My Middle Name Is Trouble

by TwinEnigma

Standard Disclaimer - I do not own Young Justice or any of the characters therein. I do not do this for profit, but rather for fun and skills building.

NB: originally posted on the YJ Anon Meme, de-anoning because I've already admitted it was me.

Warnings: AU, spoilers for Auld Acquaintance, Happy New Year, mild language

Part 2

We're sitting in the Mount Justice Medical Bay now, each getting a careful examination after our flight back from the lab (as it turns out, it was in Turkey). The League's core members lurk in the background with my double, wary and watchful. They're right to be cautious and if they were foolish enough not to be, I'd seriously have to back up my – or was it his – threat to leave them to their own devices. As for the members of Young Justice, only M'gann is visibly present, but I know Robin is probably in the room or just outside it. He's bothered by us, I know that, but I don't think he can keep away until he knows why we were made.

Oh, we can guess when we were made. That much is simple. Robin – er, clone… no, my Robin was likely created following Cadmus's recovery from Superboy's breakout. As for me, it turns out that the last day I remember, New Year's Eve, was almost a month ago and the core members of the League had disappeared for sixteen hours that day, sixteen hours which, even now, remained unaccounted for.

Well, maybe not so unaccounted for now.

Except now that I think about it, there's something about this situation that just isn't sitting right with me. Why would they clone me – him and not make the switch? Were they interrupted?

"All triggers removed," J'onn announces solemnly, interrupting my thoughts as he removes his hands from my Robin's head.

He nods, slowly sliding off the exam table, and accepts M'gann's comfort even as he fiddles with the dark sunglasses they'd given him to protect his identity. Myself, I'm not so lucky. The domino mask I'm wearing is one of Icon's. It's not a great fit, but it was all they could find on short notice.

I still feel utterly naked.

"It's your turn," J'onn says.

I don't like the thought of him rooting around in my head, but I nod my assent anyway. Eliminating any hidden threats the both of us present to ourselves and the League is our primary priority.

The second his hands touch my head, my mind goes blank. When I next come to, J'onn is looking at me in bewilderment.

"There are no triggers," J'onn states. "I do not believe there ever were."

Oh.

"Why would they make a clone and not program it?" M'gann asks.

But I already know.

And so does my double.

I'm on my feet and after him even as he turns and runs out of the room, the mantra I'm real beating out with my every footfall. My clone – that's right, he's my clone, he's my clone, I'm real, I'm real - he's fast, but the Batsuit is weighing him down and I'm able to keep up. I know where he's going, too – it's the same place I'd go: home.

That is, unless being discovered has not triggered his programming and he's now headed to the place he was created – or rather, where I was recovered.

Fuck.

I know who made him.

"Xu'ffasch!" I shout.

No response.

"Ibn al Ghul!"

He stops immediately and it's so sudden I almost fall ass over elbow trying not to slam into him. Everyone else, including both Robins, also come to a stop. His – my – the original Robin looks ashen, betrayed.

"He was…" he manages, "You."

J'onn glides closer, past me, and examines my double. "The trance is deep, but I can remove it."

I nod my assent. It's what he – I – we would want.

"I am curious, though," J'onn says, turning his blank red eyes on me. "How did you know what the trigger was?"

I could tell him about my dealings with Ra's.

I could tell him what Ra's sees in me, the man he wants to mold me into.

But I don't. They'll figure it out soon enough, anyway. Besides, we have bigger things to worry about now.

I reach out, disengage the safeties on the Batsuit cowl, and remove it from my clone. "J'onn, when you're done, take M'gann and check the entire League for triggers."

"What about you?" Wonder Woman asks.

I look at the cowl in my hands. "I'm going back to that lab."

I don't have to be a mind reader to know what's on everyone's minds: it's obvious from the looks of discomfort and violation.

I might not be the only one who never really came back on New Year's.

AN: Ra's has indicated in several comics he'd like Bruce to be his son in law, if not his heir, and in one Elseworld, he actually programs a clone of Bruce to refer to him as his father. "Son of the Demon", indeed.