I don't own Young Justice or any related characters.

A/N: I'm sorry for the wait. I really am. I tell myself I'm going to finish it up and upload, and it just keeps getting pushed back. I do like this chapter. So I hope it makes up for the short hiatus. Don't forget to drop a favorite, or a follow, or at least a review.

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Washington General Hospital

April 4, 13:29 EST

Dick knocked on the door of room 520.

"Come in." He didn't recognize the voice. A small panic set in before he realized it could just simply be the nurse.

As he opened the door, a small sense of relief washing over him finding he was correct, the nurse, dressed in scrubs, was making notes on the clipboard as he entered. With Captain Atom knowing where Batgirl was he couldn't take any more chances.

"Hey Dick!" Barbara shouted at him. The nurse beside him chuckled as he waved back at his friend.

"She just came out of surgery on her femur. She may be a little out of it and maybe even a little tired."

Dick nodded at her statements. "Thanks."

The nurse replaced the board and exited the room.

He put on his best smile as he gripped the manila folder in his hand tighter. He was happy to see Barbara, but knew this wasn't a social visit. He was still angry for the stunt Superboy had pulled the day before. And although he had found no evidence on this Jeremiah Danvers, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this. But now as he saw Barbara so lighthearted, he found himself wrestling if she should bring this, along with other news, to her. He would hate to bring up any traumatic memories for her.

She looked and sounded a lot better even with the surgery she just had. Her voice still sounded slightly hoarse, but had greatly improved.

"So they hopped you up on morphine? Looks like it's doing wonders."

"Yep. Can't feel a thing. Bring me anything this time?"

He placed the folder behind his back. This wasn't the time.

"Not today. Today I thought you just needed someone to talk to."

Her smile widened. "How did you know? I try with the nurses, but it's just small talk. It gets really lonely up here. I know nobody's supposed to know, but it would be nice for some more company."

"How lonely? Babs, you've only been here two days and have been asleep most of it."

"I actually don't sleep a lot. I can't even if I wanted to, and right now I haven't really wanted to. And the only people who know about me have busy lives. Tim hasn't really been able to get away, and Alfred only came briefly yesterday." Her smile had faded some, but it still rested on her face.

Dick rubbed the back his neck, a wave of guilt passing over him. "Barbara, I'm really sorry. I… we just don't want you to get hurt again. If no one knows then, no one can get you. But I promise to come by more often."

Barbara nodded, content with his answer. "So why don't you sit and stay awhile now?"

He sat in the chair next to the head of her bed. "Not much on television to keep you occupied, huh?"

She adamantly shook her head. "I've been in a show abyss since the beginning of March."

"Really? No shows, no one else's drama to live in? Whatever shall you do?"

They laughed. The joyous noise interrupted by Barbara's stomach.

"Have you been eating well?"

"Haven't had much of an appetite, but you know hospital food."

"Yeah, paste made to look like real food. I swear that's the only reason Bruce doesn't come to be treated at the hospital."

"He's been spoiled by Alfred's scrumptious cooking. I wish I had some now."

"Well when you get better, I'm sure he wouldn't object to cooking your favorite meal. Especially if his and everyone else's favorite Robin does a little convincing."

"You're so full of it." She began to shift her leg as she sat up. Moving it, her foot missed the sling, and the leg dropped, the foot landing on the metal bedpole. Her face twisted in pain slightly. Dick got up quickly, moving with super speed to aid her.

"Good thing for the morphine." Barbara smirked.

"Yeah. You trying to give me a heart attack?" He helped her adjust her foot before sitting down. His gaze remained on her lower injuries.

"Dick, my leg is fine. As is the rest of me, up here."

"Sorry."

She looked hard at him as he moved to look at her face. She was one of the few that could see his face without the glasses or the mask. His light blue eyes were hard, clearly wrestling something in his mind.

"Alright. Spill it."

"What are you talking about?"

She gave him a knowing look. "I may be half dead, but I still know how to read a person. You had this same look on your face when you visited me last time. And that guilty story you gave me was a cover-up for what you really had to say. So, Richard Grayson, spill it, before I have to get up and make you."

She was definitely good, but he didn't know how to approach the subject. However, she wasn't going to let him go until he gave her what she was looking for.

