The Phantom Robin

10: The Waynes

Danny woke up some time before the sun. By the feel of it, just before seven. How would he know? Easy, one who fights at long hours of the night and day, you get good at sensing the time.

Biting back a yawn, the half ghost climbed out of the oversized bed. Of course, it had taken him several minutes to remember where he was. It helped that he could still vaguely smell Dickie's scent on the clothes he was wearing. He really didn't want to make a bad impression on Mr. Wayne and freak his twin out by having a violent panic attack.

Stretching, his back popped making him sigh heavily. He felt strangely relaxed and calmer than he could remember. Perhaps the last time he was this relaxed was the day he became a ghost. Still, he was hungry. Having a thing of soup the night before had awaken his senses to the fact he was starving himself.

Carefully, he hobbled out of his room and down several hallways, his eyes examining each hallway. He was passed out when he was carried to his room, so he was walking blind as to how to get downstairs, but that didn't stop him. He was sure he could find his way, after all the Fruitloop's manor was far bigger and grander with a stupid number of rooms and hallways literally meant to disorient. So far, Mr. Wayne didn't seem to have that many disorienting rooms or hallways-- they just creepily looked the same.

Eventually, he found the stairs, they were just down the hall to the left and a sharp right from his room apparently. However, his head began to sway, the room spinning and splitting. He felt like he was going to throw up. That wasn't necessarily a good sign, especially when his body began to fall forward, his grip on the banister slipping.

Warm hands- humanly warm- grabbed him and yanked him into their chest, the taller human pulling them several steps back from the stairs. A soft scent of rain, sweat, and popcorn mixed with some expensive cologne filled the halfa's senses. The scent was new, but he could already tell who it was.

"Dickie?" His icy blue eyes looked up to his twin, who's sky blue eyes roamed his face.

"You shouldn't be out of bed... You look sick." As Dick spoke, he shifted his hands and picked Danny up.

The smaller twin groaned, rolling his eyes.

"I'm fine." A subtle glare was given at that. "I'm just hungry, Ancients."

Dick shifted his stance as his twin dramatically flopped back into his arms, becoming dead weight... Which weighed less than a hundred pounds, wet. Still, he gave a bemused chuckle, shifting his hold to keep Danny close to him.

"Alright, but I'm carrying you. It'd be faster that way."

The smaller male simply shrugged, resting his head on his brother's shoulder.

They were silent as Dick moved about the manor with comfortable familiarity, and a pang of regret and guilt formed around Danny's core. Had he know, had he pushed, would he know the manor like Dick? Would he move like him? He couldn't be sure, not entirely.

It wasn't too long before they entered a kitchen. It was clean with black and white tiled floors and clean silver and gold marble counters and dark wood cabinets. The appliances were of the latest models and looked as if they were installed at least the night before. The kitchen was empty of people except one, the old butler from the night before.

His wrinkled face broke into a kind smile.

"Good morning, Master Dick, Young Daniel."

Danny scrunched his nose, pouting a little.

"Danny, please, Mister."

The butler nodded, chuckling under his breath.

"Alright, Young Danny. Please, call me Alfred."