Archive of Our Own

The hardest part is the setup.

It takes a lot of finesse and dozens of emails, but eventually Danny sets up an art exchange. It’s much like the pen-pal project but instead, it’s a sketchbook that two promising young artists will mail back and forth. The hardest part of all of this had been making several different teachers around the country feel like this was their initiative. In the end Fiona Sykes representing a private school in Metropolis and Diane Potterfield representing an underprivileged school in Georgia have taken the reigns. Danny takes special care to make sure his own art teacher, Robert Down, is kept in the loop.

Danny has been stringent in his academics to look like nothing more than an average student. B’s nearly across the board with the occasional low A or high C. He decides early on to commit to the dream of becoming an astronaut – at least outwardly. He hears over and over again that he’ll need the best grades to achieve that but he doesn’t adjust the work he turns in at all. He needs to be unremarkable in every way and a midwestern kid who dreams a little too big is perfect. One area he had been noticed in was his artwork. At first Danny had panicked, but by the time he’d grabbed his go bag and was unlocking the window to flee, he reminded himself that one art teacher complimenting his sketch was not the same as being noticed on a national scale.

Right now, Danny was glad that he had allowed himself to indulge. It’s his last year of middle school and Mr. Down has encouraged him to ‘pursue his talents’ for three years now. The day after he’d been emailed about a potential project to connect young artists to each other, Danny could feel eyes on the back of his head. Perfect.

The only true wildcard here is Damian’s own art teacher – or is it teachers? Danny had hacked Damian’s schedule, obviously, but there were two teachers listed for his art block and Danny didn’t know if that meant two teachers were on hand at all times or if they took turns. At the very least Gotham Academy had signed on to participate and if Damian wasn’t added to the list organically, that would be the easiest part of this ruse.

He's confident that Damian will be on the list though. He was always a phenomenal artist – far better than Danny and with more passion for it. Mother had encouraged both of them to pursue creative interests, but there was truly no comparison for their artistic talent. It was public record that his work had been displayed more than once in school sponsored events and the media always had a field day with ‘Damian Wayne’s soft, artistic side’.

Luckily, Damian is added to the list. Danny nearly offers up a prayer in relief before struggling with which deity he’d even thank and deciding not to. At one point Damian’s name is removed from the list (probably him declining since he’s too busy), but Danny puts it back on. Everyone will write it off as a mistake and from there it’s easy to pair them together. Now all that’s left is for Damian to open the sketchbook and understand his message.

There’s not exactly a guide on how to contact your long-lost twin who thinks that you’re dead. Of course Danny knows that Damian went to live with Father – it was impossible to miss and Danyal drank in the sight of his brother like an oasis in a desert. Even if this was a mirage, he’d swallow sand gladly for the illusion of relief. He’d often wondered if his brother was ok, if he was still an assassin, if he was still alive…

Seeing him standing at father’s side and then hearing rumors that there was another new Robin was a balm to Danny’s frayed nerves. Of course it wasn’t safe – Danyal was more than aware of the fate of Jason Todd – but at least in Gotham the threats were external and Damian would have a safe place to rest his head. Danny followed every news story he could about his brother and kept a closer eye on the Waynes in general. As soon as his brother had social media, he’d followed those too.

But watching from a distance wasn’t enough. It’s a risk driven by sentimentality and longing, years of expecting another person next to him like a binary star system only to find again and again that he was drifting alone. Jasmine is a fantastic sister, really. A bit of a busy body, but compared to having his every step monitored, it’s a refreshing show of care rather than control. She isn’t Damian though. His twin, his Ahki, the other half of him.

Many would consider the Fenton’s an odd choice for a child assassin to hide out with. They stood out even when they weren’t in hazmat suits and bordered on neglectful when they threw themselves into a new project. However, this was perfect for Danyal. When Jazz had found him in the woods and dragged him into her parents’ camp, they had exchanged worried looks at his adamant silence, but had offered him food and water (a kind gesture even though he was more than capable of surviving in the wild) and wrapped bandages around the cut on his arm Mother had given him.

The Doctors Fenton were often distracted by their own work and Jasmine, while observant, was still just a civilian child. He bided his time for two weeks observing the Fenton’s and the town of Amity Park before deciding that if Mother hadn’t tracked him down yet she was likely to leave him alone. He introduced himself to Jasmine as Danyal and she immediately ran to tell her parents using the American pronunciation. He never corrected her and changed his own pronunciation to match. He let the police investigation run it’s course and after a year he hacked into state records and slipped in his own adoption forms.

The Fentons never questioned it and outside of the first few months where he adjusted to life outside of the League, Daniel Fenton was an unremarkable child who most people forgot was even adopted and that’s just how he liked things.

