PART III: Twilight

Chapter 1: Starcrossed

BB + 15, Amada Waller's Living Room

As Amanda Waller left the room with her parting words of advice, Terry McGinnis decided to stay for a while before he returned home. Left to himself – he knew no guards would be heading his way – he let himself relax with one of the techniques he had studied over the years to calm his temper. Breathing more deeply and steadily, Terry started to truly absorb all that Waller had told him - about Bruce, about him, about Batman.

It was a lot to take in. Between the anger at being someone's puppet and the realization of Bruce's innocence, Terry wasn't sure what he wanted to do. It was hard to believe it had come to this. All his life he had fought against fate as he understood it, demanding to run his life on his own terms. It was a struggle he fought with varying degrees of success ever since Juvie, when the Mad Dog tried to convince him that they were fated to be one and the same.

Though he didn't study philosophy until much later in life, he always instinctively understood the nature of his personal struggle between free choice and determination. Philosophers, scientists and others had agonized over it for millennia without ever coming to a clear-cut answer. Just when it seemed free choice had won out, with him fully becoming Batman, along came the revelation that Waller had set it up from the beginning – well, part of it, at least. Even his father's death seemed predetermined after that discovery. He felt more helpless and angry than ever before.

Yet, ironically enough, it was now, when Terry felt himself the freak creation of someone else's fantasy, a helpless robot designed without his knowledge, that he possessed more choice than ever before. Simply put, the fate of Batman himself – the symbol, the legend - was completely in his hands. It was his to bury with Bruce or continue the mission. He had to decide, once and for all, whether he truly wanted to be Batman, whether this was the mission he wanted for himself. Most of all, he had to know that he was genuinely free to choose his own fate…

BB – 2, McGinnis Home, Back Porch, Sunset

Terry watched the sunset with his brother just as they had many times before. Only things were different now, and Terry couldn't bring himself to enjoy the beautiful sight as he once did. He saw and heard the constant fighting between Mom and Dad on a daily basis. He tried to ignore it, getting into fights or pulling cycling stunts. This only exacerbated the situation, and Terry's antics were now added to the ever-lengthening list of subjects Mom and Dad fought about. The result seemed inevitable.

Terry knew about divorce. Many of his friends' folks were separated or in the process of doing so. Yet somehow he wanted to believe that his family was different, that he would be fortunate enough that Mom and Dad would reconcile. He felt guilty over his share in the fights, and he often found himself feeling entirely to blame for the lousy situation at home. More than that, though, he was angry - at the powers that be, at the world, at anything and anyone. It didn't help, though, because he felt he could do nothing about the actual problem at home. This only made him lash out more, for all the good it did.

"Terry?"

Terry broke away from his train of thought to see his brother look at him pleadingly.

"What is it, Matt?"

"Why are Dad and Mom fighting all the time?"

"I don't know, Matt. I just don't know"

There was no need to share his own feelings of guilt with his brother. That was a burden he wanted to carry alone.

"It's my fault, isn't it? It's because I keep running off or getting everyone scared all time, right?"

Terry look at Matt, shocked. He never thought for a moment that Matt might be blaming himself as well. This was something he couldn't allow to happen. He cared too much for Matt.

"Matt, no, it's not your fault. Sometimes these things happen. It's nobody's fault. You can't blame yourself for this"

Terry wished he could give himself the same advice.

"But isn't there some way to make it better?", Matt asked, "I don't want Mom and Dad to break up"

Terry sighed deeply and shifted his eyes to the floor of the porch. For Matt's whole life, Terry had tried his best to protect him, even if he tormented and picked on him along the way. Now, there was nothing he could do. It made him feel even more helpless.

"No, Matt. I wish there was"

Matt looked down, too, so Terry tried to console him. He put his hand on Matt's shoulder and said,

"Matt, whatever happens, whether Mom and Dad break up or not, I'll never leave you"

"Promise?"

"I promise"

"OK", Matt said sheepishly.

