Chapter Text
Tim rooted through his closet. He pulled out hangers, holding the clothes up in front of Danny to gauge if they might be the right size. This one looked as though it might fit, but Danny scrunched his nose at it.
Too many of the clothes in his closet were formal, and Tim had a feeling Danny wouldn’t feel terribly comfortable in them. He’d managed to snag a few flannels though. There was a small pile accumulating on the bed. There probably weren’t any shirts left in Tim’s closet that Danny would actually like but-
Tim reached towards the very back, grabbing a binder he hadn’t worn in years.
“Here,” he handed it to Danny. “It’s a little old and stretched out, but that just means it’s safer to wear for longer. I think Cass probably has some sports bras you could borrow too, though I’m not sure if you’re the same size.”
Danny’s eyes widened in surprise. “You…”
“Yeah,” Tim said.
“I wouldn’t have guessed. Not that- not that that’s the goal or anything- I mean- fuck.”
“It’s fine,” Tim shrugged. “I’m stealth for the most part, so not as many people know.”
“Cool,” Danny’s ears were red. “I- that’s cool. Really cool.”
Tim remembered all of the moments growing up where he’d met someone who was visibly trans, or even just passed them in the street. There was one time in particular, at a gala when he met a trans woman, tall and regal in her royal blue gown. He thought she was the prettiest woman in the world. She certainly looked more comfortable than he did in his frilly pink dress, and she was even wearing a tiara. At eight years old, Tim was certain she was a princess.
There was that rush, that feeling of ‘you’re like me’ that he hadn’t understood back then. It was a feeling of awe.
Tim wasn’t used to being the older trans person that someone else looked up to. If people read him as queer, they usually just read him as gay, which was what he preferred. He didn’t usually have moments like this. Nineteen wasn’t even that old, but aging worked differently in the trans community. Older didn’t always mean physically older if someone had been out and living as themselves for longer.
“Amity Park is tiny. I don’t exactly meet a lot of other trans people. So it’s really really cool that you- you’re really cool.”
Tim could hear the awe in his voice. Tim had no idea what to do with that. Sometimes people spoke to him like that when he was Red Robin, or back when he was just Robin, but not when he was Tim. This was different. There was something more to this.
“You’re cool too, Danny,” Tim said.
Danny beamed at him. He really was adorable. If Bruce didn’t adopt this kid, Tim was going to.
He cleared his throat, pointing to the dresser. “Third drawer on the left has a bunch of graphic tees. That’s probably more your speed.”
…
Danny stuck close to Tim. He felt a bit like a lost puppy, but he didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t want to be around his parents right now, and he’d get lost again if he tried to wander the manor on his own.
This place was huge . It put Vlad’s mansion to shame, which made sense. Vlad was new money, and the Waynes were as old as old money came. The manor was built way back when places were still made with servant quarters and multiple wings.
They ended up in one of the living rooms- this place had multiple living rooms- that looked cozier than the rest. There were blankets strewn about and the bottom of one of the couches was ripped up. Damian was already there with a cat in his lap, along with two people Danny didn’t recognize. They both gave a small little wave.
The first was a dark skinned guy with looked who looked only a year or two older than himself. The second was an Asian girl who was a little older than Tim. They introduced themselves as Duke and Cass.
“Where’s Dick?” Tim asked.
“On his way,” Duke said. “He’s picking up toothbrushes.”
“Don’t we keep extras?”
“We do. We would still have them if it wasn’t for Steph and Damian’s stupid prank.”
“Tt. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes the fuck you do, you little-”
“What about Jason?”
Duke just sighed.
“So you’re Danny then,” he asked, changing the subject.
Danny shrugged. Why did he shrug, that was a yes or no question. He nodded instead.
“Cool, man. We’re picking out a movie right now. Want to help narrow it down?”
…
They ended up watching Meet the Robinsons. It was a family favorite, apparently. Danny only half paid attention to it. He sat stiffly on the very edge of the couch, next to Tim.
