Going Ghost! (Young Justice)

[Third Person's PoV] 

Danny sat down at the breakfast table, his face still flushed with embarrassment as his family doted on him following his earlier outburst. He hunched forward slightly, trying to hide the redness in his cheeks. He could feel their gazes on him—gentle, affectionate, a little teasing. It made him squirm.

Maddie, ever the doting mother, sat down across from him and slid a warm plate of pancakes in front of him with a maternal flourish. Folding her hands together and resting her chin on them, she looked at him with soft eyes and said sweetly, "Go on, Danny. Eat up. Enjoy."

"…Thanks," he muttered, grabbing the syrup bottle and pouring a generous amount over the pancakes. His motions were slow, almost mechanical. He picked up a fork, cut a bite, and brought it to his mouth.

As he chewed, his jaw worked slowly. The taste was rich, fluffy, familiar in a way that made his chest ache. 'Mom's cooking… I didn't think I'd ever get to experience it again.'

He looked up at Maddie, and for a second, he had to look away. There was a tightness in his throat, a pressure behind his eyes. His vision blurred slightly as he blinked back the tears threatening to spill over.

"It's good… Thanks, Mom," he whispered, his voice cracking just barely at the edges.

Maddie reached over and ruffled his hair, her smile radiant and full of love. "Aww, thank you, sweetie. I'm so glad you're enjoying it."

Danny ducked his head lower, burying his face behind another bite of food. He nodded wordlessly, chewing faster to distract himself from the growing warmth in his chest and the sting in his eyes. Every bite grounded him more—each flavor, each texture, every small detail... He didn't know how long this moment would last. Whether it would disappear the next day… or the next second.

So he cherished it.

Stuffing his mouth with another bite, he tried to hide how his tears were beginning to break free, slipping silently down his cheeks between forkfuls. He didn't want them to see. Didn't want them to worry.

But this—this feeling—was overwhelming. He was home. And for the first time in what felt like forever… it felt real.

---

Later that morning…

Steam filled the bathroom like a misty cloud, wrapping Danny in its warm embrace. He stood in the shower, both hands braced against the tiled wall, head bowed low. Water rained down over him, cascading from his hair and running in steady streams down his face and bare shoulders. His soaked hair hung like a curtain over his eyes, hiding the unfocused, distant look in them.

His mind spun.

'What the hell is happening? Did Barry screw with the timeline again? Some kind of multiverse mishap? Or is this just more DC-level cosmic nonsense?'

The thought wasn't entirely joking. To his knowledge, things like this never just happened.

But even in all his confusion… he was grateful. So, so grateful.

Danny slowly opened his palms, watching the water collect and trickle through his fingers.

'This isn't a dream. I'd know. The warmth of their hugs… the sound of their voices… the food… it's all too real. No illusion is this perfect.'

The thought gave him comfort—and also fear.

'But if this is real… Why I do I remember? Why am I not different, like the rest of them? Shouldn't I have changed too? Forgotten, at least?'

The logic didn't add up. Not unless this wasn't just a localized shift… but something that bent the fabric of reality itself.

And yet, here he was. Remembering everything. Feeling like a ghost in a world that shouldn't exist.

No matter how hard he tried to piece it together, no matter how many theories he ran through in his head, he always came up empty. Every answer just brought more questions.

---

Later, wrapped in a towel, Danny walked quietly back into his bedroom. His hair was still damp, dripping softly onto the carpet. He closed the door behind him with a quiet click, then leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the wooden surface, letting out a slow, shaky breath.

His voice was low—barely above a whisper.

"Just what the hell is happening?" 

"Maybe I can answer that for you," a voice chimed in softly.

Danny jumped, nearly slipping in surprise. He spun around, clutching his towel tightly as if it were his last line of defense. His heart pounded in his chest, and his eyes went wide as he caught sight of a beautiful woman sitting comfortably on his bed. One leg was crossed elegantly over the other, and she leaned back on her arms with a small, knowing smile.

