Jason had to spend over twenty years playing the part of the world's greatest detective. It takes him seconds to figure out his current situation.
He has traveled back in time.
He is now occupying the body of his younger self.
Ra's al Ghul is somewhere on these grounds, maybe even in this building, and if he does not leave now, he will die.
Unlike the first time, he doesn't say anything to Talia. No questions, no shouts — he just looks at her, and soon he has a survival kit and Talia is throwing him off a cliff and into the rushing waters below. Do not seek him out, she says, You remain unavenged.
Vengeance is the furthest thing from his mind.
Talia's people find him soon enough. Jason doesn't fight them, because he doesn't know what else to do. Just thinking about his current situation wants him to find the nearest knife and carve his heart out from all the pain. It's not until he's sequestered away in that hotel room that he makes a decision.
Unlike the first time, he does not lose himself when he learns about the Joker. He had made peace with that particular ghost a long time ago, and even now he has no intentions on digging it back up. Instead he, focuses on the date — if his memory is correct, then it has been a little over a year since his first death. It won't be long until Tim starts his tenure as Robin, if he hasn't already.
…Tim. Tim is alive.
Jason wants to go back to Gotham. Go back to Gotham and hug his little brother, maybe even spare him all the pain and grief the life of a vigilante brought him. Towards the end, Tim had become so cold and cynical and so goddamn spiteful that it was taking every person in his life everything they had to make sure he didn't go over the edge and become one of the monsters they all fought against. It had been like that towards the end, when that final game of wits with Lex Luthor of all people had ended his life for good (though not without taking his opponent with him, of course).
But even as the thought crossed his mind, Jason knew it wouldn't be right. Despite every tragedy he had to endure, Tim had never regretted becoming Robin. When it came down to it, his empathy shined above all else, his innate desire to help people pulling him away from the darkness. He might have taken the job to save Bruce, but the Robin mantle had saved him as well in his own way, like it had for Dick and even Jason. Jason couldn't take that away from him, not like Dick had and came to regret.
So no. That wasn't an option. Besides, it wasn't like Tim was the only sibling of his that needed help right now. Even with a job like Robin, Tim was as safe as any one of them could be. He had Bruce with him, after all. The others weren't as lucky. If he had the timeline right, Cass should still be the under the thumb of the godforsaken piece of shit that dared to call himself her father — either that, or trying to escape it. And Damian…
Damian. Jason wanted to collapse into the hotel bed, let himself melt like a pile of jelly. Oh, Damian.
Even with all the timeline shenanigans of the Flash Family, the oldest Damian could be right now was ten. Not even old enough for middle school and probably being tutored in how to cut out the hearts of his enemies with a sword that far too big for him. There was no way Jason could leave him where he was any longer. He might as well just send himself off to hell right now, if he left his youngest brother to rot like that.
But how? There was Bruce. But Batman's reach only extended so far outside of Gotham, even with the Justice League. To find Damian and Cass, Bruce would have to leave Gotham for a time longer than acceptable. Dick wouldn't be able to help, he had his own city to protect, and no matter how competent Tim was, forcing him to take care of the entirety of Gotham for any longer than a day would get him killed. Bruce would know the score, and he'd make a choice, and it wouldn't be hard to make no matter how painful it was. For the Batman, Gotham always came before family.
That only left one other option.
The following morning, he goes to one of his guards.
"Call Talia," he says in Arabic, "I wish for her to take me to the All-Caste."
Jason sincerely hopes he's not making a mistake.
When he next sees Talia, there are questions in her eyes.
She does not understand why there is no rage in him. She does not know how he learned of the All-Caste. She does not know him.
Most of all, she does not know how to use him.
Jason is treading on thin ice. This is no doubt one of the riskiest thing he's ever done. But the other risk is going to Bruce and potentially not finding Cass and Damian for years, and that's not an option Jason is willing to take. It may be reckless and foolish and will probably put Gotham in danger later down the line, but Jason no longer cares for that.
He's not Batman anymore. He doesn't need to put Gotham first.
When they arrive to the Chamber of All, he goes to bow before Ducra without an ounce of hesitation. "All-Mother," he greets respectfully, almost reverently.
Ducra peers at him speculatively, using one of her sharpened fingers tilt his chin up so she can look at him directly in the eye. "How odd," she notes calmly.
"Ducra?" Talia asks, straightening herself out of her own bow.
"Where did you find this boy, Talia?"
