Part One | Part Two| Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve|
Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen
Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen
Gordon pulled into Wayne Manor's driveway, towards the woods that surrounded the back of the mansion. He looked at the clock on the radio, only four thirty; he still had a good half an hour until he was to meet with Dick. Gordon felt it would be best if they brainstormed together to come up with an idea that might get through to Wayne. Gordon was a bit disappointed when Dick reported back the other day that his words had basically gone unheeded by Wayne. It was just one more sign that Wayne had lead himself down a twisted path he wasn't likely to get out of easily. It almost meant that Wayne was likely to do something he would really regret.
Dick was a smart young man, Gordon hoped he had more ideas than he himself had right then.
Gordon looked at the passenger seat at the envelope laying. He was wary to open it; it meant his job could be taken away forever, but at the same time Stephens did say it was important and was risking his own job to give it to Gordon. Just exactly what was it? Gordon reached over and picked it up, feeling the weight of the it. It wasn't too heavy, but weighed enough to show there was a lot of information in there. Gordon opened the envelope and pulled out the papers, and began to read them, shuffling through each piece, and growing more disgusted and annoyed as he read each page.
A man he had thought they put away for good in Blackgate, calling himself Deadshot, had escaped a few months back and was never seen again. No one thought anything of it – until now. The stakeout Stephens mentioned was noted in the papers and the recording they had been able to obtain through bugging the warehouse was transcribed into written form. News had gotten around that Gotham's own Bruce Wayne was Batman and the mob, having a not so good relationship with Batman, now wanted Wayne dead. They were also aware that Wayne was in Arkham and that getting him out wouldn't be easy, so they hired an assassin to play two roles: to convince the city officials that Batman was needed (thus excusing him from Arkham and assassinating him) and to finally get rid of a few of those officials that had been on the mobs ass for years: Garcia and Gordon.
It wasn't the first time that Gordon had been a target of Deadshot's, but it was definitely the first time he'd be targeted for actually doing his job. And Garcia? Not the first time for him either, but never by the mob, directly, and never by Deadshot. It didn't bother Gordon so much to know he was targeted, it bothered him that the mob was out to kill Batman once and for all. With the vigilante's real identity known it would be much easier to take him out in public. But not if they didn't get him out of Arkham.
Conflicted now, Gordon put the papers back into the envelope. They really needed to get Wayne out of Arkham for the playboy's own sanity, but now it seemed best to at least keep him in there until they could do something about Deadshot. But how? Last time Batman was the one to take him down and bring him in. They didn't have that luxury this time. What he needed to do was warn Garcia, but that wasn't going to go well. Gordon needed to call Stephens and have Lieutenant Essen, who would be acting Commissioner by now, let Garcia know of the danger he was in. Until then, Gordon to watch out for himself, there was really no telling when he'd be targeted and there was definitely no Batman this time to keep him safe.
Gordon could take care of himself. He'd done it long before Batman and he could do it now. Of course, he'd never dealt with an assassin alone, but first time for everything.
He picked the envelope back up and placed them under his seat, just in case. He still had a few minutes before Dick and Alfred would be back from meeting with Wayne's lawyer. It had been a long day – a tediously long day. Gordon was still brooding over the fact that Garcia even had the nerve to put him on suspension for something so trivial. Gordon knew that Essen could do the job just fine, but she was still fairly knew to Gotham and he just wasn't sure she'd be able to handle all the little quirks about the city. Garcia would regret the decision, Gordon knew, within a week. That was why he wasn't all that worried.
Gordon stepped out of the car, locking it behind him as he closed the door. It was quiet out, the sounds of the night starting to creep into the late afternoon as the sun started to set behind the grove of trees behind the mansion. The soft sounds seemed to still for a moment, and Gordon thought vaguely that it felt too quiet. Surely his ears were deceiving him. He'd never been wrong on this before and he knew it wasn't his hearing going – it was an instinct. And that was when he saw the little red laser dot pointed at his chest. Lovely, he thought as he didn't even think twice about what he had to do next and started to run towards the grove of trees.
Deadshot was an excellent marksman and rarely missed his targets, but Gordon had escaped once before and he could damn well do it again. He needed to lose himself in the forest so obscure the man's line of sight. So Gordon ran a little further, nearly falling down a steep trail, tripping over his own feet. He lost balance for a second and his glasses fall, possibly somewhere on the ground. There wasn't really any time to look for them now. He kept running.
And just when Gordon thought he might have done the job, he felt a sharp pain against the side of his right ear, bringing his hand up to the side of head to hold it. A lucky shot gone wrong, but still nicked him, nonetheless. Gordon pulled his hand back, looking at the amount of blood. Damn. He didn't havetime to sit and think about it, Deadshot was probably more than aware he had missed. Gordon started to run again, well hobbling really since he twisted his ankle. He heard footsteps behind him, quick and even, like running.
That wasn't like Deadshot, he rarely went face-to-face with his victims. Gordon turned his head back, aware this could be the last breath he ever breathed. In a blur he was tackled to the ground and the sound of another shot whistled past him and the figure holding him down. He tried to look to see who it was, but without his glasses it was pretty useless to try and even guess.
“Stay down,” a male voice whispered, and Gordon was sure now that it was Dick. The man stood, and Gordon grabbed for his arm.
“Where are you going?” Gordon asked, he didn't need someone dying on his account. Dick pulled his arm away from him, waving him down again.
“Just stay here, I'll be back in a minute,” Dick answered, crouching low between the trees and then sprinting into another run. Gordon didn't see him after that, but minutes passed and there was no other noise. Gordon had had enough waiting, if he was going to be killed he might as well get it over with. He stood, walking back towards Wayne Manor. Dick was walking towards him as he reached the gravel driveway. He took Gordon's hand and gave placed his glasses in them.
