Cal X Bode

Incorrect DPxDC quote:

Jason: *learns he has contaminated ectoplasm and an only partially formed ghost core* can I get that in writing?

Frostbite: Certainly!

Later

Jason: *rolls up to the Batcave where everyone is meeting* GUESS WHAT? I DID come back wrong.

Dick: Jaybird, no you didn’t-

Jason: *slams doctor’s note on the meeting table* GHOST DOCTOR SAYS SO!

Danny is gravely injured by the GIW, his voice box is severely damaged.

Making use of his own voice is impossible, but through some ghostly means Danny doesn’t quite understand, he can mimic others voices he hears just fine.

It’s a ghostly ability he found out he had a few years ago, with just a sentence or two heard he can do a flawless impression of that person. Now it’s not so flawless. The mimicked voice warps and fluctuates pitch, it’s crackly and he has a hard time not switching between multiple voices with every sentence he speaks.

His voice is reduced to an uncanny frankenstined attempt at speech that activates the average persons fight or flight response.

It’s no surprise that Superman is startled when he calls out for survivors while freeing the ghostly captives and a “not a deer” version of his own voice responds back.

"The Entity Known as Phantom has finally been Discorperated."

The rest of the broadcast faded to background noise as the Teen Titans sat in stunned silence. The pride from the announcer, in his all white suit and dark sunglasses, felt thick and oily and slimy as it made their hackles raise.

They'd heard of the G.I.W. a few times in passing, but even Phantom had brushed the group off as a non-issue, saying he'd been dealing with and evading them for three years. The group was supposedly as incompetent as incompetent got.

So then how? And when? It'd only been a few days since he'd said he was going to visit his sister. He wasn't even expected back for another week and a half.

How had they gotten their hands on Phantom, who could consciously control how physical he was at a given moment?

And how could they have "Discorperated" a ghost?

Would Phantom return?

Could Phantom return?

What, exactly, did they mean by "Discorperated" anyway?

Each member of the team was now looking at each other as thoughts swirled and unasked questions remained unanswered. The News was muted, though no one could quite remember who had hit the control. "Tense" wasn't quite the right word to describe the air, but it was awfully close.

Kon snapped his head to the side, however, breaking the silent group staring contest when he heard the nearly silent wet sniffle from behind the couch. Straining his hearing and every other power under his command didn't reveal anything else to him, however. He didn't hide anything when asked, and it gave them the slightest hope that, just maybe, their friend might still be around.

---

The Justice League had cracked down hard after one of their own, a hero, a child, had been hurt. Possibly permanently.

It only took Batman and Oracle a week to access the G.I.W. test logs. Find the video and written reports of the direct application of Ectoranium leading to "Destabilizing of the Concentrated Ectoplasm at the Core of the Entity."

Superman had cursed when those words were read at the next League meeting, his hands clasped tightly in front of his mouth as he trembled with barely restrained fury. He wasn't the only one, either. They all felt like they had failed.

---

There were riots, ongoing, demanding justice for the ghost, the boy, who'd saved so many people and never asked for anything in return. Everyone who knew anyone was speaking up, interviewing with talk shows, news broadcasts, podcasts, papers, and magazines. Word was getting out everywhere, and even other countries were having protests. After all, the League protected the world, and the Titans had gone just as far.

---

A Shadow seemed to have taken up residence in the Titan's Tower. A few weeks had passed now since Phantom had last been seen.

It didn't take long for word to spread, and now they were holding a small seance with Zatanna and Raven. An untouched Ouija board and radio set in the center of the small circle. Lit candles formed a loose circle around their circle of friends.

One of the candles briefly flickered a signature green as Zatanna led, offering the radio and board for whatever spirit was with them to use, but not to keep. The radio briefly lit green before sputtering and dying.

"Spirit with us, what is your name?" Names hold power, after all, and with a name they could banish the spirit if they need to.

The plamchet slowly moved across the board, pausing deliberately to spell D-A-N-N-Y.

"Danny, do you know the name, Phantom?" Words had to be very deliberate with unknown spirits, after all. Zatanna was more familiar with the rules, so she led for now.

The plamchet slid over to YES.

