide.”

Danny coughed. “Guess I must have grown up more sheltered than I thought.”

He’d take the pitying look over any suspicion. He took a sip and it tasted a bit sweeter than the cola he was used to. His body welcomed the sugar and the liquids. He was usually more resilient than this.

After finishing the pop, and putting the can in the trash bag as directed it wasn’t long until he fell asleep.

He woke a bit disoriented when they stopped at a gas station an unknown amount of time later. And as memories flooded in he immediately knew what had been wrong with him. There had been absolutely no ambient ectoplasm in the air. He’d burned up his own rapidly using his powers for hours and healing a wound to boot. The difference was blatantly obvious now that he was in an area with ectoplasm in the air. He didn’t feel near as tired, his muscles and the wound ached less.

He stepped out of the truck along with the driver, and pulled his backpack back on. He looked up to the dark cityscape towering above them - so Gotham was definitely not a town.

“Hey, kid.”

Danny resisted the instinctual urge to protest that he was nineteen, so not a kid, but that was personal information he didn’t want to give.

“Yeah?”She walked around the truck to face him. “Gotham is a very good city to disappear in, but it’s also a good city to disappear in, you feel me? So take care?”

Danny swallowed at the ominous warning, but he was confident he could protect himself. He nodded. “Thanks for the ride, ma’am.”

Danny snapped out of the memory as a staff came down for his head. Jumping back he saw the midget had been joined by criss-cross bandolier guy.

He changed direction again and mused, that at this rate he’d go through all the vigilantes of Gotham tonight; but there was only one he wanted to see. He wasn’t showing and that was good, he reminded himself.

Zesti Cola and Gotham had been the clues Danny needed to know he was not in the future but in an entirely different reality. The following days he’d explored the limits of Gotham’s ambient ectoplasm. He’d quickly realized that to leave Gotham would be extremely dangerous to him. He might survive on human food, but any use of his powers would leave him weak and vulnerable, and as someone who didn’t even have an identity in this world - nobody would notice if he did disappear.

Clockwork didn’t answer him. He couldn’t rely on anyone finding him here, they could become just as stuck as him. The only real solution was to build a portal.

Danny was too late to divert from his path when he realized he was running towards a dead end, brick walls on two sides and concrete on the last, going up several stories. It was just as good a sign as any that it was time to end the chase. His stupid core could mourn Red Helmet’s absence just as easily from his hide-out as it could from here.

He was prepared to turn intangible and go through the wall straight ahead.

It was a relief the chase would be over. Weariness dragged at him more so now that he knew it would soon be over. Just three more long strides and the next would take him through the wall.

One. Two-

Electricity flared bright blue and flickering, dancing dangerously across the wall. Danny froze in place, in a way only possible due to his powers, as he instantly cancelled his momentum. Momentum that would have otherwise- No, he couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus, no panic, he could panic later, when he was free. He spun around. Electricity sparked all around him turning into a blur of dancing lightning. He dug his nails in to the palms of his hands. The path he’d come from was blocked by the bats. Blue Bird with his terrifying sticks, had joined the other two.

The world wavered around him. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was so loud in his ears. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood in his mouth. It was not over yet.

He sunk into the ground, but pain, terrible and familiar lanced up through his legs and he jumped up with a yelp. He stared down at the asphalt beneath his feet in terrified realization; there were live power lines running through the ground.

Danny gritted his teeth and faced his pursuers grimly.

Bandoliers gave Danny a triumphant smile. “Gotcha.”

-

There you have it, Tim's plan to capture Danny, helped along by Danny being distracted. Next time we will see if it works ;)

I don't know that I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways. Now that it's written and out at least I can hope to get something I'm more satisfied with for the ao3 version.

You can subscribe to the story by subscribing to themasterlist

Oh that is such a mean place to stop.

Why must you hurt me this way?

To be entirely honest because the next tempting place to end a chapter is worse and I needed to be close enough so that I can't stop there next time and actually finally get to Jason and Danny having a talk.

Aka this is me being kind XD

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 12

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 12:

Danny asked himself why he even bothered with this game of cat and mouse with the bats. They already knew he could go intangible, so what was the point?

It was another day, another chase; another case of Red Helmet not showing up. This was the third time, not counting when he’d sneaked back invisibly and intangibly in the morning for another roll of heavy duty cable after that first night Red Helmet hadn’t shown.

Was he alright? Was he hurt? Had he just given up?

His core cried out in sorrow lamenting the connection he couldn’t make. It didn’t matter that he never had a connection to begin with, now he felt not only lost, but abandoned.

It was stupid.

He didn’t want to do this anymore. Yet here he was, playing chase. He’d already lost two vigilantes tonight, but they kept popping up like wack-a-moles. His current tail was Sunshine, who was a rare participant, he’d only showed up recently but unlike the others he had powers, which made losing him in the traditional sense hard.

He should just leave, but what if Red Helmet showed?

Also it was habit. Habit was a comfort to his hurting core. Ghosts were creatures of habit and mischief. The chase even while it exhausted him was the only bit of play he had. It used to be, early in his stay in Gotham, that he actually had fun. He wasn’t sure at what point it became more habit than fun. It had probably been a gradual sneaking thing.

When Danny first arrived in this world through a training accident and a random portal, he hadn’t been worried. Sooner or later he would find a new natural portal to return to the Ghost Zone and from there he could find home. Natural portals happened all the time, they were like vents, opening and closing to relieve pressure and keep the balance between worlds.Danny had a knack for finding them. He didn’t know whether it was due to dying in a portal or because of his adventures with the Infi-map, but it was a skill he’d developed. So while a couple of years prior he would have been worried about going through a portal, not so much anymore.

He didn’t recognize the city he landed in, it was a regular metropolis with towering skyscrapers, chrome and glass. One building had a giant globe on top with a sign pronouncing it the Daily Planet. Flying about invisibly and people watching, he’d first come to the conclusion he had to be in the future. The technology was just way too advanced when it came to what every day people had in their pockets.

His sightseeing had taken him to a place called Star Labs - how could Danny not check it out with a name like that? And he was not disappointed. They seemed to be doing a little bit of everything; medical research, weapons, strange things he didn’t even know what was (and Danny knew strange things), but best of all spacecraft.

He’d been looking at a nanotech self-repairing coating for a future spacecraft when it happened; Alarms blared. The lights changed to red. Alert, Danny had remained still and invisible. He wasn’t necessarily the cause of the alarm, and making a sound now would only make him the cause of alarm for the suddenly nervous scientists in the room.

They all waited to see what would happen and eventually the doors opened admitting white armored security guards - the color immediately sent his hackles rising, the lights flickered momentarily but thankfully nobody noticed. All were focused on the security guards scanning the room with their anonymous visors.

Someone pointed towards the corner and guns were raised. The poor scientist standing there raised his hands frantically babbling, begging that he hadn’t done anything, please don’t shoot- The stream of words became just that to Danny, like water rushing in his ears.

They weren’t pointing at the scientist; they were pointing at Danny.

He moved, only just in time, flying up through the ceiling. The guns whirred behind him, with a high pitched charging sound and not like normal gunshots at all, no too much like-

Heat erupted in his side and he screamed. It took all his willpower to keep his invisibility, to keep his form. His head snapped around frantically, even in a new room he saw only armored white closing in. Place was crawling with them. A wail was building in his throat. No! He was in a city, he couldn’t! Panic fueled him as he kicked off the floor in a burst of speed, up up up. Floor after floor until the evening sky opened up above him in burning reds and oranges.

He hadn’t stopped, he’d sped away from the city.

At present Danny pressed himself against a wall, watching Sunshine reconvene with Purple from his hiding place above them. Seeing the two vigilantes were busy he sneaked carefully around the corner of the building to put the building between them. He kept in the shadow of a pipe as he started jogging.

Thinking about Star Labs he couldn’t help but touch a hand to where the energy blast had hit him - he’d scarred. It hadn’t been ectoplasm based, Danny would have known, but if they could hurt him, they could find a way to capture him, to keep him captured.

That was why Danny had tried to limit the usage of his powers in Gotham. If he could pass for just a regular thief, maybe someone with cloaking tech, If they guessed what he was they would be one step closer to- No! He couldn’t think about that, he needed to keep his head in the game.

The midget sprung down in front of him, and Danny changed directions. How many of them were out here today? And with how many what were the odds Helmet wasn’t out here somewhere? Danny was tiring. But maybe there was hope?

His thoughts drifted again as he ran.

When Danny had taken a moment to catch his breath after his escape from Star Labs, he’d started to look for a portal. He’d had enough of this future, but he hadn’t found a single one. He’d flown around trying to sense one until he’d been forced to set down in a forested area, transforming from the exhaustion.

He hadn’t understood then why he was so tired.

Strangely breathless he’d pulled out his phone and called Tucker. If he could trust one person to always be near his technology it was Tucker - The number couldn’t be reached.Next he’d tried Sam, then Jazz, then Mom and Dad, none of the numbers could be reached.

Terrified of what could have happened to them, Danny had started walking. He needed somewhere he could access technology. He’d discovered the burn on his side had carried over to his human form, because his shirt stuck to the blistering mess. He’d been in too much shock to notice the pain. But as he walked it became more and more apparent. He didn’t have anything in his backpack to dress the wound.

As evening encroached, Danny had come upon a road. He picked right for his direction, walking in the leafy underbrush on the side of the road. The road was long and straight and relatively well travelled even as evening moved on into twilight, which was already pretty dark due to the shadows of trees. The now fewer cars had blinding headlights and Danny was careful to look away from them - not just for his poor eyes’ sake, but he really didn’t need to cause an accident, he never knew when his eyes would decide to reflect light like some sort of cryptid roadside ghoul.

Danny was exhausted - too exhausted, but he tried to ignore the tumble of worried thoughts that wanted to be released from where he’d chained them up. He was considering just finding a soft spot to lie down for a nap, but some niggle of fear he couldn’t explain told him he might just be more exhausted if he stopped. No, walking on was safer. He needed to get to a place where there were people, and he didn’t risk getting mauled by wildlife because he was tired.

A truck stopped just ahead of him after a crescent moon had risen in the sky. Danny felt more full dead than half dead as he walked up to the truck. The window was rolled down.

“My wife’ll kill me for picking up hitchhikers so near Gotham if you’re a serial killler,” a rough female voice spoke from the cabin.

Danny blinked. What? He managed to say, “uh?”

The driver leaned over far enough that she could open the door and actually see him. She had short cropped curly hair, a nose that looked like it had been broken before and judging dark eyes that swept up and down Danny’s arguably pitiful state of being.

“Well, are you?” She enunciated.

“What?”“A serial killer?”Danny held his arms out helplessly. “I’m not, but if I was, that would also be my response, ma’am.”

She huffed a short bark of laughter. “So you got a bit o’ sass. Jump in then. Heading to Gotham?”

“Sure.” Danny replied, and climbed up. He’d never heard about a town by that name, but it was the second time the lady had mentioned it and who really knew where he was except somewhere in the US. He buckled in under watchful eyes, and in moments they were off.

“So you from somewhere in the Midwest?”

“Illinois, ma’am.” It was a safe enough topic, and Danny was so relieved to sink into soft seats and relax. His backpack was safely between his knees, even if it didn’t hold much of value and the cabin warm but not too warm.

“What brings you all the way out to Jersey?”

“Would you believe me-“ Danny covered his mouth as he was a assaulted by a yawn. “Sorry. If I said I don’t know?”

She glanced away from the road towards Danny momentarily. “Wouldn’t be the strangest thing.”

She reached into a cooler box and pulled out a sweating can that she handed to him. “Here, you’re pale as a ghost.”He accepted the can with shaking hands. Only his heart had jumped at the comparison, not his whole body, he reassured himself. He frowned thoughtfully as he examined the can. Zesti Cola the cursive lettering declared.

“Is this a local brand?” Danny asked thoughtlessly as he opened it up.

He realized his mistake as soon as it was out of his mouth at the incredulous look he got. “It’s only the biggest brand worldwide.”

Danny coughed. “Guess I must have grown up more sheltered than I thought.”

He’d take the pitying look over any suspicion. He took a sip and it tasted a bit sweeter than the cola he was used to. His body welcomed the sugar and the liquids. He was usually more resilient than this.

After finishing the pop, and putting the can in the trash bag as directed it wasn’t long until he fell asleep.

He woke a bit disoriented when they stopped at a gas station an unknown amount of time later. And as memories flooded in he immediately knew what had been wrong with him. There had been absolutely no ambient ectoplasm in the air. He’d burned up his own rapidly using his powers for hours and healing a wound to boot. The difference was blatantly obvious now that he was in an area with ectoplasm in the air. He didn’t feel near as tired, his muscles and the wound ached less.

He stepped out of the truck along with the driver, and pulled his backpack back on. He looked up to the dark cityscape towering above them - so Gotham was definitely not a town.

“Hey, kid.”

Danny resisted the instinctual urge to protest that he was nineteen, so not a kid, but that was personal information he didn’t want to give.

“Yeah?”She walked around the truck to face him. “Gotham is a very good city to disappear in, but it’s also a good city to disappear in, you feel me? So take care?”

Danny swallowed at the ominous warning, but he was confident he could protect himself. He nodded. “Thanks for the ride, ma’am.”

Danny snapped out of the memory as a staff came down for his head. Jumping back he saw the midget had been joined by criss-cross bandolier guy.

He changed direction again and mused, that at this rate he’d go through all the vigilantes of Gotham tonight; but there was only one he wanted to see. He wasn’t showing and that was good, he reminded himself.

