The mansion was quiet when Terry stumbled into it. No Ace to greet him. It followed that the dog was down in the cave with his master. And since Tim's piece of junk he called a car was out front, he assumed Bruce had human company as well.
He tramped upstairs to his bedroom.
He knew Max was down there too. Every night for the past couple weeks. She kept her rented car discreetly placed away from the front entrance. Good thing. Otherwise her--country bumpkin lover-- would have noticed and asked an obvious question.
Feeling angry, Terry tugged his coat off and whipped it into a corner of his room. He didn't like that she was here all the time. Knowing she was here, knowing that all three were working together trying to outwit Al Ghul's plans and knowing deep down he should be involved drove him away from this place and into the short-lived security of alcohol.
He flopped back onto the king-sized bed and let himself drift further into the effects of the booze coursing through him. Visions of Max began to crowd his half-sleep which led to panicky thoughts that had him bolting upright.
He stumbled over to a window, rammed it open and desperately sucked in the cool night air.
He didn't want to go to sleep cause he knew what would happen. Very unpleasant dreams. This was all Whitfield's fault. Damn interloper. Got his mind dwelling on Max again. Never a good thing to do before falling asleep after getting sloshed. And seeing Weasel and Beaver tonight meant those dreams would be even more--imaginative.
The fresh air helped for awhile, but before long Terry succumbed to the lure of the bed. He stripped down to his underwear, crawled onto the mattress and gave in to weakness once more.
*******************
Max trudged up the cave steps, switching off the main lights just before making the step from batcave to mansion library. These half-nighters she'd been pulling with Bruce and sometimes Tim in the cave were starting to wear her down. It had been months since her body had been accustomed to existing on a few hours of sleep per day and it was beginning to protest the abuse. At the moment she felt like a wrung out washcloth ready to drop into a heap on the floor.
All the efforts to find what Al Guhl was doing to the city were leading them to inconclusive dead ends. They needed more data. In the past, Batman would have been sent out to investigate possible scenarios, quickly and unobtrusively. That option no longer existed.
For the longest time Max had convinced herself that Terry giving up Batman was best for all of them. The rationale had certainly eased her guilt about leaving. And realistically, Bruce's age would eventually have prevented him from continuing his role as Batman's mentor/backup. That would have left Terry alone on the vigilante crusade, which had negative connotations all its own.
Good, sound logic right? So weeks later, into the no longer hypothetical situation, why did she realize she had been wrong? Pretty simple. Here she was doing the usual detective backup work alongside Bruce who had not slacked off one iota on his life-long, self-inflicted duties to protect Gotham. And Terry... Terry was more unsettled and reckless than she had ever seen him as Batman.
So much for happy endings.
Max sighed audibly as she walked toward the looming front door of the mansion. She wasn't looking forward to the thirty minute drive to her apartment, but the soft comfort of a waiting bed at the end of the journey was incentive to keep going. Her arm reached out to the door latch, then halted in mid-air as an eerie sound edged the nighttime silence of the house.
Hairs along the nape of her neck rose in response. She tensed, waiting for more. It came again. Different. Harsher sounding even though it was muffled by distance.
Max immediately targeted the upper levels. A feeling of dread had her climbing the spiral staircase at a rapid pace.
The sound had faded away, leaving her standing uncertain on the stairway landing. Terry slept in the area where the sound seemed to have been coming from. Bruce had mentioned that Terry had been having some wild nightmares since his captivity. Was that what--?
Her insides clenched as the sound repeated, much clearer and stronger at this proximity. She wondered what horror he was dreaming to let a wail like that out. An instinctual need to end his pain had Max hurrying onward down the dark corridor.
**
A soft whine and clawed paw scratching insistently against his arm woke Bruce from sound sleep. Instantly alert, he heard the distant cry that was bothering Ace. It was Terry having one of those particularly bad nightmares again. He hadn't had any since Max returned. Too bad the interlude couldn't have lasted longer.
Nightmares were familiar territory for Bruce. Since his parents had been killed they had become an intimate part of his existence. He had learned to deal with them like he did everything else in his life. By controlling them with iron-hard determination. He still had them, but rarely let them be released in the manner Terry was experiencing right now. That was a weakness he fought hard against allowing.
He cringed as another of Terry's desolate cries echoed in the long hallway outside this room. Ace whimpered and gazed expectantly at him.
