Chapter 5: Sorting Family and Laundry
"Alfred Pennyworth valued many things, with Bruce Wayne and later Dick Grayson taking top priority in his life. Terry, who was little more than a child, entered their lives as dramatically as Batman emerged on crime scenes. Bruce informed the teenager of their genetic connection, leaving everyone wondering about the extent of it. In truth, Terry's presence complicated their lives.

How was a boy like Terry McGinnis supposed to navigate their world? While sorting through magazines, Alfred paused over one featuring a special story on the medical history of fertility treatments. He picked up the magazine and opened the glossy pages to find an article mentioning the initial efforts of sperm donors and other treatments offered even before Terry was born.

Though a long shot, it could provide Terry McGinnis with a much-needed explanation for his existence. Alfred reached for the phone in the home office and dialed Bruce Wayne's private line."

(Break)

"Bruce had said 'We,' not the singular 'I' or 'You' Terry had grown used to. This perhaps was the Bruce that had been accustomed to pursuing partnerships, unencumbered by years fighting a war that never seemed to have an end. The single payoff being a reduction of violent crimes for a mere decade and a little more. Bruce Wayne was through and through the Batman. That wasn't to say he couldn't make mistakes, but he was the origin of the name and only quit after his age-weakened body forced retirement on him.

'What am I doing giving up like that?' Terry said. He began to think about the car's onboard computer system as he flopped over onto his side. The fabric of his borrowed shirt bunched on his side while the dark-haired teenager stared hard at the wall opposite the door. The cream-colored paint had been replaced in the future with a blue and tan paint job by the time he came on the scene. The subtle difference jarred his mind, reminding him that this was not his place or his time. He had people and responsibilities to get back to. Terry scrunched his brows together as he lay there. 'Just because the technology doesn't exactly exist yet doesn't mean I still don't have the car or the suit. There has to be something usable on one of them, if not both.'

If nothing else, there might even be some kind of emergency file he could use to explain what had happened better. Wayne was definitely paranoid enough for it. A knock on his door drew Terry from his goal of pursuing clues through suit and car.

'Yeah?' he asked as he rolled to a sitting position on the bed.

Opening the door, Dick Grayson hovered in the entryway. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he stared at him. 'We should talk.'

'About what?' The hairs on the back of Terry's neck rose. This family was big on talking. He was used to half-explained orders and gut instinct. Something he thought this first Robin might be the start of if he was theorizing correctly.

'Bruce said you were related somehow. I noticed that you completely blew that off, and while I'm willing to let some things go, not that. Never that. So, why don't you explain to me how you became Batman?' Dick Grayson leveled a hard stare at the juvenile Batman.

Terry let out a sharp breath. He'd sworn to himself he hadn't heard that earlier. 'I already told the Butler,' he answered.

'Alfred didn't tell me. You seem to know a few things about Bruce and very little about either of us. That makes certain things tricky. Besides, the more facts we have to work with, the more we can help each other. So, let's go down to the cave and work out some of those facts, hmm?' Dick offered, reasoning that trapping the teenager inside a small room for several hours with nothing to do might not have been a wise move.

'I can't give you an answer about being related to Wayne or not. My family isn't even in the same league as his,' Terry answered, though not without getting to his feet so he could follow the older teenager into the cave. He needed to get to the car anyway if he was going to search for a file that might have some kind of plan on it. 'My time is more than a generation away. Wayne's old enough to become my grandfather or great-grandfather if he had an early start by the time I became Batman. He'd been retired for twenty years before that even.'

'How old is Bruce in your time?' Dick asked, increasingly curious about unmasking this future Batman. More than a generation between Terry and them; a lot could happen in that timeframe. 'What kind of relationship do you two have?'

Scratching the back of his head, Terry gave him an amused look. 'Eighty-five. As for work… I was kind of hired as his personal assistant.'

Dick smirked, though mostly as a polite answer to Terry's words. Bruce, it seemed, would change a lot over the next decade or so. 'I'm sure there are answers to all your questions. We just need to look in the right places.'"

(break)

"Throwing down his pen, Bruce leaned back in his office chair at Wayne Tech as the situation with the time-traveling teenager came back into his thoughts. Bruce had no way of explaining the teenager's existence, and the added complication of the boy appearing unaware of their genetic connection. What did this mean for his future? Who was the boy's mother?

How was he going to get a time-displaced child back to where he was supposed to be? Even from the few conversations with him, Bruce knew the young man wasn't the sort to sit around placidly if there were steps he could take to fight the evils that plagued Gotham.

Bruce frowned at that. There was no way he was going to let some teenager become a vigilante twenty-four seven. Even he had to have some kind of social life considering the amount of stress his night job put out. Realistically, getting the child home would have emerged first, but given the nature of his technology, it might be beyond them. If that was the case, he'd have to drum up some kind of story for the kid.