"Death…" Danny whispered in disbelief, his voice cracking. He instinctively brought a hand up to his chest, the towel tightening around his waist. "W-What are you doing here?"

She gave him a playful wink. "Hmm, I figured I'd play your deus ex machina for the day—the one who conveniently shows up with all the answers right when you need them most." Her teasing smile widened as she raised a hand and flashed a peace sign. "Tadah~!"

Danny groaned softly and tried to maintain what little dignity he had left. "I mean, I'm not saying I don't appreciate the help, but you couldn't have waited until I was dressed? This is… a rather compromising position for me."

"Oh, right! My bad~" she said with a snap of her fingers, her tone playful and unbothered.

In an instant, Danny felt a shift. He looked down and realized that he was now fully dressed in his usual attire—a red and white shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

"Thanks…" he muttered, still flustered.

"First of all, you're welcome. Second, you really need to consider diversifying your wardrobe. And third—just call me Didi." She grinned, her golden eyes glinting with amusement. "After all, we're partners now, aren't we?"

Danny blinked. "Uh… sure, I guess," he said with a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. "So… about my questions—"

"Right!" Didi interrupted, clapping her hands once. "Now, I can't give you all the answers—rules and cosmic laws and whatnot—but I can clear a few things up. For starters, the fact that this timeline exists, and your parents are still alive… it's all thanks to a wish."

Danny's expression shifted, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "A wish?" he repeated, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. "A wish… A wish…" He paused, then narrowed his eyes. "…Desiree?"

"Bingo!" Didi exclaimed, throwing both hands up as if he'd just won a game show. "Someone let the genie out of the bottle. And no, I don't mean that metaphorically."

Danny's eyes widened. "What kind of wish would cause that? What does that have to do with my parents being alive?" He quickly moved to his desk, sitting down in front of his computer and swiveling to face her. 

Didi's smile dimmed, turning solemn as her tone softened. "The wish… involved the disappearance of Batman."

Danny's body went rigid. He straightened in his seat, eyes wide in horror. "W-What? What do you mean, the disappearance of Batman?"

Not waiting for a reply, he turned back to the screen and began typing furiously. He searched the word "Batman," hoping to find some clue, some article, anything—but the results were baffling. The closest hit he got was "Man-Bat."

"No, no, no…" Danny muttered under his breath, scrolling faster, his eyes scanning the screen with increasing desperation. "Where is he…?" Every result, every news piece—it was all Man-Bat. No caped crusader. No Dark Knight. No Batman.

He opened a new tab and typed in "Bruce Wayne."

"What?! Batman is Bruce Wayne?!" Didi exclaimed behind him in faux shock, placing her hands over her mouth.

Danny turned slowly, eyes wide. "I—no—I mean, I didn't—" he stammered, trying to explain himself.

Didi burst out laughing. "Pffft, relax, I'm messing with you!" She leaned over his shoulder, smirking. "Danny, I'm Death. I literally ferry the souls of every timeline, dimension, and reality. You think I don't know who wears the cowl?"

Danny flushed red, eyes darting away. "Well, I mean… he is Batman. I wouldn't put it past him to find a way to fool even you."

She giggled again. "You sure do hold him in high regard, huh?"

Danny didn't respond. He kept scrolling, hoping to make sense of what she'd told him. Then something caught his eye—a news headline at the top of the page:

"Tragedy in Gotham: The Death of the Waynes."

His hand trembled slightly as he clicked the article. He scrolled past the pictures, past the headlines and quotes, until a certain paragraph made him freeze. His breath caught in his throat.

His hands slowly moved away from the mouse. He stared at the screen, eyes wide and glassy.

"Dead… all three of them… dead." His voice was hollow. "That night… Joe Chill didn't just kill Martha and Thomas Wayne… he killed eight-year-old Bruce Wayne too…"

The silence in the room was deafening.

And for the first time, Danny truly realized—this world was not the one he knew.

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