I've been careful.
I knew I couldn't afford to be spotted and Gotham, not yet anyway. I've stayed stuck inside that manor or on its grounds for weeks . Besides that trip to the circus, I haven't gone anywhere, so I wouldn't be recognized as a Wayne.
Just for all of my hard work to blow up in my face.
It's Dad's fault.
He just couldn't leave my things alone. Ever since he saw that blueprint for the portal, he's gotten curious. I know it's different, different than the Fentons or commercial blueprints. It has to be. Working with ectoplasm is different; usual methods don't always work, and when they do, it's not very well. It took the Fentons a lot of trial and error to get where they've gotten, and I commend them, I do, but for me, it's different. There's just something about it that clicks. I can look at a problem and fix it almost instantly .
While I was working on the portals pump, both Dad-man and Tim's bothersome pleas to look at my designs won out. I just couldn't take it anymore. I've designed a lot of things, not just weapons, that run on ectoplasm. For some reason, they thought that my stuff could be " revolutionary" and " part of the next step to achieving clean energy." The next thing I knew, they were dragging me out of the lab with my designs on a USB and taking me to Wayne Enterprises to talk with Lucius Fox.
They had me talking about specifics for hours . Going over different units of measurement, conversions, radioactivity, and cost to produce, amongst other things. Ultimately, I walked out of the building with a contract for a partnership with Wayne Enterprise and Drake Industries.
Under a pseudonym.
Gotta prove I didn't get the partnership through nepotism. I DO NOT want to be a nepo-baby, thank you very much.
Dad, Tim, and I, along with Lucius, are walking out when the paparazzi start flashing their cameras, shouting " Mr. Wayne" and " Brucie." I stagger at the onslaught of lights and get dragged into Lucious' car by Tim. We can hear the shout, " Mr. Wayne! Gotham Gazette, who is that boy? Is Gotham gaining another Wayne?!" through the door.
Lucius puts his hand on Dad's shoulder and leads him to the car, saying " no comment" to anyone in his way. Dad slides into the back with us while Lucius gets in the front and drives us away.
" There goes my anonymity," I groan.
" It's not all bad," Tim says, trying to smile, but it's more of a grimus.
" Maybe for now, but not once Mother and Grandfather find out," I say.
" They're not on good terms last I heard," says Dad.
" Yeah, that means I'm going to be the cause of their reconciliation when they inevitably team up to either grab me or off me," I gripe.
"I'm sorry," Dad says, his eyes shining sincerely, " I hadn't thought they would notice."
I fold my arms, " I thought it would take them at least more than a glance for them to notice that I wasn't Damian. I mean both of you," I gesture to Tim, " and Jason thought I was Dami when we first met, and you see him more than the press does."
Dad gives him an amused look.
" If I may," Lucius interrupts, "While Physically the resemblance is striking, your attire is not. I don't think Damian would be caught dead with a grease stain on his clothes," pointing out the various ones that somehow appeared during our lab visit.
" I guess you've got a point," I admit, sighing, " I'd just rather be introduced on my own terms. Not through blurry photos. How do you all deal with this?"
" I was born into it, but things elevated after the shooting," Dad says, reminiscing, " Dick's never been fond of it, but he's always been an actor."
" He's really good at it," Tim cuts in.
" Jason always hated it, but he tries his best," Dad says.
" And you?" I ask Tim.
" I've always been around it, like B," Tim shrugs, " I'm used to it. Steph got introduced when she dated me. Don't ask. She's just doing what she can to cause chaos." I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole.
" It was an adjustment for Cass and Damian, having grown up with the league," Dad says, not so subtly giving me a look over, " they've got a limit to how much they can take. Which is okay; incidents happen, and we deal with them."
" Is there anything I should make sure not to do?" I ask.
" Now thats a loaded question," Tim remarks.
" You'll be given media training before any public appearances," Dad says.
" Oh, you don't need to worry about that," I say, " I've already had it. A few times, actually."
" Why?" Tim asks, eyebrow raised.
" The first time was because of the Fentons. They've always been a bit eccentric. Jazz, their daughter, and I always ended up giving their apologies," I try to explain.
" Apologies?" Lucius asks.
