Gotham was quiet. It always felt like that when he was away.

Damian was always looking for a sparring partner, eager to test his skills against hers, though their fights felt more like challenges than anything else. Stephanie liked to hang out, in and out of their gear, filling the silence with her jokes and chatter. Barbara gave her lessons, helping her grasp words and things that seemed easy to everyone else. Barbara was patient, never like Father, who demanded perfection. She was kind, but still, it wasn't the same.

Ammon was gone again. She missed him. He hadn't been living at the manor for months, but when he was in Gotham, he always made time for her. But now he wasn't here. Stephanie said, "The dummy got his heart broken," and that he needed to blow off steam. Cassandra didn't really understand what that meant. A heart couldn't break like a bone. But Ammon was tough. He had to have been in a tough fight. Gruelling. That was a word she knew.

All she knew was that Poison Ivy should stay away from Spoiler for her own good. Relationships were weird, and she couldn't fully understand them. But when you cared about someone, you accepted their weirdness. Stephanie said that about Tim. And Ammon was weird, too, but Cassandra didn't see it. He was kind, safe, nothing like her father. He made everything better just by being around. He understood her in a way no one else did.

She moved through the gang of Mad Hatter's goons with ease, each strike calculated, swift. They were nothing. Weak. She twisted and flipped, her movements fluid and precise, but there was no joy in it. It was work, efficient and mechanical.

"On your left." His voice cut through the noise, deep and monstrous, yet warm and familiar. She didn't flinch. Not from him. Not ever.

Ammon — Freak — appeared from the shadows, a silent guardian as he launched forward, kicking a thug away from her. He moved with a grace that matched her own, flowing from one enemy to the next, fists flying. Together, they were unstoppable. Effortless. The fight was over before it began.

The last of the gang fell, and before she could think, she was moving toward him. She reached for him, sinking into a hug without hesitation. His arms wrapped around her in return, strong and safe, and she pressed closer, burying herself in his warmth.

"Missed you too, Orphan," he chuckled, his voice returning to its normal tone, soft and comforting.

She didn't need to say anything. He understood, as he always did.

"Uh, are we—" one of the still-conscious thugs mumbled, confused by the sudden shift in tone.

"Shut the fuck up," Freak growled, his voice dipping back into that deep monster register.

Cassandra didn't laugh, but she felt lighter. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with all the things she couldn't say but knew he understood. It was a feeling that made everything else—Gotham, the villains, the strange confusion of her own emotions—fade into the background.

With Ammon back, Gotham didn't feel so quiet anymore.

Ammon leaned against the crumbling wall of the Gotham alley, letting his breath even out as he watched Cassandra work. She was a blur of movement—fast, efficient, and lethal in a way that was almost poetic. He was glad to be back in Gotham, where every corner felt like a ticking time bomb and every night was a new fight to survive.

LA had been… something. The sun, the Devil's company, and all the chaos that came with living between Heaven and Hell. His weird but surprisingly good relationship with Lucifer and Maze felt like a fever dream. Family, sort of. He hadn't expected to get close to Elaine either. The girl had fire, strength that reminded him a little of himself, lost in a world she never asked to see. And then there was Ella. Sweet, kinky Ella, who somehow managed to keep him distracted in all the right ways, though it was more lust than love. It wasn't what he needed—something real, something steady—but it had been fun. Comforting in its own way.

But even as things settled in LA, his mind kept drifting back to Gotham, back to his team, and back to Cass. He found her sywelt form cutting through the goons like they were nothing and to be fair compared to her, they were just that.

He didn't need to be here, but he wanted to be. She was always easy to be around, never demanding more than what he could give. And maybe that was why he couldn't stay away. She never made him feel like he had to be something else, something more.

'We're close,' Cassandra said in the way only he could pick up, even with them both masked they could still communicate. She pointed toward the dimly lit building ahead, this goons were practically a 'this way ahead' sign. He followed her gaze to a small figure moving inside—Mad Hatter, skulking around like a rat in a maze, his crooked top hat barely visible in the shadows.

His jaw clenched. He hated this guy. Hated how he targeted young women, manipulating their minds until they were just dolls for his twisted fantasies. This time, the poor girl was sitting on a bench, oblivious, her eyes distant and dazed, already under his spell.

'Freak,' Cass signed to him quickly, her eyes serious. She wanted to go in now, fast and hard. But Ammon held up a hand, shaking his head.

"I got this," he whispered, moving quietly around her. He could see the doubt flash in her eyes, but she stepped back, letting him handle it. They trusted each other. That's what mattered.

