Chapter Text
Gotham was different from what Danny expected, not that he had any real expectations, but this… this wasn’t it. It’s quiet. The manor is far enough from the city that you do not hear the cars, the hustle and bustle of the city, or the recurring rogue attacks. It’s unnerving, after his time with the Fentons, especially in the manor. Practiced footsteps, missing the squeaky floorboards, hinges properly oiled– there’s no laughter, fighting, warmth – it’s like a well-preserved landmark. He’s been here a month, and it’s not getting any easier.
After a few days, once his hands fully regenerated and he was released from the medbay, he was given a hastily cleaned-out room and left to his own devices. The room came with basic furniture– a bed, nightstand, wardrobe, bookshelf, and a desk. The only decoration being a rug straight out of the sixties. Jason and Damian helped correct that, grabbing glow-in-the-dark stars and helping him plot the constellations. Jason found him a computer chair for his desk, a star print comforter set, and a couple of nicknacks– the model rocket being a nice touch. It’s nice, but it doesn’t combat the feeling of intrusion.
Besides Damian, the rest of them are distant. Dick sticks to Blüdhaven– which is off based on what Danny knows of the man. Dick being the one that cared for Damian during Bruce's absence. Jason's visits tend to be case-related– he always comes up for a chat–but outside of helping to get Danny settled in the first couple of days, they haven’t done anything together. When Cass comes over, she keeps her distance– Danny's not really sure what to think of her. She'll just look at him, sizing him up, but never making contact. Tim, on the other hand, the only other sibling living at the Manor full time, besides Damian, and he doesn't seem to know what to make of him. Joining Danny for the occasional movie on the couch or asking how physical therapy is going– general niceties, but not really making an effort to get to know him. Bruce… never really seems to be around, and when he is, he's either working on stuff for Wayne Enterprises or down in the Batcave doing ancients know what. It's lonely. Damian tries, but between school, training– which Danny isn't allowed to join– and Robin activities, he doesn't have a lot of time to spare. The only one ever around is Alfred– and at the end of the day, he's got a job to do, and that job isn't to entertain Danny. The upkeep of the manor is a lot for one person, especially when adding childcare on top of regular duties.
Danny's stuck there. As good as a prisoner in the house. A new Wayne kid? That would make the news. Said Wayne kid, being the well-known foster of the world's leading ecto-biologist, under straight government lockdown? It would lead the G.I.W straight to the Waynes' front door. Outside of the immediate family and close Wayne/Bat associates, no one knows he's there. Because of… everything, the family doctor, Leslie Thompkins, has created a basic Physical Therapy regimen for him. Since he can't get help elsewhere, for obvious reasons, how much help it will be is up in the air, this kind of thing not being her area of expertise. Since his hands came back, they've been shaky– there have been some issues with fine motor control. The numbness and pain in his hands are worse now, more so in his left– which he already had issues with. Nerve damage. How bad? Well, that's an issue for future Danny.
So, while the rest are out and about, doing their thing, Danny’s stuck staring at the ceiling, at the glittering stars, unable to sleep. He's been tossing and turning, sleep evading him. “ What I would do for a visit from Nocturne,” Danny huffs, staring up, speaking to the universe at large. “ Don’tcha have your whole thing as Morpheus on this side? A little sleep, please, cuz?” He waits for a moment, kinda hoping something would happen. But nothing. “ Thanks, man, great.” He sits up, running a hand through his hair, then going for his phone, checking the time. It’s a quarter after one. “ Oh, screw it,” he decides, getting up, pulling on some slippers, and heading out of his room, creeping down the stairs. He doesn’t bother with going invisible; everyone else should still be out. It’s a Friday, so there is an extended patrol, but he does float down the stairs. Alfred could be asleep– that man doesn't get enough rest as it is– he doesn’t want to disturb him if he doesn’t have to.
