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Chapter Text

Distant search horns shook Danny's ear fins, but he kept his eyes on the sun over the horizon, where mountain peeks emerged. He had to move quickly. Danny thrust forth with all his fins and gripped the still, small body in his arms. Stupid rich kids and their stupid ignorance about Amity Island. Danny cut through the water, and didn't bother to slow down upon reaching the shore. Crashing and tumbling through the sand, Danny recovered in seconds, and sat up in his arms. The kid's shirt gave way to Danny's claws, and he pressed his palms upon the kid's chest, and pumped like his life depended on it.

This innocent kid's life did.

He, Sam and Tucker had trained for hours on mannequins and real people out in the field, but who knows how long Damian had been underwater, how long he had been calling for help. Salty seawater gurgled out of the kid's mouth, but no more movement was to be found. Danny pressed his lips upon Damian's and exhaled. He pressed down on Damian's chest with just enough strength to avoid cracking every rib. Kiss of life. Press. Press. Kiss of life.

Most people would've been woken up by now. The crashing waves and wind over the lifeless body roared like a death toll. Six months as Phantom, dozens of attacks, and Danny was able to save everyone, everyone. He had to.

His arms, trained and honed from hundreds of hours in the water, burned as if stabbed by hot knives. His body was beginning to dry off, pearlescent white scales fading into pink skin. Glasslike flesh filling and hiding away internal organs and bones. Fins receding into bone. Tail snapping into and bones resetting. A human teenage boy kneeled over a child, tears rolling down his eyes. Why wasn't it working?

A rib cracked thunderous, and Danny hesitated for a brief second, but Damian stirred not. Danny continued. He could barely see his own arms, couldn't tell if the rhythm was even right. Despite arms growing wearier and wearier, strained and more strained. How could he ever look anyone in the face again, knowing Damian was right here, right now, and yet-

crack, another rib broke. He had to keep going. So many people were counting on him, even if they didn't know it. From Sam's parent's gossip, this kid apparently had a dozen and a half siblings, and a father who'd already lost his own parents.

Danny collapsed on the sand, naked and shivering. His fingertips felt numb. His toes felt numb. His body felt numb and his heart felt like it was harpooned and his brain was erratically screaming into the walls of his skull. There was no denying, no more.

Even if- Even if he could magically restart Damian's heart, and get his lungs pumping again, there was no human on earth who would not suffer irrevocable brain damage. The kid would be a vegetable for his entire life.

Not like it matters.

Danny wrenched a sob. He grabbed a handful of sand and throw it into the ocean. He slammed his foot into a rock and didn't even care when it came back bloody.

How could he return to Amity now? And tell Bruce Wayne to his face what he let happen.

Danny fell to the sand, numb again. It was his death, his drowning. He vowed it would be the last one, the last in Amity, and now...

And now...

Danny shot up. He leaned over Damian's corpse. Lightning fired off in his mind, and new anxiety gripped him, but above all, hope.

"I'm sorry." He said.

Danny dipped his hand into a tide pool, letting scales and webbing over take it. He opened his claws, and and sank them into damian's arm. Blood seeped out and coated the white scales. Twisting the claws he carved out a chunk of human flesh, and brought it to his mouth. Danny swallowed it in one gulp.

Next, he brought the claws to his own shoulders. In as swift a motion and much shriller a pained scream, strings of fresh siren meat were produced.

"Please forgive me." Danny prayed, to whatever unfeeling god was listening. He opened Damian's move, and shoved the bloody strips down the hatch.

The effect was instantaneous. Danny had to work quickly. Painful memories tied up in a cave resurface. The urge to push them down was ignored; now they had to be studied. He tore off the remainder of Damian's clothing, and carried him closer to the water line. Green scales emerged from Damian's belly like blades unearthed from a long-forgotten battle. Danny sank his claws into the gaps of Damian's ribs and tore long gashes in them. The scales climbed up Damian's chest. Danny rolled the child's body on its side as they swept over his back. Bones cracked and snapped and broke, as spikes pushed out from underneath his spinal column, slimy thin webbing already connecting them.

Beneath, Damian's toes elongated as if stretched by a black hole. Bones shattered into dust underneath, all to be more malleable for the final product. The skin wasn't much better off either. As it stretched to its paper-thin limits and tore, more and more scales came forth to cover the damage.

Danny felt green in the gills. He couldn't bear the strain of those memories, and erupted with bile, hunched over. He couldn't bare to spectate as Damian twisted and bended like putty anymore. He'd already failed and violated the kid enough.

Danny dived into the water. The least he could do was make sure he didn't wake up hungry.

Chapter Text

Danny clamped his teeth down on his kill, at last a fish big enough that to feed the both of them, and which hadn't escaped. Ear fins fanned out, he kept wary of approaching hums of boat engines.It could've been only a few minutes, but to Danny it was as if hours had passed. He'd already failed Damian once, and for his distraction he earned a new gash or two from

Danny startled when he came back. Damian had not awoken just yet, but the transformation was complete. Dark green scales enveloped every inch of skin on his body, soft from youth. Spots of gold scales like freckles gathered around his cheeks, and at the base of each of his fins and transitioned into full golden membrane with the faintest red along the tips.

And of course, Damian had no legs, none at all, replaced by the thick sinew and muscles of a siren's tail. All of this Danny knew would happen, and expected, but he never thought about how tiny Damian looked at the moment.

From head to tailfin, Damian's new height (or length?) only equalled half of his human height. Siren children were small compared to humans, for sure, but even Youngblood was easily a head or two taller than Damian at this moment.

Before he could ruminate further, Damian's eyes shot open. Faster than Danny could blink, the new siren launched himself at Daniel with a piercing shriek of a war cry.

Damian's talons gripped onto Danny's scales, and his jaw snapped down upon his shoulder like a vice. Danny yelped and fell upon his back and bent his sail.

Damian's tiny hands wrapped around the elder boy's neck. His tiny young face twisted into an honestly shocking amount of anger and agression. His hackles rose and his fins stood at full attention.

"Where am I?! What have you done to me?! Return me to my original form or perish!" Damian spat out in hissed clicks and chirps. Despite the situation, Danny finds himself thinking he had to be really upset if he didn't even notice the change in voice.

"Answer me!" Damian hiss and bared his teeth. Danny gulped, which was difficult considering the tiny hands vice-gripping his neck. Suddenly he realised he'd never had to comfort a newly-turned before.

"H-hey hey hey now, there's no need to get all murderous over here!" That was the wrong thing to say, because suddenly there was a katana straight for his neck. "Where did you get that?!"

"From my clothes, you buffon, the clothes that you violently relieved me off. What other untoward things have you done with my body? Speak!"

"Look I didn't do anything untoward to your body I swear! I was trying to save you!"

"You mutilated me! You kidnapped me and drowned me and now you clain innocence with nothing to prove such a notion!" Damian's grip wavered for a moment, and Danny realised something. This kid was probalby scared out of his life, and his shouting wasn't helping anything. The smaller boy's gills flapped open. His breathing laboured, heavily.

"You need water. You're not gonna survive long.

"I can kill you long before that point." Gently, Danny picked the child up by the waist, his arms far outreaching the boy's tiny limbs. "Unhand my you psychotic murdering wretch!"

Horns blared in the distance. Damian's body seized up, his ear fins curling in on themselves in Danny's peripheral vision. "They've caught up to us."

"Good, now it means you can be put to justice and I reunited with my father."

Danny coiled his tail and pulled Damian against his chest, against the boy's protests. "The only thing they're gonna unite you with is a scalpel."

"I said unhand me!"

"No time!" Danny uncoiled like a spring and shot into the water. GiW agents shouted above the surface. Danny held him tight against his body. Motors roared into action and echoed through the water. Sonars rang in his ears. But they could never catch up to even a teenage siren.

Pain rocked up his arm. Danny loosed his grip, and Damian slipped out. After floundering for just a few seconds, Damian righted himself and bolted for the ships. The speed at which he made for the freaking GiW shocked Danny. This kid was a human less than an hour ago!

Shit. "Where the heck are you going?!" Danny shouted. He wasted precious seconds turning around and doubling back. "They're not gonna help you Damian!"

"You cannot fool me with your temptations, siren!" Daman spat out. Then he did the absolute worst thing. He surfaced.

Danny's heart sank again. No, no, not again. He pushed through as fast as he could. Damian shouted something above the water. An agent in cold sunglasses aimed a gun at him.

Damian seemed to realise his mistake. He tried to evade the attack, but his strange body just left him rolling over in place.

Danny's eyes glowed blue. Seawater froze into ice in his hands, and he tossed the spear over water. The spear landed an inch away from where the agent was standing. In his shock, he lowered his gun. Danny shot forward. He grabbed Damian's hand and pulled him away. Harpoons flew into the water. Danny ducked and weaved through all of them and full speed. Soon they were far behind the horizon.

Chapter Text

Danny would guess they'd gone about 20 miles by the time he'd stopped. They were well within Siren Territory by then, not that that was any comfort, considering the source of most of the trouble in the last six months, but distance was distance. Thankfully, none of his usual enemies bothered to rear their heads, likely licking their wounds from their last encounters.

In a tiny cave blocked off by kelp and coral, Danny leaned back against a wall and caught his breath. Damian had been silent for most of the swim, which was a small blessing. It let Danny think; think about what happens next. The tiny siren loosened himself from Danny's arms, and did a few cursory flaps of his fins.

"Where have you been taking me?" Damian mumbled.

"Around. Can't exactly double back to Amity right now." He hoped Bruce Wayne was an accepting man. He'd adopted kids from all manner of backrounds, but that didn''t help the same nagging uncertainty that plagued him whenever he thought about his own parents. If he'd just doomed Damian to a life without his father, he didn't know if he could live with himself.

Damian floated to the other side of the cave, his eyes on Danny the whole time, arms crossed in a scowling expression.

"And then?"

"I don't know. I give you back to your dad? I wasn't exactly planning out every step earlier."

"Then what were you thinking?" Damian's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Do you suggest I return to the public, to school looking like this? I can hardly breathe over water, let alone walk."

"I don't know! I just..." Danny poked his finger webbing. "I've been doing this for six months. And the whole time, even if it was hard and painful, I never lost someone. No one ever, well." Danny swallowed thickly.

Damian huffed. "You are a poor excuse of a hero."

"I failed you, there's no denying it. I was too late, and I let you drown. I'm sorry. There was no other way, I swear."

Danny looked up to Damian again, but the smaller boy looked away, his expression unreadable. "Take me back."

Yeah, that wasp probably the best he could do for Damian now. Bruce Wayne was probably having the mother of all freakouts, and if Damian never wanted to see Danny again, then that was fine. He was sure the world's richest man would be able to accommodate Damian's needs just fine. Rich people were weird like that.

It took some begrudging glares, but Damian at least allowed Danny to take his hand and use his much better swimming skills, but Damian didn't look very happy about it. Then again, today was probably the worst day in the kid's life.

They were approaching the island at rapid pace, its lustrous palm trees swaying in the distance, a promise of stability, and safety at last.

Motors hummed in the water. Danny's blood froze. Immediately he submerged and ducked near the sea floor.

"What is this delay for? Let me see." Damian pushed against Danny's hand, but the older boy kept firm.

"Patrol boats. Dozens of them. And they're all on high alert. And they've got Fenton tech. Shit."

"Can't you swim past them?"

Danny sputtered. What was this kid thinking? He wasn't some god of the sea! "I can't fight thirty boats by myself! They're gonna skewer us both!"

"What about your camouflage?"

"That would've worked a couple months ago, but these guys have got Fenton Sonars."

Damian did a double take. "The Fentons? You mean the town crackpots?"

Ouch, his parents were a little obsessed, but they definitely weren't crazy. Not anymore. "The town siren hunters. And yeah maybe Jack's not great at hunting, but their inventions work. I've got a scar or two to prove it."

"My father is on that island." Damian growled. "You have to do something."

"But it's not your dad on those boats, is it?" Danny furrowed his brow. "Those guys don't see you as human, or even sentient. They think you're another monster to be studied."

"No thanks to you." Damian challenged.

Danny growled back. "I was saving you! And now you wanna be un-saved?"

They glared into each other's eyes. Danny should really feel bad about squaring up to this literal child, but man was he difficult not to get annoyed at. Deep breaths, Danny, deep breaths. This was going to be more difficult than he imagined.

Damian glared at Phantom, the supposed siren superhero of Amity Park. He wanted to scream, to yell and to cut something open, preferably Phantom, if he weren't his only ticket home, and if only he had his weapons on him.

Such a loss of composure would be beneath him, so he remained stubbornly defiant.

As much as he wished for it not to be the case, Phantom was in all likelihood correct. This horrid, horrid body was new to him. Dozens, no, hundreds of foreign sensations flared from every part of his person, each impulse sending his body wobbling in new, unexpected directions. He would never get through the blockade on his own, which killed half of his initial plans. These blasted sonars killed the other half.

Damian grit his teeth. "Fine." He said, despite the embarrassment welling up at having to admit defeat. "But this conversation is not over."

"I bet." Phantom said, the infuriating cur.

By Damian's estimates, it should have been around midnight when Phantom stopped. They took refuge underneath a larger cave, filled with sparse furniture, a rug and some tables, with dark green curtains over the entrance. Small glowing jellyfish provided faint light. It seemed like the hopelessly domestic scene Jonathan would enjoy.

Damian slithered (He didn't crawl or shuffle. He was too dignified) into the corner of the cave, where he assumed a defensive position and poured all his seething hatred into glaring at Phantom.

"Welcome to Casa de Phantom! Or at least one of them. I've got a couple hideouts here and there. I'd say 'make yourself at home,' but I guess you beat me to the punch." Phantom said with a laugh. How dare he!

Damian hissed. "Tt. I am taking advantage of the opportunity for respite while taking necessary precaution against a rogue element."

"A rogue element? I don't know if you're serious or just pulling my tailfin."

"Do not test me, Phantom."

"Right. Look, I'm gonna go get us some food, so just stay put or something or other. I won't be long and then we can talk about where we go next. Oh, and don't touch anything!"

Damian growled at him again for good measure. Phantom exited the cave in short order, leaving Damian with ample opportunity for investigation. He wouldn't be a Robin if he didn't seize this opportunity.

Damian uncoiled himself and pulled his body along the soft sand. The grains tickled and pricked at his scales. The tables held a number of different gadgets and tools. Human clothes like t-shirts, a few vests and belts were scattered around. The bench held various strange devices, like a glowing blue lipstick, and a thermos of all things. Damian knocked on the thermos, the clanging sound confirming it was hollow. The most incriminating detail of all, however, was the distinctive F logo branded onto the side of each and every device.

How does a siren with no legs acquire so many inventions from siren hunters? He supposes they really are better siren hunting inventors than proper fighters. It was a miracle Jack Fenton hadn't drowned by now, considering how he conducted himself in a fight.

The thermos was lightweight, its metal settling gently against his webbed hands. Videos of Phantom's exploits have been scarce, and grainy, showing very few useable details. Various buttons and lights adorned the thermos, showing it was no ordinary soup holder.

Damian popped the cap off. The thermos' interior contained a circular mechanism of some kind. "What in the world?" Surely this could not be a weapon. The cylindrical design and lack of handholds would have made it too unwieldy. The kickback from any shot would throw off the wielder's aim every time. As Damian peered and tried to get a closer look, his finger slipped on one of the buttons. Blast.

The thermos whined. Its interior glowed blindingly bright. Before Damian could react, a blue beam engulfed his body. Damian felt his body warp and compress into a tiny space, before his vision went dark.

Damian awoke, vision blurry and head pounding. Phantom's smug face floated above him.

"And that's why I told you not to touch anything."

Damian shook off the grogginess and sat up, almost colliding with Phantom's face. "What manner of trap was that? Were you attempting to disfigure me once again for your sick pleasure?! En garde!"

Damian was no good swimmer in this form, but it was easy to launch himself off the floor and into Phantom. Phantom, for his part, didn't sit idly like the last time. He raised his arm and blocked off Damian's access to his neck, a shame, but that did not stop Damian sinking his teeth into Phantom's flesh.

That is, if he could actually penetrate his skin.

Damian blinked in shock. Sirens were supposed to have razor sharp teeth. He'd seen those fangs in Phantom's own mouth. He should be drawing blood right now, but as he was he was barely denting Phantom's scales.

Phantom laughed, as if it just tickled. "Dude, I literally let you out of the thermos. It's not a 'trAP to diSFiguRe yOu fOR mY sIcK PleaSuRe,' it's just a containment device for sirens. Also can you stop that please, it tickles."

Damian flung himself off of Phantom's arm, retreating back into his corner. "How have I not drawn blood?! This is madness!" Damian sucked in breaths through his gills, an endlessly foreign and vulnerating sensation. "The only useful thing about this body was supposed to be its natural offensive capabilities, yet it is unable to achieve even that!"

"Siren kids just have blunter claws and teeth. Youngblood's the same."

"Do not call me a child!"

"Your claws will grow in over time, it's just the nature of things."

"You say that as if you will not return me to my true human form."

Phantom shifted uncomfortably.

Damian pressed. "Well?"

"Yeah about that..."

"Do not tell me you have no way to reverse it!"

Phantom's look of guilt sealed it. Damian's heart sank. Goodbye Robin, goodbye previous life. All his hard work and sacrifice for naught. Phantom had saved him from death by drowning, but suddenly Damian felt as if he were better off dead anyway.

Tears built up. What was happening to him? He hadn't cried since he was five years old, a show of weakness that grandfather had beaten out of him. Then again, he was really one year old back then, artificially grown to a competent age.

"H-hey, d-don't cry or anything, I was just-"

"I am not crying!" Damian shouted. He turned away from Phantom and stuffed his face into his tail, praying somehow the tears would go away on their own. He was Damian Wayne, son of Batman and Talia Al Ghul, there was no such thing as crying for him, none at all. There had been nothing, absolutely nothing he had been unable to overcome. He was going to overcome this, no matter what. These things he knew.

Why had this feeling not abated?

There had to be a solution, there just had to be. There had to be some kind of surgery that could split his tail into legs again. No that was absurd, what kind of quack surgeon can completely alter someone's species? Perhaps magic instead? Normally he hated the involvement of magic, but if it was the only way. Perhaps Zatara could assist, or he could pawn something off to that Constantine. But nothing ever good happened from associating with that man. Or maybe Aquaman would have a solution, someone well versed in oceanic magic, except Aquaman's claim of being king of the ocean was doubtful considering the siren attacks that lead him and Father to this forsaken resort town in the first place. What if... What if....

Damian felt lightheaded.

A weight pressed on Damian's body. Warm scales against his own, their individual texture segmented, but smooth, like a kind of weighted blanket. A hand laid on his shoulder. Damian remembered where he was, remembered to perform the mental exercises Father had taught him.

Slowly, his breathing evened out. His fins steadied into a gentle lull. Damian's eyelids felt heavy. His chest vibrated in a strange rhythm he couldn't place...

Suddenly the weight disappeared, and Damian blinked himself awake. Phantom retreated a sociable distance away, looking sheepish.

"Sorry, about touching you without your consent, I just saw you were hyperventilating, and I remembered a few classes about this stuff, and I watched that film too, Puss in Boots 2, it was great and-"

"Do sirens watch human media often?" Damian said. He gripped his tail, something solid to keep him anchored.

Phantom seemed to freeze for a moment. "Uhm well, maybe they do! just because we're sirens doesn't mean we're uncultured!"

Damian would have loved to pick this information apart, scan it for weaknesses until he knew this person in and out, but at this moment, he simply sat and let it settle underneath the shame of expressing similar, or even more weakness.

"Speak of this to anyone, and I will have your head."

"Yeah that would be a dick move, so if I ever did that, feel free to take it."

Chapter Text

Damian's face twisted in disgust at the offending object.

Phantom's quirked in confusion. He nudged the massive striped bass towards the smaller siren. "What's wrong?"

"I am a vegetarian." Damian huffed. "And it's raw."

"Oh. Uh, whoops." Phantom shrugged. "I don't know how to break it to you, dude, but, like... There's not much better to eat out there."

Damian glared at him. "I would rather starve."

Perhaps he was being too stubborn. With a buffoon of a companion such as this, the situation was better treated as a survival scenario than a mere mission. Damian was no fool. Vegetarianism was a luxury afforded to those with the food abundance to choose.

That, and it had been a solid sixteen hours since his last meal. His tail felt sore and aching in a way he hadn't felt in years. His stomach growled and groaned, demanding something to fill it.

The last time he felt a hunger like this was when he was still in the League, when they sent him out on weeks long missions where he starved under moonlight and ate birds and rats to survive.

"Come on, Damian, you need to eat something." Phantom cajoled, as if his puppy-eyed look could ever match that of Richard's. "And the seaweed's not gonna sustain you. Believe me I tried."

"Are sirens obligate carnivores?"

"No, but-"

"Then tell me why I cannot sustain myself off of kelp and seaweed?"

"Dude, those things have literally no calories in them."

A valid point, but just because he was right did not mean Damian had to cede the point so easily. "Is the siren species so primitive as to not have cultivated plants in order to sustain their population?"

"I literally don't know how to answer that dude. Do I look like an ambassador or something to you?"

Damian frowned.

"Look, it's getting late and we'll need all the rest we can get. I promise it doesn't taste that bad. We'll try and work something out tomorrow, how's that?"

Damian sighed. "Very well, but only because I very my life, thank you very much."

"Thank god for that..."

Damian unwrapped himself from his tail, and approached the poor fish. "I am terribly sorry, fish. I will not let your sacrifice be in vain." He muttered.

He looked up to find Phantom with a small knife, cutting up the fish into messy fillets, like this was the first time he'd done so. Peculiar. Surely he had lived off fish his entire life, and had deboned many before this moment.

"Just so you don't get poked in the mouth by a bone or two. Those things suck."

Phantom offered a strip of meat. Shutting his eyes, Damian took the food, and shoved it into his mouth, chewing minimally before swallowing.

The taste was... acceptable.

More than acceptable. perhaps.

It would be a shame to let the fish's death go to waste.

...

Damian sank his teeth into the side of the fish, eyes almost rolling into the back of his head from the taste.

Some time later...

Danny floats back into the cave, a handful of kelp bundled up in his arms. "Hey Damian, look I know this situation sucks for you, like in every way, so I went out and got some greens for you, just so it's not all meat and- Wait, Damian?"

The boy in question slept fastly, his fins gently drifting back in forth in the small currents caused by Danny's entrance. His head was slumped against the bass he'd brought in earlier, little strips of fish still stuck in his teeth.

Now that he wasn't making faces and being angry at Danny, he was honestly pretty cute.

Danny wiped some of the bits of meat off Damian's cheek, careful not to scratch his soft scales with a misplaced claw. Despite being so small, Damian managed to chew through a sizable portion of the fish that was easily half his size or more.

Setting the child's body to the side, and draping a small blanket over him, Danny set to finishing off the rest.

He hoped everyone back home wouldn't worry too much. If the GiW boats didn't clear out by tomorrow, then they were in for a big problem. He and Tucker were working on making waterproof earpieces, but they weren't ready yet, and his waterproof phone had been left in his room when he'd rushed out to get Damian back. That meant no communication with Amity Island whatsoever. No way to get in contact with Bruce Wayne, and no way for his friends to know he and Damian were ok.

He was really in over his head, wasn't he?

The morning came with a very loud wake up call.

"YO BABYPOP!"

Danny jolted awake and bumped his head into the nearest desk overhead. "Who's attacking us?!"

Beside him, Damian jerked himself into a defensive stance (or as close to one as he could manage.)

The curtains of the cave were pushed open, allowing streams of sunlight to stream in and blind the boy with its glare. Peeking into the cave was the head of one Ember McClain, a vicious grin plastering her face.

"You never told me you got a kid!"

Damian chirped indignantly.

Danny sputtered. "Whawhwh Wh Wait a second!"

Ember pulled out of the cave, and squealed. "Yo Kitty! Dipstick's got himself a kid!"

A woosh of water rushed past, and Kitty's neon green and teal scales showed themselves. "Omg! Phantom aren't you like fifteen? What the heck?!"

Danny blushed deeply teal. "He's not mine I swear!"

Ember pushed Kitty out of the way. "Oh my gosh he's so tiny. Who's the lucky woman?? Or man??? Phantom what have you been getting up to without us?!"

Damian hissed at him from behind Danny's shoulder (when did he get there?) "Begone, harpies! And cease your accusations! I would sooner perish than be related in any way to this incompetent fool."

Ember trilled in adoration. "He's so freaking adorable. Where did you get him, Babypop? An orphanage??"

Danny would've done a spittake, if he was above water. "W-what?! Dude, literally where would even find an orphanage around here?"

"Did his parents dump you on him like Johnny was?"

"Uh I'm not even gonna question that."

Ember clasped her hands to her mouth in scandalous shock. "No way, did you finally turn to the dark side and kidnap him?"

Damian piped up again, gripping on Danny's shoulders with his unsheathed claws and rising higher. "Nonsense, I claim no familial relationship with this person, not by blood, law, or emotion. He is as close to me as any stranger would."

"Ouch Damian. I literally saved your life."

Ember and Kitty chortled and shorted. They clutched their bellies and lead against the walls of the cave. "It's just... PFPFTT Phantom you total scoundrel, ahah!"

"Yeah yeah, look I gotta get this kid back to his dad on Amity, and quick. He's probably losing his mind over there."

Kitty gasped. "So you did turn him."

Danny shushed them. "Don't scream it out for the whole ocean to hear!"

He rushed out the entrance of the cave and shooed them in, covering the doorway up as they entered.

"Look I'd really, really rather you guys keep this on the down low. This is kind of a huge deal right now." Danny said.

He turned to Damian, still perched on his shoulder, his little tail brushing against Danny's ghostly white sail. "Is it ok if I tell them?"

"if it will convince them to vacate the premises."

"If you have to know, Damian's the son of some ultra rich guy. Skulker got him for whatever reason, and I was forced to turn him."

"Dude, Skulker went for a literal child?!" Ember clenched her first, likely hiding her extending claws. Right, Skulker was a bit of a touchy subject for her. "Of his own kind, no less?!"

"That's fucking low, girl."

"And now the GiW are going crazy too. Probalby got a huge donation or whatever. We're just waiting untli they go away so I can get Damian back to his dad, without any dissections. That also means none of you guys should be going near the place either."

"Pfft, too late for that."

Danny froze. "Who did they get?"

"Relaaxx, Dipstick. I was just preparing another concert, only for like fifty boats to show up out of fuckin' nowhere. Luckily I heard them before they saw me, but come on! I was miles from Amity at that point!"

"Miles?" Damian whispered.

Danny felt the same way too. They were only increasing their patrols now, shit.

"It's bad enough that the rest of the Pod are freaking migrating. We haven't migrated in years!"

"Yeah, actually, Phantom you wanna join us? I know you have this whole, err, thing, with Amity Island, but we hardly see you. And Johnny's been itching for a rematch. Maybe you need a break."

Danny looked over his shoulder, to where Damian was lost in thought. This might have been the first them he'd seen the kid not glaring.

"Thanks for the offer, but I need to get Damian home. It's my fault he's like this, and he's got a whole family out there waiting for him."

"Don't you too?"

Danny swallowed a thick of water. He did have a family, a family that was probably going crazy. But at least part of that family, and his friends, knew he could take care of himself, knew that he was a siren, knew that the water was his element. Damian's family didn't have that luxury.

"We'll figure it out."

The girls shared a look, and shrugged. "The offer still stands, Babypop. Oh, and i'll be sure to fuckin' dice Skulker next time i see him, lying, cheatin' bastard.

For a moment, the boys watched the two siren teens' trailing tails, before they turned a corner and disappeared.

"Gotham."

"What was that?" Danny asked.

"If Amity Island is inaccessible to us, then we have to go to Gotham."

"Isn't Gotham-"

"On the East Coast? Yes, it is. It's our only option."

"That's thousands of miles, and you can't even walk!"

"Would you rather we stay here, waiting for the GiW to approach us and kill us both?"

Danny clenched his jaw. Damian was right, wasn't he.

"The only way to reunite me with Father is to go to Gotham. They will not be expecting us there."

"How can you be so sure?"

Damian dislodged himself from Danny's shoulder and floated in front of him. "Because they are unaware of the sirens' power of transformation, am I correct?"

"Good point, but wait, how did you know that?"

"I did some cursory research before coming here. The prevailing theories put forth by the supposed 'experts' on the matter asserted that sirens eat their human victims, with no mentions of turning. They have no reason to believe I am not dead., and no reason to suspect any siren activity in Gotham."

"And you're ok with that. Thousands of miles of swimming in the endless ocean full of things wanting to eat you?"

"Are you not?"

"Ok ok, calm down." Danny had to chuckle though. Rich as this kid may be, he was definitely not spoilt enough to sit still and wait for his dad to save him.

"And the fastest way to get to Gotham is via the Panama Canal." Damian puffed his chest out in what was probably pride. Danny stared at him, dumbfounded.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Have I ever jested to you before?"

"No seriously. The Panama Canal. You realise that place is monitored up and down, right? Literally the moment we get spotted, the locks are gonna, you know, lock down, and then we'll be stranded and sitting ducks to be chopped up by the GiW."

"That will not be an issue. You possess the power of camouflage, do you not? And again, they will not be expecting us in Panama, so they will have no reason to bring any sonars there."

Danny wanted to bang his head against the wall. This idea sounded so stupid, but not stupid enough that it was unfeasable.

"In addition, you said it yourself. Your negligence resulted in my permanent loss of humanity, so it is your responsibility to do whatever you can do right your wrong."

Shit. Came with being the son of a businessman, didn't it? This kid was guilttripping the hell out of him and Danny could honestly not say he didn't deserve it.

"Fiiiine. We're going to Panama."

"Excellent." Damian grinned. "Let us leave immediately."

Danny could only pray that none of the 50 things that could go wrong, did go wrong, but when was his luck ever that good?

No, instead, Danny strapped in whatever supplies he had laying around in the cave. To Panama we go...

Chapter Text

Two pristine white suits stood in the doorway. The laboratory's glaring white light bared down from behind the two men, framing them in an uneasy, uncertain shadow. Despite being indoors, the agents wore cold sunglasses, and one would be forgiven for assuming they were permanent fixtures on their heads.

"Our deepest condolences, Mr Wayne." The so-called Agent K said. Bruce Wayne noted not the slightest hint of condolence or sympathy. 

He considered himself an effortlessly logical person. Someone who got what needed to be done, done. Someone who push away fear and stress in order to chip through the walls and find a path to victory in any situation.

But now, as he stared at the pile of bloody and torn clothes laid on the examination table, a DNA test on the side showing MATCH in bold letters, Bruce found himself blanking for the first time in years.

The first time since Jason...

Damian's tracker had blinked its last only hours before, and Bruce hopped on the first boat he could procure and organised a search part, recruiting the help of the local and governmental siren hunters, not that he was not still suspicious, but man power was man power, and his son was on borrowed time. 

Time that had to be paid back. 

"We could not find a body, sir. Your son has likely been consumed by the sirens."

No body. None. And that was not for a lack of trying. Divers had scoured the ocean floor underneath vigilant patrols. Sonars echoed across the bay and surrounding reefs. Nothing, not hide or hair or even a bone. 

Bruce needed to stay calm, to stay effortlessly logical. There was no way to confirm a death just by some bloody clothes and a lack of a body. He needed to find a way, the only way. 

"Thank you, gentlemen. I'm gonna need a moment alone. I'll be returning to my room." The crack in "Brucie's" voice was not fake.

When Bruce got back to his hotel room, its emptiness like poison to his eyes, he beelined to his laptop. There he opened the staticky and blurry video showing the moment of disaster. 

Damian was on the boardwalk, taking a moment for himself to get away from the hustle and bustle of yet another vapid party. All he wanted out of this trip was to see the fish...

An explosion rocked the boardwalk, sending splinters flying. The camera blurred into static. All that could be made out was a hand grabbing onto Damian's foot and pulling him under. The feed cut out.

Bruce played the recording again, and again, and again. Just like he had been doing all day. It was so blurry he couldn't even identify the colour of the hand.

Each time, his heart broke a little more. A tear came closer and closer to tearing its way out behind the barrier he'd put around his heart. The barrier these damn kids have wormed through over time.

Bruce dialed the phone. It answered on the first ring. "Dick, gather the family. I have some bad news..."

Danny buckled the last belt in his collection around his tail. Funny thing about belts, is that they're still useful even if you aren't wearing pants. The Fenton waterproof torch, the Fenton Stinger, Fenton Lipstick Laser among several other greatest hits slotted neatly into the loops of his belts along his tail. All he needed was a jacket and he might have a biker aesthetic to rival Johnny's.

Damian had spent the past hour or so pacing back and forth, trying to get a hang of his fins and occasionally bumping into a wall. Kid was itching to go out, and had taken to waving the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick around at imaginary enemies, despite having complained about the "inelegance of such a crude weapon."

"You will know suffering." He muttered. "I will make you beg for deliverance." He scowled.

Maybe Danny should introduce him to Sam. He feels like they'd get on like a house on fire.

Damian clung to his shoulder again, little arms wrapped around his neck for purchase as he swam out the cave. The Anti-Creep stick sat comfortably in a holster wrapped round the kid's waist with a knot Danny had to retie six times because he was so small. It was mid afternoon and the sun bathed the reef in bright colours like a warm blanket. 

"We should keep an eye out for any other weapons. Our current stock is not enough."

Danny snorted. "You sound like a serial killer talking like that, you know?"

"I am more dangerous than a serial killer." Damian huffed. Danny could feel the offence radiating off him. To think that a himbo like Bruce Wayne could spawn someone with this many sticks up his ass. "And more intimidating."

"Please threaten me more. I'm shaking in my non-existent boots."

Damian growled. A deep guttural sound that rumbled his chest and tickled Danny's scales. Well, it would've been deep if Damian weren't half Danny's size. 

"Where is your map and compass? How are we to get to Panama without navigation equipment?"

"Relaaax! We don't need a map because I've got a little something called celestial navigation." See Sam and Tuck? His space obsession was useful in his siren life!

The smaller siren head sank and banged on Danny's. "It is broad daylight."

Danny grinned over his shoulder. "Yeah that was a joke."

Damian screeched. 

Danny laughed as he surfaced and got himself some fresh air. Calm waters for miles around them. Slowly he kicked off the swim, building up speed. "Relaaaax. It doesn't take a genius to figure out we need to go south."

"The only reason I have allowed you to live is because you are my only way home."

"As if I couldn't literally sit on you and you'd be helpless." 

"I should invite you to try!" 

Thousands of miles of blue ocean stretched on in every direction Damian looked. Below the two of them, the ocean floor lay deep enough that all Damian could see was a blur. Just above, the surface of the water rippling from slow winds blazes past. Phantom's strength lets them cut through the water at breakneck pace. The water rushing past his ears and fins reminds him of flying with Jon, if only much thicker than air in the upper-atmosphere. 

Light from above, and unending darkness below. It was the darkness that Damian focused on. Occasionally, a tingle spread down his back and through his tail, like a warning, only for nothing to be visible underneath. The first few times, he shivered from surprise. Then it just unnerved him.

He'd read about lateral lines on sharks and other fish before, as a curiosity. Never had he imagined he would come to possess one himself, and never that it would feel so natural that it was difficult to parse it out from all his other sensations. The idea of not feeling this new sensation felt foreign, and unnerving, even though this form was the foreign one.

He would never admit this to anyone, but he didn't know much longer he could deny the creeping feeling on his neck. For all Phantom appeared friendly, Damian knew nothing of his motivations, or even his true character. If Phantom decided he didn't want anything to do with Damian, then what? With no weapons save a measly baseball bat, no contact with the outside world, no armour, no legs, no support and no knowledge of how to survive, he would be good as shark meat.

Damian tightened his grip on Phantom's neck. He was supposed to be above fear, and yet why was his heart pounding so hard? 

A series of fast clicking echoed from the distance. Damian jerked his head to the left. Through squinted eyes hie made out long slender forms swimming parallel, their tails undulating up and down.

"Are those dolphins?" Damian muttered.

Phantom turned to the same sight, and raised his eyebrows. "Huh, I guess they are-" Damian jerked Phantom to their direction.

"We must approach them immediately!"

Phantom's body almost tumbled out of his normal swimming rhythm from the shock. "What? What for?"

"We must! The only reason I agreed to come to Amity Island was to see the sea creatures."

"Dude, you know dolphins can be total assho-" But Damian was having none of it. To solidify his point, he clamped his teeth into Phantom's shoulder, focusing them on the part where bone jutted out. Even if they couldn't penetrate, the blunt force against bone would be very painful.

"YOUCH Alright alright alright alright can you please stop biting me!"

Phantom rerouted their course, and Damian chittered in satisfaction. "Excellent."

The dolphins were as beautiful and majestic as he could have ever imagined. It was a small pod, comprising of about five adults, all swimming together in stunning synchrony. Phantom swam at a cautious distance, close enough to admire but too far to touch. How he longed to pet a dolphin... Even Damian slapping him with his tail could only move him an inch closer. 

"Dude, I've dealt with dolphins before, and they're literally the most evil beings on the planet, right next to toast and Vlad." 

Damian huffed. If only he had a camera on him. To swim alongside dolphins at top speed, out in the wild... He was pretty sure he was drooling, or would have been. 

He'd just have to commit the scene to memory, and paint it when he got home. 

The thought of home made his fins droop a little.

He felt a finger poking at his cheek. "Hey Damian, you ok? Fine, I'll give like two inches, but that's it."

Damian snappes teeth at him. "I am perfectly fine. Just thinking."

Before Phantom could get closer, Damian saw one member of the pod swerve right for them. Instinctively, he ducked, only for the dolphin to somersault overhead, twirling three times before 'landing' right of them. Two more of its podmates followed suit as they danced in circles around them. One of them came so close he could even catch its scent. It smelled tangy, like freedom and excitement.

Seeing dolphins performing manoeuvres at aquariums was one thing, sitting in dries seats what felt like half a world away from the water, but here? Damian felt the water stolen from right out of his gills. 

And the best part was rubbing it in to Phantom. "What was that you said while disparaging these beautiful creatures?" 

"Dude, don't these guys smell weird to you?" Even now he was suspicious? The dolphins smelled perfectly fine.

"Not in the slightest. I believe you are just trying to save face."

"Dude, I've seen dolphins before. Plenty of them, but none of them smelled this.. familiar." 

Then again, now that Phantom mentions it, those moves seemed just a bit too disciplined for a wild animal. Just a bit too measured...

Damian's hackles spiked up. They were surrounded. 

"Phantom, get us out of-"

Deafening squeals blasted from every direction. The noise was so horrible Damian could barely see. His ear fins felt like cracked glass. His field of view was getting darker. They were sinking. 

Phantom moved Damian so he was flat against his chest and curled up. The boys crash landed into the barren sea floor. Pain erupted from every surface as debris and particles tore scales and broke fins. Phantom's screaming mixed into the water with teal blood. He held onto Damian like a vice the entire time.

They finally came to a stop. Damian's head spun and spun and his ears rang. He dimly noted the criss-crossing ropes of a fishing net entrapping them. Above him, the blasted dolphins loomed over them in circles like they were sharks, and in the centre floated a man in a large metal suit, a metal suit sporting a malicious, leopardlike grin, a grin that for a moment he could not place, until his mind cleared.

That face was the last thing he ever had ever seen as a human.

Chapter Text

Pain throbbed from every part of his body. Teal blood leaked from where his scales had been ripped off, and fins torn in two, but the adrenaline was in full swing. Danny forced his eyes open in spiteful glaring. This was a new low even for Skulker.

Danny shifted his body. Thank Jane Austen that Damian hadn’t taken much of the impact, and curse her too for him being right about the dolphins. Danny shoved the kid behind him, even as he clutched his torn up side.

“Phantom, you’re injur-“

“Get behind me.” Danny snapped, putting an inhuman growl into his words. Dami went uncharacteristically quiet at the command.

Skulker loomed overhead, smug bastard. Guy gloats about skinning a fourteen-year-old for sport, fails, then comes back for a ten-year-old instead.

“It is I, Skulker, the greatest hunter in the ocean, and these are hunting dogs.” The dolphins circled around him, even bumping noses with his suit and accepting pats Ugh. As if he couldn’t get any grosser. “And you, Damian Wayne, have a lovely fish tank back at my cabin reserved just for you.”

Danny let magic build up in his arms. All his willpower went into not flinching from the searing pain as stressed muscles took on even more strain. “C-can it Skulker. I thought you were creepy enough with the pelt thing, now you’re outdoing even Vlad, and that’s a fucking achievement. Maybe you should get a cat?”

Skulker slammed his foot on the floor, if there had been a floor. “THE OCEAN’S GREATEST HUNTER DOES NOT NEED A CAT! PERISH!”

Skulker’s suit opened up at the back to reveal blinking torpedo tubes. Danny unleashed his cold magic along the net. The rope flash froze. Pain surged through his tail, but Danny pushed through and launched out with Damian in tow, shattering the ice.

The dolphins squealed again, but with Danny surging out of range, it barely did any damage.

“Damian, take this!” Danny yelled. He unhooked the wrist ray from his utility belt and shoved it into Damian’s hands. “It goes on your wrist. Press the button to arm it. Clench your fist to fire!”

Danny clicked and whistled. The landscape reflected his calls back at him.

His lateral line spiked with energy. Danny swerved to the side just as a torpedo sailed past him. Damian leaned to the side and aimed the wrist way behind them. Watery explosions erupted and sent shockwaves catapulting them further. Holy shit, where did this kid learn to shoot a wrist gun?! Danny’s line alerted him to two bodies overhead. The dolphins were gaining on them quick.

“I’m gonna flip. Hold on tight!” Belly up, Danny fired three quick beams. Two of them missed and hit the surface. One snagged a dolphin right in the tail. It tumbled out of control and crashed into its partner with a distressed click. In his arms, Damian gasped auidibly.

Danny clicked in a high pitch, almost inaudible to humans. He sped along the seafloor south. He kept clicking, and clicking, making sure he was right. A volley of energy beams cascaded down and Danny zigzagged between them. A shot hit its mark. His sail burned as it tore a hole in it. They needed some space fast.

A spear formed in his hand. Danny went belly up again. He took a moment to aim his shot. Skulker fired another torpedo. With an overhead throw, the spear took off and hit the torpedo straight on. A second spear went at blinding speed and puncture Skulker in one of his boosters. A third one impaled him straight on in the leg. Skulker cried out.

Just ahead of them, Danny spotted their salvation. The trench he detected earlier!

With one last look at the hunter, Danny dived into the trench. As much as the guy prided himself a master of the hunt, even the ocean’s pressure would squeeze him like a grape. As the adrenaline faded from his body, and the colour faded from his vision, Danny made for the first cave he saw. With the last of his strength, he entered the cave, before crashing to the floor.

“Damian, need food, to heal..”

“Phantom? Phantom?!” Damian cried out. The older boy’s gills still moved. He could still feel Phantom’s pulse under his wrist.

Damian didn’t even catch himself warbling in terror. Damian tore through Phantom’s pockets. He tossed supplies and tools out until he located the bandages. The bandages went around whatever wounds he could reach, but Phantom was so large he couldn’t even push him to a more even position. It took all Damian’s strength just to lift the older boy enough to bring the bandages around his body.

Damian heaved shallow breaths as he worked. “Phantom, are you awake? Please, listen to me.” But Phantom did not stir.

Damian’s vision went blurry, and his eyes felt slimy and wet and clogged. He wiped the pearlescent tear away, but paused at the teal blue stain on his green-scaled hand. Phantom’s blood. He stared at Phantom’s sail, its spine snapped in two in some places, and torn up like a tattered blanket in others. His breath itched in his throat. Phantom’s gills looked raw, and it was clear they were struggling. Damian’s felt like they were cramping. He didn’t dare touch the sail, or the gills, nor any of his other fins, for he didn’t have the faintest clue what to do with them. His ignorance would only damage them further.

Just as his ignorance had caused this disaster in the first place…

Suddenly, he felt very, very small. Damian’s head flicked between the mouth of the cave, deep enough that it appeared like twilight even though it was mid-afternoon, and to Phantom. Phantom needed stitches, and more bandages, and disinfectant, none of which they had access to. Phantom had packed up almost everything in his home base except the thermos, and somehow he barely had any medical supplies. Frustration welled up in Damian until he wanted to scream.

Damian shot off, but stopped himself inches before the exit. What would he even do? This trench was a wasteland as far as the eye could see. How could one call a hospital in the middle of the Pacific? And even if there was help out there, a primal fear crawled out from the back of Damian’s brain. The thought of leaving the safety of this cave became unnaturally terrifying. Against his wishes, fears of predators lurking in every direction consumed his mindscape, of human fishermen casting nets from above. The darkness of the cave beckoned to him with promises of warm and comfort far away from the dangers of the ocean.

Damian backed away from the mouth. His mouth hung open in horror. Hot tears continued to pour out, despite his attempts to bat them away. His body was weak, his only companion out of commission with no way to save him, and even his very mind was faltering.

And this time he couldn’t even blame it on anyone but himself. He was weak. He let his guard down twice and now he couldn’t even be rational about it. All he could feel was pulsing dread and the tears that just intensified the more he tried to push them back.

Damian laid his head upon Phantom’s tail. He stared blankly through his flesh and counted his bones as he simply let go. Damian cried for the second time in five years, openly and in total remorse. Father would be disappointed. Mother would be disappointed. Pennyworth and Richard would be disappointed.

Damian lost count of how long he spent like this. It could’ve been hours. The tears hardened into shiny beads that piled up on the floor. The pile grew to four inches of height.

The world-ending anguish faded away into a dull ache, a numb sorrow. The faintest motion caught his eye. Damian startled. Blinking the residual tears away, Damian scanned his surroundings, only to find no soul but them.

Another movement. It was Phantom’s hip fins. His translucent skin had showed clearly the fracture bone of the right fin underneath, but Damian could’ve sworn there was one fewer crack than before.

The fin jerked upward. Damian watched in real time as another crack in the bone mended itself before his very eyes. It was mesmerizing.

All around Phantom’s body, the worst of the worst injuries were beginning to heal. By observing from a different angle, Damian could even see wounds sealing underneath the bandages.

However, only a minute passed before the healing slowed down. And then it stalled.

Damian had a solid idea why. Phantom needed energy. They had paused for a brief snack in the morning, and had nothing else the eat up until now. Phantom was starving and accelerated healing was worthless without nutrients to sustain it.

Suddenly, Damian found himself with a new mission. He wiped the last of his tears, sniffed the last of his sniffles, and armed himself. The Anti-Creep Stick and Wrist Ray slotted neatly into his makeshift utility belt, along with a flashlight, and Phantom’s knife. The older siren had vehemently denied Damian a chance at wielding it, deeming the Anti-Creep Stick to be more age-appropriate. Damian would show him now…

However, his new bravado met its match as he paused at the threshold. The closer he got to the outside world, the stronger and stronger that primal fear roared in the deepest part of his brain. Each inch was like sinking through pitch. What would he do if Skulker returned? What would he do if some ancient ocean predator decided to snack on his flesh? Maybe he should just-

No! He could not!

Priming his muscles, Damian shot out of the cave as fast as he could muster, fast enough that he had no time to second-guess his decision. The fear peeked at fever pitch, instinctual warnings build up from eons of siren evolution blaring like the Watchtower in an alien invasion, now ignored. Once he found himself outside the cave, he steeled his resolve, and swam forth into the unknown.

He had to make this up to Phantom, somehow.

Chapter Text

Damian knew Phantom used echolocation to locate this ravine in the first place, but the question was whether Damian could try the same thing. Damian hugged the walls of the cliff face, keeping his body flush against the surface, and lurking around corners and behind obstacles. The coast was clear.

Clearing his throat, he let out a high-pitched click, projecting it as far as his voice could carry. Immediately, his sensitive ears picked up the echoes coming back in layers. While the sound he sent was singular, the echoes came back in staggered waves, with layers of different pitches and tones and brief silent spells over the course of a millisecond.

This echolocation was useless!

Damian weighed his options. He could approach the surface, but there was no telling if Skulker had a vessel nearby where he could lick his wounds. The worst thing he could do was just hand himself on a silver platter to the creep. On the other hand, he doubted a flashlight would be very useful at the very depths of the ocean.

He still had to try.

Damian’s backside tingled with a light pressure, a feeling he’d come to associate with his lateral line. He armed the wrist ray on his left hand, and grabbed the Anti-Creep Stick with the other. Scanning the ravine revealed no other sirens or fish, but a slight stirring caught his eye.

Damian squinted at the crevice on the opposite side of the bark, not quite sure of what he was supposed to be looking at, until his nose caught the smell. There was definitely something there, but it didn’t smell like another siren the way Phantom and the teenage girls did.

An octopus then?

Octopodes were intelligent creatures, beautiful examples of the ocean’s biodiversity.

But Phantom needed sustenance, and he couldn’t afford for Damian to be picky. However, he put away the bat regardless. He wasn’t so cruel as to bash its head in to death. No, he would make it quick.

Damian unsheathed his claws, and coiled up his tail. Hopefully it wasn’t one of the poisonous varieties. He truly did not want to test Phantom’s immunities at the moment. Like a tiger waiting to leap, Damian kept his body still, and scrutinised the rock for the slightest deviation in colour…

There! Damian pounced. The octopus’s colour returned to its natural yellow pallor. His hands wrapped around its bulbous head. Score! Now to kill it. Sorry octopus, your sacrifice will not be in vain.

However, the mollusk was not about to give up without a fight. Suckered tentacles slapped at Damian’s face. The slimy skin of its head allowed it to slip out of its grasp. As Damian went to activate the wrist ray, a cloud of ink spurted right into his face, and he lost track of it.

Dammit! Damian let out some uncouth words under his breath, and banged his hand on the rock.

Hunting for food was difficult. Theoretically it should’ve been simple. Find something edible, kill it, bring it back, but everything Damian found was either too small to be worth the effort, or too big to risk his life. Multiple times Damian was forced to dive around corners or into claustrophobic cracks as ocean behemoths crossed his path. He couldn’t even find a patch of seaweed or algae this deep into the trench.

He was running out of options as the sun began to set above. Damian was starving himself, and it was getting frustrating. His body was not adapted to thrive in these waters, or maybe it was, and he just didn’t know how.

Either way, the exhaustion of the hunt began to take its toll on him. Far from providing for Phantom’s recovery, he had only wasted his own energy for nothing. Each failed kill, each accumulated bruise left him more and more anxious. That was why when he spotted a lone anglerfish creeping up from the depths, Damian decided to challenge it.

She, for male anglerfish were absolutely tiny satellites to the females, drifted into the twilight zone where Damian caught sight of her. She was almost half his size, and her teeth seemed as big as his fingers Her lure glowed brightly against the darkness of the deep ocean, as little fish wandered closer to the ‘sun’ and got chomped for their troubles. She was truly beautiful.

Hiding behind a small shelf, Damian aimed the wrist ray. The gills should allow him to subdue her quickly. Then securing the kill should be easy.

Damian waited. Just a little closer…

Then he fired.

The light of the shot was almost blinding. When the glare faded, Damian saw not a dead anglerfish, but a very much alive one dashing away. No! Damian sprung into a sprint after her. This may well be his last chance to get anything edible. He had to give chase.

Thankfully he’d gotten a lot of practice the last few others. As the anglerfish tried to round a corner, Damian grabbed its tailfin with his claws, digging in to try and slow it down.

Instead, the angler swerved to the side. Its powerful muscles slammed Damian against the rocky wall. Damian cried out in pain, and his grip loosened enough for the angler to get away.

Damian groaned. Not another one.

Damian lay there, dizzy from pain and exhaustion, watching morosely as the scraped scales healed themselves before his eyes, taking up valuable energy that he did not have to spare. Night fell. Without light, the next few quarries would be even more difficult, if not impossible. What he would do for Alfred’s cooking right about now. He would never make trouble at the dinner table again, if he ever got out of this alive.

His lateral line spiked up again, but Damian just felt tired. Sighing, he readied himself for another beating. How the might have fallen…

He noticed a beam of light shining from around a corner. Hushed voices followed. They were speaking Atlantean! Damian’s heart soared. He didn’t know they were this close to Aquaman’s territory! He knew there were a small number of settlements in the Pacific, but he never expected to stumble into one of them!

“Over here, I require assistance!” He called out.

The whispers rose into rushed conversation he couldn’t make out. Soon he found a light being shined on him, and two Atlantean soldiers, a man and a woman, pointing their spears at him. What?

“State your business here, siren.”  The venom in the woman’s voice was palpable. Belatedly, Damian realised it was hasty of him to assume good relations between the two ocean peoples. However, this was his last shot.

“Please, my companion is injured and requires medical assistance. I swear on my name that we do not mean you harm.” Damian pleaded, with complete earnestness. He even added a whimper at the end to make himself look more vulnerable, more childlike and unthreatening, even if it was beneath him.

The man laughed. “Hah! I’ve heard that one before, punk. But if you think you’re gonna pull one over us easily, you’re shit outa luck. Your kind’s not welcome in these waters, now scram.”

Damian’s mouth gaped open. Did these people have not the slightest compassion? He often criticised his father’s habit of picking up strays, but deep down he knew that that trait was a quality of his character, and not a flaw. These Atlanteans could not even be bothered to spare him a glance outside of telling him to leave. Their eyes did not hold compassion, or sympathy, or even pity, only hardened wariness, and contempt.

“Please, I beg of you.”

The soldiers bared their spears at him. “I said scram, siren! Go back to your pod and stay there.”

Damian gave them his best glare as he turned tail and swam.

Only, he stopped once he turned a corner, but was still in earshot.

“Damn sirens, sinking to new lows. What next, a baby?” The male soldier muttered, his voice trailing off as the two returned to their patrol.

Patrolling soldiers meant an outpost, maybe even a settlement. And that meant food, medical supplies, and weapons. Damian knew a golden opportunity when he saw one. If these miscreants would not grant him the aid requested, then who was Damian to decide he didn’t need permission?

And so Damian stalked them closely. He trailed behind the duo of soldiers a dozen or so metres away, using his lateral line and nose to keep close track of their movements. A sense of calm quelled the ever present instinctual fear of being out in the open, as the familiarity of stalking targets washed over him. He almost didn’t have to try, with how terrible their situational awareness. If he were in the king of the ocean’s shoes, he’d be very disappointed with his underlings’ performance.

Perhaps he’d have to snitch on them to Aquaman once this was all over. That would be suitable revenge.

The soldiers unwittingly guided him through the ravine, finally ascending. Above the cliff shelf, about two hundred metres away, stood an Atlantean settlement. Looks like he managed to catch them at the end of their route. Excellent.

Damian estimated the town’s circumference to be around ten kilometres, judging by parallax. He could just spot scores of Atlanteans going about their day, kicking their legs about to swim in a way that seemed so clumsy after seeing Phantom zip through the waves. The buildings stretched out from the flat sandy planes to jutting out from the sides of cliffs.

What was more important was the fields. Huge fields full of leafy plants he had never seen before. Along the cliff face, vines weaved between stone supports bearing strange fruits.

Damian grinned.

Now, all he needed to do was infiltrate.

Chapter Text

Of course, getting into the town would be the first issue. Considering how coldly the guards had treated him earlier, attempting to casually paddle into the settlement would probably end up in disaster.

Thankfully, he wasn’t trained by Batman for nothing.

Damian stalked along the seafloor, flattening his sail and trying his best to avoid looking flashy. He kept a close eye for any patrols or wandering farmers, but the field was empty except for crops. They had likely turned in for the day, which worked out just fine for him.

Floral smells blanketed the field in a deep haze. It was oddly familiar with how vegetables smelled on land: verdant and pastoral, comforting. If he wanted to, he could probably pluck the greens growing on the edge of the field and bring them back to Phantom.

But there was likely even better food in the town proper, and medical supplies, and weapons.

So Damian pushed on. He absentmindedly nibbled some produce on the way, replenishing the energy he had squandered in his attempts to hunt. The crops were tall enough to completely obscure his body even if he were upright.

By the time Damian had crossed the fields, it was fully night time, and the field was cast with pitch black darkness, the moon obscured by cloud cover. The only light came from tiny windows out of the Atlanteans’ homes. Excellent. The cover of night was the best time to perform illicit activities.

Damian watched as the guards from earlier exited what was likely their barracks, alongside other guards. The building stood about three stories tall, with reinforced mud and stone lining its outer walls. The men and women filed out of the of barracks, armour half-undone and spears loosely gripped, laughing amongst themselves.

“The sirens tried to make another play at us. Some scrappy kid demanding shit. Could you believe it?” The man from earlier said. A chorus of laughter erupted. Damian turned his nose up at them from the rooftop he was perched upon.

Good thing about being underwater is that you didn’t need any grappling hooks to get up onto tall places. The locals didn’t either, which is why Damian kept a finger on the pulse of his lateral line, letting it warn him if anything came near.

Damian mentally noted its location, and continued. Most of the night patrols seemed to focus on covering the outskirts of the town, while Damian was already inside and in little danger of being discovered. After another brief search along the rim, carefully flitting between shadow to shadow, Damian found the jackpot. The storehouse.

It was a small mound dug into the rock with two large wooden doors and a lock. His nose picked up the same scent heavy in the area as out in the field, meaning that was likely where they stored their food.

Damian sensed no other people in the area, so he went to work. Unsheathing his claws, Damian set to work on the lock. He’d never picked an Atlantean lock before, but he was trained by Batman, so it posed little threat to him. With a click, the lock came open, and he pushed the storehouse doors just enough for him to slip inside, before closing it behind him.

Immediately he was assaulted by fragrancies and delicate flavours from every direction. Off to one side piles of crops were stacked up in neat rows. On the other side, hooks suspended the carcasses of fish.

Suddenly, Damian was made very aware of his lack of pockets.

Right, time to reroute, then.

Damian’s spine tingled. He dashed to the top of the storehouse, just as the door swung open and a pale blue light shined in.

“Hello? Anyone in here?” The soldier asked. He was a different one from the pair he had encountered earlier. This one was a bit older, a bit deeper in the voice. His posture was surprisingly relaxed, given the circumstances.

Damian could practically trace his gaze moving upward. Blast. Humans usually neglected to consider the verticality of their environment, and he could not afford to be discovered.

Damian descended up on the man. He gave a brief yelp, before Damian brought the Anti-Creep Stick upon his head. In swift fashion, the Atlantean crumpled up on the floor, still.

Maybe there was such a use for a blunt weapon anyway.

Dragging the Atlantean and tying him up in the corner, Damian set about on his task. Checking for any other interlopers, he quietly snuck out of the storehouse. It took him no time at all to trace his steps (his fin-strokes?) back to the barracks.

Careful to stay to the shadows, Damian landed on top of the barracks. The windows were small enough that a regular Atlantean could not squeeze through, but Damian’s meagre size could. Through the window, he took a peek. The room was empty. It seemed like an office of some kind, full of cabinets and paperwork.

Stalking the perimeter of the building yielded similar results. Of course the armory would be a little more secure than out in the open next to a window. There were about two guards in the entire building, which was perfectly fine by him. He’d broken into much more guarded places.

Tucking his fins flat against his scales, Damian squeezed through the window into an unoccupied hallway. The doors on the far right and far left, he had already seen. There were three more doors in the middle.

Sniff sniff… No scent coming from the first door. His lateral line tingled briefly, but the signal was weak, so it was probably detecting the residents of the building on a different floor.

The door was unlocked, which only sank Damian’s already low opinion of these people, and revealed a storage room, full of cabinets, and more paperwork.

Rubbing his hands clean of the stench, Damian investigated the second and third doors. Still nothing. He’d forgotten how much he missed Oracle’s intel. When was the last time he’d gone into a building solely off his own info?

Damian wiggled out of the window he’d come in. Time to do this the hard way.

It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to find the armory. Atlantean floor planning conventions were completely different to anything he’d ever imagined. He had some close calls with the two guards, which was embarrassing because it was only because he was about ready to pull his hair out looking for the damn place.

Eventually, on the toop floor (because of course it was the top floor), Damian found his prize. In one room, medicine, painkillers, bandages and splints practically spilling out of shelves and drawers. In another, scores of swords, bows and arrows, spears, as well as more magical water-bearers lined the walls. More importantly, bags and satchels. Damian wasted no time slinging two bags over his back, carefully minding his sensitive sail, and one satchel around his waist, and helping himself to whatever supplies he could gather.

It was as Damian was securing the last of his loot that a shrill scream sent every fin on his body standing straight up like goosebumps.

“S-S-S-s-SIREEN!” A young man’s voice cried out. Damian whipped his head around to see one of the guards staring right at him, his body quivering in terror.

A piercing alarm rang out. Dammit.

Damian bared his teeth at the man. Almost immediately, the guard passed out. At least that’s one problem solved.

Squeezing out the windows was more difficult this encumbered, but Damian had to be quick, or else the heightened security would pin him down. He gave his surroundings a once over. Guards were beginning to pour into the entrance of the barracks, giving him a moment to pull the last of his ill-gotten gains through,

“Hey you, stop!” An Atlantean ordered from overhead. Damian charged the wrist ray and fired two shots at her. One hit her shoulder and knocked her back. With her line of sight broken, Damian dove for the shadows.

Ducking and weaving between buildings, Damian found the streets crawling with search parties. He was forced to turn different corners, squeeze into boxes, and jerk out of the way before search lights could fall upon him, all as soldiers shouted orders and call outs.

It was positively nerve-wracking. Finally, he returned to the food storehouse, now with two soldiers poking their heads in. That won’t do at all. There was no more time for stealth.

Damian rushed up to one of the guards, and bashed his head in. The other one cried out, and pulled out a conch shell, but Damian blasted it out of his hands before he could sound the alarm. The Atlantean thrust his spear with both hands, but Damian was much faster. The Anti-Creep Stick slammed into the man’s helmet. The helmet vibrated back and forth with a dizzying ring and the guard went down.

The small siren boy rushed into the storehouse and stuffed whatever he could find into his bags, and rushed out. Meat, vegetables, fruit, he cared not, for he had no time to.

Bright light briefly blinded him.. “There he is! Get him!” Five patrol guards. Too many. Time was up. The patrol guards alerted more with a conch shell. They held spears at the ready. “Surrender now and we won’t have to take this any further, siren!”

Hah! They underestimated his tenacity.

Damian’s tail, which had been carrying him for hours now, was so sore it felt like it was about to fall off, but adrenaline animated it with supernatural zeal. He fired the wrist ray at will. The guards were forced to scatter as Damian dashed for the bounds of the settlement. Spears shot out, one almost nicking him in the tailfin, but Damian learned from Phantom’s tactics and kept low, zig zagging to throw off their aim. Soldiers poured out of the streets, firing arrows and spears at the young boy. Soon Damian was outside the limits of town. He dove underneath the field of crops, hoping the lose the soldiers.

The guards scattered out above him. His lateral line went crazy, pinging every single soldier in close range and putting him on high alert.

“There, in the seagrass!”

A spear narrowly missed his sail.

He flipped himself and swam belly up. With a clear line of sight, he began to pelt the guards with continuous shots from the wrist ray. An arrow sailed right for him, but Damian saw it easily. He knocked it away with a flick of his sword. Another guard cut him off in front. The man lunged for him with arms outstretched, but soon learnt how bad of an idea engaging him in stabbing range was.

Before long, Damian had exited the field, and was rapidly approaching the ravine. The guards came hot on his tail, but as Damian descended into the depths, the narrow passageways and foreboding darkness meant that he was alone.

All in a god day’s work for Robin.

Chapter Text

Byleth trembled as the Guard gathered in the barracks later that night. He had been found floating belly up near the top floor after having sounded the alarm.

