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Another small Clone^2 thought
Danny's hands are scarred.
Really, every part of him is. His arms, his legs, his torso. All of them littered in nicks and scratches and scabs that he's picked at over, and over, and over again. And then bigger ones, jagged scars from debris stabbing at him, and burns of ectoplasm blasts that melted through his regular clothes and hit his skin.
The one thing that never really got scarred were his hands. They were callused, of course, from all his climbing, and hitting, and hanging on for dear life to things. But never really scarred, not really. Maybe he just got lucky, maybe it was the fact that he wore gloves and they leather, and leather is harder to get through than cotton. Maybe both.
But, well, that's no longer case. But the scars on his hands take place on his palms. Two clean, thick lines going diagonally over his palms. Not from any enemy he's ever faced, but proof of his meeting with the little boy sitting between his knees, running his tiny fingers over those same scars.
Damian, his little brother. He scarred them, with that katana of his.
First when they first met, when Damian called him an imposter and proceeded to attack him. It was really only from Danny's exposure to the quick movements of ghosts that kept him from getting shish-kabob'd by Damian's sword.
And it was only because he was an idiot, and his brain was not faster than those reflexes that he kept grabbing the blade with his hands. That it kept cutting into that leather until it started cutting skin.
And then numerous times over on those rocky first months of Damian staying with him, when he didn't know any English, and Danny didn't know any Arabic. When Danny would piss him off or go looking for him when he ran off, he would have to grab his katana while Damian was swinging it at him.
His hands wouldn't heal for months because of it. The wounds kept being re-opened. Kept bleeding. Kept hurting. Until they slowly stopped hurting, and he knew that it wasn't a good thing.
Danny's parents were very upset when they saw his hands. It was hard to lie about where he got them - the lines are too clean, too consistent, to have been accidents. Danny didn't know how to lie and say it wasn't because of Damian. That it wasn't his katana that they knew nothing about that was stained with his blood.
He found a way to anyways, because he thought Damian was worth it at the time. He was a kid. He was scared. He was hurting other people and that's all he was ever taught to do.
So Danny thought a little pain was worth it.
(He still does.)
Oh, fun fact. There are three nerves in the human hand. the radial nerve, the median nerve, and the ulnar nerve. From what he could find on it, the ulnar nerve traveled up into the pinky and the ring finger, the median went through the middle of the palm and the ring, the middle, and the index, and the radial nerve went into the thumb and the index.
Fun fact, did you know consistent (or deep enough) lacerations to the palm could end up cutting a nerve? And that such lacerations can cause numbness, loss of feeling, and weakness in the hand, fingers, and thumb?
Here's a final fun fact: Danny had to go to physical therapy after his hands finally began to heal. Because Damian's katana had cut his radial nerve. There are seventeen thousands touch receptors in the hand, Danny's lost some of those.
His hands still hurt when he closes and opens them, the scarring pinches a little. He doesn't know why but his fingers hurt now when its too humid or too cold, or when its about to rain. It sucks. It's worth it.
He lied about before; here's the final fun fact:
There is a deeply, deeply, guilty look on Damian's face as he runs his little hands over Danny's scarred palms, carefully closing and opening his fingers in a slow rendition of his physical therapy workouts.
(Because even if it's ended, he still has to do them. Pain doesn't go away even if it's healed.)
"I'm sorry." Damian says in a meek, thick voice. He's said it before, when they've done this before at all hours of the day. Danny's wondering if Damian does it on purpose - hurt himself with this, that is. Not apologize. "I hurt you."
Danny sighs, deeply, and leans forward to press his face into his little brother's hair. "It's okay." He mutters, again. And he'll say it again, and again, and again, until Damian finally believes him. "I'm not mad."
"I am." Damian insists, his voice wobbles. "I hurt you, Danny."
"And I say it's okay that you did, Damian." Danny repeats, and wraps an arm around Damian's middle to sit him on his leg. Damian doesn't look at him, just curls his fingers around Danny's other hand and looks at the scar there. "Like I said, I'm not mad. I would do it again."
"Do not."
So, Danny's hands are scarred.
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