"But… that's not possible. I held his…" Superman cuts off, swallowing. "The DNA test came back positive."

"I know. But this is him." I manipulate the screen in my hand, pulling up the translated pages onto the screen. I'd highlighted the text of interest; the ones that actually screamed Bruce.

I then found myself moving of another's accord, and I believe there may be much I don't remember.

This belt uses things of sorcery, of magic. The strange metal bats, the pebbles of fire and ice; they've saved my life.

No language can surprise me.

An organization named the Black Glove try to sacrifice me to Barbatos, the God of Bats. Was I not Barbatos, in another time?

The chronicles in the papers are written by Bruce, though it's obvious he doesn't remember who he is. All he has are faint impressions that he encloses with questions, reiterating time and time again that he doesn't know why he does the things he does, why he's even trying to put it into words.

He's trying to communicate with us through his own forgotten memories. I can't help but be impressed by the man, even with the frustration he's causing.

"We've been tracking his progress through what he's written," Tim continues, taking the screen from me and pulling up a timeline. "He wrote about Vandal Savage's beginning, all the way back to the fall of Neanderthal. He described the fall of Babylon, Arthur's conquest in Saxton, Europe, the Seljuk Turks capturing Baghdad, the Middle Ages, Salem, Massachusetts… There are a couple more hints that we weren't able to connect to time periods out of context. The time this was written dates around the mid-1600s. From his descriptions of the ship he seems to be pirating, we suspect it might have something to do with Blackbeard."

"Even if this is him," Wonder Woman intervenes, skeptical, "shouldn't there be an instance of him existing in this time period?"

"Not necessarily," I respond. "The time jumps are random and can range from fifty to hundreds of years at a time. We know he visited 1939, so his next stop could be from now to two hundred years from now."

"And it is him," Tim insists, bringing up another image on the screen. He'd been so smug when he came and found out he was right. Of course, he'd already known, and finally explained why he had been so sure.

A painting of Bruce, labeled "Mordecai Wayne" pulls up on the screen. There are various noises of surprise around us as they recognize the man in the painting.

"Athena's mercy," Wonder Woman breathes.

"Okay. So it's him. But how do we expect to find him if we don't know when he'll appear or for how long?" Green Lantern asks, arms folded. "He doesn't have his memories so it's unlikely he'll be able to find a way back to the present on his own."

"We're going to send a team after him," Tim replies, looking to me briefly for my nod.

Flash, Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Hawkman and Aquaman immediately volunteer, nodding to themselves. Only Hawkgirl and Zatanna, the only other occupants, don't volunteer.

"We already have a team in mind," I speak up over the chatter. They're the world's heroes, but man can they talk. "Superman, Green Lantern and Phantom."

"Where is Phantom?" Flash asks, eyes darting around. "And why him?"

"Green Lantern has experience with time travel and Superman can deal with many of the dangers documented in Bruce's writings. And Phantom has mentioned his own time travels. He even alluded to the idea that he could do so again. He's going to actually do the traveling."

I pick up where Tim leaves off. "As for where he is, he should've been here twenty minutes ago."

Wonder Woman folds her arms in distaste. "Are we sure he's the best option? He can act like a child."

"So can the Flash," Green Lantern points out. Flash protests weakly at the jab. "But I agree he's the best option."

During his time on the League, Phantom had proven himself time and time again; though his young appearance and juvenile humor still had figures like Wonder Woman, Doctor Fate and Hawkgirl doubting his abilities. I, personally, had only interacted with him as Batman, and that was only once or twice for orders. I'd never fought with him.

But I knew what everyone else had told me, and I knew my mentor. Batman had trusted him; had thought him competent. After all, he was the one who had recommended Phantom for permanent membership on the Justice League, even if he wasn't around to see him inducted. If Batman trusted the ghost, so would I.

"Recognized: Phantom. A-1-7."

"Sorry I'm late!" he cries, flying so fast out of the Zeta Beam he's almost a blur. He joins the other heroes, smiling apologetically. "Trouble on my way to the Beam. What's up?"

"Mission to retrieve Batman through time," Flash sulks, put off by the fact that he isn't invited on the rescue mission. Phantom's eyes visibly widen, darting to me.