Terry hoped that he could make good on it. It was the only shred of hope he had left in the world.

BB – 1, Rhino's Chili, Last Day of Spring Break

The two-week long heat wave finally broke. Clouds gathered on the horizon, and soon thunder, lightning and rain combined in a great symphony overshadowing the previous intermission. Terry ducked for cover under the awning of the restaurant, still waiting for Dana. As he looked at his watch, he suddenly heard her crying for help.

Some thug was harassing her and wouldn't leave her alone. Terry immediately jumped out into the rain and wiped the floor with the culprit. Furious that someone had tried to hurt Dana, he went further, repeatedly pummeling the guy's face. Then he picked him up, smashed him against the wall, and cocked back his fist. The smooth talking punk tried to keep up his nerve, taunting Terry,

"What, you want this broad?"

Terry hit him as hard as he could in the stomach. Then he picked him up again, and made his intentions crystal clear,

"You stay away from her, or I'll make you wish you were never born. Now scram."

The harasser fled as fast as his legs could carry him. Terry then turned to Dana to make sure she was all right and then they both walked into the restaurant.

They both ordered their chili. Terry noticed something was wrong with Dana. She was usually the one doing all the talking; now she was silent. Terry tried to inquire into the matter,

"Dana, are you OK? That dreg's gone"

"It…it's not him, Terry. We need to talk. I mean, really talk"

Terry wished this day wouldn't come. He knew it would, though he tried to put it off as long as possible.

"About what?", he asked, feigning ignorance of the forthcoming topic of conversation.

"Terry, it's been great meeting you for the past couple of weeks, but I feel like you've been shutting me out. You used to tell me what was going on with you. I was someone you could trust. Now, you tell me about as much as you tell Howard. I'm worried, Terry."

Terry looked down, ashamed. He knew Dana was right. After thinking for a few minutes, he decided to open up, against his better instincts. There was nothing to lose. If he remained closed, he would definitely lose Dana. At least this way, she might stay with him. Sighing deeply, he asked,

"What do you want to know?"

"What happened between you and your father?"

Terry closed his eyes tightly, trying to overcome the urge to clam up right then and there. Slowly he opened his eyes again, this time betraying a strong sense of pain and hurt that Dana clearly recognized. Terry answered slowly,

"We'd been arguing for a while, ever since I started fighting bullies at school. After a couple of weeks, I finally told him everything. About Brady, the kids in Juvie, the promise I made. He threw it back in my face. He called me a punk, said I hadn't changed at all since I left Juvie. We haven't talked since."

Without noticing, Terry had closed his eyes again, trying to hold back the tears. Dana saw clearly that Terry was suffering, but she was glad that he decided to open up to her. Now the question was how to help him.

"Terry, I'm sure your father's just worried about you, and tried to shock you into changing. He probably regrets saying what he did. My father does it all the time; it doesn't mean he doesn't love me"

"It's not the same, Dana. Besides, sometimes I feel that he's right, that I really haven't changed at all"

Dana held Terry's hand and squeezed it tightly. Terry looked up

"You're being ridiculous, Terry. Yes, you still have a short fuse, but I've never seen anyone try as hard to help people he's never met. What would make you think you're still the same?"

"I almost killed someone inside, Dana. All because he pushed the wrong buttons, not even to save another life. What's to stop it from happening again, only this time it'll be too late?"

Dana was pleasantly surprised, as well as relieved. Knowing Terry had the same fears she was having about him gave her hope.

"Terry, you're not the same person you were. I know – I've seen both versions of you. The fact that you're afraid of the consequences of going too far is already a good sign"

Terry looked away and shook his head sadly.

"I don't know if it's enough. I can't stop what I'm doing, Dana, my soul won't let me. But deep down, I'm afraid I'll end up becoming a killer, just like Mad Dog wanted me to be"

Dana lifted Terry's despondent head. In her eyes was a look of fierce determination

"That's not going to happen. I won't let it happen. But you have to let me help you"

"How?"

