It was only supposed to be a simple mission. Red Robin and Nightwing were sent to investigate some magical ruins that might have a lead on one of thier shared cases. Kon had practically begged to come along since he and Tim hadn't seen eachother in a while. Nightwing didn't see a problem with it so off they went.
It was later that night when they were asleep in thier tents (Timm was forced to sleep via the power of kons puppy dog eyes) that something strange happened.
---
Phantom wobbled a bit in flight. He didn't know where or when he was. He had just escaped his parents after they saw Vlad transform and in a fit of rage, Vlad outed Danny too.
Vlad was killed pretty quickly. But Danny? They tried to "fix" Danny. It was only thanks to Jazz freeing him that he could bolt into the Ghost Zone and disappear. And bolt he did. He went so far so fast that he didn't even notice when he re-entered the living realms and just kept going.
Not wanting to make his situation worse, he decided to bed down for the night. His wounds weren't exactly healed but they were closed and that was what really mattered. He phased the blood out of his clothes as he silently approached a camp. Thier fire was out, properly drenched too. Danny had a thought to swipe some food but decided not to. Not out of morality, desperate times and all that, but because he physically couldn't muster up the energy to do anything more than curl up on the grass and pass out from exhaustion.
Needless to say when Tim wakes up the next morning and sees what appears to be a younger version of himself curled up outside he freaks out. He sneakily snags a sample and compared it to his own DNA and, suprise! Its a match. Aside from the obvious marks of cloning in his genetic structure and this odd unknown element sticking to it he was a perfect match for Tim Drake Wayne.
Nightwing woke up to find Tim standing over his unconscious mini and muttering about him being a dad. Dick was glad he packed that expensive coffee. They were all going to need it.
Kon was just excited to be an uncle.
Hmmmmm. Hurt first, comfort later.
Experience with the Demon Brat's clones tells Tim not to trust this one bit. This may look like some scrawny 14 year old in an oversized hoodie and loose jeans... without shoes. But he had somehow found their campsite. In the middle of the woods somewhere just south of Canada. Where only Batman should know they'd be.
And the clone apparently stumbled in in the middle of the night and... decided to take a nap? On the cold, hard, wet ground? But this could all be a ploy. A tactic to get them to let their guards down.
Tim does the only sensible thing he can think to in that moment. He warily keeps an eye on the clone as he silently reaches for his toolbelt. Muscle memory guides him right to the pouch he's looking for. The small gun shoots a tiny dart full of sedative into the sleeping clone and Tim breathes a sigh of relief knowing it should be at least a couple hours before he wakes up.
He takes off the hoodie, finding a long sleeve tee underneath, and frisks the clone for any weapons or tech, not finding so much as a phone and frowning at the way he can feel bones and precious little fat under the thin fabric. Wherever this clone came frown, they obviously weren't being treated very well. Not that that clears him of any malintent. But it is something to keep in mind for later if they can prove the clone means no harm.
For now, Tim focuses on gently tying the clone up, enough to restrain but not hurt. Then picks the clone up (and Tim is fairly certain even he shouldn't have been so light at this age) and moves him to a small tree he can tie the ropes to. Just another precaution, so the clone can't try to run or lunge at one of them. Finally, with the clone restrained and ready for interrogation as soon as he wakes up, Tim goes to rouse the others.
Dick is going to give Tim such a kicked puppy look when he explains. Kon might too what with his personal connection mistreated clones. But Tim will explain and they'll understand the necessity for such safeguards.
.
Danny wakes up. Slowly at first, with heavy limbs at awkward angles. He tries to adjust his position only to find thick ropes holding him in place. That shoots an icy burst of adrenaline through him that wakes his muscles up all at once. His mind, unfortunately, remains a bit sluggish. Danny knows the aftereffects of a tranquilizer when he feels them. He's had enough experience by now.
