Willoffire123: As you all know, I don't do short stories. I do obnoxiously long adventure tales that don't finish for at least 5 months.

Terry: Then what's this supposed to be?

Willoffire123: A short story.

Terry: But you just said-

Willoffire123: I lied.

Terry: Do you own Batman Beyond too?

Willoffire123: Nope! My ownership of Batman Beyond is also a lie. On with the…I can't say chapter, it's only one chapter! WHAT DO I DO TERRY?

Terry: On with the show?

Willoffire123: Works for me!

Terry

Darkness is something I've learnt to get used to. But this? This is that darkness I've grown to despise. The darkness filled with painful voices of regret, loved ones screaming for my help, an occasional image of Dana, or Max, or my family being swallowed up by the darkness. Yeah, this is the darkness I really hate.

"How is he?"

Good. It's about time they showed up. The darkness was as horrible as ever, but now I wanted to go back to the real world. To my friends, to Dana, to my family, to school, and even to my job. The very job that will undoubtedly put me back into the darkness.

"Not good. He took the full brunt of the explosion. Are there any victims?"

"No, he got them out of the building before Mad Stan blew the place to smithereens."

"He's not going out on the streets again for at least a month."

"A month Bruce? Have you stopped to look at this kid? He looks like he needs to be put on bed rest until he's my age."

"Now you're exaggerating Tim"

"Well, I proved my point, didn't I?"

Okay, this isn't going in a good direction. Better stop this before I'm confined to the darkness for God knows how long.

I forced the light to appear, and dissolve the darkness, the darkness being replaced with the dingy light of the batcave. So basically, more darkness. But this darkness was more familiar, and slightly more pleasant. Bruce, Barbra Gordon, and surprisingly enough, Tim Drake were conversing in hushed tones over by the super computer.

Tim Drake caught my gaze, and leapt backward in surprise.

"Don't you think that was a bit over-dramatic?" I chuckled, stopping abruptly when I heard the sound of my own voice reverberating round my head. My voice sounded like rusty nails on a chalkboard, made worse by the echo happening in my head.

Bruce approached the supercomputer-generated medical machine that was hooked up to a stick tube thing coming out of my arm.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," he grunted. Wow, I couldn't remember a time when he had ever sounded so emotional.

I winced, a new bout of pain bursting in my head, making my ears pop. "How long was I out for?"

"Nearly two weeks," said Barbra, coming to join us. "How are you feeling, kid?"

"Fine," I lied, wincing again at a new pain wrapping itself around my chest, and crushing me like a boa-constricter. "What happened?"

"Mad Stan happened," said Bruce, typing in a command on his machine. "Building, hostages, explosion. Ringing any bells?"

"Does it count if I remember screaming and fire?" I asked hopefully, only to receive a concerned glare.

I attempted feebly to stand, only to be pushed back again by Barbara.

"Easy kid, you're in no condition to even lift a pinky right now," she warned.

I sighed. She kind of had a point; my attempt to stand sapped me of all my energy. "Did everyone escape?"

"Yeah," said Tim Drake with a weak chuckle. "Everyone except you."

"Slag it," I cursed under my breath. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in here for a month. Then again, I couldn't move, no matter which way I looked at it, or how hard I tried. "Where is he now? Mad Stan."

"My men rounded him up," said Barbra. "He was knocked out by an aftershock of the explosion. I found you, located the Batmobile, and brought you back here before anyone could discover you."

"Thanks," I croaked, still frustrated at how little of this I remembered.

Tim handed me a phone. "You should call people," he said very vaguely.

I looked blankly at the phone for a minute before Bruce helped me out.

"Your Mom would be a good place to start," he said. "She's been told you were involved in some sort of gang attack, and that I have my doctors keeping you under observation. Then you are going back to sleep."

I thought for a moment, then dialed my home number. Well, at least I could still remember that much.

"Hello?" answered the phone.

"Mom?" I asked, not quite sure if I wanted to know what was coming next.

