Chapter Text
Living in Gotham was… alright?
Danny will admit, he misses the familiarity of Amity. He knows it isn’t safe for him anymore, and getting out was the only way to keep himself from being dissected and all that, but still.
Gotham wasn't awful, no matter what outsiders said.
Jazz worked in Gotham, and she went to college there too, so at least he wasn't alone in fleeing the Fenton household. Jack and Maddie… Well, he doesn’t think they’ve even noticed his disappearance. Not with their single minded focus on re-capturing Phantom.
When he was last there, (moving out secretly), they raved on and on about how they almost had the ghost hero, how they’d gotten him into the lab, on and on. Danny was sick just thinking about what happened.
He shakes his head like he could physically remove the thought from his brain. Now isn't the time. He's got a job to do, and he's slacking.
Gotham U was a good college, and with his performance in some of their science classes, he'd landed a pretty good paid internship in WE’s aerospace sector. Of course, no matter how much he loved space, it didn't make the equations easier.
As ghost king, he did have the collected knowledge of thousands of years and thousands of universes at his fingertips, but that felt like cheating. So here he sits, staring down the same equation he'd been struggling over for the better part of the day.
His eye twitches. He rereads the letters and numbers for the hundredth time.
He's shocked from his staring contest with the unmovable screen by a tap on his shoulder, and he physically jolts back at the sudden fright. Wow, some Ghost King!
“Whoa! Sorry Danny, it's just… You've been eyeing that string for…” Michael checks his watch, brow furrowed. He blinks and shakes his head. “...way too long. I think it's time you take a lunch break, huh?”
Michael was one of the heads of his division, and he was probably the nicest boss Danny had. Super understanding. That's why Danny gives him a dazed nod and blink, standing sluggishly and stretching while his boss moves on.
His legs are numb and full of pins and needles at the same time, causing him to hiss out a pained breath. Trudging through the department to the break room, he grabs his lunch box and debates eating at the small table provided to them in the drab break room.
It takes half a second to decide he needs some fresh air and head out of the building. There's a cute corner cafe he likes to frequent, and they don't mind him taking his lunch inside.
Learning to cook was a challenge. He was so used to fighting back against food that he was wary of the kitchen. Jazz had to drop by often to help him work past that. Now, he wasn't the best chef, but he could cook a good dish with a recipe, and he'd even been going more and more off book lately.
Today's lunch was a simple sandwich, the sauce of course infused with ectoplasm.
He'd been worried that adding ectoplasm would bring the food to life, but was assured by Lunch Lady that it would be fine.
Apparently, ectoplasm was a necessity for types like him. It was a necessity for every ghost, of course, but he had to go about absorbing it differently. Through some trial and error, they discovered it was easiest to just ingest ectoplasm to meet his needs. On top of that, when mixed with food, the odd taste seemed non-existent! A win-win all around.
Ancients, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he sat down and had his first bite. He felt the ectoplasm dissolve and radiate through him, making him feel almost lighter, more awake.
It was a fulfilling feeling, and made him realize that maybe he'd gone a bit too long without topping up his internal stores of ectoplasm. Regardless, he went for another bite.
That's when he noticed it.
Or rather, that's when he felt it.
Someone stepped into the cafe, and their presence . Not quite ghostly, not quite human. Almost like Vlad, but way less slimy, and hungry . Starving, even.
His eyes lock onto the man entering, and unbidden, he watches the man step up to the counter. He’s tall, and built like a brick wall with a heavy leather jacket over his shoulders. His hair is jet black save for, curiously, a patch of pure white curls over his forehead.
Danny unwittingly expands his aura, trying to comfort this clearly starving liminal unconsciously.
Of course, the maybe halfa startles back and whirls to face Danny.
His eyes meet the stranger's teal eyes, and Danny sees something almost like fear cross over the man's face before being replaced by anger. With the anger comes a change in his blue-ish eyes, shifting them more to a neon green, and the flaring of a shockingly weak aura.
It feels fragile even as it tries to curl protectively around the man, hissing and crackling like flames eating through logs.
Little firecrackers.
Overwhelmingly, there’s a sick sort of feeling that comes over Danny when he inspects the man’s aura, like something is terribly wrong with it. Something twisted and unnatural about the rage that contorts the man’s features and races through his veins.
Danny faintly senses a small proto-core of sorts buried deep in the man, under all that green hate. It's as if the man was supposed to be a halfa too, but that crucial ghost part of himself hadn’t formed right. And Ancients, that achingly hungry sensation flooded his senses once more as Firecracker began walking his way, a scowl turning his lips.
Danny was getting secondhand pangs of pain in his stomach from how strong the feeling was.
The man was at his table now, and Danny realized he’d been creepily staring for far too long for it to be comfortable. The strange halfa, (because with their proximity, Danny was now sure he was a halfa) opened his mouth to speak.
Before he could get a word out, Danny was pushing into his space, all but shoving part of the ectoplasm sandwich into the man’s mouth. The human part of Firecracker seems to want him to pull away, to recoil, but that tiny piece of ghost in him overpowered his body in that moment, and as soon as he had gotten that first bite down, he tugged the rest from Danny’s hands.