Zesti Cola and Gotham had been the clues Danny needed to know he was not in the future but in an entirely different reality. The following days he’d explored the limits of Gotham’s ambient ectoplasm. He’d quickly realized that to leave Gotham would be extremely dangerous to him. He might survive on human food, but any use of his powers would leave him weak and vulnerable, and as someone who didn’t even have an identity in this world - nobody would notice if he did disappear.

Clockwork didn’t answer him. He couldn’t rely on anyone finding him here, they could become just as stuck as him. The only real solution was to build a portal.

Danny was too late to divert from his path when he realized he was running towards a dead end, brick walls on two sides and concrete on the last, going up several stories. It was just as good a sign as any that it was time to end the chase. His stupid core could mourn Red Helmet’s absence just as easily from his hide-out as it could from here.

He was prepared to turn intangible and go through the wall straight ahead.

It was a relief the chase would be over. Weariness dragged at him more so now that he knew it would soon be over. Just three more long strides and the next would take him through the wall.

One. Two-

Electricity flared bright blue and flickering, dancing dangerously across the wall. Danny froze in place, in a way only possible due to his powers, as he instantly cancelled his momentum. Momentum that would have otherwise- No, he couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus, no panic, he could panic later, when he was free. He spun around. Electricity sparked all around him turning into a blur of dancing lightning. He dug his nails in to the palms of his hands. The path he’d come from was blocked by the bats. Blue Bird with his terrifying sticks, had joined the other two.

The world wavered around him. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was so loud in his ears. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood in his mouth. It was not over yet.

He sunk into the ground, but pain, terrible and familiar lanced up through his legs and he jumped up with a yelp. He stared down at the asphalt beneath his feet in terrified realization; there were live power lines running through the ground.

Danny gritted his teeth and faced his pursuers grimly.

Bandoliers gave Danny a triumphant smile. “Gotcha.”

-

There you have it, Tim's plan to capture Danny, helped along by Danny being distracted. Next time we will see if it works ;)

I don't know that I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways. Now that it's written and out at least I can hope to get something I'm more satisfied with for the ao3 version.

You can subscribe to the story by subscribing to themasterlist

Dead on MAYn Day 1 - still untitled.

Prompts used: Dinner interrupted by a rogue/gang fight, courting rituals.

This thing keeps growing so I figured I should just post the first part. It will be continued eventually it’s kinda going places I didn’t expect. I am also using the flickering prompt, but it doesn’t appear in this first part.

Danny dug into his burger with gusto. It was not Nasty Burger, but it was greasy and cheesy and juicy and definitely hit the spot after a whole day walking about Gotham taking in the supernatural sights.

Sam was entirely less impressed with the vegetarian option and had set it down with a grimace and was now just picking at her fries. Tucker had taken it as a personal win for the Meat Team™ and was lording it over her with his eyebrows - thankfully he was too busy eating to actually say anything, which Danny was very glad of. You could only hear the same arguments so many times. At least age and maturity had assured they didn’t end their friendship over it.

“So,” Sam said, “What’s next after this?”

Danny finished chewing his mouthful, before speaking. “I’m not sure, I figured just go back to the hotel for a bit, chill until nightfall? Gotham’s court won’t be in session until then.”

“Seconded. My feet hurt,” Tucker chimed in.

“Maybe if you didn’t spend all your day sitting in front of a screen all day-”

And they were at it again… Danny tuned them out with the practice of years of being on the sideline, humming in agreement when prompted. He loved his friends dearly, but arguing was a part of their love language that he didn’t feel like participating in.

He let his eyes wander around the small diner, and found himself frowning as a group of men hurried inside.

If Danny had been less used to his ghost sense warning him of trouble, maybe he would have reacted in time - or at all. As it was he found himself frozen in shock when he saw the guns - regular human guns, not ecto-guns, ecto-guns he knew how to react to.

It was strange to realize that nobody had ever pointed a normal gun at him before and someone was pointing a gun at him right now - of course it would be in Gotham he got that experience.

“Hey you, stand up slowly and get over here. Hands where I can see them.”

Oh.

Danny’s brain suddenly caught up to the events.

A group of five armed men had entered the diner waving guns. Three kept their eyes on the door and windows as if they expected someone to follow them. One was moving behind the counter towards the back, maybe looking for the waitress who had skedaddled as soon as the armed men entered and the last one had his gun trained on Danny, who of all people in the diner he’d figured was the best option for a hostage.

Danny resisted the urge to laugh.

Slowly he did as bidden, raising his hands and standing up.

On the surface he wasn’t an unreasonable choice. He was short and lean, if he was completely honest he looked like a stiff wind could blow him over. Sam in contrast looked like trouble and Tucker had grown up annoyingly tall, and if Gotham police was like most places it was probably wiser to pick a white boy as hostage anyways. The rest of the people in the diner were two heavy set construction workers and a lady with arms broader than Danny’s thighs, like damn. 

So yeah, Danny was apparently the best choice. 

Regretfully, he left his dinner to cool on its plate as he took carefully measured steps towards the… what? Mobster? Gang person? 

A part of him was wondering how much a gunshot could hurt him. Would it hurt him? In human form probably, as long as he was tangible. Would it kill him the rest of the way? He wasn’t particularly keen to find out.

His eyes flickered to the other armed men when one of them hissed at the guy at the door. “Do you see him?”

Danny considered doing something for about three steps, but he wasn’t experienced enough with real guns and fighting humans that he thought he could risk it. He’d also prefer to fly under the radar while he was here. He was on vacation, not here to mess with anyone.

There was a familiar feeling in his throat, wanting to be let go. His head snapped towards the kitchen. What! That couldn’t be right?

The man grabbed him and put the gun to his head just as a crash sounded from the kitchen and the wisp of cold breath escaped his mouth. Everyone turned towards the noise. The man who held him tightened his hold and pushed the gun so hard against his head he had to tilt it. 

Something black came flying out the door and the jumpy gunmen shot at it, but with their attention on the object (a pan, it was just a pan) they didn’t notice the man who followed behind. He was fast, not much more than a red brown blur, shooting the furthest man in the arm so he dropped the gun and then coming in close, punching the first man and kicked the next in the belly. He moved so smoothly, effortlessly. 

Danny forgot to breathe. Because that there was the source of his ghost sense. Because that there was also a human.

Another halfa.

Here in Gotham of all places! 

His heart gave a hard thump in his chest and he gasped, remembered breathing was a thing he sorta needed as a human. He still couldn’t take his eyes off the other halfa. Now there was someone who knew how to fight. His core hummed pleasurably in his chest. The other halfa had taken care of those goons in less than ten seconds. The fourth one was probably dealt with in the kitchen. And the fifth-

Danny was abruptly reminded of how the fifth had a gun to his head, as he annoyingly poked him with that barrel and pulled him backwards towards the door.

“Not another step or he gets it!”

Danny grimaced. He finds another halfa and he’s a f*cking hostage? Stellar first impression, right there! Someone please shoot him- or wait, considering the situation that was probably not the wisest turn of phrase. 

“How about you let the civilian go, and I won’t break your kneecaps.” The voice was menacing though clearly modulated and there was a delightful, almost cheerful undertone.

Now that he was standing still, Danny could better appreciate him. He was a big man, probably near a head taller than Danny and so much wider. Death had clearly not stopped him from putting on muscle. Normally Danny might have been jealous, but honestly he was too busy appreciating the other halfa. 

He was wearing a red helmet, faceless except for a pair of glaring eyes and he had a large bat symbol across his chest. This last bit should put Danny off. There were very good reasons Danny didn’t want to catch any attention here. He couldn’t think of them right now. But there were… reasons… yes… and thighs walking towards him-

“I swear I will shoot!”

Oh for f*ck’s sake! There were too many people involved. Danny promptly stepped down on his captor’s instep, ducked and twisted out of his hold. 

Red Hood, because that was his name, Danny suddenly remembered, promptly shot the gun out of the man’s hold and took him down with a punch and a crunching kick to the right knee. 

sh*t, Danny was jealous, not of the broken kneecap of course, but he also wanted to throw down. He could show the other halfa what he could do, make friends, or more? Would it be too forward to gift him one of his moon rocks?

It probably was too forward? This was the first halfa he met who wasn’t a fruit loop or related to him. At least he hoped he wasn’t a fruit loop.

“Are you alright?”

Danny shook himself out of his thoughts to find that he’d been approached.

Now that he was up close Danny could really appreciate how those arms looked strong enough to bend him in half and- Danny’s gaze stopped at his waist. Was he actually wearing a leather corset? It did great things for his-

“That was either brave or stupid.”

The words had Danny’s eyes snapping back up to the glaring helmet. Danny was frozen. How was he supposed to talk to him? His mind reeled. Do something! Anything!

“How’s this for stupid?” Danny blurted and promptly punched him in the gut with a good deal of ghostly strength. Red Hood bent over with a pained oof.

f*ck! Danny’s brain screamed at him in despair. He could not believe he’d done that! Glancing around he couldn’t find Sam or Tucker so he quickly ran out the diner. 

He was grabbing for his phone in his pocket while running, when he was pulled into an alley. He was so wound up he nearly threw another punch, but then he realized it was just Sam and Tucker.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Danny!” They spoke in eerie unison. Tucker snorted, but Sam continued, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Danny shook his head, realizing he must look a little dazed. He felt a little dazed. He didn’t even feel like taking the obvious bait.

“I punched Red Hood,” he admitted.

“What!” There they went again I unison, almost as if they practiced it.

“Do you think he’d like a moon rock?”

The looks they sent him then, they were indescribable. Absently he padded his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t grown a second head.

“Are you sick, Danny? Was there something in the food?” Sam put her hand on his forehead checking his temperature, even as she looked at Tucker, “What are the chances there’d be blood blossoms in a random burger?”

“Extremely unlikely, more likely something new, never seen Danny react like this.”

Danny grumpily pushed Sam’s hand away. “The food was fine. I’m fine.”

They gave him twin dubious looks.

“Look, let’s just go back to the hotel room. I just need a little rest and I’ll be fine.”

-

Jason gasped in pain to the sound of laughter in his comms. What the Hell was in that guy’s food that he could throw such a punch?

“What did he did the little guy do, Hood? Kick you in the jewels?” Dick managed to ask through laughter.

They didn’t have visuals, small mercies, but Oracle the traitor had let on to the former hostage’s scrappy stature in the run down of the situation.

“He did not.” Jason growled and turned off the comms, done listening to those idiots. sh*t, f*ck. Definitely a meta, that had been super strength. Keeping one hand over his pained abdomen he walked over to kick the goon who had decided to crawl for his gun in Red Hood’s apparent distraction.

“Don’t even think about it, I am not in the mood for it,” he growled and the goon whimpered.

When he finished securing the goons, of course the meta was long gone. Jason sighed in annoyance. Just his luck.

Flickering Stars

Dead on MAYn day 5Prompt: Soulmates

Jason had very carefully not asked if Phantom would join the Titan mission, when Tim had asked for his assistance, but judging by Tim’s knowing look Jason had given in too easily. He pretended at grumpy as he waved Tim off, even Tim being obnoxiously knowing couldn’t quell the excitement building in his chest at getting to see Phantom again.Probably. He would probably see Phantom again. He hadn’t confirmed with Tim, that Phantom would be there, he wasn’t a permanent fixture on the Teen Titans. But with the look Tim had sent him it was pretty likely the case.

Checking to make sure Tim had left - he had - Jason finally gave into the urge and groaned loudly. He rubbed his face.

f*ck, he was so gone it was stupid.

This wasn’t part of the plan. Phantom had never been part of the plan. Jason had never imagined- He sighed. It wasn’t like he was unused to his plans for his life going awry, but this particular dream was one he’d clung to longer than most. He covered the mark on the inside of his left arm just below his elbow with his hand, feeling the slightly raised skin: his soul mark.

For as long as he could remember he’d had that little grouping of stars slightly raised and pink. His mom, his real mom, Catherine, who’d raised him and not just supplied DNA had told him what it meant with a bittersweet smile. That he was one of the lucky ones. That out there was a soulmate for him, his match in every way. Someone who would love him more than anyone.

As he’d grown, he learned it wasn’t as simple as that. Not all soul matches were even romantic in nature. Not all soulmates ever met each other. The world was vast and sometimes even if they did meet, they just had a scant few years together before one died. But those that did meet they mattered, always.

The idea of his soulmate out there had kept him going even as his mom slipped deeper into the drugs (she loved him, but not enough to stay with him). Even as he was on the streets fending for himself, that little grouping of stars gave him hope that some day, he would find love and belonging.

For a short while, he’d thought he had that even without meeting his soulmate. He had Bruce and Alfred, sometimes Dick. He had Robin. For a while he’d thought he might get to be the one to offer his soulmate something other than himself, but that life, that dream had been violently cut short (and maybe Bruce loved him, but not enough to avenge him).When Jason had become lucid again after his return, he’d found his mark faded to gray; his soulmate died. He’d cried for the soulmate he never met, and death of the dream he’d had of finding them. He’d been too late, just another tally in the statistics for those who never found each other.

After that he didn’t look at the mark for weeks. It wasn’t hard, he was busy training. He had a plan to enact, a goal. He wore long sleeved shirts. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of it after a shower as bright and healthy pink as ever he near had a heart attack.

He checked the mark regularly after that. Sometimes it was grey, sometimes pink. Was his soulmate sick? Teetering at the edge of proper dying every day? Or had Jason’s death messed with their connection? Had Jason’s soul not come back whole with him and now he could only get a spotty signal through like broken radio.

