Life had me swarmed last week, so I couldn't find the time to post. Because of that, I added 6 more pages to this chapter to make up for it!

Pipe Bomb

Three: TERMINAL pt. 1

Standing within a pipe that laid right on the edge of Gotham Harbor, a shadow lurked and quivered with a dangerously provocative mixture of anger and ecstasy. As fading clouds pulled back from the crescent moon, illumination offered itself upon the sly silhouette to reveal the psychotic, ghoulish form of a man with white skin wearing a tattered strait jacket as his long, tar black hair flailed madly in the sweeping autumn wind. As the horrific memories of today played repetitively in a taunting fashion within his already disillusioned mind, he shot a fist straight into the lining of the pipe with a growl that would have made even the most vicious of dogs cower in terror. "She lived!" the ghoul's hateful intent vomiting from his countenance. "SHE LIVED!"

But just as quickly as it had come, the growl and rage of defeat melted away, suddenly transforming into a rumble of laughter as a crooked smile spread upon his lips decorated with black stitching, offering the illusion of them being sewn shut. "She…lived…Now I get to watch her die…" The male stood up straight and inhaled deep through his nostrils as if the very air was the man's most potent of drugs. "Maaaaaxxxxx…"

Max's recovery at Gotham Memorial Hospital had been surprisingly swift. The girl was a fighter, and in no time the lacerations from the glass and burnt flesh were healing quite nicely. But, even after nearly a week in the hospital with countless visits from Chelsea, Howie, Blade, Nash, and of course her sister and mom (and regrettably the fiancé), Max was not allowed to be released from her secured, solitary room. Terry had been in the hospital religiously. On "doom's day" (as she liked to call it), McGinnis had met her at Gotham Memorial to be treated for his own wounds – but after a day, he had been cleared for release and Max hardly saw her best friend any more after that. Part of it was because the streets of Gotham kept their vigilante busy; the other part was because officers had a strict policy on her visitors and how long or how often they could see her. The security detail outside consisted of two cops and at least one detective at all times, and from what she'd heard from Chelsea, there was always at least two police cruisers on the hospital premises. Every day when she or her friends or family asked the doctor when the girl would be released, they were always given a run-around answer. Today, on day five of her captivity, Max had had enough.

The detective sitting outside of the room had his legs crossed and began chowing down on an icing dipped donut when the door opened and Max – fully dressed in a pair of leggings and a batgirl t-shirt – stepped outside and proceeded to pass him. The detective jumped up in an instant and blocked the patient's way with a crooked smirk. "Whoooaaaa!" he slurred. "Where do you think you're going?"

Max snorted as she tried to maneuver past him. "Home." She noticed that her hall was empty – or at least that all the staff were in other rooms.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," replied the pervy-looking detective with a blatantly condescending tone, "but you're not well enough to go home just yet."

Gibson rolled her eyes. "Is that what my doctor said? Or just your boss?"

The detective whistled in admiration at the teen's moxie and leaned forward with a hand gently but firmly on her shoulder. "Why don't you just crawl back in bed and recover, okay?"

If there was one thing Maxine Gibson hated more than anything, it was being treated like a helpless child…and being told what to do. Maybe if they had given her a reason to stay, she'd do so without protest. But keeping the girl locked away without the slightest mention as to "why" was not only exhausting – but infuriating. And the way this dreg looked at her right now was beyond uncomfortable. But it was when his eyes lowered down to her developed breasts and stayed there that Gibson's resolve to get away from the creep became downright solidified. At this point, she felt safer with Mad Stan than this sly piece of trash. Every nerve in her body screamed that something was wrong – but Max's adrenaline response was leaning toward fight rather than flight. Max's brows narrowed dangerously as disgust at the continuation of his closeness made her feel both violated and violent. "Move. Or you will be moved."

