Code: GHOST
It all started when a number code flashed across the screen of the Batcomputer while Tim was working on a case.
7 8 15 19 20
Flashed across the screen several times to the point it made Tim think that someone somehow managed to hack into the Batcomputer. It was also a number code he was not familiar with at all. So Tim reported it back over their comms in hopes that maybe one of the others knew what the numbers meant. Because all he managed to figure out from it was that the number code was an alert on the Batcomputer, one that came with coordinates that lead into the middle of nowhere.
Tim was about to join the discussion Dick and Jason were having on it when Bruce silenced them all apruptly speaking up.
"Answer code 2 1 20, sent them to the coordinates attached. I will be in the cave in ETA3 and take over from there."
The sudden silence on their communication line spoke volumes especially when Tim new the numbers was a simply code for Bat. He still did what Bruce asked him to do but that didn't stop the questions running through Tim's mind. He watched on the screen of the Batcomputer how the moment he sent the code in return, Programs started like on autopilot. A map opening that contained nothing at first but then changed into a map of a whole good damn city. Tim could only gap at what was happening on the Batcomputer before Bruce appeared and pulled him away from his seat to take over himself.
Bruce without a beat of delay started to input more codes and apparently access codes too as more and more windows opened on the Batcomputer. Tim did not realise that with time Dick, Cass and Damian had joined him as they watched Bruce work away on the Batcomputer. At some point an audiotrack opened but all they could hear was only static. They thought Bruce was going to run it through one of the noise filtering programs.
But to the shock of them, Bruce suddenly triggered a hidden compartment on the console, causing it to flip over and reveal communication link build in a way non of them had ever seen before. It was silver with green accents and looked far... older and less sleek than any of the ones they used. It was clearly not designed to stay completely hidden if put into your ear.
They watched how he simply put that earpiece on and then replayed the audiotrack.
The batkids shared a look of confusion. Non of them sure what to make of the situation until suddenly Bruce stood up from the Batcomputer.
"Prepare for a rescue mission. Nightwing, Orphan and Robin will come with me, the rest of you will stay in Gotham." Was all the man said before storming of towards the Batplane.
"Bruce what is going on?!" Dick instead of going to prepare asked stoping the man before he could get away from them. "What is the meaning of that code? Aside from the fact that simply translated it means ghost."
Bruce eyed the batkids present for a moment before letting out a grunt. "Ghost is finally ready to join the family."
"Ghost?" Tim echoed confused, never having heard that alias for any of them.
"Father what do you mean, 'join the family'?" Damian chimed in clearly frowning with suspicion.
The man eyed them once more his eyes going over each of his children, it looked like he was contemplating telling them more for a moment before he stood to fully face them and let out a sigh. "Like Clark, I too have clone child."
There was a stunned silence. No one speaking up until Dick did. "How long...?"
"14 years ago"
The silence continued as they all did the mental math. Once more it was Dick who spoke up first, clearly stunned. "You had a clone since I was eleven and now is the first time I hear of that?! You never bothered telling any of us?!"
There was a long suffering sigh. "We got to Danny before he was aged up, he was a normal baby even if created in a laboratory, so it was best for him to grow up normally, with the league we arranged for him to be sent to selected family since I had my hands full with you and-"
"Danny?!" Dick cut in. "His name is Danny? Does he even know about us?"
"Dick." Bruce called out his tone warning. "Of course I kept an eye on Danny's life. And I did made contact with him when the time was appropriated considering some of the things that were happening for the boy as he grew up, however he is not aware that he is a clone and it will stay that way. He will get to know all of you once we finished this rescue mission."
Before Dick or any of the others could say anything more Bruce spoke up firmly again. "Get ready now, we do not have any more time. Anything else will be handled later."
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Honestly I think the fics where Danny’s a Kryptonian have a lot of potential, so here’s me throwing my hat into the ring
Danny was born a human. He was born to two loving (though slightly neglectful) human parents in the painfully mundane state of Illinois.
Then, he died, but he didn’t do it right. He became a Halfa; too alive to be a ghost, but too dead to be human.
Then, through strange, uncontrollable circumstances, that changed as well.
He had been heavily injured, missing a large percentage of body mass, and was at the cusp of either dying fully or just fading from existence.
(Perhaps it was an ordinary fight. Perhaps it was the GiW, or his parents. Perhaps it was a simple accident. That didn’t matter now.)
He fled, phasing through the ground, trying to bury himself as deep as possible.
