Good news- I was able to do some writing last night, so there's another chapter ready after this one.
********************************************
The old trout didn't sit down or take Terry's hand. Instead, she glared at him malevolently.
"You had to turn up, didn't you? I thought we'd finally seen the last of you, but then, you always were a disappointment. You couldn't even die properly, could you? If what that idiot doctor says is true, you'll be back to your old tricks in a few months. You are a disgrace to the family and you'll never be anything else. And I don't know what your mother was thinking, letting you work for the likes of Bruce Wayne- but that's just like you, cozying up to a rich old man, not caring what you have to do to get your hands on his money. I've heard the stories; I know all about him. It's disgusting what men like him get away with just because they're rich and powerful."
Harley tuned out the rest of the diatribe, trying to think of the best way to handle this. A few ideas immediately popped into her mind; she sternly reminded herself she'd given up that sort of thing decades ago. Still, this woman was tempting her to make a comeback.
The old trout was wrapping up, she realized. Maybe if she followed her... no. That wouldn't work. She wasn't as young as she used to be- duh, Harley!- and trailing someone without being noticed was hard work. Besides, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out who she was. All Harley had to do was get her hands on the list of authorized visitors. After that it was just a process of elimination. She'd get the DeeDees to help.
Suddenly she realized the old trout was gone. Harley had been sitting and brooding in the closet for no good reason for at least 5 minutes.
"Ah, nuts. What's the point of displaying improved moral fiber if they escape anyway?"
**********************************************
Dick Grayson sat, just looking at Terry. He'd made a point of coming when Bruce couldn't possibly show up. Not because he was avoiding Bruce, but because he wanted a chance to see a few things for himself. Admittedly, he hadn't seen or spoken to Bruce since just after he'd heard about the new Batman. He couldn't honestly say he'd spoken to Bruce then, either. Ranted and raved, perhaps, but not spoken. When he'd heard about Shriek's holding the city hostage it had been all he could do not to call and say "I told you so". He had watched the live coverage of the search for Batman's body, however, and had been relieved when the kid turned up alive. In fact, he'd been proud of the kid for the way he'd handled himself- not just then, but many times. He may not approve of Bruce throwing the kid in the line of fire, but he had to admit the kid was good. Damn good. Annoyingly good. He could see Bruce's influence, but the kid had obviously had his own style even before he got the suit. Dick remembered how often he'd complained- okay, whined- that Bruce wouldn't let him be his own man. Maybe it was because Terry had been older when he'd met Bruce, but the problem didn't seem to be cropping up as much. Of course, Barbara had told him about some pretty impressive shouting matches between the two, so it wasn't all roses. On the other hand, the fact that they happened at all was a good sign; it meant Bruce cared. If he didn't, he wouldn't bother yelling.
Dick was rather surprised that Bruce had let himself get attached again, considering his track record. While the Old Man hadn't allowed himself another Robin, he'd taken in three more wards after Tim. Each one had died- one in a plane crash, one of leukemia, and one, of all things, in a tornado. After that, Bruce had refused to get involved in the lives of any more young men. In fact, that was when he'd started to withdraw from his social rounds. It got worse when Alfred died, worse still after the first heart attack, and by the time he lost the company he'd pretty much become a hermit.
"Why you, kid? Even Babs can't figure it out. Not that I have anything against you, despite what I said to Bruce that time- which I was completely wrong about, but don't tell him I said that, and I'm babbling. Still- why? Out of the millions of hard-luck kids in the world, he chose you- years after he said "never again". I'm glad you changed his mind; I just wish I knew how you did it." Dick smiled. "I mean it, McGinnis. Bruce and I may have our problems- lots of problems- but I've hated the way he just seemed to be waiting to die until you came along. The pictures I've seen of him lately, until this happened, anyway, he's been looking years younger and I don't think it has anything to do with that dip in the Lazarus Pit. Yeah, Babs told me about that. She thinks the lingering effects from that are what saved Bruce from the Joker's attack. With his heart condition, he should have been dead long before you got there. I hate to think we owe the Hairdo- Ra's- anything, though."
