Chapter Text
Red Hood had seen a lot of weird shit in his time as a vigilante/anti-hero. Hell, he had died and come back; he still didn't know the reason for his resurrection.
This had to be the weirdest thing he's ever been through.
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”
“Wow, you’re a bit dense, huh,” the glowing, floating kid told him.
Wow, rude.
“Okay, let’s take this from the top. My name is Danny; I’m from an alternate dimension. My parents and sister helped me escape after the US government ghost-hunting branch discovered my existence. They threw me through a portal that led to the land of the dead that they had built in their basement. What’s so hard to understand about that?”
Okay, yep, Jason hadn’t misheard. (Red Hood had left somewhere in that explanation.)
It was still as bonkers sounding as the first time. He wasn’t paid enough for this shit.
Huh, Jason wondered if he could guilt money out of his dad—he meant Bruce.
“Okay,” Jason said while putting away his gun, “Okay, let’s, let’s back up a bit. First things first, what was that huge green portal you came through, and is it dangerous?”
“No, that’s just a portal to the Infinite Realms, aka the Ghost Zone. It’s the Land of the Dead I was talking about. Don’t worry, it closed, so no, it’s not dangerous.”
Okay, that was good. The last thing they needed in Gotham was a portal to fucking Hell.
“Great, second question; why are you here?”
Danny sighed and crossed his arms, “The government was hunting me down, so—”
“No, I go that part. Why are you here specifically, in this dimension in Gotham?”
“Oh,” Danny uncrossed his arm and brightened. Literally. Before him stood a kid with black hair and blue eye. He couldn’t be older than 16 years, “At the moment, I’m trying to hunt down my alt, see what their life is like.”
“Alt,” Jason asked, confused.
“Alternate self. It’s a cosmic effect, sometimes, two alts can have near identical backgrounds, and other times the only thing that links them is a single, life-altering event that defines every version of that person throughout every dimension.”
Jason stared at the kid as if he had grown extra heads and insulted Jason’s bloodline.
“Speaking of,” the kid continued, “I don’t suppose you know anyone who died around age 14 and came back significantly changed, maybe with some white hair and glowing, green eyes?”
Jason felt a chill go down his spine.
No, it couldn’t be.
“Maybe with a severe hatred of clowns and just a tiny bit of anger issues. Has a weird hero complex?”
Jason was speechless. Now that he looked at the kid (Danny), he looked like Jason at that age, if a bit leaner.
“FUCK!”
Jason had called in backup. There was no way in Hell—“you mean, no way in the Infinite Realms,” the kid had interjected between Jason’s rants.
Great, the kid loved puns.
That was beside the point; there was no way in Hell Jason was dealing with this alone.
He took Danny to one of Jason’s safehouses without telling the kid who he (suspected) Jason was to him.
The fact that Danny had followed a mysterious guy wearing a red helmet and a bunch of guns and knives talked about the kid’s self-preservation skills; as in, he lacked any.
“No, listen, guys,” Jason whisper-shouted into his comms, “I think he’s an alternate version of me, but I need help confirming it. And I need to find out without telling B cuz this kid is prime Wayne adoptee bait.”
Jason looked out the door from his bedroom to make sure the kid was still eating and not eavesdropping.
“Jason, listen,” he interrupted his older brother, “No names on the field!”
“Okay, Hood, whatever,” Dick said impatiently, “maybe it’s just some random meta trying to fuck with the heroes of Gotham. It’s not like we haven’t had any pranksters before.”
“No, Dickface, listen. I saw the kid walk out of that portal and,” Jason gulped, “I don’t know, there’s something deep inside me that recognizes him. And I know that sounds crazy, but I can’t explain it. I know he’s not lying.”
Silence from the other side.
“Please, I just need help figuring this out without having Bruce breathing down my neck.”
Jason heard a resigned sigh, “we’ll be there in 15 minutes,” Tim said.
“Jason, after we run some tests, whether or not this kid is lying, we have to tell Bruce,” Dick warned him.
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Jason said, relieved, “I don’t care, just come help me right now, please.”
The comms went dead, and Jason took a deep breath to calm himself. It didn’t work.
Jason walked out of the room to find Danny twirling one of Jason’s knives while staring at his guns. He didn’t even flinch when Jason yelled.
“Jesus, kid, are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Danny looked up, confused, “I mean, I already did two years ago, so too late for that. But what exactly do you mean?”
Jason stalked up to Danny and took the knife out of the kid’s hand.
“This isn’t a toy; you can get seriously hurt messing with it. You’re twirling it around like a baton. It’s not!”
Danny smirked. Jason was sure he’d seen that same smile reflected in Bruce’s eyes from Jason’s own face.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m already half-dead, then! Can’t kill a ghost, now, can you?”
Fuck, this was karma. This was karma for all the death jokes he had pulled on his family before. Now Jason knew how traumatizing and disturbing those jokes could be.
(It didn’t mean he still wouldn’t use them.)
“Can we go back to you being a ghost? Wouldn’t a zombie be more appropriate if you died and came back?”
Danny snorted, “Ancients, Hades, no! Why would I want to be a mindless, rotting corpse?”
“You said you died and came back to life,” Jason yelled, exasperated.
“No, I said I died and came back significantly changed. How does that equate to a zombie? Anyway, I’m what you call a halfa; half human, half ghost.”
Jason gestured for Danny to continue when the kid looked at him.
“When a portal to the Ghost Zone was ripped through me, I didn’t die all the way through. The ectoplasm that suddenly radiated into me changed my DNA. Death plus ectoplasm plus mysterious portal equals Schrodinger’s boy.” Danny said while pointing to himself.
