....I'm not dead. Really. Brain-dead, possibly.

The fact is, I had a long bout of writer's block and didn't get anything written at all between my last post and mid-to-late June. And THAT, unfortunately, was on a Highlander fic. blush But last week I re-read everything I'd written to see if it would kick-start my BB muse, and lo and behold, a chapter!

Woot, I say, woot.

Thanks for reviewing, everyone. It really did give me incentive to get my head out of my butt.

Apparently FFN no longer likes asterisks, so I guess will denote thoughts from now on.

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Barbara leaned against the wall outside of Max's apartment, knowing perfectly well that she had a long wait ahead of her. The girl was very obviously hiding from her. It wasn't going to work.

"You know, Max, I could just pick the lock and let myself in. And I will if I have to. You really don't want me to have to. Trust me on this."

She knew she wasn't as innately intimidating as Bruce, but she more than made up for it in creative threats.

"I mean it, Max- Quik-E-Marts."

Five seconds later, the door opened. Barbara smirked; she knew a threat to Max's computer would get her attention. She walked past the still-pale Max and took a seat on the couch.

"Um," Max said intelligently.

"Something you'd like to tell me?"

"NO!!! Uh, no, everything's fine. Well, except Terry's still in the hospital and the fake Batman running into Superman and- oh, crap."

"Superman? Interesting. I wonder if Bruce knows about that. I'll bet he doesn't, doesn't he?"

"Um," Max repeated.

"Which makes me wonder how you know about it."

"It was on the news a few minutes ago?"

"No, it wasn't."

"Uhhhh...."

"You're sure there's nothing you'd like to tell me?"

"Geez, Pinky, just tell her already! This is getting embarrassing!"

Barbara raised an eyebrow at the blonde girl who burst out of the other room.

"Rosalie Rowan, isn't it? Now what could you possibly be doing here? Maybe staying safe while a certain synthoid runs around hunting Jokerz?"

"Um," Ro replied. Max groaned and collapsed into a chair.

"I swear I didn't know anything about this until yesterday," she whimpered. "It wasn't my idea! But he'd already started and I thought maybe he'd give it up after I talked to him but he didn't and then J-Man died which wasn't his fault and then I found out about the convention and Bennett will be here any day now and Wayne's gonna kill all of us and-"

"MAX!!!"

"I swear I found a grey hair this morning."

"Welcome to my world," Barbara said dryly. She shot a look at Ro.

"If you're wondering how much I know- so am I. I kinda guessed that the guy in the hospital is the real Batman. Zeta isn't too good at keeping secrets. And he was used for espionage?"

"Our tax creds at work," Max grumbled.

"So Zeta is playing Batman, then. Anything else you don't want to tell me?" Max and Ro exchanged glances. Barbara chuckled. She was going to enjoy the next few hours; Max and Ro between them would tell her everything she needed to know.

And for once, she was going to have the answers before Bruce.

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Bruce sat by Terry's bed, frowning down at the unresponsive young man. In a way, it was worse than when he was in a coma; he hadn't had a choice about the coma. This deliberate withdrawal would be harder to coax him out of.

"Terry, look at me."

No response. He hadn't expected one, but he had to try being gentle first. After all, you always tried the doorknob before kicking the door down. He took a deep breath, then hesitated. Terry was looking almost fragile, lying in the hospital bed. His bruises had all faded and his hair was growing out but in an odd way this only emphasized his weakened condition. He'd lost weight while in the coma- not much, since he didn't have much excess weight to begin with, but enough to make his face leaner, his cheekbones more pronounced, the line of his jaw more clearly defined. The loss of the last bits of baby fat had the paradoxical effect of making him look younger. Far too young to bear the responsibilities that awaited him when he recovered enough to take up the mantle again. Suddenly, and for the first time, Bruce wondered if he even had the right to ask Terry to return.

Worry about that later. If he doesn't snap out of this, it's a moot point anyway.

Dismissing the doubts that were beginning to grow, he took another deep breath, straightened his spine- and cut loose with the roar he'd used to good effect so many times before.

"MCGINNIS, STOP SULKING AND OPEN YOUR EYES NOW!!!"

Terry's eyes snapped open, and Bruce was stunned at the depth of self-loathing in them. He realised there was more at work here than just Brenda McGinnis' ranting.

"What did you remember," he asked in a much gentler tone. Terry looked away, shame joining self-loathing in his eyes. "Terry, whatever That Woman told you, she was wrong."

"No." Terry's voice was so soft Bruce wasn't sure at first that he had spoken, but he continued after a few seconds. "I killed him."

"Your father?"

"Warren McGinnis."

