Originally written in like, 10 minutes (but then edited for several hours the day after posting) because I was excited by the idea of Danny and Constantine existing in the same story. Inspired by the community at dannyphantom-justiceleauge. Anyone not following them on Tumblr is missing out. They have some quality meta.
There's a lot packed in here, and a lot I am missing or could expand on. Please tell me how I can fix this. I know the ideal is probably a full-length/multi-chap fic, but I really don't have the energy for that right now. Spot fixes, though, I am totally down for.
Danny Phantom had been an official member of the League for little over a year, yet the reminder that he was a real, universally-recognizable superhero still had him reeling. He was friends with Superman! Sort of. They were teammates, at least. Occasionally paired for missions. Though usually he was on stealth drops with Batman or surveilling diplomatic summits with Wonder Woman.
Still! He was a member of the Justice League. He'd settled himself into their ranks, gotten to know some of the most famous people on Earth, and made a name for himself outside of Amity in just 15 months. That was a heck of an improvement for a small-town kid whose own citizens knew him best as the local menace.
At first, his membership had been hotly debated. Of those who'd voted against his recruitment, he'd heard that half had used his age as an excuse while the other half raised his supposed crimes as proof he wasn't League material. Zatara had claimed that "Ghosts are fickle and easily misled."
With natural ghost portals opening more frequently and an increasing number of global attacks from Phantom's usual suspects and other powerful unknowns, Zatara's comment had nearly sold the vote.
But Batman had vouched for him. He'd exposed Amity's anti-ghost campaign, cited a number of peaceful undead entities known to the League, and reminded them all of the vigilante beginnings of many of the other heroes, himself included. Captain Marvel had stood up for him too, unexpectedly.
In the end, the 'I's won, and Phantom was put on probation, pending registration. Tucker had almost had an aneurysm when Danny told him. He'd made Danny recite the entire hearing play by play, and then spent the rest of their Doom session grilling him about each of the supers and if they lived up to their reputations.
Sam had cautioned him about keeping his identity a secret and warned him not to sell out to the government. Danny had promised he'd be careful.
0o0o
After a few months of knowing the kid, Superman had to admit that he wasn't that bad.
He could be as annoying as Flash and as stubborn as Batman at times, but he had a good heart. He was careful of collateral damage and his first instinct was always to protect, be it civilians or teammates.
Clark supposed it came with being dead, knowing that he could survive a fatal blow because he wasn't alive to be killed by it. But it was too natural, too genuine to be a learned response. It was who he was. And though he admired it, it always made Clark a little upset wondering if that same instinct to put himself in danger to protect others was what had got Phantom killed in the first place.
The ghost boy refused to talk about his death. Nobody had explicitly asked him how it happened, but there had been several conversations that provided openings for him to give the answer. He ignored every one of them.
They knew very little about Danny's past. Who he had been in life, how long he had been dead, what his living name had been – he hadn't told a soul. They knew he had connections in Amity Park, and he talked about his friends a lot, but there was a distinct lack of information about his family.
Clark wondered if he was protecting himself or someone else. If Phantom had any living family members, they could easily be used against him if someone of low enough moral standing found out. But the kid should be able to trust them, right? They were the Justice League.
"Has anyone heard from Phantom?"
Batman's voice pulls him from his thoughts and reminds Clark of why he was thinking about the ghost boy in the first place.
As the dark knight takes his seat in the Watchtower conference room, a few muttered negatives sound out from around the table. Clark himself shakes his head.
He hasn't heard from Phantom in almost two weeks, though it isn't unusual for the ghost to disappear at odd times. If he was alive, Clark would assume he was busy in his civilian life. As it is, he suspects the boy spends his free time in the ghost dimension or simply hanging around his human friends.
When no one gives him a solid answer, Batman moves on to explain why he called them together so urgently. Someone had unleashed an army of robots at a charity concert just outside of Metropolis. Normally, this wouldn't require a full League team, but at the same time there was a break-in on the other side of town at a storage facility housing a shipment of classified government technology.
"The robots are a diversion," Clark says.
"Obviously," Batman replies. "Clark, Diana, John. You'll take care of the robots. Manhunter and I will scout the warehouse. Flash, you're on monitor duty. Let me know if you reach Phantom."