Privately Jason thought it was the last one. He had come back wrong, Bruce’s personal nightmare. Death had changed him irrevocably. It made sense his soulmate didn’t match him as well anymore.

Still, part of him had hoped to one day meet them regardless. But he didn’t look for them, there was a fear clutching his heart when he thought of it - what if they rejected him? The very thought ached. Being rejected by his soulmate… He couldn’t think of anything more damning. Jason had enough raw wounds over rejection. He didn’t need to add more.

These days he and Bruce were only just barely civil. Any time some criminal was found dead, Jason could feel the old bat’s eyes linger on him the next time they saw each other. It was enough to make Jason wonder why he even bothered trying to make nice, he was much better at blowing things up.

Still, anytime he considered just saying screw it all, he was reminded by someone else that they cared. Be it Alfred or the multitude of siblings and not-quite siblings. Sometimes the old Bat himself even had a moment.

It was enough to keep him in the fold and sometimes at his most cynical he wondered if that was the point, to keep him just close enough to keep him on the narrow, but never truly part of the family.

Tim asking for assistance on a Titan’s matter some months ago however, that had been a clear sign of how far the two of them had come. Even Jason’s paranoia couldn’t argue with it. Tim would have never let Jason come anywhere near his friends if he didn’t trust Jason.

Jason had done the necessary brotherly grumping and bartering, but both he and Tim had known he couldn’t say no.

And then he’d met Phantom.

Tim’s friend Phantom, a ghost, who had more death jokes than even Jason. Who, unlike Tim’s other friends wan’t the least bit wary of him. Phantom whose hair shimmered like starlight and whose sharp smile set Jason’s heart pounding in excited anticipation - for what he hadn’t known, but he hadn’t been disappointed when things finally went down on the second mission.

Phantom was a heavy hitter, and something about the power he exuded set every nerve of Jason’s alight with energy and he’d never he’d never felt so alive. He’d been breathless and weak with the bewildering desire for Phantom to manhandle him.

Jason couldn’t even really recall what the mission had been about precisely. He knew he’d done his part, but the memory paled next to Phantom.

It would have been fine if this was all a matter of sexual attraction, but Jason had fallen hard and fast for Phantom. He didn’t even know or care if Phantom, as a ghost, corporeal though he seemed, had any interest in anything sexual. He just wanted to spend time with him and get to know him better, figure out if Phantom was as interested in getting to know Jason as he was Phantom.

Some things pointed towards that. Like after that second mission and Phantom had found him in the hallway before he’d left. Jason could still feel his cool gloved fingers tracing the scar down his cheek, and that cute little frown. He vividly remembered the way his green eyes had flicked down to Jason’s lips and lingered there for more than a casual glance. Jason had felt so certain Phantom would kiss him - until Tim had interrupted.

That had been two months ago.

Jason hadn’t had a reason, an excuse, to see Phantom since. They didn’t run in the same circles, Phantom was Tim’s friend, not Jason’s. And when it came down to it Jason didn’t even know what he wanted from Phantom.

His nails dug painfully into his skin. He gasped and released his hand from where it covered the mark - it was grey currently. He hadn’t noticed when he’d started gripping his arm instead of just holding it.

He had a soulmate, he could be sick and here Jason was falling in love with someone else. Who knew when the mark would turn to grey permanently and Jason would have missed his chance.

Not that Jason had anything to offer his soulmate but a load of baggage.

It still felt like betrayal.

Oo o oO

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Phantom said with a huff as he pushed Jason to sit down on the cot. “I’m a ghost, I could have just gone intangible.”

Jason bit back a groan when Phantom grabbed too close to the wound below his shredded jacket. Phantom quickly moved his hand further down on his left arm as he peered at the bloody mess of his shoulder area.

“Looks worse than it is,” Jason assured leaning his head back against the wall of the infirmary. He watched Phantom, eyes half lidded behind his domino. He felt a bit woozy from the blood loss and it was nice sitting down, but he was not about to concede the argument. “I’ve seen you take a hit before when you were distracted.”Phantom scowled at him. “Okay yes, but I’m durable. More so than you.” The scowl turned worried as his gaze slid back to the mess.

He picked gingerly at the soaked fabric for a moment before huffing through his nose.

“This might feel weird.”Then he pulled Jason’s jacket off by pulling it through him. A shiver went up Jason’s spine at the cold liquid feeling. Jason blinked owlishly at his jacket suddenly hanging from Phantom’s hand. His cheeks warmed as his thoughts suddenly turned in a very different direction due to Phantom’s apparent ease at divesting him of his clothing.

He looked away and coughed to get his voice under control.

“Didn’t know you could do that.”Phantom grinned at him.

“I don’t advertise my abilities, sometimes they surprise even myself.”Jason couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He watched Phantom as he poked cool hands at the wound. The bleeding had mostly stopped. The jacket and his suit had truly taken the brunt of it, but it had had time to seep through everything.

“Gonna have to take the suit off too, at least by your arm. How much is it connected to? I can’t make it just part intangible, so it it’s a one piece suit, that’s not a good option.”“If you can just help me peel it off my upper body that’s fine.” He found the zipper and pulled it down to his belt. He wore a tank top underneath. Things would be perfectly decent. No reason to get excited. Not that blood loss for conducive to that sort of excitement anyways.

Phantom took care when he gently pulled the enforced fabrice over his shoulder, but it still started bleeding fresh when places where the fabric had dried to his wounds were removed. The other arm was easier.

Phantom grimaced at the sight. Jason had to agree. There were several gashes. Phantom flew away and returned with a bottle of saline and a cloth. The cloth he held against Jason’s arm as he started to rinse the wounds to absorb the worst of the liquid - still, it dribbled onto the cot. The gashes didn’t look too deep, thankfully.

When Phantom was satisfied the wounds were clean and without fabric threads or dirt, he fetched gauze swabs to dab it dry. He was so intent on his work, Jason could just relax and watch. His shoulder ached fiercely, but every cool touch was like a balm. After Phantom had set the third well-made stitch, Jason had to know:

“Why would a ghost learn to do stitches?”Phantom looked up at him through his lashes and sent him an impish smile.

“Because he forgets to dodge.”

Jason shook his head, couldn’t help but smile at the reference to their earlier conversation, even as the idea of Phantom knowing because he’d had to stitch himself up settled uneasy in his stomach.

Phantom continued his work, until finally he covered the area with a large bandage. He smoothed it over the area and Jason sighed in relief as the cold from his hands seeped through numbing the pain.

Phantom smiled at him. “Good?”“Yeah.” He watched through half-lidded eyes as Phantom considered him, then came to a decision. He left his right hand on the bandage, then moved the other to cup Jason’s face. Jason’s breath hitched.

“Good?” Phantom asked again.“Yeah,” Jason whispered hoarsely. His skin tingled where Phantom touched his cheek. He rubbed his thumb gently over the bruise on Jason’s cheekbone, and he could feel the cold seep in just there reducing the swelling.

He slid his hand down to a not yet healed nick on his throat, it was a few days old, rested it there for a moment before moving on, smoothing the hand over his right shoulder. There was a bruise from last week, it wasn’t swollen anymore just a bit achy if touched. His hand lingered on scars as if he could soothe old hurts. He reached his hand, took it and lifted it up to inspect. He brushed his thumb over Jason’s rough knuckles and then the calluses on his palm, soft and careful.

All the while Jason felt like he had forgotten how to breathe. He didn’t get soft. He didn’t get careful or gentle. Yet here Phantom was being exactly that.

Phantom moved to the other hand, the left one, then his wrist. Too late Jason realized where his gaze would go next and he was too late in covering his soulmark.

Phantom looked at him eyes wide and sad, “You had a soulmate?”Had. Jason hadn’t looked, but that had to mean it was grey right now. Jason felt his eyes prickle at the reminder. One look, one touch from Phantom and he forgot all about having a soulmate at all. To think he was that fickle.

“Have.” Jason corrected. Even if maybe their connection was frayed because Jason was wrong now.“Have?” Phantom asked bewildered.

“Yeah,” Jason said mouth dry, Phantom deserved to know if they started something. “It changes, from pink to grey and back, has done so for years. They might be sick.”

There was no way Jason would admit his personal fear out loud.

Phantom stared at him eyes wide and mouth slightly open as if he was the one seeing a ghost. Then frantically he pulled Jason’s hand away from the mark. Jason was so startled he let him. Phantom then looked from him to the little stars of raised skin and back again.

“I-“ He said. “I never-“

He shook his head in… disbelief? Awe? Clearly he couldn’t find words. Then there was a bright flash, but more than that sudden warmth bloomed up his arm from his mark to his chest.

Desperately Jason blinked the stars out of his eyes only to see blue eyes instead of green, black hair instead of white. Skin pale and not glowing, human. Alive.

Bare hands touched his skin, calloused fingers brushed his soul mark and sent another wave of warmth up his arm.

“What?” Jason tried desperately to catch up to what had just happened, as he looked from Phantom’s bare hands to his face to the fact he was not clad in a nasa t-shirt and jeans instead of the black and white suit.

“Hood,” Phantom said intently, then gestured with his eyes at Jason’s soul mark which was now pink, framed by Phantom’s living hands.

“Hood,” Phantom repeated a helpless half smile on his lips when Jason met his eyes, “my superpower is dying on command.”

Dying on command.

Jason’s mouth fell open.

Dying on-

Rapidly events caught up to him. Phantom was dead, Jason’s soulmark grey. Phantom was alive, Jason’s soulmark pink. Phantom could die on command.

Laughter, ridiculous laughter bubbled out of his chest. All his worry, thinking he came back wrong (he did, but not that much, not enough that he didn’t fit his soulmate), and it was just because of Phantom’s powers. He’d been torn about falling for Phantom when he was his soulmate all along.

He laughed and laughed and laughed.

He laughed until he cried.

“f*ck,” he cursed. He couldn’t even wipe his eyes because of the stupid domino.

“Hey,” Phantom said, holding his hands out, clearly unsure about touching him.

“Did you ever consider how it would look to your soulmate?”Phantom withdrew his hands and hunched his shoulders. He didn’t look at Jason as he said quietly, “I did die, to gain my powers. I was the only one who could deal with the ghosts who attacked my hometown. And besides,” Phantom looked up and met Jason’s eyes with grief, “my mark was grey after my death. I didn’t know if my soulmate had died or it was because I had died. For about six months my mark was grey, before it somehow came back alive, by then I was in too deep. Figured any soulmate must have given up on me.”“I was dead,” Jason said quietly.“I know, I can sense it.” Phantom managed a smile at that, “Tim was tired of hearing me wax poetic about you.”“What?” That teased out a laugh.

“Yeah, how you’d died like me. How you avenged those in need, freeing their spirits. Your thighs.”Jason spluttered.

Phantom tilted his head, hand going to his chin and stroking it in mock consideration. “Now that I think about it, it was probably the thigh talk that convinced Tim to introduce us, he always looked so disturbed.”

Jason laughed shortly. Phantom grinned pleased for a moment but then his smile fell.

“Hood?” Phantom said quietly, and Jason met his gaze. “I really, really like you. This-“ he held out his left arm where his own mark depicted an open book- “it doesn’t actually change anything. And it doesn’t mean you have an obligation to like me back.”Jason stared incredulously.

How in the world could he think Jason didn’t like him back?

Then, he grabbed Phantom and pulled him into his arms, careful to mainly use his right arm and not ruin Phantom's work. Phantom yelped in surprise, but quieted immediately once Jason got him settled in his lap. His face was quickly turning red.

“You. Are an idiot.” Jason said sternly and leaned his forehead against Phantom’s temple. He proceeded to ignore the insulted protest and said, “I like you.”

That shut him up.

They could save love for later.

Oo o oO

Okay I might be getting cavities here, I hope ya'll feel they deserved the happy ending. I need to work on something proper angsty next to compensate XD

Eternity, I pledge

Dead on MAYn Day 3Prompt: King Danny & Knight JasonWarnings: angsty and bittersweet.

Jason kneeled in front of his King. Around them the court of ghosts were quiet, but they could have been shouting for all that Jason noticed them; he only had eyes for one person.

Danny.

His King, his savior, his… friend. He had never seen him cold like this. For all that he had a core of ice, he usually had such warmth to him, a smile never far from his lips.

He was laughter and gentle teasing as he eased Jason into his new powers - softening Jason’s frustration with tales of his own early struggles with his powers. He was a grounding hand to hold as Jason had to come to terms with the fact he hadn’t come all the way back. He was a tired smile after a long patrol, dark circles under human eyes, blunt nails rubbing into his scalp, something they hadn’t talked about building warm and pleasant in the space between them.

But now he was cold, frigid and deadly like icy waters. He was furious.

It wasn’t like Jason had expected him to be happy, Jason wasn’t an idiot. He’d known Danny would be unhappy, but he hadn’t expected this.

“Make your pledge then,” Danny finally spoke, though it was more like a cold snap. Frost nipped at Jason’s very human nose. There was nothing to do but go ahead, Jason could no more take back his actions than Danny could refuse them. He met Danny’s glowing blue eyes straight on and forced himself to speak loudly and firmly.

“I, Jason Todd, pledge myself to you, Danny Phantom, High King of the Infinite realms, to uphold your word as law, to serve as both your sword and shield-“ Jason paused to take a breath and then plunged in, “to be your Knight until the End.”

His words rang out with finality. The ancient pledge had not been heard in millennia, not since Halloween pledged himself to Dark and was dubbed Fright Knight. He suppressed a gasp as energy surged in his core. He felt open, laid bare.

