Batman Beyond: The Cosmic Joke

Chapter One: The Beginning

"Hey, Old Man, looks like things are pretty quiet tonight. What do you think: come in early or do another round?"

There hadn't been any activity in Gotham that night. Terry wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or worried. On the one hand, he had a date with Dana later and he didn't want to go feeling beaten half to death (like usual). On the other hand, a quiet night in Gotham City meant trouble was brewing somewhere that he'd probably have to clean up eventually. Terry weighed his options as he scanned Park Row one last time and decided he'd just go with annoyed. Why was he out here if there wasn't going to be anything to do? He was just wasting his time. But there was no telling Bruce that. The guy lived for the street, but since he couldn't be out here himself, he put the responsibility on Terry's shoulders. Normally, Terry didn't mind so much. After all, he had signed up for the job. But tonight was irking him. He had a feeling that something was going to go wrong tonight, but the city seemed to be hiding it from him, waiting to spring it on him when he least expected it. Well, let it, Terry thought, as long as it doesn't interfere with my date. Trouble seemed to enjoy butting in just when he was having problems with Dana.

The radio link interrupted his cynical thoughts. "Go ahead and do another round to be sure, and if nothing pops up, you can come back."

"Got it. And don't worry, I won't get sloppy 'cause I'm in a rush."

"I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, Wayne, but I could hear you think it." Terry revved up the Batcycle and continued his patrol.

About half an hour later, Terry was almost ready to bring it in. He had finished most of his last round from the top of the Wayne Enterprises building, which gave a good view of most of the city. Terry suspected this wasn't a coincidence, though the old man refused to admit to anything.

Seeing no plots to foil or people to save, Terry jumped from the rooftop and let himself gather velocity, savoring the feel of the rushing wind on his face. He loved this part. He gave the mental command to open his wings, ready to glide around the building back to his motorcycle. To his surprise, the command didn't work. The suit was built to be basically an extension of himself; it was supposed to take his thoughts and execute them. There had never been a malfunction like this before. He could still move, so the kill-switch hadn't been activated. He tried the radio and the jet boots and found both non-responsive. Suddenly, he could no longer see. The vid-link had been severed. Thinking quickly--he must be near the ground already--he attached the end of the rope at his right to a batarang and threw it as hard as he could while free falling. Luckily, it caught on something and the rope pulled tight and held. Terry whipped around and slammed into something hard. He heard bones crack and a bright, sharp pain erupted in his left side and arm. Then he swung back and hit again, this time grabbing a handhold.

The visor came back on and he was able to see again. He was hanging from a flagpole about 10 floors from the ground. The brick had crumbled from his first hit and the window above it had cracked. He had slammed into a ledge that ran the length of the building and there was now a huge piece of it missing.

How could he have been so stupid! Jumping from the top of Wayne Tower without his wings out? He was lucky to be alive! It was stupid to put so much faith in a mechanical object, even if it had never failed before. It was only a machine after all, and they could glitch even when they weren't broken. Bruce was going to kill him. He was going to be out of action for a while, with his arm and ribs in the shape they were.

He sighed and wondered for a moment how he was going to get down from where he was. He tried to climb, but his left arm couldn't hold any weight. He did manage to pull himself onto the ledge, though. From that perch, he was able to turn around to face Wayne Tower. Except it wasn't there. The building now in front of him was only five stories tall. He looked left and right, but could not see Wayne Tower anywhere. In fact, all of the buildings around him were no taller than fifteen floors. The only buildings that were even close to the right height were roughly half a mile away and were tiny compared to the skyscrapers he was used to. The skyline was completely different. Where was he? How had he gotten here? What the heck was going on?!

THWOCK!

