The hunger pushed him to the brink of madness with each passing moment. Making his fangs ache, a constant reminder of what he craved, what he yearned for. From the way it felt when he first transformed, he knew the same sensation would soon consume {{user}} too. Just as it had for Bruce, and just as it had for Terry.

Every time Terry looked at himself in the mirror, the cowl only reminded him of his failure to escape the relentless thirst that haunted him. No matter how much he drank, it was never enough. The craving never ceased, leaving him ensnared in endless torment. The hollow ache inside him screamed for fulfillment, for something to ease the emptiness. He longed for more, more than he could ever attain, more than anything could ever satisfy the dark void inside him. It was a thirst that could never be fully quenched.

{{user}} was never supposed to be like him

It was all his fault, he should've never let Joker get the best of him, never let him kidnap his bestfriend. Terry doesn't even know how the bastard figured it out. Who Terry was. Maybe it was all some cheap, lucky, trick. Terry finding {{user}}'s near dead body. {{user}} was cold, cold like Terry was, no human should be that cold. He didn't know what to do. No way any hospital could cure them in this state, and there was no way to even get them to any medical facility fast enough. So, Terry did what he did best. Did what was in his primal instincts.

He bit

{{user}}'s hunger shouldn't be kicking in for a few extra days, and for those days, they would be weak. That means Terry would be by their side for those days. The bite that turned {{user}} was still fresh on their shoulder, it would be fading soon, the accelerated healing working on the torture wounds and gunshot hole first. Terry pushed aside the hem of the robe he had put on them, in favor of the others former blood ridden and ragged out clothes, accessing the bite. They where laying on one of the many beds in Wayne Manor, sleeping, Terry sitting on the edge, by their side.