Chapter 3

A warm shower, a change of clothes and a small meal made a world of difference on a person's outlook. Terry had been locked in his room and while he could easily use one of his hidden gadgets to escape, his sensible side—which sounded remarkably like his Bruce—told him to reserve any advantage for an emergency. The room was decorated in contrasting shades of browns and tans. The bed, while large, was covered in a checkerboard cover and the large window faced towards the west grounds. The security system was nothing he couldn't undo if he really wanted to, considering how advanced the system was in his time.

The greatest risk he currently faced was Bruce Wayne discovering too much about his identity and taking steps to ensure Terry never got his hands on the suit. Reasonably, he had become as paranoid as the damn bat himself and yet... Terry had been fired before he was ever really at what Bruce considered to be At Risk with the Joker, Bruce had tried to pull the almighty god damned batman routine on the newest member of his little family.

Yet, each and every time Bruce failed to make him quit. Terry had managed to keep the name and the suit through the sheer stubborn will. Well, maybe there was also the fact that for Terry becoming Batman was a form of redemption. He, like Bruce, would rather avoid discussing his past.

Yeah, secrets were part of the Bat Family.

Sometimes you had to give some of them away though and as a consequence, he knew whatever he told Alfred would be heard by the other two. He wasn't naive enough to think his room wasn't bugged as well as wherever they decided to interrogate him. His predecessors were bound to record and analyze every movement and sound he made, both awake and asleep. Frankly, Terry couldn't blame them, he'd do the same in their position.

For the second time in his life, Terry wondered if Bruce would figure out all he needed to do was give the voice command to have access to everything Terry possessed. Safety overrides had been programmed into the suit and the car should the unthinkable happen and someone obtain the tech.

Then it would only be a short trip to Arkham...

Terry's will hardened as he formed plans to deal with both Batman and Robin. Before he could get too far into his plans, a knock sounded on his door and Alfred Pennyworth entered his room with a covered tray and a newspaper. The butler looked unsurprised to find Terry standing in the middle of the room gazing out at the blue of the daytime sky.

"I suspected you would be awake, Master Terry." He explained as he set a coffee tray down on the table. "I'm aware you've already eaten and based on your age I suspect you are used to going to school at this hour. A better time than any to discuss your presence. Shall we get started?"

Terry slumped into the chair across from Alfred as the old man went about serving them both a portion of tea. "What are you curious about?" Terry asked, launching into the conversation as easily as if he was discussing a topic at school.

"I would like to know the nature of your relationship with Master Bruce," Alfred replied, stirring two lumps of sugar into his tea as he locked blue eyes on the astonishingly familiar face in front of him.

Terry let out a huff of laughter. "In my time I'm Wayne's personal assistant." He responded drolly. "Why?"

The answer was not one that Alfred had been expecting and it sent a pang through him that this boy might not even be aware of how deep the connection ran and if indeed Master Bruce had ever given thought to what that meant. It was indeed a shame the boy was not aware of the depths his family history ran into Gotham. So, why had he become Batman then if not to carry on the legacy?

"I'm intrigued. What made you decide to step into Master Bruce's role?" Alfred inquired, watching Terry's facial expressions as he spoke.

A flash of guilt and sorrow replaced the boredom on the teenager's face as he set his cup aside. He hesitated to reveal his reasons and then realized that nothing beyond a strong reason could hope to justify encroaching upon the renowned title.

"My father died," Terry whispered. "We didn't have a good relationship and before he died I'd said some pretty harsh things. I left the house and got into some trouble and by the time I got home... Dad was dead. This gang caught the blame for it and I'd thought that would be the end of it. GCPD was wrong. I was wrong."

There was a tension in the dark haired boy's shoulders as he dropped his head to look at his nails and rubbed his palms together. Anxiety worked its way into his voice as Terry closed his eyes against the memories. "My father was killed because he'd learned of a toxic agent being produced at his work. By that time I had worked out who Bruce was and I went to him. I had the proof and he told me to take it to the cops."