Danny makes his way to the kitchen, turns on the light, and looks in the pantry– he's in the mood for something sweet. It's… sad. There's no other way to describe it. It's just cans of stuff– ingredients. Well, there's a box of popcorn, but that's pretty much it in the way of snacks. Next, he checks the freezer, hoping for some ice cream– but it's just as pathetic. “It's like no teenagers live here– I get they're all Vigilantes and got to watch what they eat, but haven't they heard of a cheat day?” Danny wonders, aghast. “Nope, this isn't going to work,” he heads back to the pantry, “ nope, nope, nope.” He grabs a couple of cans of sweetened condensed milk, a bag of chocolate chips, and then a stick of butter from the fridge. It takes him a few moments to find a big enough microwavable bowl and a deep enough pan, but he eventually finds what he needs for fudge. He could make it properly on the stove, but he's lazy. He washes his hands, then adds the cans of condensed milk and half a stick of butter to a bowl and sticks it in the microwave for 5 minutes. While waiting for it to heat up, he searches for parchment paper.
“ Ehem–”
The slight cough startles Danny. He flinches back. “Alfred.”
“ Now,” Alfred closes the pantry door, “ what are you doing in my pantry at this time of night, Young Master?”
“ Oh, uh, fudge– I’m making fudge,” Danny says, gesturing to the stuff on the counter. He rambles a bit, “ I’d normally do it properly, on the stove, but I don’t really know where everything is for that, and I don’t wanna make a mess– I’ll clean up what I use though– I just wanted something sweet. I, uh… your kitchen? Am I not supposed to be in here?”
Alfred sighs, taking in the lack of mess, “Typically, Young Master, my charges don’t enter the kitchen.”
“ Oh?”
“ Though,” Alfred continues, “ only Master Bruce and Young Master Tim have an outright ban… the others tend to stay away as well.”
“ I’m sorry,” Danny says. “ I didn’t know. I can put everything away, though I’d prefer not to waste the condensed milk. I used two cans. I had planned on making a large batch…”
“I guess there’s no harm in you continuing, though I will be supervising,” Alfred says, taking a seat on the chair at the Island. The microwave goes off, and Danny takes it out, quickly adding the chocolate chips, using a spatula to fold them in before setting the bowl aside, giving the chocolate a few minutes to melt before mixing. Alfred watches with a critical eye, “Where did you learn to do this, Young Master?”
“ Oh,” Danny perks up some, “ the foster family I was with, the Fentons, were big on fudge. Jack especially. We made a lot of fudge. There’s not much a good piece can’t cure– well, at least emotionally.”
“ I see,” Alfred says, “ and you typically use the stove? I recall you saying you don’t know where everything is.”
Danny shrugs, going to float crisscross across from Alfred at waist level, making them even in height. The family knows of his differences and abilities. He sees no reason to hide them. “ I wasn’t sure if there’s a double boiler or which bowls can be used as a makeshift one. I didn’t want to risk breaking anything.”
Alfred's eyes widen at the display, but he doesn’t comment on it. “Which is much appreciated. I’d prefer not to awake to broken cookware.”
Danny floats over to the pantry. “ Could you tell me where the parchment paper is? I wanted to line the pan.”
“ Ah,” Alfred turns to answer him, “ the top shelf, young sir.”
“ Thanks,” Danny says, floating up and tearing off a piece before putting the roll back. He goes to line the pan before mixing the now-melted chocolate chips and asks, “So you said the others don’t use the kitchen?”
“ Many have tried over the years. Though I believe your father's attempts have been the most disastrous,” Alfred replies.
“ Really?” Danny asks, eyebrows going up. “ Mama always praised his ability to find stuff during training. That he always was able to make stuff edible.”
“ He has somehow managed to master the art of foraging and burning them within tolerable limits around an open flame, but as soon as you hand him a pan, he’s hopeless,” Alfred says, leaning in. “ He once managed to burn water– without getting it to boil.”
“ Oh, my ancients, really?” Danny asks, finding the concept funny, “ but he’s had to come a lot further than that, right?”
“ Oh, heavens no, this was only a year or so ago. I was down with the flu, and Master Bruce wished to prove himself capable in the kitchen. Needless to say, we had pizza that night,” Alfred says, still a bit mad about that. Bruce ruined one of his favorite pans.
“ Wow, and the others?” Danny asks, adding some more chocolate chips—it’s not chocolatey enough.