If he were capable of more lucid thought at the moment, he might realize the ropes are not ghost proof ropes. That he could just phase through them and disappear. But as it stands panic seizes in his chest and freezes all rationale as the fear sinks in that he's been caught again. When legs appear in front of him, someone crouching down to his eye level, he doesn't process the body or... mask? they belong too. The black suit, blue bird, the domino; none of them register. It has to be hunters. Only hunters would tie him up. It has to be his, it has to be Maddie and Jack. Only they could have tracked him down.
Words are coming out of his mouth before he can even think them, desperation bleeding into and pouring out of him. He can't go back. He knows. It won't be death. It will be so, so much worse than that.
"Please. No more. Can't fix me. Don't fix me. Stop trying. Let me go. Please just let me go."
A hand lands on his shoulder and Danny is pretty sure his heart stutters to a stop. Someone behind him makes some sort of noise. Danny can't process what it means as terror throws everything else out the window. The desperate need not to go back to pain overwrites even basic survival instinct as his hysterics turn to screams.
"KILL ME! JUST KILL ME! NO MORE FIXING!MAKE IT END! MAKE IT STOP! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME! KILL ME!"
The figure crouched in front of him lands on his ass and scrambles backwards. Glowing, toxic green eyes glaze over as tears run down Danny's face. He's thrashing in his binds, too panicked to realize they are straining, heavy rope snapping. Only as he lurches forward, face slamming into mud and rocks, does Danny realize he's free. He stumbles to his feet, intent on turning tail and running, but barely makes it 4 steps before a something small and sharp finds the back his neck.
As the familiar sensation of tranquilizers flood his system, Danny hits the forest floor again. Crying all the harder now, he twitches and trembles, muscles turning to jello while his adrenaline response tries to get him back on his feet. It's no use. Darkness invades his vision as 2, no 3, people slowly approach. Slurred pleas for death or mercy, and they're really the same thing at this point, continue to spill out of him even is he succumbs to sedatives.
.
3 vigilantes carefully approach the twitching clone, begging to 'just be killed' even in his involuntary nap. They're all three understandably shaken, though Tim is more shaky than the others. Kon seems enraged more than anything else. And Dick is too focused on taking charge to really panic right now.
"Nightwing to Batcave, anyone read me?"
"I read you Nightwing, what's your status?" Huh, Bruce's Batdad senses must have tingled.
"Did you happen to be watching our domino feed just now?"
"No. Did something happen?"
"I... recommend you watch the footage. Start about 5 minutes ago. I'll fill in the gaps afterwards."
"Nightwing"
"We're fine. No one... none of us are hurt. But we're extracting early. With a guest." Tim and Kon glance at him. Bruce sighs, sending a staticky mess over the comm line.
"Pulling footage. You will explain everything as soon as I've watched."
"Yep!" The forced cheer would be obvious even to people that hadn't spent years with Dick. While Bruce watches the clip, Tim and Kon start pulling down the camp. Dick starts checking the kid so reminiscent of Baby Bird over for injuries.
And thats... there's a lot. There's a lot of injuries there. New and old and scarred. But he can't focus on them right now. They'll catalog all the ways this clone has so clearly been abused later. Dick just needs to make sure nothing is broken or bleeding right now. Then get Kon and Tim and Tim's clone back to base. Then go from there. Right now it's all about getting home.
They had to keep the clone sedated while they hiked 4 hours back to the extraction point, where Bruce was waiting with the Batwing. And sedated some more on the 3 hour flight back to the cave. And given the lack of medical equipment available in dense forest and the stealth plane, keeping the clone sedated basically meant shooting him with another tranq every 80 minutes or so. Even though Dick knew those darts should be lasting at least 3 if not 4 hours.
So, yeah, just go ahead and throw enhanced metabolism on top of the super strength the clone had displayed breaking out of the ropes. And the healing factor that made the scrapes he'd gotten from 2 faceplants in the woods disappear almost immediately. And whatever else he had going on with the Lazarus eyes that seemed to evoke panic rather than the standard rage. Oh, and lets not forget wondering how he found them, how he didn't trigger any security measures around the camp, and how he'd survived sleeping without shelter or protection in the northern backwoods of Minnesota in October.