Talia blinked. "His name is Jason. He's recently died and come back to life with the use of one of my father's Pits."
Ducra gives her a serious look. "His soul is older than his body, and shows all the signs of a Cleansing."
"Wha—?"
This is it. This is the moment.
Summoning the All-Blades is every bit of instinctive as it was in his previous life. Gotham was certainly weird enough for Batman to involve himself in more than one supernatural case, and dangerous enough to require the skills of a mystical assassin such as himself. Jason feels the weight of them in his hands, the burn of the symbols on his chest, the energy drawing itself directly from his soul. He can hear gasps from his fellow members of the All-Caste, can see Essence peer at him through a cloud of smoke, but pays them no mind; he only has eyes for Talia, how her own eyes alight with sheer disbelief as he swings the blades into a graceful arc, showing off his skill and proficiency with a pair of weapons that no other human has ever wielded.
"All-Mother," Jason says, "Forgive me for my impudence. But I will explain everything to you, and to Talia as well. Right now if you wish."
Ducra huffs. "You're forgiven, but don't do it again without my permission," she turns away, "Come. I can tell this is a conversation not meant for prying ears. I'll take us to one of the private sanctums to talk."
The explanation is lengthy, but they don't interrupt him. Ducra believes him immediately, she knows when a soul is lying. Soul magicks were the heart of the All-Caste after all. And with her vouching, Talia, naturally, has no choice but to believe him as well. There is no other explanation for that little show after all.
But that doesn't stop her from accusing him of being a liar.
"No. No. I would never—"
"You would," Jason instantly disagrees, cold and dispassionate.
"Damian is my son!" Talia hisses back, angry. "I love him!"
"Maybe so, but you love him more. And no matter how much you may have come to love Damian, that doesn't change the purpose of his conception. A purpose you and I both know he will never fulfill, not as long as you still consider your father an option while traveling this twisted road you're on," Jason's voice softened as he pressed on, "I'm sorry that if this hurts you Talia, but it's the truth. I'm just giving you a chance to salvage what little is left."
She is a powerful woman. A dangerous woman, the most dangerous in the world according to Bruce himself. But when her face crumples at his words, Jason knows he has her on the ropes.
"I will lose even more time with him if he goes to his father now," Talia responds, voice wavering. "Jason, once my Beloved has him, I will never get him back."
"Better that then being forged into a weapon his father doesn't want! He isn't living as he is, Talia. I know you want the best for him, but this isn't it. And I know that you know no other way, that this was how you were raised, but that doesn't change the fact that he's better off with Bruce. That he's safer with Bruce."
"And how can you be sure of that!" Talia suddenly shouted, eyes alight with fury, "Your own tale speaks of his fate. He became another child soldier in that insane war his father wages in that wretched hive of a city, and was dead by the time he was twenty. How can any of that be called living?"
"Because it was the result of his own choices!" Jason shouted back, before calming itself. "Damian knew the risks of this life, knew the consequences of choosing to take up a mask, and he accepted them. And I know that, to his dying moment, he never regretted it. He grew up to be a good man, a great man, who used his skills to help people, and he was happy, Talia. Can you honestly say that he's happy now?"
Talia pursed her lips, but didn't answer. She knew he was right.
It was hard to be happy, after all, when you didn't know what happiness was.
"You and I both know what he is to Ra's. You see a son when you look at him, and when I see him again, I will see a younger brother. But your father? He indulged you because to him Damian will be the perfect meat suit to use when his own finally fails him," Jason pressed on, knowing that he had the advantage in this argument.
"Bruce isn't the perfect father Talia, God knows I know that better than anyone else. But at least with him, Damian will be able to live his own life and make his own choices, and be happy, above all else. He'll be loved so strongly and fiercely and have a family filled with some of the most dangerous people in the world that won't hesitate to throw themselves to the wolves if it means protecting him. He'll be as safe as anyone can be in this world."
Jason was pushing and pushing hard. He'd go to his knees and beg if he had to. Anything just to have Damian with their family again. He refused leave his younger brother in a den of murderers when he had the chance to take him away to his father and their siblings.
He had failed his family so many times, far more than he could count. He wasn't about to fail them now, when they were closer in reach than ever before.
"Will that include you?"
Talia was staring at hard at him, testing his conviction. For Jason, it was hardly a trial; the answer was already on his lips before she even finished the question.
"Of course."
