Chapter Text
Part I. Fenton
Danny was tired of white.
White sheets. White walls. White bandages.
There wasn’t a speck of color in his hospital room to draw his eye. Nothing of note to spark an interest. It was quiet, too, except for the faintest dripdripdrip he could hear with his enhanced hearing coming from the IV and the gentle, slow (slower than normal) beeping of the heart monitor. The lack of stimulation was maddening in how it allowed for his mind to wander. He didn’t like the places his mind went. Places of blood and ash, regret and guilt.
He had to get away.
Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan of pain. His ribs were still bruised. Better than their previous state of being pulverized into pieces, and he may have a high pain tolerance, but that didn’t mean he liked pain. Blowing out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed and found his footing. The IV pole, wobbling, was used to steady him as he stood.
Ah, right, the IV. His gaze flicked to where it was attached to the crook of his elbow. He knew it was a bad movie trope to just rip it out, but he couldn’t very well leave with it still inserted. Mindful to keep pressure on the skin around it, he pulled out the IV with a hiss. Red flecked with green welled up from the wound, and he let the IV fall to the floor.
There didn’t seem to be any cameras in the room, so, with a slow, wobbling gait, he made his way to the window. He transformed into Phantom, but stumbled forward as the rings washed over him and caught himself on the windowsill. It felt like his head was spinning in dizzying circles. Inside him, he could feel a hollowness in his core. He felt… empty. That was disconcerting. Being Phantom usually caused his core to stretch with glee, like a cat unfurling after a long nap in the sun.
Danny closed his eyes for a moment against the sensation. He knew what was likely causing the emptiness–a grief not yet settled in. His grip on the windowsill tightened, knuckles turning white.
He shoved the memories of the faces of his family and friends down. Deep down where they wouldn’t come up like bile in his throat every time he exhaled.
Gritting his teeth, he tapped into that determination to get out of this damned hospital. It didn’t even matter if the nurses noticed he was missing.
(There wasn’t anyone left to care).
A growl of frustration bubbled in his throat. The windowsill was cracking in his grip, wood splintering under the pressure. The noise gave him pause, and he glanced briefly at the damage he had done. He sighed. This sort of fixation was why he needed to get out of the hospital.
He pushed off the ground and flew through the window, not bothering to turn invisible or watch the streets of Amity Park pass by below him. Danny didn’t even know where he was going, he just had to go somewhere. The route he took was subconscious, and one he had taken many times before. Surprise didn’t even register when he looked up and found himself floating in front of Fenton Works. He landed on the front step and tested the door handle, expecting to find it locked.
The door handle turned. He raised a brow at that.
Now it was curiosity that settled in his chest, rather than the ugly tangle of feelings he wanted nothing to do with. He pushed the door open to find his living room empty and untouched except for one thing of note–the door to the lab was open. Cautious, he floated inside, feet barely an inch above the ground, in case there was any to hear his footsteps.
Danny froze at the sound of voices coming from the lab.
“Are you sure this was Enchantress’ doing?”
“Mm, sure as I can be.”
“And where is June Moore in all of this?”
“Eh.”
He moved closer and glanced down the stairs, seeing nothing. They must be further in the lab. Closer to the portal , he noted. Danny continued to listen.
“Forthcoming as always.”
“Can’t tell you something I don’t know.”
He turned invisible and flew halfway down the stairs. In the lab, in front of the closed ghost portal, were two men.The first was a blond man with the look of a stereotypical detective. He was even smoking. Danny’s parents would have hated someone smoking in the lab. But, what caught his eye was the other–Batman. Wide-eyed, he watched Batman turn from the portal to face the detective. Most of his face was obscured, but it was easy to see he was scowling.
“What can you tell me?” Batman asked, voice a low growl in his chest.
The detective shrugged, “This place reeks of death.”
“This is where the girl made her last stand against Enchantress.” Batman paused before adding, “To protect her brother, we heard.”
Enchantress. There was that name again. Danny’s heart beat faster. Was that the name of the ghost–the thing –that took his family and so many others from him?