“Uh, thanks,” Gordon grunted as he placed the glasses back on the bridge of his nose. He could finally saw Dick more clearly now, and Alfred, too, who was standing looking rather worriedly at Gordon. Dick smiled at him, his hair had been pulled back into a small ponytail and neatly brushed, he had shaved a little, too, it seemed, and was dressed in a nice black, fitting suit. The kid cleaned up well, Gordon had to give him that. Hell, he looked even younger than before, if that was even possible.
Alfred was quickly at Gordon's side, examining the small nick on his ear, making a little 'tsk' as he did. “Into the house with you, you'll need that taken care of.” Alfred placed a hand on Gordon's back and started to lead him to the house, Dick following at their side. Alfred sat Gordon down on a stool in the kitchen, pulling a first aid kit from the counter under the sink. He started to swab Gordon's ear with the disinfectant.
Dick stood close by, hands crossed over his chest. “Who was that guy?” he asked, the question directed to Gordon. Gordon raised his eyes to meet Dick's. Gordon thought for sure he would see question in the other man's eyes, but instead there was a lot of concern he wasn't expecting.
“An assassin, goes by the name Deadshot,” Gordon started to explain, cringing when Alfred hit a nerve with the alcohol. Alfred mumbled some sort of apology and Gordon went on. “I wasn't expecting his hit so soon.”
“Hit?” Dick asked, glancing at Alfred to see if he knew anything about this, but the butler merely shrugged his shoulders.
“He was hired to kill Garcia and myself. Apparently I'm first on the list. It's all an elaborate attempt to have the elected officials of Gotham let Bruce out of Arkham in order for Deadshot to kill him. Batman hasn't made a very nice impression on the mob and they will stop at nothing to rid of him,” Gordon said. Alfred finally put a bandage on his ear, the best he could really. Gordon smiled at him despite the conversation. “Thanks.” Alfred nodded.
Dick sighed deeply. “I wish I had been able to catch him then. By the time I got to him he was gone, nothing left behind but a few empty rounds.” Dick started to pace the room, obvious that he was trying to think of something. “Well, then we just don't allow them to let Bruce out. I know we've been working towards that, but if that's what they're expecting, then we can't.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Gordon said, nearly mimicking Dick's sigh. “It won't happen anyway. When Garcia get word of this, he'll have more protection than anyone. Not to mention he'll never let Bruce out, he's dead set on that never happening. At least not by his hand.”
“What do we do? Are we at a standstill? Is there a point in continuing to try to get through to Bruce now?” Dick seemed hopeful, as if he really wanted to continue even though the odds were really against them at the time. Gordon nodded.
“Yes. At some point we'll get past this whole situation. We've caught Deadshot before and we'll catch him again. At that time, we put our focus back on getting Bruce out of there. Until then I think we still need to continue the visits, continue to show him we believe in him.” Gordon wasn't sure if any of that made sense, if Dick would understand where he was coming from or not. The younger man nodded with a quirked up smile.
“Yeah...” Dick said simply, the look in his eyes showing that he was already devising some new plan. The phone rang then and Alfred answered it, and there was a few moments of silence in the room. Alfred placed the receiver back into the cradle. He looked at both men and shook his head.
“That was Arkham. They called to inform me that Master Wayne was put into solitary confinement.” Gordon looked to Dick who was already looking at Gordon for an answer to what they should do next.
Gordon just wasn't sure.
-----
To Bruce's very surprised they let him out a few days later. He was forced to still wear the straight jacket and was taken to a different cell on another floor, away from the Joker. Bruce didn't ask about the clown and no one offered any information. Bruce tried not to think about it, because when he did he could feel little inklings of that rage trying to seep into his thoughts. No, he had more control than that, he was better than that.
He felt better than he had in nearly two weeks now. Everything was so much clearer, his actions more defined and precise. He cooperated with the doctors, talked with the guards, using his playboy skills to butter them up. People were starting to treat him a bit differently in here, as if they were starting to see that maybe he wasn't insane or as crazy as they had assumed. Okay, so he nearly killed the Joker, but rumor had started going around that the Joker started it and even asked for it. No one was even blaming Bruce anymore.
It was all working. The lying, the facade, everything Bruce had picked up over the years on winning people over with impeccable charm was finally coming in handy for more ways than he ever thought he'd have to use them for.
A tap at his door and Bruce turned his head to see his regular guard entering the room. He pulled Bruce to his feet and began to unstrap the straight jacket. “You don't need this,” he said, unwrapping Bruce from it. “You have visitors.”
Bruce nodded, stretching his arms above his head and then bringing his wrists down to be cuffed. The guard wrinkled his forehead in thoughtfulness and shook his head, taking Bruce's arm and leading him to the visiting area. He opened the door for Bruce and let him walk inside. Bruce was expecting Gordon and Alfred, maybe just Alfred and Dick, but he didn't expect Dick and Gordon, together. It felt... weird? Yes, weird, to see them together.
Bruce sat down and Dick shook his head at him. “Solitary confinement, Bruce?”
Bruce shrugged. “I bit of a mishap. Nothing my witty charm and good looks couldn't get me out of.” Bruce felt his spirits begin to lift, a banter session with Dick had been long over due, and he felt that just maybe this might give in the extra gumption to keep going.
“Yeah, if that's what you wanna call it,” Dick retorted, grinning at him. “I thought it was more along the lines of 'stupidity'...”
“Shut up, Grayson,” Bruce said with a huge smile on his face, leaning back into his chair. It was then he let his eyes drift over to Gordon, who looked like he ran through hell and back. The older man wasn't looking at him, he merely let his gaze wander the room as if he felt a bit out of place. “Jim?”
