Archive of Our Own ^beta

The plates of Danny's mask shifted, sliding the plates to the sides to open his 'mouth.'

Redirecting power of the shields by 20 percent. The regularly thick walls of his ghost shield thinned, Danny stared straight ahead as the laser begun charging. Concentrating energy towards penetrating power, adjusting destructive power accordingly.

Danny crouched down, putting a hand upon his knee and the other on the floor of the roof. Searching target... target long distance... adjusting energy needed for travel accordingly. Redirecting 1 percent of shield power towards travel costs. Danny stared straight ahead unblinkingly. Estimated charge time of 10.8 seconds, searching quickest route.

The mechanical eyeball floating overhead showed him a map of the city. Quickest route found, adjusting energy levels towards speed and penetration, lowering destructive power further... condensing ectoplasmic laser.

Target acquired... locking on. Danny breathed in slightly, Ectoplasmic laser fully charged, target locked on. Then exhaled. The mechanical eyeball nearest his target zeroing in on them as he stared down their profile unblinkingly. Goodbye, enemy of the hero Phantom.

You will not be missed.

"There is two of you."

Logos leaned back in his seat, resting his head against his fist as he stared at a screen displaying Pathos, currently being buried beneath a mass of different ghostly animals. "That there is."

Distain crossed Damian's face. "Who in their right mind would ever clone the likes of you, brother?" He waved a hand at the screen, a small flash of envy that crossed his heart over seeing the clone buried beneath a mass of fluff, before blinking, and jerking his head at Daniel's direction. "Full offense."

"None taken." Logos's voice was cold and emotionless, containing a more mechanical edge due to the voice changer installed in his gas mask. "Pathos is not my clone, he is half of me." Logos raised his other hand before Damian could speak. "We were torn apart, in case you were wondering."

Damian hummed, moving his eyes away from the screen and around the lab. Giving a begrudging nod at the extreme cleanliness, and eyeing a few of the tech left around, before turning back to his twin with a raised eyebrow. "I can't imagine the reason you called me here was for a mere chat."

Logos nodded. "Pathos wishes to become a hero, yet I have a different goal." Logos stood up from his chair, walking over to Damian until he was relatively close and held out a hand. "Such that I am unable to watch over him at every turn, so, dear brother. Will you look over him in my stead?"

Damian stared at the outstretched hand, before back at Daniel's gas mask covered face. His face was calm as he stared back at his twin, before clicking his tongue. "Tt. As pathetic as always. Such incompetence that you need others to clean up whatever mess your other half will surely bring." Damian crossed his arms, glaring at his twin.

"I will not be that person, Daniel."

Logos hummed. "The probability of you saying no was quite high, so I am not surprised." He walked past Damian, beckoning his twin with a hand to follow as he stopped at a nearby table, quickly gathering a few items he sought after. "These are the objects that will 'sweeten the deal' as some would say."

Said objects looked to be a few buttons, a ball, a laser pointer, and an arm bracer.

"And you expect me to accept to watch over your other half, for mere trinkets?" Damian wrinkled his nose, as he stared at Daniel as if he were an idiot, which he very surely believes he is. "I expected you to be smarter than that, but I am not surprised by your usual incompetence."

Logos shook his head. "These are not mere trinkets, brother, and I know you recognize that as well. These," Danny picked up the few small buttons, tossing them at Damian, who easily caught them. "Will are capable of expanding into ectoplasmic nets, that will also deliver a shock to those who try to get out of them, nothing lethal, so worry not about your father having an issue with them."

Damian hummed, holding one of the buttons up to his eyes. Logos waved to a nearby target that he set up for this exact circumstance. "Go ahead, try it."

Damian glanced at his twin, before throwing the button at the target. It expanded into a large net that shouldn't have been able to be held in such a small object, wrapping around the target.

"Unfortunately, you will be unable to test the shock function at this moment, so you will have to test it later on a live subject."

"Tt."

Logos tilted his head. "You seem displeased."

"That you are capable? Yes. I am."

Logos hummed, before taking up the ball. "That is a mechanical eye, you be able to see through it, which would certainly make it easier for you who stalks the night, yes?" Damian clicked his tongue, and Logos took that as enough to continue. "You will be able to look through it with this," He picked up the arm bracer in his other hand and handed both items to Damian. "The bracer connects to the eye, which will show you a live recording of what is happening on the other side." Logos turned to pick up the laser pointer, before blinking. "Ah, just will it to move, and it will. So long as you have the bracer on."

Damian stared at the bracer for a moment, before swiftly putting it on, and the mechanical eye sprang to life as soon as he finished. A screen appeared over his arm, giving him a direct look through the eye's position. He tested the movement and found it true.

"Being torn apart may have been the best thing that has happened to you, brother."

"Perhaps." Logos threw the laser pointer at Damian, which he caught. "That is a small, portable laser, while also acting as a regular laser pointer. Just twist the knob at the bottom and you'll be able to adjust it." Logos' eyes narrowed. "Do not test it in here, or anywhere near here, for that matter."

Damian pocketed it silently, before recrossing his arms. He grunted.

"Pathos will be happy to receive your cooperation, though he is quite emotional, I expect you to work around that." Logos held out a hand, and Damian stared at it for a good few moments, before begrudgingly putting his hand in his twin's for a handshake.

Damian had a foreboding feeling that he would regret ever accepting this deal, and not even a minute after meeting him he already did.

"Pathos. Come in." Danny was leaned over keyboard, staring straight ahead at his screen. "Pathos. Come in. I know you can hear me."

Silence was his only answer.

He sat back in his seat, fingers gliding over his keyboard as he zeroed in on the energy signature of Phantom's last location.

Subject not found.

His fingers stilled as he stared at the message. Then resumed their movements as he instead sent out a city-wide search for Phantom's energy signature, rather than one location.

Subject not found.

Was the message relayed to him after a few minutes. Danny leaned back in his seat, drumming a finger against his desk as he contemplated what to do next.

He leaned forward and connected to a faraway communication device with a few clicks.

"Damian."

===

"Damian."

The cold voice cut through the silence of the batcave with relative ease. The occupants freezing, before slowly looking over to Damian, who, for the most part, was calm and collected as he lifted the arm bracer up his face.

"What." Damian spat out the word like poison, as a scowl appeared over his face. It was inconvenient that he called him now of all times.

Logos rested his elbows on his desk as he folded his hands. "My apologies, if this moment is inconvenient for you-"

"It is." Damian's scowl deepened.

"-But this is a matter of great importance, and you are the only one I can trust to handle this task." Danny continued, as if he weren't interrupted.

"And what could be so important?" Damian raised an eyebrow.

"I am unable to locate Pathos, and I suspect foul play is afoot." The others in the room tensed, with Batman slinking over and standing right in front of his son. "I will not ask you to do much, but I require your assistance nonetheless."

Batman's eyes narrowed, and Damian grit his teeth. "What do you want?"

"I simply need you to find any clues as to who-or what- took him, and preferably where he was taken, after that I will take the matter from your hands." Logos leaned away from the computer, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. "Of course, if you choose to accept, I will most certainly make it worth your while."

Damian was silent for a moment, drumming his fingers against his leg as he considered his options, he grunted. "I have cleaned up after that mess you call Pathos more than I would have liked to, and while your items are certainly useful, I will need a more detailed description of what you plan to give me."

Danny nodded, as if he expected this. "One-" He held up his index finger. "-Item of your choosing. Ranging from anything I currently have-besides a few certain items- in my possession, or something you wish for me to create."

Damian narrowed his eyes. That was... an exceedingly better reward than he was hoping for, he almost forgot the others in the room as he drummed his fingers against his leg again. His previous opinion being swayed.

"I will see what I can do."

'Wonderful." Danny nodded his head in thanks. "I thank you for your cooperation, big brother."

Damian stilled, and everyone else's eyes widened.

Logos' call ended as soon as brother left his mouth, and Damian wanted to curse. That stupid-

"Damian." His father called out to him, narrowed eyes looking down at his youngest (but apparently that was now called into question) son that basically told him to explain right then and there.

He knew he wouldn't be able to get out of this easily.

Damian landed with a small thud in the alleyway, standing up and walking forward while unsheathing his blade. It drew an elegant arc in the air, before its tip was placed at another's throat, forcing them to tilt their head upwards to avoid injury. "What do you think you are doing here?"

Eyes were peeled open slowly, and the wheezing that filled the alleyway took on a more amused edge. "I don't know, why do you think I'm here," Danny tried to tilt his head, before stopping with a wince and a sharp intake. "Can't I just visit my big bro, from time to time?"

Damian tilted his head slightly, eyes roaming over the various wounds over his brother's body and the amount of ectoplasm on the ground around him, before leaving Danny with the most unpressed look he could make. Danny chuckled wetly, before devolving into a coughing fit, then smiling wryly. "Heh, ya got me I guess."

"Tt." Damian lowered his blade, enough for Danny to no longer have to strain his head upwards. "What brought you to this state, Daniel? Those inventors you keep around are certainly brilliant, but incompetent." Damian's eyes narrowed. "So who."

"Yea, wasn't them. Can't really do that when you're blown to smitheries, right?" Danny chuckled humorlessly, before falling silent with a pained wheeze. His head threatened to fall downwards, and his eyelids drooped. A slight press against his neck snapped him back into the waking world. "Right, right. Okay so, would you believe me if I said that a," Danny swallowed. "A government branch is currently chasing me after they found out about my half-dead status?"

Damian stared silently, then sighed. "I'm not surprised, you always were an idiot." Danny puffed up his cheeks indignantly. "Hey! It wasn't my fault this time!"

"Whatever you say, Daniel." Damian pressed the tip of his sword further against Danny's throat. "That still does not explain why you came here, of all places."

"Amity Park's compromised for me, and well." Danny gave a half shrug, or at least tried too before wincing. "This is one of the last places they would look, and I'm too," Danny gesture to himself. "You know, to go for another fly."

Damian nodded. "I can see that." Damian dissected Danny with his eyes, taking in his injuries, his ruined outfit, the blood running down his face over one of his eyes.

Hm.

Damian let out an annoyed sigh, before twirling his sword away from Danny's neck and putting it back into its sheathe. He lifted the edge of his cape. "Get in before I regret this."

Danny blinked in surprised confusion. "What?"

Damian scowled. "Get. In." He flapped the edge of his cape for emphasis, and Danny blinked again, before suddenly being hit with a wave of understanding. "Oh, oh! Really?"

"I will not be repeating myself for a third time."

"Aw! I knew you cared about me!" Danny flew into Damian's cape, leaving a trail of ectoplasm behind in his flight that was quickly taken hold of by gravity and splattered against the ground.

Damian pulled a face, because he already felt like he regretted doing this.

"Robin, where are you?" His father's voice coming from his comm snapped him from his regret. He jumped onto a nearby pipe and flipped himself up onto one of the buildings, gritting his teeth in annoyance as Danny clapped with his cape. He glanced back at the alleyway, before turning.

"On my way, father." And just like that, he was out into the night with one extra (annoying) passenger.

Vlad Masters. Ceo of Vladco, survivor of Ecto-acne, first halfa to have ever come into existence and brilliant scientist.

Is currently lost.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before reopening them. He crouched down, before jumping up and over a nearby fence, determined to wander around in hopes of finding a solution to this predicament.

Curse you, Jack Fenton. He didn't know how, but everything is always, undeniably that oaf's fault.

===

Billy Batson dashed into a nearby alley, urging his legs to keep moving despite the burning feeling in both his legs and chest that demanded he stop. His eyes quickly scanned the alleyway, looking for anywhere to hide, or a path to continue his escape, only for despair to consume his heart.

A dead end.

A loud bark came from behind him, and he turned, blood rushing in his ears as he backed away slowly. He slowly moved his hands forward in front of him, a weak, fearful smile on his face. "E-Easy there, doggies. We can, we can talk this out. Yea?"

The biggest of the three dogs currently chasing him stepped forward, and he stepped back. The dog was all skin and bones, so much so that its ribs were clearly on display, the two smaller dogs behind it weren't faring much better, and only looked to have just a bit more meat on their bones than the one in front. The dog growled lowly, taking another step forward, while Billy took another step back.

"Ok uh, just- just wait a second okay...?" Billy slowly reached a hand up to the strap of his old bag and lifting it from his back. He slowly unzipped it and reached inside, digging around while keeping his eyes straight on of the dog in front of him, his hand hit his desired object and he slowly pulled it from his bag, before throwing it in front of the dog.

The dog sniffed the object, before taking the pack of jerky and slowly walking backwards, eyes trained on the human in front. Billy felt like crying.

'That was supposed to be my lunch and Dinner...'

The dog threw the pack of jerky over its shoulder, and the two dogs behind didn't waste a moment before ripping open the packaging and chowing down on the jerky inside. With each and every chomp, Billy felt more and more like he would cry. From his position, he could see the amount being reduced down to the single digits under seconds, before the two dogs stopped eating, instead licking the crumbs from the packaging and then raising their heads to bark happily, causing Billy to almost smile.

Almost.

If he weren't lamenting over the fate of his lunch and dinner for the next few days being gone in under 10 seconds.

The dog in front barked again, taking another step forward and Billy flinched. "Oh, oh! Uh, I'm sorry but I don't have anything else. So, so uh." Billy take another step backwards, cold sweat running down his face as he felt his back hit the wall. "So how about you guys, you know, leave me alone now?" He squeaked out.

The biggest dog growled lowly before, with surprising speed, ran forward and sank its teeth into Billy's bag. "He- HEY! Wait!" Billy struggled to both pull the bag back into his arms and not cause it to tear at the same time.

Unfortunately, very difficult to do in this situation.

"How are you so strong!?" Billy nearly sobbed, he's losing to a dog! "I only have one of these you know!? So let go already!" Billy held onto his bag's straps for tear life, struggling to gain more ground in this tug of war, before the sound of leather starting to tear reached his ears.

"My bag!" Billy planted his feet into the ground, finally succeeding in gaining some from of ground when he readjusted his hold from the straps to the top of it, before the other two dogs joined in.

He thinks he's going to lose a bag.

"Meow."

All movement ceased. The sound of struggle being replaced by silence as both human and dog(s) looked for the source of the sound.

"Meow."

They looked up, and a singular (extremely fluffy) black cat with fully red eyes stared back. The two younger dogs whined, ears lowering as the biggest began to growl.

"Meow." The cat meowed for a third time, staring down the three dogs intensely. The smaller dogs instantly let go, and fearfully backed away while the biggest ears lowered, yet their teeth was still lodged into Billy's bag.

"Meow." It meowed once more, fixing the biggest dog with the full brunt of its stare, and paralyzing it from fear, before a few seconds later it let go of the bag and backed away, turning around and barking at the two smaller dogs as they ran away from alleyway.

Billy blinked, staring at the retreating backs of the dogs until he couldn't see them, in disbelief. He stared back up at the cat, who licked the back of its paw and raised it up to its head to groom its fur. Billy quickly stared at its neck, seeing the lack of a pet collar of any kind.

"Meow." The cat stared at him with one open eye, and Billy jolted. "Oh! Uh! Thank you!" Billy nodded his head in thankfulness, before staring at his bag. "Oh right. My bag."

Billy felt like crying. Staring down at the nearly broken bag covered with bite marks. Actually, scratch that.

So he started crying.

The spot behind him turned a tad colder, the ghost of a hand around his neck and Damian barely considered anything before he drew his sword in a reverse grip and stabbed behind him.

