Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He should’ve known it was too good to last. He can’t believe he let himself trust other people – other vigilantes no less – not to hurt him.

Danny flies faster, wishing he could wipe at his green-tinted tears. At least they aren’t visible behind his mask. A few of the people of Gotham turn to watch him fly, but he’s on his typical patrol route, and most of them are used to him by now. It usually soothes something in him, having people accept him in his ghost form. None of them know his human form, not even Nightwing and Flash. To be fair, he doesn’t know their civilian personas either, but at least he knows they have them. They only know Phantom, they don’t have any idea he’s half-human. Don’t have any idea he’s really Danny. And there’s definitely no way he’s going to tell them now, not after tonight.

He never wanted to anyway.

But. Flash brought it up tonight. He paused their standard post-battle movie and he and Nightwing turned to Danny in sync, showing that whatever they wanted to talk about, they had already discussed it without Danny.

Their relationship has been shifting lately. Nightwing and Flash and Phantom used to be all equal partners, at least as much as they could be while none of them showed their faces to the others.

But apparently, Flash wants to change that. And Nightwing is on board. They’re already united against Danny, and Danny barely heard them out before he panicked and fled.

He hasn’t been human around other people in so long. He does everything in ghost form, nearly all of it suited up and hidden behind his mask. He only takes his mask down when the lights are out in their bedroom. Not that it really hides him, since he glows, but he still finds the darkness comfortable.

The darkness of their bedroom feels like home.

Felt like home.

And now he’s flying away, knowing he’s leaving behind the best relationship he’s ever had.

Will he even be allowed to stay in Gotham after tonight? Is he going to have to find a new city to haunt?

He never should’ve even attempted any of this, he realizes, and it shocks him so badly it steals his breath.

He’s exhausted and achy and trying not to sob, and when he tries to take another breath he wheezes instead.

He can’t get enough air. He– He can’t–

His insides feel like they’re full of tar, sticking to his lungs and climbing up his throat, choking him as he flies. He darts onto the top of a building and collapses to the gravelly roof. His vision starts to spot, his chest fills with fire, and all he can hear are his own wheezy breaths. The gravel digs through the knees of his hazmat suit, and he focuses on the pain, clenching his hands to ground himself further.

No, no, he can do this. He can survive this. He’s survived everything else, everything the GIW did to him, every fight he’s been in. He can handle a little breakup.

He counts his breaths, working himself down, and he’s almost got it under control when there’s suddenly a burst of gunfire from a building off to his right.

He looks over the edge of the building and sees a mass of people fleeing from a big group of men in masks. He doesn’t recognize them as any Rogue’s goons, but they’re definitely up to no good.

No rest for the wicked, and no rest for the heroes trying to fight them either.

Danny forces himself to breathe as he lifts off the roof, and then he immerses himself in his work, forming a duplicate to guide civilians out of the building and flying circles around the masked men to keep them occupied before swooping in to take them out.

The fight’s going fine, if a little long, and Danny focuses his attention on protecting civilians and taking down each and every goon that’s setting explosives throughout the building. He encases the bombs in ice to mitigate any explosions, just in case he doesn’t manage to defuse them in time, he uses duplicates to drag the incapacitated men outside, and that’s when his powers start to fluctuate. He’s already worn out from the earlier battle, and now all of this?

Pretty soon he’s going to be completely drained. He stops forming duplicates, but that means he’s going to have to drag each man out himself, not to mention defusing the bombs and searching the building for more civilians.

His intangibility starts to flicker out of his control, and by the time he’s down to the last few goons, his rings keep trying to form, pressuring him to turn human. He forces the rings down and keeps himself in ghost form, gritting his teeth with effort.

Typically at this point he would’ve already called in Nightwing to assist, or Flash if he was available, and he could take a breather and get some energy back. But he definitely didn’t feel like he could call them tonight. Typically Danny has his comms in and can even reach out to Oracle or the rest of the Bats and Birds if he’s really in a tight spot. But tonight isn’t typical, and when Danny’s hand goes to his ear, he finds his comms missing. He left them in the safehouse when he fled.

