His past world and life had been thrown at him like a freezing bucket of water by his remarkable old pals, some anti-heroes that called themselves the League of Assassins, but Jason the newly badass and temerary known as Red hood looked like a deer in the headlights as his eyes piqued with curiosity at what he recognized was a black market, long excentric lines of personalities with grungy scythes, chunks of sharp machetes, small handy pocket knifes and elegant katanas laid posed in the dusty tables of each shady businessman, the surprise factor was to see various specimens tied with chains which he couldn't quite cataloge as animals, he'd had to investigate deeply.

You were fascinated by this edgy yet smarty two shoes teenager back in your time when you first met him in his brisky years as the second robin, and he had also met you at your peak, or perhaps in Bruce's words – a wannabe of a sidekick. Adolescence had really been the arousen of a handful of events. What a stage in life to proclaim yourself a hero.

Now, in this not early yet not ancient stage of life, you attempted to indulge him to train with the methods of the League once more because – rumors fly around, and it hasn't been much since you heard about his notable daddy issues and a brief and not so complete information about a seemingly erease of memory, woah. So, family problems had to be bad enough for him to literally go back to the starting point, you thought as Jason walked his way towards the next merchant.