Chapter Text
Strange forces were at work in Amity Park, and Damian was not going to sit back and watch as Sam and her friends ran off into a dangerous dimension to gather clues without him. His unique background and training gave him an advantage in both detective work and providing protection, and though they couldn’t understand what they were missing out on by attempting to exclude him, it would be a grave error on their part, one he couldn’t allow Sam to make. He would be assisting them, that was a given. He just… wasn’t sure yet how exactly to accomplish that.
Sam was giving him a ride over to the hotel his family was staying at while Fenton and Foley went on to Fenton Works to ‘prep’ for their mission and Red Huntress flew off to do what she called a ‘precautionary sweep’ of the town, but she’d promised to meet Damian with his family at the hotel in a short while. Damian was taking the opportunity to attempt to sway Sam to his side and obtain an invitation to their mission, just as Drake had done with Foley the night before. Surely their friendship over the summer had earned him some measure of trust?
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Damian,” she said with a sigh while keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the road as she drove. “In most other circumstances, I would try to talk Danny into letting you come with us because it’s a pretty cool place to see as long as you keep your head on straight and he’s usually just being overprotective. But Clockwork is one of the most powerful ghosts in existence. He controls the timestream, and that’s not something to be fucked around with lightly. While he’s thankfully not malicious, he’s pretty frustrating to deal with and you have to be careful what you say and do around him. Plus, his lair is always filled with accidental portals to random times and places that open and close with little to no warning. It’s not the sort of place we can have a rookie wandering around.”
“I am not a rookie,” Damian hissed. It rankled him, how Sam was underestimating him and he was forced to play along for the sake of his family’s identities. Oh, how he wished he could share with her just how many dangerous missions he’d completed during his lifetime—first in the League with his mother and grandfather, then on the streets of Gotham with Richard and Father. Not to mention the fact that he’d had a successful tenure as leader of the Titans! He was the al Ghul heir, he was Robin, he was Batman’s son and he wasn’t afraid of some paltry time ghost hiding out in a paradoxical lair!
Sam just smiled sadly as she slid to a stop for a red light. “Can you give me a reason to bring you with us?” she asked quietly. “A concrete one, one that Danny would have to accept? And surviving the ghost attack this summer isn’t enough—she was pretty weak, as far as ghost enemies go.”
I’m a goddamn superhero who’s faced down enemies you could never dream of was on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be screamed out, but with some effort he was able to swallow down the urge. There was no way he was going to give away more information on their identities than Drake already had. If they got made during this excursion, it was not going to be Damian’s fault.
He silently shook his head and huffed in annoyance. Fine. There was more than one way to surveil Team Phantom, and one didn’t need to be invited to follow a superhero into action. If Drake of all people had managed such a feat as a small child, then Damian could certainly figure something out now. They were only a few minutes away from the hotel, and he had another question he needed to ask when it was still just the two of them.
He kept his eyes fixed on the stoplight as it switched from red to green and Sam started to drive forwards again. “So, were you aware when we met last summer that I have an uncanny, almost unnatural resemblance to your boyfriend?”
Sam’s faint, sad smile suddenly brightened into something lighter. “I mean, I’m not blind, so, yeah. Part of the reason I came over to talk to you in the cafeteria that first week was because your face made me think of pouty, hangry Danny, and I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to help you. And when I found out we were having the same issue, well. Who would I have been to refuse my beloved boyfriend’s doppelgänger a chance at a decent meal?”
Damian bristled. “Anyone would be dissatisfied with the so-called vegetarian fare provided at that overpriced farce of a summer camp,” he huffed.
“Aw, come on, it wasn’t all bad,” Sam said, now with a full on smirk. “Sneaking out every other night to hike to the Walmart was pretty fun.”
Against his will, his irritation softened at the fondly held memories, and he finally allowed a small smile of his own. “Yes, well. I doubt very much either of our parents realized that they were paying for that particular experience. Also, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention the… specifics of our excursions to either my father or Drake.” It had only been four months, almost five, since camp had finished, and the statute of limitations on consequential grounding as specified in the Wayne Family Charter was set to six months after an incident related to their civilian personas for members under the age of eighteen. Best not to risk anything worse than what he’d already be getting.
