Chapter Eight
Bruce sat there.
Terry's grunts and cries of pain echoed throughout the cave from the speakers. He rested his head in his hands, waiting.
He didn't know what he was waiting for. He was considering.
Never before did he have to deal with something like this. No one had ever stolen the Bat suit before. So when something like it did happen, he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to do anything.
Maybe age was effecting him more than he'd like.
Ace sat up, ears perked at the noise coming in through the speakers. He looked at Bruce, almost as if waiting to see what he would do next.
"Bruce," Terry's voice came through. "Let me go, I'll bring it back."
He tried to say something else, but he gasped in pain and loud laughter erupted in the background. Bruce closed his eyes briefly.
"Bruce, come on," Terry gasped. "Help me."
He sounded ready to crack. Bruce opened his eyes and looked up, thoughts running wildly through his head.
If he just let him stay like this, they'd kill him.
He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, thinking.
Jokerz blurred past Terry's vision, each taking a turn beating him up. Then they stopped mercifully for a moment.
He looked around through the cowl, trying to see what was going on.
"Come on guys, let's try a new joke on this rat," Tanner sneered. He came back into view carrying a mean looking chain saw.
Oh slag it. Here we go. Good-bye world.
Tanner pulled the cord, activating the saw. It whirred loudly, its sharp chains evolving around in a circle. The other Jokerz backed up, some looking worried, others grinning.
Tanner approached, his smile growing wider and wider. "Bye-bye, Rats!" he sneered. Terry could almost feel the heat emitting off the saw.
Miraculously, the suit released its holding grip on him, and Terry could move again. He was almost too shocked to believe it, but then he reacted, kicking the chain saw handle out of Tanner's hands. It went flying, crashing onto the stone floor. It made a terrific noise, grinding against the ground.
"Hey!" Tanner protested. Terry got to his feet and slugged him hard, knocking him out cold. Then he turned and went out the entrance, blasting his jet boosters and extending his wings to help him get out faster.
When he emerged into the cool air outside, he breathed in deeply, flying up until he was on top of the building. His body still ached painfully from the fight.
But that wasn't what he was worried about.
Time to face the big guy.
Bruce Wayne was waiting for him when Terry returned. He entered the batcave still wearing the suit. Bruce Wayne carried Terry's backpack in his hands and when he entered threw it at him. It opened and Terry's day clothes spilled out.
"Take the suit off," he ordered.
Terry obliged, taking off the cowl, but he didn't remove the suit right away. He scooped the backpack up off the ground.
"Somebody had to do it you know," he told the older man, "and if not you, than I can."
"Is that right?" Bruce demanded. "You were reckless. You have absolutely no idea what you're doing!"
"I know enough to know that you can't do it and probably don't want anyone else to either!" Terry tossed the cowl aside, running fingers through his sweaty hair. "The world needs a new Batman, someone to uphold the law when the police can't! I'm willing to do it. I'm capable."
"Don't think I don't know the real reason you went out there tonight McGinnis. I know what happened."
"Sure, I know you do," Terry said sarcastically, taking off the suit, reaching for his clothes. "I saw the flowers."
"I won't allow it."
Terry changed back into his own clothes. "You spend all your time trying to keep this secret. I'm not going to tell anyone, I want to fulfill it."
"No you won't."
"Why not?" Terry stopped for a moment to look at him. "I'm qualified, I'm capable! I stopped Mad Stan tonight from blowing up the entire Gotham museum, what does that tell you? I can do this! We need another Bat and you know it."
"No!" Bruce's voice echoed through the cave. "You will NOT wear the costume, you are NOT capable, and you don't even know HALF the responsibilities that come with the mask. You're nowhere qualified. I want you away from here and I never want to see you again!"
There was a long silence as the two men stared at each other, an unspoken anger filling the cave. The only noise for a couple of moments were Ace's toenails shuffling against the rocky surface.
"Fine."
Terry bent down and picked up the suit, folding it neatly. "Fine. If that's what you say then fine." He looked back up at Bruce. "But I don't regret one second of tonight. I'm glad I did it and I don't care what you think or expect."
