Ghoul looked around in undisguised disgust. There was a reason he'd left the 'rich boy' scene in the first place. Glamorous, flashy, and totally empty. Maybe being a criminal and the lowest of the low of Gotham was a dangerous and rather bleak lifestyle, but he'd had family in it. Now, the Dee Dees were holed up with their grandmother, Bonkwas getting a true burial (the one good thing in this mess), Chucko was in jail for pedophilia (a fat man in his 30's, who knew?), larceny, attempted murder and grand theft auto. Woof was…who knew where. Ghoul was assuming that PETA had gotten a hold of him, as he was more hyena than human now. And as for Ghoul himself?

"Oh, Stewie! We're so glad to have you back!" Gushed Mrs. Amelia Winthrop, coddling her cringing son as she looked directly at the cameras. His father clapped him on the back, laughing at 'his little scamp' of a son. Ghoul clenched his fists and glared sullenly at the camera. It had been a few weeks since-surprisingly not Batman but cops and child welfare services had found them in their hidey-hole and had called, in Ghoul's case his parents, in the Dee Dee's case their grandmother, in Woof's case animal services, Bonk's case (who was buried in the back lot) the morgue, and in Chucko's case his estranged wife and two kids. Ew.

Since getting their 'darling little boy back' it was nothing but cameras and press and rehab-not that Ghoul needed it, he'd managed to stay clean through all the years he'd been a runaway-and his parents had eaten up the attention their family reunion had gotten them. It was rather sick and made him wish he had a parent more like Bruce Wayne. Rich like his parents, sure, but look how he'd raised his adopted sons! Those guys were allowed to do what they wanted, and seemed to have a good relationship with their adopted parent! Plus, the way he treated his assistant, the one kid they roughed up once under orders of Joker. What was his name…? Anyway, he had a great relationship with the old man, it did seem like a great father/son relationship.

A lot better than Ghoul and his parents. On good days he was ignored and allowed to do whatever the hell he wanted, as long as it didn't embarrass them, and on bad days it was constant screaming matches about how he had to take after Uncle Crane and look like a creepy reject from that cult classic "The Wizard of Oz". It bugged the hell out of Ghoul. Same as his name. He hated that blasted name. Call him anything, shit-face, dead-boy, freak, Ghoul (which had been a cruel nickname from his school days that had just stuck since he actually liked it) but woe to you if you actually called him Stewart. Maybe he wasn't the best fighter, but as most things nowadays, including much of anyone's social life, was online, he could make your life a living hell with a simple little hack, a well-placed rumor, and let's not forget the all-powerful tool of photoshop.

And so, despite his parent's needling and begging and annoying, he stayed holed up in his room, hacking for the fun of it, ruining past tormentors lives and…stalking the new batman. He couldn't help it; this kid (he knew that much from what hints and insane ramblings Joker had dropped when he forgot anyone was in the same room with him) was fast, strong, had a great wit and could throw enemies three times his size around like it was nothing. Though, of course, it was debatable how much of this was the kid's doing and how much was the most likely cyberkinetic suit. Ghoul rubbed his arm in thought, thinking of the recurring dreams where he had a cyberkinetic arm/buzzsaw. That would actually be cool, but the dreams of being tortured(mentally, it was always mentally, though getting held over the edge of a building by his foot was really terrifying) by not one but two Batmans and Bruce Wayne, and admitting he wet the bed until he was fourteen (being verbally and physically abused by parents and servants will do that) weren't.

Suddenly, a sharp pain hit his shoulder and he jumped, forced out of his thoughts. "I'm sorry, what?" He realized some news person was asking him a question. And his mother was giving him a strained smile. Oh boy. Ghoul gave an inward sigh. He was going to hear about this later. "I'm sorry, he's still a little out of it, after his harrowing experience at the hands of the Jokerz" everyone present laughed at that as Ghol gritted his teeth. He refrained from saying what was on his mind-that he'd been treated better by even Batman than he had by his own parents. At least the Batman hadn't locked him in small, dark rooms or refused to do anything when he'd woken up screaming from nightmares. Sure, Batman was terrifying, but not as bad as the Winthrops. Ghoul forced himself to focus and smiled at the reporter woman, who flinched from the attempt, so he dropped it. "Can you repeat the question, please?" He said politely, and she swallowed, composed herself and put on a bright, fake smile. He'd rather have Joker or J-man's or even Batman's sarcastic smile any day. The fake made his stomach churn.

