#i want to die so bad im tired of trying ive been trying to so long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nabtime · 11 months

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Our Empty Graves VIII

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 8: and ive been the bad guy for so long (im growing tired)

Chapter Summary: Danny has an unexpected encounter in the graveyard. Jason is hunting for someone.

Chapter Notes: title from Villain Of My Own Story by Unlike Pluto Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 9 // Spotify

It’d been one of the last times he’d been Danny Fenton. One of the last times he’d kept up the facade of humanity. One of the last times he ever saw his sister.

She was home for break, traveling all the way back from her fancy college to shack up at Fentonworks because she had no other place to go. He knew she hated being there. Hated being around their parents. Hated being around him.

Ever since his accident (where he died, where he became other) she’d alternated between excessive clinging and cold distance. Like she was afraid of something. Afraid of losing him. Afraid of him. The more he went out as Phantom, the more he slacked in his studies and ignored his friends that ignored him in turn, the more he broke curfew- the more distance Jazz had put between them. Then she graduated, got a full ride, and left- never looking back. Only until she had to.

He’d been bleeding from the side, because in those days it was rarer when he wasn’t, and trying to patch himself up to stem the flow of red-green-red blood until his powers kicked in enough to heal it up. Technus had gotten him with a nasty saw blade attached to an old brick phone that he hadn’t expected. He should have been paying more attention, should have been better.

He really should have been paying more attention to the people in his house.

He’d climbed in from the window- all in human form so as to avoid the ghost shields around the house. His parents never noticed or bothered to check in on him if they did, so he’d been careless about heaving himself in. He hadn’t noticed Jazz standing, arms crossed, in the corner until she’d gasped at the sight of his wound. At the blood. Red-green-red.

He’d seen the bright green glare of his eyes flashing reflected in hers. A mirror image imposed over fear and building rage.

“What did you do with him,” she demanded, voice trembling but furious. She left the shadows of the corner and stalked toward him where he’d frozen by the window.

“What did you do with Danny?” she hissed, like a viper about to strike, ready and willing even if the warble in her words belied her hesitation.

He remained frozen, struck dumb by fear and panic, frantically trying to think of an explanation. An excuse. A lie. Anything to make his sister stop looking at him like that. Stop looking at him the way she had for the past few years.

“I don’t know-,” he stuttered out as Jazz moved closer and closer, anger making her entire body tremble with every step. His voice was scratchy and painful. He hadn’t had cause to speak in weeks before this.

“Don’t you start that,” she snapped, looming over him. She’d always taken after Dad, height-wise. “Don’t you lie to me. I’ve suspected for years what you are. That- that green only proves it!”

“Jazz-”

“Stop it!” she grabbed his wrist, grip strong and bruising. The neon light of his eyes lit her face at a sinister angle, casting her features in deep shadows. Twisting it. “I know my brother. I know he’d never be like this. Danny would never hurt people like you do!”

He didn’t hurt people! He didn’t, he didn’t. Never on purpose. Never because he meant to. And yet. People still got hurt. People got hurt around him and it was still his fault, because he was the one that opened the portal. He was the one that brought hell upon Amity Park.

He could see his own reflection in her eyes, caught by monster that stared back at him. Caught by the fear he found underneath. The fury of his sister.

She lunged, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Where is he?!”

Tears were cascading down both of their faces. The desperation in Jazz’s voice shook Danny to his core.

“I know who you are,” she intoned. She released him when he still couldn’t muster a response, her face falling into a more terrifying blankness. “I know what you are. Ghost. Phantom. Monster.”

He recoiled, struggling in her grip. He wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. He was still himself! Still Danny! Wasn’t he?

“Get out of my house,” she said, back turning to face the wall and her voice still flat. “Get out of his room.”

“Jazz, please,” he croaked.

He didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to give up the last shards of his shattered humanity. It didn’t matter how dangerous it was to live with his parents like this, on edge during every second of the day and never knowing when he’d get caught, get torn molecule by molecule. Because if he was still here, if he was still trying to go to school, if he was still trying to keep his life together, it meant he had one. He never wanted to die. Never wanted to come back like that.

She whirled around and any words he’d been trying to gather to plead his case fled at the sight of her face. She was still cast in dark shadow, but her eyes blazed, still wet with tears. She was angry, she was afraid. She was hurt. He’d done that. He’d done that to his sister. The sister that had practically raised him.