Glancing through his bangs, Terry watched Alfred for his reaction. The old butler remained still, keeping leveled eyes on him as the teenager began to speak again. His voice deepened to match the same one he used when he was speaking through the suit. His resolve stiffened his shoulders as he carefully explained what happened next. "I never made it to the police because the guy who ordered the murder of my old man... He came and got the single piece of evidence that existed. I don't know what happened to it after that."

"I just couldn't let my father's murderer go," He stated simply.

Alfred worried. Could the boy have killed the murderer?

"I went back to the house, infiltrated the cave, and took the suit," Terry added. "I did what I had to. Not before Wayne found out and tried to shut me down and talk me out of this path. Got the tar beat out of me, learned a few things, and was offered a job at the end of it all. That's how I became Batman. Anything else you want to ask me, Mister Pennyworth?"

That explained quite a bit however there was more and Alfred wanted to know everything.

"You failed to mention other family, partners, how the city took to a new Batman." Alfred pointed out.

Here, Terry smirked. "I work alone. My family... I'd prefer if we left them out of this conversation. Some things just don't need to be explained. Gotham hates me. I'm a punk kid who came out of nowhere and revived a ghost from its past."

The child obviously had a low opinion of himself as he referred to himself in the negative. The murder of his father would have given Bruce enough of a jolt to allow him to let the boy use the suit, but why keep going? Was there something else?

"Who did your father work for?" Alfred pressed. There was something there in the dark of Terry's eyes as the boy shook his head.

"Much as I want to tell you, I can't risk it. I hate it, Mister Pennyworth, that just a few words could change everything. I could save my father, prevent so much pain from happening, and at the cost of what? Everything that Wayne, Grayson, the other people that have sacrificed to reach? That's something I can't do. I cannot interfere and I'll have to carry that with me. Do you understand, Mister Pennyworth? What does it mean to put duty over everything else? I... want to go home and the technology doesn't even exist. If it'll ever exist. The car has some kind of virus and I don't have the faintest clue on how to fix it." Terry stated, placing his chin in his palm as he settled an elbow on the arm of his chair.

Suppressing the urge to console the teenager, Alfred poured him another cup of tea and sat with him quietly as he continued to work out different questions to ask. Alfred tightened his grip on his cup as he considered something else. The boy spoke as if he had already given up. As if he was resigned to the perpetuation of his current fate. "You are prepared to live as a prisoner in this household, aren't you?"

"No. I don't think I could give up the mission that has become a part of me. There are small things I can do that will keep me occupied and let Bruce focus on the mission he's so obsessed over." Terry countered. Setting the cup on the table, the dark haired teenager flicked his wrist for a red lined Batarang to appear in his palm. The bladed weapon was sharp in contrast to the lines of the regular batarangs Bruce used. "I'm not asking anyone to look after me. I'm used to earning my allowance but..."

There was a click of his bedroom door as Bruce strolled in. Never mind that Terry's lips quirked slightly at the invasion of privacy. The scowls both Bats' wore were of equal intensity and Alfred blinked. He would definitely be running a DNA test when he left the room. His own curiosity demanded he answers the questions he'd thought of when he had first met the lad. "You're not going anywhere until we figure out who you are, Terry. If that's even your real name."

"Are we really going back to square one, Wayne? I'm not asking for a handout." Terry countered. "I know you think I'm either a punk who made some lucky guesses or someone who was planted to work against you."

In other words, Alfred realized, the teenager worked exclusively with Bruce and possibly even thought like him. Standing, the butler began to collect the dishes as the two Bats challenged each other in a staring contest that ironically seemed like a battle of wills.

There was an expulsion of air before Bruce softly cursed under his breath and turned away from Terry. "Alfred, when Leslie arrives please escort her to our guest. I want to know if he belongs in Arkham."

