Chapter Text
Time passed differently in the League.
Tim had only been at Nanda Parbat for a few weeks, but it felt like a year already. The entire compound was an elaborate maze, encouraging you to enmesh yourself deeper and deeper into the cult, like a snake swallowing you whole. The only people Tim talked to were League members; he couldn’t contact any other heroes, not after the lies Dick spread about him, and Tam was locked away under constant guard. Despite regularly leaving the compound to hunt for the League of Spiders, Tim felt more ensnared by the Assassins than ever. If he wasn’t working, then Ra’s was teaching him strategy or chess, Pru was forcing him to eat and sleep, or the Red Hood was throwing him into the ground with the rest of the League trainees.
At first, Tim had been insulted that Ra’s threw him in with the other recruits to be trained. He was Robin, Batman’s partner, student of Lady Shiva. But the Red Hood was still able to spar with him, win the spar, with ease. He was one of the most skilled fighters in the League, on par with Talia. Even at a glance, you could tell he was favored by the Al Ghuls. Instead of the basic black uniform, a deep crimson hood shrouded his face mask. Gold lined his robes, a symbol of status within the League. Instead of the normal kunai on his waist belt, there hung a gun, semiautomatic. Other recruits spoke of him with reverence, treating him as practically part of the Al Ghul family.
But most importantly to Tim, the Red Hood was his friend.
A friend and mentor that Tim desperately didn’t want to blow up when it was time for him and Tam to escape.
When Tim had suggested convincing the Red Hood to join him, Pru had only shaken her head. But he had hope! Hood was one of the few members of the League that tried not to kill. He wasn’t often sent on missions because of it, and despite his use of guns, preferred using rubber bullets. Tim wasn’t exactly sure why Ra’s allowed such weakness in Hood when for any other member it would be treason, but it was just another sign of Hood’s high status and skill within the League of Assassins.
So, after their training that day, Tim had followed Hood at a distance. Creeping through the halls of the compound, Tim kept expecting Hood to go onto a branching path, either to return to his quarters or to confront Tim for following him. Instead, Hood walked into Ra’s sanctuary, the armed guards parting to allow him entrance.
Tim’s pulse quickened. Ra’s sanctuary wasn’t a place you wandered into casually, not if you wanted to keep your head. But curiosity gnawed at him, sharper than caution. If Hood was going in there, Tim had to know why.
Repelling up to the ceiling, Tim squirmed his way into the vents. While they’d have been too small for the average man, Tim had always been… small. Either way, Tim shimmied his way past the guards and slipped out of the vent the moment he was inside, hiding among the deep shadows.
The chamber was awash in torchlight and incense, carved stone walls flickering with ancient carvings in languages long dead. Hood stood in the center of the room, facing Ra’s Al Ghul without bowing his head or kneeling. Tim’s stomach dropped to his feet.
“…progressing better than expected,” Hood reported. “Most of the recruits are sloppy, but they’re starting to think before swinging. The boy’s different. He doesn’t need techniques, only experience. He sees everything. Adjusts. Learns.”
Ra’s’ smile was the kind that made Tim’s stomach turn. Smiles mean danger. “Ah. My Detective. I’m pleased he thrives under your tutelage.”
Oh, Tim was going to throw up.
Hood gave a faint shrug, almost embarrassed. “He’s good. Best I’ve had, honestly.”
Instead of the instant disgust he felt from Ra’s praise, Tim was… flattered. Blushing really. Hood never complimented people, only corrected them, so hearing this was… a lot. No one ever really praised Tim before.
Ra’s hummed in satisfaction. “Excellent. Then we shall finish for now.”
It should have ended there. Hood should have bowed, should have left. Instead, he shifted on his feet, rolling his shoulders like a man preparing for a fight.
“There’s… something else.”
Ra’s arched an eyebrow. “Yes?”
Hood coughed into his fist, muttered, “Permission stuff.”
The Demon’s Head steepled his fingers. “Speak plainly.”
Hood exhaled. “I’d like permission to marry Danny.”
Tim blinked. Who?
Ra’s stared at Hood with equal confusion, and maybe… anger? “I was under the impression that the two of you were already married.”
Hood looked away. “There wasn’t really time, before we joined the League. And after that, we had to settle in, then the babies were born, and… we’ve only started talking about it these past few months. And the League rule’s clear—we get permission from you for marriage, not for having children.”
Tim’s heart plummeted. Children? Are there children in Nanda Parbat?
Ra’s was quiet for a long, terrible moment. Finally, he inclined his head. “You have my permission. Not my blessing. You will need to secure that from Talia, and she is… possessive of her son.”
Hood laughed, the voice changer breaking into static. “Yeah, I already figured. Made sure to double up on armor over my vitals, just in case she takes offense.”
“She most certainly will.” Ra’s sounded amused. “Do so today. We will hold a family dinner this evening to mark the occasion.”
“That’s not—”
“It is not up for debate. You are dismissed, Red Hood. Don’t die before tonight.”
“Sir.” Hood bowed, barely a nod of his head, and strode out. The silence he left behind was suffocating.
Then Ra’s spoke, without turning, eyes still fixed on the door. “And as for you, Detective… You will attend the dinner as well. It is a family event, after all.”
Tim escaped as fast as he could.