Chapter Text
Daily Planet: Check out our latest video interview with a surprise guest! [link]
After much back and forth, an hour long group call Danny had finally convinced Sam, Tucker, Val, and Wes that telling people he was an ice meta was not a suicidal decision. Well Tucker and Wes had mostly been on his side from the beginning, it had been Sam and Val who thought he was trying to pin the GIW on himself. Sighing to himself, Danny collapsed into the bed, sinking into the plush mattress. His phone vibrated in his hand with a call.
“Seriously guys-” He mumbles to himself pulling the phone up, surprised by the caller ID “Adam?” Answering Danny puts the phone up to his ear. “Hey Adam.” Danny starts cheerily.
“How ya’ been Danny?” Adam greets happily, there's cars whistling past on his end of the phone. He must not be home yet.
“I’ve been great! Supposed to start at some rich kid school in a few days, I’ve been kinda nervous about that.” Danny admits honestly sitting up now.
Adam laugh blends in with the sound of a door opening, “Don’t ‘chu go worryin’ about those kids. I met enough of ‘em to know you got twice the brain any of them have.” The cars are more distant now, but Adam’s feet hit the floor heavily. He must be going up stairs.
“You think so?”
“Know so.”
“You on your way home now?” Danny paces around the large open space of his room as he speaks, periodically eyeing the listening device that was still in the vents.
“Yeah.” Adam sighed heartily, “Had a project I needed ta’ start crackin' at.” Keys jiggled distantly and there was the sound of a door unlocking.
“Already? Didn’t classes start two weeks ago?”
“Ain’t it just the life?” Adam laughed sardonically there was some shuffling before he spoke again. His tone shifted away from the jovial chipperness that almost seemed like a permanent quality in his voice to a more tentative and serious tone, “I saw your interview with ‘em Metropolis folk earlier.”
“Oh, yeah.” Danny laughed, “Wes gave me an earful about that.” waiting to see what Adam was poking at.
“I got my share of it, believe me.” Adam huffed in a fond annoyance that made Danny smile. “Listen, Danners, I got the morning off tomorrow. No class, no work. Think you wanna catch the sights with me?”
The old nickname sounded strange with the nervousness that Danny could sense in his tone. Adam was never nervous, in fact, he had a faulty calmness about him. Danny couldn’t help but wonder what had him on edge like that, “Yeah. You got a place in mind?” He agreed easily.
“I’ll come pick you up. How’s 11 sound?”
“You sure? I heard we’re kinda outta the way.” Bristol, where Wayne Manor was, Danny had learned, was outside of the city but still considered in Gotham for more of the symbolism of it, something about the Royal Gotham Family or something. It had become pretty evident the few times he had gone out.
“It’ll be my excuse to see your place. Heard some crazy things about it, y’know.” Adam says more chipper now, but there's still something off about his tone that Danny can’t quite catch. With a promise of spending the day together tomorrow they parted ways.
Danny knew that Adam wanted to talk to him about something. In the way his tone shifted, it was obvious it was something Adam thought required some face to face. Danny was thankful for it, given the ears and eyes he had to hide from in the Manor when certain topics were broached. Danny explained to Alfred and Bruce that a friend of his would be coming by and they were gonna spend the day in the city over breakfast. They were fortunately pretty easy going about the matter, and told them to call them if anything went wrong or felt like it was gonna go wrong or if he needed money, or if he needed a ride back, or if he was hurt, or if- “There’s an Adam here for you, Young Master Danny.”
Grabbing his phone from the table, “Don’t take things from strangers,” Bruce tried to prattle on as he and Alfred followed him to the door, “Even if they tell you it’s safe, and steer clear of anyone wearing a mask that’s not for medical reasons, and if there's a gaseous substance in the air- do you have a gas mask?”
“I’m going downtown, Bruce, not a war zone.” Danny tried to placate, unable to hide his laugh, taking the spare gas mask from Alfred, as he opened the door for him.
“Have a safe trip, Young Master Danny.”
“See you later.” Danny waved, making his way to Adam’s car.
“Alfred, do you think-” Danny caught Bruce starting before the door was fully closed and before he made it all the way down the stairs.
Alfred cut him off pointedly, “May I remind you of your job , Sir. One that you were meant to be present at an hour ago.” And the door closed with a light click.
“Your carriage awaits, Young Master.” Adam snickered in a fake-british accent as Danny slid into the passenger seat.
“Shut up.” Danny huffed embarrassed as he clicked his seatbelt into place. Looking up, Danny realized he recognized the car. “You fixed her up?” Danny asked surprised, running his hand along the center console.
“Yup.” Adam puffed his chest in pride as they left the Manor gates. One of the clients at the mechanic shop they both worked for back in Amity brought in a car that was on its last limb. Most the guys in the shop were surprised he even managed to bring it in. The owner said he couldn’t afford the fix and it’d probably just be better for him to get a new one. Adam had gone up to him and told him he’d take it off his hands for a couple hundred. Considering the guy was gonna scrap it, he was more than happy to give it to Adam. They spent the summer before Adam left for college fixing her up. He’d taken it off with him even though a few more things needed doing. They talked about the specifics of it, and how she was doing for most of the ride into town. The conversation was light and they decided to grab a drink from a cafe and walk around near the park for a while.
There was a small lul after Adam told him about his classes while they sat on the park bench and under the shade of the smoggy clouds. “Danny.” There weren’t many people at the park even though it was midday now. Maybe it was a Gotham thing.
“Yeah?” There were a few shades and shadows floating around, that was definitely a Gotham thing. Metropolis didn’t have half as many shades, probably ‘cause the crime rates are lower there and-
“You never told me you're a meta.” Adam didn’t look at him, instead staring at the empty cup of slowly melting ice in his hands.
Danny wasn’t sure what to say. Danny trusted Adam. Just the way he trusted Jazz and Sam and Tucker and Val and Wes. “Listen Adam-” Danny tried, guilt heavy in his chest. Danny never told Adam that he was Phantom, cause it never mattered. Sure Adam would gush about the stints Phantom would pull off, but so did everyone in his class, and that just seemed so showboding. And Adam deserved to be told properly, not for some extra cool points.
“You’re Phantom aren’t you.” His Tennessee accent mixed with a bit of a Gotham twang, his tone even and serious.
He didn’t look at Danny, it would be easy for Danny to lie his way out of it, making it just a coincidence. After all Phantom was a ghost, and Danny, to the knowledge of many, was very much alive. Phenotypically they looked less and less alike as time passed, it would be an easy sell. Plenty of people were metas, ice wasn’t that rare of a power. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.” Danny admitted quietly.
Adam let out a relieved sigh, either because he had been right or Danny hadn’t lied to him. Finally looking at him, “Nah, I get it. You can’t go ‘round tellin’ just anyone.” Adam tried to laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“No.” Danny said quickly, Adam blinked at his outburst. “No, the reason I didn’t wanna tell you isn’t ‘cause you were just anyone.” Danny looked at the group of boys crawling together under a tree a few feet away from them as he tried to find his words and his spine. “I told Jazz, and Tucker and Sam- well I never told Jazz she kind of figured it out- but it was always something Phantom or something ghostly happening. Y’know.” He tried weakly. “It wasn't like that with you, and I didn’t have to think about what I wasn’t doing, I guess. It was just us and cars and hockey and school and whatever else.” The excuse sounded pathetic even to Danny’s ears, guilt twisted in his gut but Adam took in his words.
“I had my suspicions, y’know. Never seen you two in the same room and all that, and Wes went on for hours . I figured he had some kinda weird crush on you so I didn’t think too much ‘bout it.” He grimaced at what had gone down at the Nasty Burger when the topic had finally exploded, “Guess he was right, huh?”
“You’re not mad?” Danny asked hesitantly, ignoring the teens’ conversation that only got louder.
“Nah, but you totally owe me for that.” He shoved Danny playfully with his shoulder, an easy smile on his face.
“Name your price.” Danny agreed happily.
“Imma save it for a rainy day.” Adam gave him a wicked grin, and Danny rolled his eyes.
“Ugh! I can’t believe that sh*tface-” One of the teens from under the tree yelled outraged. His voice was loud enough to make both Adam and Danny flinch in their spots a decent distance away.
“How could he just quit like that!” Another piped up, fuming. There were sports duffle bags and other equipment carriers spread around the group.
Looking closer Danny could notice some of their hoodies were the same with an orange and white fox design on their black hoodies “And Right before regionals!” Danny realized he recognized the equipment carriers. He had a few of them back in middle school. When he played hockey. They were hockey equipment. Meaning those were hockey players!
Danny listened intently to their conversation. One of them says something too quiet for Danny to hear but the first guy seemed rowdy, “Don’t you tell me to calm down, McGinnis!” He points an accusatory finger, “He knew what we put into that line up. We could’ve beat the Robins this year.”
“He made us toss!” The second one added on. McGinnis says something again and both boys lower their voice, but their irritation at the situation
Danny looked over to meet Adam’s eyes. He raised a questioning brow at Danny, who just grinned in return. Fortunately the hockey team was easy enough to find even though none of them were wearing their jerseys.
Gotham’s Arctic Foxes. They were one of the older teams in Gotham, citing to have been around at least 90 years, which explains why they didn’t stick with Gotham’s bat and bird themed mascots the other teams Danny had looked into had. After the doctor's checkup Bruce had given Danny the go-ahead on joining whatever team he wanted and left it up to Danny to find one that he wanted to join. The only problem had been that there were so many teams in Gotham. It had been a bit intimidating, if Danny had to be honest.
The team’s gym wasn’t far from the park, which is probably why they were there in the first place. Adam tagged along as Danny asked if they had any openings for the hockey team. They handed him some paperwork to fill out.
“Figure you gotta ask your folks?” Adam asked, eyeing the forms in Danny’s hands.
Well Bruce had said Danny could join, but he wasn’t entirely sure how far that permission went. Tim had assured Danny many times that Bruce wouldn’t be so hard on him about the things he wanted to do as long as he could keep tabs on him. Gotham was a dangerous city, so it made sense. But Danny had only stayed with them for a little over a week, and he didn’t want to push any hard boundaries. It was better safe than sorry, so Danny pulled out his phone. It barely even rang before Bruce’s frantic voice came through the other side. “Danny? Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt? I’ll send Alfred- actually I’m probably closer. I’ll come get you.”
Danny sent an alarmed look to Adam who raised a curious brow since he couldn’t hear Bruce, “Um, no. I’m fine. You don’t have to come-”
“Are you sure? It’s no problem. Would you prefer someone else come? I can have Jason come get-”
“Bruce.” Danny tried to sound grounding, not sure what exactly the man was so stressed about. “I was just calling to tell you that I was going to sign up for a hockey team. Or, like, try out, I’m not sure I’ll get in yet. I just heard they had an opening.”
Bruce was silent for a moment, and Danny could hear someone try to get him attention with a “Mr. Wayne.” Was he at work? But he’d answered Danny’s call so fast?
“Oh,” Bruce sighed with a relieved laugh, “You can join any team you like, Danny. You have my card, you can put whatever payment you need on it. I can have Alfred order whatever gear you need, if you’d like.”
“No that’s fine, I'd rather pick them out myself.” Re-considering his words, “If that’s okay?”
There was another “Mr.Wayne” it was the same voice, but closer and more urgent sounding.
Bruce's voice was muffled when he spoke next, “Mr. Sher, I’m speaking to my son.” He sounded annoyed, and his tone was harder than it had been a second ago, “And if you like your position in the company, I suggest you wait until I’m done.”
There was a quiet “Yes, sir.”
So he was at work. I didn’t know you were busy.” It’s 12:47 PM, of course he’s busy. “Sorry.”
“Oh I’m not busy. You can call me anytime.” Bruce said confidently and easily, and Danny couldn’t help but think of all the unanswered calls he’d left the past few years. “There’s no need to apologize. I hope you do well in your…” he paused, “audition.” He tried questioningly. Danny laughed lightly knowing he’d used that since Cass and Steph both did performance arts.
“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“Yup.” Danny looked down at the forms in his laps, and gave Adam a silent thumbs up. The redhead returned with all the silent cheer Danny knew him to hold. “I’ll see you at home then. Bye.”
“See you at home, Danny.” Bruce said warmly. It wasn’t until the call had already ended when Danny realized he had referred to Wayne Manor as his home.
Danny filled out the form, and remembered to correct his last name before he gave it back to the lady at the desk. She looked over it board, until her eyes squinted suspiciously. She looked up at Danny analytically, typed something into her computer. Then back and forth between the form, the computer and Danny, eyes going wide. “You’re- uh” She cleared her through, and Danny couldn’t understand why she was suddenly so flustered. “Interested in the hockey team. Here? The hockey team here?”
“Yes.” Danny had already told her that, and he couldn’t help but feel confused. And Adam’s knowing look wasn’t helping.
“The uh- team went on a break.” She checked the watch on her wrist, “They’re not due back for another 40 minutes. The coach is still here. Mark Adrian. That’s his name- the coach’s I mean. For hockey. Um- I could give him a call and see if he’d want to see if you’d uh- be a good er- fit for the team.”
“Oh, yeah. That would be great.” Danny smiled, happy this was working out so well.
“Of course, Mr. Wayne.” The lady smiled nervously. “If you’d like to um- take a seat there, I’ll let you know.”
Wayne. Of course. Danny had completely forgotten in the mundanity of seeing Bruce so regularly that he was Bruce Wayne . Like the richest most influential guy ever, and basically owns Gotham. Which is where Danny was now. And he was also, very publicly, Danny’s father. Because Danny was Daniel Wayne. Brother to Dick Grayson (the IT boy of the century, second only to Bruce himself), Timothy Drake-Wayne (The fastest growing name in tech since computers were invented), and Damian Wayne (the mysterious and elusive heir to Wayne Enterprises).
“Right.” Danny finally squeezed out. “Ok.” He turned away before the lady could add anything else, Adam easily catching his mood shift and was right behind him.
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked softly, sitting in the same spot he had before. The seats were far enough that Danny couldn’t catch the conversation the lady was having on the phone, which meant she couldn’t hear them either.
Danny kneaded his lips together, “What if they’re only letting me try out cause,” he trailed not finishing the sentence. His shoulders hunched inwards, and Danny’s earlier excitement of playing hockey again was already muddled.
Adam hummed thoughtfully, “They might be.” Danny frowned at the confirmation, “But they’re try-outs, Danny. If the coach, whatever his name was, only lets you on the team ‘causea who your dad is, then you ought to know this in’t the team you need to join.” He gave Danny a light shove, “‘Course I’ll be watchin’. And if your coach in’t gonna give it to ya for sucking at a sport you haven’t played in 4 years, I sure as hell will.” Danny had actually met Adam a lot earlier than he’s become friends with Wes. The Weston brothers moved to Amity when Danny and Wes were in fifth grade, and Adam was in seventh with Jazz. Danny and Wes knew of each other, but they never saw each other enough organically to become friends. Until Wes figured out that Danny was Phantom and began trailing them. Not that that was entirely organic either. Danny had met Adam earlier than that because he worked at the ice rink Danny’s team used to practice at. Eventually Adam somehow managed to become one of the coach's assistants even though he was still in middle school, and they had a pretty decent friendship until Danny was forced to quit.
The lady’s heel tapped closer, and Danny settled for a thankful smile, and turned to see a shaggy looking man with deep gray eyes and a windbreaker in the same colors as the jerseys he’d seen earlier. He trailed behind the woman with a tired and annoyed look in his eyes, and seemed very bothered to be here. The lady reached a reasonably distance, and turned to address the man behind her, “This is Daniel W-”
“Danny, actually.” Adam was quick to cut in, leaning back in his chair easily.
“We don’t need introductions, Linda.” The man drew a board to be there, “He says wants to play hockey. I’m not gonna bother learning a useless name if he can’t even skate.” The lady, Linda, seemed horrified at the way the man was behaving.
“I know how to skate.” Danny didn’t like how childish his voice sounded. Trying to amend, he stood now that he was addressed, “I played hockey before, I was a defenseman.”
The man, presumably the aforementioned Coach Mark Adrian, eyed him appraisingly. “You said ‘played’.”
“I got into an accident a few years back and couldn't play.”
