Chapter Text
Terry starts awake with a jolt as something heavy slams down beside his head, adrenaline shoots through his body as his mind categorizes the noise as a threat and urges him to act. As his eyes fly open, dry with lack of sleep, and quickly sits up preparing himself for a fight, Terry feels a hand on his arm and turns. Dana? At the pressure on his arm and the sight of Dana calmly sitting next to him, Terry’s heart rate slows, no longer pounding in his ears, allowing him to notice a stern voice talking. Shifting to face the voice and preparing to push Dana behind him to protect her, Terry’s brain finally began to process the voice before him.
“-innis, how many times must I remind you that class is for learning, not sleeping.”
Slag it! Terry was at school, and he had once again fallen asleep in class. Once again aware of his surroundings and the lack of an immediate threat, he relaxes in his seat and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before responding to his teacher. “Sorry, Mr. Morton, I had a rough night last night, it was an accident,” Terry says in a groggy voice, hoping that Mr. Morton would let it go with just an apology.
“This is the fifth time this week, Mr. McGinnis. I’m sorry, but I can’t let it go this time. I am going to notify your parents. Hopefully, they will force you to sleep at night instead of in my class.” Mr. Morton says sternly as he hands Terry the file for his mother to scan. A groan of defeat tumbles out of Terry’s mouth as he slips the file into his backpack. At that, Mr. Morton turns back to the class and continues teaching.
A tired hand reaches up to rub at his gritty eyes before falling to rest in his lap. Now that the adrenaline has faded, all of the pain it had been disguising brings itself to Terry’s attention as his body protests from his nap at his desk. His knee is throbbing from a sprain, and his cracked ribs, already on fire from his previously slumped position, scream in protest with every inhale. Exhaustion already settled over his body feels almost heavier after the minuscule amount of sleep he just got from his nap, as if his body is now aware of how little sleep he’s been getting and begging him for more.
At that moment, the comforting hand on his arm, which he had been unknowingly leaning into in an attempt to leach every bit of comfort out of it he could, rubs slowly over his bicep before sliding down to grasp his hand.
“It’ll be ok.” Dana whispers to him reassuringly, “Your mom will understand.”
While correct, Terry is unsure when he will even see his mom next to give her the file. With his dad gone and Terry moving in giving her an extra mouth to feed, money has been extra tight forcing his mom to get a second job in order to keep up, even then they were barely scraping by at the moment, and though Terry had his ‘job’ with Mr. Wayne, as a guise for his activities as Batman, he was being paid very little and had been resorting to other means to earn more money for his family. Dana though had no idea of how tight money had been recently as Terry had purposely kept it from her.
“You’re right,” Terry whispered with a sigh, turning back to the front, effectively cutting off the conversation.
As night falls over Gotham, Terry trudges up the steps of Wayne Manor. His body is protesting every movement, still sore from non-stop patrol. He’s not exactly sure why his head hurts at this point. It could be from dehydration, lack of sleep, the hits from patrol, or the constantly growing pile of responsibilities and stress. Where will dinner come from tomorrow? Will Matt be able to stay in school? Will Terry be able to stay in school? When will he see his mom next? Where is he going to get the money to bridge the gap between what’s needed and what they have at home?
He sluggishly descends the stairs of the Batcave, intending to check on his injuries before patrol. As he reaches the bottom and turns towards the cabinet full of bandages, a deep, angry voice calls out. “McGinnis! Where have you been!”
Terry sighs, mentally preparing himself for the verbal tornado about to come his way. He turns towards the old man slowly, so as not to aggravate his ribs. The old man is hobbling towards him, using his cane to wave viciously at him rather than using it to help him walk.
“Busy, Mr. Wayne.” Terry replies, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice.”Had to watch Matt again. Mom had to pick up an extra shift, Max was busy and couldn’t watch him, and I had homework, so I thought-” Wayne cuts him off.
“Both of whom are counting on you to protect them, and you can’t do that if you’re ‘busy’ focusing on the wrong things!” Wayne snaps, narrowly missing Terry’s head with his cane. “Batman has a mission: protect Gotham and its people. Gotham needs Batman.” Terry bites his lip.
“But my mom needs me.” He mutters. Wayne continues waving his cane around, and Terry sits himself gingerly on the medical table, out of smacking range.
