Project Runway

I come to with Tim roughly shaking my shoulder, saying, " We're back." 

I sit up yawning, rubbing sleep for my eyes, and repeat," We're back?"

Tim nods, "Take your stuff in with you." 

Damian tuts, " Obviously, Drake," dragging me out of the car. 

Once everything is out, Dick goes to put the car away while Tim opens up the manor. Our footsteps quietly echo around us as we walk in. I go to hang up my jacket when Dami elbows me in the ribs, mouthing, " 9 o'clock." On the wall is a silently growing shadow. I slide off a shoe and cock my arm back, ready to–

" Good heavens," I hear the shadow mutter, disappearing with the hit of a light switch. Revealing Gramps in his plaid pajamas, holding a loaded rifle, " Welcome home, Master Bruce, Young Masters and Misses." 

" Damn Alfie," Jason whistles lowly, " what caliber is that?" 

" 7.5 Young Master Jason, make sure to add a dollar to the swear jar on your way up, sir," Gramps says, putting the safety back on, then looks over to Dad. " Forgive me; I did not expect your arrival." 

" I'm sorry," I say, sliding my shoe back on, " It's my fault–" 

" No, it is not. Fault lies with him," Dami argues. He pulls me up the stairs, "We will see you all in the morning." 

" May I ask wha–" Gramp's voice trails off as we get closer to the family wing. 

I remove myself from his Damis' grip, " I guess I'll see you in the morning–" 

" No," Dami says, grabbing me again and taking me to his room, " we are not done yet." 

" What?" I ask

" I have questions, and you are going to answer them," Dami says, shutting his door behind us. Dami climbs into his bed and leaves the cover down in invitation. 

I climb in, huffing, " I thought we agreed ages ago that ' Secret Confessional Storytime' is for babies?" 

" Richard insisted it was good for ' bonding.' That sharing stories is healthy," Dami deflects. 

I raise an eyebrow, " Really?" 

" Shut up, Danyal, and lay down. You are letting the cold in," Dami orders. 

I lay down on his side and face my brother, " now what?" 

Dami says nothing for a moment before asking, " Why did you not tell me?" 

" About my clone?" I ask. 

" That you aren't aging," Dami says. 

" Because it doesn't matter?" I say, bewildered.

" Of course, it matters. You are barely a teenager. You should not have to pretend otherwise," Dami says. 

" What, and sixteen is so mature?" I ask rhetorically, rolling my eyes. 

" There is a big difference between us. Thirteen-year-olds don't date or work. You have the maturity of a middle schooler," Dami explains. 

" High schooler. I skipped a grade," Danny says petulantly, " but it doesn't matter. As far as anyone else is concerned, I'm aging like I'm supposed to." 

" You expect me to believe no one has noticed? While you are supposed to be going through puberty? Unlikely," Dami argues. 

I shrugged. "Shoe lifts and makeup go a long way. No one ever said anything." 

" Your pediatrician?" Dami asks. 

" The Fentons didn't bother with one. If Jazz or I had any problems over-the-counter medicine couldn't fix, we'd go to a patient first or the ER," I explain. 

" Your friends? Jasmine?" 

" If they noticed, they never said anything." 

" What about when the Fentons took you clothes shopping?" 

" They were busy after the portal opened up," I say, thinking back, " they hadn't had the time to take me." 

" You have been wearing the same clothes? For three years?" Dami asks, sounding surprised. 

" Yes?" I answer, confused. 

" So your threadbare pants are not a fashion statement?" Dami asks. 

" They're not that bad. Plus, they're comfortable," I defend. 

" We are going shopping. Tomorrow," Dami says. 

My eyes go wide, " I'm fine, Ahki, I don't need anything." 

" No. We are going," Dami says, " you are not getting out of it." 

" Fine, but I get to choose what I get,' I say.

" Of course," Dami agrees. 

Silence fills the room. 

" Ahki, do you think Baba is mad at me?" I ask.

Dami frowns, " What would he be mad about?" 

" That I'm not aging. You both looked mad when Jason read that part of Clockworks letter," I say weakly. 

" I was not mad. Neither was Baba or the others. We are worried. You are going to be around for a long time. We do not want to leave you. You are a kid," Dami says, voice soft, " You are always going to be. We want to be there for you when you need us or want us. Even when you do not. Regardless." 

