here's something quick I threw together. sorry if it's not the best. I also posted a new chapter to TEH tonight for those readers. As I mentioned there i'm going to be incredibly busy over these passing months which will probably cut into my writing time so please bear with me and I promise I will do everything in my power to update ASAP. I apologize for any typos or that shiznet. I really just wanted to update it.

guest reviewer: ya know - you prove a valid point. A very valid point indeed. I will admit that. ^_^ Anyways, if you would like to discuss the story further feel free to message me! I love when my readers discuss stuff with me in my messages - it's actually helped make me a better writer. So yeah.

alright guys. read away. And lol to the readers who lost their shizzle with Max's death: FORGIVE MEEEEEEEEEEEE! :D

The Ditch

Chapter Four

Breathe

She'd heard people talk about a light at the end of a tunnel, of a supernatural pull that guided them upwards towards it – but honestly the last thing Max had recollection of was the blurred vision of her eyelids closing as they caught glimpse of a vapor of smoke – her last breath – rise into the air in a mystical dance before the world grew black. From there it seemed as if nothing but darkness surrounded the girl. Gibson was aware that she was gone – but had no idea as to where. It was if her very memories and senses had become jumbled then dissipated altogether. Was that even possible? The girl felt lost in a void yet had no real thought of how to escape it; perhaps content in being lost. Was there some kind of in between realm? A place which lingered in the middle of life and heaven or hell? Was she even dead to begin with? It was absolutely odd how confused yet self-aware Maxine Gibson was. Like, this couldn't be normal…could it?

Though it wasn't like she could do anything about it now; only debate on what would come next. Would she go to hell because she'd been pissed at her mom? Ya know, the whole "honor thy father and mother" bit? She scoffed. Did that even apply when her mother had been a total dreg to her? Confusion. Though once again, it was too late to wonder about that. Max had accepted the end – after all, there was no hope. What use would it be to suffer any longer when no one-?

The void shifted suddenly and Max – or her spirit? Whatever – was thrown about the obscurity in an invisible whirlwind. A flare of pain rested beneath her breast as a soft thump made itself present before her body grew numb once more to sensation. The hell was that? Immediately Gibson became dumbfounded while she searched about the void for some indication of an answer to what made no sense. How could she be dead and yet feel pain? She wasn't in hell. What shizzle dizzle-? The void tilted again much more violently this time, throwing the being down as a frightfully conquering rush of air overwhelmed Maxine to the point she gasped and clutched at her throat with a whimper. Confusion shifted to fear; and Gibson daughter pleaded through faint gasps for her assault to please come to an end.

"Max!" came a soft whisper filled with urgency. "Max wake up!" Her brown irises flared open with a bolt. Terry? Her grip on her throat lessened as she tried to unravel the tangled reality in which she found herself. "Max, wake up!" It WAS him!

"TERRY!" Max's mind seemed to scream out. A white line shone above her in response to her mental cry, and for the first time a swelling feeling of relief rushed through the young woman's heart as she felt it make the toil to beat once more…

The solidity of the void vanished into pools of tar that reached out for the girl as if recognizing its inhabitant was on the verge of departure. The tar hooked around her ankles with a guttural, hypnotizing moan that urged its quarry to stay – almost engulfing Gibson in a sudden drowsiness and frailty. This couldn't be the place she thought it was – this could not be a willing world if it wished to force her here. No. She didn't want this! Max struggled to her feet, desperately trying to fight off the sticky captor off but seemingly to no avail. She was wrong: Max hadn't accepted death. If she had, she wouldn't be struggling – maybe not even here in this strange realm as if still debating between life and death. She'd given up; giving up couldn't be the same as acceptance – not in this! Gibson wasn't ready to die – she'd only been afraid of waiting for help to come; afraid of the disappointment of being alone again. "MAX!"

It was all perfectly clear now – and in her realization came a newfound strength and resolve as the girl put all of her strength in resisting the ever holding void. She didn't WANT to die! Max looked up at the light that grew closer, reaching a hand upwards as the void crawled along her frame, easing its force upon her; trying to drag its captive back down into the darkness for good. "TERRY!" Like spider webs the void completely engulfed her chest and now its strands gripped about her face. But Max growled defiantly and strained, eyes never leaving from the light as if in fear that an aversion of her gaze meant a seal in the teen's demise; her outstretched fingers reached as far as they could. She didn't want to die. The blackness oozed along her arm. The light nearly touched her fingertips. She wanted to LIVE!

