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trashyswitch · 1 year

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An Unexpected Roommate

Chapter 23: Guilt, Pain, and Communication

Jamie and Chase have a lengthy argument about what they feel is best for Robbie. Some angry words are said, some pain is felt, and a decision is reached. With Robbie's location now known, the boys decide to try and bring Robbie home.

It has been forever since I uploaded! I did not know that I would go 2 months without uploading this chapter...so, I hope it's worth it. Also, there is a lot of angst, and hurt/comfort in this one. So...read at your own risk. And despite the tears, I hope you enjoy.

Jamie was laying in his bed, mentally preparing himself for Chase’s footsteps to show up at his doorway. He knew he was going to do it. He knew Chase was going to be angry with him because of multiple reasons. But the one thing he knew he would be mad about…was the fact that he failed to tell Chase he had found Robbie. Cause that’s what led to the domino effect of ‘mistakes’ he made yesterday morning. Finding Robbie’s dog, buying Robbie food, and worst of all, his decision to not take the boy home.

Jamie couldn’t even sleep a wink that night because of all the stress. That, and the physical pain coming from his lower throat. The use of his larynx was affecting his throat tremendously. It hurt really bad, and he knew he needed to give it a break. But giving it a break didn’t stop the soreness from setting in. It still set in, and at full force. He wanted to groan in pain. He wanted to rub it till it got better. He was even willing to put ice on his throat to see if it would help. But groaning would’ve made it worse. Rubbing it wouldn’t help anything, and putting ice on it wouldn’t do anything besides make his throat cold.

Jamie closed his eyes in an attempt to try and sleep. But trying to sleep with one ear open is really difficult. And trying to sleep while also under immense stress is even harder. So…It was practically laughable that Jamie was attempting to sleep at this point. But…The man was tired and growing restless. Part of him wanted Chase to arrive as soon as possible so he could get the conversation over with so he can be stress-free. But…the other part of him wanted Chase to not arrive at all. It was a mix of complicated emotions caused by his guilt mixed with his fight or flight response.

Guilt was a complicated thing for anyone. Guilt is usually a feeling people experience when they do something wrong or lie to someone. That’s what kids were taught because it helped them stop lying. But…Guilt happens regardless of whether his choice was out of good intention. People assume others lie because they don’t want to get caught. But some people lie because they don’t want to hurt the other person’s feelings. As much as telling the truth is encouraged, telling the truth can create its own level of guilt. People feel guilt from telling the truth all the time because of how the person will react to the truth of the situation. Because let’s face it: Only your parents will thank you for telling the truth. Everyone else 一even your parents一 will get equally as angry at your mistake whether you told them the truth the first time or were found to have lied to them.

That’s just how real life works.

Jamie opened his eyes as he heard footsteps in the hall outside his room. He let out a breath as he readied himself for the confrontation to start. He got up off his bed and walked up to his bedroom door. And as the footsteps got closer, the man created a rule for himself:

No speaking. Only signs.

Jamie opened the door the moment he heard the first two knocks.

Jamie widened his eyes as a hand with a piece of paper slapped against his own face. A cloud of white with little bits of black filled his vision as he heard the words “Read this.” come from Chase’s mouth.

Jamie grunted and removed the letter from his face. Any other time, this act would’ve made him laugh! It was slapstick humor, after all. But…this was not a laughing matter. So he couldn’t laugh, even if he wanted to. Jamie looked at the letter and focused his eyes on the words. Thanks to spending his whole life reading, the man was able to finish a page in under 5 minutes. The man flipped over the letter, and read the last little paragraph:

[I know this letter won’t help much. I know it’s very hard to be separated right now. I miss you all so much. I’m sorry for everything I said and did before I left. But I am not completely alone. I have Bacon with me to hold and cry into when I feel the most lonely. And when I didn’t have Bacon, I had Jamie. Mustache man had found me and gave me my dog back when I was missing it most. He also bought me food and a blanket to keep me warm and full. He understood how I felt even when I couldn’t understand my own feelings. I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to go home yet. But, we can all be thankful to Jamie for the help.

Love,

Robbie]

Jamie lowered the letter and looked at Chase.

“You found him…” Chase said.

Jamie silently gulped.

“And you DIDN’T TELL ME?!” Chase yelled suddenly.

Jamie nodded his head and put the letter down. ‘I only intended to give him his dog.’

“And then you proceeded to BUY HIM FOOD, AND BUY HIM A-A GODDAMN BLANKET?!” Chase yelled.

Jamie frowned slightly. ‘He wasn’t ready to go home.’

Chase blinked, before rubbing his nose. “Oh my god-” Chase stood up. “If a kid said they are NOT READY…to go to SCHOOL, would you let them stay home?!” Chase asked.

Jamie frowned more. ‘You wouldn’t?’