He was offended she even had to ask.
It seemed that was all she needed to hear. Jason saw her body relax, as much as it could in these uncertain times.
"I will bring him to you in a month. Not only that, I will also bring your…sister, as well." Jason blinked at, but soon his surprise turned to understanding. Having another sibling, especially one as skilled as Cass, meant double the safety for Damian. "It will be up to you to take them to Gotham after that, however. Give me a list of what you'll need for the trip, and I'll get it for you. That will be the full extent of my involvement. Anything more will draw my father's intention."
Her words lifted a great weight from his shoulders, and he let out a sigh of relief. He had taken the first step. Now there was only the rest of the journey left.
"Thank you, Talia. You won't regret this."
"See that I don't. I assume you'll be staying here for now?"
Jason turned to Ducra, who had all but melded to the walls as an interested spectator. "If they're willing to have me."
The All-Mother leveled him a deadpan look. "You're trouble," she said flatly, "but the kind of trouble we can get behind. You can stay."
Jason smiled.
After Talia's departure, Jason spent the next two months training, trying to reorient his body to match the skills he learned over his time as Batman. It made for a great distraction from thinking about his situation, otherwise he would probably balled up somewhere in the corner of the Chamber, a sobbing wreck.
It was hard work. A different body type that was only going to change as he grew older, instinctive movements that were trying to react with muscle memory that simply wasn't there. Time that wasn't spent building his body back to its peak condition was spent running through an endless series of movements, trying to acclimate to something that would, if not put him on par with Bruce or even Dick, at least give them a decent run for their money. Anything less than that and not only would he die, but so would Cass and Damian, and Jason was not risking that in the least.
But he was getting there. Ducra was a harsh but fair taskmaster, and Batman or no, she had thousands of years of experience on him. Her advice was invaluable as ever, and Jason soaked it up like a sponge. By the end of the first month, he had effectively surpassed every warrior the All-Caste had, winning every challenge made to him. He no longer overreached using a limb that lacked the length, and calculated hits with the strength he had now instead of the strength had in that other life. Combined with the combat experience he now had, it made for quite a potent combination.
Once he had complete control over his body again, his focus shifted to building it back up to something more optimal. He focused less on practicing movements and more on roadwork; runs in the forests that surrounded the temple, climbing the cliffs (first with both arms and then with one), even simple exercises such as push-ups and crunches. Every night was then ended with an hour of meditation, synchronizing his 'center' with the soul that powered his more esoteric abilities. The results of that training were a little less obvious, but no less cherished. Jason knew it would be years before he could truly say he was at his best, but every marked improvement was still noteworthy.
When he wasn't training, he was getting to know the members of the All-Caste again. There were old members that had died in the previous timeline that he had hit it off with, but it was only in this one that he was making the overtures for friendship. There was Essence, who showed a not-platonic interest in him, but Jason had shut that down instantly. Prior experience combined with relative maturity growth had killed off any desire to go down that particular route again. There was Ducra, who was probably the only person he could talk freely and openly with. Baring his soul to her have never felt like a hassle.
All in all, those two months were the most relaxed Jason had been in a long time.
It was only when Damian and Cass arrived that the problems started.
Jason stared.
Damian stared back.
Talia waited patiently for the shoe to drop.
Jason turned to her. "You were planning on artificially aging him up, weren't you?"
Talia shrugged. "The thought had crossed my mind before," she said cryptically. Because, obviously, Damian had no idea about the time travel. Jason had specifically told Talia not to tell him, having wanted to take on that burden himself when he felt Damian was old enough and mature enough to understand.
However, it seemed he would have to wait a lot longer than he thought — looking at the boy now, he couldn't be much older than six or seven. The age difference between them in Jason's previous life was six years, and now it was ten. And despite his accusation, Jason had a feeling that it wasn't Talia that was responsible for this change. No, if anything he'd bet it was one of those reality-breaking disasters the universe had to deal with every couple of years. God knows he had enough memories of divergent, multiplying timelines to accept that as a viable explanation. It would certainly explain his current predicament.
Whatever. It didn't matter — hell, he'd argue it was even better like this. Now Damian had even more years to spend as a normal, happy child, or at least as much as one a baby ex-assassin could with a family of dysfunctional and insane vigilantes. Just thinking about it made it hard to resist the urge to throw all caution into the wind and pull his baby brother into his arms for a bone-crushing hug.
