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John still remembers the first gift.
It was after his mother died, but before his father did; the morning of his tenth birthday. His dad was already on the slow decline into massive debt, so there wasn't much in the way of gifts, but they did manage to purchase a nice cake from the supermarket down the street and had candles and everything. He also got five dollars to buy himself something else as a treat.
And on the doorstep, there was a package. Not even in the post box like things usually were, but actually just outside the door to their small apartment, sitting in the hallway.
It made his dad nervous, he could tell, but it was addressed to him (well, "Robin Blake" but still), so he was allowed to have it. Inside was a lovingly handmade birthday card (with no "from" signature, strangely), with a polaroid picture of a black temple on a barren mountain.
There was also a box. Quite a simple box, it too looked handmade. And inside that was a knife.
Which kind of made his dad freak out, and made the "I-am-a-ten-year-old" portion of John's brain immediately go into convulsions of "cool" and "awesome."
John didn't know it at the time (because he was ten, and "knife" was already synonymous with "good"), but the knife was a really, really good knife. It was very sharp (which he found out when he tested the tip with his finger, ow), the grip was small enough to fit in his hand, and it was well balanced.
John's dad was initially going to just dump it somewhere, but John's pleading eyes convinced him to let John keep it - while supervised only, of course.
After that, John got a gift every year on his birthday (with an accompanying polaroid picture of a different landscape with no people) although nothing quite as spectacular as the knife. Even after his father died and he moved from foster home to foster home, and then eventually the orphanage, the packages still appeared, wherever he was, right outside his door. The gifts were sometimes practical - an expensive and very warm scarf, or a new backpack when his finally disintegrated - and sometimes less practical; once, he got a kitten, which he wasn't allowed to keep, sadly. Later on, he was given bigger things, like the downpayment on a modest, affordable apartment when he was eighteen, and an anonymous scholarship to the police academy.
And, though John never knew it, he also got the bodies of two dead murderers at the bottom of the bay, long after the police had stopped investigating his father's case.
John went through phases, when he was younger, of resenting the "charity" of it, and phases where he desperately wanted to meet this mysterious person who cared enough to send him gifts every year, but apparently not enough to adopt him or take him away somewhere. When he was older, he sometimes wondered if he should be more afraid that he apparently had a stalker.
John sometimes tried to figure out who was sending him things, but, even once he was an officer it was almost impossible. There was no name, no postage to tell him where the packages came from - so they must have been hand delivered. But there were no prints, and no one ever saw anyone leaving anything at his door.
In the end, he tried to just be grateful, and carried around the knife with him all the time as a reminder that he wasn't totally alone in the world.
When the occupation started, he started to get the feeling the person sending him things might be a little more powerful than even he had suspected.
It started with extra food left outside the orphanage. It wasn't much, but - added to the rations - it meant the boys could eat as much as they wanted, most of the time. The only reason he knew who it was from was the polaroid picture that came with it, this time of an alley he thought could be one in Gotham, but it was hard to tell.
The gifts continued with extra blankets, matches, firewood, and even medicine. It was a bit interesting that the gifts were mostly for the orphans or John, and never for the other police officers.
One day, the picture that came was of downtown Gotham through a window. John got a bit excited because it was the first truly recognizable scene that he'd ever gotten, and he thought he could even figure out where it was taken from.
When he found the right building, he was simultaneously disappointed and excited. Disappointed, because it turned out it probably wasn't his mystery gift-giver. Excited because it was where the members of Wayne Enterprises that were kidnapped directly before the occupation started were staying, and they had to know something about what was going on.
He stayed with them for the night, because it was getting late, and chatted mostly to Lucius Fox and Miranda Tate. When he took out his knife to open a can of food, and Miranda started.
"What?" John asked.
She relaxed and shook her head, "Nothing. Just, that's a lovely knife."
John grinned, "Thanks. I've been carrying it around for so many years, but it comes in surprisingly handy even when the city isn't on lockdown."
"Where did you get it?"
"Oh, it was a gift. I'm not sure who it’s from, though."
Miranda gave him a sweet smile, "Well, I'm sure whoever it is is glad you've found use for it."
