Chapter Text
Jason shouldn't panic. It wouldn't do him any good. He pried his eyes open, yet still he couldn't see. He could tell he was in a dimly lit room, but his vision was too blurry to really make out his surroundings. Everything hurt. He was lying on his back, he realized, which probably did not help how disoriented he felt. His muscles ached too much to bother even attempting to rise.
"You awoke faster than expected." A voice, a man, it sounded like, called from above him. Jason blinked once, twice, three times, trying to clear his vision enough to see what was happening, who was talking to him. "That's good."
"Where-" He tried to speak, but the rasp in his voice was too great, and he was sent into a coughing fit. It was as though he was choking on his lungs; whatever air he was able to suck into them didn't feel like enough. He gathered the energy to sit up, if only to finish his coughing fit, breathing heavily. It sent his head spinning. "Where am I?"
"What does your memory tell you?" The voice asked, deep and ancient.
Jason thought for a moment.
And another.
His mind came up empty. Nothing. He couldn't remember how he got here. What could he remember? His name. He was Jason. His name was Jason. He could remember that. He was Jason...no last name came to mind. He couldn't remember his last name.
Everything was gone. A chasm in his mind where he knew there should be something, anything. He couldn't remember anything. His breath came faster than he knew what to do with it now.
"Nothing- there's- I can't remember anything-" He grit the words out through gasping breaths as he tried not to hyperventilate.
"Easy, boy," The voice became a figure as it stepped in front of him. He was draped in ropes and held the face of a man who'd been around a long time. "You'll only tire yourself."
Jason tried to calm down. He was trying, he really was. But not knowing who or where he was didn't exactly inspire a tranquil state of mind.
"You are Jason Todd," the man said, and it sounded... right. Jason Todd, he thought to himself, and it felt easy, correct. "Member of the League of Assassins, Haras Malki of Ra's al Ghul."
Jason tried to feel out whether the title was right, but nothing came to mind. He supposed it was only something as important to him as his name that would call out to him. Haras Malki. Even if that's who Jason was, he didn't know what it meant. The dialect sounded vaguely familiar, though he was certain it wasn't English. Haras Malki. That was...Arabic? What did that mean? His head was already throbbing before trying to remember what he knew of the language. Haras Malki. Loyal protector. He was the protector of someone important—Ra's al Ghul. The name felt...important. Significant.
"What happened to me? Why can't I remember anything?" He demanded to know, shaking hard as he rose to his feet. He was standing, albeit barely, but he could stand. The man seemed almost impressed by the feat, or maybe it was only intrigue on his face.
"You were attacked, taken," The man said, circling Jason like a hawk would its prey. It felt as if he were surveying Jason's reactions. "You returned to us broken, but worry not, Haras Malki, I will make you whole again."
Broken? Jason didn't understand. He was getting really tired of not understanding really fast. The fear that gripped Jason so fiercely bled into anger. Green, scathing hot anger. He stumbled backward, idle hands clenching into fists.
He surveyed his surroundings with wide-open eyes for the first time. He was in some sort of cave, which explained how dark it was. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the glowing green lake before him. Jason couldn't tell whether the green haze lingering in his vision was from the light emanating from the pit or from something else. A sinking feeling in his gut told him it was both, somehow.
"Who are you?" Jason growled, eyes darting around as he tried to focus on the shadows dancing around his vision. For a moment, he'd thought it to be a trick of the light, but no. There were people here. Many. People here.
The man didn't answer; he merely glanced to his side and gave a curt nod.
Then the shadows attacked.
Jason was immediately on high alert, blocking attacks with reflexes he didn't realize he had. He threw a punch at the next shadow that lunged toward him, and he froze for a moment when the attacker flew back, farther than Jason had expected, until they slammed against a jagged cave wall. It was as though the entire room held its breath, all movement stilled for the briefest moment before recoiling in shock. It seemed only the man who'd ordered the attack remained unfazed. It was only a second before the shadows resumed their attacks, and Jason resumed fighting them off.
