Damian coughed, the blood he'd expected to feel filling up his windpipe gone.

Breathing was easier, far too easy actually. Especially considering Damian could have sworn he'd been stabbed.

His hand went to his chest, the pain non-existent. The sword gone.

He looked around, the last remnants of where he was slayed fading until a more familiar place. One with a bed Damian knew to be soft, the first bed, actually, that he had ever slept in and not felt like he would be attacked if he closed his eyes. He knew there would be a knife under the pillow without looking. Even if he did feel... safe, life had taught him not to become complacent. Danger would come from anywhere, and hell if Damian would be unprepared.

His curtains were pulled back, never closed actually since Damian liked to know what time of the day it was even if he wasn't awake. His sketchbook was still where he left it, and when he-

There was a clattering from the door, scratches that turned more bolder the longer it went unanswered. Damian lifted himself up, still not sure in this reality he'd found himself in. This had to be a trick, some ploy of Mother's that would keep him incapacitated while she went for Father. What was on the other side of this door would not be Titus, it would be something else. Something planted in his mind to battle, to prove himself worthy once more. He didn't fully believe Mother would abandon him after all. She wouldn't.

The scratching continued, Damian diving to his bed to retrieve the knife. Yet, when his hands touched it, he couldn't grasp it. He tried, he more than tried, yet no matter how hard or light or little he touched he couldn't hold it. He could feel it, he could feel the smooth metal on his skin, the slide of the metal at the hilt. He just couldn't hold it.

Damian had felt terror before, he'd grown close friends with terror in fact, it had kept him company through his training, through the long nights on his own wondering where the next sword would come from. But, Damian was always able to defend himself if something happened in those days. He didn't think, not since he'd been too young to remember, a time where he'd been as helpless as he was now, and that was more terrifying than anything he'd faced.

The scratching started again, soft whimpers accompanying it. Damian sought higher ground. He may not be able to get a knife but he would be damned it he didn't take advantage of this time alone to get an advantage.

He perched himself on top of the doorway, his toes sliding slightly on the smooth wood. He found his balance, readying himself as footsteps started towards his door.

The handle turned, the door opened, and something big black and familiar again bounded into Damian's room. He felt himself deflate as Titus sniffed curiously around his room. Maybe he had been wrong.

"See Titus, Master Damian is not back yet," Pennyworth said, having the audacity to step into Damian's room. Damian had made it perfectly clear that he did not like Pennyworth in his room unsupervised. There were things in here that he knew the man would report back to Father if he got wind of, and he thought they had come to an understanding. Damian wasn't messy after all. He barely had enough belongings to be messy, unlike Drake, and always put his laundry in the hall when Pennyworth made his rounds. Yet, here they were.

Damian hopped off his perch, stepping in front of Pennyworth, hoping his glare was enough to drive his point home and not be cute like Grayson said it was. "I see we may have to speak about boundaries again Pennyworth. Father will not be pleased when I tell him you have been invading my private space. I have heard him specifically tell you in the past to let me be."

Pennyworth ignored him, he didn't even spare a glance at Damian, and instead followed Titus around as the big lumbering dog sniffed around Damian's things.

"Pennyworth!"

Nothing. Not even a look. Damian felt himself bristle. Father had said, he had promised that Pennyworth would respect what he said if he talked to the man.

Maybe it was his tone. Damian huffed, trying to remember how Grayson asked for things. He was always listened to, people didn't immediately shut him down. "Pennyworth, I have asked you to keep out of my room. I will forget this lapse so long as you don't do it again in future."

Still Pennyworth didn't turn around, and Damian was out of patience. He tugged the mans' arm, or, he tried to. He tried again, his hand doing the same thing it did with the knife. He could feel the fabric of Pennyworth's blazer under his hand, the muscle underneath it, but he couldn't hold it, he couldn't physically grasp it.

Damian tried, he tried until he felt fat tears land on his cheeks. He wiped them away, his breath hitching as he realised he could touch himself, he could feel himself, hold his other hand, his tunic, but when he tried touching other things...

No.

"Pennyworth," Damian begged. "Alfred, look at me." He heard his voice turn shrill, a tone he hadn't employed since he was five and asking why he had to learn about another martial art when it hurt reaching his ears. "Please. Alfred, please."

The man didn't look. Neither did Titus, who usually would have been slavering on Damian's hand by now. They didn't because they couldn't see him. He-

The blade, the blood, the world outside the window still showed the shadows Damian had left in. It was night, his father was out, his family were out fighting for their lives. Damian had been out too, until...

The spit in his lungs didn't choke him like it usually did when he cried. He didn't have a need to choke any more, he didn't have a need for spit either. Damian didn't think he had cried as much as he did that night. Pennyworth left after Titus had wandered to a different part of the manor. He didn't disturb any of Damian's things, he didn't see Damian curl into a ball on his bed, he just left, and it hurt. It hurt because no one could see him, no one would ever see him again. Everything around him was a reminder of what he had lost. A room that would no longer be his, a dog that would never lick him again. His breath that came so easily despite the fact Damian was sobbing so hard it should have hurt.

Which it did. Not a physical hurt. Never a physical hurt again. But in his heart, his silent metaphorical heart, it hurt.

He stayed there crying, after a while just letting the tears fall because it was the only thing that felt right now, until something crashed down the hall.

Curiosity won out when he figured he had nothing to lose any more. Picking himself up, Damian was glad to note he didn't have to open doors any more, nor was he trapped in his room since he couldn't grab anything.

The hallway was silent, Damian wondering which direction to turn just as more crashing reached his ears. He made his way down to the second floor, Drake standing in his way at the bottom of the stairs. Damian would have liked to think Drake was the source of the crashing, perhaps he had gotten into a scuffle with an assassin that was besting him. Sadly, Drake was intact, nursing a bandaged arm, but intact. He was merely a spectator to the chaos coming from the study.

It took some creative manoeuvring to hop over Drake since there was no way Damian was touching him, not until he figured out what exactly being dead truly meant. Damian would be lying if he didn't half hope Drake would ask what the hell he was doing as he landed. Just turn to him, look at him, but Drake was just as blank as Pennyworth, focused entirely on the study, not knowing that Damian was mere feet in front of him.