Terry picked up the backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He looked around for a place to set the costume, and placed on a nearby table that also held the Riddler's costume display. He shuffled his hands for a moment, then passed by Bruce. His stupid dog started growling again, but didn't move from his master's side.
"Admit it," he said, "Gotham needs a new Batman. And you know it." With that he left for the stairs, leaving the suit lying folded on the floor.
"Terry," Bruce stopped him. Terry turned and waited.
"If I find out you hurt anyone critically tonight, tonight won't be the last you see of me."
Terry hesitated. Bruce stood there, watching him. He wanted to say something, anything, but decided against it and disappeared through the entrance.
Bruce Wayne leaned heavily against his cane, looking down at Ace. The dog stared up at him expectantly.
"No," he said softly to himself. "No."
The weekend passed uneventfully. Terry had expected a phone call of some sort from the old man, but he received none.
He went back to school on Monday, and everyone was glad to see him again. Teachers were kind enough to dismiss late homework and he was at least grateful for that.
"Did you see the newspapers?" Max spoke to him at the lockers. She held her own copy up. On the cover was a blurred photo of the interior of the Gotham Museum. In the distance he could just detect the Batman, shooting off toward the opening in the ceiling.
"Isn't this interesting?" she gushed, grinning. "A new Batman in town!"
"Yeah, I saw that," Dana said, wrapping her arms around Terry. "I heard the police are on the look out for him."
Terry swallowed. "Look out? Why?"
Max shrugged. "I guess they don't like him. No one knows who he is and they can't trust someone who takes the law in their own hands."
"They seemed to accept him back in the old days."
"Terry, the 'old days' didn't have the same culture or technology we have today," Max pointed out. "They needed him. Now however-"
"But he apparently did good," Dana interrupted, "he saved people."
Terry smiled inwardly.
"I don't know," a voice spoke up, and they all turned to see Chelsea and Blade approaching them. Blade was speaking. "Some dark figure wearing a costume and fighting bad guys? Sounds pretty sexy to me."
"You're crazy," Chelsea said, "sounds like some freak to me."
Terry turned away then, closing his locker. "I'd better get to class," he told them, "see you guys after school or something."
"Okay." Dana grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm glad you're back."
He forced a smile. "Yeah. Sure."
Derek Powers couldn't believe it.
"What do you mean he had files?" he blew up, turning around to face Mr. Fixx who was sitting on the other side of his desk. "How did he get the files?"
"I don't know, Mr. Powers," Fixx said, "but I saw Stewart Hughes give him some sort of disk. I'm guessing they have the photos or data or something."
Powers ran a hand through his white hair, trying to think. If Powers had the disk that meant they had to be somewhere. And if someone got a hold of them-
"Go by his house," he said, "do something- do anything! Just as long as you find that disk!"
"Gladly sir," Fixx answered, getting to his feet and adjusting his tie. "I'll take care of it."
"Good."
Bruce Wayne sat at the computer console thinking.
He had just gone through what Terry had done, read the paper, and research to find out exactly what had happened the night before.
Terry had, in fact, taken on a madman all on his own, disarmed him, challenged on a gang of Jokerz, and gotten away. Even after being put through the costume freezing process Bruce had put him through.
He didn't want to admit it, but the boy was good.
But he was reckless. And that was dangerous.
Bruce did a quick run up on the city's recent history. Terry had been right. Gotham had become a place where the people had to fight for survival. Gangs rampaged the streets, Madmen like Mad Stan threatening the blow up buildings. Maybe.just maybe Gotham needed someone, some vigilant to help keep the peace. Maintain order.
But no way could Terry handle it.
"Just what were you thinking when you did it?"
The voice had come from behind him. He turned in his chair to see Commissioner Barbara Gordon standing in the doorway watching him from the top of the stairs.
"Barbara," he said, getting to his feet.
"You must have thought I wouldn't find out," she said, walking down the steps. "I was there that night Bruce. Who is he?"
"No one," he said quickly, "you won't be seeing him again."
She stared at him for a long moment, then her eyes wondered over to the costume cases beside the stairs. The recent Bat model had been reinserted inside its display.
"Are you sure about that?" she said.
"Yes."
She looked at him. "The world doesn't need a Bat, even if you think it does. We have it under control. Another bat wouldn't be help. It would be a nuisance."
