I had been meaning to post this update months ago but school has been kicking my arse. Anyways, i basically got pissed at myself for not updating sooner which is why i jus threw this out of my head tonight. I know it's short. Hopefully the next update will be a bit more exciting. I'm going to try to update another story by next weekend! Laters guys and goodnight!

ps please excuse any typos or grammatical errors

Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?

Two

Terry walked through the front door of the house with a solemn expression on his face as his mother Mary and little brother Matt – both which were seated at the dining room table preparing to dig into dinner – turned at his arrival. "Food's ready honey," Mary offered with a raised brow of mild concern once she noted the teen's unusual silence. "You've had a long day with Mr. Wayne. Come eat."

Terry frowned and shook his head with an upraised hand. The boy swallowed the rising bile in his throat and answered weakly, "No, no. I'm not hungry."

Not hungry? Her son? Something had to be wrong, and greatly so. Between his somber look and refusal to eat, Mary McGinnis's concern grew and she started to rise from her chair. "Are you okay, Ter? You look sick…"

"If you're gonna upchuck-," teased Matt from his side of the table with a mischievous glint, "-bring it this way. I'd rather have pizza." His lips clamped shut, however, after the McGinnis matriarch shot the child a warning look. Got it: now wasn't the best time to work mother's nerves.

Not wanting to talk about it much less deal with Mary's further suspicions, Terry motioned for the mom to stay seated and headed to his bedroom without so much as a hug or kiss of welcome, stating, "I just need…some sleep. I'm going to bed." Terrence rushed into the hall to avoid the uncomfortable intuitiveness of his mother as swiftly as possible. If she'd caught him, and questioned him, he'd have to tell her that he and Max were…McGinnis touched his throbbing forehead in hopes of subduing the memory of Gibson's expression in that window…Guilt attacked his stomach like a punch straight from Bane, and Terry detoured straight for the bathroom where he hovered briefly over the toilet expelling every regret, hurt, and confusion about what he'd done tonight. Terry huffed and sat back against the bathroom wall for a moment longer, breathing heavily and feeling his mind whirling – debating with itself about whether or not he'd made the right choice. But Terry somehow found the strength to get up and, after brushing away the taste in his mouth, headed to his room where the young vigilante collapsed onto his mattress with a groan. The pale moonlight shone through the teen's window as he focused on the soft patter of rain on the rooftop as it eventually eased his thoughts and body.

As much as he might have hated it, still the young man was sure he had made the right choice. This was the only way to ensure his inability to protect Max didn't put her directly in danger at his expense again. Maxine Gibson was a tough girl. She'd be able to move on and go on about her life happily; happier than when he was in it, he assumed. She'd be fine. He made the right choice…right?

A week later, Chelsea Cunningham slouched against her locker first thing Monday morning before homeroom with a tight frown as Dana and Terry approached through the front door at the end of the hall, Nelson with them – which was surprising since he and McGinnis hated one another's guts. Obviously it wasn't an enjoyable commute for either of them, however, since judging from the looks on the male's faces, they appeared to be struggling not to knock the other's teeth in. Probably if it weren't for Dana being present, they would have already. Well, that was for the best – otherwise Chelsea wouldn't be able to talk to them about what had been bothering her for a while now. Once the involved parties arrived, Cunningham growled, "What took you all so long?" Chelsea never arrived to school early – but given the current situation, desperate times called for desperate measures; didn't mean she had to enjoy it, and she truly didn't.

"Relax, Chels," stated Nelson, winking seductively at an underclassmen who blushed a vibrant red as she walked by with her friends. "It's not 911-."

"It is 911!" hissed back the blonde with a look of pure hate, slapping the jock upside the head with her chemistry notebook. "Do you honestly think I would sacrifice my beauty sleep to get here this early if it weren't dire?! I love you guys, but not 'arrive to this shithole almost an hour early just for the hell of it' kind of love you." The ginger jock hissed in pain and prepared to curse out the attractive counterpart but she gave him no time before turning back to the others who were struggling not to lose it with laughter. "This is serious guys. I'm worried."

Well that was reason enough within itself to pull themselves together – the ever lighthearted Cunningham hardly ever let anything to bother, much less worry, her. Dana cocked her head to the side. "What's wrong, Chels?"

