A/N: Thank you for the reviews! And CC, enjoy this :D and thank you for the idea.

Chapter Nine—The Reason for the Sex Talk

This was probably the second most surreal, uncomfortable experience of Terry's life. The first had been his dad giving him the sex talk at age thirteen. Over the dinner table. In front of his mother.

This, though, this came a close second. Bruce, Diana, Nick and Sarah were all looking at him; Nick and Diana with sympathetic looks that indicated he might be dying of some horrible terminal disease; Bruce and Sarah as though he'd explode at any time. Though thankfully they'd at least decided to get it all out in the open. These looks had been going on for weeks. He'd been about ready to resort to some of those interrogation skills Bruce had started teaching him recently.

Diana cleared her throat. "Terry, we have something to tell you. And it's going to be a bit of a shock."

He raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"You remember that your blood type was a perfect match for mine?" Sarah asked.

He nodded.

"We ran your DNA through the computer," she said.

Nick took over. "Terry...it matches Mom and Dad's."

Diana squeezed his hand. "Genetically...you're our son, Terry."

He looked at Bruce, received a nod in reply. Oh my God oh my God oh my God…

"I know it's a lot to take in–" Diana began.

"You think?" he asked, eyebrows around his hairline. "I mean… Are-Are you sure? There couldn't be a mistake or a malfunction on the computer–"

"We ran it twice," Sarah said. "Once in the Cave, once on the Watchtower. I even checked both computer systems for malfunctions. It's true. I'm sorry, Terry."

"Sorry?" he demanded. "What does this even mean? Why would you even think I needed to know?"

Sarah glanced over at her mother, something like I told you so flitting across her features. Luckily, Diana wasn't looking at her. Her eyes were still on Terry's face. He forced himself to be logical about this. "Okay. How?"

"Cadmus," Bruce told him, his voice deep and flat as ever. There was no way to tell how he felt about this; if he wanted Terry to know, the teenager had no doubt he'd tell him later. "It was a secret government taskforce originally set up to control or take down the Justice League. It was headed by a woman named Amanda Waller. Apparently over the years she gained a grudging respect for us–"

"–more specifically, Batman–" Sarah dropped in.

"–and decided that the League's non-meta members would act as a better check than any government initiative. But she also realised that Batman, Green Arrow, and Question couldn't operate forever. In Green Arrow's case it wasn't a problem; Michael Queen didn't inherit any of his mother's meta abilities."

"But Nick does," Terry pointed out after a moment.

"Exactly," Sarah nodded, taking over. "Waller was convinced that no meta could be trusted," she said, and then her expression turned distinctly sour as she continued, "and for some reason the fact that Olivia Sage and I are female meant we could be disregarded, so she took genetic material from Batman and Wonder Woman, then combined it with nanobots. Your parents thought they were getting flu shots. In actual fact they were having their reproductive material replaced."

Terry nodded, a thought striking him. "Wait—all their reproductive material?"

"We think so, yes. So Matt is probably the same."

There was a crushing silence.

Terry stood up. "Okay, I need to think about this," he said shakily. "Please, don't follow me?"

"We won't," Nick promised.

Terry made it to the clock in the library before giving in to the curses fighting to get out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…"

Now safely in the Cave, he forced himself to stop and take several deep breaths. "Okay, Terry, you can handle this. Think it through."

Except what was there to think through? If this had been April 1st he'd have thought this the most brilliant prank ever, but it wasn't. He even checked just to be sure. Nope. June second. Jesus. It was actually true.

And if it was, he had to see it for himself. Yanking the chair close to the computer, he brought up the database, typed in his name. And there is was, in black and white, completely irrefutable. He mentally went through the processes that Sarah would have gone through; the forensic tests and everything else. She would have done it at least three times. There would have been no room for any mechanical error, and the idea of a human error was laughable. No way Sarah would have screwed something like this up.

It wasn't even, he thought, as though he'd been told he was adopted. His mom had still given birth to him, his dad had still been his dad. And Matt?

Need to collect a DNA sample. Blood. No, that would be too hard to get. Hair. Get hair, test it. Chances of a DNA test being wrong are less than point zero three percent.

