Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Damian stared at the long hallway of various knickknacks and doohickeys. The ever-changing wallpaper was cracked and peeling, sticky with a green substance. Bizarrely shaped and decorated doors would occasionally peek out from the mountains of loot. The tables that lined the hallway were filled with books and books and many random objects. The hallway was illuminated with a combination of different things, candles and chandeliers and crackling TVs and lightbulbs lighting up the way. At the very end of the long hallway was a lone door, unmarked and conspicuous in its simplicity. 

He was almost there. 

Once he walked through that door, he would be able to complete his wish. 

Something to his side caught his eye. It was a small picture of a family, one with many unique characters. 

It reminded Damian of his own. 

It reminded him of his failures, his goals, and his desires. 

Wiping away the liquid that welled in his eyes, he turned and glared at the door that seemed more and more like the light in the darkness as well as his own personal demise. 

Damian grit his teeth and began to run. 

————

It all started simply. It was an average day, a normal afternoon as Damian bickered with his siblings as always. He and Timothy were rubbing on each other's nerves, only instigated further by Jason who would gleefully laugh every now and then whenever he sparked the dying fire. 

Dick sighed and said, "C'mon you two. Why can't you just get along?"

"It's  because Damian knows that Tim is better than him at detective work." Jason said. 

"Shut up, Todd!" Damian said as Timothy made a strange expression of both smugness and also exasperation. Despite knowing that Jason was deliberately goading them on, they still fell for it and walked right into another heated argument. 

Dick only sighed further as his little siblings argued like children. The door to the command room opened with Batman sweeping in, Stephanie following him with a little skip to her step. 

"Heya, everyone!" She greeted cheerfully while Batman flew past them to inspect the controls. 

All of them were in a spaceship commandeered by the batfamily in a mission to inspect a small alien planet that had recently pinged itself on their radar. It was a dangerous new colony that had an ability to steal the memories of those that they had killed and use it to conquer new planets. 

The batclan was currently in a mission to investigate if the rumors were true and to find any weaknesses. 

"Father?" Damian asked, as he noticed Batman's tense body language. "What is the matter?"

".... Orphan hasn't come back from her stealth mission."

A ripple of dread went through the room. Timothy immediately sat down on a seat and began to pull up mission records. They updated it regularly as they went, and Cassandra had logged in for her mission a few days ago, but now she was several hours past her expected return. This was a bad sign, especially since it was only a reconnaissance mission, with little to no conflict and even if there was, Cassandra would've contacted them.

Something had gone very, very wrong. 

Stephanie whispered, "No... she couldn't have been."

Jason gave a snort, although it was weak and filled with false bravado. "There's no way. She's probably trying to find some new information for us. She's stronger than that."

No one said anything. 

His attempt at gathering hope failed. 

"... fuck." Jason said quietly, as the worst of what could've happened finally sank its claws into his mind. 

Everyone was aware that this current mission was one with high stakes. The alien race they were investigating was a dangerous one, and unknown at that. Although they expected danger, they hadn’t expected one of their own to actually get hurt. 

Batman shook his head, a hand reaching out to clasp Jason's shoulder. "We'll find her and then we'll help her." He reassured him softly. It said a lot that Jason didn't shake off his touch. 

A stone sank in Damian's stomach. 

This was his first mission in outer space and he loathed how vulnerable he felt. In an effort to hide it, Damian scoffed to himself and straightened. 

They all lifted their heads in unison, however, when a crash rang through the ship. Their gut instincts had alerted them to the danger a second beforehand, but it was still too late. 

The light flickered off, inciting another gasp of panic. They all put on their masks to switch on their night vision. 

Batman immediately pulled out several batarangs and said, "Dick, with me! The rest of you, stay here and be careful. We'll investigate."

"Fuck!" Jason screamed, louder. "Why am I not coming?!"

"I need you to protect your siblings!" Batman said before he ran off with Dick in tow. 

"Grayson!" Damian couldn't help but yell. "Father, shouldn’t we stick together instead?!”

He couldn’t help the worry that stuck to his voice. 

Dick swerved back before he could leave the control room and immediately pulled Damian into a hug. "Little Bat," he said softly. "Stay here and protect Stephanie and Tim, okay? They need it."

Damian wanted to protest at his reassurances, almost indignant at the idea that he possibly needed comfort, but he didn’t say a word as Dick stroked his back. Timothy didn't speak up either, completely silent. Damian knew that he was also feeling some sense of immense dread, their survival instincts giving them a premonition of danger and death. 

Damian tried to hold his brother closer, eyes wide before Dick pulled away, pulling on a false smile. 

"Be careful!" He screamed and then he left. 

"This isn't good, this isn't good." Tim muttered as he furiously tapped on the keyboard to figure out what was going on. Everything was down, even their systems and now they just waited in the darkness for a signal of safety. 

Jason cursed under his breath. "I should've been with them!" He muttered. 

Damian pushed down his nausea and said, "Then let's go. With the computers down, there is no reason for us to stay here when we could go out and help them."

"Fuck, I'm going." Jason pulled out his guns and immediately began to load them with bullets. 

"Dammit." Tim cursed and Stephanie pulled out her own bo staff and looked determinedly at them. 

"Let's go." She said, and they all followed her as she left first. 

They ran through the halls to get to the sector where the explosion had supposedly started. The air seemed stale and dark, and a distant 'ooh'ing noise like wind going through a hole disturbed them greatly. Damian wished he had his swords, but all he had was a bo staff and a few batarangs to protect himself. 

His eyes searched the darkness. Stephanie and Timothy were next to each other, their shoulders almost bumping against each other's for comfort, while Jason trailed a little behind Damian, guns out and ready. Damian reassured himself that his family was safe. Cassandra was surely just fine and so would his father and Richard be. They would be okay. 

They would all be okay. 

There was another crash right in front of them and Stephanie screamed. Jason immediately shot into the dark, the bright flash of a gunshot illuminating the hall for a moment, showing just who came through the wall. 

A grotesque monster with bulging, writhing black tentacles stared at them before the light faded. Jason relentlessly shot his bullets, but they seemed useless. 

There was a short scuffle before a disturbing squelching noise. 

Timothy gave a long, loud keen before his body blocked Damian's vision. 

The last thing that Damian saw before Timothy was pulling him away was Stephanie's fallen body, a deep blackness covering her that would shine crimson red.

They ran. 

The moment Damian was able to reconnect with his thoughts and surroundings, he pulled his hand out of Timothy's and said, "Brown! She's still back there!"

"No!" Timothy snapped, his voice sounding wrecked. "We have to run. I saw her. She's not coming back."

Jason cursed violently and they quickly skidded into the next hall, shutting the sealed doors for a moment. 

"Fuck. It's them. They found Cassandra and took her memories." Jason said and Damian choked on his fear and shock. 

Timothy shuddered visibly and then said, "I think they got Stephanie too."

Damian grimaced, hurt shooting through his chest like a bullet wound before he gasped. 

"Father! And Richard! They—They went ahead of us!" It was almost instantaneous how both Jason and Timothy paled.

Jason smacked his hands over his eyes. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!"

He took out his helmet and quickly put it on. "I'm going out. Maybe I can find them. Bruce is smart, he's probably still alive and I'll find them."

"You're not invincible, Todd." Damian snarled. "Let us come with you. If we die, we'll all die together."

