Ch.3: Twenty Questions

Just as it had been the first time, Batman found no resistance when he came to the window. It elicited one of the biggest eyerolls that he'd ever given since he'd had Jason under his roof. How could this kid just leave his window unlocked like that? Especially after Batman had gotten in this way once already. Was he dying for some kind of lowlife to see all the tech laid out in his room and sneak in? Sure, Las Vegas was no Gotham City or Blϋdhaven, but still.

Slipping in, Batman took notice that the apartment was still itty bitty, and the only lights that remained on happened to be from the computer. However, instead of Danny sitting or standing at attention, his focus all in with his work, Batman found him hunched over his desk, head in his arms. The Dark Knight tiptoed a little closer, just enough to see the boy's face as he laid on his cheek, his face swimming in a pool of drool streaming from his half-open mouth.

Though he'd come for a job, Batman took a moment just to soak the image up in all of its surrealness. This sleeping kid looked so oblivious and open, so innocent and worry-free. He looked nothing like the crook Batman had come to know who hid himself behind an abrasive exterior, and really, it hit Batman just how young seventeen was.

Not for the first time, Batman wondered if he'd made the best decision in keeping Danny half-in the crime life and half-out. Legally speaking, he always had the option to pluck Danny from his current life and place him with the proper authorities. Maybe Batman could place him with an Amish family. Not only would it keep him away from technology, but after a week with them, he'd probably even have a strong sense of responsibility, discipline, and general courtesy.

But what would that end accomplish, really? Batman knew Danny would go kicking and screaming, and though Batman could physically take the temptation away, it didn't mean Danny would change for the better. In fact, he'd probably be worse off for that kind of interference. You couldn't force morals or virtues down a person's throat; they never stayed down. Danny had to want to change, and right now, he didn't want to. Batman could only hope that, through their little bargain, he'd be able to inspire such a change a little at a time.

Plus, dumping Danny on some poor, unsuspecting family would just be cruel to them. Batman had yet to figure how dangerous Danny truly was, and if he were being honest, he didn't really want to know in full detail quite yet. Instead, he half-wished to stay like this, imaging this sleeping boy as a good kid – one who wasn't cold, meticulous, and totally full of himself. Batman thought he might be the clumsy type in another life, kind of an airhead at times and shy, with some nervous tick that made everyone smile when he fell back onto it to ease his embarrassment or nervousness. He'd probably have lots of friends, a family, a good life.

But that's all it was in the end – a thought. Batman couldn't make it materialize into real life, so he banished it from his mind and focused on his task.

Reaching out, Batman placed a gentle hand on Danny's back, trying not to startle him. It didn't seem he had much to worry about; stuck in deep REM, Danny didn't stir. Batman shook him a little, calling, "Danny. Hey, Danny."

Grumbling under his breath, Danny stirred but didn't rise.

Batman shook him a little harder and said a little louder, "Danny. Wake up."

Nothing.

The Dark Knight rolled his eyes. He reeled his hand back, and while calling, "Danny," he slapped the kid upside the head. Danny bolted awake at once, nearly choking on his own spit, and started jerking back and forth, searching for his attacker with unfocused eyes. "What? What? Who is it? It wasn't me – I swear. I was framed."

For the smallest moment, a smile slipped onto Batman's lips, but it disappeared a second later as his self-control kicked in. He fixed his cold, emotionless expression on and asked, "What exactly is it that you didn't do?"

Danny spun around to the Dark Knight, hands up like he was ready to karate chop the karate master. After some blinking, his mind seemed to finally reboot, and he dropped his hands. Rubbing the sand from his eyes with one hand and wiping the drool from his face with the other, he muttered in a sleep-heavy voice, "Oh. It's just you. What do you want now?"

The urge to crack a smile came again. Danny reminded him so much of Dick and Jason when they were teens and had to be woken up. They were grumpy like this too. Batman squashed his urge, though.

"Well, I'm curious. You said you didn't do it. What didn't you do?" Batman asked.

Danny stared at his supervisor, his synapses still not firing quite yet. Batman could see the cogs in his brain turning, trying to come up with any reply. He might even be trying to remember what Batman was referring to. Who knew? But he eventually gave up, swore under his breath, and turned away from Batman. He started wiping the drool from his workspace with his jacket sleeve, grimacing at the sheer amount that coated his sleeve. He croaked, "None of your business. Now, I'm assuming you crawled through my window like a cockroach for something juicy and of uber importance. What is it?"

