Inside Ted’s gym, the ex hero looks around, the crowd now having left. He hangs up a pair of boxing gloves. He then looks over at a newspaper article. “The Justice Society disbands,” was the headline.
Yeah, that wuz the plan, wuzn’t it? We protect this country during the war and what did the government do? Turn away from us. They outlawed “mystery men”. After our return, most of us stayed retired. I opened this gym, and for awhile, resurrected Wildcat. Didn’t last. Gotham needs help, but I’m not the man to supply it. Maybe by helpin’ the kids, I can influence the future.And Ted turned from the newspaper clipping and saw Drakon standing in the gym’s entrance.
“Hey, pal. We’re closed.”
Drakon said nothing.
“Ya hard a hearin’?”
“I wonder, Mr. Grant,” started Drakon, “why would the heir to the Wayne fortune be interested in visiting you?”
“Wayne? I never met the guy,” Ted lied. Doubt the kid wants his dirty laundry in the public domain.
“Do not insult my intelligence, Mr. Grant.” Drakon stepped in and looked around.
“I’m gonna haveta ask ya ta leave.”
“You can ask,” Drakon told him.
Ted grabbed Drakon on his shoulder, and Drakon, without warning, flipped Grant and pinned him on his back.
“Watch yourself, Mr. Grant,” stated Drakon, holding two fingers to Ted’s kneck, preparing for a killing strike. “I’m out of your league.”
“Let him go,” a voice echoed throughout the gym.
Drakon grinned.
“Wrong,” Ted told him as he flipped Drakon off of him, “you’re outta my league.”
Drakon got back on his feet in an instant. “Mr. Grant, I don’t believe you want to do this.”
“Jackass, I don’t believe you know who you’re dealin’ with,” and Ted gestured with his hand for Drakon to approach.
“Likewise,” stated Drakon and in an instance he was almost airborne.
Ted was ready, but it wasn’t enough. Drakon came down, kicking Ted in his jaw. As Drakon touched the floor, he brought his other leg up to Ted’s gut, then the next one swept Ted’s legs out from under him.
As Ted fell on his back, Drakon stepped on his chest. “Next time, know who you’re dealing with, Mr. Grant.” Drakon then turned to leave, but saw a figure in the doorway.
“You aren’t going anywhere.”
“It is not yet time, Mr. Wayne. You are far from ready.”
“Kid... forget it...” Ted groaned.
“You should listen to the wannabe.”
But Bruce stood his ground.
“Very well.” Drakon moved into a fighting stance.
“Drakon, no,” was shouted in Drakon’s ear through his communicator.
Drakon sighed. “Another day.” With that, Drakon leapt inhumanly high and crashed through the skylight to the roof.
Bruce ran from the doorway to where Drakon had been. “How...?”
Ted gets over to Bruce, limping slightly. “Dunno. He wuz lookin’ fer ya, kid.”
Bruce raised his eyebrow. “His name?”
“Dinnit say. Too fast fer me.”
“Woulda killed me... but didn’t.”
"Yeah, looks like ya made an enemy.”
Bruce just stared up at the skylight.
“Look, kid. Ya need ta learn ta defend yerself, but I doubt boxin’ will help much.”
“Yer only my first stop, Mr. Grant.”
“Kid, I know ‘bout yer parents. Revenge isn’t the answer.”
Bruce looked Ted dead in the eyes. “It’s not revenge, Mr. Grant. I seek to ensure no other child has to suffer what I suffered. It’s not revenge. It’s justice. I’m sure you’d understand that.”
Maybe this could become the thing that Gotham really needs. “Alright, kid. Meet me tomorrow at noon.”
****
