Chapter 1

The sleek black car zoomed across the streets, reflecting the lights overhead on it's shiny exterior as it passed. Inside a dark haired boy stared out the window, sullenly. His short hair was slightly askew and the bruise on his handsome young face was sure to get darker by the nights end.

He scowled at the person in the driver's seat.

"I still don't know why Bruce sent you."

Dick Grayson rolled his blue eyes for about the forth time that hour. He steadied his hands on the wheel of the car and tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, "Trust me, It wasn't on the top of my list of things to do tonight either. You ran off with his car Damian, what did you think he was going to do?"

"I had everything under control," Damian Wayne protested.

"Not from where I was standing. You seemed, how do I put this? A little overwhelmed."

"I'm more than capable of taking care of a few hooded freaks. Thank you."

"Certainly didn't look that way." Dick eyed him as he continued, with a shake of his head, "It's a good thing Bruce was too busy to get away," Being all the way in China tended to put Bruce Wayne a bit far away from home, "I don't think he'll have too many nice words for you when we get back. Tim was supposed to-"

"Tim Drake is only one person and he's hardly able to tie his own shoes much less watch over a whole City."

Being the resident genius of the family, Tim Drake was more than capable of the task Damian dismissed him of, not that Damian would ever see it that way.

"Bruce is trying to cage me," Damian hit the dashboard and ground through his teeth, "I've had that damn cast on for six weeks and now that it's finally off, he still thinks I'm some kind of invalid."

"He's your father," Dick reasoned, "He worries about you and obviously he was right thinking you weren't ready just yet," His eyes flashed to Damian's, "You weren't."

"I think you treat me more like a child than he does," Damian grumbled.

"You are a child, Damian. And," Dick's mouth lifted, "you took the car."

"Don't patronize me about the damn car, Grayson," Damian folds his arms, "and I don't see what age has to do with it. It doesn't matter how old I am or what I do," he sighed, "he still thinks I need babysitting."

"Well I am a very good babysitter," Dick joked.

"Yeah right," Damian snapped with sarcasm. He glared back out the window, sullenly, "I don't know why I bother trying, it's not like I'll ever live up to being like the perfect Dick Grayson, no matter what I do."

Dick pondered the word, "Perfect huh? Clearly you've only heard half the stories," He paused and glanced at Damian's frown, with a smile of his own, "How many times do you think I ran off with the car?"

Damian's dark brow rose, "Surely not."

Dick nodded, "Even wrecked it once," He laughed at the memory, "Bruce was so mad at me he couldn't see straight for a week."

Damian considered this, but ultimately shrugged it away, "It still stands what I said. You and Bruce you both treat me like I'm incapable of doing things on my own. I'm tired of being treated like the second fiddle all the time. I'm not some two bit amateur that needs to be supervised every second."

"It may surprise you to hear this," Dick said still smirking somewhat, "But I actually felt the same way sometimes."

Damian watched him, but didn't say anything.

Dick took the turn into the hidden path that led to the cave. A long twist of a drive that led to a dead end. Yet, buried under the earth, where no one would expect such a thing to exist, the ground opened up before them. It happened so perfectly the car didn't even have to slow down to make it through in time.

The car continued down the path finally ending at the circular platform created especially for it. The engine died, leaving the echos of its purr to fill the confines of the cave.

Damian all but leapt from the seat as the doors opened upward, eager to escape Dick or the car, possibly both. Dick frowned as he watched the boy shoulder's tense as he walked, all but stomped away. His injuries weren't too serious, but it was obvious, through a slight limp, Damian was still healing and shouldn't have been out doing such physical activities in the first place.

Dick knew all too well Damian's mind set and he could hardly blame the boy. Dick also knew if it had been Bruce dealing with Damian's situation, he'd have been out there too. Like father, like son. Which was why Bruce got angry so easily. Damian and Bruce were more similar than either of them liked to admit.

