| Wayne Manor

| 8:12pm

| On a Wednesday

Dick peeked behind every table, crevasse, and decorative vase in the hallway before the main staircase. To his exasperation, every search came up empty, which led him to the only logical conclusion that either he was going insane or the mansion was haunted.

Things had gone back to normal relatively quickly after that night, he even got to have a fun, really, (really) great Halloween night with John and Zatanna, fueled by sugar and alcohol. The first day of November— perfectly normal, there was nothing out of sorts!

But now… he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Why could he have sworn he just saw a shadow dart out from the corner, even though there was nothing there when he went to check? Why did he, not 10 minutes earlier, swear Alfred had whispered something to him, only for the butler to have been downstairs in the kitchen at the time?

And it had been happening all day! Dick ignored it the first few times, contributing it to glare from the sun or an ad unexpectedly playing from someone's phone. But it was dark out now and no one was in the house proper, they were all in the Cave, gearing up for patrol or reviewing cases.

Zatanna had even called him the other day, reaffirming that Gotham had not physically changed at all. She and John had quietly gone through parts of the city with a fine-toothed scry, finding that whatever perks were granted to Kafir by the deal they struck, it was not detectable by mortal means.

Which was more than a little comforting, because they had collectively decided to keep the whole debacle a secret from Bruce. It hadn't been hard to do as Zee barely set foot in Gotham unless requested, John had been joining the House of Mystery in traversing all sorts of other locations, and Dick, well, he wouldn't have been able to explain it even if he tried.

So yeah, maybe the manor was just haunted, it was pretty old! Sure, he'd been living there for more than a decade and never noticed, the four other occupants had also never noticed, but it was… possible?

Ahh, who was he kidding, that was a terrible explanation. Maybe he needed an exorcism? Time to give John a call next time he was on this plane of existence.

In any case, Dick pushed it out of his head for now, descending into the Batcave to join the others.

The matter did not stay out of mind for very long.

"Told you that's him."

The whisper came from behind just before Dick mounted his bike, prompting him to whirl back around, predictably finding an empty HQ. Bruce, Tim, and Jason were already at the entrance of the cave, securing their own vehicles, so Dick knew what the answer was going to be before he even asked it, but—

"B, did you just say something?"

"No…" The older man replied as all three pairs of eyes turned to focus on him.

"Right, of course not," Dick forced out a sharp, strained chuckle. "Are you sure?"

"I didn't say anything, Dick," Bruce repeated. His cowl was off at the moment, so the confusion etched into his brow was clear to see.

"Are you feeling ok?" Tim asked, his tone tinged with concern as Dick walked his bike up, still casting a glance or two at the cave behind them.

"Yeah, sorry, I thought I heard… Never mind. Long night yesterday, it's nothing," Dick offered, trying for a reassuring smile, especially when Bruce raised an eyebrow and started to look less than convinced. "I'm good, promise!"

"Ohhh, late nights? That couldn't be due to a couple of wizards showing you they're not just magic in the streets, could it?" Jason inquired, the accompanying suggestive wink causing Tim to turn slightly red in the face.

Pulling his cowl up, Bruce turned away, though it's not like either action could hide his grimace. It wasn't as if he was embarrassed or disproved of Dick's relationship in any way. Hmm, maybe in one way. Zatanna was wonderful; smart, loyal, and a worthy addition first to the Young Justice team then to the League… Constantine, on the other hand— meh.

"Uhh, for the sake of everyone here, let's just say… no comment!" Dick responded with a smirk, kicking his motorcycle into gear and tearing out of the tunnel.

Patrolling a section of the docks together, Nightwing and Robin had run into a gang of weapons smugglers operating in the dead of night. It was somewhat of a common occurrence, hardly anything they hadn't dealt with before…

Unfortunately, this time, things had gone slightly screwy.

Currently both tied tightly to some chairs, the vigilantes were sat next to each other, watched over by a couple of shotgun-toting henchmen. Their com-links and other gear had been removed and, as soon as the mob bosses finished their final count inside the warehouse, they were probably at risk of getting shot dead and dumped in the harbor.

Again, not necessarily rare circumstances, they'd gotten out of worse.

One big difference about this encounter— that, in retrospect, Dick really should've expected at this point— was the shrill, scratchy, disembodied voice that whisper-yelled in his ear.

"Heheh, are you in trouble?"

"What?" Dick blurted out, head on a swivel as he tried to find the source.

The goon pacing closer to them stopped and turned their way, lifting up his gun and taking aim. "What?" he barked out.

"You didn't just hear that?"

"Nobody's talking here but you!"

