#part 11

Someone is trying to force him into slumber. He may be a dead man walking, but he is no one's helpless prisoner. Reaching deep within himself, Dan grasps around the parts that make him a ghost and warps his form with the burn of his ice-fire.

A familiar sensation washes over him, an ice-fire that builds around his chest and expands down his limbs. It's slightly bothered by the bomb strapped to his core, but it's not enough to stop Dan from burning away whatever they had done to him.

Unlike the drug that the kidnappers gave him a few weeks ago, whatever is in his system isn't overly harmful. It appears that it was intended to put him to sleep so he could actually get it out of his body.

He hasn't shifted into his ghost form the entire time he has been in this universe. It wasn't for the lack of trying, but Clockwork had likely (correctly) assumed that Dan wouldn't help Batman's humanity if he refused to be in his human form, so he locked it near the bomb, and if he tugged on his ghost powers too much, it would trigger the boom.

Dan isn't sure if Danny had the same problem; he never bothered to ask and figured that if he gave a white lie about the multiple cameras everywhere, Danny would be cautious enough not to "Go Ghost" so the idiot wouldn't explode.

The last of foreign sustenance fades into nothing within himself, and the world is suddenly clear. He can concentrate on his surroundings now, frowning at what he saw.

Dan is in a large, luxurious bedroom, fit for a king, with sleek furniture and a black and red color scheme. It resembles a room a villain would use in a modern drama, which is tacky and completely lacking any personal touch.

He was lying on an Alaskan King bed with curtains hung up on the bed frame. To his right is a large screen TV, taking up nearly the entire wall, and various gaming systems are placed underneath it- he's seen some in his fashion trends research. He figured he should know what settings made his outfits pop and what sort of lighting would affect the visual appeal of the fabric. He never had the desire to even touch the gaming systems, though.

To his left is a strangely organized copy of his studio, featuring various mannequins, fabrics that most of which have cost a fortune, and a really nice-looking design table. What really caught his attention, however, was the multiple storage organizers stacked on top of each other: he could spot multiple buttons, threads, glitter, cutting devices, and who knows what else.

It was like a fabric store threw up on that side of the room.

Dan's fingers twitch with the urge to go over there and explore the studio. He dislikes the tidiness; it looks like a museum, and he struggles to work with things in order. He thrives on chaos, and someone completely disregarded that.

A direct insult to his obsession.

Scowling at the studio, now only seeing it as an insult at best, a pathetic attempt to bait him into staying in his cage at worst, Dan leaps to his feet. He feels around the walls, searching for a door. It might be out of sight, since this room had no windows or doors, but there has to be somewhere in and out here.

His fingers run across all the walls, but he does not feel any indents that show there is a doorway. Huffing Dan decided to make his own. Pressing his lips to his right knuckles in a quick kiss for good luck, Dan lets it fly as fast and hard as he can at the wall.

The moment his hand makes contact with the wall, spider-like cracks spread across the surface, followed by a loud bang. The cracks scatter across the surface before it crumbles, falling down like broken cards.

He finds himself looking into a long, dark hallway, with no visible guards. Dan is more insulted that they thought they didn't have to put him under surveillance, so assured that they would not be able to get out of the room.

He steps over the whole, shaking out his fist a little. That was steadier than he was expecting, but nothing he couldn't handle. He looks left, then right, wondering which direction to go.

If Danny were here, he likely would go towards the right, where a spark of light was visible. The brat would justify this decision with an explanation that there was likely a sign indicating the exit. They needed to escape, to regroup, gather information, and only then would they fight the people that did this to them, Danny would say.

Dan goes left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Danny bolts upwards with a scream of frustration, leaping from his bed and pointing in the general direction his counterpart was known for working on his fashion. "Dan, I know you're doing something stupid! Cut it out!"

It takes him a moment to notice something odd. The first, Danny is cold, which hasn't really happened since coming to Gotham. Yes, it was cloudy, and it rained more, but this felt like he stepped into a freezer instead of walking around Gotham.

