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To say Jason was upset was an egregious understatement. First Ra’s keeps his family locked up for a good chunk of their lives, then he kills his grandchild’s best friend slash kind of adopted brother in front of him. Granted, they were in the famously named League of Assassins, where the kid had seen far worse before he turned 8, but this was just plain rude. For Christ’s sake it wasn’t even a permanent death, Ra’s wasn’t going to just throw away one of his best little soldiers.
Jason stewed in his rage for the first few weeks after waking up, visited only by some servants offering apologies and sweets they weren’t supposed to have. He had forgotten pretty much all of his Arabic, and like, 85% of his Farsi, so he really only communicated with nods and smiles. But hey, he figured out how to write his name (partially) in Arabic script in order to sign some paperwork for Ra’s. He got laughed at for a couple days until he figured out he was writing the word for carrots.
His wombo combo pit dunk had thoroughly messed up his cognitive functioning, emotional regulation, homeostasis, and probably jacked up his guts. While he healed remarkably fast, he still got waves of dizziness and headaches, limbs falling asleep, and more that signified hey kid, you literally died, and your body needs a minute to catch up. While his memory was pretty much unscathed, there was one problem. He could not remember anyone’s faces. The problem on its own was no big deal, it’s not like he has the opportunity to leave any time soon. But he knows that Dami and Talia are out there somewhere, alone, and need to find the Waynes. Talia can handle herself no problem, Damian too, but how would Jason find them?
It was pretty easy to pretend that he had forgotten them entirely, something Ra’s was probably banking on. He could pretend to be a mindless soldier for a little while, not like he’s never done so before. Unfortunately, Ra’s seemed to have other plans in mind. Instead of using Jason like a powerful weapon, he kept him mostly confined to a study, making copies of documents and records. As old as balls the man was, Ra’s was very smart. And with great intelligence tends to come great paranoia and stubbornness. He insisted on physical copies of everything, even stuff from 1827 that Jason could guarantee was irrelevant. How many John Smiths attempted to trade with Ra’s throughout history? Why did the man insist on keeping, not even the first edition mind you, a copy of Pride and Prejudice, copied out of the book onto a piece of parchment. Did he meet Miss Austen in the flesh or was he just a fan of her work? For Christ’s sake he’s seen the man on a phone before! He can easily afford a kindle!
Sorting through Ra’s Al Ghul’s ridiculous collection of papers was quite the task, but it kept Jason’s mind occupied. He rarely spoke, another tidbit to convince the green grandpa that he was obedient. Granted, at times he wanted to deck the man in the face and rattle him around like Bart Simpson. The man began to instruct him on how to make prints, a faster way of copying documents compared to the handwritten ones Jason had seen prior. He would’ve been happy with a word doc and HP printer, but no. Ra’s kept those copies in his own quarters, making Jason wonder if he used them to stuff his pillows or decorate the walls. The print process was kind of satisfying, and he was typically joined by a few other servants who again offered him sad looks and treats.
Working with the documents had another advantage; Jason could read what kind of news was occurring relevant to the League, as well as any letters being distributed. It was a bit funny to think of how the bats would think the League did their correspondence, picturing Bruce pulling his hair out trying to decipher what font was being used and why, only for it to be a random servant’s transcription being copied over and over. Some of the letters even discussed Talia and Damian, in a roundabout way. Apparently, Lady Shiva was not too happy about the whole ordeal, calling both Talia and Ra’s some choice words. However, she seemed to have more pressing matters to deal with considering her daughter was hanging out with the bats, and she wanted to fight them more than Ra’s.
Jason had to keep a straight face while reading, so as to not give away the fact he knew anything about the people in the letter, but he later went and punched a wall. Lady Shiva is a dirty liar! He and Bruce asked her, under truth serum, whether she had any kids, and she said nope! But according to this letter, she’s got one old enough to be a vigilante in the state of New Jersey. To be fair, the age requirement is kinda low, with Dick joining at age 8, but she would’ve been alive when they were interrogating her! He would start second guessing if the lady who smoked a pack in front of him when he died the first time around was really his biological mother, but that seems like a can of worms to open in front of a licensed therapist.
Another lie, this time from Ra’s, was uncovered when they were printing letters to send to Bruce. Apparently, the man was notoriously difficult to actually deliver to, so they made like a billion every time. This one in particular shows that yes, Talia and Dami were on the way to Gotham. However, the circumstances have been twisted. Ra’s claims that she was trying to make a run for it, betraying the League to live the American Dream or something. This letter gave no indication that Damian was Bruce’s son, or that Jason was alive (formerly).
Jason began marking each of the letters he printed, in hopes that the bats would be smart enough to figure out that something wasn’t quite right. He was fully aware that there were more than a few new kids, a fact that Ra’s had once tried to use to make him hate Bruce. He had no idea what they looked like, other than what the new robin had looked like at age 9, talking about dinosaurs and hiding under a gala table. He supposed it would be quite obvious who people were if he saw them in costume, but he would have to be in Gotham to see it anyway.
Jason’s new plan was to gain enough trust with Ra’s to be sent outside the base, and possibly somewhere unsupervised. Unfortunately, this would likely take much longer than he would like. For now, he was applying a little too much ink to every letter.
Dear Detective,
I have received word tha
t
my daughter has b
o
ar
d
e
d
a flight to the Northeast United States. Do be
a
ware that whi
l
e she has left the League, we w
i
ll maintain security measures to ensure her safety and the security of my organization. I will not order any harm to come to her or any of your family, however I will ha
v
e ey
e
s there. Do not
h
esitate to contact m
e
if you would
l
ike me to take care of her if she becomes a
p
roblem. I am also in
t
erested in seeing wh
a
t your newest apprentices are capab
l
e of.
W
i
th
a
ll respect, Ra’s Al
G
hul, The Dem
o
n’s Head, Master
o
f the League of Assassins, Council of Immortals Member, & Unite
d
Nations Ambassador for the micronation of Nanda Parbat, P.H.D. in Philosophy from the University of Metropolis…
Jason was going to jump out a window if he had to write out the man’s incredibly long signature ever again. The man had too much time on his hands. But hey, it made it easier to find ways to hide messages.