“ Young Master Damian has yet to try, and Young Miss Cass doesn’t touch more than the microwave while here, so I can not speak on her cooking ability,” Alfred says, thinking back. “ Young Master Dick can cook quite well, actually, but he leaves a tremendous mess. Young Master Jason is similar in that regard, though I believe he has a preference for baking. He is the only one besides myself that uses the kitchen. However, it has been a while. As for Young Master Tim, I am unsure if it is a lack of ability or sleep deprivation, but things never turn out quite right. Either half asleep and not paying attention or too hyper from all those energy drinks and deciding to ‘experiment’ despite my constant reminders that the kitchen is not a laboratory. He was banned after an atrocity of his blew up.”
“ His what now?”
“Five-Hour Energy, Red Bull, orange juice, Red Gatorade, and Mountain Dew. He had wanted to create the ultimate energy drink, a ‘bat-pow,’ I believe he called it. As it turns out, the mixture did not appreciate being boiled,” Alfred says, remembering the mess. “ By the grace of god, it missed Master Bruce’s espresso machine. I thought Master Bruce was going to have a conniption, and I wasn’t far from it.”
“ Okay, no experimental foods, got it,” Danny says, nodding quickly. He’d never, not after seeing what the Fentons could cook up. He doesn’t want to have to fight his food again anytime soon. Once the fudge mixture was done, he started pouring it into the pan. “ Would it be okay if I used the kitchen from time to time? I don’t intend to make it a habit, but I do like to make stuff from time to time. I’ll make sure to clean up after myself.” He puts the empty bowl in the sink and runs hot water in it to loosen up the remaining mixture for easy cleanup.
“ I see no reason to stop you. However, I would prefer you let me know if you intend to use the stove, just in case,” Alfred says, getting up and looking at the pan. “ I'll take it. I believe this is ready for the freezer?”
“ Ah, I’ve got a trick for that.” Danny picks up the pan; his eyes lighten, and frost starts covering it. Before their eyes, the fudge rapidly hardens, “ ta-da.”
“ Young Master,” Alfred sighs.
“ It’s not an experiment if you know it’s gonna work,” Danny’s quick to defend, putting the pan down and letting the frost fade away. “ I call it ten minutes fudge– the way to any Fenton’s heart– blood or honorary. All that’s left is to cut.” Danny goes to grab a knife. His hand starts shaking as soon as he holds it, and his grip weakens.
“ Why don’t I handle that, Young Master?” Alfred says, gently removing the knife.
“ I can do it,” Danny says, just a little too insistent.
“ I know, Young Master,” Alfred agrees, moving the pan closer to himself, “... progress is not always linear. It is okay to need help.”
Danny’s quiet for a moment. “ How am I supposed to get better if I’m not working to get better?”
“ You are. The first few days, you were unable to use them at all– it’s only been a month, Young Master. It is going to take time. They lack the muscle and experience the rest of your body has,” Alfred says, taking the fudge out of the pan and starting to cut it into squares. “ Do not be so hard on yourself.”
“ I know… I’m trying, it’s just… there’s so much I need to do–”
“ Which can wait until you’re better,” Alfred says, leaving no room for arguments.
Danny sighs, grabs the now-empty pan, brings it to the sink, and starts cleaning everything. Danny and Alfred are finishing off a piece of fudge when Tim walks through the kitchen. Danny smiles at him and pushes the container of fudge towards him, “Welcome back, how was–”
Tim passes him, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge, and leaves.
Danny’s face falls, “...I…” he frowns, “ maybe he doesn’t like fudge…” Not too long later, Bruce and Damian’s voices come from down the hall. There's an echo of stomping feet– then silence.
“ I am unsure what exactly that was about. However, that was no way to…” Alfred sighs and looks at Danny. “Try not to take it personally, Young Master, they…”
“ It’s okay, I get it,” Danny says, and he truly does. Patrol is hard– on a multitude of levels, there’s gonna be good times and bad times. It’s gonna seep into other areas of your life. You can’t just turn yourself off like that. Your reasons and excuses will differ based on whom you’re speaking with, those in the know and those not, but the emotion is real. Danny grabs a couple pieces of fudge and puts it on a napkin, “ I’m gonna–”
“ Try not to track crumbs, Young Master,” Alfred says.
“ I’ll try my best,” Danny calls over his shoulder, heading upstairs. He makes sure to step on every squeaky floorboard as he plants himself in front of Damian’s door. He knocks. “Are you okay, Dami?”
“ … Go away, Danyal.”
