Welcome to Metropolis

The stars are dimmer in Metropolis. It's better than Gotham, for sure, but they have nothing on Amity Park or the beautiful sky above Nana Pabart. 

It's strange; looking at the night sky, the stars slightly shifted. I can't get enough of it. Of the constellations, the satellites, the– I trip. 

" Be more observant, Danyal," Damian chastises, having just been stepped on. 

" Sorry," I say, eyes coming back down to earth. I move next to Damian as we follow the rest of the family down the street. I ask, "Who are we going to meet again?" 

" The Kents, Danyal," Damian huffs. 

" Okay, but who are they?"I ask.

" What do you mean?" Jason asks. 

" Like, are they acquaintances, family friends?" I ask, listing the possibilities on my fingers, " Should I be expecting Dad to be, ya know, Dad, Brucie, or Father? What am I walking into?" 

"What's the difference between Dad and Father?" Dick asks, confused. 

" Dad is normal him. Grunts for acknowledgments but still uses words. Shows genuine emotion. While Father is only grunts and discrete sassy criticism. All orders, no fun, runs the flying furry brigade," I explain. 

Tim laughs, "Mostly Dad mode then. The Kents are a bit more than family friends, more like honorary extended family." 

" They have kids," Dad interjects, spooking us. " The youngest, Jon, is Damians' best friend, around your age, while Connor is around Tims." 

" Ooh, best friend, huh," I say as we round a corner and approach some family-run diner," did you tell him about me?" 

Damian is pensive momentarily before realizing, "That had slipped my mind. That will be rectified." 

I bump him with my arm," Don't worry about it. My friends didn't know about you until I left." 

" Really?" Damian asks with his eyebrow raised. 

" yeah," I say, scratching my cheek, "CPS and Mr. Lawrence showed up sooner than I expected. I was doing some last-minute packing while filling them in." 

Jason snorts right before a call of " Damian" comes from up ahead. A guy rushes forward and gets his arms around me, saying, " I haven't seen you in weeks !" he pulls back to see me, "You're not Damian." 

Damian, with his arms crossed, says, "Obviously." 

Danny is surprised at the mistake. Over the past few weeks, he's gained a little weight, his clothes no longer as baggy, but his stature is still way off, nowhere near as muscular as his brother. Danny smirks at Jon, "I'm his twin, Danny. It's nice to meet you," Jon just blinks at him. Danny adds, "You give good hugs." 

I've got to admit I'm surprised by the mistake. Over the past few weeks, I've gained a little bit of weight, and my clothes fit better, but I still don't look anything like him. During my time with the Fentons, I lost the majority of my muscle mass, unable to continue training regularly. I smirk at the boy. "I'm his twin, Danny. It's nice to meet you," He just blinks at me. I add, "You give good hugs." 

" I'm sorry," he spits out, letting me go, " I'm Jon." 

A taller boy comes over and asks Tim, " B got another one?" 

" Not exactly, Danny, this is Connor, Connor Demon Brat the Second," Tim replies.

I can't help but look back and forth between the two. They feel different. Similar in some ways but not in others. One of the adults feels off, too, the man. But I can't tell why that is– " Kids," the lady says, interrupting my thought, " come on," ushering us in. 

We get a table, but before I sit, Dad grabs me by the shoulder, " Clark, Louis, this is my youngest Danny, Damians' twin." 

" I'm guessing the Gazzet didn't need that retraction," says Clark, eyeing me. After the article came out, there was a lot of speculation. The picture was extremely blurry, as expected, and after "careful" deliberation, the public decided I was just Damian and that the reporter made a mistake. The Gazzet chose to put out a retraction, though there remained some speculation online. 

" It's nice to meet you, Danny," says Louis.

"It's nice to meet you, too," I say. 

Once seated and ordered, Jon asks, " So Danny, where have you been all this time? Damian never mentioned you." 

" Uh," I glance around the table, unsure what to say, "around." 

" Were you with your mom?" Connor asks.

" No, it's been a while since I last saw her," I admit, hoping the food will come soon. " What do you do for work?" I deflect to the adults. 

" We're both reporters for the Daily Planet," says Clark. 

I nod in interest, but the discussion doesn't go anywhere. The Kents and the rest of my family talk with familiarity and try to include me, but I'm not sure what to say.

The food arrives, saving me from the conversation. 

' Family friends,' I think, ' what does that even mean?' How much do they know? The longer we sit here, the more obvious it becomes that this family isn't normal. 

Their souls feel weird. 

All souls have a unique feeling to them. Not one is the same. If you're around someone long enough, you can recognize them by the feel of it. If any ghost can do it, I'm not sure, but it feels similar to my ghost sense. 

Soul sensing. 

From what I can tell, Louis is the only human- a baseline one at that. While the other three are related but not fully. Clark feels vaguely familiar, alien, but from where? I've traveled through non-human portions of the realms before. Interacted with all types of people in the busier social hubs and cities, but I still have trouble from time to time telling them all apart. 

I can tell Jon is both Clark's and Louis's. His human soul mixes and swirls into his otherness naturally. 

Unlike Connor. 

