A/N: So, long time no see! Sorry it took so long to update. I just started my first full time job and it's so draining, I just haven't found the time to write much. This chapter has been sitting finished on my computer for two weeks now though and I only just now had time to publish it. Ugh. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think of it!
The al Ghuls were an ancient family, prominent and long-lived and powerful in the underworld niche that they had made for themselves in the shady business of assassin work. They had survived coups and persecution and assassination attempts throughout the centuries by staying true to the three main principles of their family, passed down from generation to generation for more than three millennia.
The first principle was something each child born into the family learned from a very young age; you may not be able to control everything around you, but you can control yourself and your emotions and refuse to allow them to be your weakness.
The second principle was something that each member of the family knew well, too; the amassment of wealth and power is paramount to the survival of the family.
And the third principle was that even if you despise each other, even if you tear at each other's throats and scheme to kill them, in the end, family is all you truly have. You may not trust them or like them, but they will remain loyal in times of trouble where others will gladly stab you in the back.
Talia had to admit that she may have been slightly lax in the raising of her son, allowing her quest for power and recognition of her own, separate from her father's legacy, to take precedence before her own child. Instead of being a source of love and care, she had been a distant onlooker, allowing him to be trained as her father had seen fit. As such, her boy had been put through Hell as a young child, forced to prove himself before he was ready.
One good thing she had to admit to, however, was that he had been trained in the principles of their family, just as thoroughly he had been taught to kill a man or walk silently or fight someone four times his size.
Because of this, Talia had to admit that she had never truly heard her child's voice filled with much emotion. As such, she felt her heart stutter in her chest when she answered her phone only to hear her child so audibly shaken and distraught, voice choked with tears. He sniffled pathetically when he told her about Jason, how the Joker had taken him, hurt him once more.
With promises of her imminent arrival, she set her phone down in a daze, mind racing through the possibilities. Her blood was boiling in her veins, body tense and shoulders hunched as she attempted to calm down enough to plan her next step.
After a few minutes in which she allowed her fury to destroy half of the room, Talia stood in the midst of the wreckage with a clear head, her fury something tangible and bubbling that she shoved far to the back of her mind for the moment, left to fester while she worked with cool detachment. Talia alerted her second in command to assume her duties before stalking off to board the first available flight to America. In her impatience, nothing was fast enough, and the commercial airline she was forced to use only served to fray her thin temper just that much more.
Half a day later, Talia al Ghul was finally touching down in Gotham City. She spent another exhausting hour waiting in line and then arguing with the man behind the desk at the car rental agency before she was finally on the road, more than ready to murder a clown and slap her Beloved upside the head for being so ridiculously dense.
At this point, she wasn't even surprised to find that the front door to the Manor was unlocked. Without bothering to knock or wait on the elderly butler to invite her in, Talia opened the door and let herself in. She could hear voices echoing down to her from the kitchen but she ignored them, taking to the stairs unimpeded.
Once she reached the landing, she followed the sound of voices, her Jason's soft, hesitant words overlapped by her Beloved's booming anger. When she opened the door to Jason's room, she found her stupid idiotic bullheaded Bruce Wayne looming over the child of her heart with bleeding knuckles and a scowl marring his beautiful face. Jason spat a wad of blood at Bruce's feet, his eyes showing his betrayal and hurt but also his resignation, as if he hadn't expected anything less, and her heart screamed, all of her pent-up fury and fear and anger spilling forth from the hole she had thrown it in.
She didn't bother yelling, nor did she scream or cry or demand answers right then and there like she so desperately wished to. No, instead she eyed Bruce with cool indifference and a slow-beating scorn, saving all of her fire and rage for the private conversation she planned to have with Bruce goddamn Wayne.
She stood framed in the doorway, her eyes dancing dangerously. He took her in and then turned back towards Jason, his eyes wide as if he had only just realized what he had done. Regret was quickly overtaking the anger in his dark eyes and Talia scowled, dragging him from the room behind her. He followed her meekly without a word, hesitating at the door to the study, glancing back down the hall at Jason's closed door as if he wished he could take back the last ten minutes.
"Inside, Bruce Wayne. Now." Her tone brooked no argument and he sighed, following her into the study, letting the door slide closed behind him. He hesitated for a moment before striding forward to stand before the window, putting as much space between them as he could while simultaneously avoiding her gaze.