“Your mother will have no needs at all if she’s dead!” Wayne growls. “And neither will you, baby brother, or your little friends.” Terry sighs, his gaze falling. His chest tightens, regret squeezing tighter; his mind spinning with the endless list of people in his life he keeps letting down, which has just grown infinitely longer at the inclusion of all of Gotham simply because he can’t stop making all the wrong decisions.
“I know…” He trails off. Wayne stalks closer.
“Chin up and eyes front. You’re not a Robin. You’re Batman. You can’t afford to make mistakes and curl up in defeat when you do. You move on and don’t make the mistake again . Learn. Adapt!” Terry glances up, swallowing hard as his eyes begin to burn.
“The…robins?” He asks, knowing fully well that he’s pushing his luck, but every second of luck-pushing done in the cave is a second he’s not out on patrol and stressing his poor ribs. “What were, uh, what did they do again? Like, how was Robin different from Batman?”
Immediately, Terry can see the change in Wayne’s stature. His shoulders shrink and his neck turtles inward just enough to be noticeable. He lowers his cane and places both hands on the head, looking Terry right in the eyes with a gaze so crushing Terry’s ribs start to ache all over again.
“Robin was Batman’s partner.” Terry blinks at the change in Wayne’s gruff, angry voice. It’s so faint, so subtle, that Terry wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t been specifically looking. “He was young. Innocent. They all were. Robin was the light to Batman’s darkness. He brought hope to Gotham. He was a bright light that Batman could never be, but it was always exactly what Gotham needed. He comforted victims and laughed in the face of danger. Never was there a Robin without a joke.” A smile Terry had never seen before makes its way onto Wayne’s face. He looks almost… fond? A small but sharp thought enters Terry’s mind.
Why can’t he look at me like that?
Wow. Since when did Terry care what Mr. Wayne thought of him? They’re business partners, that was all. It didn’t matter if Wayne never smiled at him. It was inconsequential if Wayne never looked at him with anything more than disdain. Wayne needed him to be Batman, and that was it. As soon as he was no longer useful, Terry would be kicked to the curb. He doesn’t need Wayne’s approval, and he certainly doesn’t need any fondness.
Suddenly, Wayne’s back goes ramrod straight, and he returns his gaze to Terry, his eyes once again harsh, and Terry knew the moment had ended. Lecture time. Hooray.
“Robin could afford to bend. Batman can’t. You can’t. You are not a Robin, you’re Batman. Either start acting like it or go home.” With that, Wayne turns sharply and hobbles over to the computer. All he throws over his shoulder is an order to suit up and get out.
“Gah!” Terry couldn’t keep the gasp off his lips as the goon manages to slam a wooden plank into his side before he could block it. The goon goes to swing again when Batman’s hand comes up to catch the makeshift weapon, stopping the blow, but a bat swings into his back by another goon Batman had missed while focusing on the first. Instinctively, his arm comes down around his midriff to cover it when he stumbles away.
“Hey, old man,” Terry grunts. “I really don’t think patrol tonight was a good idea-“ Bruce’s angry voice cuts him off.
“Unless you are bleeding out or actively dying, you don’t miss patrol!” Terry fights the urge to roll his eyes. Batman doesn’t roll his eyes, but Terry does. But he’s not Terry right now. He’s Batman. Batman, not Robin.
Off-handedly, Terry wonders what kinds of things Bruce used to let his Robins get away with; were they allowed to turn in early? Oooh, did Bruce let them bring snacks on patrol?
He’s snapped out of his musings of a traffic light munching on peanuts by another violent smack to the face with that damned wooden plank. In a burst of rage, Batman rips the wooden plank out of the goon’s grasp and breaks it over his knee. Batman growls and launches himself at the goon, punching him hard in the chest. The goon bends over as the air is knocked out of him, wheezing. Batman grasps him by the head and slams him into his knee, knocking the goon out just as the other one swings again, this time aiming for his head. Dodging the swing, Batman grabs the goon by the arm and launches him into the wall behind him.
Panting slightly, Terry straightens, his ribs screaming at him as the movement causes his muscles to pull on them. Looking at the scene in front of him and the ten or so goons that are lying scattered across the alley, Terry reaches into his utility belt with a sigh and starts to bind up the goons. He leaves a note for the commissioner and calls the police. Then he slowly makes his way back up to the Batmobile to continue his patrol. As he arrives at the car, his vision wavers for a second as a feeling of lightheadedness sweeps over him, urging him to eat and sleep and provide for his very much human body , but Terry ignores it with a shake of his head and hops in. Glancing at the clock, Terry realizes that it is now 2:30 am and is about to ask the old man if he can call it a night when he hears a scream and, with a sigh, Terry follows the noise.