“NO!” Chase dropped his own arms beside himself. “YOU NEED TO TEACH THE KID EARLY ABOUT PUSHING THROUGH! AND DOING IT, EVEN WHEN THEY DON’T WANT TO!” Chase yelled.

Jamie crossed his arms, but let the man listen.

“And- And another question:” Chase walked closer to him and hit Jamie’s chest with the back of his own hand. “Why does the person in this house…with NO PRIOR PARENTING EXPERIENCE…get to decide where Robbie should be sleeping tonight?!” Chase asked.

‘You fail to understand.’ Jamie signed.

“Fail to understand what?! Tell me, oh WiSe PaReNt…What could I PoSsIbLy not be understanding?!” Chase asked.

Jamie silently huffed. ‘What you want and what I want are different.’ He signed.

Chase widened his eyes. “What I want is for him to be safe at home.” Chase told him. “But you…YOU…” Chase pointed to Jamie with a fist below his index finger. “You seriously want Robbie to be sleeping outside tonight?!” Chase asked.

Jamie shook his head. ‘No no no! That’s what Robbie signed to me! Robbie signed the words ‘What you want and what I want are different’. You want him to go home but Robbie wants something different.’ Jamie signed to him.

Chase narrowed his eyes, slightly hurt to hear that Robbie was the person who said that. “What does he want?” Chase asked. ‘To just…I think he wants to have time to think about how to best approach you.’ Jamie told him.

Chase scoffed. “So you’re saying I’m unapproachable?” Chase asked.

‘I prefer the word ‘unpredictable’.’ Jamie told him.

Chase shook his head. “Anybody would be unpredictable if your child was living out on the goddamn street.” Chase said.

Jamie closed his eyes for a moment. ‘The boy knows about rationing.’ Jamie told him.

Chase softened his expression upon seeing those letters get spelled by Jamie’s fingers. “He…he does?” Chase asked.

Jamie nodded his head. ‘And the boy told me roughly what day he had died on.’ Jamie signed. ‘I did some math, and…He died on March 22nd, 2018.’

Chase looked down, visibly saddened by this new information. “...Oh…” Was all Chase could get out.

Jamie walked up and sighed. ‘He was born in 2010…’ Jamie signed.

Chase looked up at Jamie as tears fell down his own face. Chase walked up and wrapped his arms around Jamie, hugging him tightly.

With his mouth close to the man’s ear, Jamie decided to say one more thing. But this time…it was through a soft whisper of his own voice. “Robbie will be turning 13 on June 21st.”

Chase widened his eyes and stared off into the room behind Jamie. “He…He will?”

Jamie nodded his head as tears filled his eyes. “He will be a teenager in 2 months.” Jamie whispered into his ear.

Chase looked down and started to breathe slowly, but rather heavily. He slowly started to hug himself as his breaths grew deeper and a bit faster. Finally, the man collapsed onto his knees and let out long, heartbroken sighs. He breathed in and let out more cries of pain, mixed with excessive exhaustion from having to worry constantly. When Jamie had wrapped his arms around the pain-stricken man, Chase completely fell into his arms. He shoved his face into Jamie’s shoulder and just let himself bawl. He couldn’t believe that the boy was going to be a teenager in 2 months. There was NO WAY! And the kid had been living with them for 4 months by now! Which only meant one thing:

Robbie had been a homeless orphan for more than 4 years. If that doesn’t make a grown man sad, then I don’t know what will.

Jamie was crying as well, but much more quietly…and his throat was hurting quite a bit. But it wasn’t because he was using his voice this time…it was actually due to his strong need to cry. Sometimes when he feels like he has to cry and he’s unintentionally holding it in, he gets this achy pain in his throat and chest. And it never really subsides until he finally lets it out. And as much as he wanted to let it out…he didn’t feel like it was the time or place for it. So…He just let himself cry silently.

Chase eventually let go of Jamie and looked at him. He was grunting and wiping his eyes, struggling to pull himself together. But Jamie shook his head and cupped Chase’s cheeks.

“If you still need to cry…” Jamie whispered before moving Chase’s bangs out of the way. “Then cry.” Jamie finished.

Chase looked at Jamie, his eyes welling up with more tears. “This is the most you’ve ever talked to me.” Chase said.

Jamie bit his lip and let out a breath. “I know…” He said out loud in his croaky, hoarse voice.

Chase widened his eyes and covered his mouth. “You’re…going to a speech pathologist?” Chase asked.

Jamie winced as he felt his throat. ‘Not yet.’ He signed, coughing a bit.

Chase looked at Jamie with newfound worry on his face. “Maybe we should be getting you a referral to a speech pathologist…” Chase told him. “Or at the very least, get Henrik to work with you on your voice.” Chase said. “Because as much as I love that you’re talking…” Chase trailed off slowly as he bit his lip, too afraid to say it.

