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."
"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.
"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.
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.
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