Jason had no idea what to say to that. After a moment of silence, Danny continued, “Now I can die on command and have ghost powers.”
The kid shrugged his shoulder almost as if he was saying, ‘what can you do?’
Jason wanted to cry.
Did every version of him experience death one way or another? Was that the cosmic tie Danny had been talking about?
“What’s ectoplasm?” Jason asked in lieu of one of the awkward questions he wanted to ask.
“Green stuff all ghosts are made of,” Danny answered while raising his hand. In his palm, a Lazarus green goo formed. Jason jumped up and away from it, the shining color giving him flashbacks of anger, bloodshed, and vengeance.
The green goo quickly disappeared.
“Sorry,” Danny said while scratching the back of his neck, “I didn’t know it would make you…uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine,” Jason snapped back before taking a deep breath, “you didn’t know.”
Danny nodded and dropped it before starting again, “You have a lot of guns. Jericho 941s with customizations?”
Jason blinked, surprised. The kid knew guns; Jason put another mental tally on Danny being an alternate version of Jason.
“Kid, you are far too comfortable with a guy with weapons and a weird costume than you should be,” Jason said instead of answering Danny.
Danny shrugged, “You’re my alternate, and I can probably fold you like a piece of paper if I wanted, Jason.”
Jason blinked at the casual name-drop before taking out a knife and being on high alert, “You know my name, and you knew I was the one you were looking for. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Oh, I didn’t truly know until I heard you talk to Tim and…Dick? Is that his actual name, or are you mad at him?”
“You have super hearing? And yeah, that’s his name.”
“My condolences to him. As to how I knew, I’m a ghost; we know things,” he said in a mysterious voice but with a cheeky smile, “Besides, like you, I just knew. It must be the ectoplasm.”
“I don’t have ectoplasm.”
“Sure, and I don’t do things halfassed.”
Jason groaned. How did any version of him end up with Dick’s sense of humor?
Before Jason could wonder even more, there was a knock on his door.
****
When Tim had heard another potential Jason Todd was running around, he had been ready for a bloodthirsty man hellbent on killing and/or maiming Tim or half of Gotham’s rogues.
Instead, Tim had found a wisecracking beanpole with Dick’s habits of telling puns and Jason’s morbid sense of humor.
Tim would’ve preferred a homicidal maniac.
Tim and Dick ran some tests and asked questions while Jason stood on the side without his helmet but with a domino mask. The white streak in his hair seemed to be shining and wavering in the wind. Weird.
“Test results show he’s from another dimension, uh,” Tim hesitated.
“He’s me, isn’t he,” Jason groaned, “How is there a version of me with Golden boy’s fucking humor?”
“Hey,” both Dick and Danny yelled simultaneously.
“What’s wrong with quips,” Dick asked, affronted.
“Yeah, when you beat a villain, don’t you go off on them, say a pun or three?”
“Exactly,” Dick agreed while snapping his fingers, “Especially the ice puns.”
“Oh, ice puns are the best. I have ice powers and love using them.”
“Really, well, that case, ice to meet you, Danny.”
“Oh, be chill, my beating heart. It’s ice to meet you, too. It almost feels like I’m meeting a long frost friend.”
Tim turned to Jason, “Make them stop, please.”
Both Jason and Tim watched in horror as Dick and Danny started a quote/ unquote ‘pun-off.’
“Jason,” Tim started.
“Yeah?”
“I give you permission to kill me. Please, put me out of my misery.”
“Can’t. I’m about to off myself.”
Dick and Danny turned at them, “Oh, all right, Little Wing, Baby Bird, don’t be so dramatic. We’ll stop.”
“I make no such promises,” Danny said while looking them straight in the eyes, “you act as if we’re pun-ishing you.”
“That’s it, Timmy. There is no way he’s an alternate version of me. He’s Dickie bird’s alt.”
“No, he’s yours. Deal with it.”
Fuck, this is ridiculous.
“Okay, since we figured out the kid wasn’t lying, should we call B now? Not that I want to deal with the Old Man,” Jason whispered the last part.
“B? Is that your dad? Cool,” Jason glared, “my dad’s name is Jack. He’s 6’9” and built like a tank. Is your dad that tall?”
Everyone else choked or looked at Danny’s 5’3” beanpole body and couldn’t imagine his dad being that tall.
“Are you adopted? Cuz there is no way you got his genes if he’s that tall,” Jason said.
Danny crossed his arms and pouted, “I just haven’t hit my growth spurt yet. My dad says the Fentons are late bloomers. He didn’t reach his height until he was twenty-one. I’m just fifteen. I have a few years. Besides, if my sister is anything to go by, I’ll hit my spurt, too.”
“You have a sister,” Jason asked, “A biological one?”
Danny perked, “Yeah, I mentioned her earlier, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. You said your parents helped you escape from the government.”
Danny’s smile fell, “Yeah, let’s say where I’m from; there are only two heroes. I’m one; the other is my age, but she does what she can. Since I’m considered an ectoplasmic being, I don’t have rights and can be experimented on whenever and without prejudice.”
“My parents are ectobiologist. They hated ghosts, and I was afraid to tell them about my double life, but,” Danny shrugged, “I did, and they took it well.”
“I thought after they found out, everything would be better. I was wrong,” Danny whispered.
Suddenly, the kid brightened up, “But I guess going through the Infinite Realms and exploring while I wait for them to pick me up is cool, too!”
Jason looked at his brothers; he was sure they all had the same looks of worry.
It was time to bring in Bruce.