I plan on drawing Danny in one of these, which do y'all think would be better for him?
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Danny never liked it when Youngblood would cry so seeing him in such a peaceful position was relieving. Danny wasn't leaving until he woke up, or until his parrot pal came to get him. He said morning, right? Danny didn't believe him, morning meant afternoon and every time after was later than told.
Danny flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, the curtains over his windows were closed so light was forbidden. He didn't much mind, more so he was grateful his friend could get some sleep. He mumbled constellations to himself.
Memories of Jazz echoed through his skull subconsciously.
"What do like about the constellations so much? It's just a bunch of stars."
Jazz and Danny sat in front of a TV watching another shuttle launch. Danny said this one was his favorite. Granted, he said that about ever tape they watched. He held an astrology book in his lap as the TVs lights and colors flashed across his face forming shadows on the side of his face. "They are not just stars. Stars are made of gas and hold stories."
Jazz smiled slightly scooting over to her brother's side and crossed her legs. Lights shouted at her face, the sound of the shuttle shooting up into the atmosphere had grown annoying after the first three they watched before hand. "How about you tell me about the stars? Their stories I mean, maybe I'll learn to like them more." Jazz said putting her hand on the astrology book.
Danny's eyes lit up and he gasped. They twinkled and Jazz couldn't help but smile. She didn't want to watch shuttles launch or read astrology books but anything was better listened to than they're parents arguing. It wasn't harsh but they fought over Purgatorio. How it was built and why it was there to begin with. Jazz hated it when her parents fought over, in her opinion, meaningless things.
But Danny knew they were fighting, why else would Jazz be with him and not in the kitchen making lunch like she usually would? Jazz had it on her schedule of when to make lunch and she hated not following the rules she'd given herself.
Danny hated when his parents fought.
Just keep talking about the stars.
Danny was shaken awake by a refreshed Youngblood with renewed energy. He must have fallen back asleep. He pushed Youngblood away and sat up. Danny felt his insides shake in place, even with enhanced healing over the past few days, he was still injured. He had reminded himself that his organs were fairly new and, because of constant extraction, needed time to heal. His body did think it was dead after all, hopefully healing will persuade his body that he was not all dead.
"I'm up, no need to shake me- what's with the face?"
Danny held his head with a hand to help with the headache, it did. Somewhat.
Youngblood was breathing really fast but looked relieved, and the desperation in his eyes and mouth were obvious. His hands shook and his eyes twitched looking for something, Danny wasn't what he was looking for.
"Are you okay? Why were crying? Did you have a bad dream?" Could it even be considered a bad dream? Or maybe it was considered a hint to accept reality for what it was.
Jasmine was dead. Reality was cruel and those who accepted it for what it was were as so. Danny reached for his face and noticed he was crying. Yes, he had been and still was, he couldn't stop it but tried to anyway. He wiped his face and eyes causing his face to redden. His eyes glowed and flashed, his legs flashed in out of visibility and invisibility.
"What's wrong with me? Why won't it stop?" He wasn't expecting an answer. Clearly not from Youngblood.
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Batman was with Alfred in the Batcave looking for info on the 'Ghost Zone'. Nothing was there besides news reports from Danny's parents claiming to have built a machine to open a portal to the supposed spectrum. According to Vlad, this was not a place you could just waltz on into, it was not within their perception of reality. He had a machine of his own that he'd built.
"Why would someone build a machine to see into a different perception?"
"Master Bruce, why did you choose to adopt five young boys?"
Bruce smiled slightly and Alfred returned it with the same smile. "Experience can lead to wonderful things. Maybe that machine was built so you could meet Young Daniel?" Not a coincidence. If it was it was extreme.
All of a sudden, something inside him twitched. A feeling of uneasiness, a sense that he was forgetting something. It wasn't the first time he had gotten this feeling and he knew exactly what it meant. "Alfred, look into this for me, I'm going to check on Danny," he said and speed walked to the elevator doors.
He straightened out his buttoned-up shirt and waited impatiently to reach the upper levels of his house.
Bruce was not a compulsive man nor a reckless one. He could be but years of grief after his parents' deaths had told him not to. Then again, it didn't mean he hadn't, therefore, restarting the cycle. He didn't much care for how he acted in those states where his memory was diluted, but when he thought about it, he would self-loath. The news would recap it in their way and he would take what he could and make it play out the way it should. But the would have was left unsaid. 'Should' told the story of a vigilante hero that would have played by a specific set of rules made by him for him. 'Would' implied that he'd lost himself in a sense of drunken rage and end up killing someone.