" They're ghost hunters," I say for clarification, " not just scientists. They're just not very good ones. Whenever something or someone didn't meet their expectations, they would assume a ghost was behind it. Either they were possessed or a ghost themselves. They could only attack so many people before it became a problem."
"So many? Danny, you know people aren't supposed to be attacked, right?" Tim asks.
" Not unprovoked," I say, wondering why he would ask after all, 'Why would I fight someone without just cause? Or at least give them a warring?'
I hear Dad-Man mutter, 'Talia's influence,' though I'm not really sure what he's talking about.
" They also have a bit of a driving problem," I say, continuing the conversation.
" How bad?" Dad asks, sounding defeated.
" Their movements are part of Amity Parks weather reports. If their GAV, the Ghost Assault Vehicle, was on the road or planned to be, the public needs ample warning," I explain.
" Was it just used for ghost hunting or–" Tim asks.
" It's their everyday vehicle," I say, " unfortunately. Anyway, Jazz and I kept messing up our apologies, so she enrolled us in an online media training course."
" Is that all?" Dad asks, "Because regular media training and ones meant for celebrities are very different."
" I also got some once I became friends with Sam; she's the Mansons' daughter," I tell them.
" The toothpick people?" Dad asks.]
" Yep. She doesn't get bothered often, but once she started dragging me to Gallas, her parents insisted that I knew how to " act right."" I say, using air quotes. " Before I went anywhere with them, they always gave us a refresher."
" Is that it?" Tim asks, curious.
" Well, the fruitloop made me do some, too," I say, thinking out loud.
" Fruitloop?" Dad-Man asks.
" Vlad Masters owns Dalv Co., a shady businessman and former Mayor. He was friends with the Fentons during college. He got in an accident, so he can't have any kids. So he decided to make a Fenton kid his heir. It was supposed to be Jazz, but for some reason, he liked me." I mutter, " I don't think anyone ever told him I was a foster, now that I think about it." I shrug it off, saying, "So I got landed with the position. This was all part of his plan to get Maddie to leave Jack and take me with her. Im not sure where Jazz would fit into this plan, but anyway, he talked the Fentons into letting him give me media training said it would be good to know in the future."
"That's..." Tim says.
" I call him Fruitloop for a reason," I deadpan, " he's not a good guy."
" He didn't... do anything he wasn't supposed to?" Father asks, his eyes sharpening into DaddyBats ™ mode.
I fidget in my seat and say formally, " I would prefer not to speak of it," hoping my tone would show how serious I am about the matter.
I watch Father and Tim make eye contact for a moment until Father looks back at me and says, " Okay," dropping the topic.
" So, is there anything you would prefer I don't speak of to or around the press?" I ask, uncomfortable.
"Nothing besides asking you to be vague or not to answer questions about where you have been these past few years or your mother's side of the family," Father says.
" Is that all?" I ask.
" Besides the usual, yes," says Tim, probably referencing nighttime activities.
" I can do that," I say.
" Do you still want to go out for lunch? Or do you want to bring something home?" Father, going back into Dad mode, asks.
" Could we get batburger?" Tim asks.
" Danny?" Dad asks.
" Could we get muffins? Blueberry?" I ask.
" There's a Panera a few blocks down," says Lucius.
" Panara it is then," says Dad, " to go or inside?"
" Can we take it home?" I ask, unconsciously chewing on my lip.
" Sure," says Dad.
We get our food, and Lucios takes us back to the manor. Before I get out, I quickly say " Thank you" to Lucius and follow Tim in.
I look at my muffins and then the stairs, " I take it Gramps won't let me eat this upstairs?" I ask.
Dad snorts, "Not a chance."
I stuff a muffin in my mouth and pass the rest to Tim, " could you put these in the kitchen?"
Tim just shrugs and takes the food. I go up a few stairs when Dad's voice stops me, saying, " I'm here when you're ready to talk."
" I'll keep that in mind," I tell him, moving stiffly to my room.
I faceplant into my bed and groan, "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Way to mess it up, Al Ghul." This day has been exhausting. Being held up in the labs all day brought back many memories, some good, mostly bad. Being in the cave is one thing, but in an actual lab space, around other people, showing off my blueprints. It reminded me too much of Fenton Works. I feel around for my phone, unsure of my next move. In the end, I pick it up and select my first contact, my emergency contact. It rings and rings until, " Danny?"