Jamie shrugged his shoulders. ‘I know. My voice sounds weird.’ Jamie admitted.

Chase gave him a nervous look. “Well…That, and…” Chase cleared his throat. “It looks like you’re in a lot of pain despite only saying a couple words.” Chase told him. “Do you know how much of your voice was removed?” Chase asked.

Jamie sighed and offered Chase a hand. When Chase took it, Jamie walked Chase further into his bedroom. He opened up a closet door in his room, and looked at Chase. He sighed and picked it up, staring at it for only a minute.

“...What is it?” Chase asked, not fully able to see the thing Jamie was holding in his hands.

Jamie turned around and walked up, showing him the jar of water with something in it. Jamie turned the jar a bit to reveal a sticky note with a specific date written on it in cursive.

Chase tilted his head as he read the cursive. “August 25, 1916.” He read. He tilted his head slightly. “What…” Chase looked at Jamie, who was poking his own throat, touching the scar on his throat. Things began to click in Chase’s head as he widened his eyes and pointed at Jamie. “It’s…the day you lost your voice?” Chase asked.

Jamie nodded and put the jar down on his nearby dresser. Chase turned the jar back around and looked at the tiny thing that was floating in it. It looked…really gross, to be honest. It made Chase want to hurl on the spot. But…He could slightly understand what the thing was.

Chase turned to Jamie and held out his hand. “Can…Can I touch it?” Chase asked, pointing to the scar.

Jamie softened his expression and nodded his head, lifting his chin up slightly so Chase had better access. Chase took some time to feel the scar and the larynx. Or, what was left of it. Chase drew a finger over the scar, and felt slightly up to the cage-like cover of the larynx. It was strange, to say the least.

Chase then brought his other hand to his own throat, and felt the same area. He wanted to feel any differences between his normal larynx, and Jamie’s semi-removed larynx. “I…don’t feel much of a difference.” Chase admitted. “Well…despite the hole that’s right about here.” Chase added, gently poking the dip of the thyroid cartilage.

Jamie nodded and pointed to the jar. ‘The missing piece of the cartilage is in there.’ Jamie signed.

Chase nodded and looked closer at the piece of larynx. “How long have you had this jar?” Chase asked.

Jamie froze for a moment. He thought for a moment, and let in a shaky breath. He let out his shaky breath and covered his mouth, before looking at Chase. He closed his eyes and whispered his words to Chase. “Too long.”

Chase widened his eyes and gently brought Jamie into another comfortable hug. He rubbed Jamie’s back while holding the man close, letting Jamie cry if he needed to. Jamie let the tears fall down his own cheeks, as he hid his face within Chase’s upper chest. It felt good to be held and consoled…just feeling loved no matter how much you fucked up.

“Have you ever considered getting Henrik to look at your larynx, and determine what parts you specifically lost?” Chase asked.

Jamie opened his eyes and looked at Chase. ‘No.’ He signed. ‘I’m too scared to even touch the jar half the time…why I still kept it despite how disgusting it is, I still have no idea.’ Jamie admitted with a dry laugh.

Chase smiled and looked at the jar. “Maybe get Henrik to do a biopsy on it…then when he’s done, we can burn it, or throw it away, or something.” Chase offered.

Jamie wheezed and doubled over, laughing. ‘Knowing Henrik, he may want to keep it for medical curiosity.’ Jamie admitted.

Chase widened his eyes upon seeing Jamie sign that. “Wait wait…” Chase grabbed out his phone and typed [local medical museums] into the search bar. Looking at the search results, he couldn’t find anything that would suit Jamie’s ‘medical artifact’.

Jamie shrugged his shoulders and tapped Chase’s hand. ‘We can ask Henrik after he looks at it.’ Jamie told him.

Chase nodded and closed his phone. “For now, we should focus on where Robbie is.” Chase told him.

Jamie nodded. ‘I know where he is.’ Jamie signed to him. ‘He’s in the park we went to back in March.’ Jamie told him.

Chase widened his eyes. “He chose to live in the park?!” Chase asked with pure shock on his face.

Jamie nodded his head. ‘He’s been sleeping there for the last few days.’ Jamie admitted. ‘And he’s been begging for money on the street during the day.’ Jamie added.

Seeing those words signed by Jamie, almost made the man cry all over again. He hated the idea that Robbie was willingly laying in the street, begging for money. But…it also didn’t make sense. If Robbie has been where Jamie said he’s been, then now was it that Robbie was begging on the same main street that Chase and Shawn had been driving up and down on?! How did he miss the boy that easily!? He couldn’t understand it.

“Okay. I’m grabbing Shawn…and all three of us are going to pick up Robbie.” Chase told him.

Jamie let out a small sigh, before smiling a bit. ‘Okay.’ Jamie replied.

