Disclaimer: I don't own it.

A/N: First foray into the amazing world of Batman Beyond. Just a little story idea that I got a couple of days ago while watching the third season. I hope you all enjoy.

Bruce leaned on his cane, unable to take his eyes off the bed. Terry was propped up against the headboard surrounded by pillows, a light blanket covering him. He was asleep, though it wasn't restful, if his movement and mumbles were any indication. Despite the painkillers flooding his system he could still see the pain lines at the corners of the teen's mouth and eyes.

It had been a quiet night, for which Bruce had been glad. He knew people accused him, rightfully, of being cold and driven but he wasn't stupid and he could see Terry desperately needed sleep. Dark lines under his eyes set off their color and as much as Terry tried to hide it from him, Bruce could tell he was running on fumes.

He'd been ready to call the teen back when the police scanner had gone off, reporting a break in at an electronics store. Terry had simply sighed before heading towards the disturbance.

Unsurprisingly enough it had been the Jokerz, though they'd finally decided they were tired of Batman ruining their heists.

Terry, expecting their normal tricks and dead tired had gone in with little forethought. Before he'd been able to make a move three spliced Jokerz had jumped him. He'd done his best to hold them off but his exhaustion coupled with their strength had bested him. After nearly half an hour with nothing from Terry Bruce had been ready to get in the car with Ace and head to the store to find his protégé.

The only things that stopped him was the fact Barbra hadn't called him, meaning the Police were busy some where else and the vital signs he was getting from the suit showed that all of Terry's vital signs were stable, though his breathing was a little slower, showing he was unconscious.

Five minutes later Terry's voice reached him, soft and pain filled. "Wayne?"

"I'm here. Are you alright McGinnis?" His fingers bit into the console and he had to remind his lungs to work. He'd heard Terry in pain before but this was the worst by far.

"No. There's something with my arm and it hurts to breathe. I'll be back in a minute." The connection died and Bruce turned away from the computer, eyes going to Ace who was watching him.

He slowly got to and made it over to the landing platform just as Terry landed. The canopy slid open and he climbed out of the Batmobile with none of his usual grace. His left arm was hanging limply at his side and his right arm was across his stomach holding his ribs.

Reaching out with a hand that trembled, hoping Terry wouldn't notice Bruce removed the cowl, dropping it to the ground. Terry glanced at him with pain glazed eyes, skin even paler against the suit. He'd managed to get Terry patched and upstairs into one of the beds.

Bruce was drawn from his thoughts when a warm wet nose was thrust into his hand. He looked down to find Ace looking up at him, dark eyes filled with compassion. "I know."

His eyes were again drawn to the bed again when Terry shifted, one hand clutching the blanket. A black brace held his left shoulder in place so it wouldn't slip out as he slept. Putting Terry's shoulder back in had not been pleasant. The teen had been in so much pain he'd barely been able to sit still and he hadn't dared to give him any drugs before he knew what hurt.

Luckily, he remembered how to put shoulders back in place so at least that had been quick, though Terry had drawn blood he'd bit his lip so hard. After that he'd doped the boy up before putting the brace on and wrapping his ribs, four of which were cracked. The rest of the teen's body was covered in various bruises and scratches, but those would heal without help.

He still had to call Terry's mother and tell her he'd need her son to stay with him for the next couple of days. It would give Terry time to heal without having to hide his injuries from his family, assuming his mother wouldn't feel the need to intrude. Terry's shoulder would need more time to heal and he'd have to do physical therapy to keep the muscles strong but they deal with that hurdle when it was time.

Feeling his lower back twinge Bruce settled into the chair by the bed, eyes never leaving Terry. He'd drifted back into the lower levels of sleep, breathing shallow against the bandages. Terry had always seemed unbelievable young to Bruce but now, asleep and injured in the big bed he looked even younger.

Bruce had no problems admitting (to himself at least) that the first time he met Terry he'd been drawn to him. Something about the teen's attitude, his passion, his spirit which instead of being diminished by his father's murder had just seemed to blaze all the brighter. At one level he felt bad about sending Terry into situations that could lead to his death but at the same time it was his choice in the end.

After the first time he'd used the cut off switch on Terry he'd never touched it again, even to stop him from entering situations that could be fatal. The choice was ultimately Terry's and he wasn't going to break the teen's trust.

Terry moaned in pain as he tried to move, putting weight on his dislocated shoulder. Without thinking Bruce rested a hand on the teen's chest, fingers spread in an attempt to convey comfort to his companion. He watched as Terry slightly rolled into the touch, taking the pressure off his shoulder. His hand came up, fingers curling around Bruce's wrist.

Bruce would never admit to anyone, or aloud that he loved Terry and he would certainly never tell the young man. He'd managed to live the past two decades with very little human contact and he would continue the tradition. Just having Terry around was enough for him. He glanced at Ace who was lying on the floor, ears pricked. "Wake me if anything happens."

Ace whuffed softly and Bruce settled deeper into the chair, hand still resting on the teen's chest. He knew when he woke his arm would be stiff but he couldn't bring himself to care. All that mattered was Terry's comfort.