Talia remained by the door, jaw clenched and body tense, one hand pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Neither of them seemed to know where to begin, too much hovering between them unsaid.
"I am furious with you," Talia finally exploded, her hand flying forward to wave viciously at the air between them, her voice devoid of emotion or tone, simply too exhausted to try any longer. "What have you done, Bruce?" she hissed, steadily making her way across the room towards him, crowding in on his space until he was pressed right up against the wall, facing her awkwardly, trying to keep his gaze on anything but her. "You giant bumbling oaf, what have you done?"
"Me?" Bruce finally hissed back, incredulous and angry and shocked as he pulled away from her, finally looking at her face just so he could scowl right back at her. "And what about what you've done? You," he shook his head and started again, "we have a child together, and in all these years you never once breathed a word of him to me. You just hid him away, taught him to kill. You knew I wouldn't approve of the way he was raised. You know how I feel about murderers."
Talia's spine snapped straight and she threw her shoulders back, the silence stretching out between them for a long moment before she scowled at him, cold and dangerous. "And yet," she snapped, "at one point you professed that you loved me, a murderer. You said you did not care about my past, as long as I worked to do better, to be better in the future. You would put that kind of faith in me, but not in your own child? A boy you know absolutely nothing about?" This man left her writhing in frustration, his logic and emotions never agreeing on any one thing.
Bruce scowled back at her, his arguments failing him beneath the weight of her words.
"And what exactly was that, that I walked in on?" she demanded, moving on. "Jason is already injured! Why in the world would you harm him further? What is wrong with you?"
Bruce grumbled in anger, stepping forward and crowding up against Talia himself. "Jason knew," Bruce said, his deep growl more Batman than Bruce Wayne. "He knew about Damian and yet he didn't tell me. He knows me!" Bruce howled, arms thrown to the side in frustration. "He knows me, he knows how I would have felt about all of this."
"Yes, he does know you," Talia agreed coolly, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, pressing up against him, refusing to be cowed by his sheer size. "But it isn't his fault he didn't tell you. When Damian came to stay with him, I asked Jason not to tell you the truth. I didn't want to put that pressure on him, and he was worried, anyway. He had his own concerns about the situation but in the end, he did as I asked." Bruce opened his mouth, ready to argue with her further, but Talia brutally cut him off. "Neither I nor Jason wanted to see another little Robin following Batman into danger only to wind up dead, Bruce," she stated bluntly, Bruce's face swiftly draining of color as he stumbled backwards.
Bruce fell silent, looking more surprised than angry as he visibly began to calm down. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly before he finally spoke again, voice shaken and filled with horror. "What?" he whispered, shaken and confused. "I wouldn't have made him do a damn thing. I would be lucky to have a child that wanted nothing to do with this life."
"Yes, you would. However, Damian was raised to defend himself and the people around him. He would not have been content to sit by while you and the rest of your family disappeared every night. He would not have been able to live with himself, and you know it." Talia's face slowly softened, her body relaxing as she spoke fondly of her son. "He has said often, ever since her was little, that he would one day fight at your side. At least with Jason, I knew he would be as safe as he could realistically be."
After a moment of loaded silence between them, Talia sighed, moving to sit down on the sofa across the room, leaning back in something as close to a slouch as she ever got. She rested her hand on her forehead, shaking her head in resignation.
For whatever reason, Bruce began to move forward, whether to comfort her or reprimand her, she couldn't say for sure. Talia growled, though, stopping him in his tracks as she sliced her hand through the air once more, raising her head to glare at the wall just so she wouldn't have to look at his stupid, wounded face.
"No. You will not touch me. You will not touch Jason. I don't care that you weren't thinking or that you were angry. You will not come near him or Damian. I am taking Jason and I am taking Damian and we are leaving."
She stood abruptly, storming from the study, and left Bruce staring after her, ignoring his pathetically lost face as she left.
He looked as young and wounded as he had the summer they spent together. His expression remnant of something that had once made her feel something other than hate and ambition and fear.
She couldn't seem to find it within herself to care this time, though, or to scrounge up an ounce of pity for him and his sad face.
Not this time.
Damian had been sharing a surprisingly civil conversation with Grayson and Drake in the kitchen when he had heard the front door snap open. Damian, having been expecting his mother's arrival, ran out of the room to catch up with her but was too slow. He saw the end of her coat at the top of the staircase and followed after her, freezing when he heard her icy voice coming from Jason's room. He hid behind a wind in the hall, reveling in the sound of his mother's furious voice, an odd thing to miss, he knew, but it was true.
