[Third Person POV]
Alfred abruptly stood up from the main chair in the Batcave the moment he saw Danny, Batman, and Robin step out of the shadows — all three soaked to the bone, water dripping off their suits and splattering onto the polished floor. The faint echo of dripping water was the only sound that filled the massive cavern for a few seconds.
"I'll prepare you all a towel," Alfred said with his usual calm tone, already halfway through his turn toward the supply rack when he noticed Danny raise a hand to stop him.
Danny shook his head telling him there was no need before turning toward Bruce and Dick. "Hold still for a second."
He pressed a hand against each of their backs, and within a breath, the three of them turned slightly translucent. A shimmer of ghostly energy rippled around them, and all the water that clung to their clothes and hair fell straight through, pooling harmlessly at their feet.
Alfred blinked once, straightened his posture, and cleared his throat. "...I see," he said with a soft sigh and the faintest trace of amusement tugging at his lips. "Well, in that case, I'll fetch a mop instead — and perhaps something warm to drink while I'm at it."
Danny grinned sheepishly and released his transformation, his white hair and glowing eyes fading back to normal. Robin tugged off his mask while Batman pulled back his cowl, rubbing the back of his neck as the last traces of dampness vanished.
"So," Danny began, glancing between them with a tired but curious look, "how long was I gone?"
"Fifteen minutes," Dick replied instantly, leaning forward on the back of a chair. "One minute you were right beside us, just after we returned to the cave after we took down Penguin, and the next—poof—you vanished."
Danny tilted his head, eyebrows raising slightly. "Ah, I see... so, one minute here for every day I was trapped in that spell." He exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging as the weight of that realization hit him.
"Wait—hold up." Dick blinked in disbelief. "You were gone for half a month?"
"Two weeks, basically," Danny confirmed with a small hum, brushing a hand through his messy hair.
Bruce, who had silently walked over and settled into his chair by the Batcomputer, leaned forward slightly. His gaze was sharp, but there was genuine intrigue behind it. "Two weeks... What exactly did you do during those 15 days? If you feel comfortable talking about it, that is"
Danny groaned softly, pressing his fingers against his temple as if just thinking about it gave him a headache. "A lot," he muttered, his voice dragging with exhaustion. "Like—a lot, a lot. Let's see..."
He began counting on his fingers, his tone alternating between disbelief and dry humor. "Had a talk with Death. Fought Man-Bat, somehow got a girlfriend, then had that same girlfriend kidnapped by the Star Sapphire Corps, invaded their home turf to get her back, took them all down, reclaimed said girlfriend... started taking karate lessons from my mom, invented new ghost-fighting gadgets with my dad, spent time with my sister—only for her to get brainwashed into liking this Ghost Punk guy. So, of course, my whole family and I hunted him down, the world began collapsing because Penguin and Desiree started merging the Ghost Zone with the human world, got a pep talk from my family, hunted down Penguin, almost killed him—Dad stopped me—then I stopped Desiree, said goodbye to everyone, restored reality, broke the spell, freed Desiree... and then, boom. I'm back here."
The Batcave went silent again.
Dick's mouth hung halfway open, struggling to even form a coherent response. Bruce, for once, didn't even try to hide his surprise. Even his stoic composure wavered as he blinked and leaned back in his chair, clearly processing everything far slower than usual.
"Okay," Bruce finally said, rubbing at his temple. "We're going to have to backtrack—because there's no way I just heard all that correctly. Start from the beginning. Slowly. In detail. Because I'm having a hard time believing even half of that."
Dick nodded quickly, looking equally overwhelmed. "Yeah, man, you just dropped, like, a season finale's worth of chaos in a single paragraph."
Danny smirked weakly. "Backtrack? Don't you mean Bat-track?" he said, raising his hand expectantly. "Ayo!"
Both Bruce and Dick just stared at him.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Danny sighed and high-fived his own hands. "Tough crowd…" he muttered under his breath, cheeks tinting pink as he scratched the side of his face.
The smile on his lips faded as he looked down at the floor, his voice softening when he spoke again. "Alright… I'll start from the top."
As Danny began recounting his story. His voice, once light, grew heavier as he went through each event.
By the time Alfred returned, balancing a tray with cups of tea and steaming hot chocolate, Danny was in the middle of describing his brief visit to Wayne Manor during the spell.
"...and then Alfred punched me in the nose," Danny said with a half-laugh.
"Excuse me," Alfred interjected, startled, "I did no such thing."
Danny chuckled quietly. "Not you-you. Dream-you. Or Spell-you. Long story."
Alfred blinked, then gave a resigned nod. "Ah. I see. Carry on, then."
As Alfred handed out the drinks, everyone settled into a strange sense of calm. Danny's voice continued echoing through the cave as he described his two weeks of madness — and even the world's greatest detective found himself listening intently, trying to piece together the impossible journey of the ghostly boy who had returned home.