He stared past her not being able to look her directly in the eye. He took a breath before starting. "When Tim and Alfred visited the first night you were here, they were asked if they were kin to you."

"So they could identify me?"

"No. They wanted a… a… a DNA test. They had a few questions about you after seeing your… your war-"

"They asked you all for permission for a rape kit?" The smile Barbara had been holding since Dick's entrance faded. A frown deepening in her face as a surprised look crossed her friend's.

"I've been here for awhile, it was bound to come up again." She added, seeing the expression.

Richard felt himself sinking with her countenance. He knew this would happen if he told her, but that was no longer an option. She had a right to know the truth.

"The doctor told me a little after you left the first day. They took a kit within the next few hours."

"And what did they say?"

"They, uh… they hadn't given me an answer yet. Being in and out of surgery, I suppose they didn't have time, or they just thought it best if I was left in the dark so I couldn't be hurt any worse." She turned her head away from him briefly.

"Barbara, I didn't mean to leave you without knowing. I… I just couldn't see you hurt anymore." Richard returned, the last sentence barely above a whisper. As she began to turn back, she took a moment to collect herself before turning completely to him and saying, "Thank you."

Richard's face frowned. "For what?"

"I knew you knew something the first time you came by. Them when the doctors told me I knew that was what you were hiding. I was angry with you at first, but I realized you wanted to keep me from the heartache. At least while you could." A single tear rolled down her face as she looked towards the door.

"I should have been there to help you. I could've-"

"Maybe you could've. Maybe it wouldn't have mattered." She paused as her single tear was followed by a few others. Her voice sounded hoarse again. "Sometimes we can't change fate. But then I think about this," she gestured to her whole body, "and in this work you expect a broken bone, a concussion, even a little emotional trauma, but this. The violation of my personal space. I never thought anyone would stoop so low. I know I've seen it in Gotham, but you never think 'I'm next.' You never think how an intimate part of life could be so perverted, and I let it happen."

"Babs, no one lets this happen."

"Regardless if anyone lets it happen, it happened to me. And I don't know how I'll get past it. Even if nothing happened, the psychological damage is already there. That's why I can't sleep, why I can't eat. I just..." Her gaze fell as she looked over her injuries, another tear rolling down her face.

Her voice was soft as were her face and hands. Dick looked at her thoroughly as he took them in his own. She looked broken. Her spirit looked tired, as if it just wanted to give up. She had always been a strong figure in his life, someone he could talk to when things got rough. Now the tables had been flipped and he had to be the strong one, for her.

"You're right." Barbara turn to once again look at him. "It did happen to you. Not to me, Tim, or Bruce. Heck, it didn't even happen to Connor."

She sat up to face him. "Where are you going with this Richard?"

"It didn't happen to us. But that's because none of us could handle it. Barbara, you are the strongest person I've met. You're able to take a rough situation and find good in it. You're not physically the strongest on our team, but your ability to talk someone off the ledge by connecting emotionally is way more powerful than brute strength.

"Bruce couldn't handle this. He's too stubborn to face the reality of the situation. Connor couldn't handle this. He's too angry and consumed by revenge. Tim, he's too young and inexperienced; it would crush his spirit. I couldn't handle it either. I'd be too concerned with self-guilt. But you, you know how to see the bad and make it good.

"You've seen the rough nights in Gotham. A double homicide that scars a child for life, a break-in that leaves a family hopeless, a rape that never leaves the minds of everyone involved." Barbara cringed as the graphic images passed through her mind.

"You've seen it, and somehow have been able to keep a bright light in that dark, criminal underworld.

"When I've had a bad night, I don't call Bruce. I mean Bruce is physically strong. He can look a graphic, gruesome situation in the face and not be deterred. But that's because he has trained himself to be rid of emotion. I call you. I know that whatever I'm facing, as long as you're with me, I can do it.

"Bruce is a great partner. Every detail is accounted for. Tim is great too. He listens really well. But when I need a partner who will really have my back, there's nobody I would want more. So, no, it didn't happen to anyone else. But there's no person better equipped to take this and keep moving than you."

