"Come home."

"You know I can't." She met his eyes. "You know why."

Jason released a breath of frustration. "What happened? What did she do?"

They were sitting at the small table in Cass' 'house'. A 'house' that reminded Jason more of the small, grimy apartment that served as childhood home than an actual house. He wondered what that said about him, that he had been so accustomed to basic amenities such as running water and cleanliness that he couldn't reconcile with the squalid conditions his sister had been living with for the past two months.

Cass diverted her eyes, remaining silent.

"Cass. I have been very patient for the past few months. I left Gotham in the hands of the Family, putting off God knows how many cases in the meanwhile along with dumping all my responsibilities with the company on Luke — who, might I add, has a baby at home with his wife, someone we are both very fond of and who is no doubt vexed that we are overworking her husband when he has a family to take care of. Then I climbed up a mountain, without safety gear, played along with the arrangement you had with Richard Dragon, got my ass kicked a lot during that time, and then chartered a private flight halfway around the world, all just to find you." Jason placed his hands firmly on the table and stood, emphasizing how serious he was.

"I love you, dear sister, but if you don't start explaining things now, I'm dragging you home. And don't think that just because you're the better fighter you'll be able to escape me. You and I both know that pure skill is hardly ever the deciding factor in a real fight," Jason paused as he thought that statement over, "Not in this family, at least."

Cass' bottom lip jut out, and Jason could see her hands turn knuckle white. He felt the anger in him bleed out instantly at her obvious distress, and his face crumpled.

"Please, Cass," He asked softly, sitting back down, "Just let me help you."

"You can't."

Jason blinked. "Can't what?"

"Help me," his sister closed her eyes, a single tear beginning to trail down her cheek. "She'll kill you."

"If Bruce managed to avoid being killed by her for all those years, I'll manage," Jason responded after a moment of silence. "Cass. What did Shiva do?"

She met his eyes again. There was so much pain in them, his heart was clenching at the very sight of it. "Harper."

"Harper?" Jason thought of Roy and Lian for a moment, before dismissing them. Roy was dead, as was Cheshire, and Shiva had no reason to go after their teenage daughter when she was both Speedy and under the protection of the current Green Arrow and the second Black Canary (one of the few people she was genuinely fond of). He wracked his mind, and finally the name came to mind. "Harper Row? What happened to her?"

Harper Row was another potential vigilante that nearly joined their family around the same time as Duke, aiding them when Stephanie's father Cluemaster, aka Arthur Brown, used his status as C-List fodder to try and finally make it into the big leagues. To achieve this, he concocted a plan of his own with other nobodies on his level, apparently involving inviting several major villains to Gotham while simultaneously committing another frame-up of Jim Gordon. Considering his daughter was Batgirl at the time, the fact that he even tried was ballsy in itself. Of course, it was also for that reason that the plan was doomed to begin with.

There was a reason why those villains were C-List. It wasn't just due to the memorability and vileness of A-List villains like the Joker or Ra's al Ghul or even Cluemaster's archetype, the Riddler. It was because they were genuinely not as dangerous as the A-Listers. They might have the same general gimmickiness, but they lacked the competence and fighting ability. Harper happened upon one of their little meetings, and after escaping, met Batgirl, and told her about it.

As this was Stephanie when she was Batgirl, in the midst of the road that would see her eventually become Batwoman, she took care of it by herself with painful ease. There was a reason why Jason wasn't afraid to leave Gotham in her hands. While she might not have as much innate talent as the members of his family, she would never gotten as far as she did if she didn't have it. And her work ethic and determination was equal to if not greater than theirs. Whatever plan Cluemaster had cooked up, it was stopped before it could even leave the planning stages.

After that little fiasco, Harper started working on the streets as an informant of theirs, becoming a good friend of Cass, Stephanie, and Tim. She proved to be skilled with computers and tech, and was clearly angling to eventually join the Family one day as a vigilante in her own right. Alas, she eventually ran afoul of a human trafficker named "Mother", and they were forced to ship her and her brother out of Gotham for their own safety. When the dust settled, however, the Rows decided they liked their new location more and opted to stay. They tried to keep in contact, but all the chaos in recent years, up to and including Bruce's death and subsequent succession by Dick, caused them to fall to the wayside. Aside from an occasional email, Harper Row hadn't been a part of any member of the Family's lives in a long time.

