Bare

by Atiya_Blackcharm

Summary:

Vlad’s home had been his alone. There was that oppressing sensation Danny felt every time he walked across that overly done foyer. That was Vlad himself and it reminded Danny who he was at the mercy of. He had no power there.

Walking into the Wayne Manor was nothing like that.

tldr; Danny is no longer in Vlad's grasp and instead finds himself at Wayne Manor.

Notes:

This is a sequel to Part 1 Hollow of this series 'Empty Spaces'. Part 1 will need to be read in order for this to make sense.

Chapter 1

Notes:

Posted 4/28/24

Daniel cried until he was a deadweight in Cass’s arms, though it was hardly anything compared to what she carried before. His knobby elbows pressed concerningly into her skin, his shoulder dug into hers. There was still an echo of grief on his pale face.

She could feel the small rise and fall of Daniel’s chest, but it didn’t make her any less keen on letting him go.

“We should get him to bed,” Dick said as he stepped forward with held-out arms.

Cass’s grip on Daniel tightened, his face pressing further into her neck. “I carry.”

“Are you su-”

“I carry.” Her eyes dug into Dick before looking at the others as if daring them to disagree. No one else protested.

It was easy to maneuver Daniel’s skinny limbs into a more comfortable position. He didn’t stir once she lifted them and started moving. She just carried him. She carried this stranger who looked so afraid, exhausted, and in pain. He didn’t let his guard down with them until he saw her. There had been a crack in his wariness and tears slipped through it.

Daniel trusted her enough to catch him and not to sink her fingers into that crack bringing everything down while he was in her grasp.

So, she’d carry him

____________

It was dark.

Cold.

So so cold.

Danny could hear the cracking of ice, that ominous sound, but it wouldn’t break. It could never break. Hands would scratch and push repeatedly, but the ice never gave.

Just beyond that blue ice, that white, he could see something. He could hear something that made his hands scramble against the biting cold. They would claw at it even if nails bled or his fingers grew numb.

He had to get out.

Get out.

It was so cold.

Get out.

It hurt.

Get out.

Danny woke up with a silent scream on his lips and froze in terror. Screams were never good. They meant he was heard and that meant footsteps in the hall and the creak of the door opening. It meant too tight grips and words that coiled around his throat making it hard to breathe or even let out a whisper. It meant pain.

He shut his mouth. He was good at that. Except a part of him needed to scream, to be heard. Please. Please listen. Please someone he-

-young spirit-curious-sleep-soothe-safe- brushed against him like an old cat, rumbling a soothing pur, warm against his cold.

Tension melted from his shoulders like light snow in the morning sun. His hands still shook but it was less than before and he dared to move them away from his mouth. Danny let out a breath.

He was okay.

He wasn’t with Vlad. He wasn’t in that man’s place. He wasn’t in that hotel. Danny was in a bedroom with a grand bed. Wealth showed in the design of it all, in the quality of the sheets that rested on his legs like how it did at Vlad’s except the Waynes were nothing like Vlad.

Vlad never had a House Spirit.

Vlad’s home had been his alone. There was that oppressing sensation Danny felt every time he walked across that overly done foyer. That was Vlad himself and it reminded Danny who he was at the mercy of. He had no power there.

Walking into the Wayne Manor was nothing like that.

There had been a greeting. An old curious and kind House Spirit sent out a greeting and a question about his reason for being there in the only way a ghost could. Danny could tell from the first moment that she was only curious about her new guest. That along with how protectiveness seeped into the very foundation of the land he walked on.

Then there had been the Butler, a man named Alfred Pennyworth who greeted Jim Gordan with familiarity and light amusement as he took Jim’s coat. He didn’t look at Danny in disdain when Danny hadn’t given anything to hang up next to expensive coats that somehow still looked like they belonged to someone. Mr. Pennyworth led them inside and past family portraits that did nothing to show the inhabitant as untouchable. Each paint stroke had a warmth that bled into how the subjects’ faces were full of life, fondness, and love for the others on the canvas.

A real family.

Danny could feel the love and history in the Manor’s walls. Not a hint of aggression from the House Spirit who brushed fondly against Jim’s shoulders and Mr. Pennyworth’s hands.

It struck Danny hard, that ache (that had nothing to do with the emptiness) flared up. Grief was threatening to swallow him whole, but he couldn’t face it yet. Instead, Danny held fast and listened to Jim while looking at the Waynes. They were full of care for each other. They stood strong beside each other.

Danny stood strong too, but he was still afraid even as the House Spirit tried to reassure him.

Then he saw Cass, a girl who had done more for him than she could ever know. A gentle touch after months of too-tight grips and rough possessive holds. She wanted to listen. Danny had been able to tell her and she heard him.

Now he could say even more and still Cass listened. She stepped close, ever gentle and careful. Alive and warm. Danny knew that she’d hear him again.

He knew that she wouldn’t let him fall - and she hadn’t. Now Danny was sitting in a bed that would probably be his for who knew for how long. He had no other one to go to. He had no othe-

House Spirits didn’t lie, Danny knew that. He knew that the Waynes were a real family.

But still, he was afraid.

He couldn’t stop looking at the door, waiting for footsteps and the knob to turn. The Waynes wouldn’t do that but Danny couldn't help but wait.

-safe-sleep-safe-young spirit-sleep-

Danny breathed out again.

He’d figure something out.

____________

When Jim answered Bruce’s call with. “Hopefully he didn’t do too much damage to the room. I’d be surprised if he had enough energy to do it again.”

“He’s gone,” Bruce said.

Bruce had gone to check on Daniel in the morning, hoping to talk to him and slowly have him get settled in since they hadn’t even had a chance to speak the previous day. Cass had taken him to the room and Danny never did wake. Any suggestion to wake Daniel up, even for a meal was met with a harsh stare from Cass. No one dared to go any further towards the door as they were well acquainted with how ruthless she could be in a spar, much less an actual fight.

She only acquiesced once they agreed to wait until morning, however instead of Daniel resting they were met with the sight of an empty room and an open window. The boys were already looking around and at the security footage outside and Bruce had dialed Jim’s number.

Jim had begun to ask questions but movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he saw that Cass had headed toward the closet door. He hung up the phone.

In the closet was the top bed comforter scrunched up with one still asleep Daniel in it and in his hands was a metal spike that looked oddly familiar to a piece of the small guardrail along the edge of the bottom of the window. When he took a step forward Cass put a hand to his chest.

He looked down at her but she was looking at Daniel with narrowed eyes. “Cass?” Was something wrong? Was Daniel somehow a threat?

“He is…on guard.” Cass finally said and Bruce took another look at Daniel.

The comforter was pushed against the inner wall of the closet. Daniel’s back was against it too with the front of his body pointed towards the closet door. The arm that held the metal spike was resting on the outside of the comforter, nothing on top of it as if to allow movement if necessary. It reminded him of people who slept when they were under the possible threat of an attack.

‘Awake?’ Bruce mouthed to Cass.

She shook her head. “Still asleep.” Yet she still kept her hand on his chest and Bruce did the same to Dick when he came up beside them. Daniel’s face had twisted and his grip on the metal tightened though his eyes were still closed. Slowly they walked back and watched how Daniel’s hands eased and his face calmed, only shifting slightly causing some white and black strands of hair to cover his face.

“You know you should probably call Jim back,” Tim said from his spot leaning against the window. “Not a good look for Bruce Wayne to hang up after reporting a kid missing. Though does help your ‘Brucie’ look considering he was just in the closet.”

Bruce couldn't help but sigh with a smile. Dick had already pulled the phone from his hands and was chatting with the Commissioner, loudly poking fun at Bruce in the hallway.

“So how is he?” Tim asked walking towards them and peeking through the open closet door.

“Asleep,” Cass replied.

“Thank you Captain Obvious,” Tim replied before squawking when she flicked his arm.

She smiled softly before it faded away. “He is scared. Waiting.”

“Even asleep?”

Cass nodded and Tim frowned. “We still need to question Vlad Masters and figure out exactly what he did to Daniel. Though… don't think we’ll get actual answers from weird vampire guy.”

“Not a vampire,” Bruce said but didn’t say anymore when Tim just raised an eyebrow at him in response.

“We’ll either have to wait for Daniel to wake up and ask or we could call Constantine.”

“Hn.”

“Waiting it is then,” Tim said because no one wanted to deal with an irritated Bruce and surely it wouldn’t be too bad to wait except three days later Daniel was still asleep.

From a distance, they couldn’t tell that anything was wrong. Cass was the only one who could come close to Daniel without his hand tightening on his makeshift weapon or making his face grimace. For all senses and purposes, Daniel was just asleep. Although the somewhat partially slower vitals were concerning, Cass had worried for a second when she finally got close enough to take Daniel’s pulse. It was relieving to note that they didn’t change and it was another thing they kept note of along with the white hair that he didn’t have before.

Just what did Masters do?

It had to do with Daniel’s soul according to what the JLD had said at first, except none of them had recognized what kind of ritual or magic had been used when investigating the hotel or where the final fight had gone down. According to them that ice that still hadn’t disappeared in the forest wasn’t something they had seen before.

Then there was the whole about the whole ‘Realms’ business that was going on in Amity Park from the little Constantine had said when they brought up this whole matter to him. Not that he said much.

There was talk of starting to interrogate Vlad but push back considering he was a being of this ‘Infinite Realms’ they barely had any information about. Either they didn’t like it and had questions on top of questions. The only other link they had to answers was Daniel, but who knew when he’d actually wake up?

When Constantine finally stopped by, not let any closer to Daniel than Bruce was allowed, he grumbled, squinted, and stared at Daniel. It was two hours later when he finally closed his eyes and collapsed on the floor outside of the closet. “Need a fucking drink,” he groaned clutching at his head.

“What did you find out?”

Constantine’s hand shot out to grab the collar of Bruce’s shirt, bringing him down and face to face. “I promise if you don’t get a drink in the next minute there will be another spirit in this Manor.” There was a silent stare-off for approximately 3 seconds before, without breaking eye contact with Constantine, Bruce said, “If you would Alfred.”

“Certainly, Master Bruce.”

____________

It had been a week since Alfred had the pleasure of serving John Constantine. That night had been rather eventful and partially concerning in how it led to Alfred having to drag Bruce to bed three times during the night. Truly the boy hadn’t changed as much as he would have liked to think since his younger days.

Though it made sense, Bruce always rarely let go of a mystery. That along with how vexing any encounter with Mr. Constantine was for Bruce much to his children’s amusement. His answers had only added to the questions and worry that surrounded young Daniel.

