AN: Hey and welcome, this is my first story here so please don't add flames in the reviews! I'm open for critic but only via PM. Please also know English is not my first language therefore if you find a spelling mistake or some grammar/time errors let me know (per PM please) and will look into it.

Rated M because of character death and because I'm not sure and to be save.

This is a Justice League/Young Justice crossover

Disclaimer:

I don't own Danny Phantom or Justice League/Young Justice or any other characters you might recognize.

Darkness engulfed the black figure as it was hiding between the steel framed ceilings of the old rundown warehouse. On a normal day or night, this place would be called abandoned. Tonight however the open area beneath the man in dark clothes was buzzing of life and it wasn't that of simple pigeons.

All criminals that currently roamed freely in Gotham and other major cities from the area had gathered here, for one occasion: an auction.

A very unusual auction, as there was only item for sale, the object a legend in the criminal underworld. When it had first been discovered and transported into Star Labs, one of the many experiments had activated some security mechanism inside it and had overloaded the facilities own systems and leveled the complete building. The object was later recovered unharmed and fortunate nobody had been killed by this accident.

Since then people had hypothesis that it was a weapon. Others said it could be an unlimited source of energy. In general it was something that had caught the attention from many people, most of whom currently gathered in this warehouse, including the man with the dark mask.

The auctioneer, a man in a sleek black suit with short black hair, stepped up on a podium on one side of the room, tapping twice on the installed microphone, efficiently stopping all talking in the room between the different criminals and their entourage.

"Welcome," he cleared his throat and spoke again, "Welcome everyone. I'm glad we could manage to meet tonight. Thanks to Riddler, Batman" Some boo call's echoed in the background, "Is currently occupied chasing some clues through the city and we don't have to worry about an unpleasant interruption."

Riddler took a theatrical bow as a few villains clapped for him. "Thank you! Thank you, all." The man on the podium smirked, got out a small wood hammer from his pocket and hit it down on a wooden plate, reclaiming the attention to his person. "Each of you has received the basic information to the object and I'm sure everyone has his or her own idea what it could be used for." He stated.

"Show it!"

"Yeah we want to see it!" was shouted out of the crowd.

"I'm coming to that." Snapped the auctioneer and send a death glare to the two speakers. After order was restored, he turned half way to the side and demanded, "Vicky, the object please."

A blonde woman in a very short red dress entered the stage from the side, pushing a high table with rolls in front of her. The top was covert with a black cloth, hiding the "Object" unknown in size or form. The well curved woman moved lascivious to the middle of the podium, swinging her hips and stopped next to the man. The tension in the room rose to an almost tangible level.

"May I present," He made another dramatic pause, raising the level up another nudge and then with one swift motion, pulled the black cloth off. Underneath was a thermos, a soup thermos, out of white metal with some strange green glowing wiring on the side and two buttons, a watchful eye could see on one side a neon green oval with a big F on it.

Rumors spread again, people whispered to each other until the auctioneer had enough and used the hammer again.

One man, dressed in a silver metallic armor, white skin and ice blue eyes stepped forward, Mr. Freeze: "How do we know that this is the original object and not a copy?" The auctioneer made a face to the cold-hearted villain. "1st I would never misuse the trust my fellow villains have put in me and 2nd Vicky please show them."

The woman appeared again, she picked up the shiny thermos turned it around and showed the side, previous hidden as it had been turned to the back, a digital scale was revealed. The people close enough had no problem to see that the scale was on his max level. Whatever the item contained it was definitive powerful.

The man on the rafters however, had to use a pair of black binoculars, courtesy from his utility belt. Batman was wondering, his intel report about the auction and his own research had not been flourishing, he still had no information about what exactly was stored in this containment unit. Only three things were certain 1st the energy which the object contained was unknown and therefore – most likely – dangerous. 2nd the item had been found under strange circumstances in the middle of nowhere in unknown debris that had no point of origin and 3rd he could not allow this thing to fall into the wrong hands. Sadly that included clearly everyone in this warehouse.

The auctioneer smiled his eyes glowing from excitement and greed "Let's start with the bidding. Yeah, do I get an offer?"

