[Third Person's PoV]
Danny lay on a medical cot in the Batcave, bandages wrapped around his torso and arms. He groaned softly, shifting side to side as he began to stir. His eyelids felt impossibly heavy, but he forced them open. The first thing he heard was Dick's voice ringing out.
"He's waking up!"
Danny gave a weak grin as he blinked blearily at his surroundings. "Sup, doc," he greeted, his voice hoarse.
"You came around faster than we thought," Dick replied with a relieved smile.
"That's what... she said," Danny managed to chuckle, wincing immediately as pain shot through his ribs. He clutched his stomach. "Heh... worth it."
"Seriously?" Dick said, rolling his eyes at the poorly timed joke. "Don't move around too much. You're still healing."
Danny forced a mock-serious expression onto his face. "Alright, doc, be straight with me. How much time do I have left?"
"You have a few broken ribs, a punctured lung, internal bleeding... but with your healing factor, it's all manageable," came Batman's voice as he approached from the shadows, his cowl pulled back. He stopped at Danny's bedside.
Danny's eyes widened dramatically. "Oh no! It's worse than I thought, isn't it? Batman, at my bedside? This is it! All I need now is the entire Justice League to send me off."
"If he has enough energy to crack bad jokes, he'll be fine," Dick muttered, shaking his head.
"Sorry, sorry," Danny said, wincing again. "I'm using humor to mask the pain." He turned to Bruce. "You were saying?"
Bruce's expression didn't soften as he continued, "Despite the severity of your injuries, your healing factor means you'll recover quickly. I estimate three to seven days before you're back to full strength."
"Yay," Danny said weakly, his voice laced with sarcasm. Then, his tone sobered. "Was anyone hurt? I just remember an explosion, then... nothing."
Bruce's frown deepened. "No. Luckily, no one else was injured."
Danny sighed in relief but couldn't resist quipping, "What did this guy, no one, do to you that you say it's luckily he got hurt–Alright, sorry, I'll stop now" He immediately stopped as Bruce gave him a sharp, reproachful glare.
Dick stifled a laugh at Danny's failed attempt to diffuse the tension. "Oh man, you're actually getting the look. Welcome to my world."
Bruce turned and began to walk away. "Your work is being suspended indefinitely."
Danny's jaw dropped. "Wait a minute! My jokes weren't that bad. You're grounding me from hero work because I made a few lame cracks?"
Even Dick looked shocked by Bruce's pronouncement.
"This has nothing to do with your jokes," Bruce said, his tone cold and matter-of-fact. "It didn't occur to me until now how reckless I was to bring you along. I let my pity for your situation blind me. You're not ready for this kind of work. You're a danger—to yourself and to others. Until I deem you prepared, your role here is over."
"Pity? Weak?" Danny growled, pushing himself to sit upright despite the obvious pain. He swayed and almost fell, but Dick quickly caught him.
"Danny, don't—" Dick started, but Danny shook him off.
"You think I don't know you pity me?" Danny snapped, glaring at Bruce. His voice was low, but his words carried weight. "It's obvious. So obvious even a blind man could see it. The only reason I even have this 'luxury'—this roof over my head, this mentor, this chance—is because of your pity."
His voice cracked, but he didn't stop. "And yeah, I appreciate it. I do. But don't think for a second I need your pity, because I don't. I can survive on my own."
Danny's hands clenched into fists despite the pain. "And as for being weak? In case you missed it, I just won that exchange and took down someone who called themselves the 'Greatest Hunter.' I did that on my own—no backup, no team, just me."
"You won? This doesn't look to me like the condition of a winner" Bruce sneered as he looked at Danny up and down his battered state, "And in case you have forgotten it's thanks to me you're alive to argue in the first place. You would have been dead on that roof top if I arrived even a second too late. I will not have your death in my conscience simply because I let an inexperienced kid with new powers play the hero!"
"We both knew this job was dangerous from the start!" Danny shot back angrily, his voice filled with defiance. "We knew the chances of me dying—or being in a constant state of near-death—were going to be the norm if I took up the mantle of a hero. Just because it's happened once doesn't mean I'm unfit for this line of work!"
Danny limped toward Bruce, his movements slow and pained, but his determination unwavering. He stopped just short of Bruce, tilting his head back to meet the imposing figure's sharp, narrowed blue eyes.
