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Momentum:
Chapter Five
written by destinyawakened
Gordon would consider himself a strong person. When his wife died he didn't mourn the way he knew most people should have, instead of took it on himself to stay busy during the days before her funeral and just not think about it. He knew this was one another reason he had his heart attack; the stress, the bottled up emotions. There had no been no time to really let it all sink in and now that he had all the time in the world, he often thought about her in the back of his mind when he wasn't even aware he had been doing so. Sometimes it so prominent that he could have sworn he heard her talking and even answered her.
That was when Gordon knew for sure that he needed to move on. It had only been a month and half – if that – since Barbara passed away. And yet, it felt like it had been years, the way the time passed so slowly around him. He knew that living in the past, expecting her to come home from a long vacation was just damn delusional; but that's how it all felt... like a dream – a nightmare – that had been going on far too long and he was ready to wake.
He was far more disappointed each morning to find that it wasn't just a dream, it was all a reality.
Gordon took all the sheets off the bed, pillowcases and all, and shoved them into the washer. He had held off on washing them, afraid that the last scent of Barbara would be washed away forever, but now he knew that no matter how long he lingered on it, some day her scent would just disappear. Some would say a month wasn't nearly long enough to mourn, but the way Gordon saw it was that he had been mourning since the day Barbara told him she had cancer. He had detached himself a few months in, ready to let go if he had to, even if he wasn't quite ready when it had happened. He was ready to move on, to move forward. That wasn't to say though he would put away every memory of her, just the ones that held him – held the kids – back.
Trinkets, books, unfinished projects she had started and never got around to finishing; he put them all into a box, taped it shut and placed it in the attic. He kept out the pictures, placed them in spots more viewable so that he, Jimmy and Babs could see them daily and just remember. He really hoped that Jimmy would see them often and know that he wasn't the only one that missed her, or grieved when she passed.
Gordon looked over the living room, standing at by the couch. He wasn't much of a decorator, but it didn't look half bad. Babs walked out of her room and down the hall, stopping to look at what Gordon was gazing at. She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly, kissing his cheek.
“It looks good, Dad,” she commented before letting go of him. She walked into the kitchen and started to make breakfast, something usually Gordon did, but he'd let time slip by him this morning. Jimmy trudged down the hall from his room, dressed in what Gordon guessed was the newest fashion for kids his age: skinny, straight legged jeans, a white band t-shirt (of what band he couldn't tell), and a pair of very worn out skater shoes.
“Good morning,” Gordon greeted his son. Jimmy nodded and slid into a chair at the table. It had been a few days since the incident with the other kid in the park and the talk Jimmy had with Wayne; in all, Gordon could have sworn his son was at least a little more open. He was coming to breakfast, eating dinner with them, saying more than three words at one time. Sure it wasn't remarkable, but it was something.
Babs brought over a plate of toast and set it on the table. Jimmy stared at it before grabbing a piece. Babs went back into the kitchen to finish making the eggs. Gordon took a seat next to his son, but didn't bother with the toast. In fact, he wasn't hungry at all. He had an idea, but he wasn't quite sure if it was going to be one that his children, namely Jimmy, would be okay with. It really couldn't hurt to try.
Gordon folded his hands on the table, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. “I was thinking of taking a trip to the cemetery today, drop some flowers off on your mother's grave. I'd be happy for whatever company wanted to come along.” He didn't want to directly ask, because he didn't want to seem as if he was pushing either of his kids into it. Either way, he'd be going, if even as a one last look back at his old life before entering a new one and whatever that may entail.
Babs turned her head from the stove, stirring the scrambled eggs. “I'll go with you. I have a few things I need to tell her,” she said with a smile. Gordon grinned at her; Babs had been the strongest of them all, being there and becoming the woman of house when she didn't need to be. Gordon was sure that when no one was around she grieved and mourned, but she never let anyone think otherwise. She was just like her mother.
