[Third Person Pov]
"Hahaha— I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Danny wheezed, laughter wobbling in and out of hysteria. "I'm just in so much pain I think I'm honestly going delirious~" His voice cracked as another breathless laugh escaped. "I have to make myself laugh or I'll start bawling like a baby, and trust me—nobody wants to see that."
Superman's stern glare of disapproval twitched, the façade cracking for a heartbeat. Without a word he activated his X-ray vision. What he saw made his eyes snap wider, his breath catching mid-air. Danny's entire skeleton looked like a battlefield: multiple bones fractured or outright broken, shoulder blades cracked like split stone, ribs crooked and misaligned—some prying dangerously into organs. Even his skull wasn't spared, faint fractures tracing spiderwebs across bone. His knuckles were a mess of hairline breaks.
And that was just the structural damage.
The rest of Danny's body was faring even worse. Internal bleeding pulsed through him in dark, alarming patches. Several organs were bruised, a few clearly punctured by bone fragments. Tiny holes riddled his torso where broken ribs had pierced through earlier. His skin was painted in bruises of every color, overlaid with lacerations and scorched marks that told stories of burns and blunt force trauma.
Superman didn't know whether to be impressed that Danny was still conscious—or utterly horrified at how close the kid was to collapsing.
Lois, meanwhile, rolled up a sleeve with all the fury of a mother about to scold a very stupid teenager. She stomped forward, irritation practically vibrating off her. "I'll show you delirious, you brat! How could you think pulling a prank like that is remotely funny—"
Before she could reach him, Superman caught her wrist gently and pushed himself upright. Lois blinked at him, confused by the grim look flashing across his features.
"He's not kidding…" Superman murmured, eyes still slightly widened. "His condition—Lois, he needs immediate medical attention."
Lois' brows pinched, her anger dissolving into startled concern. She looked from Superman to the trembling boy on the ground. "Is he going to be okay…?" she asked softly. Even if Danny's prank was cruel, she wasn't heartless—there was still a kid in agony right in front of her.
Danny, however, just kept laughing through breaths that sounded more like pained hiccups. "Don't worry about me, I'm A-Okay!! I heal fast~ But let me tell you— the human mind is not built for this level of pain!" His laughter strained into a choked noise.
"Danny," Superman said, stepping closer, "let's take you to get proper treatment—"
But Danny abruptly rolled onto his stomach, pushed himself to his knees, and shot one hand out toward him like a stop sign. "No need, Mister! It's not like there's a ghost doctor out there." He snorted. "Hahaha, imagine how funny that would be."
He lifted two broken fingers to his ear, miming a phone call. "Hello? Yes, doctor? We've got an injured ghost here who needs medical attention—"
He paused, then laughed deliriously. "Hahaha! Man, they'd hang up so fast the dial tone would slap you."
Superman and Lois exchanged another look—this one far more alarmed than the last.
"Really, really, don't worry, I got this," Danny said, curling in on himself. "One of the perks of being a ghost…" His hand began to turn translucent, phasing through its solid form. "You can treat yourself personally. Watch this."
Then, without hesitation, he plunged his intangible hand straight into his own chest.
CRACK!
Danny let out a strangled whimper. "Butter biscuits…"
Lois slapped both hands over her mouth. "Is— is he realigning his bones inside his own body?"
CRACK!
"Ah!! Sugar honey ice tea!!" Danny yelped, rolling onto his side, his hand still elbow-deep in his torso.
CRACK!
"Sweet Baby Corn…" he whimpered, lightly pounding his fist against the floor like a child trying not to cry.
CRACK!
"Boston Cream Donuts!"
CRACK!
"Straw—*hic*—berry *hic* Shortcake!"
By now Danny was curled fully on the ground, forehead pressed against the floor. His whole body trembled as he quietly sobbed through each breath.
"What sins… what sins did I commit in a past life to deserve this punishment…" he whimpered, voice shaking, tears dripping onto the floor as he clutched his ribs from the inside.
"Danny…?" Superman called carefully, stepping closer and lowering himself into a crouch so he could meet the boy's eye level.
"I'm A-Okay!!" Danny blurted out, instantly springing upright like a faulty jack-in-the-box. "I've been through much worse, trust me. There was this one time my entire arm was almost cut off. No, literally—hanging by a single thread of skin and meat. Man, that was an adventure to remember."
Lois stared at him, her expression quietly horrified. 'Just what kind of nightmares did this kid go through that "almost losing an arm" is a casual anecdote?' she wondered. 'No wonder he jokes like this. It's starting to make a disturbing amount of sense.'
"Now then…" Danny continued cheerfully, as if he hadn't just described a trauma-inducing injury. He reached into his side and floated over to Lois with a pen and notepad. "Can I please get your autograph? Big fan."
"Huh?" Lois blinked, overwhelmed. Everything was happening too quickly for her brain to catch up.
"Blergh—" A thick splash of blood poured out of Danny's mouth, painting his chin and chest a brutal green. He didn't even flinch. Didn't even blink. He simply wiped the corner of his lip sloppily with the back of his hand and held up the pen and notepad again. "Pretty please?" he asked with a bright, slightly unhinged smile.
"You… want my autograph?" Lois pointed at herself, baffled. Danny nodded vigorously.
"Uh… sure." Lois glanced toward Superman for reassurance—he offered a tiny nod—and she took the notepad to sign. Danny accepted it with a polite bow.
"Thank you kindly," he said warmly as he tucked everything back into his utility belt like this was the most normal interaction of the day.
"Alright, come on Danny," Superman said, gently guiding him away. "Let's get you back to your place to rest."
"Okay, fine," Danny relented, much to Superman's relief. "Only because I am dead tired after all… Heh. See what I did there?"
Superman chuckled despite himself as he hefted Metallo and the containment cube. "Yes, Danny. I see what you did there…"
He looked over to Lois. "I'll be back shortly." She nodded, still processing… basically everything.
…
Back at the hotel—once Superman finally left—the first thing Danny did was drop his transformation with a flash of ecto-light and step into the shower.
He stood beneath the stream for a long while, letting the water run over his battered body. His hair slicked back, shoulders slumped, breath slow and uneven. With every droplet that struck him, streaks of red and sickly green swirled at his feet, swirling together before spiraling down the drain.
All the jokes, the fake bravado, the frantic laughter—gone.
He was just tired. Bone-deep, soul-deep tired.
His posture sagged with exhaustion as he leaned a hand against the wall. His eyes, once bright with manic humor, now looked hollow—haunted by the lingering ache of injuries and the weight of the fight he'd barely walked away from.
After washing as much pain and grime away as he could, Danny stepped out, dried himself off, and dressed in his usual comfortable clothes. He sat on the edge of the bed, a towel draped over his still-damp hair as he finished rubbing it dry. With a lazy gesture, he summoned his phone into his hand with a telekinetic tug.
He stared at the screen for a long moment.
Missed calls. Messages. Worry.
Danny inhaled deeply, bracing himself, then tapped the screen.
The phone rang once… twice…
Then—
"Hmm," Sam's voice came through, unimpressed yet unmistakably relieved. "Look who finally decided to grace us with his voice."
Danny let out a soft laugh, one far gentler than the ones he'd forced earlier. A real one.
"Okay yeah," he admitted with a tired smile, staring down at his phone, "maybe I deserved that."
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