"I thought…" he begins weakly, gesturing towards me. I understand his malformed question. I'd asked Phantom soon after returning to Gotham to check the Ghost Zone for a Bat-ghost. Two days later, he'd come back and said he'd used a ghostly artifact and confirmed Batman had not been revived as a ghost.

"New information has come to light," Superman supplies before I can, gesturing to the screen. "We believe Batman is alive, and traveling through time."

Tim picks up, "We've called you here to track him down, along with Superman and Green Lantern." He looks between them, offering a smile. The two are easily some of Phantom's closest relations on the team; both being a mentor of sorts and taking time to personally train him. Phantom came to the Justice League with plenty of skills, but he still had a lot to learn about being a world hero, being on a team, and public appearances. "Batman's archives on you suggest you have a method for time traveling."

Phantom's hesitant smile drops and he furrows his eyebrows, looking between Tim and I. "How did he…" He pauses, and the confusion drops off his face. "Oh, right. Batman, duh." I resist the smile at Phantom's words. "But I never said I could."

I can feel Tim's mood darken beside me. "You can't time travel?"

Phantom scoffs, waving away the possibility as if it were a fly. "Of course not. I have an ice core, not a time one. Didn't Batman make a list of my abilities?" He pauses with a thoughtful look, studying the pages on the screen and the crude timeline Tim and I'd compiled. No one interrupts him.

Phantom, from my deduction and Batman's, is a genius who refuses to believe it. I'd read all the notes Batman has on him, and he believed-believes-Phantom had been considered dim so long he vehemently believed it himself. If you actively rely on his intelligence, Phantom will fold, but if you give him opportunities and leave it alone, he won't disappoint.

The heroes are silent as Phantom observes our board of evidence, opening his mouth when he comes to a conclusion. Before he can speak, however, his eyes land on the name underneath the painting. "Wayne?" he repeats, instead of whatever else he was going to say. His gaze returns to the painting, which he'd dismissed before. Recognition flares in his neon green eyes. "As in, Bruce Wayne?"

Tim sighs, impatient. "Yes, Bruce Wayne. Now you know Batman's identity. Congrats. What were you going to say?"

Phantom raises his eyebrows at Tim's tone. "Okay… Well, I was going to say there's a thing I know of. It's called the Infa-map, and it's a map of the Infinite Realms. It can take you wherever you need to go." He gestures at the timeline. "It can take us to Batman."

Sensing one, I ask, "But?"

His signature smirk crosses his face. "But Bruce Wayne! Who knew?" He launches higher in the air, flying over to the Zeta Beam. "I'll get the map; I just have to go grab it. Give me a couple hours."

He enters the Zeta Beam, disappearing in a flash as it announces his departure. I glance at Tim's frown. "What's your problem?"

He glares at me. "Phantom? That's who we're relying on?"

Superman folds his arms. "I can think of no one better to rely on."

I grin at Tim. From the uncomfortable expressions of the Justice League, I can tell they're disconcerted by seeing someone under the cowl smile. "Suck it up, Red. You were right."

A small smile finally pulls at his lips. "Yeah, I was."

I knock on Dani's door, aware she might kick me. Batman has a busy job, but Dani's never been one for the benefit of the doubt.

When she doesn't respond, I push open the door. The room has barely changed since she had moved here. In fact, the only change wasn't even a real change. Alfred had taken her out to get clothes, but she hadn't cared and refused to cooperate, so Alfred took her measurements and bought twenty of everything.

The bags are piled up on the table and chairs. There's only one that's been rifled through; a pair of shorts and a t-shirt much like she always wears.

With this new "Batman" running around, brutally killing villains and henchmen alike, and the Bruce Wayne look-alike accidently being kidnapped, I'd barely seen her except for the joyride in the Batmobile and when she found the jewelry box (which was actually ingenious on her part). I was letting Tim and Damian run the show tonight, though (not together, of course) and I was finally free to spend some time with Dani.

Dani's in the window, sitting on the ledge and swinging her legs as she watches the sky. She hasn't noticed me-or is ignoring me-with headphones in. Damian, in a rare instance of kindness, had given Dani one of his "old" iPods, filled to capacity with music. It was one of the only things she'd accepted so far.

"Do you even sleep in this bed?" I ask to start the conversation.