He was a young boy from a town that could not be found and related to a realm that had only been whispered about long ago in the mystical circles.

Mr. Constantine had said that young Daniel’s sleep was a magical one to heal. For how long, the man didn’t know. Though he tried, he had been unable to get a glimpse at the boy’s soul. When he had tried it was as if he were stuck in a dark blizzard with eyes staring deeply into him. He had fought to escape from their gaze. “Wasn’t the lad,” Constantine had added after taking another sip of the amber liquid in his cup. “Something else, but it had its eyes on ‘im. Fucking thousands of ‘em.”

“Is there any danger?” Bruce had asked and Constantine laughed before asking for another drink.

Alfred sadly disposed of two bottles of fine liquor from a lovely year that night.

Since then, things continued as they did whenever they had a new case. However along with Cass’s daily reports of Daniel’s health and pulling Bruce away from staring at the boy pensively for too long. Alfred would admit that he preferred to pull Bruce away from that room instead of from the Batcave seeing as there weren’t quite so many stairs to go up and down repeatedly, after all, he was an aging man.

With the quiet knock on his door, Alfred prepared himself to drag Bruce away to bed once more but was pleasantly surprised to see a different child at his door.

Young Daniel stood at his door with his arms full of the bedding he had dragged into the closet, no metal weapon in sight. The lad looked exhausted despite being asleep for so long and sweat lined his forehead causing his hair to stick to it, a mixture of black and white. He looked just about ready to collapse under the weight of the blankets bundled in his arms.

“May I help you with that, young man?” Alfred asked and was pleased by the subtle movement of the blankets closer to him, seemingly the most Daniel could do to show his permission. “Thank you, I’ll take these to wash and if you follow me I can provide some clean comfortable clothing to change into, perhaps after a bath if you’d like.”

Daniel followed him quietly and when presented with clothing made no protest. If anything he looked relieved to be with someone even if it was to hear an explanation of how the shower knobs worked and offer that any help would be provided if it was necessary. When he emerged freshly cleaned and dressed in clothing that was an array belonging to the young masters who were at times careless with their clothing, Alfred offered Daniel to follow him to the kitchen after his stomach let out a loud growl.

Alfred was reminded of Cass and Damian when they had first arrived from the way Daniel followed him. Ever watchful eyes and soft feet. Though, unlike Cass’s grace, Daniel stumbled at times and unlike Damian’s narrowed eyes, Daniel’s eyes were already sliding half closed the longer time drew on. Alfred was almost worried that he’d fall in the hall until they reached the kitchen and Daniel took a seat in the corner.

He ended up making a smoothie with a mixture of fruits and greens, a small attempt to give Daniel much-needed nutrients he had missed all this time being asleep. Alfred, pretended not to see the way Daniel’s eyes watched his movements carefully especially as he peeled and cut up the fruits and vegetables. It would be nice if there was a child in the house interested in cooking. However, Bruce had a habit of spreading his poor cooking to the other residents in the house -minus Jason of course.

Alfred spent the next half hour organizing and rearranging different cabinets in the kitchen despite having just finished that task four days ago. None of the others had awoken from the rough night of patrols and Alfred wasn’t keen on keeping them from much-needed sleep. That and Daniel had yet to move after finishing his cup, simply looking around the room, his eyes dancing to and fro to things that Alfred did not know. He’d simply let the lad be.

“I need to go get things.”

The whisper of that voice would have been missed in the hustle and bustle of the manor during that day with its residents awake. But in the early hours, Alfred heard it quite clearly.

A quiet request. The first chance he heard Daniel’s voice.

“Please.”

A polite request too.

It was only fitting that Alfred fulfill it to the best of his ability and with that, they were off. A relatively short ride later, they found themselves in one of the small shops that Alfred was rather fond of. Daylight had finally started to break and shopkeepers were beginning to open their doors in this area, their customers tended to be ones that preferred these mornings with the small crowds. Along with picking up a few things on his own list, Alfred kept an eye on Daniel as he perused the shelves. Thin shaky hands ran across the wood as Daniel walked by before stopping and after a moment of stillness, he would either move on again or gently place the item in the basket Alfred had provided. It was a process that was repeated until the basket was filled with an array of eclectic items that Alfred didn’t know the reason or manner in which Daniel chose them.

He had been quiet but polite when placing them at the front of the counter for purchase and soon enough they were headed back to the Manor.

Walking in Alfred didn’t get a chance to offer to carry Daniel’s items to his room before the lad froze and Alfred turned to see that Bruce had awoken. It was amusing to see the man still slightly bleary from sleep and in shock as he looked at Daniel.

The young man in question froze. “I’ll pay you back,” he said quickly, tightening his hold on the basket holding all his items.

Bruce opened his mouth but Alfred cut in. “There will be no need for that,” he said kindly and looked at Bruce until the man nodded in agreement. It was only then that Daniel finally moved, only slightly unbalanced as he walked past Bruce further into the Manor towards his room.

It was when Daniel was out of sight that Bruce turned back to Alfred, seemingly calm but Alfred knew better than that. “He was okay? Is everything okay?”

Alfred smiled. “I found him awake at my door early this morning, he was much more amicable about cleaning up than you had ever been and didn’t cause a mess in the kitchen.” He began to walk and Bruce followed, clearly listening to every word.

It seemed that in some ways, Bruce did indeed change.

“He’s still exhausted and possibly healing by the look of it, but he made a request to purchase several items and I saw no harm. Though I don’t know the reason and believe it wise not to ask.”

“...I’ll tell the others.”

“Rightfully so, Master Bruce.”

____________

Danny followed where the House Spirit led him. He had already toed off his shoes and when he stepped outside into the grass it was still wet from the morning dew. His arms were full of the items he had gotten during his outing with Mr. Pennyworth or Alfred as he liked to be called.

He could see why the House Spirit was fond of the man. Alfred had been kind even when Danny showed up at his door all of a sudden, going as far as to offer him new clothes to wear and something to eat. Danny had been able to wash away that grimy feeling he woke up with. The cold water had been soothing and the smoothie was fresh and sweet.

Then when suddenly something in Danny made him itch to go out because he needed something, Alfred didn’t even ask why. He hadn’t hesitated to lead Danny to an array of stores or to give him a basket to put all his things in. Alfred’s eyes followed him curiously as he scoured the shelf searching for things. Not once did he ask why he had chosen what he did which was good because Danny didn’t think he’d be able to explain it himself. He just knew.

Those items had felt right, being held against his chest in the baskets he walked into the grass, deeper outside to where bigger trees grew.

His steps didn’t falter as they stepped into the dirt and grass. They didn’t stumble once as he made his way until he knew to stop.

There was a tree stump, Clean cut from years long past. The roots crept out of the dirt, twisted and knotted enough that a creature could hide within them. Except Danny knew none lay there.

He knelt gently in front of it before setting the basket on the grass beside him.

He was quiet as he pulled out the different items. Six candles of different colors and different sizes. He placed five of them carefully in the notches of the roots around the stump before placing the last one at the center, it was one of pure white. He tied the aged black ribbon around it.

Danny then pulled out the dry flowers and set them on the stump to surround the candles before sprinkling petals among the roots. Then he used the frayed red yarn to tie the five candles to each other before winding the string down the roots until it touched the dirt.

The last thing he took out was an old sea glass bottle that still had seawater inside, Uncorking it he brought it just an inch from his lips before he started to whisper. The woods grew silent and yet none could hear his whisper. The wind swept up around him but not once touched him and the water inside began to glow. Then slowly as if gravity had been undone the water floated out of the bottle. Droplets hung in the air glowing like stars, clumping together and changing shape before settling down onto the wooden stump and its twisted roots. Unknown designs and sigils seeped into the wood and candles leaving behind an icy echo of what they had been.

With that he stepped back and sat, letting his feet and fingers dig into the dirt. He looked up to the sky peeking through the surrounding trees’ canopies and closed his eyes.

When Danny opened his eyes the sun was no longer high in the sky and there was melted wax dripping onto the black ribbon. His body felt heavy and weak, yet his chest was light and his breath filled him with calm. The ache had abated for a moment. He let himself lay in the grass for a moment before making his way back to the manor.

____________

That evening Cass noted that there was dirt on the palms of Daniel’s hands and soles of his feet.

Notes:

HAHAHAHA I have returned to this AU, not that I ever truly left it considering the outlines and so on in my Google doc that is several pages long. Kinda thinking this part of the series will be 3 chapters long but we shall see how that goes for me. :p

Multiple POVs my beloved, let me know what you think! Cass is best girl over here, Constantine is just fucking done, Bruce too in a more family man kind of way. Alfred is also doing what he does is being a GOAT. and hmmm what's danny up to? 0.0

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Chapter 2

Notes:

Posted 7/14/24

Amidst the gunfire coming through the coms Red Robin asked. “Hey A, can you tell me why the back door sensor just went off?”

“It's no concern of yours and truly you should pay attention to the fact that you are being gunned down, Red Robin,” Agent A diligently replied with a deep weary sigh at the resounding laughter that came from the other members who were on patrol and also getting shot at.

Of course when they returned to the cave later and at least two of them were begrudgingly being treated for a grazed bullet wound they failed to bring it up. However, that may have simply been because of the look Alfred was giving them considering they had promised high and low that they had the situation completely handled.

The next time that the sensor went off it was when Tim who had been benched due to an incident with the skateboard earlier that day, stared hard at Alfred who simply offered him a glass of much-needed water instead of another can of his favorite energy drink. “Don’t think I’m not gonna see what that’s about,” Tim said before chugging the water.

Alfred took back the empty glass with a serene face. “I wouldn’t dare to Master Tim,” he said and yet for the rest of that night, Tim missed being able to go and check on what had tripped the sensor at 3 am and what did it again an hour later. It was only two days later that Tim finally was able to find out the cause for the alarm going off every day and when looking back at the logs had been going on for a while.

When Dick and Damian came back from a fortunately uneventful patrol, Tim’s voice broke the silence of the cave.

“Apparently,” Tim said, swiveling the Batcomputer chair around to look at them, “Daniel likes to go walk outside, barefoot.” Alfred the cat was lying on his lap.

“Could you be any more of a dork?” Dick asked as Damian stomped to pull Alfred away from Tim.

“Yes, yes I can.”

Damian just huffed and held Alfred close to his chest while scowling at Tim. “You are a child.”

Tim simply smiled and looked down at Damian seeing as he still had time to grow. “Says the child.”