The tears had started flowing again, and though she did her best to hide them, Richard could still see. He stood, moving right by her side. Taking his free hand, he carefully caressed her face, using his thumb to dry her tears. He flashed one of his most comforting smiles. As he leaned over her to help her reposition again, he could feel her warm breath against his neck.

"I think you're all-," he began. He couldn't finish as she pulled him in for a kiss. It took him a second to realize what was happening, but he soon let go, closing his eyes in content, letting his desire for her outrule any other thought. And the more he desired, the more passionate the kiss became. Even his desire to breathe wouldn't allow him to push away. He only wanted her.

Staying like that for what seemed like forever, Richard only opened his eyes at the gentle push he felt from his front side. He licked his lips, savoring her taste, smiling at the woman in front of him, as he caught his breath. Barbara looked in horror at her actions, her chest heaving up and down from sheer terror and lack of oxygen.

She began apologizing profusely. "Dick. I am so sorry. I… I don't know what happened. The… the… the morphine must be still be in my system. I really don't know what-"

"Barbara, calm down. I'm not complaining. I'm just whelmed it's over." He was grinning from ear to ear. His eyes twinkling with delight.

Barbara averted her eyes as her cheeks turned a shade of light pink. She noticed the manila folder on the chair.

"Is the folder the reason you came by?" She asked in an effort to hurriedly change the subject.

Dick followed her gaze to the folder he had absentmindedly discarded. Now, picking it up, the content seemed heavier than before.

"If it's about Captain Atom, I know I was a real pain about it the other day, but I really don't know much to say about him. He came in while I was half conscious. I don't know how he knew, but he was asking a lot of questions. Things like 'What was your mission assignment?' or 'Do you know who did this to you?'"

"Don't worry about Atom. I was out of line with how I acted. I said things before I thought them through 'cause I was mad at the whole situation."

"Have you talked to him about it? Is his file in the folder?"

"Uh, no. Atom's been AWOL since last I came in here. I've looked, but nothing. I'm definitely not feeling the aster about this. Really, I'm not feeling it for this whole deal." He waved the file in the air. "This included."

"So what's in it?"

He took a deep sigh before he answered. "Yesterday, your partner, Connor brought this civilian into the Cave. He claimed this was the man that attacked the two of you."

She could hear the contempt in his voice. "So you don't think it was him?" She smirked as she pulled out the pictures.

He could hear the sarcasm on her voice, but ignored it, moving on to finish explaining. "No, I don't. The man looks like he might be 100 pounds. And when I found Connor interrogating him, he looked like he was pooping his pants. He was scared to tell us his whereabouts for fear of 'incriminating himself'. The guy just doesn't look like he could do," he gestured to her injuries, "that." He sat back down in his chair. "I know I can't just judge off looks. Bruce and I have taken down plenty of guys that didn't 'look' like psychopaths. I've been wrestling with it all night. Every time my head says put it off, my gut won't leave me alone. So here it is.

"Those are pictures from the surveillance camera as he entered and left. I know you can't remember much, but sometimes a picture can unlock a memory."

Barbara looked intently at each picture, her smirk transforming into a frown. She had long drowned Dick out as her full concentration was on the images before her.

"Babs, did you hear me?"

"What?"

"Just try and do what you can. If none of his features ring any bells it's fine. I'll work anoth-"

"I don't recognize him." She readily replied.

"Oh, okay. I'll… I guess it's back to the drawing board." Dick responded- taken aback by the shortness of her answer.

He took the pictures and reorganized them in the folder. Leaning in to touch her hand he reassured her, "Thanks again." Barbara quickly snatched her hand away. She looked at him angrily, a hint of unfamiliarity in her eyes that looked into his spirit.

"Barbara are you alright?" Richard leaned in to try and comfort her, but again she pulled away.

"Get away from me. Don't touch me!"

"Barbara, it's me."

She had the same glazed over look in her eye that she had when he found her that night in the woods. Her breathing had become shallow and her face began beading with sweat.

"Stay back!" Her arms began flailing in every direction, fighting him off then taking to the invisible attacker again. Her good leg was kicking back and forth in an effort to ward off whatever attack was happening in her mind. But her entire body began to slow. Her eyes rolled back into her head. She laid still as the heart monitor she was attached to flat-lined.

