Clone^2 Damian
If you really think about, Damian's situation in the clone^2 au is... kinda tragic? Especially in the early months of his arrival. Like,,, think about it. Damian has always known he was a clone of Damian Wayne, that he was a copy of the blood son. There was nothing 'original' about him, not even his name (of which at least Danny has that). He was just... a replacement. A disposable one, to boot.
And he knew that, to an extent, by the time he was six years old. he might not have been actively acknowledging it -- he's six years old -- but deep down he knew. And like, he's six years old. Every small child craves the love and affection of an adult, especially their parents, and even though he knew he was clone, I imagine he still considered - and still does consider, somewhat - Talia and Bruce as his mother and father. And I really doubt he was... getting it?
Now, I know Talia loves Damian, her son. At least in some interpretations she does, and in this au she does. But... a clone of her son? I'm not so certain if she would have the same affection for baby Dames as she would for Damian. I don't think she would treat him badly, but I don't think Talia would treat him warmly either. Kinda just, distant. Colder than she would have been with OG Damian.
And, I know I've mentioned Damian's arrival from Danny's point of view, and its kind of comical kind of insane from his perspective -- a little boy clone of Damian Wayne falls through a portal and immediately attacks him. That sounds like a bad joke.
But, if you think of this from Damian's point of view? It's like he just got dropped into a scary movie. Like, think about it. You're six years old, and suddenly a portal, as green and as swirling as your grandfather's pools, opens up beneath your feet and sucks you through.
After an intense bout of vertigo, you end up in a massive, urban city -- completely different from the rural mountain palace that you lived in for the last six years of your life, and in this city, you don't know any of the language. You don't know what anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs - you are completely stranded, away from home.
And then, to make things worse, you're facing a figure with a terrifying mask and eyes as burning green as the portal you fell through. Of course Damian's first instinct, six years old, is to attack. He's terrified.
And this figure, he's not a good fighter, but he's fast, and he dodges you quickly. He grabs your sword with his hands, and tries to restrain you, saying something in a language you don't know. Naturally, Damian is just scared. He's six! He'd just be learning how to read if he was normal child going to school.
This figure halfway through the fight yanks off his mask -- he realizes you're scared -- and looking at you now, is a youthful version of your father. This is a clone of your dad, someone you have never met but, six years old, still wants to. Damian gets defensive. This is an imposter.
But this imposter eventually gets you home with him - and he's using his little box, his phone, to communicate with you through a mechanical voice speaking in arabic. and it's frustrating. The boy, the imposter, can say whatever to you just fine, but trying to talk back is a hassle and a half. He's six, he doesn't have that much patience.
He wants to go home.
And so he keeps trying to run away. He keeps trying to find out of this hellish concrete jungle, and he keeps getting lost. It's loud, and busy, and there are people talking to you and you don't understand them, and there are rules and signs you don't understand - Damian tries to cross the street and nearly gets hit by a car. He doesn't know how the road signs work, he was never taught. They didn't get to that.
And he gets lost. And it gets dark, and Damian is brave, but he is six, and this is the worst stress he's been under in all his six years of life. He wants, desperately more than anything, to go home. Why wouldn't he? The only stable... semi-stable environment he was in just got ripped out from under his feet, literally! He wants his mother.
And it's not happening.
But there's something good to be said, at least. The imposter that looks like his father always comes and finds him, no matter what. He could have left that morning, and he will find Damian at midnight, frazzled and worried, and carrying an extra jacket with him because it is cold in Amity Park and Damian is six years old.
And sometimes Damian attacks him - he's scared and stressed and he doesn't want to be here. And every time he catches the sword. Even though Damian can see it cut into his hand and pearls of blood well up and stains his fingers. Even though Damian can see him wince in pain and bite his lip, he still catches it.
But with that little box, he coaxes Damian to come back with him. It's cold, it's dark, Amity Park is unsafe at night. They can figure something out tomorrow, please. And every time, he agrees, reluctantly. And the imposter takes the extra jacket he brought with -- a flannel, a hoodie, a jacket -- and he wraps it around him. It's warm, Damian's clothes are not that thick, and even though he thinks he might hate this imposter, he still sticks close to his legs as he leads him down the street.
And sometimes the imposter carries him, because Damian's shoes are not that thick, and he cuts his foot on broken glass while they're walking home. The imposter sits in the bathroom with him and carefully cleans the cut out, and makes sure it doesn't get infected.
There's hope you know, he still has it. His mother will be looking for him. She'll be worried. He's important to them. Damian may not be the original, but he is still a blood son. He is still her son. She will come find him. This nightmare will end soon. He can go home.