Just looking at him, he could see an innocent child, and not the tortured but good man he became. Jason would always mourn the Damian he had lost, but this? This is something he was sure his Damian would want. No amount of training could make up for all the love that Jason and their family would have for this boy, who still had so much to live for.
He crouched down so he could be eye-level with the much younger boy. Even at sixteen, he towered over Damian. "Do you know who I am?"
The young boy straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest, clearly trying not to show weakness. Jason tried not to laugh; it made for an adorable sight. "My older brother. One of the many strays Father adopted. Mother says you will take me to him, once you deem me ready."
"I will," Jason confirmed, not bothering to elaborate on what, exactly, he considered 'ready'. "And until you are ready, I will tell you about him, and our other brothers as well. Will that suffice, Damian?"
The boy nodded. Jason eyed him for a long moment. Then, seemingly satisfied, he stood up and looked at Talia expectantly.
"And her?"
Talia adopted a slightly contrite look. "She was difficult to find and subdue, but we managed. She's currently under sedation, though it will wear off by tomorrow. We've already transferred her to Ducra's care."
"Good. Does he know who she is?"
"I thought that would be best left to you."
Jason sighed.
Talia payed it no mind, looking to one of the men she had brought with her. The man stepped forward, handing Jason two large briefcases. Despite their obvious weight, Jason hardly felt the strain, something that Damian noticed. Neither of his relatives missed how he began eying Jason with just a tinge more respect than he had previously.
"The one on the right contains everything you'll need when you finally make the trip to Gotham, including hard cash, fake passports and IDs. The one on the left contains hard-copy files on both Damian and the girl, your family, and any relevant news that's occurred since your first death. I suggest you study them before you leave."
"I will," Jason answered, and gave his one-time mentor a grateful look. "Thank you again, Talia."
Talia said nothing to that, though her eyes softened a bit when she looked at him. Instead, she reached down to tuck Damian into a hug. The boy was surprised by the gesture; such shows of affection, even from his mother, were far and few in-between.
"Obey your brother, Damian. Whatever doubts you may have about him or what he will teach you, remember that he only wishes to protect you."
"Yes, Mother."
Talia gave him another squeeze, murmuring an endearment in Arabic before letting her son go. She gave Jason another assuring nod, and then walked away.
"Do you know why Mother is sending me to meet Father early?"
Jason paused, before continuing to thoroughly chew his food and swallow. He then turned to Damian, looking at him thoughtfully.
After Talia's departure, Jason had set the briefcases down into what would be their room and had taken Damian around the Chamber for a tour. While the boy would remain by his side for most of his stay, Jason wasn't deluded enough to believe that he'd be able to keep an eye on him all the time; Damian's innate independent streak (unquestionably inherited from Bruce) would undoubtedly flare up once he became more comfortable with his surroundings. He'd wander on his own once they had a disagreement, so Jason might as well give him the information needed not to get lost.
Once the tour was over, Jason made one final stop and visited Cass. He couldn't help but stare at his sister, like he had with Damian. She was so much younger, pale and uncomfortably thin. There was a raggedness to her that he hadn't liked, so unlike the elegant woman she had become in his future. Just looking at her, Jason knew that the road ahead would not be an easy one. David Cain had seen to that.
By the time his visit was over, it was time for dinner. Jason directed Damian to the mess hall, where the simple fare that constituted for food at the temple had been spread out. The brothers had seats of honor next to the All-Mother, and Jason instinctively had Damian have the seat next to Ducra. It's not like he had issues with the other members of the All-Caste, but of everyone here, he trusted her the most. Not to mention if Damian's brattiness came out during the meal she'd be more than willing to put the boy in his place.
Jason remembered perfectly well what Damian was like when he first joined the family. He wasn't taking any chances.
"What did she tell you?" Jason asked instead of answering.
Damian scowled. It was a familiar expression. "Mother said it was for my safety. Which makes no sense; nowhere is safer than with the League."
Jason knew for a fact that wasn't true. If anything, the League was the least safe place a person could be, especially for a child like Damian. Of course, that might have been Damian's superiority complex kicking in; the boy was a direct male descendant of Ra's al Ghul and a prodigious martial combatant. He probably thought his position was naturally unassailable and equated that supposed invincibility with relative safety. If Jason remembered correctly, Nyssa Raatko had yet to make her own play yet (something that would've placed Damian in danger and surely dispelled that notion of invulnerability), furthering that delusion.
