CHAPTER 31:
"Think like (Richard)"

Damian awoke with a start and his eyes bulged with the shock of where he suddenly found himself: on a serene looking beach, surrounded by sand, breathing fresh air, with the sound of the tide washing upon the shore. He sat up under a rock outcropping, and his immediate thought was: Am I dreaming? Or Am I in another one of Jake Handles photo-kinetic illusions?

Next to him sat a brown jacket and a slip-on bulletproof vest, but they were kid-size. Were these his? No, he was still wearing his Nightwing Junior costume, but his mask had been peeled off and was sitting next to the other gear that belonged to someone else. He was thankful that whoever unmasked him had not placed in the sand or the adhesive would be rendered useless. And yet, that would also mean they knew what he looked liked under his mask and could acquire his real identity.

Also, sitting next to him, was a powerful looking handgun. He picked it up and found that it was heavy. He was fluent in many times of handguns, mainly thanks to his involvement with Todd, and he knew that this was what was known as a "man stopper", because it would kill a man with a single shot, blowing his chest clean through. He checked its ammo and it was fully loaded.

He took everything in and knew all this stuff looked like it belonged to Todd. But the escrima sticks were new. Were they his? He knew he had lost one of Grayson's sticks in Bludhaven when it was tossed off a building in an alley when he fought against Jake Handles and the other Handles had crushed in his artificial hand as if it was nothing. He touched them, they felt real enough.

Suddenly, he heard what appeared to be the splashing of water. The sun was gleaming so bright and the sand was blinding his vision to his immediate location, especially when he stepped out from the outcropping. He had to squint to the light, but soon his eyes adjusted. And then, at the water's edge to this sandy beach paradise, he saw the form of an individual. Focusing more, he saw it was a boy dressed only in a pair of undershorts, washing himself down, and splashing water over his face and hair. His clothes were spread out, laying in the sand near-by, as if drying in the sun.

When Damian moved his muscles, they felt like that weighed a ton. Had he been fighting?

With the gun in hand, he snuck up on the other, and as the other drenched himself with water, Damian cocked the handgun and pointed it at the boy. "Who the hell are you?"

The boy was unafraid, offering no immediate reaction to being threatened. "Is that anyway to thank your saviour, munchkin-brain?" Jason Todd turned to him, water dropping down his face from his matted down dark hair. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Damian's eyes widened. He was much younger, even younger than Damian at the moment, but only someone like Todd would call him something like that. Yet, it could be a trick. "Todd? Is that…you?"

"In the undaunted flesh, or at the very least, half of me. The rest of me went bye-bye." He wiped an arm across his forehead. "Damn, it's hot out here. I just washed myself and yet I feel like I just spend an hour in a sauna. I kicked up such a sweat in my gear, I smelled like some of Tim's old sweat socks."
Damian was still awestruck, but he lowered the gun. "Never mind that. What the hell happened to you?

Jason Todd looked himself over. "Well, long story short: they Mini-Me'd me with some sort of miniaturization ray found on the island. Those sadistic Spyral bastards like to keep some interesting toys. I'm just hoping it's not permanent. Not sure I want to relive my life from this point on, knowing what occurred in the past—if you know what I mean?"

Damian nodded. Knowing soon after this period in Todd's life, he was murdered by the Joker, but then resurrected by the Lazarus Pit, much like Damian had been. Batman once remarked: Dying was nothing to the Batfamily anymore because of the Lazarus Pit. But he was still unconvinced that this was the Jason Todd he knew. A grown man being shrunk kid-size was too fantastic to believe. And yet, Damian had seen stranger things since becoming Robin.
"How do I know it's really you? I mean, this could be a trick. I've experienced Handles' illusions before."

"His PK constructs? Yeah, I know." Jason slicked back his hair. "Suffice it to say, he tried to turn you into a living weapon and pitted you against me. But," and Jason smiled big, "I beat your ass. Even pint-sized, you're still no match for me." He then explained, very proudly the details of Damian's defeat, and about the control collar, and how he dragged Damian's sorry butt to the outcrop to sleep off being electrocuted by his own escrima sticks Handles had provided. "So, you see, I'm the real McCoy."

Damian snorted out frustration. He didn't remember any of it, but the facf that he had been beaten by Jason, even in this pint-size version, was enough to unnerve him. But he put that aside for the moment. "Do you know where Kent is?"

"Handles has him, but I'm sure he's fine," Jason said. "The kid's tough like his Dad."

Damian agreed. For as long as he had known Jon Kent, he never gave up. He did whine sometimes to the point that he deserved a slap or two, but when the chips were down, he fought on. And he had this underline determination about him despite his innocent facade that Damian admired. It wasn't that he was the son of Superman that made him confident, it was the fact that he knew that his strength was a gift to help others. Their days when they teamed up were still fresh in his mind.