Jason had a sinking feeling that they shouldn't have let that happen.

At all.

"The report said accident. Both her and her brother. But I checked and—"

"It wasn't an accident," Jason concluded for her. He breathed in deeply. Fuck. He was right. "And it wasn't just her, was it?" Cass spent more time than them as an international hero, especially back when Dick was Batman and Damian was Nightwing. It was easier for her with her cover. That meant she had more contacts outside of Gotham than them. If they were dying off, she would be the first to notice and make the connection.

Cass nodded miserably. "The last one I found — it was Shiva. He died of the Leopard Blow."

The Leopard Blow. A technique only Shiva and Dragon knew, and the Dragon wasn't one for killing innocents. There was no question about it anymore. It had to be Lady Shiva.

"Okay, so she's after you. Fine. It's nothing new. Just come home for now and we'll figure it out."

She shook her head. "No. She will just keep killing anyway."

"She's going to do that whether or not you come home, Cass," Jason pointed out, "Not until you confront her and give her what she wants, which you won't. Going back to Gotham won't make a difference."

"It will." She pointed at his chest. "You."

She'll come after you.

"Cass…" Jason's shoulders sagged, and looked pleadingly at her.

His sister, the strongest person he knew, was trembling, and he never felt so conflicted. "Cannot lose you. Not after…" The tears were back, and Jason had enough. He got out of his seat and wiped them away with the sleeve of his jacket.

"I can take care of myself, Cass. You know that. You made sure of that when you had me trained by the Dragon," Jason reassured her, "We've beaten her back before. We can do it again."

"She'll come back anyway. She will always come back," Cass denied him, "She wants me only now. No one else. I…this was why I was born. For her."

"We'll throw her in prison."

"You know no prison can hold her." She took his hand. "Either she dies, or…or I die."

She might as well as just slapped him. Jason lurched her away from her angrily, teeth gnashing. "AND YOU EXPECT ME TO JUST ACCEPT THAT? TO LET YOU DIE?" Cass flinched, and Jason faltered, but only for a moment, "You're my sister, my only remaining sibling! I'll be damned before I lose you too."

"Jason…"

"Are you going to do that to me? To Steph? To Babs and Duke and Luke and Bette and everyone else?" Jason's voice broke, and the anger was gone, only confusion and sorrow left. "To Alfred?"

Now Cass was the one looking like she had just been hit. Bringing up Alfred in these kinds of arguments always had that sort of effect on all of Bruce's children, and neither of them had broken the mold on that front.

"He's dying, Cass. These days, he can barely get up in the morning. He has so little time left, and you're going to make me go back to him and tell him that his only granddaughter won't go home and might very well be dead in the next couple of months," Jason glared at her, and now there were tears in his eyes too. "No. I won't do that to him, and neither will you."

"But what are we supposed to do!" She burst back, now full-on sobbing. "What are we supposed to do?"

Enough was enough. Jason pulled her into her arms, hugging her tight, threading his fingers through her long hair. For just this moment, he allowed himself to revel in this closeness he had with his sister, the first real contact they'd had in three months.

What were they supposed to do? He had been asking himself the same question ever since Damian died. Maybe even before, when Tim died. When Dick died. Every loss untethered their family more and more, leaving holes that would never be filled. Jason had continued on as Batman, not just because Gotham needed him, because he didn't know what else to do.

Carrie had shed some light on that. But not enough. He still felt every bit as lost as Cass did. But if there was one thing he did know, it was that they wouldn't find the answer arguing here.

"First thing we need to do is stop Shiva," he said once his sister's cries subsided, "Maybe prison can't hold her, but it can delay her until we figure out another solution. After that, we go home, and we figure things out from there."

Cass sniffled, nodding. Good. She was listening.

"I can call Babs, get her to start a search—"

"No," Cass cut him off, "Know someone already."

"Who?"

"Cain."

David Cain. Cass' biological father. The man who killed her aunt Carolyn.

The man who created Lady Shiva.