He feels like Clark, and not as in that's my kid kind of way Jon does, but like Clark. Like he is him. But still not. There's someone else mixed in, and it's not Louis. Connors' soul feels like melted-down plastic, muddled together to make something, someone new. Deprived of time and growth. Molded to a certain image. 

He reminds me of Dani. 

" You ready?" Cass asks, breaking me out of his thoughts. I look around to see everyone gathering their things, ready to leave. 

" Yeah, sorry," I say, not seeing Cass's worried look. 

Our families pay and go separate ways. 

I don't say anything on the way back to the hotel,  which must have gained Dad's attention. He starts to slow down, letting the others pass him to sync up with me, " We walk for another half a block, then Dad asks, " What did you think of the Kents?"

" They were nice."

" You didn't speak much," Dad says. 

I put my hands in my pockets, " Didn't have much to say." 

We're almost to the hotel when Dad remarks, "You stumbled when asked about Talia." 

" I didn't want to lie to them," I admit, looking up at the stars, " Tim said they were honorary family. I didn't want to lie to people so important to everyone. It didn't feel right." 

" If someone else had asked?" Dad questions softly. 

" I'd deflect or say that I was off living with someone else," I say, repeating the cover story. 

We continue on in silence. Once we're at the rooms, everyone gets ready for bed. Not wanting to take up so much room, we decided to get a suite and double up.

"Who's bunking with whom?" Dad asks, claiming his side of a bed. 

"I refuse to sleep next to Richard," says Damian. " He attaches himself to others like a parasite."

"I'll take replacement," says Jason, 

" I call Cass," says Steph. 

" I'll bunk with Dick?" I say, but it sounds more like a question. 

I'm pretty sure I heard Damian mutter ' thank god,' but I'm not sure. We all hunker down for the night, needing the sleep.

All except me. 

Dick fell asleep fast, but he didn't settle, trying to find something to cuddle with. I sacrifice one of my pillows to the cuddle monster. 

Hopefully, I don't have to give up another one. 

It's louder than I would have expected. Traffic is steadily going, horns are blaring, and lights are flashing. ' How does anybody sleep in this city?' I wonder, going intangible, sliding off the bed, giving up on sleeping. 

I look out the window to see part of the sky. I look around the room, the rest peacefully sleeping, ' it's not like it will hurt anything,' I think as I turn invisible and fly through a wall. I go up, away from the lights, and towards the stars. I go to the tallest building, sit on the ledge, and look at the stars. 

I feel stars fill my eyes, and constellations create themselves on my face. I stay out there for hours, relaxing, at peace. 

The sky is fading to twilight when a red and blue smudge swooshes by me, almost knocking me over. ' Ancients, talking about reckless flying. Can you get a ticket for that? Are FUIs a thing, like DUIs? I wonder if Dick would know?' I think as the blur stops in mid-air and turns around. It stares at me before coming closer. ' Ah, fuck,' I curse recognizing the soul coming over. 

" Late night, Mr. Superman?" I ask.

" Early morning," Superman says, face pale.

" Eww," I say, making a face, " I hate those. I'm just glad Dami doesn't force me to get up with him at the crack of dawn anymore." 

Realization flashes across his face as he flies over and sits beside me, " Bruce, tell you?"

" Nah, No offense, Mr. Kent, but you're disguised sucks. A pair of glasses and clumsiness only get you so far," I say nonchalantly. 

" I'll take that into consideration,"  Clark says, sounding miffed. 

Sensing his agitation, I tell him, "Your soul is the biggest giveaway."

" My soul?" Clark parrots.

" Mhum." 

" Do you mind expanding on that?" 

" It's very.. pure? I think that's the right word. You have good intentions; you might fumble every now and then, but everyone does. You have regrets, but you don't let them eat you away," unlike Dad's, " it's rare to see. Not to mention, there are not a lot of Kryptonians running around. Process of elimination." 

" You can feel my soul?" Clark asks again.

" Yes? Did Father not explain anything to you?" I frown, confused. Father and Tim have been looking through GIW records since I let them into their server. They wanted to ensure they had all the prevalent information for the league meeting, " he was going to present everything at the next leading meeting? Two weeks from now." 

" He called for the meeting," Clark agrees, " but he didn't mention any specifics. Just that attendance is mandatory." 

I huff, " I thought he would at least mention it to you and Wonder Woman." 

"Bruce isn't the type to freely give out information, but he means well. He likes to understand the full picture before bringing things to our attention,"  Clark says.

" I get that," I say, running my hand through my hair, " It's just I would prefer a strong united front when talking about this." 

Clark looks at his watch, " I've got the time." 

" I thought you said you had an early morning at work?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't worry about it," Clark says, " what is it you're so worried about?" 

" What do you know about ghosts?" 

" I know they exist. Constantine has worked with a few of them, not much besides that." 

" Well, at least that's something," I mutter. " To make a long matter short, the US government is on the verge of going to war with the afterlife." 

Clark sits there for a moment before asking, "You brought this information to Bruce?" I nod, and he asks, "What's your source?" 

