Writing Prompt #14
"You foolish, stupid child," Vlad hisses, pinning Danny to the wall. Danny's eyes turn green as he wraps both his fists around the one Vlad has clenched in his collar, his feet dangling in the air. Vlad leans in, his own eyes burning red.
"When, exactly, did you plan on telling me your biological father was Bruce Wayne?" he says furiously.
Danny's hands drop in surprise. "W-What?" he gasps.
Vlad drops him unceremoniously and he lands on the floor in a heap. Vlad claws at the air in frustration.
"Don't lie to me, boy." Vlad says, omitting his often used possessive "my" in front of "boy".
"How do you know that?" Danny asks warily, propping himself up. He watches Vlad push a shaking hand through his hair. The man looks down at him before dropping in an ungainly squat beside him.
"Of all the sperm donors, Bruce Wayne, Daniel? Really?" The man asks, despairingly.
"I didn't exactly choose him, Vlad."
"No, I suppose you didn't."
"Seriously," Danny says, watching the man rock back on his heels as a growing pit forms in his stomach. "How did you know about him?"
Vlad's mouth twists bitterly. "Because he now knows about you."
"What do you—"
"Vladdy! Danno! What are the two of you doing on the floor?" Jack flops down beside them, a tray of freshly prepared fudge in his hands. "We having a heart-to-heart boys? Let me in on this!"
"Jack," Vlad says. "If you truly want to have a heart-to-heart with your son, I suggest you tell him the real reason I've come over today."
Jack's face falls.
"Vlad," Maddie says from behind him. "Thank you for coming. We're grateful for all you've done, but I think we can handle it from here."
"Madeline," Vlad says, rushing to his feet. "I must insist—"
"And I must insist you see yourself out," Maddie smiles tightly. "You know where the door is, don't you?"
"Mads," Jack says gently, looking between the two.
"I can show him out," Danny says, getting up as well.
"That's alright, Danny," Maddie says. "Why don't you go get your sister? We need to have a talk...as a family."
Danny glances at Vlad.
"Now, Danny," Maddie says. Danny heads for the stairs, pit growing ever larger.
--
The next time they meet it is Danny who has Vlad pinned, the gaudy chandelier above him shaking with the force of his rage.
"You should've told me," Danny growls.
"I thought your parents had you informed," Vlad says, utterly unbothered by the teen cracking what is thankfully not a load-bearing wall of his mansion. "Honestly Daniel, we could throw around allegations of deception on both sides, particularly mine as I assume you've known for quite some time now, if not the entire time, about your father hmm?"
Danny's eyes flick away in an obvious tell.
"Yes, I thought as much. But rather than whinging about being blindsided, I suggest we focus our energy on the solution."
Danny drops Vlad, barely biting back a snarl when the man lands gracefully on both feet.
"Which is?" Danny asks.
"First of all, your well-meaning but frankly moronic parents seem to believe that they can make a case for your custody without the assistance of my legal team. It is in both of our best interests to dissuade them of this."
"They don't like feeling indebted, Mom in particular."
"Well, to be crude for a moment Daniel, tough shit. Yes," Vlad says in response to Danny's widening eyes, "I said it. Bruce Wayne has the best of the best on his payroll and your parent's rinky-dink attorney from the local practice won't stand a chance against Friedman & Sons. Especially once he establishes paternity."
"He can do that?" Danny asks. "I mean I'm almost eighteen, can't I just refuse?"
"The keyword here, Daniel, is almost. As in, you are not. The judge can take your wishes into consideration, but I suspect Wayne will make a case for an unsafe living environment alongside his paternity to win his petition for full custody."
"Un-unsafe living environment?" Danny sputters. Vlad eyes the boy dryly before gesturing to all of him, currently clad in silver and black hazmat. Danny drops the transformation with a wince.
"In fact, I suspect that's the main reason the man filed in the first place," Vlad continues. "Lord knows he doesn't need anymore heirs to fight over his fortune once he passes—"
"Jesus, Vlad,"
"—so I believe he did some digging and found your home to be, well, wanting. On paper, Daniel, your parents sound eccentric at best, dangerous at worst. Pull the right strings, and hospital records just fall into laps. He probably thinks he's rescuing you." Vlad sneers. "If only he knew how quick you are to spit in the face of one offering you a comfortable and wealthy home."
"Fuck off," Danny says. "Is that what this is about? If you can't have me, no one can?"
Vlad rolls his eyes. "Come now, Daniel. Are you really intending to keep up this pretense?"
"What are you talking about?"
"We agreed a long time ago that no matter the nature of our quarrel, we would leave the Justice League out of it," Vlad says, taking a menacing step forward. "You think I, running in the circles I do, would have no knowledge of Bruce Wayne's alter-ego?" He takes another step, voice rising. "I have avoided drawing The Batman's attention for years, no matter how often our paths crossed. I stayed under his radar for decades, and now, BECAUSE OF YOU, I AM ABOUT TO BE RUINED."
