Author's Note: This chapter is a tad shorter than the last, but it's also out way sooner, so hopefully it all evens out! We're gearing up for the story's climax, so fasten your seatbelts, folks! ~ Tsuki

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I don't own any characters mentioned in this story. The rights belong to DC comics, Bob Kane, etc.

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Darkness Cannot Drive, Part 23/? (Beyond Broken: Chapter Five)

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Terry feels his stomach drop, his insides morphing into what feels like a black hole. His throat is strained, and if he could breathe at all then he thinks he might start to hyperventilate. After a moment, he steadies himself enough to force out the word: "What?"

"Well, not a full clone. Not exactly," the cracked and hollow voice of Ra's al Ghul says. "Cadmus never did perfect that. They tried with the Nightwing clone project, amongst others. Imperfect. Insane. Broken. They could not recreate a hero from nothing but cells. Take Superman as one example—they needed a secondary DNA to create the clone known as Superboy. They used Lex Luthor's, which likely says quite a bit about both about Luthor's narcissism and his unhealthy fixation on the alien. But that is neither here nor there. Superboy was a unique project—Kryptonian DNA lent itself well to filling in scientific gaps, and even then Cadmus could not recreate the process. So when they began on project Batman Beyond, they took a slightly different approach."

Ra's al Ghul's gnarled fingers flick a switch on nearby control panel and a monitor lights up in Terry's eyesight. On the screen, a side by side mapping of his own DNA and Bruce's are clearly labeled, along with markers showing the sections of clear genetic match.

"Cadmus used fertility clinics to continue their experiments, which is likely where they came across your parents. Your mother's DNA is still present in your genome, used to stitch together what they couldn't replicate from the Detective. But your father's DNA was rewritten and replaced. You are—genetically—the man known as Bruce Wayne. At least, mostly." al Ghul sighs, sounding defeated and disgusted. "Not perfect, but you will have to do. You are all I have. Forcing the real Detective back into the Lazarus Pit is far too risky. It's bad enough that my former invention isn't compatible with Cadmus's DNA structure and I must use these inelegant nanobots…"

"Why?" Terry chokes out finally. "Why would they do that? I'm just… my family is normal. We don't have any connection to the Waynes."

Ra's attempts to shrug, but his cloaked shoulder trembles. "Why does Cadmus do anything? It was a horrid little organization—not much better than poking with electric pins at frogs to see if they'll jump from pain. All very small picture. But they saw some value in the heroes; they wanted to preserve them. Recreate them. The files my servants stole seem to indicate that your parents were going to be murdered in front of your eyes, perhaps after leaving some form of entertainment. Nature and nurture—would such a thing recreate someone or something as extraordinary as the Detective? I doubt it. But that was Cadmus's hypothesis. However the program was abruptly ended, leaving their plans unused." The mouth of Ra's al Ghul smiles a wide, yellowed, crooked grin. "And it would be such a shame to let all of their efforts go to waste. I suppose it is only right that I take advantage."

The creature-like form nods at the waiting doctor. "Make sure the bonding takes, but hurry. I want the body to be in my control as soon as possible."

"It's a delicate process," Doctor Geboren insists. "Not only do the nanobots have to be accepted by the blood, but they must also bond with healthy brain tissue. I must be sure it'll work before we destroy the boy's memories, and I must be sure that the wiping process does not damage the brain for you, my lord."

Ra's nods again. "I trust you to do your best, doctor. And I trust that you may do it faster than anyone else. Otherwise," the hollow voice hardens menacingly, "why would I keep you around?"

Doctor Geboren half-gulps and quickly turns back to his work as the twisted, cloaked form leaves the room.

Terry knows he needs a plan to escape. He knows he should be testing and calculating any spots of weakness in his bonds. He knows he should mentally create a psychological profile of Doctor Geboren and see what he can exploit in order to make liberation more likely. He knows he cannot forget Bruce's training.

But, for now, all Terry can do is swallow a pain in his throat as a tear streaks down the side of his face. "Dad…" he whispers, and is not quite sure whose memory he's calling out to.

.

.

