Okay, this is a teaser, because I don't know if I should continue it or not. So...erm...review if you like it and I'll see if I can climb off of my writer's block enough to continue it. Otherwise, it's a one shot. Oh, and I don't own Old Bruce or anything else from Batman Beyond. For info on Katherine/Mariann....ask Kyoko Kasshu-Minamino. It's her brain baby. Inspired by a quote from the book "Batman: Rise of Sin Tzu".
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"Bruce?"
"Yes?"
"This sucks." I'm standing in the middle of the obstacle course, blindfolded, handcuffed, and scared out of my wits. I hate that old man. I really, really do.
"Learn to trust your other senses, Katherine."
"Right now my common sense is telling me to kick your ass." A burst of heat to my left makes me drop and roll. "Y'know, in my little world, burning to death is a bad thing!"
"If you'd keep quiet, you could hear it coming!" Terry yells at me.
"If I wasn't wearing this blindfold, I could see it coming!" I'm begining to realize why he handcuffed me first. Something smacks into me, roughly. I fall to the ground and instinctively curl up, protecting my stomach. Heat explodes around me and I scream. "BRUCE! Get me out of here!" Nothing happens. I struggle to my feet, fighting the fear that curls up in my stomach like a fist made of ice. Okay, KP. Focus. Find the exit. Closing my eyes, even though they're beneath the blindfold anyway, I take a step forward and burn my foot. So much for that. Growling with pain and frustration, I turn to the right and take a step forward. Steel floor. Good. A whirring noise reaches my ears and I'm hit by something, slammed to the floor, into the flames. My skin prickles with pain and heat. Terry's telling Bruce to turn it off. I can't get up. I landed wrong. My feet aren't cooperating with my brain. Out of sheer panic, my body shifts into Mariann's form and I shoot straight upwards, breaking off the cuffs and tearing the blindfold away. I zoom up the stairs and to my room on the second floor, scaring the hell out of Ace in the process.
I hate that goddamned old man.
I'm sitting on my bed, nursing a burnt wrist when someone knocks gently. "If it's Bruce, fuck off." The door opens. It's Terry. "You okay?" I stare fixedly at the welt on my skin.
"I'll live." He moves to sit next to me.
"I guess you're not too happy with Bruce at the moment, huh?"
"Wow, you really are the world's greatest detective."
"Wrong era," he corrects me. I fumble with tying the bandage around my wrist. "Here." As gently as possible, he ties it. I glare at him.
"If you're up here to apologize for him, don't bother."
"I'm not," he assures me. "You need sulking time. I get that." He looks at me. "But you know why he pushes."
"Yeah, yeah." I wave my hand, wincing at the movement. "But I told him to get me out of there. You told him to get me out of there. I get enough scars fighting the actual bad guys. I don't need them from his evil, crackheaded robots, too." He hugs me around the shoulders, kissing the side of my head.
"You'll get it eventually." I shove him off.
"Don't talk to me like the understanding parent, Terry."
"I'm not trying to. I'm just saying: He means well."
"And I mean it in the best possible way when I say he can bite me." Pushing him away, I curl into the pillow. The mattress squeaks as he stands, as does the door as he slips quietly out the door. I can almost hear him sigh in exasperation.
I dream of fire.
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"Bruce?"
"Yes?"
"This sucks." I'm standing in the middle of the obstacle course, blindfolded, handcuffed, and scared out of my wits. I hate that old man. I really, really do.
"Learn to trust your other senses, Katherine."
"Right now my common sense is telling me to kick your ass." A burst of heat to my left makes me drop and roll. "Y'know, in my little world, burning to death is a bad thing!"
"If you'd keep quiet, you could hear it coming!" Terry yells at me.
"If I wasn't wearing this blindfold, I could see it coming!" I'm begining to realize why he handcuffed me first. Something smacks into me, roughly. I fall to the ground and instinctively curl up, protecting my stomach. Heat explodes around me and I scream. "BRUCE! Get me out of here!" Nothing happens. I struggle to my feet, fighting the fear that curls up in my stomach like a fist made of ice. Okay, KP. Focus. Find the exit. Closing my eyes, even though they're beneath the blindfold anyway, I take a step forward and burn my foot. So much for that. Growling with pain and frustration, I turn to the right and take a step forward. Steel floor. Good. A whirring noise reaches my ears and I'm hit by something, slammed to the floor, into the flames. My skin prickles with pain and heat. Terry's telling Bruce to turn it off. I can't get up. I landed wrong. My feet aren't cooperating with my brain. Out of sheer panic, my body shifts into Mariann's form and I shoot straight upwards, breaking off the cuffs and tearing the blindfold away. I zoom up the stairs and to my room on the second floor, scaring the hell out of Ace in the process.
I hate that goddamned old man.
I'm sitting on my bed, nursing a burnt wrist when someone knocks gently. "If it's Bruce, fuck off." The door opens. It's Terry. "You okay?" I stare fixedly at the welt on my skin.
"I'll live." He moves to sit next to me.
"I guess you're not too happy with Bruce at the moment, huh?"
"Wow, you really are the world's greatest detective."
"Wrong era," he corrects me. I fumble with tying the bandage around my wrist. "Here." As gently as possible, he ties it. I glare at him.
"If you're up here to apologize for him, don't bother."
"I'm not," he assures me. "You need sulking time. I get that." He looks at me. "But you know why he pushes."
"Yeah, yeah." I wave my hand, wincing at the movement. "But I told him to get me out of there. You told him to get me out of there. I get enough scars fighting the actual bad guys. I don't need them from his evil, crackheaded robots, too." He hugs me around the shoulders, kissing the side of my head.
"You'll get it eventually." I shove him off.
"Don't talk to me like the understanding parent, Terry."
"I'm not trying to. I'm just saying: He means well."
"And I mean it in the best possible way when I say he can bite me." Pushing him away, I curl into the pillow. The mattress squeaks as he stands, as does the door as he slips quietly out the door. I can almost hear him sigh in exasperation.
I dream of fire.