Archive of Our Own

Talia had been expecting one child. That was all she really needed, one boy to carry on her father’s legacy. She had a room prepared far in advanced, full of whatever a young infant would need. She had a name picked, a strong one, one worthy of his station as her father’s heir. As her son. She even had his instructors lined up already, though she knew he wouldn’t need them for several years yet.

Talia was ready for a child. She hadn’t been nearly ready for two.

Two boys were born that day, the first only a minute before the other. Her father had been thrilled. The heir and the spare, he called them. She named them Damian and Danial.

As they grew, Talia couldn’t help but notice how similar they were. Their facial features were near identical and their raven black hair both the same shade. The only difference she could see physically was their eyes, Damian’s being as vivid of a green as her own while Danial’s were a bright blue. His father’s blue.

The two were practically inseparable, whether it was training or for missions. Damian led while Danial followed. They would become a fearsome duo in the future, more so than they are now. The only possible hiccup was Danial.

He was her son and lived up to that title just as well as Damian did. His skill and intuition only matched by his brother at their age. But the more she watched them, the more his personality would show through his perfect son act.

Danial was soft. She hated to admit it, but it was true. Danial was great at everything they taught him, except when it came to killing. Danial couldn’t kill.

The boys were good at keeping it a secret, Damian was very skilled at covering for him. But that wouldn’t matter soon. Their first solo missions were coming up and Danial wouldn’t be able to hide behind his brother forever.

Talia may have not have been ready for two children when they were born, but she certainly didn’t want to suddenly go back to one.

-

DANIAL

“You are worrying over nothing,” Damian told him as Danial was packing for his trip. He did so slowly, as if lollygagging would somehow cancel the entire trip. “It is only a mission.”

“A solo mission,” Danial pointed out, slowly rolling up a spare set of clothes. “A solo assassination mission.”

“I went on my solo mission last week and I was just fine,” Damian pointed out. “You will be as well.”

“It’s different,” Danial muttered.

“Only because you think it’s different,” Damian said.

“I haven’t killed before,” Danial whispered, shooting a quick look at the closed door before continuing. “You’ve always done it.”

“It is no different than the hunting trips grandfather took us on when we were four. You killed the rabbits and deer back then.”

“I didn’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it. You just have to do it. You are no longer a child,” Damian said. “It is about time you act like it.”

“In a lot of the world, nine years old is still considered very much a child,” Danial pointed out.

“We aren’t there,” Damian said flatly, picking up everything left to pack and shoving it into his bag. “Just do the job and stop whining about it.”

Damian closed the bag and shoved it into Danial’s arms.

“Go. They’re waiting to send you off,” he said sternly.

Danial nodded, walking towards the door like he was heading to the gallows.

“Danny,” Damian called back, getting the other boy’s attention immediately. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Dami,” Danial said with a smile.

If his steps were a little lighter now, well no one would really notice anyways.

-

He couldn’t do it.

Finding the target was easy. They were just an ordinary man living alone. A high school teacher who seemingly pissed off the wrong person. There was no security or anything to make it a challenge. Before the man even knew someone was there, he was pinned to the ground with a blade to his throat.

But Danial couldn’t kill him.

His hands shook, his breath was running short. He felt nauseous.

He had the faint thought that he probably looked as panicked as the man did under his mask. But that didn’t change anything.

He just…he couldn’t do it.

Danial didn’t know how long he kept the man pinned to the floor, or how long he spent trying to convince himself to move the blade and finish him off. But eventually he gave up, removing his blade and diving back into the shadows he came from.

Soon enough he was out of the house and running through the small town. It was almost an hour before he stopped, panting in an alleyway behind a building whose top half looked to be under construction.

It was then that he realized he failed.

He failed the mission.

His grandfather hated failures; Danial had seen more than his far share of them killed before they could even explain themselves.

Danial was one of them now. He failed his mission.

He was a failure.

His grandfather wouldn’t put up with this, he knew. It would not matter that he was of his blood. He was the spare. He was a luxury, not a necessity. Grandfather would get rid of him just as quickly as the others if he went back now.

Danial felt sick again. His whole body shaking as he pressed his back against the bricks behind him. He ripped off his mask but it still felt like he wasn’t getting enough air in his lungs.

He didn’t want to die.

A sob escaped him before he could stop it. He quickly covered his mouth but by then tears had already started falling down his face. Danial knew he shouldn’t cry. If he got caught crying, he’d get in trouble. Soldiers didn’t cry.

But he couldn’t help it. Danial just wanted to go home. He wanted hide in his brother’s room and pretend this mission never happened.

But he couldn’t go home. Because if he went home, he’d die.