Having plenty of experience with grumpy teenagers, Batman ignored the slights with ease. "I have another job, but it's nothing that special. I was in the neighborhood. Decided it would be easier to stop by." He actually hadn't been, but Danny didn't need to know that.

Scowling, Danny propped his head in the palm of his hand, his arm propped against his desk, and gave a look that said, "And that job would be what exactly?"

"I need to find another person," Batman said. "He's your basic street thug, but he saw something a week ago that I need to know about. I don't have much other than his name, Rusty Ruiz, and that he used to work for the Penguin. Was one of his bouncers for his club." Batman nodded at the hologram screens. "Think that's enough info for you to find him?"

Danny gave a big roll of his eyes. He turned to his holograms, pulling himself all the way to his desk, and began typing away at the keyboard. His voice level but with a tick of something irate, he replied, "Of course, I can, dumbass. Who do you take me for? Some Calculator knockoff? Uh-uh. I'm a fucking genius, and your doubtfulness of my abilities is becoming quite offensive if I do say so." The boy sighed. "That said, you're asking for a loser nobody in a sea of loser nobodies." Danny turned to him for a brief moment, twirling his hand 'round and 'round. "Gotham tends to collect loser nobodies, you see, but I'm sure you already figured that out." He turned back to the computer. "I do hope your busy schedule allows you enough time to sit and keep me company while I sift through dozens upon dozens of names."

He'd been expecting as much. Batman said, "Don't worry. I've cleared my schedule."

Danny's typing paused. He glanced at the Dark Knight from the corner of his eyes, judging whether or not he was serious. When he'd come to his conclusion, he grimaced. "Oh. I didn't think you actually would." Danny rubbed the back of his neck, then resumed typing. "Well, this sucks."

Yeah. Batman could agree with that.

Besides the stereo playing some upbeat song that had Danny bobbing side to side in his seat, silence reigned. From behind the teen, Batman watched him work, Danny's eyes far away as he pecked at his keyboard. Like he had said, dozens of names flashed across the screen, but with his quick filtering, Danny appeared to be knocking most of them off. Within minutes, the teen was speed-reading through names faster than a hummingbird's wings could flap.

Batman shifted his weight from one to the other, his cape swaying with the motion. "So, where did you learn to program like this?"

Another pause of Danny's fingers. He glanced over his shoulder at the Dark Knight, his baby-blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, but finding no threat, he went back to work with only the slightest hesitation. "Well, tech has always come naturally to me, but I wouldn't have gotten this far without a few mentors here and there. Pretty sure you're familiar with one of them."

"Calculator?"

"Yeah." Another suspicious glance. "How'd you know?"

"To be that personal offended at being another person's knock off, you'd have to know them." Batman shrugged. "Plus, the Dark-Net is one hundred percent a knock-off his particular system, down to even some of the coding I've uncovered. You learned from him, then figured out a way to make his system better." Plus, these similarities may or may not have pushed Batman to visit the Calculator in prison. He'd been given a confirmation that Danny had in fact mentored under Calculator, but as for personal information, Calculator had none. All he'd told Batman was that the Dark Knight should cut all ties while he had the chance.

It was that last comment – the disturbed voice that Calculator had used – that had brought Batman back to Las Vegas so soon. Time and again, he kept coming across people seemingly scared of the things Danny could do. It didn't make a whole lot of sense to the Dark Knight; the kid couldn't even seem to stomach murder all that well, even if he let it happen within his kingdom. Batman wondered if maybe he'd missed something on his initial two conversations, or maybe everyone else had missed someone Batman had seen. He didn't know, but he wanted to find out.

Back in the present, Danny yelled an, "Aha!" before clicking on one of the many names under the Gothamite category. Batman quirked an eyebrow as he watched where the mouse scrolled, asking, "Why are you looking at Macho Cruz?"

Danny cackled at the Dark Knight's exasperation, an ear-grating sound that had Batman's hair standing on end, and pushed himself up, kicking his chair into the kitchen. Without answering, the teen pressed the call button next to the henchman's name. The stereo and three holograms turned off, as per usual, and Danny strolled past Batman into the kitchen, following after his chair.

"One: you'll see. Two: don't be too underwhelmed, Bats," Danny said as he opened the fridge. He pulled out the only thing in it – a Ruby Tuesday's to-go box – and threw it in the microwave, where he started the timer. Strolling back to his desk, Danny smirked at Batman as he waltzed by. "Most henchman are unoriginal with their names. It's part of their charm." Danny nodded at the screen. "He should pick up here in a minute. Leave the talking to me, alright?"

