Batman Beyond #1

[Mischief]

Written by Daryl a.k.a. 'Hope'
Cover by Mischief
Edited by KrystaleDragon

* Editor's Note: Sorry for the delay. So without further delay, the future is NOW

[Mischief]

Batman Beyond:
The Tomorrow Knight
Death and Rebirth

20 Years Ago


It was once a place of hope, of change, of action. It was the dominion of the bat. The “Batcave” it had been called. Now it was just a museum to the career of a fallen warrior.

“Bruce, you don't have to do this!”

“Yes, yes I do. It's time I ended this. I should have ended this years ago.”

Bruce sat in front of the computer, the computer that helped fall so many plots and schemes, preparing it for the end.

“Is it because of your age? It doesn't matter. I've had a few problems, we all do, but that's not-”

“No! It's not just that! I can't do this anymore. Forty years and nothing has changed. Forty years, and the world is still in peril, this city still isn't clean and criminals still victimize the innocent-”

“You're the one who told me that the war will never end!”

“The war will never end, but I can't fight it anymore!”

The two men stared each other down, the student now taller than the master due to his hunching. His presence though, was still strong. Still defiant, but the fire in his eyes was gone.

“Bruce, you can get over this. You're still healthier than most men half your age for God's sake! I bet you could take on three guys alone!”

“There was a time that I could take down three thugs without even thinking about it. My body... it can't take it any more. I can't do this, I-”

“You can still fight better than any man-”

“BUT NOT LIKE BATMAN!”

He seemed to continue but stopped in a fit of coughs and wheezes. The once proud warrior was a pathetic image of what he once was.

“Batman needs to be better. Batman needs to be able to face the criminal element in all its forms. If I can't then... then I can't be worthy of the mask anymore.”

The anger and frustration was gone from his face. All that was left was pain and shame.

“Bruce, what happened?” he asked softly.

[Mischief]

Two Days Prior


Batman hopped across the rooftops. He sailed like the demon that was his name. Immortal. Terrifying.

Vengeful.

He was tired, he was worried. He couldn't remember what street he was on. His heart hurt.

Demons of the Night.

Soon he spotted him, heading into a warehouse. The bat streaked down from the sky in a hellish fury.

Monsters.

The kidnappers were inside waiting for their accomplice to return. He would tell them of the coming. Of his arrival. He needed to act quickly.

A myth, a legend.

He crashed through the sky-light and spread the smoke bombs in four directions. Two ran, four went down in a series of kicks. There were still three left though.

Rising from the depths of hell to bring justice to evil.

His chest hurt and he needed sleep. A few batarangs for distractions and a running kick to one of them. His knee popped.

Those who spoke his name knew only fear.

The other two came up with guns and the third recovered quickly. Hadn't he just kicked him? His head was spinning.

No one could fall him for he is more than just a man.

The girl was tied in the back, her clothes shredded and tear-stained. She looked upon in him fear.

Striking fear into the hearts of villains.

The third kicked him in the head and now blood was in his eye. He could hear the guns cocking and the kidnappers laughing in glee.

A monster. A symbol. Infallible.

He rose slowly to his feet, leaning on his good leg, and reached into the box marked “Ammunitions.” His thoughts weren't straight, his body was heavy. He threw.

He is Vengeance. He is the Night.

The explosion was immense and blew him through a window. The crash and the pain in his back, didn't match the guilt spreading to his slipping mind.

He is Batman.

He was defeated.

[Mischief]

“Bruce.... I had no idea. I'm-”

“Don't say it! Don't you dare say it! This guilt will carry with me forever! It must... It is all the pittance I can manage for my soul.”

The cave was quiet again, except for Bruce's typing on the computer. The screen soon went blank and he gave a small sigh.

“I've sent all my criminal data to the Justice League's headquarters. They'll be able to use anything I've procured over the years.”

“Bruce, you made one mistake. It happens. You just... have to push through.”

“I didn't make a mistake. I made the conscious decision-”

“You were sleep-deprived and-”

“I didn't think about anything except my own survival, even if it meant the use of lethal force! I put two men in comas, killed one, and gave that girl burns she'll never heal from.”

“One mistake, that's all! You can-”

“No Dick!”

The two men faced each other, one older and graying, but still handsome as he was twenty years ago. The other was hunched, torn, and tired. He had long ago been scarred too deeply by his city. Both were defiant in their stances.

“I can't do this anymore. I'm not worthy of the mantle anymore. It's over.”

He stepped past his old ward and up to the fuse box by the steps. He quickly flipped five switches off until the only light left was one in the center where Dick stood.

“Bruce, the world needs Batman.”

For a small moment, the fallen warrior seemed to falter. His mind ran through all the years he fought, all the victories and allies, all the failures and enemies. The life that had been thrust upon him the moment his parents died in front of him. What would they think?

Then it vanished, and all that was left was his pain.

“Never again,” he whispered, before he flipped the main switch, the lights shut off, and the legend died.

[Mischief]

Gotham City Today


“Alright boys, this can go one of two ways. You can either give up and we'll promise to leave your faces undamaged enough for your mamas to recognize you, or you can run... and then we'll water my turf with your blood.”

“We're... we're not scared of you. You're just bluffing. You're not even armed!”

