Raphael Gale liked to think that he was a pretty normal guy overall. Yeah, his life was a little odd. His dad was a world renowned martial artist who got over a bad divorce by moving himself and his kid from their home in London, to Gotham to open a dojo where he taught kids and teens all day. Raph admitted to himself that his life hadn't been conventional so far. But it wasn't really out of the ordinary to the point where you'd think anyone important would care about him. He was just a 20 something martial artist and history and science buff. There was nothing odd about him. And yet, as far back as he could remember, he's felt as if he were being watched. It was nothing he could identify most times. He just got the sense that at least someone in any crowd he was in was in that crowd specifically because he was there too. It didn't seem like paranoia either. Years ago, Raph had been crossing the street and had forgotten to look before he crossed. A bystander grabbed him just in time to save him from the truck that would've run into him. He could never forget what they told him. "We aren't always going to be here to save you. Don't be careless." The man had walked away afterwards into the crowd and vanished. But it confirmed the sense that Raph had been having. Who was 'we?' Why were they watching him? And what were they waiting for? The biggest sense he got from it was that whoever or whatever was watching him was waiting for something. But he had no idea what.

Neal Gale was in his late 60s and was still in the best shape he could be. But instead of competing these days, he ran a dojo. He got pretty good business, since he was well known. People liked to say he was the best but he scoffed at that. He won most of his competitions by using a special fighting style that he invented himself that was pretty hard to beat. He was well known for it but no one but Neal and his son, Raphael officially knew how to use the style. He refused to teach it to others. He thought it was too powerful and unfair for anyone looking to compete to use it. Raphael had never competed but had been trained since he could walk in martial arts and so now was just about as formidable.

Raph wouldn't say that he hated teaching a few classes at the dojo. But it got a little annoying when kids didn't take things seriously and thought that having yuppie parents meant they could get away with anything. And then they wondered why they weren't picking up on any of the lessons. Martial arts was about discipline. And these kids had none of that.

Which is why he almost groaned out loud when he saw a kid walk into the dojo that outstripped all of those kids in wealth. Bruce Wayne. The richest kid in Gotham. No parents to even tell him no, not that they probably even would if they were alive. It was like Raph's worst nightmare.

"Excuse me. I wonder if you could tell me if Sensei Gale is here at the moment?" the boy asked.

"Not at the moment, no. He's helping a friend move into a new apartment. Are you here about being trained?" Raph asked.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"I'm psychic." Raph joked. Bruce raised an eyebrow and Raph cracked up. "Why else would one go to a dojo?"

"Right." Bruce said, embarrassed. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Who's to say? But if you want, you could train with me a bit." Raph offered, not wanting to be rude but really hoping the kid would say no.

"I need to be trained by the best, no offense. This is something serious for me. It's important." the kid said with a determined look in his eyes that was rather intriguing to Raph. What rich kid ever had that deep a look in his eyes? It was so unlike what Raph thought a kid like this would ever be. This kid was deep and it intrigued him.

"Wow. Not sure whether or not I should be offended or not. Especially since I was trained by the sensei myself since I was old enough to walk, since I am his son and all."

"You're his son?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah. I'm Raphael Gale. No jokes about turtles, please. You can just call me Raph."

"Nice to meet you. I'm..."

"Bruce Wayne. I know. You kind of have a distinctive and popular face." Raph joked lightheartedly.

Bruce smiled. "Yeah. I guess I do."

Just then, two men walked in arguing with each other.

"Are you serious? You're still comparing my fighting style, that I invented myself, to some ancient fighting style? I made this up myself! I don't even study ancient cultures. That's all my kid's interest." said an annoyed looking man in a martial arts uniform.

"You know how it looks though, Neal. It's nearly identical. You must've read up on it and forgot. It can't be coincidence. Look, if you're worried, you shouldn't be. It's a dead fighting style. I doubt anyone but you and your kid practice it."

"That's not the point! I'm not going to have someone say that I ripped this off! I spent several years developing it." Neal said, irritated.

