“Alfred, I need some patching up,” Batman groaned, entering the Batcave after a long night, “There were six armed punks who I had to stop from robbing a basic convenience store. Wasn’t so convenient for me.”
Silence was the only response.
“Oh yeah,” Batman sighed, unlocking his cowl before removing it, “You’re gone.”
Alfred had left a week ago after an altercation he had had with Bruce. Alfred had begun to worry about Bruce’s safety, and was spouting nonsense about a sinister and dangerous evil coming to destroy Bruce. Alfred had begged Bruce to hang up the cape and the cowl, only for Bruce to fire back about how Batman was who he truly was. Alfred left, not wanting to see Bruce die.
“Gah, Al, if I have to keep stitching myself up, I’ll die anyways,” Bruce grunted, sliding onto the operating table in a remote corner of the Batcave. He took off his gloves, slipped out of his boots, and squeezed out of his suit. Then, he undid the bulletproof under armour that wrapped around his body. He was finally ready to operate on himself. He grabbed forceps, and well as a suture tray. He felt his body, and identified four different bullet holes. Blood was slowly seeping out of each one. Bruce prodded one, and urine-colored pus spread out along with currant-colored blood. Bruce grabbed the forceps, and jammed them down into the hole. He winced as he grabbed the bullet, and tore it out. He grabbed stitches, and sewed himself up. He then repeated the process until his body had no more bullets left in it.
Bruce stumbled upstairs, and phoned Alfred for the eighth time that day. Still, no one picked up.
Bruce sighed. All of his allies were either dead or gone. Alfred had left. Lucius was in over his head at Wayne Enterprises. Luke was in Nairobi. Dick was missing. Jason was dead. Tim was in Central City. Barbara was dead. Jim had grown distant ever since Batman went down the dark, branding path. Oswald was dead. Dominique was in Austin. Oliver was in Star City, and he wasn’t even an official ally.
Bruce needed to see someone. He settled for Tim. Tim had been working on the ITS, or Instantaneous Transportation Stations, and Bruce wanted to see it anyways.
Bruce began to text Tim.
BRUCE: MIND IF I COME TO CENTRAL CITY AND CHECK OUT ITS?
A few hours passed.
TIM: SORRY I DIDN’T REPLY EARLIER. I WAS PLAYING FORTNITE. SURE YOU CAN.
BRUCE: I’M ALREADY HERE.
Bruce stood at the front door to Tim and Tam’s apartment. He knocked loudly a few times. Tim threw open the door, looking haggard. He hadn’t cut his hair in nearly a year. It fell below his shoulders, and crowded his eyes. His white t-shirt hadn’t been washed in just as long. He somehow smelled worse than he looked.
“Good lord, Tim. Take a damn shower,” Bruce coughed.
“No time! Get in here! We brought the ITS here from the warehouse. Now, I’m sending Tam through! This is a big moment!”
“Tim, you sound like a supervillain,” Bruce noted.
“If all goes wrong, I might end up as one,” Tim laughed, maniacally.
“Alright, calm down. Show me the ITS,” Bruce instructed.
Tim led Bruce inside the apartment. It was a disaster. The first room had a box TV and a tattered maroon couch. The floor was a minefield of empty 5-Hour Energy containers.
“Tim, you’re going to kill yourself with these,” Bruce spat, kicking a canister away.
“Doesn’t matter! Look, look!”
Tim pointed into a room that may have once been a kitchen. There were white counters against one wall, full of paper plates. The only other thing in the room was a large ring hovering over a platform.
“Where does this go to?” Bruce asked, intrigued.
“Just the other room,” Tim answered, “We have to start small. I don’t want Tam to end up in Africa only to have the ITS malfunction.”
“Luke could help her,” Bruce pointed out.
“Hush. It’s almost time,” Tim squealed, gleefully.
Tam walked through a doorway behind the ring. She was wearing blue underwear and a pale bra. Bruce raised an eyebrow in disapproval.