"MAAAAAAAX!"

Brown eyelids pulled back open and lungs sucked in a long, grateful breath before shifting irises found a black suited figure hunched over its chest in defeat. The black donned creature was still and silent like a statue that at first it didn't appear he was real until his body trembled against her; though she could not tell if it was due to the chill or grief. Max Gibson, revived from an entrapment that lingered between life and true death, opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was so dry it hurt and nearly choked her. So instead the young woman tenderly reached out a red decorated hand and placed it against the cowled cheek of her dear friend. With a start he whipped his gaze up to her, and Batman grinned in sorrowed relief.

"Max…" he whispered to her, cupping her face in his palms as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead many times thankfully while lingering tears drenched the hero's cheeks – tears of grief now transformed to those of happiness. "Max," he cooed her name over and over again between the praised kisses. He'd given up on her resurrection and yet she had returned – she was here, and the teen's emotions were wrapped up in a fell swoop of joy in her life and pain of her loss.

In all the time they'd known each other, Max didn't think she had ever seen Terry cry before. Somehow it was a humbling experience as opposed to a shocking one; especially if he cried over her. Dummy. Gibson shakily touched his chest, pushing the boy back a little to look into those white eyes alongside a soft yet incredibly feeble smile. She opened her mouth to speak but rather choked slightly, causing the Batman to caress her head and shush her. "Don't talk," the vigilante commanded quietly. "Save your strength. I'm going to get you out of here." After assessing and gauging the surrounding walls of snow, the Dark Knight turned his attention for the floating vehicle; starting to weigh the idea of moving her himself. He knew he could do it, but the real question was if he should. Terrence McGinnis may have possessed the skills to stop injustice throughout Gotham City but the lad did NOT have medical training (save CPR) – and given Max's injuries he felt a certain level of confliction in attempting to move the girl than he normally would. "Bruce…"

"Don't even think about it, McGinnis," replied the old man harshly almost reading his pupil's thoughts – though deep down he felt his soul quiver in a wash of emotion: sadness, hope….relief. Bruce Wayne never felt as old as he did right then. Hell, in those few minutes he almost considered retiring…almost. "I've got an ambulance on the way. Try not to move her. God knows what other injuries she could have." Wayne paused, staring into the screen before him with furrowed brows and laced fingers. "And McGinnis?" he adds as the sound of approaching sirens grew suddenly louder. "Good work…"

The hero had nothing to say – he didn't think what he did was a good job. Sure bringing Max back was the best thing he'd ever done in his life. But the madness he'd executed in doing it, his sheer refusal to let her go…it…well, bothered him. Terry loved Max beyond words – but it never became truly apparent just how important she was to him until the moment he saw her lying there in the snow covered in her own blood; dead. He'd taken this gig for granted plenty of times. He'd cockily always assumed nothing could ever happen to the people he cared the most about because he was freaking "Batman". But finding Max like that: cold and dead, no longer alive to yell at him for being late or put the boy in check with her attitude, made the teen realize just how dangerous this world is, how frail the people around him could be – and how mortal he really was. The young predecessor could see that anyone close to him (any friend or family member) could easily be hurt or killed – and just as easily there could be a day when there would be nothing McGinnis could do nothing about it. Terry had never thought of what it would be like if he couldn't get there in time…until the moment when he'd gotten there too late.

The ambulance and Gotham P.D. patrol cars came to a skidding halt alongside the ditch. Not like they could miss it with a giant headlight coming out of the Batmobile in the middle of nowhere. Instantaneously the EMTs were out their vehicle and sliding down the snow covered embankment, barking to each other what they needed and looking Max over. With the quiet washed away, Max's eyes widened for a brief moment as Batman suddenly leaped back to give the technicians room to do their work, yet he remained in the ditch in her view – keeping a close eye over her in disapproval of the newcomers. Bats knew this was their jobs but it made McGinnis uncomfortable with having to leave the girl's side so shortly after finding her, even if it was for a brief moment.