"Dad, don't sweat it. A lot of fighting styles look similar. It doesn't mean they have any connection." Raph said, trying to calm his dad down. "Oh, hey. Have you met Bruce Wayne? Because he wants to see you about something."

Neal had a look at the rich boy standing there. "I'm guessing you are here about lessons?"

"Yes sir." Bruce said.

"Richest kid in the city and yet still so polite. It's a start." Neal said. "You have any experience in martial arts?"

"My butler gave me a few lessons. He was in the British army when he was younger."

"Again, it's a start. We'll see what you can do and see where we need to start you." Neal said. "You can probably join one of Raph's classes."

"Actually, sir, I was hoping you'd train me personally. One on one?"

"One on one? Well, I suppose. Not usually how I do things, but things can be arranged."

"Thank you Sensei." Bruce said. "I'd like to start soon, if that's not too much trouble?"

"Of course. I'll go see where to fit you into my schedule."

A week later and Neal was busy teaching Bruce Wayne. Raph joined their sessions at times, mostly to watch the kid's progress. He never saw such a determined kid. No matter how hard Bruce found a move, he would practice it relentlessly until it was perfect. Why was this kid so determined to train himself how to fight? It didn't make any sense to Raph. Bruce was a rich kid. Why would he need to fight? Bruce, when he wasn't busy practicing, was kind and friendly and very down to earth. And seemed very intelligent for his age. Raph found himself considering Bruce as a friend to some extent after awhile. Despite Bruce's young age, he was very mature and enjoyed intellectual discussions. Raph found himself talking about random Gotham history facts with him.

The only other person Raph spent much time with was a teenaged boy that lived in the Narrows and sometimes did odd jobs for Sensei Neal to pay for his lessons. He didn't care about being the best. He just wanted to survive his neighborhood. Jack was cheerful and didn't let his bad living situation get him down. Raph and Jack would hang out occasionally, maybe smoke some weed if Jack could get his hands on some and they'd talk about random stuff. Jack would talk about the weird stuff that his neighbors or own parents got up to and Raph talked about all the yuppie dojo students and their parents. Jack found them hilarious. Jack wanted so many things he thought he'd never get because of where he lived. He wanted to go to college but never would. He was very smart but not enough of a prodigy that anyone would give him a good enough scholarship. He couldn't afford college otherwise. He also wanted to be an entertainer. But wasn't all that confident in his abilities yet. He just graduated, a few years early, and thought that he'd be lucky to even get a regular, completely legal job with where he lived holding him back.

"It's not fair. I studied so hard to get through school so I could go and do something with my life and I thought that I've done pretty well, and yet I don't qualify for any scholarships that will help me at all. I can't even pay for the fucking text books, much less tuition." Jack complained as he took a drag from a joint. "I'm going to be stuck in the Narrows for the rest of my life. I'm just going to be this boring low level criminal nobody."

"Really? I doubt anything you end up doing will be capable of being boring. You said you wanted to be an entertainer. You don't need a college degree for that." Raph said.

"Yeah, but my confidence is in the toilet. And it's not like that will pay much starting out. What if I want to support a family? No. I need a real job too. Just for now."

"Well, maybe dad can hire you on part time. I don't know." Raph said. "Bruce Wayne still hasn't given up on training. He still comes by the dojo all the time. Determined guy. Maybe you should come by and ask him for a grant or something for college. Or a job. He might not know you but he seems pretty generous with his money."

"I wouldn't be comfortable asking some rich kid for help. That sounds too much like begging. I'll figure something out. Even if I do need to swallow my pride and do something less than legal."

The feeling of being watched got worse over the next few weeks. Raph kept noticing the same people in random places over and over. Way too often for it to be a coincidence. There was a woman that he saw randomly, most often. He'd catch her staring at him from time to time on some random city bus or at a coffee shop. Or at the library. She looked around his own age but seemed to hold herself in such a way that made it seem she was much older. He tried going up to her a few times but every time, before he would get to her, she would disappear. He didn't completely discount the possibility that he was losing it. The weirdest thing about it was that even though she seemed to be following him, he wasn't unnerved by her for some reason.