"We must rescue him," Damian said flatly, then looked introspective. "I can recall fighting Harvey Two-Face and Handles just before they put that collar on me, then nothing, as if my body and mind were no longer my own. Things happened around me in a haze, I couldn't react. I fought its control, but it was no use. I fear the same is in store for Kent. It's incredible and powerful technology."

"That's why I kept it after I ripped it off you. Maybe Tim can make use of it when we get back. I have it with the rest of my stuff." Jason then cocked his head, he sniffed the air. "Pew! But first things first—you reck." He waved a hand across his face as if smelling something awful. "And your stench is fowling up all the fresh air around here. You need to take a bath."

Damian smelled himself. "I don't smell that bad. And besides, I already had a bath."

Jason's eyebrows arched twice and he smiled. "Yes, you did. And you fulfilled one of my all time greatest fantasies, you lucky dog." He folded his arms across his chest. "And yes, I know, I have the body of a twelve year old right now, and that may have sounded perverted, but I don't care. My adult mind is still in tact. I only wish I could've experienced what you did."

"Nothing happened, Todd. Absolutely nothing!" Damian said defensively. "You have a warped mind, you know that?"

"Oh, c'mon, Damian, I've never seen you happier. Spill it. I promise I won't tell your Dad. Did you birdie them?"

Damian fumed. "Enough! Get your clothes back on. We need to get going and rescue Kent. How do we get to Handles from here?"

Jason remained where he was, arms crossed. "Now listen, Damian. I'm still the oldest here, and you don't give me orders. There's nothing we can do right now anyway, we're like castaways at the moment. Handles can see us, he has cameras everywhere on the island" —Jason pointed to a thicket of bushes a little ways off, a small glint from the sun indicated a camera's location; he also pointed to other cameras— "so, there's no place we can go, he can't see. So, we might as well stay put for the time. He's obviously not concerned with us at the moment, or he'd send one of his PK constructs against us. He's probably busy with something else."

"And that's why we have to take the fight to him! He needs to pay!"

"Pay? For what? You can sideline your vendetta, Damian. Dick is fine. Last time I saw Dick, he was in a hospital room surrounded by doctors and nurses—and Barbara. And he's one strong S.O.B, so getting all hot and bothered about Handles targeting him isn't worth it. I came to this island with Jon to rescue you, now we have to rescue him. But, as far I'm concerned, Jon Kent doesn't need rescuing. I'm sure he's just binding his time for the right time to break free of his captors."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't. So, going off half-cocked isn't the answer. If Dick taught us anything, it's to strategize before running into danger. A stupid hero gets himself killed without thinking of everything that could go wrong. It only takes one mistake for things to go a-rye. Put your hatred aside and start to think clearly. Think like Dick. Yes, I know that sounds very corny. But he's the smartest guy I know and the best partner to have in a fight. When he was Batman, he was better than your father and smarter."

Damian opened his mouth to rebuke, but then suddenly nodded. "Yes, Grayson was," he said. "Not to take away from father."

"Bruce has his own attributes, Dick has his strengths, too. But they also have weakness like the rest of us. And you know me, I would never admit to something like if it wasn't true." Damian agreed. He knew he could lose his temper on the fly sometimes. Both his father and Grayson had told him he had to learn to control that. "And right now, being like this, is a major weakness for me."

Damian was surprised that Todd would even admit that. At that moment, despite his own weakness of pride sometimes getting in the way of his own ability to see through his own blinders when he was fighting, Todd earned his respect. He hated to be lectured to, but maybe he was right and it was best to let cooler heads prevail. Besides, what could they do against Handles at the moment?

Suddenly, Todd let out the biggest belch Damian had every heard. It echoed everywhere and seemed to reverberate. Todd laughed short, then felt his stomach and sighed. "Oh, I needed that," he said. "I think I swallowed some of this water."

Damian produced the smallest smirk. Was it the kid in him that wanted to laugh at the burp? It was pretty loud. "Does it taste fresh or salty?" he asked. He didn't know where the island was, but what he could tell was it was a tropical island environment. He judged direction and took in a few other factors and determined they were in the Atlantic Ocean. "It's not widely known, but different types of water can result in an uptake of gas from the esophagus if the body isn't used to it. Not all water is the same. And if you're not careful, you can get also get Hepatitis that can affect your liver."

"Thanks Professor," Jason replied sarcastically. "It's fresh, which is odd. But then the island must have its own filtration system and exit vents which could clean up the water from salty to fresh, I don't know. I'm just glad it didn't come out the other end. I only have one pair of shorts." He walked up onto the sand and gathered his clothes and began to dress. As he did, he told Damian that Harvey Two-Face had destroyed the Batboat. "Unless someone rescues us, we're pretty much stuck here."

"We should explore the island then," Damian voiced. "Get an understanding of its topography."