"So, uh, Stewart-" He folded his arms and gave her another smile. He didn't care if it scared the hell out of her, this one was supposed to. "Ghoul, please. All my friends called me that, I've…gotten used to it" strained chuckles as the newswoman backtracked and processed this, before pasting the smile yet again on her face. "Alright, Ghoul, what will you do now that you're home again?" He paused and thought over his words carefully. The obvious response for him was 'runaway again and this time don't use the damn moneycard I got when I was thirteen, no matter how bad in need of a hospital someone is" but he said instead what everyone expected. "Learn to live here again, maybe make friends, I don't know, I guess have fun" another squeeze of his shoulder and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Spend quality time with my parents too, yea. That's what I'll do"

There were a few more questions after that. Was he dating anyone? No. Was he looking for anyone? No. Was he going to cut his hair? Hell no. Despite what mommy and daddy said, Ghoul liked his long hair, liked having pale skin (he'd been forced to get the little mutation he paid for reversed and so it was so long grey skin. They couldn't remove the scars and stitches, thank you titanium alloy thread) eventually the interview was over and Ghoul was led back up the long drive way to…he'd never call this empty place home.

Terry watched the interview with a mix of disgust and boredom. Was it just him, or did Ghoul look absolutely miserable. Granted, the guy never really looked happy, but this was just painful. They'd made him wash his face too. The heavy mascara, eyeliner and stage make-up had been removed and now? He just looked tired. The rings around his eyes looked natural, and… "I always knew those all black eyes were contact lenses" Ghoul had been way too devoted to his undead image. It was really rather funny. Well, it would have been funny if Terry didn't sort of know Ghoul. Weak and much better on the computer than in actual fighting though he was, he was devoted to his friends. And now, everyone had taken his friends and freedom away. Terry sighed. Curse him and his bleeding heart. he was the one giving Ghoul a beat down every other week, didn't that mean he was supposed to be detached about the whole thing? Now the blond kid was where he wouldn't die from a rotten deal or accidentally falling off a roof. Still though…

Mary McGinnis came into that room at that moment and stared at the screen, hands on hips as she assessed the situation. "That poor kid. His parents are using this to get publicity" Terry looked over at his mother. There were moments when he was convinced she had the sixth sense. "Mom, he's a punk. He can take care of himself" Mary looked at her son with a piercing eye. "I want you to befriend him, Terry" Terry gaped at her. "Mom-" She shook her head. "You're Mr. Wayne's assistant, I'm sure that can get you somewhere in that society. It would be good for him" Terry frowned and faced the screen again. He'd spied on that particular Jokerz group once or twice after the whole Joker incident. Just to make sure they weren't trying anything, or that one of them wasn't dead on the floor. It was mostly to make sure nobody was burying any more people in the back lot. Honestly… and really, it didn't seem he and Ghoul had much in common. 'Legal assassin' not being one of Terry's favorite things to listen to. And then there was the taste in style. Seriously, was Ghoul's closet filled with nothing but ratted things too nasty for even the dump? If there was ever a zombie apocalypse, Ghoul would fit right in.

Mary moved in front of her son, blocking the television screen. She had her arms folded. Oh, boy. She meant business. Terry sighed and muted the screen, looking tiredly up at his mother. "What?" she frowned down at him. "Terry, you were a bad kid. You got home at all hours of the night, were part of a gang-" Terry shifted his eyes away from his mom, feeling guilty suddenly. "Mom come on, I was never part of the Jokerz" Mary rolled her eyes and sighed. "All I'm saying is give him a chance, Ter" She leaned down and stroked his hair, smiling. "Maybe all he needs to be a good kid is a good influence. Look at Mr. Wayne to you. Don't you want to at least help the kid out?" Terry squirmed for a few minutes before sighing. Curse him and his bleeding heart. "…Fine mom, fine. I'll see what I can do" Mary Mcginnis just smiled.