Jimmy rolled his eyes at Babs' comment. “She's dead you know, she won't be able to hear you,” he spat back at her, almost angrily. Gordon glared at his son and when Jimmy caught his eyes, he looked down at the toast in hands and said in a smaller, more annoyed voice, “Sorry.”
Babs looked over at Gordon worriedly. She had learned to take things in stride with Jimmy, knowing that he was having a harder time than everyone else. She shrugged her shoulders, taking the eggs off the stove and scraping them into a bowl. She brought the bowl to the table and placed it down in the middle. She served Gordon a plate and then motioned to Jimmy to shook his head, and then plated herself some.
“Well, I guess we'll leave after breakfast then, sweetheart,” Gordon said, assuming Jimmy wasn't going to go since he didn't say a word about it and didn't seem to even want to talk as it was. They finished their breakfast in silence.
----
Gordon had gone out to start the car and was waiting on Babs. She emerged from the house a few minutes later, in jeans and t-shirt. She slipped into the passenger seat and buckled up. Gordon sighed, almost wishing that Jimmy had been right behind her, but the longer he looked the more he knew that the boy wasn't there. There had to be something Gordon could do...
“At least he ate breakfast with us this morning,” Babs pointed out, aware of what Gordon was thinking. He nodded, putting the car into reverse and backing out the driveway, careful to watch for any stray speeding cars or reckless kids on bicycles, which were often common around their neighborhood, especially on a beautiful Saturday morning.
They got out of the driveway when the front door swung open, slammed shut, and Jimmy ran out. Gordon hit the breaks with his foot and gaped at his son with some disbelief. Jimmy opened the back door and hopped in. Babs turned her head to look at him and gave him one of the sweetest smiles Gordon had ever seen her give anyone.
Gordon didn't say a word and Babs kept whatever cutesy comment she had rolling around in her head to herself.
After a few long moments of silence as they drove, Gordon decided to break the quiet. “So, Babs, your birthday is coming up in a few weeks. Any ideas on what you'd like to do?”
“We don't have to do anything, Dad. Just us as a family would be fine,” Babs said sincerely, and Gordon knew she meant it, but he wasn't going to allow it.
“No, you deserve to have a perfect eighteenth birthday. It's not everyday you get to become a legal adult.” And once he said the words, he found he was probably more scared of them than she probably was. It meant college, it meant she could vote... it meant she wasn't really his little girl anymore.
He watched her shrug out of the conner of his eye. “I don't want a big deal. Maybe a few friends can come for a sleep over?” she asked, and then quickly added, “You can buy a cake if you want, Dad.” Smiling teasingly. It was always his thing to buy them their birthday cakes from the bakery around the corner from the police station – Gordon was convinced they were the best damn cakes he'd ever had.
“Big of you,” Gordon mused with a grin. “And yes, a sleep over is fine.” Jimmy groaned from the backseat, slamming the back of his head against the headrest. “You can go stay at Greg's house if you'd prefer not to be around that night.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Jimmy mumbled, folding his arms over his chest and looking back out the window. They were almost to the cemetery, Gordon could see the black cast-iron gates. There were a lot of cars in the parking lot, Saturdays were the busiest days for visiting. Gordon finally found a spot, and parked.
They all piled out of the car and Babs turned to look at him and sighed. “We forgot to stop for flowers.”
Gordon bared his teeth a little, mentally kicking himself for forgetting. He had been so happy that Jimmy joined them that he damn well forgot. “I'm sure you're mother won't mind if we bring her double the amount next time.” He was looking over all the other cars and how there weren't many spots left and if they went to get flowers they might not get another space to park. Babs caught on and nodded.
“Sure,” she said as she and Jimmy walked up next to their dad.
“Or,” came an overly confident tone from behind them, “You can take a few of mine.” Gordon turned his head first, his eyes met with pair of almost familiar hazel ones, and then he took in the whole picture and realized it must have been a trick of the light. Bruce Wayne stood before them – conveniently enough – holding what looked to be two dozen red roses in his hands. At his side was an older gentlemen that Gordon recognized as Wayne's once guardian, now butler.