The second is the bright light flashing in his face. It's not like they didn't use the lights in their Gotham house, but Dan had so many fabrics flung everywhere in the house that it tended to interfere with the brightness.

And the third, he was not currently pointing dramatically down the hallway of his temporary residence, but instead, he was pointing at a large glass wall. Behind the glass was a man dressed in the weirdest outfit he's seen so far.

A mask with twin peaks at the top and a long cape covered his body like a weird pancho. The man was staring back at him- at least Danny thinks, since the mask blocks the eyes, leaving the man in a white lens stare- without a hint of emotion.

There is a long pause between them before Danny slowly lowers his arm to use it to try to cover his body as best he can. He's not sure why this guy was watching him sleep, but he doesn't think it's for a good reason.

"How are you feeling?" The man asks as Danny slowly lowers himself back onto the bed, scrambling for the blanket —the really soft, fluffy kind that he's sure causes way more warmth than any blanket should.

"What?"

"How are you feeling?" The man repeats. His voice is oddly devoid of emotion

"I'm feeling like you're about to steal my skin." He snarks, curling the blanket up to his chin.

There is a twitch at the man's mouth, as if he's fighting a smile before it smooths over. "I have no use for your skin."

"How dare you. This flawless skin pays my bills."

Another twitch, but this time he can tell that the amusement hasn't slipped away. "Are you not feeling any aches? Sorness?"

Danny narrows his eyes. "Why are you asking?"

"Do you not remember what happened?" The humor is gone now. Storwed away in some emotional vault that Danny knows Jazz would love to break into. The man moves his arm, causing his cape to open and reveal a suit that resembles a blend of spandex and armor.

It's skin-tight, showing off abs, biceps, and leg muscles that anyone back home would kill for. Danny's jaw drops slightly at the display, even if the man is too busy clicking a remote at a wall. A TV lowers itself from who knows where, showing a video of himself being rushed into the glass-wall room by the stranger and a kid in a black hood.

Danny watches himself as his form slowly deteriorates, while the two scramble to plug machines into him. It's like he's watching some of the clones Vlad made fall apart, and it's not until the kid's sword accidentally gets caught on some gas tank. The gas tank is knocked over, breaking upon hitting the ground, and it lets out a stream of white gas strong enough that it flies through the room, somehow covering Danny's half-melted body.

It's easy to tell it's Liquid nitrogen by the sudden frost and ice. There is a moment of genuine panic in the video until Danny's form snaps back into place. The video ends with a man and a child looking at each other in a daze, then rushing out to bring in more tanks like the one he had knocked over.

"Earlier today, you ran to me for help. When we got you back to my house, you collapsed, and your body started melting. We had no idea why, what was happening, or what your situation was. I brought to my cave to try and provide medical assistance- it became obvious that the only thing working was placing you in a low temperature environment." The man explained, distracting body now thankfully covered by his cape again.

It takes Danny's brain a few seconds to process what he said, but when he does, he snaps his head in all directions. They're in a cave, he notices, and he's inside a makeshift freezer with the temperature well in the negatives.

The stranger seems content with letting Danny take all of that in, as his fuzzy mind tries to gather information, when suddenly it all snaps into place.

Leaping to his feet again- and nearly slipping over the edge of it, that has him swinging his arms like a windmill- Danny points accusingly at him, "Batman! You're Batman!"

The man nods once, and Danny lets out a noise that almost sounds like a wild hog releasing a victory cry. Batman stares back impassively, but his shoulders have tensed a bit as Danny scrambles off the bed and scurries towards the glass, pressing his face against it until his nose starts to hurt, his cheeks are flat, still that does nothing to hide his smile.

"I've come to save your humanity, Batman! Have you hugged your children?!"

Batman doesn't respond for a solid minute, allowing Danny's heavy breathing to fill the silence before the man clicks his remote again. This time, the screen displays a woman who looks vaguely familiar, a celebrant of some kind?

"I looked into your mother. I believe she used you as a sacrifice in a death magic ritual-" Batman starts, but Danny steamrolls that boring tale with a stream of emotional good habit tips Jazz had once given him.