Dick wondered if he was ever so frustrating for Bruce as Damian was now. He certainly didn't remember their relationship being so strained at that age. Not until Dick was well into his teens did they start actively arguing like Bruce and Damian did now.

Poor Bruce was in for some hell when Damian reached that golden age of puberty. Even after mentoring three orphaned boys in varying states of maturity, it was looking like the mighty Bruce Wayne might not survive his own son's transition into adulthood. Bruce had a fight on his hands and Dick did not envy him in the slightest.

With a hum of boredom, Dick checked the computers, glancing for anything that might catch his eye as important. Truth was Bruce had called him in the middle of a date and while he was eager to finish the evening with the beautiful Rose Morgan, the chances were that shipped had sailed. It didn't seem right to run back to her now after making such a valiant excuse of helping his sick little brother to break the date in the first place. He'd make it up to her next time.

Dick skimmed, but found nothing of interest. He drummed the panel in front of him to a tune stuck in his head. Some song Dick didn't know the words to.

Something moved behind him. A bat, caught in some kind of machinery, no doubt. He often joked that Bruce took the whole bat thing a little too far, but Dick didn't honestly didn't mind the creatures too much. Though he wouldn't say he openly liked them or that he was planning on taking any home with him or anything, they were definitely good for ambiance if nothing else.

The intercom cracked to life on his screen and Damian's face filtered through, "Grayson, we have a problem. You might want to get up here." He sounded annoyed, but his face was tight. Worried. "As in right now."

Dick's heart jumped, "Damian, what is it? What's wrong?"

"It's-" Damian faltered and gave a small growl to something at his left, "It's Pennyworth and I'm not really sure but something is-" something or rather someone tried to push him out of the way, but Damian held his ground, pushing the attempted intruder back.

"Alfred?" A spike a panic rose at the name, "What's wrong with Alfred?"

A familiar if slightly out of breath voice came through, though Dick couldn't see the speaker, "Dickie, for once in your life just shut your giant trap and listen to baby brat here," Damian growled at the unseen intruder, "and get that perky little ass of yours up here."

Dick blinked. It was a voice he hadn't heard in quite some time, "Is that-" He was so surprised he couldn't even finish.

Damian looked more than a little aggravated, he grit his teeth, "Trust me, I wish it wasn't. Please get up here before I have to strangle him. And believe me, if he irritates me any further, I will." He fumbled a bit before he cut the communication.

"What about-" Dick's question fell on an empty screen, "Alfred?"

Dick slammed the arm of the chair, angered at being cut off and more than a little confused, "Dammit."

He could ask several questions, the most important one being what the hell Jason Todd was doing in the manor, but right now Alfred was Dick's main concern.

What could possibly have happened?

Dick needed to find out.

The first thing Dick saw when he entered the room turned his blood cold.

Alfred-oh no.

Alfred Pennyworth lay on a couch bloodied and bruised, looking far too pale. His face was slack and looked far too hollow. He looked like a ghost. He looked almost-

"Oh my god," Dick flew closer to the prone body. He was stopped halfway by two strong arms and an even stronger grip keeping him in place. He struggled against the hold and found himself looking into the slightly wild blue eyes of Jason Todd. The younger, but larger man held tight as Dick attempted to throw him off.

"Get off me, Jason. Get the hell off me." Alfred, Dick needed to get to Alfred.

Jason didn't let go. His voice was low, an attempt to be soothing, "Calm down Dick. It's bad, I know it's bad. But I swear it's not what it looks like-"

Dick continued to struggle. Alfred was, he looked so pale and still, it really did look bad. Dick's anger boiled at the sight, "I said get off me! What did you do?" His voice choked, "What did you do to Alfred?"

"It wasn't me I swear it wasn't. I-"

"Master Dick, I really do think you ought to calm down."

Dick turned and swore he saw stars from moving too fast. Alfred Pennyworth-another Alfred Pennyworth-the (real?) Alfred Pennyworth-gave him a tight smile and a pat on the arm as he passed, holding what looked to be the world's largest first aid kit.