"I don't know, but we'll find a way. We've got to. I know you, McGinnis. You can be more stubborn than a mule. I've never known you to be the type to give up, ever. You can't do so now"

Terry took a deep breath, heartened by Dana's faith in him. Maybe…

"OK"

Terry let a sad smile creep onto his face as he got up from the booth. He held Dana's hand as tightly as he could, like a drowning man clinging for dear life. He just hoped he wouldn't be swept away by the raging storms, both outside and within.

PART III: Twilight

Chapter 2: Reflections

BB – 1, Gotham Central Park

"Check"

Warren contemplated the threat to his king for a few minutes and then turned to look at Harry. It was good to finally see a friend away from that damned building. The thunderstorm had cooled the air considerably, and there was a slight wind blowing through the grass and trees in this, one of the few natural parks left in Gotham City.

Warren and Harry had always been friends as far back as he could remember. Warren was more outgoing and friendly, Harry more shy and introspective. Warren had more social skills, Harry was stronger intellectually. Together they complemented each other. Warren would help Harry out with advice about friends and later girls; Harry helped Warren with the highest-level math problems he sometimes struggled with. Harry sometimes even let Warren beat him in chess even though he was a stronger player.

There was something troubling about Harry today. He was reserved in the extreme, barely talking to Warren as they sat down to play. He also kept looking away from him and folding his arms. Harry wasn't very social, but he always felt comfortable around Warren. Warren decided to approach the issue indirectly,

"So how's the family?"

Harry continued to look down as he replied,

"I haven't seen Allysa or the girls since we split up. The only time I even hear from her is when alimony's due"

"I'm sorry to hear that, Harry. I still keep in touch with Mary and Matthew, and Terry's with me. I tell you, that boy's a real handful", Warren said as he effectively blocked the check.

"At least you get to see your children", Harry said softly, "I never have time because of the company. They've got me working almost 15 hours a day, now"

Warren sighed. Harry wasn't the only one destroyed by the Wayne-Powers conglomerate. Breathing deeply, he started,

"What happened to us, Harry? We used to believe we could change things for the better. At least at our old firm we used to talk daily. I hardly see you or anyone else anymore. I don't even know what it is you do"

Harry became visibly more uncomfortable and looked as if he wanted to run away right then and there. What was he supposed to tell Warren? That his concern for the material welfare of his children led him to agree to work in the restricted areas in the building, effectively signing a deal with the Devil? That most of his friends were either dead or disappeared, disposed of after they'd outlived their usefulness to Derek Powers?

Harry was ashamed to even look at Warren. He knew his friend had always had a strong moral fiber. How was he supposed to tell him that the allegations about Powers were just the tip of the iceberg? That even now he was developing a new, horrifying nerve gas?

Harry got up and nervously apologized,

"Listen, Warren, I…I just remembered that I forgot to do some things at the lab"

"But I thought you also arranged to get out for an hour?"

"I did, it's just…look, we'll do this another time"

As Harry ran off, Warren thought about the slogan for Wayne-Powers – "Bringing people together".

How ironic.

BB – 1, Gotham D Train

As Warren rode the train home, he took the time to look out at the city. Usually he sat and read a book, but today he felt like looking outward. Warren looked at the tall buildings and the slum tenements, and slowly he started to realize what Terry was talking about when he said Warren didn't see reality for what it was.

A few decades ago, when Warren was still a youth, Gotham city was a cesspool of low-level crime and corruption on a level that exceeded even New York City during its worst years. Then Neo-Gotham came to be. The city expanded outward leaving the historic core to rot away. The rich and powerful were invited to build huge towers in closely guarded areas, and slowly but surely the city's infrastructure – roads, water, transportation – improved tremendously. Derek Powers did much toward that end, always showing up at ceremonies to cut the ribbons and say a few sound bytes.

