Chapter Text
The fireball was loud. Loud and bright and warm. Danny had to look away. Stop running towards it.
He dropped to his knees in the parking lot and cried out. Something in his chest-- Something was wrong.
Everything was wrong, he laughed bitterly. Nasty Burger had just gone up in a mushroom cloud, taking all his friends and family with it.
He hadn’t cheated on the test. He had-- He had tried so hard. To be good. To do everything. So why-- Why had--?
A sob broke out of his mouth and Danny had to duck his head. From the heat and the smoke. His eyes were stinging, tears flowing freely.
Three Weeks Later
Gotham was just as bad as every stereotype claimed. The sky was one big wall of clouds. There was a thick mist in the air, just enough to make everything cold and damp without crossing the line into being real rain. It made every surface slick with moisture-- in addition to the dirt and grime they were already covered with. Even just with a quick glance around, Danny say dirty needles on the ground.
It was dark out, just past dusk, though Danny suspected Gotham was dimly lit and overcast no matter what time it was. The street lights cast weak beams through the haze that was the air.
Danny had to ask for directions several times. Nobody actually gave him real answers.
Then-- like the light at the end of the tunnel-- the BatSignal was lit. A spotlight beam cut through the air and cast a huge Bat-shaped shadow onto the overhead clouds.
Danny almost smiled. He transformed, went invisible and intangible, and flew straight towards the source of the beam.
That was certainly one way to get directions to the police headquarters. And it meant Batman himself would probably be showing up soon.
Danny landed soundlessly on the rooftop of the police building. He let tangibility wash over him, but stayed invisible for now. A cop-- a detective?-- was standing beside the lit signal, smoking a cigarette.
They stayed like that, silent and shadowed, for well over fifteen minutes.
Finally, Batman grappled onto the rooftop. Danny’s eyes widened. He had-- he had never expected to actually meet the man. Not in person.
Would he be that big someday? Though, if Dan was any indication--
“Gordon,” Batman said. His voice was way deeper than Danny had expected. Though maybe he should have expected exactly that. The man was Batman, after all. He was the night.
Would Danny’s voice ever be that deep? He was on puberty blockers, but he was still too young for hormones. You had to be sixteen. Though his parents had said maybe they would DIY it for him.
They kept forgetting, though. And now they were dead.
“Batman,” the cop-- Gordon-- said. “Got a case for you. The Gotham Natural History Museum was robbed last—”
Yeah, okay, this wasn’t an emergency. Danny let go of his invisibility and stepped forward. Gordon jumped, dropped his cigarette, and swore, but Batman himself gave no reaction. Of course.
“I’m your clone,” he blurted out.
Gordon looked between the two of them. “You know what? The case can wait until tomorrow.”
He turned right around and left then.
“Why do you think you’re my clone?” Batman asked.
Danny shrugged. “That was the whole point?” he said. “I was engineered to replace you after you… retire. The world will always need Batman, apparently.”
“I can’t just take your word for it. I need proof.”
Danny thought fast. “Do you want to test my DNA?” he asked. “You can do that, right?”
“I can,” he said. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“So I can grapple us both of the building.”
“Where are we going?” Danny asked, already moving forward.
“The Batcave.” Batman grabbed him and held him tight against his chest. He fired off his grappling gun and leapt off the roof.
Danny did not shriek. Or whoop childishly. He held tight to his template and was a paragon of professionalism.
They glided down to street level easily, and the freaking Batmobile drove itself right up to them. Danny had so many questions. He tamped down on them manfully.
He was here for a purpose. Fanboying over the Batmobile was not it.
“You sit in the back,” Batman said.
“What? Why?”
“It’s safer.”
“Wh-- I’m fourteen!”
Batman grunted. He took his own seat-- the driver’s seat-- and pressed a button to open one of the back doors.
Oh, fuck this.
“I’m not a little kid,” Danny grumbled, getting into the car regardless. “I can sit in the front seat.”
Batman reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a black cloth bag. “Put this over your head.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No.”
Danny rolled his eyes. He snatched the bag out of Batman’s hands and shoved it on over his head. “This is ridiculous. I hope you know that.”
Batman didn’t even respond. He just started driving.
Danny slouched backwards in his seat and folded his arms. This was so stupid. Wasn’t Batman supposed to be cool? This was not cool behavior.
“Batman to all points. Reporting in a situation.”
“Code?” a voice asked over a speaker.
“...There is no code for this.”
“I’m sorry?” a different voice asked. “Are you saying you encountered a situation you genuinely never planned for? You, Batman? The man who is famously always prepared?”
“Hnn.”
“What’s the situation?” the first voice asked.
“I encountered a minor claiming to be my clone.”
There was a beat of silence.
“New sibling?” another voice asked.
“Oh my God. B, what did you say to the kid?”
“The child is currently in the Batmobile. I am taking to the Cave for DNA testing. Batman out.”