"Like hell we will." Jason said curtly. "You little shits are gonna live because if another Robin dies, I'm...." He paused. He didn't know what to say. 

None of them could find the words needed to comfort each other. 

Damian's stomach dropped further into his feet, as if he was about to be sick. 

Timothy reached out and grabbed onto Jason's sleeve. "Jason. You know it's a suicide mission. You can't go."

Jason reloaded his bullets and didn't say anything. 

When he turned, Jason's helmet was still on his face as he stared at both Tim and Damian. Then he reached over to put a gloved hand on their heads and said, his voice crackling softly, "I gotta go, Robins. Protect each other. Be safe. I mean it."

His touch was heavy and warm, even through his glove. Damian stared at his akhi with wide, wet eyes. 

Timothy screamed in shock and despair as Jason sealed that exit and then ran off. They heard the distant sounds of gunshots before they faded. 

Timothy gasped for breath, tears flowing down his face but he quickly wiped them and then pulled on Damian's arms. "C'mon, Robin. It's up to us now. We have to get to the exit bay and hope that everyone else gets through this alive and back home."

No one voiced the fact that it would be near impossible. 

As they ran, Timothy was furiously typing on his communicator. When they reached the ship bay, where extra spacecrafts were stationed and ready to fly, they found it blissfully empty. 

Already suspicious, they snuck inside. Damian was almost irritated by the small gasps that left Timothy's throat but he understood, with the grief that seemed to eat through his stomach. After a moment, as they inched towards a spacecraft, Damian reached out to hold Timothy's hand and squeezed gently. 

Timothy squeezed back and they both sped up to the spacecraft. They both worked together to open it up and get it ready for space travel when there was a distant roar. 

Damian shuddered hard, goosebumps rising over his skin as he worked even faster, flicking on buttons and readying the controls and coordinates. 

Timothy cursed and said, "Dammit. I can't message Earth."

Damian bit into his lip. 

Nothing was going well. Where were their family?

Timothy handed Damian the communicator. For a moment, Damian just stared at it in confusion before he turned to Timothy with questioning eyes, his heart squeezing in his chest. 

What was the meaning of this? Was Timothy possibly handing off their last chance of survival to him? For what reason?

"What is this for?" Damian snapped. 

"Just hold it," Timothy said exhaustedly. "I need to go out and see if the exterior of the pod is functional for space travel. You stay here and stay inside while I go check outside."

"No! What if something happens and I am unable to stop it?" Damian said, his foot stomping once on the ground to emphasize his point. 

Timothy didn't say anything as he started to walk down the ramp to the ground outside of the ship. Damian rushed forward to grab his hand and pull him back. 

"Why must everyone sacrifice their lives?!" Damian shouted. "You don't need to do this! Let's just stick together!"

"Just shut up, Damian!"

"No! Let's leave now! I-I want to leave now!"

Timothy turned to him with a furious expression but whatever was on Damian's face made him pause. Then he pursed his lips together before pulling Damian in close. 

They had never hugged before. 

The closest they had ever been was whenever Damian lunged forward for a knife to Timothy's gut. 

But this... this wasn't so bad. Damian's eyes burned with an urge to cry and he grabbed onto his brother's suit. 

"We will be okay, Damian." 

And just as he said that, he pushed Damian forward and through the aircraft as the aliens finally revealed themselves as well as the tentacle that now wiggled into Timothy's stomach. 

It happened in an instant. 

Damian couldn't even react as Timothy was impaled through his torso. 

Blood spilled on the floor and through Timothy's mouth. Timothy coughed, more blood dripping down his chin. He inched forward as the tentacles seemed to pull him back. It was a slow thing, as Damian watched in frozen horror as Timothy moved towards him. 

"Timothy!" He couldn't help but blurt it out. "You're going to be ripped in half, you imbecile!"

He took out a batarang, already formulating a plan to hopefully cut away the tentacle but then Timothy reached into his side pouch and took the access card out, slotting it into the card reader and smiling reassuringly at Damian as blood dripped from his lips and body. 

"You'll be okay." He croaked, before a black blur shot out and impaled his skull, blood splattering over the doors as they quickly shut themselves. 

The aircraft began to lift itself from the ground automatically as Damian screamed with rage and grief, his fist smacking into the door as he flew away. The last thing he saw before he sped off into space and back to earth was Timothy's limp body being dragged backwards. 

Damian sank to his knees and didn't get up for a long time. 

When he arrived back to Earth, it was useless. 

Because Gotham was now gone. 

————

Damian opened the door. 

Inside was a wide, circular room with marble walls and floors. The ceiling was tall, and windows covered it, letting in golden light that lit up the room with an ethereal glow. In the middle of the room was a pool of water surrounding a tall tree on a little island. 

Damian couldn't help the gulp of air that he took, rejuvenating him with a refreshing lightness like he was breathing in sunlight. 

"Ah." A voice gasped softly. Damian whipped his head upwards and stared at a figure floating within the tree branches. "Hello."

This person wore white and black, their clothes all flowing around them. On their face was a deer skull, its horns stretching behind them as their white hair, strangely similar to Jason's unique white coloring, floated gently. 

"Are you the God from the legends?" Damian asked, his voice sounding braver than he felt as the pressure of this being encased him. 

"The legends? I suppose so. Do you have a wish, Damian al Ghul-Wayne?"

Damian flinched before his gaze hardened. "Yes. I would like to make a deal with you."

"I see." The god jumped off of the tree branch and floated in front of him. The air felt colder as they drifted closer to Damian. "What is your wish?"

"I want my family to live again."

The being paused. They tilted their head and then said, "Your family?"

"Yes." Damian paused and then clarified, "I want my entire family to be alive again. My father, all of my brothers, my sisters, my grandfather, and my extended family within Gotham."

"... a very big ask." The god murmured. 

A chill rose within Damian and he said urgently, worried that his wish wouldn't be granted, "I am willing to do whatever it takes to have my wish granted. I can kill whoever you ask, I can offer my own body...! Anything, as long as my family is alive again."

The god tilted their head the other way. Then they said, "I see. Name your family."

Damian's breath hitched but before he did, he asked, "Will my wish be granted?"

"Yes."

Damian thrilled at that, before he paused. Then he asked carefully, "What is the price?"

The god turned to look at him. Their empty eye sockets, filled with a faint green glow, seemed to bore holes into his soul. "The price of the revival of your family is to sacrifice your life and eternity to me. You will offer your life, your death, and your eternity to me, for me to do whatever I wish."

Damian's breath stuttered. He paused, heart pounding as he debated with himself. 

But who was he kidding?

There was no such question in the first place. Damian was not worth even an toe from his family. He wasn't even worth enough to even gaze upon their shoes. 

Damian nodded firmly. "I agree to your deal. If I offer everything that I am to you, you will agree to revive my family as they once were?"

"They will be revived and reverted back to a time when they were once alive. They will be well and healthy, I assure you. With this deal, I can promise that they will live to old age."

Damian beamed. "Deal. My family's names are Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, and Timothy Drake."

The god seemed to give off an air of satisfaction. "Then, for the soul, eternity, and life and death of Damian al Ghul-Wayne, the aforementioned people will be revived and brought back to life."

They clapped their hands. "It's been done."

Damian couldn't tell if they were lying or not. Still, Damian was overjoyed at this piece of news. "Then... may I go see them?"

The god floated a bit in front of him. "No. You'll stay here, with me."