It wasn’t his fault! T-there was a s-s-SIREN. Right there! In front of him! It looked thin and waspish and starving, and he was sure it was gonna maul him to death right then and there. Did you see the teeth on that thing?! Byleth shuddered. His hand went to cover his gills. Imagine being chomped on the neck by that stuff. The stuff of nightmares.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, he wasn’t the only one terrified. Well, that was a little misleading. Byleth stood at attention in line with his fellow guardspeople, awaiting dismissal. The debrief was long and agonising, hearing details about how the siren lurked around unnoticed for hours, but most of his comrades were just irritated, or even disappointed. He glanced to the right, where Ableth was nursing his wounds from trying to tackle the little demon, and he wasn’t even fazed! Like, holy shit. If the siren got that close to him, he’d probably shit his pants right on the spot!

No, the one who was terrified was apparently the local administrator, currently having a ‘conversation’ (more like a shouting match) with their commanding officer out of sight, but definitely not out of earshot.

“It was a child! A baby! Do you even begin, begin to comprehend how bad this makes you, and by extension, me, look?! King Arthur will have our heads! Our heads!”

Their commander audibly sighed (which was a big yikes, considering how patient the guy was even on a bad day). “I understand your concerns, administrator, but this guard have done the best they can. The siren child was armed with weaponry the likes of which we have never seen before, and the raids have been tireless besides.”

“Blah blah blah blah do you even hear yourself? Maybe if you had trained these grunts better they wouldn’t have been out-matched by a toddler!” Byleth took offence to that. He’d like to see the office suit face up against that monster!

“Only one man was hurt, and he’ll be disciplined for his recklessness. The child did not set out to attack anyone, he was only stealing supplies, and fled when resistance appeared. It’s the same story as ever.”

“It sounds like your guards are as incompetent as ever!”

“The sirens have no way to access such advance weaponry. Do you understand what this means? If we don’t speak up, what will we do when a proper war band appears, each bearing these weapons? How many towns will they have razed before your dead spirit will be ready to admit the consequences of this cowardice?”

The administrator sputtered. The ridiculous loss of composure, and the raucous laughter of Byleth’s friends helped sooth the abject terror of a hundred more sirens appearing out of the ravines. By Poseidon spare them!

Line breakening~~

With the adrenaline running low, Damian ran on fumes as he twisted through the ravine, tracing back his fin-strokes to the cave where he’d left Phantom. Against all odds, he found it, and almost cried in relief. Throwing his newly acquired loot to the floor, Damian let his body drop like a cold iron, and passed out.

Danny felt pain. Like, all over. Everything hurt. Normally he’d be able to heal any injuries he got while siren fighting, and what a blessing that was. He wasn’t sure just how dense his parents could be, but he didn’t want to test it. The aching agony all over his body reminded him just how little he ate that morning, and man was he regretting it. Stupid Skulker and his stupid hunting dog dolphins. His stupid hunting doglphins. And stupid Damian for making him come close.

Well, that was a little harsh. He couldn’t blame the kid for believing the dolphin propaganda. They had a tight grip on the world, man.

The smell of blood prickled his nose. Danny shot up, fully awake. “Damian where ar-”

There the kid was, collapsed against the rocky floor of their makeshift hideout. Beside him, bags and satchels spilled out with food, bandages and weapons?! Guilt rocked up Danny’s body. Did Damian go hunting for food while he was unconscious? The kid’s tiny body was littered in bruises, and raw patches where the scales barely healed over. His sail was bent at an awkward angle too. Where the hell did he go?! Where did he get weapons?

No wait. Danny came closer and sniffed the loot closely. You had to be kidding him. There were Atlanteans nearby?! Part of Danny very much doubted the idea that the Atlanteans, probably the number 2 siren haters in the world aside from his parents, would just hand Damian a gift basket if he asked them to. So he stole from them?

Jazz would call this catasrophising, but she wasn’t around, so Danny felt pretty justified in panicking a little. Like, what was he thinking?! The Atlanteans would’ve skewered him without a second thought.

A small whimper caught his attention. Danny’s mental disaster train screeched to a halt. Damian was shivering, violently. Oh right. It was like, midnight or something in a deep ocean ravine. The kid was probably freezing. And if he wasn’t healing, that meant he was low on nutrients, and even lower on body heat.

Right, needed to care for the kid. Crap. He was planning on staying near the surface for most of the trip. A blanket was big and cumbersome and he didn’t have much storage space on him.

But goddammit if he let the kid freeze to death on his behalf. Resigning himself to a fate of being bitten once Damian woke up, Danny picked up the tiny, fragile guppy, and tucked him underneath his fins. As Danny began to eat his fill, he wondered just what kind of person he was going to be swimming across two oceans with, to be brave enough to go out singularly into the unknown…

Damian awoke to the sound of chewing, and gentle purring. He missed Alfred the cat. Poor kitty. He probably missed Damian too. It’s ok, Damian can make it up to him. He’ll give the little kitty all the pets and grooming he could ask for.

A weight settled on his hair, and- oh… oh that was so good. He didn’t know Alfred could pet him too. Maybe this was one of the good endings to his life, one where he’d spend life as a kitten, without a care in the world. That would be so nice, just being there and safe and warm. The hand stroked and straightened his hair, and it snaked down to where his ears were and scratched them. It was pure heaven. Damian thought that such a place would be forever closed off to him, but maybe the world had decided to be kind…?

“Woah, you’re actually lowkey super adorable like this.” Alfred said. Why did Alfred the cat sound like a pasty-faced teenage boy? He’d always imagined him like the real Alfred: prim, proper, distinguished.

“You sound strange, Alfred.” Damian mumbled. The hand scratched his ear again, and Damian’s purring intensified. “Please return to your proper voice at once.”

“Dude, I have no idea who that is.”

Nonsense. Damian had named his cat after a very distinguished man, and let him know it every time he saw him. How could he not know his own name?

“That is preposterous. You are Alfred the cat, my esteemed pet and loyal member of the family.”

Aflred the cat snorted. He snorted. “Oh my god that is so gold. I’m going to hold this over you literally until you grow old and wrinkly.”

Damian felt… offended. That was so mean! Why would Alfred the cat say such a thing, to him, Damian, his owner and friend! Damian always made sure to treat his pets with the care and respect they deserved, and this is what he got!?

“B-bad kitty. You will be disciplined.”

And Alfred the cat just kept laughing! Alright, the air of relaxation evaporated as Damian started getting annoyed. He opened his eyes, ready to teach his wayward cat some manners when-

The last 24 hours caught up again. Before him was not Alfred the cat, as he had thought, but Phantom completely healthy again, lying on his back, laughing his heart out. Almost literally, too. Damian watched as Phantom’s still beating heart, and water-filled lungs bounced and jiggled inside his chest cavity with each half-choked laugh. It was mesmerizing, and kind of nauseating.

Suddenly Damian couldn’t find it in himself to be angry, just an overwhelming feeling of relief.

“Phantom!” He cried out, voice almost cracking. Phantom tackled him into a hug, and Damian only put up a token resistance. It just felt so… right. “You are… You have recovered from your injuries.”

“It’s Danny, actually.” Phantom, er- Danny, said, voice soft, quiet. Almost vulnerable… “Danny Phantom. Most people just know the Phantom part.”

Danny… Daniel…. “I was foolish. I should not have ignored your warnings. Forgive me, Daniel.”

“Hey now, don’t you start picking up the Fruitloop’s habits. It’s never Daniel. Just Danny. Daniel’s a randomass human name, but Danny’s mine.”

“It does not change the fact that it sounds like a nickname. I… I do not do nicknames.” Damian said. Normally he paraded this fact as a matter of pride. With Richard, Drake, even Kent. Now, with Daniel encompassing his body in warmth, he felt strangely small.

“And I don’t do self-deprecation. So what about a deal? I’ll forgive you, if you promise to call me Danny.” The older boy said, voice leaving no room for argument. And yet, the playful tone underneath it gave Damian something akin to comfort. The way Richard did in the early days, despite Damian’s barbs and open threats.

“Very well, D-Danny.” Damian forced out. The name felt alien on his tongue. “This is a privilege few can boast to.”

Daniel- no, Danny, chuckled again. “You sound like a kid saying a swear for the first time and they’re really scared of being caught.”

“I am not a child.” He was never allowed to be.

“You are crazy though. And reckless. And that’s coming from me!”

Ah, so Danny figured it out. “You noticed the smell of Atlantean.”

“What were you thinking? They hate sirens. With a capital H.”

“I will not apologise for my actions in there. You needed food. It was my own poor judgement that got you injured, so it was my responsibility to rectify that.”

Danny was quiet for a moment. “I’m really trying to channel that ‘angry because I’m worried about you’ energy that my sister does, but you’re making it really difficult. Now I just feel bad.”

“They posed no threat to me. It was an easy operation.” Damian said. Danny sighed again.

“What am I gonna do with you? Outside of taking you home, that is.”

“For one, you could unhand me.” Damian’s words were hollow, even to him.

“And let you freeze to death? No chance. Now come on. The sun’s about to rise, and you need your breakfast.”

“Have you eaten enough yourself?” It would not do to let this foolish teenager hurt himself for Damian’s sake again.

“Dude, I’m like triple your size and age right now. It’s my job to be worrying over you.” Damian harrumphed.

It felt nice to be cared for again.

LINE BREAK BABY

Bruce hung up the phone. Dick was about ready to riot, and the others were on a wire-thin line too. It was one of the most exhausting calls he’d done in his life, but it had to be done. He wasn’t going to leave his family in the dark, not after Jason.

It wasn’t just he who had potentially lost a son, however. In his hours of maddened searching, he’d glossed over the fact that the son of local siren hunters, the Drs Fenton, had also gone missing. Tim was already on the case, sifting through thousands of hours of CCTV footage to analyse the kid’s behaviour of the course of the last six weeks. Two unrelated boys going missing at the same time. And one boy had been displaying suspicious behaviour for months before hand. Something was up.

And so Bruce straightened his tie. He refused to wear any form of black. Not now, not yet, while there was still hope to be clung to. His trip to Fentonworks was in part to share condolences, and in part to investigate. Wherever Damian was, the clues lay somewhere surrounding Daniel Fenton.

He just hoped Damian had to be ok. If this hope died, Bruce felt like he might die with it.

Chapter Text

Underneath the hot summer sun, Damian lay fat on Danny’s belly as the older boy lazily drifted underneath the water’s surface. Well, drifting was a strong word, as Damian estimated they were still going at about 20 miles an hour, but considering Danny’s top speed, it probably was like a peaceful drift.

The ocean water was crystal clear, all the way down to the shallow floor beneath them, as patterns shifted and ebbed with the movement of the waves. It was very much welcome change from the dark ravine they’d just evacuated.

They swam close enough to the surface that Damian could occasionally peek his eyes over the water. It was probably the first time he’d touched air since he woke up a changed being. It felt hot, quite hot in fact. Damian looked up to the sun, before quickly ducking back down as the harsh glare blinded his sensitive eyes.

“You’ll get used to it.” Danny had said. Damian resigned himself to idly batting away at the surface, watching the streaks and waves created by the speed of his hands pushing the water apart.

It was amusing. The peace helped to keep certain thoughts out of his mind for a little. But Damian was nothing if not decisive, and he would put the concerns that nipped at his fins to rest.

“I take back what I said. Earlier.” Damian muttered.

“Sorry, what?”

“About you being a poor excuse for a hero. All I have done is antagonize and belittle you, and yet you still choose to burden yourself with me.”

“Damian I feel like we’ve been over this.”

Damian crossed his arms. “No, that was for leading you into danger.”

“Well your forgiveness coupon extends to past grievances too this time.” Danny said, a ghost of a smirk gracing his translucent skin.

“You have shown a great heroic spirit. When I came to Amity Island, the reports of your character were confusing, and contradictory. Now that I have seen your actions with my own eyes, I can see the truth…”

“Aw, Damian…” Good grief, he was about to start getting mushy again. Damian had to stop this.

“You are just as much an obnoxious goody two shoes as my eldest brother.”

“You know? I’ll take it, backhanded compliment or no.”

Damian slapped his tailfin on Danny’s stomach. The older boy only laughed, that same obnoxiously contagious mirth that only Richard could produce. Damian lowered his head into his crossed arms, disguising any peeking grin with a pout.

Knock, knock, knock.

Bruce Wayne had made a note to visit Fentonworks sometime during their visit, but circumstances have moved that trip up his timeline. He took in the maddening contraption that was this building. There was no building code in the world that would allow this thing to stand. Above the brick and mortar, winding metal pipes lead into what appeared to be a huge radio tower complete with observation deck. Bruce could practically feel the stress those pipes had to take. It was so top heavy it was a miracle a stiff breeze hadn’t knocked the entire house down. He would definitely not want to be the poor sap who had to enforce building codes round here. Considering the Fenton’s penchant for shooting first, it would not be surprising if they had shot at them, likely yelling accusations of “collusion with the sirens!”

However, these people were his best lead, and he needed to follow it. For Damian’s sake, and for his.

The door swung open, revealing Maddeline Fenton in her signature jumpsuit, the hood pulled down and hair slightly disheveled. From the search, or out of worry for her wayward son?

It had been a good twenty-four hours since Damian had been dragged into the water by an unknown party. The moment Bruce noticed the beeping alerting that Damian’s tracker was going critical, he went into Batman mode right then and there, rushing to the scene of the crime. However, what he found instead was fourteen-year-old Daniel Fenton standing over the peer, a haunted look on his face.

Bruce had asked him if he was ok, before local authorities separated then and corralled them away from the scene, setting up tape and warning signs. Bruce verbally wrestled with them, demanding to let him see if his son was alright. However, as far as they knew, he was just a normal man, in no way equipped to dive into the depths and fist fight sea monsters.

It was at times like this that he cursed the need for secrecy.

Bruce didn’t see Daniel Fenton again. When he asked around, nobody had either.

Barred from joining the search physically, Bruce was given free access to the security footage in the area, searching in conjunction with other investigators, as per his insistence. While he recovered barely anything useful for Damian, it did show Daniel’s last appearance being around ten minutes after Bruce had found him. Daniel had slipped out of the crowd, last seen heading toward the cliff-face on the far side of town. Bruce sent off the info to the police and GiW as soon as he found out.

That lead him here. To console, but also to interrogate.

“Oh, Mr Wayne! We weren’t expecting you.”

She led Bruce into the living room, seemingly a very normal and domestic place, but a closer look revealed dozens of spare parts scattered around tables and desks and shoved to the side to make room for more unfinished inventions. The living room was adjacent to the kitchen, and Bruce could almost swear he saw glowing blue slime dripping out of it.

“Jack! We have a guest!” Maddeline called out, before inviting Bruce to sit down with some tea. “I’m terribly sorry, we weren’t expecting visitors. And I’m so sorry about your son. That close to shore, our preliminary bouy should’ve been able to detect the attack. We’re not sure what happened…” she trailed off.

All these facts Bruce knew well. He had been briefed on them in the early hours of the search, while there was still much hope to be hand.

“Actually, Dr Fenton, I was visiting to give my condolences about your own son. I know with all the talk about such a high-profile case, it’s easy for other cases to be swept under the rug, but that would be unfair for you.”

Madeline’s face warped not into sadness, or depression, but confusion. “Excuse me? Danny’s been staying at Tucker’s house at the weekend.”

Bruce opened his mouth to interrupt, but Madeline beat him to the punch. “Sorry, please give me a moment.”

She rushed over to an old landline hanging by the wall next to a pair of precariously placed prototypes for some kind of futuristic gun. Rapidly punching in what he recognized was the Foley house’s number, Madeline yanked the phone out of its receiver.

“Angela? Angela, is Danny there, I need to speak to him… What?!” Madeline’s face twisted into shock. Her left hand cradelling the landline, her right hand stroking her hair repteadly. “Danny told me he’d be staying at your house. Yes, yes. Please do so. Thank you Angela. I’ll call Pamela now.”

She hung up. Another rapidly inputted number later, and a second call went through. “Pamela, I’ve been told that Danny’s been staying with Sam. Is he there? I urgently need to speak to him.”

This time, the response was very audible. Bruce could hear a raised, ranting voice, a far cry from the sickly sweet dulcet tones ‘Brucie’ Wayne had been subjected to the night before. “Pamela I need you to listen to me. Danny told me that he’d be staying with Angela. Angela told me that Tucker told her that they’d be in your house. And now you’re saying Sam’s taken them all to a camping trip on the mountain? Yes… yes. I know.”

Just at that moment, Jack Fenton, barreled into the room, emerging from a set of stairs leading into the kitchen, a tray of chocolate fudge cookies steaming in his gloved hands.

“Brucie Wayne!” The man put down the tray of cookies and rushed over to Bruce, where Bruce’s hands were almost crushed by the vigorous handshake the man gave him.

“Listen, Brucie,” Jack Fenton’s voice lowered. “I really wanted to say we’re sorry abou-“

Before Jack could finish what he was saying, Madeline grabbed him by the collar. “We have to go, Jack! To the SAV!”

Bruce stood up. “I’m coming with you.”

That might have been a mistake. Jack Fenton grabbed his hand again with that bone crushing grip and pulled him outside. Madeline pressed a button on a remote, revealing a garage housing the scientific marvel and engineering horror of the Fentons’ hand-crafted and customised tank of a… duck boat.

The exterior was sleek white with silver lines, with reinforced tires on the bottom and a hull wide enough to float on water. The top sported a radar dish, and Bruce identified several seams all across the boat, likely where some of the numerous weapons the Fentons made were hiding.

Of course, Bruce had seen this thing in action before, and the only thing worse than Jack’s sailing was his driving.

“Come on Brucie, we can talk more on the way!”

Meanwhile, in the middle of the ocean…

“It is pitiful how much Richard adores that, that Jaws film.” Damian’s disgust is palpable in his low glare, a disgust mirrored by Danny’s own gag.

“Dude, no way. I hate that fuckin’ movie so goddamn much. Imagine making a movie where tiny puppies start mauling people to death for no reason!”

Damian nodded, sagely. “It is anti-shark propaganda in the finest, and its disavowal by its direct is incredibly telling.”

“I think the Dolphin Mafia were behind it.” Damian considered this thought. How he would love for that to be true, so he could sink his teeth into some dolphin flesh in revenge for what they did to him and to shark reputations worldwide. “Like dude! Sharks are the cuddliest fish on the planet! They don’t even fight sirens, let alone humans. Pretty sure sea urchins cause more injuries. Hell I think the siren attack numbers are about to overshoot them.”

“If the Dolphin Mafia do exist, I will make it my mission to hunt them down, and devour them all.” Damian said with fatal finality.

A beat passed. Danny blinked. “Dude, aren’t you a vegetarian?”

“… Perhaps.”

“Isn’t it like, a moral thing for you? Don’t tell me the siren instincts are messing up your brain chemistry. I literally wouldn’t know how to explain that to Bruce and I’m already fearing for my life.”

“I am of my right mind. It is just that I intend to slay them regardless, so why let their flesh go to waste?”

“You know stuff doesn’t go to waste in the ocean? Like, if you don’t eat it, there’s a million other tiny organisms waiting in line for you. That’s how the freaking ecosystem works.”

Damian considered these words. While yes, it was a relief that killing the Dolphin Mafia (if they did exist) would not necessitate their consumption to prevent wastage, it was oh so tempting to dominate them in the traditional fashion of supreme ocean animals…

“It is worth considering. I will ponder my decision at a later date.”

“I’ll pretend that isn’t utterly scary.”

Damian’s thoughts turned to another pod of dolphins… “That being said, I should like to relieve Skulker of his hunting dolphins. He is likely mistreating those animals, and they do not deserve it.”

“You mean hunting… doglphins?” Danny said with another infuriating grin. Damian went to bad it away, only to get stopped by the older boy holding him back with a finger.

“Let me finish my point! If you intend to continue making inane puns, this journey will be difficult.”

Danny laughed.

“I am serious!”

Danny laughed again, provoking Damian to launch himself at the older boy’s face with a snarl. The boys tumbled and tussled through the water as they play fought…

Bruce was beginning to get nauseous.

His pleas for safer driving went largely ignored. “Sorry Bruce it’s an emergency!” Which left him to helplessly cling to his seat for dear life as Jack pulled sharp turns at top speed, and barrelled through barricades.

The SAV’s alarm sirens (how ironic) blared at full volume as Madeline’s voice blasted through a megaphone. “This is a siren emergency! Please be on the lookout for Sam Manson, Tucker Foley and our baby sweetkins Danny Fenton! HOLD ON TIGHT BABY BOY, WE’RE COMING FOR YOU!”

Scanning the streets for the teens while praying for God for safety from a civilian’s driving was not on his agenda today.

“You doing ok back there, Mr Wayne?” Madeline asked. Bruce grimly nodded.

Jack Fenton swerved through a roundabout, heading for the mountain.

If Bruce’s intuition on teenagers was worth anything (and it had to be worth anything, considering the years he spent wrangling some of the craftiest, most rebellious teenagers on the planet), those kids were definitely hiding something. He just had to find out…

Chapter Text

Jack Fenton’s mad driving had them racing up the mountain path. Bruce couldn’t even enjoy the beautiful scenery as every corner seemed to invite a brush with death. He wasn’t sure if the orange man was insane and lucky or one of the best drivers he’d met in his life. In no time at all, they reached the top of the mountain, a noted campsite for many an adventurous teen or young couple.

Many teens, except for the missing trio at this moment.

Bruce already knew Daniel Fenton wouldn’t be here in all likelihood. And if he wasn’t here, there was little chance his two closest friends would, either. No, it was almost certainly a lie to disguise some other kind of activity, but it didn’t sit right with him that they might be doing something normal for a rebellious teen. Gangs, drugs, petty vandalism, dares. Something about their secretive demeanour and false aloofness pointed to a more fantastical answer. A more dangerous one.

As Bruce and the Fentons hopped off the SAV, they confirmed his suspicions. All he could see was trees, campfire stones, and bits of litter.

From his profile of Sam Manson, she would never tolerate such a thing. Every time he saw her, it was a protest of some kind, or loudly accosting litterers and people wearing leather jackets and carrying crocodile handbags, which practically confirmed his suspicions.

“Let’s spread out, we’ll cover more ground, and then meet back here in ten minutes.”

Ten minutes later, the three parents returned to the SAV, utterly empty-handed. Jack looked distraught, and Madeline was idly squeezing the handle of another gun. He hadn’t noticed that before. How many weapons did these people have?

“No sign. Nothing. Zilch.” Madeline muttered. “Why would they lie to us?”

Why wouldn’t a teenager lie, to be honest?

“Have you ever seen them do anything strange or out of the ordinary?” Bruce asked, the softer voice of a worried father.

Jack gasped. “What, like drugs?! Gangs? We chased those suckers out of town years ago! Danno would never get tangled with them!”

That was a story that Bruce would probably have to look into later.

At the same time, Madeline’s brow furrowed. “He did go missing half a year ago…”

Jack’s expression softened. “Yeah, kid was so shaken he never spoke about it. Can you imagine? Gone for a week, then shows up back home outta nowhere and didn’t even wanna talk about it.”

Bruce nodded, understanding fully what they had felt. Jack punched his open palm. “I oughta find whoever was responsible and tear them apart. Molecule by molecule.” His body slumped, voice losing its vigour again. “But Jazzy told us it was only gonna hurt him, pressing for info, so we haven’t.”

“After that, his grades started dropping. Danny’s a genius I tell you. A Fenton in every way, but after we got him back, he started skipping class, and making vague excuses all the time…” She shook her head and sat down, body seeming to gain days of exhaustion in a second. “It’s like he’s changed, somehow.”

Bruce considered this info… Sixth months ago? The timeline was suspicious. Six months ago, Daniel Fenton had gone missing. A week later, he shows up out of nowhere, refusing to speak of his experience. Soon after, sirens began to terrorise the city, with Phantom playing sometimes hero, sometimes criminal. Daniel Fenton’s behaviour changes drastically. Daniel, his two friends and Damian disappear on the same day. What was the connection?

Jack Fenton crouched on the ground beside his wife, frowning. “But that’s surely gotta be some kind of trauma response, right? That’s what Jazzy always says.”

“Maybe…” Bruce muttered.

Jack picked up on this, and looked up to where Bruce was still standing. “Maybe what, Brucie?”

“No, it was just a curiosity I had. I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering about Phantom. Didn’t he appear six months ago too?”

Instantly, the Fenton parents scowled. Madeline clenched her fist around the gun. “That damned fishboy. He parades himself as a hero but we all know he’s a menace! Just last week he stole one of the prototypes for the Fenton Wrist Ray! How?! He doesn’t even have legs!”

And that right there was the big question, but there were a few hang-ups before he could move forward with his theory.

“I thought some of the previous sirens who attacked had legs.”

Jack shrugged, his hands making a so-so motion. “Well it’s actually kind of interesting. See, sirens’ bodies are based on a-“

Maddie laid a hand on his shoulder. “Honey, maybe we should keep the explanation short this time.”

“Right! The answer is we don’t know!”

Madeline face-palmed. “Some sirens demonstrate the ability to shift between their true form and a human-passing form. That being said, we’ve never seen Phantom’s human form, so we don’t even know if he can’t, or just hasn’t. We know for a fact there are some sirens that straight up can’t shift, but what determines that fact is unclear.”

Bruce hummed. A moment of pause before the next thought. “What if he didn’t need to shift?”

The Fentons’ mouths gaped open. “Are you saying…?”

“The last time I talked to your son before he disappeared, he didn’t seem to share most of your opinions towards the siren race. He seemed… evasive.” More than that. Daniel Fenton looked like he had the world on his shoulders, and he couldn’t share it with anyone. Or rather: couldn’t share it with his parents.

“That’s impossible! Danno would never-” But Madeline interrupted her husband.

“He has been running off a lot. Jack, how else would our inventions get into Phantom’s hands?”

Jack Fenton stared at his wife for a minute, eyes slowly opening in horror. “Floundering fishes. The punk’s brainwashed him!”

Bruce waved his hands back and forth frantically. “Maybe that’s going a bit far, don’t you think? I’m sure there’s-”

Madeline grabbed his arm and yanked him into the SAV with surprising might. “No time! I know where the kids are!”

Bruce startled, even as Jack Fenton jumped into the driver’s seat. How on earth did she make that deduction?

Of course, he didn’t doubt their intelligence, only their sanity. They were smart enough to figure out all of this tech, but detectives they were not (the profile he had done on them was thorough). Perhaps he underestimated them.

Hold on, what was he thinking? His deduction was that the kids were somewhere on the coast, in one of the many coves around Amity Bay, where they likely snuck out often to contact Phantom.

In that case, why on earth was Jack not turning the duckboat around?

“Dr Fenton, what are you doing?!” The high-pitched squeak at the end of his question was regrettably not entirely fake.

“The fastest way to rescue the kids!” Jack said, a manic gleam in his eyes visible via the rear view mirror. The mad scientist slammed the gas. Bruce’s seat slammed into his back. The billionaire braced himself.

The SAV charged through the campsite, weaving in between trees and rocks and debris. Up ahead the woods cleared to reveal the ocean over a cliff.

Jack did not slow down. He sped up. The cliff came closer. And closer. Jack sped up further.

There was no longer any ground beneath the wheels.

We cut to preserve Bruce Wayne’s dignity.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the ocean…

Damian scanned his left. He scanned the right. He glanced up into the clear sky. He peered down at the dark. He took a peek behind his shoulders. With his decision made, he made his declaration with poise and finality.

“I spy with my little eye, something b-”

“IT’S THE WATER!”

Damian’s eye twitched.

Danny nodded eagerly, like a lost puppy begging for attention. Scratch that. Lost puppies were far more lovable. “Come on. It’s the water, right? Right??”

“I spy. With my. Little. Eye. Something beating. You imbecile.”

“Crap. Uhhhmm…” Danny blinked, eyes turning sky high as he searched for answers. “Is it a bird? Because some people call their movements wingbeats.”

Damian’s jaw dropped. “No! It was your heart! Your heart beating!” He punctuated every word with an aggressive tap at Danny’s translucent chest, a still frighteningly visceral display case for his blue heart.

“That’s stupid! I could’ve come up with a better one!”

“The last three you did were the water, the sky and the sun respectively.”

“I said I could, not that I would!”

…

“I do admit. I did not account for birds’ wingbeats.”

“HAH!”

Back to the parents…

Never had Bruce ever feared for his life more than what just happened.

May he never speak of it again.

“See Brucie? Jack Fenton is an ace driver. You’ll never fear for your life in my capable hands!”

Madeline nudged her husband. “Honey, focus.”

“Oh sorry. Where to, sweetie?”

“The cove!”

Bruce shook the adrenaline off. Back to business. Coincidentally, he’d just received a pertinent message from the Cave.

“Hey B.” Tim’s voice filtered through the tiny ear piece Bruce kept at all times, accompanied by rapid clacking, almost fast enough to merge into a continuous clackackckackackack. “Half the footage you sent was corrupted. I saved the other half, but I haven’t been able to look through it. Currently fighting a hacker and trying to get back into Amity’s servers. Just got a breakthrough though. He’s based in Amity, currently location: the cove just underneath the mountain on the main island. RR Out.”

Bingo.

That cove being a hollow space in the mountain carved out by seawater and erosion. There was a small waterfall covering the entrance and obscuring view. As the SAV drove past the barrier, Bruce heard two gasps of shock.

There they were. A black boy in a yellow shirt and red beret, skin caked in sweat, hunched over a desk with a laptop glaring brightly in the otherwise-dimly lit room. Beside him, a pale girl in all black, clutching an old tome and glaring viciously at him.

But where on earth was Daniel Fenton?

And where was Damian?

Chapter Text

Tucker’s fingers flew over the keyboard as sweat rolled down his eyes. The cave was supposed to be cool and damp, but he felt as if placed under a heat lamp. Lines of code, addresses and file names filled the screen. New windows and notifications popped up faster than he could chase them down. The presence of his giant in the hacking world crept closer and closer. His chest cramped from heavy breaths. Sam was barely a few feet away, muttering an incantation, but the distance felt like miles. Each new line of code seemed to shift the walls of the cave inwards or outwards depending at random. He kept going. He couldn’t stop. Not with Danny out there and alone.

He always thought himself as good at hacking. Good with tech. The guy who could turn Skulker’s suit into puppetry. The guy who could out-hack fucking Technus. But maybe he was always just a small fish in a small pond. As the enemy hacker closed in on Tucker, each wave surrounding him, infiltrating like rats into a battered house of cards.

Tucker knew it was inevitable, but to see it happen was something else.

The enemy hacker got it. Got everything Tucker had ever stored on this laptop. His location, his destroying of evidence. His tampering with the sonars to ignore Danny. His attempt at erasing the video footage showing Danny sneaking off. Everything was in the hands of a stranger whose face Tucker would never see.

The only thing keeping him from fully breaking down was the comfort that the real incriminating data was safely locked away in his room, on a server that would brick itself if anyone other than Team Phantom tried to get in. That he made sure of, not just with tech, but with Sam’s spells.

It was cold comfort, though. Not a complete catastrophe, but still fucking awful.

Tucker sat back, watching glumly, helpless to do anything more. His deletion program ran in the background, destroying everything, but it was too late anyway.

Sam growled in frustration. “It’s not working. This stupid Mercator Projection map is fucking with the spell. I can’t tell if he’s in Hawaii or Mexico City.”

She crumpled up the cheap map they’d bought from the tourist shop and stomped on it with a thumping vengeance. They would’ve brought an entire globe, the bigger the better, but that would get them noticed, and flying under the radar was the whole point.

“Any luck?”

Tucker gestured to his computer, about to be bricked again. “This guy’s a monster. A monster. I’m like a tiny ant compared to him. Every time I make a move he’s made fifteen more.”

“There’s gotta be something else we can do. Come on, Tuck-”

Then the waterfall sprayed over the cove, revealing the Fenton Family SAV.

Shit.

He and Sam locked eyes in a second. Then they broke eye contact. They and Danny had gone over plans for what to do if certain things happened. If someone stole the files on his servers. If someone followed Danny without noticing. If someone found their cove.

Above all else, above everything else, don’t tell them about Danny. Don’t even hint towards it. Play dumb and obfuscate.

Tucker realised belatedly that they never got to practice all of those plans.

Mrs Fenton leapt off the bow, and marched like a woman possessed. Her eyes narrowed. Her shoulders squared up. Her jawline set.

Tucker felt like he was going to die.

“Where’s Danny?” Mrs Fenton all but ordered. “Where is he? Is it true? Is it true that that- that- that Phantom brainwashed all of you into helping him!? What did Phantom do to him?! What happened to my baby?!” Each question echoed louder, more panicked than the last.

What was the rulebook for this situation again?!

Tucker’s mouth dried. Every millisecond not responding put the fear of God into his heart. “Who the heck is Phantom?”

Mrs Fenton’s expression hardened further, if that was possible. Wrong thing to say, fuck.

Sam stepped in front of him, pose defiant, but arms shaking just enough for Tucker to notice. “That’s what we’ve been doing. We’ve been looking for Danny because the adults sure as fucking hell won’t.”

Looking for him, and Damian Wayne, but maybe bringing him up was going to be more trouble than it was worth, seeing as behind Mrs Fenton, Danny’s dad and holy shit was that Bruce Wane trailed up behind her. If it weren’t for the situation, Tucker felt like would’ve died anyway from meeting his idol.

Mr Wayne spoke up next. “I’m sorry we neglected the case of your friend, but you should’ve informed the authorities as soon as you suspected. How long have you known and not told anyone?”

Because telling people about Danny would land him on a VIP seat in the operating theatre! Because it was your freaking son he was trying to save?

Tucker couldn’t tell them that. What could he tell? He clenched his jaw like a vice, searching for a way out of this…

“You guys don’t get to tell us what to do.” Sam ground out. “We’ve been helping Phantom protect this freaking island from the sirens for months, with no help from any of you.”

Right! Good work Sam. Just a tiny hint of the truth and the real secrets stay hidden. Sam, he could kiss her right now (not that he’d ever want to).

Mrs Fenton raised her voice. “Samantha, we’ve been over this. Phantom isn’t a hero like Batman or Wonder Woman or Superman. He’s an inhuman monster staking claim over a territory. He’s tricking you kids!”

“Phantom’s saved us more than we could count! He’s risked his neck for this town.” Sam spat out, squaring up to Mrs Fenton on her steel-toed boots.

“He’s protecting his assets! If Phantom is such a protector, then why would he threaten the mayor, lead the invasion of town and work with Showenhower!?”

“It was all just a m-misunderstanding, Mrs Fenton, I swear!” Tucker said.

Mrs Fenton continued. “And now Danny’s gone. We know he’s been supplying Phantom with our inventions. Don’t you try and play dumb with us, young man. We’ve seen the footage of Danny sneaking out.”

Tucker’s blood ran thinner, and thinner. The cold sweat returned in full force.

Mr Wayne came between them, trying to put space between the two, without much success. “Please, if Phantom is hurting or threatening you in any way, it’s ok to tell us. We can keep you safe. We just need to know what happened to Danny.”

Sam gulped. Loud enough that even Tucker could hear it. It was at times like these Tucker wished Danny’s parents were as inattentive as they were made out to be by the public.

Their silence spoke volumes enough. Tucker wasn’t Batman, and neither was Sam. They didn’t have the chops to talk their way out of this, not enough Charisma to hit the DC checks, but they were also cornered here by the adults. One way or another, Tucker feared for Danny’s secrets.

Mr Fenton spoke up next, his voice uncharacteristically contemplative. “When I showed Danno the new security system and cameras in the lab and arsenal two weeks ago, it felt like he wasn’t as pumped up as I was. At first I thought it was nothing, but looking back it almost looked like fear.”

Well duh! You were showing him all the stuff you were gonna use to tear him into itty bitty pieces! Who wouldn’t be afraid for their life?!

Bruce Wayne crouched to their level, eyes soft like they were traumatized orphans that he was gonna adopt or something. “Did Phantom threaten Danny into giving him wea-”

“NO!” Tucker shouted instantly. A beat passed. His voice echoed through the cave. Shit. With the way the adults were looking at him, he might as well have said yes.

Sam pushed Mr Wayne away, or at least she tried to. The man barely budged, so she just stepped back from him. “Why do you care?! Already looking for another kid to replace the one you lost?”

The Fentons’ eyes widened, their faces in shock. Mr Wayne looked like he’d been punched through the gut and made into a donut. Ouch Sam, what the fuck?!

His voice lowered into a dark timbre, his expression steely cold. “I don’t want any more kids to get hurt. This Phantom needs to be stopped.”

Sam clutched his hand like a clamp. Tucker’s heart sank. What had they just done?

Please be alright, Danny, and Damian Wayne…

In an ocean far far away…

Damian sniffed the water as he clung to Danny’s shoulders again, his tail wrapped around the black and white boy’s waist. The kid had been doing that a lot lately, sniffing. Claimed it was to hone his senses.

“I believe I can smell Atlanteans.” Damian said. Danny took the moment to verify his suspicions with his own whiff.

“Yeah, looks it.” Danny said. He was a little suspicious though. Damian had refused to speak about what happened in the Atlantean outpost and how he got all this cool stuff. Surely he couldn't have fought them off, so he probably snuck around. Danny couldn’t imagine how terrifying that kind of thing would be. At least he knew his parents and what they were capable of when sneaking around the house and Amity. But Damian was literally just some normal rich kid until all this happened.

“Why do you mention it?” Danny asked.

“I believe we it would be beneficial for us to partake in another raid.”

Danny blinked.

A raid.

“You raided the Atlanteans and got this stuff. Like, legit raiding.” Danny said, dumbfounded.

“I met little resistance.”

Danny needed a moment to breathe here. His gills flexed open and closed.

“And now you want to raid another settlement. Why? We’re still good on food, and we even have veggies!”

Damian shook his head. “We need a map.”

Danny huffed, fins straightening. “We have a map literally up there!” he pointed up at the orange and purple sky over the sunset. The brightest stars were already beginning to show, with many more on the way.

“The Atlanteans likely keep maps of the local area, including human settlements and islands. There we can find further resources, and establish contact with the human world again.”

Huh. That was actually a pretty solid plan. His friends, sister (and maybe parents, if they noticed) were likely worried sick. A phone wouldn’t do them very well in the water, but even just one call letting them know they were ok would do wonders for their mental health.

That still left one teensy, tiny little issue, though.

“But how did you raid them the first time?!”

“It matters not.” Damian said, fins puffing up with pride. “All that matters is that with your skillset, such a mission will be as easy as breathing underwater.”

This kid was having way too much fun boasting of things no kid should’ve been able to accomplish. Then again, he showed some pretty insane marksmanship with the Wrist Ray the other day, so maybe he really did have the chops to back the ego up.

That acknowledgement did not stop Danny from pulling Damian to his chest, and administering a thorough nooggie, however.

Chapter Text

The reality hit Maddie like a truck, once they’d ferried the kids home, and returned to Fentonworks. Bruce Wayne had excused himself, and went back to his hotel after bidding farewell to them.

That left her and Jack alone on the couch. Jazz was upstairs, probably studying psychology and sciences, on her way to be a genius just like her family.

Just like Danny.

Tears wracked Madeline. Jack was openly sobbing at the couch. Not the silly way he would sometimes cry at small things that he would get over quickly. Maddie could feel the bone-deep anger and grief seeping through her and her husband.

She needed to tell Jazz. Tell her what had happened. But she dreaded the thought of talking to her daughter in this state. It wouldn’t do to give her the news and then break down underneath Jazz’s feet.

That thought didn’t do much to stem the tide. Maddie idly reached for the tea, cold from where they’d left it in the afternoon. The realization that this was happening again, again in the family, rocked her to her bones. Maddie’s mind conjured up images of blood over wooden floors, and red hair spilling out and covering still, dead eyes. Claw marks over a bruised throat.

She had trusted Danny. Loved him more than anything. What mother couldn’t trust their child? That sweet boy whose eyes sparkled with kindness and who jumped up and down on dreams of seeing the stars. His kindness meant he gave anything a chance. She had thought she’d lost him. She had raged and tore through everything and everyone and suddenly, through no result of her actions, he came.

And now he was gone again. Taken, just like her great-great-grandpappy. Just like so many others across the world. Just like Alicia’s son. Never to be seen again.

There had to be a way, an answer. There had to be some kind of inconsistency in the data. Something that could show the path forward, a path where her baby boy could still be out there and able to returned home safe.

Maddie descended the stairs into the labs, ready to look over dusty notebooks, and old journals. Jack followed her soon after, not a word exchanged between them.

To say Bruce Wayne was shaken was an understatement. That girl, Samantha, had no idea what she was talking about. All Bruce was interested in was the safety of his son and Daniel Fenton, and the pursuit of justice.

That didn’t mean she would’ve had a point, once upon a time. How Jason came back, but it wasn’t a joyous celebration, but the beginning of more pain, more misunderstanding and accusation. How Damian first came to them. He had a son who had finally returned home, but there was no celebration then either.

They had just started to get along again. They were this close to being happy.

Bruce held his head in his hands. He needed to review the facts again. The facts, the players, the unknowns and mysteries. Damian just had to be out there, he just had to.

Sirens, the GiW, the Fentons… Where to begin?

A message pinged on his comm. It was from Tim. Had he finished sifting through the files?

Bruce opened his laptop, seeing an email with attached analysis and files. Good work, Tim. He knows how hard it must be for him, to dedicate this effort into saving a brother with whom he had a very rocky start.

The email confirmed many of his suspicions. Tim was able to recover the majority of the files that Tucker Foley had attempted to destroy. Damning evidence showed Samantha and Tucker engaging directly against various sirens, using magic and technology respectively. Daniel Fenton was nowhere near such attacks, but his role as supplier to Phantom was clear. At several points over the last few months, the boy could be seen sneaking into secluded areas with experimental weapons and gadgets stuffed into his pockets, that would later be seen in the webbed hands of Phantom.

Daniel was hardly ever seen in the same vicinity as Phantom, or any other siren. That was not surprising. The kid wasn’t athletic in any way like Samantha, nor did he have her talent for the mystical arts. He didn’t have Tucker’s affinity for technology, either. That, combined with the obvious discomfort around his parents’ grudge against sirens meant that it was reasonable he’d avoid being seen around sirens at all costs, while silently supporting them from the background.

The kid had his convictions, was for sure. But what kind of motive would cause the boy to do such a thing? Going against his parents was normal, almost ubiquitous at that age range. Did this trio harbour desires of becoming a hero, like Dick and Jason and all others that followed?

Tucker Foley kept Tim and the Batcomputer out for half an hour with nothing but a laptop. Sam Manson had an incredible drive to do right, and a less impressive sense of restraint (it pained him how much of his children that reminded him).

It was clear they had the hearts of heroes, and the potential too. But those desires landed his children in immense pain over the years, failures Bruce would regret for the rest of his days, and now those same failures repeated once more.

He needed to do this, for them.

The GiW were suspect. He would need to direct the Batcave into cracking their secrets open. Those men could not be trusted one bit. Not their DNA test, not their documents, not their badges. And certainly not for their CSI skills. They didn’t even report whether there were signs of a struggle on the island where Damian’s blood was found!

And for what motives did the sirens even abduct people in the first place? The more he considered, the more the GiW’s explanation of Damian being devoured seemed like utter bullshit. He hoped that was not denial speaking.

Bruce began to plan.

His phone rang. He ignored it. He formed a list of contacts to call upon for advice and consultation.

His phone rang again. He made a web of connections to the Fentons.

His phong rang, rang, rang again. A collage of every unsolved missing persons’ case ‘from the last twenty years.

The phone answered itself on speaker. It jolted Bruce from his work. Alfred’s stern voice sounded out. “Master Bruce, you are spiraling again, sir.”

Bruce hummed. “I’m working, Alfred.”

“Yes, I know. However, in your pursuit to discover Master Damian’s whereabouts, I must remind you that your other children still need their father. Master Timothy is on his eighth cup of coffee, and Master Richard has sent twelve common crooks to the emergency room. Master Jason had to calm him down, sir. They need you, sir.” Alfred stressed.

Bruce stood up, his back cricking from the strain of hunching over documents and files. He stared at the growing pile of papers on his desk and tabs on his laptop, before sweeping them all to the side.

“You’re right, Alfred. Thank you for reminding me.”

Why? Why? Why, why, why, why why? That was the question running through the Fenton parents’ heads as they combed over observations, data, charts, and historical records. The documents and files sprawled out over the floor of the lab. They had to find the connection, if there was one out there.

Why did the sirens abduct humans?

Despite what the goons in white thought, the biologist in Maddie found herself doubting it was all for food. Considering their latest population estimates, the amount of humans required to sustain siren numbers was completely impractical.

Ok, maybe they don’t have to eat humans, but do it as a luxury?

Such a hypothesis would have seemed more plausible, had there not been a plethora of new data counteracting that point. The Amity Island sirens pursued a number of different goals, very few of which overlapped, very few of which involved eating humans in any way. If there was an incentive to eat humans or even just abduct, then far, far more people would’ve been grabbed off the piers and beaches, even if Phantom could stop them all.

That lead to another question. Why would the sirens of Amity not even bother with abductions for the most part, when the majority of sightings and suspected siren incidents were brought to light because of the missing people?

Maddie kicked the wall. The impact resounded and echoed through the room.

Jack wrapped his arms around her waist tenderly, a calm presence. Maddie’s heart relaxed a little, the scent of chocolate bringing her back to warm nights with the kids. “You know this reminds me of a story grandpa Fenton told me about when he was a kid back during the war.” Jack said quietly. “His grandpa used to be a surveyor or analyst or some kind of smart guy at some big factory, makin’ planes to fight the Japanese. One morning he was banging his head on the desk.”

Maddie wasn’t sure where Jack was going with this, but she nodded for him to continue.

“And so Grandpa Fenton asked him, ‘Gramps, what’s the big deal?’ and great great grandpa showed him these pictures. They showed where bullet holes would appear, said it was to design better armour for ‘em. But the strangest thing was that none of the bullet holes were in the engines or near the tail. Gramps was seriously worked up about it! Spent all day pacin’ back and forth.”

Maddie gasped. Jack continued, although trailing off. “Anyway when Grandpa Fenton told me about it, all I could think of was how nice that they had planes comin’ back anyway. Have you seen the casualty rates for those things? Gave me the stuff of nightmares!”

Information whirled through Maddie’s head.

“And that’s how I gave up my dreams of being a fighter pilot!”

“Jack, you’re a genius!” She shouted. Jack blinked.

“Huh? What for?”

Maddie jumped up and kissed her amazing husband. This was a breakthrough.

It was survivorship bias. The reason none of the planes returning had bullet holes in the engines and lower fuselage was because the planes that had taken hits there were too damaged to return in the first place!

They were too busy looking at what they could see and not spending enough time looking for what they couldn’t. Jack’s great, great grandpa needed to look at the situation holistically, and from there it would all make sense.

What did that mean?

Sirens were crafty. And as they learnt from the attacks on Amity, they were petty, ambitious, power-hungry, lustful, and vengeful, among many other insidious attributes.

She and Jack had been fixating on the missing people cases, but what if those cases were only a small number of the illicit criminal dealings these monsters had been unknowably perpetrating in the human world? And if sirens can commit many, many other crimes than mindlessly violence and murder, then that means there could be any number of other reasons they could abduct a human.

If they wanted revenge or to satisfy their bloodlust, would they not have left a body somewhere? But no such body of either Damian Wayne or Danny was found. If they ate the boys, then the blood would’ve attracted sharks, but no sharks were to be found either.

Terrifying scenarios passed through Maddie’s mind. Slavery, trafficking, arena fighting. Any number of horrendous crimes that would not require any spilt blood. Horrors unimaginable for a woman to see her child suffer through. But a tiny, faint light shone through all of them: hope.

Because she had reason now to believe Danny and Damian Wayne were alive, out there somewhere, praying for their parents to come save them from the nightmare.

Jack blinked, expression blank. “You know I don’t mind staring at your beautiful face for hours, but I feel like there’s something you’ve figured out.”

Maddie’s eyes turned steely and determined. “Jack, get the SAV ready. We’re going on a hunt.”

The only one who knew where the boys were was Phantom, and Maddie would extract every secret that menace kept, even if it meant tearing him apart. Molecule. By. Molecule.

Chapter Text

The smell of Atlantean was getting stronger, Danny kept himself and Damian invisible as they perched atop a cliff looking down at the town. He could hear Damian licking his lips. Kid, you literally just ate! Was he thirsting for vegetables or blood?

“Excellent. With your camouflage, we will be able to infiltrate and extract the resources without any trouble.”

Danny waved his hands to cut off that notion. “Hold up. Who says ‘we’ are going to raid the Atlanteans? Why shouldn’t I just leave you here and come back and we can be on our way?”

Damian frowned, fins rattling in offense. “May I remind you who has more experience in this field?”

“True, but your dad might skin me if he found out that I let you become a glorified sea pirate.”

Damian tutted. “What father doesn’t know will not hurt him. Now go! We are wasting time!”

With that, Damian attached himself to Danny’s hip, practically hooking his claws into Danny’s scales. The bloodthirsty theory was beginning to gain traction in Danny’s mind, what with how the kid was audibly purring despite Danny not giving any touches at that moment.

Danny let his invisibility wash over his scales, turning his body from translucent to being one with the water, his powers seeping into Damian’s body and hiding him from view too. Hopefully Aquaman wouldn’t be too upset with them.

The boys approached the Atlantean town from above. Danny’s lateral line pinged dozens olf times. Civilians wandered the streets, peddling wares and chatting about the day. On the far side, trainees tossed javelins and practiced archery while an instructor yelled commands at them.

“There.” Damian whispered. The boy tugged on Danny’s fins, and Danny followed the direction to where the market was. “I believe I spotted a cartographer in the crowd. We should be able to obtain our prize from him.”

As Danny descended and swam just over head of the Atlanteans, his ear fins prickled. Chatter in Atlantean filled the water, none of which Danny could parse out. Hell, even his Pacific Siren was pretty choppy, a fact that Sam endlessly teased him about. Ocean languages were tricky! It wasn’t his fault!

Whatever, point is, Danny spotted the guy. Thin, stocky, wearing a dark blue overcoat and tunic, fit with undersea glasses, carrying rolled up paper underarm. The man shuffled into a small corner shop on the street, a good distance away from the bigger crowd in the market. Danny crept up behind him, careful not to bump into any one.

The shop was nothing impressive, just a humble joint probably frequented by travelers or whatever. Maps of the world decorated the walls, accompanied by globes atop display cases that contained even more charts of the local area. The owner kept his back to them as he bent over a bench and filed away his new acquisitions.

“Now, while his back is turned.” Damian whispered.

Danny swam into the shop through the doorway, careful not to make a single sound. The shopkeeper hummed. Danny compressed his hand through the tiny slit of the display case. He reformed it to its proper size on the inside. He grabbed the closest map and spread his invisibility to it, before pulling it out.

The shopkeeper turned around. Danny’s gills stilled. The man stared at the spot where the map had just been, eyes quirked up. He was none the wiser as Danny turned tail, and exited the shop in swift fashion.

Once out of earshot, Danny let himself relax a little. “Welp, time to get outta here then.”

Damian poked him in the side (thankfully below the gills; that would hurt) and chittered. “Negative.”

“What do you mean negative? We got exactly what you wanted?”

“Not yet. Look.”

…

“You know you’re still invisible, right? I can’t see what you’re pointing at.”

“The seahorses!”

Danny’s face blanched. “You wanna eat the seahorses??”

He felt a whack on his sail. “No, you buffoon. I would like to pet them.”

This kid’s priorities. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of in enemy territory here.”

“I am aware, but I have never pet a seahorse before, and I may not get another opportunity like this again.”

Danny’s jaw gaped open. “If you haven’t noticed, there’s an entire ocean ahead of us.”

“Don’t condescend to me. The seahorses are in our vicinity, and there is no guarantee we will come across another school on our journey. Therefore, we go to them now.”

In all honesty, he should’ve expected the kid to be distracted by his love of animals. Hell, Danny could even relate with his own obsession with astronomy.

“Fiiiiine. But I have a bad feeling about this.”

And so Danny flipped fins and brought Damian to the seahorses, as requested. The little things were floating around a coral reef within the town borders, surrounded by a fence. Architectural features like these always reminded him of Dora’s rants about how Atlanteans were essentially humans, and he could see why. What was the point of a fence when everyone and their mother could just swim over it?

Case in point: Danny right now.

Danny lay down on his belly in the sand, keeping a hand on Damian’s shoulder to keep the invisibility flowing. The sea horses swarmed over him, poking curiously at his fins, sensing the disturbance but not seeing it. One particularly brave seahorse even brushed its tail along his gills. Danny had to bite his lip to avoid gasping or giggling from the ticklish sensation. Damian didn’t say anything, but he seemed to be having the time of his life, with how the seahorses’ manes creased from the kid’s touch.

If Danny flexed his ear fins, he could even pick up the slightest cooing sound from the kid. If he could see the younger guppy’s face, he bet it would be split in a huge grin. Then again, Damian didn’t seem the type to express positive emotion so openly like that, but who knows? Maybe the invisibility’s lowering his inhibitions?

A foot brushed his dorsal fin. Danny gasped from the sudden rough touch on his sensitive fin. Dammit!

Maybe he was the one who should’ve remembered they were in enemy territory.

A child gasped, mouth gaped open as she stared at where his tailfin was. Danny pulled Damian back, getting ready to take off. Yeah this was the part where they got the hell out of dodge.

Only for the girl to lean down and poke him. Right in the gills. Ow.

Danny yelped in shock. His body snapped back into the visible spectrum as the little girl went saucer eyed. Outside the fence, an Atlantean woman stood stunned as she blinked owlishly at them.

He chuckled. “Well, thanks for letting us pet your seahorses, but we really gotta go, so see ya-”

“SIIREEEENNNNNNS!!!!!”

Well fuck.

Sam slammed her fist against the punching bag. Every yell brought forth primal rage, and righteous anger. In her mind’s eye, Vlad’s face ate every punch and crunched with every kick. Skulker’s smug mug got caved in. And most of all, Danny’s fucking parents. Her fucking parents.

Didn’t take Superman to hear them screaming upstairs. Hurling accusations, badmouthing Danny for the six hundred and fiftieth time. “Oh how could he lead our precious Sammykins astray like this?” As if they didn’t do that already!

And now she was grounded. Put on house arrest, even. Tucker shared a similar fate. That just left Jazz to monitor the situation. Luckily, Tuck prepared secret burner phones for them for this exact scenario.

Being grounded also meant they couldn’t search for Danny again. In all likelihood he had probably skipped town. Tucker’s forays into the GiW’s servers showed they were still on the lookout, so that was something to be relieved by. If only she and Tuck actually knew what was going on!

She growled and then transitioned into another scream. How the hell did the Fentons even know where to look for them!?

The anger melted away into anxiety. The conversation replayed in her mind. Half the time she wasn’t even sure what she was saying. That was so close. One slip-up and she would’ve landed Danny on the dissection table, not that the result they got was much better. Danny still had a target on his back, and no one could be blamed for it but her. Six months ago while they were just teenagers in over their heads, the idea of caped heroes coming in to save their asses seemed like a dream.

But now? Bruce Wayne funded the Justice League. The fucking Justice. League. It was like Paulina getting a poor girl who bumped into her suspended because of her dad’s wealth. Only replace the poor girl getting suspended with Danny being turned into scientific sushi by the Goons in White, or even worse: his parents.

Oh, and she pissed him off even more. Sam banged her head against the punching back.

Danny was strong. She was strong. Tucker was strong. They had faith in each other. But as yesterday’s hack proved, there were far, far bigger fish in the ocean. And she would destroy anyone who heard her admit it, but part of her was terrified.

Sam retreated to her room, not even sparing her arguing parents a glance. Once in the safety of her private sanctuary, she retrieved her spell book, and began to research anew. She needed to be in tip-top shape to help Danny and Damian Wayne get home. They were going to contact her and Tucker any day now, and she needed to be ready for it.

Please be ok, Danny.

Maddie finished the last of the software updates to the Fenton Sonars, resetting them and reversing the damage Tucker had done. What were they thinking?! Aiding and abetting some of the most dangerous creatures on the planet. All those PSAs and lectures she knew he had sat in on with Danny and the takeaway he had was to play superhero with a savage beast?!

The sonars pinged. Just as she suspected. No sign of Phantom near Amity. The GiW hadn’t found crap in however many hours of search in the surrounding waters, so the bastard probably fled with his tail between his… tail. Maddie scoffed. Some hero.

But that was perfectly fine by her, because she had Phantom’s hydroplasmic signature.

Switching programs, she accessed the Fenton Satellite’s computer programming. One key stroke later, and Phantom’s signature beamed up to the Fenton Satellite. Maddie grinned darkly.

“You finished over there, Maddie?” Jack asked. Glow torch sparks lit up behind her and cast the lab in stark shadow.

“Yes sweetie, now all that we need left is the hardware.”

On the workbench, Jack carefully welded their newest creation. She took up the spot beside him, and began slotting components in as they transitioned to working in perfect harmony together. Jack glanced at her, and she passed over the wrench. A nano-battery array here. A forty-inch radar dish there. A custom Fenton piston set over there. With two children on the line, they worked round the clock. They tested their new inventions rigorously, then broke them down to rebuild them better.

Phantom won’t know what hit him.

Chapter Text

Danny looked at Damian. Damian looked at Danny. They looked at the smoldering remains of the Atlantean barracks, the scores of soldiers whose feet were frozen to the floor or to each other, bearing incredibly precise scorch marks from the wrist ray (maybe he should take confiscate that soon). They looked at the retreating soldiers, some of whom were openly sobbing. Danny looked at the helmet Damian acquired from their poor Atlantean victims, and the bow and arrow strapped over his chest. He looked at the overflowing satchels full of plant-based food they had plundered from the town. The unluckiest of them sported Damian-shaped bite marks on their exposed skin, a very painful reminder to not enter the kid’s personal space.

“You said we were just gonna get a map.”

Damian crossed his arms and honest-to-god pouted. Or scowled. It was a scowly pout. “It was not my fault you lost control over your powers.”

Danny’s face went blank. “Who was the one who demanded to see the seahorses and stick around even after we got what we needed?”

And you know what? Danny could honestly admit the seahorses were pretty cute. Was it worth risking their lives? Probably not, even if with Danny’s powers, there wasn’t much risk to them at all. It was the principle of the thing.

Damian at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “Is it truly my fault if I wish to admire our planet’s marine biodiversity up close?”

“Yes, Damian. Absolutely.”

“It matters not. Besides, the Atlanteans deserve what happened to them.”

Now that excuse wiped the deadpan off Danny’s face, leaving him in open-mouthed disbelief.

Damian continued. “We have done nothing to them, and yet they regard our mere presence with fear, and take up arms despite there being no hostility from us.”

Danny looked back to smoldering ruins. Granted, it was just a barracks and a few watchtowers, but still. The Atlanteans fear of them was starting to feel a little justified. Did the first settlement Damian raided yesterday suffer a similar fate?

He ran his hands down his face. Scratch the bloodthirsty theory. He was beginning to think Damian intentionally got them caught to have an excuse to wreck the Atlanteans. Then there were the weapons. One look at Damian’s satisfied face as he looked over the destruction practically confirmed it.

Man, kids really were menaces, weren’t they? Maybe he should’ve thought more carefully before agreeing to travel thousands of miles alone with this chaos kid. Was it the siren instincts? Youngblood was similarly unhinged. Maybe it just released his inhibitions.

His distress must have been visible, because Damian tutted once his silence went on too long. “I was being merciful to them. With my skills, I could have easily gut them like the fish I very reluctantly eat, but no longer have to thanks to having plundered their food stores.”

“You know what? I’m not gonna even try to unpack all of that. That’s a job for my sister.” The elder siren patted his shoulders. “Get on, we’ve got places to go.”

Damian beamed as he swam around Danny and latched on, head held high. And honestly? Danny would be an absolute hypocrite if he said he didn’t absolutely enjoy whooping the high and mighty bigots a new one.

“Hey B.”

Bruce could hear the strain on Tim’s voice. Even now, the boy was clacking away at the Batcomputer. He probably hadn’t taken more than a five-minute break.

“Tim.” Bruce said. He considered his next words. He was never one for talking much. It had become difficult to emote strongly after that night in Crime Alley.

“Still hacking into the GiW, and going over missing person cases. Haven’t found anything. I’ll post you when I do.” Tim said, all in work mode. Bruce sighed.

“Thank you, Tim, but I know it’s getting late at home. When was your last break?”

Tim didn’t say anything, but Bruce could practically hear the pout.

“I know you’re worried. I am too, but the Batcave will still be there in the morning.”

Tim hummed, still defiant to the last. “We’re losing valuable time. I can handle it. I handled Damian’s… everything. This is nothing. I’ve only been awake for sixteen hours.”

And wasn’t that half the issue.

Bruce took a deep breath. Countless hours of miming with Alfred, and talking to cardboard cutouts of his children.

“I’ve been worrying, Tim.” Just calmly. Just ease into the words. Don’t freak Tim out or scare him away.

“All you ever do is worry, and now it’s Damian so you’re worried even more.”

“I’m…” The lump in his throat grew. It felt like breaking glass to push through. “I’m worried about you.”

Silence on the line.

Bruce continued, stumbling into dark. “H-How are you feeling right now?”

A chair scraped on the other end., followed by retreating footsteps. “Nope. Nope. Not doing this.”

Bruce’s stress hiked. “Wait, Tim!”

The footsteps stopped, although Tim remained silent. Words, words, words, words. What did his manual say about this kind of situation?

“Thank you. I know you and Damian haven’t been on the best terms. But it… It’s…”

Bruce rapidly flipped through his manual, before deciding on the right word, before Tim could get away. “It’s… I’m proud of you. I always have been. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

The footsteps resumed, twice as fast as before. Bruce could barely make out muttering about coffee hallucinations. That was good, was it? Bruce looked over his checklist over and over again. Surely he hadn’t missed something?

Maybe he needed to review his notes before talking to Dick…

Arthur Curry, better known to the world as Aquaman, regarded the messaged sent to the palace from the Pacific frontier. The kingdom had benefitted immensely once the zeta system and advancements in instant communication allowed for him to easily communicate with every corner of the country in seconds.

The contents were worrying. Very worrying, in fact. He would almost have dismissed it as impossible, if he weren’t keenly aware of how much damage a clever enough child could do. Memories of the various Robins’ exploits around the Watchtower flashed through his mind, giving him goosebumps.

Never again.

It was a luxury which appeared unable to be afforded to him, as an attendant entered the room and handed him a second message, bound in twine and seaweed. Arthur thanked her, and opened the letter.

Another raid by the same child, this time accompanied by a young teenager. A young teenage siren. The local barracks destroyed, several watchtowers toppled, and food stores plundered. The two sirens fled soon after. About thirty injured personnel, but no casualties, and no civilian injuries either, thank goodness.

It was one of the strangest raids parties he’d ever seen. Usually siren pods descended on vulnerable border towns like a landslide, bringing dozens or hundreds of warriors charging through the countryside, pillaging farmland and razing whole buildings to the seafloor. Arthur transitioned to the archives to continue his research, pulling thousand-year-old records from their carefully preserved cases. His earliest predecessors had seen countless deaths to these war parties, before the Atlantean military was formalised and modernised.

The raids also occasionally took hostages. Sometimes adults or the elderly. Usually children. Arthur’s heart ached at his most vulnerable subjects being stripped away from their families. Those hostages taken were often never seen again, even as Atlantean forces made repeated incursions into siren territory to search for them. They would always be repelled back before finding any.

But one pattern was always clear with the raiders. Although those barbarians took Atlantean children for whatever sick purposes, they never brought their own children to fight. Some of his people believed they didn’t even have children, that they spawned spontaneously as fully formed spirits of destruction and rage.

It looked like those theories were untrue. But what circumstances could produce such a strange result? The first report only described a single siren child, who looked to be about five years old or so by Atlantean standards. The second report confirmed the reappearance of that child, now in tandem with a teenager who still appeared very young. Were they brothers? The reports stated the older one had translucent white and black skin, almost like glass, to the point where even his internal organs were faintly transparent. The younger siren sported a dark green coat, and golden fins and highlights. Neither before or after they struck did the soldiers ever catch a glimpse of an adult.

