stobin vegas wedding (steddie)
“I didn’t cheat on you,” is the first thing he says when Eddie picks up the phone.
Eddie pauses. “O…kay? That’s a weird thing to say to someone you didn’t cheat on.”
“I promise we did not sleep together.”
“Steve, you’re starting to worry me a little here. What did you do?”
He rubs the bridge of his nose. “I…may have drunk married a lesbian in Vegas.”
There’s a long silence. Steve’s palms start to sweat, sure he’s about to be broken up with. Then—
“Are you laughing?”
The lesbian’s name is Robin.
“Can I meet her?” Eddie asks. “I want to meet her. Give her the phone. She’s the Jolene to my Dolly, I have to talk to her.”
“She didn’t take your man,” Steve protested. “There is no man-stealing going on here. She’s just…a woman I married.”
“Wow,” Robin says, watching him with raised eyebrows. “Glad to know my role in your life has been reduced to wife. And so soon after we met?”
“Shut up, Jolene,” he hisses.
“Stephen! Don’t talk to your wife like that!” Eddie scolds. “C’mon, put her on.”
He sighs and gives Robin the phone.
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Part SEVEN of "Clone Danny"
Red Robin, Danny recognizes, steps away from him as he sits up. "My name is Phantom," he signs, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes. (From Red Robin's perspective, it looks like he has no eyes. There lacks his signature green glow.) "I'm not a gang member, just an out-of-town vigilante."
Red Robin frowns at him, an uncertain grip on the bō in his other hand. "Phantom?" He repeats, no lacking amount of suspicion in his voice. "How can I believe that?"
Right. Yeah, okay, that's fair. Danny shrugs at him, and slumps against the wall. "Google search?" He gestures, he's been out in the daytime before and he's seen the news articles about him.
Red's eyes narrow at him and Danny simply draws his knees up and faceplants into them, half-listening to Red's murmurs into his comm while also trying to get some extra-shut eye.
("Oracle, can you pull up anything on a vigilante named Phantom? The guy here is claiming to be one." Tim says.
"On it."
"Is this Phantom wearing a white mask?" Bruce asks, his voice gruff like an aftershock. "There's a vigilante who shares the same name, but he resides in Illinois."
"Is this guy from that Amity city you visited ages ago?" Says Tim, before shaking his head. "Don't answer that. Yes, he's wearing some freaky mask. I said it reminded me of Hood's helmet for a reason."
"I've got something," Oracle interrupts, "Bats' right. as usual. The Phantom of Amity Park, not much stuff of this guy but he's only been out for over a year. Apparently, his rogues' gallery consists of ghosts."
"Oh great.")
"Look tell the Batman that I'm sorry for trespassing on his turf," He signs irritably when Red Robin eventually starts talking to (re: interrogating) him again. "It's not like I want to be here."
"How did you get in Gotham anyways?" Red Robin questions, batman was on his way to help deal with the situation but Tim doubted he wouldn't get caught up on the way with dealing with petty crime. "Your turf is nearly a thousand miles away from here."
"Two words." Danny deadpans, "Teleport ghost." (Red Robin winces sympathetically.) "I'm keeping this bastard in the thermos for a month for this alone."
(Danny was ignoring the slow-choking anxiety growing in his lungs over how he was gonna get home. He never takes his phone when he goes out, the risk of breaking it was too high. He had no way of contacting anyone to get him home.)
(He swallows the growing lump in his throat, and buries the feeling in the back of his mind.)
"Thermos?"
Danny unclips his Fenton Phantom Thermos off from his belt loop and shows it to Red Robin. "My ghost-catching device," He says with one hand, tilting it carefully for Red to inspect. "I wish I could say I made it, but its a FentonWorks invention."
(He wasn't sure if it was a smart idea to say who it belonged to, but saying it wasn't his probably loosened up any tracks on him, right?)
"Do you work with these Fentons, then?" Red asks, and something dark and shadowy flickers from the corner of Danny's eye. He glances over, and sees nothing, and his hackles raise.
(Either that was Batman, or a ghost, or Danny's mind playing tricks on him. He couldn't feel his ghost sense building in his throat, so he decided it was either the latter of the former.)
