Chapter Text
“I failed,” Jason said, his hands balled into fists. “I just couldn’t...why couldn’t I push the trigger?! I hate him! Why couldn’t I….”
“Peace, Jason,” Talia said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“I wasn’t strong enough.”
“My offer still stands. I could help you get stronger.”
There was a long moment of silence before Jason looked up. His eyes sparked with unnatural green. “Alright. But not for him. I’m done with him. For me. For you. For Damian.”
A small smile appeared on Talia’s face. “For us,” she agreed softly.
Jason walked off the plane, a bag tossed over his shoulder and his sharp eyes scanning the runway. A grin split his tanned face as a small figure came hurtling towards him. He dropped his bag and held out his arms, sweeping the child up into a tight hug.
“Hey there, Dami!” Jason laughed, spinning around once.
The eight-year-old grinned up at him for a second before composing his features and saying, “Stop your foolishness, Jason.”
“My foolishness? I’m not the one running across the runway,” Jason said teasingly.
“Tt.”
“Admit it! You missed me!”
Damian looked away. “Perhaps your distance was...less than ideal. But only in a practical sense!” he hastened to add. “Having my Dark Angel far away is not good in any sense of the word.”
“Technically I’m not your Dark Angel yet,” Jason pointed out, leaning over to scoop up his bag without putting Damian down.
The boy sniffed dismissively. “It is only a formality. Everyone knows you will be appointed now that you have completed your training.”
Jason grinned again as they approached the other figure standing with a regal smile on her face. “Talia!” he said, dropping his bag again to wrap his free arm around her.
“My son,” the woman said, squeezing back for the briefest of moments before stepping away. “Welcome home.”
“Good to be back,” he said, finally putting Damian -- who was squirming to be released -- down on the hot sand. “The All-Caste was great, but I can’t go too long without seeing my little brother, now can I?” He ruffled Damian’s hair, a motion that had the boy squawking and batting his hand away.
“My Father has requested your presence,” Talia said. “You will have time to freshen up and change. One of my men will escort you when it is time.”
“Right,” Jason said, grabbing his bag again. The three turned and began making their way to a jeep that had been parked a little ways off. “You guys will not believe the stories I have about the All-Caste!”
Once they arrived at the compound, Talia hurried off to attend to one of her many duties and Damian apparently had a lesson, so Jason went to his room by himself. It was a great deal fancier than the other assassin’s quarters and was right next to Damian’s. Jason had kept his room as plain as Talia allowed, with the only decorations being his collection of weaponry and some nice, white curtains. There were two fancy rugs covering the floor that really weren’t to his taste, but Talia had insisted.
“No son of mine will live in quarters fit for a common soldier,” she had said.
Jason smiled slightly at the memory. That had been one of the first times she had called him son, and the warm glow from her words had permeated his whole being for several days after.
He spent a few minutes longer than necessary in the shower, luxuriating over the hot water. What can he say? The All-Caste didn’t have heaters. When he finally got out there was a servant laying out clothes on his bed. Jason nodded at the servant and pulled on the loose pants and tunic, which were black and edged in green. Lazarus green. Jason grimaced at the color but finished getting dressed. He took the ceremonial sword from another servant and strapped it on. His other weapons were soon stowed on his person and he strode from the room, flanked by a guard.
The familiar sounds of bodies hitting each other and grunts of pain and exertion filled the air as Jason marched the familiar path to Ra’s al Ghul’s throne room. He entered and moved forward until he was in front of the man. The nineteen-year-old dropped to one knee, bowing his head.
“I see respect was one of the things they taught you,” the man said.
“Yes, my liege,” Jason said, swallowing his dislike for the man.
“Let’s see what else you have learned on your travels.”