"Danny, does Phantom still exist in some way beyond memory and word and deed?"

YES.

"Danny, will you tell us how you know Phantom?" Indirect, with an opportunity to elaborate. Not every spirit would answer a question like that, but if the spirit was especially helpful, it just might.

YES. A-M. Hope blossomed for a moment, and in the pause, the plamchet continued. D-A-N-N-Y-P-H-A-N-T-O-M.

"Phantom's name is Danny? And you are Phantom, Danny? Is that correct?" The last thing they wanted was false hope, so better to clear everything up if they could.

YES. YES. YES.

Hopeful looks were shared around before excitement filled the room. Their friend was here, still. Zatanna gave a nod for the Titans to keep going.

"How are you feeling, P?"

W-E-A-K.

T-I-R-E-D.

"Is there anything we can do to help? We miss you, man."

There was a pause before it moved again. M-I-S-S-U-2.

S-T-A-R-S-?

"You wanna stargaze with us tonight, P?"

YES P-L-S.

"I'll get the blankets!"

Danny: *says concerning health things casually*

All of the Titans:

Wally, unseen and unheard by everyone: *motions dramatically* SEE?!? THIS IS WHY YOU NEED TO LOOK AFTER HIM! HE'S A DISASTER. DICK, BABE, CUDDLE HIM!!

Down in the streets of Gotham, in the side alley next to Express Urgent Care run by one Leslie Thompkins and that was funded by the Martha Wayne Foundation was a soup kitchen.

Well...a soup kitchen of sorts. Not in any way official but if you were hungry in Crime alley you knew that the food would be safe and warm...and it was a place where *you* could be safe and warm.

Danny had left a week after his parents found out that he was Phantom, a week after he had seen their grief, the regret and pain in their eyes. The week had been spent in suspense, he knew that they needed to talk about what had happened but neither of his parents were ever able to even start bringing it up before they were sobbing.

Danny knew his parents loved him, thst his father felt soul crushing guilt, that his mother spent hours staring at herself in the mirror, as if she didn't even know who was looking back at her.

And to spare them both, Danny left.

It wasn't hard to do, not when he could turn invisible and phase through walls, a final text to Sam and Tucker to say his good byes (he knew that they would break and tell his parents where he would be going) and a particularly hard hug to leave from Jazz, Danny flew off with only a back pack.

He had traveled across the US for a few months, occasionally snagging a post card from a super store to send off home, paying only when he had the excess funds (Sam's rants about mega rich corporate billionaires let him know just which stores wouldn't miss the few bucks the cards sold for)

He had met up with Dani a few times, when she was in the country, handing him Vlads credit card and telling him to keep it (though he never did) only ever using it to book a room for a few nights at a hotel to clean himself up and sleep in a real bed.

He settled in Gotham after a while, he had briefly stayed in Faucett but that place didn't have nearly enough ecto for him to live comfortably.

Gotham on the other hand? It had everything, cops that don't question why a teen is on the streets, natural ecto up the wazoo and well...a crime rate that would dissuade his parents ever looking for him there.

He had set up a more permanent shelter in an abandoned apartment building (after chasing out the low level drug dealers that were using it) and found that he kinda liked the vibes of the place under the blatant crimes being committed in broad day light.

Sure people could see you getting mugged and look the other way, but if you were still alive and there 5 minutes later, they would come back, hand you something to clean up your now bloody nose and point out the bodega that had the best sandwiches.

It was a sense of community that Danny didn't know he had missed for the many months he traveled.

His first "cook out" wasn't even supposed to be a cook out, his apartment building was mostly wood and he didn't trust himself to not burn it down, so he came outside, setting up a portable stove and setting up a pot filled with some, water to boil up a soup mix.

As he waited for it to come to temp, he saw the group of homeless rubbing their hands together, watching him with curiosity, though that quickly turned to hunger as the smell of the soup spilled out into the alley.

Instead of turning the others away Danny only shrugged, pulled out his spare paper bowls and handed them out, taking a few bites first to show that it was safe to eat.

