Chapter Text
Danny protested at first. He needed to be in amity to protect it from angry spirits. Of course, he couldn't tell them that. Even though it is partly their fault for building the stupid portal that constantly brings in more ghosts. But it was actually team Phantom that convinced him to go. Insisting it would be a well needed break from all the chaos. And a 2 hour flight would give him some time to sleep, for once.
Or at least he would have if he weren't too busy figuring out whether or not he could have gotten there faster on his own.
When he got off the plane, he couldn't use his powers. The security cameras would have caught him. So he had to walk. Was walking always this hard? Danny pulled a folded up photo from his pants pocket (Jazz insisted he should know what this guy looked like) and started searching for the huge square man, who, aside from their dress sense, looked a lot like his dad.
Harvey didn't have kids of his own. And to be honest with ya, most people didn't want him near theirs. Sure, there were a few times when he'd picked Barbara up from school and brought her to the station. And the occasional child witnesses. But that hardly counted. And when he saw the small, sickly, pale teen with eyebags rivaling the commissioners, struggle to pull a small suitcase of the baggage bealt. He knew this kid didn't need a Bullock. He needed a break.
Harvey was no monster. He was gruff, blunt, and didn't try to be nice, but he was still softer with kids. How can anyone not be? Especially someone who's been a detective in Gotham for any amount of time.
The ride home was quiet. Not for lack of effort. Harvey tried to start a conversation, and the kid did answer his questions. But every answer was quiet, monotone, and took ages to come out. It was like he hadn't slept in ages.
"I got a bed ready for ya inside," He said when they reached his apartment. "It's fine if you wanna turn in early."
Huh. He'd never gotten that offer before. His ghost sense hadn't gone off in a while, so it should be safe. But he also doesn't know this guy. "It's only 3pm." He responded, looking like he could pass out on the spot.
"What? You got school in the morning or somethin'?"
Danny just blinked, slowly trying to understand. Thinking really did get a lot harder when he stayed up too long. Eventually, he just walked into the room Bullock was pointing at. Barely remembering to use the door rather than phase.
That evening, Harvey called Jim. Not as a police commissioner but as a friend [a distinction he rarely cared to make]
'Teenagers can be a little tricky,' he had said. 'But a little trust can go a long way' that part didn't fit with what the Fentons had told him. According to them, Danny was truble. Bullock had mentioned that, but Jim's sentiments stayed consistent. 'Build your own relationship with the boy. At that age, they wanna be independent, but obviously, you can't give him total freedom that would be dangerous. So just give him a little at a time. Let him earn it.' OK, that made sense, Harvey didn't like being told what to do all the time, so why would someone else?
By the end, Harvey had a long list of parenting tips for teens.
Danny woke up only 6:18 pm. That was pretty typical for him these days. Staying in bed had gotten so much harder since he saw what became of his future self. And with more ghosts attacking Amity every day, he never really got a chance to catch his breath.
"Oh, you're up." Harvey closed his laptop and got up. "I was just about to order takeout, but we could go to the diner down the street. They have the best sandwiches." Involve teen in decisions. Check.
"Um, whichever's fastest. I'm starving." He answered, looking almost alive.
They passed two other fast food places on the three minute walk to the small empty diner aside from the middle-aged woman behind the counter. "Harvey, darlin', it's been too long." She says gleefully. "What'll it be? Usual for you and somthin' fer the kid?"
Danny just picked the first thing on the menu that didn't have a fire symbol next to it.
The two sat at a Booth that Bullock seemed familiar in. His seat was more worn down than the others, and there were scuff marks on the table, matching where he put his arms down. Paired with how the owner talked to him.
"You like her." Danny teased.
"What?" Harvey whispered, trying not to let her hear. "Marge is sweet, an' she feeds me. But yer readn' inta things that ain't there."
"No, I'm not. Your seat is more worn than all the others. It's obviously used more. And it fits your butt perfectly." He emphasized 'butt'. "Then there's the table." He says, pointing to the scuff marks. "These are from the buttons on your coat. When you sat down, you slid your hands over the table. Presumably a habit." A smugg smile spread across his face. "And of course she called you by name."
This wasn't on the list. This wasn't on the list!
"Nice try, weisenheimer. That's just evidence of me bein' a regular. Not a skeeve. This place is near my appartment." Bullock defended, face still red. But his efforts to shut Danny down just fired him up more.
"Oh sure." He grinned. "But those other two places were closer." Harvey didn't have a response for that. "And speaking of your apartment. It's old, but you haven't lived there long." With that, Harvey was finished. There was no way to come back from this. "From the looks of it, I'd say you moved in shortly after the previous tenant died. Murdered I'd say. About two weeks ago?" Ok, so Danny may have cheated a little when he helped the previous tenant move on.
They shoulda stood home. Harvey couldn't deny anything. He was right. He was just right. He moved into that apartment to have an excuse to see Marge more often. The rent was a bit higher than his old place, and he was further from bars, but he still wanted to live there. Cause he's a sucka.
Their discussion was cut short when Marge rang her bell and walked over, wiping some sauce on her apron. "Eat up, boys. I wancha nice and fat before I throw you in my cauldron." She snickered in a mock witchy voice as she went back to the kitchen.
"Fine, yer right. Marge is a treasure." Bullock relents. "But that's between you and me, got it?"
Danny had no intention of spreading the word. He was just a little shit.
When they got back home, danny went straight back to sleep. This time, managing a full 5 hours. More than twice his average.
At 1:47 am. Danny left his room. He knew there wouldn't be much for him to do. He just couldn't do nothing. And there was Uncle Harvey. Dressed, strapped, and ready to leave.
Danny's eyes lit up. "Was there a muder? Are you going to a case?" He beamed. "Can I come?"
"Absolutely not. Kids your age shouldn't be around dead bodies."
"Come on, my parents are ghost hunters. I've seen enough death."
"Exactly, you've seen /enough/ death."
"I'll behave. I promise." The kid begged. Why does he want this?
"Look, you've got a TV over there and a laptop, you could video chat your friends or somthin'. I can't take ya ta a crime scene." Are all kids like this? Is that why the bats always got his birds around.
Danny's face looked disappointed but not in a 'im going to do as I'm told but I'm not happy about it' kind of way. It was more of a 'oh, bother, guess I have to sneak' kind of way. Which is exactly what Bullock would do. What did Jim's advice say again?
"Tell ya what. You stay here until... at least 7. And I'll bring ya to the station tomorrow. During lunch. You stay inside till 7, then you can go out, maybe make some friends. And at 12 I'll come here and pick ya up. Sound good?" Show him that listening to you is more rewarding than not listening to you. Check.
Danny looked over at the laptop and considered the offer. "Ok, I'll stay till 7 and be here by 12." This guy was completely different from his parents. They never offer a compromise.