“Look, we didn’t want the ITS to have to redirect too many atoms,” Tam scoffed.
“Whatever. Let’s see this in action,” Bruce said.
Tim rushed back out to the entry room, and snagged a bulky silver laptop up off of the couch. He flipped it up, and opened a program labeled ‘ITS’.
“Station Two is ready to go,” Tim stated, viewing energy levels on his screen.
Tam bent down, and punched in a code to the platform that held the ring up. Inside the ring, a light purple hue appeared.
“Station One is operational,” Tim said, “Establishing a connection…”
The three of them waited nervously while the two stations synced.
“Time-Space link achieved!” Tim cheered, “We are good to go!”
“Tam, you sure you’re okay with this?” Bruce asked.
“I already recorded something for my dad in case this goes south,” Tam nodded.
“But it won’t,” Tim assured.
“Here goes. I guess I should say something epic. One of you two want to record this? It seems like it should be documented,” Tam said.
Tim flipped around the laptop, and turned on the face cam.
“Hey. I’m Tam Fox. And this is one giant leap for mankind, but also not, because I’m not going to leap into it. So really, it’s one giant leap for mankind, but only a small step for man. Or, woman. Gah. Damn it! That all came out wrong. Look, just pretend I said something inspirational. In I go!”
Tam stepped into the shimmering purple wall. Then, she vanished.
“Shit,” Tim whispered, eagerly waiting for Tam to call out to them. Soon. She would call out soon.
“Tam?”
“Tam, you good?” Tim asked.
There was no sound, except for the quiet buzzing of the ITS.
“Oh damn,” Tim muttered.
Suddenly, the ITS began to shake.
“This isn’t supposed to be happening, right?” Bruce asked.
“No, it’s not,” Tim said, shaking his head.
The purple wall began to ripple. Then, part of it lashed out at Bruce and Tim. They dove in opposite directions. Tim dropped his laptop in the process. The wall shot back to the other side of the room, as if it were a sling. It kept switching back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“Tim, we need to shut it down before it gets out of control,” Bruce said through gritted teeth.
“Not until Tam gets out,” Tim said.
The wall began to stretch farther. It managed to hit a plate. The plate disappeared in a split second.
“Okay,” Tim agreed, “I can shut it down remotely.”
Tim scrambled over to his laptop, ducking below a blast from the wall. He flipped it over, and saw that it had shut off, and that the screen was shattered. He held down the power, and rolled back to the wall where he would be safe.
“Hold on, it’s booting up,” Tim said, biting his upper lip.
Out of nowhere, the ring containing the purple wall exploded. Spikes of energy now lurched out to the side, taking entire walls away. The apartment began to crumble, and upper floors began to sink.
“It needs to boot up faster!” Bruce warned, dodging a snap from the purple screen.
“It’s on!”
Tim hurried his mouse over to the ITS program. Then, a finger reached out from the purple wall, and tapped the laptop. The laptop dissipated.
“Son of a-” Tim began. Bruce then tackled him away as a blast on energy shot through where he had been sitting.
“Is there a way to turn it off manually?” Bruce asked.
“Of course there is! I’m not a moron! I’ll do it!”
“Tim, don’t get too-!”
Tim lunged at the base of the ITS. His hand slapped the steel slab. He punched in the code to shut the machine down. The energy blasts weakened, until the broken fragments of the ring fell.
Bruce let out a sigh of relief. Tim sat up, stunned.
“She’s gone,” Tim said.
“You just saved the world, Tim,” Bruce replied.
“Tam is gone,” Tim repeated.
“Tim, it wasn’t your fault,” Bruce said.
“I should have done more tests.”
“Tim, you did all you could,” Bruce said.
Tim had indeed run multiple tests on everything from toys to birds to a full sized horse.
“It wasn’t enough!” Tim yelled.
There was a knock at the door.
“We’ll finish this conversation later. Go get the door. I’ll cover this up,” Bruce instructed.