Ten ninja descended from the ceiling. Jason didn’t get to his feet right away, instead kicking his leg out from his kneeling position and sweeping it along the ground. None of his opponents fell but they did jump back, giving him enough time and momentum to jump to his feet and launch himself at the first opponent. Jason fought hard and fast, drawing on his street days, time at the All-Caste, and his other teachers, rather than his Robin days. For one, they were painful to think about. Two, Robin had been flashy, at least partly a distraction, and in order to be an effective member of the League -- or a Dark Angel -- he had to be able to take down multiple opponents as fast as possible without drawing unnecessary attention. The three years of intensive training in all fighting styles imaginable paid off, and Jason soon stood alone among a crowd of fallen ninja, some moving, some not. Some would never move again; even in training and demonstrations they were expected to hold nothing back. Jason breathed hard, forcing acid green whispers to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to lose control.
Ra’s merely raised an eyebrow. Jason abruptly dropped to the ground. A sword swished over him, right where his neck had been a second ago. Jason pulled out his own sword and sliced at his attacker’s legs. It took several minutes, but eventually two more ninja were lying on the floor. These he were sure would never move again. He stayed in a ready stance, lifting one hand to wipe a splatter of blood away from his eyes. The tests went on. Jason did well, defeating all who came against him, but an endless stream of fresh opponents would eventually tire anyone and almost an hour later he was standing, panting, with blood streaming from countless small cuts and a hand pressed to his side where one opponent had gotten a good hit in. His left leg still felt partly asleep from a nerve strike. He looked around the room warily. It seemed to be empty of possible assailants -- though he kept an eye on the guards. Talia was watching from her spot near her father with a mostly aloof expression, though he could see the concern buried deep. Damian was sitting beside his mother, his eyes gleaming with excitement and admiration. And, maybe, a tiny bit of worry. Ra’s watched impassively.
“I must admit, you have skill, Ibn al Muhakik, ” the immortal said. “Perhaps one more opponent will be enough to determine your worth.” Jason gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on his sword. He would take whatever Ra’s threw at him. The man took in his defiant expression and a small, devious smile appeared on his face, which instantly made Jason nervous. “A Dark Angel to prove a Dark Angel,” the man said. “Fitting, isn’t it?” Jason’s eyes widened involuntarily. There were only two other Dark Angels. He did not know the name of Ra’s’, but everyone knew he had only one superior. That one...Talia’s was-. “Lady Shiva,” Ra’s said and Jason’s heart plummeted. “Perhaps you would like to test him.”
“I would be honored, my liege,” the woman said silkily, stalking forward. Jason licked his lips and held his sword at the ready. He could do this. He could do thi-. His thoughts turned to a litany of frantic curses as he tried to fend off the woman. He was actually sort of proud of himself for how long he lasted, considering it was Lady Shiva. He was pretty sure everyone knew going in how this would end, but at least he got two good hits and a few good blocks in before he was pinned to the ground with a knife at his throat -- though the hit she landed on his already hurt side almost made him scream.
Ra’s called an end to the match and Shiva moved back to her place a little behind Talia. Jason forced himself to his feet, trying to keep his breathing regular and calm, and stood at attention, ignoring the screaming pain that ran through his whole being. Ra’s looked at Shiva.
“Your assessment?” he asked casually.
The woman surveyed him. “Adequate,” she said finally. “He lasted longer than I expected. He will do for now, and considering where he was only a few years ago, it is likely that he will become even better with further training.”
“Are you offering?” Ra’s asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. Shiva never took students unless she thought they could fulfill her death wish.
Shiva eyed Jason for a little longer before nodding once, decisively. “Yes. With his skills at the level they are now, it is doubtful that training with any other than another Dark Angel would increase his abilities.”
Ra’s sat back in his chair and studied Jason intently. Jason tightened his jaw and forced his face to be a smooth mask, devoid of pain.
“See that his injuries are tended to,” the man said abruptly, glancing at Talia. “The ceremony will be held tomorrow. And then,” his cold eyes bored into Jason’s tired ones, “we shall have a new Dark Angel.”
Jason bowed as deeply as he could with what he was pretty sure were at least two broken ribs and strode from the room. He did not allow himself to slump over or walk slower until his door was closed behind him. Then he fell to his knees and curled in on himself, one hand clutched to his side and another covering the largest cut he had, which had torn through his sleeve and sliced into his right forearm. His whole body was shaking with exhaustion and he forced his breathing to come slow and regular. He had suppressed the pain and tiredness for so long and now it hit him all at once. A few minutes passed with him trying to force himself up again to tend to his wounds. The door slid open and he shot upright instinctively, knowing that he could not show weakness. Gentle hands wrapped around his arm and pulled him to the bed and he relaxed at the touch.