"I wouldn't say that, little brother," Jason retorted, hiding his smile when he saw Damian's scowl deepen at the reminder of his status relative to Jason. "Tell me: what do you know of your grandfather? Have you met him?"
"Occasionally. As his chosen heir, he likes to keep track of my progress. He even watched my latest duel with my cousin Mara and praised me for putting her in her place," Damian's face lit up at the memory. Jason felt his stomach churn.
Mara al Ghul. Damian's killer. The would-be Demon's Head, until Talia had taken her head in retaliation for the death of her son, ending the line of Dusan al Ghul forever. If Jason was right, she would be Damian's age right now.
Oh, Damian… "Do you know what it means, to be his heir?"
"I shall inherit the League and all its resources upon Grandfather's death. I will continue his work, when he can continue it no longer."
Jason shook his head. "No. You won't continue his work, Damian. He will."
Damian looked at him sharply, narrowing his eyes. "I beg your pardon?"
"I assume your mother told you of my situation? Of how I was unexpectedly revived and then dumped into a Lazarus Pit to heal my memories?"
Damian nodded slowly. Jason peered around the room, making sure no one was paying attention to them. While the information he was about to give out wasn't inherently dangerous (or unknown) to the All-Caste, he wasn't taking any chances. Ducra was no doubt eavesdropping on them, but that was hardly a concern. She already knew everything he was about to say.
"The power of the Lazarus Pit is finite Damian. The more a person uses it, the less potent the effects of the waters will have them. Why else do you think your grandfather practically drowns himself in it every time he has some sort of ailment?"
His younger brother stared at him. The dots weren't hard to connect. "You believe Grandfather plans to possess me when his body finally fails?"
"I know he does, and your mother knew it too. It's the main reason he consented to your conception and birth. Hell, it's probably why your cousin Mara was never considered as heir above you. She's a girl, and your grandfather will never consent to wearing what he considers an inherently weaker body. Otherwise your mother would never have had to contend for her birthright at all."
Damian looked mutinously sick. Jason didn't blame him. Perhaps it was a bit much dropping a bomb like this on a child so young, but Damian unfortunately didn't have the luxury of such innocence. Not in regards to a matter like this.
"You're not lying, are you?"
He believed him. Of course he did; his mother wouldn't have left him in his care otherwise. She did, after all, say that Jason only wanted to protect him.
Jason shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, Damian."
The boy said nothing, instead turning back to his food and continuing to eat quietly. He didn't even offer a protest when Jason sneaked his arm around him in a protective hug. Jason's eye's met Ducra's, and he smiled sadly when she gave him an approving nod.
The next day, Cass woke up.
She was sluggish at first, but as the day wore on and she gradually regained her mental and physical faculties, she became slightly hostile and extremely skittish. Jason took Damian with him, but instructed him to stay out of sight while he dealt with their sister. Not that Damian knew she would be their sister yet.
Cass was obviously suspicious of him at first, but her body-reading skills kicked in when she saw his non-threatening demeanor. She relaxed in his presence, accepting the food he gave her with no protest. When she was done, she looked up at him quizzically.
Jason pointed to himself, "Jason."
She blinked, tilting her head. She pointed at him.
"Jason," Jason repeated, nodding encouragingly.
"Ja…Jayss…" Cass frowned, shaking her head.
Jason took her hand comfortingly, taking it as another victory when she didn't pull away. "It's okay," he said, trying to convey the words with his body language. She gave him a small smile — message received.
The rest of their time together was spent just talking, trying to teach his sister names. Jason gave the okay for Damian to come in, and despite some initial awkwardness, Cass came to accept his presence as well. After they got Jason's name down, they tried Damian's. They got as far as 'Dami' — something that Jason found much delight in — before stopping, and moving on to Cass's own name.
"Cassandra," Jason said, pointing at his sister.
Cass blinked, and pointed to herself. Jason gave her an affirming nod.
"Ca…Cass..saandr-r-aaa."
Jason beamed at her. Cass blushed.
"Who is she?" Damian hissed to him as they made their way for lunch, Cass following silently behind them. It seemed the hours they had spent with her practicing their names had made her reluctant to part from them. Jason was worried about how'd she react to the other members of the All-Caste, but was delighted nonetheless.
"Our new sister," Jason answered nonchalantly.
"You intend for Father to adopt her," Damian immediately surmised, "How are you sure he will?"