Tim stood up, silently, and walked towards the front door.
Bruce hefted the steel platform that had levitated the ring into his arms. He stumbled into the bedroom next to the kitchen. Inside the bedroom was the second platform, with its ring on the floor. He needed somewhere to put them. Bruce walked around on the creaky floors. An idea hit him. Often times, creaky floors were the result of a gap under the floorboards. Bruce took a sharp fragment of the broken ring, and jammed it into the corner of a floorboard. He pried it up, and saw a pit about two feet deep under the bedroom floor. Perfect. He slammed the floorboard back into place.
Bruce ran over to the bunk bed that Tim and Tam shared. He dragged it away from the wall, then began to pull up floorboards. He tossed both ITS platforms, along with the rings, down into the small ditch underneath. He then fit the floorboards back into place as if they were part of a jigsaw puzzle. He slid the bunk bed back against the wall. He walked back to the living room to see Tim talking with a disgruntled couple.
“I have no idea what happened,” Tim said, monotonously.
“Well you woke up Snickers!” the man yelled.
“I’m so sorry,” Tim said.
“Sirs, I apologize for disturbing you and Snickers,” Bruce said, sincerely, approaching.
The two men frowned upon seeing Bruce.
“What are you doing here?” one man asked.
“Aren’t you supposed to be out with your one-percent cronies?” the other asked.
“This here is my adopted son,” Bruce explained, “He’s been working on a project, and I thought I’d come see it. Guess it didn’t turn out as expected.”
“I’ll say,” the first man nodded, “Poor Snickers won’t stop meowing. She must be terrified.”
“Again, we’re sorry,” Bruce said again, “Perhaps I can refund you for anything broken.”
“We don’t want your money,” the second man spat.
“Very well,” Bruce said. He walked back inside with Tim as the couple began to shout again.
Tim shut the door.
“Tim, we will find Tam,” Bruce promised, “She’s out there somewhere. Whether its here on Earth, or in a world beyond our own… We’ll find her no matter what.”
“Promise?” Tim asked.
“Promise.”
Silence was the only response.
“Oh yeah,” Batman sighed, unlocking his cowl before removing it, “You’re gone.”
Alfred had left a week ago after an altercation he had had with Bruce. Alfred had begun to worry about Bruce’s safety, and was spouting nonsense about a sinister and dangerous evil coming to destroy Bruce. Alfred had begged Bruce to hang up the cape and the cowl, only for Bruce to fire back about how Batman was who he truly was. Alfred left, not wanting to see Bruce die.
“Gah, Al, if I have to keep stitching myself up, I’ll die anyways,” Bruce grunted, sliding onto the operating table in a remote corner of the Batcave. He took off his gloves, slipped out of his boots, and squeezed out of his suit. Then, he undid the bulletproof under armour that wrapped around his body. He was finally ready to operate on himself. He grabbed forceps, and well as a suture tray. He felt his body, and identified four different bullet holes. Blood was slowly seeping out of each one. Bruce prodded one, and urine-colored pus spread out along with currant-colored blood. Bruce grabbed the forceps, and jammed them down into the hole. He winced as he grabbed the bullet, and tore it out. He grabbed stitches, and sewed himself up. He then repeated the process until his body had no more bullets left in it.
Bruce stumbled upstairs, and phoned Alfred for the eighth time that day. Still, no one picked up.
Bruce sighed. All of his allies were either dead or gone. Alfred had left. Lucius was in over his head at Wayne Enterprises. Luke was in Nairobi. Dick was missing. Jason was dead. Tim was in Central City. Barbara was dead. Jim had grown distant ever since Batman went down the dark, branding path. Oswald was dead. Dominique was in Austin. Oliver was in Star City, and he wasn’t even an official ally.
Bruce needed to see someone. He settled for Tim. Tim had been working on the ITS, or Instantaneous Transportation Stations, and Bruce wanted to see it anyways.
