Robin was hit.
Red Robin knocked the futuristic gun out of the perpetrator’s hands but not before it fired into the fight and hit Robin square in the chest. There was a rush of chaos and confusion immediately following. Nightwing takes the unconscious teen into his arms and retreats while the rest of the bats take down the rest of the thugs with brutal efficiency.
Red Hood and Spoiler stay behind to question the criminals and do some more investigating while Red Robin examines the gun used.
It’s hours later, with Robin still unconscious in the Batcave medbay, they figure out it’s an alien device originally used to find others of the same endangered race. Frankly, it didn’t at all explain why Damian was still unconscious, or why he fell unconscious to begin with. From the research they found, it shouldn’t physically alter or affect the individual. Which leads them to believe the device had been tampered with.
Tensions were high. Answers were scarce. Doubts were increasing as well as fear and anger.
It came to a head almost twenty-four hours later when Damian violently wakes up.
From one moment to the next, the teen goes from being completely unaware to gasping awake. Dick, who had been by his side through this ordeal, is so startled he shouts in surprise. He jumps from his seat to keep Damian from hurting himself as the boy thrashes in the bed.
Tim comes running in from where he was stationed at the Bat computer to see Damian screaming and struggling against their older brother’s calming hands. The heart monitor is going ballistic and if Damian keeps flailing he’ll rip out his IV.
“Tim!”
He already knows what Dick wants and dashes toward the medicine cabinet for a sedative. It doesn’t take long for the drug to do its job with Dick holding down Damian.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. I got you. I got you,” Dick reassures as Damian loses his strength and sags into the bed.
Tim is already texting Bruce about the situation, not wanting to leave Dick by himself.
“What was that?” Tim asks out loud.
He had never seen Damian act like that except for when he got fear gassed. They had run every test they could think of when he came in, he was clean.
Dick is running his fingers through Damian’s hair soothingly even though the teen is out of it.
“I don’t know. Something’s off.”
They only gave him a small dose, but Damian is out for another six hours. In that time they had ran all the tests again to find nothing abnormal and Jason had pulled in about four hours in to park his butt at the work bench to clean his weapons in front of Bruce and within hearing distance.
When Damian wakes again, it’s sluggish from the drugs. He blinks and groans. Dick is at his side immediately.
“Hey, Baby Bat. How you feeling?”
Damian pulls at the cushioned restraints around his wrists. The teen wrinkles his brows in confusion and looks down.
“You want them off? The first time you woke up you almost ripped your IV out,” Dick explains as he carefully unlatches the Velcro.
“Oh,” Damian mumbles and then thinks about the words. “What?”
Bruce walks through the door. Jason lingers in the doorway peering in to check on the kid.
“There you are. You had us worried,” Bruce says. He stands at the side of the bed to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder while his eyes scan the monitors.
“Sorry.”
That got their attention.
“‘Sorry’?” Jason asks incredulously as he pushes off the doorway to stand at the end of the bed. “Since when have you ever apologized for anything?”
“Jason,” Dick hushes. “He just woke up. Give him a break.”
Damian rubs his free wrists as he looks around at them and the room. The longer they watch him they can see the lack of recognition in his eyes.
“What- what happened?”
Dick and Jason give each other a look at the stutter, but it’s Bruce that responds.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Damian looks down in thought, a hand coming up to fiddle with the IV site. Dick reaches over to pull his hand away. Surprisingly, Damian lets him.
“Um, I was- I was-… sorry,” he says in frustration.
“That’s okay. Take your time.”
Damian rubs at his face in a nervous mannerism he’s never shown before.
“I think I was doing homework? I- There’s this stupid project in history class that’s due in like two weeks and I’ve been procrastinating,” Damian shrugs.
Damian hadn’t once mentioned a history project.
He looks up at Bruce.
“Did I pass out or something?”
Bruce squeezes his shoulder before letting it drop. Dick was right, something is wrong.
“First, can you tell me your identification code?”
Dick shoots him a look that he ignores.
Damian blinks up at him.
“My what?”
Tension immediately seeps into everyone present.
“Your identification code, Dami, you remember it, right?” Dick pushes.
Damian turns to him in confusion.
“What are you talking about?”
“Did he hit his head when he went down?” Jason demands. He turns to Bruce. “I thought you checked for a concussion!”
Damian actually shrinks away from the aggressive tone. Bruce raises a hand for silence. He bends to get eye level with the teen.
“Do you know where you are?”
Damian glances around with cautious eyes.
“…The hospital?”
Dick puts a hand over his mouth in disbelief. Damian sends him a look.
“Not the hospital?”
“No,” Jason answers. “Not the hospital.”
“Do you know who I am?” Bruce asks next.
Damian studies him too closely, looking for context clues. It didn’t leave a lot of confidence.
“My… doctor?”
Dick stands abruptly to pace.
“What is happening?” He demands to no one.
“That’s what I want to know,” Damian chimes in.
“Damian,” Bruce calls to get his attention. “Damian, look at me.”
The teen turns to him in bewilderment.
“Who’s Damian?”
That question freezes them.
“What?” Jason asks. “Who the- If you’re not Damian, who are you?”
“Me? Who are you?”
Dick intervenes with raised hands. He approaches the bed like the teen is a scared animal.
“Okay. We’re starting over. Hi. I’m Dick. What’s your name?”
Not-Damian looks him up and down suspiciously.
“I’m Danny. Fenton. Danny Fenton. You- I thought you called me by my name earlier?”
Dick thinks back and gives a tight smile. “I said ‘Dami’, short for Damian, not Danny.”
Danny slumps back into the bed. “Oh.”
“We’ll figure this out, kiddo. Don’t worry-“
Bruce’s phone rings with an unknown number. He glances at the teen and shows him the screen.
“Do you recognize this number?”
“Yea, it’s mine,” Danny confesses.
Bruce puts it on speaker.
“Damian.”
“Father, it seems I’ve switched bodies with a civilian,” comes the voice.
“Wait, what?” Danny pats himself down. “Switched bodies?!”