“Guns are so overrated. Besides, if we had guns, there wouldn't be any sport in it.”

Two gangs. Two ideals. One was called Skulls, the name highly unimaginative. The other was The Rogues. Long ago they named themselves that, for what reason they forgot, but it didn't matter what they called themselves.

They were family.

“McGinnis, you're up!”

His name was Terry McGinnis, and he was the main lieutenant. The boss, Charlie “Bigtime” Bigelow, had been his buddy since the fourth grade. Terry didn't mind his leadership though. He wasn't really the thinker of the two.

He was the muscle.

Terry ran up to the four guys and quickly struck before they would have a chance to think. He gave a punch to the gut for the guy who flinched, and a kick to the one with the knife coming up behind him. He started to cough and Terry was quick to smash the back of his hand into the nose of another on the right. The fourth man, who had been hanging back, whipped out a crow-bar and slammed Terry in the face. Falling to the ground was one thing, but having them stand over him with looks of anger, probably with thoughts of revenge on their minds, was what worried him the most.

“You supposed to scare us?”

“No, I'm supposed to maim you. I don't have to scare you....”

“Hurry up and just kill him already!”

“...your mom's face does that for me-”

The swing came quickly, but it wasn't well-aimed. Terry easily caught it and smashed his fist into the guy's nose before swinging the crow-bar wide and getting the other three in the face. Two of them fell and one staggered. Terry swept his feet under his and he fell to the pavement with a loud thud to his head.

Now there were only two and Terry was still facing them alone. He held the crowbar up over his shoulder, gesturing at them taunting them.

“Come on ladies. Some time tonight.”

One of them came up to him, flipping out a small knife, swinging wildly at Terry's face. The guy was too slow though, and Terry was able to catch his hand in mid-flight before twisting around and causing the knife to drop from his grip.

A knee to the stomach was enough to take him out, but Terry slammed his across the temple for good measure. He suddenly felt pressure around his throat and angry breathing behind his ear.

“You're dead McGinnis!” he whispered through a busted lip.

“Naw, you're confused. That's you!” Terry shouted as he did a quick snap of his wrist and the crowbar in his hand busted the guy's knee-cap. His grip loosened enough for Terry to turn and head-butt him into unconsciousness.

They were beaten, but Terry wasn't smiling.

“Not bad, McGinnis! Was that a new record or something?”

“Charlie, what the hell!? How come you didn't let any of the guys help me?!” Terry shouted indignantly as he grabbed onto Bigelow's collar.

“Hey! Don't touch me McGinnis! You did fine didn't you?”

He shoved Terry off and straightened out his jacket. Terry looked around at the small gang, the “family,” and saw few guilty faces. Less than there should have been.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Good, now that you're done complaining like a little girl.... well, Rogues! We now own the entire south side!”

The cheers were large for such a small group of people, but Terry didn't feel accomplished. He looked at his watch and realized the time.

“I gotta go!”

“What, why? We were gonna celebrate with a few drinks!”

“No, I gotta go, I have to meet-” but before he could finish a few members were already making whipping sounds, while others just laughed. Charlie gave him the nod though and that was all that mattered.

He was late. She was going to kill him.

[Mischief]

“I'll kill him! No wait that would be too easy! I'll beat him to a pulp, and then I'll kill him! No wait, first I'll neuter him then-”

“Here he comes...”

Dana Tan turned quickly around to see Terry McGinnis, the best and worst guy she had ever known, running down the street. Even though she was supposed to be angry at him, she couldn't help but have a flicker of a smile at how adorable he looked all panicked.

“Sorry, I'm-”

“You're late! Chelsea and I have been standing in line for two hours without you! Now you come here, expecting us to just let you cut in with us and- Terry, what happened to your face!?”

Before he could bumble an excuse or turn away, Dana reached up to his face and turned his neck to see a swelling bruise on his cheek that looked an angry shade of purple.

She wasn't sure at that moment what she was angrier about now. The fact that he was late, the fact that he had been fighting with that gang of his again, or the fact that he was late because he had been fighting with that gang of his again!

“You're in for it now McGinnis...” Chelsea said heading into the nightclub to avoid the storm that was Dana Tan. Frankly, Dana didn't blame her. She was gonna explode on him this time.

“Dana, I-”

“Again! Again! I asked you, pleaded with you, begged you, not to see that gang anymore! If your dad knew that you were hanging around those guys again, he would be heartbroken Terry! Not to mention how disappointed I am! Do you even care at all?”

Dana was really lying on the guilt heavy with all of this, but nothing else seemed to work with Terry. She couldn't threaten him or yell at him, he had seen too much with that band of thugs of his, so all she could really do with him was guilt.

“Of course I care, Dana. I would never try to knowingly hurt you Dana. You know me! I try really hard, but the guys... they need me, and the Rogues are my home. End of story.”

“What are you talking about!? You have a family that worries about you every night! You know how many times a night your dad calls me, asking where you are? How many times your mom called me when-”

“Well that's not my fault! My mom's a worry-wart and dad's just... stupid. They shouldn't be calling you about me-”

“That's not the point you dreg! I'm trying to say that you don't need that gang because you already have a family that cares about you! Do you know how many kids in this town don't have that!? Would beg to have that!? Terry, don't act like some victim or crybaby, you have a good life, and a-”

Suddenly Dana knew that she must have crossed some sort of line because instead of looking like some kid being scolded by his mom, his demeanor shifted to angry and insulted. Terry was a healthy kid, but as long as Dana knew him Terry had a tendency to suddenly shift moods.