Gordon's gaze finally met his and for a long moment there was nothing said between them, and Bruce felt a pang of guilt roll through his body. He had put this man through so much in the past two weeks, and he didn't once give up on Bruce. Gordon was there when Bruce fell apart, there when he rage let go, there to stop him, there to be anything Bruce needed him to be. But why? Sure they shared a few moments of intimacy during both their weaker moments, but was there anything past that? Bruce realized that he hoped that there was, because with the way that Jim Gordon's eyes raked him over just then, he wanted nothing else than to embrace him.
Damn shame for the glass between them and the eyes watching.
“Did you do what they said you did?” Gordon asked finally, regaining his own thoughts.
“You mean the Joker?” Bruce asked, and he saw both Gordon and Dick nod their heads. “Yes. I mean, I tried. I didn't kill him. I couldn't and I don't think I'd be any saner if I had.” Bruce leaned forward and pointed the next bit to Dick. “What you said to me the other day finally set in after they locked me in by myself. I finally got what everyone had been telling me.” Then to Gordon. “I'm so sorry for everything I said, the way I acted.” Bruce wasn't someone to apologize easily, but he knew in this situation he had to, for the sake everyone else and to move ahead.
“Sometimes it just takes a few words,” Dick said, motioning to Gordon. “It was his and Alfred's idea anyway. You think I would be here just for jollies if they hadn't asked me to come help?” There was that sarcastic tone again. Bruce shook his head.
“You were always such an asshole,” Bruce replied teasingly, shaking his head just slightly.
“I learned from the best.” Dick leaned back into his chair nonchalantly, and gave Gordon a look to continue on with whatever else it was they came for.
Gordon raised his eyebrows at Bruce. “I'm really happy to see you are in better spirits. It makes what I have to tell you a little easier and I know that your response and input will be valid and trustworthy.” He paused, catching Bruce's gaze again to be sure they were on the same page. “There is a setup by the mob to get you out of jail by trying to convince the city officials and GCPD to let you out. That Gotham needs Batman. I don't want you to panic about it or think that you need to do something. I just want you aware of it.”
“Why would the mob want me out, Jim?” Bruce asked, he had a feeling of what the answer would be, but hearing the words would make it more real.
“They want you dead. Remember Deadshot? He's been hired to assassinate Garcia and myself. In doing so it will bring chaos to the streets and people will start thinking that maybe Gotham needs Batman after all. You get out and they kill you. Them knowing that Bruce Wayne is Batman, Deadshot could do it any time.” Gordon explained. Bruce watched the worry overcome the older man's face, and it was then that Gordon turned his head slightly and Bruce the bandaged wrapped ear, likely a fault from an almost attempt on his life.
“You know,” Bruce started to say as he scratched his chin. “This might work out to benefit us.”
“What do you mean?” Dick asked as he scooted forward again, to hear Bruce better.
“What if we give them Batman?” Bruce suggested and both Gordon and Dick stared at him as if he had completely lost it again. “Just hear me out. This will work and it will help everyone.”
-----
Gerard Stephens walked with Mayor Garcia up the steps of Arkham, keeping in step with him. Sarah Essen had assigned him the job of 'protecting' the mayor since they gave Garcia the news about hit that had been placed on his head. Garcia wasn't surprised and he was even less surprised about the similar hit on Gordon. Stephens knew that it didn't change Garcia's mind though, Wayne had hit his limit the other day with his outburst towards the Joker, and Garcia was far from backing down now.
They walked the hallways down to the cells and Garcia had stopped to talk to a group of guards. They had heard how three guards had been severely hurt during Wayne's attempt to kill the Joker, and Garcia was not pleased to hear that the guards were so poorly trained to handle the situation. Stephens wasn't really surprised, Wayne was Batman after all, and not a lot of people ever got away from Batman unharmed.
But Garcia had his plans, his ideas and Stephens was starting to see just how corrupt the man had been become. Gotham needed Batman and Stephens didn't think Wayne was insane at all.
“I want every man here trained for combat within the next month. This sort of incident is not going to happen again,” Garcia was saying to head of the medical team. The woman nodded patiently and Garcia made a disgusted face and left, gesturing for Stephens to follow. He whispered to the detective when he was close enough. “Be sure we get our best trained officers down here to oversee this.”
Stephens nodded. “Yes, sir.” They walked the halls of the holding cells, and Garcia finally came to a stop at one of them, peeking his head into the small glass window. He looked over at one of the guards by the door, motioning for him to unlock the door.
“Sir, he isn't cuffed, I don't know that that is a good idea,” the guard said warily, but the mayor waved off his concern. The guard nodded and unlocked the door. Stephens watched as Garcia entered the cell and stared down at Wayne, who was merely looked up at him with calm, reserved eyes.
“Mister Mayor?” Wayne asked. Stephens noticed there wasn't even a hint of anger or regret in Bruce's tone, just a easy going smile.
“No doubt you've heard the recent news, I'm sure Gordon has been by to tell you. I just want to let you know that no matter the outcome and no matter how hard the city gets hit, I'm not letting you out. I will not allow it. This city survived without Batman before, it will survive again.” Garcia put his hands on his hips, pushing back his coat a little. If he was trying to intimidate Wayne, the younger man didn't show it.
“I don't doubt it,” Wayne said. “ But I don't know why you're telling me this. It has nothing to do with me.” Stephens raised an eyebrow, what exactly what Wayne trying to pull here. Or better yet, what plan did he set up with Gordon?
“Don't fuck with me, Wayne. You know exactly what I'm talking about and you damn well that the mob is doing this just to get you out of there. Well I know better. You'd just find some way out of being targeted and then Gotham would be stuck with you again. You're not fit for Gotham and we don't need you.” Garcia growled, his voice growing louder. Wayne stood up and took the steps between him and Garcia, looking the man in the eye.
“I'm not sure who you think I am, but I think you have your information wrong. So, unless you'd like to see my lawyer tomorrow with harassment charges, I suggest you leave,” Wayne said calmly, coming to full height he was taller than Garcia. Neither backed down.