"'Wing," Tim called out, leaning in as best he could, looking just as confused. "You ok?"

"Do you need help?"

At that moment, before Dick could respond to anything that was directed at him, a two foot tall… gremlin came skittering out of the shadows to his feet. "Holy shit!" He cried out, chair skidding on concrete as he attempted to jump back.

"What's wrong with you?" The other goon demanded as he came sauntering over, hearing all the commotion.

"Seriously? None of you see that?!"

"See what?" The first bad guy spat out at the same time Tim asked, "N, what? What's going on?"

"If you want me to, just ask." The gremlin said, seemingly ignoring everyone else and their alarm, solely focused on the one human.

"'Want you to' what?" Also ignoring them, just purely from shock, Dick kept his gaze trained on the creature. It was mud brown, had tall pointed ears that probably constituted half its height, and two big fangs that dwarfed the rest of its teeth, almost like a sabertooth tiger. Based on previously acquired knowledge— it was definitely a demon. But why was he the only one who could see it? Maybe he actually was losing it…

Seeing his older brother freak out at thin air, eyes as big as saucers, the pit of worry in Tim's stomach only grew in size. He knew about Nightwing's run-in with Scarecrow not three days ago, and he couldn't help but think maybe the fear toxin was still in his system. Yeah, Dick had told them that the reports had been exaggerated and he was barely even dosed, but that very well could've been a lie.

"What the— quit playing games and shut up!" The guy who had already raised his gun cocked it, aiming it at center mass. "Unless you want me to shut your mouth for you? Permanently."

"Ugh, this stupid mortal talks too much! I'm gonna help you, be right back!"

As if the threat was never even made, Dick responded only to the gremlin. "Wait, how? What do you mean?"

"Final warning!"

"Hey, hey, you gotta calm down…" Tim tried to soothe, futilely tugging at his bonds, eyes nervously flicking back and forth between the trigger happy gunman and Dick. "Whatever you're seeing, it's not real!"

Letting out a pinched, nervous laugh, Dick snapped his gaze over to the younger hero. "Yeah, I wish it wasn't!"

"That's it!" But no shot ever came. To his partner's bewilderment, the man instead closed his eyes, shouldered his gun and stretched his arms high up to the sky.

When next he spoke, it was with a considerably deeper, somehow echo-y voice. "Bogrol, I am very busy, what is it you need?" Opening his eyes, now solidly red and as bright as a freshly-lit fire, the possessed man took a moment to scan his new surroundings, quickly landing on a familiar face.

"Oh!" His entire demeanor changed, going from agitated to clearly delighted. "Hello there, gorgeous. You missing me already?"

"Uh," Dick croaked, squinting up at the goon. If the red eyes and growly reverb hadn't immediately given it away, the surrounding blue aura manifesting into curled horns atop his head sure did. How was he seeing that? "Kafir?"

"In the flesh! Well— in his flesh… Ehh, same thing!" Kafir put his hands on his knees and bent down, addressing the little brown demon that had just reappeared. "Good job, Bogs! I'll take it from here, run on to Celsus now, ok? Tell him I'll be back shortly."

With a tinny yes, sir, it instantly faded away.

"Mikey, what the fuck?" The other henchman, having gotten over his stupor, shouted, taking his partner by the arm and yanking him to face him.

"Ah, yes," Kafir sighed, eyes narrowing as he searched borrowed memories for the man's name. "Brian, right? Listen, I appreciate all the bad you do, it's wonderful and filling, really! But I'm going to need a minute and I can't have you interrupting or alerting your friends in there so…" With almost supernatural speed, Kafir shot out an arm, grabbing the guy by the throat and lifting him a couple inches off the ground. The red in his glare seemed to bore into the man, and a second later, he was dropped to his knees, a blubbering, shaking mess.

"Your friend, Crane, inspired that one," Kafir informed, as he knelt down to untie his previous vessel, paying the other one no mind. He simply wasn't in the mood to talk to any more mortals tonight than he had to. "Effective, huh?"

"Umm, yeah," Dick hesitatingly agreed as he freed Tim, pointedly trying to avoid the increasingly distressed look in the younger's eye. "Thanks for the assist. We had it handled, though…"

"Oh, of course you did," came Kafir's retort, though it actually sounded sincere. "But anyway, what a wild coincidence 'cause I've been meaning to talk to you!"

"About wha-"

"N, what the hell is going on?" Tim cut him off. "Who is this? Did something happen to you? Are you still seeing things?"