Some of the shadows screamed, others merely crumpled to the ground. Jason wasn't sure when it happened, but there was a shift, somewhere, when it was no longer Jason being attacked. He was still the target, it seemed, that hadn't changed. But now, now Jason chased down the shadows. It felt good, he realized as he tore the sword from a shadow's grip and plunged it into their chest. He felt great. Something he could only describe as the green at the edges of his vision sang with the violence, egging him on as he tore each shadow apart, growing more violent with each kill.
A part of him knew he should be growing tired, worn down by the sheer force of the assailing forces, but he couldn't ignore that he was only growing stronger as the fight dragged on. The green at the edges of his vision crept closer, closing in on him until it swallowed his vision whole.
It took him a moment to regain his bearings, blinking a few times as he once more became aware of his actions. He was covered in blood, though he was certain it wasn't his. A bloody sword rested in his grip. He wasn't sure when he'd stolen one from the shadows, but he found he rather liked the feeling of such a lethal weapon in his grip, even if his fists alone had proven to be plenty lethal, if the bodies that littered the ground were anything to go by.
The man who'd ordered the attack was the only other person left standing.
"Well done, Haras Malki, I am more than satisfied with your performance." The man's voice echoed in his ears, and it was then that Jason realized who he was speaking to. Ra's al Ghul, the man he was supposedly meant to protect.
No more than a minute after making such a realization, Jason collapsed to the cave floor, unconscious.
Jason fell into his role easily. Ra's says he will need to be retrained, that his body has weakened along with his mind. Jason welcomed the distraction that training became with open arms. Anything to burn off his energy. He had too much, and it never stopped. His body buzzed with adrenaline, all the time. He's angry, all the time. He wants to hurt something, someone.
Doing so with a sword filled the empty feeling in his gut, and Ra's was happy to provide him with plenty of opponents. The green haze of energy, restlessness, and anger eased when a body fell at his feet. Ra's said kill, and Jason did. It was easier to follow orders than detangle the mess that was his mind at the moment. His memories would return eventually, surely. He might as well regain his strength in the meantime.
"Such growth so quickly, you will grow to be a great weapon, Haras Malki." Ra's said, the edges of his lips quirked into a smile. Jason said nothing, hands folded behind his back and expression carefully neutral.
He'd stopped keeping track of the time that had passed. For the first few months, he'd kept a tally of each day as it came and went. But after a while, it felt like there was no point. What did it matter how long he was in Nanda Parbat? As far as he could tell, it was the only place he'd ever been, the only place he'd need to be. His mission was here, so here he would remain.
Though if he had to guess, he would estimate that it had been something close to a year since he'd lost his memory. Maybe more. He'd thought his memories would have returned by now, but still, all that he can find is a void where he knew something once was. He tried asking Ra's, once, if there was anything he could do to get his memories back. Jason should not have asked. He will not ask again. The new scar sitting on his back would remind him not to.
Maybe he would have lamented the cicatrized skin more if it didn't fit in with the rest, for the most part. He doesn't remember how he got any of them, of course. They don't bring any painful reminders of his past, and sometimes Jason wondered if he should be grateful for it. They're all faded, and they feel no different than the rest of his skin, as if being a little discolored is all that's left of them.
There was only one scar Jason couldn't stand to look at. He'd seen it the first time he changed after waking up in Nanda Parbat. A long 'Y' shape stretched down from his chest along his torso. He didn't need the memory of it to know what it was.
An autopsy scar.
He didn't know how he'd gotten it. No one told him, and he didn't ask. He'd rather pretend it didn't exist at all.
"Come, Talia. I believe him to be ready." Jason blinked; the voice of Ra's brought him back to the present. Talia, the Demon's Daughter. He'd heard her name plenty, knew who she was and what she was capable of. Though he had never seen the woman, he knew enough to respect her. To know she was above him.
Something moved from the corner of his eye. Jason had twitched, itching to grab his sword and strike down the figure emerging from the shadows. Talia looked much like her father; many of their features aligned in such a way that made their blood relation clear. She held herself in such a way that commanded respect, again, much like her father. She turned her head to the side, beckoning someone Jason couldn't quite see.