“That's really not necessary, “ Gordon started to say, but Wayne was already handing over half the roses to the butler and placing the other half into Babs' arms. She looked down at the perfect red roses and then back to Gordon, shrugging a little.
“Consider it a peace offering for our last meeting, Comm --” Bruce started to say and then stopped himself, the smile sliding off his face. “Forgive me. Mister Gordon.” It sounded weird for Gordon to hear his name like that, it had been years since anyone ever called him Mister; it was either 'Gordon' or 'Commissioner', and sometimes 'Commissioner Gordon'. It seemed Wayne had trouble saying it as well, which seemed odd.
Wayne took the flowers from his butler and then the older gentlemen nodded and walked back to their car. Wayne started up the path towards the grave sites with them. Gordon noted the careful smile he gave Jimmy, and how the teen reacted with a little more confidence; he strengthened his stride and held his head a little higher. So it was Wayne after all that had brought a slightly sunnier side to Gordon's son's life.
Gordon watched Wayne for a few more seconds out of the corner of his eye, seeing – perhaps for the first time – a different man than the one he often saw plastered all over the media. This man was self-assured, walking with confidence and grace. And what struck Gordon as just a bit weird, was the fact that he could hear the scuffle of everyone's shoes on the pavement except for Wayne's. Being light on his feet was one thing, but that was just plain odd, especially in dress shoes. Gordon watched the other man's feet, and was convinced that Wayne must have just had a stealthier way of walking.
They came to the plot where Barbara was buried and Wayne nodded his head but said nothing else as he made his way further into the cemetery. Gordon assumed he was going to visit his own parents' graves, which were a bit further into the heart of the cemetery, a private spot usually. Gordon vaguely remembered visiting there once just weeks after the Wayne's were killed. He sighed as Wayne disappeared over a small hill.
Babs placed the flowers down and was sitting at the headstone whispering something, but Gordon didn't want to intrude, so he and Jimmy kept back a few spaces. Gordon could feel a warm wind pick up around them, the spring air was starting to settle in nicely.
“I'm glad you came,” Gordon whispered to Jimmy, who was looking down at his shoes, scuffing them against the dirt. His son looked up at him, well more like over since it seemed he had grown again. Jimmy didn't say anything, just held Gordon's gaze for a bit, as if assessing him.
“Do you miss her?” Jimmy asked after a few minutes passed, looking back to the gravestone and Babs. Gordon raised his eyebrows in surprise, the question caught him off guard.
“Of course. Everyday,” he answered quietly. Had he ever known Barbara would have gone so soon, he would have tried to spend more time at home. There was no place for regrets now and before she passed she even told him that she forgave him a long time ago for not being around. She understood the reasons, but it didn't make it any better. He'd been so lucky to have her...
“It didn't seem like you'd miss her before she died. But Mister Wayne said that you were stressed out about it. Is that true?” Jimmy asked, a little concerned. Maybe he was asking more of how Wayne would actually have known? And really, Gordon wanted to know that, too. Wayne said himself that day in the hospital that he had just only heard about Barbara's passing a mere days before. So, what gives?
Gordon nodded at his son. “Very. I was worried about your mom, worried about you and Babs, worried about everything there was to worry about. So, yes, I was very stressed.” And it seemed enough of a good answer for Jimmy, as he nodded his had slightly and walked over to the grave and sat down next to Babs, who wrapped her arm around his shoulder. Barely sixteen or not, Jimmy still the little boy Gordon remembered from four years prior, who worshiped Batman and would have done anything to see his name cleared. Those days were gone and Jimmy gave up on that hope a few years back. He didn't even mention Batman anymore.
“You two be okay here for a minute?” Gordon asked, and Babs and Jimmy both nodded at him. Gordon started up the path he saw Wayne take, making his way over the small hill. As he reached the top he could see Wayne in the distance by two gravestones. Gordon walked down the hill and slowly made his way over. Wayne wasn't doing much, if anything at all. He just stood there looking at the flowers he had placed on each grave, head slightly bent.