Panic arose in Dick's body. His heart beat faster as he called for the doctors. Maybe if it had been a stranger, he would've known what to do, but his emotions were running high and his mind was running blank.

"Hey! Someone get in here!"

The seconds that passed seemed like hours before the doctors rushed in.

"We're going to have to ask you to leave." They pushed him out as he stole one last look at her still form.

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Richard stood next to the bench in the hallway outside Barbara's room. His head rested against his forearm as he leaned against the wall. He banged his free hand against the brick wall, desperately wishing he could take his anger out on someone at that moment. Wishing everything that he could take her place right now.

He turned around and took a few breaths before taking his seat again. The doctors had been in and out several times for the last twenty minutes. The whole time he had felt useless in his seat.

"Mr. Grayson?"

He lifted his head as the doctor approached him.

"She's alive and stable at this point."

Dick let out a sigh of relief as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Can I see her?"

"Not at this time, no. She's been sedated. And we'll most likely keep her under for at least the rest of the day, possibly even tomorrow."

"Why is she sedated?"

"The emotional trauma she was experiencing was causing a physical reaction. After we revived her, she went into a frenzy. And might I add, she has a mean right hook."

The doctor had tried to make the mood lighthearted, but the look on Dick's face told him he had less leeway than he thought.

He cleared his throat before continuing. "Her reaction was going to undo the work done through surgery. The sedation should help to mellow her, make her more placid. But we will give you a call the moment you can see her again."

Dick nodded, several things crossing his mind at the same time.

As the doctor left, the weight of what really happened sank in. He opened up the folder and examined the images. Barbara had recognized Jeremiah. Perhaps it was a combination of trauma and something else, but there was no longer any doubt in his mind that that man had assaulted her. And Richard had let him walk away.

Mount Justice

April 4, 22:35

The force of his hand nearly broke a hole through the wall. The noise echoed against the other metal walls of the room.

"Connor! Please." M'gann gripped her hair through her fingers and closed her eyes. The headache she had incurred while escorting Jeremiah had intensified despite her efforts to reduce it.

"If you'll remember, you stepped into my room. If your head hurts so bad, leave." He snapped.

She looked dejectedly toward the door as she began to walk out.

He let out a sigh knowing he was out of line. She had come in in an effort to help. "You don't have to go."

M'gann stopped right before reaching the door. After a glance over her shoulder, she returned to her seat. Superboy sat on the edge of his bed across from her. Whenever M'gann was around he felt different. They weren't together, but he could still see she had feelings for him. And deep down he knew he had feelings for her. He didn't feel as if he had to have everything perfect with her, in fact, it was quite the opposite. No matter how badly he messed up, she was always willing to console him, which was most likely the reason she had entered his dwelling space now. But despite the mutual attraction, things were still awkward between them.

M'gann closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

"Why don't you take something for it?"

"I have. I've eaten, drank several bottles of water, and have tried to rest. I just don't think this is a regular headache."

"Don't tell me Martian headaches are any different than anyone else's."

"It's not that. This is more like… psychic feedback. Ever since I escorted Jermaine home, I've felt like my head is going to explode."

"Jermaine?"

She blushed as her eyes widened in realization. "Jeremiah. I meant Jeremiah."

Connor could hear the elevation in her heartbeat. Something was off. "Did something happen last night?"

She paused as she let the revolting memories pass. Shaking her head, she replied, "Nothing I couldn't handle. It's just that Jeremiah is not the mild-mannered man I thought him to be."

Connor's face began to twist in disapproval. "But you still don't think he did it, do you?"

"Connor, it's not that I don't believe you. But you have to look at the facts."

"You sound just like Nightwing. I guess you are taking his side."

"I'm not taking his side. I'm not taking anyone's side. I just want this all to be sorted out."

"Well it's gonna be hard to do that if you're letting a guilty man walk free."

"There's no proof he's guilty. He passed your lie detector test."

"Big whoop. I can name five people on the Team or the League that can pass a polygraph. That doesn't mean he's not lying."

"But he didn't know he was taking a polygraph."