“How two kids ended up here when the rest of their peers were in that collapsed school building is beyond me.”
He bit his lip hearing that. If either of the men thought too deeply about that, would they investigate him? What excuse could he give for how he and Jazz got out of the collapse the ghost–Enchantress–caused?
“Jasmine Fenton must have been exceptional to be able to take down Enchantress.” There was an edge in Batman’s voice that suggested that he meant beyond the standard definition of exceptional. That gave Danny pause. If they thought Jazz was the ‘exceptional’ one, maybe he could get out of a Batman encounter without his secret being found and tossed to the Guys in White.
“Shame it was to protect a dead kid, though.”
Batman made a noise of disagreement. “Daniel Fenton isn’t dead.” The detective raised an eyebrow at that and took a long drag of his cigarette. Batman continued, “He’s recovering in Amity General as we speak. Miraculous survival, they say.”
“Miraculous indeed. Fenton girl really must have been something special to keep him from Enchantress’ claws.” The detective sounded almost impressed.
“That’s what I’m looking into, yes.”
“What of the other one?” He asked, to which Batman tipped his head to the side briefly to question his meaning. The detective sighed. “What’ll happen to the Fenton boy? Is your ‘friend’ going to take an interest?”
Before the hero could answer, there was a faint beep and grainy sounds of muffled talking, presumably over some sort of communicator. Danny’s hearing was good, but not good enough to hear what was being said. Batman moved away from the detective as he said, “Very well, I’ll be there as soon as I’m able.”
The detective huffed and dropped his cigarette, grinding it under the heel of his boot. Batman gave a pointed look, to which the other man gave an annoyed shrug. “Ditching me, then?”
Danny, realizing the two men would be leaving the lab, retreated back up the stairs and out the front door. He didn’t want to be caught–leave it to Batman to have something that could detect him even while invisible. His heart was beating far too quickly for his ghost form, anxiety heavy in his gut. Overhearing the conversation had certainly shifted the churning of his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if it was better than before he left the hospital room.
Had he been in a better frame of mind, perhaps Danny would have given pause to the black curling in the corners of his vision as he flew back to the hospital.
The next day following Danny’s escapade, he was deemed healthy enough to be discharged. That would have been great had it not meant that the vultures better known as social services would be picking at the remains of his life. He was only half listening to the harpy talking to him now. She was prattling on about wills and laws.
“You do understand, right, Daniel?” She asked after a long pause.
He made a noncommittal noise.
The social worker he had forgotten the name of did not seem pleased.
“We’re discussing serious matters of your future, Daniel,” she scolded in what Danny bet she thought was a gentle, maternal tone but sounded more like thinly veiled condescension.
He spared her a side glance and shrugged, sardonically saying, “Something, something, my parent’s will.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes, your parents’ will. Did you listen to a word I said?”
“You certainly said words in an order.”
“Daniel,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “I was saying that your parents’ will designated your maternal Aunt Alicia as your guardian, but that she was deemed unfit.”
“I didn’t want to live in Spittoon anyways,” he grumbled under his breath. Danny didn’t have anything against his aunt, but he didn’t know her well enough to be too heartbroken at the news.
“Usually that means you’d become a ward of the state.”
He rolled his eyes. “You can just say foster care, ya know.”
“However,” the social worker with a sharp look, “Vladimir Masters has offered to take you in. From what I understand–”
“Pass,” Danny cut in.
“ From what I understand ,” she repeated, “Mister Masters was a close friend of your parents. He has resigned as mayor of Amity Park in wake of the Casper High Tragedy and will be moving back to his residence outside of Green Bay, Wisconsin.”
“I said pass. As in ‘nope, no way, not gonna happen’.” The last thing he wanted was to be stuck with Vlad for two years.
“Daniel, your only other option is to remain in foster care until you turn 18.”
“I’ll take my chances,” he said, shrugging. “C’mon, throw me in the system already.”
