[ I just want to start this chapter with a quick disclaimer. There will be two prominent ships in this fanfiction. Not for fluff reasons but purely for plot and to move the story along. One being Danny x Jason. And considering how romance isn't my strong point, it could be taken as just .. a really close friendship. At least up until certain scenes. And even then, you could most likely skip past them. The second ship won't happen for .. a while ]
Chapter Eight
"In everybody's life there's a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can't go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That's how we survive."
― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
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"Ectoplasm..."
Jason blinked, his brow furrowing slightly as he processed the unexpected murmur. "What was that?"
Danny let out a shaky breath, his gaze drifting pensively. "Ectoplasm," he repeated, the word carrying a weight of frustration. "Glowing and green, like water .. It's too thin here in Gotham... maybe if I was in—" He halted abruptly, cutting himself off before completing his thought. "Maybe if I had more ectoplasm, o-or an ecto-dejector .. I'd be able to... to transform."
"Ectoplasm..." Jason echoed softly to himself, the word stirring distant memories buried deep within his consciousness. Although hazy, he vaguely recalled that ectoplasm was purportedly omnipresent—albeit very thin when outside the realms.
But finding sufficient ectoplasm in the heart of Gotham posed a formidable challenge. Where would they—no. Where would he even begin to search?
As the gears of his mind turned, Jason felt the stirrings of an idea taking shape—a risky proposition, but at least it had been an idea.
"What if.."
He paused, allowing the idea to fully fully in his mind before daring to voice it aloud.
Although it was a risky one. He knew he shouldn't suggest it, but it was the only thing he could think of.
"What if the ectoplasm doesn't need to be pure?" he ventured, his voice tinged with uncertainty. It was a long shot, he knew, he didn't even know if *it* was actually ectoplasm or not. But in their desperate situation, they couldn't afford to dismiss any possibility without thorough consideration.
But what else screams ectoplasm besides glowing green substance? It's just boiling in his case, swirling with an ominous energy that seemed both familiar and foreign. And it harms the living .. okay, maybe it wasn't ectoplasm. But it was the only idea he had.
"Mm?"
"In Gotham, there are bodies of water called Lazarus Pits," he began, the words forming slowly as he wrestled with uncertainty. "They fit the glowing green substance part. But it's more like slime than water. Don't know if that'll do ya more harm than good though," Jason offered unconfidently, his brow furrowed in thought.
"No.. no.. It wont—" Danny paused slightly, his mind racing to process this new information. "I think It won't work.. from what you've told me, it's probably corrupted ectoplasm."
Jason sighed annoyed, frustration evident, "Well I don't have any other ideas, Danny."
Danny lowered his eyes, a pang of guilt gnawing at his insides more painfully than his actual injuries, "Sorry.."
ason waved a hand dismissively, attempting to shake off the tension that hung in the air. "No—no. It's fine. Just gettin' irritated at the situation, not you."
"M' sorry," Danny mumbled in return, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Just—stop apologizing—it's fine."
There was a pause, a moment with unspoken questions and uncertain futures.
".. Hey. Didn't you have a group of friends that helped you?" Jason's voice broke the silence, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity mixed with a touch of nostalgia. He wasn't particularly close to them, but he could recall seeing Danny around some people who visited the realms when he was dead.
"You know.. black hair, violet-eyed girl?" Danny stared at him with no familiarity in his expression, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to grasp at the fragments of memory. "Dark skin, techno guy?" Still no response came, only the blank stare of confusion. "Orange.. ah. Never mind, you don't remember.." Jason trailed off, giving up as he eyed the teen in front of him, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the lack of recognition.
He didn't see a small flicker of recognition that was quickly put out as he stopped speaking
Being stuck mid-transformation for so long should be painful.. especially considering Danny's injuries. King or not, he still needed to be resting. Jason couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for his friend's well-being, even amidst the chaos of their current situation.
"Are you able to stop transforming?" Jason urged slightly, his voice laced with genuine concern. Hazily, Danny mumbled something barely audible before the lines flickered out of existence, leaving them both in a state of uneasy uncertainty.
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In a realm veiled from the sight of mortal eyes, nestled amidst the folds of existence, there lay a land of unparalleled wonder and enchantment. Where the emerald hues of the skies danced like the graceful wings of celestial beings, a world of boundless beauty unfolded before those who dared to venture into its midst.
Beings of wondrous diversity thrived, their forms transcending mortal comprehension. Some possessed the delicate translucency of ethereal spirits, while others exuded the majestic aura of gods walking among mortals. Eldritch horrors, shrouded in mystery and power, prowled the shadows alongside creatures beyond imagination.
Just as the king had promised.
Yet, despite their differences, all inhabitants of this world found solace and sustenance in the very essence of the air they breathed, a testament to the harmonious balance that prevailed. And reigning over this realm of wonder and unity was a king whose legacy transcended time itself, his promises of freedom and equality echoing through the annals of history.
As the emerald skies continued to swirl with untold secrets and mysteries, the inhabitants of this enchanted realm found solace in the enduring promise of a brighter tomorrow, forever guided by the legacy of their king.
A king long gone, one who had disappeared a year before, his anguished screams reverberating throughout all the realms.
"He's been missing for over a year now! Thirteen months! _Thirteen!_ How have we found nothing?" A hand slammed down on the table, sending papers flying in all directions, the frustration palpable in the air.
"Calm down," came the response, attempting to offer a soothing gesture, but it was met with a swift rebuff. smack.
Violet eyes blazed with frustration as they locked onto crystal-blue ones. "I don't understand how you can be so calm. If you were the one taken, I would have worked day and night, tirelessly, to find you. Thirteen months of uncertainty, of fear, of sleepless nights, and you sit there acting as if it's business as usual!"