"-I know it sounds stupid, but really, if having conversations is tough, writing a letter to yourself or the other person can be a good way to explain how you feel about them."

Batman holds up a hand. " Marina meant well, but the spell she used to try to teleport you off your island. We found this in your chest."

The image changes to one of Clockwork's amulets, and the words die in Danny's mouth. He pats his chest area searching for the ticking sound or sensation he has grown accustomed to.

It's not there.

Batman took out Clockwork's bomb while his body was dissolving. That sentence doesn't even make sense!

Danny's eyes go wide. "Are you a god?"

Batman frowns. "No. I'm not sure where Marina was trying to send you, but it wasn't to me. She was aiming for a death god."

"What? Who's Marina?"

"...Your mother?"

"My mom's name is Madeline. Madline Fenton." Danny pressed himself against the glass further. "Why would you think this Mariana is my mom?"

"She was the one to use a highly illegal and dangerous death ritual. Mariana Fenton is also listed as your mother in the government records of Santa Prisca. Your father's name was also listed: it's Eduardo Dorrance, better known as Bane."

He said that last part gravely, like Danny would be shocked by the news that Bane had supposedly fathered him, but Danny can only blink slowly. "My dad's name is Jack."

Batman's face doesn't twitch anymore. Instead, he frowns. Deeply. Concern. "Was that the man who raised you and your brother?"

"Dan was raised by the screams of his enemies," Danny responds without missing a beat. "Never mind him. We need to focus on you. Have you ever been in love? Love is the strongest magic in the world, right behind the power of friendship. There is nothing more human than the power of love."

Batman opens his mouth, but whatever he was going to say is cut off by a giant boom that shakes the whole cave. He spins around, three throwing knives suddenly in between his fingers, and Danny notices he stands in front of him, almost as if Batman were going to protect him.

From behind the muscular back, Lord have mercy, Danny can't see what caused the explosion, but he can definitely hear it.

"My King! I have come to rescue you!" A woman screeches in a curious accent. It reminds him of old Hollywood, the kind that was in black and white and was filmed in the 1920s. Her voice echoes through the cave, and his head comes from everywhere and nowhere.

Danny claps his hands over his ears, trying to drown her out, because she's far too loud. "Who are you?!"

"It is I, Gotham!"

The word explodes into darkness as Batman flings his knives.

Huffing, Danny marched his way up the stairs and to the room he'd been staying in. Jason was behind him, though he went further down the hall to his own room.

"You sure you don't wanna eat with everyone?" Jason called before either of them entered their rooms.

Danny didn't answer, choosing instead to walk straight through the pine door and lock it from the inside. He ignored The sigh he heard Jason heave.

The first thing he noticed was that someone had been in his room in the last few hours. Nothing was obviously disturbed, and all of the less than mediocre traps were undisturbed, but his door had been unlocked and the ceiling light was still ever so slightly warm. So they'd been in his room within the past hour.

It wasn't Alfred. It didn't smell like tea and shotgun shells. Jason's scent of old books and gunpowder was lingering, but that's because Danny had spent most of the day with him. He hadn't been around any other the others, so the only downside was that he couldn't place the smell to a person.

Whoever it was wasn't in there anymore. Beyond that, and making sure nothing was missing or added in, he didn't really care.

He swept for bugs.

There was a single camera just above the curtain rods, a microphone with it. Danny shook his head but didn't otherwise do anything. Electronics didn't work around him unless he wanted them to, so he wasn't too worried, though he'd probably get rid of it sooner rather than later.

He opted to shower. The water pressure was awesome, and the water was able to get a lot colder than he thought, though he'd never complain about a good, cold shower.

While the closet was nice, Danny decided to find a new hiding spot. Everyone would look for him in the room they expected him to be in, so, when he heard Jason go down for dinner, he left to go hide in Jason's room.

There were so many books in there that he almost thought it was a library instead of a bedroom. He had to look really hard to find the bed, which was settled in a corner next to the windows. Overall, the basic layout was the same as the one he'd been given, so he took a guess and opened one of the two doors and found the closet. Just as he hopped, there was just enough room for him to hide out on the top shelf.

