Ch.14: Crash Your Party
The boy's eyes were impressive for sure. They sparkled brightly in the harsh lighting and the shade matched the day sky almost to a tee. It would be easy to get lost within them, should anyone look into them long enough. Yes, they were impressive, indeed. They were also totally wasted on this teen.
Jasper Dixon glanced down at the invitation in his hands before raising his eyes back up to the boy waiting patiently beside him. He'd seen the same invitation a few dozen times already tonight, and as it was his job, Jasper had ushered the people that had brought them inside to the event being hosted. The older man was obliged to send the youngster in on after all of the others, but damn it, Jasper was having a hard time getting the words out of his mouth.
It was tempting to send the raven-haired brat away, even if it would cause a ruckus from the boy. It'd be totally worth it, though. The teen had been within Jasper's presence for all of two minutes, and the older man was sure he had never met a ruder person in his life (that even included his hag of an ex-wife). Yes, it was tempting, alright, but...
With an inaudible sigh, Jasper waved the boy into the event, despite his temptations. The only thing keeping him from causing a scene was the thought of losing his job. Despite the objectifying looks many of the elitists gave him, his boss, Mr. Bruce Wayne, was a swell guy, if a bit flighty, and Jasper was happy to work for him. There was no reason to jeopardize his work for something so petty.
As the boy slipped inside Wayne Manor's door, his smile turned smug. Jasper bit his tongue from saying something he would later regret and turned to the next person in line.
Time went on, new patrons appeared, and Jasper forgot all about the boy with blue eyes. The crowd thinned as it got later into the night, leaving only a few "fashionably late" (how was it fashionable to be late?) stragglers for Jasper to deal with here and then. Overall, it was a boring and uneventful night, and when he grew impatient at his slowly ticking clock, Jasper had to remind himself that 'boring' and 'uneventful' were two things one would want for a party in Gotham City.
As midnight began rolling around, a handful of attendees- most of them being small families with young children -began leaving the event inside, despite the party being in full swing. As the partygoers left, their beloved darlings sleeping in their arms, Jasper politely smiled and wished them a good night. Many of the parents responded in kind, brightening Jasper's drear night the tiniest bit.
Jasper was just wishing a buzzed couple a good night when the manor's fire alarms began ringing. The couple glanced back confusedly, and Jasper did as well, his face scrunching up in mild concern. However, it shut off within minutes, so the old man thought nothing of the strange occurrence.
Only a few minutes after the fire alarm incident, though, there was a series of P-P-P-P-P-POWS from inside the manor, startling the elderly doorman as screams followed the strange sounds. Jasper's heart jumped into his throat as he wandered what had happened. Without thinking, the doorman hurried inside of the manor and down the hall in the direction of the ballroom. It did not occur to Jasper that he may very well be hurrying into a vicious scene; he simply had to see what had caused such fright in so many people.
The doors to the ballroom were thrown wide open. Even from down the hall, Jasper could see men and women on the ground, their arms flung protectively over their heads. The cries of terrified children echoed down the hallway, and murmurs of horrified adults settled into the background. Overtop of the voices, someone called, "Anyone seen the ditz hosting this fancy-shmansy shindig?"
The voice was harsh and mean. It and the glimpse of the attendees should've given Jasper enough incentive to turn tail and flee. However, Jasper foolishly continued to creep forward. He peeked in the open ballroom doors curiously. The figure Jasper saw should not have surprised him, but his eyes widened all the same.
The figure was of average height, but his form still came off as larger than life and imposing. The man sauntered about with confidence in his steps, the sound of his combat boots slapping against the floor bouncing off the walls. A chain jingled from the loops of the figure's jeans, and his leather jacket showed off his lithe frame. But the figure's most impressive attributes? The glaring, snarling wolf mask and the automatic shotgun in his hand.