Batman didn't answer, but Danny was smart enough to take it as an agreement.

The two turned to the hologram, and just as Danny predicted, the call was accepted a moment later. On the other side of the line, a man with greasy blonde hair sipped at his coffee but upon seeing the screen, choked on his drink and set the Styrofoam cup down. He pushed back away from his computer, pointed at the screen as if he were Nicholas Cage in the first Ghost Rider movie, and finally stabilized his breathing. He yelled, "Who the – what the fuck is you?!"

Danny smirked, but the man wouldn't be able to tell that from his end. The disguise generator had given the teen the appearance of a gleaming white skeleton in a black robe, no lips in sight. The hood hung over the skeleton's head, and down the front of the robe, a slit revealed a realistic heart beating and bleeding inside a gleaming white ribcage – a little much in Batman's opinion, though maybe not as much as disguising him too in the form of a plain skeleton with a matching robe.

"What the fuck is you?" The man, Macho Cruz, screamed again. He backed up a little bit more as if he expected the skeleton to suddenly jump from the screen and grab him.

Danny snorted under his breath. "The name's Grimm. Now, before I start this meeting, wipe that stupid look off your face and come closer. I know my minions aren't the fairest in the land, but they're still prettier than your ugly mug and deserve a little more respect."

Macho Cruz looked the skeleton figure up and down for what seemed like the billionth time, clearly hesitant to do what he asked. However, after weighing his decisions, he figured pissing the supernatural creature off probably wouldn't be smart and scooted back a few feet, though he still didn't come back to the desk completely.

Danny nodded. "Yes. Perfect. Now, we can begin. You see, Cruz, I contacted you today because I'm in need of something you have."

Macho Cruz gave a wild look. "What the hell could I gives you?"

"Just some information." Danny shrugged. He inspected his fingernails, picking at some of the grime underneath them. "Do you happen to know another man by the name of Rusty Ruiz?"

The confusion Cruz was near tangible. He scratched at the top of his head with one hand and reached for something off-screen, his fingers coming back with a cigarette trapped between them. "Ugh, not that I knows of. I knows a different guy, though, and he would probably knows him. He's worked for almost every gang in Gotham, and he know everyone. But wait – the guy you's looking for – he is in Gotham, yeah?"

Though Danny's grin never wavered, the eyelid-less blink he gave on screen was enough to give away his exasperation. "Of course. Why the fuck would I call you otherwise?"

The greasy-haired man actually blushed. He averted his eyes from the screen, missing as Danny turned and gave Batman a quick wink, and turned back just as Danny did. Impatient as he was, Danny didn't give the man another second to reply.

"Well, are you going to give me the name of your friend or not?" Danny snapped. A contemplative look took over his face, and another grin creeped over his features. Looking back at Cruz, he said, "Actually, don't. I would love to have a reason to come over and beat it out of you."

That snapped Macho Cruz from his stupor. Paling, he quickly sputtered the name of his friend. Danny pouted as he wrote it down, and though he probably had plenty opportunity to tease the man further, he dismissed him and hung up. Neither Danny nor Batman spoke as the teen began to search for the user linked to the newest name they had.

While he waited, Batman decided to ask, "If you don't mind, can I ask a few questions?"

Half-absorbed in the commands flashing across his screen, Danny only shrugged. "Sure, as long as you don't mind if I ignore the ones I don't like."

Batman figured that was probably as good as he going to get for now. If he felt it was needed, he could always do some good, old-fashioned research on the kid later to get a better picture of him. He asked, "So, since I'm sure the babysitting thing fell through and you don't have another job, how are you paying rent?"

"No way in particular," Danny said.

Suspicious. That would probably have to be the first thing Batman looked into. "How about hobbies? You have any of those?"

"I have the Dark-Net."

"The Dark-Net is not a hobby."

Danny glared over his shoulder. "Yeah, well, neither is creating gadgets for warring crime, so you can kiss my ass."

"I'd rather not, but thank you."

"Hardy-har-har. You sound like my friends."

"You have those?" Batman quirked an eyebrow.

Danny stuck his tongue out for a second. "Asks the one dressed as a bat and is known for his antisocial behavior."

"Yet, I still have friends."

"And like I just said, so do I."

"And what do they do?"

