Chapter Text
The Drs. Fenton were supposed to be experts in the field of ghosts. Batman had asked Constantine for information, but the Brit had waved him off with an ‘I’m busy, find someone else to answer your questions’. Zatanna was next on the list who was on a mission with Captain Marvel and both were unreachable. Therefore, Batman had to take matters into his own hands.
After much research and reading obscure ghost hunters forums, the name that popped up the most was Fenton. Well it was actually the city of Amity Park that caught his attention, which was where the Fenton’s lived.
They only wanted to know about the new ghost king. A monarch of the Infinite Realms they had been told. A powerful being who would make a beneficial ally. However, other than summoning him (which apparently was a big no-no per Constantine) they had to figure out a way to contact him the old fashioned way. Or in other words, talk to the couple of scientists that managed to punch a hole directly into this being’s domain.
Batman had prepared himself for mad scientists, which is what he is used to, or perhaps the mild form of conspiracy theorists focused on ghosts instead of aliens. Either way, he was not prepared for the enthusiastic duo that had no sense of safety let alone lab procedures. This was probably worse because they had no idea why keeping specimens in the fridge where they keep their food is bad practice.
Not to mention these unpredictable people are supposed to be responsible for two children.
Cass, who had come with him, signed quickly behind their backs.
‘New siblings?’
He didn’t bother giving a response, which she mistakingly took as a yes.
The pair of Fentons went on tangents and ignored half his questions. He knew he wasn’t going to get much from them that was actually helpful. He learned how the portal works, how the weapons work, and even about the shields they had. All was useful information, however, it wasn’t what he had asked.
“Is there anyway to contact the Ghost King?”
The scientists gave him a confused look like they had no idea why he would want to do such a thing.
“Ghosts don’t want to talk. They are just mindless embodiments of past emotions and ectoplasm. They don’t have a government let alone a king. Don’t be silly,” the woman replied and dismissed just as fast.
He knew their opinions were bias based on their publishings but to completely think these beings are not sentient is going too far. If anyone is dangerous it’s these two.
The surprises didn’t end there. They had tried to leave, making it to the kitchen before the Fentons could drag them into another bigotry filled conversation. That was until the front door opened.
“Mom, Dad, I’m home! Jazz went to the library,” came a teenager’s voice. Why did it sound familiar?
Around the corner came a boy about fifteen that looked strikingly recognizable.
Batman froze at the same time the boy did as soon as they made eye contact. He looked exactly like Damian. His skin was just a shade or two lighter and his eyes were Bruce’s blue instead of Talia’s green, but he looked like a Damian with thinner arms and longer hair that falls into his eyes.
The boy’s face pales and his eyes widen in recognition and panic. He didn’t even look to be breathing.
“Dann-o!” The large orange man bellows, snapping the Damian look alike out of his frozen state violently. The man doesn’t seem to notice as he thumps over to wrap a large arm around the boys thin shoulders. He looks so small, smaller than Damian even if they look the same age.
“Look who came to ask about ghosts! Batman! And his little friend there,” he grins widely as he squeezes the boy enough to lift him off the ground.
“Ghosts? He just wants to talk about ghosts? Nothing else?” The teen asks hesitantly, clearly relieved to hear that, but a different nervousness came into the lines around his mouth.
“As far as I know. Should he want to talk about anything else?” The man asks genuinely confused.
“No!” He blurts out in alarm. “No, of course not. Just curious.”
“Well no doubt you’re curious! There’s a superhero in our kitchen!”
The teen grimaces in obvious discomfort.
“Yeah. Um, hey dad, could you let me down?”
Something in Bruce’s chest contracts at the title directed to the large man in an orange hazmat suit.
“Oh! Sorry about that, Danny-boy!”
Danny lands lightly at the sudden drop and picks up his backpack from the floor, avoiding looking in Batman’s direction. He narrows his eyes at the nervousness. Damian was confident and confrontational, Danny seemed to want to run and hide.
“Uh, actually, I agreed to meet up with Sam and Tucker, so I’m gonna go.”
A lie.
The woman Fenton frowns.
“You just got home.”
Danny rubs the back of his neck. A nervous gesture that appears to be a habit.
“Hah, well Tuck got this new tech he wants to show off but couldn’t cuz his parents won’t let him take it out the house.”
He’s already backing up slowly like he can slip away without them noticing. Knowing these parents they probably wouldn’t.
“Oh, well, okay,” Dr. Fenton says with a slight disappointed frown.
“Take a Fenton blaster with you champ!”
Danny is already halfway to the door when the man chucks a loaded gun at the teen like it’s a baseball. Black Bat takes a step forward to interfere but stops at the hand Batman holds out. They watch as Danny reaches out and snags the weapon out of the air like Damian does with a knife, and twists to cushion the momentum. He tosses the gun into his backpack like it was an extra pencil and is running out the door in the next second.
Bruce and Cass don’t stick around very long after that.