Could they be orphans? Arthur’s heart panged. Even if they were technically his enemies, he hated the fact that children were the victims of this continued conflict. Despite attempts to work out a peace treaty between his kingdom and the sirens, it could never work out. Atlantis was one kingdom with one king, but the siren pods spent as much time squabbling between themselves as with Atlantis.

Outside of their age and lack of supervision, the children also sported another deviation: Their choice in weaponry. While the capital invested in preferred to traditional weapons, favoring especially polearms like the spear, trident and javelin. Siren war bands in the past favored the bow and arrow, using their superior speed to outmanoeuvre and outrange Atlantean soldiers. Many men and women were lost to their feigned retreat tactics, to the point where every new recruit had to be drilled again and again to never pursue ‘retreating’ sirens.

The elder of the two raiders fought with only his magic, firing icy beams and throwing spears of ice. This was where the duo was most similar to typical siren warriors, contrasting against the disciplined and measured sorcery taught to Aqualad and others his age.

What was alarming was how the younger boy fought. He slashed at one poor soldier who got too close with a sword in his first attack. Mauled six others with his teeth in the second. At ranged he wielded a strange contraption on his wrist, capable of rapidly firing concussive energy beams that let him suppress and disrupt soldiers triple his size.

The sirens were never interested in technological development in the same way as the Atlanteans did, and never had they possessed a weapon even close to as advanced as the one sported by the tiny child.

Arthur’s eyes furrowed. Could it be that some third party was supplying Atlantis’ enemies? How long before another army gathered, before the kingdom faced another existential threat like Pariah Dark had once posed?

Arthur’s Justice League communicator vibrated. The king of Atlantis picked up the call.

“Arthur.” It was Bruce. “This is urgent.”

“What do you need?”

“What information has your kingdom got on sirens?”

“What a coincidence, because I’ve just received two new reports from the Pacific frontier…”

“… As for this Phantom character, the culprit of the attack seems to match your description perfectly.”

Bruce furrowed his eyes. He marked the location where Phantom had last struck. The boy was heading south, along the California Current. For what reason? Was he migrating according to his needs as a species, or was he searching for another haunt? Was he going further south or would he turn west once he neared the equator and follow the current there?

Six months of stalking a human town, fighting off other sirens, only to abandon it once the GiW came out in force, and then start marauding Atlantean settlements out of nowhere? Something extraordinary had to have happened. According to Arthur, Phantom had never been seen by his soldiers before. Perhaps Phantom had completed whatever goals he had in Amity, and was transitioning to his next move on Atlantis.

Phantom was young, or at least appeared young. Likely no older than fifteen. The fact that no records show any similar pattern of behaviour ruled out the possibility of it being some kind of coming-of-age ceremony. It seemed Phantom was an outlier among his species.

If sirens travelled in pods, then where was Phantom’s?

“It’s funny you mention that, since he wasn’t alone. There was a tiny child with him. I think he was about five years old or so. The boy carried weapons like a warrior, and blasted my soldiers with energy beams from a futuristic wrist gun. I’ll sent you the sketch the commander sent me.”

Bruce confirmed his receipt of the sketch. His eyes widened.

Emblazed on the gun’s side was a very familiar logo, a flaming blue F for Fenton.

The conversation ended soon after, with Arthur promising to forward him translated copies of the reports.

Bruce clasped his hands, holding them tight as he pondered (not brooded, despite what Dick insisted).

It seemed Phantom’s lack of morality couldn’t sink further. He had manipulated Amity Island teenagers into assisting him, and now he was leading what was basically a toddler half of Damian’s age into dangerous battles against trained soldiers.

Bruce’s will hardened with righteous anger. This Phantom was barely fresh off his last crime before preying on another child. He had to be stopped.

Suddenly he had three children to save now.

Please be ok, Damian…

Chapter Text

Damian lay on his belly on Phantom’s chest as the boy floated just underneath the surface. It was night time, and the Atlantean town they’d sacked was far behind them now. Here they only had the stars to accompany them, wobbling and swaying over the distortion of the water.

They were so close… Damian pushed himself up with his arms. His head breached the surface, water washing over his face like a veil. His eyes widened as he took in the beauty of the night sky, much more comfortable without the blinding sunlight when he’d first tried this.

There was something comforting about the stars, something beautiful outside this world that would be there no matter what, even in his most miserable nights with the League. It was something he missed when he moved the Manor underneath Gotham’s smog-filled skies.

Damian pushed himself further, balancing himself on his tail and hip fins instead of his arms. The gentle sea breeze prickled at his wet scales, causing him to shiver. It brushed against his ear fins and gave a sense of immeasurable calm. Just him, Danny, the stars and the whistle in the wind.

And a feeling of suffocation.

Damian’s lungs demanded air. Or was it water? He inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the sea from above it rather than underneath, but it didn’t help. He inhaled again, but the pressure remained.

What- What was this madness?! Sirens could breathe over water. This was indisputable. Danny had been able to breathe and talk over water the night Damian was transformed. Damian was able to breathe air and talk then. Damian sucked in more and more air, desperately trying to sate the need for oxygen. Why couldn’t he breathe?!

 Damian’s vision twisted. His head spun. His chest felt like knives being stabbed into it.

Hands grabbed him. Danny pulled him back under, where the water provided sweet relief. Damian clutched his chest, as if any moment now he would drown again.

“Are you ok Damian?” Danny’s hands hovered over him, like he was fragile china. Damian scowled.

“Why couldn’t I breathe? What has happened to me?” Damian asked, demanded, heavy with accusation.

“Dude, your lungs are water balloons right now. You gotta empty ‘em out before you can breathe air.” Danny said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Damian’s cheeks burned. He turned his back on Danny and crossed his arms.

“I was aware. I was merely testing you.”

Danny poked him in the sail, the sensitive touch causing Damian to hiss instinctively. “I mean if you’re the siren expert, then by all means!”

Damian did not dignify him with a response. Instead, he surfaced again, determined. Instead of inhaling in panic, trying to pump air into lungs at full capacity, Damian focused on exhaling, on pushing the water out.

His throat cramped with pain. The young siren gargled and gasped. His throat clamped and throbbed, like he was pushing a jagged boulder up. He barely managed to spit out a meagre drop of water before Danny dragged him under again.

The older boy pulled him to his chest, stroking his back as Damian coughed and hacked.

“Ok that was my bad, are you ok?” Danny said, ear fins drooping. Damian wheezed, his eyes closing as the pain abated.

“Do you go through this every time you surface?” Damian shuddered. What would happen to him once he got home? He wouldn’t be able to walk, and now couldn’t even breathe without immense pain.

“Hehe, no.” Danny deadpanned. “You’re supposed to use your gills.”

Danny tapped on his own gills. Instinctively, Damian moved his elbows to cover his. Lately he had been keeping sane by not thinking too much about the creepy feeling of having water flow through the slits in his chest, how exposed and vulnerable it made him feel. How it gave him a glaring weakness that could be easily exploited.

“Just open up your gills, and let the water drain out. It’s that simple.”

Damian sputtered. “What did you say?”

Danny shrugged, like he was explaining grade school mathematics to a two-year-old. “Like this.”

Danny’s gills flapped open. It was only from years of stoic training that Damian did not gag at the sight of Danny’s pale flesh revealed underneath his aquatic breathing apparatus. His eyes trailed to his own set of gills.

“Is there another way?” Damian was not avoiding this issue, nor was he ‘procrastinating’ as Richard would insipidly suggest. He was merely searching for a more optimal alternative.

“We’re sea creatures, Damian. I consider myself lucky for being able to not drown in air at all.”

Damian swallowed the lump in his throat. He was the son of Batman and Talia Al Ghul. He could face this. Being unable to breathe above water would make him a liability on this journey. He had to push through.

Damian prepared to resurface, gathering his nerves.

“Just relax. You can do it, Damian. It’ll be as easy as breathing.”

Encouraged by the prospect of not hearing any more puns, Damian pushed his upper half over the surface. Accordingly, Danny also pushed closer. This high over the water, Damian wobbled as his body adjusted to his weight in the air.

The pressure started to mount on his chest. Damian focused on the slits between his ribs, on the alien feeling of wind blowing into them and hitting exposed flesh. He squinted his eyes and tried to push the water out through his gills. He flexed and contracted his arms and stomach, searching for the unconscious switch in his brain that could activate the write muscles.

It was too much. He went under again.

“This is proving more difficult than I had anticipated.” Damian huffed, chest heaving from strain.

“I can tell.” At Damian’s glare, the older boy raised his hands in defense. “Hey, you looked legit constipated up there. I was starting to worry you’d actually make a mess of yourself. Now, like I said, all you need to do is-”

Damian hissed at the older boy’s mockery. “I can take care of myself. I need no advice to do something as simple as breathing. Thank you.”

Damian glared at the surface, the invisible barrier between this world and the old one, and redoubled his efforts. The pressure came back. Damian twisted his body and nerves, but he couldn’t get a single gasp of air in. He sank. He re-emerged, he suffocated again. Each time Damian pushed himself further, only to be met with the same difficulty. Each time left him sorer, more cramped.

Until after many an attempt, Damian slumped against Danny’s chest, scaled skin warm despite the cold, deep-sea looking appearance. His muscles turned to jelly, even as he feebly pushed against the older boy’s scales for another attempt.

The young siren felt soft hands wrap around his waist. Damian tried to push away, to wiggle out. Danny’s chest vibrated with a low him, and it was like his strings were cut, and Damian’s resistance ceased. All he could do was mutter weakly.

“What are you doing?”

Danny surfaced, arms keeping Damian under, until they began to pull him up too. Damian’s heart accelerated. He could not stop the frightened chitters forcing their way out. His fins went rigid. Was this it? Did Phantom finally lose his patience, and decide Damian was no longer worth the effort? This was bad. He needed to escape and he needed to escape yesterday.

But as Damian began to struggle, the rumbling vibrations from the elder’s chest intensified, and the small boy went limp again. His muscles, sore from exertion and rendered even weaker by the strange biological signal, refused to move. All he could do was tilt his head away, trying to delay the inevitable. Helplessly, he watched the surface creep closer and closer, until he went over.

Damian waited for his death. In his prayers, he apologised to Father, to Richard, even to Drake, for everything. In this moment, as tears pricked his eyes as he was helpless but to drown in fresh, oxygen-rich air, Damian resigned himself.

The pressure did not come.

His chest tingled. Pinpricks poked the skin and outer scales, and along the lining of his gills. Water ran down his chest and over his abdomen. Damian blinked, and looked down.

His gills were open, fully open, gaping wide and exposing his insides for the world to see, but they were open. And water flowed out of them, emptying his lungs. Damian gasped, and felt sweet relief as cold, burning, fresh air finally filtered into his body. His body wracked from the sweet release, chest struggling to accommodate the big greedy gulps he took.

“And now you shut them, keep the air going out the other way.”

Damian nodded glumly. That he could manage. A swift motion, and the flaps of scales and skin shut tightly, leaving only thin lines on his body to suggest that he ever had gills in the first place.

For a moment, he felt human. Even as he actively commanded his breaths, he felt more like a normal human again than he had in the last 48 hours.

“T-thank you.” Damian said, cursing the weakness in his voice. Not to mention how it sounded completely different now, travelling through water instead of air. It was unnerving, but he couldn’t place why. He felt too tired for more riddles about his body. “You have saved me a great inconvenience.”

Danny quietly chuckled. “It was literally what I told you. You need to loosen your muscles to get the water out. This whole time you’ve been all tight and wound up like a spring lock. Dude I think you even sleep all locked up too. That can’t be healthy.”

Sleep was when you were at your most vulnerable. Any threat could walk by and do with you whatever they pleased. In his life, there would be danger at every turn. It was a sentiment he’d expressed to the others in his family when they too voiced the same concerns.

He would never be safe in this life.

A finger poked his cheek. Damian snapped his teeth at the infantilizing gesture, only for it to retreat back just as quickly. He turned around and looked up, muscles no longer rendered limp by the subjugating vibrations.

Danny pointed to the sky, a soft smile on his face.

“It’s a good night to stargaze, isn’t it?” A comet whizzed by in the night, a streak of white trailing behind it, like an artist’s brush across a canvas. Now that he could breathe again, Damian felt an overwhelming sense of calm again, treading water and watching the stars shine.

Chapter Text

Danny caught a distant croon, bellowing deep and powerful from under the waves. “You hear that?”

Danny didn’t wait for a response before he took Damian’s hand and placed him on his shoulder over the water. “What was it? Was it a threat?” The younger boy asked.

“You’ll see!”

Danny sped off toward the origin of the sound. As they approach the source, the rumbling tones of whale song intensified. Danny’s lateral line zapped and tinged as the massive electric field got stronger. Damian shivered on his back, arms gripping tighter. Danny wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t a little scared too, but the excitement made up for it ten times over.

The whales were just ahead. Even with night vision, it was hard to make up their shapes underneath the dark sky, but his lateral line jumped. Danny retreated thirty feet, stopped and treaded water. He held his breathe for the big moment.

A moment later, the whale’s gigantic body smashed the ceiling of the ocean, with the force of a volcano. Waterfalls formed as the sea parted around its head, cascading and crashing thunderously. A plume of water as tall as Fentonworks blasted out of the whale’s back, showering the boys in a wet spray.

Danny’s passenger gasped. He felt Damian’s chin hitting his shoulder. Knew it.

Suddenly, another whale emerged. And another, and another. An entire pod of whales!

“This may be more beautiful than the stars…” Damian muttered.

Danny crossed his arms. “Since you’re obviously an animal kind of kid, I’ll let the blasphemy slide. For now. But I might feed you to the whales if you get testy.”

“Tut. The whales would not want me as food. I would make a much better companion than snack.”

Danny let a smirk grow. His fins stretched themselves. Danny grabbed Damian’s arms and tightened his grip. “Ready to test that hypothesis?”

“What are you doing-?!”

“Hold your breath!”

Danny surged into the water at top speed, then doubled back and rapidly made for the surface, gaining more and more speed until he launched out of the water like a flying fish. His stomach flipped as they went airborne. For a little extra flair, he arched his back and did a flip at the top of his arc. Then gravity pulled.

Danny yelled excitedly. “YEEHAWW!” As they plummeted. Instead of splashing into the water, the boys landed on soft blubber, tumbling and rolling as their momentum carried them forward.

He laughed gingerly, even as Damian crawled up to him and pounched. It was pitifully easy to hold the child at arms’ length as he scratched ineffectually at Danny’s thicker scales.

“Unhand me, you fiend! You will pay for actions! You will pay for disavowing animals in favour of the stars, and you will pay for putting the whales in harm’s way.” The boy said, kitten-like hissing accompanying every word.

“Scratch me harder Dami! Let’s see how bad you can tickle me!” Danny giggled, happily stoking the flames as the chorus of screeching reached a fever pitch.

“Do not call me that childish nickname!” Damian scowled, hackles raising. In an attempt to escape Danny’s hold, the boy raised his tailfin and slapped him over the head. A worthwhile tactic, but Danny had been slapped in the head by much more powerful tailfins before.

“Is the wittle baby getting grumpy over his new nickname?” He snickered. For extra dominance, he flipped himself and squished Damian underneath his body, squishing the boy’s fins flat.

“We shall we who laughs now, fool!” Damian said, And Danny realised his blunder too quickly. Damian turned his head, opened his mouth, and give Danny’s gills a good, long lick.

Firstly: GROSS.

Secondly: HOLY SHIT THAT TICKLED.

Even though they were shut due to being above water, that didn’t make them any less sensitive. The sudden ticklish sensation has him jumping back with a yelp.

With the advantage returned to him, Damian pounced on his weakness. Danny reached out to catch him again, but instead, Damian twisted in the air. The natural mucus of his scales let him slip between Danny’s fingers, where Damian went for the throat. The boy wrapped his body and tail around the older siren’s windpipe, constricting like a snake.

“I hereby declare victory.” Damian said, tiny body radiating smugness.

“Dami. Dami. Please. Can you stop strangling me?” Danny casually requested. “I totally concede, bro.”

Damian tightened his grip. “Only if you apologise.” He harrumphed.

“Apologise for what?”

“Calling me by that childish nickname. Only Richard does that, and he is too stupid to live anyway, which is why I allow it.”

“Aww, did you just call me smart? I’m touched.”

Damian hissed loudly. It was supposed to be intimidating, but man did he sound like a kitten right now. Dora once told him really young sirens even meowed. What he would give to see that happen to Dami.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry for threatening to feed you to the whales.” Danny said, lying with his fingers crossed (a very impressive feat, considering they were webbed).

“And?”

“And for calling you Dami.” He lied again, through his teeth.

“And?”

Danny paused. “Oh, the whales. Dude, we have a symbiotic relationship, it’s literally fine.”

That got Damian to loosen the hold he had on Danny’s throat. “Elaborate.”

“Lots of animals ride on whales, like, ugh, dolphins. And I really need this break. You’re not the one swimming literally all day for hundreds of miles.”

Damian hummed, face scrunching up in deep thought. “We can continue making progress without stopping for the night to sleep. It is a worthy plan.”

“Plus, we can protect these guys from any danger, like poachers or whatever. It’s why they’re been pretty chill with us being here.”

That finally managed to convince him. Damian confirmed his approval with a curt nod. “It is agreeable then.”

Just as he spoke, the ‘ground’ beneath them started sinking.

“Word of warning, you’re gonna have to fill your lungs with water.” Damian blanched. Poor kid. “Don’t worry! I promise it’s not as bad as learning to breath air. Now help me get this harness around the big girl, so we don’t get swept away.”

Jazz Fenton tapped her pencil on her notebook. She tapped it again, and again in a frantic rhythm.

She knew it wasn’t healthy. It was like staring at your empty wallet for hours hoping money would appear out of nowhere instead of finding a job or doing something productive like cleaning up, only she was staring at her messages. Fifty missed calls. If she was honest, Danny’s phone was probably at the bottom of the sea.

Little brother, what have you gotten into this time?

She didn’t have magic, like Sam, or insane hacking skills like Tucker, or superpowers like Danny. All she could do is hopelessly stare at a phone, wishing for things to be ok (but not actually wishing, because who knows when Desiree could be lurking).

The day she caught Danny changing, the day the horrible truth came to her like a revelation from Cthuhlu was the scariest day of her life.

She supposed it was now only the second scariest.

She remembered watching him sneak behind the pier, deserted thanks to an earlier attack, desperate to find some way to help Danny. Jazz laughed at her previous self’s naivety. How she wished it had been something simple like bullying or crushes. Instead, she looked on as Danny stripped down and jumped into the water (she was so ready to run out and reprimand him for skinny dipping. What if someone saw?).

Instead, she went into full-blown panic as a column of bubbles popped at the surface, the horrifying reality of drowning pounding in her mind. But as she’d reached for her phone to call her parents, already in a full sprint to pull her brother out, she saw him.

Translucent skin, blinding white and pitch dark scales. It was from there that the horrifying reality of her situation dawned on her.

How long could she protect her brother from her parents? How long could she protect her family from the truth?

Muffled sounds crept into her room. Metal clashed against metal. Blow torches buzzed. Buzz saws roared. Jazz knew exactly what was going on. Her parents were on the war path. They were making weapons. Weapons to hunt down their own flesh and blood. They had been working, day in and day out. The only time she’d seen them in the last two days was at the beginning of their work spree, when they called her to the living room to inform her of Danny’s disappearance.

Bile boiled in her throat. Jazz clamped her jaw shut. She had to maintain composure, she had to keep calm. But what could she do?

It was not her secret to tell. Danny’s unfiltered fear was as readable as the ABCs. He didn’t even know she was in on it. If she told their parents, he may never trust her again, and rightly.

Jazz put the pencil down, electing to waste time by scrolling news feeds instead. Dozens of articles about the disappearance of Damian Wayne. Barely any lip service for Danny.

Even if she did tell them, she had no reason to be sure it would even work. Their parents loved them. That was undeniable. She saw it in the boisterous cheers when their Dad celebrated their achievements. Both of them. She saw it in the way they dragged her and Danny out on road trips and boat trips and to the psychology seminars and space expos.

But they also loved their work, and hated sirens.

And the scariest thing of all was that, for all she told herself that she knew they would choose their children over their obsession?

Deep, deep down, buried inside her heart in a box she would’ve told Danny was unhealthy to keep, she was uncertain. As she listened to her parents working in the basement, she knew the cost would be too great.

Years of memories flashed by in Jazz’s mind. Each moment, each word and each action put on a scale between acceptance and rejection. Between a happy ending and the most tragic possibilities. But even as she worked and pondered and agonized, she felt the filter of bias and emotion clouding her judgement. These were her parents and her brother. Any analysis of them would be steeped in her own perspective.

If she exposed her brother, and her parents failed the test, it would very well be the end of this family right then and there. And then it might even be the end of Danny. Even if he survived what their parents would try to him, his heart might not.

And if she didn’t say anything? If she allowed her parents to go out there?

The basement had been silent for a while. A knock on the door.

“Sweetie? Can I come in?” Mom said. Jazz’s breath hitched.

“Come in, mom!” She could not hide the naked anxiety.

Her mother opened the door. Her hood was down, revealing disheveled hair and bags under her eyes. “Sweetie, I’ve got news.”

“About Danny?” Jazz asked. She moved to sit on the bed, inviting her mother to do the same. She had to strain to avoid clenching the mattress and showing her stress.

“We have reason to think he’s still out there, that Phantom took him alive for whatever reason.” Her mother said, voice tight. “Your father and I are going. We’re going to track down Phantom, and make him give us Danny back.”

Jazz’s nerves shot up, even though she knew that was what they were planning. Her parents were not passive people. To hear their intentions stated in plain words was a shock to the system.

Her mother took her silence as concern. She laid her hands on Jazz’s shoulder, the same as she’d always do to comfort her. “It’ll be alright, Jazzy. We’ll save your brother, no matter what.”

“When are you leaving?” She asked. Maybe she could sneak in and sabotage their weapons, and give Danny a better chance.

“In an hour.” That was no time at all! Jazz’s forehead went damp. A drop of sweat rolled down her cheeks. “Don’t worry about us, ok? We’ve already asked Vlad to come check in on you and help with groceries while we’re away. I know you’re already a brilliant and inde-,”

“NO!” Jazz yelled out, before cringing at her outburst.

There was no man on the planet she would less like to be alone with than Vladimir fucking Masters. After catching one of their fights, it was very clear that he was the one responsible for what happened to Danny.

“I mean. I want to come with you.” Her mother blinked.

“Sweetie, it’s dangerous, and-”

Jazz thought fast. “Mom, those sirens took my little brother away. I want to get him back too. I can help!”

She narrowed her eyes, and clenched her jaw. She assigned herself a mission to keep her parents away from her brother at that moment. On the outside, it looked like she was pumped to help them get to him.

Her mother paused, her eyes going downcast. Her parents had always tried to get her and her brother involved in their work, in siren hunting, only to be rebuffed as they found their own interest. For her parents, this was what she always wanted, and Jazz could tell the weight her words held.

Jazz pressed the attack. “I can help man the systems. You’ve taken us so many times now. And you’ll need my help to maintain your emotional balance over the course of such a harrowing journey. This is what I was born to do.”

Her mother pursed her lip, a sign she was very convinced, and yet fighting a way to say no.

Loud footsteps behind her. “I say we let her, Mads!” Her father shouted.

Her mom startled. “Jack, honey, it’s too dangerous.”

“The Fentons look out for their family, Maddie. Our little girl’s growing up, Maddie, and if she doesn’t wanna be cooped up in the house and watch us get Danno back, then why should she?”

Her parents stared at each other for a moment. Her dad grinned, and nodded vigorously. Her mother stood firm.

After a while, her posture finally relaxed. “Fine, but promise that you’ll be careful, and you listen to us very carefully, ok? This is a real siren hunt.”

“Mom, we’ve been hit by real siren attacks all summer. Whatever hits us, I’ll be right by your side.”

Right by their side, and sabotaging them every minute of the way.

Her dad clapped his hands. “Welp. That’s settled then! Pack your bags Jazz-pants. We’re leaving in an hour! We need to make the finishing touches, and then the Fentons will set sail!”

It turned out that they were not immediately setting sail as her dad had implied. Her suitcase and belongings safely tucked away in her room on the new and improved SAV, Jazz sat in the back seat as her father’s usual frantic but calculated driving brought them to stop outside Sanchez Hotel. Wait, wasn’t this where-

There he was. Bruce Wayne, somehow looking immaculate despite the stress the man was probably under. He’d probably spent a life-time hiding his emotions away, practicing it like an art form.

Crap, she was doing the thing again.

“You didn’t tell me Bruce Wayne was joining us!” She said, scandalised.

Her mom opened the door for him, greeting him as he settled in the seats, looking more than a little nervous as he double and triple checked his seatbelt.

“That’s because we weren’t sure he’d agree, sweetie. But Phantom took his son too, so it was only natural that we’d invite him. Bruce, meet Jazz, she’s our daughter.”

Bruce Wayne extended a cordial smile and offered his hands. Jazz took it warily. “It’s nice to meet you, Jazz. You can call me Bruce too.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mr Way- I mean Bruce. Sorry.”

“That’s quite alright. You’re very brave for agreeing to come.” He said.

“I wasn’t going to let my parents dash off into the sunset alone. Danny’s my brother too, and I’ve been taught how to operate most of my parents’ stuff.” Jazz said.

She couldn’t catch his next words. Her nerves were rearing up again, instincts yelling danger, danger. She searched within herself for the cause. Then her eyes landed on Bruce’s. And for a moment, just a brief moment, the casual gaze shifted into something intense. Like she was staring up at a scalpel.

And Jazz knew that the playboy personality was an act. Immediately her plans changed. Courses of actions rewritten. Suddenly her mission was about to become much more difficult.

Chapter Text

Damian awoke from sleep. He felt his body squish underneath the weight of Danny’s. The older boy had insisted the previous night, citing Damian’s body being unable to regulate temperature in the cold water at night. This had Damian begrudgingly agree to this arrangement, although he had made his displeasure very clear.

He tried to push down the comfort it brought him. Tried to focus on other things.

Like the fact that he was riding a whale. An entire whale. He even had a harness tied to his waist to stop him drifting behind, the rope wrapping gently around the mammal’s fins and around its body snugly.

This moment? This moment right here was the highlight of his young life. Unconsciously, his chest rumbled and purred as his heart pounded with affection for the beautiful creature.

The whale called out to its pod. It seemed the boys had landed on the largest of the pod, a female (he had checked) and likely the mother of the younger members. Damian rubbed the whale’s skin in soothing circles, its blubber smooth to the touch. There, there, big girl. You are doing an exemplary job.

Each stroke of the whale’s body, undulating through the sea send small shockwaves down Damian’s lateral line, a testament to the size and power of the world’s largest animals (although not the largest organism. That title belonged to Pando). After a while, the rhythm settled into Damian’s bones, like a second heartbeat.

He would have to paint this moment when he got home.

Damian looked behind him. Danny was still out cold after the extensive swimming they had done. It was worth it, though. If Damian’s estimates were correct, they were only a week or less away from Panama. Danny’s swimming speed was nothing short of incredible. It was almost like he was intangible, gliding through the waves with barely a hint of water resistance. Damian had feared it would take a month or longer to get to Panama, considering a dolphin’s long-distance swim speed was only around ten miles an hour, but Danny’s celestial navigation suggested they’d covered about seven hundred miles by the time they hitched a ride with the whales.

Panama was so close… From there it would be smooth sailing, or swimming.

Until then?

Damian untied the rope harness. How many of his family could claim to swim alongside a pod of whales? Using his small, streamlined body, Damian launched off the leader’s body, and dashed in front of her. Despite himself, he gave her a small wave. The whale cooed. Despite not understanding her call, Damian could feel a wave of affection, like a caress through the water.

Damian glanced back at Danny, still fast asleep and snoring. Good.

Looking back at the whale, he focused on their deep, bellowing tones. Opening his mouth, Damian repeated the call as best he could, although it sounded much, much higher pitched than the original.

Much to his surprise, the pod leader called back. Damian smiled in a rare unfiltered grin. The whale answered him!

That was it. He needed to learn to speak whale at the soonest possible convenience. This was of the utmost importance. As a regular human, his vocal cords could never hope to reproduce the calls of a whale, but as a siren, a unique opportunity was granted to him. And he would take it, as befitting his bloodline.

As he contemplated how he would proceed with this plan, his fins slackened, and he found himself lagging behind as the leader swam past him. Damian watched in awe as her shadow fell over his body. He trailed underneath her white underbelly, catching the currents cast by her massive fins, and counted the colonies of barnacles occupying them.

He swam back to circle around the other members of her pod. The baby whales (there were babies too!) crooned to him, and he responded in turn, not sure of what it meant, but wholeheartedly delighting in taking part of a world he’d once considered closed off to him.

A mischievous baby, one he christened Dorothy, bumped him with her nose. The force sent him rearing back. He took a moment to rebalance himself, before she came back for more, playfully nudging him. Hah! Two could play that game. Damian bopped her on the nose, then dashed away. Dorothy gave chase, but Damian was smaller and nimbler.

He twirled in the water, diving underneath an older whale’s belly as Dorothy nipped at his tail. He went up and over the elder’s back. Damian dashed underneath the larger whale’s dorsal fin. Peeking stealthily over the edge, he spotted Dorothy in a state of apparent confusion as his seeming disappearance into thin air, or water.

Serves her right for challenging a master of stealth.

Damian’s lateral line spiked. He turned around just in time to spot a second baby coming for him. Damian tutted. What an amateur. He would have to show them how to properly chase a target. Using his vertical mobility, he launched upward and out of the way. Dorothy spotted him again, and continued her pursuit. Now with two pursuers, and more joining in, Damian laughed gleefully as he led them in twists and turns, using the larger adults as obstacle courses, much to their chagrin. At least that was what he assumed the annoyed-sounding squeaks were.

As much of a fast learner as Damian was, however, he was still new to his body. Damian’s fins flexed at the wrong angle, and his arms bend too far forward, causing him to overshoot his left turn. The green and golden siren crashed head first into the pod leader, briefly floating belly up as stars flashed in his vision.

Immediately the babies descended upon him. Dorothea nudged his body with her nose, sending him floating into her friend, who passed him to another baby just as quickly. Soon the babies formed a circle as they passed Damian’s limp body between them like a game of volleyball. Their actions unfortunately only exacerbated his dizziness, and after a few rounds, Damian was about to test whether sirens could vomit underwater.

A striking croon filled the water, causing Damian’s fins to spike up. However, it seemed the call wasn’t for him, as the baby whales scattered and returned to their parents. Dorothea chittered and gave him one last bump before returning to her own mother’s side.

Damian slowly regained his faculties. He shook off the last of the nausea. That could have been dangerous. They were wild animals, and could have seriously injured him. His father would have been furious.

And he wanted to do it again.

“Yo, Damian!” Danny’s voice called out.

Damian flipped his tail and returned to their miniature mobile campsite in a blur. Danny was snacking on some fish from their last raid. Damian frowned. Their food stashes were already running low.

“Breakfast?” Danny offered him a bundle of seaweed, or kelp. It had a pale yellow colour and sported round sacks along its stems, like bladderwrack.

Damian poked warily at the plant matter. They did not pack this in their supplies. “What is this?”

“It’s sargassum. Plant stuff that floats on the surface. Come try it!”

Damian squinted. He found his stomach stronger than it was as a human, capable of eating untreated raw fish (as much as he would rather not) without so much as a stomach ache.

Damian look a strip of sargassum, feeling the texture between webbed fingers. It was slightly slimy, but soft. He poked one of the bladders, causing its air bubble to pop and float to the surface. As he thought.

“If you’re not gonna eat that, I will. I just swam 700 freaking miles and I’m staaaarving.” Danny whined, a childish gesture.

Damian threw it down the hatch. It tasted… salty (but what didn’t taste salty in the ocean?). The texture was tolerable enough. It was no Caesar salad, or Pennyworth’s casserole, but it would do.

“Hand it over.” Damian gestured for the rest of the plant, and his companion obliged.

Damian chewed absentmindedly as he watched Danny unfurl the map they had ‘acquired’ from the Atlanteans. “So we’re somewhere here.” Danny pointed to a spot in the middle of the blue sea, just off the coast of California. “If we keep going south, we’ll be in Mexican waters, and then it’s smooth swimming to Panama.”

A lump of air pushed up his throat. Damian burped. The beginnings of a snicker were on Danny’s face. The smaller boy held his head high, choosing the high road this time, and maintaining dignity.

“As you were saying?”

“AHEM.” Danny coughed. “We’ve got a bit of a food problem.”

He held up the satchels that they had been using to store their provisions. It was worse than Damian had thought. The bags were practically empty, with maybe a snack and a half between all of them.

He chewed on another stalk of sargassum. Its bubbles popped in his mouth and exited through his nose.

“You cannot swim long distances without sustenance.” Energy could not come from nowhere, after all. The same rules applied for many metas, especially the infamous Flash family. They had left their last stop with bundles of supplies, quickly consumed in the matter of hours.

“We need to hunt again.” Danny concluded. “And get some more seaweed.”

Tut. Damian’s fins drooped a fraction of an inch. It was a shame to leave the whales behind already, but they were always going to go off on their separate paths. He just wished they could stay a little longer.

Danny shifted his sitting position. “To be honest, I’m still getting cramps in my tail. 700 miles.” He said breathlessly. “I never knew I had it in me.”

“So our goal is to recuperate, and resupply.” More quality time with the whales! A couple air bubbles slid out from underneath his gills, the ticklish sensation sending him shuddering.

“Yeah pretty much. Now if you don’t mind me, I’m gonna take another nap.” His companion curled up into a large circle, using his tailfin and arms as a pillow, and closed his eyes.

Damian gaped open. “But you just woke up!”

“700 miles, Damian. 700 miles. We can hunt when I wake up.” With that, Danny was out like a light. Even Damian nipping at his sail could not convince the teenager to awaken.

Damian turned around. The baby whales had returned, hovering just out of reach, apparently having been watching the conversation aptly. He supposed this arrangement had its benefits. Damian whistled, and launched off again.

Satellites.

Her parents had fucking satellites.

That answered how they were going to track Danny. Jazz stared wide-eyed at the computer screen on the deck of the SAV, showing a digital rendition of the entire globe. Off the coast California, about a thousand miles south of their current location, a dot blinked black and white. Jazz’s blood went cold. They had her brother’s hydro-signature. They could track him wherever he went. There would be no hiding, except by turning back into a human, but how could she tell him? And how could he accomplish that goal in the middle of the sea?

Jazz could only gape slack-jawed while her father ranted endlessly about their new radar system, a genius innovation created by her mother in just a day. Isn’t she amazing, Brucie? I’ve got the most beautiful, brilliant wife in the world. Just look at the wiring in this baby.

Bruce Wayne nodded dumbly, remaining silent for the most part, occasionally scratching his head and asking a question. He was listening very intently. No one else could hope to endure her father’s rants. She’d seen very strong-willed individuals awkwardly make excuses and shuffle away, only to be roped back in at the last second. No. Bruce Wayne wanted to be here, and he wanted to learn everything he could.

She imagined thousands of drones printed with WE logos scouring the ocean for a scared teenage boy. No Jazz, no catastrophising. She took steady deep breaths, and counted things she could feel with each sensation.

She needed to focus on what she had to power to do right here and right now. The positives: her parents had very wisely chosen not to sell their most useful tech to the GiW. Her mother never trusted them, and her father was still upset at the government organisation for not having recognised them earlier in their career.

That meant no agents in white suits going after her brother, assuming he’d managed to lose them (which was likely).

Her parents also believed she was here to hunt Phantom. That was another positive.

Their new tech had been whipped up in a fever dream-like haze over the course of two days or less.

That meant an easy excuse if any of them malfunctioned.

The bad news? Bruce Wayne could possibly sniff her out, and snitch on her to her parents. That would severely limit her ability to slow them down.

She turned back as her dad began showing off their miniature sonars, eagerly boasting of their range and precision. Bruce Wayne nodded, and asked about their hardware. How they overcame issues with affecting marine life, how they could compact it into such a small case.

That was good news. Arguably. She did not very much like the idea of the world’s richest man funding a crusade against an entire species. But infallible he was not, and all she needed was plausible deniability and a distraction to grant her brother hours. Even days, assuming she even could distract the enigmatic billionaire. There was the very public, very visible himbo dummy persona. What lay underneath the skin was another story entirely.

Then there was the question of how she would even know what to do in the first place. If she just took a wrench and started whacking, it would be made extremely clear who was responsible. If she wasn’t careful, she might even sink the boat. And she refused to put her family in danger. Jazz was going to do this right, and make sure everyone got home safe.

That meant she would need help.

“I’m getting a little dizzy, guys. I’ll head to my room if that’s ok.” She told the conversing men. Their goodbyes floated in the space behind her, distant to her ears.

She entered her little cabin in the SAV. Well, it was her and Danny’s, but for now she was alone. Jazz closed the door shut and locked it. The cabin consisted of a comfortable bunkbed and two desks for the both of them, as well as a (heavily reinforced) window looking out into the vast blue sea. Although not as densely decorated as her room at Fentonworks, it still carried personal affects dotting around its shelves and walls. A picture of Danny’s first beach day here. A photo of them fishing in Hawaii there. An old scented candle sat at the desk, a relic from when she’d tried to get the smell of fish off the SAV when she was ten.

Jazz had no time to waste. Her mother had noted off-handedly that they were already going a hundred miles an hour. That was insane. They’d catch up with Danny within the day.

Jazz calmed her nerves, and collected herself. She swept the room for bugs and listening devices, something her father had taught her once to ward off the feds. Something told her the screaming IRS agent running away from her house did that plenty, but that was neither here nor there. Once done, she threw the sheets off the bunk beds. The mattresses came off and found a new place shoved up against the wall. As sound-proofed as she could make her room, Jazz recited opening lines in her head.

She pulled out her phone, and dialed. It was time to bust the hatch open.

“Hello?”

“Hello Mrs Foley!”

“Jazz! It’s great to hear from you. I’m so sorry about Danny, I-”

Jazz cut her off. “Actually, about that. Can I please speak to Tucker? I’d like to have a word with him.”

A pause. “Sweetie. Tucker’s been grounded until further notice.” Mrs Foley’s voice ground out at the last two words. It didn’t seem pretty for Danny’s friends.

“I know, but this is urgent.” Jazz stressed.

“He supported Phantom, Jazz. My baby boy committed computer crime for that monster. I just- I just don’t know what’s going on. No. Tucker needs to serve his punishment. And then after- after- after that I don’t know.”

“I know you’re in shock, Mrs Foley. So am I. But have you considered that he might be in grief, too?”

The line went quiet.

“Danny isn’t just my little brother. He’s Tucker’s best friend in the whole world. Tucker’s an honorary little brother to me. Doesn’t he deserve to know what’s going on with him?”

Mrs Foley took a moment of silent deliberation, and sighed. “You’ve got a way with words, Jazz. Fine. I’ll call him down.”

“Oh, and Mrs Foley? Can we have a bit of privacy as well? I think Tucker will need some space for this conversation.”

A minute later, Tucker showed up as promised. “Oh sweet technology. How I’ve missed you so…”

He sounded tired. Incredibly tired, despite his open relief about being able to touch a phone. Not only that, but it sounded inauthentic. Almost performative. “Tucker, stop caressing the phone. I have news about Danny.”

Tucker’s breath hitched. “Do you know where he is?”

Jazz took a deep breath, forcing her shoulders to relax. The moment of truth. “I know what happened to him.”

“Jazz I swear Phantom had nothing to do with it, you gotta-,”

“No Tucker. I’m talking about six months ago.” Jazz looked behind her, listening for any footsteps outside her door. “I saw him in the water three months ago. I saw him changing.”

Her brother’s life was at stake. She chose her words very, very carefully, as vague as possible.

Tucker gasped. “W-what do you mean? D-Danny goes swimming all the time. Wait a minute-”

The line went dead. Panic threatened to tilt Jazz off course. Did she just blow her only chance? No. Think rationally. Tucker was a smart kid. A genius with tech. He probably realised anyone could listen in on his house’s landline. That boy went through PDAs like old clothes; he had to have a few burners spare.

Her phone rang again, and Jazz could have cried in relief.

“What are you gonna do with Danny’s secret?” Tucker hissed, accusation plainly audible.

“My parents have a radar to track him across the world. They have a dozen new weapons to fire on him with. They have an engine that can accelerate the SAV to a max speed of 200 miles an hour. I need you to tell me how to sabotage each and every one of them.”

Tucker choked on the line. “You s-serious?” He said, nakedly vulnerable, like she was about to pull the rug out at the last moment.

“Danny’s my little brother. I’d do anything for him. And I’ve always critiqued my parents’ obsessions as unhealthy. Tucker, I don’t know what half of this stuff does. You’re my only hope. You’re Danny’s only hope.”

Her honorary little brother gulped. When he spoke next, it was like his resolve had been dipped in liquid steel. “I’m right on it.”

She heard thunderous clacking through the line. It looked like Mrs Foley’s punishment was not as airtight as the woman thought it was…

Chapter Text

Danny woke from his little cat nap soon after, stretching his tail out like a lounging snake. Damian sat next to him, characteristically unimpressed as the teenager cracked his knuckles and shook off the remaining grogginess.

“Are you done?” Damian asked.

Danny yawned again. “Yeah what time is it?”

“It has been about two hours. We are wasting time.”

Damian swam to Danny’s left side and nudged him with his head. Danny bonelessly flopped to the side without moving. “Dude, what’s the rush? I thought you liked animals.”

“The whales have been amenable company, but my father needs me back as soon as possible. In addition, we have entered a coral reef.”

Danny blinked, and got up. The boy leaned his head over the edge of the mother whale. Seemed Damian was right. The waterscape in front of them was filled with tall kelp forests in the distance. Below the, the sea floor housed miles of vibrant coral in all sorts of colours. Red, purple, yellow and green coral spiraled and twisted and grew from the rocks and sand, living alongside schools of big and small fish. Clownfish peeked in an out of anemones. Little critters like shrimps and lobsters crawled in and out of crevices, sheltered from predators.

Damian apparently thought he was taking too long. Danny belatedly realised his harness was untied, just as Damian rammed into his back and pushed him off the edge.

“We need to replenish our supplies.” Damian said. “Teach me how to gather forage and hunt.”

Well that was a slight issue. Being a modern American teenager with access to such things as fridges and a global supply chain meant that he was perhaps less suited to roughing it than the younger boy might have assumed. It was not like he never had to live off the land, but the less said about long swim home after Vlad happened, the better.

“Well?” Damian repeated, arms crossed, looking down Danny expectantly.

“Alright then. I’ll teach you silly human what it’s like to live off the land, like your ancestors long before you.” He said sagely.

The whale pod crooned a deep farewell as the continued on their journey. He and Damian waved them off, before returning to their own needs.

He led his young charge to perch atop a cliff overlooking the reef. The boys laid their fins flat so as to avoid drawing attention. Danny scanned the landscape, settling his eyes on a lobster hiding underneath a rock. Despite their reputation these days, lobsters did not look nearly as appetising raw and alive. From the bottom, they looked more like cockroaches than delicacies. Plus, they were literally the worst possible travelling food ever. No.

Instead, Danny caught sight of his real prize. Mussels!

“You good with shellfish?” He asked the younger boy. Damian turned up his nose, looking haughty like Sam’s parents were it not for the adorable pout he’d put on too.

“If the only other option is starvation.”

“We’ll keep an eye for more plants on the way.” Danny said, preparing to descend.

The thing about mussels was that you didn’t need to kill them to bring them along. They came with their own natural packaging, even if it was a bit heavy. Danny stuffed his pockets with a couple handfuls of the shellfish, leaving space for a more varied diet, and leaving the rest to stay and reproduce. He wasn’t greedy! Sam had taught him about these things. Mussels were very important to the environment. Evidently Damian was aware too. The boy nodded in approval as Danny continued his search.

Damian’s sword came in useful as well (he would’ve taken it away if he wasn’t sure that the kid would slash him for it) for harvesting kelp and seaweed. The pair snacked on kelp strips as Danny took them to their next prey.

However, Damian protested. “I do not wish to kill this one.”

The huge trout, easily as big as Damian, floated blissfully ignorant of the two predators eyeing it like hawks. Danny ‘s head spun as he tried to keep track of Damian’s seemingly endlessly shifting opinion towards eating fish or not. “That thing could feed us for like 300 miles.”

“The largest fish also reproduce the most. This one is a female.” Damian continued. Now that he thought of it, didn’t Sam make a whole protest about this in the beginning of summer? “Many oceans are in danger due to overfishing from humans. As a human myself, it is my responsibility to fish sustainably.”

The boy’s fins puffed with pride and conservationist fervor, a quiet determination that reminded him of Sam. Danny had some doubts. “If we eat the small fry, there won’t be many left to grow big and ‘reproduce’ as you say.”

This point seemed to put pause on Damian’s previous showboating. The boy gritted his teeth, looking for a comeback. “What about invasive species? Those that threaten the natural balance.”

Danny shrugged. That was a good point, except Danny didn’t know how to identify any of those.

“But you live in the ocean!” Damian protested when this point was brought up.

“Yeah. You live on land. Does that mean you know about every species that lives on Gotham?”

“Yes.” Well he kinda walked into that one, didn’t he?

“Well if you know so much about invasive species, why don’t you look for them?” Danny challenged. Animal hyperfixation or not, surely this kid couldn’t identify the hundreds of species that lived in this reef.

Damian’s ear fins tensed, something he’d noticed in himself whenever he was concentrating on something. The boy turned away from Danny and to the reef in front of them. Suddenly, the boy’s body slumped.

A smug grin split open Danny’s face.

Damian groaned, as if his next words were like Soviet torture. “There are no saltwater invasive fish near California, to my knowledge.”

“Hah! Suck on that, fishboy!”

Damian mewled angrily. His hand drifted down to the hilt of his sword. On dear.

“Alright, alright, alright. What about a compromise?” Danny waved his arms defensively.

“Speak.”

“We grab the fish that we were gonna grab before you interrupted.” Damian hissed at that. “BUUttt only one. And we fill our pockets with small fry. A balanced fishing diet. What do you say?”

The grumpy child pouted one more time for good measure, before sinking back to the floor. “Fine. You still need to teach me how to make a kill.”

“You sure you won’t get attached?”

“I can suppress my emotions to complete the mission.” It spoke something about Damian that Danny wasn’t even that phased this time. That being said please let that just be a boast with nothing to back that up.

Danny lay prone, fins flat, head down, like a tiger about to pounce. In the entire conversation they’d had, the trout had drifted about five inches from its previous position. Survival instincts this poor girl had not.

“All you need to do is shut your gills, like holding a breath. Just get closer… and closer… and POUNCE!”

Danny leapt at the trout, using his powers to accelerate into a blur. His hands pinned it down in an instant, the trout thrashing and slapping him, trying to escape. With a swift motion, Danny bit clean through its gills. The trout rapidly lost strength, slowly fading until it went still.

He held the trout up like a trophy. “Tada!”

Damian frowned deeply. “That was an unclean kill. It suffered immensely.”

“Ughh!” Danny groaned. “What do you want from me. I’m a siren not an assassin.”

Damian unsheathed his sword, looking about 50% more menacing as any other six-year-old Danny had ever met. “It seems I will have to show you, instead.”

Five minutes later, his idea of showing Danny how to kill resulted in a fresh bruise and a bent fin. The carp he had tried to pounce managed to escape with a shallow cut on its side.

“I’m very educated now, Damian. Thank you.” He snickered as Damian roared in anger.

“Shut your mouth! You have an unfair advantage, seeing as you can use your powers, while I am hampered by my body.”

“You’ll grow into them. I think. I dunno I haven’t met a lot of siren kids.”

“I am not a child!” Damian said, pouting very maturely.

The rest of the morning was spent like that, roaming the reef in search of food and bickering over this and that. At one point they debated over dolphins were whales or not (Danny personally thought whales were too nice to encompass dolphins under their umbrella).

Their food supplies replenished and energy still raring to go, the boys sealed their satchels shut, and continued south.

Meanwihle…

Hundreds of miles away in the ocean, Bruce stands at the helm of the Fenton Family SAV, its modified engines going at full throttle.

In a hidden compartment in his room, Tucker Foley slams into the firewall of the Fenton’s new database with everything he has. Schematics, blueprints, notes. He needs that data and he needs it now.

Sam Manson meditates on her bed, surrounded by candles. She recites warding spells, a staple for any young magician.

Skulker sits in his private yacht, bandaging his wounded leg, sliding the pieces for his next upgrade. Behind him, an ornate fish tank sits empty, awaiting its guest.

Agent K and Agent O monitor the news. The sonars around Amity. A report sits on the desk. The Fentons have just left town? That will be interesting… 

Chapter Text

Beautiful, sunlit beaches blanketed the coastline underneath the street level where colourful tiles crisscrossed. An umbrella kept the heat away from the rustic wooden table at which the Fenton family, minus their youngest, and Bruce Wayne sat. The SAV sat peacefully by the pier where they had disembarked.

They had been sailing for the better part of the afternoon, finally stopping to pick up lunch at Jazz’s insistence. Mr Wayne’s insisted on paying, ever the rich philanthropist.

Jazz Fenton couldn’t be more worried, although she had to hide it. Sitting opposite her, Mr Wayne idly chatted with her parents about their college days. Once she knew what she was looking for, it was painfully obvious that he was interrogating them for information on Vlad Masters, another billionaire thorn in the family’s side (not that her parents knew).

She fidgeted. Her foot tapped repeatedly on the stop, arched to not make sounds that would give her state of general anxiety away. Once she told Tucker what was happening, the boy had gotten to work right away. It would take some time to locate the files containing the specs for the newest inventions, and then more time to analyse them and pinpoint what damage she could do.

She’d need to call Sam next. Tucker had given her the number for Sam’s spare, although there was no guarantee she’d be able to answer soon.

Until then, Jazz was on her own. She picked at her sweet and sour fish broth soup, rolling the tomato chunks around. If she gave herself food poisoning somehow, that might give the boys potentially a week to get away. Then again, there was an equal chance one of her parents would stay with her while the other went with Bruce.

As it was, she could definitely malinger a stomach issue, and delay them for maybe half an hour. Sirens swam quickly, so that time could be valuable for them.

“What about you, Jasmine? What got you interested in psychology?” Came Bruce Wayne’s baritone. Shit.

Jazz was startled out of her thoughts. Before she could open her mouth, she did an awareness check. A mental checklist of where she was and what she needed to do and not do appeared in her head. If she tipped off this man, then it could very lead to her brother underneath a scalpel. No pressure at all.

“Uhm, well. Mr Wa- Bruce.” Jazz found herself stuttering when talking about psychology for the first time in her life. Dammit. She looked to the side, where her father nodded like an excited puppy. Not helping, dad.

“Well I’ve always been interested in people, you see.” Jazz kept a close eye on Bruce Wayne’s posture, studying him. “What makes them upset. What makes them happy.”

She side-eyed her parents. On one side, her mother glared viciously at her fried fish. On the other, her father arranged fries into smiling faces.

“With this family, I’ve had a lot to think about.” That was a good start, right? With any luck, he would be the one to give something away, something she could use against him.

Bruce Wayne chuckled, an easy (fake?) smile worn like a mask. “I can certainly relate. Many times my boys have left me pulling my hair out. It’s a chaotic house most days.”

That was right! Jazz recalled the preliminary research she had done earlier in the day. Bruce Wayne was known to be an endlessly kind man, but suffered several interpersonal issues over the years. One was the notorious apparent teenage tantrum thrown by an 18-year-old Dick Grayson, shortly before his second son, Jason was adopted.

The less said about Jason’s unfortunate fate, the better. Although he may have been brought back, somehow??

She wasn’t sure whether to envy his therapist or not.

It had been exhausting teasing the truth out of the myriad gossip articles on the Wayne family. If Danny were here, he’d bully her relentlessly for going back on her noted disdain towards the ‘shallow and vapid celebrity news industry dedicated to turning private interpersonal conflicts into products to be consumed.’ Oh how the mighty have fallen.

What she could be reasonably sure of was that the present-day family dynamics of the Waynes were testy, to say the least. Apparently their youngest, the Damian who had disappeared into the waves just two days ago, had been dealing with violent tendencies for some time and had no patience for entertaining the elites like his brothers used to. And that was just the public stuff.

Right. She could work with this.

“Was it difficult? In the early days, with your first son.” Jazz said, putting on tones of sympathy and empathetic connection, the kind she would use when she’d try to get Danny to open up.

A pained look came over Bruce. That was good!

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to poke any sensitive issues.” She added with false franticness. The longer the ball was in Bruce Wayne’s court, the better.

Mr Wayne waved her off. “No, it’s fine. Just old memories.”

“Are they fond memories?”

“Yes. It was the happiest time of my life. There was a lot of adjustment. I was a bachelor in my twenties, and suddenly I had an entire child in my hands. Dick had me running around like a headless chicken half the time.”

“Did it get easier?” Jazz asked. The billionaire’s eyes almost glazed over.

“Not particularly. If anything, things got harder. I learned very quickly that experience raising one child does not entirely transfer to another.”

Oh, that was good. Jazz filed this information into her mental notebook.

“But enough about me and my old man troubles.” With that endlessly disarming smile, she could tell why people fell for the playboy turned beleaguered father. “If you’re looking for a good psycho-analysis, I’m afraid I’m a bit basic compared to what Gotham has to offer.”

Drat. Was she that obvious? No, he’d just talked about her psychology interest. She could handle this easily. She just needed to be careful what she said, and didn’t say.

“I guess you could say I’m interested in non-traditional family dynamics. My parents have always been… eccentric.”

“That’s the Fenton way!” Her father shouted. Several other patrons looked at them scathingly. “Too bad Jazzpants hates siren hunting almost as much as… as…” Her father’s expression sank.

That calculating look came back in full force. Dammit dad! She needed to salvage this.

“My feelings towards my parents’ profession aside, the evidence points very strongly to Phantom being connected to my brother’s disappearance. I may not enjoy the siren hunts, but my brother comes first. What else can I do? Sit home and do nothing?”

Her father clapped her back, grinning proudly. “You wouldn’t be doing nothing, sweetie! You’d be keeping Vladdie company!”

Yeah… Jazz mustered all her will power to hide the cringe.

 “And besides, have you seen my parents when they’re at work? Yesterday they spent like 36 hours straight preparing the SAV with only one single break.” Jazz’s head fell back. “They’d probably forget to eat if I weren’t here.”

“Hey that’s not true, Jazz! Your mother and I are excellent at this work-life balance you always babble about. Yesterday we took two breaks instead of one. Progress!”

Jazz gestured to her father with an exasperated sigh. “See what I mean?”

Bruce Wayne hummed. His head tilted in thought as he sampled his mackerel. “Have you always been this responsible, Jasmine?”

“Of course! Look, I may be sixteen, but I very much possess the maturity of an adult. If it’s my job to wrangle this family into healthy habits, then so be it.”

Bruce Wayne appeared to have something to say about that. Jazz’s phone buzzed at that moment, having been turned silent earlier. It was Tucker, you miracle worker.

She shot up from her chair, twisting her expression into an agonisied grimace. “Sorry I think I’m having a bathroom emergency. I’ll be right back!”

Jazz dashed away, feeling perfectly fine in the stomach, except for her nerves.

“I have questions.” Damian told him. They were well on their way south now, Danny’s tail swishing away at top speed. Mostly the boys stayed silent, enjoying each other’s company and the rushing of water.

“Shoot.” Danny said.

“Are you a male? Or is this merely an assumption that others have made?”

Danny sputtered. The question almost knocked him off course with how sudden it was. “W-What? Why would that be a question?”

Damian hummed. “My brothers have taught me not to make assumptions. In addition, siren biology seems heavily based off of fish, many of whom are hermaphroditic in some way.”

“Uhh…”

“Which leaves us with the question. What am I to call you? For most of time together, I have been thinking of you as a male. Was that incorrect of me to do so?”

Danny’s eyes subconsciously drifted to his navel. Was he actually biologically male anymore? He’d always assumed so, but being a half-siren in a siren-hating down didn’t leave much time to learn siren anatomy in and out.

Had he been a girl this entire time? No way… No, he always acted the same as he always acted. If he was a boy before being turned, and acted the same, he could be a boy now, right?

“Uhhh yes. I think I’m a boy. Maybe.”

“For that matter, I would like to inquire how sirens reproduce. Surely the turning of humans is not the only way your species increases its number?”

Danny’s face heated to boiling. Blue blushes crept down his cheeks and covered his neck. “Maybe you could ask your dad about human reproduction first?” He squeaked.

“I am already aware!” Damian grouched. “I believe I deserve to know the specifics of the body which I have been forced into.”

“What if I told you I didn’t even know where siren babies came from?” Which was a sad, sad lie, bullshit that Damian clearly saw through.

“Lies!”

Danny threw his hands up, which threw off his balance for a moment. “You’re tiny. Can you guarantee your dad won’t sell me to the GiW for telling you this stuff?”

“I absolutely can.”

“Not the point! Please ask something else. You ain’t getting crap out of me on that front. I am like Davy Jones’ locker. Zip. Shut. Tight. Not happening.”

Damian seethed. This close, Danny could feel the kid’s chest vibrate with growling sounds.

“Very well. What are sirens classed as?”

“Inhuman non-sentient sea monsters bent on the destruction of humans.”

Damian slapped him in the back with his tailfin. “Biologically!”

“I dunno! Do I look like I have a marine biology degree?” Danny shrugged.

Damian lowered his head. “So you are uneducated.”

“Hey, rude!” Biology was never Danny’s strong suit. His motheyr was the one with the however many PhDs. And Sam was the one campaigning for animal rights every other week. He was more of a space guy. “You tell me! You’re the kid with the animal obsession.”

“I shall lay out the evidence. On the one hand, we possess scales, gills and fins, like all fish do. However, the heat your blood, despite the cold water suggests warm-bloodedness. Furthermore, I have paid very close attention to you, and the female sirens we met in your cave.”

“And what did you see?” Danny tilted his head back.

“The nipples.” Damian ground out. “Which suggests breastfeeding, which is a mammalian trait. However, I am not sure if my own are because of my former status as a human. That is why I must ask you this.”

This was definitely going to be awkward. Danny preemptively suppressed the cringe reflex.

“Do sirens breastfeed?” Damian asked. Danny blanked at that one. Yeah. That question was a hard no clue. “Have you ever breastfed?”

Damian. Oh Damian. Kids just say the darnedest things. Damian. Danny’s cheeks heated up again. He squeaked out an answer. “N-no! I’ve been on my own in the ocean.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at him. Did suspicion have a smell? Because Danny felt like it did, and he was smelling it.

“Do siren parents not take care of their children?” Damian finally asked.

Danny thought back to Youngblood, how Ember basically made him her younger brother (which made her teasing of him for having Damian around totally hypocritical). It was in this moment that he realised he didn’t know any sirens outside his normal enemies. 99% of all times he had interacted with another siren. Hell, any other sea person, was when he was fighting them.

“Danny? Danny?” Damian’s voice raised.

Danny shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just thinking…”

He sounded so pitifully sad in that moment. When a series of familiar whale calls breached the surface, he eagerly welcomed the distraction.

“We’ve caught up to the whale pod!”

Damian gasped, attention turned fully away from his interrogation. “Where are they?”

Danny carried him forward, surging to greet Damian’s new friends again. However, what he saw chilled him.

About a hundred feet away there was a small boat with a flat open deck, a dingy vessel with barnacles coating its hull, and men carrying harpoons and operating cranes, pulling in a net that thrashed violently. And on the deck, tied up by rope and netting, was a baby whale.

Damian swore in a language he didn’t understand. Danny swore too.

Damian’s fins shot ramrod straight. His teeth bared with an inhuman growl. His hand went to the sword sheathed at his waist. He itched to sink it into the bodies of these treacherous men.

“Wait.” Danny said. Wait!? What a preposterous thought. They needed to save Dorothea and her pod now.

“Are you insane!?”

His companion’s voice lowered dangerously. “You realise if we attack them, then the GiW will know, right? The whalers will call for help, or get to shore and it’ll be on the news. We’ll be hunted again.”

Damian did not hesitate. “Do you intend to prioritise our own safety over that of an endangered species being poached illegally?”

Danny shook his head. “Nah. Let’s go fuck them up.”

Chapter Text

Walter Wekapipo puffed his second cigar of the day. Puff. Puff. Smoke filled his lungs, taking the edge off. Just another cold, damp day on a cold whaling boat in the middle of nowhere.

The captain shouted his orders. Walter got to it. He trawled to the back and grabbed some rope. He heaved. He hauled. The whale they got was a small one. Probably a baby. Should leave it alone. Let it grow big, but captain’s orders.

See, Walter saw himself as a morally complex man. You, dear readers, may consider him with disdain, He is a whaler! You may say. They are endangered species, you continue. And these are very valid points, for which this narrative will not only not judge you but appraise you for.

And Walter considered these points too. Sure they were pretty creatures, but they could always make more. People have been huntin’ whales for centuries. Millennia even. How could you blame him for needing to make a livin’?

No, who you should blame, Walter thought, was the rich pricks out on the East Coast. The assholes who run around in Armani and Gucci and drive fancy cars and do big speeches about the environment and then sneak off to Japan to try whale meat and raw horse. Bleugh.

What he could do with that kinda money…

But he didn’t have that kind of money, and you know? Mama always told him he needed to be happy first with what he got. So Walter picked up his harpoon gun, and dragged his feet to the side of the boat. A whale surfaced. There she was. Huge, meaty, tonnes of oil. Crying out like a bitch too. He remembered his mama crying out like a bitch every single day, till they institutionalised her. Poor mama.

Maybe in a better life, he wouldn’t be out here killing whales illegally. Walter didn’t really have the heart to fire the thing. Not really. But captain’s orders. And it was this or the streets.

Walter flicked his cigarette into the water. Time to get over with it. The captain yelled at him again. He knew he wasn’t getting’ fired. Boat was barely staffed as it was. Walter picked up his harpoon and took aim. So sorry, whaley-girl.

Something wet smacked into his cheek. Then it slid down his face, and dropped onto the floor. What in the world-?

Water slowly lowered his head. His half-smoked cigarette lay there innocently, chock fulla water.

Then came the most hideous, horrifyin’ screechin’ Walter had ever heard in his life.

May God have mercy on his tainted, tainted soul.

Damian opened his gills pre-emptively. He jumped out of the water at full speed, roaring the moment he surfaced. The first man, the repugnant one with the harpoon gun. He was to go down first. The poacher was too stunned to even move. Damian sank his teeth deep into the man’s hand, going deeper than his human bites had ever gone.

The man screeched like a distressed school girl. Damian did not relent. His opponent attempted to fling Damian off, but the small siren held firm. The man stumbled back, howling and trying his best to rid himself of the monstrous child.

The two men beside him shouted. They reached for their harpoons. Twin blue beams blasted them back. The ice bound them to the back wall, leaving only enough room to breathe and wiggle their fingers.

Damian moved to finish his opponent. Tired of the incessant screeching, Damian unhooked his teeth from the man’s arm. Raising his head to eye level, Damian matched the poacher’s terrified look with a hiss of his own. One firm head butt later, and he was down for the count.

And Damian was hardly done.

He may be without his grappling hook. He may be without his legs. But he was still Robin, and a Robin who could not adapt was no Robin at all.

Shouting erupted along the boat. Footsteps scrambled and ran in every which direction. Men rushed to where he was lying ‘prone’ on the deck. Let them come!

“You handle the right. I will decimate the left.” Damian shouted. Danny nodded, charging up another beam.

Damian held his sword in one hand, and activated the wrist ray on the other. The men hesitated.

“Come on mates. It’s just a baby! We could get rich selling it!” With that, the trio of sailors yelled and rallied, each of them carrying harpoons. Child’s play.

Damian coiled his tail, and jumped as a wound-up spring would. A harpoon fired. Damian fired back. The wrist ray’s beam hit true, and the harpoon flew off course. The siren boy continued his course, and latched onto the first man.