Damian poked his head around, the tail end of Father's shout finishing. Grayson was on the receiving end, giving as good as he got. Damian had never seen him like this before. He'd been around when Grayson and Father got into small fights, one or the both of them shouting into the night, but never had he seen the violence. Damian supposed Grayson had been trying to shield him from this side of him since Drake didn't seem that shocked to see things flying around.

Both of them were upset, both of them screaming, shouting, breaking things until they were trapped in their own world of grief. As the sun rose, Grayson finally collapsed, Drake waking from his sentry post on the stairs to come comfort him. Father was still up, still pacing. He was crying, Damian had never seen Father cry, not like this. It made him want to do something, it made him want to show them he was still here, because he was, he was still here. But Damian wasn't stupid. If Pennyworth hadn't seen him Father wouldn't either.

So Damian took a seat and watched. He sat there as Pennyworth came up from the cave, for once not even trying to lift the mood by offering food or some quip he, and the rest of the family, thought were amusing. He sat there as Father finally stumbled to the ground, and he sat there as someone very familiar ran to curl up in his father's lap.

Damian had never liked the original Robin costume. He understood the design when Grayson explained it to him, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The whole thing was too bright, too obscene for what they did. While he would never admit it, Damian was kind of glad that Drake had made the modifications he had to the suit. If he hadn't, Damian would probably be wearing those scaly shorts that hugged the boy in Father's lap.

"Don't be sad Bruce," The boy muttered. "I'm sure you tried your best."

Damian felt a stab of anger, for a moment, he believed that Father had replaced him already. That, maybe, what had the family down wasn't his death, perhaps something else catastrophic had happened. Yet, Father didn't look like he noticed the boy in his lap. He didn't hug back, he didn't twitch, he didn't look at the boy that was practically clinging to him. He just sat there and wept.

The boy hugged tighter, getting himself comfortable for what would be a long day. "You'll be fine Dad. You always are."

The 'dad' was the word that made it click for Damian. He could have brushed off the curly hair and skin tone since every single one of his father's wards looked alike. Even Damian shared some of their features, his skin darker than theirs but Grayson and Todd had some colour too. Unlike Drake who was as pale as a newly made corpse.

But Damian had seen that face in pictures Grayson had shown him. The cheeks that still retained a slither of fat, the legs that were bony, that still hadn't filled out from his abuse on the streets. It was Todd.

Fifteen year old, dead Todd.

But, that didn't make any sense. Todd wasn't fifteen. He wasn't dead either. Last Damian saw he was trying to subtly use Drake as a human shield against an army of ninjas. Yet, there he was.

The day was long, no one opting to move for a good few hours. Damian would have found himself bored, it wasn't like he was mourning himself, but he had Todd to figure out. Dead, fifteen year old Todd. He couldn't wrap his head around it. Or why he was being so nice to Father.

Sure, Damian had seen Todd speak to Father, he was even civil before they went out to confront Mother. But he wasn't cuddly, almost Grayson-esque like he was now. He didn't leave Father's lap, sure, he moved, even lounged, but he remained in the gap Father created with his thighs. Through the long hours they all sat there in silence Todd filled it with trivial things he had done. A new book he had found in the library. A portrait he found in the attic. He even told Father about Alfred the cat and how Todd had followed him all the way across the gardens to a rabbit hole.

He was trying to make Father feel better Damian realised. Grayson used the same technique when Damian was upset. He would talk and talk until Damian was distracted enough to start thinking about something else. Only, in these circumstances it wasn't working.

"He can't hear you," Damian said.

Todd stopped his stream of none sense, his feet that had been waving in the air stilling as he tipped his head slowly towards Damian. He met Damian's eyes, looking at the other people in the room before pointing to himself. "Are you talking to me?"

"Who else?" Damian tutted.

Todd swung himself up, "You can see me?"

Damian looked down at himself, "Obviously." His Robin suit was still on, not a speck of blood in sight. It looked like death removed the wounds but didn't have the heart to change him into something more comfortable. Todd either.

"So you're..."

"Dead," Damian said, the word sounding wrong on his tongue. It was the first time he'd said it out loud. The first time Todd had probably heard it said to him in a while since he too flinched.

Todd didn't stay down for long, most noticeably because Pennyworth entered the study again, a plate stacked high with pancakes he set shakily down on the desk. Todd was up and sniffing at them as soon as Pennyworth moved away, he hummed low in his throat. "They taste nice, right?" Todd asked.

"Pancakes?"

Todd nodded, "I remember liking them. Tasting them. They were sweet, or, they weren't. It's been a while since I ate one."

Five years if Damian remembered correctly. Damian stood, approaching Todd slowly. He wasn't as dangerous as Todd of present but that wasn't to say he was a pushover either. When he was next to the kid, and wasn't immediately attacked, Damian took a sniff himself, his mind lamenting that he would never eat again now either. "Pennyworth always makes them sweet for you. It's one thing you and Grayson have in common."

Todd smiled, "Yeah, I know." He sent a look to Grayson, the man sleeping, or passed out, on the floor where he landed. It was a look Damian couldn't decipher. Really, he'd never seen Todd look at Grayson like that. He'd never seen Todd look at a lot of things, he usually had that ridiculous helmet on. "Doesn't mean I remember what it tastes like."

"Well, I am not going to describe it. I don't care much for Pennyworth's pancakes."

"Didn't," Todd said.

"What?"

Todd smiled sheepishly at him, "You didn't care much for them. Past tense."

Damian hit him. It was a defensive move more than anything else, and Damian was surprised that his fist actually connected with Todd's jaw. Todd was too, his eyes wide as he fell to the floor. Damian's hand was shaking as Todd stood. Damian doubted Todd's jaw hurt, they were dead, why would it hurt, but the fact that they could touch each other had obviously shaken Todd enough that muscle memory remembered that it hurt, that he should touch where the punch had landed and make sure the skin was alright.

Todd didn't look mad, not his usual mad that was on his older face anyway. Yet Damian still backed away when he raised his hand. "Please," Todd said.

Damian shook his head, running from the room. This was too much. He'd just died. He couldn't be dealing with this until he'd had at least a few days to process.