He promised himself he would never do that again, but with Danny...
Danny was going through the exact stages he went through, with its own smaller details leaving the biggest impressions on him. He had lost himself once and almost froze the entire living room and crushed the bones of his captures in a cacoon of ice. Instead of anger taking over Danny, he was lost in fear of being taken.
Vlad already explained what such events can cause his powers to go through a tantrum, fear being the main player. Though, why such fear would be attached to a child like Danny didn't make sense. Danny was a smart, energetic, and closed-off kid, but he was never in fear that left him wondering if he'd lose someone. If he was, he was very good at hiding it. He had this fear that said he would be taken away from those he loved. In a way, he had been. Both literally and emotionally. His family was not killed in Danny's mind, they were only gone, they were taken to a place he wasn't allowed. Bruce understood that.
So what was he having fear for? What did he fear he would be taken?
Bruce walked along hallways looking for Danny's room and when he found it, he heard two voices, one of which he did not know. He opened the door and looked at Danny but there was no one else there.
"Bruce! What are you doing here?"
"I had a feeling something was wrong. I was correct."
Bruce sat beside Danny who's eyes moved towards the side beside him motioning for someone to move and it clearly wasn't Bruce. A small wisp of blue mist left Danny's lips. Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Want to tell me why you're crying?" Bruce asked going to pet Danny's head. "I don't know, but it won't stop. How do I make it stop?!" Danny asked wiping his eyes again? His sleeves were soaked with salty water and his face was cherry red. Bruce sighed and sat Danny on his lap wrapping his arms around Danny. He rested his chin on Danny's head. Danny stared at something, Bruce wasn't sure what he was focusing on but it was on the wall. Someone else was in here and Danny was staring at them, Bruce knew so.
"Who else is in here?" he asked rubbing circles on Danny's back. "You can't see him but he's my friend from the Ghost Zone. He spent the night, he's not in trouble, is he?" Danny asked wrapping his skinny arms around Bruce's arm that wrapped around Danny comfortingly. "I wished you would've asked, but it's fine. Next time you should ask though, okay?" he stated.
"Jasmine used to scowl him when he'd make a mess of my room," Danny said. The tears continued to grow. Bruce heard a soft breezy chuckle from where Danny had been looking.
Bruce knew Danny's friend was sitting on the bed and possibly looking at them. He didn't look the least bit, or felt, panicked. He worked with aliens, a girl who was made of clay, a man who ran faster than the speed of sound, so how were ghosts any different?
Of course, he knew very little about ghosts and the only unofficial evidence he had was conspiracy theories from a website no more reliable than Wikipedia for Google. Vlad told him very little and seemed amused by his helplessness. Danny never said anything bad about Vlad but Vlad sure wasn't one to let info go without a price. He was humoring himself with surprises that Bruce would face.
"Oh... okay, bye."
Danny looked over at the window before sighing. The cold still air in the room shifted and Bruce wrapped his arms tighter around Danny. "I'm sure he'll come back." Bruce stated softly. Danny leaned into him and realized why he was crying. He finally gave in to his feelings. To vulnerability. "He's going to approach Final Death soon," he stated simply, his voice muffled. Bruce raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to need you to elaborate."
"Its what happened to, Jazz. She found a book for ghosts called the Final Death. When a ghost 'matures' it starts to fade away and goes to the Final Death, but you don't have to be a ghost to experience it. It happens when we die."
"Youngblood sounds like the name of a rebellious teen, so I'm going to assume he's growing up in the afterlife. You did say 'matures'."
"He is, but... I don't want him to leave!"
Danny broke out into sobs and cried desperately for Bruce to tell him everything would be okay. He knew he wouldn't because that wasn't true.
Danny didn't want to see any of his friends experience the Final Death. He never told anyone but he's immortal, and that straight sucked. Why'd he'd have to walk into the machine? Guess curiosity half kills cats.
He wasn't dying anytime soon so he might as well learn to endure the pain and suffering brought by death. But he was so young to even know the true meaning of death, to know the truth about immortality.
For now, he was going to be nine years old. For now, he was going to cry his little eyes out. For now, he was going to bathe in the comfort of his adoptive father. His fingers softly caressing his back and using his free hand to pet Danny's unruly hair.
For now, Danny was going to be the little kid he was. No fighting ghosts or government spies. Forgetting where he was for a minute. Forgetting his problems. For now, it was just him and Bruce.
Danny and his father.