[Third Person's PoV]
The Batmobile screeched to a halt in the narrow alleyway beside a grimy ammunition store, its tires screeching against the cracked pavement. The sun had already begun its descent behind the towers of Gotham's skyline, casting long shadows that draped over the alley cresting the scene of dusk. The air was thick with the scent of oil, metal, and faint cigarette smoke from the nearby dumpster.
Robin turned in the passenger seat, flashing a playful smile at the person behind him. "Would you look at that," he quipped, voice light and teasing. "Doesn't this situation fall under your cliché theory? Third time's the charm, huh?"
Danny didn't respond with amusement. Instead, he stared at Dick with a flat, unamused expression that made the younger hero immediately regret his joke.
Dick's smile faltered as he laughed awkwardly, slowly turning forward again to seek rescue from the tension. He leaned subtly toward the front seat and mouthed to Batman: Do something!
But Batman, ever stoic, offered no such mercy. He merely opened the car door and stepped out silently, his cape rustling in the rising evening breeze.
Robin groaned softly and followed him, while Danny didn't bother with the door at all. With an eye-roll and a short sigh, he phased intangibly and floated through the car and into the alley like a ghost, his body leaving behind a faint shimmer in the air.
---
Inside the ammunition store, rows of rifles and handguns lined the walls. Crates filled with boxes of bullets and shotgun shells were stacked neatly near the entrance. The air buzzed faintly with the drone of a nearby television, mounted above the counter, currently playing a low-budget crime show.
The store's owner leaned lazily against the counter, arms crossed, eyes glued to the screen. He didn't even notice the atmosphere shift—until the television flickered and died with a sudden pop.
Startled, he straightened up. The lights above began to flicker sporadically, casting brief flashes of shadow that crawled across the walls. A chill passed through the room. He glanced around nervously and reached below the counter, his hand brushing against the grip of a handgun.
Then, darkness.
The lights shut off completely.
Only the faintest glow from the streetlamps outside filtered in through the front windows and the narrow glass door, painting the interior in ghostly silhouettes.
"Did I blow a fuse or something—?" he muttered under his breath.
But then he froze.
A figure hovered just outside the door—floating, bobbing up and down slightly in the air. Most of the figure was shadowed, but the eyes… those glowing green eyes pierced through the glass like twin stars in the night.
Before the man could react, Robin suddenly appeared beside him, smacking the gun away with swift precision. Danny phased through the door as if it wasn't there, and Batman emerged from the darkness behind the store shelves like a living specter.
The lights flickered back on with a harsh buzz, restoring clarity to the scene.
"B-Batman!" the owner stammered, throwing up his hands. "I didn't do anything—I swear!"
"We're not accusing you of a crime," Batman said, stepping forward. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out a single shotgun shell, placing it firmly on the countertop. "But we do need you to answer a few questions. Do you recognize this item?"
The man looked at it, then squinted closer. "Of course. It's a shotgun shell."
He picked it up and turned it in his hand, running a thumb across the top. "Looks like it came from a pump-action, maybe a Remington or something close."
"Do you know who bought it from you?" Danny asked, voice sharp.
The owner frowned, clearly skeptical. "From a single shell casing? You think I'd know that?" He looked at Danny like he was the one who needed questioning.
Danny's eye twitched with frustration. Dick pressed his lips into a tight line and looked away, releasing a breath like he was bracing himself as he fought back a laugh.
Batman took a step forward, looming. "Have you had any customers recently who made large purchases—stockpiling ammunition or weapons?"
The man hesitated, then crossed his arms. "I'm not at liberty to say. I run a legitimate business. Client confidentiality is part of that. You can't just—"
"They forfeited that right," Danny interrupted coldly, stepping closer, "the second they started using your products to murder civilians. They don't get to hide behind privacy anymore. Now give us the name."
The owner's demeanor shifted. His brows furrowed, and he raised his voice. "Listen here, spectral brat, you can't just barge into my store and threaten me! I know who you people are, but you still have to follow the law! I have rights—!"
He didn't get to finish.
In the blink of an eye, Danny's hand seized the man by the collar, and with a sudden whoosh, they both vanished upward—phasing through the ceiling and out into the open sky.
"—AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhh!"
The scream trailed off into the distance. Dick and Batman both stepped forward, instinctively reaching out.
"Danny, stop—!"
But it was too late. Danny's flight speed was beyond what either of them could follow.
Batman growled under his breath and clenched his fist. "Damn it…"
---
High above the skyline, Danny soared through the air, holding the trembling man by his collar like a ragdoll. The wind howled around them, flattening the man's cheeks and blowing his hair wildly. The city below became smaller and smaller as they ascended, streetlights flickering on like stars in the growing darkness.
Night had fully taken hold by the time Danny slowed to a hover, suspended far above the glowing web of Gotham's streets.
From here, the city looked almost beautiful. Lights shimmered, buildings cast long shadows across the rooftops, and traffic flowed like glowing blood through the city's veins.
It would have been a breathtaking view—if not for the circumstances.
The man trembled, clutching at Danny's arm, knuckles white with fear. "P-Please… let me down! Release me! I-I'm innocent! I didn't do anything wrong! I swear!"