He could never go home. Never see mother again. Never see his brother again.

He was alone.

Danial pulled his knees to his chest, burying his face in them as he cried. He couldn’t help it. No one was around anyways. He could cry all he wanted.

“Um, hello?”

Danial’s head shot up, accidentally locking eyes with a girl peeking out of a nearby doorway.

She was a few years older than him, maybe twelve or thirteen, with her ginger hair pulled back in a small ponytail. Turquoise eyes watched him in confusion and…was it concern? Danial couldn’t tell. She was in a black sweater and a turquoise skirt, holding a bat with something written on it in sharpie. Danial couldn’t read in the dark and the bat was quickly put out of sight anyways.

“Are…are you alright?” She was concerned, which confused Danial. No one was concerned about him.

He didn’t answer.

“Why are you crying behind my house? Are you lost?” the girl tried again. Danial just blinked at her, occasionally sniffling as the tears started to slow. “Do you need help getting home?”

“No, I-“ Danial paused. He had been about to tell her he knew where home was but, then he remembered why he had been crying in the first place. “I don’t have one.”

“You’re homeless,” She said with a gasp. He guessed she was right. “Do you have any family?”

“Mother and my brother,” he answered, trying to wipe the tears off his face. More only replaced them. “But i…I can’t go where they are.”

“Oh, they’re dead,” she whispered to herself. He opened his mouth to correct her but quickly snaped it closed again. It was probably better she thought them dead. No one would try to send him back if they thought he had no one to go back to. “I’m so sorry. Do you have anywhere to go?”

Danial shook his head.

“You can stay with me for now, if you want. I’m sure my parents won’t mind,” she said, with a smile. “I’m Jazz, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Dan-“ Danial hesitated, “-ny. Just Danny.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” she smiled again holding a hand out to him. “Do you want to stay with me?”

“Ok,” he answered quietly, cautiously taking her hand. She grinned, leading him into the door.

“Great! I always wanted a little brother,” she said, sounding like she was only half joking.

Danny relaxed a little as he was all but dragged into a homely looking kitchen. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-

It took two months for Danny to settle into the domestic life. For the most part anyways.

The Fentons so different from the league that he had a hard time acknowledging that they were real. The adults, Maddy and Jack, were very quirky ghost scientists who, when Jazz introduced him as her new brother, were only slightly taken aback. When it became clear they couldn’t find his guardians, or even a solid record of his existence, the Fentons were quickly able to gain custody. Danny was pretty sure they were working on adoption papers now, but he was alright with that. Danny Fenton had a pretty good ring to it, regardless.

He was given his own room that was smaller than his one in the league, but he was allowed to decorate it as he wanted. He was given new clothes that weren’t assassin attire. First some hand-me-downs from Jazz before her parents even realized he was there, then some of his own from the store. He wasn’t sure what Jazz did with his assassin clothes and armor but he really didn’t mind the loss.

The whole family was very…lax compared to the League. If he did something wrong, he wasn’t immediately punished or looked down on. Sometimes they didn’t even scold him, just explained things and continued on. The adults weren’t even around all that much, being busy with their ghost science most of the day. Jazz did most of the supposed parental tasks when she wasn’t at school.

Danny was supposed to be starting school soon, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. He liked having most of the day to himself. It didn’t matter if he slept in or watched tv all day or took off to wander the city. As long as he was home when Jazz got back, it was fine. But school would take that freedom away as soon as his enrolment was finalized. And if it was anything like the league classes, he wanted nothing to do with it.

But today he had a mission. There would be no tv watching for him, at least not until he was done.

He had hidden his travel bag in some woods just outside the town before his failed mission. It hadn’t been safe to go back for it immediately, in case he accidentally made security higher than normal. But he was worried if he left it any longer, someone would find it.

Danny headed towards the woods, trying to remember the frantic path he took away from his botched mark. He knew he was going the right way when he found his ninjato still hidden behind someone’s AC unite.

Smiling faintly, he ran his fingers over the blue wrapped hilt. His brother had an identical one but wrapped in green. After a moment he shoved it, scabbard and all, through his belt loop and continued on his way. Once he got his bag back, he could hide it in there. Until then he can let people assume he was just a nine-year-old with a toy sword.

Sometimes he loved being a kid.

It took an hour to get to the woods and another half to find his bag. Danny pulled it out of a hollow log and started checking the contents, making sure everything was there.

A blade pressed against his neck, freezing him in place. How could he get this rusty after just two months? He should have noticed the person long before the blade touched him.

“Danial,” A familiar voice said, sounding cold. He knew who it was and it certainly explained why he hadn’t heard them. “Explain yourself.”

