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Reconciled Moments
Chapter One
written by destinyawakened
It had been one month -- one month since Jim Gordon walked into Bruce Wayne's penthouse to reconcile their differences and finally come to an understanding. Bruce had finally admitted his need for support during the rest of his detox, which could take a couple months longer. They wouldn't know for sure that the drugs had completely left Bruce's system until he started to feel like his old self again. Gordon had started to think that it would never happen, that Bruce would always have some lingering effects from the medication, even though the billionaire promised that wouldn't be the case.
Either way, Gordon was there for Bruce; the worst had passed and now the uphill climb back to the top was all that was left. And after a month of being with Bruce every day, to check up on him after work or just to stay with him when the lows began to get too low, Gordon thought things were going well. He gave everything he had, every last bit of energy to Bruce and so far it was paying off. Except now, he had to let go for a while – two days to be exact. Lucius Fox, Bruce's CEO of Wayne Enterprises, had asked him to go to Metropolis to close a deal. Mister Fox had known of Bruce's ordeal, and thought the trip would be good for him, forcing him to get out and mingle and bit and get back into the swing of society.
So, that left them standing on the tarmac leading to Bruce's small jet, the beginnings of a warm wind whipping around them as Gordon couldn't quite figure out how to say goodbye. He had grown even more attached to the playboy over the past month than he had ever thought he would. They had finally made it through their toughest obstacle and were stronger than ever. Bruce started up the steps to the plane, tugging on Gordon's hand so the older man would follow. They reached the top and Gordon stood to one side, looking out towards the airport and the city that lay splayed out behind it: Gotham. It was the moments like this that Gordon lived for – standing with Bruce, watching over the city that they protected and called their own. Gotham City was a cruel child sometimes, but she was all they had together, and was everything they shared.
“I'm not good at saying 'good-bye', Jim.,” Bruce said as he gazed at over the same view. “And I'm even worse at saying how much I'm going to miss you.”
Gordon rolled his eyes. Even if it was true, Bruce was still suave as ever at getting his point across by being smug about it. Gordon turned his gaze to Bruce, reaching out and smoothing down a piece of the younger man's hair that had gotten caught up in the wind. Bruce caught his hand and held it to the side of his face for a brief moment before bringing their arms down to their sides, holding tight to the older man's hand.
“You aren't leaving forever,” Gordon said with a tone of thick sarcasm, trying to break the sentimental tension that was building between them. Neither of them had ever been one to show more affection than was necessary, but since the drug incident and Selina Kyle, they both seemed to be giving in a lot more and putting a lot more effort into showing the other how they felt. It seemed to bethe best thing to do.
“Two days could feel like forever,” Bruce mumbled as he pushed Gordon up against the side of the wall, one hand cupping Gordon's cheek and the other at his hip. Bruce bent in and kissed the commissioner slowly, allowing the moment to pass around them as if no one else existed. Gordon didn't want Bruce to leave at all, but he was pretty sure it was just the longing in his groin that controlled that part of his brain; the other part was trying its best, emotionally, to let go of Bruce and move on with work and the other things he had to deal with for the next two days.
Gordon let out a sigh as their lips parted, still barely touching. “Bruce,” he breathed, “you have to get going. I'll be here when you get back.”
“You better be,” Bruce said teasingly as he quickly kissed Gordon one last time. Gordon reached out and squeezed Bruce's hand and gazed into his eyes one last time before heading back down the stairs to the tarmac to watch the jet leave. He prayed Bruce would make it there safely.
-------
“I really wish you had just taken the flight out here with Babs,” Gordon said into his cell phone. He was talking to his brother Roger. He and his wife were due into Gotham in a few days and they had decided it would be romantic to take the long drive there together. Gordon thought it was suicide, considering the route that would have to be taken from Chicago to Gotham. So far Roger said that he and Thelma had been doing just fine and had avoided any “suspicious” activity. Gordon wasn't sure what he meant, but didn't ask.