Danny snorts, quiet and gruff. "No." He clips his thermos to his belt again, stifling a smile on his face. "The Fentons hate me actually, I prevent them from catching ghosts themselves. Their son gives me their tech."
He had a cover story, so he might as well stick with it, right?
Batman shows up at that moment, appearing atop the little roof where the door is, and giving Danny a heart attack when he speaks in his low, rumbly voice like thunder rolling in, "Why would they hate you for that?"
Danny shoots up to his feet with a startled yell in his throat, clutching his chest as he whirls around and looks up. He nearly runs into Red Robin, and signs a few choice swears at the Bat.
"wow you're scarier in person, asshole."
"you didn't answer my question."
"Of course I didn't, you scared me." and Danny takes a trembling step back when the Batman jumps down and lands on the roof in front of him. He's faced ghosts before, but somehow the living is always scarier.
"But, um, the reason is a bit.. complicated, I guess." He says, fingers beginning to shake as his adrenaline wears off. God is he tired. He wants to go home. "The Fentons are the local ghost hunters and local crazies. I don't know if I can call them mad scientists because they're harmless to the living."
"But they're extremely anti-ghost. I've heard from their son multiple times the very unethical things they would do to ghosts if they got their hands on one."
Danny 'talks' a little more before calling it quits, even telling Batman that he can't tell him more without putting his identity at risk.
Plus, its getting harder and harder to hide his bone-deep exhaustion and his growing fear of being stranded in the most dangerous city in America with no way home.
"I would love to tell you more, believe me I'm dying to." Danny signs, shaky sarcasm dripping from his fingers. His hands are visibly trembling and he's withholding a slowly growing panic attack. "But I would like nothing more than to figure out a way to get home."
"Do you have no one to contact?"
"Sort of. But only one of them could probably come get me and get me back to Amity by sunrise. And I have no phone."
That one person being Ellie.
=====
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8
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prompt 03: angry colors
inspired by this post abt dick
tbh idr like this that much but it was a real big brain itch so i thought i'd air it out
-
Dick came back to his apartment much later than he intended, losing track of time while he was tracking a lead he had gotten for a case. He sighed as he slipped through the window of his apartment, taking off his domino ready to face the mess he knew he had left the apartment as. But when he turned into the kitchen the dishes that had been piling up in the sink were gone, and the sink was even cleaned and shining in a way Dick hadn’t seen it ever do. Instinctively he checked the cabinets to check if he had been robbed, but the dishes were inside, clean, dry and put away.
Confused, Dick opened the fridge to get a cold glass of water only belatedly remembering he had forgotten to fill the jug up in his rush to get to work that morning. But there it was, full of water, the frost around the glass providing evidence it had been in there for at least a few hours. Maybe past-Dick had done him a favor that present-Dick had forgotten about.
Gulping down the cold water, Dick headed towards the bathroom to freshen up and change into comfy sweats. The bathroom was through the living room, where he knew he would find a tower of pizza boxes weeks old, and crumbs would crunch under his feet. There was a pile of dirty laundry that was left in his bathroom floor that he should probably take care of, but Dick couldn’t find the energy in himself to put in the effort.
“Maybe tomorrow.” Dick mumbled to himself for the 5th time that week, as he trudged through his apartment. His crystal clean apartment. There were vacuum marks on the carpet, no pizza boxes, and the pillows on the couch had been arranged and fluffed. The flowers Kory had given him were pruned and placed beautifully in a glass vase he knew hadn’t been there that morning. The TV was on, he noticed, his current show ready to play at the press of a button, and remote placed on the corner of the sofa he always sat at.
“What is happening?” Dick asked himself out loud, befuddled. He checked the room for cameras or listening devices. Nothing.
Alfred wasn’t the type to drop by for a surprise visit and leave without telling Dick.
The bathroom was also a victim to whatever happened to the rest of his apartment. The floor had been mopped, the clothes were gone, the toilet, shower, and sink were clean and organized. There was even a clean towel and Dick’s favorite lounge set ready folded by the shower. The grime on Dick’s body felt out of place in the pristine apartment.
Dick would definitely be looking the gift horse in the mouth. But maybe it could wait after he showered.
