Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Akhi! Where are you going? Come back here!” Damian demanded, watching his younger twin brother dodging the guards’ reaching hands, who were failing miserably in their attempts to stop his brother who used a lot of unnecessary flips.

Fools, Damian glared at guards that were supposed to be the best of the best. But then, Danyal was the best when it came to speed. His twin was always quick on his feet, more agile and flexible between the two of them. 

Danyal just cackled at the guard’s pathetic attempts.

Even though he was frustrated with his brother’s childish behavior, Damian couldn’t help but smile at the sight of how carefree Danyal looked. It’s been a while since Damian had seen that look on his face—not since their eighth birthday—very rarely did Danyal let his guard down to the point of being vulnerable, but it was a price to pay with all the training. They were both Princes. They cannot allow anyone to exploit that weakness.

Unfortunately, Danyal had a softer heart. A more foolish mindset that would most likely get his twin killed when they were trained assassins. He had a philosophy that did not match the way they were taught to do.

Fortunately, many opponents tended to underestimate Danyal's façade. Oh, Damian had no doubt it wasn’t entirely a façade (there had to be some truths to it), it was just another side Danyal showed in public. But in private, Danyal was more calculating, smarter, and more serious. He had the emotional intelligence that Damian was envious of, the way his twin understood people better, more in touch with their emotions, and able to manipulate with an uncanny social skill that Damian didn’t think his twin was capable of possessing when he’s generally a stuttering mess.

Still, Damian appreciated (to the point of pride) that he was one of the few people his twin genuinely trusted to show him the real him. His true self, so trusting of Damian that he wouldn’t take advantage of his twin’s secrets and weaknesses. But that was okay because Damian didn’t like people generally, but he liked his brother well enough that he trusted him to have his back. After all, Danyal was family. And families don’t turn their back on one another.

But of course, Damian was wrong.

When he had no choice but to kill his twin when Grandfather demanded they would fight to death for the title of the heir.

Damian was sure, to the outsiders, Danyal was giving all of his efforts to win. To beat him. It was only because Damian had years to intimately know his brother’s training and mindset that Damian was sure this was half-hearted on Danyal’s side.

The way Danyal would, with calculation, deliberately allow his katana to tear through Danyal’s tunic. The way Danyal’s eyes narrowed with thought as he did an overcomplicated move that his twin knew that Damian could counter that move as well. It was all these tiny details that made Damian internally rage at his twin.

What are you doing, you fool? Damian was sure that Danyal can read the message in his eyes. Fight me!

But he was met with a determined acceptance, the way Danyal’s lips thinned as he unflinchingly allowed the katana to be stabbed straight into the stomach. On the outside, Damian looked uncaring. But on the inside, horror was sinking in as he watched Danyal drop to the ground on his knees, spitting out blood from his mouth.

Not once did Danyal’s gaze ever left Damian’s until the spark of life died with it.

Only vacant-blue eyes stared at him.

...

Damian sighed deeply as he stared at the date on his phone. Eight years had passed since his twin’s demise. And today was the eighth anniversary of Danyal’s death.

He looked up and was met with mournful looks from his siblings, all gathered in place at the dining table. Despite that they had never known Danyal personally, they at least grieved for the brother they never got to know.

What was worst about this day was the look on Father’s face. So empty with a pang of guilt at what he perceived his greatest failure in his life. Damian wasn’t sure how it could be Father’s fault when he wasn’t aware of his biological children at that time. How was he to save his twin from that?

Father looked more heartbroken after hearing that. Despite the mask, Damian can tell that Father was that close to falling apart, even though his siblings accused him of being “emotionally constipated”, but Damian knew otherwise based on the little tells, signs that showed that Father genuinely grieved for the loss, like Father understood exactly of Damian’s pain and guilt.

That was one of the things Danyal and Father were similar (besides their physical resemblance): Their tells whenever they masked their intention and behavior through one of their facades. It was only because Damian knew his twin so well that he was sort of able to deduce Father’s behavior…most of the time (Damian can’t say he succeeded when he first met Father. That was a day full of frustration on both their parts, that came from their failure to communicate their side. Damian was sure if Danyal was here, he would cackle at the two of them and declare they were ‘both dummies’).

Just the thought made Damian’s heart clench painfully, missing his twin.

“You are missed, Danyal,” Damian said quietly to himself. Richard just wrapped an arm around his shoulder, meant to be comforting. Damian just leaned towards his touch.

...

“It’s time,” Ra’s al Ghul stared at his loyal followers, who cheered at his command.

Soon, everything would fall into its rightful places, the Demon’s head thought.

…

Elsewhere in the Ghost Zone was the Ghost King himself. Even though the King was a 16-year-old teenager, he was a fearsome warrior who managed to win the throne by such conquest, defeating the Pariah Dark and putting him back in the coffin. Saving the whole dimension, dead and living.

Calculating neon green eyes stared at his dead subjects kneeling in front of him. He tapped his fingers against the armrest, almost bored to death (pun-unintended).

“You know,” the Ghost King spoke up, after a long period of silence. His subjects glanced at each other, hesitant. The King allowed his aura to flow towards them, letting the power, the sheer strength, wrapped around them that had his subjects shaking in their knees, overwhelmed by such intensity.

The King’s lips curled upwards, amused at the sight. He was deliberately taunting them with the power he knew they can never have. Their fearful glances, their jealousy, it was so enriching. Gratifying.

“You never exactly told me why I am here. I am a very busy person,” The Ghost King sneered at them.

“Your Majesty,” one of his subjects said, voice shaking. “We requested an audience with you.” He choked when the King allowed the power to curl around his throat, almost suffocating him. “The Infinite Realms’ paths are damaged.”

The Ghost King froze before he rose up from his throne. “What do you mean ‘damaged’?”

“My sire, the walls have been breached because of the ley lines thinning at this time of year. Through hundreds of artificial portals opened, the doorway leaves a lot of things unchecked.”

“Artificial portals?” He can’t mean my parents’ portal, right? “And you say that there are more artificial portals besides the two man-made ones that we know about? Where are they? And who exactly breached them?”

When his subjects explained the situation more thoroughly (the many times he had to remind them not to ramble whenever his subjects go off-topic and practically irrelevant), the Ghost King stared at them, processing the information laid out in front of him.

“You’re telling me the chances of the living entering to the Ghost Zone are higher now?” He said though it was without a question but rather a statement. His subjects nodded hesitantly.

And isn’t that a funny coincidence this is happening on my death anniversary? He thought ruefully.

“Well, what exactly am I going to do with these ‘damaged’ paths? Hope these poor living beings don’t fall into their demise or lose their way in the Ghost Zone, forever lost from this dimension?”

“Um...”

“I suppose I should get to it, set a team, take a look at the cracks, and make sure the living don’t fall off to the infinite rabbit hole,” The Ghost King rolled his eyes. It’s not like he would ever allow that to happen, he’s not that cruel, contrary to what the ghosts think.

“But I have a family dinner to attend,” For once, instead of the Ghost King mask he occasionally wore in this setting, he allowed himself to be just Danny Fenton, a loving son with the greatest family he could have ever asked for.

Danny cheerfully headed home where his family was waiting for him. 

Unbeknownst to him, another family was about to enter his life.