More people trickled in throughout the movie. There was a guy, Dick, who had the dumbest mullet Danny had ever seen. Dick was loud, and he talked through most of the movie. There was also a girl, Steph, who wasn’t actually one of Bruce’s kids but everyone seemed to consider her family anyway. She was tall, really tall for a girl, and that might have been enough to clue him in on its own. He didn’t need much clueing in though, since one of the first things she said to him was “Yo, samesies.”
They left him alone for the most part, which Danny appreciated. He preferred to sit quietly and observe. It was even kind of fun, watching all their antics.
When Dick wasn’t busy talking over the movie he was tricking people into cuddling with him. So far Damian, Duke, and Tim had all been tricked by fake wrestling matches. Cass didn’t need to be tricked. When Dick wanted to cuddle with her, he somehow ended up the little spoon.
No one tried to cuddle with him, thank the ancients. He didn’t know them like that yet. The most that happened was Steph asking him to braid her hair. It was long and blonde and she was terribly proud of it. It felt special that she even let him touch it.
Danny had experience with braiding. He braided Jazz’s hair sometimes, and his own back when he still had long hair. Once he sat with Valerie while she got her hair braided professionally so that she wouldn’t get bored. That took way longer than he thought it would, even after Valerie had told him it would take hours.
Valerie looked pretty in braids. She looked gorgeous with her natural hair too. Danny thought she looked adorable that time she wore her hair up in big poofy space buns. He missed her. They hadn’t dated all that long, but it was nice while it lasted.
Steph handed him an elastic off her wrist. He twisted off the end of the braid, letting it fall over her shoulder.
…
Lunch was louder than it had been in a while. They rarely had this much of the family in one place when there wasn’t an ongoing case. The only people missing were Bruce, Barbara, and Jason.
“He’s having a talk with Danny’s other parents,” Alfred explained.
“Other parents?” Danny frowned. “I’ve been here a day. We haven’t even done a paternity test.”
“Eh, that’s kinda irrelevant.” Dick said. “He’s got a serious adoption problem. I swear we get a new one every year.”
“Actually when you do the math…” Tim counted down on his fingers. “I think it’s about a year and a half? Duke arrived-”
“Last April,” Duke cut in.
“Close enough. Damian was three years ago? Give or take a few months. Before that was Steph-”
“Oy! He didn’t adopt me.”
“He would have.”
“Okay fair. He definitely tried.”
“And of course Cass around the same time,” Tim continued.
Cass gave Danny a little wave.
“Anyway, B didn’t technically adopt me until after my dad died, but I’ve been pretty much living at the manor since I was 13- which was six years ago?”
“There was a pretty big gap between you and Jason,” Steph pointed out.
“Not if you count Jarro.” Dick said. “We can’t forget Jarro. I swear he was B’s favorite Ro- kid.”
“Who’s Jarro?” Duke asked.
“Uhhhh…” Dick glanced at Danny nervously. They couldn’t all speak freely with a civilian here, family or not. “Bruce’s starfish? Kinda? Jarro was his pet starfish.”
Danny sunk in his seat. This was bad. This was worse than bad. Bruce had seemed normal enough, if a little blunt, but Danny did not need another rich fruit loop trying to adopt him.
Now that he looked closer at them, all of Bruce’s kids looked weirdly similar. For a bunch of people that were supposedly adopted, they all looked suspiciously like Bruce. Duke had a similar jawline. Damian had the same big ears. Tim had the same nose. Dick and Bruce had matching paper thin scars on their left eyebrows. He couldn’t even tell which one was Bruce’s biological kid. If he had to guess anyone, Danny would go with Cass. She had dark hair and eyes and all the same mannerisms as Bruce did.
Danny laughed nervously. “Next you’re gonna tell me he has a creepy basement with a cloning vat or something.”
The look Tim gave him was odd. Danny hoped it was paranoia that made the hair on his arms stand on end. “Bruce doesn’t have any cloning vats. Promise.”
