Chapter Text
There was an odd shift in Gotham’s atmosphere.
“Nothing on this end.”
“Nothing here either.”
“Same.”
“Hood, what about you?” Oracle asked, the crackle of his comm breaking him out of his reverie.
“Oh, uh, yeah, nothing.” he said.
“Hood, are you alright?” Bruce asked, his voice softer than one would normally hear with his modulator.
“I’m fine, old man.”
Robin scoffed, but Batman put a warning hand on his shoulder, and that was when Jason realized that maybe he wasn’t as okay as he initially thought.
There was no irritation sparking in him from dealing with his annoying ass family like usual, only an odd sense of peace that he hadn’t felt since before he died.
He itched to run a hand through his hair in mild frustration but stopped himself when he remembered his helmet. A rational part of him laughed at the fact that he was actually having a problem with feeling calm, but with so much time spent having anger coating his very being, it was like he was free from the chains holding him back.
“Let’s call it a night, then.” Dick said, in that old placating tone reserved for not wanting to test Jason’s temper. Normally it would only serve to make him more mad, but right, it was just sad.
Had he really spent all this time acting like a short fuse ready to blow, to the point where his family had to talk to him like they would trying to de-escalate a criminal?
God.
Jason launched his grapple at the nearby building, swinging away from the others. No matter how much he tried to dig deep inside, the hot green rage was nowhere to be found.
He should be relieved, but it only left him worried.
How long did he have, until it came back and he was once again under its control?
Could he ignore it, now that he knew how it felt to exist in peace again? Would he even want to?
Only time could tell, he acquiesced, as he came into view of his apartment building nearly slamming into the wall as he registered the fact that the light in his neighbor"s place was actually on.
For the first three years he lived in the building, no one rented next to him, to the point where he had recently considered just tearing down the wall in between and expanding his own residence. Thankfully, he double-checked the records and found the place was actually already being rented out, a full year paid out in advance. Jason wasn’t sure when exactly that happened, especially since he owned the damn building.
Well, Bruce bought it and put all the paperwork in Jason’s name, but whatever.
The point still stood. Jason made sure he knew all the ins and outs of what happened in the place, but someone renting out Apartment 509 never crossed his radar, especially since he was the only person that lived on that side.
He glimpsed through the window as he planted his feet on the bricks that separated them, unable to actually make anything out. Going forward, he’d have to make sure his neighbor’s balcony was clear before coming back.
He sighed, slipping quietly into his apartment, making a beeline to his security alarm, shutting it off before he got an alarm on his phone.
His helmet came off next, unceremoniously tossed onto the couch to be put away after a nap.
Jason rolled his shoulders, groaning as the built up tension started to be relieved. Lethargically, he stripped off his suit and weapons, feeling more exhausted with each passing exhausted.
After his shower and dinner, he laid in bed, falling asleep to one single thought.
What’s the deal with Jasmine Nightingale?
Jazz groaned as the sun beamed on her face.
She reached for her blanket, grumbling when she couldn’t find it.
She blinked her eyes open, an unfamiliar view coming into focus, panic rushing through her until yesterday’s events flashed through her mind.
Oh.
Right.
Jazz stretched, neck stiff from a night spent on the couch. Her mouth tasted rank and there was a growing pressure at the base of her head. She slumped back into the cushion, willing for a bust of energy to hit her so she could finally get the day started.
There was a lot that lay ahead of her in order to finally begin the life of her new identity, starting with whoever in this city that had helped Danny in the first place.
It’s not as bad as it sounds, he said, which only caused her to worry more.
She didn’t like the idea of her little brother befriending someone in such a city with no one knowing, but she trusted his judgment.
Alright Jazz, 1, 2, 3 , she thought and stood up with a groan, stumbling when black spots invaded her vision for a few seconds.
Her stomach grumbled loudly which she pointedly ignored as she walked over the first door along the wall, massaging her head as she went.