The noise above his head and to the left distracted him from his thoughts. He looked over and found a batarang embedded in the brick next to the cracked window. His eyes found someone moving and he looked in time to see a white and black clad person swinging over from the rooftop across the way. He landed on the ledge lightly next to Terry. Now that he was close, Terry could tell that the costume was meant to be a Robin costume. It was quite a bit different than the one on display in the Batcave and Terry wasn't all that fond of the changes this guy had made. He was even less fond of the smile playing around the guy's mouth and eyes as he looked Terry over.

"What?" Terry said sharply, hoping to stop the grin from spreading over "Robin's" face.

"Robin" tried to tuck the grin back into the corners of his mouth, not entirely succeeding, and held out his hand to Terry. "A little new at this, are we?" he asked.

Terry glared. "Not really." He checked his wings, and seeing that they opened, took off from the building. He noted that the jet boots also worked. It seemed the suit was in working order, which made him wonder what had happened to make it glitch like it had. He landed on the rooftop across the street and used the fire escape to get to the ground. To his annoyance, "Robin" had followed him. "What do you want?" he growled. He was in no mood for this. His arm was hanging limply beside him, and every move, every breath brought sharp, aching pains to his left side. He was going to be in tremendous trouble with both his boss and his girlfriend; so talking to this crazy costumed fool was one of the last things he felt like doing.

"Hey, I'm only trying to help, man. You're hurt. I know a good doctor." He paused, as though considering something, then added, "Although, I'm not sure I like your tone. Maybe I won't help you." He started to turn.

"I don't need your doctor."

"Robin" turned back with a skeptical look on his face. "Sure you don't. You've only broken your arm and, what, three ribs or so? Yeah, you really don't need a doctor. What was I thinking?"

"I don't need your opinion." Terry took the Batmobile's remote out and pressed the call button. "I can take care of myself."

"Whew! A little touchy, aren't we? You don't have to bite my head off, you know."

Terry leaned back against the wall. Now that the adrenaline had worn off a little, his head was feeling a bit muzzy from the pain. He looked at his arm. He was going to have to set those bones and splint the arm.

"Look," said Robin, having followed Terry's eyes, "at least let me help you splint that. You can't exactly tie a splint with one arm, can you?"

Terry sighed. He couldn't argue with that fact, but he really just wanted to get back to the Batcave so that he could get this disaster of a night over with. "You're not going to leave me alone until I agree, are you?"

"Nope. You're stuck with me until I'm satisfied."

"Wonderful. Fine, you can help. But then you're going to leave me alone. Understand?"

"You got it, Kid." Robin said as he approached.

Terry grabbed him by his collar and pulled him eye to eye. "Don't call me 'Kid'. The name's Batman, got it?"

"Yeah, sure." Robin said, smiling derisively.

"You don't have to like it, but that's how it is." Terry growled back.

Robin grabbed Terry's left arm by the wrist and elbow and jerked the bones back into place. Terry let Robin's collar slip through his hand as he cried out from the pain.

"Hold still." Robin quickly splinted the break and stepped back to admire his work.

Terry glared. "You could've warned me."

"Hm. My bad." Robin looked distinctly unapologetic.

"Are you happy now? You've helped me. Now, go away."

"Hey, you only asked if I'd leave you alone. See, I'm going to stand right over here and not bother you anymore. You won't even know I'm here. But I never said I'd go…. Uh oh. Hold that thought."

The Batmobile had just arrived. At least, a version of it: the retro version. Terry had seen it before, but it had only been a part of Bruce's collection. He hadn't realized it even still worked.

He watched curiously as Robin went to the car and jumped into the drivers seat. Was this really Bruce's car? This Robin seemed awfully familiar with it.

Something clicked in his mind like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle being snapped into place. Small, old buildings; Robin; the old Batmobile…. And the timing: just after all of his systems blacked out. It was all too coincidental. Something strange had happened while he couldn't see, while all of his systems were malfunctioning. He knew they were connected, but how?

He half-listened as Robin started talking to Nightwing over the Batmobile's com link.

"You didn't send the Batmobile? But I thought you had it tonight so that you had some options if it came down to gunfire."