Barely an hour later, Alfred came into the room. "Master Danny," he called softly, "The others are all heading down to the Batcave, if you'd like to join them. They'd like to invite you to patrol with them tonight."

Danny was only a bit surprised the butler knew where he was. He didn't respond.

"Very well. In case you'd like to listen in, I'll leave a comm on the bookshelf next to the closet door on the third shelf from the top." After a moment, he was gone.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed to himself. He didn't need to listen in. Why would he? It's not like they needed him no one ever needed him he'd be any use to them even if he did go out. He had his team, they had theirs. Getting their wires crossed like this was only going to mess them up in the field.

He doesn't care about these guys. None of them were there to help him when he needed it. None of them where there to stop Deathstroke or Talia or Ra's from hurting him. He was just here because Talia said he had to be. He was only here in case Damian got hurt. That's why he was created in the first place.

This is part 11 I believe.

--

"Stone."

"Hnnngh."

"You're drooling on me."

The Hybrid made an odd gurgling noise that could have been English, but as it stood, he let out a snort afterwards and proceeded to drift off to sleep again.

Rolling his eyes, Robotnik was grateful he had changed into pajamas when he decided to comfort the injuried Hybrid.

Once Bouthill and Walters had left, Robotnik couldn't stand seeing Stone glassy-eyed and on the verge of sleep but fighting it fiercely. The pain meds Bouthill gave Stone were strong.

As soon as Robotnik slipped into the bed alongside Stone, the Hybrid didn't waste a single second and was wrapped around him in an instant. Now, the Hybrid was nearly laying on top of him, Stone's head resting on his shoulder and completely out of it.

Sighing, Robotnik put down his tablet and ran his fingers through Stone's hair and played with his ears.

He still had no idea why Stone had been restrained at the training. Stone was well trained, there shouldn't be any reason to hold him down and then have Stone struggle so hard, he received such harsh bruises.

Hopefully once the pain meds left his system, he'd be more talkative.

--

"Stone."

The agent froze on the screen, his eyes darting up to stare back at the camera lense.

"Doctor?"

"Get back into bed."

"But--"

"That's an order, agent."

Robotnik rolled his eyes at the way Stone's shoulders slumped and his tail fell between his legs as he turned away from the elevator and went back to the bedroom.

Leaning forward, Robotnik rubbed his temples with both hands, feeling a headache coming on.

That was the fourth time in an hour he had to get after Stone. The first time, it had been comical watching the Hybrid stumble around, trying to make him a latte on his bum leg and his arm in a sling.

However, after the third time, he was quickly becoming irritated.

Stone knew better.

But.

Stone also hated being alone without anything to do.

Suddenly, a destroyed and badly reconstruction lamp popped into Robotnik's mind. If Stone knew what was good for him, he wouldn't dare mess with any of Robotnik's possessions.

After Stone had slept for nearly twenty hours, he had refused any more meds. Meaning he was wide awake with nothing more to do than sort Robotnik's emails.

He had meant for this to be relaxing for Stone. Let the Hybrid rest.

As it stood, it only made things worse.

Glancing over at the camera feed showing the inside of his bedroom, he saw Stone curled up in bed. His ears were flat as he half-heartedly chewed on a toy.

"Damn mutt," Robotnik grumbled to himself as he pulled up a new screen.

--

"Grab whatever you need to entertain yourself."

Stone cocked his head to the side, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Why, doctor?"

"Because you're coming down to the lab with me."

Instantly, Stone's eyes lit up and his tail began slapping the bed. He had made a sort of nest out of the blankets, which were quickly becoming covered in dog hair. With Stone's hurt shoulder, he hadn't been able to brush his tail properly.

"I can start working again?" Stone's smile was wide as he stared at him with hope.

"That's not what I said," Robotnik snapped. "You're off duty for another two weeks. Instead, you'll stay in the lab so I can keep an eye on your recovery."

"Oh..."