What followed was nothing unfamiliar and only came to a stop when Bruce walked in to find Alfred watching a rather entertaining scuffle that truly didn’t have any of the techniques he had shown his sons over the years.

“They truly take after you Master Bruce,” Alfred said stepping beside him.

“Hn.”

“I take it you're aware of our guest's early morning ventures?”

“Yes.”

It was no surprise that Bruce was aware that for the past week or so one of the back door sensors was going off at 3 am every morning. The culprit, none other than Daniel who after an hour would come back inside and back to sleep. The cameras couldn’t tell where it was that he had gone but it was in the same direction he had gone with his arms full of supplies from when he first woke up.

For some reason after sleeping all day, Daniel would wake and exit the manor on the dot at 3 am and come back, his feet showing dirt on the soles in the morning when Cass would check on him. But other than that time in the early morning, he did not wake. It was only a matter of time that his boys would notice.

“We could just follow him ya know,” Tim suggested after getting out a tricky choke hold Dick favored to use whenever they got into scuffles at home.

“Tim, your stalker tendencies are coming out,” Dick said getting up and grabbing a discarded towel to throw at him.

Tim caught the towel out of the air. “This isn’t a blip on the radar of what I can do.”

“You should not be proud of that.”

Before Tim could respond the two of them jumped up at the sudden appearance of Alfred's voice. “There will not be any ‘following’ of young Daniel, am I understood?”

“Yes Alfred,” the two replied almost instinctively and Bruce chuckled.

“That goes for you as well, Master Bruce.”

“Of course, Alfred.”

A few hours later at the dining table, while eating breakfast Damian asked, “Is it not troublesome that he trails in dirt into the Manor after you have already cleaned it?”

Dick and Bruce both winced in their seats at the table.

“I can assure you Young Master that the mess Daniel had brought to this household cannot compare to the chaos and destruction that your older brothers and father have brought to this Manor.”

That day Damian was subjected to the stories of the atrocities his eldest brother and Father had conducted in the manor. For some reason, he could not look in his Father's eye for the rest of the day all the while muttering to himself about his Mother’s mentality and tastes.

“Was that really necessary Alfred?” Bruce asked when later that evening he tried to put Damian to bed but he kept looking away.

“Was it necessary to create a swimming pool in the parlor Master Bruce?”

Bruce had no response and bid Alfred goodnight.

Of course, at 3 am Daniel woke up.

Whenever they called his name or when Cass placed a hand on his shoulder while he slept in the closet he wouldn’t wake up. He was dead to the world until, like clockwork, he opened the door out back at 3 am, no matter the weather. They had almost freaked out when they got a notification during a thunderstorm.

But just like the other times an hour later, Daniel was walking back inside, though this time Alfred had a towel for him that Daniel let be placed around his shoulders before making his way back to the closet still dripping wet.

One night Cass was there. She held the door open as it was almost time and sure enough Daniel came into view. He was hunched over, his hair was messy and the white and black mixed together. It reminded her of Jason’s hair after a particularly stressful night. He paused when he came close and his head finally turned to her.

At the gala, Daniel’s eyes were blue. Blue and empty. She’d seen blue eyes before of course, she’d seen them empty too because her family had seen things that would leave any person an empty husk. Except now, his eyes were different. One of them was still blue but the other was like a pale green. This time they didn’t look empty. A part of Cass felt like she needed to look away, to hide from Daniel’s gaze, but a smaller part whispered to ‘let him look’ and that she could look too.

He wasn’t empty anymore, but he was still in pain. Maybe different than before but it was still there. The way he finally stepped forward made her wince internally but she didn’t stop him and Cass would like to think that Daniel took comfort in that. Maybe he did, when he finally stepped outside he let out a small sigh. She watched him go sure that he’d come back as he did before.

__________

In the early morning, the Manor was quiet.

The residents supposedly sleep but Danny had a feeling that even if they were awake, he wouldn't have known. The shadows were particularly lively in this home, they were good at keeping secrets and playing. Already a few of them started to reach out curiously to him. It reminded him of the blob ghosts in Amity.

So far when he visited his shrine, he hadn’t run into anyone before. It was just him and Winnie, the Wayne Manor House Spirit.

She had agreed to the name.

Winnie guided him while seemingly keeping the others away. It felt like a companion leading him the way, he never got lost and always stepped into the grass at the same time each night.

However, there was one morning when she urged him to get up sooner and walk just a bit faster. He wondered why until he saw the one at the door, holding it open. Cass.

She was dressed in an oversized purple hoodie and blue tights that were unusually scrunched up at the bottom. It seemed that she had been waiting for him. Danny didn’t feel his hackles rising as if someone were trying to stop him from visiting his shrine. He didn’t feel that chilling rage bleed into him at the idea of someone standing in his way.

She was holding the door open and staying still, quiet. She didn’t shy away from his gaze. She didn’t try to stop him.

As he walked out into the grass on time part of him suddenly felt warm. A light trickled into his chest at the notion of someone waiting for him and it stayed there even as he later walked back to the Manor. That night he didn’t dream of the cold.

It wasn’t every night, but more often than not he would meet Cass in the silence of the witching hour. Neither ever spoke a word. Neither of them needed to.

Cass wasn’t a ghost or like Winnie who curled around them like a blanket or ruffled through their hair like a bird would to feathers, but she seemed to understand at least that Danny didn’t need words. Maybe she didn't know how much it helped to see someone opening that door and sometimes being the one to let him inside already with a silent wave, but she did it anyway. Danny only had this time in the witching hour awake. He only had enough energy to pull himself away from that closet and walk to the wooden stump, only that much to where the pain was something he could withstand.

So it only felt right to stop just a moment before the exit and to look at her. His head tilted to outside while looking at her dark eyes. After a moment, she smiled and they walked out together.

The two of them were barefoot in the grass while Winnie was winding around Cass’s feet but never bumping into them. It was graceful like a dancer.

That morning Danny sat in the grass with his arm pressed against Cass’s. He once again felt that sensation of warmth and heard her calm breathing that had brought him much-needed relief at that gala.

He treasured those small moments because sometimes when he woke it was not peaceful.

One day he woke up tangled in sheets and curled up tightly with his hands to his chest. It was with a silent scream that he choked down as he looked wide-eyed at the entrance of the closet. Winnie wound around his head, softly caressing his hair and the tips of his ears, but she never went further down to his neck or chest. Something that he was deeply grateful for.

It was early, too early where reality had not thinned and was like a thick blanket still. It didn’t stop him from getting up even if his footing was shakier than usual. He walked down the familiar path toward the kitchen.

He could hear the small sounds of a cup being set on the counter and something being poured out. Cass was inside leaning against the counter, this time wearing a set of threadbare red plaid pajama pants and what looked like an expensive cashmere black sweater. An odd combination but she looked comfortable.

Their eyes met and when Cass looked away it was just because she was getting another cup. She poured in what looked like a creamy brown liquid in the mug before sliding it towards Danny on the counter.

He took a sip.

It was hot chocolate.

There was an ache in his chest as he drank that rest.

Slowly the clock ticked closer to three and Cass took their empty cups to the sink. After washing them and drying her hands she walked over to the door and opened it for him.

This was supposed to be the part where he walked out by himself, except this time he held out a hand. It was shaking. She still took it and she didn’t let go until an hour later when she walked him to his bedroom door and gave his hand one last squeeze.

For the next three mornings, he shared a hot chocolate with Cass, and on the fourth Cass was not there. But Winnie ruffled through his hair playfully and a few hours after their return from visiting the shrine she woke him up. As usual, she led him but this time she changed paths and he found himself passing the dining room.

There was light chatter and the clinking of utensils as three people sat around eating breakfast. From what he could remember it was Mr. Wayne, Damian, and Duke. They hadn’t noticed him yet and when one of them did turn in his direction he ducked back.

When he started to walk back to his room Winnie let him, but for some reason, she seemed oddly pleased.

After the third time she woke him up, Danny had a feeling that Winnie wanted him to see the other residents of the manor with their odd jokes and different stages of bedhead when they were at breakfast. Already Danny started to notice there was no real pattern about which Wayne would be at the table. Though Danny himself never drew near enough to join them, that was until one morning Cass was in the hallway with him.

He didn’t fight it when she softly pulled him towards the table and seat at the table. She easily broke the silence at his sudden arrival with a quick, “Good morning” and kiss on Mr.Wayne’s cheek. Then Alfred had come around and served food, even setting a small plate in front of Danny.

He didn't remember whether or not he ate it.

The next two days Danny was at the breakfast table with them though he never said a word and the conversation floated around him like fog while Winnie flitted from each of the members while Danny watched. No one called him out on his staring if they noticed.

On the third day though, as Danny slowly brought the cup of a fruit juice Alfred had served him towards his mouth, Mr.Wayne suddenly spoke.

“Daniel, I was wonder-”

The cup slipped out of Danny’s hand and while Damian caught it, by the time he was putting it back on the table Danny was already running out of the dining room.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

His chest was screaming at him.

Danny’s legs were not moving fast enough. They were making too much noise as he ran down the hall towards the door, ignoring any sounds behind him.

Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out.

He’s screaming but the only sound he was actually making is that of rapid breaths that are not nearly filling his lungs enough. He only felt relieved when he slammed the door open and he could feel the grass underneath his feet. He kept running.

He couldn’t go to his shrine, he couldn't lead anyone to it. It was too important. Instead, he veered off to the side and into the foliage where the Manor's shadows gathered in a sleepy doze. Underneath and behind branches and leaves he covered his mouth and clutched at his chest.

Not even a few moments later did Cass find him.

Danny just knew it was her with how quiet she was and how Winnie twirled as if she were a dancer at her approach. Still, he stayed quiet even as she was close enough to reach in and grab him. Except Cass didn't pull him out like how Vlad would have. He'd have slammed open the door and shot his hand out grabbing whatever was in reach while Danny would go limp in his hold.

Instead, Cass sat outside the bush, taking the same position she would whenever he took her to his shrine. Then she whistled.

She sounded like a bird.

Danny hadn't seen any birds around but if he closed his eyes he could picture one in the tree above him singing that song. He could picture that he was out there just to hear it instead to escape that horrible screaming in his heart and mind. A simple Mockingbird, a Blue jay, a Robin, maybe a Chickadee. He didn't know, Danny was much better at stars than naming birds.

Eventually, the birdsong was all that he could hear and it dwindled down to just the sound of rustling leaves and the wind. Cass was looking right at him through the leaves but it was a gentle look, like the rays of light from the sun through the canopy. Warm. Soft.

