No, this story isn't even close to being finished. Finding him is just the beginning...
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Did she mean that the way it sounded? Bruce wondered.
"Are you the doctor in charge?" she continued. "I hope not- I'd hate to think my son spent the last two weeks in the care of a woman with the bedside manner of Torquemada!"
Now Barbara was definitely grinning again. Bruce was rather pleased himself. Mary was obviously through moping and Dr. Miller was about to learn what he'd learned the first time Terry had been injured on the job: don't mess with Mary McGinnis' maternal instincts.
"I'm not in charge of this particular patient, but-"
"Then call whoever is. I want to know exactly what's wrong."
"He's in a coma-"
"Thank you, Captain Obvious!"
Barbara and Ms. Maguire were suddenly hit by coughing fits. Dr. Miller gave them a sour look as she turned to leave.
"I'll send Dr. Tikkainen as soon as he's available. It may be a while. Maguire, don't you have other duties?"
"Not at the moment, Doctor. I'm to keep watch on the patient in case he shows signs of waking. Orders from Himself."
Dr. Miller snorted and stalked out. There was a moment of silence.
"Born a virgin, that one, as my gran used to say," Ms. Maguire muttered. Bruce almost smiled. Barbara snickered. Tim, who'd been waiting for Miller to leave, paused in the door with Matt.
"Now there's a line to walk in on." He glanced at Mary. "Uh- is it safe yet?"
Matt nodded.
"Mom scared her away. She's good at that."
"Matt!" Mary blushed. "Mr. Drake, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. My youngest isn't overloaded with tact either. And she's Terry's age, so she doesn't have the excuse of being too young to know better."
"Hey!"
Matt pouted, Tim ruffled his hair, and Matt batted his hand away, laughing for a second. Only for a second, though, because a guilty expression crossed his face when he glanced at Terry lying motionless in his bed.
"Sorry, Mom, " he said in a small voice.
"Oh, honey," Mary knelt beside him, not quite hugging him. "It's okay. Do you think Mr. Drake would have teased you if it wasn't? For that matter, do you think Mr. Wayne or Commissioner Gordon would have let him? Or me? It doesn't mean you aren't worried, it's just..."
"Blowing off steam," Barbara said gently. "Cops do it all the time. Even Batman does it; I've heard him."
"Wow.... you met Batman... Hey, I met Batman. He's schway, isn't he? I'll bet he'll find all those Jokerz and beat 'em as bad as they did Terry!"
"Here's hoping, kid," Barbara replied as she, Tim, and Bruce avoided each others' eyes. An uncomfortable silence reigned; it was Tim who broke it.
"So, Matt, you met Batman. What was that like?"
It was just what they needed. Matt launched into a highly colorful and wildly inaccurate account of how Batman had rescued him from a "giant mutant tattoo guy who was being chased by demons". The look Mary gave Tim was grateful; the look Tim gave Bruce said very clearly he wanted to hear the rest of the story later. Barbara, who already knew it, had a hard time keeping a straight face during some of the more elaborate exaggerations.
"-and then the demons chased him in front of a train and I thought he was dead until I saw him a few nights ago."
"What? Where?" all five adults demanded.
"In Terry's room."
The silence this time was more stunned than uncomfortable, and it was Barbara who broke it.
"Matt, why was Stalker in Terry's room?"
"He was hunting Terry. I asked him why and he said he was gonna save his life or avenge his death. He said Terry was his prey and noone was gonna steal him." Matt snorted. "And he told me not to be dramatic. And he started asking me questions and I wasn't gonna answer but he said it wouldn't be time to hunt Terry for a few years so I thought maybe he could help 'cause he's this big hunter and all and I told him everything and then he said you should have named me Calvin and I asked why and he wouldn't say and then he left and when I got home the next day there was a stuffed tiger on my bed and- why are you laughing?"
Bruce was the only one even close to keeping a straight face.
"I can see a certain resemblance," Tim chuckled.