It was a simple room.
Queen size bed, a dresser, one bedside table and a tiny closet. There were no decorations but the paint looked to be a fresh coat. She opened the closet, finding a shoebox on the floor and empty hangers.
Jazz bent down to pick up the box, wincing as blood seemingly rushed to her head, making the headache throb, and took it over to her bed.
She opened it up, pulling out various files and items. The first thing was a forged birth certificate, carefully placed in a plastic sleeve, made out to her new identity. There were two names under parents that she had never heard before, and she hoped that no one would look too deeply into them.
There was also a New Jersey ID with the address to her current apartment, a driver’s license and an insurance card. A copy of a highschool diploma laid pristine in a black cover. Another pair of keys that were obviously for a car.
It was practically everything she would need to start brand new.
Tears welled in Jazz’s eyes and she sniffed, brushing them away.
She stood up, black spots blooming again in her eyes. She blinked them away while rolling her sore shoulder.
The second room along the wall was a bathroom. The third was another bedroom.
Her breath caught as she took in the haphazardly placed decorations. Star decals were plastered along the ceiling, a lone NASA poster on the wall, some knick-knacks and memorabilia on a shelf, plain blue bed sheets.
All of which was previously in Danny’s room in the Fenton household.
Ancients, how long had she been inside of it to not know that her brother was doing more than planning for the worst case scenario?
He had been planning for his future too. What happened the day before was just the catalyst to make his future their present.
The fact that Danny had prepared so much in advance would never quite lose its sting, but she would try her best to live in his honor.
The smog of Gotham took some getting used to.
She was making her way to the address listed at the very end of Danny’s letter. ‘Contact information’ was a generous term for him to use, since there wasn’t even a number listed.
Between the thick and thin of the city’s gray, whisps of neon green floating by, unnoticeable to the untrained eye.
For Jazz, however, it was all she could see, walking through the crowd like a lifeless figure.
It had to be the shock in her system that let her miss such a thing when she first arrived.
A hand latched on her arm, and she startled, coming to face a car mere inches from hitting her before the hand pulled her back at last second. She whipped around, a little breathless, looking at the teenage boy that essentially saved her life.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah.. yeah, I am. Thanks for that. I-I don’t normally space out that bad.” Jazz said with a dry laugh, feeling lightheaded. She glanced down at her arm where he was still holding on. He followed her gaze, and quickly let go.
“Sorry about that.”
“No worries.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again, eyes flicking to his side. Jazz hadn’t noticed it at first, distracted by the brightness of his aura and the swirls of green already around them, but shades flocked around him in the same way they had around her when she finally realized what they were, whispering relentlessly in their rushed tone, headache inducing as always. Her accidental regency had given her the ability to make them leave unless there was an emergency, and even then, their first choice was always their king.
“Yep.” she said, false cheering coating her tone before she lowered it for their ears only. “Are the shades bothering you?”
The boy startled for a brief half-second before plastering on a fake smile. “I’m sorry?”
Jazz internally facepalmed. Of course he wouldn’t admit it to a stranger. What was she thinking? She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, mustering up the most authoritative tone she could. “Leave us.” She felt the ectoplasm curl up behind her eyes as she used what little abilities she had as a liminal. Her head spun and she opened her eyes again to black dots dancing in his vision. She stumbled, the boy quickly reaching out a helping hand, which she took gratefully. At least the shades were gone now.
Nausea crawled up her throat and her stomach grumbled. It took Jazz a second to remember that she hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning. Of course she would be so out of it.
The boy stared at her, half in awe, half in puzzlement. “I have no clue what just happened, and I should probably be more alarmed, but they’ve been giving me a migraine since yesterday.”
Jazz blinked at the admission. She wasn’t sure why they would target this boy, unless…?
“Are you meta?” she asked tentatively. The boy panicked, stammering out a denial. Oh, right… Gotham’s anti-meta. “I guess that’s not something you just go around admitting. Sorry!”