He hid in his room, not even able to burrow under the covers because he couldn't freaking touch anything.

Damian didn't stop himself from crying again. The rest of his family was crying, Damian had a right to as well. He stayed there as the sun set and night set in.

Titus had come around four times throughout the day. Pennyworth shooed him off every time, the door remaining closed no matter how many times Damian wished he could have Titus with him. He didn't try and find Titus when he wandered off. While Damian wanted the dog next to him he didn't have the strength to get off his bed. Mentally anyway.

It felt weird that Damian didn't tire. Usually, while he was able to stay awake for more than one day, his body showed some kind of fatigue around this time. Yet, Damian lay there just as awake as he had been when he showed up in this room.

Todd didn't bother him. Damian thought he either had more tact than Grayson, which was slightly true in the interactions they had shared previously, or he was busy comforting Father still. Both were plausible, and none had Damian wanting to find him again.

The night passed and pretty soon it was morning again. Damian didn't really know how may days passed after that. Two or three, maybe four. All he knew was that he lay there, uncertain and afraid, not knowing what he was to do.

Father had told him that dying meant he would be transported to this other realm. One where he would see his fore bearers, his grandmother and grandfather. Where he would live. Where he wouldn't be trapped in this half life, never touching those he cared for again.

He would never be held by Grayson. By his Father. Father would never wish him a good morning, he would never talk to him again. Not really. There wasn't much he could do.

It was loneliness that eventually drove him from his room. He couldn't be by himself any more. He needed to see someone, even if they were screaming.

Everyone had moved from the study. It had been days, of course they had moved, so Damian went looking for them. Strangely enough he found Todd first. The weird ghost boy looked unnatural poking his head through Grayson's door. Literally through Grayson's door. Half of his body was in the hallway and the rest through the wood.

Damian cleared his throat, Todd shooting out of Grayson's room, his ghostly pale cheeks dusting red as he straightened his tunic out. "Damian, didn't see you there."

"Tt. Obviously." Damian narrowed his eyes at Todd. "What were you doing?"

Todd's face went impossibly darker, his throat clearing, "Just, checking up on Dick. He's not been sleeping. None of them have."

Damian pursed his lips, walking around Todd to poke his own head through Grayson's door. Grayson was walking around like he was wounded, every other step he took stumbling slightly as he made his way from the drawers at the back to his bed. Somehow, despite being near his clothes, Grayson had neglected to find something to sleep in, his scarred skin on display as he flopped face first into his sheets.

When Damian looked back at Todd he found the teen rubbing his neck wide eyed at Damian, embarrassment colouring every inch of his face. Damian didn't get it. "He has passed out."

Todd nodded, turning on his heel to some other part of the manor. Curiosity had Damian following. Despite how much it pained him to admit it, he was lonely, and Todd was the only one in this place that could see him. That could touch him if Damian let him. He didn't want to be an observer to his own family. Not yet.

Todd ended up in the library, his favourite place in the manor Damian remembered Father saying. Todd didn't look too put out however, not like how Damian thought he would, and the why became clear when he picked out a book from one of the shelves and set himself in the chair near the window.

"Wh- how did you do that?"

Todd shrugged, not pretending like he didn't know what Damian was talking about. "Practice."

Damian came closer, perching himself on the arm of the chair. Todd turned a page, then another as he found the number he was looking for. There was even a crease on the top of the page, a marker. Todd had moved it, he had made a crease in a book. "So you can interact with them?"

Todd nodded, but he looked anything but pleased about it. "Look Damian, I've been here for a while. You don't think I've had ideas about talking to someone. I do. Every day I want to tell them I'm here."

"So why don't you?" Damian would. He would tell Pennyworth to stop sending Titus away. He would tell Drake to look after Alfred because he was the only other person around the manor enough to remember there was a cat running around.

But, "I have. I've tried, but it only freaks them out. You know, as much as they say they miss you, they don't want to imagine you're still around. If you try and talk to them, they're gonna go crazy, they're gonna fixate and then where will that leave them? One time a few months after I... I started writing on Bruce's mirror. It was small things at first, just to see if he would get them. Have a good day, I miss you, I wish I could go out as Robin with you. You know what he did?" Damian shook his head, "He smashed the mirror and almost fired Alfred. He thought he was either going crazy or someone was playing a prank on him. It's best if we just leave them alone."

Damian didn't want to leave them alone. It wasn't fair. Why should he hide his existence? He was still here. But the way Todd was looking at him told Damian that if he even thought about going down that path, there was no way he would be hanging around. Now, Damian didn't exactly consider Todd a friend, he probably never would, but since he was the only person in this place he could safely interact with, Damian wasn't going to chance a life of solitude over a one sided conversation with Grayson.

"Fine," he huffed. "But you must teach me how to handle things in return. I refuse to spend my time here floating around when I could spend it doing something more entertaining."

Which, Todd agreed with.

They had all the time in the world to learn, so when Damian didn't grasp something the first time he didn't give up. He refused to, after all, if he was the type to give up he never would have the skills he did today. So he didn't stomp off when his hand slid through the book Jason was touching. He may have pouted, even growled a little, but he didn't give up.

Todd, surprisingly had patience in abundance. He didn't snap at Damian, nor did he sneer or call him names. He was nothing like his other alive self, which made it slightly easier to get along with.

"What do you make of Drake?" Damian asked. It had been a week since his death. They were sitting inside Drakes room, Todd subtly pushing a cup of coffee further and further off Drakes desk when the teen wasn't looking. Apparently, while Todd said he didn't interact with him he didn't mean completely cut them off. Often times when Damian went searching for him Todd was up to some mischief or another. It made Damian wonder at how many accidents around the manor were actually Todd's doing.

"Who, Tim?" Todd hummed, "He's okay. I mean, he's a bit righteous but, it could be worse."

"He is righteous," Damian agreed. It was one of the traits that sparked the arguments between the two. "He always insists he is right. He does not even listen to me if I suggest something different."

"He could've been more considerate. Like, I've seen him shut you down. But, like I said, he could be worse."

"How worse?"

