A/N: Nice
[Third Person's PoV]
The Batmobile screeched to a halt just a few feet from the cordoned-off cri scene, its matte black surface gleaming faintly under the overcast sky. Bright yellow caution tape fluttered in the breeze, encircling the area and effectively keeping back the crowd of curious civilians who had gathered beyond the barricade.
Before the car's roof could fully retract, a glowing figure erged—Danny phased straight through the vehicle like a ghostly wraith, his bright green eyes illuminating his otherwise pale features. A few seconds later, the canopy hissed open, and both Batman and Robin stepped out in synchronized precision, their capes fluttering behind them.
As the trio approached the scene, a female officer in a dark blue uniform stepped forward, blocking their path with an outstretched arm. Her expression was stern, voice clipped. "Halt. Unauthorized personnel are not allowed beyond this point. You'll contaminate the—"
Her words faltered as she locked eyes with Danny. His luminescent green gaze pierced through her with supernatural intensity. Before she could react, Danny drifted forward—and passed directly through her body. She shivered violently, as if doused with freezing water, her breath catching in her throat.
Unfazed, Danny's spectral tail swayed rhythmically behind him as he glided into the restricted area. The scene ahead was grim—a transport vehicle had collided with the side of a building. From the looks of it, the wall it struck belonged to the storage section of a small restaurant. Thankfully, no other fatalities had been reported apart from the drivers, though a few people were being treated for injuries on the periter.
Officers gave Danny a wide berth, their eyes wide with curiosity and wariness. Most of them had never encountered a ghost in person, let alone one so casually moving through wreckage and caution tape.
Behind him, Batman and Robin lifted the yellow tape and entered the scene. Their presence commanded instant attention. Standing nearby, Commissioner Jas Gordon was speaking to a group of officers. As he spotted them, he quickly dismissed his n and walked over, the gravel crunching beneath his polished shoes.
"Well, Bats... This is unexpected," Gordon remarked, his tone sowhere between surprise and wry amusent. "Sun's still up. You usually keep to the shadows."
Batman gave a low grunt in response, his gaze tracking Danny as the ghost boy phased into the back of the cargo truck. "These weapons can't be allowed to circulate on the streets," he said in a gravelly tone. "I had to move before more people get hurt."
Inside the wrecked truck, Danny's expression darkened. He floated silently for a mont, inspecting every corner. The interior was completely empty—no crates, no residue, not even a scrap of packing material. Whoever had taken the contents had done so with thodical precision.
Robin clambered into the truck behind him, landing lightly. Danny glanced over his shoulder.
"Check the door," Danny said curtly.
"The door?" Robin echoed, montarily confused.
"Yes. It's open. That ans soone touched it. Which ans there could be fingerprints..."
Danny hovered toward the exit, arms folded. "They were wearing masks, but I didn't see gloves."
Robin blinked. "You noticed that in the middle of what was happening?"
"Yes," Danny said flatly. "Among other things."
He turned to leave, eyes scanning the horizon. "I just needed to confirm sothing here. I've got sothing else I need to do. I'll be back soon."
"Wait—Danny, where are you going?" Robin called out, brows furrowing.
But Danny didn't respond. With a flash of green energy, he shot into the sky, a blur against the gray clouds, moving at a speed too fast to track with the naked eye.
Robin sighed and jumped down from the truck bed, rubbing the back of his neck. Batman approached, the wind catching the edges of his cape.
"Where's he going?" Batman asked.
Robin shrugged. "He didn't say. Just told to check the door. Said he noticed they weren't wearing gloves."
Nodding, Batman turned his attention back to the cri scene as Robin raised his gloved forearm and began scanning the door handle with his mini-computer. A few seconds passed before a soft beep confird Danny's theory—a faint fingerprint glowed on the display, located near the back door's handle.
Robin frowned, tapping at the screen. "No matches in the database. There are still the fingerprints of the drivers but there is one that doesn't belong to any of them. Whoever this is, they've never been arrested. Not even flagged."
anwhile, Batman knelt beside the vehicle's tire tracks, which had been marked by a line of small yellow cones. The rubber had left burned impressions on the road, deep and fresh—whoever had fled did so with power and purpose.