She sighs and pulls out the headphones. "No, it's too soft. I sleep here." She pats the window seat, as if I hadn't already seen the wrinkled blanket and pillow and reached that conclusion.

"Sorry I haven't been around," I apologize when she doesn't say anymore.

She shrugs. "You're busy. I get it."

I'm surprised by her response. Maybe she is one to give the benefit of the doubt. She doesn't even look like she had to force it. The expression I see is more of… resigned acceptance.

"Are you okay?"

She withdraws from the window, turning to me, considering my question. Then she shrugs. "Yeah."

I regard her silently.

She rolls her eyes, annoyed. "Look, I'm not like you guys. I don't have dead family or any other traumatic death experience. I'm not an assassin struggling with my conscience. The closest thing I've come to a crisis is an identity crisis, and that barely counts." She brushes aside her bangs, something I'd placed as her annoyed fidget. "Don't go looking for me to break. I am okay."

I exhale a breathy laugh, leaning back and hooking my thumbs through my jean's belt loops. "Sorry. Let me rephrase the question. What's wrong? I can't say I've found staring mournfully out the window to be a carefree hobby."

"Yeah, you haven't," Dani accuses, rolling her eyes again. "Stop trying to turn this into a moment."

"Jeez, Dani," I groan, teasingly exasperated, "You're so cranky today. Just let the moment happen."

She juts out her chin, stubborn. "No."

I quirk an eyebrow, a sly smile playing across my face. "I have something that could help."

Unimpressed, she motions for me to go on.

"Follow me."

"Where are we going?"

"Follow me~" I sing playfully, making my way to the door. Reluctantly, she follows, still annoyed.

I ignore her questions about my intentions, leading her up the stairs to the attic, which is a large room with virtually no use. The walls slant upwards, as is the theme with most attics, but the room is designed to let there be a few feet of straight walls before following the form of the roof. The far wall sharing the side of the house rather than the top of it was nothing more than a big window, overlooking the city even as far out as we are.

Dani barely looks around the room, glancing once at the window before focusing back on me. "Why are we up here?" she asks.

"This is your new room," I tell her.

She looks to me in surprise and views the room in a new respect.

It had been Alfred's idea. He was cleaning up here and noticed this room was nothing more than an unused study with a few chairs, some small bookshelves and a lone desk. He'd noticed (as he always does) that Dani hadn't lived in her room and only used it as a place to keep the things we gave her. He suggested we accommodate her differently, with a place she could actually use.

So we moved a bed up here similar to Damian's, who preferred hard mats to beds as well, along with a dresser and armoire for clothes. The bookshelves stayed, but were filled with books varying in subjects, since Dani found interest in random things at random times. I also put a stereo system and a record player in the room, knowing Dani's untapped love for music. Across from the couch we'd arranged by the window is an entertainment system with every video game I could find.

But the main reason I'd agreed with Alfred had been the skylights.

It is no secret that Dani enjoys the sky. Whether it be at night for the stars or during the day for the sunshine, she was always watching it. Wayne Manor is just far enough outside the city that the clouds thin enough to allow stars to show through, which Dani often took advantage of during the night.

I flip off the light and flick the switch allowing the ceiling to retreat. This is the main reason the room existed as a study, though no one ever used it. Everyone in the Manor preferred (or were at least accustomed to) caves and other dark areas.

Dani's eyes grow wide at the new sight, letting out a soft "whoa". The room is almost completely open now, and Dani wanders around, a dark shadow. "This is amazing," she breathes, and I let out a soft laugh.

"Thought you'd like it."

"I love it," she corrects.

"The windows blacken," I tell her, even though I doubt she was worrying about her privacy at the moment. "There's a control panel near the window."

"I can't believe you did this." Her tone is still full of awed wonder.

"Of course," I respond immediately. "I've been busy, but I haven't forgotten you. I know you've traveled for who-knows-how-long and that staying here would be a huge adjustment. I also know you don't want to take advantage of staying here, and that you don't want to overstep, but you should know that you aren't. You aren't a guest, Dani. You're family."

Her figure stops moving and I can imagine her blue eyes fixing on me. "I've never had a family before," she answers after a long pause. Her voice is soft, but I can sense the importance of her words behind the volume. "I mean, I have my cousin…" She sighs, stopping herself. "My brother," she corrects finally. "He's family. I've never had a family except for you and him and Alfred and Damian. And Tim, once he lets me push him off a cliff so I can see him fly."