The coffee cup teetered on the edge Drake still puttering about on the other side of the room. "Well, he could've been Randy Colestein." Todd pushed the cup over the edge, the pair of them watching Drake jump and swear at the spilled liquid. Damian spared a smile as Todd crawled back up next to him. "Randy Colestein was a kid I went to school with. Total stuck up asshole. He used to make fun of disadvantaged kids, push them about a bit. I got a lot of it. But like, imagine him with Bruce's training. You wouldn't have stood a chance."

Damian scoffed, "I doubt that. I'm not disadvantaged."

"No," Jason agreed giving him a pointed look, "But you aren't white either. If there was another thing he hated it was foreigners. Not even people from different countries. Just, if you weren't white you weren't right. You've seen what hate can do Dami. Trust me, Tim's not too bad."

Damian had encountered such people in his stay in America. They would hate him on sight for no other reason than his skin. There was a journalist once who shared some of these views, Damian remembered the article written had been disgustingly uncomplimentary. Damian hadn't stopped his father from suing the life out of that man. To think someone like that could be under this roof too just proved to Damian maybe Todd had a point when he said Drake wasn't too bad.

It also stood to reason that while Todd did say that, Drake was one od his moat beloved forms of entertainment. When he wasn't following after Grayson like a lost duckling he was with Drake. Hiding was his favourite thing to do. Todd would wait for something important Drake needed in the moment and take it, hiding it under pillows or in the hallway. Damian was surprised with how much Todd got away with. Surely, if he had been doing this for five years someone would have noticed.

But no. Time and time again Todd got away. It made Damian all the more determined to learn to pick things up.

"You gotta concentrate. It's like learning to make a fist, you gotta know exactly what you're gonna touch and ready your hand to make contact in the right place. You gotta think solid, otherwise you'll just whisp away."

Damian tried. The two of them were in Grayson's room today, Todd busy watching Grayson preen himself in the mirror as he gave instruction. The object Damian was trying to lift was Grayson's stuffed elephant. It had caught Damian's eye the moment they walked in. Mostly because Damian had never seen it before.

Todd had, which made it a rather old possession. Apparently Grayson only dug it out when he was scared or sad. When he needed help to sleep but refused to go see Father.

Damian tried picking it up, solidifying his hand enough to do it. Yet, after fifteen minutes nothing happened. With a huff, Damian batted at one of the legs, surprised to see it actually moved.

"Did you see that Todd. It moved. I moved it."

Success was short lived since Damian couldn't do it again, but he didn't mind. Progress was progress, even if it was small.

It had been two weeks since Damian's demise when one afternoon the door slammed downstairs. It was such a loud noise, most noticeably because the manor had been so quiet. There had been no arguments save the one in the study. It had been like everyone was in their own little world, never intersecting except for meals.

Todd perked to attention, scrambling from the library they had holed themselves up in to the staircase. Damian followed, finding Drake to be the cause of the noise when he caught up.

He was crying, clutching his abdomen like he'd been punched. Damian thought he had been before he remembered Drake never showed signs of distress. It wasn't long before he slumped against the wall, sliding down until he was a ball of pathetic weeping.

"The clone must have said something distasteful," Damian said,.

Todd arched an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

Damian shrugged, "There are few things that leave Drake like this. His parents, the clone or Farther. Since I can't see father and his parents are dead I am guessing the clone."

Todd nodded, leaning his head on his elbows as the two of them watched Drake. "You know, I thought the same thing about Dick when he did that. I thought it had been Kori, or Babs. Maybe even another fight with Bruce. But, then I saw the suit, and the flowers. Dick didn't make it to my funeral. He dressed up all nice when he came back instead and went to cry over my grave for a few hours. He couldn't bring himself to give over the flowers, so he gave them to Alfred instead. It was nice seeing them when I went to the kitchen. Reminded me that, maybe Dick did care about me."

Damian looked at Drake again. At the suit that hung off him, that always hung off him because it was something Pennyworth had thought he would grow into. He caught the shoes still trailing specks of mud. How there was no one else in the manor. He caught the knife held in Drake's hands. The one Damian always kept under his pillow.

He turned away. Todd could handle Drake if something malicious happened with that knife. He didn't want to see this. He didn't want to accept... not yet.

He ended up wiling away the hours practising. The kitchen, his room, Todd's room, anywhere that Drake didn't wander into on his quest to be pathetically sad.

The rest of the family stumbled in as it got dark. From the loud rambling below he knew before looking that Grayson was drunk. Damian had only seen Grayson drunk the once, after Father came back actually, and it had been seared into his brain. Most notably because Grayson was a touchy drunk. He latched onto Damian and didn't let go. Weird how Damian would kill for that to happen again.

it was Grayson's loud voice that eventually drew Damian from his sulk. He followed the noise to find them in one of the living areas Grayson already laid down before he could do injury to himself. It didn't hinder his mouth however, that was busy spewing half coherent tales of things he found funny that Damian had done. Damian didn't like hearing himself be referred to in the past tense. He hated it. He hated all of this and would have left had he not spied Todd lingering at the edge of this scene.

It wasn't the younger, as much as Damian would have preferred. No, it was the alive Todd, the one that was staring straight at him. At first glance there was nothing to assume there was anything wrong with Todd. He looked just as withdrawn as the rest of his family, even Drake who had managed to drag himself down to lean against fathers shoulder. He had taken sentry at the doorway leading to the gardens, and from afar it looked like he was merely lost in his own thoughts, staring at nothing. But Damian was in his eyesight, he could see Todd take in the Robin suit, his healed skin. Todd could see him.

He backed slowly out of the room, running as soon as he was away until he came to Todds old room. The younger was inside, he was adding a cat collar to a collection he had under the bed, one Damian had more than supplied when Alfred turned up missing his own.

"What's up?" He asked.

"Todd can see me. He saw me just now. I went down and he looked at me."

Todd's face didn't light up in surprise like Damian had hoped. He merely rolled his eyes and pried Alfred's tag from his collar. "Yeah, I know."

"You know? Why did you not tell me? I could have-"

"You could have what?" Todd prompted when Damian came up short. "You could have went, surprise big bro, I'm still here. Guess you can add me to the dead Robin club now."

"Shut up," Damian hissed, hopping on the bed anyway.