Bruce stared at her. "Are you sure Gotham doesn't need another bat?"
She frowned at him. "Of course I'm sure. The bat is illegal. If I ever find out who he is I'll have to arrest him. And don't think I won't find out, I will. You know I can."
He watched her open the case to the Batgirl costume. Her eyes ran over it briefly and he thought he detected sadness in her expression.
"I see you sewed up the bullet holes," she commented simply. He didn't answer. She sighed, turning back to him. She put her hands in her coat pocket.
"You know why I'm here Bruce and I want you to respect what I think. We don't need the bat. Never did, never will."
Bruce didn't move. "Are you sure he was never needed?"
She paused, thinking. Then she shook her head and started back up the stairs. He stayed there, watching until she was gone.
"Terry look!"
Matt tore through the hallway and into his older brother's bedroom. Terry looked up from his desk, quickly closing the laptop he had been working on. .
"What is it," he asked.
"Come on!" Matt grabbed his arm. Terry quickly grabbed the laptop with him and let his younger brother drag him back down the hall to the front room. The TV had been switched on. "Look!"
Terry looked. It was the news station, showing the same exact picture that had been printed on the front page of the newspaper. He swallowed, seeing himself.
"It's Batman!" Matt said excitedly, "like the stories! He must be like.a hundred years old!"
Terry chuckled, thinking back to Bruce Wayne. "Almost," he said, sitting down on the couch. He opened the laptop. He had been researching his father's files again.
"They say they're not sure it's Batman," Matt explained, "that it could be some wierdo in a costume trying to be like him. Isn't that weird?"
"Sure," Terry commented.
"Do you think we'll see him again."
"Don't know."
They sat there in silence, watching the program for a couple of minutes, when the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Terry offered quickly, jumping up and setting the laptop aside. Matt was too engrossed with the news to object and Terry crossed the room to the front door.
He opened the door, expecting it to be his mom perhaps, forgetting something or coming home early from the dinner and had forgotten her keys. But it wasn't.
Mr. Fixx stood on the front stoop.
Bruce sat there.
Terry's grunts and cries of pain echoed throughout the cave from the speakers. He rested his head in his hands, waiting.
He didn't know what he was waiting for. He was considering.
Never before did he have to deal with something like this. No one had ever stolen the Bat suit before. So when something like it did happen, he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to do anything.
Maybe age was effecting him more than he'd like.
Ace sat up, ears perked at the noise coming in through the speakers. He looked at Bruce, almost as if waiting to see what he would do next.
"Bruce," Terry's voice came through. "Let me go, I'll bring it back."
He tried to say something else, but he gasped in pain and loud laughter erupted in the background. Bruce closed his eyes briefly.
"Bruce, come on," Terry gasped. "Help me."
He sounded ready to crack. Bruce opened his eyes and looked up, thoughts running wildly through his head.
If he just let him stay like this, they'd kill him.
He sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, thinking.
Jokerz blurred past Terry's vision, each taking a turn beating him up. Then they stopped mercifully for a moment.
He looked around through the cowl, trying to see what was going on.
"Come on guys, let's try a new joke on this rat," Tanner sneered. He came back into view carrying a mean looking chain saw.
Oh slag it. Here we go. Good-bye world.
Tanner pulled the cord, activating the saw. It whirred loudly, its sharp chains evolving around in a circle. The other Jokerz backed up, some looking worried, others grinning.
Tanner approached, his smile growing wider and wider. "Bye-bye, Rats!" he sneered. Terry could almost feel the heat emitting off the saw.
Miraculously, the suit released its holding grip on him, and Terry could move again. He was almost too shocked to believe it, but then he reacted, kicking the chain saw handle out of Tanner's hands. It went flying, crashing onto the stone floor. It made a terrific noise, grinding against the ground.
"Hey!" Tanner protested. Terry got to his feet and slugged him hard, knocking him out cold. Then he turned and went out the entrance, blasting his jet boosters and extending his wings to help him get out faster.
When he emerged into the cool air outside, he breathed in deeply, flying up until he was on top of the building. His body still ached painfully from the fight.
