Dp x DC AU: Danny didn't want to rely on his rogues, but Tucker's computer skills only got them so far and if the media black out continues... Danny knows it's not going to be pretty for them. Nightmares begin to plague the Justice League.
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Danny gets back from a shitty conversation with Clockwork and in his frustration, accidentally sets off one of the new GIW sensors that his parents allowed to be installed in the lab. Their collaboration seemed to be going no where but when Danny had new holes blasted through him... it must be going somewhere. Damn it.
The commotion is loud enough that Jazz hears it from her room above the lab (he knows she listens to more than just the lab... it's cause she cares, even if it is a bit invasive.) and rushes in to play the distraction while Danny gets away. This time it works- the Drs. Fenton might have the worst aim in the city but they demand all shots cease if a civilian is nearby- Next time his mom might be aiming her gun at him and not the ground. Danny decides he'll buy Jazz a coffee on his way home.
But first, new holes. Yikes. That like, needs medical attention- He heads to Tucker's place and he's pretty sure Sam is already there.
"Danny! What the fuck, did Clockwork-" She starts, her meticulous cat eyeliner making her glare all the deeper.
"Nah, it's the stupid GIW sensor, the stupid one I told you guys about that has a spring lose in the back?"
"I thought we decided those weren't a concern?" Tucker looks him over, face covered in undisguised and very blatant concern.
"Yeah well, Clocky pissed me off so I forgot about them when I came back in through the lab portal-"
"you were supposed to be practicing making your own." Sam interrupts.
"-And when I did, the thing got knocked and I was swatted like immediately. Jazz launched herself into the lab so Mom made them stop shooting and it gave me enough time to get out." Danny continued to explain, ignoring his friend's 'i told you so' faces.
"Dude. We're pushing it close this week. Sam already had a confrontation with the lab guys and I already got blacklisted on my new persona accounts. We're like seriously threading the needle for getting caught." Tucker, pulls his glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose and Danny and Sam both get what he's really saying. They need to lie low.
"What did CW say to piss you off?" Sam asks after a silent moment.
"He said nothing really, just like he always does, but insinuated I should try getting a rogue to help." Danny sighs.
"What, Like getting Ember to announce the GIW invasion on her tour? We already agreed that-" Sam is getting angry as she speaks so Tuck cuts her off- "It's a bad Idea. She is- They are all just as likely to get captured and hurt as you are if you go out of town." He comes to the same conclusion they've agreed on for weeks. No rogue involvement.
"Maybe we just need to sleep on it... Hey... wait." Danny sighs, but then his gears start to turn.
"Nocturn. We need Nocturn to help us. He can get the message out through dreams." Danny comes to the new conclusion and his friends look hesitant but at least like they're considering it.
"Isn't he an ancient? He's not going to help us for free." Tucker, ever the Egyptian god in these moments.
"Most people don't take their dreams literally." Sam, ever the skeptic in these moments.
"Yeah but, if they dream it enough times, and they're the right people to do something... they can look it up and then at least see that there is a problem?" Danny sounds hopeful and its the first time he's sounded that way in months.
"What, you're gunna give Batman nightmares?" Tucker snickers but Sam looks inspired.
"That's exactly what he's going to do. We need to haunt the Justice League. They'll see past the fake facade the GIW put up online and they'll be able to get the right legislation passed." Sam is practically buzzing.
"Okay, so lets get scheming- What do you get the primordial beast of the unconscious? Should I google 'what to get someone who has everything'? " Danny laughs.
_____
Bruce and his children rarely do feelings when they have breakfast in the morning after a night of separate patrols, but it seems as though the room is plagued with unease. Tim looks about as tired as ever, so his unease is probably attributable to WE board meetings, but its unlike the rest of his children to be so... disturbed. For some reason, after Alfred has excused them all from eating more than a few nibbles, they make it to the cave. Bruce is glad for the noise his children bring.
The nightmare's he's been having are following a dark plot. A town, a boy who looks like he was kin, and so, so much death. Bruce has had vivid dreams before in life, but this nightmare is... unreal. He tries to remind himself that it's just a nightmare.
When his JL emergency communicator goes off at the computer desk, he's not expecting it to be Dinah Lance. She and her Birds are typically wary of him in Gotham, even if they work well together in the League. He answers it like he would any Batman call, with silence.
"Bats, we have a problem. Any chance you've been having weird dreams about a kid getting experimented on or a town being burned down? Ghosts? Lazarus portals?" Dinah sounds exhausted, but Bruce snaps to her voice with rapt attention. As do all of his children.
"I-" Bruce takes a look around the room, everyone's heads except for Tim's nodding up and down with distress," We all have."
"Something tells me that they whole JL is. Everyone I've talked to this week has had a variation of the same dream. We either have a telepath trying to tell us something, or something even worse than that."
"I'll call emergency meeting, we need to collect details and try to determine the complete message."
"I'll send you what I've noted down so far, sans personal details of course, it's definitely in a town called Amity Park though. My client this morning saw the sign."
Batman grunts and the call ends. It's time to get to work.
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When the Justice League finally arrives, the town is glowing, and everything feels like... sleep. smothering. snoring. smoking. smoldering.
And then, despite the exhaustion that echos within them, the trudge onwards. The noise of laser guns certainly wakes them up a bit.
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More Clone^2 or just Damian Clone Au because these two have my heart rn.