Jason was expecting someone to arise from the shadows; he was not expecting that someone to be a child. He looked much like Talia, and Jason wondered if he was her son. There was something...else, about the child, though. Something that made Jason's chest ache. The boy held a neutral expression, though his brows had something of a natural furrow to them, much like...
Who? Jason knew he was thinking of someone, but when he tried to draw a name, there was nothing but a mess of feelings he wasn't able to name. He shoved the feelings down, focusing on the matter at hand. He bowed slightly, not as much as a mere assassin would; he was above that, he was Haras Malki, but enough to make his respect clear. The woman before him was the daughter of the Demon's Head, after all.
"Jason," Talia said his name as if she knew him well, and it brought forth more of the feelings he didn't want to think about. He wished he had his memories. "There's someone I would like you to meet."
The small child stepped forward upon his mention, eyeing Jason as if he were a wild animal. He couldn't be older than 8, maybe 7.
"Haras Malki," he greeted with a curt nod, his posture that of a soldier. A part of Jason hated it, a part of him that thought a child had no place in battle. He didn't know why it made him so angry, angry in a way the green had no hand in, why it made his head hurt with the urge to remember. He allowed himself to close his eyes just long enough to take a steadying breath, regaining his composure. He was sure to give no outward sign of his discomfort; he knew better than that. Especially when Ra's eyes bore into him, in that familiar way, he looked at Jason like he was appraising his reaction.
"This is Damian, heir to the League of Assassins," Talia said, pausing for just a moment. Just barely long enough for Jason to see that her eyes, too, were tearing into Jason, yet not in the way that those of Ra's were. It seemed almost like she was searching for something, but what it was, Jason couldn't tell. Something in him hoped she found what she was looking for, even if he didn't know what. "And son of the Bat."
Son of the Bat. The words rang in his ears, made him dizzy. A familiar green haze encroached on his vision, and he found it hard to keep from showing how weak this made him. The worst part was that he didn't remember. He didn't know why those words sent him into such a state. He clenched his fists behind his back, but gave no other indication of his turmoil. His nails dug deep enough into his palms to make them bleed, and Jason used the pain to ground himself.
"Your mission has shifted," Ra's voice washed over him like ice-cold water. "You are to protect Damian as you have me, with your life."
Jason nodded. He wanted to think that it made no difference, whether it was Ra's or this boy he would protect. But seeing Damian sparked something fierce in his heart, something that screamed at him to protect this boy. And he would, as Ra's said, with his life.
Talia and Ra's were speaking, but Jason didn't listen. Partly because he knew it wasn't his place, and partly because his attention was so fixed on this child. Damian stared back, curious, sharp green eyes meeting Jason's.
He didn't know how long the two of them stood like that, transfixed on one another, not a word spoken. It was only interrupted when Talia stepped in to guide the boy away. Before the pair disappeared, her eyes glanced back to Jason. It no longer seemed like she was searching, but like she had found what she was looking for, or something close to it. Her eyes held something almost like hope.
"Something wrong, Haras Malki?" Ra's asked once Talia and her son were gone. Jason shook his head.
"Of course not, sir," he said quickly.
"You recognize something in Damian," Ra's said, ignoring Jason's response. He tried not to stiffen at the accusation. "Relax, boy, I've no intent on punishing you for it. Talia believes she can undermine my authority; she is sorely mistaken. Normally, I wouldn't allow for such insolence to go unpunished, but for now, I will make an exception. Because you are going to help me."
"Sir?" Jason asks, watching Ra's wave forward one of his shadows, a syringe in their hand. It was filled with an odd green, glowing liquid that made Jason twitch, despite having never seen it before, or had he? Ra's says nothing, only looking at Jason while the syringe gets closer, until the needle is pressed into his skin. The contents of the syringe have not yet been injected. The shadow is awaiting the command. Jason knows this is a test. It is one he will not fail, even as traitorous panic fills his chest while he watches the bright liquid seep into his skin.
Four words are whispered in his ear as everything goes green.