“Mother,” Danny said softly, not daring to look back. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not an explanation, child,” Talia said sharply. “Your mission should have ended two months ago yet the mark is not dead and you have not returned. What happened here?”

“I-I failed,” he whispered, looking down at his bag. “I couldn’t kill him.”

“Was the mark more prepared than anticipated?” she asked. Danny shook his head, careful of the blade still at his neck. “Were you injured in the act?”

“No mother,” Danny said.

“Then why couldn’t you kill him?”

“He didn’t want to die,” he barely breathed. “I couldn’t take the life of a man still fighting for it.”

“Do you understand what you have done?” Talia questioned. “A League member cannot leave his mission unfinished. Your grandfather would not allow it.”

“I know, mother.”

“He will have you killed for this, his grandchild or not.”

“I know.”

“And you are still willing to leave this mission incomplete?”

“I cannot kill him.”

Talia sighed, lowering her blade from his neck.

“Just like your father,” she murmured to herself. Danny looked back at her, finding barely a hint of an emotion on her face. It was almost comforting to see. She locked eyes with him before holding out her free hand. “Your bag and sword.”

Danny turned towards her, handing her the items without a word. He didn’t know what she wanted with them, and was a little curious as she put away her own sword in favor of his ninjato.

He watched with wide eyes as she pulled out his spare suit and shredded it with his blade. When she was done the biggest piece was the size of his palm. He knew this because she shoved that piece into his hand before using the blade to cut through his jacket and into his shoulder.

Danny stayed silent, gritting his teeth at the pain lancing through his arm. Talia ran the flat of the blade through the blood, making sure to get some on the hilt as well before putting it in its scabbard uncleaned.

“Blot the blood with the scrap,” she ordered. Danny did as commanded, getting a good portion covered in his blood before she took that from him as well.

“Danial al Ghul is dead,” she said, a finality to her words that made him wince. “His death was an accident, a mission gone horribly wrong. There was no body to recover.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Danny whispered, watching as his mother knelt in front of him, pulling out a medical kit. She motioned for him to take off the jacket, so he did.

“My father will have demanded your blood,” Talia replied, her voice sounding almost soft as she tended his wound. “And so he will have it. On your sword and your suit. Not on your corpse.”

“You’re not going to kill me?” he asked quietly. She looked at him for a long moment before continuing.

“You cannot kill what is already dead.”

“But I’m not-“

“Danial al Ghul is dead,” she said again. “The boy sitting in front of me is not him. He can never be him if he wants to live. Whatever life he lives here looks…mundane, but that is not a bad thing. It may fit him well.”

“Oh,” Danny said, finally realizing what was going on.

His mother was sparing his life by faking his death. He…wasn’t sure what he thought of that.

“Thank you,” he whispered. She nodded as she finished wrapping the gauze around his wound. She hesitated a moment before placing a short kiss on the top of his head.

“You can never come back to the league,” she told him firmly, as she climbed to her feet. “If you come back, I will not be able to protect you again. So stay out of trouble.”

“I understand.”

Talia took a few steps away before pausing.

“If you do find yourself in trouble, with the league or otherwise, go to Gotham,” she said. “Go to Bruce Wayne, or find Batman. If you tell them you’re a runaway from the league, they will take you in. Questions will be asked but as long as you answer truthfully it should work out.”

“But Bruce Wayne is a rich playboy, and Batman so paranoid he probably thinks his own shadow is out to get him,” Danny said, mostly thinking out loud. He caught Talia crack a small smile at his words but didn’t interrupt him. “It doesn’t really make sense for either of them to want to take in a failed child assassin no matter the story. Unless I’m missing something. I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

“Don’t worry, he’s going to love you,” she reassured. Danny was definitely missing something but he wouldn’t get an answer about it now. “Just do as I say and it will work out.”

“Yes, mother,” he said with a nod. Talia raised an eyebrow and he amended his statement. “I mean, yes, Talia.”

“Stay safe.”

-

FIVE YEARS LATER

“It’s broken, Sam. Why do I need one of these if it’s broken?” Danny questioned. His goth friend stared at him flatly as he pulled it on regardless of his complaints.

“You’re the scientists’ kid, you tell me?” she said flatly. Sam and Tucker were the best things to come out of his mandatory schooling, not that there were many things to compete with that title. He hated school. It taught almost nothing practical and the stuff that was he had been taught ages ago. It was boring and the meathead bullies didn’t exactly make it better. Sure he could beat the shit out of them but that wouldn’t go very far into keeping his cover.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I knew.”