For a moment, Jasper simply watched the form in slight awe. He gasped, however, when the figure turned suddenly. The armed man seemed to perk in the older man's direction just as Jasper ducked behind the ballroom doors again, hurrying back down the hallway as he pulled his ancient cell-phone from his pocket. As he raced along, Jasper punched in the numbers 9-1-1, just as he should've when he had heard the gunshots, and held the phone to his ear. He was almost to the door when the masked figure suddenly slid out of another hallway in front of him, pointing the gun in Jasper's direction.
In the older man's ear, a female voice said, "This is 9-1-1. What's your emergency?"
"Now, now. I can't have you running to the police, can I?" The figure asked, his voice sugary sweet and yet fatally serious simultaneously.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
Jasper opened his mouth, ready to plead with this masked figure for his life, but the gunman interjected before he could, saying in his artificially sweet voice, "Don't go begging please. Look; I'm a nice guy. Really, I am. Don't let my punk-ass demeanor fool you." The figure held up his hands in surrender, the gun dangling loosely from the young man's fingers. Casually, the figure continued, "Let's just go back to the ballroom, ok? You'll be ok if you just listen."
Despite the person in front of him wielding an automatic shotgun, Jasper felt his tense shoulders beginning to relax the tiniest bit. If he just did as the masked figure told him, he would live to see another day.
At his signal, Jasper began turning around and walking towards the ballroom.
"Sir? Ma'am? Is anyone there? If you're there, please say something if you need me to call the police."
Jasper stopped when the figure laughed darkly right behind him. The man rapidly whipped around, only to have the cool metal of the barrel of the gun pressed against his skull. Jasper looked upon the wolf mask with fear in his eyes, and though he couldn't see it, he knew the young man behind it was smirking.
The masked figure laughed again and said, "Ha-ha, I was just kidding. Fear my punk-ass."
Jasper opened his mouth to scream but-
POW!
Thump.
"Hello? Hello! Was that a gunshot?! Whoever is on the line, the police have been dispatched. I am tracing your call. I repeat, the police have been dispatched. They're on their way now."
(As the story goes, curiosity killed Jasper.)
Some Hours Before…
His smile sweet and patient, Danny waited to see if the aged man would catch that his invitation to Bruce Wayne's masquerade party was a fake. The boy didn't think he would- Danny had purposefully pissed him off to make sure the man would be frazzled when inspecting his invitation –but the thought of being caught kept hanging over his head, much in the same way a guillotine would. Danny refused to show his slight nervousness, however, keeping his face a perfect mask of arrogant amusement. The doorman glanced at the teen out of the corner of his eye, oblivious to the teen's slight, heavy inhale, and then the man looked back down at the invitation again. With an inaudible sigh, the doorman waved his hand towards the door without saying anything.
A smug smile adorning his expression, Danny slipped right in, his head held high and his steps as confident as the Man of Steel himself.
It was a short walk to the ballroom at the end of the hall. As Danny walked through the open double doors, the teen's sparkling blue eyes scanned the crowd around him. Danny didn't miss the many eyes looking him up and down, trying to gauge the new stranger amongst the sea of familiars. They scrutinized his fearless posture. Raised their eyebrows at his overflowing pride. Danny met their stares with a winning smile as he flowed eagerly into the crowd, acting as if he belonged there, even when it was obvious that he didn't.
But hey, at least it worked.
Many of the party-goers came up and spoke with Danny when they saw an opportunity, staking out the newcomer and wondering where he stood on the success scale. Danny just smiled charmingly back, answered their questions, and pretended he cared about what they told him. In reality, he would've loved to sock their ego-loving faces in- no one was allowed to have a bigger ego than Danny! No one! –but that would've hurt his cover just a lot. So, Danny played nice and vowed to destroy them all later.
It was almost midnight when the teen slipped away from another suffocating group of preps. All of them were playing professional victims at the moment, and Danny needed to breathe. Otherwise, his mouth would undoubtedly open, out would come a, "Aw, you poor, precious little snowflake," and adios charming, polite image he had conjured about himself. Sure, it'd be totally worth it, but again, he really needed to keep his image intact.
Danny wandered towards the snack bar, his eyes wandering to the scenery around him. There wasn't much to see. One could only take looking at men in expensive suits and women in lavish dresses for so long before it got old.