"Is that so?" The detective's smirk got even bigger at the thought of a challenge, but he had a job to do and began shoving his charge back inside of her room. But Max was serious, and her mood officially foul. All the in-home training she'd done and her self-defense classes took immediate effect as he tried to force her to a place where she did not wish to be. If he wanted her to stay, this bastard would have to make her. Without warning, Max's right fist landed a strong uppercut on the detective's side jaw, causing him to reel back and let go of her momentarily before he growled in anger. "You little dreg!" he roared, advancing on the girl as he slapped her, spun her around, and slammed her front end against the hospital wall. "You little bitch," he whispered in her ear as she grunted against his strength. "You want to be a woman? I'll make you a fucking woman." He pressed his hips against her bottom as one fist had Max's hands flush against her back, and his other hand reached forward and gripped the tender flesh between her legs as he whispered that he was going to drag her in that room and teach her a "fucking lesson". Pun definitely – harassingly – intended.

She knew it. She fucking knew it. Max exhaled loud before slamming her head backwards against the detective's nose – breaking it. With a loud cry he fell back and grabbed the bloody, disfigured mass of bone and cartilage as the pink haired teen turned and slammed her foot straight into his crotch with all the force of hell itself. "AAAAAHHHHHHHH!' he hollered out in excruciating pain as the now pissed off girl practically went on a rampage.

"You! Disgusting! MOTHER FUCKER!" Max hollered out between blows as one fist clutched to his shirt and the other pounded him in the face. Then, something hard slammed against her, knocking her to the floor. One of the cops returning from a bathroom break witnessed the assault on his fellow law enforcer and launched into defensive mode without even bothering to wonder what on earth had started the beat down in the first place. He pinned Max on the floor and ordered her not to move. By now the hall was filling up with hospital staff, and the doctors rushed forward to put an end to the assault on their patient.

And then, the officer on top of Max was struck by a blow as a body lunged forward and had him pinned on his back, punching him repeatedly. Max sat up and saw Terry on top of the officer defending his best friend from what he saw as an attack. Chaos erupted on the hospital floor as security and officers and nurses tried to get a handle on the situation until eventually-.

"HEY!" yelled out an authoritative woman's voice, causing all the mayhem to come to an abrupt halt. All eyes turned to see Commissioner Gordon coming down the hall with pure anger in her aged glare. "What the hell is going on here?" demanded the Commissioner as she witnessed her officers piled on top of McGinnis, and Gibson being protected by a set of doctors.

Terry was forced to his feet and dragged in front of Barbara. "Your no good cops were attacking Max!"

The officer who had been on top of Gibson stepped forward, more confusion on his expression than worry of rebuke. "Commissioner, I left Larry in charge while I went to whiz-," Gordon gave him a look that made him correct himself, "-I mean, while I went to the bathroom. And when I came back, the girl was going straight Mortal Kombat on him! Look at him!" The officer motioned for the bloody and bruised Detective currently being treated by a nurse on the floor in front of the help desk. "I got her off of him, and that's when Son of Hulk over there," motioning for Terry, "jumped me." Max did everything in her power not to show some form of respect for the officer's OBVIOUS nerdy puns.

Detective Larry jumped in first before his charge could. "It's true, Commish! The girl was trying to leave and when I stopped her, she just went crazy and attacked me. The damn bitch should be locked up in the psych ward, if you ask me."

Bitch? BITCH?! Max lunged forward for the detective – who flinched in terror – by the ridiculous onslaught of nurses that had her surrounded. "YOU LYING ASS DREG!" Max looked at Barbara and pointed an accusatory finger at the detective. "That piece of shit sexually assaulted me."

"AW C'MON, COMMISH!"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" snapped Gibson before continuing desperately, "I was trying to leave, he wouldn't get out of my way and was all up in my space. So yeah, I hit him. Why? He wouldn't back up off me. He made me uncomfortable. Uncomfortable how? I've been approached by filth plenty times to know when a perv walks in the room. THEN that bastard slammed me against the wall, pressed his dirty boner on my ass, and grabbed me between my legs while saying he was going to drag me back in the room and teach me a lesson!"