I ignore the last comment and focus on the small revelation from her past. Her brother? Or her cousin? Is he a cousin that's so close he's her brother? It's not like it could be the other way around.

I wait for her to continue, but she doesn't. "Is that who I remind you of?" I ask finally, wishing she would elaborate more but not blaming her for falling silent.

"Yeah." I can hear the smile in her voice. "But you're also so different." She sighs softly, her head tilting back up to the sky. "I miss him."

I thought she said she'd never lost anyone. I'd never known her to lie. She's been evasive, been cryptic, but she's never outright lied. At least, I don't think so. "I thought…"

"You think a lot of things." The bite in her voice is back, but not maliciously. "But before you ask, no, he's not dead. We just don't have contact with each other."

"I can get you a cell phone," I suggest.

"I don't want you guys tracking him down," she responds immediately. "He's a good guy, Dick… But he has a lot of things he doesn't want dug up."

The way she keeps secrets now makes perfect sense. She doesn't act traumatized. She doesn't act like she's running from something. She doesn't act shifty, like she's trying to keep something from us. She's protecting someone else; someone she used to regard as her only family. But I can't shy away from the uneasiness I feel when she suggests he has something to hide. Lots of people are good people, and they still do bad things.

"Stop," she snaps suddenly, and she walks over to the light switch and flips it back on. Her eyes are blazing.

"Stop what?"

"Stop pretending you know what I'm talking about. Stop making assumptions."

I shrug helplessly and she scoffs, running her hand through her hair.

"You got your moment of truth." She groans, frustrated. "It's not like I like keeping stuff from you guys! It's not like they're deep and dark and going to end up hurting you guys!"

"We don't think that," I attempt to placate her, holding my hands up in surrender.

"But you do," she wails, her hands still frantically running through her hair. "I trust you guys! Dick, I trust you."

"I know, I trust you too!"

But she doesn't acknowledge me. She paces again, tugging her ponytail. I watch her, trying to transmit without words that I'm not trying to pressure her.

Finally, with a huff, she stops pacing and tucks her hands in her pockets, looking up at the stars once more. "I trust him as much as I trust you." She fixes me with her fiery blue eyes, gaze resolute, decided. "I'd even trust him with your secret" her tone pleads for me to understand "but that doesn't mean I'll tell him."

"You don't have to tell me anything, Dani. It's never been a question of trust. I was just trying to get to know you."

Her desperate expression slips away, and she allows a small, sincere smile. It's the most genuine smile I've ever seen from her, not that the others were fake. "You've always known me," she insists, "Even if you don't know everything about me."

She wanders over to the TV, picking up a video game controller and waving another at me. "Moment over. Video games?" The tension finally gone, I nod and move to join her as she picks the game.

"Soooo," I tease her, causing her to glare, daring me to start something again. It was definitely the heaviest conversation we'd ever had, and while I'd been wanting to have it, I now wanted to erase it from my short-term memory. "How old are you?"

She pauses in her search. Confused, I look at her body language and her furrowed eyebrows.

A laugh of disbelief bursts out of me, causing her to glare again. "You don't know?"

"I know," she snaps. "Uuuuuummm… Don't look at me like that! What month is it?"

"It's the 17th of August." I try to conceal the mirth in my tone but know I failed.

"I am fifteen," she tries slowly, a crease still on her forehead. She glares at my expression. "Shut up! The years all blur together."

I chuckle, mentally changing her age from 14 to 15. She must've just turned 15 recently, right? "What's your birthday?"

She rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to the video game. "I'm limiting you. One question a day; baby steps."

"And it has nothing to do with the fact that you have no idea what your birthday is?"

Dani's face pinks at the cheekbones in embarrassment. "Guess you'll find out tomorrow, won't you?"

I laugh, settling back into the couch.

She totally doesn't know.

Penny for your thoughts ;)

Also, I was thinking about having a little thing between Dani and Arsenal (Roy Harper from the Young Justice arc, since he'd be about her age at this time). Nothing too shippy, just like Zatanna and Robin in the first season of Young Justice. Dani's almost sixteen and I think it'd be cool, but I don't want to break up any canon ships. What do you guys think?