“You don't have rights in here,” Garcia spat back at the billionaire. Stephens knew better, and with the right lawyer, he did. Not many, but enough that he didn't have to deal with Garcia's shit.
“You want to bet? Just keep pushing and you'll find out.” Wayne crossed his arms over his chest. Garcia's hands dropped to his sides and balled into tight fists.
“This isn't over,” Garcia said as he turned around to leave, looking over his shoulder at Wayne one last time. “Batman will never set foot on the streets of Gotham again even if its the last thing I do.” And he left, Stephens ran to catch up with the mayor, whose stride was long and quick. Stephens could tell Garcia was angry and that Wayne had just pushed a few more buttons without even saying much.
Garcia pushed open the front doors of Arkham and started quickly down the stairs. Stephens ran to keep up but knew in his heart that he was too late when heard the screaming. He ran out onto the steps of Arkham to see the Mayor lying there, shot right through the left shoulder and again in the stomach. Stephens squatted next to him, pulling out his two-way to call in help. He held his free hand over the mayors stomach wound, trying to keep the bleeding down. At least he was still breathing. A crowd had gathered and another man was trying to help Stephens by getting his hands on the chest wound.
Stephens couldn't breath. This was on his watch and he had failed.
Gerard Stephens wished at that moment that Gotham had Batman back.
----
Gordon looked over at Dick who was looking at the Batsuit. Gordon had been able to retrieve it from Arkham, claiming it was evidence. Dick was looking it over with great care and concern. Gordon wasn't sure if the young man was up for the task, but really who was going to deny Wayne this now? It took a lot of trust on Wayne's part to even suggest such a plan. An even more trust from Dick to go through with it.
“I don't know if this is going to work. I'm obviously shorter than Bruce and not as broad. Won't people notice the difference?” Dick asked as he looked over at Alfred and Gordon, who were standing next to each other. Gordon smirked.
“A lot of people don't get a good look at Batman. The only person you would have had to worry about fooling was me. And I already know the truth.” Gordon took the cowl off the table and handed it to Dick, who took it and looked at it.
“If I don't get close enough, how will people know it's Batman?” Dick asked, ticking his head to the side in question. Alfred smiled over at Gordon and shrugged his shoulder.
“Trust me, they'll know. You just have to make enough of a show that they see you.” Gordon put his hands on Dick's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “It's going to be dangerous, but I don't think Bruce would have asked you if he didn't think you could handle it.”
Dick smiled genuinely. “I know. I just hope it works.”
-----
Jim Gordon walked out of the City Hall, having gone to talk to the Deputy Mayor who reinstated Gordon his position, as it seemed the city did need men who knew what they were doing. Gordon was surprised to find out that Garcia wasn't expected to live, he was being left on life support until he family was notified and could make a decision. This left Gordon just enough time to get some last words in. He wanted to feel bad, wanted to feel something towards the man, but all he could do was finally fell free of a dead-weight burden. The city didn't need more corrupted, pompous jackasses like Anthony Garcia.
Gotham needed men like Bruce Wayne. And if all went right that evening, Gotham would have it's prince back.
Five officers escorted Gordon down to a waiting car. The Deputy Mayor insisted that since Gordon was also still a target, that he take all precautions. This was not what Gordon wanted, he'd rather just lie low and hope for the best. But this was for Bruce, too. This was to end this entire conflict once and for all and hope that everything went back to normal.
The car door was opened for Gordon and he slipped inside, feeling the vaguely familiarity of the situation. Just like last time, he thought. He'd dealt with Deadshot before and remembered the train incident then. He didn't think the man would attempt the same thing twice, and just in case they steered clear of the train and the bridge. It would be easy, heading to Gotham General could be done by avoiding both.
Two officers sat on either side of him in the car, both pestering him about wearing a helmet, just in case. Gordon didn't think that Deadshot would attempt to doing the moving vehicle bit again, he would likely try something new and unpredictable. Lucky for Gordon, he had Dick following close behind by rooftop and Alfred helping him through the cowl communicator. Gordon was putting a lot of trust and faith in the fact that Dick would be able to do this. He was no Bruce Wayne – Batman – but he was definitely something else, and he had a quality about him that set Gordon at ease.
Not one incident happened on the way to Gotham General. The car pulled up to the front of the hospital and Gordon slid out after the first officer. There was that feeling in the back of Gordon's head again, that something was just not right. Trust, Jim...Trust. And just as he was sure he could hear the distant clicking, even though he knew it was just his imagination, he felt himself being pummeled to the ground. He could smell the familiar scent of Kevlar and rubber around him and then heard the ricochet of a bullet pang on the sidewalk. Batman stood, the officer helping Gordon to his feet as they gawked.
The reaction Gordon was hoping for. Batman nodded at Gordon, pulling the grapple from the utility belt and shooting towards the building to his left and taking off. Gordon was sure Dick knew where Deadshot was and hoped he took him down quick.
-----
Dick landed on the rooftop, silently behind Deadshot, who was cursing now as he tried to set up another shot, loading another bullet. Dick walked forward, but kick some gravel accidentally, and Deadshot stood up quickly glancing him over.
“Well, well, well... seems you've found me first, again.” The man pulled a small handgun and aimed it at Dick's chest, but Dick wasn't really in the mood to deal with this. He'd done enough training to know how to disarm someone. He bent down into a crouch, sliding his leg out from under him and up towards Deadshot before could react, kicking the gun away from him. Dick sprang of his toes and threw a punch at the man, knocking Deadshot off blance. Dick took the split second to grab the other man's wrist, twisted his arm around his back and dislocated the man's arm, leaving him screaming as he dropped to the ground, using his other hand to find the gun.
Dick kicked it away.