“Hm.” He nodded thoughtfully, “We happened to have recently acquired an opening.” He turned, with a small gesture for Danny to follow him, “You better be good enough to deserve ruining my break, kid.”
“My name’s Danny.” Danny jogged lightly to keep in pace.
“I don’t care if your name’s Budda.” He glanced back at Danny, “You didn’t bring any equipment.” They walked through a pair of double doors, and the temperature cooled.
“Uh,” Danny said dumbly, glancing at his empty hands as if they would appear.
“What’s your foot size?” The man walked behind the counter of the skate rentals, and handed Danny the one he needed. Once they confirmed they were the right fit. “Here’s a stick. You break it, and suffer the consequences. Noah’s not very forgiving.”
Despite the years since the last time Danny had played hockey properly, the warmups and exercises Coach Adrian made him do seemed to come to him naturally. Adam watched quietly from the stands. After the laps and the traveling with the puck and half court shots, Adrian finally stepped onto the ice. Tennis shoes switched out for skates, and a hockey stick in hand. “You score on me, you got the spot, no questions asked.”
Goal in mind, and in view, Danny was determined. Now that he’d actually tasted the ice shavings, and the momentum of skating that had made flying as Phantom almost second nature, there’s no way he was going to be denied. The puck was placed center court, and a sharp whistle and Adrian was in motion.
Danny had intended to have the puck first, but Adrian had managed to snag it, sticks colliding. Adrian skated towards his goal, but Danny was on his tail. Within moments they were locked in a close battle of ownership over the puck, the short seconds it was in Danny’s possession wasn’t enough for him to be able to switch to defensive. Adrian was clearly a seasoned player, but he was a veteran. And while Danny may have also been a veteran only minutes ago, he was a lot more agile and faster than the taller, larger and older man. In a split second decision Danny, instead of attempting to steal the puck back for the umpteenth time, knocked it away from both of their reach.
Adrian was thrown off by the unorthodox and very risky play, but in the time it took him to register what had happened, Danny had slipped right under his outstretched arm towards the stray puck. Adrian spun fast, gaining on Danny, but with his headstart and speed, the puck was clean in the net before Adrian made up the distance. Pulling that play in a game with multiple players would’ve been an incredibly risky move. But since this had been a 1v1, the move had ensured Danny’s victory.
He spun around, chest heaving lightly as Adrian approached him. “Welcome to the team, Danny.” He said instead of commenting on Danny’s decision.
Danny couldn’t stop the grin that split his face. “Is that my f*cking stick?” A boy yelled outraged from off the ice, dirty blond hair strewn messily on his head, an accusatory finger aimed at Danny.
“Stand down, Noah. I gave it to him.” Danny’s new coach vouched for him, giving him a light head gesture to follow him to the stands where the group of boys from the park had gathered. All eyeing Danny suspiciously.
Danny had barely made it to the barrier at the ice when Noah snatched the hockey stick out of his hand, “Get your own sh*t.” He hissed, green eyes venomous and turned away.
“Sorry.” Danny mumbled, the ecstasy of his victory evicted for shaky nerves and nauseous anxiety.
One of the taller boys, with dark hair and dark eyes, looked at Danny like he was a complex physics problem. He turned to coach Adrian instead of addressing Danny personally, “You let him score on you.” His voice was calm and even but that only made the accusation hit harder.
“I didn't let him do anything.” Adiran said almost offhandedly, satting down to take his skates off, giving his calves a small massage. Turning to Danny, “Practice is everyday ‘except Tuesday and Thursdays. 11 on the weekends, 5 on school days. Have your gear by tomorrow, or don’t show up. Leave your skates on the counter, I’ll see ya when I see ya.” Coach Adrian said all in one breath, while wordlessly telling the others to gear up and hit the ice.
Danny nodded, and Adam followed him away from the crowd of at best curious, but mostly annoyed and angry eyes.
“Coach, you can’t be serious.” One of the boys said appalled, initiating the chatter of backlash.
“He’s built like a dried up fry, he's gonna crack before the ice does.”
“Prelims are in two weeks, you can’t expect him to be any good before then.”
The tall boy from earlier spoke up, and they stopped to listen. “We’ll see if he’s any good when he shows up.” A pause, his back is turned to Danny but his words are pointed like Artemis’s arrows. “If he ever does.”
Coach added after a while, his indifferent voice seemed almost gentle amongst the animosity, “We’re short a player anyway. If you want to stand any kind of chance at the preliminaries, shut your yapping and hit the ice.” There were grumbles and groans, but they were muffled by the sound of blades skidding on ice and flying shavings as the double doors swung close behind Danny.
Danny showed up to practice Sunday morning at 10:26. He’d gone to get all the gear he would need. It felt surreal to be walking into the ice rink with a bag full of hockey gear, and Danny thought that maybe things would be good for him now. Maybe he could put Chicago behind him. Maybe he could forget what it was like to feel his core crack at its seams, and the horrible sight of green dripping into his arms. Maybe Waynes didn’t have Chicagos, and maybe Danny could be like them.
The guy driving the zamboni parked the large machine to the side, dipped his head in a silent greeting and headed off. Leaving Danny alone until practice actually started. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Danny put his skates on, lacing up the to-stiff material in the pattern he always did, and waddled onto the ice. After the GIW had the martial law lockdown a few months after the Pirah Dark incident, flying around as Phantom was a risk, even invisibility wasn’t enough to cover him anymore. After the months Danny had spent in the Realms with Firebolt, and saw exactly what he would be risking when he put his neck on the line for stunts he wouldn’t have given a second thought to before. It wasn’t a risk he wanted to take. Not anymore.
But the freedom that came when gravity would finally let go of its reins was something Danny sorely missed. Every feeling, every worry would melt away lost in the dust behind him, while they were bound by the rules of physics's dictatorship, he was free. A feeling that Danny could most closely replicate on the ice. It wasn’t the same, but it was close.
Danny had been so entranced that he hadn’t even heard the doors of the ice rink open, and hadn’t realized he wasn’t alone until he spun around and was met face to face with the dark haired guy from yesterday. The curious quizzical look hadn’t seemed to have left him, his sudden presence freezing Danny in surprise. Hoping to make a good first impression, Danny decided to try to be amicable with a greeting. The boy beat him to it, sticking out a hand, “I’m Asher, or Ash. Either’s fine.” His voice had an easy drawl to it, now that he didn’t seem repulsed by Danny’s presence. His accent didn’t match the ones the others on the team had.
“I’m Danny. Nice to meet you.” Danny took his hand to shake.
There was a little laugh, “Yeah, I know. Wayne, right?” Danny nodded again, “I’m the captain, and I play for defense. My number’s 23.” Ash turned easily to face the door when they sounded, and introduced the team member as they walked in minutes after each other. A boy almost a head taller than Danny, with unbrushed brown hair and equally dark eyes and pale skin, “That’s Benjamin Henderson, call him Benjamin or Henderson. If you call him Benji before says you can, prepare to get stabbed. He is one of the forwards for the second line, your line up.” Henderson headed straight for the bleachers and strapped his skates on, and didn’t even look in Danny’s direction when he got on the ice.
The ice rink only got more crowded with time, “That’s Keith Kartman,” Ash pointed out a dark skinned boy with ear length beaded dreadlocks, “He’s the goalkeeper. And over there,” Danny looked over at the pale kid, green eyes glaring at Danny, dark blond hair pulled out of his face in a half-updo. “Levi Evans, 65. He’ll be in the lineup with you.” Danny was becoming very aware as what looked like the whole team was notably taller than him, including the ones Ash had pointed out to be freshmen. Danny wasn’t short, he evened out with most kids in his grade, but he felt like a sapling next to the tall heaps of muscles he had decided to share a team with.
Ash had named all the other players, their positions and numbers but they had only landed in a jumbled mess in Danny’s head as he nodded along to the explanation. Most of the boys, a total of twelve not counting himself, were standing around lazily on the ice and doing familiar stretches until Coach Adrian walked in, coffee in hand. Moments later another boy ran into the room, his hopeful expression dropping as Coach turned around lazily to address him, “Y’know the drill, Hess.”
With a grown the blond boy slipped his bag off his shoulders and dropped into a plank position. Danny must have seemed confused, since Asher leaned his head down the distance to match Danny’s height, “Coach had a hard rule that you have to show up before he does, or you plank for every minute you're late.” Danny grimaced at the thought as he followed the rest of the team through their stretches and drills.
Danny would’ve had to be deaf and blind to not notice that his new teammates weren’t particularly excited to have him on the team, but none of them had outwardly expressed anything. Mostly just sending him annoyed or dirty looks and the occasional middle finger, and kept a wide breadth between themselves and him like they wanted to make sure Danny knew he was still an outsider. Message received.
“Danny,” Coach gestured for him to come closer, singling him out from the crowd of boys. He easily skated over to him, nerves bundlinging in his stomach. Once Danny stood by his side, he silently beckoned to the crowd again. Danny hadn't been sure who it was at first, but the look of annoyance on the Henderson and Evans who Ash had already pointed out to be his potential line members painted the picture clearly to Danny. “You said you played defense on your old team?” Coach questioned.
“Yes, sir.” Danny put his hands behind him so his nervous fiddling wouldn’t be obvious.
“I’m putting you on the forwards, second line. We’ve recently had an opening.” Henderson clicked his tongue at that, and Evans frowned. Danny remembered the conversation from the park. He gestured to the two boys on his other side, “Get comfortable, we’ll be having a practice round.” None of the three boys moved their spots on the ice after Coach skated towards the center of the small crowd and announced the mini-teams for their practice match.
Danny, Henderson, Evans were the forwards for their team, with Samuel Hess, and Harper Barton as their defensem*n. They were playing against Ash, and his co-defender, Logan Meadows, along with Noah Skinner, Liam Waterman, and Theo Velasquez. Keith was the goalie for Danny’s team, while Ethan Hudson, one of the forwards from the third line up, was the goalie for Ash’s team. Ethan’s other line-members had been assigned to work on their drill off the ice while they played.
As the puck ran its course around the ice rink, Danny was able to pick up on the particular skills of all his teammates. Ash, he had quickly noticed, had an almost unbreakable defense and was only made better by Logan’s steady hand and back up. Danny hadn’t been able to get the puck past them easily, Keith’s incredible skills as a goalie was all that kept them at bay. Despite their incredible defense, though, Noah, Liam, and Theo had a shaky line-up. Liam had a tendency to hesitate before passing which would lose them precious seconds, and leave him open to get the puck stolen from. Noah tried to overcompensate for that by always trying to keep the puck to himself which, naturally, could only get him so far. Between the two of them Theo, who seemingly had the most amicable distribution of ability of the lineup, but lacked Noah’s ferocity often was left in back of the pack. Ethan was clearly new to being a goalie, and while he managed to deflect a few attempts at the puck getting into the net, his movements weren’t optimal.
On his own team, Danny noticed that Evans and Henderson seemed much more comfortable passing to each other than their opposing forwards, but there was a large gap in their plays where Danny suspected a third member was expected to perform. Danny hadn’t yet learned of their planned maneuvers or attacks, and was lacking in cohesiveness with them. Hess and Barton, which did not have the same teamwork disparity as Danny's line-up did, were no match for Ash and Logan in terms of defense.
The mock-game had come to an end when one team reached 3 points. Danny’s team huffed at their loss, as Danny followed them as they gathered for the debriefing. Danny was pleased to find that most of his earlier observations had been mimicked by the Coach, as he pointed out their mistakes and told them how they should fix it. For the rest of practice, while Benjamin and Levi weren’t exactly singing his praises, they seemed notably less scornful of his presence on the team after the match.
Danny stood with Tim and Steph, waiting for Alfred to come pick them up from school. It had been a little over a week of Danny having joined the Foxes, and their first game of the season was coming up soon. And while Danny was no longer treated like dead weight, he hadn't exactly earned their favor yet. Of course, this wasn’t the most optimal outcome of Danny’s first time playing hockey after four years, but he was willing to accept his losses. If they really disliked him so much by the end of the season, he’ll just look into joining another team. Even if the orange, black and white jacket had quickly become Danny’s go-to.
Danny had been dragged back into reality by Tim’s hesitant voice, “So,” He started, “How’s hockey going?”
Danny blocked the sun behind Tim with his hand as he looked up surprised by the question. Tim hadn’t really brought up sports before, mostly sticking to video games, and various projects for filling conversation. “It’s good.” Danny answered, not sure why Tim had asked.
Tim paused before, “Do you um…” He tried unsurely, “Have games?”
Danny blinked at him, before a small smile formed realizing Tim had just been curious about his team. “Not yet, qualifiers start this Friday.” At Tim’s lost expression and scrunched brows Danny elaborated “Qualifiers mean you compete against all the other Gotham teams. After that the team that wins plays for Gotham, against all the other cities, so for state champion.” Tim nodded along, “Then if we can get that far, it's the national championships.”
Taking the explanation, “What team do you play for then?”
“Arctic Foxes.” Danny said, “Friday’s match is against the Gotham Bats.” Deciding to be more open with Tim, “I play number 17.” Alfred’s black car came into view a few feet away, as Danny continued. “Apparently the Bats usually win state, so it’s a pretty intense qualifier.” They slid into the car.
“How’s your team then?”
“They’re pretty good. I got to be center forward, so we’re practicing on, like, team integration and all that. Honestly, I was kinda surprised they put me in the second line. Figured I’d have to be a fourth or something for a while since I haven’t played in a few years.” Danny prattled on easily, fixing his bag by his feet before turning to face Tim. Danny laughed at the confused expression painted on Tim’s face, “Forwards are like the offensive position, we strike and try to score and stuff. Defenders, pretty obvious, defend against the opponent. And then goaltender. There's 6 players on the ice at a time.” He explained easily.
“Oh, so you play offense?” Tim summarized, after a moment.
Danny nodded, the thought of inviting Tim to come to his game on Friday filtered through his mind. Nerves that Danny had long since disassociated with Tim danced in his chest at the prospect. Tim might be busy, he had school, and his cases as Red Robin to work on. Why would he want to come to a random qualifier on some of his only down time to watch Danny? Despite his hesitancy, Danny decided to bite the bullet, trying to inject all the ease he could into his next words. “You can come to the game on Friday. If you want to see.”
Tim’s answer came easier than Danny had been prepared to receive. “I’ll be there.”
Despite the confidence Tim had assured Danny of his presence with, when Danny left the Manor after school that Friday he accepted the inevitable disappointment knowing Tim was sure to be busy with something else and not be able to make it. The first game of the season was in a stadium in central Gotham, Levi had taken the time during their bus ride from their usual training rink to the stadium to catch him up on what they knew about the Bat’s Hockey Team.
They were a relatively new team, only about ten years old, but they’d been Gotham’s final contestants, usually against the Robins. They were an incredibly well-funded team. And even though Levi didn’t seem happy about admitting so, the Foxes hadn’t given them too much of a fight in the years he’s been playing with them. Logan, Danny had learned was essentially the unofficial co-captain, had done his best to boost morale on the ride over, going over strategies they’d been practicing for the past few weeks. Coach had given them the promise that dinner would be on him if they won this game.
Inside the stadium, the large seating capacity looked disparagingly empty with a few people scattered around in the closest two rows. Danny pointedly didn’t look at their side of the bleachers, not ready to be faced with Tim's absence Danny was sure would be there. They geared up while the Bats were already on the ice, warming up.
They didn’t seem too curious about their opponents, many of them enamored in their own conversations. The Bats, Danny noticed, had more team members than the Foxes. Each of them already had their own jersey; black with yellow lettering and numbers on the back, and a play on Batman’s original Bat log pasted on their chest. The Foxes, lacking in such funding, had been reserved to older jerseys, with numbers and the team name instead of their individual last names in the back.
Coach had sent in Ash and Logan in for defense in the start of the game, the third line-up of forwards despite their own hesitance. The forwards consisted of Ethan Hudson, a sophom*ore and oldest of the three and the only one that had any experience playing hockey. Parker Colon, and Meteo “Matt” Mathews were freshman in highschool, and had only been able to play thanks to a program that Bruce had enacted for financially struggling families with “at-risk” youth. They did well in practice and tried their best, but of all the forward line-ups they were the weakest.
