I never did a disclaimer, did I? Well, here it is: I don't own it. I own this particular story, and any original characters contained therein, but that's it. And no, I'm not making money off this.
Besides, if I did own it, it would still be running, Max would be the sidekick she should have been rather than crowding Bruce out (blame the writers, not the character!), Terry would have at least told his mother what he really did at night, and "Unmasked" and "April Moon" would never have existed. Oh, yeah, and Dana would have acted more like she did in "Lost Soul" and "Inqueling" instead of her pulling diva-fits whenever the writers decided Terry's life needed complications.
******************************************
Even Ace was moping. Every time the dog heard footsteps he would perk up, only to droop again when it turned out to be Barbara, Tim, or Max. Once or twice it had even been Clark. But for the past two weeks it hadn't ever been Terry. Bruce tried not to let himself think they might never see him again, but he also tried not to let himself think they would.
It seemed as though half the city was looking for Terry. The bulletin board at Kamalic's had become a combination missing person announcement/message board. The police were investigating, but that was a given. Dalrymple had organized his friends into a surreal recreation of the Baker Street Irregulars. Dana and Max had organized their friends as well. Tim had taken a leave of absence from his job and moved back to the manor; his wife and youngest daughter came to help on the weekends. The older one would have come as well, but she was in Edinburgh. The media had jumped on the story, plastering Terry's face over every vidscreen in Gotham. Even some of the Wayne-Powers employees had gone out searching. And of course Bruce had posted a reward.
The dark-haired girl hadn't been positively identified, despite Dalrymple's best efforts. He'd given a very detailed description of her, but she wasn't in the police files. Somehow he managed to get hold of a copy of the police sketch of her (Bruce suspected Barbara of that), made more copies, and distributed them among his friends. He reported to Bruce every night now, but the report was generally the same. Still, Dalrymple was convinced that a few of the people he'd talked to knew something but were unwilling to speak. He'd noted each one and informed Bruce that he intended to keep an eye on them.
Some of the reactions to Terry's disappearance had surprised Bruce. Mary McGinnis had given up without a fight; she was already talking about leaving Gotham before, as she put it, "this place takes Matt away, too." Dana, whom Bruce had almost written off as a spoiled princess, had turned out to have impressive organizational skills. Dalrymple was showing himself to be no slouch in that area as well and had a keen mind behind his eccentric manner. Howard Groote, of all people, had waltzed into Big Time's headquarters (and the fact that he found them at all made Bruce wonder) and demanded to know if he'd had anything to do with it. Big Time had denied it. Bruce believed him, if only because if he had been behind it he'd have been bragging about it to anyone who'd stay still long enough to listen. Tamara, the little psychic Terry had rescued from the Brain Trust, had sent a message through Barbara: Terry was alive and in Gotham but out of her reach, and she wasn't sure what that meant. Hopeful, but not helpful.
Other people hadn't surprised him at all. He'd expected Max and Tim to show up on his doorstep as soon as they heard, although he'd hadn't expected them to arrive at the same time. Barbara was taking it almost as a personal insult and had made sure her best people were on the case. Clark had waited a few days before flying in from Metropolis. It was his fault that Max now knew where the entrance to the Batcave was; she'd been the one to answer the door when the bell rang. He'd greeted her politely and gone straight to the clock, assuming that since she was there and she knew about Batman, she knew everything else too. Bruce hadn't bothered getting angry. For one thing, Clark had meant well, and for another, he'd always known it was only a matter of time anyway. Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, the girl had her uses.
Dick had called Tim to say he'd keep his eyes and ears open in Bludhaven. He hadn't said a word to or about Bruce.
Two weeks.
They'd checked Terry's enemies, of course. Nothing. Their reactions had been as varied as his friends had been, from Dr. Wheeler's open gloating to the Queen of the Royal Flush Gang's honest concern. Barbara had even questioned Spellbinder on the off chance he blamed Terry for that first time he'd been captured. She said he'd seemed shocked by the suggestion and claimed it had never occurred to him. They hadn't been able to find Stalker, but if he'd been responsible they'd have found the body.
There had been one small stroke of luck- with Halloween being only a few days away there were costume parties all over Gotham. Batman was a very popular costume. One or two of them had found trouble but had gotten themselves out of it and decided to let people think they were the real thing for whatever reason. Very few people knew it hadn't been the real Batman- either of them- and Bruce was glad of that.