Sam laughed. “Hey, my parents have been unknowingly contributing to Team Phantom’s funds via my allowance for two years now. I’m no stranger to not letting slip what I’m up to with my time and their money.”
Damian nodded once, satisfied, before he forced himself to return to a less comfortable line of conversation. “So you never thought it odd, or suspicious, that he and I are so physically similar? You didn’t think that there might be some sort of… explanation?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said, her voice returning to that soft, quiet tone she had been using earlier. “I won’t say I haven’t thought about it. But you weren’t overly interested in hearing about Danny or even about ghosts and ghost hunters. Plus, you’ve had a Wikipedia page for longer than Danny’s even been a half ghost, so you being another Danny clone sent to either destroy him or get information from us just didn’t really make any sense.”
Damian sniffed. He understood why Sam might have had to rule out the possibility, especially since it sounded as though the Ghost Hunters had previously been targeted by Fenton’s clones, but it was still mildly offensive. He was clearly an original. “Have you ever considered the possibility that Daniel Fenton might be my clone?”
Sam just shrugged. “I doubt that, too. Danny’s been here for forever. His mom and sister have shown me baby pictures and everything. Both of you have perfectly normal legal identities and a well documented presence in your own cities.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as they turned the corner onto the street that the hotel was on. “So unless you’ve got some reason to believe that someone might have cloned you as a baby , and then sent the baby clone to be raised in Illinois by the Fentons, and then have zero connection to you or your family until you happened to meet me at a random summer camp that was a last minute decision from both of our parents, we’re going to have to put that theory in the ‘highly unlikely’ column.”
Damian breathed out slowly and heavily. “I suppose when you put it like that I have to agree it does seem implausible.” Mother or Grandfather could have, would have, had actually cloned him in the past, but the second part of the question—why here? Why now? To what end?—was still impossible to explain with the information he currently had. Once he returned to Gotham, he could investigate the matter further, look for any League connections on the part of the Fentons or Amity Park, see if the evidence of Fenton’s childhood Sam claims to have seen was legitimate or fabricated—but for now, he had to lay it to rest.
Perhaps Father or Drake had theories of their own that they might share with him later. After all, if Fenton’s friends could see it, then his own family ought to have noticed the similarities between Damian and Fenton as well, and he knew neither of them would be satisfied with the coincidental doppelgänger explanation without further investigation.
Sam pulled her car up to the front door and rolled to a stop. “Hey, isn’t that your brother?” she asked, pointing towards a figure leaning against one of the columns supporting the portico in front of the building while typing away on a phone. Damian frowned as he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for the door handle.
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Looks like he’s waiting for you,” Sam remarked. “Did you two plan something?”
“I’m not sure,” Damian muttered as he exited the vehicle. He had texted Father and Drake to warn them that Phantom was determined to assign them a babysitter in the form of a different teenaged ghost hunter, one who was also going to use the opportunity to demonstrate Axion Lab’s restricted tech. They hadn’t responded, but he assumed Drake’s presence in front of the hotel meant that they’d figured out what to do about it.
Drake looked up at the sound of the car door closing. When he saw Damian, he grinned and straightened up, tucking his phone into one of his jacket pockets. “Hey, Damian! And hi Sam, it’s nice to see you again,” he said, nodding to Sam, who had gotten out of her car and was a couple of steps behind Damian.
“Hey, Tim. Heard you covered for me with the boys last night, thanks for that—I couldn’t get out of my house because my mom was up late having a meltdown over some charity ball she’s planning and she trapped me in a one sided conversation about seating arrangements on my way out the door.” Tim offered her a conciliatory grimace and Damian winced in sympathy. Neither of them was a stranger to the tedium of planning a high society event.
“It was no problem,” Drake said, waving a hand through the air. “I always enjoy getting the opportunity for unique experiences, and last night certainly qualified. Oh! Speaking of unique experiences, Damian, how do you feel about doing a little sightseeing with me while Bruce is busy listening to Valerie Gray’s sales pitch?”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “Sightseeing. In Amity Park?”