Finally Danny pulled the ice sword at his side, it howled like a storm as it escaped its scabbard. Jason felt chilled, for one terrifying moment certain that Danny would reject his pledge and plunge the blade into his chest. He had no idea where that came from. He trusted Danny with his life, but he had never seen him so angry.

Then, the blade rested lightly on one shoulder, then the next.

“Rise, my Red Knight.”

Jason rose stiffly. This would probably have been easier in ghost form, if nothing else he’d have been more resistant to the cold, but Jason hadn’t yet reached a point where he was comfortable in that form. Finally he’d wrangled his cold muscles into order and was standing.

Danny thrust the sword hilt into Jason’s right hand and blessedly held on as the power surged into him from the sword, a tsunami of power racing into his core. His knees threatened to buckle, but Danny squeezed harder and Jason forced his legs straight. The power, Danny’s power, felt exhilarating. There was pain too as his still healing core was forced to grow to accept it, but most of all it felt like flying, like stars swirling above, and that delighted swoop in his stomach.

Finally, after it felt like his core had grown three sizes and he would simply burst if he received any more power it stopped. Dazed Jason looked from his hand, to Danny’s hand still holding on. Then his gaze moved to Danny’s face and it was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over him.

“I hope you’re happy,” Danny spat lowly only for their ears, then let go, leaving the ice blade in Jason’s hand; he may as well have left it stabbed through his heart.

The silence turned into a cheer around them that roared like useless noise in Jason’s ears. None of that mattered, only Danny, who turned his back on Jason and left.

Inside he screamed, howled like the winds he knew his new blade - Stormbringer, it whispered to him - would create, if only he let it. Jason sheathed the sword, ending the temptation. He wanted to go after Danny, but he had been surrounded by well-wishing ghosts, only some he recognized. He wanted to go after Danny, but he had never seen him so angry, maybe it was better to let leave him alone for now. He let the ghosts move him to the party, but he wasn’t quite there.

A year ago was the first time Jason noticed something more than usual was wrong with him. He tired easily. Sleeping didn’t replenish his strength. The rage that had been a constant companion was down to embers - something he’d thought was the result of bettering the relationship with his family, but apparently rage had been the fire that had kept him going and now- then- he’d been dying.

It had been a slow steady decline. He tired more easily. His aches and bruises healed slower, and then it seemed not at all. It had taken two months from Jason realizing until he’d told Alfred as the first one, but by then they’d all suspected something was up anyways.

Nearly six months ago Jason had been bedridden, moved to the mansion for what they feared were his last days.

That is when Danny - Phantom then - had come, like a light in the encroaching darkness. Jason could still vividly feel his ghostly fingers on his cheeks, his forehead resting against his as he seemed to breathe life back into him - or rather as he would later learn afterlife, ghost energy, ectoplasm.

Jason had been properly awake and free of pain for the first time in months.

Danny’s theory was that Jason had been a slowly forming halfa, when the League had gotten their hands on him. Jason would have probably eventually come back to awareness if just left on his own, though it may have taken years. Of course, nobody had known that, and Jason’s dip in the Lazarus Waters had forcibly brought his brain back online.

Lazarus Water, however, was antithesis to ectoplasm. It healed only the living. It had only worked because his body had been enough alive due to the strangeness that governed halfa formations, but it had stunted his core formation - poisoned it. And so when the life force given to him by Lazarus had burned out, there had been nothing to stop Jason’s slow decay, his Ending - until Danny, who had been passing through Gotham had sensed him.

There had been a lot of chaos. His family had thought for a terrible moment that Phantom clad in his cloak seemingly weaved of the night sky itself had been Death themself come to claim him. And in a way he was, though it would only be later they learned he was the Ghost King.

He had introduced himself, only after saving Jason, as Phantom, merely a passing spirit. Bat paranoia momentarily shelved due to Jason’s recovery, had meant fewer questions than would have normally been asked. Yes, Jason would recover now. No, he did not need anything in return.

And then he’d gone.

A week later Jason was well enough to go home to his own apartment, cleaned by Alfred for his return, because it had been in a sorry state when he left. Finally alone, that was when Phantom had appeared again. That was when Phantom introduced himself as Danny, to just Jason, because they were the same. That was when Danny explained his theory, because he had spent the week doing research.

He could have just left, but Jason would be developing powers now. Danny wanted to be sure Jason had the support he’d never had. So, he wanted to tell him he was sticking around Gotham in case he needed him.

And boy, had Jason needed him when he got stuck having fallen halfway through the floor a week later. Luckily Jason had had his phone in hand when it had happened and Danny was only a call away.

It would be another month until Jason discovered that by sticking around Gotham it meant human Danny was squatting in a damp, moldy, half collapsed building slated for demolition and Jason had dragged him back to his own apartment - no matter Danny’s protests that the vibes were right for a ghost and that he couldn’t get sick anyways.

But despite his protests Danny hadn’t left.

It was easier like that, Danny was close when he had mishaps and besides he was good company, especially because he’d been benched due to rapidly developing powers and didn’t have the outlet of patrols.

It was easier, despite how it meant Danny had to be reintroduced to the rest of the family. Something that Jason thought went rather well, but Danny lamented as an unmitigated disaster.

Two months ago, Danny had started to look worried.

One month ago Danny had explained he would have to leave soon. Jason would be okay, he had his basic powers under control. He might still develop more, but since he had a feel for his core now, he’d likely master them easily enough.

Danny would visit of course. He hoped Jason would like him to visit.

Jason had prodded and prodded until Danny admitted to being the Ghost King. That his Knight was sick due to having broken his oath to the previous king. He had released him from the oath, but the only reason he was still existing at all was due to him being the spirit of Halloween.

He was without a Knight and that was not a situation that could continue. For the stability of the Infinite Realms and himself he had to have a Knight. He had to leave to oversee the challenges the candidates had to overcome.

Jason had asked to come along, to see the Infinite Realms he also belonged to. Danny had been unable to argue that point. He had even despite his worry, given Jason a small excited smile telling him he looked forward to showing him.

Jason had felt a stab of guilt, because his real reason was to enter the challenges.

Jason had known Danny would be angry, but he had never imagined he’d be that angry. The words “I hope you’re happy” spat at him like acid, echoed in his mind again and again.

A whispy hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. He’d mostly been left alone by the partying ghosts at this point. He around turned to see the translucent shadowy form of Halloween.

It was hard to believe this had once been the Fright Knight depicted in paintings and tapestries in the castle. He was barely solid for short bursts that pulled his shadows together only to drift apart again slowly. Only his green eyes shone with any sort of vitality.

“You did well,” his voice was weak like a call from a distance instead of right next to his ear.

Jason didn’t know whether to laugh or cry right then, his throat made some sort of half choked noise without his permission. “Danny doesn’t think so.”

“You were the strongest candidate, especially suited to His Majesty… because you are both Halfa…”

Jason could practically see the way Halloween’s energy waned as he struggled to speak. He tried to tell him he didn’t have to say anymore, but the former Knight forged on.

“He will see….

In time…”

Jason grabbed for him reflexively as he faded from view. For just a moment, Jason thought he’d Ended, just like Jason had nearly Ended half a year ago. His breath stuck panicked in his throat, until he realized he could still feel Halloween’s presence.

Slowly and carefully he let out his burning breath. Halloween had merely exhausted himself.

-

The following week was torture. Danny didn’t lose his cold fury for even a moment, as Jason followed him on his official duties: meetings and introductions of Jason as Red Knight to the leaders of the Realms, as well as the more mundane territory disputes and requests spanning from help with the more eldritch elements of the Realms to approval of taking a date to the living realms Danny apparently dealt with, now and again, that had been put off when Danny had been in the living realm.

He was quite literally giving Jason the cold shoulder. The Realms were noticeably colder than they had been when they had arrived together. The Far Frozen seemed to be the only place that wasn’t affected, but then that had already been frigid. The ghosts they met with were unnerved by Danny’s mood, even though he was fair as ever. From what Ember had told him with an amused smirk, they usually argued more with Danny, so at least something good had come out of Danny’s anger with him.

Every day of this Jason’s frustration grew. How were they supposed to resolve things when Danny would not even look at him! It was like the Danny he knew had been locked behind a glacier and every day it became more and more tempting to try and punch his way through the barrier.

It came to a head in a hallway. They had spent a very long day in a meeting with a delegation from some far off kingdom that had spent something like five years to even get here to greet the new Ghost King. Jason was tired from standing all day, and Danny stopping in the hallway, barely turning his head to say “you may leave”, was the last drop.

“What is the matter with you!” Jason snapped.

“Me?” Danny asked dangerously, the air itself rippled around him, but Jason had had enough, he was prepared to dig his grave as deep as it needed to go.

“Yes you, what the Hell crawled up your ass?”

Danny turned in the air and for the first time his anger was hot. He poked Jason in his chest forcing him to take a step back. If Jason had been in ghost form, maybe he could have resisted.

“I take you here on your request to see the Realms, and you lied to me. You enter the challenges. You, who couldn’t even free yourself from the floor a few months ago, who didn’t even know you were a ghost! You, who are still not comfortable enough to stay in your ghost form for any length of time! You could have Ended.”

Jason’s momentary guilt was burned up by the attacks on his faillings.

“But I didn’t. I won. Even in my weak human form.”

Danny scoffed. “What do you want Jason? A gold star for binding yourself to me for eternity? You didn’t even talk to me!”

“You wouldn’t have let me!”

“Of course I wouldn’t. I’ve had a decade to come to terms with eternity, you’ve had not even six months!”

“Six months, a decade, I don’t see how it matters. You needed a Knight!”

“It didn’t have to be you!”

“You would have settled for one of those two bit ghosts?”

“They would have been serviceable!”

Fury and jealousy rose so fast and ugly in his chest Jason expected to see green - of course no green came, because Danny had rid him of every last speck of Lazarus influence when he’d healed him. Danny, who had shown him a whole new world, who’d made him feel like- His thoughts staggered, unwilling to go there. Danny was telling him he’d rather have some low rate poltergeists, that was the important part.

“You would pick them over me!”

“Kneel, Jason!” Danny’s voice thundered and Jason’s knees promptly hit the floor sending a jolt of pain all the way up his spine. Disoriented, it took him a moment to understand, a moment for the horror to settle in.

His body had moved on its own.“Do you get it now, what it means that my word is law?” Danny snarled and held the anger for all of three more seconds. Then, his face crumbled and he fell to his own knees in front of Jason. His hands clenched into fists in his lap as he looked up at Jason. Jason was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

“Do you understand now?” Danny pleaded, “Do you understand what you’ve pledged to me for eternity?”

“Danny…” Finally, Jason understood why Danny was so upset.

“I love you Jason,” Danny confessed hoarsely, voice barely more than a whisper, “I wanted you by my side, not three steps behind.”

Jason followed the tears down Danny’s cheek until they made small splashes as they landed on his clenched fists.

“Danny,” Jason repeated and drew him into his arms. Danny shuddered through a sob and desperately held on to him in return.

“Why did it have to be you?”

Jason didn’t have any arguments anymore, he was left only with the simple truth. He couldn’t abide anyone else as Danny’s Knight-

“Because I love you.”

Danny only cried harder at that. The entire castle shook and rolled with his grief. Jason couldn’t do anything but hold him. Nothing he could say could change the past.

Nothing could change the fact that he would do it again.

He buried his face in Danny’s soft hair to hide his own tears. It was the truth. No one else was good enough. Maybe if there had been more time, but there hadn’t. Danny had already spent a decade with a not-properly pledged Knight, who was weakened from betraying the old King. They had already pushed the choosing as far as they could waiting for Danny to grow into his own role. Halloween had explained this to Jason.“Why-” Jason stopped for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts into something sensible, “why does this have to stop us?”Danny drew back, looking a Jason in disbelief with his red-rimmed eyes.

“I hold all the power, that’s a terrible basis for a relationship!”

Jason reached out, cupping Danny’s cheek. He closed his eyes and he couldn’t help but lean into it.

“You wouldn’t misuse that power - I trust you.” Jason didn’t trust easily, but Danny had had the power all throughout the time they’d known each other. Even if it hadn’t been as clear. Even if it hadn’t been as literal as now, he’d always been careful of making sure Jason had a choice, he’d been homeless in Gotham to stick around just in case Jason wanted his help. Jason trusted him.

“I don’t trust me,” Danny said quietly and his usually glowing green eyes were matte and lifeless as he reopened them to look at Jason. “Eternity is a very long time, Jason. People change.”

Jason growled. He hated seeing Danny so listless, so defeated. As if him becoming a tyrant was a certain path. He took Danny’s face into both his hands and pressed his forehead to his in a mirror of what Danny had done so many months ago. If only Jason could inject a bit of life back to him, but that wasn’t Danny problem. Danny problem was that Jason was bound to obey him through his pledge. His pledge!

“Swear to me-“ What? He couldn’t swear not to ever give Jason an order, he was his Knight he would serve his King, he gained power from serving him. There had to be something else. Something that would let Jason help and not just follow blindly…

“Swear never to silence me, swear you will at least listen and consider and-“ Jason smiled “I will tell you when you are being an idiot.”

Danny sputtered drawing back Jason’s hands to hold them instead, but there was light back in him as he looked at Jason bemused.

“This doesn’t solve the core problem.”

“No. But I like to think it helps.”

Danny huffed. Then looking at Jason intently for any indication of discomfort he lifted Jason’s right knuckles to his lips. A delighted shudder ran up Jason’s arm leaving his hairs standing on end.