"True, but I didn't send it. It's probably just a glitch; have Gear take a look at it when you get home. Besides, it doesn't look like anything's going to happen tonight. Not here, anyway."

"Another bad tip, then?"

"Looks like it." Nightwing sighed. Terry could see lines around the man's mouth and eyes that he had a feeling had little to do with age and the beginnings of lines around Robin's mouth as well as he frowned at the news. "I'm going to stick around awhile longer, but I doubt I'll see anything worthwhile. See you back at HQ." Nightwing's tired and discouraged face disappeared from the vid-screen.

Terry watched Robin for a moment—wondering what was going on behind that frown—and realized that Robin had completely forgotten about him. Obviously something was troubling Robin and he intended to find out what. Of course, first he had to address these injuries—it still hurt to breathe. He left the support of the wall and went over to the Batmobile. "So, is your offer of a doctor still open? Looks like my ride isn't coming."

Robin was startled out of his thoughts by Terry's sudden attempt to speak with him. He jumped and turned to find Terry looking down at him and made a face. "What about all that 'I can take care of myself' crap you were saying a few minutes ago? What changed your mind?"

"It's become clear to me in the last few minutes that I can't do what I was planning. So, Robin, I'm following plan B and asking for your help."

"You mean, you finally came to your senses and realized anything you could do for yourself wouldn't be as good as what a doctor can do for you. Adrenaline wearing off? Those breaks getting more painful?" He paused, holding out the suspense. "Well, I guess I did offer. Get in."

Terry had to jump to get in, which made the pain in his side flare up. He grabbed his side, his breathing short and labored. This car was engineered very badly, Terry thought, especially for a bunch of people so likely to be injured. They really ought to talk to the designer.

"Here, this'll help." Robin said as he leaned over. Terry looked over just as Robin pressed the trigger on a hypospray.

"What the…? What was that?" Terry's head started to feel muddled and heavy. His hand felt like lead as he lifted it to his head. "What did you do to me?"

"Don't worry. It's just a sedative. You'll wake up in a few hours."

"Stupid…." Terry muttered to himself as everything faded around him.

*****

Terry woke up very suddenly, wondering where he was. His left arm was in a sling--it took him a minute to remember why--and his right arm was handcuffed to the railing of his bed--with his own cuffs. Surprisingly, he could remember having been in worse scrapes, though not many. He wondered how long he'd been in here and unconscious; it had to have been at least a week, maybe even two, because his ribs weren't hurting anymore. He wondered how Bruce was handling his sudden disappearance, especially with it having been so long. He had disappeared while on duty, probably without much of a trace. Bruce obviously hadn't found him yet--that fake-Nightwing was in the corner of the room, having fallen asleep on watch--but he was sure the Old Man had been looking for him. The police were probably looking for him as well. He didn't even want to think of the dark things that were likely to be eating at Bruce's mind. He shook his head to push the dark thoughts out; there were more important things to think about.

Besides, he wasn't going to be here much longer, was he? He looked around the room, searching for exits. There was no window and the ventilation shaft was too small to even put his arm into. The only way to get out of the room was through the door across from the foot of his bed. Great, he thought, and they probably had it guarded too. He opened his cuffs with a mental command--they were luckily connected to his suit, so no lock picking was necessary--and put his now-freed hand to his visor to switch to the infra-red filter. Sure enough, he could see two bright spots on the wall by the door where people were standing outside.

He turned the visor back to its normal setting and glanced back at Nightwing. He was still sound asleep, leaning forward over the back of the chair. Good. Terry slipped out of the bed and crept over to Nightwing's chair. He had his hands conveniently folded over the top of the chair with his head propped on his right arm. It seemed almost too convenient...almost. He slid the cuffs through the chair rail and secured them around Nightwing's wrists, a little disappointed when Nightwing didn't even stir. He tiptoed over to the door and pressed the microphones in his fingertips to it to hear what the people on the other side were saying.