“Nope!” Drake said cheerfully as he pulled the car keys for Father’s rental from his pocket and started twirling them around on his finger. “There’s a town a little over an hour away from here called Casey that has a bunch of oversized items, like the world’s largest rocking chair and the world’s largest barber’s pole, and—”
“Sounds thrilling,” Damian interrupted, resisting the temptation to roll his eyes. Really? He couldn’t come up with anything better than a big pole? This had to be one of the lamest cover stories Drake had ever manufactured, there was no way Sam was going to buy this—
“Oh, wow, you’re going up to Casey? Danny’s parents took him and Jazz there this summer for a family road trip. He didn’t have fun, but that’s because a ghost named Skulker followed him there and modified the big mouse trap to catch him in, and it was this whole thing. That probably won’t happen to you boys, though. I’ll be sure to mention to Danny and Tuck that you’re leaving town for the evening so they know not to worry about you getting into trouble. Have fun!”
Damian stared in shock as Sam just smirked at him and waved before turning around and going back to her car. That… that had been too easy. It was as though Sam was daring him to follow them…
“Welp. That got rid of her more quickly than I thought it would,” Drake said happily before a familiar, serious look settled on his face. It was a look with purpose, worn whenever Drake was on a mission, and Damian had learned years ago that he’d better pay attention to what he was doing when he was like this. “Now come on, car’s over there, I’ve already loaded it with what we need. We don’t want them to leave without us.”
Damian held back his questions until they were both in the rental car and buckled in, but once Drake had put the vehicle into motion, he no longer saw a need to hold back. “We’re going after Team Phantom and not to some Illinois roadside tourist trap, correct?”
“Duh,” Drake said with a scoff.
“How do you plan to accomplish this? Does Father know your plans for this excursion, and has he approved? Do we even have any gear?”
Drake rolled his eyes as they drove out of the parking lot. They must be a minute and a half behind Sam, and given how Drake immediately started speeding down the streets of Amity, he wanted to close that gap as much as possible. “Yes, Bruce knows what we’re up to this time. He and I were poking through some files we pulled from Fenton Works yesterday and found the blueprints for the vehicle that Team Phantom uses for their excursions. We determined that there’s a storage space we could theoretically fit you and I into and stow away so we can listen in on what they find. We just need to break into their lab and sneak onboard before they leave. I grabbed two comm sets and a few small weapons that aren’t traceable to our hero identities, but most of our gear is probably going to be useless against ghosts anyway. I’m not even confident our comms will work once we cross over.”
“I still have the ghost shield watch,” Damian reminded him while reaching down to fish it out of his pocket so he could clip it back on his wrist.
Drake gave a satisfied nod and patted one of his own pockets. “My Ghost Glasses are in their case, I’ll put them on once we get there.”
Damian nodded back and the two of them lapsed into silence. Damian leaned back and would have contended himself with watching the strange city speeding by, but Drake cleared his throat a few minutes later.
“You know, you don’t need to come with me for this. I should have asked before we—”
“Of course I need to accompany you,” Damian snapped, frowning at his brother. “The entire point of me joining the mission early was so that I could join this venture! Why on earth would I sit out and let you go solo?”
Drake took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Look. If we end up getting caught stowing away by Team Phantom, and there’s a real chance we will be since we’re going into a hostile alternate dimension practically blind, they’re definitely going to be pissed at us. What we’re doing is not cool, nor will it help us earn their trust in the long term, and I probably wouldn’t be willing to do it if Bruce’s life weren’t on the line. And I’ve made my peace with the situation since Danny is plenty annoyed with me already after last night and bad first impressions are pretty much par for the course with me anyway. But are you ok with that? Sam’s your friend, and it’s not like you’ve got a ton of those to lose.”