“Why are you putting us in first?” Parker asked, holding his hockey stick with a vice grip after Coach had told them to start the game. Noah frowned at the decision, but waited for Coach’s explanation.
Logan was the one that answered instead of Coach, “Starting a game isn’t any different than joining in the middle,” He said encouragingly, “And the experience will be good for you guys.”
“You’ll be setting the mood for how they perceive the rest of the team.” Ash said in direct contradiction to Logan’s placating work, earning him a look from the boy. Undeterred, Ash gave Parker and Matt an encouraging pat on the shoulder pushing them towards the gates of the bleachers and towards the ice. “It’ll be fine. Let’s go.”
The referee gave the signal that the game was about to start, and the five headed on the ice with Keith taking his spot silently in front of their goal. When they were out of earshot Samuel was the one that spoke up first, “If they do sh*t, we can use them thinking we’re bad to our advantage.” He concluded. Coach gave him an easy nod, not moving his eyes off the players on the field.
Sitting in the bleachers Danny tried to focus on the game and pick up on the other team’s play strategies, but the small voice in his head stroked his curiosity. And he wondered for just a sliver of a moment if Tim had actually found a seat in their end of the bleachers. And that second was all it took for his earlier resolve of not checking to crumble. Danny felt like the world had slowed down as he peeled his eyes off the movements on the ice where the Foxes were essentially getting bodied with Ash and Logan doing their best to defend the freshman and Ethan.
It only took half a second for Danny to find the boy that had been on August’s cover of Forbes at the young age of 16, and who Danny had only known through Twitter posts and youtube videos before a month ago. The black haired blue eyed boy was dressed in a casual hoodie (it was designer and easily cost more than a high-end computer) and slacks. A combination only Tim would think to make, and one only his popularity and influence could pull off. Behind him like a shadow was one Stephine Brown, as they both looked around the large stadium in search of something.
Daringly, Danny waved at them and fortunately Steph caught the action, waving back with twice the enthusiasm, she dragged Tim to the bleacher closest to where Danny sat. The unsuspecting middle-aged man that they sat a few seats down from, did a stunned double take at the model-esque teens next to him, eyes going wide. In the chilly stadium she zipped up her oversized jacket over her crop top, and tried to tuck her exposed legs into it. A tennis skirt probably wasn't the best choice of outfit for an ice rink. Greeting them with a cheek-aching smile, Danny turned back to watch the ice. Danny could feel the blood pump through his body with a new found excitement to show off his skills to his new siblings (Steph was basically a Wayne even if she hadn’t officially been adopted, but that was mostly because it would make her and Tim being ex’s really weird).
Parker, Matt and Ethan couldn’t really hold their own against the beast of the players number 56, 72, and 41 had turned out to be. Danny listened to Coach’s explanation of how they were planning to switch the third line up of forwards with the first once they reached the half point of the first half of the game. Noah, and Theo nodded in understanding, and Liam didn’t protest despite his visible hesitation. Samuel and Harper were eager to join the plays as well, and would replace Logan and Ash to recuperate before they would go in for the last half. Levi and Benjamin hadn’t been assigned a play-time yet, and would need to wait until after halftime. Danny wasn’t oblivious enough to not know that it definitely had to do with his late joining of the team. Holding his tongue, Danny waited for his turn to join the ice and prove that he wouldn’t drag his team down.
56 and 72 were hulks of teenage boys, easily over powering the smaller and less experienced Foxes line up by sheer force. That coordination with the puck itself left much to be desired in terms of skill, especially since 41 was much more adept and intermediate maneuvers. The Bat’s decisive players, 37 and 28, were easily able to stop any of the Foxes attempts at a point, and by the time Coach signaled the Ref for a play change the scoreboard had somehow managed to remain a 0-0 thanks to Ash and Logan’s backup and Keith’s fast responses.
The Bat’s players pulled off to the side with easy smiles and content laughs, not bothering to switch out themselves. Theo took the time to give the younger players a nod of acknowledgement as his own line-up took up the ice. The nervous and dejected players took the empty bench spots, as the whistle continued the game with the new set up on the ice. Danny glanced over at Matt who had ended up sitting right next to him, hands ringing together and nudging him with his elbow. Matt looked up at him confused and startled, “You did good.” Danny said easily, giving the boy a small smile. Matt didn’t respond and turned back to look straight ahead, hands sitting easily in his lap.
The disparity in skill that had been glaringly obvious in their first collage of players had been eased after the sub out. Noah, Theo, and Liam were much more seamless than the third line, thanks to the experience that the latter still lacked. Liam’s hesitance was still a hindrance and contrasted Noah’s decisive and aggressive plays. Theo and Liam were much more skilled at driving the puck than Bat’s 56 and 72 who’s heavy reliance on strength rather than ability only became more apparent. Noah’s sharp drives helped them against the more skilled 41. The forwards were much more matched in skill, and the same could be said for the defensive line up. Neither of them let the puck come close to the goal.
The time on the clock was draining, and it looked like Danny’s earlier conclusion on the Fox’s defense line-up being equally matched had been sorely miscalculated. The puck was coming dangerously close to the goal Keith stood guard at, 37 and 41 driving it against Samuel and Harper’s cracking defense. 56 came up ready to take a shot that made Danny’s stomach sink with anxiety, he took the clear shot and Noah managed to slip in a deflect it before it made it to Keith. But that hadn’t been enough to deter them, the clock down to only seconds. 72 stole the puck from Noah, and took the shot into the goal. Danny held his breath as Keith dove at the circle of black, and knocked it against the barrier just as the halftime horn blared.
Danny went to meet Benjamin and Levi where they stood. It was his turn to try to turn the tides. The Bat’s returned to their bleachers. Normally a team wouldn’t have the same players through the whole game, but as Danny watched the other team converse with it was clear none of the other line-ups were willing to go on the ice, likely citing that the Foxes weren’t a threat.
Proven right when the same numbers slid back on the ice in their black and yellow jerseys, Danny made a silent mental goal to score their first point in the time he’d been allotted on the ice before the first line up would be placed back. Samuel and Harper would be playing their defense, and Keith took his spot in front of the goal, his stoic ferocity contrasting the Bat’s easygoing air.
The beep sounded, and Danny could hear the distant cheer of his name, and he flew across the ice, in the shadow of his teammates. The Bat’s snickered and jeered, to try an intimate them, fake-yawning dramatically as the clock began ticking. The referee placed the puck and moved out of the way and they were going. Levi aimed for the puck, but 56 snatched it up, passing it to 41. Samuel had been nearest, and went to snag the puck as Danny raced after it with the pack. Samuel caught it but couldn’t keep it for too long, passing to Levi.
Levi drove the puck closer to mid-field trying to bring it closer to their goal, 72 was coming in to take a steal, his movements loudly projected, and Levi took the pass to Benjamin who was nearest but 36 dove in to intercept the pass. Cursing, Benjamin took off after him to reclaim the puck, Danny and Levi following close behind. Samuel and Harper tried to block the players from being able to receive.
The game leaned in no one's favor, and the few times Danny had gotten the puck he’d immediately had to pass it off in favor of keeping in his team. Sometime between getting on the ice and that very moment, the loud sound of the overhead air conditioning melted away along with the rest of his surroundings. It was just him and the puck. Filled instead with the sound of blades scratching the surface of the ice, the puck slamming against sticks and barriers but never the net.
There was a split second standoff when Harper had passed the puck to Benjamin, 56 coming in hot, Harper on his tail, and 72 chasing behind. Levi was blocking 28, but was covered by 36. Danny being the smallest had been overlooked, and they had taken to covering the larger, taller and bulkier players. Benjamin had a clear shot to Danny, and as soon as the puck landed against his stick, he started moving. 28 was the quickest to realize where the puck was heading, but was the furthest away.
Danny glided across the ice. The Bat’s goalie was unassuming, and if his posture was anything to go by he wasn’t paying attention. 28 was barely a hair behind him, and when Danny took a split second glance he caught an unidentifiable cloud of orange too. 36 pawed at the puck, Danny evaded easily, curving around so that he was behind him as well.
Danny looked at his goal, eyes zeroing in at the small opening the goalie had left. Any amount of logic would prove that taking the shot was a risk. The puck would have to slide past the long opening when any of the Bats could snatch it if they managed to be fast enough. And the opening Danny had been eyeing was only millimeters larger than the size of the puck not only making it incredibly easy for the goalie to block it, but even an ounce of misdirection would likely give the Bats the perfect opening to have the puck in their court.
The logic of the discussion flashed through his mind, but the puck was already on a blinding trajectory before Danny could think to reconsider. The world froze as the puck went for the opening. The back of the net was all that stopped its momentum.
Danny had scored. There was a moment of deafening silence. The buzzer rang and the scoreboard was updated from the old 0-0 to a 1-0 in their favor. Danny had scored! There was a rioting cheer from the Foxes bench, and behind them Steph and Tim cheered just as jovially.
The referee blew the whistle, meaning the other team had decided to switch out their players. 56 skated past Danny as they both retreated to their sides of the court, shouldering Danny harshly, knocking Danny to the floor. The referee sounded a warning whistle at the act. Samuel and Levi stared at the players down as they returned to their bench.
Danny huffed, annoyed with himself, and was about to push himself back to his feet. Silently, Benjamin offered him a hand. Surprised stared at it for a moment, and then gave him a thankful smile as the other boy helped him to his feet. Not exchanging any words, Danny was led to be showered with pats on the backs in the benches, as the first-line up of forwards and defensem*n took the ice.
The game was won with the Fox’s victory, 1-0.
---
Noah likes to think he’s a pretty sensible guy. He grew up in Crime Alley, he had to keep a level head if he wanted to keep his head. He knew Crime Alley before the Red Hood got around in it, and now he knows it after. Noah can tell the difference, it’s a good difference. But no matter how much one guy tries, no matter how many guns he’s got strapped to him, he can’t be everywhere all the time. Noah wouldn’t blame his scuffle with some up and coming gang in the Alley on Red Hood. He walked into that hell all on his own, and he’d own up to it.
For the record, Noah was not running away. It was a tactical retreat so that he could get some back up. He could throw a punch, but it takes one hell of a guy to win a 1v… like 20? He didn’t exactly have the free time to stand and count, but there were a whole bunch of voices shouting at him and twice the amount of feet hitting the pavement.
He’d call Theo. He’d get there before Noah started losing, and Noah trusted him to have his back. Noah pulled out his phone, familiar enough with the route to not have to keep looking, and dialed him. If he didn’t pick up, Noah wasn’t sure his phone had enough battery in it to call again. But Theo would answer, and he’d come. Noah was certain.
So when the phone makes the sound it does when the other person answers, imagine Noah’s surprise when it’s not Theo who answers. “Hello?” The voice is familiar, only slightly distorted by the phone and Noah’s running.
“f*ck.” It only took a glance for Noah to realize his mistake.
“Uh,” He called f*cking Danny. “What’s up, man?” The gang was on his tail. Noah didn’t skip out on cardio, but sh*t he can’t keep going.
“Nothing, f*ck. I meant to call Theo.” There’s no way Noah’s phone is gonna last for an explanation or a redial. “I’m kinda in a situation.” Noah tried to be quick, and told Danny his location. “Tell-” And the phone died. f*ck. f*ck. Dead end. f*ck. No f*cking way the kid who lives all the way down in f*cking Bristol is coming to Crime Alley at ass o’clock. And even if he did try, he’d only ever get here in time to host Noah’s funeral. sh*t.
With more confidence than he had, “Who wants to go first?” He smirks, balling his fists. He should have brought a knife. What was he thinking, leaving it at home? Noah held up a fight. Two of them were down, but his bruises were nothing to cough at. Breathing f*cking heart. Holy sh*t, he was actually about to die.
“Who the hell is that?” Noah heard one of the gang kids say, he was further in the back so it was hard to hear.
“What the fu- ugh.” There was the sound of the body hitting the floor. Noah only catches black hair, and thinks that maybe Danny had somehow known to call Theo. But unless he shrunk half a foot since last they met, that wasn’t Theo.
Noah didn’t have time to look the gift horse in it’s suspicious f*cking mouth. One of the guys came at him with a knife, and it only managed to nick his forearm as he knocked it out of the guy's hand. Noah easily beat him, despite the very sore ribs that were making it hard for him to twist left. But not even having time to gather his breath, Noah was back at throwing punches at the next guy that came at him. This guy had some pretty heavy punches, and after Noah managed to knock his eyes to the back of his skull, all he could do to keep himself upright was to lean on the brick wall behind him.
Clutching his side, Noah looked at the battlefield in front of him. He’d managed to knock out at least 7 of the guys, and Not-Theo who still had his back turned to Noah was taking on the last two that were still on their feet with plenty scattering the floor around him. One of the gang dudes came at Not-Theo with a punch to the face, but he saw it coming and moved with the punch. Instead of moving to the side, the guy dropped to the floor. Noah wondered for a moment if he had actually taken the hit. But the fall was too clean, and the guy landed securely on his forearms and pulled off a wicked-ass maneuver with his feet that managed to pull both guys to the ground and put him back on his feet in a matter of seconds.
And just like that it was him and Noah.
The guy turned around, and Noah, despite the pain, pushed himself off the wall to see what the guy’s deal was. Crime Alley kids got into fights all the time but not for other guys. Not for someone they didn’t know. And definitely not against people that ran in crowds that could pull an easy 20 count chase on one guy.
It took Noah a minute to recognize the kid. Because, hell, he was the last guy he was expecting to show up. “Are you alright?” Danny asked, leaving the bat he’d taken up as a weapon on the floor. Because Danny had been the one to take down the majority of the group when Noah had only managed 7. What the hell? He didn’t even look winded or hurt.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Noah asked more confused than accusatory, despite the edge he had tried to put into his words. What was Rich Boy Wayne’s Mystery Boy doing in America’s most dangerous city’s most dangerous district? Alone. In the middle of the f*cking night.
“You called me?” Danny tilted his head to the side like that was the most obvious conclusion.
“You showed up because I called you?” What the hell is this kid’s deal? Why would he come all this way just cause some asshole from his f*cking hockey team accidentally called him.
Danny was about to answer, but there was the sound of something hitting the pavement in the shadows. Noah’s blood ran cold. He’d never heard that sound in real life before, but everyone in Gotham knew what followed that sound. A Steel-Toed Bat. And there was only ever one Steel-Toed Bat that showed up in Crime Alley.
When Noah’s head snapped to the sound alarmed, Danny turned around in curiosity.
Heavy steps came closer to them, and Noah’s balance began to falter from his injuries. Danny was quick to heave an arm around him and hold him upright. Red Hood came into the light of the streetlight, his faceless mask looking over the littered bodies on the floor. He pushed the one closest to him with his shoe, and when he groaned in pain but didn’t wake up he looked at the two that stood above.
When the Hood didn’t say anything, Danny, the f*cking genious he is, “Are you just gonna stand there or actually do something?” He rolled his eyes. Yes, Danny, please, provoke the guy that usurped all the underground networks in Gotham in a matter of days.
“What are you doing here?” Red Hood finally asked Danny.
“ACAB.” Holy sh*t. Is he suicidal? Sure Red Hood didn’t hurt kids, but the classification of kid was still up for grabs. Noah was very aware that he, 6’ 1”, broad shouldered, age 17, could easily fall out of that classification. Danny was shorter and smaller, but he still looked an easy 15-16.
Red Hood to his credit, didn’t immediately put a bullet through Danny’s head. His shoulder’s shifted, and his head moved and he still looked at Danny, “I look like a cop to you, kid?”
“You want me to answer that?” A sound came out of the Red Hood helmet, it was distorted, and sounded static. Danny was about to get them both killed.
“Who’s that?” Red Hood nodded at Noah, walking closer to them. The guns on his belt came fully into view.
Danny looked at him, “That’s Noah.” Good, no last name. “He’s on my hockey team.”
Red Hood seemed surprised by this, “You’re on a hockey team?”
Danny shrugged, “Yeah. We had our first game on Friday.” Why were they talking about Friday’s game with Red Hood in Crime Alley surrounded by unconscious bodies?
There's a pause, then a grumbled sound again distorted, “You win?”
Danny smiled wickedly, and Noah huffed at the snotty answer he knew was coming, “Duh.”