“I think it’s supposed to be the other way around,” Jason commented mouth dry as sand.

Danny ignored his inane comment and just kept holding Jason’s eyes as he spoke, “I swear to never silence you.” Then he lifted up the left hand and kissed those knuckles too. “I swear I will at least listen to and consider your words.”

The promise settled like a weighted blanked around them. It was nothing like the pledge in the throne room, which was power and chains, even if Jason hadn’t recognized the chains at the time, this was a comfort.

They had a long way to go still, but at least Danny was the Danny he knew now instead of the furious king. They had time, eternity in fact to work out things.

Jason tried to think of that as a good thing.

-

I feel I must apologize for the ending, it's just the mood this fic wanted. But I hope you enjoyed it anyways!

If it helps I do imagine them happy eventually, though it takes Danny a very very long time to ever give words to things he wants in the context of the two of them.

Dead on MAYn day 2 - untitled so far

Prompt: Jason and Danny abducted by the same cult.No warnings apply.

This was a bad day, was Jason’s first thought as he became aware.

“Oh you’re awake, how are you feeling? That’s a nasty gash on your head,” a voice told him worried.

Jason slowly blinked his eyes into focus. He had the worst headache and when he grimaced he felt something stiff and crusty pull at his skin - dried blood. His arms were tied to a metal pole of sorts behind him which is what had kept him in a kneeling position while unconscious.

A young man slowly came into focus in the dim light. He had dark hair and light eyes, but actual color wasn’t possible to really tell. He was wearing just a simple light t-shirt and shorts, sitting similarly tied to Jason. If he’d been there for any length of time he had to be chilled from the concrete. Jason at least wore sturdy pants which added a bit of insulation.

What had happened?

Jason had been… shopping? Yeah that sounded about right. And then- nothing.

“Hey, please tell me they didn’t knock you entirely senseless?”

Jason focused back on the other… hostage? “What do you know?”

There was a flash of white as he grinned. “I know they came back with you sporting bloodied noses and mr stick up his ass probably have a broken wrist.”

“Who are they?” Jason spoke lowly, looking around, but the room they were in was a basem*nt room only way in was a heavy metal door. Only the barest of light shone through the cracks of an otherwise barred window. There was no one but the two of them.

“Some weirdo cultists.”

Jason must have shown his surprise on his face, because he continued.

“Didn’t expect that, huh?”

“I thought it was just a normal kidnapping.”

“You get kidnapped enough for there to be normal kidnappings?” The man asked eyebrows raising up past his messy bangs.

“Not as such, but my adoptive father is something of a big deal in Gotham so there’s a risk.”

The other thought that over for a moment with a worried frown, before speaking, “I’m sorry you got caught up in this weirdness.”

“And what about you?” Jason asked.

“Me?” He tilted his head.

“You seem remarkably calm about this?”

That earned Jason a chuckle.

“Yeah well you could say it’s not my first rodeo either. I get involved in a shocking amount of weirdness for someone who’s just trying to get a degree.”

He had the sort of smile that invited Jason to share in the joke. Jason gave him a smirk of his own.

“Actually with a degree in Gotham chances are high of becoming a supervillain.”His smile fell as he stared at Jason in shock.

“You’re sh*tting me.”

Jason shook his head and leaned back against his metal pole, unfolding his legs to get a modicum of comfort.

“Shockingly high amount of PhD’s amongst the rogues,” Jason explained.

That startled a laugh out of the man. He had a nice laugh. “Should have picked another city then I guess.”

“And miss meeting me in some cult’s basem*nt?” The words escaped Jason before he’d even had a chance to consider them, it was just too tempting to banter with this man. Only the sudden silence made him realize he was flirting.

The man tilted his head slightly and gave Jason a thoughtful look. Jason found himself tensing, holding his breath, but then a smile spread slowly over the man’s lips, and Jason could breathe again.

“You know what, you’re right. I’m Danny.”

“Jason.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason.” It was said so honestly, with no hint of joking, words soft like a caress, that Jason’s breath hitched. He scrambled to get his thoughts in order. He didn’t know how to respond.

Thankfully Danny, didn’t seem to need a response.

“Urgh, you know what? Let’s get out of here. I usually stick around to see what nonsense they’re trying to do, but I’m not feeling charitable today.” With that Danny pulled his hands in front of him and pushed himself to his feet - as if nobody had bothered tying him up at all.

The action thankfully pushed Jason back into an analytical mindset. He either had training or- “Powers?”

“A few.” Danny winked at him and to his embarrassment he felt his cheeks heating - so much for the analytical mindset. Danny moved over to start to untie Jason. His hands were cold and Jason’s earlier assumption that he was chilled from the floor seemed proved. He needed to keep his mind on track and not think of the way cool fingers brushed against the insides of his wrists. Without using his powers, as he’d clearly done to get himself free, Danny was not fast.

“You shouldn’t show them off, Gotham has a real problem with traffickers.”

“Not to mention death-cults, which somehow nobody warns you about.” Danny shot right back with a put-upon sigh.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Danny ducked back in front of Jason, “if I had known the amount of supernatural sh*t going on- well,” Danny shrugged, “I would have probably still taken that scholarship, because beggars can’t be choosers, but I would have had warning.”

Danny went back to untying with a cursed, “idiots really mad at you fighting them, what’s up with all these f*cking knots! This might feel weird.”

There was a strange liquid sensation in his wrists and forearms and then he was free. He brought his arms back to his front to inspect the damage. His fingers tingled and throbbed as he flexed them, and he had a bad case of rope burn running from wrists up his forearms. They really hadn’t liked him fighting them indeed. He’d been no where near loosing his hands or fingers, but it had been a risk if he’d been tied up too long.

Not that he’d have let it get that far, he’d have slipped out way beforehand.

Cool hands laid themselves on top of his wrists and gripped him gently. A soothing sort of cool energy seemed to seep into his skin chasing away the pain and numbness and Jason was forced to reevaluate his “chilled” theory. The cold might have to do with his powers.

Jason looked up and Danny’s face was very close. The tips of their noses were inches apart. Danny’s eyes were very blue, the light had to hit them just right right now, it was almost like the glowed.

“You really shouldn’t use your powers so obviously,” he cautioned absently, as his eyes traced the thin barely visible white scars on the left side of Danny’s face; they grew over his skin, organic like vines on a trellis - or like lightning. As if the thought had summoned it, he could suddenly smell ozone, wild, like power rippling under the surface barely held back.

“Are you going to traffic me, Jason?”

For a moment the words didn’t register. He was too busy watching Danny’s lips move. Too caught up in that power he felt. What had Danny said? This wasn’t the first time a cult went for him? A death cult? He didn’t want to stick around to be charitable today? He’d never really been a captive.

What was he?

Danny let go of him as if burned and stepped back. The sense of power disappeared just as suddenly, leaving Jason reeling with the sudden emptiness. He felt as if he’d been dropped into a desert with emptiness stretching for miles in every direction.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. Most people don’t-“ He cut himself off.

Jason swallowed, realizing he had been scared, and pushed himself to his feet. He felt wobbly and disoriented, disconnected.

“Most people what?” He demanded, when he finally felt stable on his feet.

Danny looked at him with a worried frown. “Most people don’t feel my power at all. You’re either magic…”

There was an “or” clearly missing. Jason didn’t know why, but he knew he had to know. “Or?”

“This is really not the best place for this,” Danny hedged looking around them with a grimace.

Jason stepped forward and grabbed his arms. The power was back, though more muted than before, like it was hiding behind layers of fabric.

“Or?” He demanded.

Danny looked up at him a strange expression on his face. “Or, you have more than a passing familiarity with death.”

It felt like the ground dropped out from under Jason’s feet, that first rush of air of a fall. Yet, somehow he was still standing. Danny’s hands gripping his arms hard in return was the reason. He gave Jason a small shake and when Jason sorta focused on him, he said, “This is not an empty stomach sort of conversation. Least I know why they grabbed you too. Come on.”

And with those words suddenly they were flying up through the ceiling and the next ceiling and the next, it became a blur until suddenly they were outside in fresh air high above the city. Jason moved his legs in a startled motion, but nothing happened. He was weightless, Danny’s hold on him was light. That cool energy was flowing through him again, but this time it was his whole body.

The view of Gotham stretched out below them, behind them was the harbor, they’d been in one of the many more or less abandoned buildings that dotted the area between harbor and city proper. Too many gun fights broke out in the area over shipments of various illegal items for any legal businesses to want to rent those buildings for any substantial amount of time, which explained how a (death?) cult had set up shop.

Jason was very carefully ignoring the fact that he was flying. It wasn’t the first time he’d flown with someone - those other times however he’d still been able to feel gravity, now he was weightless. The air might as well have been water, though it didn’t press on him.

The view of Gotham was breathtaking from up here. Evening was closing in on a rare day with few clouds for Gotham which meant blue actually peeked through in spots.

Danny sent him a grin and Jason’s stomach did a flip. When Danny moved so he only held Jason’s hand, Jason noticed they were both somewhat see-through.

“Are we invisible?” He asked.

“Sure are, don’t wanna catch unwanted attention.”

With those words Danny flew them through the city until they came to a flat topped roof in view of the Gotham U campus. He set Jason down and held his hand until he was steady on his feet as gravity reasserted itself on his body, like a heavy blanket.

“I know a good burger place nearby.” Danny had said he was a student, with Gotham U in view that supported the claim. Danny continued speaking, “I will return with food, but if you want to leave in the mean time-“ He nodded towards the roof access and gave a shrug- “otherwise I will explain things once we have eaten. Any allergies or dislikes?”

Jason numbly shook his head. Danny faded away like a mirage, leaving Jason with just the view of the old campus buildings.

Jason sat down to wait. Danny had given him an out, but there was no way Jason could let this go. Not just because of his training, but because he needed to know. If Danny knew anything of what had brought Jason back…

Of course it occurred to him that Danny might have just fled himself, it would have been the smart thing to do. He had no obligation to tell Jason anything, Jason was a stranger. But somehow Jason knew Danny wouldn’t have said he’d be coming back if he wasn’t.

Jason’s gut feeling was ratified when Danny returned about 20 minutes later, brandishing a large paper bag and two milkshakes as he turned visible. Somehow Jason had felt he was there just a moment before he turned into visibility, like a prickle on his skin - it was something to examine later.

Danny had brought them both cheeseburgers and fries. The burgers were juicy and the fries crisp and spiced. Jason felt more real, more himself with hot food in his belly. Danny had given him the choice between the cherry or the pistachio milkshake as he set down beside Jason. He had chosen the cherry - it was good. With those flavor options he had to wonder what more options they had.

When their impromptu rooftop picnic was done, aside from the last of their milkshakes. Jason’s eye were drawn to Danny’s calloused hands, where they fiddled nervously with the straw.

Something was building, there was a grim set to Danny mouth and Jason was suddenly uncertain if he really wanted an explanation at all. Danny had powers that Jason could feel because they were death related, so what? That was an explanation of a sort already.

“I died when I was fourteen.”

The statement was like a punch to the gut, and Jason felt just as breathless. He snapped his head to Danny, about to tell him that he really didn’t have to tell him that, but Danny held up a hand. He met Jason’s eyes squarely, somehow conveying that it was okay, that he wanted to share this.

“An interdimensional portal opened up right on top of me, killing me, but all that energy also revived me, killed me again and revived me over an over…” His eyes slid from Jason to the skyline haunted and empty. He clenched his fists and took a deep breath, then looked to Jason again. “It left me somewhere in the middle, both dead and alive and neither all at the same time.”

Jason didn’t know what to say. The weight of the trust Danny was showing him by telling him about his death, was heavy like an anchor rooting him to the spot.

“These days,” Danny continued in a lighter tone, “I consider myself something of a bridge between the spirit and the living world. I help where I can in between trying to live and I get to be kidnapped by death cults because of my energy.” Danny shrugged carelessly, but the pinched eyebrows gave away how anxious he was about Jason’s reaction.

It was honestly not the strangest story Jason had ever heard. The world was a strange place what was one more addition to the tapestry that was Jason’s life? A thought occured to him. He carefully looked out over the city - the sunset painted the sky red in between the skyscrapers - and steeled his voice neutral.

“A bridge huh? Between the physical and the spirit world…”

“Yeah.”

“Do you also master all four elements?”

“No, mostly just ice- wait a moment,” Danny’s head snapped to face him as he caught on to the Avatar joke and he promptly punched his shoulder.

Jason laughed.

“It is not funny!” Danny insisted, yet he had to cover his mouth to muffle the laughter that wanted to escape. For a moment his shoulders quaked in silence but then he gave in and laughed.

“f*ck you, Jason, I was trying to handle this conversation respectful of the heavy subject.” Then almost as afterthought he muttered, “Ancients, I never thought of it like that.”

He leaned all the way back until he was lying on the roof, looking up to the sky. Jason followed suit.

“I don’t want to talk about my death,” Jason admitted.

“That’s alright. It’s not the sort of thing you ask a spirit to share, it has to be freely given.”

Jason turned his head to look at Danny.

“Is that what I am? A spirit?”

“I’m not entirely sure, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

Jason should probably ask him to elaborate, milk him for all the information he had. Danny was a being with still unknown powers in Gotham, Bruce would be unbearable if he learned. But Danny didn’t feel like a threat to him and Jason was tired of asking questions.

From next to him he heard a sigh.

“For a moment back there,” Danny started a wistful note in his voice, “I actually thought I might be getting lucky tonight.”