“ Hum… I mean, I could, but I’m not.”
“ Danyal–”
“ I’m giving you the semblance of choice– so help me, I will go intangibility through that door,” Danny threatens.
“ You wouldn’t.”
“ Try me,” Danny says and waits. After a few moments, the door opens. Danny brushes past him and goes to sit on the bed. “ See, that wasn't so hard, was it? I brought fudge.”
Damian glares at him. “ I have no need for sweets.”
“ Eh, debatable,” Danny says, holding a piece out. “Fudge fixes everything– it’s a Fenton curse.”
Damian pouts and sits next to him, “ which neither of us are.”
Danny puts fudge in his hand. “I've been claimed as honorary, and so have you through association—just try it. I spent all of ten minutes making it.”
“ You did?” Damian asks, raising an eyebrow and then looking at it curiously. He takes a bite, “... this is good.”
Danny snorts, “Thanks. Now, what’s wrong? Tim came into the kitchen and completely ignored Alfred and me, as well as my fudge. Then you and Baba came in hollering–”
“ Must you resort to calling him that–”
“ Doors slammed– that’s not like you,” Danny continues, concerned. “ What happened?”
Damian’s quiet for a moment. “ Is…is it so bad that sometimes I wish Father didn’t return?”
“ Damian!”
“ Not back to this time–” Damian was quick to correct, realizing how that sounded. He says softly in Arabic, “The cowl, to being Batman. He’s… he isn’t what I thought he’d be. Richard… did well. We worked well with Stephanie and the others. We were a team. Partners. With Father… It’s not like that. I know it's only been a few weeks with him back in the suit, but… I don’t like it. I…I want Richard back.”
“ Have you talked to Baba about it?” Danny asks, “You could address whatever it is he’s doing specifically that's bothering you. He’s not going to know unless you talk to him about it.”
“ I have tried, but he doesn’t listen. Tonight, he stopped me from entering a fight– he keeps doing that. ‘ Stay behind, Robin. Restraint, Robin,’ ugh?” Damian mocks. “ Richard was my partner with Father; it’s like I’m a green sidekick. He acts as if I’m incapable.”
“ Well…” Danny thinks it over. “ He wasn’t really here for your training. Maybe you just need to show him how capable you are. Think about it– he doesn’t really know your– our capabilities; it’s not like normal children can do what we can. He’s properly used to training from the ground up. New recruits are still figuring out how to adapt their skills to the field. He doesn't know if he can trust you yet. That you can watch his back, he wasn’t here to see your growth.”
“ Things were so much simpler working with Richard,” Damian sighs, taking the other piece of fudge Danny brought.
“ Yeah, but he’s our Baba. It’s going to be different,” Danny says. “ Mama’s had trouble with it too. What did she call it… parental instinct? He doesn’t want to see you hurt. Not to say Richard wants anything of the sort, but he’s a sibling. That already puts you on a more even playing field.”
Damian scowls, annoyed, “ Yeah, well, if Richard would join us, tell him I’m capable; maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, but no. He’s just… up and left.”
“ I doubt it's like that. You're always texting him, he responds. He's just busy. He put a lot off taking Baba’s responsibilities. He’s probably trying to catch up or fix whatever he missed. You can’t finish months of backlogged stuff in just a couple of weeks,” Danny argues.
“... Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Damian pouts.
Danny sighs, then straightens for a moment, eyes narrowing before visibly brightening, “ Hold that thought; I’ll be right back.” He skedaddles out of the room and comes back a few minutes later with a backpack on.
“ Danyal,” Damian looks at his practically vibrating brother's excitement warily, “ what are you planning?”
“ We’re going to Dicks!” Danny exclaims. “ If he’s too busy to make his way here, we’ll go to him!”
“Danyal–”
“ Like a sleepover! Come on, what do you want to bring?” Danny opens his backpack to show a change of clothes, a blanket, and a Tupperware container filled with fudge. “ There’s room in here, come on!” Damian looks between Danny and the bag, wondering if they’re really going to do this… in the end, the desire to see Dick wins out. Damian grabs a change of clothes and adds them to the bag. “ You ready?”
“I'm as ready as I can be,” Damian says. “ How are we going to get there? You never said. I... I’m not sure where his apartment is, actually.”