I heard a gasp come from the phone. Then, "Terry? Is that really you?"

"Yeah. Um, I know I've been gone for a while. And I'm sorry for making you worry. I-I'll come home as soon as I can," I said, cracking up a little bit. Two weeks of no Terry isn't good. Mom would either be livid, or relieved.

"Oh Terry, I'm so glad you're okay!" she cried. "Mr. Wayne told us what happened, and he said we can't see you, and he said you'd be gone for a while, and…You scared us Terry. Me, Matt, Dana, Max. But I'm just glad you're alive! And-"

"Mom!" I interrupted. Her words were already swirling around in my brain, making my head pound even more furiously than before. "I have to go now. But I'll see you and Matt soon."

"Promise?" asked a new voice: Matt.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Later twip." I hung up.

"Well that went better than expected," Tim said optimistically.

"You get two more calls, then you're done," ordered Bruce.

I knew whom I wanted to call, but I was afraid to do it. I dialed Dana's number anyway.

"Hello?" came Dana's voice from the other end.

"It's me," I said nervously.

"T-Terry?" she stuttered. "Where have you been? You haven't been in school for two weeks! You don't answer my calls, and when I went to your house, your Mom and Matt wouldn't tell me anything! You better have a good explanation for this," she scolded.

"There was a Joker attack at Wayne's meeting place," I said, now feeling absolutely exhausted. "I've been out of it for a while, but Wayne's doctors said I'll be fine really soon. I have to go now, but I'll see you tomorrow at school right?"

"Terry," Dana said in her 'I wish you would sleep more so you were less idiot-proof' voice. "Tomorrow's Sunday."

"Oh," I said. Has Commissioner Gordon always had an identical twin? "Well, I'll see you on Monday then. I love you."

"I'm glad you're not dead McGinnis," she said teasingly. "See you at school then."

Okay, one more to go. Time to call Max.

"Terry?" came Max's voice after the first ring.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked incredulously. This wasn't even my phone.

"Skip it McGinnis. I saw the news report. What happened with Mad Stan? Have you been knocked out this whole time? Have you called Dana or your Mom yet? Where are you?" she rattled off, her loud voice adding to the already unbearable pain building like a gas bomb in my head.

"I have no idea what happened; I can't remember a thing. I'm at Wayne's, I just woke up," I said.

"If you're that badly hurt, you need a real hospital Terry," she said, now concerned.

"I don't like hospitals," I growled, black spots blossoming in front of me. "I have to go, I'll see you on Monday."

"McGinnis! Go to the hospital!" she cried exasperatedly before I hung up.

Tim took back his phone. "We'll leave now. Get some rest kid," he said, winking. He and Commissioner Gordon got up and left without another word.

"Sleep," ordered Bruce. "It works wonders for concussions."

"Don't need to tell me twice," I mumbled, the darkness having already taken me.

Terry

When I next woke, Bruce was gone, and I was feeling a lot stronger. I even managed to push myself into a sitting position in my bed.

"Computer, what day is it?" I asked, glad that my voice sounded decidedly clearer.

"The day is Monday, 8:15 AM, 2040," answered the computer.

15 minutes before my first class started. Perfect timing.

"And just where do you think you're going?" demanded Bruce from the entrance to the batcave as I slowly pulled on my clothes, my entire body throbbing, and my head spinning round in circles.

"To school. I have to keep up appearances don't I? People will have already started asking questions," I said, slinging my backpack over my good shoulder, and ascending the stairs to the entrance.

Instead of knocking me out with a tranquilizer and strapping me to the bed, which is what I expected him to do, he stepped aside.

"Then you should get a move on; your ride's outside," he said.

Normally, I would be very suspicious, and even more scared at that moment. What was the catch? Was he planning on dragging me back to the cave once I reached school? Or worse, was he trying to get me sent to a hospital?

But my brain was still kind of cloudy, so I thought nothing of it.

Just as Bruce said, my bike was waiting for me outside the gates. With that, I sped down the street, the cold air stinging like an open wound.