Still, there was something missing. Someone missing. Danny knows this is a stupid idea. He has a loving family, fantastic friends, and is so far below the radar that even faced with DNA evidence that he is the son of Bruce Wayne people would have a hard time believing it. Still… Damian had been with Father for nearly three years and had settled into life outside of the League, just like Danyal had.

Maybe… if they’re very subtle… maybe he can have his brother back. Just a little.

~*~*~*~

Damian scowls when he receives the sketchbook. When Ms. Millani had informed him of the art exchange, he had declined. It was a pointless addition to his schedule and while showing up a no doubt inferior artist appealed to him, it would also get stale very quickly. He informed his teacher that he didn’t have time to participate and she assured him that he would be removed from the program. He’d believed her, but due to someone’s incompetence Damian had remained enrolled in the program.

With spite, Damian takes the sketchbook and considers tracking down whoever had failed to remove him from the program and crashing their computer before dismissing the idea. It would be a waste of time and he already had the sketchbook. He would simply settle for shaming the other artist with the sheer difference in their talent and hope they gave up immediately, never to bother him again. He puts the sketchbook in his bag and finishes the sketch of a lion he is actually going to be graded on. He would look at the subpar work of his ‘sketch buddy’ after school and determine the appropriate medium to destroy them with. Perhaps the new set of watercolors Cain had gifted him with.

Once home, Damian puts the sketchbook on his drawing table and opens it with disdain.

Once open, he is grateful that he had done so in the privacy of his own room.

His eyes widened as he drinks in the hall of Nanda Parbat. There is a tall figure walking away from the viewer in a resplendent robe Damian automatically categorizes as red and gold despite the graphite rendering in front of him. The viewer is looking upwards at a dynamic angle to highlight the size and grandeur of the hall – or perhaps to show the short viewpoint of a child. The windows up by the ceiling illuminating the room created a soft light source and the ornate tapestries had been recreated in painstaking detail. It was like being blinded by a light grenade of nostalgia. Damian drank in every detail, everything he never thought he’d see again, every feature he remembered so fondly yet so bitterly, every impossible inch.

Is this a threat? Is someone from the League trying to get in touch with him? They all knew where he is – who he is. Is this a message? A cry for help? Is Mother indulging in nostalgia?

None of it makes sense. Damian scours the image inch by inch, looking for any hidden message before finally, towards the bottom of the frame, he finds that the filigree on the bottom of the pillars is not filagree at all. Instead, over and over in stylized Arabic, is Ahki.

Pushing back on the urge to hyperventilate, Damian slams the sketchbook closed and looks at the names on the front. Daniel Fenton and Damian Wayne. Opening it back to the drawing, Damian finds Danyal scribbled in the corner.

It wasn’t a mistake. His name hadn’t been removed as an oversight, but as an intentional act so that his brother could contact him. Damian can already see the simple hacking required to pair them up. Had his brother merely taken advantage of the opportunity or had he created this entire farce as an excuse? It was probably the latter as they both knew better than to leave things to chance, but what does this mean?

Pulling out his laptop, Damian searches social media for Daniel Fenton. He clenches his teeth and wills the tears from his eyes as a picture appears of who can only be his long-lost twin. They were fraternal and while Damian had taken more after Mother, Danyal had their Father’s coloring and it was hypothesized that he would grow into Father’s stature as well. While he still has Father’s coloring, the pre-teen in these pictures is lanky to the point of seeming underweight. Damian narrows his eyes and puts looking into Danyal’s living situation next on his to-do list.

Living situation.

His brother is alive. After all these years, all those lonely nights and difficult days where he longed for his matching star to be by his side, his brother is alive.

But why aren’t they together?

Despite his initial urge to steal the Batjet and fly to Amity Park, there are a multitude of reasons that Danyal may have kept his distance and speculating will only stress him further. What is important is that Danyal had found a surreptitious way for the two of them to be in touch that came across as completely benign. Mind made up, Damian follows back on every social media platform (and is it comforting or infuriating that his brother has been keeping tabs on him?) and turns back to the sketchbook.

Pulling out his best set of charcoals, Damian goes about drawing Batman and Robin. It is clearly himself and Father, but he puts the image off center with enough room to add another figure, another Robin. Hopefully the question will be clear. Why isn’t Danyal here? Why isn’t he fighting at his brother’s side? What is keeping him away?

Emotionally drained, Damian makes his way down for dinner. When Father asks about the art exchange, no doubt having heard about his annoyance from Pennyworth, Damian replies that the artist he was paired with was better than expected and lets the subject drop. Explaining Danyal to their Father is a conversation he isn’t looking forward to.

At the end of the week he turns the sketchbook back in for it to be sent to Danyal. It is an excruciatingly slow way to communicate, each of them having the notebook for a week before being mailed over the weekend; but it gives him time to come up with scenarios and track down every online lead he can.