Damian glared at him. “When I read between the lines of our conversation on the way to the hotel, Sam seemed to imply that she thought I should come along if I thought I could handle it. And even if she isn’t already in favor of the idea, I trust that she’ll understand that my need to protect my family is paramount. I don’t believe I have to worry about damaging my friendship with her over this.”
“Alright. And the other two?”
Damian frowned. Drake was keeping his gaze steadily fixed on the road and asking his questions with a hesitant quality that he really only got when he was feeling awkward about something. And yes, Drake was an awkward person in general so it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but he didn’t see what there was in this instance for him to even feel awkward about. “I met Fenton and Foley for the first time half an hour ago. Why should I care what they think of me?”
Drake opened his mouth and took a deep breath as if he had something to say, before he glanced over at Damian and snapped his jaw closed. “No reason,” he muttered, turning his eyes back onto the road. “No reason at all…”
Damian scowled at the road ahead of them. “Whatever. And stop trying to manage my social life. You’re starting to sound like Richard, it’s bizarre.”
Drake surely was the oddest duck in their large and unique family. Why out of everyone did it have to be him that Damian got stuck on this mission with?
Tim was stuck in a cramped cabinet with Damian’s pointy elbow jabbing into his stomach with nothing to do but stare blankly at the darkness and listen to Team Phantom bicker about something that had gone wrong in their shared home ec class. His right arm was wedged behind Damian so he couldn’t check his watch, but his internal clock combined with the growing cramps in his legs told him it had been approximately forty five minutes since they’d departed the lab, and their unwitting chaperones had yet to find the ghost called Amorpho so that Phantom could interrogate him. But as far as he was concerned, that was fine; he’d always been good at this part of the job—the waiting.
Sure, it was less thrilling than the sneaking portion of the evening (which, between the blueprints of Fenton Works that Bruce had managed to copy the previous day and his and Damian’s extensive stealth training, had gone off without a hitch). It was also less immediately engaging than any fighting that might end up happening. But Tim had always possessed deep reserves of patience that seldom grew exhausted. It had been a necessary adaptation—as a kid, waiting out the long terms at boarding school, waiting for more clues to confirm Batman’s identity to turn up, waiting for the gaps in his parents schedules when they would pencil in an attempt at acting like a family; then as Robin, waiting out his training to truly come into the role, waiting for Batman’s approval and acceptance into his world, and of course, literal sitting and waiting as they sat through countless stakeouts over the years. With all of that practice, he was well equipped for the current situation.
The same could not, unfortunately, be said about Damian.
For the first twenty minutes or so, Damian had been quiet enough, but after a while, Tim could tell he was starting to get exasperated with their current situation. His position in their hiding place allowed him to finger-spell messages of complaint on Tim’s inner arm, but Tim couldn’t respond because the arm that wasn’t trapped behind Damian was carefully tucked behind a row of fishing poles and he couldn’t risk jostling them. There wasn’t any light in the cabinet and Damian wasn’t wearing night vision lenses, so Tim couldn’t even blink a message in morse code to tell him to shut up. And Damian was certainly taking advantage of it, because once he’d exhausted complaints about their current position, his opinions on the members of Team Phantom who weren’t Sam, his annoyance at getting low key kidnapped by the Red Huntress earlier, and a scathing critique of Amity Park’s city planning, he’d decided to launch into a lengthy monologue about how Tim’s organizational system on the Batcomputer was flawed and inefficient.
Tim might have a deep well of patience, but it wasn’t endless, and it was being steadily depleted by a little brother shaped bucket. He gritted his teeth and tried to stop automatically translating the patterns incessantly being traced on his arm; he didn’t keep zip ties in his civilian jacket, but maybe when Team Phantom got off of their speeder to interrogate Amorpho, he could use the lines on the fishing pole to tie Damian’s wrists together…
Suddenly, the vehicle they were in came to an abrupt stop. Both him and Damian fell forwards against the door of the storage closet, but none of the other occupants of the ship seemed to notice the slight thunk over their conversation. Tim didn’t bother to readjust; rather, he took advantage of the new position to twist and lean his ear against the door so he could more clearly hear the sounds from the main part of the ship. Damian’s arm writing also cut off as he was no doubt listening in tool.