Raph wasn't an expert in the occult. Far from it. But he did research it as a hobby. And as a way to possibly get some answers to the odd things in his life. Perusing old occult stores was a favorite pastime of his. He rarely bought anything. Most of it was way beyond him. If you weren't an expert, messing with the occult could be dangerous. You could mess with things you didn't understand and couldn't control. So he was extremely wary when the owner of the store he liked the most, pulled him aside to show him some old book.

"Look, I can't really afford to buy something right now. And that looks way beyond me. I'm not sure why you're showing this to me." Raph said, confused at the shop owner's insistence.

"It just seems like something you will benefit from. The spell inside of it is simple enough to attempt. And provides answers. Answers I do believe you might be seeking." the mysterious shop owner said.

"What kind of answers?" Raph asked, a little bit intrigued.

"Any answers you might want to know, I would assume." the man said cryptically.

Raph flipped through the pages of the book. "What language is this even? I can't read it."

"It is ancient Arabic. I can provide a book to help translate it, if you want." the man said. "Please take it. It belongs to you."

"How much?" Raph said, staring at the fascinating, and very old looking book.

"No charge."

"No charge? Why? This looks priceless."

"I insist. It belongs to you. I would not feel right charging you for it. Just make good use of it. That is all I ask."

"What do you mean it belongs to me?" Raph asked, weirded out by the man's cryptic behavior.

The shop owner ignored his question and went and got a book on how to translate ancient Arabic.

"Is that book also no charge?" Raph asked more than a little unnerved.

"No. But it's only twenty dollars." the store owner said.

Raph sighed and got out a twenty dollar bill. "Here. I don't understand why you are just giving me this but thanks." he left the store as fast as he could, not wanting to spend any more time with the normally pretty normal store owner that was now acting extremely odd.

"So what's with the old book?" Jack said as Raph set his messenger bag down and Jack saw the book sticking out.

"I'm not sure actually. I was exploring an old occult shop and the owner just gave it to me." Raph said, frowning.

"Well, that's not shady at all. Better make sure you aren't a horror movie character before you read that. And no reading ancient Latin phrases out loud." Jack joked lightheartedly.

"It's in ancient Arabic not Latin. But I'll keep that in mind." Raph said laughing, and feeling a little less unnerved.

"Well it's an ancient language. Arabic, Latin. What's the difference? Still pretty likely to summon a demon or something, looking like that." Jack said smiling. "Can you even read that?"

"No. I got a translation book for ancient Arabic. The man seemed so insistent that I take this book. I have no idea why." Raph said. "Anyway, changing the subject. What's new with you?"

"Oh ok. Not much is new. I do have a date tonight so yay me. I think her name is Jenny? I keep getting it wrong. I just know I'm going to annoy her with that." Jack said with an embarrassed smile.

"Good luck. Be yourself and you'll do fine."

"Thanks. I may just need all the luck I can get." Jack said.

When Raph got back to his apartment he set the ancient looking book on his desk and just stared at it for awhile. There was something about the book that didn't seem right. It wasn't putting off any actual magical aura. It wasn't that kind of unnerving. No. There was just something about the handwriting and illustrations in the book that seemed familiar. But he had no idea why he felt that. The shop owner had said that the spell in the book would give him answers to questions he had. So was it some sort of oracle spell? Would it give him some magical insight into why people were following him? He set the book aside for awhile, not sure if he should mess with it. Jack was right. Horror movies started like this, with some idiot summoning a demon because he messed with things he didn't understand. He didn't want to be that idiot. He walked away and tried focusing on other things.