"Okay boy. We'll go wake him."
Ace woofed and wagged his stub of a tail before running to stand tense beside the bedroom door.
Feeling every worn joint in his body, Bruce rose stiffly from the bed. He wrapped a robe around himself and shuffled towards the door where Ace was waiting. A soft reminder for the big dog to heel was issued before Bruce opened the door. In step, they rounded the corner which would take them to Terry's section of rooms. A faint scent of familiar perfume hanging in the air had Bruce scanning the space ahead. He wasn't surprised to see Max at the far end of the hall, poised beside Terry's bedroom door.
Quickly he faded back around the corner with a soft command for the anxious animal at his heels. "Back Ace." He reached down to palm the broad head. "I don't think he needs us this time. Max will be able to do more for him than we ever could." His small smile twisted to a wry frown, "I hope."
With a final forlorn peek down the hallway, Ace turned to follow his master back into their room.
**
Though the strangled shouts had ceased abruptly she could still hear harsh, shaky breathing through the bedroom's cracked open door. Concern propelled her to push the door further ajar and step inside.
Moonlight from an opened window shone across the room and over Terry sitting up on the bed. He was half-turned in the window's direction, back towards her. Her side-view registered his head tipped up, mouth open, hair a disheveled sculpture in the darkness. His hands clutched and released the sheets in sync with his unsteady breathing. Shadows outlined the deep curves of his muscled back and heaving chest. Glistening sweat highlighted their raised surfaces.
Max took a step inside the room. Something kept her moving closer to him. She could have alerted him to her presence at the door. Why didn't she? Why did she have to be so close to him before she spoke?
She felt a soft breeze come through the open window. The scent of earth and green-growing life wafted in the air between them, triggering an unexplored elemental emotion deep inside. It gave her a strange sort of courage. The strength to believe that things could always change for the better if she kept trying.
Close enough to reach out and touch him, Max hesitated. Finally she murmured in the tense stillness,
"Terr?"
His head jerked in her direction, eyes wide in surprise.
Max's husky voice trembled with uncertainty, "You all right?"
He stared at her without blinking. Max froze. The intensity in his eyes made her feel like a nocturnal animal caught in a sudden glare of light. Her mind refused to move on to its next thought. Every erg of her being waited for him to move first and break the spell.
He did move. One arm slowly reaching out, hand circling around her forearm, pulling and urging her firmly down beside him. Max could not unlock her gaze from his. She became aware of warmth from his heated body, the smell of sweat and stronger masculine odor traced with scents of soap and alcohol.
His hands gripped both her arms, squaring her in front of him. The mesmerizing blue of his eyes held her enthralled as they seemed to bore inside her, searching/longing for something she didn't understand. His hoarse, anxious words confused her even more.
"He's wrong. I don't need you." Strong hands slid up to her shoulders, squeezing them in a possessive grip.
Trapped helplessly in his raw emotion, Max felt her pulse quicken, breaths increasing to match his.
His words were whispered and ragged, head shaking slowly back and forth, eyes never leaving hers. "I don't need you. I don't... need you. I don't..."
Unsure, Max shook her head in unison, murmuring trembling agreement. "No... no you don't. You don't need me... Terry..." Her hands came around to clasp his arms. Fingers began rhythmic stroking to counter his, almost painful, convulsive massage of her shoulders. "It's okay... shhh... it's okay..."
"Max?" His expression and voice reflected surprise that she was not only here, but reaching out to comfort him.
"I'm here." She crooned, wanting to ease his apparent distress. Longing for him to be whole again. Not the aimless, bereft man he had become. "I'm here for you Terr. You know I always have been."
His clammy palms tenderly cupped her face, "You love me Max." The assured revelation was overlaid with caution. "Admit it," his eyes and right hand stroked the curve of one cheek, "That's why you stayed," left hand stroked the other. "That's why you came back," then both hands together, fingers continuing on to burn a trail down the curves of her neck and settle restlessly on her shoulders once more. "That's why you're here now."
Sensations stirring within left her breathless. "Terry... don't..."
Max..." Desperation hung in his words. "Say it. Tell me the one thing I believe in is true."
