Sew Ourselves Shut
dcxdp fic idea
Danny didnt know how it started exactly. The exact moment his life had changed from NASA bound to this. (flashing light. soul being shredded and stitched back together for infinity in the span of a second). But one moment he was fighting ghosts and getting beat up and the next he was learning to stich wounds closed and what needle went best with which thred on which material. and then he was helping Red fix her suit when it got torn during a fight. (Dont let them see. Cant let them know). Then he was helping Sam fix her skirt when it got an unfortunate tear during an attack. Then he was fixing Dash's jersey before a game and Paulina was crying in the bathroom because her dress got a stain and before Danny knew it she was half naked in the bathroom while he improvised something to sew over the stain and he was more focused on the dress than the girl.
and now he was here.
In a little, easy to miss, hole in the wall, making a hero suit for Batman's kid. A guy a little older than he was when he first started ("No kid heros Batman. You and your team want my services? No kid heros. I see any on any of your teams or their affiliates' and were going to have problems" and if Danny's eyes flashed and the tempereture dropped just a smidge or three causing the detective to swallow hard, then so be it- "No child heros. You have my word")
It hadn't been as hard as one would expect, becoming the go-to tailor for those whose jobs required extensive outfits and more than a but of discretion. He'd started by upgrading a few firefighters suits to make them less likely to catch on falling debrie. Then a few nurses scrubs when their patients got a little rowdy during treatment. He fixed, he mended, he improvised, he improved. He saw little details and made improvents that the wearers never knew was needed. Tiny things, like extra pockets or reenforced buttons.
And then Oliver Queen stumbled into his shop with a busted lip, a torn jacket, a definietly not stained with blood- shirt (it wasn't HIS blood) , and what was definetly not a bullet hole through his messenger bag (it was from an arrow). Danny sighed, locked the door, turned the sign to closed, and pulled the definitely-just-a-billionare further into the shop and away from the windows. In a quick, well practiced motion, he had the man's bag and jacket on his work table and was handing him one of the spare shirts he kept aside for just such moments. The man was then pushed onto a stool so his face could be cleaned, Danny was not having blood on his brand new clothes thank you very much, and stitched up if it so required. It did. Just three quick stitches, pulled through to make a barely noticeable once healed closure, a bit of antibotic ointment on top and a sterile bandage. Danny then Left, came back with a platter of drinks and snacks, set them on a side table and then set to fixing Mr. Queen's belongings. 45 minutes, and exactly zero chatter later, and Danny was handing the man back his belongings in (nearly) the same condition they were when they were first purchased.
Which is about when they heard banging on the shop's door. Danny absently noted the way Mr. Queen reflexivly jumped in front of him and began scanning the room and groping for a something he wasn't carrying. All but confirming the ex-teen vigilantes quiet suspicions. Danny quirked a brow and barely refrained from rolling bis eyes before he gently pushed the definetly-just-a-billionare into the back and motioned him to stay.
Danny had then walked to the door, saw the men with guns outside it, and sighed. "Sorry gentleman, but I'm over my walk-in allotment for the month. You're more than welcome to call in the morning to schedule an appointment. Though I warn you, I'm a few months out for groups atm. And the guns would have to stay at home. I find they don't mix well with fittings."
"We're not here for a fitting."
"Ya, we're here for Queen. We know we saw em come in here."
"Uh. I think Queen's in Austraila right now? I don't follow them too closely but I swear I saw their tour with Adam whats-his-name advertised awhile back? maybe on a shirt or something?"
"Tour date? what? no."
"I think he mean's the band?"
"The band?"
"Ya. You know. Freddie Mercury. Bohemian Rhapsody. We Will Rock You? Look, if you don't know who they are, why are you looking for them? let alone here. In a tailor shop? at 3 pm? on a Tuesday? In September? there are no major events happening. No award shows or whatever."
"No. Not the band Queen. Oliver Queen."
"Who?"
"CEO of Queen Consolidated?"
"No idea, sorry. I don't make it a habit to keep track of old guys."
"Was lost at sea for five years before being miraculously rescued?"
"Damn. That's some Lord of the Flies shit right there."
"What? no. Answer the god damned question kid before we make you."
"What was the question?"
"Have you seen Queen?"
"Ya"
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"When did you see Queen?"
"Oh, at Madison Square Garden a while back? My sister got us tickets. They put on a great show for a couple old guys and a queen"
"Not the band. The man."
"What man?"
"Oliver-you know what? forget it. He's not here and we're wasting time. If you see him. Consider him armed and dangerous and call us."
"See who?"
"Queen."
"But they're in Australia," Danny quppied one final time as the gun wielding asshats finally gave up and left. He locked the door behind them. "Take that Jazz. And you said being an annoying little shit wouldnt get me anywhere."
When Danny went back to fetch the man (not the band) in question, he was gone. And so too were the clothes. Roughly $200 and an IOU with a phone number the only things remaining.
A week later and The Arrow was in his shop getting a new quiver and his shoes resoled with a quieter alternative.
It wasn't long until other heros, and definetly-not-hero civilians were coming through his doors.
And then there was Harley Quinn and Pamela Anderson standing in front of him with a ripped skirt and a torn jacket and suddenly he was creating rules and days and times in which certain person/persons could come and he felt a massive migraine coming on.
Which brings us back to now. With Batman and his definetly-not-actually kid. And him as the go-to guy for all ones (super) suit needs.
"Take a walk for me."
"This is dumb."
"I agree. but take a walk anyway."
"Why?"
"Why do you sit on top of a building for nights on end instead of just jumping in?"
"You gotta collect data first."
"Yup."
"You...have to collect data...on how I walk?"
"More or less."
"Why?"
"Do you just fire a new weapon? or Fight an unknown opponent?"
"No. We practice with them and watch their fighting style."
"Why?"
"So we know how to use them properly and figure out how to counter them."
"yup."
"You need to see how I walk so you know...what...clothes to make? wait. no. You need to see if I favor a certain leg or have a tendency to fiddle with my sleeves or something so you can make a suit that either compensates or covers for it or highlights it or whatever."
"Bing a ding ding we have a winner."
"Oh. Ok." the next hour was much less confrontational now that Danny had earned the kids respect. At least with regards to his methodology for his job.
If only the rest of the flock were so easy. (the worst would be Damian. Who was definetly too young but borderline feral and was the topic of an extensive negotiation between the Dark Night and the Great One that ended in a weird ass shared custody situation no one asked for or wanted or was happy about)
Batman's first Robin looked great in the end. With an outfit that was easily disguised by clothing or the tugging of certain spots, to make slipping away or into the fray a cinch. (and made for a great sillouette when doing a back flip into a swan dive off a skyscraper. Not that Danny was going to be the one to tell Bruce THAT information anytime soon. It was his own little surprise that he liked to stitch into his various peices. They all got a little something extra that the owner wouldn't notice, if the ever did, until much later. The little extras were often nothing more than an inside joke he had with himself but did serve an actual function on many occasions. This one being an omage to Robin's childhood and the circus he came from).