“And if the boy refuses to go home…” Chase started. “Then…I’m gonna do all I can to convince him to change his mind.” Chase added.

Jamie let out an exhale through his nose with a smile. Chase always was determined like that…Especially when it came to his family and friends. Jamie walked up with Chase to get Shawn. When Chase told him the news, Shawn practically jumped out of bed, threw on some pants and a shirt, and left his bedroom. The fact that Shawn would actually leap out of bed and skip a painting day to pick up Robbie, said a lot about him: That though Shawn struggled with social anxiety, the man always had his priorities straight…Chase and Robbie (especially Robbie) came before anything else. And it was admirable.

Though both Shawn and Jamie knew it was gonna be difficult to convince Robbie to come home, Jamie sensed that Chase knew what he was doing. He knew Robbie the best out of all of the boys in that household. Though, this fact could both help and hinder Chase in this circumstance. But they’ll just have to see.

Shawn hopped into the driver's seat, while Chase hopped into the passenger side of the car. And while Jamie sat in the back, Shawn adjusted the front view mirror down slightly so he could see and react to Jamie’s signs. Signing the word ‘ready’ from the driver's seat, Jamie looked at the front view mirror with a soft smile as he signed the word ‘thanks’ to Shawn. Shawn put the car into reverse, and turned himself around to look behind the seat.

Jamie gave a small smile to Shawn. ‘Do you know how to get to the park?’ Jamie signed.

Shawn nodded his head. “Yup. It’s that park near the main street.” Shawn replied. “But I will need help remembering which street to turn onto.” Shawn added.

Jamie nodded back. ‘Okay.’ He replied as he watched Shawn put the car into Drive, and start to drive down the road. Jamie had always appreciated the other boys’ contributions to make sure that the man felt included in their conversations. And all the boys had shown Jamie how they could contribute to making Jamie, as well as their own, lives a little bit more manageable.

But no one showed their contributions more often than Chase. Way back in the day, Jamie and Chase had actually taken their time to determine how to talk to each other while living together. Little things like having dimmable lights in the kitchen, asking for Jamie’s opinion as often as possible, and maintaining eye contact with Jamie while he signed, were crucial to help Jamie feel included.

Specifically for the car, they found that fixing the front view mirror so they could read his signs, helped dramatically with the communication gap. In fact, it worked so well that Jamie even admitted he felt better sitting in the back instead of the passenger side. When asked why, Jamie would usually say something along the lines of ‘Turning your head to the left when you’re talking to me, is only going to limit your field of vision as a driver. And lord knows that I don’t want you risking crashing the car just so you can talk to me’.

Overtime, Chase would pass on this extra information to the others as more and more friends met Jamie and moved into the house. Eventually, Chase would also pass these helpful tips and knowledge down to Shawn –who had already met Jamie a couple years prior– and who was also planning to move into the house. And even to this day, Shawn made sure to practice these little tricks often. Just like Chase, Shawn didn’t want Jamie feeling left out because of his ‘disability’. Neither did any of the others in the house.

Jamie kept an eye on the road as they drove down the main street. Jamie signed the name of the street they were looking for, into the mirror for Shawn to see.

“Okay. That’s just a couple more streets down, isn’t it?” Shawn asked.

Chase looked at Shawn. “Parker street? Yeah, it’s 2 more streets down.” Chase replied.

Jamie nodded his head as he lifted up his hand to count down the streets. When Shawn passed the next street, Jamie put his fingers down from 2, to 1. And when he moved closer to the next street, Jamie put his index finger down and pointed at the street to turn right.

When the coast was clear, Shawn turned right onto the road, and prepared himself to parallel park on the street in front of the park. And there, behind a tree, was a figure covered in a big blue blanket while a familiar backpack hung on a branch above him…

#an unexpected roommate #chapter 23 #angst with a hopeful ending #angst and hurt/comfort #developing friendships #orphan child #seek the truth #i'm so sorry

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luxaofhesperides · 1 year

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those who serve.

Running away from Amity Park—from his entire dimension—Danny takes refuge in the streets of Gotham. It's hard, suddenly being a homeless teenager in such a crime-ridden city, but it's better than dying a second time.

Enter Alfred Pennyworth, a kind old man who works as a butler who, for some reason, has decided to befriend Danny.

His future is still up in the air, but he's hopeful that things will work out. After all, Alfred isn't getting any younger and someone needs to help him with his butler duties. Danny's just the right person for the job.

Or: Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need.

read chapter one on ao3 or below the cut.

Technically, Danny doesn’t exist.

He has no papers, no records, no family in this dimension. It’s a blank slate, a fresh start where he can be anything he wants. That doesn’t change what he is, however, and Danny is just another lonely child living on the streets.