"I vote we stay here, build a fire, wait until it gets dark, and tell ghost stories," Jason said facetiously.

"Get serious, Todd. We need to—"

"Go where?" Todd said seriously, picking up his jacket. "I told you, Handles is watching us. The best thing we can do at the moment is remain here. Did you just forget what we discussed not to go off half-cocked? Besides, I'm sure the Batboat blackbox is transmitting our position to the Batcave, and the others are on their way. If not, and Handles is blocking it, our last known position would've been sent back. I made sure to send our position back every two minutes when Jon and I were coming to rescue your sorry ass." Damian sneered. And Todd immediately noticed it. "Oh yeah?" He threw his jacket down. "C'mon, pipsqueak! I'll take you on again!"

Damian smirked, then waved a hand over his head. "Judging by appearances, I'm taller than you at the moment, pipsqueak. I've seen pictures of you at this age, and since I'm also older—I'm thirteen—that makes me I charge of the mission now."

Jason snorted. "Age doesn't constitute competence," he said back. "I've encountered a few kids in my travels that could run circles around you on the street. You always think you're so smart. Narcissism is the way of the idiot. There's always someone better."

"True, but—"

"But nothing! And don't you dare quote me some famous philosopher or expert to contradict me. You're starting to piss me off!"

Damian's arrogance showed as he cupped his hips, said: "The feeling's mutual, Todd."

"There you go again." Jason growled angrily. "You're always so condescending, and you do nothing but belittle others. I can't believe Jon Kent hangs around you at all. The kid's smart, so he should know better than to get involved with a jerk like you!"

"Don't you dare! When I was growing up, all I did was train with the League of Assassins. I didn't have any friends."

"I bet there's an obvious reason for that. If you asked me to be your friend, I'd punch you in the face instead."

"Having a friend like you is like having a sociopath who likes to burn bugs and butcher cats."

Jason's eyes widened with shock. With teeth clenched, he then ran and barrelled into the boy, knocking him to the ground. Jason used his body to pin Damian down. He then let his frustrations loose and delivered punch after punch to Damian's face. Damian tried to fend him off, but Jason's strength was unbelievable as if he was possessed by some higher power. Damian knew when emotions ran high, people could have super strength. Especially kids.

Damian blocked one punch, but another got through. "Get off me, you sadistic maniac!"

"Take it back! Take it back!"

Damian managed to push him off, then somersault away, and settled onto one knee. He felt the left side of his jaw. "You're crazy!" He saw that Todd was really mad. What did he say to set him off that badly? It was nothing he hadn't referred to him before. Todd was unstable, he even knew that himself, but perhaps, now that he was a kid, he couldn't control that instability like he had before. "Look, this isn't right. We shouldn't be fighting each other like this."

"Take it back! Take it back!" Todd repeated.

"Take what back?"

"That I like to butcher cats! You weren't present at the time it happened, but there was a time a stray cat attacked Dick in an alley. It was such a brilliant moment. He was very independent and didn't like to be touched by anyone—sort of like me. Eventually, I met him again when I fighting some thugs and fed him. Long story short, Mr. Darcy lives with me now. So, take it back!"

"You have a pet cat?" Damian blinked surprised, standing. This was out of character for whom he thought Todd was, cold and uncaring. Damian knew Todd was acting like a kid right now, but as a fellow animal lover he understood where he was coming from. Animal owners were very defensive treating them like kids and they'd defended them to the hilt. "What kind of name is Darcy?"

"Mister Darcy, thank-you! And Darcy is Celtic for Dark. He's a black cat, as black as the night."

Damian burst out laughing, a full-blown belly laugh. "I never expected someone like you to have a pet cat! It's so odd. Well, more odd than usual; especially with you."

Todd cupped his hips, his anger gone. "And the animals you've rescued aren't? Bat-Cow; Jersey, the Turkey; Alfred Pennyworth, the cat; even Titus, your German Shepard/Great Dane mutt. Who, incidentally, doesn't much like me."

"There's a reason for that. I train all my animals to despise you."

"Whose the sadistic one now?"

Damian waved his hands in front of him. "Okay, enough of this useless banter. We have to get going. C'mon, get your gear. Maybe we can find something useful in what remains of the Batboat."

Suddenly, Damian tripped on something hidden under the beach and he fell face first into the sand. Jason burst out laughing as Damian rose and spit out sand. It was a common stone he fell over, but it was comedic relief at its best.

"Karma is a bitch sometimes, eh? What a cat-tastrope that was." Jason laughed still. Damian wanted to retort, but the kid kept spitting out sand, and brushing it from his mouth. "Suffice it to say, the Batboat's toast. But, come to think of it, we should get going. Once the others get here, and I have a feeling they're on their way—if indeed that noise I heard earlier was a plane flying over the island earlier—we better greet to them in best form. I have a feeing the worse is yet to come."

To be continued...