(Perhaps he didn’t want to be unmasked in death. Perhaps that was already too late, and he just wanted his body be able to rest in peace.)
Unfortunately for him, he was in Metropolis, and ended up in a secret genetics lab below the earth.
Danny detransformed, completely exhausted, falling onto a table covered in different labeled specimen containers. He closed his eyes, and prepared himself for what would happen next.
And… nothing.
Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.
Danny sat up, brushing off the foul-smelling liquid from the specimen jars, petri dishes, and assorted vials.
He felt…fine.
No, better than fine. He felt normal. Healthy.
He felt like he wasn’t missing most of his internal organs anymore.
Danny looked down at his stomach, and saw that the wounds that were killing him had completely disappeared.
(The blood blossoms, if there had been any, were still there, but they no longer hurt. At most, they itched a little, or maybe just tickled a bit.)
He wanted to question what in the hell had just happened, but he didn’t want to jinx it. He just quietly changed back to Phantom, going invisible and phasing out of wherever he had found himself in, ignoring the loud alarm system that had begun to blare when he broke the samples on that table.
Life mostly went back to normal after that.
If, like Danny, you ignored all the physical changes in a valiant effort to remain in denial that something was horribly wrong.
His skin was tougher, now; he didn’t get scrapes or cuts, even when he accidentally fumbled a knife while trying to cook. His ghost form was stronger, too; he was barely knocked down by his old rogues anymore.
He could fly, even in his human form. Though, admittedly, the flight was much different. It was like using a muscle he hadn’t known existed beforehand. He didn’t just ignore gravity or wind resistance, though he felt more graceful in the air now than he ever did as Phantom.
There were more powers popping up, lasers and cold breath, x-ray vision and super strength. His lungs and heart were larger, and he could handle temperatures much easier. He didn’t have to transform to handle the pressure and cold of space anymore.
His reaction time had improved, becoming much faster than ever before. His senses were much stronger, and he had even seemed to gain a sense of electric fields, like a shark.
The only thing that separated him from a Kryptonian was that he had developed electrokenesis, which he had never seen any of them use on TV.
So, surely, he was fine.
Everything was normal, he hadn’t been transformed by alien DNA in a sketchy lab, he had just had a really weird and specific metagene activation.
—
Clark Kent, Kal-El, was panicking.
It had been around a month and a half since a particularly brutal fight between Interpol and an unknown assailant, and it seemed that Interpol was determined to draw out whoever had scorned them.
Their method of doing this, of course, was trying to level the city.
He and Jon were doing their best to stop them, but with both Kon and Zor-El away on their own business, it was difficult.
And by difficult, he meant almost impossible.
Slowly but surely he was driving them back, but not without massive amounts of damage to the city, especially with only Jon on dedicated rescuing duty.
He was distracted, trying to draw a group away from a heavily occupied building, when a projectile hit him in the back of the head.
The world spun for a moment, and then it went black.
(It was, probably, then, some sort of Kryptonite-metal alloy. Interpol at its finest.)
He woke slowly, forcing his eyes open. He felt like he had been hit by an eighteen wheeler.
Clark jolted up, preparing for the worst.
To his shock, though, the city hadn’t been reduced to rubble while he was out.
Jon seemed to still be working on evacuation, either unaware that he had went down or forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.
Then, a lightning-quick figure flew into view, and Clark’s mind went blank.
He thought, for a moment, that Kara was back. But, no, that wasn’t right, she was supposed to be off-planet for another week or so.
Besides, this new figure didn’t move like her. They were lankier and more slender, and they flew quicker than any member of his family.
Their powerset was different, too; they focused mainly on using blasts of ice and electricity to drive enemies back, only occasionally using their strength or lasers—ones which came from their hands instead of their eyes.
He had woken up at the tail end of the fight, it seemed. The remaining Interpol agents were fleeing from the mysterious metahuman.
They stayed in the sky, motionless, watching them leave.
As if they could sense him staring, they turned.
They were small, still clearly young. Probably around Kon’s age, or maybe even younger.
Instead of the colorful clothing he had inherited from his family, the stranger wore black and white clothes which looked similar to a hazmat suit, their face covered by some sort of gas mask.
Interestingly enough, instead of the S-shape crest that he was so used to seeing, the stranger wore the letter D on his chest.
Kal’s heart sped up.
From up in the sky, he heard the stranger’s heart, on the left instead of the right, speed up in return.
But before he could say a word to them, they sped off, disappearing into the deep blue sky.
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