“I don't like that name,” he whispered out, hoping the wind was enough to carry it to her ears.

He heard a small hum in response.

“You are like Tim,” Cass said and it was with a smile. Danny remembered being introduced to the Waynes and he had heard their names from Vlad before. Vlad had been particularly interested in Timothy who held a high position within the company. Danny had been hissed at that he should emulate Timothy who was a good heir.

Except Cass called him Tim, in fact, everyone did from what Danny had heard from his time around the dinner table. They never said the name Timothy.

-safe-safe-chosen name- safe-young one

“Danny.”

Cass nodded in his direction. “Danny,” she repeated after him, and for a moment Danny felt breathless as his core felt…content. A small part felt right again while Cass began to whistle again.

_________

It seemed that Alfred had a shadow. A peculiar twist of events considering his son was the one in the shadows outside the manor, but young Master Danny (as he wished to be called) followed Alfred.

Not that he minded of course. Danny wasn't as quite rambunctious as Dick had been as a young child, though a part of him wondered how Danny would truly be if he hadn't come here under such dire circumstances. This Manor had a habit of housing rather mischievous chaotic children and Alfred was not so foolish to think that the habit would break anytime soon.

He only hoped that in due time Danny would feel comfortable enough to let his mischievous peak through. Which, by the comment Duke had made about Danny’s aura looking better than before, would eventually come to pass. In the meantime, Alfred enjoyed the company as he went on about the various daily tasks. Especially in the kitchen where all but Young Jason were forbidden from entering. Danny looked rather curious and intrigued when Alfred deemed it fitting to explain the dish and the steps he took to make it.

Danny always focused more on Alfred’s hands that never faulted with the knife oddly enough despite years of being in the company of rambunctious individuals.

_________

Danny watched as Winnie wound around Alfred's hand like ribbons. Smoothly and in a pattern that never hesitated as if she had done it for decades and she had. That much he could tell.

Both Winnie and Alfred have loved this family, this home. They cherished those who resided within it and Danny could feel it as he made his way around the Manor while following Alfred who didn't seem to mind. Each step the man took resonated within the wooden floor to the very foundations. He was a part of those foundations. Alfred was much as part of the spirit of this manor as Winnie was.

It was something that Danny felt awe of but also hesitant to be near.

But Danny couldn't help but be drawn to it, to the comfort that the two of them exuded. Especially Winnie who always wanted to show him around. She would nudge him enough that Danny couldn’t just stay in the room or closet all the time sleeping. She wouldn’t have done so if it wasn’t safe.

It helped to see how diligently Alfred worked but that he didn't hold himself so sternly and coldly as Vlad's butler did. Alfred looked at Danny. He actually acknowledged his presence, unlike the other man whose eyes glazed past him like he were nothing every time Danny came across him in Vlad’s castle.

Alfred's voice was soothing too, his accent different from what Danny had heard before but not as formal or detached. Even if Danny didn't respond, Alfred's voice didn't falter when explaining why he had put just a tablespoon of butter in the pan or diced the vegetables instead of sliced.

The whole time Winnie lovingly danced amongst the man’s fingers and the knife he wielded. Danny wished he could have followed Alfred. He was mesmerized by the intricate dance that went on between Alfred and Winnie that never broke. It was soothing and distracted Danny.

Eventually, though Danny couldn’t follow Alfred as he made his way to another part of the manor. His legs would grow slower and slower to move and he’d have to stop. Even if he had his core back, it still felt as if he was pushing through like Vlad would force him to at the many events he was dragged to. He leaned closer and closer to the wall until all he could do was hold himself up against it.

Whenever that happened, Winnie didn’t hesitate to guide him to the nearest chair. This time it was an old but still plush bench. The color of the cushion a red with stitching that swirled in a flowery pattern. It was pretty, that much Danny could tell even if his position of resting his cheek on it didn’t give him the best view. He would have run his finger along the stitching if the idea of moving them didn’t seem so irritating. The sound of small huffs of his breathing was the only thing and his heart beating in his ears.

That hollow ache had lessened. He had his core back. But it didn't take away the pain. It didn't take away the weakness that he had grown so familiar with. Vlad hated it.

‘Get a hold of yourself, Daniel. This futile resistance is ridiculous now stand up.” He'd say and Danny's world would turn as he was pulled up and forced to stay standing. He hated the way Vlad would grab him.

Now it was so easy to shut his eyes and try to forget it all.

Danny wasn’t sure how much longer it was that Winnie brushed against him like a cat and he pushed himself up with a small smile. It was time to find Alfred again.

Slowly, led by Winnie he made his way through the halls though Danny wondered of the odd traces he had been recently coming across in the manor. They made his face twist and his nose itch. A faint echo of a visitor. He didn’t know who they were but Winnie showed no true concern and Alfred seemed fine.

It was a relief when he walked into the kitchen where it was a haven made up of the delicious smell of the next treat Alfred was baking.

Notes:

Everyone is just like ?? wondering why this boi is going out every night meanwhile Alfred is still the GOAT and supportive while not standing for his kids to possibly mess things up. Let Tim be his weird stalker self. Also Bruce was a wild child when he was younger and Alfred does not forget. Damian out here questioning what Talia saw in her 'Beloved'

Danny is slowly waking up but weird ghost stuff going on for real with him. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

How do you like Winnie? she loves everyone in the manor and is very much a protective house spirit for those she had claimed as hers. (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

Finally, they are aware he does not like to be called Daniel which is progress for them...right? Cass is a supportive bestie who steals clothes from everyone else if you didn't notice.

Hmm wonder how Danny is doin'? Still dealing with the physical ramifications of having his core stolen from him. What is he sensing?

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Chapter 3

Notes:

Posted on 11/9/24

So as you have seen there was a change to the chapter numbers. At max (maybe) this part will be 5 chapters...possibly. Still trying to figure that out but fingers crossed. Either way here is the next chapter, hope you enjoy <3

John Constantine, despite all appearances and rumors, was a patient man. However, the fact that they had essentially still learned nothing of Amity Park or Vlad Masters was torturing him. Especially with how Batman looked at him like a misbehaving child whenever he reported as such. Though he was sure that other than himself, Bruce wouldn’t be so keen on giving a child a hold bottle of bourbon.

Already halfway through with the bottle and only feeling a slight buzz, Constantine poured more into his cup and took a sip. “That right there is the witching hour, some say it's right after midnight or between three and four in the mornin’.”

“And what do you say?” Bruce asked.

“I say that the Realms might consider it three considering the kid keeps walking out at that time, remember I ain’t got shit to tell you ‘bout the Realms.”

“Vlad Masters hasn’t revealed anything?”

Constantine gulped down the rest of the cup and took a swig from the bottle. “Masters is a ghoulie bastard that has seemed to have forgotten how to speak English or just wants to be a dick. Even our green alien friend hasn’t been able to communicate with him.” Of course, Constantine had other less polite ways to get information, but the idea of putting that against a creature of the Realms didn’t bode well with him. Messing with what you didn’t understand, especially with things of the supernatural realm rarely ended well. That along with the disgusting corruption that seemed to have swallowed Vlad wasn’t something Constantine wanted to touch with a ten-foot pole. It felt sickening to be in the same room with him even with all the wards and protections they had in place. Constantine had seen terrible sickening things. He had done a few of those things himself but despite all that, none of them compared to looking Vlad Masters in the eyes.

He didn’t know exactly what the bastard had done to the boy, Danny, as Bruce called him. However, it wasn’t hard to guess that it was like soul magic and something that should be left alone in the dark. The effects clung to Vlad like tar. Whenever they met him to ask questions, he looked less and less human.

Luckily, or so they hoped, the same wasn’t with Danny.

He was able to get a better look at the teen when Bruce was walking Constantine out of his office and suddenly stopped because they came across him lying halfway on a bench, though awake. Danny looked like the other Wayne boys, even with his dual-colored eyes and hair. There wasn’t a spot of tar in sight, but still, Constantine remembered those countless eyes that looked at him when he dared to look into Danny. Something Other had been watching, waiting.

Danny looked like he was too.

Though Constantine was more interested in the House spirit. He had taken note of it the few times he had come to the manor. It was awfully fond of the family from what he could tell. A protective sort of spirit and he counted himself lucky he hadn't been rebuffed from entering despite who he was. Many past spirits didn't feel as welcoming which is just another reason he'd prefer to stay in his House of Mysteries. From the looks of it, the House Spirit welcomed Danny too which just added one more difference between him and that bastard Vlad. Still…he could tell that there was something more to Danny, the question was ‘what?’.

___________

Every so often when Danny wandered around the manor as he followed Alfred or let himself simply be led by Winnie, there were…dark spots—murky spots like stains. He’d wrinkle his nose as he walked by them and watched as Winnie stayed away as if wary to get close to them. She was never surprised by their presence though.

One of the only places where he couldn’t find those spots was the kitchen. It was one of the main reasons it was one of his favorite places in the manor. Winnie liked to show him all around the Manor as much as she could. Some days it felt as if she was searching for something.

Any time she felt Danny's questioning of it, she’d simply swirl around his hair ruffling the strands then she’d just begin to lead him somewhere else and he’d try to follow. That was until he was breathing a bit too hard and his feet began to tingle with pins and needles.

Danny was resting on another bench that he was sure had to have been new when suddenly Winnie perked up the approaching footsteps.

Bruce Wayne came down the hall but once he caught sight of Danny, he stopped. Meanwhile, Danny only glanced at him. His eyes were instead drawn to the man behind him.

The source of those murky spots and that faint smell of smoke and sulfur wasn’t a mystery anymore.

Winnie went towards Bruce with only love and even lingered by the man behind him. Except she couldn’t get close as those shades of curses that clung to him like a layer of skin reached out to touch her almost as if to stain her like it did the manor. But still, it was clear she was fond of the visitor.

“Danny, this is John Constantine,” Mr. Wayne said, his face with a smile but Danny could sense it was strained as it had been ever since he had said the name ‘Daniel’. It was always tinged with the bitterness of regret and guilt that made Danny want to wash out his mouth with one of Alfred’s smoothies or Cass's hot chocolates.

Past the curses was a man with blonde hair and a scruffy face in need of a shave. He wore a dirty partially unbuttoned white dress shirt and a tan trench coat that had seen better days. “Good to officially meet you,” Constantine said and his blue eyes stared right at Danny before looking away at the air around him.