Just as the teen looked down at the high-tech watch on his wrist, Danny ran into another figure. The teen grunted, and though the collision had been his fault, he growled, "Hey, watch it!"
The other figure quickly whirled around to see who had run into him, and the boy cursed under his breath when he saw who the other was. Bruce Wayne began stuttering, "Oh, hey, I'm so sorry," but stopped before the entire statement could leave his mouth. Bruce's eyes widened at the sight of the teen, and Danny looked back up at him confusedly. The two's blue eyes remained lock for a few moments, trying to figure out the other, but the moment was broken when a woman called, "Brucie, is everything alright, darling?"
It took seconds for Danny and Bruce to shake everything off. Both replaced their inquisitive looks with easy smiles and bright eyes. Danny laughed nervously at the older man and said, "Oh, wow, I'm so sorry about running into you and snapping like that. It's not a very good first impression, is it?"
Bruce chuckled good-naturedly before replaying, "No, it's alright. These events can bring out the worst in people sometimes." The billionaire held out his hand for Danny to take as he said, "What's your name, young man? I'm-"
"Bruce Wayne." Danny interjected, reaching out and taking the offered hand with a strained smile. "Not to be snarky, but I don't think there's a news station in America that doesn't love to slap your darling face all over the television."
The playboy rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he replied, "I guess that's true, isn't it?"
Danny hummed as their hands dropped. "My name's Anderson, Mr. Wayne. I'm the son of the district attorney in Metropolis. A friend invited me along tonight, but I lost her in the crowd somewhere."
"Oh, I see. Maybe I could help you find this lovely lady if you'll just give me her name?" Bruce said, his blue eyes flitting suspiciously to the crowd before focusing on the teen in front of him again.
Yeah, how bout no, Danny thought as he shook his head and smiled bashfully. He held up his hands as he replied, "No, it's alright. I'll just text her to meet me outside. We need to be heading out anyway."
"If you say so." Bruce replied, once again reaching out to shake the younger male's hand. Danny suppressed a sigh as he took the hand once again as Bruce continued, "I hope you had a good time."
"Always. I can't recall Gotham City ever failing to amuse." Danny said, stepping away from the older man and slipping away. The teen was only a few steps away from Bruce when Danny thought he heard the billionaire mumble, "That's because you're the one causing the trouble." Danny whipped around, an indignant question on his lips. It died when he saw that Bruce Wayne had mysteriously disappeared.
Eyes wide and tensions suddenly high, Danny glanced at the crowd around him, searching for the billionaire. It didn't matter how long he looked, though. Bruce Wayne was gone, leaving a discomforted teen boy in his wake.
There was something wrong with that man, Danny decided. The man's comment was still ringing in his ears, and the look of recognition on his face was permanently burned into Danny's memory. There was also something eerily familiar about Bruce, now that the teen thought about it. But whom did he remind Danny of, for they surely hadn't met before? His memory wasn't the greatest with faces, but Danny was sure he would've remembered that encounter. So then, where and of whom?
His eyes alert for anything else strange, Danny began weaving through the crowd, heading for the double doors that would serve as his exit. He reminded himself that it didn't matter how uneasy Bruce Wayne made him. The billionaire was just another target that would soon just be another name to add to his ever-growing list.
The boy left the ballroom and entered the hallway. Danny walked down the hall, slipping quickly into the bathroom some yards away from the large room's double doors. He locked the bathroom door behind him, and without any hesitation, Danny began stripping himself of the suit he was wearing.
Within minutes, the expensive suit he had (naturally) stolen was tossed into the pristine, white sink, and Phantom's favorite leather jacket was fixed snugly over the teen's shoulders. The teen grinned at himself in the mirror, but the effect was hidden by the wolf mask covering his features. Phantom shrugged casually anyway, pulled a cigarette lighter from his pocket, and set the suit in the sink aflame.