That was Neo-Gotham on the outside, a shining city just like its neighbor, Metropolis. Appearances, however, were deceiving. Metropolis was actually cleaned up. Gotham had just been airbrushed, a shiny coat of whitewash meant to hide the rust and the rot hiding just underneath. If you looked closely, you could see slum tenements hiding behind the beautiful new buildings. You could see the anarchy – gangs like the Jokerz and the Ts assaulting people in broad daylight without so much as a cop in sight.

The rich companies didn't even bother to rely on the police, hiring their own private security forces – some might call them armies – instead. Even the police itself had changed. Gone were the beat cops and detectives, people who, even if overwhelmed, could at least be relied on to try and help. Warren remembered how he'd looked up to the GCPD beat cops that patrolled his streets, even if it was only sporadically. How brave they must be, he thought, to risk their lives like this for him just to show they're there.

Now they were very much like the security forces Warren despised at Wayne-Powers, a uniformed, heavily armed strike force ready to move in the case of an extreme emergency but unable to ensure basic law and order on the streets. Most of Warren's neighbors didn't even bother to call them.

Then there was Batman, another symbol that disappeared along with old Gotham. Warren had always been ambivalent about the vigilante, admiring his courage and heroism, but disdainful of his often brutal methods and fearful that he might one day go over the edge and become like the criminals he fought. Warren always hoped that the legal authorities would eventually be able to take over and remove the need for people like him. For a while, it looked like neo-Gotham would be just such a normal city.

Warren now saw it was all a lie. Gotham was a glistening sham, and no amount of technology could cover up the corruption and lawlessness. If anything, Warren missed the old city, with its criminals, cops and corrupt politicians – he even missed Batman. At least he had been a symbol of hope, in his own way.

Now, the city was overshadowed not by the Bat Signal or the sound of police sirens, but by the image of Derek Powers. The man held the city in his grip. Warren still remembered TV spots showing Derek rubbing elbows with the Mayor and the Governor and other movers and shakers in the city.

Derek owned the city at the top, but the gangs owned the streets. Every few blocks, Warren could see someone else being harassed by the multitude of gangs. When they were occasionally arrested, they turned out to be middle to upper class kids who were simply bored with their lives. That was another difference between the two cities – many of old Gotham's crooks at least pretended to use poverty as an excuse, wrong-headed though it was. Neo-Gotham's crooks had so much contempt for the law they didn't even bother with such things.

As he got off the train at his stop, he saw a couple of Jokerz run off, an injured woman left in their wake. Warren rushed over to help tend to her injuries. The woman turned toward him with a look of relief but also fear – no, terror. Warren froze for a moment and then treated her wounds as best he could. As the woman meekly thanked him, Warren went home.

Taking off his coat, he uncharacteristically smashed the wall and then fell into his chair, his head hung in despondency. Terry went through this hell every day. He could hear him in his head, back at their last but seemingly final argument,

"Have you ever looked into the eyes of victims? Seen them get beat up? Do you know what it's like to look into the eyes of kids you know are going to be horribly murdered the minute you leave, and there's nothing you can do about it? Do you know what it's like to see thugs attack people and see your own face instead of theirs, knowing you were once the same and still could be? Do you?"

Holding his head in his hands, Warren was on the verge of tears. He had regretted what he'd said earlier, but he hadn't fully absorbed what Terry had told him until now. No, he never saw it, never allowed himself to see it. He felt like such a coward.

Terry's actions now seemed even less that of an angry kid, but rather that of a deeply compassionate human being who could not stand by and allow injustice to happen. Someone who simply refused to give up hope rather than turn away and pretend nothing was wrong.

Warren felt deeply ashamed. His eyes were opened and he hated what he saw – in Gotham and in himself. What happened to Harry? What happened to him? Their idealism had given way to just getting by. God only knew what Harry was involved in at the company. In the meantime, it was Terry, the angry "punk" he'd yelled at earlier who was at least trying to do something. Sure, Terry's actions were wrong in normal circumstances, but Gotham was hardly a normal city.

It felt like they were both in the same predicament, trapped with no way out. Warren was stuck in Wayne-Powers, while his friends disappeared, and Terry was desperately trying to fight the rampant anarchy on the streets. Both seemed doomed to failure.