No matter. He’s fought on fumes before, he can totally handle this.

And he does. He gets the fight wrapped up neatly and all the goons out on the street, bound by icy cuffs, ready for the cops to process.

He’s almost done, all that’s left to do is make sure the building is clear and defuse the bombs.

Danny – too tired to even fly anymore – runs inside to finish evacuating the building.

Unfortunately, that’s when the bombs go off.

There’s a flash of light and an explosion of sound, and something smacks into Danny’s head.

The world goes dark.

***

Someone’s shouting.

Danny’s ears are ringing, but there’s definitely someone shouting somewhere above him.

He groans, but no sound comes out, which is a little strange. He’s human, so he’s not expecting his core to grumble or anything, but usually he can make sounds in human form, can’t he? How else is he gonna tell whoever’s yelling that he’s got a headache? They could at least let him sleep until his alarm goes off, geez.

He tries to turn over to check the time on his phone, but there’s a sudden searing pain in his chest and it all comes rushing back.

The fear, the flight, the fight.

The explosion.

Danny opens his eyes to a pitch black space, with his chest absolutely screaming. He can feel something warm and wet running down his torso, and he knows that can’t be good. He’d better go ghost.

He concentrates, and his rings sputter to life, slowly moving up his body, leaving him ghostly and glowing and oh shit, now he can see the problem.

There’s a piece of rebar stuck through his chest.

Judging by the positioning, it’s stuck right through his lung. He considers himself lucky though. Any higher and it might’ve pierced his heart. He doesn’t think his human form could’ve survived that. And now that he’s in ghost form, the pain is lessened enough that he can think. And hear.

“The vital signs are gone,” he hears faintly from somewhere above him.

“We might be able to bring them back in the ambulance!” Someone shouts, and that’s a familiar voice. Flash.

Danny relaxes a little, then just as quickly tenses up again. Flash is here. He’s here. Danny’s got to get away.

He tries to go intangible, but even trying makes his rings sputter back into being. It’s a struggle just to stay ghost. His powers are well and truly exhausted.

“Flash, the vital signs were back,” someone else says – Nightwing says – and it’s quiet enough that he has to strain to hear him, even with his enhanced senses. “They’re gone again but they were there!”

“We’d better be quick then!” Flash says, and Danny can hear the shifting of rubble above him.

They must be talking about him.

And of course he doesn’t give off any vital signs right now, he’s a ghost.

He glances down again, and the glow he’s giving off illuminates his red and green blood, still flowing down his body. He’s stuck, pinned like a bug on a board, and he tries to shift his arms just to prove to himself that he’s not truly trapped. He can’t. He turns his head slowly to look, and his arms disappear beneath the rubble around him. Now that he’s paying attention, his legs are buried up to his hips, and when he tries to wiggle his toes, they don’t move even the slightest bit.

Okay, now he’s starting to panic.

He can’t move. He can’t move. He can’t move!

He blinks and the world flickers around him.

His arms and legs are bolted in place and it’s so bright and he’s on the table and he hurts he hurts he hurts.

His eyes are screwed shut against the sight of the doctors and the white walls and the red and green blood coating their instruments, but then he hears a voice again.

“We’re coming!”

It’s Flash.

Flash is coming to rescue him.

“Just hold on.”

Nightwing.

They’re here. They’re here in the lab and they’re going to save him.

Danny opens his eyes, hoping to see them, hoping they’re already releasing him, but all he sees is the rubble above him.

He’s not in the lab, he realizes. He’s not in the lab.

Okay. Okay okay. He tries to take a deep breath, tries to calm down, but he can’t breathe with the rebar through his lung. Every breath he takes is a desperate gasp, air whistling in and going nowhere near his lungs. He can see his chest expanding, but he can’t breathe out. His vision starts going spotty again, and all of a sudden there’s a shifting of rubble and he can see light.

A well-loved face appears above him, and a domino creases in confusion.

“Phantom?” Nightwing says.

“What?!” Flash shouts, popping into view beside Nightwing. “Shit, we’re coming, Phantom. Won’t be but a second!”