What followed was a sort of tradition, Danny would come out a few times a day, take out his hot plate and pot and set up a soup, others started asking if they could pitch in, and well...Danny would have loved to keep providing it freely but his food was quickly dwindling.

So his soup got add in, some jerky that Crazy Tom had got tossed in, a few herbs (re:weeds) were added in by Miss O'Connor, and Danny didn't even know where Lady Dimond pulled out some spices from, but he wasn't about to question the her, he had learned never to question where the working girls hid their things.

And it sort of grew from there, who ever was around came by, some came out of their way to share a meal, but it became a meeting place of sorts "Come by the Kitchen at noon, Tom got his hands on some steak! And it ain't even smells bad!"

Sure gangs tried to pull up on the meeting place, tried to intimidate the people there or coerce them into doing something...well that was until the host, some punk teen with hair darker than black and blue eyes that were so light they were white came up, and dished out a heavy handed fist into their jaws and sent them packing.

And so the Kitchen became a safe space, if you were hungry, if you were in danger, come by the little alley way, right next to the Express Urgent Care, the Host will take care of you there, if your willing to share, to stay peaceful with the rest of the gathered people, then you were welcome to grab a bite and relax, because the Kitchen was always safe.

---

It would be a few years since the Kitchen started, since people had brought chairs and tables, since an old grill of questionable origin was left out side it, since tarps with only a few holes were hung up to keep the place dry when it rained, since rugs covered the ground and the the alley it was in was swept clean of any needles or cigarette butts.

But for one boy it had only been a few short days since his Mama died, since he had found her cold and dead in the bathroom, a belt tied around her arm and a needle still in her hand.

Jason was miserable, he had stayed with her for the a single day before he knew he would have to leave, the body of his mother would start to decompose soon, so he did what he had too, calling the police with his mother's phone that didn't have a lot of minutes left on it, telling them the address before hanging up and leaving it there so he couldn't be tracked.

He couldn't be there when the cops showed up, foster care would do shit for him, and at least his Mama would be buried, and not left to rot in their bath tub.

So a young Jason Todd, scared, alone and hungry came to the Kitchen, as his mother had told him to many times before, had told him to seek out it's Host if anything ever happened to her...and well...at the very least he would get something to eat...

Gotham TikTok

AKA "Danny moves to Gotham and records TikToks with absolutely deranged captions. He films Get Ready with Me in Gotham videos, fit checks, and even A Day in the Life of a Ghost in Gotham! Except everybody is freaking the fuck out in the comments" prompt idea!

No, you don't understand, I'm obsessed. Like, what if Danny's idea of "safe" is just... anything that doesn't actively try to kill him? So Metropolitians, Star City, and Central City citizens are literally biting their nails and sweating bullets every time he posts, because what if he gets merc'd by the "Eight Heads in a Duffel Bag" Red Hood?? And that's one of the nicer villains in Gotham. And Danny's just like wow, this place is niiiiiice, I haven't even been murdered yet!

Maybe Jazz took a 12-year-old Danny to Gotham to escape their parents. Gotham's cheap, dirty, and doesn't ask questions: it's the best place to go to disappear because damn near half the city's population are either super villains, hostages, dead, or vigilantes. She gets a job at an understaffed hospital as a clinical psych intern. She enrolls Danny for online schooling because she's scared a public high school would be too easy for their parents to track.

Which leaves Danny alone for hours. He makes a TikTok account called "Danny Phantom" because, c'mon, he's a kid. And, like most kids, he doesn't really comprehend the idea of a digital footprint or that his account is public, accessible by literally anybody.

He's also a little shit. So, the first TikTok he uploads is of a man getting carjacked, but the caption reads: love to see people helping each other. remember it's always okay to ask for help! it's okay, I don't know how to parallel park, either :)

And you just see this guy in a mask shove a businessman away from his car, gesturing with his gun, before getting into the driver's seat. Except the car is parallel parked so the carjacker just slowly inches back and forth between a Prius and a Honda until he can wedge himself out of the parking space. And then gets stuck in stand-still traffic. The TikTok goes viral. It's talked about on the Gotham news and Gothamites are losing their shit, pointing out the exact moment you can see the carjacker start to soundlessly cuss through the car's windshield or the way the businessman is just... standing on the side of the road, watching with a deadpan look.