Warren McGinnis never felt so utterly bereft of hope.

PART III: Twilight

Chapter 3: Images

BB – 2, McGinnis Home

"Terry? Terry, it's time for bed"

Mary McGinnis walked on to the porch to find her eldest son fast asleep, long after she had taken Matt to bed. This was not the first time Terry stayed behind on the porch after his brother left.

Ever since Mary and Warren began quarreling in earnest, Terry seemed to be trying to avoid them as much as possible. Whether it was "hanging out with friends" or staying out on the porch, Terry was doing everything he could to avoid being near his parents. Mary regretted the pain he was feeling and tried to talk to him about it, but to no avail. He was completely bottled up.

As Mary started to move Terry, she noticed something she hadn't seen before – a large stack of drawings and Terry's crayons and paints, carefully hidden underneath the bench he slept on. Mary lifted up the stack and sat down beside Terry, curious to see what her son was working on. It was a series of landscape paintings, most of them of sunsets seen from the porch.

Mary knew her son had artistic talent from when he was quite young. Mary, who in another lifetime wanted to be an artist, tried to develop this talent in her son, teaching him all she knew about the craft. Still, the skill with which Terry drew the landscapes – the attention to detail, the mixing of different hues and shades – showed a degree of mastery she never knew her son possessed.

Mary wondered why Terry had kept this to himself – she never saw him draw since she stopped teaching him. As she looked closely, she began to understand. The paintings were not just a hobby - they were a mirror into Terry's soul and feelings. The story they told was both fascinating and frightening.

Terry signed his paintings and wrote the date on the bottom, just as Mary taught him. Paintings from birthdays or happier times showed a calm painting, filled with bright colors and light strokes. They told a tale of hope, of an unending horizon of possibilities and serenity. It was impossible to look at these and not feel pride in the artist.

The latest paintings, however, were markedly different. The coming night was progressively darker and starker. The hues of twilight, once so inviting and calming, were drawn in sharper colors and thicker strokes, creating the impression not of peaceful rays, but a violent fire raging. It was as if the sky was at once an erupting volcano and a suffocating, endless emptiness, a pit swallowing all in its path.

Terry had told Mary all she wanted to know about what was going through Terry during the divorce. Her son was now caught between rage and despair, in a struggle doomed to yield nothing but suffering. Mary looked at her son with all the concern a mother could feel. Her son was going through hell, and he was refusing all help. How could she reach out to him?

Mary knew a separation between her and Warren was now inevitable – the love was gone and they did nothing but fight when together. But this war had other casualties, and Mary saw this now in the starkest of terms in the drawing she carefully put back in Terry's hiding place.

Carrying her son back to bed, Mary silently hoped that the nightmare present in Terry's soul would dissipate. The alternative was too horrible to contemplate.

BB – 1, Hamilton High, Last Day Before Summer Vacation

For the entire period between spring break and today, Dana had become more than just a girlfriend. She was Terry's guardian angel. Terry stayed close to her, and she helped to keep his temper and violent tendencies in check. Whenever Terry needed someone to talk to or a shoulder to lean on, she was there. Meetings with Ray Gardner were now once a week instead of daily.

Now Terry wanted to repay the favor, and so he prepared something special for Dana's birthday, fortuitously falling on the Great Day of Teenage Freedom. He couldn't afford to buy anything really nice, so he decided to try for sentimental value. He hoped she would appreciate it, a token of how much he cared for her and appreciated her help.

"So how was your last meeting with the counselor before summer vacation?"

Terry answered,

"The usual. Ray went on and on about my wasted potential, how I could do so much better if I only applied myself. He even brought up the idea of me going back to studying martial arts so I could learn to focus and apply myself to something other than beating up bullies"

"You studied martial arts? I never knew that", Dana interrupted.