It seems that Danyal was found in the woods by the Fenton family just a week after Damian had last seen him in Nanda Parbat. He had at first been nonverbal but as time went by he was adopted by the Midwestern family and led a mediocre life. Damian tried not to turn his nose up at the subpar grades that is surely camouflage - it is beneath his brother’s abilities.

The Fentons themselves are… questionable. They’re ecto-biologists who focus on ghosts and the eradication thereof. While Damian has had enough paranormal encounters to know that ghosts are real in some way, he has never heard of a scientific approach to dealing with them. (Justice League Dark exists for a reason and it isn’t because they demanded their own name.) Despite their less than stellar reputation in the scientific community, there’s nothing Damian can find to indicate they’re bad parents. Just… extremely enthusiastic about their chosen field of study.

Despite his desperation to demand answers, Damian knows that his family will inevitably look through his online activity. It’s suspicious enough that he followed Danyal (or should he use Daniel now?) on every social media platform he could, but he can write that off as wanting to know more about his ‘sketch buddy’. It would be more suspicious if he didn’t look at all and even more suspicious still if someone caught him having deleted the search and Damian couldn’t afford to draw any undue attention to his brother. Hopefully they’d write off the physical resemblance as a coincidence.

Thankfully, no one brings up Damian’s search history nor his school project throughout the week.

On Monday, the sketchbook is handed back to him. His fingers itch to open it right there and then but he knows that whatever reply his brother has sent him will require privacy to come to terms with. Jon notices his distraction throughout the afternoon but doesn’t press when he says he’s thinking about a case. He is a good friend like that.

Finally, the school day finishes and Damian goes to his room at a measured pace – there is no reason to arouse suspicion. He has answers at the tip of his fingers and the additional hours have felt like that first week when he’d refused to believe Mother about his brother’s death. He was right, but why?

His breath catches at the two page spread his brother has sent back. The first page is the same hallway as before but with a direct side view. Damien is striding forward, Grandfather standing behind him with his hand on Damien’s shoulder. With the light source coming from the South in front of them, long shadows are cast at their backs. He skims over and looks to the right. The final column on the left side is now a tree trunk and the page gets darker as he moves across. It is a forest and a female figure that that is unmistakably Mother stands with a knife in hand, towering over the frightened boy on his knees in front of her. He’s clutching his left arm, eyes wide in shock. Damian can’t imagine what expression Mother is wearing, her hair artfully obscuring her face, but the meaning is clear even before Damian finds the titles in small print at the top margin. The Heir and The Spare on their respective pages.

Damian had considered this possibility. Even when he was young and had been told Danyal had failed a mission, he had wondered if it had been intentional on Grandfather’s part. What hurt now was that Mother had a hand in it. Or maybe that was good. Danyal is alive. Maybe he is saying that despite everything, Mother had disobeyed orders and let him go. Or maybe hadn’t had the heart to chase him when Danyal ran.

It's a conversation that will take more than drawings.

For now, Damian puts his elbows on the desk, rests his orbital bones in his palms, and silently cries. It shouldn’t feel like betrayal – he’s long since left the Al Ghul’s behind – but it does. It stings and something in his heart breaks just a little more knowing that his family had discarded his brother in favor of himself.

If he also thinks about how cruel he was to try and force Father to discard his adopted siblings, he’ll use that self-recrimination as a reminder to appreciate the family he has now.

~*~*~*~

When Mr. Down hands back the sketchbook two weeks after Danny had first sent it out he can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

The drawing he’d sent out was so explicit about what had happened and he didn’t know how Damian would take it. He clearly sided with Father, but Danny doesn’t know if he’s still attached to Mother. Had he hurt his brother? Had his brother already known? Was the question not ‘Why didn’t you stay?’ but ‘Why haven’t you joined me?’ Danny doesn’t know. It’s been five years since he’s last since his brother and it breaks his heart that he doesn’t know.

In the end, he receives a beautiful rendition of sand dunes. There’s a strong breeze blowing a stream of sand off the top, pointillism giving both density and the texture of sand. In the background is a blazing sun and despite the beauty and the memories of looking over the desert hand-in-hand, the drawing feels lonely.

It doesn’t take long for him to find a response. Danny blacks out the entire back with charcoal and starts erasing bits and pieces to recreate the sky outside their childhood window. He consults a couple of sky charts to make sure all the placements are just right for the memory he wants to invoke. It was the spring before they were separated: Danyal had been sharing stories about the constellations and how they varied from culture to culture when Damian pointed out that their primary use was navigation. Danyal had pointed to Alpha Centauri and Beta Centauri declaring, “This is us. Right next to each other, forever.” They’d then had the usual argument over who was older and therefore Alpha Centauri, but neither of them actually cared. It felt more relevant now than ever. Those stars are a pair, even though their orbit takes them closer and further from each other, they are always a pair.