“Babs is a big girl, Jim. She's not the twelve-year-old you saw last. She's a young woman now and consequently won't let us forget that,” Roger explained. Babs had a few days left of school and couldn't drive out with her parents; Roger told Gordon that she was staying at a close friend's house until early Saturday morning when they would put her on her flight to Gotham. sixteen-years-old or not, Gordon still worried about his niece; she was very impressionable and anything could go wrong.
Maybe he was just being overprotective of his family. Aside from Barbara, Jimmy and Susan, his brother and his family were all Gordon had left for relatives.
“When do you expect to be in on Friday?” Gordon asked changing the subject to something a little more positive instead of dwelling on what he couldn't change.
“Should be there around seven-thirty in the evening, or so.” Roger paused, as if considering his words carefully. “And you're sure Bruce Wayne doesn't mind us staying at his house?” His tone suggested that he couldn't believe that a man such as Bruce would be charitable enough to offer something of that a stature.
“Bruce insisted on it. He knows I don't have the space to keep more than two people.”
There was a moments hesitation on the other end, and Gordon knew his brother wanted to ask the question that most people asked or were thinking of when they found out that Bruce Wayne was Gordon's “good friend”. People always wanted the details, to know without knowing and to keep themselves hidden from the real truth but wanting it all the same. Anyone who suspected felt this and it practically radiated off of them.
“Well, I'll let you and Thelma go and get some rest so you can continue your journey here in the morning.” Gordon had grown uncomfortable and knew his brother had as well; if that said anything about their impending trip, he knew it was going to be like walking on eggshells for both of them.
“Night, Jim.” Roger hung up. Gordon cared for his brother and his family as much as someone would care for their relatives, but he had never really liked his brother as a person. Roger was a drinker and had been known to be abusive, but when confronted about ithe denied it. Gordon only knew about it because of the one time that Thelma had called him some years ago when Babs was small, and told him about Roger's drunken rampage through the house. Since then, Thelma denied it ever happening, and it was never spoken of again. Gordon hated that he couldn't be there for her, that he couldn't do anything about it. But it had passed, and he was certain that Roger changed. They would surely find out soon.
-----
Jim Gordon found he felt lonelier than ever without Bruce around. Jimmy and Susan wouldn't be up for a while; Barbara insisted that they stay home for the few weeks left of school to keep focused. Gordon found that he kept mostly to this office at the Major Crimes Unit, working late into the night to finish the paperwork on the Holiday case that kept falling through the cracks. He usually didn't make it home on these days, staying well into the night and crashing on the couch in his office. Except tonight. Tonight Roger would be coming into town.
Alfred was already out there by the curbside to meet him when Gordon pulled up the long driveway. The butler opened the commissioner's door for him with a polite nod of his head. Gordon stepped out, giving the older gentlemen a shy grin. He tried to shut the door behind himself, but Alfred had a firm grip on it and gave Gordon a look of “don't even think about it”. So he didn't. He moved away from the door, hands up in surrender.
“I really don't think I'll ever get use to this treatment,” he said to the older gentlemen. Alfred gave him a small smile and shut the car door nicely. “It's really not necessary.”
Alfred nodded. “If you say so, Master Gordon.”
Gordon rolled his eyes; he hated being called that worst of all. He wasn't “master” of the Manor, or Alfred for that matter, and he hardly thought the title suited him at all. “Is it too much to ask that you just call me 'Jim'?” The butler had just started referring to him as 'Master Gordon' when he had come to live with Gordon a few months Back. Gordon had hoped once he went back to working for Bruce the title would have ended there.
Alfred tweaked an eyebrow at him. “Of course, Master Jim.” It was a start anyway. “When can I be expecting your brother and his wife, sir?”
Gordon looked down at his watch; they should be arriving any time now. He had told them to give him a call if anything happened or if they might be late. “Soon. Did you need help with dinner?”