I wipe tears out of my eyes, " I won't be alone. I'll have the other Ancients, and who knows, maybe some of you too. You don't have to worry, Ahki. When the time comes, I'll be okay." 

" That won't stop me from being worried," Dami says.

" I know," I say, wrapping my brother in a hug, " but you don't need to be." 

We stay like that for a few moments. Dami pulls back, asking, "Your clone, what can you tell me about her?" 

" What do you want to know?" 

" Whatever you are comfortable sharing," Dami says. 

" She was cool. Vlad made her to replace me, but she wasn't complete. She tried to kidnap me for him, thinking he would fix her if she did. Once she found out he lied, she changed sides. One of the Fentons' inventions was a temporary fix, but it didn't last forever." 

" What happened Danyal?" Dami asks. 

" Her soul was made wrong. Stitched together like a Frankenstein project. The stitches didn't last, making holes. Her soul slipped out. Released into the unknown. She's gone to rest." 

" I'm sorry for your loss, Danyal," Dami says. 

" Thanks," I say. " You would have loved her. She loved to explore, wanted to see everything." 

" She sounds lovely," Dami says. " How old did he make her? When Luthor created Kent, he aged him up to a teenager." 

" Your age," I tell him. 

" Mine?" Dami asks, confused. 

" Vlad went off my ' birthdate.' I obviously couldn't tell the Fentons my real one, so I told them yours," I explain. 

" A day difference doesn't give you a lot of room for deniability," Dami huffs.

" Kind of the point," I yawn, " the league wouldn't expect me to choose something so obvious. Though it doesn't matter now." 

Dami pulls the covers over our shoulders, " go to sleep, little brother." 

" Goodnight, Ahki," I say, turning over and quickly drifting off to sleep. 

" Danyal, Danyal, get up. Pennyworth has finished breakfast," Dami says, shaking my shoulder. 

" I'm up," I reply grogally, " what did he make?" 

" French toast," Dami says, " come on before Richard eats it all." 

I snort and slide out of bed, then take a short detour to my room, get ready for the day, and head to the kitchen. " Good morning," I chirp, sliding into my seat. 

" Good morning, Young Master," Gramps says, putting food in front of me, "Your father and siblings took the liberty of explaining last night's events. I'm sorry for your loss." 

" Thanks, Gramps," I say.

" We were wondering," Dad says, " does your clone–"

" Dani, with an I, or Ellie. She could never decide which," I interrupt. 

" Does Ellie have a grave? Somewhere to pay respects?" Dad finishes. 

" Uh, no. No, she doesn't," I say.

" Would it be okay if we give her one?" Dad asks. 

" I'm not…" I trail off, unsure. Would she want to be surrounded by unknowns? A family she never met? 

" B gave me one, too, on the manor grounds. The headstone is still there," Jason says, " hers' could go next to mine. We'll be able to keep her company." 

" Even if it is only in spirit," Dick adds. 

" I think she would like that," I swallow. 

" Do you have one?" Cass asks.

" Have what?" I ask.

" A grave," Cass says, drawing everyone's attention. 

" Well," I say, running the back of my neck, " no, but it's not like anyone could have given me one. My friends and Jazz were the only ones who knew, and they're all in denial." 

" What do you mean?" Tim asks. 

" They believe Danyal to be a Meta," Dami explains. 

" Did you explain everything to them?" Jason asks. 

" Yeah, but that doesn't mean they understood," I say, trying to smile, " but they might, one day." 

Dick frowns, " but–" 

" Okay, Danyal," Dami says, tone firm.

" Would you like one too, Young Master?" Gramps asks. 

" But wouldn't that be inappropriate? I only have one foot in the grave," I say. 

" It's not," Dad disagrees, " you have the right to one." 

I take a couple of bites of food before asking, "Can I think about it?" 

" Of course," Baba says, " if you don't want one now, but you do later, we'll get you one. All you ever have to do is ask." 

" Thanks, Baba," I say, going back to eating. 

Jason clears his throat, " in the letter, they mentioned saying 'hi' to an Aunty Diana. Did they mean Diana Prince?" 

I look up from my food, " Yeah, she is my Aunt through core adoption. I haven't had the chance to meet her yet. Do you know her well? I know you work together sometimes, but I was never sure if you were close." 

Jason turns to Dad, eyes wide, "Do you know what this means?" 