0o0o
Flash does, eventually, reach the ghost. He shows up in time to start ferrying out the last civilians still on the concert grounds, those stuck hiding under chairs and behind piles of dismembered robot parts. When there are no more screams or shouts for help, he joins the others in containing and destroying the remains of the metal army.
Clark doesn't notice anything off at first. Phantom works with his usual efficiency, zipping around with abandon and catching those areas that slip by the others, picking off robots left and right. It isn't until he stops abruptly, hovering above the field that Superman pays closer attention.
And it's good he does.
With a cry of, "Watch out!" Clark speeds across the stadium, reaching out and catching the iron beam inches from the glowing tip of Phantom's nose. The ghost boy jerks back, eyes wide and mouth parting in surprise.
Clark can tell he hadn't been at all aware of the danger, which is worrying in itself, but add that the beam had been thrown from in front of Phantom and Clark's concern skyrockets. The ghost is always hyper vigilant of his surroundings, barring occasional bouts of overconfidence, and yet he'd been so zoned out that he'd missed an I-beam flying directly at his face.
Though he knows, objectively, that Phantom is already dead and has been for none of them know how long, it's hard to see him as invulnerable, especially when Clark's seen him bleed before. And even though he's a ghost, he's still a teenager. It's hard not to be protective of him.
Superman turns and launches the beam back at a cluster of the robots, sending the whole group crashing to the ground where they twitch and spark until their systems fail. Then he turns back to look at the ghost boy, scanning up and down with both normal and X-ray vision to make sure he isn't hurt anywhere. Ghost physiology is weird, and Danny has bones as often as he doesn't, but breaks are always clear. He can't see anything that looks obviously hurt now, nothing that would indicate why Phantom would be so off his game.
Clark puts a careful hand on the boy's shoulder, forcing neon green eyes to meet his, and asks, "Danny, are you okay?"
Clark can see him struggling to focus, and for just a moment it looks like he wants to admit something. Then the look fades and Danny puffs his chest out.
"What? No! I mean, yeah!" Phantom says. "See, totally fine."
He shoots off an ecto blast, striking an oncoming robot in the face for emphasis. Then he shrugs out from under Clark's hand, and gives him a toothy grin.
"C'mon, let's go kick some robot butt!"
He flies off to join Wonder Woman and Green Lantern, throwing precise bolts of ecto energy at their few remaining metal foes. Clark stays where he is, watching, waiting as near-silent footsteps approach. Then he turns to look at Batman.
"He's not alright."
Bruce's eyes narrow behind his mask. "No, he's not. Come on. We found our thief. It's Luthor."
0o0o
Luthor gets away. Though Batman has ample evidence from the facility that indicates Luthor was responsible, Metropolis PD declares it circumstantial and refuses to follow up. As always, Luthor's alibi is airtight.
Four days and several slip-ups later, Danny has been grounded. He's stuck at the Watchtower, waiting for Black Canary to give him a psychological once-over. He can't tell them that Jazz has already done the same without telling them who Jazz is, and he can't risk them knowing about his sister. She'd told him it was probably just stress. And since he's balancing schoolwork, League work, and ghost hunting, while still trying to find time to hang out with Tucker and Sam, he believes her.
He sighs, pushing his tray away and laying his head on the cafeteria table, folding his arms as a pillow.
A light breeze signals he's not going to be allowed to brood in peace.
"So, what's with the costume change, little man?" Flash asks. "You lookin' to send a message or you just get tired of your old digs?"
Danny sits up, resigned to the conversation. He swats Flash's hand away as the man reaches toward his head. Both of them turn as a tray sets down on the other side of Danny's table. Wonder Woman smiles at him.
"I, too, would like to know," she says.
Danny reaches up and self-consciously adjusts the flaming crown hovering above his head. As Flash had pointed out, it's a recent addition to his wardrobe, and he isn't sure how he feels about it yet. He's had a headache for the past few days that keeps dragging his attention away from the new development.
"My coronation was last week," he says.
"Coronation?!" Barry reels back in surprise, then flits around Phantom for a full look at the new crown. He thumps Danny on the back, grinning wide. "Ya don't say."