He could be such a girl.

“Hey! Don't act all patronizing and understanding like you know what's going on with me! You don't know that half of what I go through and-”

“Oh don't be such a drama queen McGinnis,” she switched to his last name, that meant she was serious know, “Your life is fine. It's you that acts all demented and dark. No one makes your life harder except for you! I worry about you so much and you-”

“Well, nobody asked you to-” the next moments froze in Dana's mind and she suddenly became aware of the crowd of people that had gathered to all of their yelling, “You're not my wife!”

Dana felt herself overcome with a full blush and backed away quietly, not able to look into Terry's eyes anymore. He knew how she felt about him, for probably longer than she knew herself, and had not returned the sentiment. He wanted to be “just friends” and she had agreed to her chagrin. Maybe he didn't mean to do this to her, but suddenly she felt exploited because of her feelings. That had been a low blow on his part.

It was stupid really, being so affected by a fleeting comment like that, but she couldn't help it. There was a time where Terry was her world, and since High School her feelings had only increased. Now though, she couldn't stand to look at him.

“Right, sorry.”

With that she turned quietly back into the club and ran as far as she could before Terry could try to excuse himself. She could hear him trying to shout back at her but she didn't really want to face him right now.

[Mischief]

Every morning he faced this city, and every day it won. He thought that when he got his promotion he could finally make a difference. Men with power ruled the world right?

He was nothing but a puppet.

He turned around to look at his door, and saw the words, backwards from this side: Commissioner: Steve Avery. He wanted to throw something at it. At least they had gotten the name right.

Six Years ago, Steve graduated from the Police Academy in Opal City, and it wasn't even two weeks later that he got transferred to Gotham. Steve had always been an ambitious person, and he saw Gotham as a step down.

He didn't know the half of it.

When he arrived in Gotham, he found cops who accepted bribes, worked as enforcers for crime bosses, beat minors for misdemeanors, and did things that he didn't even want to think about. Their badges meant nothing to them.

That's when he made a new vow to himself. He could see that Gotham had fallen into an abyss, and it would be his sole mission to bring it back to the light. The first year went well, and he felt he had actually made some progress within the department. Soon he would be in a position to fix some of the more crooked cops.

Then he met Bunny.

Bunny Vreeland was a daughter of big time socialites in the Gotham community, and the only reason he had met her was because of a stupid stroke of luck. She called it “fate.” The girl was rich, pompous, never worked a day in her life, and had no idea of how dirty her city had become. She was a spoiled, naive, little rich girl that made Steve want to punch her out.

They were married in a year.

Ever since then, he met different people and rolled in different circles. He felt guilty for using his wife's connections to further his own career, but she gave him nothing but encouragement. Soon he was slipping, and didn't even realize it. The people, the life, it was all too much.

Then he met Derek Powers the man behind the curtain. If you thought of Gotham, you thought of Derek Powers and his company, and if you thought of the dirtiest guy in Gotham, you would think of Powers and his underground dealings. If Steve was going to ever clean up the city, he would have to take care of Powers; the man who owned half the cops in Gotham, and filled the streets with guns and drugs. The mayor was in his pocket because of the money he brought into the city, and no politician or DA could touch him.

Steve soon realized why. The first time he had even mentioned the possible connection between Powers and a Drug cartel that had happened in his third year with the department, he got put on the graveyard shift for weeks. Powers owned this city. He owned everything.

During his fourth year, some maniac from a Mutant splinter group came to the department and killed twenty good officers. Steve couldn't help but notice that they in truth were “good cops.” Not a single one would think of accepting a bribe or besmirching their badges in any way. It was too... convenient.

After that, Steve pretty much became the only person with the right credentials to get promoted to Commissioner after the old one retired to his summer home in Aspen (how he ever afforded it, no one could be “sure”). That's when it all really started to come down on him.

Steve was sure that as Commissioner he could make some sort of difference. Weed out Powers hand from the Department, but too many were devoted to him, and Steve couldn't tell which ones. Every time he went to internal affairs, the report went straight to Powers, he vouched for the officer, and the charges dropped. Soon, all the bad cops knew he was gunning for them, and all the good ones were too scared.

He had lost all control over his officers. The department was crippled and Powers owned the GCPD completely.

Then Bunny told him she was pregnant, and things only got worse. He begged her to move out of the city, leave everything behind, but God Bless her she wouldn't leave him behind. Soon, anytime Steve tried to make a move, he got the painful reminder that Bunny's parents were good friends with Powers when they were alive. They were warnings and he knew what they truly meant: “Keep snooping, and we may not be able to hurt you, but she stays close to Powers, and that is never healthy. Why risk it?”

Two years later, he would take his daughter to daycare with Bunny, and then head over to the Department, sit in his office, and do.... nothing. He would finalize reports of beatings and rapes, robberies and drug-trafficking, and would just cringe and bear it.

He could do nothing; he was nothing but a puppet.

Long ago, Steve Avery made a vow, a vow to make a difference in this city. To wipe out the filth and bring it back to prosperity. To it give back its hope. Now, six years later nothing had changed and it was going to stay that way.