Danny wheezes, and his powers finally run out, rings traveling up and over his body, leaving him utterly, painfully, human.

Nightwing’s lenses widen. Flash’s jaw drops. Danny coughs up blood.

“Shit!” Flash yelps, disappearing from sight to the sound of moving rubble.

“Just hold on,” Nightwing says, and Danny can hear the way his voice shakes. “We’ll get you out of there.”

The rubble is moving, each piece flying away as Flash speeds through unburying Danny, and Nightwing stays with him, doing his best to keep them both calm.

Flash lifts the last bit of rubble off Danny’s legs, and then there’s just the rebar through his chest and the paramedics swarming them.

Danny loses a bit of time, staring dazedly at Nightwing and Flash through the spots dancing across his eyes, while the paramedics do something to his chest. He barely feels it anymore.

And then suddenly his pathetic wheezing turns to a gasp, and air fills his lungs again.

It’s extremely painful, and his eyes burn with new tears. He whines, arching up to get away from the pain, but the movement makes it so much worse.

“Stay still, Ph–” Flash says, cutting himself off.

Danny reaches out to them, and Nightwing grabs his hand.

“Danny,” he sobs out. “‘M Danny.”

“Danny,” Nightwing and Flash say back together.

“You’re gonna be alright,” Nightwing says, promises, demands.

Danny nods, each breath a bitten-off gasp. “Always am,” he grates out. He tries to smile, but the paramedics wriggle something beneath his body and his smile turns to a shout of pain.

His vision flares white, there’s a whining screech of metal beneath him, and when he floats back to awareness, he’s being carried somewhere on a stiff board. There’s a tough brace around his neck. He tries to turn his head to see where his boyfriends have gone, but he can’t move at all.

“Flash!” He groans. “Nightwing!”

There’s a shuffling sound and an offended call, but then they’re there, one on either side.

“Danny,” Flash says, voice rushed like it gets when he’s stressed. “We’re right here.”

“Let them take you, Danny,” Nightwing says, and when Danny reaches out they both take a hand.

They squeeze his hands tight, and then they have to let go as the paramedics load Danny into the ambulance.

If he strains his eyes, Danny can just barely see them at the bottom of his vision, and he keeps staring until the doors shut and the ambulance whisks him away.

Chapter Text

He comes to with a groggy groan, hand patting around to find his phone. He definitely isn’t getting up when his alarm goes off, so that means he’s got to turn it off ahead of time.

There’s a strained chuckle, and someone takes his hand.

“Careful there, sweetheart,” Flash says, and Danny hums in answer, smiling.

“They’ve got you on the good stuff,” Nightwing says from slightly farther away.

Danny blinks, and there’s a white ceiling above him. There’s a faint beeping sound, something on his finger, something else in his arm, and oh god, he can’t be back, he can’t.

His next breath is a whimper, and his vision starts to tunnel.

“Hey, hey, breathe,” a gentle voice says beside him, and when Danny turns to look, there’s a man beside him with pale, freckled skin, floppy red hair, bright green eyes, and a worried look on his face, thin lips pursed in a straight line. “Sweetheart, just breathe, you’re safe.”

And that’s Flash’s voice, Flash’s hair and eyes on this stranger, and Danny finds his next breath comes easier.

“There you go, suflet,” Nightwing says, and when Danny’s tired eyes shift towards the voice, he sees another stranger sitting at his bedside, right next to Flash.

This stranger has darker skin than his counterpart, silky black hair, gorgeous blue eyes under heavy black eyebrows, and a tense smile on plush lips.

“You’re going to be just fine, just keep breathing, nice and slow.”

That’s Nightwing’s voice.

Nightwing fiddles with the side of the bed to raise it so Danny can sit up.

Flash’s and Nightwing’s voices are coming from these two strangers, and now that Danny’s really looking, he can see it’s really them, their hair and lips and chins, their strong bodies and gentle hands.

But he can’t call them their hero names while they’re in civilian form.

“Who?” He asks, eyes darting from one to the other.