"Ah, you wound me brother dearest, not even a hello?" Danny rested his hand against the back his brother's throat, giving only the slightest of flinches to the sword stabbed through his chest and then flashing his brother a grin.

"Tt. The likes of you does not deserve a hello." Damian twisted his sword to the side, and Danny clicked his tongue. The hand on Damian's throat tightening a bit. "Mom said to be nice to me, you know."

"Cease to exist, and I might consider it."

Danny leaned his face forward, as the brother's side-eyed the other. "Aw, but you would miss me, wouldn't you? Who else would you be able to stab repeatedly with a sword?"

The hand around his throat tightened further.

"I can list off a number of few neither Grandfather nor Mother would miss among the lower ranks of the League." Damian pushed his sword further through Danny's chest, twisting it a bit more as Danny groaned.

"You know I'm gonna have to clean this, right?"

"Good."

"Would you care to tell me what exactly you see in that man?" Danny floated down onto the couch currently occupied by Damian, leaning back against its cushions while idling throwing a knife up and down.

"He is a great warrior, and my blood father, so the position by his side is mine by birthright." Damian ran the cloth up and down his blade, previously covered in the blood of a fallen.

Danny chuckled. "Birthright this, birthright that. You're already the heir, dearest brother." Danny flicked his wrist, and the knife made a clean cut through the air and hit the wall. "You really do need to pick one, dear brother."

"While I find it delightful that you have already accepted your place second to me," Damian lifted his sword up into the light, looking at the blade for any spot of blood he missed. "You need to remove yourself from matters that don't need your input."

Danny smirked, leaning back to place his head on the wall. "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, but ah, let me just say this last thing. Are you sure he would even accept you?" Danny waved a hand through the air, toxic green meeting emerald as Danny whispered, expression as if he was saying some great, yet secret, truth. "You know how he is, all justice, no killing. Would he even glance at someone like you, dear brother?"

Damian tilted his head slightly, bringing his sword back down to wipe away at it with the cloth. "Tt. I suggest you cease using your tongue, lest you find it taken away as swift as your right as heir."

Danny chuckled, opening his mouth to speak-

"Or perhaps I should tell Grandfather of your little pet project, or perhaps dear Mother. Or even both."

Danny's head stilled, the smirk on his face replaced by dangerous neutrality. The hand nearest to Damian twitched, as Danny's other hand dropped into his lap.

Silence.

Then, movement.

A small bit of green splashed onto Damian's cheek, and as such, brought the cloth up to wipe it away calmly. Danny's head tilted the slightest bit, a silent threat in his eyes as he stared down his brother.

"I believe," He started, briefing glancing at the sword stabbed through his hand, just a few inches away from his face, before staring back into Damian's eyes. "That it would be wise if not a word left that tongue of yours, Damian."

"As if you could threaten me, even with your new status as among the half dead, Daniel." Damian yanked his sword out of Danny's hand, clicking his tongue at the ectoplasm coating it as Danny pulled his hand back, laying it limply against his lap. Damian flicked his blade through the air, successfully clearing away some of the substance covering his blade.

Danny scoffed. "As if you could even hope to kill me, dear brother."

"You say that as if you weren't the one cowering on the ground beneath me at the end of our duel, before running away with your tail tucked between your legs." Damian resumed wiping the cloth over his blade.

Danny pouted lifting his hand up to watch the ectoplasm drip from his wound. "Yea yea, whatever." Damian's eyes glanced over to Danny's hand, before glancing down at the couch, before back at his sword. "Do not allow your disgusting lifeblood to stain my couch."

Danny gave a cheeky grin. "Oh? What're you gonna do if I do that, huh?"

"I'll drown you in the deepest reaches of the Lazarus Pit."

"Ok, wow. Didn't mom said we shouldn't kill each other?" Danny raised a brow, but repositioned his hand a bit.

"At Mother's behest, I have stopped myself from sending you further than a foot in the grave." Damian stood up, sheathing his sword as he walked away, throwing the cloth to Danny (which he caught). "Clean your hand, I do not wish for it to drip everywhere."

Danny snorted. "Oh, so you can be nice," Danny glanced down at the blood (and ectoplasm) stained cloth, deadpanning. "Oh you fruit loop."

Damian was already out the door.

There was something living in their walls.

Tim was 100% certain of this, and if he was aware then Alfred undoubtedly was as well. But in the off chance he wasn't then it fell to Tim to get whatever was living in their walls out of their walls.

He's been relentlessly checking the cameras, even installing something that would make sure to alert him of anything unusual popping out of the Manor walls and connecting him to the camera nearest to its location.

But nothing.

His caffeine has been disappearing too. Which, while he does get more sleep, is a line you should never cross for any person!

Of course, the one time he actually caught the bugger he was dead on his feet and barely aware of anything. He walked into the kitchen, walked right past Alfred giving a tiny goddamn eastern dragon a sugar cube. A sugar cube of all things, opened the fridge, despaired at the lack of his caffeine, poured himself a glass of milk, drank it and walked right back out.

When he woke up, he barely remembered anything from that event. All he remembered was a lack of caffeine, Alfred, a sugar cube and having to drink milk.

So after the accident, 5-year-old Danny didn't end up in the zone, but instead on his parents basement floor like usual.

A while later his parents have been running tests on him, nothing that would hurt, only things like checking the condition of his body, using a stethoscope to see if he still had a heart, drawing a bit of lifeblood (via syringe) and testing his genetic makeup.

Nothing like dissection, like they would've wanted to do to any other ghost, but not to their son, never. Every test they put him through is utterly safe and harmless.

Like, a visit to the doctor's office.

Even giving him some candy for his efforts, when they found out he could manipulate his body to gain a mouth and the cutest little fangs. Surprisingly, he still had organs, except his stomach acid has been replaced by ectoplasm, that seemed to breakdown whatever food thrown in there into pure energy.

After the tests, they send him off so they could... work on a few things. Mostly the results of their tests, and how to make the ghost portal decidedly less lethal than it was currently capable of being to not have a repeat of this incident.

After working through all of the tests they could do, they finally let him leave the house, after determining that everything should be fine for his current body.

What a mistake that was.

You see, not a lot of people in Amity Park really practiced stranger danger. Everyone looked out for each other, most people knew everyone in certain ways, and tourists were basically null, so they didn't have much to fear in that area.

So, children were just allowed to go out and about because they basically knew most of the adults.

Of course, such a thing came back to bite them hard in the ass. For under a little  a week, was Danny kidnapped.

By who? The Fentons had no way of knowing.

===

Danny really liked the man in white, they were really nice! He approached him while he was out on the playground. Jazz dropped him off here and said she would be back in a few minutes because she wanted to go get something that she forgot, even said on the way back she would get ice cream!

A while later, while he was trying to climb up the ladder of the slide, he was struggling to do so, then the guy helped him up to the top of the slide! He even did it more than once too!

Then, when he was in the sandpit, he was a bit weirded out because the sudden lack of kids in the playground, but it was fine! The guy even helped him make sandcastles, he was really, really good at making sandcastles, and even helped Danny make the bestest one he's ever seen!

Another while later, and Danny was getting a bit concerned about where Jazz was, she said she wouldn't be long, but it was a while since he saw her. He was waiting with his new friend for a bit, before a bit more time later his friend suggested that they go find her.

So, Danny sat in his friend's arm, and they left to go find his sister.

===

Jazz was running far later than she thought she would've. Due to repeated interruptions along the way, but she bought Danny a bigger portion of ice cream as apology, so she hopes he would forgive her for taking so long.

When she got there, the ground was entirely empty.

She looked around desperately for her brother, before running home to tell her parents.

===

Danny liked experiments, they didn't hurt, only felt a lil bit funny, like ticklish funny, and he gets some candy at the end of it too!

So, yea, Danny did like experiments.

Now though, he found he only liked the experiments done by his parents. They didn't hurt, and felt comfortable and safe because his parents were there and because they made it as comfortable as they could.

But the ones done by the people in white suits and lab coats didn't feel comfortable, or safe.

They hurt.

Blunt things didn't hurt, as they soon realized because of his cotton stuffed body, and his organs were also quite resilient to blunt force. Then they cut him open, and that hurt, hurt so much that he cried and wailed and shook his everything to try and get them to stop.

But they didn't stop, never stopped. They even took pride and joy in making him squirm around. They looked at and treated him as if he wasn't even human, which yea he techna- technicly- technically wasn't anymore since he heard his parents talking about it but still, they were being really mean.

They said words that went right over his head, at least when his parents used words like that, they explained what it meant in smaller words.

He hated this place, he hated the men in white suits, and he hated the ones in lab coats even more.

He wanted to go back home.

===

5 years later, the GIW base was raided due the Anti-Ecto acts being a violation of rights, unearthed by the Fentons and brought to light by the Justice League.

The heroes who raided the base found multiple ghosts held captive, the most sickening thing being that the oldest ghost wasn't even 20, only being 18 years of age, when asked their age.

They opened up a room that was locked down tightly for some reason, perhaps a volatile experiment gone wrong or perhaps, another Conner situation. But no, all that was there were two Teddy Bears stuffed away in the corner, trying to make themselves even smaller than they already was in a desperate attempt to not be seen, when they hesitantly stepped in the room, one of them removed itself from the other one, spreading its arms out to either side of itself and standing in front of the other one protectively.

Its face shifted, as a mouth appeared. It bared its fangs and let out a low, animal-like growl as ice started to spread onto the ground from itself and a mist fell from its mouth.

===

Danny didn't know what the muffled sounds that managed to penetrate the wall meant, not what was causing them exactly. Maybe they caught a new ghost? He didn't know.

When a while later, did the door to their cell prison open, did Danny have a choice to make, one he didn't even need to think twice about. He may not know all of his powers correctly, nor know how to properly use them and he most likely wouldn't be able to do much damage.

But he wasn't about to let them hurt his new baby sister, sure, she may be a clone and they expected him to not like her. But he didn't care what they thought, if they think they could take her without a fight.

Well, they were dead wrong.

The members of the Justice League sat in silence, joined by a few members of Justice League Dark.

They were almost ready to start their meeting.

Almost.

"Where is John Constantine?" Batman stared at those gathered around the table, one spot currently vacant. Zatanna spoke up. "He's coming."

Batman narrowed his eyes.

"I don't know how," Zatanna nodded. "But he's coming."

The table was silent for a few moments, before Superman hesitantly spoke up. "Maybe he's running late?" At Batman's look Superman felt the need to add. "You know, he could've gotten stuck up with another magic user, or something."

Superman brought a hand up to rub at his neck as he laughed awkwardly, before promptly shutting up at the look Batman sent with an even more awkward smile. The silence was notably loud, such that it made it quite easy to determine who and where the sound of crunching came from.

Flash swallowed. "What?" He dug his hand in the bag of chips, only to pout at it being empty. He quickly ran from and to his seat in, well, a flash. Laying down his armful of chips, he picked up one and opened it, back to stuffing his face. "It's not like we're starting yet or anything."

Batman's eyes narrowed.

Flash blinked, looking down at the chips in his hand, the one on the table, and then back at Batman. He picked one up and held it out in his direction. "Want one?"

Batman glared.

Flash hesitantly brought his hand back down, before sticking his hand in his chip bag and eating some more, this time quietly.

Minutes passed by with the various League members gathered around sitting ramrod straight. A few more minutes passed, and they started to relax (except batman), a couple more and some of them started up conversation with each other, with some others joining in.

Batman took the time to work through a few files, giving the occasional grunt and hm whenever Superman and Wonder Woman tried to drag him into their conversation.

It was then that a noticeable heat spread inside the room, rising in temperature with each passing second until it was no longer ignorable. Just then, when the heat reached its highest point, with the members of the League already standing from their seats, a wave of black flame appeared in a circular pattern and the League tensed, magic gathering at the fingertips of some and battle stances being fallen into by others.

The circular flame shot up, high enough to reach the ceiling and not a second later, in its place was a giant mass of flaming feathers curled into a ball.

A groan came from the middle of it, and a few seconds later-with what sounded like a huff- did the mass uncurl just enough to see the owner of said groan.

"Ello." John Constantine raised a hand and gave a two fingered salute. Everyone in the room blinked at the man currently leaning against the- creature? Being?- in just pants. "I would say this isn't what it looks like, but its exactly what it looks like."

Zatanna's eyes narrowed, before she inhaled sharply. "Constantine." She hissed out quietly, as if trying not to draw the being's attention. "What is-" She gestured at the creature. "-He of all beings doing here?!"

"Being used as a living heater."

Zatanna blinked again in surprise as she stumbled over her words. "I- what-?"

"You heard me. It's colder than Santa's tits in our house, and I'm not paying even more money for a heater when I have a living one right here." Constantine deadpanned, very shamelessly sinking back into the mass of feathers behind him and giving a most certainly exaggerated sigh to prove his point.

"But- But he's," Zatanna gestures at the phoenix again, this time with both hands. "Him. How are you okay with this!?" That time she spoke to the phoenix, rather than Constantine.

The being in question peeked open an eye, before huffing in annoyance and closing back its eye.

"So uh," Flash spoke up, rubbing his hands together. "Not to interrupt, but uh, do you mind explaining for the rest of us not in the know?"

Zatanna blinked, staring at the other League members in surprise as if she forgot they were there. She awkwardly coughed into her fist. "Right, yes." She cleared her throat, before gesturing towards the giant mass of feathers. "That being is one of the more infamous of those heralding from the Infinite Realms, because that's its goddamn Duke." Zatanna rubbed her head, as if she were getting a migraine just thinking about it. "Constantine, how did you even-"

"We met on a rainy night, and he lit up my cig and proposed his love for me." Constantine said simply.

The League stared in bafflement. Zatanna had a skeptical look all over her face. "I'm not believing that. It's too much of a stretch, even for you."

Constantine shrugged. "Okay so would you believe me if I said I sold like half my soul and conned this other guy by swearing my soul to this big guy for his protection?" Constantine deadpanned.

"Yes, actually." Zatanna matched Constantine's deadpan with a look of her own.

"Nowhere to run now, kid." Red Hood stepped forwards, hands empty and at his sides. "You're a slippery one, I'll give you that."

Danny sighed, slumping his shoulders in defeat. He knows he could just phase through the wall again, but then that would restart this whole chase again and Danny is just, tired.

So, so tired, of everything. Of running and hiding and constantly looking over his shoulder every step he took. He closed his eyes. "Look, I didn't mean to kill him, alright."

Red Hood tilted his head. "You sure? Because I certainly remember you holding his decapitated head." His voice was amused, because Danny denied meaning to kill him, or the fact that the Joker was decapitated, he wouldn't know.

Danny held out his hands and looked at Red Hood with tired eyes. "Look, I won't run anymore so just. Just take me to jail or whatever."

Red Hood froze.

Danny stared in confusion, did he say something wrong?

"Oh," Red Hood held a hand to his face. "Oh I'm an idiot. Kid you have this confused, I'm not here to take you to jail or anything-"

"Then what." Danny hissed out, all the irritation that was bubbling up inside him during this entire chase filling slipping from his control.

"I'm here to thank you."

And just like that, it was gone.

"What."

Anger came easy to him, after his crowning.

Easy to lose himself within its gently yet insistent lull, clouding his mind in nothing but red that made it so easy to just, let go.

But he didn't want to kill anyone, even after what they've done to him, strapping him down on a table and cutting him open, enjoying his pain and suffering and cutting flesh and examining his organs.