That piece of shit is still alive? Jason internally seethed at the idea that the man who caused all this, who tried to abuse his sister into a weapon, was still breathing when most of his own family, heroes who had sacrificed everything to save others, were in the ground. Cass, her body-reading impeccable as always, saw it, and she placed a gentle hand on his cheek, caressing it. Jason felt himself relax gradually thanks to her touch.

"Do you know where he is?" he asked.

"I do," she answered.

"Then let's go get the bastard."

Having Cass back made things so much easier for him. Sure, there was still Shiva to deal with, but with his sister by his side he felt like he could do anything. He had missed her like he missed a missing limb. Something essential to himself, that he'd be living a half-life without.

When they got back to the house, Jason took out his computer. With input from Cass and a quick call to Babs, it was easy to find the exact location of David Cain. He was in the deep recesses of the rainforests of Vietnam, near one of the many illegal fighting rings in the area. Jason chartered another flight for them along with a rental jeep and some gear, and the next day they were on their way.

During the flight, he finally decided to bite the bullet and asked what had been plaguing his mind for the past few months. The plane they were on was small, with an in-built bar for drinks and food and two plush arm chairs and a couch for seating. He had taken one of the chairs while Cass had the couch all to herself, laying across it with her hands in her lap and her eyes focused on the ceiling.

"Why did you have me train with the Dragon?"

Cass tilted her head, just enough so one of her eyes could meet his. There was a small upturn of her lips. "Why do you think?"

Jason stared searchingly at her. "…You know about Carrie, don't you?"

"Is that her name? It's pretty." Her smile deepened. "Batman and Robin, together again. It's been long time since anyone seen that."

"…She's not the only one that needs training."

"Oh? Who?"

"Jon," Jason cleared his throat, "He asked to be Nightwing."

There was a momentary, but meaningful silence at that. Jason saw his sister's mouth part slightly in shock. Evidently, she hadn't expected that. Admittedly, he hadn't either when Jon first came to him. Nightwing may have been inspired by a Kryptonian legend, but it was still a mantle of their family. For a Kent to ask for it…

He wondered, vaguely, what Bruce would've thought of that. Of what Dick would've thought of that. Of whether or not they would've acceded to Jon's request, like he had. He guessed it didn't matter.

They were both gone. So was Tim. Damian. And soon, Alfred.

It was just Cass and him now.

Just them.

"You said yes?" Cass' voice shocked him back into reality. She was sitting up now, peering at him.

"I did," Jason frowned, "Do you think I should have said no?"

"No," Cass said slowly, after a beat of thought, "I think they would have liked that." She didn't have to say who.

Jason wet his lips. "They would have," he agreed, even though he wasn't entirely sure himself. "And that's why I need you back home. You can teach them."

"So can you," she pointed out.

"Not as well as you can," he insisted back, "You're the best, Cass. You can teach them things that I could only dream of."

"The same could be said of you. I hate it when you do this."

"Do what?"

"Be hard on yourself," she said, sighing. "Think yourself…unable. You are Batman. Not me."

It was a familiar argument. One that he had heard constantly, ever since he took up the mantle, from every member of the Family. Every time he doubted himself, they'd remind him that he was Batman, not them. That Dick chose him, not any of them. And everyone knew Dick Grayson never got it wrong, after all.

(That was a lie. The biggest lie in the world, and Dick and him both knew it. Dick got plenty wrong. He was just good at playing it off, if he wasn't outright hiding it.)

"I sent you to Dragon, so you could see that," she explained, "You can teach them. You do not need me."

"Now that's where you're wrong," Jason retorted. He got up, suddenly thirsty for a glass of water.

"I'll always need you."

Compared to the trial of finding Cass, finding Cain was comparatively easy. They just had to flash his photos a few times until they were directed to a nearby town. One that had less-than-legal and reputable past times.

Jason hooked his fingers with the cage, as Cass and him watched half-dressed men beat each other bloody with taped fists and feet on a man-made sand pit. A fight club. Because why not?

Considering their nightly jobs, both of the siblings barely reacted as the sheer, unadulterated violence their eyes were being subjected to. They had both seen worse (and in the case of Jason, had done worse), and everything that was being done was hardly new to them. They weren't here to break this up anyway — they were here for Cain. Anything more and they were risking breaking cover and bringing down some unwanted trouble on their asses.