Damian paused, his stomach dropping and he wanted to smack himself for hoping. "I see. What will you have me do?"

Would they make Damian kill for them? Be a slave? Use his body? Would he have to sacrifice his body parts for them? Kidnap people? The possibilities were endless and although it made a bitter, sour taste go through his mouth, Damian did not dare complain. 

The god seemed to be smiling as a broom appeared into existence in their hands. They handed it to Damian who grabbed it unsurely. 

"Clean up."

————

And that was the beginning of how Damian became a servant of a lone God.

Chapter Text

Damian woke up from a deep sleep without dreaming. 

He hadn't been doing that lately. 

Dreaming, that is. His sleep was always deep and still nowadays. It almost felt dangerous to sleep. 

A small part of him wondered what would happen if he fell asleep and never woke up again. 

Would he meet his family?

He shoved that thought of his mind as he climbed out of the large bed he had slept in. His family was already back. And his life was now bound in servitude to a god. 

Damian washed his face, using water to gel his hair back, ignoring the multitudes of products that were kept on the bathroom counter. He wondered if these were meant to be his, but since he now belonged to a god, he did not dare use them at all. He then proceeded to put on his clothes, which all looked like tunics from the medieval ages. If Damian had been with his siblings, he'd have complained, but in this place, he just kept his mouth shut. 

He did not know what would offend his new patron or not. 

Damian left his room and nearly jumped out of his skin when the first thing he saw was a face on the floor.

A half melted, made-of-the-floor face stared at him drearily, its mouth tilted in a frown as it stared at him through its slitted eyes. 

Damian nearly started to curse when the god he served gently floated through the hall, startling him and said, "That's Geoffrey. Don't mind him, he'll disappear in a bit. Just don't step on him and he won't harm you."

Damian controlled his breathing and his expression before he turned to bow at the god. "Many thanks, my lord." 

The god was silent. Then they said, "Please, call me Phantom." There was another pause and then they said, "And my pronouns are he/him."

Damian blinked rapidly. He had not expected that. Perhaps it should have been expected, but he had not thought something as progressive and modern as introducing pronouns would come from a god. Damian bowed again and did not say a word. 

Phantom floated in place and he said, "For your first day here, I want you to clean up this hallway. I will make a list of the tasks I expect you to complete for the day as well as my expectations of your duties here and you can have the rest of the time to yourself. You do not have to work quickly, but I do expect my tasks to be finished by the end of the day. If there is any problem, do not be afraid to tell me. I will also send a list of instructions for handling the things in this world."

Damian didn't let his expression change, although his stomach dropped. He wondered if he would be hurt. But it did not matter. He would do this for his siblings, his father, and his family. It did not matter what he thought, as long as Phantom kept his end of the deal. 

He nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Like I said, call me Phantom. Your instructions will be sent to you shortly."

Then he blipped out of existence. Damian jumped at the sudden disappearance before he frowned. He wiped away the expression on his face quickly and went back to his room to grab the broom he had been given the day before. He swept the floors outside of his room, avoiding eye contact with "Geoffrey", who hadn't looked away once. 

There was a faint humming noise and Damian turned his head upwards as a little round creature with beady black eyes floated towards him, seemingly made of green goop. It cooed audibly and bounced in the air, before it stopped in front of him and spat out a piece of paper in his hands, as well as a large packet, from its stomach. The size of the contents contrasted with its tiny size. 

Damian grimaced and turned to the little blob thing that was already floating away. 

"Thank you,” he called, but the blob did not stop.

Damian stared at its fading back before he looked down at the papers and began to flip through them. 

Duties of the day: 

1. Sweep the floors

2. Catalogue the objects in room 1 and 2

Expectations:

1. Get things done

2. Do not disturb the creatures housed here unless necessary 

3. Do not get yourself hurt

4. Make sure everything is kept in order

Damian blinked at the short list and then looked towards the packet. He immediately searched for information on "Geoffrey", or whatever Phantom called it. 

Face on the Ground (Geoffrey)

Location: Should be in Room 89

Description: a 25x12cm face that looks like a tragedy mask that will appear on the floor and is made of the same material as the surface he appears on

Information: harmless, until provoked; will immediately kill whoever steps on him; will stare; can teleport; will sometimes purposefully teleport underneath a person's feet, but can be warded off with mint

Damian frowned at the information, purposefully not looking back at the face. He flipped through it and saw a map of the place they were in. 

It was big and convoluted, with twisting hallways and random empty circles to signal rooms with little labels inside to name them. There were multiple floors and over a thousand of Rooms. Some places were color coded to show that they had things inside. In the middle of the map was a hexagon, labeled 'Phantom's Throne Room'. 

Damian frowned again, especially as he saw the ink beginning to move, changing its course as it tracked the moving hallways. No wonder he had heard creaking. It was the place moving around. 

He pocketed the papers and clenched his fists, taking a deep breath. 

When Damian had first gotten home from the harrowing journey within space, Gotham had been blown up with the aliens' stolen information from Batman and his family. The aliens had used the memories they had taken to cause chaos, wiping out Gotham while Damian was traveling back to Earth in the little pod, before they had been dealt with. 

It was only thanks to help from Superman and Wonder Woman that they had been defeated before further damage could be done, but it was still far too late. 

Gotham City had been erased off of the Earth, and Damian's family had perished in a useless struggle. The bodies that had been retrieved from the ship had been smears of blood and gore. Damian had only lingered long enough to sear his family's remains into his eyes before he left, not even bothering to attend their funerals. 

When the League of Assassins came to collect Damian, he had already disappeared. He scoured through magical libraries and legends for any hint of a way for him to revive his family. He had tricked, blackmailed, bribed, and bargained with anyone who could help him. 

Damian was selfish. It was why he was not fit to be a hero while his family was dead. He didn't care for Gotham that much. He didn't care for anyone else but his family. 

Damian didn't deserve to live. 

Not when his life meant the cost of the Batclan. 

No matter how much Damian voiced his distaste for them, how much he said he loathed them all, and that he was superior to them, he knew the truth. 

They were better people than him. Unlike him, they had never wrongfully taken the lives of anyone, because even Jason had good reasons, unlike Damian who was like a trained dog. They were kinder, stronger, smarter. They were good, while he was bad. He had been born in the shadows, and he should've stayed there. His existence had been what prevented the rest of his siblings and family to survive. 

It was his fault. So it was only right that he sacrificed himself for them to live again. 

That was why he was currently in another world, serving an otherworldly being. 

Damian shuddered again, before he took a deep breath and straightened his back. He clutched the broom in his hands and thought of Stephanie's strength. 

As long as they were saved, he didn't care what would happen to him. 

————

Damian was currently in Room 1. The room was brightly lit and ordinary, smelling of dust and lavender. 

He stared at an old onnamen mask, slightly disturbed with how the eyes seemed to stare at him. Damian held a "borrowed" pencil in one hand and quickly wrote down 'onnamen mask'. He flipped through the packet and saw the little information about it. 

Onnamen Mask

Location: Should be in Room 1

Description: a 15x10cm white cypress mask of a young Japanese woman with blackened upper teeth between smiling red lips, rectangular black pupils, high-set eyebrows, and parted black hair

Information: friendly; will not be disturbed with light touching, but she will prefer it if you are gentlemanly and handsome; conversation is encouraged; putting her on will not negatively affect you, although possession may occur.