As the clothes burned, erasing any of Phantom's existence with it, the teen himself picked a metal grate off the ground and placed it back over the air-vent he had snatched it from. The vent had proven to be a wonderful place for his 'work clothes.' The only trouble he had was sneaking them in, but even that was easier than normal. Everyone had been too occupied with preparing for the party that they hadn't noticed the teen that was dressed improperly for work.
Just as Phantom was fixing on the last screw for the grate, the fire alarms began going off. The teen was unfazed. He simply walked over to the sink, flipped on the faucet, and watched as the flames rapidly extinguished under the wave of water. The ashes crackled as the majority of them washed down the drain, gone as quickly as they had been made.
Once most of the evidence was gone, Phantom turned off the faucet as the fire alarms stopped ringing. He grabbed the AA-12 resting peacefully on the sink, went to the door, and quickly left the restroom.
As the teen wandered down the hallway to the ballroom again, Phantom bowed his head, hiding the snarl on his mask. The boy pressed the shotgun into his thigh, camouflaging it partially against his black jeans. Nobody noticed him as he entered the ballroom again, stopping a few feet from the double doors.
Phantom lifted his head the slightest bit, his eyes scanning the crowd. A smirk twitched at the edges of his lips as he suddenly pointed the AA-12 at the ceiling and shouted, "Everyone on the ground!"
P-P-P-P-P-POW!
Screams rang out from the crowd as everyone ducked, dropping to the floor as their arms flew over their heads to protect themselves. Children wailed shrilly. Phantom winced as the shrieks and the echoing gunfire pierced his ears. He knew he should've worn some sort of ear protection, but now wasn't the time to ponder his mistake. With the gun of the barrel still pointing up, Phantom strode forward, allowing everyone to catch a glimpse of him as he sauntered around. The teen's eyes attempted to find the billionaire hosting the party, but Bruce Wayne seemed to be nowhere in sight.
With a huff, Phantom shouted irritably, "Anyone seen the ditz hosting this fancy-shmansy shindig?"
No one answered, but then, what did Phantom expect from a group of terrified people?
The boy turned suddenly, prepared to re-scan the entire room again, when he caught movement from the door, followed by the resounding sound of shoes slapping against the ground. Phantom turned, racing for a different exit he knew would allow him to intercept the runner. As he disappeared out the door, he called behind, "I'll kill anyone that moves, got it?!"
The escapee turned out to be the doorman from before. It was easy taking the old man out, and fun too. People were always so trusting when their lives were in danger…
The slight intermission only lasted a few minutes. Soon, Phantom was back amongst the crowd he had left in a more pleasurable mood than before. The people easily sensed his new mood and found themselves terrified, their eyes locked onto the bloody boot-prints the figure left in his wake. The echoing gunshot that had come from the hallway ringed in their ears like a heavy warning, deterring any ambitious thoughts they harbored.
"Wow. You guys are great listeners, you know that?" Phantom called teasingly to the crowd. He stopped in the center of the room, one hand on his hip and his figure tall and proud. Phantom looked patiently around the large room again, searching keenly for his target. Casually, Phantom called, "Anyone seen Bruce Wayne? He's kind of the guy I'm looking for. I know a lot of you probably won't give him up, but if it helps, the faster I find him, the faster you get to go home. Come on guys, that's a deal! Especially since this is Gotham City, the only city in the United States where your head can be blown up simply because you weren't funny."
The teen's words echoed off the walls, bouncing back at him. Despite his promise, no one spoke up to give away the billionaire. Phantom's head swiveled around, looking for the person that seemed guilty of treachery, but it seemed that no one had any idea where Phantom's target was. The boy's fingers gripped his beloved weapon the slightest bit tighter as he called, "Seriously? No one knows where Wayne is? Come on! He was just here; this is his damn party. One of you little ingrates has to have seen him."
"Unfortunately for you, no one has. You just missed him."
Phantom froze at the familiar voice. His shock lasted for a mere moment before it was drowned out by rage. Phantom growled. "Are you kidding me?!" The masked teen whirled around, his AA-12 becoming trained on the unfazed figure on the other side of the ballroom. Phantom yelled, "This has to be some joke. There's no possible way for you to be here so fast. I left nothing for you to track; the cops were only alerted a few minutes ago. How the hell are you getting in my way again?!"