He just wanted to escape, he wanted closure, he wants peace and love and acceptance.

He did indeed get his escape that he wished for, but that only lead to his fall into more captivity. It was another dimension, one of capes and villains, and never in his life as he met a human so...

Disgusting.

Even when under that operation table, the ones cutting him open didn't seem to take any pleasure in the act. Simply doing what they were told and taking notes with cold efficiency.

But this, this one called the Joker. He took pleasure in hurting others, watching them suffer and squirm and cry and beg as he made jokes at their own expense.

Never had he felt the amount of rage he did then. So when he himself, was taken by the Joker, along with others he planned to air live.

He let himself fall into the safety of rage.

The Joker was cruel and cunning, but he was waiting for someone, for Batman. He used it to his advantage.

He took a crowbar and swung. Swung at his arm, his legs, every part of his body his rage clouded mind could process and kept hitting and hitting and hitting and WHY WAS THIS MAN LAUGHING!?

It only made him angrier.

He swung in his face, and the man still laughed, so he kept swinging until he wasn't.

And then, as he was slowly climbing down from that rage, he stopped, and a man- who he distantly recognized as Red Hood- approached him and gave him comfort.

Then he fell, not into rage, but the deep embrace of unconsciousness.

Danny smirked, giving a two-finger salute and wink (helpfully shown by his mask) to the crowd that went wild for his skill and chanting his name. He crossed his arms and stared at Bruce, who, to his credit, was actually pretty good.

But not good enough.

The board came up, points being allocated, and Wraith didn't even need to look to see that he won, but the crowd grew silent, not in the bated breath that he recognized, but out of pure astonishment. He looked confused, before one from the ground whispered.

"He lost."

Yea, well obviously, he's Wraith, and while Bruce may be Batman he can't just win against him in dancing like that. So he turned around to look at the leaderboard, wondering just by how much Bruce lost from and ready to tell him to leave-

He froze.

The results were in, and Wraith suddenly realized the reason for the crowd's silence.

Bruce won.

Against him.

He's been doing this for 6 years, how did he lose?! He was so sure he would win, he's Wraith, the Wraith and one of the two best dancers in this nightclub.

The crowed suddenly started cheering, chanting out Vengence's name like he was a god among men. He glanced at Damian, seeing his twin just as- if not more surprised than he was at his lose, if going by his body language and the shocked expression shown on his mask than a scowl or neutrality.

Okay, this is fine. They only said they would CONSIDER it, not that they would instantly go with Bruce.

He needed to talk to Damian.

They'll turn this around somehow.

There was a child on the edge of the roof.

Batman landed with a soft thud, moving forward until he was standing near the edge. He lifted his cloak, protecting the boy from the rain. They sat there in silence, the boy staring off into space and Batman staring down to the streets below in contemplation.

Suddenly, the boy blinked, before looking up at him and Batman was made aware of the branching scar that ran down-or perhaps up- his face. The rest ran down his neck and disappeared beneath his cloak. “Oh, Hello.” The boy then stared straight at the cloak shielding him from the rain. “Thank you, I suppose. Even if it wasn’t necessary to do that.”

The boy’s eyes were cold, and empty. An emptiness that seemed unnatural, unhuman, wrong.

That made one want to avert them as a natural response.

“Kids like you shouldn’t be out so late.” Batman stared right back at him, softing his features from his aggressive stoicism to a more neutral one. “Especially out in the rain.” You could get sick. Is what was left unsaid. The boy turned his head, staring back into space, and Batman too, turned away to reface the streets.

“I like rain.” The boy said after a few minutes. “I also like snow.” He started to swing his legs slowly, staring down at the ground below with a soft frown. “But I don’t like hail. It hurts, and I’ve learned to not get hurt now, but I still dislike it.” The boy’s legs slowed to a stop, resting his hands in his lap. “So I’m out waiting the rain.”

Out waiting the rain?

The boy went quiet for a few more minutes, and Batman was content to let him sit and gather his thoughts. The boy brought up his legs from the edge, placing his head on his knees. “You’re different from the others around here. Really nice.” The kid glanced back up at the cape shielding him, before back at the ground. “Really nice.”

Batman let out a grunt of acknowledgement. “Do you have a home?” He asked, already fully prepared to take the boy home as soon as he wished for it. The boy blinked again, before shaking his head softly. 

“I don’t live here.”

“Which district?”

“I meant in Gotham entirely.”

Batman paused for a fraction of a second, before turning his head down and narrowed his eyes. “Do you have a home?” He repeated his first question, quickly coming to the conclusion of the boy being a temporary resident.

The boy simply slowly blinked up at him, before tilting his head slightly to the side. “I don’t have a home.” The boy went back to watching the rain. “Nor do I need one.”

“Why?” Was all Batman could asked.

“I move around constantly, so it doesn’t make sense staying in one place.” The boy said simply. “You could stay here, if you wanted.” Gotham wasn’t the best place to live, but he would pull a limb and a half to make it a better place if he had to. The boy blinked again, that same, slow, sluggish blink as if the mere action itself took a toll on him, before shaking his head. “No thank you, I don’t need one. But,” A small, soft smile appeared on the boy’s face. “Thank you for the offer, nonetheless.”

“Hm.” Batman grunted. 

The boy held out a hand towards the rain, which turned from heavy to just lit pitter patters, until it let up entirely. “It’s done.” The boy said, dropping his knees from his chin before swinging himself off the edge of the rooftop.

He let out a cry of alarm as he let go of his cape and reached out to the boy before he met a cruel, gruesome end.

He paused.

The boy was flying, gently held up in the air by wind as he faced away from Batman. A blue light gathered on the boy’s hand, and he lifted it up to his mouth, a blue mist coming from his mouth as he blew the magic from his palm out into the wind. He then turned to Batman with a smile, and his earlier suspicions were correct, as the scar indeed ran up his face, beginning all the way from his left hand.

“I would like to thank you for staying with me, and not trying to take my body for your own at the first opportunity.” The boy beamed, as if such information wasn’t of concern. “You’re just as kind as she said you were!”

Batman dropped his hand back at his side, giving the child across from a grunt. “She?” The boy touched the tips of his fingers together. “Lady Gotham! She’s really nice, like you, and she didn’t try to take my body either.” The boy’s smile widened. “She’s told me a lot about you, Mister Batman, though this is the first time we’ve met.”

Bruce, for some reason, couldn’t find himself as cautious as he normally would be. When he heard that, whether that be because of the child or this ‘Lady Gotham’. The boy held out a hand, soft blue light rising from it to form a snowflake as big as the boy’s fist, and he held it out to Bruce. “A gift to a friend, from the Herald of Seasons. It might not be much, but it makes a pretty accessory, right?”

Batman took the snowflake from the newly dubbed Herald of Seasons’ hand, finding it to be far colder than it should be, and more durable as well. He placed it into his cloak with a nod. “Thank you.”

The boy chuckled, expressing genuine joy as the first drops of snow started to fall from the sky. “I really like you, Mister Batman!” He turned, the faintest sparks of light entering his empty eyes. “I hope I can see you come next spring!” 

And just like that, he was off, leaving Bruce on that rooftop alone looking up into the sky. He held out a hand, staring at the snowflakes gently falling onto his hand and melting when in contact with his body heat. He turned, ready to continue his duties as the watchful protector of the night.

Perhaps there would be another reason to look forward to next spring, after all.

"Look into the beady little eyes your past self, and question if you wish to destroy him."

Dan did. There was obviously something wrong with his past self, because that's a literal teddy bear, looking at him with his beady little eyes. It would be so, so very easy to destroy his past self if he wanted to.

Instead, he just, sorta, picked him up.

Was he always so tiny and innocent? So, trusting? The boy didn't even move back when he reached for him, no, he walked forwards into his hands.

No survival instinct?! He has none! He's tiny, utterly defenseless and doesn't even have the basic instincts of self-preservation! Even a blob ghost has something akin to such instinct.

He lifted his past self up to eye level. Was I always this... cute and cuddly? He shook him, up, down, left, right, the only thing that caused was for the other him to laugh.

He squeezed his past self.

A loud sound- not unlike that of a squeaky toy, was what was produced as a result. Then he just, stood there, unmoving, his brain churning to try and provide understanding yet also trying to restart itself.

His past self tilted his head, reaching a paw forwards to poke him on the nose.

He blinked.

His younger self blinked as well.

He pulled back his lips, bearing his fangs as he snarled as his younger self.

The boy copied him, his mouth shifting as what were undoubtably the cutest little fangs he's ever seen were bared at him in a cute and less intimidating imitation of his own snarl.

That's it.

It's decided.

He's keeping him.

He no longer cares about going back to his timeline to repay his grudge against the Batclan, who he suffered humiliation after humiliation from because they just would not fall or submit.

He's content to stay with this version of himself. This, smaller, more unthreatening version of himself that seemed to have a crippling lack of fear.

Because he's undoubtedly felt the same sense of loss as he, himself did, in the future. This one has no family, no friends, and would most surely not survive with just himself and would be hit harder when he realizes that he's alone.

...

His timeline doesn't need or want him anyway.

===

A few heroes have travelled back in time from their ruined timeline, everything utterly destroyed and despair premating the very air and choking your lungs with every breath they took.

Either that or the dust, really.

The air in the past was fresh, clean, full of hope and new opportunities. They wouldn't waste it, they would protect it, this time. Prevent the fallen from falling, and having children not be bound under the protection of a ghost shield and parents living their lives in fear because they knew what was out there.

They just had to get rid of one man- no.

One monster.

Dan Phantom.

Why?

Danny didn't know what he was feeling, it was foreign to him, whatever was flowing from his core to his mind and making everything around him feel fuzzy, as if everything around was made of cotton.

Why?

He stepped forwards, small squeaks under his foot that felt so disconnected from him and the sight before him.

Why?

The squeaks ended as he came to a stop in front of him, the ectoplasmic blood soaking into the tips of his lower paws as he could only stare downwards.

He dropped to his knees.

Why?

He thinks he's crying, right now. If the wet feeling running down his cloth was any indication, yet he could and couldn't feel it. He didn't know why, he knows it's there, he thinks, but he can't feel it.

W ake up.

He reached his paws towards the giant, gaping hole in Dan's stomach, he didn't know what he could do, didn't think there was anything he could do. But as he removed his paws from his friend's stomach, now filled in with ice, he begged.

Wake up, please.

He never paid any attention when Sam spoke about the various afterlives, and the gods who dictated dominion over them. Now he wishes he did, maybe then, one of them would listen to him.

Wake up already, please.

He didn't believe in them, nor did he think they existed. But in that moment, uncaring of who could hear him, who would even answer, he could only beg and pray to any one of those deities that oversaw death.

Please don't leave me.

For some reason, when nothing happened, when nothing changed, when nothing answered his prayers. That feeling, that unknown, excruciating feeling, made the world suddenly feel less bright, as if whatever was shielding him from the misery of the world before was instantly gone, replaced with something cold, hard.

Disgusting.

You said you wouldn't leave, why aren't you waking up?

Danny liked everything, because everything was nice and fun and with his big brother it was 10x as fun and exciting. Everything was new and was a whole world full of potential just waiting for him to make friends with.

So why?

So. Why?

Why was his big brother there, with a hole running straight through his stomach and chains digging into every part of his body to force him to sit upright?

Why was there a collar around his neck, as if he were one of those dogs just waiting to be put down?

Why?

He was only protecting him, he wasn't doing anything wrong, he was the nicest person he's ever met outside of his friends and family, why did they hurt him, he didn't do anything.

Something touched down onto his head, and he looked up. Coming face to face with a mask of black and suit of red with a sympathetic smile on his face.

He was saying something, but he couldn't hear. He could see his lips moving, but no words that were spoken could he understand.

That feeling, that disgusting, revolting feeling in his core multiplied as a hand reached to wipe away at the streaks running down his face.

===

"Yo, little me." Danny let out questioning squeak, turning his head with as he licked the last of the ice cream from his maw. Dan was staring out of into the distance, something he couldn't understand in his gaze before he spoke. "In the future, I did a lot of bad things, alot of things that affected a whole lot of people and made them hate me. Things the current me wouldn't even be able to do now."

Danny tilted his head, not exactly sure where he was going with this. Dan sighed, turning his head to look at Danny with a small, sad smile, and Danny didn't even have to question as he put down his empty cup off to the side, stood up, and walked on the bench over to his big bro to give him a hug.

Dan blinked, feeling the regret and melancholy seeping from his bones and core. His smile changed to a fond one, and he reached a hand down to pat his younger self on the head. "Little me," He started, not exactly having the right words to speak, yet wanting to say something anyways. "Don't change, alright?"

"Whatever happens in the future, don't turn out like me, okay?" Danny let out a small squeak, not quite sure what his big brother was getting at, but wanting to make sure the bad he was feeling went away. He was lifted up onto Dan's shoulder as he got up, a large, beaming smile- fangs and all, in his direction as he laughed. "Now, what do you say to more ice cream?"

Danny let out the loudest, happiest s queak he could in answer.

===

Oh, he got it now. He understands, now.

He knew something like this might happen, didn't he? He knew, so why?

Why didn't he just leave him behind? Escaped and live to see another day? He was strong enough to do it, and Danny could live with being abandoned so long as he lived.

So why?

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

The man in red was gone, and two men in white were talking with one another, saying something he couldn't quite make out, nor understand. But something dark, something twisted, wormed its way into his mind as looked at them.

It would be so easy to kill them, wouldn't it?

He never thought about things like that before, but right now, after what happened, what he looked at, what he's looking at.

He doesn't mind it.

He got up, patting his brother's body as he lightly and gently as he could, to not hurt him, and whispered his goodbyes. He turned, soft squeaks muffled by his brother's lifeblood drawing the attention of the men in the room as he stopped by one of the men in white, looking up at him as the other's face seemed to twist as if he was looking at something rather unpleasant.

He understood what he felt, right in that instant, that small frame of time.

For the first time in his life, did Danny Fenton understand it, felt it in its truest, most despicable, most disgusting and twisted form.

Hate.

Blood splashed down onto his head and onto the suit of the another in white, mere seconds after a scream piercing the air as he stepped back. Danny turned his head after him.

He tried to pull out a gun on him, he didn't get very far.

Ice sprouted from the floor, tearing through spine and flesh spilling fresh blood onto the ground as it ripped through his stomach, mere seconds after as, just like the first, multiple spears of ice tore themselves through and out of the man's body.

More of them busted into the room, guns out and screaming something he couldn't hear, nor did he actually care to listen to. He shifted a foot, and ice spread on the ground, the same fate befalling those men as did the first and second.

He turned.

Walking back over to his big brother, he fell down onto his bum and crossed his legs, placing his hands on his knees as he stared up at the image of his brother, wounded, bleeding, covered in chains with some digging into his skin, collared as if he were an animal with eyes glassy and unseeing.

He burned that image into his mind, burned that image into his core so that he wouldn't forget, never forget, wouldn't be able to forget.

And he surrounded that image in hate, using it as fuel to further its existence as he reached forwards, a symphony of apologies being mentally projected as he cut through the other's chest with a sharp, ice-covered paw, trying to do as minimal damage as he possibly could, and retrieved his core.

It thrummed with power, yet also felt distinctly still, the one who controlled and commanded such might long extinguished and leaving it behind without an owner.

His face shifted, and brought the core up to his mouth, and place it inside.

He swallowed.