Deadshot went to run, having nothing left, and Dick sprung up off his feet, flipped over Deadshot's head and landed down in front of him, taking the man's last good arm and dislocating that one as well. He then used the cuffs to and rope, tying the man to a tall pole. He'd alert Alfred to let Gordon know where he could find Deadshot.
He bounded down the rooftop to the batpod. The sooner he got out of the suit, the less he would like he was invading Bruce's space.
Dick was a smart young man, Gordon hoped he had more ideas than he himself had right then.
Gordon looked at the passenger seat at the envelope laying. He was wary to open it; it meant his job could be taken away forever, but at the same time Stephens did say it was important and was risking his own job to give it to Gordon. Just exactly what was it? Gordon reached over and picked it up, feeling the weight of the it. It wasn't too heavy, but weighed enough to show there was a lot of information in there. Gordon opened the envelope and pulled out the papers, and began to read them, shuffling through each piece, and growing more disgusted and annoyed as he read each page.
A man he had thought they put away for good in Blackgate, calling himself Deadshot, had escaped a few months back and was never seen again. No one thought anything of it – until now. The stakeout Stephens mentioned was noted in the papers and the recording they had been able to obtain through bugging the warehouse was transcribed into written form. News had gotten around that Gotham's own Bruce Wayne was Batman and the mob, having a not so good relationship with Batman, now wanted Wayne dead. They were also aware that Wayne was in Arkham and that getting him out wouldn't be easy, so they hired an assassin to play two roles: to convince the city officials that Batman was needed (thus excusing him from Arkham and assassinating him) and to finally get rid of a few of those officials that had been on the mobs ass for years: Garcia and Gordon.
It wasn't the first time that Gordon had been a target of Deadshot's, but it was definitely the first time he'd be targeted for actually doing his job. And Garcia? Not the first time for him either, but never by the mob, directly, and never by Deadshot. It didn't bother Gordon so much to know he was targeted, it bothered him that the mob was out to kill Batman once and for all. With the vigilante's real identity known it would be much easier to take him out in public. But not if they didn't get him out of Arkham.
Conflicted now, Gordon put the papers back into the envelope. They really needed to get Wayne out of Arkham for the playboy's own sanity, but now it seemed best to at least keep him in there until they could do something about Deadshot. But how? Last time Batman was the one to take him down and bring him in. They didn't have that luxury this time. What he needed to do was warn Garcia, but that wasn't going to go well. Gordon needed to call Stephens and have Lieutenant Essen, who would be acting Commissioner by now, let Garcia know of the danger he was in. Until then, Gordon to watch out for himself, there was really no telling when he'd be targeted and there was definitely no Batman this time to keep him safe.
Gordon could take care of himself. He'd done it long before Batman and he could do it now. Of course, he'd never dealt with an assassin alone, but first time for everything.
He picked the envelope back up and placed them under his seat, just in case. He still had a few minutes before Dick and Alfred would be back from meeting with Wayne's lawyer. It had been a long day – a tediously long day. Gordon was still brooding over the fact that Garcia even had the nerve to put him on suspension for something so trivial. Gordon knew that Essen could do the job just fine, but she was still fairly knew to Gotham and he just wasn't sure she'd be able to handle all the little quirks about the city. Garcia would regret the decision, Gordon knew, within a week. That was why he wasn't all that worried.
Gordon stepped out of the car, locking it behind him as he closed the door. It was quiet out, the sounds of the night starting to creep into the late afternoon as the sun started to set behind the grove of trees behind the mansion. The soft sounds seemed to still for a moment, and Gordon thought vaguely that it felt too quiet. Surely his ears were deceiving him. He'd never been wrong on this before and he knew it wasn't his hearing going – it was an instinct. And that was when he saw the little red laser dot pointed at his chest. Lovely, he thought as he didn't even think twice about what he had to do next and started to run towards the grove of trees.
Deadshot was an excellent marksman and rarely missed his targets, but Gordon had escaped once before and he could damn well do it again. He needed to lose himself in the forest so obscure the man's line of sight. So Gordon ran a little further, nearly falling down a steep trail, tripping over his own feet. He lost balance for a second and his glasses fall, possibly somewhere on the ground. There wasn't really any time to look for them now. He kept running.
And just when Gordon thought he might have done the job, he felt a sharp pain against the side of his right ear, bringing his hand up to the side of head to hold it. A lucky shot gone wrong, but still nicked him, nonetheless. Gordon pulled his hand back, looking at the amount of blood. Damn. He didn't havetime to sit and think about it, Deadshot was probably more than aware he had missed. Gordon started to run again, well hobbling really since he twisted his ankle. He heard footsteps behind him, quick and even, like running.
That wasn't like Deadshot, he rarely went face-to-face with his victims. Gordon turned his head back, aware this could be the last breath he ever breathed. In a blur he was tackled to the ground and the sound of another shot whistled past him and the figure holding him down. He tried to look to see who it was, but without his glasses it was pretty useless to try and even guess.
“Stay down,” a male voice whispered, and Gordon was sure now that it was Dick. The man stood, and Gordon grabbed for his arm.
“Where are you going?” Gordon asked, he didn't need someone dying on his account. Dick pulled his arm away from him, waving him down again.
“Just stay here, I'll be back in a minute,” Dick answered, crouching low between the trees and then sprinting into another run. Gordon didn't see him after that, but minutes passed and there was no other noise. Gordon had had enough waiting, if he was going to be killed he might as well get it over with. He stood, walking back towards Wayne Manor. Dick was walking towards him as he reached the gravel driveway. He took Gordon's hand and gave placed his glasses in them.
“Uh, thanks,” Gordon grunted as he placed the glasses back on the bridge of his nose. He could finally saw Dick more clearly now, and Alfred, too, who was standing looking rather worriedly at Gordon. Dick smiled at him, his hair had been pulled back into a small ponytail and neatly brushed, he had shaved a little, too, it seemed, and was dressed in a nice black, fitting suit. The kid cleaned up well, Gordon had to give him that. Hell, he looked even younger than before, if that was even possible.