Damian nodded to himself and looked up with a small, careful smile. "Hello, miss." He spoke in Japanese clearly. "May I please move you to a better spot so I can have an easier time cataloging the objects in this room?"  

The mask did not move, but a giggle poured out of her lips. The mask squealed softly and said with a feminine voice, "You're such a cutie. What good Japanese! Of course, you may move me."

Damian smiled and bowed a little before picking her up from her spot on top of a wooden cabinet onto another spot. He thanked her again and moved on. 

Large goldfish swam in circles above him, occasionally casting shadows upon him. Damian counted each fish, writing short descriptions of colors, and continued. He spotted a few dolls on top of a wardrobe and looked through the packet after cataloging the wardrobe. 

Red Wooden Wardrobe

Location: Should be in Room 1

Description: a 208x96x96cm cherry wood wardrobe with a lower drawer and two armoire doors, and gold claw poster feet

Information: ordinary; has creaky doors

Cotton Dolls

Location: Should be in Room 15

Description: a group of four 20cm dolls made of cotton, dressed in prairie dresses with curled cotton hair, in various colors

Information: mischievous but friendly; can be handled, but will stab the handler with a needle if bothered; conversation is not encouraged, unless conversation consists of drama and excitement; can teleport; will play pranks

WARNING: THEY MUST BE KEPT TOGETHER

Damian blinked at the information before he looked at the dolls on the wardrobe again. Their stitched lips seemed to be showing a mocking smile. Damian looked back down at the information and then up at the dolls again. 

He channeled his inner kindness and was reminded of Jason's gentleness when faced with children. If anyone else was here, they would’ve done a far better job than Damian. 

"If I tell you a story, will you behave and go back to your room, in Room 15?" 

The moment he finished his sentence, they burst to life. 

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" The dolls cheered, their voices sounding like young girls would. The dolls immediately jumped up and down, clapping their cotton hands together. They nodded rapidly and jumped down, where Damian had his arms out and waiting. 

"Alright. I'm going to tell you a story about a real person that I know. Let's name him... Richard." Damian had fun telling them about Dick's sexcapades. It was especially fun when he got to Barbara, Dick, and Kory's drama together and all four dolls gasped exaggeratedly at all of the good parts. 

When he finished, they complained and patted his face for more with their little pads for hands, but with Damian's stern gaze, they wilted and relented. All four of them left for Room 15, and Damian nodded, satisfied. 

He felt proud of himself. 

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all?

Damian continued onward, writing down everything that he saw and making sure that they were all where they needed to be. There were a few miscellaneous objects that couldn't be found, such as the muddy footprints, which Damian looked everywhere for, but everything else was in order. 

Damian paused and looked up towards the ceiling. The goldfish still swam in lazy circles, never stopping. The ceiling had a large window on top, which held nothing but light coming from a clear blue sky that hadn't changed at all. The sunbeams highlighted every dust particle and Damian quieted himself as he simply floated in the moment, still anxious, but breathing. 

It had been 16 hours in this room since Damian had come here. He had been awake for almost 18 hours. 

How was this possible?

Damian's life was a carefully laid out schedule. It was the only reason why he, a 12 year old boy, was able to handle so much in his life. He woke up at 7AM, went to sleep at 3 in the morning, with various 30-minute naps around the day to sustain him until night fell and it was time for him to patrol. 

So Damian knew that he had slept a full seven hours last night, and from the moment he woke up, he had been mentally counting the seconds that passed since he was awake. 

It was absurd to think about, but why did he not feel tired or hungry? 

Damian frowned at his body, uncomfortable with the thought of not being hungry or tired. Was it because of the unique space he was in? Or was it because something here made his body unable to recognize its own signals for help? 

Damian, unsure of himself, turned and then went to follow the map to Room 2. 

The hallway leading to the next room was one that was blissfully free of things laying around, but the ceiling was covered with flowers and vines and butterflies. Each plant was lush and dark green, blooming in the slight darkness of the hallways to offer a splash of cheerful color. Something about how they looked so well taken care of made Damian's heart clench. They looked loved and cherished. 

He couldn't imagine Phantom planting them though. 

He missed Titus and Alfred the cat and his gardens now, he realized.

He missed his family. 

Room 2 was just as crowded as Room 1 was. It was a large circular room with various objects, furniture, and playthings scattered all around. It too, was brightly lit, except it smelled of dirt and buttered popcorn.

Damian picked up his papers and sighed, shaking his pen a little to make the ink work. 

He would complete this too, and hopefully, he would get some answers at the end. 

Once again, he went through the same process. He would find another object, search for it in the packet of information, make sure it was all fine and dandy, and if necessary, move the object to another location where it was meant to be or if it made it easier for him to count. Each room that he saw was always different and unique. The thousands of rooms within Phantom’s castle was undoubtedly haunting. 

Occasionally, Damian would find something dangerous, but thankfully, the packet was enough help for him. 

Whoever made it was very meticulous. Without them, Damian would’ve probably still been floundering. 

Or dead. 

Damian spotted a mirror on the side of the wall. It sat oddly on the curved wall, but it was small enough that it could be picked up and held in two hands. 

He searched for it in the packet.

Scrying Mirror

Location: Should be in Room 2 

Description: a 16x8cm round mirror with an ornate frame made of silver made of cherub angels, roses, and clouds 

Information: harmless; it is possible to see things from another world if the viewer wishes for it

Damian's eyes widened. 

Was it... possible?

Damian almost couldn't stop himself from looking around, as if waiting to see if Phantom would burst out of nowhere to stop him. 

With bated breath, Damian took the mirror in his hands and stared into its smooth, reflective surface. Even his expression showed the desperation on his face. 

Would he be able to see his family?

Damian gulped. Then he whispered, almost afraid to voice it out loud, "Can I see my family?"

There was a pause, and then his reflection began to change, swirling and swirling into colors as Damian gasped.

And then, right before his eyes, he saw his family. 

There was Tim, Jason, Stephanie, Cassandra, Richard, Alfred, his father, there was even his pets and Barbara there, all of them sitting at the dinner table and contentedly having a family dinner. 

There was no extra seat at the table, and it stung. 

Damian, however, could easily ignore the hurt and he smiled at the sight of them, all together and alive and whole. 

They looked... happy. There was a sense of tranquility that seemed to pervade the air around them, and as Damian observed them, he read their lips, greedy for any information on them. 

'So, Jason, how was patrol?' Father asked.

'Fuck off, old man,' Jason said with a frown on his face. 

'None of that now,' Richard said. 'It's dinner, so no cursing.'

'Yeah, shut up and enjoy Alfred's food.' Stephanie said, though Damian struggled to read her lips properly because her mouth was full.

'Chew your food, heathen!' Timothy said, though his words were covered as he laughed at the end of his sentence. 

Damian practically melted at the sight, heart both full and bursting, despite being littered with holes. 

He missed them. 

So much. 

He watched them for a few more minutes and observed their rosy cheeks and bright eyes full of life. They never mentioned him once. Although Titus and Alfred the cat was there, it seemed as though he was the only one that had been forgotten. 

Was that the price for their revival? 

His everything? His existence itself?

.... If the rest of his existence was spent here, cataloguing random things in a room with only himself and the talkative objects he found, rearranging furniture and decorations, and cleaning the place, then didn't it seem like an unfair trade? 

It was almost too good of a deal. 