His movement came as fluid as gentle river. In one motion with one hand, a slash at the stomach. In another with the other hand, he launched himself at the next poacher. His second total victim fell to the floor like a sack of bricks, writhing and crying out. The second of the trio faltered. A fatal mistake. Damian went for the head. His tail wrapped around the disgusting human’s neck and squeezed. The third man lunged for him. Damian burned his feet with the wrist ray. Then he sent him flying back with a shot to the shoulder.

There were more men. Damian did not relent. He would not relent until nobody was standing, until they could no longer continue their dirty deeds.

His platform was beginning to lose consciousness. Damian slammed him behind the head with the hilt of his sword. As the man fell, Damian launched himself to the next person foolish enough to approach. Then the next, and then the next. Damian dodged and deflected harpoons. He leapt from person to person in a bloody game of leap frog, and when he ran out of people to jump to, he instead went for the crane in the centre of the boat. Damian clambered up the crane using nothing but his upper body strength, aided by his lighter weight.

The remainder of the men were cowering under shelter. It was foolish to think they could escape from him for long. A death rattled emerged, a warning for anyone who dared approach. A foolish man peeked from a window. The wrist ray burned off a patch of hair for his troubles.

Damian had no patience for these games. It seemed Danny had the same idea. The flashes of blue light     ceased alongside the screaming. Oh how therapeutic the screaming was.

Before long, chaos emerged from even the cabin rooms. Looks like Danny had breached them. His opportunity granted, Damian dropped.

He landed on a hapless sailor. A slam to the back of the head had him slumping against the doorway. Damian leapt into the fray.

As soon as it had started, the bloodbath ended. Damian and Danny sat there in the bridge, surrounded by fallen poachers, still breathing, a small mercy. The boys panted heavily, their bodies not quite used to exertion over water. However, the deed was done.

“Has anyone told you you’re totally insane?” Danny asked.

Damian nodded breathlessly. “Many times.”

“High-five?”

Damian’s shoulders slumped. “Very well.”

They still had work to do. Danny tipped over a bucket of sea water on them both. “To keep our scales wet.” He said. Together, the sirens worked on freeing Dorothea. Damian cut the ropes, while Danny used his ice to smooth over the deck.

Damian laid his hand on her nose. He trilled his goodbyes. “Farewell, Dorothea. May you travel safely.”

With the ice acting like a smooth ramp, just a couple pushes were enough to slide Dorothea back into the water, safe and sound. Her mother sang to them in thanks. The whale pod departed soon after, leaving the two siren boys to the rest of the dirty work.

Damian emerged from the brig with rope. A lot of it. Danny worked on icing over the wounds inflicted by Damian’s rampage, many of which Damian would attest were well-earned. However, Damian did not intend to become a murderer again. Despite everything, he still wished to live up to his father’s ideals.

With the crew and captain rounded and tied up, that left another question.

“How are we gonna get these guys to the authorities?”

“We could always just sink the ship and allow them to perish.”

Danny crossed his arms, his face going flat. “No thanks.”

“It is simple. We emulate Basil the Second of the Eastern Roman Empire, who blinded 99 captured soldiers out of a hundred, and gouged out only one eye from the remaining one. Then he had the enemy soldiers return, led by the one-eyed men.”

Danny’s own eyes widened to dinner plates. His nictitating membranes flashed back and forth rapidly.

“I mean to say we allow one man to captain the ship home, while still heavily restrained.”

Danny’s body slumped in relief. “Oh thank god. I thought you were gonna actually try and do that.”

Damian bared his teeth at the crooks, who cowered as far as they could, tied up in rope and ice. “I would like to, but I am bound by higher principles these days.”

“Not concerning at all, but ok.”

Danny wisely chose to not press the issue. He chose someone relatively skinny, freed him out of the bunch. The scrawny man did not even try to flee. Damian’s sword made sure of that.

Just because they were allowing them to live did not mean they had to be nice. Land was less than a day away, so they could afford to be a little harsh. Damian tried the man wrists to the steering wheel, and Danny welded his feet to the floor. “Just so you don’t get any ideas, buddy.”

Danny patted the man on the shoulder, a gesture that was normally meant to encourage and provide support. The scrawny sailor trembled.

“Oh, Dami!” Danny perked up.

Damian’s fins rattled at the childish nickname.

“Now that we’re on a boat, we can call home.

That was… that was good news! Yes! He had completely forgot about that, lost in his righteous rage. That was the whole reason they’d ravaged the previous Atlantean town. Only the map had showed the nearest island to be thousands of miles away, and the coastline would have been too risky. Yes, this was good news indeed.

Damian put his sword to Scrawny’s throat.

Danny cleared his voice. “You might wanna give us your phone password, or my friend here is gonna make a sushi restaurant out of you.”

The man rattled off a series of numbers. Danny fished out his mobile phone, an old battered model, but functional.

“Here you go, Damian.”

Damian’s heart lightened. At last he could contact his father. Perhaps set up an extraction of some kind at the other end of Panama, or even earlier. This would be an enormous step towards bringing this adventure to an end, and returning back to Gotham where he was needed (and deep inside his heart, where he needed to be as well).

Damian slid the phone’s screen to unlock it, only for it to not work. Damian swiped the screen again.

“Why is this not working?” He rapidly rubbed the screen with his thumb, but the device did not respond.

“Oh yeah. These things are designed for human skin, which, uh, you know.” Danny showed his open palm, showing fingers coated in scores of tiny scales.

Damian looked to the side. He crawled up to one of the piles of tied-up poachers and came up to one fortunate enough to have been rendered unconscious. Damian yanked his arm forward, not caring for the deafening crack sound that motion created, and used the poacher’s human fingers to input the call for him.

An inelegant solution for an inelegant problem.

But that was no matter. Damian checked and double checked the numbers, making sure it was his father’s and nobody else’s. He took a deep breath, and pressed call.

Bruce Wayne sat on the back deck of the SAV, alone for the moment. The Fentons were just below, manning the controls. Apparently there was some kink in the system that was causing them to lose speed. Unsurprising, considering they had invented this whole new system in less than 48 hours. Or at least that was if Jasmine was to be believed.

The back deck sported an umbrella over a desk and a couple chairs for relaxation. On his tablet, Bruce carefully read the Fenton’s previous papers on sirens, a length catalogue dating back to over twenty years, when they were both in college.

In college with Vlad Masters, until he had disappeared, only to return grievously ill.

His phone rang. Bruce stared at the call. An unknown American number. He’d long ago stamped out the scam callers and telephone advertisers from ever bothering him or his family. The only person who could be calling this number was someone who knew it. Or at least someone who’d manually dialled it and wasn’t a scammer.

Hope began to swell. Surely it couldn’t be. It had to be Damian. Wasn’t it? No, he had to quash his hopes down. He had to stay focused.

Bruce answered the call.

“Hello, Bruce Wayne speaking. How may I help you?” His body tensed, hoping to God that it would be his son’s voice on the line, in the one and a million chance.

But what came through the line wasn’t his son’s voice. Or anyone’s voice. Instead, a series of frantic high-pitched trills, clicks and whistles came through. Almost like the caller put the phone next to an excited dolphin.

“Listen, I do not have time for any pranks. Who is calling me and why?” Bruce clenched his first. Of course he was a fool to get his hopes up.

Another frantic dolphin call. What a waste of time.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself for prank calling me.” The clicking went on in even more rapid succession, but Bruce ignored it. “Goodbye, and do not call this number again.”

Bruce hung up.

He hung his head in his hands, wishing for Damian to be back and safe. Wishing nobody had to be in danger.

Chapter Text

Danny watched as Damian’s body froze in dawning horror. The hang-up sound deafened the room. The boy sat stock still. His arms trembled. The phone slipped out of his palm. He didn’t bother to pick it up.

“I… I do not understand.” Damian whispered. “I was speaking in plain English.”

But Danny understood. He understood now, where he never knew before. A lump grew in his throat.

How many people think about the movements of their tongues in speech? How many people actively plan out and execute precisely which movements their mouths make, judging distances, contours, contact time and aerodynamics? How many conversations has the average person had without a single thought towards any of these factors?

His siren brain turned Damian’s shell-shaken chirps into English words so seamlessly that it took active concentration to remember they weren’t English words, not any that a human could easily understand.

“Damian-”

“Do not ‘Damian’ me!” Damian’s fins turned into rigid spines, a reaction he only ever saw from sirens seriously trying to kill him. “We have been speaking in English this entire time! Why could he not understand me?! I have been-”

Damian’s eyes widened. His breathing hitched, then labored. His hands went to clutch at his throat.

“What have I been speaking?”

“Damian, I’m sorry.”

“When you threatened the sailor for his phone password, he complied immediately. You spoke human English to him!” Damian jabbed Danny’s chest, accusation radiating off every word.

“I know. Damian, I-”

“Father is a discerning man. He will not accept a phone call from a strange number twice! You could have squandered the only opportunity we have had to contact help for thousands of miles!”

The young boy’s chest strained to contain his breathing.

“Damian, you’re hyperventilating. Let’s slow down and-”

“No!” Damian backed away from Danny’s hands, like they were molten lava. “We need to contact father again, now! Show me how to form human words.”

Danny stuttered. He had never thought how to do that. He spoke in clicks to his enemies, and when he changed to human form, he’d speak normally again with his loved ones. Changing to human words in siren form was effortless to him.

Damian did not wait for his response long. The boy wheezed, and gasped. The boy’s throat clenched and throbbed as he spat out rasping hisses, and malformed syllables.

He sucked in another breath, and tried again. Each attempt ended up in failure. Damian’s breath grew shallower, his breathing accelerating further and further.

“No! No, no, no, no!” Damian muttered. The boy’s body slumped over, collapsed against the floor. “Why can I not do it?! What do I need? Show me!”

Damian’s chin wobbled His eyes wavered with tears threatening to come out.

Danny was at a loss. Heat scorched his cheeks, shame and guilt in tandem. “I- I- I don’t k-know. I never l-learned. I-it just came naturally to me.”

“I have lost my legs! I have lost my family. I have lost my age and my mental maturity. And you never saw it fit to tell me I have lost my voice too?! What else will you take from me?!”

Danny’s heart seized. A white streak dripped down Damian’s cheek. Then another. Danny lowered his head. “I’m sorry Damian. I- I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know this would happen.”

“What do you mean?!” The child wailed. “We have been swimming for two days! You have had so much time to consider, and yet you did nothing!”

“We can still contact your dad. I-I can speak to him. Or we could text. Or maybe-”

Danny’s nose prickled. Voices came from around the boat. Atlantean voices. More than ten of them. He raised his head, and spotted scores of soldiers announcing their presence in front of the boat. A couple of them in fancy headgear also sported Atlantean magic tattoos. Not good at all.

Damian wrenched a half-sobbing chirp too broken to understand. Danny scooped up the tiny, tiny child, and turned them both invisible. Damian pushed against his arms, but Danny kept firm. He shattered the windows of the room, causing the soldiers outside to yelp and ready their weapons. Without giving them anymore notice, he jumped into the water, speeding away from the scene.

Danny had lost count of how many hours he’d swum, Damian still clinging to his back. Whatever faint traces of warmth the boy had started to show him had long evaporated.

“Damian?” Danny prompted, for what felt like the hundredth time. “Damian, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to.”

What did he mean to do?

Damian remained quiet, and terrifyingly still. All that came out was a tiny whine and a hiccupped gasp.

“Damian, I promise there’s an explanation for this. It’s-” Danny stopped. It’s what? What could he say to explain? That he was a full human until he was 13 years of age? That he’d had about 10 positive interactions with the other members of his ‘species’ his entire life? That he was not even what or who he said he was, a freak of nature, tainted and touched in ways he could barely imagine?

His only safety net was his secrecy. Danny’s mind flashed to armadas of GiW ships funded by Wayne Enterprises, his parents at the helm of the flagship, and Bruce Wayne soon after. He imagined swimming, and swimming, and swimming for the rest of his life, hiding away in the Mariana Trench and never seeing the stars again.

Damian had no reason not to tell his father everything that transpired during this journey. And he especially had the right to be very angry with Danny. After all, who else failed to save him?

But he was also owed an explanation of some kind. Maybe a half truth? Danny swallowed the lump in his throat. He cleared his mouth. Why were there tears blurry his vision?

“Do not speak to me.” Damian muttered. Nowhere was the boisterous, prideful ego. The kid sounded utterly defeated.

“Damian…” Danny begged. He blinked as fast as he could. The tears were even faster.

“The only reason I have allowed you to carry me is because I still wish to go home. But I do not wish to speak to you. Or speak, period.”

Danny let the silent tears fall freely. “Ok.”

Jack Fenton lay on a mechanic creeper, looking into the complex mesh of wires he and Maddie had concocted in a feverish haze over the course of a single day, and now it was sparking. That was worrying. No need to sweat it, though. Jack Fenton was nothing if not a mechanic, and he’d sort this issue out in no time.

Maddie was on the deck, carefully watching for any siren interlopers who might take an easy shot at them. With her at the helm, Jack had nothing to fear as he inspected the damage.

His eyes traced lines of wires and pipes. Hydroplasm tubes leading into combustion chambers fed by cooling units. Ahah! There it was! One of the cooling tubes was leaking. The bolts on the thing were just a bit too loose, and water was beginning to drip through. A layman might think a cooling tube being broken would cause issues, but the Fentons were nothing if not thorough. Their failsafe system kicked in, and forced the engines to slow down so as not to overheat everything. Let it never be said that Jack Fenton did not care for the safety of his children!

Actually, now that he thought about it, there were a lot more minor issues than he thought there would be. Nothing major, thank goodness, but he could tell why the SAV had been chugging lately.

Time to get to it! Now what tools would he need?

Jack Fenton sat up, only for his head to bang on a pipe. He fell back onto the creeper with a wheeze. Gotta keep an eye on where he was!

 “Dr Fenton?” Was that Brucie?

“Brucie boy! Please, call me Jack! Dr Fenton was my dad.”

“I’m sure Jasmine will soon be saying the same.” Brucie chuckled. “Jasmine told me you were taking longer than normal. Need a hand?”

“You sure about that? This isn’t the kind of thing you can find in an old Toyota.”

Brucie was out of his fancy suit and tie, and in more dirty work-appropriate wear. At least he had the spirit!

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem. I’ve done a few creative engineering projects myself. Some of my designs are sold by the company.”

Jack rolled himself back into the open air, where Brucie was already taking stock of the machinery. Jack’s eyebrows shot up.

“Huh. I didn’t know you were a hands-on type of CEO!”

“I try not to be distant from the people I’m working with in the company. This is your field of expertise, though. If I’d get in the way, that’s fine too.”

“No, no! It’s been a long since time someone’s been this interested in our work. Most people run away! Probably the sirens intimidating ‘em.”

“I can imagine.” Brucie’s voice became sombre.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Brucie, I didn’t mean to, well.”

“It’s alright. The two of us are in the same boat, anyway.”

Jack snorted. Brucie’s face cracked up a little. “Alright then. Come on down and I’ll show you what we need to do.”

Brucie wasn’t lying when he said he had experience. Guy was keeping up with Jack as he explained how the engine worked and why it wasn’t working now. It was like he was talking to a peer in the field! It was exhilarating, considering he and Maddie made up pretty much half of the entire field of siren research.

“Where do you even get enough energy to power this thing? I know it’s not oil or coal or any kind of fossil fuel.”

“That’s easy, Brucie! It’s hydroplasm! Same thing that makes up sirens’ bodies. Gives them their powers.”

Brucie coughed loudly, almost dropping the power cell he was holding up while Jack redid the seals. “So it’s siren blood?”

“I guess you could say that. Not like we’ve ever actually caught one.” Jack tapped the hydroplasm tubes. Thankfully those ones were still airtight and secure. “All this stuff is filtered from the big blue sea herself! Ain’t that neat?”

“It’s incredible.” Jack felt pride swell, for his and his wife’s hard work.

“You’re pretty incredible yourself, Brucie.”

Brucie’s eyebrow quirked. “I can’t say I haven’t heard that before, but it’s usually from women trying to get my attention.”

“I mean it! Most parents wouldn’t have the gumption to take to the seas and fight monsters from the abyss for their kids. And that’s fair! Not everyone’s got the expertise Mads and I do.”

Jack turned the last screw and tapped the power cell. Tight as a tourniquet.

“And not every CEO’s willing to get knee-deep in nuts and bolts either.” Jack continued. Truth be told, Jack had never thought of the possibility of meeting a rich person before. He always thought they’d be in some other kind of world, totally unlike anything he knew. Vladdie was different of course. They went back all the way to their college days, after all.

“Not every parent would personally invent an arsenal worthy of sailing the high seas and fighting through them to get their son back.”

Jack beamed with pride. “Come on, Brucie. You’re making me blush!”

The men continued working, patching up the cracks, filling in missing parts, and welding together pipes, falling into a new pattern that they weren’t quite used to. Occasionally they would bump into each other, or pass the wrong tool and would have to correct. These mistakes became rarer as the night went on, and a comfortable silence settled between them.

“I’m just- I don’t know what to say. The boys. After Alicia and her son, we promised it would never happen again. Moved all the way to Amity, filled the bay with equipment, made a fortress out of our house, and then what?”

Brucie looked down. “I’m sorry about your sister-in-law. And I’m sorry I was careless too.”

Jack reared his head up. “What do you have to be sorry for, Brucie?”

“It was very likely my carelessness in visiting Amity Island that provoked the attack on my son, and yours.”

Jack waved them off immediately. Preposterous! “The only fault to be had is Phantom’s. We’ll get our boys back, and make Phantom pay.”

Bruce screwed in the last piece. The fathers backed out of the room, and slid the protective panel back over the engines.

“Danno’s a strong kid. I’m sure your Damian’s a wildfire and a half too. Wherever they are, I’m sure they’ll have each other’s backs.” Jack whispered. He hoped everything he taught his boy would give him a chance, even a sliver.

Brucie nodded. The men shared a look, and shared whatever hope they could carry on this voyage over the ocean.

Chapter Text

An entire day passed by in a haze. Damian continued to refuse to speak to Danny. They passed through coral reefs, shipwrecks and uninhabited islands, each teaming with beauty and vibrant sea life. Damian remained listless. At a certain point, Danny even tried to coax him into seeing a pod of orcas passing by. The child shook his head, and growled.

Past a certain point, the kid was barely even eating. Even as Danny passed him bits of seaweed and sargassum, Damian only nibbled on them over the course of hours.

They swam over the second coral reef they’d seen that day. Danny’s eyes passed over sea horses, clownfish and a whole pod of jellyfish. Damian slept clinging to his back, although it didn’t make much of a different, having not spoken a single word since the whaling boat. At least he was resting.

Somehow, he felt even guiltier than when he was speaking and guilt tripping him back in the reefs around Amity.

It had been days now since he was home. Suddenly left without a conversation partner for long stretches of time, Danny felt his mind wander to scary places. He pursed his lip, careful not to chew it with his sharp teeth. An old question reared its ugly head. What would he tell Bruce Wayne when they got to Gotham? Damian seemed to think it wouldn’t be an issue, but the kid was ten (or six now?). Danny didn’t know if he could live with himself if he took away his companion’s family on top of everything else.

And Danny’s family? He shuddered to think of how he’d explain his weeks’ long absence from home. His parents have probably been going crazy over his disappearance. Even with their habit of getting easily distracted, there was no way they hadn’t noticed it. He prayed that they would just assume he ran away. Unlikely. It would be less surprising if the returned to Amity with a million and one new inventions to fight and hide from.

A treacherous stray thought crossed his mind. Bruce Wayne did have a reputation for taking in troubled kids-

No. It would never happen. Not after failing to save Damian, and returning him a wreck of a traumatised child.

Maybe it would be better if he disappeared into the ocean…

These thoughts trampled over his poor heart for hours, and hundreds of miles. What did he do? What didn’t he do? What will he do and what won’t he do next? What could even be done? The answer stabbed needles in his throat. At the moment: nothing.

All he could do was keep swimming.

Jazz looked over the SAV’s radar. Internally she was panicking. She’d done all she could, endured hours of stress directing her parents and Bruce Wayne away and distracting them and slowing them down. But they still kept getting closer, and Jazz didn’t know if she could do anything more without tipping the elders off and risking everything.

Even now, Danny was within five hundred miles of them, and at the rate they were going, they’d catch up within a day. The autopilot hummed as it drove the boat. She texted Tucker on his secure server. What could they do now?

Jazz looked up at the night sky. She raised her hands, and traced constellations. She recited stories Danny would tell over and over again, and then the new stories he made up once the old ones got boring. He stopped doing that when he came back, irrevocably changed.

She recalled the story of Herakles. How Zeus conceived him with a mortal woman and slighted Hera, queen of the gods. How Hera rejected Herakles for what he represented: Zeus infidelity, and tried to have him killed.

The parallels were startling to her. The hour of confrontation fast approached, and she still could not tell what would happen, or what she would do. Would her parents show mercy to someone they saw as a monster, as no different from Aunt Alicia’s murderer and Great Uncle Jack and Great Great Grandma Wlikes and so on and so forth? Would Danny be cast away, his blood spilling into the water like the Milky Way?

Jazz sighed, and retreated to her room. As she went below deck and passed the hallway, harsh whispers slithered out of the door around the opposite corner, left slightly ajar. The light was on. Her parents’ and Bruce Wayne’s shadows shifted over the light.

Jazz tip-toed, heart pounding in her chest. She put her hand to her ear, and her ear to the door.

“I’m saying we need to be analytical about this.” Came Bruce Wayne’s hushed voice. He sounded like he’d been talking for a while now.

“That blob of ocean magic animated by post-human consciousness and possibly also negative emotions ripped our boys away from us, and probably sold them off somewhere for them to be used as- used as- I don’t even know!” The shadow of her mother threw her hands up. It was the same speech as ever. Her parents were stubborn. That was where she and her brother got it.

“And if we don’t interrogate him the right way, then we’ll lose them forever. Don’t you understand that?”

Her parents went still.

“Mads, I think Brucie’s got a point.” Her father’s voice lowered an octave, a stark contrast to his usual jovial shouting. Jazz had to shake herself. What was Bruce Wayne doing?

“Jack?”

“Phantom’s taken big hits before. What happens if tearing him apart doesn’t get him to squeal? We’ll be back at square one.”

“But if we threaten him first, then we can use that as bargaining chip.” Bruce Wayne continued.

Her mother was breathing heavily. For a moment, she said nothing.

“There’s another thing, too.”

“What is it, Brucie?”

“We have much more we need to learn from Phantom. What his motives are. What his species’ motives are. You said so yourself Jack, that you haven’t caught a single siren ever. Has anyone?”

Nobody had. It was something her parents had been pursuing for years. The first scientists to capture and study a live specimen. That was what they wanted. What did Bruce Wayne want, and what was he getting at here?

A spark of hope inside her told her it was because he was sympathetic. He wasn’t directly opposing her parents’ views, because doing so never made someone change their minds. He was going with their flow, subtly redirecting them towards more constructive ideas.

Hah! What a joke…

“He’s right, Mads. There’s so much we don’t know.”

“I know…” Her mother whispered, her voice breaking at the last syllable.

“There’s… another thing.” Bruce Wayne began, speaking slowly. “I have a source from Atlantis. They sent a report of a Phantom sighting a few hours before you approached me.” Jazz’s heart chilled. Billionaires really did have their pockets in everything, didn’t they?

Chairs scraped. “What? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It didn’t have any information that was either relevant or new.” Bruce Wayne hummed. “By the time the report arrived at my inbox, Phantom was already long gone, and your radar was already providing that information.”

“Then why bring it up now?” Her mother asked, always discerning.

“The report mentioned a second siren. A young boy. The report mentioned he looked about six years of age.”

Her parents went silent again. Jazz’s eyes widened. There was only one person that she thought of that Danny could be travelling with, and that was a turned Damian. Perhaps the report only saw them from afar, and misjudged his age?

“So he’s got a tiny accomplice??”

“Jack, we don’t know what-”

“Actually, Jack would be right. The child was assisting Phantom in pillaging at least two Atlantean outposts.”

Her mother growled, muttering a string of swears. Her father sat down again, chin in his hands, something he only did when he was in serious thought. “We didn’t even know for sure if there were siren children out there.”

“Jack.” Bruce Wayne stressed. “I’m bringing this up because whatever we are going to do to Phantom, we leave the child out of it.”

“But the research we could conduct-”

“Where’s your code of ethics?” Bruce Wayne’s shadow made a cutting motion.

Her parents’ shadows went still.

“How can our sons look us in the eye if we tortured a child, even an inhuman child, to try and save them? Whatever crimes Phantom has committed, this child hasn’t been a part of them. He may be just as much of a victim as Damian and Danny.”

“Bruce, the sirens have been responsible-”

“I’m keenly aware.”

At this point, Jazz decided to make her presence known. She poked her head in, putting on a light voice and a sleepy expression. She fake-yawned. “Guys? It’s getting very late. We all need to be up bright and early.”

“Oh, sorry Jazz. We were just talking about what we would do once we capture Phantom.” It seemed her mother didn’t mind her being privy to such a conversation, which meant the location out of the way was Bruce Wayne’s choice.

Jazz ran her hands down her hair. “For what it’s worth, I think the possibility of interviewing and surveying a child siren might give us an opportunity to investigate and potentially isolate the effects of nature and nurture. How much of the violent behaviour displayed by sirens past is due to their cultural upbringing and how much is caused by natural instincts? We could learn so much.”

Her mother hummed. She could tell by her face that she was considering her words. Jazz pressed on.

“Look, whatever happens, I think we need to reserve judgement for this new siren until after we’ve met him. We don’t attack baby lions just because adult lions are dangerous to humans, right?”

She looked to Bruce Wayne. She couldn’t read him. Jazz felt ill for what she was about to say, but she knew how futile it was to express her real beliefs, and try to push back an avalanche. “And maybe we can save the child? Teach him to be better than his violent peers, and educate him to be kind and accepting like us humans are.” Like she hoped her parents could be.

That got her parents attention. Jazz told herself it would all be worth it. It would be worth the nausea she had for saying something so utterly vile wrapped up in a cute bow.

She ignored the strange look Bruce Wayne gave her, and excused herself. She needed to have a cry. Catharsis would be good for her. Even if the underlying problem still writhed beneath her skin, fraying the bond between her and her parents.

She was so distracted she didn’t even use the opportunity the heated conversation gave her to sabotage the boat. What kind of a sister would this journey reveal her to be? What kind would her parents be revealed as?

Night settled as an eerily quiet day of swimming went past them. Danny scurried into a small cave for shelter. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Damian got off his back and shoved himself into the far end of the closed space, curling himself into a tight ball, back turned.

Danny unpacked the supplies one by one, alone. He passed a strip of kelp to Damian. The small siren’s fins remained rigid, like they’d been all day. Damian yanked the strip from Danny’s hands without a word.

Danny stared at the boy’s back. The words he needed still hadn’t come. They still slipped away whenever he tried to search. No pathway of apology seemed right in his head, so he pushed it back.

“It’s a nice night out.” Danny rubbed his wrists. “Clear skies. We can still see the North Star. Funny how we’ve gone south for so long, but we won’t be crossing the equator at all.”

Danny looked back to see if anything changed. Nothing did. “We’ll be in Panama soon. Probably in a day. Hopefully the GiW won’t be able to track our location enough.

He gave up soon after. He passed strips of plant life and watched as Damian silently took them. When Damian finished one batch, Danny passed him another. Once dinner was done with, all he had to do now was sleep, and dream. And think of the families that each missed them.

Damian shivered. His fins rattled from the motion. Danny crawled closer, reaching his hand out, waiting for permission.

“Do not touch me.” Damian whispered, voice still hollow. Danny’s heart took another wound, but he nodded regardless. He took a sack and emptied it, and draped it over Damian’s body. The rest of the night was spent tossing and bending his fins, and then in fitful sleep.

Chapter Text

Hazy fog closes around his mind. Danny turns in fits in his sleeping position. The water is cold, the ocean is eerily quiet. His mind is dragged back to a cold room at the bottom of the ocean, even as he claws the ground, unable to remain in the present.

Danny struggles, but his hands are stuck. His legs are tied together. He screams. Nothing comes out. He begs for help. Nobody hears. He cries for his parents to come save him. Nobody comes. Danny is trapped there for a thousand years and will never see the light of day again.

Nobody comes to save him when kind eyes and tender hands enter the room. The voice is sweet, and light, like a fairy god-uncle come to save him. Nobody comes to save him when the hands burned his skin with their touch. Danny’s fins rattle, shooting up straight like goosebumps.

Nobody protects him. Nothing protects him. His bare skin shivers in the cold air of the lab. His skin burns hot. Hot from shame, from disgust and violation. The kind eyes are not kind at all – they stare in hunger as bare and uncovered as his own body. It burns when needles plunge into his skin. It burns when the sigils are carved into his back, only to heal and then be carved again. It burns when the hands caress his cheek and the voice tells him it will be alright.

The voice is lying. It will always be lying.

Danny begs for the scene to go away. He has seen this all before. The room shifts. Red hair sways in the wind. Gunshots fire. Danny runs, but he cannot. He has no legs. He crawls back underneath glaring hatred. The eyes zeroed in on his heart grow. They grow and multiply and there are hundreds now. Hundreds of faces. Some in white suits. Some in brilliant Amani. Some in jumpsuits. Some in child-sized hoodies and jeans.

Danny’s vision shifts between the waking and the dreaming world. Details blend into each other like melting portraits. His lateral line senses Damian a million miles away and also right behind him and inside his guts with a sword. His ears register fictional water rushing, and very real vitriolic words spat out by fifty voices overlapping.

Danny’s eyes were thick with pearlescent slime when the real became fake again and the fake was revealed as the truth. The voices faded away into the background. The quiet of the ocean came back. Nothing like the clinical silence that drove him to tears in…

Danny jumped back. His scales shivered like rats under a microscope. He rubbed his body all over, the brushed it, then ground against his scales. Anything to get rid of the phantom fingers on his body, to get rid of the ghost touches that lingered even months later.

‘You need to ground yourself. Something to anchor your mind to the here and now. Let’s try a grounding exercise together, ok?’ Jazz said, once, when she caught him stumbling around the house at three am, skin matted in cold sweat and eyes wild like a cornered rat.

He saw himself. He saw his white scales and the bones underneath and the millions of nerves and blood vessels that you could only see if you squinted just close enough. And he saw Sam, smiling as she told him it was the most beautiful sight she’d seen in her entire life.

The supplies that he and Damian plundered from the Atlanteans, a chaotic and exciting fight that left him smiling on the inside even as he questioned the kid’s sanity.

He saw Damian inside his makeshift sleeping bag, the boy who had gone through so much pain, and will be forever changed, like Danny. He would not be able to shift like Danny’s half-human body could, nor talk or hide his siren traits perfectly and blend in plain sight. And the tears started again, so Danny forced himself to move on.

He couldn’t say if the grounding technique solved anything. Jazz told him as much. At least he felt alone again. Better than feeling the company of the evillest man he’d ever met.

Danny wiped away the last of the tears. The pearls that beaded up on the floor were swept away into the open ocean, never to be seen again. Better that Damian didn’t have more things to worry about than his failed rescuer failing even further.

The younger siren woke up soon after, shivering violently. He hoped Damian had better dreams. Danny passed another satchel for warmth, but Damian refused to even look at him, or take the thing. They had breakfast together in silence, as Damian rubbed his scales to stave off the cold.

They departed without a hitch. Danny’s cheeks continued to burn white hot, this time with guilt.

Jazz Fenton chanted in her head. ‘Go faster little brother. Please. Don’t stop.’

But it was futile. The radar showed him going too slow. The SAV would catch up to him today. Then they would capture him, and then-

Jazz pulled out all the stops. Every coping technique she could apply, she applied. She clutched Bearbert to her chest like a lifeline, like he was Danny’s lifeline. She took deep breaths and counted to them. She counted things she could see, hear, touch, smell and taste.

There had to be a way out of this.

Jazz turned around only to bump into the massive body of Bruce Wayne. If she didn’t know better she would’ve thought that she’d run into a brick wall.

A hand grabbed hers just as she lost her balance. “Steady there, Jasmine!” Bruce Wayne said.

Shit. The one person she didn’t want to talk to right now.

Jazz schooled her features into polite embarrassment. “Oh, s-sorry Mr Wayne! I didn’t realise you were there!”

For such a large guy, Bruce Wayne was stupidly stealthy. The man waved off her concerns. “There’s no trouble, Jasmine. You look worried. Is something wrong?”

Everything was wrong. Jazz went for a half-truth, something that can misdirect him away from her true feelings. “We’re so close to catching up to Phantom. I just… I want my brother back.”

She did not avert her eyes, but she did maintain eye contact up until the last word, upon which she turned away, and looked out into the window. Excessive eye contact was a tell for liars. Avoidance would make her suspicious. She had to maintain a balance.

Bruce Wayne leaned out the window beside her, and she almost screamed. Goddammit! Take a hint and fuck off already!

He took a deep long sigh. “So do I.”

Jazz counted the seconds until it was polite enough to leave. However, part of her was curious. “What was your disagreement with mom and dad about last night?” She said carefully.

Bruce Wayne rubbed the back of his neck. She had a gut feeling it was fake, but couldn’t prove it. “Well, as your mother said, we were just having a… discussion about Phantom’s fate.”

Jazz tightly grasped her tone and timbre, not letting her voice betray anything. “And what do you think we should do with him?”

The man sighed. “In all honesty, I don’t know. He needs to face justice for his actions, but how that will be conducted, I don’t know.”

Jazz’s chest heaved. For all his talk, Bruce Wayne was only less blood thirsty than her parents. That he was sympathetic to the sirens had no evidence. She was foolish to even think so last night.

But maybe he can be swayed, just as he swayed her parents?

“It’s not like you can put him in jail.” Jazz muttered.

“There are plenty of metahumans and other supernatural species in prisons. I should know. I helped fund their rehab programs.” Bruce Wayne’s tone was also even, like he was testing her.

“The GiW doesn’t have jurisdiction over metahumans and other supernatural creatures.”

“You’re afraid for him.”

Jazz’s heart rate spiked. No, no, she had to keep a handle on the situation. Do not catastrophise. Do not catastrophise. “You believe in rehabilitation, don’t you?”

“It’s all I ever dream of, for my city.”

“Is vivisection included in your plans for bringing criminals back into society?”

Bruce Wayne’s expression hardened by a fraction, something she only noticed from intensely studying his face as she spoke. “It isn’t.”

“What do us normal people do when the bodies trusted to dispense justice misuse their powers?” Jazz’s voice sharpened. “After capturing Phantom, and getting Danny and Damian back, what kind of justice can be dispensed that doesn’t involve humans performing the most inhuman punishments imaginable?”

Bruce Wayne’s eyes narrowed. Jazz felt seen through. Shit. She spoke too much.

“You don’t agree with your parents on sirens, do you?”

Jazz straightened her back, using her father’s genes to stand only a head shorter than the towering man. She stared straight up at his eyes, unwavering. “That was always clear. The real question is: do you?”

Bruce Wayne said nothing.

The day passed by without Danny even noticing. The sun began to sink into the horizon. It was probably about four pm or something now. Thankfully, the ocean’s surface wasn’t as populated with obstacles as your average road, or else Danny would’ve crashed many times already. He fought to keep his eyes open. After all that had happened, he felt so, so tired.

He looked to the moon for guidance. Apparently lots of more isolated tribes worshipped the moon. He could see why. It was vital for its role in creating the tides.

He always dreamed of walking on the moon. Fat chance of that happening now. Would it even listen to him if he prayed?

Danny nudged Damian with his shoulder. “You know, I’ve been told there are lots of sirens that worship the moon. Ain’t that neat?”

Damian buried his face into the crook of his green-scaled arm.

“Maybe we should say a prayer. I’m not a very religious guy, but maybe someone will listen?”

Danny tried a few more times to get a response out of Damian, but he was stone-walled out each time.

“D-Damian. Please. I know what’s happening to you is horrible, and I’m sorry I haven’t been helping as much as I should. But I genuinely didn’t know about your voice. You have to believe me. I-I-I was raised alone. I’ve barely known any other sirens in my life.”

Damian sniffed. Was he crying?

“Damian?”

Engines sounded in the distance. Danny’s blood went cold.

He turned around, and his worst fears were confirmed. His heart rate spiked. On the horizon, two jets skis closed in. Their speed and power blasted water into the air in their wake. He could recognise his mother’s red hair anywhere, but his heart spiked when he spotted Bruce Wayne on the other speeder.

“Father.” Damian whispered.

Danny went full throttle. He pulled Damian to his chest, ignoring the boy writhing to get out of his grasp. No. He couldn’t let his parents get their hands on Damian. How could he have been so careless?! Of course Bruce Wayne would talk to the ‘siren experts’ in town.

Hydroplasm rays pierced the surface of the water. Danny swerved to the side as one sailed where his head had just been. He jumped out of the water as another two almost hit their mark. Shit. All this dodging was slowing him down, and his pursuers got ever closer.

“What are you doing?! My father is right there!” Damian shouted, the loudest he’d been in over 24 hours. “Release me right this moment!”

“He’s with the Fentons!” Danny yelled back. A shot struck him in the back. Danny screamed. Tears formed in his eyes. “He won’t recognise you!”

“I must try! I can communicate with him in writing!” Damian redoubled his efforts to escape Danny’s hold.

“Are you insane!? The Fentons will put you on a dissection table before you can try such a thing.”

“Father would never allow it!”

“They’ll kill you!”

“Phantom!” Came Bruce Wayne’s voice booming through a megaphone. “Stand down now, and we can do this the easy way!”

“See?! My father is not a violent man!”

“It’s not your father I’m worried about!” It just came slipping out.

His mom’s voice came next. “You get back here Phantom and you will tell me what you did to my baby boy Danny or I will rip you apart. Molecule by fucking molecule!”

Danny’s blood froze. Damian ripped himself out of Danny’s arms. The boy emerged from the water, arms raised in a sign of surrender. “Damian!” He shouted. Shit. Shit shit shit. His mother aimed a gun right at Damian’s heart. Damian’s eyes widened. He turned around in an instant. Danny never swam faster in his life.

Seconds dragged into minutes. His mom pulled the trigger. Bruce Wayne yelled. “Maddie! Stop!”

Danny snatched Damian away. A weighted net launched at dizzying speeds. Danny just barely avoided its trajectory. One of the weights slammed into his tailfin and pain shot up.

The distraction rewarded him with a shot to the arm. With one arm clutching Damian and the other in pain, he could barely swim. The speedboats surrounded them. Danny’s breath hitched. He tried to flip himself and descend, but he only managed half a meter before another net ensnared his body.

He felt a prick on his neck, and Danny’s vision went dark. The last thing he saw was his beloved mother’s cold, calculating eyes.

His skin burnt. He felt naked again.

Chapter Text

Damian came to in a haze. His head pounded, his fins ached, like he’d been sleeping on them. He reviewed his last memories. He didn’t know whether to be excited or displeased at his capture by the Fentons. Tut. Of course they would have been in pursuit. However, the range on their sonars was only so long. How could they have been tracking him and Phantom?

He checked his body and grimaced. He’d been stripped of his weaponry, leaving nothing but his own claws. Damian scanned his surroundings. He’d been placed in a fish tank. Not just a fish tank, but a barren one too, lacking any sand or other occupants. The only other thing inside it was a water filter. His jail cell was placed in the corner of what seemed to be an empty room, with just a few chairs and a bed. On the other side of the room there was a window, showing a tantalising view of the open sea. It was night time. He’d been knocked out for an unknown amount of time.

Damian tested the top of the tank. It was sealed shut, and no matter what he did, it would not budge. It was very likely locked from the outside. He was trapped.

How ironic. Swam three thousand miles, with the expectation of seven thousand more to come home to his father, only for his father to come to him against all odds.

Damian watched his reflection in the glass of the tank. Dark green scales washed over his chin, cheeks, nose, and so forth. Nothing was spared. Nothing resembling a human skin tone existed on his body. Whenever he blinked, clear sheets of flesh slid over his eyeballs, nictitating glands. His ears stretched in open fins. If one squinted, they would recognise his tell-tale high cheekbones and slightly narrowed eyes.

Damian’s stomach lurched. He knew the extent of the changes, but to see them in clear view was startling. Of course his father didn’t recognise him, in appearance or voice.

If only he could write something down.

The door swung open. Damian’s hackles rose, only to lower when he saw who had entered. It was Father! 

“Father, you’ve come for me!” He shouted, only to deflate when all he heard was clicking sounds.

Father kneeled down to eye level in the tank. Damian suddenly felt extremely self-conscious, even though he knew this is how Father would speak to children so as not to scare them. He resisted the urge to fold his fins on himself and looked his father in the eye.

“Hello chum.” How darkly ironic of a nickname. “I’m sorry about all this, but I promise we’re not gonna hurt you. You’re safe. I swear it.”

It was not as comforting as Father had intended. Damian knew he would never allow an innocent child to come to harm, after all. What was more important was communicating his true identity without being able to speak, or write.

Father pulled out a tray, with a fresh fish on it. Damian wrinkled his nose. He intended not to let Father live this down when this was all over.

“Here. You must be hungry.” Father opened a hatch on the top of the tank. It did not open on Damian’s side. It must have been double-layered to prevent escape attempts.

Father pressed a button, and a door slid open, dropping the fish into the water. Damian hissed at the intrusion. He’d had enough of eating fish. Even if the flavour made his inhuman taste buds sing, his barely-human mind still protested it.

So he swatted it away with his tail.

Father’s eyes kept searching him, that nakedly sad look plastered all over his face. Damian wanted to vomit. He knew his father pitied him. Growing up with his mother and grandfather was not a fate Damian would wish on anyone, but Father always tried to hide his pity. To see it out in the open made his scales crawl.

“I promise it’s safe. You won’t have to go hungry. We can care for you.”

Damian glared at him. He twisted his features into the most Damian-like scowl possible. Please. Please recognise him.

“I know we’re a different species, and you have no reason to trust humans, but it’s true. You might not know who I am. My name is Bruce. I make it my mission to help others in need, no matter what they look like.”

Damian trilled. Father went into a sitting position, rubbing his wrists. “I’ve found a lot of children in my time. I’ve found a family out of nowhere, it seemed.”

Father pulled out his phone, and scrolled to a set of pictures. “See? This is my family. They were all like you, even if they’re humans.”

Damian leaned closer. Yes! This could be to his advantage.

Father zoomed in on a photo Damian knew. It was his family on Damian’s tenth birthday. He scrolled in on Richard’s stupid smiling face. “That’s Dick. He’s my eldest. He lost his parents very young, and I took him in. It was very difficult at first, but the years after Dick joined the family were the happiest in my life.”

Father moved to Todd’s face. Damian’s nose wrinkled. “That’s Jason. He tried to rob me when we first met.” Father laughed. “And I took him in too. And even if he and I have had some… arguments, I’ll never stop loving him.”

Damian really, really wanted to throw up.

Father went on to show pictures of each and every member of the family, gushing openly about his love from them in a way he’d never seen before. At a certain point Damian was half-convinced this man could not possibly be his father.

Perhaps losing a child gave him some perspective. But the ‘lost’ child was right there in front of him!

At last, Father moved on to the final portrait, Damian himself. Damian clawed the glass frantically. Father’s eyes widened. “It’s me! It’s me! Father it’s me, Damian! I am right here!”

But a voice came on the intercom. “Brucie! He’s awake! Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Father put his phone away. No! No! “I’m sorry, we’ll talk later. I promise you’re in safe hands here.”

Father stood up and left the room. Damian slammed his first against the glass, and screamed.

Bruce Wayne stood beside the Doctors Fenton outside the door. He’d interrogated hundreds of crooks and criminals of all kinds before, but not as himself. This was going to be a new experience for him in some ways.

It didn’t matter. He just needed Damian back.

Madeline pulled her hood over her head, hiding her eyes with gleaming red goggles. “Be careful Bruce. Sirens are a manipulative bunch. He’ll try to pull the wool over your eyes.”

Bruce nodded. He swung the door open. Like a firing squad, the three marched into the laboratory.

The first thing that he noticed was the smell. The room stank strongly of sea salt, and blood, for one, but there was another stench. It brought him back Dick’s days in the throes of puberty. And then Jason’s. Then Tim’s.

Bruce’s eyes traced the shape of Phantom’s scales. His clear skin allowed an easy view into his bones and skeletal structure, an eerie image for someone who looked so close to a human, and also so far. The translucency also highlighted the dirt and grime caking his body. His skin belly was sunken in. His fins looked frayed. He was too thin, too small. Having his first good look at Phantom, the ‘man’ responsible for son’s disappearance, Bruce was shaken by how vulnerable he looked. How young.

He couldn’t be older than thirteen.

That was by human standards, though. He knew nothing about these creatures, and he intended to find out.

Phantom’s eyes shot open. Immediately he began to struggle, only to fail. His wrists were strapped to the operating table. A metal brace secured his waist, and another one pinned his tail down. Another bracelet on his wrist prevented him from using his powers. Phantom was trapped.

Madeline tightened her gloves. “Phantom.” She spat. “You’re a slippery one, but not slippery enough.”

Phantom’s eyes widened. The siren stilled. “M-M-Maddie-”

“That’s Doctor Fenton to you.” 

Bruce hung back. The Doctors Fenton took centre stage. Jack loomed dangerously over Madeline’s frame, bazooka in hand. Her slender body was rendered in sharp shadow by the single light suspended over Phantom.

“We have some questions for you, Phantom.” She spat. “And you’re going to answer them.”

Phantom’s eyes narrowed. He squared his shoulders. The mask of defiance was one of the flimsiest Bruce had seen in his life. “W-What makes you think I’ll answer them?”

Madeline stalked around Phantom. She came up to his head, poise confident. “I don’t think you have much of a choice, I’m afraid. Just try to use your silly little powers. See what good it does you.”

Phantom did not even try, but that didn’t stop him from talking back. “I won’t need my powers to beat you and bust outta here.” He trailed his eyes on Madeline’s form, not like a hawk, but like a mouse in hiding. His fins were clamped flat against his body. Bruce noticed them trembling.

Bruce stepped forward, as agreed prior. He put on his stern face, the interrogation mask. “Let’s get to know each other a little better. How old are you, Phantom?”

Phantom’s breathing hitched. It was fascinating to watch his lungs expand right underneath his skin. If Bruce counted the distances right, his skin was a lot closer to his ribs than should be healthy, in reference to human anatomy at least.

“Eighteen.” Phantom said. His eyes darted to the side, and then looked straight at Bruce’s.

“I think you’re lying, but that’s alright – For now. Where are you from, Phantom? Somewhere sunny and warm?”

Phantom’s face looked puzzled, and stressed. Thick beads of sweat dripped down his scales. Visually their consistency appeared closer to slime or mucus than human sweat. “Some r-random trench. Somewhere. I forget. What it’s to you?” Another lie.

“You speak remarkably good English, for someone raised in the sea. Where did you learn it?”

“My parents. Who else?” Hearing him speak, it was clear he had the same accent as most of the Californian coast.

“And where are your parents now?” Bruce held his hands behind his back, pacing in circles around Phantom on one side, and with Madeline doing the same on the other side.

He did not miss the way Phantom’s eyes flicked to Madeline. “Dead.”

Bruce placed his hand over his heart. “I’m very sorry for your loss. I lost my parents too. It’s a horrible thing to lose your family.”

Madeline stepped forward. “Losing your family is one of the worst feelings in the world. It makes you wonder if going forward is still worth it. It makes you scream in anger at the world. It makes you want to hunt down those responsible.”

Phantom gulped. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Madeline moved in a flash. She shoved two pictures, one of each missing boy, right up at Phantom’s face. “These two look familiar?”

“V-Vaguely.” Bruce did not miss the slight manner in which Phantom’s eyes widened.

“You’re lying.” Bruce interjected, calm as a cube of ice. “If you cooperate with us, Phantom, we can all walk away without anyone getting hurt.”

“Where is my son, Phantom?!” Madeline screamed. Jack’s body shook.

“W-Why would I know where your son is?” Phantom’s eyes darted wildly. His heart skipped a beat. The siren’s heart had been beating quickly this entire time, giving away his stress levels. One of the disadvantages of having your organs on display.

The tells of stress, and more importantly, fear, were mounting. Bruce’s soft side was beginning to rebel. How far could they go before it was too far?

It was clear Phantom knew what happened to Damian and Daniel. Not so clear why he would withhold that information, unless he was being threatened in some way, or had something to gain from their being hidden.

Perhaps it was time for a good cop moment. However, Bruce was too slow. Madeline slammed her fist on the table, right next to Phantom’s ear fin. “You tricked my baby boy into being your accomplice, then you abducted him when he was no longer useful. Tell me what you did to him!” She roared.

“He’s with S-S-Skulker. Skulker got him!”

“Tell me the truth!”

Phantom’s eyes wobbled. White oil leaked from his eyes, like tears. His arms thrashed, but the restraints held firm. “I c-can’t tell you, I-”

“Wrong answer.” Madeline pulled a hydroplasmic gun out of nowhere, and shoved the muzzle into Phantom’s chest, aimed right for his heart.

“Maddie!” Jack cried out. This wasn’t in the plan. Madeline was going off the rails. Someone was going to get hurt.

The blaster whined. If Bruce made a sudden move, she might discharge the blast. However, a more powerful sound superseded the blaster.

Phantom keened. The sound echoed between the walls of the lab, its high pitch ringing in his ears. But it wasn’t a power. It was like an animal’s call. Like a call of distress.

The pearlescent tears flowed freely for his eyes. Phantom’s heart raced until it blurred. Instead of thrashing or struggling, his body lay limp, boneless. His lungs spasmed into hyperventilation. Phantom’s face turned away, eyes squeezed shut.

“I-I’m sorry. P-Please don’t h-hurt me.” Whatever words Phantom didn’t whimper at or stutter, were interrupted by terrified chirping. “Y-Your s-sons. T-tthey’re-“ Phantom choked. “They’re safe! I swear o-on my life!”

Bruce realised they had made a terrible mistake.

He wasn’t alone either. Madeline’s fingers slackened. Her arms trembled. Jack had retreated into the furthest wall by the door, stunned. In that moment Bruce knew they saw the same thing he did, a child.

An explosion rocked the boat.

Chapter Text

Several hours before Danny and Damian were captured in chapter 25…

“W-we’re so f-fucking close to them. I don’t know what t-to do. All this work and you guys helping me and it’s a-all gonna be for nothing and m-my parents I- I just don’t-”

“Jazz! U-Uhm, try the grounding thing you told us o-once. Y-yeah!”

Tucker’s voice sounded like he was going to need them about as much as Jazz did. Sam only half-payed attention to the conversation, for she was nose deep into her spell book, skimming over hundreds of words a minute in search of something that could help. Her secret burner phone lay on the other side of her secret hideout, secured away via a hidden trap door in her walk-in closet. Thank you Grandma, so freaking much.

“We can do this guys. Just need to work out a plan.” She muttered.

“Y-yeah Jazz! You’re doing so much! If it were me on that boat, I’d’ve cracked in minutes!” Keyboard clacking filled every word.

“Y-yeah. I know… It’s just… Thank you guys so much. I’m sorry it’s gotten to this.”

Sam sighed. Goddammit. Now was not the time for tears. It was the time for action.

“No. Thank you Jazz. We were the ones with no way out. If it weren’t for you, Danny would’ve been caught two days ago.”

“Stay with us Jazz. We’ll get Danny out, and we’re gonna raise hell doing it.”

Sam’s eyes settled on a footnote passage, hidden away in the margins. She gasped.

“Did you find something?” Jazz asked.

Sam gulped, her shoulders rolling back. Her head pounded with implications. “I did, but you might not like it.”

“It doesn’t matter. We do this or the damage will never be able to be fixed.”

Sam nodded, solemnly. “Right. This is what’s gonna happen.”

In the present…

Damian slammed his tailfin into the glass for the umpteenth time. His lower end was beginning to bruise from all the abuse, and he had nothing, not even a crack, to show for it.

Damian eyed the water filter in the corner. Pros of using it: He might be able to bust out in no time. Cons: If the glass were reinforced in some way, then he’d be back at square one in a tank without a water filter.

It was a risk worth taking. Worst case scenario, he could try working on the lid.

Well, no time like the present. Damian wrenched the device away from its position perched just underneath the lid. Holding it like a stone, he twisted his body back. His fins and arms in tandem, Damian slammed the filter into the glass. Bang! A crack appeared where he struck. He grinned sharply. He attacked again. The cracks spread. Damian slammed the glass one more time. The tank shattered in hundreds of shards. The water rushed out into the floor, sending Damian’s soft scales scraping over sharp glass. He winced from the stinging pain, but it was worth it.

Now he was so close to freedom. All he needed to do was find himself a pen and paper, or even a phone. Then this could all be resolved. He could go home, and they would work something out to reverse his cursed transformation.

Of course, he had no legs at the moment, but he was too dignified to allow himself to crawl like a fish. Damian coiled his tail and jumped. His fists latched onto the door knob just long enough to twist it open. Another day’s work as Robin.

Damian spotted another door in the hallway. He did not pick up the scent of anyone having passed by, so it was likely unoccupied. The hallway extended to the other side leading right up to an unsecured balcony to the ocean. Nary a lock or barrier preventing him from leaving, and regrouping. Excellent.

Damian needed to traverse the halls quickly. Who knows what would happen if he got caught. He made another jump into the hall. As he landed, he tucked his tail against his chest, and flattened his dorsal fin. The makeshift wheel he had turned himself into proved effective, if not dizzying. He rolled himself across the floor and bumped into the door.

It was unlocked. He swung it open. Inside he noticed a scent, familiar in some way that he couldn’t place. The room contained clothes fit for a teenage girl, and a small number of personal affects. He recalled the Fentons having a daughter and son. This was likely Jasmine’s room. He spotted a notepad on the desk, and a pen dripping with blood. What was she doing? What was she thinking?

Those questions would have to be saved for later. Damian leapt into the air, and snatched both items. He could almost taste his salvation. He was practically already saved from this hellish journey, and this hellish body.

A woman’s screaming filled the hallway. Damian froze.

Phantom had betrayed his trust. His incompetency and ignorance caused him so much pain.

If Damian wanted, he could write down in clear words. ‘I am Damian Wayne. I drowned, and my body was transformed into this form.’ And that would be it. His father would fight tooth and nail to keep the mad scientists off him. They’d sail back to land and take the next flight back go Gotham.

But what would happen of Phantom? Guilt gnawed at Damian’s heart. What was happening to Phantom now?

He could save himself right here, and right now, and leave Phantom at the hands of the people even Damian knew were lunatics in their hatred against sirens. If it weren’t for Phantom, he would be a corpse at the bottom of the sea. If it weren’t for Phantom, then Skulker would have made him into his trophy fish.

What kind of hero would he be?

A long time ago, he would have chosen to save himself without hesitation. He considered the past version of himself weak in spirit. A damaged child, beholden to the whims of a deranged old man, looked upon by Father and his family with fear in some cases, and revulsion in others, and pity above all else. When the looks changed into understanding, Damian had felt the happiest he had in years. How would they see him if he went back on himself? How would he see himself?

He knew. As the monster he was on the surface.

Damian searched the room. In the closet, he found an old nemesis, the Anti-Creep Stick. It was no sword, but once again it would have to do. He readied himself.

Then an explosion rocked the boat.

Hours before the boys’ capture…

“Focus, Jazz. Focus on your emotions. Why are you doing this? What’s at stake?” Sam recited the words her grandmother taught her years ago. She took a meditative position, as had Jazz per her instructions. “You need to grab onto those feelings. Don’t let go. Instead, let them flow through you. The fear. The anxiety. The anger. The frustration. Embrace them. Wield them with purpose.”

“My emotions give me power.”

“Your emotions give you power.”

It wasn’t going to be enough. There was no way Jazz could do the feats they needed her to do with an hour of sorcerer training over the phone. It just wasn’t gonna happen.

“Now, channel that into your fingertips. Allow it to shape the hydroplasm in your hands. Turn your emotions into will. Turn your will into power.”

She’d texted Jazz pictures of the runes they would need her to draw. But they wouldn’t be powerful enough. That’s why-

Jazz let off a strangled gasp. Sam felt like a monster for suggesting this idea, but Jazz insisted it was fine. It was the only way. This magic required the life energy within emotions to work. Jazz had no experience, so a substitute had to make up the difference. And what better source of life energy was there available than blood?

Sam watched the video feed. “You’re doing great Jazz. Just hang in there.”

Then it was her part of the plan. Sam grabbed a glass of water, and downed a pile of painkillers.

In the present…

Jazz took in a deep breath. The cold night breeze blew through her hair. Her heart shivered as the tranquility in her heart warred against the fear in her mind. Her parents and Bruce were in the lab, leaving her utterly alone on the deck. Below her, she eyed the engines and propellers of the SAV. Bandages wrapped around her left hand. In her right hand, she clutched a glass jar containing a glowing blue fluid, and wrapped in organic cotton, a shirt she had decided to sacrifice for the cause. The shirt bore bloody inscriptions and glowing blue runes, carefully put down according to Sam’s exact instructions. A second jar lay in her pocket.

Jazz dropped the jar. It sank into the water.

Her ears rang. The shock wave slammed into her body, knocking her into the wall. The explosion sent a column of water up thirty feet. It rocked the boat.

She hit the send button on a pre-prepared text. ‘It’s time.’

Tucker heaved his body through the window into Sam’s room, panting heavily. As much as his parents were still furious with him, he’d been sneaking out of their house and into Sam’s and Danny’s for months now. He crept into her closet, and knocked on her secret trap door.

He settled in to the space without a word, quickly setting up his laptop for the big moment. He booted up his programme, ready for the signal. He locked eyes with Sam, already in position, and they nodded.

Their phones pinged. Jazz had given the signal.

Sam’s eyes glowed. The air buzzed with ambient power radiating from her body. The pressure clamped on Tucker’s body. He would’ve been paralysed or shocked from it, if he weren’t used to it. Tucker went to work immediately. With all his preparations, he crashed through the firewalls on the SAV, and accessed the sonar and radar systems in moments.

Jasmine slammed open the door of the lab, breaking the stunned silence of the group. “Mom! Dad! They’re attacking!”

In an instant, the Fentons dashed out of the room, weapons in hand. “We’ll handle it. You stay in your room, sweetie!”

Jasmine nodded, and retreated. “Please be safe!”

A second explosion ripped the air open. Bruce clutched the lab countertop. Equipment and tools rattled from their secured positions. The operating table shook. Phantom whimpered, still hyperventilating.

The boat settled. Then the alarms went off. They bathed the world outside the lab in stark flashing red. Bruce debated going out to help them. However, the Fentons were capable of fighting off a few sirens. Instead, he turned to the siren, no, the boy strapped onto the table, interrogated like a hard criminal.

Bruce slowly approached him, shoulders lowering. Phantom thrashed in his cuffs, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He’d done it again, hadn’t he? Even after years of experience and learning, there were still times where he had failed miserably. Damian would never forgive him if he compromised on his morals just to rescue him. He had to make this right.

Phantom continued to sob. “P-please. I-I’m so-so-sorry. I did what I had to do. Please d-don’t hurt me. I don’t w-wanna die.”

Bruce held out his hand, a gesture of non-violence. Phantom flinched back. His voice twisted into a broken yelp. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have treated you that way.”

But it was like Phantom wasn’t even hearing him. His eyes went wild. He continued to struggle, like he was trying to escape a threat that wasn’t there.

Maddie stared in horror at the radar. Fifteen. Fifteen sirens. They’d already surrounded the SAV. The propellers were busted. The rudder had been blown off. Maddie slammed the emergency button. Immediately, the SAV’s armour plates slid off, revealing scores of weapons of all kinds. “Jack! Helm the systems!” She shouted. Jack immediately took her seat, and worked in a blur as he took control.

Maddie held a gun in each hand, loaded and ready. She sprinted to the railing. There she spotted them in the night. Dark blue dorsal fins peeking out of the water. Maddie opened fire.

One of the biggest considerations when using any supernatural power, or any power in general, was range. If you could attack someone from long range, and their spells or powers had a shorter range, then you would always have the advantage. It would be on your opponents to find a way to close the gap. If you can use your superior range to attack avenues of access like stairs or modes of transport, then you can theoretically keep your opponent beyond their range for as long as possible. Needless to say, range was a big deal.

This illusion spell had a range of three hundred meters.

How far was the SAV? Three thousand miles.

Normally, such a casting would be impossible. But Sam had three things going for her.

One: Tucker was already doing half the work. All she needed to do was make three or four dorsal fins show up above the surface. It was simple stage magic rules. Show something small to excite the audience’s imagination, and redirect them from where the real trick is going on.

Two: She was angry as fuck. And worried. But mostly pissed off at Danny’s parents and their fucking racism. And at Bruce Wayne.

Three: She was willing to do anything to save her best friend. Even if that meant sacrificing her body.

Truth be told, Tucker wasn’t there to hack anything, really. All his work had long been finished. No, he was here for her.

Sam Focused her soul. Energy ripped through her body, transmitting across the ocean and into Jazz’s body, from where it leapfrogged into the water and formed illusions.

It was a good thing she never told Jazz what would happen if she cast this spell. Jazz would never have allowed it if she knew.

Bruises formed in in her abdomen and thighs. Blood began to leak from her eyes. She pressed on. Tucker took a tissue and wiped the blood away. He rubbed ointment and salves on her bruises. The injuries continued. Her skin thinned. Tucker switched to wet wipes. Dry tissues would scrape it.

Sam pushed on. She directed the illusions to swim in circles as Mrs Fenton fired on them. Then, she had them all fall back about ten meters, just as Tucker’s program pinged, signaling it was doing the same with the radars.

Just a little longer. Just a little longer. Jazz needed more time. Sam Focused like she’d never Focused before in her life. She felt her mind wavering, the illusions losing their opacity. No, no, just a little. Bit. More.

Pressure built up in her finger. Tucker gasped. He moved quickly. A blood vessel exploded, spraying blood into the wipes he’d barely covered her hands with in time.

She held firm. Whatever pain she was going through, it was to prevent ten times that amount from being inflicted on her friend.

He only went missing because of her, after all. A vein in her neck burst open. “Sam, you have to stop!” Tucker cried out.

“It’s just a vein!”

Her hair dye melted away. Her hair strands frayed. They turned from their natural blond into harrowing white. She pressed on. Just. A little. Longer.

Tucker continued to bandage wounds as they burst open. He continued to wipe away the blood, and sweat, and tears and bloody tears and bloody sweat, all the while managing his programmes.

An eternity and a half later, Tucker pressed the last key. “It’s done. All we can do is hope it was enough.”

Sam was out before her body hit the floor.

Jazz sprinted down the hall. She had to move quickly. She needed the Anti-Creep Stick and fast. Dammit. Why did Bruce Wayne decide to stick around in the lab?! He’d been just fine joining mom in chasing after Danny earlier. Why didn’t he join them in ‘defending’ the SAV?!

Something wet and slimy bumped into her feet. Jazz tripped over herself and hit the floor hard. What was-

“Damian!” She whispered. The guppy was splayed out on the floor in a circle, clutching the Anti-Creep Stick. How the hell did he get out of his cell?! The boy gaped at her, letting off a series of suspicious chirps.

“No time to waste. I’m going to save Phantom. Give me the stick.”

Damian gave her a discerning look. After a moment, he nodded. Before handing her the stick, he gestured to the balcony with a carrying motion.

“You want to go into the ocean? But your father’s here.”

Damian repeated the gesture, more forcefully this time.

“Alright, alright. I’m trusting you here, even if I don’t know what you’re getting at.” She had no time to doubt the boy her brother had been travelling with for days. Jazz picked Damian up, a challenging task given the mucus covering his body. She ran up to the balcony. The guns were still out. Shit.

Jazz set Damian on the floor, near the gaps of the railing. She wiped her fingers on her shirt and pulled out her phone. ‘Grttng Damian off. Gund stikk out.’ She frantically typed.