There were sightings reported, of course; there always were. None of them panned out. Greed, cranks, and honest mistakes accounted for 95 percent of them. There had been two separate sightings of a black-haired boy being hauled into a van at gunpoint. One case had turned out to be a film crew shooting a scene with well-hidden cameras. The other had been a genuine kidnapping. That one hadn't had a happy ending either.
Bruce inevitably ended up in the Batcave, brooding. It had been a bad morning. Barbara had called him down to identify a John Doe whose mutilated body had been brought to the city morgue. The corpse was missing its head and hands- and also, Bruce had been relieved to see, a scar Terry had gotten when he'd fallen out of a tree as a child. It wasn't Terry; still, until he'd noticed that missing scar...
"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered.
"Shyeah, right."
Bruce looked up as Tim came down the stairs. Despite everything, Tim was looking better than he had in years. Getting the Joker out of his head- literally- once and for all had changed him dramatically. Much of the bitterness was gone, and Tim had realized that many of his problems had been caused by the Joker's continuing manipulation. Also, hearing that the Joker had described him with the same phrase he'd used to describe Harvey Bullock had stung Tim into getting back in shape.
"Barbara called," Tim continued. "She said you seemed pretty shaken up. It wasn't him, though."
"No."
"Bruce, he'll be okay. We'll find him."
"Will we? We're doing a wonderful job so far."
"You're starting to sound like Mary McGinnis."
Bruce glared. Tim didn't even blink.
"Bruce, I mean it. Don't make me want to smack you upside the head too. I really think we'll find him. Alive. That little psychic girl says he is, and from what I read in your case notes- yes, I read them- I don't think she'd screw up something like that."
"No. She's young, inexperienced, but her powers are pretty strong and she did manage to establish a strong link with Terry after just one brief meeting."
"Well, then?"
Bruce glared again.
"That's what I thought." Tim was silent for a few moments before he continued, "Were you this much of a pessimist when I disappeared?"
"...No."
"Is that why you're so broody now?"
"...Maybe."
"I know I've been having nightmares, if that's any help."
Bruce's head snapped around, but Tim held up a hand to forestall any comments.
"It's okay, I can deal with them now. I'm not a traumatized 15-year-old with a homicidal lunatic playing hide-and-seek in his subconscious anymore. Trust me on this," he finished dryly, shooting a look at his old costume. Bruce followed his glance, looked back at Tim, and while he didn't smile, he did look a little less grim.
"Yes, I can see that."
"And how well do your old costumes fit?"
Bruce had no intention of answering that, but the ringing of the phone saved him another glare. He was rather surprised to hear Dalrymple's voice so early in the day and was absolutely stunned when he heard what the old man had to report. By the time the call ended, though, he was looking positively ferocious and rapidly pulling up information on the computer.
"The girl's name is Tina Curtis. Her brother is Joe Curtis- also known as J-Man."
"...Oh my god."
"I can't believe they hid it this long. All that publicity- or maybe that's why they hid it. There's a difference between going after No Fun Boy and going after Bruce Wayne's personal assistant. The story was on the Web within a few hours of his bike being found; they must have panicked when they learned who he was."
"Wait a minute- No Fun Boy?"
"That's what the Jokerz call him.. He's actually proud of it."
"Well, duh. What do they call you?"
"Scary Old Guy."
"Figures. But why would they panic? -Oh, right. They probably figure you own the cops and could make them all disappear if you wanted to."
"I could. Easily. You know that."
"I also know you wouldn't. So you think they're holding him until the heat dies down?"
"Either that or they made sure he was in no shape to tell anyone what happened. They might even have tried to kill him and failed. I'm checking the hospitals for any John Does found in the past two weeks."
"Wouldn't someone have done that?"
"Yes. I'm doing it again."
The list was depressingly long at first, but more than half of them had eventually been identified and more than half of those left couldn't possibly have been Terry.
"I don't care how badly damaged his face is," Tim commented at one point," I don't think it's possible to mistake Terry for a 6'2" black guy."
"Bullock once thought Static was you."
"Yeah, well, I like to think I'm smarter than Bullock was."
Bruce just raised an eyebrow and continued working. It took less than half an hour to narrow the list down to four patients. All four were white males matching Terry's build and all four were estimated to be in their late teens to early twenties. Two were listed as having black hair, one as dark brown, and one as unknown. All four were victims of the Jokerz. Bruce scanned the list one last time and headed for the stairs, Tim falling into step beside him.