Or maybe that really was an open wound…

Max

"Are you SURE he said he didn't need to go to a hospital?" Dana asked for the umpteenth time.

"YES," I said, glancing around to make sure that our Human Psychology teacher hadn't arrived yet. "He made it perfectly clear that he wasn't going to a hospital."

"What's this about me going to a hospital?" asked Terry.

I shook my head. "Always with the last minute entrance, huh?"

"I try," he said, dropping his backpack next to his seat.

"TERRY!" shouted Dana, crushing him in a hug, and making the room go quiet.

"Dana, my ribs are already broken. Can you lay off the hug?" Terry asked through gritted teeth.

Dana let go. "Oh my gosh Ter, I'm so sorry. But why are you here? You look terrible! Are you positive you don't need someone to take you to Gotham General?"

Terry scowled as he sat down in his chair. "Positive. I hate hospitals."

Dana opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher walked in. 10 minutes late, I might add.

"That's enough, students," said the teacher. "My apologies for being late. Now then, we left off on Friday with our Lab. You and your partner should have finished it and turned it in at the end of class on Friday. Today we will be continuing our studies of comparing the difference between how a child's mind works, how a teenager's mind works, and how the shift of mentality happens. Now then, I have a diagram here on the board. As you can see…"

I'm usually good with taking notes while teachers drone, but I was busy worrying about Terry. He looked white as a sheet, and he was squinting at the teacher. Definitely not good signs.

After school we all went to the Cheese Pit to grab some pizza.

"Okay McGinnis," Dana said after ten minutes of Terry staring off into space while she and I did all the talking. "You're obviously not eating your pizza. So spill: what happened to you? We need details."

Terry didn't answer.

"Terry?" I asked soothingly, so as not to startle him. "Are you sure you won't go to the hospital?"

Terry blinked, then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Sorry guys. I guess I am still a little out of it. But I'm fine, really. I definitely don't need to go to the hospital."

"What is it with you and hospitals?" Dana asked. Oh here we go.

Terry

"Hospitals feel like a confinement from the rest of the world," I explained. "The place looks and smells like death, AND the doctors there ask too many questions. What I was doing when I was injured is none of their business," I muttered darkly. "It's not like I can remember it anyway…"

"All the same, you're badly hurt," said Max. "Whether you like it or not, you need to go to a hospital."

"And whether you like it or not, I'm not going to a-"

I never finished my sentence. For at that moment, every injury that had ever been inflicted on me decided all at once to remind me of their existences. Screams filled the cheese pit, most likely attracting an unwanted crowd.

"Terry!" called Dana urgently. At least, I think that's what she said. I was having a little trouble functioning at the moment.

"I'm calling 911," I heard Dana tell Max.

"Don't!" I heard Max say. "I have a better idea."

That's the last thing I heard before I was yet again, taken by the darkness.

Terry

I woke to a bright light shone directly at my eyes.

"How are you feeling?" asked Bruce with a smirk.

"Terrible," I groaned. "You knew I'd wind up back here before the end of the day, didn't you."

"It was just to prove my point," he said, still smirking. "You could either stay here and recover, or get up without my permission, and end up being shipped off to the hospital by either your mother or your girlfriend. I had Max call me as soon as you passed out."

"So no hospital?" I asked.

"No hospital," Bruce confirmed. "Now get some sleep."

No hospital. That was all the information I needed my brain to register.

"Thanks," I uttered before entering a dreamless sleep, completely devoid of hospitals.

Willoffire123: Well?

Terry: Well…what?

Willoffire123: I WASN'T TALKING TO YOU. Well what did you guys think? I wrote this idea that I had floating in my bank of thoughts that have nothing to do with what I'm really supposed to be doing (a.k.a. studying for exams). Don't forget to hit that favorite button. Follow if you really want to, but the story's already over. And most importantly, but apparently the hardest part for you, REVIEW!

Willoffire123:…Please?

Terry: Until next time!