"Bruce, remember when Dick replaced your screen saver with-" Barbara couldn't finish.
"I remember. I also remember you replacing it with those three mutant puppies or whatever they were-"
"The Warner Brothers- and the Warner Sister."
"You'd like her if you kissed her," Tim sang under his breath. Barbara smacked him on the arm; Bruce glared.
"And you replaced all the .wav files with Pokemon noises. Do you have any idea how hard it is to write reports with the Jigglypuff song stuck in your head? At least Terry only threatened to link my e-mail to the Hampster Dance!"
A respectful murmur worked its way around the room.
"He wins," Barbara and Tim chorused.
"The Hampster Dance? Haven't heard that one for a while," a new voice commented. They turned to the doorway, where the voice had come from. The owner stood there, smiling. He was a middle-aged man, slightly taller than Bruce but thin almost to the point of skinniness, with a shock of mouse-brown hair, friendly green eyes, and a beaky nose.
"Dr. Tikkainen!" Ms. Maguire exclaimed. "Our Johnny has a family, though I'm thinking the dynamics may take some explaining."
"I got that impression from Lady Millstone- oops." He blushed, shooting them an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, that was very unprofessional of me."
"That's all right," Mary assured him, standing up. "I'm Mary McGinnis, Terry's mother. This is my other son, Matt; Commisioner Gordon; Terry's boss, Bruce Wayne; and their friend, Tim Drake. You're Terry's doctor?"
"Uh... yes, I guess I am. You say his name is Ter-" he broke off, looking at the group again, comprehension filing his eyes. "Good God, light dawns on Marblehead. The missing boy who's been all over the Web. Oh, dear."
"Noone's blaming you for not recognising him," Bruce said. Mary agreed.
"Of course not- he's... not really looking his best right now and he really doesn't look much like the pictures they've been showing. I'm not sure I'd have recognised him myself, to be honest."
"I think you're selling yourself short, but thank you. Anyway, now that you're here, I need to discuss his case with you- uh, that is, the family- I mean...."
He trailed off, clearly trying to figure out which ones he should be telling what. After some silent communication, Tim turned to Matt.
"Hey, kid, I know some good Batman stories, including some he'd like to forget about. Interested?"
He didn't need to ask twice. The others,with a parting look at Terry, followed Dr. Tikkainen to his office. Once everyone was seated, he began.
"I want to start by assuring you that there was no sign of sexual assault. They seemed to be content with merely trying to beat him to death. They failed. However, as you saw, they did manage to inflict a great deal of damage. I can give you a full list of his injuries, but I'd rather spare you. We've dealt with everything that can be dealt with; time, rest, and eventually physical therapy will take care of what's left. He does have any number of cracked, fractured, or just plain broken bones, but most of them are relatively minor and should heal without any complications. You'll just need to be careful for a few more weeks."
"What about the coma? When will he wake up?" Mary asked.
"I wish I could tell you. He could wake up tonight, next month, or- and this is highly unlikely but it's my duty to say it- not at all. This coma is the result of a fractured skull; there was some swelling and we did have to operate. He seems to be recovering all right, but despite all of our medical advances in the last hundred years or so, when it comes to head injuries we still don't know jack. The best I can tell you is that the odds are in his favor. He's young, healthy- uh, generally speaking, that is- and he was obviously in excellent physical condition before the attack. If this lasts longer than another month, and that's my most pessimistic estimate, I'll be surprised. Of course, there could be some lingering side effects- amnesia, altered personality, that sort of thing, but we won't know until he wakes up. And there's one other major problem, I'm afraid." He picked up a carved wooden platypus and fidgeted with it uncomfortably, avoiding their gaze as he gathered his thoughts. When he finally looked up, his eyes blazed with a Bat-like determination. "There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it: his back was broken in three places. While there is no sign of spinal damage, which is a bloody miracle, it'll be a long time before he's back on his feet again, let alone walking unassisted. It's going to take a long time and it'll feel even longer than it is but he will walk again or I'll tear up my damn diploma. All of 'em."