"So why'd you bring him here? You knew Nightwing'd be furious. There are other places for him."

"What was I supposed to do with him? Drag him to Arkham and tell them, 'He thinks he's a superhero'? Yeah, that would go over real well. They'd lock me up for that."

"Hmpf. They could lock any of us up for that."

"You know what I mean, Barb. Seriously, what was I supposed to do? People would think he's one of us if I had just dropped him at some random hospital. There's no telling what our enemies would do to him. I couldn't just...I couldn't do that. I mean, he's crazy, but that doesn't mean we can just leave him on his own. He'll get himself killed. Look what he did to himself last night. Three broken ribs, two bones in his arm snapped in half...and this has to be his first night out. No one's ever seen him before. What's he gonna be like by the end of the week if we don't stop him now?"

"Hmm. I see your point. Still, you should have expected Nightwing to be mad."

Terry frowned. They thought he was crazy? They were the ones who were pretending to be Gotham's old defenders. But why would they say that when they thought no one was listening?

Terry didn't have time to ponder the question; Nightwing had woken up.

"Hn? What the heck?! Hey!"

Terry leapt back from the door as the two people, Robin and Batgirl, burst into the room.

"Stop him!" Nightwing cried as Terry leapfrogged over Batgirl and past Robin. He fled down the hallway, the two guards at his heels. He came to a T-intersection at the end of the hall and took a sliding turn to the right and continued running. He had no idea whether or not this was the way out, but he wasn't about to stop and try to figure it out. Better to keep moving so he didn't get caught again. He looked back; they were still chasing him, about ten feet away from him. He looked around again just in time to find the hallway become blocked by two other people. Those costumes were Static and Gear's, or at least their old ones from several decades before. But they were young enough that they looked the age that Static and Gear were when they actually wore those costumes.

Terry stopped short as something connected in his mind again. It almost made sense. He could see that everything he'd seen and heard since his suit malfunctioned was connected; they were all from the past. The buildings were small because that's how they were a few decades ago; the people were the same age they were decades ago; even the Batmobile was the same one that was being used about thirty years ago. There were only a few things that weren't right. First of all, he would have expected Batman to have been the first one to come into contact with him, but he hadn't seen the Old Man at all since he got here. Second, Nightwing should have been in Bludhaven at this time, having worked solo there for about ten years by now. He also wouldn't have seen Robin at all, if he was right about the time period. Robin, Tim Drake, would have stopped his crime-fighting career ten years before due to...that incident. His mind flashed back to the disturbing memory of Tim Drake's face shifting into that of the Joker. It had only happened a few months ago, the aftermath of the incident that ended Tim's career as a crime fighter and led to his estrangement from Bruce.

He quickly shut the memory back into the tight little box he kept it in and brought his attention back to his present predicament. He looked back and forth between the two groups of his captors and wondered how exactly he was going to get out of this one. Nightwing joined the other four, his hands still locked together, and they all started advancing slowly, as if they were stalking a bird. He looked back at the way past Static and Gear. He could probably get past them, if he wanted to. He still had his batarangs, which were loaded into his costume in clips that fed into his palm or over the top of his hands. He could see a way out past them, but he didn't want to risk his arm getting rebroken. Besides, he was still more curious than he was eager to leave. He wanted to know exactly what was going on here. He wanted to know how exactly he'd gotten to this weird version of the past, if it was the past, and how he was going to get back. And he really wanted to find out why these guys were working when they were obviously too exhausted to be effective. If you couldn't stay awake during a watch, you shouldn't be trying to take the watch. He wasn't about to leave until he figured it out. He stood slowly with his hands up and said, "I want to see the doctor who helped me. Where is she?"

Nightwing pushed through to the front and shoved Terry into the wall. "Give me one good reason to tell you."

Terry calmly raised an eyebrow and said, "I'm not your enemy."