Jason winked. "I just do."
Damian sighed, distinctly unamused. "You perplex me, Jason. There's more to you than what Mother told me, isn't there?"
"There is," Jason confirmed, but said no more.
They entered the mess hall, where the meal had already been set up. A third seat had been placed to the right of Ducra's, clearly intended for Cass. Jason directed her to sit between him and Damian, and gestured for her to eat.
That proved to be a mistake. Cass looked at the food and ate like a ravished hound, shoveling food into her mouth at a breakneck pace. It quickly drew the attention of the other patrons, and only a solid glare from Jason and surprisingly Damian caused them to turn their attentions away. Unfortunately, Cass had sensed the disapproval and stopped eating, swallowing what food she had in her mouth and shrinking into herself.
Jason wouldn't let that stand. He tapped on Cass's knee, and when she looked at him, gestured for her to watch him. He slowly and carefully took a pair of chopsticks and held it firmly in one of his hands, using them to pinch the nonexistent air. Cass stared at him, before a figurative light bulb lit up above her head. She spotted her own chopsticks and, with Jason's help, mimicked his hold and the movement of his fingers. When Jason used the chopsticks to eat a bit of fish, she mimicked that as well, and soon was consuming the rest of her meal at a more sedate pace.
Damian watched the entire scene from his own seat with a critical eye, absentmindedly eating his own food, his expression unreadable. When Jason turned his smile towards him, he clenched his fist.
The rest of the day was spent giving Cass her own tour of the Chamber. This took much longer than Damian's; on top of showing her each room, they also had to teach her their names so she could communicate to them when she needed to use one. It was dinner by the time they were finished.
Dinner went much more smoothly than lunch, and after they were done, Jason and Damian helped move Cass's things to their room while she bathed and changed under Ducra's direction. When she returned (another victory!), Jason had her sit next to him as he studied the files Talia had given him the previous day, eventually falling asleep on her own futon. Jason stopped his reading to smile at her.
"Who is she?" Damian demanded once again. He had been sharpening one of his knives on the other side of the room.
Jason turned away from Cass to frown at him, before exhaling tiredly. "Have you heard of David Cain?"
"A former member of the League. A skilled one," Damian paused, "According to Mother, he was one of Father's teachers."
"He was," Jason confirmed, "He taught Bruce how to kill, not that Bruce ever used his techniques for their intended purpose."
"Why ever not?"
Jason let out another sigh. "Our father doesn't kill, Damian."
Damian stared at him as if he spoke gibberish. "But our father is a warrior! A victor of many battles! What kind of warrior does not kill?"
"One with strong ideals," Jason stated firmly, and God did that statement bring back memories, "One that values life above all else, that believes in redemption. I never completely agreed with it, but over the years I've learned to accept it and abide by it for my own reasons. Our father is a warrior, Damian, but he is also an idealist — a hero. And if you truly wish for his acceptance, to follow in his footsteps, then you need to be ready to follow his code."
The boy looked down, staring at the knife he had been sharpening. He looked like any other child who had their entire world upended for the second time. Lost.
Jason moved to sit next to his brother, careful not to wake their sister. Damian didn't resist when Jason wrapped him up in a hug.
"It's the complete opposite of what your mother told you, wasn't it?"
"I'm beginning to wonder if anything she told me was true."
Jason winced. What a damning thing to say. "And how are you sure I'm telling you the truth?" He couldn't help but ask.
Damian looked up at him, and shrugged. "I do not know. Mother tells me to trust you, yet everything you say paints her in a bad light. Yet Cassandra trusted you so easily, and you've been nothing but accommodating to both of us. It is confusing."
"I imagine it would be," Jason fondly ruffled his hair, ignoring the younger boy's noise of protest, "But I promise, I'm not lying. And as for your mother…" He inhaled a deep breath, "Your mother is a complicated woman, Damian. I respect the hell out of her, but I'm not blind to her faults. She's always been torn between the love she has for your grandfather and love she has for our father, and desperate to find a way to reconcile the two. I'm not saying you should disregard everything she's taught you; but you should remember what I've said, when thinking back on it."
Damian remained silent, still ruminating on his thoughts. He'd probably be doing that for quite a while.
"But enough of that. You want to know who Cassandra is, right?"
"I do," the younger boy confirmed.