“You were there that night.” The words slipped out from Danny in a murmur. Constantine was the one who helped keep Vlad away. There was no question that this was the man in the woods that night whose magic kept Vlad down, subdued, and unable to grab him again. He was covered in curses that left their mark wherever he went. Except Winnie was still fond of Constantine and Mr. Wayne continued to say he was a family friend who helped them out in the past. Mr.Wayne included odd tidbits. His words felt wishy-washy and slowly they blurred and meshed together until they were just a buzz in Danny’s ears.

The Waynes were an interesting family, that much he could tell. Especially to have invited in this cursed magician, but a good one to have such a lovely House Spirit.

Danny pushed himself up from the bench, only swaying slightly once he was on his feet. Both men before him had oddly enough taken a step forward and their hands slightly outreached. Danny frowned as Mr.Wayne moved his mouth, but he couldn’t understand what was being said. Winnie nudged Danny's arm and wound herself down to his wrist and hand before slightly tugging. She somehow always knew when he was tired.

Slowly Danny turned away, leaving the two voices behind him to fade into a faint murmur. The edges of the hallway blurred as his eyes tried to stay open but were unable to fight the lull of sleep and Winnie led him back to the closet.

_____________

Bruce could say that he was happy Danny was awake a bit more often. He didn't talk much and other than the bad reaction to the name ‘Daniel’, he had been doing well.

At least that's what they hoped.

“His aura’s been different,” Duke commented one day. “It used to be barely there but it's been growing and doesn't look as weak as it used to. But it does fluctuate from what I can tell.” he leaned against the bike they were working on in the garage.

Bruce handed him a torque wrench. “Can you see anything else?”

Duke looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think the shadows like him.” He went back to tightening the bolts that had gotten loose.

“Shadows?”

“Yeah,” Duke said and waved his free hand around. “Manors shadows, ya know.”

No, Bruce did not know. Though if he were to really think about it he would be able to think back to moments as a young child where the shadows were a bit livelier than they should have been whenever he was in the midst of sowing chaos and causing trouble. It seemed that his childish imagination had more of a hold in reality than he thought.

Not that he would mention it of course and so, Bruce simply nodded at Duke and handed him the next tool he asked for.

It seemed that be would be learning a bit more about his home now that Danny was staying. Not that it bothered him, Bruce would welcome any information they could get from Danny considering the stonewall they hit with Vlad Masters. He had been violent ever since they dragged him away from Danny. The man was uncooperative as could be, ranting and raving in broken English and a language that Bruce had only heard for a few moments in the forest clearing with Danny. There was powerful magic keeping him contained but there was no denying that something equally or even more powerful had corrupted him.

Several mentions of talking to Danny were brought up in the JLD discussion that they had about the issue. Except, both Constantine and Bruce were hesitant. Constantine because there were so many unknowns with the realms and one wrong move could have severe consequences especially given that Danny had been injured and was still healing. And Bruce given that Danny rarely spoke at all. He was awake a bit more often and there had been progress but just as that moment of using the wrong name could set Danny back and possible even injure him.

Bruce had spoken to the others and they had concluded that they needed to be on the lookout of triggers, especially those that connected back to Vlad. It made sense given Vlad’s possessiveness. Bruce had it painfully pointed out that he was the most similar to Vlad and could be a trigger himself. It may have been why he had reacted so badly to the name Daniel before.

They weren’t strangers to traumatized victims and even their own triggers but usually, when that happened, they knew what was the cause.

Danny had yet to talk at all about what happened. The only inkling that had gotten was that something was taken from him by Vlad, messing with his mind. The JLD debated on whether it was a mind control, soul corruption, or a brainwashing of sorts. It didn’t help that unfortunately there were countless ways that Danny could have ended up in the state they had seen him in at that Gala.

Though Cass did tell them that when he first came to the manor Danny had said he ‘got it back’ which sounded like good news, but there was the additional comment that it caused him pain. It was worrisome when he continued to sleep and was defensive even in his sleep. Cass was the only one who could get close without causing a reaction Then Danny began to wake and eventually even appear at breakfast. But he was still quiet. He still spent most of the day in the closet. The only times he would speak more than a word of greeting was usually to Cass and Alfred, but even that was minimal.

If anything it looked like Danny was distracting himself and possibly getting the layout of the Manor. Everyone knew Danny wandered without a destination in mind. Although, Tim pointed out that it usually ended with wherever Alfred was.

“The young man most likely is aware of my daily routine, a skill none of you seem to have gained unfortunately throughout all these years,” Alfred said when one of the boys mentioned it at breakfast.

“You're a mysterious person, Alfred,” Dick whined, “You never told me where you keep your polishing and cleaning stuff for the chandelier even when I offered to do it for you.”

“And that's how it shall stay.”

Dick's head thumped down to the table and Alfred refilled his cup of juice that was right next to him. “Thank you, Alfred,” Dick mumbled.

“You're welcome.”

Dick turned his head to look at Bruce who was very distinctively taking a sip of his drink. Dick glared at him. Bruce took another sip and was reminded of when Dick was much younger.

“Oh for the love of god, yes Alfred is a great mystery now can someone please hand me that last bread roll?” Tim held out his hand. “Honestly you should be glad that at least Danny knows where Alfred is instead of him all the time in the closet. That and you guys are too paranoid to keep a pattern of where you are for too long.”

Both Bruce and Dick perked up at that.

“Have you been stalking us inside the Manor?”

Tim finally just reached over the table for the bread roll and smoothly used a knife to put his spread on it before taking a bite. “It's like you forget who I am.”

“Tim , are you o-”

“You know it's almost time for Jason to sneak in here for his late lunch,” Tim took another bite, “would be a shame if you didn't know which day.”

Bruce, this time, simply took a bite of his food.

Tim smiled and reached over for another roll. Though he crushed it in his hands when suddenly a voice right by his ear whispered, “Mean brother.”

“Fuckin’ Cass!” Tim yelled, turning to glare at her. He looked back at his hand where the crushed bread roll lay. “...my bread roll,” He said sadly.

As quick as a whip his bread roll disappeared.

“My bread roll!”

Cass smiled as she took a bite, walking over to where Bruce was still silently eating. She quickly leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Bruce smiled. “Good morning Cass.”

Cass hummed. “Good.” She took another bite of the roll and nudged Dick who was smiling before taking a seat next to him.

She didn't waste time gathering her meal on the plate Alfred set out for her. Tim stared the whole time. As she was spreading a jelly on the bread he said, “Ya know that's mine.”

She spread more jelly and took a bite. “Delicious.”

“It tastes better cause it's mine.”

“Thank you,” she took another bite.

“Dude there's a whole bowl of rolls right there,” Dick said, grabbing one for himself.

“It's the principle of the matter,” Tim snapped back. “She's a thief.”

“No, assassin,” she answered.

Dick choked on his bread.

Tim just rolled his eyes. “Was an assassin, now you're just a low-level thief stealing bread. Really cliche of you, Cass. I expected better.”

Bruce sighed as Dick's choking turned into chuckles. Cass didn't look at Dick and stared right into Tim's eyes. “Nerd.”

“Jock,” Tim snarked back.

“Geek.”

“Prim.”

“Bitch.” Cass spread more jelly on the bread roll.

Tim glared at her and leaned forward. “Whore.”

Dicks chuckling turned into outright cackling. He had almost knocked over a glass in the process. Bruce, on the other hand, set down his fork. “Seriously.” He raised an eyebrow at Tim and Cass. Rarely were their mornings quiet but he hadn't exactly been expecting this.

Cass twirled the jelly knife in her hand before smiling serenely at Tim. “Slut.”

Tim then attempted to launch himself across the table, almost upending the bowl of rolls. Of course, Cass was ready for him and tackled him out from doing so. They both knew how Alfred felt about feet and scuffles on the table.

The floor, however, was fair game.

They rolled around for a minute before Tim managed to stop while in a mount. It only lasted for a moment before Cass turned, grabbed one of his wrists, brought up her legs across his chest, and pushed down. Tim's back fell to the ground while her calves pressed down on his neck and chest. His left arm stuck in her grasp and he could tell Cass had his thumb facing the ceiling.

Dick's face poked into Tim's field of vision. He whistled. “Damn classic arm bar.”

Tim frowned. “Fuck off.”

“Languaaaage,” Cass sang in a sing-song voice.

Tim bucked up and the two of them rolled again, knocking into Dick who yelped as he tripped. They kept rolling as Bruce stared at them. The rest of his breakfast was forgotten as he watched the squabble. He already knew that Alfred would not come to pick up the plates. He had a strict policy that if there was any sort of squabble such as this, then they were perfectly capable of cleaning up after themselves. Which they were but everyone never looked forward to the comments at the next meal in which Alfred talked about the proper way to clean while giving them a disapproving look seeing as they failed to meet his standards. Fair to say it was a good deterrent for mealtime fights, but eventually their streak would come to an end.

Someone's leg flailed out knocking into a chair that promptly fell and Bruce winced at the sound.

Honestly, a week was not a nearly long enough streak.

Suddenly there was another presence and Bruce’s eyes strayed from the fight.

Danny was standing near the entrance to the room. His dark circles were as prominent as ever but his eyes seemed a bit brighter than usual. Bruce would take it as a good sign seeing as he couldn't get a view of the teen’s ‘aura’.

Danny was watching the fight before his eyes drifted around the dining room. They had a tendency to do that from what Bruce noted the few times he came across Danny observing a room. His blue and pale green eyes would shift from one item to the next. At times they shifted to whichever person was in the room and then around that person. Alfred had mentioned that Danny watched his hands most of the time, which made sense as Danny liked to watch the man cook.

Danny was silent compared to the ruckus of the fight as he moved.

“Good morning Danny,” Bruce said softly when Danny had come closer passing him by.

Danny's eyes slowly drifted from Bruce's shoulder to his eyes. “Mornin’.” His voice was soft and slightly raspy, most likely from a combination of sleep and lack of speaking. Either way, Bruce smiled at the sound of it.

A screech drew Bruce's attention.

“-ucking toe!” Someone whined while two others laughed. Bruce huffed a breath of amusement seeing as no one was seriously injured. When he turned back though, Danny was gone from the dining room.

“Just put an icepack on it if it hurts that bad, you big baby.”

“Oh fuck you.”

Then there was another screech and the fight continued.

__________

Danny wasn't so sure why Winnie was amused with the bread roll he held, but he didn't feel inclined to question her. She wasn't worried in the dining room either. Not that she needed to, it was obvious that they were just brawling.

She swirled happily over the tangle of limbs on the floor. Then Winnie floated over to Mr.Wayne's shoulders, at first rolling on them before draping down like a blanket. If she could, Winnie would probably be tucking Mr.Wayne in bed herself. That and almost everyone else in the Manor. She was very adamant that they get their sleep. Though, none of them could witness her persistence as Danny did.