“Didn’t your parents give you a lab safety course when they were building this thing?” Tucker asked, half distracted with his pda. Danny was pretty sure he was setting it up to film his little stunt, whether it was for evidence or blackmail he wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Danny answered, artfully dancing around refering to Maddy and Jack as his parents. They were nice and cared for him a lot, but they weren’t his parents. But Sam and Tucker didn’t know he had been adopted by them. They had moved to Amity Park four years ago and by then his name had already changed. No one in town knew except the Fentons and Danny thought it best to keep it that way.

“Dude, how do you not know if you were given a lab safety course?”

“Because whenever they start talking about ghost science stuff, I tune out,” Danny said. Sam rolled her eyes.

“Then why are we even here?!” Tucker exclaimed.

“Because you wanted to see the broken ghost door,” Danny said flatly. “And because you were both like ‘oh what if the doorway is invisible’,” Danny wiggled his fingers near his head dramatically, “I’m going in there to show you that there is no doorway. It’s just a broken machine leading nowhere.”

 “Are you sure you’re not just showing off again? Like during that gymnastics unit in gym?” Sam asked.

“Why would I show off to you two? You’re already my friends,” Danny said, zipping the safety suit the rest of the way. “And how was I supposed to know people were afraid of heights?”

“Dude, you scared the shit out of half the people there because your dumb ass got halfway up to the trapeze platform before anyone noticed you didn’t have a harness,” Sam told him. “That’s not ‘afraid of heights’, that’s just dumbass.”

Danny smirked a bit. If they thought that was dangerous, they probably didn’t want to hear what his League training had entailed.

“Alright! I’m going in!” Danny announced, clapping his hands together.

-

POST RUNAWAY (16 YEARS OLD)

Danny shifted his feet, pulling at his old jacket sleeves nervously. He could do this. He had to do this. Talia had told him to go to Bruce Wayne if he ever found himself in trouble. He couldn’t get into much more trouble than he was now.

He just needed to press the intercom button, and explain to whoever was on the other side. That was it. He would be safe again.

Danny left without pressing the button, just like every other day this month. Maybe two. He lost track of time a while ago. Instead, he headed back towards the city, wrapping a threadbare scarf around the bottom of his face. It was getting cold now. Winter would soon be here with its snow. He wasn’t looking forward to the snow. Not while he was living in the streets of Gotham.

There was technically another option that might get him somewhere safe, that was find Batman. But the man was as elusive as he was paranoid. And he was very paranoid. Danny occasionally saw a shadow passing over the rooftops but it would be gone by the time he got up there.

At this point the only way he would run into Batman was if he got caught in a villain scheme.

Danny bit down on the instinct to lash out as a gun was pressed to the back of his head. He was pretty sure he could get away unharmed if he did fight, but he hadn’t had to deal with guns in a long time. He didn’t want to take the chance that he was wrong.

“Oh lookie here. A little homeless child,” a far too happy voice said. “Lucky for you, I’m in need of some child labor.”

Well fuck.

Maybe he would be meeting Batman after all.

-

It took three days for the bats to realize homeless kids were going missing. Three days from when Danny was picked up, anyways. There were a few kids there before him but most of them were picked up after.

The Penguin’s bar wasn’t the most secure place to keep prisoners. A determined three year old could break out in several hours if they wanted to. Danny could have disappeared even easier, without going ghost. It would have been as easy as slipping into a shadow and then he would be free. But if he disappeared, the other kids would be the ones to pay for it. Danny didn’t want anyone paying for him.

So Danny stayed, continuing to unload illegal weapon shipments in Penguin’s freezer. It was cold. So cold that he dared not sleep, afraid he’d not wake up again. It was times like these he wished his ice powers came with cold immunity.

The third day brought the sound of fighting and gunfire outside the freezer door. Not unusual, if it was night. But Danny was pretty sure it wasn’t. He and the other kids stopped working, instead watching the door to see what would happen. Eventually it stopped, leaving silence.

The door creaked open, revealing someone in a red helmet and a brown leather coat.

Red Hood.

“Don’t just stand there,” Red Hood said, motioning towards the now open door. “This is a rescue. Let’s go.”

The other kids took off immediately, cautiously weaving past Red Hood and around their previous guards before disappearing around the corner. But Danny was tired. Tired and cold. He had hinged everything on the bats coming to save them that, in the relief of them actually doing so, he just sat on the ground instead of running.

“Come on, kid.” Red Hood was in front of him, arm reaching to grab his. “This is no time for naps.”

A jolt went through Danny as soon as the hand touched his arm. It was almost felt like when a ghost touched his human form, but weaker. And warped. Like someone imbued this man with an altered version of ghost energy and left him to deal with the consequences. It wasn’t enough to turn him half ghost or give him powers, but more than a human should be able to live with.