Red Hood nodded in approval, then switched his attention to Noah, “You hurt kid?”
“No,” Noah tried to evade Red Hood’s incoming hand, but the movement caused a hiss of pain.
Red Hood conceded, “That doesn’t sound like you’re not hurt.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a bruised rib.” Danny was the one that answered. For how quiet he was around the team at first, Danny’s a real chatter when it comes to Gotham’s nefarious, apparently.
Red Hood nodded, and tried to get in a good look at Noah. “You’re Skinner’s kid?” He asked. Noah nodded at the title most people called his dad. “You want a hospital? Or I could ship you off home.”
“I can get there on my own.”
“You can’t even stand on your own.” Danny snapped, and Noah kicked him in the shin. There was a small “Oof.” from Danny but he stood firm despite the hit.
---
Red Hood and Nightwing sat perched idly on the rooftop watching the gang-of-the week take stock of their weapons before their “clients” showed up. It was nothing unusual for them and the boredom had started settling in after the first 5 minutes of nothing happening.
Jason remembered the call that Danny had gotten after he had crashed at his place a few nights ago, from his apparent hockey teammate. Jason, curious to know if had been the only one to not know about the development, “Have you been to any of Danny’s hockey games, yet?” Because no way was Jason about to let it be known he had been blindsided by the fact he was even on a team if Dick had known the whole time.
Dick turned to him, head sideways. The surprise in his features was confirmation to Jason that he wasn’t the only one in the dark. “Danny joined a hockey team?” He whispers-yelled in shock.
“He didn’t even tell me until one of his teammates called him.” Jason huffed in admission, glad to know he alone hadn’t been singled out, eyes keenly watching the exchange that was beginning under their watch.
“I can’t believe he didn’t tell us.” Dick pouted, then after a moment a grin cracked his face, “We should totally crash his next game.”
---
There was a knock on the door to Bruce’s study. A smile tipped at the corner of his lips knowing there was only resident that would still knock before entering. “Come in, Danny.” The large doors parted, just enough for the boy to comfortably slip through still in his school uniform. “How was school?” Bruce placed his pen down to give Danny his attention.
“It was good.” Danny said easily, “I think I can actually make it to class without getting lost now.” He laughed lightly.
“That's good to hear. And classes are going well too, I presume.”
“They’re actually not as bad as I thought they would be.” Danny answered honestly, finally standing at the other side of his desk and taking a seat. Danny had been tested for his class placements and the results had been pleasantly surprising, and he had placed in many classes higher than the average 16 year old, letting him share classes with Duke who would’ve otherwise been a grade level above him.
Danny knotted his fingers together in a manner Bruce had learned was a nervous tell for when he was preparing to say something. Letting him have the space to open up to him, Bruce waited patiently, happy to simply be in his son’s presence.
“We had our first game last Friday,” He started, looking up from his lap to Bruce hesitant to absorb every ounce of his body language. Bruce opened his shoulders, and relaxed his face to make sure Danny knew that his company was always welcomed.
“That’s right,” Bruce nodded at the memory of Tim and Steph telling him they’d be going. Bruce had considered accompanying them, but Danny had asked Tim personally to attend, and Steph and Danny had a relatively easy relationship and it made sense that she would attend without an invitation. Bruce, not wanting to test the acceptance of his presence there, had instead elected to wait until Danny had let him know that he was welcome there. “I heard from Tim that you were the one to score your team’s winning point.” Bruce smiled happily at the reconciliation.
The tension in Danny’s shoulders seemed to lessen that just a sliver, and eager excitement swam in his eyes. “Well, it was a team effort. But I do think I did pretty good.” He said humbly. The matching smile on Bruce’s hopefully prompted Danny’s next words to come out sooner. He cleared his throat, “Um, so.” His eyes filtered through the piles of papers and files that littered Bruce’s desk no matter how proactive he tried to be with the company work. “This, uh, Friday,” he began, “Do you have any plans?”
Looking at his digital calendar, “I do have a lunch scheduled with a few potential investors.” Bruce answered honestly, making sure to keep his voice neutral about the plan. Lucious had put that on his schedule only for his presence there to help his public profile be seen more pleasant. He could easily cancel or reschedule if his suspicions were correct and Danny had been intending to invite him to his game.
The hopeful look in Danny’s eyes vanished at Bruce’s words, and he nodded in understanding. “Oh, okay.”
Bruce forced away the confused frown that threatened his features at the reaction. “Why do you ask?” He prompted, trying to project his interest in Danny.
“Oh, no reason.” He dismissed it easily with a smile. There was a beat of silence where Bruce tried to recall which part of the interaction had not gone in Danny’s favor for the change in demure. “Um, Duke’s probably waiting for me. I asked him to help me catch up in one of our classes.” Danny said as a blatant excuse.
“Oh of course.” Bruce tried to be amicable, “My doors are always open for you Danny.” He tried to say encouragingly. Danny only nodded as he left, and closed the door to Bruce's entrapment behind him.
---
Danny had been helping Alfred in the kitchen, when he’d deemed dinner ready and sent Danny off to get Damian from his room. With a quick salute, Danny headed up the stairs to where he knew Damian’s room to be and knocked “Dami, Alfred says it’s time for dinner.” He called through the door.
After a moment, the door opened smoothly with Damian looking absolutely peeved to see Danny, glaring up at him. In turn, Danny smiled easily. “Daniel.” He hissed.
“Dami.” Danny was not one to back down. Then after a moment, “Alfred’s waiting.” He gestured his head to the direction of the stairs.
Damian pushed past him, pointedly unhappy about being forced to follow Danny’s direction. Danny couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the pre-teen’s behavior. They both walked into the dining room, empty except for Bruce, Alfred by his side. “Looks like it’s just us.” He commented quietly, taking a seat next to Damian instead of his usual spot further down the table or the empty seat on Bruce’s other side. Damian frowned at Danny, unhappy that he was sitting next to him, but there was just the smallest sliver of curiosity in his green eyes that made Danny not change seats.
Dinner had gone smoothly and quietly now that there were notably less people, and Danny’s mind wandered in the silence. Danny and Damian were full siblings, biologically. Meaning they had the same dad and mom, and they were a few years apart despite the very public news that they had split up after what had been understood as the death of their child. They had, clearly, despite the split kept in touch, if Damian’s existence was anything to go by. And given the open information that Damian had stayed with his(their) mother for the first decade of his life somewhere in the Middle East, it made sense that Danny had yet to run into her in New Jersey.
Danny knew that different couples dealt with divorces and splitting up differently. Adam and Wes’s parent’s despite being divorced, living in different states, and seeing different people, still had a relatively amicable relationship and Wes would often leave during the longer breaks from school to visit his dad in Tennessee where he grew up. Val, on the contrary, knew neither hide nor tail of her mom after her parents had a pretty nasty split in elementary school. Danny also was very aware that what people told the public, especially people as closely followed as the Waynes, may not always be the real truth.
In conclusion, Danny had no idea what to make of the glaring absence of the woman that was supposed to be his mother. Given the shared-to-everyone-except-Danny information of their secret identity, it wasn’t unreasonable that his mother may be involved in that lifestyle as well. Which only extended the possibilities of her whereabouts.
“What is it Danny?” Bruce’s voice snapped Danny out of his spiraling thoughts, he looked up to see both Bruce’s and Damian’s attention on him as Alfred retreated with their dishes.
Danny wondered if he should ask Bruce. Naturally, he would be the most reliable source. But how would Bruce react to the question? The topic of exes wasn’t exactly something most people were eager to discuss. Danny tried to get a read on Bruce, and prepare for any reaction he might have and be ready to deal with it. “Um,” He started “I was just wondering- if, um.” Danny picked at his lips unsure of the best way to ask a possibly intrusive question. Was he even allowed to ask? Was this one of those we-never-talk-about-this-ever category topics every family seemed to have?
“I’m listening.” Bruce prompted when Danny stopped talking. He gave Danny an encouraging smile, and a prompting nod.
He can’t do anything to you that you can’t handle Danny. You grew up with ghost hunters. So what if he’s the Batman? Danny squared his shoulders, Damian watched the exchange. Deciding to start from the beginning, “Well since, you said before, that Damian and I had the same mother.” Bruce took a sharp breath at the topic, but didn’t immediately stop Danny so he kept going, “I mean, I haven’t really seen much of her, I guess, or she’s not really around.” Danny wasn’t really sure how to phrase the question, “I was just wondering, I guess, um…” He trailed off, the look of constipation of Bruce’s face clearly meant he understood what Danny was trying to ask.
Immediately, before Bruce could even string together an explanation, “Mother is not dead.” Damian blurted, a pointedness in his voice directed at half a set of their parents. Bruce turned to level Damian with a quick look, but didn’t discipline him verbally.
That was more of an explanation than Danny was expecting to receive from Bruce now. Clearly they had some form of a sour relationship, and Damian was fully aware, yet Danny was pointedly being kept in the dark. Meaning this had something to do with their Furry Brigade and Accomplices. Their mother was not dead, if Damian’s reaction was anything to go by, but that was a coverup that Bruce would have been willing to use in Damian’s perspective. Knowing how astute he could be, it was likely a fair conclusion.
Bruce turned to Danny now, “Yes, your mother is not dead, Danny.” He tried to sound lighthearted, injecting an artificial ease in his tone, but his shoulders were not as lax as they had been before the topic had been broached. “We, simply,” He paused, thinking, “don’t see eye-to-eye on many things. Of course we knew that before we got into a relationship, but, well, emotions are as blinding as they are fleeting.” Danny watched Damian closely as Bruce spoke. And he clearly wasn’t happy about the explanation being provided to Danny, but didn’t intercede. Either the explanation was close enough, or Damian wasn’t willing to argue about it in front of Danny. “Your mother lives in a different country, which is where Damian grew up before he moved in with us. It would be difficult for her to make the trek here and back repeatedly as you can imagine.” Danny already knew that, but it seemed Bruce was willing to wager that to be a satiating explanation.
Danny didn’t say anything else, or ask any of the followup questions that were falling like shattered glass in his mind. He nodded, thanked Bruce for the explanation, the man accepted then excused himself from the table. Seemingly unaware of Danny’s suspicions. Batman was mysterious and notoriously hard to follow as Bruce Wayne’s every action was echoed through endless social media forums. It would be near impossible for Danny to find out who Batman had had relations with to cross reference with Bruce’s innumerous ones. Near impossible for anyone who wasn’t Phantom that is.
But Danny considered the other aspect of this. Of course he could go scouring the dimensions for the woman who had birthed him and his brother. But if she wasn’t keen on finding him, then it would all be for naught. Danny wondered if Damian ever talked to their mom, and if he had ever mentioned him to her. What had her reaction been? Would she have cared? The grave in the garden flashed in Danny’s mind. Beloved Son . Was he her beloved son? Was he her son in anything other than blood? If he was, then why hadn’t she come to see him? What if she just didn’t know- no, surely Bruce would’ve told her. Maybe since she had Damian, she didn’t need Danny anymore. Afterall since the Fenton’s had Perfect Jazz, Danny had only blended into the foreground.
Damian’s voice broke through the silence of the foyer they had been standing in, and broke Danny out of his thoughts. “I challenge you to a rematch.” He declared, crossing his arms and looking up at Danny with a confidence that seemed to be permanently embedded into his being.
“Rematch for what?” Danny asked, confused.
“I will admit,” Damian started in exasperation, “the football match you challenged me to last time had not gone as leisurely as I may have anticipated.” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. “I have since reflected on the experience, I would like to challenge you, formally, to a rematch.”
Had Damian really liked their little game of soccer that much? He’d even gone to practice, it seemed. Danny couldn’t stop the smile that creeped at his lips. The many sports Danny had been enrolled in when he was younger had been, now that he was looking back, his saving grace. Damian had Robin, sure, but Danny had given him soccer. Danny could still remember the anger that had poured through him those years ago, how he knew no one understood what he was going through. Not even Jazz, his own sister. But sports had always been different, his teammates didn’t need to understand, because just for those moments it didn’t matter. “You think you can beat me, huh?” Danny prodded challengingly.
“I know I can.” Damian insisted.
Danny laughed at the response that made it seem like a younger him had simply gone through a bout of time traveling. “I’ll go grab the ball.” Danny headed to get the one that sat idly in the corner of his new room.
“That won’t be necessary.” Damian’s words stopped him, “I’ve already prepared beforehand.”
“Lead the way, Boss.” Danny stood at attention with a mock salute. Damian scoffed at the show, fighting a smile as he stomped to the backyard.
---
“Three tickets please.” Dick gave the elderly lady behind the booth a pleasant smile, as he handed over his card. Jason eyed the distant concession menu hoping he could snag a burger before the stadiums filled. Damian, next to him, had a board frown on his face like they had forcibly dragged him there. Which they had not. Jason wasn’t even sure how the brat had found out he and Dick were planning on crashing, but he had strapped himself in the backseat of the car and refused to explain why. In fact, Jason had told him many times that he was welcome to not come, but the kid hadn’t moved an inch.
Snacks in hand and seats secured, the trio scanned the array of orange and black jerseys they knew to be Danny’s team colors. The matching helmets made Danny’s hair and eyes negligible as an identifier, but the W-A-Y-N-E lettering on the back of jersey number 17 could probably make up for that. Danny hadn’t seemed to notice them despite Dick’s pointing and jittering. “Look, there he is. Aw, he looks so small compared to his teammates.”
“He can use that to his advantage.” Damian concluded analytically, “The other team already seem to be underestimating him.” There was a deep frown on his face when one of the blue jersied kids purposely pushed against Danny as they skated past each other, and the trio snickered at something Jason couldn’t hear. Danny hardly reacted at all but the two of his teammates closest to him leveled the blue guys a glare. “It would be in Daniel’s best interest to not smear an embarrassing loss on the family name.” Damian crossed his arms and slumped into his seat as it looked like the warmups were ending and the actual game was starting.
The crowd was pretty thin, and Jason figured since it was still a pretty small game only a family and friends had come to watch. Jason was happy to know that they could easily be loud enough to cause a disturbance in the crowd and probably get Danny’s attention when the game started. Through the pointing and whispering, Jason figured many people were curious to know how a Wayne ended up on the ice, and it was only a matter of time until they noticed the ones in the stands too.
With a sharp whistle from the buzzer the players on the ice snapped into movement, Danny still in the benches with some of the other kids. The Polar Bears, the opposing team’s name according to some of the memorabilia Jason managed to spot while surveying the arena, seemed to be holding the puck easily in their grips from Danny’s active teammates.
A few minutes into the game, Damian huffed dramatically and plopped his head into his propper up hands. “How long is this supposed to be anyway?” He asked with every ounce of irritation he could manage.
Jason raised an incredulous brow at him, “Don’t complain when you basically kidnapped yourself here.” He chided the younger boy.
“Don’t worry Damian, I bet Danny will get his turn any moment now.” Dick smiled encouragingly, leaning back lazily in his seat for their cue to be Annoying As Possible.
“Tch.” He snapped his head away from both of them.
Just like Dick had predicted, it took until halftime for Danny to finally be allowed on the ice with his accompanying two teammates switching out the team with Noah. While they got into position so the game could resume from their halftime pause, the members of the Bears very visibly jeered and mocking Danny from the stands. “What’s their f*cking problem?” Jason hissed under his breath.
“Tch, those peasants better be prepared for their due retribution.” Damian snarked, finally perking up in his seat when Danny started skating on the ice.
The referee blew the whistle to start the game and everyone on the field snapped for the small black dot, “Go, Danny!” Dick cheered at the top of his lungs right after the whistle, “Woo!” The scream must have distracted Danny, and he got shoved out of the way by a Blue Jerseyed Bear, his head snapped at where the sound had come from in shock.
He stood still for a moment, and blinked at them before an excited smile seemed to break his features, before he sped off after the puck, “Tch, he’s such a child.” Damian groaned, feigning disinterest.
“Head in the game, Danny.” Jason snapped at him when he made too many unfavorable moves, and Dick finally gave his lungs a break. Danny got shoved out of the way, this time not by accident, by one of their opponents coming in for the puck, “Hey, watch it.” Jason’s anger only flared when the Ref stayed silent in his corner, “That had to break some kind of rule.” He pointed an angry finger at the striped shirt, “They pay you off or something?”
