Terry starts the next day feeling better than he has in a while. Everything seems a lot brighter and more vital than it did before. But that, he realizes, is because his view of the world is no longer being obscured by the gloom inside his head. He can let his thoughts wander without worrying that they will lose themselves in some dark and dangerous part of his emotional landscape. His life's not 'back to normal,' and it won't be for a while yet, but it's not so dismal anymore.
After he's showered and dressed, he heads to the kitchen for breakfast. Matt is on the couch in the living room, still in his pajamas, watching cartoons on the TV. "Morning, Matt," Terry says as he walks behind the couch.
Matt arches his spine and leans his head way back, so he's sort of draped belly-up over the top of the couch with an upside-down view of his brother. "G'morning," he replies. Then he flops back down into a sitting position.
As Terry takes a quick glance at the TV screen, it occurs to him that he ought to check and see if there are any reports on Kitsune or the other vigilantes. That is now his problème du jour. Serious stuff, but more like what he deals with on a regular basis – a serious Batman problem, not a serious Terry McGinnis problem. Batman's problems, despite the dangers inherent in them, are somehow simpler and more straightforward than those of his alter ego. Unless they involve those kinds of dangers which spill over from one to the other. Those are the worst, but they are, fortunately, rare.
"Hey Matt, can you turn on the news for a sec?" Terry asks in his politest and most amiable voice.
Matt twists around to look at him, then shakes his head vigorously, a big smile on his face. Terry knows what it means – his little brother only uses that smile when he's doing something irritating and knows it. It means that he wants to make Terry lose his cool because that's always a source of quality entertainment. Up to a point, at least.
But Terry isn't going to play that game today. "All right." He waves dismissively. "Maybe later." He is immensely gratified to see the expression of utter bewilderment on his little brother's face, but he doesn't show it. Instead he just continues on his way to the kitchen.
His mom's at the table. She's eating her usual breakfast of yogurt, fruit and wheat toast. When he comes in, she looks up at him. "Good morning, Terry."
There's a note in her voice that sets off alarms in his head. It's as familiar as Matt's mischievous smile, part of the McGinnis family lexicon of unspoken messages. His mother wants to have a Talk with him. "Are you mad about me getting in late last night?" he asks, his mind trying to chase down some plausible-sounding explanation. "Look, I'm sorry, I know it was a lot later than usual, but I have a good reason for…"
She's shaking her head. He shuts up. "It's not about that, Ter. Not exactly. Here." She gestures at the chair next to her. "Sit down."
The feeling of euphoria that Terry started the morning with evaporates completely. He's recovered from one wound only to be dealt another, and just as bad as the first. For a moment he considers telling his mother that he's supposed to come in a little early today, that he has to go now, but he quickly quashes the notion. There's no way to avoid what's coming.
Keeping his eyes on those of his mother, he sits down in the indicated chair, his blood pounding in his ears. "Mom, what's the problem?" he asks.
His mother squares her shoulders as if preparing for some difficult ordeal. "Terry, I've been trying to discuss this with you for a while now. I've tried to bring it up without being too awkward, but I see now that it won't work." She pauses for a moment, hesitating before she takes the next step. "It's about your job with Mr. Wayne. I'm glad that he offered you a job, and also that you're working so hard. But" – and then she drops the bombshell – "I think you should look for something else."
"Mom…" She cuts him off with a wave of her hand before he can take the protest further. Outside in the living room, there is a decidedly cartoonish boom from the television set, and the high-pitched sound of Matt's amused laughter.
"I've spent a year worrying because you don't come home until past midnight. Your job left you barely enough time and energy to get through school. And we hardly see you at home anymore. I haven't said anything about it, because you wouldn't have liked me to. But really, I don't know how much longer you can keep this up."
Although his mother is speaking in a rational, if very concerned, tone of voice, Terry is starting to feel a sense of panic. "I can handle it, Mom! If I couldn't, I'd have quit by now!" That much was true.
The way she looks at him almost makes him cringe, not because of fear, but because of guilt and the unfamiliar intensity in his mother's eyes. "You were able to manage it in high school. In college, you'll have to be able to devote more time to schoolwork if you want to get anything out of it. And don't say we need the money," she adds quickly, nipping that excuse in the bud. "I got a raise last week. So you should find someone else who will let you work on a more flexible schedule."
"I'll try asking Wayne to give me a little more time off," Terry assures her. Of course he can't really do that, but it's a stopgap measure, designed to buy more time. Maybe if he just sticks to it long enough his mother will give up on the idea.
Problem is, she sees through the ruse instantly. "I don't think he'll do that," she says gravely. There's a lot in the spaces between her words: she's gotten to know Bruce Wayne, to some extent at least, through her son. "You should explain to him that you need to find a job that will leave you more time to study. I'm sure he'll write you a reference – maybe he'll even help you find something."
That sounds unbelievably ridiculous to Terry, but the reason his mother is suggesting it is because she has absolutely no idea what his job really is. He can't just say that he'll work for Mr. Wayne instead of going to college, either, because she's absolutely set on his obtaining a degree, even if it's just from a two-year school. She sees his job as temporary, and he doesn't. And he can't resolve that contradiction in their views of the situation unless he tells her the truth. But he can't.
Maybe, though - just maybe - he should.
He's managed to keep this from her for a year. In the back of his head, he's always known that it would only be a matter of time until she found out. But he's just kept putting it off and trying not to think about it. It's always been something that could wait until later. Except now it can't wait anymore. He has to tell her the truth.
So, naturally, he cops out.
"I have to go, Mom. We can talk about this later, okay? He stands up. Leaving now means skipping breakfast, but he's used to that, and an empty stomach is better than the alternative.
Terry expects his mother to protest. She doesn't. Instead she just gives him this look that's hurt and mad at the same time, one that he has seen before only a few times. It scares him. "All right," she agrees, her voice flat. "We'll talk about it later."
Gratefully, Terry says a quick goodbye to her, and then to Matt out on the couch as he runs out the front door. He sprints for the metro station like he's got a devil at his heels, not because he's afraid of missing the train, but because he wants to put as much distance between himself and the talk with his mother as he possibly can.
About halfway to the metro station, his cell phone starts ringing. He slows to a brisk walk as he pulls it out of his pocket, flips it open, presses the TALK button and holds it up to his ear. "Hello?"
"Terry." It's Wayne. He never starts a conversation with 'hello' – at least, not with Terry. But he's gotten used to that by now. "Are you on the train yet?"
He's upset about something. Very upset. But the way he's trying to cover it up says that it's not Terry he's angry with. "No, but I'm on my way there."
"Take it in the other direction, and meet me at my office." As in, his office at Wayne Enterprises. But it's Sunday, and he doesn't usually go during the weekend. Unless there's an emergency.
"Why? What's going on?"
"I'll explain when you get here," Wayne says. Then, after a pause, "Actually, I won't have to." And then, in an angry growl, "It's probably all over the news by now." Terry's initial impression was wrong. He's not upset. He's pissed.
"I'll be right there," Terry assures him. Wayne hangs up. Terry folds up his cell phone and puts it in his pocket again as he reaches the stairs leading down to the metro station.
He decides that it would not be a good idea to tell the old man about his argument with his mother – not right now, anyway. It's obvious that he's got more than enough to deal with as it is.