" Jaylad–" 

" No one can take this away from me. Wonder Woman is officially our Aunt," Jason says, radiating glee. 

" We've been calling her Aunty for years," Dick says, laughing.

" But this makes it official. It's different!" Jason exclaims, making the others laugh at his antics. 

" Eat up, Young Master," Gramps smirks, " or you will never grow as strong as your Aunty."

" Father, Danyal requires new clothes," Dami says, having finished his food. 

Dad raises an eyebrow, " what's wrong with the ones he has now?" 

" They are old and thin," Dami says. 

" I told you, my clothes are fine," I say, rolling my eyes.

" They are three years old and one wrong step away from ripping," Dami says deadpan. 

" Anything else that doesn't meet your standards?" I snark.

" Your shoes," Dami says immediately, "get rid of the shoe lifts. They are unnecessary." 

" Shoe lifts?" Steph asks, stuffing her face. 

" How else was I supposed to pretend to be growing?" I ask, unintentionally souring the mood. 

" How much taller do they make you?" Jason asks.

" Just a couple of inches. It helps that my shoes have a thick soles," I say. 

" If you and Bruce don't mind, I could take you. I don't have anything going on today," Dick says, looking at me. 

" It's fine with me," Dad says, agreeing. 

" I shall go with as well. Richard has an… acquired taste," Dami says slowly as if testing the words. 

" Aw Dami, if you wanted to spend time, just the three of us, all you had to do was say so," Dick says, reaching over to ruffle his hair. 

"What's everyone else doing today?" I ask. 

" Girls day," Cass says, pointing to Steph.

" I'm going to W.E.," Tim says.

" Out," Jason says, not explaining.

" What about you, B?" Tim asks. 

" I'll be going over the presentation for the league meeting," Dad says. " Speaking of which, Danny, would you mind if I add some other things to our presentation?" 

" What did you have in mind?" I ask skeptically. 

" The fact that you are an unaging, child, immortal king would add to the others' sense of urgency. That stalling until you are no longer in need of counsel isn't an option," Father explains. 

" Stalling wouldn't do anything," I say, slightly confused what he's going on about. " My people want and deserve justice. One way or another, I will make sure they get it. I'd just prefer doing it diplomatically. Even if it was only me calling the shots, war wouldn't be off the table, but there as a last resort. Something we are steadily approaching. Lydia isn't the only ghost fed up with what's going on. Others will start acting out soon if they aren't already if they don't see some progress." 

Father clears his throat, " I will make that clear in the presentation." 

" Good," I say, then asks Dick, "When do you think you'll be ready to go?" 

" Hum, just give me a second to put on my shoes," Dick says, getting up from the table. 

" We will meet you in the car," Dami says. We put our dishes in the sink, go out, and get in the car. 

" So where'd you want to go?" Dick asks once he gets in. 

" Target? I ask. 

" Sure," Dick says, starting down the driveway. 

" Wouldn't you rather get something of better quality?" Dami asks, trying to persuade me. 

" It's better than Walmart," I say, " and we're just getting everyday things. There's no reason to put a lot of money into stuff like that." 

Dami tries to protest, " But–" 

" Look, Dami, where Danny gets his clothes from doesn't affect you, just like your clothes don't affect him," Dick says, trying to mediate, " you might be here for suggestions, but that doesn't mean Danny has to take them." 

" Whatever," Dami says, crossing his arms. 

Once we make it to the highway, Dick asks me, " If you don't mind, can I get some clarification on something Damian said last night?" 

" Sure," I say, " what did you want to know?" 

Dick says, " Dami said Masters mentioned something about you apprenticing under him–" 

I cut him off, " he wanted me to. I never agreed." 

" I just wanted to make sure you weren't forced into anything, is all," Dick explains, " I had a similar issue when I was Robin." 

" You did?" I ask, surprised. 

" Yep," Dick says, popping the P, " Deathstroke thought I would make a good apprentice. He forced my hand by injecting nanobots into my team at the time, the Teen Titans. I was stuck working under him until they figured it out."

" I'm sorry that happened to all of you," I tell him, " He never went that far when threatening my friends, but he still went out of his way to mess with me." 

" What did he do besides the cloning?" Dami asks. 