One of the technicians (an older built guy with a whitened beard and wise, compassionate eyes) winced as he lifted the pants up her frozen left leg gingerly. It was so cold the skin had turned blue and become swollen over in a manner that made even him cringe – just when a guy thought he'd seen it all… "Leg's broken," he told his partner who was checking Max's head for injury. "The bone's snapped in half, clean through. Ankle looks off too. Might be out."

"I don't see any cranial damage," reported the other (a much younger counterpart to his superior) aloud before looking over her side where the pooling of blood had pretty much turned to a river of reddened icicles within the snow. It somehow looked disturbingly beautiful, he thought to himself. "I've got a laceration on her side there. I need you to apply pressure on it, she's lost a lot of blood. Ma'am," he addressed Max as she'd appeared to be falling to sleep, her confounded and weak gaze shifting over to him. "Ma'am we're going to take care of you. You're going to be alright." Damn straight she'd better be, Batman thought to himself as a second police vehicle pulled up and Commissioner Barbara Gordon stepped out of it with a disgusted gaze. The Commissioner motioned for the Bat and he grudgingly headed atop the ditch to stand before her emotionlessly. The other attending officers gave them space. It had become an unspoken rule: whenever the Commissioner and the Bat were together, whatever they said was between them. Questioning that was as pointless as it was unbeneficial.

"So," Barbara started, watching the flurry of activity beneath them with a look that shifted to concern. "I see you found her."

Batman fidgeted uncomfortably at her implication: not sure whether it sounded as if she were judging him, or if the future Dark Knight was only pushing his own guilt onto her words. "Yeah. But I fucked up, Commish."

Gordon raised a brow in her signature glance that demanded an explanation to such a statement. How could he have messed anything up? The girl was alive and heading to get the proper treatment she needed for her horrific wounds. "Look kid, with all the craziness going on out here tonight it's not your fault-."

"She was dead," Batman cut off whatever positive bull Gordon was about to give him loud enough for everyone to hear, causing the EMT's to start moving around like madmen. Deceased? That made everything a little more complex. They had to get this girl to a hospital immediately. Barbara's expression betrayed the shock she felt, which only made him feel like an even bigger piece of shit. "I got here, but it was over. She was gone, Barb," he whispered low, feeling the disbelief of that not so distant memory washing over the hero all over again. "Max was dead, and it's all because I couldn't find her in time." The Bat's countenance seemed to shrink with shame.

Didn't she and Bruce know that feeling of guilt well enough by now? Years upon years of it weighing them down until they'd become who they currently were. Sometimes Barbara wondered if she would've changed a single thing about what had been done back then…But somehow the answer always came back the same. The shock fled from the once Batgirl as her face returned to its stony reserve. "But she's alive now. And I'm assuming you have something to do with that." Batman didn't answer her and Gordon sighed, placing her hands in her jacket pockets. "Don't beat yourself, kid. She's here now. Isn't that what's most important?"

Batman scowled. He disdained that condescending tone that she and Wayne could so easily use on people. "What's most important is if you pick up the assholes who did this to her!" he snapped.

But Barbara merely gave him a mischievous glint, not in the least bit bothered by his sharp retort. "Already done. That's what took me so long to get here. Thank your boss for relaying that info to me."

The younger Emergency Technician came from around the back of the truck where the stretcher was waiting atop the ditch and jogged over towards the two. "I'm sorry to interrupt," he said apologetically with a worried expression as he hugged his body tight against the blistering cold wind. "But we could use some help."

"What do you need?" inquired the Bat, completely wiping Barbara from his mind with the possibility that Max needed him and ready to assist any way that he could.

The EMT pointed toward the ditch in indication and explained through a tight frown, "We got to get her out of there. She's practically frozen to death-," Batman growled at that expression given the previous situation, "-but there's a slight problem: the ditch is too deep and narrow to get the stretcher down there, which means we'd have to carry her up…but with her leg like it is-."

