Chapter Text
Seeing the ghosts had never been a good thing. Okay, maybe that's a lie. At first, when he was younger and didn't realise what they were, it had been all right. They'd never screamed at him or begged him to help them, or cried his name until Four flinched upon hearing his siblings saying it. And they'd been surprisingly good conversationalists (well, Nana had- she was a lovely old woman who sat in the corner and knitted ghostly scarves, and insisted he call her Nana).
Anyway, as soon as Four found out that the people he could see weren't imaginary, but were actually dead people, they had turned on him. They began screaming at him, crying his name all hours of the day. They went from looking like ordinary people to the goriest looking things Four had ever had the displeasure of laying his eyes upon. Even Nana changed. Instead of a wearing lovely white nighty and knitting a scarf, the pyjamas turned red with blood, and the pink wool in her hands turned to innards that leaked from her stomach. He couldn't stand the sight of her; couldn't even bear to think her name.
One night, at the age of six, when the ghosts got particularly bad, he had locked himself in the bathroom, hoping he might get some privacy in there. It was a ridiculous notion, but he had been young and it was all he could think to do. He had stood with his hands gripping the sink, shoulders shaking as he bit back sobs.
Then he looked up into the mirror, staring at his own tired reflection. He shouldn't have dark circles under his eyes at the age of six, and he shouldn't be so pale, but there he was, looking thin and sickly.
"Why is this happening to me?" He questioned himself. "What's wrong with me?"
A wet sob slipped past his lips and he looked away from the mirror.
"Nothing's wrong with you, Four, it's the ghosts," something with his voice answered and Klaus yelped, looking up and stepping away from the sink. He warily checked out the room, looking for a stray ghost or something- he didn't know what it was, but it had his voice and he wanted answers (or to run and hide, either one of those).
"Who are you?" He whispered. "Show yourself!"
"Over here," the same voice answered almost immediately, "in the mirror."
"In the..." Four started, but left the question hanging as he carefully returned to the mirror, prepared to run should he need to. He had no idea what was gone, but he knew it wasn't normal.
When he returned to the mirror, he saw himself, only... it wasn't really him. It wasn't a reflection, it was just something in the mirror that looked exactly like him. He watched in fear and confusion as the thing's mouth that was identical to his own smiled. But he hadn't smiled, so how had the reflection done so? The reflection waved, though Four hadn't.
"What are you? How are you doing that? Am I imagining this?" Four asked question after question.
"What do you mean 'what are you?'?" The reflection retorted, casuing Four's mouth to fall open. "I'm your brother. Well, your twin. Your mirror twin, to be exact. And no, you're not imagining this."
"'Mirror twin'? What's that?"
"A twin," the reflection- mirror twin- said, "who lives in a mirror."
"How can you live in a mirror? That's impossible," Four folded his arms much like Five did whenever he said something smart, "mirrors reflect things. People can't live in them."
"And people aren't supposed to see ghosts or have monsters living in their stomachs, or teleport everywhere, but you and our brothers can," the mirror twin shrugged.
"They're not your brothers, they're mine!" Four snapped defensively.
"Well, I'm your twin, which, by default, makes them my brothers, too," the twin shrugged with a smirk.
"You sound like Five," Four pulled a face. Then, "do you have a name?"
"Of course not, I live in a mirror. No one but you has ever seen me," for once the mirror twin seemed dejected, their joker facade wilting a little.
"Oh," Four also felt dejected. Somehow, he'd expected this mirror twin of his to have a name. "Do you want one?"
His mirror twin's eyes widened a little with barely contained excitement and he smiled.
"Really?" He asked.
"Of course! You've got to have a name, I can't just keep calling you my mirror twin," Four pointed out.
"What should my name be, then?"
"Let's see," Four put his finger to his chin thoughtfully, "well, my name is Four and everything up to Seven is taken, so... You can be called Eight!"
"But that's a number," the not-reflection pointed out.
"I know, but my name is a number, too. And besides, Four times two is Eight! And you're my twin. There's two of me and that has to make you Eight, right? It's genius!" Four smiled hopefully, looking at his newfound brother.
For a moment he believed the boy would reject the name and choose something that wasn't a number, but then he grinned, eyes excited and nodded eagerly.
"Great thinking, Four!" He said. "That settles it, then. My name is Eight."
Four made a congratulatory noise and fist pumped the air. He had a new brother and he had been the one to give him a name. It was probably the best day of his life. But as he was celebrating with his newfound brother, Eight, something came to him.
"Wait!" He protested, cutting off Eight's recollection of always being in the mirror, but Four never sticking around long enough to talk to him.
"What is it?" Eight asked.
"I need to tell dad."
"Tell him what?"
"About you, of course!" Four explained obviously. "If we discover anything that might even possibly be a power, we have to tell him straight away."
"Are you sure that's a good idea, Four?" Eight asked warily. He looked unsure.
"Well, if I don't tell him and he finds out, I'll be in trouble," Four said, "I think it's best to just tell him now."
There was a moment of silence as Eight looked to the side, something unreadable on his face before he sighed and turned back to Four, nodding his head.