"Yeah, I started when I was around eight. My parents wanted me to stop bouncing off the walls, so they signed me up. It was fun for a couple of years, but I didn't have the patience to really advance to the top. I figured, hey, now I have some cool moves, who needs more? Anyway, pretty soon I found myself doing other things to pass the time"

"Yeah, and we all know how that turned out", Dana replied without thinking.

Terry shot her a look that said it all. Dana looked down and continued,

"Sorry, that was out of line. So where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there", Terry said cryptically.

Terry rode the bike he borrowed from Jared through Gotham's freeways until he got to the back roads. He drove carefully, mindful that he had another passenger. Finally, he stopped the bike at the destination and shut off the motor.

"OK, now you can open your eyes"

Dana took of her helmet and got off the bike. She opened her eyes and started to survey her surroundings. They were near a cliff in a rustic area, surrounded by nature. Continuing to look around, Dana's eyes now fell on a large canvas. Her jaw dropped.

It was a large, almost full-size portrait of her. It was a beautiful rendering; the delicate face and the glowing background made her look almost angelic. Every detail was carefully done, every hue and shade making her look even more alluring. Dana took a few minutes to absorb it all.

Terry asked the obvious,

"Do you like it? I mean, I don't usually do portraits. It took me many tries before I came up with something I liked, and I…"

Dana planted a kiss before he could continue. It lasted quite a while. Then she answered,

"Yes. It's beautiful. It's a wonderful birthday present."

Terry smiled with relief. He and Dana held each other and watched the sun set over the trees. He thought about how much things were getting better. His father was cutting him some more slack at home. The bullies in school were backing down – there were only so many times they could take a beating, even with Dana holding him back. Even his grades were improving – well, at least in the hard sciences. The humanities still held no interest.

Most of all, there was Dana. She was his anchor, his angel, his soulmate. For the first time in over two years, Terry felt not just happy, but content. The chaos in his life was finally reforming into some kind of order. The seed of hope Dana planted in him back in Juvie now matured fully. The future looked brighter than ever.

Terry McGinnis finally knew inner peace.

Part III: Twilight
Chapter 4: All Fall Down

BB, "Rebirth", ep. 1 timeline, Gotham County Graveyard

It was a familiar scene - too familiar. But for the additional mourners and the identity of the deceased, Terry might have thought he'd been sent back in time to another funeral. To be sure, this time people tried to console him, to no avail. "Friends of Warren" he'd never met came to give their condolences, saying, "I feel your pain" and "I'm sorry for your loss". The words bounced off him as so many worthless platitudes. Even Mom and Matt didn't seem to matter; it was just him and the grave he'd helped dig.

At least with Brady he'd expected it to happen in the back of his mind. But this - this was all so sudden, so unexpected. One day his father was there, the next he was gone. It was just so unreal…

BB, "Rebirth", ep. 1 timeline, Warren McGinnis' Apartment, the previous afternoon

Warren McGinnis watched his son leave the apartment with a combination of sadness and relief. Sadness, for snapping at his son like that, after all they'd been through. He'd tried to give his son an easier time, but the incident with Harry in the Wayne-Powers Building set him on edge, and he took it out on Terry. The result was another fight - a relatively tame one, all things considered. Relief, because at least Terry was out of harm's way.

For Warren McGinnis knew that he was a dead man. The minute he deciphered the formula on Harry's disc and realized it was a formula for a lethal, practically untreatable nerve gas, it all clicked into a logical solution, one too horrifying to face.

Harry was likely dead by now, those spots on his arm and body a result of the nerve gas and not some "allergic reaction" to an innocent "chemical compound". No doubt the leak was engineered – why else go to all the trouble of tracking him down and sedating him? Why else would Harry go to the trouble of entrusting him with such sensitive material?

He also knew he was next. Warren had never been a particularly good liar, and he had no doubt Powers suspected him of having the disk. Damned nervous walking habits. He tried to call the police, but his phone line was disconnected. It was the same with his Internet connection. Any attempt to go out of the house at this hour was as likely to get him killed by a random attacker as by Powers' storm-troopers. There was only one other option he could think of.