Alfred was quickly at Gordon's side, examining the small nick on his ear, making a little 'tsk' as he did. “Into the house with you, you'll need that taken care of.” Alfred placed a hand on Gordon's back and started to lead him to the house, Dick following at their side. Alfred sat Gordon down on a stool in the kitchen, pulling a first aid kit from the counter under the sink. He started to swab Gordon's ear with the disinfectant.
Dick stood close by, hands crossed over his chest. “Who was that guy?” he asked, the question directed to Gordon. Gordon raised his eyes to meet Dick's. Gordon thought for sure he would see question in the other man's eyes, but instead there was a lot of concern he wasn't expecting.
“An assassin, goes by the name Deadshot,” Gordon started to explain, cringing when Alfred hit a nerve with the alcohol. Alfred mumbled some sort of apology and Gordon went on. “I wasn't expecting his hit so soon.”
“Hit?” Dick asked, glancing at Alfred to see if he knew anything about this, but the butler merely shrugged his shoulders.
“He was hired to kill Garcia and myself. Apparently I'm first on the list. It's all an elaborate attempt to have the elected officials of Gotham let Bruce out of Arkham in order for Deadshot to kill him. Batman hasn't made a very nice impression on the mob and they will stop at nothing to rid of him,” Gordon said. Alfred finally put a bandage on his ear, the best he could really. Gordon smiled at him despite the conversation. “Thanks.” Alfred nodded.
Dick sighed deeply. “I wish I had been able to catch him then. By the time I got to him he was gone, nothing left behind but a few empty rounds.” Dick started to pace the room, obvious that he was trying to think of something. “Well, then we just don't allow them to let Bruce out. I know we've been working towards that, but if that's what they're expecting, then we can't.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Gordon said, nearly mimicking Dick's sigh. “It won't happen anyway. When Garcia get word of this, he'll have more protection than anyone. Not to mention he'll never let Bruce out, he's dead set on that never happening. At least not by his hand.”
“What do we do? Are we at a standstill? Is there a point in continuing to try to get through to Bruce now?” Dick seemed hopeful, as if he really wanted to continue even though the odds were really against them at the time. Gordon nodded.
“Yes. At some point we'll get past this whole situation. We've caught Deadshot before and we'll catch him again. At that time, we put our focus back on getting Bruce out of there. Until then I think we still need to continue the visits, continue to show him we believe in him.” Gordon wasn't sure if any of that made sense, if Dick would understand where he was coming from or not. The younger man nodded with a quirked up smile.
“Yeah...” Dick said simply, the look in his eyes showing that he was already devising some new plan. The phone rang then and Alfred answered it, and there was a few moments of silence in the room. Alfred placed the receiver back into the cradle. He looked at both men and shook his head.
“That was Arkham. They called to inform me that Master Wayne was put into solitary confinement.” Gordon looked to Dick who was already looking at Gordon for an answer to what they should do next.
Gordon just wasn't sure.
-----
To Bruce's very surprised they let him out a few days later. He was forced to still wear the straight jacket and was taken to a different cell on another floor, away from the Joker. Bruce didn't ask about the clown and no one offered any information. Bruce tried not to think about it, because when he did he could feel little inklings of that rage trying to seep into his thoughts. No, he had more control than that, he was better than that.
He felt better than he had in nearly two weeks now. Everything was so much clearer, his actions more defined and precise. He cooperated with the doctors, talked with the guards, using his playboy skills to butter them up. People were starting to treat him a bit differently in here, as if they were starting to see that maybe he wasn't insane or as crazy as they had assumed. Okay, so he nearly killed the Joker, but rumor had started going around that the Joker started it and even asked for it. No one was even blaming Bruce anymore.
It was all working. The lying, the facade, everything Bruce had picked up over the years on winning people over with impeccable charm was finally coming in handy for more ways than he ever thought he'd have to use them for.
A tap at his door and Bruce turned his head to see his regular guard entering the room. He pulled Bruce to his feet and began to unstrap the straight jacket. “You don't need this,” he said, unwrapping Bruce from it. “You have visitors.”
Bruce nodded, stretching his arms above his head and then bringing his wrists down to be cuffed. The guard wrinkled his forehead in thoughtfulness and shook his head, taking Bruce's arm and leading him to the visiting area. He opened the door for Bruce and let him walk inside. Bruce was expecting Gordon and Alfred, maybe just Alfred and Dick, but he didn't expect Dick and Gordon, together. It felt... weird? Yes, weird, to see them together.
Bruce sat down and Dick shook his head at him. “Solitary confinement, Bruce?”
Bruce shrugged. “I bit of a mishap. Nothing my witty charm and good looks couldn't get me out of.” Bruce felt his spirits begin to lift, a banter session with Dick had been long over due, and he felt that just maybe this might give in the extra gumption to keep going.
“Yeah, if that's what you wanna call it,” Dick retorted, grinning at him. “I thought it was more along the lines of 'stupidity'...”
“Shut up, Grayson,” Bruce said with a huge smile on his face, leaning back into his chair. It was then he let his eyes drift over to Gordon, who looked like he ran through hell and back. The older man wasn't looking at him, he merely let his gaze wander the room as if he felt a bit out of place. “Jim?”
Gordon's gaze finally met his and for a long moment there was nothing said between them, and Bruce felt a pang of guilt roll through his body. He had put this man through so much in the past two weeks, and he didn't once give up on Bruce. Gordon was there when Bruce fell apart, there when he rage let go, there to stop him, there to be anything Bruce needed him to be. But why? Sure they shared a few moments of intimacy during both their weaker moments, but was there anything past that? Bruce realized that he hoped that there was, because with the way that Jim Gordon's eyes raked him over just then, he wanted nothing else than to embrace him.