While he showered, Dick let his mind wander. He thought about the strange newfound cleanliness of the apartment, wondering what or why it could’ve been. Was this another Tim situation? Something nagged at the back of Dick’s mind, something important, but he couldn’t remember what.
That something important was in the living room, head snapping in Dick’s direction as the bathroom door opened, and standing at attention.
Holy shit. Dick forgot he had a kid. He’d forgotten a whole child was living with him now.
Oh, he was such a dick.
“I didn’t hear the door so I didn’t know you were home yet.” The boy- Daniel - rushed to explain when he caught Dick’s eyes on him.
Still grappling with the fact that he had fully forgotten there was a child he was supposed to be taking care of now, Dick said the first reasonable response that came to mind. “I used the window,” Daniel already knew about Dick’s night job as Nightwing thanks to the circumstances Dick had found him under.
Dick wasn’t sure why that answer had elicited a panicked apology from the 8 year old. But Dick wasn’t sure what had happened to Daniel before he had found him, but apparently they would have to dig into that at 4:30 AM. Maybe Dick should call off work tomorrow.
Dick tried to get closer to Daniel but when his shoulders seemed to go impossibly more stiff, Dick took the sign to stay in his spot and kneeled on one leg so he would be face level with Daniel. “Daniel,” Dick made sure his voice was calm and inviting but the boy still flinched, “Did you clean the apartment?”
“Yes, sir.” There was fear in Daniel’s eyes that Dick couldn’t help but be concerned by, but his voice was even when he spoke.
“Why?” Dick asked calmly, making sure to keep his body language open.
Daniel looked startled by the question, eyes darting over Dick trying to find the answer he thought Dick was looking for. When he couldn’t find it he looked around the room. Dick watched him, waiting for his response. “Because,” Daniel started hesitantly, voice shaking slightly, “Because it was dirt- messy.” his voice was a whisper as he spoke.
“But you didn’t make that mess, so why did you clean it?” Dick prompted, fearing for where he could see this conversation going.
“So you- so that-” Daniel looked like he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond.
“I want you to be honest, Daniel. You won’t get in trouble.” Dick added quietly.
Daniel tried to decipher if he was lying, a familiar analytical look in his eyes. After a long moment Dick wondered if he just wouldn’t respond. But when Daniel answered, it hadn’t been at all what he had been expecting. “So that you wouldn’t be angry at me.”
Coupled with his earlier fumble of forgetting the kid, Dick felt like he had just been gutted. “What?” Dick heard himself say. Daniel looked alarmed at the reaction, so Dick spoke again quickly. “I’m not angry at you Danny,” a nickname he had given the boy slipped onto his tongue, “I’m not angry at all why would you think so?”
Tears were beginning to well in Daniel’s eyes, “You are angry.” He sounded scared, his voice wobbly.
“I promise I’m not angry. Or mad. Or annoyed. Or irritated.” Dick reassurances seemed to do nothing for the boy. The reservoir under Daniel’s eyes was getting fuller, threatening to spill. So he tried a different approach, “What makes you think I’m angry, Danny?”
“Because the-” Daniel tried to find the words, so Dick waited. “Your heart has angry colors.” He finally said.
Dick tried to decipher what that meant. Angry colors? He’d have to circle back to that later. “So you cleaned the apartment because you thought I was angry?” Dick summarized.
Daniel nodded, he considered something for a moment. “Jazz said that if you’re good at something then people will like you and not be angry. And I’m good at cleaning.”
“Did the people you were with before get angry at you a lot?” Dick asked, trying to keep his promise of not getting angry.
“That’s why I cleaned.” Daniel nodded.
Dick forced himself to stay calm. He may have a meta child that could sense emotions in his hands and he did not want to test that theory by blowing up in front of him.
Not a child- he corrected himself- his child. Danny was his son. And maybe Dick didn’t know how to be a dad, but he knew how not to be a dad. And that had to be some kind of start. Today would be a one time thing, Dick promised himself, and Danny would never know and never feel like he was forgotten much less by his dad.
He would save the conversation about that for the morning, after a good night's sleep. “How about some ice cream, since you worked so hard?”
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