"1 Million" Scarecrow was the first.

"2 Million." jumped Harvey Dent, alias Two Face, in next.

After that it was "5" and then "10" came from Joker.

The "15" was Mr. Freeze.

Batman tuned out and watched the crowd bidding a few of the lesser resourceful criminals and their companions had already stepped back. They stayed mostly out of curiosity, maybe harboring plans to steal the object from the buyer.

"100," this offer silenced even the last one in the warehouse, the man stating the offer was Deathstroke, or Slade, as he called himself now.

"Now that's what I call an offer." Called the man on the podium hitting the hammer down, turning the attention back to the stage and back to him: "Anyone up to the challenge?"

"500!" Insisted a bald man in a black suit with a blood red tie, stepping out of the shadows and into the light.

"Five ... five... five hundred ..." The eyes of the auctioneer almost felt out of his head, and it took a few seconds until he had enough control to masked his awoken greed with a small cough. He was back to be professional and smiled generosity towards the bald man in his perfect fitted suit. "Mr. Luthor, that's a very bold offer. Let's see if anybody can top this?"

After a short look through the warehouse, it was clear there was nobody who could. With a last and final hit from the hammer the man announced Lex Luthor to be the new owner of the thermos.

The other criminals took this as their queue to leave and scattered.

The Dark Knight knew the moment of his interference had come. He readied himself taking the grappling hook gun with his right hand and the smoke and blinding pellets into his left. He threw the blinding pellets first, setting of their charge next to the main exit. Everyone turned towards the flash and he then threw the smoke pellets this time towards the podium.

The confusion was enough that nobody heard the grapple gun going off. Allowing Batman to swing down from his position in one swift move and getting hold of the thermos and managed with the momentum of his swing to reach the other side of the warehouse, landing on a rail under a big dirty glass window.

The initial shock about the attack had worn off. The ones who had recovered first drew their guns and began shooting at the dark crusader. Batman was not stopping in his tracks and jumped right through the glass. Leaving the villains behind him shouting at each other.

Once outside he glided with the help of his cape to the next rooftop, where the Batplane was already waiting hidden underneath a camouflage tarp.

A couple of minutes later he arrived in the Batcave his loyal butler and friend already waiting.

"Master Bruce, good to see you coming home and in one piece, I can see. What a nice surprise." His voice slightly showing the sarcasms of the elder.

Batman opened the hatch to his seat and pushed back the cowl to his costume, changing the appearance of the infamous vigilante with that of the well-known billionaire and playboy Bruce Wayne. "It's good to see you too Alfred." He rejoiced with a smile on his lips.

"How did it go Sir, if you don't mind me asking?" Bruce had freed himself from the seat and jumped down from his aircraft.

"Luthor was there and a whole lot other criminals from out-of-town."

"Should I inform the League Sir?" Alfred asked, while walking side by side with his employer and friend.

Bruce pulled out the strange thermos, holding it in his hand he examined it closely. "No," he shook the head, "maybe later."

The old English butler looked curiously at the recovered item. "It was a full success then?"

The other man only nodded, still going through theories in his head what exactly he had intercepted on his way to Lex Luthor's laboratory.

"And what it is? Your intel wasn't really much to work with."

"A thermos," deadpanned Bruce.

"That I can see." replied Alfred and Bruce chuckled on the dry answer of his friend.

They had reached the main platform and he placed the strange object on an examination table. "I don't know Alfred it radiates unknown energy in high concentration."

The old man raised one eyebrow asking in silence a question. "No nothing dangerous, just unknown."

"Have you tried to open it Sir?" The billionaire looked up from the computer he had himself seated.

"People had tried, I'm sure, but no I had no time, yet."

The English butler moved closer to the table, it was as the thermos was calling his name and he felt himself reaching for it, before he stopped himself just inches away from the white metal. "May I have a closer look?"

Bruce thought about it, there was no harm in it letting his friend touching the thermos. If all the other people had not be able to open it, his elderly friend would not be capable either.

In his head he was already planning which technology from the league to include, when he later would examine the item and maybe find what really was behind this strange energy it held inside.

With a short nod he gave his consent.