“Can you stay here while I get Phantom? Once the guns are gone, you can jump into the ocean.”

Damian nodded, and Jazz ran back to save her little brother.

She winded down the halls, and made her way back to the lab. Her parents were still occupied on the deck, meaning she was clear. She crept around the lab entrance, as quietly as she could. Her brother’s whimpering could be heard. Her heart clenched. She was so close.

She also heard Bruce Wayne’s voice, lowered into a whisper. Whatever he was saying, it seemed to make Danny even more terrified. Sisterly protection flared up in her. She poked her head in. Bruce Wayne’s back was turned to the door.

She enjoyed slamming the Anti-Creep Stick into back of the man’s head far, far more than was warranted.

Bruce Wayne fell like a sack of potatoes. Danny’s eyes widened, but he didn’t look at her. He saw past her, at something far greater in the imaginary distance. He babbled half-formed words and choked chirps, begging for forgiveness. His fins shook as they clenched flat against his body. His heart was pounding. He hyperventilated. Jazz felt tears well in her eyes in sync with his. What had they done?!

The only thing she could consider a blessing was that he was unharmed.

Jazz held her hands out, slowly, gently. She tiptoed into the light, a soft smile on her face. She thought of a lullaby from a niche video game they’d played together once, before all this siren craziness had happened.

Jazz’s voice lowered to a quiet hum. She recalled the nights when Danny would come home, terrified and bruised after a siren fight, and she would hold him close, never asking a question, always in fear for her brother. Wondering how long this could go on.

'Like a boat, lost at sea.'

His eye movements slowed down. ‘With no sails. Not a breeze.’

‘I am drifting, cold waters.’

‘No star, to be seen.’

His murmured begging slowed, then stopped. The only sound left was his hiccupping sobs. Jazz sat down on the floor, so she was no longer looming over him.

‘Is the world too much? Or is it just me?’

‘Everything I set upon unravels at my feet.’

‘Everything I’ve le~~arned. Wasted on a girl who,’

‘Doesn’t know how to be free.’

Jazz found the keys, and went for the latches. Danny’s breathing gradually calmed from its erratic rhythm.

‘Like a bo~~at lost a se~~a’

‘With no sails. Not a breeze.’

‘I am dri~~ifting, cold wa~~aters.’

‘No star. To be se~~een.’

She went around, and began work on the other latch. She hummed the musical accompaniments, however sparse they were. She looked at Danny, her poor little brother. He looked back at her, understanding dawning in his eyes.

His voice croaked hoarse.

‘With a f-fire furious, I have,’ he choked, ‘…b-burned my tongue.’

‘Grief from all the promises… t-too many dreams unsung’

‘All the’ he hiccupped, ‘steps I didn’t t-take… and paths proved un-t-t-true,’

He begged in his eyes. ‘is there any p-path through?’

Jazz continued on the metal brace over his hips. The tears were beginning to blur her vision.

‘Like a bo~~at, lost at sea.’

Danny joined her, whispering his lines. ‘Though I’m about to wreck…’

‘With no sails. Not a breeze’

He lifted his hand. ‘You still have your life ahead.’

She held it in a tender embrace. ‘I am drifting, cold waters.’

‘No star to be seen…’

Danny’s outline faded. His skin turned to nothing. His body disappeared.

“Goodbye, little brother. Please be safe.” She choked out.

Cold, dry arms wrapped around her waist. Human arms, with human skin. She held him tightly, before the embrace ended.

Jazz sang the last two verses alone. ‘All things that lose their way, can find it again.’

‘There’s no inertia in the ocean...’

She prayed. Please, whatever god was listening. Help Danny find his way again, somehow.

There was one last thing that needed to be done. Jazz took the Anti-Creep Stick, and carefully aimed it. With all her strength, she slammed it into the back of her own head. Jazz was out like a light.

Please be ok, little brother.

The Fenton parents assess the damage, now that the ‘siren attack’ has long passed.

Bruce Wayne and Jazz Fenton lie unconscious in the lab. Phantom is nowhere to be seen.

Sam Manson lies unconscious in a hidden nook in her room, in a pool of her own blood.

Tucker Foley scrambles to treat her injuries.

Far more sinister forces lurk beyond the horizon. Panama is close, and…

Phantom and the baby siren who travels with him are long gone.

Chapter Text

His sister knew.

His sister knew, and she joined his parents on a hunt. She joined his parents to sabotage them, because she knew they’d catch up to him. She freed him.

His sister saved him. The tears that she helped stop broke through again. His sister knew, and she saved him. She still loved him, even if he was a monster.

Danny took one more look at the deck of his parents’ boat, and he jumped. He’d never been so happy to be in cold water in his entire life. Scales climbed over his skin. His legs snapped together, bones melding into tail vertebrae. The weapons systems on the SAV were down. Thank you Tuck. It had to be him.

Danny looked up at the hull of the boat, clean and free of barnacles. He turned to the vast depths in every direction. He should be running. He should be getting as much of a head start as humanly or inhumanly possible. There was no way he could come back. No way at all.

He didn’t do any of that. He just felt so… so tired. His body sank down to the bottom of the sea, which was admittedly not far down. His glowing scales and lines lit the way down. On the sea floor, he curled into a ball, clutching himself tightly.

What was he to do now?

His mission was complete. Damian Wayne was reunited with Bruce Wayne. Jazz knew about Danny’s true nature, so there was no way she’d not know that the spitfire of a green guppy was Damian. One quick explanation was all it would take for everything to end well. Bruce Wayne would bring his son home. And his parents-

He palmed the spot on his chest over his heart. His parents didn’t know. What if he just went home, pretended like he’d been rescued by someone.

Danny’s scales shivered like goosebumps.

The Amity Island sirens were probably long gone. Maybe they’d come back for more trouble next year, but maybe not. For all he knew, Danny Phantom was no longer needed in Amity. No longer welcome, if he was ever welcome in the first place.

His lateral line tinged. The light of his scales illuminated a small guppy swimming in front of him. Danny stared at Damian, the boy crossing his arms and looking over his body. How did he get out?!

“You are uninjured.” Damian said. It was the first he’d heard from him in over 24 hours. Danny would have cried in relief, if he wasn’t already trying to wipe the tears away from his earlier cry.

“D-Damian! Why aren’t you on the boat? Your dad’s right there!”

Damian sat down on the sand in front of him, fingering one of his fins. “This reunion is not amenable to me. You were right. My father is influenced by the Fentons. It would be safer to return to our original plan. I have more reasonable family members to go to in Gotham.”

Danny blinked. “But I thought you hated me.”

“I am still angry with you. And I have not decided whether I have forgiven you or not.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Regardless, nobody deserves to have done to them what the Fentons intended with you. I would have done away with them myself, but entrusted Jasmine Fenton to the job. You’re welcome.”

That was strangely heartwarming. Despite himself, Danny felt a small smile form. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence. Despite being in sonar range, the SAV did nothing. Probably Tucker blinding their systems. The idea that Damian would throw away this chance shook him, but-

Danny recalled the terror. The fear. The overwhelming dread underneath the shadow of a man who could snap his skinny body in two. Perhaps Damian had a point.

Damian scraped a bit of dirt on his arm fin. The two of them were looking worse for wear every day.  “If you are unable to continue, then I understand. I will go through the Panama Canal on my own. Thank you for bringing me this far.”

He grabbed the boy’s arm, stopping him from leaving. “What do you mean on your own?!”

“I will not blame you if you choose to abandon this quest.” Damian’s fins drooped.

Danny shook his head. “You’ve got no supplies, no food, no weapons. We’ve got nothing.”

“I will find more.”

“I can’t abandon you.”

“Even after I caused your capture?”

Danny hunched his shoulders. He filled with determination. “I made a promise, Damian.”

The boys stared into each other’s eyes, searching. Their fins flared, an unconscious fight for dominance. Damian loomed over Danny, defiant. Danny held firm.

“Very well. Are you ready to go now?”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t wanna linger around here much longer. Do you?”

Damian flipped himself so he was belly up. The boy glared at the ship above. “Not particularly. Let us go.”

It was morning when Jazz woke up. Her head lay on a towel and icepack. Warm sunlight streamed into her room. The back of her head numbly throbbed, a reminder of what had happened last night. Emotions simmered. Vestiges of adrenaline, anxiety and stress coursed through her system. Alongside them, relief. She had done it. Danny was safe.

A tear fell through her eye. Would it be the last time she ever saw him?

Jazz pulled herself out of bed sluggishly. The floor in her room and just outside still bore stains from Damian’s mucus. Honestly, boys.

She glimpsed the vast ocean outside her window. They were near the Panama Canal. That was probably where Danny and Damian were headed. It seemed the boys had a plan all along. Danny was strong. Not his superpowers, but his heart. Her little brother had persevered this far, and she hoped that knowing that at least one member of his family loved him for sure would allow him to make it.

For now, she had to face the music. What would her parents to do her?

“JAZZIE!”

Jazz jumped out of her skin. Her father’s feet stomped thunderously through the room. He scooped her up in one motion, crushing her ribs with a tight hug.

“D-dad!”

“Jazzie we were so worried!” Her father sobbed. “We’d just finished fighting off those abyssal abominations when we realised you and Brucie weren’t there! And then we looked in the lab and- and- and-”

Jazz patted her dad’s back. “There, there, dad. It’s alright. I barely even felt anything.”

“Jazzieeee!” Her father cried.

Her mother walked in soon after, a tray of food in hand.

“Honey, you’re smothering her.”

“Oh, sorry!”

Right as her dad let her down, her mother rushed up and engulfed her in another crushing hug. Lots of points in the ‘not smothering’ department there. “We were so worried. How are you feeling? Honey? Is your head alright?”

“Just a bit of a headache, that’s all. I’m fine, mom, honest!”

“Come here now.” Her mum pushed the tray on to her atop a wooden stand that had been lying in the room. “I’ve made you some chicken noodle soup, and I’ve got you some Tylenol for the headache. We’ve also screened you for any remaining siren influence.”

“I can’t believe it! That tiny green kid had it in him to mind control our dear Jazzie!” Her dad cried loudly, tears streaming down. “Are you sure you’re ok, sweetie? We can do some more tests.”

Jazz shook her head. “Dad, I promise I’m fine. I barely even registered anything happening. Just a blur in my head, then suddenly I’m awake in here. Where’s Mr Wayne?”

“We put him in the guest room. Your mind controlled self did a number on him! Guess we won’t have to worry about any human creeps getting the jump on you, eh?”

Jazz’s face twisted in (mostly performative) guilt. “I’m so sorry! Is he ok?”

Her mum shook her head. “Don’t worry about him, honey. He’s just got a bit of a bump on his head now. He’ll be fine.” Served him right for terrorising her little brother, be it intentionally or not.

Jazz rubbed the back of her head, still throbbing.

“It’s not your fault. It was the fault of those damn crafty fish.” Her mother’s face sank.

Jazz leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder. “What’s the damage then?”

Her dad sat down. “Well it ain’t pretty. The engines are gonna need recalibrating. Then the rudders fixed. Thankfully we’ve got all the spare parts we could need and more, but it’ll take a day and a half, maybe more, before we’re seaworthy again.”

“Can’t believe all that crying was just act.” Her mum muttered darkly. “Just buying time for his friends to show up.”

Jazz put her noodles down, and gulped a handful of pills. “What did Phantom do?”

“Mostly he tried to lie to our faces. Then put on a show of being scared and helpless. I can’t believe we fell for it.”

Jazz stared into her mother’s eyes. And what she saw shocked her. Instead of the conviction, the hatred and the determination that usually backed those words, Jazz found vulnerability. At first she thought it was because her mom thought she’d lost her chance to get Danny back. But none of that occurred in the days leading up to this event. Not once during this expedition had she seen such uncertainty.

“Mom? Are you ok?”

The uncertainty disappeared underneath a mask, underneath her red goggles. “I told you not to worry, sweetie. Get some more rest. Your father and I have a boat to fix.”

“That’s right! I don’t wanna see you running around trying to help us, got it?”

Her parents filed out of the room, leaving her to her thoughts.

Jazz went for her phone.

Tucker blinked himself away at the morning sun. Immediately he went for his laptop. He went into the Fentons’ systems, went into their cameras and detection equipment, breath baited.

The lab was empty. The sonars were clear. The radar was clear. He wanted to cry. They had done it!

“Yes!”

Sam groaned beside him. Right, he was in her room. “Please celebrate quietly, Tuck. You’re killing me.”

Tucker winced. Sam looked not much better than last night. She was swathed in bandages like some anime main character. “Sorry Sam.” He whispered.

“Did we do it at least?”

He lifted his laptop to show her. “Danny’s like 400 miles away. And with what Jazz did, he’ll be getting much farther.”

“Good. I’ll return to the land of the dead now.”

Tuck waved his hands in front of her. “Wait! What about changing your bandages?”

“Ugh.” Sam stayed lying down, but her eyes remained open.

Tucker got to work. His hands moved carefully around Sam’s tender spots. Her skin had regained most of its colour overnight, but was still sensitive. At some point, he put on the news on his laptop, like they had been since Danny left.

“Your grandma’s gonna kill me for letting you do this.”

“Not before she kills me first.” Sam muttered. “And not before I kill Danny for giving me this killer headache.”

Tucker snorted. “Be a waste of blood to kill the person you spent it all saving.”

“That’s why I’ll suck out all his tasty fish blood. Like a vampire.”

“Hah! I’m pretty sure Hamon and vampirism don’t mix Sam.”

Sam whacked him in the head with a pillow. “It’s the Focus, not Hamon.”

The news feed switched to a familiar image. Sam pulled herself to a sitting position. “Turn it up, Tuck!”

‘On to other news, it has been over 96 hours since Damian Wayne, heir to Wayne Industries, was viciously attacked by sirens. Only a day later, Bruce Wayne, father to the boy, set off with local siren hunters Jack and Maddie Fenton. They have not been heard from since. We interviewed government experts, Operatives K and O for their statements,

The presenter gestured to a large TV screen showing two of the smarmiest bastards Tucker had ever met (second only to, ugh, Vlad).

“We share our condolences to Bruce Wayne for his loss. The siren menace continues to plague this country and others.-‘

“Bullshit!” Sam shouted.

“As a result, we are calling for all citizens in coastal areas to be on high alert. These fish freaks are living among us, seeking out the weakest and most suggestible, and then luring them to the bottom of the sea to be eaten, or worse.’

“And what of Damian Wayne?”

Agent K lowered his head. He placed his hand on his heart. Tucker heckled at the terribly stilted and overwhelmingly dishonest display.

‘We regret to say that he was torn to pieces, and eaten. We will be pursuing his killer, a siren dubbed Phantom, to bring to justice.’

Sam clenched her first. “The only justice we need is for your entire organization to burn and every single one of you in The Hague!”

‘If any of you see or suspect Phantom, we implore you to contact our offices immediately. This specimen is no Little Mermaid, but a vicious predator who will take away everything you hold dear.’

The newscast cut away from the two men. The presenter continued with a constant cool composure, despite the grim subject matter.

‘Indeed, the attacks on Amity Island have gained national attention as a result of Damian Wayne’s death. However, there has nonetheless been pushback against the narrative presented by the GiW. In Baja California, Mexico, residents of a small fishing town were shocked to find an entourage of Atlantean soldiers escorting a group of illegal whale hunters. The poachers have since been deported to the United States, but not before they claimed to be attacked by a siren matching the mysterious Phantom’s description, in addition to another small green siren. Our correspondent in Mexico has the scoop.’

The newscast cut to a female Atlantean soldier and a young reporter.

“The boat was covered in ice, like it was the Arctic or something. So were the poachers. One guy was covered up completely except for his mouth. I’m sure we accidentally ripped off a layer of skin or two breaking it. Feel kinda bad, but they’re poachers so meh. Not to mention all the slime.” The soldier shuddered visibly.

“And what do you think provoked the sirens to attack the ship? Are the sirens just very conservationally-minded?”

She shrugged. “Hell if I know. My guess is the humans were creeping up on their territory.”

The news segment droned on to less interesting details. Tucker and Sam had heard enough.

“Damn, Sam! Looks like your ways are rubbin’ off on Danny.”

Sam chucked another pillow at him. Tucker dodged. “You mean he’s giving himself away. I hate poachers as much as the next guy, but he has invisibility for fuck’s sake. Why did he let himself get seen!?”

Tucker shrugged, mimicking the Atlantean woman on the video just then. “I’m sure he’s got a good reason somehow.”

“Or he forgot he could do that.”

“Or he forgot he could do that.”

Tucker shut his laptop closed. “Welp, if that’s all, I gotta run back before my mom doubles my grounding.” He winced.

The boy clambered out Sam’s window, and waved her goodbye.

“Thanks Tuck. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“We’re Team Phantom, baby! We’re riding high or dying, and there’s no in between!”

Samson Skulker stood over the edge of his yacht, a beautiful glass of red wine in hand. Below him, his trusty dolphin cohort surfaced, chittering information. The wound on his leg was healing nicely, and his suit was ready too. It was incredible. Simply incredible how much poor little Phantom could swim in a single day. Faster than any other sea creature in the world, except for his own species. It was an exhilarating hunt, even if he had to upgrade his engines over and over just to keep up.

“Panama Canal, you say? Well, well, well. This will be interesting.”

Skulker pulled out his phone and dialed the number he’d seen on TV.

“Hello? I’d like to report a Phantom sighting. I saw him heading towards Panama. I think he’s making Panama his next target.”

Let’s see how the little fishies squirm when there are a couple dozen more sharks in the water.

The water had been getting shallower, brighter. It tinged with the smell of wood and metal and oil. Seagulls cried from above. Damian knew where they were. Knew they were close.

To be continued…

Chapter Text

The Panama Canal was one of the greatest feats of 20^th Century engineering. Originally, ships that wished to cross from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean, or vice versa, were forced to make the long and arduous journey around South America, a trip that would take 20,000 kilometres, which would also mean our story would be much, much longer (or at least require more time skips).

It was not as simple as digging a ditch. Panama is a beautiful, but very rugged country, with hilly and mountainous terrain that halted the French in their tracks. That, and the copious mosquitoes. Landslides and rain beat back attempts to dig the canal in the 19^th Century. But the dream did not end.

How did the Americans do it? All they needed was a bit of lateral thinking. Instead of digging the entire canal and attempting to conquer the mountains and hills, engineers built a dam to flood an artificial lake, leaving a 15km stretch of unflooded land. This is where they built the remaining canal. In order to raise ships into the canal’s lever, they build a system of locks. Each lock would funnel water into the one behind it, raising the ship until the water level was even on both sides, and so on.

The Canal was vital in the war effort in World War 2, and it was a target of the Japanese I-400 programme, until Okinawa fell, and it was decided that destroying the locks would have had no effect on the war.

The canal also has its darker elements. 20,000 people died when the French tried to brute force their way through the mountains. 5000 more died even as American efforts succeeded. The American government further engaged in a number of shady political dealings in order to get the project rolling to begin with, and to control the it. It was only after 1999 that the country of Panama gained full control over the Canal, now a source of income and national pride.

This is where the story takes Danny and Damian.

“Land ho!” Danny cried out at the first patch of land. At last, after however many thousands of miles travelling (Danny had lost count) they were here.

“We are not sailors.” Damian grumbled. Maybe he was getting excited too. Danny could feel the way the kid’s fin’s thumped on Danny’s scales, like a puppy wagging its tail.

“Right, we’re just borrowing one of man kind’s most impressive engineering accomplishments for sailing.”

Damian huffed. “As sea creatures infamous for attacking sailors. Be glad we are not in the olden days, or our presence would have caused national, or international panic.”

Danny felt the urge to riff on the kid’s comment, but he remembered the stinging silence from yesterday. He decided not to push boundaries this early back into their kind-of make-up. “As it is I’m sure the authorities don’t mind that much. Probably don’t even believe in sirens. I think they’d just be angry that we didn’t pay the fee.”

With the canal in sight, Danny zoomed into the bay in minutes. The bay narrowed into a waterway leading inland underneath a huge bridge. Danny gasped at the size and scale of the thing. The boys continued up the bay. They dodged ship propellers, dove underneath hulking hulls. The water tinged with the smell of barnacles and metal. Nobody was out on the shoreline looking for sirens, which was a big plus, but Danny still kept a tight handle on his invisibility whenever they got close to the surface.

Soon, they reached the first lock.

“We gonna jump over or what?”

Damian trilled. “That would be an easy way to get spotted.”

“I can make us invisible, duh.”

“They would notice the splashes. We have not seen the GiW in some time, but I would prefer not to give them any ideas. We do not know who could be watching.”

With that, Danny found himself icing his body to the hull of some random cargo freighter. The ship approached the locks. They waited for painstaking minutes, watching the water level rise inch by inch. Once it reached the midway point up the next lock, the gates opened. Then the ship slowly inched forward. Then the water level inched upward again.

“This is gonna take for-freaking-ever.”

“Swimming around South America would have taken forever.”

“Uuggghhh.”

It would’ve been nice if there were some pretty landscapes to stare at for the next however many hours this would take. Sadly, their surroundings were all smooth concrete underwater, void of life and energy. Above water, it was the same, save for some small patches of grass and dirt lined the edges of the locks. Workers and vehicles milled about with their tasks on barren grey roads. The shipyard buzzed like persistent mosquitoes. Whirring machinery, shouted orders and gasping engines filled the air. He even felt a literal mosquito land on his nose when he surfaced to check. He was invisible! What the fuck!

So Danny dipped back underwater, hopefully drowning the little blood sucker. He didn’t want to know what a mosquito could do with his blood.

“What is the situation?” Damian asked.

“Boring. And normal, I guess. The stench is killing me though. God damn.”

Damian’s ear fins quirked. “Do sirens worship Christ?”.

“Uhh, not sure. I’m totally atheist though. Must be why the Fentons call me godless sometimes.”

The next lock finally finished opening. The ship continued inching painfully forward. The hum of its engine echoed back and forth in the ditch.

“Gahhh! Please. Move. Faster!” He banged the hull.

“Please stop complaining. You are contributing to the noise.”

Danny went to make another complaint, only for Damian to nip him in the ear.

“Yowch! What was that for!”

Damian went for the other ear.

That was when Danny sniffed a familiar scent. He slapped his hand over Damian’s mouth. “Wait. Something’s up.”

Damian froze. “What?”

The boys scanned the lock. They were alone in there, without a doubt. Danny’s lateral line only sensed Damian with him, and the scent of another sea creature would have been a beacon in the stale water.

Danny broke off from the ship. He melted his ice, just to be safe. The boy carried Damian above the surface invisibly.

“You see anything?”

“Just employees. And equipment.”

“Let’s look behind us.”

The water level had just about filled the up to the top of the gate behind them. There was little risk of being left behind by the next, seeing as Danny’s swimming speed would let them catch up with the boat in seconds. It took little effort for the boy to scale up the walls and peek overhead.

He was treated to a vast overhead view of the waterway. Danny hummed. All he could see was more machines dotting the side of the canal underneath tree cover, and beyond, the vast blue sea.

Damian squeezed his arm like a vice. “We have potential trouble.”

The older boy scrambled. “What? Where?”

“Down there.” Damian pushed the back of his head down.

Danny’s heartrate spiked. Just approaching the lock system was a familiar white boat. Nerves buzzed underneath his skin, like insects crawling into his scales. “I don’t understand. They have no reason to think we’d be here.”

“Perhaps they are just passing by. It could be a coincidence. Will they detect us?”

“Probably not. Radars to detect are expensive as hell, and only the Fentons know how to make them. They’d have to use sonar, and that can only happen if they’re in the same water as us.”

The boys dipped back into the water. Damian clenched his white shoulder. “We will be past these locks by the time they open for that boat.”

Danny nodded quickly. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.”

They returned to waiting.

His fins flipped back and forth in place. Back and forth. He counted the inches. He cheered every new inch the water level took. Why did it take so long just to move some freaking water?! His fins sped up, becoming a blur. They stirred up eddy currents and swirls. At some point he even felt eddies from Damian’s fins too.

Danny took a deep breath. Fear was the mind killer, or whatever they said. Even if his back scales felt like knives were raking over them, the rational part of his mind tried to insist it was all fine. They were probably just moving some assets to the Atlantic. A million and one different ships used this passage.

But it wasn’t right. His nose was good in this form, but not that good. That boat was over fifty meters away in a completely different body of water.

“Damian. There’s more to this. There’s gotta be.”

“Your nerves are contagious. Keep a handle on them.” Damian grumbled.

“I’m serious. I couldn’t have smelled that boat. It’s like a football field away on a different lock. It’s impossible.”

The swirls of water from the small siren’s fins ceased. Danny couldn’t see him, but he felt the weight distribution change a little, like Damian had just lifted his head. “This warrants further investigation.”

The boys resurfaced again. Danny climbed his way up the walls of the lock on the side. They peered over the edge, keeping their noses open. “I don’t see anything.”

Maybe he was overthinking it from stress…

Just then, Damian tugged his sail. “The other side!” He hissed.

Danny turned around. At the edge of the shipyard, his vision clipped onto two distinct white suits talking to some important look guy in a black suit and hard hat. The black suit guy pulled out a walkie talkie. Suddenly, Danny realised the water level had been still for some time.

His voice lowered to a whisper. “Damian, I don’t think they’re just passing by.”

“It cannot be. What reason would they have to suspect we would be here?”

“I don’t know.” Danny clenched his fists around the concrete wall they had been sticking to. “But this is getting bad.”

More men appeared on both sides now, carrying harpoons, hydroplasm guns, and water testing equipment. Quiet adrenaline fired into his fins. A warbling growl rumbled in his throat.

“What if we can swim ahead? You have the speed to outrun them.” Damian’s voice trembled unevenly. His hands shook.

“Damian, the water’s stopped raising. They’ve locked down the lock. If I jump, they’ll be on me in a second.”

“We cannot sit here and wait for them.”

“I know.”

Danny wasn’t doing much better. If he were in human form, his hands would be soaked in sweat by now. His head whirled. The agents seemed to be in every direction. The water still wasn’t moving. The gate was still shut tight. Danny could probably squeeze his body through some kind of gap, but Damian? He didn’t want to grind the kid’s bones into pulp.

“What if we fight them?”

“You don’t have any of your weapons, and I’ve barely had anything to eat.” No food meant no healing, and little energy to toss ice beams willy-nilly.

“Do we have no other option?”

He cursed the stupid freaking GiW. At least his parents had their moments. Nothing good ever happened when the goons in wetsuits showed up. The last time he and Damian saw them was in freaking Amity Bay! His head spun trying to figure out what had given them away. What could get them out of this situation?

There was one other option. The option Danny had desperately hoped would never have to be considered. But it wasn’t just Danny’s safety now. At least his parents had the decency not to dissect Damian (at least during their stay on the SAV). The GiW would be much less merciful.

Danny’s heart rate spiked. Do or die, then. Sink or swim. He gathered up every ounce of courage that still survived his parents.

“We do.”

“Do it now.”

Danny squared up his shoulders, acutely aware of how the scales on his arms touched those on his armpits. How the water touched his back with no clothes in the way. “Do you trust me?”

Damian hesitated. He could smell the kid’s reservation in the water. He counted the steps the GiW agents took, as if in slow motion. “I have no other person to rely on.”

“We won’t be able to cross Panama. We’ll have to go back the direction we came.” Guilt jumped into the party of stressors stomping on his nervous system.

Damian warbled, like a wounded animal. “I know.”

They were so fucking close. They’d just barely gotten into Panama, and it’s all been ruined and he didn’t even know why.

“Hang on to me. And whatever you do, be quiet.”

Danny placed one arm on the top surface of the lock. He used it to pull himself up and over the edge, pushing with his second arm. Slowly he pulled his entire body over the edge of the wall. Danny began wiping drops of water off his body. He could do it while still being completely wet, but it hurt like a bitch and took ages.

Slowly, invisibly, his scales receded into skin. His tail split open. Its bones reshaped into legs. His tailfin hardened into feet. Danny stood up, still clutching Damian to his chest. The boy gasped at the sudden increase in elevation. And despite being invisible, he could practically feel the boy’s judgement baring down on him.

The GiW agents were closing in.

Danny stuck to the dirt and grass. The asphalt would have fried his bare feet off. Not a pleasant sensation. A pair of agents approached the canal, guns in hand. Danny crept along the side, tiptoeing carefully so as to avoid making a sound and drawing attention.

As Danny slipped away, the pair of agents came up to where he’d just been standing. Thank god.

There was an issue though. The locks were obviously built uphill. That meant going along the canal would bring him through the treacherously steep terrain. Not a good look for a scrawny boy with no shoes who needed to be silent. One slip and the entire force would come down upon him.

Damian squeezed his hand. There had to be a way somehow.

Danny swallowed a thick lump. He formed a layer of ice. Despite it only being a few millimetres, it felt clunky and horrible to walk in, and would definitely make a sound, but it would have to do.

Just carefully. One foot over the other. Let the foot come down gently, like a bee’s landing. Danny walked out into the asphalt, just within earshot of the agents at the edge of the canal.

“Got anything?” The one crouching over it said. He was so tempted to shoot an ice beam and knock him into the water.

“Not yet. It could be hiding from the sensor. We’ll give it another five minutes.”

“It better be close. Sun’s killing me out here.”

One of the nice things about sirens is that they were quite sensitive to heat. Thanks to some nifty evolution, it meant that Danny’s invisibility extended into the infrared and ultraviolet range. That was the only reason he wasn’t getting sunburned out the wazoo, and the only reason Damian hadn’t dried out yet. The air was still very, very warm, but he didn’t need to worry about the radiation from the sun itself.

Danny managed to get out of earshot of those agents. His concentration was split between keeping this ice on his feet solid, and on keeping Damian from dying of heatstroke. The boy remained silent, as requested. Danny’s eyes snapped from one side of his vision to the other, hyper aware of his space, and of the dozen or so agents scattered around the perimeter.

Let it be known that he was no ninja. Probably the only saving grace he had was the fact that they were expecting an invisible fish in the water, and not a kid walking on land. One of the agents barked an order. The agents split into groups of two. The pairs scattered, probably making for the other parts of the canal. That meant two of them were coming his way. Danny’s breath hitched. Sweat dripped down his brow. He iced it over.

Damian’s fins hung low too. Their sharp tips brushed against his belly. He couldn’t stay out here long. He needed water and quick. The boy chirped quietly underneath Danny’s hand.

He ambled to the right of the matching pair. Best to get out of their way. For a bunch of guys in fancy suits, they walked quickly. But Danny couldn’t. His makeshift shoes would be too loud.

He was barely able to get out of their way, barely able to avoid brushing shoulders with the men who wanted him a lab rat. Relief cooled his system like his ice.

Then one of them stopped.

“Wait, G.” He turned around. Turned toward Danny. Hairs stood on end. Knees rattled. “Agent H!”

Danny was seconds away from bolting. Only Damian’s tight grip was able to ground him from doing something stupid.

The man pulled a bottle of sunscreen from his suit. “Agent H! You forgot your mandated sunblock!”

With the GiW agent breaking into a light jog, Danny had seconds to react. He threw his body to the side just as the agent rushed through. The motion pushed his upper body just an inch too far off base. Danny’s eyes widened. He flung his arms wildly, but he could not stop the descent.

He shifted gears. The boy twisted his body so it faced the ground. Damian clung tighter, his claws digging into Danny’s chest. He shoved his hands forward. No time to ice them over. Danny planted his fingers on the ground. Sunbaked pebbles seared his fingers. His tongue bled as he bit down the urge to cry out.

His scream was only muffled into a groan. The footsteps of the agent stopped.

“What?” The man whispered.

Danny became a statue. The man’s gaze crawled over his back like an ant colony. Danny’s pulse stomped around in his ears. In his burning fingers. Each millisecond a war between the urge to cry out, the emergency signals of heat and pain, and the adrenaline that he could not let out. Just hunched over, still.

“Agent F! I’m turning into sun-dried tomatoes here!”

At last, at long last, the aforementioned Agent F took off. “Sorry! Just got distracted by some mosquito buzzing.”

Fuck. That was close. Too close.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

Panama Canal.

What was that menace doing, heading for Panama Canal?

Maddie Fenton’s phone lay off to the side of the console. The new stream chattered. She paused from her work (really just staring at the radar) to refresh the news sites in English. Then whatever Spanish sites, translated by her browser. Nothing. A week ago she would have gone in guns blazing, ready to take out the pelagic punks and stop them from carrying out their dastardly plot.

With their engines busted, that plan wasn’t looking very good. After six hours of repairs, she and Jack had only managed to achieve a fraction of their original top speed. Enough to get them to Panama eventually, but not any time soon. They still had more repairs scheduled. It was only due to Jazz’s intervention that they sat down and took a break.

She wanted to work. She wanted to throw herself into metal and nuts and bolts. Anything to keep her mind from that face.

For years she had made it her mission to bring the sirens to justice for all they had done to her family and others. The few times she got up close to a siren they were vicious, snarling predators. She expected the same stubborn defiance from Phantom.

His resistance was token, at best. She could tell how scared he was even as he put up a tough face. Then he broke down, sobbing and incoherent. It was fake. It was all an act. It had to be. Phantom was stalling for time. He was manipulating her from the start. It had to be. It had to be.

How could it be?

She pulled off her gloves. She stared at the quivering hands, the hands that were a moment away from pulling the trigger. She was so sure she would have done it. He had to have known. He was an awful liar. Tried to misdirect and feign ignorance, and gave himself away every time. Who did he think he was fooling? And yet she could not steady her hands.

Maybe that was his con all along. Not even try to be convincing. Just babble whatever nonsense to lead them along like a string of helpless ducklings until help arrived.

Phantom had never worked with anyone else before. Not from his own kind, at least.

Maddie sipped a cold cup of tea. Maybe he had been migrating, and these were his original pod? If he were with his original pod, then there would be a lot more noise in Panama. The canals were narrow. Phantom was on the smaller side, but even two adults would have been noticed, right?

Did they even exist at all?! She had rebooted and reconfigured the radar, spending hours only for it to fail to detect any of Phantom’s pod. It was like they showed up for one moment, then vanished into thin water the next.

It wasn’t enough. The scientist in her demanded more evidence. Her hypotheses felt flimsy even to her, like there was something that was glaringly missing.

It all went back to that expression. That haunted anguish. Those streaming tears. The face that tore her vision away and replaced it with years of comfort. Years of holding Danny close. To that day when Danny showed up back home six months ago, the day a miracle came to her.

His face was the same back then. Maddie had rushed to hug the son she’d thought she’d lost. However, her baby boy flinched back, like she was going to strike him.

It broke her heart then.

“Mom?” Her daughter leaned into the door way.

“Jazz, I told you to take it easy.”

Jazz came inside, and sat down on the chair beside her. “I am taking it easy. Just getting some fresh air.”

She leaned to the side, her eyes discerning like they’d always been.

“Mom, are you ok?”

Dammit. Was it that obvious? Maddie shook her head. “You know me too well, Jazz.”

She pulled her daughter in. She held her and let herself be grateful that at least she was still here. That there was still hope, somehow. But that hope now clouded over with uncertainty.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

It shouldn’t be that way. Maddie was the mother here. It was her who was supposed to be comforting Jazz, but it was the other way around again.

“I just don’t know. Jazz. I thought I knew everything I needed to get the job done, but…”

But now she didn’t. Jazz nodded silently, letting her continue.

Maddie held her tighter. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Sweetie, I’m not sure anymore. Jazz, I can’t get it of my head. The way he looked at us. The way he didn’t. And I’ve been thinking about it for hours and I can’t make heads or tails on it. None of my theories can make up any kind of framework that could explain what happened.”

“Maybe it’s time to find a new framework?”

Maddie pulled back in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

“Find new evidence. If the current evidence contradicts established theories, then hunt for new evidence that could explain the discrepancies. And then establish a new more comprehensive theory.”

That… made a lot of sense. It was at times like these she marvelled at the brilliance of her daughter. But there was just one issue.

“But your father and I still haven’t finished repairs yet.”

“That’s ok, Mads!”

Her husband and Bruce leaned in to the bridge as well. Bruce Wayne’s head still sported a large bandage around it, but the man was looking much better for wear.

Jack continued. “It was obvious we weren’t as prepared as we could be. Otherwise the fishie little fiend wouldn’t have given us the slip. With the SAV busted, I say we take Jazzie’s advice and go on recon mode.”

Determination shined from Bruce’s squared shoulders. “Jack’s right. We can take the jet skis and catch up to Phantom easily. Then we can observe him ourselves or deploy a drone or two.”

That was surprisingly sensible. They needed more information. Then they could cross out the possibilities and the what ifs, and narrow down the truth.

More than anything, Maddie needed the truth.

Damian was beginning to get uncomfortable. The mucus coating his scales meant that they remained moist. However, he still lost water due to respiration. Not to mention the sweltering heat. Although he did not suffer the burning sunlight due to Danny’s invisibility, the humid air also contributed to his discomfort. As a fish out of water, Damian could tell he could not last much longer.

But his physical discomfort could only distract from the real questions in his mind for so long. Why did Danny hide this ability from him for so long? What was he so scared of? In hindsight it was logical that a siren with the ability to turn humans into their species could also turn themselves into humans. Damian felt the soft, human skin of Danny’s chest against his own scales. His cheeks just so happened to be laying where the teenager’s gills used to be. Now they were smooth. Damian numbly counted Danny’s ribs, which jutted out.

Why did he expect Damian to trust him when he still continued to hide things from him?

Danny walked into a clearing. He carried Damian far past the shipping yard that they had crawled out of, and into a building. It appeared to be some kind of administrative building. Damian nudged him with his chin. Where was he taking them? He walked through the glass sliding doors behind a member of staff. Cool air conditioning chilled Damian’s scales. Danny bee lined for the bathroom, finding it empty. He iced the door shut.

Damian found himself placed into the (thankfully clean) sink. Cool running water washed over his body, bringing much needed relief. Damian purred quietly underneath the cool tap. For a moment, the room contained only the sound of running water, and Danny’s heavy breathing.

Danny’s invisibility deactivated. Damian watched pallid skin appear out of thin air. Stickly legs shivering. The newly human teenager leaned against the far wall, panting. His chest had no gills, as he’d expected, and his skin was completely opaque. Black hair appeared where there was white. Eerie aquamarine was replaced with dull blue. A familiar face rendered bare of scales or fins was revealed. A very, very familiar face.

And instantly, everything clicked into place for Damian.

Chapter Text

“P-please.” Danny Fenton, son of the siren hunters Jack and Maddie Fenton pleaded. “You can’t tell anyone about this. I’m begging you.”

Damian nodded absently. This changed everything. This was- “You were a human. Just like me.”

“Yeah.”

“You were turned.”

Danny flinched. “It’s not a pleasant memory for me.”

“Is that why you know so much about the ocean, yet so little about sirens?”

“Hard to learn about your new species when they all wanna waste you for being half-human.”

That made sense. Everything made sense. He didn’t know about Damian’s inability to form human words because he’d never met a child siren before, never been a child siren before. He watched movies as a human. He fought the sirens who attacked Amity Island because that was his home. He had Fenton tech because he was a Fenton.

Damian’s scales went cold. He was a Fenton. His parents were siren hunters. Danny’s parents joined up with Damian’s father because both of them were looking for their sons.

Danny’s parents tortured him in order to find information on where their son was. They tortured their son to find out where their son was. Damian clutched his head. It was- It was agonising to think about.

As awful as his time was in his first home, his never home, he always had the love of his parents, even as twisted as his mother’s was. Every blow landed on him was training, with rules and boundaries (even if those boundaries were cruel). His father was even gentler.

Never had he ever known what it was like to have unadulterated rage directed at him from someone who should have loved him.

Danny’s breaths hitched. “Y-you can’t tell anyone. If t-they find out. T-they’ll.” Danny sucked in a breath. “They’ll- They’ll…”

Damian recalled what was done for him the first night they met. Met as sirens, and not the cursory greeting when Father was introducing him to the Fenton family. He pulled himself out of the sink. He dropped to the floor, whereupon he immediately slithered to Danny’s feet.

Damian lay his head on Danny’s leg. He attempted to channel that rumbling purr that was able to shut his body down in relaxation.

His companion, no, his friend’s shivering faded. Danny’s back slid down the wall, until he was sitting cross-legged. Damian climbed up his legs, and laid his head against the trembling boy’s chest.

“I will not let them touch you.” He whispered. Low purrs rumbled from the back of his throat. His chest thrummed like a bass drum.

Danny clutched him tightly. Damian’s purrs grew louder, stronger. Along with them grew a determination.

What would Danny do once this was all over? Once he returned Damian to Gotham? The least his father could do was finance a plane ticket back home to Amity Island, Danny had counted on nobody knowing his secret. Was he just going to swim back the way he came? Hitchhike? How long would that take? How many months would he have been missing from Amity?

How would he explain it all to his parents? Unquiet horror settled between Damian’s scales. He’d had it all wrong. It was not supposed to be Danny bringing him to Gotham. Damian needed to bring Danny to Gotham, to a safe home.

“I am… I am sorry. For treating you harshly.” He whispered.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Perhaps. But it was unfair to you.”

“I’ve been unfair to you too.”

Damian clicked. Such self-sacrificial idiocy. “Tut. I am not entitled to your secrets. You had very good reasons for keeping them.” That, and he could relate.

Danny’s chest rumbled, a response to Damian’s purr. For a moment the boy said nothing. Eyes closed, he leaned his chin into Damian’s hair.

“You know, you’re a kinder kid than the media says.”

“You’re a better hero than the media says.”

The boys quietly laughed together. For the first time, Damian felt open, like there were no longer barriers between them. He understood his friend.

Well, no barriers except for one thing. That was a secret that could perhaps wait for later. However, a friend should share in vulnerability. Danny had trusted him with a secret that could threaten his life if revealed, another item in the long list of sacrifices he had made just to keep Damian safe.

“My mother loved me. But she treated me terribly as well, as did my grandfather. I will never know the pain you feel, but you are not alone.”

Danny stroked Damian’s sail. He allowed it. “I’m glad you’ve gotten away from them.”

And Damian will get Danny away from his parents. This he knew. It had to happen. “Thank you. So am I.”

It was decided that her mother and Bruce Wayne would take the jet skis again. Her father wanted to join in, but was convinced to say on account of Jazz still having a concussion, and to keep the boat safe in case anything happened.

That was exactly what Jazz needed. To pick her father’s brain. She’d had precious little time to investigate her father’s thoughts this whole trip, an error she needed to correct.

Her chest felt like soaring frisbees. It soared with hope.

They had an early lunch underneath the searing sun and among the scenic sea. Sunlight beamed off the waves like liquid diamonds. A seagull cried out above. The air stayed cool underneath the shade of their umbrellas. With the engines dead, the rhythmic shifting of the waves in the background made up most of the sounds. That and their fan humming beside them as they ate. It was a turkey sandwich she’d made from the leftovers in the fridge. Her father was too dirty from work, so she’d insisted on it. “I’m concussed, not helpless, dad!”

He’d just finished another round of repairs. It amazed her what her parents could do in such a short amount of time. She hoped Danny would be far into the Atlantic by the time they’d finished.

“Dolphins.” She said, wistfully.

Dad looked up from his sandwich. “Say what?”

“Sorry, it was just a little detail Danny used to go on about. Did you know dolphins are jerks?”

Her dad shook her head. His eye brows quirked up. General marine biology was less her parents’ specialty than engineering and siren stuff. “No way. Aren’t they supposed to be playful lil buggers that rescue humans and do all that fun stuff?”

“That’s tamed dolphins in aquariums and stuff.” Jazz’s voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “In the wild? They’re one of the few creatures intelligent enough to be cruel.”

Her father gasped. He leaned in like a schoolgirl hearing a particularly juicy gossip bit. “What do they do?”

“All sorts of things. They play around with corpses of fish. They bully other marine life to death just for fun. They even force themselves on others.” Jazz coughed.

Her father’s eyes welled up with tears. Maybe that was a little too dramatic. Sorry, Dad.

“T-that’s so horrible! Why would they do such a thing?!”

Jazz shrugged. “Probably for the same reasons the worst of humans do it.”

“I feel like everything I know has been a lie!” Pfft. Get in line, dad. “Danno knew the truth about those salacious cetaceans all along!”

“Wanna know another little fact Danny told me?”

Her father nodded eagerly. “Of course! But please let me down gently. I don’t know if my poor heart could take another shock.”

“Sharks aren’t actually that bad.”

Her father leaned back and wiped his forehead, relief clear. “Oh! Thank goodness! This I already knew!”

“I know right! There are barely any actual shark attacks per year, and most of them are caused by the sharks being confused or scared.”

“It’s sampling bias through and through. People just focus on the sharks that do attack and don’t realise just how many have never hurt a human before.”

Her father was so smart. And so. Freaking. Dense. Jazz resisted the urge to scream.

“It’s thanks to the Jaws movies, dad. The director was so horrified at the public reaction to his movie that he’s disavowed it. Became a shark conservationist. Can you imagine?”

“I’d be horrified if my work was used for evil like that by people who didn’t know better.” Dad leaned back in his chair, a distant look on his face, contemplation that usually fit her mother better. Her father was more of an emotional intelligent person compared to her mother’s scientific acumen. That wasn’t saying much, considering they both held multiple PhDs.

“Welp!” Her dad got up. “Back to work! This ship ain’t gonna fix itself!”

This was going to take a while.

The first thing Danny needed was food.

He walked out of the building back into the sweltering heat, protected by his invisibility. He’d never had to maintain camouflage for this long before. Sooner or later, it was going to flicker, or he would lose his concentration, or worse. What was more, his body had spent precious energy healing his burnt fingers.

He felt bad for taking the tamales from some poor truck driver. He really did! Would he have done it again in this situation? Absolutely.

A couple of birds fluttered about. Danny had dabbed some water on his nose to transform it. Couldn’t sniff out anyone nearby.

“You think you can eat those birds?” Damian whispered. Danny gagged. Wasn’t he a vegetarian?!

“Dude. Raw meat tastes awful in this form, for one. For another: feathers. Also what about your morals??” Sam would definitely have words to say. Fish was one thing, but birds? Oh boy.

“Survival precedes dietary restrictions.” Danny was pretty sure that would get someone killed. Nut allergies in the wild and what not, but who was he to judge?

The agents had long scattered at least. That meant he could walk through the yard without needing to worry too much. Soon Danny found himself at the side of a road, watching the occasional cars pass by.

Time to start walking, then.

The second thing he needed was clothes.

After some time walking, Danny found himself a very comfortable pair of jeans and a t-shirt in a trash heap. Did it offend his sensitive nose? Absolutely. It definitely offended Damian’s sensibilities even more.

“What are you doing? These things are filthy!”

“Clothes are clothes, man.”

Danny pulled on the jeans. He winced at the rough texture scraping on his skin. Pretty sure jeans weren’t supposed to do that, but ok.

“You are invisible!”

“I’m an American with very American opinions on nudity, thank you very much. You wanna see naked people in public you go to some beach in Denmark or whatever.”

Damian groaned.

“Besides, it means I can save on invisibility energy.”

Danny let go of his powers, only to be beset by the unfiltered power of the sun on his neck. He immediately went invisible again.

“Idiot.”

Vroom. Vroooommm….

The Fenton Jet Skis’ GPS indicated they were getting close.

All this effort, and still no Danny to show for it. Maddie needed these answers, and she needed them yesterday.

Bruce seemed to notice her mood. He tapped the comm piece in his ear. “You saw what I saw, right Maddie?”

“Saw what?”

“He was terrified.”

Maddie glanced to the side. Bruce was still wearing the Abyssal Dismissal Belt. He was likely not being controlled. “How do you know it wasn’t some kind of act?”

“Instinct.”

Maddie narrowed her eyes. “We’ve studied sirens for the last twenty years, Bruce.”

“And this is the first one you’ve ever successfully caught.” Until he escaped, that was.

“It’s an evolutionary tactic for many species to mimic others, or mimic distress signals from other species to deceive them.”

“I know you’re the expert on sirens here, but I’ve seen hundreds of children in various states of pain and distress.”

Right. Bruce Wayne was a noted philanthropist and father to many adopted children. She’d forgotten the man they’d been sailing with for days was also a larger-than-life billionaire on the other side of the country. It was part of why she and Jack wanted to approach his company for grants, early in their career.

“I’ve visited many orphanages. I got many of them shut down. I’ve built many more to protect victims of crime in Gotham. And I promise you that Phantom’s panic was genuine.” Bruce said. Even though his eyes were on the water ahead, she could feel the intensity behind him. His words carried years of suffering. Not just his own, but others’. Maddie let it sink deep into her spine. On a deep level, she knew no explanation of hers truly fit the empirical evidence. Did that mean Bruce’s did? Maybe. And that scared here, for some reason.

“Sirens have gone unnoticed in our society for centuries. How do you know it’s not just part of their many abilities?”

“You make a good point, granted. You also saw his heartrate, didn’t you?”

Did she? Maddie remembered seeing red, and that was more than just her goggles. She’d barely even looked at Phantom’s chest, focusing on his face, his eyes. Searching for the truth in every lie blubbered out.

“It was racing. Probably close 120 beats per minute. Maddie, he was having a panic attack.”

That information was new to her. Maddie chewed her lip. The heart was the centre of an organism’s circulatory system. Its vital role necessitated the unconscious control granted by the sympathetic nervous system. She was sure that 99.9% of sentient creatures could not simply control it.

“It could be his baseline.” A weak argument.

And Bruce knew it too. “Phantom’s heart rate was steady when he awoke, about 50 per minute.”

The implications slithered underneath her jumpsuit. Maddie swallowed bile.

Chapter Text

Despite Damian complaining of the smell, Danny personally thought his new outfit was very comfortable, at least compared to the alternatives. At some points their little nature walk along the road brought them close to the river they’d swum up to get to the locks. They could’ve easily jumped in if they wanted, but the presence of GiW boats in a narrow passage made it a very unappetising option.

They also didn’t know what his human form looked like, but they did know about siren human forms in general. Once they realised the canal itself was empty, they would very likely transition into hunting him on land. Then there would be problems.

Danny picked up the pace. Jogging was easy when you could ice over your overheating muscles from the inside, a technique that had fascinated and disgusted his friends. To their right, the remains of the canal shipyards, and to their left, a large hill covered in trees and foliage overlooked the water. Wind rustled through the leaves and blew through his clothes. Ah, to be clothed at last. What a luxury.

As they walked, the boys made idle commentary on the scenery, including sardonic comments at the presence of a golf club on the hill.

“I should hope they do not punt any balls into the water.”

“I dunno. Could be a fun challenge. Imagine doing a hole in one across the canal!”

The shade was nice too. Even the air felt cooler underneath the trees. As they rounded the corner of the mountain, their next issue made itself known.

A car drove past them, only to stop and slow down at a check point manned by, who else, the GiW. At some point Danny was seriously questioning the Panamanian government. If he were in charge, he would definitely not let the US government just run roughshod over his country’s infrastructure. That being said, it probably wasn’t the first time the government fucked things up in South America, as Sam’s many rants had led him to learning.

Danny ran his finger along Damian’s forearm, earning a hiss from the kid. He slathered the mucus over his ear, turning it into its siren form.

“Shush. Lemme listen.”

He closed his eyes and concentrated. “Sorry ma’am. We’re with the US government. We’ll need to inspect your car for any siren contraband or smuggling. We’ll also have to test you for mind control.”

With that, another voice seemed to repeat the command in very apologetic Spanish. It seemed their translator was about as unhappy with the arrangement as the poor civilian.

“Tt. Amateurs.” Damian muttered.

Then came a very rapid series of what he believed was swearing from the driver, an older woman. Oh. He didn’t need his ears to notice the sandals smacking into the agents. Danny couldn’t help but laugh a little.

It wasn’t like the blockade would do anything! There was a whole-ass hill right beside him.

“How were these people ever a threat to us?” Damian muttered. He hissed at a stray branch jabbing into his ribs, batting it away.

“Probably all the money the government throws at them to buy weapons. From my parents.” Yeah it kinda said a lot that the only reason they were any issue at all were because of his parents.

Damian stiffened. If Danny weren’t holding him so close, he wouldn’t have noticed it.

Danny hiked into the forested hill. Great thing about clothes, Damian, is that they protect your very soft human skin from being sliced up by thorns and branches and other sharp shrubbery. “It’ll be fine. I’ve beaten these clowns a dozen times before.”

 “With allies, and a healthy body. And in the water. Be wary.”

Danny grinned. “But I still have my powers!”

“Tut. Be wary. Triumphant pride precipitates a dizzying fall.”

“Hah! How many dictionaries did you consume to be able to say that?”

“Five. And I do not consume books, I read them, unlike you and your sullen species.”

“I am literally human right now. And I read plenty of books.” Comic books, in fact. But that addendum didn’t stop the (invisible) smirk on his face. Comics books are literature too! Even if the canon keeps getting ruined every few years.

Damian began another retort, only for the forest to fill with alarm blares. The sounds overlapped and pounded in Danny’s ears. “What happened!?”

He was in human form, they couldn’t detect-  Wait. He slapped himself in the face. It was Damian. They’d detected Damian’s signature. Fuck.

“The forest covered up their smell. Dangit. The one time they weren’t wildly incompetent.”

His head snapped to the side, then he turned around. Nobody yet. Damian growled. “We need to get moving.”

“You can say that again.”

Danny wove through the branches amidst rising shouts, and alarms that continued to sound. He caught a glint on the side of a tree. One ice spear was all it took to take out a sensor. More still screamed.

“Behind you!”

Danny dove to the floor. A shot whizzed past his head. His body creased leaves and pressed the dirt.

“There’s the specimen! Take it down!”

Several more guns whined. Danny rolled to the side. He got up in seconds. The dirt exploded behind him. Three more shots fired into a tree, causing it to creak and groan.

Damian squeezed his arm. “Throw me,” he whispered.

Danny’s face went slack. “What?!”

“There are only two of them. They do not know my identity, and they have weapons.”

Yeah them having weapons was a very good reason not to throw you at the racist government agents, Damian! “You’re crazy.”

“The Atlanteans underestimated me similarly. Now hurry!”

Another two agents flanked them on the other side. Despite his reservations, Danny was forced to admit the kid had a point. “Fine, but be careful!”

Danny stepped back. He threw his arms over his shoulders, Damian’s waist held tightly. With all his strength, he hurled him like the screaming ball of fury and spite that he was. The boy flashed into visibility. The agents behind him screamed girlishly, a fact that he wished he could have recorded.

Instead he squared his shoulders at the two in front of him. It was G from earlier and another guy. Hello misplaced aggression. The goons cried out, preparing to fire on Damian. While the kid was still on top of their friends’ faces!? Well, friendly fire never stopped them. Danny flicked two beams. One froze the trigger on G’s gun solid, scoring half his hand as a bonus. The other got his friend’s gun muzzle. The agent pulled the trigger anyway, and was rewarded by scalding hot metal shards to the face for his troubles.

Danny’s eyes glowed steely black and blue. He fired off another salvo. His attacks bound their wrists and feet to the ground. At the same time, his nose tickled with a coppery odour. The screams of the men behind him reduced to pained sobbing.

“I am returning,” Damian declared. Danny had about half a second between that warning and the kid slamming onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck again. The extra weight almost knocked him off his feet.

“What the heck are you carrying?!”

The skin around his ears shivered. A gun charged right over his shoulder. Damian nailed a reinforcing agent in the shoulder. “A new acquisition. Now move!”

Only Damian. Only Damian.

So the stealthy approach wasn’t working out amazingly. By the time Danny had cleared the forest, and lost his pursuers, there were about a dozen men lying on the dirt in various states of pain. Danny jogged past the now-unmanned barrier, wondering if there was really any point to sneaking around.

Damian panted over his shoulder. They needed to stop for another water break. His friend wouldn’t last long without one. And he was feeling the fatigue of keeping his powers up already. He’d need another snack soon.

“We cannot afford another confrontation. It was lucky we had the advantage in terrain, and they squandered their numbers by walking in one by one. The next fight may not be as fortunate.”

It was an apt time to say that, seeing as their presence had definitely not gone unnoticed.

A large white truck barreled through the road, giving Danny an honest to god heart attack. He dashed behind an electric post without thinking. Luckily it hadn’t noticed him, but the road ahead reeked of further agents. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were checkpoints along every road and intersection from here to the beach.

“Like seriously. There’s no way Panamanian government could be happy with this. I’m not going crazy, right?”

“This will likely be an international incident, especially if my plan is to go through.”

Danny suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. “What plan?”

“It is simply the most logical way to proceed. As I said, we do not have the resources to fight many more battles. At some point, we will be encircled, and either be captured or severely injured.”

“So what’s your plan, then?”

Damian laughed. It was not the joyful, innocent laughter of a kid his size, but rather a cackle fitting a demon, or some sadist coming up with creative ways to inflict pain on his victims. Danny got very, very worried.

“Wrench!” Dad called out. Jazz pulled one out of the toolbox and handed it over.

“Nope, wrong tool. I need the, uhh the thingamajig.” Without a beat lost, Jazz passed some fiendish contraption meant for measuring hydroplasm levels, name still pending.

“Thanks Jazziepants.”

For a man who’d been insistent on keeping her in bed or out of any hard work, and whom had been specifically instructed to do so regardless, her father’s willpower was very weak when subjected to Jazz’s arguments. That was what led her to sitting in the engine room with her father, watching him put the hydroplasm back into working levels. She felt a little bad about making her dad spend so much time, but what guilt she felt would have been outweighed a thousand-fold by the pain of seeing her brother in their parents’ grasps.

Now she needed to know the direction of his heart.

“Dad, are you ok?”

He shrugged. “I’m ok as ever, Jazzie.”

“You’ve been worrying.”

Her father yanked out a faulty wire. “What kinda dad wouldn’t be? When I was a kid, my grandpa Fenton told me one day, I’d be the man of my own house. I’d protect my wife and my kids from those gosh darn delinquents of the deep. Of course, I ended up finding a lovely wife who’d protect me just as much as I her, but,” He swallowed.

“It’s ok. I’m here for you, Dad. Is it something to do with the interrogation?”

“Jazzie, look, I don’t want you to worry.”

“But it’s bothering you, right?”

Her dad’s boots arced inwards, like he’d clenched his toes. “Our only lead was Phantom. That’s the whole point of this trip. But we got him, and he wouldn’t spill. And I didn’t know what to do.”

“Were you hurt?”

“No. Nobody got hurt. But your mother… I’m sorry, it’s not something you should be hearing.”

Her father’s voice went uncharacteristically serious. No! She didn’t need protecting. She needed information.

“Dad, you and mom have been dreaming of capturing a siren for years.”

Her father’s body went still for a moment. He quietly screwed in a bolt. “I know. It was nothing like I’d ever expected.”

“In a good way?”

“I thought he was gonna fight. Or throw snark at us like the fish felon he is. It was what our research told us what would happen. But it didn’t.”

She said nothing, her silence prompting her father to continue.

“Jazzie, he… cried. And suddenly I realised that Phantom looked like a kid. Like Danny’s age.”

“That young?” Jazz said with fake surprise. “Do you think he still could’ve done it?”

“I don’t know. But he must be involved, somehow. In any case, we’ll still have to pursue him.”

Jazz leaned in closer. Her father’s goggles were off, which gave her an unblocked view of his eyes. Just like her mother, they faltered with hidden speculation with doubt. The relief made her cry, almost. “There’s no guarantee, Dad,” she whispered.

Her father sat up from the creep. He stretched his arms out, and pulled her into an embrace. “I promise we’ll figure something out. Your brother’s got the might of the Fentons in him.”

‘Specimen Phantom is in disguise. Be on high alert. Nobody is above suspicion.’ Agent H hummed. That damned fish freak. Crawled its way out of the water the moment trouble hit. Now everyone was mobilising. Agent H shut off the radio, having heard enough.

Frankly, he’d had enough of this damned country and the heat. He’d been got by at least three mosquitoes already, and this brief respite in the truck was all he’d get until another six hours spent underneath the tropical sun, looking for a damn slippery siren.

He hoped Phantom would turn into fried fish before he did. Goddammit.

That was not to mention the freaking local police, who’d been harassing them all day about their tasks. Ignorant locals. How could they not notice the threat lurking right under their noses? Without the help of his organisation, the Canal would’ve been wrecked, then who’d have the final laugh? Definitely not Panama.

“Be on high alert, H.” Agent I said. “Specimen Phantom and its accomplice just took out squad A in the trees.”

H turned to her. “And why aren’t we assisting them?”

“Squad B’s taken care of it. We need to cut of the specimen’s escape, before it reaches the open ocean.”

H scoffed. “We have enough manpower, I. These sirens are smart enough to get around us. We need to hunt the specimen actively.”

“And you need to follow orders, Agent H. The local government’s only barely tolerating our presence as is. One wrong move and there will be hell to pay, do you understand?”

Agent H grumbled.

“Do you understand, Agent H?” Agent I ground out.

“Yes, ma’am. I-”

Agent H was unable to finish his sentence. He slammed the brakes. He and Agent I jerked forward in their seatbelts as the truck screeched to a halt in front of a gruesome sight. In the middle of the road, two wooden stakes were erected. Blood stained the road at the base of them. Strung up to the stakes were two familiar uniforms.

“Agent G! Agent F!” He cried out. Agent H tore off his seatbelt. He snatched his hydro gun and rushed out. His blood ran cold. How dare that- that- that monster!?

“Agent H! Get back here!” His superior ordered. He ignored her. He needed to-

Agent H was right in front of the wooden stakes when he realised his error. What looked like G’s soft brown skin and F’s paler tan from afar became patchy, holed. It was no human, but a kind of mocking imitation made from dried reeds and branches.

That meant- Shit.

Agent H had no time to react. Brilliant blue blasted him across the road. He struggled, cursed, tried to reach his communicator, but his efforts were for naught. The ice bound his wrists together like concrete. In the corner of his eye, he saw Agent I put up just a few more seconds of fight, before a barrage of hydro beams took her down too. That was their weapons!

Shame burned his skin hotter than the tropical sun. The dirty, evil sirens opened the door to the truck, invisibly. He could only watch, as helpless as a trapped rat, the truck kick into full gear.

Chapter Text

Here’s a fun fact, Danny noted, as he sat in the driver’s seat of the GiW truck they’d stolen GTA style from the government. Despite having a father whose driving may be more dangerous than the sirens that he hunts, and parents who built a tank that can float…

Danny did not know how to drive.

But luckily, Damian did! Thank goodness. Guess that rich kid education was paying off.

The issue, though? Damian didn’t have legs at this moment.

Which meant that Danny was the one stepping on the gas, while Damian took the wheel, sitting in Danny’s lap.

Here’s a fun fact. Whenever Danny’s dad drove, he always used to think that it was the scariest thing in the world. The G-forces turning you into a ragdoll. The screaming and car horns from other people. The uncertainty of whether you’ll make it to see the next day.

On this clear summer day, Danny learned that there was something far, far scarier.

To have all of that happen, and you were the one at the driver’s seat.

“Step on it!” Damian shouted. Danny could only comply. Stray shots blasted past the windows, but the armored vehicle stood firm. Another blockade was up ahead, a blockade that was very quickly becoming vacant as agents scattered to the side.

Damian cackled maniacally. His howling trills filled the air and mixed with the screams of the agents.

“Should I slow down?”

“Negative!” Damian yelled. Danny was seriously regretting following this plan. Why couldn’t they have just walked and snuck around the barriers?!

The blockade smashed into pieces. The truck rammed through the gates signs like they were wet tissue paper. Well that went slightly better than they’d expected. But there was still the issue of the very large tail of vehicles pursuing them.

Danny looked back and forth nervously. “Please tell me you have a plan for those guys.”

“Shoot them.”

“What?!”

“With your ice. Give them a frozen tire or two.”

Danny gulped. He was used to a little fighting, but this was getting ridiculous!

Then again, it was the GiW. Yeah, go on then. Danny poked his head out the window. Damian had torn up part of his shirt (rude!) and forced Danny to wear it like a mask. He’d also put some mucus in his hear to make it white. It was a challenge to twist his body to keep pressure on the gas pedal while also looking behind him, but some siren flexibility helped.