" He bugged the Fentons' house, mics, and cameras, occasional breaking and entering, and kidnapping that kind of thing. Occasionally, he'd grab one of the Fentons, too. One time, he forced Maddie and me into the woods filled with feral ghost animals, knowing I couldn't out myself and that she'd be weaponless. Swooping in at the last moment, trying to be her Knight in shining armor," I say casually." We'd fight. He'd call it 'training' and say I should be thankful for the lessons." 

" Why not just kill him if he is so much trouble?" Dami asks. 

" Damian," Dick calls in admonishment. 

" He'd probably come back as a full ghost, and I'd prefer not to deal with that. If he goes peacefully, maybe he'll move on," I explain, ignoring Dick. 

" Baby D," Dick says, groaning. 

" What? It's the truth," I say. 

" Father is very strict about his no-killing policy," Dami explains. 

" But he's got to have exceptions, right? Some people are better off facing justice in the afterlife than remaining amongst the living," I say. 

" Bruce doesn't see it that way," Dick says, turning into the Target parking lot. 

" As long as he understands if that clown Mother Fucker, gets anywhere near me, it's on-site. Mass murders aren't welcome in the realms, him included. He's got thousands of years on his prison sentence, and none of us are opposed to him starting early," I say.

" Prison sentence?" Dami asks.

" He's going to the nightmare realm, sometimes called hell or Tartarus, whatever you wish to refer to it as," I explain. 

" That's a comforting thought," Dick mutters.

" Does that mean Todd, Cain, and I are going to hell?" Dami asks. 

"No," I say rapidly, shaking my head, " you and Cass did what you had to, and you learned from it and felt remorse. People like the Joker are only in it for the carnage. Jason is a special case because of the Lazarus pit, but overall, he still has a good, bright soul. He has nothing to worry about. Nobody at home does." 

" Mother and Grandfather?" Dami asks.

" Grandfather will be given punishment, but off the top of my head, I'm not sure about Mother," I say. 

" Okay," Dick says, turning off the car, " enough death talk. It's time to shop." 

" Do you think they'll have a Martian Manhunter sweatshirt?" I ask as we make our way in.

" I'm not sure, but there is no hurt in looking," Dick says, leading us to the clothes, " were you wanting anything else in particular?" 

" A couple of T-shirts and some new jeans, if that's okay?" I ask. 

Dick ruffles my hair, "Anything you want, Baby D." 

To Damians' horror, mine and Dicks fashion senses are pretty similar. Neither of us could stay away from the puns. Didn't matter if they were science, death, or hero-related. I had to get it. " Danyal," Dami groans as I look at another t-shirt, " you need something other than that." 

" What like jeans?" I ask, being deliberately obtuse. 

" A button-down or a polo. T-shirts are not always appropriate attire," Dami says, pointing some out to me, " you go to W.E. with Father and Drake sometimes to talk about technology or your inventions. What happens when you need to meet with someone? They are not going to take you seriously in a glow-in-the-dark skeleton shirt where one of them is holding the other spine taunting them, saying, ' I have your back.'" 

I sigh, looking at the button-downs, "One." 

" Three," Dami argues, " you can't wear the same one each time it necessary to look put together." 

" Fine," I pout, grabbing button-downs in blue, green, and red plaid, " happy now?" 

" Happy no? But satisfied? For now," Dami retorts. 

" Danny, look!" Calls Dick, "They do have Manhunter sweatshirts!" 

We get two. 

Getting jeans was less of a struggle; I got a light and dark wash pair and two pairs in black, but Dami still wasn't satisfied. " You need shoes. Ones that fit properly, without those ridiculous shoe lifts." 

" He's not wrong, Danny, those things look like they're falling apart," Dick adds, so much betrayal, then walks over to the shoe display full of white ones, "What about something like this?" 

" Nah," I say, " they'd get dirty too easily." 

" Fair," Dick says, shrugging, " Would you want color?" 

" I don't think so," I say, "I'm thinking something dark." 

" I don't think they'll have a lot of choices for you here, but there is a foot locker a couple blocks down. Wanna try there?" Dick asks. 

" Are you okay with that," I ask Dami.

" As long as I don't have to see those monstrosities ever again, I do not care where we go," Dami says. 

It was like love at first site. As soon as we entered the store, I found the ones. They're a mixture of black, gray, and white. A mixed type of canvas pattern. I look at the price – oh, they're on sale –and grab them. 

Shopping complete. 

" Are you sure those are the ones you want?" Dami asks for the Nth time as we approach the car. 