Max bowed her head, the effort to pull away from his pleading gaze was monumental. She had freely given her heart and soul to him long ago. If that was love--then, yes, it was true. But now he wanted more from her. He wanted the words spoken and after that, the only thing she had left to offer him--was her body. Two simple things when compared with the complexities of the heart and soul. Two actions which she had withheld because she needed some kind of shield, thin though they were, for protection from the pain that would come if he was ever taken from her.
The gentle touch of his hand came to cup her chin and lift her face to his. "Max..."
The husky word rumbled from deep in his chest, its vibrations reaching out to nuzzle her hesitant heart. It responded with a painful lurch. A small gasp expelled from her lips, an anguished thought from her mind. 'I can't do this anymore. God help me. I can't--' Closing eyes tight to stop hot tears, Max leaned into his caress and surrendered to what she didn't want to fight any more. "Yes," a sharp sob followed the word. "Damn you... yes."
She felt the tension drain from him, his hands gentling where they lay on her shoulders. His warm breaths puffed lightly against her face as he moved closer. His lips brushed soft beneath her eyes, lifting the tears away.
Max was drawn into his strong embrace; chest to chest, the powerful beat of his heart colliding with hers. She heard his whispered words close to her ear, heavy with regret and relief and tumbling out with increasing urgency.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry Max. So sorry for everything... everything I've done to... to you and... and I just... I didn't know what... how to deal with... with this stuff in my head. I... I can't seem to... to... I... It doesn't make sense to me how... how..."
Words choked in his throat. Body trembling, he pressed his face against her shoulder and neck. Warm moisture seeped through there. She felt its touch on her skin.
Realization that he was crying triggered desperation inside her. Who would be the calm, sensible, strong one? Who would be the one to manage a rescue if they were both emotional wrecks? She didn't have an answer. All she could do was wrap her arms tight around his body and never let go. Her only rational thought being; if they were going to drown in this sea of anguish, they'd do it together.
*****
Hushed. Scent of moisture drifted in on the slight breeze entering the room. Rain pattered gently on the outside panes. The cooler air tingled against their warmly wrapped bodies. They parted slowly, reluctant to let go of the shared heat and touch.
Max looked at him with softness in her eyes and smile. She reached up impulsively to stroke the bearded surface of his cheeks. Eyes sparkling with delight she murmured.
"It's a lot softer than it looks."
"You like it?"
"I haven't decided yet." She tipped her head in curiosity. "Why'd you grow it?"
"Not sure really. Maybe I thought I could... hide behind it?" He finished on a wistful note and embarrassed grin.
"That." Max nodded understanding. "And the booze… and the anger… and the job?"
He released a resigned sign, head bowing. "I guess."
Her hands palmed his face again, lifting it. Her eyes drew in his wavering gaze and held it. Her husky, silken voice was assured. "You're going to be okay."
Terry's "Thank you," was inaudible, but Max saw the strong emotion in his eyes.
She smiled and let her fingers stroke the bearded jaw once more before dropping her hands. Terry reached out to grasp them, enfolding the slim digits firmly with his own. He lifted them gently to his mouth.
A frightening thrill tingled through Max at the feel of his lips pressed against her fingers. She found herself caught in his emotion once more, the expression in his blue eyes demanding yet unsure. Commonsense told her to pull away, that there were good reasons why their relationship shouldn't go any further. Something else was telling her not to stop, that this was meant to be.
Long association with one of the mentally strongest, most disciplined men she would probably ever know in her lifetime gave Max the impetus to pull away from Terry. Imagining Bruce's disapproval gave her the strength.
But then Terry had to go and whisper two little words, with that little hitch in his voice and her resolve turned to empathic mush.
"Don't go."
She let her eyes lock with his. Their gaze seamlessly melded into wordless understanding.
They had shared years of wanting and denial. They had been side by side yet distant. Their mutual realization had been held in check by fear and uncertainty. None of it mattered anymore. It all melted away this moment.
Overwhelming desire brought their lips together.
Their bodies.
Their souls.
No thoughts of the past or future. No more doubts.
Just this simple, timeless moment.
Shared.
***************
A million, billion THANK YOUS!! to all your words of encouragement and praise! I know the long intervals between updates is not a good thing, but this story is being inspired seventy percent by you and thirty percent by my vow to finish this 'monster' no matter how long it takes.