In Gotham, he’s not a hero or a threat; he’s just another nameless face passing by, another teenager with no support system and no future. Just a figure clinging to the alley walls, head bowed and hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. It’s not great, far from it, but it’s better than the alternative where he—

—parading around in the corpse of our son! How dare you! Wearing his face won’t save you from what we’ll do to you! Leave Danny’s body so we can bury him, leave him! I’ll tear you ap—

This is better, is the point. Out of the frying pan and into the crime ridden streets of Gotham. Not quite a fire but close enough.

No one is hunting him down in this dimension, at least. He’s ignored and left to his own devices, wandering the streets only when the sun’s gone down and slipping into grocery stores after hours, invisible, to get a few things to eat. It sucks that he’s resorted to stealing to survive, but at least he’s surviving.

Survival is the entire reason he ran from his own dimension, after all.

He’s been here for two and a half weeks now, getting acquainted with the streets. Every day is spent hiding and trying to endure the crushing loneliness and grief of losing his entire life. He’s still half alive, yes, but the life he lived has gone up in flames, torn to pieces under his parents’ attacks. He can’t even blame them for it; under the circumstances, with the limited understanding they had, it’s only natural that they would try to kill him after discovering that Danny Fenton, their son, died two years ago.

Understanding doesn’t stop the sting of betrayal, doesn’t soothe the ache of being chased away from his family, but it’s something.

It’s all he has, these days.

There’s no one to hide from, no one who knows him at all, so Danny wanders, more ghost-like than he’s ever been before. People give him a wide berth at night, never making eye contact and walking by faster.

Save for one, of course. One person, at dawn, who always seems to find him no matter where Danny’s wandered that night.

He introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth. The British accent caught Danny off guard enough that he stopped and turned to face the man, who stood a few feet away, umbrella held over his head.

“Are you quite all right, my boy?” he had asked. “I have a spare umbrella if you would like to keep from getting any more soaked.”

It took a few tries for Danny to find his voice after a week of not speaking a word. “No,” he rasped, barely audible over the rain, “I’m fine.”

He walked away without another word, thinking that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Alfred returned dawn after dawn, never staying longer than ten minutes, trying to make small talk with Danny.

Danny, for his part, had no idea why this random British man had decided to make friends with a homeless teenager, but figured that he was just a lonely old man with no family left. That, Danny could understand. So he’d stay for a bit, listening to him talk and occasionally replying, then say his goodbyes when more people began to emerge onto the street.

Two and a half weeks in, Alfred finally asks Danny for his name.

“Why?” Danny asks, shifting where he stands. He doesn’t exist here, but it doesn’t stop his instinctual need to run from anyone who goes looking into him. The GIW don’t exist here, no one is hunting him down. There’s no information about him in this dimension that can be used against him. It’s hard to remember that, not after he’s spent the last few years trying to keep ghost hunters from finding him.

“I feel it’s rather rude of me to speak to someone I have never properly greeted,” Alfred says. He always speaks so calmly, as if there’s nothing in the world that can shake his composure.

I don’t exist here, Danny reminds himself, I’m safe.

“Danny.”

“Danny,” Alfred repeats. “A fine name.”

“Thanks? It was my first birthday present.”

The stupid comment makes Alfred smile, just a little, so Danny calls it a win instead of beating himself up over having zero control over what his mouth says.

There’s more movement along the streets now, Gotham beginning to wake up with storeowners getting ready for the day and morning shift employees heading out to let the night shift go. It’s just about time for them to part ways until the next morning, and Danny’s resigning himself to another day of loneliness.

His short conversations with Alfred are really all he looks forward to. It’s nice to hear about the man’s time in England, his work as a butler, his opinions on American cuisine and the like. He never presses for a response and he doesn’t try to dig for more information about Danny. Just talks to him, then says his goodbyes.

“I’ll let you go back to your day,” Danny says, pushing off of the wall he’s been leaning against. “See you around.”

Alfred nods once. “Very well. I do hope you get some rest today, Danny. You always look very tired when we talk. I hope I haven’t been keeping you from sleeping.”

“Oh, not at all. I just have insomnia. Better to have some company than just lay around wondering why I can’t sleep, you know?”

“Indeed. I shall be off then.”

“Yeah, alright,” Danny says. “I’ll see you tomorrow once you somehow track me down again. Are you sure you don’t have magic?”

Alfred shakes his head with a small smile. “I am quite positive I do not have magic. Perhaps we simply have similar ideas about where the best places to walk are.”

“Sure,” Danny says, drawing out the word. “Whatever you say.”

Truth be told, the first few days, he was scared that Alfred was somehow tracking him down. For what, Danny didn’t know. Maybe he wanted to harvest Danny’s organs? Sell him to an evil scientist to be experimented on? Induct him into a mob?