"Oh? Not our enemy, huh?" He lifted his hands up to remind him of the handcuffs still on them and continued, "This isn't exactly convincing to me. Not to mention your little sprint just now. Care to explain?"

"Look, you would have done the same thing in my situation. You drugged me, took me I don't know where, locked me in a room with guards and handcuffed me to my bed. How was I supposed to know that you weren't my enemy? I wasn't sure you really were who you said you were and none of that was exactly convincing either. Tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing."

"I don't buy that lame-ass excuse for a minute! If you really don't think we are who we say, then why did you all of a sudden change your mind? Hm? Because you were cornered, that's why!"

"Because I saw those two and I realized what was going on...er, sort of." He gestured back toward Static and Gear. "You guys are easier to impersonate than them. I mean, who's going to try to replicate Static's electrical powers or Gear's machines? But you guys are pretty normal in comparison and I didn't recognize you at first. Although, considering the fact that you were asleep when I woke up, you shouldn't be angry about that. After all, Nightwing, you should know better. I know you were taught better."

"Why you little.... You stupid pointy-eared punk! You think you have the right to criticize me because you're using that name? You think you can just waltz right in here and tell me how to do my job?"

"Someone ought to." Terry growled back. "I think you've forgotten some key basic rules. What would he say if he knew you'd fallen asleep on watch? Betcha it wouldn't be pretty. I bet he'd tell you what an idiot you were and ask you whether you have some sort of death wish. He'd certainly never let you take a watch again. If he even let you go into that room in the first place. Knowing him, he'd probably have told you to let him take the watch, knowing you were too tired to do it yourself. Wouldn't he?"

Nightwing looked a little cowed at the mention of what trouble he'd've been in with Batman for the situation, as if it had been Bruce himself who had scolded him.

"You were just lucky I didn't do something worse than handcuff you to a chair."

"Alright, alright. I get it. You're not our enemy. But that doesn't make you a friend."

"Um, Nightwing...." Robin interrupted, frowning again. Nightwing stowed whatever he was getting ready to say next and waited for Robin to continue. "Was I the only one who noticed? Earlier, when he asked for the doctor, he said, 'Where is she'. He specifically asked for a female doctor. Why?"

Nightwing looked surprised, like he hadn't thought about it. "You're right, he did. And that's a good question. Why did you ask for a woman doctor?"

"Well, she is a woman, right? At least, you didn't correct me when I said that, so I'm guessing it's true." He stopped and waited for a reaction, but was met by silent stares. "I overheard Robin and Batgirl talking through the door a few minutes ago. Robin said he didn't want to drop me off at some random hospital, and Batgirl said that you were upset that he brought me here. That means that he likely brought me to someone you guys trust. There's one doctor you trust more than any other, and she's a woman. So is there a problem in my asking for a female doctor, when I'm pretty sure I know who you brought me to?"

They looked surprised. "You heard us through the door?" Robin wondered. "That door is really thick; I didn't think anyone could hear through it. It's not like we were shouting." He looked at Batgirl and something dawned on him. "You heard everything we said?" he asked, looking upset.

Terry nodded and said, "You were talking about the fact that Nightwing was angry with you for bringing me here. And it was very clear you thought I was crazy. You probably still do, don't you? And, now that I think about it, I do believe I heard a name. Yeah, you called her 'Barb'." He wondered how he'd missed that earlier. Probably because he'd been more interested in the fact that he'd been abducted, rather than figuring out what was actually going on. He could just hear Bruce scolding him now, Pay attention, McGinnis! "Well, are you going to let me see your doctor, or what? I have questions for her. Regarding my treatment."

Nightwing looked around at the others with a question on his face. Each of them shrugged or nodded in turn in silent acknowledgement. Nightwing turned back to Terry and said through his teeth, "Alright, you win. This way, please."

