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After many years Danny has finally retired — sure he had to leave everything he loved and that was familiar to him behind for it, but it was worth it. He had a small little house that was his own, he would water his plants every morning and make small talk with his neighbors. Everything was fine.
Everything turns not so fine, when there’s a sudden knock on his door. Expecting it to be one of his neighbors — for example needing eggs or flour (a neighbor’s kid had needed eggs to bake one of her parents a cake and Danny had been more than willing to spare the few she needed) — he opens the door without a second thought.
Only to almost immediately want to close it again.
Because that’s the Justice League standing in front of his door. And that can mean nothing good.
Before Danny can slam the door closed, Superman‘s shoe slides in between the door frame, blocking his escape. The smile the man shoots him is probably meant to be reassuring, but the only thing Danny feels is dread.
To most civilians the Justice League is seen as a beacon of hope — but to Danny? He knows the bitter truth. When he needed them the most they turned his back on him before chasing him across half the globe calling him a villain without even hearing his side of the story. They handed him over the GIW for Ancient’s Sake. He would have died if it weren’t for Tucker and Sam. (He may not have scars to show for it but he can still feel his chest burn when he thinks back to it.) Not that they can remember that though. He still doesn’t trust them.
“You are Danny Fenton, correct?” Superman asks and Danny stiffens.
Fenton — not Nightingale like he has changed his surname into to escape his parents influence and leave everything behind.
“Yes,” he says warily — seeing no point in lying. Considering Batman is lingering behind Superman the Detective would figure it out instantly.
“And you used to be Amity’s Park’s vigilante Phantom?”
Danny grips the door frame, knuckles white. What’s their point? Are they trying to intimidate him?
“Yes,” he grits out.
“We were told that you are the one we should seek out in matters involving Ghosts and the Infinite Realms,” Superman continues, but Danny doesn’t let him finish.
“I’m retired,” he interrupts. “Find someone else.”
“There’s a world-ending event,” Superman says like that would convince Danny. Like Danny hadn’t lived though so many of them — had to prevent them from happening without anyone’s help every single time. Guilt-tripping much? “Even if you don’t want to fight — we need you as an advisor.”
Danny snorts, shaking his head.
“Go take up the matter with the Justice League Dark then.”
Danny moves to close the door, but still Superman’s foot doesn’t budge. He could probably brute-force his way through this — but Danny’s tired and he’s not in the mood to explain to his neighbors why his door is broken and he needs to do repairs.
He glares at them and to his surprise Superman actually takes a step back — but still not enough to be able to close the door.
Danny hasn’t transformed into Phantom since he left Amity Park. Had kept that part of himself locked away — would have separated his Ghost Self from himself if he didn’t know he would be selfish for that. Had ignored his Obsession even if it screamed at him — had pushed it away in his Human Form even if it muted all the colors around him and it meant that every breath was a painful wheeze.
Faced with this situation he almost wants to break the promise he made to himself — but he can’t.
There is no GIW anymore — Danny had made sure of that. He had wiped all of their files and his parents published research with the help of Technus. He had dismantled both portals to the Ghost Zone and made sure no one would be able to replicate it. But Danny also knows the Justice League — knows how much Superman’s punches hurt, how it feels to get mind controlled — they could overpower him in an instant if he twitched as much as into the wrong direction.
He really doesn’t have a choice here, doesn’t he? If he doesn’t go out of his free will — they will force him with any means necessary, of that much he is sure.
His gaze trails to his neighbor’s house and the swing in their backyard. And if they are right and he turns them away — is he sure he won’t feel any guilt if something happens that he could have prevented? Sometimes Danny really hates his Martyr Complex.
Danny sighs, defeated.
“What do you need my help for?”
They had liked their new neighbor despite the fact that he barely left his house other than to water his plants. They had known that the young man was sickly. He looked like death wormed him over and was weak on his feet— his ice-blue eyes dull. His smile barely held any warmth in it.
Still they invited them over after he had given their daughter eggs to bake the cake for their birthday. They learned that he was kind and had escaped to their small village to live a quiet life.
When the young man came to tell them that he would be out of town for a few days and to please water his plants if they could, they were worried.
“Are you sure that you are fine, son?” they asked and touched the man’s forehead — but it was icily cold like the rest of their skin had always been. “You look even paler than usual.”
The young man had only given them a half-hearted smile and affirmed them that he was fine
Their daughter's excited steps had hurried behind them and she tugged on their pants after the man had left.
“Was that Uncle Danny?” the girl asked. “Can I play with him?”
They gave their daughter a weak smile.
“Uncle Danny is busy for a few days,” they explained. “Later, okay? How about you draw him a picture while we wait for him to come back? So he has something to look forward to?”
Their daughter nodded and raced back to the living room, searching for supplies, while they continued looking out of the window. They can’t help but have a bad feeling about this.