" Hey, Jazz," I say, whispering.
" Oh my god, it's been weeks! You never called. How are you?" She rushes out in one breath.
" It's been an adjustment," I say. " There's a lot more people around."
" What do you mean?" Jazz asks.
" It seems my Father has a bleeding heart. It's become a bit of a running joke. He adopts anyone he sees in need," I say, " bringing me to one full brother, 3 adopted ones, and three sisters."
" Wow, that's a lot," Jazz says, sounding slightly hurt.
" At least you'll have some more girls to talk about things with now," I say.
" What do you mean?" Jazz asks.
" The two new sisters? With you, that makes three," I say, confused. Was I not clear enough? " You feeling okay?"
" Oh, yeah, sorry my mind slipped away from me," Jazz says, a little choked up, "that'll be nice. At least they'll understand when I talk about Infuriating little brothers."
" Who me?" I ask jokingly.
" Who else," she says with a laugh.
" How's Jack and Maddie?" I ask, changing the subject.
" About the same," she huffs, " they caused a scene once they went down to the lab, though."
" Yeah, about that–" Jazz cuts me off.
" What were you thinking? Deleting everything, shutting them out. They've convinced themselves ghosts did it, some kind of revenge plot. They won't let me out of the house without a spector-deflector."
I take a moment to choose my words before saying, "Their research is unethical. I couldn't let them keep that information, not if there was a chance it could be used to get someone else."
" I...understand that," Jazz says hesitantly. " It's just; they're worse. It's almost like they just opened the portal again. I've had to drag both of them out of the lab. Nightly. Not to mention the revived paranoia. "
" I'm sorry," I say, not meaning to add any stress to her.
"It's just, what am I supposed to do? Ghost X still shows up–"
" Skulker," I interrupt, reminding her again.
" Whatever it's called, what am I supposed to do?" Jazz asks.
" Suck him up in a thermos," I say, emphasizing the pronoun.
" Yeah, but after that? I can't just leave it in there."
" I may have tempered with the bio lock before I left," I admit, not wanting to argue with her again.
" Yeah, I know that. You locked us out of the system," she says.
" No, I locked them out of the system. Not you," I correct.
" Why would you do that? What did they find out?" Jazz asks. " Mom and Dad really want back in." Too bad, so sad
" I trust you'd keep them out. I trust you, Jazz. I know we don't agree on everything, but I know when it comes down to it, you'd do the right thing," I say, hoping my words will remain true.
Jazz takes a deep breath, "Not that it's not good to hear from you. Did you call for a reason?"
" Yeah," I say, swallowing down any remaining doubts, " I might have made a mistake."
"Mistake?" Jazz asks, worried, "You're not in any danger, are you?"
" Not that kind of mistake. I was out with my dad, one of my brothers, and an associate of theirs," I say, " pictures were taken."
" Okay? I'm not getting it, what's wrong?" Jazz asks confused.
" They're kind of famous?" I admit.
" Is that a question or a statement?"
" A statement."
" Danny, who are you exactly?" Jazz asks, more like demands.
" Danyal. Danyal Al Ghul Wayne," admitting it out loud for the first time. The line goes quiet.
" Did they see your face?" She asks monotone.
" I don't think so, but–" I'm cut off.
" You're not sure."
" Yeah," I say, agreeing, " But on the bright side, the pictures should be pretty blurry. I didn't exactly stand still for them."
" Mom and Dad probably won't notice, but Vlad–" This time I cut her off.
" He knows what to look for."
" Have you told Sam and Tucker?" Jazz asks.
" Not yet," I admit, "though everyone is going to find out sooner rather than later. I have my first " official" public appearance in a little more than a week. There's this Gala in Metropolis. Dad is taking all of us. I just wanted you to know in advance before everyone goes crazy."
A boom goes off on Jazz's side, causing her to say, " I've got to go, but thank you for telling me."
" Of course."
" Be safe, little brother; love you."
" Love you too," I say, hanging up the phone.
———————
Danny: um
Danny: Ya might wanna pay attention to the news this upcoming week
Sam:????
Tucker???
Tucker: what does that mean?
Tucker: Danny?
Tucker: DANNY?!?!