Chelsea bit her bottom lip before responding in a low voice, "It's Max." Good thing she didn't notice Terry's immediate stiffen and discomfort, lest Cunningham would have pounced.

"What about her?" asked Nash, rubbing the back of his cranium gingerly; though the topic at hand did cause him to be a tad more attentive. Max was his friend too, after all – and now that Chelsea mentioned it, Nelson recognized that something somewhere was very off in regards to the bad ass genius.

Chelsea looked at all of them with a dumbfounded expression. "I can't be the only one who's noticed?! It's been over a week and there's no sign of her. She hasn't been to school – hell, she hasn't even called in to the office to give a heads up on why she hasn't been to school – I can't get her on the phone, and I tried to go to her apartment a few times last week but no one is ever home. Max never turns down a chance for company since she's usually alone. And she NEVER takes a chance on fucking up her perfect attendance record." Chelsea squeezed the morning textbooks tight to the girl's perky chest as worry became even more evident on her features, earning a solemn silence from the gathered teens. "It's not like her," Cunningham murmured.

Dana gave Terry a look before gently rubbing Chelsea's shoulder and softly offering an alternative that would surely lessen the stress: "Maybe she's with her sister."

Chelsea scoffed at that option with so much resentment the air went cold. "Candice bailed on her, remember?"

Shit, she was right. Dana had been there when the text had come. Forgetting that level of disappointment from the brilliant friend was practically impossible. But, it could also mean that the elder sister felt like crap for ditching on Max like that, and came back to fix the issue. Sure they couldn't really rely on Max's sister much in the past, but this visit was supposed to be special for some reason to the younger Gibson. No sibling would in their right mind just…end that. "Yeeeeaaaah," started Tan before suggesting, "but maybe things changed or something. Her sister owes her for, like, life. Maybe they just decided catching up was more important. Max deserves that much, right?"

But this time, Nash was the one to refute such thoughts as the jock folded his arms and leaned against the locker as well with a serious expression. "I don't know," Nelson chimed in. "It's still not adding up. If things with her sister had gotten as happy-go-lucky as you're saying, wouldn't Max have let at least one of us know?" Chelsea pointed a finger in the jock's direction as if indicating the vast importance of the point he'd just made. Nash gave one swift nod before adding, "No one's heard from Max in over a week. Nothing. I'm with Chels on this one: something's wrong."

Terry cleared his throat and adjusted his backpack with an almost empty gaze. "Well what are we supposed to do about it?" Everyone's eyes focused on him – some in shock, some in annoyance – but McGinnis ignored their reaction as he closed his eyes and sighed. "Look if Max really wanted help, she'd ask for it. Maybe it's best that we don't go poking our noses in her business."

Obviously Terry must have forgotten that they were friends, and that as a result: none of them had to deal with any problem – no matter how big or small – alone. When one of them had a hard time, it was their job to help out. Unless…unless one of them was the reason for another's issue…Chelsea narrowed her brows. Son of bitch. "Ya know, McGinnis – it almost sounds like you know something we don't…" Cunningham raised from the locker and took a small step in his direction, tilting her head in that "you're about to get fucked up" manner she was notorious for when someone worked her nerve.

Oh shit. Terry shrugged, attempting to shrug off the blonde's suspicions. He did not have the energy to deal with this right now. "All I'm saying is: sometimes things happen. Sometimes we-." His ice blue eyes directed towards the doors subconsciously to avoid the others' judging gazes…and they soon widened a bit in recognition of the girl walking through them. "Max…" he said with more relief than he originally intended to give off. In truth, a week without anyone hearing anything from Gibson had caused the neo-vigilante to grow more concerned within these few moments talking with the gang than he had been since that night outside of her apartment. Terry expected for Max to not want to talk to him; but denying everyone else was definitely outside of her character. But it looked like he was worried for nothing: because here she was, walking through the Hill High entrance with her backpack slung over one shoulder as she turned down the protective collar of her blue jacket now that the girl was safely indoors away from the chilled outside air.