————
“Asmi Danyal.” Damian says.
“Asm- asmi Danyal.” Danny repeats.
There is a sharp jab to his leg.
Danny thinks this means he’s winning, and he grins goofily.
(He’s not, he did the pronunciation wrong. He has to say it again.)
Where he is, is his room. It’s nearing midnight, and him and Damian have been sitting in his room for the last three hours.
He has books about learning arabic sprawled at his feet, from beginner’s books to advanced, he got whatever he could get his hands on that would teach him Arabic.
And Damian, little Damian who has finally taken it upon himself to settle down over these last few months, has decided that he doesn’t really like the way Danny is teaching himself.
“Your pronunciation is bad.” He told him through the translator Danny downloaded onto his phone. And then he sat down onto the ground and pointed at the floor and said “‘Ardia.”
And then wouldn’t stop until Danny said it in a way that he liked. He moved on to the next object. And then the next, and then the next. And so this has been their dynamic for the last two weeks. They’re finally moving on to proper sentences.
(It’s not fool-proof, and that’s why Danny still has his books. Damian doesn’t know every word, and knowing words doesn’t mean he knows how to string them together into a sentence.)
(But never let it be said that Danny is not a quick learner when he sets his heart to something.)
“Asmi Danyal.” Damian says.
“Asmi Danyal.” Danny repeats.
(“My name is Daniel.”)
Damian nods, satisfied and sated. He points to himself, puffed up like a peacock showing off its feathers. “Asmi Damyan Alghul.” He says, “‘Ana abn aldam.”
(There’s a flicker of uncertainty on Damian’s face, a slump in his shoulders that exists for only a millisecond. It’s a look on Damian’s face that Danny sees on his own whenever he looks in the mirror.)
(A question of identity, an ‘I think’ - am I really who I say I am? Doubt comes in with fickle tongue.)
Danny - much to his own surprise - is able to piece together the second half of his sentence on his own. It’s slow, assigning words to translation, but he learns it.
(“My name is Damian Al Ghul. I am the blood son.”)
The blood son - he can only assume he means the blood son of Bruce Wayne, of course. He shares the same face as the very public figure’s youngest boy.
And Danny shares the face of the youngest boy’s father.
And much like him, this Damian was younger than the original, thirteen year old one. Much younger.
“Marhaban Damian.” Danny says, a sly smile creeping up his face. “Asmi Danyal Fenton —” his eyes glance to one of his books, a list of greetings going down the page. He finds one he’s looking for. “Tasharafna.”
(“Hello Damian, my name is Daniel Fenton. It’s nice to meet you.”)
(He’d hold out his hand in a customary, playful handshake, but his palms still sting and hurt from his last encounter with Damian’s blade. He’s got them half curled at his side, unmoving as much as possible.)
Danny got the last pronunciation wrong, much to his amused delight. Damian’s face darkens and his smug expression falls away into a scowl.
“‘Ant aldajaalu, wanha ‘tasharafna.”
(“You are the imposter, and it’s ‘tasharafna’.”)
And so here they go again.
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Tim was four days into a sleep deficit so he felt that to say that this predicament was his fault was a bit of a reach.
For it to be his fault he would have had to cognizant of the last 16 hours.
All he wanted to do was take a power nap in the nearest closest durring the Waynetech gala but nooo Bruce had to be taken hostage by the Joker.
So he did what he thought would work best and shoved uncle Clark into the nearest emergency bat storage and told him to suit up.
Maybe he looked a bit more confused than normal but they didn’t need a reporter they needed Batman!
That being said wasn’t uncle Clark supposed to be off-world?
Oh no.
———————
Jack honestly had no clue what was happening for the last six months so when he was told to be Batman he merely just shrugged as the frankly exhausted teen left him to his own.
With his son turning out to be part ghost to the government hunting down his said son and having to move shop halfway across the continent.
This might as well happen.
Grinning like a kid on Christmas, Jack plopped on the finishing touch.
“Oh Danno is not going to believe this!”
Raising a cloaked arm with a flourish Jack struck a pose.
“Alrighty Jack enough messing around! Time to save the party, Fenton style!
Shifting his feet, Jack took a deep breath before smoothing his face the best he could. After all, couldn’t have a smiling Batman! Before walking out the room and taking running leap through the wall to the streets of Gotham before grappling to the nearest building.
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honestly, i just gotta imagine anybody from the Houses not involved with the Cohort hearing abt tlt events would be wild. like
random fifth house citizen: all....all of the house heirs died?
their random fifth house citizen friend: [nodding] except for Ianthe Tridentarius of the Third and a Ninth nun. they’re the Emperor’s new Lyctors.
random fifth house citizen: [imagining the Lyctor trials as Battle Royale style death matches]....but everyone else died??
-
random fifth house citizen’s friend: hey did you hear? the sixth house installation got cooked in that recent sunflare!
random fifth house citizen:
random fifth house citizen’s friend: also the Emperor has a daughter
random fifth house citizen: oh shit really? congrats to him. chaotic time to be raising a kid tho, imo
random fifth house citizen’s friend: she’s like, nineteen
random fifth house citizen:
-
random fifth house citizen’s friend: [poking their head into the room] hey, just letting you know, the tomb’s open
random fifth house citizen: the what’s what
random fifth house citizen’s friend: the tomb is open. the locked one. on the ninth house. it’s open.
random fifth house citizen:
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