That low down son of a-! Terry was the one who lunged next: straight for the detective. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Chaos began to erupt all over again as McGinnis somehow managed to make it five whole steps in the detective's direction before four officers managed to pin him down all over again.

"ENOUGH!" yelled Gordon, massaging her temple as the hall once again grew quiet under the sound of her authority and irritation. "Whoever is lying or not, we'll know once we look at the tape."

The detective swallowed and practically squeaked. "Tape?"

Well, well, well. Maybe the kid wasn't as far off based as Larry made it out to be. Barbara raised a brow and then furrowed it. "Yes. Tape." Her finger pointed up to a small red light and device that rested above to the right, offering a full vantage of Max's door and any activity that would have gone on outside of it. The detective paled a little and Barbara growled. "Maybe I don't need the tape after all. Escort Detective Larry down to my office." A group of officers sighed and hauled the detective from the floor and down the hall as Barbara shook her head and waved a hand. "Let son of Hulk go, too. I want him and 'batgirl"," Barbara smirked at Max's top, "in a cruiser now. Consider this the girl's official discharge."

"Am I going home, Commissioner?" inquired Max.

Barbara sighed. "…There's something we need to discuss, first."

Within Barbara Gordon's office, Max sat rigidly, uncomfortable. She had been here alone for a few hours and the tension was getting so thick she could cut it with a finger. The sun had long disappeared from the sky as the black of night threatened to overrun even the inside of the Commissioner's office. Eventually the sounds of everything going on within the main building quieted down, and Max knew that most of the workers had either gone home, or were patrolling the Gotham streets – which were far more dangerous at night than during the day. A grumble in her stomach grew louder and more noticeable as Gibson's legs began to bounce up and down anxiously.

Just then, the office door opened and in stepped Gordon in her black shirt; the guns holstered on both sides of her ribcage revealing that despite her old age, Barbara would put a threat down without the slightest hesitation. Somehow, the original Batgirl didn't look quite as old anymore. "Sorry about the wait, kid," apologized Barbara. "And…I'm sorry about what Larry did to you. He's been taken care of."

Max swallowed. "You sound like a gangster when you say it like that."

Gordon raised a brow. "Does that make you feel sorry for him?"

Max's face had never been so serious in her life. "No. I like the sound of it."

Barbara smirked. "You know, I think I like you, kid. Definitely a hell lot better than some people." Her head turned towards the blinds, knowing the presence that waited on the other side of them.

A muffled voice from outside her office window exclaimed with hurt, "Hey!" Gordon walked to the window as if on cue and pulled it open to find nothingness. But once she closed it back, a form standing right in front of Max materialized out of the nothingness. The Dark Knight pouted at Gordon and stuck out his tongue childishly – knowing the source behind her previous words – before turning to face his alias's best friend. "You okay?" Batman asked.

"No!" Max leaped out of the chair and into his arms. They never really had time to discuss what had happened that day at her apartment with everything going on at the hospital and barely being able to see each other. But in the brief glimpse of her face that he saw, he knew everything she was going to say before she said it. Max buried her face into the hero's shoulder. She was trembling to the point that he pulled her closer and deeper into the embrace. "Thank you," Max finally whispered. "Thank you for saving me…"

His "Batman" voice nearly vanished altogether as he murmured, "Maaaax….", and comforted her.

Barbara coughed and the two released their hug, but never each other as Gibson leaned against the Batman whose hand was securely around her waist. Barbara could see it. "I hate to break up this festival of gratitude, but there's a reason both of you are here tonight. Miss Gibson?" Barbara gestured toward the chair and Max quickly took it.

Batman remained standing and folded his arms, already not liking where this was going just from what he could sense in the atmosphere. "What's going on, Gordon?" he demanded, his vigilante persona on its highest level, now. "You had her under complete surveillance at the hospital like you were worried about something."

Barbara leaned her bottom against the edge of her large desk and folded her arms as well. "As much as I hate to admit it, I was worried about something…I still am." She saw their expressions urging her to explain just as a knock reverberated across her door. Though they may have been surprised, she wasn't. "Come in." Obediently the door opened, and in stepped none other than Bruce Wayne, himself.