The gang followed McGinnis's gaze and seemed to relax at the sight of their previously M.I.A. friend. Thank the ever vigilant Batman. Chelsea threw up her hand and waved excitedly, calling out to their bestie, "Max! MAX!" But Terry felt something was off; that feeling was immediately confirmed as Gibson looked up at the sound of her name, but averted her eyes from the group as she walked towards them. Chelsea continued on as the girl approached, "Max baby, what's up? Where'd you disappear to, girl? You had us all….worried…?" Cunningham's mouth dropped helplessly as she and the others watched with absolute bewilderment as Maxine Gibson walked right past them without so much as a glance of acknowledgment. Just silence. As if they didn't even exist. Terry watched her go by, taking in the exhaustion that overwhelmed her countenance before practically feeling an icy chill rush up his spine as she passed and completely disappeared from sight after rounding a hall corner. The group stood there in dumbfounded silence; none of them sure of what the hell just happened, but knowing that things had become far more complex than any of them could have ever imagined.

She walked right by them – her only friends – as if they had never existed at all in the first place. Something told her she would regret that very soon, but right now Max didn't feel like pretending everything was fine and dandy because, in all honesty, it was far from it. And even more, how was she supposed to stand there in front of them while Terry was there? Simple – she couldn't; and wouldn't. The last thing the girl wanted right now was to even look at his face. She would much rather still be home but (as brilliant as she was) Max couldn't afford to make her make-up assignments list any bigger than it was, lest she might actually fall behind.

The first few days the girl was trapped home in a bubble of confusion. Somehow her mind hadn't been able to fully comprehend what McGinnis forced on their relationship. And every time Gibson seemed close to grasping it, denial surfaced. But in time it became clear, and the confusion was replaced with grief. It surprised her, to be honest. Max hadn't cried over anyone in a very long time. In fact, she hardly ever showed any signs of emotional weakness, even amongst her dearest friends (though Chelsea and Dana were always able to read right past her concealed attempts with much ease – that's what friends did, after all). Yet, the realization that McGinnis no longer wanted her around in his life as Batman (and otherwise) actually stung greatly; and it often times almost drowned her. But once that was past, and while she still felt great sadness over the situation, Max found more anger and sense of betrayal at the forefront of it all. The thought of everything the two had been through and his easy willingness to just toss it away enraged the girl beyond words. Between her so called best friend's abandonment and then the situation with Candice, Maxine Gibson was furious.

Gibson came to her locker and spun the dial in a swift and hard motion before yanking the handle and swinging the door open. She reached into her backpack and threw her textbooks inside with more aggression as the memory of that night played back; and as she thought on the expression Terry had just made when she'd come through the front doors. Relief? Relief was an indication of care – and as far as Max was concerned, McGinnis didn't care anymore; or at least he no longer had the right to. This was the choice that he made, and she would make sure that her once close friend suffered through it just as much as she was. He lied to her, tricked and used her just like everyone else had done. For the first time Max hated him for it – the genius narrowed her brows and slammed the locker shut before stalking down the hall for homeroom – and she didn't give a single damn if Terry McGinnis found out just how much…

In spite of everything that happened – losing his men, ship, honor, pride…plan – there was only one thing that dominated the forefront of his mind as the Jurassic creature prowled through the darkness and foul rank of the underground systems beneath Gotham once free from his collapsed prison: Max. Her face blotted out everything else as a low growl reverberated through his massive chest. Zander hissed and leaned against a wall as a slow healing wound ached for a brief moment before the Kobra ruler trudged on. His highly attuned senses guided the spliced creature onward for a place he knew would be safe, a place where he could recover and regain his strength before pursuing vengeance for Kobra's foiled plot. "Maaaxxxx," his deep voice growled; though for some odd reason Zander had not yet determined whether his feelings for her were strictly of anger…or still of want.

She'd destroyed everything that he had been birthed to build – the future of Kobra, his future as King. But then again, she wasn't the real reason for this disaster…Batman was. The monstrosity growled again, this time with far more aggression than before. Batman was the one who showed up, who destroyed his ship, who even took Max away. In time Zander could have made her understand; Kobra was not without its ways of influence – but the vigilante showed up and ruined it all. Zander's sharp teeth bared and dripped hungrily with disdain for the hero. He would make Batman pay…but first? Max…

A mildly twisted smile carved over his razor fangs as the creature reached a hand to the wall and sharpened his talons with an eerie scratching noise while he disappeared down one of the tunnels – the sound echoing after him. Yes…first, he'd have to deal with Max.

TO BE CONTINUED…