~*~*~*~*~

Damian understands the drawing at once and while it warms his heart, it doesn’t tell him why his brother isn’t here or if he even wants to meet. For the time being, he decides to share his life here. He starts with a series of portraits of his pets. When the sketchbook comes back, Danyal has drawn an emoji next to Batcow. Shamefully, he has to ask Brown what it means. Apparently it is the ‘laughing so hard I’m crying’ emoji which meant that Danyal was highly amused by either Batcow’s name or markings. Likely both.

In the spirit of sharing their lives Danyal has sent a color pencil drawing of his house. The bottom half of the drawing is a two-story brick building shaped more like an office than a house with a searingly neon sign that sas Fenton Works on it. While it doesn’t fit into Midwestern architecture norms for houses, there was nothing inherently wrong with it; especially since the Doctors Fenton seem to run their business out of there. Perhaps the first floor is their office and the upper floor has an apartment.

The top half of the drawing is simply unbelievable. It appears to some sort of… of… Damian isn’t sure what to call it. It’s bigger than the house supporting it (and they must have reinforced the building to keep everything standing) with all sorts of devices coming off of it. Damian is able to identify a wind sleeve, a radio tower, and three separate radio dishes. There are at least three devices he cannot even begin to guess at. There is also a bulbous protrusion from the bottom with some kind of atomic symbol that has Damian worried that they may be attempting nuclear fission on top of their own house. He quickly put those thoughts to rest as there is nowhere near enough room for proper reactor (but what about an improper reactor?). Perhaps this is the Fentons’ laboratory and the atomic rendering indicated where they stored hazardous materials.

It is helpfully labelled ‘The Ops Center’ and explains absolutely nothing.

Damian actually does a search specifically for Fentonworks only to find a picture of the same building and, when he still can’t believe it, he uses the satellite imaging from the Bat Computer to prove it’s real. It was. When Drake finds him staring at the building in disbelief, he is forced to explain that he had not believed the drawing his ‘sketch buddy’ had sent him of his house. When Drake further asks if the Fentons are mad scientists, Damian is unable to answer ‘No’.

Seeing this as a perfect excuse to initiate a verbal conversation via direct messaging, Damian logs into Chirper and asks if his parents have any of the necessary permits for such additions to their house. Danyal’s answers that the local government is scared of his parents to the point where the IRS refuses their tax returns. He then proceeds to claim that his parents are harmless. Damian does not believe him.

Since such contact can be hacked, Damian finds himself even more frustrated with all the things he wanted to talk about, but can’t. Instead he draws a two page spread of the marvelous back of Wayne Manor. You could google pictures of the front and even the ballroom, but the back gardens are Wayne family only and as a Wayne, his brother is more than entitled to it.

They continue like this for several more weeks as the program runs its course. Danyal had proceeded to send him drawings of his friends, family, and various locations he was fond of such as a camp ground and a restaurant called Nasty Burger. Damian had proceeded to draw a bright X over the last and sent him numerous articles on the unacceptable conditions of the beef industry. Danyal had then sent him a copy of the menu with the vegetarian section highlighted. Damian went on to highlight the injustice done to dairy cows.

That night he was put in touch with Samantha Manson which was a boon on multiple levels. Her ultra-recyclo-vegetarian views were refreshing and she was more than willing to share stories about his brother’s hijinks over the years. It also helps that they now have someone to talk to when they are both dragged to otherwise insufferable galas. Damian had once suggested she bring Danyal as well, desperate to see him in person, but she quickly shot the notion down. Her parents hated both of her friends, Danyal especially for being ‘beneath her station’. Damian had nearly rolled his eyes at the sheer absurdity.

Throughout all of this Damian has sent several sketches of their many siblings interacting with each other, often imagining how Danyal would fit into the family. He would integrate far more easily than Damian had. Even before he had settled into American culture, Danyal had always exceeded Damian in cultural studies.

Finally, the exchange came to an end. Damian writes a flattering review endorsing the program and encourages Father to fund it. He has no idea if this exchange has actually helped anyone else, but it had reunited him (in a way) with his other half – Damian will keep it going as long as he lives.

Since Damian has the Fenton’s address he simply buys a new sketchbook and continues communicating the things he can’t say aloud. On one memorable occasion, Danyal had drawn dual family portraits with himself and the Fentons contrasted with a mirror showing the two of them standing formally with Mother and Father. In both portraits Danyal stood smiling next to his sibling with his mother’s hand proudly on his shoulder. Father’s hand was securely around Mother’s waist while the beaming figure of Jack Fenton doing the same had his wife nearly off the floor. The way the two families held themselves was such a stark contrast and yet, Damian understood. Danyal loved the Fentons, it was clear in every drawing and every word exchanged about them, but he still longed for their blood family and wondered what life would be like if they were together.

