Going Ghost! (Young Justice)

Chapter 190 190: The Console of Death

[Third Person Pov]

"Their thanks is unwarranted, I haven't personally lost anything important to consider worthy of a sacrifice," Danny replied to Death's words as he remained floating upright, his posture steady and his expression unchanged, as if the weight of what he had just done meant very little to him.

"Are we really going to play that game now?" Death asked with a resigned breath as she studied him closely, her gaze lingering on his face as if searching for something that used to be there but was now buried too deep to reach. "Danny, I'm going to give you advice that you probably didn't ask for, but I feel like I should give you anyways," she continued sincerely.

She couldn't help the soft spot she had for him, especially since he embodied everything she represented when it came to the balance between life and death, and seeing him like this left her uneasy in a way she rarely allowed herself to feel.

"You may think not feeling anything is a good thing, that it makes things easier, cleaner, simpler," Death went on, her tone calm but firm as she drifted a little closer to him. "But those emotions you feel, the good and the bad, they're what make you alive. They're what make you human. They're what allow you to care, to connect, to understand the people you're trying to protect in the first place. Freezing your heart over to these emotions doesn't make you stronger, Danny, it just makes you distant. It makes everything you do hollow, even if the outcome is the same."

She folded her arms, her expression tightening slightly as she continued, clearly choosing her words with care. "Pain, loss, fear, even anger, they're not weaknesses. They're signals. They tell you what matters to you, what you're afraid to lose, what you're willing to fight for. When you shut all of that out, you're not protecting yourself, you're erasing parts of who you are. And the more you do that, the harder it becomes to find your way back."

Death paused for a moment, letting her words settle before continuing in a quieter, more personal tone. "I've seen what happens to people who try to become unfeeling. They think it'll keep them from breaking, but all it really does is leave them empty. They stop recognizing themselves, and eventually, they stop caring about anything at all. That's not strength, Danny. That's just another kind of loss, one that's a lot harder to recover from."

Her eyes softened as she looked at him again, a hint of concern slipping through despite her composed demeanor. "You don't have to carry everything alone, and you don't have to shut yourself off to survive. The fact that you feel, that you struggle, that you care as much as you do, that's exactly why you're able to do what you do. It's what makes you you."

There was a brief silence after she finished, the space between them filled only by the quiet stillness of the moment.

Danny didn't react immediately. His expression remained calm, almost indifferent, as if he had listened to every word without letting any of it truly settle in. After a second, he gave a small, almost absent nod.

"I'll take your words into consideration," he replied coolly, his tone even and detached.

Death let out a soft sigh, not surprised in the slightest by his response. She shook her head faintly, though there was no real frustration in the gesture, only a quiet acceptance.

"I figured you'd say that," she murmured before her expression softened once more. "Still… I believe you're strong enough to get through whatever this is, Danny. Strong enough to face it without losing yourself in the process."

She held his gaze for a moment longer, as if hoping that somewhere beneath that calm exterior, her words had managed to reach him.

She chose not to say anything more on the matter, not because she didn't care or because she lacked the ability to interfere if she truly wanted to. It was because she understood something simple and unchangeable, something she had seen play out countless times before: you cannot help someone who does not want to help themselves. No matter how much you reach, no matter how much you try to guide them, it would never take root if they refused it.

She had already accepted that she wasn't the one meant to pull Danny out of his shell. She wasn't the one who would thaw the cold distance he had wrapped around himself like armor. That role belonged to someone else, someone who could reach him in a way she couldn't.

So she let it be. There was no frustration in it, no bitterness, just quiet understanding. All she could do was step back and believe in him, even if he gave her little reason to.

She shook her head as if brushing those thoughts aside and flicked her top hat back into place with a small, practiced motion. "Anyways, don't think I only called you over to lecture you and warn you. I already delivered their message of those that passed on, but I really wanted to personally thank you for your work on this mission. Suicide really is my least favorite form of death. Watching someone lose sight of what it means to be alive is… disheartening. It belongs more to Despair's domain than mine, and even then, it never gets easier to witness."

"I'm glad I was able to be of help," Danny said, bowing politely, his tone even and measured as always.

Death's lips curled into a lopsided smile, one that carried both amusement and a quiet kind of sadness. "Oh, I wish I could believe you, but we both know that isn't the case. You're just being courteous."

"True," Danny replied with a small shrug, not even attempting to deny it. There was no defensiveness in his voice, no embarrassment, just a blunt acceptance of the truth.

Death leaned forward slightly and reached out, patting his head once more, her touch light but deliberate. "I will continue to keep a close eye on you, Daniel. Just know I will be rooting for you." She gave him a quick wink, something playful to soften the weight of her words, and then she was gone.

One blink, and she had vanished as if she had never been there at all, like a thought that slipped away the moment you tried to focus on it.

Danny lifted a hand to his hair, feeling the slight mess she had left behind, the only real evidence that she had been there. He fixed it without much thought, smoothing it back into place before turning around to continue on his way.

He paused, though, his gaze lingering on the ledge of the building for just a moment longer than necessary. It wasn't hesitation exactly, but something close to it, something quieter and harder to define.

Then he pushed off, taking to the air with a burst of speed that carried the force of a rocket, leaving the moment behind without looking back.

…

By the time Robin and the others arrived, Danny was already there, waiting. He leaned against his motorcycle with his eyes closed and his arms crossed, his helmet hanging loosely from the handlebar. He looked as still as a statue, like he hadn't moved in minutes.

"If you're ready to leave, then let's go. Our work is done here," Danny said as he straightened and climbed onto his motorcycle, placing the helmet over his head with practiced ease.

"Leaving already? We haven't even thanked you properly—" Dinah began, but Danny cut her off before she could finish.

"There is no need. It is our job. It's what you called us for," Danny said, his voice calm and final as he turned the bike on. The engine rumbled to life beneath him. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I would like to make it to Gotham early so I can get some proper rest."

He didn't give them a chance to respond. The moment the words left his mouth, he took off. He didn't wait for the gates to open either; he simply phased straight through them, the metal instantly frosting over and turning to ice in his wake.

Robin let out a loud, annoyed groan as he watched him go. "You coming with?" he asked, glancing over at Kid Flash.

Wally crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head without hesitation. "And be in the same town as Casper the cold-blooded ghost over there? No thanks. Call me when he's chilled out again. Pun intended."

Robin clicked his tongue in irritation and swung himself onto his own bike. After giving a quick, proper farewell to the Green Arrow team, he revved the engine and took off, blasting the door open with a birdarang as he went.

"Just know I'm sending Batman the bill for all of this!" Oliver shouted after them, shaking his fist as he stood in what was now a very open front section of his hideout, the missing door leaving it exposed to the outside world.

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