Bruce began to text Tim.
BRUCE: MIND IF I COME TO CENTRAL CITY AND CHECK OUT ITS?
A few hours passed.
TIM: SORRY I DIDN’T REPLY EARLIER. I WAS PLAYING FORTNITE. SURE YOU CAN.
BRUCE: I’M ALREADY HERE.
Bruce stood at the front door to Tim and Tam’s apartment. He knocked loudly a few times. Tim threw open the door, looking haggard. He hadn’t cut his hair in nearly a year. It fell below his shoulders, and crowded his eyes. His white t-shirt hadn’t been washed in just as long. He somehow smelled worse than he looked.
“Good lord, Tim. Take a damn shower,” Bruce coughed.
“No time! Get in here! We brought the ITS here from the warehouse. Now, I’m sending Tam through! This is a big moment!”
“Tim, you sound like a supervillain,” Bruce noted.
“If all goes wrong, I might end up as one,” Tim laughed, maniacally.
“Alright, calm down. Show me the ITS,” Bruce instructed.
Tim led Bruce inside the apartment. It was a disaster. The first room had a box TV and a tattered maroon couch. The floor was a minefield of empty 5-Hour Energy containers.
“Tim, you’re going to kill yourself with these,” Bruce spat, kicking a canister away.
“Doesn’t matter! Look, look!”
Tim pointed into a room that may have once been a kitchen. There were white counters against one wall, full of paper plates. The only other thing in the room was a large ring hovering over a platform.
“Where does this go to?” Bruce asked, intrigued.
“Just the other room,” Tim answered, “We have to start small. I don’t want Tam to end up in Africa only to have the ITS malfunction.”
“Luke could help her,” Bruce pointed out.
“Hush. It’s almost time,” Tim squealed, gleefully.
Tam walked through a doorway behind the ring. She was wearing blue underwear and a pale bra. Bruce raised an eyebrow in disapproval.
“Look, we didn’t want the ITS to have to redirect too many atoms,” Tam scoffed.
“Whatever. Let’s see this in action,” Bruce said.
Tim rushed back out to the entry room, and snagged a bulky silver laptop up off of the couch. He flipped it up, and opened a program labeled ‘ITS’.
“Station Two is ready to go,” Tim stated, viewing energy levels on his screen.
Tam bent down, and punched in a code to the platform that held the ring up. Inside the ring, a light purple hue appeared.
“Station One is operational,” Tim said, “Establishing a connection…”
The three of them waited nervously while the two stations synced.
“Time-Space link achieved!” Tim cheered, “We are good to go!”
“Tam, you sure you’re okay with this?” Bruce asked.
“I already recorded something for my dad in case this goes south,” Tam nodded.
“But it won’t,” Tim assured.
“Here goes. I guess I should say something epic. One of you two want to record this? It seems like it should be documented,” Tam said.
Tim flipped around the laptop, and turned on the face cam.
“Hey. I’m Tam Fox. And this is one giant leap for mankind, but also not, because I’m not going to leap into it. So really, it’s one giant leap for mankind, but only a small step for man. Or, woman. Gah. Damn it! That all came out wrong. Look, just pretend I said something inspirational. In I go!”
Tam stepped into the shimmering purple wall. Then, she vanished.
“Shit,” Tim whispered, eagerly waiting for Tam to call out to them. Soon. She would call out soon.
“Tam?”
“Tam, you good?” Tim asked.
There was no sound, except for the quiet buzzing of the ITS.
“Oh damn,” Tim muttered.
Suddenly, the ITS began to shake.
“This isn’t supposed to be happening, right?” Bruce asked.
“No, it’s not,” Tim said, shaking his head.
The purple wall began to ripple. Then, part of it lashed out at Bruce and Tim. They dove in opposite directions. Tim dropped his laptop in the process. The wall shot back to the other side of the room, as if it were a sling. It kept switching back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“Tim, we need to shut it down before it gets out of control,” Bruce said through gritted teeth.