“Jason calm down,” Dick grabbed his arms, when Jason was finally about to go give the man a piece of his mind.
“We should wait until there's less attention on us before we strike.” Damian added, when Jason finally took to grumbling in his seat. Dick subtly disengaged the knife that Jason hadn’t noticed he’d slipped into his hands.
“Guys, this is a sports game.” Dick told them carefully, “I don’t like how he’s getting treated either, but maiming them is not an appropriate reaction.” Dick was about to say something else when Danny finally started dribbling the puck closer to their goal, and Dick watched with rapt attention, as did Jason and Damian. “Go, Danny!” Dick cheered happily as he got ready for his shot.
Danny got ready to go for the goal with a left sliding shot, and the goalie prepared for impact as the other Bears came in close. The puck went in from the right side, and slid smoothly past the goalie and into the net. Danny’s teammates' cheers were drowned out singularly by Dick and Jason, but the game wasn’t over yet and each team was eager to break the 1-1 tie.
The game finished with a too-close-for-comfort second point for the Fox’s, and Jason, Dick, and Damian, as huffy as always, made their way to where the team was standing about making light conversation right outside the doors of the ice rink, taking off their exterior gear and drinking water.
“Dude, do you like not sweat?” Jason could hear one of them say.
“Uh, no, actually.” Danny answered awkwardly, sipping at his water bottle. “Ice meta and everything, y’know.”
The first boy looked personally offended by the response, and another, “f*ck you, man.” He said without any real heat. The two boys with Danny noticed Jason and the two others approaching before Danny who had his back turned to them. “Looks like your cheerleaders are here.” He laughed sarcastically.
“Aw, you didn’t bring the pretty blonde this time.” The first guy commented, before walking off.
“You were so cool, Danny.” Dick was the first to gush, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.” He pouted lightheartedly.
“I didn’t think you guys would care,” Danny laughed lightly, and Jason noticed the shift in Dick’s mood in the split second it took him to cover it up. “I was really surprised when you showed up.”
“Of course we care.” Dick said animatedly, then with a smirk “Actually, this was all Jason’s idea.”
“Really?” Danny asked, surprised, turning to Jason for confirmation.
“No it wasn’t.” Jason denied, “But I can’t believe I had to find out that way.” Dick gave him a curious look, but Jason wasn’t about to let loose that Danny knew when Dick was so vehement about keeping it a secret despite what should’ve been his better judgment. The fact that he and Bruce seemed to agree on the matter should’ve been the first red flag.
Danny had the decency to look a little embarrassed, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by one of his other teammates, “Coach’s calling for post-game debrief. We’re getting fried chicken after.” The boy, Noah, turned his head to look at the three intruders, “You gonna be joining?” He asked after a beat. He seemed much more comfortable around them than he had with Red Hood but that was only natural.
“Uh,” Danny looked between them, and Dick gave him a small nod, “Yeah, I’m coming.”
Noah took a survey over them, eyes landing curiously on Damian, “I didn't know you came in a smaller size.”
The dark haired boy on Danny’s other side snorted at that, finally looking round the two older ones to peek at Damian. “Hey, if you skate anything like your brother, we got first dibs on you, kid.” He joked, lightly.
“Tch. As if I would ever need to know something as trivial as skating around on artificial ice. At least Daniel has yet to embarrass us with a depraved loss.”
The boy blinked at the reaction, “...Right.” They nodded, unsure.
“You don’t know how to skate?” Danny asked surprised, wide eyed at Damian. Damian didn’t correct him, and turned away in what Jason knew to be embarrassment, “We’re totally gonna fix that.” Danny nodded to himself.
Deciding to take his chance, “You guys weren’t too bad either.” Dick smiled at the other teens.
The dark haired boy preened at the compliment, “Yeah, well, y’know.” He shrugged without a shred of humility.
Noah just gave Jason a wordless nod, and turned to give Danny a playful shove, “sh*t face.” he said unprompted, without any malice. And turned back to where the coach was talking to one of the other players.
Laughing at the exchange, “Well, Noah seems nice.” Jason commented sarcastically and immediately realized his mistake when the aforementioned boy, still in hearing range, turned to look him dead in the eyes. Noah had met Red Hood not Jason. sh*t. That was such a novice mistake. He ought to know better than that.
At Noah’s reaction, Dick immediately caught on, but kept his composure. “How do you know my name?” He asked daringly. He could just say Danny told him, but Jason didn’t recognize any of the other players and it would definitely be strange if Jason only knew Noah. Unless he and Danny were just that close, which he doubted. sh*t.
Danny looked between the two, and just as Dick was about to talk their way out of this Danny fortunately decided to step in, “Red Hood probably told him,” What? No- “They’re actually dating.” Danny shut the f*ck up right now. Of all the things he could’ve said!
“What!” Dick gasped, unable to stop himself. Jason’s jaw fell slack. Their reactions though seemed to only prove Danny’s lie. “You’re-” Dick pointed a finger at him, letting his laugh sound shocked, “You’re dating the Red Hood?” He said loud enough for the entire swarm of teenagers to stop dead in their tracks and stare at Jason.
What the f*ck was Jason supoosed to say to that? No? Well yes that is what he should say, but his mouth could only gape like he was a fish out of water. “It’s kinda on the downlow.” Danny added at the beat of silence, facing Noah but speaking to the whole room with a fake f*cking innocence in his face, “I only found out because-”
Knowing this could only go downhill, Jason decided to intervene. “Shut up.” He snapped, and Danny immediately put his hands up in surrender, a shine of victory in his eyes as Jason realized what the implication of that was.
Dick, the performer he was born to be, gasped. “Jason.” Everyone's eyes still on them.
Jason pointed a finger shaking in anger at Danny, “We’ll talk about this later.”
Danny pushed his tongue into his cheek to fight a smile threatening his face, “Okay.
“We’re leaving.” Jason shoved Dick to the door, the silence of the room grating at him.
“So all those nights you kept sneaking out-” Dick started, laughter dripping from his eyes now that his back was turned to the kids but knowing they could still hear. The little sh*t did this on purpose.
Despite his embarrassment and shock at the time, with the day’s activities Jason eventually forgot about the encounter by the next dinner where he had made the mistake of showing up. Everything had been going fine. The food was great. Always was.
“Guys, I think Jason has an announcement to make.” Dick started loudly, and the table hushed to hear what it would be.
“Jason?” Bruce turned his head in intrigue.
Jason blinked at the mirth dancing in Dick’s bright blue eyes. The too long silence promted Tim to ask, “What is it?”
And it took until Danny added, “It’s more of a personal development.” In his pretend-encouraging tone, for Jason to realize what was happening.
“It’s nothing.” Jason gritted out.
“Aw, no need to be so shy.” Dick teased, coyly. He hated this family so much.
“What?” Steph prodded, always eager for drama.
“It seems Todd has become involved. Romantically.” Damian, who had silently witnessed the entire encounter, spoke up.
“What? Who would date you?” Tim asked, truly shocked. Jason could totally date someone, f*ck you, Tim.
“WHo is it?” Bruce asked, genuinely surprised.
Jason refused to answer.
“C’mon Jason.” Danny smiled encouragingly. This all started because of him. Everything he would do for that little sh*t, he really decided to just push him off the deep end, huh. Knowing full well Jason would be the last to let them know that Danny already knew their identities according to Phantom, and make their lives even a shade easier.
“Tell us!” Steph now, eager, “Is it someone we know?” Meaning a vigilante.
“I’ll tell them, since you're obviously so shy about it.” Dickface had a sh*t eating grin on his face, all heads turning to him, “It’s the Red Hood.”
“What- but Red Hood is-” Duke started confused, before looking right at Danny and realization dawned on him, “Oh my god.” He breathed in realization, turning to point an accusatory finger at Jason, “You’re dating the Red Hood.” He breathed.
f*ck him, and his life.
---
Danny and Damian had originally made plans to go to the ice rink in the park when it first opened on Monday, but it seemed Damian had not been aware that they only rented out used ice skates. He vehemently refused to even come close to that, citing sanitation, and their day had instead been busied in finding Damian his own pair of ice skates. Danny had decided to make a day of it, and they instead would go to the ice rink the next day.
The next day Danny already had plans to meet up with his group for a project they’d been assigned in one of their classes after school, and wouldn’t be free until around 5. So Danny had taken both of their skates with him to school, in case Alfred wouldn’t be the one to drop Damian off later, and ignored the curious looks his schoolmates were sending him.
After his group disassembled, Danny was quick to make his way over to Gotham Central Park, Damian due to arrive any minute. But of course nothing ever went smoothly for Danny. Just as he had been making his way to nab a spot in line to get a ticket, a volley of lasers were sent up around the perimeter and a deep resounding static echoed through the loudspeakers. Someone just hijacked the park. Who even hijacks a park?
“Hello, afternoon goers.” The voice said as the static subsided, Danny wasn’t sure he recognized it, but it didn’t seem to matter, “This is your favorite Rouge here,” a pause for dramatics, because he was a Gotham rogue, “That’s right, the Riddler. And well, by the looks of it you all are out for a little bit of fun, and I thought, ‘hey, why not join in, and have some fun myself’.” The people in the park stood carefully still, not sure if it was even safe to run, many of them snapping on their gas masks preemptively. In his peripheral view Danny caught a streak of yellow and another of black and red swing by, “And it looks like my friends made it here just in time. Welcome, Signal, Robin. Please, join us.”
As the Riddler explained his genius game to the hundred of captees, Robin who made his way from speaker to speaker scanning the crowd for, by Danny’s assumption, goons or any potential explosives. But to his surprise, Robin jumped to switch from a few speaker posts, until he decided to stand a messy few feet away from him. He didn’t acknowledge Danny throughout the whole not-exchange, and Danny probably would’ve chalked it up to coincidence if he hadn’t had the opportunity to know the boy under the mask.
Signal had busied himself with corralling the civilians to a safe location away from the ice rink, which evidently had been made center stage by Mr. Riddler himself. The crowd had quickly thinned, and Danny couldn’t think of a suitable excuse to not follow them. Signal seemed quite hesitant to approach Danny, and Robin even refused to look in his direction.
“D- er- Mister,” Signal finally had to bite, as Robin went to go inspect for clues. “It’s not safe here, you should evacuate with the others.” There was a pause, and his hand went up to where his earpiece might be, “I’m sure your family, whoever they are, not that I- um- know them personally, are very worried about you. And your safety.” Then a beat passed, Danny was about to speak, but Signal quickly started again, “I would assume that they were worried, because I assumed that you have a loving caring family. And loving caring families don’t keep secrets from each- I mean they’re definitely very worried about you. Not that I asked. Because that would be silly. Ha. Ha. So- So silly. You should go. Person. Who I definitely don’t know personally.”
Danny decided to intervene, for Singal’s sake more than his. “He said the clues would be hidden on the ice, I can skate.” Danny pulled up the larger of the two pairs of skates in his hands to show, “I’m pretty good, and I can go fast. I can definitely help you guys.”
“No-” Signal said almost immediately, “They’d definitely kill me if I- I mean um- It’s too dangerous to involve a civilian.”
Danny frowned at that. “I’ll be fine.” Already fastening the last belt of his skates. The Riddler was hardly a real threat to Danny, even with having to pretend to be fully human.
“Do not overstep, this is out of your jurisdiction.” Robin spoke up for the first time since he’d clearly been following Danny.
“And you, what, have a warrant?” Danny snarked, when neither of them could refute that, “If it means that much to you,” He let out a sigh when Signal was clearly fretting the situation, “I do have another pair,” He showed Damian’s brand new skates with the tag still on them. “They’re my brothers, and he doesn’t really like other people using his stuff, but I guess I’ll just have to make it up to him later.” Robin’s footing shifted slightly at the admission, “If they fit,” and they would, “You can wear them for the time being.” Damian had gone through the store's entire selection of ice skates before finally landing on the ones he’d liked. It had red stripes in various shades identical to Danny’s except his were blue.
Robin was hesitant to accept the skates from Danny, but he relented, and slipped them onto his feet. “It’s such a coincidence that Robin just so happens to have the exact same size as your brother?” Signal said loudly, a nervous laugh in his voice, “Your brother, who may possibly be scheduled to be here any second now. Not that Robin-” Robin tried to stand up in his new skates, and stumbled, Danny suspected on purpose, elbowing Signal right in the gut, effectively shutting him up.
“Don’t stray too far from me.” Robin said in an authoritative tone as they both made it onto the ice.
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Danny nodded, and then paused in thoughtfulness before turning to Robin in projected curiosity, “You do know how to skate right?” he asked pretending like he didn't already have the answer.
Robin's head turn was only a little rigid, “I suppose it never came across in my training.” he admitted quietly.
“Really?” Danny feigned surprise, “My brother doesn’t know how to skate either. You guys have a lot in common.” Robin stayed silent, but followed Danny prompts on how to skate as they found the clues on the ice while Signal searched everywhere else. Robin was quick to pick up the skill, and was able to keep up with Danny’s slower pace as they searched. Danny had been quick to catch Robin when he inevitably lost his balance. He made sure to keep the mood light with conversation and jokes, since Robin was clearly getting uneasy staying with him for so long.
Robin and Danny had finished searching before Signal had made his way back to them, and were left to wait for him. Robin, who had stayed a lot quieter than Danny knew Damian to be, “You seem to speak of your brother often.” He finally said, his voice quiet.
Danny tilted his head thoughtfully, “I guess I did.” he admitted easily.
There was a thick silence before Robin spoke again, “You,” he started, a nervous edge in his voice that made Danny listen closely, “seem fond of him.”
“I am.” The words left Danny without much thought. The speedy answer seemed to not be what Robin had been expecting, his head snapping at him and eyes trying to decipher Danny’s tells, “He’s my brother.” Danny shrugged without any further details, unbothered by the heavy gaze on him.
Robin blinked at him, body locked in place, and any emotion hidden by the whites of his domino mask. Signal landed softly in front of them, ending the conversation. They shared their findings, and the riddle was solved easily enough.
A few short moments passed before the spots next to Danny where the vigilantes had been only seconds earlier were filled by Damian and Duke. “I didn’t see you during the Riddler attack.” Damian said in lieu of a greeting, “Are you hurt?”
“No, I'm alright. Funny story, actually, you’ll never guess who I just met.” Danny pretended not to notice Duke squirm behind him, and quickly said that he had to leave to do something else.
Damian and Danny were quick to get on the ice with a still-thin crowd, “Woah, Damian I thought you said you didn't know how to skate.” Danny complemented easily.
“I don’t.” Damian answered defensively, and a little too insistent.
Danny decided to ignore it, “I guess you must just be a natural then. C’mon.” Challenging Damian to go faster, knowing he would have to listen to Tucker debrief him the internet’s version of what went down during their bi-weekly factimes.
---
Tim had arrived at the designated stadium about 30 minutes before any of the teams were scheduled to show up, right as the cleaning crew was finishing up. He snuck into the supply closet while no one was watching and slipped on a discarded janitor's uniform and confidently made his way into the stadium Danny’s game would be playing on. A few of his “co-workers” gave him quick “hurry up”s and “make it quicks”s since the news crew would be setting up soon. Tim nodded, and quickly went to the benches he knew Danny’s team would be assigned, and planted a little listening device there, and wired it to a secondary frequency he could sync with their comms. Making quick work, Tim left the stadium and waited at a nearby cafe until the others showed up.
They reconvened in the open concession area before going into the stands together. Since they had come in their civilian identities, per Tim’s recommendation, it would make more sense for them to be seen arriving together than separately. Most hockey games lasted around 60 minutes, and then assuming it took them 30 to get geared up, they’d still be able to make it to the sight of their case in time.
“Why do you think the perp would be at a junior league hockey game?” Dick asked, munching on some popcorn. Bruce waited expectantly for an answer next to him. Neither of them have caught on to Tim’s scheme yet.
Damian raised a brow at them, likely already having figured out the plan. Tim spoke before the brat could expose him, “Keep your eye on number 17 on the Fox’s team.” He said cryptically, leading them to their seats. He’d wait to connect their comms after they realized who they actually came here for.