But hours later he found himself coming back to the book. It was so tempting. The idea that he could learn some big secrets was too hard to ignore. He knew it was a bad idea to do it but he opened the book and looked through it again. And then found himself taking out the translation book and seeing if he could translate a few things. And then when he found he could translate it rather effectively, he got out an empty notebook and found himself writing out what he translated. The spell seemed simple enough to understand so far, from what he'd translated. It seemed to tap into the building blocks of the universe. But it didn't seem all that dangerous. It was odd that, despite the subject matter being something you'd expect only a high level occultist to understand, the spell itself seemed almost designed specifically for an amateur to be able to figure out. An amateur just like him. It was like it called to him. Like the instructions were written specifically for him. Once he finished translating the book, which only took him a few days, he found himself wondering if he should actually try it out.

Everything in Raph told him that it was a bad idea. And yet he couldn't stop thinking about it. And so he gathered the ingredients and tools he would need for the spell. Not much was required. He was so relieved that nothing rare or expensive was needed. He was so glad he had moved out into his own place the year before. No chance of his dad walking in on him in the middle of the spell and interrupting it. Interrupting any spell was dangerous. He sat in his living room and set up a spell circle. He put everything in place. Then, when it was all in place, he gathered up his courage and started reading the words of the spell out loud. As he was chanting, the lights in his apartment flickered. The air took on an electrically charged quality, making his hair stand on end. Something was definitely happening. So this wasn't just some bullshit. He had a real spell. He spoke the rest of the words. And when he finished, the world suddenly fell away and the pain started.

It was like he was being split into different pieces. And those different pieces were flung in two different directions. While part of him stayed there, in one place, other versions of him were in other places. He could feel each part of him like it was him. It was all still him. But now there seemed to be a few versions of him in other places and times. He could see himself vaguely still sitting on his living room floor, but he also saw himself wake up in the middle of a desert somewhere. And he also woke up in the street in the middle of a very high tech looking city. All at once.

When Raph finally came back to himself he realized what he had done. He had spread himself across history. He remembered all that the ones in the past did. And they did a lot. But he also had a sense of what the ones in the future would do. Time, it seemed, was not as linear as he had thought. And it was all happening at once. The past, present, and future. They weren't in a line at all. It was hard to focus on the here and now. He regretted casting the spell. But realized it was all his fault anyway. At one point he wrote the book himself. Or would write it? It was hard to use tenses. He wrote it in the past so he could cast it in the present. It was like he created himself. The present him hadn't truly realized any of this until the spell was cast. But the spell was already cast as well. It was like an endless loop of confusion. He hadn't done it wrong. It was designed to do exactly what it did. Why had his past self actually wanted this? This sense of being spread thin against a few different timelines. It was maddening. The spell did give him the information he had wanted though. He now knew the ones that were following him around. He knew them very well.

Raph didn't know if he had fully accepted his identity yet, but he knew he couldn't stay away for any longer. At least not from the one he wanted to see most. He wandered the city, waiting for that someone. He knew she wouldn't be long. And then he saw her, the woman that had been following him. He knew who she was now. She started following him as usual and he cut across the street and into an alley. She followed but when she got to the alley, she was confused to find him not there. She looked around surprised. And then the reason he led her to the alley showed up. A few thugs showed up to surround her.

"Honey, you picked the wrong dark alley. Hand over your valuables and we might go easy on you." one of the thugs said smugly, holding a knife and playing with it. The other thugs looked to be armed as well.

"Apologies, gentlemen." the woman said, completely unperturbed by them. "But I believe it is you who picked the wrong dark alley this night." She pulled a sword out of nowhere and they gaped at her. But thugs aren't always that smart and these definitely seem to be dumb ones since they rushed at her with bats and knives. But she fought like she had been fighting all her life. She fought like an assassin. Raph watched her from the shadows as she effectively slaughtered most of the thugs with absolutely no trouble or hesitation.

One of the remaining thugs surprised her from behind and would've killed her. But before she had even noticed the danger, Raph was finishing the man off. He stabbed the man several times, with the dagger he borrowed from her coat, just as she was turning around.

"Now what have I always said about watching your back? If I wasn't here, you'd be dead." he told her with a serious look.

"And yet I am not. Do not pretend you didn't lead me here specifically to test me. If you hadn't I would not have been in danger." she said, smirking.

"And yet then I would not have been able to see just how much those lessons I gave you held up after all this time." he smiled at her. He had missed her so much. "Talia. It has been far too long."