As he entered Terry's room, he thought this was one time he was glad Terry didn't clean his room. No one would think to look here, in the incredibly messy abode of a teenage rebel. Sticking the disc in the back of a picture of himself and Terry during happier times, Warren closed his eyes.

They say your whole life flashes before your eyes when you are about to die. Warren certainly had sudden flashbacks – of Mary, Matthew, Harry and Terry. So many memories, yet so little time to reflect.

Mostly, though, he felt a deep sense of regret and failure. He'd tried so hard to teach Terry to advance in this world, to steer that energy and compassion of his toward a positive purpose. Now, he would never know what would happen to Terry, whether he would sink again into the abyss or rise to new heights.

Warren cried as he thought about the world he was leaving Terry – a bleak, hopeless hell, where good men like Warren and Harry were forced to sign deals with the Devil to survive. Now the Devil was coming to collect. Warren carefully laid the picture underneath a pile of clothing and then sat on the bed, his head hung in despair.

Goodbye, Terry, he thought.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang.

BB, "Rebirth", ep. 1 timeline, Gotham Freeway-Midtown County Bus

God, what a day, Terry thought to himself as he caught the express bus back to Gotham. It started out so well, too. Terry hit the weight machines all throughout summer vacation with a clear purpose – to beat Nelson Nash at his own game. To whip Nelson in the upcoming wrestling tryouts would likely shut him down faster than a dozen smack-downs after school. Of course, Terry didn't actually practice wrestling technique, but he figured all he needed was muscles and his street moves. He learned his lesson the hard way, first struggling to avoid defeat and then getting thrown out for a fight Nelson started.

Then there was the grounding and the fight with Dad – pretty standard, really. The Jokerz fight would have been standard, too, if he hadn't taken a wrong turn and ended up right smack in the home of the original Batman. Schway couldn't even begin to describe meeting the actual flesh and blood hero, even if he had clearly retired. Still, cool as it was, the guy was also clearly whacked – there was no other living being in the house except his "not-so-nice" dog. As Terry approached his stop, he thought about how he was going to be grounded for the rest of his natural life. It didn't matter; at least he had a father to come home to, instead of just a mean dog.

Getting off, he noticed police cars outside the apartment building. That was odd; police usually didn't even show up in this area unless there was a homi…Oh, no. Terry suddenly got a horrible feeling. Running to the building and up the stairs, all he could think was, Please, God, no, not Dad. Please, no.

After hearing what happened from Mom, Terry ran into the room, only to see Warren McGinnis' lifeless body. Falling to his knees, Terry looked at his father, badly bludgeoned and beaten, his body soaked in blood. Terry held him as tightly as he could, begging his father to wake up, ignoring the police yelling at him for contaminating a crime scene.

He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The shock was too overwhelming; his grief too powerful to allow for him to even absorb the air necessary to make sounds. All he could do was freeze in place, clinging desperately to his father.

BB, "Rebirth", ep. 1 timeline, Gotham County Graveyard

Now Terry found himself here, standing over his father's grave. He barely remembered being pulled off of Warren's body by four cops or getting dressed at Mom's house for the funeral. It was all a blur, as fantastical as the whole series of events from his departure from the bus to the funeral.

None of it made any sense, and his thoughts were also very erratic. The swirl of self-loathing, criticism and doubt ran through Terry's mind like a bad music remix. Why would Dad open the door? He knew enough about the neighborhood to look before doing that? He should have been there. He'd fought off Jokerz before, even held his own alongside the great Batman. He hadn't even left to help someone, just to have some fun with Dana and other friends.

Nothing helped fill the emptiness that Terry now felt. At least at Brady's funeral he'd been able to partially compensate for his pain by ensuring that he'd never look the other way again. Now, all he felt was total worthlessness. He'd selfishly told his Dad off and abandoned him in his hour of need. For all his efforts to become someone worth being, he'd still failed miserably.

Terry now knew only one thing for sure.

He wished he was the one who was buried instead of his father.

END PART III: Twilight