Perfect Timing 10/? FRM (violence and disturbing imagery)/FRAO for the whole thing
Sorry it's been so long since I've posted more. I really have no excuse other than sheer laziness. And. Here. We. Go. (oh come ON I had to do that)
"Drop your weapon! Drop your weapon now or we will shoot!" Jim kept his eyes fixed determinedly on the face of the man in front of him. "Do it now!" He watched the emotions flicker across the man's face, anger, sadness, confusion and then finally rage. Pure, murderous rage. The man lifted his arm and Jim didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger twice, part of him grimly satisfied when the man dropped to the ground, blood spilling down his chest. He heard the screams around him, watching as Stephens kicked the knife away and then kneeled down, checking the man's pulse.
"He's gone." Stephens shoved to his feet. "Good shooting."
Jim nodded a silent thanks and then went over to where the woman was bound to the chair. He was grateful that her eyes were covered with a thick layer of duct tape. There was no need for her to see that, not after everything else. He knelt next to her, careful to keep his voice calm and low. "I'm Sergeant Jim Gordon and I'm with Gotham PD. We're here to get you. I'm going to take the tape off your eyes and mouth now, I'm sorry, it's probably going to hurt. Are you ready?" She gave a jerky nod and Jim reached up. "Here we go." He pulled the tape away from her eyes first, locking his gaze on hers before pulling the tape off her mouth.
"Thank you, oh my God, thank you, thank you, thank you." She tried to lean into him but was stopped by the rope around her chest. "Is he dead? I heard shots, did you kill him, oh God, there's at least one other person here, I heard her screaming last night, oh God, get me out of here, please, please, please."
"We'll get you free in just a second, miss, try to breathe." Jim shoved to his feet, stepping aside to let someone start working to get the ropes free. "You said you heard someone else screaming?" She nodded again and Jim looked over at Stephens. "Okay. I'll go right, you go left." Stephens headed off, Jim a few steps behind. He wished he'd thought to bring a flashlight. The house was dark and grim, the windows boarded up with only a few lamps in the living room giving light. He started up the stairs, careful to stay close to the wall. As best they knew, that monster was working alone. Jim knew better than to make that assumption. The last thing he needed was someone suddenly appearing out of the shadows. He checked the room at the top of the stairs, trying not to gag when he saw the jars lining the walls. The only solace he could find was at least they'd be able to identify the victims. He checked the bathroom next, finding nothing other than some razors that he was sure would yield evidence. Not that there was going to be a trial now but it would still help to close the case. He finally reached the last door and he pushed it open carefully. He stood in the doorway, hand falling to his side. The blood was still dripping onto the floor from the slash across her throat. She couldn't have been dead more than twenty minutes, a half an hour at the most. He was still standing there when he heard Stephens call up the stairs. He was still standing there when he felt Stephens' hand clasp his shoulder.
"Jim. You did everything you could. You did." Stephens pulled his hand back and Jim immediately missed the warmth of the touch. "I saw the other bedroom. You should have shot him in the gut."
That startled a snort out of Jim. "You'd best keep that opinion to yourself."
"Like everyone won't think the same." Jim heard the sound of Stephens holstering his weapon. "Come on, you've got to call the Commissioner and tell him that you caught the bastard."
Jim groaned, reaching under his glasses to rub his eyes. "Fuck. I don't suppose I can get you to do it?"
"Nope. The perks of being any underling. Come on, the faster you do that, the faster we can get the fuck out of this piece of Hell." Stephens tugged on his arm and Jim let him guide him out. "That girl downstairs thinks you're an avenging angel. Gotta say, she makes a good case."
Jim let himself into his apartment, the hinge sounding even creakier than usual. He was going to have to fix that. At some point. Hell, maybe at some point in the week he had off now so that IA could go through the shooting with a fine tooth comb and find out exactly how he fucked it up. God forbid that anyone get the impression that he'd done the right thing by taking out that piece of shit. Oh no. No, those jackals were going to second guess him under the guise of a "routine inquiry, Jim, you know the procedure". Hell, there were already rumors starting that the second girl's family, Tabitha, that was it, her name was Tabitha, was going to sue because if only they'd gone in an hour earlier when the patrol first got to the house instead of waiting for backup she would still be alive. Jim shrugged out of his jacket, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. He took off his shoulder holster, putting his gun in the safe out of habit. He flopped down on the couch. It was too much effort to go all the way to the bedroom. He'd survive a night on the couch.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been there when the sound of the phone cut through the haze. He snagged his phone, trying to keep the exhaustion out of his voice "Gordon." He desperately hoped it wasn't MCU calling him to come back.
"Jim, hey, it's Thomas, I heard you got that bastard. How are you?" The open worry in Thomas' voice caused a lump to rise to Jim's throat.
