Terry never thought of being Batman, as he still fully believes now, but it was incredible. He was the knight of the night, he was just being a normal young man, but being Batman when he was needed was simply the best, what he didn't count on was that Bruce had done something in his past, now he has to be a kind of babysitter and guide, but now someone more trustworthy will be in charge of the Wayne company.

She was Bruce Wayne's ex-wife, a beautiful woman, she still was, apparently Bruce had locked her years ago in a hibernation capsule, he had kept her with the youth and joy that characterizes her. The soft hum of the deactivated hibernation equipment still lingered in the air, and the faint smell of preservative chemicals mixed with the aged wood of Wayne Manor. But it was years ago, before Terry was born, before Bruce released that information, before a tragedy happened. The room felt both familiar and alien, with vintage furniture covered in white sheets like ghosts of a past life.

She is now here, sitting on the bed, where once it was only hers and Bruce's, now it is only her. The mattress still held the indentation of two sleepers though only one now occupied it. A void, the stain of her youth remained, but at what cost? At the cost of not living her love with Bruce. Terry stared at her, she was identical to the painting Bruce had in the studio, the same eyes and the same look that he said. The afternoon light streamed through the curtains, casting golden bars across her motionless form.

"Well... I imagine Bruce had his reasons, don't worry, I'll help you adapt" Terry promised as he looked at her with a smile, hoping to ease the tension between the two. His gloved hand hovered awkwardly in the air, halfway to a comforting gesture he wasn't sure he should complete.