This was fine. This was totally fine. Dick was fine. This was a totally normal day for a vigilante. Someone just cloned his baby brother is all. And made that clone a meta. And abused him. And either sent him, abandoned him, or he escaped. And found his progenitor. And begged them to kill him.
Begged Nightwing to kill him.
In his baby brother's voice.
With his baby brother's face.
But Dick was fine. Right now he had to be fine. Because right now his baby brother needed him. The baby brother who had been cloned. Without his knowledge or consent. Who had just been trying to protect them, and himself, by tying the clone up. Who didn't know. Who'd had to listen to his own (younger) voice; watch his own gaunt (prepubescent) face; beg for death like it would be a mercy.
Dick was fine. Because right now Tim very much was not. He'd stared at the clone the whole way back. And had spent the last hour staring through the glass into medbay where Dr. Thompkins had recently finished her full medical exam.
She had noted several things. Weak, slow heartbeat. Low body temperature. Obvious malnutrition. Muscle atrophy the likes of which she said she'd only seen on patients who had been bedridden for months. Old lichtenburg figures that ran up the left arm and condensed on his chest. Other scarring that suggested something more along the lines of experimentation than basic physical abuse. Which Dick had already gathered of course. He'd been the one to check for injuries back there. He'd seen what lied under that loose long sleeve tee. Even if he hadn't, still couldn't, let himself process the sight just yet.
Dick could process later. Tim needed him right now. So like the good big brother he tries so hard to be, Dick draped himself over his trembling, crying, staring sibling. "Hey Baby Bird."
"I didn't mean to hurt him."
"I know. We all know. It's okay."
"...No. He's not."
"He will be. We'll help him."
"He was so scared. He... I think he thought we were someone else."
"You don't think he knew us?"
"I don't think he could see us. Too panicked. He said things. Like we would know what he meant. No more fixing. Begged us to stop. Begged us to k-" His baby brother choked off, unable to say it. Dick wrapped his arms around the smaller vigilante, hugging him and swaying gently.
"We're gonna find them. We're gonna make sure this never happens again." Tim is quiet for a long moment before speaking again, voice wavering with guilt and fear and something anxious.
"He came from me. Does that mean I'm, that he's, is he my-"
"You're 19, Timmy. And he's like, 12. If anything, you're his big brother. Nothing more. And not that if you don't want to be." Tim deflates, obviously relieved.
"Not ready to be a father. Not even circumcised... But I can be a brother. If he wants me to be." The first half of that comment was so bizarre, it took a moment to process before startling a laugh out of Dick. By the time the second half hits, the mood is already lighter.
"I came over here to cheer you up!" Tim flashed a small smile, still not taking his eyes of the clone.
"Figured we can cheer each other up." Dick shakes his head.
"I'm fine, Tim."
"Bullshit." Dick frowns. "I know damn well how much it had to hurt you seeing, hearing that. It would have fucked you up if he was a random stranger. For it to be my clone. A replica of me..." Tim trails off pointedly. Dick squeezes him tighter, finally allowing his own gaze to trail through the glass onto the kid.
There are machines in the room but he's not hooked up to anything. And since they have no idea what he can or might do if he panics again, B had begrudgingly put him in power suppression cuffs. 2 pair, each linked around one wrist and one side of the bed. Just until they could talk to him, convince him not to fight or flee.
No one liked it, least of all Tim who was usually all for taking whatever cautionary measures were deemed necessary. But it was for the kid's own good in the long run. They couldn't help him or find who did this if he ran away. It still sucked. But hopefully they could take them off soon. It looked like he was waking up.
.
Danny woke up.
That in and of itself wasn't good. Because it meant they hadn't listened. They hadn't shown him mercy.