But that wasn't what he was worried about.
Time to face the big guy.
Bruce Wayne was waiting for him when Terry returned. He entered the batcave still wearing the suit. Bruce Wayne carried Terry's backpack in his hands and when he entered threw it at him. It opened and Terry's day clothes spilled out.
"Take the suit off," he ordered.
Terry obliged, taking off the cowl, but he didn't remove the suit right away. He scooped the backpack up off the ground.
"Somebody had to do it you know," he told the older man, "and if not you, than I can."
"Is that right?" Bruce demanded. "You were reckless. You have absolutely no idea what you're doing!"
"I know enough to know that you can't do it and probably don't want anyone else to either!" Terry tossed the cowl aside, running fingers through his sweaty hair. "The world needs a new Batman, someone to uphold the law when the police can't! I'm willing to do it. I'm capable."
"Don't think I don't know the real reason you went out there tonight McGinnis. I know what happened."
"Sure, I know you do," Terry said sarcastically, taking off the suit, reaching for his clothes. "I saw the flowers."
"I won't allow it."
Terry changed back into his own clothes. "You spend all your time trying to keep this secret. I'm not going to tell anyone, I want to fulfill it."
"No you won't."
"Why not?" Terry stopped for a moment to look at him. "I'm qualified, I'm capable! I stopped Mad Stan tonight from blowing up the entire Gotham museum, what does that tell you? I can do this! We need another Bat and you know it."
"No!" Bruce's voice echoed through the cave. "You will NOT wear the costume, you are NOT capable, and you don't even know HALF the responsibilities that come with the mask. You're nowhere qualified. I want you away from here and I never want to see you again!"
There was a long silence as the two men stared at each other, an unspoken anger filling the cave. The only noise for a couple of moments were Ace's toenails shuffling against the rocky surface.
"Fine."
Terry bent down and picked up the suit, folding it neatly. "Fine. If that's what you say then fine." He looked back up at Bruce. "But I don't regret one second of tonight. I'm glad I did it and I don't care what you think or expect."
Terry picked up the backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He looked around for a place to set the costume, and placed on a nearby table that also held the Riddler's costume display. He shuffled his hands for a moment, then passed by Bruce. His stupid dog started growling again, but didn't move from his master's side.
"Admit it," he said, "Gotham needs a new Batman. And you know it." With that he left for the stairs, leaving the suit lying folded on the floor.
"Terry," Bruce stopped him. Terry turned and waited.
"If I find out you hurt anyone critically tonight, tonight won't be the last you see of me."
Terry hesitated. Bruce stood there, watching him. He wanted to say something, anything, but decided against it and disappeared through the entrance.
Bruce Wayne leaned heavily against his cane, looking down at Ace. The dog stared up at him expectantly.
"No," he said softly to himself. "No."
The weekend passed uneventfully. Terry had expected a phone call of some sort from the old man, but he received none.
He went back to school on Monday, and everyone was glad to see him again. Teachers were kind enough to dismiss late homework and he was at least grateful for that.
"Did you see the newspapers?" Max spoke to him at the lockers. She held her own copy up. On the cover was a blurred photo of the interior of the Gotham Museum. In the distance he could just detect the Batman, shooting off toward the opening in the ceiling.
"Isn't this interesting?" she gushed, grinning. "A new Batman in town!"
"Yeah, I saw that," Dana said, wrapping her arms around Terry. "I heard the police are on the look out for him."
Terry swallowed. "Look out? Why?"
Max shrugged. "I guess they don't like him. No one knows who he is and they can't trust someone who takes the law in their own hands."
"They seemed to accept him back in the old days."
"Terry, the 'old days' didn't have the same culture or technology we have today," Max pointed out. "They needed him. Now however-"
"But he apparently did good," Dana interrupted, "he saved people."
Terry smiled inwardly.
"I don't know," a voice spoke up, and they all turned to see Chelsea and Blade approaching them. Blade was speaking. "Some dark figure wearing a costume and fighting bad guys? Sounds pretty sexy to me."
"You're crazy," Chelsea said, "sounds like some freak to me."
Terry turned away then, closing his locker. "I'd better get to class," he told them, "see you guys after school or something."