Jason snorted at the unexpected subject change. He hesitated for a moment, but then threw caution to the wind. “Who says you aren’t?”

Danny sat up so fast he jumped a foot off the ground - he didn’t even seem to notice the fact he was still hovering as he turned around in the air to face him hovering above him. “You gotta be yanking my tail! After all this?”

Jason shrugged, deliberately moving his arms a bit higher where they pillowed his head. He smirked, delighted at the way Danny’s eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin revealed as his shirt drew up.

“I, uh-“

Something occurred to Jason. “Do you have a tail to yank?”

This time it was Danny’s turn to smirk, his teeth were distinctly sharper than they had been a moment ago. Jason’s mouth went dry.

“Sometimes, when I want to.”

Jason had almost forgotten what question he had asked. When it sunk in he blushed at the implication he could change his shape. Trying to regain his composure, he teased, “So it’s a deliberate choice to be a skinny twink?”

Danny flicked his nose for that. “No, this is just me. My low energy state if you want.” He paused for a moment considering then added teasingly, “I can’t change my shape much in human form.”

“Human form?” Jason asked curiously.

Danny hummed, and reached out slowly, leaving plenty of time for Jason to move away. He didn’t. He did shudder though, when cold fingers brushed his cheek and trailed down his throat. He could feel the power held in check, a tsunami behind a dam. Holding Danny’s eyes he tilted his head back to give him more room.

Danny sucked in a breath. His eyes darkened and Jason felt the power ripple.

“Maybe I’ll show you,” Danny said slowly, “if you’re very good.”

Jason swallowed. Yeah, he could be good. He could be very good.

When Danny kissed him, Jason thought this hadn’t been too bad a day after all. Even despite the weirdness, Jason would take it. And the night? The night was shaping up to be all the better.

Bonus:

“What the Hell, Jason!”Jason startled awake at Dick’s outburst from behind him.

“You couldn’t have called us to say you were alright? I know you have more than the one phone!” Dick continued his tirade.

Danny was as awake as Jason and looked up at him with wide eyes from where he was conveniently hidden by Jason’s larger frame. Jason resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Wing,” he said tiredly as he worked to disentangle himself from Danny and turn around, but Dick didn’t even hear. He was pacing back and forth, very much not done with his rant.

“Nooooo, you get grabbed on open street and we get to find some weird cult, with a huge magic circle and strange bubbling liquids, and they have your wallet and phone - and your tracker. I can’t believe you didn’t bother to get it when you escaped!”

“Wing,” Jason tried again.

“Of all the-“

“Nightwing!” Jason said firmly with great emphasis on the call sign.

Dick spun to look at him finally. He did a double take when he saw Danny peeking over Jason’s shoulder with wide eyes.

“Danny, meet my friend Nightwing, we go back a long time. Like I mentioned, my dad being who he is, kidnapping is a risk and you meet people this way.” Jason gave Dick a telling glare and his mouth clicked shut, message obviously delivered: Jason was not compromised but he sure would be if Dick kept blabbering.

“Wing, this is Danny, my co-would-be-sacrifice. He’s a regular Houdini with rope and locked doors, he got us out.”

“Hi,” Danny said hesitantly raising a hand in a little wave.

Dick rubbed his face. “You could have called.”

“I was busy.”

“I can see that! Just-” Dick threw up his hands and walked to the window he’d entered through, “call your dad before you get busy again, he’s worried.”

He left through the window and didn’t even bother to close it, dick. Jason turned to look at Danny, he was beet red.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t even consider they might have taken your things.”

“They didn’t take yours?” They mustn’t have, Danny had gotten them food.

“I- um,” Danny grimaced then admitted, “I store my phone and wallet in my thigh for the most part.”

For a moment Jason stared, then he burst out laughing. Danny slapped his chest.

“It’s not that funny!”

But really it was, especially because of the way Danny pouted. He leaned down to kiss the pout away but Danny stopped him with a hand over his mouth.

“No, you go call your dad so we don’t get more surprise visitors.”

-Hope you enjoyed!If I get the time I want to write a small sequel for one of the last days, but I haven't started yet so we'll see.

A Man Has Needs - Part 2

First | Masterpost

DP x DCShip: Dead on MainSummary:

In which Jason keeps up ending up in Danny's bed and not even for any fun reasons.

Part 2

Danny awoke Wednesday morning to the second coming of his human shaped bedmate. Of course with the terrible shape the guy’s core was in he hadn’t expected the first time to be the last time.

He sighed and rested his forehead on the warm bare chest right in front of him, closing his eyes again. Despite the dumpster smell, Danny was really freaking comfortable in the guy’s arms, pressed skin to skin, enveloped in his larger frame. Sighing again he slipped intangibly out of the hold. It was one thing to cuddle incidentally while sleeping, entirely another to continue while he was awake.

The guy was here because he was starving.

Danny cast a longing gaze over his shoulder - was it so wrong to long for someone who’d hold him like that just to hold him and not because he gave off surplus energy?

Danny frowned and floated over to his closet to pull out T-shirt and jeans, he didn’t want to risk getting caught in his underwear again. It had been embarrassing that he’d forgotten the last time, but it was only when the guy came out dressed he’d realized. Maybe he needed to start sleeping in a shirt? Maybe it would be less awkward. - Less like waking up from a one night stand without the benefit of even having gotten laid.

That was a thought - Danny couldn’t really have someone staying overnight.

Not that he really had much game in the first place, but a small part of him had hoped maybe getting away from his parent’s infamy and his own unfortunate high school reputation might change things a bit. And while Danny wasn’t discounting the possibility that he could end up doing something ridiculously embarrassing that would make him a social pariah for the rest of his college experience, these first two days had been really nice.

Nobody could replace Sam, Tucker and Val, but he’d met some really nice people that felt like they could be good friends.

It wasn’t like Danny had had plans to start dating or end up in bed with strangers, but it was college. There were gonna be parties - that he might even get invited to! And he’d been open to the possibility, if it happened. Mutually consenting adults doing adult things because they wanted to. Danny knew and embraced the fact that he was something of a bi-disaster.

Not that that mattered right now. Nothing could happen.

Danny finally pulled the shirt on over his head and stared unseeingly at the closet door. Ghost animals wouldn’t have been a problem, they were generally shy and wouldn’t join him if he wasn’t alone. But Danny’s ghostly visitor was part human and not only that he was starving and sick.

Not only did he not want to explain to a one night stand, or worse someone he was dating, why an unfairly handsome man joined them in the middle of the night, he also didn’t know how his guest would react to Danny not being alone. The starvation might make him territorial over his food source. It also wasn’t out of the question that he would seek out Danny elsewhere in the city.

It was just a potential disaster best avoided entirely.

Danny sighed and finished dressing. Lamenting temporary restrictions on his non-existent love life didn’t help any. Breakfast and coffee however, that was something he could do.

Oo o oO

Mint and frost in his nose.

Jason’s eyes flew open and he sat up. Not his room, not his apartment.

Memories flooded into his brain and he buried his face in his hands. How could he have forgotten this had happened? How had he not done research? He had crawled into some guy’s bed to sleep, been fed breakfast and sent on his merry way, and Jason had forgotten? Or well not exactly. Rather he’d been distracted and the strange events of Saturday morning hadn’t seemed important.

What was wrong with him?

Jason rubbed his forehead. Somehow it had happened again. He quelled the rising alarm. Panicking would do him no good.

There was the rustling of movement beyond the not quite closed bedroom door. Jason’s head snapped up.

For a moment he just breathed watching the door. He would be on the other side of the door. There was the scent in the air again beckoning him to follow. His head spun as he breathed in deep.

Jason should have conducted a proper background check on the guy after the first time. He had no real excuse, but he’d gone to Sunday dinner at the manor. They’d all been so surprised and happy to see him, that had been a surprise for him. He’d expected their surprise but not their happiness. He’d even managed to interact with Bruce without any scathing words. He’d scarcely been able to believe how well it went.

He’d gotten so much done since Saturday and then, what had happened last night?

He was on patrol and he’d suddenly been hit by exhaustion, like a sledgehammer. He’d had to call off relatively early. The last thing he remembered was stashing his gear and then nothing.

Mint and frost.

Would the man have called the police on him this time? First time could reasonably have been called an accident, but a second incident? Didn’t seem near as accidental.

Jason’s eyes fell on the pillow his head must have rested on just moments ago and promptly had to strangle the urge to burrow his face in it and breathe it in.

Disturbed, he jumped out of the bed. Something was up with him. Something weird.

He collected his clothing and boots, just as scattered around the room as they were last time. He couldn’t find his left sock. His shoulders wound up in tension. Just his luck.

Like last time, he considered jumping out the window, but he really should face the music, and he wouldn’t figure out anything if he ran away. Maybe this time he would be able to apologize for the intrusion.

He opened the door the rest of the way and promptly his shoulders lowered as the tension left him in a sigh at the sight of the guy in kitchen area.

Jason didn’t know what to do with the reaction. It didn’t make sense at all. Nothing about his situation had changed. And yet, it was okay now. The idea that the guy would call the police on Jason was ridiculous, because he was safe here.

The guy watched a sizzling pan intently, his black hair was an unruly nest on top of the bent over head. He was clothed today, which wasn’t something Jason should be disappointed about.

“There’s a cup of coffee on the table,” he said, without taking his eyes away from the pan.

Jason’s eyes moved to the small table they’d eaten at last time. Sure enough, a steaming black mug with white text sat there innocuously.

Okay, so they were doing this again.

Carefully he made his way to the table, looking around. There were a lot less moving boxes this time. A bookcase had been assembled next to the window on the right wall and half filled with books. He was too far away to read titles, but the size of most of them pointed toward textbooks rather than literature. There was still an open place on the floor over there suitable for a small couch.

He sat down and folded his hands around the warm mug, then immediately unfolded them as he caught a glance of the word dead. He turned the mug around.

Are you a half-dead or half-alive kind of person? The mug asked to Jason’s bemusem*nt. It was clearly a pun on the glass half empty or full saying, but rather on the morbid side.

“Gift from my friends, they think they’re hilarious,” the guy said, and Jason looked up to find him smiling at him even as he rolled his eyes at his friends. Jason’s lips turned slightly upwards of their own accord.

“Anyways breakfast! And not even burnt,” the guy declared setting a plate down in front of Jason: A piece of buttered toast with two fried eggs sunny side up. And indeed not even burnt. If that was a concern that certainly explained his intense concentration earlier.

Guy sat down with his own plate. Just two fried eggs.

“No toast?” Jason asked before he could help himself.

“I hate toast.”

Now even more confused Jason looked at the toast on his plate. Why did he even have it then? He lived alone, far as Jason could tell.

“My sister brought it,” guy explained exasperated, “she says I should eat some bread too, for variation.”

Jason snorted, then looked down to the breadless plate, and back up with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, yeah, you laugh it up. I bet you don’t do everything your older sibling tells you to either - if you have one, that is.”

Jason did actually laugh at that. He raised his mug. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Guy’s face went from momentarily confused to a feral smile and he lifted his own mug to clink against Jason’s. “To disobeying older siblings.”

Breakfast continued mostly silent after that point as they both ate. Jason was careful not to touch the other man, he remembered the strange reaction he’d had last, but otherwise he felt good; relaxed, languid and full as if he’d eaten quite a bit more than a single piece of toast and two eggs.

Guy was leaned back in his chair head resting on top of the backrest eyes looking unseeing at the ceiling, long line of his neck on display. It was good Jason felt so sated, it made it easier to ignore the fact he kinda wanted to lick and bite his way up that throat.

It wasn’t like Jason didn’t have any libido but it was an odd thought process to have for him with someone he barely knew.

Guy’s hands were curled around his mug and he occasionally took a sip, throat bobbing with the motion. He looked as relaxed as Jason felt. After one such sip, he checked his phone and the atmosphere was broken with a “sh*t! Forgot the time!”

The guy rushed around the apartment grabbing coat and keys and backpack. Jason followed him outside into the hallway as he finished tying his shoes while somehow walking. He straightened and locked his door.

“Take care of yourself,” he called after Jason as he ran down the hall.

Jason was left mildly shellshocked staring down the now empty hallway. He had managed to get through the whole encounter without any strange electrifying touches. Why did he feel so bereft?

Something was clearly up. With the guy? With Jason? He wasn’t sure, something in him rebelled at the very idea of labeling the guy as a threat, and that set him on edge.

One thing he knew for certain; he had a long overdue background check to do - and he felt full of energy to do so.

-

And so it continues, I actually wrote this months ago, but wasn't entirely happy with it, but then @ollietheotaku commented on part 1 and I was reminded and realized maybe my eyes would be fresh on it now and here we are. Never let it be said commenting on older fics doesn't work!

I also started writing part three but with Dead on MAYn starting in a week I really must focus on my fics for that!

Hope ya'll enjoyed! I don't always get around to replying to all comments but know they are appreciated and so is speculation what is gonna happen.

If you wanna subscribe you can do so at the Masterpost

A Man has Needs part 1

This will hopefully be a short thing, maybe three or four parts. Silly with a small dash of angst for flavor. Also someone needs to stop me from starting new stories, instead of indulging my insanity.

Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny)

It had been an exhausting Friday, people were out celebrating the weekend and payday both. To top it off it was prime petty crime weather too with no rain. It was a patrol that would never end. Crime Alley had really lived up to its name tonight.

Jason was exhausted. Not because anything had been particularly challenging or dangerous, but it had just been one very long night of constant stupid little crimes.