When Danny finally finished recounting everything, his voice faded into a quiet stillness that seemed to fill the entire Batcave.
He let out a long breath, staring down into his now-empty cup. After a brief pause, he carefully set it back onto Alfred's tray, the soft clink echoing faintly through the cavern. Without saying a word, he stood up and began walking away, his footsteps quiet against the metal floor.
"Danny…?" Dick called out hesitantly, his voice filled with concern. He'd seen the distant look in Danny's eyes — the way the light had dimmed there, like he was staring at something only he could see.
Danny stopped mid-step, his back to them. For a few seconds, he didn't answer. Then, glancing faintly over his shoulder, he said quietly, "I'm sorry, but I'm pretty tired and had a long day. I'm going to bed."
He offered a small, tired smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks for the drink, Alfred. It's… been a while since I had something you made."
With that, he turned again and started walking toward the staircase.
Dick began to rise, his chair scraping slightly against the floor. "Wait, I'll—"
But before he could finish, Bruce reached out and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"But…" Dick began, ready to argue, but Bruce only shook his head. His expression was calm but heavy, wordlessly saying let him go.
Reluctantly, Dick sank back into his seat, clicking his tongue and looking away.
Danny reached the foot of the stairs before pausing again. He turned slightly, his voice carrying faintly through the cavern. "Oh—right, I forgot to mention."
Bruce looked up from his chair, his brow raised.
"My dad wanted to thank you," Danny said, his lips curling into a small, half-formed smile. "You know… for taking me in. For giving me a place here."
For a brief second, Bruce's features softened, a small, genuine smile appearing as he nodded silently in return.
Danny returned the gesture, then continued up the stairs and disappeared from view, leaving behind a heavy, lingering quiet that neither Bruce, Dick, nor Alfred seemed eager to break.
---
Danny lay sprawled on the bed he'd grown accustomed to over the past three months — though after being gone for more than two weeks, it somehow felt different. The sheets didn't feel as soft, the pillow didn't sit right, and even the air in the room felt slightly heavier.
He stared up at the ceiling, unmoving, while the rain tapped rhythmically against the window. Every so often, thunder rumbled above, followed by flashes of light that momentarily brightened the room before fading back into shadow.
He tried to close his eyes. He rolled over once, twice, then again. He buried his head under the pillow to drown out the noise — the rain, the thunder, the whispers of memory echoing in his head.
But it didn't help.
After what felt like half an hour, Danny finally gave up with a frustrated sigh. He kicked off his blanket, sat up, and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction. He threw on a pair of sandals, wearing only a loose tank top and shorts, and quietly slipped out of his room.
The door clicked softly behind him.
Down the hall, another door creaked open. Dick poked his head out, eyes squinting through the dim light. He caught a glimpse of Danny's silhouette disappearing down the corridor and frowned slightly.
"…Danny?" he whispered, but the half-ghost didn't respond.
Curiosity got the better of him. Dick stepped out, closing his own door gently, and followed after him.
He padded down the stairs, his bare feet silent against the cool floor, and soon spotted a faint glow coming from the kitchen.
Peeking inside, Dick saw Danny standing by the open refrigerator, the cold light spilling across his face. Containers shifted and rattled inside as he rummaged through the shelves like a starving raccoon.
Dick reached over and flicked on the light switch.
Danny froze immediately.
He turned his head slowly, caught in the act, the refrigerator door still open. His arms were stacked full of various tubs of ice cream — chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, cookie dough — precariously balanced all the way up to his chin.
For a brief moment, no one moved. Then Danny used his foot to nudge the fridge door shut, his eyes glowing faintly green as if trying to think of an escape plan.
Danny slowly started turning invisible and pretended he wasn't there
Dick leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and a smirk twitching on his lips. "Dude… I literally saw you. Why are you turning invisible?"
There was a pause — and then a low, ghostly echo filled the room.
"~Ooooh, You're dreaming~" Danny's voice wavered dramatically, "~This is nothing but a weird dream, go back to sleep, Ooooh~"
Dick burst out laughing. "Seriously, man?" he managed between chuckles. "You're haunting the kitchen for snacks now?"
Danny reappeared, his guilty grin breaking through the embarrassment as his cheeks reddened. He shifted his hold on the ice cream, balancing them against his chin. "I, uh… got a little hungry. Thought I'd grab a midnight snack."
He looked up with a sheepish grin. "You wanna join me?"
Dick's head dropped as he sighed, still smiling as he sighed in defeat. "You got a spoon?"
Danny's grin widened. "Always."
His eyes glowed bright green again, and one of the kitchen cabinets creaked open on its own. A set of spoons floated out gracefully, spinning through the air toward them.
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