"Bruce."

"Barbara," greeted the old man before taking a seat next to Max. Uncharacteristically though, the senior reached out a hand and patted Max's in an attempt at reassurance. It was awkward, of course. But Max appreciated the gesture and responded with a light, nervous smile.

Max began fiddling her fingers. "Now I'm really worried."

"Don't be," said Batman.

But Barbara immediately cut in coldly, making his words almost nonexistent. "No. She should be."

Bruce removed his hand from Max's and narrowed his brows a little as he gripped the handle of his cane. "Looks like you've got some explaining to do, Barb."

Gordon sighed but couldn't fight the smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. "You know?"

Bruce grunted. "I've got a general idea. But it'll feel good to have someone else do all the explaining for once."

Quiet filled the lit office for just a few more brief moments before the Commissioner rounded her desk and took a seat, lacing her fingers together before her lips and never taking her eyes off of Max. "What happened at your apartment five days ago – well, it wasn't an accident."

Batman grew taut. He had suspected that after he saw the note in her closet of a skull with pink hair just moments before the bomb detonated. But hearing it was intentional made this all the more real. Barbara ignored the Bat and continued, "You were targeted, Miss Gibson. In fact, we have reason to believe that you still are. That's why I was so strict on your staying at the hospital. I know it was difficult for you not knowing what was going on, but I was trying to do my part the best that I could before this moment came."

Max shook her head, somehow having trouble understanding what was going on. "This makes no sense. Why would anyone want to kill me? I mean, I'm awesome as fuck, sure, but why-?" She paused and continued quickly: "Is it Kobra? Are they after me for what happened to Zander?"

Barbara shook her head. "After what happened to Zander, KOBRA has been fairly quiet. Besides, they'd have a bigger quarrel with Batman than they would with you. You were to be Zander's Queen. As much as they may not have liked it, they're more likely to leave you alone out of respect for their former leader's affections for you than try to kill you. That hate would be directed to the vigilante."

Max blinked. "Maybe…Maybe someone knows that I…" She motioned towards Batman and then linked her fingers together to indicate that the two of them were close, or somehow knew each other. "Maybe they're trying to get to him through me…"

Bruce shook his head this time. "As much of a possibility as that would be, I highly doubt that. It was too showy. If that were the case, they would have killed you with him there to watch. Or at least took you and made him hunt for you only to find you gone."

Barbara's brows arched a little as she whispered softly, grievingly: "…like Jason…"

Jason Todd. His former Robin. Although his face remained practically unreadable, the lowering of Wayne's eyes said it all. "Exactly."

"Then who-?" started Batman, getting a little tired of not getting straight to the point. Barbara pulled a file out of her drawer and slid it across the desk where Batman reached the manila folder (shocked that it wasn't a holo-file) and opened it. Almost instantly, the white, cowled eyes grew abnormally large as the Dark Knight shot Gordon an almost hateful stare. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"

Max could feel her breath growing shallower and shallower by the second. Judging from his reaction, this was far from good. "What?!" she nearly screeched. "What is it?!"

Batman ignored her. "Since when did this happen?" he asked the Commissioner.

Barbara clenched her jaw. "About…two and a half, three weeks ago."

"What happened three weeks ago?!" interrupted Max.

"And you're just now saying anything about it?!" questioned Batman, disbelievingly.

"I just found out not too long ago. And it wasn't priority."

"So what classifies as priority to you guys, Barbara?"

"What's going on?"

"An apartment blowing up?"

"Guys…."

"Batman…" warned Gordon.

"Dozens of people killed and injured on the street?"

"Will someone tell me what's happening?"

"Or when there was nothing left of Max to put in a body bag?"

