“I Am Not Explaining That to Bruce” — DP x DC (Nightwing & Danny)
Nightwing has seen some things.
He’s fought shape-shifting sludge monsters, time-traveling assassins, a dude whose gimmick is literally “calendar,” and one extremely unhinged clown who refuses to die no matter how many times the multiverse politely tries to erase him.
What Nightwing has not seen is this:
A teenage boy phasing through a collapsing apartment building like gravity and structural engineering laws are merely suggestions. He scoops up a screaming kid mid-plummet, phases back out through rebar, concrete, and drywall, and lands on the street like this is a Tuesday afternoon.
Which, to be fair, it is Tuesday.
Nightwing touches down beside him, mask scanning for injuries. “Nice save! Seriously, perfect timing. What’s your meta classification?”
The kid blinks glowing green eyes at him. “Ghost.”
Nightwing pauses. “Right. Your meta classification?”
The kid stares. “Ghost.”
Nightwing squints like his brain is buffering.
“…Is that a codename?”
“No,” the teen says cheerfully, though he’s visibly trying not to drop the kid he’s still holding. “Ghost.”
The kid in his arms chimes in—because apparently he, too, has accepted this as normal—“He was see-through! And cold!”
“I’m not cold,” the boy mutters. “That’s slander.”
Nightwing holds up a hand. “Okay. Okay. Cool. Great. But when I say ‘meta classification,’ I mean your power category. You know—speedster, telepath, flier, Blüdhaven-level-henchman-magnet, that kind of thing.”
Danny: “Ghost.”
There’s a beat of absolute Gotham-grade silence.
Nightwing slowly lowers his escrima sticks like he’s surrendering to reality.
“…I am not explaining that to Bruce.”
Danny shrugs like he gets this a lot. “You don’t have to. I won’t stick around long.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Nightwing says automatically, because this kid has danger written all over him—and not the fun kind. More like “Jason will adopt you if I blink.” “You just phased through a ten-story building like it was a curtain. I am professionally obligated to at least get your name.”
“Danny.”
“Last name?”
Danny hesitates. “Uh… which one do you want? The human one, the ghost one, or the one that makes eldritch critters run away screaming?”
Nightwing opens his mouth.
Closes it.
Considers how tired he is.
“Just give me the one that won’t summon anything if I say it aloud.”
“Fenton,” Danny decides. “Danny Fenton.”
Nightwing taps that into his communicator. “Alright, Mr. Fenton, we’re going to take you to—”
A ripple of green mist curls off Danny’s shoulders. Not threatening, but definitely not normal.
“Actually,” Danny says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I should go. I’ve kinda been following an ecto-signature across dimensions for like three hours, and if I stop now it’ll be like losing your place in a YouTube playlist.”
“That is… not a metaphor I expected,” Nightwing admits.
Danny only grins. “I’m full of surprises!”
Nightwing is starting to believe that in the worst possible way.
Before he can respond, a motorcycle skids to a stop behind him.
Red Hood.
Of course.
Jason takes one look at the scene and points at Danny. “Who the hell is glowing?”
Danny gives a tiny wave. “Ghost.”
Jason points harder. “Dick. Why is there a ghost child.”
“Don’t start,” Nightwing mutters. “I’ve already hit my weird quota for the night.”
Jason leans closer to Nightwing like Danny can't hear him. “Is this one of Constantine’s mistakes?”
“No,” Danny calls back, offended. “I’m a natural disaster.”
Jason actually looks impressed. “Oh damn. Same.”
Before Dick can scream, a glowing green ring snaps around Danny’s middle, ripping upward in a flash of white light. The ghost teenager is suddenly a normal black-haired kid in jeans who looks exactly like he just stepped out of algebra class.
Jason: “WHAT.”
Nightwing: “Oh come on!”
Danny looks down at himself. “Ah. Shoot. Battery’s low. Okay, yeah, no—I really gotta go.”
He gives the kid he saved a reassuring pat, hands him off to paramedics, and floats—yes floats—back into the air in his human form.
“Thanks for the save, Nightwing! Also, uh… maybe don’t tell Batman yet?”
Nightwing throws his hands up. “Tell him what? That I met a ghost who’s also a teen who’s also a meta who’s also a—?!”
Danny waves cheerfully and vanishes into a twist of green light.
Jason looks at the empty air for a long moment.
Then looks at Nightwing.
“…Bruce is gonna blame you for that.”
Nightwing groans. “I KNOW.”
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