AFTER THE OCCUPATION
John has one of those "oh shit" moments of realization a couple months after the bomb goes off over the bay and Batman disappears. He's been going to the cave regularly, practicing with Batman's toys, but he hasn't gone out yet. He's also been spending a lot of time helping get Wayne's mansion-house ready for the orphans to move in. He keeps in touch with Gordon, and does some volunteer legwork for him when he has time - asking around about missing persons and that kind of thing.
Lucius Fox also made contact with him offering his knowledge and resources to Batman's chosen successor.
It's from Gordon that John learns about Miranda Tate. How she’d held the trigger and was the mastermind behind the whole occupation, how she must have had the whole thing planned for years to be able to pull it off.
John almost can't believe it. She was so nice to him, and she’d always seemed really genuine - and he's pretty good at seeing through masks.
The realizations start when the city contacts him because he's been willed the property of someone who is confirmed dead.
Someone who turns out to be Miranda Tate.
There isn't a ton of stuff, but he gets access to her bank account in Gotham, which is quite a sum, and a small box of items found either in her old apartment or collected from where she was staying on the top floor of Wayne Enterprises.
Inside the box is an old, but well cared for, polaroid camera, and few pictures - of Miranda herself, clearly taken by someone else; of Bane (of all people); an older man with a dignified bearing; and a few candid shots of people he thinks he recognizes as Bane's inner circle of mercenaries. It's kind of disappointing, to find out your mystery gift-giver is actually an almost mass-murdering terrorist mastermind. It doesn't mean he's not grateful for all the help she gave him over the years, but the fact that she was clearly crazy sort of ruins his fantasy of the rich, philanthropist somebody he used to dream up stories about.
His fantasy gift-giver was a lot like Bruce Wayne, actually, and Miranda Tate (or whoever she is) is clearly the opposite.
And he still doesn't know why the hell she sent him all those gifts, anyway.
The day after he picks up Miranda's stuff, he has Gordon banging on his door, asking suspicious questions about his connection to her. John tells him the truth - that he's been getting gifts for years from her but he didn't know who she was, and he has no idea why she'd send him anything at all.
Gordon offers to help him look for a connection, and John agrees mostly because he doesn't think Gordon will find anything.
But it reminds him that he now has access to a crazy supercomputer that might be able to help.
He has the brainwave that maybe they have some family connection. He's pretty sure it's not on his dad's side - his dad had no siblings, his grandparents were born the U.S., and neither of them had any siblings either - but his mom's side is a bit more promising in that it's mysterious. His grandma had immigrated when his mom was still a baby, and died before he was born. As far as he could remember, his mom never knew where she'd come from or who her father was, which left a lot of room for crazy, unknown relatives.
He eventually manages to find his grandmother's immigration documents (turns out her name was Nadia Bikri - he only found her because his mom under her maiden name, Talia Bikri, was listed on the same page), and starts (slightly illegally) pulling up all the documents he can find on her overseas. It isn't much - some countries only keep birth records that old in hard copy, but he manages to find two relations: a father, and more importantly, another daughter, Naomi, who was older than his mom and apparently didn't come over when his grandma did. Naomi only has two records: her birth certificate, and a marriage certificate to one Ra's al Ghul before she vanishes off the face of the planet (seriously, there isn't even a hard copy death certificate or anything).
The most interesting part is the amount of stuff the name "Ra's al Ghul" pulls up - turns out, he was crazy too and had a big grudge against Gotham. Batman didn't exactly keep a diary on the guy, but he gets the sense that they knew each other, too.
Small world.
John has a theory that Miranda was Ra's and Naomi's daughter, but there's no birth records anywhere. He ends up writing a letter to every embassy for countries in the area explaining that he's looking for relatives and asking them to check through their birth records for anyone under the name Bikri or al Ghul - they don't find anything, either.
It all kind of comes together when, one otherwise lovely Sunday morning, he wakes up to a knife at his throat and Bane leaning over him asking, "What is your connection to Talia al Ghul?" Oh look, there's another two people in the room pointing guns at him, how nice.
John may have screamed, just a bit. He's not afraid to admit it because let's all admit that Bane is fucking terrifying, and you would scream too.
Despite the terror, John's sleepy brain immediately starts working in overdrive, easily connecting the name "Talia al Ghul" with Miranda Tate.
He's a bit too slow for Bane, though. "How do you know her?" Bane demands again.