I've been reading a lot of writing books to get my creative impulses flowing again. They're helping and I BELIEVE I'll get there eventually. I wish you Peace and much happiness for the new year!!
He tramped upstairs to his bedroom.
He knew Max was down there too. Every night for the past couple weeks. She kept her rented car discreetly placed away from the front entrance. Good thing. Otherwise her--country bumpkin lover-- would have noticed and asked an obvious question.
Feeling angry, Terry tugged his coat off and whipped it into a corner of his room. He didn't like that she was here all the time. Knowing she was here, knowing that all three were working together trying to outwit Al Ghul's plans and knowing deep down he should be involved drove him away from this place and into the short-lived security of alcohol.
He flopped back onto the king-sized bed and let himself drift further into the effects of the booze coursing through him. Visions of Max began to crowd his half-sleep which led to panicky thoughts that had him bolting upright.
He stumbled over to a window, rammed it open and desperately sucked in the cool night air.
He didn't want to go to sleep cause he knew what would happen. Very unpleasant dreams. This was all Whitfield's fault. Damn interloper. Got his mind dwelling on Max again. Never a good thing to do before falling asleep after getting sloshed. And seeing Weasel and Beaver tonight meant those dreams would be even more--imaginative.
The fresh air helped for awhile, but before long Terry succumbed to the lure of the bed. He stripped down to his underwear, crawled onto the mattress and gave in to weakness once more.
*******************
Max trudged up the cave steps, switching off the main lights just before making the step from batcave to mansion library. These half-nighters she'd been pulling with Bruce and sometimes Tim in the cave were starting to wear her down. It had been months since her body had been accustomed to existing on a few hours of sleep per day and it was beginning to protest the abuse. At the moment she felt like a wrung out washcloth ready to drop into a heap on the floor.
All the efforts to find what Al Guhl was doing to the city were leading them to inconclusive dead ends. They needed more data. In the past, Batman would have been sent out to investigate possible scenarios, quickly and unobtrusively. That option no longer existed.
For the longest time Max had convinced herself that Terry giving up Batman was best for all of them. The rationale had certainly eased her guilt about leaving. And realistically, Bruce's age would eventually have prevented him from continuing his role as Batman's mentor/backup. That would have left Terry alone on the vigilante crusade, which had negative connotations all its own.
Good, sound logic right? So weeks later, into the no longer hypothetical situation, why did she realize she had been wrong? Pretty simple. Here she was doing the usual detective backup work alongside Bruce who had not slacked off one iota on his life-long, self-inflicted duties to protect Gotham. And Terry... Terry was more unsettled and reckless than she had ever seen him as Batman.
So much for happy endings.
Max sighed audibly as she walked toward the looming front door of the mansion. She wasn't looking forward to the thirty minute drive to her apartment, but the soft comfort of a waiting bed at the end of the journey was incentive to keep going. Her arm reached out to the door latch, then halted in mid-air as an eerie sound edged the nighttime silence of the house.
Hairs along the nape of her neck rose in response. She tensed, waiting for more. It came again. Different. Harsher sounding even though it was muffled by distance.
Max immediately targeted the upper levels. A feeling of dread had her climbing the spiral staircase at a rapid pace.
The sound had faded away, leaving her standing uncertain on the stairway landing. Terry slept in the area where the sound seemed to have been coming from. Bruce had mentioned that Terry had been having some wild nightmares since his captivity. Was that what--?
Her insides clenched as the sound repeated, much clearer and stronger at this proximity. She wondered what horror he was dreaming to let a wail like that out. An instinctual need to end his pain had Max hurrying onward down the dark corridor.
**
A soft whine and clawed paw scratching insistently against his arm woke Bruce from sound sleep. Instantly alert, he heard the distant cry that was bothering Ace. It was Terry having one of those particularly bad nightmares again. He hadn't had any since Max returned. Too bad the interlude couldn't have lasted longer.
Nightmares were familiar territory for Bruce. Since his parents had been killed they had become an intimate part of his existence. He had learned to deal with them like he did everything else in his life. By controlling them with iron-hard determination. He still had them, but rarely let them be released in the manner Terry was experiencing right now. That was a weakness he fought hard against allowing.
He cringed as another of Terry's desolate cries echoed in the long hallway outside this room. Ace whimpered and gazed expectantly at him.
"Okay boy. We'll go wake him."