Gordon stopped just feet from the graves, placing his hands into his pockets. He subtly cleared his throat and Wayne turned around instinctively, head first followed by the rest of his body. Gordon expected one of the those classic cheesy grins from the younger man, but wasn't really disappointed when he didn't get one. Instead, Wayne kept a calm demeanor about him, staying where he was and returning the steady gaze that Gordon was giving him.
“That was a very nice thing you did. The roses I mean,” Gordon said steadily, nodding his head in a slight gesture over the hill to where his children were. Wayne merely offered a small smile, nothing spectacular or overrated, and it almost reminded Gordon of someone he knew. He sighed. “And, for the record, you didn't owe me a peace offering. I... Might have overreacted that day. I was under a lot of stress and I know it doesn't make up for what I said, but –”
Wayne was shaking his head. “I know,” he said. Gordon breathed a sigh of relief, as if he had wanted to apologize for a while, and for the other man to be so calm and forgiving felt oddly chilling. He then thought about what Jimmy had said, about Wayne knowing that Gordon had been stressed out. Maybe he did know, maybe the billionaire knew more than a lot of people assumed he did. Gordon couldn't help but think some of it was an act, but the question there then would be... Why?
“Mister Wayne...” Gordon started to say and the other man brought his eyes to meet Gordon's once more. “Would you consider talking to my son again?” Wayne raised an eyebrow, as if to question the question.
“I'm sorry?” he asked.
“My son, Jimmy. He seemed less...closed-off after talking with you the other day. I think maybe it was something you said to him.” Gordon didn't want to plead or beg, and he hoped to God that Wayne just agreed to do it. At this point Gordon would try anything, even if it meant having to invite Gotham's billionaire Prince over to his house for dinner.
Wayne bit his lip, looking at the ground for a moment, and then back to Gordon. “Okay.”
-----
Gordon and Wayne agreed to that evening, it was bit soon for Gordon but he figured the sooner the better for Jimmy's sake. When he mentioned it to his son, Jimmy didn't seem to care one way or another. Babs had looked at Gordon questionably, a look Barbara most often gave him when he did something she wasn't sure she approved of. Babs didn't say a word about, however, and went about cleaning the house when they got home.
That was when Gordon stopped her. She was half way down the hall to grab the vacuum from the closet, and he stopped behind her to block her path. She looked at him and gestured for him to move and he shook his head.
“Dad?” she asked, a little irritated. He put his hand on the closet door and shut it.
“Babs, let me do this. It's Saturday afternoon. You should be out hanging with your friends. Not here taking care of your Dad and brother and cleaning house. I can take care of this.” He put his hands on her shoulder and gently moved her away from the closet door so she wouldn't attempt to do it.
“But...” She started, but then sighed seeing as Gordon was perfectly stubborn and if she wanted to argue it, he would be glad to keep that up as well. “Fine.” She rolled her eyes at him and he pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. She pulled back and went to her room, and a few minutes later he could hear her on the phone calling one of her friends. Good, just as it should be. She might have been nearly eighteen, but he didn't need her growing up any faster than that any time soon.
Jimmy walked down the hall towards Gordon from the kitchen, and then almost did a complete three-sixty turn around when he saw the look on Gordon's face. Gordon shook his head and grabbed his son's shoulder. Jimmy sighed and rolled his eyes expectantly. Jim opened the closet door and pulled out the vacuum.
“Fine,” Jimmy said as he took the handle and went to plug it in. Gordon walked to the kitchen to start cleaning up there. He'd hate for Wayne to get here and be put off by the idea that his family was incapable (however untrue it may have been) of taking care of itself without his wife.
And as Gordon cleaned the kitchen counters he couldn't help but wonder what had come over him to have invited Bruce Wayne over for dinner? And that thought lead to actual dinner, what was he going to make? He just told Babs to go out with friends which meant he was stuck trying to figure out what to cook for a billionaire.
Damn, he really didn't think this through.