"I'm. Exhausted. Do I even want to ask who told you?" Jim stretched out, draping an arm over his face.
"Jim, this is the lead story on everything, GNN, CNN, you name it, it's out there. From the Mayor's press conference, it sounds like you parted the seas and turned water into wine." Thomas paused. "I also heard that he came at you with a knife."
"Yeah. I didn't really want to add being stabbed to being shot." Jim flinched at how hostile he sounded. "Sorry. It's been a long night."
"I bet." There was another pause and Jim fought to stay awake. "I'm calling Gary. I don't want you talking to anyone else without him there."
"Jesus, you think it's going to be that bad that I need a lawyer?" That caused Jim to bolt up. "It was a clean shoot!"
"You don't have to convince me of that but, well, I've heard some things about Ramirez that I don't like. Let's just say that she's still furious with you for refusing to let her into MCU. Look, I'm being paranoid, I admit it, but humor me."
"Fine. Okay, fine." Jim sighed. "How long until the press decides it's more interesting to blame me for not saving them both?"
"They're not going to do that." Thomas' voice was firm. "From what everyone's said it was a miracle you figured it out."
"It wasn't just me. No, don't start, it wasn't. I may have had the break but it took everyone to get there." Jim sighed again. "I hate being made the hero."
"Then next time try not being the hero. Just a thought. You have to see the montage that GNN put together of your, what did they call it, inspiring life. I don't know how they did it but they got a shot of you playing with an orphan and a puppy at the same time." Now Thomas sounded gleeful and Jim entertained a brief fantasy of strangling him with a stethoscope. "It's fantastic, I'm going to order copies to play for your birthday. Christmas. Arbor Day."
"I hate you, I hope you know that." Jim couldn't suppress a chuckle though. "I was feeling really sorry for myself before you called. Bastard."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell you what, I'll make it up to you by sending Alfred over with that soup you love. Also, booze. And I'll tell Gary to hold off calling you until the morning okay? Hey, consider it insurance, if there's any attempt to fuck you over, he'll stop it in its tracks. Martha wants you to come over tomorrow since you're free. Be prepared, I think she's plotting something. Oh, hold on a sec." Thomas' voice grew muffled and Jim yawned. "Sorry, I've got to go. I can tell Martha you're coming over?"
"Do I have a choice?" The laugh he got in response answered that. "Go, I'll talk to you later." He hung up and then shoved to his feet, heading for the shower. He figured he had twenty minutes or so before Alfred go there and he would be damned if Alfred saw him when he was such a mess.
"Drop your weapon! Drop your weapon now or we will shoot!" Jim kept his eyes fixed determinedly on the face of the man in front of him. "Do it now!" He watched the emotions flicker across the man's face, anger, sadness, confusion and then finally rage. Pure, murderous rage. The man lifted his arm and Jim didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger twice, part of him grimly satisfied when the man dropped to the ground, blood spilling down his chest. He heard the screams around him, watching as Stephens kicked the knife away and then kneeled down, checking the man's pulse.
"He's gone." Stephens shoved to his feet. "Good shooting."
Jim nodded a silent thanks and then went over to where the woman was bound to the chair. He was grateful that her eyes were covered with a thick layer of duct tape. There was no need for her to see that, not after everything else. He knelt next to her, careful to keep his voice calm and low. "I'm Sergeant Jim Gordon and I'm with Gotham PD. We're here to get you. I'm going to take the tape off your eyes and mouth now, I'm sorry, it's probably going to hurt. Are you ready?" She gave a jerky nod and Jim reached up. "Here we go." He pulled the tape away from her eyes first, locking his gaze on hers before pulling the tape off her mouth.
"Thank you, oh my God, thank you, thank you, thank you." She tried to lean into him but was stopped by the rope around her chest. "Is he dead? I heard shots, did you kill him, oh God, there's at least one other person here, I heard her screaming last night, oh God, get me out of here, please, please, please."
"We'll get you free in just a second, miss, try to breathe." Jim shoved to his feet, stepping aside to let someone start working to get the ropes free. "You said you heard someone else screaming?" She nodded again and Jim looked over at Stephens. "Okay. I'll go right, you go left." Stephens headed off, Jim a few steps behind. He wished he'd thought to bring a flashlight. The house was dark and grim, the windows boarded up with only a few lamps in the living room giving light. He started up the stairs, careful to stay close to the wall. As best they knew, that monster was working alone. Jim knew better than to make that assumption. The last thing he needed was someone suddenly appearing out of the shadows. He checked the room at the top of the stairs, trying not to gag when he saw the jars lining the walls. The only solace he could find was at least they'd be able to identify the victims. He checked the bathroom next, finding nothing other than some razors that he was sure would yield evidence. Not that there was going to be a trial now but it would still help to close the case. He finally reached the last door and he pushed it open carefully. He stood in the doorway, hand falling to his side. The blood was still dripping onto the floor from the slash across her throat. She couldn't have been dead more than twenty minutes, a half an hour at the most. He was still standing there when he heard Stephens call up the stairs. He was still standing there when he felt Stephens' hand clasp his shoulder.