Who could save them now?

[Mischief]

Warren McGinnis ran as fast as he could, faster than he ever had before, clutching the file to his chest. It was the file that could change things. Save lives, and maybe the city. He was just one man, but if he could even help one person in this city, it would be enough. With this file, he could save hundreds, maybe thousands. So he ran.

The truth of the matter was though, was that even if he was being followed, running would be pointless. They would find him. Since he wasn't dead yet though, he must have been able to escape successfully.

Warren arrived at his apartment and swiftly pressed his palm against the door for identification. The door slid open with a soft ring and he ran up to the second floor. Still running he came to his apartment. He slid the card key through and shut the door behind him as he came in.

“Computer, full security lock-down. Open only for Terry, no one else. Confirm Command.”

“Command confirmed.”

Warren McGinnis gave a sigh of relief as he walked up to his personal computer and finally, after all that running, opened the file. Inside, there were a few photos, a list of names, and a disk. The disk would be the most important part, but the entire file is what would put Powers away.

One hour ago, Warren McGinnis quit his job at Powers Enterprises and took all of his things with him. The projects they were asking him to work on were just going too far. He knew coming in that he would be making some shady deals, but chemical warfare was too far for him. He would never have been able to face himself otherwise.

Still, knowing all that he did of Powers' dealings, Warren knew that they weren't just going to let him go. So he hacked into the security system's back-up files that he had programmed on his first day, and took anything incriminating that he could. He had just expected some odd book-keeping, some safety regulations, or quite possibly some unethical lay-offs, something to keep Powers away from his family, but what he found was something much more devastating.

It was classified as Project: Anti-Body. The name was incredibly misleading though. What Powers was developing was a chemical weapon that would be introduced in a liquid form to enemy water-supplies. To call it poison was a gross under-statement. This thing broke a person's body down at a genetic level. These were modifications to the inner DNA that would re-sequence bodily proteins and make the body deteriorate. Basically it was teaching the body to destroy itself until you were a rotting corpse.

Meta-human studies without government sanction had been banned for decades, but Powers continued his genetic research. At first it was with promises of solving cancer and extending life-expectancy, but soon it devolved into weaponry. Turn a person's genetics against them, and the disk in Warren's hand had all of the details.

The idea would almost be genius if it wasn't so sickening.

Warren plugged the disk into his computer and tried to open the files, but it was locked. The amount of encryption on it was extremely heavy, and the security measures were better than anything Warren had ever seen. It would take him hours to break.

He only wondered if he would have that long to solve it. How long until Powers discovered what he was doing?

“Hey Dad! I'm home!”

Warren turned from his computer to the front door, and saw his son coming in on time for once.

“Well, isn't this a treat? You're actually back home before dawn...” Warren joked kindly as he went to greet his son. As soon as he approached though, he could sense the sour mood. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I was just a jerk to Dana. It was a rough night and.... I'd rather not talk about it.”

“That's alright, I understand. Well if you want, there's some leftovers in the fridge and.... Terry what happened to your face?!”

Terry tried to to run away from him to hide it, but he was too fast for his son and soon saw the bruise on his cheek. It was large, definitely, and practically swelling so it was fresh. From the size, it must have been some sort of blunt object like a pipe or a crow-bar.

“Oh, that. Yeah... I just bumped into a door-knob and-”

“Don't lie to me Terry, you've been hanging out with that gang again, haven't you?”

Warren didn't show any anger in his voice, and he was slightly proud of himself for being able to restrain himself. Really, the fury inside of him was so large that he was practically going blind from it. It wasn't just a saying anymore.

“How many times have I told you not to hang out with that gang? They're nothing but trouble! A ring of no good thugs!”

“You don't understand!” Terry said indignantly. It was true that Warren couldn't understand why Terry felt so connected with that gang. It baffled him. Terry was so much better than them, why did he do this to himself?

“No, I don't understand. Terry, you barely got through your sophomore year because of that gang, and in three months you'll be going to your junior year which is so much more important. If you don't pull your act together, you'll never be able to go to a good college. Don't you care about your future?”

“Dad.... this is Gotham City! I don't know if you realize this, but we live in a freaking rat-hole! Every day I wake up to the sounds of gunfire and Jokerz! There isn't any future in this city! At least with the Rogues I have a chance, a family, and a place to belong....”

Those words were what really hurt Warren. His own son didn't see his home as the place he belonged. Ever since the divorce, Warren had felt Terry drift away from him. And neither one had been able to pull back to each other.

“Terry, I know things have been rough, but you have to try to make the best of our situation. If you don't like Gotham, then the best thing to do is to concentrate on your education. Maybe then you can-”

“No dad! The Rogues is my home, and they're going to be the ones who get me through all of this. This city will go to the pits and we'll survive. I need-”

“Terry please, listen to yourself!” now Warren was starting to get a little angry with this conversation, “You're so much better than that... that... gang! This city breaks people son, but it is salvageable! We just have to keep pulling through. Terry, you can be so much more than-”

“Yeah dad, like I'm going to take advice from you. How is that tyrant Powers doing? Did you get to lick his boots for your paycheck this week?” that one struck him hard, and Terry wasn't stopping, “Face it dad, I'm never gonna become anything because it doesn't run in the family. You're a disgrace, that's why you have to work for Powers and that's why mom left you!”

