Chapter Text
Bruce was possessed for an entire day without anyone noticing something was wrong. For a whole day, the imposter had unencumbered access to his bank accounts, his gear, his computers, his children. The amount of damage he could have caused filled him with a cold, chest-crushing dread. No one, not even Alfred, picked up on the fact that Bruce was not Bruce, let alone made any move to stop him. To be fair, the imposter appeared to be an evil ghost Batman, either from the future or an alternate timeline, he could convincingly pull off Bruce’s standard ‘I’m in a bad mood don’t come near me’ routine (“looks like he’s in a ‘Bat-Mood’, best to leave him alone,” Dick had informed the others when their father had simply grabbed a piece of toast and left instead of sitting with them for breakfast). If Bruce was in a more forgiving mood when he finally got out of his predicament, he might have been able to excuse them. But spending over twenty-four hours locked inside his own mind and struggling to regain control from ghost-Batman’s iron grip had rather soured his disposition.
It took Clark returning early and unannounced from an off-planet mission that finally did it. While imposter Bruce was busy at the bat computer working on his ‘research project’ that real Bruce had not been able to make heads or tails of its purpose, Superman swooped into the bat cave. The alarms didn’t go off because naturally Clark was on the approved access list, but apparently, imposter Bruce didn’t realize this. So when he was suddenly grabbed from behind, spun around, and pulled into a deep, passionate kiss by the Man of Steel, Imposter Bruce was caught off guard.
In less than three seconds, he’d shoved Clark off of him, only to stand there paralyzed with shock.
Finally, Imposter Bruce sputtered out, “Superman is gay? For Batman?”
Clark, the poor dear, looked so terribly confused. “Uhhhh, I’m Bi? You know this? We’ve been dating for a year—wait, do you have amnesia again? They’re supposed to notify me if you get head trauma, even if I’m off-world!”
Whatever lie Imposter Bruce would have cooked up, they’d never find out, because at that moment, real Bruce was able to take advantage of his momentary lack of focus and push against its presence. The ghost hadn’t been expecting more pushback from him, so by the time it realized what was happening, Bruce was able to expel the spirit and firmly regain control of his own body while sending the ghost flying through the air to the ground.
And really, poor Clark, because now there were two of him; one regular Bruce, suddenly looking furious, and one semi-translucent ghostly Batman, emitting a green glow that reminded him of the color of kryptonite.
“What—who—Bruce?”
Bruce didn’t have time to explain; the ghost Batman was already glaring up at him with an ugly sneer, no doubt preparing to possess him again. “Hit him with your eyes, I don’t think I can fight him off physically!” He said.
Clark only blinked at him once before turning his heated glare onto the ghost. Unfortunately the beams went right through ghost Batman, who just chuckled darkly as the floor of the bat cave gained another scorch mark Alfred would grumble about later.
“You can’t touch me, I’m a ghost. But I certainly can touch you!” Ghost Batman did launch himself up again, but instead of going back into Bruce as he’d anticipated, he disappeared into Clark’s body. When Superman’s face that usually shone with hope and light twisted up into a sinister smirk, something in Bruce’s heart twisted up as well.
“Get out of my boyfriend,” he snarled as he instinctively fell back into a defensive stance.
“Or what?” Ghost Bruce chuckled, his influence turning Clark’s hearty baritone into something darker and more sinister. “Going to punch me? Shoot me? Hit me with a batarang? None of that is going to work on me. Not while I’m inhabiting this lovely, invulnerable alien skin. I suppose you could whip out the kryptonite and convince me to jump ship, but then what? Millions of dollars worth of tech in the batcave, and not one actual ghost fighting tool! You’ve left yourself laughably vulnerable, Bruce.”
“I was previously unaware such tools were necessary,” Bruce said through gritted teeth, because yes, he’d been berating himself for that oversight since the beginning of his possession, but that didn’t mean he wanted it pointed out to his face by his evil double. “I’ll be sure to rectify that at the soonest opportunity. Now I’ll say this one more time—get out of my boyfriend, or else.”