"Then we go back to David Cain. Cain is one of the best assassins in the world, and one who always strove to be better. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that in order to be better, he needed the perfect assassin as his partner, and sought to train one. After his attempts to train young children to fulfill his vision ended in failure, he sought to conceive such an assassin from his own seed and train them from birth instead. To that end, his search turned to the perfect mate to carry his child."
"His search ended at a martial arts tournament. He saw a pair of sisters duel at the tournament, and concluded that one of them would be a suitable mate. However, he felt her potential was being held back by the other sister, and so murdered her so his chosen conception partner would no longer be held back. Then he ambushed the would-be mother with the League; in exchange for sparing her, she had to carry Cain's child and give it to him for training."
"Cassandra was that child," Damian stated, having already made the necessary conclusions once Jason revealed Cain's goal.
"Yes. The way he trained her was horrific; from birth, she's only ever known violence. He never taught how to read or write, and avoided speech entirely in her presence — to him, the only language she needed to know was that of the body, of combat. Eventually, however, that backfired on him. He had her make her first kill at eight; the body language of the victim convinced her that murder was wrong, and she fled him entirely and has been on the run ever since."
"That's why you're convinced father will adopt her," Damian tacked on, "Her morals align with his, and her past will cause him to sympathize with her."
"Yes," Jason admitted. "She needs help, and our father has never been one to turn away from people who need help. No one in our family ever has. It's not our way. Plus…"
"Plus?"
"She needs his protection too. Like you do."
Damian blinked. "From Cain?"
"Not just from Cain. From her mother as well," at Damian's bemused look, Jason pressed on. "Cassandra's mother is a woman named Sandra Wu-San. But you know her by another name — Lady Shiva."
His younger brother froze, and for the first time in this timeline, Jason saw pure, naked fear on his young face. But how could Jason blame him? Every serious martial arts practitioner in the world knew of the woman who held that name, of what her dearest, greatest wish was.
"The older Shiva becomes, the more desperate she will be to find someone to fulfill her wish. Cassandra, as her daughter, is one of the only people on the planet with the potential to surpass her. And once Shiva comes to that realization herself, she will come for her child and try to force her hand. And Cassandra will die, because she will never kill again, not even when her life is on the line," Jason's nostrils flared.
Just the thought of that woman rankled him; every member of the Bat-Family had been forced to tangle with Lady Shiva at one point in their lives, but none more so than Cass, who had been dogged by the assassin until the day she finally got her wish and died. His poor sister, having her own mother constantly trying to manipulate her into assisting her suicide. Jason was just grateful Cass didn't have to be the one to land the killing blow in the end.
"Shiva? That's almost as bad as Grandfather!"
"Yes. Make no mistake Damian, once we leave the All-Caste's protection, we are vulnerable. And we will continue to be vulnerable until we are within the confines of Wayne Manor."
He grabbed Damian by the chin — not with too much force, but just enough to get the point across — and tilted his head up so he green eyes could meet Jason's own solid mix of teal.
"Yesterday, I deliberately did not inform you what requirements you had to fulfill in order to meet our father. What you needed to do to be 'ready'," Jason's nose wrinkled at the choice of words Talia had to use, but the damage was done and he would have to roll with it.
"Well, here they are: it's when you're able to blend in with a crowd and be completely inconspicuous. It's when people are able to look at you and see you as nothing more than an innocent, unremarkable, child. It's when you can take their well-meaning, oblivious comments and play into them. We cannot draw any serious attention to ourselves during the trip; even the tiniest bit could mean life or death."
"That sounds demeaning," Damian commented, though it lacked the heat that would typically accompany such a statement. Clearly, Jason's words had gotten to him.
"When it comes to survival, Damian, being demeaned is the least of your problems. Trust me — I would know."
It was in that moment that Jason realized how much he sounded like Batman. That lecture was the kind Bruce or Dick would give during training, that he himself had given to his own Robins.
Damian hadn't truly come into himself until he became Robin. It seemed that would be no different here.
The next day, Damian tried to kill him.
Jason wasn't surprised.
He had just upended the boy's entire world over the course of two days. For the first time in his life, Damian knew what it was like to be completely at the mercy of others. The League he had been told all his life he would inherit was now one of the monsters in his nightmares. The girl he was set to travel with would be a target for the deadliest warrior on the planet. And their only protector was a brother he barely knew, who had died and come back to life for reasons unexplained.
Damian needed to know that Jason could protect him. That his Mother's faith was not misplaced.