Damian answered with a drawing of the four of them sitting down for a meal together in the Wayne family kitchen. Father was at the head of the table, Mother at the foot. Damian and Danyal sat across from each other, reaching for the Pakistani spread of food in front of them.

A part of him longs for this as well.

~*~*~*~*~

Danny stares at the blank page of the sketchbook for the sixth day in a row. He’s late mailing it back and Dami will notice when it doesn’t arrive on Monday, but he doesn’t know what to draw. Twice when Danny had tried to draw something the pencil had slipped through his fingers and once he had gotten the sketchbook itself stuck in his hand. It had taken him seven minutes and two of Jazz’s breathing exercises to calm down enough to phase his hand back out of it.

What is he going to say?

He can’t talk about this online – there can be no trail indicating what happened to him anywhere. He deeply wishes that Damian had sent him a secure communicator (something he has access to but likely hasn’t been able to sneak away). Could Danny just… fly over?

No. No way. He does not have that kind of control over his powers.

But what does he say? What can he say?

Damian was told he was dead six years ago. He knows his brother was elated to find out he was alive even if he still has questions about why they’re not together, so how can he say that he died?

How can he not?

Danny needs his brother in a way he never has before but a part of him is screaming that saying anything will only hurt Dami.

He can’t bear the thought.

He also can’t hold it in.

It takes him another week working on and off to paint the portal. It’s Lazarus, no, ectoplasm green with lime green, jagged streaks to show the way it turns. The metal edges are dark blue, harsh highlights giving it a looming presence, he draws lightning sparking off of it – white with just the faintest hint of blue. He spends far too long mixing all the colors, lying to himself all the while that that it’s therapeutic to put it on paper. Jazz might call it retraumatizing.

After another four days of debate he takes the blackest of black acrylic paints he has and adds a screaming figure to the center of the portal. The mouth is open, arms and legs splayed – out of his control as his limbs seize up – suspended in the colossal crash of energy that’s tearing him apart and slamming him together as he loses form and becomes all too aware of every molecule and he must be screaming but he can’t hear if he doesn’t have ears and he can’t scream without a throat and how is he breathing so he even can scream and there is only green and black and white as his eyes come and go.

He stares at it for hours, long after the paint has dried, and just… stares.

When dawn rises, Danny adds two stark white specks for eyes and puts a streak of lightning coming off of each of them. He goes to school. He breaks another beaker. He comes home and shuts the sketchbook without looking. He wraps it, mails it, and then stares blankly at the dms on his phone.

Sam has been fielding questions from Dami all week, letting him know that, ‘Danny was in an accident but he’s fine, just give him a few days.’

Once Dami receives the sketchbook, he’ll know that Danny is absolutely not fine.

Eventually, he writes, ‘The accident was bad. I’m mostly ok, but I’ve grown a strong aversion to death by electrocution.’

It’s a worrying statement, but it’s the closest he can come to being reassuring. At least while still being truthful.

~*~*~*~*~

Damian is frustrated. The sketchbook was late and Danyal was not replying online. Manson is being evasive and the only information he has received is that his brother was in an ‘accident’. He channels his frustration into the two-way communicator that he should have finished long before now. He had convinced himself that it was something that could wait. Sentimentally, he had considered making them a birthday present for the both of them. He had gotten complacent and now his brother was either incapable or unwilling to contact him.

The entire family has been walking on eggshells around him. It’s as infuriating as it is comforting. He had made no secret that he was fond of his sketchbook exchange (having continued it throughout the entire summer and into the new school year). He is aware that they are proud of him making another friend. He resists scoffing at his empty room. Damian does not need friends (although he has found many benefits to his acquaintance with Jonathon Kent) and Danyal is his brother, his twin – nearly an extension of himself. It does not compare to having a ‘friend’.

On Saturday, nearly two weeks after the sketchbook should have arrived, Danyal finally writes him. Admitting to an ‘aversion to death by electrocution’ is as good as an admission of fear. His brother had been electrocuted, nearly to death. Does he have nerve damage? Is that why he was unable to answer?

When the sketchbook arrives two days later, Damian makes plans.

His first impulse is to steal the Bat-Jet. He immediately dismisses it because Father will track him down. There’s a part of him that says Father should know, Danyal is his son too, but… It’s one part selfishness to keep one part of his life to himself when everything is constantly monitored and reviewed. It’s one part selflessness because if Danyal wanted to be here, he would. And Father would never let the matter drop – especially after finding out that Danyal had gotten hurt.

Part of Damian wants to drag Danyal out of Amity Park right this second, the painting seared into his heart like a knife. His brother said he was mostly ok and Damian will verify this with his own eyes.