“There he is! Right by that giant floating eyeball!” Tucker exclaimed.
“Sweet, I’ll just pop out there and see what he can tell me,” Phantom said. “You two wait in here; check in with Red, see how it’s going back in Amity.”
Tim heard the sound of a hydraulic lock disengaging, and then closing again.
“You know, I’d follow him out on principal because he’s been really annoying about giving us orders lately…” Tucker said, sounding both fond and mildly exasperated. “...however, the noxious clouds of sulfur we were just driving through are a compelling reason to stay in the cabin with the filtered air.”
Sam laughed. “Right?”
“Well, should we call Val then, anyway, just for something to do? Even though Danny told us to?”
“Nah. I’m sure she’d let us know if she was having any problem with the Waynes,” Sam said, and Tim frowned. Had she not told her friends that he and Damian were off ‘sightseeing’? That was… weird. “Besides, I don’t think we’ll be here long. Amorpho looks pretty annoyed.”
“Oh, yeah… damn, I didn’t know he could turn that color.”
“He can look like anything, or anyone, why wouldn’t he—oh, hey, Danny. How’d it go?”
The door had opened and closed again, and Tim heard Phantom awkwardly clear his throat. “Well, it uh… wasn’t him.”
“Did he have any idea who else it could be?” Tucker asked.
“Not that he said, but he also wanted me to leave ASAP… I apparently interrupted a date.”
Tucker gasped. “With the eyeball?”
“It would appear so,” Phantom said, his voice climbing high with embarrassment. “That's why he was all the way out here.”
“Well. Good for Amorpho,” Tucker said, laughing. “I guess if your date doesn’t have a nose, the sulfur pits are a fine place for a getaway.”
“Alright, then it’s time for Plan B,” Sam said firmly. “Or in this case, plan C.”
Phantom groaned loudly, but he seemed to have gotten all protestations out of his system, because he didn’t complain further. Tim could hear the rapid beeping that he assumed was one of them entering a destination into a navigational system. Sure enough, a moment later Tucker spoke. “Alright, destination Clockwork’s lair. Arrival time… Five minutes.”
“Shit,” Phantom grumbled. “That means he actually wants to see us.”
“Ha!”
“Oh, don’t rub it in,” Phantom huffed. “It still doesn’t make any sense! What would Clockwork want with a living family of billionaires from New Jersey?”
Yes, why would a ghost in charge of the time stream be interested in them? Tim had to assume it had to do with their night lives rather than their civilian world, but given the scope of what his family had dealt with over the years, that hardly narrowed it down. And how did Bruce’s death fit into the picture? Perhaps the time ghost would know of a way to stop it?
“Well…” Sam hesitated for a moment. “As I mentioned last night, I have a theory.”
“Yeah, you said that. Finally going to share?”
“Yes,” Sam said, her voice hardening with determination. “And just—listen to everything I’ve got to say before you write it off, ok? I’ve put a lot of thought into this. Since last summer, actually.”
Ok, Tim didn’t like where this was going. He felt Damian go rigid where they were pressed together, and his brother quickly traced another message onto Tim’s arm: I think she knows.
No, no no no no—
“I think Damian is Robin.”
Fuck.
Bruce was not going to like this one.
Phantom and Tucker were both silent for a long moment, before Tucker asked, “what makes you say that?”
“Just… a hundred little things, I guess. The way he moves, the way he watches a room, the way he thinks about people and places and things. It always reminded me way too much of Danny—”
“The dude has my face, Sam, of course he reminded you of me,” Phantom interrupted. “That doesn’t make him a superhero.”
“No, it’s more than that,” she insisted. “And ok, look—if Damian is Robin, it would stand to reason that someone close to him would possibly be Batman, right? Someone like his insanely rich father who could totally afford the cost of being a vigilante, and who I’m sure you’ve noticed is a lot smarter than the media tends to give him credit for, and is also ridiculously fit for a man pushing fifty—”
“Hang on, if you think Damian Wayne is Robin and Bruce Wayne is Batman, does that mean you think Tim is one of those guys, too?” Phantom asked. “Red Bat or Wingbird, or whatever they go by? Cause honestly, that might explain a few things, like how he keeps tracking me down and sneaking up on me. Most people—hell, most ghosts— couldn’t manage that.”
