Gotham's Story
By the time you arrive at the gate, the boy is on the ground. The Jokerz are distracted and don't expect you to approach them. You lift your cane and swing it against the skull of the biggest man. When he falls down unconscious, you finally have the attention of the rest of the group. A girl holding an oversized hammer, swings at you, but you duck and sweep out her legs. Two of the boys try to attack you from behind, but you continue the turn so you can side kick one in the chest and deliver an uppercut to the other's jaw. The final two were quicker to learn and had already abandoned their friends. You see their exhaust curling into the air down the road.
With a heave, you help the boy off the ground.
"Get up young man."
"Ugh," he moans in pain. "Thanks for the help. Y'know, you're pretty mobile for an old man. Who are you?"
Eyes forward and his arm over your shoulder, you respond gruffly, "Bruce Wayne."
"Wayne!" he exlaims. "THE Bruce Wayne? As in Wayne-Powers?"
You don't want him to get too worked up. He's heavy enough as is. "Listen kid-"
Pain rocks your body.
You scream out in pain.
In your stupor you barely realize that you have fallen on the ground. You see the boy standing over you and yelling. Gosh he's loud, but you can't seem to make out any of his words. You're too distracted anyway. You have to rmember something. Something important...
"...Yne! Mister Wayne! Shiz man, get up!"
Medicine. That's it. You forgot to take your medicine and exerted yourself too much. You look around. Somehow, you are in side the mansion.
"P-pills..." you cry out, though it sounds like a mumble.
"Medicine! Of course Mister Wayne!" The boy cries out. "Where is it?"
The Cave. There on the computer desk. You give him directions to the place. You are sure that he can get there easily.
He returns in moments, or perhaps hours; you are having trouble keeping track. You feel the hard, bitter taste of the pills in your mouth followed by a rush of revitalizing water. As you feel the rush of the medicine's healing power, you slip into a fast sleep...
***
You awake with thin light streaming into your study. You are laid out on a couch with a blanket covering you from the chest down. You see the boy in the opposite couch with his head in his hands. You can't seem to remember his name- because you never asked for it, you remember. A flood of memories and realization comes to you.
"What is your name?" Your voice is raspier than you'd like, but it is still spoken with authority.
"Terry!" the boy jerks his head up as if he had been asleep or deep in thought. "Terry McGinnis."
"What do you know?"
Terry hesitates under your harsh gaze.
"Not much, I suppose-"
"The truth!"
"You-you're Batman?" It comes off more as a question, than an answer.
You sigh. "I was," you confess. "Not anymore. Gotham has no place for me now. What you see down there are just relics."
"But you are THE Batman!" Terry exclaims, jumping out of his seat. "You may have been gone for ten years, but they play old news footage all the time and the holodramas about you are totally schway!"
"It's not worth it anymore, McGinnis."
"Of course it is! Gotham is known for it's Batman, you can't have one and not the other. Besides, you are needed. You saving me last night is testament to that."
"No!" You cut him off. "The Batman is dead. I'm too old to take that mantle again."
"Well," he replies dejectedly. "Someone has to." With one last look, he leaves the mansion.
That catches you off guard. Of course someone has to, you think...
No.
Not an option. Think of the training it would require. They would need to know Gotham, the police force, the criminals. While Terry could do it-
Terry could do it.
Can you even think that? Terry certainly has the ability and the spirit, but can you live with yourself if another life falls under your tutelage? Then again, he is correct. Batman was made to be a symbol, unkillable. It wouldn't matter who wore the mask. Perhaps it is time to let Batman rise rom the ashes again...
With a heave, you help the boy off the ground.
"Get up young man."
"Ugh," he moans in pain. "Thanks for the help. Y'know, you're pretty mobile for an old man. Who are you?"
Eyes forward and his arm over your shoulder, you respond gruffly, "Bruce Wayne."
"Wayne!" he exlaims. "THE Bruce Wayne? As in Wayne-Powers?"
You don't want him to get too worked up. He's heavy enough as is. "Listen kid-"
Pain rocks your body.
You scream out in pain.
In your stupor you barely realize that you have fallen on the ground. You see the boy standing over you and yelling. Gosh he's loud, but you can't seem to make out any of his words. You're too distracted anyway. You have to rmember something. Something important...
"...Yne! Mister Wayne! Shiz man, get up!"
Medicine. That's it. You forgot to take your medicine and exerted yourself too much. You look around. Somehow, you are in side the mansion.
"P-pills..." you cry out, though it sounds like a mumble.
"Medicine! Of course Mister Wayne!" The boy cries out. "Where is it?"
The Cave. There on the computer desk. You give him directions to the place. You are sure that he can get there easily.
He returns in moments, or perhaps hours; you are having trouble keeping track. You feel the hard, bitter taste of the pills in your mouth followed by a rush of revitalizing water. As you feel the rush of the medicine's healing power, you slip into a fast sleep...
***
You awake with thin light streaming into your study. You are laid out on a couch with a blanket covering you from the chest down. You see the boy in the opposite couch with his head in his hands. You can't seem to remember his name- because you never asked for it, you remember. A flood of memories and realization comes to you.
"What is your name?" Your voice is raspier than you'd like, but it is still spoken with authority.
"Terry!" the boy jerks his head up as if he had been asleep or deep in thought. "Terry McGinnis."
"What do you know?"
Terry hesitates under your harsh gaze.
"Not much, I suppose-"
"The truth!"
"You-you're Batman?" It comes off more as a question, than an answer.
You sigh. "I was," you confess. "Not anymore. Gotham has no place for me now. What you see down there are just relics."
"But you are THE Batman!" Terry exclaims, jumping out of his seat. "You may have been gone for ten years, but they play old news footage all the time and the holodramas about you are totally schway!"
"It's not worth it anymore, McGinnis."
"Of course it is! Gotham is known for it's Batman, you can't have one and not the other. Besides, you are needed. You saving me last night is testament to that."
"No!" You cut him off. "The Batman is dead. I'm too old to take that mantle again."
"Well," he replies dejectedly. "Someone has to." With one last look, he leaves the mansion.
That catches you off guard. Of course someone has to, you think...
No.
Not an option. Think of the training it would require. They would need to know Gotham, the police force, the criminals. While Terry could do it-
Terry could do it.
Can you even think that? Terry certainly has the ability and the spirit, but can you live with yourself if another life falls under your tutelage? Then again, he is correct. Batman was made to be a symbol, unkillable. It wouldn't matter who wore the mask. Perhaps it is time to let Batman rise rom the ashes again...