“ Leave that to me!” Danny says, letting a halo of light overtake him. “ All aboard air Phantom.”
Danny looks up at the crown and wills it away, out of sight. “That’s gonna get annoying. Oh, well.” Danny puts the backpack back on, picks up his brother under his arms, turns them invisible and intangible, and flies them out. Not letting go of either till they’re high enough not to be seen.
“ Woah… It’s beautiful up here,” Damian says, amazed.
“ I’d take you higher to see the stars, but I’m not too sure if you’d get enough air,” Danny says, heading towards the city. Following the major roadways.
“ Why… Why did you start calling Mother ‘Mama’ again? And Father ‘Baba,’ you haven’t– we haven’t since we could properly enunciate.”
Danny tightens his hold on him, “ I realized that’s not the kind of relationship I want with them anymore. I am not a soldier or someone under their command. There is no need for propriety. They’re my parents, and that’s it. I don’t need to keep my distance. I can have an emotional relationship with them. I’ll never go back to the league, not as a member. To visit is a possibility, depending on whatever happens in the future, and I’m not part of Baba’s gaggle of Robins. I know I’ll have to get involved on some level because of who I am, but it will be on my terms. I want to build a relationship with them as their kid. Solely as their kid… does that answer your question?”
“ I have no desire to go back to the league either, as a member. Though, I’d love to see more of Mother, of Mama…” Damian trails off, understanding what Danny means. “ Do you think that's why he acts like that?... As Batman. Acting as a Baba and not a Father?”
“ I don’t know… but he cares. Mama did her best, but we’ve never had this before… I just hope we don’t mess this up. It’s nice. Having people that care about us.”
✴❀✿❅✿❀✴
“ Abra-ca-dabra abracadabra,” Dick sings to himself, letting himself back through the window, closing it behind him, locking it, pulling the curtains back in place, and turning around. “ Abra-ca-da- AH! What are you two doing here?!” Sitting on the couch like abandoned kittens are Danny and Damian. “ Does B know you’re here? Is everything alright?”
Danny pops up. “ Dami and Baba fought, so I brought Dami to you and—oh,” he opens his bag and digs through it, bringing out the container of fudge. This is for you—I thought that you could fix them.”
“ Kids–boys–” Dick sighs, pulling off his mask, rubbing his eyes. “ You can’t just go off like that– Damian, I know you know better. We’ve talked about this. How did you even get here?”
“ That’s my fault,” Danny says, readily accepting the blame. “ It was my idea– I flew us here. Blame me. I just wanted to make things better. Seeing you makes things better.”
“ Danny– you know you’re not supposed to go out. You could have been seen. It’s too soon for you to go out as Phantom– you know better. You’re not well yet,” Dick says, disappointed. “ You two stay here. I’m going to change, and you’re going to stay here. Do. Not. Move.” Ordering them before heading to his bedroom. “ Oh my god,” Dick groans as soon as his door shuts. “ Bruce is gonna kill me.” He quickly changes clothes, sweats, and a T-shirt– he can take a shower later– and heads back to the living room. He sits in a chair and dials Bruce’s number, putting it on speaker.
“ Status report,” Bruce says as soon as he picks up, his voice gruff. Obviously, he’s just been woken up.
“ Home– my apartment– no injuries,” Dick says, knowing the drill.
It’s quiet for a moment. “ Richard, why are you calling me at 3:17 in the morning?”
“ Whelp,” Dick pops the p with fake cheer, “ the baby birds decided to flee the nest. Not sure how long they’ve been here; I’ve just gotten back myself.”
“ About an hour, maybe a little less,” Damian replies.
“ Damian and Tim, or Damian and Danyal?” Bruce asks, not sure if he means the twins or the robins.
“ Damian and Danyal,” Dick replies, “... I understand something happened tonight between you and Damian. I think Danyal intended to help,” trying to soothe something over. They are just kids. “ I just wanted to make sure you knew.”
“ I can get them within an hour,” Bruce sighs.
“ No, it’s okay, I’ve got them. They can stay here tonight. I’ll have them home tomorrow, a little after lunch. They’re fine, Dad. I just didn’t want you to wake up with them gone.”
“ If you’re sure…”
“ I’m sure, B.”