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To be continued
Besides, if I did own it, it would still be running, Max would be the sidekick she should have been rather than crowding Bruce out (blame the writers, not the character!), Terry would have at least told his mother what he really did at night, and "Unmasked" and "April Moon" would never have existed. Oh, yeah, and Dana would have acted more like she did in "Lost Soul" and "Inqueling" instead of her pulling diva-fits whenever the writers decided Terry's life needed complications.
******************************************
Even Ace was moping. Every time the dog heard footsteps he would perk up, only to droop again when it turned out to be Barbara, Tim, or Max. Once or twice it had even been Clark. But for the past two weeks it hadn't ever been Terry. Bruce tried not to let himself think they might never see him again, but he also tried not to let himself think they would.
It seemed as though half the city was looking for Terry. The bulletin board at Kamalic's had become a combination missing person announcement/message board. The police were investigating, but that was a given. Dalrymple had organized his friends into a surreal recreation of the Baker Street Irregulars. Dana and Max had organized their friends as well. Tim had taken a leave of absence from his job and moved back to the manor; his wife and youngest daughter came to help on the weekends. The older one would have come as well, but she was in Edinburgh. The media had jumped on the story, plastering Terry's face over every vidscreen in Gotham. Even some of the Wayne-Powers employees had gone out searching. And of course Bruce had posted a reward.
The dark-haired girl hadn't been positively identified, despite Dalrymple's best efforts. He'd given a very detailed description of her, but she wasn't in the police files. Somehow he managed to get hold of a copy of the police sketch of her (Bruce suspected Barbara of that), made more copies, and distributed them among his friends. He reported to Bruce every night now, but the report was generally the same. Still, Dalrymple was convinced that a few of the people he'd talked to knew something but were unwilling to speak. He'd noted each one and informed Bruce that he intended to keep an eye on them.
Some of the reactions to Terry's disappearance had surprised Bruce. Mary McGinnis had given up without a fight; she was already talking about leaving Gotham before, as she put it, "this place takes Matt away, too." Dana, whom Bruce had almost written off as a spoiled princess, had turned out to have impressive organizational skills. Dalrymple was showing himself to be no slouch in that area as well and had a keen mind behind his eccentric manner. Howard Groote, of all people, had waltzed into Big Time's headquarters (and the fact that he found them at all made Bruce wonder) and demanded to know if he'd had anything to do with it. Big Time had denied it. Bruce believed him, if only because if he had been behind it he'd have been bragging about it to anyone who'd stay still long enough to listen. Tamara, the little psychic Terry had rescued from the Brain Trust, had sent a message through Barbara: Terry was alive and in Gotham but out of her reach, and she wasn't sure what that meant. Hopeful, but not helpful.
Other people hadn't surprised him at all. He'd expected Max and Tim to show up on his doorstep as soon as they heard, although he'd hadn't expected them to arrive at the same time. Barbara was taking it almost as a personal insult and had made sure her best people were on the case. Clark had waited a few days before flying in from Metropolis. It was his fault that Max now knew where the entrance to the Batcave was; she'd been the one to answer the door when the bell rang. He'd greeted her politely and gone straight to the clock, assuming that since she was there and she knew about Batman, she knew everything else too. Bruce hadn't bothered getting angry. For one thing, Clark had meant well, and for another, he'd always known it was only a matter of time anyway. Besides, as much as he hated to admit it, the girl had her uses.
Dick had called Tim to say he'd keep his eyes and ears open in Bludhaven. He hadn't said a word to or about Bruce.
Two weeks.
They'd checked Terry's enemies, of course. Nothing. Their reactions had been as varied as his friends had been, from Dr. Wheeler's open gloating to the Queen of the Royal Flush Gang's honest concern. Barbara had even questioned Spellbinder on the off chance he blamed Terry for that first time he'd been captured. She said he'd seemed shocked by the suggestion and claimed it had never occurred to him. They hadn't been able to find Stalker, but if he'd been responsible they'd have found the body.
There had been one small stroke of luck- with Halloween being only a few days away there were costume parties all over Gotham. Batman was a very popular costume. One or two of them had found trouble but had gotten themselves out of it and decided to let people think they were the real thing for whatever reason. Very few people knew it hadn't been the real Batman- either of them- and Bruce was glad of that.