"It has." Talia said, actually looking like she had missed him. "We've been waiting and watching. Hoping you would awake one day. But we all knew you would. You planned for all of this. It is so good to have you back, father."

Raph took his daughter from his past life, Talia, back to his place. Not to his apartment. But to the place that had been waiting for him. He had a place that was slightly out of sync with time that only he knew how to get to. It usually involved using a random door and a spell. He did so in the alley and they entered the place that lit up in a warm glow as soon as they entered. It had missed him it seemed. The large room was littered with priceless old tomes and scrolls and occult objects.

"Please sit. You need to catch me up with what I missed. Nearly a century without a version of me alive. If it weren't for you I shudder to think what state the League of Shadows would be in by this time."

Talia sat down. "I have managed your legacy well. Do not worry so much. But I do believe the more conservative of the leaders will be relieved to see you back. They dislike me leading in your stead even temporarily."

Raph got a complicated look on his face. "Talia, I don't really feel like that person yet. I just recently cast that spell that made me like this. Was the past me so determined to live on that he would willingly do this to himself? You have no idea how this feels. I'm in my early twenties. I work at my father's dojo. Until recently I had no idea about what I had done to myself. What I would do. Damn it. It's so hard to use tenses now. I feel like I'm in a million places at once. And I'm aware of every version of me in the timeline. I feel spread too thin. I admit, I think my future selves are not entirely sane. I'm not sure my past self could see that. I succeeded. I'm effectively immortal. If I die, I'll still exist in the timeline. But I'm not sure I really thought about what that could do to my psyche. I don't know how I could go back to being me, if I don't even feel like me yet. I'm Raphael Gale. Not Ra's Al Ghul." he snorted a little. "Did I ever tell you how that became my name?"

"No I don't believe you have." Talia said. She looked worried for him.

"The first me in the timeline, the one that was thrown the furthest, he didn't have an easy time of it at first. I was this me, but in the past. I had very little idea what to do even if I could see my future selves. I couldn't understand at the time what I could see. I had to learn ancient Arabic. No one could understand me for awhile and I barely understood them. And even after I learned the language, no one ever could pronounce my name right. They would always call me something different. When I became more respected the mispronunciation of my name became a title. Instead of Raphael Gale I became Ra's Al Ghul. The Head of the Demon. I never corrected them. Because it was an intimidating title to have and I had nothing else. I was in a place and time I knew about only through history books. It was a difficult time."

"Father, what's really wrong? I can tell when you are troubled."

"I'm still wrapping my head around all of this. Even if I have memories of my past selves, I'm not them. Talia... I can see the future and yet I feel so lost."

"This is normal. You need time to get used to the memories. You are young and yet so old. It is understandable to feel confused. It will just take time. You are my father. No matter what you decide to call yourself. The things I do, I do them for you. Without complaint."

"I suppose I should meet with the others. I'm a little hesitant to do so. Right now at least. I just need to wrap my head around being me again. I suppose I should have expected this. And you know the League. I can't afford to show them any weakness."

"It's as we expected and planned for. Don't worry so much. They waited a century for you. If they can survive that, they can survive you taking time to feel like yourself again." Talia said reassuringly.

"Thank you Talia. It means so much to me that you have effectively cared for that nest of vipers yourself for that long and without complaint. I will take some time to process all of this. But then I will return to lead."

"I will let you reveal to them that you've returned. But I will have the guards that were assigned to protect you reassigned. You don't need protection anymore, clearly." Talia said, getting up to go. "I am truly glad to see you. To really see you. It was awful to be there in front of you so many times and having you not knowing who I was. Especially when you tried to talk with me a few times. I didn't know what I would even say to you if you had caught up with me."

"Even then, your presence was a comfort. I never felt unnerved by it." Raph said smiling at her. "You will be seeing me again before long. I will return to lead the League very soon. But right now I think I'd like to be Raph for a little while longer. Thank you for your patience."