“Okay. Boys…Damian, no Robin next week, and Danyal… we will discuss this once you get home. Am I understood?” Bruce asks, so done with his children.
The twins nod and say in unison, “Yes, Baba.”
“... have a good night, get some sleep,” Bruce says, sounding choked up.
Dick hangs up and sinks back into his chair, resting his head in his hands, “ I want to know what exactly,” he gestures to them, “ led to this.”
“ It’s different without you, in the field. We…we were partners. It's not like that with Father, with Baba,” Damian corrects himself. “ He doesn’t listen to me.”
“ Yeah, he has trouble with that,” Dick empathizes with him. “ So I’m guessing that's what your fight was about?”
Damian nods. “ I may have yelled at him in the car. He wasn’t pleased with me. It continued till we got back to the cave.”
“ It’s hard– I’ve been on both sides of this–” Dick says, leaning forward. “ Being Robin– any Robin, current or former- it’s about keeping Batman in check. You’re going to fight and make up time and time again. You’re going to adapt and change as you learn to trust each other and grow– but that, like anything, takes time.”
“ So, what do I do? How do I get him not just to hear me but to listen?” Damian asks.
“I’d start with a direct approach– cowl off, eye to eye. Start calmly and list your grievances. Come up with solutions together. You can’t force that kind of relationship– it will never work. You just need time; everyone starts off somewhere. And to give Bruce a little leeway, he hasn’t been here for everything. He hasn’t gotten a chance to know how you fight and think in the field. That’s not something that can be simply relayed to someone; they have to experience it. Now that he’s back, he has a new Robin and Batgirl, and Tim’s got a new ID– it’s a big change. At home, it’s not just you and Tim, but Danny too. That’s a lot to adjust to… at what point did you decide to come over here?”
“ Dami was upset… he missed you. Since you’re too busy to come to Gotham, I thought I’d bring him to you,” Danny says, a bit sheepish.
“ You know you’re not supposed to leave the manor, go out as Phantom,” Dick says frowning, “ It’s dangerous.”
Danny frowns at him, “ It’s not like I was seen. I flew here invisibly.”
“ And what if you couldn’t keep that up?”
Danny snorts. “Please, don’t insult me like that.”
“ Look, you’re still recovering. I understand missing going around as Phantom; no one likes being benched, but at times like this, it’s necessary,” Dick says, leaning back. “ I get using your powers to help Damian, but this wasn’t a safe decision.”
“ I understand that what you’re saying you believe to be correct—but you don't know or understand me, and I’d prefer not to be lectured by someone I barely know,” Danny deadpans, unimpressed.
Dick quirks an eyebrow, “ excuse me?”
“ I said what I said. I honestly think none of you know what to make of me. Baba couldn’t even think up a punishment for me,” Danny says, annoyed. “ I’ve been here a month, and besides Damian and Jason– who’s only included because he knew me before– are acquaintances at best. None of you have any right to judge or lecture me.”
Quiet overtakes the room, Damian and Dick stunned. “ Tell us then,” Dick prompts. “ What was going through your head? What don’t I understand?”
“ To start, I don’t go out as Phantom; I am Phantom. That is my name.” Danny stares at him intensely. “ Yes, I acted as a vigilante in Amity, but I went by my name. My name as a ghost , which you all don’t seem to understand. I’m a halfa– half living half dead– I haven’t been human for a while. I am a different species altogether. I don’t run like a human– I have noticed the differences in myself… Your expectations of me won't match up in reality. I was a vigilante in Amity because people were getting hurt– humans and ghosts alike– not for some greater purpose calling out to me. If faced with the same choice, I’d do it every time– and I’d enjoy it, I won't say I haven’t– but, if given the choice, I’d rather not. I don’t want to have to do it. I have enough going on. I’m not a vigilante or a hero to order around. On this plane of existence, until the anti-ecto acts are repealed, I'm not even a person. I’m not sticking my neck out for a species that can’t even give me common courtesy. Individuals,” his eyes flicker to Damian, “ are a different story. So, if my brother needs some space, I’m gonna help him get it. Ghosts are made of soul and emotion; the ectoplasm just gives us physical form. Dami felt like a depressed puppy– morally, I couldn’t just let him stay like that.”