Damn shame for the glass between them and the eyes watching.
“Did you do what they said you did?” Gordon asked finally, regaining his own thoughts.
“You mean the Joker?” Bruce asked, and he saw both Gordon and Dick nod their heads. “Yes. I mean, I tried. I didn't kill him. I couldn't and I don't think I'd be any saner if I had.” Bruce leaned forward and pointed the next bit to Dick. “What you said to me the other day finally set in after they locked me in by myself. I finally got what everyone had been telling me.” Then to Gordon. “I'm so sorry for everything I said, the way I acted.” Bruce wasn't someone to apologize easily, but he knew in this situation he had to, for the sake everyone else and to move ahead.
“Sometimes it just takes a few words,” Dick said, motioning to Gordon. “It was his and Alfred's idea anyway. You think I would be here just for jollies if they hadn't asked me to come help?” There was that sarcastic tone again. Bruce shook his head.
“You were always such an asshole,” Bruce replied teasingly, shaking his head just slightly.
“I learned from the best.” Dick leaned back into his chair nonchalantly, and gave Gordon a look to continue on with whatever else it was they came for.
Gordon raised his eyebrows at Bruce. “I'm really happy to see you are in better spirits. It makes what I have to tell you a little easier and I know that your response and input will be valid and trustworthy.” He paused, catching Bruce's gaze again to be sure they were on the same page. “There is a setup by the mob to get you out of jail by trying to convince the city officials and GCPD to let you out. That Gotham needs Batman. I don't want you to panic about it or think that you need to do something. I just want you aware of it.”
“Why would the mob want me out, Jim?” Bruce asked, he had a feeling of what the answer would be, but hearing the words would make it more real.
“They want you dead. Remember Deadshot? He's been hired to assassinate Garcia and myself. In doing so it will bring chaos to the streets and people will start thinking that maybe Gotham needs Batman after all. You get out and they kill you. Them knowing that Bruce Wayne is Batman, Deadshot could do it any time.” Gordon explained. Bruce watched the worry overcome the older man's face, and it was then that Gordon turned his head slightly and Bruce the bandaged wrapped ear, likely a fault from an almost attempt on his life.
“You know,” Bruce started to say as he scratched his chin. “This might work out to benefit us.”
“What do you mean?” Dick asked as he scooted forward again, to hear Bruce better.
“What if we give them Batman?” Bruce suggested and both Gordon and Dick stared at him as if he had completely lost it again. “Just hear me out. This will work and it will help everyone.”
-----
Gerard Stephens walked with Mayor Garcia up the steps of Arkham, keeping in step with him. Sarah Essen had assigned him the job of 'protecting' the mayor since they gave Garcia the news about hit that had been placed on his head. Garcia wasn't surprised and he was even less surprised about the similar hit on Gordon. Stephens knew that it didn't change Garcia's mind though, Wayne had hit his limit the other day with his outburst towards the Joker, and Garcia was far from backing down now.
They walked the hallways down to the cells and Garcia had stopped to talk to a group of guards. They had heard how three guards had been severely hurt during Wayne's attempt to kill the Joker, and Garcia was not pleased to hear that the guards were so poorly trained to handle the situation. Stephens wasn't really surprised, Wayne was Batman after all, and not a lot of people ever got away from Batman unharmed.
But Garcia had his plans, his ideas and Stephens was starting to see just how corrupt the man had been become. Gotham needed Batman and Stephens didn't think Wayne was insane at all.
“I want every man here trained for combat within the next month. This sort of incident is not going to happen again,” Garcia was saying to head of the medical team. The woman nodded patiently and Garcia made a disgusted face and left, gesturing for Stephens to follow. He whispered to the detective when he was close enough. “Be sure we get our best trained officers down here to oversee this.”
Stephens nodded. “Yes, sir.” They walked the halls of the holding cells, and Garcia finally came to a stop at one of them, peeking his head into the small glass window. He looked over at one of the guards by the door, motioning for him to unlock the door.
“Sir, he isn't cuffed, I don't know that that is a good idea,” the guard said warily, but the mayor waved off his concern. The guard nodded and unlocked the door. Stephens watched as Garcia entered the cell and stared down at Wayne, who was merely looked up at him with calm, reserved eyes.
“Mister Mayor?” Wayne asked. Stephens noticed there wasn't even a hint of anger or regret in Bruce's tone, just a easy going smile.
“No doubt you've heard the recent news, I'm sure Gordon has been by to tell you. I just want to let you know that no matter the outcome and no matter how hard the city gets hit, I'm not letting you out. I will not allow it. This city survived without Batman before, it will survive again.” Garcia put his hands on his hips, pushing back his coat a little. If he was trying to intimidate Wayne, the younger man didn't show it.
“I don't doubt it,” Wayne said. “ But I don't know why you're telling me this. It has nothing to do with me.” Stephens raised an eyebrow, what exactly what Wayne trying to pull here. Or better yet, what plan did he set up with Gordon?
“Don't fuck with me, Wayne. You know exactly what I'm talking about and you damn well that the mob is doing this just to get you out of there. Well I know better. You'd just find some way out of being targeted and then Gotham would be stuck with you again. You're not fit for Gotham and we don't need you.” Garcia growled, his voice growing louder. Wayne stood up and took the steps between him and Garcia, looking the man in the eye.
“I'm not sure who you think I am, but I think you have your information wrong. So, unless you'd like to see my lawyer tomorrow with harassment charges, I suggest you leave,” Wayne said calmly, coming to full height he was taller than Garcia. Neither backed down.
“You don't have rights in here,” Garcia spat back at the billionaire. Stephens knew better, and with the right lawyer, he did. Not many, but enough that he didn't have to deal with Garcia's shit.
“You want to bet? Just keep pushing and you'll find out.” Wayne crossed his arms over his chest. Garcia's hands dropped to his sides and balled into tight fists.