Damian watched them a little longer, just enjoying the sight of them living and being together before he finally sighed and pulled away from the mirror, his hands slowly putting it away. The moment his touch left the mirror, the images of his family disappeared. 

His heart ached but he smiled, nonetheless. 

Now, he knew that his work was worth it. 

Whatever Phantom made him do, it would be worth it as long as his family was alive and well. 

————

When Damian finished organizing Room 2, he followed the map back to his room, where he saw muddy tracks all over the floor. Damian paused at the sight, before flipping through the packet. 

Mud Footprints

Location: Should be in Room 2, but prone to move

Description: disembodied mud shaped as a pair of size 7 footprints

Information: harmless; likely to move into open space; will leave behind muddy footprints, but can be cleaned; can only be contained in a shut room but cannot be steered in any direction 

Damian was about to go search for a mop when a faint glow appeared at the end of the hallway. Damian froze in place, wide eyed as Phantom floated through the hallway towards him. His head tilted towards the ground where the muddy footprints walked aimlessly and he chuckled. 

"I see you found the muddy footprints. Have you finished organizing Rooms 1 and 2?"

"Yes, s—... Yes, Phantom." He changed his form of address awkwardly. He presented the paper that he had written on. "This is the paper that catalogued everything I saw."

"That's great, thanks." Phantom's voice was calm, if a little more spirited than usual. He took the paper, before pushing it into his belly, where it phased through. 

Damian eyed his stomach but didn't say anything. 

He would not question godly logic. 

Phantom floated for a moment, before he presented a necklace to Damian. "Here, if you're in any danger, this will send an alert to me, and I can track your location to come get you. If you want to send me a message, rub the gem and it'll allow me to see out of it. Otherwise, if your heart rate spikes abnormally, I can find your location."

Damian gingerly took the necklace, staring at the emerald that glistened on the necklace made of silver twine. The gem radiated coldness, and although Damian was vaguely uncomfortable with the thought of having an invasive and unknown object around his neck, the thought of his family being hale and healthy calmed him down quickly. 

He slid on the necklace and bowed his head. "Thank you."

Phantom didn't respond to the thanks, but he said, "By the way. Dinner will be given at the end of the day. A day here would be counted with 30 hours in the real world. In a space like this, you won't grow hungry, but it's still better to eat and sleep for mental health purposes. So come." He turned and floated away. 

Damian called out, "Wait!"

Phantom stopped and turned, his deer's skull hiding any expression Damian wanted to see. Damian continued, "I still need to clean up the footprints."

Phantom was still. Then he waved his hand and the marks evaporated with little green sparkles. Damian stared at it with wide eyes before Phantom said, "Come. I will bring you dinner."

Damian nodded and followed without another word. He was lead down a few hallways, before ending up at a doorless entrance. Inside, was a cafeteria-esque looking room, with a several long tables and windows that once again, showed nothing but open sky and clouds above any land. The cafeteria was eerily empty, and dusty as well, although it was brightly lit. 

It looked abandoned, but oddly welcoming. 

Damian was led to the back of the room, where an empty serving area stood. There was a school lunch tray full of food. Phantom swam around it a bit, and said, "Here you go. Rice, braised tofu, greens, and tomato soup. There's a donut on the side too."

Damian stared at his miscellaneous lunch, but honestly couldn't even complain because it all looked and smelled delicious. 

"Did you... make this?"

Phantom nodded, the air around him giving off a sense of 'happiness'. 

"Enjoy," He said, before he began to drift off and away. 

"Wait!" Damian called out. 

Phantom halted in place, and then turned. "Yes?"

"... thank you for the food. I hope to meet your expectations in the future." He hoped that by swallowing his pride, his life would remain as easy as this. 

Phantom laughed softly. "You've already succeeded them."

Before Damian could respond, he moved away to disappear again. This time, Damian could watch him fly into a wall and disappear with a ripple within the walls.

Damian stared at where he gone. 

"Huh."

As Damian later went to bed, he could only think about the food that he had been given. It was surprisingly delicious. 

————

After that, Phantom seemed to visit him a little more. It wasn't very noticeable, but now it seemed like Phantom made an effort to check up on him every few days. For the most part, Damian was left to his own devices, much to his pleasure. 

The place he stayed in was beautiful, but chaotic.

There was no other words to describe the mess that littered its rooms and sometimes its halls, but still gave the place a sense of mystery and liveliness. 

Damian would go into Rooms and almost get lost as he tried to organize it.

And he loved it. 

Everything was new and magical, sometimes literally, and although there were dangerous things lying around, the packet that Damian kept with him helped him get away from any trouble he encountered before Phantom had to intervene. He only wished his family could've been there to see these things too. He was sure that they would all enjoy the mystery and the peaceful scenery, as well as the exciting antiques and objects. 

Long, long days passed without much stress. Damian cleaned and organized the place, and he found solace in the fact that Phantom was kind and his family was alive and well. 

When the loneliness became too much, Damian would go back to Room 2 to pick up the mirror and watch his family a little more. 

Things remained the same, and although it wasn't all good since Jason seemed even more angry than ever and Richard would sometimes ghost his family members and Timothy would be found passed out from exhaustion more often than awake and Cassandra would leave home for long periods of time and Stephanie would go off on her own without any input or help and his father would snap at everyone else, Damian was still glad that they were alive. 

(Sometimes, he felt like they weren't as happy as they seemed to him in the mirror, but he assumed it was perhaps just their personalities not meshing well as always.)

Even if their sharp edges rubbed on each other, they still had each other. 

Damian was lonely, yes, but he was content. 

He still existed. He slept fine, he ate well, and Phantom took care of him. He was beginning to use the various bottles that were kept in his bathroom and he was finally starting to relax as time went on. Sometimes, the list of duties for the day that Damian had was short and nonsensical, allowing him to take a break and investigate the place he stayed in on his own. 

Like now. 

The only thing on Damian's list of duties for the day was just to feed the koi fish inside of Room 72. The room, instead of being a storage space, was a large garden with a koi fish pond contained by glass walls that showed nothing but cloudy skies without ground. Inside the garden were bridges that spanned over large lily-infested ponds and small rivers. It was a beautiful space of nature, and Damian loved the smell of fresh grass and soil and the sound of running water. 

Sometimes, the koi fish would nip at his fingers when he dipped his hand into the ponds. Whenever he watered the plants, it reminded him of Alfred. 

Damian finished scattering the last of the fish food and washed his hand within the crystalline waters of the pond. The koi fish swam around busily, sucking in food and Damian smiled at another job well done. 

If he was home, Dick probably would've noisily praised him. 

(Damian would always say that he found it irritating and patronizing, but now completely alone, Damian admitted to himself that he missed it.)

He shook off his thoughts and continued off with the rest of the day to himself. 

He walked through the garden path, a small cobblestone path that had been long overtaken by plants and left Room 7. When he ended back up in the hallway, he sighed softly as the air grew still again, as if time was frozen. Damian walked down the hallway, eyes moving from side to side as he observed everything around him. 

Doors lined the walls and while most lead to Rooms, some lead to dark emptiness. A few lead to other corridors, each as strange and eerie as the rest. 

Even though Damian had told himself that he would search the place for clues and mysteries to solve, his feet still lead him right back to Room 2, where the mirror stayed mounted on the wall, never moving. 

Damian stared at it longingly, before he finally reached out to grab it. 