" Myself. When I got out of the league, a couple picked me up. They're scientists who somehow got it into their minds that punching a hole into reality would be a good idea. It didn't work at first, but once it did, ghosts started coming out. Some were just curious about what was happening with the living or wanted to see family, but others brought chaos. Not all of it intentional," I say, defending my rouges, "  some of them couldn't help it–" 

" How couldn't they help it? Clark asks, cutting me off. 

" Ghosts have obsessions; it's what keeps us going, letting us exist–" 

" Us?" Clark asks, eyes going wide. 

" Would you let me finish?" Danny asks, arms crossed. Clark wisely doesn't say anything. " Obsessions can be anything; they're not rational, and they can be hard for livings to understand. It can cause misunderstandings. I try to keep the peace, sending ghosts back to the infinite realms; that's the dimension's name, but Ghost Hunters didn't like it. Going after the others themselves, eventually, they created an organization called the GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward, also known as the Guys In White. They don't want to keep the peace but to see what makes us tick. They introduced the Anti-Ecto acts, making anyone who creates or metabolizes ectoplasm legally considered nonsentient, stripping us of any and all rights. We are to be captured for experimentation and then exposed." 

" How long have the acts been active?" Clark asks. 

" About 2 years. Fleas have more rights than we do. They tried to Nuke the Realms about a year ago. They've kidnapped and ended ghosts. It's been decided that enough is enough; the Realms are vying for war. I persuaded them to try diplomacy, but if they don't start seeing action soon…" 

" War," Clark says grimly, " What's your place in this?" 

"I was in an accident and became the human version of Scrotender's cat,"  I explain, shifting to sit crisscrossed, " vigilantism runs in the family. I couldn't not help. Got involved with some big things and tried to alert you guys, but no one showed up. So I handle things myself, but stopping government-sanctioned genocide remains outside my capabilities." 

" Do you have a plan to stop it?"  Clark asks. 

" Getting the league meeting set up was the first step, and if things go well, I'm hoping to get assistance with contacting Representatives and, from there, see how things play out," I say. 

" And things don't work out for the better?" Clark asks.

My eyes flash green, " My opponent's death would be swift. I see no reason for people to suffer for the policies they had no part in making." 

" I hope it doesn't come to that,"  Clark says, " but the league will do our best to stop these actions from continuing." 

" That's all I can hope for,"  I say with a small smile, happy that at least that another person was on my side. 

I tilt his head, thinking, staring at Clark intensely, "Can I ask you a possibly personal question?" 

" What is it?" 

" Conner is your clone, right? Is everything okay between the two of you?" I ask. 

Clark says, " He is. When I first learned about him, things were tense. He was made to replace me without my knowledge. I  didn't react well at first, but I came around. Things are still tense sometimes, but I wouldn't know what to do without him. He's family. Why do you ask? "

"I was just worried about him. I could tell he was made, not born. People don't always react well to cloning," I reply, relieved. If he had said anything different, Connor would have been coming home with me. No exceptions. 

" You sound like you're talking from experience," Clark says, eyes narrowing, " were you?" 

" Yeah," I say, inhaling sharply, " This fruit loop decided he wanted to get with my foster "mother" and wanted me to go with him. I said no, of course, he didn't like that. A while passed, and this girl came out of nowhere; she looked like Dami. I thought that I missed something on celebrity news for a moment, but then she claimed to be my cousin from my "Father's" side," I say, using air quotes, "she explained that she was Jack's cousin's kid. I knew it wasn't true, but I took her back with me anyway. She was one of many he made but the only girl. He messed up the process, all but her destabilized into goo, and told her he'd fix her if she got me to go with her to see him. He lied. We teamed up in the end and did our best to do what we could for her. She didn't want to stay with me, which is understandable, but we decided to keep in touch. We found out the fruit loop aged her up a bit too much. She and Dami are a day older,"  Mother said I needed another day before I could come out. " Dani, with an I, called me frantic one day. She was disabilizing again. I took her to a doctor in the realms. They said they could do nothing; she lasted another three days." 

When she destabilized, all that was left of her was her core. It had holes all in it, where her soul had been leaking out. It's kept safe at the keep. 

Clark gets a weird look on his face. His emotions are running rampant, " I'm sorry for your loss." 

" Me too,"  I say, tears escaping. I feel myself falling out of my obsession. I push myself off the edge of the building right as the sun breaks into the sky and float there just long enough to say, "Have a good day, Uncle Superman," and then fly away. 

Tucker: Really dude

Tucker: You've been a Wayne this whole time?!?!

Sam: I had to suffer through Brucie and his galas for YEARS

Sam: This isn't fair. You didn't have to go

Tucker: That's your problem with this? I talked about how hot Tim Drake-Wayne is for HOURS, and you never stopped me

Danny: I hadn't met him at that point yet, so it wasn't awkward

Sam: And now?

Danny: I'm gonna need the bleach

Danny: You coming to the Metropolis Gala? 

Sam: Unfortunately 

Sam: You? 

Danny: I'll be there somewhere. Have fun finding me :)

Tucker: Why is the smiley face threatening?

Tucker: Danny what did you do?

Danny: Nothing you can prove