The social worker was looking at him like he had grown another head for turning down Vlad’s offer. He supposed that it was pretty nuts from the outside to so vehemently deny life as a billionaire’s charge. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by the shrill ringing of her phone. Looking at the caller ID, she muttered, “Let me get this.” The social worker stepped out of his hospital room, and Danny zoned back out, not bothering to listen in on her conversation.
He had already resigned himself to two years of being bounced around the foster care system. The moment he turned 18, he was going to find his way back to Amity Park. Hopefully things wouldn’t go to hell too much without him around to deal with ghosts popping through the natural portals that plagued the city. Phantom belonged in Amity Park, that much Danny was certain of. Anywhere he ended up, he’d have to be careful to keep Phantom hidden. If anyone made the connection between Fenton and Phantom, there wouldn’t be anyone to go looking for him when the Guys in White caught wind of it.
The door of the hospital room slid open, and his social worker stepped back in. Her lips were pulled into a tight line as if trying but failing to school her expression into something neutral. “There is,” she paused to take a deep breath, “another option apparently.”
Danny said nothing and frowned. She waited a few moments to see if he’d respond. He didn’t.
Continuing, the social worker said, “Another party has expressed interest in adopting you.”
That was suspicious. Wracking his brain, he wondered who it could be. No way would the Mansons do that–they hated him. The Foleys? Maybe for Tucker’s memory, but he wasn’t particularly close to his parents. He didn’t think he made that big of an impact on their lives. Valerie and her dad only lived in a two bedroom apartment, so it couldn’t be them. No one else in Amity Park had ever taken an interest in his life. He furrowed his brow and asked, “Who?”
“Bruce Wayne.”
Danny blinked.
What?
He glanced at his social worker’s face to check for any hint of a lie, but there was nothing except that almost neutral expression.
Then, it clicked.
The conversation he had overheard–the detective had asked Batman about his ‘friend’. It made sense that Batman would be associates with Bruce Wayne, when he thought about it. Afterall, the superhero had to get funding for all his tech and toys somewhere. If Batman was looking into this Enchantress ghost that Jazz defeated, maybe he pitied Danny enough to ask Bruce Wayne to take him on as another charity case. It added up, but he felt like he was missing something.
Still… he’d be lying if Danny said he wasn’t fond of Batman. The hero wasn’t his idol or anything dramatic like that–of course not! But, when he got his powers, he had sort of asked himself ‘what would Batman do?’ as a guiding principle. And, if Batman trusted Bruce Wayne, maybe Danny could trust the man enough to agree to the adoption. It’d keep him out of Vlad’s hands and out of the foster system.
Danny looked down at where his hands were curled in his lap. He relaxed his hands and stretched out his fingers. There were crescent moon shapes on his palms from clenching them too hard over the past few days. The emptiness that had taken up residence in his core stretched in anticipation.
He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Tell Wayne I said sure.”
The next two weeks passed in a blur of paperwork and phone calls. He was placed with a temporary family in Amity Park that he vaguely recognized from one time he saved their 6-year-old daughter from a building that collapsed during a fight with Skulker. They were nice enough and allowed Danny to spend his time there mostly in the small room they had set up for him. He learned, eventually, that his social worker’s name was Sarah (although he still was unsure of last name).
He passed the days lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and letting his mind drift, or locking the door and going for a fly around town as Phantom. To his surprise, there really weren’t any ghost attacks besides a few blobs bothering customers at the mall. Danny wondered if word about what had happened to Casper High and his family had spread around the Ghost Zone. A sort of respect had been forged between him and most of his ghostly enemies over time, and it wouldn’t be completely out of left field for them to direct their attention somewhere besides Amity Park out of that sense of respect. It certainly made him feel better about leaving for Gotham if that was the case.
The adoption process was being sped up from its usual timeline from what Danny understood. A combination of Bruce Wayne’s money and past record of successful adoptions, he figured. It only took a bit over two weeks for his departure to Gotham to roll around. His social worker Sarah had insisted on coming with him to see him off, so the flight there was full of uncomfortable small talk when Danny really just wanted to stare out of the window and wish he could fly alongside the plane.