They both smile at him.

“I’m Dick,” Nightwing – Dick – says.

“Wally,” Flash – Wally – says with a quick little wave.

“Danny,” Danny says back automatically, then he flinches back.

Flash – no, Wally keeps ahold of his hand, stretching his arm out as Danny leans away.

“You–” Danny stutters, “you know. You know.”

“We do,” Nigh– Dick says, and when Wally glances at him, his eyes dart to him and back to Danny. “We know. And it doesn’t change anything.”

Danny’s breath catches.

“It isn’t how we would’ve told you about us,” Wally picks up the conversation, “but now we’re all even, and it doesn’t change anything for us.” His mouth skews to the side, and it’s a familiar expression. It’s strange and new to see Wally’s eyes squint as he thinks. “Well, it might change some things, but only in good ways.”

“Like what?” Danny asks, trying to stay calm.

“Well,” Wally says, “I’m assuming this form is a bit different from your usual, so we’ve got a whole new Danny to explore!” He grins and winks, and then ducks as Dick tries to whack the back of his head. “Ha!” He calls, grinning unrepentantly up at Dick.

Dick drops his hand to Wally’s hair and gives him a one-handed noogie.

The normality of it calms Danny down further, and he starts to relax. He glances down at his chest and finds a mass of bandages covered by a hospital gown. “Oh, ouch,” he says, lifting a hand to poke at it.

Dick lunges forward to catch his hand, and Danny flinches a bit at the sudden movement.

“You okay?” Dick asks, concerned again.

“Sorry,” Danny apologizes. “Hospitals just make me jumpy.”

“What’s your least favorite thing about ‘em?” Wally asks, looking intensely at Danny.

“The white ceilings,” Danny answers instantly.

And Wally’s gone in a whoosh of displaced air. Dick steals his seat and takes Danny’s closer hand in his own while he’s gone. Wally’s back a few moments later, frowning at Dick from Dick’s vacated seat, and when Danny looks up, there’s a familiar bright purple sheet pinned to the ceiling. He squints up at it.

“Is that our bedsheet?”

Danny looks back down, and Dick is giving Wally an incredulous look while Wally looks suspiciously guilty.

“Mmmmmmaaaaaaybe?” He says, and this time he doesn’t dodge Dick’s gentle head smack.

Danny stares up again, and despite the silliness of it, the sight of the purple sheet does help him calm down.

He manages to actually take in the room now, and he sees the walls are painted a tasteful pale blue. There’s a flatscreen TV on the wall opposite the bed and a wide window with hanging blinds pulled all the way shut. There are vases with expensive-looking bouquets, and Danny can smell them from all the way over in his surprisingly comfortable bed with soft sheets. The chairs Wally and Dick are sitting in definitely don’t look like typical hospital chairs; they look like they came out of one of those fancy magazines Wally picks up every time they go through the checkout at the grocery store.

“...Where am I?” Danny finally asks.

“The hospital?” Dick answers, concerned.

Danny waves him off, “No, I know that. But this place looks…”

“Rich as shit?” Wally asks gleefully. “Dick sprang for the private suite.”

Dick is turning red. “It only made sense! We didn’t know how open Danny was with his identity! Not to mention we don’t know his last name or have any documentation for him!”

“You wouldn’t have stuck him in a public hospital room no matter what, admit it,” Wally says, cackling.

“You would too if you could!” Dick insists, and Wally hums, nodding as he concedes the point.

“You must be spending a fortune,” Danny mutters, paling as he thinks of just how big a price tag his stay is going to end up costing. “This is way too much, Dick.”

“I have more money than I know what to do with,” Dick says, before he flushes and grins sappily. “You’re worth it.”

Wally pretends to gag behind him, and Danny valiantly doesn’t laugh, while Dick leans closer and brushes a hand through Danny’s hair.

“I like the way you say my name,” Dick murmurs, leaning in, and Danny leans up for a kiss.

Dick kisses him, and he gasps. “You’re warm,” Dick says like it’s a revelation.