“It would be better,” she whispered. “For them. For me. To have closure. You aren’t my little brother. For whatever reason you won’t tell me, he’s gone.”

She turned again, a sob wracking her thin frame. She was so thin. Where once she’d trained with their mother in martial arts and packed on wiry muscle, she was now skin and bone. Tears she’d shed had only emphasized the bags that laid underneath. She was shaking. Her hair was dry and thinning. He hadn’t noticed before. Hadn’t noticed how much the stress was getting to her. How much she was hurting. His parents had remained oblivious. Jazz had not. He couldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t hurt her like that.

“I don’t know if he’s missing or dead, or- or something else. You won’t tell me.” Her voice was strangled with tears, thin but sharp. “That’s fine. It’s actually not, but I can’t force answers out of you.”

She turned her head, arms clutching her torso in some facsimile of a hug. He could see the fear and apprehension on her. He hated it.

“You’re too powerful. I’ve seen you fight. And I’m no hunter.”

She walked away, towards the door of his room, hand reaching out to clutch the door knob in a white-knuckled grip. “But please, stop pretending he’s still here.”

She left. He left. He never returned to that house.

═════ ◈ ═════

It’d been an all too familiar confrontation when Red Hood finally saw him for what he was. Nothing but a monster. He’d heard the word so many times now, it was imprinted into his very core. Spat in anger at him, shouted in fear at him, whispered in horror at him. He didn’t know why he tried. Why he kept trying to connect. To feel alive again, feel human again. It never worked. He was too unnatural, too beastly. Grotesque.

He died. He was dead, dead, dead. No amount of wishful thinking would change that. He came back wrong. Inhuman. Freakish. The humans feared him and the ghosts hated him. He couldn’t even die properly. Couldn’t be a ghost properly.

Alone. He was alone. And that’s all he would ever be.

He didn’t deserve anything else. He’d hurt too many people. Jazz. His mom and dad. Sam and Tucker. Valerie. Her father. And he hurt ghosts too. Ember, Desiree, Technus. And he’d killed. Ending may not be a one-to-one correlation with murder, but it still wiped a being from existence. If anything the way he’d crushed Pariah’s core was more visceral. The screaming and screaming and screaming. The tearing and ripping and- consumption. He’d crushed Pariah’s core and eaten it. Ghost Hunger, the Fright Knight had solemnly called it. An instinct ghosts had when fighting so viciously, fighting over territory. Pariah had stolen and claimed his Haunt, he’d asked for a fight to the End the moment he’d taken Amity into the Zone. And he lost. And now it didn’t even matter because his Haunt was lost to him anyway. When the people left, so did his reason for protecting his territory. Then, falling into the portal into Gotham had really cemented the loss.

He was just a ghost with nothing to haunt and a long list of people he’d hurt. Red Hood was simply a new name to add.

He wasn’t even sure what triggered it. It had already just been a waiting game, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knew that at some point Red would change his mind, figure out what Danny truly was and act accordingly. He’d been so angry with Danny despite how hard he’d tried to be good this time. He wanted to be helpful, wanted to save people where he hadn’t been. Nobody else needed to know the pain of dying, or the pain of coming back different. But he couldn’t go back out there, out there into the streets. Gotham at large was Batman’s territory and he already knew how the Big Bat felt about him. Crime Alley was Red’s territory and he wouldn’t dare to step foot back there without permission.

It didn’t matter how badly he flinched and had to restrain himself every time he heard a scream.

He wouldn’t leave the sanctity of the tree he’d perched in anyway. Not without the protective barrier of his suit. He’d been in such a frantic hurry when he’d left that dojo that he hadn’t grabbed all his gear. Usually, with it being made of ectoplasm, it would reform if it got torn or ripped. He’d never taken it off though. Not like he had on Red’s request. He could tell that the pants were starting to reform around his legs, but it was taking time. Most of his ectoplasm was going towards his wound from before. It might take up to a week before his suit was fully back. He’d left a lot of ectoplasm back at the dojo by leaving his gear, all of it likely turned to goop by now.

He would just spent the rest of his afterlife (however long that was) in this hickory tree in the cemetery, foraging for nuts when he felt up for it. Nothing much else he could do. Back to square one.

“Yo, Cujo!”

He startled at the shout. Had someone lost their dog in the cemetery of all places? Maybe he could help… No. He’d just scare them. But something about that voice was familiar…

“Ey! I’m talkin to you, puppy dog! Get your florescent ass down here!”