He was already scripting apologies to Clark for dosing him with Kryptonite once the ghost was driven out when something even more outlandish and unanticipated happened—A portal of blue light appeared in the air behind the Superman-slash-Evil-Batman combo, and out popped Damian and Tim, in full Robin and Red Robin gear. The former was wielding a glowing green sword, while the latter was brandishing what appeared to be a… high-tech soup thermos?
The evil Batman only had time to spin around and face his attackers before Damian had raised the green sword and swiftly slashed it across Clark’s chest. Despite knowing that his boyfriend’s alien body wouldn’t be damaged, he instinctively bristled at the image of his youngest attacking his lover. Of course the blow did nothing to Clark, who stood still as a statue to absorb the force, but what it did do was expel the Evil Batman ghost from his body, who went sailing through the air and skidding across the floor once more.
Before the ghost could rally, Tim sprung into action. “Ha! Gotcha now, Ghost Bat!!” he shouted as he pressed a button on the side of his thermos while pointing it at the ghost. A beam of blue light shot out of the top and enveloped Evil Batman, who screamed as he lifted one arm as if to shield his eyes from the glare, before winking out of existence as Tim closed the lid.
A tense silence hung in the air for just a few seconds as Clark stared at Bruce and Bruce stared at his sons. Damian’s expression was neutral and gave nothing away; Tim, however, was looking at Bruce with an uneasy grimace that reeked of guilt.
Bruce narrowed his eyes a fraction of an inch. “What did you do?”
Tim cleared his throat as he slung the carrying strap of the thermos over his shoulder before saying, “Nothing!” His tone was too high, pointing to a lack of truth to that statement.
“Nothing yet,” Damian sneered as he glanced at the clock display on the computer. “We don’t have time to explain, Father. We were given exactly two minutes back here to capture the rogue ghost, and it’s almost up. You’ll all figure this out on your own, anyway. Drake, come .” Damian gave Bruce one last look before turning and stepping back into the portal they’d emerged from.
“M’not a fucking dog,” Tim grumbled, but he did turn back towards the portal. Before following Damian, he looked back over his shoulder and chuckled awkwardly. “I think you’re definitely going to laugh about this one day.”
“Will I, now?” Bruce said, his voice flat.
Tim grimaced again before he stepped into the portal, and just as quickly as it had appeared, the portal vanished.
“Well.” Clark said after a beat. “That was an unusual ‘welcome back’. You were…”
“Possessed,” Bruce confirmed, stepping next to Clark and pressing a quick but firm kiss to his lips. “Sorry about that. Thanks for throwing him off, by the way.”
“Right. Was that really a ghost of… Batman?”
Bruce pursed his lips, his mind turning over all the new information he had come across in the past few minutes. “He certainly looked like Batman, or at least someone who died wearing my costume—assuming ghosts don’t change what they wear after they die, which is something we should research. He also… felt familiar, and up until he didn’t know you were my boyfriend, I just assumed he was some iteration of me. Now, I’m not quite sure what to think.”
“Hm.” Clark tilted his head and peered at the space where the portal had opened. “At least Damian said you’ll figure this out eventually.”
That sentiment failed to ease Bruce’s worries. He turned his gaze towards the stairs, which led up to the manor where Damian and Tim should both be getting ready to start their days. “That’s another thing to worry about—what on earth are my children going to get up to that will result in that? Don’t tell me you missed the expression on Tim’s face.”
“So you think they were messing with time travel?” Clark asked, and when Bruce gave him a questioning look, he clarified. “You said ‘going to get up to’. Like you think the Tim and Damian who are upstairs at this very moment will one day become the versions of themselves that just appeared to capture this ‘Ghost Bat’ character. That implies time travel, not visitors from an alternate dimension.”
“Right,” Bruce nodded. “It was what Damian said; they had been given two minutes ‘back here’, which implies they came from an ‘up there’ that would follow from our current timeline. And I don’t think an alternate universe Tim could have looked so specifically guilty about the situation.”
Clark sighed. “Yes, that part is concerning. What will Tim do that results in an evil ghost Batman being sent back in time to possess you?”
“Whatever it is, I don’t intend to simply sit still and wait for it to happen,” Bruce said as he stepped over to the Batcomputer and typed in his password. “And it’s not like we have nowhere to start; Ghost Bat was working on some sort of research project while he was inhabiting my body.”