“You should be dead.”

Red Hood froze halfway through pulling him to his feet. Danny had a faint thought that he probably shouldn’t have said that out loud, but he was exhausted.

“What did you just say?” Red Hood said, something in his voice that Danny couldn’t recognize right now.

“You should be dead,” Danny repeated.

Red Hood dropped him like he was on fire. Danny continued talking as if he hadn’t just fallen a foot to the floor.

“I’m glad you’re not. I wouldn’t be getting rescued if you were dead. But that doesn’t change that you really should be dead right now.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Red Hood demanded.

“Nobody, obviously. The Penguin wouldn’t have taken me otherwise,” Danny said with a tired shrug.

“Look here you little-“

Danny caught a flash of a muzzle a split second before one of the penguin’s downed goons to fire a shot at the distracted hero. Luckily it was enough time for him to shove Red Hood out of the way. Unluckily, it was not enough time for him to move as well.

Collapsing onto the ground, Danny’s hand instinctively covered the wound. He could tell the bullet just clipped his side, his coat taking most of the damage, but it still hurt.

 Red Hood fired back at the goon a few times, making sure he stayed down this time. Danny wasn’t sure if he killed him, but he didn’t really feel like asking at the moment.

“Damn it, kid. What the fuck you do that for?” Red Hood demanded. Danny hissed as he was rolled over, hand moved so Red Hood could see the wound.

“Just a graze,” Danny muttered to him. He shifted his scarf so Red Hood could see the teasing smile on his face. “Just because you should be dead, doesn’t mean I wanted you to be.”

Freezing for a second time, Red Hood just stared at him. Danny knew the joke was bad, but he didn’t think it was that bad. It took Red Hood a solid thirty seconds to do anything, that anything being pulling out some gauze from somewhere and moving Danny’s coat and shirt enough to press it against the wound. He muttered something about ‘another demon spawn’ but Danny couldn’t quite make out what past that.

“Hold this,” Red Hood ordered. Danny did as he was told before he was scooped up and carried out the building’s back door. He walked past the police and EMTs, placing him on the back of a motor bike and sticking a spare helmet on his head.

“Um…where are we going?” Danny asked as Red Hood climbed onto the bike himself and started it. “Because this very much feels like I’m getting kidnapped from my kidnappers.”

“We’re going to the Batcave,” Red Hood answered. “You need medical attention.”

“We just passed an ambulance,” Danny pointed out. Red Hood said nothing, instead revving his engine briefly before taking off down the street. “You know what? This is fine. I needed to talk to batman anyways.”

-

JASON

Jason had no idea what this kid’s deal was, but he was going to find out. For one, he looked like someone cloned the demon spawn, which was a scarier thought than he ever wanted to have. Second, he called him out for having died, right before taking a bullet for him.

This kid was a mystery that needed to be solved last week.

“Hey Replacement,” Jason called through the coms. He glanced back at the kid, fairly certain he couldn’t hear him over the bike. How the teen was starting to fall asleep on said bike was beyond him.

A suffering sigh came through the mike that could only be a decaffeinated Tim.

“What do you want?”

“I’m bringing back a kid,” Jason announced, cutting straight to the chase. “He’s got grazed by a bullet. May need stitches but I’ll leave that up to you.”

“You. Bringing back a child,” Tim said flatly. “And here I thought you were trying not to follow in B’s footsteps.”

“Fuck off, Replacement. I’m not recruiting the little shit. He literally needs stitches or some shit,” Jason growled. “And you might want to get that secret genetic testing machine warmed up because if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I was rescuing demon spawn.”

“Was he that bad?”

“He’s damn near identical. The only difference is this one smiles when he says I should be dead.”

“The fuck?”

“My words exactly.”

“Ok,” Tim said with another sigh. “Ok. I swear if this turns out to be a clone of some sort, I'm going to...well, I don't know what I'm going to do. But I'll certainly need more coffee than god to do it.”

“We’ll be there in five.”

“I’ll be ready.”

It was less than five minutes when the bike pulled into the Batcave, the kid still nodding off on the back. Jason had no idea how he didn’t fall off but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Red Robin!” Jason called, watching the kid start, looking around the cave with wide eyes. Jason was pretty sure now he wasn’t Damian’s clone, at the very least. His eyes were far too blue to match Damian’s green. Maybe Bruce’s? No, his skin tone was darker than Bruce’s. If he wasn’t Damian’s clone than he probably wasn’t a clone at all.

The red armored, black caped figure normally glued to the batcomputer was out of his chair and to the bike in a matter of seconds.