But as always, he was careless. The moment his fingers touched the mirror, something threw him across the floor. Damian barely managed to twist his body to land on his feet as he spluttered. His elbow bumped into a large object when he tried to right himself, his side aching with pain. 

The jack-in-the-box popped free of its box and screeched, making Damian flinch hard. 

With that scream, the sentient objects within the room began to awaken like it was an alarm, malevolent and benevolent and innocuous things alike all waking up. 

Damian stared at the scene in horror before turning his eyes to the thing that made a move against him. 

A large, shadowy bear shook its fur. Its eyes were like rubies, and its fur looked like obsidian spikes. It growled and then moved towards Damian. 

Damian's hand went straight to his belt, but he was only met with air. Looking down at his barren and weaponless self, he cursed violently. His senses shifted and he dodged another blow. The bear roared fiercely, before it pounced, chasing after him. 

He thought of what Timothy would do and he moved.

Damian immediately spun on his heel and jumped towards it the moment the bear lunged towards him, a hand smacking into its head to allow him to propel himself behind it and away. He observed that its body felt made of glass and Damian immediately apologized towards the possessed TV that he bumped into, which crackled with various shifting scenes of TV reports all narrating, "Reporting emergency!!" in various languages. 

Just where on earth had this thing come from?

He hadn't read anything like this in the packet before. 

Damian leapt onto a chair just as the bear clawed the floor, creating deep rivulets. Damian's eyes widened as the bear growled again, its ruby eyes tracking him acutely as Damian dodged and weaved within the furniture. There were a few paintings that screamed at him to run and call for help, but Damian ignored them as he ran towards the only weapon he was aware of in the room. 

It was a machine gun, one with a sentient voice of a young boy and capable of shooting bullets that could cut through anything if the user wished it to, examples being brick, concrete, air, and even emotions. Damian had carefully put it away after the gun had asked him to put him inside a cabinet with another sentient tea-set so they could hang, but now he would have to pull him out.

Damian could not run out of the room. The things here were sentient, and if he ran, what if this mysterious bear destroyed everything? 

No, he needed to deal with it here. 

Damian spotted the glass cabinet, where a gun and a teapot laid together, and Damian unceremoniously tore open the door to grab the gun. The gun's alarmed voice rang through Damian's head the moment his hands wrapped around the trigger. 

'H-Huh?! Wait! What's going on!?'

"I apologize deeply," Damian said, his voice stuttering as he took a deep breath in order to continue running away from the bear. "But I require your help. Something is attacking me right now and I need a weapon. Can you shoot that thing?"

'Point me towards it!' The boyish voice said. 

Damian did so, doing a flip to dodge another swing of the bear's claws. 

'Whoa! You're so cool!' The gun gushed. Damian would've preened if he wasn't so predisposed with the attacking animal. 

"Can you shoot it?!" Damian shouted as the bear roared again, standing on its hind legs to tower over the furniture and keep track of Damian's fleeing presence. 

'Yes!' The gun cheered and Damian pulled the trigger, immediately blasting the bear down. 

However, the bullets only ricocheted off of the bear's glassy fur. Damian's eyes widened in horror before he rolled back as another paw swiped at the spot he had been in. Damian scrambled onto his feet and continued running. 

He turned sharply and sent off a few more bullets. They didn't do obvious damage, but the bear looked even more enraged, lifting its head to the sky and screaming its rage. It swung its paw and furniture and objects were cut in half. 

Damian continued to run away, clenching his teeth at the destroyed things in the room. He hadn't realized that by running, he was only causing more damage. 

Damian's breath caught in his throat, but he continued to run. 

'Oh no.' The gun said mournfully. 'I hope that Henry is okay.'

Damian assumed that Henry was the tea-set and he continued to run. 

Once again, he found a moment of rest away from the bear to recollect his breath and carefully check over himself. All he had on his person was his papers, his stolen pen, and....

The necklace. 

Damian grabbed it, clutching it tightly. He rubbed the gem and prayed that Phantom would hurry up to get him. 

There was a low growl to his side. 

Damian turned, stiffening as the jeweled bear stood over him, its eyes glistening menacingly. 

Damian raised his hands to protect his face and the gun, who was shaking in crazy concern. 

Without warning, there was a bang!

The gun gasped in Damian's head. 'Phantom is here! Lord Phantom is here to save us!'

Damian raised his head and lowered his hands, eyes wide. 

Phantom was floating high in the air, his hands glowing with green energy. He blasted the bear with the energy that swirled around him and swooped at him with more plasmic attacks. 

Damian watched him with wide eyes as the gun continued to cheer and squeal excitedly. Damian slinked closer, mind racing as thoughts quickly passed through. 

Phantom was powerful. Had some sort of ice ability, guessing by the frost that cling to Damian's eyelashes. Extremely fast. Could turn intangible. Didn't seem to be bothered much by the bear, so possibly more powerful than he seemed. 

Phantom made quick work of the bear, breaking it into pieces, before he huffed and dusted off his hands. He turned, his bone mask glinting in the light. 

"Ah, is that Ben?" Phantom asked, gesturing to the gun. 

Damian pursed his lips, insides curdling as he realized that Phantom now knew that he had been messing around with the things within the room. Damian nodded slowly. "Y-Yes. I... I thought that he could help me with the bear."

"Hmm. It was smart of you to try and use him." Damian tried to suppress the bloom of pride in his chest. "Ben can do a lot, but he's still young. He doesn't have the power needed yet to cut through the Mana Stone Bear." Phantom reached out and Damian handed him the gun. Phantom brushed his hands over the metal of Ben's exterior, and spoke to him, "It's alright, Ben. You tried your best. You did well in protecting Damian. Where would you like to go?"

Phantom paused within the air as the gun spoke to him. "Ah, I see. Henry, hm?"

Phantom floated away a little bit and then waved his hand. A large, holographic clock appeared over the room, glowing gold and raining flecks of gold over them. Damian's jaw dropped as the destruction within the room began to reverse slowly. 

Was this the power of a God?

Damian turned back to Phantom, whose calm disposition was only emphasized further by his expressionless skull mask. Phantom went to put Ben into the glass cabinet and next to the tea-set. Then he turned to Damian, making him gulp. 

"Thank you for trying your best. But next time, just call for me first."

Damian clenched his fists. 

Once again, he had been weak. 

"Yes. I'm sorry for the destruction I've caused."

"It's fine. It's technically my fault anyways, I should've realized that the Mana Stone Bear found its way here."

They both went silent. Damian tried not to move a muscle as they just avoided each other's gazes. Then Phantom asked slowly, "Would you like to have your own weapon?"

Damian's eyes snapped to him, wide. "I can?"

Phantom nodded. "Come. I'll get you a weapon."

Giddy, Damian nodded. Perhaps with a weapon, he wouldn't be as weak. Damian bowed deeply. "Thank you."

"It's no problem, really. I've been getting reports of your work." From what?! "You've done well." Phantom said, and he lead Damian through a shortcut through Room 14, where a staircase lead them upwards to Floor 5 and then into Room 847. Damian tried to ignore the unsettling feeling of possibly being watched (although he had no idea how, unless it was from the necklace) and looked around the room. 

Inside, was an armory, where weapons from all sorts of places and timelines sat. Half of the weapons were ones that Damian couldn't recognize. They all lined the walls in neat rows with glittering lights and glass walls. 