Finally, after two more fights, Cain appeared. Jason frowned when he saw him. The man looked even older than Dragon. He knew Cain had naturally silver hair, but that sheen had faded away into pure white, the hallmark of advanced age. He was muscular, but there was a sag there, a strain. And his demeanor — there was already exhaustion, even though the fight had yet to even start.

And when it started, even Jason couldn't help but cringe at what followed. Cain had started out well enough, but no amount of age and experience could account for the strong disparity in physical conditions between him and his younger opponent. This man had been a terror before, he was certain, but that terror had left this world long ago. This was a tired, broken old man getting his ass beaten for money, a sight so pathetic that Jason almost forgot he was supposed to hate him.

Almost.

When the fight finally ended, when that final blow landed against Cain's chin, it was downright merciful. He felt the sadness emanating from his sister, and automatically reached out to grab her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. He felt her squeeze back gratefully. Even after everything that man did to her, even after years of separation, she still cared for him. Was still willing to forgive him. She was a better person than he was. A better person than he would ever be.

They watched Cain be carried out of the ring. Their quarry located, they left. They had no more business here.

Later that night, they entered a raucous bar that, according to one of the locals, served as Cain's usual hideout. Cass led the way, Jason trailing behind her, to her sperm donor (because Jason absolutely refused to ever call that man her father). Cain was bandaged up, slumping over the counter while nursing a drink. It was pitiful.

Cass lightly touched his arm, and he lazily looked up at her. Once the recognition registered, his eyes widened, and he stood straight up. Watching as the man gently cupped his sister's face, Jason resisted the urge to rip him away from her and break his arms. We need him, he reminded himself.

"It's been so long…" Cain said tearfully, thumbing the arch of Cass' cheekbone. "Why are you here?"

"Shiva," Cass replied to him softly, placing a gentle hand on top of his own.

Cain's eyes widened further at that name, and he looked around at the rowdy bar-goers, suspicious. "Not here," he told them. He slammed the payment for his drink on the counter and got up from his stool, preparing to leave.

It was then that everything went to shit.

Years later, Jason claimed this would be the incident that would make him swear off going to another bar for life. That wasn't necessarily true — an even worse incident at a space bar that Kyle Rayner brought him to about a year or so later was the actual responsible party — but this certainly played a part.

The reason for his anti-bar tendencies was actually rather simple. One that he found amusing when he was younger, only to become exasperating and irritating when he got older. See, Jason had this inexplicable ability to start a fight every time he entered an establishment that was primarily devoted to serving alcohol. Initially it was because of his naturally abrasive personality, but as he got older and mellowed out, it started happening just because, unintentionally and rarely on any part of Jason's.

As seen in this bar fight.

The inciting moment was innocuous. On the way out, Jason accidentally bumped into a serving girl. As he was apologizing to her, the drink tray she was caring dipped a bit, causing some of the liquid from one of the beverages to spill out on the head of one of the customers. He cried out at the sudden splash of cold on his head, abruptly standing up and accidentally elbowing one of his buddies and another patron in the chin. This caused that patron to stand up and punch him, launching him into another group of rowdy drinkers. Before the three ex-assassins knew it, a full-on brawl had erupted, and they were stuck in the middle of it.

Jason resisted the deep urge to groan as Cain, Cass, and him all dropped to the ground, trying to avoid flying everything as they crawled away for some coverage. Eventually, they found shelter with the nearest fallen table, and leaned against it as they waited for the chaos to died down — which seemed unlikely to be happening any time soon.

"Every single goddamn time…!" He hissed under his breath, cursing his terrible luck. Next to him, Cass patted his hand, which, for once, did nothing to soothe him.

"Who the hell is this, by the way?" Cain asked his daughter, frowning. Jason suddenly remembered he was wearing shades, which is probably why Cain didn't recognize him. "Your boyfriend?"

"Brother," Cass corrected him.

"Broth—Oh," Cain said knowingly, tone suddenly a lot less approving. Jason shot a glare at him, making it clear that the distaste was mutual.