“Hello, I've heard you’ve been injured,” Red Robin said, sounding less exhausted than on the phone. Whatever amount of coffee he had consumed in the last five minutes must have already started kicking in.

“So Red Hood’s a tattle tale. Good to know,” The kid muttered. Jason could see the effort it took for Tim to not start laughing.

“He can’t be a very good one. He didn’t tell me you were funny.”

“He didn’t appreciate any of my jokes,” he said with a shrug, wincing a bit at the movement.

“He wouldn’t know a good joke if it bit him in the ass,” Tim said, already examining what he could of the wound. “A decent bullet wound you got there.”

“It’s just a graze.”

“Well let's get it taken care of. Do you need help getting off the bike and over to the table?” Red Robin motioned towards the conveniently placed surgical table they kept around just in case.

The kid stared at the table for a moment before swinging himself off the bike to stand next to Tim.

“No,” he said, though whatever faith they had in that statement was soon undermined when his first step almost ended with him face planting the floor. Tim caught him just in time.

“I think that speaks for itself,” Tim said simply, picking up the kid to carry the rest of the way. He sat him down on the table, helping him take off his coat and shirt so he could get at the wound.

Jason stayed leaning against his bike, taking note of anything that could be useful. The kid was scarred, almost on par with the standard batfamily member. Old cuts and various marks; some clearly surgical. Most noticeable was a large electrical burn going up his spine. He was paler than he should be, and skinnier too; far too much of both to be remotely healthy. Jason could see some of his ribs, which was an even worse sign.

“What’s your name, kid?” Jason asked, interrupting whatever pleasantries he and Tim had been trading.

“Seriously, Hood? You kidnapped a child and you didn’t even ask his name?” Tim said. “The bat’s better than that, at least.”

“Fuck. Off.”

“Danny. My name is Danny,” the kid answered.

“No last name or anything?” Tim questioned as he cleaned the wound with saline and gauze.

“Nope,” Danny answered, hissing in pain. “Just Danny.”

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen? Wait, no fifteen. I’m fifteen.” While the kid was distracted thinking, Tim used a q-tip to collect a blood sample. Before he could do anything with it, however, Danny grabbed his wrist.

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyeing the bloody q-tip suspiciously. His eyes were the same cold, steely look that Bruce had whenever they were in trouble. Tim must have saw it too, considering how he hesitated.

“It’s… just a sample to run through the computer. I want to check a few things, make sure you’re not getting an infection,” Red Robin covered after a moment. 

“Ok,” Danny said, the look fading from his face as he let go of Tim’s wrist. “Just as long as you’re not planning to clone me again.”

“Again?” Jason said.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Danny waved a hand as Tim cautiously went back to cleaning the wound. “Only one was actually stable.”

Jason froze for a moment, a horrible thought occurring to him. Was Damian the clone?

“She turned out cool though.”

Oh, thank god.

“Most people don’t have to worry about being cloned,” Tim said slowly, now attaching butterfly stitches to hold the wound together. Apparently, it wasn’t bad enough for full stitches but it did need something.

“Most people aren’t living on the streets of the most villain filled city in the country,” Danny said flatly.

“You...have a point,” Tim conceded. “Red Hood, I’m almost done with him. Go find him a shirt that’s not blood covered.”

“Will one of Demon spawn’s work?”

“Do you want to die again?” Tim answered flatly. “Because taking his stuff is a good way of doing it.”

“Who else keeps civilian clothes down here?”

“My duffle bag is under the computer. Grab one from there,” Tim said. Jason nodded. He rifled through the bag before pulling out a t-shirt that said ‘coffee=life.’ He hesitated, catching sight of a bright red hoodie and grabbing that as well.

Tim was just taping some gauze over the wound as Jason passed him the clothes.

“Thanks,” Danny muttered. Tim helped him into the shirt that was far too big for him and doing the same for the hoodie. Danny thanked him as well before Tim took the blood sample to the computer and started imputing things. Jason glanced over at the kid, finding Danny about three seconds from falling asleep sitting up.

“When’s the last time you slept, kid?” Jason asked.

“Three days. Maybe more,” he answered. “I didn’t want to sleep in the freezer.”

“Get some rest,” he told him, patting him on the shoulder. “You deserve it.”

“What are you going to do with me? I can’t stay in the cave forever.”

“We’ll figure that out later.” Jason reassured. “Sleep.”

Danny nodded, laying down on his non-injured side and immediately losing consciousness. Jason shook his head, pulling out a spare blanket from storage and covering the kid with it. Once he was sure Danny would be fine, he went over to Tim and the computer.