That very tellingly did not rule out a creepy basement.
Danny was probably being paranoid. Probably. Just because Bruce was rich didn’t mean he was Vlad.
Except, Dani told him the last time she visited that she met Superboy, who was a clone of Superman and Lex Luthor of all people. There was definitely precedent for rich weirdos cloning people.
Danny bit into a tuna sandwich. Alfred had made a few different sandwich options, assuring everyone that there was plenty. He wouldn’t mind if Danny took a second one, maybe even a third.
“This is really good,” he told Alfred. “It’s nice to have something that isn’t mystery meat or barely edible tuna surprise.”
Eating the same thing for lunch and dinner got annoying after a while, but it was better than wondering whether or not his dinner was going to come alive and attack him. His parents really needed to stop keeping their ectoplasm samples in the fridge.
“Ah, school lunches?”
“Mmm hm,” Danny nodded. “The Lunch Lady’s great, but she’s not exactly the world’s best cook. You’d really think she would be with how obsessed she is about the whole thing. I can’t complain too much though, because she always packs me a bag for dinner on weekdays, which is really nice of her.”
“I see.” Alfred’s tone was clipped.
He motioned for Damian to move out of the seat to Danny’s left. Damian glared, but it was half hearted. Alfred’s word was law. He took a seat close to Dick and Alfred sat down next to Danny.
“And what do you do on the weekends?”
“I usually just hang out with Tucker or Sam- they’re my best friends- and raid their fridges. Sometimes we go to Nasty Burger- bad name I know, but their burgers are actually really good and Val sometimes gives me free food if she’s on shift.”
Alfred added two more sandwiches to Danny’s plate before he began to fill his own.
“I assure you there’s plenty to eat here. If you’re ever hungry between meals don’t hesitate to let me know. We can get you some snacks to keep in your room as well.”
“Thanks? I guess?”
Danny frowned. Alfred was acting weird. He looked up towards Tim for reassurance and half the table was suddenly very interested in the table cloth. Tim at least had the decency to look at him, but it was with such an intense laser focus that Danny wished he wasn’t.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Tim added another sandwich to Danny’s plate.
Danny stared at it. What the fuck.
…
Suffice it to say, Danny did not finish all of the sandwiches on his plate. Alfred somehow managed to guilt trip him into finishing two and a half. Danny needed to learn his ways. He was too powerful.
They all gathered up their dishes together, but Alfred refused to let any of them help with the actual washing. Apparently he didn’t trust any of them that close to the stove. There had been a few too many accidents.
Danny wondered how much trouble they could have actually caused. It wasn’t as though they had to fight off reanimated food every time their parents decided to do a bit of home cooking. And anyway, they were all rich. Anything the Wayne kids managed to break could probably be replaced without too much hassle.
Danny’s phone rang. It was- huh. Why was Valerie calling?
He picked up.
“Val?”
“Phantom.” Valerie growled. “Where the hell are you?”
Danny had to do a double take before he realized- oh this was his burner phone, the one he used as Phantom. His regular phone was still phased into his bedroom wall, where he’d hidden it from his mom during her frantic searching.
At least Danny regularly called Valerie by her civilian name when they were alone. Otherwise this would be a far different conversation.
He cleared his throat, stepping quickly away from the rest of the Waynes. He gestured to his phone, and thankfully that was enough to keep them from following as he walked down the hall.
“What’s going on?”
“Fucking everything is going on.”
“That’s not actually helpful-”
“It’s all the ghosts. All of them. Not literally but- fuck there’s so many. You’re not here. Not even the Fenton idiots are here. It’s just me and-”
There was a loud yelp, and then a whirring noise as Val’s suit powered up.
“They just keep coming. How soon can you get here?”
“I can’t- I’m not exactly in Amity park right now.”
“Then fly your sorry ass here. I don’t care how you get here, just get here.”
Danny couldn’t fly that far. Even if he could, Danny didn’t know the way. He was terrible with maps.