Cass lightly slapped them both on the shoulders, expressing her opinion on any potential conflict between them. Wisely, neither of them said anything more.

It was another thirty minutes before the fighting finally stopped. Just about every other patron was on the ground, either knocked out or in too much pain to get up themselves. Once the coast was clear, Jason gestured for them to leave, gingerly stepping over the carnage.

The cool air almost felt like a balm the moment they got out. Cain directed them to his house (or at least what passed as one), shooting suspicious looks at the empty streets as his companions were rushed inside. He closed the door as soon as both of them were in, locking it and then pulling over a nearby chair to block the passageway for good measure.

"So what's this about Shiva?" He asked once he felt they were secure.

"You know where she is," Jason said, removing his shades to glare at the older man.

"I have a contact or two that might," Cain admitted, eyes narrowed, "But why are you trying to find her in the first place? All three of us know that will only lead to trouble."

"Already in trouble," Cass answered before Jason could. "She is trying to make me mad. Killing my friends. Hunting me."

"She's trying to force you into another duel," Cain surmised instantly. "If that's the case, wouldn't trying to find her be the exact opposite of what you want?" After all, you're never going to kill her.

"Normally," Jason conceded, scowling, "But she's not going to stop on her own, so we'll have to do it ourselves."

Cain burst out into laughter, "How? You lot don't kill, and no prison will ever be able to hold her. You'd just be wasting your time even if you do succeed. More than likely, you'll be going to your deaths."

"We'll be the judge of that," Jason fisted his hand into Cain's shirt, "Now tell us where she is."

Cain growled. "I'd be careful if I were you, boy. I may be long out of my prime, but I can still hand a punk like you his ass."

"You wanna bet, old man?" The current Batman shot back. "I saw you in that ring earlier and trust me, I was not impressed."

"Why you—"

"ENOUGH!"

Before either of them knew it, Jason's arm was wrenched away and both of them were sent stumbling on opposite sides of the room. Between them was Cass, uncharacteristically angry. She glared at Jason, disappointment all over her face, and he instantly felt shame envelope him.

"I know you do not like him. But we need him," she scolded her brother, and then turned to the other man. "He is my brother. Do not make him angry."

Cain closed his mouth. While there was no shame in his expression, the fact that he did not refute her words was telling.

"Please," Cass continued, glare gone and desperation plain, "Help us."

For a long moment, the man who sired her observed them both, before giving out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. I still think you're both fooling yourselves if you think this is going to work, but if you're that determined, might as well."

"Great," Jason said, short and to the point. "So where's your contact?"

"Here, actually. He's the owner and matchmaker of the Club."

"Seriously, 'The Club'? That's its name?"

Cain shrugged. "I never said he was the imaginative sort."

"Fine," Jason sighed. "What's the catch? What would he want in return?"

The older man grimaced.

"David Cain, my friend!" A paunchy, middle-aged man in a white suit greeted them the following day. Surrounding him on both sides were two burly guards who were glowering at them suspiciously.

They spent the night at Cain's house and after breakfast followed him back to the arena. He led them into what functioned as the backstage area, through a makeshift locker room and into an office of some sort. Jason tried to ignore the laid out, inert bodies of men and women in varying states of undress. As much as he wanted to take this guy down, he couldn't risk attracting attention to him and Cass. For the remaining Waynes to be recognized in a place like this would not go over well with the international media or the company's investors. He'll just forward the information to the authorities anonymously when he got home.

"Raul."

"Who are your companions?" Jason saw the man's eyes greedily run over Cass, and redoubled on his self-control. No. No matter how much you want to, no.

"They want information," Cain said, short and to the point. Only the slightest tightening of his fist indicated he was feeling similar to Jason. Cass betrayed nothing — she no doubt noticed as well, considering her abilities, but was probably used to it.

Jason bit his lip and cut that thought out immediately. If he went down that road then nothing was going to stop the ensuing rampage.

"What kind of information? I know…" Raul leaned back into his chair, thrumming his fingertips together, "…many things."

"Shiva."

And just like that, the room grew cold. The guards stopped their glowering to blanch, and Raul visibly paled, his cockiness draining out of him instantly.

"What about her?" Raul asked, deathly serious now.

"They want her current location."