Nadi? Why was she here? And was she- looking for him? She couldn’t be. Sure, they’d ‘talked’ a few times after he’d taken down Charlie for her, but she still didn’t have a reason to track him down. It’s not like he worked for Red Hood anymore. But- Maybe she was in trouble? Did she need help?

Worried, he made most of his body intangible so as not to rustle any of the leaves of the tree and took a peek to check on her.

She stood there among the graves in her usual work clothes, hands on her hips and not a hair out of place. He always wondered how she could walk in heels that tall and if she ever got cold with so little clothing. At least she had on a large fur coat to keep her warm in the chill of the night this time. She also looked kinda pissed though. Charlie hovered behind her, looking nervous and wringing his hands.

It was nice to see the man cleaned up. Access to regular hygiene products and clean clothes did wonders for him. Stable amounts of food and shelter helped him fill out and look less gaunt overall as well. As far as Danny had seen he also took his job seriously, making sure the girls- mostly Nadi- had everything they needed and were well taken care of. He was kind of proud to see the man had come so far.

“C’mon kid, I know you’re up there,” she called, staring straight at the tree Danny was hanging in. “I’m not stupid, baby. Trees don’t glow like that on their own.”

Curse him and his bioluminescence.

Reluctantly he turned invisible and started climbing down the tree, making sure to shake the branches on the way down so Nadi could see that he was coming. He didn’t want her to see him like this, without his mask, without his suit, but he also didn’t want to make her stand in the cemetery all night for no reason.

His feet moved the grass, marking his steps where the sight of his body didn’t. The rustling sound alerted Nadi of his approach and she smiled. It was small and kind of sad but at least she wasn’t screaming.

“What are you hiding for, baby?” she asked softly, looking just past his shoulder. “I’ve seen you before.”

He shuffled in place but made no other move. Nadi sighed and he could see Charlie shifting uneasily behind her. Charlie knew to be afraid of him, even if Nadi seemed naively fearless.

“C’mon now, baby boy. I came all the way out here to see you. It took a shit load of annoying Hood to get him to tell me where you might be, you know.”

And that certainly caught his attention. Hood had told her where he was? Hood knew where he was? He… hadn’t hunted Danny down to throw him out even knowing where he was? Even told one of the people under his protection his location? He had so many questions and no way to ask them.

“Looked like he was gonna blast ya head off if ya didn’t stop, too,” Charlie muttered.

“Oh hush, you,” she said, swatting a perfectly manicured hand towards the other. “Hood wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“You’re fuckin’ nuts, Nadi,” Charlie replied in derision. “Man decapitates people for fun.”

“Mn, whatever,” she dismissed. “Anyway, Cujo, where have you been, baby? I ain’t seen you around at all the past week! And Hood might have told me where you were but he wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

She crossed her arms with a pout, expecting an answer. But he didn’t have one for her. He didn’t want to think about that day in the dojo. Didn’t want to think about the pain. Think about the anger and betrayal he’d seen in Red’s eyes. Danny didn’t know what he did, exactly, but it’d only been a matter of time before Red threw him out anyway. Better now than later when Danny had fully settled in. He didn’t deserve company like this. Didn’t deserve to pretend to be human. Didn’t deserve Red Hood’s generosity.

“Baby,” she said, voice so, so soft and gentle it hurt, “talk to me. Please. I miss my little savior.”

He struggled not to whine with his core, trying to keep the sound in. Her little savior. She missed him. He didn’t know what to do here. Didn’t know what he could even try to communicate. He wanted to disappear on the spot, wanted to leave so she wouldn’t say those kinds of things to him. Things that made him hope. He couldn’t let her do that. But more than that he couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t. He needed to disappear, but more than anything he wanted to stay. Even if it ended in disaster again, he wanted to stay.

His powers flickered with his indecision until he finally dropped the invisibility altogether. He braced himself, closing his eyes even as they filled with tears.

He heard a gasp from Nadi and flinched away. Charlie mumbled a “No fuckin’ way” and he waited for the screaming. Waited for the anger and the fear.

It never came.

“Oh, mi vida,” Nadi cooed. “Look at you. You have a face!”

Charlie, who was standing just behind Nadi and peering around her arm, snorted a startled laugh. He looked disbelieving and wary. But he didn’t look scared. Nadi didn’t look scared either. She stepped closer and Danny held in the flinch at her hands coming close to his face. He almost melted when all she did was cup his cheek and run a hand through his hair. His core rumbled and more tears fell from his eyes at the touch.

