[Third Person POV]
Danny was hunched over the bathroom sink, the sound of rushing water filling the silence between him and Dick. Danny scrubbed at his hands like he was trying to erase more than just blood. His knuckles were raw and red, the soap a thin pink foam sliding down the porcelain.
Dick leaned against the tiled wall nearby, his arms folded, his eyes fixed on Danny with that calm, watchful look he always wore when he was trying to be patient. "You want to talk about what that was all about back there?" he asked, raising a brow.
Danny didn't even look up. "No, I don't," he said flatly, his tone a monotone edge. He lathered his hands again, rubbing harder, as if the friction could burn away the memory of what he'd done.
"Okay," Dick said with a scoff, pushing off the wall a little. "Since you won't talk about it, I will. You snapped back there."
Danny's shoulders tensed. "Thank you for stating what I already know, Captain Obvious," he muttered sharply. "Keep that up and you'll be promoted to Major Obvious in no time." His words dripped with venom as he rinsed his hands, the water splashing against the basin.
Dick rolled his eyes but didn't bite back. "Your eyes are glowing, by the way," he said evenly.
"Wha—?" Danny looked up sharply, and his heart sank. His reflection stared back with a bright neon-green glow burning in his irises. The sight made his stomach twist. He gripped the edges of the sink, knuckles whitening as he shut his eyes and lowered his head, breathing slowly, forcing himself to calm down.
"You're lucky that didn't happen when you were beating up Dash," Dick said quietly, his voice low enough that only Danny could hear. "But this means once Bruce finds out, he's pulling you off both school and patrol until you get your act together."
Danny's jaw tightened. "Dick… I love you, but please shut up," he growled, turning his head slightly, his tone a low warning.
"I'm just giving you a heads-up," Dick said with a shrug. "Better to know what's coming before it hits."
Danny exhaled heavily through his nose, grabbing a paper towel and drying his hands in silence. For a few long moments, neither of them spoke — just the faint hum of the light above them and the soft crinkle of the paper towel.
Finally, Danny broke the silence. "So… how far and how long do you think I could make it before Bruce finds me if I run?" His tone was half-serious, half-defeated.
"I'll be impressed if you last a week," Dick said with a grin, the corner of his mouth twitching up.
"Great," Danny muttered. He tossed the used paper towels into the trash, then just stood there, staring into the bin like it might hold some kind of answer.
After a beat, Dick sighed. "Okay, I'll preface this by saying I know this is a stupid question, but humor me — are you okay?" His voice softened, the sarcasm gone, replaced by genuine concern.
Danny didn't answer right away. His jaw tightened as he continued staring at the bin — pale face, tense shoulders, haunted eyes before he shook his head as an answer. "God, what have I done…" he whispered, barely audible. "Sam and Tucker — they were scared of me, Dick. And I wasn't even transformed. I can't even look them in the eyes anymore. I'm too ashamed. I'm not… safe to be around."
Dick shook his head slowly, pushing himself off the wall. "I doubt they were scared of you," he said. "Worried, maybe. If they're really your friends — and I'm guessing they are — then they weren't scared of you, Danny. They were scared for you. There's a difference." He crossed his arms again. "When you get the chance, clear the air with them. You owe them that, and it'll help you, too."
Danny opened his mouth to respond, but the crackle of the school's PA system interrupted him. "Danny Fenton, please report to the main office. I repeat, Danny Fenton, please report to the main office."
Danny's head dropped immediately. His shoulders sagged as he muttered, "Dick, prepare me a funeral."
"What?" Dick asked, smirking a little.
"I didn't have one when I became half-dead," Danny grumbled, trudging toward the door. "I'm gonna need one once I'm fully dead."
He pushed the door open, the hallway lights feeling far too bright as he made his way toward what he could only describe as his doom.
---
Nearly 30 minutes later, Danny was sitting outside the principal's office, tapping his foot against the floor in a restless rhythm. Every so often he'd glance up at the clock, silently counting the seconds.
"What are you waiting—" Danny started to say, but the principal lifted a hand sharply, a single raised finger telling him to stop. He didn't even look over — just continue reading and scribbling things down on the papers in front of him.
Danny sighed, leaning back on the seat, arms crossed, lips twitching with restrained boredom.
A moment later, the door opened behind them, followed by a familiar voice, smooth and calm with a hint of restrained irritation. "Sorry for the wait," said Bruce Wayne. "I was having trouble finding parking."
Danny froze. His blood ran cold. Slowly, he turned his head — and there was Bruce, impeccably dressed, offering a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Without a word, Bruce sat down beside him, hands folded neatly, gaze fixed forward. He didn't even glance at Danny once.
Danny swallowed hard, shrinking into his chair. He stared down at his shoes, feeling about three inches tall. His hands were clammy, his heart pounding like a drum.
He didn't need to look up to know what was coming next.
The principal let out a long, tired sigh as he set his pen down and removed his glasses, placing them neatly on the desk before folding his hands. The lines on his face deepened with weariness as he looked between Bruce Wayne and the boy sitting silently beside him.
"I'm sorry to have disturbed you from your busy schedule, Mr. Wayne," the principal began, his tone cautious but sincere. "But given the… delicate nature of what happened earlier today—and what we briefly discussed over the phone—I'm sure you can understand we were left with no choice but to contact you directly."