The room became silent at that.

“That's it. I'm outta here! See ya later, maybe....”

Warren didn't make any movement. He didn't try to stop him; he just tried not to break down. Warren knew that his son wasn't a cruel person and he knew that Terry didn't mean those things, but there seemed like nothing Warren could do. For now, all he could do was hope.

“Come on Terry, you can get through this...” Warren McGinnis whispered to himself in the dark.

[Mischief]

The sun was starting to come down and give the city that light orange color in the sky. This was probably the only time of the day that Gotham could look like any other city. These were the few moments before the city became too dark. The skyline was still visible and the city was less restless.

Terry McGinnis walked down the street in a daze. He felt angry and defiant when he left his home, but now that the adrenaline had worn off he felt like crap.

The things that he gad said to his dad.... none of them were true. Terry knew his father hated Powers just as much as he did, but in this city there was so little opportunity for a geneticist to find work. However, if he didn't need to support a son....

The thing about the divorce, that was partly true, but his dad wasn't entirely responsible. His mother and father were fighting and Terry certainly didn't make the stress any easier on the two of them by coming home every night with bloody noses and broken knuckles. He'd been to the therapist hundreds of times since the divorce and every time they told him not to blame himself, but it was easier said than done.

Terry decided to make a vow to himself. When he saw his dad later tonight (or more accurately tomorrow) he would put his pride in check and apologize. Maybe they could watch a Metropolis Bulldog game on TV. He would like that.

All of a sudden a kid started running down the alley toward Terry. Terry quickly shifted to a fighting stance when he noticed that he recognized the kid. His name was Rich, or Mitch, or something, and he was a new recruit to the Rogues.

He was also bleeding from the forehead.

“McGinnis....” Mitch or Rich moaned as he collapsed at Terry's feet, and said one word that told Terry everything and sent shivers up his spine.

“...Mutants.....”

Terry helped lay the guy down gently on the ground before he collapsed, called him an ambulance on his cell, and then ran. They had to be nearby or he would never find them. Terry knew where the Rogues liked to hang, but if the Mutants already attacked.... he had to be fast.

The Mutants had been in Gotham pretty much since the last Batman sighting and since then they had become legendary.

The Mutants were a street gang like the Rogues or the Jokerz, but they were the worst of the worst. First off, they were better organized than any gang in the city, and no one knew who their leader was or where their base was. They weren't as innumerable as the Jokerz, but there were enough of them for an army.

The general rule of thumb that the cops gave was if you saw a Mutant you run. You run as far and as fast as you possibly can. The mutants were ruthless, unpredictable, godless monsters. They would rape, steal, kill, or pretty much do anything just because they felt like it. The worst part was they seemed to be physically unstoppable. The cops were afraid of them, and there were rumors that the only person who had any control over them was Powers, but even that wasn't a guarantee.

The Jokerz were scum, and they were annoying as hell, but if Terry ever came across a Joker he wouldn't be that worried. The one time he went up against a Mutant, the only thing he remembered was waking up in the hospital for... something.

The first two hangouts he checked were empty, and by the third one he was starting to lose hope, but when he got to the fourth hangout, he knew he was on the right track.

Four guys were splayed across the ground in bloody messes, and the walls had dents in them. Along with the Mutant “Anarchy” mark was sprayed all across the warehouse walls. Hearing the sounds of crashes, explosions, and general mayhem, Terry ran through the already broken window of the warehouse and found four Mutants and twelve Rogues in a gang war.

Terry only had a second to react and move to the left as one of the Rogues was thrown at him and smashed into the alley wall. The guy had blood pouring out of his mouth and his eye looked like it was some weird, infectious green color.

Plus his shoulder was pulled up to his ear.

“McGinnis.... run....”

Terry didn't need any greater prompt than that. Grabbing onto the guy and running the other way, Terry hoped that the Mutants hadn't spotted him already. His heartbeat was loud in his ear, but that might have been the pulse from the guy's shoulder, he couldn't be sure.

Running back the way he came through the warehouse and spotting all the guys he hoped would get help from paramedics, he made a quick call to 911.

“Hey, we got a bunch of bodies on Turner and 32nd, probably from a gang war or something,” Terry said, trying to disguise his voice for good measure and to discourage them from thinking he was part of said gang. He knew how they thought of that kind of thing. “They're in a warehouse, hurry!” and Terry quickly hung up.

The guy Terry was carrying was bleeding into his hair and was a lot heavier than he looked. He could only hope that he was unconscious because if Terry were in his position, he'd be screaming his head off.

Terry thought he heard a few of the Mutants following him along the way and every crash and small noise of the streets startled him every step of the way, but he kept running. Terry didn't remember the last time he had been so terrified.

Terry was starting to get tired now. It was late at night, this guy had to weigh like 230lbs, and Terry wasn't just running, he was frantically sprinting. Adrenaline was pouring through his body and it was probably the only thing keeping him going.

After what felt like hours of running, and his legs aching on fire, Terry dropped the guy in front of the hospital and collapsed right next to him from exhaustion.

[Mischief]

Warren McGinnis was absolutely exhausted. Never before had he ever felt like just dropping dead to the ground from exhaustion but he kept going. The encryption code was almost broken, and soon he would have all the evidence needed to put Powers away forever.

