I was feeling kind of bored and just came up with this funny story, in my opinion. So either criticize, comment, or just laugh/cry your heart out.

Disclaimer: This story does not intend to infringe on the copyright of DC Comics.

True Feelings by Casey Toh

"Terry, kick harder!" an over eighty-years-old Bruce Wayne growled to the teenager who now donned the mantle of the Bat, and whom he considered his charge. "Twist your body more. Give it your fullest effort."

Terry McGinnis snapped his leg in half-hearted attempted roundhouse kicks at the heavy sandbag, ready to drop dead. It seemed as if he had been training for hours, and the flu he had came down with wasn't helping things. "Wayne, please. I'm down with a flu, and I'm going to drop anytime."

Bruce felt anger rise up in him. How dare Terry question his orders? "McGinnis! If you want to remain Batman, you do as I say, you understand me?" When the teenager did not answer, he roared, "Do you understand me?!"

Terry winced as Wayne's voice rattled his eardrums. He had had Bruce yelled at him a lot of times, but this was the worst. Ever since he almost got himself killed by Inque a few days ago, Bruce had either made him train till he dropped, or yelled at him to watch himself. "I heard you."

The old man turned on his heels and stormed off, leaving Terry alone in the cave. He crossed the large cave to a stalagmite, slid down to the cold, wet ground against it, hugged his knees to him, and cried.

* * *

Bruce Wayne slumped tiredly onto a couch in Wayne Manor above the Batcave. His heart ached, both physically and emotionally. His outburst at Terry had strained his already weak heart, but the real pain came from having been so short with the teenager.

How long has the kid endured my temper? Bruce wondered. "Over two years," he answered himself. "And through everything, he sill haven't left me or gave up the responsibilities of crime fighting."

After a moment of rest for his tired body, he lumbered back towards the cave.

* * *

Oh God! Terry cried out in his heart. What have I done wrong to earn Wayne's anger? His heart felt as if it was being ripped apart; his soul was filled with emptiness and guilt. Did Wayne not love him anymore?

The echoes of bats' screeches went through the large cave, reminding him just how lonely he was. Ever since his father was killed by Derreck Powers, he had been filled with revenge, and thus had a purpose. Bruce Wayne and the Batsuit were just tools in aiding him in bringing Powers to justice.

After the man had been locked up and paying for his evil deeds, Terry had lost his sense of direction in his life. He began to look at Bruce as a father figure, and soon respected and loved the old man so much he was willing to do anything for him.

Tears slipped down Terry's face.

* * *

The Batcave echoed with a combination of noises: the screeching of bats, the low hum of the Batcomputer, the silent drip of water… and muffled sobbing.

Bruce's heart missed a beat. Had he hurt the boy so much until he cried? Just like how Dick and Tim did? He suddenly felt red- hot anger at himself for hurting another boy, a boy he loved as if he was his own flesh and blood.

"Terry?" he called out softly, hoping that the teenager would appear. No one answered him, but the sobbing ceased instantly. Bruce moved forward to a dimly lit section of the cave, and saw the dim shadow of a human grow from behind a stalagmite. "Terry."

Hearing his mentor's voice so near him, Terry realized he had been found. Knowing that it was useless not answering Bruce, he spoke up, making an attempt to control his shaking voice. "Go away. Leave me alone."

But to the teen's irritation, Bruce approached and sat down beside him. Silence reigned for a moment, then the older man blurted out, "I'm sorry, Terry."

Terry looked sharply at the man in surprise. "What for?" He rubbed his moist eyes tiredly. "I'm the one at fault. I didn't train hard enough and almost got myself killed, and caused you so much worry. Maybe I ought to give up the mantle."

Faster than anything else, Bruce's mind reacted to Terry's last sentence, as did his body. Instinctively, he grabbed the teen's arm. "No, don't."

"Don't what?" Terry knew he was asking the obvious, but he had to hear it from the man himself.

"Don't give up the mantle, Terry." Bruce spoke so softly he had to strain his ears to listen. "I'm imploring you." He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. "I know I haven's been exactly friendly, but I love you Terry, just like my own son.

You brought so much joy into my life with your cheerfulness, quirks, and daredevil attitude. I was blind not to have seen those as attributes, instead of weaknesses."

Terry McGinnis almost had a heart attack. Bruce Wayne admitting his feelings? Was it a trick? Or was it—

"—from my heart, Terry," Bruce was saying. "Ever since Inque almost killed you, I was filled with the fear that I would lose another I love. A son."

"Son?" Terry echoed. His eyes widened as comprehension dawned. "You mean--?" he squeaked.

Bruce nodded. "Yes. Ever since Dick and Tim left, I've started building up my defenses again, strengthening them, until he barged into my life. I didn't want you to wear the suit as I didn't want you to remind me of them, of the sons I've lost.

But," he chuckled, an alien from the older man's throat, "you came along and pulled down every defense I had. You brightened up my life with your attitude. You—

"I brought so much trouble into your life," Terry interrupted his mentor. "Remember how Inque caught me and you had to wear that dammed Bat-armor of yours which almost caused you your life to save me? You risked your life to save me! When I was supposed to ease your burdens!" He laughed bitterly.

"That was in the past, son, when you were inexperienced," Bruce reminded. The funny thing was, he felt as if the words that came out of his mouth were from the bottom of his heart. And maybe they just are, he decided. "Now you are ready for the responsibilities of Batman, and I trust you to take care of things."

Tears came to Terry's eyes again unbidden, which had almost dried by then. He let them flow as he assimilated and appreciated the trust, and most importantly, the love Bruce was showing him, and would be showing him in the future. He suddenly did not feel alone.

Bruce, looking at the teen he had acknowledged as a son, felt his mind transcend the time stream to the time when he was a boy, crying, lonely and helpless because some thug killed his parents. He silently vowed never to allow the Terry to feel the same grief, loneliness and despair he once felt.

Without conscious thought, he reached for the teen and drew the boy to him, hugging the lean body tightly and willing away his tears.

Finally, after a long moment, Terry dried his tears and looked up at the man he had accepted as a father. "Thanks, Bruce."

"No, Terry," the older man corrected. "Thank you." For teaching me how to be human again, to…love again.

THE END