"Doesn't matter." Batman answered, a shining bat-a-rang in each of his hands. "I'm here, and you won't get away this time."
The masked teen let out a humorless laugh as he replied, "Won't let me get away like the last couple times we met? Come on, Bats. Stop kidding yourself. You should just hand Wayne over now, let me kill you, and then let me get on with my life. It'd sure be easier without you in it."
"If you wanted to kill me, you would've done so in Nashville. Instead, you let me live. I wonder why that is." Batman commented, his eyes narrowing at the teen.
Phantom's shoulders tensed up at the jab, but otherwise, the statement didn't seem to phase the masked teen. He hmphed in the Dark Knight's direction and replied, "I didn't think about it before, but if I'm going to kill you, I want you to be conscious for it. You shouldn't be allowed to die peacefully. You should suffer."
The Dark Knight rolled his eyes behind his mask.
With confused expressions growing on each of their faces, the Gothamites watched the confrontation unfold in front of their eyes. By now, they had all expected the Dark Knight to- oh, what was it that Batman did again? Oh, right –save them. Instead, Batman was standing there, looking a lot like…a frustrated parent? What? To make matters worse, the masked figure was actually responding to the treatment very much like a guilty child avoiding punishment would. When had the two, a hero and a villain, become close enough to form this kind of relationship?
(See, this was the sort of crap that kept people wary of Batman, even after all the crap he did for the world.)
Carefully, Batman suddenly took a step forward, and though it was obvious he saw it, Phantom didn't visibly react. The Dark Knight took that as a good sign. He said, "Look. Wayne is gone. You can consider your mission terminated. There's nothing here for you. Let these people go. You and I can go somewhere else. We can…talk."
"We are talking, dipshit."
"You know what I meant."
"Why would I do that, Bats? The only thing keeping you from literally knocking sense into my brain is-"
"I want Mama!"
"-the hostages…" Phantom finished lamely, his shoulders sagging as his eyes met the scene of a crying child to his side. Both he and Batman had stricken looks on their face as a man attempted to shush the young girl, futile as it was. The man's eyes kept glancing towards the two, imposing figures in the room, the expression in them pleading for nothing to happen. Under his breath, Phantom mumbled, "Shit…"
Why hadn't the teen been more sensitive to this? Phantom had heard some kids crying when he had shot at the roof, but when had he forgot that they were there, shushed by adults to avoid detection? Damn it, his mission hadn't been to scar a bunch of children! What was wrong with him?
Phantom took a deep breath to calm his thoughts before he reached out to the child with his powers. Though it couldn't be seen because of his mask, Phantom's eyes had become black, drowning out the comforting blue. Everyone in the room watched anxiously as the masked figure became eerily still. They had no idea what his deal was, but it couldn't be good, for Batman snapped, "Don't you dare."
"Chill out, Bats." Phantom replied, smiling at his work.
The girl, through her tears, had suddenly gone still, looking at the air in front of her curiously. The man that had been attempting to calm her before grew concerned when the girl's eyes began following something he could not see, but it turned to shock when the child giggled suddenly, her hand reaching out to touch something. Surprised, everyone gazed at the terrifying villain in surprised. Batman's shoulders relaxed.
"Kids are off-limits, remember?" Phantom said. The masked teen smiled for a moment, but he knew that now wasn't the time for distractions. Phantom forced his attention back on the Dark Knight. The masked teen began stepping backwards, his shotgun still pointed at Batman. The Caped Crusader watched with growing apprehension. Phantom called, "You know what, Bats? I'll give you this one. Bruce Wayne certainly isn't here. But…"
Batman tensed up, his grip on his bat-a-rangs growing tighter.
"…that doesn't mean I can't go find him, does it?"
