There's No Place Like Home

"My son?" Batman glared behind cape and cowl as he strode toward the child "Prove it."

This was not a question. It was not a request. It was not a petulant decree given by someone who knew no better. It was a demand given by a man who was used to having his demands met, and Damien had to admit that he was mildly frightened by the intensity of the order, but Damien was never one to give in to fear.

Damien pulled off the mask that Jason had applied with a temporary adhesive to his face two hours before, "I am the grandson of Ra's Al Ghul, The son Of Tahlia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne, trained by the league of assassins to be the best warrior the world has ever seen. I am your son."

Batman looked at the child through opaque lenses. Damien could see no reaction. His father stood, still and silent before pushing some buttons on a computer on his wrist summoning the Batmobile. It had appeared in less than a minute that felt like an hour. The time was spent with a deafening lack of explanation. Batman motioned to the car as he strode towards it.

Damien wanted Jason.

He knew he had spent his entire life training to be a worthy heir to Bruce Wayne and Batman. He knew that since he had learned to form complete sentences he had wanted and asked to meet his father, but his father had become someone in his mind that no mere mortal can live up to, and because of this he seemed completely inhuman. Damien trailed behind Bruce as he clambered into the Batmobile and sat quietly in partial awe and subdued disbelief that he was finally meeting his father. He had always wanted to talk to his father, to ask him questions, but he found himself unable to speak, unable to believe that the enigmatic myth would want to discuss anything with him, half convinced that this was a dream.

Jason, however, was real, and willing to sacrifice on his behalf. He'd proven that. It wasn't hypothetical. Jason had made a connection with Damien, and that connection was important to him, probably because it seemed like there were a very limited amount of people up until this point who were allowed to connect with Damien.

Gotham raced past in a blur as Bruce began speaking to his sidekicks. He only listened enough to note that Bruce told his sycophants to bring Jason to the batcave unless Jason became violent. A small blossom of panic invaded his chest. Jason said that they would meet at the mansion, was there a chance that he wouldn't come? That he would be completely alone?

As much as Damien didn't want to admit it, Jason Todd was the only person who could truly understand what his life was. Jason was his last connection to his mother, to the only home he had ever known. And while he didn't want to admit to feeling a childish apprehension to the fate he was being dealt, he couldn't help but feel a rush of anxiety as they entered the batcave and proceded to wait in silence for the Robins to return to the nest.

For the first time in years Jason Todd was relieved to see Dick Grayson. For the first time ever he was happy to see Tim Drake. The fatigue and lack of sleep, coupled with the injuries accrued over the past thirty-six hours, and the atrophy of his muscles because of his extended stay in Arkham were taking their toll. While he was trained to ignore and push past his pain and exhaustion he was running out of gas, and Damien was running out of time.

Dick's eyebrows lifted over his mask as he took in five. . . then four, no. . . three assassins being neatly dealt with. He tossed his escrima stick at one of the lingering three, knocking him unconscious and allowing the faux Nightwing to club a distracted second. The last was tripped and tied up by a wire that Tim had managed to pull taught around the man's legs.

"Little Wing?" the pause and scrutiny that was being shifted towards Jason was making him uncomfortable, so instead of dealing with a family drama that would make Oedipus cringe, Jason ran across the roof following the path he had directed Damien to take earlier.

Despite being distracted, and worried about an obnoxious nine-year-old who was being pursued by assassins, Jason should have predicted the wire solidly wrapped around one of his ankles tripping him up before he reached the end of the roof.

"Hold on a second!" Dick stalked forward, "Tell us what's going on."

Jason knew they wouldn't let him go without an explanation, but he also knew Damien didn't have time for it "I'll tell you, but send third-bird ahead to help the kid." Tim looked confused. . . and then insulted "Two of those guys were trailing him when he left."

Both Tim and Dick seemed startled by Jason's obvious need to help this child, which annoyed him. They both knew that Jason didn't kill kids, Jason never hurt people who were innocent. He didn't train child soldiers to fight crazy people while wearing scaly green circus pants and yellow capes either, the hypocrisy was trapped, dark and thick in the back of his throat. He had forgotten for a moment that, to them, he was a monster, and to them there was no distinction between one kind of monster and another.

"Batman is already on it." Tim mumbled "we're supposed to get answers about what's going on." Jason noted that Tim maintained a solid ten foot distance and a wary stance. Jason didn't blame him.

"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you." Jason pulled the only knife he had brought out of his boot and began cutting through the wire around his ankles.

Dick's and Tim's heads both tilted to the side as their eyes maintained their focus on Jason. Batman was contacting them through their earpieces. Dick's eyes shot to Jason's and narrowed with a question he wasn't asking as Tim's looked to Dick in order to follow his lead. Jason waited to see what the verdict was.

Dick's neck straightened as if on a wire as he started to say something, stopped before he let out a sound, and then let out an annoyed sigh as Tim winced.

"He hung up on you." Jason couldn't help but wonder at how little time changed things. "What did he say?"

Tim looked at Dick and waited for him to answer, when he didn't Tim let Bruce's words be known "We need to go home, we should bring you with us, but only if things don't get violent." Dick seemed to be struggling with this order, and Jason knew that, order or not things would get violent if he didn't go with them.

"I promised to meet up with the kid at the mansion." Jason was surprised at his own response. He knew he could probably get away even if he was injured, he knew this part of Gotham better than both Dick and Tim (and he was sure that both of the bumbling birds lacked the ability to way lay their curiosity about what was going on and, therefore, would not put in an enormous effort into detaining him) but he was also reasonably sure that Bruce would let him go after he answered a few questions.

There was also Damien to consider. Jason liked Damien in the same way that one likes a puppy that continues to piss on the floor. He found him completely obnoxious, but also endearing. For some reason Damien's opinion about him mattered, and he didn't know why. There hadn't been a person whose opinion had mattered in a long time in Jason's life; despite being a little disturbed at this revelation, Jason was too tired to object to meeting at the mansion.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on?" Dick complained.

"I'd rather only explain once, and there are going to be a lot of questions." Jason pushed up and got to his feet. "I don't suppose either of you brought out the batmobile or a bike to patrol tonight?" Their silence affirmed their negative response. Jason sighed heavily as he headed towards the fire escape as Dick and Tim followed behind.