Since taking any Bat equipment is out of the question, he could always steal a civilian vehicle or purchase a plane ticket through shell corporations. While the chance of being recognized on a flight is high, there is also a chance of someone identifying him as ‘too young’ to drive when he stops for gas.

In order to ensure that he won’t be noticed, the best option is to ask for assistance. Jon is more than happy to assist and turns appropriately worried when Damian explains that his ‘friend’ was in an accident. They leave immediately after school and arrive in Amity Park at approximately four-thirty local time. If he understands his brother’s habits correctly (something much more frustrating to judge with so much distance between them) then he should be at the Nasty Burger. Jon is excitedly talking about the prospect of a burger when Danyal walks out of the restaurant.

Damian comes to a complete standstill and it takes a moment for Danyal to see him past Tucker Foley’s shoulder, but his brother stills too. For a moment Damian simultaneously feels as if he’s seeing a stranger but also as if no time has passed at all. As one, the two of them brush past their respective friends and crash into each other. They’ve never hugged before, but it’s an act they’ve both learned in their time apart. Much to his chagrin, Damian notices his brother is taller than him by an inch although his build is just as willowy as the pictures showed. There is strength in the arms wrapped around his shoulders and Damian wants to stay buried in Danyal’s neck for however long it takes to memorize this familiar stranger.

“Ahki.” Danyal breathes like a prayer and Damian can only grip his waist tighter. All the relief and longing and apologies contained in that single word are as clear to Damian as they would have been six years ago and a weight he hadn’t been aware of lifts from his shoulders.

Damian can hear Jon distracting the other two and directing them to one of the outdoor tables so that they can have their moment. It only reaffirms that Jon was the right person to bring with him.

Finally drawing back so he can look his brother in the eye, Damian holds him by the shoulders. Those icy blue eyes, an exact match for their father’s, are bloodshot and tired in a way that tells of sleepless nights and countless worries. It’s a look everyone in their family has had from time-to-time. “What happened?”

Danyal moves his hand up to the back of Damian’s neck and uses it to pull him forward until their foreheads are pressed together in a comforting gesture they’d learned from Mother and then used for each other. Damian simply closes his eyes and moves his hand to match. The League was not a place for comfort or coddling and these silent gestures were everything. He wanted to relax into the old comfort but finds his brow furrowing in horror. Under his fingers where there should be a matching heartbeat to his own, Danyal’s heart pumps only half as often as it should.

Leaning back, Damian openly shows his distress on his face. It would have been simpler to remain stoic, felt more natural, but the clear lingering effect of the accident demand a reaction and Damian, never the best with words of comfort or care, was completely beyond them.

Danyal smiles sheepishly and inclines his head towards the table. “You trust your friend?”

Damian scowled but reminded himself that Jonathon, despite being his best friend, was an unknown to his brother. “Unequivocally. He is Superboy and I trust him to have my back in a fight.”

“Superboy?” Danyal peered over in interest before refocusing on his twin. “Are you going to tell him?”

“At this distance, he can hear everything we are saying.” Sure enough, when they look over in sync (a motion that Damian feels unduly warmed by) Jonathan is waving happily.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Danyal glances over with just his eyes. “No offence, but I’d rather not talk about this with a complete stranger.”

Jonathon gives a huge smile and a thumbs up, just happy to know that Damian’s ‘friend’ is doing ok after his accident. Manson and Foley look over suspiciously but Jonathan quickly draws them back into a conversation. Danyal pulls out his phone and sends a text to Manson that he needs to talk to Damian privately. She looks even more suspicious after checking her phone but simply passes the device to Foley, never taking her eyes off Damian. While he approves of Danyal having friends dedicated to his safety, it grates on him that anyone would even consider that he would harm his brother.

Turning away from the table, Damian follows his twin to the park. They settle on a bench tucked just off the path and behind a hedge that offers only the barest illusion of privacy, but Damian trusts his brother’s judgement. As he explains the lab, the portal, and the powers he has acquired; Damian squeezes his hands and resists the urge to burn down Fenton Works, no matter how cathartic it may feel.

Danyal looks away, glaring at the ground, and Damian grits his teeth as he knows his brother is holding back. He forces himself to remain calm and not lash out. Having his brother right in front of him and finding that it is more than physical distance that keeps secrets between them feels like betrayal. He was so sure that once they could speak face to face, everything would come to light. Damian had no intention of holding back, no matter what Father or the others would say, and he had been certain his brother felt the same.