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To be... oh, you know....
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Did she mean that the way it sounded? Bruce wondered.
"Are you the doctor in charge?" she continued. "I hope not- I'd hate to think my son spent the last two weeks in the care of a woman with the bedside manner of Torquemada!"
Now Barbara was definitely grinning again. Bruce was rather pleased himself. Mary was obviously through moping and Dr. Miller was about to learn what he'd learned the first time Terry had been injured on the job: don't mess with Mary McGinnis' maternal instincts.
"I'm not in charge of this particular patient, but-"
"Then call whoever is. I want to know exactly what's wrong."
"He's in a coma-"
"Thank you, Captain Obvious!"
Barbara and Ms. Maguire were suddenly hit by coughing fits. Dr. Miller gave them a sour look as she turned to leave.
"I'll send Dr. Tikkainen as soon as he's available. It may be a while. Maguire, don't you have other duties?"
"Not at the moment, Doctor. I'm to keep watch on the patient in case he shows signs of waking. Orders from Himself."
Dr. Miller snorted and stalked out. There was a moment of silence.
"Born a virgin, that one, as my gran used to say," Ms. Maguire muttered. Bruce almost smiled. Barbara snickered. Tim, who'd been waiting for Miller to leave, paused in the door with Matt.
"Now there's a line to walk in on." He glanced at Mary. "Uh- is it safe yet?"
Matt nodded.
"Mom scared her away. She's good at that."
"Matt!" Mary blushed. "Mr. Drake, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. My youngest isn't overloaded with tact either. And she's Terry's age, so she doesn't have the excuse of being too young to know better."
"Hey!"
Matt pouted, Tim ruffled his hair, and Matt batted his hand away, laughing for a second. Only for a second, though, because a guilty expression crossed his face when he glanced at Terry lying motionless in his bed.
"Sorry, Mom, " he said in a small voice.
"Oh, honey," Mary knelt beside him, not quite hugging him. "It's okay. Do you think Mr. Drake would have teased you if it wasn't? For that matter, do you think Mr. Wayne or Commissioner Gordon would have let him? Or me? It doesn't mean you aren't worried, it's just..."
"Blowing off steam," Barbara said gently. "Cops do it all the time. Even Batman does it; I've heard him."
"Wow.... you met Batman... Hey, I met Batman. He's schway, isn't he? I'll bet he'll find all those Jokerz and beat 'em as bad as they did Terry!"
"Here's hoping, kid," Barbara replied as she, Tim, and Bruce avoided each others' eyes. An uncomfortable silence reigned; it was Tim who broke it.
"So, Matt, you met Batman. What was that like?"
It was just what they needed. Matt launched into a highly colorful and wildly inaccurate account of how Batman had rescued him from a "giant mutant tattoo guy who was being chased by demons". The look Mary gave Tim was grateful; the look Tim gave Bruce said very clearly he wanted to hear the rest of the story later. Barbara, who already knew it, had a hard time keeping a straight face during some of the more elaborate exaggerations.
"-and then the demons chased him in front of a train and I thought he was dead until I saw him a few nights ago."
"What? Where?" all five adults demanded.
"In Terry's room."
The silence this time was more stunned than uncomfortable, and it was Barbara who broke it.
"Matt, why was Stalker in Terry's room?"
"He was hunting Terry. I asked him why and he said he was gonna save his life or avenge his death. He said Terry was his prey and noone was gonna steal him." Matt snorted. "And he told me not to be dramatic. And he started asking me questions and I wasn't gonna answer but he said it wouldn't be time to hunt Terry for a few years so I thought maybe he could help 'cause he's this big hunter and all and I told him everything and then he said you should have named me Calvin and I asked why and he wouldn't say and then he left and when I got home the next day there was a stuffed tiger on my bed and- why are you laughing?"
Bruce was the only one even close to keeping a straight face.
"I can see a certain resemblance," Tim chuckled.
"Bruce, remember when Dick replaced your screen saver with-" Barbara couldn't finish.