Danny let him with a sigh, relieved his spur of the moment plan worked and the man no longer looked like he wanted Danny dead.
Firecracker was wolfing the ectoplasm infused meal down so fast that Danny was worried he’d have to perform the Heimlich on the guy. Instead, he laid a hand on his shoulder and guided him to sit in the seat across from Danny. They were getting some odd looks from the other patrons of the cafe, but Danny was more focused on making sure Firecracker was eating something.
He was done with the sandwich in no time, and blinking confusedly at Danny. The green that had overtaken his eyes was gone, as was the anger. The new shade of icy blue was striking.
“What the fuck.” He managed to rasp, shaking his head. “What the fuck was that?” He repeats, voice a bit stronger now. The fire that had curled about him earlier had dropped to a quiet simmer, sounding almost content now.
Danny gives him a smile, trying for easygoing. It probably comes off a bit strained. “Don’t get all angry on me again dude, but it was food.”
The man across from him is not amused.
“I know that, dumbass. What did you do to me?” There’s a growl to his voice again, but his eyes were still bright blue, so Danny remained relaxed.
“ I didn’t do anything. You , however…” Danny hesitates, trying to phrase his next question right. “Well, Firecracker, have you- there’s no easier way to ask this, I'm so sorry- have you… died… before?” Danny winces at his uneven stammering.
Firecracker blinks. “Jason.”
Danny blinks back. “What?”
“Jason. My name is Jason, not Firecracker.”
“I- okay? I’m Danny?” Firec- Jason nods decisively and stands.
“Somehow you made the green shit go away, and you absolutely know something I don't, so get up. We’re going somewhere more private .” Jason stares Danny down unblinkingly, intensely. “I have a feeling we need to talk .”
Danny nods back and stands to follow Jason. Privately he thinks that he should not feel so flustered by the man who is quite literally underhandedly threatening him.
Again, much like always, he shakes it off to get into gear. He clearly has some explaining to do.
---
Seated around a wobbly table in a ramshackle apartment, Danny tries not to feel intimidated by the man across from him. He’s the Ghost King for Ancient’s sake! Nevertheless, Jason’s got this glare that makes Danny want to look away.
He scans the room for the fifth time and can’t help but feel a bit bad for the guy. He’s clearly not well off. The apartment is really just one room with a sad stove and minifridge in one corner and a mattress on the floor on the other side.
The floor is cold tile on Danny’s legs as he sits in front of the only other furniture in the place, a coffee table with one leg shorter than the others, causing it to shift and move with the slightest amount of pressure. It is extremely awkward, to say the least.
Danny clears his throat, figuring it was better to get this uncomfortable topic over with. “So. You died, yeah?” He winces at his own lack of tack, but Jason just silently nods. “Okay. And you came back, obviously.”
Danny sighs and glances down. “That happened to me too. I- I’m gonna start this off by just asking you to believe me, and try to put some trust in me. It might be tough, but I’m going to tell you the truth.”
Jason shrugs. “Give me your best shot. Can’t hurt.”
“Ghosts are real.” Danny blurts.
Jason opens his mouth, clearly ready to refute this, so Danny pushes on.
“Ghost’s are real, and me and you are half Ghost, or halfa’s. Except- except, something’s wrong with how you came back?” Danny flushes bright red at the taken aback expression Jason gives him. “Not- not wrong! Just… different?? Oh Ancients that came out wrong. Hold on.”
Jason is surprisingly patient with him as he pauses to breath and reorder his thoughts. If Danny were Jason, he’d have punched himself by now. And he was supposed to be king?? Ancients, the observers had their work cut out for them. He takes another deep breath.
“Alright, from the top. Ghosts are real, and Ghosts have something called a core. Halfa’s have cores too. It’s the ghost part of them, so it’s, like, super important.” Jason nods, still looking a bit lost. “Great. So for you- and please take no offense- your core didn’t form like it should’ve when you came back. In fact-”
Danny stretches his senses out, not noticing the way Jason flinches back as his presence fills the room.
“I don’t think your core even got to start forming. I have no idea how you’re here.” Danny says, well and truly confused.
Jason sighs and puts his head into his hands. “The fucking Lazarus pits.” He curses.
“The what?” Danny asks, cocking his head to the side.
Jason begins to explain.
–--
Danny makes a disgusted face. “Dude, that's so messed up.”
Jason nods enthusiastically, gesturing broadly. “I know! I came back, got caught, and immediately tossed in! And- and now I've got all this anger and urge for violence I can't control but-” He faces Danny again, making direct eye contact. “Whatever was in that fucking sandwich made it go away . I- I mean completely .”
He runs a hand through his wild hair, clearly frazzled. “It’s starting to come back slowly, I can feel it creeping,” His lip turns down, “but it was gone. What was in that sandwich!?” He looks about ready to grab Danny by the shoulders and shake him, and Danny feels for the guy.