It was five in the morning and his bed was calling him. He’d already stashed his gear in storage on the roof and he was so close to being home he could practically feel the soft sheets, the promise of sleep. The open bathroom window was a bother when he was this tired. Maybe he should have just gone down to the street and walked in the door, but keys also seemed like such a bother right now and more stairs… No, window was fine, he was in.

Bed. Now.

He bumped into something outside the bathroom door. Fuzzily he looked down to see a moving box - odd. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, he’d deal with that in the morning. Bed, comfort, safe.

He stumbled into the bedroom when it turned out the door wasn’t properly shut just pushed mostly closed.

Okay check list. Boots off. What else? Pants off, shirt off. He’d pick up in the morning. Did he forget anything? Toothbrush. He glanced backwards halfheartedly, he’d already left the bathroom; bed was right there.

The bed won. Tomorrow he would deal with teeth.

Tomorrow…

He crawled under the sheets. Warm and nice and safe and mmmmh he snuggled closer to the source, breathing in mint and something biting like frosty morning air. His nose buried into soft short hair and breathed in deep again. Good. Amazing. Safe. Sated.

Sleep.

Oo o oO

Danny turned and stretched with a yawn. He frowned when something held him into place. Must have gotten himself caught in the sheets again. It wasn’t a problem, he just slipped away intangibly, rolling to the edge of the bed to reach blindly for the night table.

Where was the phone? It took him a moment but finally it connected with his hand.

He groaned when he saw the time, it was nearly midday. Jazz would frown at him for already messing his sleep schedule up, but he’d just wanted to get as much set up in his apartment as possible, that had to be an okay excuse? He turned back on his back and looked at the light dancing across the ceiling from the light breeze moving the curtains. Okay time to get up. He had another day of unpacking today.

He got out and stretched absently. He turned around intending to make his bed if only to look responsible for when Jazz would come later to see the apartment.

He turned and promptly clapped his hands over his mouth to contain the frightened scream.

There was a guy in his bed! How was there a guy in his bed?! Ancients, what the f*ck?!

Wait.

Danny tilted his head, eyes trailed down the muscular and scarred back, to a well shaped butt, which the tight boxers did very little to hide, and then those thighs!

There was a hot guy in Danny’s bed!

Focus Danny. He shook his head and slapped himself for good measure. That wasn’t what was important right now - though those thighs… Ancients, Danny would happily die again crushed by them.

No!

What was important was somehow there was a (hot) stranger in his bed. Danny had not invited him, of that he was sure. He had been unpacking yesterday, there had been no consumption of ghost zone alcohol yesterday, which could otherwise explain the lack of memory.

Which meant the guy had for some reason entered Danny’s apartment and slept with him - in the boring ordinary sense, Danny lamented this fact quietly for a moment.

Danny wasn’t surprised he hadn’t woken up, he slept, well, like the dead. The only thing that would wake him was very loud noises (like his alarm or his Dad’s inside voice) or occasionally his ghost sense.

It wasn’t even that Danny was surprised to find a bedmate. It was rare that Danny slept alone these days. He was, no matter how you put it, a very powerful ghost and he gave off a lot of good concentrated ambient ectoplasm.

Sometime last year the blobs and animal ghosts in Amity had started to join him every now and then when he slept. According to Frostbite it wasn’t so strange. They fed on the energy he gave off and also benefitted from his presence, which apparently radiated safety.

At first he’d been woken up by his ghost sense every time, but he’d gotten to a point where he just subconsciously dismissed the sense when the ghosts in question didn’t have ill intentions.

So Danny wasn’t surprised he wasn’t alone. He’d expected a bit more time to pass before whatever weak ghosts might be around figured out he was here, but you don’t wake up six days out of seven with cuddly animal ghosts in your bed and get surprised by it.

No, Danny was surprised by the fact that it was a guy. A human. A person. With muscled arms and- Oh, Danny realized cheeks heating up, that probably hadn’t been the sheets he’d been stuck in earlier.

Danny covered his face with his hands and groaned in despair.

Why was there a guy in his bed? Why couldn’t there be a guy in his bed for normal reasons? Danny would have brought this guy to his bed for normal bringing a guy to bed reasons.

He crawled onto the bed intending to wake the stranger, but as he reached out for the guy’s shoulder he turned leaning into the touch and sighed like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders.

Danny was frozen, staring at the point of contact. He could sense it now: the man’s malnourished ghost core.

Danny swallowed thickly, suddenly seeing the many scars on the man’s back in a different light and that pure white streak in the otherwise black hair, it all seemed so obvious now.

The man was a halfa, or halfa adjacent. Because that was definitely warm human flesh underneath Danny’s hand.

So incredibly, unbelievably, absurdly this was essentially the same situation as usual, except not at all, because this was a person. Humanoid ghosts and ghosts with human-like or above intelligence didn’t do this. There were social conventions in place and not to mention they were usually powerful enough on their own to not need the ectoplasm.

But this guy was malnourished. He probably never had a good stable source of ectoplasm to properly develop his metabolism. Also to Danny’s metaphysical senses he smelled like he’d done the ghostly equivalent of dumpster diving to survive. Danny’s ectoplasmic aura had to be like the siren call of a buffet table.

sh*t.

New plan. Danny was not gonna embarrass the poor guy. The situation was weird enough as it was. Danny was just gonna act like this was normal. Danny woke up with guests practically every day.

This was a person, not an animal, therefore petting was out of the question, so coffee.

Coffee was normal to offer guests. Also Danny needed coffee. He nodded to himself in satisfaction and floated off the bed to enter his combined kitchen and living room. The coffee machine was the first thing he got set up yesterday, clearly smart of past Danny.

It wouldn’t be long before his guest awoke with Danny no longer in the room to supply passive ectoplasm.

Maybe his human stomach wanted food too?

Oo o oO

Jason woke up with his head and nose buried in a pillow that smelled wonderful and comfortable somehow. He breathed in deep, catching mint and that biting cold he vaguely remembered from last night. Now, however he wasn’t dead on his feet, he was awake, more rested than he remember feeling for a long time and his brain connected the details into very alarming facts:

This was not his pillow. This was not his bed.

He sat up, quickly taking in the bare white walls and the stack of emptied and flattened moving boxes leaning against the wall next to a built-in closet.

This was very much not his apartment.

There was a noise of a cupboard clanging shut and Jason’s head snapped to the door that was open just a crack; he was not alone.

sh*t.

He jumped out of bed, bending his knees upon impact to soften the sound. He needed to leave. Where was his clothes? His gaze darted around and he hurried to pick up his discarded items of clothing as he found them. Somehow one of his boots had ended up under the bed.

Quickly he pulled on the jeans and the shirt, was he wearing a jacket yesterday? He didn’t remember. Boots on and then he was going out the window- except there was the scent of coffee and something in the air. What was that smell?

He found himself moving to the door instead. The door squeaked as he pulled it open and he froze, hand still on the door handle, when the sound drew the attention of the young man in the kitchen.

His hair was black and sleep tousled, he had a slender athletic build and as he walked around the kitchen island bearing two cups it became apparent he was just wearing boxers. Jason’s inspection ended on his legs, which were admittedly very nice. When he looked back up he found the man standing a cautious distance away and a cute pink blush stretched all the way from his cheeks to his chest. Sky blue eyes looked up a him from underneath slightly frowning brows.

“So, you’re awake,” the man opened with an admirable attempt at a smile considering the situation. There was a beat of silence in which Jason grasped for what to even say, then the man reached his hand forward offering one of the cups, “coffee?”

There were many a thing Jason could say or should say. Like, what the f*ck? You’re just gonna offer the guy who broke into your apartment coffee? Or, I’m sorry I broke into your apartment (and bed!)? And, why do you sleep with your windows open and unlocked? This is freaking Crime Alley! Or, what is it that smells so good?

What he actually said was a quiet, “yes, please.”

The cup was warm in his hands as he sipped it. And clearly this was enough for the cute guy because his smile turned more real and he nodded to himself and walked back to the kitchen counter. Jason really hoped that didn’t mean the coffee was poisoned.

“Feel free to take a seat. I hope you like pop tarts, it’s kinda all that I have at the moment.” As if summoned the toaster made a swish noise popping up the tarts. Hesitantly Jason sat down at the small square table paired with two mismatched foldable chairs. He really should turn and jump out a window. There had to be some kind of reckoning coming. Maybe the guy really cared about hospitality and Jason would be questioned after the food? Maybe that’s what was going on.

But also strangely his gut was telling him he was safe here? He really had no clue what to do with that.A paper plate with a pop tart was set down in front of him and after setting down his own pop tart and coffee the man joined him.

Jason was supremely aware of the few inches between their knees. This wasn’t a large table after all and if he moved just slightly they would be touching. But why would he want them to be touching? Why was it so tempting?

Jason clenched his hands firmly and stared down at the pop tart, with an intensity born of the fact that for some reason he had to focus on not knocking knees with a stranger.

“You look at that poor pop tart as if you think it’s gonna explode, that’s not actually what pop tart means, you know.”

Jason looked up at the guy in disbelief.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah that was terrible I know.”

Silence stretched between them and clearly embarrassed the guy hastily took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his pop tart avoiding Jason’s gaze.

Guilt twisted in Jason’s chest, not only did he invade his home he was also making him uncomfortable. His only comfort was the fact that the guy clearly wasn’t afraid of him.

Jason started eating the pop tart. For whatever the reason breakfast was part of the script the guy had decided on to make an attempt at normalcy. What else was Jason to do? He hadn’t fled when he had the chance and-

Oh-

The guy had shifted in his chair, one of their knees were touching, there was a spark and it felt like something uncurled inside him, a weight lifted. Jason blinked. This was…Mint and frost was a sting in his nose, a fullness in his chest. Goose bumps ran along his arms, and it tingled all the way to his fingertips.

Jason snapped his head up, but the guy was just looking at his phone sipping his coffee. As if he couldn’t feel the cold electricity between them. There was no way he could sit like that if he felt it? Was Jason just imagining it? He shuddered and moved slightly, just enough that they weren’t touching and instantly he regretted it. The wave of longing was almost enough to make his vision black out.

The guy looked up with a frown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine,” Jason said hoarsely, desperately focusing on the half eaten pop tart and taking another bite.

When the pop tarts were eaten and the cups emptied the man stood and Jason matched him. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected to happen at this point but it certainly wasn’t the guy, to walk over to his front door with a casual, “well I should get ready for the day.”It was a clear dismissal. An out for the whole strange situation. Jason stood up and walked over to the door.

The guy opened the door letting Jason out with a short electrifying clap on the back and a “Take care, man.”

Jason was left standing outside the door to the previously empty apartment 4A, several floors below Jason’s own top floor apartment. How did he ever mistake it for his own?

What was the deal with the guy’s touch and why did Jason crave it so desperately?

Unsettled. he started walking towards the stairwell. As he moved further away from the apartment the pull to go back lessened. It was still there, but it was replaced quickly by something else.

He felt rested, energized in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while. There was an urge to do something. He felt like he could take on the world - maybe even Sunday dinner at the manor tomorrow.

Jason laughed. Wouldn’t that surprise everyone?

He was so caught up in the euphoria of productivity and social interactions that didn’t go sour for the next couple of days, that he completely forgot about the strange Saturday morning.

-

If you liked this consider telling me your thoughts in the replies or tags, it is motivating. Now to hopefully write a bit on Catnip.Edit: Masterpost now up if you wanna subscribe

Almanac Chapter 5

DP x DCDead on MainFirst | Masterpost

Chapter 5 - December 10th, Total Lunar Eclipse

Time passed. Jason still dreamt of Gotham, little glimpses of his siblings patrolling the Alley viewed through the ever present fog. Never Bruce, never Batman.

Jason really didn’t know how to interpret those dreams. Was it wistful thinking to dream that Batman stayed out of the Alley, like Red Hood demanded? That they kept going as if Jason would be coming back? As if he was just temporarily on a mission out of town?

Or was it just his brain refusing to touch the tangled ball of emotion Bruce evoked even in his dreams?

Thankfully, none of the Alley dreams had been near as dramatic as that first nightmare. Jason was pretty sure he’d go insane if that happened, it was bad enough that first nightmare haunted him in his waking hours. He couldn’t let go the feeling that Dick had been hurt.

That it was his fault for not being there.

It was far from the first time he’d ever dreamt of Dick or one of the others getting hurt, but usually he could just do a check-up, agree to one of the multiple social invitations he most often ignored. Reassure himself they were alive, unhurt and just as obnoxious as usual and go on with his life.

He didn’t have that option.

If they died, would they come find him? He harshly pushed that thought away and focused back on Fright Knight. Not focusing properly on Fright Knight usually meant broken ribs and he was only just in time to jump aside.

One positive was that the conversation about the All-Blades had won him a measure of respect from the Knight. He’d acquired a paired set of practice blades that he now allowed Jason to use like now, though he still drilled and taught the use of a singular broadsword.

It made the training more varied, and dare Jason say it, sometimes even enjoyable. Even if Jason had the distinct feeling Fright Knight wanted to train him for the single purpose of beating him in a more even match.

The knight had even on one memorable occasion admitted that Jason might have beaten him when he was first unsealed some years ago, before he’d regained his full strength. But of course as he was now with his “mortal weaknesses” Jason didn’t stand a chance.

Still, Jason was improving. He could feel it. He had an easier time following the pace the Knight set and it wasn’t just the Knight moving at a more human speed. The fact that with the two sword style he could now attack and defend with both hands also helped bridge the gap.

Jason attacked with a downward slash, instantly dancing around the counter.