Carefully the butler picked the thermos up, the metal cool to the touch, as he followed the green lining on the silver white cylinder, the thermos suddenly started to hum, the same sound someone might hear near a high voltage power line from a train, both male shared a confused look.

Unintentionally the butler pressed down the release, the top became transparent and bright blue light came out. A surprised Alfred let go and the thermos clattered to the ground, still projecting a beam of the strange light. Both men jumped back, Bruce had a baterrang in his hand and his cowl back over his face, ready to strike and Alfred was hiding behind the computer terminal.

After a few seconds the light intensified and the outlining of a body appeared, it looked human and it was crouching on his hands and knees.

Bruce melted with the shadows of the cave, waiting for the right moment.

The light dimmed and the figure became more solid, in first expression it was male, dressed in a black hazmat suite, with white boots, belt and gloves, fitting the snow-white hair. It was the body of a boy, 15 maybe 16 years old, the body of a teenager. He was holding his head down, bangs of his unnatural hair covering his face, heavy panting and gasping for air, as if he had been submerged under water for a long time, a visible aura surrounded him like a constant glow of white light.

By closer inspection Bruce saw several cuts and tears in the suite, coated with green liquid on the etches, indicating injuries underneath.

The arms of the small boy started trembling, the strength for holding his own body slowly fading out.

In the voice of the Dark Knight, Bruce started: "Who …" as the arms of the boy finally collapsed and sank face down on the ground.

An, "Ouff," could be heard, followed by a painful moan. After a few seconds and by using his right hand as support, the boy turned his body around and managed to roll on his back. The reason of his pain now plain visible. Right in the middle of his chest was a very ghastly looking injury, with his experience Bruce could easy distinguish that it had come from a high energy blast. It was bigger as his fist, the edges looking sore and the center was a severe 3rd degree burn.

The boy had his eyes pressed shut, possible to work through the pain that showed on his face.

Bruce waited another 30 seconds until the breath became less rigid and tried again. "Who are you?" the head turned into his direction and two green eyes focused on him, pain dulled the glow but it was still there, unnatural and unearthly just like his hair.

"Good question." His voice was rasp and had a slight echo in it. The boy raised slowly his left hand holding it so he could see it.

Bruce pondered over the answer. All this didn't make much sense. If the boy had lost his memory he would say he didn't know. But his response indicated he could remember but had to choose what to reply carefully.

After a few seconds of close examination from his gloved hand he moved it to his head, pulling some bangs down to his eyes. The green orbs crisscrossed giving him a strange look. Again he examined them thoughtfully.

Batman waited patiently. The boy, whatever he was, had been trapped in the thermos for at least a year, maybe even longer if you could believe the rumors. So coming back to a physical body must be confusing, to say at least.

Letting out a deep sign of relieve, the boy was finished with his check up and mumbled: "Phantom."

Bruce could still hear the relief in the almost not audible voice. The body relaxed, and seemed to lose what was left of his strength. His head rolled to the side, the hand resting on his stomach and the eyes closed, the breath even out. For a moment he thought the boy had lost consciousness. But a fraction of a second later all tension was back and he had sat up. "DAN!" he screamed hate and anger loaded in this one name. "No, no, no, no, no!" he shouted looking around him, furious and ready for a fight. With energy the body shouldn't had left the teenager tried to stand up. "I have to go back," he yelled, desperately trying to get his legs under his body but failed. "He is going to kill..." he sank back, his face cringed in pain.

Batman made one step forward, the urge to help the injured boy screamed in his head and heart. Suddenly the boy tightened his fists, his eyes flung open with determination, the strange glow not longer dimmed by pain and now easy to see, he sat up, using a close by table on his right side as support to push weak legs under his fragile body, finally standing.

Bruce was surprised; he didn't expect the frail looking body to have enough strength left to rise. He made another step forward to get closer, but despite his anguish the silent movement still got the attention of the boy and he turned his head in his direction.

"Who is that Dan you are speaking off?" he inquired.

The neon green orbs sized Batman up, and Bruce felt as if he and his soul stood on trial, ready to be judged. When the boy decided his worth, he responded: "How ... how can you ... not know?"