Throughout the rant the assessing offended look in Dicks eye fades to understanding, “ I apologize for making assumptions, that wasn’t fair of me. None of B’s kids have decided to try the civilian route before, and based on past actions, I just simply assumed.”
“ It would be nice if you guys actually just asked stuff,” Danny says. “ No one really includes me in things. I thought it was because of the civilian thing. If this is how you guys go about other heroes, your manners are seriously lacking.”
“ Mama definitely taught us better than that,” Damian agrees, but then turns to Danny. “ I felt like a depressed puppy?”
“ Dami, you felt like a puppy left home alone for the first time.”
Damian just huffs.
Dick cracks a smile, “ ah, so it goes further than the puppy eyes, who would have guessed.” The teasing, joking mood is gone again once looking back at Danny. “ As for the halfa thing, I think we took the classification more so as a Meta thing– ghost adjacent. I know Damian said differently when explaining for you, but I don’t think we really digested that.”
“Definitely not a meta. I’m technically a multi-dimensional being– ghosts, demons, fae, gods– all are a part of the Infinite Realms. My kind, halfas, we were a bridge between worlds, once upon a time, or so it’s been explained to me. I’ve still got a human form and traits, since that’s what I was before, but I’m also very other. Ghosts…we’re instinctual, we don’t really think things through the best, and when we do, our motivations aren’t the same. Helping, caring for my brother, keeping his best interest at heart– I can’t help that. Just like how eventually, if I get close enough to you, I won’t be able to help it. Family– fraids– I guess the closest equivalent you’d think of is a pack– is important to us. We’re not always the most rational when they’re hurt, physically, mentally, emotionally…”
“ I think there’s a lot about you we still need to know. I really am sorry if my words upset you,” Dick apologizes profusely.
Danny can tell it's genuine. “ I’m not going to say it’s okay because it’s not, but I understand. All I ask is that you don’t do that again.”
“ I’ll try my best not to, but please forgive me if I do. This is an adjustment, one that none of us have parameters for. We’re going to make mistakes,” Dick says, yawning.
“ All we can really do from this point is go up,” Danny nods. “ …Apology accepted.”
“ I’ll make sure to keep all this in mind in the future,” Dick says getting up. “ now. Why don’t we get you to bed, hum? It’s running late.” Dick sets them up on the couch– it’s a pull out– and goes to take his shower.
The boys get into bed, and once he’s sure he won't be overheard, Danny asks, “You didn’t tell them about the King thing? Did you?”
“ I take it you approve of my choice?” Damian asks, rolling onto his side.
“ I honestly thought everyone knew and wasn’t bringing it up, but Dick would have added it into his lecture” Danny says. “Thanks.”
“ Of course, I am no fool.”
“ Though, this does put somewhat of a hindrance on my ability to get back to the realms. Once my hands got good enough, I was gonna use it as a reason to convince Baba that I should be allowed to build a portal in the cave.”
“ There are other ways of persuasion… You could argue it’s for your health. You do need the ectoplasm,” Damian reminds. “ … how long until you start to get sick? We both know you will.”
“I should be fine for a couple of months, I think,” Danny says softly. “ I lost a lot on the exam table…Gotham's got natural ectoplasm- nothing like what Amity has- but it's been enough to keep me stable so far… but it’s far from clean. Once I get back, I’ll need a detox at best, but I should be fine. I think.”
“That’s a lot of guesswork, ahki…” Damain said, frowning at him. “ Earlier…you sounded like Mama during a dressing down– that time with our third Hensōjutsu teacher. When Mama got mad at him for our lack of progress– when he told her we were hopeless–”
“ I did not sound like that.” Danny frowns at him.
“Yes, you did.”
“ Oh, my ancients, no I didn’t. I sound nothing like Mama– forget it. I’m going to bed,” Danny yawns and turns over. He gets comfortable, enjoying the silence. Unable to help himself, he asks, “... have you noticed anything off with Tim? He feels sick. He’s been like that since I got here. I didn’t feel anything like that at the funeral. I thought it could be allergies or something, but he doesn’t seem to have any symptoms.”
Damian’s eyebrows scrunch up. “ No... I don’t think so.”
“ Huh, odd, maybe it’s nothing, night Dami,” Danny yawns, rolling over into Morpheus' teasing embrace.