Todd sighed, pushing his collection back into place. "I was going to tell you. Really. But, it's not like you were on the best of terms with me when you were alive. That's right, I see everything. Besides, other me... he doesn't exactly believe I'm here."

"What?"

"I mean, he probably will now with you here too. But before, I think he just thought I was a product of some lazarus induced misplaced guilt."

"Todd never did like coming to the manor," Damian remembered. If his younger self had been haunting the place Damian didn't blame him. He was sure that if he kept seeing a younger him he would be questioning his sanity every time he came to the manor. "He will not take my presence here well will he?"

"I wouldn't- oh wait," Todd laughed.

Damian stopped himself from scoffing, Todds sense of humour cheesy but volatile if provoked. He wasn't that much different from his older self actually. Damian honestly didn't see what the others meant when they said Todd had changed. As far as he could tell, younger or older, he was still an annoying specimen of a human being.

They stayed in Todds room as Grayson's slurred stories grew fainter and fainter. When they eventually stopped, Damian was only minimally surprised when Todd, older Todd, stormed into the room.

He took a look around, his eyes lingering on the younger version of himself before focusing on Damian. "This really you or am I hallucinating?"

"Tt, believe me, I wish it were not so as well."

Todd hissed, his hands running through his hair until it stuck up in wild directions, "Fuck."

Todd's younger self huffed, "Don't swear Jay, you know Bruce will make you pay up."

"Fuck," Todd said again, his tone louder than before, bordering on too loud if the rest of the family were still awake. "So, you're what, ghosts?"

"It would appear that way," Damian said.

Todd turned to his younger self, "okay, say I buy the ghost thing. What the hell does that make you? 'Cause as far as I know I'm alive and kicking right now."

Younger Todd shrugged. "Don't know. All I do is one minute we were tripping the mat from under Tim's feet and the next I felt weird and you turn up a year later."

Todd nodded, "So... so they're right. I'm not... me. Not all of me." A sound that was almost a sob croaked the back of Todd's throat. "Fuck."

Younger Todd hopped up to pat his older self's arm. "Maybe not, but you seem pretty you to me. And I should know."

Damian huffed, "Todd, your sense of humour is appalling."

Younger Todd stuck his tongue out.

Things were awkward for a while. Older Todd took to pretending to be busy in his room, shooting the two ghosts looks when he didn't think they noticed. Younger Todd on the other hand left the room every two minutes to check on those downstairs, telling Damian, mainly, what father was doing.

"I do not wish to know," Damian snapped the fifth time Todd told him Father was still upset.

Little Todd deflated, creeping slowly closer to him, "Look little D-"

"Do not call me that!" That was Graysons name for him. Only Graysons. Todd would not use it, and he definitely would not use it to appeal to his better nature.

"Damian," Todd corrected. "Look, like it or not, you're... dead. You're dead, and there's no going back. I know it's hard and I know it's even harder to do nothing but watch, but that's what's happening now. We're both trapped here, and like it or not, they're here too. If you're avoiding someone just because it's painful it's not going to go away. It's going to get worse and worse until when you finally see them it's going to destroy you. Bruce is hurting, so's the rest of them. If you don't see this now, when they're not grieving, when they're walking around trying to forget you, you're going to wonder whether they really cared."

"Is that what we did?" Older Todd asked. "Ignored them?"

The younger shrugged. "Kind of. We didn't want to see Bruce so upset so we stayed away. Then, when we wanted to see him, he was trying to forget us. He had Tim. He never said the things we wanted to hear, the things he had already said when we weren't there. Maybe if we hadn't avoided Bruce, you wouldn't be so angry at him."

Older Todd scoffed. "Doubtful. The old man would've found some way or another to make us angry at him."

"Maybe," Young Todd agreed. "But maybe if you had seen him at his worst you would have more compassion, understanding, for why he does what he does. You don't remember being dead do you?"

Older Todd shook his head slowly. All the answer the younger needed.

Damian kept that conversation in mind as the hours passed and older Todd finally found another room to sleep the night in. Come the next morning, when older Todd checked in, "Just to make sure I'm not going crazy," Damian followed him down to breakfast.

Drake and Cain were the only two up, both of them with dark circles under their eyes. Damian could see Todd actively trying not to look at Damian as he sat next to Cain. Now Damian had grown used to his life of not eating he could see why Todd missed it. The smells alone had his stomach aching in phantom want. He knew when Todd got in one of his moods he would steal a few pancakes or Grayson's cereal from someone's plates to spite them. It happened more often than Damian had thought, which, again, made him wonder how no one had noticed. Was his family really that unobservant?

"Morning," Grayson grumbled, wobbling his way into the room.

"Surprised you can move with how much you drank last night," Todd said.

Grayson mumbled something under his breath, leaning his head heavily on Todd's shoulder. "I think I need to sleep a few more hours."

"You can," Drake offered. "I can go with Bruce to the graveyard. I want to say hello to my parents. It's been a while."

Grayson shook his head as much as he could on Todd's shoulder. "No, I'll go. I promised Dami I would. I managed to find the batarang I flung at him when we met. Thought it would be nice to give it to him."

Damian rolled his eyes. Unless Grayson meant his knife there was no batarang to give over. Damian had tracked down the small batarangs a month after his partnership with Grayson. He'd melted them all down to make the knife as a reminder to not underestimate Grayson. Also maybe so he could drive it through Grayson's skin if this arrangement didn't pan out.

"I'm sure he will appreciate it," Todd ground out, warning Damian with a glare like there was some way his little brother could still find a way to make Grayson upset.

"You think?"

"Yeah." Todd didn't look away as he said, "I'm sure if he were here now he would tell you how much he appreciates it. How much he loves you too."

Damian huffed, "I do not love him."

"I mean, he wouldn't say it out loud, but you could always read him better than us. In his own weird way, he would tell you."

Grayson sniffed heavily on Todd's shoulder, his eyes tearing up. Damian was over in a second, his hands still not grasping as he tried to pry Grayson away. "You are upsetting him. Cease at once Todd."

Todd just gave him a look, like Damian had just proved exactly what he wanted. Todd brought his arms up, catching Grayson as he slid over to latch himself on Todd's shoulders.

"Did it hurt?" Grayson sniffed.

"Did what hurt Dickie?"