Alfred didn’t do any of that. He just showed up, talked for a few minutes, then went on his way. He never followed Danny, never asked strange questions, never did anything besides chat about his life and his work as a butler.

It honestly was fun to listen to. It’s clear how much Alfred cares for his employers. Before meeting him, Danny had never really thought of butlers beyond being an outdated job for people too rich to do their own chores. Now it’s interesting, learning all the things a butler has to do and why Alfred chooses to do them.

He still doesn’t have a favorable opinion on billionaires. Too many bad experiences for him to view them is any unbiased light (thanks for that, Vlad, but eat the rich either way); still, it’s nice to know that this family looks out for Alfred. They give him a place to live, a family to live with, a reason to stay.

It would be nice if Danny could have those too, in any way that he could. He’s at the end of his rope, struggling to stay and not surrender himself into the Zone and be done with the living realm entirely.

Even his Obsession isn’t enough to sustain him. There’s no one to protect here; honest to god vigilantes patrol the streets of Gotham to keep it safe. Danny isn’t needed here.

There’s no place for him at all.

Already, his mood is plummeting and all he’s done is take a few steps away from Alfred. It doesn’t bode well for his future, whether that’s what’s to come in the next few hours or the next year.

Sighing, Danny ducks his head back down and begins his search for someplace to bunker down for the day. There are quite a few empty buildings around, newly constructed but not yet in use. He doubts there’s any security installed yet, so he should be safe to settle in and catch some sleep before the sun goes down.

Just as he turns the corner, he hears someone running. They’re behind him and he tenses, ready to disappear so they can’t get him.

It’s not Danny they go to. It’s Alfred.

“Hand over your wallet if you want to get out of here alive, old man!”

Shit, Danny thinks, spinning on his heel to get back to Alfred. He rounds the corner to see a mugger jabbing a gun at Alfred’s temple. He looks angry, nearly shaking, and there’s a strange shine in his eyes.

Drugs? No, not important. What’s important is that Alfred is standing still, as calm as ever, with his hands lifted in the air.

“Hey!” Danny yells, sprinting towards them, “Back the fuck up before I rip your tongue out!”

Fear and anger push him on, his Obsession whispering protect protect protect in his ear and he closes the distance between them.

The mugger barely has time to move the gun away from Alfred’s head, and no time at all to point it at Danny, before Danny tackles him, slamming him onto the ground. He rips the gun out of the mugger’s hand and tosses it carelessly to the side.

“Don’t touch him,” he hisses. Faintly, he’s aware that his features are shifting, becoming a little less human. The snarl building in his chest has his teeth sharpening, bared in warning.

The mugger trembles beneath him, thrashing weakly. “Alright, alright! Just lemme go! Let go!”

He doesn’t want to. Danny wants to hurt him for daring to go after Alfred, the one good light in the dark, the only person Danny cares about in this dimension. He wants to make this man regret his choices, make him terrified for the rest of his life, break every bone in his hand so he can’t ever pick up a gun again.

A hand drops onto his shoulder.

“That’s enough, Danny,” Alfred says. His voice is stern and Danny can’t help but listen, effortlessly pulled out of his adrenaline fueled rage. His humanity returns to him. “There we are. Come now, my boy, stand up.”

He stands. The mugger scrambles to his feet and runs away.

With the danger gone, Danny can think clearly again. He takes a few deep breaths and locks his ghost-half away as tightly as possible, keeping the cold in his chest buried deep. It was good for scaring away a mugger, but he doesn’t want Alfred to think he’s a monster.

He can handle a lot, but not that.

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking over Alfred for any injuries. There’s no telling that was done to him before Danny got the mugger away from him. It may have only been a moment, but Danny knows very well how quickly a moment can change a life (or take it away).

“Quite. In fact, I am sure you are in worse shape than I am, at the moment.” Alfred gestures downwards and Danny follows his gaze to his knees, where his already worn jeans have new holes in them. His knees are skinned from how hard he slammed into the ground, a dull ache he hadn’t noticed until it was pointed out to him.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I can barely feel it.”

Alfred gives him a hard look, as though he thinks Danny is lying; he’s not, the pain is barely there. He’s had a lot worse in the past. He can handle skinned knees easily.

“Well,” Alfred says, “Thank you for coming back to help me. If there’s anything I can do to pay you back—”

“No. I don’t… I didn’t do it for payment. I don’t need anything.”

“I would like to—”

“No,” Danny interrupts again. “No payment. I just did what was right. Don’t make this a big deal, please.”

Alfred sighs. “Very well,” he concedes, looking more tired and worn than Danny’s ever seen him. “I shall not keep you any longer. Until tomorrow, Danny.”

He looks as though he expects Danny to take the out, to leave immediately. Danny shifts, not meeting his eyes as he doesn’t move.

“I’ll walk with you,” he mumbles. “So no one tries to hurt you again.”