Before the betrayal could simmer into resentment, Danyal looks him in the eye. “Ahki, I need you to stay calm. It was an accident. I know I shouldn’t have been messing around in the lab and I already knew my parent’s inventions could be unpredictable.” Oh. So he is worried over Damian’s temper. It isn’t unreasonable given that it would have been inexcusable in the League not to kill someone over an incident like this, but before he can reassure his brother that he follows Father’s teachings Danyal continues. “Damian, I didn’t just gain meta powers. I’m not like the Flash or any other number of heroes who were changed by a lab accident. I died. Ghosts are real and when the portal to the ghost zone opened on top of me, I died and revived and it just–”

He cuts himself off with a deep breath, eyes downcast.

But it’s not true. Danyal is here, holding his hands, and not dead at all. There are no Lazarus pits to revive him and–

Now Damian understands why Danyal stressed not to kill his adoptive parents. After five years believing his brother dead and then sparse communication through a sketchbook and some online messages, the last thing Damian wants is to hear was that he has missed his brother’s ‘death’ a second time.

Fiercely clamping down in an iron grip, Damian stares his brother down. “But you are not. It did not stick and you are not dead. You are here, with me, and I am not going anywhere.”

Looking more tired than Damian had ever seen him, Danyal gingerly grips back. “But that’s just it, Dami. I am. My DNA got spliced with ectoplasm. I’m half ghost. Caught between living and dead. I’m just… a freak.”

Determined to remove such foolish ideas from his twin’s head, Damian barrels on. “No, you are not. You are as alive as I am. While your accident may have given you ghost-like powers, You. Are. Alive.”

Danyal looks so sad, like he knows he’s about to break Damian’s heart, and Damian just wants to scream until his brother listensto him. Clearly, being around the Fentons for so long has been detrimental to his mental health.

Then a beam of light shoots out of Danyal’s midriff and Damian can only stare. The circle splits in two, one hoop rising and the other descending, changing his twins clothing as they go. Warm hands change into cool rubber and finally, the familiar blue eyes turn Lazarus green and his hair turns white and starts to float – as if he were underwater or gravity had simply lost it’s hold. “I’m a ghost, Ahki. At least some of the time. I don’t have a pulse in this form and I don’t need to breath.”

Damian wants to deny it. He wants to yell at the universe until it bows to his will because his brother cannot be dead. Shifting the grip on his twin’s hands up to his wrists, Damian searches for a pulse. Danyal watches on with resignation as Damian tries and fails to find it.

“When I fell out of the portal, I looked like this. I was sure I was just a ghost for the first five minutes before somehow…” The same rings reappear and once more the familiar visage of his brother sits before him, hands warm in his and most importantly, a steady – if slow – heartbeat under his skin. “I don’t understand what happened or exactly what I am now, but I’m still here and that’s what’s most important.”

Yes, Damian supposes it is.

He pulls his brother into his arms and swears that if the Fentons mess up even one more time, he will have Father’s best lawyers rip them apart. They nearly cost him his brother for a second time, accident or not. Damian may not take action yet, but he will neither forget nor forgive.

~*~*~*~*~

All things considered, his brother took things well. Danny was under no impression that Damian is going to let this go, but he isn’t about to run off and use his League skills on the Fentons, so Danny will take the win.

They walk back to their respective friends, hand in hand, and Danny wishes they could stay in this moment. Just a set of twins with their friends hanging out – no supervillains or extra-dimensional portals hanging over their heads. Damian squeezes his hand and Danny knows he’s thinking the same thing.

Squeezing back, Damian and Danny settle on the remaining bench together. They’re gathered around one of those stiff, round tables with three benches welded to it that can sit two people each. It works out perfectly as Jon has one to himself with Sam and Tucker on the last.

Sam, never one to shy away from anything, doesn’t even great them. “So are you going to explain how you two really know each other or are you going to keep pretending you’re just sketchbook buddies?”

Danny offers a wry smile. Yeah, it’s past time he came clean about this. “So you guys know how I’m adopted?” He waits until they both nod. “Well, this is my twin, Damian.”

“You have a twin!?” Superboy jumps out of his seat and nearly jumps across the table – probably reminding himself not to use any powers at the last moment. “You never told me you had a twin!”

Damian scoffs and it warms Danny’s heart like nothing else to hear the familiar sound. “As I did not believe I would be seeing him again, it was not something I believed needed to be brought up.”

It was Tucker’s turn to interject as he waved a hand in time with his words. “Wait– waitwaitwait! Are you saying that you coincidentally became sketchbook buddies? That is way too much of a coincidence!”

“It was not accidental. Danyal arranged the sketchbooks as a way for us to communicate.” Damian stares Tucker down as if he’s a bug under his shoe. Danny squeezes his hand and Damian scoffs again, looking away.

“Danyal?” Sam furrows her brow.

Luckily Danny can field this one before Damian can be dismissive again. “Danyal is the original pronunciation. Jazz pronounced it the American way and since I was sticking around, I just rolled with it.” He gives a half shrug before turning back to his brother. “I prefer Danny.”