I approached slowly, hands up, trying to keep his movements non-threatening as he got closer to the Hatter. The little man jumped when he saw me, his pale face twisting into a mix of fear and fury. "Stay back, creature!" Hatter snarled, clutching his cane as though it were a weapon. "I've found her. My Alice. You won't take her from me."

"She's not Alice, Jervis," He said calmly, his voice dipping low but gentle. "She's just a girl. You know this. She's not what you're looking for."

Hatter's grip tightened on his cane, and Ammon could see the flicker of confusion and sadness in his eyes. It was almost pitiful, the way his delusions consumed him. He didn't like the guy, but he couldn't bring himself to hate him, not truly. Not when he was this broken. Broken in a system that didn't have the resources to help him, not when fuckers like Joker, Riddler and Penguin ate away the Gotham's meagre resources.

"Look, man," I continued, taking another cautious step forward. "You don't want to do this. I get it. You're looking for something, someone. But this isn't the way. How many Alices have you gone through," My disgust at my own words was like bile in my mouth, but I pressed on making him admit the various girls and young women he targeted weren't his Alice.

Hatter's expression softened, just a touch, the manic glint in his eyes dimming. "I just… I just want to find her. My Alice."

I nodded, keeping my voice even. "I know. But she's not here. She's not coming. You're hurting people, Jervis. Let's just walk away from this. It doesn't have to end like this."

For a moment, it looked like Hatter might lunge, but then his shoulders slumped, and the cane fell from his hand. The woman on the bench blinked, snapping out of her daze, confusion crossing her face. Hatter's eyes welled with tears as he stared at her, his delusion cracking.

I moved quickly, securing the cane and making sure the woman was okay before turning back to Hatter. "We'll get you some help," He said softly, more to himself than the villain. "This city is brutal, but it's not beyond saving."

Hatter nodded weakly, allowing himself to be led away by Orphan, who watched me with something unreadable in her eyes—maybe pride, maybe something else entirely. But for now, it didn't matter. They'd done what they set out to do, and no one had to get hurt.

As they walked the dazed woman to safety, I caught Cassandra's gaze again. She didn't say anything, but the small, grateful smile she gave me was enough. He was back, and for now, that was all that mattered.

Returning to the Bat-Cave felt like walking into an old, familiar mess. The dim glow of the monitors, the hum of the Batcomputer, and the faint smell of coffee lingering from Alfred's ever-present pot—it was home in the strangest way. Cass and I had dropped Mad Hatter off with the GCPD, and now all that was left was to get the inevitable reunion over with.

Of course, the second I walked in, it was like a spotlight turned on me. Stephanie stood by the comms station, arms crossed, looking about two seconds away from scolding me into oblivion. Barbara was perched in front of the Batcomputer, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips, and Alfred—good old Alfred—was hovering with a tray of tea, his brow knitted in that concerned way only he could pull off.

"Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence," Stephanie said, voice dripping with a mix of relief and irritation. "Long time no see, Freak."

"Hey, Steph," I muttered, offering a half-hearted smile as I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck. I could already feel the questioning and the scolding coming my way, and I wasn't sure which was worse.

"You look like you've seen better days, Master Ammon," Alfred chimed in, his tone gentle yet firm. "Perhaps we can start with a cup of tea, and then you can explain what possessed you to disappear like a ghost?"

I nodded, taking the tea with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Alfred. I missed your brew. Gotham doesn't quite run without it."

"Oh, don't think you're charming your way out of this," Stephanie interjected, her eyes narrowing. "You can't just up and leave without a word. What the hell, Ammon? You ran off, left us all worried, and didn't even have the decency to call."

"I had my reasons," I said, trying to sound casual but wincing at the sharpness in her voice. Spoiler was never one to sugarcoat anything, especially when it came to me. "Needed to clear my head, you know? LA was… a change of pace."

"A change of pace, he says," Barbara piped up, her eyes glinting with mischief as she spun her wheelchair toward me. "What's the matter, Freak? Gotham's rogues not enough for you, so you went to find some Hollywood drama instead?"

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of tea to buy a moment of calm. "It's not like that. I just needed some space after… well, you know."

Barbara's smirk widened, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper, "Oh, we know. Heard you've been busy in more ways than one. Pamela Isley, huh? Really, Ammon? She's hot, even I can admit to that, but wow, talk about playing with fire."

"Babs!" I spluttered, nearly choking on my tea. "Do we really have to go there?"

Stephanie snorted, though she didn't look amused. "Yeah, we do. Why didn't you tell me, huh? I thought we were besties! You could've at least given me a heads-up that you were hooking up with Gotham's greenest femme fatale." I really have to make sure she doesn't find out that Jason knew before anyone else.

"Because I knew you'd react like this," I shot back, exasperated but unable to keep a small grin from forming. "I wasn't exactly in the mood for a lecture on bad decisions, especially when I was already making them."