From the vague story of getting brought back alone, Danny knew that Firecracker had seen some pretty screwed up stuff.
“It was ectoplasm. Essential for ghosts, and therefore, necessary for halfa’s. It comes from the ghost zone and I just put it in food since it’s way easier than, like, injecting it into my veins or sitting in pools of it. You clearly haven’t ever had any, and that might be a part of why you have such a small core. Though-" Danny pauses, and Jason leans in a bit. “Now that I think about it, those Lazarus pits you talked about… It sounds a lot like a pool of corrupted ectoplasm, which would be-” Danny whistles a breath out.
“Pretty bad?” Jason fills in.
“Understatement.”
They sit in grim silence for a moment. Danny tries to lighten the mood.
“But we can worry about that later. I think, if I'm right about you having corrupted ectoplasm blocking your core from growing, I may be able to help!”
–-–
“So you’re saying that to get rid of the pits I need to purge-”
“Purge your corrupted ectoplasm, yes.” Danny confirms.
“And then I just replace it with the good stuff and, poof? All better?” Jason sounds like he can’t believe it. Danny’s sure it feels almost too easy for him after struggling to live with all that mess.
“Poof. all better.”
Jason gives him the tiniest head shake, like he’s trying to wrangle his thoughts together. “I don’t know why it feels so easy to trust you on this.”
Danny perks up. “Oh, I can actually explain that, too!
“That’s another thing about the ghost part of us! We are going to struggle to lie to each other because our cores expose that kind of stuff. You probably have trouble detecting it really now, but as soon as you’re in better shape, I’ll show you what I mean.” This explanation just seems to make Jason unsettled, which was not Danny’s goal.
“So you can just kinda know what I'm feeling whenever?”
Danny shakes his head immediately, realizing the problem.
“Oh no, not at all! It takes some focus and concentration, not to mention skill, if you're not projecting those feelings. Dishonesty just kind of-'' Danny makes a hand wavy motion in the air. “-doesn’t sit right.” He huffs a breath. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise, you’ll know.”
How does he begin to explain ghostspeak and auras and core types to a halfa who hardly has a core?? Never mind, put that on the back burner, come back for it later.
Jason, clearly exhausted from all of this, just nods at his weak explanation and leans back, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. Danny averts his eyes from Jason's well defined muscles instantly, focusing on literally anything else.
“So… what now?” Jason’s eyes are a more-blue-than-green teal now, and his gaze is intent.
Danny grins at Jason, jumping on the chance to change the subject. “Well, you give me your number, and we plan to have a meal together every other night. Just so you don’t get overloaded with pure ectoplasm too quickly.”
Jason slides his phone, already open to contacts, over to Danny smoothly. “If it gets rid of the Lazarus madness, I’m down for anything.” He laughs, but it comes out flat and tired.
Danny feels a pang of sympathy as he types his number in. They sit there for another moment before Danny finally stands.
“...Well, I'll leave you be.” He finds he really doesn’t want to say that.
He doesn't want to leave Jason alone in this barren apartment. But he also doesn’t want to overstep, and it’s clear Jason needs a break. “See you in a day?”
Jason nods, straightening up. He pauses. “Thanks. I- yeah.”
“It's nothing. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”
“Yeah. I hope so.”
Danny turns to leave before he gets an idea and whirls back. Danny gives Jason his best, beaming smile. “Watch this. Going Ghost!”
The transformation takes in it's usual flash of light, leaving Danny standing there in his hazmat suit, a cheeky grin on his face. Jason’s slack-jawed expression pulls a laugh from Danny.
He winks before floating towards the window to the side and phasing into the alley before going invisible. He watches for just a moment longer to see Jason tear his curtains to the side to look upon the street and see… nothing.
Yeah, having a friend in Gotham could be good for Danny.
…
It’s when he’s on his way home that realization strikes him. He never went back to work!!! Oh Ancients, no!
—meanwhile—
Jason is not panicking. He’s not!
He’s calm and cool and collected and all that stuff! Exactly what you’d expect after being told there was a simple cure to the sickness that plagued your every waking moment.
Danny was, for genuine lack of words, a whirlwind . He sweeps in out of nowhere and makes Jason feel like everything he’s known since revival has been turned on its head. So much information he just didn’t know. So much he still had to find out.
Patience is a virtue, but Jason’s never been the best at holding back. He had been a bat after all.
He paces the length of his dingy, 6th best safe house and chews on a knuckle anxiously.
Sure, Jason had inexplicably trusted Danny about the ‘Ghosts are real and you are one’ thing, but seeing it in action was a whole other ball game. He hates the twist of anxiety in his gut as he paces his sixteenth lap of the apartment.
Finally, he shakes his head like a dog trying to rid its fur of water and decides to just head back to his real house. He’s got dinner plans in a day anyways.
Besides, he was trying to be on better terms with some local bats, and going missing suddenly on a coffee trip with no word on what happened to him was not good policy. He could already feel the headache coming on. He rubs at the bridge of his nose with a groan.