"You're right," he said, "you should tell him. Is there a mirror in his office?"
"I think so, yeah. Why?"
"I'll meet you down there."
And with that he stepped out of view and Four's actual reflection returned as if it had never been gone. It unnerved Four how it had happened. One minute Eight was walking away, and then he blinked and his reflection was back. It was almost as if he had imagined it, but with his memoties so vivid, he knew he hadn't.
With the widest grin, he unlocked the bathroom door and ran out, almost colliding with Number Five as he did so. He gained an insult from his brother at that, but as he continued running, he called out an apology and explained that he couldn't stop.
He had never run down the hall to his father's office so fast in his life. Usually, he avoided it like the plague, but today was important. Today he had discovered something so amazing that he had to share it with his father.
Four came to a screeching halt outside of Reginald's office, breath quick and a silly grin on his face. He brought his hand up with only a brief hesitation (would it really be so bad if his dad didn't find out? He thought), then knocked four times.
Silence reigned supreme from the other side of the office, before his father's voice floated through the door, cold and calculated.
"Enter, Number Four."
Steeling himself, Four reached forward and opened the door. He stepped over the threshold, making sure to leave the door open, lest he be locked in the same room as his father. He stood awkwardly, watching his father continue to scribble in his infamous notebook, unsure if he should talk or wait to be addressed again.
"Well? What is it, boy?" His father snapped at him, and Four startled.
"Um, I believe I've discovered something new, father," Four reported dutifully. He wasn't sure whether to call it a power because could a person inside a mirror really be referred to as a power? But what else could he call it without his father writing him off as delusional before letting him explain?
"What is it?" Reginald seemed to finally be intrigued, putting his pen down at last and tearing his gaze away from his book to look at one of his biggest disappointments.
Four looked around the room and spotted a mirror on the wall. It was too high for him so he quickly dragged a chair over to it, ignoring his father's angry insults and questions, and then stepped onto the chair.
"What on Earth do you think you're doing, Number Four? Are you looking to earn yiurself extra training?" Reginald snapped, getting up from his own chair to stride around his desk and over to Four.
"Just watch, please," Four begged his father, who still looked angry, but thankfully stayed silent.
Turning back to the mirror, Four watched as a second later, his reflection disappeared whilst his dad's stayed. He privately grinned at his father's stunned face, safe in the knowledge that he couldn't see his face from his position behind him.
"Fascinating," Reginald muttered to himself.
"That's not the best part," Four told him proudly.
And, as if on queue, Number Eight showed up, walking into view from the side of the mirror and positioning himself in the centre, almost mirroring Four, except one of them had their arms crossed whilst the other didn't.
"Father, this is Number Eight, my mirror twin," Four introduced, looking away for a moment to see his father's astonished face as he looked between the two of them. It wasn't ever day their father showed so much emotion on his face and Four took pleasure in the knowledge that he'd been the one to cause it this time.
"Mirror twin? Number Eight?" Reginald inquired calmly, his face finally back to its casual disapproving expression.
"Yeah, he's my twin who lives in a mirror. He didn't have a name and considering he's my brother, I named him Eight because everything from One to Seven was taken," Four shrugged, explaining everything casually despite having only learned all of that himself just half an hour ago.
"Extroadinary," Reginald repeated, grabbing his notebook and pen. He flipped to a fresh page and wrote 'Number Eight' at the top. "And can this Number Eight speak?"
"This Number Eight is right here," Eight sassed, looking mildly annoyed.
"Amazing," Reginald looked up only briefly to eye the mirror twin before continuing to write, "and how long has he been around?"
"Ever since Four was born," Eight answered for himself despite the questions being directed at Four.
"Is this true? And why didn't you come to me with this sooner, Four?" Reginald demanded crossly, gaze going straight to Four.
"I-I didn't know until half an hour ago, I promise," Four explained.
"He's telling the truth," Eight defended Four, "he never stuck around long enough for me to show myself."
Reginald hummed and turned back to his book.
"Is there a limit to how long you can... present yourself?"
"I live in here," Eight said simply, as if that was an answer. Reginald didn't seem to mind, turning to a new page to write some more.
"What about sustenance? Do you need to eat? Drink?"
"I live in a mirror," Eight repeated flatly. This earned him a small frown from Reginald as he adjusted his monocle before continuing to scribble in his book.
"I presume you can mive from mirror to mirror?"
Eight nodded.
"Any mirror?"
Another nod.
"What about any reflective surfaces? A window, perhaps? Liquids?"
"I don't know, I've never tried," Eight snapped, folding his arms defensively with an unimpressed face.
"I see," Reginald snapped his books closed, the noise making Four jump slightly, "well, this shall have to be further explored. Until now, you are dismissed. Both of you."
The last part was said with a slightly raised eyebrow, as if he was unsure. Then he walked past Four and out of his office, leaving Four and Eight alone. The two shared a look, Four still stood on the chair.
Something passed over Four's face.
"I've just had an amazing idea," he shot Eight a mischievous look.