Connor turned away, bringing his hand toward the wall next to him for another release of rage. He stopped it inches away, remembering the predicament of his guest.

She sighed, conceding to avoid any further confrontation. "Alright. Maybe Jeremiah found some way to lie. But you've seen his stature, and I don't think he's a meta. What purpose would Cadmus use him for? What would Cadmus be doing that they need him?"

She caught him staring off into the distance before refocusing on her. But his expression had changed. His face radiated with anger.

"You think I'm crazy don't you? You're just humoring me so I can see the error of my ways and come off my soap box."

"I wouldn't patronize you."

"Of course you wouldn't. Just like I wouldn't create a story for attention, but that's what I'm doing isn't it?"

"Connor, I never said that."

"You're no different than Nightwing, Aqualad, or anyone else. Superboy, you're crazy. Superboy you're only doing this to save your skin. You're a danger to everyone here. Superboy let me humor you so you can see your foolishness and drop your stupid idea. You're just like the rest, worse even, 'cause you made me think you care."

"Connor, I would never say that to you. Would you just listen?" M'gann tried to respond, but found her focus interrupted by the throbbing pain in her head as she clenched her teeth hoping to distract her body from it.

"Connor I told you! Please." A gaping hole was now placed among the dents.

"This is my- You know what, forget it. Stay. I'm going out."

"Wait." She called after him, but he was already out the door. She wanted to chase after him, but her headache was making it difficult to do so. She stayed and nursed her temples, hoping he would just blow off steam and be back.

Washington DC

April 4, 23:01

He walked out the zeta tube. An immeasurable amount of anger swelled in his chest. He didn't know where he was headed, but in the back of his mind it just felt right. It was like his legs knew where to go without his mind giving thought to a destination.

But maybe that was what was disconcerting about it. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't stop himself from doing it. Yet it felt right; his subconscious making decisions with no objections from his conscious mind.

He couldn't think straight. It was difficult to create cohesive thoughts, only raw emotions swimming around, anger at the top of the list. His temperament dragging his legs for the ride as he tried to find clarity in his own mind. Maybe that was why he couldn't stop his body from where ever it was going.

With the war raging in his mind, it didn't take him long before he was standing outside of Cadmus' doors. A series of memories rushing him as he entered the glass doorway.

His body was unable to move to prevent the injection being forced in his arm. The cold serum sent a chill up his spine. His body shut down as his mind slipped back into a fog.

What happened those two nights? He hated not knowing. And with Batgirl hospitalized, his moral conscience was eating him from the inside out. He knew it was his fault she was there. He had left her. The details still were hazy, but he knew that Nightwing was right. Had he stayed and helped, she wouldn't be fighting for her life at this moment. The more he tried to replay the moment, the more infuriated he became, trapping himself deeper in his own head.

His legs continued to guide him down towards the secret elevator. It sped down to the lowest level as the doors closed. Even though it had been years since he had been in the depths of his "birthplace", his body knew where to take him. He stepped out and continued on his path. His feet bringing him to a familiar DNA locked door reading "PROJECT KR" above it.

It took him a moment, but as soon as it hit him, his head snapped in realization. The swamp his brain had been muddling through seemed to pass, clarity moving in. He stopped short of the front of the door, now that he was in control again. Almost as if he had set off a motion sensors on an automated door, it swung open, a tall figure stepping into the light, an expectant look on his face.

"Luthor!"

Superboy charged, rage fueling his movements. He reached out ready to strangle the man. But every attempt was cut short by a constriction of his muscles. His arms began to burn as he continued to try and attack Luthor, every attempt falling short.

"Do you really think I would lead you here and not have a way of controlling you? Clearly that stupidity came from Superman's genes."

Luthor moved closer to the clone, moving his hand from his earpiece to grabbing the chin of the young man. He examined, studying his artwork. Though it had been years, he was still one of the most remarkable feats of science he had accomplished, until now. It was the closest he had been to defeating Superman and the Justice League, putting him on top. But all of that was going to change, and this wonderful specimen was going to help bring him there.

Again, Superboy did his best to grab and attack Luthor, but his arms refused him. His body wouldn't respond to his thoughts just as it refused him earlier.

