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Damian has no idea on what sort of trouble Todd had got himself into this time, he doesn’t even know if the Red Hood’s brainwashed or mind-controlled or if he simply went crazy again and got back to his plan of killing them all. Truth to be told, he doesn’t even care.
He’s not angry about one of his so-called brothers attacking him. Just the opposite. He’s angry because that big, simple-minded, useless buffoon is not attacking him.
It’s insulting and infuriating how Todd has no hesitation in grabbing Red Robin’s head to shove it into the nearest wall (nice hit, by the way) or in headbutting Nightwing hard enough in the face to break his kevlar mask, but yet he keeps ignoring all of Damian’s attacks, limiting himself to dodge and block every punch and kick Robin throws his way.
It’s like he refuses to acknowledge Damian’s presence at all, and that’s not something Damian’s used to. He’s proud of his ability to annoy, insult, and offend on a very personal level all of his siblings, and his efforts are always rewarded with various displays of strong emotions (much to his own amusement, of course), so this indifference right now is an unwelcome surprise. One Jason’s going to pay for.
“There’s a bomb”, Red Robin informs them over the comms, while Nightwing and Robin take cover against a new wave of bullets (all aimed at Nightwing’s head, Damian notices again with a grimace).
“Where?”, Dick asks.
“In his helmet”, Tim answers. “I don’t know if it’s part of the same device that fried his brain, but there’s a light amount of amatex in there, and I doubt Jason was the one to put it.”
Jason putting military explosive into his own head doesn’t sound completely out of the realm of possibilities to Damian, but he doesn’t comment. He’s thinking. Tinkering with the idea of this brainwashed Jason ignoring him in a fight like Damian wasn’t a threat. Like Damian didn’t count as an enemy to him at all.
He comes up with a theory, then a plan. He doesn’t like either of them, but if there’s a bomb and if it’s ticking, then they need a different approach to this problem, something quicker than tiring their opponent and wait to overcome him in a moment of exhaustion.
He moves as soon as the bullets stop. Nightwing’s hand shoots forwards to grab him by his shoulder and pull him back, but Damian was expecting that, and manages to dodge and jump out of his reach. Behind him Dick swears, and Damian knows that the scolding he’s gonna get at home will not be a short, painless one. But that’s a problem for later.
For now he walks towards Todd with his chin raised, and as steady-paced and self-confident as he can manage, holding out an hand to stop Nightwing from following him. Dick actually obeys him, but Damian suspects it’s more because of the Red Hood’s reaction than Damian’s command.
Because Jason is now watching him. And he’s lowering his guns.
Damian’s theory seems to be correct, at least so far. He’s learned from his Grandfather that there are instincts that are just too rooted into some people’s cores to be overthrown by some basic mind control, and for Jason - as for the rest of his family - protecting the innocents is one of those instincts.
And Damian is not an innocent, of course, but he’s young enough to pass as one because apparently one of the main traits associated to childhood is innocence. It’s a weird idea, Damian thinks, because children are perfectly able to fight and kill and be cruel like any other person.
Jason should know that too, but at the moment he doesn’t seem to remember any of them, so right now he doesn’t know that the child in front of him is a danger, that he’s killed more men than he can actually remember. Damian could almost forgive him for his lack of respect. (But he won’t).
“Hello”, he says, as soon as he gets close enough. Dick barks something like don’t get any closer to him, you little moron into his ear, and Damian turns off the comm, focussing his attention on the expressionless red helmet in front of him, and considering what kind of approach he should use.
“I need your help”, he decides to say, having great care to look up in his best not-dangerous expression. If nothing else, his time with both Jon and the Titans has taught him how to make a great impersonation of a brainless kid.
Jason doesn’t answer (he hasn’t said a word since this whole charade started, so Damian’s not surprised about that) but he tilts his head in Damian’s direction and bends a little towards him, so he is listening. And he’s probably understanding too.
Damian smiles - just a little, reassuring thug of the corners of his mouth - and carefully slides the R-shaped stun device into the palm of his hand. Still smiling, he considers the distance, the angles and the speed he’s gonna need to throw it without missing.
He grits his teeth through the smile. He needs bare skin, and Jason only has his neck uncovered. Which it is too high up for Damian to reach and in the wrong angle to be hit with a throw, no matter how precise.
Damian’s hating this situation more and more. He knows he only has seconds now before both Nightwing and Red Robin decide to put an end to his endeavor and drag him back and out of Jason’s reach. So he takes another step forwards - sensing Dick and Tim’s nervousness shooting up the roof - and takes the risk. He’s not sure it will work because it’s not something he does often, or willingly, or at all. But it should be another of those foolish instincts things people tend to have around children.
He reaches out and tugs at the sleeve of Jason’s jacket, then throws his arms up in the air in what he’s learned to be the universal gesture kids use to ask adults to bend down and pick them up.
And Jason, being the big, simple-minded, useless buffoon that he is, immediately complies. He also complies when Damian reaches over to put his arms around his neck, and even starts to gently hoist him up into his arms before Damian jabs him in the neck with the stun device.
The electric discharge is immediate and strong enough to take Jason out in a matter of seconds, leaving Damian’s half satisfied and half disgusted of his victory. He doesn’t have the time to pick the winning feeling between the two, though, because Jason’s dead weight starts to fall on him, and as strong and muscular Damian can be for his age, he’s not nearly enough equipped to bear the almost 250 pounds of full armored Jason Todd on his shoulders.
The fall on the ground knocks the air out of him, and he cries out in both surprise and pain. He’s rewarded with an amused laugh.
“Nightwing!”, Damian roars with what little voice he can muster from under Jason’s weight. “Get him off me this instant!”
Grayson’s smiling face pops up above him, and Damian scowls at the upside down figure.
“What are you looking at?”, he growls.
“That was so cute, Robin. Wasn’t it cute, Red?”, Dick answers, still smiling, and hearing Tim’s laughter as well, Damian decides that he’s gonna punch both of them in their mouth as soon as they’ll set him free.
“Get him off”, he repeats through gritted teeth.
“I don’t know, this look like a very good punishment for your stunt”, Dick teases, even if he’s already moving to grab Jason by his shoulder.
“And kinda cute too”, Drake adds with another laugh, while he helps Dick lifting Jason up. “Can’t wait to show the whole thing to Jay once we manage to fix him. He’s gonna love it.”
Damian clenches his fists and promises to himself to never ever help one of his brothers again.