“This isn't over,” Garcia said as he turned around to leave, looking over his shoulder at Wayne one last time. “Batman will never set foot on the streets of Gotham again even if its the last thing I do.” And he left, Stephens ran to catch up with the mayor, whose stride was long and quick. Stephens could tell Garcia was angry and that Wayne had just pushed a few more buttons without even saying much.
Garcia pushed open the front doors of Arkham and started quickly down the stairs. Stephens ran to keep up but knew in his heart that he was too late when heard the screaming. He ran out onto the steps of Arkham to see the Mayor lying there, shot right through the left shoulder and again in the stomach. Stephens squatted next to him, pulling out his two-way to call in help. He held his free hand over the mayors stomach wound, trying to keep the bleeding down. At least he was still breathing. A crowd had gathered and another man was trying to help Stephens by getting his hands on the chest wound.
Stephens couldn't breath. This was on his watch and he had failed.
Gerard Stephens wished at that moment that Gotham had Batman back.
----
Gordon looked over at Dick who was looking at the Batsuit. Gordon had been able to retrieve it from Arkham, claiming it was evidence. Dick was looking it over with great care and concern. Gordon wasn't sure if the young man was up for the task, but really who was going to deny Wayne this now? It took a lot of trust on Wayne's part to even suggest such a plan. An even more trust from Dick to go through with it.
“I don't know if this is going to work. I'm obviously shorter than Bruce and not as broad. Won't people notice the difference?” Dick asked as he looked over at Alfred and Gordon, who were standing next to each other. Gordon smirked.
“A lot of people don't get a good look at Batman. The only person you would have had to worry about fooling was me. And I already know the truth.” Gordon took the cowl off the table and handed it to Dick, who took it and looked at it.
“If I don't get close enough, how will people know it's Batman?” Dick asked, ticking his head to the side in question. Alfred smiled over at Gordon and shrugged his shoulder.
“Trust me, they'll know. You just have to make enough of a show that they see you.” Gordon put his hands on Dick's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “It's going to be dangerous, but I don't think Bruce would have asked you if he didn't think you could handle it.”
Dick smiled genuinely. “I know. I just hope it works.”
-----
Jim Gordon walked out of the City Hall, having gone to talk to the Deputy Mayor who reinstated Gordon his position, as it seemed the city did need men who knew what they were doing. Gordon was surprised to find out that Garcia wasn't expected to live, he was being left on life support until he family was notified and could make a decision. This left Gordon just enough time to get some last words in. He wanted to feel bad, wanted to feel something towards the man, but all he could do was finally fell free of a dead-weight burden. The city didn't need more corrupted, pompous jackasses like Anthony Garcia.
Gotham needed men like Bruce Wayne. And if all went right that evening, Gotham would have it's prince back.
Five officers escorted Gordon down to a waiting car. The Deputy Mayor insisted that since Gordon was also still a target, that he take all precautions. This was not what Gordon wanted, he'd rather just lie low and hope for the best. But this was for Bruce, too. This was to end this entire conflict once and for all and hope that everything went back to normal.
The car door was opened for Gordon and he slipped inside, feeling the vaguely familiarity of the situation. Just like last time, he thought. He'd dealt with Deadshot before and remembered the train incident then. He didn't think the man would attempt the same thing twice, and just in case they steered clear of the train and the bridge. It would be easy, heading to Gotham General could be done by avoiding both.
Two officers sat on either side of him in the car, both pestering him about wearing a helmet, just in case. Gordon didn't think that Deadshot would attempt to doing the moving vehicle bit again, he would likely try something new and unpredictable. Lucky for Gordon, he had Dick following close behind by rooftop and Alfred helping him through the cowl communicator. Gordon was putting a lot of trust and faith in the fact that Dick would be able to do this. He was no Bruce Wayne – Batman – but he was definitely something else, and he had a quality about him that set Gordon at ease.
Not one incident happened on the way to Gotham General. The car pulled up to the front of the hospital and Gordon slid out after the first officer. There was that feeling in the back of Gordon's head again, that something was just not right. Trust, Jim...Trust. And just as he was sure he could hear the distant clicking, even though he knew it was just his imagination, he felt himself being pummeled to the ground. He could smell the familiar scent of Kevlar and rubber around him and then heard the ricochet of a bullet pang on the sidewalk. Batman stood, the officer helping Gordon to his feet as they gawked.
The reaction Gordon was hoping for. Batman nodded at Gordon, pulling the grapple from the utility belt and shooting towards the building to his left and taking off. Gordon was sure Dick knew where Deadshot was and hoped he took him down quick.
-----
Dick landed on the rooftop, silently behind Deadshot, who was cursing now as he tried to set up another shot, loading another bullet. Dick walked forward, but kick some gravel accidentally, and Deadshot stood up quickly glancing him over.
“Well, well, well... seems you've found me first, again.” The man pulled a small handgun and aimed it at Dick's chest, but Dick wasn't really in the mood to deal with this. He'd done enough training to know how to disarm someone. He bent down into a crouch, sliding his leg out from under him and up towards Deadshot before could react, kicking the gun away from him. Dick sprang of his toes and threw a punch at the man, knocking Deadshot off blance. Dick took the split second to grab the other man's wrist, twisted his arm around his back and dislocated the man's arm, leaving him screaming as he dropped to the ground, using his other hand to find the gun.
Dick kicked it away.
Deadshot went to run, having nothing left, and Dick sprung up off his feet, flipped over Deadshot's head and landed down in front of him, taking the man's last good arm and dislocating that one as well. He then used the cuffs to and rope, tying the man to a tall pole. He'd alert Alfred to let Gordon know where he could find Deadshot.
He bounded down the rooftop to the batpod. The sooner he got out of the suit, the less he would like he was invading Bruce's space.