"Congratulations," Diana enthuses. Her smile sends cold, ghostly butterflies to his stomach. Danny blushes, partly because the beautiful Amazon is acknowledging him, and partly because everyone at the closest tables is now staring at them.
"Yeah," he says, floating out of his seat and putting his hands on his hips, projecting all the confidence he can muster, "turns out defeating the old ghost king puts you first in line to take his place. You're looking at the new King of the Ghost Zone!"
"This is great news, Phantom!" Diana says, taking one his hands in hers and holding tight despite the chill. It reminds him of how his mom would squeeze his hand when she knew he was nervous. He hopes it's just an Amazon team thing and not a mother thing.
"You may finally be able to achieve the peace you've been struggling for, and gain recognition of your people by the world's governments!" Diana continues.
"Yeah," Flash gripes, "and get the ghosts to stop terrorizing Central."
Danny's good mood vanishes as quickly as it came. All at once, he's aware of every single one of his responsibilities, and the weight of them is overwhelming. He phases out of Wonder Woman's grip and crosses his arms to dissuade her from touching him again.
"It won't work. The ghosts won't listen to me," he says. "I'll see you guys later."
Then he vanishes.
Wonder Woman looks at Flash, who shrugs, equally as confused. Having witnessed the entire exchange from his seat at the window, Batman frowns, staring at the spot where Phantom disappeared.
0o0o
"Hey! Hey, kid! Kid!"
Danny startles at the sudden hand on his wrist. He follows the leather glove up to meet the wide-eyed mask hiding Green Arrow's identity. The man drops his hand before Phantom can phase free, returning his fingers to a tight grip on his bow.
It's been a week since his conversation with Flash and Diana. Black Canary had listened and come to the same conclusion as Jazz. She'd suggested a few stress relief strategies and cleared him for field work. He'd volunteered for the first mission that came up, eager to let out some steam.
"Geeze, kid, lighten up a little; I don't think this guy can take much more. He ain't some super nut, he's just a regular Joe Bank Robber. What, did he kick your ghost puppy or somethin'?"
Danny stares. Oliver will never admit how unsettled that gaze makes him. The kid's got eyes like radioactive waste and a greenish tint to his too-pale skin. His colourless hair is stained emerald from the cold-burning fire of a floating crown. It's spooky.
And it's unnerving how the kid shifts from kneeling over the unfortunate robber to standing without really moving.
"I stopped him, didn't I?" the kid says. "He's not gonna hurt anyone else."
Oliver watches him walk away, holding fast against the shiver that tickles up his spine, until the kid meets the crowd of grateful bank-goers and disappears into thin air.
He looks back the man on the floor, the shallow rise and stunted fall of his breathing, the blood gushing from a broken nose, the unnatural swelling of the poor bloke's cheek and eye. He can't help a moment of weakness, a small wince. What he's looking at is overkill. Ollie had shot an arrow into the guy's gun hand early on – he was out, but Phantom had still beat the snot out of him.
He looks to where Phantom had vanished and resolves to avoid working with the ghost in the future if he can swing it. For now, he opens the comm. to the Watchtower and requests a quick pick up.
0o0o
"Nothing too serious, yet," Batman reports. He taps a few keys on the console in front of him and brings up a recent picture of Phantom. "It started right after he got this," he says, pointing to the flaming crown floating above the ghost's head.
"Bollocks."
Batman's eyes narrow behind his mask. "What."
"Oh, nothing! Just the bleeding Crown of Fire, ancient ghost artifact and all around pain in the arse."
"What does it do?"
"Well, a few millennia ago it just sat there and looked pretty. But it's spent several thousand years cooped up with a bloodthirsty tyrant after he was forced into a small box for all eternity. And these ghosts – they're all about emotions, mate. That thing'll have absorbed a lot of rage and now it's found an outlet in your pet spook. You've got to get that thing away from him as soon as possible."
"Tell me how."
"If you're lucky, you can just ask him. More likely, you'll need to weaken him and pry it out of his cold, dead hands. I'll look around, see if I have anything at the Mill that can help, but no promises."
"Thanks, John." He reaches to disconnect the video feed.
"Wait, Batman-!" just as the screen goes black.