He stood and paced, trying to figure out how to say what he meant, not realising how much he resembled Bruce in that respect. After a while he sat again.
"Listen, kid, I know I should have given you this spiel a long time ago, but I didn't, and that's my own fault for being as much of a pigheaded idiot as the Old Man. So here it is now: if you're going to do the whole spandex-and-kevlar thing, you couldn't have a better teacher. Okay, yeah, he's bad-tempered, overbearing, and a control freak, but he'll keep you alive. You'll have to worry about staying sane yourself, though, 'cause that's not his strong suit. ...That didn't come out right. What I mean is he's not too good at dealing with emotions. He understands the theory, but in practice..." Dick shook his head. "It's easy to let him convince you he doesn't care, but believe me, he does. Babs said he tried to fire you when the Joker came back, which pretty much proves it. He may try again when you're back on your feet; don't let him. I may not understand what it is with you two, but I can tell you need each other. And even if I never get up the nerve to see him again, I need to know he's got someone looking after him like Babs says you do."
*******************************************
"Jeez, he's just a kid!"
"He's older than you were when you started, and you didn't have the big guy looking over your shoulder."
"Yeah, but-"
"And he already knew how to fight."
"Shut up," Virgil Hawkins muttered, ignoring his friend's victory cackle. Looking again at Terry, he shook his head. It just wasn't right, Batman getting taken out by Jokerz. He wondered how many there had been. Rich Foley cocked his head; Virgil had said that last aloud without realising it.
"How many what?"
"Jokerz. No way Bruce would've let him work that gig if he couldn't handle himself. He had to be seriously outnumbered."
"Yeah. I wonder if I could-"
"One thing at a time, Brain Boy."
Maybe later, then."
Rich turned his attention to the monitors; Virgil could see him almost twitching with the desire to take them apart and improve them.
"Sit in the corner, Richie."
He sat, but not in the corner. Instead he grabbed the chair by the windows- the one furthest away from the source of his temptation. Virgil sat by Terry's bed.
The years had been kind to Virgil, less so to Rich. Virgil had only recently retired from full-time superheroing; Rich had been forced to retire 15 years earlier when he'd developed asthma as the result of a training accident with a fledgling metahuman. The girl who'd caused the accident had been very fragile emotionally so Rich had put on the performance of a lifetime and convinced her he'd been looking for an excuse to retire to spend more time in the lab. Only Virgil knew how hard it had really been on his best friend.
"Hey, at least I've still got my looks," Rich said, knowing what his long-time partner was thinking.
"What looks?"
"Some things never change."
The two men jumped to their feet as Bruce entered the room with Dr. Tikkainen and Mary. Hurried introductions were made, then Rich explained his latest invention.
"What this does, basically, is measure his brain waves, heart rate, and a couple dozen other factors, compare them with his usual condition- which we know thanks to the records you gave us- convert that into an equation, and try to solve it. The solution should be the length of his... condition. It's competely non-invasive and it won't interfere with the monitors that are already in place. We ready?"
"May I take a look at it first?" Mary asked. Rich nodded, not bothering to tell her to be careful. She was hardly going to take a chance on screwing up the machine that would tell her when she'd be getting her son back. Mary studied it, frowning in concentration. "Interesting. Why a Jennings loop? I'd have thought a Nigma cross would have been more efficient."
Rich and Virgil gaped at her. Bruce almost smiled.
"Perhaps you didn't know Mary is an inventor in her own right. In fact, I see you've incorporated some of her work in your device."
"You're that Mary McGinnis?" Rich gasped. "Ohmigodohmigodohmigod- I don't believe this! Virgil, this is the McGinnis Solution I've told you about at least a million times! And I'm here in the same room as-"
"Richie- breathe. Now answer the nice lady's question before she decides you're completely insane instead of just halfway nuts."