"Why the fuck would they want that?"

Jason scoffed. "It's none of your business. Now are you going to give it to us or not?"

"Oh no!" Raul shook his head, shivering, "You want information like that, I'm going to need equal payment in return. Something big."

"Tch. What qualifies?"

Raul furrowed his brow, wetting his lips. "…A fight. My champion hasn't had a decent challenger in a while. If you can last ten minutes with him, then I'll tell you where she is."

The siblings looked at each other. Cass stepped forward, only to stop when Raul held up his hand.

"No. No women fight in my ring."

The decision was made. Cass and Cain turned to look at him. Jason sighed.

"Any tips?" Jason asked, jogging in place to get his blood going. His shirt had been discarded, revealing his muscular chest and a mish-mash of fading scars, as were his pants, replaced by a pair of shorts. Even his shoes were gone, leaving his bare feet, wrapped in bandages like his hands. He was the perfect picture of an underground fighter, something that wasn't lost on the three of them.

"He prefers punches and leads with his right. He's got power and speed, but isn't very agile and isn't one for dodging," Cain told him, playing the part of coach. Jason didn't protest, seeing as they were on the same side for once.

"And the fight can only end by knockout?"

"Yes, though don't end it if you can until the ten minute-mark. Raul won't have an excuse that way."

"Got it," he turned to his sister, "Signal me when it's time."

Cass nodded, then placed her hand on his cheek. "Be careful. If he fights well enough for serious injury, end it. We will find location another way."

Jason returned the gesture, placing his own hand over hers. "I will. But don't worry, Cass, I'll be fine."

Jason had to wait until the end of the card for his fight. As he was the challenger, he went out first. A bottle of hair dye which he had packed at the start of the trip was hastily used, turning his natural black hair into a shade of red with a streak of white running through the middle. Hopefully, that distinguishing mark would hide him, preventing anyone from recognizing him as Jason Wayne. No name had been given to Raul, leaving his identity a mystery while also conveying a sense helplessness to the audience. All but two of them believed him to be another piece of meat to be fed to the champion.

The champion, a man named Cole according to Cain, came out next. The first thought that came to mind when Jason saw him was that he was a beast. He was taller than Jason, his shoulders wider than Bruce's, compounded with more muscle mass than both of them. He had short, spiky blond hair, crooked yellow teeth, and nasty eyes that promised pain. If Jason were a normal man, a normal fighter, he'd be intimidated.

Jason was not a normal man.

The moment the bell rang, Cole shot forward, punch at the ready. Despite the speed and power that it was thrown at, Jason dodged it easily. As he did with the next punch and the next punch. As Cole missed and missed, Jason started hearing boos from the audience, who were demanding blood. Cole seemed to hear this too, and his hits became more frustrated and frantic as they failed to connect. It wasn't hard to figure out why — as the champion, he was who they were here to see. If he couldn't put on a good show, then his pay would get cut.

Jason didn't care about any of that. He was here for one reason, and one reason only.

So when Cole began to tire and left himself open, Jason took advantage. He duck under the next punch and darted forward, landing a quick, tight combination to his opponent's abdomen. Cole stumbled back in shock and pain, then shook his head to clear it. Rather than press forward, Jason kept his guard up, standing at the balls of his feet. The fight needed to last ten minutes, after all.

Obviously, the champion had no interest in Jason's goal. He just wanted to win. They circled each other, and Cole shot forward again, obviously figuring that the direct approach was still his best option. Jason wondered how he had lasted this long as champion. The talent here either must've been sub-par or just plain stupid.

Jason ducked again and again and countered with two more punches to the chest followed by a kick. He followed up this time with a right and left hook to the face and a knee to the chest again. Cole fell to one knee, and Jason backed away.

The crowd was roaring again. Rarely was it that someone took a fight to the champ. Jason allowed himself a small curl of satisfaction, but no more than that. The job wasn't done, after all.

There was a roar of inarticulate rage. The champ was humiliated. He stood up, smoke billowing from his nose, and charged blindly at his opponent. Jason whiffed his opening swipe, grabbing his arm and flipping him on his back, onto the ground. Cole was up to his feet instantly, but Jason was ready for him. He dropped down, hooking his legs with Cole's and sending the man on his back again. Jason kipped up, landing a standing drop kick on his opponent's solar plexus, watching the air forcibly leave his lungs.