With a sudden surge of self-disgust, he shoved away from the computer. God, it was in his head. He was thinking like… Like…

"Batman," he muttered.

There was the sound of the clock opening up the stairs. He guessed it'd be one of the twins, and sure enough, Nick came down into the Cave. "If it helps, Sarah and Dad didn't want to tell you."

"Oh, well that makes it all better!" Terry retorted. "If they didn't want to tell me, why did they?"

"Mom wanted to. You know Dad…he'd do anything for her."

There could be no refuting that; the way they looked at each other sometimes was nauseating. Silence again, before Nick said tentatively, "Nothing has to change, Terry."

"The hell it doesn't! If nothing had to change, that you wouldn't have wanted to tell me. Diana wouldn't've. You both obviously want things to change–"

"That's not why," Nick said stubbornly. "You needed to know the truth, that's the only reason I wanted you to know."

So not the reason Diana did then. "Ever heard the saying 'ignorance is bliss'?" he snarled.

"That's not the way it works in this house. Truth is always above everything else, you know that."

Yeah, he did.

There was another long pause, where neither of them said anything or looked at the other one. Finally Terry let out a laugh. "God, I've lived my entire life related to the richest family in America. I mean, not even just rich but as famous as you too—how many times have I seen you on TV, how many times has Sarah been on magazine covers, and I had no idea… Oh my God," Terry suddenly muttered, turning away and putting a hand to his mouth.

Nick frowned. "What?"

"I, uh..." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly. "I had the biggest crush on Sarah when I was a kid."

To his credit, Nick's face stayed straight for a whole five seconds before he started cracking up. "It's not funny, it's disgusting!" Terry protested.

"Yeah...but it's hilarious! You… You…" Giving up on speech altogether, Nick sank to the floor laughing.

"Would you stop? Jeez I feel sick!"

"Well of course you do. You've had dirty thoughts about your siiiiiiister," Nick sang.

Terry hit him. "Cut it out! It's not like I knew!"

No reply except more laughter. Eventually there was nothing Terry could do except join in. It was interrupted by Nick's cell phone ringing shrilly. He took it out of a pocket and grimaced at the Caller ID.

"Not someone you wanted to talk to?"

"Michaela."

"Thought you two were…?"

"We were. Are. Sorta. Not anymore really."

The phone continued to ring. "Ordinarily I'd be with you on the not-speaking-to-ex-girlfriends thing, but considering this ex could punch even you through a dam…maybe you should answer it."

"Yeah…" Nick looked at him, blue eyes very direct. "You going to be okay?"

Terry shrugged. "Not for a while—but eventually."

"Good. Thanks, kid. And I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Nick smiled, then opened the phone. "Hey Mick. What's up?"

"Dad?"

His father didn't look up. "Mmm?"

Nick sighed, and took the paper out of Bruce's hands gently. "I'm– I'm in some trouble."

A condemning—it seemed to Nick—greying eyebrow was raised. "What kind of trouble?"

If he didn't get it out now, he never would. Taking a deep breath, Nick blurted it out. "Michaela's pregnant."

There was a long silence, during which his father did nothing but stare at him. Nick couldn't hold it, try as he might. When he looked away at the floor, Bruce spoke. "And you want me to help you break it to your mother and sister?"

Nick nodded, his own eyebrows raising. "Yeah. But–"

"But what?"

"Aren't you going to give me the 'how could you, you stupid, irresponsible–"

"Do you want me to?"

Bewildered, Nick shook his head quickly. "No, I was just expecting… Aren't you even going to do the 'you have to do the right thing' speech?"

Bruce stood. "I should. But I trust that your mother and I raised you well enough to know you should do that anyway."

"True," his son sighed. "Then, yeah, I need help with Mom and Sarah."

Suddenly there was a smirk on Dad's face. Nick couldn't imagine which part of this situation he was finding amusing. "What's so funny?" he asked testily.

"You knocked up Superman's daughter, and you're scared about telling your sister."

"Not funny, Dad! Uncle Clark knows me almost as well as you do, he knows I'm not about to run away from my responsibilities. Sarah, on the other hand..."