Danny doesn't know about it being on the news, but he sees all the comments, likes, reposts, and feels something. He wonders if this is what Ember feels every time people listened to her music. So, he keeps posting. Usually, it's short three-second videos of a hilariously unexpected situation with an even more deranged caption. But then he's accidentally caught in the reflection of a store front while recording and doesn't know, posts it like he always does; only for this TikTok to go viral, too. Because "Danny Phantom" is a child??

He doesn't notice the shift in his comments, but the public opinion quickly changes from wow, Gothamites are just like that huh lol to what the FUCK, kid, get inside!!! anytime he posts.

Except Danny never gets hurt. Even in the most dangerous situations, when you'd think this kid is a goner for sure, he's just happily yapping in the background. He's so different from Gothamites because he lacks that dead-eyed, despair-inducing aura of someone who's lived in a hellmouth their whole lives. (A couple people post that Danny kind of reminds them of Golden Boy Brucie Wayne, all air-headed and unrealistically optimistic, and suddenly there's memes of "what happens when you've never gotten shot in Gotham" or "how i act when Commish Gordie accuses me of shoplifting again" with them side-by-side.)

And then Danny's posts go viral again and again. Danny doing a fit check with a blond-haired woman with a checkered outfit, she ruffles his hair and kisses him on the cheek. A picture of him wearing an old jean jacket with a bright red lipstick smear on his cheek is trending for weeks. Spoiler, fully suited up in an all-purple vigilante attire, and him shoving gas station hotdogs in their mouths. He even has videos of him clearly in Killer Croc's lair, with comments of are you in the sewers??? DANNY??? and he responds, no, i'm in mom & dad's basement :) (Waylon Jones is actually sitting behind him in one of the videos, intently watching a TV show on an iPad.)

Everybody adores Danny - Rogues, Gothamites, even the Bats. (There's at least six videos of Nightwing teaching Danny how to do backflips, handstands, and other acrobatic moves. Even the youngest Robin has been caught on camera quietly talking with Danny, a shocking lack of violence that left half the city's population suffering from cuteness aggression for the kids.)

So, yeah, Danny belongs to Gotham.

But the internet is widely accessible and Danny made it so, so easy to find him. Jazz obviously didn't know he was posting videos of himself publicly; she was too tired after back-to-back 12 hour shifts at the hospital that she hadn't even checked social media in months. Otherwise, she would've told him to be careful, to never show his face or post his real name on the internet. Then again, Jazz would never have expected all of Gotham (and Superman himself, totally endeared by the kid after Kon and Jon showed him a couple TikToks) would beat the absolute shit out of anybody going after Danny.

Imagine GIW's surprise when they track down Amity's former residential Ghost only to find an entire city frothing at the mouth to protect their Phantom.

DpxDc #10

A bit chilly out, isn't it?

kind of gory? Not in a violent way.

Danny felt cold.

Not his core cold, or winter cold, more like a “walking around without clothes cold”.

Skulker was right, at the end.

He got his pelt, and now…

Well, Danny was walking around without skin. Hence, the cold.

He wasn’t really worried, it would grow back like his missing organs did when the GIW emptied him out.

Long story short, Skulker was a bitch, he should probably find a way to stop dripping with blood (and possibly a coat) and try to figure out where he ended up after taking the wrong portal while escaping.

He was doing well at this point, he thought. The city he was in was gloomy and humid, which was nice since he was starting to dry out pretty fast.

————————————————————————

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-“

Jason stared at the walking flayed guy who was taking a nice stroll around the block.

Every step he took left a matching bloody print, and he could see every single fiber of the muscles tense and relax.

The more he stared at it, the more he hated it.

He immediately reached for the coms.

“I fucking hate it, what the fuck-“

He heard the others connecting.

“Hood, everything alright?”

“Fuck no, oh my god, I’m not gonna be able to sleep anymore, that’s the most fucked up shit I ever saw my entire life, what the fuck”

“Hood, report. What’s going on?” 

“OH MY GOD!” Everybody heard Oracle almost shout from the coms “That’s ugh- I’m gonna throw up, that- ugh-”

“Right?!”