Near instantly, unending power and strength ran its course through his body. Uncontrolled and wild, trying to rip his weaker and softer body to shreds, and bring him to heel.

He didn't kneel before it, no. He forced it to kneel to him instead, his body being ripped and reshaped, losing its cloth and cotton and being replaced with flesh and bone as wave after wave of unending hatred brought his brother's power under his command.

He stood up, even now, with a newer form and even as his brother's body was forced onto its knees, he still towered over him. He wrapped his arms around his brother's head, tears running down his face, and for the first time in years, he spoke.

"I'm sorry"

"So, there's this really cute guy who's been coming to my cafe lately." Jasmine hummed, in place of the nod she would most definitely do if they weren't talking over a phone. "And he keeps asking for the worst combination of drink's I've seen!"

Jasmine rubbed a cloth over one of her many knives, careful of the blade. "Oh really?" She asked, placing it down when it shined and picking up another.

"Yea!" Danny idly grabbed a few cups to mix a drink for one of his patrons. "Can you believe the amount of caffeine he asks for? That's enough to put even me in the ground, and I'm literally half dead!"

"And you still served it to him?" Jasmine's voice carried a smirk, her fingers moving quickly in the repeated and well-practiced movements of reloading a pistol.

"Yea, of course!" Over the phone Jasmine could hear a faint good morning, most likely from one of her little brother's customers, as the boy himself said good morning in turn. "I'm honestly just waiting for the day he doesn't want caffeine, if I'm being honest."

"So, do you know his name by any chance?" Jasmine got up, snapping both her gun and knives to their places on her legs and belt. She picked up a large case holding her good, good friend. "I would like to have a little chat."

"Yea its-" Danny paused as an innocent smile appeared over Jasmine's face, even though he couldn't see it. "Jazz- Jazz no."

"I don't know what you mean." She most definitely knew what he meant.

"Jazz- Jazz please he's just a guy-"

"I know."

"Jazz, please he's done nothing wrong-"

"I know." She opened her case, briefly checking over the components of her sniper rifle, before shutting it back. "I'm not going to do anything, I just want to talk with him."

"Right, yea." Danny deadpanned. "When you mean talk you mean put the fear of the Ancients in him."

Jasmine chuckled. "You know me so well, little brother."

Danny was having a good night, laying down on his side and purring contentedly while his tail swayed lazily. He was living a good life nowadays, freed from his responsibilities as the eternal prince of the Infinite Realms and taking on the mantle of the head of a Familia.

Perhaps, one of these days, he should try and find the wizard who turned him into a cat and thank them for it. What would a wizard even like anyway?

He pondered on that for a moment, perhaps a magical artifact or another could suffice? He stretched. Oh well, it didn't matter right now, he wasn't going to do it so soon anyways.

He opened his mouth, a yawn escaping him as he finished his stretch, tongue peeking out to lick his lips. He changed his position to something more comfortable, sinking into the lavishly soft pillows and reminding himself to get Catwoman something once again for giving him this high-quality cat bed.

Custom made too, multiple times bigger than him, the softest pillows he's ever felt and smelling extremely good. Even when multiple others forced themselves into his bed, even though they had their own as a gift from her as well.

Perhaps another diamond is in order?

His ears perked up as the sound a crash echoed throughout the warehouse, and he lazily peeked an eye open as the sound of paws running towards his direction made themselves known.

His nose twitched, the familiar scent of iron controlling the air as he sighed.

Kevin.

"Graaaaaaaaaaaamps!" A cat of what was once white fur, now stained with blood, skidded to a stop in front of him. Danny sighed once more, other eye opening as he looked at his first, and what others call his second-in-command. "I'm not that old, 150 is still quite young Kevin." He spoke calmly, no real heat in his voice and instead, amusement.

Kevin, predictably, ignored him. "You won't believe what happened tonight." Kevin then turned cheeky, stepping forwards towards his bed, and Danny had half a mind to try and prevent him from staining his bed, before discarding that thought just as quickly. "Guess!"

Danny's stare turned flat, and he had an urge to facepaw. Instead, he sighed, staring at the blood staining the other's fur before resting his head back on his bed. "You died again, didn't you?"

"Yep!" Kevin stepped onto the bed, both face and reply cheerful as the sun. "But that's not it!" Kevin bounced his way over to the elder cat, bloody pawprints marking his path on the previously clean bed.

Danny sniffed, a faint unknown tickling his nose before Kevin flopped on top of him, the blood stains on the smaller cat rubbing off on him, causing Danny to shift position, one that would support the younger better. "Oh, really?" He inquired, reaching out to grasp a glass shard from Kevin's side and placing it onto the bed.

"Yea! I fought spark, the spark!" Kevin purred, tail swishing behind him. "Can you believe it!?"

Danny hummed, picking another shard of glass from his first's skin.

"She was suuuuuper strong! Not stronger than you obviously, but she was really tough, I almost couldn't keep up with her!" Danny used a paw to silently request for Kevin to turn, and he did, with Danny plucking another shard from his skin. "She went all woosh, and boom! And then I went swish, and whish and she could barely touch me!"

"Mhm." Danny shifted, gently lowering the other, younger cat from off of him and instead to his side onto his stomach, reaching over to pick the shards from his back. "Then, then she used her power and then I was going fwoosh! Then I crashed into a nearby window and then we had to scatter because the human inside was mad about it." Kevin chirped, easily moving through his story despite the biggest pieces of glass being currently taken out of his back. "Then I ran all the way here because I wanted to tell you about it!"

"That's nice Kevin," Once he was done, Danny reached forward to lick the other on his head, his tail moving forward-the fur turning from black to glowing white- and flinging the shards of glass up through the air and into the rafters. "However." Danny's speech turned from that of a cat to one of a more humane-like tongue, his eyes narrowing at the form of one of those vigilantes running around the city- this one seems to be the Robin, based on his description of the hero- took the thrown shards of glass as a sign to drop down onto the ground.

"It seems you've managed to have drawn one of the humans into our territory in your excitement." Danny rubbed his chin against Kevin's head, uncaring for the blood soaking into his fur. "I don't blame you, that strain of human is known to be quite sneaky when they want to be."

Robin stood up, cape shrouding his form from ankle to shoulders. He narrowed his eyes at the scene, and Danny, in turn, narrowed his own as the rest of his fur turned glowing white, toxic green eyes staring at the lone human in a den of cats.

A silent threat.

"Care to explain, human known as Robin?"

The League tried to interrupt a summoning of a powerful being from the Infinite Realms. From the information they collected, the being isn't of the status of a royalty, but they still had to be careful as the being the summoners tried to call forth was still of noble status.

They failed.

The head cultist finished the ritual, the last words to finish the summoning left their tongue and the room was suddenly doused in heat, as black flame came to life from within the circle, twisting and turning, back and forth until a pair of red eyes suddenly flashed from inside the twisting pillar of flame and just as suddenly as the eyes appeared, was the pillar broken apart.

What was left behind was the figure of a giant phoenix, wings spread as embers black as night gently fell down to the floor below and suddenly disappearing, as if they were never there in the first place.

"Who dares to disturb-" The being started, eyes scanning the crowd below before stilling, extremely and worryingly quiet. One of them quietly cursed. "Constantine..." The creature's voice was low, dangerously low, no doubt anger in its voice as it called out the Warlock's name.

Everyone tensed, expecting something dangerous, except for the cultists, and the Head, who turned his head towards them and smiled, obviously expecting them to be reduced to not even ash.

"100 years. One. Hundred. Years." The being spoke, and confusion wormed its way into the hearts of all those present. "100 years I have waited for you, and when we finally meet once again it's not even you summoned me but these-" The creature waved a wing at the cultist below. "-These fatuous and vacuous little things."

"And what is this? You surrounded yourself with those not even of human birth before you have even thought about me?" The noble's eyes narrowed. "Did our relationship mean nothing to you?

Someone, probably not Constantine, choked.

"Well then, after all of this time you can at least make yourself useful." In a flash of black fire, Constantine was brought from within the ranks of heroes and in front of the beast, a man who seemed to be trying to-and unsuccessfully- lighting a smoke. "Ah, why do that when you have me?" The being purred, bending down to apparently light a smoke before freezing, as if remembering what exactly it was doing, but the action was already done, and Constantine was killing his lungs away.

The phoenix snapped back up to standing above everyone else, clearing its throat as if what happened decidedly didn't happen.

"What exactly did you want me to be useful for, love?" Constantine asked, expelling the smoke from his lungs and deciding that this might as well be happening. The noble huffed, folding its wings at its sides as it stared down at its apparent lover. "Take care of our son for once in your sad, pathetic life."

This time, not only did Constantine choke, but a good chunk of people there did as well. Constantine ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the phoenix incredulously. "Aren't we both men?"

The phoenix looked at his lover as if he were stupid. "Your point?"

"I-" Constantine sighed, took a breath, held, then expelled more smoke from his lungs. Apparently, he decided not to question anything anymore. "You know what? Sure, where is the little bugger?"

Over the next few moments, both the Justice League and Cultists were treated to the noble transforming into a human (still having wings) and handing over their apparent child-who looked nothing like them by being a dragon, but who were they to question the apparent reproduction of a being from the Infinite Realms- and being lectured about what not to do and what to do and how he should be cared for.

Also, a warning for his many powers.

Then the Duke stole a kiss (One that he claimed was long overdue) and left.

The room was silent, only the sounds of breathing occupying the room as the temperature was brought back down to normal levels.

A moment later, Batman walked up to the nearby cultist and punched him across the face and knocking him out cold, suddenly reminding everyone what exactly they were here for.

A while later, in the meeting room, everyone looked at Constantine. Who had a baby eastern dragon wrapped around one arm (who was apparently his child) and rubbing his temple with the other.

"I can't explain this."

===

Danny was actually not Constantine kid, neither was he Vlad's. Biologically, at the very least, however. Vlad did adopt both him and Jasmine a while back after their whole parent fiasco.

They're dead, sadly unable to become ghosts, or perhaps not so sadly.

Of course, they unfortunately outlived Jasmine, which was to be expected, but Vlad and Danny did grow close enough that they no longer viewed each other as enemies.

However, who could have expected that Danny, finally ascending to his princely status, would turn him back into a literal child because he was, for all intents and purposes, one by Dragon standards.

Utter malarkey, he would say.

Taking care of that boy was the worst few memories he has ever had. He was constantly being kept from his sleep, his work being interrupted constantly, and the child managed to find a way to leave his sight at each and every turn.

But there were some sweet moments, he would say.

It's only reasonable, however, that his lover (who he hasn't seen for an entire century might he add) share the workload.

In a place far above the soil and waves, a realm held above the sky and within the stars.

You awaken.

A world of twisting mirrors, of shooting stars, an endless expanse of drifting stardust and stars trapped in an endless succession of dying and being reborn anew.

You look down, expecting to see what you've come to know as a familiar sight.

It's you.

Or rather, a distorted version of you. Cracks running along your skin that looks drenched in blood, originating from right where your heart would be placed, now nothing but a black void.

They stare back, far too black eyes taking you in just as you take in yourself.

You look back up and walk forward.

Ripples are made beneath your feet as you step forwards into a world familiar yet unknown to you. Your distortion, and the sound of soft popping the only company you find yourself with as you try and navigate the unknown.

You stop by a star, a tiny one, compared to some others, and reach out a hand towards it, yet pause just a touch away, an instinctual reaction, despite knowing it won't hurt.

You can feel it above your palm.

The heat.

Yet, not hot and scorching, but warm and pleasant.

You tap into a new memory.

Like a fire started in the midst of snowfall, wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a couch and sipping away at a mug of hot chocolate as you idly watch Tv.

A woman, a man, and a girl were on the couch with you. Faces blurred, features not quite visible, you have seen them before, in other memories.

A moment later, you were ripped from the memory as the star dies with a quiet pop.

Warmth suddenly replaced by a cold void as glittering stardust scatters across your palm. Slowly picking itself up to restart the process for as long as whatever rules will it too.

You close your hand, trapping the stardust within before it could spread too far, then resume walking.

You walk on.

And on.

And on.

And on.

At one point, you reach around in your pockets, looking for something, yet all your hand retrieves is nothing.

You heave a heavy sigh.

You should've known you wouldn't have been so lucky this time.

You continue walking.

More and more stardust coat the area around you as you move, slowly reshaping themselves into stars, from tiny, to small, to big, to large.

The tiniest ones always take the longest, as if struggling to recall the details of the memories held within.

You stop.

Sitting there, once again, never moving, is a child.

A child you know well, yet not at all.

Sitting on a throne, head resting on the back of his palm as he stares out into the endless expanse of nothing. Glowing hair and toxic green eyes, a small crown floating just above his head and a cape of stars that's end falls to the bottom of the boy's throne.

These stars, each and every memory, and this realm, is undoubtedly his. You know who he is, yet you don't know who he is.

You have received bits and pieces of his memories, some blurry, some clear, and some sitting between that fine edge between the two.

You don't know why, but your question would never be answered, even if you asked.

You walk forward, stopping in front of the small boy, and crouch down. The focus of your intention, for his part, merely regards your presence with a shift of sight.

You have his attention.

You slowly move your hand up from your side, fully in view of the boy and careful to not move too fast.

The child, unlike the last time, doesn't immediately force you away, face holding a hint of curiosity.

You open your palm, a reborn star gently floats in place.

His eyes widen briefly, before collapsing back to neutrality. He reached a hand upwards, slow and unhurried.

He gently touched it with a finger.

Toxic green eyes became glazed, lost within the memory contained inside of the star.

You wait.

and you wait.

And you wait.

Until finally, something changed.

Small, glowing green tears formed at the corners of the child's eyes, before running down his face.

Slowly, carefully, he takes hold of it. Cradling it as if it were something precious, something, fragile.

And perhaps, it truly is something fragile.

He slowly brought it to his chest, tears still running down his face. He looks at you, yet now, expression different.

He looks at you now as if you weren't something unneeded, someone most definitely intruding, and perhaps, and eyesore. Now, he looks at you with relief, gratefulness, and happiness.

Out of the corner of your eyes, your reflection presses against the glass, pressing against it intently as cracks spread from its touch.

You turn your attention back onto the boy, to see him mouthing a few words with a warm, small smile, tears still running down his cheeks. Words you cannot hear yet are able to get the general gist of by reading his lips.

"Thank you."

The ground beneath you cracked, and before your distortions hand could grab, you take their hand. Not quite keen on being dragged at an extreme speed down below as every other time.

This time, they pull you along gently.

===

John Constantine slowly blinks open his eyes, quite thankful that this time he isn't waking up to a racing heart and feeling as if he were about to hit the ground.

Still, he's been having that dream for a while now.

He looked down to his hand, the one that held onto the star, and tightened it into a fist.

He changed something.

Vlad was having a good day, a fine day.

Finally having put his obsession with Maddie to rest, nothing at Vladco big enough to need his immediate attention, and no Jack Fenton or Jack Fenton like situation to end his peace.

He was sat down at his table, eating the cupcakes he baked earlier with a new recipe and some tea.

It was a good day

Something was going to ruin this. So, he sent out a clone, sent it to one of his cupboards, took out one of his bigger teacups, went to his fridge, poured in some mango juice, took an extra plate, and came right back to the table Vlad was setting at.

It dutifully took a few cupcakes and put it onto the extra plate, placed said plate at the other end of the table and gently rested the teacup down beside it and pulled the chair just enough for another to sit down and returned to the original.

Now he waits.

"VLAD!"

Ah, there it was.