And then weeks pass, and nothing. Then months, and nothing. His family is not coming for him, and it hurts. Hurts more than anything. And yet while that happens, the boy he's attacked, and hurt, teaches himself arabic in order to speak to him. He takes Damian out of the house one afternoon and buys him new clothes, or tries to. And then he keeps buying him new clothes. He gives him blankets and gives up his bed to him until they can get him one himself, and steadily he teaches Damian english.
This boy is kind. Kinder than Damian's ever experienced, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He's devastated by the fact that he is not as important to his family as his family is to him. What do you do when you're six years old and you learn something like that? When a random stranger who looks like your father is kinder to you, and cares more about you than your family did?
And then Damian tells him he's a clone. He's Damian Wayne's clone, and he tells him his purpose - that their grandfather made him to kill him. And the boy, the imposter, Damian thinks he probably already knows that he's a clone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods, and asks him if he wants to tell his original about him.
Damian says no. He doesn't want to. He's tired of living in the shadow of his original. He wants to keep this to himself. This is his. For once, all of this is his.
And to his surprise, the imposter doesn't try and convince him otherwise. He just nods, and says okay. And when Damian asks why, the imposter - his brother - looks at him and says.
"I don't care about Damian Wayne. I care about you." And in Damian's gobsmacked silence, his brother continues. He tells him that if Damian doesn't want to tell his original that he exists, then they don't need to. They don't need to worry about the LoA going after him, because clearly if his 'grandfather' needs to make a clone of Damian in order to take him out, then whatever it was that Damian Wayne was doing to keep himself safe, was working.
"Wayne already has people in his corner, he's got Gotham's army of vigilantes to keep himself safe." his brother says with his eyes as blue as moonlight. "You, however. Do not." And he continues, and says that if Damian Wayne has the same training as Damian does, then he will be fine. He doesn't need to be aware of his clone. Because if DW doesn't know about Damian, then the LoA doesn't either.
And here's the thing. Damian would not have survived in the LoA for long. Not as a clone. No matter what, he was going to die no matter what he did, and sooner rather than later. The sword of Damocles was always hanging above his head in the League of Assassins.
That portal, and meeting Danny, saved his life. There's no way around it. And to an extent Damian knows this even at six years old. He may not be aware that he would've died, but he knows that meeting Danny was the best thing to happen to him.
It's no wonder after that, that Damian is as clingy to Danny as he is. Danny is the first person he's met to offer him unconditional love, with no strings attached, only pure affection.
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My Graveyard Song Ch. 14
(Totally got distracted and forgot to post this to tumblr. It's been up on ao3 for a few days now)
[Masterpost]
Jason looked at the two empty bowls and one empty plate of food Danny had polished off and promptly decides to take him to Rosa Lee’s Diner. They always serve extra large portions of food that stands up to even Alfred’s high standards.
As he urges Spooky into one of the jackets left by his siblings, he shoots a text off to Cass.
[BCC plz 4 Spooky u wel 2 IOU 1 🏠🍝 ur chc]
By the time Cass gets there, Danny is starting on his third plate. Mind you, she got here in under half an hour and Danny is not in fact a speedster, but at the rate Danny is going, Bruce is certainly going to think someone fed a speedster.
Jason is really not sure where all this food is going. By all rights, his spooky friend should be on the verge of exploding from eating more than his body weight in food.
Even the waitstaff are watching this little meta-looking kid down pounds and pounds of food.
Cass passes Jason an unmarked black credit card and sits next to him in order to better watch Danny scarf down his waffles.
Five minutes later when their waiter swings by, Jason orders a platter of beignets and Danny orders Rosa Lee’s own personal special, a breakfast that comes with four slices of ham, a mountain of cheesy scrambled eggs, two pancakes, four breakfast sausage links, two biscuits, and an apple turnover.
At this point, the waiter doesn’t even blink, just asks if he’d like anything to add or substitute.
He asks for 3 extra pancakes.
By the time he's halfway through his stack of pancakes -the last thing left of his Rosa Lee Special- it dawns on Jason, that maybe Danny shouldn't be eating this much when he hasn't eaten regular human food in a long time.
But then again, what does he know? The world is a great big mysterious place and you cannot treat every humanoid looking being by the limitations of humans.
Danny is watching him now, an openly curious look on his face. There's a question in the air between them, even Cass picks up on it.
Carefully slow, Danny sets down his fork and finishes chewing the bite in his mouth.
"You're worried," he croaks, tapping his index finger on the table to emphasize his words.
He pauses, distracted, and looks down at his hand, repeating the motion of tapping his finger on the table while studying it closely. Jason almost breaks into laughter when Danny’s head tilts in an oddly animal like fashion.