"Take care, father." Talia said before exiting through the door back into Gotham city. Raph smiled as she left.

He had missed Talia so much. His daughter from a past self. She was beautiful and deadly and just as clever as him. And probably a whole lot wiser than him he had to admit. He loved her the same as always even if he didn't feel like himself yet. He was always relieved that the emotional connection between them never faltered between his different selves. She would always be his daughter.

Raph went back to the dojo. He walked in on Bruce sparring with Raph's father. He watched for a bit, smiling. He didn't have any ill will towards Bruce Wayne. Even though he knew that someday Bruce would become one of his most formidable foes. Honestly, Raph probably deserved many of the things Bruce would do to him over the years. Because Ra's Al Ghul would grow to be one of Gotham's biggest threats. His sanity would slip. He could see it. But just because he could see the decline, didn't mean he could stop it. So it was comforting in a way to know that Bruce would be there to stop him. And Bruce would be family. He also saw that. He could see a child that looked remarkably like its father, Bruce, but also had many of Raph's features as well. His grandson. Talia's child. He was looking forward to that, even though he knew that the him that would meet that boy would not be quite as mentally stable as he'd like. He would end up trying to manipulate the boy. But the boy would be as tough as his father though and have the same amount of determination. He knew that even he wouldn't live forever so having a legacy was comforting. One of his own descendants would kill Raph in fact. Kill him permanently, he believed, because he couldn't see anything after that. But the void wasn't frightening. It was soothing. It was something to look forward to.

Raph left the dojo after watching the boy that would grow to be so important in his life and walked over to the park he often spent time at and sat down and just watched the world. About twenty minutes later Jack jogged up with an excited smile on his face. The young man nearly vibrated with happiness.

"Guess what!" Jack said sitting down next to him. "You know that girl I've been dating? Jeannie?"

"Yeah. What about her?"

"I proposed to her in this spur of the moment thing and I was sure she was just going to laugh at me. But she said yes! We're getting married!" Jack said ecstatically.

"That's wonderful news, Jack." He had never seen his friend so happy. His friend was the happiest he had ever been...and ever would be again. Because he had no idea of the horror show his life would become someday. But Raph could see the future in his friends face. The future was not kind to Jack Napier. And Jack was not kind to it in return. In fact, Jack would become one of the most dangerous men in Gotham city. Bruce's alter ego would become linked with the man in an endless chaotic antagonistic dance against each other. The Batman and the Joker. Forever linked. It seemed almost fitting that the two people Raph considered friends would come to balance each other out so well. He smiled as he watched his friend babble about all the plans he and Jeannie had for their life together. A life they would only get to share for a short time. He hoped Jack would cherish the time he had when he could be truly happy and not just desperately pretending to be.

"She's great. I can't imagine spending my life without her. And now I won't have to. Things really seem to be going my way. How did I get so lucky?" Jack asked with a blissfully happy look. "Oh I should go. I need to pick up a few things for tonight. I'm gonna try to cook her dinner. Wish me luck with that. I don't really know how to cook so it could be a disaster."

Raph watched his friend get up to leave, so unknowing of the awful fate in store for him. "Jack wait." Raph called after him. Could he really just let his friend walk into all of that? Shouldn't he try and warn him?

"Yeah?" Jack asked.

"...Congratulations. I hope you both have a good life together." Raph said. He couldn't do it. He knew how important it was for Batman to have his nemesis. Without that balance Bruce might go too far and Gotham would burn. Future Ra's might be ok with that but not Raph. Raph couldn't warn his friend about his fate. Because Jack needed to be the Joker. He hoped his friend would forgive him someday.

"Thanks. I hope so too." Jack said happily. "Oh I forgot to ask. You end up summoning a demon or something with that weird book you got handed?"

"Yes I suppose I did." Raph said. He made it sound like a joke. But it wasn't. He did summon a demon in a way. But Jack had enough problems as it was and didn't need to know about any of that. He smiled at him lightheartedly.

Jack laughed. "See. There you go. I told you what would happen."

Raph had summoned a demon. And the demon was himself.