At the hint Dick just widened his eyes in realization Jason, Damian, and Steph had no reaction, already knowing of Tim’s scheme. Bruce, still none the wiser, watched the players skate around the ice warming up as more of the crowd filtered in. He found the player wearing number 17 before he saw the lettering for the last name above it, and immediately swiveled his head to Tim demanding an explanation.
Tim crossed his arms, keeping his eyes on the ice in front of him and his voice low so no one else could hear, “I said that ‘one of our main POI will be there’” He gestured vaguely to Danny, “I didn’t say it was a POI for the case.” He let that settle in before, “I wasn’t gonna let you guys blow him off for a second time.” He said pointedly alluding to the time Danny had caught them in their impromptu briefing about the very case they were busting in a few hours.
“I didn't even realize…” Dick muttered to himself, a look of guilt heavy in his features as Bruce sat rigid in his own seat.
Tim supposed that he could understand where Dick had been coming from. If any of the rest of them had wanted the family to show up for them, which wasn’t often but not never, they would be loud and boisterous about it. Demanding even, knowing their right to be supported despite whatever case may be brewing in the background. And when they received explanations or rationale on why someone couldn’t make it, it was honest and usually had lives at stake, not obvious lies about business meetings and displaced butlers. Even apart from that, Tim had noticed how Danny seemed to assume that he would be a plus one to their plans, an addition that while welcomed wasn’t always warranted. Tim had noticed, because he knew what that was like.
Bruce had been given everything he could’ve ever wanted growing up, just by mentioning it in passing, because everyone was always watching him. Dick had gone from an only child buttered up in a circus to an only child buttered up by the entire country. Jason, while maybe not having the most attentive parents, had always been easy to declare when he wanted something. Damian, it was needless to say, but he grew up with the opposite problem to Danny and Tim, having more attention than he would be healthy, as an heir to the League of Assassins.
Tim had to fight to get any attention. He had fought his way into Robin, and fought his way onto the Young Justice. Tim had fought and won, so he kept fighting. But Danny hadn’t won enough to make him keep fighting. So Tim would just fight for him until Danny knew that there was something to fight for .
This game was different to the other ones Tim had gone to, the stadium was at least double in size and all the seats were filled. They had luckily managed to get seats close to the ice, right behind the camera crew who had yet to notice their presence. The camera crew was also a new addition, and the announcers that came with that. It was clear this game was a bigger deal than the others had been. Which was probably why Danny had attempted to have them there.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Gotham’s Regional Semifinals where we find the hockey team that will be representing Gotham in the upcoming Statewide Championships. For the past 3 years we’ve had matchups for the same teams in the semifinals, but it seems this year things are a little different.” Tim hooked the others into the listening device he planted in the sands and the hushed voices of Danny’s teammates filtered into their ear.
“That’s right, James. This year's line up has been usurped by a new team, the Arctic Foxes, who knocked out the usual competition of the Gotham Bats out in their very first qualifiers. And there have been a few interesting rumors going around about the Foxes and Wolves.”
“Word on the street is that one of the Wolves star players was originally a player for the Foxes. And if my sources are right, it’s the Wolf’s new number 71, Blake Green,” The crowd listened intently to the explanation, “But wouldn’t that mean that the Foxes are down a player? How did they manage to get all the way to the semis then, Scott?” The large camera panning over to show off the teams.
“Well James, it seems like luck was on the Fox's side. They managed to not only find a player to fill their spot, but it’s none other than Bruce Wayne’s most elusive newest addition.” The camera shifted to Danny, who looked surprised to be mentioned, “The lost son seemed to have found his way right in the ice rink.” Some of Danny’s teammates jeered at him jokingly and tried to get themselves in front with him, but the camera was quick to move away. Tim and the others could hear the kids joking around with each other while the announcers talked and got the crowd invested in the game.
“We’ll show that jackass not to mess with us.” One of the boys hissed angrily after the camera left.
“No way we're gonna let that deserter have the satisfaction of scoring on us.” The others make sounds of agreements. They must be talking about their ex-teammate. His leaving must not have been amicable then.
“You gotta play twice as hard, Wayne.”
“Yeah, show them what you’re made of.”
“Alright.” Danny laughed along easily.
“Oh look Ethan,” Tim could make out one boy pointing to somewhere on the stands. Another boy, presumably Ethan, looked in the direction, and waved at an older woman and a girl in the stands.
“Crazy they could make it.” A boy from before spoke, his words pointed, “To what may or may not be our biggest game yet.”
“Benji, let it go.” Danny said, annoyed in a way that made it clear that they had discussed this before.
“I just think it’s pretty wild how all of them just had a perfectly crafted excuse to not come.” Benji said gruffly, and the look of guilt that was plastered on all their faces as they listened to the conversation didn’t seem like enough retribution.
“Even after you literally asked them, too.” Another one piped in.
“You guys are more pressed about this than I am.” Danny laughed dryly, “Besides, it’s not like I actually expected them to show up, anyway.” A gut punch, but well deserved.
“Dude, who hurt you?” Them, apparently.
The announcers began concluding their introductions, “-and without any further ado,” at the cue the camera panned over the crowd to get their reaction, coincidentally gliding right in front of the full house of Waynes. “Was that the Waynes?” The announcer’s voice shifted into pure shock forgetting whatever he was about to say. At the words, Danny’s head snapped around to look at the screen, even from his seat Tim could see the surprise on his face. As he turned to scan the crowd his eyes snapping to Bruce and Dick then the other. The announcer cleared his throat, “Well, let’s get this game started, then.”
“Surprise, I guess?” Ethan laughed lightly.
They couldn’t see Danny’s reaction since he turned around with the beeper signaling the start of the game. Their coach instructed the first batch onto the ice, and Danny and a few of his teammates headed through the gate and onto the ice. The game had started off like any other, and the whole line of Waynes made sure to show their favorite player their support.
Number 71 from the Wolves, was always on Danny’s tail, which Tim thought was a little strange since he was an offensive player like Danny. He supposed it had been some kind of strategy the other team had cooked up since 71 seemed to be so much larger and bigger than Danny. But Danny had easily managed to out maneuver him. As the timer ticked number 71’s plays only seemed to get more and more aggressive and targeted.
Tim had only noticed the buildup in hindsight. 71 had the puck and was surrounded by the Foxes ready to steal the puck from his team, and intercept the pass. From Tim’s spot he calculated that the most safest pass would likely be to the Wolve’s number 53, since he was the least guarded. While Danny was squarely blocking the third offensive player. The other Foxes were ready to speed off in any direction, and the offensive Wolves were watching them like prey.
71 took the shot. But he didn’t aim for 53. And he hadn’t tried to get it to any of the other Wolves either. With what might have been a show of skill in any other context, the puck landed squarely and hard at Danny’s face. So hard, in fact, that it sent not only Danny down, but also the Wolf behind him.
The referee was quick to step in, stopping the game. Danny’s team outraged, the ones in the stands throwing curses and threats, while the ones on the ice were actively behind and held back by some other people in uniform. 71 looked down at the stunned Danny with a mocking smile, clearly proud of himself despite the penalty. The hit had been aimed cleanly at right under where Danny’s helmet ended, so it made direct contact with his nose. It was probably broken.
The announcers expressed their shock as both teams were made to return to their benches. The Fox’s coach met Danny right in front of the teams benches, and talked to him while the medic made his way over. The whole line of off-duty vigilantes watched in a quiet anger, knowing there wasn’t much any of them could reasonably do in the situation. Most had just taken to yelling curses and threats (Jason and Dick), while others took to quietly plotting the demise of his entire lineage (Steph and Tim).
They listened closely to what Danny said to the coach and medic. “I’m fine, really.” He sounded more exasperated than anything.
“Your nose is clearly broken.” The coach, presumably, insisted.
“Sit down so I can take a look at it. It’ll probably need a stint.” There was some shuffling.
“You’re gonna put me back out there.” Danny said, insistently, “Right?”
There was a pause, “Let’s see how bad it is first, kid.”
“Pretty sure I heard a crack.” Someone said despairingly, sounding worried.
“Shut up.” Someone else hissed.
“Sorry.”
“This will need an x-ray, but I suspect at least mild fracturing. Danny, I'll need you to come to the on-site exam room with me.”
“No, really. It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Danny tried again.
“You can’t play with a fractured nose, Danny.” the coach said firmly. The other boys listened with a hushed whispering Tim couldn't catch.
“I suspect the lack of pain is simply from the adrenaline rush.” Danny didn’t say anything. And Tim watched from the cameras as Danny was led away from the bench by the medic. “You can leave your gear here for now.”
Danny handed his gloves to the coach, his stick still by the bench where he had been sitting. “Your helmet.” the coach reminded Danny after a moment. And without any of the calmness he had been expressing before, he threw his helmet into the bleachers, a silent anger growing in his face, obvious even in the distant camera.
The resounding thud, made them flinch to the comms, and there was static for the duration of Danny leaving the rink. The announcers chattering away in their mics, and the crowd joining in.
“He’s pissed.” A teammate whistled.
“Obviously.”
“Well, it’s just, I’ve never seen Danny pissed.”
“Nose-goes for whoever tells him to turn the chill off.”
“It’s not even that cold.”
“You’re literally shivering, Noah.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Are you gonna let him play again, Coach?”
“I don’t think I have much of a choice, now do I?” there was an edge of eagerness in his tone. The game continued despite Danny’s absence.
Bruce, Duke and Dick had gone to see Danny in the infirmary, while the rest of them watched the match not wanting to overload the staff, and were promised updates. By the time Danny had returned to the game, nose clearly stinted and bandaged, the Foxes were in the lead with an unexpected 1-0. And by the end they won with a blistering 3-0, both of the others earned by Danny with a point to prove. The crowd loved it, and the absolute defeat the Wolves clearly felt gave Tim a little satisfaction.
Only a little, though.
After the game, Jason, Dick and Tim hung back while the others went to suit up, the unexpected turn of events in the game messing with the original plan. They would join him after a quick congratulations. That had been the plan at least. When they got down to where both teams were filtering off the ice, casually conversing among each other about whatever was reasonable to speak about after a match.
Number 71, it seemed, had not been able to take out all of whatever vendetta he had against Danny on the ice. And while Danny’s back was still turned to him, and none of the Foxes paying the Wolves much mind, aimed a full fisted punch at Danny’s head.
Jason, Dick and Tim had all noticed just as 71’s plan was launched into action, but still much too far to be able to intercede without their gear. Dick tried to warn Danny, but there was nothing they could do but watch.
Watch as Danny moves his head clear out of the way, circling back up to punch 71 square in the jaw with a nasty uppercut. 71 stumbles back in shock and the force of the impact, a bruise blistering on his chin now. Danny grabbed him by the collar of his jersey, and dragged him down from the notable height difference to have them nose to broken nose. “If you wanted a fight, you could’ve just asked.” Danny smiles sickly sweet, voice dripping in a vicious sort of anger. And Tim saw the Danny that was Talia’s first son, the one, who if it were known he was still alive, would have been the heir to the Demon’s Head.
“Replacement.” 71 spat in Danny’s face, despite the hesitancy in his eyes.
Danny let go in disgust, but before he could react his teammate stepped up, the name Henderson across his back, shoving 71 out of Danny’s face. “You have no right to say that. Deserter.”
“Benji,” 71 started, startled “you’re seriously defending him?”
“Don’t call me that, like we're friends.” He snapped back. “We’re not.” The Wolves and Foxes both watched the interaction, waiting for their sign to jump in.
71 looked like he was going to say something else, but he saw the three had made their way right behind the Foxes. And even if Tim wasn’t as physically intimidating as some of the players, anyone would think twice before leaping into a fight with Jason and Dick. 71, understanding he couldn’t win even with the other Wolves willing to step in, took a retreating step back.
71 looked at Danny, blue-gray eyes clear and stormy with a rage hidden just under the surface, fist balling into a fist before remembering their surroundings and turned around. “Freak.” He muttered.
Tim saw Danny’s shoulder twitch back at the word, a reaction so small he almost missed it. Dick already held Jason back from getting into a fight with a volley of kids much younger than them, but Tim didn’t hold the same reservations. Jason was not far behind as the other players moved into action. With mobility that likely wouldn’t be expected from him, Tim landed a punch square in 71’s jaw with a satisfying crack, not caring about the cameras watching.
Helen of Troy may have been the face that launched a thousand ships, but Blake Green was the jerk that launched a thousand punches.
---
The case had gone as planned, and the gang had been dealt with. The bats had one final meeting in the cave before they would head upstairs to check on Danny.
“Why’d it take you guys so long to meet up with us, anyway?” Steph asked, absentmindedly braiding her hair, and her gear half removed. She didn't really care what Bruce had to say about procedures of uniform in the cave, she was not going to risk getting another acne breakout for his stupid rules. Sweat, and a full face mask were a diabolical combination for teenage girls. Not that anyone else except Damian had been weaning their masks anyway.
Much to her surprise, it was Babs who answered over the speaker of the BatComputer, “Oh, let me answer that.” Her tone filled with barely hidden agitation that told Steph the answer was juicer than she had been expecting. The screen shifted away from the case file and onto a video with thousands of views. Bruce sent a look of ‘What did you do now’ to the three that had stayed behind, since they clearly knew a renewed scowl on their faces.
The video started off with all the hockey players filing out of the ice rink when the game was over. Neither team acknowledged each other. The Foxes, happy as with another victory were playing around, while the Wolves stayed in a forlorn silence at their loss. Steph wasn’t sure what exactly had initiated the action, but one of the Wolves, she recognized him to be the one that had smacked Danny in the face at the start of the match, went in for a punch while Danny’s back was still turned.
Bruce seeing the action before Danny at the time, stiffened. As the video played out Steph let out an impressive whistle at the move Danny pulled, righteously angry at the wannabe assaulter. Words were exchanged, and clearly the Foxes had some long standing beef with the guy. But it hadn’t been anything of note outside of a team to team aggression that was common in many sports, especially hockey.
That was until the bastard called Danny a freak. Duke, who had been fighting to remain conscious during their whole debrief, flinched. Even the boys behind Danny, with matching jerseys looked stunned at the comment. Danny’s face was fully visible on the screen, and it had remained unshaken by the word. If it were anyone else, Steph would’ve thought it didn’t bother him.
But Steph knew how an unbothered Danny would react. The unwavering confidence, and unending self-assurance gave Steph a lot of leeway in the things she could say to Danny without either of them being seriously hurt. And Steph took full advantage when she realized how large her new playground was. No matter what she said, she’d just earn a scoff, or a laugh-along, an eye roll, or a “Seriously, Steph?” along with various sarcastic comments or some combination of them. But there was always a response. And the carefully still face that didn’t react wasn’t it. And sure Steph said some pretty bottom of the barrel sh*t to him, but she got that right because she was Steph and he was Danny.
Who the hell was this Sid the Sloth Cursed Version to talk to Danny like that? If she had been there she would’ve-
Well it seemed like her presence hadn’t been required. The crack of Tim’s punch at the guy echoed through the still room, satisfyingly. The other players joined in soon enough and it was a whole brawl with the match officiants needing to step in while the Fox’s coach pointedly did nothing to stop his players.
The video ended with the silence ]echoing in the cave. The urge to go out in her Spoiler suit and give that piece of sh*t a piece of her mind was strong. Acne be damned. But Danny was upstairs by himself after the whole day of events. It seemed they had all reached the same consensus, wordlessly changing out of their uniforms quickly and going upstairs, not minding the mass in which they appeared.
Within moments they were face to face with a frazzled (by Alfred standards) Alfred with a plate of cookies in his hand. “Alfred, what’s wrong?” Dick asked, eyebrows etching together.
“It seems… that Young Master Danny has been displaced.”
“What do you mean, Alfred?” Bruce asked, worry heavy in his face.
“Young Master Danny returned a little over an hour and a half ago to the Manor,” He recounts, “and he seemed quite disengaged despite his reported victory.” For reasons obvious to any of them, “He’d returned to the kitchen while I was still preparing these,” He gestured to the cookies, “And informed me that he would be going out to clear his head. The gates haven’t been opened or tampered with by any measures, and none of the security details indicate that anyone has left or entered the Manor. Yet, the Young Master seems to have disappeared.”
A heavy silence loomed over all of them. “Do you think Mother took him?” Damian asked.