If he needed any other proof that Spooky the dog is Danny the spirit sitting before him, this would do it.
His glowing eyes flick back up to Jason.
"Amused," he rasps out barely above a whisper. There's still that unspoken question in the air.
It finally clicks. The emotions Danny is naming are Jason’s. The question he wants to know is 'why'.
"I wasn't sure if you could get sick from overeating. Humans need to ease back into eating normal amounts but you're not human so I don't know what standard to hold you to."
Danny nods absently, his finger tap tap tapping away on the table.
"Hard to say," he says finally. His voice still sounds like gravel, not unlike Cass' own voice.
"Ecto fills in gaps. A temporary fix. Rebuilding with the right stuff now." He gestures vaguely to the empty plates stacked on their table. "Ecto is fast. I'm probably fine."
"Sorry," Jason half mumbles. "I just worry."
All movement from Danny freezes, like someone pressed pause on the TV. His eyes go wide in realization and alarm.
"Jazz..."
Jason blinks and then it hits him with the speed and force of a freight train.
"Oh shit! Jazz!" He scrambles for his phone. "Do you remember anything else about her that might help?!"
~•~
Bill would like everyone to know that he works very hard to be a good hench person.
He's not dumb. Now he may not be book smart like half the big baddies in Gotham, but he's not dumb.
He would have died long ago if that were the case. He's worked for the Red Hood for a couple years now —it's one of the best decisions he's ever made; the guy knows how to treat his hench people. What more can Bill say?— and he's avoided asking questions just like with all his hench jobs before this.
But he'd really like to ask one now that he's stuck watching years worth of security footage...
What even constitutes suspicious activity in a cemetery?
Now most people would automatically say, graverobbing, but Big Red is a Gotham native. In Gotham, no one is buried with their valuables, not unless your grave is in a super secret spot. Gothamites can smell money and anytime there's a possibility of it, people will dig up the grave in question.
Hell, the cops don't even stop for it anymore, they just keep on rollin' even if it's happening right before their eyes.
Point is, graverobbing can't be the suspicious behavior he's supposed to look for, but Bill really isn't sure what exactly does quantify as suspicious behavior to Big Red.
Everything here has been run of the mill, graverobbing, teen/young adult vandalism, or drug deals.
Yes, he considers goth teens/young adults having sex in a cemetery as vandalism too. Vandalism on his eyes, if nothing else.
He hits pause on a big white van and rubs his eyes tiredly. Perhaps it's time to call it a night. He's losing focus, getting caught up in his own thoughts.
His hand hovers over the mouse about to drag it over to close out of the program when his brain catches up to what his eyes are seeing.
The van, big, white, armored...
Now that IS unusual. Black or gray vans are the favored colors in Gotham and anyone, who knows anything about Gotham, knows that you NEVER armor up a suspicious color and type of vehicle. Not if you don't want the cops and vigilantes breaking down your door.
He can just make out two people in bright colors inside the van. They're grainy but not grainy enough for Bill to doubt the color of their outfits.
It's too bright for any regular gothamite. The only people in this city who dress like that are the big shot villains and their cronies.
The two disappear into the cemetery, out of sight of the camera with tools in hand. He scans forward a few hours (less time than he expected honestly) and slows back to normal speed just in time to watch them unload what seems to be some sort of coffin, except it's metal with glowing lines and patterns on it.
He pauses the video again and with elbows resting upon the desk he presses clasped hands against his mouth to muffle his sigh.
Well, if that doesn't constitute suspicious activity then Bill will hand in a letter of resignation and go flip burgers.
Well...time to let the boss know.
Yall thought I made up the part where Bill the Henchman comes in, but I definitely, absolutely had this planned from the beginning. [Lying]
Okay, gonna be honest, I may have had a plan for Bill, but it either was lost in the shuffle or there never actually was a plan for scenes with Bill. Considering I can only sometimes keep my dream memories from mixing with my awake memories, any hope of recovering any potential memories is nigh on impossible.
HOWEVER
I can always make new plans. AND I HAVE! So yes, we have Bill now and I'm going to pretend like this was planned all along.
Oh yeah! So Jason’s text at the beginning says: Black credit card please, for Spooky. You are welcome too. I owe you one homemade meal, your choice.
Also can you imagine being a vigilante? Bc you have at least 10 very important things you have to juggle on just an average Tuesday. This is not including sudden family disasters like a family member getting trapped in a burning building and having to go save them, plus more wild revelations about your funky supernatural roomie. So like, cut a guy some slack, I know I'd be floundering some days. Attempting to prioritize must really be a bitch some days. Just...oof...
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