John stutters, "Uh, well, she, you know, things, and…" he trails off when Bane presses the knife harder against his throat. Then he squeaks and rushes out (in probably the highest pitch voice he's spoken in since he was thirteen - he'll be embarrassed right after he finishes not dying) "Ah! Okay could you seriously… take off the knife and we can talk about this over coffee or something?"
Bane considers him. And, okay so he'd always known Bane was pretty intimidating, but there's nothing quite like his real, gigantic, physical presence taking up the room, the sound that cage on his face makes as he breathes, and his eyes glaring at you.
But he takes away the knife, and waves the guys with guns to stand down. John swallows.
So… how does Bane drink coffee, exactly?
-------
Turns out, he doesn't. Bane settles into one of his rickety chairs in his kitchen (which creaks ominously) and follows John around the room with his eyes. One of the other guys doesn't follow them into the kitchen, and instead plants himself in front of the door (what, does he think John can just take out Bane and then make a break for the door?). The only person who actually takes his coffee is the bearded guy, who stands at Bane's shoulder with one hand holding the mug and the other fiddling with the knife at his belt.
Once John has his own coffee, he flounders for a moment before sitting across from Bane.
"Now, Robin Blake, how do you know Talia al Ghul?"
"Uh, well, I didn't really know her, but I think she might have been my cousin? I mean, if you mean the person who was Miranda Tate. I knew her a little bit during… everything, but she never really told me we were cousins, and I don't know for sure or anything…" John takes a gulp of his too-hot coffee so he'll stop rambling.
Bane tilts his head and taps his index finger on the table. "How are you cousins?"
John nervously gets up and grabs his notes, flipping through them. "Well, I think our moms were sisters? I mean, my mom had a sister named Naomi who didn't immigrate with my grandma. She married this other guy and then just kind of… disappeared. It's about the right time period, and my mom's name was Talia too. She could have been named after her."
Bane takes a large breath when he finishes and looks down. "She did not tell me."
"Perhaps she did not know, brother." Beard Guy says. Oh sure, let's comfort the scary guy and not the guy who had a knife at his throat a few minutes ago. Thanks a lot.
"I think she did," John says. They both look up - oh, turns out they were having a moment and John interrupted. "She's been sending me stuff on my birthday since I was ten, so… I think she must have known. Not uh, not sure why she didn't tell you, though." John really hopes Bane isn't in the habit of shooting the messenger.
"I see," he says. "What kind of gifts did Talia give you?"
"Ahh," John stutters, "one second." He dashes to his bedroom and back. "Well, this knife was the first one," he shows them.
Bane picks up the knife carefully, before looking at John. His eyes seem almost - reverent. "This knife… I gave it to Talia, before she escaped. She must have valued you greatly, to give you this knife.
Hopefully "valued" means "can't be randomly killed by her attack dog," because otherwise John's not sure being valued by a crazy terrorist is necessarily a good thing.
"Robin Blake," Bane begins, "I was here to judge your worthiness, but it appears my sister already has. You are the rightful leader of the League of Shadows, my sister's blood successor and a worthy man."
"The League of what?" John is a little bit convinced he's hallucinating, "What does that even mean?"
"It means that myself and the remaining members of our order follow your guidance in our mission to cleanse evil. However, you are young and untried, so we will first instruct you in our ways." Bane's eyes crinkle slightly - somehow his eye-smiling doesn't reassure John at all. In fact, he's getting the feeling he should maybe run. "Barsad," he says, turning to Beard Guy (who has a name, who knew?), "Prepare for our departure."
Barsad looks at John and gives him a slow smile, probably because he can tell exactly how much John is freaking out and is finding it amusing, the bastard, "Yes, brother." Then he leaves.
"Our departure? You mean ‘our’ as in you, him, and that other guy, right?" John gets the sinking feeling he doesn't.
"I mean all of us, Robin Blake. You must be trained if you are to lead us." Bane stands, then, in preparation to leave.
"But, uh, don't I get a say in this? If I'm the leader of your… crazy ninja army or whatever, can't I just say no?"
"In this case, you cannot. You are our leader, but you have not yet learned what that means. While you learn, I will leave some men here to continue your reconstruction efforts. After you have been taught, you may command us as you wish."
"But- I- Gordon-" John can't seem to form his thoughts coherently.
Bane turns and considers him, "You are being troublesome. My apologies."
"Your apolog-?"
And then Bane knocks him out. Fuck his life.