"Please, you're a walking bad decision," Stephanie huffed, though her posture softened, and I could tell she was just glad I was back. "Still, you could've told us. We'd have your back, no matter what."

Alfred cleared his throat, stepping in like the peacemaker he always was. "Master Ammon, regardless of what led you to leave, it's good to have you home. But do try not to give us all heart attacks next time, hm? I daresay my nerves are not as young as they once were."

"Thanks, Alfred," I said, the warmth in his voice melting away some of the guilt I'd been carrying. "I won't vanish like that again. Promise."

"You'd better not," Stephanie added, giving me a playful shove. "Next time, just tell us when you're screwing around with a supervillain."

"And tell us all the juicy details," Barbara added with a wicked grin. "Or, you know, don't. But we'll find out anyway."

I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "God, you guys are the worst."

But as they laughed and teased, I couldn't help but feel the weight lift off my shoulders. This was why I came back. No matter how messy or complicated things got, these people were my family. And maybe, just maybe, being back in Gotham was exactly what I needed.

Omake

The Watchtower was usually a place of calm, a sanctuary high above Earth where the Justice League planned, strategized, and dealt with threats too big for any one hero. But today, it was a stage for something entirely different: my ego getting bruised.

"You know, it's kind of insulting," I said, crossing my arms as I faced Wonder Woman and Superman. "I'm a half-demon with enough raw power to take you both down. I have a demon form that literally looks like it haunts nightmares, but you two don't even flinch."

Wonder Woman glanced up from her coffee, giving me a patient smile. "We're not scared of you, Ammon. You're too kind-hearted to ever turn truly evil."

"Too kind-hearted?" I echoed, trying to keep the indignation out of my voice. "You guys realize I could go full dark side if I wanted to, right?"

Superman gave me a comforting pat on the shoulder. "We believe in you, Freak. You're one of the good ones." He looked smug as he said that.

"You're missing the point!" I groaned. "I'm trying to show you how dangerous I could be!"

Wonder Woman chuckled softly, as if I'd just told her a cute joke. "Ammon, it's sweet that you think we'd be scared, but we've seen your soul. You're not like other demons."

I clenched my fists, determined to prove them wrong. "Alright, you asked for it."

I let the shadows unfurl, my body morphing into its demonic form. My skin darkened to an inky black, shadowy tendrils writhed around me, and my eyes burned crimson. My form towered, monstrous and nightmarish, exuding an aura of terror that could freeze the blood of any mortal.

Except, apparently, these two.

Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow, completely unimpressed. "Is that it?"

"Really leaning into the theatrics, huh?" Superman added with a smirk, taking a sip of his own coffee.

I snarled, baring my fangs and letting out a low, guttural growl that reverberated through the Watchtower. The lights flickered, and the air chilled. This was the stuff of horror movies.

Wonder Woman just stepped forward, eyes calm and unblinking. She reached up and, to my utter disbelief, flicked me on the nose.

Flicked.

The mighty Amazon warrior flicked me on the nose like I was a misbehaving puppy.

"Cut that out, Ammon," she said with a warm smile. "We know you're not a threat."

I blinked, momentarily thrown out of my demonic mindset. "You're kidding me."

"You're like a big, misunderstood puppy," Wonder Woman added. "A shadowy, demonic puppy, but still a puppy."

Before I could react, the sound of footsteps approached. Flash zipped into the room, eyes wide as he took in my nightmarish form, the flickering lights, and the chilling aura that filled the room. He took one look at me, his jaw dropping in terror.

"NOPE," Flash said, turning on his heel and speeding right back out the door in a red blur, leaving only the faintest echo of his panicked shout behind him.

I watched him go, feeling both vindicated and utterly deflated. "See? Flash gets it."

Superman chuckled, clapping me on the back hard enough to make my shadowy form flicker. "It's good to have you back, Freak. Demonic outbursts and all."

Wonder Woman smiled, offering me another pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Ammon. We know you're scary when you want to be."

"But not to us," Superman finished. "Never to us."

I let out a defeated sigh, my demonic form dissolving back into its regular state. "I really need to hang out with more easily terrified people."

Batman with his back to us, as he tapped away on the supercomputer, "Tell me about it."

A/N - Published 2024/09/12

Yo, thanks for all the support shown to this story as always.

I really didn't want Ammon to linger in LA for long. Though I was tempted to keep him there longer to get to know Elaine, but figured it didn't need to be set there, I have plans for Elaine and will they come to fruition with my track record, who the eff knows.

Though considering it was asked, yeah she'll be on the path to Godhood, with the capital g, with influences of the devil's stepson being peppered in.