The Jack Fenton like situation that would ruin his day.

Just like his father, the boy for some reason lost his ability to use the very there door and instead busts through the wall right beside said door.

But it wasn't anything he couldn't fix.

He brought the highly expensive and his favorite teacup to his lips, content to enjoy the last dregs of peace he can before the boy opens his mouth-

"VLAD I NEED YOU TO SLEEP WITH SOMEONE!"

Vlad choked.

A few minutes later, after a series of coughs and heaving, he stares at his godson with the most incredulous face he could muster. The brat, being Jack's son, instead of giving him further context decides to eat the cupcakes he made without even asking him.

Barbarians, honestly.

He cleared his throat before the boy could snatch another one of his delicate treats. "Explain yourself, Daniel."

"Hm? Oh, right." Danny swallowed, petting his chest before swiping up a teacup (That was filled with mango juice instead of tea, that Vlad, as an ever-accommodating host, laid out for him a few moments before his arrival.) and taking a giant gulp. Danny then sighed. "I need you to sleep with someone, basically."

"I will need further explanation, if your feeble brain cannot understand that fact," Vlad took a slow sip of his tea, eyes closed and playing every part of the refined high-society member he's crafted for himself over the years. "Then I can and will direct you to the door."

Vlad then glanced at his broken wall. "And for the love of all that is holy, please remember that they exist for a reason."

"Yea yea whatever." Danny waved his off, taking up another cupcake and chewing on it. "Riht so a ned yoz ta-"

"Try again, this time without your mouth full so that I may understand you Daniel."

As Danny swallowed, Vlad took another sip of his tea.

"Right so I need you to sleep with Lex Luthor."

And promptly spat it all out onto both his table and his unfortunate, innocent little cupcakes (Danny managed to move his away from the blast) and doubled over into a coughing fit.

Danny hates John Constantine.

Well, he doesn't hate him, but he does hate whenever Constantine needs him.

Each and every summon was just... not ideal, for him at least.

He was summoned while he was about to go sleep.

Summoned when he was asleep.

Summoned when he was going to the bathroom.

Summoned when he was using the bathroom.

Summoned while he was getting ready to take a bath.

Summoned when he was in a bath.

Summoned while in the middle of undressing/redressing.

Summoned while getting attacked by living food.

Summoned when he was about to fall flat on his face.

You know, very embarrassing things.

The most recent time he was summoned was the most embarrassing he's ever been seen though.

He was currently hiding in one of his 'safehouses' from a run in with both his parents and the GIW, now normally, that wouldn't be a problem. Because both his healing factor, durability, and wit would usually get him off home free.

Not this time.

The GIW apparently had some new technology that, while experimental, was made specifically against ghost, and while that's basically most of their tech this one was... different.

Safe to say, he got hit more than one, and then for the first time since, well, forever he's had to run for his life. He managed to get away from them, trying to hold his wounds together with his hands and into an alleyway, that he planned to phase through to get to the nearest 'safe house' (that was really just an abandoned building with some medical supplies that he never needed to use) when his father found him.

He got shot, again, and fell to the floor. He looked at his father with an expression he doesn't even know, but he knew he was scared.

Whatever Jack Fenton saw that stalled him from shooting, and instead a pained look on his face, Danny would probably never know. But he took that time to phase through the wall and book it to the safe house.

Safe to say, he uh, wasn't having the greatest time.

He tried sewing up his wounds, and that wasn't the greatest thing, because his hands were shaky both from pain and feeling like he would faint, using alcohol was even worse, really. The black spots trying to cover his eyes made it harder to see where exactly he was sewing, but he would take that over nothing.

Plus, also, how he didn't know how to sew.

He managed to bandage up most of the major wounds, though it was sloppy as shit. He was just getting to the last one, which was a pretty massive one over his chest that he poured alcohol on.

His shaky hands made him spill far more than he intended, and he had to bite down on something to stop him from screaming. Maybe he shouldn't have done that.

His hands were shaking, but he just had to apply this last bandage, sloppy as it would be, and then he could somehow try and find his way home and then go out like a light.

Which made it unfortunate, that Constantine decided this would be the best time to summon him.

He hates being the ghost prince sometimes, this is one of those times.

He expected only Constantine, so imagine his surprise when he was standing (Oh shit he think he'll either puke, fall down, or both.) in front of way more than just Constantine.

He thinks Constantine said they were the Justice League or something? He doesn't really remember, both with the pain and taking in details from another dimension wasn't really his thing.

The room was extremely quite, so, so very quiet. Said quiet made Danny feel extremely uncomfortable, and fidgety under all of their combined gazes.

So he cracked a joke.

Not his best one, he would admit, but it was funny at least!

So why was he the only one laughing?

Contrary to the belief of those few who research the paranormal, it is possible to for a ghost to create another without the death of the living or one that forms naturally from the other side.

What they would call reproduction.

A ghost could, if they were wanted to, split a part off of themselves to create another ghost. However, it is a rare thing, for ghosts do not usually wish for children, and one of the factors contributing to said creation is the intense desire for one.

To create 'life', they have to have an intense desire to do so, a base (which is usually a piece of themselves) and a few other factors.

It isn't exactly common knowledge, but it isn't rare knowledge either.

So, it certainly came as a surprise when the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep was opened by a group of humans who managed to both steal the Sarcophagus and retreat from the zone before it was realized, that not one stepped out.

But two.

===

It was a complete and utter accident, if it were to be honest. The portal, unfinished as it was yet turned on wasn't the most stable thing, and an unstable portal leaves a lot to be desired, not to mention how dangerous it could potentially be.

Again, it'll repeat.

It was a complete accident. How the boy just so happened to be randomly shoved anywhere inside of itself due to the inability to reestablish the portal to the living world.

And the boy just so happened to be shoved directly into the place containing it's first, current, and only king.

Pariah Dark.

===

Pariah Dark's conscious may have been inactive, but his subconscious wasn't. So, when he felt another presence that should not be with him inside of his prison.

You could say he was curious.

So, he poked at the mind curiously, the being's own subconscious sluggish and seemingly, pained. The boy (which he found out after a few pokes here and there) was highly unstable, going against the natural order of being both living and dead.

Now wasn't that interesting?

This was the first of his kind that the king had ever laid 'eyes' upon, and in his eternal prison, no less?

Well, it would be a shame to let something such as this, slip between his fingers so easily, would it not?

So, he let the child feed off of him, he certainly had more than enough ectoplasm to spare if he were to be honest, and yes, he is tooting his own horn. The boy, unstable as he was, would most certainly be molded somewhat by feeding off of his ectoplasm, enough so that others could even mistake the boy's own signature for his own for a few moments.

Would that be such a bad thing, however?

He always wondered how having an heir would be like.

The Justice League summon the Ghost King for aid in something.

What they got wasn't the ghost king.

What they got was a boy standing inside of the circle, a mug held in one hand and eyes closed as if he just got out of bed.

"Father isn't," The boy yawned, reaching a hand under his pajama shirt to scratch at his stomach. "Available right now. You can try again in the next, uh. I don't know? Eon or something?"

The boy took a sip from his mug, his face instantly turning sour as he removed the mug from his lips at swallowed, he looked down at his drink with squinted eyes as he reached a hand up to scratch at his black hair. "Of all the thing he could've given me, did it have to be lemon tea? He didn't even add sugar or milk, the fruitloop."

The boy groaned.

The boy then turned his squinted gaze towards them, before blinking rapidly and putting his hand in his pants pocket. "Ooookay, I will admit." He averted his eyes to the shield, a bit of awkwardness leaking into his body language. "You weren't who I expect to be, you know." He gestured with the hand hold the mug. "Summoning an eldritch being of death from beyond the veil and all that, but hey!" He shrugged. "You're the Justice League so you can do that... probably."

The boy took another sip, face turning sour as he swallowed. "Ancients, I really need to ask for sugar next time. Anywho," The boy then stares back at them.

"Are you going to send me back home or what?"

Vlad (Pheonix): Just giving you a heads up, when it becomes known that you are dating me. You will have to fight through my 6 abominable exes, as well as Gary.

Constantine: Why is the 7th one called Gary.

Vlad: Because that is his name...?

Constantine: No, I mean why is he differentiated from the others?

Vlad: Ah. Because Gary is not my ex, he's just Gary.

Constantine: Then why is he-

Vlad: He likes card games, the others are most likely to try and kill you.

Constantine: Noted.

Danny: Your mother!

Vlad: My mother is dead, Daniel.

Danny:

Vlad: She shoved me into a closet while saying that we were playing hiding and seek, and me, the oblivious boy I was then, obliged and was excited, not at all questioning that she knew where I was hidden.

Danny: Vlad-

Vlad: Then I watched on helplessly through a crack in the closet door as she was brutally stabbed to death right before my very eyes, terror running through my veins and fear gripping my mouth to keep it closed. I couldn't turn away, as I had a front row seat to each and every scream that they tore from her as blood slowly melted into the carpet.

Danny: Dude-

Vlad: Then I saw the life drain from her eyes and leave nothing behind but an empty husk that once was and the killer standing on top of her body. Before they left, I remember staring at her for an unknown amount of time before the police came and escorted me outside.

Vlad: Sometimes I wonder what difference it would have made if I stepped out of that closet.

Danny:

Vlad:

Danny:

Vlad: Anywho, enough about that. Would you like some cupcakes Daniel?

Danny, disturbed: Uh.... sure....?

Vlad: Great, vanilla or chocolate? Or perhaps lemon with some buttercream?

Danny: Lemon with buttercream please.

Vlad, going to his kitchen: Wonderful, wait one moment.

Danny is currently questioning how the hell a simple your mother joke forced him into a lore dump of his mother's death. On the bright side, at least he'll get some cupcakes out of it?

Dick: So, is your godfather always like this?

No matter what anyone says, Danny did NOT scream because he genuinely forgot that Dick was there, nor would he ever admit to being scared, because he wasn't scared.

Vlad owns a bakery.

It is, however, on the very downlow. The CEO of a massively successful corporation being known as the owner of a mere bakery would make it far too easy for people to access him, which would then lead to him having to hire people to keep said people who didn't come for the bakery out and that would just really ruin the mood.

On the other hand, he's also keeping it a secret from the Fenton family, he doesn't need them trying to install their 'defense systems' into his bakery because first of all, he already had his own. Second of all he's strong enough that most ghosts don't even want to try him and he could take care of any normal human and thirdly, he doesn't want that bumbling fool to bust down his walls because he can't grasp the concept of a door.

His bakery is successful, not enough to be famous, but he has a steady selection of customers. He doesn't want his bakery to be famous either, he would prefer to keep a good pool of regulars that were nice and calm.

After all, money is never an issue.

Of course, he has a few part timers, who he pays handsomely for their time.

Simple logic really.

More money = happy = greater efficiency.

Of course, Vlad knows that he's overpaying them more than the normal amount, but does he care?

No.

Because after all, as he has said.

Money is never an issue.

Recently, there's been a man by the name of Constantine coming by his bakery, who came at first by recommendation, took one of his items, paid and then left.

Then came back a few days later, then when Vlad showed himself from inside his kitchen and personally took the guy's order (his usual part timer called in sick) and the guy seemed to stare at him for a second too long, before getting his stuff and leaving.

Then the time he visited became shorter.

And shorter.

Until he was visiting daily.

Constantine seemed to have a certain... interest, in Vlad whenever he was around, and of course, Vlad noticed. Why wouldn't he?

Now, Vlad normally wouldn't have the time nor want to respond to the crushes of people he couldn't care less about, especially when he had Maddie. But, after recently accepting that Maddie has no interest in him and finally deciding to let that obsession that was fueled by spite, pettiness and some misguided feelings go.

Well, you could say he had time.

And Constantine wasn't displeasing to the eye.

===

There was a demon masquerading as a normal man in this bakery.

Constantine was sure of it, the bakery owner didn't feel human, and Constantine could tell from a glance that he wasn't. He wasn't exactly expecting it though, going to a bakery after the one he actually liked shut down due to financial problems, and then finding its owner to be a demon.

He was surprised to say the least, as well as disappointed, because after dealing with the demon in disguise the bakery would most probably shut down.

Except, the owner wasn't going around secretly killing people in the dark or torturing their minds or making them his eternal servants. In fact, he seemed to be treating them well, if what he gathered was correct.

They had a far higher pay than a part timer would normally have, they could call in sick and Vlad would accept that, even say that they just couldn't show up or feel mentally able to do their job that day and Vlad wouldn't care, wouldn't fire them, just tell them to come in when they can.

Weird, for a demon.

So, Constantine stayed his hand.

But he was waiting, waiting for that mask to slip up juuuuust the tiniest bit, make the wrong move, and then Constantine would send him back to hell where he originated from.

It would be shame, the treats he cooked were delectable and completely and utterly normal. But he could just find another bakery to eat at.

Although probably not as good.

Vlad has wanted Danny to be his son for a while now, and he did, indeed, get what he wanted.

Not in the way he expected, however.

What was given was attached to the arms of tragedy, that fated day, in which the subject of his love and obsession, the man that was the focused point of his hatred, anger, and jealousy.

Died.

That day, marked in tragedy.

It was a rough time for Daniel as well, his friends, family, and teacher all died, and by his own hand yet not at the same time.

If Vlad wasn't feeling like he did, he would probably think it to be poetic in some way.

Yet, not even a full week later, when he was still processing his grief and whatever other feelings he felt, the boy in his care, who full of bite, snark, and ever increasingly growing hatred and helplessness.

Turned into a child.

This, was a chance.

A chance for him to mold and shape Daniel into his perfect, idealized version of himself.

A perfect boy.

A perfect halfa.

A perfect son.

He knew this, and yet... he couldn't bring himself to do so. He didn't know why, but as he stared at the child, not looking even a day over 8, staring back at him full of curiosity, and an oh so painful lack of recognition, he couldn't go through with it.

It just... didn't feel right.

As wishy washy as that reasoning would be.

So he kept the boy in his care, and left Amity Park behind.

Being a father was... far harder than he expected, if he were to be honest. Yet he couldn't find himself hating it, perhaps it was the guilt, in not being there to prevent the accident, perhaps some kind of feeling to repay a debt to Maddie, or doing what she wanted, or perhaps, even to succeed where Jack Fenton failed.

Maybe even all four.

He tried his best to treat the boy as his own flesh and blood, giving him as much care as he was able to while also balancing work and trying to plan out a solid plan for Danny's education when he's older.

Though, that plan would perhaps be a backup plan, if Danny finds himself liking something... different.

One of these days, Vlad had to leave Daniel behind with a babysitter to attend a Gala held by one Bruice Wayne, and as much as he wanted to show Daniel off to the world he... wasn't ready yet.

He would need at least a few more years before making his official debut.

It was a fine party, in Vlad's opinion, though Brucie Wayne did arrive late to his own event, but he digresses.

It was while talking to said man, that he heard gasps behind him, and he was curious about it, going to turn around until he felt a few tugs at his leg, that he looked down.

Only to see Daniel, hovering off the ground with a leg that shouldn't be bent the way it was, blood leaking from it and onto the floor, with tears streaming down his face.

It was only after grabbing the boy into his chest, making sure he didn't do anything more against the wound, and a butler- Alfred he thinks the name was - appearing at his side and quickly leading him out of the room towards where they kept one of their medical equipment, that he questioned what happened, why was his leg broken, and where was his babysitter?

Distantly, in the back of his mind he went "Oh, his powers came in."