"You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here." Terry snapped, ignoring the fact that Wayne had obviously decided he was just plain nuts. Again. His fingers flicked the red Batarang open and closed several more times before he tucked the device away. Stepping back towards the window, Terry dismissed them, muttering darkly under his breath as Alfred and Bruce talked about him. Oddly, it seemed almost fitting that he was louder than Bruce. "What's another shrink meeting..."

Bruce grunted as if he wanted to say something more however he came to a halt when Alfred placed a hand on his arm. "Perhaps, sir, it would be best to leave our guest to his thoughts."

Clearly displeased with the idea, Bruce nodded his consent to Alfred's suggestion. Terry snorted. Alfred hadn't suggested anything. The Butler had blatantly ordered Bruce to quit harassing him for the time being and got away with it.

"Very good, sir. Master Terry, I wish you a pleasant rest. Doctor Thompkins is a well-respected woman." He advised. "Hardly a shrink though she is rather accomplished in treating such individuals to a limited extent."

"Of course," Terry replied. "Just let me know where I need to go."

Appeased by his submission, the butler pinned his employer with a stern look. Bruce scowled but slunk out of the room, the elder man closing and securing the door behind him. He couldn't help but huff a small laugh at the irony, of all the guest rooms in Wayne manor they locked him in the room that he claimed as his own in the distant future. Terry's brow lifted as he stared at himself in the window reflection. A theory struck him and he couldn't help but laugh.

Muttering aloud to himself, "I knew he was paranoid, but man... Maybe I should argue more?"

Feeling the stress of his situation sneaking up on him, Terry headed for the bed and collapsed face down on the mattress. The soft fabric rubbed his skin as being all wrong before he shut his eyes. Terry tried to combat the explosive need to just go home. Homesickness wouldn't help right now. He'd been through too much in his life to expect an easy happy ending. "Just think of it as training, McGinnis."

He clutched the pillows until his knuckles grew white and shook as he fought a sudden, crushing sense of despair. Not even the loss of his father had shaken him so completely. He needed to find a way home and starting from square one building trust with Bruce just so he could use his resources...

(break)

Dick Grayson watched the video feed in something of a thoughtful mood. He'd heard everything that was said and had settled for playing a neutral role while Bruce and Alfred ganged up on the poor kid. Alfred was busy running DNA tests on 'Terry's' dishes while Bruce hunted through an absurd amount of records trying to figure out where the Unknown had come from.

Or who he really was...

The teenager bounded off the bed and paced the room a scowl on his young face. "Slag it." The dark haired youth exclaimed. "Those dregs..."

"He's using some kind of weird language. Possibly a code? It's not like anything I've heard before." Dick said, adding the odd comments to the list of notes everyone was taking.

In a gesture eerily like Bruce Wayne, he ran his hand through his longish bangs as he stalked around the room scowling. The two older men glanced at the screen as Dick leaned closer to the screen, trying to assess if he was really seeing what he was seeing. Dick Grayson snorted back a laugh as soon as he realized what he was looking at.

"What is so amusing, young master?" Alfred asked, inquiring after the broken laughter the Robin was making.

A glance towards both his peers led the young man to point towards the screen in explanation. "He acts a lot like you do, Bruce, especially when you're brooding."

Dick felt the glare and snickered to himself as his mentor and guardian forced himself to turn back to his own project. Bruce was determined to find a genetic relation to Terry Unknown or figure out how he managed to get away with such advanced technology. Likely they had fallen for some kind of trap, yet, the lack of information was certainly upsetting Bruce's carefully planned agenda.

"So, we've got a few hours to kill. I think I'll head up to bed. I've got an exam Monday and I really need to study and have a clearer head than I did last week." Dick suddenly stated, stretching both arms above his head. Groaning, the young vigilante stood up and tilted his head towards the stairs. "Anything you need me to do before I call it a morning?"

Bruce ignored the question as Alfred turned to answer him. "Dinner will be served at four o'clock, Master Richard."

"Sure thing, Al. Night." The Boy Wonder called before disappearing up the stairs and leaving his guardians to their projects.