Chapter Text
The start of two boys bonded together through blood, magic and death was a peculiar one.
They weren’t carried through to term by the warmth and nutrients of a mother in the most natural of ways.
No, what One would point out as most peculiar about the two of them, was despite all odds, they survived being grown in a secret unknown lab with a dedicated team of people and their Mother being the one to lead it. Perhaps few might say the two boys, twins, reeking of Lazarus magic might be the oddest thing about them. Such Peculiarities are just a matter of fact for them rather than a thing to earn scorn.
No. Most strange about the two boys however, is how fate has chosen to mark them. How destiny intermingled with their very existence to match fate.
It doesn’t change the fact that they are of a peculiarity. They lean into those qualities and use them as a strength and hide behind the walls they build. It doesn’t change that walls were meant to break down over time.
It doesn’t change anything for these boys.
~ ~ ~
It had taken many long hours to achieve it, but she, Talia Al Ghul, had finally done it!
She stared into the slightly glowing green luminescent tubes growing her two remaining and relatively healthy offspring with a smile. A little crazed and perhaps more manic than an expecting mother should be, but she couldn’t deny the facts. She’d done it.
She’d succeeded.
They’re so tiny floating in their tubes. She could see their little hands, so tiny that they’d be swallowed by a fraction of her own hands. Hands that subconsciously shook at the thought of how precious they’d be. How precious they are. A gift upon the world. A gift to her, babies that would have been near impossible to have conceived.
They’d designed the tubes to shelter them and give them as much as possible like they would have gotten, in her barren womb. They may be small now, but someday they’ll hold the world in their hands. That she was certain of.
The hours she’d poured into researching, consulting (read: threatening) many scientists and researchers in genetics and medicine; stealing copies of classified material from leading researchers on classified genetics projects were not wasted. Luthor wouldn’t even know she’d stolen from him to help make this more viable. It was definitely a process, between combining IVF treatment, with the desperate cloning Luthor was trying to accomplish and harnessing the effects of the pits, to get results with steady strong effects.
She’d been blessed with not one, but two now. Two children. Twins in any other capacity. Technicalities dictated they’d still be twins.
Her beautiful boys.
“Current rate of success?” She asked, voice cold, despite the warm fuzzy feelings that were wafting over her, she kept her tones even. Still sharp and calloused the way she needed to be. The way she was trained to vary herself.
This project had been guided under the desire of wanting proper heirs without the burden or complexities of natural childbirth. A minuscule lie. She couldn’t bear to lose another child inside of her. At least with the tubes it gave her the small distance of a wall between the inevitable failure and her grief.
“It-it is currently a success rate of ninety-three percent for one but as of now, and seventy-seven percent for both, provided there are no further… complications?” A quiet almost cowled response from the mousy little researcher.
They’d been recruited (read blackmailed and kidnapped) for this project due to their expertise. Shame they were such a cowardly source. The chances of the researcher surviving after their experiment is done, much less the plausibility of leaving were low. Much lower than the specimens— her babies. Talia couldn’t feel it in her to feel sympathy for the wretched thing despite the assistance in helping the process along.
“Keep it that way. Any complications will be paid for by sacrifice.” She reminded, tilting her face so her jade eyes looked sharper. A clear meaning behind her words.
“Of course ma’am!” The researcher squeaked, ducking their head down.
Talia gave them one last look before turning on her heel and walking out the the research bay they’d set up for the twins to make her way to leave the compound. She had an assignment to do.
Her team still wasn’t sure why the embryo had split like it had; but she couldn’t be anymore thankful for it. Thankful for the success. There were low rates of them failing at this time. The success rates were in the higher numbers, the highest they’ve ever achieved.
The further they get to them maturing as naturally as possible to be out of their incubation stage, to be breathing air instead of soaking a concoction of Lazarus Water that mocked amino fluids of being in a natural womb, the sooner she’ll be able to hold her boys. the sooner the fruits of her efforts would be available for consumption. Sure, she’d manipulated their genes enough to ensure certain outcomes, but that was to be expected. Any mother with the opportunity would do so.
Her heart still ached for all her failed attempts. They were her children too, but it’d be seen as a weakness should she express that much sentimentality. She wouldn’t dare mention to anyone that she’d carefully buried each of them in a safe location. A stone etching for each of them. As far as anyone was concerned, these experiments, those boys— her boys, they’re only a means to an end to ensure the direct Al Ghul line keeps flourishing.
Either way, she’d have healthy beautiful boys now. To be born of herself and that of her Beloved, the Bat.
Even her father had seemed pleased, for the first time in months. She’d endure anything he throws at her for her sons. She’s loyal to the ideals they strive for, And loyal as long as her father kept the deal.
As long as she’d take her missions without argument, trained her sons just as hard as they should be trained; he’d allow her to be a mother to them. She’d felt something shift her center, a gentle pride combined with an excitement at the opportunity. A promise to her father that they’d need both should something happen to one that they’d always have an heir to the Al Ghul name.
It was also a weakness she hoped she would never feel bad for having exposed to her father. One she’ll have to plan carefully around without her whole hand being exposed. She already knows things won’t be easy and they’ll continually be used against her, but she’ll prepare for that. Prepare them to be as safe and protected as possible without coddling them. She’d risk everything, every mission, every exposure to the pits, as long as she could have babies.
Any mother should make those sacrifices too.
She’ll have to make sure they both know their father loves them. What kind of man he is. His flaws and respectable qualities. She hopes one day, her sons will have the chance to meet him. Preferably at a time when they’re less malleable to her beloved’s methods and ideals. Just enough that either could take over for the Al’ghul line when it comes to it.
Bruce will likely resent her, of course. Especially since she’d told him their child had died in the womb. Which had been true. But he’ll probably welcome the additions to his family. Be Thrilled even. eventually. He could see him loving them just as much if not more than he does his little… ward. Her family will come first however. She vows that she will train them before she ever allows Bruce to meet them.
She won’t pretend his grief didn’t play a part in hers. That she didn’t go on a desperate quest that hadn’t even held the viability of possibility out right. But she’d held onto her beliefs and now she’ll watch them grow. She’ll make sure they’re ready to take on the responsibilities expected of an Al Ghul with pride and face the world.
And thus starts the official story of two boys whose lives are filled with more tragedies than ancient myths intermingled with complexities only a master of Time could see and predict. Lives forged and created in the deep magics of The Lazarus waters. Lives that converge and diverge like the sea on the shorelines of coastal cities, swallowing grains of sand before dispersing them back into the depths of oceans.