With a creak and a groan, the chandelier drops, landing between them with a crash. Danny coughs from the dust as Vlad takes a heaving, calming breath.
"Then why get involved at all?" Danny asks, staring at the ground.
Vlad sighs, clapping his hands twice. Several ghosts dressed in service uniforms fly out the woodwork, gathering up bits of chandelier as others begin to mop.
"Because, little badger," Vlad says, walking away from the mess. "If we lose this, he'll have you in the palm of his hands. Which is infinitely worse."
Entering the kitchen, he pulls an open bottle of white out of the kitchen fridge and pours himself a glass, throwing a Fiji water to Danny who takes it for the peace offering it is.
"He won't."
"Won't what, Daniel? Please speak in full sentences."
"Won't have me," Danny says, letting a thin coat of frost spread over the bottle. He tips the freezing cold water into his mouth and wipes his face with his sleeve, mostly to see Vlad grimace.
"Why, because you'll run away if he wins? Until you turn eighteen? I won't have you fail to complete your education because of a cockamamie scheme, Daniel—"
"Because I have a solution, Vlad, one that doesn't involve the courts or running away."
"And what is that, exactly, Daniel?"
--
"You're going to leave my family alone."
"Danny," Mr. Wayne says, blinking in surprise at the boy on his doorstep and miles away from Illinois.
"I mean it," Danny says firmly. "You're going to drop your petition and whatever smear campaign you were planning on and leave the Fentons alone."
"Danny...why don't you come inside?"
Danny takes a step back from the manor's large doors. "You want a relationship with me? Brute force isn't the answer."
Bruce takes in the teenager, lanky but almost to his eye level. His eyes are clear and sharp, his demeanor forcibly calm.
"I debated whether going through the court was the right thing to do," Bruce says slowly, matching calm with calm. "But I wanted to be above board."
"Because my adoption wasn't?" Danny says, arms crossed. "Yeah, I'm aware. Kinda hard to adopt a kid that doesn't legally exist. And I know what you're going to say, the Fentons should've reported me to the system, but they didn't do it because I begged them not to. Because I didn't want my biological parents to find me."
"Danny..."
"You can swing your dick around and get your way, exactly the way I thought you would do things," Danny says, "Or you can have a relationship with me on my terms. A relationship where I don't despise you because you took me away from the people who've loved me no matter their faults."
"You're asking me to choose your happiness over your safety." Bruce says carefully.
"That's bullshit," Danny says. "I had a lab accident when I was fourteen and went directly against my parents' instructions. They trusted me, and I made a mistake."
"It's not a matter of trust. You were a child, Danny, and you almost died." Bruce says, not bothering to feign ignorance. Footsteps echo behind him.
"Bruce?" A voice calls. "Is that..?"
"Your son did die," Danny says. "He took a flight with your credit card to Ethiopia and got blown up. I bet you trusted him too."
Bruce reels back as a hand lands on his shoulder, the other on the door.
"Whoa, whoa, uh, Danny, right? I'm Tim, I'm—"
"I know who you are," Danny says, clenching his fists. Powering through the hurt he is causing. "I didn't come here to point out what a total hypocrite you are. I just want you to back off. And if you give me your number, we can text and I'll come to Gotham for Thanksgiving or the ski chalet in Vermont or your villa in where-the-fuck-ever and you can be Uncle Bruce that I maybe even tolerate being around once in a while. Just leave my family alone."
"Bruce, what is he talking about?" Tim asks. "Back off of what?"
"Your Dad is suing my parents for full custody," Danny says when it becomes clear Bruce isn't answering.
"What?" Tim hisses, turning to Bruce. "That isn't what we talked about!"
"Danny. I..."
"Here," Danny says, thrusting an index card forward that he's scrawled his phone number and email onto. On the other side is the past participle conjugation for 'venir'. "I won't answer until you drop the custody petition. Which I expect you to do by tomorrow morning."
"Done," Tim says, stepping past Bruce and taking the card. "Give me about noon to get it all squared away with the lawyers. Do you have a hotel? A way home? I'd be happy to reimburse your flight and accommodation."
"Overstepping already."
"Fair enough," Tim says coolly, raising his hands. "Our lawyers will reach out when it's settled."
"Great. Bye." Danny says, turning to leave. He waits until he hears the manor door close behind him before pulling out his cell phone.
Ring!
Ring!
"Hello?"
"It's done."
"What's done? Again, little badger, full sentences, I beg of you."
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Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au
"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"
Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.
He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.
It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.
Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.
It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.
Because it really only meant one thing.
Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.
Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.
Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.
This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?
It would be a firestorm.
One that Vlad is not keen on starting.
It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.
It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.
His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.
"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.
Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.
He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.
The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.
He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.
"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.
Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.
But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.
Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.
"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."
Bastard.
For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.
But, well.
They all have their dark secrets.
And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.
"I see."
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