"Oh. Right. Well, the Jennings loop actually works better when you want something for fine details. The Nigma cross is faster, but not quite as accurate."
"True." Mary handed the machine back to Rich. " Well, I'm ready, as long as Dr. Tikkainen has no objections."
"None. I'm hoping the device works, too."
Rich looked over at Bruce, who nodded. Within seconds he had the necessary sensors attached and the machine was humming the Moonlight Sonata. Everyone looked at Rich, who blushed.
"It seems to have a thing for classical music. I swear I didn't program that in. It has a theoretically low-grade AI in there and when she isn't performing her primary function she seems to be developing her personality. Thing is, it actually seems to make it run smoother, so I haven't messed with it."
Virgil sighed as Bruce raised an eyebrow; they were definitely going to be hearing about this later. Mary seemed as intrigued as she was hopeful, though Dr. Tikkainen looked dubious.
A soft fanfare announced that the machine was finished. Rich checked the display as the others tensed. Finally he sat back with a smile.
"Worked better than I hoped. She says Terry will wake up, and that'll happen in about two-and-a-half to three weeks. However, she exceeded her programming by predicting some probable side effects. They're the usual complications from something like this, but she's put probabilities on each one with a warning that due to the lack of understanding of the exact workings of the human brain she wouldn't guarantee any of them occurring- or not occurring. Ruko also says that with hard work and the proper regimen Terry has a 96.947 percent chance of walking again and a 94.388 percent chance of complete recovery. I think-"
Rich suddenly found himself with an armful of Mary McGinnis, being kissed passionately. Virgil slipped over to Bruce's side, relieved to see the Old Man looking a lot less old suddenly.
"You okay?" he asked softly. Bruce just nodded, but Virgil saw the joyous smile in his eyes- the smile Bruce would never allow himself to display openly. Virgil didn't say anything more, just enjoyed the moment.
**************************************************
More to come, I promise.
********************************************
The old trout didn't sit down or take Terry's hand. Instead, she glared at him malevolently.
"You had to turn up, didn't you? I thought we'd finally seen the last of you, but then, you always were a disappointment. You couldn't even die properly, could you? If what that idiot doctor says is true, you'll be back to your old tricks in a few months. You are a disgrace to the family and you'll never be anything else. And I don't know what your mother was thinking, letting you work for the likes of Bruce Wayne- but that's just like you, cozying up to a rich old man, not caring what you have to do to get your hands on his money. I've heard the stories; I know all about him. It's disgusting what men like him get away with just because they're rich and powerful."
Harley tuned out the rest of the diatribe, trying to think of the best way to handle this. A few ideas immediately popped into her mind; she sternly reminded herself she'd given up that sort of thing decades ago. Still, this woman was tempting her to make a comeback.
The old trout was wrapping up, she realized. Maybe if she followed her... no. That wouldn't work. She wasn't as young as she used to be- duh, Harley!- and trailing someone without being noticed was hard work. Besides, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out who she was. All Harley had to do was get her hands on the list of authorized visitors. After that it was just a process of elimination. She'd get the DeeDees to help.
Suddenly she realized the old trout was gone. Harley had been sitting and brooding in the closet for no good reason for at least 5 minutes.
"Ah, nuts. What's the point of displaying improved moral fiber if they escape anyway?"