“Val-”
A loud crash. Valerie groaned.
“Val, I can’t. I would if I could but- wait.”
They’d left in a hurry. Danny’s parents were terrible about leaving the portal open which meant it was usually up to Danny to make sure it was closed. The portal could have been open an entire day at this point. That was an entire day of ghosts coming through. As good as Val was at being the Red Huntress, Danny tended to take the bulk of ghost fighting, especially during the night. It was difficult not to, when the ghosts were escaping through his basement.
Danny ducked into an empty room. There. It was private enough. Tim and Steph were actually pretty cool. He didn’t want them to think he was weird if he started talking about ghost stuff.
“The portal, Red. Is it closed?”
“Vlad’s portal?”
“No, my- the Fentons.”
Inwardly, Danny cursed himself. That was a close slip up.
“Get to the basement. Close the portal. Ghosts should stop coming through. Be careful .”
Another crash. Danny’s core lurched. He should be there, helping her, not in an unfamiliar city with people he’d only just met.
“I’m serious Val. The Fentons are terrible at lab safety. They leave stuff lying around all the time. You could trip and fall or- or- just be careful.”
“Alright, alright. I will.”
“ Promise.”
“Promise,” Val said. “And this will stop the ghosts?”
“It won’t stop them from attacking, but it should stop more from escaping the zone into Amity. I- I wish I could do more.”
He knew, logically, that what happened to him was a one in a million chance. But that didn’t mean Val couldn’t get hurt, it just meant that if she did she’d probably die all the way instead of just half.
Closing the portal doors wasn’t that difficult. She would be fine. Really, she would be. It was just one little button on the far wall. One little button-
Danny stayed on the line with her the whole time, just in case.
…
Danny exited the room, closing the door softly behind him. He looked down at his phone as he walked, not quite paying attention to his surroundings.
It sounded like the problem was a lot of ghosts, not any ghost in particular, but what if a more powerful one had slipped out? Most of Danny and the Red Huntress’s rogues weren’t exactly subtle, but there were a few that liked to plan. Nocturn, Walker, Spectra, they could all stay on this side of the veil for days or even weeks before people realized something was up. Valerie’s suit was pretty high tech, but she couldn’t sense ghosts the way Danny could. Even the best sensors in the world couldn’t detect possession, and most had an extremely limited range. She was a good fighter- the best fighter in Danny’s opinion, but she was a better fighter when Danny was there with her. They both were.
Should he just fly back to Amity? It would create a ton more family drama he didn’t really want to deal with, but if he left he wouldn’t have to deal with the current drama either- or he would, just not now. Danny didn’t know if he could handle even more drama. Besides, that was a long flight, and Danny wasn’t great with directions. Knowing himself, he’d get lost and somehow end up in Antarctica.
It wasn’t just the logistics that held Danny back from simply slipping away. With the portal closed, and the Fenton’s far away from Amity, Danny had to wonder if the ghosts would even be a problem in Amity any more. They only ever got out in the first place because his parents were shit at remembering to close the portal doors. Now, the portal was closed, and as long as his parents stayed in Gotham it would most likely stay that way.
Was Amity Park better off without the Fentons? If so, wasn’t Danny obligated to stay? If Danny flew away now, his parents wouldn’t stay here. They’d either end up in Amity park looking for him, probably assuming he was kidnapped by a ghost or something along those lines, or they’d forget about anything other than ghosts now that the problem wasn’t directly in front of them. Either way, the portal would end up open again.
So he didn’t have a choice then. Danny was going to stay.
Danny smacked into a large chest. He thought it was his dad at first, but his dad didn’t wear cashmere cardigans. It was hard enough convincing him to wear regular clothes. Thank god Bruce and his dad were pretty much the same size, or he would be wearing the jumpsuit again. Danny was pretty sure wearing a jumpsuit in Gotham was a bad idea, something reserved for vigilantes and rogues.