"The last thing I'm afraid of in this life is death," Danny growled, his voice low but carrying the weight of his conviction. "Death can have me when I deem her worthy. So don't think for a second that just because I faced it once, I'm suddenly going to back down and stop doing this."
He jabbed a finger into the Bat-symbol on Bruce's chest, his hand trembling from a mix of pain and emotion. "Not you, nor death, is going to stop me. Do you think I'm doing this just because of my parents? Sure, they're part of it—they play a major role. But that's not the only reason. I'm doing this for the simple fact that it's the right thing to do."
Danny's voice cracked slightly as unshed tears glistened in his eyes, his body trembling under the weight of both physical and emotional strain. "If I hear someone screaming for help or see a ghost terrorizing some innocent person, you think I'm just going to turn a blind eye because The Great Batman decided I'm not 'worthy enough' to be a hero?!"
He stepped back, his narrowed gaze never leaving Bruce's. "You can decide a lot of things about my life, Bruce. But whether or not I get to be a hero? That's not one of them."
Danny took a deep, shaky breath, his determination unwavering as two glowing rings of light appeared around his waist. They swept up and down his body, transforming him into his ghost form. The bandages that had been wrapped around his body fell away, slipping to the floor as he became intangible.
Without another word, Danny flew upward through the ceiling, disappearing into the night.
The Batcave fell into silence.
Dick rubbed a hand over his head, his expression torn between frustration and helplessness. Bruce stood frozen in place, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, his jaw set in silent tension.
From the staircase, Alfred stopped halfway down, holding a tray of refreshments. He blinked at the scene, then slowly, wordlessly retreated back up the steps, deciding he had no desire to intrude on whatever had just transpired.
…
As Danny flew over Gotham City, he failed to notice a woman standing atop a skyscraper rooftop, a black umbrella resting on her shoulder. She twirled it lazily, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.
"'Death can have me when I deem her worthy,'" she quoted with amusement, her voice laced with a hint of mockery. "What a funny little fella."
Her eyes followed Danny's flight path as he dove into a building emblazoned with the sign Fenton Works.
Meanwhile, Danny grumbled to himself during the entire journey, irritation bubbling over as he instinctively flew down to the basement where the Ghost Portal was stored. He reverted back to his human form, plopping onto the cold floor with a frustrated huff.
"Stupid Bruce," Danny muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Who does he think he is? Just because he's Batman doesn't mean he knows everything. He's the one who's weak, not me. I'd like to see him lift a whole school bus above his head without any effort or a super suit."
Minutes ticked by, and Danny continued his grumbling tirade, occasionally mimicking Bruce's stern voice under his breath.
Unbeknownst to him, Dick was slowly making his way into the basement, letting out a long, tired sigh. He found Danny still muttering to himself.
"I don't need him. There are plenty of other amazing fighters I could learn from," Danny was ranting. "Like Wonder Woman, for example. Hehehe… Wonder if she takes male students?"
"Stop being a weirdo," Dick interrupted, walking further in. He plopped down beside Danny, who immediately flinched and sprang into a sloppy karate stance.
"Oh, it's just you," Danny said, lowering his hands. "What are you doing here? Here to make sure I don't blab about your secret identity? Don't worry—I'm not that spiteful."
"No," Dick replied firmly. "I'm here to bring you back home."
"I am home," Danny shot back, gesturing around. "See that big ol' sign out front? Fenton Works. My family name."
"You know what I meant," Dick said, rolling his eyes. "Stop being such a baby. Bruce is just...complicated. He's worried about you and doesn't know how to show it. He was the same way with me when I first started. You've got no idea how many arguments we had because I'd get seriously hurt."
Danny crossed his arms, his expression hard. "If you think for a second I'm gonna crawl back there and bow my head, you're dead wrong. I don't regret a single thing I said."
"I'm not saying you need to apologize," Dick assured him. "Honestly, I think you were in the right. It takes a lot of guts to stand up to him the way you did. Not many members of the Justice League would even dare to—"
Danny turned to Dick with a completely serious expression, cutting him off. "Look, I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but...I'm into girls. I can't return your feelings for me."
"What the—" Dick started, his brows knitting in confusion. Then it clicked. His face fell into a deadpan expression as Danny's grin slowly grew.
"I seriously hate your guts sometimes," Dick muttered darkly.
Danny shrugged, clearly amused. "Then stop complimenting me like that, you weirdo."
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