"Nanobots. They reroute the signals your nerves send so that your body does what I command without mind control. You do remember us giving them to you, don't you?"

Superboy's body shivered involuntarily as he relived the moment.

He fell to the ground, catching himself with his hand and knees. He used the platform he was previously attached to help himself up. Immediately he returned back to the ground, struggling to catch his breath. His wheezing became more ragged and desperate as Luthor stood over him.

Superboy looked up, almost pleading that Luthor end his suffering. A smug look appearing on the maniacal business man's face.

As his lungs continued to burn drastically running out of air, he felt his muscles tighten and relax as he was forced into a standing position. Soon his body began moving of its own accord, his breath finally returning to him. The smile on Luthor's face spreading.

"Perhaps you do. And if that is the case, I suppose we still have some training to do for Project ESP." Luthor continued.

Jeremiah stepped around the corner, a shocked look in his eyes, yet a pleased smile coming to rest on his face as he laid eyes on the clone.

It took less time for the shock to wear off Superboy. Catching Luthor off guard, he lunged at Jeremiah, winding up to finish him off. He began to release the punch, itching for his hand to connect with his face. So when his body failed him, his hand frozen in place, he was confused. The forceful cease of the energy causing his muscles to tense up, creating a burning sensation. Jeremiah continued to stare at him, unflinching even by the threat of the possible injury. His eyes feeling as if they could pierce steel, wild and cold. No personality behind them.

"I told you. I wouldn't bring you here if I didn't have a way to control you. Like a good little soldier I've groomed you to be." At a touch of his earpiece, Superboy's body became rigid, standing at attention. "Or like a servant and his master." Another touch and the clone was on one knee, kneeling before Luthor. "I rather like this pose. Bowing to your master as it should be."

Superboy lifted his head, a snarl on his face. "Take off that earpiece and let's see how in control you are. You and your gopher boy."

"As much fun as that sounds, I'll have to decline. But you do make a good point. This way of control isn't the most secure or even the most efficient. It's just a contingency plan to be honest. Because even for all my intelligence, I find myself without the coveted meta-gene, my kryptonite, if you will. And even with the muscle I surround myself with, it isn't guaranteed that this plan won't fall through. But what if I added another piece of muscle?"

"Beef up that rat next to you. He can't protect you. And I'm not walking out of here until you both are on your way to Belle Reve."

Luthor gave Jeremiah a knowing look. "Jeremiah is here to make sure my other assistants don't get out of control. He won't have much interaction with you. I wouldn't want to put too much strain on him. The others don't have the same enhancements you have. I need the muscle of someone who knows too much."

The young hero sensed the sinister tone of the billionaire's voice. He knew that he was the one being referred to. "There's nothing you can say to make me work for you."

"You really don't think so? Foolishness. Well, I suppose you are more Superman than Luthor. But you look more like an Ultra Man to me." Again Superboy stood, no emotion on his face. Luthor waved his hand in front of the clone's face, no reaction as expected. He had installed several new code words in him during his short two-night stay, "Ultra Man" being one of them.

"I just love the effects of genetic modifying. Now, the real work begins."

Blüdhaven

April 5, 15:56

Nightwing sat in his chair staring intently at the footage playing in front of him.

"Shouldn't you be at school? You and I both know Bruce'll kill you if he knew you were shooting hookey while he's away."

Tim came from behind the door on the far end of the room, slight disappoint was spelled on his face. "Guess I still have a lot of work to do."

"You're getting better, but I'm sure he would have heard you as soon as you walked in the door."

Tim came to stood behind Dick, watching as he watched. Although Richard knew he was back there, and there wasn't much chance of him leaving, he secretly wished he would. He had had enough emotional distress for a lifetime in the past few days. He had to give it all he had to hold himself together after the incident with Barbara. He had let a guilty man walk. And now, he couldn't make heads or tales of this case, no matter how many clues they gave to him. Right now, he just wanted some time to himself so he could figure all of this out. That's why he had been looking at this video all night, hoping that if he drowned himself in his work, it would magically make his hurt go away. He shuddered knowing that he sounded like his father.

After several minutes of uncomfortable silence, Richard turned to face his guest. "And you're not in school because?"

Tim smiled surprised Dick didn't know. "It's spring break."