Danny’s worried that Alfred will insist on going alone, that he’ll have to go invisible and follow along when he isn’t wanted, but Alfred is kinder than that. Alfred doesn’t refuse or insist he go on his own. No, he smiles and thanks Danny for his consideration before taking off, making sure that Danny walks besides him rather than behind him.

They don’t talk much. Alfred seems to know that Danny isn’t much for words at the moment, sticking to his side and constantly surveying their surroundings for any danger. He walks confidently through the streets as though he wasn’t just held at gunpoint, carrying on with his morning with the same stubborn spirit that keeps most Gothamites from giving up on their city.

Alfred visits a small bakery first. They’re not yet open, but the owner props open the door when they arrive, waving them in.

“Alfred!” she greets cheerfully, “And I see you have someone new with you.”

She looks expectantly at Danny, who shifts uncomfortably under the attention. He can’t get his voice to work, can’t figure out how to get the right words out.

“Ah, yes,” Alfred says, smoothly drawing her attention off of Danny. “This is Danny. We often talk in the morning and he has decided to accompany me today.”

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Yurica. Alfred and I enjoy some tea together in the mornings before starting with our days. Why don’t you join us?”

“I don’t… mean to intrude,” Danny manages to say before Yurica waves off his hesitant refusal.

“Nonsense! Any friend of Alfred is a friend of mine. Come, come, let’s get the two of you seated. You’ll get the first picks of the day, once I get the last batches out of the ovens.”

She leads them into the bakery, past the kitchen and upstairs into a small sitting room. Danny follows them, unable to leave without seeming rude. He joins Alfred on the couch, awkwardly perched on the edge as Yurica bustles around, disappearing down the hall.

Distantly, he hears the sound of running water and a stove top being turned on. The clinking of cups follows, along with the opening and closing of cupboards. It almost sounds like home, when Jazz was setting herself up for a long study session to make sure she’s prepared for college.

Without noticing, Danny relaxes back into the couch. He keeps his eyes closed, just listening to the movement around the building; it’s soothing white noise that chases away the constant ache of loneliness he’s been carrying these past few weeks.

“Quite the relaxing home, isn’t it?” Alfred asks.

“You come here every day?”

“Not every day, but a few times a week. We’re old friends and are often up before anyone else. It’s nice to catch up for just a few minutes, especially at our age.”

He wonders if this is what it feels like, spending time with grandparents. He never met his own, could never relate to the kids who were always excited to spend time with their grandparents over the holidays, eager to be part of a bigger family. It was fine, before, when it was just him, Jazz, and their parents.

It was fine.

It didn’t last.

Yurica returns a few minutes later, carrying a tray full of cups and a teapot made to look like a fat cat. The sight of it makes him smile, almost distracting him from noticing the way Yurica and Alfred share a Look.

“Here we are,” she says, setting the tray down on the table. She lays out the cups before Danny can offer to help, pouring out fragrant tea with a steady hand. “Cream? Sugar?”

Alfred adds cream to his own cup while Danny shakes his head, quietly thanking her for the tea.

He cradles his cup in his hands, savoring the gentle warmth while Alfred and Yurica chat. He tunes them out, letting their voices fade into background noise.

This is the most relaxed he’s felt in months. It’s sad to think about, so he tries not to, but it lingers in the back of his mind.

Time passes without him noticing. Danny sips his tea until his cup is empty, then sets it down on the tray. That seems to be a cue that Alfred was waiting for, long done with his own cup, and he stands, thanking Yurica for her hospitality.

She waves it off with a smile before Danny can echo the sentiments, then ushers them downstairs, where trays of freshly baked pastries fill cover the counters of the bakery’s kitchen.

“Here, take your pick!”

Danny’s about to refuse when she shoves a paper bag into his hands. “Go on,” she says, “Take what you like. I always offer to friends and I find refusal to be rude.”

Now that she’s said that, Danny can’t keep refusing or he’ll feel awful. Alfred is already picking out a few pastries himself, so Danny trails after him, taking three pastries that look good. It’ll be enough to tide him over for the next two days, so he won’t have to steal any food.

“Thank you again, Yurica,” Alfred says, “It’s always a pleasure to chat with you.”

“Oh, you’re always such a sweet talker,” Yurica laughs. “I’ll see you again soon, Alfred. And you, Danny, are welcome here whenever. Even without Alfred. My doors are open to you.”

Yurica is kind. She sees him in all his scraggly, worn down glory, clearly homeless and with nothing to offer her, and she doesn’t turn him away. Instead she welcomes him in solely because he’s here with Alfred.

It’s enough to have him blinking back tears, ducking his head so they don’t see how much this affects him.

“Thank you,” he manages, then hurries to follow Alfred out the bakery.

Yurica waves at them from the door as they make their way down the street, then goes back in to continue preparing for the day.