There. A GiW car lead the chase behind him. One of the agents glared at him with all the hatred she could muster (so the same amount that he usually received from glares), and fired a beam that missed him by about 40 degrees. Yeah. Good luck with that aim. Danny returned by icing over the road. His powers created a right-facing ramp right in front of the car. The car could not brake in time and flung itself to the side. Then an armored SUV took its place in the front.

Danny grinned mercilessly. Maybe Damian had a point.

He narrowed his glowing eyes. His target was small, but its relative position was pretty constant. Just a little to the left… and that was just perfect. Danny flung an ice beam. It hit its mark perfectly. The tire of the SUV leading the chase froze completely. The vehicle skidded out of control. Then the truck right behind it failed to brake in time. Like dominos the entourage crashed into each other like a perfectly programmed sequence. The sound of car alarms and clanging metal filled the air like music as the boys sped away in their getaway vehicle.

That was not the end of it, however. Danny spotted more and more vehicles assembling from the side roads. Danny flung ice like a kid in a snowball fight, but he’d burnt most of the energy from the tamales earlier. He needed more food.

“Save your strength,” Damian called out. “We are almost at our destination.”

Before long, the countryside roads gave way to tall buildings and crowds of tourists. With the vehicles hot on their tails, Damian yelled at him to slam the brakes. At the same time, the kid swung the steering wheel hard left. The truck drifted on its side for a few heart-stopping seconds before coming to a halt.

Danny kicked the doors open. He and Damian were out in seconds, invisibly slipping into the gathering crowd of onlookers. He bumped a shoulder or two, and more than one person waved their hands over their noses, making a disgusted comment in another language, but the crowd meant more than one kind of invisibility.

The agents filed out of their vehicles in quick succession, looking to muscle through the civilians. However, a matching crowd of police officers met them, engaging in heated argument. Danny had the distinct feeling Damian absolutely intended this.

They walked through the streets of the town. Further away from the truck, the crowd became sparser, but it was still very busy. American brands lined the storefronts, and local street food venders populated the sidewalks. From the corner of his eye, Danny spied a prime opportunity.

He casually sidestepped the sleeping security guard on his way to a suitcase and backpack store. Damian side eyed him, or at least he felt he did. “Relax Damian, this will make things much easier on us.”

Did he feel bad about stuffing Damian into a waterproof backpack? Maybe. But look, keeping invisibility on for hours at a time was hard! He needed a little respite. Besides, the GiW were probably looking for a white-haired scaly menace, for all that he was careful never to show his fully human form to them.

And Damian wasn’t even gonna overheat and die of heat stroke! He’d been very careful to ice over the lining of the backpack to keep the kid cool. Now if only he’d stop complaining.

“I would like to put it on the record that this is an awful idea.” Damian punctuated his fifth complaint with a sharp jab into Danny’s soft human spine. Ouch.

“Dude, I am literally undetectable right now. What more do you want?”

“You look like a vagrant with a very, very clearly stolen back pack.”

Maybe Damian had a point. People were staring, and covering their noses. Perhaps he had miscalculated. Danny ducked into an alleyway and camouflaged himself again, even if it made his stomach churn. “Look, their scanners are pretty close ranged, but I’m using my powers, it’s way easier for them to detect us.”

“Tut. Very well, but you still need a better disguise. Move quickly. I can smell them filing into town even from here,” His passenger chittered. And move quickly he did. Danny ducked into a clothes store and yanked the first articles he could see. He was half-tempted to reject the clean clothes to spite Damian, but spiting the GiW by not dying seemed much more attractive of an option. Then he borrowed some food from a convenience store.

It was necessary for his survival, even if it made him ill.

With his slightly less homeless-looking clothes, Danny was finally able to show his face without looking like a street rat. Well honestly he still looked like a street rat. The kind of things salt water and four days of not showering will do to your hair. But he at least looked like a decently-dressed street rat.

The agents had already swarmed the town. Thank goodness the sun had dried his hair again, or he’d be clocked in a blink. They patrolled around the streets in pairs and harassed innocent bystanders about the siren menace, all the while an official-looking police guy yelled at an official-looking GiW guy.

“We are close to the shore. Keep calm.” Damian whispered.

Just keep calm as the people who want to dissect you look you right in the eye. Thank you Damian for the encouragement. Danny forcibly slackened his shoulders, and slouched his back. Just a normal teenager. Nothing to see here.

The edge of the town was just ahead, maybe a hundred meters. Just needed to avoid suspicion for a few minutes more.

Danny walked through the human-shaped landmine, suddenly distinctly aware he had no shoes on. Only three meters away, an agent scanned over a young man, then attempted to pat him down, only for the man to shout at him and pull away. Then two more agents showed up and held his arms down. Danny shuddered, but he forced himself to continue. Danny hid himself between two adults walking past. He held his head low. It was just like high school, avoiding Dash, he told himself. Just like high school.

He was inches away from leaving the outer bounds of the area when an agent called out right to him. “Hey you!”

What does he do. What does he do, what does he do what does he do?! Sweat pooled on his neck. Just play natural. Yeah. Put all the hours of Spanish lessons to good use!

Danny turned around, and with his most casual smile possible, said.

“¿Yo no hablo ingles?”

Even he cringed at how bad that sounded. Adrenaline pooled in his still legs. The agent rattled off some excuse the government was peddling, and then pulled out a scanner. Danny’s eyes widened. If he stayed, Damian would get detected. If he ran, he’d be outed as a sympathizer at the best. If he fought, then the whole world would know Danny Fenton was a freak of nature.

Danny’s brain moved a mile a minute, but his muscles locked in place. What could he do. What could he do.

His eyes locked on a pair of Panamanian policemen behind him, with grim looks on their face. He scrambled together the last vestiges of the Spanish class he’d barely been passing.

Danny sucked in a breath, and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“¡AYUDAME!” He shouted. Danny crossed his arms over his groin, and put on a pained expression. “¡LOS GRINGOS ME TOCARON!”

The agent blinked in puzzlement, like a deer in the headlights. His dumbfounded expression contrasted with the thunderous look that came over the Panamanians. Thank you Jazz for forcing him to actually study. Maybe foreign language classes weren’t all that bad.

Danny took the distraction and speed walked away from the premises, as verbal fireworks and fists flew.

The beach was in sight. Just a couple more minutes, and the GiW would never be able to catch them. Danny sprinted for the water. This close, the urban roads transitioned back to foliage and dirt again. He ducked underneath low branches, and jumped over fallen debris.

Then the air buzzed. The familiar scent of ozone permeated the space. Skulker.

His nose picked up the rocket. Danny lunged to the ground. A tree exploded into dozens of splinters behind. The shockwave threw him further away and slammed him into a rock. His vision shifted nauseously.  

“Put your mask on and run!” Damian shouted, having emerged from the backpack. Danny didn’t need to be told twice. He slicked his hair and booked it. Without his lateral line above water, Danny was forced to rely on Damian spotting for him. Skulker’s missiles exploded in mid-air as his friend took to intercepting them with his shots. More came through, forcing Danny to duck and weave through the storm.

“Where is he?!” Damian shouted. “I cannot get a visual on him.”

“He keeps flying into different spots to shoot at us. We need to get to an open field.”

Then came the machine blasters. The shots tore through leaves like they weren’t even there. Danny threw up an icy shield that deflected the shots away. Heavier blasts pelted the shield and forced him to reinforce it even more, straining his body.

Skulker’s voice cried out somewhere to his flank. “Over there!” Damian cried out. Danny threw an ice spear in the blink of any eye. It flew through the dense tree top. Seconds later, metal tore open in a screech. A smoking Gatling gun fell to the dirt.

Danny sprinted through the remaining thicket, and burst on to the beach. “Quickly, Danny!” Damian shouted. Stray gunshots blasted sand high into the air. Danny jumped behind an upturned wooden boat, ducked and rolled. The boat exploded into splinters, but otherwise shielded him from the blast. Danny tramped over seaweed and sandcastles alike, a mad dash for the water where he’d be in his element.

A net collided into his body from the side. The boys were thrown to the sand. The force sent Danny’s mask flying off his eyes, right as he spotted two familiar figures just off the beach.

His blood turned to ice. “Damian. Hide in the backpack.”

“What are you talking about-” Damian sucked in a breath.

“Get in now!”

In the water, standing on a jet ski, his mother lowered her binoculars, and suddenly she was racing towards the shore line at breakneck pace. Skulker laughed in the air. Danny threw off the net, dashing back into the jungle. He couldn’t get caught. Not now. His vision flashed with bright lights and glowing gun barrels.

“Don’t think you can simply run away from the mighty Skulker, whelp!” Skulker charged up another salvo. Just then, a blue shot tore through his arm cannon.

“Do not touch my baby!” His mother roared. She front-flipped off the jet ski and landed soundlessly on the sand. She charged for Danny, arms outstretched. “Danny!”

His foot landed on a patch of sand that didn’t sink slightly inwards like he’d thought it would. Danny’s blood turned to ice.

Sand erupted in a plume of yellow and white. His ears rang like high-pitched white noise. Danny barely registered the backpack being torn off his arms, Damian’s screeching becoming further, and further. The last he saw of Damian was in the clutches of Skulker, who shot him a metallic smirk as the man retreated into the sky. He smelled his mother and Bruce Wayne running up the beach. He nearly passed out turning invisible, aided by Skulker’s sand smokescreen. It was all he could concentrate on.

Danny stumbled behind his mother and Bruce’s backs, even as she yelled “Danny! Danny! Baby boy, where are you?!” into the empty beach. He stripped wordlessly in the water, turning skin to scales. But it was the lack of that familiar weight over his shoulder that made him feel more naked than anything else.

Chapter Text

Samson S. Skulker. Wealthy real estate owner, noted trophy hunter.  Been on safaris in Botswana, Indonesia, India, and other countries taking big game. Guy hunted just about everything. Elephants, rhinos, tigers, elk, only to come to Elmerton Bay, just an hour away by boat from Amity Island.

It didn’t take two brain cells to figure out why. The better question was why Phantom tried to point webbed fingers at him as to the whereabouts of Danny Fenton, a move that was transparently (goddammit Dick and your puns) a lie, according to Bruce. Tim Drake slipped into the man’s more private records without even trying.

Of course, getting the data out and parsing what it meant were two very different things. But he wasn’t trained by Batman for nothing. Skulker did make cursory attempts at hiding his electronic paper trail, but cursory was absolutely not enough to keep 13-year-old Tim out, let alone his current self.

Firstly, the man absolutely hunted more exotic, more illegal creatures. That much was clear. Borrowing some of Barbara’s programmes, Tim found the man travelling to much more remote countries. His little vacations coincided with missing persons reports around the same time.

Missing metas, to be exact. Each person with a power set dangerous to themselves and others. Each person having disappeared without a trace and then never to be found again. The picture Tim was building was getting grimmer.

Secondly, the man was buying parts. Robotics parts, to be exact. Engines, weapons systems, hydraulics. Many of them sourced from Vladco, the company founded by Vlad Masters, an old college friend of Jack and Maddie Fenton, who were the parents to the missing teenager of Tim’s current case.

But Danny Fenton did not have the meta-gene, a fact Tim confirmed after yet another concerning breach of privacy. He filed that detail away for later investigating.

Tim pressed a key, letting his programmes run while he got a coffee. Oh sweet delicious coffee. He had once distilled almost pure caffeine into a syrup. It was the most horrible thing he’d tasted in his life, but the buzz kept him up all night, that was until his heart started giving out. That was less enjoyable.

What was also less enjoyable was the revving motorcycle heading into the Batcave. Two motorcycles, in fact. Just as Tim’s afternoon was looking to be peaceful and quiet.

“Don’t fucking give me that, Dickwing!” Jason called out.

“I’m fine, Jay, maybe you need to stop hovering over me like some mama bear.” Dick put down his helmet with maybe a little too much force.

Jason hopped off his own bike. “That’s bullshit and even Timbit knows it.”

Tim shrunk into the Batcomputer’s chair. He so did not want to be a part of this. He just waited for his older brothers to carry their argument out of earshot, like they had been doing regularly now. The men traded strong words with every footstep across the cave.

“Maybe I’m just a little high strung. It’s honestly nothing.”

“You literally cannot fucking say that when I saw you going full-ass Punisher five minutes ago. Like the traffickers yesterday were one thing. Those guys suck. This dude was literally just a mugger. Are you going out of your fucking mind?”

“Jason, I thought you were supposed to be the one who’s all for going full Punisher style?”

Jason groaned loudly, and then transitioned into a frustrated scream. “Do you even hear yourself?!”

The changing room door slammed shut.

That was the second argument in the last two days. If you told Tim that Mr Heads-in-a-Duffle would be lecturing the Golden Child over excessive force, he’d start working on a machine to send you back to the topsy-turvy alternate dimension you’d come from, but apparently his dimension was the topsy-turvy one the whole time. And he hated it.

Turns out Dick inherited more from Bruce than he liked to admit, including his awful coping mechanisms. And to be honest, he was way too tired to even begin to breach this subject.

He should be happy that his literal attempted murderer was going to be out of his hair for a good while, maybe even forever. But even entertaining the thought made him sick enough to avoid the topic in his head for hours, only to think about it again, and get himself sick again.

So back to Skulker it was. Joy.

It turned out his new friend Skulker had made himself a fucking Iron Man rip-off suit, capable of flight, diving, and packed to the gills with fuck-you bazookas, machine guns, and hydroplasm weapons. Hydroplasm guns that he’d sourced from the Fentons themselves, through a long and complicated chain of buyoffs.

And happy day, the man was kind enough to install cameras and microphones, and kept logs from both.

In a surprising twist, it was fiendishly difficult to hack into those logs. Tim was honestly beginning to sweat. He suspected Skulker’s friends at Vladco (namely Vlad Masters, the sleezeball. Tim never liked him at galas and this only cemented his low opinion) had some secrets that they didn’t want out.

No matter, it was only a matter of time. Tim continued typing.

And typing.

And typing.

What the hell was this firewall?! Tim pinched his arm just to make sure this wasn’t a sleep-deprivation hallucination. He could’ve sworn he’d gotten through that layer of security. It was like it was shifting itself to cover up his progress and force him to start over. Almost like it was alive.

Against the thunderous backdrop of his brothers’ clashing voices, Tim set himself on overdrive. If he could just act faster than it could correct itself, then maybe, maybe.

A plain error message informed him of the results long after he’d already seen them. Tim kicked the table for good measure. The only thing he could extract was two frames of video footage. They showed, respectively, a T-shirt and pair of sneakers that matched what one of the missing metas was wearing when they were last seen.

Was it damning evidence? Absolutely. But it also proved to him absolutely nothing that he wasn’t already suspecting, nothing that could point him in a new direction. Still, it made his stomach churn. He hoped those people would get a better second chance beyond the grave.

Maybe the fact that the data was this well-hidden at all proved something.

The locker room door swung open, his brothers in civvies and glaring at each other, trying to appear civil in front of (right behind) Tim, even though they’d literally just been shouting at each other ten minutes ago.

“Timmy!” Dick called out. “How long have you been awake?”

Tim gestured offhanded to his pile of only two used mugs. “Not long enough. I’m still working. Can you take it upstairs please?”

Jason huffed, and stalked off upstairs without a word, probably too disgusted to be in his and Dick’s presence much longer.

Dick clasped his hands. “It’s fine, Tim. Honestly. Jason and I are just having a little, err, disagreement, is all.”

“Hm.” Tim inputted another set of commands. He was starting to see why Bruce liked to say that now. Avoiding painful emotions felt so good. Dick made a pained noise.

“Well, ok. I’m just gonna head back to Bludhaven now. Say hi to Alfred for me! And contact me if you need anything!” And then he sped off.

Tim shook off the awkwardness like old clothes. Thank goodness for some peace and quiet again. Maybe that was why he was working so hard to help Bruce get the demon child back, so he could return to the status quo, and not this. This hell reality where Dick was as emotionally constipated as Bruce and Jason was the one acting as the voice of reason.

The first night when Bruce called home, the entire family was in an uproar. Dick got a pale look on his face, and was halfway about to take the Batplane and go searching for Damian himself, only for Bruce to remind him that they were all still needed in Gotham and Bludhaven, and whatever few leads there were, Bruce would pursue. It was effortlessly logical, but it was clear Dick hated it. He stormed off in a rage that Tim had only seen when Ethiopia was fresh, when he and Bruce were at their lowest.

And Jason? He got this look on his face that he’d never, ever seen before. Tim had laid awake one night just contemplating it for ages.

Actually, no. He had seen it once before. It was Tim caught Jason looking into what Bruce was doing in the months after Ethiopia. Tim had subtly hacked the phone camera, and the look Jason had then was the same as how he looked when Damian was declared missing.

Tim shook his head. It was a gruesome image, what Bruce had sent them. Damian’s clothes ripped to shreds. The ground stained with his blood. No body in sight.

A little brother who may or may not be dead, something he may or may not be glad or sick to his stomach about. Brothers who were acting like completely different people, and a monster of a man who had to be connected somehow.

A ping appeared in the corner of the screen. The government siren hunting branch appearing in Panama?

Sam Manson sat up in her bed, her body finding some way to release the dread and tension. She looked on at her phone in horror and macabre fascination in equal parts.

This had Danny written all over it. She didn’t even need to hear the anchor confirming it to know.

On the one hand, she really wanted to applaud him for fucking them up this bad. The comment section was ripping into the GiW for their actions in Panama, treating the country like it was some vassal state they could romp around in. She personally screenshotted the fucking beautiful mass car crash the GiW had gotten into trying to catch him, and saved it into her favourites folder.

On the other hand, she really wanted to slap him for fucking up this bad. This could’ve easily gone wrong. Danny what were you thinking?! They could’ve got him that time!

And finally, she wanted to yell in frustration, because they had a radio communicator there. Goddammit! If only Tucker had known, they he could’ve hacked in and they could’ve talked to their best friend and actually got an update on what the fuck was going on.

And finally, finally for real, she was so glad, because the GiW would’ve announced it on every news channel if they’d actually managed to catch him. Thank fucking goodness.

Ugh, this headache. She really needed to lie down again.

Knock, knock knock knock knock, knock knock.

Dread pooled in her stomach. “Come in,” she said, resigned to her fate.

Grandma Ida, the person she least wanted to see right now, opened the door. She was the kind of woman who never carried herself very seriously, except for in matters of sorcery, and especially when warning Sam on the dangers of her craft. Dangers that Sam had ignored in order to go all out. Now she marched into Sam’s bedroom like an executioner.

Grandma stood at the foot of Sam’s bed, scanning her closely. “I knew I smelled tinged blood.” She went up to the side, and palmed Sam’s forehead. Her hand was freezing cold to the touch. “You should’ve called me immediately.”

Sam averted her eyes. She should’ve, but she didn’t.

Her parents never failed to get a rise out of her; she rejected their notions of female beauty and social etiquette in every way, their attempts to hook her up with Tim Drake-Wayne, then Damian Wayne, and she hadn’t cowed to them or submitted since she was ten. But with Grandma’s withering disapproval, she couldn’t feel more like a child if she tried.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“I warned you many times of the risks, Sammy. You’re lucky to be here, and not in the hospital or worse.”

“I know.”

Sam moved to lie on her side, facing away from Granny. Granny had questioned her decision to fight alongside Danny, but allowed it under the condition that she did so safely, and turning your body into a popping water balloon, but with blood, was so not the definition of safe.

And Danny’s fate was still in question regardless. He wasn’t able to cross Panama, and who knows what Damian was doing. What if it was all for naught?

A hand was put on her shoulder. “Did you accomplish what you were set out to do?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

“And was it worth it?” Yes. Absolutely yes. Danny bled every day for this god-forsaken town of ingrates. He’d bled for her mistake six months ago.

Granny seemed to understand her feelings. She nodded, and ruffled Sam’s hair, and the tension in Sam’s body drained away.

“Then I trust your judgement. Can you sit up? I’ve brought some more medicine for you.”

Sam pushed herself against the bunched-up pillows at the headboard. Her head spun from the motion, but she was never one to let her body’s limits confine her. “Thank you, Bubbe. I love you.”

Granny passed her a brew of herbal medicine, dozens of dried spices and mushrooms brewed together into a blackened sludge that felt like knives into your tongue, but which never failed to get her feeling better. It was a leg up from what big pharma tried to pedal for ten-fold the price.

Sam lifted up the mug to her face. And, oh yeah. Nothing like bitter liquid pain to help with a migraine. She let the hot tea flow over her taste buds, pathing them in cinnamon, star anise and a million other things.

She finished her tea in one satisfying gulp, running her tongue over her teeth and scratching out the lingering aftertaste. As she put the mug down, it revealed Grandma’s face hovering right in front of her. Sam yelped in shock. “Bubbe! You gave me a heart attack!”

Bubbe smiled devilishly. “So what did you do?”

Sam’s mouth gaped open. Leave it to her Grandma to almost kill her from emotional whiplash.

“Now come on, this is a monumental moment for a budding young sorceress like yourself. Why, when I was twenty-two, I used to run with some heroic types myself. We had all sorts of hijinks together.” Bubbe cackled and clasped her hands, eyes going wispy. “My friends got a heart attack when I pulled off my own hare-brained scheme to topple the evil overlord of the week’s central command. Hah!”

“What?!” Then Sam coughed, and lowered her volume. “What do you mean ‘heroic types.’ You just told me you went to some stuffy academy and eloped.”

Bubbe shrugged. “I did do that. Must have forgotten the extra stuff.”

Sam blinked.

She moved to sit beside Sam on the bed. “We got up to a lot of fun back in the day, and a lot of pain too. I did what I did to protect those I cared for. Did you, bubbeleh?”

She held Sam’s hand with a look that reminded her just how many years Grandma had lived, and how many adventures or stories she had yet to tell, how much heartache she’d had to endure to become the woman she was now. “I projected an illusion all the way off the coast of Panama. It hurt like nothing else in my entire life, but…” She paused. “We got Phantom out. He’s safe now, I think.”

Grandma Ida nodded solemnly, the kind of understanding that Sam craved from her parents every waking moment of her teenage career.

“I don’t want this to be a regular occurrence, ok?”

“Yes, I promise. This was an extreme circumstance.”

“Good. Now, are you well enough for some meditation? It would do well to keep your soul energy flowing.”

Ok, but you have to tell me what you got up to back in the day.”

Granny chuckled, and agreed to it. Sam kicked off her covers, letting her legs get some fresh air. She was probably pushing it, but she needed to recover as quickly as possible. Who knew when she would be needed again?

Maddie Fenton kneeled in the sand. Her hands clamped down on her gun. Her knees shook. Tears prickled in her goggles.

Her baby was right there. He was so close. So fucking close. She could almost touch him, even now.

And he ran away from her. And at first her heart shattered into a million pieces, just like it had when he’d come home after his first disappearance and flinched when she hugged him.

Then she realised. He was protecting her. Some metal menace was shooting at her defenseless son like it was some kind of sick game. The monster of a man had laid fucking landmines on a public beach.

It should’ve been her protecting him.

Bruce Wayne returned to her side, empty handed. They’d scoured this entire beach. Danny couldn’t have gone far, she had thought, only for their search to turn up with nothing.

That left only one option. That her enemy doubled back after fleeing, and snatched Danny up without either her or Bruce noticing. Maddie’s heart sank. She should’ve aimed for the head.

A name pinged in her mind. Phantom had whispered it to her. Skulker.

With nary but nod, she and Bruce mounted their jet skis again.

Chapter Text

Damian, for the second time in as many days, awoke in a tank, a fact with which he was extremely displeased. The last thing he recalled was his stomach lurching, the bag he’d been stuffed into serving as an excellent package for Skulker to make off with him. Damian longed for a good blade to sink into the man’s body.

That fact was amplified by the feeling of cold metal on his scales. Damian scratched at the golden bracelets cupping his arms. He was dressed up in luxurious gold and jewels like a lecherous sultan’s slave. A ringed belt-like piece of silver wrapped around his waist and looped over his hip fins. Two more golden rings, each adorned with gleaming rubies, cupped the thinnest portion of his tail just above his tailfin. Despite his best efforts, he was unable to relieve himself of any of the filthy things. They were fitted tight as a glove, almost like they were made for his measurements. Damian shivered, and turned to more productive activities.

His new prison cell was at least more amenable than his last. In fact, it was a little too amenable. Damian found himself in a veritable miniature aquarium. If it weren’t for the reflection of his scaly face in the glass and the lavish (and frankly, tasteless) furniture beyond, he’d have thought himself in the actual ocean. The bottom was padded with beautiful white sand, populated by towering coral structures and schools upon schools of fish, jellyfish, and even a few manta rays. Stalks of kelp rose to the ceiling of the room, as the tank was that tall. Seaweed swayed in an artificial current. Damian picked up the sound of a wave machine gently pushing against the surface of the water.

Tapping the glass proved it was not some common fishbowl’s glass. The barrier between the water and air was at least two inches thick, something even a human Robin would find trouble with, let alone his current state. A golden shine caught his eye. Damian tutted. His fins rattled. It seems Skulker’s poor taste knew no bounds. Solid gold pillars lined the corners of the tank, and ran along the top and bottom.

With a closer look outside the tank, Damian clocked the numerous animal heads lining the walls of the room. Even more baffling was the inclusion of beautiful hand-crafted stone bird fountains scattered around the walls and mounted on posts in the room, populated by, of all the things, red duck candles. An old fashioned writing desk and chair sat facing away from the tank, decorated with what else but more preserved animals, and even more tacky candles, as if they were bought from the novelty shops that Richard would occasionally visit.

Outside of his already-revolting interior décor tastes, Skulker was a hunter. Went after rare and exotic creatures, Danny had told him. Damian’s eyes narrowed. Now he understood fully what the man was after. The abduction, the drowning, the pursuit, the sudden presence of the GiW in Panama, the entire reason for this trip in the first place.

The better question now was whether he was the prize, or the bait? And Damian suspected he was both. After all, Danny had made it very clear how much Skulker wanted his pelt specifically. Why go through the effort of making such a luxurious fish tank for a dead teenager?

There were so many other sirens in the sea, though. It made perfect sense that Damian would be the bait, but why also the prize?

He had caused a media sensation when he’d first arrived in Gotham. Tabloids ran for months, drooling over the gossip and rumours surrounding the mysterious biological son of Bruce Wayne. He’d been swarmed by mobs of rich snobs trying to pair their daughters with him, until his biting tone chased most of them off.

While Skulker wanted to make a coat out of Danny’s scales, he probably also wanted to allure of having such a mysterious and exotic pet. A pet that he’d had a direct hand in creating. Damian’s cheeks heated. He gritted his teeth. Of course. Here he was as much a trophy as the heads on the wall.

The door swung open. Damian bared his teeth. His fins flared wide. If he had his way, he’d be sinking them into the man’s jugular. Instead he was forced to bear Skulker’s smug smirk. He walked in, dressed in black cargo pants and a tank top instead of the customary hulking metal suit. Damian’s scales ran cold as the man looked over his body, bare except for jewelry he himself had placed.

Skulker went to the desk and retrieved a microphone from the drawer. He flipped it on, causing a brief whine in the tank.

“Good afternoon, Damian Wayne. I trust you find your new accommodation satisfactory?”

Damian hissed at him. “If you set me free I might let you live.”

“Hah!” Skulker laughed. The man reached into another drawer and pulled a can of beer. “I’m afraid the world outside is far too dangerous for a little guppy like you. You’ll be safer in here.”

“My absence has already been noted. You will not be able to get away with this!”

“Do you truly believe that, little boy?” Skulker shotgunned the beer in one. “Your little friend Danny wasn’t recognised by his own mother at gunpoint. And even if by some miracle they came here, what would you do? Squeak at them?”

Actually, he would tap out a message in Morse Code, but Skulker didn’t need to know that. And this time he would not hesitate.

Still, that brought up another concern. Skulker did not know he was Robin. As far as he believed, Damian was just some spoilt rich boy. On the one hand, it meant that there would be underestimation, and from there an opportunity. On the other hand, any overt competence he displayed would do badly for the family secret.

What a conundrum.

“So what do you intend to do with me, then? Sell my scales? Bed me?”

Skulker gasped in genuine shock, not the fake politeness that he’d seen Father’s parasites give off. “Did you not know? I am Skulker, the greatest hunter in the seven seas! I am not some kind of sicko. All the pleasure I need comes from the thrill of the hunt! And you have been an admirable quarry, and may now live out the rest of your days in comfort as my greatest trophy.”

Despite his ‘reassurance,’ Damian distinctly thought this made him even more of a sicko. “And what of Phantom’s pelt?”

“Danny will be my greatest coat, or a handbag. I’m open to options. Probably won’t even die the first skinning, what with his regeneration.”

Definitely a sicko. This man would fit right in on Gotham’s rogue’s gallery. Damian had disdain for hunters, especially trophy hunters, but to chase after someone whom you know is human? He recalled the fiery siren girl’s words back at the cave near Amity. To go after your own kind indeed. And Danny had the confidence to casually banter with this man like it was Tuesday?! Not to mention while being shot at by his parents, and the government.

Robin always had Batman, and the family, and the Justice League beyond those people. There were times he craved independence, to strike out on his own and prove himself, only to sorely regret it when it inevitably went pear-shaped. And yet Danny did all that and more, and the only adults in his life wanted to kill him.

“Phantom is thrice the man you will ever be. To covet his skin will only bring you ruin.”

Skulker pressed his face right up against the glass, grinning sadistically. Damian hissed back. “What does a baby sea monster know about manhood? Or ruin, for that matter. Let me spell it out for you. You. Have. No. Rights. Nobody who has those rights is coming for you. I could parade you around animal conservation centres for all the world to see and as far as the law is concerned I’d be as innocent as a newborn babe.”

Rage boiled over. Damian snarled. He lashed out against the glass, clawing uselessly at the barrier. Skulker only laughed harder. Damian slammed at the glass with his tail. His tail rings clanged against it uselessly.

“You’re an adorable trophy. I ought to put a little bell on you, like a kitten.”

The man left soon after, cackling like a TV supervillain (or just a regular real life supervillain, honestly), leaving Damian to stew in his rage.

He was not one to stew for long. With rage, there was never inaction.

Danny stuffed as much seaweed into his mouth as he could fit in his arms. He shoveled shellfish in like a waterslide. His belly bulged with how much food it was taking, and yet kept shrinking rapidly. Danny slashed open a fat fish. He sank his teeth into his flesh, ripped out the guts, then threw the rest out in seconds. It would take too much time to pick the flesh between bones, so he just killed another. Then another, and another.

He’d exhausted himself, and got Damian caught by fucking Skulker. That mistake couldn’t happen again. He couldn’t fail Damian again.

He tried to ignore the way his skin crawled just from how close his mother was. How close Damian’s dad was. If Bruce Wayne learned how badly he’d fucked up, Danny would be a dead fish and he wouldn’t even complain. He deserved it.

Danny ate, and ate, and ate.

He sniffed the water. It was Skulker’s dolphins. The trail was heading away from the shore. Danny swam faster than he had ever swum before.

It seemed Skulker had anticipated many of his first ideas. Damian found the water filter practically welded to its spot. His new ornaments proved useless at breaking or dislodging anything. He’d even found the larger rocks of the aquarium affixed to the bottom and immovable. The pebbles gathered up in bunches at the bottom proved ineffective as well. At the top, Damian found a hatch, probably for maintenance and cleaners to enter, but it was sealed shut. The tank featured no other entrances or exists. What he saw was what he got.

Even if he could break the glass, he didn’t even want to. He was not the only unwilling resident of this tank, but he was the only one with lungs. That left the top hatch as his current best option.

Damian swam into a nook, and began to plan.

This was not ideal. No weapons, no tools, a body for which measures had already been taken. Of course, Danny might come for him. He might. He’d heard an explosion moments after he was snatched right off Danny’s back, then there was the issue of Dr Fenton and his father. To expect Danny to be swift was unreasonable. 

In fact, it might be Damian who needed to save Danny. 

Which was to say he could not afford to lounge around. Simultaneously, it was possible he’s be forced to play the long game in his escape attempt, and the longer he had to endure Skulker’s lecherous gaze, the more chance he might pop a vein or two. 

Time to work on it then. Damian swam up to the top. He knocked against the hatch, testing its durability. To his surprise, there was just the slightest amount of give. Perhaps with a pebble, he could pry it open. A crowbar would’ve been preferable, but beggars could not be choosers. 

Seizing stress overwhelmed his tiny body. His subconscious recognised it first. Then his conscious mind registered the rattling of everything in the room. The boat shook, as if rocked by an attack. Damian dashed back behind a rock. He waited for a moment. 

Skulker did not come. Perhaps Damian had underestimated Danny’s tenacity yet again. This represented a prime opportunity. While Skulker was busy fighting Danny, Damian could escape and then assist. 

So he got to work immediately. He picked up the largest pebble he could get his scaly hands on. Then he went to the bottom of the tank. Steeling his nerves, Damian kicked his fins in sync. He undulated his body in one fluid motion, and surged with blinding speed. The metal clanged loudly and echoed in the water as he slammed as hard as he could against the hatch. 

It budged a quarter of a millimetre. Damian could hardly believe it. Then he did it again. And again. What he lacked in body mass he made up for with supernatural speed, pebbles in hand bashing against the hatch. He could not hear any more fighting or gather information on the situation outside the ship. The drive to get back to his friend fuelled his resolve, let him ignore his bruising knuckles and aching elbows. Damian surged up and attacked the opening once more.

His heart sank. The door was pushed open enough to reveal a padlock and chains covering the outside. Curse that Skulker! Damian yelled Todd-esque obscenities as he clawed uselessly at the chains. The lock was too far in the air for the water bound boy to reach, the opening too narrow to fit his hands through. He was Robin! He had no intention of letting a demented two-bit hunter with an ego the size of Lake Michigan get the better of him. 

So Damian coiled his tail like a spring again. He imagined all sorts of hateful and unpleasant things plastered over the hatch. The Fenton parents. The Joker. Grandfather. 

Nerves fired up, Damian snarled a barely-human battle cry. He launched himself faster than ever before. One second he was at the bottom. The next he was-

The next second, Damian found himself above the surface. Barely registering his surroundings, he let his gills open up immediately. Did he break the hatch? Was this super strength?

He was on some kind of platform over the tank, like the kind at aquariums for trainers or feeders. There was a tight constrictive feeling around his waist. Damian looked back, and his eyes widened.

The doors had budged, but only by a few inches. The lock and chain remained, albeit stretched out. And Damian? His waist compressed through the tiny gap like an octopus. He made out the gleam of the silver belt and necklace on the other side, wrapped around his tail, which should have been too big for them to fit, and yet Damian barely felt inconvenienced. 

Well. This changed things. 

Damian gripped the metal platform and pulled. He distinctly felt his organs squelch. His stomach had been pushed into his chest cavity, finally returning to its normal spot as his waist came through. His hip fins folded in on themselves. Then each of his bones in his tail bent like rubber bands, his scales sliding through with the help of his copious mucus secretions. At last Damian’s tailfin went through the gap, thin enough to not require any nauseating body modification. Unfortunately, the rings above it were also small enough. If he had the time, he’d have forced them off. 

He didn’t have time, though. Danny was out there and he needed his help. With the help of his mucus, Damian slithered snake-like over the metal platform, then down the stairs at the side. 

Skulker’s trophy room looked even more garish when there wasn’t glass covering his view. Damian spat on the carpet in disgust. Indeed, he was already intending on slathering a generous trail of mucus over the expensive decor, but it was not just about the raw damage. It was about sending a message. 

Damian began to roll across the room. However, just as he went underneath one of the fiendishly ugly bird fountains, another explosion shook the room. Out of water, it was able to ring at his ear fins. Damian was startled out of his wheel position, splaying himself on the floor. 

The shockwaves rattled everything in the room. The water rippled. Mounted animal heads jerked up an inch before returning to their hooks. The post holding up the bird fountain just above Damian jerked to one side. Before Damian knew it, a small waxy weight fell on his side. 

Everything in his body burned.

The jet ski’s radar pinged bright. Their drone in the air confirmed it. Turns out Brucie Wayne had some nifty contacts. Managed to figure out this ‘Skulker’ fellow was the proud owner of a yacht, and had connections in the human trafficking business. Jack felt sick to his stomach.

Brucie should’ve come with them, should’ve been there to rescue their sons by his and Maddie’s side, but he was still injured from Jazz’s mind-controlled swing, which meant it was just the classic Fenton pair once again. He felt another tinge of pride for his daughter’s arm. But mostly, he felt ready to tear this Skulker apart molecule by molecule.

He just couldn’t believe it. Maddie’d seen him. She’d seen Danny. He was right there and she was just that close and then-

He relaxed his body and took in a deep breath, just like Jazzy said. Whatever was going to happen, he and Maddie were going to give it their all, and get the boys back. Then this would all be over.

Five kilometres north. He glanced to his side, where Maddie, the love of his life, revved her craft. Now or never.

Their presence did not go unnoticed. Jack’s goggles picked up dozens of rockets in the air. His scanners detected torpedoes in the water. Without a word, Maddie was firing at will, and Jack manned the jet skis’ systems. Counter-torpedoes launched from tubes underneath their seats. Mini-guns sprang from their concealments and opened fire.

“Jack, there’s one flanking you!”

“Go high!” He yelled back. Jack spotted the lone torpedo moments away from hitting his ski. On cue, Maddie’s jet ski shot ten feet into the air off the back of its thrusters. Jack waited until it was within striking distance. He pushed the handle bars to full throttle as his ski’s backup thrusters went into overdrive. He shot off away from the torpedo at a sharp right angle. Once he had enough distance, Jack directed the blasters to intercept.

The yacht emerged from the horizon. From hatches and panels along its hole, a veritable arsenal primed itself to fire. Looked like Brucie’s intel was solid. Now it was his and Maddie’s time to shine. Jack charged his weapons, he nodded affirmation to Maddie, and together they went into the fray.

Chapter Text

Damian clenched his jaw. Pain erupted from every pore. He tried to reach back and push the candle off him, but everything hurt. His muscles spasmed. Nerves fired at random. His vision blurred. Damian jerked his body forward, but it was like his muscles were turning to jelly, resulting in only a tiny nudge. His brain scrambled for answers. No wonder there were no further security measures. This was not a normal candle.

Blinking through pained tears, Damian vaguely registered a green droplet on the floor. His blood froze. That was not the clear slime that coated his skin. Suddenly, amidst the pain, the lack of coherence in his body was not an illusion.

He was melting.

The timer ticked down on Damian’s fate. He screamed. His heart pounded and pounded, but the blood went to muscles that refused to respond. For the first time during this journey, Damian felt icy, blood-curdling fear.

The call in his throat swelled without thought. Damian opened his mouth, using all of his strength that hadn’t started dripping onto the carpet, and shrieked.

His parents were here. Danny gulped. What the hell were his parents here, and why were they shooting up Skulker’s rich asshole yacht? Mom was there, yelling obscenities he’d never heard from her mouth before. One of Skulker’s dolphins leapt up, mouth open to bite. His mother whipped around with a savage battle cry. Her fist collided with its jaw, sending it high into the air. On the other side, Dad weaved through Skulker’s armaments. An explosion rocked the water where the rudder was situated.

For a moment, Danny froze there, not quite sure what to do amidst the chaos. He’d expected to have to battle through everything Skulker could throw at him, but his parents had beaten him to the punch, but why?

Shivering cold air rocked up his scales. A cold pair of goggles stared him down. Words he could barely hear himself left his lips. Skulker. He was sure his parents didn’t believe him. Were they desperate?

A piercing shriek rolled through the air. Every fin spiked up straight. Danny’s hackles rose. Something in that call activated every nerve and muscle at once, and filled his mind with Damian, guppy, keep safe. Danny did not think or worry no longer.

He rocketed through the storm of hydroblasts and dolphin shrieks. He ignored his parents’ shouts. A dolphin intercepted him, he slapped it out of the way. In seconds he was at the hull. Danny spun to gain momentum and jumped onto the deck.

He did bother shifting. All that was going through his head was Damian where are you need to protect. It was like a greater, more base instinct took over his mind. Flat ice swirled around his tailfin. He pushed himself from the railing, belly-sliding on ice at dizzying speeds.

“Maddie, Phantom just got on the boat!” Jack called out. He ducked underneath a hydroblast, and returned a bazooka shot that went wide. This Skulker hooligan was packing a lot more heat than they’d expected. He never thought animals could be trained to use weapons like that!

“We need to move quickly. Board the ship, sweetkins! I can handle this.” Maddie fired her guns, and took out three fixtures in three shots.

Jack nodded. He had every bit of faith Maddie could. “Be careful!”

Jack revved up the motor and sped along the water. He dodged more stray shots, eventually reaching the turrets’ blind spot where Maddie had decimated them. Jack found himself next to the hull of the yacht, which had come to a standstill thanks to Maddie’s shooting. Firing a Fenton Grappling Hook over the edge, Jack scaled the hull and boarded the ship in seconds.

Half the deck was covered in shimmering siren ice. Phantom’s doing, whatever he wanted here. Jack pulled out the Jack-o-Nine Tails and armed the Siren Gauntlets. Whether he had to fight Skulker, Phantom, or both, he would go all out until Danny was returned to them.

The pain was fading. Damian was fading. His flesh dripped and dripped off the bone. His arms were beginning to sag. The puddle of melted scales and skin was expanding now.

The door opened. The cursed red duck candle was knocked away from his body. Immediately cool relief like a tsunami washed over him. His wrecked muscles stopped dripping, but still felt like wet sponges. Damian could do nothing more than groan at the metallic hands shoving him into a small incubator.

“This has been fun, fishieboy, but it seems we’ll have to relocate you to a safer tank.”

Damian hissed weakly. He tried to claw at the metal armour, but his claws were about as soft as his arms; he could barely give him a love-tap, let alone a proper blow. Damian’s fading mind scrambled for some kind of way out. Some way to delay Skulker before he could fly off, and Danny would be forced to chase him down again.

“I’d have told you to stay away from my little friends here, but your ears seem a bit too runny to hear me.” Skulker laughed like he’d heard a particularly humorous joke. Damian did not find any of it funny. He chirped a slurred threat, too weak to properly speak.

“Don’t worry, trophy, you’ll feel a lot better once I get you secured. Until then, well, your little escape attempt has only made things more convenient.” Blast…

His eyes caught a bright blue blast. “Put him down Skulker!” It was Danny! Danny was here… He would save him…

Damian’s eyes glazed over. His strength finally left him.

Jack trekked down long wooden hallways. It seemed all the defenses were for the outside of the boat. Not even an alarm was ringing, let alone any turrets or traps. One by one he slammed each door open, only to be disappointed, then moved on to the next.

For a man supposedly into human trafficking and hunting live, sentient, prey, the yacht seemed normal. Jack found a swimming pool, beach chairs, tacky décor, and overall nothing suspicious on the top deck. For that matter, the lack of the eponymous Skulker was also worrying. Maybe Maddie really was that good at keeping him at bay.

Jack tapped his comm. “It’s clear on the top deck, Mads. I’m heading downstairs.”

“Roger that. Make sure your Fenton Phones and Abyssal Dismissal Belt are active. I’m about to clean up here. Rendezvous on the front deck in ten, got it?”

“Copy that. Good luck sweetie.”

Jack descended into the cool lower deck. The faint smell of sea salt and fish, a distinct combination to sirens, wafted through the hall. Jack could’ve sworn he’d heard a distant crash. The dial on the Fenton Phones would help. He reached up to his ear and twisted one of the knobs; immediately the distant sounds of a scuffle shifted into clarity. There was someone shouting, Danny! No, the voice carried the wet echo of Phantom’s inhuman chords. What was he doing on the ship?

No more wasting time. Jack activated his Fenton Shoulder Pads and squared his shoulders. His goggles slid over his eyes, hood secured over his hair. He bellowed out a battle cry and broke into a sprint. Underneath the Fenton Shoulder Pads, the wooden wall splintered into dust and sharp pieces that bounced off his goggles. He found himself in an empty cabin. Jack veered to the side of the bed and continued his charge. Furniture flew off to the side with one shove with the Gauntlets. Walls broke down. Rooms turned to turmoil.

The sounds of the struggle grew closer. His hopes drew higher, as did his pride. His son was a fighter to the last; at least he hoped it was son. Jack’s fist plowed through the final wall.

It was not the scene he’d expected. What appeared to be Skulker’s trophy room was covered in icy gouges, and sheets of frozen material. The floor was littered with splinters and debris; the walls bore bullet holes and craters. At the centre of the fighting was the man of the hour, wielding a gun that made even Jack pause. And facing him – Jack’s heart plummeted – was not Danny like he had hoped, but Phantom.

Blithely, Jack noted Phantom’s little green friend in a plastic bag like some kind of pet gold fish, looking much worse for wear.

“W-what are you doing here?” Phantom whispered. All eyes were on him.

“Can’t you see I’m a little busy here, Fenton?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at the man responsible for this entire mess, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Then make some time. You’re gonna tell me where Danny is or I’m gonna tear it out of you, molecule by molecule.”

Instead of cooperating, Skulker’s sneer only grew. “Oh, ho ho ho. If only it were so simple.” The man’s eyes glanced to Phantom.

While Jack would love to know why, Phantom wasn’t showing any signs of aggression, despite what he and his wife had done to him. Jack didn’t want to dissect how that made him feel. Instead, he focused on the fact that there was only one target in the room.

Skuker’s bazooka charged. Faster than any of the junk he and Maddie sold to the GiW, the gun erupted with a volley of blasts. Jack rolled to the side. He shunted a desk to the side. The air filled with smoke and splintered wood. Jack drew his own hydro blaster. He glanced to the side. Phantom was ducking and weaving through a hail of beams.

Jack could not wait for Skulker to reload or overheat. Instead, he charged the Gauntlets. Jack jabbed an armoured finger through the wood of the table, then stuck the muzzle of his blaster through the resulting. He picked up the table and held it like a shield while peppering the other side with shots.

The pressure on his shield weakened. A feral snarl ripped out of Phantom’s throat. “Give him back!”

Jack peeked over the edge of the table. Phantom had launched himself at Skulker’s throat. Skulker sidestepped the attack and backhanded the back of Phantom’s head into the wall. Jack took the opportunity granted to him. He charged forward, shield in hand. Skulker’s foot planted itself into Jack’s advance.

“I never took you for someone who would ally with a filthy siren, Fenton. I thought you were intending to, what was it? Dissect this one, molecule by molecule.”

Jack dug his heels into the ground and put his shoulder into it. “You don’t know me, Skulky boy. If you did you would never have laid a finger on my boy! Where is he? What did you do to him?!”

The table lurched forward. A bone cracked. An elbow was brought up to push back against Jack. “If only I knew the answers, Jack. But only our dear friend Phantom does. Don’t you?”

Phantom’s breath hitched. Jack shook the confusion out of his head. The hunter was just trying to throw him off. “The Fentons didn’t sail 3000 miles just for lies. You spill the beans right now or you, this ship and that horrible hairstyle are gonna be sent to the bottom of the sea.”

Skulker’s smarmy smirk grew two sizes wider. Cold eyes locked with Jack’s. Jack glared, but the man being crushed underneath a table did not relent or avert. “You do know how much I love a challenge. Things were getting too easy.”

Faster than Jack could react, Skulker whipped out a remote and pressed a button. The air thundered with an explosion. The wall behind Skulker collapsed, revealing the open ocean.

Without the resistance from the back wall, Jack’s strength shoved Skulker into the ocean before he could react. But there was no big splash or plummeting sound. Instead, an open suit of techno armour flew out and caught the man. Skulker gave him a salute. Jack drew his blaster and fired at will. It was too late. Skulker was already flying off. His jetpack left trailing smoke behind him amidst stray shots.

The surface of the sea came closer, inch by inch. The ship was sinking in tune with Jack’s heart. He looked around frantically, but Phantom was long gone. He hadn’t even noticed the siren leave. The man’s foot slammed into the wooden floor with a thunderous boom. Jack screamed for the heavens to hear. He had lost his son again.

Danny stopped half an hour after the sound of fighting and chittering dolphin sounds abated. He dove into a cave whose mouth formed a triangle shape thanks to the jagged coral surrounding it. Once inside, he carefully unzipped the waterproof back pack he’d grabbed from Skulker’s belongings. Inside, wrapped in towels, was his precious cargo. Damian looked much worse for wear than the last time he’d seen him. His fins were torn. His muscles looked half-separated from his bones. Damian would have been feared dead had it not been for the tiniest shift in his gills, how his body fought for every breath. Danny had no idea what Skulker had done to him, but his blood boiled imagining it. Rich kid or not, Damian was just a kid!

Danny laid Damian’s body on the soft sand, with the towel underneath him. Try as he might, he was no genius like the rest of his family was, and certainly no medical genius. They’d lost their map and all their other supplies when his parents had caught them; who knew where the nearest doctor was, let alone someone who wouldn’t attack on sight?

There was one option, which was to use their natural healing factor, but that had uncomfortable implications, implications that Danny couldn’t give a damn about now. The boy gripped the sand and pushed himself back into the open water. He wasted no time. The first fish he saw, he dove for. Danny returned home with a small haul of fish. Stealing his nerve, he tore into the meat. He didn’t swallow, however. Instead, he chewed it into a soft mush. The texture of the food ground down into nothing. Then he chewed it some more for good measure, before leaning over Damian’s body. Webbed fingers pulled the little guppy’s mouth open, and Danny spat out the food.

This continued for hours. With no access to soft or liquid food, not even a can of soup, Danny fed Damian mouth to mouth like a mother bird. By the fifth round, he was beginning to get nauseous, but Damian’s wounds had not yet healed. By the seventh round, he had to fight to keep his own lunch from erupting. Danny bit and chewed and spat until his head spun, and he had to lie down and rub at it. Then he got up and continued. He had depleted the fish by the time the sun went down, but Damian’s body was only looking a little less melted than before.

The night wore on. Danny pressed down on Damian’s wrist, to feel a pulse as faint as a butterfly’s draft. His face was a pale, sickly green, not like the vibrant jade they were just this morning. He continued to feed his friend, even as his own muscles ached and demanded sustenance.

The moon rose high in the sky, and Danny slumped over. Damian had not yet woken up. “Please, Damian,” he sobbed. “I can’t lose you again.”

A crooning groan echoed in the distance. Danny’s hackles rose, He bore his teeth, and rushed out the cave, camouflage sliding over scales. His lateral line tinged in the darkness of the ocean. Lit by moonlight, a familiar shape approached.

Chapter Text

Damian awoke from a dreamless sleep. Gentle vibrations rocked his body. It felt like coming home on a bad day, or the way he imagined a mother might hold their child. His mind’s eye brought forth thousands of shifting images, each colour blending into the other until it was unrecognisable. Briefly, familiar pictures would make themselves clear only to disappear the next. He thought about Father. About home. The heat in his head intensified. The images went to when his Father yelled, when Richard looked down on him with pity and disappointment in equal measure. Those conversations played out, then played again. Damian cried out, begging for them to understand, to give him the approval they’ve withheld. The conversations played differently, but each variation in dialogue felt like a Herculean task to process and imagine. Every time his dream self said something different, the dream seemed to rewind back to the beginning, only for details to blur or transform in a mess.

Damian’s eyes opened to a dark night sky. Somebody spoke to him, words that melded into gibberish. He chirped back, and fell into another dream.

He was in school. Some classmate was saying something vapid and inane, and Damian snapped at her. She acted shocked and offended, but that only boiled Damian’s blood further. Suddenly some boyfriend or lackey came forward. Damian remembered that day well. He’d ended up in detention, and his Father did not take kindly to his retaliation.

The images faded away into another menagerie of meaningless memories.

When Damian awoke again, the water felt warm, like sunlight, but his body shivered with coldness and pain. Aching soreness thrummed under every scale. The gentle purring was still there. A deep call resonated through the water. It felt dark at the same time, like his eyes were being covered. Skinny arms enclosed his body, and a large weight was over his chest. His gills expanded, their skin brushing against a familiar scale texture.

“Danny?” He resented how week his voice felt, how to speak was like pushing a boulder.

Danny did not respond. His chest press against Damian’s, then fell away, then rose again in a regular pattern. He was sleeping. Damian tried to wiggle away, but to move even a muscle seemed too difficult a task. His friend, and if he had his way, future brother’s warmth enveloped him, and lulled him into slumber alongside the purrs.

For what felt like days, Damian drifted in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he awoke to Danny spooning him handfuls of seaweed or kelp. Other times, Danny was kneading his hair, and stroking his fins. His lateral line tingled with the presence of many more, but he couldn’t place their presence. One time, he tried to sniff out their company, but couldn’t make it far before sleep reclaimed him.

Eventually, Damian managed to awaken with some more lucidity. The sounds in the water rang more sharply. There was a towel, or a blanket of some kind draped over his head. His arm did not radiate pain when lifting it as compared to before, but it was an effort nonetheless to lift it off of him.

Colour burst into his vision in sharp outlines. The water tinged with the purple of dawn above, and deep dark blue from the bottom. Damian blinked. No, it wasn’t water or blue at all, but grey blubber. Damian tapped the surface. Suddenly, the familiar smell clarified; it was the whale pod from earlier! As if sensing his alertness, a familiar baby whale emerged from over the edge of the ‘floor’. Dorothy sang in delight, and triggered a rare smile from Damian.

“Hello girl. I suppose your pod managed to catch up to me and Danny.” Dorothy swam in a little circle around him, gently nuzzling him with her nose. Damian reached out to her head, and rubbed soothing circles. What a relief; she was still healthy after her encounter with the poachers. “At least one of us managed to remain unscathed.”

Dorothy chirped again, a sadder sound. When she nudged his body, Damian had to refuse. “I cannot play with you yet. I am still unwell.”

“Damian!”

He whipped his head around, only to regret it when the headache spiked. Danny zipped over the mother whale’s back, and laid Damian over the towel. “Don’t push yourself, you’re still healing.”

Damian found no strength to protest. He heard Danny place something down beside him. “How long have I been out?”

“Three days, more or less.”

He tutted. “Why does it hurt so much?”

“Blood blossoms. Skulker hit you with a candle made from them. They dissolve the bonds between hydroplasmic molecules.” That would explain the excruciating pain he’d felt, and was still feeling partially. “I’m so glad you’re awake. I was so scared.”

Damian’s fins stood up, only to drop. He wanted to be offended that the older boy was worried for him, but that indignity was strangely absent, instead replaced with a feeling of warmth.

“I’m sorry I let Skulker take you.”

There was the indignity. Damian hissed weakly. “Dispel yourself of such nonsense. We had no way of knowing beforehand that he would strike or where, nor that the GiW would have beaten us to Panama.”

“But-“

“If you continue that statement, I will rise up and bite your sail, headache be damned.”

Danny did not wisely shut his mouth, instead crossing his arms. “You’re literally half dead and you’re still being difficult.” His complaints came across without coldness. Frustration, but also teasing.

“I have a reputation, as the youngest of my household.”

Danny pushed forward his previous cargo of kelp, mussels and clams. Damian did not have it in him to protest the shellfish. At least they would be soft enough to eat without much trouble. Instead, his eyes drifted down to the grey back of the mother whale.

His friend heard the question before he voiced it. “These guys managed to catch up to us after I got you back. They’ve been really helpful, taking us places where there’s lots of food.”

“That is helpful…”

Danny shucked a mussel and offered it to him. “Your friend’s been really worried about you too. She keeps bothering me and trying to nuzzle you. I’ve had to chase her away a few times.”

Quietly, Damian’s heart soared at the idea of the playful calf caring for him so much, although he was careful not to show it. Damian took the offered morsel and swallowed it without much ado. He turned his head to the side, and stared out at the great expanse rolling by above him.

He had little energy to talk much. The two of then sat in mostly in silence. Danny retold the events that transpired at Skulker’s yacht, and Damian listened. After that, the only sounds were the whale song pinging back and forth between each member of the pod, and their own chewing. Before long, Damian was stuffed full, and he found himself lying on Danny’s belly, watching a shipwreck pass by in the distance.

So much had happened in such a small amount of time. He used to think he was a creature of action, and battle. To have a quiet moment was rare. Something was always going on; something had to always be going on, but in this moment? The Fentons’ engines were busted. The GiW were blind without the Fentons’ help or any tips, and Skulker’s yacht was down for the count too. In this moment, they had no pursuers. Only the two of them and a pod of whales were here for what could be hundreds of miles.

Perhaps it was this smaller body, but Damian found himself easing into Danny’s touch, into a relaxed lull.

“What now?” He murmured. “We have lost most of our supplies.”

Danny shrugged. “Not the first time it’s happened to us. We’ll get more. ‘Sides, the bag I ‘borrowed’ from Skulker’s got some nifty stuff.”

“Our plan to pass through Panama failed. I doubt a second try would be fruitful.” The American government would surely notice a second breach of the area. They tended to hang around like that, like leeches, or cockroaches, or barnacles. Incredibly annoying, and very hard to get rid of.

Danny considered these words. The water swirled lightly around Damian’s body, kicked up by the older boy’s fins. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not be. I have already told you. Apologise any further and I will take measures.”

A first pushed into his hair. Damian screeched with embarrassment. The other looped around his chin and locked him in place, and Damian’s head burned with the frictional heat. “Bold words for someone in noogie range!”

“Cease this! You are attacking me because I told you the truth!”

“Lalallalala I can’t hear you! All this water’s blocking out the sound!”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

Danny laughed. With consideration towards Damian’s health, the noogie attack did not last long, but it was the blow to Damian’s pride that mattered more. Stupid tiny body. Stupid teenage siren strength locking him tight against transparent scales. Damian cursed these things many times.

They settled down again soon after, and Damian pressed him again. “If you have a human form, perhaps you can smuggle me through Brazil. We could swim out the Amazon.”

Danny blinked at him. “Dude, you think I can speak a lick of Portuguese? Somehow I feel like your grand theft auto skills might not cut it against the cartels. Or the mosquitos,” he finished with a shudder.

Tut, Damian could cut through any cartel, and he could certainly clip a mosquito’s wings mid-air, but Danny did not need to know that yet. It was a monumentally nonsensical plan, admittedly, upon further consideration.

That still left them with few other options. Could they go south all around South America? How much time would that take? The timeline of their journey was going to have to be revised heavily.

“Well, I do know someone.”

Damian’s ear fins perked up. “An ally of yours?”

“You could say that. Her name’s Dora. She runs a kingdom down south, just off the coast of Chile. I have an open invitation and she owes me one.”

That was… good news. For all the adventuring they had been doing, Damian had never thought that Danny would have contacts in the underwater world that he could use. After the reveal of his human form, it appeared even more unlikely.

“You think this friend of yours has the resources to assist us?”

“I mean, she has a whole kingdom. I’m sure she can spare us some magic doohickey or whatever.” Ugh, never underestimate the inarticulacy of an American teenager.

“Very well then.”

“There was another thing I wanted to bring up with you.”

Damian groaned. His body was already getting tired.

“Since we’re gonna be travelling for a bit longer than expected, I was thinking maybe we had some fun on the way.” Damian’s eyes blinked open. In Danny’s hands, an underwater camera gleamed. It was very good equipment, the kind of stuff Timothy would spend thousands on and then gush over for weeks. “Skulker just had this lying around. I figured he would’ve taken pictures of you, so I took it to destroy them. But it feels bad to get rid of a perfectly good camera, right?”

The camera was passed to him. His small torso was barely bigger than the equipment, but being underwater made it easier to handle. He ran his hands down its smooth surface, taking note of the controls.

“I-if you don’t want to, we can-,”

“It’s perfect.”

The tension in the water disappeared. Danny breathed a sigh of relief. The boy flopped onto the ‘floor’ beside Damian, lanky arms draped over Damian’s tail. “Oh, that’s great.”

“For what it’s worth,” Damian mumbled, voice weakening underneath the embrace of precious sleep. “This journey has already been very exciting, and in a word, fun. And despite our setbacks, I look forward to where it takes us next.”

“Yeah. So do I.”

Danny continued talking about this and that, and Damian mumbled half-hearted replies until he finally fell asleep again, underneath a blanket and Danny’s embrace.

Chapter Text

INTERNATIONAL OUTCRY AS AMERICAN AGENTS TEAR THROUGH PANAMA

GIW agents harass civilians and destroy property in pursuit of elusive supposed siren supervillain Phantom, only for no trace of said individual to be found. Is this yet another sordid chapter in American interference on South American soil? Lois Lane reports.

That was a welcome sight to see in the morning. Jazz Fenton placed her phone face down, and rolled back into bed; it was a bad idea to look at screens for too long while concussed, as much as she wanted to dig into the article lambasting Amity’s least favourite government workers. A small weight lifted off her shoulders. For the moment, her brother and Damian were scot free. Her parents were still hard at work on repairs. They’d spent the whole night in despair along with Bruce Wayne after Skulker had escaped without telling them any info on the missing boys, then the next morning, boom! Back to work. Never let it be said that the Fentons gave up easily. The GIW seemed less likely to bounce back, if the backlash against them was any indication. And Skulker’s ship was at the bottom of the sea.

As for what Danny and Damian would do next, Jazz had no idea. They could be trekking through Brazil on foot, or planning to swim back up north to Amity for all she knew. All she could do was hope Danny got himself a phone soon to call her, and let her know they were alright. Speaking of which…

Jazz got up and moved to the side of her door, where the spare mattress was propped up. She dragged it over the door, sealing it shut. With her room once again soundproofed and secure, she went back to her bed, and tapped a group call contact on her phone. She had texted them the brief details last night, but was too busy comforting her parents to give them the full report.

It answered in two rings. Tucker spoke immediately. “What’s your status?”

Sam picked up right after. “Where are the boys?”

“Everything is fine, for now. They managed to escape Panama before the GIW could catch them. But Skulker got them soon after.”

“Shit. I never even knew! I wasn’t there to hack him. What happened?” Tucker asked in panic.

“Mom and Dad came back last night, told me and Bruce that ‘Phantom’ made off with his little green friend. So at least they’re safe.”

“So that means they’re safe, right?”

Jazz squeezed her hairband. “For the most part. There’s one issue, though. Mom and Bruce saw Danny running at the beach in Panama. They didn’t see him go into the water or anything.” She was always careful not to say anything that would connect Danny with Phantom, just in case there was still somehow someone listening. It was never ‘transform’, it was always ‘go in the water.’ It was never Danny and Damian swimming in the ocean, it was Phantom and his friend, or just ‘they.’ “They don’t suspect anything catastrophic yet, but the situation is sensitive.”

“Well fuck.” The sound of a fist on wood came through Sam’s end.

“Sam, are you training?” Tucker asked. Jazz internally questioned if there was a reason to his surprise.

“Just a bit. Need to be in tip top shape.” Another series of punches. “You got a problem with that, Tuck?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

Jazz pursed her lips. “How are you guys feeling, outside of paranoid anxiety and crushing fear?”

“Like I want to cave someone’s face in right now.”

“I’ve got some good news!” Keyboard clacking followed his announcement, and a text from him appeared on their group chat. It was an internal order obviously gained via Tucker’s illicit means, directing operatives to pack up and hit the seas for Phantom. “The Gankers in Wetwipes are screwing off in the next couple weeks. That means less property damage. Woo!”

“But more people chasing Phantom, Tuck.” Sam let out a guttural growl as she kicked something, by the sound of it. “They’ll be licking their wounds for a while with his GTA stunt in Panama, but for how long?”

For how long indeed. If they were as determined as they ever were, probably not long at all. “What’s the status at Fentonworks?”

“All clear for now. I already gained access to the system aaages ago, back when we needed to disable the detection systems for Danny.” A few keys clicked in the background. “Still nothing. I have a program to alert me and Sam when a certain someone shows up.”

“And then what?”

“Hopefully, blast him to fucking bits with the house defenses.”

“There’s also plan B, Jazz, but we’ll save that for later,” Sam added. “How are you feeling?”