Pain rippled through the boy's body, he closed his eyes for a brief moment, pushing it back one more time. "He ... he annihilated Amity Park. ... How can you not know that?"

Bruce could not remember to ever have heard from a city called Amity Park, or the destruction of one with that name. Immediately he jumped to the conclusion that the boy was not from this time. He could count out the past as the hazmat suit the boy was wearing and the thermos were from this time period. The near Future, yes that was a possibility. But how far had someone send the boy back, to warn them about the danger this "Dan" posed. The Dark Knight needed time to think, time to research and to do what he did best. Therefore he had to calm the boy down. He was hurting himself, risking his live and with that reducing the chance to provide the answers to countless questions.

He put down the baterrang, held up his now empty hands to show the boy that he was unarmed. "You have to calm down. Phantom was it, right?"

The words had not the effect he had hoped for. The green eyes of the boy flashed dangerously. "Calm down?!" anger staining his voice. "He is out there, right now..." the pain was too much, the boy swayed on his feet, hunching his upper body, at the same time protecting his mid section with one arm, barely holding himself up with the other. The head bowed down, looking at his hand on the table, which was his only support for the trembling legs in his fight to stand up and remain conscious.

"Out ... out there ... and murdering ... killing more ... more people." stuttered weakly.

Bruce jumped forward closing the short distance between them in a flash, supporting the boy so he would not crashing down and maybe injure himself even more. Phantom tried to pull away, but had no strength left to do so.

"You have to calm down. What or whoever you were fighting can wait. I'll help you, I promise." The boy was leaning on him slowly getting control over his trembling. "I can't, he ... he is ... too dangerous."

Bruce had to make a decision, one that wasn't difficult in the end.

Phantom felt the small prick on his left arm, looking down he saw a small dart, punched through his suit, where the man was holding him. Instantly the drowsiness returned and black spots appeared at the corners of his vision. It had to be a very powerful sedative or he was just overly tired. Fighting to stay awake his whole body started to shake again, looking at the man dressed in black and asked: "Why?"

"You are hurting yourself and need to recover first."

"... Dan..." Phantom eyes closed but he had not given up yet. "Whatever battle you were in, is long since over. You have been trapped in this thermos for over a year." The shock about this news was more than the teenager could take and he collapsed in Bruce waiting arms. "A year?" where the last whispered words before he finally lost consciousness.

Two bright white light rings appeared around the small waist of the boy and traveled up and down the slim form, changing the black and white suit to blue jeans, a white shirt with red trimming and a red symbol on the chest. His skin, that had appeared slightly tanned before, looked even more pale now and the unnatural white hair changed to a deep raven black. Just like the hazmat suit, his cloth where severe damaged and could only be called rags.

It had taken all of Bruce mentally strength not to let the boy go when he had transformed in his arms. The rings had felt the cold when passing his arms, but had gone even through his own protective suit and if it wasn't for his experience with transformations of other heroes from the Justice League, he would never have believed his own eyes.

Alfred gasped at the change and stepped out of the place where he had been hiding, since he had accidentally freed the boy from his confinement. "Master Bruce?" asked the butler unsure about what to do next.

"Call the League, he needs immediate medical attention." Bruce stood up, holding the boy bridal style in his arms.

The elder man rushed to the PC console. "Batcave to Watchtower." He called, staring straight into the camera waiting for a reply. It didn't take long and the screen showed a green-skinned alien. "Here Watchtower, Alfred what is the emergency?"

"Batman is coming up with one civilian, a teenager. He is heavy injured and in need of immediate medical attention."

The alien showed confusion. "A teenager?"

"You can ask question later J'ohn!" said Bruce as he walked towards the Zeta-Tube.

"Understood." The video feed ended and Alfred followed Batman to the big round portal on one side of the Batcave.

"Call Robin and send him up, when he arrives." Bruce stepped in the teleportation's devise.

"Sir?" The old English butler looked puzzled.

"He is the same age, maybe he can calm Phantom down when he wakes up in an unfamiliar place." Alfred nod in understanding and used the console on his right to activate the Zeta-Tube.