The boy took a deep breath and shook his head, rubbing his temple. “This is not how I thought morning would go. Duke Thomas, by the way.”
“Jasmine Nightingale, but call me Jazz. Sorry for making your headache worse.”
“Not any worse than how it would be around my siblings, I promise. In fact, you driving away those things helped a lot. I wasn’t kidding about having that migraine since yesterday.”
“Shades,” she corrected. “They’re called shades.”
Duke closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I’m probably gonna regret this, but do you think you could explain it a little more?”
Jazz blinked. She doesn’t think she’s ever been the one to explain. It was always Danny.
Not that she minded, really. It was her brother that was directly associated with it. Sure, she grew up surrounded by it all, but the reality of it all never fully sunk in until she watched her brother fight a ghost and come to the conclusion that Danny had truly died. She didn’t mind talking about it, it was mostly that people never quite believed, even after witnessing it all with their own eyes
Duke stared at her, and she remembered she’d yet to respond.
“I mean, I’m not sure that—”
“I’ll buy you some breakfast.”
Her growling stomach decided for her. “Lead the way.”
The cafe was nice. It was bigger than anything in Amity, mostly occupied by studying students or friend groups.
Jazz and Duke claimed a table in the far corner.
She hoped it didn’t look weird for them to be together.
While she was only 19, and Duke apparently 17, her five-eleven height made her look older on occasion.
It came in handy sometimes, but this would not be one of those moments.
Duke ordered them two sandwiches, an iced coffee for him, and a smoothie for her. The food helped with the fuzzy feeling in her head, making it much easier to focus. Jazz felt weird about not paying, but Duke assured her that it would just make them even.
Considering he quite literally saved her from getting hit by a car, Jazz wasn’t so sure, but she wasn’t really in the mood to argue.
“So,” Duke said, taking a sip of his drink. “Shades.”
“Correct.” she replied, formulating the words she needed to say in her mind. “Also known more commonly as ghosts.”
“Ghosts….” Jazz watched Duke’s face as he processed the new bit of information he just received. “Yeah, okay.”
“I know it seems strange–”
Duke snorted softly. “Oh, not even top ten, to be honest. It’s nice to have the official name for it all though.”
“Wait, really?”
“This is Gotham.” was all he said.
“Right, well.” she coughed awkwardly. “Shades are just one level of ghosts. They’re on the weaker end of the scale. After that there’s what are formally called ghosts. These are able to take on a more tangible form if they desire, are capable of having possession, and oftentimes have powers.”
“Wait, are ghosts like metas?”
“No, they"re ghosts. You can’t be meta if you’re dead.” It was a bitter fact, one that was only made worse by the existence of the Anti-Ecto Acts. “By the way, never ever ask a ghost how they died.” Duke looked like he wanted to question it but she shot him a look that stopped him from doing so.
Good to know the older sister glare still worked.
“Noted. Right, well, I appreciate the crash course.”
“Happy to give one.”
“You feeling better now?”
“Yeah, I am. Thank you so much for the breakfast.”
Duke shrugged. “Like I said, call us even.”
His phone dinged and he sighed at whatever was on his screen. “You gotta go?” she asked.
“Unfortunately.”
“Oh, then, here!” Jazz grabbed a napkin from the table and a pen from her bag, blanking for a second as she tried to remember her new number. She spent far too long in the number trying to memorize so no one would question why she needed to read it off of her phone. She handed it over to Duke. “Just in case they bother you again, or if you have any more questions.”
“Oh, uh, thanks!”
As Jazz sat at the table alone, she pulled up the address she needed to go to on her phone. It would be a ten minute walk. She rose from her seat, stretching and throwing out her trash.
As she stepped out of the cafe, her phone buzzed, a message from Duke appearing on her home screen.
Jazz smiled, hoping that this was the step in the right direction to make Gotham feel as much like home as possible.