“If Talia took him, she would’ve made it known.” Dick said, looking through his phone to double check if the gates had been opened or if any of the walls around the Manor had been infiltrated.
“We should split up,” Tim suggested quickly, eyes glazing over something on his own phone screen that Steph couldn’t see. Looking around they took a head count. Cass was still in Hong Kong, and Duke had gone off to bed already. “Steph, Jason, Damian and I will go look around outside.” It made sense for more of them to be sent outside since there was more ground to be covered, “Bruce and Dick, look around the house. Babs is trying to keep an eye on street footage around Gotham.” No one argued with the pairings, and headed off to look for their missing brother.
Jason and Damian had gone off to the west, while Steph and Tim looked east. “Why is this place so god damn big?” Steph muttered after 10 minutes had already passed and they hadn’t heard anything back or found any trace of him. Worry thrummed in her chest. The bastard that said that sh*t to him was definitely going to get his fill of the consequences. Tim, who had already given the guy bruises to last a few days, looked like he was on the same boat.
A few feet away they heard some rustling. Not checking to see if Tim was following, knowing he was, Steph rushed to the sound. Steph let out a breath of relief when she saw Danny walking around, leaves stuck in his hair, dirt of his hoodie and sweatpants, but no more harmed than he had been when he’d come home. “Danny!” She jumped him with a hug.
Danny, surprised, turned to the sound of his name just in time to catch her. “Steph?” He asked, confused by her behavior, but hugged her back nonetheless.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Her worry turned into a (justified) fury, “You just disappeared!”
“Alfred said he couldn’t find you anywhere.” Tim explained, texting the others, and examining Danny for any injuries.
“Oh,” Danny said, genuine surprise in his eyes, “I didn’t know he was looking for me.” The words chewed at Steph’s heart. Did he really think they wouldn’t care if he just disappeared like that?
“We were all looking for you.” Tim offered, his voice distant with a delicacy that told Steph that he understood where Danny was coming from.
Danny looked at Tim, wide eyed, trying to tell if he was joking. “Oh.” Was all he said. Steph knew about Tim’s childhood, and how his parents were preoccupied with other things to really be there for him. Danny never really talked about the people that raised him. The friends he grew up with, his older sister, his aunt who he spent the summers with were easy topics. But the people who he’d called Mom and Dad were never things he broached or lingered on more than he had to.
Steph wondered what about the comment had bothered Danny so much. She had first assumed it had just been the clear degradation of him being a meta. Danny had been quite sensitive to their reaction when they had found out, and it had taken many reassurances for him to be comfortable using it as freely as he now did. But to keep such a still face, and hold his reaction enough to make it seem like it didn’t bother him at all came with practice.
The same instinct she had honed over her many cases told her it had something to do with those very people. “Where’d you go, anyway?” Steph asked, not wanting her thoughts to show.
Danny looked behind him at the bushes he had pulled himself out of. “I uh,” He started, seeming embarrassed, “I can show you, I guess.” He said after a moment with an awkward laugh.
Steph agreed out of curiosity, as they followed Danny through the bushes that unexpectedly led down a mulled down path through the grass. They walked in a silence that Steph wasn’t sure ever excited with Tim and Danny in the same room, but with both of them lost in their own heads, Steph decided not to disturb the so-called peace. After a few minutes they came to another burst of shrubbery that Danny climbed his way through. No wonder his hair was covered in leaves. Whoever designed this spot clearly did not want it to be found easily.
Once Steph made it through the bushes, she understood why. In the center of the circle of bushes was a little tombstone with the name “Thomas Wayne Jr.” Engraved into it, ‘12 February - 23 February 20XX’ right under it.
It was the kid that Danny had been switched with. But why would he come here? Her confusion must have been evident, “Alfred showed me this place the first night I stayed here.” He explained looking at the pristine headstone. Steph tried to imagine looking at a tombstone with her name that wasn’t hers on it while she was still very alive in front of it. It was clear Danny came here often, both with the ease he navigated them here, and the way his shoulders slumped in a familiar comfort.
“Do you…” Steph started, trailing off because ‘talk to him’ sounded like a weird thing to say.
“Yeah.” Danny said quietly. Steph knew that Danny was friends with ghosts thanks to his parents' research, so she supposed this was his way of reaching out to the kid whose life he was forced to take up.
They stayed there for a moment, before Tim broke his streak of silence, “The others are waiting for us, we should head back.”
When Danny was expectancy shrouded with a thousand “Are you okay?” and “Where did you go?” and “What were you thinking?” Despite his look of surprise at the concern he didn’t actually tell anyone else where he had been. Dick suggested they have a movie night as reprieve from their day’s worth of events, and they all huddled into the closest movie room and quickly dissolved into arguments about what to watch.
Steph had gone to grab a sip of water, where she saw Tim standing right outside of the dining room doors. She gave him a raised eyebrow, but he gestured for her to join him.
“-you’d gone off to?” Alfred was saying.
“I was just by the grave, Alfred. I didn’t mean to worry you, sorry.” Danny responded, sincerity in his tone.
“I see.” Alfred responded, “I’ve told you before that you are allowed to come and go as you please, Young Master Danny. There is no reason for you to be ashamed of your actions.”
“Thanks, Alfred.”
“It is my pleasure.” There was a pause, and with a hesitancy that Alfred didn’t often show, “Master Danny, if you don’t mind me asking.” Danny hummed for him to go on, “Young Master Thomas’s resting site was one of the first places I’d checked after I noticed you weren’t in the garden.” Steph shared a look of surprise with Tim at the admission. There was a beat of silence where Danny didn’t say anything, “The others are likely impatient for your arrival, let's make haste.” Alfred said, easily sidestepping the conversation.
“Okay.” Danny said easily, not addressing the other topic.
It would’ve been impossible for Danny to have snuck out and back in without any of them realizing, none of the sensors or alarms going off, and be back in time for them to have found him in the backyard. But how else could he have gone right under Alfred’s nose, and nearly disappeared right in the house he’d been working in for longer than even Bruce had been alive? Something was definitely strange here, and Steph could tell Tim thought so too.
Two days later when a boy with gravity-less white hair, green eyes with constellations shifting about in them, and a black and white suit claiming that he was a ghost named Phantom that “lived nearby” and “was just out exploring” when he happened across the Batcave. Steph came to her own conclusions on who he may have been when he was alive. He looked the same age as Danny, similar builds, and the same height, and maybe they would’ve looked more similar if Phantom wasn’t blue-skinned and nonhuman in ways that were impossible to ignore. He floated around the cave like he was swimming through a pool of water. The way Bruce’s eyes followed him everywhere and hadn’t immediately chased him away told Steph that he thought so too.
---
Danny had been excited for their championship match, eager to show off another victory and earn the title of Gotham’s Team. Dick, Tim, and the other’s had made their support apparent, and cheered him on even before he’d left the Manor. Bruce had profusely apologized for not being able to come, and had promised that he’d be watching the broadcast the whole time. Danny had appreciated the sentiment, and told Bruce as much. Duke had also been apologetic about not being able to make it, and Danny knew it was because of his job as Signal and had assured him it was fine.
But the cheer had only evaporated as the match grew nearer. “I have a really bad feeling about today guys.” Danny said again, his nerves on edge with a sense of foreboding notting in his stomach.
“You’re just nervous, Danny.” Ash said, putting the last of his gear on.
“Yeah, dude, just relax.” Keith tried, already prepped in all his gear while they waited for the others.
“I mean this is the championship, and the Robins have a winning streak of almost six years.” Liam chewed at his lips, the only one more nervous than Danny by the looks of it.
“Shut up, man.” Logan hissed, elbowing him, “It’s gonna be fine. Just play like always and we’ll have a win in the bag.”
Danny didn’t know how to tell them that his nerves definitely weren’t for the game, but something bigger. Like there was some kind of threat looming over the horizon. The striking awareness that Vlad nor any of the rogues had tried to attack him ever since he’d come to Gotham made his hairs stand on edge. The thought that Vlad had given up bidding for the seat as King was laughable. Danny, knowing he couldn’t keep an eye on Vlad all the time, especially since he was in Gotham while Vlad had remained in Amity (he checked), had assigned ghosts to keep watch. He’d considered sending in a spy to get a closer look at whatever he was up to, but ghost spies were notoriously hard to come by or train, and he didn’t want to send them in unnecessary danger when the situation still seemed manageable.
Benji clasped Danny on the shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. “It’s a hockey game, not a fight to the death. I know you're set on winning, but it won’t be the end of the world if we lose.” He said encouragingly when Danny looked up at him confused.
“Wayne, Henderson. Get a move on.” Coach snapped from the door and Danny realized they were the only ones still left in the changing rooms.
Benji gave him another encouraging look and led the way into the blinding lights, and cameras following their moves, and cheering crowds. Danny had thought their last game had been crowded, but this was next level. Wes and Tucker had not let him forget how viral his last game had gone after he took the puck to the face then proceeded to punch the guy later (he deserved it, they’d agreed). Fortunately his nose was almost entirely healed now with only a sliver of a bruise left.
As they got on the ice, Danny wondered why the crowd was chanting in sync, all saying the same thing. He ignored it until Samuel had come over to nudge him, “Dude they love you.” He laughed. And Danny realized they were cheering for him. “I’m a little jealous.” Samuel added, light heartedly before skating off for the rest of the warmups.
As he left one of the players in the Robin’s yellow and green came up to Danny, “Sorry, miss. Figure skating’s not until Tuesday.” He bit sarcastically, making a jab at the fact that Danny wasn’t as muscular or large as the other guys. Being half-ghost made muscles hard, okay.
Danny turned to him, catching the 36 on his jersey, as he circled around Danny like a bird of prey. Danny leaned his head closer to the guy, and he came to a stop, “Did you say something? I couldn’t hear you over the crowd cheering my name.” He said pointedly louder than the guy had been just to drive his point of f*ck Off. Noah and Theo who’d been close enough to hear, laughed as 36 could do nothing but skate away. A satisfying look of annoyance on his face.
The game started, with Danny’s nerves only getting worse. But as soon as the hockey stick was in his hands and the puck was gliding with him, he ignored it. Everything had gone fine until the third quarter of the game when Danny had been put in with the scoreboard displaying a 1-0 for the Robins. The puck slid, glided and skated between the players as the clock ticked away.
Danny had been locked in a face off with 36, a formidable player. Danny had held the perfect shot to aim for a goal and even the scoreboard. But 36 had managed to grab the puck, and had gone for an escape. Danny had managed to lock him in, still near to the goal and found the perfect opening to gain the puck back.
In any other situation Danny would’ve snatched it away and started racing towards the goal. But the familiar twinge of his ghost sense in his gut that flared out through his teeth dictated his moves. With the skill and instit* he’d honed through his many fights with the Rouges, he maneuvered his hockey stick to not grab the puck, but pull 36 away from his spot on the ice. The sudden momentum and force caused him to lose his balance.
The announcers and crowd were blindsided by the move, “What the fu-” 36 started angrily, but the ceiling crashing down in the exact spot he’d been standing stopped him in his tracks. He was half standing, stunned at the sight.
Danny pulled him up quickly, eyes locked on two of Vlad’s vultures screeching into the high ceilings of the stadium. No doubt here for him. “Go!” He snapped at him punching him towards the gate where the other players were quickly being filtered out by the coaches and referees. Danny looked at the Robin’s goalie, whose fearful eyes tried to find a way to get over the rubble that was blocking him. Danny sensed the Vulture dive for him from behind, and he ducked just in time for it to only grab his helmet. The vultures were never the brightest and Danny knew it would take both of them a few minutes to realize they hadn’t been successful.
A few minutes that Danny used to unhook the goal from its spot on the ice, and get the goalie out of his confines. The crowd in the stands were in chaos as the personnel tried to evacuate from a threat none of them had encountered before. Once the goalie was free he was quick to skate away to where Danny was being called to, most of the players also being shoed to safety.
Before Danny could get off the ice one of the Vulture flew right at him from the front and he quickly skated off to the side, only to notice he couldn’t see the second one. He turned around just in time to watch it come straight for his ankle. Danny yelped in surprise as it took him by the foot, eager to fly away from the skylight it had created.
Danny, glad he had made the decision to make his ice abilities public, sent follies of bladed ice at the vulture. It screeched as it dropped him on instinct when one landed squarely in its stomach, only for the second one to break his fall by catching his arm seconds later. Danny tried to throw more ice at it, but the vulture pointedly had more mobility to dodge than Danny had to aim and none of the hots landed. Danny could hear the familiar voices of Jason and Tim shouting for him, but he didn’t have the time to give them any reassurance.
The vultures were intent on kidnapping him for whatever business they had been sent on. The one Danny had injured had already retreated, relying on his partner to get the job done. Danny raced through his options. There was no way he could get out of this with just his ice and human limitations. He could impale the vulture, but he wasn’t willing to go all out in public where no doubt his abilities would garner unwanted attention. After all there was only so much a meta would be expected to be capable of, especially one who was allegedly noncombatant. Danny had more than enough experience in using his ghost powers without getting caught, after all he did get through all of three grades in Amity while ghosts were not shy about attacking him in daylight.
But he’d already used his ice so any additional ghostliness would leave side effects. As the sky only got more and more closer, Danny was running out of options. Calculating the most subtle choice, Danny twisted his body up and used the blade of his skates to strike a dangerous blow at the mindless creature. He put only just enough ectoplasm that the attack would have its intended effect but not enough that its trademark green hue would be visible to onlookers.
A painful screech erupted from the vulture, and it let go of Danny’s arm as it fled behind its counterpart. Leaving Danny to fall the space between the ceiling and the floor. Ice, being his core’s main affinity, gave Danny almost indefinite use of it without having to go ghost. The more he used it the more his body would try to push him to a death-like state, since it was after all, a ghost ability. And ghosts were, by definition, dead. But it would take a full-fledged fight for Danny to have to go ghost just using his ice. But his other powers didn't give him that much leeway. They required him to go ghost. And sure he could use the more simple ones like intangibility and invisibility almost instinctively, but ectoplasm manipulation was a hard call, no matter how little he used it. Which had been the whole reason he had been forced to learn to fight without his powers.
As Danny’s body was enveloping in gravity’s embrace, rather than focus on catching himself, or finding a way to break his fall. He only had one mantra repeating in his head.
Don’t go ghost.
Don’t go ghost.
Don’t go ghost.
He hit the floor hard on his back, and an unfamiliar pain shot through him as his efforts to not shift caused his mind to go foggy and his vision to blur the sounders around him muddled together barely distinguishable.
---
Dick, Damian and Steph had rushed off to go change so they could stop the new rogues, while Jason and Tim had gone off to where the players were gathered to check on Danny. Jason wasn’t sure how he’d been able to sense the incoming attack in time to move the other player out of the way, and for just a moment Jason wondered if Danny had felt the same sense of uneasiness that had been shrouding him since he’d gotten to the stadium.
He didn’t have time to linger on it though, as he pushed through the crowd to get to his brother, Tim not far behind. They’d alerted Signal, but according to Babs he was on the other side of the city and it would take him at least ten minutes to get there. 10 minutes they might not have. None of them had ever seen these zombie-vulture things that looked like they were aiming just for Danny.
That didn’t make any sense though, why would the weird rogue be after Danny. There was a heat in Jason’s gut when they finally got close enough to watch the vulture come for Danny’s feet as he tried to follow the goalie out of the rink. Some of the other players had refused to leave until Danny had gotten out, despite the workers telling them they needed to evacuate.
The heat felt a lot like the pit rage, just minus the rage. No, that wasn’t right. The anger and need for- for something was still there. But it was different. It wasn’t undirected rage at the world that pushed Jason to the brink of no return every time he wasn’t able to push it back. It was deeper and hotter and sharper, more directed. But at what? He couldn’t tell.
Jason yelled for Danny, as the vulture tried to fly away. Danny, resourcefully, shot ice at the vultures. Edges sharp and cutting through their wings and some parts of their skin. One hit managed to be aimed well enough despite his award angle to actually injure the freaky looking bird, and it let him go in pain, and flew away without its prisoner.