When the door to the study clicked shut behind his mother and father, Damian ran down to Jason's room, finding his brother and Pennyworth still there, both looking shocked as they stared at the doorway. Jason's white teeth were inexplicably covered in bright red and Pennyworth reached out to dab at his ward's mouth, only to have Jason gently push him away, a careful smile stretched across his face even as he winced.
"What happened?" Damian asked breathlessly, a horrific picture already forming in his mind, the raised voices and his mother's palpable anger slotting into place. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as he looked between the butler and his brother, catching sight of the fresh blood splattered across the floor and easily putting two and two together.
"Damian, I'm fine," Jason said, smirking with false cheer and fooling absolutely no one. "Bruce and I just had a bit of a disagreement. He, uh," Jason hesitated, taking a moment to tongue at a possibly-loose tooth before shrugging it off and tuning back into the conversation, "he knows who you are. Wasn't too thrilled that I hadn't told him sooner, though." Jason winced again when he prodded at his cheek and felt a sharp jab of pain but flashed Damian a quick grin all the same.
His blood froze in his veins and Damian scowled, body tense and furious. His brother's explanation was proof enough for Damian to instantly despise his father and all he said he stood for. The man from his mother's stories, the man that wanted nothing more than to keep his city safe, could not possibly be the same man that had just injured his already miserable son, just for keeping secrets from him.
"We're leaving," Damian declared without a second thought, already moving forward to shove Jason's odds and ends back into the backpack Grayson had brought them earlier in the day. "We will not impose on Bruce Wayne's questionable hospitality a moment longer. As soon as Mother is finished speaking with him, we'll be ready to go." Damian kept his back to the others as he outlined their plan, shoulders hunched up around his ears as he worked stiffly. He knew Jason, if not Pennyworth, would be worried if they could only see his face; he felt tears threatening to fall and his throat was quickly closing up.
This was not how he thought he would meet his father.
Finished, Damian threw the packed backpack at Jason's head before sprawling down next to him on the bed, crossing his arms and scowling at the wall. Jason sighed, unsure how to fix the situation and, honestly, a little tired that he always had to clean up Bruce's messes like this. He looked up, trading an awkward look with Pennyworth before throwing his hands up and settling back to wait.
They didn't have long to wait: Talia reappeared a few minutes later, face hard as she scowled. Her blazing eyes softened just a smidge when she turned away from the hall to look down at her boys huddled there together on the bed.
"Jason," she said softly, a tight smile stretched across her exhausted face. She took a few steps forward, coming to stand just beside the bed. "Oh, look at you, my poor boy." She rested her open hand on his reddened cheek and Jason let himself lean into it gratefully for just a moment before forcing himself to move on.
"Talia, we can't leave. Not like this," he argued, already knowing this was a losing battle but having to at least try. "Sure, Bruce screwed up, but so did we. This whole thing could have been handled better."
"Perhaps," Pennyworth interjected, face sour but resigned, "it would be best for everyone to have some time away from each other." He kept his voice quiet but the reluctance was hard to miss. "Master Bruce will require some time to process this new information before he can think about the way he has acted. I believe we would all be better off letting him calm down before attempting any kind of confrontation."
"Sounds like a plan, Alfie, but I don't think I can get anywhere by myself right now," Jason admitted grudgingly.
"We can help with that," Grayson said from the doorway, his face scarlet with indignation but voice tinged with resignation, as well. "We heard what happened. We'll help you into Talia's car. Do you have somewhere to stay in the city?" Grayson asked Talia, no sign of distrust or suspicion marring his words. Everyone knew he had never liked her much, but they also knew he understood that she was important to Jason and Damian. She had helped Jason through a difficult time in his life and she was Damian's mother.
She couldn't possibly be that bad.
"I have a hotel room rented in the city for the week. Bruce will have that long to pull his head from his ass before we'll be heading back to my father's Compound." Talia wrapped her arm around Jason's shoulders and easily hauled him to his feet, Grayson rushing forward to take Jason's other side.
Drake hovered beside Damian, the kid clutching Jason's backpack with an awkwardly conflicted look on his face now that he was actually faced with a decision. Grayson, Talia, and Jason hobbled out into the hall and down the stairs, Drake and Pennyworth both with supportive hands on Damian's shoulders as his cat pranced after them.