The Dark Knight threw the projectiles just as Phantom finished his statement. The boy had already guessed Batman's move, however, and dodged out of the way just in a nick of time. The sharp blades flew right by the boy as he quickly fired his gun at the woman closest to him, eliciting a sharp scream of pain from her. Phantom quickly ducked out of the closest ballroom doors after, fleeing down the long hallway, laughter echoing in his wake.
Batman growled after the teen but went to the bleeding woman first. She was sobbing as she pressed her hand over the bullet wound, dark, crimson blood oozing between her fingers and staining her elegant dress. The Dark Knight directed another lady close by to help calm the panicked woman as he ripped up her bloody skirts and used them to make a tourniquet . The Dark Knight also wrapped the wound up, and just as he promised to stay with the woman until paramedics arrived, an entire squad of police officers suddenly stormed the building. Batman continued speaking to the injured woman until Gordon came up behind them. Batman left the woman with the commissioner and stormed off, racing to catch up with the teen he had promised to catch.
Batman looked all up and down the mansion for Danny, but he was nowhere to be found. The Dark Knight spent hours scouring Gotham high and low, but the teen had dropped off the radar faster than Dick could have said, 'Holy spooks, Batman!' There would be no finding Danny, either, until he decided to pop up again on his own.
Sighing, the Dark Knight rubbed his face tiredly before dropping his hands to his sides again. He turned on his heel, prepared to begin the long journey home, but stopped short when he saw another figure on the other side of the rooftop.
Danny waved, a teasing smile gracing his lips. The boy's wolf mask dangled from his throat.
A glare settled firmly on the Dark Knight's face, masking the surprise that he felt at the teen's sudden reappearance. With a quiet hmph, Batman sarcastically asked, "What? Couldn't find your target?"
If the jab annoyed the teen, he didn't show it. Danny merely shrugged as he leaned against the metal leg of a conveniently placed water-tower. The boy replied, "Well, I was kind of relying on you to lead me to him, but all you did was remind me of how much an unreliable prick you are."
Batman didn't reply to the jab. He didn't know how to combat it, truthfully. The hidden meaning behind Danny's words eluded the Dark Knight. It was much better to stay silent than say something stupid because of a petty dig at Batman's pride.
Besides, there was something suddenly…off about the teen. He looked the same, and there was no faking the devious grin Danny always wore- that blasted accessory of his. But while the teen looked the part, he didn't carry the same air around him, the same energy. It had been present when Batman had been facing him in the ballroom, but sometime during the break, it had all drained away. Despite his attempts to hide it behind his usual expressions, Danny looked exhausted.
The boy's sudden tiredness did not curb his perceptiveness, however. When Danny saw that Batman wasn't going to say anything on the subject matter he had introduced, the teen elaborated his earlier statement, saying, "See, I figured you'd immediately go to wherever Bruce Wayne was stashed away. So, I cloaked myself in invisibility and followed you, hoping to overthrow your plan of foiling my plan. Yes, that is a mouthful.
"For the first part of my plan, it worked! Following you is really easy when you're not trying to throw someone off your trail. Thanks, Batsy, for making that so damned easy." Danny said, smiling cheekily at the end. Batman didn't even blink in reply. The teen shrugged at his lack of responsiveness and continued, "Obviously, however, the rest of my plan did not as I hoped it would…
"I did not let my time go to waste, though. I started thinking about some things, figuring that maybe that I could figure out where you would stash someone of Wayne's importance. Don't know how, but, somehow, that led me to thinking about when I talked to him tonight. We didn't talk for long or anything, but he was…weird. (That's rich coming from me, I know.) When he first saw me, his eyes lit up like the fourth of July, or something poetic like that. And then, as I was leaving, he mumbled something a little…personal under his breath. It was like he knew me." Danny said carefully, looking for any sign that said that the Dark Knight was unsettled. There was none. Danny narrowed his blue eyes slightly, but otherwise, his amused expression did not change.