“Not at all, sir. But if you like I can pour you a scotch while you wait.” Alfred was already heading up the steps to the front doors of Wayne Manor, expecting Gordon to follow. The commissioner shook his head slowly.
“No. That's alright. I'm going to stay out here for a few more minutes.” He shooed Alfred into the Manor as his hand dug around his pants pocket for his pack of cigarettes. It wasn't a habit he was proud to have picked up again, but he found he really needed the stress relief. With Bruce still coming down off the medication Thomas Elliot had been forcing on him and the current mob investigations at MCU (something he wished would just stay dead), sometimes Gordon just needed five minutes to smoke and forget about everything.
He slipped one cigarette out of the package and lit it up with the small lighter he had bought himself around the time Bruce started going insane from the medication. The lighter was now a reminder of the hardships he had faced not too long ago. Flipping the silver Zippo between his fingers, he knew he couldn't bear to let it go; the memories would stay forever, but it was a good reminder of the turmoil his relationship with Bruce had gone through. They had survived it, and he knew they could survive anything else life would to throw at them.
Hopefully.
Gordon knew the day would come where one of them was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it would be the end. It wasn't a comforting thought and really it wasn't one he should be having. But it was reality and one day it would happen. Neither he nor Bruce had jobs where they weren't in the line of fire at least three times a week. Sure, they took the precautions, wore Kevlar vests – armor for Batman – and even thought out strategies, but one day all those things would fail and one of them would go down. It was just how it went. Gordon never voiced these concerns to Bruce, who was ever the optimist when it came to the matter, though Gordon was sure it was just a cover for knowing, too, that one day it would all end.
The sun started to set behind the hill Wayne Manor sat on, and Gordon snubbed out his cigarette on the ground, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He hated when he started to think of the future, or the lack there of. Nothing in his life had ever been easy ,and when he had gotten involved with Bruce Wayne all the simple things had disappeared too. He wasn't complaining; he wouldn't trade anything that had happened between them for the world – the good or the bad. Everything just made what they had that much stronger.
He was about to take another cigarette from the pack when his cellphone began to ring in his pocket. He pulled it out and frowned at the number; it was a Bludhaven area code. He hit the receive button.
“This is Jim Gordon.”
“Commissioner Gordon? This is the Bludhaven police department. I'd much rather be doing this in person, but I can't get away right now.” The woman on the other side paused and Gordon started to feel his chest tighten in worry; it wasn't often that he heard from another city's police department. “We had a major car accident this afternoon on one of the back roads leading to Gotham. We have reason to believe the vehicle belongs to a Roger Gordon.”
-------
Gordon stared down at the face of his brother, cold lifeless and bruised, covered in cuts and deep gashes. They had yet to clean the bodies, freshly brought over from the scene of the accident, but it wasn't hard to see past the gashes and wounds. Light brown crew-cut hair with the Gordon receding hairline, stubble on a usually clean-shaved face; it was Roger all right, there was no doubt in Gordon's mind. He bent over the cool metal slab, hands splayed next to his brother's tattered body. He closed his eyes, tapping his toe on the ground nervously. He knew he was being watched; the Lieutenant who had called him was on the other side of the room, speaking lowly to another officer.
“Is – is it possible to get the case file for this sent to Gerard Stephens at Gotham MCU?” Gordon asked without lifting his head or even opening his eyes. He was still in shock, unsure how he was suppose to be feeling. There was a wave of intense cold that had hit him in the chest when he had first arrived and seen the bodies, but it had subsided and soon he had felt more numb than anything else.
“Of course, sir.” The woman said. “We'd be honored to work with your team.” Not exactly what Gordon had in mind, but he figured this was out of Gotham city limits; he should be happy they were cooperating at all.
“Thank you, lieutenant.” He he pushed himself away from the slab with his hands, taking his glasses off to rub at his eyes. It was all too much. He took a deep breath and desperately wished for this to just be one big nightmare. But he knew, no matter how much he rubbed at his eyes and hoped, nothing was going to change.