Bruce inclined his head politely, his expression unreadable. "Don't worry," he said calmly, voice smooth but with a weight that filled the room. "I understand completely."
He turned his gaze just slightly—just enough for Danny to see the faintest glint of disappointment in his eyes. That small look hit harder than any lecture could have.
Danny's throat tightened. He immediately reached for his hood and tugged it down low, hiding his face as he stared at the floor.
…
When they finally stepped out of the principal's office, the hallway felt colder than before. Bruce's footsteps echoed evenly down the tile floor, and Danny followed a few paces behind him, eyes red and tired.
"Bruce, I'm—" Danny started quietly, but Bruce cut him off without so much as a glance.
"I don't want to hear it." His tone was firm—not angry, not loud, just cold. "Grab what you need from your locker, and let's go."
"Yes, sir…" Danny muttered respectfully, head hanging low. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and turned down the hall.
He hadn't taken more than ten steps before two familiar voices shouted, "Danny!"
Sam and Tucker came running toward him, their faces etched with worry. Danny froze mid-step, caught off guard.
"What are you guys—" Before he could even finish, both of them crashed into him, wrapping him in a tight hug that nearly knocked the breath out of him.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked, pulling back slightly to look at him. Her voice trembled just enough to betray how scared she'd been.
"I'm fine, for the most part…" Danny said softly. "Listen, I'm sorry for—"
"Nah, man, it's cool," Tucker interrupted quickly, waving it off. "There's no need to apologize. Dash is the one who started it. You just finished it. Honestly, he had it coming."
Danny let out a small sigh. "Can people let me finish my sentences for once?" he muttered under his breath. Sam and Tucker shared an awkward laugh, both murmuring quick apologies.
But Sam's expression shifted as her gaze drifted over Danny's shoulder—to the tall man waiting down the hall. "What happened in there? What's going to happen to you?" she asked quietly.
Danny looked at her, then exhaled through his nose. "I got expelled," he said.
"WHAT?!" both of them shouted at once, the word echoing through the empty hallway.
Danny blinked once, then smirked faintly. "I'm kidding. It's just a month's suspension."
"Danny!" Tucker groaned, clutching his chest. "Dude, not cool! You scared me half to death" He said as Sam agreed with him.
'Been there, done that,' Danny thought dryly as he opened his locker and began pulling out his books, notebooks, and a few random gadgets he'd stuffed inside.
Sam leaned against the locker beside him, watching his every movement. "What did Bruce say? About, you know… everything?" she asked hesitantly.
Danny hesitated before replying. His shoulders slumped as he stuffed the last of his things into his backpack. "Not much," he admitted quietly. "But… I think I really disappointed him."
The sadness in his voice made Sam's chest tighten. Without another word, she squared her shoulders and marched straight past Danny.
"Sam—what are you—Samantha!" Danny hissed, reaching out to grab her arm, but she brushed past him before he could stop her.
Sam came to a halt right in front of Bruce Wayne, who was standing by the exit, phone in hand. She crossed her arms and tilted her chin up defiantly. "Mr. Wayne, right? I'm Samantha Manson—Danny's best friend." Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly.
Bruce glanced down at her, one eyebrow arching curiously.
"I just wanted to say one thing," she continued. "Please be lenient with him."
Danny froze mid-motion, his stomach twisting.
Sam lowered her gaze slightly, her voice softening. "Danny's… he's been through a lot. You probably already know about his parents and what happened. He's sensitive, and yeah, he can act out, but this wasn't his fault. Dash is the one who keeps tormenting us. Danny just finally snapped. Please don't be too hard on him."
For a long moment, Bruce just studied her, his expression impossible to read. Then, finally, he asked, "Shouldn't you be in class right now?"
"Uh… no?" she said, her confidence faltering as she gave a weak smile.
Behind her, Danny covered his face with both hands and whispered to Tucker, "Please kill me now."
Bruce sighed quietly. "Don't worry," he said at last, nodding toward Sam. "I'll just be making sure he gets the help he needs during the month he's away."
Sam blinked, surprised by his gentleness, then nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne."
…
Sam and Tucker stood side by side as they watched Danny and Bruce walk toward the exit. Danny's shoulders were hunched, his bag slung over one shoulder, head low. The doors slid shut behind them.
They both stared at the empty doorway in silence.
"He's really going through it, huh?" Tucker murmured, his tone subdued.
Sam nodded slowly, hugging her arm. "Yeah… I just hope Bruce actually helps him, not just lectures him."
…
Outside, Bruce and Danny made their way to a sleek black car parked near the curb. The wind was chilly, the sky overcast. Bruce opened the driver's side door while Danny automatically went for the back seat.
"Up front," Bruce said without looking at him.
Danny sighed heavily and shut the back door, dragging his feet around to the passenger side. He slumped into the seat beside Bruce, avoiding eye contact.
As the car started to roll forward, Danny's eyes caught on two duffel bags sitting in the backseat. His brow furrowed. "Uh… what's with the bags?"
"They're yours, I had Alfred pack them with your essentials" Bruce said evenly, eyes on the road. He turned the car smoothly out of the school lot before adding, "You'll be staying in Metropolis with Superman for the rest of the week."
Danny blinked, stunned. "What?!" he shouted, whipping his head toward Bruce in disbelief.
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