"Ohhh… did I- did I not tell you guys about this?" Dick hedged as he rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, knowing full well he had absolutely neglected to say anything about his body switching adventures. "I can explain, just give me a minute, ok? Let me figure some stuff out real fast."

"So I went over that contract you wrote for the Faust kid," Kafir jumped back in, completely steamrolling over whatever clarification Tim was about to ask for. "And I gotta say— solid! I'm impressed, you really covered all your bases. Would you ever consider, like, a part-time gig with me? I'm pretty sure Celsus would be ecstatic!"

"Ahhh, whoa, hold on," Dick waved a hand to stop Kafir, tugging him off to one side. While flashing a quick thumbs up back at Tim, he continued, "Uh, no, sorry, I'm not really looking for a career in the soul trade. Wait, wait, what is going on?"

Kafir looked back at him like he thought he was slow. "… I was at home, Bogrol said he found something that needed my attention, I came right up, you were here—"

"No, no, not that! I meant— I've been hearing things all day, and then when your little demon pal showed up, no one else could see him! Now you're, like, glowing for some reason, I can see your horns—"

The demon lord stopped him there, putting a finger up. "You still see my form through this meatsuit? And you… are aware of my imps around the city? Fascinating…"

"Oh, is it? How am I doing that!?"

"I dunno."

Dick scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Ok, all right," Kafir snickered, rubbing his chin in thought. "Hmm… it's likely that your connection to the demonic ether, via me, is still active. I mean, no human has ever lived after we switched back, but that's my best guess. Not to worry, living in this realm? It'll wear off, just give it a week or so."

"Great… No, that's— awesome," Dick said with a heavy sigh. Well, at least it wasn't permanent. "So I'm just going to be seeing little imps run around for the next few days?"

"Mmhmm! As patron demon of Gotham, it would be remiss of me to not survey my territory, and they have been dispatched to— scout for potentialities. Ah, which reminds me…" Kafir paused, lifting a hand and upturning his palm. In one swift motion, he wiggled a few fingers and suddenly plucked something out of the air, much like a magician would perform a card trick. "Here, I made you an anti-possession charm."

Dick raised an eyebrow at the offered trinket. It was a small golden keychain and what looked to be an eyeball with a blue pentagram carved into the iris hung off the end. "Umm, I don't… want that. Zatanna gave me one already anyway, I think I'm set." He pulled at the collar of his suit, fishing out a necklace from underneath. It was a locket etched with various holy symbols, matching those of John's pocket watch.

"Oh, did she? Can I see that for a second?" As soon as Dick handed the necklace over, Kafir immediately tossed it off the dock, a sploosh accompanying its dip into the water.

"Wha- hey!"

"Oops! Look, I cursed this one myself," Kafir informed him, pressing the eye into his hands. "If you want to glamour it later, be my guest. Right now, your soul is, shall we say, recognizable to much of the underworld, that's why you're hearing so many of my servants. They're flocking to you like a beacon, they can't help it! This will help hide you."

"Ok, ok, fine!" Huffing out a breath, Dick reluctantly stuffed the keychain into a compartment. "Thanks…I guess."

"Don't mention it! It's dual functioning, by the way. Should you ever find yourself in need, just crush it, and it will automatically summon me. We won't switch, I would be taking over for a bit, but I'd be happy to lend a hand."

Furrowing his brow, Dick was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that he was maybe getting a bit too comfy with a lord of Hell. "Why?"

"You get into some fucked up shit and I get a little stir-crazy down there sometimes. You did what I do for a couple hours, I've literally done it for a thousand years, can you blame me?" Kafir shrugged, his face split into a grin. "Also, I find your body incredibly hospitable."

"Oh. Sure. Cool." How else does one respond to that?

"Well, I gotta go! Have fun with," Kafir gestured to all around them, "this. Sure about passing up on that contract job?"

"Heh, yeah. I'd really rather not." Dick smiled awkwardly, bidding the Horned One goodbye with a two-fingered salute.

"Shame… Whatever, I'll hit you up again when you die."

And with that, the goon he was inhabiting crumpled to the ground, abandoned.

After checking that the guy was indeed still breathing, Dick returned to Tim, who immediately requested he start from the beginning.

Before anything else could be said, however, the doors to the warehouse swung open, the remaining gang members walking out to find two of their own unconscious and their captives released.

"Hold that thought."

(The very next time the House of Mystery anchored itself to this world, it was said the numerous panicked apologies coming from its owner could be heard throughout much more than just one dimension.

How Bruce found his way in without an invitation, well… that would forever remain one of life's greatest questions).

A/N: LOL, poor Constantine, can't escape the Bat...

Thanks so much for reading!