"SOMEONE TALK TO ME!" screamed Gibson with a slam of her fist on the arm of her chair. The room grew silent as Barbara and Batman faced the teen girl with lost expressions. Max huffed. "Talk to me. What's going on?" When no one said anything, Max got up from her chair and approached her disguised best friend, reaching for the manila in his hands. His face was full of warning, urging her not to look – but she did anyway. Quietly, Max took the envelope from his fingers, and opened the file. "Oh my God…" she whispered, dropping the set of papers and throwing a hand over her mouth, the other to her chest. She didn't know if she was going to vomit, or if her lungs were about to stop working.

Inside the file were two pictures side by side on top of a set of documents. One picture was the boy everyone at Hill High knew him to be, the other picture was the monster he truly was; the teen who felt so threatened by Max's brilliance that his only logical resolve was to "eliminate the competition" and kill her.

Carter Wilson. AKA? Terminal.

Now it was Bruce's turn to talk. "Nearly three weeks ago, there was a technical malfunction within the Juvenile Detention Center where Wilson was being held. A series of mechanics within the center went haywire. It was almost as if they were toys being controlled by a remote control. In the midst of the malfunction that left three guards in critical condition, there was a breakout of ten delinquents. While nine of the escapees were quickly apprehended, the tenth had yet to be found – in fact, it was almost like he'd completely disappeared altogether. When the other nine were asked about what happened, they spilled the beans. You see, the tenth had just been using them as a cover all along. He knew that they'd get caught, and used them to keep the officers distracted from his presence until he'd already disappeared in the fray. It was revealed that the tenth had caused the mechanics to malfunction and attack. And that he had plans when he got out…Plans for revenge against the one girl who ruined everything he'd ever worked for."

Barbara nodded her head. "And he means business too. By the time I'd gotten this information, we were swelled with other issues. I didn't think he'd really come back, or much less go this far. But now we know that I was wrong. And that's why I wanted to keep you in that hospital."

Max lost her balance. "All those people," she whispered in remembrance of the carnage the explosion had caused around her home. "So many people were hurt, killed, just to get to me…" Trying to kill her was one thing. Max could handle that. It wouldn't be the first time that Terminal or any other villain for that matter had attempted the feat – but it was the knowledge that her presence and her enemy's desire to end her life being responsible for so many others suffering, that made Max uneasy. Her breaths grew sporadic and short as she reached a hand out for Batman. "I can't breathe."

Batman was at her side in an instant. "It's a panic attack, Max. Focus on my breathing. Match yours with it."

"My family…"

Barbara stepped in next, running a palm along the girl's back. "Your family is safe. Wilson surprisingly has showcased no interest in them whatsoever. For now, at least. But just to be safe we've got them under police protection."

Max nodded her head and Batman felt her fingers lace through his for comfort. "Slow your breaths, Max," the Dark Knight encouraged. "I'm right here...There you go." His breaths were slow and drawn as Gibson eventually matched her breathing with his. Batman held her close, feeling her body become in tune with his own until calm overwhelmed the girl yet again. Somehow a fiery shiver raced across his spine and groin as the simple act of breathing together shifted into something far more intimate. McGinnis mentally slapped himself for thinking like that at a time like this.

Max sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "What do I do now? I can't go back home. I can't stay with my family because they'd definitely be in danger then…" The pink haired brain was subdued with a swarm of confusing thoughts and questions. "Where will I stay? Will I have to leave Gotham?" Max gave Gordon a serious look. "I'm not going to be chased out of my city by some maniac."

"She's more than welcome to stay with me, at the Manor," offered Wayne, much to the surprise of everyone in the room. "It'll be the safest place for her, and the cave could use an extra set of hands."

But Barbara shook her head in disagreement. "As true as that is, I don't think that's a good idea for now. You're Bruce Wayne," the Commissioner stressed. "If you take in this girl, it'll definitely get out. The last thing we need is that psycho finding out what's in your basement."

"…She'll stay with me," came the deep voice of the city's revamped hero. Although he could feel the gathered group's questioning gazes, the teen vigilante was not backing down from his solidified resolve. "More specifically, she'll stay with me." His voice modulated to the one that Max knew best, and everything became plain.

TO BE CONTINUED…