He didn't see anyone else being gently pulled or pushed toward their room to sleep. Danny still had the bad habit of forgetting that he didn't have to push through the heaviness of his limbs or drooping eyes anymore. He could actually rest in the Wayne Manor. Winnie was intent on never letting him forget it.

He finished the rest of the bread roll as Winnie shifted directions. It was to the library. There was a comfy armchair by a window, sometimes a cat would already be lounging on the back of the chair.

They had a silent agreement to share the chair.

He didn't know how long it was until he woke up again. The cat had spread out, partially onto him. Danny didn't mind though, it was a part of their agreement seeing as they were still sharing the chair. Anyway, Danny was more interested in the other person in the room.

It was the youngest one of the Waynes. Damian.

Danny would usually catch sight of Damian at breakfast. He always sat in the same seat compared to the others who switched and sometimes shoved each other to get to a seat. Damian looked more serious than the others too. His words were harsher than the little jokes and jibes that Danny heard snippets of.

Except, Winnie still curled into his side so gently and softly. His words didn’t feel as sharp as they sounded and usually were met with smiles or laughter. Cass would hum lightly when she greeted Damian and Alfred would serve slightly altered dishes to Damian that reminded him of Sam. Damian’s little tuts and use of proper vocabulary that wasn’t typical of those his age would mix in with the conversation and sounds of others that soon blended together softly as Danny’s eyes felt heavier and heavier.

Danny wondered if maybe that was why Winnie started to lead him to the library instead of right back to his room. It had only taken barely two visits that he saw Damian come to the library too. Only once taking a moment to look at Danny before he just tutted and went to his own spot in the library.

After that, Damian barely gave a hum when he saw Danny in the armchair again with the cat.

Every day Damian came to the library to sketch. At least, that’s what it looked like from the sketchpad Damian carried and the scrawling of a pencil that would lull Danny back to sleep. He had yet to catch a glimpse of whatever Damian could have possibly been drawing and Damian had yet to offer to show him. Probably because Danny would fall asleep and when he woke, he was alone again.

That and Danny didn’t want to disturb Winnie who liked to curl by Damian side like the cat with Danny in the armchair. He thought it would be best to let her rest too and Damian never did tell Danny to get out.

Notes:

Out stinky friend was John Constantine the Laughing Magician who unfortunately has a cruse problem. A weird family friend of the Wayne's according to Danny but if Winnie at least approves than he's cool. Though, someone really should help the dude out with the curses.

Johnny boi over here knows something weird is going on with Danny but Danny is not giving anyone answers soon. and yes they were ignored lmao

As you can see Danny is still dealing with exhaustion/pain and it will likely not go away anytime soon. He is getting a bit better but like boi is still going thru it. Someone commented about this being a healing fic and tbh you would be correct. its where the writing has taken me and I'm along for the ride.

Duke just dropping casual info on Bruce like 'yeah shadows obvi' and Bruce is just nonchalantly not denying that he DID not know about the shadows. Typical sibling chaos at breakfast ya know. as normal as it can get with trained vigilantes and so on. Bruce is a tired dad. Danny's just like 'yeah brawling' normal stuff for him.

Winnie loves her people and is slowly having the others accept Danny as a part of their people in her own way.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Chapter 4

Notes:

Posted 6/29/25

Hey yall, so it's been quite a minute. Lots have happened. Got sick several times again, a couple of times it was real bad. Competed in a tournament, so there was training for that. AC broke. Dryer shorted out a lil bit. Questioning my sanity at work. Questioning my future and what job i should or should not get, including joining the military. Then boom my sibling died out nowhere a little over a month ago soooo yeahhhh, hafta say not expecting that at all and holy shit it fucks you up. And before of dealing with that, there's a house renovation going on and medical stuff for our senior dog. essentially shit is wack and the only minimal form of control I can get is writing and whatnot. this chapter has been in the works for a whiiiile, but huzzah i did it.

Anyways for all that is good in the world, take care of yourselves, watch out when you're driving and make sure you spend time with your loved ones.

Enjoy the chapter folks.

Besides Alfred, Jason was the only other person allowed in the kitchen. A feat he was rather proud of and rightfully deserved. Especially, when one considers the utter chaos and destruction his family has wrought on those beautiful countertops and top-of-the-line ovens. This was something entirely Jason’s. Even when the family went through rough patches and the urge to just scream and fight pulled at him, Jason was always allowed in the kitchen.

Jason never got rid of his sneaking in the dead of night ways, which explained why he was gathering his ingredients at 4:13 in the morning unbeknownst to anyone else in the house, except maybe Tim (the damn stalker).

“No one’s allowed to cook here.”

It was only because of the years of experience and training Jason had under his belt that he resisted throwing a pepper at the sudden voice. He turned around. “All except me, kid,” Jason said when he was met with the sight of one Daniel ‘Danny’ Masters.

The kid’s hair was a mess. Jason’s eyes lingered on the white sprinkled amongst the black. One of Danny’s eyes was a pale green while the other was blue. It was oddly familiar, and Jason couldn’t place it. He had only seen Danny once at the gala before any of that ‘magic shit’ happened. But looking at Danny felt like looking at an odd funhouse mirror, with the similarities and differences to what Jason was used to seeing whenever he looked in the mirror.

The white hair.

A green eye.

Danny was skinny too, his clothes were slightly too big, and even standing, Danny was fairly shorter than him. Alfred most likely already had a plan to fatten Danny up. He’d done the same for Jason when he first came to the Manor.

Again, a warped funhouse mirror.

“You’re Jason,” Danny stated rather than questioned. Which was good. Jason hoped that Danny had at least heard about him.

Danny’s eyes drifted around Jason’s shoulders and head before finally meeting his eyes. Not exactly surprising, apparently their guest had wandering eyes and feet, it seemed. The others were particularly worried about it from the way they kept bringing it up in the group chat that Jason could never escape. They probably spoke more about it in person, but Jason hadn’t been at the manor for a while now.

A lot of things had been popping up in Crime Alley, and every time he ventured closer to its edge, Jason had a sick feeling in his stomach. An unsettling sensation would prick at his skin at the idea of leaving. That and he could admit he was worried about how he’d be if he were to see Danny. Although… he was curious to know what Danny heard about him. Maybe a little about what he thought about him, too.

Jason smirked at Danny and leaned on the counter towards him. “The one and only. Did the whole dying thing like they said in the papers. Got myself a bit of white like you for my troubles.” He gestured to Danny’s head with the pepper.

Danny’s face didn’t even flicker with disbelief or a semblance of a laugh. Instead, those eyes stared. They felt like they were trying to dig under his skin and find out what he was hiding. Jason wasn’t unfamiliar with those types of looks, but the question Danny asked was definitely unexpected.

“Grave?”

Jason broke out into laughter.

Ever since digging himself out, no one had really talked about it. Jason didn’t like coffins or being enclosed, but the grave itself didn’t bother him. It was just something no one asked about or barely mentioned. Which, now that he thought about it, people seemed to forget about his grave. How rude.

His laugh petered out, but Jason smiled. “Got myself one,” he said, and surprisingly, there was a bit of warmth in his chest once he said the words out loud. He couldn’t help but say more. “A good stone by a tree with a nice view, you should go ahead and visit it to see for yourself if you’d like.” He added the last part good-naturedly, almost like a joke, but he knew better. Someone could just take it as a joke, but Jason was curious about how Danny would react. Maybe he’d laugh and try to shift the conversation. Maybe he’d scold him for making such a joke and call him a liar (a few rich folk had made the mistake of that at a gala and paid dearly for it). Maybe Danny would grimace and realize that he could get better company from the others in the manor. They never liked it when Jason joked about his death. Bruce especially. It definitely threw people off when they heard it in passing.

Except, Danny smiled.

It was a soft one. There weren’t even any teeth to be seen, but it stirred the warmth in Jason’s chest, and he felt relief.

Happy. It was undeniable that Danny looked happy, as if he had been given a gift. Something precious. Jason couldn’t describe the look on his face as anything else. “I will,” Danny said, and the words were utterly sincere. After all the years of practice and learning how to get the truth out of what he heard, Jason could only hear pure sincerity.

There was no doubt that Danny was going to visit his grave.

Jason rubbed at his chest.

For a long time now, any mention of his grave was met with uncomfortable faces and stilted silence. But here was Danny smiling at him with eyes that looked brighter and more alive than he expected. He sat there and didn’t do anything else as Jason eventually moved (on autopilot) and grabbed the rest of the ingredients to cook. He diced the vegetables, heated up a pan, and did all the other steps that he barely had to think about while Danny just watched from his spot on the stool he chose to sit on. At one point, Danny rested his head against his hand, leaning on the counter.

It was quiet.

Usually, when Jason snuck into the Manor to cook a few meals and leave, he was on guard about who was in that day. Especially about that little shit Tim (stalker that he was), who could predit when he’d come around even if Jason switched up his schedule. But this time, there wasn't tension in his shoulders. The silence wasn't stilted. Danny’s gaze wasn’t cutting, and the warmth in Jason’s chest wasn’t burning.

When Jason finished, he grabbed two bowls from a cabinet and plated the food. Danny had been known to eat now. Except when he turned around, Danny was asleep. His hair was splayed out, his head resting on his arm, and he breathed slowly. It was soothing. A stark different from how Jason felt when he saw Vlad at the gala. The emptiness of Danny and the possessiveness of Vlad had been sickening. Jason still felt sick if he thought about what Vlad had done to a kid Jason barely knew.

Light footsteps approached, and Jason sighed in relief when Alfred came into view.

“Ah, Young Manster Jason,” Alfred said and simply smiled when he saw their sleeping guest. “I see you’ve met young Danny.”

“Yeah, he-uh fell asleep while I was cooking.”

“Hmm. It won’t be good for him to stay there for too long.”

Jason placed the bowl on the counter. “Want me to wake him?”

Alfred shook his head. “No, let me.” Yet Alfred made no move to get closer and instead softly cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Danny,” he said in a soft voice reminiscent of how he used to speak to Jason whenever he had a panic attack.

At those words, Danny’s calm, slow breathing stuttered. Suddenly, there was an almost violent intake of breath. Danny’s eyes sprang open, and his head shot up as he quickly looked around. His knuckles were white from how tightly he gripped the edge of the counter.

Alfred and Jason didn’t move an inch. Alfred only spoke after they watched the tension ease from Danny’s shoulders, and he let out a breath.

