Chapter 13

2041:

The sound of the phone ringing broke through the conversation. Dana got up to answer it. When she came back her eyebrows were drawn together and her lip pursed.

"Pa..." Mr. Tan looked up expectantly.

Terry watched as Dana fidgeted with the hem of her blouse before she continued. When she did he was still none the wiser as to the source of her hesitance, but he did have a gnawing sensation at the back of his head that something was off.

"It's Uncle Jimmy. He says he's coming over in half an hour, with Uncle George and Uncle Harry," Mr. Tan's eyes had narrowed as soon as the first name was mentioned.

"Did you not tell Uncle Jimmy that he isn't welcome in this house?"

"Pa..."

"Well, did you?" the man's voice had been steadily increasing in volume.

"He just called and said they were coming over for mahjong, then he hung up." Mr. Tan's jaw worked for a few more moments before he sighed and sagged into his chair. Then he looked at Terry with an apologetic grimace.

"It would seem that we must cut this lunch short."

"That's okay, sir, it was very good. Thank you, both," Terry said, looking between the worried Mrs. Tan her deflated husband.

"Dana will show you to the door."

Utterly bemused, Terry walked with Dana out of the dining room in silence, only speaking as they neared the doorway.

"I had no idea you had so many uncles," he said. Dana snorted, and turned to look at him.

"Oh Terry, they aren't really my uncles," she said, then at the increasing confusion on his face added by means of explanation, "It's a term we use to show any elder respect. We've got other names for our real relatives anyway. My father-"

"Likes tradition. Yeah, I got that bit." Now the suspicious nagging had increased. Terry decided to push further, "So, who is this 'Uncle Jimmy' then?"

"A friend of Pa's from college. He wasn't called Jimmy then, his birth name was Lin Tak-Fu."

Lin. Jimmy Lin.

Dana hadn't stopped speaking. "Yeah, he used to come by a lot when I was little. But not anymore. Pa turned on the television one day, you know that show a while back, something Peek?" Terry nodded. "Well Uncle Jimmy was on it, and Pa basically blew up. Raged on about trust and 'should have known'. Didn't let me or Ma watch it either. Now every time his name is mentioned he gets into that kinda rage." She looked back down the hallway.

"You'd better go. I'm real sorry about all this, Terry." She gave him a soft smile. Terry returned it, and touched her cheek.

"Naw Dana, it was good." When she continued looking unsure, he let his hand cup her face and touched their foreheads together. "Really Dana, real schway of your parents."

Inside his head was churning.

As soon as he got to where his bike was parked he retrieved the suit and ducked out of sight to slip into it.

"Bruce!"

"Parents kicked you out so soon?" the voice on the other end crackled into life, but the teasing tone held an undercurrent of wary alertness.

"Not so lucky. Well, not exactly. Jimmy Lin knows Dana's dad, and is visiting in about twenty minutes. I'm going to hang around and see if anything comes up. Mr. Tan seemed pretty angry about the whole thing."

"He would be, if it's any sort of underground muscling. His company is funded in part by Foxteca."

"Oh. What fun."

"Be careful."

"Well?"

Terry slipped the helmet off his head as he got off the bike, squinting at the bright screen at the other end of the dark cave.

"Nothing much. Mr. Tan effectively told them to bugger off. The word business proposal was brought up, along with good deal, and best price. Might as well have been at a fish market." Terry sighed and carded his fingers through his hair. "So we've got a cloaking machine, connections with China, and trying to force the hands of smaller businesses?" Terry pursed his lips in annoyance. "It's still not much."

"I agree. Hopefully J'onn might have something for us soon. He's working with Ryan Choi to see what they can find." At a look from Terry he elaborated, "Micron's old mentor. Took over from Ray Palmer, the Atom. He's been off the Justice League roster for a long time."

Terry made a mental note to really, really start reading through the Justice League database history. For future reference, of course. He had gone over the profiles of current members when Superman had first asked him to, and even then it had been more of their recent history, not links back to bygone eras. If it were, the search result for Superman alone would have been a mammoth task.

"Whatever they want to hide, it's going to be big," a voice sounded from the top of the staircase. Terry heard Bruce mutter about the world sneaking up on him in his old age, and tried to prevent the smile that was threatening to break out over his face.

"Why is it, that every time you come, Diana, Ace does nothing?" The dog in question was looking down the staircase from his place beside the Princess. Diana positively beamed.

"Oh, I wouldn't say nothing. He wags his tail."

"Lousy guard dog," Bruce groused in reply. Ace merely wagged his tail harder.

"He just knows I'm a friend, don't you?" Diana said, petting Ace's head before descending the steps. Bruce harrumphed.

2036:

Bruce had been looking forward to beat the pulp out of the annoying punk, knowing the idiot wouldn't pass the chance to lunge again at his back. Then a black mass of fur had jumped out of nowhere and tackled the blundering buffoon, then yelped and fell to the side. Bruce sneered, adrenaline coursing through him as he took another good look at the punk. A Joker. He hated Jokerz. Idiots didn't even know who they were trying to emulate. Kids who needed to be taught a lesson.

