Terry came home late that night, well - late for a normal person. For him it was about average. Matt had slowly built up his own alarm system around the house, including slipping motion detectors on all the windows, his brother's included. The system buzzed to life around 3:30 in the morning, and Matt grabbed the controller off his bedside table before it could fall to the ground or make any noise. He padded down the hall, confirming it was actually Terry, and grabbing a glass of water before heading back to bed.

The next morning Matt was up and loudly exclaiming about the ice-skating trip, long before Terry or his mom wanted to be out of bed. Terry hadn't been putting in much face time, and while he had managed to pull his grades back up, Matt knew the look their mom got when she was starting to get a little too concerned for her eldest son.

Somehow Matt managed to cajole and whine until he got his small family as enthusiastic as he was, or at least pretending to be to humor him. For once, no disaster sprang up on the way there, though Terry was obviously not dragging his backpack around for kicks.

The ice rink was always crowded this time of year, even more so on a Saturday. Matt didn't have to pretend to be excited. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet as they shuffled to the front of the line and were handed ice-skates in the appropriate sizes. Terry was distracted his eyes dancing over the crowd. Matt tried to watch Terry as he put on his skates. His brother was in Batman mode; something had gotten his hackles up but Matt couldn't tell what it was.

"Terry?" Their mom asked.

Terry shook his head and smiled, "It's nothing. They gave me the wrong size." He held up his skates and gestured to the counter, "I'm gonna go swap them."

Matt watched him go, but it didn't look like Terry was going to sneak away. He went back to his skates.

Matt slipped onto the ice with ease, staying by the wall only long enough to get his feet under him before he pushed out to the center of the rink. It took him four circuits before he started picking up on the bad vibe that Terry had noticed.

Something was off. It was crowded but not crowded enough. There should have been more kids his own age out on the ice but the only ones he noticed were sitting in the waiting area, where the heaters were blasting warm air over the old wooden benches. The movement on the ice was off as well. Most of the skaters were like himself, moving confidently in the middle of the rink. There should have been dozens of people clinging to the walls, pushing themselves along, and holding their arms out as they nearly lost their balance.

Matt watched one young woman wobble and fall sliding slightly on the ice. She didn't seem hurt. It had been fairly gentle as these things went. But she hesitated a moment, rocking back and forth before clumsily pushing herself to her feet. She clutched the wall for another moment then pushed herself toward the gate, and stepped off the ice.

Matt headed over to the spot she had fallen. Nothing seemed off. It was just another patch of ice. He looked around. Another couple that had been sticking to the walls stepped off the ice. One of them was pinching at her forehead with her thumb and forefinger as if fighting off a headache. He was certain of it now. Something was definitely off. He looked around, trying to pick out as many details as he could, and piece them together; using the time to catch his breath from his first few laps.

Only his heart rate wasn't going down. Something caught in his chest and he coughed. His knees wobbled and Matt clawed at the wall for support. He was bent over sucking in air that somehow wasn't filling his lungs. He slipped sideways collapsing to one side, his face pressed against one of the vents that blasted cold air over the outdoor rink, keeping the ice at a level temperature.

"Terry." It was weak barely reaching the level of normal conversation but it was enough.


Terry glanced over at the hint of his name. Something had been picking at him and his senses were running on overdrive trying to figure out the cause. His eyes scanned the rink, causing him to stop mid-sentence when he couldn't find Matt's familiar knitted cap. Then through the crowd, he saw the collapsed figure.

"Matt!"

Terry was across the waiting area in seconds, vaulting over the half-wall rather than bothering with the gate. He hadn't bothered to put on the skates, but his sneakers found enough traction to get him across to his little brother without putting him on his ass. Matt was alive but his breath kept catching in his chest and his eyes had rolled back and glazed over like he was having some kind of fit. His pulse was strong but erratic.

People were starting to stop and stare. Terry ignored them, picking up his brother and hauling him off the ice. "Call 911! I need a doctor."

Their mom pressed through the crowd. "Terry, what on earth. Matt! What happened? Is he alright?"

"No, Mom I need you to call 911." Terry laid Matt down on a hastily vacated bench and checked his pulse again. Still there but his lungs still weren't expanding. Terry's world shrank down to those two facts.

He started rescue breathing, counting off the beats between breaths.

An eon later the paramedics arrived, switching off with him and bundling Matt into an ambulance. Terry went with him. Their mom offered to take his place, but he said no, and after he had spent the last minutes or hours or however long it had been, breathing for his little brother, the paramedics weren't going to argue.

He didn't hesitate to use Wayne's name when they got to the Thomas Wayne Memorial Hospital. At some point he sent out a text to the old man, explaining things, and after that, there weren't any questions, just open doors and people eager to please. Terry didn't really come out of the stupor until his mom arrived, sitting down on the other chair next to Matt's bed in the high-end private room they had been offered.

"Terry?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

She didn't bother asking if everything was alright. Her youngest was only breathing because Matt was hooked up to the respirator.

"What did they say?"

"They can't explain it." He paused taking a breath and straightening up in his seat. "They think it's some kind of toxin. Won't know what until the blood work gets back. No Idea how it could have got into his system. It's coating his lungs or something, making it hard for him to breath. The respirator is helping and they've got him on oxygen now."

She reached out taking his hand. She didn't say anything. Their mother was just as scared as he was and anything she did try to say would come out sounding false.