Chapter Text
Batman has seen a lot of things. He’s prepared to see a lot more. From friends turning dark, to children stealing tires Batman tries to stay prepared. So when he comes across a child (assumed) meta vigilante, battered and bruised, he’s not surprised per say. More concerned and protective.
“What all hurts?” Are Batman’s first words to this teenage vigilante, who can’t be over 16. Said teen jumps, clearly too focused on his injuries to tell he’s been accompanied by the Bat.
“Oh, uh… I think it’s just my side and left shoulder. I just need a minute and then I’ll be out of your hair Mr.Batman.” He speaks as though he isn’t concerned about his wellbeing in a way that the bat can’t help but worry about. Why was he so bruised? Where did he come from? Where are his parents?
And… okay, look-Bruce isn’t oblivious to his children’s opinions on his constant increase in caretaking. But the way this kid was talking made him seriously concerned for the child’s home life.
The kid has white hair that deifies the laws of physics, floating as if he’s underwater. a black hazmat suit littered with shot wounds and tears. Clearly he hasn’t had the chance to fix up the stitches that are on display through the ripped suit. He has white gloves and boots, with an equally white utility belt around his waist. A stylized DP adorns the teens chest. And a large satchel around his neck.
“You are far too wounded to just walk this off. I can drive you to the hospi-,“
The kid cuts him off.
“No hospitals. It’s quite literally illegal to be me, and they’re supposed to send me over to be tested if seen,” Illegal? That can’t be right. He’ll ask him later.
“No hospitals,” He agrees, “I have someone who can stitch your wounds up. Will you allow us to help you?” His voice is firm but shifts to gentle at the end.
The boy looks at him, slightly swaying, eyes barley staying open. He’s so tired. He's been at this for at least a week, maybe more, sleeps whenever he can. Maybe one night couldn’t hurt, right?
“No hospitals?”
“No hospitals.”
“..Okay. My names Phantom by the way,” He says, and Bruce let’s out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He informs Alfred of the incoming guest, and has Oracle send the Batmobile.
———
They make it to the cave with no problems. Oracle and Alfred are station at their respective places. Nightwing was in Gotham for a little while, so he was resting on a couch with Spoiler, and Red Robin. The three vigilantes watch curiously as Batman and an unnamed meta(?) step out the Batmobile. They tense when they see the condition he’s in.
Nightwing is the first to recover and lighten things up. He walks toward him and clears his throat, “Hey there, nice to meet you! Name’s Nightwing!” He holds out a hand for him to shake, which he accepts.
“Hi, I know you. My sister says you’re the most trustworthy bat. And my name’s Phantom,” The kid- Phantom - says, a little more relaxed than before. And he can’t help but wonder if that has something to do with the good word his sister put in for him. He gleams brighter at the thought as they move there way towards the infirmary.
“Aww! Well I’m glad you’ve heard good things about me!” He says cheerily, “So, how’d you get like this? I can’t imagine you wanted a ripped suit,” He earns a light huff of amusement from their guest.
“Nope, just a code: P.F.O.-red,” he says absentmindedly, rubbing the back of his neck. The vigilantes look at his expectantly.
“P.F.O.-red?”
“Parents Found Out. They’ve been hunting my alter-ego Phantom for two years now. Wanting to rip him apart ’Molecule by Molecule’ as mom so kindly put it,”
Everyone tensed, Nightwing’s face became stern trying to hide his anger from this clearly traumatized kid. B didn’t look any better, probably coming up with contingencies for if these new villains came for Phantom. Spoiler and Red Robin looked at each other, a silent conversation of sorts happening before they both grew a wide smirk.
“Yeah, so we had a couple plans just in case they found out about me. But the main ones were P.F.O.-green or the good ending, as my friend liked to say and P.F.O-red or the bad ending. We had a bunch of runaway bags all around town so that if the bad ending occurred I’d be okay,” He finishes explaining calmly, now sitting in the infirmary.
As the bats digest this information, Alfred with a domino mask steps in front of Phantom.
“Hello Mister Phantom. My name is Penny-one or Agent-A, whichever you prefer. I will be the one catering to your wounds. Could you please takes your top off, and please explain how exactly you got these injuries?” Alfred asks, walking to his cart to grab disinfectant.
“Um.. Sure. Okay, so I was making my rounds per usual, and my parents found me just as I was finishing up a fight,” He hisses a little when the disinfectant is first applied. Batman can feel his blood boiling at the sight of the boy’s chest.
His chest is littered with long healed wounds, from small scars to huge bruises. His left arm has Lichtenberg scars that crawl up around his torso and slightly to his neck. Batman’s jaw tightens as he sees the giant Y-shaped scar on Phantom’s torso. He already doesn’t like where this conversation is headed.
“Now, usually I can sneak into the lab and sabotage their equipment so that it doesn’t, like, kill me,” Phantom doesn’t see it, but Nightwing’s eyebrow twitched in irritation at the boy’s usual routine.
“But I guess this time this contraption wasn’t downstairs in the lab. They shot a— what the fuck did they say? Fenton turbo gun? Probably.. Anyway they hit me with that, but it messed me up so bad that it activated my de-transformation,” Phantom pauses, hands squeezing his knees like it’ll stop the feeling of complete and utter betrayal.
“When they found out… They-,” Phantom takes a deep breath, blinking back tears. He clears his throat, “They did what they promised. Molecule by molecule, organ by organ. But they didn’t get super far, my friends and sister broke in and freed me. Um, there’s this Y-shaped indent on my torso now. There’s no bullets in my body anymore, and I either have a concussion or a sleep deprived headache,” He finishes. And Alfred’s done wiping his injuries down and is off to the stitches.
The bats are outraged.
What kind of parent would do such a thing to their own child? Oh, there would be hell to pay.
Batman is quick to recover, “Earlier you said that it’s illegal to be you. What did you mean by that?” The statement still irked him. If this child’s a meta, then he should be protected under the meta-protection acts. Did his parents lie to him?
“I’m not a meta, technically,” What? “I’m a ghost,” What?? “Or ecto-entity if you’d prefer the scientific term. I’m a halfa, half ghost half human. Don’t ask how I died it’s really rude in ghost culture. Anyways I doubt you’ve heard of it since we have, like, a huge media block. But there’s a thing called the Anti-ecto-Acts which states that anyone that is an ecto-entity - me -, luminal or ecto-contaminated is to be turned over to the government to be legally experimented, exploited and eventually exterminated on.”
“He’s right B,” Oracle chimes in, already trying to learn more about the acts, Red Robin doing the same. “This is a huge violation of the Meta-protection acts.”
This was bad. “You said your situation was heavily censored,” Phantom nods “Do you know any ways to break into it?”
“Oh, yeah,” Phantom answers immediately, “After my stitches are done I’ll need a spare computer. And then, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to sleep here? Just so I can recharge please?”
Batman- no -Bruce’s eyes soften at the child. This boy had died, halfway or not, he died. He died and still lended help to others. The help he was not even offered. “You can do that when you wake up. Get some rest Phantom,” He says, incredibly soft and gently.
Phantom’s eyes slightly widened at the statement. “Oh, okay then. Thanks, Batman,” He smiles softly, examines Alfred’s work.
Red Robin and Spoiler look at each other again, quietly snickering to one another. Spoiler takes out her phone and types into the family group chat two simple words she knew would cause chaos.
-[New Brother]
Several people are typing…