The other vulture, still mostly uninjured, grabbed him by the arm before he could get away. Where the f*ck were Nightwing, Robin and Spoiler. The safehouse wasn’t far, they should’ve been here by now. Were there more creatures outside? Still at least one of them should’ve been able to slip away to help. Tim was trying to get to Babs who was keeping them updated, a look of helplessness and fear in his eyes, unable to do anything while Danny fought alone.
Danny tried throwing more ice at his new captor but eventually stopped, and Jason wondered if that had been a stretch of his ability to use ice. Afterall there was nothing but the moisture in the air for him to freeze. The sharp hotness in Jason’s chest grew stronger with the sense of helplessness, and a need to move. To do something. He didn’t know how to stop the vultures. He was so f*cking useless.
Danny, not giving up, contorted his body impressively, and slashed the vulture in its stomach with the blade of his skate. The second vulture screeched loudly, and it echoed through the stadium. It retreated leaving nobody to catch Danny in his descent to the hard surface of the floor. Tim, not waiting any longer, rushed through the open door, onto the ice.
Jason’s attention, though, was caught on something else. As the vulture flew away in its pain, and Danny fell there was white that bled into his roots, slipping slowly to the tips of his hair. A white that Jason associated with the skunk tip of his hair. And Phantom. Phantom, Danny’s close friend. Friends so close, they were constantly and accurately up to date on anything that may have occurred to the other. Friends with physical similarities so close, that one may, without color or the ghost-factor, would’ve assumed them to be twins. Perhaps even the same person.
They were the same person. Danny was Phantom. Phantom was Danny.
The realization hit Jason with such surety that he wasn’t sure how he’d never connected it before. Danny was Phantom. The not pit-rage, was strikingly similar to the feeling he got when he was with Phantom. His core , Phantom had said, it reacted the same to both of them. Secret identities don’t really work on ghosts . That’s what Phantom had said. He’d always associated Danny with Phantom. Just in the wrong way.
Pushing the realization aside for later, Jason followed Tim and the other player relieved of the danger of the vultures thanks to Danny. None of them were able to get to Danny before his body slammed against the hard surface of the ice. Stark white hair, in place of black framed his face. The impact knocked the air out of him, and Tim scrambled to try to check his pulse before disregarding it and going for his phone.
“This isn’t the time to be texting the group chat.” Jason snapped at Tim, trying for a pulse that had to be there. How could Danny be Phantom, if Danny was alive, and Phantom was a ghost and ghosts were dead?
“I’m checking his vitals.” Tim screamed at him in a fear induced panic they had long been trained out of, a vivid panic in his eyes as he pressed buttons on his phone.
“You put a monitor on him?” Jason asked surprise, demure slipping, “Does he know?” Jason couldn’t find a pulse. Danny’s hair had gone white like Phantom’s but his skin was still its usual tan, and not Phantom’s blue-ish hue. What does that mean? Why can’t he find his pulse?
“Of course he f*cking knows, Jason.” His voice only grew more agitated. His eyes scanning across his phone screen, “sh*t.” He hissed, putting the phone down.
“Is he dead?” The kid Danny had pulled out of the way, asked, voice horrified.
“No.” Jason snapped quickly, “Tim, what did it say?”
Tim hesitated, and horror set into Jason’s gut. “Shut up.” The boy groaned, “Why are you guys so loud?” Danny's words slurred together, squirming uncomfortably. All the heads snapped to him, ignoring the vigilantes that started pooling into the room.
“Are you okay?” Jason asked, helping him sit up.
Robin rushed to them, scanning him with the holographic monitor that was in all their suits. The bat version would be more accurate than whatever Tim had managed to get on Danny. Robin’s jaw clenched at whatever he saw.
“He has a concussion.” Tim told them, not waiting for Robin to share his findings. “We need to keep him conscious.”
Spoiler came up next, “The ambulance is on the way. 2 minutes.” Horrible f*cking day for a Jutice Leauge meeting, huh, Bruce.
“Uh, what color is the sky?” One of the kids asked him, in an effort to stop Danny’s eyes from closing on them.
“Green.” Danny answered, neck seemingly unable to hold the weight of his head steadily.
“Holy sh*t, we lost him.” Another boy cried.
“Ask him something else,” Tim said raptly, “What’s the square root of 657?”
“25.632.” He said easily, voice meshing. Jason gave them both a look, but he saved his comments for later.
“Okay, we’re good. For now.” Tim breathed.
“Who’s the president?” One of the kids tried.
“Lucius Fox.” The beats between each syllable of the name getting longer and longer.
“What star system are we in?” Nightwing forced his voice to stay even and professional, and lighthearted in the way Nightwing always was.But the only response he got was Danny’s head falling limp in Jason’s hand, as the paramedics rushed through the door.
-Aftermath-
When Danny woke up he found himself in Clockwork’s Tower, in the room he knew to be the most secluded, in the heart of the tower. He was first faced by the wall gears that would continue to rotate for as long as time passed, a gear for every reality, and a piece for every dimension in it. It was infinite, and a sight almost as magnificent as the infinite constellations. Danny next realized that he was in his human form, and one of the more reflective gears showed that his hair had gone white. As the gear moved he saw the row of people standing behind him.
He turned. Or rather, the room turned for him. The wall of gears were to his back, and the line up of some of his most trusted and close friends faced him. They were on one knee bent with their hand resting on their core, weapons laid out at their feet, and head bowed to their destined king. “Rise.” Phantom said, immediately knowing the severity of whatever information was about to be offered to him. Danny tried to shift himself into his Phantom form as a show of respect to his Court, something that usually came so easily, but now seemed unfeasible.
They stood in front of him, heads straight and at attention. “I’ve summoned you to a dreamscape, My King. Your physical form is confined to the form of your body currently.” Nocturne explained, noticing his efforts.
In the reflection on Pandora’s helmet, Danny could see his hair slowly seeping back to its usual black. “I see.” He nodded. Even if this may have been a room of his friends, Pandora and Princess Dora had both explained the importance of displaying the proper behavior while the Court was in session.
“We apologize for summoning you without forewarning, Your Eminsese.” Clockwork bowed, his form remained to his older self.
Knowing not to show too much familiarity, “Go on.” Danny said, brows blending together as he tried to think what could have possibly happened for an emergency hearing like this. Even his entire Court had not been able to be present.
“As you’ve instructed us, we’ve sent only our most qualified to scout the actions of the Rogues who threaten your throne, and their current leader, Plasmius.” Fright Knight began.
“I’ve received your reports as scheduled.”
Firebolt, who’d he’d itoduce to Dick and Bruce as ‘Luke’ at their chance meeting, “Our most recent reports show that their forces have nearly doubled within just our last check in.” Danny’s stomach twisted at that, “We have reason to suspect that within his human persona as Vladimer Masters, he’s been amassing some form of weapon, and we’ve received no signal for almost a fifth of our scouts since their incidental encounter.” Plasmius is working on something strong enough for it to wipe out an entire fraction of some of their most trained combatants. Bolt always took great pride in having the most suitable squadrons for missions and patrols, he wouldn’t have sent out anyone who was less than overqualified for the job. By his already astronomically high standards.
“What do we know about the weapon so far?” Danny asked, ready to commit everything to memory. This wasn’t information they could write down and risk it getting compromised. Even within the walls of the Keep, they couldn’t assure its security.
“Next to nothing. There’s split reports. Some say it’s a beam-like weapon. Other’s called it an indestructible armor, reminiscent of the one you wore during your duel with the previous High Lord. Those who were able to get away, were only able to do so by their distance to the weapon, it seems.” Firebolt concluded.
“Send me a copy of their individual reports, and health evaluations.” Maybe Danny could find something from their recounts.
“Understood, My Leige.” Firebolt bowed, his sword pointed to the floor with his hilt over his left shoulder. A warrior’s sigh of servitude and respect.
“Was that all?” Danny asked, his mind already racing at what Vlad could possibly be up to. His silence, his parents relocation, and now this?
“If I may, Your Highness.” Pandora spoke up for the first time.
“Speak.” What more could there be?
“I empathize with your reason to not send spies into the enemy’s hold previously. But I fear, if we do not proceed in haste with arranging them, it will prove to be far too late.” Pandora was Danny’s mentor in almost all aspects of being the predestined ruler of the Realms, and one of those many aspects was strategy. She found it integral that Danny learn from multiple teachers, but she was the one he turned to the most. And what she could not teach him the Princess Dora would, but she was not present at the moment.
“I see.” Danny said, contemplating the decision.
“My Prince, I need not remind you that Plasmius is showing signs of launching an attack soon. I would put little trust in his honor and integrity for he is much unlike you, we must start preparing for his assault now. While there is time to prepare.” Pandora added, urging Danny towards a decision.
Danny stayed silent for a moment. The people of the Realms were his responsibility. One he would have to shoulder and bear even if Plasmius was somehow able to defeat him in battle and earn his position of King of the Realms. He saved his people from a tyrant and he would have to prepare them for another. “Prepare the residents of the Realms for an evacuation. I’ll name you in charge of the matter for now, Pandora. You have my authority on any matter pertaining to it, and you will respond only to me.”
“Understood, My Prince.” She bowed like Firebolt had. Pandora, while Danny was not old enough to wear the Crown in its entirety, acted as his Regent in all matters of domestic dimplacy, along with her selection of the Court Members. She would have it handled excellently.
“Fright Knight,” Danny turned to the King’s Knight, “Have daily patrols sent out around our borders through all the Realm. Ensure our safety until all residents are evacuated within measure.” The Fright Knight and his Knights of Fright were the best of their respective fields, and it was one of the highest of honors to serve as an extension of the King’s Knight. They would complete their tasks with nothing but the utmost sincerity.
“Understood, My King.” He bowed, kneeling at the order, unlike the others.
“Firebolt,” While Fright Knight was loyal to the Crown, Firebolt was Phantom’s Knight and he was loyal first and foremost to Phantom. And with his position as Phantom’s Knight, he was the Commander and Chief of all militant groups acting in loyalty to the King, or in this case Prince. “evaluate the best candidates for an undercover mission, and I’ll select from your list.” If Bolt approved of them, Danny would trust in their abilities.
“Understood, My Leige.” He bowed again.
Danny stood before his court, the weight of his decision settling onto his shoulders. He turned into Clockwork, a mentor, like Pandora, and close advisor. “You act with honor and the Realms are grateful to have you as their sovereign.” He smiled, and bowed. His simple, just bending at the waist and a handset on his left shoulder, a sign of respect to his ruler, but not one of a warrior.
Danny let out a breath. His discieons hadn’t destroyed too many realities. Yet, atleast. “Was that all?” Danny asked again.
When no one spoke up for an acceptable amount of time, Noctume took his sign, “Thank you for welcoming us despite the ill planning. It was an honor to be in your Court as it is an honor to serve you.” They bowed in synchrony, and the room of Clockwork’s Tower faded away into a blissful darkness. A gift from Noctume, no doubt. And Danny relished in what may be his few remaining semblances of peace.
The next time Danny opened his eyes, it was to an unfamiliar white ceiling, mechanical beeping, and arguing in the background. And holy sh*t, his body hurt .
-Elsewhere-
The room is dark, its decorations majestic. The king’s of old would have looked upon in jealousy at the carpets older than countries and walls that were lined with fabrics the common people had never even dreamt of. The man that sat alone in the magnificent room had many heirs come and go, but none were able to win his favor or blessing to sit upon his seat. He was their unattainable aspiration, a god among their painful mortality.
The room, large and magnificent, was lit only by a large screen, given the undivided attention of the man. His brilliant green eyes watched the newest addition of his bloodline. He showed promise. But promise, alone, was not enough to best him. He moved with agility, and elegance. He showed pride in his abilities. Traits good in practice, yes, but would they withstand the test of a true battle?
The servants door open was the only disturbance apart from the sounds from the screen. The broadcast showed an unexpected turn of events. The man held up a singular finger, and the servant knew to not disturb him until he deemed it acceptable. They revered him, and when they did not they feared him. The man watched as the boy moved quickly and effectively. But eventually, the assailant had him within their grip. But before the man could completely disregard the boy on the screen as yet another failure of his lineage, he fought back. His moves, while unfitting of his position as an heir for his throne, had managed him success over one his captors, but there was a second who was not willing to let him go. But the boy emerged victorious, but not without repercussions.
The boy, while being the first born, had not received even a fraction of the teaching and training his brother, the younger, had. If he were to show signs of talent that Damian had been so keen to display, perhaps he would not be a waste of flesh. The man put his finger down. “The Lady Talia has returned.” The servant informed him.
A smile splintered across the man’s face, the white peppering his beard and hair reflected the light off the broadcasting of Gotham’s most recent junior league hockey match that ended on an unexpected note. “Tell my daughter, she is to dine with me tonight. Prepare all her favorite meals.”
The meal could not come fast enough, in the man’s opinion. And he awaited every moment until his daughter was to be sat in front of him eagerly. The had been one his favorite heirs, as of yet. Her abilities were astounding, and her marks were never off, her assignments completed with a beautiful delicacy. But trumphing all those feats, she had given him two more potential heirs. The man had always favored his daughter more than his sons for that very ability.
The doors of the dining hall were opened, and Talia’s presence was announced to the room of one. “My Leigh, you’ve summoned me.” She bowed, approaching him, and placing a kiss on the back of his hand, then placing it to her forehead.
“I simply wish to have a meal with my daughter since I have been deprived of her presence for so long.” The man smiled.
Talia acted easily, the unending calculations hidden behind her eyes, as she stood. “It would be an honor to dine with you, Father.” The servant pulled out her chair as she sat, “I have missed your company as well,” Talia had always been a wonderful diplomat, “My most recent assignment required that I have no contact with the present world for quite some time.”
“Yes, I recall, three months exactly.” The man took a bite of his still bloody meat, and chewed slowly. Releashing in the information his daughter had seemingly remained unaware of.
“Those three months have only allowed my adoration of you to grow, Father.” Talia smiled, chewing her own food. No doubt suspicious of him, despite the calm she poised.
“Yes, I suppose three months are nothing with the intrinsic relationship between a father and his most beloved daughter.” Talia said nothing, knowing he had yet to finish speaking. She would not dare interrupt him, “Do you feel the same after the elongated separation between you and your son?”
Talia could not hide the shifting of her grip on the fork she held, setting it down. Talia had possessed no weakness until 17 years ago when she had stumbled into the embrace of the man she referred to as her Beloved . She’d become so illusioned with his lies that she had abandoned the League she was set to inherit had she proved her merit, and ran off to carry the man’s child. When her firstborn had not lived to see even his first birthday, she had returned to him in humility and asked to be allowed to prove herself to him again. Mortals were often weak, and knowing as such, the man had conceded with mercy.
Her only weakness now was her second born. The boy that was known by millions by the name Damian Wayne. But she’d always been tarnished by her most devastating loss. The boy’s whose image she shaped Damian with, the boy Damian was never allowed to become. A boy so weak and frail he had been a smear on the Al-Ghul title. But it seemed they had been mistaken.
“My adoration to my son will know no bounds, regardless of the regularity of our interactions.” Talia said, defiance in her tone.
There was a string of silence, and the man waited until Talia took up her utensils to eat before he spoke. “I’ve been following your son’s activities for the last two months. He’s shown his adequacy of his title of Al-Ghul, even if he does not wear it.”
“Damian has always been regarded as a prodigy among his peers. There is no reason he would not continue to show forth the same abilities as he ages and lives under his father’s guidance.” Talia responded, much more controlling of her actions now. Her eyes met the man’s, matching in its hue and distinction, daring the man to move disfavorably against her son.
“I was not referring to Damian, my dear daughter,” The man put down his utensils, finished with his meal. He looked up at his daughter with a pleasant smile, “but rather your firstborn.” Talia stared at him, trying to decipher what his words could possibly mean, “Has your Beloved not informed you?” The servant, following the instructions the man had given beforehand, placed a singular paper next to Talia. A paper that held the picture of a boy that had long been thought dead, and had taken the world by its reins in just the two months he’d been rebirthed as his father’s son. “I’m sure you recognize him. They say a mother can always tell.” It was time that he was rebirthed as his mother’s.
Talia stayed silent, drinking up the picture. “What is his name?” She asked with a softness that only echoed the man’s failure.
“Daniel.” Knowing his daughter would bring him to his rightful home, the man left the ding hall without another word.