Danny's eyes narrowed. His grip on the man's collar tightened, glowing green irises boring into him. "Do you really think it's a smart idea to say release me when we're over five hundred feet in the air?"
The owner looked down, eyes widening in terror. "No! No, wait! Don't drop me—please!"
"Then give me what I want." Danny's voice was low, cold, unwavering. "A name. The name of the person who recently bought a suspiciously large amount of ammunition or weapons from your store. Now. Or I swear to you—I'll let go."
Danny let go of one hand, holding the man suspended by only his collar as they hovered hundreds of feet in the night sky. The store owner screamed, flailing his legs helplessly, the wind buffeting him as Gotham glittered far below. His panicked gaze darted to Danny, who stared back with cold, glowing green eyes—eyes that gleamed brighter with the deepening darkness. The faint city lights below only seemed to amplify the otherworldly aura around him. His white hair swayed gently, methodically, in the high-altitude breeze like it belonged to something not quite alive.
Then the man saw something even more terrifying than the view below—Danny's lips curled into a cold, eerie smile. His glowing eyes narrowed into sharp, crescent slits as he spoke in a singsong whisper.
"I am a ghost, you know~ Phasing through things is what we're known for," he said darkly. "Who knows... my hand might just slip right through your jacket and—oops."
And with that, Danny made his hand intangible.
The man shrieked as he slipped through Danny's grasp, dropping for half a second into freefall.
But just as quickly, Danny reached out and grabbed him again with his other hand.
"Y-you maniac!" the man sobbed, clinging to Danny's arm. "Please, please don't do that again!"
"You better hurry," Danny said calmly. "I'm not sure how long I can hold you. Slippery fingers and all…"
"Alright! Alright!! I'll talk—I'll talk! It was Dean Cooper! Dean Cooper, alright?! He's the guy you're looking for!" the man confessed in a frantic rush. "He came into my shop a week ago and bought a huge shipment of ammunition! I thought it was weird, but I didn't ask questions! Business is business!"
Danny's grip remained firm. "What else? I wanted details. And they better be honest, I doubt you want to see us a second time"
The man nodded desperately. "Uh—mid-twenties! Green eyes, black hair, full beard—probably five-nine, maybe five-ten. He… he mentioned living in Crime Alley. Said it during casual conversation while I was ringing him up."
Danny smirked again, though this time it was more restrained. "Thanks for your cooperation~"
He gave the man a few soft pats on the cheek before beginning their descent. They phased downward through the rooftops, floating back into the store's ceiling, and slowly landed behind the counter. Danny let the man down gently, though the look in his eyes remained as sharp as ever.
"We've got everything we need," he said simply, already walking toward the door.
Batman reached out and tried to place a hand on his shoulder. "We need to talk—"
But Batman's hand passed clean through Danny's ghostly form. The boy turned his head just enough to meet Batman's glare with a firm, detached expression.
"You can reprimand me all you want after the mission."
Then, without another word, the lights flickered off again, swallowing the shop in complete darkness. When they came back on, the store was empty. The trio had vanished without a trace.
The owner slumped into his chair with a shaky sigh of relief. His body trembled as he took a moment to catch his breath. He heard the roar of the batmobil before hearing it peel away.
Then, glancing around, he reached under the counter and pulled out a burner phone. His fingers trembled as he dialed a number.
"…Be ready," he whispered. "You've got company coming."
---
Inside the Batmobile, the engine hummed as they sped through Gotham's twisted streets, shadows streaking past the windows.
"You shouldn't have threatened him," Batman said at last, his voice low and stern. He kept his eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel. "He was innocent."
"Innocent?" Danny snapped from the back seat, arms crossed. "He was protecting a murderer. He knew what that guy—Dean—did with the ammo he sold him, and still kept his mouth shut under some pathetic client confidentiality excuse. That makes him complicit."
Batman's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Robin leaned forward from the passenger seat.
"Okay, I've got something. I cross-referenced the name—Dean Cooper. Our guy wasn't lying. Mid-twenties, black hair, green eyes, beard, height matches. His listed residence? Crime Alley. I'm locking in the location now."
"We should proceed carefully," Danny warned. "This is most likely a trap."
Robin looked back at him, brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?"
"Think about it," Danny said. "Apart from trying to protect him, he said that this Dean Cooper mentioned living in Crime Alley during their casual conversation, yet I highly doubt that. If I was going to do a heist in the next few days I wouldn't exactly be sharing where I could be found in casual conversation. That's either supreme arrogance or a setup."
"…Good point," Robin muttered. "But how do we know for sure this guy's the one we're looking for? Could be a wild goose chase."
Danny scoffed. "He was telling the truth."
Robin tilted his head. "How can you be so sure?"
Danny's eyes narrowed again into crescent slits. "Because he was terrified. And fear—true fear—makes it hard to lie. His heart was racing. His breath was shallow. He wasn't thinking—he was panicking. That's when people become most honest."
He leaned back, voice calm but calculating now. "Not to mention he has no choice but to be honest with us, there exists the Possibility that THE Batman will survive if this is truly a planned ambush and as long as that possibility exists he knows he wouldn't be safe if he lied to us. So for his own safety, he has no other possible choice but to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth"
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