“Apologies to wake you, but I believe it would be more comfortable to sleep on bedding rather than marble.”

Danny looked at Alfred for a moment before his eyes drifted to the right of Alfred’s head. He nodded. When he stepped off the stool, he faltered and had to lean against the counter to take a breath. A few seconds later, he pushed away and walked out of the kitchen.

He didn’t spare a glance towards either of them.

Then, without saying anything, Alfred began to clean up the litter that Jason had yet to get to. Alfred just smiled when another pair of hands started to clean up with only slight grumbling that ‘You didn’t have to, I had it’. The two of them cleaned with ease with each other, and it wasn’t until the last item was put away that Alfred turned to Jason. “It seems the young lad is still healing. He wakes up for a short time before returning to rest throughout the day. And there are moments when he stumbles just as you saw now.”

Jason sighed. “What’s the old man done about it?”

Alfred had a slight frown on his face, or as close as Jason could think he did after years of trying to decipher his expressions. “...There is much that is unknown, and Danny is in a delicate state. I gather you are aware of the incident regarding his name.” Jason nodded in response, remembering the conference phone call he had been subjected to. Alfred continued. “They are trying to make note of what triggers Danny may have, but you know how complex that can be.”

Jason hated that Alfred was right.

It was that thought that kept him up. He kept going over in his head what it was that Bruce, Dick, and even Alfred had done that helped Jason actually trust them. But even then, they had setbacks. It was fucking hard. There was no other way to explain it and that didn’t even include weird magic shit (that came way later for Jason, but that was besides the point).

A couple hours later, Jason had the pleasure of calling Dick who had yet to go to sleep at all or maybe had too much coffee with how chipper he was on the phone when he picked up.

“Little Wing!”

Jason was quick to cut to the chase. “Finally met the kid, seems to already be cooler than you, considering he’s allowed in the kitchen.” He knew that Dick would get annoyed by the clipped summary.

“Wait, you met Danny!” Dick exclaimed. “What did you think? At what time did you see him? Wait, wait-when were you at the manor? Did Tim know? He probably did, the little shi-”

“Jesus, let a guy answer before you go ranting, and of course, Tim knew. He fucking called me when I was gonna leave. Bastard wanted a portion.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“Ask him yourself,” Jason replied with a smirk. He knew that Tim would be tight-lipped, especially about any food or drink. Especially since the others would steal it. That and everyone always wanted a bite of what Jason cooked; he was just that good.

“Oh come on Jason, you know he do-”

“Bla bla bla,” Jason cut him off. “You wouldn’t even be able to appreciate the taste with all the weird shit you like to try, that and your crime of a drink when you do an all nighter.”

“Dude, if it works, why diss it? Anyways stop changing the topic and answer the questions I already asked, you dick.”

“But you’re dick.”

“Oh for fucksa-”

Jason couldn’t resist the smile on his face when, after he hung up his phone instantly started ringing. He already knew where this conversation was going and he had to admit, he enjoyed it. Messing with Dick always put him in a good mood and he knew that Dick wasn’t truly mad. It’d take both of their minds off troubling thoughts for a while, and Jason thought they could afford to be a little selfish this once.

He picked up the phone.

 

____________

 

Visits to Wayne Manor were becoming more common. Both from Jason (which the others were told to specifically not point out unless they wanted them to stop) and from John Constantine. Though visits from Constantine were more likely due to Bruce harassing him, rather than him paying a friendly visit to the family. And while the two did discuss other things, all conversations usually ended surrounding the topic of Vlad Masters and Danny.

“Duke’s mentioned that his aura has improved. He’s awake more but still rests often.” Bruce said, gesturing his head towards the closet that Danny still kept sleeping in.

Constantine nodded. “Makes sense. Whatever the ghoulie bastard did clearly took a lot of energy, and there’s bound to be damage.” The closet itself showed signs that the House Spirit was focusing more of its energy there than would normally be expected. There were also signs of the magic mojo Constantine had begun to connect to Danny and whatever was going on with him. Even looking at the closet for too long had him feeling like there was a pair of unseen eyes staring at him from somewhere.

It was at times like those that Constantine wished they had more information about the Realms. From the way Bruce kept staring at him, he was sure the man wanted more information, too.

“Have you gotten any more info-”

Constantine was saved by Bruce’s phone ringing, and from the grimace on his face, it was related to the company. A friendly reminder that he was, in fact, in charge of Wayne Industries. Though Constantine could have sworn he’d seen Tim handling paperwork before. He was never sure whether or not Tim had permission. Either way, Constantine was more than happy to venture off on his own when Bruce ended up having to move to his office.

It was interesting to see the traces of the House Spirit, given that this one was oddly agreeable with him. Constantine ended up in one of the impressive libraries in the Manor (he knew they had more because he’d snooped before and found two others another day). Danny was asleep, curled up with a cat on an armchair, while Damian was on a floor cushion with a drawing pad. All of them looked comfortable. Damian didn’t even bother to look up, no doubt aware of his presence./p>

“Watcha sketching?”

Damian snapped the book closed and glared. “Is Father aware you’re wandering?”

Constantine smiled. “He’d be a fool if he thought I wouldn’t.”

“Tt. He may be remiss in the company he keeps.” Damian kept glaring at him, and Constantine just chuckled.

Eyes were on him again.

Two pairs in particular. One feline and the other dual-colored. Both were unblinking. It was at that moment that Constantine realized that Danny and Alfred the cat were oddly matching in the color scheme of black and white.

“Lunch is being prepared. Alfred would be disappointed if you missed it,” Damian said clearly to Danny before he gathered his things and left without so much of a goodbye to Constantine.

Alfred the cat stretched, rubbing its back under Danny’s chin before leaping off the seat and walking towards the exit. Funnily enough, rubbing against Constantine’s legs affectionately before making its way down the hall. Meanwhile, Danny was still watching him. His eyes were slightly more closed than before, his head now leaning against the chair. His hair squished between the two.

“Right…well, I’ll be off.”

Danny gave a small hum in response, and Constantine took that as the cue for him to go and find Bruce.

In the end, Bruce is the one who found him outside smoking. “Alfred doesn’t like you smoking here.”

“Better out here than in your parlor, don’t you think?”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“What? He’s gonna shoot me or something?”

Bruce just lifted an eyebrow at him. Something akin to what Constantine could only describe as a smirk on his face. “He's a good shot.”

Contained huffed and put out his cigarette. “Alright, fine. Anyways, I know you want to tell me about something, or you’d have driven me off by now.”

At that, Bruce nodded and walked off to the side, and Constantine begrudgingly followed. Luckily, he wasn’t quiet for long, and Bruce mentioned that apparently, Danny had built a shrine of sorts.

“I know that he’s had it there since the time he went out with Alfred after initially waking up. But Cass is the one who told me about it. She’s the only one who's seen it when Danny goes early in the morning.”

“Makes sense. Typically, you need an invitation to see those or some sort of permission. I’d be interested in seeing it, that’s for sure.”

“You have my permission,” Bruce said haltingly.

Constantine laughed and patted Bruce’s shoulder. “Cute. But has to be from the kiddie himself. And your manor, well, she wouldn’t want me to go without explicit permission from him. She likes him enough, that’s for sure.”

“She…my manor,” Bruce stated, though it sounded more like a question he wouldn’t ask.

“Yes. The House Spirit.” Constantine quirked an eyebrow at him. “With a home as old as yours, it's obvious she’d have an opinion about visitors. She’s mighty fond of the kid, that and you lot obviously. House Spirits tend to do that, you know.”

Bruce stared. His eyes were clear and piercing. For some reason, it didn’t prick at Constantine’s senses like it did before. Maybe he was just getting used to it.

Bruce made some sort of grunt before he walked away.

“Agh, weird bastard,” Constantine mumbled and rubbed at his head. The stupid headache and damned ringing in his ear had yet to go away from the previous night’s activities. An unfortunate common occurrence. Though…it was about time for lunch, and he could use something to eat. Maybe by then his head wouldn’t be so bothersome.

Of course, at some point, Constantine managed to get a bit lost on the way to some good cooking.

Even the House of Mysteries wasn’t so ridiculously big as the Manor was. Honestly, just how excessively rich were the Waynes again? If Constantine had that much money, maybe he could afford to get some of that good liquor and some of those ancient texts he’d been eyeing for a few months. That or order delivery, considering that the House of Mysteries liked to help themselves with no regard for his actual need for food. Although, maybe that wouldn’t be the best, if anything, he’d get black listed from being delivered to considering all the weird shi-

“Shit!” Constantine hissed when he turned down a hall, only to have Danny standing right in front of him. Again with unblinking eyes. This time, he was looking to the left of Constantine's head before finally looking at him in the face. Before again, Danny’s eyes drifted around him.

Just what was he looking at? What drew his eyes away? Maybe the House spirit? Though Constantine thought he’d be able to se-

“Danny!” A voice cried and the two of them turned to see that Dick was sticking his head out of a doorway down the hall. “Food’s ready, Damian’s about to fight Jason if you don’t show up soon and distract him or well-just show up.”

Danny gave a slight nod before walking towards Dick.

Dick looked up “Oh Constantine, you can come too, I think Alfred already had another plate set up for you, Bruce kind of annoyed him the other day so you don’t have to leave yet.”

“Wasn’t planning too,” and Constantine hurried to follow Dick before he got lost again. While Dick and Constantine had purposeful steps, Danny at times seemed to stumble.

It might be a symptom or something he was still healing from. If anyone needed food, it’d be this kid. Constantine's curiosity was begging for him to ask questions and try to take a closer look at Danny, but he reigned it in. It wasn’t the time, and from the way that Bruce scowled when Constantine sat at the table, he’d get pushback.

That and Constantine would really rather eat some of the delicious-looking food that was served.

Lunch was surprisingly normal with the Waynes. There was a normal amount of conversation, and any vigilante talk was met with a quite stern look from Alfred. At one point Tim leaned over to Constantine and whispered, “Alfred says we need to learn how to talk about other shit and not just bat shit.”

Constantine was about to reply when suddenly he heard Danny ask Jason a question.

“Do you like flowers?”

It was soft spoken, and clearly a few of the others perked up when they heard Danny speak. Jason simply answered before taking another bite of food. It wasn’t even a few seconds later when Danny asked another question.

From the looks around the table, this was something rather new.

They were simple questions. They were about likes and dislikes. But Constantine noted something about the words and an energy building up in the air. Barely even noticeable, but still it was there. There was a weight behind the words Danny spoke. His eyes were even a bit brighter for a few moments when Jason answered a question with a smile or a laugh.