Phantom floated inside and immediately started searching for something specific, while Damian trailed behind him in an attempt to be respectful and avoided looking at the other weapons, despite how interesting they were. 

Suddenly, Damian was handed a sheathed dagger. It was a small thing, with a leather sheathe embroidered with birds and wolves and goats, and the hilt of the dagger was engraved with metallic symbols. Damian stared at it in awe, as Phantom explained. "This dagger is capable of turning into any bladed weapon. It's unbreakable, but it doesn't mean that it can cut into anything. Take care of it."

Damian unsheathed it, and it easily turned into a katana, just for him. Damian beamed and resheathed it. Them he pulled it out again, imagining a kitchen knife and it shifted forms without preamble. 

"Thank you!" Damian said sincerely. As a weapon lover and a boy who just wanted to be strong for his family, this was the best gift he could get in a while. 

Phantom nodded. "You've been looking at the Scrying Mirror lately, haven't you? That's why you were back in Room 2, right?"

And just like that, ice filled Damian's veins again. Damian halted in place, frozen and unable to answer. 

Phantom stared at him through the dark holes of the eye sockets. His eyes could not be seen and his body language could not be deciphered. 

Was he angry?

Damian finally stuttered, "Y-Yes. I'm sorry, I just..."

"I understand. You can have the mirror too."

Damian's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "No! I couldn't possibly!"

Phantom shook his head. "It's of no burden to me. I'd rather you take the mirror than to let it collect dust, anyways."

Damian stared at him in disbelief. 

Wasn't this once again, too good to be true? What was the price?

"... what do I have to give in return?"

Phantom was silent. Then he tilted his head, an air of 'smiling' coming off of him, before he said, "Spar with me?"

Damian blinked. 

"That's it?"

Phantom chuckled. "Please, you may be indebted to me, but don't think of yourself as a slave. You're an employee. You get benefits. As someone working for me, you will be protected by me and you are allowed privileges. As long as it's not something stupid or endangering you or someone else, you can do what you like. Your family will remain safe and sound. I will not use them as collateral."

Damian had not realized he had stopped breathing as he let go of the breath stuck in his lungs. 

"I see," he said, trying to maintain composure. "Then I am very thankful for your generosity."

"No problem. I'll come to you when I want a spar, so please do not worry about it."

————

The nightmares were still frequent. Damian dreamed of his family dying, his brothers on their knees, his sisters clutching their loose organs in their hands, his father lying still on the ground, his grandfather broken in pieces. 

It haunted him. 

Damian consoled himself with the images of their alive selves in his old world, but he could not help but wonder if he was hallucinating everything, if this image was not one where his family ressurrected with him as a sacrifice, but was instead, some random world where he had been tricked. After all, if it was true, then why was his family still not happy? 

Shouldn't they have been happier without him? Without the stain on the Wayne family's name, without the killer in their house, without the boy that ruined Robin and hurt all of them? 

Damian could not help but be haunted of thoughts whenever faced with his family. 

At times, he regretted bringing the mirror into his room. 

(But when he looked into its surface and saw his beloved family's faces, he could not find a reason to care anymore. Anything was fine as long as they were alive.) 

On those nights, Damian either exercised in his room until he collapsed from exhaustion or when he felt brave at times, explored the god's palace outside of his sleeping quarters. 

At night, the sky was dark and twinkling brightly with stars, shining through the windows that only opened when day ended. The world looked different under the moon, and Phantom's palace was still as lovely and mysterious as it was in the day. 

Telescopes would occasionally appear by the windows, with pencils and books and blankets. Sometimes in twos, even threes, but the various things left on the windows were rarely singular.

They would disappear by the time morning arrived. 

Damian wondered if Phantom was the one who sitting by the windows, looking at the stars through his telescope to record each one in his journals. He wondered if he liked the sky. He wondered if he had friends. He wondered if he had interests and hobbies, outside of whatever godly duties he did. 

It made him seem less like an otherworldly being and more like a person. 

The thought was oddly comforting. 

————

It seemed as though after that incident with the Mana Stone Bear, Phantom seemed to be even more relaxed around him. At least once a week, Damian spared some time to spar with the god. It was something fun and interesting to do, and Phantom, surprisingly enough, knew how to control his supposed strength. 

When they fought, Damian learned a lot of things about him. For one, Phantom was naturally reckless and clever. His patience and thoughtfulness had been trained into him and not ingrained, and when pushed, Phantom was likely to push back twice as hard. He was incredibly powerful, but he was mindful enough of his strength to hold himself back. Although from the amount of times he accidentally destroyed the training room, Damian could guess that he could've definitely torn him in half ages ago if he wanted. 

Fighting was a method of communication that Damian enjoyed and understood. As Damian learned more about Phantom, the walls within his heart began to soften. He could almost call Phantom a friend. 

Sometimes, he would think of Jason when dealing with Phantom. The two of them were alike, oddly enough. It was a similarity that he could not explain.

Although Phantom was often distracted and had his head in the clouds, he was fun to be around. At other times, he reminded Damian a lot of his most favorite brother as well as, surprisingly enough, his father. 

Phantom, past the airheadedness and mystery, was mischievous and fun-loving. He liked astronomy and played video games when he had time. He was also steady and relaxed. Like Richard, Phantom was kind and patient. Like his father, he was noble and stubborn, dedicated to his job and his ideals. 

Like now, Phantom was working on a piece of futuristic looking machinery. He had it placed in his lap and was clicking buttons in the air, moving holographic circles and lines around. They had just finished sparring and Damian had felt comfortable enough to linger around the throne room and sweep the floors. 

Damian stare at him from above and asked, "What are you working on?" 

He found that it was easy to ask questions because Phantom enjoyed conversation and often invited him to talk, usually about the mundane and strange things he thought of. 

"I am currently calculating the amount of deaths are coming from this particular universe."

Damian paused in his sweeping. "You... calculate deaths?"

Phantom also similarly paused, as if he had never realized that he had not given any hint to his job or role as a god. After a moment, Phantom spoke, "That is not my only job. I also protect the multiverses from attacks. I govern over the dead and make sure that they pass on peacefully. I watch the Infinite Realms to assure that they do not crumble."

Damian had not realized that the God he served under was so important. 

"Are you the only one who does jobs like this?"

Phantom laughed softly.  "I am the only one. There are other gods, but none in a seat of high power like mine. I am the sole being who can complete these jobs."

Damian stared at him, almost baffled by the loneliness in his voice. He had a lot of things to learn in this place. But he could take his time and learn it all slowly. 

After all, he had all of the time left in the world. 

————

Although Phantom had shown Damian around a little more, he had not given much instruction to the long hallway leading to the door that Damian had first gone through. Damian had glimpsed at the door leading into that specific space occasionally, but otherwise, had not went into it. Still, as his duty was to be a cleaner, Damian was determined to go inside eventually and clean the place up.

It was a beautiful place, but terribly disorganized and cluttered, as if the things there were tossed inside to be forgotten. Unlike the other Rooms, that corridor was in a specific disarray, as if the deterioration was on purpose. 

Phantom was gone from the throne room when Damian finally had the time to go and take a look around at everything. 

When he had first arrived, he had been frantic and scared. It had taken him countless, sleepless weeks before he made any headway for a solution for his dead family, and the moment he had discovered the legend of a wish-granting God, Damian had ignored all warnings and dove straight into finding him. 