"You know what happened to Odin?"

"No, what happened to Odin?"

"Exactly, you cannot step foot in the mortal realm like you are now. Follow in Odin's footsteps."

"No, I don't want to follow in the Allfather's footsteps."

"Stop whining like a child and take a mortal form love."

"No, I will not."

[Deep inhale] "Do you know what happened to Loki?"

"Loki? The trickster? What happened to that one?"

"Well, he's currently still trapped inside of a cave, chained by his son's own entrails as a snake eternally drips poison onto him, but that is beside the point."

"No that is exactly the point."

"No, it is not. His fate has no relation to the main subject of our conversation."

"Yes, it does."

"No, it does not- No. Stop making that face. I am not doing this again."

"What face?"

"You know what you're doing. Stop it."

"I don't think I will."

[Exasperated exhale.]

"You should follow in the god of mischief's footsteps, even he- no especially he knew the point of a convincing disguise."

"Hmmm."

"No."

"Dearly beloved if you do not take on a mortal form while living out your farmer fantasy then so help me, I will place you back inside the coffin from which you came."

"..."

"That would be beautiful really, but no thank you I'll take that mortal form now."

"Good." Clockwork smiled

An hour later....

"Is this convincing enough for you, my love?" Pariah Dark adjusted the straw hat sitting upon his head, trying to shift it into a position better suited for his hair.

Clockwork hummed, floating around Pariah to take in his new form from every angle. "Well, it is certainly better than your first try."

"Then can I leave now?"

"No."

Pariah sighed. Feeling as hands were gently placed on his shoulders and slowly guided him down to rest on his own legs as he felt hands run through his hair and his straw hat gently taken from his head. He sighed with small indignation as crossed his arms. "I spent a while trying to fit that over my hair properly, you were the one who told me to fit in, so why take it off?" Pariah grumbled.

"Yes, yes. I know love." Clockwork's fingers gently worked themselves through his king's hair, a deep and long sigh leaving the man's body as he fully relaxed, causing Clockwork to smile.

As he worked, Clockwork hummed a small tune lost to the seas of time, causing Pariah to perk up slightly, before, a few minutes later, also joining his lover's humming.

"There we are." Clockwork removed his hands from the other's hair, and Pariah took that as a single to stand up. He turned his head, carefully pulling the braid over his shoulder, he then quirked a brow. "Where did you get the flowers from?"

"From here and there." Clockwork smirked, one that Pariah knew meant he was receiving no answer to his question from, so he shrugged, moving the braid off his shoulder. "So, where exactly are you going to send me?"

"Right, yes." Clockwork waved him over, pulling up a small mirror of time as he shifted through locations. "So, you'll be going to this world and..."

===

Pariah Dark stared down at the door, in one hand holding a basket as he brought the other up in preparation to knock before freezing.

How does one interact with a human outside of violence and threats again?

He shifted, not for the first time realizing that he had to crouch down to even fit to get to his new neighbors door.

Humans are intimated by height, right?

Should he shrink?

His beloved never walked him through how to talk with humans what does he do????

Should he leave?

But then his beloved would be disappointed...

Okay, first things first.

Knocking.

He gently brought his fist forward, and tapped his knuckles against the door frame, small thunks sounding out with each and every knock.

He tapped a bit harder, each series good louder than the last.

Okay, he thinks he's getting good at this! He's practically a natural!

Oh, the door opened.

The door opened.

"Hello?" An old mortal woman peered up at him, or tried to, at the very least, for his head was well above the door.

Pariah Cleared his throat, moving his hand back in a small wave. "Greetings, mortal-" Shoot. Normal mortals don't talk like that. "I am Pariah Dar- I mean Ark."

He coughed, moving his other hand forwards to present her with the basket. "I bring you an offering in hopes of creating an alliance-" Alliance, really Pariah? Really? "Between the two of us that will foster until the end of time!"

The human woman below hesitantly took the basket, probably shocked, and then just. Stood, there.

Ancients, did he accidentally kill her? He didn't even do anything! Were humans always so fragile?!

The woman cleared her throat, and stepped out of the doorway. "Thank you very much dearie, that's very kind of you!"

Why is she smiling.

Ancients she's smiling he wasn't prepared for this. His beloved never told him his neighbors would smile he wasn't ready-

Annnnd he already teleported away.

Pariah groaned, reaching up his hands to his hair before suddenly remembering who it was braided by, before lowering down to cover his face as he crouched besides his own house.

A nearby horse wandered over and nipped at his hair.

"I was supposed to get a name, Elizabeth." Pariah despaired. "A name!"

"Do any of you know a John Constantine?" Said the boy standing inside the summoning circle with a briefcase, stance casual, relaxed. "I've heard he works for the uh-" His eyes roam over the every person in the room, past the cultist standing in front of him, past the unconscious ones, before finally stopping on both Batman and Superman before snapping his fingers. "Right, the Justice League and I know those two are apart of it, so I'm assuming the other ones are also in or affiliated with them."

Slowly, a few of them turned to look at Constantine, who took the lull to light himself a smoke and then walked forwards, hands in his pockets until he stopped by the head cultist and barely batting an eye he uppercuts them, knocking them to the ground and reaching for his smoke with a hand. "That's me."

The boy's eyes roamed up and down Constantine's form with a single minded, unnatural focus that threatened to send a slight shiver down Constantine's back that he suppressed. This continued for about a minute, before an expression of disgusted disappointment crossed the boy's face.

Constantine raised an eyebrow. "Got a problem with me, kid?"

The boy grimaced, before reaching an arm forward all too quickly and pushing the briefcase into the warlock's chest. "I-It's for you." The boy sounded far too pained to utter such words, as if speaking to Constantine physically harmed him while averting his eyes.

Constantine grabbed hold of it with his other hand, looking down at the case. "This is...?"

"Open it and see." The boy said, stepping back to the farther end of the circle. "Now, if you excuse me. I shall take my leave."

With a flash, the boy left, and the circle quieted down from a bright glow back to just a drawn circle over the floor.

"Constantine-"

"I know Batsy, 'debrief first, open it later'. Don't need to tell me once." Constantine turned around, and over to the group of heroes, disregarding the unconscious body on the floor and walking over it.

===

"Sooo," Flash began. "Anyone wandering what's in the case?"

Batman glanced over at him, and Flash brought his hands up and shrugged. "Look, we were all wondering it."

"I wonder as well." Chimed in Wonder Woman with a smile.

Small murmurs of agreement rang through the table, and Batman looked stared at all for a good, long and hard minute, before moving his gaze over towards Constantine. Everyone else did so as well.

Constantine light another smoke, uncaring for Superman's small grimace, and placed the briefcase on the table and opened it.

Whatever the Justice League was expecting, it was not for an avalanche of letters to spill from the case, knocking Constantine and his chair over and slamming open the rest of the case.

From the ceiling rained letters, and Batman took a hold of one, staring at the expensive looking paper that glowed with a slight green shine, carefully and expertly sealed with a seal in the shape of a heart.

'From Vlad Masters, to John Constantine." It read.

"It seems our shifty warlock found himself an admirer." Wonder Woman's smile took on a more playful edge.

Below an ever growing pile of white of red, Constantine despaired over the loss of a perfectly good cigarette.

"Daniel, get off of me." Vlad hissed, trying to get the child off his back.

"No, I'm tired, sleepy, and you're the closest thing to rest on." Danny groaned, flopping himself further onto Vlad's back.

"Daniel this is not what you're supposed to be doing at an event like this get off of me-" Vlad reached a hand behind his back, trying to slap Danny away from him to the best of his ability.

"Nooo." Danny moved away from Vlad's hand and slapped it when it got to close for comfort.

"Daniel you were to be my eyes for the night get off-"

"Ah, Vlad! Good to see you!"

"...Daniel," Vlad whispered. "When and how did your oaf of a father get here-"

Danny creaked an eye open and peeked over Vlad's shoulder, only to recoil and hiss at the brightness of the smile on Bruce Wayne's face. "It's Bruce Wayne."

Vlad hummed quietly. "Ah, of course he was invited here." Vlad brought a hand up to rub at his face, careful to not touch the bandages wrapped around his eyes and sighed. "I can never escape Jack Fenton, even when he isn't here it seems." Vlad took a small second to sink into the depths of despair, before removing his hand and sending a beaming smile towards Bruce Wayne (Or at least where his voice came from)

"Greetings Bruce! Pardon my lack of sight but it seems fate is still kind to you, it seems!"

"You know he totally saw you not wanting to meet him, right?" Danny whispered in Vlad's ear, head on the man's shoulder.

"Daniel." Vlad whispered just as quietly, smile still on his face as he listened to Bruce talk about some charity he plans to do in Gotham. "If you will not be my eyes then at the very least keep yourself quiet."

"Relaaaaaax," Danny twirled a wrench, an easy-going smile on his face as he leaned back in his chair with one hand behind his head. "It'll be fiiine dude, so we'll end up being off from the designated time, no biggie."

"Danny, need I remind you that we are dealing with one of Gotham's many villains?" Handler said, a friend he's managed to gain for himself after coming to Gotham, on the one occasion where he lost most of his powers and was left with only a few of them, like durability and healing.

Danny smirked, throwing the wrench up and down in the air and shrugging. "So? Dude you have me and trust me," Danny pushed against his desk, kicking both him and his chair over to the direction of his handler, looking up at him with a glint in his eyes. "I won't let ya die, bud."

Handler stared at him for a few moments, before brining a hand up to his face and sighing. "Look, I trust you, but we're dealing with the Joker. You know, a man that's unpredictable to all but the bat and his birds?"

Danny hummed, smirk replaced by a thinking expression as he brought his head down to look at his wrench, moving his other hand to rest over his chair. "Well, I'll admit. That is a concern."

Handler looked down at Danny, quiet for a moment as his eyes darkened. "You want me to call it off?" He spoke quietly, hands twitching.

"Nah, this is a great opportunity to make big bucks." Danny moved his arm to the side, and Handler stepped beside his chair and bent down, letting Danny's arm slide across his neck and bring him close to the other boy. "Besides, though I'm confident you could probably give him a run for his money, grabbing the attention of the big B himself and his birds would be far more trouble than it's worth."

Danny then tilted his head, expression as if the thought just came to him. "Oh also, that whole power struggle thing, we don't need one of those in Gotham of all places if you manage to make him croak."

"Hm." Handler grunted, eyes clearing up as he tilted his head. "More time?"

Danny nodded, letting a pleased hum as he nodded his head. "More time."

Danny then released him from under his arm, turning around in his chair to push against the man's leg and roll back over to his desk ass he turned to face it, he placed his wrench on the table and then lifted an open hand up. "Can you pass me one of those screwdrivers please?"

Barely did a few seconds pass by before he caught the requested screwdriver, and he hummed a thanks. "Now off you go negotiate or whatever it is you do outside, stay safe bud!"

Handler nodded and left, quietly closing the door behind him as he thought about what to bring Danny to eat later as the subject of his thoughts got to work on another project.

Jack was an inventor. A hunter. A walking tank of a man who could intimate anyone he wanted to if he weren't such a joyful man.

Daniel was not.

He was short, thin, calm and composed where his father was the sun. He was not a hunter, nor an inventor.

Talia was an assassin. A living, walking weapon. Impossible to notice footsteps. The eyes of a predator and all the grace of one moving in for the kill.

Daniel was not.

He was a failed heir. A less refined weapon than his mother. Footsteps heavy and loud compared to his mother. The eyes of a cold, dead fish with no life and nothing left to give.

He did not know it at the time but.

Daniel was a doctor. Someone that saved people. Mended broken bodies. Always carrying something to help. Nothing but medical knowledge rolling around in his head and the desire to save. Life saver.

Damian was the successful heir. Son of Bruce Wayne. Quiet footsteps. The eyes of a predator. Body trained to perfection. A master of the sword. Life taker.

A success, where he failed.

A battle of heirs. An outcome already decided, already known, already foreseen.

There should've only been one.

And indeed, there was none but one.

In spite of his loss, his failure, he was not exterminated as he thought he should have been. He was instead placed in the pits, the water mending his broken body not for the first time, then taken out, and found himself alongside his mother.

That was the last time he saw of her, and his brother. Only a scar where his brother would have killed him, refusing to be healed, left behind in remembrance.

He then found himself with a family. His father's family. Daniel knew of his father, a genius inventor who could build a great many things from scraps of metal, a gene that, while respected, was not what the League wanted.

It was a fling, and nothing more.

He gained a new mother and a sister. Inserted into a family who welcome him with open arms, yet already had their own dynamics that they practiced from time to time, and he always found himself at a loss when they try to fit him in them in some way.

Then, when he turned ten years of age, a year without seeing hide nor hair of his mother and brother. Came a man, Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters was confident, self-assured. Well trained. Having money to spend in spades and spades yet making all that and more. The eyes of someone who thought themselves better than most, eyes of a snake, a spider, slowly waiting for something to take the bait.

Despite all of this, a certain sense of loneliness seemed to hang around him like an ever-present cloud. Something Danny only realized was there, when he caught the man broken down.

Daniel did not know how to feel of Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters did not like his father, even though he seemed to treat his mother like an old friend, the same way his father treated him. He seemed both fond and somewhat off put by his sister, Jasmine Fenton.

Daniel finds himself respecting and sympathizing with that sentiment.

Jasmine Fenton was nice. Social. Unaware of her unconscious ability to think herself superior. Thinks she is often right. Does not like to be wrong. Likes to think things through.

Likes to peer inside of someone's head.

Daniel does not like that. Vlad does not like it either.

But she is nice, good intentioned, his sister. So he will overlook it. She is also Vlad's goddaughter, and so he too, will overlook that trait of hers.

Daniel was not interested in a great many things. He was not fond of swordsmanship, even though he was ruthlessly trained in it. He was not fond of building like his father, not as fond as running calculations to make inventions work like his mother, was not fond of, and while a useful ability, peering into the heads of others.

He was, however, found of what he found in Vlad Masters' basement. Something he believes was to be kept secret, yet found anyway.

He was unsure of how much time he spent occupied with what he found, time spent with eyes that only blinked when they were forced to because of dryness.

Time that was cut, when the owner of said basement, found him.

Curiously enough, he did not throw him out, and Danny did not notice him when exactly the man got there, nor how long he was there, until he made himself known.

He offered to teach Daniel of the knowledge he so sought, and Daniel only took a few seconds to accept the hand outstretched to him.

Four years. Four years did Daniel study under Vlad Masters, growing his understanding of the human body, watching how exactly to hold a scalpel properly, how to use certain equipment, what exactly to do that would let the human body heal without changing anything too much.

How to help, how to save lives. What to use to cut away pain, and help those in need.

A way to repent for every inch of blood on his small hands, was what Daniel saw.

Vlad Masters did not often make mistakes. His every move was far too calculated for such a thing. But he does, in rare cases, make mistakes.

One of them, was how Daniel found out about his unique biology. Vlad Masters was something called a halfa, a mix between the undead and living, a ghost and human.

It reminded him, not for the first time since he came to live in Amity Park, just how much ectoplasm reminded him of Lazarus Water. Yet he could tell, knew they were different due to various factors.

He wondered if he should try and write to his mother about this, more than once.

He did not.

After his 14th birthday, Vlad said that there was not much more he could teach him. Daniel soaked up all the knowledge given to him like a sponge, and retained all of it easily.

As a jest, he was told that he was allowed to pick a new name because of this.

He thought it was serious.

