A/N: So my crackship is forever haunting me with ideas. So here's another Helena Wayne/ Terry McGinnis story. Helena is from Earth-2 and Terry has been pulled back in time by Doctor Fate on Earth Prime to make sure he does something to ensure his future. Hope you find it as entertaining as I find it in my head. Important: I guess I should add this in because I forgot. I really hate the add-in of Terry being Bruce's "son" so to speak and since it was at the end of the series basically I'm taking it out. In this story Terry is NOT the blood relative of Bruce Wayne. -Hopefully people'll read enough to the A/N's to notice that.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, but I do screw them up with the purpose of entertaining fans.
Dreams
'…thoughts…'
"…speech…"
...
Displaced
.
...
Prologue
…
.
…
Everyday was same.
It was a never ending pattern that started with blurry blue eyes opening to a dark room, an alarm buzzing loudly, and ending with a body hitting the bed in that same room, exhausted from the events of the evening. Her life had taken on meaning in the form of sleeping, eating, going to school and working her ass off at night and there was no such thing as a break.
As that alarm clock clicked on, sending its annoying tone throughout that small bedroom her hand came out from under a warm comforter and groped around the air before slamming down mercilessly onto the object. She let out a sigh, glad for the quiet as she opened her eyes. It was still dark, thirty minutes after 5am and exhaustion poured from every fiber in her being.
It took effort to roll off from the bed, bare feet hitting a carpet so thin she could feel the lines of wood underneath and as the woman stretched her toned arms up above her head she sucked in air in the form of a yawn. A pang of pain shot through her right side and she was pulled back into the events of the night before briefly as she saw herself slam into the side of a metal cargo container and felt the slap of her purple cape against her calves at the force of the impact.
Fuck if everything on her body didn't hurt.
Dragging herself to the bathroom she flipped on the light and closed her eyes tightly against the glare of it, making a sound close to a growl as she grabbed the faucet and jerked the water on.
The night before had been fairly normal, as far as patrol went. She had come across a group of unfortunate men who had received a shipment of guns by a so far unknown seller. A few explosions, a few broken bones and a lot of weapons and ammunition sinking to the bottom of Gotham Harbor later left her getting in just shy of 3am and with an every day alarm of 5:30am she was functioning on mere scraps of sleep.
Leaning down, the first splash of cold water hit her skin and sent a shiver down her spine.
"Holy sh-…I'm awake." She muttered as her forearm bumped the faucet and turned the water warmer as she scrubbed her face clean with soap.
The morning routine was fairly basic. Hair was brushed and pulled up into a haphazard pony-tail, face was washed, teeth were brushed and a gym bag was grabbed with clothes for the day. Like always she would run out of the door forgetting breakfast, and like always she would regret that as her stomach would ache all through first period.
For the three months that Helena Wayne had been on that Earth under the name of Bertinelli, everyday had been the same.
Today…everything would change.
…
He dreamed he was falling.
The wind whipped around him, stealing the breath from his lungs as his heart beat mercilessly against the inside of his ribcage like it was pounding for its release. Dark hair blew into his eyes, plastered to his forehead then was swept back as his body twisted like a cat, aiming to right itself.
A cloud appeared and as his body fell through it his clothes were soaked through and then as if frozen in time for a moment he over looked the city. Even the lights that seemed cheerful couldn't light up the darkest parts of the shadows and his heart skipped one beat, then another.
Blue eyes stared as his fingers reached outwards as if trying to grab onto something.
It was his city. Gotham City. But it lacked the flying cars, the billboards of color, and his fingers were bare; they lacked the protection of a black suit.
Time sped up and the ground came up to meet him. In his last moments he thought of his mother, his little brother. He thought of Max and he thought of him.
His mouth opened to let out a noise, perhaps a scream or a plea and it was torn from his mouth as that too the wind whipped away.
A cry of desperation broke free as Terry jerked up to sitting straight. His body ached, it was cold from the bare floor he had been sleeping on and automatically as if it was his lifeline his hand jerked out behind him and fingers fisted in the material of his book bag.
In a way it was his lifeline, in a way it was his sanity.
It had been a week since he had fallen from the sky. Since the city lights had changed from something he had known to something from the past and he was still getting his feet under him.
The clock next to him read out that it was just before six in the morning and his stomach growled out in protest from the lack of food he had consumed in the past few days. That night Terry had made a decision, and today was the day he would carry it out.
No more floundering in the dark, no more letting his body sit idle and hungry. He'd do what he had to do to survive, to get home and when the sun set he'd fly.
Gotham City was his city, and he was Batman, and there was always the job to do.
...
A/N: So tell me what you think. Prologues are short but I'm well on my way to having Chapter One up and running. Hope you all think it has potential!
…Nuclotei