It’s unnerving how quiet the young man is.
There are no easy smiles, sassy quips and puns like from the few shaky phone videos they had pulled from the internet about Phantom.
He’s meticulous. Probably even more than Batman — and that is a statement. There had been a deep mistrust in the eyes when they had located him and asked him to help them. It’s evident in every step he makes. He double-, even triple-checks every single evidence, every single sentence, every single word they say.
Nothing is left unturned as he works the way though the situation like if he is dealing with a case. He never stops moving, always doing something — reading through heavy leather-bound books or through their reports. His heart rate is so slow that Clark sometimes wonders if the boy is still breathing at all.
When the young man had asked them if they spoke to the leader regarding the war declaration and the reasons behind them, he had clicked his tongue when they told him no.
He hadn’t let anyone help him when he drew out the summoning cycle — it looked even more intricate and complicated than they had seen from Zatanna or Constantine. When he had spoken the words for the spell, his words had sounded ancient and undescribable — hushed whispers following every single word. He clasped his hands and only opened his eyes when he spoke the last word, his eyes burning a deep green.
The cycle goes up in green fire before a form appears — Clark recognizes the Ghost from the declaration.
The man’s cold gaze sweeps over the Justice League before it stops on Phantom. He smirks, bowing his head slightly.
“I greet the Prince of the Infinite Realms.”
“Cut the crap Fright Knight,” Phantom's voice is steel-hard. “We both know I refused that position.”
The man tilts his head but nods.
“Very well,” he says. “I greet Phantom, savior of the Infinite Realms.”
Phantom grits his teeth like he wants to refuse that title too before he shakes his head. He gestures to the Justice League.
“Explain.”
“We are just paying back what has been done to us,” Fright Knight claims. “Vita brevis, ars longa, occasio praeceps, experimentum periculosum, iudicium difficile.”
“Life is short, art is long, opportunity fleeting, experiment treacherous, judgment difficult,” Diana translates for them.
“I see the Daughter of the Queen of the Amazons knows her arts,” the man’s voice has a hint of mockery. “Humanum genus est avidum nimis auricularum. Ignorantia legis non excusat:”
Diana’s eyebrows knit together as she listens.
“Mankind is too greedy for lies. Ignorance of the law does not excuse,” her voice is almost a whisper.
“I would have thought you would know of this Phantom,” Fright Knight addresses the young man again. “But now seeing your state, you probably didn’t feel the call for the announcement either. Is there a reason why you are starving yourself?”
Phantom doesn’t meet any of their eyes as he answers.
“That is unimportant to this situation.”
Fright Knight’s lips twitch back into a grin.
“If the savior of the Infinite Dreams claims so, then I have no choice but to accept it.” He turns back to the Justice League. “Si vis pacem, para bellum.”
“If you want peace, prepare for war.”
“When have we been ignorant?” Batman finally steps in.
Fright Knight huffs out a dark laugh.
“When has mankind not been ignorant?” Fright Knight questions. “When your government captured my brethren and tortured them, where were you? When they declared us as non-sentient and staged war against us, where were you? When they threatened to destroy our home, where were you?”
The man’s eyes seem to burn as he repeats himself.
“ Where were you? ”
Clark and the rest of the League are shocked to silence.
“Now that the danger has passed, why should we just forgive you? Why should we forget?” Fright Knight continues. “If we are not worthy enough to be counted towards mankind that means we just have to rewrite the rules. And since we were never given the chance to negotiate, that means by force.”
“The Meta-Protection Acts-”
“Only count towards those that are alive.” Fright Knight interrupts Batman. “After all, how can the dead feel any emotions such as pain? I’m sure if you ask your government they will hand you a lot of pretty reports on the biased experiments that prove so.”
“But that’s-” Clark starts but Fright Knight doesn’t let him finish.
“Despicable? When has that ever stopped mankind?” Fright Knight asks. “We can talk if there isn't a law that states that we can be eradicated without any consequences.”
Before either of them can stop him, Fright Knight swishes his cape made out of purple fire and disappears. Clark faintly asks himself if that is how other people feel when Batman does that in front of their noses.
Seeing no other option the entire League turns back to Phantom who hasn’t said a single word since the Ghost went on his tirade.
“Phantom-” Batman tries, but the young man’s eyes burn with so much hate that the normally stoic man stocks in his words.
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Phantom seethes. “You heard him. Now finally do your jobs right for once.”
Then he leaves the room without a single glance back.
Clark gulps as they look at each other.
“I feel like we made a mistake.”
When the news declares the Anti-Ecto Acts as abolished, Danny feels nothing but exhaustion. The Justice League barely managed to avoid a large-scale — and very justified war.
Danny leans back tiredly on his sofa. His eyes trail to the drawing his neighbor’s daughter had given him and the first genuine smile in months graces his lips.
“What I don’t do for mankind,” he sighs before he closes his eyes.