“You got anything yet?” he asked.

“I’m working on it,” Tim answered, not looking away from the screen. “It’s being difficult. It doesn’t want to take the sample for some reason. Says it’s contaminated. I’m working on a work around now.”

“Good. The kid’s out cold,” Jason said as he popped his helmet off to breath a bit. “Apparently he’s slept less than you over the last three days.”

“Impressive,” Tim stated, very much distracted. “And I doubt the Penguin offers coffee. So I’m doubly impressed.”

“You’re not adopting him,” Jason said flatly.

“Don’t worry, I already know you called dibs.”

“I’m not adopting shit, you jackass,” he said, swatting Tim lightly over the head. Tim only smirked and continued his work.

“There,” Tim said, hitting the enter key very dramatically. “It’s accepting the sample now, ignoring everything abnormal and focusing on the human aspects of it.”

“What was abnormal about it?”

“Hard to say. It confused the computer so it’s not Kriptonian or Martian dna. He may just be some sort of meta, which would explain why someone had wanted to clone him.” Tim leaned back in his chair, sipping at a lukewarm cup of coffee. “All we can do is wait for the results.”

It took about ten minutes for those results to come in. Results that had both boys unsure of how to handle this.

“So it’s a match,” Jason said, massaging his temples.

“Not a clone match but yeah, he’s definitely a Wayne,” Tim ran his hands through his hair. “Maybe Damian had a twin he didn’t know about? The age is the same.”

“You know what that means right?”

The boys shared a look before Tim’s hand shot up to touch his nose.

“Not it!” He exclaimed.

“Oh come on! That wasn’t fair and you know it!”

“You brought the child back to the batcave. You get to tell B he’s a dad again. I don’t make the rules.”

“I’ve never heard that rule in my damn life.”

-

BRUCE

“Run that by me again,” Bruce said, arms crossed. Jason sighed, rubbing the back of his head obviously wanting to be anywhere else. Judging by Tim’s smug expression, he probably lost a bet.

Bruce was glad he had sent Damian to change before this conversion because he wasn’t sure how the child would react to it.

“That kid out cold over there, was one of the kidnapped children the Penguin had working in his freezer. He’s also your kid. Damian’s twin, probably,” Jason explained quickly. “Tim already ran the DNA test and besides some meta human anomalies, it’s a family match. Congratulations, it’s a boy. I’m going home before you make me tell Damian too.”

“Meta human?”

“Ask the replacement,” Jason said, waving a hand. “I’m done.”

He hopped on his bike, pausing before starting it.

“Oh, and the kid mentioned something about having been cloned once, so yeah. You might have a daughter now too. Not sure about that one though since he hadn’t slept in three days.”

Jason revved his engine and was gone before Bruce could get another word in edge wise. The boy didn’t even twitch. Bruce couldn’t see much from there, only bits of black hair sticking out from under a blanket.

“Tim,” Bruce called, an exhausted edge to his voice that even he could hear.

“We aren’t entirely sure about the Meta human status,” Tim started explaining immediately. “The computers got all confused when I first put the sample in but after shifting the parameters around, it was fine. So, there’s something not normal in his blood and DNA but we don’t know much past that.”

Tim hesitated, glancing at Bruce before continuing slowly.

“I looked into it a bit more and apparently the computer has the same problem processing Jason’s and Damian’s blood, but not quite as bad.”

“You think he may have had contact with a Lazarus pit?”

“I think if he did, it would had to have been a lot longer of an exposure to get the amount of anomalies his blood has. Jason’s and Damian’s were able to go through without the parameter changes eventually. This kid’s, not so much,” Tim said, sipping a cold cup of coffee without so much as blinking. “Do with that information what you will.”

Bruce sighed heavily. This is the last thing he was expecting to deal with after coming back from patrol.

Another kid. He and Talia had another, biological child he didn’t know about. Has never met. Damian’s twin, if Jason’s assumption was correct.

Bruce walked over to the surgical bed, trying to get a better look. He shifted the blanket away from the boy’s face and, well, he didn’t know what to expect, but an exact replica of Damian wasn’t it. Maybe not an exact replica. His hair was longer, and quite a bit messier. His face showing more signs of malnutrition than Damian’s ever did.

There were so many questions going through his mind. What was he like? Did he share his personality with his brother? Did they have similar training? Where has he been all this time?

So many questions and the only one that could possibly answer them being the child himself.

The kid’s face scrunched up lightly before moving the blanket back over his face. Otherwise, he stayed asleep.

One thing was certain. He wouldn’t be getting those answers tonight.