So he chose Danny. A name that came from one the rare, soft moments between him and his elder brother. Where he could not yet pronounce his name properly, before he underwent correction, a time where both of them were all smiles and no blood on their hands.

Danny.

The rift between Vlad Masters and Jack Fenton somehow, without his notice, closed. They were acting as if they were the best of friends, more so his father than Vlad Masters, and they became a functioning family with their odd little quirks.

When he turned 15, he went to Gotham. He was living with his sister while she attended college there, he did not want to go to school, so he did not.

It took many a time of convincing for them to finally allow it.

Danny did not know Gotham. He knew of it. He knew this to be the home of his brother's father, Bruce Wayne, that it was the city with the most crime, the city home to a notorious number of villains.

The city under watch and protected by Batman.

But not much more than that. He did not care for his brother's father, for whatever legacy he had fell only to his brother to fulfil. He hoped his brother achieved what he wished for.

Back then, and still today.

He wandered the streets of Gotham when Jazz was occupied. Familiarizing himself with the environment and finding out what was where and where is that.

Not for the first time, he found injured, and not for the first time, he treated them free of charge.

He had more than enough money to resupply himself, thanks to his mentor filling his account with money every month.

He gained a bit of a reputation, that child with a far too large lab coat. Dead fisheyes, a wandering doctor who treats anyone injured he came across. Though his reputation was small, having recently just came to Gotham.

One day, curiously enough, he found something new in his endless days of wandering.

A boy dead on his feet, covered in dirt, a ruined suit and looking like he just pulled himself out of a grave crossing the street, unaware of the car speeding towards him.

He was hit, and somehow landed in front of Danny.

He crunched down on his lollipop, throwing the stick through the air and into a nearby trashcan without looking while opening another and placing it in his mouth.

He took the boy home in what a normal person would essentially call a kidnapping,

He did not know how the boy, older than him, survived the trip back to his home. But he wasn't going to complain about it. He entered a room, one filled with medical equipment, the best that could be offered, and placed his mystery guest one of many beds.

He treated him as best as he could, then left to go get something to eat.

He still stuck to his wandering, but he regularly checked in on his guest. A week later, and the boy was awake, sitting up in his bed when Danny opened the door to check on him.

He introduced himself as Jason Todd.

Then he disappeared for some time, and the bed that held him for a week was empty.

Sometime later, he heard of Red Hood.

He did not know what to think of the gunslinger in red, and what his stake in the politics of Gotham would be. He didn't exactly care for the politics, so he stayed away from it.

He did not know why the Red Hood held good will towards him, considering they have not met before. But he was claimed to be under his 'protection' for reasons unknown.

The reason, he found out, after carrying the man to his home (it was a bit of struggle, but Danny was the son of Jack Fenton, and took after him in strength as well, although to a lesser degree), placed him in one of many beds, and found out his identity.

Red Hood was Jason Todd, a patient he had not seen for some time now turned lord of crime.

It was a bit surprising, but not something that mattered.

Perhaps it should have, when he found himself sitting across from the protectors of the night who decided to invite themselves into the house alongside his sister with a Red Hood that looked like he was none too pleased by this situation.

And a brother he had not seen in many a year.

Lois Lane: Sooo. Wanna tell me who that guy punching Superman around his?

Henry, a former scientist seconds away from breaking down into an anxious mess: Okay so you know how last month a government facility was raided by the Justice League?

Lois Lane blinks slowly, then scoots a little closer with a smile that Henry couldn't quite place between friendly and hungry. "No I have not, actually."

Henry rubs a hand through his hair, a clear, resounding fuck echoing in his mind. "Okay, right so." He swallowed, taking a glance over at the fight happening a distance away before averting his eyes just as quick when he saw Superman fly through a wall.

Answering questions is much better than watching that. He would think.

"I'm probably not supposed to be, you know, saying this-" He gestured awkwardly with a hand. "But you know what? I've already lost my job so might as well. So there's this secret branch of the government- probably disbanded by now, who studied these creatures called ghosts-I'm sure you know ghosts, everyone knows ghosts." He pushed his glasses further up his face as the reporter nodded.

"Right, so um." He made the mistake of glancing over to the battle, only to jump slightly at the energy blast that flew overhead. "Oh sweet Jesus-" He found himself petting and armful of blob ghosts to calm his nerves. He cleared his throat. "Right, um. Where was I again..?"

"Secret government branch who studied ghosts." Lois Lane helpfully reminded him, causing Henry to nod. "Right. Yes. So, if you look to your left at the nerve-wracking fight happening right before our very eyes."

"I wouldn't exactly call it nerve-wracking." Henry gave the blankest look he could as soon as the words left the reporters mouth. "Please tell me you're kidding me."

Lois Lane only gave an amused smile in response. Henry, decidedly, moved on from that.

"Ghosts were declared non-sentient by the GIW a couple of years ago, and allowed for the capture, experimentation and extermination of ghosts if you so choose." Lois Lane raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth, but Henry responded before she could speak. "I know what you're thinking, and yes. Which is mostly why it was a secret government branch."

Henry took a deep breath as a blob ghost nuzzled into the side of his face. "The one you see fighting with Superman is- no was, subject K2. Otherwise known as Danny, or Phantom, or the King of the Blob Ghosts."

"Is there any meaning to the K2 in subject K2?" Lois asked, and Henry nodded.

"King class-2." Henry took off his glasses, waving away the blob ghosts in his arms to clean them before placing them back on his face. "Otherwise known as the second recorded King class ecto-entity currently known to us."

"Who is the first?" Lois scooted a bit closer, petting a rather curious blob ghost who floated near her, then took a look at him and cleared her throat slightly. "If you don't mind me asking, of course?"

'Did I actually look that bad' Henry thought, fixing his glasses. "The Ghost King, King of Ghosts, the uh, the guy who tried to take over the world that one time, you know...?"

Lois Lane, in fact, did not know.

'Oh my.' Thought Henry, staring blankly in the fire in the woman's eyes as he felt he was slightly in danger.

===

Superman felt very confused by this situation.

First, there was a voice calling his name quite loudly-maybe they just didn't know he had super hearing? And while at first, he thought it was someone that needed his help.

The tone of the voice and what happened right after he got there proved otherwise.

He was worried about this being the start of a new villain, but that wasn't the case at all. The man seemed to be holding back-just like Superman, and seemed all too willing to let him stop the fight to go help others in need so long as he came back to finish it.

Which happened.

Often.

And more than once he came back to find the man sulking around a multitude of green blobs and a man named Henry who looked a hair away from an anxious breakdown.

Then it was back to the fight.

Superman actually felt quite... good? He could use a lot more strength than he normally would, and this guy would be eating them up and dishing them out right back at him. He would even call it fun, it isn't often he's able to spar without it being for his own life, someone else's or worrying about breaking someone in half with his strength!

A arm wrapped around his shoulder, breaking Superman from his thoughts. "You know, for a baby you're pretty good at fighting kid!"

Another thing that caused him confusion. This man spoke in clear and perfect Kyrptonian.

"I'm 30 years old, Mr...?" His words only drew a wider smirk from the man. "Call me Danny, or Phantom. Whichever you prefer actually." The man then winked. "Exactly, that's baby numbers, so you're a just a wee lil baby."

Superman was curious. "And how exactly old are you, Phantom?"

Phantom brought a hand to his chest, floating away from Superman in with an offended gasp they both could tell was fake. "How rude! Don't you know it's a bad thing to ask a king his age?" Phantom smirked, then snickered and waved a hand. "I can't exactly answer your question anyways, I lost count around when I went past 200." He then placed a hand on his chin and looked in thought. "Though, I guess if you add in time travel you could say technically past the 1000+ mark." The man then shrugged.

Superman did not quite feel like opening that pack of worms, not that he would've been able to as Phantom looked to the side and gasped. "My baby is bonding!"

And he was instantly off.

Superman blinked once, then twice. Before deciding to slowly follow behind him. His slowly tapped down onto the roof, an act with drew Lois' attention for a single moment before going back to the current objects of her interview.

Phantom, it seemed, in the time it took him to get there. Moved to sitting down right behind Henry with his legs on either side of the man, arms around his chest, head resting on top of his own and an amused smile on his face while various blobs tried to wiggle themselves between the two of them as he answered Lois' questions.

Lois Lane then turned to him, with a fire in her eyes that would've had a lesser man taking a step back. But Superman is not a lesser man.

So, he gulped instead.

Vlad opened his eyes expecting to look up at his cieling.

The pair of eyes staring straight into his own was not what he wanted to see.

"I need you to make a clone of me." Danny, ever the grain of salt in a pile of sugar, said with all the tact of something who didn't just break into a man's room.

Vlad squinted up at him and scowled. "Hello to you as well, Daniel. Not even a good morning?" He groaned, reaching a hand up to massage his temple to try and offset the headache he could feel settling in. "Do you have the slight clue what time it is?"

"It's 3 AM."

Vlad blinked, and his scowled deepened. "That somehow makes it even worse." He sat up as Danny leaned back, and reached for his side table, taking up a glass with little difficulty and downing the water in few gulps. He then sighed and looked back at Danny. "What is this about making a clone of you?"

Danny crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Exactly what it sounds like, fruitloop. I need you," Danny pointed a finger at Vlad. "To make me," He then pointed that finger at himself. "A clone."

Vlad's eyebrow twitched at how Danny spoke. As if he were explaining someone complex to a child. He sighed, killing whatever retort was on his tongue to instead rest his head in his hand.

"There should most likely be one left that I haven't melted down yet, do with that what you will." He shifted back some until he could rest against his headboard and waited for the nuisance to leave-

"Why are you shirtless?" Inquired the child that was still there.

Vlad opened his eyes to shoot his a glare and he scoffed. "Are you not going to run along towards whatever need you have for a clone, child. Or do you insist on ruining whatever peace I have left?"

"Is the clone an actual clone or..?" Danny tilted his eyes, eyes roaming off Vlad to the lump beside him.

"No, it won't suddenly come to life, it is just a body." Vlad explained as he manifested a wing to hide said lump from Danny's gaze. "So you need not worry about that part, though why you would need one is beyond me."

Danny stayed quiet for a moment, before shrugging. "You still have a clone of me though? That's kinda weird dud-" His smirk was slapped right off his smug face by a wing as he flew back a bit through the air.

He matched Vlad's glare with one of his own as he rubbed his face, before huffing. "Fine. I'm leaving now." He phased through the wall, leaving with the whisper of fruitloop and leaving Vlad in that blessed, of so sacred silence.

Sadly, it was not to last.

His bedroom door was slammed open, with enough strength to shake the entire room and cause the poor thing to slam into the wall with enough force to crack the blood thing. "Dad! Those weird birds are-" The voice momentarily interrupted by two shouts of alarm.

"SWEET BUTTER BISTCUITS!"

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

"-...Why are you naked...?" Danielle said, a look of disturbed confusion on her face before she ducked low to avoid a blast of magic. "Okay, now that was uncalled for- ewwwwwwwww!" She then screwed her eyes shut and put her hands over her eyes and looked as if she might puke.

Vlad, deciding to spare his daughter from a sight only he should've seen this morning and acquainted himself with quite thoroughly last night, he moved a wing to hide his partner's... private bits, from sight. Who then decided it would be the best idea to sit down.

On Vlad's wing.

If Vlad were any lesser man, he might have complained. But he was not. So he did not.

He did shift his wing around, however.

"You have a kid?" John Constantine, conman extraordinaire, rather shamelessly took the glass offered as Vlad covered the both of them with a sheet and drank the water. "Would a been nice to know before I shot at her, actually."

Vlad massaged the bridge of his nose, a headache coming on that in no way was because of a hangover and sighed through his nose. "She was not even supposed to be here for a week more, so there was no reason to tell you anything."

To which Constantine shrugged.

"Why are you here, Danielle. You were supposed," He stressed the word. "To be somewhere in Metropolis."

A single eye peeked out from between the girl's fingers, before she let out a relieved sigh and dropping her hands. "Those weird birds tracked me down to tell you they want to meet you." Dani wrinkled her nose. "Though I think you should put on clothes though.

"Weird birds-" Vlad paused, sneaking a glance over at his alarm clock to see that it was, in fact, 3:15 AM and groaned. he dropped his face into his hands. "Those blasted phoenixes, it's three in the morning!"

Dani just shrugged and stepped out of the room. "They're in your living room by the way, the fourth one down the hall that takes the two right turns, and they're getting pretty impatient." She then paused, staring straight at Constantine, who stared back with a raised eyebrow.

Water dripped down his face and down onto the bed as a ball of water slapped smack dab in the face as he reopened his eyes with an unamused expression.

Dani stuck her tongue out and then disappeared down the hall.

"Well, I'm awake now at least." Constantine said, reaching over Vlad's lap to place his now empty glass onto the side table.

A loud screech cut through the noise of the mansion, and for the second time. Vlad groaned.

It was only three in the morning...

"Hey Jazz, I need you to put my arm back on-" Danny paused as two sets of eyes landed on him, one of which bounced over to his stub of an arm, his elbow (and the rest of his arm) hanging limply under his armpit and back over to his face and repeat.

Danny blinked slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He very forcefully stopped his instinctual reaction to throw his severed arm at the red crime lord and instead wrinkled his nose in disgust.

They've already tried fighting in Jazz's apartment. Didn't end well for either of them.

"Ew." Danny eventually said, and if Red Hood wasn't wearing a mask Danny would say he was probably sharing his same look of disgust. Not that he ever saw the guy's face but who cares.

"Danny." Jazz, ever so calmly, warned. Danny killed the words on the tip of his tongue, sending a quick glare Red Hood's way before looking around the room.

He's already seen it, but better than looking at that thing.

"You two know each other?" Red Hood asked, and Danny scoffed.

Loudly.

"Danny." Jazz hissed in his direction, Danny pretended to whistle with an innocent expression as he stared hard at a particular wall. Jazz sighed. "Yes, I do. He's my little brother, actually."

Red Hood grunted, and silence descended onto the room as Jazz dealt with the Crime Lord's injuries.

A moment.

"Must be pretty stupid to get his arm cut off, or incompetent. Probably both."

"Oh you son of a-"

"Boys." Jazz said, voice sugary sweet and smooth like honey.

Instinctually Danny straightened his back, standing up as straight as he could. Red Hood, since he was sitting down, sat straight instead.

"What did I tell the two of you about fighting?" Jazz asked, and Danny wondered if he should just jump out the window now.

He could probably get away with hitting that red lamppost on his way out too.

"Boys?" Jazz repeated, and Danny looked over to the window. "Danny, Red Hood. I would like to let you know that that window has recently been reinforced," Danny stiffened. "I would have to thank mom and dad for that later actually. So please, don't entertain any thoughts of jumping through it."

Danny grumbled over his breath before huffing. "You said not to when we're in your apartment."

Jazz nodded. "Good, now Mr. Hood?" Jason grumbled something under his breath, and Jazz nodded again. "Wonderful. However, please do not call my brother stupid or incompetent for losing his arm in the future."

Red Hood stayed as still as a statue for a moment, before eventually, hesitantly, nodding. Jazz copied the movement, before turning her face slightly in Danny's direction. "Danny, please close my door and actually get in." Danny did so, sweat slowly dripping down his back when he heard it auto-lock behind him. "Sit over there please, I will be with you in a moment."

Danny did so, quietly cursing his parents' decision to send his sister reinforced glass that acted against his in this very moment just in case someone tried to break into her window.

