Broken Ghost (A Danny Phantom, Young Justice, and Batman Crossover)

~7~

          A few hours later saw the lone halfa shuffling through the dirty Gotham streets. Silent tears fell to the pavement as he mentally fought with himself.

          Why was I so powerless? How could I be so irresponsible to allow myself to be captured? And at the sake of my friends. My friends . . . my . . . friends . . .

          Pull it together, Fenton! What the heck is wrong with you? You're tougher than this! You're stronger than this! You've gotten over them, and you've moved on. You're supposed to be untouchable now! SO SUCK IT UP!!!

          Dark, menacing clouds circled overhead, a certain promise of thunderstorms, but Danny paid no heed. At this point, he could care less.

          But . . . but why couldn't I save them? The only people who mattered in my life, mattered most to me, only to be ripped from my hands? So why? Why? WHY ME?!

          A steady stream of rain began its decent, ever increasing in abundance as the young man's thoughts took a dark turn.

          Without them, what have I been doing? What am I doing? There's nothing left for me here, nothing to-wait. No. No . . . this is too much like . . .him . . . I have to stop this. Need a distraction.

          The raven-haired teen glanced around absently for a second, then determining the area free of bystanders, transformed. He felt the familiar cool rings wash over him once more, then invisibly and intangibly took off into the atmosphere.

MEANWHILE, AT THE BATCAVE . . .

          The Dark Knight and his protégé stared at the vacant bed for a moment, then at each other.

          "Bru-."

          "That was Danny," interrupted Batman, knowing what his son would ask. "A strange meta-human I came across recently. And from what I gather, needs a bit of help."

          Robin shook his head, ruffling his jet-black hair. "Man, what happened to you? Taking in random supernatural kids all willy-nilly. It's definitely not like you."

          The Worlds Greatest Detective scowled for a moment before replying. "I saw something in him that reminded me of myself. Much like you, only . . . different."

          The bird tilted his head slightly, crossing his arms. "How so?"

          Batman merely shook his head. "This is none of your concern. What were you telling me before?"

          "Well, the team and I had finished our scouting mission, and we didn't find much," he reported with an eye-roll. "Wait, no I take that back. We did find a strange signature near Amity Park and in other places like Dimmsdale, Bellwood, Burgess, and some areas under the ocean. Weirdly enough, if we were able to get close, the places where the signals originate the most are in white government facilities. But that's about it."

          The Dark Knight rubbed his chin in thought. "Hmph. I will let you know if the team has another mission concerning these signatures and facilities. Until then, I have a new mission for you."

    His protégé instantly perked up. "Really? Whatis it?" 

   ***

          A young specter rocketed unseen through the forecast sky of the city. His eyes watered, but he stubbornly refused to let more tears fall, opting to clench his fists and grit his teeth, as was custom now.

          He pushed himself faster the more his attention turned to the past. Currently, the anti-hero was most likely soaring at speeds close to mach ten, not nearly as fast as a certain speedster nor the Man of Steel, but very close.

          The boy flew so far that he had left Gotham was nearing Happy Harbor, its skies much clearer than the muggy Gotham. He kept at it, only flying faster, all the way to the ocean, where after a moment of thought, dove deep into the waters. Only then did he slow to a stop, dropping his intangibility and allowing the water to soak into his ghostly clothing.

          For a while, Phantom just floated around the base of the ocean, thoughts quieted and mind silenced. He fiddled with the seaweed, poked at the random fish he saw, and even half-buried himself in the wet sand. A persistent little voice in the back of his mind shouted in protest, complaining that it was unbelievably childish, but Phantom ignored it, enjoying doing nothing for once.

           Until he heard a new, masculine voice speaking in a garbled tongue.

           The ghost boy whipped his head around, narrowing his eyes in suspicion at the dark-skinned young man floating before him. Strange tattoos spiraled up his well-built arms, he had bleach-blonde military haircut, and wore a red tank with black-rimmed sleeves, a black belt with a golden symbol similar to a horse shoe, dark navy skin-tight pants with fins jutting out of his calves, webbed fingers, and gills tracing the sides of his neck.

           Phantom tensed, clutching his scythe close, as the Atlantean tensed as well.

          "Poios eisai?" the fish-like man repeated. "Den fainesai Atlantean."

          The white-haired teen continued to scrutinize the young man, hiding his growing confusion and curiosity behind a stoic mask.

          The Atlantean tried again. "Uh, Aouste me?"

          Phantom remained still, preparing for a fight.

          "Boreite na milisete me tin Atlantik?"

          ...

          Then the strange visitor sighed. "Are you Atlantean?"

          Finally, English!

          ". . . no," replied the ghost, still skeptical and trying his hardest to suppress his relief in communication. Especially if this miscommunication resulted in a beat-down—by him, of course.

          "Then how are you surviving under water for so long? You can't be human," the young man stated, raising an eyebrow.

          Phantom just shook his head, chuckling darkly to himself. "Yeah, definitely not normal."

          The fish-man crossed his arms, yet never let his guard down. "Then who are you?"

          The young anti-hero met the Atlantean's eyes, pale teal clashing with cold ice blue.

          "Just a broken ghost who's lost his way," answered Phantom before turning invisible, intangible, and flying away, leaving a very confused Atlantean behind.