“Tim, take the kid-”

“Danny,” Tim corrected, setting down the coffee. “He said his name is Danny. That’s all we really got from him. That and the clone thing.”

“Take Danny to one of the spare bedrooms in the manor. Let me know when he wakes,” Bruce answered.

“On it, B,” Tim said with a small salute. “Um...what are you going to do?”

“Research.”

-

DANNY

Danny awoke warm and comfortable, which isn’t something he had been able to say in a while. His bed back in Amity had been old and pretty lumpy and the Gotham hideaways he had been staying in didn’t even have that. But wherever he was now, was very, very comfy.

He tried to remember how he got to be in a bed this comfortable, but all he remembered was getting picked up (kidnapped?) by Red Hood and then falling asleep on a stretcher. But this definitely wasn’t the stretcher so maybe he was moved?

He stayed still, trying to use his other senses to figure out where he was. To see if he was in any danger.

A smell of freshly laundered sheets. Sound of central heating humming quietly through a vent. Another sound of someone quietly breathing nearby and a small electronic device set down on a table.

“Are you finally awake?” a voice called to him. They sounded nice, almost teasing, but there was no way for Danny to be sure. Danny didn’t move. “You aren’t in danger, if that’s what you’re worried about. You don’t need to keep pretending to be asleep.”

Danny still wasn’t sure if he could trust this individual, so he didn’t.

“You know, you can’t get food if you’re still ‘sleeping’. And I bet you’re hungry.”

Danny’s stomach rumbled, betraying him. The person was right, he was very hungry. Peeking out from under the blankets, Danny quickly scanned the room. Fancy bedroom. Each singular piece of furniture more expensive than the Fenton’s entire house. In one of the chairs sat a boy in his late teens, maybe early twenties. Straight black hair framed a face with blue eyes, crinkling in amusement. He was wearing a plain, white tee-shirt with some slacks, a button up shirt hanging discarded on the back of the chair.

“Oh good. You’re actually awake,” he said with a smile. “Glad I wasn’t talking to air this time. My name’s Tim, by the way. And you’re Danny, right?”

“Where am I?” Danny asked. His voice was rough and throat quite dry. 

“Wayne manor,” he answered. “One of the batfamily dropped you off last night. Asked us to keep an eye on you while they figured some things out.”

“Wayne manor?” his eyes shot wide, not believing what he just heard. “But...why?”

“Waynes have a habit of getting into trouble with the more...criminally ambitious members of the city. The bats are really good at making sure we get back out again,” Tim answered. “If they ask us to help someone out for a while, it’s the least we can do.”

“Ok?” Danny wasn’t quite sure about that statement. Something was weird about it but Danny didn’t know what. There was also something odd about this Tim as well. Almost familiar. But he just couldn’t put his finger on either of them. “You said something about food?”

“I can take you to the kitchen right now if you want,” Tim said with a smile. “Or you can use the bathroom to clean up first and then go to the kitchen.”

Tim pointed towards a door just off to the side that Danny assumed was the bathroom in question.

Danny may be hungry, but between that and the promise of a shower, the shower definitely won out. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a shower.

“Shower,” Danny said in no uncertain terms. Tim just smiled.

“I thought maybe,” Tim said, collecting his tablet and dress shirt into his arms. “There’s clothes already set aside for you in the bathroom. I’m going to head back to my own room for now, just to give you some privacy. It’s just two doors down so when you’re done, you can let me know and I’ll show you the kitchen. Sound good?”

“Sure,” Danny shrugged as he climbed out of the bed, wiggling his toes in the very plush carpet. Tim had just about left when a thought struck him. “how long was I asleep?”

“Not quite twenty hours,” Tim answered, checking his watch briefly. “It’s a little after noon the next day.”

“Ok, and where’s my stuff?”

“Coat and shoes are on the dresser over there.”

“My backpack?” Danny asked. Tim looked at him blankly. “I had a backpack with me.”

“Not once you were delivered here,” Tim answered, apologetically. “And Red Hood didn’t mention you having one either. Maybe it’s still at the penguin’s layer.”

“Probably,” Danny grumbled. Everything he owned was in that bag, and some of those couldn’t be replaced.

“We’ll ask around,” Tim reassured. “What did it look like?”

“A plain blue back pack with three decorative patches sewn on,” Danny described. “One’s NASA, another one just says ‘Justice for Pluto’, and the last one, well, it says ‘prepare Uranus.’ It was a prank gift.”

“Of course,” Tim said around chuckles. “As I said, we’ll ask around. Maybe the cops picked it up after the raid.”

“Ok, thanks.”

“No problem. Enjoy your shower,” at which point, he disappeared leaving Danny alone in a very big room.