At this point, Danny wondered if they were really trying to "fix" him anymore or if they were just doing this for the science or maybe even for the twisted sense of revenge on an entity they believed had stolen their son. Whatever their reasoning was, Danny was still alive, and none to happy about it.
He tensed, waiting for the onslaught of agony as whatever twisted thing they were undoubtedly doing to him finally registered. But. It didn't come. There was no pain. Well, he was a bit sore from earlier, but no new pain. So he tried to take stock of himself and his surroundings.
He was lying on something soft. As soon as that registered, Danny couldn't help but sink into it. Soft, warmth, comfort. A bed. So different from the cold stainless steel table that had been his world for the 2 months it took Jazz to find him in the lab M-addie and Jack had commandeered from the fruitloop.
They hadn't wanted to take him back to Amity. They knew Jazz would let him go first chance she got. She had been a 'sympathizer' for months before.
It had been so long since Danny had known such pleasantries, he's sure a few tears slipped out of his closed eyes. After several seconds just reveling in simple bliss before continuing his mental assessment.
He was on a bed, (a bed! with a pillow and blanket!) and his mind was mostly clear so tranqs were worn off. But his limbs still felt heavy. His whole body felt heavy. And exhausted. Danny didn't think he had the energy for any of his ghost powers right now. Not even the easy ones like intangibility or flight. And, oh, those weights around his wrists weren't the blanket. But they didn't feel ghost proof. Ghost proof stuff made his core feel weak and fluttery, and made his skin buzz and itch like there were insects swarming him. These just made him feel drained.
Danny pulled his wrists slightly, feeling the resistance after just a couple centimeters.
Okay, so, power suppression cuffs attached in some way to the bed he was on. His ankles felt free. But still, with the power suppression making him feel like a sack of bricks, it was unlikely Danny could go anywhere.
But he was on a bed. A bed was good. A bed spoke of people who believed he warranted comfort. Not the GIW or Hunters like his- Maddie and Jack. They still might not be good people, but as long as they weren't anti-ghost people, maybe Danny still had a chance.
Personal assessment complete, Danny finally turns his sense to beyond the area immediately around him. Just in time to hear a door open and a few pairs of feet walk in. He opens his eyes to a white room and briefly tenses, wondering if this is a GIW lab after all. Then, when his eyes land on who has walked in, he's tense for a whole other reason.
Nightwing, Red Robin, and The Batman are all watching him. Danny's mind is spinning knots trying to guess what the superheros intentions are with him. Was that their camp he stumbled in to? Do they think he was there to hurt them? Do they think he's a meta? Do they know he's a ghost? Is Batman gonna turn him over to the GIW? He is with the Justice League, so isn't he technically obligated too?
No one says anything for a long moment and panic tries to seize in Danny's chest again. Then, Nightwing is grinning, speaking with what Danny can tell is forced calmness and cheer.
"Hey kiddo! How ya feeling?" It takes several moments for Danny to process that the question is directed at him, then he shrugs. Nightwing takes his noncommittal answer in stride.
"Well, are you in any pain?" Danny shakes his head. Actually, he's in quite a bit of pain from his prior injuries. And the suppression cuffs are negating his healing factor. But Danny's pain tolerance is ridiculously high by now, so really, he's fine. Nightwing... doesn't seem to believe him. Batman speaks this time, voice low and gravelly, yet soft and gentle for some reason.
"We didn't want to give you anything more without your knowledge and consent. Regretfully, we already had to keep you sedated on the way back to Gotham."
Danny's chest seized again with the new info. He was in Gotham now. Probably in the Batcave. With Batman. Who had yet unknown intentions with Danny. On the plus side, he was very very very far away from a castle in Wisconsin. So if he could get away, he'd probably have at least a few days to disappear before hi- Maddie and Jack could start effectively tracking him.
Something hollow opens up in the pit of Danny’s stomach.
“Did you check for trackers?” He curls in on himself as much as he can. “Please, please tell me you checked.”