Picking and choosing his words, the teen continued, "But Bruce couldn't know who I am, right? My secret I.D. isn't public knowledge, and I'm sure I'd remember fucking Bruce Wayne's life before. So how could he possibly know who I am?" Tauntingly, the teen looked to the sky, as if in thought, and tapped his chin in a thoughtful manner. "And while we're at it, I wonder how you showed up and grabbed Wayne so fast. I mean, there's no possible way you could have known I was in the neighborhood, so how? It's not like you're Bruce Wayne or anything, right?" Danny's blue eyes came back to rest on Batman, twinkling in the dim light. The teen waited for some kind of response. Batman gave him none.
But that, in itself, was as good an answer as any.
Teasingly, Danny cooed, "Aw. Batsy, is there something you need to tell me?"
"There's nothing to tell." Batman replied. He confirmed nothing with his statement, but there wasn't a denial either. It was how Danny predicted the man would react. By confirming or denying nothing, it would feel like the Dark Knight was patiently listening to a child with a ludicrous story. Danny knew that was the Dark Knight's tactic, but still, he could not fend off the twinge of doubt in his stomach. However, there was no time for doubt at the moment, and besides, Danny had already gone and spoke his mind. There was no turning back now.
Danny squashed whatever uncertainty he felt by telling himself, Bats has a frikkin butler. If that doesn't scream 'wealthy billionaire,' I don't know what does.
"I'm curious, though." Batman commented, bringing Danny from his musings. When the teen looked carefully, he could see the Dark Knight tilting his head to the side as he asked, "What do you plan on doing with that assumption of yours?"
Another not confirmation but not denial. Stupid Bat.
Danny shrugged and looked back up to the sky. "Nothing, probably. I don't see a way of sinking your ship without you dragging mine down too. I made a mistake letting you know so much about me."
(That did not hurt, Batman told himself. That did not hurt at all.)
"I guess the only thing I can do now is mourn all my conspiracy theories." Danny sighed, beginning to step back away from his spot in the middle of the rooftop. Batman watched as the teen grew closer and closer to the edge of the roof, but he did nothing to stop him. The teen grinned knowingly as he continued, "Up until now, I was convinced that you're an alien sent from outer-space to gain our trust before the rest of your kind infiltrated the Earth. It kinda sucks that you're just a dude in bat-suit."
Batman rolled his eyes. Danny laughed a little as he turned, ready to jump, but he paused before he stepped off. He looked over his shoulder and said, "Oh, by the way, I stole a good ten thousand from Wayne for a project I'm working on. Sorry about that. Didn't know it was you."
"Wait, what?!" Batman called as Danny quickly hopped off the edge of the building, laughter echoing in his wake. It died off quickly, and when Batman raced to the edge of the building, Danny was gone. The Dark-Knight growled under his breath at the empty air and mumbled, "I knew I was missing some cash…"
"I feel like a traitor to my own cause right now…" Danny mumbled as he slipped in through a window awkwardly, closing it behind him quietly when he was finally on his feet again. Danny turned around, breathing a deep sigh and brushing off the grime on his clothes. The boy looked around the apartment he had snuck into, his stiff shoulders unwinding as he relaxed. Unwittingly, a relieved but hollow smile began to twitch at the corners of his lips. Danny said, "Hello hideout. How's it going?"
There was no response. Heck, there wasn't even an echo. The walls of the one-room apartment were too close to allow it. Danny's voice fell flat as soon as he finished his comment. Danny was used to the silence, though. He visited enough for his senses to grow accustomed to the quiet.
But that didn't mean he had to like it.
Humming to the tune of a song he had heard on the way from Gotham, Danny paced around the old apartment, kicking up the dust that lingered. The boy's blue eyes looked this way and that slowly, his brain conjuring up phantom images (phantom! Ha!) of the way things used to be. Danny could still remember clearly the tables lining the walls, the mattress stuffed underneath one of them. The cluttered mess of equipment on the tabletops, and the light of the holograms flashing across the walls. A distant voice saying, "Danny, I have a new job for you."
Danny suppressed the grin that threatened to split his face in two. "Not anymore, Batsy."