Terry is in a rush. It is now 3:45 and he has to get to the corner of 16th and 7th. Mom and Matt need the money, but if he’s too late, no one will be there. He skids around the corner and continues to sprint, his breath scraping and burning his throat. 3:50! Shit! He’s not gonna be able to make much tonight before he’s gotta get back home to get Matt ready for school.
At 3:55, he finally arrives, out of breath and shaky, and leans up against the lamp post on the corner, taking deep breaths, he readies himself for a client. The only other girl on the corner, a small girl about a decade older than him named Tessa, shoots him a pitying glance. All Terry can do is offer a thumbs-up. Just then, a man strolls around the corner. When he notices Terry, his stride lengthens, and he walks directly to him. Tessa ducks into the alley just at the sight of him. Doesn’t take a second glance to see why. Even Tessa has pride. But not a family to provide for.
“Ya hear fer some money?” The man croons at him right in Terry’s face. A little bit of spittle spews across Terry’s face, and he fights back a wince. The man is dirty and has a foul odor about him that makes Terry want to gag. His clothes are dirty, and chunks of food are still stuck in the man's beard from whenever he last ate.
Terry’s heart sinks. This one’s gonna suck.
You need the money. His brain replies unhelpfully. Terry bites back all his pride and nods. “What do you want?” He replies. The man leans closer.
A disgusting smile spreads across the man's face, revealing his yellow teeth. “Just the full experience from a lovely fellow like you.” He responds, drawing a shudder as one of his fingers traces the edge of Terry’s jacket. “How much would that cost?”
Vomit spews from Terry’s mouth into the toilet. He had done it and had gotten a ton of credits out of it, but the man was horrible. He was the worst that Terry’s had in the two years he has been doing this since his dad died. Just thinking about it forces him to gag again, causing even more vomit to splatter into the toilet. He doesn’t have much in his stomach though as it has been upwards of 12 hours since he ate last so mostly water and bile come up but as he glances in the toilet he can see the thick white fluid he has also brought up triggering another series of gagging even though nothing is coming up.
As he finishes, he stands up and uses some toilet paper to wipe his mouth before throwing it into the toilet and flushing. He exits the stall and walks up to the sink, avoiding looking in the mirror as he hears the voice of the man in his head telling him how pretty he is and what lovely lips he has. Terry gags a little, then harshly turns on the sink and splashes some of the cold water onto his face. Cupping his hands together, Terry brings some water to his mouth to rinse it out, then shuts off the water. Terry leans his hands against the sink and sighs before straightening up and heading out of the bathroom. As he exits the gas station, he pauses to check that he still has all the credits he just earned, musing to himself about how the older clients always pay more, even if it is definitely disgusting.
Terry checks his watch and sees that it is 4:45. He still has time for one more client tonight.
6:00. Terry arrives home, immediately getting into the shower. Between the scalding water and the violent scrubbing, his already colorful skin takes on an angry shade of beet red. It takes several minutes of scrubbing his entire body before he even begins to feel human again, and by that point, the water starts to run colder. Terry reluctantly climbs out of the shower with a shiver and dries himself off. After quickly wrapping his ribs, Terry reaches into the cabinet drawer and pulls out the cover-up he stole from his mom back when he first became Batman, and uses it to cover the bruise on his face that he had received from the goon earlier that night, he wouldn't want anyone to notice the injury and ask questions. After he is sure that you can't see the bruise, he dresses for the day. He has an hour to do homework before school, but he resigns himself to not finishing it all before class.
7:00. Terry wakes a sleepy Matt and starts getting him ready for school. Mom is still sleeping, having gotten off around 3:00 according to her shift schedule. His mom needs to eat breakfast before she returns to work in a few hours, and Matt needs to eat before school, so when Terry picks up the barely filled container of cereal, he elects to forgo breakfast and pours Matt a bowl.
8:30. Terry hugs a grumpy Matt goodbye and drops him off. He shoves his hands in his pockets and heads to the high school. The lack of sleep last night just makes his achy body heavier and harder to move, but Terry pushes forward. Gotham is counting on him. His Family is counting on him. He’s Batman; he can’t afford to make any more mistakes. No one else is going to die because he isn’t there.