"Jim. You did everything you could. You did." Stephens pulled his hand back and Jim immediately missed the warmth of the touch. "I saw the other bedroom. You should have shot him in the gut."
That startled a snort out of Jim. "You'd best keep that opinion to yourself."
"Like everyone won't think the same." Jim heard the sound of Stephens holstering his weapon. "Come on, you've got to call the Commissioner and tell him that you caught the bastard."
Jim groaned, reaching under his glasses to rub his eyes. "Fuck. I don't suppose I can get you to do it?"
"Nope. The perks of being any underling. Come on, the faster you do that, the faster we can get the fuck out of this piece of Hell." Stephens tugged on his arm and Jim let him guide him out. "That girl downstairs thinks you're an avenging angel. Gotta say, she makes a good case."
Jim let himself into his apartment, the hinge sounding even creakier than usual. He was going to have to fix that. At some point. Hell, maybe at some point in the week he had off now so that IA could go through the shooting with a fine tooth comb and find out exactly how he fucked it up. God forbid that anyone get the impression that he'd done the right thing by taking out that piece of shit. Oh no. No, those jackals were going to second guess him under the guise of a "routine inquiry, Jim, you know the procedure". Hell, there were already rumors starting that the second girl's family, Tabitha, that was it, her name was Tabitha, was going to sue because if only they'd gone in an hour earlier when the patrol first got to the house instead of waiting for backup she would still be alive. Jim shrugged out of his jacket, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. He took off his shoulder holster, putting his gun in the safe out of habit. He flopped down on the couch. It was too much effort to go all the way to the bedroom. He'd survive a night on the couch.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been there when the sound of the phone cut through the haze. He snagged his phone, trying to keep the exhaustion out of his voice "Gordon." He desperately hoped it wasn't MCU calling him to come back.
"Jim, hey, it's Thomas, I heard you got that bastard. How are you?" The open worry in Thomas' voice caused a lump to rise to Jim's throat.
"I'm. Exhausted. Do I even want to ask who told you?" Jim stretched out, draping an arm over his face.
"Jim, this is the lead story on everything, GNN, CNN, you name it, it's out there. From the Mayor's press conference, it sounds like you parted the seas and turned water into wine." Thomas paused. "I also heard that he came at you with a knife."
"Yeah. I didn't really want to add being stabbed to being shot." Jim flinched at how hostile he sounded. "Sorry. It's been a long night."
"I bet." There was another pause and Jim fought to stay awake. "I'm calling Gary. I don't want you talking to anyone else without him there."
"Jesus, you think it's going to be that bad that I need a lawyer?" That caused Jim to bolt up. "It was a clean shoot!"
"You don't have to convince me of that but, well, I've heard some things about Ramirez that I don't like. Let's just say that she's still furious with you for refusing to let her into MCU. Look, I'm being paranoid, I admit it, but humor me."
"Fine. Okay, fine." Jim sighed. "How long until the press decides it's more interesting to blame me for not saving them both?"
"They're not going to do that." Thomas' voice was firm. "From what everyone's said it was a miracle you figured it out."
"It wasn't just me. No, don't start, it wasn't. I may have had the break but it took everyone to get there." Jim sighed again. "I hate being made the hero."
"Then next time try not being the hero. Just a thought. You have to see the montage that GNN put together of your, what did they call it, inspiring life. I don't know how they did it but they got a shot of you playing with an orphan and a puppy at the same time." Now Thomas sounded gleeful and Jim entertained a brief fantasy of strangling him with a stethoscope. "It's fantastic, I'm going to order copies to play for your birthday. Christmas. Arbor Day."
"I hate you, I hope you know that." Jim couldn't suppress a chuckle though. "I was feeling really sorry for myself before you called. Bastard."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell you what, I'll make it up to you by sending Alfred over with that soup you love. Also, booze. And I'll tell Gary to hold off calling you until the morning okay? Hey, consider it insurance, if there's any attempt to fuck you over, he'll stop it in its tracks. Martha wants you to come over tomorrow since you're free. Be prepared, I think she's plotting something. Oh, hold on a sec." Thomas' voice grew muffled and Jim yawned. "Sorry, I've got to go. I can tell Martha you're coming over?"
"Do I have a choice?" The laugh he got in response answered that. "Go, I'll talk to you later." He hung up and then shoved to his feet, heading for the shower. He figured he had twenty minutes or so before Alfred go there and he would be damned if Alfred saw him when he was such a mess.