I think anyone that studies medicine with Damian would lowkey hate his ass.
Not in a mean way, but in a petty why-aren't-you-struggling-like-me type of way. I mean, thanks to Robin and the league Damian is light years ahead of everyone on terms of experience and it would show.
Half the class is puking their guts out the first time they see a patient with an open fracture. Damian has been there, done that, seen that and worse. He's eating m&m's in the back.
They're all practicing making sutures until late. Damian is like "No, I don't need to join you. I could suture with my eyes closed" and then when someone is like "prove it, rich-boy" that mf actually blindfolds his eyes and sutures perfectly using four different techniques.
He also passes everything with flying colors! Because of course, the guy can't just be rich, good looking and famous, he has to be smart too.
And it just gets worse when he starts his actual residency.
Nothing shakes him! Thirty hour shifts? He doesn't even yawn. Extreme stress during a surgery gone awry? Damian is the one telling the other members of the surgical team to stay calm. Violent patient? They don't even get to call security, Damian has the guy pinned already.
And it would be easier to not get jealous of him if he somehow was a souless blood sucking asshole. But Damian is a good person, awkward and standoffish but always willing to help. He's there for whatever people need. He aids nurses, listens to patients, conforts victims. He sits with people for the bad news and when someone dies he gets this sad faraway look that shows he cares.
the fact that Jason formed the outlaws and technically became a well known international vigilante as well as just a Gotham hero is actually so interesting to me. i wanna see an au where Jason just stayed an outlaw and never went back to Gotham at all. never revealed his identity, but became a well known hero with ties to various members of the JLA anyway because of Roy and Kori. eventually, for some reason, Red Hood is asked to become an official member, and then we get the absolutely golden scenario of the smug as shit Red Hood, feet up on the table at the watchtower, unflinchingly staring down the pissed off form of Batman sat opposite, well fucking aware that he is the only member of the JLA that Bruce won’t be able to figure out the identity of. it is driving Bruce NUTS and Jason is having the time of his life.
meanwhile Constantine is sat in the corner, head bouncing back and forth between them, fully aware of everything, content to watch shit go down only because 1: its funny and 2: Jason bought him a smoothie
i just wanna see anonymous JLA member Red Hood dancing circles around Batman due to his secret identity and immense knowledge/experience of fucking with B, and absolutely nobody can figure out how he does it.
dick being an extremely flexible acrobat is actually so underused because really there should be at least one panel of him in bridge position crawling backwards at some goons in the dark and freaking them the fuck out so hard they never return to that musty warehouse. it's empty to this day
I like to think that thanks to Jason's death, Dick's hair became straighter and let it grew bacause he couldn't care less. He was trying to be a good brother to Tim tho, and Timmy was trying to also be a good brother but you know, he was doing the best a little kid could know.
Clark Kent is firmly in his civilian persona.
This is a problem, given that the airplane he's on with Lois is about to collide with another plane on the runway.
He can see the other plane about to t-bone them, and is fully prepared to...somehow fumble his way through an explanation as to why he disappeared and superman took his place, but the meta kid sitting next to him has a different idea.
The meta kid let's out a strangled shriek, grips the armrests of the seat, and the entire plane goes intangible.
The other plane delicately just...glides through their plane, and everyone on their plane and everyone on the other plane just stare at each other as they pass by in horrified silence.
The people seated where the other planes engines are passing through harmlessly initially let out a few terrified screams, but they taper off when they realize that nothing is happening.
Then it's over.
The kid, hyperventilating, lets go of the armrests once the other plane has completely cleared them, and immediately goes for one of those little baggies to empty the contents of his stomach.
His nose is bleeding, his ears are bleeding, and he looks dazed. He clearly overdid it.
Clark is running a hand up and down his back, trying to get him comfortable, while the other passengers and crew stare at the kid in awe.
After all, there's only one person acting like this after something as insane as making every single person intangible. It has to be the kid. The kid has to be a meta, and that meta just saved all of them.
But the kid peeks up at Clark, eyes full of fear, and says something that makes his heart drop into his stomach.
Due to Danny's ghostly nature, he misunderstands a bit when his DOOMED buddy in Gotham complains about his little brother.
The guy is clearly just blowing off steam, talking about how can he trust the little demon when he'd literally been stabbed, thrown off a banister (danny was pretty sure he was gonna say something else), got Mufasa'd (dropped from the roof and barely managed to save himself), and talked shit like, constantly.
And Danny, with all of his ghost instincts only partially tucked away behind human skin, can't help but coo.
"Aww, he must really like you man."
"...He's tried to kill me."