Wingbird? Now that was a new one. Rude.
“Yes!” Sam said. “And it’s not just Tim—Damian has several other siblings. I bet if we counted Bruce Wayne’s children and Gotham City’s vigilantes, it would add up.”
“It would make it way less random for Bruce Wayne to fund the Justice League,” Tucker said thoughtfully. “I was wondering how that arrangement came to be. Previously my best guess was that he was secretly dating one of them.”
Ok, seriously, this was getting ridiculous. Was this how other people felt when the Bats were able to deduce their closely held secrets? Tim wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or insulted or embarrassed. Currently he was widely ricocheting between all three.
“It also explains why they’re all worked up about Mr. Wayne getting attacked by the ghost of Batman. We all know that nothing good ever comes from meeting your own future ghost.”
“Ah, fuck, you’re right,” Phantom said. “But still, a few weird behaviors do not automatically make someone a secret vigilante. We would need more evidence—”
“You’re right,” Sam said. Tim heard a set of approaching footsteps, and then Sam spoke again, suddenly much closer. “Alternatively, we could just ask them.”
And then the door was yanked open and Tim and Damian were tumbling out of the storage closet into a pile of limbs and green fishing poles on the floor of Team Phantom’s Ghost Zone Speeder.
Tim squinted against the lights that were nearly blinding after so long in the dark. There was a moment of stunned silence as the two parties regarded each other before Phantom flashed over to Sam’s side, his face clouded in anger.
“Why is it that every single time I turn around, you, Timothy fucking Drake-Wayne are somehow there?”
Tim winced as he rolled onto his side to untangle himself from Damian while being careful not to break any of the fishing poles. “Uhhhh…” Ok, he needed to do damage control immediately, that was pretty clear, but for some reason, his mind was coming up blank. How does one deflect suspicion when someone has all but confirmed your secret identity? “I don’t know, but it’s definitely not because I’m a superhero!”
“Ignore Drake, he’s being an imbecile, as usual,” Damian said coolly as he pushed himself up to stand. “There is a perfectly good explanation as to why we are here, and it is that Sam invited me. Drake just wouldn’t let me go alone.”
Phantom shot Sam a look of betrayal. “Sam—”
“I didn’t exactly ‘invite’ you,” Sam said, rolling her eyes.
Damian sniffed. “You practically dared me to follow you.”
She smirked at him, looking pleased. “Yeah, because I figured the only way you’d manage to pull it off was if you had some crazy good stealth abilities. Like the kind you might get fighting crime in a major city at night, every night.”
“Which he doesn’t do!” Tim cut in while trying to get a handle on his exponentially rising panic. He had to turn this around, somehow, but how do you turn around someone’s conclusions when they had already reached the destination? There was a reason Bruce worked so hard to deter even the thought of linking him to Batman. “And neither do I! And neither does Bruce! Damian is just… a weird kid, and so am I, and Bruce is a weird adult, but it’s all very normal Gotham weird, I promise. I mean, come on,” he boldly declared, holding his arms out to his sides and dropping his shoulders, trying to make himself look as defenseless and non threatening as possible. “Do I look like a superhero?”
Just then, the speeder shook underneath their feet, and Tim was knocked off balance and to the ground once more. A bright green light flared up around them before fading away just as quickly. Once it was gone, he glanced over at Damian, who’d also fallen, and saw—Robin. Shit. A familiar weight suddenly pressing down around his eyes made him think that possibly they might be double screwed, so he glanced down, and… yep.
Somehow, he and Damian had both suddenly materialized into their vigilante uniforms.
Sam was smirking knowingly, Tucker was gaping from behind her shoulder, and Phantom was glaring down at them with his arms crossed.
After another moment of silence, Phantom cleared his throat. “You were saying?”