“Talia,” he murmured.
“You did well, my son,” the woman said, pulling out the medkit he kept under his bed. She helped him take off the ruined clothing and began tending to his wounds, her touch light and gentle as she cleaned away blood and wrapped him in bandages. Her fingers pressed into his side and he hissed as his ribs shifted. “The cuts will be gone by tomorrow evening,” Talia said, sitting back on her heels. Your ribs will still be healing, though. Even your rate of healing cannot fix bone so quickly.”
“I’ll manage,” Jason said, pulling his new shirt on carefully, wincing at the movement. Even now the pain was slowly starting to fade. As in it felt more like a hard jab than a stab whenever he moved.
“If you wish, my scientists have finished the Lazarus synthesis. It is much less potent, but enough to heal bone in a matter of minutes without the bloodlust. It does cause elevated emotions but-”
“No.”
“It could be helpful.”
“No, Talia.” Jason looked up at her. “Never again.”
She sighed slightly but put a comforting hand on his arm. “Alright then,” she said quietly. “You know I would never force you to do anything you are fully against.” Not something like this, at least. Not without an emergency.
Jason sighed in relief. “Thank you.” He glanced around as he pulled on some clean pants. “Where’s Damian?”
“My father wished that he remain behind and give an account of his lessons,” Talia said, going over to the window and looking out, her arms folded behind her back. “Once you are fully healed you will begin taking part in his training.”
“Yeah, maybe that’ll make up for getting my ass kicked five ways to Sunday by Shiva every day,” Jason groused.
Talia shot him a castigating look and he ducked his head slightly. “Are you not pleased to be learning from the best?” she asked, looking back out at the desert.
“Well, I mean, yeah,” Jason said, coming to stand next to her. “But she doesn’t exactly seem the teacher type.”
Talia hummed thoughtfully. “She has no patience for the dimwitted or lazy, but once you have earned her respect she can be amicable.”
“So all I have to do to survive is earn the respect of the greatest martial artist in the world. Great.”
“It might be easier than you expect. You have already made a good start.”
“Really?”
“She would not have offered to train you otherwise.”
“Huh.” Jason grabbed a glass of water from a small table and drained it in one go. There was a moment of comfortable silence as the pair looked out at the rising moon. Jason ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “You know-”
The door swinging open interrupted whatever it was he was about to say. Damian came rushing in. “Jason! Are you alright?” he demanded.
Jason smiled and ruffled his hair. For once, Damian did not object. “I’m ok, kiddo.”
Damian’s face relaxed for a split second. Then he lifted his chin and said, “I knew you would be. Those cretins could not possibly best you in battle.”
Jason grinned. “You know it! Now, you wanna show me some of your moves?” The corner of Talia’s mouth tilted down. Jason needed rest but he wasn’t likely to give it to himself, especially not if he thought he needed to reassure Damian. No matter. If worse came to worst she was not above drugging him.
Damian’s face lit up and he flashed a smile, turning and running from the room. Jason smirked and gave Talia a quick, two-finger salute before following his younger brother, a bit slower than he normally would. The woman watched him go, a warm feeling filling her chest and a slight smile tugging at her lips despite herself.
Though she would never -- could never -- let anyone see it, her boys were her world. She would do anything for them. Anything. She sobered slightly at the thought, her face wrinkling slightly in surprise. If it came to her father or her sons, she would drive a sword through the man herself. That was a feeling that no one had ever elicited in her before. Even her Beloved had only managed to make her waver between them. But if it would protect Jason or Damian? Nothing was too extreme. Her pushing Jason in the Pit against her father’s express orders was just one example. Talia sank down into the fancy chair stuck in the corner. She stared forward, unseeing. She expected this realization to bring about horror or disgust that she was so willing to betray her father, but as she pondered she realized that she was comfortable with the decision. Even subconsciously, the choice had been made long ago.
She only prayed she would never have to act on it.