Although he was trying to keep his mind off of it, he couldn’t help but think about the date. August 15th–the second anniversary of his portal accident.
It was strange to consider how his life would be changing on this day a second time with his official arrival at the Wayne household. It wasn’t as dramatic as dying and having your DNA recoded with ectoplasm, but it was still significant enough that he was struggling to think of much else. Stepping into that portal was simultaneously the best and worst choice he had ever made. Danny wouldn’t trade his life as Phantom for anything. Or, at least, that’s what he thought before the events of the previous weeks.
Now, he wasn’t too sure that he hadn’t caused this chain of events with the portal accident. Were the ghosts his fault? Was this ‘Enchantress’ his fault? Was Casper High’s collapse and all of those deaths his fault? The possibility of that wouldn’t leave him. So many people died, and was it all because Danny Fenton, age 14, tripped over a wire? His family and friends died–was that because he had taken up the mantle of Phantom? Maybe if he didn’t let Jazz get involved in ghost hunting in the first place, she wouldn’t have taken the Fenton Peeler and jumped into that last fight.
Danny tapped his fingers on the armrest restlessly. Sarah glanced at him questionly, noticing the agitation, but said nothing. She had come to understand that Danny didn’t appreciate her incessant questions if he was okay. The rest of the flight passed silently, Sarah’s idle chatter tapering off as Danny switched to ignoring her or only grunting a response.
When they landed and wandered the airport towards the pickup zone, it was a rather nice black car that came to pick them up. For all that Danny knew about car engines from years of watching his parents work on the GAV, he knew nothing about car brands besides that the car behind the man holding a sign with his name on it was very expensive. The man with the sign was an older gentleman wearing a three piece suit, although it seemed classier than when Vlad would wear something similar.
Sarah walked towards the man, gesturing Danny onward with her, and called out to him. He had a pleasant smile and demeanor, politely inclining his head in greeting and folding the sign under one of his arms.
“It’s good to see you both got in safe,” he said, voice smooth and warm, “I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the butler at Wayne Manor. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Fenton.” Danny shrugged in response and dragged his luggage over to the back of the car, moving to open the trunk and throw it in the back himself. Alfred stepped up next to him and took the luggage from him with an easy smile. “Let me get that for you.”
Sarah made eye contact with Danny and gestured towards Alfred, saying under her breath, “Thank him and introduce yourself, Daniel.”
“Fine,” he muttered back to her, then cleared his throat and spoke louder, “Uh, thanks for picking us up. I’m Danny Fenton, but you already know that, I guess. It is Fenton, though. Not Wayne.”
Alfred took the abrasiveness in stride, not seeming too bothered, as he replied, “Yes, Master Danny, I assisted Master Wayne with the adoption process, so I am aware you have kept your original last name. You do not have to worry about being referred to wrong by me or any of the family.”
“Oh, um, cool. Thanks, I guess,” Danny said.
The butler opened the car door for him, and he slid into the seat. It was far more comfortable than any car had a right to be, he noted. Sarah and Alfred chatted for a few minutes, probably going over some sort of official adoption business nonsense, before his social worker redirected her attention to him. “I’ll be leaving you in Mister Pennyworth’s capable hands, but we’ll be in touch.”
He just gave her a half-hearted thumbs up and buckled up. Sarah hesitated a few moments before shaking her head, and heading off in another direction. Getting into the car, Alfred lightly commented that the drive to Wayne Manor would be about an hour. At that, Danny popped earbuds in and turned on his favorite Dumpty Humpty album to listen to. A text from Sarah popped up on his phone.
Social Worker Lady: And remember, don’t be rude! Talk to him!
He typed back a quick ‘no’ and turned his phone on do not disturb so he wouldn’t be bothered by her response.
The ride to Wayne Manor passed by in silence after Alfred, glancing through the rearview mirror, noticed that Danny had closed himself off to conversation. The only sound between them was the faint hum of the engine (probably some sort of hybrid engine judging by the sound, he noted) and the music playing through his headphones. The Wayne Manor was in a nice, sprawling neighborhood full of old houses that looked more like small castles. It put a scowl on his face, as it brought up imagery of Vlad's garish green and yellow mansion in his mind. The car pulled up to park near the front entrance–a grand wooden double doorway. The place reeked of old money. After the car rolled to a stop, Danny unbuckled and wordlessly hopped out of the car. He pulled out his earbuds and shoved them back in his pocket.