"I remember. I also remember you replacing it with those three mutant puppies or whatever they were-"
"The Warner Brothers- and the Warner Sister."
"You'd like her if you kissed her," Tim sang under his breath. Barbara smacked him on the arm; Bruce glared.
"And you replaced all the .wav files with Pokemon noises. Do you have any idea how hard it is to write reports with the Jigglypuff song stuck in your head? At least Terry only threatened to link my e-mail to the Hampster Dance!"
A respectful murmur worked its way around the room.
"He wins," Barbara and Tim chorused.
"The Hampster Dance? Haven't heard that one for a while," a new voice commented. They turned to the doorway, where the voice had come from. The owner stood there, smiling. He was a middle-aged man, slightly taller than Bruce but thin almost to the point of skinniness, with a shock of mouse-brown hair, friendly green eyes, and a beaky nose.
"Dr. Tikkainen!" Ms. Maguire exclaimed. "Our Johnny has a family, though I'm thinking the dynamics may take some explaining."
"I got that impression from Lady Millstone- oops." He blushed, shooting them an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, that was very unprofessional of me."
"That's all right," Mary assured him, standing up. "I'm Mary McGinnis, Terry's mother. This is my other son, Matt; Commisioner Gordon; Terry's boss, Bruce Wayne; and their friend, Tim Drake. You're Terry's doctor?"
"Uh... yes, I guess I am. You say his name is Ter-" he broke off, looking at the group again, comprehension filing his eyes. "Good God, light dawns on Marblehead. The missing boy who's been all over the Web. Oh, dear."
"Noone's blaming you for not recognising him," Bruce said. Mary agreed.
"Of course not- he's... not really looking his best right now and he really doesn't look much like the pictures they've been showing. I'm not sure I'd have recognised him myself, to be honest."
"I think you're selling yourself short, but thank you. Anyway, now that you're here, I need to discuss his case with you- uh, that is, the family- I mean...."
He trailed off, clearly trying to figure out which ones he should be telling what. After some silent communication, Tim turned to Matt.
"Hey, kid, I know some good Batman stories, including some he'd like to forget about. Interested?"
He didn't need to ask twice. The others,with a parting look at Terry, followed Dr. Tikkainen to his office. Once everyone was seated, he began.
"I want to start by assuring you that there was no sign of sexual assault. They seemed to be content with merely trying to beat him to death. They failed. However, as you saw, they did manage to inflict a great deal of damage. I can give you a full list of his injuries, but I'd rather spare you. We've dealt with everything that can be dealt with; time, rest, and eventually physical therapy will take care of what's left. He does have any number of cracked, fractured, or just plain broken bones, but most of them are relatively minor and should heal without any complications. You'll just need to be careful for a few more weeks."
"What about the coma? When will he wake up?" Mary asked.
"I wish I could tell you. He could wake up tonight, next month, or- and this is highly unlikely but it's my duty to say it- not at all. This coma is the result of a fractured skull; there was some swelling and we did have to operate. He seems to be recovering all right, but despite all of our medical advances in the last hundred years or so, when it comes to head injuries we still don't know jack. The best I can tell you is that the odds are in his favor. He's young, healthy- uh, generally speaking, that is- and he was obviously in excellent physical condition before the attack. If this lasts longer than another month, and that's my most pessimistic estimate, I'll be surprised. Of course, there could be some lingering side effects- amnesia, altered personality, that sort of thing, but we won't know until he wakes up. And there's one other major problem, I'm afraid." He picked up a carved wooden platypus and fidgeted with it uncomfortably, avoiding their gaze as he gathered his thoughts. When he finally looked up, his eyes blazed with a Bat-like determination. "There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it: his back was broken in three places. While there is no sign of spinal damage, which is a bloody miracle, it'll be a long time before he's back on his feet again, let alone walking unassisted. It's going to take a long time and it'll feel even longer than it is but he will walk again or I'll tear up my damn diploma. All of 'em."
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To be... oh, you know....