Thankfully, it all worked out in his favor, as his family was alive and he was relatively well taken care of. 

He was lucky that Phantom was a kind god. Otherwise, his fate would've been far more worse than just doing chores and dusting off antiques. 

Damian dusted the entire place and paused underneath two large curtains covering something on the wall. Damian stared at it for a moment, before his curiosity got the better of him and he pulled the curtains aside. 

It was a large painting. 

It was an ornate portrait of a young boy. He had black hair and bright blue eyes, set on a youthful and charming face. He wore ordinary clothes, looking extremely plain, but in the background of his sitting figure, were ghosts that bubbled behind him. It was an odd picture that gave off a feeling of uncertainty and fear. The contrast between a peacefully smiling boy and the haunting visages behind him was disturbing. 

He thought of his own ghosts, his family. He wondered if Timothy and Jason made up. He wondered if Richard and his father reconciled. He wondered if his sisters were happy. (He couldn't help but think of Cassandra, who he had not seen on the terrible, terrible day. He wondered if she was still dancing, alive in his world.)

Damian shuddered and moved away. 

He dusted off everything and began to catalogue each object. 

Oddly enough, most of the things in the hall were not written down in the packet. 

But perhaps that should've been his first clue. 

Damian stopped at a piece of ribbon. It was colored sea-green and dirtied from mud and blood. Damian inspected it before he continued on. The things inside of the hallway were little, so Damian didn't have to keep track of much. Damian went off to find a tub of water and soap and began to scrub down the various pieces of clothes he saw. 

The ribbon, a red cap, a purple scrunchie. Many other pieces of fabric. 

Damian looked through them all, though he didn't touch them unless it was to wipe off the dust. Everything here was incredibly dusty, as if purposefully left neglected. Some things were so damaged by the passage of time that Damian had to put them aside for disposal. 

He was inspecting another blue-green ribbon before there was a chill inside of the hall. 

He turned, intent on complaining. "Phantom, this place is—"

His eyes widened. 

Phantom was floating, his hands clenched into fists, his shoulders raised, and his back tensed like he was about to pounce onto him. Damian could feel his fiery gaze on his hands and Damian glanced downwards, at the ribbon that was clutched between his fingers. 

Oh no. 

Had he done something unnecessary and touched something precious of Phantom's?

Damian began to apologize. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Get out." Damian blinked at the murmur. 

"What?" He asked, eyes wide.

Phantom's voice rose to a frightening level. "Get out! Get out!! GET OUT!!" Phantom threw his hand out and ice flowed out, shooting towards Damian with its razor sharp edges landing at his feet, frost forming on the floor. The chill got even worse, turning his breath into mist, and it scared him. Damian dropped the ribbon, dodging expertly and after a moment, ran in the opposite direction back to his room. 

Although his heart was pounding and Damian regretted his decision with all of his being, surprisingly enough, Phantom did not follow. Instead, he sank to his knees and clutched the ribbon to his chest, his shoulders shaking. His mask hid his expression, but crystalline droplets ran down the edge of the bone and fell onto the floor, forming little white pearls on the ground.

Each pearl landed on the ground with little tinkles, startling Damian.  

Damian paused. 

He thought of Dick, his Richard, his Batman, and how he forgave and loved and cared for people who didn't deserve it. Phantom clearly needed someone to be with him, rather than be abandoned. Damian was scared. Scared of what Phantom could do to him if he finally had enough and decided that torture was a good idea after all. 

But Phantom was not like Damian. 

He wasn't a brat. He wasn't a violent person. And he wasn't a murderer either. 

So Damian turned around and walked towards him. His heart was pounding but he continued until he stood behind Phantom.

Guilt tightened its hold on his heart and he wanted to throw up and beg for forgiveness. He hadn't meant to hurt Phantom, especially since they were slowly becoming allies, and even friends. 

"I'm sorry," Damian said.

Phantom snarled wetly. "Go away."

"I won't," Damian said. He took a quick breath and then sat down next to Phantom. Phantom shuddered hard and clutched at the ribbon like it was his lifeline. 

Damian slowly reached out and then pulled Phantom into a hug. "I'm sorry for touching something that belonged to your loved ones. I hadn't realized."

Phantom's skin was not cold. Although he radiated it like a popsicle, his skin thrummed and warmed like a real body. With a start, Damian realized that they were the same height and Phantom couldn't have a body that was older than his. He couldn't help but squeeze Phantom further. 

"You've lost loved ones too, haven't you?" He whispered, and Damian ached for Phantom. 

He was also without family. They were alike in more ways than one. 

"Forgive me, Phantom," Damian said softly, a hand reaching upwards as Phantom shook and sobbed. Damian held him for a long time, long enough that the two of them had sank to the floor and Damian had Phantom in his lap, curled up like a cat with his head on his shoulder. 

Damian stroked down Phantom's back. Phantom's sobs had petered out, and now he was a silent weight on top of Damian's lap. 

"I'm sorry," Damian said again. 

"I know," Phantom whispered. 

Damian rubbed his back. "I didn't mean to touch your things. I just thought to clean them since I noticed it before."

"... I know."

"Can you tell me why this ribbon is important to you?" Damian was reminded of Dick as his words fell from his mouth. 

Phantom nodded. "It belonged to my sister. Everything here is from my family."

Damian bit into his bottom lip and squeezed Phantom tighter, rubbing his head against Phantom's deer horns. "I should've asked to clean it."

"You should've," Phantom said, but his voice held no anger or emotion. He sounded numb. 

Damian's heart broke a little further and he tightened his grip on Phantom. Slowly, he rocked them back and forth, just like how Richard would do it when he held Damian after a long, hard night of patrol when they were each other’s partners. 

(He missed him. And he needed him more than ever.)

"If..." Damian was sharply reminded of his brothers and sisters. He continued, despite his tongue feeling heavy, "If you want to talk about it, I am willing to listen. I have also lost loved ones. As you know."

Phantom gave a little snort but otherwise remained silent. They stayed like that for a few more minutes in a comfortable limbo, before Phantom rubbed his face against Damian's shoulder, the bone pressing against his collar. Something clicked next to his ear before it fell and clattered against the floor. 

Damian's eyes widened as he spotted the white bone on the ground. "Phantom, your mask!"

"Yeah, I know." Phantom whispered, and his voice was even more young than Damian had imagined. It was boyish even, light and scratchy. 

Then he lifted his head and met Damian's eyes. 

White hair the same shade as Jason's deathly streak of hair with white eyelashes over glowing, bright forest eyes. He had a sweet face that Damian's father would've been scrambling to adopt. He smiled, and Damian couldn't help but return the look. He was suddenly very relieved and starkly reminded of his anxiety as he relaxed with Phantom's gentle expression. 

"Hello. Let's start over." Phantom smiled. "My name is Danny, also known as Phantom. You are?"

Damian stared at him in awe. 

He couldn't help but smile at him too. "Hello, Danny. Nice to meet you. I’m Damian Wayne.”

Phantom— no, Danny beamed and then curled against him. “Let’s talk later,” he said, and Damian nodded. He didn’t like speaking much either, so this respite was clearly needed. 

Later, he would speak with Danny further and hopefully, they could become even closer. 

Maybe Damian wouldn’t have to be alone anymore, away from his family. 

Huh. Maybe he had inherited more from his father than his good looks.