The room was littered with chemical additive drinks, and caffeine boosters, and barely any scraps of food. His notes and scribbles of thoughts and ideas posted all over the computer and across his desk in total disarray. He always scolded Terry for being a slob. Boy if he could see his father now.

The encryption code was so complicated and had so many layers that Warren only got more and more excited the deeper he got into it. The only reason anyone protected something this hard was because they had something to hide something big. The only reason Warren was able to get as far as he had was because of a few custom programs he had invented himself just for this kind of thing and by calling in some favors. He wasn't a computer programmer professionally, but he knew his way around a laptop.

Soon he ran the last program and sat silently, watching the computer think and load. Warren McGinnis was an Atheist at birth, but he couldn't help but pray.

Then the computer gave that confirming ping, and he thought it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard before.

It only took a few seconds for Warren to realize what he was sitting on and how important this could possibly be. He wasn't sure what to do first; prepare the disk for the police, make back-up copies for safety, or go and hurl.

“My God... Powers, you can't....”

“Forced entry at front-”

Suddenly Warren heard the door fall down with a loud thud and turned in his seat to see a large dark colored man, with a large scar running across his eye, standing on the door and a blank look on his face. Warren recognized him from somewhere before....

“Hello Mr. McGinnis.”

Then it hit him. This was Powers' right-hand man, and first enforcer. He just broke down a twelve-level security lock and a three-inch thick steel door with no weapons in hand. And Warren was sitting on top of evidence that could ruin his boss.

“May I have a word?”

[Mischief]

“I say we should just shoot him....”

“No, this is way funnier, trust me....”

“But this guy-”

“Trust me, WAY funnier this way!”

Terry woke up to the sounds of some sort of argument and his arms tied together. He pulled his arms as hard as he could, but it started to hurt. His brain was still spinning and he felt groggy. Where was he? What happened?

“Arrivarderci, good fellow!”

Terry felt the wind in his hair and freer than ever. His hair flew in the wind and it was as if every care in the world was gone and all that was left was floating...

Floating?

SPLASH!

Suddenly Terry was snapped awake and the shock was like a slap to the face. He tried to open his eyes but the water was too dark. With his arms tied to together, it was hard to swim and the wind was knocked out of him.

He was going to drown!

Terry calmed himself down and tried to just allow himself float up to the surface. It was slow, but he got the general direction and swam up, or what he was sure was up, until soon his brain started to hurt and his lungs were burning. He was never going to-

“OH GOD!”

Terry gasped in absolute pain and triumph. He was still alive, barely, but still going. He glanced up and saw a hover-car flying away with the resounding sounds of insane laughter ringing through the air.

“Jokerz....” he whispered scornfully.

Some Jokerz must have found his unconscious body and decided it would be funny to dump it in an ocean at the edge of the city. It was so hilarious that he could kill them.

Swimming up to the shore and facing the rock wall of land, Terry ran the rope behind his back against the rocks in an attempt to break loose. His hands were starting to get sore, and he was pretty sure his back would be heavy with bruises tomorrow, but soon they started to get loose.

Now all he had to do was climb up the rock wall bare-handed.

Just another day in Gotham City.

Pulling himself against the wet and slippery rocks was difficult and his arms were already hurting, but Terry cringed and took it. He wasn't sure if it was hours, or days, or maybe just a few minutes, but every pull on the rocks he was taking his life into his hands. He didn't know if the rock he was grabbing was solid or not, and a few times they gave an uneasy crack as he pulled, but thinking only of survival, and for the second time that night his adrenaline running rampant, Terry made it to the top.

Collapsing in an exhausted heap of limbs, Terry McGinnis dodged death once again that night.

Looking around, he could only see the city as a dark silhouette which seemed to be miles away, and a large castle... house.... thing up on the hill.

“Someone lives here!?” Terry asked himself incredulously.

Finding the last bits of strength to stand up, Terry headed up the hill to the mansion and approached the gate. The buzzer looked ancient and he couldn't figure out how it worked (its voice command module seemed broken) so he decided his best bet was to hop the gate.

Thankfully it wasn't electrified, and it didn't have any guards or anything. He saw a chain next to a dog dish that was so scratched out he couldn't read the name, but the dog must have been inside because Terry still hadn't heard a bark. In fact, he didn't hear anything. Would there even be a phone for him to use?

Terry pulled out his cell, but it was water-logged and didn't look like it was going to be turning on any time soon. His body felt cold and he wondered if he would even make it to the front door before he succumbed to hypothermia. Terry's thoughts were starting to spin a little as he felt all his hunger and fatigue strike at his will at once.

Then he dropped.

Terry fell wildly, what must have been at least a good twenty feet, before he regained his bearings and tucked his body into itself. He fell to the ground with a roll and only suffered a small amount of shock damage to his feet.

“Frag it!” he exclaimed in pain as he lay on the ground.

After a few moments of moaning about the pain in his feet though, Terry realized that he couldn't even see his feet. He couldn't see anything. He was underground in an absolutely dark place with no sounds or anything. He couldn't even spot any light overhead from where he fell.

“Great....” Terry whispered to himself as he got up gingerly and searched his pockets for anything to provide light. Soon he found a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, along with his cell and his credit card.