Danny heard the click of a button. He assumed Batman turned off the radio transmission.
He drove them around in pointless circles for an entire fucking hour. Finally, the car slowed to a stop. Batman cut the engine.
“Can I take this off now?” Danny asked dryly.
“Yes.”
Danny yanked the black hood off and tossed it at his template. Batman-- of course-- caught it easily and put it back in the glove compartment.
Danny unbuckled his seat belt and scrambled out of the Batmobile. The Batcave, at least, was as cool as expected. It was a massive cavern, with multiple tiers and platforms and levels. Teched out and futuristic. There was a waterfall that tumbled down over jagged rocks to form a pool at the bottom. Guardrails on cliff edges, supersuits inside glass cases. An entire garage area full of bikes and tricked out cars. A massive computer command center that would make Tucker drool.
Danny’s throat tightened.
He looked to Batman. “So. Cheek swab?”
“This way,” his template said. He started marching towards the command center, and Danny followed, and tried to feel nothing.
There were a ton of other vigilantes in the Cave, openly gawking, not even pretending to be busy. Danny recognized them all-- or their uniforms, anyway. He had been routinely quizzed on all the publicly available info about every team Batman was on, especially the Gotham-based heroes. After all, if Danny was going to be Batman 2.0 someday, then he needed to be prepared to lead these people.
Red Robin had a swab kit and container in his hands. “Here,” he said. “Brush this across the inside of your cheek.”
Danny did. He put the wand back in the tube, clicking it into place, and handed it back to the vigilante.
“So! You’re Batman’s clone, huh?” Nighwing asked, a big smile on his face.
“Yeah,” he said.
“I can definitely see the resemblance. What’s your name?”
“Danny.”
“Got a last name?”
“Fenton.”
“So, like, who cloned you? Created you?” the blonde Batgirl asked.
“ARGUS. Um, do you guys know who Amanda Waller is?”
“We’re familiar,” Robin said dryly.
“Listen, Batman, can we talk in private? I have a question for you.”
“Later. You need to be fully debriefed first,” he said. “A rapid forensic DNA comparison test will take approximately two hours to run. I’d like to have a clear picture of your life history by then.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
Danny sighed. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Why do you believe you are my clone?”
“Because my parents told me when I turned ten,” he said. “ARGUS thought that was old enough to be trusted with a major secret. It was the age where they began my training.”
“Your training.”
“Yes.”
“Can you describe that training, bud?” Nightwing asked.
“Martial arts and critical thinking skills, mostly. They also had me memorize the Justice League roster and the Gotham Bats’ roster. Codenames, abilities, known skills, personal rogues. Oh, I had to learn all the Gotham and Justice League enemies, too.”
“Not all of that information is publicly available,” Red Hood said. Danny was a bit surprised he was present, to be perfectly honest. ARGUS’ sources said his ties to the Bats were tenuous at best.
He shrugged. “They taught me everything they could. Bomb disposal, coding, deescalation, diplomacy, everything.”
“With the end goal of replacing me,” Batman said.
“With the understanding that you can’t do this forever,” he corrected.
“Batgirl is my chosen successor.”
The spooky Batgirl nodded.
Danny’s heart dropped into his stomach. Of course Batman had a plan for his own succession. Danny had been superfluous from the day he was born, wasn’t he?
“Look,” he said. “I’m not trying to interfere with anything. I came here because I wanted to talk.”
“Do your parents know where you are right now?” Batman asked, instead of acknowledging anything Danny had just said.
“My parents are dead,” he said flatly.
Red Hood snorted. Just about everyone turned to glare at him.
“Sorry.” He put his hands up. “Waller really thought of everything, though, didn’t she?”
“What?” Danny asked.
“Hood. That’s enough,” Batman said.
“Oh, come off it. He’s gonna find out eventually.”
“Hood does have a point,” Nightwing said. “I think Danny is entitled to at least know the basics.”
“His story is completely unverifi—”
“Batman’s an orphan too,” Blonde Batgirl said. “His parents were killed when he was a little younger than you are. It’s what inspired his mission. Why he became Batman.”
Danny froze. The blood in his veins felt like ice. It took all his self-control not to emanate a chill and ice the Cave around him. He tamped down on his core, hard, and pushed all his emotions neatly into a tightly-closed box.
“Do you think Amanda Waller killed my parents,” he started, “just so that I would have that same experience? To make me more like you?”
“...I think it’s highly possible,” Batman said. “It’s likely your handlers were not informed as to my true identity. They were marked for death as soon as they were assigned to you.”
“My parents,” Danny snapped. “Not my fucking handlers. They were my parents.”
“Your parents,” Batman conceded.
A man in a three-piece suit with actual coattails appeared. He had on a domino mask and was carrying a tray covered with a cloche. He set it down on a nearby circular table, removing the cloche to reveal finger sandwiches, cut vegetables, and cookies.