Alfred walks around some more; he informs Danny that he has no errands to run at the moment and no one else to visit. Danny follows, keeping an eye out for anyone who might think Alfred is an easy target. He barely pays attention to where they go until they enter an underground parking garage.

The weak lights and stillness of the garage, along with the fact that it’s almost entirely empty, makes a fissure of unease race down his spine. This would be the perfect place for Danny to be knocked out and taken away; no witnesses, no help.

But Alfred wouldn’t do that. Danny wants to believe that Alfred wouldn’t do that.

He stops when Alfred pulls out a set of keys from his pocket. A black car in the back corner of the parking garage unlocks with a quick flash of the headlights. That is… an expensive looking car. It’s not an obvious luxury brand or anything, but it’s high quality and clearly made for people with money.

Guess being a butler pays well, Danny thinks.

Alfred opens the door, but doesn’t get into the car. Instead, he looks to Danny.

“Will you be alright, Danny? If you’d like, I have a first aid kit in the car that we can use to tend to your knees.”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks, though,” Danny says, trying to keep from tensing up too obviously.

“And you have a place to stay?”

“Sure do,” he lies.

“If you ever need help, you are welcome at Wayne Manor.”

Danny nods, intending to never go to the manor. He’s not going to risk another rich person trying to either 1) kill him or 2) make him their son. No way. Not in this dimension.

Alfred looks him over, then nods. He gets into the car, offering Danny a quick goodbye. Danny lifts a hand in return, then leaves the parking garage, holding his bag of pastries close to his chest. More people are starting to fill the streets, starting the day, and Danny still hasn’t found a place to hide until night.

He’s kept Alfred safe during his dawn walk. He’s safely delivered Alfred to his car so he can drive to wherever he needs to go.

There’s no point in him sticking around any longer.

Hood up, Danny hurries down the streets, ducking into alleys to avoid being seen by people. It takes half an hour to reach the empty buildings he was considering before, and then just a minute to go invisible and fly up to the roof. The door going inside is locked, but a little intangibility goes a long way.

Danny makes himself comfortable in one of the many empty rooms, back to the wall, and pulls out one of the pastries. It’s not as warm as before, but it’s still soft and flakey. The glaze on it sweetens the bread and it’s the best thing Danny’s had since he first arrived in this dimension.

This can’t go on, he realizes.

All this squatting and stealing. It’s just not sustainable. He’s been acting as if he’s died again, left to haunt the streets of a city he doesn’t belong in. He’s spent all his time either sleeping or wandering, wallowing in his own misery.

No more. This is a second chance.

There’s no ghost hunters. No GIW. No need to be a hero when so many already exist, willingly taking on that burden. Here, Danny doesn’t exist, which means he can be anyone he wants to be.

And in order to live this new life, he’ll need a job. He’ll worry about school once he’s able to save up some money and find a place to live.

Step one to getting his shit together: find a job that will take on a homeless teenager who doesn’t legally exist.

He’s already got one in mind; Alfred does keep offering to help in any way he can, and he’s made working as a butler sound fulfilling.

Serving isn’t quite protecting, but it’ll be close enough that he can satisfy his Obsession.

The pieces are falling into place. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes this plan.

He’ll ask Alfred about it when they next meet. Everything else can wait until then.

(“Are you sure you’re okay, Alfred?”

“Quite,” Alfred says, smoothly stepping away from Bruce’s fussing. “Danny scared the mugger away before he could do anything.”

“I’m glad he was there. Are you sure I can’t go meet him? Thank him in person?”

“You’ll only scare him away, I’m afraid.”

Bruce sighs, reaching for his cup of coffee. “What about as Batman?”

“That will only be worse, I’m sure. Not everything can be solved by putting on a mask, Master Bruce.”

Tim enters the kitchen, drops a tablet on the table in front of Bruce, then collapses into his seat with a groan. “I can’t find anything on him. Are we sure he’s real?”

“I assure you he is very real, Master Tim.”

Tim lifts his head to give Alfred a bleary, assessing stare. “I know we always rag on B about his adoption problem, but he got it from you. You’re not going to stop until you get this Danny guy into the Manor, right?”

“It’s either that or setting up a home for him in Gotham.”

“Bring him here,” Tim says with a yawn, putting his head back on the table, “Now I’m curious about him, too.”

“I shall do my best, Master Tim. I shall do my best.”)

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp x dc fanfic #danny fenton #alfred pennyworth #my writing #fic #chapter one of three!! dont ask abt an update schedule. i dont have one and never will #i just want alfred to adopt danny. he found danny first in this one!!#i mean. bruce had to get it from somewhere #and that somewhere is alfred taking care of a child who suddenly became an orphan and had no one else #its a family trait really #butler danny au #alfred's apprentice au

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