Several minutes passed in tense silence as Batman and Robin continued their investigation. The officers on the periter watched them with a mix of irritation and unease. Their narrowed eyes and clenched jaws made it clear: they weren't thrilled about 'civilians'—even ones like Batman—interfering in their cri scene.
But the Dark Knight didn't care about protocol. Not when dangerous weapons were missing.
As Robin continued tapping at his wrist-mounted computer, scanning through potential matches and data logs, his eyes caught a flicker of green light in the sky. He looked up and saw Danny streaking through the air, headed straight toward them—and more precisely, toward Batman.
The boy ghost landed with silent grace, floating down until he hovered just above the cracked asphalt. His expression was unreadable as he extended his hand toward Batman.
"Here," Danny said flatly.
Nestled in his open palms was a red shotgun shell casing, its sides slightly scuffed, but otherwise intact.
Batman's eyes narrowed. "Where did you find that?"
Robin blinked in recognition, stepping closer. "Wait—that's the shell that killed the drivers. But that was fired blocks away from here…"
Danny gave a subtle nod, his face as still as stone. "I rembered the mont it was discharged—the trajectory, the angle, where the casing flew off. I didn't know the exact location, but I had the general area. I just followed the path until I found it."
"You tracked the shell casing mid-fight… and rembered its ejection point?" Robin muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
He turned to Batman again. "I'm thinking—if we can trace where this kind of this kind of shell is sold…"
"Then we might be able to trace it back to the buyer," Robin finished, nodding appreciatively. "That could give us a suspect."
Batman silently took the casing from Danny and examined it with the keen eye of a seasoned detective. His attention focused on the wad inside the shell, reading any manufacturer markings or ballistics signatures that could give them a lead.
"Good work," he said curtly. "Follow ."
"That's honestly the last thing I wanted to hear from you right now," Danny muttered, trailing after him.
Robin frowned, casting a glance at the halfa. "Look I understand why you're upset, trust I do, but don't bring grievances into the mission. It'll affect the dynamic and affect the success rate of the mission. You have to learn to separate your emotions from the mission"
Danny didn't look at him. Instead, he climbed into the Batmobile's rear seat, eyes still glowing faintly. "As true as that might be, you're forgetting sothing," he said, voice low. "You and Batman? You're not the ones at risk if these weapons fall into the wrong hands. You're not the ones that those weapons will affect, none of you are a ghost here. I am.
I'm the ghost in the city full of people looking for sothing to kill. So forgive if I can't separate my personal grievances from the mission—because this mission is personal. Plus they can turn ghost hunting into a sport, killing innocent ghosts as they please. After all who's going to arrest them? Who in their right mind would charge soone for killing sothing that's already dead?"
Robin paused, caught off guard. His mouth opened slightly before he closed it again, realizing he had nothing to counter that with.
"I… I hadn't thought of it that way," he admitted, his voice soft.
Batman didn't speak. He rely reached forward, pressing a hidden switch on the dashboard. A sleek compartnt opened between the seats. He placed the shotgun shell inside. The mont the lid closed, a holographic scan of the shell appeared on the car's central display.
"Supercomputer," Batman ordered. "Identify and display retail locations within Gotham that sell this ammunition type."
The screen flickered and shifted. A map of Gotham spread out before them, three red blips pulsing ominously across the city grid.
Robin leaned forward and tapped a few icons. "Marking nearest vendor… Target acquired. Coordinates locked."
All three clicked their seatbelts into place. Batman's hands gripped the wheel. With a chanical snarl, the Batmobile's rear wheels spun in place, smoke and dust billowing into the air as the tires burned against the asphalt. Then, like a slingshot let loose, the vehicle launched forward—roaring into the streets of Gotham with blinding speed.
Robin checked the rearview mirror out of habit—and caught a glimpse of Danny. The usual lightness in his expression was gone. No jokes, no sly comnts, no teasing glint in his eye. Just silence. His glowing eyes stared straight ahead, twin erald eyes just glowing nacingly without so much as a smile.
And for a brief mont, Dick Grayson felt a chill crawl up his spine.
He was reminded that for all of Danny's laid-back attitude and sharp wit, there was a part of him that didn't belong in the world of the living.
He had never realized before just how scary Danny could truly be at tis.
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