Bruce wasn't prone to swearing, even in his own mind, but at that he found himself biting back a string of curses. He'd hoped he'd have time to discuss what he'd heard and learned with Mary before deciding what, if anything, to say to Terry.

Stall, old man. One crisis at a time, if you can manage it.

"That's what I said."

"He wasn't my father."

"Did That Woman tell you that?"

"Yes. But I knew already."

Crap. "How?"

"He has brown eyes. Mom has hazel. I have blue eyes. It's impossible-"

"No, it isn't." It's just unlikely. "Impossible would be if they'd had blue eyes and you had brown. If they both carried a strand for blue eyes in their DNA, they could have a child with blue eyes." There was no way he was going to tell Terry that he'd already checked and learned that Warren carried no such strand.

"It doesn't really matter."

"No, it doesn't. He raised you; he's your father. Biology's only important for your medical history."

"And I killed him."

"NO." Still as pig-headed as ever. He couldn't have lost that with his memory? "Terry, when Warren McGinnis was killed you were trapped in my house by an over-protective watchdog. You may not remember that, but I do."

"But-"

"You have always blamed yourself for his death, but believe me when I tell you- again- that there is nothing you could have done. Even if you had been there, all that would have changed was the number of McGinnis men buried."

Terry looked dubious, but the expression in his eyes that worried Bruce was fading.

"She said-"

"McGinnis, in the short time I've known That Woman, I've come to the conclusion that I wouldn't believe her if she said water was wet," Bruce growled. Terry blinked.

"Are you saying she lied?"

"I'm saying that for whatever reason she hates both your mother and you, and possibly Matt as well. She is not what anyone would consider an impartial observer. She may believe her accusations, but that doesn't mean they're valid."

Terry seemed to be considering this. Bruce stifled a sigh of relief. He really wasn't suited to play counselor, even if he wasn't making such a bad job of it at the moment. After a few minutes of silence, Terry shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Bruce's eyes again.

"What is it?"

Terry blushed, making Bruce exceptionally nervous.

"She... um. She said we- I didn't believe- at least, I didn't want to- but I'm not exactly the best judge right now, so- she was making that up, right?"

This time Bruce didn't even try to restrain the sigh. If I ever get my hands on That Woman...

"Terry, if you have never doubted my word before, this isn't the time to start. Our relationship may be unusual, but there is nothing improper about it. Or immoral."

"How about illegal?" There was a hint of a smile in Terry's eyes now.

"I'd have to think about that," Bruce shot back, turning the truth into a small joke. The smile in Terry's eyes quirked at the corners of his mouth.

"We could always ask the Commish."

"NO."

"I'm sure she'd tell us."

Bruce stifled another sigh. He'd caught Terry's unconscious use of his nickname for Barbara, and the fact that he could joke again was good, but he couldn't let himself get sidetracked. Terry had obviously remembered something that had reinforced Brenda's accusations; Bruce was determined to find out what it was.

"Terry."

For the first time that visit, Terry looked directly at him. The smile drained away.

"What did you remember?"

Terry hesitated, then told him. Bruce was stunned; as he recalled, when he'd asked Terry if he'd enjoyed his Christmas that year, the boy had just shrugged and given him a half-smile. He hadn't pressed the matter then, knowing from painful experience how hard the first Christmas after a death could be. It had never occurred to him that Terry, with his father's family still living in Gotham, could have spent it as alone as Bruce had been. More so, because Bruce hadn't had anyone to spend it with. Terry had, but had been turned away. He felt a burst of rage at Mary McGinnis for her part in it, but it died as he remembered her comment about Terry not wanting to see her if he remembered certain things. This was obviously one of those things.

Terry's tale limped to a stop and Bruce marshalled his arguments. Discounting the word of a woman who had appeared out of nowhere and started flinging accusations about was one thing; arguing with Terry's own memories and their attendant neuroses was going to be much harder.

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It was hours later by the time he got back to the Manor. He'd wanted to talk to Mary, but had decided one major confrontation a day was enough. He really should have known better than to tempt fate, because Superman was waiting for him at his front door.

"That was quick."

Clark just nodded with a look that said quite plainly that he was about to get out of Dodge.

"It's someone you know. He'll be here within the hour. I'd love to stick around for the fireworks, but I'm needed back at the Watchtower. Call me if you need anything. I mean it. See you around, Bruce."

And he was gone. Bruce looked up at the sky, his eyes gleaming.

"Coward."

By the time he'd gotten inside and hung up his coat, the e-mail had come through.

I heard that. Clark hadn't bothered signing it. He hadn't needed to. Bruce just smirked and prepared for his next victim.

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That should do it for a while. Hopefully I'll have another chapter within a week.