“I have prepared light refreshments while you all await the test results,” the fancy man said. Danny had no clue who the fuck he was. “Tell me, Master Danny, did you have supper this evening?”
“...No.”
“Very well. Thank you for telling me. I shall return swiftly with some proper food for you.”
“Oh, uh, you don’t have to—”
“I insist.”
And then the fancy man was gone.
“That’s Agent A. You’ll get used to him,” Blonde Batgirl said. Spooky Batgirl nodded.
Danny had heard about Agent A. The mysterious coordinator who operated from within the shadows and seemed to give Batman himself orders. ARGUS had little information on him.
Or at least, that’s what he’d thought. What he’d been taught. But apparently Amanda Waller had known Batman’s secret identity this entire time and just decided not to tell him. Instead, she had killed his parents. To make him more like Batman. To engineer an emotional reaction similar to his template’s. To…
To push him towards Gotham?
Vlad was his godfather. He had custody of Danny. He was supposed to be with him right now, but he had run away as soon as the social worker’s back was turned. The Nasty Burger explosion was as close to becoming Dan as he was going to get, thanks. The last thing he was willing to do was walk down a path to becoming a dictator.
It would be all too easy. For him. With his training, with his powers. His destiny. No, he had to fight it at every step.
And so he ran away rather than go to Vlad’s. And he came to Gotham to fight his destiny.
But maybe all of that had just been another trick. Amanda Waller had been pulling his strings for his entire life. It was possible-- even likely-- that this was all just another manipulation.
Because Batman was an orphan. So that meant Danny needed to be an orphan, too.
He wondered what Batman was thinking now. What his plan for dealing with Danny was. Obviously he’d need to keep tabs on him. Make sure he didn’t become evil, even as he teetered down that path.
Who knows? Maybe Batman would throw him in a Justice League-made cell and keep him locked up forever. Eliminate the risk that his evil clone posed altogether.
Not that any cell could actually hold Danny. They’d need a thermos, to do that.
Maybe he should tell them. Without Sam and Tucker and Jazz, there was no one around to stop him if he went too far, anymore. Amity Park had always had mixed feelings about Phantom, no matter how hard Danny tried. And beyond public perception, there were multiple warrants out for his arrest.
Phantom was considered a villain by the United States government. A supervillain, even, with the sheer magnitude of his power. If the GIW knew he was the Ghost King, he’d be public enemy #1.
“Who is supposed to be watching you right now?” Batman asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Uh. My godfather,” he said. “But I ran away.”
“Oh, he’s a chip off the old block,” Red Hood said.
“What’s your godfather’s name?”
“Vlad. Vlad Masters.”
“The billionaire?” Red Robin piped up from the computer console.
“This is so fucking funny,” Blonde Batgirl said.
“Tell me his phone number,” Batman said.
“You can’t call him!” Danny said.
“Why not?”
“Because then he’ll come here!” he said. “I think there are certain things you’d rather keep private, right? Such as, oh, I don’t know. Your identity?”
“He’s got a point,” Nightwing said. Batman glared at him.
“I’m sure your guardian is very worried about your disappearance,” he said.
“Uhh. Does it… matter?” Danny asked.
Blonde Batgirl snorted. She clapped Batman on the shoulder. “Good luck with this one, B.”
“Hrn.”
Agent A reappeared with another covered tray that he set down on the same table as before. He removed the cloche, and there was a steaming bowl of thick soup, accompanied by garlic breadsticks and a glass of milk. Danny’s stomach growled on cue.
He hadn’t eaten in days. It was fine, though. He got some energy from the ambient ectoplasm in the air, so it wasn’t like he was actually starving.
He sat down at the table quickly. Picked up the spoon, but then glanced back at Agent A, who nodded.
Danny ate, and he swore it was the best food he’d had in his life.
He tuned out his surroundings almost entirely and zeroed in his focus on the food. He ate slow. Careful. The last thing he needed was to puke all this wonderful food back up.
Agent A brought out dessert after he was done, too. A parfait. Fruit and yogurt and jam and whipped cream, served in an elegant sundae glass with a long spoon. Danny nearly died. Again.
Decent food was hard to come by in the Fenton house. Danny was not his parents’ primary research project, so his health and wellbeing was a secondary concern to the study of ectoplasm.
He was a semi-failed experiment. He knew that. He had thought-- hoped-- that…
It doesn’t matter. Apparently, Waller and ARGUS were still interested in him after all. Interested enough to kill off his entire family and all his friends.
Even Val had died in the explosion. She had been the one working the grill.
“Test results are back!” Red Robin called out. Danny snapped to attention. “Congratulations, B, it’s a clone.”
“Can we talk now?” Danny asked.
Batman shook his head. “In the morning. It’s late. You need sleep.”
Danny scowled.
“Oh my God, he does look just like you,” Blonde Batgirl said.
“C’mon, kiddo,” Nightwing said. “Upstairs is this way.”