Before Damian could respond, Superboy (and Danny really needs something else to call him) leans over even more, nearly lying on the table. “That’s all super cool, but can we get back to Damian having a secret twin?!!”

Danny laughs at Superboy’s whining. “Well it all started when Mother met Father. When two people love each other very much –“

Damian rudely shoulder checks him. “Don’t be ridiculous. We were test tube babies. Mother thought Father would make a suitable genetic donor so she acquired a sample and we were grown in a lab.”

“You take all the romance out of it.” Danny pouts.

Damian raises an imperial eyebrow and manages to look more dismissive than Mother ever had. Truly, it’s a talent. “Mother may love Father, but that had nothing to do with our birth.”

“But your father doesn’t love your mother?” Tucker questions, trying to keep track of all the crazy revelations, he’s even taking notes on his PDA.

“Father does harbor feelings towards our mother, however there is no relationship there.” Damian explains and Danny is surprised to find a measure of relief. Whether it’s knowing there’s actually love between his parents or that Batman isn’t actively involved with Talia al Ghul and thus keeping Damian further out of the League’s reach is a mess he would gladly contemplate never.

“And by Father, you mean Bruce Wayne.” Sam deadpans, arms defensively crossed in front of her chest.

“Of course.” Damian’s already sharp posture straightens even more in obvious pride. Danny smiles at his brother’s obvious happiness and wonders if he would feel the same about their father. And more so, what Father might think of him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny can see Sam gearing up to make a derisive comment about Brucie Wayne but Superboy (bless his exuberant timing) cuts her off. “But why are you here and not in Gotham?”

Danny meets his twin’s eyes and silently tips his head towards their friends. He’s fine with his friends knowing the basics, but as Robin his brother has more at stake. Damian examines him for a long moment before giving a minute nod back. Together, they turn to address their friends.

“As I said before, Mother decided Father would make a suitable genetic donor for her heirs. Grandfather’s empire is vast and he sought to have a successor. We were to be trained as the next Head until such a time that Grandfather could determine which of us was the best candidate.”

“By the time we were eight, it was obvious Damian was more talented.” Damian looked at him sharply, clearly ready to defend Danny’s honor, even to himself. Danny squeezes his hand again and offers a small smile. It was an argument they had had often leading up to the end. Danny may have exceeded Damian in certain fields of study, but when it came to missions, to sheer fighting ability and willingness to kill… when it came to the skills Ras al Ghul valued… Danny was always behind.

Damian grit his teeth and looked away, letting it drop for now. The next part needed to come from Danny regardless.

“Grandfather ordered me to be disposed of. He no longer needed an heir and a spare, so his original plan was to have us fight to the death.” Damian’s eyes snapped back to him in alarm. “Mother convinced him not to. She would dispose of me herself and Damian would be told that I had died because of my own weakness. After all, if Damian had killed me on Grandfather’s orders, he might grow to resent him.”

Tucker’s “what the fuck, dude” summed it up pretty well.

Danny snorts derisively. “Yeah, it’s pretty messed up. I didn’t realize how fucked up most of my childhood was until I read through Jazz’s cult deprograming books. She figured out what kind of situation I came from all on her own and seeing it spelled out like that had me messed me up for a couple weeks.”

“Wait wait wait!” Tucker interjects. “Was this back in fifth grade when you refused to come to school?”

Danny rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I kind of ran off into the woods and actually considered going back to get Damian, but then I remembered that Grandfather’s servants would absolutely kill me and I just kind of wallowed.”

Damian lightly tugs on his hand but Danny can’t bear to look. “Mother took me to Father almost four years ago. Why did you not contact me sooner?”

Danny squeezes his hand still refusing to meet his eyes. “At first, I was afraid. I didn’t know if Mother and Father were in touch and if Grandfather found out I was alive… And then as time went on I was ashamed. I was so happy that you were out, that you finally had the chance to be a kid like I did.” He peeks up through his bangs to meet green eyes. “As time went on I got more desperate to talk to you so even though there was a risk… I just wanted my brother back.”

Damian grabs the back of his neck in the familiar gesture, drawing their foreheads together. “Ahki, I spent years thinking my other half was dead. Even if Grandfather had tried to kill you, I wouldn’t let him. Father and our siblings would fight just as hard to keep you safe.”

He doesn’t ask Danny to come back and he’s grateful. With how his heart is bleeding, it would destroy him to say no. But he would. Danny has a life in Amity. He has a family he loves, friends he doesn’t want to leave, and now, with the portal open, a town to protect. Nothing on the scale of Gotham, but his own little slice of heroism.

And now, even though his brother may not be next to him, Danny still knows they are a team.

A binary star system.