Ace woofed and wagged his stub of a tail before running to stand tense beside the bedroom door.
Feeling every worn joint in his body, Bruce rose stiffly from the bed. He wrapped a robe around himself and shuffled towards the door where Ace was waiting. A soft reminder for the big dog to heel was issued before Bruce opened the door. In step, they rounded the corner which would take them to Terry's section of rooms. A faint scent of familiar perfume hanging in the air had Bruce scanning the space ahead. He wasn't surprised to see Max at the far end of the hall, poised beside Terry's bedroom door.
Quickly he faded back around the corner with a soft command for the anxious animal at his heels. "Back Ace." He reached down to palm the broad head. "I don't think he needs us this time. Max will be able to do more for him than we ever could." His small smile twisted to a wry frown, "I hope."
With a final forlorn peek down the hallway, Ace turned to follow his master back into their room.
**
Though the strangled shouts had ceased abruptly she could still hear harsh, shaky breathing through the bedroom's cracked open door. Concern propelled her to push the door further ajar and step inside.
Moonlight from an opened window shone across the room and over Terry sitting up on the bed. He was half-turned in the window's direction, back towards her. Her side-view registered his head tipped up, mouth open, hair a disheveled sculpture in the darkness. His hands clutched and released the sheets in sync with his unsteady breathing. Shadows outlined the deep curves of his muscled back and heaving chest. Glistening sweat highlighted their raised surfaces.
Max took a step inside the room. Something kept her moving closer to him. She could have alerted him to her presence at the door. Why didn't she? Why did she have to be so close to him before she spoke?
She felt a soft breeze come through the open window. The scent of earth and green-growing life wafted in the air between them, triggering an unexplored elemental emotion deep inside. It gave her a strange sort of courage. The strength to believe that things could always change for the better if she kept trying.
Close enough to reach out and touch him, Max hesitated. Finally she murmured in the tense stillness,
"Terr?"
His head jerked in her direction, eyes wide in surprise.
Max's husky voice trembled with uncertainty, "You all right?"
He stared at her without blinking. Max froze. The intensity in his eyes made her feel like a nocturnal animal caught in a sudden glare of light. Her mind refused to move on to its next thought. Every erg of her being waited for him to move first and break the spell.
He did move. One arm slowly reaching out, hand circling around her forearm, pulling and urging her firmly down beside him. Max could not unlock her gaze from his. She became aware of warmth from his heated body, the smell of sweat and stronger masculine odor traced with scents of soap and alcohol.
His hands gripped both her arms, squaring her in front of him. The mesmerizing blue of his eyes held her enthralled as they seemed to bore inside her, searching/longing for something she didn't understand. His hoarse, anxious words confused her even more.
"He's wrong. I don't need you." Strong hands slid up to her shoulders, squeezing them in a possessive grip.
Trapped helplessly in his raw emotion, Max felt her pulse quicken, breaths increasing to match his.
His words were whispered and ragged, head shaking slowly back and forth, eyes never leaving hers. "I don't need you. I don't... need you. I don't..."
Unsure, Max shook her head in unison, murmuring trembling agreement. "No... no you don't. You don't need me... Terry..." Her hands came around to clasp his arms. Fingers began rhythmic stroking to counter his, almost painful, convulsive massage of her shoulders. "It's okay... shhh... it's okay..."
"Max?" His expression and voice reflected surprise that she was not only here, but reaching out to comfort him.
"I'm here." She crooned, wanting to ease his apparent distress. Longing for him to be whole again. Not the aimless, bereft man he had become. "I'm here for you Terr. You know I always have been."
His clammy palms tenderly cupped her face, "You love me Max." The assured revelation was overlaid with caution. "Admit it," his eyes and right hand stroked the curve of one cheek, "That's why you stayed," left hand stroked the other. "That's why you came back," then both hands together, fingers continuing on to burn a trail down the curves of her neck and settle restlessly on her shoulders once more. "That's why you're here now."
Sensations stirring within left her breathless. "Terry... don't..."
Max..." Desperation hung in his words. "Say it. Tell me the one thing I believe in is true."