Hands reached for his shoulders, steadying him. Bruce took a step back. He cleared his throat.
“Alright.”
“What?”
“Are you alright.”
Bruce’s words were stilted, close to monotone. It seemed as though he’d rather not be speaking at all.
This awkward, quiet version of Bruce Wayne wasn’t what Danny expected at all when they all showed up on his doorstep.
Danny’s dad peered out from behind Bruce’s frame. It was weird to see him looking so… normal. He wore jeans and a simple white t-shirt that he’d somehow managed not to stain. It was weird. All of this was weird.
“Danno!” His dad said. “Just been having a chat with Brucie here. We cleared some things up. Talked a lot about logistics- I have no idea where we’d be without him. Do you know you’re supposed to call the school when you take your kid out of the state? I sure didn’t know that.”
While he talked, he reached out, going to ruffle Danny’s hair. Danny cringed backwards on instinct. It wasn’t always easy to remember how he was supposed to act when he was Danny, when he was far more used to just being Phantom anymore. Especially ever since Jazz left for college.
Bruce’s expression sprung to life suddenly, but at the same time his shoulders sank. “Jack,” he said animatedly, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to bore the poor boy. Kids don’t want to hear this drull stuff.”
The hand paused in the air, right before it reached Danny. His dad turned back around to face Bruce.
Bruce rambled on about things that didn’t really matter, using words in ways that Danny was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be used. He sounded like an airhead. But airhead or not, he managed to steer Danny’s dad away from the hallway, and away from Danny.
Danny sat down where he was. He might as well. He didn’t know how to go anywhere in this stupid rich people house- if it could even be called a house- without getting lost.
That whole experience was unnerving. Danny had no idea what to do with it. Jazz knew psychology stuff, but Jazz wasn’t here.
That personality shift bothered him. It reminded Danny of Vlad almost. Except, Vlad only ever acted that way if he had something to gain. What on earth did Bruce gain from that interaction?
Soon after, Bruce came and sat down beside him.
He did something with his hands, that Danny didn’t quite understand. Then he took a deep breath. Opened his mouth. Closed it again.
“Hn.” Bruce said in lieu of words.
Bruce looked absolutely exhausted. Bruce didn’t look at Danny, instead tracing the grain of the hardwood floors.
Danny furrowed his eyebrows, studying him. “What, ran out of words or something?” He joked.
To his surprise, Bruce nodded.
Bruce reached into his jacket, pulling out a set of laminated cards.
He handed one to Danny.
Selective Mutism, it read.
“Uh, okay? I don’t know what that is.”
Bruce flipped the card over in Danny’s hand. Oh.
Inability to speak or communicate in certain settings.
“You were speaking earlier though.”
Another card. I can make myself speak but it’s exhausting. (That is not a challenge to try to make me speak.)
“You’ve had this conversation before, huh.”
Yes. He tapped the card another time for emphasis.
“Why’d you talk so much with my dad then? It kind of freaked me out. Is that rude? I don’t know if that’s rude.”
Bruce cleared his throat again.
“You don’t have to-”
He shook his head. “You said, you don’t want to be touched.”
Danny had said that, hadn’t he. Today was so weird, it was hard to keep track of everything.
“He was only gonna ruffle my hair. It’s not- you didn’t have to do all that.”
No.
“Seriously. It’s not a big deal.”
Bruce tapped the card again. No.
“Geez, okay. I get it.”
Danny couldn’t help but think that was an extreme reaction. Still, it was kind of sweet. It put their earlier interactions in more context too. Bruce’s kids were probably more used to Bruce talking without actually speaking.
Was that thing Bruce did with his hands sign language? That was a way of talking without speaking. Danny didn’t know sign language though, so he had no way to tell. It could also be- what was that word Jazz used again? It started with an S?
Bruce stood again. He walked down the hallway, pausing at the end. He was doing that thing again, where he just started walking and expected the other person to follow.
Danny pulled himself to his feet. Might as well.