He pulled up the file the imposter had been compiling and stepped aside so Clark could get a look. Clark frowned and leaned over the desk, his eyes darting swiftly over the screen as he clicked through the documents. “Newspaper articles?” he murmured, his expression growing thoughtful. When he was done, he straightened up and looked back at Bruce. “What does Ghost Bat want in Amity Park, of all places?”
“I intend to find out.”
Breakfast in the manor had started pleasantly enough. Tim was the first to rise, followed by Dick, who had to get back to Bludhaven early, so he simply grabbed a piece of toast and ruffled Tim’s hair on his way out the door as his way of saying goodbye. Damian slunk downstairs next, his hair damp from a shower and his school uniform still missing its tie and jacket. He shot Tim his usual disdainful look, but he mumbled something that may have been a greeting as he started dishing up his plate, so Tim counted it as a positive. When Damian stayed quiet, he decided he was probably able to peacefully double check some spreadsheets on his phone to prepare for his meetings over at Wayne Enterprises later that day.
It was good he double checked because he spotted an error in one of the columns. As he was fixing it, he realized some of the information in his presentation notes would have to be updated, so he pulled up his work calendar to check when exactly he needed to get this done. Just as he opened his work day, however, all of the scheduled meetings suddenly vanished.
Tim blinked. He reached out, grasped his mugs, raised it to his lips and took a huge gulp of coffee. Then he clicked to refresh the calendar, hoping that whatever blip in reality that had just fucked with his meetings would have the decency to right itself. It did not , but a new item popped up on his schedule, set to span the next forty eight hours: OUT OF OFFICE—VACATION.
“What the fuck!”
“Swear jar,” Damian muttered without looking up from his own phone.
“You didn’t just hack my work calendar and mess with my schedule, did you?” He asked as he ran through the list of possible culprits. Besides him, only his assistant and Bruce had real access, but any one of his siblings might have abused their talents to try to mess with him. He was currently ruling out foul play, since trying to cancel his meetings and send him on vacation seemed more like a stupid prank than an act of villainy.
Damian did look at him then, and he did not look impressed. “I have far better uses for my time than an inane prank, Drake.”
It didn’t seem like Damian’s style anyway. “Dick should be driving right now and Cass should be asleep in Hong Kong; must’ve been Jason.”
“It was me,” Bruce announced as he strode into the dining room with a tired-looking Clark Kent on his heels. “You and I have something to investigate.”
“Wha—I’ve been preparing for the board presentation for weeks!” Tim sputtered as he tried to make sense of this betrayal. “I’m not going on a last minute vacation!”
“This is not going to be a vacation,” Bruce said, and Tim was brought up short by the accusation in his tone. “I need to look into something, and I also need to keep an eye on you to figure out how you’re responsible for Ghost Bat, so you have to come with me.”
“Who’s Ghost Bat?” Damian asked, looking just a bit too pleased that Tim was randomly in the hot seat. “Did Drake create a villain?”
“I did not!” Tim said indignantly, because surely he hadn’t , but then he looked back over at Bruce and Clark and was thrown off by the odd look they were exchanging. “Uh. Did I?”
“We’re reasonably sure you haven’t done anything yet,” Clark finally said, giving him a pitying smile. “So it’s probably not fair to be accusing you of anything. But it was all very odd, and uh… B, just show them, I’m not sure how to explain this.”
Bruce pressed his lips into a thin line as stepped over to Tim and offered him a tablet showing security footage from the cave. Damian leaned in to watch as well, and Tim pressed play.
The time stamp indicated it was from about twenty five minutes ago; Bruce was doing something on the computers when Clark entered, still in the Superman suit.
When Clark pulled Bruce into a passionate hold, Damian made a small noise of discomfort in the back of his throat. “Why must we watch footage of the two of you kiss—”
“What’s happening to you, B?” Tim interrupted, because the onscreen Bruce had just pushed away his boyfriend and was looking… confused? Then, his whole body started to glow an odd greenish hue. And then, all of the sudden, Batman flew out of Bruce’s body. But this Batman wasn’t right, he was glowing green, and semi-translucent, and…
“Ghost Bat?” Tim asked.
“That’s what you called him.” Bruce said. Tim looked up at him with a furrowed brow, but Bruce shook his head. “Just keep watching.”