He didn’t deserve this. He shouldn’t let her get so close. But he couldn’t pull away. It felt so nice.

“Oh, look at your hair, you poor thing,” she tsked as she ran her fingers through the ragged strands. He’d tried to cut it once, on his own, on one of the last few times he’d been human (pretending to be). He’d been so frustrated with it and he’d already fled the house and it had kept getting in his eyes and its not like he’d had access to scissors. Frustrated ectoblasts did not good hair-cutting tools make. The chunks he’d burned away hadn’t grown back right and the others were growing far, far too long. Not that he’d noticed much before now. His hair stayed under the hood of his suit. Hidden away. Probably why he hadn’t tried to shoot it again.

“This won’t do,” Nadi murmured. “This won’t do at all. Your face is far too pretty for hair like this. It needs to be fixed.”

The words made his face scrunch in confusion. Fix it? Pretty? He was a monster, inhuman. He wasn’t pretty. He couldn’t be fixed.

“Come,” she said, dropping her hands to tug at his arms, gentle, as she started backing up. “Come on. I’m gonna give you a hair-cut, baby. And then we’ll talk about why you’ve been hiding out here.”

He stepped back, phasing his arms out of her grip. He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave the cemetery. If the Batman didn’t hunt him down, then Red would. He’d told Danny to leave. Told him he was a traitor. A monster. He wouldn’t go back into the other’s territory and that’s exactly where Nadi would want him to go.

He shook his head, backing up more to put space between them. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.

“Okay,” Nadi said, holding her hands up. “Okay, mi vida. Don’t go. Please.”

He stopped. Wary.

“You don’t have to talk. But, please, come back with me?”

He shook his head. She didn’t understand. He back up another step, preparing to flee. He shouldn’t have let her get so close in the first place.

“Wait!” she pleaded. And he did. “Is it the hair-cut? Do you not want that? We don’t have to, baby. Just- please?”

He shook his head again. She still didn’t understand. No one ever did. Why was it so hard? This is why he’d never tried before. Never tried to talk. To communicate. No one ever understood. No one except-

He made it to the hickory tree, patting the trunk and looking back at Nadi. He pointedly tapped the trunk again, pointed to himself and then the ground of the cemetery. He pointed to himself, then the direction of the gates and shook his head. Nadi could visit all she liked, but he couldn’t leave. The cemetery, a resting place for the dead, was the only place he belonged anymore. He needed to stop pretending he was still alive and stay in a Haunt he deserved. A place empty and cold aside from the other restless shades.

Nadi deflated, heaving a sigh. “Mi vida, you can’t stay here. This is no place for you. Please, please, come with me.”

He smiled, small and hurt. She was wrong. This was the one place that was for him.

“Okay!” she cried, seeing his intention to return to his new home in the bough of the hickory. He paused. Waiting to see what she would say.

“I’m going to leave,” she declared, hands on her hips. He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “And I’m going to get everything I need. And then I’m coming back and cutting your hair.”

He blinked, not expecting that. She would willingly come back? Willingly see him again? Do a favor for him, even? Why was she so determined? What could possibly posses her to do something like this? What madness had overcome her? This wouldn’t end well. Not for either of them. He shifted uneasily at the thought. She shouldn’t come back. Shouldn’t sympathize with him. Shouldn’t waste her time on him. But it was all so nice. It felt so, so nice. He’d forever be a fool, always falling for the same trap over and over again. Believing he could be with people without it ending in disaster.

Reluctantly, he nodded. He quickly flew back up into the branches of the tree, fleeing at the sight of her smile. He only hoped she wouldn’t get in any trouble with Red on his behalf. It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t seen him as the terrible thing he was yet.

He played with the ends of his wispy hair, the strands floating in the air around him and twining around his fingers like smoke. A haircut, huh? He wondered how she’d even manage that.

It might be nice, though.

═════ ◈ ═════

Bruce stared at the screen for what felt like hours and hours, a question rotating within his mind with no solid answer. Had Jason Todd come back to life? Had his son fallen soldier clawed his way out of his own grave? Had he been alone and confused? Further failed by Bruce when he wasn’t there in time?

Had Jason Todd, his greatest regret, come back just to taunt him? To make sure he knew how badly he had failed? To hurt him so, so completely? He couldn’t sleep for how much it pained him to think that the magnitude of his failure was far greater than he’d first thought. Not only had he let Jason die, but he hadn’t been there to help him when he came back, either.