Terry went the way he indicated, watching him suspiciously, and he followed after, leaving the rest to go back to their duties. The two of them walked down the hall a ways, then Nightwing stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "In here." He pulled Terry toward the door on their right and knocked twice.

"Come in," called a kind voice from inside.

Nightwing opened the door and pushed Terry gently inside. "Your patient wants to see you. I'll be outside. Just in case," he added ominously.

Inside the office, there was a desk and a few bookshelves full of medical texts. Sitting at the desk was a short, kind looking old lady with white hair piled into a bun at the back of her head. Her face was full of wrinkles, but mostly around her eyes and mouth where her warm smile had etched them over the years. He knew at once that this woman was definitely Dr. Leslie Thompkins, Bruce's trusted friend. "It's been awhile since I've helped Batman. It's interesting to have done so again after ten years."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Dr. Thompkins. I've heard good things about you." He reached out and shook her hand. "You know, you're the first one to acknowledge me by my name. Here anyway."

"You mustn't hold that against them." she said, waving him toward the chair across the desk. "They're too used to the former Batman. They haven't recovered from his death yet."

Finally, he had confirmation of his hypothesis. "So, Bruce is dead, then? I was hoping I was wrong about that. The black they're all wearing? It's for mourning?"

Leslie nodded. "So, you know who your predecessor was?"

"Yes. Apparently, I've ended up in some alternate dimension or something. A world completely different from my own, because Bruce is still alive where I'm from. That was the last bit of information I needed to be sure. It definitely explains why he's not here. He'd never miss something like this. After all, he wouldn't let just anyone run around using his name, now would he?" He paused to gauge her reaction, but her face was completely still, as if none of this sounded strange at all. "That's what had me confused at the beginning. But, I knew if you were involved then they would have to be who they said they were." He paused again, but there was still no reaction from her, so he decided to change the subject. "Anyway, I'd like to know about my injuries. I could have sworn my ribs were broken, except Robin said that all of this happened last night. Can you explain?"

"Yes, of course." She seemed to have taken in all of the parallel world information without a second thought. She didn't miss a beat. "You've been here for eight hours. You came in with three fractured ribs and your left humerus and ulna were also broken. As to your rate of recovery, your ribs have already healed, and your arm should be finished healing within the next four to five hours. The reason for the speed of your healing is a dose of nanotech robots that was injected into your bloodstream when you were brought here. I've given you several doses of calcium to maintain the strength of your bones as they healed."

"Nanotech? Whoa. I'm guessing they're courtesy of Gear's ingenuity?"

"He's very proud of them."

"He should be. Doing the work of weeks in just a few hours? That's something to be proud of. Even the doctors back home don't have such advanced tools. And we're thirty years ahead of you." He paused for a moment. "So, how long until I can take this sling off? It's really annoying."

"Hm, I suppose some things don't ever change. Always too eager to go back to work." she sighed. "Alright, you can take the sling off in three more hours. But no strenuous activity, do you understand? I mean it, young man, not even lifting a heavy box; not for at least six hours! You don't want to break that arm all over again, do you?"

"Bruce really gave you a lot of trouble about that, didn't he?"

"Batman." she said warningly.

"Um, right, no strenuous activity for six hours, got it."

"And you really should wait until it's completely healed before you remove it. But I know to whom I'm speaking. You probably won't listen to a word I say." She shook her head, but smiled again. Then the fleeting smile vanished and her tone became very serious. "Young man, I have to wonder; do you fully understand the situation you're putting yourself in with the work you're doing? Do you understand the danger you'll be in? And the responsibilities you'll have?"

"Yes. Believe me, I've thought long and hard about this job. I know the risks. I'm willing to take those risks because I know the outcome is worth it. And I understand the great deal of responsibility that comes with being Batman. This isn't a job I take lightly, ma'am. Besides, the Old Man wouldn't have continued to let me work if he didn't think I was serious about it. He badgers me often enough, trying to get me to quit, but I don't want to. This might be a hard life, but it's the one I chose."