Robotnik wanted to groan at the sight of Stone's enthusiasm shriveling up and dying. He looked as if he would start tearing up. Damn him and his expressive eyes.

"I don't have all day. Get your stuff."

Bottom lip sticking out slightly, the Hybrid gathered up a few of the toys he had been playing with to stave off boredom. Satisfied, Robotnik offered a hand to help him up. Stone's tail started lazily wagging again as he leaned on Robotnik as they made their way to the elevator.

The ride down was filled with Robotnik strategically avoiding Stone's hopeful glances, instead he stared straight ahead.

As soon as they made their way into the main lab, he felt Stone stop and let out a small whine.

"Doctor..."

"Don't you start, you annoying canine."

Off to one side of the lab, in direct eye line of Robotnik's favorite chair and console, was a cot. While it looked simple, Robotnik hadn't skimped on the material. The mattress was the best quality he could find on short notice while the blankets were soft and one of them electric. He had even bought beef jerky sticks to help incentivize Stone to stay in the bed.

"You'll be staying here so you don't go wandering off," Robotnik informed him, practically dragging Stone towards the bed.

"But, doctor--!"

"No buts!"

Stone didn't resist as Robotnik gently shoved him in onto the bed, but that didn't stop his non-threatening glare. Reaching forward, Robotnik scratched behind Stone's ear and watched as the Hybrid's body instinctively relaxed at the touch.

"Stay."

--

Stone lasted an hour before he slinked out of the bed.

Robotnik used a spray bottle to chase him back.

The spray bottle only worked three times before Stone bravely decided he didn't care and defying orders was worth getting sprayed.

The fifth time, Robotnik gave in.

"Stone, come here."

The Hybrid almost tripped in his excitement as he came shuffling over, barely conscious of his sprained ankle. He dropped into Robotnik's lap, and arranged himself how he liked.

"You're all wet," Robotnik glared.

"Sorry, sir," Stone smiled up at him before resting his head on a shoulder, pleased to get his way.

Ignoring the body nestled in his lap, Robotnik continued to work. His hand would occasionally leave the keyboard to pet whatever body part was closest, earning him a satisfied sigh.

--

If looks could kill, Robotnik was sure Stone would have killed him over a dozen times over by this point.

Another week had passed, with Stone trying every tactic to get out of resting. He has tempted Robotnik with his excellent lattes, allowing Stone to leave the bed and make them. However, when he would offer to make one every half hour, he was quickly banned from doing that.

He reminded Robotnik that due to the fact he was out of commission, Robotnik would now have to deal with other agents on the base. Wouldn't it be better if he let Stone do that and have to deal with idiots?

The little rascal had even faked hearing someone at the door. Why Robotnik actually believed him when he had technology to notify him, was beyond even his genius.

That little trick had placed Stone in his current position.

He sat cross legged on the bed with a permanent scowl as a leash tied his collar to the wall. Robotnik had threatened to tie his hands too if he even thought about unclipping the leash.

A tablet sat in his lap, completely dark. It was the only entertainment other than his toys that Robotnik allowed him. He was not allowed to do any work, in case he got any ideas of leaving the bed. Again.

Robotnik was ready to drug him and be done with the attitude.

All morning, Stone let out small huffs and sighs, then proceeded to let out louder noises. Robotnik ignored everything. If Stone didn't have sensitive hearing, he would have pumped music into the lab to drown out the increasingly annoying Hybrid. As it stood, he couldn't even wear his headphones in case Stone took advantage.

By the time lunch had rolled around, Stone had chewed through a toy completely. Robotnik had laughed when Stone had to spit out bits of the toy and pout. Robotnik had reordered the toy without thinking.

Ping!

Glancing over the camera showing the outside of the lab, Robotnik frowned. What did Walters want?

Sending a badnik to retrieve the man, Robotnik could see movement out for the corner of his eye. Turning, he raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think he'll care, Stone."

The Hybrid froze, his hand halfway towards a toy. He had been frantically shoving them underneath the blankets, hiding them.