"When you died. Did it hurt? Do you think Dami..."

Todd didn't answer for a while. One because Damian could see him remembering his own death and the boy still lingering around the manor. Two because Damian had nodded, he couldn't help it. Dying had hurt, he could still feel the blade through his chest.

Todd had an ability that Damian did not have however as he shook his head, drawing back to focus on Grayson as he said, "You know what Dickie, I can't remember. It must have been fast, real fast. The same was probably for Damian too. So fast he didn't have time to hurt."

"Yeah," Grayson agreed shakily. He wiped his eyes, grabbing his box of sugary flakes. "I'm gonna go wake Bruce. I wanna get going soon."

He didn't dawdle, nearly running from the kitchen. The rest of them turned back to the sparse food on the table, Pennyworth too busy with fending off the paparazzi to make them a big breakfast these days.

"How long are you staying?" Drake asked.

Todd shrugged, "Few days. Thought B might like to have someone out who's not compromised. I didn't really know the kid after all."

Drake hummed, Cain levelling Todd a look like she knew part of that statement was a lie.

"You're helping him," Drake said. "Bruce too. What you said yesterday, I know it helped Bruce sleep a bit easier."

"Don't know how."

Drake smirked, well, his lips upturned slightly, as much of a smirk as it could be these days. "You know for a fact Bruce wants to think Damian's happy. That whole image of Damian meeting his parents... I know I felt a bit easier believing it."

"Whatever."

Breakfast passed with sparse conversation. Todd mentioned they would have to get Alfred a new collar, which proved he had, at least, found the collection under his bed. Drake promised to go get one after taking Titus for a walk. Something Damian could no longer do.

Not once did father come down, and by the time Damian went looking, dead Todd was telling him Father had left with Grayson. He would have been more perturbed had something else not been niggling at the edge of his mind.

"Who else is here?" Damian asked. They had relocated to the library, ghost and alive Todd both fighting over a book they wished to read.

Older Todd let the book go, the thought most likely just crossing his mind too. "I don't think I've seen anyone else. I didn't even think I was seeing myself until last night."

"That's because there is no one else here," younger Todd said.

"No one? But, surely Grandmother and Grandfather should be here?"

Todd shrugged, "If they are they've done a good job hiding. I haven't seen them, and believe me, I've been looking."

"So there is only the two of us?"

"Looks like it," Todd agreed.

"That can't be right," Older Todd said. "You've seen the journals in this place. It should be teeming with ghosts around here."

"Ghosts?" The three of them turned to see Drake lounging in the doorway. "Why are you talking about ghosts to yourself?"

Todd bristled, his volatile nature rearing its head. "What are you doing skulking the halls? Making sure I'm behaving myself? I never should have come here. Can't believe I was actually trying to be nice. I see where it gets me now."

Drake visibly backed up, well versed with where Todd's mood swings landed him. "I wasn't checking up on you, I swear. Alfred sent me after you. Said something about needing help with the cake for tonight."

Todd didn't calm down, and Drake didn't hang around longer now his message had been delivered. The weird thing was that as soon as Drake was out of sight Todd switched faces faster than Two Face. He deflated, turning back to the ghosts in the room, "you gotta warn me when someone's coming. I'm not heading back to Arkham."

Younger Todd chuckled, turning back to the book in his lap.

Older Todd left when no answers were forthcoming from his younger self. Damian thought he was just being cautious before he remembered. Todd had been here for five years. Five years of lonliness, of looking for someone to talk to. He probably thought there were others too, like there should be. When there wasn't,it just proved there was something either going on or gone wrong.

Either way Damian didn't push. He merely sat down and tried practicing moving things around.

Father and Grayson returned just after noon. Father headed straight for the study, Damian hesitating, but following after a while.

Father was in his chair, a usual sight. What wasn't was the blank screen. He was just sat there, staring at nothing.

"Father?"

He couldn't hear Damian. He never would. But Todd hadn't turned away when Father was breaking down so Damian didn't either.

"Father, I just... it wasn't your fault. With mother. I was the one who wouldn't listen. I did not trust you to do what was necessary. It was my own fault. Mine and mothers." It hurt to look at him. This was the man Damian had yearned to meet ever since he found out what a father was. He wwasn't how Damian had imagined. But, somehow, that made him more real. "I am sorry we did not get a chance to know each other better."

There was a shaky breath, then father was folding himself in his hands. Damian stayed with him through it. He couldn't bring himself to leave. It was his fault father was upset after all.

The hours passed and father didn't move. His tears had dried but he couldn't bring himself to remove himself from the cave. Eventually, it was Drake that came to get him.

"Everyone's upstairs."

Father nodded, "Don't suppose I can wait it out down here?"

Drake shrugged. "You probably could. No one would blame you. But Dick looks like he's going to drown his sorrows in wine again. I don't think it's a good idea to leave Jason alone either. He was mumbling something about ghosts earlier. I think he's taking this a bit closer to heart than we thought."

"Jason." Father stood rather shakily, but managed to make it up the stairs and to the living room.

There were more people than there were the night before. Damian spotted both Todds making eyes at Wonder Woman. Almost all of the Justice League looked to be there, the alien the first to approach father with condolences. Damian supposed they could not have made it to the funeral without some qiestions being asked. This must have been what Drake meant by later. True enough, Damian could see a rather sugary looking three tier cake at the back of the room, Robin's colours on each of them.

Despite how much Damian wished to find something else to do, he stayed by Fathers side all night. He couldn't make himself leave. Even if he couldn't touch like he wanted he could lean against him, Damian could still feel, and Father had always been a source of comfort to him. It made listening to people share some not so flattering stories about him that much better. Made accepting his death that little bit easier.

Younger Todd joined him at some point through the night, they took sentry posts around father, people seeming to unconsciously know to steer clear. Todd didn't stay still all night. He seemed excited with all these capes around, telling Damian his own stories. Ones these heros probably didn't want Damian to know. Apparently a lot used to happen in these walls.

Eventually however, father retreated to his room. Damian didn't follow, he'd had enough of silence, so he stayed with Todd as the boy stole glass after glass from the alien's hand.

They had a pretty good collection when they hid themselves in Todd's room. Damian helped line them up, each one a trophy stolen from one of the most powerful beings alive.