“Wait, what?” Wally pipes up, shoving Dick out of the way and kissing Danny himself, hummingbird-quick as ever, multiple brief smooches that leave Danny’s lips tingling. “He is!”

“Wally,” Dick groans, shoving his boyfriend back, kissing Danny again. “My turn.”

Danny giggles, and he laughs into Dick’s kiss, and then just like that, his emotions bubble over and he starts crying, gasping with the suddenness of it.

Dick pulls back and cups his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Danny gasps out, and Wally takes his hand. “I’m sorry I ran away. I panicked and I haven’t been human for so long, and I’m so sorry, I don’t know how to do this!”

His eyes are wide and frightened, and both Dick and Wally’s faces are plainly concerned. Dick runs his thumbs up and down Danny’s cheeks and Wally squeezes his hand, and Danny just breaks down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t leave me,” he cries.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Wally says, almost too quickly to be understood, “we aren’t going anywhere.”

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” Dick promises, “one minute at a time if we need to. You aren’t getting rid of us that easily.”

Danny tilts his face into Dick’s hands, and Dick wipes his tears away. It doesn’t matter that more replace them instantly. The motion is sweet, and Danny feels just a little bit alright.

“I shouldn’t have run,” he says, when he catches his breath. “I just. I panicked.”

“We could’ve brought it up a bit slower,” Dick says, Wally nodding beside him.

“I got excited,” Wally says.

“Me too,” Dick adds.

“Sorry,” they chorus, just like they do every time they make a mess of the kitchen trying to cook Danny breakfast in bed, or lose his gas mask in the mess of the safehouse.

Danny giggles, the sound forcing a bubble of air through his runny nose. “Ew,” he says, leaning out of Dick’s hold, and then Wally is there with a tissue in hand.

“Don’t blow,” Dick chides, and Danny rolls his eyes as he settles for wiping his nose.

“Okay, Mom.”

“Speaking of parents,” Wally says, “wanna meet Dick’s dad?”

Danny chokes. “What?!”

“Wally,” Dick hisses. “What the hell!”

“He’s outside,” Wally says. “I ran past him on the way out and in.”

Dick groans, pushing himself up from the chair. “I’ll go take care of him. Don’t worry about a thing, Danny.”

Wally steals his chair back as soon as Dick moves away. “You should get a doctor too,” he says, ignoring the way Dick is glaring at him for the chair theft. “I’m pretty sure we were supposed to tell them when Danny woke up.”

“Speaking of doctors, how’d they even know how to treat me?” Danny asks, tensing a little.

“We gave them your emergency first aid kit,” Dick says from the far side of the room. “Walked them through what you told us. The doctors here are used to super patients, with all the weirdness of Gotham. They’ve also signed ironclad NDAs, and we trust them, don’t worry.”

With that settled, he walks outside, shutting the door on a glimpse of what must be his father. The man is faintly familiar, but Wally quickly captures Danny’s attention again.

“Any questions before the docs get in here?” He asks.

“What am I gonna do about my identification?” Danny hisses, glancing back and forth between Wally and the door.

“Psh,” Wally says, taking Danny’s hand again and settling back in his chair. “Dick’s got that handled. The Bats are old hands at this sort of thing. Just tell Dick what you want on the paperwork and you’re set. No worries, Danny.”

“And we’re really okay?” Danny asks, still worried about his abrupt exit from the safehouse.

Wally smiles, sad and fond. “Yeah, we’re okay. Dick too, we had plenty of time to talk before you woke up, and I’m sure he’ll tell you himself if you ask.”

Danny sighs, settling back on the hospital bed, finally relaxing.

“Alright.” He says. He thinks for a moment. “Wally,” he says, rolling the word around in his mouth. He meets Wally’s eyes. “It suits you.”

Wally grins. “I certainly think so. I think it’ll sound even better when you’re screaming it.”

Danny chokes a little, then starts laughing. “You’re such a little shit!” He laughs, and when the door opens and Dick walks in with a posse of doctors at his back, he smiles at them both.

And just like that, things are back to normal. It’s the three of them, together, steady and sure, and Danny’s never been more grateful.