When the knife came, Jason barely reacted beyond a casual tilt of the head. The blade embedded itself into one of the wooden posts. Cass stared at it, at Damian, in some vague mixture of disbelief and horror. Jason just continued moving through his kata, completely unperturbed.
At lunch, his drink was poisoned. Jason poured the contents into the bed of one of the plants and tossed the cup.
During afternoon training, Damian came at him with a live blade and tried to skewer him. Jason disarmed him in five minutes.
Dinner, he poisoned Jason's drink and food. Jason tossed both and ate fruit instead.
Then it was time to sleep. Middle of the night, Damian woke up and tried to smother him with a pillow. Jason punched the pillow in half, grabbed his younger brother by the scruff of his neck and forcibly hugged him to unconsciousness.
The follow morning, Damian woke up, found them cuddling, and screamed.
"Finally give up?"
Damian scowled at the ground, arms crossed and absentmindedly trying to scuff the soles of his boot by kicking around some nonexistent dirt.
"Good," Jason took out a file and handed it to the seven-year-old, "This is the file on the cover your mother made for you. Memorize it until you can recite it in your sleep. Once you've done that, I've gotten Ducra's permission to take you outside and practice your acting skills with some of the locals."
The child stared down at the manila folder, then up at Jason.
"Who are you?"
Jason raised an eyebrow.
"Mother said you are my brother. You say you are my brother. And yet I cannot help but feel there is more to the situation than what you are both telling me," Damian explained.
Jason stared at him for a long moment. Just as Damian was starting to feel nervous, the older boy smiled down at him, and crouched down so they were eye-level, something he hadn't done since Damian had first arrived to the temple.
"Did your mother tell you what our father was, above all else?"
Damian thought back for a long moment, then shook his head.
"He's a detective, Damian," Jason ruffled his younger brother's hair, a gesture said brother found more comforting than he'd like to admit. "As am I. As are our brothers. And it looks like you have the makings of one too."
Damian blinked up at him, becoming flustered at Jason's proud expression.
"How about this? You investigate me. Collect all the clues that you can. And once you've come to a conclusion, present it and the evidence to me. And if you're right—" Jason bopped his nose playfully. "I'll tell you everything."
The child grabbed his nose, scowl having returned, yet his eyes showed the yearning he felt.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
I have no idea how speech therapy works nor how a mute person would act in this kind of situation, so please don't rag on me for it. Everything is plot-based anyway and largely self-indulgent.
As people have no doubt noticed, this Jason is remarkably different from canon Jason. More mature and understanding, less angry and angsty. Remember, this is a Jason that became Batman, who had to take on responsibilities that he never expected to have because no one else was fit to step up to the plate. He's raised and trained three Robins (four if you count Matty), had to accommodate to their needs instead of his own. This Jason, for lack of better words, had to get over himself for the sake of his loved ones and Gotham.
The same logic more-or-less applies here in regards to his family. Jason is compartmentalizing for Damian and Cass's sake, instead of freaking out about his upcoming reunion with Bruce and co. and how there's no way in hell he's going to be able to hide the time travel from any of them. He's putting them first and himself second, both because he cares about him and because it's distracting him from the impending freak out he's a sliver away from having.
Cass is still Cass, but Damian is different as well. He's younger, for one, and here he's not being sent to Bruce because for training, but for safety. And to someone with Damian's training, that implicitly equates to weakness. He's still trying to get over that when he meets Jason; and then Jason starts dropping all these bombs on him, making the situation worse. That's why it takes Damian two days to try and kill Jason; he's still in shock over the situation. Another is young age; he's much less harder than he was at ten. He hasn't conducted his own ops yet or even made his first kill. He still sorta trusts his mother too, hence his easier acceptance of Jason. Jason proving his own martial prowess did the rest.
As for the age difference thing; this is a reference to all the reboots the comics have gone through via this cosmic, reality-breaking events. As you might've figured, Jason went through a lot of these during his tenure as Batman, and so his head is a bit scrambled to the finer details. This timeline is a mix of everything, so that's just making it worse. For those of you who are pointing out that Cass is younger than Jason, here's your in-built excuse. Or you could just go with the in-story one and have Cass insist on being the older sibling despite all signs to the contrary.
In short, screw DC Canon.
Next chapter will finish the trio's time with the All-Caste and cover the trip to Gotham.
Constructive criticism is welcome! Flames will be deleted and ignored.