Older Todd came up after an hour, he poked his head in, sniggering when he saw the glasses. "He was blaming me. Guess he wasn't wrong."

Younger Todd beamed, especially when Todd added his own to the mix, claiming he may as well be blamed for something he'd done.

The door clattered like someone had fell against it. Damian tensed as the other two sighed, older Todd standing and opening his arms as Grayson opened the door.

"Jay," he whined, falling into them readily.

"You gotta stop this Dickie. You know it doesn't do any good."

Grayson grumbled swaying the two of them to fall on Todd's bed. Younger Todd dragged Damian out, demanding he lead them to where Alfred was hiding- he needed a new collar for his collection. Damian went, if only so he didn't have to see Grayson cry again.

Damian managed to hold his first object four days after that night. "You're despicable!" He didn't even notice it at the time, too angry at older Todd to care. "How could you? You deceitful, arrogant ass!" He threw another book at Todd, the man blocking it as another got him in the stomach.

"For God's sake will you calm down."

"You kissed him!"

Younger Todd looked distinctly satisfied as Damian repeated it again, the older hissing as another book made contact.

"For crying out- he kissed me. Me. I pushed him off."

"You still touched him!"

Damian hadn't even been meaning to see Grayson that morning. He had decided to spend the day following Titus, curious as to where he went when Damian wasn't around. Titus just so happened to be passing Grayson's door where Damian had seen him and Todd kissing none too chastely against the wall. Todd hadn't been lying when he said he pushed Grayson off, but he hadn't done so until he saw Damian.

"The hell?"

The book landed on Todd just as Drake rushed in. He took one look at the many books littering the floor and Todd covering his midsection before whispering, "Damian? God, Dami? You here?" He turned to Todd. "You weren't- you meant Damian. When you were talking about ghosts. Damian's here isn't here. Dami?"

He threw a book at Drake, "Do not be familiar with me Drake."

"He doesn't like you calling him Dami," Todd said, straightening from his crouch. He kept his hands up just in case however.

Tim didn't seem to feel the book, his eyes wide as he looked around the room. "This isn't my imagination. God, you're here. You're here. Damian I am so sor-"

Damian threw another book at him.

"Ow! Stop it," Todd snapped the book landing on him rather than Drake.

"Then stop kissing Grayson."

"He kissed me!"

"Who kissed who?" Drake asked.

Todd reddened, glaring at Damian. "No one," he said, knowing full well Drake couldn't hear Damian shouting back.

That didn't mean Damian couldn't throw a book at him.

"This is so weird," Drake said. "Wait, can you hear him?"

Jason nodded, blocking another flying object. "Turns out my resurrection may have granted me some abilities."

"So, you can see him?"

"Unfortunately."

"And it's Damian. Like, really Damian?"

Todd nodded again, "Trust me. It's the brat."

Drake started pacing, "How long have you had this ability? Can you see anyone else? What's Damian saying now?"

Todd edged slowly behind Drake, trying to use him as a human shield as he said, "Since I came back. Just one other ghost and he's screaming at me to face him in single combat for Grayson's honour."

Drake accepted all of this far too easily. He must have been desperate for some confirmation of the afterlife. "Wait, Dick? What's Dick got to..." he hit Todd in the arm. "Seriously? First off, ew, he's your brother. And second, he's grieving."

"He kissed me!"

Drake made another face, the support making Damian calm down a bit.

"Okay, you know what, I don't need this judgy attitude. Especially not from you."

"From me? What have I ever-"

"Kon?" Todd let that sink in. "That's right, I know all about that little affair. I think someone who kissed a taken man has no right to spout judgement on me."

"He's your brother."

"Adopted, and not until after I died so technically I started this incest free. And at least my guy is single."

"Your guy is Dick," Drake shouted.

"So what? We're both consenting adults. I'm not pressuring him into anything."

"He's grieving."

"He wasn't when we started this."

The room went silent, Todd realising what he'd said. Damian was the first to speak, "This has happened before?"

"Fuck," Todd hissed as the first book came at him.

It took younger Todd holding him back for the books to stop flying. He hauled Damian to one of the chairs, telling him there was nothing he could do.

"Okay," Drake huffed when he realised there would be no more attacks. "I think we got a bit off topic here. Whatever you have with Dick,"he ducked like he expected to be attacked again. "We need to put aside. I mean, Jason, ghosts. Damian, I can't believe you're here."

"That's because your brain is underdeveloped."

Both Todds chuckled, the older telling Drake something Damian definitely did not say. Drake got back on topic, "So, ghosts. Like, are you hanging around for some reason? What do you think is keeping you here?"

Damian turned to older Todd. "Could you please tell Drake I did not get to speak with death when I died and therefore am just as much in the dark as him."

"He said he doesn't know," Todd paraphrased.

Tim nodded, "Guess if it was that simple Damian wouldn't be here." He paced a bit, "Wr gotta tell Dick. Bruce. Jason you should have said something."

"And be locked back up. No thank you. If you are going to be telling the big man about this count me out."

"Coward," Tim muttered, everyone present knowing Brucewasn't going to take this news well. "Fine," he still said, stalking out.

No one spoke for a while, mostly because they were waiting for the inevitable explosion, only slightly because Damian refused to have any more contact with Todd than possible. It didn't take long for the fireworks to start. The shouting started almost immediately followed by Grayson and Pennyworth hurrying into the library.

The obviously thought it was a joke since Grayson started with a sad, "Jay." Stopped from saying more as younger Todd handed a book over to him, taking another on his way back to read. "What the-?"

"Ghosts," Todd said.

"Ghosts," Grayson repeated. "Damian?"

"He's there."

Grayson slowly edged in. "If you're joking Jay. It's not funny."

"I wish I was."

Grayson looked around, "where? Damian? Where is he? Can he hear me?"

"He can, and he's there, sulking."

Grayson frowned, levelling Todd a look, "Why is he sulking?"

"Caught us this morning? Little demon didn't take it too well. Hence the..." he motioned to the books as Grayson slowly reddened.

"In bed?"

Pennyworth perked at that, Todd almost as red as Grayson now as he gave a pained moan and said, "No, but he knows about it now."

