Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter 2

He flew fast, right for the WE building which thankfully was a very obvious landmark. And finding his Dad was easy too, he was the only one there with Ghost tech after all. It seemed he was…stuck in an elevator? But that meant he was safe enough for now. That left him free to deal with the issue, namely the idiot who thought he could compete with Fright Knight. Yeah right. Maybe he should let them meet? No…too much power was not good.

,

Damian was not at all happy to be trapped in the elevator with a civilian. Without the man there, they could be doing something. But they could not do anything that might give away their identities. Distant screams reached them and Damian frowned, staggering slightly as the elevator shook, surprised when Nightingale steadied him, the man shifting his body to act as a support and protection. He should feel embarrassed by such a thing, he didn't need it, but it was such an automatic move that it was hard to feel bad…right, he had a son the same age as Damian. Therefore, he would allow the actions.

The elevator shook again, Father catching Drake when he bounced off the wall, a hand going to his head, coming away with blood. A head wound was not good but he was still conscious.

"How good are the breaks on this?" Nightingale asked softly.

"The best," Father answered, holding Drake close, checking on Damian who nodded, he was fine.

Nightingale looked down at him, something he was no longer used to as he had inherited Father's height. He was taller than Timothy and Richard now, though not as tall as Father or Jason, yet. "Alright?" he asked, sounding concerned, and Damian nodded.

"Thank you," he said as politely as possible.

And then there was a loud boom above them, Father lifting Timothy right off his feet, shielding him with his body, and Damian found Nightingale wrapped around him protectively. Then his stomach dropped as the elevator began to plummet…the emergency breaks…

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Jack did his best to shield the younger Wayne but a falling elevator…if the breaks didn't catch soon then they were going to die. And then he felt the alert on his watch grow stronger, an approaching ghost. Even with all of them in it, Phantom could easily catch and save the elevator. But could he do it without being seen? His son would be able to track his location due to the family tech, it had an ecto-signature different to that of a living being…and he was pretty sure his son could track him without it. Looking back, their lab safety had been non-existent, they weren't as badly contaminated as some due to their hazmat suits but they were contaminated.

He could see the well-hidden fear in Mr Wayne's eyes, not for himself but his children. And then their descent slowed before reversing, the elevator rising. He heard the elder son mutter something but it wasn't loud enough for him to make out, and then the elevator was moving sideways, being pushed out of the shaft, coming to a stop. He felt the brush of a ghostly presence, saw the younger Wayne shiver slightly, seeming confused.

Phantom had reached them in time and saved them, but then young Tim slumped fully against his father, eyes rolling back in his head.

,

"Tim?" Bruce called in alarm as his son went limp. He hadn't thought he'd hit his head that hard. "Tim, Sweetheart, can you hear me?" He supported Tim's head, seeing his eyes roll.

"He needs medical attention," Jack stated firmly and then moved to the doors. He gripped them and pulled.

Bruce was shocked when, despite the lockdown protocol, the man managed to pull them open. How strong was he? Was he a meta? He wedged his body against the door to hold it open and waved Damian forward.

"Out you go kid," Jack ordered, and Damian hesitated but Bruce nodded so he slipped out.

"I shall find aide," Damian announced and took off. They were back on the floor where Bruce and Tim's offices were, which meant emergency stashes, Damian would likely change and then return to 'rescue' Tim and take him to help. With careful manoeuvring, he managed to get out of the elevator, reluctantly handling Tim's limp form to Jack for a moment. Once he and Tim were clear, Jack stepped forward, letting the doors close behind him.

Bruce carefully lay Tim on the ground and Jack helped perform first aid, checking Tim's spine just to be safe while Bruce checked his pupil response. Thankfully, it seemed to be a mild concussion but where was whichever Super who had saved them? Surely, they knew Tim was injured.

And then Robin ran into view as if he had come from the stairs. "Mr Wayne is everything alright?" he asked, hand on his sword.

"Robin," Bruce managed a relieved look. "My son is hurt, he needs help."

Robin nodded and knelt, pulling out a first aid kit, working to stabilise Tim's head, bandaging the wound. "I can get him to the paramedics faster." He drew a birdarang and threw it at the window, breaking it to give him an exit.

The windows were made to break under those circumstances, and Bruce made sure to hesitate before carefully helping Robin lift Tim. Jack held Tim in place, leaving Bruce and Robin to strap him to Robin's chest. And then they were out the window.

"He'll be alright, he seems a strong boy and the bone was intact."