His fingers tapped out a rhythm on his desk as his secretary entered his office with a tray of coffee and the day's documents waiting to be signed. 'Is something wrong, sir?' she asked when she noticed her boss's less-than-pleasant glare.

'It's nothing, really,' Bruce responded halfheartedly. If only it could be explained better…

The shrill ring of his personal phone cut off the billionaire's thoughts as he quickly answered. 'What is it, Alfred?'

'I have an answer to our young guest's problem, sir. Perhaps you can come home earlier so we can discuss it?' Alfred asked. The heightened tension in the butler's proper voice pulled at Bruce's gut.

'Rebecca, I'll be taking an early day. There are some things at home I need to take care of,' he excused himself as he quickly gathered up his coat, files, and phone. 'Have Sam inform the rest of the board that a family emergency has emerged.'

It seemed as if he was always running somewhere else today. First the cave, then the teenager's room, then work. What was next?"

(break)

"Bruce flipped the page he was reading twice before he carefully set the magazine down. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to his Butler, who stood ill at ease with his former ward. Although it was a difficult solution, it could be pulled off. However, not without some distasteful and abhorrent thoughts.

'I'm not sure if I want to agree with this, Alfred,' Bruce said in a tone of voice that gave nothing away. His shoulders were rigid, his back tight, and he could only shudder under the pressure of what his mentor was asking of him. To give Terry a life in Gotham, something to anchor his existence in case he wasn't able to go home, left the Batman with a bitter taste in his mouth.

'I doubt that young Master Terry would agree,' Alfred responded. 'However, that is of little consequence.'

'You're suggesting I pretend that my father had a son with another woman or something of that ilk,' Bruce snapped.

'It is not beyond feasible, sir,' Alfred responded, picking up the final piece of the puzzle. 'When I washed the young man's clothing, I found this in one of the pockets. A picture of what I presume is his family.'

Taking the photograph, its material unfamiliar to Bruce, he scanned the image and then glanced up at his parents' profiles on the giant painting that hung over the fire. The resemblance was uncanny except for the image of the younger boy; their guest's family could have been a mirror image of his own.

'What did he tell you about them?' Bruce asked, terrified of what the answer could very well be, but needing it all the same.

'His father and he did not get along very well. I do not doubt that Master Terry loved the man, and that is why he became Batman. The man in that picture was, by his words, murdered,' Alfred explained. 'The young man carries a burden of his own, different from yours, but similar enough that your future self-aided him in his current pursuit.'

Bruce tilted his head slightly. 'Alfred, how did you acquire Terry's things? I don't remember him giving them to you.'

Alfred flushed. 'I took the liberty of removing them from the cave and washing the entire contents of the backpack. I left everything that wasn't machine washable in the dressing room.'

Bruce half wondered if the Butler had washed the future Batman's uniform as well. 'Alfred, please, tell me you didn't wash his Bat-suit?'

'It was rather filthy, sir,' he answered, wondering why Bruce was going so pale. 'Is there something wrong, sir?'

'He had parts of it with him in the room,' Bruce stated. 'It's a technology we aren't familiar with, and we don't know what we can and cannot do with his things.'

'Oh, my,' Alfred responded. If he had accidentally ruined something…."

(break)

"Terry lifted up his empty backpack with a questioning look towards Dick Grayson. It was seriously something his mother would have done if he hadn't started doing his own laundry from the moment he moved into the apartment.

The unmasked Robin shrugged. 'Alfred may have taken your things for cleaning,' he answered. 'He'll put it back later.'

Terry shook his head. No wonder Wayne had ensured the suit was machine washable. He'd have to learn how to predict that Butler quickly. 'Reminds me of my mother…'

'So, what are we going to be looking for?' Dick asked.

'A file or something that can help me deal with this situation,' Terry responded as he turned back to the car. 'The suit is like a mobile version of the cave in many ways; however, the car could have something the suit doesn't. Information packets, for one. I know it's got supplies I haven't even guessed at.'

Jumping onto the hood of the deactivated vehicle, Terry punched in the key sequence that would open some of the external side lock boxes. Jumping back down, he pulled at one of the hidden security boxes and released the side drawer as he began to search for his clues.

'Okay, so why does the car have those kinds of files?' Dick asked. 'Isn't that a bit of a security risk?'

Terry shrugged. 'All I know is Wayne started shoving these things at me when I went on patrol and for long sessions where I needed to study something. It would probably have made more sense to put everything on a memory drive, but he said the hard copies were more useful if I got stuck somewhere. Time travel tended to happen quite frequently in my time from what I understand.'

Dick watched Terry sort through the different files as he pushed one security box back into the car after another. Finally, he reached one that seemed smaller than all the others, and he removed a single folded piece of paper. Leaning back in the car, Terry opened it to read the scratchy writing across its yellowed surface. Slowly at first and then more furiously, Terry went back over the writing.

'They're instructions. On how to contact home…' Terry said, looking up at Dick Grayson with alarm. 'I need to use the computer.'"