A week ago, he met his grandfather for the first time in his life. A strange experience for him, considering his grandfather was dead since the last time he checked.
A month ago, he was learning about said dead grandfather. It was the most dreadful lesson he faced. He and his mother were in the Judea desert when he was required to cram in five hundred years worth of information on said dead man.
Three months ago, he spotted his father on a television set as he walked through the streets of London with his mother. The deadweight was supposedly found, from what the announcement said he was missing for a good while. He recalled the annoyance he felt, his father looked anxious and exhausted. If the man was acting at all, he was a damn good actor, the whole thing looked sincere. It was possible that his father found out the deadweight is his son.
Six months ago, his father was proven innocent. It was utter nonsense to him that his father would kill a woman in such a manner. A gun was ridiculous considering what the man could do and the greatest detective in the world couldn’t hide a body? Don’t make him laugh.
Eight months ago, he ran away from his mother and her League of Assassins to help his deadweight brother deadweight to uncover who had framed their father. They managed to narrow the suspects down before he was retrieved.
Now, he was on the run from his five hundred-year-old grandfather. His mother tried to protect him, but he doubted she could keep him from an army of assassins. He was drugged, attacked and chased through southeast Asia. It was a pain for him to make his way back to US soil and Gotham.