He soon sent the punk running down the street. Cowardly still, he noted with a degree of satisfaction.

Then he looked down at his feet, where a large black dog lay, its eyes half shut and body limp. But it was still breathing. Male, a kind of Danish mix, by the looks of it. His driver knew better than to question him when he asked to be driven to the nearest veterinary hospital.

"What will happen to him?" he asked the vet after she had examined the dog.

"Well, he wasn't hurt that bad, he'll heal. Slight malnutrition, looks like he's been on the street for a couple of months."

"What I mean is, what if no one claims him?"

The vet gave him an apologetic shake of the head, "Then I'm afraid he'll be placed in an animal shelter. You say he attacked a bystander?"

"He attacked a would be thief."

"They might still put in his records his violent tendencies. Frankly sir, he'll likely be put down in a month if they find him unsuitable to be put for adoption. Maybe sooner."

Put down. A nice euphemism for a quick death. The day was filled with death. The roses lying in Crime Alley probably crumpled and broken now, even as the memory of his parents continued to fill his mind. He looked at the yellow strip of wallpaper surrounding the clinic's room, and thought back to a person who was supposed to be 'put down', in effect. Take her down, Waller had said, like she was a machine, like she was an animal that had gone wild and needed to be.

"I'm dying very soon, aren't I?"

"Yes... I'm sorry."

"Could you stay with me? I'm scared."

He had. And he had watched a young life ebb away before him, her haunted eyes very much like another young man whose life had been twisted by the machinations of others. Internally, he winced as the hollow eyes of Timothy Drake with slicked back hair and a white powdered face burned through his memory. Barely a child, and without so much as a childhood. He had told her he knew what it was like to be cheated out of his childhood then, but the truth was, he had at least enjoyed part of it. She hadn't even had that chance, raised in a cold lab as she had. He was brought out of his reverie as the dog licked the hand he didn't know he had placed on the table. He looked at it. There was too much death this day already, and the chill the past two weeks reminded him all the more of his own mortality as his thigh throbbed despite the extra stretches he had made sure to do in the morning.

And Tim had always wanted a dog.

Lifting his eyes to the vet, he inquired as to the availability of forms for a Dog Registration Number. She smiled, and told him they would inoculate the dog as well, wishing him well.

"Name of the dog sir? For our own records as well."

Could you stay with me? I'm...

"Ace."

"Lucky name."

He looked down at the newly named Ace, now sporting a collar, leash in his hand.

"Not really," he told the counter staff, and walked to the car, marvelling slightly that the dog came to heel so quickly. Yes Batman, balding and alone, and you still inspire misplaced loyalty. Congratulations. Or maybe not so alone after all, he thought to himself.

2041:

"Anyway, I'm heading home first. I'll be out in time for patrol, contact you then," he waved at Bruce and walked back towards the bike. Bruce activated the exit bridge, and watched as he sped off. Ace butted his palm with his nose, and Bruce moved his hand to scratch behind the dog's ears unconsciously.

"I'm surprised you haven't been at your office today."

"What can I say? I'm an old man, I need my rest." Bruce said to Diana as they walked back up the steps. His daily exercise, he thought to himself. As long as he could lay off using the elevator, he was still good. "Besides," he continued, "I can't go around micro-managing things, now can I?"

"You, not permanently in control?" Diana laughed in that infectious way of hers, "You can't fool me."

They made their way in companionable silence to the living room, this time sitting beside each other on the same two-seater settee. After a while Diana began humming a soft, lilting tune. Bruce placed it after the first four notes and turned his head sharply to look at her. Diana's eyes were shut, lashes falling against her skin. Dressed in slacks and a cotton top, she still managed to maintain a regal poise which betrayed her true upbringing. He raised an eyebrow in question as she opened her eyes, "Now I'm the sad and lonely one?"

"I didn't say anything," she replied, but she was teasing.

"Very telling."

Her face softened. "And you're not, really, anymore." She leaned back. "He's good for you."

"Ace?"

"Terry, you silly man. You know, he really does look quite a bit like-"

"I know." She turned to him now, brows lifted at his quick answer.

"You mean...?"

"Yes, I think so."

"It doesn't change anything," he added quickly. "And I did not know. I had my suspicions. It didn't take much to confirm it. And I contacted those responsible once I found that out too." He allowed his lip to curl into a sneer as he recalled how that conversation had gone.

"Who else knows?"

"Clark figured it out pretty quickly." Diana stopped for a moment, staring at the coffee table as she considered her next words. They came slowly.

"So when I asked you the other day what he was to you..."

"It doesn't change anything, I've said." He looked at Diana, face serious, "I have no claims on the boy."

"Yet he claims your mantle."

John's point to him decades earlier came back to echo in his head.

"I do still wonder how that happened."