"And… and you've known all this time?" Dick finds himself asking, the anger boiling familiar in his guts.

"Not all this time," Bruce corrects. "After the first time Terry had a major injury, I drew blood to keep some spare."

Dick nods. He remembers Bruce's lessons—always be ready for an emergency transfusion. "And you logged it in the computer."

Bruce nods. "The computer runs an automatic profile so that I don't have to enter all information by hand. It logged a partial match for both myself and Damien. It wasn't until I took a closer look that I found traces of Cadmus tampering. A call in to Wallor confirmed the rest."

Dick scowles. "And you never told Terry?"

Bruce's hand tightens on his cane, but his face remains impassive. "The memory of Terry's father means the world to him. This information was… an unnecessary complication."

"He deserved to know, Bruce!" The anger explodes in Dick now, fitting to him like an old glove. "Or were you just afraid that he wouldn't want to fight the great fight anymore? That your war wouldn't have a soldier all over again?"

"That's not why—" Bruce starts.

"Excuse me. I need to be alone for a moment."

The sound of Jason's voice startles Dick a bit. He hadn't remembered that Jason was just standing there. He had, after all, been uncharacteristically silent for the whole conversation. Now the second Robin's voice sounds harsh, strained. He turns away abruptly, disappearing into the shadows of the cave's caverns before Dick has a chance to reply.

"What is that about?" Dick wonders aloud. Silence is his only response. Bruce turns purposefully back toward his computer.

"If it is Ra's al Ghul and he is trying to use the nanobot research and technology from WayneTech, Star Labs, and Lexcorp, then it's worth cross-referencing known League of Assassins connected locations with the space needed for such a project."

"Uh, yeah," Dick agrees. "You should do that. I'm… I'll be right back."

Dick follows Jason's path, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. He remembers one of his first visits back to the cave after Jason had taken over the mantle as Robin. Dick and Bruce had yelled at each other for almost an hour, the way they often found themselves doing once Dick joined the Titans, but this fight had surprisingly found itself resolved. He remembers that Bruce had placed a hand on his shoulder and finally admitted, "I am proud of you. You know that, right? And you are always welcome here at the manor."

Dick hadn't known that, actually, but he didn't say so. Instead, he had pulled Bruce into a hug. The Batman had never been much of a hugger—had never really been able to express many more emotions than pain and anger—but he let himself be hugged when Dick needed it and when the situation was forced.

It had been over an hour after the fight's conclusion when Dick finally realized that Jason was missing. Bruce had been furious, assuming that Jason had snuck out of the house to cause trouble somewhere—something he apparently had done before, Dick gathered. But something caused Dick to search the cave and its connected caverns. There, he had found the young teen, sitting on the cold, stone ground with his knees pulled up to his chest. The second Robin had tried to put on a tough face, but his eyes were still puffy from crying. "So, am I fired?" Jason had sharply.

"What?" Dick remembers asking.

"You and Bruce, like, made up—right? So, are you back to being Robin? I mean, didn't have the job for long anyway. You can fucking have it." He scowled to the best of his ability, but Dick thought—even in the darkness—that he could see Jason's lower lip quiver.

Dick felt such a sadness and warmth for the kid in that moment—a rarity given how much Jason otherwise got on his nerves. He sat down next to him and put on his best show-stopper smile. "No," Dick said, "that's your name. I'm Nightwing now. Nothing's going to change that. Promise."

Jason had looked skeptical, but relieved all the same. For a while, they just sat there in the dark. Looking back, the memory is one of the few Dick has where he feels like he and Jason were actually brothers.

Now, Dick retraces that memory and finds himself in almost the exact same spot. And there is Jason, sitting on the cold ground, his knees pressed against his chest.

"Didn't need you to come back here," Jason mutters against his armored knees. "M'not a kid."

"Didn't say you were," Dick replies. "Just wondered what was bothering you." After a few moments of silence, Dick continues. Silence, after all, has never been one of his strong suits. "It does hit some old nerves, huh? The way Bruce treats Terry? Always keeping secrets, having to have all the cards. He never did trust any of us to make our own decisions, I don't know why I'd expect it to be different with Terry, but—"

"Terry and I fucked," Jason says in one rushed breath.