"Is going to want to disembowel you?"

"Exactly," Nick groaned. He flopped down on the couch, staring blankly around the room before burying his face in his hands. "She's never going to forgive me."

"She will," his father assured him. "In about fifty years or so."

"Fifty years?"

"What are you worrying about?" Dad asked, another smirk on his face. "You've got all eternity, remember?"

"Is that supposed to be comforting?"

Bruce put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Don't worry. She won't understand, and she will be mad, but equally, you're her twin. She loves you. She'll forgive you."

Nick nodded. "I know."

"Now seriously—what's the situation between you and Michaela?"

"We're not really even together anymore," Nick told him. "It was amicable, so there's no problem there. Don't think either of us want to get back together again. I just... I wasn't ready for this, Dad."

"Neither was I when your mother fell pregnant. I don't think anyone really is. It gets easier. You just have to remember that the most important thing now is your child. How far along is she?"

"About six weeks. She went to the doctor yesterday."

"Then you have the better part of eight months to get your head around the idea. And you also should prepare to be her slave for the duration of the pregnancy. Her hormones will be insane."

"How do you know?" Nick asked. "Mom spent the majority of her pregnancy on Themyscira."

A shadow of sadness and anger passed over Bruce's face. "I know. But I had to help Vic come up with a decent sardine-flavoured ice cream when Helena was pregnant with Olivia. We both had to dodge crossbow bolts when it wasn't right."

"Sardine-flavoured? Gross!"

"And I wouldn't make any smartass comments about her cravings either," Bruce said, now looking distinctly amused. "Clark made the mistake of doing that with Lois and practically had to go into hiding at the Fortress of Solitude for a week."

"At least Sarah doesn't have a crossbow," Terry's voice commented from the doorway.

Nick jumped into the air, and didn't quite make it down again, staying about a foot up off the floor. "Damn it, that is not supposed to be genetic!"

Terry was wearing a smirk identical to the one on Bruce's face, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes that came straight from Diana. "So Michaela's pregnant, huh? Guess that renders my blackmail material useless."

Nick was almost afraid to ask. "…blackmail material?"

"Well, put it this way—if Diana ever sees what you and Michaela got up to in the Invisijet, I think you'll have to buy her a new one, since she'll take one of her shiny battleaxes to it. And then probably to you."

"Great. Choice between dismemberment via my mother or disembowelment via my sister. Wonderful. I'm going to bed."

"Not before telling your mother, you're not."

It was about seven thirty a.m. (three days later; he still hadn't found the courage to tell Sarah) when his cell phone rang, shattering the fuzzy cocoon of sleep. In a daze, Nick groped around on the nightstand for it, squinting at the caller ID. Tim. He pressed accept.

"Not that I don't wanna talk to you, but what the hell are you doing phoning me at this hour?"

"I'm just helping you practice," came the grinning voice of his older brother. "Baby's going to be waking you earlier than this."

"Baby–?" Nick let out a long sigh. "Dad told you."

"Yep," Tim replied, sounding insufferably cheerful despite the early hour. "Still terrified?"

"Completely."

"Sarah still in the dark?"

"Yeah. Mom and Terry know now. But I mean it's Sarah—she knows there's something going on, but so far she doesn't know what. I was going to tell her later today. With the rest of the family there."

"What, for an intervention?" Tim laughed. "If she wants to hurt you, no one's going to stop her, you know that."

"I know, I know…"

"Well I have a free day today—want me to bring Jack over, get her in a good mood?"

"Yeah," Nick nodded. "Actually, yeah, that's a really good idea! Thanks, Tim, I owe you." Jack was Tim's oldest—and so far only—son, and at five years old, he was the apple of his Auntie Sarah's eye.

"Yes, yes you do. In fact you can make it up to me by babysitting for the next nine months."

"It's a deal. Want to come over for lunch? I can make meatballs."

"God, you really are scared about what she'll do, aren't you?"

"See you later, Tim."

Tim laughed cheerfully in a way that made Nick want to stab him in the eye. "Bye, Nick."

A/N: Review please!