He responded back without missing a beat. "Then why aren't you using your spare time to patrol Gotham?"

"Because it's 4:00."

"Really?" Dick looked at his watch, scratching his head. "Guess it is."

Tim's amusement soon turned into curiosity. He knew Dick always threw himself wholeheartedly into his work, but this was unusual for him. "How long have you been up?"

Dick turned back around in his seat. "Went to see Barbara. Did some patrol. Couldn't sleep, so I've been looking at this for the last," he checked his watch again, "ten hours."

"Ten hours?! What are you looking at?"

"A couple days ago I visited Luthor hoping he could give me something."

"Any luck?"

"No, but with no one else able to remember anything, I didn't have much of a choice. He told me the explosion that came the same night that Connor and Barbara returned was caused by a lab experiment gone wrong. He and a couple of scientist trying to make some new serum, mixed some wrong chemicals, the lab went up in smoke. At least that what he said."

"You believed him?"

"No. But he gave me this USB with video footage to prove me wrong. And as much as I hate it, I can't find anything wrong with it."

"Did you test it for tampering and editing?"

"I've run it through every software I know, and I've combed over it several times, but it's over three hours of footage. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack. Luthor's no second rate villain, and the fact that he gave this to me means he's done everything he knows how to make sure I don't find anything."

"Or maybe he told you the truth."

"Yeah right." He rubbed his face, exhausted from all that was going on around him. After this was over, he was going off the grid, treating himself to a much needed vacation.

"Want some help? I'm sure a fresh pair of eyes could help this go faster."

Dick pulled up a second chair, gesturing for Tim to sit. When he was settled, Dick started the video again. The timer at the bottom read two hours and fourteen minutes and continued to tick away steadily as they stared at the screen.

It seemed like ages as the two studied the film as a high school team does before the big game. As Tim looked up, the timer read two hours and forty-six minutes. An audible sigh of exasperation escaped his lips. How had Dick been able to do this for ten hours?

"It's only been thirty minutes. You're bored already?"

"Just need a new angle. Maybe… what if… what if there's nothing wrong with the footage? What if it's something technical, like the timer?"

"The timer just checks how long the footage is. And the clock and date were one of the first things I checked. They match up to the timeline of event."

"Yeah, but pause the tape." The take froze, an image of Luthor and two other scientist conducting the experiment as he had said. "There. In the background. That clock, it doesn't look like it matches up. Enhance it." A few seconds later, the clock filled the screen. "The one on display is right, 01:03. And the date, April 2. But the clock in the room says April 3, 22:48."

Dick gave a sly smile at his younger brother. "I could kiss you right now."

"As fun as that sounds, we just figured out Luthor lied. But we already knew that. The question is still 'Why?'"

"Here's a better question. If the date and time is April 3 at 22:48, how was he able to upload it to the system? I visited him before this was made. This is one of the most secure networks in the world. If he would of hacked in, I would have seen it."

Tim took the USB in his hand and held it to the light.

"Satellite uplink. The beaker's in the insignia."

"How were you able to see that without a magnifying lense. Unless…"

"I put one in my sunglasses."

Dick sighed as he rubbed his face. "I guess I'm more sleep deprived than I thought. Don't think I've ever been this restless."

"Reckless."

He glared at Tim. "That too. But like you said, this only confirms what we already know. We're no closer to stopping him than we were earlier. All we know is that Luthor is behind it." He slammed his fist on the desk.

Tim could see his exasperation. It didn't take a detective to see he was thinking of Barbara. He usually had focus, but knew that this extra fire was because she was hurt. He never was as good with expression or emotion as other people, better than Bruce, but neither him or Dick had the greatest example. All he knew was to sit and let him work it out. It was just be better for everyone that way.

"Maybe he-" Tim began as he brought his hand to his ear. "Robin."

Nightwing waited as he finished, closing his files down. He wasn't getting anywhere. This lead seemed to be another dead end.

He could tell by the expression on Tim's face that this was something big. Maybe he was no longer leader, but he was still available to help if he was needed.

"Aqualad just called an all hands on deck."

"Why?"

"Nuclear meltdown at all of Luthor's out-of-state locations."