“Hood! Report right now!”

“It’s like-It’s like this guy, walking around without skin and-“

Hood looked down at it. It was looking back.

“You know I can hear you, right?”

Dp x dc: batshit crazy driver au.

Bruce hired a new personal driver for the Wayne's. He was a nice enough guy. His grades weren't great, but he was a great driver and very patient. Like, really patient. Like, he is so unbothered by traffic, stupid drivers, and villain attacks, its kinda scary. But all the background checks came back clean. Minus his mad scientists parents, of course.

Daniel (Danny) Fenton. He could relate to any of the Wayne kids and hold an intelligent conversation with Bruce. Bruce feels that he doesn't need to be all Brucie Wayne around the young man. He doesn't know about their nightly activities yet, though. They're not quite sure if he even needs to know.

The first sign there was something more to Danny happened when Tim was sitting in the passenger seat. Tim was struggling with a math problem. It was driving him nuts. It only took a quick glance for Daniel to solve it, though, "it's thirty-six"

"What?"

"The answer is Thirty-six. You forgot to carry the three."

"Huh..."

He was right, Tim made a simple mistake, sure. But that was advanced college level math. Danny was a straight c student and never went to college. It only took him a momentary glance to solve it. Tim, though suspicious, chalked it up to a simple case of gifted kid syndrome. He related to it and began to consult with Danny on some of his math problems. Danny was more than happy to help, for a price, of course.

Then, there was a villain attack. The villain's goons ran rampant through the city, terrorizing anyone unfortunate enough to be outside at the time. But not Danny, they'll tried, oooh they tried. But those goons swiftly found themselves zip tied, in the trunk of a car, and on their way to jail. All while Danny blasted some music by a small artist named 'Ember'.

Alright. He is in Gotham, and his mother was a black belt, so maybe he was just well trained. Its good to know how to deffend yourself.

Then, Damien was kidnapped. It was so fast they barely saw, but a white van sped by and grabbed Damien as he made his way tawords the car. Initially, Damien expected the chauffeur to panic and call the police. But when shouting and cursing were heard from the front seat, and the men in the back slipped the van door open to check behind them, it was revealed Danny had followed them and he had a gun.

What could only be described as an action movie chase scene ensued. Every corner they swerved, every shortcut they took, Danny was right behind them. Driving like a bat out of hell, he shouted and fired at the wheels of the van. Knocking one out, the van swerved and was forced to come to a stop.

A kidnapper grabbed Damien by the hair and held a gun to his head, but before the threat could even leave his mouth a bullet flew through his hand. He dropped Damien and fell to the ground screaming, clutching his hand.

The kidnapper in the van already took off running but was swiftly stopped by Redhood arriving just in time to see Danny helping Damien up and checking him over, profusely apologizing for "letting this happen."

When asked why he did all of it, his simply answered, "I don't think I would get paid if I let Mr. Wayne's kid die! I can't let a kid die in general!"

Bruce, of course, gave the young man a bonus and a few days off for the stunt. Accompanied wlth a few stern words about safety. What was truly remarkable was that there was not a single scratch on the car. Untouched, meaning he never hit anything during the whole ordeal. "I just learned what not to do from my dad!" He joked, but Bruce felt that, despite the clear joking tone, there was some truth to the statement.

The family is suspicious, very suspicious. The man they previously viewed as their simple and humble driver turned out to be a monster of a fighter, and they have no idea how or why.

----------------------‐------

A/N: Feel free to add onto this in any way you would like :3

I had a fic idea but don't know where to go with it, so if you want to expand on anything feel free.

So, Danny's finally an adult who's off to college at Gotham (the STEM there is crazy for how many supervillains have doctorates). Since Vlad actually took the time to heal and grow past his issues and turned into the crazy Bi uncle he was supposed to be, Danny's got his college paid for.

In the form of $50,000 and an kinda ok motel near the upper west side.

He tried asking his former nemesis why he's done this but Vlad just told him it's so he has some "pocket change and experience".

Danny's been spending the past few weeks aceing his his STEM middling at literature and upgrading the motel into something actually decent.