"Okay." Dana grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm glad you're back."
He forced a smile. "Yeah. Sure."
Derek Powers couldn't believe it.
"What do you mean he had files?" he blew up, turning around to face Mr. Fixx who was sitting on the other side of his desk. "How did he get the files?"
"I don't know, Mr. Powers," Fixx said, "but I saw Stewart Hughes give him some sort of disk. I'm guessing they have the photos or data or something."
Powers ran a hand through his white hair, trying to think. If Powers had the disk that meant they had to be somewhere. And if someone got a hold of them-
"Go by his house," he said, "do something- do anything! Just as long as you find that disk!"
"Gladly sir," Fixx answered, getting to his feet and adjusting his tie. "I'll take care of it."
"Good."
Bruce Wayne sat at the computer console thinking.
He had just gone through what Terry had done, read the paper, and research to find out exactly what had happened the night before.
Terry had, in fact, taken on a madman all on his own, disarmed him, challenged on a gang of Jokerz, and gotten away. Even after being put through the costume freezing process Bruce had put him through.
He didn't want to admit it, but the boy was good.
But he was reckless. And that was dangerous.
Bruce did a quick run up on the city's recent history. Terry had been right. Gotham had become a place where the people had to fight for survival. Gangs rampaged the streets, Madmen like Mad Stan threatening the blow up buildings. Maybe.just maybe Gotham needed someone, some vigilant to help keep the peace. Maintain order.
But no way could Terry handle it.
"Just what were you thinking when you did it?"
The voice had come from behind him. He turned in his chair to see Commissioner Barbara Gordon standing in the doorway watching him from the top of the stairs.
"Barbara," he said, getting to his feet.
"You must have thought I wouldn't find out," she said, walking down the steps. "I was there that night Bruce. Who is he?"
"No one," he said quickly, "you won't be seeing him again."
She stared at him for a long moment, then her eyes wondered over to the costume cases beside the stairs. The recent Bat model had been reinserted inside its display.
"Are you sure about that?" she said.
"Yes."
She looked at him. "The world doesn't need a Bat, even if you think it does. We have it under control. Another bat wouldn't be help. It would be a nuisance."
Bruce stared at her. "Are you sure Gotham doesn't need another bat?"
She frowned at him. "Of course I'm sure. The bat is illegal. If I ever find out who he is I'll have to arrest him. And don't think I won't find out, I will. You know I can."
He watched her open the case to the Batgirl costume. Her eyes ran over it briefly and he thought he detected sadness in her expression.
"I see you sewed up the bullet holes," she commented simply. He didn't answer. She sighed, turning back to him. She put her hands in her coat pocket.
"You know why I'm here Bruce and I want you to respect what I think. We don't need the bat. Never did, never will."
Bruce didn't move. "Are you sure he was never needed?"
She paused, thinking. Then she shook her head and started back up the stairs. He stayed there, watching until she was gone.
"Terry look!"
Matt tore through the hallway and into his older brother's bedroom. Terry looked up from his desk, quickly closing the laptop he had been working on. .
"What is it," he asked.
"Come on!" Matt grabbed his arm. Terry quickly grabbed the laptop with him and let his younger brother drag him back down the hall to the front room. The TV had been switched on. "Look!"
Terry looked. It was the news station, showing the same exact picture that had been printed on the front page of the newspaper. He swallowed, seeing himself.
"It's Batman!" Matt said excitedly, "like the stories! He must be like.a hundred years old!"
Terry chuckled, thinking back to Bruce Wayne. "Almost," he said, sitting down on the couch. He opened the laptop. He had been researching his father's files again.
"They say they're not sure it's Batman," Matt explained, "that it could be some wierdo in a costume trying to be like him. Isn't that weird?"
"Sure," Terry commented.
"Do you think we'll see him again."
"Don't know."
They sat there in silence, watching the program for a couple of minutes, when the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Terry offered quickly, jumping up and setting the laptop aside. Matt was too engrossed with the news to object and Terry crossed the room to the front door.
He opened the door, expecting it to be his mom perhaps, forgetting something or coming home early from the dinner and had forgotten her keys. But it wasn't.
Mr. Fixx stood on the front stoop.