But how.

The grave was watched. It had sensors. He’d had Jason buried far from the Wayne family plots, closer to the Alley that the boy had grown up in, in order to avoid looting and antagonistically nosy reporters. The grave being further away, he’d put up sensors in order to know the moment anyone not authorized approached. If anyone had tried to disturb his boy’s body after death he should have known.

He hadn’t accounted for Jason getting out on his own.

He’d hoped. In the beginning. Every day he’d visit that grave and wait. And every night, the death of his youngest soldier still fresh, he’d go home disappointed. Bitter with himself. Feeling foolish for thinking there was even the slightest chance. He known that Jason would never come back. Could never come back. No matter what scheme he tried to think of, no matter what favor he tried to think of to pull, there was no reviving him. The brain damage had been too severe. The boy’s body broken beyond anything. He’d seen the damage first hand. He knew what he’d done.

And yet.

There was a chance he was back. There was a chance that his boy had come back. That Jason, however changed, was alive again.

And he was killing people. Spiting Bruce and all he stood for.

He lowered his weary head into his hands, cowl pressing uncomfortably against his face. Why now? Why like this?

Red Hood wasn’t the only mystery to have fallen into his lap either. The green glowing boy was wrapped up in all of this as well. But he didn’t know how. He’d let his temper, his hurt, get the best of him when the boy had first appeared on Jason’s grave. He’d already been scolded thoroughly for that by Alfred, and he had come to regret it some on his own. But that didn’t change the mystery of the boy’s identity. Hell, the mystery of the boy’s species. He was an unknown variable in Gotham and Bruce couldn’t stand to leave it alone. The boy could be dangerous, doubly so now that he’d taken up with Red Hood’s gang.

All he had to go on were rumors.

Security footage shorted out or was taken over by Red Hood in the first place. The blood that had been left after their initial fight had come back inconclusive. He had no record of whatever substance the boy was made of. His intentions were unknown. His power set was unknown (and he had powers, that much he’d been able to glean). His origins were unknown. And every lead Bruce looked into became a dead end.

He didn’t have the time or energy to dedicate to the case, not unless it directly involved the Red Hood. The Jason Todd case.

Thankfully Tim would be coming back to Gotham soon, a small break from his work with the Titans. He could offload the case to Tim and not think about the immense guilt he felt every time he looked at his latest Robin. He’d sworn after Jason’s death that there would never be another, and yet Tim had wormed his way into Bruce’s life and refused to leave. If he distracted himself with Red Hood’s case and gave another one to distract Tim, maybe they wouldn’t have to interact as much and Bruce wouldn’t have to feel so goddamn sad about it.

He’d give Tim the courtesy of welcoming him back before leaving himself. He’d follow his next lead back to Ra’s and question the man within an inch of his life. If he had had anything to do with Jason being resurrected and then subsequently kept from him, he didn’t know what he was liable to do.

First, he’d wait for Robin to come home. He felt like he was always waiting for his Robin’s to come home, they so often left the nest.

═════ ◈ ═════

Harley was waiting.

She knew she was being hunted and there was no escape. That was fine. She didn’t want to escape, she was here to deliver a message to the newest Bat running in the streets. Oh, Red Hood may bot want to admit he was a new Bat, but Harley knew better. Boy wasn’t exactly subtle with his identity and while Brucie B might have trouble accepting the truth, she knew better than anyone that people could have a habit of coming back from the dead. Her dear Mistah J had managed it enough times. Jason Todd coming back and antagonizing his old man was no surprise. That it took him this long to find her was what was surprising.

“Harley Quinn,” said a voice, deep and heavily modulated. Harley wondered if the baby boy wonder had really grown so much or if it was a mask. Or maybe it was a side-effect of his resurrection. Who could tell.

“Baby bird,” she sang, swinging her hammer up onto her shoulder. “Good ta see ya again.”

“How-”

She spun to face her intruder. She was precariously perched on the ledge of an abandoned building out near the docks. She’d been waiting for Red Hood to show his masked face and he didn’t disappoint. She swung her hammer out towards the boy, leaning back over the edge and using it as a counterbalance to keep herself on the roof. Hood kept his gun on her the entire time.

“Puh-lease,” she said, “you may be able to taunt ol’ Batty boy about who you are, but don’t think you can fool the fool here, Jaybird.” She relished in watching the big little guy flinch. “You’re not exactly subtle, ya know.”