His business seem to be attracting the strangest living too. That's saying something since he's got ghostly and living guests. Danny knew this place was cursed but still feels surprised every time they show up.

1st: A nice lesbian couple came on the first night cause one with green-ish skin named Pam according to the pale lady named Harley felt the vegetation get really excited when he came. He had about an hour of questioning on Ectology and who Undergrowth was.

2nd: A 10ft tall crocodile man named Waylon came in cause of Harley's recommendation, he looked like he'd run any moment. That night he made sure his staff wouldn't mistreat people like him and by the time croc left there was a glowing sign by the door about how different guests are to be treated with respect no matter how they look.

3rd: THE Red hood showed up asking about a kid who worked there. Her name's Zoe and when her parents reaction to their kid being trans was to kick her out of the house at 17. She biked to the motel to get some rest before catching the bus out of Gotham, got a job checking people in instead and has since found an actual family with the help of Amorpho a social worker Danny met a few years ago.

4th: the most recent event was when Gotham's play boy prince and his cousin Kate Kane stumbled in during his shift at the front desk. Mr. Wayne was pretending extremely well to be drunk while his cousin was wrangling him awkwardly. If Danny didn't have super senses he wouldn't have noticed he was acting, or the tracker added to his cuff when he was semi-forced to shake "Bruce, just Bruce. Everyone's always so stiff." Hand. The tracker had little legs and crawled under his shirt, creepy and fascinating.

Wait! This isn't my House DP x DC

In which Danny's habit of fiddling with all the guns and weapons left in every conceivable nook and cranny of the Fenton household lead to a very awkward moment during his first tutoring session. Meanwhile, Jason is trying not to shit bricks.

"But it's IMPOSSIBLE to know what the author was TRYING to say!!!"

Jason watched the kid sitting across from him threw up his hands in frustration and start pacing the length of his apartment. This was the first time the skittish kid had taken Jason up on his offer to tutor English. Jason just rolled his eyes when he found out Danny's essay was due tomorrow and let him in.

Jason owned all the rooms adjacent to his main safe house, so he was surprised to spot the kid stepping out of the apartment below his a few weeks ago. No matter what Jason tried, Danny Nightingale was a big mystery, but he was definitely running from something.

"The whole point of the essay isn't to figure that out."

"That's literally the assignment!!! Word for word!" Danny huffed then flopped onto the worn couch with his arms crossed.

Jason got up from the stool at the kitchen counter and joined Danny in the armchair by the coffee table. "The point of the essay isn't to figure that out. It's to show that you know how to make a claim and support it. That's it. Most teachers don't care what you argue, so long as you show that it is a possible interpretation."

"Then why didn't anybody ever just say that?!" Danny seemed to be having an epiphany while constipated. "I've been pulling my hair out because I actually read the book and wanted to do it right this time! And you're saying I could have just said 'green symbolizes golf or unicorns or something' and called it a day?"

Jason laughed. "In a way, yeah. It's an unobtainable dream so Gatsby is basically chasing something that doesn't exist. A metaphorical unicorn hunt."

"I hate everything."

Jason tried not to laugh.

"I don't care. I'm not going to write about that stupid green light. Not after all that."

"Okay. Then let's look at something else." Jason decided to just start talking about different aspects of the book. It wasn't often he actually got to talk to anybody about literature and he could see a spark of interest and consideration taking root in the boy's eyes.

"The Great Gatsby is also a rare example where the main character isn't the protagonist of the story."

Danny fidgeted in place, having trouble sitting still despite paying attention. His hands wandered over the couch cushions, playing with seams and picking at one of the older stains. Jason hadn't had the chance to clean up properly, and the kid was getting uncomfortably close to-

Jason watched in horror as the kid's hand reached between the cushions and pulled out a full magazine. Jason froze, waiting for the inevitable freak out, running through the possible excuses.

Instead, Danny checked how full it was and tapped absently at one of the rubber bullets, his brow furrowed in thought. "How can the main character not be the protagonist? Don't they mean the same thing?"