"I've done what I can," Alfred speaks to the both of them, "I'm afraid he's lost a lot of blood and there's not much to do now but wait."

Dick blinked at the butler as he passed. His eyes went from the Alfred laying on the couch to the Alfred standing over him. The sight of two Alfred's, one injured and the other taking care of a man who could be his double, the image made Dick's head hurt.

Dick finally pulled himself from Jason's grip. He took a step towards the two Alfreds, but had to stop. It was too much to process without an explanation. Seeing them both together like that, it was too strange. "Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on here?"

"Apparently Todd found another Pennyworth," Damian said with disgust. Dick hadn't noticed he was there. Damian looked at the injured Alfred like he was some kind of abomination that needed to be destroyed, "And brought him here to bleed on the furniture."

"He was just laying there, just looking like-" Jason's head shook, eyes dark at the memory. "I thought Alfred was dead in the street, sue me for bringing him here. Next time I'll just leave him there to rot," Jason sneers at the younger boy.

"You did the right thing Master Jason," Alfred threw a reproachful look at Damian, "Though, I'll admit it was quite startling to see at first. Imagine, opening the door to see yourself standing there."

"Bit startling to see you answer the door," Jason admitted, "I thought for sure it was you I was carrying."

Alfred tutted, "No matter their identity, this is definitely something to be commended for. Bringing them here was the right thing to do."

"Them?" Dick asked. Was there another doppelganger injured on another couch somewhere? Was it another Bruce or Tim or Damian or Dick shuddered-him? He was almost afraid to ask, "There was someone else? Who?"

Jason shook his head, "No clue."

"Are they hurt too?" Dick asked, "It looks like whatever happened to him," he pointed to the other Alfred, "he had to put up quite a fight."

"No, it's not that they're hurt. I just didn't know how to ask," Jason scrubbed at his short scruffy hair, a sign of agitation, annoyance, "and he wouldn't stop crying so I didn't really bother trying to hard."

Dick's brow shot up, "Crying? Is he okay?"

"If you can get him to answer that, be my guest," Jason swept his hand towards the other chair in the room, then frowned. It was empty. He looked around in search of the missing person and turned on Damian, "Hey, where is he?"

"Don't ask me," Damian crossed his arms.

"I thought you were keeping an eye on him," Jason growled.

"Well you thought wrong," Damian snipped back, "You brought him here and that makes him your responsibility, not mine."

"Dammit," Jason cursed, "Where did he get off to?"

"Pennyworth," Damian snapped the name, "This should be your area of expertise. I suggest you go look for him."

Alfred looked back passively, "I'm afraid my hands are a bit full right now, Master Damian," He sounded as proper as ever, but his words had bite, "Perhaps you could put forth the effort yourself. He can't have gone too far."

"Who?" Dick felt more than a little left out. Jason, Damian and Alfred they all knew something, he didn't. "Who are we looking for?"

Something fell, cutting off what would be Jason's reply. They all stared in the direction it seemed to come from. Somewhere near or probably more likely in the kitchen. It sounded like-Dick blinked.

"What is that?"

Jason took off without an answer and Dick and Damian followed him.

Dick's mind rattled with questions. None of the answers he could concoct about the other Alfred's appearance where anything he wanted to dwell on. Every response he could think of only seemed to get worse and worse the more he thought on it.

The sounds continued. It sounded like-pans? Doors opening and closing? It sounded loud if nothing else.

"He's touching Pennyworth's cookware." Damian announced with a frown, "he isn't going to like that."

"Maybe he's trying to make dinner?" Dick ventured in a half joke. He still had no idea who they were looking for.

Jason's mouth twisted upward, "More like trying to start a band."

They reached the kitchen, where all the bottom cabinets had been thrown open. Dick stared, because the scene was more than a little odd. Spooky even. He entered the room tentatively, "Why does this feel like the beginning to a horror movie?"

"Just don't play the dumb bimbo like you usually do and you'll be fine." Jason grinned, "They always die the worst, you know."

Dick glared at him.