Bruce whirls around to find himself face to face with Phantom and a nearly identical copy. The scowl on the one wearing the crown causes Batman to tense. He leans back, tilting his chin up in silent challenge as he casually rests an elbow on the console. Consequently, his fingers hover over a sheath of batarangs in his utility belt.
"Phantom. There something you need?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact," the copy on the right says.
"Tell me what you and Constantine were talking about," the original demands.
"You're sick," Batman barges straight through the proverbial bush. "The Crown is controlling you. You need to take it off."
"Hmm," the copy puts a hand on its chin, feigning consideration. "No."
"Phantom-"
Batman slides into a fighting stance as quickly as Phantom drops into readiness, one gloved hand wielding a bat shaped razor against a supernatural kid with fists now lit up in glowing green. He knows they are both aware of the anti-ghost enhancements to his belt, both aware that Phantom can't touch him. But they also know the kid is quite skilled in long-distance fighting.
Phantom breaks the standoff, firing a beam of super-cooled ectoplasm at the dark knight. Batman sidesteps, whipping the batarang at the ghost boy and pulling out another. The conjured clone slams into him, shrieking as the belt lights it up in ecto-electricity. He expects Phantom to back off, but the clone reaches spasming hands around the knight's waist.
Batman slams an elbow into the clone's face, but it doesn't let go. He feels the clasp of his belt unhitch, the yellow leather falling away with the clone. Less than a second later, his breath catches as his lungs freeze. His limbs seize, and there's a voice in his head; he knows it's bad, but he can't think past the ice in his brain. He watches his hands pick up the utility belt, feels his boots against the floor as his legs carry him to the elevator.
This is bad.
If it wasn't so cold, maybe he could fight back…
0o0o
"Careful, John," Chas warns, just as the Zeta beam whisks the magician away.
Constantine finds himself facing the worried red eyes of the Martian Manhunter. It isn't often after all, that the occult expert demands emergency transportation to the Watchtower. Completely unprecedented, in fact.
"You said the Watchtower may be in danger," J'onn says.
"Definitely in danger," John answers. He holds up what looks like a small shard of Kryptonite, waggles the rock and his eyebrows at the Martian's expression. "You've got a little ghost problem. I'd ask who you gonna call, but I already called you."
The grin fades quickly and Constantine turns to the elevator. "Now, let's go catch us a ghost."
Manhunter frowns but gleans what he needs from the thoughts John gives him access to. He mentally searches out Hawkgirl, calls her up meet them on the bridge. They may require the nth metal of her mace to incapacitate Phantom.
J'onn steps aside as the elevator opens and Batman walks out. Constantine is skimming through a journal, but steps absently aside as well. He puts one foot into the elevator, pauses, looks up. J'onn can see his next breath in a plume of mist. The magician whirls around, eyes wide, hand reaching into his coat for the green stone.
"J'onn," Hawkgirl soars around the elevator column, alighting on the walkway with her mace held ready. "What's going on? You sounded worried-"
"Shayera, duck!"
Hawkgirl reacts to the tone before she fully registers the warning, bringing her mace up in time to block the boot aimed at her head. Batman pushes off from the mace, flips to land crouched and ready.
"Bruce! What-?"
She registers the green glow from his eyes at the same time J'onn does. The Martian launches himself at Batman, twisting his form to something more snakelike to wrap the knight in a crushing hold. The ghost possessing Batman tries to phase them out but J'onn counters by shifting his own density to match.
"J'onn!" Hawkgirl hesitates. She can't get a good shot in with her mace with Manhunter so close, and she doesn't really want to whack Batman in the first place. She glances over as Constantine runs up to stand level with her.
"Don't worry about him, sweetheart. Look, I need your help." He presses something that looks suspiciously like Kryptonite to the handle of her weapon. "Do us a favour and give Bats a good whack with your mace, eh? Knock Phantom right out of him."
"Phantom? He's possessing Batman?"
"Eh, the Crown's possessing him and he's possessing Batman, so yeah. Now, go!"
Shayera lifts off, swooping over the struggle as the two roll over the edge of the walkway and crash into the floor below.
Manhunter flinches, shrinking to his humanoid shape, and staggers away. Batman's hands are glowing with Phantom's usual green energy, and Hawkgirl swears she see the thin outline of a flaming crown above his head. Batman flattens his hand and leaps.