**********************************************
Dick Grayson sat, just looking at Terry. He'd made a point of coming when Bruce couldn't possibly show up. Not because he was avoiding Bruce, but because he wanted a chance to see a few things for himself. Admittedly, he hadn't seen or spoken to Bruce since just after he'd heard about the new Batman. He couldn't honestly say he'd spoken to Bruce then, either. Ranted and raved, perhaps, but not spoken. When he'd heard about Shriek's holding the city hostage it had been all he could do not to call and say "I told you so". He had watched the live coverage of the search for Batman's body, however, and had been relieved when the kid turned up alive. In fact, he'd been proud of the kid for the way he'd handled himself- not just then, but many times. He may not approve of Bruce throwing the kid in the line of fire, but he had to admit the kid was good. Damn good. Annoyingly good. He could see Bruce's influence, but the kid had obviously had his own style even before he got the suit. Dick remembered how often he'd complained- okay, whined- that Bruce wouldn't let him be his own man. Maybe it was because Terry had been older when he'd met Bruce, but the problem didn't seem to be cropping up as much. Of course, Barbara had told him about some pretty impressive shouting matches between the two, so it wasn't all roses. On the other hand, the fact that they happened at all was a good sign; it meant Bruce cared. If he didn't, he wouldn't bother yelling.
Dick was rather surprised that Bruce had let himself get attached again, considering his track record. While the Old Man hadn't allowed himself another Robin, he'd taken in three more wards after Tim. Each one had died- one in a plane crash, one of leukemia, and one, of all things, in a tornado. After that, Bruce had refused to get involved in the lives of any more young men. In fact, that was when he'd started to withdraw from his social rounds. It got worse when Alfred died, worse still after the first heart attack, and by the time he lost the company he'd pretty much become a hermit.
"Why you, kid? Even Babs can't figure it out. Not that I have anything against you, despite what I said to Bruce that time- which I was completely wrong about, but don't tell him I said that, and I'm babbling. Still- why? Out of the millions of hard-luck kids in the world, he chose you- years after he said "never again". I'm glad you changed his mind; I just wish I knew how you did it." Dick smiled. "I mean it, McGinnis. Bruce and I may have our problems- lots of problems- but I've hated the way he just seemed to be waiting to die until you came along. The pictures I've seen of him lately, until this happened, anyway, he's been looking years younger and I don't think it has anything to do with that dip in the Lazarus Pit. Yeah, Babs told me about that. She thinks the lingering effects from that are what saved Bruce from the Joker's attack. With his heart condition, he should have been dead long before you got there. I hate to think we owe the Hairdo- Ra's- anything, though."
He stood and paced, trying to figure out how to say what he meant, not realising how much he resembled Bruce in that respect. After a while he sat again.
"Listen, kid, I know I should have given you this spiel a long time ago, but I didn't, and that's my own fault for being as much of a pigheaded idiot as the Old Man. So here it is now: if you're going to do the whole spandex-and-kevlar thing, you couldn't have a better teacher. Okay, yeah, he's bad-tempered, overbearing, and a control freak, but he'll keep you alive. You'll have to worry about staying sane yourself, though, 'cause that's not his strong suit. ...That didn't come out right. What I mean is he's not too good at dealing with emotions. He understands the theory, but in practice..." Dick shook his head. "It's easy to let him convince you he doesn't care, but believe me, he does. Babs said he tried to fire you when the Joker came back, which pretty much proves it. He may try again when you're back on your feet; don't let him. I may not understand what it is with you two, but I can tell you need each other. And even if I never get up the nerve to see him again, I need to know he's got someone looking after him like Babs says you do."
*******************************************
"Jeez, he's just a kid!"
"He's older than you were when you started, and you didn't have the big guy looking over your shoulder."
"Yeah, but-"
"And he already knew how to fight."
"Shut up," Virgil Hawkins muttered, ignoring his friend's victory cackle. Looking again at Terry, he shook his head. It just wasn't right, Batman getting taken out by Jokerz. He wondered how many there had been. Rich Foley cocked his head; Virgil had said that last aloud without realising it.
"How many what?"
"Jokerz. No way Bruce would've let him work that gig if he couldn't handle himself. He had to be seriously outnumbered."
"Yeah. I wonder if I could-"
"One thing at a time, Brain Boy."
Maybe later, then."
Rich turned his attention to the monitors; Virgil could see him almost twitching with the desire to take them apart and improve them.