“Are you ready to meet Master Wayne and some of his sons?” Alfred asked gently.
Danny gave another half-hearted shrug. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
As they approached the doorway, Alfred pulled it open for him and gestured him into the entrance hall. If he hadn’t been used to popping into Vlad’s various mansions so often, he might have been impressed by the house as he stepped in. It was meticulously well kept and tastefully decorated. He analyzed the room, carefully cataloging every detail of the entrances, exits, and potential threats before he let his gaze land on the people gathered around a loveseat.
There were three individuals–a man around his parent’s age and two teenagers. The man was obviously Bruce Wayne, but he couldn’t put names to the faces of the teenagers besides a guess that they were Wayne’s other adopted wards. The younger of the two looked like he’d swallowed a lemon as he eyed Danny up and down. Danny was curious to note that he looked quite similar to Bruce besides skin tone. The older one was much more relaxed, almost excited judging from how he was grinning and jittering his leg as he sat. Bruce and the older of the two teenagers stood up to greet him and Alfred.
“Daniel, I’m so glad to finally meet you,” Bruce Wayne said with a dazzling smile, reaching out his hand. It was the kind of smile that would easily win over anyone else, but Danny couldn’t help but wonder if it was just a mask. He certainly didn’t think Bruce was a bad guy judging by his working relationship with Batman, but he couldn’t be all sunshine and rainbows.
Danny cautiously took Bruce’s hand to shake. “It’s Danny. No one calls me Daniel.” Except Vlad, he added to himself.
Bruce nodded, taking that information in and then gestured towards the two teenage boys. “These are two of my sons–the older one is Duke and the younger is Damian. There’s also Tim, Cassandra, and Dick, but they no longer live at the manor.”
The older teenager, Duke, waved from where he stood next to Bruce, and Damian merely inclined his head as a greeting. Duke said, “We also have a handful of family friends that are practically family you’ll see around the manor! Stephanie, Jason, and Barbara.”
Danny nodded, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. He glanced back at Alfred behind him who had grabbed his luggage from the car. “Um, can you show me to my room?” He asked.
“We were just about to have dinner together,” Bruce interjected, “we try to have meals together as often as possible, since all of our lives are busy otherwise. You will not be required to attend, but there will be a spot saved for you.”
Duke flashed Danny a hopeful smile, but he glanced back to where Damian still sat, scowling, on the couch. He got the feeling that he wasn’t actually welcomed by the entire Wayne family. It set him on edge.
“Uh, usually I just eat in my room,” he said, “my family stopped eating together before my freshman year.”
A flash of disappointment crossed Bruce’s face, but the man quickly hid it. “That’s quite alright. Alfred can bring you something to eat after showing you to your new room.”
Danny mumbled a thanks under his breath and followed after Alfred up the stairs. He committed the hallways of the manor to memory as the butler explained what room each door led to. His room would be in between Duke’s and Damian’s rooms and have a bathroom of its own attached to the room. That aspect he was pretty excited about, since at Fenton Works he had to share a bathroom with Jazz.
“Feel free to decorate your room however you please. If you want to paint the walls or get new furniture, you need only ask,” Alfred said. “I’ll leave you to unpack and be back with a meal for you in an hour or two.”
He watched Alfred’s retreating form before entering his new room. Cautiously, he circled the bedroom and examined it. It was large–easily twice the size of his old bedroom–but bland. That was to be expected, he supposed. Looking at his luggage, he sighed. He really didn’t want to unpack, so he shoved the suitcase into the closet to deal with later. The bed looked like it might be a king size and was covered in plush pillows and a nice quilt. Flopping down on it, he sighed and relaxed into the blankets. The blank ceiling was white.
Danny frowned.
He’d have to change that.