Younger Todd had to physically hold him down. He couldn't believe Todd had lied. Well, he could, but still.

He had just managed to escape and lift the nearest object to him, a globe they somehow needed, when Drake and Father entered. Father's eyes were red, his hands shaking as they clenched by his side. They stilled when they saw the globe, to them probably floating in mid air.

"Damian?"

He dropped the globe, scurrying over to latch himself on father's shirt. "I demand justice. Todd has defiled Grayson. He has taken him to bed, knowing Grayson was in a vulnerable state."

"For God's sake- It was consenting," Todd snapped.

"For you, however I will not allow you to use my death as a means to satisfy your libido."

"I wasn't satisfying anything. I love him you brat."

"You do?" Grayson cooed.

"What?" Father asked, finally taking charge instead of staring at where his shirt was clenched.

Todd and Grayson shrunk down, father's ever knowing eye most likely catching what was being unsaid. Damian prepared himself for some retribution.

But, like Drake, father thought the family drama came second as he reevaluated and looked down at Damian instead. "We'll talk later," he still promised. "Now, what exactly is this? Magic? Some trick?"

"I thought so too," Drake said. "But it's definitely Damian. He's been firing books at us in a tantrum for about half an hour now."

"Me you mean."

Father rocused on Todd, "I don't understand. You've been able to see him?" Todd nodded. "All of this time?"

Todd nodded again. "Don't start on the why didn't you tell me spiel. We both know you wouldn't have believed me."

Father exhaled shakily, looking down at where Damian was still touching him. Damian didn't want to let go, his hands flexing as his mind caught up with the fact he could really touch things again. "How long have you had this ability?"

Todd scuffed his foot, "Since I came back I guess."

"You guess?" Grayson asked.

Todd reddened, "It's not like there's a lot of ghosts for me to see. I thought I was going crazy okay?"

"So you can see them?"

"Hear him too," Drake piped in. "He's been the go between since I found out."

Father crouched slowly, his eyes never leaving Damian's hands that didn't let go of the shirt he was touching. He didn't know when he might get the chance to do this again. "Damian?" Father asked.

"It's me father." He looker back to Todd, "tell him I am here Todd."

"It's him."

"God, Damian." He was happy to say now he didn't like the sight of father crying. It wasn't a nice sight. Mostly because he set Grayson and Pennyworth off too. "I am so, so sorry. I should have-"

There was another pair of hands wrapping around father, younger Todd curling around like he usually did when father was upset. Unlike the other times however, father noticed the contact.

Wide eyes locked with Todd, "Who?"

Todd looked most uncomfortable as he said, "Me. Fifteen year old me. Turns out you might have been on to something when you said not all of me came back."

Father was horrified, Damian could see everyone freezing as they questioned and accepted the new ghost.

Grayson broke the silence, his fingers interlocking with Todds and causing Damian to hold back from attacking. "No wonder you thought you were going crazy."

A broken chuckle slid from Todd. Father wasn't listening, too transfixed by the pull in his shirt. Damian wondered if he could feel the arms around his neck, the head against his own. It must have been awful for Todd all these years not knowing. Yet he still did it when father wad upset.

"Is there-?" Farher asked, looking around the vacant room.

Todd shook his head, "Mini me says there's only him and Damian. Think he would know if there were more."

Fathers face fell slightly but he righted himself in an instant, looking to where the younger Todd was. "Hi."

Grayson turned to Todd, "what do they look like? Are they?"

Todd shook his head, "Both brats are fine. Nothing on them."

Grayson breathed in relief, Father relaxing somewhat too. They stood there for a while, most of them watching the phantom hands only Todd could see.

"Well this explains all those shattered tea cups," Pennyworth said, young Todd beaming.

Father called an emergency meeting in the cave when the shock wore off. Damian and Todd were both forced to hold papers with their names on, Drake's idiotic attempt to keep track of them. Damian didn't even stop Todd from switching their names around and noticed older Todd didn't call them out on it either.

It was a long night, reminiscent of a harrowing case that crept up every now and then. Father insisted there must be a reason for Damian's lingering just as Todd had. Through the night they came up with multiple causes for why this was and why only them were left behind when so many others had cause too.

Eventually it was Drake who came up with the common denominator. Todd had lingered until he came back. Perhaps Damian too was to follow this path.

The arguments ranged long and loud. Father did not want to think down that route. He didn't want to think of another traumatised son, Damian watching Todd throughout that rant as he edged closer to Grayson.

Eventually however, he had to concede to defeat. But only on his terms. Later, Damian would bear witness to plans for Apokalips, for a lararus incarnarion. Right then, father merely promised, "It's going to be fine," leaving Damian what would become of younger Todd should Damian leave.

4 Years Later:

"Father?" The door slammed behind him, Titus not far from licking him a hello. "You will be pleased to know I have whipped Jon into shape. He will be a credible superhero yet."

Damian made his way up to the study, knowing full well father was listening the whole time. Sure enough, when Damian poked his head in Father was waiting expectantly behind the desk, his eyes on Damian not the screen in front of him as Damian continued to inform him of their latest mission.

"How have things been here?"

A small smile graced father's face, his eyes on something behind Damian's head. "Good. Dick and Jason are coming around later however, so I want you on your best behaviour."

Damian tutted. He couldn't believe he was the last to know about their relationship. He couldn't believe they were dating at all. Grayson could do better. If he were honest however, what hurt more was the fact they waited until Damian was dead before they told everyone about their relationship. Like they didn't trust him.

Still, if Grayson was happy, "Very well. But if Todd starts a fight I will not be held responsible for my actions."

"Fair enough," father agreed.

Damian retreated to his room to wipe the gruel from the last few days away. Alfred joined him on the way, Damian tutting again before calling, "Father, we will need to go to the petstore again. Alfred has lost his collar."

This was the sixth time this month as well.

"You must learn to live with it. I will not have you be a stray," Damian said, stopping as bright colours crept in to the edge of his vision.

He turned, catching a fleeting glimpse of yellow.

Sometimes Damian could see why Todd disliked staying in the manor. It wasn't often, but on occassion, Damian swore he saw himself running about the manor, and once, just briefly, when he caught the visage outside, he saw another boy running alongside him.