“Not until Tam gets out,” Tim said.
The wall began to stretch farther. It managed to hit a plate. The plate disappeared in a split second.
“Okay,” Tim agreed, “I can shut it down remotely.”
Tim scrambled over to his laptop, ducking below a blast from the wall. He flipped it over, and saw that it had shut off, and that the screen was shattered. He held down the power, and rolled back to the wall where he would be safe.
“Hold on, it’s booting up,” Tim said, biting his upper lip.
Out of nowhere, the ring containing the purple wall exploded. Spikes of energy now lurched out to the side, taking entire walls away. The apartment began to crumble, and upper floors began to sink.
“It needs to boot up faster!” Bruce warned, dodging a snap from the purple screen.
“It’s on!”
Tim hurried his mouse over to the ITS program. Then, a finger reached out from the purple wall, and tapped the laptop. The laptop dissipated.
“Son of a-” Tim began. Bruce then tackled him away as a blast on energy shot through where he had been sitting.
“Is there a way to turn it off manually?” Bruce asked.
“Of course there is! I’m not a moron! I’ll do it!”
“Tim, don’t get too-!”
Tim lunged at the base of the ITS. His hand slapped the steel slab. He punched in the code to shut the machine down. The energy blasts weakened, until the broken fragments of the ring fell.
Bruce let out a sigh of relief. Tim sat up, stunned.
“She’s gone,” Tim said.
“You just saved the world, Tim,” Bruce replied.
“Tam is gone,” Tim repeated.
“Tim, it wasn’t your fault,” Bruce said.
“I should have done more tests.”
“Tim, you did all you could,” Bruce said.
Tim had indeed run multiple tests on everything from toys to birds to a full sized horse.
“It wasn’t enough!” Tim yelled.
There was a knock at the door.
“We’ll finish this conversation later. Go get the door. I’ll cover this up,” Bruce instructed.
Tim stood up, silently, and walked towards the front door.
Bruce hefted the steel platform that had levitated the ring into his arms. He stumbled into the bedroom next to the kitchen. Inside the bedroom was the second platform, with its ring on the floor. He needed somewhere to put them. Bruce walked around on the creaky floors. An idea hit him. Often times, creaky floors were the result of a gap under the floorboards. Bruce took a sharp fragment of the broken ring, and jammed it into the corner of a floorboard. He pried it up, and saw a pit about two feet deep under the bedroom floor. Perfect. He slammed the floorboard back into place.
Bruce ran over to the bunk bed that Tim and Tam shared. He dragged it away from the wall, then began to pull up floorboards. He tossed both ITS platforms, along with the rings, down into the small ditch underneath. He then fit the floorboards back into place as if they were part of a jigsaw puzzle. He slid the bunk bed back against the wall. He walked back to the living room to see Tim talking with a disgruntled couple.
“I have no idea what happened,” Tim said, monotonously.
“Well you woke up Snickers!” the man yelled.
“I’m so sorry,” Tim said.
“Sirs, I apologize for disturbing you and Snickers,” Bruce said, sincerely, approaching.
The two men frowned upon seeing Bruce.
“What are you doing here?” one man asked.
“Aren’t you supposed to be out with your one-percent cronies?” the other asked.
“This here is my adopted son,” Bruce explained, “He’s been working on a project, and I thought I’d come see it. Guess it didn’t turn out as expected.”
“I’ll say,” the first man nodded, “Poor Snickers won’t stop meowing. She must be terrified.”
“Again, we’re sorry,” Bruce said again, “Perhaps I can refund you for anything broken.”
“We don’t want your money,” the second man spat.
“Very well,” Bruce said. He walked back inside with Tim as the couple began to shout again.
Tim shut the door.
“Tim, we will find Tam,” Bruce promised, “She’s out there somewhere. Whether its here on Earth, or in a world beyond our own… We’ll find her no matter what.”
“Promise?” Tim asked.
“Promise.”