Sweat pricked on back. Had someone found out his identity? Red Hood's weakness for kids had eventually leaked. Was this a trap? A threat? Was the kid sent by someone? Jason forced his hand not to reach for the gun tucked in the hidden pocket on the side of the armchair.

"He's actually mostly a spectator or a lens through which we see the story play out."

It was Crime Alley. Someone owning a gun wasn't that crazy. As long as he didn't find any of the hidden pockets that he kept the weapons in, he could play it off.

"But wait... doesn't he actively hide Daisy and Gatsby's relationship from the husband guy? And he does other stuff."

They continue to talk and Danny's wandering hands pull out every weapon he had stashed in the couch without reacting to any of it. Various knives and magazines that were clearly for almost a dozen different types of gun were all looked over for a few moments, then placed back or set out on the coffee table in a line.

Jason cleared his throat and continued the conversation barely aware of what he was saying by the time the kid withdrew one of his spare pistols from the hidden pocket on the underside of the couch.

Danny's hands ran over the surfaces, flicking the safety and pulling out the magazine, checking the chamber while he asked another question.

The next thing Jason knew, the gun was completely disassembled. Every piece scattered across the table

Danny stareed at the ceiling in concentration while his hands are moving and dismantling the gun. Within seconds, it's completely disassembled across the coffee table.

Jason was in awe. He did that faster anyone he'd ever scene except himself and a few other gun specialists, and he did it without even looking. What life was this kid running away from to have enough skill that it looked like a goddamned fidget toy instead of a weapon.

"No. In the context of the Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald isn't the author. Nick Carraway is. Sort of like how the Lord of the Rings is an Autobiography by Frodo."

"Sorry to interrupt, but you have to tell me what oil you use. This thing is smooth as butter. Though you might have to double check your sight alignment on this one. I think it's a bit off."

Jason stared.

Danny looked at him expectantly. Then his eyes followed Jason's stare.

"Oh shit!" Danny's eyes widen in horror and exactly what was in his hand. "I'm so sorry! Habit just kind of took over. I shouldn't have messed with your gun without asking."

That was not the problem here!

The kid reassembled the gun in a blur, tucking it securely back in it's hidden alcove along with everything else he'd left out on the table.

Face tinged red, he turned back to Jason. "So Nick is the author, so he's also an 'unreliable narrator.'"

Jason doesn't know how he got through the rest of the discussion, but by the end of it, they threw together a solid outline and gathered several quotes that would work.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Jason. I couldn't have done this without you." The kid was positively glowing with pride over Jason helping him make a couple notes. "Would... would it be okay if I came back if I have trouble again?"

"Sure kid. This was actually a lot of fun. I got to relax. Nobody wants to talk to me about books anymore." And surprisingly, it really was true. He couldn't remember he'd been this calm or the pit waters had been this quiet. Maybe there was something to that 'art is therapy' junk after all.

"I can see that when you look like fridge and smell like a sewer." The kid dashed off before Jason could ruffle his hair or

"Hey-!" Jason shouted but he was already gone.

Jason pulled out the gun the kid had messed with. It was perfectly assembled and just as he said, the sights were indeed slightly off. Looks like Jason would have to call in the big guns.

Pulling out his phone, he grudgingly dialed the number. This was going to cost him. "Yo Timberly, I need your help and you can't tell Bruce."

Danny bounced down the sidewalk on his way to the library to type up his paper. Who knew having somebody actually explain things

Danny's face heated at how inconsiderate he'd been. He was amazed Mr. Jason was okay with him coming back after he'd made such a fool of himself. He'd never done anything like that before. Sam and Tuck hadn't cared if he stripped down the Fenton Bazooka while talking.

His mo- Maddie could get really possessive when he'd accidently mess with her guns. Of course he should have asked first. Wait, he was missing something.

Danny foot caught his ankle when something obvious clicked into place and almost face planted. He grabbed his hair in both his hands. "Ancients! That's not my house!"

I wrote this as a reblog for someone's concept, and Tumblr ATE IT!!! Then I absolutely could not find the original post. It's been a few weeks, and I did the best to recreate some of it, but I'm getting frustrated. This is what you get. Take it or leave it.

Found it! Inspired by this post: here!