"Ah..." Stone glanced at him nervously. "Are you sure?"

"I'll have him banned from his favorite Olive Garden if he says anything."

A warm feeling grew in his chest as he watched Stone relax and send him a small smile.

The sound of the elevator drew their attention away from each other as Walters stepped out. He was wearing his normal military garb, but was carrying two bulging bags.

"What do you want, Walters?" Robotnik called out.

"I wanted to check on Agent Stone," the old man happily replied. "How are you feeling, agent?"

Robotnik glared at the way Stone sat up straighter and nodded towards Walters respectfully. Where the hell was this good behavior the last two weeks?

"Better, commander. Ready to go back to work."

"Still another week of rest, I believe," Walters chuckled. "I know how hard it is to be stuck in bed, so I thought I would bring you something."

Both Stone and Robotnik stared at him with confusion. Why would he bring Stone a gift?

"I always get terribly bored on planes, so I thought I'd pick up a hobby, but it seems my fingers never got the hang of it," Walteds explained, handing Stone the two bags.

The Hybrid opened them as if they were bombs before his ears straightened and Robotnik heard the tell-tale 'thump-thump' of his tail hitting the blankets.

"Yarn, sir?"

"There's patterns for both crochet and knitting, depending on which one you want to try out. I'm sure Ivo can order you other colors if you don't like these ones."

"No, I like them. Thank you, commander."

Stone immediately began pulling out completely untouched balls of yarn, new needles, and pristine books on knitting and crochet. Robotnik narrowed his eyes.

"I hope this makes your recovery easier, agent," Walters placed a hand on Stone's shoulder, sending him his classic grandfatherly smile.

"A little less boring, at least. Thank you again, sir."

"Of course," Walters nodded. "Ivo, would you mind walking me out?"

"What? Going senile already?" Robotnik sneered.

"Ivo."

Blinking, Robotnik had to think back to the last time Walters had used the tone on him. Must have been during his third doctorate when he kept threatening the university.

"Fine. Stone, stay."

"Yes, doctor," Stone mumbled, already cracking open one of the books.

Walters didn't say anything else until he gestured for Robotnik to enter the elevator with him. Muttering under his breath, Robotnik wasn't expecting Walters to turn on him when the elevator doors shut, his face stormy.

"Have you lost your mind? You can't leash your agent!"

"He wouldn't listen!"

"Then you should have sent him somewhere else to recover, not keep him locked up!"

"I am not!" Robotnik hissed. Their faces were almost touching, the air becoming heated in the small space. "Where the hell would he have gone? Back to that hellhole of a training? He's safer with me!"

"That may be, but you can't keep treating him like this!" Walters' anger was slowly ebbing away and turning into exasperation as he pulled back. "Where did he even get that collar?"

"I gave it to him," Robotnik sniffed.

Walters gaped at him.

"Ivo, I swear..." Walters pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you even know what that means to Hybrids?"

"It means something?"

Now Walters head was in his hands. He let out a heavy sigh before pulling his hands way, his face appearing ten years older all of a sudden. For a brief moment, Robotnik felt guilty. Only for a moment though.

"Ivo, please do your research before you do anything else with Stone. Please don't get the poor boy's hopes up if you don't mean it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Robotnik was completely baffled. Get Stone's hopes up? For what?

The elevator doors slid open once more as Walters gave him a smile full of pity.

"You're smart, Ivo. You'll figure it out. Just know that I'm happy for you two."

With one more exasperated look, Walters walked out of the elevator and then the lab doors.

Watching him go, Robotnik glared.

Why did he always feel like everyone else knew more about Hybrids than him?

Shaking his head, he hit the button to take him back down to the lab. He was shocked to see Stone still in the bed, his eyes glued to a book as his hands clumsily working away with a needle and yarn.

Approaching Stone, Robotnik saw one of his ears twitch as he listened to Robotnik's footsteps. It wasn't until Robotnik was in front of him did he finally look up. Stone smiled brightly, his sharp teeth on display. The lab's lights bounced off Stone's collar, emphasizing the strong leather.