Tim frowned and turned back to the tablet, watched as Ghost Bat slipped into Clark, as he confronted Bruce, and then as a blue hole of light popped into existence. His mouth fell open as he and Damian appeared in the cave wearing their super suits, and his confusion only mounted as the pair of them used gear that he’d never seen before to handily expel Ghost Bat from Clark, capture him, and then disappear back from where they came.
The footage came to an end and Tim set the tablet down on the table. Then he grabbed his half-finished mug of coffee and drained the rest of it in three large gulps. Hopefully Alfred had another pot ready, because he was definitely going to need it to begin to process what he has just seen.
“So Drake is going to kill you?” Damian asked with a sharp edge to his voice, and Tim slammed his coffee mug down onto the table so he could glare. He would never!
Bruce shrugged, his expression inscrutable. “We’re not sure that Ghost Bat is me , exactly. He didn’t seem to know that Clark is attracted to men, let alone that we are dating. But it’s possible becoming a ghost causes memory loss, and based on things that Robin and Red Robin said when they arrived to grab him, they seemed to be versions of you from a future point in this timeline, which leads me to the conclusion that you two are going to ignore the rules about messing with time travel and somehow cause this… mess.”
“But we also came and fixed it,” Tim pointed out. “Probably. So it looks like there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry— here,” Bruce said, grabbing the tablet and pulling up another bit of footage before shoving it back at Tim. It was from early yesterday morning, after they’d come off patrol; Bruce had stayed by the batmobile to inspect some slight damage it had sustained while Tim and Damian had gone on ahead to clean up and get to bed. Tim watched carefully, and about thirty seconds in, Bruce’s body gave a little jolt, like he’d just received a minor electric shock, before he straightened up and sauntered off screen.
“What was that?”
“I was possessed. Since yesterday, I’ve been controlled by Ghost Bat, and not one of you noticed. I can’t even begin to imagine the amount of damage an evil ghost in my body could have caused—or an evil ghost in Superman’s body! We need to get ahead of this thing before it can happen again.”
“It is fortuitous then that I shall arrive to resolve the situation before things can turn disastrous,” Damian said, and Bruce finally turned his disapproving look onto him.
“It’s true that the future Tim looked more emotionally affected by the situation than the future Damian, but I’m not ruling out the possibility that you also will have a hand in whatever situation is going to arise,” he said sternly. “I know you can have an excellent poker face. The only reason you’re not coming with me as well is that I can make other people do Tim’s work at Wayne Enterprises for him, but I can’t make anyone else go to school and take your Biology test for you. If this case is not solved by Friday evening, you will be joining us.”
Damian looked slightly chastised by that, and refrained from saying anything further. Tim pursed his lips. “And where exactly will we be going? Did Ghost Bat leave any clues?”
“He was conducting some extensive research into the recent history of a city in Illinois called Amity Park.”
“Do we know why?”
Bruce shook his head. “Not yet. He didn’t leave many of his own notes, but I’ll show you what we’ve got in the plane.”
Tim nodded. Then he moved on to the next question. “In the video where you’re possessed, we can’t see Ghost Bat, but in the one from this morning, we could; did you see him before you were possessed, or does he have the ability to be invisible?”
“Invisible,” Bruce confirmed. “Clark couldn’t pick up anything on the earlier footage with his enhanced vision either, but we’re not sure if that’s because the cameras couldn’t record the information, or if he wouldn’t be able to see an invisible ghost in person either.”
Tim frowned. There were too many question marks, not enough facts to provide answers. “I hate fighting enemies we can’t see.”
“As do I,” Bruce said, and the harsh lines in his face finally softened a bit as he finally took a seat at the table and started to gather breakfast on his own plate. “But we’re going to figure it out anyway. Besides, we’ve already noted one potential lead in Amity Park, and even if it doesn’t directly lead us to the origins of Ghost Bat and your time travel shenanigans, we might at least be better prepared for any future ghost encounters.”
“What did you find?”
“Amity Park appears to be home to some self-proclaimed professional ghost hunters. You and I will be meeting with them in their home at three thirty this afternoon, to ask about buying some of their technology. Hopefully that leads us on the path to stopping the rise of Ghost Bat.”