Bruce nodded, there didn't seem to be a skull fracture or anything, so Tim should be fine. But his lack of spleen made everything riskier. If he could get Tim to retire to a roll like Babs', he would, but Tim would never agree.

"We should go," Jack put a hand on his shoulder, and Bruce grimaced.

But he was right. "This way," he led him to the secondary staircase, it was the better secured so more likely to be safe.

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Jack was exhausted when he got home, unlocking the door and kicking off his shoes. "Danny?"

"Here," the soft answer came, and Jack approached the couch to see Danny sprawled there, an ice pack on his head.

He reached down to gently ruffle bi-coloured hair. "How do you feel?" he asked softly.

Danny mustered a tired smile. "Okay. What about you?"

"I'm good. You did great kiddo, I'm proud of you," he praised, watching Danny blush slightly. "You saved Bruce, Tim, and Damian Wayne as well."

"Really? Huh. Did they ask?" he yawned.

"No, I think they thought a local hero stepped in and Robin showed up just after we got out of the elevator. Tim Wayne was injured as the elevator began to fall and passed out so Robin took him down the outside of the building, it looked fun."

That got a tired smile, his son drifting to sleep. Jack sat down on the couch, sliding under Danny's head, gently stroking his hair, ignoring the permanent chill to his skin. He was so proud of his son, he just wished…he closed his eyes, pushing back the tears.

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Dick stared at Tim as he lay in the hospital bed, he always looked so small when asleep. Getting the call had him racing to the hospital, terrified for his brother, but the doctors didn't seem to think he was in any real danger, though they had put him on a course of antibiotics given it was an open wound. He took a limp hand in his as he sat in the visitors chair, Bruce and Damian were caught up with the police so that left him in charge. Damian had dropped Tim with the paramedics and then dashed back inside since they'd been with a civilian.

"Dick?" a familiar voice called softly, and he waved Steph in.

"How is he?"

"Doctors don't think it's serious," he assured her, seeing her relax. "He's probably just grabbing the chance for a nap," he teased, and she laughed.

"Did you call Bernard?"

"He called me, saw the attack on the news, he's on his way as soon as his shift's over," Dick explained. Being a paramedic, it wasn't easy for him to leave mid-shift unless it was truly dire. At least he was based out of the same hospital…and there he was, still in uniform. Dick immediately moved out of the way, letting him approach.

Bernard checked the chart, scanning over it, relaxing as he did. "Oh Tim," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Tim's forehead. "Is everyone else, okay? We got stuck on a bridge accident."

"A few injuries have been brought in, mostly from fear gas exposure. A handful were caught in the explosion but no deaths," yet at least, burns could be touch and go. "Scarecrow was caught pretty quickly thankfully."

Bernard nodded absently, mostly focused on Tim so they slipped out of the room to give them privacy.

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Bruce wanted to be with Tim, but Dick was there and had just messaged that Bernard had arrived, so he was well looked after. With that covered, he had a puzzle to solve. Scarecrow. He looked at the man who stared vacantly at the wall, eyes glazed, pulse too high. He'd suspect he'd gassed himself except the man was mostly immune to his own concoctions.

"Batman."

"Commissioner," he answered.

"We found him like this, all his men out cold around him. Not your lots doing? Robin was spotted."

"No, he was there on evacuation duty. His orders were to not engage due to numbers," he lied. "Signal was also present and working his way inside."

Signal had been there as soon as he'd gotten the lockdown alert and they had thought Clark, Kon, or Jon but a call had proved their saviour was not one of the Kent's. So, who had caught them and taken them to safety? An unknown Meta? It was possible, it wasn't like they blood tested employees. A strong telekinetic could have theoretically saved the elevator without the need of flight or superstrength.

"Do we know why Scarecrow attacked the building?"

"A new gas delivery system the R department was working on," Bruce answered.

"Good thing he was stopped then."

,

"Welcome home Master Tim," Alfred greeted him, despite the fact that Tim didn't actually live in the Manor anymore, sharing the apartment with young Master Bernard.

"Thanks Alfie," he murmured, head still bandaged and a little wobbly.

Happily, he'd been cleared of any bad effects from his wounds, it appeared that the sudden drop of the elevator had been what caused his unconscious since he had taken a mild concussion from hitting his head on the wall. If it hadn't fallen then, Timothy would have been alright with just a concussion watch at home.

Master Dick flashed him a grin and then helped Tim up to his old room to rest. They wanted him under observation which was why he had come back to the Manor since Bernard had three days of shifts and couldn't get off after an attack.