Jason squatted down in front of one of the cabinets and spotted something moving within, "There you are." He grabbed the squirming form out of the small space. It let out a small sound of protest, but it was gargled and not any word Dick could recognize.

Jason came away with a small bundle of arms and legs that thrashed solidly against him. The small chubby limbs were part of a small body, all which tried to escape Jason's hold. The efforts were fruitlessness as Jason held tight and the small face crumpled at its captivity and starting to wail.

"Shit, not again."

A child. Jason held a child. A small child who couldn't be more much more than a year and a half old.

It was-unexpected to say the least.

Dick wasn't sure what to think, so he simply stared transfixed at the tiny form throwing what had to be the world loudest tantrum.

Jason held the small boy like he was holding a bomb ready to explode at any second, "Know how to turn it off?" He asked Dick almost frantically.

Dick shook his head. The child continued to cry. They all stared helplessly as the child's face grew redder and redder and the wailing increased in volume.

"Maybe it finds you offensive Todd," Damian suggested, "I know I do."

"Probably just your ugly face," Jason snapped back, "Seeing that would make me cry too."

"It can sense evil, I'm sure of it."

"Thus why he cries, oh child of Satan."

Dick wasn't in the mood to watch Jason pick words with Damian or vice versa, especially with a screaming child in the background. It was all a bit too much to handle at that moment and there was still an injured Alfred to think of. "Will you two stop it?" He looked at Jason as he suggested, "Maybe he doesn't want to be held."

As soon as Dick finished speaking, the crying stopped.

It seemed a coincidence, except that the child was looking at Dick as it he hadn't noticed him before.

Two large eyes, more blue than Dick could ever recall seeing before stared at him. They were big and bright and filled with sudden delight as the small face erupted into a giggle and a grin. Two tiny hands reached out for him and Dick took a step back.

Jason looked between the child and Dick in both confusion and relief that the crying had stopped, "Well look at that Dickie, he seems to like you." Jason moved closer, "You should take him."

Jason attempted to hand the child off, but Dick took another step back, and waved his palms outward in a show he didn't want him. "That's alright." Despite his earlier joke, Dick really was no good with handling children, especially one this small, "Just put him down."

The child sensed Dick's unease to take him and stretched his arms at him further with what sounded like a whine. He gurgled some more words, but the sounds turned more urgent as Dick continued to ignore him. His small face threatened more tears incoming.

"What happened to Mr. I'm a great babysitter?" Damian asked snidely, "Take him Grayson. He obviously wants you to."

"I-" Dick hesitated.

Jason's persisted as well, "Dammit Dick, just take the kid already. Before he starts crying again."

Dick stared between Jason and the outstretched child with uncertainty. He finally relented because Jason really gave him no choice and because the child all but flew into his arms the moment he offered them.

The child settled almost naturally on Dick's hip and all signs of any tantrum ceased. He gurgled happily and rather messily into Dick's shoulder.

Dick groaned, "He's drooling."

Jason snickered, "Better on you than me."

"Jason," Dick didn't want to point out the obvious, but it was kind of hard not to, "This is a child."

"It is?" Jason answered with mock surprise. He dropped the act and rolled his eyes, "And you're an idiot. What's your point?"

Dick didn't quite know what his point was, but this all seemed a little odd. He felt worry easing into an already bad situation, "He was with the other Alfred?"

"Well he was crying and refused to let go of him when I found them so I'm assuming so." Jason shrugged, "I just found them Dick, I didn't get the life story or anything. Pretty hard to ask someone anything when all they do is cry." He looked at the child with a small smile, "Little guy sure gets around though." He frowned as Dick pushed past him, purposefully bumping him out of the way, "Hey, where are you going?"

Dick bit his lip, "To wait for Alfred. Not our Alfred, the other one," God, that really made his head hurt, "to wake up." Dick glanced down at the child he held, confusion and unease rising with each second, "This is-we're talking about another Alfred who's been beat to hell and a child. It's safe to say, we need some answers."