“You are not a ghost,” Fright Knights started, “but your ghostly energy is strong enough to afford you some powers. Of course not to the level of our King.”

Jason frowned, not understanding the necessity to compare him to the King. He decided to focus on the important fact. “What powers?”

“Merely the most basic.”

“That is entirely unhelpful.” Jason stepped forward and caught the overhead slash in a cross-guard before stepping to the side directing it to the ground.

“Ghost powers: invisibility, intangibility and if you’re lucky some measure of flight,” the knight elaborated haughtily.

And okay, maybe Jason felt a bit stupid now for not realizing what he’d meant with basic powers.

He dodged this time instead of blocking and stepped within the knight’s reach aiming his blade for an unprotected armpit. As if in demonstration the sword went right through him in a ripple, before he solidified and drove his armored shoulder into Jason’s chest, knocking him to the ground.

His breath was knocked out of him and for a moment he stared up into the building lunar eclipse steadily coloring the moon an ominous red-orange.

Then, he had to move!

He rolled out of the way of the downward stab and pushed himself back up to his feet, just in time to deflect another blow. The knight had upped the speed.

“What’s the point of mentioning these potential powers?” He said as he dodged another way too close call - hoping against hope to distract the knight. 

“You should use them.” Fright Knight said with another slash which Jason was fool enough to parry. The force of the blow reverberated up his arm and it was only sheer stubbornness that allowed him to hold onto the blade. He was not going to be able to swing the blade for a while.

“Shouldn’t you teach me then?” Jason yelled behind himself as he ran, he had to get distance. He had to come up with a plan.

Fright Knight laughed menacingly, and his eyes blazed green. “Powers develop best under stress.”

Jason felt himself pale. Oh sh*t.

Breathlessly he dodged into a doorway. The open courtyard was only an advantage for an opponent who could fly. He needed somewhere good for an ambush, somewhere to hide. His heart hammered in his chest as he ran through the castle, trying for the most complicated path he could, slamming doors after him to slow the chasing knight down.

Come on come on come on!

Phantom had told Fright Knight to keep him alive, but that was a really wide set of parameters in Jason’s experience!

The hallway curved and suddenly Jason slammed against a wall - a dead end. No no no. He cursed internally knowing too well to say anything out loud. His hands moved desperately across the stone wall; there was no hint of a secret path forward and he didn’t have time to double back. Fright Knight’s ominous laughter was too close and this hallway was too cramped to give him much movement.

The castle still disliked him.

Fright Knight came around the corner, he loomed bigger than Jason was used to. There was no escape. What wasn’t blocked with his body was blocked by the purple flames of his cloak. He drew back his sword.

“The chase is over.”

Desperately he raised his arms, though his right arm still felt dead and wouldn’t be of any use.

The sword rushed down towards him.

He screamed and then he was falling backwards, through the wall, through the floor. And another floor, floor after floor after floor. He rolled and tumbled, trying to reach for anything to stop his fall, but everything slipped through his fingers. He’d lost his swords somewhere unable to hold on to them - never lose grip on your weapons - but he hadn’t they’d gone through his fingers. This was intangibility, but how to stop it!

Stress had triggered it, he needed to calm down. Breathe slowly, count: one - two - three -

A staircase rushed up to meet him. He hit it, painfully solid. Something gave in his shoulder and then his ribs when he curled instinctively to protect his head as he tumbled the rest of the way down.

He finally landed on a cold stone floor. There was a sense of alarm around him. Not his own, no, he was just glad to no longer be moving; even if his right shoulder hurt like a bitch and he definitely had broken ribs, but he wasn’t too out of breath so probably not a punctured lung. Grimacing from the pain he pushed his upper body up with his left hand and looked around.

First rule was always know your surroundings.

There was a sarcophagus, black with green and red detailing, in the middle of the room, lit only by flickering green torchlight. There was something there. A green haze lazily swirled across the floor.

Help.

Help? Jason got to his feet with a groan. He felt so heavy. Supporting his right arm with his left he walked slowly closer to the sarcophagus. Had he seen it before? Before he could contemplate further there was the voice again.

I’m trapped.

There was someone inside the sarcophagus! Jason studied it closer, noticing a keyhole. He looked around but there didn’t seem to be any key.

Help me and I will get you home.

Home. The thought sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to go home so desperately. But he didn’t know how to help. There had to be a key somewhere, but it would be stupid to keep it here. It could be anywhere in the castle, not that the castle would help him anyway.

His eyes fell on where his left hand cradled his arm. He let go with a wince at the extra bad throb in his broken shoulder and raised his left hand in front of his face. An idea niggled at him. Would it even do anything? He didn’t know. He recalled the sensation of slipping through solid matter and saw his hand go slightly translucent.

Could he?

Slowly he reached towards the sarcophagus-

“Jason don’t!”

Jason snapped his head to the side. The King hovered at the bottom of the stairs now, hands raised in a calming motion.

“Jason don’t,” he repeated quieter, a note of pleading in his voice, worry.

Two things occurred to Jason in that fraction of a moment. One, if the Ghost King was worried whatever was in this sarcophagus might actually have the power to send him home. Two, this intangibility might just do something.

He plunged his hand into the sarcophagus.

For a moment nothing happened. It was a long enough moment for Jason to feel like an idiot, standing there with his broken arm and the other phased into a freaking sarcophagus.

Then, an odd cold-hot sensation passed up his left arm. He was displaced, put in the back seat of his own body as something else took the wheels.

Good, now let’s take a look at what we’ve got.

The sensation left faster than it had arrived and Jason had only barely taken a breath with lungs that were his own again, before a massive fist grabbed him around the throat and lifted him off his feet. His hands reached instinctively to remove the pressure around his throat. The cry of pain at moving his broken shoulder was only a wheeze past the chokehold. His left arm was just as useless the hold wouldn’t budge, no matter how he scrabbled and dug in his nails in for purchase.

“I can’t believe it took me this long to call this pitiful creature,” the voice boomed both inside and outside Jason.

A huge grey, scarred face missing the left eye came into Jason’s blurry vision. There was only cruelty to be found there.

”Ah, you didn’t bind his will.” The great head turned, revealing a mane of Lazarus green hair. “Tell me, Phantom, do you like your slaves disobedient? Is that why?”

“He is no slave,” the king, Phantom growled, tightly controlled. Glaciers cracked in the distance and when Jason tried looking at him he wasn’t sure if it was just his blurry vision or if he was blending into the darkness around him. “Let him go!”

That last word rang in Jason’s head like a bell rung right right next to his ears.

“But don’t you see, ghost child? This mortal’s life belongs to the Ghost King. The fact that I could call to him at all proves I am still the king. I will kill him and you can watch, before I take my crown back.”

The hold on his throat tightened. Jason kicked and scratched but nothing helped. He couldn’t breathe. Dark spots danced in his vision, growing with every moment. Noise rushed in his ears. He was- he was going to die!

No! He had to do something- he couldn’t let it end like this.

The hold loosened suddenly and Jason fell to his knees. He gasped, drew air into his burning chest. It was only his training that had him instantly tracking for what had happened. He blinked and squinted until his vision cleared.

Above him Phantom had the old ghost king’s wrist in a large white tipped clawed hand, he tightened his grip and the giant man fell to one knee with a grimace.

Phantom’s grin was too wide, full of too many pointy teeth, as he seemed to grow, and loomed over him.

“You miscalculated Pariah,” Phantom snarled, form rippling, cape flaring. “I am no longer fourteen year old and newly dead. Just because some mortal realities have not been updated on the change in power, doesn’t mean sh*t!”

He paused to lean his head closer.

“I am the King of the Infinite Realms, and the Realms are behind me.”

Jason found himself grabbed gently in dark tendrils and moved towards the wall, even as Phantom continued his verbal onslaught:

“You’ve lost your crown, your power and your loyalty. You are no king and never will be again.”

“Please,” Pariah begged, terror in his eyes.

“No. Jason traded his life to me. He is under my protection. You harmed him, you will never harm another being ever again.”

The next several moments was a whirlwind of too many claws and teeth for Jason’s mind to comprehend. Too many eyes. Green spattered wetly across the floors, the walls, the ceiling, and across Jason’s face to drip down his chin.

And the screams, oh God, the screams. It was entirely one-sided and the screams chilled Jason to the core. For all that he was no longer in a chokehold he might as well have been, because no sound, no breath could make its way out the tightness in his throat.

Finally something bright and glowing red ripped free sent flying by long fingered claws, for a moment it floated above them weightless, then Phantom’s great big maw slammed shut around it.

It crunched.

And for one dazzling second, the screams quieted. Then the whole castle shuddered. Jason covered his mouth, afraid he was going to vomit. He didn’t even know what about it caused that reaction, he wasn’t usually squeamish with violence. Only his gut told him he had witnessed something terrible.

The silence was loud in the room only broken by the occasional drop of green that fell from the ceiling to land on the cobblestone floor with loud plops.

The writhing mass of shadows and claws had stilled into a dark vaguely humanoid hunched figure. The black tendrils laid flat and motionless like a long, tattered cape spread across the floor. The glowing neon green pool left from what used to be Pariah was vivid against the black.

The tendrils around Jason didn’t hold him in place anymore, just rested one him. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to move. One tendril moved then, stroking gently and infusing soothing cold against Jason’s bruised throat. Jason gasped quietly and it was like his first real breath in hours.

“I refuse to regret it,” Phantom’s voice said then coming from all around, yet moving Jason’s attention from the tendril to the figure. “Ending another ghost is taboo for a reason. But-“ The figure turned the head revealing a pair of burning green eyes even as hundreds opened up into existence around them, all looking at Jason - perceiving him.

“He threatened you.”

Jason’s breath stopped again. There was something to be said there. Something about how the king had committed taboo for Jason. Something about how he had not just stopped the threat for now, locked it back up to escape another day; he had ended it.

Jason had never been worth that before.

There was a building pressure behind his eyes and in his chest. It was a tidal wave of old hurts. He fought against the urge to cry. Despite his efforts, a whimper escaped the back of his throat. Mortified, he closed his eyes and pressed back against the wall, he couldn’t look at Phantom’s reaction. He was terrified of judgment, or worse: pity.

“I am sorry.” His voice was but a whisper this time, as if it would prevent it from resonating in Jason’s bones. “I know I am too much, but I cannot reign it in right now.”

The tendril at his neck seemed to tremble as it stroked his bruised throat again ever so careful. “I thought- I feared I would be too late,” he explained.

And suddenly Jason realized, Phantom thought he was afraid of him. He could sense his fear, he’d told Jason once, but he couldn’t tell what he was afraid of. And yes, Jason had been afraid once, you don’t nearly have your brain melted without some sort of response, but that was not the case now. Jason couldn’t let that misunderstanding stand.

The tendrils were retreating. Jason grabbed the one that had been at his throat and forcing himself to meet what seemed to be the main pair of eyes he pressed it back to his throat.

Something passed between them, something Jason couldn’t describe. The air itself both softened and sharpened in intensity. Phantom floated closer. The tendrils were back, cold and soothing. If Jason reached out now he could touch the main darkness that was Phantom. It would take so little. Phantom’s eyes were wide and vulnerable. Jason’s breath hitched.

Something had to give.

“Great One!” A deep voice boomed in horror from the stairs, breaking the moment.

Phantom snapped his head towards the intruder. Jason gasped for air. It felt like he’d been dropped into an ice bath so suddenly was every ache and pain in his body brought back - his shoulder outright throbbed - only nothing had happened, nothing, except Phantom’s attention was no longer on him.

“Frostbite, Jason needs medical attention!” Phantom’s voice was full of relief, his features morphed gradually back into the facsimile of human he usually wore though he still seemed extra wispy. The tendrils however were gone.

Phantom’s attention turned back on Jason, he didn’t see the way the large white furred and horned creature looked around the green soaked room in fear.

Phantom made to reach for him with clawless hands, then drew back embarrassed, actually floating a step back.

“Apologies,” he said. Jason could almost see the way he turned back into the distant king straightening his shoulders and schooling his face into impassivity, like a cloak he wore - or armor. Protecting the vulnerability Jason had glimpsed.

Realizing no ‘Frostbite’ had come any closer, the king looked back over his shoulder, “Frostbite?”

“I’m coming, Great One.” The creature bowed his head as he made his way over carefully, floating to avoid the puddles.

Judging from the frown on Phantom’s face, that was not normal behavior.

“Frostbite…”

“No need to worry, Great One, I’ll make sure your friend is seen to. You can get back to the council.”

Phantom actually grimaced at that. Then he met Jason’s eyes for a heart stopping moment, holding him captive, then he looked away.

“I will see you later.”

Then he left, leaving Jason with whatever Frostbite was. One thing was sure though from the furrowed eyebrows and the sharp fangs bared at him - Frostbite didn’t like him.

-

A chapter finished! Look at me not working on my Dead on MAYn prompts -_-'

Anyways things are happening? Jason and Danny had a moment! Neither is really sure what kind of moment since they were interrupted, but hey, still a moment.I hope you enjoyed Pariah getting what was coming to him :)Anyways comments are greatly appreciated, makes it feel less like I'm screaming into the void.

(you can subscribe for updates at the masterpost)

Take out for Dummies - now on Ao3

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom DP x DC Summary:

"Excuse me?" Jason asked in disbelief. "How would you describe your ideal date?" the man repeated calmly as if he hadn't snuck up on Red Hood on a rooftop in the middle of the night. AKA Danny has been hired to take out Red Hood, there may have been a minor misunderstanding...

I will also add the ao3 link to the Masterlist