In a moment of true inventive inspiration, Terry took out the watered-down cigarettes, picked one from the center that wasn't too wet, and ignited it with what must have been the last spark from his lighter. One inhale to brighten the light and soon he had illumination.

“And Dana wanted me to quit,” Terry quietly joked to himself.

Looking around though, his enthusiasm was short lived as there didn't seem to be anything around except for more cave and darkness. Taking a step forward, Terry tried to take a deeper look around, but the more he walked the more he was sure that he was screwed. The light started to die and so he gave another inhale to brighten the end.

At first, Terry stumbled back when he thought he had been caught by whoever lived here, or worse that it was some sort of monster that lived down in the depths. When he got over the shock though, he took another inhale to get better light and realized it was just a costume. Consistent of a mask with pointed ears, long dark cape, yellow utility belt.....

“Holy crap....” he muttered, the cigarette falling to the ground without a sound and the end extinguishing, leaving Terry in the dark again. Stepping forward though, Terry could still see the outline of the suit, and the lights came on.

The suit was in a tall, shimmering, glass case on a mannequin without arms, mask and all, legendary in its presence. Terry looked down to a panel with a small red button, and without thinking Terry pushed it.

Behind him, a hissing sound echoed through the cave and Terry turned to see another glass case, this one rectangular and flat, with another suit in it that looked different. This one had no cape, and there was no opening for the mouth. There was no yellow on it, it was sleeker, and the insignia in the center of the chest was different.

Terry liked it.

“Holy crap, this is the Batcave. This is THE BATCAVE!”

“Hey!” said a voice to Terry's left, and instinctively he turned to it. For a split second saw an old man with a cane swinging like he was going for the homerun, and then-

Black.

[Mischief]

Warren McGinnis was a mess. He couldn't hear out of his left ear and he was pretty sure his arm wasn't supposed to bend that way, but he kept on running because as woozy as his head felt, he knew that if he stopped running it would mean his life. In his arms was every bit of the file he could grab before jumping out the window, but now it was starting to feel heavy in his arms.

He turned down an alley only to find it a dark end. Looking around, he spotted a ladder to a fire escape that he might have been able to jump to under different circumstances, but it was too late.

He was here.

Warren turned to face his tormentor and ran as far as he could before he met the brick wall and could only crumple into a heap. If only he had been faster or more careful, would that have made a difference? What were his last words to his son? To his ex-wife? The pain felt unbearable....

The files were ripped from his hands and Warren looked up to see the large enforcer rifling through them quickly to check what was there. Warren had to admit that the man seemed very threatening, but he could tell this guy was just another thug. Another person who was taking advantage of this city for all it was worth just another lackey for Powers.

“Well, we seem to be done here. If you could just give us the last piece of the evidence Mr. McGinnis, I can be on my way,” he said in a calm manner as if he were conducting regular, everyday business. Maybe to him it was.

Warren panicked; he was so sure he had hidden it well enough. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he groaned, using his pain to mask his panic.

“Oh really? You don't have the disk that was in the file you stole? The one you spent hours decrypting on your laptop? This was the disk that Mr. Powers had been missing. And for practically the same amount of time too?"

Warren was at the end of his rope. He knew he was going to die, and he wouldn't give this guy the pleasure of breaking his will, or toying with him. Warren had more honor than that.

“You can tell your boss that he doesn't scare me.... he doesn't own this city. He doesn't own... me,” Warren stated, making his face show every bit of defiance that was in his soul.

“Oh really?” the big guy asked calmly, a little too calmly for one's health. “I don't think you've thought this all the way through Mr. McGinnis. What about your little ex-wife? Or your sons? Terry? Matt? If you don't know where the disk is, I might have to ask them. Mr. Powers would very much-”

“You stay the hell away from my sons you sick-”

“Mr. McGinnis....” he interrupted calmly, throwing down a picture Warren kept under his pillow of his family, probably the last time they were all together.

Warren sat quietly and contemplated his next move. He knew he was going to die no matter what, and he had some doubts about whether Powers would really send his cronies to attack Terry and Matt, but he couldn't be sure. Warren could take his life into his own hands and risk it, but he couldn't do that with his sons.

Reaching into a hidden side-pocket in the lining of his jacket, Warren tossed the small data-disk in front of the man's feet and felt himself slump further down the wall. The man took a step forward and stomped out all of Warren's hard work in a small crunch. He gave a small sigh and reached into his pocket for something. He pulled out a black glove and slowly slipped it onto his left hand.

“Thank you Mr. McGinnis. Now... you'll get to see why they call me Mr. Fixx. I fix all of Mr. Power's problems in the most... creative ways...” and with one final step forward, the alley lit up in a bright flash of light, and Warren McGinnis was...

[Mischief]

Terry was walking home from the last bus stop and his sour mood was only over-shadowed by his apprehension at getting home at 3:00 in the morning. After he came to, Terry had found himself at the front gates of the mansion and got the hint. He was able to find a bus stop a couple of miles away and after a few hours of waiting, finally was able to use the last of his creds to get a bus-ride home.

He didn't want to hear what his dad would have in store for him, but he was thinking that maybe if he was lucky he could sneak in and his dad would be none the wiser. The one thing that kept popping up in his head though was what happened a few hours ago.