The Caped Crusader of the future narrowed his eyes but nodded in understanding. "I'll bring her up. Just be ready to take her to the hospital." Without another word Batman made his way down into the ditch as the other technician moved aside and climbed out. Batman looked down at Max and felt his heart quake. God she looked so tired and weak. "Max?" he whispered. Her blank eyes seemed to come to life at the sound of his voice and she stared right at him, almost through him. Terry swallowed. "Max, I'm going to get you out of this. Okay?" The girl merely nodded and Batman gingerly wrapped his arms around her, never taking his gaze from hers to watch for any signs of pain, and pulled the best friend close. He gasped to himself at not being able to tell the difference between the snow and her ice cold body. Max's shaky arms loosely clung around his shoulders as her savior braced himself against the grounding beneath them. He was pretty positive that she was numb from the cold and wouldn't feel anything, but the thought of having to move Gibson in her condition still made the teen uncomfortable. He hoped to God that she wouldn't feel this. Slowly, carefully, he rose upright and gripped the girl tighter as her weight began to shift under the gravity. Max's fingers dug into his shoulders and she winced – feeling no pain exactly, but a disconcerting pull on her left leg as they finally came completely upright. "Just hold on," Batman comforted the pink haired beauty as her body tensed against him. The jets on the bottom of his boots ignited and before they knew it, the two were airborne. What was only a couple seconds of flight out of the ditch onto higher ground felt like an eternity. Gibson thought she felt tired being down in the ditch waiting for rescue to come, yet somehow now with help here her level of exhaustion was stifling. Still…

Feeling his warm arms about her tightly in protection and assurance of that protection was comforting, soothing even. For the first time since her fall, Max felt like she would make it beyond this – the hell was finally over… "Ter…ry…" the girl managed to hiss out as the two landed, causing McGinnis to give her an appalled and heartbreaking look. He stood there, holding her up in his arms as she stared at him, and he her. The way she said his name – it seemed filled with hope, joy; not the anger or unforgiveness or sense of betrayal that he'd expected she would have for him. Had he not allowed this to happen? Had he not flown right over her and left her to die? Had he not failed to find her sooner? How could she-?

"Get her on the stretcher," ordered the senior EMT as he reached forward and proceeded to pull Max out of the Bat's arms impatiently. However, he was met with a slew of curses and growls that made him back off immediately. Giving the technician a hard scowl, McGinnis cautiously laid his best friend on the stretcher, noting her squeezing his shoulders again and wincing in discomfort before grabbing his hand once securely laid to rest as the EMTs took over and began strapping her in and radioing the nearest hospital of their approach.

"I'll see you," Batman hinted to her softly as the stretcher wheeled towards the back of the ambulance.

Max's weary eyes seemed nervous at the sudden swift movements. "Ter," she stopped herself. "Bat…man?"

"It's going to be okay," he answered her guiltily as their hands were forced apart and her stretcher raised up swiftly into the blinding lighted rear of the emergency vehicle.

Of course he couldn't ride with her, but somehow she still felt a surge of panic at being separated from her best friend and she sat up a little only to feel hands try to force her back down. " !"

Watching her struggle nearly killed him. "Max-."

"BATMAN?!" The ambulance doors slammed shut and the driver ran around front, hopping inside and turning on the siren once more before speeding off down the snow covered road; disappearing when they turned into an alley that led to the main road, leaving the Bat and the Commissioner behind.

Barbara watched the young hero before turning and climbing down into her vehicle. "Do whatever you gotta do. We've got this." Whatever she was referring to was left to be seen, only because Gordon was obviously offering him a choice; and whatever he chose, she and her men would be able to handle Gotham; with or without his help. She closed the car door and drove off further down the road with the second police vehicle following suit beyond where the ambulance had turned off as the vigilante stood there – the image of Max's frightful face, the sound of her desperate voice, filled his thoughts. She was going to be okay...

"Breathe, McGinnis," the teen told himself, trying to come up with the right decision on what to do. "Breathe."

"Terry," came the old man's voice over the comlink. "You know what you've got to do. You know what's most important right now. So just do it."

McGinnis clenched his fist. Why did such a simple choice have to become so complex? What was most important? His friendship with Max even though he knew she was in good hands now? Or his duty to Gotham City – to prevent anyone else from experiencing something like this again because of maniacs?

Just breathe, McGinnis – he told himself. And please don't stop breathing…Max…

To Be Continued...