ALL-righty then. The fourth chapter. w00t. Let's go. I don't own Batman Beyond.

C H A P T E R F O U R - Truth and Lies


Katherine walked quickly down Hamilton High's hallway. She looked like crap and she knew it, with her hair in a quick ponytail and wearing an old t-shirt over jeans. She was present in body only, her mind was deep inside, planning reconstruction. Brain surgery, if you will. Which probably explains why Marcellus Lodger, broken arm, cracked ribs, and all, was able to shove her against a locker one-handed, leaving her dangling and choking, books and papers scattered.

"Having a good day, freak?" he snarled. Katherine swung her legs uselessly; he was too far away to kick. He recognized me, she realized desperately.

"If you know who I am, then you know what I can do," she gasped, glaring. "Are you sure this is wise?"

"You won't," he said with a cocky smirk. "Not here."

"You seem awfully sure." She compressed his throat with an invisible hand. Why wasn't anyone on this hall? His eyes bulged and his mouth opened soundlessly. "I don't need the flashy stuff," she whispered as his knees buckled. "But apparently, you do."

"HEY!" Two boys came around the corner and grabbed the larger boy's broken arm. Katherine released his throat and dropped to the ground as they shoved him down the hall. He left, rubbing his throat and casting black looks over his shoulder. "Are you alright?" A boy with curly brown hair helped her up and she sighed in relief: It was John and David, members of Matt's band, that had come to her rescue.

"Yeah," she said hoarsely, massaging her throat.

"Where's Matt?" David asked, helping her gather her books. "He would have bounced that guy's head off the pavement if he'd been here."

"Yeah, and you two are usually surgically attached if you can help it," John added with a silly grin, handing her a notebook. She smiled gently. It was the truth.

"He's sick," she said quietly. The guitarist and the drummer shared a look.

"Will he be okay by this weekend?" David asked in worry.

"Should be, yeah. It's just...a bad head cold." She hated lying to them, but she didn't quite think they'd believe the truth. That's how it usually worked.

"'Kay." David hugged her around the shoulders and motioned John down the hallway. They left the Princess' avatar to seethe and fear at the same time.


"Here. Careful, it's hot." Katherine gratefully accepted the steaming tea-cup. Around noon, sore-throated and tired of sounding like a bullfrog with a hangover, she had skipped out and gone home to explain the situation (รก la WordPad) to Bruce. He had disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a cup of delicious-smelling something. She sipped it slowly.

"Where'd you learn to make tea like this, Bruce?" The old man smiled gently.

"Alfred. He kept it on the stove for when I encountered similar situations." Translation: Got his ass kicked, Katherine thought, raising the cup to her lips to hide a smile. With some shock, she realized how long it had been since she and Bruce - or any of her housemates, at that - had sat down and talked, simply talked. It was always criminals and pain and CSI-type stuff. "How's the rebuilding effort coming?" Katherine was shaken out of her reverie by Bruce's voice, warm and comforting as the cup in her hand.

"Slowly," she admitted with a sigh. "The strongest walls were the inner cell; they're completely destroyed." Bruce rested his cane against the side of the armchair and interlocked his fingers.

"I've known a psychic or two in my time, and I've heard them speak of walls, but they were shields, not a physical wall." She paused at the implication left hanging in the air between them. The infallible Bruce Wayne - okay, maybe not infallible, but damn near - wants ME to explain something to HIM? My throat feels better now.

"When I have to keep someone out of my mind," she started, still looking carefully at her cup, "I imagine a concrete wall, reinforced with steel and brick. But when Mother trapped our father in our minds, I had to take more than my sisters. I got half, they got a quarter each. So I had to build a prision, a world within my mind, to keep such a strong personality in. You know how bull-headed I am. Multiply that by about thirty years and getting your way for three-quarters of that time and you'll have some idea of my father's persona. Not to mention the anger...lots of anger there. Anyway, I 'made' four concrete walls, reinforced with steel and brick, attached to the roof with iron bars a foot thick. Four layers of this, sealed with my own power and resolve. There are no windows, there are no doors, the only way in or out is through me. And when that electric shock hit the ground, it hit me, and him, giving him just the boost he needed to break through." Bruce was silent for a moment as Katherine sipped more tea.

"That sounded almost rehearsed," he said finally with a small smile, not revealing his true thoughts.

"You get a lot of questions in my line," she replied, voice cracking. Bruce stood and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"It's the risk you take," he said softly, and she knew he wasn't talking about the questions.

"Love sucks," she whispered in response. Leaning carefully, Bruce laid a gentle kiss on her forehead and straightened, leaving the room without another word. Katherine blinked in slight shock, twisting in her chair to watch him leave.

Bruce Wayne was the only man she knew to be a father without ever having children.


"Hey," Alma said in greeting, jogging up to Terry. "You seen KP?"

"I think she went home," he said, spinning the dial on his locker. "Said she had a sore throat."

"Damn," she grumbled. Terry looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"What's up?"

"She's got my..." Alma trailed off as a sharp, insistent pain hit her square in the back of the head. "Ugh."

"She's got your ugh?" Terry asked with a grin. "I thought you weren't contagious. " She punched him in the shoulder and laid her forehead in the heel of her palm.

"Shut up and drive," she growled, letting him lead her out of the school.

Letitia was leaned against Terry's car with her head in her hands when they joined her.

"You too?" Alma asked grimly.

"Yeah," was her only reply.

"Maybe we're having sympathy pains."

"We're not twins."

"Neither are KP and Lance, and they have sympathy pains."

"Get in," Letitia said suddenly, sliding into the front seat. "I think I know what it might be, but I have to talk to KP to be sure."


"And you say it's only in the back of your heads?" Letitia nodded. Katherine leaned back against the headboard, legs crossed, eyes closed. "It's just his personality that's in Matt - not that that's a good thing. He needs his powers in order to take a separate form, and he's trying to call them out of you two." Terry spoke suddenly from where he was leaned against the wall in Katherine's bedroom.

"Why don't we let him?" Alma stared at him.

"Terry, not meaning, this time, to sound like a smartass, but...are you cracked?"

"Back off, Alma." Katherine uncrossed her legs and swung them over the edge of the bed. "He wasn't there last time. He didn't fight him."

"Why can't we let him take his own form so we can attack him without hurting Matthew?" Terry asked. Katherine shook her head slowly.

"He's just too strong, Ter. It took all three of us at max strength and the last of our mother's magic to beat him last time. There's just no way."

"Okay." Letitia spoke up. "We know what we can't do. So what can we do?"

"I'm gonna go bitch at him," Katherine said simply, standing and leaving the room.


Bitching at people is fun.

Kyoko Kasshu-Minamino: You own. Seriously, you do.

Bone White Butterfly: YES! I have a reviewer other than Kyoko! pumps fist in the air Ahem. Tons and tons of virtual chocolate for your review. It makes me happy. I thought about the Matt/Matthew thing somewhere between Chapter One and Chapter Two, and I'm far too lazy to change it. So, for future reference, Matt McGinnis appears nowhere in this story. And. Um. I know the wholeLetitia/Jessica thing is...weird as all-get-out, but there is an explination in the story! The only problem is it's at the END of the story! So...I guess it has to be taken on faith that there is something that resemblesmethodin my madness.Again, YAY YOU.

So, I'm supposed to tell you something about reviewing this fic. Um...lemme see. Oh, I got it. You can review this fic. You're a reviewer. Yippee skippee. I'mAndy and I steal lines from PS2 games. I mean borrow. Without permission. Or any intention of ever returning it. Heh. Bye.