Max bowed her head, the effort to pull away from his pleading gaze was monumental. She had freely given her heart and soul to him long ago. If that was love--then, yes, it was true. But now he wanted more from her. He wanted the words spoken and after that, the only thing she had left to offer him--was her body. Two simple things when compared with the complexities of the heart and soul. Two actions which she had withheld because she needed some kind of shield, thin though they were, for protection from the pain that would come if he was ever taken from her.
The gentle touch of his hand came to cup her chin and lift her face to his. "Max..."
The husky word rumbled from deep in his chest, its vibrations reaching out to nuzzle her hesitant heart. It responded with a painful lurch. A small gasp expelled from her lips, an anguished thought from her mind. 'I can't do this anymore. God help me. I can't--' Closing eyes tight to stop hot tears, Max leaned into his caress and surrendered to what she didn't want to fight any more. "Yes," a sharp sob followed the word. "Damn you... yes."
She felt the tension drain from him, his hands gentling where they lay on her shoulders. His warm breaths puffed lightly against her face as he moved closer. His lips brushed soft beneath her eyes, lifting the tears away.
Max was drawn into his strong embrace; chest to chest, the powerful beat of his heart colliding with hers. She heard his whispered words close to her ear, heavy with regret and relief and tumbling out with increasing urgency.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry Max. So sorry for everything... everything I've done to... to you and... and I just... I didn't know what... how to deal with... with this stuff in my head. I... I can't seem to... to... I... It doesn't make sense to me how... how..."
Words choked in his throat. Body trembling, he pressed his face against her shoulder and neck. Warm moisture seeped through there. She felt its touch on her skin.
Realization that he was crying triggered desperation inside her. Who would be the calm, sensible, strong one? Who would be the one to manage a rescue if they were both emotional wrecks? She didn't have an answer. All she could do was wrap her arms tight around his body and never let go. Her only rational thought being; if they were going to drown in this sea of anguish, they'd do it together.
*****
Hushed. Scent of moisture drifted in on the slight breeze entering the room. Rain pattered gently on the outside panes. The cooler air tingled against their warmly wrapped bodies. They parted slowly, reluctant to let go of the shared heat and touch.
Max looked at him with softness in her eyes and smile. She reached up impulsively to stroke the bearded surface of his cheeks. Eyes sparkling with delight she murmured.
"It's a lot softer than it looks."
"You like it?"
"I haven't decided yet." She tipped her head in curiosity. "Why'd you grow it?"
"Not sure really. Maybe I thought I could... hide behind it?" He finished on a wistful note and embarrassed grin.
"That." Max nodded understanding. "And the booze… and the anger… and the job?"
He released a resigned sign, head bowing. "I guess."
Her hands palmed his face again, lifting it. Her eyes drew in his wavering gaze and held it. Her husky, silken voice was assured. "You're going to be okay."
Terry's "Thank you," was inaudible, but Max saw the strong emotion in his eyes.
She smiled and let her fingers stroke the bearded jaw once more before dropping her hands. Terry reached out to grasp them, enfolding the slim digits firmly with his own. He lifted them gently to his mouth.
A frightening thrill tingled through Max at the feel of his lips pressed against her fingers. She found herself caught in his emotion once more, the expression in his blue eyes demanding yet unsure. Commonsense told her to pull away, that there were good reasons why their relationship shouldn't go any further. Something else was telling her not to stop, that this was meant to be.
Long association with one of the mentally strongest, most disciplined men she would probably ever know in her lifetime gave Max the impetus to pull away from Terry. Imagining Bruce's disapproval gave her the strength.
But then Terry had to go and whisper two little words, with that little hitch in his voice and her resolve turned to empathic mush.
"Don't go."
She let her eyes lock with his. Their gaze seamlessly melded into wordless understanding.
They had shared years of wanting and denial. They had been side by side yet distant. Their mutual realization had been held in check by fear and uncertainty. None of it mattered anymore. It all melted away this moment.
Overwhelming desire brought their lips together.
Their bodies.
Their souls.
No thoughts of the past or future. No more doubts.
Just this simple, timeless moment.
Shared.
***************
A million, billion THANK YOUS!! to all your words of encouragement and praise! I know the long intervals between updates is not a good thing, but this story is being inspired seventy percent by you and thirty percent by my vow to finish this 'monster' no matter how long it takes.
I've been reading a lot of writing books to get my creative impulses flowing again. They're helping and I BELIEVE I'll get there eventually. I wish you Peace and much happiness for the new year!!