Terry McGinnis had stepped into the Batcave. The Batcave it is the one that all the people talked about whenever they mentioned the Batman. He had seen the Batsuit. The Batsuit! Terry hadn't felt like this since he was a kid. Every time he tried to wrap his mind around it, his heart pounded and his head had started to spin.

Who had been that old man? That couldn't have been Batman, could it? He seemed so old...

Terry's pondering thoughts were cut off though as the night air was suddenly brightened by red and blue lights. He looked up and spotted police cars all around his house. What could the police want with him? There wasn't....

Then he recognized one of the officers who was going in: The coroner.

“Oh, God no....”

[Mischief]

Two months later Terry McGinnis sat (or maybe the right word was “hid”) in his old room. He hadn't been in here for four years and it still looked the same walls, same windows.

It wasn't the same though. It was never going to be the same.

Terry was alone right now, Matt was at camp and his mom at work, and heard the phone ring a few times but didn't feel like answering. They were all Dana anyway. She wanted to talk, she wanted to help, and she wanted to be there.

No one could be there anymore.

Terry felt dead inside, but at the same time something was keeping him going. It was something unrecognizable and something that burned. He felt so angry, but it just fizzled out every time he tried to feel it. There was nothing he could do...

“The report is that the guy had a security malfunction and got electrocuted with it. Makes sense 28,000 volts would do that.”

Lies. The cops there were either idiots or bought off by someone. They tried to sell malfunctions and accidents as the answer, but Terry knew the truth. Nothing had been fried except his father's body. Electricity didn't pick and choose who got hit!

“What are you kidding me? This was obviously purposeful! Look at the scorch-marks! They're all specifically placed. Even. No electric current would randomly hit like that!”

Only one of them seemed to be aware of what he was doing. He wasn't trying to pass off a bunch of bull. He was the commissioner, but it seemed like none of the cops there were willing to take him seriously. They were all crooked. All scum.

“Then how did it happen? You actually gonna have this thing called as a murder?”

Terry knew that someone must have murdered his father. His dad was smarter than anyone Terry had ever known in his entire life. Warren McGinnis would never have been accidentally killed by the electrical wiring of his own security system. Those idiots tried to besmirch his death by selling it off as an accident. They tried to make light of his father's memory, and his father's death.

“I will not let them do that,” Terry growled to himself quietly.

He was sifting through all of the things that had been moved from his old room to his new one, but he wasn't really thinking while he did it. He hadn't felt alive since his father's death.

He had died too.

What had been his last words to him? How could he have said those things to him? Those would always be the last words his father remembered of him. The last thing he would remember of his father....

Terry was done mourning, done feeling pain; there was nothing left at this point. His pain was almost dull against his body now. Why should he know relief? Nothing made sense right now.... his father was dead, nothing could change that. It would always be his fault....

Terry found a picture of his dad and him, smiling and standing together. This was probably a year or two ago before all the ugliness. Except, the picture looked damaged, folded in the frame. Terry tried to straighten it out when something fell out. Something small, wrapped in paper.

Terry opened it and a small data-disk fell out. The paper though, it had his father's writing on it! He unfurled it and looked inside at what could have possibly been his last words. His last words to Terry.

[Mischief]

Terry,

If you're reading this, then it probably means that the people I had been trying to hide from found me. I can't tell you who because if they found this then that might implicate you. The disk inside is a data-disk that will give you all the information you need. It's not completely decrypted, but most of the work is done so pretty much any computer programmer could probably finish it. It will tell you everything you need.

Terry, when I saw you tonight you were so full of rage and confusion. I'm only sorry that I couldn't be a good enough father to help you. Now that I'm gone though, I can only ask of you one thing:

Don't give up.

I can tell by the way you act and look at this city, you don't think anyone has a chance. I want to tell you that this assumption is wrong. Terry, this city has so much strength and beauty in it, I know it does. When I look at you and Matt, and I remember your births, and I think of how proud I am of the men your becoming I swell with admiration. I died fighting to free this city from tyranny and crime, and I wouldn't ever ask anything of you like that, but please, please, don't ever give in. That's the only time this city will truly destroy you. As long as you keep fighting and keep living to the best of your ability, Gotham's ugliness has no power over you. I'm proud of you Terry, and I know you will help this city find its beauty again. Find its honor. I believe in Gotham.

I believe in you.

[Mischief]

Terry finished and read the last few words in silence over and over. Then he couldn't stop the tears from hitting the page. For all he had done, for the number of times his father should have just struck him when he deserved it, his father still cared for him.

Then the rage surged. Someone had killed Warren McGinnis, and Terry wasn't going to stand down and take this. Terry would not let his anger die. He would need vengeance.

He needed Justice.

[Mischief]

Bruce Wayne woke with a start as the internal alarm beeped loudly next to his bed. It wasn't the normal red light that signaled for the mansion though. It was the blue light.

The cave.

Bruce dragged himself out of bed slowly and limped downstairs to the living room. He entered the time combination into the clock face and headed down the staircase for the second time in months. If it was that kid again he was going to have to sick Ace on him.

When he turned the lights on though, no one was down there and everything seemed untouched. The alternate Batsuit case had lifted from the ground, which was odd, but there was something even more alarming about it.

It was empty.