There were sightings reported, of course; there always were. None of them panned out. Greed, cranks, and honest mistakes accounted for 95 percent of them. There had been two separate sightings of a black-haired boy being hauled into a van at gunpoint. One case had turned out to be a film crew shooting a scene with well-hidden cameras. The other had been a genuine kidnapping. That one hadn't had a happy ending either.
Bruce inevitably ended up in the Batcave, brooding. It had been a bad morning. Barbara had called him down to identify a John Doe whose mutilated body had been brought to the city morgue. The corpse was missing its head and hands- and also, Bruce had been relieved to see, a scar Terry had gotten when he'd fallen out of a tree as a child. It wasn't Terry; still, until he'd noticed that missing scar...
"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered.
"Shyeah, right."
Bruce looked up as Tim came down the stairs. Despite everything, Tim was looking better than he had in years. Getting the Joker out of his head- literally- once and for all had changed him dramatically. Much of the bitterness was gone, and Tim had realized that many of his problems had been caused by the Joker's continuing manipulation. Also, hearing that the Joker had described him with the same phrase he'd used to describe Harvey Bullock had stung Tim into getting back in shape.
"Barbara called," Tim continued. "She said you seemed pretty shaken up. It wasn't him, though."
"No."
"Bruce, he'll be okay. We'll find him."
"Will we? We're doing a wonderful job so far."
"You're starting to sound like Mary McGinnis."
Bruce glared. Tim didn't even blink.
"Bruce, I mean it. Don't make me want to smack you upside the head too. I really think we'll find him. Alive. That little psychic girl says he is, and from what I read in your case notes- yes, I read them- I don't think she'd screw up something like that."
"No. She's young, inexperienced, but her powers are pretty strong and she did manage to establish a strong link with Terry after just one brief meeting."
"Well, then?"
Bruce glared again.
"That's what I thought." Tim was silent for a few moments before he continued, "Were you this much of a pessimist when I disappeared?"
"...No."
"Is that why you're so broody now?"
"...Maybe."
"I know I've been having nightmares, if that's any help."
Bruce's head snapped around, but Tim held up a hand to forestall any comments.
"It's okay, I can deal with them now. I'm not a traumatized 15-year-old with a homicidal lunatic playing hide-and-seek in his subconscious anymore. Trust me on this," he finished dryly, shooting a look at his old costume. Bruce followed his glance, looked back at Tim, and while he didn't smile, he did look a little less grim.
"Yes, I can see that."
"And how well do your old costumes fit?"
Bruce had no intention of answering that, but the ringing of the phone saved him another glare. He was rather surprised to hear Dalrymple's voice so early in the day and was absolutely stunned when he heard what the old man had to report. By the time the call ended, though, he was looking positively ferocious and rapidly pulling up information on the computer.
"The girl's name is Tina Curtis. Her brother is Joe Curtis- also known as J-Man."
"...Oh my god."
"I can't believe they hid it this long. All that publicity- or maybe that's why they hid it. There's a difference between going after No Fun Boy and going after Bruce Wayne's personal assistant. The story was on the Web within a few hours of his bike being found; they must have panicked when they learned who he was."
"Wait a minute- No Fun Boy?"
"That's what the Jokerz call him.. He's actually proud of it."
"Well, duh. What do they call you?"
"Scary Old Guy."
"Figures. But why would they panic? -Oh, right. They probably figure you own the cops and could make them all disappear if you wanted to."
"I could. Easily. You know that."
"I also know you wouldn't. So you think they're holding him until the heat dies down?"
"Either that or they made sure he was in no shape to tell anyone what happened. They might even have tried to kill him and failed. I'm checking the hospitals for any John Does found in the past two weeks."
"Wouldn't someone have done that?"
"Yes. I'm doing it again."
The list was depressingly long at first, but more than half of them had eventually been identified and more than half of those left couldn't possibly have been Terry.
"I don't care how badly damaged his face is," Tim commented at one point," I don't think it's possible to mistake Terry for a 6'2" black guy."
"Bullock once thought Static was you."
"Yeah, well, I like to think I'm smarter than Bullock was."
Bruce just raised an eyebrow and continued working. It took less than half an hour to narrow the list down to four patients. All four were white males matching Terry's build and all four were estimated to be in their late teens to early twenties. Two were listed as having black hair, one as dark brown, and one as unknown. All four were victims of the Jokerz. Bruce scanned the list one last time and headed for the stairs, Tim falling into step beside him.
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To be continued