The cavern is silent for a long moment before Dick half-sputters and half-yells, "What? Seriously?"

Jason scowls in reply. "Yeah."

"You're old enough to be his father, Jason! He's practically a kid!"

"I know…"

"And he's a bat-kid—basically family!"

"I know…"

"And Bruce would kill you! Not to mention Superman and the Ju—"

"I said I know!" Jason shouts, his voice echoing off the rounded cavern walls. "Jesus, Big Bird, you think you're saying anything that didn't cross my mind a thousand times? Look, I know it wasn't my best idea, but if we're being honest it probably wasn't my worst either. Terry's just..." Jason hesitates for a moment. "Well, he's a good kid. You know that. And he made me feel… better about who I was, I was like he was helping me get over some of my issues. When I was around Terry I felt, well, happy. Like kind of saved or something stupid like that. I thought it meant something. Like I was over being fixated on Bruce."

Dick winces. "Oh."

"Yeah—oh." Jason rubs his forehead and sighs. "I just don't know what to do with this right now. Bruce's clone? I mean… Jesus."

"Partial clone," Dick corrects with a half-smile that just earns him a blinding glare from Jason. "Look, you know what you do? Don't worry about it for now. We need to help find Terry and make sure the kid's alive. Then you can worry about the weird incestual Bat-daddy-issues thing."

Jason looks up, one eyebrow raised. "Shit. Grayson? Have I mentioned recently that I really hate you?"

"Somewhat recently," Dick admits.

"Probably not recently enough though. Well, I hate you. I mean, you are totally and completely right in this situation. But I still hate you."

"Noted," Dick sighs. He has the urge to sit down next to Jason, to offer him some sort of brotherly support like he did all those years ago. Instead, he just offers a hand and helps to pull Jason to his feet. In a way, he feels like it's the same thing.

"Does Bruce know?" Dick asks. He wonders how many secrets they all try to keep from each other and realizes that it is likely far too many.

Jason shrugs. "He's Batman. Who the fuck ever knows what and how much he knows?"

They walk out of the caverns in silence, only to be greeted by Bruce unloading a series of fairly nasty looking weapons from a storage cabinet.

"What are those for?" Jason asks, hiding the tension in his voice fairly well, though Dick suspects it's not enough to fool the World's Greatest Detective.

"You, I assume," Bruce replies. "A building connected to the League of Assassins has been pulling a great deal of power from the grid lately. It matches WayneTech's report of the approximate amount of power needed to keep nanobots stable. I've sent the location to the Justice League, but—"

Jason steps forward and takes a black-sheathed katana sword from the table in front of Bruce. "How fast can I get there?"

"Jason!" Dick snaps. "You're about to fall over. When did you last even sleep?"

"I'm fine," Jason responds.

Bruce half-nods. "I mentioned that you would likely want to go with the League to try and get Terry. Superman said he was concerned about your… aggression when you went to investigate the temple."

Jason scowls. "Well, you can tell Supes to fuck off—or, hell, I'll tell him! I'll play the nice game if I can, but if it means the difference between saving Terry from Ra's al Ghul or not, I know what I'll choose. Got a problem with that, Bruce?"

Bruce is silent a moment before saying, "I don't agree with your code, just as you don't agree with mine. But I can't go out there—so you'd better bring him back safely. Regardless of what choices you make."

Jason looks stunned for a moment before he masks his expression into something cold and determined. "I will."

"Jason," Dick interrupts. "I said 'help' find Terry. You don't need to take this on alone. Stay here and heal up—I'll go with the League."

Dick barely sees the sword move from its sheath before it's at his throat. Even injured, Jason is fast. "See? I can do this," Jason insists. Then his voice lowers, softens as he re-sheathes the sword. "I have to do this."

After a few more moments of weapon gathering and Bruce explaining some of the newer, higher tech options, a Justice League boom-tube opens in the cave. Dick can't quite explain his anxiety as Jason steps into the blinding brightness, but he suddenly wishes he had taken a moment to say "Be careful, brother" as Jason disappears from sight.

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TO BE CONTINUED…