"But not really? Dude, why aren't you picking up on this?"
"Picking up on what? That he wants to be an only child?"
"No, dude; that he wants to fight you. Like, in a learning way, with only a little bloodshed. Man you're bad with kids. Of course he's trying to stab you, he wants to play."
His friend pauses, the character he's playing stopping midfight.
Nervous forced laughter came through the gaming headset.
“Whaddaya mean? Of course I’m human.”
“If you say so,” Tim replied quickly before continuing the game. “You’re my friend either way, Friend.”
LaikasFriend made a strangled little noise in the back of his throat that tried to sound positive while his avatar on-screen fell into a pit trap.
The two boys had got close through Doomed over the last year, starting with Tim asking about his username.
“Laika as in the dog?” he’d asked, which started Friend on a long rant about how Laika Deserved Better but at least she’s having fun watching over us now, chasing comets like tennis balls and rolling in the aurora-borealis like fresh mown grass. It was sweet that someone cared so strongly about a creature long since dead. Tim hadn’t really felt that level of passion for anything in a long time and it was refreshing to remember it existed in the world.
Most people in the game shortened his name to ‘Laika’ when playing, and he would always correct them, “I’m not Laika! I’m her friend! It says so right there! Can’t you read?!” and one day Tim said it with him in unison, word for word with the exact tone inflection, just because he heard it so much. Tim had laughed at Friend’s sputtering so hard he had a coughing fit. That’s when they started getting close.
“Humans aren’t the only people on this planet, though, and I know for a fact several play video games. I bet we’ve competed against non-humans frequently enough.”
“You say that so confidently I could almost believe you know several,” Friend replied, trying to sound casual and failing, still fumbling his avatar through the level. Tim had waited for him to re-spawn.
“Who says I don’t?”
“For real?”
“Sure. I’ve told you before I lived in a bunch of different cities for a while? One was Jump City, and the Titans weren’t shy about just walking down the street to grab a pizza. They’d hang out at the arcade sometimes and answer questions if the person wasn’t being a bigot.”
“YOU met the Titans?!”
“Is that so surprising? Lots of people have. Heroes all over the place stop and chat. It’s absolutely guaranteed you’ll have lunch with The Flash if you ever go to Central City. Even if he’s just stealing your fries before you can stop him, the speedy bastard,” Tim mumbled the last part but Friend still laughed.
It was nice to hear him laugh properly. Tim had been scared he’d cut the session short and ghost him for a while for asking if he wasn’t human. Friend would sometimes run off mid-game, shouting a quick “sorry gotta go bye!” without any explanation when he returned up to a week later and Tim was dying to ask but it always got awkward when he did. So he stopped trying to snoop. Mostly. Just because he couldn’t ask direct questions didn’t mean he couldn’t keep track of the strange things Friend said or implied. Which was a lot. He made a spreadsheet.
This time his thoughts finally just fell out of his mouth. He’d been ranting about Damian for so long he forgot to censor himself fully. It was just… what kind of person stabs others to play? Not humans, that’s for sure! Tim had met several alien races that were much more durable than human-kind and their forms of play and rough-housing could sure look violent to human eyes but they didn’t try to kill each other for fun! Kon and Kara could destroy whole warehouses just playing tag but they never brought out Kryptonite knives.
No, Friend had a culture he hadn’t encountered yet with very strange customs and expectations.
“Look,” Tim sighed and finally decided to just put it out there, “You don’t need to say anything you don’t want, but I know for a fact I’m human and despite me calling him a little demon, my brother is also human last I checked. All the humans I know don’t try out murder just for funsies. Your family might have some really intense traditions, sure, but the baby brat isn’t doing this to play.”
There was a long silence through the headset. And Friend’s avatar hadn’t moved in a while. Tim was starting to think he’d gone too far when Friend finally spoke.
“When was the last time you checked?”
His voice gave Tim goosebumps. Something had changed. He still sounded the same but… cold. Dead serious. So far removed from his usual silly banter and puns.
“What do you mean?” Tim whispered.
“Not everyone born human stays human. And everything you’ve said about your brother in the last hour sounds… familiar.”
Holy shit.
Tim was right.
LaikasFriend wasn’t human. Maybe he had been once, but Tim was finally going to get answers. And he suddenly had a lot on his plate with new theories concerning Damian that would upset the rest of the family. Damn, this wasn’t going to be pretty.
“I think we should move to a more secure line for the rest of this conversation.”
“I agree,” Friend sighed. Then echoed Tim’s exact thoughts by groaning, “Oh Ancients why can’t I ever catch a break?”
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