"And how long have you done this kind of work?"

"About two years. I've been doing this since my father was murdered. I met Mr. Wayne the same night, and learned his secret. When I came to him for help later, he sent me to the police. He hadn't been Batman for twenty years. At the time, I was annoyed because I thought he was writing me off, but now I realize he was sending me to one of his old partners, Commissioner Barbara Gordon. Well, I tried to go to the cops, but I got stopped along the way, and I lost the information I had. So I used the Batsuit to stop the criminal I was after from committing another crime that night and I've been Batman ever since." That was all true enough, but he skipped over the part about having stolen the Batsuit that night from under Bruce's nose. He didn't think that part would go over very well with her or with Nightwing, who was undoubtedly listening outside the door.

"You've been Batman for two years? Then why did you apparently seem to have such trouble last night? Robin told me you slammed into a wall. That seems to be the kind of mistake only a rookie would make."

"If Robin had been paying attention, he would have remembered that I have flight capability with this suit, and he would have asked himself not why did I slam into a wall, but why did I have to use the old grapple method in the first place." Terry said in annoyance. "All of my systems blacked out for a bit and I was in the middle of a 200-story drop. I'd like to see any of them get out of the same situation any better than I did, especially considering I couldn't see a darn thing."

Just then, someone hammered on the door. "Come in." Leslie called. Nightwing stuck his head in.

"Tim just told me there's a patient upstairs for you. An emergency. He needs you right away."

"Oh, dear! If you'll excuse me." Dr. Thompkins rushed out the door, grabbing her lab coat from the hat stand by the door as she went.

"So...." Nightwing said, once they were alone. "Parallel world, huh? That's a new one." He sounded skeptical. Terry couldn't blame him.

"Yeah, I know how it sounds, but how else would you explain it? Assuming neither of us is crazy, of course."

"But I don't assume that. If I were to assume, then I'd be willing to accept that theory as a possibility. Maybe. But there's one thing I find implausible. A second Batman. Why would Batman let anyone else do this kind of work, especially using his name? He was always pretty overprotective of us; always keeping a careful eye on us; even when I left Gotham he'd check up on my work. Make sure I was doing things right. But he was always in charge, so why would he relinquish that kind of control to someone who's not even fully trained? It doesn't make sense."

"What makes you think he did? Are you nuts? He's always got his eye on me. And then there's Commissioner Gordon in case I do something he doesn't catch. Trust me, there's no getting away with anything against the rules or completely against the law with them watching. He'd shut down the suit in an instant if he thought I wasn't keeping his good name. And if he shuts it down, it paralyzes the suit and whoever's in it. Besides, I am fully trained. I'm just lacking experience. The Justice League doesn't just take raw recruits."

"You're a member of the Justice League? Hn. Never would've guessed." Nightwing was still fidgeting with the handcuffs, trying to remove them. He seemed a little preoccupied by the locking mechanism. It was a pretty difficult lock to pick. Terry had tried before. His best time was four minutes with this pair, though normal handcuffs took him about two seconds, if that.

"Do you need help with those?" Terry asked offhandedly.

Nightwing lost his control and the pick slipped. He growled and punched the doorjamb. "How the hell did you break out of these cuffs so easily?!" he cried. His nerves were shot.

"Whoa, calm down, man." He put a hand on Nightwing's shoulder and tried to calm him down. He was sure this wasn't normal behavior for him; Bruce had no patience for people who were impatient. "It's just a pair of handcuffs. Nothing you need to get worked up about. I'll admit they're stubborn, but it's just another lock. C'mon, I was told you're an expert lock pick. You just have to calm down and take it slow." Nightwing took a deep breath and seemed to get his bearings straight, then nodded. Terry sat back on the desk and continued. "Okay, now feel the lock out, tell me how it works."