Not one person turned to look back down the hall to see Bruce Wayne skulking in the doorway to the study, staring after them with a blank look and pained eyes.
"Ow, ow, fuckity ow," Jason whined, stretched out in the back of Talia's rented car. The road was bumpy and every pothole they hit jarred another one of his injuries, sending a shockwave of pain lancing through him. "Why are the roads so shitty here? Fuck, doesn't anybody pay taxes in this city?" he groaned.
"Language, brother," Damian chided, but he looked more amused than annoyed as he twisted to smirk at Jason over his shoulder from the front seat.
"I never should have left you two alone with him," Talia fumed from the driver's seat, white knuckling the steering wheel as she glared at the road. Her eyes were distant and furious, bright but so very dark.
Jason hauled himself up as much as he could, worried and exhausted as he was. "Tal, that wasn't your fault. Bruce goes explosive when he's mad, everyone knows that. He just has to cool down and then everything will be peaches and cream again, just like always." He couldn't help it if he sounded just a little bitter about it, because he was.
"He should never have hurt you like that, especially with your injuries. He is a self-centered, hot-headed imbecile and I cannot even stand to think about him at the moment in fear I will do something rash."
Jason smiled but shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Talia, I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm okay. I'm used to being the outlet for Bruce's little hissy fits."
Talia slammed her open palms against the steering wheel, furious at this entire situation. "You shouldn't have to be, though! He is your father. He is the father of my child. He should appreciate that, cherish his children. This is unacceptable behavior, and I cannot believe Pennyworth has allowed Bruce to act this way in the past, as if his moods should be appeased."
"The real world doesn't always work out in the best ways, Talia. I'm sorry, I know how much faith you have in Bruce being a good man."
Talia scoffed in derision and violently threw the car into park. "We're here. Damian, grab the bags. Here is the key to the room. I'll help Jason up to the elevator if you'll get the doors." Damian happily plucked the key from his mother's hand and raced ahead with their meager supplies, impatiently holding the door open for them.
Jason lurched from the back of the car, scowling and holding his side as he nearly tumbled from the back. Talia easily caught him, her strong arms wrapping around his shoulders and hoisting him up.
"This room better have a hella good mattress and hot water and at least, like, three water jets and take out from that awesome Chinese place downtown," Jason grumbled under his breath as he shuffled along beside Talia. She just rolled her eyes and tightened her grip, helping him drag himself up the steps to the lobby. Damian raced around them to get the elevator and stood, tapping his foot as he waited for the doors to slide open.
When they finally made it to the room, Jason could have kissed Talia. It was a large and clean room in one of the more high-end hotels in Gotham, thankfully. She let him collapse right onto the bed instead of insisting he clean up, and he knew that was a struggle for her, as he realized he had to smell horrible by now, still half-covered in blood and dirt from the night before.
Damian wasted no time, crawling up beside him on the bed but keeping his distance, sitting upright beside him and staring at the doorway to the balcony where Talia had disappeared with her cell phone moments after getting Jason situated. The kid was being strangely quiet and Jason was starting to really worry.
"Baby bat, what's going on in that head of yours?" Damian turned to look at him, biting his lip and shuffling uncomfortably.
"Truthfully," Damian said softly, "I thought Father would be… different," Damian whispered, staring at his hands in his lap. "You know, Mother told me stories about him. She always said that he was strong willed and heroic. That he always tried to do the right thing. That he saves people."
"He does, Dami. He saves a lot of people. He just… he doesn't like being lied to and he doesn't like not knowing everything. He either lashes out or gives you the silent treatment when he's mad. You get used to it eventually."
"I suppose I was just expecting something… more." Damian flashed Jason a pained smile and Jason sighed.
"Your father is many things, Damian," Talia said from the doorway, clutching her phone in her hand. "But none of this should have happened, and I take responsibility for it all."
"It's not your fault that Bruce is a dick, Talia," Jason groaned, rolling onto his side and burying his face in the throw pillow behind him. "Just give him a few days to calm down. It'll be fine."
"It will not be fine," Talia hissed fervently, eyes flashing dangerously. She took a deep calming breath, her eyes falling closed for a few moments as she breathed through her fury. She turned back to the boys and smiled sharply, moving on. "Now, what was that you said about Chinese food?"