The crystal-blue eyes narrowed, a glint of defiance appearing. "I am not calm. Don't mistake my composure for indifference. I feel every bit as helpless and desperate as you do. But losing our heads and pointing fingers will not bring him back any faster."
"Oh really? Because from where I'm standing, it seems like you've been sitting on your ass, doing absolutely nothing while we scramble for answers. We've exhausted every lead, turned over every stone, and still, we're no closer to finding him. And you expect us to believe you're doing everything you can?" A scoff punctuated her words, and the plants in the surrounding room seemed to stir, mirroring her agitation perfectly.
Crystal-Blue eyes allowed for her head to lay in her hand. Amber hair following swift, in a manner akin to a petal falling delicately, "Someone still has to manage the political fallout of the king's disappearance. We can't afford to let panic consume us, or the citizens. My role may not be as visible as yours, but it's just as crucial."
"That someone didn't need to be you! Your leadership would have been invaluable in this crisis! Instead, you've left us floundering, grasping at straws while you hide behind bureaucracy and protocol!"
"I am doing everything in my power to help! But if you think you can do better, then by all means, take the lead! See if you can succeed where I've supposedly failed!"
"Maybe your power isn't enough." She turned away from the elder, allowing her black hair to flow angrily, "Maybe we need someone who's willing to take risks, to push boundaries, to do whatever it takes to bring him home."
"And maybe, that someone isn't you," the words hung heavy in the air as the sound of footsteps faded, punctuated by the resounding slam of the door.
Remaining the only one left in the room, the eldest sighed dismissively, her thoughts swirling in a tumult of frustration and uncertainty. Yet, before she could fully retreat into the recesses of her mind, the creak of the door opening once more shattered the silence.
Instead of revealing the familiar presence of the black-haired, violet-eyed girl from before, a different figure emerged from the shadows of the doorway. A dark-skinned boy adorned in garments of fine linen that draped elegantly over his frame. Intricate patterns of gold and azure danced across the fabric, weaving a tapestry of regality and splendor. A headdress, adorned with the sacred symbols of power, rested upon his brow, its golden ornaments catching the faint glimmer of light that filtered into the room. Behind him, a cloak of deep indigo billowed, its edges adorned with intricate hieroglyphics that whispered tales of ancient glory and forgotten lore.
Though dressed in the attire of a pharaoh, the boy's countenance betrayed a sense of unease and discomfort, his features drawn tight with distaste in his own clothing. Despite his regal appearance, there was a eagerness in his stance, and a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.
"Jazz! We have a lead on Danny!"
The elder—Jazz—raised an eyebrow, intrigued, "Are you sure this isn't another dead end, Tucker?"
Tucker nodded with conviction. "I'm confident. But you might want to hear it for yourself."
"The lead is a person?" She glanced down at the scattered papers before her, remnants of the earlier altercation, and sighed wearily. "Take me to them."
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A towering figure loomed over Jazz and Tucker, casting a dark shadow that seemed to swallow the feeble light of their surroundings. Its presence was suffocating, its gaze empty and hollow, like twin voids that threatened to consume all that stood before it. While the light bounced off Jazz and Tucker's eyes, painting them with soft hues of green, the figure's eyes remained devoid of any semblance of life or emotion, an endless expanse of consuming darkness.
Yet, it was not just the figure's unsettling gaze that sent shivers down Jazz's spine. It was the palpable aura of decay that emanated from its form, a sense of impending dissolution that hung heavy in the air. The figure appeared to be crumbling, fragments of its essence broke off and began floating around it like debris orbiting a dying star. "Chunks" circled the figure in an dance, their movements hauntingly graceful yet filled with an ominous sense of foreboding.
"Is this .. the lead?" Jazz turned to Tucker warily, not from the figure's form but from the illogical nature of the lead itself.
Tucker nodded. "She says she knows where Danny is."
The figure hummed, her voice echoing faintly though unmistakably feminine, "Yes, yes.. the king needed rest, and I provided only the best.. my knight, my child, protected him and gave him a home. A place where he could rest and grow."
"So, you know the location of the king, then?" Jazz sought confirmation.
The figure slowly nodded, "The king rests within my city, he was hurt and harmed .. a great pity. He reached out for help, and it stirred me awake, and as a thanks I helped him see daybreak. But due to injuries, he is in great pain. No ectoplasm to heal, it has caused him great bane.."
"What's the name of your city?" Tucker urged, then realizing his oversight in not addressing the figure properly, quickly added, "Ms..?"
"You may call me Lady Gotham, young advisor. To not know my city even then, would be unwise." The figure—Lady Gotham—offered a slight smile, though it held an unnerving quality, it still carried a sense of humor.
It didn't take long for Jazz to connect the dots, "Lady Gotham .. are you saying you're the spirit of the most crime-ridden city on planet Earth?"
"My knights protect it as best they can, my children have made it better since it all began." Lady Gotham paused, her expression turning serious. "But my presence here comes at a cost, I am in dire need of advice. When the king is healed, I beg for a favor. It is something small, but a lifesaver nonetheless."
Tucker broke the ensuing silence, "From what you've told us, you saved the king and are currently healing him. We accept, what is it that you need?"
"A plague of evil consumes my city. To have it exterminated would serve us plenty. But the balance of good and evil stands strong; to eradicate them all would be wrong. So I propose a task beyond my knights' reach, to eliminate the source of it all so my city may start anew."
"Who, or what, is the source of this evil in your city, Lady Gotham?" Jazz inquired.
Lady Gotham paused once more, her gaze distant as she spoke, "He is often described as the clown prince of crime, a title that becomes prominent in the absence of daylight."
" .. You wish to kill the Joker?"