'J'onn, move!' Shayera thinks.
Manhunter sinks into the floor, and Hawkgirl attacks. Her mace lights with electricity just before she slams it into Batman's stomach. He goes flying.
J'onn shoots from the floor and catches Batman's waist, follows the momentum until he can safely lower the man to the floor.
Phantom, meanwhile, crashes into the Watchtower's metal wall hard enough to leave a dent. Hawkgirl watches with wary, worried eyes until she sees Batman breathe. Until she sees Phantom pry himself out of the cavity.
She readies herself as he shakes off the blow, holds her position until he flies at her, then swings. He dodges with a boneless twist, shoots an ectoblast. She bats it back at him.
"Hey!" The voice is mental but it doesn't sound like J'onn. Shayera takes one precious second to glance down.
Manhunter is carefully examining Batman, bent over as he runs gentle fingers up and down the man's chest. Halfway across the room from them is a chalk circle rimmed with black-stemmed roses. John Constantine stands just outside it, waving at her.
"Get him in here."
Hawkgirl nods. She looks back in time to dodge an energy-encased fist as Phantom swings at her. She kicks him, sends him several feet through the air. Something slams into her right wing and Shayera cries out in surprise as much as pain. She wrenches her wing free, spins to see another Phantom drop a handful of feathers.
Both Phantoms shoot toward her, and Shayera flies up. She drops a foot in surprise as a punch lands square to the side of her face. Three?!
No, she realizes as she flips out of the path of another fist, there are five clones! Phantom's never been able to make five clones before. He's also never been this quiet before.
"No fair! Clones are cheating!" she hears John call from below her.
The clones circle her, so she spins slowly in the air, trying to keep all of them in her vision. She notices something quickly: only one of them wears a crown. She attacks without warning, dropping her mace so it swings by the cord around her wrist, and grabs the crowned Phantom by the shoulder, folds her wings. They drop like stones, her momentum sending them crashing right into John's circle.
The effect is instantaneous. Phantom screams. The clones disappear. Shayera doesn't feel anything more than blooming bruises as she hops to her feet and steps out of the circle's barrier, careful not to disturb it.
Constantine steps over the chalk line. He stands over the writhing ghost boy, then leans down and plucks the crown from his head. He makes some complicated motion with gold-glowing fingers and the crown disappears. Then he slams his palms to the floor and the circle and flowers are gone too. The gold fades. Phantom settles into an exhausted slump on the ground, breathing hard, eyes closed.
"…It's over?" Shayera ventures to ask.
Constantine pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, and though he doesn't light it, he sticks it in his mouth. "Should be."
0o0o
"It's called the Crown of Fire, you twats! It's Ancient and fiery. Of course Phantom was gonna have a bad reaction to it, he's got an ice core."
"What would have happened, eventually?" Batman asks, scowling up at Constantine from his bed in medical.
"Eventually? The fire would have burned out Phantom's core and asserted itself in its new host. Luckily, we got it off in time. The worst he's gonna get is a fever and one Hell of a post-possession hangover."
"But he will make a full recovery?" Wonder Woman asks.
"Absolutely. And from now on, how about none of you wankers lets him mess around with old ghost artifacts, eh?! I don't want to be runnin' up here every bloody week to perform an exorcism. I don't get paid enough for that."
"You don't get paid at all," Flash points out, "You're not even a member of the Justice League."
"Oh, is that right?" Constantine swaggers over to Flash, "What's this then?" He flicks a card at the speedster, who snatches it out of the air and narrows his eyes at it.
"This is- Where did you get a membership card?" He looks back up, only to find empty air where Constantine had stood. Flash whirls around, holds the card out to the others, only to find his fingers are empty.
"Argh, I hate when he does that!"
"You're just jealous he can disappear faster than you," Bruce says, ignoring Barry as he sputters in favour of watching Phantom, who is laying still in the next bed over.
There's a nagging feeling like they should be doing more for the kid, but they hadn't known what to do medically. The boy was dead.
Constantine had assured them that they didn't need to do anything.
"Danny will heal on his own," he'd said, "very special for a ghost, that one."
They had no choice but to trust him. They just had to wait.