" Yes, Dami," I sigh and get in.

" I'm glad you could find some you liked," Dick says, " you ready to head back?" 

I look at Dami, "Home sounds good to me. What about you?"

"That would be preferred," Dami agrees. 

" Are you ready for the meeting?" Dick asks as we pull out, "It's only a few days away." 

 "As ready as I could ever be," I say, A bit tense, still thinking about all the possibilities. Of what could go wrong. " Will you all be there?" 

" I will," says Dami.

" So will Bruce and I." Dick says, " I think Tim is working, and Im not sure about Jay. He doesn't normally go up unless there is an emergency, but I know he wants to be there for moral support." 

" I just hope it goes well," I say.

" Regardless, you have us," Dick says, " even if the league can't help you or the government refuses to listen, you will always have us." 

" But, wouldn't that get you all into a lot of trouble going against them?" I ask. 

Dick snorts, " Remember, we're not like most of the league, and Batman and I were vigilantes before we were ever considered heroes. If the cause is right, and yours is, we have no problem acting outside of the law." 

" I just don't want this to come back to bite you," I say. 

" You worry too much. There is no point getting worked up over something that has not happened yet," Dami says. Unsure of how to respond, the three of us ride back in silence. Once we're home, Dami races back in without saying a word. 

" Thanks, Dick, for taking us," I say, gathering my things.

" Anytime, Baby D," Dick says, ruffling my hair again. 

After I put my stuff away, I go to the library, looking for Jason. I find him, feet hanging over a chair, reading. " I thought you said you were going out?" I ask. 

" Who's to say I didn't but already came back?" 

" Touché." 

" What do you want brat?" Jason asks. 

" Could I talk with you? In private?" I ask. 

Jason looks around, " No one else is here." 

" I know, but Dad has cameras–" 

" And whatever this is, you don't want him to know about it?" Jason says. "What's stopping me from telling him whatever this is after?" 

" Nothing," I say, " but I'd hope you wouldn't." 

We have a stare-off. I win. Jason gets up, groaning, "Come on, baby blues, let's get this over with," and leads me to his room. Jason sits on his bed, "What's so important that you needed to interrupt my book?" 

" I'm worried about the meeting. That there won't be enough to convince the league to help," I say, " that the incidents are too isolated. Not worthy of their assistance. I gave Dad access to my GIW files since they were the main ones doing stuff, but they weren't the only ones hurting us." 

" Who?" Jason asks.

" Fentons," I say. " They've always been good engineers and shitty scientists, and over time became a descent shot. It was bound to happen eventually." 

" What exactly did they do?" Jason asks, but I don't answer. He sighs, " I get wanting to protect them; they took care of you for a while. But being biased based on your own experiences isn't going to help anyone. You said earlier that you wanted to help your people get justice; you can't do that if you're protecting the perpetrators." 

 " I know–" 

" Then why are you hesitating?" Jason asks. 

I bite my lip, contemplating playing with the end of my shirt, before slowly lifting it. Revealing a butchered Y-incision surrounded by red, raw, puffy skin. Pus oozes down his chest while a mixture of old blood and crusted pus covers the sutures. 

Jason races over to me and orders, "Sit down. When did this happen?" 

" About a week or so before I sent that message to Dami," I say, going to the edge of his bed. " Jack and Maddie had been locking up ghosts in the lab for months. I'm not sure what they were doing, but it had to have hurt. They'd scream. All the time. I'd cause distractions and release them whenever I got the chance. To get them looked over. But that night, It was bad. That spirit was howling. I had to help her; better me than her. I let them all out but got caught in their place. She went to get help, but they were too late." 

" Jesus, kid," Jason says, " we have to get you looked at, it's infected." 

"There is nothing anyone can do," I say, " human antibiotics aren't strong enough, and there isn't enough ectoplasm in the world of the living to keep ghost medicine here." 

" Your meeting is at the watchtower, right?" Jason asks.

" Yes?" I answer.

" They keep meds up there for metas. They probably have stuff up there that can help," Jason says, then looks back at the incision, " those other files you have, does it include them doing this?" 

" Yeah," I choke out.

" You should show them you want them to understand the threat these people are to you and your people. The fact that they could look at you, a kid, and do that shows how far gone they are," Jason says gently, " they're committing war crimes. What they did to you, kid, is against the Geneva Convention. They need to be punished."