When it clicked for Constantine, he couldn't help but feel a bit excited and leaned forward towards Danny. “Visiting a grave are ya?” he asked, and the table went silent.

Danny looked at him and, to Constantine’s delight, slowly smiled. It was small and tired but genuine. The House Spirit seemed to whirl around Danny before even coming around Constantine like a soft breeze rather than with anger.

“Yes,” Danny said, and the energy in the air grew.

Constantine was too focused on Danny to hear who was the one who asked the question: “Who’s?”

Before anyone could cut in, Jason smugly answered, “Mine, obviously.” He looked up at them with a smirk before motioning to Danny. “He so kindly asked me about my grave, and well, I said he could visit. How could I resist not offering? I like to feel special sometimes, ya know. Be nice to get flowers or something.”

A few of the others’ faces winced.

“Couldn't it just be given to you in person?” Damian hesitantly asked.

There was another ripple in the air, unease. The energy that was there before soured. A slight sheen to Jason’s eyes appeared, and there was a dimming to Danny’s. The two were more connected than the others realized, with the Realms and Jason dying and all. Maybe Jason himself didn’t understand, but he certainly felt something. It meant something, and by god, Constantine wasn’t going to let this ridiculous family fuck it up.

“Doesn't have the same meaning, kiddie,” Constantine told Damian. “There’s a real difference in more ways than you think. It might actually be healthy for Skunk over here.” He gestured to Jason.

“Oh fuck you John,” Jason snarked.

Constantine shrugged and took a drink. “You're a bit too young for me.” Then, as Jason choked in horror, Constantine felt the energy return to the light feeling from before and the return of ease that the House Spirit exuded.

Later that afternoon, his headache had indeed subsided, and by the time he left the manor in relatively good spirits, the ringing in his ear was no more.

 

____________

 

Winnie was positively preening, that much Danny could tell. She was ever so pleased with the visits from Constantine, even with his curses, and Jason. Whenever they came by, Danny was bound to come across them due to Winnie’s nudging and prodding. Not that Danny minded.

It gave him a chance to get a closer look at the curses that followed Constantine.

They stuck to the man, and other than occasionally reaching out to Winnie or leaving a temporary stain in the Manor, they didn’t do anything else. Whatever their purpose, it was solely focused on John Constantine (though everyone always seemed to call him Constantine). The man himself didn’t actually show any acknowledgment of the curses. Danny wasn’t sure if he knew about them or just ignored them. After all, people could be talented at hiding things.

It was just one of those things. Other than that, Winnie kept leading Danny to Jason, who had a tendency to be in the kitchen.

Danny had to say that Jason was in the kitchen at odd times, but it worked out. It gave him the opportunity to ask more questions.

“What’s your favorite food?” Danny asked while the clock was showing the time 12:22 am. He eyed the way Jason mixed ingredients in a bowl and, without barely looking, took out a pan and put it to heat on the stove. Danny had come in fifteen minutes earlier because of Winnie, and Jason had just taken out some things Alfred had left for him in the fridge; he hadn’t spoken until then.

“A good chili dog,” Jason replied, “but a pot roast is a close second, especially if there’s a fresh bread roll.”

Danny sipped his half-finished smoothie Alfred had given him earlier in the day, along with the small cut-up sandwiches that Winnie was trying to get him to eat. He’d taken a few bites, but apparently, that wasn’t enough to satisfy the House Spirit, from how she kept nudging his fingers closer to the plate. He twiddled his fingers in response, and Winnie poked his palm before going over to Jason as he dumped the bowl’s contents into the pan.

“Did I hear bread rolls?” A head peeked through the doorway, and Jason spun around quickly. A towel wrung in his hands, ready to flick out like a whip.

“Scram, Timbo!” He hissed. “Go the fuck to sleep!”

Tim ducked down but mumbled something back at Jason with a smirk. The next second later he was running as Jason chased after him. Danny listened as there was the thudding of feet and a few more lighthearted yells. There was laughter and a big thud before more laughter and other voices. The sounds slowly drifted away, bobbing up and down in the air, and Danny let his head rest against the cool counter. Winnie brushed over his hands like the leaves of a willow tree hanging in the wind.

It didn’t take more than a moment for him to fall asleep again.

The next few days followed the same pattern. More midnight snacks. More questions. More answers. And the occasional chase around.

Then came one day when Danny woke up by himself with no prompting from Winnie, just as the sun had risen above the horizon. He knew today was the day.

Everything was easily prepared, and Danny barely faltered with a newfound sense of energy since he woke up. He was grateful for it. It was going as it should be; Cass had even let him use a Wonder Woman hoodie the night before. Jason liked Wonder Woman.

Outside was the perfect weather, and his legs didn’t feel weak as usual. He’d safely be able to make it to his destination.

There was the crunch of gravel, and Danny paused when he passed by a familiar tan trench coat.

Constantine eyed the small basket Danny held in his hands. “Picnic?”

“A Grave,” Danny responded with ease. He remembered the lunch Constantine had joined them for. This man was connected to magic and knew of Death. He knew the meaning and importance of it. Then there was the way Winnie fluttered around his coat, almost trying to get closer underneath it, but couldn’t because of the curses (though a minor from before had disappeared and had yet to return). Overall, Danny knew that Constantine would not stop him.

“Ah,” Constantine sighed in realization. “Today’s the day, right?” Now he openly looked at the basket and the aura enveloping it rippled at the man’s gaze. “A fine collection you go there, very nice,” he said, and Danny couldn’t help but preen just the slightest at the praise. Constantine bowed his head with a smile. “Safe visitation, and may you cherish your time with them.”

At that, there was a small warmth within Danny, and he nodded before taking his next step forward. His feet felt even more sure of themselves as he made his way. Meanwhile, Winnie slowly wound her way around his arm before resting in the basket Alfred had given them. The perfect companion.

Danny found that Jason was right in his description.

A strong headstone near a tree. It was pretty. The wind rustled the leaves, casting a dappling of sunlight on the stone. The grass was healthy, and the weather was perfect.

A good day to visit a grave.

Danny looked down at the headstone and the name etched in stone, and he smiled softly.

“Hello Jason.”

 

____________

 

When Danny next went to visit his shrine, he didn’t meet anyone at the door. Winnie wasn’t the one who guided him outside. Instead, she stayed back, lovingly tracing the bridge of his nose and fingertips before he set foot onto the cool grass. His footsteps the whole way didn’t make a single sound, and when they stopped, Danny watched a white flame dance in nonexistent wind for hours before he closed his eyes.

At some point, he opened them.

It was white.

A white sky and ground, a truly icy visage. Snow and silent wind surrounded him in an achingly familiar way.

The Far Frozen.

Through the storm, there was a hint of the green sky.

Danny wasn't a stranger to this place, even though it had been far too long since he had last been able to visit. So he stood there and waited. Snow fell on him and his too-long hair. His eyes were only halfway open enough to see the black and white that was himself, but he didn't bother to take a closer look. Danny didn’t want to know what image he made.

Eventually, there was movement nearby. Something emerged from the frozen white.

There was a hint of blue, royal, and another of light ice and bone. Golden eyes.

“My friend!”

Suddenly, Danny was enveloped in Frostbite’s safe hold. He was hidden away in the soft white fur of a friend who was strong and gentle. There was no hint of possession emanating from Frostbite. Claws didn’t dig into Danny’s skin.

When Frostbite pulled back, a paw gently cupped Danny’s cheek. It caressed his skin softly, and Danny knew he could pull away at any moment with no threat of repercussion. Frostbite’s eyes were so different from Vlad’s. They were full of glee and relief to see him. He could see the underlying concern and worry as he kept staring.

Then there was a growl, though no threat to him. It was the cracking of ice and the scream of a blizzard. But the pain it could bring would never touch him. Danny realized, Frostbite knew what was done. And that’s enough. It has to be enough, right?

When Danny fell forward, he grabbed at the fur that caught him tightly. Frostbite didn’t pull away. Instead, he held him close and surrounded him in protection and love. It was achingly familiar yet different. It was cold and warm, and Danny couldn’t help but gasp at the feeling. Finally daring to make a sound.

Snowflakes floated in the air as the wind of the storm around them froze.

And…Danny cried.

He let his face burn as tears trailed down his face and fell to the snow below. He let himself feel just the smallest sliver of grief that had crept through the cracks and didn’t try to hold it back.

____________

 

Eventually, the blizzard began to move again. The winds didn’t pull at Frostbite as he carefully held his friend, the Great One, a child, against his chest. Even if they had, Frostbite would have never dared to let go. Instead, he carefully picked up the five frozen tears that looked like otherworldly jewels from the snow.

 

____________

 

In Wayne Manor, the alarm never sounded again, signaling when Danny usually returned indoors from his early morning outings. There was no sign of his returning past the witching hour.

They had just begun searching when, without a word, Bruce began to walk towards Danny’s room. Quickly, the others followed. Their steps were carefully placed and measured, silent as they would have been on the rooftops late in the night.

Bruce was the first one to enter the room, and as usual, the bed was empty. But he stepped to the side and towards the closet. A small push to the door revealed that somehow, Danny did indeed make his way back inside. He was curled up asleep on the comforters with snow littering the floor and his hair. How he got back inside without any sign, and how snow accompanied him, they didn’t know.

But most interestingly were his ears, previously bare, now adorned with five glowing jewels.

Notes:

Danny finally got to meet Jason! There's so many different ways they have first interactions in other fics so I had a fun time figuring out how I wanted it to go in here. I decided on a more soft/chill vibes. An interaction that would be comforting for both of them.

Alfred is still the MVP

More visits and interactions from Constantine. I think him visiting the manor is in line given the circumstances and how Bruce is. I enjoy having Constantine be around, especially near Danny too so this definitely won't be the last you see of him.

Alrighty peeps, this is the second part done that is supposed to encompass this moment of Danny in the manor and one step closer to healing and bonding with the wayne family. A big turning point is the visit to Jason’s grave and what followed thereafter. Purposely not giving a ton of info on that for the vibes, so feel free to theorize about meanings and so on, it fun to see what yall think

This au very much has turned into a hurt/comfort and healing fic and I am along for the ride.

I hope you enjoyed this last chapter of Part 2!

I do have a 3rd part in the works so stay tuned for that :p

**fyi please don't comment that something is abandoned when it explicitly states that it is not. I've deleted some of those comments and whatnot, but they are discouraging.**

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Empty Spaces