Jazz sighed. The last few days have been nothing but anxiety, uncertainty and stress. Slowly, she breathed in again, and her sigh became a calming exhale. “Honestly? Relieved. The future is uncertain, and people are naturally inclined to dislike uncertainty, but I have faith in Danny. He’s one of the strongest little brothers a woman could hope for.”

She just needed to have faith.

Damian chewed a piece of Sargassum. The stars coated the night sky once more in a mesmerising dome, while Danny laid beside him, fins flicking lazily, as he retold myths. Currently Danny was going over Herakles, who was brought to the teet of Hera to suckle, only for the baby Herakles to nibble too hard, causing the goddess’ milk to spill out into the stars, forming the Milky Way.

“Incidentally, galaxias literally means milky! Can you believe it?” Danny concluded.

The whale pod was fast asleep at this moment, floating near the surface of the ocean. Danny’s body was already mostly dried out, scales replaced by pink skin. The older boy tipped his foot into the water, which morphed it into a fin, before splashing the water onto Damian’s body.

As much as Damian wished to be able to continue swimming, he was still in recovery, and he and Danny had not finished gathering supplies yet. Instead, he laid his head on the mother whale’s body and on Danny’s, and listened to another story.

“This isn’t about any constellations, but here’s the hillaarrious misunderstanding for why some Greeks thought the god Pan was dead…”

Damian fell asleep to the rhythm in Danny’s chest.

He woke up feeling better than ever, and the whale calves seemed to feel the same. As soon as he rose, a group of them with Dorothea at the helm ambushed him. Dorothea bumped her nose onto him, and Damian instinctively grasped her fins to hold on, while she dashed away from her friends. Three calves followed Dorothea’s tail, while another two flanked her left side.

The two from the side dove for Damian, aiming to knock him off Dorothea’s back, but she swerved upward and dodged their advance. So the game was to claim Damian as their rider. He could get behind this. Dorothea’s friends approached from the rear. Damian secured his position atop her back, and scanned his surroundings, which were mostly featureless sands and dozens of whales. He clicked a command, then nudged her in the downwards direction. Almost by telepathy, Dorothea angled downwards underneath the belly of one of the adult pod members. The three chasers followed closely.

“Giddy up, Dorothy! We can still outswim them!” He called out to his friend. However, his glee was cut short by the reappearance of the two flankers. One seemed like a young male, with three spots on his head. Damian dubbed him Cerberus. The other had a white patch on its fin. Damian called it Todd.

Cerberus went low, while Todd went high, brushing against the underbelly of the adult they were swimming under. With Damian holding on tight, Dorothy dashed forward. She and Damian aimed to swim up the side of the adult and lose their tails (curse you Richard and your infectious disease). However, the three chasers from the back had returned. A smaller runt rammed Damian by the side. It was not painful, just startling. Damian yelped at his new captor and the current winner. “Be careful, you dolt! And start swimming!”

Runt clicked an answer back, and the chase was on. Damian took the helm at Runt’s back, and chirped a challenge back to the other calves, who crooned back with renewed vigour. Runt wasn’t as big or strong as her friends, but she was small, and that made her a more difficult target, as well as granting her greater nimbleness in the water. Try as her pod mates might, they were unable to catch her. Runt twisted and zig-zagged through the water, and around the bodies of the adults. Dorothea managed to glance by Damian’s sail, but she had aimed too high and left Damian firmly seated on his current noble steed.

As enemy forces closed in on them, he had to wonder what the victory condition had to be for this game, and if there weren’t, how he could make one decisively. His gaze turned upward.

“We need altitude, Runt. On the double!” He commanded. Damian ducked under another capture attempt by Cerberus, then jerked Runt to the side as Todd dove for another attempt. Runt sped toward the surface with accelerating pace amidst the growing resistance. In a rush of motion, the pair broke the surface and launched into the air, almost six whole feet up. Runt sang a triumphant tune. She blasted water out of her blowhole, which happened to be right underneath Damian’s face, but Damian couldn’t help but laugh even as he was pelted by high-pressure water. His stomach lurched and his heart jittered with the thrill of free-fall, celebrated with a pump of the fist.

He and Runt plummeted back to the deep blue sea with a magnificent splash, right before the whale calves surrounded them with playful nuzzles.

A click interrupted their celebration. Behind the shifting bodies of the whale calves, a grinning Danny floated, camera in hand. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

Damian glared with dignity. He did not pout. “I was getting in my recommended hours of physical therapy. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah yeah yeah. And it wasn’t just because you wanted to play with the whales again?”

“It was training.” Damian put his hands to his hips. “I am learning how to be a whale whisperer and trainer, for any future encounters where that skillset might be useful.”

“Well…” Danny rolled his shoulders back and grinned. “Is the budding whale trainer ready for a lunch break?” The older boy offered a helping of brown kelp. “Today our chef has prepared a special three-course dinner comprising of kelp, kelp, and a mystery desert for later!”

“It is kelp, is it not?”

“You betcha!”

Within the clean white walls of a private jet, a man picks up a glass of champagne. Poor Jasmine, all alone in Fentonworks, her parents having gone off gallivanting across the waves once more. Poor Jasmine indeed. Well, having set affairs in order back at home, Vlad Masters was finally coming to check in on his dear, dear goddaughter.

“How long until we reach Amity, pilot?”

“Just another hour, sir. Hang in tight.”

“Excellent.”

And if he completed a few errands around Amity Park in the meantime, who could blame him?

Chapter Text

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 37

It had been a week since Damian was taken by Skulker, since Danny had to flee for his life from Amity Island, and since precious secrets were blown wide open by Bruce freaking Wayne and the Fenton parents.

Now Tucker’s parents and Sam’s knew about their illicit aquatic activities after school (and during school if he was gonna be honest), and had put them under house arrest for the time being. Tucker cursed the himbo billionaire under his breath, careful not to alert his mother and draw agro (she’d taken to personally driving him to school during his grounding).

He admired the man! Sam admired him! And then he went and did them dirty, all because he believed the same baseless propaganda Danny’s parents and the GiW were peddling. That all sirens were ruthless evil killers blah blah blah etc etc insert more blahing here.

Just when you think there might be one decent billionaire in the world, huh?

And yeah, he realises that he could’ve avoided all this suspicion and drama from his parents if he’d just decided to stay further back and not be so active helping Danny, but seriously? Abandon his BFF in times of need? Tucker was many things, but he was not some traitor. He saw the way Val’s friends jumped ship the moment she lost her job, and he would never, ever do Danny the way they did Val.

It could be worse. Mr Wayne could’ve spilled the beans to the whole town, or even the GiW, and then the whole trio would get to be dissected together, joy, but he didn’t. He had to give the man credit for not being as completely awful as he could’ve been (Tucker still hated the man, though).

And, of course, Danny’s secret could’ve been outed. For all he beat himself up over the last week, Tucker took solace in one fact, that at least he and Sam had managed to prevent the biggest secret of their lives from leaking, even if some smaller ones got out.

When Danny got home, he was so gonna celebrate with a million Nasty Burgers.

As for the situation in Amity Island, well.

The ground rocked from an explosion. Tucker gripped his seat. Outside the car, two GiW trucks rushed in after a trio of hydropuses. An agent leaned out from the window of the leading truck, firing wild shots that left craters in the pavement, and none of which that hit the hydropuses.

Even though the bigger names seemed to have abandoned ship (hehe) for the time being, there were still the occasional small fry, namely generic oceanic monsters that would’ve taken Danny (or Sam, or hell, even Tuck with a wrist ray) seconds to beat back.

He didn’t miss the way his mother’s grip tightened ever so slightly on the steering wheel. Yikes. Despite being a whole week, his parents had not cooled down in the slightest.

Part of it hurt. It was like there was one flick of a switch and suddenly his own parents thought he was in cahoots with a supervillain. They never had any strong opinions on Phantom before! Why now? The past week had left him with a much more intimate understanding of Sam’s rebellion.

They drove past the Gastons in White and continued up to school without much more ado, the car ride silent as it had been for the last week. Once they arrived at Caspian High, Tucker shuffled out of the car, with the unreadable stare of his mother going down on his back and ignored to the best of his ability.

If home was tense, school was a mine field that only grew more treacherous. Day after day, he and Sam watched sides form and solidify in the school hallways and in the teacher’s lounges. Was Phantom a hero? Did Phantom kidnap and/or kill the D kids?

Was Danny his accomplice, or his sidekick?

Neither of them could stand back. Sam practically threw herself into passionately defending both of Danny’s names. If they couldn’t fight the sea monsters, then they’d fight the tides of public opinion.

Seemed Sam had gotten a head start today.

“You’re just jealous your loser crush is gay for Phantom instead of you.”

That statement made Tucker feel a lot of things, and comfortable was not one of them. A crowd had gathered around Dash and Sam, two people who were together in the ‘Phantom is not evil’ crowd but clashed about as often as if they weren’t thanks to their very different opinions on Danny Fenton.

“There is so much wrong with that statement you couldn’t be more wrong than Chamberlain. Firstly, that’s disgusting. Danny was kidnapped. Secondly, YOU HAVE A SHRINE TO PHANTOM IN YOUR ROOM.”

Seemed like Dash couldn’t lay off the bullying even as kids were beginning to wonder if Danny was straight up dead. Like, wow. Sure the first 48 hours is the best chance to find a missing person, but there was literally no reason to think Danny would have kicked the bucket right now.

If you ignore the fact that, without knowing what he and Sam knew, there was a 99% chance that some siren did it, even if it wasn’t Phantom. And the fact that he was the son of siren hunters. And the fact that most people believed sirens were bloodthirsty maneaters.

Well, when put that way, sure he and Sam looked like grief-ridden lunatics grasping at straws, but you know what? Tucker was never, ever one to care about his public image (that was a complete lie).

“It’s not a shrine, it’s a dedication, and it’s manly as fuck. The heroic spirit, the manly vibes, the body of an Olympic swimmer, no, god!” Dash swooned.

Tucker pushed his way through the crowd in time to see Sam doubling over and gagging like she had a stone in her throat, and he was right there with her.

For one, Danny definitely did not have the body of an Olympic anything. That shit was reserved for guys like Superman who didn’t get shot by the government on a daily basis. 99% of what Danny ate just went into healing what little muscle he had on him.

“I’m sure Phantom’s heroic spirit would really appreciate you badmouthing Danny while he’s literally missing.” Oh boy, that was 10% more venom than Sam’s normal. Time to pull out and fast.

“Phantom wouldn’t care for a twink like Danny, who’s way below his league, and I bet Fentina knew it too. Hell, I’d bet Fentina did a Fentumble into the water once he realised how hopeless his life was.”

Oh shit. Tucker sprinted.

Due to some sorcerery-related mumbo jumbo he half-got, a good punch from Sam would literally turn Dash’s nose into a pan cake and send the jock spinning like a ballerina, and as satisfying as that would be in the moment, they really didn’t need to give their parents any more reason to be angry.

Tucker jumped in front of Sam’s advancing fist, which was one of the most terrifying things he had ever laid eyes on, only for the crystalised death to halt a millimeter from his face.

“Get out of the way, Tucker.” Sam’s face contorted something fierce.

“Y-yeah! Get out of the way, Foley. A real man can fight his own battles, thank you very much.”

“Shut up, Dash!” Both she and Tucker shouted.

Tucker gave Sam a look. Sam glanced to the side, and the fighting stance shifted into casual dismissal. “Whatever. Who needs to punch a ticking time bomb when it’ll destroy itself in time?”

“I have no idea what that means, Manson, but you wanna say that again to my face?” Dash shouted, which Tucker found hilarious, seeing as Sam literally just did that.

The duo retreated from the crowd and into the school, with Sam’s glare keeping anyone from following them. The thing, or person, that Tucker saw? Valerie Gray, who’d been on sick leave for the last week, and still looking objectively terrible.

With attacks still happening, the GiW causing more problems than they solve, and the daunting tides of public opinion, there was still a lot to do for Tucker Foley and Sam Manson back at home.

“Alright, now try this.” Danny let out a bat-like click from the back of his mouth. The echoed far and wide and reverberated across the water. Miliseconds later, the sound returned in loose, uneven patches in between more delayed and smooth echoes. “The earlier they come back, the closer the object is. The first bit was for the whale pod. The second part tells us the terrain is flat. Now you do it.”

Damian closed his eyes underneath his blindfold, and produced the same sound. The echo tickled his outstretched ear fins, dozens of nuggets of information packed to within the span of a millisecond. “I can see it, almost. Or hear it.”

“Ok, then. What’s in front of us?”

The younger boy stilled in his seated position atop his folded tail. He focused on the way his scales tingled with sensitive touch upon the mother whale’s skin, how the gentle current tickled his fins, and how his ear fins latched onto each and every sound. Danny had also taken the liberty of wrapping him up tight with cloth in order to block off his lateral line, and prevent him from relying on that. Damian called out three times, and three times did the sound return to him. Without sight, his ears picked out something that felt distinct and rigid, sharp even. There was also the slightest variation in one of the pitches across the three echoes. He turned his head to the direction of that shape, and called again.

“One of the calves is in front of us. From their size and speed, I think it is Runt.”

“Bingo!” Danny clapped. “You’re getting good at this.”

Damian beamed with pride so much that even his fins puffed up. “I was born to excel.”

“You rich kids and your egos.” Danny sighed with fondness. “Right, let’s try some harder targets. How many fingers am holding up?”

The smaller siren noted the stronger scent from Danny from his outstretched hand. “You call that difficult?” Damian chirped a low note. “Easy. Four.”

“Uhh… No. Try bobbing your head side to side.”

Damian’s cheeks heated, and he shook his head strongly. “That sounds ridiculous and juvenile. Laughable, even.”

“I mean it! Helps you get perspective and stuff. Ever heard of the parallax effect? It’s like, one of the most important navigational tools ever.”

“I am well aware, however, I do not need such a crutch.”

“Uh uh, and how many fingers am I holding up?”

Damian clicked, and answered. “Six!”

“Nope.”

Chirp. “Five.”

Another call. “Guess again.”

“Nine?”

“Dude, that was not even close. You sure you’re actually hearing my fingers, and not my ear fins?”

Damian pouted. “Of course not!” He said, while also focusing closer on where he believed Danny’s hands were held up. His next call resounded sharply off the ridges of a membrane, what he hoped was his friend’s hand webbing and not his fin membranes. A soft echo returned, then a slightly louder one. “Is it two this time?”

“Yayyy! You did great!” Then came the sound of clapping. Damian hissed and snapped his teeth on whatever was in front of him. He did not catch them, judging by the empty feeling in his mouth and the whooshing of water.

“Do not patronise me.”

“I wasn’t! Just a pointer. Try a higher note. It’ll help get the smaller details, thanks to a shorter wavelength.”

The younger boy tutted, although inwardly he berated himself for not thinking of such an idea sooner. When everything about your body is new, the minutiae of optimal behaviour tend to slip away from you.

“I knew that…”

“Yeah yeah, how many fingers?”

This time, Damian focused his voice into a piercing note an octave above his previous attempts. The feedback resulted in something akin to image, but which was felt, not seen. He could tell that it was definitely more than two fingers, but the shape was blurry to him.

So he sighed, and privately admitted defeat. This echolocation practice had been going for a good hour, and he was itching to make proper progress. With a resigned slump, Damian shifted his head to the right, and clicked again. The returning echo gave him another look on the hand, a wide shape suggesting a fully fanned webbed hand, but it was narrow, as if the thumb was down.

“Four,” he decided.

“Told you so,” Danny said with a snicker.

Damian swiped his hand at Danny, and smirked when his claws caught a couple scales, much to the other boy’s shrieking surprise.

On the deck of the SAV, Jack Fenton hammered in the last adjustment to the Fenton Siren Spy Drone. The spy drone’s design was Maddie’s stroke of genius. He’d been trying to perfect a compact and light design that caused minimal disturbance to the local environment, but just couldn’t get the thing to be silent. Then Maddie proposed a whole new propulsion system, and suddenly it was as quiet as a mouse! Then Brucie came in and suggested some ideas from Wayne E’s RD department for a more aerodynamic frame

And that was a good thing, because the less their targets knew about their observation, the better. This last week had shoved in their face just how little they understood about sirens in general, and the one they were pursuing.

He couldn’t get the image of Danny out of his mind, his boy being trapped and alone. Brucie had hit up his contacts in Panama seeing if they could help with the search on land, but there was no news yet. He wondered if what Mads saw was just a trick by another suffering sirenito; even she was beginning to doubt it.

Chapter Text

“I hear with my little ear… Something short and swaying.” Danny said. Both boys sat atop the mother whale with blindfolds and their hands placed on their ear fins.

In response, Damian clicked four times. The sounds radiated across the water and echoed back a moment later. The younger boy hummed. “Is it a patch of seaweed about a mile west?”

“More southwest west, but close enough. Now it’s your turn!”

Damian clicked again. “I hear with my little ear… something…” The boy strained his ears, “…streamlined.”

Danny deadpanned, although his friend couldn’t see it. “So is that whale number 1 or whale number 2? Or is it whale number 3?”

“Quiet,” Damian whispered. He whistled into the water again. “Judging by the return time, it’s about four hundred feet west. And it’s small, like a child.”

Danny’s eyebrows quirked up, and he faced west, clicking in turn. “Yeah, I think I can hear it too. It’s fast, too, like a siren.”

That could be bad news. Siren echolocation worked on a frequency that humans couldn’t hear naturally, but it still came with its risks. It was like shining a light in a dark forest. Sure, you can see your surroundings, but your surroundings could see you too, or rather, the predators lurking within your surroundings.

They’d gone this far without encountering another siren.

It could be good news, though. Maybe the stranger could help them in some way.

“Should we establish contact?” Damian asked.

“I don’t see why not.” Danny shrugged. “If they’re a jerk, we can always just beat them up.”

Damian tutted. “I would rather have a weapon on hand. I still mourn the loss of the Fenton Anti-Creep stick, and the Fenton Wrist Ray, among other things.”

“I feel like you’re dangerous enough without my parents’ stuff,” Danny muttered. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

Before he could call out, a call came from the west. Both boys flapped their ear fins wide.

“It appears to be a child. What are they saying?”

“I think it’s they’re trying to locate us. Hold on.” Danny huffed water through his gills, and belted out a greeting in high pitched keens.

Two seconds later, the stranger returned the call.

“They sound friendly enough. Why don’t we head up to meet them?”

Damian shrugged off his blindfold, looking to the whales.

“They’ll be fine, Dami.” Danny ruffled the younger boy’s hair, much to Damian’s displeasure. “It’s not like it’ll be hard to locate them again.”

Damian huffed, and nodded. They secured their meagre supplies, and readied their fins for a short expedition.

The short journey west brought them through the wasteland of sand and rock, populated mostly by lone crabs and bottom feeders. Danny and the distant siren exchanged more clicks and chirps through the water, leading the duo closer. As their destination neared, Damian’s ears heard a shape by interpreting Danny’s echoes.

The shape was round at the bottom, with a flatter top side with square-like protrusions. If Damian had to guess, it was likely a shipwreck of some kind.

Sure enough, the rusty hull of a small fishing vessel appeared through the mist of the ocean. Barnacles and limpets lined the ship in between sheets of decaying metal. The metallic scent filled his nose even from a distance. Damian wrinkled his brow.

“Is this truly where our mystery siren has been staying? I propose we turn around and leave them to their filth.”

Danny lightly punched Damian’s shoulder. “I don’t exactly remember the last time you took a bath, Dami.”

“As soon as you find a public bath, kindly inform me. The stench of your dumpster clothes has not left you.”

Danny gasped as if he had been struck, the drama queen.

“Hey fellas!” A boyish voice called out.

Damian and Danny paused, and turned back to the shipwreck. Sat upon the bowl was a little beacon in the form of orange scales and bright red hair and fins. The younger siren wore a friendly smile, and waved to them with patchwork orange and yellow-scaled hands.

The siren duo looked to each other, and shrugged, before swimming down to meet the new boy.

“Uhh… kid? Are you lost? It’s pretty dangerous out here,” Danny started. Damian had to agree. There was hardly any food or shelter in the open ocean, and this boy was clearly not a day above nine, unless the skinny frame was actually malnourishment, but that only supported his opinion even more.

“Nope! I’m exactly where I wanna be. Now, you guys on the other hand…”

Damian’s fins rattled. “Excuse me. We are the ones with expert navigational skills and supplies. You seem to carry nothing but your own scales.”

For his prickliness, Danny wacked him over the head. “Sorry about him. He’s normally pretty grumpy.”

“It’s fine! I can’t take him seriously anyway.” The orange kid’s own laughter interrupted him. “Sorry, you just look so tiny and adorable, and the way you pout is so cute!”

Damian’s face heated up. He was Robin, son of the Bat! “You… you! You will take that statement back, or face my wrath!”

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that you remind me a lot of the younger orphanage kids back home.”

Damian Wayne, compared to a sad (and small!) orphan? That was the last straw. This punk was to be annihilated in short order. Damian charged for the boy with a roaring battle cry, only for larger hands to wrap around his waist and pull him back.

“Dami! Don’t be mean! He’s just a poor innocent kid.”

“Yeah, and you’re just a poor innocent teenager.”

“Hey, Fanta Express Kid, I’m on your side here. Do you know how hard it is,” Damian made a swipe for Danny’s joints, only for the teenager to slide his elbow out of the way. “to keep this guy on a leash? He’s a very, how do you say it? Sensitive soul.”

“Alright, alright. Name’s Colin! You guys aren’t from round here, are you?”

Damian glared at the boy. “And what gives you such an impression?”

“The smell, for one.” Colin (if that was even his real name) waved a webbed hand over his nose, gagging. “But underneath all the gunk and moss, you smell like whales, which I’m guessing means you’ve been travelling?”

They didn’t have moss growing on them, did they? Damian felt the urge to check, but doing so in front of their audience would be weakness.

He did allow himself a quick general sniff, only to be struck by something odd.

The other siren boy smelled… familiar, somehow, like a distant memory you’ve almost forgotten.

“Pretty much. We’re visiting a friend in the kingdom down south.” Danny tightened his grip around Damian; at this point the younger boy ceased his struggles and resigned himself to glaring balefully.

“You should be careful.” The orange boy’s eyes scanned their left flanks. His dorsal fin wiggled as his lateral line lit up. “You never know when Los Zetáceos are around.”

“Los who?” Danny asked.

Damian tilted his head in confusion “What on Earth?”

“They’re jerks, that’s who. They’ve been ambushing travelling pods, and human boats too. Once they have ‘em surrounded, they point their harpoons at their victims and go ‘give us your protection fees and we’ll be on our way.’ That’s whaleshit! The only things people need protecting from are them.”

These sirens sounded a lot like human pirates, or human mafia members, to Damian. It was interesting how cultural ideas spread. “And you are out here in what may be their territory, risking your life and hide for what exactly? You said that you had sought out this place.”

“I’m taking them on.”

Damian’s eyes bugged out of their sockets. “Are you insane? You are an unarmed and untrained child!”

“Like you’re any better!”

Damian huffed. Of course he was. He was Robin, but he couldn’t exactly go about announcing that to every random child (fishy or otherwise) they came across on the road.

“Besides,” Colin continued. “I’m not unarmed. Just my stuff is inside. The reason I called you down over here was to warn you, that’s all. They’ve also been known to kill animals for the fun of it.”

Immediately, Damian’s hackles rose. Whoever these Zetáceos were, they would regret the day they ever met him. “Duly noted,” he keened dangerously.

He still didn’t think much of this ‘Colin’ character, though, even if his friend was more receptive.

“Thanks for the heads up, Colin. Do you wanna come with us? We could use the company! And don’t worry about Damian. He’s got a lot more bark than bite.”

That was severely false, but that didn’t seem to stop either of the older sirens. After a few more words exchanged, Colin (if that was his real name) dashed into the shipwreck and emerged with a pair of satchels, and then they were off to regroup with the whale pod.

BREAK

Valerie managed to evade them, retreating into a dark corner Mr Lancer’s English classroom and glaring at anyone who came close. If the circumstances were any different, Sam would commend her goth attitude. Now it only drew pained sympathy.

Neither she nor Tucker forgot Valerie’s doomed romance with Danny, a messy affair in so many ways which ended with Valerie breaking it off in order to protect Danny from her enemies, primarily her worst nemesis Phantom, but also her shady employer Vlad.

The glare was much worse when Sam turned around to face Valerie, coincidentally at the same time Valerie was facing her. Ouch.

The lunch bell rang soon after. Part of Sam wanted to just leave Valerie be and just worry about Danny, but she also knew Danny wouldn’t want his friends (including Val) to suffer while he was away. It was a tough choice, but never let it be said Sam Manson was a coward. Amidst the hubbub and chatter of lunch time (and more disgusting rumours about Danny), she found Valerie hidden away on a bench in the corner of the yard.

“Good luck,” Tucker said. “Just don’t try to claw her eyes out.”

“Thanks Tuck. I’m glad I can rely on you to be my cheerleader in times of need.”

The tech geek gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up, as she began marching to Valerie.

Just breathe, Sam. No matter what her beef with Valerie was, she was hurting just as much as the rest of them, and she deserved to have someone in her corner too. Val wasn’t a bad person, just… Wildly misjudging.

Sam took a step forward, filled with determination. However, an electric tingle filled the air for a brief moment, then stopped.

There was a Focus technique that could detect energised substances based on their radiation. Sam sprinted back to her table with Tucker.

“What’s the hold up, Sam?”

“I thought I sensed something, but I have to double check.”

She rummaged through her backpack, and pulled out a wooden device that vent upward, like a rectangle with one of its longer sides missing, with two calipers on the ends to form a circuit. A couple buttons and dials were on the side of the device. She then pulled out a spindle of spider’s silk (ethically harvested for use by sorcerers!), and produced a delicate strand. She clasped the string in between the calipers, then twisted a valve to tighten it.

Then, she took a brush and dipped it into a bottle of honey, soaking the silk in a very thin layer of the stuff. It didn’t half to be honey, but it did have to be a liquid that was strongly connected to life or organic material. At last, she tapped one of the calipers, and Focused.

The string vibrated. She shifted the frequency of her Soul Energy, and in doing so, the string’s sensitivities changed.

Meanwhile, Tucker was clacking away at his PDA, which he had stashed in a nook in the rooftops. “The school sensors are going off. GiW response expected in twenty,” he said.

At last, Sam tuned to the right frequency for charged hydroplasm. Immediately the string began to vibrate vigorously. She pressed a button on the detection radar, and immediately it spat out a reading.

There were definitely no fewer than two sirens in a very close vicinity.

A huge splash of water was heard. She and Tucker looked to the centre of the courtyard, where another freshman was lying on the ground, coughing out water.

And from her lunchbox was a spout of water, and a distinct, annoying voice.

“I AM THE BOX SIREN, MASTER AND TAMER OF ALL THINGS CORRUGATED AND CARDBOARD, BUT NOT TODAY, FOR I HAVE DECIDED TO EXPAND MY DOMAIN TO METAL AND FABRIC. YOUR LUNCH BOXES ARE MINE. THOSE WHO WISH TO IMPEDE MY PROGRESS, BEWARE.”

Chapter Text

While it was true that San and Tucker frequently assisted Danny in his fights against the terrors of the deep, they mostly did so from the sidelines, or with background things like research and hacking. Sam did fist fight the occasional siren, but those occasions were always in fights hidden from public view at night or in isolated places. Other times, they were in public view, just that the whole town was being mind-controlled (thanks Ember).

Without Danny’s showoffiness to hide behind, they had no choice but to fight. Sam shoved her tools into her backpack. She grabbed Tucker’s arm and pulled him into the retreating crowd, where they could disappear. Alarms blared in the hallways. They weaved between the screaming mob like a siren’s tail-stroke. Sam’s eyes clocked the nearest bathroom. Underneath the cover of chaos and darkness, Sam slipped in, Tucker still being dragged behind.

“Sam! This is the girls’ bathroom!” The boy hissed.

“Shut up and get dressed. We need to get Boxie contained before the GiW get here. Or worse, Valerie gets him.” Sam was already shucking off her coat. Luckily, the bathroom was empty.

“Right. Right.” Tucker muttered. He pulled a lock pick from his pocket and kneeled at the door. Best make sure they were not to be interrupted. “I thought all the sirens had skipped town with the GiW showing up and all.”

“Clearly not all of them. I’m guessing they’ve sensed the GiW’s efforts are being pulled elsewhere, and are taking advantage of the opportunity.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

Sam clipped her on her cloak and mask as Tucker finished locking the door with a click. “If the GiW actually gave a shit about people’s safety, they’d stay here and fight the sirens off, and we’d be able to give them the run around. Instead they’ll be dedicating all their resources to one siren half-way around the world, leaving the taxpayers fucking defenseless. Not that they were any good anyway,” she said.

Tucker pulled off his beret, and slipped on a futuristic yellow visor. “True dat. Isn’t weird that this is happening now of all times?”

“Extremely.” Sam slipped on a stylish set of combat boots, in bright purple and starry black, compared to her normal plain pair. Then came several pieces of lightweight armour onto her chest and arms, as well as her ten-gallon hat, enchanted to provide minor deflection. A tight pair of gauntlets slipped onto her hands, and she punched her fists to confirm their sturdiness.

Tucker zipped up his borrowed Fenton Wetsuit, padded for protection. His trainers were replaced by boots with retractable flippersThe boy strapped several weapons to his utility belt, and finished with a black jacket.

Their set-up was overall much more substance over style. They were never meant to be in the spotlight. Danny wasn’t either, but Walker took that decision out of his hands.

“Let’s roll.” Tucker placed his PDA into a safe compartment.

Of course, they weren’t going to go out the door. That would be stupid. Sam stood at the far wall, underneath the window, and held his hands out. Tucker stepped onto them and kicked the window open.

Line break

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!! WHEN THE GHOST BOY IS AWAY, THE BOX SIREN WILL COME OUT TO PLAY! THERE IS NO ENTITY WHICH CAN DEFEAT ME.”

“I’d reconsider that, fish freak.” Valerie spat.

The Box Siren turned around on his big freaky crab legs, glaring at her from the lunch box from which he had emerged. He was seriously then times its size. How did he fit in?!

Valerie loaded her bazooka. “Are you gonna come quietly or are you gonna let me waste you?”

“HAH! YOU ARE A FOOL IF YOU BELIEVE A CYLINDRICAL FIRING DEVICE CAN TOPPLE THE BOX SIREN!” Could this guy get any louder?! “HAVE AT THEE!”

With a flick of his wrist, dozens of lunch boxes floated into the air, and turned to her. Shit. Fruit, slabs of meat, juice boxes and utensils fired at her like bullets. Valerie leapt to the side, and returned pink hydroblasts in turn.

“YOU ARE TOO SLOW, PUNY HUMAN, FOR THE BOX SIREN HAS ALREADY RETREATED!” The siren said as he retreated inside the lunch box from which he came. Valerie chased after him as the other boxes magnetically darted to follow their new master. However, the light of the lunch box portal went out, and the enemy was gone.

“Dammit. We were too late.”

Valerie knew that voice. She gritted her teeth, and her vision turned blood red. Her stomping approach did not go unnoticed by Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley in their stupid, cheap, flimsy disguises. Danny’s “friends” tensed up.

“Red Huntress.” Foley said. “Did you see where the Box Siren went? We have to catch him.”

“Stay out of my way,” Valerie said. “This is a job for professionals. People who actually know how to protect this town.”

“Can it, Red,” Manson growled out. “Where’s Box Siren? One moment he was here, the next he was gone. We have to get him contained before anyone gets hurt.”

“Until you let him go to wreak havoc another day. I don’t think so.”

Manson sputtered. Valerie grinned underneath her helmet. “You think we want the sirens to cause trouble?! We-”

“So you are working with Phantom. I knew it!” Valerie shouted.

Manson and Foley went stiff. Manson’s eyes narrowed underneath her mask. “What’s it to you?” she whispered in a dangerous tone.

Phantom ruined her life, that was what. “Phantom’s a murderer and a kidnapper. Does it bother you that he butchered a ten-year-old kid like fresh veal?”

Manson’s fists clenched. Good. That was what an accomplice did when you threw the crimes they helped with to their face. “Phantom’s risked his neck for you ungrateful sops time and time again. Why would he just randomly kill a kid for no reason?!”

Screaming rang out from inside the school building. “Uh, girls! Look I know you’re having fun screaming at all, but people are in danger in there!” Foley shouted.

Leave it to Manson to waste time defending Phantom over saving lives. “I’ll handle it.” Valerie said as she mounted her hover surfboard.

Line break

Tucker dashed through the halls, right behind Sam. “I guess we know for sure Valerie’s upset about Danny.”

“Yeah, but how does she know that we’ve been working with Phantom?”

“I’m guessing her ‘mysterious benefactor’ told her.” Tucker meant Vlad of course. “She’s never seen us before.”

“Which makes it even more suspicious that Vlad’s gonna be arriving here in Amity.”

“Shouldn’t he be chasing after Phantom? Like, you’d think of all places to be, he’d be on the boat with Mrs Fenton.”

“Ugh. TF, I’m gagging now.”

“Sorry!” Let’s just get Boxie boxed up.”

“And make sure Valerie doesn’t get to him,” Sam finished.

The lockers on the sides of the hall were all open, their contents flung out onto the floor. Sounds about right for Boxie’s MO. Tuck carefully hopped over the obstacles while Sam just kicked them out of the way. The sound of screaming neared, coming from the cafeteria.

Sam body-slammed the doors open. Box Siren and Valerie were locked in an intense shoot-out, trading hydro blasts and assorted boxed lunches, all the while a couple of very unfortunate students cowered in the corners behind cafeteria table barricades.

“What does she think she’s doing?” Sam muttered. “TF, you take the right, I’ll take the left.”

Tucker nodded, and dashed for the students even as his sides throbbed in pain. He leapt over a stray blast from Valerie, then ducked underneath another, while high-speed bananas splat on the wall.

“You gotta get out of here,” he shouted to the teenagers hiding in their wooden shields. He saw Nathan, Wes and Mikey, probably following Wes in trying to find evidence for his crazy theories. By their shaking knees, Tucker guessed they found more than enough. “I’ll lead you out, but you need to stay behind me.”

He pulled out the Fenton Personal Siren Shield (or Fenton PS2 as Danny liked to call it) and slid it into his arm. A large blue field arched in front of him. Tucker looked behind him. His classmates’ eyes looked between him and the ongoing fight with wariness. Summoning the kind of authoritative voice his mother always used, Tucker shouted. “Come on!”

That got their attention. The civilian teens filed behind him, slumped behind the PS2 as Tucker slowly guard their escape. More attacks hit the shield, bouncing off its glow. The battery gauge on his wrist ticked down with every it. There was a reason this thing was still a prototype. He glanced to the side where Sam was deflecting blasts with her gauntlets Wonder Woman style.

Valerie wasn’t having much luck with Boxie. The siren was having the time of his life, though. After months of getting clowned on by Danny with zero effort, the guy was revelling in the feeling of not losing. Every missed shot only incensed Valerie further.

At last, both he and Sam were in spitting distance of the exit doors. The teens dashed from underneath their protection, and left the scene. Now that there were no humans left to save, they could focus on Boxie and Val.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the ocean…

“I’m en route now. ETA is four hours. I’ll be there by 8 pm local time.”

Bruce Wayne hummed into the phone. “Thank you. Keep me posted.”

“I will, and good luck, Bruce. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“I hope there is.”

The man hung up, and sighed. The GiW were not to be trusted, and neither was this Red Huntress, who he was very sure was yet another teenage girl in over her head. In his haste to pursue his son, wherever he was, he had neglected to consider the possibility of sirens wreaking havoc on Amity Island without the three best defenders present. Then again, the GiW had ‘assured’ him that all the pods had skipped town, but that was clearly untrue.

And yet, in the moment where the town needed them to step up the most, the GiW still decide to pursue Phantom, even as he’s thousands of miles away.

A hero, no, anyone entrusted with the responsibility to protect had to live by one rule above all else: Prioritise the rescue.

The GiW would not be getting out of this unscathed.

Bruce stretched his back, and left his cabin. The engine’s rumbling permeated the boat. It was an amazing feat of engineering from the Fentons, a system that was clean, efficient and quiet, running off of natural Hydroplasm, wave and solar power. It was much less quiet while they were repairing the thing, though.

He leaned over the side, waving to Jack. “How’s progress?”

“We’re almost there, Brucie! Just a few more kinks to work out, and the SAV will be good as new!” Jack stood on a secured pulley hanging off the side of the boat, a hastily put-together solution for unplanned maintenance in the middle of the sea. Jasmine was there too, leaning over the side and passing tools to her father.

Bruce left them to their work, and headed for the bridge, where Maddie was monitoring the spy drones, and furiously writing down observations in a little notebook. He seated himself in the chair next to him.

Maddie was still absorbed into her task, having not noticed him. Her notebook was filled with neat handwriting despite the speed and ferocity with which she wrote, in a shorthand he couldn’t quite parse. Footage from the drone played on the monitor. Phantom and his young green friend were seated on the back of a large whale, the apparent leader of a whale pod, alongside another young siren with orange scales. The orange one was younger than Phantom, but older than the green child. They were secured on the whale’s back with a long line of kelp like a horse’s harness.

The spy drone that Jack and Maddie had designed was a marvel of engineering tempered by ADHD and a lack of proper funding, just like a lot of their inventions. Most flying drones faced significant issues with noise, while the Fentons managed to engineer one that was nearly silent. Not only that, but it could fly and submerge itself to follow the duo – now trio – of sirens wherever they went.

If this technology fell into the wrong hands, it would spell disaster.

The sirens, despite being very young, were able to use tools. They also knew how to tie rope. They seemed to have some kind of symbiotic relationship with the whales.

“So, any observations?” Bruce asked, not letting on the fact that he was also observing his current research partner.

Maddie jolted, a deviation from her normal hyper-alertness. It went to show just how absorbed she’d been. “Bruce! You startled me. How’s your head?”

Bruce rubbed his head, an easy smile on his face. “I’ve gotten worse hits falling down the stairs. I’ll be fine. So, you’ve been taking notes?”

She nodded. “I’ve been observing them for the better part of the last three hours. Siren sounds carry far in the water, so the drone’s been able to pick up audio samples. We can’t decipher them, though.”

“We’d need a skilled linguist to do so, I’d imagine,” Bruce added.

“I’ve also taken note of their new addition. Earlier, the drone caught Phantom and Emerald,”

“Sorry, who’s Emerald?”

“Oh!” Maddie turned to him. “I’m getting ahead of myself. Emerald is what Jazz named Phantom’s accomplice. Earlier, the drone found Phantom and Emerald leaving the whale pod behind, but they didn’t take their possessions with them either. It was only when Jack tuned its audio detectors that we realised they were echolocating the whole time. When the drone comes back, we’ll have to modify its microphones. This is something we’ve never seen the sirens do before. It’s probably because most of the time, the sirens are above water back in Amity, so their echo-location isn’t used to being used that way. It’s incredible! I thought we’d been thorough in designing the drone, but apparently not!”

“So, they were responding to a member of their pod?” Bruce said, trying to nudge the conversation back to its original point.

“I don’t think so. They didn’t seem to recognise the orange siren. Emerald seemed wary of them, in fact. I’m thinking this siren could be another accomplice of Phantom’s, that he met before Emerald.”

Bruce hummed. The orange boy (at least he seemed to be a boy)’s striking orange provided a sharp contrast to Emerald’s green, and Phantom’s ghostly white and black. “Are sirens known to travel with whales?”

“At first we thought they would eat whales, to be honest. With their powers, it wouldn’t be hard to kill one. However, it seems they’re using the whales as a transport aid. Look.”

Bruce turned to the monitor, which showed a short tussle between Emerald and the orange siren. Orange clicked something, to which Emerald took offense, and launched himself at the older boy. Orange dodged, and Emerald’s harness pulled taut, causing him to flip over his back, bending his dorsal fin. Emerald cried out, and Phantom was upon him in a moment.

The definition was awful, but Bruce swore he could see worry in Phantom’s eyes, and tenderness in the way he looked over the smallest siren’s body.

Maddie cleared her throat, like there was a thick lump lodged in it. “Emerald was badly hurt by Skulker. That’s why they’ve been hitching a ride with the whales.”

“The whales probably benefit a lot too. Phantom’s powerful enough to fight off any whalers.”

Maddie didn’t respond. She held her pen a hair’s breadth above her notebook, transfixed by the monitor showing an underwater world so close, yet so far. As Phantom finished his inspection, his heart slowed down. Orange leaned closer, clicking, to which Emerald lazily swiped his claws. It was clear the youngest siren’s fight had left him, though. Phantom turned the little siren over on his back, and carefully peeled off the kelp wrappings over Emerald’s body, causing him to hiss and flare his fins. Phantom stroked the boy’s fins gently, chirping something, and the green and gold fins settled down as the wrappings came off, before being replaced with new bandages.

The three boys clicked and trilled at each other some more as Emerald settled into Phantom’s hold.

They all looked so painfully young.

He glanced to the side, and watched a hard lump form in Maddie’s throat, one that had to be forced down.

Chapter Text

Tucker could tell how Val’s shoulders heaved that she was running out of steam. Meanwhile, Boxie continued to delight in toying with her. At times he deliberately baited her into taking shots at obvious traps or misdirections, delighting in her rage and frustration like a matador in a fucked up reverse of the normal human vs beast situation. Normally, Tucker would have a laugh at anyone struggling against Boxie, but it was clear Val was off her game.

He and Sam cleared the last of the hostages, and turned their attention to the battle. Their mission now was to get Boxie away from Val (and give him a good talking to after this was all done).

Valerie, for her part, finally managed to land a good shot on Boxie, sending him flying into the kitchen area. It made him a little nostalgic for the first ever siren fight they took part in, back when things were unsteady and strange and unfamiliar. The crab man groaned in pain, and Tucker quickly took the opportunity to activate the Fenton Thermos. The cylinder opened up and shined a powerful beam of light over the Box Siren. Boxie screamed “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooo” as the light converged on his body, dragging him into the device. Tucker shut the thermos tight, and whistled at a good day’s work done.

A growl alerted him to the very angry Valerie swiftly approaching him. Tucker squeaked in fear, before the equally scary Sam shunted herself in between the ticking time bomb of anger headed his way.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Sam shouted. “You were so focused on fighting the Box Siren of all things that you left all those kids for dead! My partner and I had to escort them while under fire from your guns that you’re waving around like a crazy person. You almost hit Mikey!”

Valerie marched up to Sam and poked her in the chest. “Excuse me for actually dealing with the threat before it could endanger more lives. If those guys had any sense they would’ve run away the moment trouble showed up. They had ample opportunity to!”

Even Tucker could feel his anger growing. What the hell kind of victim blaming was that?! You couldn’t just expect people to act the way you want them to in an emergency. Whenever Danny was in a siren fight, he always tried to direct his opponent away from any humans in the way, while Tucker and Sam helped clear the crowd from behind the scenes. They’d learned to do so early on after Dash got caught in the crossfire trying to be a hero in an early fight. They’d studied hours of Justice League fight footage, looking closely at how Wonder Woman kept crowds at bay, how Batman directed his teammates to secure buildings as people got out, how Superman corralled enemies away from population centres.

“And now you’re just gonna let the siren get away scot free after all he did?” Val continued.

“If I didn’t know better it seemed you cared more about fighting sirens than actually protecting anyone.” Venom laced every word Sam spoke.

Val shook. Her fists clenched tight. She moved to throw a punch. The wailing of ambulances and police sirens (ironic) blared in the distance, stopping her in her tracks. The girls fired hateful glares, before turning around and running in opposite directions.

“Come on,” Sam said to him, and Tucker obliged wordlessly. The run back to the bathroom was blessedly, yet also anxiously quiet. Once they were back, they set about changing back into their normal clothes.

“She’s not entirely wrong,” Tucker started. Without Danny to stay her righteous fury, Tucker was more than a little bit afraid of Sam’s wrath. Actually, maybe he’d made a mistake. “Well, what I mean to say is-!”

Instead, Sam sighed. “No, you’re right.” She slid her gloves off, and stashed them in her bag. “It feels pointless to just fight sirens, send them packing, only for them to come back in like three months. But we can’t just leave them in the thermos forever like we’re the judge, jury and executioner.”

“And as long as sirens don’t have any rights, they can’t have a fair trial.” Tucker packed the thermos away, and slipped his shirt on.

Sam shuddered. “No, they can’t.”

With their conspicuous siren-fighting gear (and Boxie) safely packed away, Sam and Tucker made their way to the evacuation zone. They reached the gym quickly, just as police officers and GiW agents entered. He and Danny had long modified the Thermos to hide the signatures of anyone caught inside, leaving the scanners empty. The two of them entered the gym and were greeted by a cacophony of murmurs and screams. They hadn’t given the evacuate order yet, seeing as it was just the Box Siren.

“20,000 Leagues Under the Sea! Mr Foley! Ms Manson!” Mr Lancer shouted the moment he spotted them. Tucker cursed their luck. Their teacher practically laser locked onto them. And here he was hoping they could slip into the back of the ground and pretend they’d always been there. The man’s shout alerted the rest of the students to their presence as Mr Lancer marched right up to them.

“Uh, hi Mr Lancer! How’s it going?” Sam punched him in the arm for that.

“Sorry for running late Mr Lancer.”

“This is a little more serious than a mere tardy in class. You could’ve been seriously injured! Please tell me you did not encounter the attacking siren.”

Tucker vigorously shook his head. So did Sam. “Nope! Never saw ‘em. Did you?”

“Thank heavens, no. What kept you so long? Are you injured?”

“We’re fine.” Sam huffed. “We were just looking for Val. She’s been acting off since Danny…”

Mr Lancer’s expression softened immediately. Way to go, Sam. Gotta love the emotional manipulation. “Did you find her? I have been trying to call her phone this entire time, as well as yours, but she won’t, or cannot pick up.”

Tucker shrugged. “Sorry, Mr Lancer.”

The man sighed. “I understand wanting to look out for your fellow students, but you must think of your own safety as well. What if you had been intercepted by our aquatic assaulter? We have neither the Fentons nor Phantom to protect us, and our current knights in shining armour are…” His face scrunched up, as his eyes drifted to the entrance of the room, where Principal Ishiyama was berating the GiW agents for arriving so late.

“It won’t happen again,” Sam smoothly lied.

The rest of the proceedings went on without much fanfare. With the school swept and the GiW finding no sirens, everyone was cleared to head home. He still didn’t see Valerie anywhere.

Underneath the long shadows of the late afternoon sun, Tucker’s phone rang at the same time as Sam’s. They exchanged quizzed looks, before moving to answer the calls. Tucker stood a little off to the side, to give Sam and himself some space.

His mom was on the other end. “Tucker! I just heard there was a siren attack at school. Are you ok?”

He could almost hear the extra questions tacked on, like ‘were you fighting the siren?’ ‘did you actually run from the siren or towards it?’

Tucker chuckled. “We’re fine, Mom. Not a scratch on me. Besides, it was just the Box Siren. No need to worry!”

“Oh… well that’s a relief.” Her voice sounded anything but relieved. It shook with uncertainty. “Sweetie, where are you right now?”

“Just in front of school. We’ve just been let out. Why?”

“Oh, good! Is Sam with you?”

“Uh…” Where was his mum going with this? “Yeah? Mom, what’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just… I think it’s time we all had a talk, family to family. Sam’s parents have already sent a limo to pick you guys up.”

Tucker’s chest tightened. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Had she found out his secret stash? Did Sam’s parents find her illicit activities? “What? A limo? Mom, what’s going on?”

“You’re not in trouble, Tucker.” Somehow that sentence never made him feel like he wasn’t in trouble. “Well, not in any more trouble. Your father and I are at Sam’s house. We’ll be waiting for you. You’ll see when you get here.” She hung up, leaving just droning beeps behind.

Sam clenched her first behind him. “I’m guessing your parents have deigned to summon you to my house?”

Tucker nodded, grim fears already taking off in his mind.

“If you don’t mind me, I’m walking home. You can take the limo if you want.”

Normally, he’d jump at the chance to taste the luxurious life, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to arrive first and be alone with all four of their parents. Sam didn’t wait for his decision, and was already stomping off. “H-hey, wait up a second, Sam!”

Not long after, they arrived at the gates of his friend’s mansion. Tucker panted and wheezed. Sam didn’t make keeping up with her easy, especially with all her weird detours to throw off her parent’s chauffeur. He still welcomed the excuse to delay the day of judgement. The past week, both his parents and hers had been icy to say the least, and he wasn’t excited to find out what the other shoe had in store for them.

They stood at the doorway, Tucker having not quite caught his breath. “You ready for this? Cause I’m not,” he huffed out.

Sam sighed. “Let’s get this over with. If you want, I can fight your parents for you,” she joked. Tucker didn’t doubt she had the will or the way.

“Thanks Sam, but I’ll be fine. Maybe.”

They pushed open the door, revealing the empty foyer. “Come on, they’re probably in the living room.” Sam said. She led Tucker across the opulent space lined with paintings and sculptures to a large set of doors off to the side, and shoved them open without a word.

There, in the living room, sat comfortable on the couches were their parents, all with tea and cookies on the coffee table. Sam’s Grandma Ida was on her rocking chair, pretending to be asleep. Whatever conversation they were having stopped, and everyone (except for Granny Ida) turned to stare straight at him and Sam, including a blond woman who, if he and his best friends hadn’t spent hours watching Justice League fight clips, he wouldn’t have recognised. However, he did, and so he knew that the woman sitting in the centre of the room was none other than Black Canary, senior member of the Justice League, sitting in Sam’s living room, having tea and biscuits with their parents.

It didn’t help that he had a bit of a crush on her after watching so many clips.

“Good afternoon! You must be Tucker and Sam!” Black Canary said, and immediately, his brain blasted into overdrive as an acute sense of danger filled every nerve.

Chapter Text

“How exactly did you wind up in the middle of nowhere in a shipwreck?” Damian questioned the newcomer, Colin (if that was even his real name!!!). The orange boy sad with his tail folded up beneath him, while Damian lay with his arms over Danny’s belly, the oldest boy providing a suitable barrier against the suspicious agent. “And how does that exactly fit into attempting to combat this criminal organisation?”

Colin scratched the base of his dorsal fin. “I was just heading back home. I found one of their goons and tried to wrestle some info out of him, but then an Atlantean patrol found us.” He made a face. “Bleh, Atlanteans. They tried to bring me in for questioning, and they roughed me up a lot doing it. Granted, I did steal a bunch of their stuff a couple weeks back, but still!”

Damian clicked with doubt. “You? Taking on Atlanteans? Preposterous.” Of course, Damian himself had managed to take on and humiliate more than a few Atlanteans, but he was Robin and had access to high tech tools, none of which Colin could say the same for.

“As if you’ve ever fought one, except maybe a toddler,” Colin teased with a disgustingly smug grin. Damian bore his teeth with a savage hiss.

“Damian, you sound like a kitten having a tantrum,” Danny mumbled, half-asleep.

“You stay out of this. This miscreant doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“What are we talking about?” Danny reached up and lifted the satchel currently covering his eyes, peaking drowsily from underneath it.

“Nothing of importance.” Damian gently pushed the satchel back down. His friend shrugged and his fins relaxed again, returning the purring rhythm to his body. Ah, the perfect massage chair.

“What about you?” Colin asked.

“What?”

“You know, I told you why I’m here, now you gotta tell me.”

Damian sneered. “Fine, but tell me your surname first. I do not trust you enough to be on a first name basis.”

The orange siren tilted his head quizzically, like he’d been given a particularly bothersome puzzle. “What’s a surname?”

Right. Human concept. “A secondary name denoting your genealogical or geographical origin, usually passed down from one’s parents to their children.”

“Oooh, so like a last name, right?”

Damian’s hip fins twitched. “Yes.”

The other siren shrugged. “I kinda don’t have any family to give me one? I mean, the nursery guardians told me they broke me out of some crazy scientist’s lab as a fry. They looked for my parents for weeks, but couldn’t find anyone, so they took me in.”

Despite the dark-sounding story, the other boy didn’t seem all that bothered, his cadence reflecting the nonchalant-ness with which people talked about the sky being blue. Then again, maybe sirens simply do not raise their own spawn. After all, such an idea is a more mammalian concept that most ocean creatures do not share. Why should sirens? Then again, that brought Damian back to the question of whether sirens were mammals or fish. Cursed species classification methods.

“And you didn’t take their surnames?” he probed.

The orange boy froze. “Oh, and sirens around here don’t really do last names.”

Wow, Damian was beginning to think that Colin was just wasting his time. He glared at the older boy’s stupid innocent smile. “You were doing that on purpose!”

“I mean, you can call me a nickname if Colin doesn’t sound right.”

That sounded even more informal and friendly than just using his name. Damian did not enjoy that possibility. “I will pass,” he said as he curled up on himself. It was approaching sundown, and the tiredness of the day had settled in. The whale calls vibrated his bones in a soothing rhythm, providing a steady backdrop to the empty waters.

There was something poking his fins. Damian opened his eyes, glaring at Colin. “Heyy, you never told me what you guys are up to in this neck of the ocean. I mean, if you don’t wanna that’s fine, but now I’m curious. I mean, where’d you learn about human ideas like last names? And what’s up with the human bag you guys’ve got?” Then he stopped himself, gasping. “Wait, did you escape from a mad human scientist lab too?!”

Damian turned his nose up. “Tut. Do you always ask this many questions? We are on a mission. Highly classified.”

Danny stirred slightly. “Actually we’re heading to Dora’s,” the teenager mumbled. That was very unwise! He was giving up sensitive information!

Their tagalong lit up, his fins flitting in an incessant buzzing motion. “Oh! I know Dora! She comes by the nursery every so often and gives us gifts, and she talks to passing pods so they’ll swing by and adopt a guppy! She’s super nice!”

Former Princess, now Queen Dorathea, as Danny had told Damian, was part of the royal line of some distant siren kingdom, one of a small number of permanent siren settlements. Most sirens lived nomadically, migrating along the ocean’s currents from season to season. She had been under the imprisonment of her brother Aragorn until Danny helped her overthrow him. Also, she was involved in an incident in which Danny’s friend Samantha Manson and one-time date Paulina Sanchez were separately turned into giant sea dragons.

He did learn that sirens do have a tradition of caring for their young directly, however.

“Yep!” Danny agreed. “I helped her out with something a couple months back. We’re hoping we could ask for some help in turn, maybe get us some supplies and magic for the road ahead. I can’t really swim at full speed without a crap tonne of food, but it’s hard to get any in this wasteland.”

Colin (how he hated using such a familiar term with such an unfamiliar person) let out a chirp of interest that Damian distinctly did not like the sound of. “Wait a minute… What were you helping Dora with a couple months ago?”

Damian felt his bed – really Danny’s belly – shift as the eldest of them sat up, knocking Damian off unceremoniously. The youngest boy hissed at Danny as he quickly repositioned himself on Danny’s lap. “Well, it’s kind of a long story, and I kinda of, er…”

“Tt. He is too modest for his own good. Danny here defeated Aragorn in single combat and assisted Dorathea in reclaiming her kingdom,” Damian spoke with pride.

“HOLY CRAP, I KNEW YOU LOOKED KIND OF FAMILIAR!” Carrot-scales squealed, his high-pitched chirps echoing across the waterscape. “You’re Sir Phantom, right? The hero that saved the kingdom!”

Danny shrunk back, his fins folding in on themselves as a warm blue blush tinted his transparent cheeks. “Oh, well, Dora saved her kingdom. I just helped her out a little. Wait, what did you call me­–”

“Nonsense! You know how much we owe you? All Aragorn cared about was his own ego and chasing after girls, but now that he’s Ara-gone, everyone’s doing better. Sister Lucielle was able to quit her second job because the nursery’s finally getting enough food. Other pods are visiting us again, and Dora’s standing up to the Atlanteans instead of just letting them stomp all over us like Aragorn did. And it’s all thanks to you and Dora! You’re like, you’re like an underwater superhero!”

Aquaman was an underwater superhero too, although Damian was stopped from pointing that out by his recalling how appalling the Atlantean king’s troops had been treating him and Danny, and apparently many other sirens as well. Judging by the raised, then rapidly lowered finger and the look on Danny’s face, the older boy was thinking the same.

It was shocking how politics could cloud one’s reputation as a hero. Tut.

“Well, I try my best,” Danny said, still blushing furiously. Their marmalade-finned passenger leapt forward, fins wagging like a begging puppy.

“You were so cool! The nursery guppies and I got to see the whole fight. Aragorn was like rawwrr but you roasted him and then went POW, POW, and then…”

Damian tuned out the rapid streams of chirps and whistles as an unsettling feeling. The closeness with which Danny and their guest interacted felt… ugly. They’d only known each other for less than a day! Although cringing back due to shyness, there was no tension in Danny’s bones, no unease. How dare this Colin attempt to cozy up to the hero Phantom with spewed-out praise? What was he trying to do?

Damian could not take any more of it. He lowered his body flat against the ground – er, the top of the whale. He carefully loosened the harness of rope tied around his waist, giving him ample freedom of movement. As Danny and the orange stray they picked up spoke, Damian tensed his muscles.

In an explosive burst of movement, he leapt forward, arms outstretched and claws unsheathed. As if magnetically attracted to his aggression, the ginger siren’s eyes snapped at him and widened. Within a fraction of a second, his target dove for the ground – er, whale skin – and flattened himself. Damian sailed overhead, missing entirely. He opened his fins out like a parachute as he spun around, fanning his tail in the opposite direction to his momentum and coming to a stop.

“My turn!” Damian heard. Before he registered the sound his eyes caught a flash of orange and red on a collision course with him! He scrambled to the side and dodged the Suspect’s lunge.

Yes, he was very suspicious. From now on, Damian was to call him The Suspect, for how suspect her was.

The Suspect quickly righted himself and changed direct, landing on a patch of the mother whale’s back and laying low to it. Damian did the same.

The two sirens stared each other down, Damian channelling his challenge through looks alone.

“Try not to claw each other’s eyes out,” Danny called from the sidelines.

Damian adjusted his position, jolting his body in little jumps either to the left or right. His opponent instead wiggled his entire body, lower half undulating like a snake, or perhaps a cat waiting for its chance to pounce. His motions looked fluid, practiced like a predator on one hunt out of a thousand in its lifetime.

Faster than his reaction The Suspect pounced, body going from stationary to a blur in a fraction of a second. Damian yelped as yellow-scaled hands grabbed his body and pinned him down.

“Gotcha!” the Suspect said, grinning victoriously. Just like many criminals, this one counted his eggs before they hatched. Damian opened his mouth and hooked his teeth under the scales of the Suspect’s arm and bit. Hard.

“Ow! Holy moly that hurts!” the Suspect said, rearing back and landing on his butt, clutching his arm. But instead of rising to the challenge Damian posed to his life, he simply grinned. “You bite well for a fry!”

Damian? A fry!? He knew 80 was to kill a human man, and at least 40 more to kill a siren specifically! He bore his teeth out, shiny and sharp, presenting his aggression. The suspect smirked and drew in his arms, raising his chest and soft, vulnerable underbelly up. His fins flared wide.

“Bet you can’t do it twice.”

Oh, Damian could absolutely do it twice. His target wiggled his body tail, constantly adjusting his position. Damian would have to strike quickly or else his lunge would be dodged again.

An epiphany came to him. Damian spread his hip fins against the floor of the whale’s skin, grasping the smooth surface. He began to move his tail, twisting and undulating, constantly changing his attack vectors, his potential speed, the angling of his fins. The sensitive tips of his dorsal and tail fins provided a stream of precise feedback.

For a brief moment, predator and prey stared each other down, each attempting to throw the other off with their movements. At last, Damian saw his opportunity. The Suspect had drifted an inch too far to the left. Quickly shifting his tail a centimeter to the right, Damian took his chance. His body zipped forward like a missile. In his mind’s eye he pictured his enemy brought low underneath his currently non-existent heel, having been bested in this contest of wit and speed. The Suspect caught his movement and made a paltry attempt at dodging. Damian was faster. His heart sang with deep satisfaction as his claws made contact. The suspect wheezed as Damian’s head impacted his chest, forcing the water to blow out of his distended gills. Like a wet rag his enemy collapsed against the whale, his eyes shutting as he fell unconscious. Hah! So much for those boasts about fighting Atlanteans!

Damian purred with satisfaction as he curled up into a ball over the unconscious siren, for what better way to press your domination over an inferior foe than to use their useless, soft body as a cushion? Yes, this was comfortable. The defeated boy’s scales were a little softer than Danny’s belly scales. He’d grown used to seeing his older friend’s beating heart through his ribcage, and he missed the lack of the rhythmic motions. Colin’s smaller body also made for a slightly less comfortable pillow space, with Damian’s tailfin hanging off the side of his chest where on Danny’s chest, he’d have ample space. However, it was all worth it for the domination factor.

*splashing linebreak*

Danny grinned as he surreptitiously snapped a photo of the sleeping boys. Despite Damian’s aggressiveness, he was still honestly adorable, and part of hi sighed with relief that Colin didn’t seem to take it too personally.

He swam overhead, taking a few more ‘aerial’ shots of the sleeping boys, before he noticed the slightest quirk of Colin’s lips.

Ah, playing dead. He’d heard of lion dads playing dead when their cubs pounced on them when playing from Sam. He giggled to himself internally, knowing that Damian would go crazy if he knew his ‘win’ was a fake one. Good thing Danny wasn’t going to be telling him.

Oh, was that Colin’s fingers twitching? His muscles were still sore from the day, and he was very much in the mood to continue his nap and not have to deal with his two friends – was it too soon to call Colin a friend? He didn’t know. There was something familiar about the orange-haired siren boy that he couldn’t place – having another scuffle. Danny quickly swam back to where their backpack was tied to the harness and stowed the camera away. When he turned around, he noted the tension in Colin’s body, how his chest was puffed out just by a tiny milimetre as he prepared to counterattack. Not on Danny’s watch!

Darting forward he crashed on top of the pair, blowing the water out of Colin’s gills a second time that evening, and causing Damian to yelp.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Damian demanded.

“Cuddle pile!” Colin declared, having absolutely no protests about the situation, his tail bounding up and nudging around Danny’s. “Looks like you fell for my trap, Dami.”

“Do not call me that!” Damian’s baby rage thrummed against Danny’s chest, giving him a bit of a ticklish sensation to match with his amusement. His little fins bounced up and down, unable to go anywhere sandwiched between Danny and Colin.

“Boys, boys. Please, we have a long day ahead of us.” Danny yawned. Was this what Jazz felt whenever he used to misbehave? At least she didn’t have to deal with two younger kids under her charge, or else she might’ve gone crazy and turned into a supervillain.

“Release me first.” He could almost hear the pout in Damian’s voice, but Danny didn’t budge. Instead he let out a huge purr throttling through his body. Immediately his green friend turned limp, his muscles becoming jelly underneath the assault to his siren instincts.

Ah, quiet at last.

*cuddle pile line break!*

Valerie Gray stumbled into her flat, tired off her ass in more ways than one. The red hot rage at seeing them show their faces after what Phantom did had only faded, its embers waiting to be reignited. A shitty day, a shitty fight and all she had to come back to was a shitty flat. Her father greeted her with warm words that deflected off of her cold demeanour. She gave a half-hearted reply back. She couldn’t really be upset with her dad. He was doing the best he could, and so was she.

There was only an hour until she had to leave for work. She dipped into her tiny bedroom and turned on her laptop, one of the few things spared in the yard sale after Phantom’s first round of ruining her life. Her computer opened to a round of messages from her new friend, and Valerie found herself smiling despite the day she’d had.

She shot back a message asking to video call, and her friend came back with an answer within the second.

“Hi Val!” her friend called out from the other side of the screen, half a country away. “My word! You look awful! What happened? You didn’t respond to my texts.”

Valerie sighed in good nature, more at herself than at her friend. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had, Penny. Let me tell you about it…”

She launched into a long rant about the frustrations of the day, with her friend, Penny Spencer, providing an easy ear. Whenever she was with Penny, things felt easier, she felt heard.