"Hey kiddo," Jason's voice sounded, something that had become more common in the Manor as the years passed, much to Alfred's happiness. He knew it pleased Master Bruce as well, as little as he seemed able to show it.

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Damian studied all of the information carefully. It did not make any sense. No known super or Meta had been on sight and yet the elevator had been saved and Scarecrow dealt with. Blood work ruled out any drugs causing the man's ongoing state, another Meta ability? What could scare Crane into catatonia? Some kind of telepath perhaps, was there one on staff without Father and Timothy knowing? That could be dangerous, but if they hadn't revealed their identities by now than they would likely continue to remain quiet.

He found Nightingale's reaction to it all to be odd for a non-native Gothamite. He had remained remarkably calm despite the fact that they had been plummeting to their deaths. His move to protect Damian could be excused due to his age and the man's son, but the calmness in the face of certain death? Unless he was the Meta who had saved them somehow? Or perhaps knew who it was if not him? Though the way he had forced the doors suggested beyond normal strength levels, it should have taken a Super to force them.

Looking into the man, he seemed completely normal, a widower with only his son left. He studied the photo of Daniel Fenton; it was a few years old and he was glad that they had not come to Gotham earlier. Then again, Daniel had a living parent…though that had not stopped Father from taking Stephanie on.

It was strange that there were no more up to date photos of the boy though.

"Wonder what he looks like now," Timothy murmured, and Damian spun to glare at his brother.

"You are meant to be resting," he stated, arms crossed.

"Left my favourite hoodie down here last time, I'm heading right back to bed," Timothy promised.

Damian eyed him warily but he didn't appear to be lying. Wait. "What did you mean?"

"Daniel Fenton was in the accident that killed his mother and sister. He's disabled now, permanently scarred too. It's why we're working to get them moved to better housing but apparently his Dad doesn't think he'll leave the apartment even if it is accessible."

That was concerning.

"He actually helps his Dad with some of his work, apparently he's very smart, B offered an internship, but…" Timothy shrugged, and Damian nodded. His brother slipped into the changing room and came back out with an oversized Supernova hoodie. Not that it was much different to the old Superboy ones as Conner had not made many changes to his look with the new identity. He pulled it on and then the hood up, proving that he did not feel well.

"I shall retire as well," he shut down the computer and moved to walk with Timothy, ignoring the small smile on his brother's face. He was not doing this to ensure he made it upstairs in one piece, he had simply finished for the night since he was not on patrol.

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He watched out the window as people went about their lives, missing being a part of it. How much worse would it be if he lived before the internet? He would be finishing high school soon and hoped to attend GU online for aerospace engineering. His Dad had been given a raise and with scholarships, they could easily afford it which was nice. They'd never been poor but before, most of the money went into their research. Dad wasn't very good at budgeting so it was left to Danny, but his Dad did the cooking and it wasn't all Fudge.

With just the two of them and Danny's…limitations, they'd had to work a lot out. From chores to Danny's therapy, it hadn't been easy. And Danny knew the early days had been really bad, when he'd woken every night screaming, his Dad holding and rocking him.

But he wasn't Danny Fenton anymore, he was Daniel Nightingale. Fenton had died strapped to a lab table and cut open.

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Gotham was strange but also far more used to the crazy than even Amity Park, likely because it had been happening for longer. So, they were all back to work within days, just having to take the stairs since the elevators were all being overhauled to be safe. Those who could not use the stairs were either working remotely or being given paid leave.

The Waynes seemed to truly care for their employees in a way that was rarely seen. He'd gotten a raise after meeting them and he'd also noticed his health insurance had been improved as well. All because of Danny? His son would love the labs in the building, it was a pity he would never come and work there. No, it would be too dangerous. If they were found…

He was glad Tim was alright, he even made it back to the office a day after most of the staff, a light bandage over the wound. If Phantom had not arrived when he had…he supposed they could have screamed for Superman? But his actions had obviously raised questions though the Wayne's didn't seem to be doing anything about it. He knew forcing those doors had been risky but he'd been worried for the young man. How had they never realised how contaminated they were and the effects it was having?

Sometimes, he thought of finding a job that he could do from home but Danny had made it clear that he was not doing that. And Danny deserved his privacy. He was proud of his son, of how far he'd come in recovering from what had happened. He just wanted him to be healthy and happy, but was that even possible? If only Jazz…she'd know what to do. He missed his baby girl so much and he knew Danny missed her as well. She had been his closest confidant after all, more a mother to him in many ways than Maddie had ever been after they had gotten caught up in their work.

All he could do was look after Danny and keep working to support him.

TBC….