Terry looked on quietly while Nightwing, muttering unintelligibly to himself, picked the lock. When the cuff sprung open, Nightwing blinked in surprise, then let out a soft "Hah!" and opened the other cuff easily. He looked over to Terry, who was smiling slightly, then looked quickly away, embarrassed at his outburst. "Thanks. Guess I'm a little tired. Lock picking isn't something you should attempt when you're tired. It just gets frustrating. Here." He handed the cuffs back to Terry.

"Hey, I'm impressed it only took you three minutes once you started concentrating. It usually takes me four."

"You didn't pick your way out of them then, did you? How'd you get out? A key?"

"I don't need a key. These cuffs are connected to my suit. Just a thought opens them for me. Of course, I could pick them if I needed to; Bruce made me learn how to get out of those cuffs. Strictly no cheating with the synaptic controls. You know, in case I ever get caught up in my own cuffs when I'm not wearing the suit." He demonstrated the way the synaptic controls worked to open the lock on the cuffs for easy application.

"Ahhh. Synaptic controls. That explains some things. Gear's been working on something like that. He'd probably like a look at your suit. It's still in the conceptual stages; he hasn't come up with a way to do it safely yet. Not without fusing it directly into the nervous system. No way would we want to do that. Would you mind?"

"As long as he doesn't do anything to it I can't fix. It's a complicated program; I try to avoid needing to fix it."

Nightwing sighed. "Okay, so what am I supposed to do with you?"

"What do you mean?" Terry asked dubiously.

"Well, I don't think you should get involved in our operations--regardless of whether or not you're crazy--but I can't just keep you locked up in here. However, I'm absolutely certain that if we let you out on the streets, you'll get involved whether we like it or not. You wouldn't be able to help yourself, would you?"

Terry smiled wryly, "Probably not. Frankly, in my opinion, you're better off just telling me everything and involving me from the get-go, instead of forcing me to find out for myself, in possibly dangerous ways. But I'll bet you're not willing to do that, are you?"

Nightwing mirrored Terry's smile. "You'd win that bet. So we're in agreement? You can't keep your nose out of this."

"Not a chance."

"Well, hope you like it down here, 'cause I won't let you interfere with our operations."

"Hope you like chasing me, 'cause you'll be doing a lot of it until I get out of here."

They chuckled quietly at each other's challenge, then fell silent. "Well, at least that's cleared up. We know what to expect of each other, at least."

"Yeah, but what exactly am I supposed to do with the time I'm going to be stuck in here? I mean it'll take awhile before I can figure out how to get past you guys, and there'll be a lot of down time. Am I just going to be sitting down here twiddling my thumbs, or is there something useful I can do with my time?"

"I don't know. We'll figure it out later. Right now, I'm going to go get some sleep." He yawned, then added, "You'll probably want some regular clothes, won't you?"

Terry hadn't thought about it. He looked down at the Batsuit and sighed. He couldn't exactly blend in when he got out of here if he was wearing the Batsuit. He really did need civilian clothes. And who knew how long he'd be here? He could be here for the rest of his life, for all he knew. "Yeah, I guess."

"Come on, I'll loan you some of my old stuff. You'd probably fit into some of it. And I'll show you somewhere a bit more comfortable to sleep when you want to."

Once Terry had acquired a few changes of clothes, he was shown into a comfortably small room with creamy off-white decor. There wasn't much furniture in it, just a desk, a chair, and the bed. There weren't any windows, and Terry was beginning to suspect that this part of the building was underground, since he hadn't seen a window since he'd gotten here. There was a metal pendant light, old and dusty, hanging from the ceiling from a rusty chain. Terry had to duck to keep from hitting his head on it as he set the clothes on the end of the bed. There were two doors on the right wall which, when Terry inspected them, turned out to be a small closet and a cramped bathroom. Nightwing explained that the room had originally been Barbara's, but was empty now that she had moved out. He then went and Terry was left alone with his thoughts. He couldn't help but think of home.