“What do you want, Harley,” he asked, although it didn’t really sound like much of a question. She pouted at him. He was the one to hunt her down and, yeah, she might have caused a little trouble to get his attention, but still. She knew what he wanted.

“It’s not about what youse can do for me, but what I can do’s for you.” She swung her hammer again until it rested on the ledge and she leaned on it for support. “I hear ya been lookin for Mista J.”

And she had heard about that. Rumors wafting up from the underground about Red Hood being on a hunt for the Joker. The other rogues thinking the man was insane, he already had a hit on him from Black Mask (not something any of the usual rogues were willing to touch without testing more of Red Hood’s skill (they were mostly insane, not stupid. No one wanted to battle a guy willing to go toe-to-toe with Black Mask and seemed to be winning.)) and now he wanted to tango with the Big Guy? The Clown Prince of Crime?

Rule number one for Gotham villainy- never work with the Joker. Everyone thought they could control him, predict him, work around his brand of crazy. No one ever succeeded. Ra’s got the little bird killed trying to work with Mister J. Penguin got blasted in the ass the last time he’d tried to hire the Clown for help. Harley was the only one that could match the Joker, the only one that could work with him without it backfiring. She was the harlequin to his jester, the tit to his tat.

“You know who I am,” he said. And she did. That was part of the point here. “You know what I want with him. You’d give me your ‘precious puddin’ for nothing?”

She didn’t like being mocked like that, but she let it go. It wouldn’t do to lose her temper here.

“I wouldn’t say it’s nothin’, Little Hood,” she said, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “An’ sides,” she added, trying her best to look sad, “me and Mista J ain’t exactly square anymore. He hurt me good and I’ma lookin’ to hurt him back. I let you attem an’ we both win in the end, ya see?”

“If he hurt you so bad, then why don’t you want revenge for yourself instead of handing it off to me?” he sounded cautious, but willing to believe her. Sucker.

“Well, deep down somewheres in here,” she pointed to her heart, “I still love the guy.” She swooned, nearly falling off the roof with her dramatics, but she kept her place. She knew how to balance, to walk that thin, thin line. “Wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger. You, on the otha hand,” she stopped to sweep a hand in Red’s direction, “gots plenty a triggers to pull.”

“Don’t play with me, Harleen,” he growled. Ooh, so scary. She’d seen that boy in pixie shorts, chasing crime in his greenie-tighties, she wasn’t intimidated by him. He might have a gun, but she had a hammer. And hyenas if the situation called for it.

“Ain’t playin’!” She said, swaying on the ledge with the force of her denial. “Pinky swear!” she held up a pinky, but kept her other hand behind her back, crossing her fingers.

“Heard ya got a doggy to play with anyhow,” she said, distracting. She knew his little friend had run off without him. Poor boy had never been any good at playing nice.

“Ran away,” he said, voice curt and closed off. Ooh, she’d definitely hit a sore spot.

“Aw, that’s too bad!” she cooed, before stretching her face into a wide, sharp grin. “Was hopin’ we could play fetch.”

“Tell me where he is or get shot, Quinn,” he growled. Oh, maybe the nerve was a tad too sensitive. Oopsie.

“Party pooper,” she pouted. She swung her hammer up onto her shoulder and sauntered closer, ignoring the had tightening on the gun still pointed at her head. She knew he wouldn’t shoot. He needed her intel too much. Boy was too much like his dad for that.

“Alright,” she said, “Mistah J is gonna be havin a little party. Don’t know why, just that he is. And I so happen to have an exclusive in-va-ta-tion.” With that she pulled out a little card and waved it around in the other’s face.

He made a grab for it and she pulled back. “Ah, ah,” she sang. “You gotta promise you let me know when you RSVP. I wanna see you crash his shindig, ya dig?”

“Fine,” he bit out. And Harley could just hear him grinding his teeth. Gosh, she loved riling up the Bats. He snatched the card out of her hand and she let him. He pulled out a grapple (classic Bat behavior) and was about to swing away before she shouted after him.

“Maybe you can bring your little doggie friend too!”

She laughed as she dodged the bullet that embedded itself into the concrete where she’d been standing a second earlier. Oh, what a fun little bash they would have. She clapped and laughed as she hopped down the fire escape, switching to a jaunty whistle as she strolled the docks. She knew why her puddin’ was throwing his soiree. Knew that it wasn’t something the baby bat could crash. Not when he was the guest of honor! Sure hoped he liked the cake they picked out for his welcome home party! And the explosives!

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

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