Or out of it, apparently.

Damian has beef with a homeless kid. Both as a Wayne, and as Robin.

As a Wayne, Damian being alone outside was a rare thing. Most of the time a sibling would be accompanying him or wouldn't be too far off, but he was well and truly alone for the first in a while.

Then he stepped into an alleyway and nearly got hit in the face. It wasn't unexpected, considering this is Gotham, but it's unusual for a thief to be bare-handed.

They then devolved into a fistfight and, while the other boy's form has at least some foundation it was pitiful in comparison to the Demon's Heir and the son of Batman. But the boy had quite a lot of power that he threw around with his punches and kicks, power that Damian used against him while simultaneously dodging his attacks.

There was an invisible line that the boy refused to let him cross that led deeper into the alleyway, and he somehow managed to do exactly that. Looping Damian right back to their starting positions at the start of this fight, Damian at the mouth and the unknown at the middle point.

Damian then caught sight of familiar green scales, a groan, and a very familiar voice calling out "Kid...?" The boy in front of him seemed, genuinely, panicked at the voice's interruption, but not with fear.

But with worry.

So then Damian left, pushing away each and every notion that he should detain Killer Croc right then and there with the logic that he didn't even have his uniform and the proper equipment to effectively deal with someone of Killer Croc's powerset.

Somehow, whenever he was alone from his siblings, he's always met the boy, whom he learned was called Danny via overhearing Killer Croc speaking to him. Their meetings always started in a fight, and ended with no victor as Damian sneaked away as soon as Killer Croc made his presence known.

No wonder he's been so quiet, it seemed he either had a child or found one.

===

As Robin, Damian would admit that he was caught off guard by the same boy who acted as Killer Crocs 'bodyguard' (either for the mutant himself, or everyone else. He doesn't care enough to find out) and would say it was a good move.

But that was as much praise as he was willing to give.

Robin recognized Danny at first glance, if not in looks than surely the fighting style he was familiarized with over the past few months. A mixture between refined and wild.

As always, he threw far more power than his body should allow for someone of his build and age, so perhaps he was a mutant as well. It didn't matter, what did, however, was how each of the punches thrown could punch straight through a wall.

Robin never let himself get hit fully to test if it could as easily pierce the human body as well.

As usual, Robin was either redirecting, outright dodging or blocking (when he wasn't able to dodge just right enough for the attack to not hit him) the attacks that came his way. And, as always, wherever it seemed Killer Croc went, Danny went as well.

Wherever Killer Croc found this boy, Robin would give him credit for being able to choose his protegees correctly.

Robin let no one else deal with Danny whenever he's on scene along with Killer Croc. His father wouldn't even fight him unless it was necessary, most of the time busy with Killer Croc himself, Nightwing was occupied in his own territory, as well as Red Hood.

Robin would not so humbly refuse to even entertain the idea of Red Robin as a candidate.

When Killer Croc escaped, Robin let his opponent chase after his guardian to nurse the wounds that came, more often than not, from counters to his own attacks.

He always had an excuse ready as for the why.

===

Damian Wayne saw something surprising, when he met Danny again.

Robin's own attack being thrown at him.

Of course, it was sloppy and almost painful to look at. But it still surprised Damian, nonetheless.

He spent some time effectively guiding Danny to perform the attack to an at least practical level. Not that Danny asked, or he offered, but it was easy to guide the flow of the fight to what he wanted.

===

Robin was surprised. Not to any great level, but it caught him off guard.

Danny had almost perfectly countered his attack.

It was still sloppy in some places, needed a bit more refining and a great less of the power that was unconsciously behind it. Other than that, it was performed that Damian could say he was almost impressed.

Danny landed a hit on him, and he was quite sure he may have broken a rib, bruised his chest, or both.

So of course, he ruthlessly beat the boy into the ground while pointing out each and every flaw in his technique. Then let him run off after his... master? Father?

He does not know the significance of the role Killer Croc plays to the boy, but he let him run away after him back to the sewer systems.

Of course, an excuse already on lips for his father to hear, and even better, physical evidence to back up his claim.

There was a man fighting Superman.

A man with flaming hair and red eyes, who would honestly look like your average biker if not for said flaming hair, red eyes, and the fact he's fighting Superman.

The man was going blow for blow, punching Superman through buildings, being punched through buildings himself and laughing as he fought like he's feral or something. Which, unfortunately, results in a large amount of property damage.

Until it was stopped by a kid wearing nothing but an oversized pair of sweatpants, slippers, and a Nasa shirt.

"I'm going to disassemble and hide the parts of your beloved bike if you don't stop." Danny said, arms crossed. "You wouldn't dare." Said Dan, copying his pose exactly.

To Superman, it looked like a perfect mirror between brothers.

The silence lasted for a few full minutes, toxic green staring into glowing red as they both refused to budge. Before the older shrugged and looked away.

"You know? Fine, have it your way squirt." Danny scoffed. "Well excuse me when you're trying to fight Superman of people!" It was Dan's turn to scoff. "You're overreacting."

"I'm going to punch you into Mars I swear."

Dan smirked as he cracked his knuckles. "Aw, does the lil dude wanna fight me again? You already know how that panned out last time and you don't got the element of suprise anymore."

Danny scowled, before cursing at him in Ghost Speak. Dan's face twisted, before he started growling back his own cruses.

Superman stared.

He cleared his throat.

"Excuse me, but are you two perhaps, Kryptonian?" Superman asked in near perfect ghost speak. Which didn't exactly say much since it was more about intent and, well, if your language was dead or not.

Both Danny and Dan paused, slowly turning to stare at Superman in undisguised shock. Dan quickly pulled his younger self closer and turned away from Superman to whisper into his ear. "When the fuck was Superman a ghost??"

"How am I supposed to know!?" Danny whisper screamed.

Both forgot that Superman had super hearing, and could listen to their conversation. Out of respect, however, he chose not too.

"Special delivery!" Shouted a boy, who should not be here at all speeding towards them on a hoverboard. Easily dodging the attacks that flew at him due to his sudden entrance with tricks and teases of "Miss me!" or "Even my dad can shoot better than that!"

Regardless, he came to a quick stop before the Flash, rummaged around in his pocket and throwing something into the air that quickly became a green shield that looked like a Lantern contruct but yet not quite.

"Fenton-made Ghost Shield Generator, or GSG for short." The kid shrugged, quickly reaching into his fanny pack and pulling out a full box of takeout that shouldn't have been able to full in there, warm and ready, and held it out to the Flash. "Usually, I would charge extra for it, but you can have it on the house!"

Flash and the boy exchanged their goods, food for money that the boy swiftly counted through. Unconcerned that he's one a battlefield while Flash ate his food.

"I might order from you again, honestly." Flash said, and the boy gave him a smile. "Please do! It's not every day we get someone from the League as a customer! Oh right!" The boy dug around in his pocket for something, pulling out a glowing green sticky note and putting onto the Flash's forehead.

Who didn't take any offense to the action, only letting out a confused gesture towards it.

"Something about warning you about something in the future, I don't know really." The boy shrugged, adjusting his stance on his hoverboard and hitting a button with his foot. "All his sticky notes are really cryptic though, cause he's just like that."

The GSG dropped into the boy's hand, staring at it for a moment before throwing it over to the Flash. "Eh, you can keep that. I can just ask my parents for another one anyway." He sped off, giving the hero a wave as he cackled while dodging more attacks. "Keep up the great work!"

Then he disappeared into a green portal, which closed behind him as quickly as it opened.

"You're odd."

Tim turned to Danny, who was braiding one of the younger horses' mane and tiled his head. "Am I?" He asked, continuing to run a brush through the mane of his father's caretaker's steed. "I don't think I'm odd."

"Well yea, cause you're you." Danny huffed and gestured at his with one hand, pulling it back to comfort the foal in his lap before recontinuing to braid. "It's not bad, not really. But I thought Fright Knight just cared about serving the Ghost King and betraying him occasionally." Danny sniffed. "I didn't think he had an actual life beyond that and then boom! You appeared." Due to having his hands full, he gestured at Tim with his chin.

"And that's... odd?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Tim looked up at the sky, the clear night sky full of twinkling stars that he would have never seen in Gotham. By now he would be sneaking out of his manor to try and catch more pictures of the ever-elusive Batman and Robin. He was so close to figuring out who they were.

He just knew it.

Unconsciously, his hands slowed down until they stopped entirely. Eyes squinting as he pulled up what pictures he had in his memory and trying to connect the dots.

An arm wrapping around his shoulder snapped him from his thoughts. "Don't take it too hard. I'm odd, you're odd, we're both odd." Tim thinks there was a misunderstanding here. "Me and you? We're odd buddies!"

Tim blinked.

He blinked again.

Something warm was in his chest.

"Odd buddies?" He asked and Danny presented his pinkie finger with a smile. "Odd buddies!"

That was the first pinkie promise Tim ever made.

The infinite Realms has recognized the bond established between the Ward of Time and War and the Ward of Fear.

"You're odd." Red Robin stated, arms crossed over his chest and both voice and expression flat.

The Ghost Prince, most recent potential addition to the Justice League, merely shrugged. "You're odd too." He said, sending a finger gun in the vigilante's direction.

Warmth bloomed in his chest when he saw the look of recognition and mirth in the Ghost Prince's eyes.

He didn't forget him.

Red Robin held up hand, pinkie finger extended and a smirk on his lips as he tilted his head slightly. "Odd buddies?"

The Ghost Prince mirrored his smirk, and curled his pinkie around Red Robin's.

"Odd buddies."

"So, heard you're gonna go and live with the big bad bat." Damian's neutral scowl deepened at the sound of his voice. Instinctively, his hand flew to rest on the pommel of his sword. "Woah, woah. No need for violence, big bro."

'There was always a need for violence.' Damian thought.

"Aww, is big bro not happy to see me?" He flew around to Damian's front, hands resting under his chin as he smiled at him like all was right in the world. "Honestly, I'm a little hurt."

"What do you want, Daniel." Damian spat out, itching to unsheathe his blade yet restraining himself from doing so. "I don't believe you're here to just send me off."

"What? I can't just check in on my brother on the biggest moment of his life?" Danny asked, sounding so innocent that he was almost believable.

Almost.

Damian's eyes narrowed.

"Eh, ya got me." Danny leaned back in the air and shrugged. "I really don't care that much about you to do that."

"Then why are you here?"

"Well," Danny casually waved a hand. "Just wondering if the big scary shadow man would actually like you."

"What." Damian demanded.

"You know." Danny smirked and tilted his head slightly to the side. "You're a murderer, assassin, pretty evil in the eyes of the law and practically everything the Batman stands against. Plus, not to mention his other children-"

Danny paused when the tip of a sword poked against his throat.

"I am his only true child." Damian spat out.

Danny stared down at him, for a moment, no visible emotion through his eyes and face. One would almost call it unnerving. Yet the moment passed quickly, and the corner of Danny's lips quirked upwards.

"Yea, you made sure of that." Danny began, chuckling as he leaned forwards, metal cutting into skin as toxic green spilled from the wound. "But honestly, we both know you can't kill me anymore."

Damian snorted.

"And we both know you can still feel pain."

Damian opened the door to his room and walked in, the door slipping shut behind him as his brother jumped down from his shoulders to the floor and smoothly slipping into a stretch before moving over to and jumping onto their bed.

"We're going to be living with father." Damian stated, not that he needed to.

"Mrroow." Was his answer.

Damian frowned, tilting his head to the side a smidge as he walked over to the bed. "Are you not pleased?" He asked, watching as Daniel rolled over onto his back, paws hanging in the air as he huffed. "Father is a great man, it only makes sense that Mother would send us to him one day. I believed you had already expected this."

"Meow."

Damian's frown shifted back to his neutral scowl, before humming in acknowledgement.

"Ah, you are upset that you won't be claiming the inheritance?" Damian snorted, crossing his arms as he looked down at his younger brother. "You lost the battle, dear brother. Naturally, the title of Robin falls to me." He stated, uncrossing his arms and slipping off one of his gloves to flick Danny on the nose.

It was Daniel's turn to snort, before he snagged a finger between his teeth and bite down hard enough to draw blood.

Damian's eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit.

Daniel looked up at him innocently as he licked the wound he made with his tongue.

Damian sighed.

"You're lucky you are rather adorable, little brother." He said, moving his fingers to rub beneath Danny's chin. To which he let out a content purr as Damian's expression settled back to neutrality.

"How do you want me to refer to you?" He asked after a few moments, causing Danny to look up at him curiously from where he was laid out, his brother's hand over his stomach. Damian tilted his head slightly. "Brother-in-arms, or my brother?"

"Miao."

"Pick one, Daniel." Damian stated, pausing the belly rubs to look at his brother before resuming when a paw patted against his wrist lightly. "I am not allowing them to refer to you as a simple pet."

Danny gave him a flat look, before huffing.

Damian hummed.

"You're right," Damian nodded. "Being underestimated would be useful against Father's false children. It would do well to have more cards to pick off our competition." He said slowly, looking into Danny's eyes. "But are you certain? There is a chance they would believe us."

Danny reached up to swat Damian's cheek lightly with his paw, a look equally as flat as the first being sent his way.

"Hm." Alright, Damian would give him this one. "You're right, if even Grandfather and Mother doubts that you truly are my brother, then the chances of Father believing so are low."

Daniel let out a smug purr, happy that Damian saw his way.

Damian let out a sigh.

His brother truly was lucky that he was the most adorable creature Damian had ever laid his eyes upon. Of course, his little brother was undeniably the cutest before his death, yet coming back as a cat (that as far as Mother, Grandfather, and the rest of the League were concerned. Was merely a pit creature that had taken a liking to their heir)?

Well.

Damian wasn't one to complain about his brother's return.

No matter what form he takes.

Vlad disliked leaving Danny alone with a practical stranger. Even if he had done a truly thorough screening and background check of the individual beforehand. That didn't mean he had to like it.

Unfortunately, however, it was necessary for him to establish a proper foothold for himself in Gotham City. Most especially among the high members of its city.

Connections were key, after all.

Ah, he should most likely teach Danny that when he gets back. Even if he decided not to play around with the high crust, it was still important knowledge to have.

The gala itself was fine, he rubbed some elbows, laid out a few honeyed words, managed to obtain a few favors while giving out even less. Though he did not exactly wish to converse with Brucie Wayne, he knew he would have to just to not been seen as disrespectful at the very least.

Bruice Wayne reminded him far too much of Jack. A startling amount of resemblance, really. And oh how Vlad hated that fact, hated how the man had just up, died and left this hole in Vlad's chest alongside Maddie's death.

He should've been ecstatic about it, for it was what he wished for was it not? Yet now.... With reality...

He shouldn't dwell on such things, he has a boy who needs more than Vlad would be able to give if he was stuck in the past. That being said, he also did, indeed, need to make it through this gala as well.

He never was able to because his son. His boy.

The only thing he had left of them.

He was there, present in a place he shouldn't have been. Vlad didn't even question the fact of how Danny was able to find him, didn't question the fact that despite being turned into a child he still had access to his Phantom form.

No, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of relief.

And pure, unfiltered wrath.

Because right there, in the middle of his forehead, was a wound. Unable to be from anything but a gun, leaking ectoplasm and clothes messed from some terrible, unfortunate, struggle.

His halfa status grant him the ability to survive.

Yet was it so terribly unfair of Vlad to wish that he shouldn't have needed, should not have been in any situation close, to needing it?