"Sit in the corner, Richie."
He sat, but not in the corner. Instead he grabbed the chair by the windows- the one furthest away from the source of his temptation. Virgil sat by Terry's bed.
The years had been kind to Virgil, less so to Rich. Virgil had only recently retired from full-time superheroing; Rich had been forced to retire 15 years earlier when he'd developed asthma as the result of a training accident with a fledgling metahuman. The girl who'd caused the accident had been very fragile emotionally so Rich had put on the performance of a lifetime and convinced her he'd been looking for an excuse to retire to spend more time in the lab. Only Virgil knew how hard it had really been on his best friend.
"Hey, at least I've still got my looks," Rich said, knowing what his long-time partner was thinking.
"What looks?"
"Some things never change."
The two men jumped to their feet as Bruce entered the room with Dr. Tikkainen and Mary. Hurried introductions were made, then Rich explained his latest invention.
"What this does, basically, is measure his brain waves, heart rate, and a couple dozen other factors, compare them with his usual condition- which we know thanks to the records you gave us- convert that into an equation, and try to solve it. The solution should be the length of his... condition. It's competely non-invasive and it won't interfere with the monitors that are already in place. We ready?"
"May I take a look at it first?" Mary asked. Rich nodded, not bothering to tell her to be careful. She was hardly going to take a chance on screwing up the machine that would tell her when she'd be getting her son back. Mary studied it, frowning in concentration. "Interesting. Why a Jennings loop? I'd have thought a Nigma cross would have been more efficient."
Rich and Virgil gaped at her. Bruce almost smiled.
"Perhaps you didn't know Mary is an inventor in her own right. In fact, I see you've incorporated some of her work in your device."
"You're that Mary McGinnis?" Rich gasped. "Ohmigodohmigodohmigod- I don't believe this! Virgil, this is the McGinnis Solution I've told you about at least a million times! And I'm here in the same room as-"
"Richie- breathe. Now answer the nice lady's question before she decides you're completely insane instead of just halfway nuts."
"Oh. Right. Well, the Jennings loop actually works better when you want something for fine details. The Nigma cross is faster, but not quite as accurate."
"True." Mary handed the machine back to Rich. " Well, I'm ready, as long as Dr. Tikkainen has no objections."
"None. I'm hoping the device works, too."
Rich looked over at Bruce, who nodded. Within seconds he had the necessary sensors attached and the machine was humming the Moonlight Sonata. Everyone looked at Rich, who blushed.
"It seems to have a thing for classical music. I swear I didn't program that in. It has a theoretically low-grade AI in there and when she isn't performing her primary function she seems to be developing her personality. Thing is, it actually seems to make it run smoother, so I haven't messed with it."
Virgil sighed as Bruce raised an eyebrow; they were definitely going to be hearing about this later. Mary seemed as intrigued as she was hopeful, though Dr. Tikkainen looked dubious.
A soft fanfare announced that the machine was finished. Rich checked the display as the others tensed. Finally he sat back with a smile.
"Worked better than I hoped. She says Terry will wake up, and that'll happen in about two-and-a-half to three weeks. However, she exceeded her programming by predicting some probable side effects. They're the usual complications from something like this, but she's put probabilities on each one with a warning that due to the lack of understanding of the exact workings of the human brain she wouldn't guarantee any of them occurring- or not occurring. Ruko also says that with hard work and the proper regimen Terry has a 96.947 percent chance of walking again and a 94.388 percent chance of complete recovery. I think-"
Rich suddenly found himself with an armful of Mary McGinnis, being kissed passionately. Virgil slipped over to Bruce's side, relieved to see the Old Man looking a lot less old suddenly.
"You okay?" he asked softly. Bruce just nodded, but Virgil saw the joyous smile in his eyes- the smile Bruce would never allow himself to display openly. Virgil didn't say anything more, just enjoyed the moment.
**************************************************
More to come, I promise.