Commissioner Gordon called Terry's mother and told her that Bruce had been injured and that as soon as Bruce was out of surgery, that Terry would call. It was a cover of course. Bruce's leg had been neatly bound in a caste within an hour of Barbara half dragging, half carrying him up to the reception hall proper.

It was only after the hall had been covered in blocking tape and most of the security officers, those that hadn't been a part of Penumbra's treachery, had gone to sleep off the nightmare, could Batman retreat to his Cavern in the shadows.

Barbara was there when he returned, as she'd dosed Bruce with the medication the doctor had proscribed for him. She'd slipped it into his tea and made the tea extra strong so his sensitive pallet wouldn't pick up on it right away. He'd caught it faster then she would have liked and he wouldn't be asleep for long, but it had worked fast and had forestalled the lecture poised on his lips.

The first sight of Terry would stay with the former Batgirl for the rest of her life and occasionally crept into her nightmares, those that sported a Tim with green hair and a pale face. The change in Terry wasn't as physical or as mental, but just about.

He'd lost a lot of blood and she was pretty sure if it hadn't been for the Batmobile's response system that he wouldn't have made it at all. He pulled himself out of the cockpit and collapsed on the cave floor. Much as she'd done for Bruce hours ago, she took most of his weight, which wasn't easy with her own aches and pains, and levered him to the old examination table.

There she managed to lift the upper half of the batsuit from his body. The pain must have been torturous, but he barley winced. His cobalt eyes, usually filled with mirth when outside of the suit, were now dull and empty. Shocked, his mind hadn't had the strength to recover from his recent ordeal.

She cleaned his gun shot wound, that had nestled in the spot between his breast bone and clavicle, and bandaged it away. All the while she waited for him to make some sort of joke about the treatment. He did it because he knew that it drove the old man insane and he did it because he also knew it gave Bruce life, a fire.

It felt like Terry's fire had prematurely winked out.

"Bad things happen, kid," she said after a moment and brushed away an unruly lock of hair from his bruised face.

"Not on my watch," he finally spoke. His tone was haggard and strained. There was a shuttered expression in his eyes, a look that she remembered from the times where her and Bruce had been getting to close and he'd sounded the retreat signal.

"On everyone's watch. People die." He winced then and closed his eyes as his body gave an involuntary shudder. "Like I said, kid, bad things happen."

He nodded and went silent as she disinfected the ugly laceration on his calf. Again, his thoughts had taken him away from his body and the pain. "This was personal, Barbara."

"Not aimed at you kid," she reminded him gently.

His ebony eyebrows raised up on his forehead. "No? It felt pretty personal to me."

"That show was for a ghost, Terry. A ghost, a memory, Bruce's legacy."

The kid shivered again and his gaze turned inwards. "That kid? He going to suffer Bruce's legacy?"

"Maybe it's time to lay aside the pain of the past," she told him. "Let the Bat rest, McGinnis."

"You never wanted me out there, did you? Not even when I saved Sam's life or yours? You wanted to bury it all away. Why?"

She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "You live in the shadows long enough, kid, they swallow you up. I decided I didn't want to be its latest snack. It almost ate Tim, but you saw that. I stepped out into the light and found I liked it. You might try it yourself, kid."

"I can't go out there like I did before," he asserted.

Barbara nodded, letting him have his defeat with dignity. Relief coursing through her. She turned back to his cut.

BATMAN-BATMAN-BATMAN-BATMAN-BATMAN-BATMAN-BATMAN-BATMAN-BAT

Bruce found the young man outside of the batsuit with his spare t-shirt and jeans on. Bruce, himself, had been confined to a chair with a hover capability the same as the Batmobile but on a lower grade, and glided down the staircase leading down to the cave with more ease then he had in years.

When he came to the base of the cave, his eyes flickered around in the darkness. And settled on the glass case that commemorated those who had fought by his side. Terry was putting the mask on top of an old dummy and stood back.

"What made you stop, Bruce?" the kid asked.

It wasn't the first time Terry had asked, but it was the first time Bruce felt he owed the boy an answer. "I broke my own rule. I picked up a gun in self defense."

"So this...," Terry trailed off.

"Is why we do what we do."

Terry didn't respond.

"Or is it?" Bruce persisted.

"I think...I think I got complacent. It got to be a routine." He snorted. "I mean Dana hasn't threatened to come down here and give you a piece of her mind in a long time." The humor was there but it had lost its spark. "It wasn't easy. But it was predictable. I knew my enemies Bruce and I was comfortable."

The boy gave his head a sharp shake. "I can't do this anymore, Bruce. Not anymore. I tried and I failed. And...well...things are going to have to change."

As usual, Bruce kept his tongue silent.

"I need to be more. I need to be everything you were. Everything you were before the suit that let you fly." He walked to the old cape and cowl suit, put his hand to the glass. "It's time I get to work."

So ends commencement, but look out for the next story in Legacy.