He stepped off of Cole, giving him a kick on the side along the way. The champion struggled to his side, using his hands to get back on his feet. The confidence, the hubris — it was all gone. Jason could see it the next time their eyes met. There was fear, real fear.

On a whim, he looked around until he spotted Cass. She held up two fingers. Two minutes. Doable.

Cole looked reluctant to engage. That was fine, this fight wasn't going to last much longer anyway. Jason took the initiative, throwing a rapid series of punches. Cole struggled to block, a few hits connecting. Jason angled his next punch upwards, breaking the guard easily, and then grabbed his opponent's arms, pulling forward into another knee to the gut. Twisting one arm, Cole found himself on his back again, this time a foot in his abdomen and his arm still wrenched in Jason's grip. Jason purposefully buried his foot into the growing bruise, while twisting the arm even harder than before. The big man let out a loud cry of pain.

Bored, he looked back up at Cass. She mime a slit across the throat. Finish it. Finally.

Jason let go of the arm. Cole made one, last valiant attempt to stand, only to be kicked down again. Jason mounted him, pinning Cole's arms down with his legs, and ripped away, throwing punch after punch into Cole's face. A black eye formed immediately, and blood erupted from his nose and chin. Some of it splashed on Jason's face and chest. He ignored it.

The bell rung. The champion was done, a new champion in his place. Jason stood up, blood-stained, and idly held up his hands in a pose a victory as the surrounding audience roared in joy and elation. He spotted Cass and next to her, Cain. While the latter looked approving, the former had a distressingly neutral look on her face. He'd ask her about that later.

He was given time to wash off and change before meeting Raul again with the others. Back in his old clothes and with his shades on, Jason whistled as he walked towards the office, keeping mind of his surroundings. There seemed to be more guards this time around, which was worrying. Discreetly, he dropped something on the ground.

He opened the door. The bodies were gone. It was just their contact, his guards, Cass, Cain, and him. Raul looked up at him, and there was anger in his eyes.

"You beat him," the matchmaker hissed.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "You never said I couldn't. You just said I had to last ten minutes. I lasted ten minutes."

"Fuck you!" Raul cursed back. "He was my star attraction! Not only have you put him out of commission for the foreseeable future, you've ruined his credibility! Nobody wants to see a losing champion!"

"I don't fucking care. A deal is a deal — tell us where Shiva is."

Raul grinned nastily. "Oh no, you're not getting off that easily. Guards!"

Hulk 1 and Hulk 2 whipped out their guns. Two minutes later, they were on the ground, twitching in pain as Cass dusted her hands. The guns were removed of their casings and dropped to the ground, empty of bullets and devoid of any danger.

"Don't bother calling for the other ones," Jason said breezily, stepping between his sister and Cain to lean over Raul's desk, "They're currently writhing into unconsciousness due to some knockout gas I released in the corridor before I got here. The gas will dissipate in about five minutes, but they'll be out for hours if they're lucky."

He reached over and tugged on Raul's tie tightly, forcing the man onto his feet. Raul steadied himself using his desk, and looked up at the three of them in fear.

"Now. Where. Is. Shiva?"

Next chapter should be the last chapter of the flashback. Here, we lay more of the groundwork of Jason and Cass' relationship. In short, she's probably the person he listens to the most with Alfred dying and the rest of their adoptive family dead. Her opinion holds more weight to him than anyone else's. That's why she's able to calm him down whenever he gets angry.

As you can tell, this Jason is much more irritable than the Jason we've been dealing with in the present. While he's still more mellow than the younger Jason (the Jason we're presented with in DC media), his self-control is still weaker than the current Jason. The current Jason didn't really become the person he is now until he became a father, when he adopted Carrie and took in Helena. Currently, he and Carrie don't quite have that parent/child bond yet (though the groundwork is already there), while with Helena, he doesn't even know she exists yet.

With Alfred dying and the rest of the family firmly subordinate to him, Cass is the only person that is really restraining Jason from falling to pieces. The question is, is she enough?

You'll find out next chapter.