The teen continued humming as he wandered to one of the bare, empty corners. Danny pressed his back against the wall, sliding down slowly to the floor. The teen made a face, and his nose crinkled at all the dust as he hit the ground finally, but otherwise, he did not make a complaint. Danny let another sigh, allowing the still atmosphere to blanket his mind and slow it down.
For some time, the teen just sat and let his thoughts wander aimlessly around, skipping between his ideas and opinions without any sensible pattern. The corners of Danny's lips twitched up, then down, before pulling up again. At some point, the teen mused, I miss this place.
It was strange. Most others would despise the place where so many things became royally fucked up for them, but Danny just couldn't muster up the feeling. Here, all of the teen's anger and hate became drowned out, watered down, and the teen could only blame it on all the joyous memories he harbored from the apartment. Oh, how Danny missed the old days, when everything was so complicatedly simple.
Oh, how Danny missed the Dark Knight, despite all of the anger he harbored for the man.
Danny rested his head against the wall behind him as he thought, remembering all of the things that used to be: Batman slipping in through the window, the fights they took part in, the older man's emotionless teases, his probing questions, the casual "I'll see you next crisis." The two weren't very dynamic, Danny thought with amusement, but damn it, if their relationship wasn't special in its own, unique way. For that, Danny found himself treasuring it the most, its place in his heart only rivaled by that of his love for his two friends. There was not one person, no past mentor, that could ever hope to live up to the Dark Knight's place (not that they cared).
The teen mused the good times, a reminiscent and happy smile gracing his face. His humming slowed, and Danny remained uncharacteristically still. There was no way to tell how long he sat in content quiet, but it didn't last nearly long enough.
Soon, the teen's smile lowered into a frown, and his humming died off. Yet another sigh left his lips, and Danny raked his fingers through his tangled, raven locks in a frustrated manner.
As much joy as it had brought him, the Dark Knight's attitude had been precisely the reason things had gone down the sparkling, porcelain toilet of life. Before Batman, no one had expected anything other than chaos from him. Nobody. Not even Sam and Tucker. (In fact, his anger-inducing personality was what they loved in the first place.) They didn't expect him to give them anything in return for their patience and teachings and tolerated his presence until it could no longer be tolerated. It's what made going through life so easy, and why Danny had never been able to make connections with others very easily.
With the Dark Knight, though, he expected Danny to contribute to their collaborative effort (as forced as it had started out). He expected the teen to give some things up so they could build a real relationship, not just some half-assed partnership that wouldn't last the year. Danny almost wanted to say that it wasn't fair of Batman to make him give so much, but by working with the teen, Batman had to give up things too. He couldn't be as strict or as harsh with the teen as he was with others. Batman knew he had to give the teen leeway, that he had forgive his offenses more than should humanly be possible. Danny would resist change, otherwise. But Batman also knew he couldn't be completely lenient, either. If he did, Danny would just disregard him. Batman had to find a balance between what he knew was right and the pace Danny would change at, and the man did so without complaint. The Dark Knight was willing to give all he had, so long as Danny was too, and Batman had been completely sold that the teen would.
Damn it, if that didn't make it hard not to adopt the man's stupid morals! Seriously, letting someone down that was so convinced of Danny's nonexistent, good heart was hard. That's why Danny gave in so many times to the Dark Knight. That's why he fucked up Sam's and Tucker's lives so bad. That's why he started killing in the first place. Danny had to show he wasn't a good person; he had to show the Dark Knight that he was done giving back.
Danny had to show that Batman meant nothing to him.
And hey! Danny was doing a good job of convincing people of his apathy. Sam and Tucker never worried about him wavering anymore. The convicts of the world practically bowed to his unholiness. The general public was terrified of his existence, and Batman was on the hunt to find him and ship him off to prison. The only person in the world not convinced of Danny's act was Danny himself. For that, the teen hated Batman just as much as he loved him.
No one had to know that, though, and Danny didn't have to acknowledge it. He could keep going on with his parade, pretending while not. No one would be the wiser to his game, so long as Batman never tried to give again. And that, Danny was assured, would never come to pass.