Chapter Text
[Friday, September 5th 2019, Gotham - Danny’s Apartment]
“-Mr Nightingale I'm calling to see if you’ll be available for a temporary teaching position at Gotham Academy with the possibility of permanency”
Danny almost choked on his coffee mid sip. He had been waiting for a call since May, and had already given up hope at getting any position as a teacher anywhere. He knew he wouldn’t be the first choice, only three years of job experience, no teaching experience at all, not a Gothamite… but he still held on to the chance that some one could settle with the seventh or eighth choice.
He was already looking at possible employers he could go to. It shouldn’t have been as hard as it was, he already had a few job offers lined up but none that really enthused him as much as his previous one, such a shame he had to go.
The teaching thing was one of the few things he actually found kind of interesting outside the few engineering gigs he did, and from what the guys at the community center said he actually had a knack for it.
The fact that Gotham Academy called him for the position, even if it wasn’t permanent, was amazing.
“r-really?” Danny said after a moment of silence. “If you don’t mind me asking why are you calling now? Surely it's too late to really hire anyone?” the woman on the other side heaved a sigh “Well, one of our science teachers was trapped in a fear gas attack" Danny will never get used to the way rogue attacks were normal in Gotham. “oh, is she alright? How much time will you need me to substit-?” the woman chuckled and interrupted him “oh she is quite alright, we found her trying to recreate the toxin in the school lab from a sample she was able to acquire, really if you’re going to do crime don’t do it at a school for fuck’s sake” he clearly wasn’t meant to hear that last part as she quickly changed the subject.
The call continued with him asking some questions and the woman (he really should get her name) answering to the best of her abilities without asking the principal for the specifics.
When is he expected to be there?
Tomorrow at 10 AM to meet the principal and get the specifics of the job.
What grade is he expected to teach?
Probably 9th to 12th grade, as those were the classes assigned to the previous teacher.
Why him?
He heard the sound of paper shuffling on the other side as she began “you voluntarily left your very comfortable position at a very big engineering for a teaching position, you’ve been seen teaching the children at one of the community centers in crime alley and they thanked you for it.” The reply came so swiftly it startled him,
“wait how did you-“
“People talk, Mr Nightingale, a man applying for so many teaching positions in Gotham, doesn't go unnoticed. Either you are a pedophile or you think teaching is worthwhile. And frankly, we need more of the latter.” Her tone was sardonic but not completely unkind.
“Even if you don’t have any teaching experience you do know the information we need you to pass on to our students, everything else you can learn, we are a teaching institution afterall.”
He… didn’t really know what to say to that. Luckily he didn’t have to. “Well it was nice talking to you Mr Nightingale, I will see you soon” she said.
“You too Ms…”
“Rust, Good evening sir.”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
[Thursday, August 31st 2025, Paris - Nightingale residence]
Morning came like any other, loud, obnoxious and overall unwelcome in Danny’s opinion.
The alarm blared across the room and Danny debated whether to stay in bed all day or stop the incessant sound.
He ended up getting up to stop the awful sound across the room from waking the other inhabitants of the house (A chill went up his spine at the thought of his mère waking up before ten).
Having learned from experience that it would be useless going back to sleep he decided to make his way over to the kitchen for some breakfast.
He checked his phone for any missed calls he slept through before going. Not today either, he really should stop hoping that the call will come one of these days, Tom told him he’d call him but only when she was ready. He just hopes he’s ready too when the time comes.
The hallway that led into the rooms was filled with old photos of his moms and himself. Every step he took moved him farther and farther along into the past and he couldn’t help but think about the time the hallway looked emptier and his gaze was a mirror-like image of the barrenness. The pictures were proof that he had grown past that, that he was alive
(sometimes that wasn’t as much comfort as it used to be).
There were also photos from before he arrived that made him want to think of the times before Paris that no longer existed. They couldn’t exist.
The door to the kitchen was wide open and the heavy scent of spices enveloped him as he stepped into view of the room. Camille was cooking breakfast, that hadn’t changed since he moved, she swayed to the music only she could hear and stirred a pot every once in a while. Whether anything edible would come out of that was a 50/50 chance but she seemed happy.
Retired life had treated her well, laugh lines and other wrinkles had blossomed in her face and her dark skin glowed in the orange light of the morning.
He started leaning left, afraid to interrupt the moment for his maman. He didn’t notice the very creaky door next to him as he put his weight on it and stumbled forward to avoid falling, startling the other occupant of the room.
Their eyes met and one, two, three seconds of silence passed until the rambunctious laughter of the older woman filled it, sharing the merriment with her son and shattering the tension.
“Were you going to stand there all day?” she asked, humor lacing her voice as she passed him a cup. Danny’s glare didn’t hold much heat as he made his way towards the coffee maker. He scoffed “No, I was only going to wait until Andrea woke up” a chuckle escaped her “That long?”.
Finally seated he poured the milk into his coffee and took the miraculous first sip of the morning before taking two of the pills out of the orange bottle on the table and washing them away with another sip. Camille plated up whatever she had cooked and placed a plate of something with toast in front of him.
At least it wasn’t burned.
She sat in the seat next to him like it was second nature and started eating her omelette? “Danny, you have to try this, I think i surpassed myself” she said excitedly, like always.
Camille couldn't be trusted in terms of food taste. The taste was indescribable, flavours mixed and matched in ways that he couldn’t understand how someone could come up with them and still eat them. He wouldn't even try to decipher what its texture was.
“Yea, It is really good! But you know I was just thinking I’m really craving… One of those muffins Sabine gave to me a few days ago!” He told her with a placating smile.
“Oh no young man, you are way too thin, that won't even fill you. Eat your breakfast” she told him, as if he hadn’t been living on his own for the past almost 20 years.
”Come on maman, it’s not like I need to eat as much anyways” That apparently was not the right thing to say “Are you not eating? I knew Going to gotham was a bad idea, do you have enough money, do they treat you well at-“
Just then a faint sound interrupted the one-sided argument.
Camille didn’t seem to hear it, but Danny had been waiting for that sound.
Danny hurried over to his room, already hearing the annoyed grumbles coming from the only individual left sleeping in the apartment.
He vaulted over the table and dodged his maman’s attempts to get him to stay and eat that vile thing.
He reached his room, shoving the door closed.
There, on the nightstand in front of him his phone shook from the buzzing of the call and the name on the contact gave him just a tad bit of hope.
He reached for it but hesitated, just like all the other times that that name showed up on his screen.
What if they’re not gone, he could put them in dangerdangerdangerDangerDANGER-
STOP!
Danny took a deep breath, they were gone, he made sure of that, the distance worked, it protected his family. He knows there is no danger of them hunting him anymore, but after years of not contacting them for their safety some things are difficult to unlearn.
He gathered his courage and unlike any of the times before he wouldn’t give up.
He answered.
“Hello?”