(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)
...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.
She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.
Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.
The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.
Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.
He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.
He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.
But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.
And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.
His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.
Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.
Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.
"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.
"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more
Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"
Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.
On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.
And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.
Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.
Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?
She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.
Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."
She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?
Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."
"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."
Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."
The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.
She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.
But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.
"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.
Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."
Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.
(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)
"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."
"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."
"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"
Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."
Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."
It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.
"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.
Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.
She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.
"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."
(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)
(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)
Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.
Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."
With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.
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billy’s mom waking him up while it’s still dark, whispering even though neil’s working the night shift. it’s a couple days before his tenth birthday and she’s telling him they’re going to have their very own adventure, just like the ones in billy’s books. she grabs an already packed suitcase from under billy’s bed and kisses him on the nose, tells him to get dressed quick. the two of them leave in an old beat up yellow bug that she managed to get for a third of the asking price and keep parked around the corner until now. they stay with friends and jump from place to place so neil can’t track them down. billy gets used to surfing couches and staying in motels.
he spends his tenth birthday in a diner, his mom gets him a big stack of pancakes and a milkshake with extra cherries. gets a candle out her pocket along with her silver lighter. sings happy birthday and pulls a face when the waitress frowns at them, just to make billy laugh. she sips at her coffee while billy tucks in. smiles when he holds some out with a “c’mon mama, share with me.”
billy thinks it’s neat. thinks it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.
they eventually end up with a place in california, a little bungalow near the coast and billy grows up with his mom. billy gets pretty shirts from the thrift store ‘cause his mama lets him do stuff like that. doesn’t call him a queer, doesn’t force a baseball bat into his hands whilst yelling at him for crying, for being a pussy. his mom lets him read and keep a journal and press flowers between the pages of the neverending story, she plays hendrix and dusty springfield and laughs when billy comes home from his friends’ house with his first piercing at thirteen. she doesn’t tear down his posters or yell when she finds him using her eyeliner.
and everything’s perfect. sort of.
they have bad days- billy’s mom has bad days. billy calls them gray days ‘cause that’s how the world looks when she’s like this. all her color gone. no singing-dancing in the kitchen or baking five different kinds of cake because she couldn’t decide which one was best, no last minute trips to the beach or sitting outside at night and telling billy about the stars. instead she’ll stay in bed, won’t go to work. she’ll stare at the wall blankly and look right through billy when he tries to talk to her. she won’t take the pills the doc gave her and billy doesn’t know what to do. never knows what to do. just chews at his lip until it bleeds, bites at his thumb until it’s red raw. he’ll get in the bed with her. lay beside her and just talk like she used to do with him when he had a nightmare. hum a song to her.
billy’s still pissed at the world just slightly less so. still has that anger and anxiousness simmering just below the surface and shows his teeth when cornered. he’s still hardened in a way that a kid shouldn’t be but. it’s different. there’s no neil. the only bloody noses he gets are at school, when he fights with the kids who call him a fag and a fairy, call his mom a basket case. he uses fists when they laugh and ask if she’s all there with a finger pointing at their heads, ask if billy will “catch the crazy.”
those are billy’s bad days. sitting in the principals office, icing his knuckles.
when he’s fifteen, billy manages to bag a job at the local auto repair by turning up every day and telling howie how good he’d be, that he knows cars and it’s all he wants to do and please please please. eyebrows pulled together, eyes puppy dog wide and hands clasped in front of him until howie grumbles, throws an oily rag at billy. says fine but billy’s gotta pay for anything he damages. someone brings in a chevy camaro and billy asks howie to let him help fix it up. does the begging again until howie laughs. says get a hold of yourself, kid, voice fond as he ruffles billy’s hair.
billy’s four months away from turning seventeen when the doorbell goes. he’s eating a sandwich and watching knight rider. he’s wearing the necklace his mom got him for his last birthday and- he answers the door. doesn’t think twice. freezes when he sees neil standing there. he looks different. hair a little shorter and more wrinkles. where billy’s gained weight, gained muscle, neil’s lost it. his eyes are a little sunken and he’s still got his wedding band on. he reeks of booze. billy has to remind himself to speak, just says “yeah?” his voice comes out small and neil smiles at him. smiles and billy feels this weird twist in his stomach ‘cause .. that’s his dad and he hasn’t seen him in years and it twists and twists and-
turns out. not much has changed. billy realises a little too late that neil will always be neil. they run again. have to leave everything behind. billy doesn’t get to say bye to his friends, to howie, to the car. they leave a lot of stuff behind and head in any direction away from neil. they both try to keep the mood light, take turns driving and play the tapes billy grabbed. they end up in indiana- hawkins. they stay at a motel until billy’s mom finds a place for dirt cheap. it has two bedrooms and a dingy bathroom, a living room slash kitchen and one hell of a damp problem. it’s dirt cheap for a reason.
it’s above a shop in town and- it’s fine. their landlord is an asshole but they’re together and they’ve got a roof over their heads. billy’s enrolled at hawkins high and his mom gets a job at the laundromat. he tells her that he doesn’t need to go to school, that he could just work and help pay the bills but his mom won’t have any of it. says that she wishes she had finished school and that billy’s too clever to waste it. that he has potential.
billy knows the reason she dropped out of school was because she had him. he just nods, rests his head on her shoulder.
it’s billy’s first day at school and his mom drives him to make sure he actually goes. he gets out the car and tries to shake the nerves off. straightens up and puts on his act. plasters a fake smile on his face and it’s working, he’s got most of the girls swooning and the boys at least seem curious. billy looks around and his eyes land on a guy leaning up against a bmw. his hair’s coiffed to high heaven and he’s wearing a polo, preppy as fuck but- pretty. it’s one of the first things billy realises about him, all doe eyes and moles dotted just about everywhere. he’s got a smirk on his face. not aimed at billy but the guy beside him.
pretty-boy walks over to him and billy raises an eyebrow, plays it cool. he introduces himself as steve and billy gets the idea that he’s top dog at hawkins high, is immediately proved right when they step into the building. king steve, freckles calls him. billy laughs- catches steve looking at him when he does and feels his face get hot. steve just smiles wider, calls billy california and tells him to sit with them at lunch. billy tries to ignore the way steve’s smile makes him feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under his feet.
he nods and steve grins. tugs at one of billy’s curls.
says “i think you’re gonna like it here, california.”
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