And then it hit him like a brick wall: Babs.
No, he could live through this – the pain, the turmoil, the loss – but Babs shouldn't have to. No child should have to live through this ordeal. What was he going to tell her when her plane arrived tomorrow morning? How could he possibly break this to a fourteen-year-old girl? There was no easy way, no real smart way either; he would just have to do it. But there was one person he'd be able to go to for advice on this matter, on dealing with a child who had lost their parents.
Alfred.
“Do you need me for anything else?” Gordon asked as he slipped his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. The woman shook her head, her face showing that she felt for him, that she was sorry it had even happened. Gordon nodded. “I'll let Lieutenant Stephens know you'll be contacting him shortly.” And with that Gordon walked out of the office.
He stood out front of the building, leaning his back up against his car as he lit a cigarette and hit the speed dial for Gerard Stephens' phone. He didn't worry about waking the lieutenant; it was his night on duty. The phone rang a few times and then Stephens answered in a rather hurried tone.
“Aren't you suppose to be with your family tonight?” he asked.
“Supposed to be,” Gordon grumbled into the receiver. “Gerry, listen. I don't want to get into it right now. But you'll be getting a phone call from the Bludhaven PD soon, they have a case file I need you to go over. I need you to cooperate with them as much as possible. I need all the information on that case that I can get.”
“Uhm, okay. I can do that. But Jim, what's going on?” Stephens sounded extremely worried now but Gordon shookit off.
“You'll know when you get the files. Just get on it ASAP.” And with that he hung up the phone and finished his cigarette.
------
Gordon arrived back at Wayne Manor some forty-five minutes later and was standing on the doorstep waiting for Alfred to answer. He had taken his time on the way back, to let everything sink in, the realization that his one and only brother was dead, along with his sister-in-law and the dreams of a happy family for his niece. If anything made his heart ache more than it already did, it was the thought of Babs living in a foster home with a family that didn't really love her or care for her the way she would need.
Alfred finally opened the door, still dressed to in his suit even given the lateness of the hour. Perhaps he had suspected that Gordon would be back. “Master Jim,” he said plainly, with a nod ,and stood out of the way to allow Gordon to pass by him and into the hall.
“Hi, Alfred.” Gordon sighed and turned to face the butler. “Do you have a minute?”
Alfred smiled whimsically. “I have several, sir. How can I be of service?” He put a hand to Gordon's back, ushered him into the living room and gestured to the couch. Gordon took a seat, hand clasped together in front of him, leaning forward on his knees.
“I'm stuck, Alfred,” Gordon whispered. Alfred was giving Gordon the look he always gave him when he already knew more than he had been told. Alfred always seemed to know. “I'm not sure how to tell my niece that her parents are...” But Gordon found he couldn't even finish the sentence; the word seemed to stick on his tongue but wouldn't roll out. Luckily for him, Alfred was two steps ahead of him.
"If I may, sir?” Alfred started, leaning back into the arm of the couch, getting ready, Gordon knew, to tell one of his many stories. “Back in the days of my service to the British Army, I was stationed in Korea. A few of my local friends and I went out for a walk, but one of them managed to find his way into a mine field. My superiors gave me the task to go and tell his family. It was the hardest thing I had to do. The son looked at me with big eyes, asking me where his father was. And I could not lie. Because one day, he would find out the truth. I told him that his father was in heaven now, with God. Though I did not know if he was religious. He hugged me, and thanked me, for telling him the truth. So no matter what she does, she will thank you in the end, for not lying to her and for seeing her as an adult who can handle the truth."
Gordon stared at Alfred for a long time, lost in the story for a moment, bringing his own thoughts to the surface about how he would explain the situation to his niece. He just would, it was that simple. When the time presented itself, he would go with his instincts, with his training as an officer of the law, and do it. He'd done this so many times with families and colleagues in the past, why should this be any different? The only difference was that he would be there for the for the aftermath, tears and the turmoil. He could do that, though; he could be Babs' rock.
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