"Lots of things." Danny smirked. "Like, sometimes, they go to Walmart with me, and we set off all the display alarm clocks at five-minute intervals." Under his breath, he chuckled and commented, "After five years, we still haven't been caught, but we might here soon. The security guard is getting really tired of our ninja shenanigans."

The smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of Batman's lips. "That sounds like fun."

"Yeah, it is." Danny's typing paused for a moment as he seemed to drift away, a content look on his face. The moment only lasted a second before he shook himself from his stupor. As if he hadn't just been feeling innocent emotions, he cast another smirk at Batman. "But from what I know about you, you wouldn't know fun if it hit you with a Batmobile."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"That's oddly vague."

"I'm just following your lead."

"Would you follow my lead if I led you into hell?"

"No. I only follow good ideas."

"Well, take it from everyone else: I don't have a lot of those, so maybe don't follow me at all."

"You may not have a lot, but by that virtue, that still means you have some."

Danny paused his typing and gave the Batman a look, one that seemed a little confused and maybe a little… intrigued? Hopeful? Batman couldn't tell. The Dark Knight asked, "Am I wrong?"

The teen thought for a second, his eyes going to the roof, before he shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

But not an outright no.

"I think your idea to save James Patterson was a good one."

Danny shrugged. "You would. I mean, that's kind of your thing, right? Saving people?"

"it seems like it's your thing too, to some extent."

"Hm." Danny seemed to struggle to find what to say next. He bit the inside of his cheeks thinking, but in the end, just shrugged and said, "Only sometimes, I guess. For those people who probably don't deserve it. I know what it's like. It's not fun."

Batman opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Danny pulled a new phone number up, the contact for someone named Fun Cash, and pressed 'call.'

Just like that, the conversation ended. Yet, for as short as it had been and as unspecific as Danny had been, Batman found one thing to be true: everyone who had said the boy was beyond saving was full of shit. Somewhere under all his bravado, Batman could see the beginnings of a good, if a bit mischievous, kid. He just hoped he could help to bring all that good out.

The computer screen flashed, and a new man appeared. This time, his (clean) dark hair had been slicked back, and he dressed like he had somewhere decent to go. Yet, for all the physical differences he and Macho Cruz had, their reactions to the figures on the screen were about the same: with a yelp, he jumped back and started mumbling the Lord's Prayer under his breath, as if that would somehow thwart the Egyptian god, Anubis.

Danny rolled his eyes, and though the look on his face said he knew the answer already, he asked, "Why does everyone freak out when I call? I mean, my presence is obviously a gift. Every last one of you sons of bitches should be kissing my ass."

This didn't do a single thing to break Fun Cash – or Ricky, as his friend called him – from his stupor, though he seemed wise enough to stop his incessant praying. Danny just glared and jumped straight to the chase. "Do you know someone named Rusty Ruiz?"

All at once, Ricky's face transformed from frightened into pissed off. Eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I know him. Son of a bitch sucker-punched in a bar once. I haven't gotten him back yet."

"Do you want to get back at him now?" Danny asked.

Ricky quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"

"Tell me where he is, and I'll take care of his punishment for you."

A smile curled onto Ricky's face. With a snort, he said, "Gladly. I can't tell you for sure that this is still true, but last I heard, he was hiding out in the Thunderbird Motel down by the harbor, hiding from some loan sharks and I think the Bat. He's a wanted man, so you might to get to him quick."

Danny glanced over his shoulder, tilting his head towards the Dark Knight in a manner that meant to ask whether he wanted to keep Ricky talking or if they were good to move on. Batman shook his head, which Danny read with chilling ease. Turning back to the computer, Danny said, "I'll find him first. I always do. Now, I would thank you for your service, but well, Ricky, you're just not worth it."

"Fuck – wait – you know my name?"

Danny's smirk returned in full force. "That's not the only thing I know about you, like how I know you're going to need a nightlight to sleep tonight. Your local convenience store should have one." Danny gave a little wave of his fingers. "Rest well, Ricky. Tata!"

With a quick click, Ricky was gone before he could say another word. Danny spun around on his heel, head held high, and said, "So, who earned the title of 'most badass motherfucker' today? Come on – say the name. You know you want to say it."

That itch to smile returned. Bats fought it down as he said, "Who? Ricky? I found his devotion to prayer in the face of evil inspiring."

"Ok, you cockroach, I think you've managed to overstay your welcome. How about I show you out the window?"

"So you can crush me with it? Not if my life depended on it."