“Wow. You just let them get away?”

“It’s not like I could stick around. Emergency services were about to flood the building, and Mr Lancer was probably worried sick about me being gone.”

Penny pursed her lips, looking contemplative. “I suppose you’re right, but do be careful. Oh, I know! Those two are going to be releasing that nasty siren soon, right?”

Valerie sat up, her interest piqued.

“What if you could, say, intercept them, or even catch the siren after they’re gone. I know you’re strong enough to take it on.”

Huh, that was a pretty good idea.

“Well, it’s just a crazy thought anyway.” Penny shrugged. “Do be careful, alright? You know how awfully terrified I am of the water, and especially sirens. Just the thought of those slimy monsters crawling around the school. Oh my god.”

“There’s no way I’m letting any of those nasty things get near you.” Valerie gave her friend a kind smile, trying her best to project strength through the small screen. “Speaking of, when are you gonna be transferring?”

“Oh, daddy was just in school this afternoon, in fact. All the paperwork’s done. In fact, my flight’s tonight, and I’ll be in school first thing tomorrow morning!”

“Woah! You sure you can handle being in school so soon?”

“I’ve never been readier!”

Chapter Text

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Black Canary said, gesturing for them to sit.

“All good things?” Tucker asked vainly. From what he knew about Black Canary, she was a martial arts master and metahumans hero who could blast sound waves with her signature Canary Cry, and she was a pop star on the side. However, from the way she was sitting he could’ve sworn Jazz was in front of him. There was something therapisty about her tone of voice.

A shudder crept up his back. Therapists. Eugh. He never wanted to repeat the week Spectra was in school. Some kid nearly drowned himself because of what she told him, and Danny was barely fast enough to save him.

“Lots of good things. Mostly worry, though. I’m sure you know who I am?”

“You’re Black Canary, Justice League hero, martial arts extraordinaire and pop star,” Sam said like she was reading off a resume. “So what now? You’re gonna arrest us? Try and squeeze us like grapes for info on Phantom? Cause you’re gonna find more than a couple helpless teenagers.”

Tucker would be impressed at Sam’s guts if she wasn’t actively antagonizing one of the world’s greatest martial artists and also Tucker’s middle school (and current, not that he’d ever tell you that) crush, someone that could kick their asses in a hundred different creative ways!

“Samantha!” Sam’s mom started, standing up from her place on the sofa as her dad tried to hold her back.”

“What she means is,” Tucker began nervously, only for Black Canary to shake her head.

“I’m not here to fight,” she said. “Although I think it’s best we talk alone.”

She gave a pointed look to the parents in the room. Tucker cast a look to his parents, but his mom just gave him an encouraging nod and a smile. Ominous.

“We’ll be waiting outside,” his dad said. “Take all the time you need.”

With that, he and Sam were left alone with Black Canary.

“So, like I’m said, I’m not here to arrest you anything of that matter.”

“Then why are you here?” Sam asked, the challenge still strong in her voice.

“Well, first and foremost, I wanted to meet you two. It’s clear you both have a lot of talent and skill.”

Tucker blinked. Of all the things he’d anticipated to come out of Black Canary’s mouth, it wasn’t that. “Well, er, thanks?”

He earned a kick to the shin from Sam for that one. Firstly, ow! Secondly, yeah that was probably warranted.

“I mean it. You’re both very brave for risking so much to protect your home from sirens, and while most adults would be… uncomfortable with teenagers fighting against such dangerous threats, I know from experience that sometimes teens step up to the plate because they have to, because the adults around them can’t.”

“I feel like there’s a but coming up,” Sam deadpanned.

“And what kind of ‘but’ do you think that is?” Black Canary asked, quirking her eyebrow. Yeah, she was definitely psychoanalyzing them. Great, as if Jazz and Spectra weren’t enough.

“Anything to do with Phantom? You know, the supposedly supervillain we were aiding and abetting? The only one sticking his neck out for this godforsaken town?”

“I can’t really judge Phantom, seeing as I’ve never met him. What I do know is that most adults think he’s a menace, and most of the kids idolise him, and what I also know is that kids are often smarter than adults give them credit for. Whether he’s evil or not, the facts right now are the same. The GiW are withdrawing from Amity Island, and with Phantom and the Fentons gone, that leaves this town in the hands of you two and the Red Huntress. I’m here because I want to help you, and also because frankly, you have the most experience in actually fighting sirens effectively and treating them humanely.”

Tucker’s eyes flicked to Sam, silently searching for guidance from his friend. She held a steady, firm pose, but the barest fidget in the back of her leg betrayed that underneath, she was just as uncertain as she was.

After spending so long sticking it to Danny’s parents, Sam’s parents, Vlad and the GiW, the idea of an adult actually seeing them, and offering help was… Well, it was downright weird. Not to mention just who that adult was, and who she worked with. While they still idolised the League, there was an air of trepidation whenever the idea of the League coming to Amity was brought up. Would they side with the ‘experts’, or side with Danny?

After a while, they gave up on the idea of asking for help. After a while, after they figured out their shit, they didn’t need the Justice League for most fights. Still, it would’ve been nice to get help. And now that help was here, it seemed too good to be true.

What would Danny say if he were here and not being chased across the ocean blue?

“You don’t care that we worked with someone that the adults are all calling a supervillain?” Tucker tested.

“The way I see it, you didn’t have a choice. Either way, the safety of your home was at stake. Nobody should fault you for that, and I can’t even fault you for hiding it from your parents, although I do discourage it in most cases.”

“Have you seen my parents?”

“Have you seen Sam’s parents?” Tucker asked at the same time as Sam.

“I’m surprised they even let you in the house at all, no offense, Ms Canary,” Sam continued.

“None taken.”

“Given your biker aesthetic and the black leather – totally rad, by the way – I’d have thought they’d turn you away while screaming ‘corruptor of the youth’ at you.”

“I suppose being part of the Justice League does have its perks,” Black Canary joked. Yeah, like good PR. Wish Danny had some of that. “That and the fact that, deep down, they’re worried about you. You’ve entered a world that they can’t follow, and for parents, it’s a challenge to realise your child can’t be protected by you forever.”

“So our parents want you to coddle us where they can’t?” Sam’s voice had turned bored, irreverent.

“I didn’t make any promises, just that I would talk to you and offer my help.”

Tucker gave Sam a wary look. “Fine, we’ll bite. What kind of help?” he asked.

“Well, I could give you a few pointers. For example, your footing needs work, Sam. Without a proper base, you’re more prone to losing balance and injuring yourself, or else, becoming vulnerable to attack. And, if you will allow, I can be your backup. Nobody in this business wants to go into a fight without the assurance that there’s someone behind them that they can trust. For six months, you were Phantom’s backup. Now, you need backup of your own.”

“And in exchange?” Tucker asked. Absentmindedly he thumbed the outline in his trousers where his PDA usually sat.

“I want you to teach me. What you know about sirens, and how to fight them humanely. For what it’s worth, I don’t think the Fentons and the GiW are as airtight on the subject of sirens as they want us to believe. The situation here isn’t ideal, but we can make the best of it that we can.”

So that was Black Canary’s proposal. She’d give them the guidance and help they’d been desperate for for months. Hell, maybe they could convince her Danny wasn’t a bad guy, and she’d convince the rest of the League. Maybe, just maybe he and Sam could earn a spot on the Titans!

Was it too good to be true?

And if he was this conflicted, he couldn’t imagine how hard Sam was thinking. Black Canary was an idol of hers, right alongside Poison Ivy and Raven.

“Can we think about it?” Tucker asked at last.

Black Canary nodded. “Of course. My offer still stands.” In a swift motion, a card appeared between her index and middle fingers. The heroine tossed the card their way with one smooth flick of the wrist. It landed cleanly in Sam’s hands as his friend caught it. “My number. I’ll be staying at the Sandy Pearl Hotel. You know it?”

“Why not the Grand Plaza Hotel?” Tucker mused. Since Canary was here on League business, he imagined they’d spring for somewhere comfortable.

“Sandy Pearl is closer to most of the siren attack hot spots. Plus, it’s more on the down low.”

Right, that made a lot of sense.

“Before I leave, I want to ask you one last question.”

“Shoot.”

“Where do you see yourself in three years? What will you do if the siren attacks continue, or if they stop, and Amity Island returns to peace?”

Tucker gulped.

“Can we think about that one too?”

Black Canary gave them a nod. “Of course. I hope to see you two soon.”

The superhero rose from her seat and left, leaving just him and Sam alone.

It felt unreal, what they just had. It felt unfair, without Danny there too. He was the one actually putting his fins on the line. Every gouge from a siren’s claw, every scorch mark from a hunter’s stray blast, the existential dread of becoming something irreversibly inhuman, that was all Danny. And yet, he found the courage to jump in the water and fight time and time again. All Tucker did was trail behind Danny’s tail, literally.

Sam’s shoulders practically melted as her body physically unwound, like a spring at last given relief. “Was that real? Did that really just happen?”

“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t know.”

Sometime later…

The purples of dawn hadn’t yet stained the night sky when Danny awoke. A powerful purring sensation thrummed beneath his chest, Damian and Colin together. The water was still around them; the whales having fallen asleep as well. Just for good measure, he formed a little ice hook and reached into their secured backpack, pulling out the underwater camera for a selfie.

The battery on the thing was running out, a small miracle given how long it had been since it was last charged. It wasn’t exactly easy to find a power outlet in the middle of the ocean, and Danny wasn’t exactly excited to test his capabilities as a lightning rod.

Despite how comfortable his position was, he needed to make sure they were on course. Regretfully, he left the two sleeping kids alone as he swam up to the surface. Danny’s head popped out of the water as he peered up at the sky, eyes latching onto the right stars.

Looked like they were just south of the equator now. He counted out their latitude and longitude according to the stars, aaanndd–

“Where are we, Danny?”

Danny yelped, frantically waving his arms around at whatever attacker had appeared and oh. It was just Damian, his head partially surfaced and eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, Damian. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I noticed you surfacing. I am a light sleeper when I am not injured.”

Danny rubbed his neck scales. He felt a little guilty for waking Damian up, especially since he’d rather the kid get some more rest just to be safe after what happened on Skulker’s yacht. “Well, we’re just south of the equator. I’ve been tasting the currents and I’m starting to notice cold currents going west. That and the stars tells me we’re pretty far off the coast of Ecuador.”

Damian’s eyes flickered. “Say that again?”

Danny sighed, mentally preparing the mouthful of numbers to read off. “I said we’re–”

“DO YOU REALISE WHAT WE HAVE STUMBLED UPON?!” Damian squealed in an uncharacteristically giddy manner. “The Galapagos Islands are practically over the horizon westward!”

“Oh, huh, I never thought about that.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Damian’s little face scrunched up with utter disgust. “It is one of the world’s most treasured national parks, filled with hundreds of unique species, where Charles Darwin built the groundwork for his theory of evolution. There are tortoises that can weigh up to 400 kg! Sea lions, marine iguanas, and the world’s only penguin species north of the equator. We simply must go there.”

“B-but, but what about Dora’s kingdom?”

“Dorothea can wait. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“Dude, isn’t your dad like ultra-rich? He could probably buy a house there or something after we get you home.”

However, Damian was steadfast in his determination. “It will not be the same as having travelled here on my own fins.”

More like Danny’s fins for most of this journey, and the whales’ fins for the last week, but Danny wasn’t counting or anything.

To make matters worse, his lateral line buzzed, alerting him to Colin surfacing between him and Damian. “What are you two shouting about? It’s –yawn– way too early for this stuff.”

“Danny has informed me that we are near the Galapagos Islands.”

And instead of being reasonable, Colin’s eyes gained a similar sparkle. “Wait, already? Sweet! I know some great langostino places over there, y arroz marinero, y–”

“What? You want to go to the home of some of the world’s most beautiful and unique animals for the human street food?!” Damian accused. “You are a siren! They would sooner put you on the menu than serve it to you.”

Oh no, it was definitely too early in the morning for an argument. Danny quickly slapped his webbed fingers over each of the boys’ mouths.

“Alright, alright– hey!” Damian hadn’t even waited two seconds before licking his hand. Not that Danny would succumb and release him. “We are not going to the Galapagos Islands. That’s like a huge detour. We’re on a long journey here and we can’t just stop by every little attraction,” that one earned another furious hiss from Damian and a whine of complaint from Colin, “within a hundred-mile radius. We are going to continue swimming and that’s final.”

Chapter Text

“Please, please, please, please, pleeaaaassse…” Colin whined, having spent the better part of the morning swimming in little circles around Danny while he was trying to forage for food. The waters around them had long since turned warm now that they were near the equator, and the ocean floors were beginning to teem with life again. It wasn’t too hard to gather enough food for their bext meal.

“Why can’t you go there yourself?” he asked the younger boy. Colin froze, drifting like a pool toy and slowly turning upside down from his previous momentum.

“Well!” Colin righted himself with a quick flap of his fins. “It’s not as fun going alone. Plus, Damian wants to go too, but he’ll probably cause problems if you’re not there with us.”

“Damian’s not coming with you, Colin. We have a lot sea to cover. And Damian can go visit the Galapagos Islands whenever he wants to after we’re done.”

Colin whined pitifully and did the swimming equivalent of sauntering off back to the whales.

The two younger boys refused to talk to him the rest of the morning for anything other than begging. Any time Danny tried to start a conversation, he was swiftly met with a a puppy-eyed plea. And when he inevitably rebuffed their request, he was given the cold, scaly shoulder. Eventually, even Dorothy the whale calf had noticed, swimming up to where they were set up and nudging him.

Well, if those two wanted to be grumpy sourpusses, then they could be his guests! He was going to be a man about it and just carry on. Danny called on his powers, pooling them in his palm. The ice formed layers upon layers on top of itself, solidifying into a snowy ball. With this toy created, Dannyy swam up to the surface, beckoning Dorothy to continue.

“Fetch, girl!” he shouted and tossed the ice ball long. Dorothy chirped happily and dashed off to retrieve it.

Look who was having so much fun, hey Damian?

And sure, he could admit that seeing the Galapagos Islands would be pretty awesome, and he could hold it over Sam for potentially months. It cost way too much for him to ever afford going the normal way, and Danny wasn’t ever exactly looking to swim from Amity to here again.

No, no, no! He was getting tempted. No, bad Danny. Bad siren. Banish those bad thoughts away. Think about how cute Dorothy is instead. The whale calf had started swimming back to him, clumsily bouncing the ice ball on her nose. Danny lifted his tail a little and patted his lap like a human might beckon a dog and called her to him with a short whistle.

“Good girl! Try again now, fetch!” Danny tossed two ice balls this time. A couple of other whale calves had noticed what was going on, circling them with curiosity.

Danny dipped his head underwater, letting the air bubble out through his lips. “Hey Dami, you sure you don’t wanna play fetch with the whales?” he called out.

“Hmph,” Damian said, before turning away again. Sigh.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t see where Damian was coming from! All Damian wanted in going to Amity Park was to see marine life. It was Danny’s fault this all escalated into a whole fiasco.  A slightly more morbid, Sam-esque part of him wondered if this was the calm before the storm, if there was a chance one of them might not make it home. Why not enjoy themselves when they could?

Danny rolled some ice balls along his shoulder, before spinning in a circle and slapping them with his tailfin, sending them flying to the delight of the chasing baby whales.

But Damian had a dad! A dad who was super worried about him, enough to willingly spend a whole voyage with Danny’s parents, a feat of bravery very few people could attest to. Not even Danny, most of the time.

The thought of his parents dowered his mood. Phantom pains ached. He rubbed his chest, where his mum had…

Dorothy returned from wrestling with her friends, nudging the first ice ball back to him and chirping. He rubbed her nose gently. Dorothy nuzzled her side upon him, almost knocking him over.

Danny’s ear-fins flicked upward as a loud chirp came from above. He craned his head upward and gasped as a bird came flying westward overhead.

Birds… birds meant land. But they were hundreds of miles from the mainland, which meant…

Danny quickly dove down, meeting Damian and Colin on the back of Mama Whale, each of them looking much more satisfied than they had any right to be. “Did you convince the whales to swim to the Galapagos?” Danny accused Damian, shooting him a glare.

“I haven’t the faintest clue about that to which you refer, Daniel,” Damian spoke in a posh British accent.

“What he said,” Colin added. His arms were crossed and he had the absolute dumbest smirk, his eyes closed and nose upturned like a particularly satisfied cat after eating the canary. “We’ve just been sulking, bonding over the shared pain of having a total meanie for a travelling partner.

Damian shot Colin a split-second glare, before returning to his previous mask. “Who am I to make demands of our cetacean friends? Who says they can even understand complex linguistics in such a way that they can comprehend such a demand in the first place?”

Danny’s eye twitched.

~~

Brucie sat beside him on the bridge, a sea of stray papers and notebooks spread amongst them, filled with observations gathered from the Fenton Siren Spy Drone (or SSD)’s footage and audio. So far, they hadn’t been able to decipher out the siren language, but they drew numerous anatomical sketches, using high-quality footage they’d never been able to obtain before. Mads had started on a series of body language sketches with Jazzy’s help. Just because they resembled humans superficially in their facial structures didn’t mean their body language cues and facial expressions corresponded to those of humans.

And just as important were their behaviours. The sirens had lengthy conversations with each other, sometimes facing each other as humans would, other times circling each other like birds in the sky. Other times, they non-verbally communicate, such as when Phantom tapped Emerald with his tailfin, and Emerald scooched over to give room for Phantom to sit.

There were times when the clicks and whistles of their language went into an aggressive and fast higher gear, something Brucie suggested sounded like an argument. Their body language definitely indicated tension and stress. If that was true, it would be a major knock against his and Maddie’s initial hypothesis that sirens depended on a strength-based culture and settled disputes through physical altercations. Then again, they had a sample size of three sirens with no adults in sight. Whether this group was even typical for sirens was up in the air. What also muddled the waters was how Emerald seemed hostile to Orange, or at least prickly. The youngest siren frequently challenged the middle child, pouncing and biting at him, which Orange never seemed to take seriously. Phantom and Emerald had been travelling for a while, and Orange was a new addition to the group. What did this say about siren social dynamics?

Oh boy, all this thinking was starting to hurt his brain. The rhythmic thumping of his toes against the floorboards ceased as he pulled his arms up, unwinding the knots in his muscles.

“Any progress, Brucie?”

As much as Brucie liked to play up his goofiness for the public, the man was smart. He got into med school easily as a fresh college kid, before he dropped out, that was. Guess there was something about med school that stuck with you. You can take the scientist away the science, but you can’t take the science out of a scientist. Or something. Jack was pretty sure that was how the saying went.

“I have some guesses to where they’re going, but nothing concrete. You?”

Jack flicked the screen to one of the saved clips they had. “Nothing but hypotheses, Brucie-boy.”

The men settled into a comfortable, if not mournful silence. Jack’s toes quietly tapped against the floor, his fingers twisting a pen rapidly back and forth. His mind began to wander from their current findings. He reached to the console began digging back through the SSD’s footage.

His eyes settled on one clip. Something inside of him compelled him to open it.

The SSD had caught sight of the siren surfacing early in the morning, eyes squinting up at the sky. Celestial navigation, Jazzy had suggested. Maddie had dismissed the idea. Phantom didn’t have a sextant, and…

Jack remembered swallowing a lump in his throat. Maddie had pointed out how young Phantom was. That kind of skill required years of dedicated education to master.

Brucie then pointed out how ancient Polynesian Wayfinders navigated the ocean without modern tools, using celestial navigation just like Phantom. Suddenly, Jazzy’s hypothesis seemed to hold more water.

But those were just background thoughts to what was happening on screen. Jack’s gaze remained transfixed as Phantom held his webbed fingers out, gazing through the bones underneath transparent skin. There was a twinkle in the siren’s eye as he caught in the beauty of the stars, the gentle moonlight illuminating Phantom in turn in the dark ocean, an ethereal figure in a vast black sea.

The next clip was later in the day. Phantom had surfaced again, forming a ball of ice with his powers. The siren whistled to a baby whale. At first, the crew had been perplexed as to what Phantom was doing.

And then he tossed the ball, and the whale calf chased it like a dog playing fetch. A heavy lump grew in Jack’s throat, his eyes unable to tear themselves away from the wry smile, and the playful pride of Phantom as the baby whale nudged the ball of ice back. Take away the ocean environment, and you’d be set with a classic scene of a boy and his dog. Soon, more whales joined in the games, Phantom tossing more ice balls, even kicking some of them with his tailfin.

“Damian would’ve loved to be in Phantom’s position there,” Bruce muttered.

“So would Danny. That boy…” Jack huffed, voice aching with an echo of fondness for a boy he prayed was still out there. “Back when he was six or seven he learned about Laika the space dog, poor girl. Kid wouldn’t stop crying. Then the next day he picked up a stray off the street and begged us to let him keep it. Said that he was rescuing it from being sent to space and dying.”

Bruce chuckled, a deep, calming laugh that contrasted with Jack’s higher-pitched voice. “Did you?”

“Well, I wanted to! But Mads put her foot down and had him take it to the shelter. A shame, I thought we could’ve trained it to be a mighty rescue dog! We ended up getting a gold fish for him instead. Then Sam and Tucker accidentally killed it while having one of their arguments.”

Bruce winced. “Damian can be standoffish on the outside, but he has a big heart. Case in point, he can’t stop bringing animals home. Every week I catch him with some new wild animal he’s smuggled in from somewhere.”

“And there’s always another one?” Jack laughed.

“And there’s always another one. Damian’s got a pet dog, cat, turkey and a cow, to name a few. And that’s before we instated the pet limit.”

“We had to install a rocket limit after Jazz tripped on one walking into Danny’s room, at least until he learned to keep them safely. Danno looked like the world was gonna end.”

“Damian had no idea how to take care of a cow when we first got Batcow. And I see your face, yes, her name is Batcow. She was rescued by Batman from a slaughterhouse, has a brown spot over her eyes that looks like a bat. He tried milking her without any help – too much pride – and ended up making a huge mess instead.”

“I hope he didn’t try to drink it without pasteurising it first.”

“He did pasteurise it,” Bruce said. “Just not enough.”

Jack winced. He could practically feel his bowls shifting in sympathy.

“Damian’s always loved animals. They… don’t judge him the way others do, or at least that’s what I think. Only reason he agreed to come to Amity was to see the marine life.”

The mood turned somber again, both men staring at the clip, which Jack had put on loop. They looked at the way Phantom petted and encouraged the whale calves, imagining their boys in his place.

Truth be told, Jack didn’t even remember why Maddie didn’t want to adopt the dog, or why he backed down and agreed with her. But he did know this. The moment they got Danny back home safe, he was gonna get him whatever dog Danny wanted.

An alert came through the console. The SSD was running out of battery. It had to make a return trip quickly, or else it wouldn’t be able to make it.

“The whales have been taking them to the equator,” Brucie noted, the sentimentality having faded from his voice and replaced with business. “They’re on course to pass the Galapagos Islands.”

“There’s a lot of people who live there, not just finches and tortoises,” Jack said.

Not long ago, he would’ve immediately alerted the authorities and had them prepare for an imminent attack. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

He’d be lying to himself if he just said it was the GiW’s fiasco in Panama that made him uneasy.

Chapter Text

He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this.

Sure enough, there was a strong earthy smell in the water, tinged with the distinct scent of volcanic rock and of species unknown to him. Distant cries of penguins and dolphins filled the water, and his echolocation alerted him to huge masses of land just over the horizon. After a week of travel south from the Panama Canal, they had reached land again.

And since they were so close, eventually Colin and Damian wore him down. At last Danny threw his hands up and said, “Fine, but not for more than a day!” to which the younger boys cheered.

He’d tried to resist them. Danny had pointed out that touring the Islands meant parting with the whale pod. By the time they’d done all the things Damian and Colin wanted to do, the whales could be hundreds of miles west by that point. Admittedly it was a weak argument. Danny’s echolocation skills could easily locate the pod they’d grown fond of, and his speed would allow them to catch up easily.

There was also the fact that they weren’t even going westward anymore.

“Do you feel that?” Damian noted with an annoying degree of smugness. Now that he’d pointed it out, Danny’s fins registered a big drop in speed. He thumbed the harness that had been securing him to Mama Whale during the trip. The persistent pressure around it, its slight chafing around his scales had eased significantly. He turned to scan the waterscape. All around them the whales relaxed their tails and slowed down, some of them surfacing for air, most of them hanging close to the centre of the pod. “Some whales migrate through the Galapagos Islands, while others stay there year-round. It seems that this pod have reached their destination already. Unfortunately, we have no choice but to continue on our own tailfins, and what better place to get supplies than on land?”

Somehow, Danny felt like Damian knew all of that in advance and was just waiting to spring that onto him.

Truth be told, he couldn’t be that upset. When he was a kid, he wanted nothing more than to adopt this stray pup off the street in a childish attempt to save it from being sent to space like Laika did. And if he had been smart enough to figure out a way around Mom’s stupid excuse about the weapons around the house being too unsafe for a dog, he definitely would’ve used it!

So that was that. Part of him felt apprehensive about going near a human settlement after what happened in Panama, but he imagined it would be much easier to escape into the open ocean that it was to escape from Panama. Hopefully.

Danny swam low to the sea floor, approaching Damian from behind, his finger outstretched. Damian’s dorsal fin twitched suddenly, the only warning Danny got before the younger boy whirled back and grabbed his wrist before he could poke him.

“You look better. How do you feel?”

“Physically? I am restless, but I think I am mostly healed,” Damian said, absentmindedly rubbing a former sore sport from before. “I will miss our cetacean companions, though. I’ve grown used to having them around.”

It was then that Colin’s head peeked behind a nearby rock. “I’m sure we can say hi to them on the way back home. It’s not like they’re going anywhere.” The ginger boy pointed a thumb behind himself to the adolescents meandering around the water.

Damian huffed. “Well, yes, I knew that. If I remember correctly, we should be close to San Cristobal, home to the oldest settlement on the archipelago.”

“You mean Puerto Baquerizo Moreno? I have a couple human friends there!” Colin said. Danny took the opportunity to swim back to where he was packing up, relying on their new friend to occupy Damian.

“How can a siren have human friends?” Danny heard Damian saying.

“Hey, I have human friends!” He hollered at the green-scaled guppy.

“That does not count!”

“It’s easy to make human friends if you’re nice to them, and if they’re nice to you,” Colin went on. “You should try it, instead of biting everyone you meet.”

“Can they even understand you?”

“Of course! They probably won’t understand you guys though, unless you speak Spanish.”

“I can speak perfectly good Spanish,” Damian insisted. Danny scoffed, securing some shellfish and seaweed into the sack and making sure the camera inside was safe. “It is just that my vocal chords cannot produce human sounds at the moment.”

“Bummer.”

Danny heard Damian growl. He slung the backpack over his shoulder and swam between the two boys before Damian resorted to biting again. “I’m not so sure about going to a human town. I mean, I can turn human, but that leaves you two, and I don’t want a repeat of what happened in Panama.” He had to stop himself from laughing at the idea of stuffing both Colin and Damian into a backpack. With just Damian it was pretty practical, as the kid was small, but Colin was much bigger and couldn’t be easily hidden or carried without drawing a lot of attention.

“That’s ok, I’m a halfa too!”

Danny blinked. His jaw dropped.

Damian sputtered beside him.

“What?!”

~~

“Good morning, students,” Mr Lancer droned out in his standard monotone announcement, which was usually 20% more disinterested-sounding than his lecture voice. Sam was thankful for the extra 2 minutes of not-lesson time. There was no way she could make room for Shakespeare when her mind was buzzing with the words of someone far more presently important and relevant: Black Canary’s.

“Today we are welcoming an exchange student from Gotham City. Originally she was slated to begin at the start of the year. However, the disruptions due to the siren attacks have caused several delays, but thankfully she has arrived to begin her education here. Please, step up and introduce yourself.”

Sam blinked. While she’d been spacing out, a girl had appeared at the front of the classroom, wearing an off-putting red and green skirt with pretentiously gaudy ear rings and a slimy grin that set off all her “mean bitch” alarm bells. Instantly, Sam was not a fan.

“Hello, everyone!” oh, and that voice. It was hardly a New Jersey accent like from Gotham, but it certainly would’ve fit with the parasites that roamed that city’s upper echelons. Spiffy, polite only in technicality, and dripping with condescension. “My name’s Penny, Penny Spencer and I’m super excited to make friends with all of you! At first I was super scared of studying here, despite the world class marine biology programme. The idea of being on an island surrounded by so many… gugh… sirens is petrifying to me. However, education waits for nobody, and I couldn’t just put my life on hold for some fish monsters.”

The class murmured in agreement and half-whispered comments. Sam personally had enough of this girl already. A Paulina clone whose words were as much of a performance as they were a manipulation. No thanks.

Her mind went back to Black Canary’s words last night. Then it went to darker places. What if the unthinkable happened, and Danny couldn’t come home. Even if he survived the journey he was on, what if something happened that meant he couldn’t return. Maybe the GiW would track him going back to Amity. Maybe the Justice League would arrest him, listen to the GiW and throw him into a fish tank to rot.

With Valerie acting the way she was, it would be up to Sam and Tucker to defend keep both humans and sirens safe, for however long it would take.

And maybe, Black Canary too.

She absentmindedly doodled something on her notebook, not watching where she was drawing, eyes instead gazing half-lidded at Penny Spencer’s general direction as she eagerly took an empty seat beside Valerie, the two already chatting and giggling to one another. It was the happiest she’d seen Valerie in weeks.

~~

“What do you mean you’re a halfa?!” Danny sputtered as he and Damian swam after Colin. The ginger boy swam a little circle around Mama Whale’s head, patting her gently as a goodbye.

“I mean I’m a halfa, too. Didn’t I say it earlier?”

“No!” Damian exclaimed. “You said nothing of the sort.”

“Huh, I guess I must’ve forgot.” Colin shrugged. “Oh well, we need to go now Mama Whale, we’ll try and see you again soon.”

Mama Whale crooned a loving note. Danny waved to her as well, before turning his attention back to Colin. “But how? That’s… that’s impossible. I mean, I thought there were only two in the world!”

“I guess that makes us three now, huh?”

“I do not understand,” Damian interrupted. “From what I understand of previous attacks in Amity Island, some sirens can take on a human form. Who is to say you are simply not one of those, instead of a halfa like Danny?”

“Well, those are all adults. Guppies like us normally can’t shift until we’re older, and even the big kids back home don’t look human even when they have legs.”

“And you do? You assume a perfect human form on land?”

Danny felt a heavy weight nudge his side, finding one of the calves nudging him and squeaking, while Dorothy bumped Damian’s side.

“Yep, pretty much!” Colin said. “I’ve pretty much always been able to do it. I can even shift in the water! Wanna see?”

Danny shook his head rapidly. “Let’s try not to drown ourselves? And besides, does that mean you’ve been sneaking onto land as a human? Don’t you know how dangerous that could be?!”

“Relaaaxx. I’ve never been caught, by a human or a siren. Anyway, race you to Playa Oliviana!”

Colin turned tail and zipped off at an impressive speed, despite his own luggage strapped to his tail. Damian scoffed and bolted after him, leaving Danny in their bubbly wake. “Hey! We’re supposed to stick together!” he shouted, before giving chase as well.

Beaming sunlight shone down upon the rock, filled to the brim with corals and stray seaweed peeking out of the gravelly sea floor. The colours blurred into smudged-over pastel colours shifting swaying left to right in tandem with Danny’s swimming. Green, gold and red glinted from Damian and Colin’s fins up ahead. He could swim much faster if he wanted, but so close to shore it was a bad idea, unless he wanted to face plant into a rock. The smell of land grew stronger in his nose. The sea floor crept higher and higher.

Suddenly, he found Damian and Colin’s silhouettes approaching rapidly, or rather they had stopped and he was the one on a collision course! Danny fanned out his fins like a parachute and beat his muscles against the water as he came to a tumbling stop.

“Hey, what gives?”

“Sshh!” Damian whispered, slapping a tiny hand over Danny’s mouth. With his other hand he pointed to a shadow just up ahead, tinging the water with a faint metallic scent with its rounded hull and propellers. A boat.

A tourist boat, if the camera flashes and English-sounding chatter were any indication.

“What a drag,” Colin muttered. “We can’t show ourselves on the beach without becoming part of the ‘attraction.’ And there’s no way I’m shifting with those humans around.”

A small plop could be heard. It was a plastic cup, complete with a bag and straw. It was one of several floating pieces of plastic in the water, each of them pristine and lacking the tarnish of dirt. Before Danny could mentally process it, he felt a whoosh from his side while his vision flashed with green. “Stay here,” he told Colin as he surfaced invisibly.

Damian’s head floated above the water, the smallest siren’s ear fins flared out with irritation. Danny’s gaze drifted up to the gasping crowd of tourists. His fins twitched rapidly with his rising panic. One of them held a phone up to take a picture, but Damian’s arm was faster, launching the plastic cup like a bullet. The water-laden litter crashed into the large man with the camera, exploding like a water balloon from the sheer force with which it was thrown and soaking him, his phone and the surrounding people

“Take back your rubbish you filthy miscreants or else I should like to give you a one-on-one diving lesson to the Mariana Trench!” Damian yelled furiously.

Not like they could understand him, what with the threats being made entirely in siren-speak.

Instead of screaming, one of the tourist ladies cooed. “Awe, he’s so adorable, look at him!”

Danny blinked. Damian blinked as well.

Back on Amity Island, the appearance of a siren would have aroused panic in anyone who wasn’t a siren hunter. Just a fin flashing above the surface would have caused beaches to clear out. Even Atlanteans, people also of the sea, didn’t like seeing sirens anywhere near their homes.

“What is he? Some kind of overgrown fish?”

“I think he’s one of those sirens that’ve been making the news.”

“Where are his parents, do you think?”

Damian’s face flushed, eyes furrowing with indignation. He never really took being treated as a cute little kid well – even if he was a cute little kid – and he could practically see the rage bubbling underneath.

“Maybe he’s playing?” said a teenager in the back. “Try throwing something else in.”

Yikes.

Danny quickly swam to Damian, still under the guise of camouflage. “Damian,” he whispered. “I think we should get out of here, now. We’ve already been seen, let’s not–”

He was interrupted by a mop of red hair popping up from the water. Colin’s cheeks bulged and his chest was puffed up. Before Danny could question what the boy was doing, he spat a high pressure burst of water at one of the tourists, knocking them over and soaking the rest of them.

Then a second stream of water joined Colin’s, as Damian sprayed them even further. Colin’s attack ceased as his lungs emptied, and he shouted out, “that’s what you get for littering, jerks!” at the tourists as they scrambled for cover, screaming in distress.

The deck was left empty, with just the sirens in the water. Danny grabbed both boys’ hands and pulled them under.

“What were you thinking?!” Danny admonished.

“Those people were spoiling a protected area! I ought to have given them a good gouging for their crimes!”

“Yeah!” Colin joined in. “They got what they deserved!”

“But what about us?” Danny countered. “What’s gonna happen when the GiW catches wind of some tourists getting attacked by a couple feral sirens near the Galapagos Islands?”

Instantly, Damian went still. The tour boat’s engines rumbled distantly as it made its exit away from the area. Colin’s eyes flicked between them rapidly, his fins nudging him back by an inch. “Wait, who are the GiW? Are you guys being chased??”

“They are American idiots whose mission it is to eradicate siren kind. They are the entire reason we are on this journey in the first place. They are zealots who act without reason or humanity.” Damian hunched in on himself, scowling. Whether it was at himself or the hunters in question, Danny didn’t know.

“It’s a long story, but they’re probably monitoring any mentions or sightings of us. With any luck, those tourists will’ve tipped them off that we’re here.” At the flex of Colin’s tail, Danny held his hands up, placatingly. “Don’t worry. I’ve beaten them before. I can beat them again.”

“They almost surrounded us in Panama with an army. I was a liability then.” Damian’s face darkened. “And I have lead them to us again.”

Danny grasped the kid’s shoulders. “That wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like it’s a guarantee that they’ll come?”

Damian kept his eyes locked on Danny’s, his mouth remaining in that self-hating scowl, which Danny frankly didn’t need to realise how weak his argument sounded, even to himself.

Suddenly, Colin was behind Damian. The middle siren kid wrapped his arms around Damian in an embrace from behind, causing the youngest to squeak indignantly. “Hey, it’s no big deal! We all get a little impulsive sometimes, especially when we’re mad. Moon knows how bad I get when I hulk out, heh. And I mean, it’s pretty cool how passionate you are about animals and litter and stuff. Most other siren kids I know would’ve run away from those humans.”

Damian’s faced blushed bright gold that he forced his ear fins down to try and hide.

“You’re right,” Danny added. “You know, my friend Sam totally would’ve done the same thing, and she’s the coolest person I know.”

Damian continued to blush, chirping with displeasure. He squirmed his way out of Colin’s grip, huffing. “It does not change the fact that I exposed us to danger again. I resolved to stop being a burden for you. I failed.”

“If they come, we can fight them,” Colin said, punching his fist.

Danny rapidly shook his head, mouth agape with horror. “No, no, I’m going to fight them. You guys are going to hang back where it’s safe. Besides, they got the jump on us in Panama and we had to get out into the water, and we still got the best of them. Out here, the water’s our element. We’ll hear them coming and sense them with our lateral lines miles in advance.”

“And then we’ll beat the snot out of them together!” Colin said, having not listened to the part where Danny said he was going to do it alone at all.

“What did I just say?” Danny put his hands on his hips, trying to channel the best Jazz impression he could manage. “These are siren hunters and you’ve never fought them before.”

“But I have fought Los Zetáceos before. I can take care of myself,” Colin challenged, puffing up his chest and swimming up higher to meet Danny’s eye level.

“What do we do now then?” Damian pressed.

“I say we just continue our doing what we were doing.”

Danny’s shock froze his fins, knocking him off balance as the gentle current tilted his body. He quickly righted himself. “What?!”

“I mean, if they’re coming, they’re coming, right? We don’t even know if those tourists are gonna call them, and even if they do, I know these parts. We’ll have the home field advantage. Plus, you guys haven’t even seen any of the tortoises! Why let a bunch of dumb humans ruin our fun?”

“While they remain a threat at large,” Damian mused. “They are incompetent enough that remaining vigilante will give us a sizeable advantage. If we explore these islands, we will have the advantage of knowing the terrain, and I still wish to photograph the local wildlife.”

“Hey, isn’t that what I just said?”

“I came up with it first!”

“But I said it first~”

“You do not get to compensate for my mistakes.”

“Who said anything about compensation??”

Danny sighed, and flicked his tail to the shore and thoroughly ditching the other two boys while they bickered. The beach stretched out with golden sand and tiny pebbles with a thick row of swaying trees bordering it from the rest of the island. His head surfaced as the water turned shallower and shallower. His tail no longer able to move, he called on his transformation, scales sinking into his milky skin and bones snapping into two rigid limbs again.

He took a deep breath of fresh air. When was the last time he’d been human and not in peril? And while another threat still loomed, part of him felt ready for whatever might be coming, now there was nothing between him and Damian, now that they’ve met a new friend and ally.

“Hey guys!” he hollered. “I think I smell some tortoises over there. If you’re not fast enough, I’m gonna get to them first and eat them!”

Damian’s head popped out of the water, playfully enraged.

Well, Danny hoped it was playful.

“Prepare yourself, Fenton!” Damian shouted as he launched himself out of the water like a missile.

Chapter Text

“Do you think they’re staring at us?”

“¿La plena?” Colin said, pausing mid-bite of his corviche, a kind of fritter with fish and nuts. Didn’t plena mean something like full in Spanish or something? Danny was probably wrong anyway, seeing as The Full didn’t make any sense whatsoever.

“Oh, right. Ahem,” Colin coughed. “Seriously?”

“Well, yeah,” Danny said, glancing surreptitiously at the old ladies on the street who were definitely staring at them just now. “Do you think they know we’re… you know? Do you think they’re GiW agents?”

“Ay, ñaño, relax. Do you think those bozos are smart enough to try disguises?”

Well, on the one hand they were certainly too dumb to try a tactic like that. On the other hand, Danny mused, they might be dumb enough to try start a fight in front of all these witnesses a second time. Then again, they still don’t know what his human form looked like…

“Why do you think they’re looking at us?” Danny whispered again.

“Duh. You’re a gringo,” Colin said, shrugging freckled shoulders, and rolling the r in perfect Spanish form. “And a really stinky-looking one.”

Danny pouted, but hid it by biting into another corviche. “Don’t diss the dumpster fashion till you try it. You’d prefer I walk around here naked?”

While Colin frequented these islands and had a small stash of clothes to change into and avoid suspicion from the locals, Danny had had no such luck, and had to resort to what Damian had started referring to as ‘dumpster fashion.’

Danny blinked as he realised something. “Also, aren’t you a gringo too? You’re a redhead, and whiter than me!”

Colin grinned toothily. “Well, that doesn’t count, cause gringo’s a human term, and I’m a siren that sprouts legs sometimes. Also, I can actually speak Spanish. They call me Colito. I know basically everyone round here, basically since I could sprout legs. Those two ladies gossiping about you, they’re Abuela Alma and Abuela Elena.” The younger siren boy leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially. “They think you’re a trafficking victim.”

“Not that far off, considering what Skulker’s whole deal,” Danny muttered. “How are we gonna pay for all this anyway?” he asked, casting a glance at the vendor, a portly man with a thick moustache and even thicker hands working away at the fryer.

“Perhaps our travelling companion intends to perform a dine and dash?” came Damian’s voice from the baby stroller parked next to the table. In hindsight, the random baby stroller

“Is that what you guys did to the Atlanteans?” Colin asked curiously.

“It was more like a raid,” Danny said.

“They brought it upon themselves,” Damian chirped poutingly.

“Sshh! Babies don’t chirp!” Danny told him.

“Please put your hand in here and I will show you a lot more things babies cannot do.” No thanks, Danny liked having all ten fingers, even if he could grow any back that Damian may or may not be intending to bite off.

“So, how are we gonna pay for this?”

“Oh, nothing. Ricardo owes me for the mussels I got him last week.”

“Do the locals know you are a siren?” Damian asked suspiciously.

“Not really. They just think of me as the weird kid that shows up every now and then and then disappears. You know how it is. I’ve watched enough H2O to know to keep the fishy side a secret.”

“And you’re discussing it out in the open?” Damian asked.

Colin waved him off. “Rrrrelax,” the kid said with a long trilled R. “They can’t understand us, just like you guys can’t understand them.”

“I am perfectly competent in Spanish, thank you very much.”

“You’re not competent in any language, wawa, ‘cuz babies can’t talk. Now shush.”

“I will get my revenge,” Damian hissed.

After lunch, Danny took the baby stroller and Colin led them on a little tour of Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, capital of the Galapagos Province the only town on San Cristobal island, the one they’d landed on. With the Galapagos being mostly a national park, the city – really a town – was hardly dense with urban population. The streets were wide and flanked by pavements filled with bright orange and red tiles that sometimes spilled onto the roads themselves, older ones before the newer asphalt roads came in. The buildings had walls in bright reds, oranges and blues, and there were rooftops painted with lime green paint. While they ran into the occasional tourist, mostly they met the occasional local, who would call out to Colin with greetings of “¡Hola Colito!” and “¡Ey, wawa pescado!”

Danny did recognise that last word. “Didn’t you say they didn’t know you were a siren?” he said. His fins would be standing straight if he had them right now.

“Chuta. I forgot about that. It’s just a nickname, since I barter with fish instead of money sometimes. I’ve always been what they call chiro, as in totally broke.”

He pulled the pockets of his dry swimming trunks inside out as a point of emphasis. Danny raised an eyebrow. “Did you barter for those clothes too?” It was a bit strange to wrap his head around Colin trading a grouper for a pair of jeans.

“No, I ‘borrowed’ them from some tourists. You know how it goes.”

“Riiiight…” Danny drawled with utmost scepticism. In his opinion, dumpster fashion still topped out Grand Theft Fashion, but he wasn’t Paulina.

As they walked, Colin made a point to chat up any locals they came across, asking them about any men in white suits, or Los Tipos de Blanco, only to meet shaking heads. Colin would then get back to him and Damian and shrug. “See? Ain’t no gringos in gaudy outfits round this island.”

Danny wasn’t too convinced, considering it had only been a few hours, and they could still be mobilising, but Colin’s optimism did make him feel a lot better.

And Puerto was just nice to walk around in, taking pictures of Colin, himself and his ‘baby brother.’ It felt like every building could be its own destination for a journey, not like big American cities that radiated that oppressive greyness. For a halfa with no money and no transport to speak of, strolling around town with a ‘baby’ in tow felt relaxing. And despite Damian’s indignation at having to hide in this way, on account of his inability to gain legs or lose the distinctly in-human shade of green his scales carried, it was clear that the kid was having fun too.

~~

An excerpt from an article:

WHAT ARE SIRENS?

Clark Kent

This elusive species made international headlines after the disappearance of Damian Wayne, allegedly killed by sirens, and then made further headlines as the government agency known as the GiW entered Panama in search of one, causing chaos and destruction. But long before these incidents occurred, one town in particular has been the target of multiple attacks. The GiW’s mission statement is the capture, containment and study of these creatures. The GiW, in addition to siren experts Drs Jack and Maddie Fenton, claim that sirens are non-sentient and exceptionally dangerous.

This reporter questions the validity of these statements. How can we claim to understand a species of which less than one hundred individuals have been observed? I spoke to Nobel Prize-winning Zoologist Dr Amy Hickens for a second opinion.

An excerpt from an article:

PANAMIANIAN GOVERNMENT DEMANDS REPARATIONS FOR GIW’S ACTIONS, PRESIDENT REFUSES TO PAY UP

Lois Lane

Since the incident, numerous videos on social media have been posted, depicting agents in white suits interrogating locals, despite the clear lack of any fish tails or seashell bras. In some of these videos, the agents turn confrontational and aggressive to the locals in question. The Panamanian government is demanding compensation not only for the trouble caused to these civilians, but also the lost revenue from closing the Panama Canal for four hours.

Panama is not the only country to have been affected by this situation, as numerous companies and countries suffered delays in shipping due to the closure.

With all this fallout, one begins to think about the GiW’s original reason for entering the country in the first place. GiW Director Agent Alpha asserts “The investigation of Panama was an essential step in removing the threat of Phantom from Amity Island and by extension the world. Creatures such as these are driven by patterns, habit and instinct. Though driven away from Amity, it’s only a matter of time before it will claim another coastal town. We must stop it and bring it in for study, for the good of mankind.”

The good of mankind seems a noble goal, but the means to supposedly bring can rarely be described the same way.

For nearly a year, Phantom roamed the waters around Amity Island, displaying little aggression towards humans, but fighting off other sirens, many of whom have been much more dangerous. Much information has been said by authority figures and supposed experts about sirens and Phantom in particular, but no siren has been captured long-term before, and are the violent confrontations a pattern amongst the species, or are they outliers for a species that would rather be alone?

One must remember the ill-deserved reputation of the shark, a vital part of many ocean ecosystems maligned as vicious predators by humans who have done nothing but pollute their homes.

~~

OLIVER QUEEN DENOUNCES GIW’S ACTIONS

WAYNE ENTERPRISES CEO CALLS ON PRESIDENT TO PAY UP

SIREN RIGHTS PROTESTORS GATHER IN METROPOLIS

ANGRY SIREN CHILD GOES VIRAL

Paulina tap-tap-tapped away on her phone, her programme having pinged her for an alert about sirens! Oh, would that she could lay eyes upon her darling Phantom once more. She opened her TikTok and found the video immediately.

Only, it wasn’t Phantom! The video was shaking, taking from someone on a boat somewhere nice and tropical. The camera was pointing at something a plastic cup, someone saying that “it” threw the cup, and what “it” was became apparent as the camerawoman zoomed in revealing a–

Paulina paused the video, her heart jumping as she let out a high-pitched squeal.

Energy expelled, she returned to the video. Oh!

Oh dios mio, it was so adorable!!!!!!! There was just the tiniest, most adorable little siren baby child with adorable little ear fins and shiny green scales. Oh! And their sweet little face was all scrunched up and pouting in the cutest possible way as they chirped out a little storm at the humans! Oh! Mi corazón!

Then, some teen said something about throwing more trash in, the little pendejo, only for the little siren baby to spit out a stream of water, soaking some of the onlookers. Then, a second siren appeared, this one in fiery orange and red. The bigger siren boy’s cheeks were puffed up, and then he spat another stream of water, so strong it knocked over the man standing next to the camera woman.

The video ended there, but Paulina could’ve sworn she saw a white tuff of hair just beneath the surface…

Her heart was soaring as she reposted the video to her Instagram, tagging most everyone she knew.

Chapter Text

Colin’s tour brought them at last to the Malecón San Cristobal, where they walked over warm red tiles and watched the sea, letting the gentle breeze wrap around them. Right beside them was la playa de los lobos, where sea lions came onto the sand and barked, playing in the surf and splashing in the water mere meters away from human onlookers.

From the squirming in the pram, he knew it was killing Damian to have to stay hidden. He patted the boy on the head, making sure to smooth over his ear fins, and told him they’d see the sea lions at night and from the water, free of any onlookers.

From there they went to their accommodation for the night. His lack of shoes, dirty clothes and abject brokenness meant that a hotel room was a little out of reach… the normal way.

“Sshh,” Danny told Colin, though he couldn’t see him. The other halfa held Danny’s right hand, while his left carried Damian, the youngest siren’s tail curled up tight around Danny’s arm so it wouldn’t swing around and cause noise. The three of them “checked into” their hotel room as they silently snuck past reception, Damian’s keen eyes having gleamed the room availability earlier by peeking over the receptionist’s shoulder.

They crept through empty hallways, with Danny still keeping the veil of his powers over them until at last they reached their hotel room. It was on a low floor occupied by only two other guests on the far side of the building. The door looked pristine and expensive, and it came with a shiny electric lock underneath the door handle.

“Chuta. I guess your plan to lockpick the door wasn’t gonna work out, Dami.”

Damian bristled, jostling himself in Danny’s arm.  “Do you have a better suggestion?”

“Well, I could stab the doorknob, or we could climb in through the window?”

“’Cause that’s the first thing people think of when they think about a siren’s powers. Climbing buildings. I can’t climb with or without legs, and there’s no way Damian can,” Danny snarked.

“Actually I scanned the building and scaling it should not prove much of a challenge,” Damian interrupted, lifting his finger up along with his fins.

“And just ‘cause you can’t climb doesn’t mean I can, mi llave. ¡Verás!” Colin said, marching off to the window at the end of the corridor.

“That will be unnecessary,” Damian clicked perhaps a little more quickly than usual. Colin stopped and turned around, an eyebrow raised quizzically. “Observe. Danny, put me down.”

Danny did so, placing Damian on the carpet floor, chuckling quietly as Damian’s mucus immediately caused a wet spot on the expensive fabric. Damian wiggled over to the side so that he was right in front of the gap between the door and its frame. He readied himself, body laying low and tail wiggling and fins folded flat.

Then, he leapt, and it happened so fast that Danny almost couldn’t believe it. Damian’s body seemed to bend and warp, and suddenly all that was outside the door was the kid’s tail, wiggling fiercely, until that too disappeared through the crack.

Five seconds later, the door handle turned, and the door slowly swung open, revealing Damian in all his glory, gripping the handle, having opened it from the other side. It took all Danny had not to laugh though, because the handle was so high up that Damian’s body was dangling from it like a strung-up tuna, the bluish tinge in his face combined with his pouting from the exertion only adding to the image.

Colin it seemed, could not hold in a giggle, for which Damian glared at him.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Danny asked instead, turning his attention away from the humorous sight as he and Colin entered the room. For its boasted five stars, the hotel room itself seemed rather modest, though it was certainly spacious even after accounting for the large king sized bed in the adjacent room. The window gave them a view of the sea, that place they had been trawling through for weeks, now rendered as small, framed between trees and other buildings.

“It was a power I seemed to develop while in captivity by Skulker. I used it to escape the gilded cage in which he had placed me, though I was unable to make further progress. It seems I am able to break down the solid structures within my body, allowing me to pass through narrow gaps.”

“Cool!” Colin chirped in siren, leaping onto the bed and spreading himself out like a sea star, groaning blissfully. “Still prefer sea sponge, but this is good enough. I’ve been swimming for days, man.”

“Tt,” Damian tutted, poking his head out of the water. “Danny and I have been swimming for weeks, and on many nights we only had a cold cave for shelter, or none at all.”

Colin winced. “That’s rough, wawa. It’s a good thing you’re here now!”

Danny shook his head. He was getting way too old for this crap. “I’m dying for a shower now, Damian, so I’d better come back to both of you guys being alive.”

He walked to the bathroom door, then swiftly turned around to shoot a glare at Damian. The green guppy was looking very intentionally nonchalant, his fins lowered to a relax position as the hot tub filled up with warm water. Hm…

Well, whatever Damian was planning, it was the problem of the Danny of ten minutes from now. The call of a hot shower after so long drew him forward like a siren’s song. The bathroom was fully stocked with shower products that dripped onto his hands like liquid gold.

Oh, this was going to be the best bath he’d had in years.

~~

Damian’s nice warm rest was interrupted by the click of a remote, as Colin switched on the news. He spotted a plume of red hair in front of him, the other boy having relocated to sitting by the hot tub, though he remained outside of it and dry. What business did a siren have watching TV? His annoyance was outweighed by his curiosity

“¡Ay, Bacán! They’ve got ABC here! Wawa, come check it out!”

The news channel was currently playing some kind of segment about the economy, something infinitely less interesting than the motives for the other siren in the room to watch such a thing.

“I do not understand,” Damian spoke diplomatically.

“It’s a thing humans have. So those people there are sitting somewhere on land, and they have these special machines that let you see and hear what they’re talking about. But honestly it’s mostly boring stuff. What the heck is a foro wunkay?¡Qué huevada!”

“I am aware of what a TV is,” Damian deadpanned. “But what does a siren have to gain from watching humans squabble over current affairs?”

“Oh, that’s not what we’re here for.” Colin flicked away from ABC and onto another news channel, then another, until reaching the Daily Star, a Metropolis based organisation nowhere near as reputable as the Planet. But it was at that point that the younger halfa’s face split into a sharp-toothed grin. “There we go! ¡Mira, mira!”

It soon became obvious what the other boy was looking for, as Superman’s shining figure filled the screen. The news anchor recounted Superman’s latest daring rescue of a cat from altitudinous arboreal ardour, a rather rote and mundane misadventure for the Man of Steel, but Colin listened attentively like a student of Aristotle. Hm… bad metaphor, Damian thought. That man’s students left behind the most terrible of lecture notes.

“Aren’t they so cool?” the other boy whispered. “I have a whole collection of Superman merch back home, and Batman stuff, even a couple Robin masks. Punching bad guys, saving the day…”

“You are a fan of Robin?” Damian asked, maintaining careful control over his fins, lest his body language betray his interest.

“¡De una! Wait, you know about him too?”

Drat. Damian considered his next words, and what they would reveal. Well, if this boy was interested in superhero news and Phantom in particular, it would not require much of a leap to find out about his missing status, and then to surmise that Damian the siren and Damian Wayne were one and the same. He lowered his chin to the rim of the hot tub beside Colin. “I was a human before I gained this form. Phantom saved me. But before that, I lived near where Robin and Batman plied their trade.”

Colin tore his eyes away from Superman’s sweeping flight to face Damian, his eyes wide. “You lived in Gotham?! Wait you were a…”

Red eyes drifted to the side, where Damian’s sail poked out of the water. Damian gripped the rim and pushed his tail back under. “I do not need your pity. It was either this or the void. Phantom saved me at great personal risk, and we will work together so that I may regain my human form.”

“Right…” Colin fidgeted with his fingers, shifting in his seat. “So what’s it like living in Gotham?”

Damian’s chest felt a little lighter at the change in topic. “It is dark, and miserable, and infested with evil. But it is better than it used to be. Batman and Robin carved out havens and safety over the course of years, reclaiming the city from the hands of criminals one by one, whether they wore balaclavas or gleaming suits.”

His audience of one had his mouth hanging open, eyes star struck.

“Hmph. As for you? What do you like so much about Robin? Certainly you mean his predecessors?”

“¡Mentiras! Sure the other ones were coolazo too, but they’re not my Robin, you know? The other Robins were a long time ago, but this one? He’s probably swinging from the skylines as we speak, swinging that awesome sword of his. And he’s doing all of that while being my age? If he and Phantom can do it, why can’t I?”

Damian lowered his head. The other boy’s words brought out distracting warmth in his cheeks. Meanwhile, Colin’s eyes drifted to the bathroom.

The bathroom shook slightly as coughing came from within, mixed with high-pitched dolphin noises.

“Should we check in on him?” Colin asked.

“What for? In case he’s drowning?”

The younger halfa laughed, snorting loudly with the faintest hint of a chitter in the back of his throat. Once he was done, he leaned his head back until it was lying on the edge of the tub, looking at Damian. Strands of hair fell near the water, turning a shade lighter in orange.

“You know, all of the other superheroes, they belong to the humans. They might be aliens from outer space, or metas, or robots, but they’ve got legs, they live on land with humans and they protect humans. Nobody wants to protect sirens. And sirens don’t really like humans either. But Phantom? He didn’t have to save us from Aragon. He coulda gotten his mate and swam back home. But he stayed and fought for us. Isn’t that amazing?”

Damian bristled slightly. This notion of Danny having a paramour was certainly news to him, but he pushed it down in favour of considering the boy in front of him.

Sirens were powerful, and Phantom a powerful force in his own right. It would not be a stretch to think that this second halfa bore the same strength. As much as he wanted to dismiss it, his claims of fighting off mafia members and Atlanteans may very well be true.

Damian’s foolishness took him out for a week, becoming a burden to his friend. That he could speak Spanish was useless with his vocal chords unable to produce the sounds, and his inability to shift meant he had to sit uselessly in a pram while the halfas did all the hard work.

He didn’t know what he’d do if he became useless in a fight too.

“It is amazing,” Damian said. “I owe a lot to him.”

“So do I, wawa, so do I.”

The sentence made Damian feel all kinds of conflict he couldn’t understand. Was this companionship? With his rival? Preposterous! Damian crossed his arms and put on his meanest scowl.

His face got tired after five minutes. Colin wasn’t even facing him, having returned to watching the TV.

Damian’s ear fins flicked up as the door opened, Danny emerging from the bathroom smelling fresher than he had before this voyage started, his hair unevenly splotched with white spots where it was still damp, and little patches of scales dotted around his arms and peeking out from his shirt sleeves.

“That was the best bath I’ve had in my whole life, even if I breathed in some soapy water.”

Damian couldn’t believe he was travelling with this gormless fool.

But he was his gormless fool.

“Heya! We were just watching TV. You just missed Superman, but I think Wonder Woman’s got an interview coming up soon,” Colin said.

“No thanks. You probably need a bath too. When was the last time you cleaned yourself?”

Colin suddenly looked a lot more uncomfortable. “Er… yesterday?”

Danny sniffed the air. “I could smell your stink lines all the way from the bathroom. Come on. Get!”

The teen swooped in and started nudging the Colin aggressively, with repeated pats and taps to his side. Eventually Colin relented, sticking his tongue out at Danny while retreating.

“You’re going next, Damian,” Danny said pointedly. Unlike Colin, Damian had the grace and sense of hygiene to agree.

“Why did you send him off first?”

The oldest boy among them shrugged. “Well, I figured it would be best for you to be here now, unless you wanna wait to get yourself clean.”

Danny’s gaze turned to attached bedroom, at the little nightstand posted beside the bed.

The phone.

“You intend to contact our loved ones.”

“I’ve memorised Sam and Tucker’s phone numbers, and the SAV’s. We can try calling your dad again. Or maybe your brothers back in Gotham! If you have any other family, we can try and call them too. I know it didn’t go well the last time, but I can do better now, I swear.”

Ah, the ‘reasonable’ option as Danny might put it, if Damian asked him. From the beginning, their stated goal was to return Damian to his family, so it made sense that Danny would take the option that furthered that goal. Unfortunately, this gormless fool was also a gormless self-sacrificing fool. To expedite the end of this adventure would be of great personal benefit to Damian, but would come at the cost of Danny’s.

Damian remembered the pain Danny was in after his own parents captured him like an unusual tuna. He remembered the hopelessness on the teenager’s expression, echoing pain and hardship familiar to Damian, having seen it on himself, and in the expressions of civilians in the clutches of wicked men.

The phone was in Danny’s hands, his finger already on the dial.

“You shall do no such thing.”

Danny flinched and stared at Damian with abject confusion. The distant roar of a departing airplane filtered through the closed window. “What do you mean? Damian, this is what we’ve been working for. We can explain everything, what happened to you, where you are, that you’re safe.”

Damian shook his head. “This line is not secure. My father has countless enemies, being wealthy and of a kind heart. While his phone and the Manor’s phones are well-protected, this one is not. Contact him, and we risk any number of unwanted listeners.”

Danny shifted uncomfortable, reeling at the implications. Damian pressed the attack. “Sirens are powerful beings. Having only been one for a scant few weeks, I have already begun to develop supernatural abilities, not to mention the plethora that you possess. No normal sea creature could swim to Mexico in three days. If the wrong person learns that an ordinary human child can become one, well…”

Damian did not delight in the stricken look he gave to his friend, but for Danny’s welfare, he had to do it. “They’d be kidnaping kids and sirens all over the world.”

“Exactly. Something similar happened when metahumans first emerging worldwide. The Justice League has since done away with metahumans trafficking, for the most part. However, in the early days, several organisations attempted to induce superpowers in teenagers, either those with dormant metagenes, or those without. Those experiments were gruesome, and failed frequently.”

“But turning works every time…” Danny was pale.

“It is paramount then that we maintain radio silence, at least in regards to my current state of being.”

“But you’ve been separated from your family for so long!”

“I’ve been worse. You know I am an independent person. And… this journey has not been all bad. What I told you whilst we were travelling with the whales. I still stand by it. The places we have been to, the foes we conquered, and the dangers we slipped through, and the wondrous creatures we’ve encountered along the way. The children of the wealthy, such as I, are often sheltered, and rarely experience the world outside their own illustrious mansions.”

With intention, Damian flapped his ear fins so that they covered his cheeks, feigning bashfulness.

“I… would not mind that this adventure continues a little longer, especially if it means protecting the children and sirens of the world.”

His friend sighed, and Damian knew he had won. Danny sat down beside him, resting his chin on his arms, his expression tired. “You’re right, as much as I hate to admit it. I’m guessing you have a reason why we can’t board the next flight out of here?”

“It would take at least ten hours to fly to Gotham. Stowing away in the baggage compartments is suicidal. Hiding in the cabin would get us caught. If you alone were flying, and you were detected, it would be relatively inconsequential, but my presence would not be as easily explained away.”

“We could say you’re really dedicated to cosplaying a merman, and glued hundreds of green scales onto your body, and wear a tail costume at all times.”

“You are very humorous,” Damian said flatly.

His eyes drooped. He blinked a few times, shaking his head slightly. Danny dipped his head, shuffled toward the hot tub and rubbed Damian’s hair. Damian didn’t fight the pleased trill he gave.

“You want me to join you in the hot tub? I could get some blankets. I’m sure the hotel won’t mind them getting a little soaked.”

“Tt. You would relinquish the luxury of a dry bed for me? You must be exhausted.”

“I am.” Danny stretched his arms back and yawned. “But you’ve gotta be even more tired, right?”

Damian blushed. Did he truly fail at hiding his tiredness so badly? “We will need your legs in case the hotel staff show up and we need to make a hasty getaway.”

Danny hummed, leaning his cheek on the tub. “Or, maybe we could wrap you in some wet towels and you can sleep on the bed too! Beats sleeping on a moving whale, right?”

“The damp spot would not discomfort you?”

“Damian, you think a little water’s gonna bother me at this point?” Danny laughed.

Damian lowered his face behind the tub and pouted.